A/N: Hi guys! Here is a new chapter for you all. Also, thanks for the review. I took your advice and have fixed up future chapters and have also revised this one a tad as well! I've already gotten several other rough drafts of chapters written. Anyways, enjoy!

"Peter," I said, interrupting his continuous rant of nonsense that I had no intention of paying attention to.

"Oh- what?" He asked, raising his eyebrows but never completely turning to me, his emerald eyes were still attached to the paper. His fingers grazed gently over the map.

I pointed to the messy penmanship scrawled in the far left corner and nudged his arm, "That's a signature, you idiot, how did you not see that?"

"I did- I just, I forgot to tell you." Peter replied bluntly, completely ignoring the fact that he actually didn't know. But I wasn't surprised that Peter would do that, he didn't exactly like to be corrected. "I can't read it, it looks like someone tried to smudge it out."

I peered at it and tried to reach over him to smooth the paper out even more, but I noticed that it really did seem as if someone had tried to scratch it out. I could faintly see the last initial of an 'H' that hadn't been smudged out very well, but the first letter was barely visible, "Well that's an 'H'…" I mumbled, eying the paper.

He brought it about an inch away from his eye and I laughed lightly, causing him to raise his lips into an amused smirk, "Don't laugh," He said, and continued to scan his eyes over the page but finally gave up after a few moments, "I don't know. It could be anything, Birdie."

"Shit," I muttered and ran my hands down my face, "Well, I don't think it's all that important anyways. Why would a map be so important?"

"Are you kidding? Just look at the thing." Peter said, a petulant grin on his face.

Sure, it was color-coded and the intricacy of the designs was amazing, but it was a map, and Peter tends to blow things 'out of the water' just for the excitement of it. The map was absolutely gorgeous but the only way that it would mean something was if it were Naira's, and for now, we've absolutely no proof that it's hers.

"I'm not that worried about it," I replied and stood up, brushing my white long sleeved shirt down that had risen up to show my pants line. "Until we can find out exactly whose it is then I don't think it's that useful."

Peter blew out a breath and shoved the paper into his back pocket before standing up as well, "Maybe I can get Tink or one of the other Fairy's to try and figure out what it says."

"Yeah, you can try, but that thing looks done for."

"Don't be so negative Birdie," Peter laughed as we walked out of his quaint room and through the bearskin flap. "You act like once something is broken it can't be fixed."

I paused and furrowed my eyebrows, letting him walk ahead of me only because that statement sounded strangely familiar. It almost reminded me of my current situation, but at the moment, I wasn't even sure how it could. Everything about the past two weeks had become such a confusing mess to me that I didn't even have the effort left to try and figure it out.

And even though I'd said I didn't think the map was important, and neither was Naira, the thought of both things was eating me alive. Everything seemed to have me near a tipping point now. I was like a boiling pot of water, scorching those in defense of whoever seemed too close for comfort, including my wandering mind.

Peter continued walking into the steamed up atmosphere of the kitchen, his eye caught sight of Wendy and he walked up behind her. Through the faint smog, I saw him throw a light arm around her petite shoulders and he whispered something into her ear. My curiosity peeked, but I didn't want to impose on their quality time, even though there had been plenty of it. If anything, I needed quality time with Peter, but how would I even ask for that? Maybe Aura or Lily could help me out…

No.

None of that; the Jolly Rodger is out there for some reason and besides Peter, there's other things that are distracting me. Everything was. I huffed as I gave the pair one last look and turned to the group of boys on the opposite side of the den, whom were all hanging out on the leather couches in front of a small crackling fire built into the wall. The smoke churned through a small hole that had been dug out above it that would lead the smoke into the air outside.

With a small feeling of discomfort and a sigh, I spotted Sawyer and Slightly on one of the couches that leaned against a back wall. I moved towards them, pushing through boys who only gave me half-assed greetings, and sat beside Sawyer.

For a few moments I sat quietly, a state of serendipity that never seemed to happen often washed over me. Usually I was distracted by the plethora of wrestling or chatting boys, but it was peaceful right now. And I found that the more I sat here, the more my morose lightened and I found myself floating away from the troubles that had embedded themselves into the hanging threads of my mind.

