Disclaimer: Peter Pan is owned by J.M. Berrie. All original characters and scenarios belong to me.

Author's Note: Okay, I know I have the habit of starting a story and not finishing it…I'm working on that habit though. All my other stories are coming along. You know what they say; slow and steady wins the race. (I highly recommend you check out my other stories by the way. ;)) So, we'll see how this one goes. It depends on if I feel I can bring the best out of me to write this for you. Alrighty, with that said, Enjoy the story. Oh, and I changed my pen name from Ozma. Just to let you know.

Only In Your Wildest Neverdreams

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Chapter One

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All children except one grow old. That child is Peter Pan. He was given the gift of everlasting life, a gift never given to anyone before him. The faeries granted him this, bringing him to their enchanted island called Never Neverland.

Never Neverland was a grand place where all the seasons were rolled into one and there was hardly any space between one adventure and the next. There were more things imaginable there, for it was the land of dreams. It was there that he was taught how to fly and the way of the faeries.

And Peter was content, for he was king. He ruled over the Lost Children and they loved him and he loved them in return. Everything was peaceful until Captain Hook sailed to the island. Peter had never seen anybody like Captain Hook and his men; he soon learned that they had grown up. He did not mind sharing his island but rather was pleased because he sensed that they brought adventure with them.

The serenity ended abruptly when Captain Hook and his men took one of the Lost Children from Peter. You see, they hated children and felt no remorse in murdering them. From then on, there was war between Captain Hook and his men and Peter and his Lost Children. This continued on for some time and Peter knew nothing else but killing and bloodshed and loss.

Nonetheless, Peter loved to have fun and he did so often. He had explored the island many a time, so he marveled in flying aimlessly in the sky. One day, he flew to a place unfamiliar to him. It scared him, for he had never seen things like what he saw there. He learned to stay out of sight and he visited many windows of the people that he discovered. They interested him.

Before entering the Other World, as he called it, he had thought that he understood everything. With this newfound knowledge that he had acquired, he spent more and more time there, watching people who intrigued him. He always brought his companion, Tinkerbell, along for she tried to explain things as best as she could.

And then he met Wendy, the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen. Peter had often listened in on the adventure stories that she told her brothers. He took her to Neverland and graced her with the magic of the island. He wanted to share everything with her and he did…except immortality. She soon wanted to return home and he granted her wish, taking a few of the Lost Children with her. He too went along. After a short time, he decided to return to Neverland.

It was not until he returned that he discovered what Wendy really meant to him. He had always loved her but before, he was too juvenile to understand what being in love was. And that was his predicament. He was in love. He was in love with someone that he could never have, for she would grow up, leaving him forever young.

Peter went back to Neverland only to find that his Lost Children were in a predicament of their own. Captain Hook had invaded and they were scattered throughout the island. After a time, he gathered all the Children left alive and together they built a new hideout. Years and years passed before Peter felt that everything was secure enough to leave the island. When he finally did, he visited Wendy.

She had grown older and had a daughter, Jane, but she was still young and beautiful and sweet. She welcomed him and he promised that he would visit at least once a year from then on. He fulfilled his promise for some time, taking Jane to Neverland, but he sensed Wendy growing old. After awhile, he stopped visiting. With great difficulty, he pushed her out of his mind and resumed his activities around the island that pleasured him so, forgetting about her completely.

One day, he did not know how much later, he remembered her. She came to him in a dream, calling to him hauntingly. Peter went to see Wendy at once, only to find a stranger. The old stranger claimed to be Wendy and he did not believe until he looked into her eyes.

Confused and hurt, Peter went back to Neverland, vowing never to travel to the Other World ever again.

Elena Rose Catalina Gonzalez was not a pleasant person. From a young age, her parents submitted to her every whim, leaving her spoiled when they died. She was twelve when she went to live with her great grandaunt in Wessex, England, whom she had never met until then.

She considered her new life awful. She was never a rebellious child and grew to be very much so seeing that her great grandaunt was not as submissive as her parents were. Her great grandaunt died two years later of a heart attack at the age of one hundred and one.

Ellie, as she was called, had not known whether to be sad. She had not allowed herself to become close to her great grandaunt, convincing herself that she despised her grandaunt. Buried underneath the feelings of hate and loathing, there were also those of caring and gratitude. If her great grandaunt had not taken her in, who would have? Ellie felt sorry about how she had treated her guardian, but she did not cry. She merely apologized to her silently at her funeral.

Soon she was moved to another relative that she did not know of: her mother's sister in London. Her aunt was a single mother and had two children of her own but was rarely home to spend time with them. Ellie immediately displayed her haughty and rebellious nature to her younger twin cousins.

Rather than yielding to Ellie's unattractive nature, her cousins turned on her, showing her that they too could be malicious. And they were, for they showed her during the times that she watched them while her aunt was gone.

She had not a friend in the world and she did not know what to do.

She was not allowed to continue to be spoiled or rebellious.

Still, she did not cry.

"And so then, we were having it off in his parent's bedroom and—"

"All three of you?" Ellie questioned incredulously, interrupting her friend Juliette.

