Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan
It's been a long time since I wrote a Peter Pan fic, and I've missed him so much. Enjoy!
The boy will never forget that day, that beautiful summer day in Kensington Gardens, the first time he ever saw her.
He was sitting high in an oak tree, fiddling with his pipes, watching the humans interact below. Usually he didn't come to the Gardens during the daytime. He preferred them at night, during Lock-Out Time, when all the fairies came out and no humans were allowed in. He spent his days in Neverland most of the time, but on that day he decided he would relax in the Gardens. It was one of his favorite places to be, and the humans were fascinating. They sometimes did the most peculiar things.
On that day, the boy saw the most peculiar thing of all. On the baby walk, he saw a large dog running about with two little children. He had seen plenty of dogs in the gardens before, but this was different. This dog was enormous - the biggest he'd ever seen. It wore a frilly little cloth on its head, and the two little children who chased it cried, "Come on, Nana, come on!"
One of the children was a small boy, not more than three years old, and the other boy didn't dwell on him too long because his gaze was entirely focused on the other child. The girl.
She was dressed in pink. She had glossy, shiny curls that bounced as she ran. Her smile was the sweetest thing the boy had ever seen. She laughed with delight as she chased her brother and their big dog.
The boy flew down from his high tree branch to get a closer look. He made sure to stay out of sight, but he couldn't help but want to get closer still. He wasn't good at guessing the age of a human - he hardly knew what age was - but he could tell she was quite young, but older than her little brother.
He watched them play until around sunset, when their dog led them out of the Gardens. The rest of the humans followed soon after, trickling out to go to their homes or wherever humans went before Lock-Out Time. The boy wondered if perhaps he should come back to Kensington tomorrow, in case the little girl, her brother and their dog came back as well.
And they did. The little girl was there in the morning, this time dressed in white, and she skipped alongside a grown up. Possibly her mother, the boy decided, but he couldn't quite remember what mothers were, so he wasn't sure. He watched them in secret as they admired the flowers blooming along the path. He watched as the little girl ran up ahead of the grown up, and the grown up called out, "Don't go too far, Wendy."
The little girl replied, "Yes, Mother!" and then skipped off to play with some other children.
The boy marveled over the girl's name. Wendy, Wendy, Wendy. He was pleased that he knew her name now. He was also quite pleased that he was right about the grown up being Wendy's mother. He wondered if Wendy loved her mother. For the first time in a long time, he wondered about his own mother, and what had become of her. He couldn't remember anything about her. But he didn't think of her too long, because before he knew it, Wendy was running back to take her mother's hand, and they left the gardens while the sun was still high in the sky.
The boy looked for Wendy every day after that. The fairies remarked to him that he was in Kensington all the time now. He didn't bother to explain himself. Even he couldn't understand why he wanted to see Wendy all the time. All he knew was that he did.
Sometimes she came with her brother, and soon, there was a second brother along with them. The big dog, Nana, as they called her, pushed the pram along the baby walk as Wendy and her brother dawdled on either side of it. The boy tried to catch what Wendy called her brothers, but they were such ordinary names that he couldn't remember them. And truthfully, he didn't really care. All he cared about was Wendy. All he cared about was seeing her every day, and hearing her speak and laugh. He liked the sound of her voice. She spoke eloquently, even though she was so young. Her voice was sweet and clear, like a bird's.
The more the boy saw of her, the more he liked her. At night, as he lay on the shore of the Serpentine or lounged in a tree branch, he would imagine what it would be like to meet her, what it would be like to hear her say his name with her lovely voice. It distracted him to a point where even the fairies noticed that his mind was preoccupied, and a little tinker would tug on his ear or pull his hair to snap him out of it. He always shooed her away.
Several years passed after the first time the boy saw Wendy, but he didn't know it because time meant nothing to him. He did notice that she looked different than she once had. She was taller, her hair was longer, her smile even sweeter. He wasn't sure what had caused the change, but he liked it. He didn't realize that he had also changed as well.
