And it Begins (part 3 of 'My Brave Wendy')
by Isabelle
Disclaimers: The rights to the film and book "Peter Pan/Peter Pan and Wendy" do not belong to me, this is just done for entertainment. Chapter Disclaimers:
Rating: PG-15 (for adult themes and mild sexual references)
Feedback: isabelle@komodo-skin.com
Archiving: It's a requirement that I have that you ask me before posting any of my written work. Thank you.
Summary: This is a work of fiction based on the 2003 film "Peter Pan", it is centered, like the film around Peter & Wendy's relationship, just so you know. Basically the whole "never saw each other again" is out the window and for the purposes of the fiction they did.
Setting: This happens 1 year after Peter last saw Wendy, she's now been sent to a boarding school in Switzerland with her parent's new found fortune, but it's nothing like the place they thought it to be, as WWI is in it's starting stages there's fear all around and she's left without adult supervision along with some of her boarding school girls to find a way home and hoping that a certain first love will find her.
Spoilers: The film, it'll spoil you if you have not seen the film!!
Appreciation: Special thanks to Rogue, who is my dedicated beta—thank you, girl!
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They say there isn't a place too deep or too far that can keep you away from those you love; that you can feel them, feel their very soul until it's simply an extension of yours. Feeling as such has no explanation, chemical equations or air of hypocrisy; it simply feels therefore it's real. Matters not the age.
Peter knew she was not dead. The reason he knew it was because if she were gone he would also be gone. She was him and he was her, and like a fairy who dies from lack of belief he would fade from lack of Wendy.
He was very much still solid. Worried, yes he was... but he would find. Even if it would take him lifetimes, he would find his Wendy.
"She's not dead," he spoke and through the confusion in the nursery all stopped talking and stared at him.
"Who are you?" Mr. Darling asked, clearly confused though shaken by the news of Wendy.
"It's Peter Pan, father!" John volunteered.
Mr. Arched his brow and stared at the young man before him, he was most definitely not a child... this was the company that followed his little Wendy while she was gone. Perversion!
Mrs. Darling stood up and looked at Peter, her features desperate. "Peter, darling what do you mean you know... she's not de--"
"Don't say it!" Peter snapped, his features hard. "I know she's not dead... I can feel her."
"Feel her?" Mr. Darling cried, outraged.
Peter stared at him, impassively. So this was the other man in Wendy's life. A father. No, he was father. He was… and Wendy was mother.
"Ever since she gave the thimble," he flushed lightly to his credit. "... I've been able to feel her." he stopped and placed his hand on his chest. "In here, I feel her."
Mr. Darling gapped at him. "A thimble?"
John cleared his throat. "A kiss, father."
"A KISS?" he was even more outraged, turning to glare at the young man before him. "Now see here!"
"George!" Mrs. Darling cried, putting her hands on his. "Let the boy speak."
Mr. Darling glared at Peter. "He's no boy, Mary! It was him whom Wendy was with, are you not in the least bit outraged?"
"I am a boy too!" Peter cried, backing out of the room.
"Peter, come with me, darling. George, you stay here." Mrs. Darling instructed. Peter floated after Mrs. Darling, glowering at Mr. Darling as he passed by him.
"Insolent!" Mr. Darling hissed under his breath.
Once outside the nursery Mrs. Darling closed the door and faced Peter who was staring at her curiously. He was shaking from anticipation, he needed to find Wendy, and he was loosing time here.
"Peter, please explain to me what is it you feel for Wendy," she said calmly. "I promise I won't be upset, just tell me."
Peter's eyes went wide and he was all too soon reminded of Wendy in the woman before him, speaking of feelings, ruining everything... "I don't have feelings."
Mrs. Darling's eyes softened. "Why do you find feelings so bad, Peter?"
Peter sighed, looking around the hall. "We're wasting time, Wendy is out there, in danger and she needs my help!" He threw his hands on the air.
"She does," she told him, coming closer. "But there are things besides life that she needs saving from."
Peter blanched at her. "Like what?" He had not thought Wendy to be in any other kind of trouble.
"I've never seen my little girl so sad, Peter. Why, why does she carry an acorn around her neck?" it was a rather desperate question.
"...my kiss... she keeps my kiss?" he visibly relaxed, peering at her.
"She keeps much more than that, Peter. She keeps hope. Hope that you will return, hope that you'll grow... that you'll grow old with her," Mrs. Darling was shaking, not sure if she should have this conversation with a fifteen-year old... but then again he could be much older and much younger.
"Grow old?" Peter asked, panicked.