But that was broken as soon as Sawyer nudged my arm, his infamous grin plastered onto his face.

"What, Sawyer?" I groaned and pulled my knees to my chest, leaning into his side just a little bit. But it was never considered anything more than just a brotherly-sisterly relationship; well, at least for me that was how it was.

"Why're you acting so strange lately?"

"I don't know," I groaned. "Why's it matter anyways?"

"Because I don't need you getting all upset on us." Sawyer nudged me again.

"I'm not upset, okay? Leave it."

"Then what is it," He asked, completely ignoring my request. "Is it about Wendy again?"

The sudden change of direction in this conversation gave me a modicum of discomfort, and though he was my confidant, I didn't like where this was going all of a sudden.

"No."

"About Peter then?" He continued to press.

"No, Sawyer."

"The Jolly Rodger? Why can't you just tell me? Why's it so hard to, you know, talk about your feelings?" Sawyer questioned with the exasperated tone in his voice that I knew all too well. For some reason I was just a little taken aback that he was so curious, but that was how Sawyer was.

"If I wanted to talk about my damned feelings then I would have started that a long time ago, okay? How come you can't just leave it be? Why do you always have to be so persistent and know everything?" I asked defensively.

Sawyer leaned back into the couch with a faint hint of a grin still on his lips, for it never seemed to leave completely. Slightly sat beside him but it was easy to tell that he was just as interested in the conversation as Sawyer was as he watched from the corner of his eye. "Because I often find that when you don't share your feelings, you run away from them instead."

"Well," I shrugged, "I haven't run away yet, so obviously there's nothing that I need to share."

But that was a lie, it usually was. I seemed to be hiding my feelings more and more ever since Wendy had arrived and came in between the strong friendship that Peter and I shared. The truth was, I was just so aggravated and stressed that I couldn't think straight.

"I know you're lying," He whispered to me over the crackling of the fireplace and the chatting of the boys. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

I paused, considering the question just because I knew that I could trust Sawyer with my life, "Fine."

As soon as the words had escaped my lips, Sawyer had yanked me up and ran up the stairs and out of the hideout. I was going to ask what the rush was but the lack of air as we continued to run through the trees was hitting me. Leaves slapped at my face from our fast pace, and I fumbled over pebbles and twigs before I could even try to regain my balance. The whiz of greenery that flew past me could not even be distinguished between trees or bushes from our speed, and I wondered how he could even run this fast. His tight grip on my wrist was the only motivation for me to keep up.

He was always eager to know what I had to say, and I found that he was the only one that seemed to feel that way out of all of the boys.

We slowed to a walk, which I was thankful for, and pushed through the last few green bushes before we came to the small pond that Sawyer and I usually hung out around. It was incredibly clear compared to any other source of water here, the few neon colored fish that swum around in it were extremely noticeable compared to the soft brown of the dirt underneath it. It wasn't too big, but was large enough to fit the Lost Boys and I all together. It was just a small clearing surrounded by trees that seemed to scrape the clouds, that is, when the clouds were even out. But it held enough privacy for me, more than any other place I seemed to know. The forest was dense here, thicker than around other clearings. When peering into the pond, it looked as if there were two skies instead of just the one above us. It was absolutely amazing.

Sawyer dragged me to the edge of the pond and sat me on the broken log that we often used as a bench. The water threatened to lick the soles of my boots, but it never reached close enough for that.

He didn't say much at first and observed the fish swimming around lazily, but he finally turned to me with a sigh.

"What's the big deal," He pressed, curiosity twitching his eyebrow into a furrow. "What's going on?"

"Things." I mumbled.

Even if the thought of spilling my troubles to Sawyer was tempting, I found it to be incredibly difficult. Just the thought of it made me want to run away, to possibly get lost in the pernicious forest of the night that seemed abundant with creatures that could sweep me up. But Sawyer was known for being inveterate, never leaving the situation alone even when I'd asked. It seemed as if he'd follow me to every edge of this island just to get a peek into my mind.

