CHAPTER 4
LONDON, ENGLAND CITY OF ADVENTURE.
"John! John!" Wendy cried, shaking him urgently. "John! Please wake up!"
After several more, not so gentle shoves, John Darling's eyes opened widely. "Wha?! I'm up! What's going on?!" his hand groped quickly to the table on his left where his glasses rested.
Placing them on, first upside down, then rightside up, he gazed over at the figure looming over him, recognizing almost instantly Wendy's shape.
"Wendy?!" John asked, startled, rolling his eyes at his start. "Bloody Hell! What is going on?! It is bloody," he paused, squinting at his ticking clock. "Three in the morni.!"
Wendy's hand abruptly clamped over her brother's mouth, cutting off the rest of his word. "Shh!" she hissed, "You'll wake mother and father!"
John looked at his sister in shock at her tone. Never had she really barked at him. He suddenly sat up, becoming widely awake when he saw Michael's form in her arms.
"What is it Wendy? What has happened?" he asked suddenly worried. "Is Michael alright?!" "John, Michael's fine." She assured, placing the lad in his own bed beside his brothers. "I need you to come to my room right away with you're med kit!"
John's hands found his sister's shoulders roughly. "Wendy what is going on? What aren't you telling me?!" "John please do not argue with me! Just bring your med kit! Please!" she begged, gazing at him through pleading eyes.
Her brother sighed heavily as he climbed out of his bed.
"Wendy I don't understand if its so serious, whatever it is, we should be calling a professional Dr. not an intern in training!"
Wendy's eyes misted slightly, her fingers finding the jawbone of his chin.
"John I have faith in your skill and you are the only one who would understand, which you will. All your questions will be answered but now, I beg you to trust me.please John please." She urged grabbing the younger's wrist tightly.
John could see his sister on the verge of tears, something of which he saw not to often. He finally gave, grabbing his bag resting by his bed.
"Very well."
John's eyes widened as they followed the floor leading towards Wendy's room, a trail of crimson dotting it with a splash of color. In a far corner, he could see a bent candlestick discarded after what appeared to have been some kind of scuffle. His eyes darted to the girl in his view, though his question's remained unasked as Wendy's hand touched her knob, opening it carefully.
A cool blast of air radiated through out the room from the open window, wrapping its arms around the duo, sending chills cascading down their spines.
Wendy pointed towards her bed, where a figure rested upon it. A figure who looked younger in the moonlight, their unruly curls spiraling in twists amongst the pillow's down softness.
John's medical bag slipped from his fingers, falling to his feet with a loud thud. He pointed a finger at the body in shock, disbelief and bewilderment all at once. Wendy sighed, gently pulling her brother's arm back to its side.
"You are not going crazy. That is who you believe it to be and the wound inflicted by his own blade at my hand is enough to prove it besides the crimson stains soaking my once white linens. We have no time for shock or questions right now. Right now he needs your help."
John's face suddenly grew serious as he gazed at his sister, then back to the boy's body. The girl was right, questions could wait John quickly grabbed his bag once again, kneeling beside the mattress. He crouched low, gazing intensely at the youth's moon shadowed face, watching his chest rise and fall with a sound rhythm. John's eyes traveled the body in length, taking in every detail, new and old. Daring, with a heavy heart to etch it permanently into his memory.
His clothing appeared slightly different then before, but not too terribly off beat from before. A column of strategically placed leaves was fitted into a green aura of cloth, covering most of his body. It was tacked with bits of twigs, twine and brush. Around his waist, he wore a simple leather belt, faceted with a dagger sheath and a placed where a sword appeared to have belonged at point or another. A few feathers pocked from the side of a small pouch attached to the left of his belt, accented with blue and yellow beads, no doubt from the Indian village on the northern slope of Neverland's main island. His feet were, as usual, soiled with days spent dashing around on the never-ending summer grounds, the wind whispering through his sun-kissed hair.
John sighed, leaning a bit closer to get a better look into the boy's face. His eyes remained shut tight, the curtain of unruly blonde and brown curls protecting them like a shield. His hair dusted his copper cheeks with their essence, stopping just below the base of his head. John inhaled a breath involuntarily, a restful odor wafting up to his nostrils, emanating from the lad's own body. A familiar scent that filled John's heart with warmth from a song of long ago. It was the scent of twilight converging with dawn, the scent of drops of sun sheened with a fresh rain set in the early morning dew. Where the earth met sea, mingling together to become one body. A soft fragrance of salt dusted his clothing from the ocean spray flying towards him as he soared over its domain with out a single grain of disquiet to linger within his soul. The oleander and ivy of Mermaid Lagoon stuck to his golden locks, permeating his skin with a sweet aroma that made ones heart melt into a place only imagination could possibly exist. John desperately attempted to shake the sudden wave jolting through him, shaking his very soul out from its foundation. He had forgotten how powerful of an effect this boy, this single boy, could have on just about anyone that he came into contact with.including John himself. He swallowed hard, his heart wishing to rent into two separate pieces to be in line with both worlds battling with in his mind but his body tortuously kept them together as a whole. John reached over, lightly touching the boy's face, his mind still trapped in the state of a surreal fairytale. His skin seemed to have been dipped in liquid copper, applied directly from Neverland's never ending sun. His skin ran smoothly, trailing endlessly into the toned muscular structure that his body had become. In each curve of smooth sun-kissed skin, there was perfection. Only one such place seemed to slide from the rest, out of place with the well toned frame. John's mouth opened slightly, his eyes squinting in horror at the nasty wound inflicted upon his shoulder. The room became silent as a tomb. The wind turned a cryptic note that haunted the room, disquieting every soul with in its walls. John watched a pool of scarlet drip in a never ending waterfall through the once cream scarf the he had seen Wendy wear so often. It had been placed directly on the wound in attempts to stop the bleeding however, it seemed to have failed in a measure for It spilled over, falling helplessly onto the sheets of Wendy's bed, dotting in with claret beads. Wendy swiftly strode to the lamp residing on her wall, turning it up three notches, illuminating the room with the warm, soft glow of candlelight. She watched in helplessness, her fingers firmly laced together pressed against her chest. John removed the scarf from the newly lacerated skin, accessing the damage done to the dermas. He grabbed a magnifying glass, holding it closer to the whole. Wendy's eyes squeezed tightly, her hands coming to her mouth in horror, as she stood there hearing a defeating sigh flee from her brother's lips, not believing this either.not believing this to be.to be possible.not believing that it could possibly be the boy from Neverland lying on her stained linens, a boy she had once had such a grand adventure with oh so many moons ago. And now, a wound inflicted upon him with her own hand..with his own dagger. Would he be ok.would he.would he. It was all to much and Wendy found she couldn't hold her façade of strength any longer and her chest finally gave to the gale of tears she was burying with in. She nearly collapsed to her knees as they threatened to buckle under her, not being able to carry the burden of her own weight. Her hand clasped immediately to her mouth, muffling the horrid shrieks behind their barriers. As agonizing moments ticked by, questions ripped though her mind of 'What if's.'
