Changing Toward Love
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Notes of the Authoress Anthy: Of course doing this is far more valuable than doing my Biology homework! Of course it is! I'm, ahh ... quite tired, and so, so sick of Biology. I'd love to just ... oooh ... burn my textbook. Alas. Poor student me. Mmm ... my life is not so bad right now, though. It could be much, much, much worse. I'm quite lucky, really ... ahh well, this chapter. I think it's rather sad ... a lot of lying. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own the book or the movie(s), but whoever does should be so proud (James M. Barrie, I mean you)! Please, don't sue me. ;_; I am just a poor romantic!
Review Questions Answered! No questions. *sniff*
And now the story!
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I see you've met Peter, Caleb, Mrs. Darling rang out cheerfully as Wendy, Caleb and, trailing far behind, sulking and angry, Peter descended the stairs into the front room. Oh Wendy dear, what lovely flowers! Are those from you?
Yes, Mrs. Darling, Caleb said proudly, flashing Wendy's mother a brilliant smile. Peter cringed, feeling his fingers begin to quiver uncontrollably.
I've come to put them in a vase, Wendy said numbly, and as she turned away from her mother toward the kitchen, she looked at Peter briefly, raising her eyebrow as though curious and frowning. But just as quickly, she turned away and disappeared through the large kitchen doors.
Silence fell into the Darling front room as Peter glared at Caleb's back, his opponent sending only very short, irritated glances in his direction.
Mrs. Darling said, beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. I'll let you boys get acquainted ... you being the same age and all, you could become great friends!
Oh yes, Peter said icily. I'm just dying to know more about you. What did you say your name was again?
Caleb Walter Williams, Caleb nearly hissed as Mrs. Darling walked briskly out of the room with a slightly perturbed smile.
Peter said, smirking.
And you are Peter Pan, said Caleb, highly aggravated now. Such a ... simple name. Do your parents find the alliteration of such a name endearing?
The ... what?, Peter asked, frowning and growing more and more irritated with each passing word.
Caleb merely raised a thick eyebrow, smirking himself in a much more twisted way.
Peter has no parents, a gentle voice said from the side. Caleb and Peter both started, turning to where Wendy, a soft blur of sky blue and auburn, stood without expression. You should really be more sensitive, Caleb.
Caleb stiffened at this, frowning. He said nothing.
Wendy turned her eyes then from her fiancée to Peter, who was staring at her openly, his eyes distant. Why did he loathe Caleb so? It was truly that they were very, very different ... in more ways than the obvious, she knew ... but Caleb had really done nothing to Peter. Peter had simply hated him from the start.
But ... why? Wendy could only frown. She had a theory, a simple one at that, but ... she couldn't bear to accept it. It wasn't possible.
She walked forward quietly, finally turning away from Peter's calm gaze, and set the heavy crystal vase filled with water and sweet white lilies in full bloom on the side table that was next to the staircase.
My love, said Caleb suddenly, and Wendy looked up, slowly taking her hands from the vase.
I was hoping, he began, That we might venture out this afternoon. We could take a nice, long walk, and afterwards, I'll take you out to dinner. How does that sound?
Wendy shot a brief glance toward Peter, but knew that saying no was not an option.
Of course, Caleb, she said easily ... much too easily, as though rehearsed. I would love that.
Caleb said, in the same rolling tongue as her mother. I'll get your coat.
He walked over to the coat rack near the door and did so, walking up to Wendy with a smile. He held her coat out and open for her, bending his head forward slightly to whisper in her ear. Peter felt his body tense, knowing he was whispering sweet nothings.
We will discuss this outside, he said in one tight breath, and then his face once again broke into a smile, and he pulled away.
Shall we, love?, he said loudly, and Wendy pulled her coat around herself protectively, staring at the floor.
she called weakly, She didn't turned toward him, however, and, as Caleb gently took her by the elbow, she allowed herself to be lead placidly out the front door, never looking back so much as once.
Peter stood frozen on the staircase, wincing as his heart was sliced open by some horrible, aching sword.
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Caleb and Wendy walked out of the front door slowly, the picture-perfect image of the perfect couple. They turned together, stepping off the Darling front porch, and then, suddenly, his hold on her elbow tightened.
Roughly, he shoved Wendy toward an alcove between the house and its front stairs.
Who is he?!, Caleb growled, pulling Wendy closer to him by roughly yanking forward her arm.
