Changing Toward Love

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Notes of the Authoress Anthy: Mmm ... tired ... martial arts in the morning ... must call boyfriend ... must ... tear fingertips from keyboard ... no more writing ... ahh ... ahh ... *falls asleep*. (There's a better Authoress Note at the end, heh!)

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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After John commanded them to do so, the boys sulked out of the bedroom, casting Peter encouraging looks as they went. Although they had all grown slightly apart from John, all seven knew that their oldest brother generally had the same respectful liking of Peter, even if he lacked the adoration that they still held on to. They knew that if he was going to talk with Peter, it was for an important reason. As far as they were concerned, their prince was in good hands.

And so, closing the door behind them, they retreated into the nursery. They idly tossed themselves onto beds and other objects- Tootles sat, legs dangling, on a toy chest, and Michael sat Indian-style on the floor, for example. They looked around at one another, grinning- leave it to Peter to bring out the worst of their mischievous spirits.

I never thought Peter to be one to have dreams like that, commented Curly, sitting cross-legged on his bed. Do you reckon he had them before, too, and just never told?

said Slightly, waving off the idea with his hand. It's because he got older.

Like us, Tootles said reflectively. The other boys all nodded, agreeing with this explanation.

I wonder how old you have to be before you get dreams like those, one of the twins said eagerly. Do you think we're any close? I want one.

Me too, Slightly sighed dreamily. A long one.

Aye, a long one, agreed Curly. Mother would be pleased; I'd get in bed right quick for one of those.

Slightly grinned, nodding. I bet Peter was happy.

No, you ninny, he was scared, Tootles commented. Did you see the look on his face? He thought he was going to split in half, he did.

Right terrified, nodded Curly. Really quite a pity. I wish he liked them; maybe then he'd want to tell us all about it.

They'll grow on him, I bet, said Slightly. Just give it time, I guess.

I once had a dream like that, said Nibs, who had all this time been watching the other boys, waiting for the best opportunity to interject his little story. He was lying on his back on the bed, his head hanging down over its edge, his feet up near the headboard.

Curly said, leaning forward excitedly. Was it a long one?

Oh, quite long, Nibs said eagerly. Very complicated, really.

said Slightly, grinning at his favorite partner in mischief. Do tell us, Nibs.

Oh, tell us, cried one of the twins happily. Please do!

Well, if you must insist, purred Nibs, grinning wildly. I was in this, err place. A place with lots of, uhm flowers. Yes, flowers! All over the place petals in the bed, too

The twins gasped at this mention of a bed, scandalized.

Go on, said Curly, who was leaning so far forward he looked as if he were about to fall over.

said Nibs happily. And then, uhh ohh, we got in the bed then.

Ooo, how bloody naughty!, giggled Slightly, blushing red.

And then, err I oh, I remember now, said Nibs. He paused for a long while, relishing the intrigued, flushed faces of his boyish audience. He soaked in the attention, smiling wickedly, for the best was yet to come. I put my hand up her sk-



The boys' heads all turned slowly in horror. Standing tall in the doorway like a massive, dark mountain encircled by a thrashing storm, was Mr. Darling. He cleared his throat again, staring knives at Nibs' forehead.

I, err, put my hand up her skkk Skills of Elementary Literacy textbook! I longed to stroke the, err, pages of that beautiful piece of work, Nibs stuttered feebly, correcting himself.

Oh it's all right Nibs, we've all done that, coughed Slightly. Err we do love so to learn. Don't we, ehrm, Tootles?

Oh, right so, said Tootles shakily. I'm absolutely ravished with school.

said Mr. Darling. All the boys suddenly seemed to notice him then, jumping up and grinning.

Father Dear!, sang Nibs, standing. Have you been listening in on our discussion about how much we love to attend school during the year?

Oh, we miss it so, said one of the twins sadly, who abruptly coughed.

I have indeed, said Mr. Darling icily. You boys enjoy fondling your textbooks?

said Nibs nervously. Well yes, of course! We can't resist that err essence of learning paper.

Anytime you wish to drop your act would be fine with me, Mr. Darling said slowly, narrowing his eyes at Nibs, who cringed. I heard every word of your previous discussion and I must say that I am disgusted! Where on Earth did you boys pick up on such sick ideas?

said Nibs. It just came naturally to us?

