The Lost Boy [ A Larry Stylinson/Peter Pan AU ]

London hadn't been anything like I expected at all.
Well at least not the musty smelling side I was sent to. When Grandma Jane had told me my uncle was loaded, I had assumed he was wealthy, and lived in a good part of town.
I was never before more wrong in my life.
After the funeral I went silently back to our neighbor's house for the night, because she was the one taking care of me at the moment.
When I had arrived at home though my fingers slipped on the sovereignty of my emotions, and I had a break down that my body had building up to the whole week.
During the time lapse of my disintegrate, I secluded myself to my temporary chambers upstairs until I could get my tears, and sharp breaths under control.
With in time I did manage to stop the hot tears from escaping my eyes, and I went back downstairs to nibble on my dinner by the request of my neighbor who was fretful over my health that seemed to have a decrease in the past few days.
I wasn't ill anymore with the high fever I had obtained the day my parents left, but I was taken with mental sickness over grief as she put it. During the awkwardly silent meal my Grandma Jane had called, and informed me I was to take part to my uncle's tomorrow morning on the first train.
With in five minutes after the call I had finished a quater of my meal, and was excused to go pack my stuff for my trip tomorrow. I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous to go live with a stranger, whether they be relatives or not.
Never before had I met this Uncle Corrin or my Aunt Fay, but I did remember my dad mentioning his half brother Corrin who much older then he. Yet with that being said I wasn't even sure what these relatives looked like, so I could only hope they were nice, and would make me feel at home.
For the rest of the day I moved slowly around my house gathering not only my things, but stuff that was sentimentle to my deceased family. An old fashion pipe my dad loved to smoke, my mum's favorite scarf, and Gemma's journal that had been under her tape player which I also grabbed.
When I had found the book I couldn't help but feel like I had been punched because me and her had spent hours upon hours arguing over how I wasn't aloud to touch it.
Now though I felt like it would be okay, because her journal was the closest thing I had to her voice, the nearest I'd ever get to her thoughts. Besides these valuables I couldn't part with; I had packed up my clothes, books, shoes, basically anything I could fit into my baggage.
When my bags were full to the point of bursting I dragged them out of my house, blowing my home a kiss goodbye, then went back to my neighbors house.
Now, present time I was stepping off the train with a thin layer of soot covering my exposed skin, and clothes because I had ridden in the worst class seat I could've possible sat in.
The train station wasn't all that crowded, there were a couple of families that I looked away from, a few buisness men lugging around suitcases, a stray dog, and the chubby conductor who was calling out instructions while waving everyone off the train that was meant to get off this stop.
During the ride I did feel a bit of excitement, which made me feel a little better, but it was soon killed when the grand libraries, and some of the largest buildings I had ever seen faded into run down towns, and factories.
Glancing around the train station for anyone that fit the description in my head of my aunt or uncle, I was met with another disappointment when I didn't see them anywhere.
Sighing softly, and brushing off my coat I made my way's over to the nearest bench then took a seat as I rested my bags at my feet.
It was a cold morning, with the occasional light drizzle of rain, so before I had left with my neighbor, to be driven to the train station, I had made sure to bundle up my thinning frame in my dad's coat, prior to wrapping my mum's scarf around my neck.
Wearing my parents clothes brought a sort of comfort, because even though that hadn't been worn in a week they still smelled like them. It was bitter sad though the clothes were never meant to be worn again.
With that thought I felt myself sink deeper into a pit of depression as I fiddled with the gloves on my hand. The side of London the train had brought me to was far from glamorious, or fine. At least what I saw from my window was far from it.
It seemed as if I was being exhiled to the worst part of the city, a part of the city the conductor had told someone sitting behind me had still contained fallen buildings from bombs dropped there in the world war fifty years ago.
A war my grandmother had been just a child during, no more then ten. In a way it would be sort of cool to see those fallen buildings, because I could get a feel for what my grandmother went through, and maybe see a ghost or two.
When I went to my old school, a place I ached for in the moment because I had alot of good friends, me and my mates would tease each other in dark rooms during sleep overs about ghosts, and stuff. We even attempted to scare my sister, and her friends a few times.
"You, boy. Are you Harold Styles?" I then heard a man's extensive voice slur, tearing me away from the drift into my memories, and I looked up to see a guy that bore little to no resemblance to my father.
Unlike my dad he had blue eyes that were big like owl eyes. On his chin rested a greying brown beard that had crumbs resting inbetween the hairs. His head was completely bald, and glinted in the sun. On his upper lip an half shaved mustache rested that made him resemble a pirate in way.
Then overall, he was skinny. Unlike my dad who was plump like your typical dad, but not in a sloppy way. Just in my wife can cook good kind of way.
"That's me." I said, barely above a whisper as he gave me a smile that made me shift uncomfortably. "Good. I've been looking for you." He said, gesturing for me to get up, which I did. I would be lying if I said this man didn't intimidate me greatly.
