Title: Island
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan. I do not own Hook.
Notes: Michelle, Michelle! Bow down to Michelle for Rufio inspiration. There is some Spanish in this chapter. Rufio comes from the Philippines, where they speak both Spanish and Tagalog, and the Spanish used in this chapter translates to 'You hate, you hate,' and 'I hate, I hate.' Oh, and yes, this is angsty. Yay.
Chapter Nine: Parents
Peter Pan was not the only sleepless boy in Neverland. That night Rufio walked the island in pensive circles. The moon was rolling over the crest of the sky when he came back to the Nevertree. The air was thick with sleep, but that did not stop Rufio from noticing the light.
He stood in the doorway, his eyes adjusting. It was not Tinker Bell. Her light was in its usual place, escaping from the cracks in the paneling of her apartments. In fact, since Wendy's arrival, the fairy had yet to emerge from her little house, though one could occasionally hear a long-suffering chime from within.
No, the light came from the far end of the room, near Pan's bed. Rufio thought about this, and almost considered abandoning the matter then and there. But he was already creeping closer, curiosity besting him twice in one day. He could not help but wonder what Pan had ensnared that sparkled so.
It was when he was some two feet removed that Rufio realized that it was not Pan, but Pan's Wendy. The girl was alone in the boy's bed, the light near enough to her to lay soft shadows on her pretty face. Rufio knelt beside the bed.
The glow hung from a chain around her neck. Its center was dark, and when Rufio leaned in, he recognized a locket. The chain also held a wounded acorn, but Rufio had not heard that story, so he merely wondered at its sentiment before focusing again on the locket. It was clasped to the chain by a little loop of metal that could be pulled apart. Rufio did this with scrupulous fingers, and soon the locket and its light were in his palms. Wendy stirred, and Rufio froze, but the girl did not wake.
It took him a moment to find the clasp, and a moment more to undo it. When he opened it the light sprang out, and his eyes followed it. It was a star, he noticed, with a wondering face. It was suspended before him for all of a breath, and soon fell from the air and fled across the floor. Rufio closed his fist around the locket, groping for the star with his free hand. When it eluded his fingers a third and fourth time, Rufio knew who must have caught it for her. With a grumbling head, he abandoned the chase, and the star peeked guiltily out at him from beneath the bed.
He had opened the locket again, and was looking down with a stolid face, his eyes lightless pits of black. Two gray faces materialized in his palms, and in the feeble light he saw a woman with Wendy's mouth and a man with her eyes. He knew at that moment that these were parents, Wendy's parents. A recollection of some withering thing blossomed in him, and he threw up his arms against the faces and the light. The locket fell and he pushed himself away.
Rufio's staring eyes did not see that Wendy had sat up, and was looking at him now through the gloom. There was an aging question in her eyes, but it was with a silent mouth that she slipped from the bed, bypassing both locket and star and kneeling at some distance from Rufio.
The boy was without the Nevertree, and without Neverland. He saw nothing, and heard only the howling, crushing cadence of a boiling sea. 'Tu odias, to odias,' the waves said sweetly. 'Yo odio, yo odio,' Rufio agreed in a whisper, and began to drown without protest.
He flinched. He was in the Nevertree again, his arms wrapped around his knees. Wendy was before him with frightened eyes. Her hand was barely present on his arm, but it was enough to drag him back. Rufio gave her his lightless gaze and said in a hollow voice, 'Parents.'
'Oh.' said Wendy. Her hand and expression fell at the same time, and her eyes saw eggshells.
Rufio's head fell into his hands. His stoicism was gone, and feeling bled into the furrows now etched in his brow. It was in his voice when he spoke halting words from a tattered throat. "I shouldn't be here," he said. His fingers were rigid against his skull. "It's a mistake."
Wendy was fighting a losing battle with propriety. Her eyes could not comfort a boy who would see nothing. In the end manners lost, shoved aside by mother. Wendy reached forward and took his hands capably. Rufio looked up.
'I doubt that,' she said gently.
'I'm not supposed to be here,' he said, firmly. Her hands were warm.
'How do you know?' She was so very disarming, in her Wendy way. Rufio paused. He looked past her, and his eyes were ghostly.