Then one day, Wendy didn't come to Kensington Gardens. The boy looked all over for her, even asked the persistent tinker fairy who stayed by his side most of the time to search for her. But she hadn't come. And she didn't come the next day, or the next. It put an ache in the boy's chest, and for once in his life he didn't feel in the mood for games or mischief. He wondered what had become of his Wendy, if she would ever come back.
He was moping one night, after yet another Wendyless day, when suddenly his fairy friend flew right into his face and blinded him with her light.
"What is it, Tinker Bell?" the boy snapped. Her chimes and jingles told him that a human was in the gardens after Lock-Out Time! The boy found this very peculiar indeed, and decided to investigate, for he had been craving a new adventure.
The fairies all hid in their respective homes as the boy followed Tinker Bell to where the human had been spotted. They lingered between tree branches and looked down below. There, on the broad walk, was indeed a human. The boy could hear it as it cried. He flew a little closer, and as Tinker Bell whispered in his ear, asking what he would do, the human raised her head and the boy gasped.
Wendy. It was Wendy!
Desperate to make himself known to her, but unsure of how to approach her, the boy shifted restlessly at his perch. Tinker Bell, however, had other ideas. She flew out from behind the leaves and right into Wendy's face.
"Tink!" the boy hissed. He heard Wendy gasp. Hesitantly, he poked his head out from behind his foliage disguise.
Tinker Bell fluttered right beside Wendy, who was staring him straight in the face.
He stumbled back, caught off guard. Wendy watched him, perplexed, as he grumbled to himself and came out of hiding. Tinker Bell made fun of him as he did, receiving a harsh wave of his hand that sent her careening into a bush. Satisfied that the pesky fairy had learned a lesson, the boy stood on his feet and placed his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest and tilting his chin.
Wendy sniffled. He could see her face by the light of the moon and the stars. She was even lovelier than he thought. "Who are you?" she asked in a brave voice.
The boy bowed gracefully to her and said, "I'm Peter Pan."
She seemed amused at his formal behavior. She curtsied to him in return. "My name is Wendy Moira Angela Darling."
Peter's brow furrowed, perplexed by all of her names. "That's quite a long name."
"Thank you," she said, pulling a white cloth from her pocket and dabbing her eyes with it.
"Why are you crying?" Peter asked.
She didn't hesitate in confessing her woes to a stranger. "I'm terribly lost," Wendy admitted. "And it seems to be getting darker by the minute, and I'm certain that John has left by now." She stamped her foot in frustration and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, that rotten boy! Wait until Mother hears what he's done."
Peter couldn't help but smile at her, because even though she still had tears on her face, she was acting very silly to him.
"There's no need to be upset," he said.
Wendy frowned at him. "Are you lost too?"
"No."
"Oh...then what in the world are you doing here?"
Peter laughed, a bright, joyful sound. "I live here!"
She seemed shocked by this. "Here?" she asked. "In Kensington Gardens?"
He nodded. "Well, sometimes. When I'm not here, I'm in Neverland."
"Neverland?" Wendy stared at him, baffled. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't know what Neverland is?" Peter asked.
She shook her head. "I've never heard of it."
"I'll take you there, if you'd like," he said with a smile.
Wendy stepped away from him. "No. I just want to go home. Mother must be so worried about me." She looked so concerned as she spoke of her mother, and Peter wondered once again about what makes mothers so special. He could think of nothing.
Wendy then eyed him thoughtfully. "If you live here, then you must know the way out, then?"
"Oh, I'm afraid you can't leave," he said.
She frowned. "Why not?"
"It's Lock-Out Time. The gates are locked," Peter explained.
"Yes, I know the gates are locked," she grumbled. "Can't you open them?"
"Well, I could. I am quite strong," Peter boasted. "But the fairies insist they stay closed, so -"
"Fairies?" Wendy's eyes lit up. He grinned. At this, Tinker Bell came flying at Peter's face, but he caught her between his hands before she could attack.
He held her out for Wendy to see. "All the fairies come out after Lock-Out Time," he explained. "This is Tinker Bell."
"Oh, my!" Wendy exclaimed, her bright eyes wide at the sight of Tink, who was bright red and thrashing beneath Peter's grip. "She's lovely. But she doesn't look too pleased."
