PETER'S POV
There was no way I was letting Wendy get away so easily. She had so effortlessly opened my chest with her pale fingers to take out my beating heart, only to carelessly pocket it into her faded jeans, shrugging indifferently all the while.
She had forced me to grow up, despite myself, with her scornful manner and contemptuous eyes, laughing at my childishness. So I had changed for her. I had gone out of my way to save her countless times, banishing any thoughts of cowardice for her. I had done all of this so that she would look at me in awe. So that she would love me.
And her parents just expected her to leave?
I, Peter Pan, would never allow such a calamity.
"You're hurting my hand," Wendy complained, pulling me from my thoughts.
I glanced over my shoulder at her. Wendy's mouth was set in the pout I loved so much. Now who was the child? I couldn't help but smile to myself because I was pulling her along as if she were a disobedient ankle-biter in a grocery store.
Sighing, I loosened my grip on her fingers and slowed to a stop. I allowed her to catch her breath as I impatiently glanced down the stairwell for her parents. We hadn't taken the elevator because the Darlings would have seen that we were going up to the top floor, rather than to the lobby. Plus, we wouldn't come across many people taking the stairs.
Wendy sagged against the wall, her light brown hair clinging to her sweaty brow. She wiped her face with her sleeve and gave me a weary look. "I don't think this is a good idea," she told me with a twisted frown. "As charming as your description of Neverland sounds, it's no place for me. Besides, you said before you wouldn't be able to get back."
"If Chief Bigby was able to get there with Tiger Lily," I said stubbornly, "then I'll be able to get there with you too."
"Peter," Wendy said slowly, "this is pointless. How am I supposed to know that this place even exists?"
"I told you it exists," I said, trying to keep the annoyance from my voice. "Don't you believe me? It's beautiful, I promise you. There are mermaids and fairies and-"
"I don't believe in fairies," said Wendy shortly, cutting me off.
I fell silent. I knew Wendy couldn't have possibly known that her words were an immediate death sentence to one of those fragile beings back in Neverland. It was useless explaining this to her because it seemed as if she had been drained of all of her imagination.
"Don't you see?" I told her in despair. "You've already left behind your childhood without a moment's thought. Don't you want it back? I can help you, Wendy. Please let me help you." I didn't like begging, but just as Wendy had lost her imagination, I was beginning to lose my pride.
"This is ridiculous, Peter," she told me snappishly. "I'm tired of running. I want to go back."
Did she mean that literally or figuratively?
"I can take you back," I assured her. "You won't have to worry anymore, trust me."
"You know what I mean," she said, rolling her eyes. "I want to go back to my family. I may be furious with them, but I can't just abandon them. I'm not like you, Peter."
I winced, as if she had physically struck me. Wendy, of course, was referring to the times I had abandoned my friends, whether it be Hook or the lost boys. She was right, of course, but I wasn't giving up so quickly.
"So we won't stay in Neverland forever," I compromised, "but we can at least be together a little longer."
"Together?" Wendy questioned with mirthless laughter. "Peter, we were never really together to begin with. We are two very different people, and I'm having trouble keeping up with you. Do you really think of us as a couple?"
"We fight like a couple," I told her, which earned me a smile. I loved it when she smiled. It was such an improvement from her derision.
"No, seriously," she said, trying to pocket her smile just as she did my heart. "Why is this so important to you?"
I meant to tell her when we arrived in Neverland.
I meant to tell her in some romantic lagoon with the gentle waves lapping at our feet.
I meant to tell her somewhere, anywhere, but in an empty stairwell of an apartment building.
But I told her anyways.
"Because I love you," I said.
Wendy blinked at me as if I had just grown an extra head. "You what?" she spluttered, as if she hadn't heard me.
Did she really want me to say those accursed words again? I opened my mouth to tell her, once more, that I loved her. She held up her hand to stop me.
"You can't possibly love me," she told me defiantly, after having recovered.
I gave her a small, supercilious smile. "I've been around a lot longer than you have," I pointed out, "so I'm pretty sure I know whether or not I love someone." My smile drooped slightly as I paused to think. Why had she denied the declarative statement of my affections? Well, there could only be one answer to that. "You don't love me," I clarified.
She hesitated. "Peter," she said slowly, "we've been through an awful lot together…"
This time I held up my own hand to silence her. "Say no more, Wendy," I told her. "I understand. I merely hoped…" I trailed off. Words were useless at this point. I shrugged carelessly as if it really meant nothing to me.
