Changing Toward Love

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Notes of the Authoress Anthy: I'm a bit crabby. My Internet service sucks so much. I'm going to work to have it changed. Blargh. I don't think I could write well now even if I strived too. Good thing the chapter is already finished, ehh? All I have to do is proofread 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!

And now the story!

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He slowly opened his eyes, holding them open only halfway as he continued to pant lightly, exhausted. He made a strange noise of contentment, something between a sigh and a whimper, as he stared up at the dark ceiling. He could not bear to move an inch, to ruin the feeling; his body was completely relaxed, every worry drained out of him so that all he could feel in his body and beating heart was calm, uninterrupted bliss.

The hand on his chest moved then, sliding slowly up his neck and to his cheek, turning his face toward its owner. He smiled warmly at what he saw, his mind in awe of her beauty. She lay there next to him, her blue eyes deep with love and satisfaction, the smile curving her lips so full and perfect that his heart nearly stopped. Her auburn hair fell wild around her bare shoulders and chest, some of it spilling onto his. She was lying on her side, her head resting in the curve of his shoulder.

she sighed, still staring at him happily. He reached out, stroking her hair back so that he could better see her beautiful face; she turned her head toward his hand, rubbing her cheek into his palm as her smile widened. Nothing could have been more perfect.

You're trembling, he whispered, and she was; a gentle tremor was running through her body, shaking even her fingertips with its vibration. She smiled still, and he saw that under the smile, she too was panting.

Don't worry, she laughed quietly. I'll be all right.

That was, he whispered softly, looking into her eyes as he continued to breath heavily, his voice reflecting the tiredness of his body, It was ... amazing ...

She smiled at this, quietly moaning her agreement.

He smiled and began stroking her hair once again, and with a little sigh, she rolled her head back onto his shoulder, pressing her bare body against his, her thighs touching his own, their ankles nearly overlapping. Her chest was pressed up against his arm; he could feel her breathing slowly in and out. He loved her.

I'm in love with you, he whispered suddenly, and she smiled into his shoulder as warm tears swelled from her heart to her eyes, overpowering her.

She said nothing, but raised her head and pressed her moist lips firmly but gently onto his shoulder, raising her body over him slowly as she kissed up the curve of his shoulder, then up his neck he gasped at this, closing his eyes for a second then past his jaw, and finally, she reached his ear.

I love you too, she whispered, then drew back her head and looked down at him affectionately. She smiled at his deep emerald eyes and disheveled hair, his body shining golden with sweat, his bare chest that rose and fell under her as he stared back.

Sighing softly, she leaned down and pressed her lips sweetly to his.

Immediately, he raised his chin and kissed her back, returning her kiss with equal passion. He embraced her warm lips with his only to have her pull away, gasping for breath, and then immediately lean down for another kiss.

He heard a begging noise come from his throat, and he raised his hands, placing them on her curved, bare waist, pulling her down further. He kissed her, and she kissed him, and it could not end

she gasped in a whisper between kisses. He felt his hands slide up her warm back, tangling into her hair

ohh, Peter!

Peter!

Peter! Wake up!

His eyes opened suddenly, and immediately the light above blinded him, stinging his eyes. He winced, shutting his eyes tightly, and as he did so he felt the warm hand on his shoulder pull away ... was it her voice that had awakened him?

Cautiously, he allowed one eye to slide open slowly. He saw a blurred, too bright outline of a figure, and then, as he allowed his other eye to open as well, she came into focus, her worried face pale and tense.

Are you all right?, Wendy questioned hesitantly. You ... you were moaning in your sleep ... had you been having a nightmare?

Peter thought about this, frowning ... there was a dream close to the edge of his mind, he could still feel it lingering there, rejected and fading...

He searched for and found it, snatching at it with its mind eye before it disappeared completely into the forgotten. Immediately, images began to wash over him ... beautiful, intense images with so much ... touch and ... heat ...

He felt hot blood rush into his cheeks, and he looked immediately past Wendy's face and toward the door, unable to look into her eyes. Why had he dreamt of her like ... like that ... with him? What could that possibly ... mean?

He whimpered, not understanding.

Wendy saw his burning cheeks and heard his whimper, taking it to be one of pain or nausea. She frowned deeply, the worry in her breast tightening.