'Oh Peter, I do not want to lose you again.not when I just got you back.please.'
Out of the expanse of minutes, Wendy found she had sunk to the floor, the bitter sweetness of her own blood rolling on her tongue from where she bit her lip in attempt the squelch the tears.
John suddenly turned to Wendy, his eyes twinkling at her.
"Wendy, its ok, he'll be fine. A few stitches should take care of the wound. Fortunately for him, you made a clean puncture through his shoulder. He should be fine by morning." He assured placing a hand on her face, his eyes shined softly and she found her heart becoming renewed. "Oh course we'll have to keep swords and pirates away from him."
New tears sprang to her eyes and she collapsed on her brother's chest as the anxiety washed free of her soul.
"Oh John.Thankyou."
"Two things Wendy, First, tomorrow, after I get a little more sleep, I should like to know what is going on! Second, and I mean it..NO FLYING. Peter is to stay on the ground, no being air born for at least three days. Thus, he is stuck here in London until then understood? No Neverland. Not until his arm has sufficient time to rest."
The girl nodded vaguely, as John wrapped his sister in a final embrace before exiting the room.
Wendy bit her lip, crouching beside the bed of the boy. Her hand shakily reached forwards, her fingertips caressing the sunny locks framing his face.
"Oh Peter.I am sorry.I am so sorry." She whispered, a silent bead of glassy crystal falling to the lad's cheek.
Her chest heaved heavily, in and out as her tired head came to rest upon his shoulder, the beat of his heart, firm and steady, soothing her soul, igniting it with relief and fire.
"I am sorry.I'm sor." seconds later, Wendy fell into a restless slumber.
Wendy awoke, her throat dry and parched, the metallic taste overwhelming her mouth. Her eyes opened to the outside world and to the sunlight streaming into her room in golden ribbons. Her face was plastered with strands of matted hair melting against her skin. It was placed where tears had prevailed freely the night before.
The tinkling of water against glass brought her attention to the window off to the left of her down bed. The air outside had warmed quite a bit, leaving a pleasant rain shower in place of the fleeting snow. On the inviting wings of the breeze, it brought the breath of a season's change. The life of Spring shadowing the entire country side.
Her sapphire orbs glided across the room cautiously, adjusting to the brightness of everything surrounding her. They soon become entranced by the gas lantern which still burned brightly on her wall, causing the flowered stenciling to glow brilliantly.
She sighed, gulping another breath of the morning air into her lungs, this time finding refreshment with in its arms. Wendy's finger's gingerly found her temple and she winced as they throbbed under her touch. She found herself wishing for the pain to subside or better yet, desist all together.
Her hand fell to the comforter covering her bed, her fingers lazily smoothing its wrinkles. Her palm suddenly ceased, her brows furrowing in confusion at the roughness trapped under the touch of her skin. Her eyes drifted to the texture in bewilderment. They met with blotches of dark crimson, now long since dried. Her mouth widened, a small gasp echoing through her ears.
Flashbacks branded across her mind immediately, of the night before, of the dagger, his blood.of him.
Wendy's eyes flashed with pain, the scream that pierced the night, and her heart, now echoing loudly through her ears. The glassy orbs stung biting her harshly as crystal beads fell to the silken marital resting in her lap.
Her body twisted, hand falling to the place beside her, only to find it bare, empty and only rumpled, claret dotted linens answered her touch. Wendy's eyes flew around the walls, searching, searching diligently for something.a hint, a clue.anything. And what they wanted, they found at the window, perched on the rail.
Wendy was about to scold but as her feet carried her in swift strides towards her destination, she became mesmerized by the beautiful scene before her. Dusty blonde curls swept with the flow of the wind's embrace as a figure stood, eyes closed, drinking in the sweetness lingering through the air. He stood in lax, his arms stretched outwardly, fingers spread far, letting the rain drops lick between the webs of his hands and sheen his face with their glistening pearls. His face held up to the sky, as he grinned, enjoying the serene and peaceful moment enveloping him in its gentle caress. His bare copper skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, glittering like dew in the morning light. It was then, and only then, did Wendy snap to her senses, regaining prudence. Her eyes blinked as she took a bold step forward, merging onto the balcony.
"Peter come down from there this instant before you catch your death!" she scolded at the scantily clad youth.
His ears perked and his head slowly turned, his sea-green eyes, dancing with the glow of vibrancy and a thousand stars, twinkling for adventure, pierced into her soul, capturing it with the hidden wink of mischief brewing beyond their blue, gold and emerald swirling gates.the glassy pools that could you could gaze into forever and only become even more wrapped in the mystery and unanswered questions that were created in the spring bubbling up within the existence of the intriguing soul holding them.
Wendy's heart did an excited jig, its thirst for adventure almost overpowering.
A small smirk painted his lips, dusting the bronzed rose with a spoonful of mischief and ciaos.although controlled. His hands reached up, resting comfortably upon his hips as he just stared at her, his head cocked to one side almost as if he were appraising her. The intenseness made her feel a tad bit of discomfort.