I'm sure, growled Mr. Darling. Everything comes naturally to you and Slightly. Surely it was you two who ringled this little chat.

choked Slightly, his voice quickly silenced with a glare from Mr. Darling.

You two are always together on these things, he said angrily. I'm disappointed in you, boys. This time, you've gone too far! You've crossed the line! As much as I do care for you, you must learn to use discretion in the bathroom! Now!

Not the soap again!, cried Nibs mournfully. That's no fair! We were just talking! We didn't do anything!

But Mother's soap tastes like rotten old fruit!, Slightly mourned, grimacing.

Mr. Darling only sighed, shaking his head slowly in anger that was carefully controlled.

Obviously the soap technique has done little to improve your behavior, he spoke aloud, more to himself than to the two whimpering boys before him. Perhaps we should have sent you to that Academy For Boys In Dire Need of Social Reprimand after all ...

Nibs paled visibly at least ten shades, and Slightly gulped.

Mr. Darling said slowly, drawing out the single syllable as he clenched and unclenched his fists. I think I will send for a registration packet straight away ...

Oh, please don't Father!, cried a voice from across the bedroom. Mr. Darling looked down at his youngest son, who was standing shakily from his sitting position on the nursery floor.

Mr. Darling said reprovingly. Please stay out of this.

But Father, it wasn't their fault, Michael said softly. The boys nodded hesitantly, tentatively showing their agreement. Mr. Darling frowned severely.

I will not tolerate you boys to grow up heedless and uncivilized, he began dryly. You all know how inappropriate that particular topic-

But they didn't bring it up like you said they did!, Tootles said suddenly. Mr. Darling's eyes shot toward him instead.

Is that so?, he said icily. Well then! Which one of you did? Go on! Who brought up this little shenanigan of a discussion?

The boys shifted their weight uneasily, looking around at each other to determine who, if anyone, would opt to speak first. Curly coughed.

Tell me, Mr. Darling repeated, grating his teeth. The boys cringed, looking around at each other more frantically now. No one, however, found they could explain.

said Mr. Darling, when the nursery fell once again into silence. I'll just assume it was you two then. Nibs, Slightly, to the bathroom. Now!

Slightly groaned, and Nibs hung his head resolutely, sighing. They turned toward the door together, sullen and increasingly nervous under Mr. Darling's deathlike stare.

You wouldn't really send them away, would you?, Michael asked as they turned toward the door in invisible chains.

I'm not ruling out the possibility, Mr. Darling snapped, muttering to himself. Michael whimpered, close to tears.

Out, boys, Mr. Darling commanded Nibs and Slightly, who continued to slowly, slowly shuffle toward the doorway.

An uneasy silence fell over the nursery. The boys looked around at each other, frightened and apprehensive. They frowned in confusion, not sure what to do. Nibs sighed as he walked out into the hallway.

Michael cried, running up to his father.

Mr. Darling spun around, scowling. Judging by the twisting of his usually calm face, he was in a truly foul mood.

What now?, he snapped, frowning down at his son.

It was Peter that got us to talking about it!, Michael yelped, then immediately stepped back a few feet. The boys all gasped, shocked that Michael had betrayed their leader, if only in words.

Mr. Darling gasped, his eyebrow raising in slight disbelief.

Oh, it's true, Curly said mournfully, surrendering. There was no point in protecting Peter now, after all- the truth was out. We went into Wendy's bedroom to make sure he was, you know, all right and everything ... and when we saw him, he had a bit of an erec-

A what?!, Mr. Darling nearly shouted, his jaw slackening in shock. Curly nodded shyly, cowering.

He had an, err, pleasant dream, Michael said meekly. And we were just ... you know ... we had it on our minds ...

How dare that young man poison my sons' psyches!, Mr. Darling hissed to himself. I'll have to have a very strongly worded talk with him!

He didn't mean to uhm, poison us, Curly said shakily. It wasn't his fault he dreamt of that sort of thing. He didn't even understand what it was.

He ... what?, Mr. Darling asked, perturbed.

