Falling Away With You
A Story by WireNecklace
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the original characters from J. M. Barrie's tales.
Chapter One: Introduction
The window blew open, as was its way when such children came to it, and ten sets of feet set lightly down onto the dusty floor. A piano was playing off in a room close by.
A young boy with dark brown hair and a long night-shirt covered with leaves and vines rushed to a kennel against the wall with the words 'Nana' painted on the front and stifled a cry, "Wendy, it's father."
Wendy and Michael padded over and stooped to see their once extremely prideful father curled up in their old nursemaid's kennel. "Is that my father? He's really not any bigger than that pirate I just killed." The boy whispered to the others.
"Michael..." Wendy looked up in the direction of the open nursery door, "That must be mother playing the piano." Her voice was hushed so as not to wake her father or call their mother into the room, "John, Michael, get into bed." She turned to the Lost Boys still wearing their pirate clothes from their last adventure together and whispered, "Nibs, you get climb in with Michael. Curly, you're in with John. Slightly, Tootles, and Twins, climb into that bed." She pointed in the direction of her old bed.
Once the boys were tucked in, Wendy went to the desk in the corner of the room. She pulled a quill and paper from one of the drawers and began scribbling quietly. "Wendy...what are you doing?"
A boy in leafy garments stood on the window sill with his hands on his hips. The brown-eyed girl looked over her shoulder , her eyes connecting with the water-blue orbs of the boy, "I'm going back."
John stared at his sister quizzically, "Going back? Wendy..."
The boy came down off the sill and stood next to the girl in the once cream-colored night-dress now the color of earth and grass and thousands of sunny days and starry nights, "She's coming back to Neverland with me." He smiled triumphantly.
The brown-haired boy slipped out from under his sheets, "Wendy, that's horribly irresponsible." He spoke to the girl as if she hadn't been acting like his mother for many suns and moons, too many to count, "Think of mother."
Wendy's eyes found the ground and she bit her lip, her mother's mournful song on the piano didn't help her conviction. But Peter slipped his hand into hers, "John, she's made her choice. She's coming with me."
John took a challenging step forward but Slightly stepped in front of him, "Aye, John. She's made her choice. Don't be a blockhead. Right, Curly?"
"Aye. Right, Tootles?"
"Aye. Right Nibs?"
"Aye. Right Twins?"
"Aye."
John looked around hopelessly, his temper rising. Wendy put her hands up, "Stop this." Wendy shushed them and wrapped her arms around her brother. Her voice was barely audible, "I'm not going to let Hook be right. I won't leave him. He needs me."
John hugged her tighter, tears rising into his eyes, "But Wendy, what about us?"
Wendy pulled away from him and smiled, "You'll be fine. You've got father and your real mother—you haven't forgotten her, have you?"
Her brother straightened the collar of his night-shirt pompously, "Certainly not." He began to describe Wendy but stopped when she shook her head. He looked down at the floor ashamed.
"It's alright, John. You'll remember when you see her, it'll all come flowing back." She turned her head towards Michael and smiled through the little boy's tears, "You'll remember everything. I'm going to be the one you forget now." She smiled again.
"Wendy..." Peter's voice was like light through darkness. The piano song was growing softer as it was drawing to a close, "We should go." He was already floating just outside the window. The girl nodded and hugged each boy and whispered hope to each boy as she tucked them in for the last time.
Wendy walked quietly over to Peter, a light breeze ruffled his sandy-brown hair. With each step she took, she left foot prints in the dust. Peter extended his hand to the dark-haired girl and pulled her into the moonlight.
"Goodbye, boys. I shall miss you. Be sure to always treat your mother kindly and don't treat father like a zero. He counts too. Remember to take your medicine." She gave Peter a nod and off they flew to Neverland hand in hand. Wendy was now a much better flyer; for now she had a much better happy thought: Spending the rest of her life with Peter Pan.
Along the way, as Wendy was coasting along on the air currents the way Peter had taught them so long ago, she turned to the boy straining slightly not to fly way ahead of the girl, "Peter...I was thinking..." She paused, searching for the right word. "Perhaps it would be a good idea to grow a few years older." She glanced over quickly and hurried on with her explanation, "What I mean to say is that it might be more proper for us if we were a trifle older." She bit her lip waiting for Peter to scream that she should just go home and grow up if she wanted to so bad.
When Peter just kept flying silently along, Wendy made a remark of the likes of Peter Pan himself. The long while that the two had spent together had made her more cunning, "To age a few years would be an awfully big adventure. You would be an even better sword fighter. You wouldn't be so startled when people betrayed your trust." You might have a better memory...Or maybe tell those redskins not to call me 'squaw'. She thought a little tartly.
A few long moments passed by before he said anything, "Okay, Wendy. We can grow—but only a few years. I still want to have fun. I refuse to be a man!"
Wendy's chocolate eyes grew round and she nodded happily, "Oh, Peter! Thank you!"
"We'll have to fit ourselves for new trees to get into the hideout below ground." He sounded a little excited about it despite his efforts to appear otherwise.
Peter held the girl while she slept, still under the impression that he never grew tired or needed sleep. They made-believed dinners together while flying, and actually made a game of the frightening experience of falling and Peter diving to catch her like the Darling's first trip to Neverland. This trip was much more fun than their first one.
When their feet touched the sweet-smelling earth of Neverland, Wendy's dress was above her knees, showing a scandalous amount of her pearly white legs and her bust had expanded and was exposed like a barmaid's about the now low neckline of the night-dress. Her hair had grown out and a little darker, almost black. Peter's leafy garments were all but falling off of him, having grown a few inches taller, toned muscle exposed everywhere. His hair was still the color of sun-bleached wood, his eyes still the color of pure spring rivers.
They stared at each other in awe.
AN: I picture them to be about 16 or so now after the change; I saw them to be about 12 or 13 before they changed. This story is going to be a combination of the book and the movie. Sorry it's so sort, this is just the introduction. R and R, man!