Young Writers Society

Kate fiddled with her bangs. The bullet wound was too low for them to cover it completely, but still, it was slightly less in-your-face.

It was a few moments before she realized she should slow down, lest the sad, ever-hungover man fall on his face and not be able to get back up. The crunch of the forest floor beneath his ungraceful feet made her cringe, regardless of the fact that anyone who found Hoss wasn't going to be the most keen on rushing after them full force and immediately. Hoss needed serious medical attention, and when he awoke, he would have one hellofa story to tell.

She offered James an arm for support, keeping her gaze on the trees around them anyway. Some animal or something could smell the blood and come looking for and easy meal.

James didn't want to take Kate's arm, but he did because he didn't think he was going to make it very far if he didn't. He took in a deep breath and tried not to look straight at the bullet hole through Kate's head. He didn't know if her being undead meant that her corpse would never recover, but he didn't really want to ask.

"So, Neverland. You need to get back there at some point."

She tucked the gun away in her coat and took out her glasses, awkwardly putting them back on with her one free hand. They helped to hide the bullet hole a little better, she thought. She didn't have a mirror on her to check.

"Yeah," she said, "Lully'll be pissed when she learns about what I've been doing here." Tallulah never got to eat actual people. Neverland didn't exactly have a lot of tourists.

Lully. Lully? That must've been a nickname for Kate's girlfriend.

"Do you have any idea how you could get back?" he asked.

She shrugged the shoulder he wasn't leaning on, "Ship. Just follow the second star and let the glitter and rainbows blind your eyes until you make it to the dumbest place off-Earth. That or you go right to the glitter and use a little pixy dust." She rolled her eyes. The idea of either of those things happening anytime soon, or anytime at all, was frankly absurd.

She hated the very fucking thought, but the chances of her getting home were slim to none.

James let out a small, quiet sigh. Oh. He didn't know what pixie dust was, and he had no idea where Kate's ship was.

"... I suppose our best bet might be heading to the coast, then," he said. "But it'll be a while."

She rolled her eyes, "No shit, Sherlock." She eyed him. He was still on his feet, kinda. Barely. He was about to tip over.

They had the whole day ahead of them and this dumbass was hungover and had lost, just, too much blood. She cringed at that. There was no way she was doing that bullshit again. She'd rather cut off her own right arm.

"Is there a town anywhere nearby?"

"Yes. But it'll take two days at least to get there," he answered. "We're a bit off the map out here."

She nodded and considered their options. They couldn't find safety in a town somewhere. It would take at least a few weeks for her head to look normal anyway, and people's reactions so far to her vampiracy were decidedly negative. They could set up camp in the woods and risk staying too long and having someone catch up with them.

She drew a completely unnecessary deep breath.

"How are you feeling?"

James laughed with an empty expression. "Ah, well, very lightheaded still. It probably doesn't help that I did all that on an empty stomach."

"You need a nap." Not a question. "Lay the fuck down. I'll keep watch. If anyone's stupid enough to come after us after finding your little fanboy like that, I have my sword and his gun."

James didn't want to listen to Kate's orders, but he knew he couldn't keep pretending to be fine. If he kept pushing himself like this, he wasn't going to make it very far. He knew his previous nap hadn't lasted very long before Hoss came for him, but he hoped that this time - if Hoss could serve as a warning, maybe - people wouldn't follow.

"Okay," he said, coming to a slow stop. Carefully, he leaned on a tree as he sat down.

Kate gave a satisfied nod and plopped down beside him. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. Poor guy was exhausted.

Her sympathy for him quickly drained, though.

Hours later, she was still pacing between a pair of crooked evergreens and he was still dozing away. Sweet dreams you sad-ass glitter-drinking bastard. She was so fucking bored.

No amount of rearranging her hair his the big chunk of missing skull and what had once served as a brain. Well, it was still a brain, she just didn’t need it anymore. She would eternally praise the gods that Connery was too proud an idiot to do half a minute of research into the things he hated.

By the time he woke up, there were three discarded flower crowns tossed haphazardly into the brush (and Kate had no idea where those could have possibly come from), some of the longer grass had been braided, and Kate had a strip of fabric from her bottom layer of shirts tied around her head to hide the marks left by the dumbass who tried to kill a cadaver.

"Good morning, sunshine," she grumbled. It was nearly midnight.

James woke up bleary. The sleep had helped him, but he was still running on empty, and he could feel it. That sensation though was normal. Hunger he was used to pushing through. But hunger on top of a hangover and extreme blood loss, not as much.

He sat up, giving his body a moment to take in what was around him. The sun had set, which meant he'd been out for far too long, and he knew it wasn't because he felt safe to sleep that long. It was blood loss and exhaustion.

He looked around on the ground, noting the sloppy flower crowns that he assumed Kate made either out of boredom or in an attempt to create something to cover her bullet wound (maybe both). He chose not to address them. It looked like she'd finally landed on tearing some of her clothing to make a semi-suitable headwrap, which seemed to do the job.

He thought about apologizing for sleeping so long, but Kate seemed averse to that sort of thing.

He cleared his throat. It was dry.

"Do you still want to head for the nearest town?"

"Unless you have a better idea," she said, stretching, "I'm not from this stupid little world of yours, remember?"

It was bold of her to call this world 'little'. Neverland was a single island surrounded by just enough sea to stop seeing the island before you came back around to it. Of course, she called it that anyway.