Inspirited by Berry's original novel mostly. Perhaps a little bit by the 2003 film version as well.
I doubt my darker melodramatic style would be suitable for a traditional (Disney) children's film. Other than that however, I give many thanks to my fellow authors and readers!
Introduction: Between Awaking and Slumber
Wendy knew it was easy to be awake day to day.
And she found it even easier to sink into sleep when shutting her eyes by nightfall.
Although Wendy, held the rare gift of bing able to stretch out to that certain place—the between place right amid reality and fantasy. That place where immortality and mortality intersect their boundaries. The very place where dreams are created and hopes are born.
It's quite true that Wendy's innate devotion to her mother and father had pulled her back to London's village. However once or twice—or depending on the current moon cylcle and star positions—thrice a week, Wendy's mind's eye glimpsed deeper into her soul, where all of her youthful wishes and her earnest desire were harbored away.
Some of these dreams which Wendy had grown accustomed to having had not been be all too pleasant. In fact, a few fit the description of what her mother called insufferable nightmares—while the rest of them on the other hand, were just barely enough to briefly mollify that sense of pent-up longing.
A small part of her heart had, and always will remain there in Neverland.
And they say that distinctive places have their ways of imprinting their charm on a person's heart indeed.
Dreamscape I: Pagan Roots
He is the Pan.
He is the chosen guardian of this Never Never forest, the lord of the sunlit heavens, and he is bound together by the change of seasons. Many, who dwelled within the island, worship the Pan. For those who do not care for the Pan still respect him on one level or another since his inner power cannot be simply overlooked.
Such a glorious title, Wendy had always thought. But she also supposed how tiring it could be. Even if Peter's eternal pride would never allow him to admit, she's a little sad to know he must carry this burden alone. To be so divine seemed so lonely at times.
But in this dream, her waking worries do not matter. Because Wendy sees herself there too, running serenely through the winding ancient trees. Her flowing darkened curls are decorated with the seashell comb that Peter gave her some time ago, and long feathers of a horned owl. Her bare form is shielded with a light cloak made of gathered flower petals and shimmering cobwebs.
The rising moon quietly sings her a lullaby from afar, and the slow currents of Crocodile Creek elevate into swirls and begin to dance once she approaches to brush her loving hand over their fluid bodies.
Peter's reflection soon appears on the water's surface of her as well. Their eyes meet, then he smiles knowingly at her. He starts to play his pipe merrily and the alluring melody brings forth the flashes of lily faeries and the faint chortles of river nymphs.
And this is where Wendy would remain, beside the Pan, being his traditional Lady of the Woods as their own kingdom endlessly revolves round and round.
Dreamscape II: From Dust to Ash
Wendy strolls into the emerald sun-streamed clearing, and soon stops to observe the sight before her in total awe.
Peter stands rather patiently and calmly waiting for her, right behind the short, round and cleanly-cut tree stump that they use for a table.
And on its flat oak surface lays Tinkerbelle, presently limp and dark grey, with her wings tattered and twisted at peculiar angles. Her faerie dust is nothing but patches of common ash around her now.
"Oh, Peter...," she begins sofly. "What have you done? She was your shoulder faerie."
Peter lifts his head to her. "She said I had to make the choice. Or she would have made you leave me."
Wendy stared, horrified.
She thinks his prior actions were bitter.
But...the sentiment underneath it all was oddly sweet.
Dreamscape III: The Lagoon Experience
Sometimes Wendy dreams of the man Peter could have been, but simply wouldn't.
It was exceedingly secluded here, this lagoon pool that Peter had shown her to. The trees in this part of the jungle were taller, the cliffs wider, and altogether the scenery acted as their guardians of privacy. The present air which shrouded the small area was exotic and crisp.
They both seemed more mature in this fantasy—still rather young—but surely Peter is old enough to make his boyish muscles that he earns from wrestling with Lost Boys look firmer, his torso a little longer, his shoulders a bit bolder, and the flesh scars he's gained from pirate blades are actually faded out with time.
