#petara

Peter watched as Michael twirled in the tall wheat grass, smoking a cigarette between his lips and threading tiny white clovers into a crown. The younger boy spread his arms as he spun, throwing his brunette head back in laughter before casting a look at his brother. 

"Having fun?" Peter chuckled, removing his cigarette from his lips and holding it between his fingers. Michael nodded enthusiastically, bending down to caress the petals of a daisy that craned its face towards the brilliant sun. "This campus is pretty nice, I guess." 

And it was. Walt sat squat on the coast of France. The old brick building towered high into the blue skies, surrounded by thick green fields where the students could hang out. To Peter, it looked like the perfect place for a sesh or a party, or possibly even some lovemaking. 

Peter lifted his head up from his observations, his fingers returning his cigarette to his mouth and expertly finishing off his crown. He placed the woven flowers atop his ginger curls. The action made him think momentarily of Wendy, and his heart ached with how much he missed her, that he was here at this dumb school with out his best friend. He shook off the thought; it was better for her that he'd left. He righted his train of thought and grinned at Michael, who grinned back with his dimpled smile. Then, the boy took off running.

"Michael!" Peter shouted, standing up as well. His younger brother looked back at him, beckoning him into the chase. Peter huffed out his name again, amusement clear in his voice. "Michael!"

Peter had no idea that this would be where he ended up that day. It had started out completely normal, well, as normal as days were in the Pan household. He'd woke up to his father and his soon-to-be stepmother looming over his bed. 

"What the hell!?" he'd exclaimed.

"We just wanted to say Happy Birthday, Peter," Elizabeth smiled at him.

"So, Happy Birthday." Richard grinned and reached to ruffle his son's hair. Peter resisted the urge to swat away his hand. "Come downstairs, Pete. We made you breakfast." And then they left. Peter obliged, padding down the stairs in his pjs, and was greeted with a feast of eggs, pancakes and bacon. He thanked his parents, a huge grin spreading over his face. 

"And here," Richard handed him a small box wrapped in blue paper. Peter raised a brow. "You didn't have to get me any-"

"Shut up and open it." Richard had a giddy smile plastered to his face, so, once again, Peter obeyed. Inside was a brand new iPod, the latest model of touch screen. 

"Oh, wow! Thanks, dad, Elizabeth." Peter grinned at them. His old iPod had stopped working weeks before, and he'd been nearly going crazy with out his music.

~

Peter was playing guitar in his room, laying across his bed and gently plucking the strings. He smiled when Jude cooed from her crib. She always liked when he played for her. He was just about to stand to put his guitar away when his door burst open. He jolted up, letting out a small yelp as the dark-clothed figures tossed a burlap sac over Peter's head.

He let out a string of curses, flailing his limbs in an attempt to cast the three men off. Then, his arms were grabbed and restrained and he was shoved out the door and down the stairs. Outside and into a car. Once the door was slammed shut, the men burst into laughter and Peter recognized them. 

The sac was stripped from his head and he glared daggers at his friends. "What the fuck guys!?" He lashed out his foot to kick Danny in the shin.

"Ow! Man! Come on. We're taking you out. You would have said no if we'd just told you!" 

Peter struggled against the restraints binding his wrists behind his back. "Where the hell are we going?"

Cole cackled from the driver's seat. "You'll just have to wait and see!"

Peter slumped back, frowning defiantly at his friends. They obviously weren't going to let him leave, so, there was no point in fighting. 

Cole stopped the car a while later, hopping from the driver's seat and disappearing beyond the car's door. Peter grumbled as Danny and Vince pulled him from his seat. Cole was bouncing up and down like he was going to wet himself, and the other two were grinning up a storm. 

"What are you idiots smilin' about?" Peter demanded, kicking Danny in the shin again. Vince chuckled at pointed up at the neon sign. "Are you fucking serious?"

Dear Meg, 

I think my mind is playing tricks on me. Everywhere I turn, there you are. I'll see your dark chocolate tresses out of the corner of my mind, but, when I turn around its just some girl who's hair isn't nearly as beautiful as yours. The wind sounds like your laugh. I can smell you on all my shirts. I think I might be going insane with out you by my side.

I've been trying to write a song, but so far I only have a few chords and the dregs of a melody. The words haven't come to me yet.

I wish I was there in Greece with you. Sleeping in a Gypsy wagon and partying every night. Sounds like the best thing ever. My mother would have loved you, too, Meg. I bet, up there, they are together and talk about us constantly. They met at the same moment we did, brought together by fate and tied to one another by a red string. 

I'm not going to deprive Tinkerbell of her rights to see her daughter; if she ever wants to come see her. 

Damn.

Jude just woke up from her nap, I had better go.

I'll write again soon. 

I miss you and I love you, too.

Yours always,