'I'm supposed to be dead.' Wendy's grip tightened involuntarily. Rufio did not notice. 'I'm supposed to be with my father. He's waiting and I want to go, but this place won't let me.'
'If you are supposed to be dead, then why aren't you?'
Rufio blinked. Wendy was looking at him with soft, sad eyes. But her frank mouth startled him, and there was a hovering silence before he answered.
'Fairies,' he said, slowly. His voice was strange, and he hesitated. 'They pulled me from the water. Brought me here.'
'Then surely, you were not meant to die.'
Rufio frowned and pulled his hands away. 'I have nothing to give. I have nothing. I have his feathers and his shells and Neverland keeps me away.' He closed his eyes against a wave of something, and finished in a whisper. 'Yo odio. I hate.'
Wendy watched as a single tear escaped him, pale and wet against his brown skin. It fell quickly, and Wendy knew that this boy had not cried in a very long time. She whispered too, and her voice seemed damp. 'You hate so much.' The words faded into a heavy silence, and for a long time all Wendy could was watch him as second and third tears joined the first.
At long last she moved closer. Precariously, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and simply held him.
It did not matter whose arms, this was an embrace for a boy long starved of them, and Rufio willingly collapsed into it. He cried easily for a long time, and Wendy rocked him slowly. Sometimes she murmured tuneless lullabies, but most often she was silent.
The quiet pressed them, and she wondered if he had stopped crying, for Rufio was a dignified boy, and his tears were very soft. Her hands were in his hair tracing slow patterns. His hair was a thing of great pride to Rufio, and had he not been thrown open as he was, he would have made her stop. When he couldn't cry anymore, he spoke.
'There's nothing for me here. I can't give anything. I can't,' he swallowed.
'Shhh,' cooed Wendy.
'There's nothing for me here.'
'It's all right.' And then.
'Wendy?' He was looking up at her with newborn eyes. Wendy felt her whole self lift.
'Yes?'
'I'm,' he tried. 'Sometimes I'm so afraid.' A beat. 'Is that okay?'
Wendy smiled, and it was like light. 'Yes, yes! It is more than okay, it is wonderful!' And then, like mother, 'It is human, Rufio.'
His smile came carefully, but when it did it was just that: human. He heaved a great, long-caged sigh, and felt as if he had shrugged off a few layers of clothing. 'I'm so daunted sometimes,' he said, drawing away from her cautiously. He seemed afraid the air outside her arms would asphyxiate him. It didn't, and he finished his thought. 'By everything.'
Wendy was cold. Her arms had nothing to hold, and so she wrapped them around herself. Mother bid goodnight, and Wendy was alone again with a kissless mouth. 'I am too, sometimes. But nothing can hurt you here, unless you want it to.' Her voice was naked and hushed. 'Sometimes I'm terrified.' Rufio looked at her, puzzled.
'But you have the option of going back,' he said, nearly bitter.
'I'm afraid of that, too,' she said in a very small voice. Her eyes were on the locket, or perhaps the twinkling light that rested very near to it. Rufio could not tell, but his eyes were clearing. He made an educated guess.
'Neverland makes you forget,' he said, eyes fixed on the light. 'You can't let that happen,' but now he was looking at her while she looked away. 'Even if Pan promises the stars.'
Wendy looked up, and her eyes were very wide.
'You have the option of going back,' Rufio said, evenly.
But Wendy's gaze fell again, and she was scooping the star and the locket into her hands. She looked with mussed eyes, first to one, then the other. Wendy sighed, slipping the star into the trinket and shutting it. 'I can't,' she said.
Rufio resigned. 'Strength'll come,' he said. Wendy had strung the chain back through the locket. There it was, beside the acorn, beside her heart. She reached out and caught Rufio's hand.
'For you, too,' she said.
He looked down at their hands with a blank face. 'Maybe some day.'
She let him go, and he looked up in time to see empathetic eyes. They were sad eyes, too, and he turned away from them. His steps ached as he returned to the night, and his arms ached as he pulled himself into the branches of the Nevertree, and his self ached as he watched the forest. He would not be surprised if bruises decorated him by morning, for hurt showed very plainly in Neverland.
Below Rufio, in the Nevertree, Wendy's fingers curled around the locket. She did not sleep for a very long time.