His tunic, belt and dagger, were thrown into a heap on a nearby rock before he had waded to the deeper waters. He then had gone under once to cool himself, and moved back up to the surface to face her.
The water's level is now up against his ribcage.
And for once he is entirely contrite with her. He did not order to her shower him with her attention like usual, and he did not command her to "just do, don't think. Planning is for grownups."
He has not even said one word.
It was as if he knew he shouldn't pressure her about this. This...is a near-forbidden decision. He senses he must let her to take the first step on her own.
But locking her pensive gaze with his handsome blue eyes, Wendy eventually strips and ventures from the shoreline into the clear blue water, drawing closer and closer to him. When she was in range, Peter's arm carefully reachs for her in attempt to aid her to make certain that the muck beneath wouldn't fault her footing.
Never had Wendy thought Peter to be so brave: for claiming to be the idol for everlasting youth, Peter and she were brave as they treaded onto the path of an adult adventure.
Dreamscape IV: An Aggressive Invocation
In additional cases, Wendy watches a vision of her present self, robed in her usual nightdress, creep up to her mother's vanity station.
There is an air of particular apprehension hovering around her. Judging by how hard her heart had been pounding all along, Wendy figures it must have been the fact that she is entering into the empty master bedroom without her parents' consent.
Though when she finally reaches the cushioned stool, Wendy yearningly surveys her mother's elegant collection of perfume bottles, vials of bath oils, and skin powders. But then—she spots a cylinder of lipstick standing alone in the corner. It's dyed a deep red.
The lingering fear of being caught snooping around vanishes quickly as her fingertips make contact with the golden tube, and immediately it is replaced with an alien aggressive feeling. Gazing steadily into the mirror now, Wendy sees her own rich auburn eyes turn steely and her jaw growing taut. Astonishingly, her temper seems to be getting the better of her. For someone who has always been genuinely kindhearted, Wendy's current expression in fact, looked positively menacing.
Then, she experiments for moment.
Slowly drawing the red coloring to her cheek, Wendy traces Piccaninny Tribal markings upon her face—the ones she remembers Tiger Lily wearing as Chief Great Big Little Panther's daughter.
"How could he leave me at the window like that? Why could he not stay? Is undergoing the natural pattern of mortal life that revolting...? Pan, you are really a coward!"
Wendy's very soul is stirring from within and it screams from the pure ache of recalling Peter's last words to her...
If he would not be her very-likely future husband, then she would force him to face her again. Even if she meant her playing the role of the occasional rival.
"I now am now Warrior." Wendy proclaims steadily and bravely into the warm magical airstreams which began to loop around her figure. "Come and get me if you so dare, Peter Pan."
Dreamscape V: Waltz of the Lightfolk
Wendy asks Peter to dance with her after she's seen the faeries collect together in the meadow not far off, for a late-night reel. At first, he only leers towards her in return, uninspired by the notion, and he bluntly declines... Then of course, all it really takes for Peter to suddenly comply is watching another glossy-winged chap their size approaching them, requesting for Wendy's company.
"Actually, the Wendy Bird has demanded me to be her escort," Peter says, stepping forward, and he waves his hand leisurely in dismissal. "You may return to your post, Jet Stone."
The darker skinned faerie blinks once in surprise, but bows in his respects for the Pan all the same. Jet Stone pecks Wendy's hand he is yet holding and turns away. A bit offended afterwards, Wendy is about to scold Peter for his minor rudeness, however, Peter just offers a pleasant grin and all is soon forgotten.
Orderly lines of firefly bugs become their lanterns as the two advance in the taller grasses to stand in the center of the reel.
And before long Peter raises them up high to waltz against the full moon.
Dreamscape VI: A Shadow of Eve
Her brothers and the rest of the boys had all convinced her parents to hold a picnic in the park after Sunday mass. Thus right after church let out, all of the Darlings large and small, had then made their way over to the public gardens for a pond-side banquet.
Although it surely hadn't taken long for the boys to get caught up of a typical game of "soldiers and thieves."