But she saw through my lie.
Her eyes seemed to lose their iciness and they looked at me sympathetically.
Oh, how I desired her mockery over her pity. Her scorn over her sympathy.
I turned away to hide my face, gripping the cold handrail with my pale hands. I gritted my teeth and said, "Wendy, I love you so much it'd make me want to turn my back on Neverland all over again."
I was greeted by her silence and I was too cowardly to turn around and look at her. I took this as a sign to keep talking. "You're a curse, you know that? Everything about you. First I think you hate me but just when you start to like me, you hate me again. You're destroying me, Wendy, and you don't even seem to care." This time, I couldn't keep my anger under control.
Anger gave me strength.
I looked over my shoulder at her. She was pressed against the wall, as if she were frightened of me. Her eyes were glued on mine and her mouth was twisted into a small frown.
Finally, she seemed to find her words. "I don't hate you, Peter."
Well, that's the closest thing to love that I'd ever get from her. I grunted and turned away from her again.
"I do like you, Peter. I…I just think this is a bad idea. Maybe me moving to London is a good move for the both of us." She paused, leaving a deadly silence, before saying, "Besides, you think of me as a curse after all."
I could hear the hurt in her voice, which calmed me. Exhaling my anger, I said, "You know I didn't mean that."
Wendy was suddenly right next to me, lifting my chin with her cool finger. She smiled, though there was no joy in her eyes. She looked…sad. "I think you did," she said softly. "And I think that should tell you something." She grabbed my hand. "I want you to take me to Neverland," she said and she started pulling me up the stairs again. "And we can say goodbye from there, and you can go on living like you did."
I bowed my head unhappily. Did she think it would be that easy? That I'd be able to let her go as if she had never existed? I shook my hand out of hers.
She spun around, looking injured. "What? Now you don't want to go? I thought you loved me." Her sudden smile was teasing and playful, but I saw the manipulation beneath it. She was playing me as if I were a marionette and she were my master, plucking my strings as she would a guitar.
Had she no shame? Or perhaps she unknowingly treated me like an ugly doll that one would come to play with only to torture when bored. Perhaps there was really just air behind her intelligent eyes and perhaps I read too far into her soul, when in reality, there was nothing there. Nothing but emptiness.
However, my feet involuntarily followed her up the stairs, despite my growing sense of dread. Her hand was back in mine and a smile was back on her face.
Yes, I would take her to Neverland, but one thing remained absolutely certain…
Wendy did not love me.
--
WENDY'S POV
I felt horrible. Even the prospect of visiting some far-off utopia couldn't ease my troubles. How could I allow Peter to love me when I was about to move halfway across the world?
He could come with you, the voice in the back of my mind whispered. He would, if you told him to.
What about the lost boys? I argued. I'm not going to make him leave his only family for me. After all, I couldn't leave my family for him.
Ah, but he loves you, Wendy, the voice reminded me slyly. He said so himself. He would turn his back on Neverland, on his whole world, just for you.
But I wouldn't do the same for him, I thought miserably. His hand felt fake in mine. I felt fake.
The guilt weighed heavily on my heart as I continued to pull Peter up the stairs behind me. Why was I doing this? Why had I agreed to go with him to Neverland when I knew it would only make it harder on him? On myself?
We were on the roof before I knew it, and I looked up into the darkened sky. There were no stars out tonight. Instead, there were heavy rain clouds and I could smell the dampness in the air.
Peter tugged on my hand to let me know that we had to go to the edge of the building. Looking down on the busy street below made me feel dizzy. "Are you ready?" he croaked. I could hear the sorrow in his voice and I flushed with shame.
"What do I do?" I asked, feeling my palms sweating.
I could feel his nose touching my ear lightly. "You think of a wonderful thought," he whispered, as if lowering his voice could disguise his pain.
"Then what?" I asked nervously.
"Then we fly," he said, smiling into my neck.
His hand tightened in mine.
It was strange, because even though I had the impression that we were falling to our deaths, we somehow seemed to tear through clouds and whisk past stars. Stranger yet, there was only one "wonderful" thing that came to mind before he yanked me after him towards Neverland.
And that was Peter.
--
A/N: Yes, this chapter was short in comparison to some others, but at least I didn't wait a year to update. So be happy. Hmph. (And review : D)
