So This Is Neverland

DISCLAIMER: Peter Pan/any character/setting you recognize belongs to J.M. Barrie, not me. I only own Bryn.

(A/N: I've had this story written in one of my many random notebooks and decided to post it on here. I know it's a bit odd, but hey, you know me… crazy ideas. My imaginary friend made me do it!)

Chapter 1: Would You Go With Me

It was late. The night she would escape had arrived. Leave the dank, dark ship on which she had been kept for...well, a very long time. The wheel was turning again, she thought. In other words, the season was changing. At least, that was what Bryn Turner remembered from a fairy story she had read, not so very long ago, when she was free. She was fifteen now, and that was where her age would stay, though she didn't know why. One day she had been considered a street urchin in London, and the next she was here. A tall, skinny, gaunt mad with frivolously long, silly, curly brown hair who wore grand clothes and insisted that every living being on 'HIS' ship address him as 'CAPTAIN' Hook (quite stupidly, in her opinion) had given her the choice of piracy or death. He did not know of her immortality secret. No one knew. After all, she HAD been bitten by that vampire last summer but did not realize the effect of the bite giving her immortality. Sure, she had noticed the sizably longer canines and the sudden occasional thirst for blood (which she tried to only consume with extreme cautiousness and only when she needed it), but she had never really thought about it. She figured this part out after that fateful choice was flung at her. She'd been practicing her ability to appear in another place since she had been brought here. It was finally strong enough, she ventured, to get her from Point A (The ship, quite obviously) to Point B (the shore; easy enough). She could move from room to room by now, but she had never risked such distance as this. She crept up to the deck. Empty. She went to the far-starboard side, spinning on her heel to check once more for clearance before childishly sticking her tongue out at Hook's quarters door.

She concentrated hard, focusing all her energy on her goal of the desired shoreline. Just when she felt as if she'd collapsed from over concentration her knees thudded onto sandy beach. She was so exhausted from the effort put into the transport that she instinctively curled into a ball on the ground. She knew what was coming. Purple spots... was that a boy's face! surely n... white. Complete white. Then black. It'd happened before. A small figure crouched over her, fingertips mere inches from her flushed cheek. No more than fifteen himself, he gazed down at the creature. He'd never seen a real lady, save the mermaids (whom hardly counted) and Wendy. The strange, mysterious boy sat down in the sand, pulling her into his lap and cradling her head in one arm. He was safe, he figured. After all, if she turned out to be a terrible, deadly something, he had his silver dagger with the emerald on the hilt tucked safely into his boot.

As he sat there, the mysterious girl in his arms, he looked down into her face. She seemed peaceful, but at the same time troubled, for a guttural sound rose in her throat and her brows furrowed. Dreaming. Or nightmare-ing. Her eyes moved rapidly behind her eyelids. Wendy - 'Mother' as he used to call her long before she decided to go and grow up, had once told them of how she'd heard that people's eyes moved frantically back and forth when in a deep state of dreaming. He decided it would be alright to examine her, before he knew if she was good or evil. She had waist length platinum locks that were light and flowing around her, and fair skin with a sprinkling of freckles across her collarbone. He had no chance to see her eyes, but somehow he knew they were a deep brown colour with clear-shocking flecks of green. How he knew this he had no apparent clue. She had a small waist and a clean-cut, small silhouette, tiny feet, and delicate hands, though her nails were bitten down short. She wore a thigh brushing, jagged hemmed, spaghetti strap dress in a neon shade of green, with matching arm warmers and still-matching knees boots. He took note of the dagger peaking from the top of the left one, wary of her wielding abilities. The glint of the emerald on the hilt attracted him. It matched his exactly. A sudden rush of realization raced over him. He remembered his last trip to London not so very long ago.

He had been in a knife shop, eyeing the 'Twin Daggers' as the tag marked them, sitting on a shelf. He had stolen a change purse from an elaborately dressed, quite wealthy-looking fellow without notice. He tugged the sleeve of the shopkeeper silently, who had been stocking another shelf while keeping an eye on the boy. "May I help you?" He questioned, looking into the boy's grubby face. The boy pointed to the daggers. "You wish to purchase those? Are you sure you can afford 'em, young'un? Why, we've got some smaller, cheaper pocket knives over here which I believe will be more in your price range." The man scoffed with doubt, but the boy persistently nodded no and the man was obliged to steer him away, but the boy grabbed the daggers and thrust them into his palms. "Bless your soul, boy. How much've you got?" He asked incredulously. The boy plunked the considerably heavy change purse down on the counter and the man figured the cost. "There you are, son. Now be careful with those!" He practically shouted, watching as the boy tucked each dagger into a respective leather fringed boot. "Good day. Strange little lad." The shopkeeper murmured as the boy exited without a parting glance. he had wriggled through a crowd of particularly angry-looking adults when a strange sight floated into his vision. A young girl much his age, about fourteen, was on the ground, quickly scooting backwards away from a woman brandishing a broom.

