The gentle, lilting music from the pans drifted softly over the ocean, rippling over every peaceful sighing wave. The still night air was calm and clear, like every night had been as long as anyone could remember. The sleepy leaves of the willow trees that hung over the waters edge whispered quietly to each other, washed silver in the brilliant light from the proud moon that watched over a sky full of stars. It was a stunning night, one whose beauty was to be looked upon in awe and wonder.
But to the lonely pipe player sat cross legged on a smooth rock near the water, there was nothing out there to be awed. His tune continued to sound across the huge expanse of ocean before him. As gorgeous as it sounded, if one was to listen closely, they would hear loud and clear the suffering his music carried with it. It was subtle, but so obviously there that it hit you right away, even if you didn't realise it. But it left you with a feeling of emptiness. The same emptiness its composer felt as his lips moved from pan to pan.
To him, there was nothing special about that night. The more he looked at it, the emptier he felt. For as long as he could remember, he'd looked upon nights like like this. It was a typical sight in Neverland. Nothing changed here. Everything stood still in blissful solitude. That was how he had always lived his life. Until he grew up.
His music used to lift him up, used to help take his mind off things he didn't want to remember. It was a way for him to escape reality, but no matter how many notes he sent out across the sea, this was a reality he couldn't run from.
Hesitantly, he lowered his pans into his lap, the last note hanging incomplete in the air. It seemed to go on forever, just waiting for the next melody to come along and end the piece. All alone, just...waiting. Waiting for it all to end.
Raising his head to the sky, the lingering shadows that had clung to his face melted away in the moonlight. He removed his green hat and ran a despairing hand through his floppy red hair, dragging it down his face. He looked somewhat older without his mischievous grin, without that childish twinkle in his eye. Now he was worn out and full of despair, the corners of his mouth curved down in a never ending frown, his eyes dull, almost lifeless. Glancing downwards, he caught a glimpse of his rippling reflection in the clear waters below. In sudden anger, he splashed the image out of focus with his hand, crossing his arms defiantly and turning his face away. What had he become?
He was the famous Peter Pan, the boy that never grew up. He was renowned for his childish sense of humour, his light hearted fun, his boundless energy. Almost everyone knew his name, but no one knew the real story that was him. The Peter they talked about didn't exist anymore. Truth be told, he hadn't for a long time, although he didn't realise it until early this morning. Ever since he met her, he'd begun to change. It was during her time on the island that he'd first realised everything he had missed, everything he would go on missing.
Looking back now, he realised how different he always had been. Not once did he question anything, not once did he wonder 'why me?' For years, he had seen people come and go, said thousands of 'hello's' and thousands of 'goodbye's'. It was the life he had always known, a life he used to enjoy. After all, why shouldn't he? To stay young forever was surely a blessing, and he'd never known anything else. His heart had grown used to the isolation, used to people entering and exiting his life.
But it was that moment when he met her, the moment Peter met Wendy, that begun the change that could never be reversed.
He had slowly been realising how alone he was, started to wonder why everyone always left him, started to feel something he didn't quite understand when they did. But never before had he longed for someone to stay in Neverland as much as Wendy Darling and her brothers. From the very moment he met her, their first night in her old nursery, he knew she was special. Her spirit matched his spirit, her carefree, childish innocence and her exciteable nature was reflected in him. She was the first to see him for more than an easy escape from reality, or merely just a dream. When she looked at him, she didn't just see the Peter Pan everybody knew. She saw a real person, with feelings and experiences of his own. She didn't care if no one else believed, because she did and that was all that mattered. She saw a friend.
During the time they spent together, Wendy showed him things he'd never had before. Through all of their similarities, they had one difference, one that touched Pan greatly. She understood what it was to have a family, to have special people in her life. She showed him what it was like to be a part of something and showed him that he didn't have to be alone. The Darling children became his family, a family he would do anything for.
Letting them go was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. But he knew he had to do it. Who was he to keep them from the people they loved? But once they left, he noticed a difference. It wasn't like all the other goodbye's he'd had to say. This one left a gaping hole in his heart, brought about this emptiness he couldn't shake. Everywhere he went, he found himself looking for Wendy, John and Michael. Every song that was carried on the wind sounded like Wendy's voice, the niggling voice in his head that talked sense into his crazy ideas began to sound like John and every childish laugh and innocent smile reminded him of little Michael.
As each day came and went, Peter missed them more and more. They went back, and they grew up. They probably didn't believe in him anymore. The curse of his blessing hit him full force.
He was never going to move on. The world and everything in it just passed him by. The wounds never healed. He just learned to live with them. That was until this morning, when something he knew he'd inevitably have to face but never wanted to run into came knocking at his door. The pain in his heart came rising to the surface, consuming him entirely.
He had been sitting alone in his room, staring at the curtain division, imagining that he could hear the Darlings talking from the next room, that any minute Wendy would come looking for him, to see if he was alright. But it was Tink that found him. She landed on the small table by his bed, wings drooped, and Pan knew he wasn't going to hear good news.
When he heard what she had to say, he couldn't hold it back anymore. For the first time, he felt tears filling his eyes. He didn't try to stop them as they spilled down his cheeks, an endless flow of pain and suffering that had finally been set free after all this time. His heart was heavy, weighed down with grief, every happy thought leaving him. His feet were firmly on the ground, with no chance of flight. He walked, blinded by his sadness, to where he found himself now. Sat on a rock overlooking the sea, pans in his lap, staring out into the beautiful night that was before him. But all of the beauty in his world had disappeared.
Because Wendy Darling was dead.
He knew this day would come. It had to. It was a part of ordinary life. She had lived a good 87 years, and yet he couldn't picture her in any other way than that little girl that had visited him oh so long ago. He was still the same, still as young as he was when she left. Today, he had lost one of the only people that ever truly cared about him. And it was only a matter of time before the same happened to John and Michael. They were his family now, the only family he ever had, and the only family he ever would have. He wouldn't change them for the world. He'd give anything to see them all one last time, to say goodbye. To find a way back to then, back to the time when they were all free and happy, without a care in the world.
But Wendy was gone, and no matter how many tears he cried, she wasn't coming back. And now he would have to live with this grief, knowing that she was truly gone, for the rest of forever.
That was the problem with being 'the boy that never grew up.' The world just passed him by. He realised now what he'd begun feeling when people left him. So many people, too many to count, had entered his life. Every single one of them became his friend. And every single one moved on, whilst he was left behind. The number of people he'd lost, whilst he remained stuck, with no hope of carrying on. Now, Peter understood what it was to lose someone you love, to lose family. That pain will never go away, it will simply carry on for eternity with him.
Over his thoughts, the note he had played still sounded through the air, still waiting for the next one to end the piece.
The famous Peter Pan will always be there too. Simply...waiting, waiting, waiting. Waiting for it all to come to an end.