Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, but I do own Alice. =]
I sat on my window seat and watched the dark night sky for some sign of life. Mother told me you would come so where are you, Peter?
After my mother, the late Mrs. Kensington, told me the story of Peter Pan and his adventures in Neverland, I had exclaimed, "I shall go to Neverland someday, too, Momma!"
"I hope he takes you there. If he keeps true to his word, then he'll return someday and you can go with him this time. Just don't forget to come back!" Mother went to bed early that night, not wanting to deal with the incessant coughing that had begun to plague her over the past several months.
No more than a few weeks later, she was dead. The death certificate stated that the cause of death was Sarcoidosis. (That's what the doctor told my father- I wasn't supposed to be listening.) A year later, my father died as well. Cause of death was unknown.
My nanny, Charlotte, adopted me and we were allowed to stay in my family home. I was eight at the time of my father's death and that was five years ago.
As these thoughts ran through my head, I lay down on the window seat and drew my quilt over me and simply gazed at the stars until sleep came.
Not very far away-just on top of the roof, in fact- a young boy was also watching the stars. A brightly lit fairy sat on his chest quietly listening to the wind howl. The boy whispered to his fairy, "Hey, Tink, do you remember Wendy? Wasn't this where she lived?"
The fairy nodded her head and the boy slowly pushed himself to a sitting position. He scooted to the edge of the roof and practically floated down to the balcony below, landing absolutely silently in front of the French doors leading into the large room that once belonged to Wendy, Michael, and John Darling. In front of one of the doors was a window seat upon which a young girl was sleeping.
The boy kneeled down in front of the door and the sleeping girl and put his hand on the glass, whispering, "Wendy," with longing in his voice even though he knew for certain it was not the girl he had unwillingly fallen in love with -what is love?- almost 20 years ago.
Hours after falling asleep, I began to stir. On the other side of the glass, a strange boy had just landed on the balcony. I slowly opened my eyes and found myself staring into the deep blue eyes of a mysterious boy outside the glass door. He laughed slightly when I bolted upright in surprise, my eyes wide and staring.
Realizing that this may be the Peter Pan my mother was talking about, I threw open the other door and bounced outside.
The boy stepped away from girl as she walked outside, but did not flee as his instincts told him to. This girl was definitely somebody important to Wendy. "Wendy?"
It was obvious she was not his beloved Wendy, but he hoped she would be able to tell him where Wendy was. The girl shook her head. "No, Peter, I'm not Wendy. I am Alice, her daughter."
"I know you're not her. Where is Wendy?" The girl, Alice, frowned slightly, her eyes suddenly shadowed.
"Wendy…Momma is, well, Peter, she's-uh-she died a few years back. But, Peter, she said she wanted me to go with you to Neverland someday….." The girl rambled on and on, but Peter didn't hear anything past the news that Wendy was dead.
He shook his head slightly –not enough for Alice to notice- and he hid his grief-stricken face in the shadows. Tinkerbell flew up to the girl and held her lips together to shut her up for a bit.
When the fairy held my mouth shut, I peered at Peter and noticed that his face glistened slightly even in the shadows and figured the news of my mother was a bit too much for him at the moment. I tiptoed up to him and brushed his cheek with the back of my palm. It was wet.
It hit me again that my mother was dead. It was worse this time with this ageless and timeless person standing in front of me, weeping like my father had. I did not cry for her as I had the first time, but wrapped my arms around the trembling boy.
He was only slightly taller than me and though he wore very little on this cold listless night, he was much warmer than me. He smelled sweet like roses and slightly musky. It was a warm and comforting scent.
Peter was shocked at this girl. She was much more forward than Wendy had been the night they met years ago. She was even comforting him over the loss of her mother. Her hair was a soft light blonde that glowed in the moonlight and smelled of rosemary.
A few minutes later, he was calm again. This girl was so different from her mother, yet reminded him so much of her. Alice had her mother's uncanny ability to make him feel good despite the worst of situations. She released Peter when she was sure he was done grieving, took his hand, and led him to the outdoor table. "Peter," she said, "will you take me with you to Neverland?"
She smiled warmly at him. "I want to fly like my mother."
I just got bored....it's like 2 in the morning so if I messed up somewhere, it's alright. This is completely un-betaed. If you happen to like it and want me to write more, I'll try to. If not, then I'll just leave it as a Oneshot. RxR please