AU Peter Pan(Flyer) and Tink(Vatra)

It had been a while since he had gone to a store. The young man hardly ever had to get anything, and if he did then one of his boys had went into town and gotten it. It had been that way for years long before he knew the two people in his life that had made hm come back to town. This young man went by the name of Peter Tremio, ace thief and all around humanitarian who had long ago made a terrible mistake. You see the man who had the nickname of Pan long ago had two friends, both girls. One was a fiery fierce thing with hair a flaming red and enough gusto to make a lion kneel. The other a darling young woman who had the misfortune to be a rival of the redhead. You see the redhead was horribly jealous and horribly possessive of the young boy. Shoot down the Wendy Bird was the cry that went up, and Peter made the mistake to support the bird and not the pixie and so the pixie ran away, leaving the pan with the bird.

It had been a while since Peter had seen either Tink or Wendy, at least a year he guessed. Ever since the plague hit the three had been separated. Since the plague had hit Peter had remained by the lake he met Tink at, hoping she'd come back, but she never did. She had no reason to, not after she stormed off to parts unknown. Wendy stayed though, stayed right up until the plague happened. He knew she'd go, James and William were more important than he was. Much to his chagrin he would have to admit that. He would also have to admit that Tink was right about a few things. "Liar! All you are, Peter Tremio, is a liar and a thief!" That's what she said before their falling out, and she was right about those two things, and many more than that. Scoundrel, dirtbag, self-absorbed jerk, cheater, etc. That and much more was true about Peter "Pan" Tremio. A no good common thief, or in this case a pick-up and drop-off boy for a certain criminal underbelly.

He hadn't been in the town for a long time, maybe a month or so now, and already he was getting reacquainted with things. He was trying to use his own mental geography of the place, which at this point was horribly outdated, in order to find his way around. It wasn't working as well as the ne'er-dowel thought it would, and he found himself bumping into countless people and getting horribly lost in the process. Every once in a while in this idiotic attempt to find his way he found himself glancing at his shadow, as if it were going to run off and he needed to keep an eye on it. The young man soon found himself in one of the poorer areas of the village, not a surprise since he'd probably be executed if he wandered anywhere near the richer areas.

An out of the way establishment, a blacksmith's forge. Peter's left hand drifted towards his back and gripped the, well, grip of the blade. It was a bright yellow, nearly golden, color and engraved on it was a phrase: LUCK & LUCK. They were the two things any good thief had, and things all bad thieves needed: luck and then more luck on top of it. The blade, about a foot and a half long was in the category of dagger, despite resembling more a sword than a grandma's carving knife. The edge, while still there, was getting duller. Peter raised his right arm and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. For some reason his thoughts went back to Tink, as they usually did. Out of all the Lost Boys she was the first Lost Girl, the one who managed to beat Peter. He promised her that no one would ever come between them, but then Wendy appeared. A crying girl in the night that Peter could not just walk by and ignore.

It wasn't in him to abandon someone, yet by going to Wendy he betrayed Tink. He broke the promise, or rather Tink thought he did. If only he had realized it sooner. His fingers traced the star like pattern on his left shoulder blade. It was a strange birthmark, but an identifier. An identifier that made sure he was him. His brown leather boots paced towards the forge and entered the establishment. "Dear Sir, might I inquire after a particular item? You see sir, I am in need of something rather unique. I am in need of a special gift for someone rather special. A gift fit for a pixie, although that supposes a pixie fit for a gift." Peter coughed as he finished his sentence, rather alarmed by the cough being a sort of black cloud, as if just being in the forge was enough to give him black lung. "Let me get down to business. First I need this polished and sharpened." He pulled LUCK & LUCK from the sheathe and gave it a slight flip, catching the blade in his hand and pointing the pommel towards the older man.

"The next thing is this: the gift. You see I need something fit for a girl, not a little girl mind you. Not exactly a grown woman, one of those in the middle ones. You see I figure that she's about so high and she still has her red hair that she never liked ANYWHERE near her eyes. So it's gotta look good with red, it also has to look good against light skin. As for shape. Well how about a pair of wings. And on the back I want it to say 'From Peter to Tink'." The young man smiled a little bit as he finished. Even if he couldn't find Tink, maybe somehow she'd find him, and when she did it would be a good idea to come bearing gifts. Of course Peter wasn't taking into account he had not two silver to rub together, he was little more than a thief's assistant at this point, and most of his coin had gone to tying to take care of the Lost Boys. Ever since the plague more and more boys had ran off into the woods, and thus more and more boys became "Lost."


Tink had been back working on her secret project when a young man approached the shop and began to speak with the old Blacksmith. Tink glanced up maybe once or twice, but did not pay him much attention. While she did find it curious a mere commoner would come to them this close to tax collections, the piece she was pounding away on kept her much more occupied than he did. Once he had left, and Xavier, the old Blacksmith, had told him to come back in a few hours, she spoke up with little interest, not taking her eyes off her piece, "What was that?" Xavier waltzed over to her and placed the lad's sword in front of her. Tink looked up at him, a half frown on her face, "What's this?" Xavier grumbled, "A job. Sharpen the lad's dagger. He asked for a custom order I need to get started on. Some hogwash about pixies and wings or the likes..." The blacksmith had never been quite fond of fairy tales and myths, but something about what he said grabbed at Tink's attention. "Pixies you say?" The man grumbled some more as he placed iron in the fire to be heated, "Aye." Tink's brow pulled together as a memory of sorts tried to push its way to the forefronts of her mind. Unsure of what it was, she glanced down at the blade she'd been given, noticing the writing on the handle, "Luck and Luck." "What?" Xavier questioned without looking at her. "It's what's inscribed on the handle." "Hm." He grunted, before muttering without a second's thought, "He wants an inscription on this one too." Out of happenstance, Tink picked up her head and glanced at the crowd, catching sight of the young man departing. She was almost not listening to the old Blacksmith go on as her mind tried to grab a hold of that memory. But just as the old Blacksmith stated what the inscription were to be, did Tink somehow spot the star birthmark on the lad's shoulder, "Peter?" "From Peter to Tink."

