Disclaimer: Own nothing of Peter Pan or Walt Disney… Characters are simply used for enjoyment purposes only. No money is being made off of this.
Title: Me? Forget? Never.
Summery: Complete AU… What if Peter did come back?
Wendy sighed, bending down to pick up yet another load of dirtied linens. Her cap tilted to the side and a few strands of brown hair slipping from her once neat little bun, she was a picture of innocence.
Her back ached as she lifted the linens in the woven basket. Covered in blood, sweat and worse, the linens were her duty to scrub and clean for the next day. Wounded were still pouring in leaving little time for her to stop. Many of the linens had barely enough time to dry before they were whisked away yet again.
"Wendy?" A masculine voice called out catching her attention.
"John!" Wendy cried out in genuine surprise and pleasure. She dropped the load of linens and raced into his arms. She had been terribly worried about him. As a young lieutenant in the British army, John's life was at risk every day on the front lines.
"It's so good to see you Wendy." John said quietly in her ear, holding her tightly.
"I was so afraid." She pulled back and searched his face. "How are the other boys? Are they all alright?"
"Yes." He assured. "They are all fine, I just finished talking to them before I came here."
Her brow furrowed. "Well why are you here?"
John smiled whimsically. A smile his wife, Andrea adored. "There is a captain here, an American by the name of Peter."
Wendy sighed. "John it's not him."
John looked at her.
"He wouldn't leave his Neverland." Wendy said with a quiver in her voice. Oh how she still loved him. Nearly thirteen years had passed since they had last seen Peter Pan. The boys had all grown into young gentlemen. Wendy Moira Angela Darling had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. While many of the boys had found wives and a few even had children, Wendy found that she could never look into the eyes of any other man without thinking of Peter. Deeming it unfair to any man she would marry she put off marriage; the vow was made easier by the onset of war.
"Wendy." John said quietly. "At least look at him." His heart twisted at the look of silent pain in her eyes. How he loved his sister and how he ached at the thought of her unhappiness.
Wendy sighed. "What ward is he in?"
"Three." John said quietly. "Fifth bed from the door on your left."
Wendy nodded. "I will look after I'm done for the night."
John nodded, taking no promise from her that she would look. He knew very well that she would. If only to make sure that it truly wasn't Peter.
But this time… This time John was sure of who he saw. There was no mistaking that smile, the brilliant green eyes, and the messy hair that dared any comb to straighten it…
He had yet to tell his other brothers about Peter. Slightly, Tootles, Curly, Nibs and the twins had all received proper names, though when in private their nicknames were used.
The Darling family had grown from three to eight in seconds. Wendy Moira Angela Darling, John Geoffrey Darling, Michael James Darling, Andrew Tootles Darling, Richard Curly Darling, Patrick Nibs Darling, Devin Blake Darling and Dominic Christopher Darling.
Philip Slightly Darling, Aunt Millicent's son had grown up with the other children as well. Though many thought it strange that the old maid suddenly had a son!
All eight Darling men had enlisted in the army. Six of the seven Darling wives were involved with the army, cooking, cleaning or nursing. Wendy already trained as a nurse had been enlisted as well.
Watching his sister for another few moments, John quietly slipped out the hospital door.
As night drew on, Wendy slowly caught up on the laundry enough to be able to sneak into ward five. She smiled at the young wounded American's, but her eyes slid past each one, searching for the fifth one.
When she saw him, her breath caught. He was sleeping. His face was older, more aged than she remembered. A scar ran down his right eyebrow… Reminiscent of Hook.
It truly was Peter Pan.
Her trembling fingers lifted the chart from the end of the bed, her eyes searched for a name: Peter Andre Johnson.
Was it truly him?
He stirred, his brow furrowing. Sighing, he slowly lifted his eyes open. He blinked. Once. Twice. Then a smile appeared on his face.
He licked his lips and swallowed. "I came back." He whispered.
Wendy knelt at his side, taking his hand into hers. "It's been so long." She whispered. Her fingers brushed back a strand of hair.
"Peter Andre Johnson?" She asked teasingly. "An American?"
Peter smiled. "Proud to be one."
Wendy looked down at her lap, then up again. "I know you are tired, but promise me that when you are better you will tell me."
Peter smiled whimsically. "I am already better just looking at you." He whispered, bringing up a hand to gently tuck away a strand of golden hair. She was still as beautiful as he remembered. Her eyes were still as blue as the bright sky in Neverland, her smile still as mischievous as Tinker Bell's laugh…
His heart ached suddenly as he thought of Tinker Bell. She had found a new love, and a new home. The wedding had been every bit if not more beautiful than the one that Peter had shown Wendy so long ago now. Tink was happy, safe in her own Neverland and Peter could honor her in nothing else but to be happy for her as well.
There was no purpose for him in Neverland anymore. Children were kept at their parent's side, never out of sight for a moment. And with Hook and the rest of the pirates gone, there was little fun in Neverland alone. Not even the Mermaids would do anything with him.
So one day, he flew away. He flew back to his home. Back to where life had once been for him. He saw his two younger brothers and younger sister, but on the edge of a table in a corner, he saw himself. Or rather what he had been. A small child, held by beaming parents, and he watched as his mother went to the table and cleaned the already clean photograph. He saw her break down in tears over that photo and it was then he decided to stay in the strange home. His home. His family.
