“Scalpel.”
“Scalpel.”
“Salve.”
“Salve.”
“Lubricant.”
“…what the fuck?!”
“Get it?! Jelly? For our PB and J.”
You made a retching face and pushed the plate of bread to him. “Forget it, you can have my half.”
“Aha! My plan worked.”
“Whatever. We just went from Scrubs to Grey’s Anatomy.”
“Hey! If we were a movie we’d be a porno!”
“I was talking T.V. series, Tony.”
And if that was all you had to admit to him, wouldn’t that be lovely?
“Are you ever going to tell him?”
“Yeah, no.”
“That’s too bad. You don’t have much time left, do you?”
“Oh is that what we’re going with? Fatal illness?”
“Hey, it’s up to you babe.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I’m sorry, that’s reserved for your boy toy isn’t it?”
“Don’t call him that either.”
“Hey who’s whose boss now?”
“Please. You’d be nowhere without me.”
“Watch it.”
“What are you gonna do, slap me?”
“I just might.”
You blew a raspberry and Tony rubbed the spit off his face with a mock glare. “Tony, you know bitch slaps are my forte.”
“Fine. If you ruin the end of this movie for me, I’ll tickle you to death.”
“Right, like our tickling doesn’t always end up with sex on the carpet.”
“Yelgh!!” Clint shoved you off the couch while Tony cackled pervily.
“I told you not to crash movie night Barton!”
“Lesson learned.”
“By the way, another lesson for you Clint would be always knock. Even if the door is half-open-“
“I’m getting my own Netflix account!!”
Don’t worry Clint; if it’s space you want you’ll have it soon enough.
“I still haven’t punished you for your little quip last night.”
“Considering I distracted the cops while you bolted I’d say we’re even.”
“Still, my employees need an example made of them every so often.”
“Oh is that what I am now? An employee.”
He cleared his throat and you almost rolled your eyes. “Maybe I can think of some discipline that would benefit us both.”
“I’m still sore from yesterday.”
“Yest- oh.” You saw the jealousy flash in his eyes and almost felt sorry for him; if you had the capacity for sympathy.
Or was it empathy? You’d seen the same look flicker in your own when he found a new muse.
Then when she ended up in a ditch a month later, everyone said you’d gotten lucky.
Hah. Luck.
As if that’s how you became a Lost Boy.
“A Disney movie? What are you, five?”
“Leave us alone, Clint, or next time I’m leaving the door open when Tony and I-“
“Got it!!!”
He shimmied into the vents as Nat the Cat gave you an amused look.
You never watched anything more than PG with her. Part of the haunted past and all.
You weren’t used to letting your guard down around women like her. Bred a spy with an effortless quality of femme fatale that she didn’t even have to use.
Well, you guessed you weren’t used to pretending to have a hard time letting your guard down. Or if she saw through that, you weren’t used to pretending to have to pretend to have a hard time letting your guard down around women like her.
But if you are the one weaving the tangled webs around you; does that count as free?
If only Neverland was real.
You’d have crawled there on your knees by now.
“They preach freedom through their front doors, and push you out the back ones with their judgement.”
“Buddhism then?”
“I like their idea of eating a lot.”
“Common misconception.”
“Meh.”
“Allah?”
“Don’t even get me started.”
He let out a laugh that sent shivers down your spines for two contradictory reasons.
“Happily ever after then?”
“Hmm, maybe.”
He cocked his head at you, and you saw the other girl give you a hateful look. Beauty fades, but if you kept your mind sharp, you’d always be a novelty to him.
“You reject all religions but you believe in fairy tales??”
“Do you believe in heaven, Boss?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Well, I don’t. But if there’s nowhere to go when we’re all finished…there’s an endless nothing that could constitute an ever after.
“So nothingness equates happiness for you then?”
You let out a chuckle that sent shivers down his spine this time. Not from attraction or fear of a dangerous individual.
Perhaps then, the realization that you were emptier than him.
“Well then, (y/n), I believe you’re ready to be a Lost Boy.”
“Lost Girl,” the pretty young thing took time from glaring at you to correct him. He had a thing for bossy girls this season.
“I’ll stay a Lost Boy, thank you very much. Believe me, there’s a difference.”
She gave you a confused look, but he nodded in surprised approval. You’d never let him get tired of you.
“So what’s my first mission, Boss?”
“Ah-ah. We’re on first name basis now, aren’t we?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Call me Peter.”