To delight them initially, Wendy had volunteered to be the nurse awaiting to tend to any imaginary wounds.
But she becomes distracted by an eerie unnamed presence, riding on the midday summer breeze. "Weeendy..."
Wendy pretends not to perceive the whisper. She tells herself, "Certainly it must be nothing."
But eventually she strays out of sight, unable to resist her curiosity and the luring manner the voice is using. "...Wendy..."
The hushed tone leads her deeper through the nearby forest, straight into a secret clearing. And at the center of this clearing, stands a small and single tree set apart from the others. When Wendy draws closer she realizes it is in fact an apple tree. Its red fruit hanging gracefully from the crooked branches, appears unscathed and very ripe. "Wendy."
Is it the tree itself that is speaking, or is it a magical spirit inhabiting its lean trunk, summoning her? Wendy didn't really know.
Could be it...Peter? Wendy almost weeps out at the mere thought, but she restrains her emotions well enough.
However, something now moves higher within the leaves once it senses her interest has increased. And the figure which coils himself down just a bit further to greet her is definitely not her Peter Pan.
"Hello, Wendy," the animal hisses quite charmingly. His back scales glisten while he slides about and his forked tongue flickers out to smell her level of fear.
"What would a talking snake want with me?" The little maiden's words are as innocent as ever, and she tries her best to overlook his beastly face.
"In truth, child, I should be asssking what you wish from meee?"
"I'm afraid, sir, that I don't understand."
"You weeere the one who had called me into thisss world," the black racer replied, "and I have now come to answer you."
"But I do not remember addressing a snake."
"At rare times...a summoning starts deep within the heart and caaan be even unheard by the one who doessss the summoning. I am here to award you a wish...that is, if you so choose it."
"I thought wish-granters were only faeries." said Wendy, amused.
The racer shakes his narrow head. "No, there are still older onesss lurking about that have the power...you should such of things after reading ssso many storiesss..."
Wendy currently grows more cautious since the air has changed and it makes her stomach churn hearing this. He was being too complex for her tastes. She never had trusted common riddlers much. "...Mother has always told me I shouldn't ask for benefits unless I have something to equal to offer in return."
"I would say your mother isss a very wissse woman. Because that isss how it usually must work."
"What do I wish for?" Wendy questioned him, "Then what I would a give you? I doubt I own anything a snake would need."
"Thhhink." He urged her on almost gleefully. With this, Wendy watches his pointed tail jab at the nearest apple and on instinct she raises her hands to catch it. Oh, how enticing it really does look, firm and a temping crimson color. "Think real hard, my child. Look into the deep inside yourssself."
As Wendy peers upon the apple's glossy peel, she becomes amazed to see Peter's trademark charming and cocky expression looking up to her too. She whirls back round, but the real Peter is nowhere to be seen, and her hopes are lost once again.
The black racer continues when he sees her young mind reeling to connect the final few remaining pieces together. It is soon clear that she finally understands his purpose for being here and the price it costs. He decided to console her new worries by mentioning further, "You love your family with not one ssshadow of a doubt...but your inmost wish ssshall only devour you in the end. Will you live in regret?"
"It would be so nice to see him again." Wendy stated through a wistful voice. "Even if it was for a short while."
"Therefore...do we have an agreement, my child?"
Wendy knows better than this. She knows she should step away and run for help, but her own feet do not allow her to do so. She knows she wants Peter as well.
"How must we make the pact true, sir?"
His black snout moves in to nuzzle the fruit in her hold, pushing it against to her gentle pink lips. "Jussst one bit will do, my dear child."
"Thank you." Wendy forces herself to remain genuine even beneath her persistent hesitation.
He chuckles and hisses his farewell. "No, Wendy...thhhank you."
Once he departs from the scene, Wendy breathes in and exhales with concentration. And at last, her mouth parts and her teeth sink into the apple. As thunder begins to rumble menacingly high above, Wendy simply closes her eyes to savor the sweet flavor while its natural juices flow down over her fingers.
"—Wendy?"
