Starting Over (part 4 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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Death brings only red moons.
Nothing brought the night to it's closing like the red rays of the sun. Peter knew... he knew red blood had been spilled that night. The world stank of it; making the grass limp, making the trees lifeless, making the animals wild.
Death was all around him and death was with him, hunting him until the little hairs in the back of his neck contacted with a kiss and take, making him shudder in what was left of the night...
... but he continued to fly, fly until his arms were sure to break, until his feet longed for the feel of green leaves and coming rain.
He had never felt such fear, never felt such desperation and in moments when the wind was little he would almost belch at the thought of him being too late. He would get images of finding her when she was already gone, blood tainting her perfect face, eyes opened and cold with no life in them.
He would close his eyes against the images and will them to die and rot away but they were there, haunting and teasing him ten times worse than any image of husbands and locked windows could produce.
He would find her on time; her eyes would be bright with life and her cheeks free of blood.
He would find her.
He would.
Tink rested on his back when the dawn's first rays started to bathe the land before him, hidden behind the lapels of his coat. How he wished he was small enough to hold only one emotion at the time!
Hundreds of emotions were flashing before him, all took quick for him to neither understand nor process. He would loose time, resting and hiding... so he decided to travel on foot while the day made its presence.
He told this to Tink who simply responded that he should rest also.
His reply?
He would not rest until he found her. He would not rest until she was safe.
By 6am he had reached the outskirts of Brussels, finding himself a small country farm he hid in the stables until the milking cow had been taken out to pasture and the father had gone into town.
Quickly, talked to the large horse that was acutely aware of his presence, making sure it understood he mounted it, shielding himself against the cold morning air and started his journey on the ground.
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Wendy's mouth went dry, her throat parching at the look the man was giving her... it made her entire body tremble with fright and she unconsciously pulled her coat higher on her neck.
"I... we-" She tried to form words but somehow his figure seemed to tumble over her, covering her like a dooming shadow.
"Running off, were ya?" he leaned in even more, his breath making her grimace at its stench.
"No, I was… my mother! My mother has yellow fever! My sisters and I were running to get some herbs!" Her eyes were wide and her toes crossed, hoping that this man would simply let her go.
"Yellow fever?" he looked disgusted then roughly let her go. "Go on with you!" He pushed her into the other girls who quickly stumbled to get as far from him as possible.
Once they rounded the corner and were away from his angry stare, and slight cursing Wendy realized she was shaking. Truly shaking.
"It's alright, Wendy. We're ok, you're ok," Joanna told her.
But she couldn't stop shaking, she felt like she was going to break down. "T-that was too close," she stuttered, her teeth making slightly clanking noises. "We need to find a hiding p-place, hide until they leave the town."
Helen nodded her eyes just as wide as Wendy's, her trembling even more prominent.
"C'mon," Joanna encouraged them. "These roads lead out of town, soon enough we'll be able to find shelter…." She looked at the sky which was thick with clouds. Snow was coming. Snow was coming soon. "It's going to be a long night," she murmured under her breath.
Tough Wendy didn't tell anyone, and she probably didn't believe it herself, but as her heart was pounding still in her chest she was sure she heard Peter cry out her name.
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Around the time of sunset there was a sharp pang in Peter's chest and the first thing that came to his mind was that Wendy was scared. More than scared, it was a deadly fright that took her for a moment and it felt like a sword penetrating his chest.
He had gasped, fallen from the horse and screamed.
Tink had later told him that he had clearly shouted Wendy's name, she then proceeded to make fun of her long hair. He ignored her and grabbed his things from the horse, as tired as his body was he leapt up into the air thinking of how soon he would find her.
It was not entirely dark yet but he couldn't wait. Separated from her was like dying slowly and if there was one thing Peter Pan knew was that he was not ready to die.
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She stared at their family portrait, one they had taken only a few months back. The entire family was smiling. Except one.
Wendy had on the saddest of smile, so sad that Mrs. Darling decided to call it a frown, and frowning herself as she never realized it before. She should've known something was amiss with her daughter. Something had saddened her so much that it was like the very light of her soul was slowly being put out.
Her delicate fingers traced out her perfect little face; she had looked so lovely that day with a new green dress her George had bought her, congratulating her for being accepted at Longvein's Academy for Refined Young Ladies. She had not seen it, she had been blinded by the happiness of getting her children back, or getting new children, on finding a new fortune, on George opening his own Accounting firm… on so many things that she had been blind to what should've been most obvious to her.
Her own child's happiness.
A warm hand came to rest on her shoulder, so suddenly that it made her jump.
"It's me, Mary," George told her, coming down to kneel by her chair.
"Darling, you startled me," she told him, turning to smile at him as she placed her hand on top of his.
He kissed her temple and looked back down at the picture she was admiring. "We'll all be together once more, Mary. Don you worry."
She smiled kindly at him. "And let you do all the worrying?"
"It's worth a try, no?"
The smile left her face. "She was so unhappy, George. Why didn't we see it?"
"Nonsense! She wasn't unhappy. I am prepared to wager that she didn't even think of this Pan-boy!" Mr. Darling said, his chest lifting in elation.
"Oh, George! Do be real!" she cried, standing up to face him. "They're in love!"
