Thanks to all of you for the reviews and the adds, I really appreciate them! :) On with the story!
For Peter the day passed quickly, too quickly. He had been thinking ever since he left her window, the same things swirling round and round in his mind but never settling into something resembling a decision. Basically it all boiled down to one thing: stay in Neverland, alone and unhappy, or leave it all behind and walk bravely into the unknown. He was brave, he knew, but to what extent? He had only recently discovered what love was--Neverland was his whole identity. If he went to London, he would lose everything that he thought he was and become just another boy struggling both toward and away from being a man.
Not for the first time in recent memory Peter found himself longing for someone to talk to, to guide him in the right direction, but the only person who might have had any insight into his predicament was lying in defeat at the bottom of the sea. Peter could pretend to use Hook's voice, but couldn't supply the words he wanted and needed to hear. Besides that, what would Hook have said to him anyway? He couldn't imagine the man he had fought and humiliated so many times taking him aside into his cabin and sitting him down over port and cigars to give him fatherly advice. The sharp end of a hook maybe, but never advice. The Boy laughed at the thought of it, shaking the Little House where it sat among the branches.
"There is only one thing to do," he finally said, though no one was around to hear. "I must speak to Wendy." He wasn't sure if it was the right decision, but it was the only one that made sense, and he leaned back against the wall to try and catch a few hours of sleep.
Another night in her new room. Mrs. Darling had already performed the nightly rounds, tucking her children in with care and always with the hope they would still be there in the morning, but Wendy could not sleep and was again sitting at her vanity. Truth be told, she was waiting, and her window was open. The discovery of the rose on her sill that morning had sparked a tiny flame of hope that Peter might return, even if he was flying to other windows in other houses.
She knew she was taking Peter's refusal to stay harder than the others, that it had changed her from a happy, carefree girl into a sad ghost of her former self, but she needed time. He had been her first love, and at this point she felt he would be her only love. She knew her mother understood, and The Boys would understand when they were older, and though she knew it was growing up that Peter had rejected, Wendy felt that somehow it was herself and her willingness to do so. That by buying in to love and the possibility of a future she had betrayed him and his trust in her. This thought caused a fresh stream of tears to begin its course down her pretty cheeks.
"I should think you would be all out of tears by now, Wendy," a familiar voice said, and Wendy looked up to see his reflection in her mirror, real instead of imagined for once.
"It seems I have an endless supply," she replied, turning to face her window. He was there, sitting on her sill, looking tired and, it could not escape her notice, a little older. Though her heart was racing at the sight of him, she kept her voice controlled. She had to try to keep the upper hand on her heart this time.
"Can I inquire as to the nature of these tears?" Peter asked. "Or would you keep that information secret?"
"You've changed, Peter," she said softly. "You sound so different, so…" A pause, afraid to say it.
"Grown up?" he said, and laughed a strange laugh. "It's amazing how much someone can change in certain circumstances, Wendy. I can make complex observations now, draw parallels, speak with words that were once beyond the spectrum of my conversation. It's almost like I'm a different person. Why, earlier I was even longing for Hook to rise from the grave so he could give me fatherly advice!" He laughed again, but still without the gaiety his voice held in Neverland.
An awkward silence rose as Wendy failed to join in the laughter, and the tension in the room was growing unbearable.
"Wendy, I--" he began just as Wendy said "Peter, why--".
"Ladies first," he said, his heart racing. It was the strangest feeling, almost like the rush he got from flying, but with the knowledge that there was so much more at stake.
"Peter, why are you here? You made your point very clear when you left to return to Neverland."
"I wanted to see you, Wendy." He smiled a sad little half-smile. "I missed you."
"I missed you too, Peter, but I can't stand seeing you and knowing that at the end of the night you're just going to fly away again, leaving me here longing for Neverland and for you, to be near you."
"Then be near me, Wendy," he said, his voice husky.
"Peter, don't you understand? I want to grow up. I want to get married and have children and a home, and if I go back with you none of that will ever happen. I'm getting too far past the point where thinking Neverland would ever take the place of living a real life, because as much fun as it sounds, it's not real. Every day is the same, and you are so mindless of everything and everyone around you. I want to have a life, Peter, a real life." Her eyes were angry, but her face was just sad.
Peter slipped inside her room and walked over to her, tentatively taking her hand. "But Wendy, I'm scared."
Author's Note: Sorry it was another pretty short chapter, but once I wrote that last sentence, I felt it was a natural place for me to stop. I'm going to try to update a few more times this week, but I'm pretty busy with other writing and RL, so bear with me. Thanks!
Beth