Wendy whispered, her eyes wide.
Who do you think?, Caleb hissed. That ... that ... overgrown child! I saw him holding your hand, you know. I was watching through the space between your bedroom door and its frame!
Wendy trembled, No, no, you don't ... understand ... he was just trying to explain what he-
Don't lie to me!, Caleb whispered harshly. Wendy winced as his grip on her arm tightened painfully. You'll end it. Now.
Wendy gasped, is nothing to end, Peter is ... is ...
Caleb asked,
He's ... he's like a brother to me, Wendy whispered sadly, swallowing hard as she tried to hold back her tears.
I would tell you to get him the hell out of your house, Wendy dear, Caleb said slowly, But ... there really isn't a need, is there? Because in a few weeks, you'll be all mine, and you'll be living in my house. You'll be sleeping every night in my bed, with me ... and you can just forget to visit. Isn't that right?
Wendy breathed. Caleb scowled.
Yes what?!, he growled, and Wendy looked away from him, wincing a second time as her arm was once again squeezed painfully.
she whispered, incredibly close to tears. Yes, I ... I will be living with you, and I ... I will ... forget to visit.
That's right, Caleb said, grimly satisfied. I can't wait. Can you, Wendy dearest?
she breathed, and he reached up his hand, taking hold of her jaw and pulling it up, kissing her. Wendy stared up blankly at the sky as a single tear rolled down her cheek.
No ... ...'
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Peter lay once again on the plush parlor carpet, his arms behind his head and his legs apart, thinking. His eyes were locked on the ceiling despite the loud and eager noises that circled around him; the lost boys and Michael had found him, and as he was a symbol of carefreeness and adventure to them, they had immediately invited him to play.
And he had, for awhile. But now ... his body seemed drained of its own energy, heavy and weak somehow. The hairs on the back of his neck had remained bristled throughout his entire confrontation with Caleb, and they were still bristled just as before; he had a bad feeling about him. He was like Hook, a pirate who was elegant and sly ... he was much too similar to Hook.
Peter frowned, unable to rid himself of the nagging feeling of premonition within his breast. He couldn't help it; unexplainably, he was worried over Wendy.
Oy, Peter, said Curly, frowning. You brood too much. You're like John an' his books.
It's true, Nibs said knowingly. You do brood quite a lot. What are you thinking on?
Peter said quietly, still staring.
Nibs and Curly looked worriedly at the others, who in turn all looked at Peter, still and silent. They could not grow used to seeing their formal leader, always so joyful and lighthearted, so sullen now.
That's the worst thing to brood about, Slightly noted. Nothing. It means your mind is empty, but you just can't stop looking.
The others nodded knowingly, looking suddenly quite sullen themselves.
Please Peter, Nibs encouraged, Get up and play with-
And just then, Peter sat up like lightning bolt. The front door had just clicked open, and in a gentle swirl of pale blue, Wendy silently entered.
He heard a muffled male voice say, Goodnight, dearest, from outside, and with that, the door was politely closed. Wendy looked up, and immediately, their eyes met.
She smiled in a very fragile way.
Hello again, Peter, she said softly, and then turning her head toward the others fondly, Boys. Are you having fun?
Oh, loads of fun, dear sister, said Slightly loudly, happy for the attention. I've been murderin' some rogue pirates, but that's all really.
Don't be daft, one of the twins snapped at him. I killed you ten minutes ago!
Slightly yelped. The wound was not fatal!
And so they set to arguing, and Wendy smile distantly. Her brothers could never fail to make her smile. She lingered on them, but then, slowly ... she let her gaze turn toward Peter. Her little smile faded.
Come with me, Peter, she said softly. I ... I should like to talk with you.
S-Sure, Wendy, Peter said shakily, nodding. Wendy looked at him for a moment, her face pale and expressionless, and then, with a slight twirl of her dress, she turned and headed up the stairs. Peter lapped at her heels, watching her hair fly softly back like a gentle spring breeze. Lovely ...
They were at the bedroom door. Wendy turned to him, smiled slightly ... but Peter found he could not smile back. Deep inside, he knew her tense smile wasn't real at all, and therefore, he could not return it with a true one, nor did he want to pretend. He had grown so tired of pretending.
And so, without a word, Wendy opened the door and stepped inside. Peter followed, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
I've been thinking about what you said, she began softly, looking not at him but wistfully over her bed and out the window, her eyes wide and distant.