"Oh I do beg your pardon lady." He stated nonchalantly as though he didn't particularly care, which she was sure he didn't however, she was pleased when he appeased her, stepping off the rail to float once again to the ground below.
A gentle smile creased her lips as she really saw his face for the first time and she suddenly realized, he looked a little older then before, not by much but maybe a year or two. He was taller now, grown about an inch and a half. His face, more lean, his baby fat just beginning to recede as his features continued to mature. He had more muscle mass then before, as well as more tone. He had become quite lanky and she suspected that it caused him to be even more efficient in his strengths of agility and caused his lighting reflexes to respond ever quicker and more precise then her previous encounter with him. Eyeing him up and down, Wendy couldn't help but wonder if Peter even realized his was changing. Probably she decided. Her eyes traveled to his shoulder and the smile immediately faded into oblivion from winst it came. A beautiful claret exuded through the thick gauze John had dressed the wound with the previous night. Her fingers reached forwards, trembling slightly. Peter pulled back sharply, taking his shoulder just beyond her reach in automatic reflex.
Wendy's eyes gazed at him softly, her heart over flowing with joy and pain at the same time. She smiled sweetly, her gaze gentle and fond.
"Its ok, I'm not going to hurt you." She assured, reaching forwards again.
Peter pulled back slightly once again however, this time allowing her to inspect the wound gingerly with her fingertips.
"It needs to be redressed, please sit on the bed." She instructed.
Peter just stood, staring at her a moment before slowly complying, once again coming to rest on the rumpled sheets. Wendy carefully unwound the dirty bandage, grabbing the gauze from her nightstand where John had left it and a pair of scissors the previous night. Wendy then went into the grueling task of re-wrapping the wound as meticulously as possible. When Peter winced as her finger slipped, she winced, her forehead breaking into a mild perspiration. She was glad when she had finally finished.
Peter peered down at the bandage, inspecting it intently. He gazed at her a moment later, grinning in approval which Wendy was quite happy about.
"Not bad." He told her, rotating the cuff of his shoulder back and forth. "Thankyou."
"You're welcome." She whispered, turning to replace the gauze on the table.
Wendy sat on the bed quietly, gazing at the wall absently. It had been six years.six years. There were a million and one questions brooding through her thoughts at that very moment that she could ask him..a million and one that she had thought about over that time that she might ask him if she saw him again, if he ever returned and yet, now, here he was, sitting right beside her on her bed and not a single thought surfaced...not a one. She had absolutely no clue where to begin and it was that, that astonished her most.
"How is your arm?" she asked finally, mainly just to break the lingering stony silence.
"Its fine. Merely a scratch really. Hook has done far worse by the edge of his sword then this dagger's deadly kiss." He retorted.
Wendy's eyes fell upon him, her brows rising.
"Hook?"
Once again, a smirk dusted the lad's lips and he nodded.
"That's right."
Wendy could resist no longer, as the questions finally came flooding back to her memory.
"Peter, why is it that you are here?"
The boy scratched the back of his head, ruffling his sunny tips in the process.
"I am looking for someone." He gazed at her with a sudden hopeful look. "Maybe you would know where I can find her lady. I seek a little girl by the name of Wendy Darling."
"L-little?"
Wendy's heart suddenly sunk to the pit of her stomach. She didn't know why this surprised her so for she muchly expected the statement to be uttered from Peter's lips. But it did hit her, slamming her as if a stone to her chest, and she just wanted to weep all her bitter tears away until she melted into a puddle of nothingness.
Of course he couldn't know. He was still just a boy at heart. He would always think of Wendy as the little girl he had played with once upon a time and that figure was how he would always remember her by. After all, he didn't promise to remember the adult. Time, she remembered, never moved with him, never got older, never grew up. It was no surprise therefore, he still looked for the child.and she wondered, was it possible he could still see beyond the adult, behind the limited spirit to the burning force beating strongly within her chest..no, she supposed he could not.
"I am sorry Peter." She whispered, her voice so hollow and empty that it could almost pass as a tongue on the breeze. "There are no little girls present here any longer, and I can not help you."
Tears lined Wendy's eyes as the merged with the throw carpet in front of her bed frame.
A palm suddenly grazed the base her chin, guiding her head to swivel towards the boy, where his intense eyes came to dwell upon hers. She tried hard to look away but he would not allow it. And so she sat, fighting for all she was worth to keep the tears at bay, while Peter's eyes seemed to do a careful search of hers. A heavy sigh heaved from his chest as he finally released his hold.
" Oh well. I suppose the adult version of Wendy will have to do then." He said shrugging.
The girl froze, as if her body were trapped in space and time. Her head snapped up were her eyes met a familiar smirk that dripped with playful mischief. Peter waggled his eyebrows, as his eyes themselves continued to bore into hers intensely as he awaited the girl's reaction. Wendy did not fail to disappoint either.
"You-You.You recognize me?!"
Peter just sat there, a word unspoken, the same expression written firmly across his face. Wendy's brows suddenly furrowed indignantly and her fists bawled.
"You wretched boy!" she hissed slugging him in the arm as hard as she could manage.
A melodious laughter filled her ears, causing her anger to diminish into nothingness as she became hypnotized by its enchanting spell. Remembering the magic she thought she might have forgotten so long ago now.
"I told you I wouldn't forget. I'll always know you, no matter how.big.you get." He began, "For only you have the scent of a pixie wind permeating with the fragrance of lilacs and wild roses mixed with an early morning rain."
"My perfume." She whispered, more to herself then to him.
"Only you have those eyes in which you can see the reflection of the whole universe, shining through crystal glass as it stares back at you."
Wendy was rendered speechless.her mind completely blank except the words spoken, which burned themselves deeper into her mind, becoming part of the legend. She moved to try and reply but a sudden crash from down the hall averted her attention sharply towards her door.