You gave him a cracked smile. “As in Pan?”
“That’s right, baby. Welcome to Neverland.”
“Let’s see what’s on the queue.”
You sighed internally as you scrolled over the screen titles. Tarzan, Mulan, The Jungle Book.
All with an outsider fighting to fit in, when they were born to stand out.
Irony was a cruel mistress.
“How about this one?”
You almost bashed your own head in when you saw what the cursor was hovering over.
“Let’s do Princess and the Frog.”
“Good soundtrack on that one.” She agreed. “Although I do love singing along to ‘We Can Fly.’”
Believe me, it takes more than pixie dust to stay away from Captain Hook.
“Well, well, what do we have here.”
Son of a bitch, the Sheriff from your shithole hometown had made it to New York.
“The infamous (y/n), right hand to the Underground, caught by the man who drove her to the prom.”
“Yeah, I was two hours late because you had to put Frank in the drunk tank and then sober up yourself, so I suppose you’re here to apologize.”
“Your stepmother’s been looking for you.”
“What, she didn’t get the Christmas cards I sent last year?” You had no idea where a nickel and dime cop had learned about your involvement with ‘the Underground,’ but the more pressing concern was the best friend of your unfortunate foster father strutting around arrogantly in front of you.
“I owe you one of hell of an ass-kicking. I was the one who held Marsha’s hand at the funeral you know.”
“Glad you could finally take the affair public then.”
“Shut up.” He sent a kick to your gut and you sprayed blood right in his face. Hey, don’t make someone with internal bleeding cough. “By the time we found Frank coyote’s had eaten off his face.”
“Good thing I carved his name into his stomach for easy identification then. I couldn’t fit his driver’s license ID though-“
You heard a crunch as his fist connected with your nose. This was going to be the third time you had to get it set. Maybe you should’ve chosen Lost Girl instead. But seduction missions weren’t your forte.
Apparently stealth missions weren’t either, though, considering your current predicament.
“Humor me, Sherriff. How did you find me? How did a fat butch from NoWheresVille find the secret hidey hole of the “infamous right hand?’”
“You think you thugs are so special, with your ‘codes of honor?’ Well, there’s a leak, baby. And believe me-“
The rest of his words gurgled as a huge axe split the back of his skull.
“Only I get to call her that.
And by the way, we’re called Neverland.”
“Took you long enough, Boss.”
“What? No Peter? You only call me Boss when you’re upset. And considering I just saved your life-“
“Cut the crap ‘Petey.’ I know you were the leak.”
He put on a mock shocked face, though he really was surprised that you’d guessed so quickly. “Whyever would you accuse me of such, dear (y/n)?”
“I know you’ve been bored lately. Of course it’s safer putting your girl’s life in danger than yours.”
He crossed his arms thoughtfully. “Well I’m glad you’re finally admitting you’re my girl.”
“Don’t get used to it. I want in on the Stark job.”
“Now I know you’ve really gotten into Python lately but we’ve got three hackers-“
“You know what I mean.”
He stared at you unblinkingly. You’d always sworn you’d never do one of those ‘whore missions.’
You matched his expression and time seemed to stand still.
You knew he was torn between being proud as a boss and jealous as a..what? Boyfriend?
Lover?
Would a lover really send the one man dead set on hunting you right to your doorstep?
The only place where he’d promised you you’d never have to carry a weapon?
Maybe love only promised passion, not security.
“Happy 1 month anniversary (y/n)!”
You looked up from the bed bewilderedly as Tony ran in with a balloon.
“Congratulations on your baby boy?”
“Fine, so I got it from a baby shower Nat went to. Whatever, at least I remembered.”
You hid the bashful smile rising on your face by burrowing it under a pillow. “It’s 3 AM Tony.”
“Actually it’s 3 PM.”
“What?!” You bolted up in panic. You’d missed 2 check-ins. Peter would be pissed. “Why didn’t you wake me?!”
“You were so cute snoring your ass off.”
You gave him a pouty glare as you ran across the room picking up your pieces of clothing. Last night had been wild, and evidently way too drunk.
“So I have another gift for you!”
You stuffed one leg in your jeans and tripped on the other. “Oof! Wait do people really celebrate 1-month anniversaries? Because I didn’t exactly get you anything.”
“Yes. Well, I don’t. But kind of because I haven’t had a thing with a girl last more than 2 weeks in the last decade or so.”
