Remember the Handprints (part 14 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 disclaimer: "You Must Love Me" by Madonna
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: Always to my beta Rogue, who is absolutely awesome!
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"You little--"
Before Christian could insult Peter again he was roughly punched once more in the stomach.
"Peter, no!" Wendy cried in horror.
Christian, for his part, reacted. Recovering from the first two punches he cried out and ran into Peter's stomach, pulling them both on the floor.
"Christian, no!" Wendy cried.
Peter grabbed Christian's hair and pulled his head back then promptly brought his forehead to collide against the older man's. Christian cried out and grabbed Peter's neck, starting to choke him then pulled his head up and started banging it against the floor.
Wendy frantically looked on at the two guys basically fighting for her, her nerves on end she ran inside to get help.
Peter blindly reached out to Christian's face; his scratching at his eyes. Christian let go of Peter's neck, stood up and promptly kicked him in the side of his stomach. Peter groaned but saw as the next kick as coming and grabbed Christian's foot, giving it a good twist. This made Christian fall on his ass, stunned as Peter straddled him and punched him twice in the face.
"I dare say!"
Before Christian could react Peter was roughly pulled off him by two older men.
"Stop it!" Peter heard Wendy cry. He still struggled against the hands that held him back, wanting to get in a few more punches to Christian who was himself being held back by two other men wanting to get to Peter.
"You stay away from her!" Peter screamed at him.
"She came to me, boy." the other snipped back.
Peter saw red, and enraged tried to lounge for him again, his need was so strong that he broke free of the hands and promptly tried to choke Christian.
"No, Peter!" a man's voice told him, more hands grabbed him and pulled him off Christian.
Wendy watched in horror as Peter was pulled as far possible from Christian and Christian himself had to be held back.
The Duke walked in between both of them. "Now that is enough!" he bellowed. "This is not proper behavior of a civilized society! And in front of a lady none the less!" he pointed to Wendy who ducked her head, blushing furiously.
Peter had the right to look ashamed as he glanced at the embarrassed Wendy. He visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagging.
Where do we go from here?
This isn't where we intended to be
"There will be no more of this, hear me? Not in my home!"
Christian relaxed, rolling his shoulders and cleaning the blood from his mouth when he was let go. "I apologize, my lord Duke."
"Wendy, dear--come with me." The Duke extended his hand. She had tear marks running down her face and she was pale, still shaking from the fight.
"Wendy!" Peter cried out and for a moment Wendy looked up to meet his eyes. His were desperate, hers were sad.
"Duke Waterford!" one of the soldiers cried, one that had been holding on to Christian.
The Duke was annoyed as it was and snapped in anger to the young man. "Yes?"
"My lord... be he not Christian Kelley? The Christian Kelley?"
Christian for his part smiled, a charming smile despite his bloodied face.
"I assure you--"
"By George!" The Duke said amazed. "Half of Europe is looking for you!"
"I'm just a simple investor, my lord--"
"He is not, and I'll testify to that." Everyone turned to the man who had spoken, he was dressed in the finest of suits, a cigar in his hand a look that kills in his eyes. "His name is Christian Alan Kelley, also known as Jonathan Risco and Michael Winters; both names I am sure you are familiar with since they have been attributed to the murders of High Springs last winter. The perpetrator was a young American man who often passes as an English gentleman who is extremely fond of card playing."
As these things were said by this man Wendy was looking at Christian in awe, his eyes were also fixed on her; sadness in his eyes.
"... he is wanted for countless deaths and we received word two nights ago that he was indeed hired to hunt and dispatch Duke Waterford's daughter, Helen Waterford and all of her companions."
Helen and Rosalind gasped, grasping for each other. The Duke for his part arched his brow.
"And who are you, sir?"
The man took a puff of his cigar. "I am Nathaniel Kensington; representing British Intelligence."
Two more soldiers cam forward and cuffed Christian.
"Well sir..." The Duke addressed Christian. "What have you to say for yourself?"