"She has a temper," Peter said. "She's so small that she can only hold one emotion at a time. All fairies are like that. Tink just happens to have a bigger temper than most."
"She certainly is remarkable," Wendy continued. Tinker Bell chimed something nasty back, but it sounded like bells to Wendy. "And what a lovely voice!"
Peter grimaced and gave Tinker Bell a shake before releasing her. She scowled fiercely at him before flitting off into the trees, done with him for the night.
"Oh dear," Wendy murmured, watching as the fairy disappeared. "She doesn't seem too happy with you, Peter."
He shrugged. "She'll be back. She's never angry with me for long."
"Are there more fairies in here?" Wendy asked eagerly.
He nodded. "Lots."
"Do you know any others?"
Peter beamed, glad to have impressed her. "I know them all," he said, lifting into the air. "Follow me!"
"Wait!" Wendy exclaimed. "You're flying! How in the world are you doing that?"
He took her hand and pulled her into the air with him. "I'll show you!" It took everything in him to not show off his tricks to Wendy during the short flight from the board walk to the fairy basin. He was so pleased with himself, for meeting Wendy and for impressing her.
It took a bit of coaxing, but Peter managed to persuade a few fairies to come out of hiding and meet Wendy. He was proud of her gentleness and kindness towards the small creatures, because he knew this sort of behavior from humans pleased them. They willingly sprinkled some of their golden dust onto Wendy's hair and shoulders.
"Now," Peter said as the dust settled and Wendy sparkled. "Think of a happy thought!"
"A happy thought?" she echoed.
"Yes. Whatever makes you happiest. Think of it, and it will lift you into the air!" In demonstration, Peter shot up into the sky, whooped as he did several flips, and soared back down to her, hovering expectantly.
Wendy closed her eyes, and soon her feet no longer touched the ground. She gasped with delight. "I'm doing it, Peter!" she exclaimed. "I'm flying!"
"Fly higher!" Peter insisted, coaxing her upward. "Don't be afraid."
"I'm not," Wendy said with a roll of her eyes. Slowly at first, her altitude increased. But soon she was above the tree tops, giggling with glee. Peter raced her around the sky, and taught her all sorts of flips and tricks. Tinker Bell watched from afar, jealous of how Wendy received all of Peter's attention.
Eventually, Wendy's feet touched the ground once more, and she smoothed her hair down as Peter came to stand beside her.
"Oh, that was remarkable! Won't John be sorry he left me now!" she exclaimed.
Peter laughed. "Now what shall we do?"
Wendy hesitated. "Are you really sure you can't open the gates?" she asked.
He nodded solemnly.
"We can't ask Tinker Bell to do it?"
"She won't. None of the fairies will. They feel safer when the gates are closed."
Wendy sighed, the look of disappointment on her face making Peter feel sad too. But he didn't want her to leave. He had only just met her. He wanted to go on every adventure with her.
"Don't you have to be going home soon?" Wendy asked.
Peter shook his head. "I live here," he reminded her.
"I know, but won't your mother be looking for you?"
"Don't have a mother."
"You don't? What about your father?"
"Don't have a father."
Wendy gasped, her hands flying to her heart. "You're an orphan?"
"What's an orphan?" Peter asked.
"A child who has no parents."
"I had parents once," he said nonchalantly. "I ran away when I was a baby, after I heard them talking about what I was to be when I grew up. I never want to grow up, Wendy. Never."
"So you left?"
"I flew out the window! I came here to Kensington Gardens, and I met Tinker Bell and the other fairies. Eventually we found Neverland. I never saw my mother and father again."
"Never?" Wendy whispered, heartbroken.
This wasn't actually true. Peter did try to go back, once. But his mother had closed the window on him, barred it, and replaced him with another boy. He seemed to be able to forget almost everything he didn't find important - but he could never forget the feeling of being locked out. But he wasn't going to tell Wendy this. So he nodded.
"Oh, Peter, how tragic. I can't imagine never seeing Mother or Father again," she said.
He shrugged. "Grown ups are boring. I want nothing to do with them."
