Fears of A Normal Boy (part 6 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! I also want to thank all of you Fanfiction.net reviewers who send me such lovely words of encouragement! I really appreciate it :)
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It would've been a lie to say that the past three days had been not been close to heaven... because they were. As close as Peter had ever felt. There was a tranquility to the Van Hursts, despite their petty arguments and their talk of nonsense. The played games with each other which Peter found to enjoy immensely and he realized that the more he enjoyed being with them and being accepted into the family the farther and farther away he felt Neverland was.
The reality of a 'star' was understood to him, a place so far away no one will ever visit but himself.
He especially enjoyed listening to Mr. Van Hurst who was determined to teach Peter many things, a surprise to himself Peter found himself curious of all he didn't know or understand. True that his stay had only been of four days but when he would turn around to see the past there was nothing there.
Aside from hunting for Tinkerbell (which had presumably gone missing) Peter didn't have many other thoughts of Neverland. As if Neverland had been a dream, a lovely dream which he wished to always remember.
Mr. Van Hurst showed Peter his small library and when Peter asked what was in all the book the man answered "Well stories, Peter. Adventures, poetry, drama, horror, all times of great thing... and of course romance for Marie who insists on having it in the house."
"What is romance?" Peter had asked, and was impart grateful that the Van Hursts had accepted his lack of knowledge as an opportunity to shed on his their own wisdom, they found it fascinating that someone his age should be so naive.
"Romance?" Mr. Van Hurst has laughed. "It's what makes this world go mad. Nothing clean can come out of love, my lad."
"Love?" the world felt familiar in Peter's tongue, like he had tasted it before.
"Ah, yes... love. A powerful thing it is," the man nodded, smoking his pipe.
"How do you love?" Peter had asked, touching the books.
"Well, that is an excellent question, Peter! Excellent indeed!" the man had sat down and looked out of the library window. "Love is... there is different types of love, Peter."
"How many?" Peter asked, curiosity getting hold of him.
"Plenty and more... if you ask me." Mr. Van Hurst replied. "There's the parent's love towards a child, a child's love towards their parents, family love... friendship love, and then of course there's the love who started it all. Love towards a .... a... well, a woman, Peter."
"A woman?" Peter asked, taken back and alarmed.
"Yes, like Mrs. Van Hurst and I. We're in love.... most of the time, me thinks." he chuckled. "And one day you'll find a special young lady to love and then you'll marry and have loads of happy fat children!"
"Marry? Children?" Peter was pale and alarmed. Suddenly his entire future had been decided for him and he had only asked about 'love'. He had decided that he didn't like 'love' at all. He would stay as far from it as possible.
"Yes, yes..." the man nodded. "Wonderful thing it is, lad. Quite lovely, it's how the human race stays on earth. Without love, there is no life."
"No life?!" Peter stood, and started pacing. Love was bad but he knew that life was good, then how can something so awful bring something so good.
"You're still pretty young, I'd say, fifteen are you now?" the man asked him, blowing out his smoke.
"I-I don't remember." Peter told him quietly, looking out of the window himself.
"Shame that is, we'll land you fifteen and be done with it, what do you think?"
Peter watched the Van Hursts dog chase birds is happy glee and sorrow took over his heart at that moment. Life suddenly seemed... to end. He could already see the end.
"Mr. Van Hurst... I don't think I love at all," Peter told him, turning to look at the man.
"Nonsense, lad!" the man cried out, in almost indignation. "What of that Wendy? If you didn't love the sound such name I shall call you a liar! For I heard it with my own ears!"
Peter's ears turned bright red at the mention of Wendy. "Wendy?" he looked down at the ground for a moment. "She once talked of love."
"I best hope you humored her talks," the man smiled.
"I told her... I told her that it offended me," Peter said quietly. "I think I hurt her that night."
"I should say you did, women are delicate creatures with unpredictable moods, one moment they're smiling and laughing gaily, the next they're a mess of tears and sentiments," Mr. Van Hurst laughed.
"Why are they so... different from boy... I mean, men."