The duo, listened in astonishment as things seemed to fly around behind the barrier. A rush of footsteps pounding furiously down the corridor, shod with intent for her room and Wendy could hear the chandelier rattle from below. There was a nasty sliding sound as whatever was beyond the room tried to slow their momentum and it sounded as if they pulled the whole wall tapestry down with them. The brass knob turned forcefully, as something collided with the wooden opening viciously, and Wendy was sure it was be ripped from its very hinges.
As it flew ajar, a blur of a boy skidded into the room, tripping over the carpet, being dumped in a heap on the floor, face first. This didn't seem to deter the lad as he scrambled to his hands and knees, his eyes immediately fixing on the bed. Their intense blue deepened as the sun swept across their brilliance and the fiery locks incasing them. Michael's mouth dropped to the floor.
"Bloody hell it is true! You're back!" he screeched.
Wendy's lips parted in shock. "Michael! Watch your mouth!"
The boy hadn't heard her as his eyes became fixed solely upon the copper faced lad sitting cross-legged on the comforter, his body drifting into a light hover, transfixed somewhere between solidity and zephyr. As if in a trance, Michael slowly rose to his feet, cautiously, his steps wavering as if he were greatly struggling to balance himself. Peter cocked his head to one side, his aquatic eyes washing their mystic waves into the lad's mind. Michael's mouth moved in unpredictable rhythm, words desperately trying to escape through his esophagus and when he finally did find a voice in the depths of his throat, all he could manage was a:
"Hi."
Peter seemed mildly disappointed and yet, at the same time, truly amused. His amusement won over and a small smirk, sheened his lips. His chuckle became light, as if it were the beautiful chime of the pixie's tinkling wings, or perhaps the sound of rushing water, permeated with the lingering essence of silver moonbeams and crystal light ribboning through golden dew. He rose a foot off the bed, leaning over his lap, resting his chin in his palm, placing his elbow into thin air as if it were a sturdy platform.
Wendy suddenly remembered John's prescription concerning Peter's health.
'..NO FLYING. Peter is to stay on the ground, no being air born for at least three days. Thus, he is stuck here in London until then understood? No Neverland. Not until his arm has sufficient time to rest.'
She quickly snapped out of her continuous daze, stepping to the foot of her bed.
"Peter, get down from there this instant! You are not to fly, float or hover for at least three days until your shoulder has adequate time to rest its weariness. Understood?" The look in her eye, gave Peter the indication that she was not going to except any such rebuke or rebuttal he might present to her. Thusly, he sighed in agitation, reluctantly acquiescing her request as he sunk low to the bed once more. Wendy opened her mouth to say more but, the pout rendered across his face was priceless and the girl could not help but comply to his silent request, laughing into the air. He smirked, rising to his feet, making sure that his childhood friend was occupied before, slowly floating towards the doorway. Wendy's sharp burst, shirked him immediately to the floor boards.
"Peter!" she warned, her brow furrowed against him.
His shoulders sunk dejectedly, but he said not a word.
Wendy walked directly towards the younger boy, stopping a foot in front of him. Even though she was twenty, he was still just a tad bit taller then her, maybe a half an inch to an inch.
"Peter, why are you here?" she whispered, suddenly, losing her meekness and courage on the breath of the wind.
Her eyes searched his, begging for answers to so many thoughts marring her thoughts, gnawing at the very marrow of her bones.
"Why did you come back?"
Michael nodded in agreement, both eyes intently engrossed in the boy. Instead of answering, Peter walked over to the window, an uncharacteristic cloud of soberness lingering over his head.
"I don't know." He admitted, his eyes dancing across the motion of the wind filled tree, waving in rhythm.
Below the streets of London were busy. The rain had stopped and only the lingering aroma of the shower remained, saturating the sky with its freshness. The lilacs were just starting to bud and peter could smell its rich sweetness hydrating everything its breath touched.
"I suppose I was bored and I wanted to see how much things had changed. I didn't realize so much time had come and gone. Things move slowly in Neverland you know."
"Time doesn't exist in Neverland Peter." Wendy reminded. "You know that."
Peter's eyes caught hers, the light of the sun reflecting behind them, just peering at her a moment, as if looking through the windows to the soul hidden within. After a few seconds, he leaned closer, putting a space of four inches between them. "It only exists if you want it to." He explained softly. "I never had any need for it. Therefore, for me, time stands still. That's why I never grow older. In Neverland in general, its always moving, it never stops flowing."
"Oh." Wendy murmured weakly, losing her voice to the wind again. "I flew by the same route I always had, over roof tops and sleepy villas, only to find myself heading directly to the same window I had visited so many times before." He chuckled in spite, shaking his head. "I landed in the same tree as always, the sound of a story filled my ears intriguing me and so I flew to the ledge to listen in, however, I was distracted by the nursery. It looked so very different then from what I remembered it to be. Two beds instead of three, books instead of toys, suits instead of costumes. I reached forwards however, the window was barred and that was when I suppose that I received the first indication I had that a great deal of time had passed, more then I actually realized." Perplexed and undeterred, Peter explained he flew to the next window which proved unlocked. Slipping inside, he floated over to a bed in the center of the room, watching a shadowed figure sleep silently. He whisked past, into the hall past the door and Wendy realized that it was this that awoke her at first. He had searched the nursery first, looking for the little girl with the long chocolate curls and piercing blue eyes. He came upon the beds of the two boys, gazing at the faces by the light of the full moon. He first stumbled upon a fair skinned dark-haired teen. His face so peaceful as he slept. On the side of the night table, a pair of spectacles laid, collecting the endless trails of reflection and shadows from around the smaller room, including Peter's. The fiery curls of the next boy glowed like burning copper in the incandesnt light, jerking Peter's attention towards them. His mouth had suddenly fell, his eyes widening in recognition. It was an older version of the face to be sure however, it still did not deceived the youth as he quickly placed the name with the hair..Michael.Michael Darling. His eyes frantically darted to the first boy in his own bed and suddenly, he didn't feel so cocky, his hands falling from his hips to his sides, a lump catching in his throat. The moonlight caught the shards of stubble staining the young man's face, his lengthy bangs swishing across his forehead, flashing across the bridge of his nose. Peter's eyes again fell to the glass's reflection.John.this was John.Darling. Peter felt like his lungs could explode from the lack of breath he was in taking.shock, he was in shock, his eyes wide. He backed towards the door, eyes never once swerving from the two figures. All at once he turned, scurrying out of the room blindly, half flying, half running, bumping into several items lined in the narrow corridor as he went. Wendy, he had to find Wendy. He rushed to the back of the hall, his haste causing him to knock into a side table resting neatly against the wall, the same one his shadow had played hide and seek in so long ago now. It created a sound disruption that echoed down to the other end of the hallway, plundering several objects to their sides forcefully. He was about to head towards the room he had entered from but the abrupt sound of footsteps against the wooden boards, deterred his efforts. A strong, feminine voice called out, shakily at first, but shortly gaining strength.
