Author's Notes: Ok, I know I haven't updated my other Peter Pan fic yet but this idea kept running around my head and so I just had to write it…to stay sane. I hope you like my little offering and if you're looking for more Peter/Wendy I recently posted another story, Erosion of Neverland on this site. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Peter Pan and associated characters do not belong to me. I'm merely using them for kicks and not receiving any money in return! P.S. Hats off to J.M. Barrie who left the copyright of the novel to Great Ormand Street Hospital for Sick Children!
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Peter alighted on the nursery window, gazing inside. It had been some time since he had been to the Darling house, how long he could not be sure for sometimes his memory was not very good, but he was certain that Wendy would be still waiting for him, after all, the window was still open.
He glanced around, seeing the three beds occupied. Grinning to himself he strode into the room. Before he made his way inside, however, lightning flashed before his eyes and pain laced his skull. He had knocked his head against the window frame. Slightly dazed, he found he was forced to crouch low in order to gain entry to the house. This puzzled him only a little, as Peter rarely thought about the consequences of his actions. He peeped around the shadowy room in search of Wendy. Hoping to his feet, he glided through the room, coming to hover over the bed he knew to be Wendy's.
He was quite shocked then to discover not the pretty girl he had entranced to Neverland but a boy, one with red hair and freckles. He stared at the boy for some time. Something about him was familiar… like the memory of a dream, but the memories eluded him. Peter frowned a little but did not dwell on it, there were often times where he found his memory unreliable.
He flew to the other beds but his search for Wendy proved unsuccessful. The other two beds he found occupied by the same boy, or was that two of the same boy? He did not care enough to dwell on the matter. But where was Wendy? He paced the room in anger, taking out his frustration on a shoe that lay discarded on the floor. It sailed through the air and collided with a hunched figure lying next to the fire place.
Grumbling in an almost human manner Nana raised her head. She had got a little deaf as the years passed and had not heard Peter's entrance. However she saw him now and wasted no time in voicing her protest at the uninvited guest.
Peter quickly drew his dagger and was circling Nana when the nursery door flew open to reveal a pretty young woman in her night-gown.
"Nana! What on earth is this racket?! Did the-" Wendy fumed as she forcefully opened the door. She was in the process of striding over to Nana when the figure stalking their nurse caught her attention. Her jaw dropped and she began backing into the hall. Fear gripped her heart as the figure began advancing on her.
"Wendy!" Peter grinned as the subject of his search entered the room.
Wendy stopped her retreat when she heard her name. She eyed the youth thoughtfully for a second before recognition took her. "Peter?" She asked doubtfully.
He nodded enthusiastically, a cheeky grin on his tanned face. "Ay, tis Peter Pan!" He announced. His grin faded, however, once he observed Wendy's countenance. "Did I not tell you I would return?" He explained.
"Peter," Wendy replied with forced calm. "That was six years ago."
"Oh." Peter chewed on his lip. "I suppose that's a long time then?"
"Very long." Wendy blinked back tears. She had thought Peter had forgotten her, she knew how awful his memory was.
"Well, I've returned now!" He grinned again, wondering idly why Wendy was scrutinising him so.
"Have you been in Neverland all that time?" She asked doubtfully.
"Of course." Peter replied in a slightly angry manner. "Where else would I be?" He inspected the chest of drawers in which his shadow had been trapped before returning his gaze to Wendy. Her troubled looks were worrying him. "Why?"
Wendy glanced up and down the hall, not quite sure what to say. She was quite glad her parents were at a party in the neighbours. "Well, it's just that…" Peter gave her an impatient look. She frowned, deciding beating around the bush would not help lessen the blow. "Peter, didn't you know?" He continued to stare at her, completely clueless. "Peter, you've grown."
Peter stared at her horrified for a few seconds before turning angry. "That's a cruel joke, Wendy." He fumed. "I'm sorry I took so long to return but do not punish me with such lies."
"Peter, it's the truth. Haven't you noticed?" She replied, tears in her eyes.
"No, you lie! Stop it!" He screamed, screwing his eyes shut.
"Peter, look." Wendy pointed to the mirror hanging in the landing.
