Lost Boy, Stolen Memories

Chapter 16

Pan's POV

Colt comes back to me in the morning. Technically, there are no mornings considering that there is no time, but we have aligned our sleep cycles so that we can sort of keep track of the "time". I'm sure glad that I made this whole deal at night, if Neverland were all bright and sunshiney, then it would lose some of its charm.

"I'm now almost positive that Erin possesses the heart of the truest believer," Colt says, a wide grin on his features. His happiness and excitement is nearing repulsive.

I raise an eyebrow questioningly, "If you're so sure, then do tell what went down last night."

"Okay, so," he begins to weave his tale, "I told her about Wendy, not in depth though. I told her that you killed her because you got bored with her. I told Erin that if she learned how to bend Neverland's magic to her will, then you would be intrigued with her and be less inclined to kill her."

"That's partially true, I suppose," I say.

He continues, "So then I told her to imagine whatever she wanted and if it became reality, then she successfully used magic. First she wished for clothes, flannel pajamas to be exact, and it worked instantly. Then she wished for grilled cheese and it was there."

I roll my eyes, "Let me guess, next she wished for a pegasus with rainbow hair."

"Wait, I'm not done," Colt says, irritated by my sarcastic remark, "her third wish was unsuccessful. She tried to imagine herself out of the cage you put her in, but it didn't work. It's like she hit a roadblock. You see, this is perfect, she can conjure up whatever she wants, as long as it doesn't interfere with your power."

I let this sink in, it does sound perfect. Maybe a little too easy though. I have to go to Erin and judge for myself whether she has the heart of the truest believer. And I know just how to do it.

"I appreciate your efforts, Colt, but I have one more test to conduct to make sure that Erin is the one we are looking for," I say. Then I disappear before he can stop me.

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Erin's POV

When I wake up, it is still dark as night outside, but I feel completely rested. Maybe it has to do with the Neverland immortality crap. I don't think about it anymore, because even though I'm physically rested, I'm still mentally exhausted.This whole mess is not very beneficial to my mental health.

"Well, well, look who's awake," Peter's voice sounds from behind me.

I turn around, which is no easy feat in this rather small cage, to see him hovering outside the locked door of the cage. I squeeze my eyes shut and picture him falling from the sky, even though I know it isn't worth the effort. Again I'm met with that searing pain through my head, and its worse than before.

"Picture me dying all you want, love," Peter teases, "but it won't do you any good."

I have regained enough strength to at least give him my death glare, which has become an often occurrence in the past 12 or so hours, "What do you want, Peter?"

"Just want to talk, is that such a crime?" he cocks his head at an angle, feigning innocence.

I find strength in me to snarl, "It is when you kidnapped me from my own home, threw me on a magic pirate ship, took me to another world, let your army of lustful boys abuse me, and lock me in a cage all night!"

"Wow, I didn't think you had fire like that, I like it," he smirks, "Wendy had that too."

"W-wendy?" I ask in disbelief, "As in Wendy Darling? She's the girl you killed?"

He laughs maliciously, "Oh yes, it turned out she didn't have such a happy ending after all. Is that what you and Colt discussed last night?"

"How did you know Colt talked to me last night," I question.

Again, that laugh, "You really think I wouldn't know about that? Please, between my shadow and I, I know everything that happens in Neverland. In fact, I may have to punish Colt for disclosing such information to you, perhaps death would suffice."

I think about the possibility of Peter murdering Colt, the only boy who is willing to help me. He is the only hope I can hold onto right now, besides the one that Peter will come to his senses and realize that he was capable of loving me. I can't let Colt die because he helped me.

"No, you can't punish him for having just a little bit of sympathy towards me," I say adamantly.

Peter replies, "Actually, I can. There is nothing physically stopping me, and you certainly can't change my mind. But, out of the kindness of my heart, I'll spare him."

"There is kindness in your heart, I'm sure of it, however miniscule that amount may be," I say, more to myself than to Peter.

At this I see a small flicker of something in his eyes, proving that I'm right. But he vanishes into thin air right afterward.

I sigh in relief, the only person I want to talk to right now is Colt.

"Erin!" just the person I was looking for, but something isn't right. There is fear in his voice, like he's warning me about something.

I call out to him, "Col-" but I can't finish, because there is a dagger embedded in the left side of my chest. Peter's dagger.

Through the red flashes of pain emanating through my body, I can hear Colt screaming my name over and over, and Peter's demonic laughter. I know I'm going to die, I'm surprised I can still sense things at all.

I am fading fast, Peter and Colt begin to sound more distant and black spots swim across my vision. Instead of thinking about my parents and how they will feel when they realize I'm never coming back, my thoughts turn to the old Peter. Most people have their entire lives flash before them as they lay dying, but I only relive that short week I spent with him.

I think numbly that Peter must be projecting these images into my head somehow. But the person he is now hates the person he was with no memories, so he would never do this. I realize that it's just me reliving these moments, because that week I shared with Peter was the best I'd ever had.

In the daze of pain and suffering, I manage to croak out what will most likely be my last words, "I love you, Peter Pan."

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Pan's POV

After Erin says those five words, I remove the dagger from her chest. That is all the proof I need that she has the heart of the truest believer. She loves me even though I "killed" her. I wipe my dagger clean and heal the gaping wound in her chest.