Changing Toward Love

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Notes of the Authoress Anthy: It's 2:22 AM, a time of good luck! A good time for chapter-finishing, I guess. Mmm ... hurrah for the birth of Chapitre Cinq (embrasse-moi, Peter!). I proud to say that this chapter was not, like chapters one through three, conceived with Dove chocolate. Nyah ... just my good old random writing fingers ... mmm-hmm. Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews I've gotten so far! I love you all for this! *feels so special* And thank you, as always, for reading CTL. I'm happy you're enjoying the story thus far.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own the movie or the book, but whoever does should be so proud! Please, don't sue me. ;_; I am just a poor romantic!

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Rays of shifting sunlight poured through the large window, flooding the bed with not moonlight, but daylight. The birds began to chirp in the overgrown tree just outside, and a few hours later the street began to once again come alive with the bustling inhabitants of London, out for morning strolls and early Saturday morning shopping.

When the brightness hit Wendy's eyes, she moaned quietly, hesitantly letting them flutter open. She yawned, mumbling incoherently to herself ... how could it be morning already? She felt as if she'd gotten very little sleep ... and on her face ... why did her skin feel tight, as though tears had dried upon them? She blinked, adjusting her mind back to reality ...

It was then that she first felt it, realized it. A warm, breathing weight was resting on her chest and stomach, snoring lightly.

She lifted her chin, her eyes widening in horror: a half-naked man was asleep on top of her! She screamed, though it was very choked from her shock, and she sat up as quickly as possible so as to run away in terror.

She didn't take her eyes off the man, but then she realized that he was more a young man than an older one, a boy about the age of seventeen or eighteen. And his clothes ... you could hardly call them clothes. He was covered in waxy leaves and wines, his chest mostly bare.

The clothes looked so familiar to her, but ... no. No ... it couldn't be.

She let her eyes drift to the boy's head, and she took in his curly dirty blonde hair ... his skin was tan, his arms muscular and strong, his body taut with strength and health ... his skin was so bronze, in fact, that it seemed to glow like copper in the sunlight. Could it be that this was ... was ...

She had to see his face, and she knew that she would in a minute ... she had just screamed and sat up, after all. She'd awakened him ... his head was stirring, and he groaned, but then did no more.

Wendy whispered, hesitantly reaching out her hand and placing it on his shoulder to give it a soft shove.

The boy groaned again, and Wendy realized suddenly that his head was now resting in her lap, her bunched-up nightgown his pillow. She blushed deeply, pushing his shoulder again.

This time he stirred more, and then, he raised his head in curiosity.

She'd been trying to awaken him, of course, but when she finally did, it startled Wendy. Her eyes widened as he stared up at her, looked deep into her eyes with slightly parted lips. Her blushed deepened, and then ... she looked back at him. She really looked back at him, into him ... those eyes.

They were a mischievous shade of blue-green, though the look in them now was much calmer than she had remembered, much ... gentler, somehow. She remembered none the less, however ... these eyes ... these were the eyes of Peter Pan.

Her heart stopped, and she raised her hand to her mouth in shock. Was she dreaming, even though sunlight was streaming in her room? Her lips began to quiver ... Peter was ... he'd never returned. She had lost all hope that he would, and now he was in her bed, sleepy and confused. Now he had returned, now, when it was too late ...

P-Peter .. ?, she whispered again, still looking down at him in shock.

he said softly, lifting his head a little and yawning. Hey ... are you awake?

Wendy nodded, too shocked now to speak. It was Peter ... it was him ... it was Peter Pan, he had come back, and he was ... here ... Peter ... her Peter ...

Are you sure you're awake?, Peter asked, propping his head up with his hand on his chin.

Wendy nodded again, feeling her chest tighten and swell at the same time. The old feelings, that inescapable longing for him ... it was all flooding into her again. Her chin began to quiver as well as her lips, her eyes growing watery as she looked down into her lap. Surely, she was dreaming still?

That's ... good, Peter said, looking up into Wendy's shocked face. Are you ... all right? You're pale, and ...

Wendy said softly, her voice shaking. Are you really here?

Yes, I am, Peter replied, his lips curling down into a frown. He sat himself up, shifting into an Indian-style sitting position on her bed. He stared at her, and she thought then, for a moment, that she saw his eyes ... soften.

Wendy gasped. Why now? Why come back ... now ...

Look at me, Wendy, Peter commanded, adverting his eyes slightly.

I'm staring at you, was her reply. Her jaw loosened considerably as she did just as she said she was, unable to take her eyes from his glowing copper body. She felt her entire body shaking, trembling with emotion. Peter Pan had ... come back to her?

Peter said, quietly. Really look at me. Find the ... change.

And so, Wendy stared ... her heart pounding harder and harder each moment, she stared. And then, finally ... she saw it. His body, while still amazingly athletic and tan with the pleasure of living out of doors, was ... taller, and wider, and simply bigger in general. It was not ... the body of a boy.