Peter glared at her but did indeed look into the reflecting glass. The face that stared back at him was most certainly not that of a boy. His features were sharper, more defined. He no longer had the round face of a boy. He was becoming a man. "No!" He cried. Hitting the mirror forcefully. His blow shattered the glass and sent it tinkling to the floor. He pulled his hand back in shock, cradling the injured appendage against his chest.
Wendy cried out in horror as she saw the rivets of blood flowing freely from Peter's hand. "Oh, Peter." She reached out to him but he recoiled.
"No, stay away from me!" He cried, backing away. In his turmoil he failed to notice the carpet behind him and tripped on the edge, landing heavily on the floor. He found himself weeping openly.
In an instant Wendy was at his side. "Oh Peter, please don't run away from me." She stroked his arm soothingly. Peter merely sniffed but did not otherwise respond. "I'll bandage your hand for you and you can tell me what's happened in Neverland since I've been away." She smiled at him, while helping him to his feet. Gently she guided him to her room, the one she had moved into with the addition of the Lost Boys. She indicated for him to sit on the bed before she turned to leave the room.
"Wendy!" Peter called out in distress as he saw he abandon him.
"It's all right, Peter." She smiled gently. "I'm just going to get water and a bandage." She nodded her reassurances to him before leaving to the bathroom. She filled a porcelain bowl with warm water and took a wash cloth from the rail. Sighing she began ripping old sheets into strips for bandage. She was still not quite sure this wasn't all some kind of dream. She had waited for so long for Peter to return but after so long she had almost given up hope. But now here he was…but what had happened? For he appeared as old as she. Could it be that he to had grown? She had though it impossible, that Peter's insolent will would always keep him a boy but it seemed she was wrong.
Satisfied with her medical equipment she returned to her room. Peter was slightly more composed now, though tears still shone in his cerulean eyes. "Here." She took his hand gently and placed it in the bowl of water. She had often dressed Peter's wounds and he had always been quite brave about it, she hesitated at using the words 'grown-up'. He winced a little as she gently removed the mud and grime that seemed to constantly stain his, and once the Lost Boys, hands. "Peter, did you not notice you were getting taller?" She asked gently, afraid to upset him.
"No," He replied miserably. "How would I?" He attempted to with draw his hand as Wendy began to remove the glass shards with a tweezers.
She held fast to his hand, pursing her lips in determination. "Did you not noticed you were taller that the other Lost Boys?" She winced at causing him pain, necessary though it maybe.
"They're aren't any Lost Boys." He said stiffly.
"No more Lost Boys?" She looked up from her work, pity tightening her chest. "Why?" Peter shrugged in response. "What about the Red Skins?"
"Oh," He grinned slightly. "We're at war again." Some of the mischief returned to his eyes.
Wendy returned her attentions to his hand, rolling her eyes in disbelief. But she could not quell the pity stirring in her heart. It was mostly due to her that Peter had been left alone. Maybe he had been forced to grow up. She knew he bored easily, perhaps some many years in solitude had caused a fundamental change in him, now manifested in physical growth. She sighed as she finished cleaning his wound and began to wrap it in linen.
Peter fidgeted, uneasy with the silence. He looked around the room, his attention not on any particular item. "You don't sleep in the nursery any more." He noted.
"Oh…no." Wendy replied, securing at knot to keep Peter's bandage in place.
"Why?" He asked childishly.
Wendy stared up at him. She could not decide whether it was the shock at seeing he had grown or her flowing night gown that hid the changes in her body, but it seemed Peter had not noticed that she was nearly a woman. "Peter, I've grown up." She replied gently. He looked down at her sadly, even more upset than he had appeared to be with the news of his own metamorphosis. She stood up and returned his sad smile. "Stay, Peter." She took a seat next to him on her bed. "Mother and Father will love you, I know. And the Lost Boys will be ever so happy to see you."
Peter looked at her, his eyes devoid of their usual playfulness. "Stay…" He mused. "And become a man." He added scornfully.
Wendy choked back a sob. "Oh don't you see, Peter….you're already a man." She whispered, her heart breaking.
Peter wanted to scream and shout, to make her take it back…but he knew she was right. Perhaps he had known these past few years, instinctively understood that it was finally time he left Neverland. Breathing shallowly he began to weep, a fear the like of which he had never felt before tearing at his heart.
