Awkward Situations

Neusuada: So! This is not the one-shot that Ashe wanted me to write, but I'm writing that one while I write this. I'll probably never write that one, actually. Anyway! A friend (And reviewer) had three ideas for me and somehow I managed to convert them into one story! I changed it somewhat when I had an idea halfway through it, but the general idea's still the same. This story takes place sometime in the four years Henry was with the Lost Boys in my other story Our Little Secret. Let's just say that Henry's about… fourteen in this one? Yeah, that sounds good.

Ashe: Thanks for the ideas XxXSmiles101XxX!

Neusuada: Thanks indeed! I have no idea what to say next… Ashe?

Ashe: Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe! "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!"

Neusuada: Alright, Ashe, that's good-

Ashe: He took his vorpal sword in hand, long time the manxome foe he sought! So rested he by the Tumtum tree, and stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!

Neusuada: Really, Ashe, that's-

Ashe: One, two! One, two! And through and through, the vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head, he went galumphing back. 'And, has thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!' he chortled in his joy.

Neusuada: Ashe, seriously-

Ashe: Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wabe, all mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe…

Neusuada: Are you done? You're done. Who didn't read that? Heh. Alright, well, we don't own Once Upon A Time. Enjoy the-

Ashe: WABE!

It was dark on Neverland when Pan was walking around the perimeter of the camp. Felix was out somewhere being Felix and the Lost Boys had all gone to sleep, so Peter thought that he'd best check to make sure no one was planning on attacking in the middle of the night by hiding in a bush. Pan was almost done when he suddenly heard a pained whimper coming from behind him. He turned on his heel only to see Henry sitting on the log he had claimed his. The boy seemed to be clutching his arm as if he were in pain and if Peter looked closer, he could see the boy shaking with silent sobs. The only thing visible to him from where he was standing was a small bruise on his neck… Peter had been out the whole day, so whatever happened to the boy was lost on him.

"Henry?" he asked softly.

Said boy jumped when Peter spoke to him, but he didn't do anything else to signal that he had even heard him. Pan sighed, stepping in front of the boy and kneeling down to look at him. The leader of the Lost Boys first realized that something was truly wrong when Henry wouldn't –Couldn't– meet his eyes. He noticed the red second, barely managing to keep the panic down when he realized that that was the reason Henry was crying. He was hurt. And pretty badly so… Peter kneeled down and grabbed the boy's arm in his hands, ignoring Henry's shout of pain and shock, and pulled his sleeve up, examining the deep cuts that ran all along the length of his arm.

"Who did this?" he asked, lightly touching his fingertips to the wounds.

Henry hissed in pain, trying to pull his arm away, but to no avail.

"Who?!" Pan repeated.

"No one!" Henry hissed at him.

"So you did it to yourself?" Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

"What if I did?"

"You wouldn't be crying if you had done this," he stated.

"Maybe I did this, then was crying about how much I hate it here," Henry countered.

Pan sighed, slowly getting to work on healing the boy's wounds. "Who are you trying to protect, Henry?"

"Nobody!"

Peter growled low in his throat. He was getting sick of this… He didn't want to have to resort to this, but he didn't see any other way of getting Henry to tell him who did this to him… Pan stopped healing the boy, instead grabbing his arm forcibly where one of his deeper wounds was.

"Who did this to you, Henry?!"

Henry cried out in pain, trying to pull his arm away which only made Peter grip him tighter.

"S-Stop…" Henry begged him, the pain in his cuts dulling due to the new pain Pan was causing him. "You're hurting me…"

Peter nearly felt his heart break when the Truest Believer let new tears fall down his cheeks. He was causing this… And it killed him… But he had to know who had wounded his precious Henry. Pan nearly let go of the boy in the shock of what he had just thought. Since when was the Truest Believer precious to him? And since when was Henry 'his'?

Peter tightened his grip even more, watching the boy whimper in pain.

"Please…"

"Who hurt you, Henry?" Pan asked sternly.

"Y-You're the only one h-hurting me right n-now…"

Peter sighed in exasperation like he didn't hate doing this to the boy. "I meant, who cut you?"

When Henry didn't answer, Pan tightened his grip further, his eyes filling with sadness when he felt the bone start to crack. He could see the boy clench his jaw and squeeze his eyes shut to avoid shouting in agony.

"I'll stop if you tell me."

"Mathew!" Henry finally shouted when the grip on his arm tightened once more, becoming unbearable. "It was Mathew!"

Mathew was a blonde haired, brown eyed Lost Boy with love of knives and a horrible temper, so it wasn't all that shocking to Pan when Henry said his name, but his blood boiled none-the-less. Peter let go of the boy immediately, watching how he fell off the log in an attempt to put distance between himself and Pan, cradling his slashed and broken arm. Peter stood up, looking sadly at Henry when he backed up in fear.

"I'm sorry," he said with rare sincerity. "But I needed you to tell me, Henry."

The Truest Believer narrowed his eyes in uncertainty. "Why do you care?"

Pan was taken aback by this question. "What do you mean?"

"I meant what I said; why do you care who hurt me? Or even if I've been hurt?"

"I've always cared about you, Henry! That's why I brought you here in the first place!"

Henry scoffed. "Right… You only brought me here to continue growing your army of Lost Boys. I wasn't lost, Pan! I loved my family!"

Peter's eyes widened. "You… You said 'wasn't'… and 'loved'… Both are past-tense…"

Henry glared at him. "I can't exactly say 'love' can I? I'm not with them right now…"

"You still said that you weren't lost… That implies that you are now…" he said, looking at the boy intently.

Henry didn't answer; he only looked away. Pan was about to say something until the younger boy spoke again.

