A sudden wave of pity struck Gwen. She could not imagine being so blind to the beauty, the truth, and the life of these unreal creatures that had taught and loved her so much.
“Who put you in charge of deciding what's real?” Peter demanded. “Your reality hasn't got any color, any adventure, any spirit in it… it isn't half as real as ours, and if you don't understand that you're destroying it, you must have less brains in your head than the fairies have in their toes.”
“Nothing needs be destroyed that doesn't want to be destroyed,” the CAO promised. “We have systems in place to transition everything into reality. We've had great success relocating other anomalous individuals. We can make Neverland's inhabitants real.”
“You mean ugly,” Peter told him. The CAO had struck a sore spot in Peter's heart. “You can make their existences ugly enough that they count as people in your record books. You can do to them what you did to Tiger Lily—stick them somewhere ugly and sad and make them live in a little corner of your world you wouldn't even like.” A tear rolled down Peter's cheek, but he didn't pay it any attention, so neither did anyone else.
“We're helping,” the CAO insisted. “We're helping everyone who is willing to accept our help. You must understand that you won't be punished or hurt. We'll help all reality-born children acclimate to living with a much more sustainable level of Anomalous Activity.”
“Are you really so numb to think that wouldn't hurt?” Gwen asked him. The short little man didn't even seem to understand where the conflict of interests rested. He kept talking like he thought the logic of his argument couldn't help but convince the young people.
He had no conception of his evil, no understanding of the pain he was inflicting. No wonder Jay had been under the impression this was a simple operation to claim a single tree. The Chief Anomalous Officer himself didn't understand the implications of his mission.
“You're not malevolent, you're just inept,” Gwen announced. Unraveling her feelings as she spoke, she realized the pitiful truth of this man's existence. “You're evil, and its not even out of malice or passion. You're not trying to cheat us out of anything, and yet you're destroying everything. The Never Tree won't be any use to you. You made a deal with a mermaid for it, and she'll make all your efforts worthless. You can't storm into paradise, yank a tree up by the roots and expect it to solve all your real problems. This place is an escape, an ideal, and so what if it isn't real? Even those who will never lay eyes on Neverland need to know it is out here—but you would dissolve it. You want to take something beautiful from the people who made it and mangle it just to squeeze a few drops of profit or technical advancement out of it.”
This seemed to trouble the CAO, but not in any way he could understand. He could follow her words, but the accusation rang too true for his clouded mind to process.
“But we're already ashore,” he defended. “We have our best lawyers, anomaly-trained soldiers, the mermaid woman, and anomalous weapons of our own. We're going to capture the tree and use it to do good things.” He looked sad and confused. The man wore a pathetic expression that matched his pathetic sense of justice.
Peter finally seemed to comprehend the nature of his enemy and the motives behind this assault on his home. No glory or adventure lay in fighting such a pitiable adversary. He sheathed his dagger. Looking at the unfortunate man, he told him, “I would run you through for what you've done—but it would be a dishonor to my dagger.”
He took Gwen's hand, and squeezed it to tell her, let's go.
The CAO watched them go, unequipped to stop them—unequipped to do anything. His reinforcements had never been called and had never arrived. As Peter and Gwen ran out the door, he could only muster a squeak of a shout, “Captain, stop them!”
Jay was already in pursuit though, and followed them out to the deck. “Wait, Gwen!” he called.
The wind on the deck almost blew his words away before they could reach her ears. She jerked out of Peter's hold long enough to address him. “I've got to do my best to save Neverland, Jay. If you came here for me, it's my fault this is even happening. I need to fix this.”
“I'm sorry,” Jay apologized before reminding her, “You promised you would come back.”
She nodded, and told him, “Someday.”
She was not done with Neverland. Even her shadow came with her, its reluctant darkness clinging to her again, even if it did mirror her motions with sluggish contempt for her decisions. Although she suspected someday would come far too soon, she had to keep fighting for her dreams and ideals until the last moment she had in this paradise.
If she'd been thinking, she probably would have given him a kiss goodbye, but Gwen had greater thoughts on her mind, outweighing the romantic flutters that tickled her heart in less pressing moments. Peter waited for her, crouching on the edge of the deck's metal railing. She took a running leap over the rail and flying with uncorrectable confidence beside the deck so that Peter could climb onto her back. Flying shouldn't have been possible anyways—what did it matter whether she had to fly with her weight alone or Peter's too? He wrapped his arms around her and used his unsteady flight to at least partially support his own weight. They made the motion seem so seamless, it felt practiced. With simple efficiency, they started for shore.
Jay chased after her, but could go no farther than the edge of the deck. Bound by gravity, Jay could not evade his contract with reality. Sometime in the past few years