He was still looking at Wendy when he said this. "All I say to my defense is that after meeting the young ladies I would place my life in order to save them."
"Of course you would, lad," Nathaniel said and motioned for the soldier's to take him away.
"I have a room you can keep him in until we can transport him to England," the Duke told Mr. Kensington.
Nathaniel nodded and excused himself, going after the party who had taken the assassin.
"Well, we can safely say that tonight has not been un-eventful." The Duke joked lightly and many of the people around chuckled, and started motioning to go back inside the ball.
"Come, my dears," he motioned to Wendy, Anna, Helen, Joanna and Rosalind who were standing together, still in shock of missing death by a hair pin.
"I'll look after Peter," Anna told them after while, walking towards Peter.
Wendy's head snapped up and quickly grasped her forearm. "I'll look after Peter." His voice was cold and deadly as she glared her down.
Anna studied her for a moment then narrowed her eyes and walked away.
We had it all, you believed in me
I believed in you
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Once his true identity was out he was man-handled by the officers, they roughly threw him in a small room, with nothing but a small bed and a basin.
They laughed when he tripped and fell on the floor.
"You were a fool to think we would not notice you," Nathaniel told him.
Christian chuckled darkly. "Took you long enough, I was beginning to think I could get away with it."
"I've been watching you Mr. Kelley. Working on assignment is one thing, of your own free will meddling with a respectable young lady is unforgivable."
Christian's eyes hardened as he looked at the man. "My intention was not to meddle."
"You're telling me now you love her?"
"I do. I love her. Like I said before I would die for her," he insisted, looking at the officer straight.
"I'll hold you to that promise, Mr. Kelley. I guarantee it," Nathaniel smiled and walked out, shutting the door behind him.
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Where do we go from here?
This isn't where we intended to be
We had it all, you believed in me
I believed in you
Peter felt as if he were floating; he didn't know whether he should be happy or if he should be sad. Oddly, he felt both emotions; it was a very strange feeling indeed.
It was true that every part of his body currently hurt but it was nothing he had not felt before; in fact after a good fight with pirates it felt good to be hurt --in a strange sort of way.
He turned to look as the officers took Christian away; cuffed and bound like a common thief. In another odd emotional wave he felt pity for the young man; if this young man would've been allowed to come to Neverland this would've never happened. He would've been a happy person, a happy boy—a boy forever. This thought for some reason made Peter shudder. It was the first time he had spent so long in this world. Soon his memories were becoming distant and adventures were becoming fairytales and the only thing that felt real was Wendy and his own love for Wendy.
He felt a warm small hand on his shoulder, it squeezed in reassurance. He needed not turn back to see who it was; he knew. He could feel her presence surrounding him. Surrounding him in an act of forgiveness.
"Peter…"
He quickly turned around and placed a single finger on her lips.
"No, Wendy."
Her eyes were wide and clear, looking at him with such clarity he hadn't seen since they had left Neverland.
"I'm sorry, Peter… so sorry." she breathed against the pad of his finger.
His eyes clouded slightly as he looked down at her. There she was, so majestic. The one thing in this world that had led the boy of legends to change; she had trapped him like a fairy on a flame and he felt as if he were burning. Feelings and emotions he couldn't comprehend cursed through his veins. He was alive and dying all at once and for once in his long life did he feel truly alive.
"Sorry for what?" he asked, his voice was rather husky and thick--he had not counted on that.
She blinked slowly, as if shameful. "For... the other day... I was childish." she looked down, her eyes resting on his bruised hands. "Let me tend to you."
When she took his larger hand in hers he simply swallowed and nodded.
"Peter?" she asked, enveloping his hand on both of hers.
"Yes, Wendy?"
"Can it ever be the same? Can we ever go back to the way we were?" she asked, still a whiff of a whisper--her eyes were wide and scared.
He simply looked at her and told her to lead the way.
Certainties disappear
What do we do for our dream to survive?
How do we keep all our passions alive,
As we used to do?