Maybe he would.

"Come on," He whispered, his chestnut eyes gleaming like they were a set of stars reflecting against the sky. A myriad of emotion ran through them, and he looked to be restraining himself from something. The way his arms tensed gave it away. "Why can't you just tell me? You know I'd never say anything to anyone."

I searched his eyes for a moment, as if reaching for any sight of a calamitous ending to what would happen if I told him. But his features held sincerity, and it even seemed as if the freckles that sprinkled across his nose were accepting of me. "It's just," I began, unsure of how to start. "It's hard to tell you these things. I feel like I'll regret everything if I do."

"And why do you feel like that?"

I sighed, ripping my gaze away from him and looking back towards the pond. The neon fish seemed to catch my falling attention, "Because I don't do this type of thing often, you know that."

"Maybe if you started to, you would feel a lot better."

And it made sense, it really did. But I was struggling to knock down the defensive walls I had built up for situations like this.

"I know." Was my reply.

Sawyer peered at me, his gaze never leaving the side of my face, and I wondered if his searching eyes were admiring or ruminative. He scooted closer to me and the side of his thigh pressed gently against mine. With a deep sigh, he threw his arm around my shoulders and pressed my body closer to his. But I didn't mind. It was comforting for once, to have someone so touchy with me simply because they cared.

"Well then tell me, Birdie, you really need to tell someone. Can that someone please be me? We share everything with each other." He said; his other hand ran through his soft brown hair.

"I don't know where to start," I said and fumbled with my fingers.

"Is it about-"

"It's about everything," I admitted before he could begin to assume things like he had a tendency to do. "Everything, Sawyer, absolutely everything. I came to Neverland because I wanted to get away from things that were stressful, the feeling of being lost, and I wanted an escape from it all. But it seems like everything that I'd run from is returning to me, like it's catching up or something," My voice faltered, and my sclerotic face that I'd used as common defense was deteriorating into a tremulous one.

"Everything was fine before Wendy came, you know? And I hate that she's ruined my entire mood just with her company. I can't do it, Sawyer, I really can't. I feel like the thought of Peter and Wendy together, the Jolly Rodger returning, and Naira, is just ripping me into shreds. I can't even begin to fathom what's going to happen in a few days, or a few weeks, or a few years- but it all feels so close even though it shouldn't make me scared at all. Why am I so frightened? I don't-"

"Birdie," Sawyer said softly, interrupting the rambling that seemed to disguise the feeling of my throat clamping shut, and the rebarbative feeling of tears pressing against my eyes. "Calm down, you sound like you're about to have a panic attack."

"I am! I am, Sawyer! And I don't know why!" I threw my face into my hands, a weak attempt at stopping the persistent tears from falling into my palms. Only a few managed to press through.

"This needs to be fixed," He replied, running a gentle hand up and down my back. "Either you need to tell Peter or you need to try and move on. As for Naira and the Jolly Rodger, I know that you're one of our most skilled fighters here, you always have been. I know that the last time you saw the crew was when you were badly injured, but it's different now. We're in control, Birdie."

"No," I whispered, bringing up my head to face him and shoving his hand off of my back. "It's too much, it's not supposed to be like this."

"Birdie-"

"Sawyer," I whispered, searching his eyes for anything, just for something, because I felt like I was going to collapse underneath the weight of anxiety. "Why can't I handle this?"

And as much as I needed an answer desperately, he looked as confused and emotional as I felt. He was feeding off of me, and I didn't want that. "I don't know."

"This was a bad decision," I decided, glancing towards the tree line for an easy escape. "I'm leaving."

I stood up from the log, barely noticing Sawyer attempting to reach out for my wrist but I jumped backwards. "Don't run," He whispered, a frown reaching his features, "You don't always need to run."

"But I don't like the feeling of being chased." I frowned back at him.

"By what?" He asked, throwing his hands into the air from sheer confusion. "By what, Birdie?"

"Myself."

I gave him one last dismal glance, and I turned to run into the forest before he could stop me.