He was only a little bit taller then me though, about a good three to four inches, but he still look scary.
Instantly I began to wish my grandmother had taken me in.
"Grab your baggage." He said, his tone staying the same, but I could sense the demand behind it. Nodding slowly I bent down, and retrieved my bags as he gave me a once over with a nod of approval.
"Follow me." He said, running his hand over his head as if there was hair there, and he turned on the muddy heel of his boot before he starting walking. Chewing my lip softly I followed behind him timidly like a dog.
For someone who was loaded he sure didn't dress like it.
His black sweater was obviously on the verdge of falling apart, his dress pants had a hole above the knee, and his black boots were caked in mud.
Then I decided I didn't like him at all. Not only was he poorly dressed, and looked creepy but he smelled like alcohol which made me fear he was a drunk. That would explain why he had slurred when he first addressed me.
For a bit we just walked through the train station in silence, occasionally interupted by him coughing into his sleeve, or someone chatting with a friend or family member. Soon though we walked through the gates of the station, and out to the parking lot where an Audi 5000 was parked.
I had to admit, not even my parents could afford such a nice car. "You look like you found a shitty rainbow, ain't you ever seen a car?" My uncle sneered, my curious expression evidently being taken the wrong way.
"Yes sir." I said, seeing no point in arguing with him on his rude statement. "Well then stop bulging yer eyes." He grumbled, grabbing me by the material of my jacket to pull me into stride with him so we'd move a little faster.
I was begining to see why my parents never brought me and Gemma here for the holidays. When we approached the car I saw a woman sitting inside looking in a small hand mirror, one that she put down when she caught sight of us, so she could get out.
"Is that Robin's kid?" She called out, opening her door so she could step out. "Damn right it is woman." He said in response, letting go of my jacket so I could walk by myself.
"Let me see him." She said, slipping out from behind the door, and closing it as she walked the last few steps over to us. "Stand still." She told me, making me stop in my tracks by gripping my shoulder, and I tried to remain frozen as she looked me over the same way he had.
"He's a good looker, but ain't much more. A little small." She said, nodding in approval though as well before she stepped away from me.
My aunt now was a different story. She had pin straight blonde hair that fell past her shoulders, sharp blue eyes that made me feel like I did something wrong, and she was all decked out in fur shawls, and a grand dress that flowed down to her ankles.
She indefinately looked loaded. Once she had finished looking me over my uncle Corrin, who I was just going to call Corrin now, grabbed me by my shirt again and began to pull me back over to the car with them.
"You can sit in the back, and don't go ruining the seats." Corrin said, sneering a bit at me as he finally let go of my shirt, and walked over to the driver side.
I was begining to get the impression he wasn't very impressed with me, but really I didn't care much because I wasn't all that impressed with him either. Biting my lip slightly harder I opened the door, and tossed my bags in before climbing into the back seat, and buckling up.
During the whole ride the both of them whispered back, and forth to each other while I looked out the window, not caring much that they were ignoring me.
It wasn't fair, why couldn't they just be friendly, and loving like my parents?
I almost felt angry at my Grandma Jane, because it was far from fair that I had to be here with them when I could be there with her baking in her cinnemon smelling kitchen, while begging her to tell me stories about our deceased family members who all had interesting stories.
But no! Now I was about to go live with these two who already seemed to hate my guts, and my uncle made me nervous. I think the only good thing I was getting out of this was the oppetunity to go to a good school so I could make it on my own when I was eighteen.
Yet until those glory days came I supposed I'd have to put up with these two people I already hated. Sitting back in my sit while resting one bag on my feet, and another on my seat I looked out the window as I pursed my lips in silence.
It was begining to rain again, which entertained me a bit for I could make quiet bets with myself about which rain drop was going to win when they raced.
To some people it was a strange way to find entertainment for one's self, but for me it was all I needed to protect my mind from wandering into a battle feild of horrible pain.
Occasionally though I would listen into their quiet conversation, but could only hear the occasional short word or my name which gave me the impression they were discussing me. I was begining to wonder if they even liked kids.
Finally Fay directed her attention me, which meant I still existed I supposed.
"How old are you?'' She asked twisting around in her seat to look at me, and I shrugged. "Sixteen Mam'." I informed, my voice still soft, and she nodded as she then gave me a warm smile that made me relax a little but I was still wary of them both.
"And what is your full name? Do you have any nicknames?" She inquired, biting a perfectly red stained lip, and I sat up a little straighter.
"Harold Edward Styles, but everyone calls me Harry." I informed, and she nodded before smacking her husbands shoulder. "See! I told you he wasn't mute, he's just shy." She said, giving him a dirty look, and I felt a tiny smile tug at my lips but it quickly faded with her next words.