"God created them that way because they are the soul of the man," Van Hurst nodded.
"The soul?"
"The emotions, the feeling; all of which are often much more stronger than men's strength, wiser than men's minds and in most likelihood the superior of the species though we delight ourselves with thinking otherwise," more laughing from him.
"Is that what Mrs. Van Hurst is to you? Is she your soul?" Peter asked, curiously.
Mr. Van Hurst got a distant content look on his face and nodded. "Aye, lad. She most definitely is."
"And it... makes you happy?" Peter came closer, his brows knitted.
"Yes, Peter. She makes me happy."
A sudden grin broken over Peter's features and he let out a shout of joy that almost gave Mr. Van Hurst heart failure.
"Peter, good gracious! What is it?"
"I have to find her, Mr. Van Hurst, I have to tell her!"
"Tell who, what is happening?" the man cried, startled.
"Wendy! I have to tell Wendy!" Peter shouted, his features still shinning.
Mrs. Van Hurst came in, breathing heavily and pale. "Daniel, good heavens what is happening?!"
Mr. Van Hurst was laughing as Peter was nearly dancing with joy. "He's in love, Marie! The boy is in love!"
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When Wendy opened her eyes and looked down she saw herself standing on a beautiful flower-bathed canoe as fairies glided it over the crystal clear river bank.
The night was clear and filled with stars, shinning down on her and her beautiful white dress. Her dress flowed, and filled the entire bottom of the canoe, sparkling in the night with magical crystals. Her shoulders were nearly bare and she was delighted to discover that her body was no longer that of a growing young woman, but it had reached full womanhood. Her breast rode from her chest, showing just enough to give a bit of a tease. The sleeves flowed down to her calves, also sparkling and almost singing against the wind and though she could not confirm it she knew she was back in Neverland.
Her hair was longer and loose around her shoulders and down to her lower back. Two child-fairies flew to her face and gentle placed a garland of dailies on her head, giggling when she smiled at them.
"Thank you," she told them and was also not surprised to find her voice soft and almost sensual, the voice of a woman.
The fairies continued to glide the canoe down the river banks and she watched as midnight-butterflies danced close to her, making love to the wind.
Amongst glassy waters and trees so green the fairies stopped her boat, by the shores and placed a magical path for her to touch the fragrant grass without getting wet.
Her dress flowed around her as she followed the fairies into the trees and the flower gardens. They showed her Blue Roses that grew only there and no where else, that one smell of them and you'd sleep for a thousand years. They showed her the singing orchids which whistled when you sang to them, a soft lovely symphony which made Wendy want to dance, there, without a partner without violins.
But the fairies hurried her out of the exotic gardens and into a clearing were the moon bathed the grass.
"I've been here before," she whispered.
"Yes, always in your dream," a voice said behind her.
Without her turning she knew it was him and a smile spread over her features.
"Peter," she whispered, closing her eyes.
She felt him walking, walking closer to her, until she felt him standing before her, starring at her.
She slowly opened her eyes and there he was. Dressed in dark green, hair as gold as ever, eyes as blue as they sky ... but no longer a boy.
"Peter, you've grown up," she told him, but she was not surprised, almost as this was the way it was meant to be.
He smiled at her and reached out to touched her flowing hair.
"So have you," he said, their voices their whispers in the winds.
Looking up to him she reached out to touch his face, small stubbles of what was a semi-groomed beard prickled her flesh.
"Are you not sad, Peter?" she asked, confused, her brows furrowing.
He continued to smile at her, leaning into her touch, spreading his warm into her flesh.
"No. Not when you're with me."
Her smile must've brightened his day because she shined back at her, his eyes twinkling in the pale night.
"Dance with me, Wendy."
She laughed and looked around. "But there's no music."
He went ahead and took her smaller hand in his, bringing it to his chest, securing it there with his.
"Dance," he brought his other hand to her waist and pulled her close to him, pressing their bodies together in a way that made her flush though she was lost as she looked up to his eyes. "... and the music will come."
She brought her other hand to his shoulder, which was broader than she remembered feeling so she sunk into his embrace because at that moment she had all she needed.