She gasped loudly, her eyes moving up to his face. His face had changed ... the eyes were still the same, the lips that held his melting smile were still there, but his face was ... different. It was ... older?

Wendy choked, You ... you're ... you grew up!

Not all the way, Peter muttered, looking down at the silky bedcovers.

You look like you're older than John, even, Wendy said, her eyes widening. I ... I don't understand. I thought you had been in Neverland all ... all ... this time.

I was, Peter said firmly, pressing his lips together tightly.

Then how?, Wendy gasped. How could you ... grow like this if you were in Neverland?

I don't know!, Peter snapped, frowning. That's why I came here ... I thought ... I thought if I saw you, I could figure out why this is happening, and then stop it. I thought you might know ... why.

Know why you're growing up?, Wendy questioned, shocked. Peter nodded, adverting his eyes once again.

I ... I have no idea, Peter, she said slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. How can you just ... I haven't seen you for the past five years, and then you just fly into my life one day and expect me ... to know the answer to something like this?

I know it has something to do with you, Peter mumbled, lowering his face slightly toward his lap. The ache in him had swelled at this, affirming his words somehow. He looked up at her ... saw her shocked blue eyes, her lips that were full and pretty, tempting even when she frowning. Wendy ... he suddenly wished they didn't have to talk at all. It was ruining everything ...

Well, I haven't the faintest ... idea, Wendy said, her voice trailing off. Peter felt his eyes widen as he stared at her ... were her lips shaking?

I ... I never thought you would come back, she continued softly. I gave up hope of that so long ago ...

I .., Peter began honestly, searching for the right words, I never ... thought I would, either. Wendy, I thought you'd forgotten me. Haven't you ... grown up?

I don't know, Wendy answered, turning her head to the side so that her flowing auburn hair hid half of her face. But I do know that ... I have never forgotten you. I ... I missed you terribly, Peter Pan.

I know, Peter whispered. He felt a terrible, heavy sadness growing in him at these words, at the sad way Wendy had turned away from him. He again felt the desire to hurt himself, to change everything that was too late now to change.

I just ... , Wendy began, her voice shaking terribly.

No, Peter thought. She's going to cry again ... I can't let her cry again. He winced, his mind racing for ways to cheer her. And then, suddenly ... he remembered the little bundle that he had tied so tightly and carefully to his belt.

Peter whispered. Look, Wendy. I brought you a gift.

A gift?, Wendy questioned, turning back toward him halfway, surprised.

Peter answered proudly, reaching to his side and untying the green little bundle. He held it out in the air for a moment, and then let it fall with a small plop into Wendy's lap.

Wendy looked down at the little package wrapped in large, waxy green leaves, her elegant eyebrows raised in curiosity.

Go ahead, Peter urged. Open it!

After looking up shyly at him for a moment, Wendy bent her head to the little bundle in her lap and began randomly tugging on the vine-like strings holding it together. A few minutes and many little tugs and untanglings later, the strings slipped and the leaves fell away silently.

She laughed quietly as a very large handful of thimble-shaped acorns poured into her lap, rolling around her thighs and settling finally in the very center and bottom of her bowl-shaped, nightgown-covered lap.

She giggled a little, looking up at Peter with her first genuine smile.

They're all kisses, Peter said softly, For ... for you.

And at this, Wendy's smile slowly faded. She lifted her hand suddenly, pressing it in various places on her chest until finally, she found the little lump she'd been searching for. Reaching behind her neck, she tugged on the silver chain and pulled a pierced acorn out of her nightgown.

My kiss, Peter said, smiling. He beamed at Wendy, feeling for a moment that his heart was soaring over a sparking sea. She'd kept his kiss all this time! She hadn't thrown it away in anger and pain as he'd feared ...

See, Peter, Wendy whispered. I kept it all this time. I kept on ... waiting ... for you.

Her eyes met his, and Peter felt his breath stop at the look in them- the sparking blue was now dark and deep, cold and swirling like the unreachable depths of some mysterious sea. Her eyes were the homes of mermaids- of pain, and sorrow.

He winced as his heart seized, realizing that if she had thrown away the kiss long ago ... he would have undeniably deserved it. And she ... she would not have.

Peter whispered, surprised for a second time at the soft, pleading voice that was not his own. I ... I just ... I thought that ...

Wendy whispered, her voice strained and nearly inaudible, a voice not intended for his ears. She lifted her head, her eyes moist and searching.

Ahh ... yes?, Peter answered, his eyes widening.

Might I give you a ... a hug?, she asked, biting the inside of her bottom lip. I just ... want so badly to ... touch you. I want to see if you're really ... here ... with me ...

What's a ... hug?, Peter asked, tilting his head slightly to the side in confusion.

Wendy let out a quiet choking sound as a single warm tear slid down her cheek. Oh, Peter. The cleverness of you ...

