Return To Me

by River Angel Odin

After an trip with Peter Pan to Neverland Amy Renolds and her younger brother Eric decide that they must return home. Peter Pan makes a promise to them that he will return to London every night to visit.

2. Flight

Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any other characters, locations, etc. mentioned in the books and movies.

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Chapter 2 – Flight

"Tink, what's your problem?" Peter lifted a hand to push the tiny ball of bright light to the side. There was a soft flourish of bells and that same ball of light seemed to be hanging onto the very edge of the red feather attached to Peter's green hat for dear life. The even tinier figure floating within that ball of light had a look of exertion on her face, tossing her head in a few different directions in her fruitless effort to pull him back. She was small but certainly not naïve and she knew that she had no hope in pulling Peter back. Tinkerbell was, after all, just the size of a baby's fist while Peter was that of a full-grown 15 year old boy.

Peter swept through the sky, the force of the wind finally sending Tinkerbell spinning for a few feet before she turned and zoomed forward to catch up with Peter. The boy turned his head, an amused grin appearing on his face just as he heard a burst of angry bells that was far too familiar to him. "Tink, you're not my mother!" For a split second, his tone was annoyance, but it was blocked by his laugh seconds afterwards. He shifted his position so that he was floating slowly backwards, his eyes on Tinkerbell. "You're a great friend and all, but let's be serious. You're practically 4 inches tall." Tinkerbell pressed her lips together and her face quickly grew redder. She slowed her pace a bit as she threw her head into the air, all 5 tiny fingers raised. A smug look stretched itself across Peter's face and he turned away from her, raising his voice to retort, "Oh, right, sorry. 5 inches."

Peter was lucky for his ability to fly. He would never last on the streets below. He'd seen the worst happen down there from his hideout in the dark night skies. He'd seen things that he never imagined he would have to see. Not only that, though, but as Peter looked down at the streets and their bizarre arrangement, all he saw was a giant maze. A labyrinth. He couldn't imagine having to find his way through that maze, much less actually live in it.

The sound of bells distracted Peter from his thoughts, and he looked toward the ball of light flitting from the left to the right and back again. "I'll go where I want to go!" Peter snapped, responding to the ringing. His confidence showed, but he actually had no idea why Tinkerbell was acting the way she was. All her actions had done, though, was, naturally, make him curious.

Peter descended slightly as he glided through the sky. His copper eyes shifted toward Tinkerbell, who had erupted into her usual fit where the volume of the ringing bells differed every second. She had flitted straight into his face, waving her arms in his eyes. It was almost as if she was trying to block his view, which was unsuccessful. Peter could see everything in front of him. What he couldn't see, though, was what Tinkerbell could possibly be having a fit over. "So this is what I get when I feel like taking a trip through London for the night?" he grumbled, narrowing his eyes a bit. He had stopped his flying moments before and was now floating there in mid-air, looking for any sign of whatever it was Tinkerbell was trying to hide. All he could see, though, were houses, more house, and the sky beyond. Peter glanced toward the fairy, puzzled. She didn't respond, only looked away in a huff.

Peter's eyes were locked to that general area for a few more moments before he finally broke away. He was about to turn, but his eyes fell upon a building just below him. The house was dark blue, but it almost looked black in the darkness. He couldn't see much of it since he was floating eye-level with the roof, but just below him was an open window. Aqua-colored curtains fluttered out through the window while to hang onto the inside for dear life. Peter couldn't help but feel a strange familiarity about the place. He squinted a bit. No, nothing. There was nothing he recognized. Curiosity kept Peter floating forward, though, straight toward the window. He ignored Tinkerbell's angry bells, perhaps not even registering their sound in her mind. He landed softly on the outside windowsill, peeked into the dark room and then stepping inside.