"So you never want to get married? Or have a family?"
"No," Peter said firmly, though he wasn't quite sure of what either of those things were.
Wendy shook her head. "I do," she said with a small smile.
He felt his stomach twist. How could Wendy want to grow up? He couldn't bear to think she would one day forget everything wonderful about being young. That one day she could forget him.
"I'm tired of all this talk about grown ups," he announced. "Let's go do something fun!"
"Like what?" Wendy asked.
"I could show you my boat!" he suggested.
She nodded eagerly, so he whisked her off to the shore of the Serpentine River, where his little boat waited.
"I built it myself," Peter explained. "So that I could cross easily, or visit the birds' island."
"You're quite clever, aren't you?" Wendy remarked.
He beamed at her, his heart swelling with pride.
"Are you sure there's going to be room for us both?" she asked, observing the little boat. It was designed like a large nest, made from sturdy twigs and branches. The sail was a nightshirt, which made Wendy giggle.
"Of course," Peter said as he climbed in. He stretched his legs, trying to reassure her that there was plenty of room, but Wendy still hesitated.
"What if I can't fit and the whole thing topples over?" she asked.
He held out his hand to her. "It won't topple over. Come on."
She took his hand and carefully stepped into the boat. It swayed a little in the water under her weight. Peter took hold of her waist and plopped her on his lap, then cast off from the shore. Soon they were sailing down the Serpentine.
"Oh my," Wendy murmured. She was resting quite snuggly in Peter's lap. He grinned at her.
"See? I knew we would fit," he said.
They sailed along in silence for a while, Wendy marveling at the water under the moonlight and the fairies that came out to get a peek at her. Peter was quite content with her sitting so close to him. She was very warm and very soft.
"This must be a marvelous place to live," Wendy said.
"It is," Peter replied.
"How old are you, anyway, Peter?"
"I don't know. Quite young." He quirked a brow at her. "How old are you?"
"Eight," she said.
"I am too," he decided.
She rolled her eyes at him. "You're not really eight years old, though. How can you not know your age?"
"It doesn't matter to me," Peter said. "I'm never going to grow up. So age means nothing."
Wendy eyed him warily. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand. How is it possible that you'll never grow up?"
Peter was silent for a moment, because truthfully, he had never thought about it before. One day he had simply decided he would be a boy forever, and that was that.
"Well, I'm sure Neverland has something to do with it," he said at last. "It's a very magical place."
"It does sound fascinating," Wendy agreed.
His eyes lit up and his smile was radiant. "It is! You'll see it some day, I'll take you. And I'm sure that if you ever wished it...Neverland's magic would work on you too. Then you'll never grow up either!"
"Oh, but don't you think being a grown up is sort of exciting?" Wendy asked with a dreamy smile. "You can do whatever you want when you're a grown up."
He gave her a look of the utmost disgust. "I can do whatever I want now," he said passionately. "Grown ups are horrid. Especially mothers."
Wendy frowned at him, but said no more. Peter still felt a little cross about the whole subject, considering she so firmly liked the idea of adulthood. But he didn't want his lovely Wendy to dislike him in any way, so he took her hands in his. She looked at him with wide, bright eyes.
"I can show you all the wonders of being young," he said in a voice no woman had ever been able to resist. "We can go on all sorts of adventures together. Wouldn't you like that, Wendy?"
"Of course I would," she replied, her cheeks turning pink.
"I'm certain that our adventures will be better than any adventure a grown up has ever had!" Peter continued enthusiastically. "They'll be magical and dangerous! And we can fly where ever we want!"
"Well," Wendy said softly. "I suppose it would be rather exciting. And our adventures will certainly make fascinating stories."
He nodded eagerly. "The most fascinating," he agreed.
She considered him for a moment, and he waited with baited breath, his little heart fluttering, while she silently made her decision. Then she smiled beautifully at him, a smile filled with wonder and excitement, and said, "Very well, Peter Pan. Let's have an adventure!"
So when the sun rose over London that morning, and Lock-Out Time came to an end, two little stars raced through the sky and were swallowed up by an even larger one, second to the right.