My first Peter Pan story! So please, take it easy. I'm still trying to adjust to the characters. ;3

Enjoy!

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Peter Pan is a free spirit and is owned by no one. ...Well, in this case J.M. Barrie in Disney. But you know what I mean. ;)

Title: Mothers or Not…

Written: 3/4/12

The night was silent. It was a full moon, and the stars shone brightly down upon London.

The Darling household was just as equally quiet as the rest of the city; young Daniel was cuddled up with Nana Two, and the adults were slumbering peacefully in their own room.

However, unbeknownst to all, a small set of hands tugged gently on Jane's bedroom windows. After a few moments, the windows opened, and a boy no older than fourteen stepped through the sill to the cushioned seat without a sound. He glanced around the room cautiously, before taking a small step forward, only to tumble to the ground with a yelp as he tripped and landed on the floor with a loud thump.

Muttering curses furiously in Fey, he rubbed his head and turned to glare at the offending object. However, when his gaze landed on the old and worn Peter Pan doll, his face fell as the events from earlier crashed down upon him. His bottom lip trembled, and within moments, he slid to the floor and began to softly cry, one arm coming up to cover his face in a futile attempt to muffle his sobs. Is this what had finally become of the mighty Peter Pan? A weak, sobbing mess? It disgusted him, this weakness, but at the moment, he really could care less.

Unknown to him, Wendy Darling had been awake and reading at the point of his entry. She had had a bad feeling for the past few hours, and before she had gone to bed. It was like a nervous flutter in her stomach, but for what reason, she wasn't sure. She had tossed and turned for a while, before finally resorting to an old favorite to help calm her.

When she heard the thump from Jane's room, she looked up sharply from the pages in the direction of her daughter's room. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern as she marked her page and crawled quietly out of bed. On the way to the room, she grabbed a broom from the hallway closet. Though the Darlings weren't incredibly rich, they weren't too bad as far as money went. So a burglary wasn't impossible. Better to be safe than sorry.

She tip-toed towards the door. She took a deep breath, before inching her hand forward and slowly turning the knob, her other hand tightening on the broom. However, she paused when she heard a muffled sob come from behind the door. Jane was at a friend's house tonight, so who in the world…? Carefully, she pushed the door open a smidge before peering around the edge, her eyes widening in realization and shock a few seconds later.

"…Peter?" she whispered in surprise. He was the last person she would have expected to see right now.

The young boy didn't hear her though, and remained sprawled across the floor, crying into the crook of his elbow.

"Oh, Peter…" the broom clattered to the floor and she rushed forwards. However, at the sudden sound of the broom hitting the ground, his head shot up, eyes red and face wet with tears, as his hand flew to his dagger. The woman paused, so as not to spook him further and took in his appearance. His reddish-brown hair was ratted and matted to his forehead, his clothes torn and singed, a cut on his temple was still slowly bleeding, as were numerous other scratches on his arms and legs, some worse than others. She then quickly covered the short distance to his side and sunk to her knees, wringing her hands unable to decide what to do, before resulting to laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

At the familiar voice and gentle touch, Peter turned his head away again and began trying to furiously wipe the tears away. He couldn't let her see him like this! However, the tears continued, and he curled into a ball to block Wendy's view of his face.

"'M fine," he muttered hoarsely, attempting to reassure her, but failed miserably.

"No Peter, you're not," she said softly, brushing a few stray pieces of hair out of his face. "Please, tell me what's wrong?"

The boy sniffled again, subconsciously relaxing at her gentle touch. He carefully pushed himself into a sitting position, hissing in pain as a sharp pain flared up his arm. He then shook his head stubbornly, glaring at the doll house in the corner of the room. "I don't…I…I can't…" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to remember what exactly had been said to him. He wrung his hat in his hands nervously, clutching it to his chest, as it was the only thing to cling to at the moment. It was his lifeline to Neverland, to everything that happened, including earlier…

Wendy noticed his confusion, and continued to run her hand through his unruly locks in comfort. "Whatever it is Peter, I'm sure it'll be alright. Just take your time and-"

"No, it's not going to be alright!" he cried out suddenly, hands clenching around his cap so tightly his knuckles turned white. He whirled towards the woman, his old friend, his voice increasing as he continued. "Hook was right! I'm stupid! What kind of person am I that I can't even remember my own mother?"

At this, his eyes widened in remembrance, while Wendy's face saddened at the youth's predicament. She gathered him up in her arms as he began to cry once again. He resisted for a few moments, before surrendering into her embrace.

"Peter-"

"You'll never understand," he sobbed into her shoulder, cutting her off. "You can't. You know what it's like to have a mother… you can remember! I can't! I can't even remember if I even had a mother!" he wailed, clutching her nightgown for dear life, pressing his face harder into the folds of the cloth. All Wendy could do at the moment was rub his back soothingly and hold him to her, just as a mother would, and mutter soft reassurances and nonsense into his small pointed ears.