Peter's blue-green eyes widened even more in shock as Wendy suddenly collapsed forward, wrapping her warm arms around him in a tight, desperate embrace. He let out a muffled gasp as his body was pulled up against hers, his face suddenly buried in her soft, warm hair.

Peter sighed contentedly, oblivious for a moment to her tears as Wendy held him tight to her, her arms surprisingly strong. Sword-fighting, storytelling arms ... arms that gave very warm ... hugs ... that made his heart stop beating ...

Wendy closed her eyes tight, letting the warm tears spill down her cheeks. It was really Peter, here in her embrace. It was truly him ... simple, naive Peter ... who had somehow grown with her despite his magic ...

Peter felt them then on his neck and cheek ... the same warm wetness as the night previous ... and the panic again overwhelmed him. How ... how could she cry while doing something that felt so ... good? No, no ... he could never let Wendy cry ... he would make it so that somehow, she would never need to again ...

Peter whispered softly, pulling back only a little, just so that he could see her gentle face. He had been right; warm tears were sliding down her cheeks.

he repeated softly, Please don't cry ...

He reached up his hand and rubbed away the bead of a tear with his thumb, and then smiled a little, warmly, as he stared into her moist blue eyes. He watched as her jaw loosened and her lips parted ... her full, soft pink lips ...

Don't be sad, Wendy, he whispered. She was still his fairy-girl, still his Wendy when they were close like this. You don't have to ever cry because of me again, because I ... I'll ... I will ...

Wendy whispered suddenly, her eyelids drooping.

Peter whispered. Well ... always cheer you ...

Wendy asked, and Peter felt his cheeks begin to burn as he realized just how close he was to her face. He could feel her warm, steady breath on his cheek, and her words were so clear, despite being so quiet.

I don't know, Peter breathed. But then, in that moment ... he did know. He knew how he could cheer Wendy, how he could comfort his forever and always fairy-girl ... he could just ... give to her ... what she had given to him. He could give her ... the other kind of kiss.

Some other part of him protested this ... this meant feeling, and feeling had been forbidden forever ... but Wendy ... Wendy had somehow become the exception to that rule. He didn't care, anyway. He wasn't thinking. He just wanted to take away her tears.

Slowly, he closed his eyes and tilted his head, leaning down toward her as his hand went from her tearstained cheek to her soft, warm hair. He tangled his fingers in it, leaning down further as Wendy's eyes, too, began to close, her chin lifting just slightly ...

And then, the door suddenly flung open, the doorknob hitting the wall with a loud bang. Mr. Darling stood in the doorway, his dark eyes wide with horror.

he yelped. Who is that strange boy in your ... your ... your bed?!

she gasped as Peter jumped away from her, startled. This was ... her father? What miserable timing ... but ... wait ... had he been about to kiss Wendy? He suddenly couldn't remember exactly why, couldn't think of the worded explanation ... he was going to kiss her? But who had said that he ... loved her? He couldn't love. He had never loved.

Who is he?!, Mr. Darling screamed. Young man, get out of my daughter's bed this instant before I come in there and ... !

Father, you don't understand, Wendy pleaded. This is ... this is ... Peter Pan!

Peter ... Pan?, Mr. Darling asked, dumbfounded. In ... my daughter's ... bed? I ... I was beginning to think that it had all been some story you ... or a dream that I ... you! I don't care if you are Peter ... Pan ... get out of my daughter's bed now, or else I'll ...

Wendy whined, blushing deeply.

Peter raised an eyebrow, startled from his thoughts. He looked from Mr. Darling to Wendy, Wendy to Mr. Darling, not intimidated in the least.

he said haughtily, leaning back onto the silky blue bedcovers.

Mr. Darling gasped incredulously. Why? Well, because you're ... you're ...

A boy, Wendy offered, her blush deepening as she looked shyly over toward her window.

Mr. Darling shouted. Exactly! A boy! So out! Now! Out!

Peter simply raised an eyebrow in curiosity, not moving an inch until lazily, seemingly by his own independent choice, rose from his Indian-style sitting position near Wendy and hovered easily above the bed.

Mr. Darling's jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock.


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-- End Chapter Five --

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Ending Notes: It hurt me more to write it than it hurt you to read it, trust me on this, loves. I wanted them to kiss, oooh, I did, I did. But ... they just can't kiss this early. I'm sure you can figure out why by rereading Peter's brief thoughts about love after being interrupted from following his heart.

I have so many reviews! Like, forty! ^_^ I was pretty sure I was going to get about as many reviews as there are Lost Boys, but ... nope! I am a lucky woman. I just posted Chapter Four ... heh, it's so weird to finish this chapter and then think to myself, Opp! 2:19 AM ... better post the chapter I wrote this afternoon!. I'm ahead of myself, I guess?

I really hope that you enjoyed this chapter. In the next chapter or so the new plot will be introduced (the old plot of having dealt with the past and the pain of it all). The present for Wendy ... heh. Things will keep changing for our loving couple, won't they? They always do.