A rush of emotions and memories came to her then, so intense she thought she might be knocked over by them all. "Peter..." It was but a mere whisper, so faint that even the Blacksmith hadn't heard it as she suddenly rushed out the shop and into the ever growing crowd. "Peter." Her pace increased as she suddenly lost the man. She stopped where she was and spun in a circle, wishing, hoping, that she would manage to sight him again, and sure enough, she did. Without a moment's hesitation, Tink was off in the young man's direction, making her way through the crowd. Most of those in her path simply moved aside as not to become "dirtied by her filth", but a few she had to push her way passed. Her heart had all but stopped in that moment, before quickly restarting with a gallop that made her think it might actually leap out from her chest to join her in the chase. "Peter!" She tried to get his attention, but still the crowd pulled them too far apart for her to be heard. Her pace hastened, quickly changing from a brisk walk to a near run. Finally, she was upon him. She reached out for him, pulling at his arm as to stop him while instantaneously placing herself in his path. Her eyes scanned over his face in disbelief. She barely could recognize the young man, as he had been but a mere boy the last time she saw him. But his birthmark, that she would never forget. It wasn't one most could.

"Peter!" Without another word, Tink quickly pulled the lad into her arms, wrapping her own tightly around his neck. She hung there for a moment, holding him tightly as though he might fly away and vanish from sight. She hadn't even given the young man proper time to recognize her or respond for that matter. Tink was covered, head-to-toe, in black soot and dust. The clothes she wore hid any femininity she might have had deeply beneath them. Her mask was partly on her face and her hair was darkened by soot as well. It wouldn't have been unreasonable for the young lad to have not realized who she was. After all, even Tink wouldn't have been able to recognize herself in her current appearance. "Peter...I can't believe it's really you." She finally let go of the lad and stared at him again. As she did so, her smile slowly twisted into a frown as her mind seemed to put something together. "It's been ten years..." Her eyes glanced toward the ground as a sudden anger began to boil within her. "Ten years?!" Without a warning, she shoved the young man toward the crowd. She came at him again, pushing him even more fiercely as she shouted at him, "You waited TEN YEARS to come and find me?!"

The crowd began to part and circle around the pair, waiting for a fight to breakout between the two assumed lads. Tink's face had reddened, though one could not tell beneath all the dirt. Seeming to realize where she was and what she was doing, she suddenly peered at the flock of people and receded a few paces. Embarrassment began to settle on her chest as her eyes stung with fury and anguish. "I-I thought you were dead..." She whispered, before fearing she could take no more and leaving him where he was. She retreated to the crowd and withdrew to herself, fighting back the sudden tears that were trying to press their way onto her soiled cheeks. After all, she had just seen a ghost, or at least in a matter of speaking she had. For all intents and purposes, she had truly believed that Peter had died at the hand's of the plague, like so many others. She blamed herself, punished herself even, for not having been there in his dying moments. She had even cursed herself for not having been strong enough to run away from her mother when she suspected her of giving her away. To put it simply, Tink had grieved for Peter. And now, as she walked away from a boy she had once known in a distant memory, in a bitter way it was as though she were forced to grieve for him again. A boy who she had believed belonged to Neverland...a place separated from the world of the living. A world in which things like faith and trust and a little pixie dust, no longer existed. A place in which fairy tale endings, didn't come true.


Peter left the store with both of his hands on his neck with the star still visible. He blended in with the crowd, his blue eyes watching them and their movements. There were a couple cut-purses in the crowd, some belonging to the same "thieves' guild" as he did. The hustle and bustle of the crowd was deafening but he thought he could hear a voice. A demure little voice that was calling from the crowd. "pe-" He stopped, looking around to see if he could see anything. "Pet-" The voice was growing louder and he had a feeling it was calling to him, a voice that was foreign yet familiar. He stopped, curiosity getting the better of the would-be rogue as he looked around again. "Peter!" 'Pan' found himself pulled into an embrace by a stranger, the man blinking a few times as if that somehow would reveal the person who had grabbed him. The voice was feminine. She spoke with familiarity. She had fiery red hair.

"Tink? TINK!" Peter returned the embrace, overcome with emotions. "Just look at you. Covered in dust, how'd that happen?" He laughed a little bit as he released her. "Surprised to see me?" Peter smiled a bit before he saw her begin to frown. "It's been ten years..." No, it couldn't be that long. "Ten years?!" Had it really been ten years? There's no way it could be that long. It was ten years. Ten years since the plague, ten years since he had seen Wendy or Tink. Who knows how many years since he had left the lake. Peter let Tink push him around, the shock of seeing her was still on his mind. It had taken him a while to realize what he had done to her, if only she understood that Wendy hadn't stolen her place. If only Tink could realize that the most important person in the world to him was her. He would simply have to convince her of that fact. "You waited TEN YEARS to come and find me?!"

