((Note: These are part of a 100 prompt challenge which I took up recently. Originally these weren't going to be linked, but slowly a story started to emerge so I just went with it. The prompt table can be found here - community./lestreasured/1733.html

And just some general notes -

- This takes place after the film, except the Jolly Roger (ship) is now back in Hook's hands just for the sake of the story I'm doing here.

- I'm not doing any dark or gothic kind of thing here, but the overall tone of these is more serious than the movie. I'm exploring a theme which was in the book a little but I'm expanding on it to create something new. You'll get what I mean when I read it. ;)

I've also set everybody's ages as follows -

Peter: 14 (I know Walt officially said 12, but Bobby Driscoll was 15 when he recorded and acted for the film and his voice has already partially broken. It'd be silly to put him any younger - or older for that matter!)
Wendy: 13
John: 11
Michael: 6
The Lost Boys: 7, the youngest - 10 the oldest. (despite in the books Peter being the youngest of all.)

Some aspects of the book will be used, like the thimble/kiss thing which was horribly left out of the film. But mainly I'll be sticking to the film-verse, like with Peter's American accent vs Wendy and the boy's British ones.

And, now, the first prompt!))


Mischievous

"Be quiet, Tink!"

He held his finger to his mouth as his brow furrowed at the small, glittering pixie, her usual tinkling seeming louder than normal to him.

Crouched, he slowly peered around the slated roof. A warm glow emitted from the window, and he could just hear the faint sound of humming, followed by the appearance of bouncing curls and puffed sleeves folding and gathering what looked to be big, white sheets.

Behind her, he saw a flash of wood and hands flying out, and a cry of "Avast, me maties!" carried out into the cool air around him.

He grinned.

With a glance to Tinkerbell he gently clasped the window ledge and hovered slightly as he moved closer.

"Now now Michael, Father won't be pleased if you take those bows."

"But they're our buried treasure!"

"Buried treasure!"

His face scrunched up as he heard her laugh. It was the kind of laugh that he thought sounded like the ones grown ups would use. Not that he remembered anything like that; but he knew he had heard the same thing somewhere before.

Suddenly he shook his head. That was just plain silly. He knew she wasn't a grown up.

"...come now, put them back in Father's dresser while he's still downstairs."

"Oh, but - "

"Go on now!"

He watched as the blue figure pushed the two smaller ones out of his view, and with a firm sound he knew she had shut the door behind them. At once the room grew silent, and he became once again horribly aware how loud Tinkerbell was next to him.

"Shh!" Clasping a hand around her hovering form he turned away from the window for a moment.

"Just be quiet for a moment, alright?" An angry glow answered him back from between his fingers but her sound was muffled now, and with a satisfied grin he peered back around at the window.

The figure had sat down on the bed closest to the window and he noticed the odd change in her features. A curious look came over his own.

She looks...sad.

He had never seen her look like that before. And then, even more curiously, he watched as she reached under the bed and retrived a small, calico doll dressed in green and brown and with an impish grin drawn onto it's face.

His eyes grew wide as his face dropped, and in his surprise his hands became unclasped. Tinkerbell at once flew out and began tinkling angrily in his ear, but he only pulled her towards him as his eyes remained on the doll in the window.

"Tink, that's me!" Forgetting to lower his voice he spoke outloud.

Inside, Wendy's head snapped up as her eyes searched the window, clutching the doll to her chest.

"P-Peter?"

But there was no reply from the window. Only a faint trail of glittering fairy dust remained, and the settling of the slates on her roof as Peter Pan flattened himself against it with a horrified look on his face.

She remembered.