Wendy, seeing his pitiful state began to weep too. Gently she took him in her arms and stroked his back soothingly. At first Peter tensed in her embrace but slowly he collapsed against her, clutching her tightly, begging her to stop whatever was happening to him, to make him a boy again…
So caught up in their mutual grief were they that neither heard the front door open and Mr. and Mrs. Darling return. Shrewd eyed George Darling spied the lights of Wendy's room still on. Smiling to his wife, they silently ascended the stairs, hoping to catch their only daughter still awake.
"And what are you doing up at such an hour as this?" George asked playfully swinging the door open.
The sight that greeted his eyes was enough to make him drop his hat in shock. Nestled comfortably on her bed was his first born in the arms of a savage-looking boy. "WENDY!" He cried in shock, adverting his eyes. He heard his wife gasp in shock just behind him.
Peter and Wendy broke apart in shock. Reflexes like lightning, Peter was to his feet in an instant, holding his dagger threateningly.
"No Peter, don't!" Wendy cried, jumping to her feet and coming between Peter and her parents. "Mother, father, I can explain-"
"Explain?" He father said aghast, finally looking back to her. "How on earth can you explain? The disgrace, Wendy…" He shook his head in disbelief. "And you," He turned his attention on Peter, not noticing the dagger. "Who are you? And how dare you enter my daughter's room."
"Father, please!" Wendy flashed Peter a look, and he sheathed his dagger. "It's Peter Pan." She looked to her mother. "Truly it is."
They both looked at her as if she had gone mad. Further explanations on Wendy's part were made unnecessary as, in the lengthy silence that followed, Michael and the twins burst into her room. They had been woken initially by Nana's barking but the cries of out rage from their father had been the final straw. Upon hearing that Peter Pan was once again in the house they broke forth, determined to see him. Mr. and Mrs. Darling shuffled back in surprise as they pushed them aside, coming to a stop before Wendy. Three inquisitive faces blinked in Peter's direction. It was at almost precisely the same moment that they simultaneously recognised each other. The three young boys became instantly giddy, delighted that their captain had returned, Peter however, was quite a different story.
He pulled away from them as they neared. He was increasingly uncomfortable with his increased height. He now towered above the pre-pubescent younger boys. He recognised something of his 'old' face in them. The soft, round features, the immature, button like noses. Appalled at the changes ravaging his body he stepped around them, placing Wendy's body between them and himself.
Michael visibly wilted. "Peter, don't you remember us?" He asked, sounding even more childish than he appeared.
Wendy glanced at the once proud boy now practically cowering behind her. She instantly recognised the fear in his eyes. She smiled reassuringly at him, opting not to take his hand after glancing at her father. "Of course he does, Michael…but Peter's feeling poorly tonight. Why don't you and the twins go back to bed and you can see him tomorrow." She nodded in encouragement. Michael and the ever complaint twins frowned before taking one last glance at Peter and exiting the room.
Wendy took a deep breath before turning to face her parents again. "Father it's true. He's ill…and he cut his hand." Wendy glanced in the direction of Peter's bandaged hand. "I couldn't leave him. It would be unlady like."
"Don't you presume to-" George began before his wife stopped him.
"Of course not Wendy." She walked towards her daughter smiling serenely. Peter, his usual distrust of mother's shining true, backed away in kind. Mrs. Darling observed him sadly before turning once more to Wendy. "Why don't you explain everything to your father while I make sure Peter's hand is all right."
Wendy looked back at Peter, her doubt obvious. He seemed to be silently begging her not to leave him alone but what choice did she have? She needed to explain to her father. "All right." She replied wearily, nodding gently to Peter.
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Peter fidgeted on the chair in the Darling's sitting room. He picked at his ragged trousers, at his bandage at anything to keep from looking at the lady sitting across from him. He could hear Wendy and her father talking loudly in the drawing room next door, but their voices were too muffled to make out any words.
"It's been some time since you've visited, Peter." He glanced up to find Mrs. Darling keenly observing him, the same serene smile on her lips.
He glanced around the room nervously, not quite sure she required an answer. Sighing, he shrugged. "I suppose. We don't have clocks and calendars in Neverland." He got to his feet and began inspecting the furniture in the room.