"Who is there?!"
He had froze, not even attempting to breath more then a light whisper and only when his lungs began to burn ripping its fingers towards the hollow cavern of his chest outside his body, desperately trying to pull air in towards them. The girl's voice grew closer, as did the commanding tone with in it.
"Answer me!"
It had been no request, that much was for sure and he suddenly became compelled to reach out for her, feeling the warmth of her flesh and blood pulsing under his fingertips. He had not realized she was armed until the swarthy blade had kissed his skin viciously, licking its lips of the fresh blood dipping down its tip. He cried out in more shock then pain. He hadn't quite expected that one at all. Her courage made him all the more curious and he became determined to find out who this was. But he found himself having to dodge blows for his effort as he listened to her shoot things out at him, each saying meaning to be like a searing needle cauterizing his flesh.
"What right have you to just charge into one's house unannounced, uninvited?!"
"What have you come for?!"
With each striking statement, the resilience and bit of her words increased, the sharpness gaining mountains of strength. Peter couldn't help it and he took the first opportune time to grab her wrist, spinning her against her chest. The immediate fragrance of morning dew and lilacs wafted into his nose and his eyes grew in an awareness.
"Who are you girl?" he whispered.
She snorted angrily, no indication of fear drifting from her body and Peter could help but find this oddly amusing.
"Why do you care pirate?!" she spat.
Peter chuckled lightly shaking his head.
"Pirate? No, no, no! I am no pirate, I can guarantee you that. But who are you? Are you a pirate? You seem much too good to be one." He reasoned.
"A pirate? Me?!" she scoffed, breathing sharply in annoyance. "I am a warrior who brandishes a sword and flies across the bows of the sky, a child of the earth and wind. I kill pirates!"
Peter froze under this very familiar venom, finally placing the oh so familiar spirit with a memory..pirate, warrior, sword, flies.a memory turned into a face.then finally a name..Wendy.
However, Peter had no time to ponder these new revelations as he felt the hateful dagger's tip pierce his skin forcefully, as it was plunged mercilessly into his left shoulder. Every thing after became a hazy blur of endless color swirling together in the same picture. The next thing he knew, he awoke beside a young woman who had skin like that of ivory porcelain, and whose tresses shimmered a honey blonde in the light bathing the room, the sweet kiss of the morning breeze, caressing her face gently with its fingertips, promising to leave her in her limbo, caught in the world of dreams, in the state between awake and slumber and it was here that she found her lasting peace and the eyes of the youth hidden behind the adult; crisp and blue, stained with a permanent twinkle belonging to only that of adventure, her one true soul mate. .Wendy. Peter agreed, and did not disturb her, instead, walking towards the window to greet the coming spring, bearing ever so closely now on the English horizon.
Wendy's eyes misted as she stared at the boy fondly. Her epitome of adventure.
She smiled lightly, asking a question of which she already knew the answer to.
"You're not going to stay are you?"
Peter didn't reply and, he didn't have to. No. Peter would never stay, this was not his world, the world of rules and regulations, of strictness and etiquette, society and stature. No. He didn't belong to this world, he was too different, too set apart from anything else, too wonderful to belong. And that was ok, he was Pan.and Pan was better left the way Pan was, untouched, unattainable and untamed.
"Well, you have to stay for at least three days until your shoulder properly heals. Until then, you aren't to go anywhere," she stated firmly, stepping even closer to him. "Understood?"
He nodded and she was quite surprised when he didn't even show the slightest hint of resistance.
"What shall I do for that allotted time?"
Michael's eyes lit up, his pearly white teeth baring in a huge grin.
"That's easy, we'll catch you up on the latest and show you around the city." He stated eagerly.
Peter thought for a long moment, before nodding in approval.
"I think that is a fascinating idea!"
Michael beamed, as he raced out the door to the bedroom, calling an 'I'll be right back!' over his shoulder.
Peter's attention returned to the girl in front of him, suddenly realizing, they hadn't even bid eachother hello. He smiled, bowing politely.
"Hello Wendy-lady.It's been a while and you." he paused looking her up and down, causing a rose to dust the girl's cheeks. "Got big."
She nodded giggling slightly, in spite of herself.
"Tis true Peter. I am twenty years old."
The lad's eyes widened.had it really been.he counted mentally from four-teen up.six years? He gulped deeply. "Six years." he whispered.
Wendy's hair floated around her in a spiraling curtain as her head bobbed ever so slightly. "Six years."
LONDON, ENGLAND CITY OF ADVENTURE.
"John! John!" Wendy cried, shaking him urgently. "John! Please wake up!"
After several more, not so gentle shoves, John Darling's eyes opened widely. "Wha?! I'm up! What's going on?!" his hand groped quickly to the table on his left where his glasses rested.
Placing them on, first upside down, then rightside up, he gazed over at the figure looming over him, recognizing almost instantly Wendy's shape.
"Wendy?!" John asked, startled, rolling his eyes at his start. "Bloody Hell! What is going on?! It is bloody," he paused, squinting at his ticking clock. "Three in the morni.!"