"We all grow old, Peter. It's life," she said, smiling.
"I don't! I won't grow old!"
"But she will!" she cried. "And I, for one, will not let her waste her life by a window waiting for a man who won't grow up to come and take her away." Peter's face went pale as he backed up, shaking his head. "And what will you do, Peter, when you come back... and she'll no longer be there, Peter?"
"She will! She will be there and she won't grow old!" He cried, tears on the verge of spilling.
"Peter..." her voice shook in desperation. "Yes she will. She'll grow old; grow old without you because you're still playing games."
"I'm a boy, I'm still a boy!"
Mrs. Darling quickly reached for his shoulders and turned him around, he was stunned to find a mirror there.
A mirror. He's only seen a mirror once, in Hook's cabin. It had been shattered by the pixies moments later but Wendy had explained what a mirror was.
A reflection of one's self.
No longer was there a sandy blond haired youth looking at him... it was a man. Granted a young man but a man nonetheless. His jaw was defined, a jaw that fit with his deeper voice, his chest though still thin was well muscled and sculpted, his shoulders had grown broader and his cheeks were loosing their baby fat. He screamed and struggled from her grasps.
"I must find Wendy, she'll know what is happening to me, she'll fix it, I know she will!" his eyes were desperate, wide and full of tears.
"Everyone grows up, Peter." she told him quietly. "Even you."
Tears started to splatter on his cheeks. "I don't want to grow up, if I grow up it means I have to die someday!"
"I would've thought death would be an adventure to you, Mr. Pan."
Peter's jaw tightened and the looked at her almost wildly, "I will find Wendy. I will bring her back."
"Then what?" Mrs. Darling asked, her hands clasped before her.
"Then… then I'll decide," Peter told her, angrily wiping the tears from his face.
She studied him for a moment before nodding and asking him to follow. "We'll give you instructions on how to get there… and Peter?"
"Yes," he asked, his eyes not trusting her.
"Take care of her… please."
"I always have," he smiled.
With all the trouble that was cursing her at the moment, Mrs. Darling couldn't help but smiled at the young man. She could definitely see how Wendy could be so fascinated by him.
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It has been a good twelve hours before the soldiers cleared what once was a proud school. The girls had watched as they dragged countless bodies to a pile on the back of the house and burnt them.
Helen was still shaking, pale and almost incoherent, Rosalind was almost the same but in many ways Wendy believed she didn't quite grasp what had happened. Anna was still staring at her with cool iced eyes and for all that was worth she was incredibly grateful for Joanna, she was the buoyancy that kept them afloat.
The moment they were able to re-enter the dormitory Wendy started grabbing her warmest clothes and pulling them on, then padding her feet tightly with wool socks and walking shoes. She gloved her hands and made her hair into a tight clean braid that went down to her mid back. She silently grabbed a traveling pack from the empty bed next to hers… whoever it was couldn't use it anymore and she needed it.
"You're stealing from the dead!" Cried Anna, her face contorted into hatred.
Wendy continued to pack the necessary belongings into it. "I'm going to need it more than she."
"Horrible! You're simply horrible!" Anna cried, reaching to rip the bag from her.
"What's more horrible, Anna? That I take the bag or for you to find out that the bag belonged to one of the girls you used to rip into sheets?" Wendy snapped, taking the bag out of Anna's grasps.
Anna's eyes went wide and she stared at the bed were it had come from.
"It won't be long before people start going through your things, Anna."
"They won't!" she cried. "I'm not dead! I'm not meant die this way! I am a Romanov, do you know what that is?" she snapped.
Wendy rolled her eyes but didn't deter from her packing. "Will that keep you alive?"
"It most certainly will! Killing me would mean war!"
"We already are at war, Anna! Snap out of it!" Joanna cried from her corner of the dormitory. "Do you think the Colonel's limp body was make belief? Or Miss. Longvein's…"
"Stop!" Helen cried, speaking for the first time in hours. Her face was still pale but her involuntary shaking had subsided. "We need to leave, we need to survive… we need to live and we need each other to do it! We have to stop fighting amongst ourselves!"
Wendy looked at in awe, something she had not been able to do since she had met the girl. "Yes. Dress well, Helen and take necessary supplies of your own. We'll leave in an hour. Rosalind, can you go down to the kitchens and find as much food that we can take as possible?"
Rosalind first looked at Anna, who had said nothing and then nodded, making her way to the kitchens.
"Anna, if you're coming with us, look around to anything the soldier's might have left behind… like weapons and such." Wendy told her, tightly closing her bag.