"It's hard to find someone when you don't know where to look. Even harder when you don't know if they're alive or not." Peter watched as the girl turned away and retreated into the crowd. His hands balled into fists. Peter had lost her once because of his own fault, but this time would be different. His brown boots followed after her, a gloved hand reached out and placed itself on her shoulder. "Well I guess that means we're both alive, so we both know that." The young man reached into his pocket managing to produce a rag. With his other hand he took her hand and put the rag in it so she could dry her eyes. "Besides, tear's don't suit you, they never did." The crowd had moved off, not happy that a fight hadn't broken out. As if that was somehow a bad thing that a fight hadn't occurred. "I never had a chance to say it Tink but.. I'm sorry."

Peter pulled his hand back and turned around, looking away from the redhead. "Took a while huh?" He laughed to himself, looking upwards. The poor quarter smelled terrible, always did. Smelled worse today, but maybe that was because it was tax day, or because tanneries were working overtime. It didn't seem to matter, since Peter took a long deep breath as he thought. "Oh, you forgot this by the way." The young man knelt down, reaching towards what appeared to be a handle coming from his right boot. He pulled the broken wooden sword from his boot and turned towards Tink, offering the antique to her with a slight smile. Her name was actually carved into the blade but thanks to the effects of time and weathering it now simply read "TIN." It was the original from those years ago, from when the two had first fought and she was thrown into the lake. "Just say the word, and I'll be gone for good if you want."


 "That's no excuse!" Tink shouted at Peter as she walked away from him. But, as she had assumed he would, the lad followed her. Yes they were both alive. It was a miracle, actually! And truthfully, if her head hadn't been so clouded by anger, she would be leaping with joy over it. She had always hoped and wished that perhaps somehow he had made it through, and now here he was, standing before her. Despite this, Tink's head was not clear and she just couldn't understand how they could've been separated for so long. How so much time could have passed. It was as though all of the pain and hurt and betrayal she had felt all those years ago as a little girl was suddenly coming back to her…and with a vengeance. "Besides, tear's don't suit you, they never did." Tink had stopped walking at this point and pushed his hand away, refusing the rag. "No! That's not fair!" She glared at him as he tried to diminish her anger, using that golden tongue of his as he did. "I never had a chance to say it Tink but.. I'm sorry." She listened to his apologies, her face still locked in its current position as if someone had carved that expression into stone. The girl said nothing. Peter turned away from her then and muttered, "Took a while huh?" Her hands balled in and out of fists. The boy chuckled, seeming to try and lighten her mood, but all it did was sadden her.

Tink could understand what he was saying, about it being difficult to find someone when you don't even know where to begin looking or if they're still alive or not. She could understand that…but even still it sounded like a damn excuse to her. It sounded like he was trying to justify the idea that he didn't have to look for her because she could no longer have existed, been dead, or had been taken to another kingdom. She knew Peter too well though. Ten years was a long time to find someone…too long a time. And while she had been sold without him knowing anything about it, and while the plague did claim a lot of lives, she had only been moved one village away. Close enough to have been found within a couple of months of looking…not ten years. Even with her being forced to stay inside most of those first few years. Even with her finally getting out and growing up to hide her womanly figure behind the appearance of an apprentice to a blacksmith. Even with all those things going against her, she knew it should not have taken him as long as it did. This led her to the only conclusion that she could make any sense of, that he had never actually gone to look for her in the first place. She didn't want to believe that. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but her mind just wouldn't seem to allow for it.

By the time she came out of her thoughts, the lad had presented her with something from their past – a small twig-looking thing that once was used as a mighty sword. Carved into the wood were the letters T-I-N. Tink's eyes locked on the object. She couldn't believe he still had that, after all these years. In fact, despite herself, she had actually forgotten about it. Not about their fight, but about the little stick sword with her name carved into it. She was just about to relent and put her pride aside, when the young man decided to open that mouth of his again, "Just say the word, and I'll be gone for good if you want." She knew he didn't intend to be spiteful, but even still, Tink snapped. For one reason or another, those words pushed her past her breaking point…and she had already been standing on thinning ice. Without meaning to, before she had a chance to think rationally and stop herself, her hand reacted in a way it never had before and swung up to meet the lad's cheek, connecting sharply with his familiar skin. "How dare you?!" Her chest was heaving up and down at that point. "You take all the time in the world to come and search for me, and then you threaten to disappear again for good?! Just like that?! Like I was the one who had done something wrong all those years ago! Like I had been the one to break our promise…" Her gaze met the dirt of the ground then as the memory of that night came flooding back to her.

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"You promised! You keep saying Wendy is nothing to you! That she isn't getting between us!! But she is! I watch her day and night! I see the way she looks at you! Don't think me stupid as not to notice the way you've been treating her! All the special attention you give to that girl! Well, I need you too, Pan! I keep asking you to help me… I keep telling you about my worries with my mother! But you still find yourself too preoccupied with that…that bird! I thought you were better than that! I trusted you! I believed you! And now, now this is how you treat me?! Peter Tremio, you are nothing more than a liar and a thief!! I should have never trusted you! My father had warned me to be careful when it came to people like you…and now he's dead, by the likes of a thief nonetheless!! I should have trusted him, not you! After all, he never once betrayed me!"
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Peering back up at Peter, her eyes stung. Two solitary tears had broken their way through, streaking lines down her otherwise blackened face. That memory was a painful one. And one she had long since buried away. She looked at Peter then, really looked at him. The years had been good to him. He had turned into quite a handsome young man. The red handprint that now graced the left side of his face didn't quite suit him. The anger she was feeling began to mix with sadness. Sadness of the time spent apart from the lad. Sadness from the way things had been left between them. Sadness that it had taken him this long to find her; so much time had passed by that their friendship seemed as though it had been a lifetime ago by this point. She even felt sadness for those words she'd spoken to him all those years ago. While she did not take back her anger or the right she had to those feelings, she could recognize how truly cruel and harsh she had been to him – much too much for the circumstances it was under. She had been unfair, and that was something she had never been given the opportunity to correct. "I…" She trailed off, suddenly feeling ashamed.