"Then how to you know how old you are?"
He looked at her sharply, quite certain she was making a point but not knowing if she was mocking him. He caught his newly unfamiliar refection in a mirror on the wall behind her. "I don't." He replied, walking past her to stare at himself once more. He sighed, disgusted at the changes he saw in himself. He looked so bizarre reflected in the Darling's lavishly furnished house, he, a wild 'boy' with a dirty face and no shoes. He noticed Mrs. Darling watching him in the mirror. He wanted to scream at her to stop. How dare she look at him like that, with pity in her eyes. This was all her fault. If not for her Wendy would not have returned to London. She would have stayed with him in Neverland where they would have been young forever. But for her mother she had returned and nothing had been the same.
Any actions on his part were stopped by the drawing room door opening and Wendy and George entering. Mrs. Darling watched with half amusement, half apprehension as Peter's face lit up at the sight of Wendy. Wendy too seemed pleased. This coupled with her husband's pained and tired expression convinced her that Peter was staying, for tonight at least.
"Wendy?" Peter asked nervously, his attention solely fixed on her.
"Oh, Peter, father has said, that is if you want to…"She sighed, biting her lip. "You can stay."
"Stay." He began backing away from her, casting furtive glances to the window.
Wendy sensed his shift in emotion and reached out to him. "Not forever, Peter. Just until you feel better." He did not seem convinced, as he began to edge towards a window, his breathing rapid and shallow. "Just stay tonight, Peter. Then, tomorrow, we can talk about your…changes." She implored.
He looked down to his hand, pulling at the bandage. "Just tonight?"
"Yes, we won't make you do anything you don't want to do." She smiled brightly as Peter looked up, seemingly more up beat.
"All right, it quite late enough." George interjected, a little uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged between the two young people. "To bed with everyone or we shall be fit for nothing tomorrow." He walked uncomfortably to Peter's side. "You can sleep in the elder boy's room." He informed Peter. "They are away apprenticing for the summer months."
Peter eyed him suspiciously, his distrust of the man obvious. "Will you come with me, Wendy." He asked.
"Certainly not! I-"
"George, dear." Mrs. Darling interrupted her husband, hearing the innocence of Peter's voice and understanding his request. "Wendy must go to her own bed, Peter." She explained. Peter scowled and refused to make eye contact with her. "But I shall make sure you are comfortable." She smiled brightly, even though Peter's eyes were down cast.
"Come." George insisted and ushered them all to bed.
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Peter squirmed on the soft mattress. His back ached and he longed for his own cosy bed beneath the tree. The ceiling frightened him. It was so high and shadowed, not at all like the one in his home. There the tree's roots twisted and curved across the low ceiling and he would imagine shapes in them until sleep took him. He pulled at the pyjamas Wendy's mother had provided. They was heavy, over bearing and uncomfortably hot. With a grunt of frustration he sat up and pushed the covers off. He leapt from the bed and stripped the offending clothes from his body leaving behind only a pair of rough shorts he wore while swimming in the mermaid's lagoon. He attempted to sleep for a little longer but Peter was never famed for his patience. Biting his lip he quietly stole across the room and to the door. Holding his breath he opened the wooden frame and crept into the hall. Slowly he ascended the stairs, wincing whenever a floorboard creaked beneath him. He made his way to Wendy's room and quietly opened the door, watching what he knew to be her parent's room intently. He stole into her refuge, closing the door behind him.
Wendy was not sleeping as he had expected her to be. In truth she was wide awake. The fact that Peter had returned, almost grown not with standing, and was sleeping downstairs was enough to prevent her any chance of rest. She sat up straight when she heard someone enter to room.
"Peter!" She hissed, pulling the blankets close. "What are you doing?"
He stopped in his tracks, remembering how Wendy's mother had insisted he remain in John's bed. "I…I couldn't sleep." He bit his lip, slowly edging closer to Wendy.