"Since we're stuck with you for the next two years now, I'm going to lay down some rules. Rule number one; when I speak to you always respond to me immediately. No mumbling, no whispering, nothing! I want your voice to be clear, and words to be understandable am I clear?" She asked, a stern look appearing on her face, and I nodded as I slumped a bit in my seat.
For the tiniest moment there I thought she was going to be nice, but she became nasty in less then a moment.
"Yes Mam'." I repeated, swallowing an appearing lump in my throat, and she gave me a sharp nod. "Good. We'll lay down the rest of the rules once your settled in your room." She said, just as we pulled up the driveway of a house that was much more appealing then I had expected.
The neighborhood was a nice one, the yards were clean, the house in shapes, and I didn't see anything that indicated the area was dangerous. Of course it wasn't as nice as the homes I had seen when driver through the more sofisticated part of London, but this was nice to.
Yet there seemed to be a bit of a gloomy appearance to in a way, everything look a bit despressive in the light rain, which didn't better my mood.
"C'mon boy, get out." Corrin ordered, turning off the car, and I nodded quickly as I opened my door then slid out into the chilly air with the bags in my hands. The house was a sight I'd tell you that much.
It was one of the whitest houses I had ever seen, and definatley stood out from the other houses in the neighborhood. It was a gigantic two story house that was in perfect condition.
The paint looked new, not a single shingle was loose, the window's were gleaming in the rain, and the front yard was mowed, and the bushes clipped. It definately looked like someone wealthy lived there.
My Uncle definately didn't fit the description of wealthy though.
"C'mon lad." Fay urdged, a bit of annoyance in her tone, and I nodded slowly as I followed them up the long driveway, and to the front door.
Once the three of us were crowded at the porch, finally shelter from the rain that had made the soot slip of my face, Corrin pulled out a silver key, and unlocked the door with a shakey hand before kicking the door open.
I would be lying if I said the inside wasn't as nice as the outside. Yes it wasn't as fancy as the stuff you see on tv, but it was well furnished with beautiful furniture, and decor that littered the walls and end tables.
"I'm going into the cellar for a drink." Corrin mumbled, leaning into his wife for a moment to whisper something, and she nodded before he parted ways leaving me and her alone in the living room.
"Well since he's doing that I might as well show you to your room, and lay down the rest of the rules." Fay sighed, slipped off her shoes, and pushing them up against the wall before gesturing me to follow her.
"C'mon." She said, wrapping the shawls tighter around her shoulders, then walking across the fine carpet of the living room in the direction of the nearby stairs that looked freshly polished. "Is my room upstairs?" I asked, walking around the carpet, and meeting her at the bottom of the stairs.
"Of course. Unless your use to sleeping in the kitchen." She scoffed, seeming insulted by my innocent question, but not nearly as insulted as I was that she had insult my parents. If she kept doing that it was going to be really hard to hold my peace.
"Yes, how silly of me." I said quietly, biting my lip again, and she gave me another one of her sharp nods before begining the walk up the stairs with me lugging my bags behind her.
I found it a bit rude that neither her or Corrin had offered to help me carry my bags, because it was obvious by the way I moved that my arms were sore, and I was exhausted.
I didn't exactly sleep well last night, to many nightmares in my nervous system.
She didn't say a word to me until we had passed over the top step into the fine upstairs, and she huffed.
"Your room is going to be the last one down the right hall." She informed, beganing to walk down the hall as she clasped her hands the way a teacher did before giving a lecture.
"Now as for rules. You'll be required to stay in your room past nine thirty, because that is your decided curfew. I don't care what you do in there just stay out of our way."
At that last statement I couldn't help but feel my heart twist. I was now offically convinced they didn't want me here. I wasn't going to blame them though, because I didn't want to be here either.
"Yes Mam'." I simply said in response though, and she glanced back at me as she slowed her walk.
"You are expected to have manners at the table, complete all of your studies, do any task we give you, never eat inbetween meals, be careful not to rip your clothes because your only getting two outfits a month, and if you get a job then you are required to give us ten percent for the expense of the school we're going to send you." She said, counting off the rules on her fingers, and with each one I felt sicker to the stomach while my heart grew heavier.
It sounded like they were taking on a servent boy, or being a boarding home, not taking me in as their kid. I doubted I was going to get fishing trips with Corrin, or stories from Fay while she helped me get knots in the back of my hair I couldn't reach.
My parents had raised me in a loving house hold where me and my sister got their undivided attention, now I didn't even have my sister for support. Gemma would've been old enough to take care of me, she would've taken me under her wing and supported us.
At that bitter thought I felt my eyes tearing up, so I blinked quickly to divert my attention back to Aunt Fay.
"I won't forget to follow any of those rules." I said, fighting to keep my voice at a normal tone, and volume but it was hard. "Good, because if you break a single one of my rules I'll let Corrin whip you." She then paused to press a finger to my chest.