Looking away from Peter, she stood there silent for a moment. Her body was shaking, begging her to leave and return to the shop as to not have to deal with the disturbance any longer. But even through her panic, shame, guilt, sadness, anger…even through it all, she just could not abandon him now. That memory brought back a lot she had hidden away. During those depressing first years, she had blamed everything entirely on Peter. And she had held onto that anger and blame when she knew she shouldn't have. Now, having that memory reopened, she realized it wasn't all his fault. With extreme difficulty, Tink finally looked back up at Peter, her eyes immediately landing on his reddened face. "I'm so sorry…" She shut her eyes tightly, feeling the tears attempting to push their way back through again. "I'm sorry Peter… I didn't mean to… I don't know what came over me." She allowed her eyes to open again, to focus on the nostalgic blue irises of his. She allowed a deep breath out, calming some of her more brash emotions and helping her body to quit shaking as much as it was. "I just…I guess I just had forgotten how much it hurt… How much leaving the way I did that day had hurt… And then, never getting the chance to make things better…" She trailed off once more, her gaze drifting from his again as regret flooded her eyes, "I'm sorry for what I said all those years ago… I was wrong. And I should never have said those things…"


SLAP. Or should it be snap? Regardless both happened: the first to Peter's face and the second to Tink. Oh one could say he deserved it. Oh they could say he had it coming for a LONG LONG time, and this was his just desserts for breaking a young girl's heart. That a man like him wasn't good for a girl like Tink, or any girl for that matter. After all Tink had been right all those years ago. A no-good liar and thief, a boy so unfit to be with another person that it was a miracle she had put up with him for as long as she did. A monster of a boy who been cruel from Day One, yet she held onto to him as if he could save her from anything. Not then he couldn't, not back then. So self-absorbed and full of himself that even Narcissus himself would have been disgusted. He made the worst mistake then: he didn't tell Tink how he felt about her. He let her run off, he let her leave. She was right then to not trust him, she was right then to leave and curse his name. The Great Peter Tremio was little more than a punk who was equally at home away from civilization as he was living in its seedy underbelly. Peter Tremio: orphan, liar, thief, no good brat.

But that was then, not now. Now his face stung and he reached up and moved his jaw around, as if that somehow was going to help the pain go away. It didn't. Reality was sinking into him, that it was entirely possible Tink had no desire to see him ever again. That he had wronged her in such a fundamental way that she never wished to see him again, if that was the case so be it. "I..." Peter approached her, putting the rag directly to her face as if he were a father to the younger woman. With a few quick movements the tears were gone and he could finally see her face the way Providence had intended. Granted it didn't help with the puffy teared eyes, but it was definitely the face of a young woman. Her outfit might have hidden that but her face, he knew that all too well to get tricked by it. If there were any doubts at all they were gone as she looked away, this was the girl he knew. It wasn't Wendy, but it was someone far more important to him, the who used to be inseparable from him. The Lost Boys would snicker at how close the two were, and how ignorant of her feelings Peter was as a young boy. No he didn't think anything of love or of warmth or of any frilly feeling like that. No he wanted mischief and pranks and making rooster noises to summon the boys.

She was no Wendy. No dainty flower he had to walk on tip toes around, Tink as much one of the boys as he was. She belonged to them, and them to her. Whether or not he, or the other Lost Boys, cared to admit it they needed their Tinkerbell. And in a way it seemed she needed them too. An anchor that never swayed nor slipped, firmly planted and sturdy to the foundation. The only weak chain was him, and it was in a way a good move to leave the boys shortly after the plague hit. He claimed it was because he was too old, but the truth was he needed to escape. The truth was the two people in his life that really mattered, Tink and Wendy, had gone away, and for all he knew never to be seen again. He couldn't admit that back then he was scared. Scared he'd never see them again, scared he'd go back to being alone like before he found his Lost Boys. But he didn't become that scared little boy like he used to be before he ran into the woods all those years ago, no he grew up into the man with a slap mark on his face.

She apologized, whether it was for slapping him or for what she said ten years ago didn't make a bit of difference. She didn't need to apologize, she never had to. He knew before she spoke, it was as if the boy was psychic, which he wasn't. He embraced her, trying to stop her from shaking. It might have been invisible to most but Peter could see it. He could see just how badly she was taking this. He could feel she wanted to run, that his arrival was perhaps not the thing she wanted. That maybe she wanted more the memory of the good times than to be confronted with that moment again. His blue eyes kept close watch on hers as if trying to tell her 'I'm here now, and I'm never going to leave you again.' That much was a promise. Nothing would take him away this time. Not Wendy, not another plague, not even if the sky decided to fall all around them. "I told you tears don't suit you Tink." He laughed a bit after he said that, hoping to at least see a smile from her. Hopefully Tink realized that he wasn't trying to be the ass he had been so long ago, that the boy had grown up at least a bit.