He stood there, dumbly rooted to the spot for a second, before rushing toward the pair and dropping the purse in haste. He scooped the girl up under the arms gently, whispering something in her ear. He put his arm around her shoulders. She went along with the rant perfectly, directing her eyes down and coughing. "Sorry, Madam, you see my -er- SISTER is ill. She doesn't know what she's doing." He pleaded, his voice cracking and breaking from recent lack of use. "Stolen sumthin' from me sheh did!" The woman screeched. "I apologize for her boldness. Mary, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times..." He trailed, leading her away from the rabid store owner until a safe distance away. He turned back to his companion only to find she'd vanished. And she'd taken a dagger with her. Damnit, how could he be so careless with his belongings like that. he moved on toward Kensington Gardens, guarding that remaining dagger like a common thief, their only bond.

He was jolted from his memory as the girl stirred. Se was conscious, but did not open her eyes. Feigning sleep. Surely it had been a dream, the escape. She had imagined transporting herself to the land. She had imagined fainting. She had imagined the pair of icy green eyes peering down at her. Slowly she opened one eye and then the other. The floor seemed to have gotten softer, odd. Suddenly it shifted and her eyes flew up to look into the slightly dirty face of a boy with messy brown shoulder length brown hair. He had a piece of cloth-like material creating a headband pushing his bangs back. She opened her mouth, baring her sharp canines in a hiss. He pulled her into standing position, holding her against him and pressing his dagger to her jaw. "I don't mean any harm, miss. If I let you go, do you swear to the same agreement? Promise I won't do any harm." He asked, turning his head to look into her face. She nodded slowly. He let go, sending her tumbling to the ground. "Ih-" It had been so long since she had heard a kind voice, and even longer since she'd used her own. She guessed she'd become an animal of sorts, being ordered around and snarled at. Her voice was soft and rough, crackling hoarsely as she rasped, "Is this really Neverland?" while propping herself up on her elbows. He rose into the air, feet no longer touching the ground in a kind of silent answer. "What is your name?" he asked. "What is yours?" She returned, not wanting to play any silly head games. "I'm Nibs. I'm a lost boy." "I am Bryn. I'm a vampire." She answered in a similar fashion. "Does blood taste good?" He asked curiously. "Oh yes. If you're not careful, I may try some of yours." She said jokingly with a laugh in her voice. She stood up and stretched. "What is there to do around here, anyway?" She asked, fiddling with teh hem of her skirt. "Bryn." He whispered from behind her. He had somehow moved around her when she wasn't looking. "I could take you flying." He whispered into her ear. His face was pressed into her hair. It smelled good. Like lily-of-the-valley. She jumped a bit as his breath hit her ear. She closed her eyes, biting her lip and nodding once more. "Take my hands, and whatever happens, don't let go." He commanded softly, lifting her into the air.

Bryn never much cared for heights. Nibs, on the other hand, loved them. They were high above the clouds at this very moment. Unable to fly hand in hand with someone, he had nearly dropped her, only to catch her by the waist. She now flew below him, arms outstretched like a bird's wings, feet flying behind her, with his hands supporting her by the ribcage. How free she felt. She found herself forgetting her fear of heights and enjoying the situation at hand. Presently they landed in a small grove of trees. "Bryn, do you think- do you think you'd like to meet the other lost boys? They are well named." He offered, eager for an answer. "There are more of you?" Was all she could muster. "Yes. And fairies. I'll have to blindfold you. Just in case, until I can really trust you. But I'll leave that part to Peter." She wasn't all for the blindfold idea, but she agreed anyway. "Alright." It was an adventure, after all. She allowed herself to be blindfolded and led to a tree in the center of a forest. Once inside, the blindfold gone, she was met by a very uncomfortable sight. Six, count 'em, six boys stared back at her, completely dumbstruck. Nibs, still standing behind her, nudged her forward toward them. A boy sat, well, crouched, on a chair, sharpening a dagger. He was surrounded by five boys, all of whom announced themselves as Curly, Slightly, Tootles, and the Twins. "And I am Peter. Pan." The last boy in the chair added proudly, swelling with confidence and fearlessness.

"Who are you, lady?" the one called Peter, obviously the leader, asked uninterestedly, examining his dirty fingernails. "I am Bryn." "Bryn? What kind of name is Bryn? No, your new name is Mouse. Quiet and skinny. So, Mouse. How did you get here?" "It's none of your concern how I got here. Besides, who died and gave you the title of supreme decision maker? If there was an award for the person with the biggest ego, you'd win, chips down, by a landslide." Bryn snapped irritably. Her eyes were turning. "B-Mouse, your eyes... they're turning red. Are you alright?" Nibs looked worried. Bryn didn't answer. She was glaring at peter. How could he be so big-headed? Without thinking she lunged at him, flashing her fangs. He jumped out of the chair sideways as she crashed onto it, curling up on it and laying down. "Nibs, she's evil. Why did you... Nibs, what ARE you doing?" Slightly looked shocked as Nibs sat down on the floor next to her, stroking her hair and watching her eyes return to normal. The red faded and the enlarged pupils returned to normal size. "Bryn is a Celtic name." She whispered.

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A/N(again) Hope you enjoyed, I'm adding another chapter right now I just wanted to break it into pieces so it would be a bit less confusing.

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