"Was I even ever wanted, or loved? I-"

"Peter!" Wendy said sternly, catching the boy's attention. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from her shoulder so she could look at him. However, he continued to stare at the ground dejectedly, sniffing in misery. She sighed and her face softened in sadness. "Peter, please look at me." He gave a small shake of his head in response, so she placed her hand under his chin and forced him to look up at her, his eyes haunted and agonized at his thoughts. "Peter…" she said again, softer this time, suddenly unsure of where to begin. She wiped away a few stray tears before continuing. "Boy, mothers or not, we're all loved," she said with a gentle smile, brushing his hair aside once more. "Either by parents, or siblings, or friends. It's all in here," she stated, placing her hand above his heart. "The Lost Boys love you, Jane and Danny love you, I love you," she said, tapping his nose. A small flush rapidly spread across his cheeks and she chuckled lightly. "And I am absolutely certain that your mother, wherever she is now, loves you too."

Peter sniffed and glanced up at her hopefully. "Promise?" he asked uncertainly, holding up his pinkie.

Wendy smiled, before wrapping her pinkie around his. "Promise." She replied. He leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his ear to her heart. He closed his eyes with a soft sigh as a small smile graced his features, and within minutes he was asleep, Wendy following close behind.

Edward was rudely awakened by a strangled scream from down the hallway. His eyes shot open and he dashed out of bed, mind immediately thinking the worst, and forgetting the fact that Jane wasn't home. He barely noticed the broom on the floor, and that her door was cracked open. He was awake enough now to remember that her door had been shut when he went to bed, and that that broom had most certainly not been there. He snatched it up, fully prepared to use it and burst through his daughter's door, only to come to a screeching halt at the sight of his wife tightly clutching a strange boy clad in green to her chest. He watched in shock as the scene unfolded.

The boy's face was scrunched up as if in pain, and his mouth formed words so jumbled that neither he nor his wife could understand. They were able to catch the bit that followed though:

"No…Father, I didn't…Mother…no…can't…stop! Hurt…Dad- no! MOMMY!" his voice rose to a shout and his fists clenched Wendy's nightgown. "Please! Daddy STOP! Mommy didn't…no, PLEASE!" Tears were now streaming down his cheeks once more, and he had curled into a ball as if to protect himself as he yelped. And no matter how much Wendy tried to get him to wake up, he would not wake from his wretched dream, and the adults were left to just watch on uselessly. "NO! Mommy, please! Come back! COME BACK! MOMMYYY!" Sobs wracked his small form as Wendy wrapped her arms around him protectively, pressing a kiss to his hair as her own tears fell for the fourteen year old boy. She caught sight of Edward, standing there shell-shocked at what had just happened in front of him, and the broom hanging limply in his hand at his side.

"Edward," she called softly, but he didn't seem to hear her, and just continued to stare at the haunted stranger. "Edward." She said more firmly, finally catching his attention. "Would you go make sure Danny's okay? If he's awake, keep him in his room, and tell him I'll be in as soon as I can." Catching his questioning gaze at the boy, she said, "I'll explain later. I promise." Her husband then nodded numbly, sparing another shocked glance at the boy, before turning and leaving the room.

Wendy's face softened in concern as she focused her attention back on Peter. She rubbed his back gently and shushed him, and even hummed a few lullabies to help him calm down. After a while, his sobs reduced to whimpers and a shaky breath, before eventually calming as he melted into her embrace. She continued to whisper reassuredly to him for quite some time after that. Finally, his eyes opened and he stared at her blearily.

"…M-Mommy?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice dry and scratchy from crying.

"Shhh. It's alright, I'm here," she responded gently, running her hand through his hair, knowing that he wasn't fully awake.

"I…I love you," he breathed, eyes slipping shut again.

"I love you too, dear. And I'll always be here for you whenever you need me."

When Wendy woke up, she was leaning against the window seat, where she had been comforting Peter last night…

At the thought of Peter, her eyes flashed open, and she discovered that she was covered in a blanket, Jane's Pan doll lying next to her. She turned towards the open window and watched as the sky began to color from the light of the sun, but the two most noticed stars still shone, the one on the right shining the brightest. She smiled softly and situated herself so she was comfy, before closing her eyes for a few more hours, knowing that back in Neverland, Peter was feeling much better than he had been feeling the night before, and that he always had someone he could come back to, people he loved…

…and knew that his mother would always be there for him, both in his heart, and through Wendy.

So the ending is kinda corny...But I live in Iowa, so that's to be expected. ;D Lol, just kidding. x3

Like I said, I'm still trying to adjust to the characters, so I know they're a little OOC here...Plus I was up writing this from about 12-2 in the morning, so you can see why it'd be a bit off. xD

For my TLWOH readers: Yes, I am still working on it, and I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long. January and February were crazy busy. I have a few projects left, and then hopefully I'll be able to figure out how to start chapter 5. I have all of it written...except the beginning. *facepalm* There will be an AN explaining more later.

Gotta fly!

~Lyssie212