His two younger brother's names were Robert and Andrew, his little sisters name was Angela. Wary at first, his parents completely accepted him back into the family. Andrew and Angela, who were twins, accepted him immediately. Robert took a little longer, but he soon adored his older brother.
Peter went to school and later got a job. The war broke out and he and Robert enlisted. Andrew was yet to young and Angela had much to weak of a stomach to do any nursing.
Peter and Robert were shipped to England for the day that would be forever known simply as D-Day. Peter had been hit landing the beaches while Robert; a paratrooper was still at large somewhere behind the front lines.
As he quietly told of his life in America, he couldn't help but feel strange. Wendy was his only love. There was no other girl he compared to her; she was the only one that he had ever loved. Many times he had despaired of ever finding her, but now… Here… Looking up into her eyes of blue… He couldn't help but feel as if they weren't at the right place. He had lost his heart in Neverland and it seemed strange to lose it once more in a far different place.
Here in the midst of a war far more terrifying than Hook and his pirates. He gently clasped her hand. "Do you?" Peter hesitated, struggling for the right words. "Do you still love me?"
At the question, Wendy's eyes filled with tears. She choked back a sob. "I never stopped." She whispered.
As their lips met, Wendy was once more transported to Neverland… Safe in the arms of her beloved, fairies twirling beside them…
A discreet cough quickly pulled them apart, their faces flushed.
John stood there grinning, the rest of the boys behind him.
They all crowded around the bed, each wondering in the sight of their hero. 'They had all grown.' Peter thought wistfully. He had been an important part of their lives in Neverland, and it seemed horribly wrong that they had grown up without him, although it had been he that had abandoned them, not the other way around.
He listened to their proper names with a hint of sadness. He listened to their ranks and squadrons. Life was far different here in England that in America. He remembered their accents, but not the voices.
They told of their wives and children, their business, every tiny detail that Peter had missed in their lives, and it hurt Peter terribly.
Perhaps only Wendy could see how much it affected Peter for it was she who quickly shushed them and told them very primly that visiting hours were long past and that they would have to come back the next day.
They all reluctantly agreed and slowly filed out the door.
Quickly Wendy began dimming the lights and once done she quickly returned to Peter's side. She gently took his hand into hers. "I'm sorry." She whispered, careful of the other men surrounding them.
"For what?" Peter asked quietly.
"Life has changed so much here." Wendy said, tears rising in her eyes. "Nothing is as it was."
Peter sighed. "I also have changed Wendy." He squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Some for the better, some for the worse."
"But you're still you." Wendy broke in. "You may have grown into an adult, but you are still the Peter I know and love."
"Could you ever learn to live in America?" Peter asked suddenly. "Could you ever be apart from your family? Your parents?"
Wendy faltered, then looked into his eyes. "I love you." She said simply. "If I took your name, I would follow you anywhere. You would be my husband. Not my mother, not my father, not my brothers, no one could tear me apart from you."
"You would love my mother." Peter said softly. "And my family."
"I know I will." She said, laying her head to rest on his chest. "If they made you I know I will love them."
Peter smiled, a hand drifting to gently stroke the tangled blonde hair.
After years of learning to grow up he finally knew what it was to be an adult, and that it wasn't as horrible as he had first feared.
'In fact.' He thought smiling. 'It was rather nice.'
They were happily married in London with a promise to Peter's parents that they would also do another ceremony in America. Robert had been found safe and sound; while Peter's wound proved to be serious enough for him not to stay enlisted in the army. He would be given an honorable discharge and sent back home with wife in hand.
They had four children and at night Wendy would tell tales of Neverland and of Peter Pan and Captain Hook. She and Peter would watched with not a hint of sadness as their children pretended to be pirates, the lost boys, and Indians, remembering when they lived for a time in Neverland.
The tale would never die for as they watched their children grow into adults and marry, they listened as their grandchildren begged for the tale of a pirate named Hook, of the lost boys and of Peter Pan, the boy who didn't want to grow up.
()()()Epilogue()()()
The rain fell heavily to soil the already drenched ground. It had been raining for days now, ever since Peter had fallen ill. He was an old man now. Well into his nineties. Wendy was still with him, sitting faithfully by his side as the coughs wracked his lean body.
Then one dark and cloudy night, with lightening still flashing across the sky, Peter suddenly grasped Wendy's hand.
"To die." He whispered. "Would be an awfully big adventure."
Tears welled up into Wendy's blue eyes. "You won't forget me will you?" She whispered, echoing her own words so very long ago.
"Me?" Peter coughed. "Forget? Never."
Wendy tried to smile. "Will you come back?"
"To hear stories." Peter replied with a smile. "About me."
Wendy tried to hold her smile for him, but she couldn't. Sobs wracked her frail body as she laid beside him, holding him to her.
They buried him a top a tall hill overlooking a valley that looked almost like Neverland. Surrounded by children, grandchildren, two great grandchildren, and many friends Wendy laid her Peter to rest.
She lived for nearly a year, living in her memories of Neverland. And then, finally one night, she heard a laugh, a laugh that only Peter could laugh. She looked up, and there he was.
Bright green eyes laughing, teeth bared in a smile. He reached out for her hand, beckoning.
She stood, but then hesitated turning around. What would her children and grandchildren think?
"Forget them Wendy." Peter whispered. "Forget them all. Come with me where you'll never, never have to think about grown up things again."
"Never." She said with a smile, turning to face him. "Is an awfully long time."
The End