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan. I do not own Hook.
Notes: Michelle, Michelle! Bow down to Michelle for Rufio inspiration. There is some Spanish in this chapter. Rufio comes from the Philippines, where they speak both Spanish and Tagalog, and the Spanish used in this chapter translates to 'You hate, you hate,' and 'I hate, I hate.' Oh, and yes, this is angsty. Yay.
Chapter Nine: Parents
Peter Pan was not the only sleepless boy in Neverland. That night Rufio walked the island in pensive circles. The moon was rolling over the crest of the sky when he came back to the Nevertree. The air was thick with sleep, but that did not stop Rufio from noticing the light.
He stood in the doorway, his eyes adjusting. It was not Tinker Bell. Her light was in its usual place, escaping from the cracks in the paneling of her apartments. In fact, since Wendy's arrival, the fairy had yet to emerge from her little house, though one could occasionally hear a long-suffering chime from within.
No, the light came from the far end of the room, near Pan's bed. Rufio thought about this, and almost considered abandoning the matter then and there. But he was already creeping closer, curiosity besting him twice in one day. He could not help but wonder what Pan had ensnared that sparkled so.
It was when he was some two feet removed that Rufio realized that it was not Pan, but Pan's Wendy. The girl was alone in the boy's bed, the light near enough to her to lay soft shadows on her pretty face. Rufio knelt beside the bed.
The glow hung from a chain around her neck. Its center was dark, and when Rufio leaned in, he recognized a locket. The chain also held a wounded acorn, but Rufio had not heard that story, so he merely wondered at its sentiment before focusing again on the locket. It was clasped to the chain by a little loop of metal that could be pulled apart. Rufio did this with scrupulous fingers, and soon the locket and its light were in his palms. Wendy stirred, and Rufio froze, but the girl did not wake.
It took him a moment to find the clasp, and a moment more to undo it. When he opened it the light sprang out, and his eyes followed it. It was a star, he noticed, with a wondering face. It was suspended before him for all of a breath, and soon fell from the air and fled across the floor. Rufio closed his fist around the locket, groping for the star with his free hand. When it eluded his fingers a third and fourth time, Rufio knew who must have caught it for her. With a grumbling head, he abandoned the chase, and the star peeked guiltily out at him from beneath the bed.
He had opened the locket again, and was looking down with a stolid face, his eyes lightless pits of black. Two gray faces materialized in his palms, and in the feeble light he saw a woman with Wendy's mouth and a man with her eyes. He knew at that moment that these were parents, Wendy's parents. A recollection of some withering thing blossomed in him, and he threw up his arms against the faces and the light. The locket fell and he pushed himself away.
Rufio's staring eyes did not see that Wendy had sat up, and was looking at him now through the gloom. There was an aging question in her eyes, but it was with a silent mouth that she slipped from the bed, bypassing both locket and star and kneeling at some distance from Rufio.
The boy was without the Nevertree, and without Neverland. He saw nothing, and heard only the howling, crushing cadence of a boiling sea. 'Tu odias, to odias,' the waves said sweetly. 'Yo odio, yo odio,' Rufio agreed in a whisper, and began to drown without protest.
He flinched. He was in the Nevertree again, his arms wrapped around his knees. Wendy was before him with frightened eyes. Her hand was barely present on his arm, but it was enough to drag him back. Rufio gave her his lightless gaze and said in a hollow voice, 'Parents.'
'Oh.' said Wendy. Her hand and expression fell at the same time, and her eyes saw eggshells.
Rufio's head fell into his hands. His stoicism was gone, and feeling bled into the furrows now etched in his brow. It was in his voice when he spoke halting words from a tattered throat. "I shouldn't be here," he said. His fingers were rigid against his skull. "It's a mistake."
Wendy was fighting a losing battle with propriety. Her eyes could not comfort a boy who would see nothing. In the end manners lost, shoved aside by mother. Wendy reached forward and took his hands capably. Rufio looked up.
'I doubt that,' she said gently.
'I'm not supposed to be here,' he said, firmly. Her hands were warm.
'How do you know?' She was so very disarming, in her Wendy way. Rufio paused. He looked past her, and his eyes were ghostly.