Wendy's hand abruptly clamped over her brother's mouth, cutting off the rest of his word. "Shh!" she hissed, "You'll wake mother and father!"
John looked at his sister in shock at her tone. Never had she really barked at him. He suddenly sat up, becoming widely awake when he saw Michael's form in her arms.
"What is it Wendy? What has happened?" he asked suddenly worried. "Is Michael alright?!" "John, Michael's fine." She assured, placing the lad in his own bed beside his brothers. "I need you to come to my room right away with you're med kit!"
John's hands found his sister's shoulders roughly. "Wendy what is going on? What aren't you telling me?!" "John please do not argue with me! Just bring your med kit! Please!" she begged, gazing at him through pleading eyes.
Her brother sighed heavily as he climbed out of his bed.
"Wendy I don't understand if its so serious, whatever it is, we should be calling a professional Dr. not an intern in training!"
Wendy's eyes misted slightly, her fingers finding the jawbone of his chin.
"John I have faith in your skill and you are the only one who would understand, which you will. All your questions will be answered but now, I beg you to trust me.please John please." She urged grabbing the younger's wrist tightly.
John could see his sister on the verge of tears, something of which he saw not to often. He finally gave, grabbing his bag resting by his bed.
"Very well."
John's eyes widened as they followed the floor leading towards Wendy's room, a trail of crimson dotting it with a splash of color. In a far corner, he could see a bent candlestick discarded after what appeared to have been some kind of scuffle. His eyes darted to the girl in his view, though his question's remained unasked as Wendy's hand touched her knob, opening it carefully.
A cool blast of air radiated through out the room from the open window, wrapping its arms around the duo, sending chills cascading down their spines.
Wendy pointed towards her bed, where a figure rested upon it. A figure who looked younger in the moonlight, their unruly curls spiraling in twists amongst the pillow's down softness.
John's medical bag slipped from his fingers, falling to his feet with a loud thud. He pointed a finger at the body in shock, disbelief and bewilderment all at once. Wendy sighed, gently pulling her brother's arm back to its side.
"You are not going crazy. That is who you believe it to be and the wound inflicted by his own blade at my hand is enough to prove it besides the crimson stains soaking my once white linens. We have no time for shock or questions right now. Right now he needs your help."
John's face suddenly grew serious as he gazed at his sister, then back to the boy's body. The girl was right, questions could wait John quickly grabbed his bag once again, kneeling beside the mattress. He crouched low, gazing intensely at the youth's moon shadowed face, watching his chest rise and fall with a sound rhythm. John's eyes traveled the body in length, taking in every detail, new and old. Daring, with a heavy heart to etch it permanently into his memory.
His clothing appeared slightly different then before, but not too terribly off beat from before. A column of strategically placed leaves was fitted into a green aura of cloth, covering most of his body. It was tacked with bits of twigs, twine and brush. Around his waist, he wore a simple leather belt, faceted with a dagger sheath and a placed where a sword appeared to have belonged at point or another. A few feathers pocked from the side of a small pouch attached to the left of his belt, accented with blue and yellow beads, no doubt from the Indian village on the northern slope of Neverland's main island. His feet were, as usual, soiled with days spent dashing around on the never-ending summer grounds, the wind whispering through his sun-kissed hair.
John sighed, leaning a bit closer to get a better look into the boy's face. His eyes remained shut tight, the curtain of unruly blonde and brown curls protecting them like a shield. His hair dusted his copper cheeks with their essence, stopping just below the base of his head. John inhaled a breath involuntarily, a restful odor wafting up to his nostrils, emanating from the lad's own body. A familiar scent that filled John's heart with warmth from a song of long ago. It was the scent of twilight converging with dawn, the scent of drops of sun sheened with a fresh rain set in the early morning dew. Where the earth met sea, mingling together to become one body. A soft fragrance of salt dusted his clothing from the ocean spray flying towards him as he soared over its domain with out a single grain of disquiet to linger within his soul. The oleander and ivy of Mermaid Lagoon stuck to his golden locks, permeating his skin with a sweet aroma that made ones heart melt into a place only imagination could possibly exist. John desperately attempted to shake the sudden wave jolting through him, shaking his very soul out from its foundation. He had forgotten how powerful of an effect this boy, this single boy, could have on just about anyone that he came into contact with.including John himself. He swallowed hard, his heart wishing to rent into two separate pieces to be in line with both worlds battling with in his mind but his body tortuously kept them together as a whole. John reached over, lightly touching the boy's face, his mind still trapped in the state of a surreal fairytale. His skin seemed to have been dipped in liquid copper, applied directly from Neverland's never ending sun. His skin ran smoothly, trailing endlessly into the toned muscular structure that his body had become. In each curve of smooth sun-kissed skin, there was perfection. Only one such place seemed to slide from the rest, out of place with the well toned frame. John's mouth opened slightly, his eyes squinting in horror at the nasty wound inflicted upon his shoulder. The room became silent as a tomb. The wind turned a cryptic note that haunted the room, disquieting every soul with in its walls. John watched a pool of scarlet drip in a never ending waterfall through the once cream scarf the he had seen Wendy wear so often. It had been placed directly on the wound in attempts to stop the bleeding however, it seemed to have failed in a measure for It spilled over, falling helplessly onto the sheets of Wendy's bed, dotting in with claret beads. Wendy swiftly strode to the lamp residing on her wall, turning it up three notches, illuminating the room with the warm, soft glow of candlelight. She watched in helplessness, her fingers firmly laced together pressed against her chest. John removed the scarf from the newly lacerated skin, accessing the damage done to the dermas. He grabbed a magnifying glass, holding it closer to the whole. Wendy's eyes squeezed tightly, her hands coming to her mouth in horror, as she stood there hearing a defeating sigh flee from her brother's lips, not believing this either.not believing this to be.to be possible.not believing that it could possibly be the boy from Neverland lying on her stained linens, a boy she had once had such a grand adventure with oh so many moons ago. And now, a wound inflicted upon him with her own hand..with his own dagger. Would he be ok.would he.would he. It was all to much and Wendy found she couldn't hold her façade of strength any longer and her chest finally gave to the gale of tears she was burying with in. She nearly collapsed to her knees as they threatened to buckle under her, not being able to carry the burden of her own weight. Her hand clasped immediately to her mouth, muffling the horrid shrieks behind their barriers. As agonizing moments ticked by, questions ripped though her mind of 'What if's.'