He didn't get it, Nibs said nobly from the door. He doesn't know a thing about that ... ehrm ... subject ...

How can he not know anything about that?, Mr. Darling said, incredulous. He's ... he's nearly a grown man! In body if not mind, at least ...

I guess his body is just ahead of his mind a bit, Tootles said thoughtfully from the toy chest.

That's ridiculous, Mr. Darling snapped, frowning.

Now, there are two things you must understand about Mr. Darling before we move on, so that you'll better know why he proposed what he did. Firstly, Mr. Darling was a well-ordered man who liked everything to be just-so. Like columns of numbers and figures, he preferred his life to be organized, categorized, and most of all, predictable. To be frank, a young man knowing nothing about sex was abnormal, downright strange in fact, and these qualities made Mr. Darling very nervous. He was always ready to set peculiar things straight.

Secondly, Mr. Darling was a proud man who had been a lower level clerk for years. He liked asserting his authority over those he could, and he especially liked to hover above others, bestowing his wisdom down on them. Helping the ignorant made him feel better about his own status in life.

It was these two things that henceforth set Mr. Darling's mind in motion, contemplating the tricky topic of what to do with the still innocent Peter Pan.

Michael asked meekly. Are you quite all right?

Mr. Darling said distractedly, snapping out of his thoughts. Ahh ... yes. I was just ... thinking ... that perhaps I should have a little ... chat ... with Peter.

The eyes of all the boys widened in shock, for there were only a few things that Father ever wanted to with them about.

Ehrm ... chat?, Curly repeated, dumbfounded. You don't mean ... the chat?

It's not right for a man to know nothing about his natural role in life, Mr. Darling said reflectively. It's just downright ... absurd. Yes, yes, I think a chat with Peter is indeed in order ...

The boys looked around at each other, still in shock. Nibs paled now even more than he had at the mention of boarding school- after all, he had already had his with Father.

Father, I don't know if you--, Slightly began shakily, but it was far too late; Mr. Darling's mind was made up, and that was that. He didn't even hear Slightly, and in fact walked straight out of the nursery door.

I'll see you boys at lunchtime, he called absently as he walked briskly down the upstairs hallway. Slightly gulped, turning his head slowly toward Nibs, who was staring at the gaping mouths of the five boys in front of him.

This is bad, he said quietly, voicing the disturbed thoughts of each shocked-into-silence boy.


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Mr. Darling walked briskly down the hall, his mind intent on his purpose. He reached the closed bedroom door quickly, and smiled when he did. He was about to do a very good deed for a very lost soul, after all.

Inside, Peter was sitting up in bed, cradling his aching head in his hands. His mind was swimming from everything that John had thrown at him so suddenly. What had he meant by asking him to watch her eyes when she looked at Caleb? Was her wedding really a mistake, like John had said, or did she love him, making it right? She'd said that she loved him, hadn't she? He thought for sure that she had, but the more he thought about it in an attempt to be truly sure, the more he began to think that perhaps she hadn't.

She had made one thing very clear, however. She'd told him all about marriage ... about how it meant that two people loved each other so deeply they knew they wanted to be with one another forever ... for eternity ... and surely Wendy, knowing marriage so well, wouldn't want it if she didn't want Caleb ... forever. If she didn't love him.

But then his mind was filled with John's voice ... she wanted a family of her own, children of her own ... he didn't understand that, though, because she lived in a house filled with youth ... weren't the boys enough? He didn't understand her need for her own children ... and what did Caleb have to do with getting children, anyway? Was he going to buy them for her? That's what a husband was supposed to be good at, wasn't it, providing money? But hadn't Wendy said marriage meant love and eternity? She hadn't said that marriage meant having money ...

Peter groaned, raking his hands through his hair. He was terribly confused, completely lost in the swirl of voices within his head. Sometimes, the voice was Wendy's, calm and cold, telling him ...

A marriage is something only a mature heart can understand ...

Was that why he could not?

And marriage is the only way ... to escape ...

But to escape from what? He whimpered, nearly in tears; what was Wendy running from? His lips began to tremble, his head filled with the slow, terrible pain that is helplessness ...

Don't let her make this mistake ...

You'll be in a thousand times more pain if you do ...


