You started the next phase of your plan soon after. Albeit, it was harder than originally thought. You had assumed you'd still be allowed out of the den with supervision. Instead, you were only allowed out for dinner and nothing else. Still, you were setting your plan in motion of befriending all the others. Extra stories were read before bed, caring for them, making sure they were okay. They started coming to you for help with cuts, scrapes and bruises.
"We couldn't go to Peter anyways. He usually just tells us that we'll be fine and then flies off. Tink yells at him over it sometimes." Hawk confided in you one day.
Spending time with them was rather difficult when confined inside seeing as they were out all day, but you managed. Sometimes one of them would stay with you after faking a cold or begging Peter. Mostly it was Owen, Hawk and Swan who accompanied you. They would keep you entertained and help come up with stories to tell the others later on.
You and Peter still shared a bed, he insisted on it. After all, the only empty bed was Goose's old one and you didn't feel comfortable taking it knowing where the previous owner was now. Even that bed hadn't remained empty for long. A few days after your return Peter had once again left to try and find a replacement and this time he'd returned with another boy.
His name was Colin or Crow as he'd been nicknamed. He was barely 8 with black hair and hazel eyes. Peter had found him in the rubble of a destroyed house, sick and soaked from heavy rain. He was still fevered and sick when he'd been brought in, nearly collapsing after being introduced. It'd been you who'd nursed him back to help the best you could but he was still too weak to do much.
It was a normal day of you caring for him when he'd suddenly grabbed your arm making you jump.
"He's done something hasn't he? Peter, I mean." His voice was small and quiet which seemed to make his voice more eerie. You nodded, not wanting to give verbal confirmation in case Peter was listening. He'd drop by sometimes and had a habit of sneaking up on you.
"Tell me how I can help you." It wasn't a request but a demand, still you felt yourself wavering between telling him and not telling him. But in the end a helping hand, especially one that could go outside, wouldn't hurt. Right?