Lullaby One: Stay Awake

Storms were rare in Neverland. Rare as rain. But when they came, they attacked with the fury of broken promises and shattered dreams. When they came, they dragged hearts through the mud. When they came, they hurt.

Peter Pan and Wendy Darling ran against the storm. Wendy cradled Tootles. Nibbs and Cubby trailed by her skirt. Peter carried little Michael, Twin One, and Twin Two. John and Slightly crouched behind, shielded from the rain by Peter's shadow and John's umbrella.

Battered by invisible fists, the children stumbled to Hangman's Tree. The wind screamed until the littlest Lost Boys cried. Thunder cracked and lightning whipped, smashing the sky into pieces.

"In!" Peter muscled each Lost Boy into the tunnel entrance. "Come on, I've got you! I've got you! In!" Peter panted, kneading blood from his eyes as Wendy ushered John, Slighly, Cubby, and Nibbs into his arms. Fleetingly, he saw each boy with mouth-fulls, tooth-fulls, and nose-fulls of blood before they disappeared into Hangman's Tree.

It came to the last Lost Boy, Tootles. Always caboose in the lineup and smallest of the troop, Tootles sobbed into Wendy. Peter wiped his bangs. Rain streamed into his eyes as the treetops spurred like grotesque nodding heads.

"Tootles!" Peter yelled, but could not hear himself over the wind. Lighting littered the sky. Branches dirtied the air. "Tootles! Come on buddy! Come here!"

"Tootles!" Wendy moved between flashes of lightning, trying to pass Peter the little boy. Wind reared and leapt onto Wendy's shoulders, driving her down. Mud splattered as Wendy buckled, knees cracking to keep Tootles safe. "Tootles! Dear!"

Peter dove. Cursing the wind, and scooping both Tootles and Wendy into his arms, Peter threw a leg into Hangman's Tree.

Down, down, down they fell. The storm chased them all the way, finally throwing Peter, Wendy, and Tootles onto the floor.

It was dark in Hangman's Tree. The storm wailed outside, furious that the children escaped. Rain poured and wind punched. The treehouse shook, moaning from canopy to roots.

Peter's ears pricked, listening for the Lost Boys. They were there, he could hear every one of them pant. Peter curled his fingers. They dug into Wendy's nightdress. He felt her on top of him, wet with rain and sticky with fear. Peter breathed. Tootles squirmed, squished safely between them.

"Tink…" Peter whispered. He swallowed, searching for his voice. "Tink. Light."

Tinkerbell obliged. Trembling from beneath Peter's red-feathered hat, she sprinkled pixie dust across the room.

Peter turned. He rolled over Wendy and Tootles without letting go. He looked. The Lost Boys looked back.

Peter's heart broke at the sight.

Slightly lost one fox ear, and his real ear was puffy and blue. Nibbs and Cubby broke a nose between them, and their nostrils ran faucets of red. John's eye was black, his glasses were bent, and a cannon sized hole still smoked from his prized top hat. Twin One split his upper lip, Twin Two split the bottom, and dear little Michael couldn't hope to stitch poor Teddy back together again.

Peter exhaled. Bowing his head, he tried to hide a sob but forgot about Tootles and Wendy below. Tootles welled as Peter touched the scratches on his freckled face. Ashamed to cry before the great Peter Pan, Tootles twisted to hide in Wendy's hair.

Peter lifted his eyes to Wendy. Lightning splintered the darkness, tracing where the pirate sliced Wendy's cheek. Into the skin. Across the bone. A breath below her blue, blue eye. Peter stared. Wendy's eyes were luminous in the dark. The red line curved beneath it, cradling her eye and leaking blood down her cheek.

One flick higher. Just one flick up. And Wendy…

Peter felt himself sinking before Wendy spoke.

"Boys. Boys, my dearest, brave, whole-hearted Boys!" Peter gasped. He felt Wendy disappear and heard her voice tremoring in and out. "You are safe! We are safe! Peter Pan has saved us again."

