VICIOUS (II) : peter pan ouat

How to Jump

If I said one word about his foster parents I'd be dead.

"Yeah sure." He spits, opening his mouth t speak.

"What do you want Johnny?" The question screeches out, so that he doesn't have time to get his two cents in.

His shoulders slowly stop heaving, and he glares at me. "I need your help."

I hold back my excitement. He's mad, and by the sigh in his tone, I can tell I'm his last hope. Listening is not my strong suit, but I'll do it. Not because I like Johnny, or at least will even put up with his company, but because I want to see him beg.

"Like I said, what do you want?" I roll my eyes.

He turns his back to me, scratching his head before daring to glance back. "The Natives are threatening me."

I snort, looking at the trees above me before back at him. "Of course they are. You killed that boy and they found out right?"

"You ratted me out." He spits.

"As if I care enough about you to talk about you when you aren't here." I laugh. "You're not the center of my world Jonathan."

Honestly, he's so full of it. I'm not claiming I'm a Saint. I've murdered at least two people, maybe three honestly. It's hard to keep track. That doesn't mean I like Johnny.

Still, he hasn't ratted me out for killing Samuel or anybody else. So, I return the favour. Don't throw stones when you live in a glass house.

"Well, regardless, they aren't going to kidnap you." He says.

"They already have, you asshat." I spit. "We aren't on good terms."

He rolls his eyes. "But Pan came and rescued you, right? They aren't going to mess with him or his property."

Property? "Oh Jonathan I swear to God-"

"Which is ridiculous because you hate me for so much as looking at Thomas-"

"You don't get to say his name after you-"

"But still insist that Pan is a good person. Please, you're less than his puppet. You're his little play thing-"

"You are out of line." I shove him forward, attempting to push him back into a tree.

"You know what Alison would say to this?" He asks. "She'd wonder you're finally obsessed with boys after all these years. Especially one that's rotting from the inside out."

"I think if Alison came here she'd be a bit preoccupied with mourning the boy she once knew," I seethe, "because Johnny is gone, and the person in front of me reeks of blood and cowardice."

He rolls his eyes, looking away. His eyes dancing up in the tree tops before falling down to me. "You're pathetic."

"So are you."

"I never said I wasn't."

"Neither did I."

He purses his lips together, before scowling. "Whatever. If I die, it's on your hands."

His back turned to me, he moves deeper into the woods. Sulking like the giant baby he is. Is it just me, or his behaviour getting ridiculously old ridiculously fast?

"Oh don't get my hopes up." I tell him. "You know, at least it puts a lot of pressure off of me plotting your murder. I wouldn't want your death to be on any other hands than mine."

I turn my back to him too, muttering to myself under my breath. Who does he think he is, belittling me killing people? Has he looked in the mirror? And Peter on top of that, who does he think he is?