‘Fairies! I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this before. Oh, Pond you’re going to love this.’ She can’t remember quite how they got here; her in the comfy chair watching him swing from lever to lever like some kind of cosmic tarzan. where’re we going, then? she’d asked and he’d smiled a cryptic smile, second star to the right then straight on ‘til morning.
‘Doctor,’ she pauses, lets the silence stretch until he stands still for a moment, ‘Fairies don’t exi-’
He moves again, now, and quickly, hand finding her mouth to muffle the sound. His palm’s warm against her lips, and his fingers curl gently into her cheek. He pulls away a fraction too sharply. ‘All over the shop, fairies, under your noses your entire lives, but you never notice, well some kids do, sometimes, but who believes children, they always tell the truth.’ She ponders that, an incredulous smile playing around her lips. She doesn’t see him looking at her, the slight twitch in the corner of his mouth when she stands, ‘Then how come I’ve never seen one, if they’re everywhere?’
‘It’s a kind of perception filter. To see them, you have to believe in them.’ His face lights up with child-like wonder, ‘Clever, eh?’ His fingers slide into hers, ‘Come along then, Pond.’
‘Doctor,’ she says, quietly, ‘I can’t see anything.’ It’s true, Neverland’s everything she’d imagined, warm and lush and golden, but it’s empty. He leans in, presses his forehead to her temple, ‘You need to let yourself believe, Amy. Trust me, go on.’ There’s a dull ache in his voice, a chink in the chirpy armour, and she feels his fingers twist in her hair, snagging in the curls.
She balls her fists when she shuts her eyes, tight, nails casting red moons into her palms. ‘I trust you.’ She says, lets her eyes flutter open to a chorus of scarlet and gold. (x)
Oh, my heart. You’ve stolen it.