Wendy sighed. She remembered how Peter used to toss and turn in his sleep. He would mumble and cry out, fighting imaginary demons. She would sit with him through these nightmares, stroking his hair until he calmed down. Once she was reassured he was dreaming contentedly she would return to her own bed. She never spoke of the nightmares to Peter. In fact she wasn't certain he remembered them himself. But still, she would have to convince him to remain in the elder boy's room. He father would likely have him arrested if he found him in her room again. "Peter, you must return to your room."
"It's not my room!" He retorted forcefully, careful to keep his voice low. "I don't live here…" He added softly.
"Oh I know that, Peter." She slipped from her covers and approached him, smiling sadly. "But you must do as father asks. He does not approve of you being in my room."
"Why?" Peter whined, sounding immensely childish.
Wendy could not help but smile. In essentials Peter would never change. She mulled over the question, wondering how best to phrase her response. "Well…things are different in England, Peter. It's not…proper for you to be here."
"What's wrong with me?" He asked haughtily, looking down his nose at her.
"It's a little hard to explain…girls and boys, they…well, oh…I don't know Peter. It is silly." She smiled at him, hoping to appease him. "But while you stay here you must not anger father. All right?" She looked up at him awaiting a response.
Peter pouted, folding his arms over his chest. "Fine." He mumbled, although he did not make a move to exit her room.
"How about I make sure you're comfortable down there?" She nodded, wishing she could talk to him but knowing the consequences of such actions.
Peter sighed long and hard, a long suffering look on his face. "If you wish."
So together they descended the creaking stairs. Peter lamenting on how it was similar to many of their adventures, some of the mischief returning to his eyes. Silently they re-entered the boy's room. Wendy chuckled as Peter tripped over the discarded pyjamas he had left balled on the floor. "Come on, to bed with you." She attempted to sound commanding.
Peter moaned low in his throat, making a face at the soft mattress. "I don't like it." He whined. "It's like sleeping on a cloud, all soft and lumpy…it makes my back ache." Of course he was used to his own bed under the tree. Though covered in furs it was still more supportive of the soft down mattress.
"Well, how about this then." Wendy began stripping the bed and pulling all the linens onto the floor. In less than a minute she had a bed that more resembled a nest prepared for Peter on the floor. "We had to all do this after we came back from Neverland. It took Nibs months to get used to a mattress."
Peter eyed the make shift bed suspiciously before flopping unceremoniously onto the floor. He rearranged the covers as he saw fit until he was quite comfortable. Settled, he glanced up at Wendy. "Thanks."
She beamed at him. "Oh the cleverness of me!" Peter grinned playfully up at her. She blushed and forced herself to look away. "Well…" She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "I'll be off then, good-"
"You're leaving?!" Peter sat up straight.
"Yes Peter, I said-"
He interrupted her explanation. "Wendy! Please…I…" He glanced around the dark room, ashamed of his pleading tone.
Wendy sighed, coming to kneel next to him. She knew she could not possibly understand how strange and, frankly, terrifying this must be to Peter. In Neverland he was a force to be reckoned with, he had had a miniature army of followers, he had been known and respected…but in London, he was the lost boy. Everything was new and unusual to him, he was probably terrified. Not to mention the changes he was going through. Wendy knew Peter never wanted to grow up. He hated everything it represented and yet here he was, his body going through frightening changes and nothing he, or anybody else could do about it. "I'll stay until you fall asleep." She pulled the covers around herself to stave off the cold.
Peter smiled crookedly before lying back. He shifted a little until comfortable before turning to look at Wendy. She blushed once more as he held her gaze but this time did not look away. She reminded herself not to read anything into it. Peter had always been like that, he was not shy about eye contact. He had often looked at her, a question in his eyes, as she did 'unusual' things…like darning socks, washing her hands, things he himself could not do or was not bothered with. As she gazed back at him she was amazed at how little he had fundamentally changed. While his body had moulded itself into that of a young man his eyes retained their innocence. He looked up at her unashamedly even as sleep took him and his eye lids became impossible heavy. His last thoughts were of Wendy and her warm, comforting presence. As Wendy reluctantly left him sleeping she worried he would suffer nightmares alone…she need not of bothered. For the first time in many, many months Peter's dreams were untroubled.
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What an uneventful chapter! Things will actually happen in the next one, I promise. Including Peter's reaction to all things English…and the entrance of a possible suitor for his Wendy!