'How do you feel?' Greg asked, voice so quiet Mycroft had to strain to hear him. It was still at that low pitch that made him want to just do whatever Greg were to ask of him.

'A little tired, and my chest hurts.' He admitted. He saw no point in lying to Greg, especially if it was just them alone. Greg made a soft understanding sound, hand drifting up to press lightly over the bandages concealing the cut, the other wrapping around his waist securely. There was a slight shift, as the Lost Boy slotted Mycroft better against him, bringing up his legs like a three-sided cage when combined with his chest, four counting the arm, except Mycroft found he had no intentions of escaping any time soon.

'I'm sorry they did that, you know.' Greg's thumb softly brushed over the line of the cut. 'It wasn't my intention at all. The twins… They sometimes don't quite know what they're saying. But they're both brilliant, really.'

Mycroft nodded, knowing he was close enough to not need to do anything else. He had no idea what this bed was made of, but it was incredibly comfortable, and Greg's chest was warm, solid, secure.

'You should sleep, Mycroft. You need your energy here in Neverland.' The smile was evident in his voice.

'Where am I sleeping?' He wasn't sure about sleeping in the main room with the Lost Boys, since they'd already outted him as 'grown up', which was the most offensive thing you could say in Neverland. 'I don't want to be in the way.'

'Well I'd suggest you sleep with the others, but…' Mycroft opened his eyes slowly, the pause giving him the faintest hope. But what was he hoping for? He wasn't entirely convinced what exactly, but it sounded promising. 'But I'm not completely sure it'll be the best idea. You need rest, and they take a while to settle down sometimes. Perhaps you're better off in here… with me.' It sounded like a flimsy reason, Mycroft thought, but he wasn't one to argue.

'I suppose that's acceptable.' Mycroft grinned openly. Greg laughed, really properly laughed, and Mycroft could feel his chest moving against his back. Maybe they'd sleep like this, laying down? Or was that too much to hope for? Mycroft had long since accepted that women didn't interest him, but falling for a Lost Boy? Surely that was very far from what he'd expected. He'd been thinking he'd fall for a lawyer, a banker, maybe a well known Shakespearian actor if he was feeling ambitious, or a politician, since that's what he was going to be.

Well, he wasn't any more, was he? He was a Lost Boy. He didn't need to worry about being an adult, that's what Neverland was all about.

'Stop that.' Greg murmured, continuing when the silence stated Mycroft wanted him to continue. 'Stop thinking like a grown up, with all those thoughts about things that don't concern children and kids.'

'How can you tell?'

'When you're thinking about things that upset you your shoulders tense up and you frown really seriously. Just here.' His left hand raised from the bandage to the skin between Mycroft's eyes, resting over the crease in the skin caused by frowning.

'I… I hadn't even noticed that before. I do sometimes get headaches.'

'Well if you didn't worry so much, you probably wouldn't.' Greg replied easily. 'Now, I need to tell the Lost Boys they can come back but they aren't to disturb you. We'll probably play something this evening, if you care to join us, but rest first.' He scrambled off the bed, but not before Mycroft was 75% sure soft lips grazed the back of his neck. Greg stayed in the room, pulling back the heavy thick leaves that were coated in a sort of natural material that strongly resembled soft quilting. Smiling thankfully, Mycroft slipped off his shoes and crawled under the covers, finding himself surrounded by Greg's scent. It was heady, a constant presence that he desperately didn't want to replace with his own. Within moments of laying down, Mycroft fell asleep, smiling.

Greg walked calmly up to the entrance of their hideout, thinking about this sudden turn of events. He hadn't expected to feel like this about somebody, especially not the uptight suited almost-man that he'd rescued from the evil clutches of adulthood. He'd heard his father talking a few days ago, knew it wouldn't be long until he was swept off somewhere that wasn't the old Darling household, and he feared that when he returned, Greg would be too late.

It was close enough as it was. He almost didn't make it, what with the difficult time scale between Neverland and the other world. Peter had complained of the same problem, going to visit Wendy and suddenly finding that she was an adult, with two children. He didn't want that to happen with Mycroft. What if he'd been too late, and Mycroft was grown up, and didn't want Greg to take him to Neverland any more? Anything could have happened.

But it hadn't, he'd been in time, and now Mycroft was hurt because his own Lost Boys were complete idiots. Like Jim would be able to make one of his men fly? And so openly. It was absurd. They hadn't been thinking.

Once he was outside, he flew up above the trees, grinning to himself before spreading himself in the sky, crowing like Peter had taught him so long ago. It was a tradition he was completely willing to uphold. He heard it reflect from the trees, sounding almost exactly like when Peter did it and all the Lost Boys would come running. He stayed spread eagled in the sky for a moment before coming back to the ground, crossing his legs as he touched the ground to end up cross legged on the floor, waiting.

It didn't take long before everyone was before him, all looking suitably guilty. He located Sherlock, with Zak, the two of them cutting off what seemed to be a conversation about pirates so that they could listen to Greg.

'Alright, you lot. You know what happened today, even if you weren't responsible for it, or even there. I just need to tell you all, if that happens again, I'm sending whoever is to blame to the Reichenbach.' There was a shocked silence; they all knew he wasn't joking in the slightest.

'And while we're all here, I'll have no more of this talk about Mycroft being grown up. There's no way we can convince him he isn't yet, which he clearly isn't if he got here, if you're all telling him he is.' He looked at each of them, noting with grim satisfaction that the twins were looking down at the floor guiltily. Sherlock was staring up at him with complete attention. It was rather sweet really, he decided.

'I brought Mycroft here, with his brother, so that we could teach him that he doesn't have to grow up, not yet, not ever. He has enough hanging over him without Lost Boys telling him he's too old to be here, before long he'd start to believe it, and then the cause is lost. And I'm not going to let that happen. Do I make myself clear?' They all nodded in unison. 'Good. He's sleeping right now, and this evening when we play whatever game we decide on, he may come join us.' The implication was clear, they were all to be on their best behaviour. 'Mycroft is one of us now, it's our job to help him to realise that himself.'

They all nodded, and Greg sighed, nodding. 'Any sign of Jim's crew joining us on land?'

'None.' Alex supplied. The others agreed mutely, evidently still feeling a bit bad for not welcoming one of their newest members.

'Alright then. You're all free to go on as you please.' Greg nodded to them, running a hand through his hair. Everyone turned, going back to whatever they'd been doing, except Sherlock, who walked over to him, still holding John by the paw. 'Hello Sherlock.' He smiled.

'Hey.' Sherlock bit his lip, as if unsure how to ask something. 'Can… Tonight, can we play Pirates?' He looked up at Greg through his hair, grinning hesitantly. Greg made a show of frowning, thinking it over, umming and ahhing.

'Oh, I don't know. I'm not sure I'm in a Pirate mood… I'm not sure I'd make a good enough Captain.' He didn't miss how Sherlock's eyes lit up at the implied suggestion. 'Wait… Don't reckon you could, do you? Be Captain, I mean. You'll have to keep the crew in line. It's not an easy job, Sherlock.'

Sherlock nodded seriously, eyes still shining happily. 'I'll do my very best.' He told Greg solemnly. 'I'll stop them all being bad Pirates. If they are I'll make them walk the plank!' He pointed, as it the plank in question was some way off in the distance.

'I've no doubt you will.' Greg smiled. 'I look forward to serving you, Captain.' He saluted, and Sherlock grinned, running off after the twins as if he already belonged.