Anna took a deep breath, not breaking eye contact with Wendy then mutely walked out for her search.
"Wendy… do you know how to fight?" Joanna asked her, tentatively.
For a moment in time her world was frozen around her and she was back at the black castle, crossing blades with Peter. It was sweet to be so young that her only worry was Hook. Hook seemed like a moth spot from were she was standing. Hook was a lesser evil. Here, the world was coming down all around her and she couldn't stop it with a sword.
"Yes." She looked up at Joanna. "I can handle blades and guns."
Joanna smiled at her. "Good."
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Peter couldn't comprehend why Mrs. Darling gave him so much food, usually he would get what he needed for the moment, but here she was making him think for the long head.
He would need food and money (which Mr. Darling provided grudgingly) and a map which Peter didn't understand at all. John had made a make-shift map, when they realized Peter couldn't read, with little drawings to let him know where he was. By the looks of the map they had sent Wendy to a very far place, he held his tongue when he wanted to ask exactly why they had sent her away, but he didn't. The important thing was that he had to find her. He was also told to travel only at night as the sight of a flying boy would frighten people (something not really needed in these dark times, Mrs. Darling had said).
Mrs. Darling started doing peculiar things which Peter had never seen done before. She started finding coats for him to wear, gloves, hats and all sorts of things that just made him feel stuffy. She also made sure he had eaten so much he could feel his stomach dropping as he lifted into the air. He proudly told her he did not wear a coat… but once John showed him a painting of the Alps he quickly took it, and said no more.
She placed a hat on him (which he would admit he liked) and thick wool gloves, all the food and supplies were placed in a sack that hung heavily on his back. He assured them that it was just a short flight away… they didn't listen.
By them time he was finally out of the house he looked like he was going hiking and nothing helped his spirits. Especially the fact that he only had a few hours to fly before the sun would come out once more and he would have to hide.
"Adults are peculiar, aren't they?" he asked Tink (who had wisely hidden while he had been assaulted with sweaters and salted meat).
She giggled at him and flew ahead, insisting that she knew were she was going.
He, of course, didn't believe her but also didn't protest. If he kept heading across the ocean he was crossing he would eventually hit the main land like Mr. Darling had instructed.
He would find Wendy within a few hours… he just knew it!
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By the time Wendy and the girls were all set to leave it was nearing sunset. The air was frosty and chilled, so cold that it cut right to their bones though they were covered in everything and anything they could find.
"Looks like a storm is coming," Joanna commented.
Wendy nodded, though she had never seen so harsh a weather her body told her she was about to find out. "We better move out of here before anyone else comes, head west… see if we can find some shelter."
Anna had grumbled the entire way; the others (including Rosalind and Helen) had chosen to ignore her, all too busy trying to make sure they had all they needed. Each of them, with large carrying cases on their backs started through the back roads of the school, keeping to the shadows as they walked to the edge of what once used to be a beautiful property but now stank with the stench of death.
Burnt bodies, to be specific.
Helen whimpered as they passed the giant bonfire which held the corpses of their classmates, professors and staff. Wendy ignored it, she refused to look. She had already seen more death than she'd ever like to experience.
"Let's see if we can leave town before finding shelter… this should be the hardest part. Don't talk unless you have to, stay to the shadows and if they stop you say you're going to tend to your sick mother who has yellow fever." Joanna told them once they were facing the main part of town. "That should keep them away; they'll think you're infected."
The girls nodded and followed after her and Wendy, dodging people on the streets, avoiding eye contact with anyone and keeping to themselves. For the most part they were ignored, poor children, probably sick, probably beggars.
Wendy was almost assured that they had had a clean break when a large hand was placed on her shoulder,
She froze… and turned to look up.
A soldier, an older soldier with stubby beard and glistening, sweaty skin sneered down at her.
"'ello there, my beauty," he smirked. "Where are you headed on this cold day and in such a hurry?"
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TBC….
(A/N: I truly do want to thank you all for the feedback, without I don't think I would be this excited about writing once more. This chapter was a bit shorter but stopped there for a reason ;) For those of you who keep asking me if I've seen "Courage Mountain", yes I have it's one of my favorite film and while searching for a plot for the Peter fiction I kept coming blank until I decided to incorporate the idea of "Courage Mountain" with the fiction, regardless I hope you enjoy it! I have just re-started the new semester so I know I won't be getting chapters out as fast as I did the first three but bear in there, it shall be finished.
For a complete, beta'd version of this fiction, I will be posting it at my fiction site
www.plastic-slut.com/purplepoet
you're always welcomed to come and look, each chapter comes with it's own banner! J )