You ... you have?, Peter questioned cautiously.
Wendy replied, and I have decided that ... I would love ... to be your mother.
At this, Peter froze. He frowned, surprised but utterly dissatisfied; he did not want this. He did not need a mother. Especially a mother that was Wendy ... of course, she had been a wonderful one, but never ... never had she truly been his. He had always been Father. Never, never could he be her son.
he said softly. I don't want that.
A sister, then, said Wendy, turning to look at him. Peter blinked; the sun shone in through the window behind her, silhouetting her into a shining shadow. He did not reopen his eyes.
Not a sister, he whispered, looking into darkness. Had his eyes been open, he might have seen it: the dark clouds in her blue eyes breaking open for just one brief moment as Wendy felt a tiny beat of hope.
But it was a fading beat, and not one she could dare to cling to.
A friend, then, she said resolutely. That's the ... the only thing left, really ... unless you don't wish to be my friend. I ... I would understand, if you ...
Don't be like that, Peter said, opening his eyes now. They were distant like hers for a moment- the hours of her presence had changed him, morphed part of his own spirit into her dejected one. I would never turn down your friendship.
Wendy wanted badly to smile at this, but there was so much more swirling inside herself, clouding her thoughts and blackening her perception of everything in her world, that she couldn't. That one spark of happiness had been easily and quickly overwhelmed.
she said, suddenly. It was better this way, really. So much better ... simpler, to put it all out in the open. I want you to accept that I ... have grown. I am to be married, Peter. Just ... just try to understand ...
I can't, Peter said firmly. I don't understand it at all. I ... I don't believe that you really ... His firmness softened, and he fought the urge to look away from her.
Why must you hate him so?, Wendy asked, avoiding his questions. He hasn't done anything to you.
I just have a bad feeling about him, said Peter, as though it were obvious that Caleb was not a decent human being, obvious that his own assumptions were always right. Wendy frowned, looking back toward the window.
That is ... silly, she said quietly. Caleb is ... wonderful.
She sighed then, and slowly, she walked to her bed and sat on its edge, her pale blue skirt puddling in soft waves around her legs. She stared out the window, her face hidden.
Peter frowned, hearing the pauses in her voice. Cautiously, he crept forward, kneeling onto the bed from the side opposite of the side Wendy was sitting; her back was to him. He knelt on the bed, slowly crawling across so that, in just a few moments, he was sitting lazily on her bed behind her; behind her and quite near.
Wendy turned toward him, her lips spread open in surprise, but she did not protest.
Do you love him, Wendy?, he asked softly. She froze, rigid; and then shakily, she relaxed, heaving a great sigh as gently as she could bear to, trying her best to hold back her tears.
she lied, because it was simpler that way. Better that way ... for both of them. Neither of them would hurt each other ever again.
Peter felt his body and soul tense. His fingers curled into a tight fist, ruthlessly gripping her soft bedsheets. He hadn't wanted it to be true, but it was. Wendy loved him ... loved Caleb. It would be cruel to do anything to separate them, to kill Wendy's chance at happiness.
He would let it be, no matter how much it ate away at him inside.
There was one thing, though, that he could not let be. He would finish his confession. He would let Wendy know the truth- the whole truth ... and when he was confident that she understood, he would return to Neverland forever, growing or not.
First, though, he supposed he had to understand. He would ask about love, and if it turned out that he ... then ... she would know. And he would disappear, leaving her to her bright future.
he said softly. What is love?
Slowly, she turned to him, wet streaks on her pale face. He froze inside- why was she crying? When had she begun to cry again?
Love, Peter, she began softly, so quietly that he could barely make out her words, is ... love is ...
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-- End Chapter Nine --
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Ending Notes: Sort of a cliffhanger? I wouldn't, usually, but I need someplace to start for the next chapter. ^^;; It's sometimes quite hard to begin each chapter, you know? This one was also hard to end ... I think their conversation will be a bit long, so I didn't want to put it all into Chapter Nine. I'm sorry if this isn't okay. ;_;
Beta readers: Thank you so much for the kind response! I will be reviewing my emails and deciding how to go about this very soon. That's all I'll say, I suppose. If you're still dying to be a beta: anthy17@hotmail.com. But otherwise, just ... thank you!
Please do come back for Chapter Ten ... I'll try my best to do a good job of it. ^_^