Hmm. He and the Boss had more in common than first glance.
“Well, until you.”
He looked around the room casually as you coughed nervously. Playing the player had been easier than expected. Maybe too easy.
You’d never been meant to be the inside girl. You did your business and got the fuck out of there. And the business was usually assassinations, not, you know, fucking.
You must be in over your head. He’d probably caught on. You’d have to go AWOL for a whole year again. Damnit.
“So we’re going for a ride in my suit.”
“What?!”
You stared at him incredulously as he wiggled his wrists and a blur of red and gold flew into the room.
“You always said if anyone ever touched one you’d drop them in the ocean from 90 feet!”
“Happy anniversary, Babe.”
You almost corrected him before you realized Peter wasn’t here to threaten his life.
Plus, he wasn’t calling you baby.
You were his babe.
You felt a funny mixture of warmth and heaviness in your stomach now as you coasted along the coast. This wasn’t right.
He didn’t deserve what was coming.
If you’d slit his throat one of those many nights he’d fallen asleep on your chest, you’d be long gone right now.
But Peter had wanted reconnaissance, not an execution.
He didn’t want to kill him; he wanted to ruin him.
And for a second, the confusion cleared as Tony released you from his arms and you plummeted towards the sea with an open mouth and no audible scream.
“Gotcha!”
You kneed the Boss in the groin and pressed a dagger against his throat as he jumped at you from behind the door.
“Not bad,” he wheezed out.
“Thanks Boss.”
He shook his head, annoyed. “Do I have to keep reminding you?! Peter, Peter, Peter.”
“Why does it matter so much to you?”
“Well I don’t exactly want you screaming ‘Yes Boss!’ when we’re doing it.”
“If I recall correctly, I don’t scream anything.”
“Not when you’re with me, anyway.” He muttered.
You sighed and pushed the greasy hair out of his tired eyes. The mission was taking more out of him than you.
It seemed these days he was more lost than you.
“I thought you weren’t going to watch the tapes anymore.”
“The new Tech guy never catches the full password.”
“Pretty sure Tony doesn’t yell his password when we’re having sex.”
He slammed his open palm on the table, but you didn’t flinch. You had learned early on not to start at every loud noise he made, but lately you couldn’t even remember the fear you used to have for him.
It was only sorrow now.
“There’s a reason you were never a Lost Girl (y/n).”
“Because I’m bad at sex?”
“What? No!”
“Seems like you’re unhappy with how I’m doing. Or what I’m doing.”
He sat down on a chair heavily and motioned you towards him. You raised your eyebrow; the last time you’d sat on his lap one of the mercs had walked in and Peter had him taken down the next evening.
“Come on, (y/n). It feels like you’re so far from me.”
“Only one and a half yards, Pete.”
“Shut up for a second and just let me hold you, okay?”
You looked away uncomfortably and waited for him to make a sarcastic quip to loosen the tension.
Instead, silence reigned.
“I’ve always wanted you, (y/n).”
“I know.”
“But now?
Now, I need you.”
You walked towards him slowly, memorizing the vulnerable look in his face you’d probably never see again.
He pulled you onto him, taking an inhale of your shampoo, perfume, and the smoke that always permeated the two of you.
“If you ever left (y/n), I’d have to kill you.”
“That’s pretty much the law in the circles we run in, Boss.”
“Yeah, I might kill myself too.”
You withdrew from his embrace to regard his face. He wasn’t joking.
“Don’t worry, Peter.
Neverland is home to Lost Boys like me.”
“I can’t believe he dropped you!”
“It’s Tony. What do you expect.”
“Now I know why you didn’t want to watch Peter Pan.”
If only.
You got up to get some more popcorn.
“(Y/n)?”
“Mhm?”
You could hear the calculation in her voice. She knew to ask personal questions when you were also occupied with another task. Easier for you to dodge or answer honestly, whichever you decided upon.
She was a pro.
“Do you ever get tired of running?”
“I never go running. I hate exercise in general.”
“I mean, it seems like you’re always looking over your shoulder.”
“Well Clint likes to scream Taylor Swift into my ears.”
“Fair enough.”
She waited until the microwave finished popping before she spoke again.
“It gets easier.”
“What does?”
“Telling the truth.”
You chuckled and brought the bowl over. “You calling me a liar?”
If Clint was here he’d say ‘I ain’t callin you a truther’ but it was just 2 girls now. Two girls the profession should have chewed up and spit out.