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Wendy sat Peter on her bed and ever so softly walked to the toiletries to retrieve any antiseptics. She found there some rubbing alcohol, gauze, cotton, and peroxide water.
Peter watched as she came back, her arms full of things, little hairs from her fancy hair-do falling delicately on her face, making shadows that played hide and go-seek over her features. She placed them on the bed, and placed a large pillow on the floor so she could adequately sit down without ruining her beautiful gown.
The silk sat like a pool of glistening silver-blue around his feet. She took his hand gentle in hers and padded the cuts with alcohol, blowing on it softly when it stung; letting her cool air refresh his skin.
"You probably have a bruised rib..." her face blushed furious scarlet and she couldn't meet his eyes. "You'll have to... r-remove your shirt."
Peter nodded, not sensing her awkwardness and with a grimace took off his jacket and shirt leaving him shirtless for her to tend. With trembling fingers she reached out to feel his ribs.
"Where does it hurt?" she asked.
He was looking down at her bent head, her eyes trying to concentrate and form a type of detachment.
Peter placed the tip of his index finger over his heart. "Here."
Her eyes went wide as she stared at the spot Peter had pointed to, her bottom lip trembled slightly.
"Needs a thimble," he murmured; the heat of her escaping breath was warming his chest and sent Goosebumps all over his arms.
"Peter..." her voice was uncertain as she slowly met his gaze. His eyes had turned dark green, as if he clouded the entire room.
"Right... this rib," he pointed to his side which was sending steady bursts of pain every time he breathed.
She was quiet, staring still at the spot in his heart... it was so close and yet so far away.
Deep in my heart I'm concealing
Things that I'm longing to say
Without warning she leaned in and kissed it. Kissed the skin right over his heart. Peter drew a deep breath and watched as she pulled back, his entire body singing on the tiny spot where her lips had touched.
"I love you, Peter Pan." she whispered against his chest.
She met his eyes and they danced together for a while. It was better than flying, Peter decided, it was euphoric. Without warning it made him float in the air. He reached down and took her hand, pulling her into his arms.
"Peter you're hurt!" she cried.
"I feel like I could take on Hook and all of his fleet!" there was a childish ring to his voice; a lovely sing that he had not heard before.
Wendy laughed, her voice bathing him in sweetness; her voice was music to the earth, made it flourish with flowers and fruits.
Scared to confess what I'm feeling
Frightened you'll slip away
"You're better now?" she asked, leaning into his embrace and enjoying the feeling of the air under her toes.
"I still hurt a little... but you'll fix me, wont you Wendy?" his smile was radiant; she had not seen it on him in such a long time it hurt her to think of all the awful things that had happened in the past few days.
"Come, your eyes is still bleeding as is your lip," she reminded him, gently touching the cut on his brow.
Slowly he glazed down to the floor and he let her fuss over him until he was free of blood and all bandaged up.
"You didn't have to hit him, Peter. I would've never--"
"I couldn't help myself. I've never felt such rage," he fumed, looking own at the floor as if his anger and jealousy had taken over him again.
"It's more jealousy than anything else," she reminded him, smiling as she took the bandages to their cabinet.
Peter looked up at her, his eyes curious as she buttoned up his shirt. "What is jealousy?"
Wendy came back, still smiling at him. "It's that feeling you get towards someone when you feel they have something that you long for or belongs to you."
"Yes," Peter mussed, he was nodding. "You belong to me now, Wendy."
Wendy laughed. "Do I?"
"Yes! You are mine as I am yours." he stated quite proudly.
Her smile deepened and she reached out to take his hand. "It's highly improper for you to say such things, Peter. Remember to keep it between us two, alright?"
"If you wish it," he told her quite simply.
You must love me
You must love me
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"Someone wants to see you," one of the soldiers who was holding him in the small room told him as he opened the door.
Christian quickly stood from his place on the floor.
"Wendy!" he cried out when he saw her. She was still in her party gown but her hair was now down, making her look even more angelical than before.