"You weren't that wrong you know. I am a thief, and on occasion I am a liar, but I've been thinking.. I've been doing whatever I want as much as I wanted to, but to tell the truth, to be with you was the best, Tink." Peter tightened his embrace, as if to show her that it was really him. It was really Peter in front of her, the boy wonder that had so long ago misplaced his heart seemed to find it in the ten year interim. Or rather he had found himself, he wasn't 'Lost' anymore. "I'll be here as long as you want, nothing to get between us. I swear it, on my life." There was sincerity in his voice, not the boyish bravado she might have expected from the cock crowing boy that somehow had become a man. A man of character, a man that little lost boys could look to for guidance, to help them become found. Most important he was HER Peter, no one and no thing would take him away. Not Wendy, not another plague, not even if the sky decided to fall all around them. It had taken him a while to realize how important she was, and he'd have to be a colossal idiot to lose her twice.


In all those years of Peter knowing her, he had never once seen Tink cry. It just wasn't something that happened. Like fire freezing or ships that could fly, it just wasn't something that came natural to her. But in that moment, Peter - her Peter, the one she had thought lost forever - taking her into his arms, she just couldn't control it. The tears started flowing as rain from a storm cloud. All that pent up angry, hate, sadness, loss came bubbling up to the surface, breaking through whatever restraints she might have once had to keep them in place. "I told you tears don't suit you Tink." The boy laughed, and Tink, who had simply coiled into his arms, now chuckled through her tears, finally allowing herself to return his embrace and wrap her own arms around him. "Oh, Peter!" She tightened her grasp on him, never wanting to let go and have him be only but a dream to her. "I can't believe it's really you!" Peter's own embrace tightened as he told her, "You weren't that wrong you know. I am a thief, and on occasion I am a liar, but I've been thinking.. I've been doing whatever I want as much as I wanted to, but to tell the truth, to be with you was the best, Tink." Tink's heart faltered, suddenly beating like a war cry. Blush painted her dirtied cheeks and made her head spin slightly. She had never heard him say such kind words to her. Actually, she had never known Peter to be the sentimental type at all. Her suddenly swooning over these words was not something she had expected from him.

Tink looked up at him, refusing to let go of him still. She didn't know what to say to the young man. She was so overwhelmed, all she wanted to do was lock her lips onto his, but she resisted. As happy as she was, a part of her still refused to surrender to him like that. After all, after she had been sold and he hadn't come looking for her, back in those days when she truly believed he had chosen Wendy over herself, she had sealed her heart off, never confiding or giving it to another living being. It was just too painful. Love hurt too much, and in those early years, she didn't think it was worth it. Placing her head back onto his shoulder, she whispered, "...I don't want to lose you again..." But as though he knew her worries, he responded almost immediately, "I'll be here as long as you want, nothing to get between us. I swear it, on my life." Tink shut her eyes tightly, still unable to believe that this was really happening, that Peter was really there with her, holding her tightly in his arms as she had so many times hoped he would. It was funny though, Tink not believing it could happen. But it was true, she had given up on him a long time ago. Long before she finally concluded that he must be dead, the only way she could truly cope with it all and allow herself to move on from him. But she had never truly moved on, and she had never truly forgiven him. And that was something that was hard to come back from...that was why seeing him again, so many years later, was just so difficult for her.

Opening her eyes, Peter was still there and she was still wrapped in his arms. It was no dream, no memory of a distant world, it was reality. A townsperson bumped into the two, hurrying past them, which provided just the right amount of distraction to get Tink to look up at the sky, noting how late it had gotten and how long she had been away from the shop. Xavier was going to be furious with her! You never leave without asking first, and you certainly don't up and vanish during tax season, what was wrong with her?! "Can it be that late already?" She pulled away from Peter slightly, getting a better look at the sky above them. Returning her gaze back to him, he had succeeded in getting her to stop quivering, and no tears to fall anymore. She withdrew her arms from around his torso to wipe her still wet eyes, smiling lightly at him. "Pan." A smirk danced across her lips at the remembrance of the nickname. "I have some work I still need to finish up back at the shop...and as it is now I'll probably get a good yelling at for my disappearance, but I hope you keep your word this time Pan. I hope I will see you again..." The thought of her returning to her current life, without Peter, twisted a knot into her stomach. But she knew Xavier would not respond kindly to a distraction right now, and she did have work she needed to get done. Her mind drifted to a dark haired girl with brown eyes.

Sliding her hands effortlessly to retrieve his own, she smiled widely at him. "Tonight! Let's meet again tonight! I don't know where...or when...but..." She trailed off momentarily, considering her options, "I'm sure I could get out at some point after the stars rise." She smiled at the thought. Seeing him again in the starlight, like they had done so many times when they were kids, she couldn't have hoped for anything better. Well, that's not entirely true. The only thing better would have been if the two were meeting at their old spot. But with that being an hour's walk just from the edge of her hometown, which was at least an hour's walk just from the edge of this town, and the edge of town being...who knew how far from where they were now, she didn't think it a likely choice. Thinking about the lake, though, she realized she hadn't been to her home town in ten years... She hadn't left this town or rarely even the vicinity of the Blacksmith's shop and housing at all in all those years. She had tried once, but ran into a stranger, which stopped her from leaving. Returning from a memory of ice in the middle of summer, she looked at Peter, curious as to what he would think of their departing.


Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Pan was not a nickname he had heard in a long time, and one he wasn't exceptionally proud of for that matter. He had forgotten how he got it, but it quickly became the pet name both Tink and Wendy liked to torment him with. "You're going see me again, I'm not some phantom from the past." Peter tried to reassure her using the only method he knew how other than sincerity: comedy. Too bad he wasn't funny to begin with. He looked down at her and couldn't help but grin. Finally the girl had stopped crying and shaking, his mission had been a success and maybe, just maybe, the two were going to return to the way things were before their blowout. Now he had to find Wendy. Maybe Tink had been blinded by jealousy all those years ago, and that's why things had gone as poorly as they did. No doubt if it took her until now to get over what happened between her and Peter, maybe there was a chance she and Wendy could stop being rivals and start being friends. Probably not going to happen, but it was still a nice thought.

"Tonight? Yeah. We'll meet tonight. How about outside the forge? " Peter grinned at the possibility of what could come from this. Maybe even go to the old village and then to the lake. He let go of her hands and stretched. "Don't worry. I'll be back. Just try to not to get into trouble that I'm not part of!" The young man smiled and ran off. He found Tink, after all this time he finally found her after all these years. now he just had to find Wendy. Darling Wendy or rather Wendy Darling, one of the very few girls Peter had bonded with. For a brief fleeting moment he began to wonder how she and her family were doing. He had only met James and William a few times, but he never saw them with Wendy by the lake. Probably because they were too young, Wendy would have a hard time explaining to her parents why she had taken her LITTLE brothers to a lake to be with some strange man and a jealous little girl who had taught the boy to fly. To fly, how he missed that, he yearned to feel the air as he flew through the sky, touching the clouds and feeling the sun high above the earth.

"Have you heard? There's going to be a festival soon." "A festival? What for?" "Something to do with the two houses." That was it. Peter would go there, and of course he'd have to look good, or rather he'd have to look the part. Formal wear, probably, which meant he'd have to resort to thievery once again. That was easy, as he spotted a particularly fat tax man walking about. An easy catch, and probably as much coin as the man had pounds of fat. Peter smirked as he followed after the man. With luck the rotund tax collector would tire and have to stop, giving him the perfect chance to run off with enough coinage to both pay the blacksmith and a tailor. It happened just as Peter predicted and in an instant Peter was upon him. The man could never be caught off guard, and he slowly reached behind his back to grab his second dagger. There was no point in having only one, but Luck & Luck was indeed the one he favored the most. As he approached the man, he spotted the man's wallet sticking up from the man's back pocket, but it was connected to his belt with a cord. Easy. Pan quickly brought his knife and quickly slashed the cord and reached out to grab the wallet.

The theft was a success and Peter quickly went back into the crowd of people that were going about their daily routine. He looked over his spoils, more than enough to pay for something to wear and the blacksmith. Besides the festival would be a good place to refine his thieving skills, regardless of the fact of who'd be involved. He began plotting what he would do now. It seemed HORRIBLY unlikely that both Wendy AND Tink had come to the same place he had, but stranger things had happened if he was honest. Tink had once frozen a lake in the middle of summer, which backfired stupendously thanks to Peter. Peter made his way through the poor quarter looking for a tailor, hopefully one that was good. His sentimentality had left him almost as soon as he had left Tink and the young man found himself grinning at the somewhat boyish stupidity the children around him were employing. Children, specifically boys, had the tendency to have some sort of cruelty to them, normally in the form of pranks and practical jokes that all girls HATED. After all he had been that boy way back when, Tink never escaped from it, in fact she almost beat him when it came to being a prankster: almost. She'd have to get up a lot earlier for the rest of her life if she wanted to out trick the trickster.


Tink rushed back to the shop, wincing slightly as she entered it. She knew all too well that the old Blacksmith would not be pleased with her, and as soon as she came into his sights, she knew she was right, "Eh! What in God's name ya think you was doin'?!" Xavier was not happy with the girl at all. Tink stumbled briefly, before catching herself on one of the work benches and returning Xavier's stare, "I..." She thought about what she should say to her master before finally responding with the truth, "I am sorry sir! But I hadn't seen that boy in ten years! You can understand why I had to go speak to him...right?" She hoped the old Blacksmith would be able to understand, but even still she worried. I have to see Peter tonight... The old man's gaze stayed on the girl as he muttered, "Aye. But you should've at least finished yer projects, Mosic!" Tink's turquoise eyes trailed to the ground as she knew what he said was true. "As consequences fer yer lack o' production t'day, you will finish every piece in 'ere before ye even think about steppin' foot inside that house, you understand me laddie?" Tink's eyes shot up at Xavier. She briefly scanned over the remaining items...noticing there were quite a few, and couldn't help but let out a low growl. I'll never finish these all by tonight... Xavier must have noticed her discontent as he quickly added, "Ye brought this on yerself, laddie. You know better. I trained ye better!" The old man threw his arms up in frustration as he began walking towards the door. Seeing her still staring at him with that pout on her face, his eyes narrowed.

Tink drew in a breath, trying to keep herself from yelling back at him. She didn't understand why there were so many projects still left to do, even with her having left. Xavier had been there, and he was a far better blacksmith than she would ever be. She knew this. He knew this. He worked twice as quickly as she did and did every job slightly better. So, by her calculations, there should've been a reasonable amount fewer things to do than there appeared to be. Scowling to herself, Tink couldn't help but wonder, Did he stop working when I ran after Peter? I mean...it doesn't look like anything's been done! The old Blacksmith frowned, "Well, get on it, lad! Or ye will be sleepin' in 'ere tonight!" With that the man quickly replaced the piece he had been working on, hung up his hammer, and stormed off into their house. Tink was left alone.