She seemed fine. And you? You might just be okay.
“I mean, letting go of the of the little things. One at a time. Like, maybe your real name.”
“You don’t believe (y/n) is my real name?” You were better at this than you thought.
Maybe that’s why Peter had taken a shining to you.
“I may or may not have put your info through a few databases.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t tell Tony.”
“He probably did it first.”
“He’s pretty smitten.”
You left the bitterness out of your laugh as you stared into your lap self-consciously.
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“Your name?”
“Well (y/n) is actually my real name. I meant I won’t tell Tony you put me in the police scanner if you don’t tell him…
Well I’m pretty smitten too.”
And you really wished you were lying.
She gave you a conspiratorial smile. “Deal. Although I can’t believe you forgave him for dropping you.”
You thought back to free-falling towards the waves, the juxtaposition of panic and calm coursing through you as once again as you marveled at another similarity between the two men you were wooing.
If there was one thing you could count on, it was not being able to count on someone, at least not all the time.
There was peace in being let down; not just confirmation bias, but a constant in your life you’d always look out for.
Then you felt a sharp pain around your waist instead of your back.
“Are you mad?”
“Furious.”
“Okay. But just remember; I’ll always catch you.”
“So, (y/n) it is?”
You nodded. “Although… I suppose once in a while
They call me Wendy.”
“I’m thinking cancer.”
“Hmm?” He looked up from his laptop as you woke up from your nap.
“Or maybe leukemia. Which one goes terminal faster? And more sudden?”
Peter gave you a crooked grin. “Planning your escape?”
“I think we’re pretty much done there.”
“He getting bored of you?”
“Does it matter? Tomorrow I’ll have all the files and you can start on Master Plan B.”
“Aww, don’t feel bad baby. I’ll never get tired of you.”
Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Boss.
“What are you planning on doing with it, anyway? Blackmail?”
“If I wanted money I’d just siphon money out of his offshore accounts.”
“Taking over the world, then?”
“Don’t worry about it. Your part is done. I want you to take a break from missions after this.”
You let out a mirthless chuckle that would not have shook him so before.
“I mean it. This job has taken a lot out of you.”
“You and me both, Peter.”
He got up and took a seat next to you on the bed, stroking your hair.
You’d never get used to these sudden, rare signs of intimate affection.
And it was only a matter of time before he saw them for the weaknesses they really were.
Still, the closeness let you muster a question you’d never asked even yourself before.
“What if we were the good guys, Peter?”
He let out a scoff, and despite everything, you felt your heart drop.
“This is Neverland, Wendy. For the ones the world has spit upon and thrown away. There is no ‘good’ here; we have our own laws and we make our own rules.
This is the only place where one can be truly free.”
And oh, irony was a cruel mistress.
“Rules are meant for breaking, (y/n).”
“I doubt the saying applies to climbing furniture in laser tag, Tony.”
“Psh it applies to everything. I swear on my life!!”
Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Tony.
“What’s up with that look, (y/n)?”
“Nothing.”
“What, are you caught up in some crime syndicate? Oh my God, the Lollipop Guild!!”
You stared into the distance long enough to freak him out, but you knew he’d never handle the news like this.
“(y/n)…”
“I have unpaid parking tickets.”
He looked at you for a moment before bursting out into laughter. “Oh, that. I’ll take care of it.”
“Anthony Stark!!”
“Hey, like I said rules are for breaking!”
“What if you get caught?!”
“Then I’m taking you down with me!”
“You take care of the snitch, Boss?”
He gave you the side-eye, but nodded with a smile.
“They’re getting closer every time.”
“Life in Neverland is always exciting.”
“And what if they finally catch up to you?”
“Well, I love you, My Wendy, but I’m pinning everything on you.”
You shook your head with a genuine laugh, ignoring his first-ever admission and subsequent mortified look. “I’m guessing the loyalty oath we all had to take was one way.”
“Hey, no one made you take anything.” He narrowed his eyes at you.
“Don’t worry Pan, I’m still willing to die keeping your secret.”
“Good. But don’t forget you were the one who agreed. I never forced you to join us.”
“I know, Peter.
Lost Boys like me are free.”
“What happened, (y/n)?”
“I made the biggest mistake a spy could, Natasha.”
“Please, don’t do that full name bullshit. Nothing’s changed.”
“Uh, you’re behind bulletproof glass so-“
“Small detail.”
