Peter Thomas Pan was born on the first of October in 1989 to a young widow in a small flat above a Chinese takeout in London. The woman hadn't been pregnant until she was suddenly on the floor giving birth to a baby boy. After the initial shock and the realisation, the fact that the crying baby was actually real sinking in, she decided that she would keep him.  For the first ten years of his life, he was subjected to library books and the smells of chow mien from the restaurant below. His mother doing all she could to keep her child hidden in their one bedroom flat. If he was out of the house at all, he was tied to weight laden shoes and wrapped in layers. Anything she could do to keep her child from flying away or glowing. Then, when he was thirteen, he got into an accident and found himself in the apocalyptic future.

"How did you get here?" Five asked the next morning. The sun was shining and Peter had shared his stash of instant noodles that he had found in a partially destroyed supermarket. They were chicken flavoured and the little pot he had in is backpack managed to fit both servings. Peter hovered in the air as he stirred.

"My mum died", he replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry", Five blinked at him, tone not really changing despite the words. Peter didn't feel angry at the obvious lack of sympathy, instead he just shrugged.

"She died. I got sad and angry. People wanted to take me away. When I get emotional, like really emotional. I glow and this energy just exploded and I was in London. But it was destroyed and there was no one there!" His voice cracked and he curled in on himself. "At first I thought I destroyed everything, but then I found a newspaper".  His words drifted off and he stared into the bubbling pot, feet crossed at the ankles. His red converse practically pristine.

"How old are you?" Five was watching him with hazel eyes. Tone slightly gentler than it had been before. He didn't know what to make of the boy with a rats nest of blonde hair currently floating in the air.

"Thirteen. You? How did you end up here?"

"Simple, I grew too ambitious. I tried to time travel, I went too far and now I'm stuck", he let out a massive sigh. "Do you know what you did?"

"Nope", Peter muttered miserably. "I tried. But I think I'm stuck too". A silence as the took the pan off the stove and placed it onto a rock between them. He wordlessly held out a fork that was reasonably clean to Five and the other boy took it. "Can I stay with you?" The question was soft, unsure.

Five dug his fork into the pot and twirled the noodles around the implement. "Well, seeing as we are probably the last two people alive on the whole planet. Might as well stick together".  Peter beamed at him and if his whole body began to glow faintly gold, Five didn't mention it.

"I think this will be a wonderful partnership Five darling".

"Call me darling again with that ridiculous English accent of yours and I'll stick this fork where the sun don't shine", Five grumbled as he stuffed the noodles into his mouth. Peter just grinned.

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"Come on!" Five shouted up at the floating figure high in the sky. Peter had grown. Rosey cheeked thirteen year old now a gangly eighteen year old with blonde hair looking like it had been struck by lightning. He wore a dirty green hoodie over baggy jeans. Below, Five was having his arms in annoyance. The nineteen year old was wearing a mismatched set of suit trousers with a big aviator style jacket he had found a few months before. "Get down here you over grown pixie! You can't hide up there forever!"

"Yes I can Darling!" Peter yelled down where he was cruising around the branches of a some dead trees. They had both tried various times over the five years to leave the apocalypse. Nothing had been successful.

Five growled, stamping his feet. The boots they had scrounged from some basement still slightly big on him. "You give that back! I found it!"

Peter's laugh echoed down to where the brown haired boy, or young man now, was standing. It tinkled like bells. "No I found it first". He waved the tin of peaches over head. The can still sealed and barely even dented.

Below, Five's lips curled and he snarled at him in frustration. Five years together as the only two people at the end of the world and Peter had grown to learn all about his companion. His faults, his sharp but inwardly caring nature. (Very very inward at times. Peter knew that Five cared, or the boy would have left him long ago. It was just hard to remember when he was cursing you so much that the air turns blue). Peter had grown stupidly fond, but that could have just been five years with no one around but Number Five.