Working diligently, Tink slaved away on one piece after another. It took her hours before she was even close to being halfway finished. Her stomach grumbled, but she knew she would not have time for dinner this night. "God dang it! I'll never get out of here..." Tink groaned as she proceeded to sharpen her once lost, dear old friend's dagger. "I still can't believe he finally found me. Only took him ten years but..." She couldn't help as a small smile crept onto her lips. Even though she was still annoyed that it took him as long as it did, she couldn't hide her inner excitement. And as much as she liked to tell herself that she had hated him, deep down she had always been hoping and waiting for this day, the day they would finally reunite. Secretly, she had always figured that day would only come in death, so she was more than happy that wasn't the case.

Once she finished sharpening the object, she noticed a small crack in the dagger's frame, which led her to placing the metal into the flames of the forge where it sat for a moment or two before finally beginning to glow, at which point the young woman removed the object and hammered at it. It was a rather fine dagger, beautifully designed, which only made Tink wonder if Peter had stolen it at some point. "LUCK & LUCK...interesting." Tilting her head slightly to the right, she stuck the blade into some water to cool it, before finally putting it aside as she had completed its work. Next on the shelf she noticed the piece her master had been working on, the special order Peter had asked for. Her eyes widened as she gazed upon it. It was beautiful and elegant and looked as though the old Blacksmith must have been slaving away meticulously on it for hours on end - which would explain all the projects she had to get finished. Tink took the piece into her hands, turning it over as she fingered the delicate and intricate patterns and designs. "Wow. This is beautiful." Tink took no notice to the inscription on the back and wondered why Peter would order anything like it. "I wonder what it's for..." Her lips pulled slightly to one side as she put the winged pendant back on the shelf beside the finished blade.

Several hours later . . . Tink had become so absorbed in her work she completely forgot about the plans she made with Peter - in fact, she completely forgot Peter had found her earlier in that day. I know, strange something so extraordinary as that might slip the girl's mind. But she was working on a secret project a good friend of hers had asked her help on earlier that month. She had been uncertain about it in the beginning, but eventually agreed to do it, promising to work on it every chance she had. And now, a month later, she was almost done. Just a few more strikes here and there and, "FINALLY!" Tink plopped her head down at her work station, so exhausted she couldn't even fully appreciate the job she just completed. Her stomach growled. "Shuuuush...." She moaned, rubbing her hand over her angered tummy. She hadn't eaten since that morning. Picking her head up, she glanced, for the first time since she began working, outside the shop, noticing how dark it had gotten. The sun had long since set and the moon was already high up in the sky. Her eyes seemed to be blurring, probably with sleepiness, as she tried to focus on the street. "It certainly doesn't look like many people are out tonight..." She whispered to herself curiously, realizing the blurriness wasn't from her tired eyes but from a fog that had settled in the area. She hadn't noticed it until then. The lack of people wasn't particularly peculiar in that area, but she felt as though there should've been at least one person. She couldn't figure out why she thought that though. Her mind was drawing a blank, though whatever it was seemed to play on the tip of her tongue. Her lips pulled to the side again. "Strange..."

Glancing towards the shelf she had been staring at earlier that evening, Tink's face suddenly twisted into a flurry of panic as her plans to see Peter that night came flooding back to her. "Shit!" Rushing into the back of the shop, she quickly found a reasonably clean rag and soaked it in water, before proceeding to attempt and wash herself off a bit. She didn't have time to bathe, so this would have to do. Throwing her work apron off, she desperately tried to comb her fingers through her hair. God damn it! How could I have forgotten this! After everything...really?! Tink patted her hands down her pants, trying to smudge any dust or soot out of them, not that it helped much. She hurried back to the front of her shop to see if she could see any signs of the man, but when she didn't she found herself slightly relieved and ran towards the back to wash herself off some more. She could feel the dirt and grime still caked onto her features. As she neared where the rag was, though, Tink lost her footing and slipped on a small puddle that rested beside their water bucket. Crashing to the ground, she took three of the projects she had finished earlier with her - luckily not the one that mattered, but regardless - the items proceeded to fall on top of her and clattered to the hard earth floor.

"Oww..." Tink groaned as she painfully rolled onto her left side, a hunting knife sticking out from her arm. The sudden onset of blood caused the girl's eyes to widen as an intense wave of pain came over her, causing her to fall back onto her back in agony. "Oh crap... Owe! Crap..." Tink glanced back at the knife and clamped her jaw shut. Taking in several shaky breaths, the girl hesitatingly moved her right arm toward the blade's handle. Once, twice, finally she mustered up the courage to pull it out. "AH! SHIIIT!..." As she looked at her bleeding arm, she groaned, chucking the blade across the room. "God Damn It! I got blood on a customer's order!!" Tink clambered to her feet, clutching her injured arm in one hand, and picked up the two non-soiled objects from the ground, dusting them off slightly before putting them back in their rightful places. After which, she found the drenched rag she had used to clean herself off with and used it to wipe down the blade. Her face had twisted into a scowl by this point as she cursed at the damned thing, blaming it for her misfortunes. Once she felt it was clean enough, Tink put the knife back beside the other objects and proceeded to press the soiled rag against her wound. She winced. Giving her body about a minute or so to relax and stop panicking, she removed the rag and slowly looked at her wound. She was lucky as it turned out to be rather shallow, the blade having nicked only the outer edge of her inner forearm, and not having landed directly in the center of it. She flinched at the thought. Finding another rag, albeit definitely more dirtied than the other, Tink used it to secure the bloodied rag against her cut in hopes of forcing the bleeding to stop. "Just my luck... Why do these things always seem to happen to me?" She frowned, just happy that no one else had been around to see her pathetic little show. Giving up on any further attempts at cleaning herself off better (seeing as she had no more clean rags, a bloodied arm now caked with dirt and soiled bandages, and no clean clothes within her shop), the girl resentfully exited her shop and entered the mist of the foggy night. She looked around, trying to see if Peter was anywhere in sight, but still couldn't see anyone. "Peter?" She called out to him, hoping he just couldn't see her because of all the fog. It would be nice if he couldn't really see me right now... Her mind wandered, arm throbbing slightly and feelings of embarrassment creeping over her. With everything that had gone on that day, she just hoped she hadn't missed him. She hoped he hadn't given up on her long ago.


