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This is just a short, kinda fluffy drabble. I've been watching Once Upon a Time and the new storyline/setting makes me both happy and sad, so I had to write a little bit of fluff. Hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: Neris has a bad dream during her recovery time from being tortured. Stiles reads to her to comfort her.

It was dark. Something was hurting her. It felt like there were knives being driven into every inch of her. It was dark. She couldn't see what hurting her. She couldn't see who. But it hurt. She couldn't move. She couldn't get away.

Neris' eyes flew open, her breathing heavy as the last remnants of the dream clung to her. Next to her, Stiles stirred as well, his sleep disturbed by the large gasp Neris had made.

"Whuzzapp'n?" He mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"Sorry, Stiles," Neris apologized softly, patting him lightly on the side. "Just a bad dream."

Stiles sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Same as last time?"

Neris nodded, "Same one."

He reached over and rubbed her knee sympathetically, frowning from the inability to help his friend. Neris sighed and ran her hands through her hair and up over her face, covering her eyes. Stiles took this opportunity to turn the bedside lamp on. There was no use sitting in the dark if neither of them were close to falling back asleep.

"I wish there was something I could do to help you," he told her, standing up and stretching.

"I do too," she confessed.

Stiles drew in a deep breath, racking his brain for any way to help calm his friend down. This was the umpteenth nightmare she had dreamt. They had tried playing cards, Tumblr, and even feel-good comedies, but nothing had kept the dreams away for long.

And then his eyes caught something. He had been in Neris' room countless times, and up until now he had been too preoccupied with other things and hadn't really paid attention to the little ones, like the fact that sat in a small section of her bookshelf were children's books. Their spines were creased and well worn, as if they were opened and read many times over.

"What are these?" Stiles asked, walking over to them.

"The kid's books?" Neris questioned, looking over to her bookshelf. "My mom and dad read them to me when I was little. Dad was better, though. He did the voices for the characters and everything."

"Did it make you feel happy?"

"Um, I guess. Why?"

Stiles gave a small smirk and pulled a book off the shelf, hiding the title from Neris' view.

"Stiles, what are you doing?" She giggled as he plopped on the bed, causing the water mattress to ripple wildly.

"Shhh," he shushed, leaning against the headboard and opening the book. "All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, "Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!" This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end."

And so he read to her, affecting an accent when he voiced the different characters. Neris smiled, snuggling into the crook of his arm as he held the book on his stomach.

"Wendy, do come with me and tell the other boys."

Of course she was very pleased to be asked, but she said, "Oh dear, I can't. Think of mummy! Besides, I can't fly."

"I'll teach you."

"Oh, how lovely to fly."

"I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go."

"Oo!" she exclaimed rapturously.

"Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me saying funny things to the stars."

"Oo!"

"And, Wendy, there are mermaids."

"Mermaids! With tails?"

"Such long tails."

"Oh," cried Wendy, "to see a mermaid!"

"Mermaids in this story are just as nice as the ones in real life," Neris quipped.

Stiles chuckled, "And I'm glad I'm never going to meet either of them."

Neris snorted lightly from her spot beside him as he continued reading. She felt her eyes get heavy when Peter, Wendy, John and Michael reached Neverland. She might've dozed off for a split second when Tootles shot Wendy when Tinkerbell told him to.

"If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire. But just before they go on fire you see the lagoon. This is the nearest you ever get to it on the mainland, just one heavenly moment; if there could be two moments you might see the surf and hear the mermaids singing."

Stiles looked over to Neris, about to make a comment about the island in Italy, but found her sleeping soundly nestled in his arm. He smiled slightly as he reached over and turned the bedside lamp back off, but he kept the book beside him just in case the dream came back.

That night, however, was one of the few times it didn't.