'Oh Peter, I do not want to lose you again.not when I just got you back.please.'
Out of the expanse of minutes, Wendy found she had sunk to the floor, the bitter sweetness of her own blood rolling on her tongue from where she bit her lip in attempt the squelch the tears.
John suddenly turned to Wendy, his eyes twinkling at her.
"Wendy, its ok, he'll be fine. A few stitches should take care of the wound. Fortunately for him, you made a clean puncture through his shoulder. He should be fine by morning." He assured placing a hand on her face, his eyes shined softly and she found her heart becoming renewed. "Oh course we'll have to keep swords and pirates away from him."
New tears sprang to her eyes and she collapsed on her brother's chest as the anxiety washed free of her soul.
"Oh John.Thankyou."
"Two things Wendy, First, tomorrow, after I get a little more sleep, I should like to know what is going on! Second, and I mean it..NO FLYING. Peter is to stay on the ground, no being air born for at least three days. Thus, he is stuck here in London until then understood? No Neverland. Not until his arm has sufficient time to rest."
The girl nodded vaguely, as John wrapped his sister in a final embrace before exiting the room.
Wendy bit her lip, crouching beside the bed of the boy. Her hand shakily reached forwards, her fingertips caressing the sunny locks framing his face.
"Oh Peter.I am sorry.I am so sorry." She whispered, a silent bead of glassy crystal falling to the lad's cheek.
Her chest heaved heavily, in and out as her tired head came to rest upon his shoulder, the beat of his heart, firm and steady, soothing her soul, igniting it with relief and fire.
"I am sorry.I'm sor." seconds later, Wendy fell into a restless slumber.
Wendy awoke, her throat dry and parched, the metallic taste overwhelming her mouth. Her eyes opened to the outside world and to the sunlight streaming into her room in golden ribbons. Her face was plastered with strands of matted hair melting against her skin. It was placed where tears had prevailed freely the night before.
The tinkling of water against glass brought her attention to the window off to the left of her down bed. The air outside had warmed quite a bit, leaving a pleasant rain shower in place of the fleeting snow. On the inviting wings of the breeze, it brought the breath of a season's change. The life of Spring shadowing the entire country side.
Her sapphire orbs glided across the room cautiously, adjusting to the brightness of everything surrounding her. They soon become entranced by the gas lantern which still burned brightly on her wall, causing the flowered stenciling to glow brilliantly.
She sighed, gulping another breath of the morning air into her lungs, this time finding refreshment with in its arms. Wendy's finger's gingerly found her temple and she winced as they throbbed under her touch. She found herself wishing for the pain to subside or better yet, desist all together.
Her hand fell to the comforter covering her bed, her fingers lazily smoothing its wrinkles. Her palm suddenly ceased, her brows furrowing in confusion at the roughness trapped under the touch of her skin. Her eyes drifted to the texture in bewilderment. They met with blotches of dark crimson, now long since dried. Her mouth widened, a small gasp echoing through her ears.
Flashbacks branded across her mind immediately, of the night before, of the dagger, his blood.of him.
Wendy's eyes flashed with pain, the scream that pierced the night, and her heart, now echoing loudly through her ears. The glassy orbs stung biting her harshly as crystal beads fell to the silken marital resting in her lap.
Her body twisted, hand falling to the place beside her, only to find it bare, empty and only rumpled, claret dotted linens answered her touch. Wendy's eyes flew around the walls, searching, searching diligently for something.a hint, a clue.anything. And what they wanted, they found at the window, perched on the rail.
Wendy was about to scold but as her feet carried her in swift strides towards her destination, she became mesmerized by the beautiful scene before her. Dusty blonde curls swept with the flow of the wind's embrace as a figure stood, eyes closed, drinking in the sweetness lingering through the air. He stood in lax, his arms stretched outwardly, fingers spread far, letting the rain drops lick between the webs of his hands and sheen his face with their glistening pearls. His face held up to the sky, as he grinned, enjoying the serene and peaceful moment enveloping him in its gentle caress. His bare copper skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, glittering like dew in the morning light. It was then, and only then, did Wendy snap to her senses, regaining prudence. Her eyes blinked as she took a bold step forward, merging onto the balcony.
"Peter come down from there this instant before you catch your death!" she scolded at the scantily clad youth.
His ears perked and his head slowly turned, his sea-green eyes, dancing with the glow of vibrancy and a thousand stars, twinkling for adventure, pierced into her soul, capturing it with the hidden wink of mischief brewing beyond their blue, gold and emerald swirling gates.the glassy pools that could you could gaze into forever and only become even more wrapped in the mystery and unanswered questions that were created in the spring bubbling up within the existence of the intriguing soul holding them.
Wendy's heart did an excited jig, its thirst for adventure almost overpowering.
A small smirk painted his lips, dusting the bronzed rose with a spoonful of mischief and ciaos.although controlled. His hands reached up, resting comfortably upon his hips as he just stared at her, his head cocked to one side almost as if he were appraising her. The intenseness made her feel a tad bit of discomfort.
"Oh I do beg your pardon lady." He stated nonchalantly as though he didn't particularly care, which she was sure he didn't however, she was pleased when he appeased her, stepping off the rail to float once again to the ground below.