"Yes, and—"

"You and Brent and Nicole?"

"Yes, and—"

"No, I don't want to hear anymore. That's bloody disgusting. You're only—"

"Fourteen, I know, I know," said Juliette through gritted teeth. Ellie had given her the speech a million times. "It doesn't change no matter how many times you say it, Ellie. I'm sorry to disappoint you."

Ellie just rolled her eyes. She and Juliette had the strangest friendship. Ellie still could not understand it, even after almost a year of being friends. Juliette slept around with guys and girls and she did not think about the consequences. Ellie would never disrespect herself in that way. Juliette came from an underprivileged broken home with an alcoholic father and was never spoiled a day in her life. Ellie, just getting used to having two younger children around, had to get over always having her way. She was getting better at it.

It was the oddest friendship ever. What the two had in common was that they were both socially rejected at school. Juliette, excluding her sex buddies, because of her family background and Ellie, because she had no idea how to make friends and doing so mortified her.

"Besides, Ellie. You're fourteen too."

Ellie raised her eyebrows. "You don't see me sleeping around with all of London, do you now? All at once."

"Oh, shut up, neither do I."

The laughter escaping Ellie's lips was soon replaced by a cough.

"You've had that for a while now, haven't you?" Juliette asked.

"Not very long."

It was silent and then Juliette said, "Ellie! It's freezing out here, why didn't you bring a coat with you? I told you to. We have a while before we get back to your house and—"

"I'm fine, Juliette. I felt like…like feeling cold, I guess." She smiled at her nonsense answer and her friend's concern. It was true. They had set off into town and walked and walked and walked to no specific destination. They just walked for the hell of it. Ellie loved the long walks that she and Juliette had. Even though they were surrounded in the crowded streets of London, she didn't care. That time was theirs and only theirs.

"You're weird, you know that?" Juliette remarked.

Ellie smiled. "Thank you." She coughed.

Eyebrows creasing, Juliette did not reply as they continued to walk.

Peter Pan was dreaming. This was nothing new, for he dreamt the dreams of children from the Other World almost every night. But this dream—this dream was different.

He was going through the Whispering Wood on foot. Hearing a sound behind him, he went to grab his sword, but it was not there. Instead, he took his dagger from the side of his boot and clutched it in his hand.

Before he knew it, Captain Hook was before him, leering. Peter jumped in the air, trying to fly but found that he could not. Horror struck, he saw Hook lunge at him with his long, thin sword. Before he could react, it struck him in the heart and he began to scream, trembling with pain. Hook laughed.

Peter shook awake, panting and clutching his chest where his heart was. Looking down, he saw that he had not been pierced. He jumped out of bed and used the ground to push off. Good. He could still fly. In his anxiousness, he pushed off a little too hard and hit his head against the ceiling. Rubbing his head, he looked beside the bed to find that his sword was still there.

Then, he sat down and thought about his dream. Should he tell Tinkerbell? She might have been able to comfort him. But, he wasn't sure if he felt like talking about it. He was still shaken by his dream. It had felt so real, even now that it was over.

Wendy.

The name popped into his head and before he knew it, he was tapping on the little door to Tinkerbell's apartment. It was not actually an apartment, but rather a small, old coo-coo clock that Peter had fixed for her to live in. He had stolen it on one of his adventures in Buccaneer Banor, the pirates' town.

"Tink," he whispered loudly. "Tinkerbell…Tinkerbell!"

"Oh Peter, what is it?" she demanded, angrily wiping the sleep from her eyes as she opened her door. When she spoke, it sounded much like the jangling of little bells.

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it abruptly. Tinkerbell would think that he was silly for waking her up to tell her about his dream and that he missed Wendy—

"Peter?" Tinkerbell called gently, seeing the hesitant look on his face. "Peter, what's the matter?"

"Tink, I…nothing." He turned around to go back to bed but Tink had beaten him to it. She waited for him on his pillow.

"I know when there's something the matter with you," she persisted.

"I guess you're losing your touch then, huh," he grumbled, grabbing the shirt on the floor beside his bed and hurriedly putting it over his bare torso. Instead of going back to bed, Peter climbed the stairs out of his underground hideaway.

"Where are you going?" Tinkerbell called after him. She began flying to catch up to him.

"Leave me alone, Tink. I don't need you. Not right now." He flew up the rest of the flight of stairs and did not stop until he was out of his burrow and into the night. He flew and landed on a high tree branch, far from his home. He wanted to be alone.

"I hate you," he said aloud to himself, thinking about Wendy. "I hate you. I hate you!" Peter yelled, shouting into the darkness. He remembered a long time ago when he would cry. Looking back, he thought about how painful it had been to be without her. And it still was.

Many a time he would forget all about her and his time in the Other World, going on as if none of it, or her, had ever happened. And sometimes, he would lie awake all night thinking about her and how confused he was about the emotion that he felt. It was so much easier saying that he hated her rather than that he loved her.

So he continued in his rage, fists flying, arms kicking, voice carrying, until he was left panting and lost.

And still forlorn.

Feedback is MORE than welcome. Thanks for reading.

November 10, 2002

Copyright theMuse