You're flushed, she said tensely, and tentatively, she reached out her hand and pressed it gently, so very gently, to his forehead.

Peter winced as a stab of pain pierced his temple, and for the first time he felt the cloth bandages wrapped tight around his head. He groaned quietly; he was hurt? When had he been hurt? He couldn't seem to remember ... the only thing he could think of was the sudden pain and then, overwhelming even that, the dream ... that strange, warm dream ...

I'm sorry, Wendy whispered when he winced, pulling her hand away. You're ... you're burning up ... oh, and look at you! You're sweating!

And he was; the sweat shone over his entire body, dampening the bedsheets and blankets that were tangled around his legs. He'd woken up with it, and the burning his cheeks only seemed to make it much, much worse.

I'm, ahh, said Peter. All right ... I think ...

I think you have a fever, Wendy said persistently, frowning deeply. She was trembling slightly, worried ... she had been so relieved when he had finally moved ... she'd thought he was awakening.

But then he began to moan quietly and toss and turn, sweating, and she knew that he was having one of his terrible nightmares again. She hadn't been able to watch, wanting to comfort him so badly that she finally shook his shoulders to awaken him, calling his name.

He'd awoken sweating and flushed ... surely he had caught a chill the night before, outside on the cold stone ...

I'll fetch Mother, she said shakily, worried that his illness might be more than a cold. She'll know what to do ... I ... I'll be back soon. She turned to leave, her skirt rustling around her legs.

No, Wendy, Peter gasped, sitting up as quickly as he could in bed. He winced as his head suddenly began to spin from the sudden movement, pressing his hand to his tremble until the pain subsided. Wendy had meanwhile turned around, and was now looking at him uncertainly.

What is it?, she asked slowly, Do you need something else? Does anything else hurt?

What happened?, he asked quietly, his hand still tangled in his sweaty hair. How did I get this ... this hurt?

Wendy frowned, and for a moment she stood frozen, motionless as she stared at him sadly. She snapped out of it before she could give herself away, however, and walked to his bedside slowly.

You fell from my window, she whispered in a strained voice.

I ... fell?, he asked, confused ... but just as the words slipped from his lips, the memory of it all came flooding back to him. He had planned to go back to Neverland, had waited until Wendy had gone ... he had stepped up to the open window ... and through it, Caleb and Wendy ... kissing on the street ... his heart filling with lead ... falling ... falling ... a distant voice screaming ... branches ... pain ... darkness.

He frowned, closing his eyes in shame. He winced, not so much from his gash now, and again clutched a hand to his head, hiding his face.

Wendy questioned softly, Why did you want to go? Without saying so much as a good-bye to ... to everyone ...

he stuttered softly. He knew the reason, but he couldn't bear to tell her to her face why he had known that it was his time to leave. I ... I had to ... I thought ...

Did you think, she whispered, her lips trembling. That I ... that I wanted ...

And just at that moment, the door slammed open. Wendy jumped slightly, startled, and spun around as seven boys flooded the room, all talking excitedly at Peter, relieved that he had woken up. She stood among the chattering crowd and sighed softly to herself; it didn't matter now what was said, in any case. Her destiny was set.

Then, suddenly, she remembered. He was feverish ...

I'm going to fetch Mother, she said hurriedly, rushing out of the room; the boys, less Peter, did not hear her, much too interested in their newest and most dear brother.

Are you feeling all right, Peter?, Nibs asked, one of the first to rush into the room and thus one of the first to crowd around his bedside.

said Slightly with a frown. That's a nasty brut of a gash, isn't it, Tootles?

Right nasty, Tootles agreed, nodding. We heard how you fell from the window ... why did you fall, Peter?

You can't have forgotten how to fly already, frowned Michael. After all, you're ... you're Peter!

I didn't forget, Peter said quietly, finally getting a chance to speak. I just ... couldn't.

Curly questioned. What do you mean, couldn't?

Peter began shakily, I just ... lost all my ... happy thoughts.

The boys gasped, frowning at this ... they knew that there was only one thing that could sink the proud, joyous Peter Pan. A sort of quietness fell over them for a second, because they all knew but couldn't say they knew- but quickly, it passed.

Like with Hook ... right?, Slightly asked cautiously.

