Disclaimer: Peter Pan, Wendy Darling and the others who might be appearing in this songfic and you recognise, is property of J.M. Barrie, the wonderful author of Peter Pan, the boy who wouldn't grow up.
The song is from The Chronicles Of Narnia - Imogen Heap - Can't Take It In.
A/N: This is my very first songfic about Peter Pan. I just watched the film "Peter Pan" again, with Jason Isaacs as Hook, and this story came into view after listening to this song.
Wendy Darling was a young woman, social and very eligible. After she had left John and Michael and went to her own room, she had grown up quickly. Her father was so proud of her now, as was her mother. They both kept saying she had become such an intelligent, grown up woman.
But that little fact, did not keep her from dreaming.
Dreaming about the boy of her dreams - who wouldn't grow up.
Can't close my eyes
They're wide awake
Just like every night, she was sitting on her windowsill. Looking up at the sky, the big moon and to the second star to the right. 'Just past morning…' She whispered silently.
'Oh, Peter. How I miss you. Have you really forgotten me? Or your promise?'
Wendy sighed and wiped a tear away, while closing her eyes.
Every hair on my body
has got a thing for this place
Images of Neverland flashed in front of her eyelids, she saw the green grass, the big threes and the blazing fire of the Indians. Tiger-Lily, Toodles and Tinker Bell.
Slowly the flashing images went over to a dream. The dream that had haunted Wendy ever since she had last seen Peter.
The dream where she was back in Neverland, not grown-up and just playing the game she and Peter loved playing with the Lost Boys. Find the treasure…
Oh empty my heart
I've got to make room for this feeling
So much bigger than me
Wendy lay asleep on the windowsill once more, Peter noticed. He had come back every evening, if only to watch her sleep. And every morning again, the pain in his heart ached even more when he had to leave her behind.
The window always was open, but Peter knew he couldn't or shouldn't get in anymore.
Wendy had grown-up and he hadn't.
It couldn't be any more beautiful - I can't take it in
So he sat there once more - watching his Wendy-bird sleeping and dreaming.
Sometimes he could hear her moan his name in her sleep and he held her close those times.
Held her till morning, when he had to leave her again.
But morning was still hours away, Peter thought. He could stay just a little longer with her.
Hold her close just a little longer - be with her a little longer.
Weightless in love… unravelling
Soon she will have forgotten about him. She will have forgotten their adventures together, their life they had in Neverland. She will have grown up completely.
For all that's to come
and all that's ever been
Years past and Wendy did grow old. But she never stopped believing in Peter.
Peter also never stopped visiting her. Although she had married an Edward, Peter didn't want to leave her.
Not Wendy, not her stories. For she did tell stories, to her child. Jane was her daughter's name.
Jane didn't believe the stories, Peter could tell. That didn't matter - as long as Wendy kept believing.
After many years, after Jane had married and got children of her own, after Edward had died of ageing, Wendy became sick.
We're back to the board
with every shade under the sun
Peter noticed it in her way of living, her doing so and her eyes. They weren't the sparkling young ones he had always seen, but they became old. Old and greyer than they had been once.
Peter's heartache became even worse. His Wendy-bird began to die! He wouldn't let it happen, not after all these years.
But because he had come so much attached to the idea of Wendy being with him, of Wendy saying she always would believe, he never noticed he too had grown up somehow.
Let's make it a good one
Slowly he had been ageing, his childish looks had become the age they really were in reality. He could no longer deny it. Peter Pan had grown up - in physical way at least. What was he thinking? In mental ways too.
He had loved Wendy all his life, but never took that last step over the window sill to tell her.
And now she had died and he was still there. Old and alone.
He was stuck in London, in the imaginary fields of Wendy 's dreams.
But still… He had spent his life with Wendy.
It couldn't be any more beautiful - I can't take it in