"Mary, of all the silly things to say! She's merely fourteen, just turned them in fact!" He cried, standing up to her. "He's a young man, yes but he thinks himself a boy, is this the sort of man we want for our daughter?"
"George, it's not for us to decide and in case you forgot let me very well remind you that you first saw me when you were twelve!" she grabbed her skirts and walked to their room.
He followed her, naturally. "Mary, really! We were silly children then; it wasn't until much later when I had the decency to speak to you!"
"Exactly."
"Exactly? What exactly?" George asked, confused.
"You're being a child about this, George. The children wont stay children forever despite the otherwise placed opinion." She started undoing her necklace. "And they'll fall in love and marry, and for Wendy that can be only year away."
"We'll talk about this when the time comes, Mary. Really!"
He was exasperated, so he ignored her and went about untying his shoes.
"She's in love and he loves her back," Mary told him after minutes of silence.
"He won't stay, Mary." George told her, his hand coming up to take his glasses off so he could rub his tired eyes.
Mrs. Darling looked down to her pearls which rested peacefully in the middle of her palm. "He might grow up."
"He might," Mr. Darling agreed.
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They had walked about one mile when the flakes that the heavens milked started to descend on them, painting their hairs with crystallite kisses that fell from the sky.
But then the wind started coming, cold mountain air that went right to their bones, chilling them until Wendy could hardly breathe. They were leaving the town, yes, but the road that lead away from it was simply going higher and higher.
The mountain climbing has begun.
After about two hours in the know, when their feet were almost numb and they were shaking uncontrollably a large farm appeared in the distance.
"Shelter!" Anna cried, pointing at it.
"We're saved!" Rosalind agreed, as did the rest of the girls, hopes in their hearts raising that came with renewed strength.
Before Wendy knew it they had snuck into the barn as the family stayed snuggly in their house, roasting by the fire.
"Did they see us?" Wendy asked Joanna who had shut the door behind them, leaving the growing storm to take its wind elsewhere.
"No, the snow is getting too thick and their windows are fogged." She told them, relaxing them a bit.
"We should start a fire," Wendy said, looking around for firewood.
"There's a box of matches here," Helen said, as she brought the small wood box to Wendy from the little table it had been resting at.
"Perfect!" Wendy took the matches from Helen and with Rosalind and Joanna they started gathering hay to start a fire.
Though it took several tries and a few matches, a small fire had been started and they sighed in contentment as it defrosted their cheeks and eyelashes, bringing color into their eyes.
"I've never been so glad for fire," Anna admitted, earning surprised looks from the entire group. "Not even in Russia, I used to have to spend the Holidays with my Aunt who lived in the eastern country, near Siberia… winters there got so cold you could get frostbite if you didn't walk every few hours. But the servants always kept the fire running… I was never this cold."
"I've been this cold… colder even." Joanna told them, her face hard as she stared at the fire.
"When?" Rosalinda asked after while.
"I went traveling with my uncle and brothers one fall… through the alps. He's a radical, my uncle and even though they told him not to because of the changing weather he did it anyways." She bit her lower lip. "He taught me how to survive… that's why I know all this. He died before we were rescued. I and my two brothers were still alive because of him."
Wendy looked away, guilt covering her, almost shaming her. Here she was thinking her life had been hard because a boy had left her when other people in the world had seen so much more.
"I'm glad you know all this… I think we would've died if it weren't for you being here," Wendy told her softly.
Joanna sniffled. "Yeah… everything has its purpose."
"I'm hungry," Rosalind commented after a while of silence.
"I think we can afford some bread and cheese," Wendy told her, smiling.
"I'm sorry, Wendy," Rosalind said, suddenly.
A frown crossed Wendy's face, looking at her questioningly. "What for?"
"For being so horrible to you before," Rosalind told her, her bright brown eyes filled with tears.
Wendy smiled suddenly at her and handed her a piece of bread from the food bag. "I think we can place the past behind us, alight?"
"I apologize too," Helen told her suddenly, and then looked at Joanna. "And you too, Joanna."
Anna remained quiet, her face stoic as they girls laughed off the past and started sharing their food, silence gone and only good company left.
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He had become too tired, so very tired. His arms ached, his chest hurt from struggling for air at the high altitude he was, the cold was biting right through him like nothing he had ever experienced before but he kept on mumbling the same thing over and over;
'Must find Wendy, I must find Wendy.'
Tinkerbell urged him to rest, if only for a little while but he wouldn't hear her, even when she began to cry from worry as various times he didn't see mountains and almost ended embedded to the side of them.
But he kept going, with his heavy bag on his shoulder, weighing him down, a map he could hardly read before him, he kept going—fishing for happy thoughts as those too left him rather quickly.
Without him knowing of it, he began descending, he was so focused on his mantra that he didn't feel the air becoming more breathable, the winds coming down faster and the snow coming in torrents.
Think was snuggly asleep in his coat pocket and it wasn't until she started shivering in her sleep that she warned him of where he was going. Peter looked started down, seeing the large frozen lake before him he panicked; the stress of the traveling, the grief over his growth and Wendy brought him no happy thoughts… and into the frozen lake he fell through with a loud splash.
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TBC….
A/N: Things that I thought were going o happen in this chapter didn't and they got pushed back, I'm going to have some time tomorrow evening so I might write some more, depends if I don't pass out of exhaustion. ;) Thank you, once more, for your lovely feedback!