Peter said, sighing. Exactly like that.

Again, silence fell over the boys. Just as Hook's words had nearly cost Peter his life years before, his unhappy thought had to be causing him pain. They could not say anything to comfort him, their lips barred by the fact of Caleb ... they shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting between one another.

said Nibs, breaking the uneasy silence. Peter, you're ... all red.

Peter questioned, and if he had not been he was now ... he remembered that he had been blushing, and as he did he also recalled why ... in vivid, heated detail ...

His cheeks began to burn again, and he looked away from the boys, embarrassed.

I ... I had this really strange dream, he admitted, knowing that he couldn't possibly explain to the boys what he had dreamt. They wouldn't understand any better than him, surely, that and ... and it was such an ... an uncomfortable thing to dream of, so strange that he couldn't even place a word on it.

asked Slightly, interested. What of?

said Nibs suddenly, his eyebrows raising.

asked Slightly, irritated that Peter's reply had been so rudely interrupted, although he had not yet begun to answer.

Oh, you know, said Nibs, looking up toward the ceiling tensely.

Slightly punched his arm, frowning. Liar! Tell me.

Tell us!, chimed the twins, and a moment later, the other boys too began to beg, whining for Nibs to reveal his secret information. Peter, who had little interest either way, simply continued to advert his eyes to random parts of the bedroom, willing his burning blush away.

Nibs shifted his weight uncomfortably, then began jerking his head to the side, toward Peter. The boys' heads turned simultaneously in his direction, Peter still oblivious and distracted. They frowned, confused, for they saw nothing unusual about him.

Nibs continued to jerk his head violently up and down, and the boys frowned, raising their eyebrows at him as though he were deranged. Finally, Nibs gave up and sighed.

Look down, you idiots, he hissed between his teeth, and immediately, the boys looked from Peter's blank, turned-away face and down.

Six pairs of eyes widened, eyebrows raising. They looked around at each other silently, unsure of what to say to this.

said Nibs finally, clearing his throat. Peter was snapped from his thoughts, turning finally to the boys, though his eyes were still lost.

Nice dream you must've had, said Slightly with a raised brow. The other boys surrounding him now began to half-smirk, half-gawk immaturely.

said Peter, lying. It had been ... a wonderful dream ... but it had also been so horribly strange and ... and ...

It was confusing, he admitted at last. And ... and strange.

You're lucky Wendy was too busy worrying over you to notice that, said Curly slyly.

Notice what?, Peter asked quietly, furrowing his brow in confusion.

Ehrm, Peter, said Tootles hesitantly. Take a look ... down ... at yourself.

Peter blinked, confused, but did as he was advised, lowering his eyes down to his lap. He cringed, his eyes widening as he stared.

he stuttered. Ehrm, err ... what ...

Mm'hm, exactly, said Nibs, rolling his eyes to look around the rest of the room.

I ... I don't, he whimpered, confused and suddenly feeling very warm, his blood boiling like water, his muscle tense. Hesitantly, he raised the blanket up a little for a better view.

Is it broken?, he whimpered, a bead of sweat running down his face.

Ahh ... no, said Slightly, eyes wide, incredulous. The other six boys continued to stare at Peter, half not believing what they were hearing and seeing, half amazed at Peter's lack of knowing- after all, he looked so much older than them now.

What's wrong with it then?, Peter asked desperately.

Err ... nothing, said Nibs, who was exchanging dumbfounded looks with Slightly. Neither boy knew what to say, and certainly none of the other boys, who continued to stare at Peter with slightly frightened expressions, knew either.

But then, just as they were staring slack-jawed at Peter, the door swung politely openly. There, dressed and hair smoothed down, was John.

I just came to see if you were all- ehrm, he said, starting first in a vaguely worried voice and ending in a perturbed one. Immediately Peter threw the blanket back over his lap, hiding the situation at hand within his black pants. It was a pointless effort.

I did not see that, said John simply, turning around completely and heading out the door.

John, wait a second!, yelped Nibs. John froze and, mumbling to himself, turned slowly back around.

What exactly are you all discussing?, he asked hesitantly, as though he knew it was against his better judgment to ask at all.

A dream that Peter had, said Curly simply.

I see, said John, raising a eyebrow. Well ... I'll be leaving now.