Peter blinked. Hard. Tinkerbell jingled in his ear. He shook his head, knocking her out. "Tink. I'm…I'm up. I'm…Wendy? The boys?"

"Peter?"

Wendy crossed his shoulders with the gentlest touch. Reflexively, Peter grabbed her hand. He grunted as she helped him up.

"I…" again Peter blinked. Shapes and shadows, too crooked to be friendly, blurred and refocused. Heavily, Peter breathed. Something was throbbing in his temple and screaming in his head. Investigating the pain, Peter rubbed the spot. He dipped backwards into Wendy, staring at the blood in his hand.

"Boys!" Wendy stumbled. Nearly toppling under Peter's weight, she swerved into the wall. "Oh dear! Boys! Boys please come help – "

But the Lost Boys had reached the depths of despair. Convinced that their leader was dead, dying, or well on his way, they wailed into a pile of bruises and unhappy thoughts.

"Oh no." Wendy sagged, struggling to hold Peter aloft. "Oh no, oh dear. Boys! Boys you mustn't worry, please don't cry! It's all right! I promise the pirates have gone! Slightly! Nibbs! John! John! Oh. Tinkerbell! Tinkerbell!"

But Tinkerbell had burrowed sadly into her nook. After all, her wings were horribly bowed and painfully bent.

"…oh no."

Wendy lowered, Peter rest on her knees. His neck hung limply from her shoulder, but Peter still gripped Wendy's hand like a vice.

"…help." he breathed incoherently into her sleeve. Wendy turned, listening again to Peter murmur under the storm. "…help me."

Wendy bit her lip. She tasted blood over the magical hidden kiss.

"All right." Wendy whispered. She squeezed Peter's hand. "All right. I will."

And she did. Hobbling into Peter's secret lair, she managed to hoist the boy into his hammock. Then, smoothing her skirt and brushing her hair, Wendy tended to her boys. The storm howled at her pursuits, but Wendy ignored the wind and rain. She kindled the fire. She dried all the tears. She mopped up the blood. She untwisted Tinkerbell's wing. She patched every bruise, every bleed, every scrape, and every sore. She fluffed the pillows. She readied the beds. And she debated on telling a story but, afraid of where her unhappy thoughts might take it, she decided that the boys had best rather go to bed.

"Bed?!"

"I'm not going to bed!" Slighly informed her, legs crossed over his foxy tail. "Not until Pan's well!"

"Slightly – " Wendy began, trying to replace the sheets.

"My finger hurts!" Michael wept, displaying his swollen thumb.

"Wendy, I feel sick." Nibbs whimpered, curled in his bunk.

John raised a feeble hand. "Dido. Falling asleep seems a chore and a half."

"And I can't go to bed now!" Cubby jumped as lighting striped the walls. "Not in this storm!"

"Dear, you can snuggle under the covers." soothed Wendy, patting Cubby's cheek. She turned as Twin One and Twin Two tugged her skirt.

"How do we know the pirates are gone?" Twin One cried, seizing her leg.

"What if they followed our tracks?" cried Twin Two, seizing her other.

Wendy faltered. With difficulty, she settled onto the bed. "Boys…" she stammered as Tootles crawled into her lap. "Boys, the storm will have covered our tracks. And the pirates are not clever enough to – "

Thunder clapped, interrupting Wendy's speech. Lighting threw shadows across the room, and the children's' imaginations turned them into pirates.

The Lost Boys screamed. Running for cover, they swarmed behind Wendy. And Wendy, despite her practicality, believed for a moment that pirates were lurking with monsters under the beds.

"Boys!" she scolded, partially to herself. "Boys! This won't do. Peter is hurting, but he will be well with sleep. I know you don't wish him ill! You're good boys, aren't you?"