'I'm supposed to be dead.' Wendy's grip tightened involuntarily. Rufio did not notice. 'I'm supposed to be with my father. He's waiting and I want to go, but this place won't let me.'
'If you are supposed to be dead, then why aren't you?'
Rufio blinked. Wendy was looking at him with soft, sad eyes. But her frank mouth startled him, and there was a hovering silence before he answered.
'Fairies,' he said, slowly. His voice was strange, and he hesitated. 'They pulled me from the water. Brought me here.'
'Then surely, you were not meant to die.'
Rufio frowned and pulled his hands away. 'I have nothing to give. I have nothing. I have his feathers and his shells and Neverland keeps me away.' He closed his eyes against a wave of something, and finished in a whisper. 'Yo odio. I hate.'
Wendy watched as a single tear escaped him, pale and wet against his brown skin. It fell quickly, and Wendy knew that this boy had not cried in a very long time. She whispered too, and her voice seemed damp. 'You hate so much.' The words faded into a heavy silence, and for a long time all Wendy could was watch him as second and third tears joined the first.
At long last she moved closer. Precariously, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and simply held him.
It did not matter whose arms, this was an embrace for a boy long starved of them, and Rufio willingly collapsed into it. He cried easily for a long time, and Wendy rocked him slowly. Sometimes she murmured tuneless lullabies, but most often she was silent.
The quiet pressed them, and she wondered if he had stopped crying, for Rufio was a dignified boy, and his tears were very soft. Her hands were in his hair tracing slow patterns. His hair was a thing of great pride to Rufio, and had he not been thrown open as he was, he would have made her stop. When he couldn't cry anymore, he spoke.
'There's nothing for me here. I can't give anything. I can't,' he swallowed.
'Shhh,' cooed Wendy.
'There's nothing for me here.'
'It's all right.' And then.
'Wendy?' He was looking up at her with newborn eyes. Wendy felt her whole self lift.
'Yes?'
'I'm,' he tried. 'Sometimes I'm so afraid.' A beat. 'Is that okay?'
Wendy smiled, and it was like light. 'Yes, yes! It is more than okay, it is wonderful!' And then, like mother, 'It is human, Rufio.'
His smile came carefully, but when it did it was just that: human. He heaved a great, long-caged sigh, and felt as if he had shrugged off a few layers of clothing. 'I'm so daunted sometimes,' he said, drawing away from her cautiously. He seemed afraid the air outside her arms would asphyxiate him. It didn't, and he finished his thought. 'By everything.'
Wendy was cold. Her arms had nothing to hold, and so she wrapped them around herself. Mother bid goodnight, and Wendy was alone again with a kissless mouth. 'I am too, sometimes. But nothing can hurt you here, unless you want it to.' Her voice was naked and hushed. 'Sometimes I'm terrified.' Rufio looked at her, puzzled.
'But you have the option of going back,' he said, nearly bitter.
'I'm afraid of that, too,' she said in a very small voice. Her eyes were on the locket, or perhaps the twinkling light that rested very near to it. Rufio could not tell, but his eyes were clearing. He made an educated guess.
'Neverland makes you forget,' he said, eyes fixed on the light. 'You can't let that happen,' but now he was looking at her while she looked away. 'Even if Pan promises the stars.'
Wendy looked up, and her eyes were very wide.
'You have the option of going back,' Rufio said, evenly.
But Wendy's gaze fell again, and she was scooping the star and the locket into her hands. She looked with mussed eyes, first to one, then the other. Wendy sighed, slipping the star into the trinket and shutting it. 'I can't,' she said.
Rufio resigned. 'Strength'll come,' he said. Wendy had strung the chain back through the locket. There it was, beside the acorn, beside her heart. She reached out and caught Rufio's hand.
'For you, too,' she said.
He looked down at their hands with a blank face. 'Maybe some day.'
She let him go, and he looked up in time to see empathetic eyes. They were sad eyes, too, and he turned away from them. His steps ached as he returned to the night, and his arms ached as he pulled himself into the branches of the Nevertree, and his self ached as he watched the forest. He would not be surprised if bruises decorated him by morning, for hurt showed very plainly in Neverland.
Below Rufio, in the Nevertree, Wendy's fingers curled around the locket. She did not sleep for a very long time.