You can't go anywhere!, cried Slightly, running around and blocking the exit of the bedroom door. You have to help first!

I really have nothing to contribute to this discussion, John said, blushing slightly. And in any case, you shouldn't be having it anyway! What if Mother walked by? Or Father? You'd all be in for it, you know you would!

Soap in our mouths for ten whole minutes, I expect, said Tootles solemnly.

snapped John. And with Peter feverish and weak.

I'm not weak!, Peter retorted resentfully, sitting up to his full height.

You're feverish?, asked Curly suddenly. I didn't know you were sick.

I don't think I am, said Peter thoughtfully. I just feel hot.

I told you to end this already!, John scolded, his blush deepening. Keep these things ... these things ... to yourselves!

They're my brothers, said Peter angrily. I'd tell them anything.

said John, not so much angered as embarrassed by all this. I'll just go then.

Nibs yelped again. You have to stay! Explain to Peter what ... what stuff is!

John questioned warily.

He doesn't understand, Nibs whispered, jerking his head toward Peter.

Understand what exactly?, John frowned, wanting terribly to break down the door and run for it.

You know, Slightly insisted. The talk.

What talk?, asked John, raising his eyebrow irritably.

Come on, you know what talk!, Nibs whined. The ... the talk with Father! About ... you ... you know!

I don't know what you're- ohh, said John, understanding mid-sentence. His face was immediately flooded with red.

Explain to him, Slightly insisted. He ... he thinks something's wrong with him! We can't have him thinking that!

That's true, I s-suppose, said John, growing increasingly uncomfortable.

So you'll do it?, Nibs asked hopefully.

Let me ponder that one for a second, said John sarcastically. Hmm ... ahh ... let's see ... no.

Slightly said scornfully. Just do it! You know we can't!

And why can't you?, said John resentfully. I thought Father had the ... the talk with you two already! Said you were so audacious that he thought he ought to do it before you two made fools of yourselves!

said Slightly, frowning. Well, that's true. He sent a wayward glance toward Nibs, who shrugged.

You still have to do it, he said as if it were a well known fact.

John said tensely. You two should know! Explain it to him! I refuse to involve myself in this ... this ... discussion!

More of a lesson, really, said Nibs thoughtfully. And anyway, we can't because Father's talk made no bloody sense. The entire thing was a ... ehrm ... Slightly, what was that word we learned in class?

What word?, asked Slightly, his forehead creasing in confusion.

The one that means talking about something while you're talking about something else in a more plain way, Nibs said, thinking. Hmm ... metamorph?

John corrected, frowning. And he ... oh, yeah, right.

I'll never be able to help Mother pull up her onions again, said Nibs mournfully. Slightly shook his head sadly in agreement.

Would you all stop talking about it and tell me what it is already?!, Peter demanded in an irritated voice.

All eyes turned to Peter, wide and hesitant.

said Nibs. Right then. John?

said John, staring at Peter icily. Unintimidated as always, he glared back, annoyed with the entire situation. He hated to be kept waiting.

asked Peter, raising his eyebrow. I'd .. I'd really like to know what's wrong with me now. He cringed, knowing that it probably had something to do with growing up and older, and hoping that it wasn't something bad. He didn't want to worry Wendy more than he already had ...

Clear out, boys, said John slowly. I'd like to talk with Peter ... alone.

He stood firmly in his place as the boys cautiously left the room, sending Peter reassuring glances as they went. Peter himself frowned apprehensively; John's frown was a severe one, his usually relaxed and aloof face now tense and focused completely on him.

The bedroom door finally closed with a loud click.

I have something to ask you, John said in a rigid voice.

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End Chapter Thirteen

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Ending Notes: I thought that a break was needed from the depressing-ness, so I wrote this. It does lead into important events that actually move the plot along, though, and it's important to me that Peter's sexual side gets some recognition and development. I hope that you found it amusing ... maybe I'm only good with angst, I don't know. ^^;; Oh, and ... I hope everyone who wanted some Peter and Wendy sugar enjoyed the opening dream scene.

Much, much love! Please come back for Chapter Fourteen! ^_^

P.S: If you want to contribute your opinion on the sexuality within CTL, please take the poll located at , the (future) site of this story. Danke danke!