"Yes. But –"

"Captain Hook is far, far, ever so far away!" Wendy continued, thankful the boys were too rambunctious too notice her shudder. Deftly, she touched the burning cut beneath her eye. "And so are his pirates. That I promise you. So…there is no need to be frightened – "

"—but—"

"—no need for tomahawks, clubs, arrows, or swords – "

"—but, but –"

"—and no need –" Wendy pleaded as Michael and Tootles squirmed back into her arms "—for anything but bed!"

"Mother!" Swinging from his bedpost, Slightly spoke for his crew. "Mother! We can't! We can't with those stupid pirates and bully storm! We just can't go to bed!"

Wendy bristled as the Lost Boys chorused Slightly's cry. The thunder and lightning had another fit, and Wendy softened as her boys gathered around, pressing against her for safety and care.

Sighing, Wendy balanced Tootles and Michael in her lap. Gently rocking, she gazed contemplatively at nothing at all.

Then, clever Wendy had a thought.

"Very well…" Wendy said as the boys pointed toy weapons at imaginary foes. Deeply, she breathed in Michael's downy hair. "…perhaps it would help…if I sang a song? A little lullaby? To pass the time until dawn?"

"Huh?" Slightly turned and The Lost Boys cocked their heads. "A lullaby? Now?"

"Yes."

"For night?"

"Slightly? Whenever else?"

Thunder boomed. Lightning cracked. Slightly raised his sword, just a smidge. "Pan doesn't do it like that. Lullaby at night seems…strange. But…." Slightly bit his lip. He cringed at a second thunder plea. "…maybe this once. If it makes you happy, Mother."

Wendy cradled Michael and Tootles against her chin.

"Yes." she said, catching a small flicker from Peter Pan's secret lair. She paused, but the flicker vanished between lightning strikes. "Yes. It would make me very happy, indeed. Are you ready?"

Slightly nodded. So did the boys. They were taut, aiming for the storm. "Mm-hmm. Go ahead, Mother. We're not going to bed."

Wendy nodded. "I know…you must stay awake. Fight the storm. My brave, brave, brave Lost Boys…."

Wendy cleared her throat. Stroking Tootle's costume and Michael's head, she softly sang. It was a lullaby Wendy's mother had cast once, easily as an enchantress casts a spell. It was lovely, haunting, unhurried, and tempting.

"Stay awake, don't rest your head….don't lie down upon your bed…while the moon drifts in the skies…"

Wendy glanced. She continued carefully as Slightly slowly lowered his sword.

"…stay awake…."

Slightly's eyelashes fluttered.

"….don't close your eyes."

Michael and Tootles drifted into Wendy's arms. Nibb's rabbit ears sagged over messy blankets. John removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Twin One and Twin Two sighed dreamily as Cubby yawned. And Slightly, blinking less and less, kneeled onto the bed.

Delicately, Wendy picked her way through the boys.

"Though the world is fast asleep…"

She laid Michael and Tootles aside John's chest.

"…though your pillow's soft and deep…"

She drew covers over Cubby, Twin One, and Twin Two.

"…you're not sleepy as you seem…"

She caressed Nibb's floppy ears.

"…stay awake…"

Gently, ever so gently, she guided Slightly into his bed.

"…don't nod and dream…"

She smoothed Slightly's hair.

"…stay….awake…" Wendy whispered, backing silently to Peter's lair, "don'tnod…"

Lovingly, Wendy cast a final glance at her slumbering boys.

"…and dream."

Dreams puffed into the air, dancing over the Lost Boys. Smiling, Wendy lingered, just to watch. She had never seen anything so peaceful. So pure.

Suddenly, a hand clamped her ankle.

Wendy jumped. Frightened, she covered her mouth. She looked down.

Peter, slumped on the floor, gazed up at her with midnight eyes.

"A lullaby at night?"


sultal's note: This chapter's lullaby = "Stay Awake" from Mary Poppins. I will be posting the lullabies used at the completion of this story, on YouTube. This story is worth reading with the music playing.

Inspired by LadyAnne23's love of Mary Poppins, and also by the kid that still asks me to sing him asleep in times of hurt.