He winced as a warm tear slid down his cheek. They was no pain worse than the pain of being helpless, of ignorance and confusion in the face of a foe that could only be fought with understanding and strength of heart. There could not possibly be a pain worse than this, the pain of not knowing how it would end, if it would at all. There could be no pain worse than the fear of letting the worst happen by mistake, from not saving what needed to be saved in time.

He sighed shakily. He wished, for a moment, that Wendy was tied again to the mast, and he was flying to her, cutting her free, grinning proudly. And she ... she would smile brightly, and throw her arms around him happily, and it would be that simple. She would be in danger, and he would easily save her. Without much effort at all, he would cut the bonds and make her free.

Peter frowned, realizing that in his increasing simple fantasy, both he and Wendy were children. She worn not a corset, but a flowing white nightgown, and he ... his old outfit of slick emerald leaves.

He knew it could not be that way. He knew, in the depths of his heart, that was Wendy was indeed screaming, crying out for help ... she was tied, not to a mast, but to something worse ... and her bonds were not ropes, and his dagger could leave no mark in them. Her screaming haunted him even now, when he recalled the constant, hidden fear in her eyes ...

Peter shook his head suddenly, clearing his mind by force. He blinked back hot tears, trembling. Perhaps ... he did not want to understand.

The door was opened with a loud click.

Peter's head shot up toward the door. He frowned, apprehensive, knowing that it was Wendy. He swallowed hard ... what could he say to explain his muddled thoughts?

The door slid open slowly, and a shadowed, tall figure appeared behind it. He stepped forward into the morning sunlight, grimacing at Peter.

Mr. Darling?, Peter choked, shocked that he too was coming to check on his health.

Why, good morning, Mr. Darling said tensely. I was, ehrm, talking with the boys just now, and I thought ... well, that we might have a little chat, just the two of us.

Peter frowned, raising an eyebrow in doubt.

About what?, he asked suspiciously. Mr. Darling forced a smile, still standing quite far from him in the doorway.

Oh, well ... ahh ... the boys told me that you had a certain dream that you ... hmm ... didn't quite understand, he replied nervously. I thought we might talk so that I could ... explain it all to you.

Explain it to me?, Peter repeated incredulously. It sounded a bit suspicious to him, but none the less, he was offering to explain that which Peter's curiosity could not leave alone ... that which both the boys and John had failed to explain to him. The offer, therefore, began to appeal more and more to him with the passing seconds.

Mr. Darling answered, waiting. Peter seemed to be contemplating his proposal, weighing in his mind whether or not he was going to go along with it.

Peter said at last. But only because I want to understand.

said Mr. Darling, eying him uneasily. Good, then. I assure you, I will tell you everything you need to know.


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End Chapter Fifteen

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Ending Notes: AHH! This is frustraaating! Hmph. Well, it's not all that bad, I suppose ... but the thing is, I had originally planned out this chapter to be the chapter with the actually in it, ending the humor chapter trio so that I could move on to the Peter and Wendy confrontation chapter ... but then, this chapter ended up being ungodly long, and as I want all my chapters to be within a few pages of the same length, I had to chop this up into two chapters ... making it the third chapter with humor as a focus, which means that there is now an, ehrm, quadruple humor chapter thing ... followed by the Peter and Wendy confrontation chapter that would be next but now isn't because I had to add in another chapter with Mr. Darling's talk ... I just confused myself so much.

Basically, I guess this is what I'm saying ... expect some Peter and Wendy one-on-one not in the next chapter, but the next after that. The next chapter will be half humor, half setting up that chapter ... yay ... heh, I'm actually really looking forward to my revert back to angst. I miss angst.

Plus I'm sad, so, yeah.

I even ended up adding in some unplanned angst in this chapter, with Peter's confusion ... mmm ... I want them to confront each other so badly ... I'm glad they will, in a good fifteen pages or so ...

Oh, good news. The next chapter is actually 90% done, so I'll be able to post it kinda soon after I post this one.

And finally, HELLO SEXY READERS! I LOVE YOU! And please come back for the next chapter. =3

P.S: Sexuality poll : peterloveswendy.8k.com ... CTL website, unfinished. Thank you to everyone who took the poll, or is going to take it! Much love!