"And trust me boy I won't hesitate to punish any bad behavior you have." She said as I bit my tongue hard to fiight back to the gasp from her nail jabbing into my chest.
"Yes. I understand." I said quickly, feeling my breathing deepen as she nodded once more then turned away to open the door to my bedroom.
When she did I saw nothing more then a dresser with a mirror, a desk that had a lamp, and a bed that a plump lady dressed in a maids attire was making. "Rosie." Fay said sharply, snappin her fingers, and the woman turned around to look at us with a jolly smile.
"Oh hello there Mrs. Philips! Back so soon?" She asked, glancing at me and winking and I couldn't help but immediately feel a bit of warmth stirring in my stomach but I kept my face nuetral.
"Yes. We've been back for ten minutes now." She said, looking over the room in distaste then shook her head as she nudged me into the room. "Get settled, dinner is in an hour." She said, and with that turning on her naked heel and disappeared down the hall.
"What a woman, it's a wonder she has friends." Rosie said, shaking her head, and I shrugged as I walked into the room and placed my bags on the bed. For a moment Rosie watched me, a smile tugging at her pink lips while I sat down and began to pulled off my gloves from my sore hands.
"Your sure a quiet one." She then commented, shaking her head at me as she went back to folding the pile of sheets at the end of my freshly made bed.
"Not naturally." I said, twisting around a bit to look at her as she glanced at me, still smiling, then blew a strand of reddish brown curly hair out of her face.
"What's you name sonny?" She asked, tossing one of the now folded sheets into a basket, and I moved to a crossed legged position on the bed. "My name's Harold, but everyone calls me Harry." I informed, and she laughed.
"So serious, so formal." She teased, grabbing another sheet and began to fold it. "My name is Rosie, I'm the house maid that works here twenty-four seven, and goes home for the night." She said, then pointed out to my window.
"I live in the house next door." She informed, and I nodded. "I live in this one." I responded, grabbing one of my bags and pulling it into my lap so I could began to empty it. At my cheeky statement she laughed.
"I like you, your a cute kid." She complimented, and finally I smiled my first real smile in awhile. I liked Rosie. She reminded me of my mum personality wise, and reminded me of my dad the way she did her hand gestures and moved around. Maybe living here wouldn't be so bad after all.
"Thanks, it's genetic." I said, unzipping my bag, and pulling out Gemma's casset player, thena few of my books. "Your a funny one to." She said, laughing again as she then gestured to my books. "You like reading?" She inquired, and I nodded as I pulled out one of my notebooks.
"I like writing to." I said, and she grinned. "What kind of things do you write and read?" She inquired, and I furrowed my brow. "I like to read biography's, and fairy tales. But I don't have very much of those." I shrugged, and she nodded thoughtfully.
"Reading, and writing is a good escape. Words can take you into places no picture can." She said, making me smile again, but I felt a little pang at the word escape.
"Maybe I should do more of it then, because I sure could use one." I sighed, once more proceeding to pull out my books, and she gave me a sympathetic look.
"I'm so sorry about your family Harry. When I heard what happened from the mistress I said a prayer in church for you, because you sounded like you needed them." She said sweetly. At her comment I couldn't help but feel the pang in my heart lessen slightly.
"Thank you, that's really nice of you, but I'll be okay." I assured, biting my trembling lip once more while I pulled out another book. "I sure hope so." She said, then sighed as she put the last sheet in the basket.
"Well my work is done here, thank you for the nice chat." She said, picking up the basket and tucking it under her arm. "Your welcome." I said, my voice going soft again in disappointment.
Seeming to detect the drop of my mood Rosie cock an eyebrow at me, before smiling.
"You know, tell you what. Tomorrow when I go grocery shopping I'll take you along, and show you around the trash side of London. And why we're at it I'll show you your new school, because your going to be heaidng there Monday." She informed, and I nodded.
School? I felt like it was to soon to be sent there. I had been kind of hoping Fay and Corrin would spare me the extra stress, and give me a week to settle in. Then again I wasn't to surprised they were trying to boot me out of here so soon.
"Okay, thank you. That sound's like fun." I said, forcing a smile, and she nodded as she walked over to my door to leave then stopped again.
"You know once you warm up to the house, and the mistress and master and all you'll like them." She assured.
"I doubt it, their not my type." I admitted, and she nodded in understanding as she then disappeared out of my room.
It seemed now like it would be just me, myself, and I until death do them part.
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Hello mates! Haha pulled a pirate there ;) So thank you thank you so much for all the sweet comments on the last chapter! I'm so flattered you guys like it so far! I must warn you though, this story is a morbid, so if you don't like those kind of stories then watch out xc But anyways thank you so much! <3
QOTD: Do you like the real life Peter Pan or the cartoon?
Personally I prefer the real life one, because it's cooler. :)

Notes