She was the best in her field. And maybe, since she’d gotten you an interrogation room in a hidden facility, she was also your friend.
“So you turned on your boss?”
“He’d hate to hear you call him that.”
“So Wendy turned on her Peter Pan?”
“Call that my second biggest mistake then.”
She leaned forward, and it reminded you of just earlier today when you’d handed her the dossier and opened up the first page for her. Like she understood; and she was truly sorry. For you.
“I fell in love with him.”
“Should I write down Stockholm’s or was it an actual relationship?”
“No.
I fell in love with Tony.”
She looked down into her lap. She’d seen the pictures and tapes, the surveillance and self-written confession that included evidence only against yourself.
You’d kept your promise, after all.
And somehow still, that one truth was the hardest of all.
You slid the notepad under the partition back to her. “Could you give this to Tony for me?”
“You can talk to him yourself.”
“Pretty sure he doesn’t want to see me.”
“Eh, he’ll get over it.”
You’d miss her. Less than Tony, though. Maybe even less than Peter.
You’d had a good run, you guessed.
But now it was time to grow up.
“Do me a favor?”
“Mhm?”
The murmur was like yours had been before.
“Let him read it first?”
“Of course.”
“And make sure he doesn’t rip it up as soon as he gets it.”
“I’ll make a copy then.”
Dear Tony,
There was a time when I was alone,
Nowhere to go and no place to call home
Then one night I closed my eyes
I saw a shadow flying high
He came to me with the sweetest smile,
told me he wanted to talk for awhile
He said, “Peter Pan, that’s what they call me.
I promise that you’ll never be lonely.”
And ever since that day,
I was a Lost Boy from Neverland.
Usually hanging out with Peter Pan, when we were bored we played in the woods.
Always on the run from Captain Hook.
“Run, run, Lost Boy.” They’d say to me.
“Away from all of reality.”
Neverland was home to me, for I was a Lost Boy. And they said Lost Boys were free.
Right now you’re probably thinking why I wasn’t a Lost Girl. That’s not important but I might as well tell you. Long story short, I didn’t do the whoring around that everyone else did. When I met you, well, you were my first.
Don’t snicker, I don’t mean it like that. I also had to fuck my boss too.
There. Feel bad?
It’s okay, you can go back to being mad now. I deserve it.
I wish I could apologize for running recon on you, but I don’t have much capacity for, well, anything really.
It was my job.
I was a Lost Boy.
If they said pull the trigger, I’d ask where to point the gun.
If they said get his prints, I’d ask if they wanted his hand instead.
You could read my file, but it wouldn’t tell you everything you needed to know. There were a lot of things I didn’t even know.
I didn’t know I could feel guilty.
I didn’t know I could feel broken, at least on the inside.
I didn’t know I’d ever find love.
But then I met you.
When I smiled with you, it was a real smile.
And yes, when I yelled during sex you were just that good.
I know you might never forgive me, and that’s your right.
I know it’s selfish to say this, but I don’t care.
These past few months I was happier than I ever believed I would be.
If I had to do it again all over I would.
I’m no Wendy.
I’m a Lost Boy.
I’ve been a Lost Boy for so long, long after the pixie dust faded and Neverland was just dingy basements and a string of faces that I’d either forget or have to get rid of. Now Captain Hook is dead and I’ve run away from Peter Pan.
Nat was right. I can’t keep running.
I hope eventually you will remember me not only as the Lost Boy, the one who almost destroyed you, the one who secretly recorded you, but as the Lost Boy who loved you, the one who never had to act around you because everything was real for her. The Lost Boy who gave up everything she had and was to keep you safe.
But now, I’m tired of being a Lost Boy. I’m tired. Maybe now I can be Wendy, and go back home to sleep. Maybe I’ll even see you in my dreams.
The thing is, Lost Boy’s are meant to be free. But now I realize that there’s no freedom in this world. Not in those warehouses, and not in this cell. I took Peter Pan’s hand, but as high as we flew, I never felt as free as when we were gliding just the two of us over the water.
Even when you let go.
Now it’s time to let me go, Tony. And if you can’t forgive me for lying to you, I hope you can at least forgive me for this.
Tell Nat it’s not her fault she didn’t check my teeth.
Neverland is home to lost boys like me, and lost boys like me are free.
And maybe when all this is over, I’ll see you there too.
Love,
The Lost Boy
Wendy
(Y/n)