Summary: Peter Pan spent four years trying to deny it was happening. But after a point, the truth became inescapable. Now he's made a decision that will mean a new life, one that he never foresaw. But perhaps, just perhaps, it won't be as awful as he imagined …
Authors Note: I'm a sap. There is no other way to say it. And, as such, I was VERY perplexed with the ending to the Peter Pan story. I read the book, I saw the movie – and damnit, here's my take on what would have happened if Peter had left Neverland and returned to grow up. This has probably been done to death, but in my world, you can never have too much fluff.
Never Say Never
Prologue :: Choices
If anybody had ever told Peter Pan that he'd even be considering what he was about to do, he certainly would have laughed hysterically at the sheer absurdity of such a suggestion. And then he probably would have run them through with the first pointy thing that came within reach, just for good measure, you understand.
He'd spent a good four years trying to deny it. However, the more he attempted to tell himself that it just wasn't so – couldn't possibly be so – something else happened. It was just one calamity after another. And it simply wouldn't stop!
He first noticed something amiss in the few months following his last trip back to Neverland from London. When he first bumped his head against the top of the carved entrance into the secret hideout, his brow furrowed in slight surprise but he didn't dwell on it for a prolonged measure of time. Indeed, he forgot about it almost immediately. Peter Pan is, after all, very easily distracted.
The next time he tried to fly through however, he didn't dismiss it so readily. The poor boy nearly gave himself a concussion attempting a vertical entrance. Luckily, for the next several months (before he acquiesced and supervised the most recent generation of Lost Boys in the building of another hideout), he remembered to duck before entering.
Next he noted, with much alarm, that something had happened to his voice. For a short while it fluctuated up and down (and occasionally even round and round); high and boyish one second and deep and distinctly non-boyish the next. He found the entire experience so disconcerting that he was even somewhat glad when it finally decided to stay as it was. It was deeper. It was huskier. It was very, very perturbing.
And then, to add insult to injury, he realised that he was actually thinking more. He considered his options, he weighed alternatives in his mind, and he even brooded on occasion. Fighting the distinct impression that he was actually maturing – heavens, no! – he pushed it aside and put it all down to the lack of a good mortal enemy. Indeed, there hadn't been a worthy opponent since the demise of the late departed Captain. Of course, that had to be it.
Whatever the cause, he found the entire situation highly off-putting.
Despite his reservoir of excuses – and some were awfully creative, it must be noted – one day he simply found himself running out of plausible explanations.
It was on that fateful day that he considered something different. Something so ridiculous it just had to be right.
Peter Pan was growing up.
And as disturbing as this thought was, he knew that his time in Neverland was limited. Neverland was a place for children, for Lost Boys and little girls who believed in fairytales and magic. For it is a truth universally acknowledged (at the very least in the dimmest recesses of one's mind) that magic – real magic like that in Neverland – is for children.
And Peter, as loathe as he was to admit it, was quickly leaving that part of himself behind.
He knew precisely where he had to go. He didn't like it, but he knew it had to be done.
Peter was going out into the real world.
Peter Pan was going to grow up.
tbc …