"I'll give it back if you give me something", he called down after a second.

"What the heck do you want!"

Peter soared down and dangled upside down in front of Five's face. He grinned at him, bright green eyes shining as around them, snow began to fall. "Can I have a kiss? A proper one. I never kissed anyone before". His tone was teasing. Five just stared at him. Peter's smile faded.

Then Five leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Peter's. It was weird and the angle was wrong, with Peter upside down. For a second his nose collided with the other boy's chin, their lips dry and chapped. But it was enough have his eyes widening in surprise. Then Five pulled away, the contact lasting nothing more than a few seconds. Before Peter could blink, the brown haired boy was jumping up and pulling the can from his grasp. "Ah ha!"

Peter gaped, the air around him glowing faintly pink. The glow faded as realisation hit. "You bastard! Give that back!"

"Nope!" Five grinned at him from where he had blinked a couple of feet away. He shook the can as Peter shot through the air towards him. "Mine now!" Peter laughed as he chased after the other boy. The snow dancing around them as it fluttered down from the sky.

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"Shall we get married?" Peter asked.

He was thirty years old and a fully grown adult. The child he had been when he had first ended up in this apocalyptic world long gone. Stubble covered his cheeks and the clothing he was wearing was tatty with age and various mismatched sizes. It hung on his form, clinging to thin limbs. Too many nights with too little food to be shared between them. Five was the same. The thirty one year old man skinnier than he should be, with ratty hair curling around his neck and too sharp cheekbones. Peter still loved him, though he now stood a whole head taller than his partner.

"Why? It's not like anyone could officiate", Five grumbled as he soaked the fire. Their current shelter a cave made from the rubble of a destroyed skyscraper in what remained of DC. Their travels of the last seventeen years having mainly stuck to east coast. Peter didn't know if he loved the other boy because they genuinely liked each other, or because they were the last two people in the world. Things like that did a lot for a relationship. Some nights it plagued him. Other nights he was glad that he wasn't alone.

"I don't know", Peter shrugged. "I just thought it would be cool. To say that were husbands or something".

"Okay. You're now officially my husband", Five clapped his hands together and made a jazz motion. "Tadaa". Peter sniggered, slowly somersaulting through the air as he giggled. "I really have gone mad", Five muttered as he watched the blonde man. "Marrying my figment of imagination".

"I told you darling", Peter rolled his eyes at the familiar argument. They had been having this argument for years now. Five was instant that he had gone mad and that Peter wasn't real despite looking and feeling real. On bad days he refused to touch Peter, insisting that he wasn't real. On even worse days, he refused to let the blonde go in fear that he would fly away. (Peter had bad days too, convinced that they were going to die alone, or that Five would leave him. Those were not good days for either of them). "I am not a figment of your imagination. Your imagination couldn't come up with something like me".

Five just chuckled at something. "I acorned. The old man always told me that I would pop out a acorn. I guess I did. He was right about time travel breaking the mind". Then he was grinning at Peter, a mad spark in his eyes. "I hereby take you as my husband. Till death do us part". Peter floated down to stand at Five's side. The brown haired man needed a shave. The stubble was growing into a beard.

"May death do us part", he beamed back. If Five was mad, then he was too. Seventeen years of no one but the other. He guessed that they had to be a little bit made by now. "May I have this dance?"

Five laughed as Peter took him by the hand and lifted him up into the air. Both men hovering a few feet of the ground as they began to dance. It took a second to decide who should lead, feet scuffling until Peter allowed Five to place his hand on his waist. Five was the one who had been taught ballroom. Peter had never learnt any form of dance, so he allowed for Five to lead them in a clumsy waltz as he concentrated on keeping them flying. The darker haired man humming a long forgotten tune under his breath as he spun them around. The night sky above them full of so many stars. The light of the partially destroyed moon shining down and lighting them in a soft silvery glow.

Just two men and the life they had made together at the end of the world.

unedited