The hours had passed by uneventfully for the young man. Mostly spent at a tailor doing measurements and choosing colors and other such nonsensical things related to fashion that Peter had literally no clue about. Obvious really when one looked at him in his "riding" boots and no sleeve sweater with some sickly purple color. It had been a sort of navy blue thing a long time ago but had become stained with both blood and damage. As he left the tailor's he went back to his usual stealing both of things and of young girls' hearts. It could be said the latter wasn't his fault. After all he had no intention of ever being with any of his "marks", never mind the fact he was supposed to just be the one who moved things around. Alas old habits had a way of dying hard or not at all. Well you could say it was a harmless vice for him to make off with a young lady-in-waiting's purse, or you could call him a brigand and a ne'er-do-well; a bane to the well being and quality of life of the quarters. That's what local guards of the rich districts had called him, well minus a few crude adjectives that involved Peter's mother and a few farm animals of various types.

It didn't help that they made a great effort to NOT say such things around the boy, as his temper became volatile when such callous remarks were dropped when he was in earshot. Luckily what he was doing in the interim before meeting Tink didn't angry him. "My pretty thing, when you remove this at night, please think about me." Peter had taken a young woman's necklace in hand and kissed the brooch attached to it, a sort of "love spell". It was a trite maneuver he had been using since he first became a thief, and it never seemed to stop working. "Oh Peter.." The young woman had very clearly fallen for Peter's empty advances. She leaned over for a kiss and closed her eyes obviously hoping for the situation to be romantic. Now was his chance. As he went to return the kiss his hands slipped behind the woman and with a single hand he had secured her purse. It was a short event and he leaned away from the young woman standing from the bench the pair had been sitting at. "Will I ever see you again?" "If you believe hard enough." The girl smiled at the thought of meeting him again, but it was unlikely she actually would see him and even if she did he would deny even knowing her.

It had grown dark and while he would have liked to continue his shenanigans he had a date to get to. Well not exactly a date as much as it was him going to try and rekindle an old friendship. Hopefully this would go well enough for him and he wouldn't get slapped again. He had only been slapped once today, so that was a new record. Hell Tink had a mean slap, but that wasn't very surprising considering she had always been a bit strong, at least for the time he knew her. He could imagine what had happened and it was not something he wanted to think about for the time being. He had very little room to complain compared to her. He had been spared the horrors of the plague by staying near their "Neverland Lake" and avoiding all traces of the civilized world, something they were already doing to be honest. If anything Peter had been lucky to have made it through that ordeal relatively trouble free. It had taken him too long to find her though that much was certain. Ten years. It was an awfully long amount of time for him. Ten years. It was nearly half his life. Deciding not to dwell on it the young man broke into a run to make to where Tink was.

-EVENTUALLY-

A mist had come over the town, a rather eery one as Peter ran towards the blacksmith shop. Eventually it came into view as did the, now sorta clean yet wounded, red head. "Yeah?" He stepped out from the foggy mist to enter her sight. The young man looked a bit concerned as he looked at Tink. She looked terrible, not to mention she was probably exhausted. He had a feeling the blacksmith was probably cross with her for abandoning her post and running after a, lets face it, strange young man that no one had heard of except her and probably wasn't trust worthy in the slightest. In one hand he was tossing, and catching, a bag of coins which he had liberated that day from the people he had "made friends" with earlier. The bag went quickly into his pocket as he approached her and finally got a good look at the sorry state she was in. Exhausted, bloodied and probably not in the mood for anything besides going home. It looked as though she had been there since he had left her and had been run ragged by that blacksmith. She had to put up with that old man and here Peter was empty flirting with various women and running off with their money and their hearts.

"Looks like you got sent through the forge." Peter said, walking over to her with his arms behind his neck to cover that star mark. Tink wasn't the only one who knew that mark and it would be better if people didn't see it. He grinned as he looked at her hoping she would cheer up a bit. He had remembered to come by, which was better than he usually managed to do. It only took him ten years but he remembered to come for her. His thoughts turned to Wendy and what happened to her. Did she survive the plague? Was she alright? Were her brothers alright? He sighed gently as he thought of it before turning his attention back to Tink. She was what was most important right now, not memories of the past that he had run away from. He had run away from many things and maybe back then he had ran away from Tink, only to run into her in the here and now. He wouldn't blame her if she was still mad, even now after their brief reunion earlier. Did she ever think of Wendy? Was she still mad at "his darling Wendy" as Tink sneered a few times?

-SCENARIO ENDS-