When the doctor came out telling us it was alright for us to visit him, Leo didn't bother waking my sleeping body up. He knew how long we'd been awake, and it was almost a crime to wake me up. Instead, the boy went by himself. I guess he thought it'd be good for him to see Peter first. The door was barely open—just for Leo to see what damage had been done. Peter was limply lying on the bed. He looked dead but awake. His leg was wrapped in a thick white cast. The room was bleak, lifeless and unsuitable for Peter Pan. I was glad that I didn't have to see any of that. The boy was always upbeat. I'd never seen him at a grey moment.

Leo definitely hadn't. He walked in, expecting the lack of movement to be the cause of Peter Pan sleeping. He heard a phone beep and saw Peter's on the side table. It showed previous messages I wrote for when he woke up. Leo picked up the phone and read the first one.

"Can you get that for me?" croaked a voice. Leo turned around and noticed Peter's heavy eyes lift open. His blonde hair was haywire. The boy's skin was as white as the room, and he looked sick.

"You look terrible." A groggy chuckle emitted from Peter Pan.

"Thanks," he moaned.

He tossed the phone onto Peter's lap.

"She's been texting you like crazy since we heard about this." Peter sat up a bit and read the texts quickly. He groaned and set aside the phone.

"Wendy's killing me." I tried to keep my emotions clear at the moment. He needed to be self-assured.

"Darcy's been waiting for you all night. She's out there asleep. She wanted to see you first but…you know." Peter ran a hand through his hair and looked around the dark, motionless room.

"What about you? Why're you here?"

"I needed to talk to you," Leo remarked, digging his hands in his pockets.

"Shoot," commented Peter Pan. Leo reached to scratch the back of his neck. He didn't exactly know how to talk to Peter without saying something wrong that would start an argument between the two.

"It's about her." 

Peter flinched at her. "Darcy?" Leo nodded quickly, rocking on his heels.

"I thought you should know that when you leave, when you're out of her life, you won't have to worry about anyone back here. I'm gonna propose to her."

The silence that swept over the room was absolutely defeating. Peter chocked on his words.

"Propose? You want to marry her?" Peter murmured.

Leo was just as nervous about it than anyone would be. They'd been dating for two years. Leo knew there was so much to get worked out. He was going to get a job somewhere promising. Where, he didn't know.

"You don't really mean it, do you? She wants to go to college. She can't if marriage is her way." Leo's attitude took a turn for the worst.

"I do. She can still go to college and write like she's wanted to, but Darcy's going to be fine when you're gone." A smirk caressed Peter's lips.

"This isn't about Darcy, is it? It's about me leaving."

Leo stood emotionless. The silence insisted for Peter Pan to proceed.

"You can't make this out like I'm the bad guy, Leo. I've known Darcy much longer than you, and one thing I know for sure is that she hates back-stabbers. We both know if she finds out you're trying to get rid of me, she'll dump your sorry a**," said the bruised boy.

Leo tried to keep his patience in. The only reason he had to hold in his anger was for one reason only. He knew something Peter had been trying to deny since Leo ever met the boy. The two had problems. They were both hard-headed, competitive, and immature in specific ways. That's what made them bickering buddies.

"You're right. You're not the bad guy but neither am I. And this all," Leo remarked, "is not all about you. I want her to have a good life. I don't want her dragged down by you. So, for the time being, please don't do anything stupid."

Peter eyed the other boy and eventually nodded.

"For Wendy,"

"For Wendy."

The sunrise arrived hours later, and I woke up with a jolt. My head was in Leo's lap. He was asleep with his mouth hung open. A smile wormed its way onto my face. The only time he ever looked carefree was when he was sleeping. If that was a good thing, I did not know.

All I knew was that Leo Blanchard needed to smile a little more often.

I climbed out of his grasp and kissed his forehead gingerly. Careful not to wake him, I walked up to the desk to the receptionist who was keeping herself away with a peppermint latte and a yellowed Sudoko book.

"Ma'am," I forced myself to say, "are visiting hours open?"

She nodded, struggling to hold up her heavy eyelids. We all had too much to deal with.

"What room might I find Peter Mayer in?" I asked.

"112 A,"

A spark ran through my body—a sudden energy that I was urged to use. I raced down the hall, passing empty rooms and Kay's room too. I froze at 111 A and tried to keep my cool. Scaring Peter was the last thing I wanted to do.

112 A. I looked inside and saw the boy asleep in the darkness. A ray of early sunlight gleamed through the windows. I looked at Peter, wanting hug him tightly and hit him in the face. I crept inside and walked near his bed. Peter looked terrible. His face was stark white, his lips were a ghastly blush color. I laid my hand on his arm. At least that wasn't dead cold.

I sat on the bed and took his large hand in my tiny one. Out of all the years I'd known him, seeing Peter Pan weak was not something I was used to at all.

"You're so stupid," I muttered under my breath. His eyes flickered like candles, and a dead smile appeared. I lit up his whole face—somewhat brought color, life.

"I wouldn't know. I mean, you haven't already told me twelve times before," he said sarcastically.

I hugged Peter, digging my face in his curly blonde hair. 

"I hate you so much." He chuckled a warm laugh that made me so happy. He was getting better.

"I do too."

Pushing away from him, I let anger take over.

"You wouldn't believe how p***ed I am. You made me cry! You know how much I hate that. You scared me, Peter! I thought something far worse had happened to you." He smirked and shrugged.

"I don't know. This is pretty bad too. I don't have any food. The crap here is like plastic they're expecting me to digest. Hell no." 

I stifled my laugh as best as I could. It was difficult looking at him showing his mettle weakly. That was what he was about, showing his broken courage to anyone who'd listen. Peter was also the boy who used the bravery he could grasp at. He could jump into a big test not a doubt in his mind, make a life-changing decision, oblivious to all hesitation, and let go of the handles of a bike.