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Chapter 5: Sleeping Wendy
Wendy's behavior toward Peter was most perplexing to him. He was certain she remembered him, he was sure of it! But she had also grown. Maybe you forgot when you grew. Wendy had always been beautiful to him, even if he would never say so, but now. he could stare at her all day. Her body had been more curvy than when he had last seen her. He lay on the deck of his ship, his arms behind his head, watching Tink fly above him. He had been terribly bored, with no pirates to fight, and no lost boys to boss around, so he spent his days lounging in the sun. He longed for the night so he could return to Wendy, though his excuse to Tink was that they were looking for orphans. At long last, it was time for him to go. He jumped up with a grin, sat Tink on his shoulder, and was gone.
Aunt Millicent was settled in a chair in the foyer as she watched her niece parade around in front of her with her screaming son. She put a tired hand to her forehead. "Wendy, you must not be doing it right!"
"I'm trying my best, Aunt Millicent!" Wendy said agitated, and rocked the baby back and forth.
If Aunt Millicent had caught Wendy's tone, she paid it no heed. "It's been nearly two hours," She said, on the verge of tears.
Wendy gave a sympathetic look at her aunt. She wasn't exactly young, and the pregnancy had done a number on her. A sudden idea splashed over Wendy. In comforting tones, she began to hum. Where she had learned the tune, she couldn't say, though like most of her past, it was on the tip of her memory. But it soothed little William's frantic cries. And soon, all was quiet, and the baby was fast asleep.
"Bravo!" Aunt Millicent cried. "Oh, my dear, you are going to be an excellent mother."
Wendy grinned, and continued to hum.
That night, Wendy walked to her window and bolted it closed. It was for the best, she kept telling herself over and over. By the time she woke that morning, her past was as cloudy as it had ever been. She vaguely remembered something about the previous night. Had she been kissed?
But one thing was as clear as ever, and that was Peter's face. The boy that haunted her. She knew him, she was sure of it. But from where? From when? Every time she got close to remembering, all she saw was her uncle's face. She placed cotton in her ears so she wouldn't hear him, even if he did return, and went to sleep.
Peter was ticked off, and you didn't want to tick Peter Pan off. He hovered outside Wendy's window, shouting and knocking. He had even thrown some pebbles. What was taking her so long? Was she in danger? He wrapped again. Still nothing! Tinkerbell shrugged, and informed Peter that they should return home, but he shrugged her off. Fuming, Peter flew to the next window, the room where he had saw that little baby, and tried the window. Open. He grinned, and jumped in. He froze when the tip of a wooden sword was at his throat. Peter raised his hands in surrender. Tinker Bell ran to the attacker and started tugging on his hair. Peter flew in the air, brandishing his sword.
There was a string of swears, and then, "Tink, get off of me!"
Peter landed. He knew that voice.
Slightly waved the fairy off, and swore again. "Pan!"
Peter grinned, his hands going automatically to his hips. He squinted, and saw a familiar face. "Slightly!"
Slightly grinned back. "You've come back!"
He nodded, "I've been visiting Wendy. you do remember me, don't you?" He peered at the boy, who was once much shorter. Slightly was now eye level with him.
"Of course I remember," Slightly said.
A frown flashed on Peter's face. "Wendy doesn't seem too."
Slightly shook his head. "It happened in the past year or so. ever since Mum got married. She stopped telling stories, she won't even speak of you."
Peter crossed his arms, thinking. He was growing steadily tired of this game Wendy was playing. It wasn't a fun game if he didn't enjoy it.
"I know she hasn't forgotten you." Slightly said. "There's a flash in her eyes every time I speak of you, a twitch in the corner of her mouth where her kiss had been."
"She has barred her window," Peter said in a low whisper. "It is just as Hook said."
"I shall take you to her!" Slightly shouted. "Maybe my father is in her room and she can't hear you."
"Why would he be in Wendy's room?" Peter asked jealously.
Slightly gave his head a little shake. "They've been. talking. He's trying to turn her into a proper lady, or something. That's what mum told me. But, late at night, sometimes, I'm awoken by father's shouting. And after her leaves, I can hear Wendy crying."
Peter frowned again. "Take me to her."
Slightly checked that William was still sound asleep in his bassinet, and then he and Peter entered the dark hallway, Tink hovering just before them to give them light. They stopped in front of the next door, and entered. Even in the darkness, Peter could make out the form of Wendy's body in her bed. They walked to her, hovering over her.
She was asleep.
Slightly whispered, "Wendy,"
But she slept on.
"Wendy!" He said a little louder.
When she did not stir, he turned to Peter with a shrug.
"I know how to wake her," Peter said. It had to work. It worked in all of Wendy's stories. He got up, leaned over her, and placed his lips against hers.
Aww isn't that a sweet way to be woken? I'm changing one of the genres of this story to angst, because it's going to be a bumpy ride! But, I promise, things will get better. Next chapter, especially will be very angsty.