"I didn't do anything wrong… Just so you know… I only told him that I didn't want to join in with his definition of fun… Throwing knives at trees, hunting, or sparring with the other boys… I just wasn't in the mood, but he thought I was insulting him… He pulled me into the woods, pinned me to a tree, and stared cutting me… He told me he'd kill me if I told you…"

Peter sighed. "You didn't need to tell me that… I won't let him hurt you anymore, Henry. That's a promise."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Well, you don't," Pan said, holding out his hand to the boy. "So I guess you'll just have to trust me…"

Henry eyed the hand held out to him like it would explode at any second. Slowly realizing that Peter didn't intend to hurt him again, he cautiously took the older boy's hand and allowed himself to be pulled back to the log again where Pan started softly sliding his hand over Henry's arm, healing him again. After the cuts, broken bone, and the large bruise Pan had created had faded to smooth skin again, Peter looked up at the boy from his kneeling position.

"Anywhere else?"

Henry's cheeks immediately turned red, trying to cover the small slices in his shirt with his hand as he shook his head and suddenly seemed to realize that the ground underneath his feet was so absolutely stunning that he couldn't stop staring at its beautiful mosaic of sticks and gorgeous brown dirt.

"Henry take your shirt off."

"What?!"

"Take your shirt off," Peter commanded again.

"Wha-?! Why?!"

"Well, your chest is cut too, isn't it?"

Henry coughed awkwardly, his voice going up a few octaves."Psh, what? Why would you think that...?!"

"Because, the front of your shirt has slashes in it and blood on it… I can guess. Besides, I can't heal you as well through your clothes."

Henry sighed in defeat, slowly unbuttoning the front of the checkered shirt. "F-Fine…"

For a boy who was only about fourteen, Henry was pretty fit, Peter commented offhandedly to himself. His skin was milky and pale without a blemish on it – aside from the various wounds in it, of course – and he was thinner than Pan had originally thought. The shirt Henry was wearing had been giving the illusion that the boy wasn't so… malnourished…

"Henry, have you been eating?"

Said boy sighed, avoiding Pan's gaze. "Not really…"

"Why not?"

"Aren't you supposed to heal me before I die of blood loss or something?" he interjected.

Peter sighed, letting the matter go for now, though both boys knew that the topic would be returned to. Pan gulped quietly, lifting his hands off Henry's now healed arm and hesitating for a second, before gently setting them on the boy's uncovered chest. Peter felt his control slip a bit when the Truest Believer gasped at the contrast of Pan's cold hands on his warm skin. Slowly, very slowly, the leader of Neverland began healing the boy, gently moving his hands across his chest.

Peter watched with quickening breath as Henry's eyes became glazed with something close to lust. Luckily, Pan was nearly done healing the boy. There was just one more cut and it was… right above the waistline of his pants… The world must've hated him tonight. Taking in a shaky breath, Peter dropped his hands lower, barely letting his fingers touch the band of the blue jeans, the tips of a few of his fingers accidently slipping under it.

Henry gasped, but didn't do anything to stop him, instead just clenching his hands against the rough wood he was seated on. "W-What are you doing?"

'He's barely fourteen,' Peter reminded himself.

The leader of the Lost Boys healed the Truest Believer quickly, making him wince slightly when his skin was rejoined too fast, before he put his hands back on the boy's chest, pushing him backwards off the log and onto the dirt behind him, much to Henry's surprise.

Peter stood up, feeling like he was forgetting something but shrugging it off as he started to speed-walk away. "Well, you're healed. See you tomorrow, Henry."

Henry stood up as well, running after the teenager. "Hey, wait!"

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion…

The boy made the mistake of grabbing Pan's wrist and pulling him backwards, not seeing the rock stuck in the ground until after Peter tripped on it… and fell on top of him… Pan's hands somehow managed to pin Henry's up by his head, while one of the older boy's knees ended up in-between the younger's legs. Both boys immediatly blushed, but did nothing to move out of the position for they were both too busy staring at each other with wide eyes. Once Henry finally realized where Peter's knee was, he felt his face get even hotter. That was made worse when Pan shifted his weight, causing the boy underneath him to gasp sharply and slam his eyes shut. Peter was the first to realize that Henry's shirt was still open and his clouded mind was going to do something to take advantage of that…

...But then Felix chose to come into the clearing. The lieutenant's mouth dropped open a bit when he saw the scene in front of him. A smirk then came over his scarred features when the thing that Pan had forgotten was finally remembered; the bruise on Henry's neck. All Felix saw was Peter on top of the open-shirted Henry, both of them panting from the quick rush of lust, and a bruise on Henry's neck that could be taken many different ways…

"I'll just…" Felix finally spoke, pointing behind him while his smirk grew bigger. "I think I forgot something… You two finish up here…"

When Felix walked back through the bushes, the two boys finally broke out of their stupor, Peter jumping off Henry and running after his scarred lieutenant. Just before Pan, too, disappeared into the forest, he looked back at the boy who was still on the ground.

"That never happened!" he hissed, before Henry was left alone.

Henry lazily buttoned his shirt back up, not bothering to move from his spot on the beautiful mosaic dirt. The Truest Believer sighed, saying something that he had never said before in his life.

"What the Hell just happened?"

Neusuada: Done! Wow… This was originally a K+ rated story… Guess not anymore…

Ashe: Did you guys know that in the original Alice in Wonderland, Alice was a boy? Kind of. In the poem she was a boy. I think.

Neusuada: …Thanks for that random information, Ashe…

Ashe: No problem! Well, review please!

Neusuada: But if you're gonna be mean, please don't flame. If you don't like the couple, you shouldn't have read the story. Review!