I'm a big Peter Pan fan and this is my first Peter Pan fanfic. Hope you like it :)
** I don't own Peter Pan or any of the Characters**
Review Please!
And I was never to see Peter Pan again, so I will tell this story to my children and they can tell it to theirs. For all children grow up…except one.
But the boy, who was to never grow up, never came back through that window. Though he said he would never forget me, I knew he would, for he has so many adventures. I however, had to grow up with my brothers John and Michael and my newest brothers The Lost Boys.
I am now seventeen and I still live in London in the little house on the corner, though it has been expanded to accommodate my newest family members. Aunt Millicent has finally moved out with her new son, Slightly. She still however, insists that I have my own bed room, a bed room fit for a woman. Now that I'm older I actually agree with her, but I refuse to move out of my old room. I still feel the over powering need to keep that same window open every night, just in case he shall reappear.
I wish he would return to see how absolutely lovely the Lost Boys have grown up. Tootles, now formally known as Jacob, found his hunting skills to be quite useful in our high school's archery club. Nibs, though he is still called Nibs as a nickname, his formal name is Derrick, has put his planning skills to good use in mock trials and the Merriwether High School JV Football Team. Slightly and I are partners in writing. I tell him stories and he writes, though this journal is all mine. The twins have also found their place; they both are quite athletic, one in basketball, and the other in rugby.
My mother and father are still very happily married. My father has gotten over his fear of acceptance and has made his name known in the bank and my mother still has the kiss, hidden in the right hand corner of her mocking mouth. Though I have learned what the kiss was for when I was twelve, I have kept the value of it near and dear to me ever since.
Part one
I dreamt of him the first night of senior year. I was sleeping in my old bed with the heart cut out at the bottom. My window was open as always.
Suddenly, I was flying in the chilly air over London. I was soaring toward the second star. It took only minutes to reach Neverland. It looked just as I remember it. The clouds were like fluffy pink groups of cotton candy, hovering over the crystal blue water. All of the flowers along the shore were in full bloom, Peter must be here. I landed just a few feet away from the tree house in which Peter and I shared as imaginary parents of the Lost Boys.
"Peter?" I called out into the sky. I saw a glimmer of light shine off of a nearby tree and it reminded me of a light I saw long ago, a fairy, Peter's fairy. I knew that wherever Tinkerbell was, Peter could then be found, well at least, as long as she doesn't try to kill me...again.
"Tink? Tink!" I cautiously called out as I approached the tree house. I received no answer, "Tinkerbell?" I yelled louder, still to no avail.
I pulled the long vine from the huge tree to open the door. As I walked in, the house was quiet. "Peter?" I called. "Peter, I have stories!"
Then I heard him, "Stories about me?" I turned around to find the same young, green-eyed boy staring at me now, as he was when I was twelve. He was still dressed in moss and vines and his eyes still lit up at the sight of me.
"Peter!" I screamed as I ran into his arms. He moved a bit and then before I knew it we were floating above the ground.
"Wendy." He whispered into my ear. I saw her, Tinkerbell floated around my head gently pushing peter and I apart.
"Hello Tink." I laughed as my feet touched the floor again.
"Tink, can you fetch Wendy some berries from the new garden in the forest? Please." Peter smiled at Tink and I knew she couldn't resist. She flew away in a tiny huff.
Peter leaned in close and kissed me unexpectedly. I jumped back and stared at him, "What was that?"
His answer was simple and took me back to that day at age twelve, "T'was just a thimble."
I woke up from that dream heartbroken and empty as my now opened eyes stare blankly at that beckoning window. I just laid there for what seemed like an eternity just to endure another uneventful day at school that is until seventh period….
"Wendy Darling?"
"Here" I answered my History teacher Mrs. Trinket. She moved her long yellow bangs out of her eyes and squinted at the clipboard in her hands.
Her face turned into a gentle smile as she glanced up at me, "Wendy, Principle Eileen would like to see you in the hallway.
I instinctively let out a small groan as I rose from my seat to a choir of "ooooh's" from the rest of the class.
I found Mrs. Eileen waiting for me with a professional smile dancing on her small face. Our principle is a small petite woman in her 40's. She has always been nice to me but I hear that she can be a real bear when you're on her bad side.
"Hello Wendy" She says with a calming smile.
"Hello, Mrs. Trinket said you wanted to see me?" I responded cautiously.
"Yes, well there is a student in the art department who is an exceptional painter. I would like you to get his information and give him information about art contests in London. I know that you know this country like the back of your hand, so I trust that you can handle this?" She looked at me with her eyebrow raised.
"Uh, yea, sure." I answered as she pointed in the direction of one of the art studios.
He must be a good painter if he is allowed to use one of the private art studios. I have only ever heard of one other student EVER having that privilege and now he is painting somewhere in the US.
The door was open a crack so I peeked my head in and saw the outline of a large canvas with a boy busy at work. He wasn't facing me so I don't think he even sensed my presence. I watched his steady hand sweep across the canvas in long smooth strokes. I almost became just as mesmerized watching him as he was painting. As his hand moved, each muscle in his forearm flexed and relaxed in a rhythm.
I took a step inside the room and because of my luck, my foot knocked over a bottle of paint, the blue color spilling out and taking my stealth with it. I stood there embarrassed and waiting for him to turn around and scold me for breaking his concentration, but he didn't even turn around, all he said was "Janitors will clean it up"
I was still in shock from the spill and the feel of the sticky blue paint seeping into my socks and my voice stuck in my throat.
"Are you the girl Mrs. Eileen sent to tell me about contests?" He said as his hand remained at work on the painting.
"Uh, yes, I know a lot about the contests." I choked out.
The boy stood up and I noticed he was significantly taller than me, maybe 6ft. His short blond hair shook slightly as he turned to face me. All of a sudden I was staring into familiar shiny green eyes. Even in this one first glance I felt that he could see so deep into me, my soul. I was taken back to the woods, the boat, and the tree house. I could see that young boy, could feel that kiss I made his. I could almost see the bright little light of the little fairy that was always by his side. Reality bounced back into my head and I was now looking at a boy, much my age, scruff was forming on his chin and his hands were far bigger than the boy I once knew. But then again, this is no boy, this is a man.