She reopens her eyes when Peter's puzzled voice breaks her out of the trance. The sun is out and this forest is much more familiar to her. Gently walking in his direction, Wendy drops the apple on the way, and she greets him with a contented smile. "I thought it would be a lovely day to spend in Neverland."
Peter is not sure how he should feel. Rarely does he feel so many sentiments at one time. "Wendy, how...how is it that you are here in Neverland, and not in the house at Number 14?"
"I have come to see you, Peter, obviously."
"Yes," he has gathered as much. "But I did not send a faerie guide to fetch you. Who had brought you here?"
Wendy leans in to speak quitely, and Peter conforms by mirroring her action. "Peter, will keep it a secret? For me?"
Peter murmurs in reply, "Of course, Wendy."
Words hold authority. And names hold magic. Certain things are not meant to be said aloud—for one can never really know what they may awake from the depths of the ancient times and beyond—certain things can even set faeries on edge.
Eventually Wendy hands over her secret to Peter so he can keep it safe. And fortunately...or unfortunately, he's all too willing to take it.
"It was a demon."
Dreamscape VII: A Long Tail Since Told
The island's central lagoon is known to be the sanctuary for a vast pod of mermaids. Though despite the fact that they fluctuate in their physical appearances—from girlish doll-like faces to more ripe seductive features—and from flowing yellow strands to flaming red curls—the mermaids as a whole, still share the similar hedonistic and frisky nature.
In this fantasy, Wendy recognizes she isn't all quite human. If she happens to look down into the water at any given moment, she always sees her swaying turquoise fishtail in place of her normal mortal feet.
But her sisters tends to ignore her anyways. They leave her out of the loop most of the time and swim ahead of her without another care in the world.
They react poorly towards Wendy because whenever they pull themselves up to bask upon the coral ledges on occasion, the Pan may stop in for any wanted news regarding the Jolly Roger's latest activity. And he always flies to her first to say hello.
Dreamscape VIII: Spiteful True Love
Wendy had heard many adults talk about "Cupid's golden arrows," and how marvelous love can truthfully be.
Wendy had also overheard adults talk about the supposedly "poisoned led arrows."
They said that a person would unfortunately feel love's vile sting at least once in their life. But a few couple of them have told her that she wouldn't have to worry yet. She's still quite young.
Although these events had not convince her of this:
Peter leans in, eyes closed. Wendy's face burns red as she watches his puckered lips move nearer to her own.
Wendy knows this the part when she should close her eyes too. Her mother had always shut hers when kissing their father.
But once she does this, she cannot notice Peter peek at her. And then he smirks in his triumph. "Trivial Wendy."
Speechless, she refocuses on him to observe Peter soaring off back towards the hollowed tree.
"Peter, you silly ass!" Wendy plays against him stridently.
It becomes clear that Peter Pan would forever be the boy who's virtually in reach, but is so uncatchable all the same.
Closing: Lasting Impressions
Upon each and single morning, Wendy would wake, and depending on the mood of the dream, she would feel either slightly unsatisfied or just mentally exhausted.
She continuously liked to prefer the idea of the actual living Peter Pan had something to do with the highly realistic element of her nighly visions. As if he causing her to dream such things for he was feeling likewise. Because if she did this, it meant that he hadn't forgotten her.
...Though shortly after turning nineteen, Wendy and her chosen gentleman caller were wed. And together, they assembled a lovely home and a respectable family name in England's main society.
Never once did Wendy inform her husband of the facts behind her stories which she passed down to their daughter. As charming and thoughtful as he came, her husband was a common skeptic when it to tangible magic. But that was the single detail that she ever hid away from her husband.
Just as long as Jane trusted in the truth that reflected within Wendy's eyes, the windows of their house would never be closed.
Wendy, now a widow, was the one who lived long enough to meet the next generation due to the previous war. She was very proud to call all seven of the newest descendants her grandchildren. Two of them in which had possessed the names Wendy and Peter.
And so, the family tradition of telling oral bedside stories prevailed. All future offspring linked back to Wendy would carry Neverland's legend on and on and on.