He was right, the moment their feet started moving it seemed like the forest sang with love, a melody so sweet and pure begin to make way for their midnight waltz.
His eyes bore into her, never looking away, never afraid. His breath tickled against the skin of her cheeks and she wished she could be bathed in it forever. He felt so very warm, so warm that it burnt her skin until the pain became pleasure.
He continued to lead her in their dance until he stopped and looked to the moon.
"Soon, you'll have to leave," he told her.
She shook her head, pressing herself closer to him. "No, Peter! I don't ever want to leave!" She rested her hand against his shoulder and his arms wrapped themselves around her, pulling her against him. "I want to stay here... I love it here, Peter."
She could feel his lips resting on the top of her head and it sent shivers throughout her body, giving her small spasms of delight.
"I love you, Wendy."
She pulled back to look at him and gasped.
It was no longer Peter but a man, dressed in a black suit; his hair dark brown and combed back in the latest fashion, a thin mustache adorned his upper lip and though Wendy would admit that he was in deed very handsome... he wasn't Peter. The man's brown eyes twinkled down to her.
"Who are you?" she asked, pulling herself from his embrace.
He moved forward. "Don't you know me, my darling?"
Wendy looked around wildly. "Where's Peter?"
"Who?" the man looked at her confused.
"Peter!!" she cried out into the forest.
"Wendy! Have you gone mad?" he asked, holding on to her bare arm.
"Where did he go? Tell me!" tears were now running down her cheeks.
The man chuckled. "Wendy, really! There is no Peter!"
"Yes there is!" she shouted.
He let go of her arm. "No there isn't," he said calmly. "And until you cannot understand that we cannot get married."
Her eyes went wide. "Married?" Breath was a luxury to her at the moment. "How can I marry you? I don't know you!"
"How can you say that?" he shouted at her. "We've known each other since I found you, alone after the attack at the school!"
"But..." her eyes were fearful. "...that just happened..."
"It's been seven years, my love... there is no Peter, never was and never will be, Wendy." he took her shaking hand and placed it against his chest like Peter had done not minutes ago. "It's always been me, darling." His soft brown eyes pleaded with her. "Don't you remember, I'm your Christian..."
"... Christian?" she asked, herself confused and lost... so very lost in those eyes. "You saved me?"
He gave her a gentle smile and reached out to touch her face. "Yes, my love. Your Christian saved you."
"My Christian?"
"That's what you always called me," he told her, gently.
She started shaking her head. "But... but what of Peter? What became of him?"
"Do you mean the old man Peter?" he asked, confused himself.
"No! He's not a man, he's a boy... a young man!" she cried, her eyes still searching the forest.
"Wendy! He died, he became old in your arms and died."
Her body froze with shock but before she could prevent herself she looked down to her arms and there he was... Peter in her arms, smiling up at her as his head now rested on her lap.
Her heart leapt to her throat.
"Peter!"
But his smile was somewhat sad.
"Peter... I'm sorry I have to go but my heart... my heart belongs to you and always will."
Tears were falling down her cheek and into his quickly ageing face. "Why must you leave? Peter, why?"
His body was ageing fast than what she could understand or comprehend.
He was still smiling up at her. "Wendy? You ... you wont forget me, will you? When you're old and by your window and telling stories to your grandchildren... you wont forget me then will you?"
Wendy took a gasping sob. "No! How could I?"
His once bright eyes slowly closed, smile still on his face in the purest childish delights.
"I'll live, my love. I'll live forever... in your stories..."
And then he was gone, his body ashes on her hands. She let out a strangled cry.
"Peter! Peter, don't leave me!"
Before she knew it. She awoke. Sweating and shivering. But she awoke.
When the night came once more and it was time for them to travel once more.. she knew, she knew she must forget the boy once called Peter Pan.
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TBC....
(A/N: god, that dream was fu*king emotional to write. I cried myself, with the soundtrack in the background and all didn't help ;) I hope you liked it. I wasn't going to make this a chapter by itself ... but the dream got complicated)