"Hello Mr. Kelley," she greeted, a bit coldly. "Duke Waterford insisted that I not see you, he said you would try to kill me in the opportune moment and that my life was in danger." she walked closer, her features serious. "Am I in danger?"
Christian stared at her, tall and proud in her convictions.
"I could never hurt you, Wendy." he responded signaling with his hands surrender.
"Good," she stated. "The we can converse like civilized acquaintances."
"I'd hardly call us acquaintances," he insisted.
"That's all we can never be, Mr. Kelley." her eyes were still cold and weary. "Friends don't lie to each other. At least not in England."
He chuckled at her dark humor. "That they don't." he sat down on the bed. "The acquaintances we shall be."
She nodded and started pacing the small room. He watched her, watched how her face darkened with each step she took.
"You can sit down, you know--"
"Who are you?" she snapped.
He took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall. "I'm complicated."
She stared at him for a moment, leaning casually. "That's all you're going to say? You're complicated? They're going to guillotine you!"
"Anyone would think you to care, Miss. Darling," his smile was a ghost of a smirk.
"Mr. Kelley... don't you care for your life? Don't you want to live?" she asked, rather desperately.
"Live for what exactly, my dear?" he demanded, his face no longer placid but shinning with frustration.
"For life! To live for life itself it is the greatest wonder of them all."
"I'm not in search for wonders of life, I hate to disappoint you," he sneered, standing up and looking out the bared window.
"No..." her voiced trembled lightly. "You're in search of young girls to murder."
He turned to her sharply. "Yes... I desperately needed the recognition; I desperately needed to be admired, respected... I needed to be the best. I needed it."
She was shaking an he could tell.
"Have I frightened you, Miss. Darling?" he came closer to her. "It's what you wanted, no? You wanted to know what monster hide behind the man? We'll, you got him. I'm a killer. I've been a killer since I was fifteen--your age. At first it was for food and now it's for survival. I thought men like me didn't change. I thought us to be constant and unchanging... I thought us to be... incapable of love." his eyes turned to her, black fire. "Then you came in, Came into my life."
He grabbed the pitcher of water and threw it against the wall, destroying it. Wendy yelped and backed up.
"What have you done to me?" he was breathing hard. "You torment me, I can see your eyes curing me into doing goodness and I can't stop myself!" he threw himself at her feet, kneeling before her. His eyes were wide and desperate as hers were frightened. "I love you, Wendy. I love you. I have wanted so much to be the light in your eyes; like Peter is. I wanted to be Peter, I wanted to own your emotions and your effects and I wanted all that you were willing to give to him. I want it. For it I'd be willing to change all that I am, all that I know... I would change."
He grasped at her skirts and Wendy pulled back, she was still frightened. "I'm sorry." she whispered.
"You're sorry?" he asked, his voice hollow.
"I'm sorry I made you feel such... emotions. It was not my intention and I beg for your forgiveness and in turn ask that you forget these passions... and be a better man for your own good."
He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "I have no anchor on my own, Wendy."
"Yet I can't be yours," she told him.
He sagged down, his eyes leaving hers and he turned them to the floor.
"I love Peter and he loves me back. I have a tendency, it seems, to make men change." she chuckled, darkly.
"And he was there first," Christian said, almost hollowly.
"Where first?" she asked, confused.
"There. In your heart. He's set up house."
"He has." she moved to the door. "I'm sorry you love me, Christian. But the truth is... the truth is that you would never make me happy."
Without another look back she opened the door and left.
Why are you at my side?
How can I be any use to you now?
Give me a chance and I'll let you see how
Nothing has changed
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TBC....
A/N: I think it's funny that I've made Wendy/Christian 'shippers out there, but really this is a W/P fiction as you can well tell ;) I'm sorry once more this took so long and the next one might take just as long as I'm swamped with school, work and RL but hopefully they'll steadily come out.
Once more, remember that this is NOT the beta'd version of the fiction, to read it you have to go to my archive and in a few days this chapter will be up.