One Last Adventure
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan (or Wendy, or Tinkerbell). That's Barrie's property.
Author's Notes: This is an AU story about an old, dying Wendy, still waiting for Peter at the window. I know Peter ends up with Margaret (or Moira), Wendy's granddaughter someday. And I know Tinkerbell dies a year after the Darlings return to London. Again, this is AU.
This was inspired by the last scene from Titanic where the old Rose meets Jack again on the staircase and she is young once more, and by the theory that Peter is an angel that takes dying children to Heaven. And since Wendy never stopped believing in Peter, that qualifies her as a child at heart. And so Peter takes her.
"Someday, you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."
-C.S. Lewis
Wendy Moira Angela Elton shivered, wrapping herself tighter with her blanket. She was always cold now, as the sick always are. Wendy was dying. She knew it the moment she felt that pain in her hip—and her back. She recalled a conversation she had with her doctor one day.
"I am astounded, Mrs. Elton," Dr. Thaxton exclaimed. "If I recall correctly, your late husband was a doctor—Dr. Elton. You should have known it then and said something about it."
I did know it all along, Wendy thought, careful not to say it out loud. I was afraid you'd cure me.
She had an aggressive bone cancer. Now it had spread all over her body. She had just come home from the hospital. It was her wish to die at home, in the company of friends and family. She refused to die in a cold London hospital room. Above all, besides the company of friends and family, she wanted to see someone special to her before she died. The boy she fell in love with, a century ago it seems. The boy she will always love.
Wendy sat up, perching herself on the edge of her bed. Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, she slowly, shakily stood with the help of her cane, and made a painful journey to the window. She flung it open, letting in the cold night air, making her shivering increase. She sat on the cushioned seat and sighed, staring into the midnight sky. She was looking for two familiar stars, the second of which will lead her to Peter and Neverland.
Every year since their return from Neverland, Wendy, John, and Michael would sit at the window of the nursery and wait for Peter Pan and Tinker Bell. Year after year, they waited. Peter did not come. At sixteen, John stopped believing. Michael finally stopped believing at twenty-five, lest his colleagues think him odd and have him committed to an asylum. But not Wendy. Never Wendy. She always believed. Always waited. Always hoped Peter would come to take her and her brothers on one last adventure in Neverland. And now, even in her final days, she waits, hoping she will see Peter flying towards her, or see Tinker Bell's glow. She never grew tired of waiting. Time, however, was running out for her. She could die any day now. Any day could be her last. It intensified her desire to see Peter one last time. Tonight could be her final chance. And so there she was, sitting on the seat by the window, dreaming of a time long ago, when a boy dressed in leaves came to take her away. An hour passed, still no Peter. Wendy sighed, getting up once more to go back to bed. Just as she was about to take a step away from the window, she heard that familiar voice in her ear and saw a tiny light out of the corner of her eye. She smiled.
"Wendy?"
"Oh, Peter! It is you," Wendy cried, overjoyed to see him again. "I knew you would come. Take me back with you to Neverland, Peter."
"Are you ready?" Peter asked.
"I've always been ready," Wendy said in a weak voice, but with a warm smile. "Always."
"Then come with me. You know what to do."
"Yes."
Wendy closed her eyes, a smile on her face. Tinker Bell worked her magic, sprinkling Wendy with fine, golden fairy dust. In a second, she was floating.
"Open your eyes, Wendy."
Wendy gasped when she did so. She was on air. She could not believe it. It was time for one last adventure with Peter.
"Second star to the right and straight on till morning," Peter said, as he, Wendy, and Tinker Bell soared above the streets and rooftops of London. And as she flew, Wendy felt herself getting stronger, younger. There was no more pain. She was once again the young Wendy in the nursery. The young Wendy who first met Peter and Tink. The young Wendy who flew for the first time to Never Neverland.
"Goodbye, Grandmother," Margaret, Wendy's granddaughter said, as she laid the rose on Wendy's coffin. She was the last member of the family to put a rose and say her goodbyes.
After she had finished, Reverend O'Donnell began the committal ceremony, while the coffin was being lowered to the ground.
"For as much as it has pleased our Heavenly Father in His wise providence to take unto Himself our beloved Wendy Moira Angela Elton, we therefore commit her body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, looking for the blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God in our Savior Jesus Christ who shall change the body of our humiliation and fashion it anew in the likeness of His own body of glory according to the working of His mighty power wherewith He is able even to subdue all things unto Himself. Amen."