A gentle smile creased her lips as she really saw his face for the first time and she suddenly realized, he looked a little older then before, not by much but maybe a year or two. He was taller now, grown about an inch and a half. His face, more lean, his baby fat just beginning to recede as his features continued to mature. He had more muscle mass then before, as well as more tone. He had become quite lanky and she suspected that it caused him to be even more efficient in his strengths of agility and caused his lighting reflexes to respond ever quicker and more precise then her previous encounter with him. Eyeing him up and down, Wendy couldn't help but wonder if Peter even realized his was changing. Probably she decided. Her eyes traveled to his shoulder and the smile immediately faded into oblivion from winst it came. A beautiful claret exuded through the thick gauze John had dressed the wound with the previous night. Her fingers reached forwards, trembling slightly. Peter pulled back sharply, taking his shoulder just beyond her reach in automatic reflex.
Wendy's eyes gazed at him softly, her heart over flowing with joy and pain at the same time. She smiled sweetly, her gaze gentle and fond.
"Its ok, I'm not going to hurt you." She assured, reaching forwards again.
Peter pulled back slightly once again however, this time allowing her to inspect the wound gingerly with her fingertips.
"It needs to be redressed, please sit on the bed." She instructed.
Peter just stood, staring at her a moment before slowly complying, once again coming to rest on the rumpled sheets. Wendy carefully unwound the dirty bandage, grabbing the gauze from her nightstand where John had left it and a pair of scissors the previous night. Wendy then went into the grueling task of re-wrapping the wound as meticulously as possible. When Peter winced as her finger slipped, she winced, her forehead breaking into a mild perspiration. She was glad when she had finally finished.
Peter peered down at the bandage, inspecting it intently. He gazed at her a moment later, grinning in approval which Wendy was quite happy about.
"Not bad." He told her, rotating the cuff of his shoulder back and forth. "Thankyou."
"You're welcome." She whispered, turning to replace the gauze on the table.
Wendy sat on the bed quietly, gazing at the wall absently. It had been six years.six years. There were a million and one questions brooding through her thoughts at that very moment that she could ask him..a million and one that she had thought about over that time that she might ask him if she saw him again, if he ever returned and yet, now, here he was, sitting right beside her on her bed and not a single thought surfaced...not a one. She had absolutely no clue where to begin and it was that, that astonished her most.
"How is your arm?" she asked finally, mainly just to break the lingering stony silence.
"Its fine. Merely a scratch really. Hook has done far worse by the edge of his sword then this dagger's deadly kiss." He retorted.
Wendy's eyes fell upon him, her brows rising.
"Hook?"
Once again, a smirk dusted the lad's lips and he nodded.
"That's right."
Wendy could resist no longer, as the questions finally came flooding back to her memory.
"Peter, why is it that you are here?"
The boy scratched the back of his head, ruffling his sunny tips in the process.
"I am looking for someone." He gazed at her with a sudden hopeful look. "Maybe you would know where I can find her lady. I seek a little girl by the name of Wendy Darling."
"L-little?"
Wendy's heart suddenly sunk to the pit of her stomach. She didn't know why this surprised her so for she muchly expected the statement to be uttered from Peter's lips. But it did hit her, slamming her as if a stone to her chest, and she just wanted to weep all her bitter tears away until she melted into a puddle of nothingness.
Of course he couldn't know. He was still just a boy at heart. He would always think of Wendy as the little girl he had played with once upon a time and that figure was how he would always remember her by. After all, he didn't promise to remember the adult. Time, she remembered, never moved with him, never got older, never grew up. It was no surprise therefore, he still looked for the child.and she wondered, was it possible he could still see beyond the adult, behind the limited spirit to the burning force beating strongly within her chest..no, she supposed he could not.
"I am sorry Peter." She whispered, her voice so hollow and empty that it could almost pass as a tongue on the breeze. "There are no little girls present here any longer, and I can not help you."
Tears lined Wendy's eyes as the merged with the throw carpet in front of her bed frame.
A palm suddenly grazed the base her chin, guiding her head to swivel towards the boy, where his intense eyes came to dwell upon hers. She tried hard to look away but he would not allow it. And so she sat, fighting for all she was worth to keep the tears at bay, while Peter's eyes seemed to do a careful search of hers. A heavy sigh heaved from his chest as he finally released his hold.
" Oh well. I suppose the adult version of Wendy will have to do then." He said shrugging.
The girl froze, as if her body were trapped in space and time. Her head snapped up were her eyes met a familiar smirk that dripped with playful mischief. Peter waggled his eyebrows, as his eyes themselves continued to bore into hers intensely as he awaited the girl's reaction. Wendy did not fail to disappoint either.
"You-You.You recognize me?!"
Peter just sat there, a word unspoken, the same expression written firmly across his face. Wendy's brows suddenly furrowed indignantly and her fists bawled.
"You wretched boy!" she hissed slugging him in the arm as hard as she could manage.
A melodious laughter filled her ears, causing her anger to diminish into nothingness as she became hypnotized by its enchanting spell. Remembering the magic she thought she might have forgotten so long ago now.
"I told you I wouldn't forget. I'll always know you, no matter how.big.you get." He began, "For only you have the scent of a pixie wind permeating with the fragrance of lilacs and wild roses mixed with an early morning rain."
"My perfume." She whispered, more to herself then to him.
"Only you have those eyes in which you can see the reflection of the whole universe, shining through crystal glass as it stares back at you."
Wendy was rendered speechless.her mind completely blank except the words spoken, which burned themselves deeper into her mind, becoming part of the legend. She moved to try and reply but a sudden crash from down the hall averted her attention sharply towards her door.
The duo, listened in astonishment as things seemed to fly around behind the barrier. A rush of footsteps pounding furiously down the corridor, shod with intent for her room and Wendy could hear the chandelier rattle from below. There was a nasty sliding sound as whatever was beyond the room tried to slow their momentum and it sounded as if they pulled the whole wall tapestry down with them. The brass knob turned forcefully, as something collided with the wooden opening viciously, and Wendy was sure it was be ripped from its very hinges.
As it flew ajar, a blur of a boy skidded into the room, tripping over the carpet, being dumped in a heap on the floor, face first. This didn't seem to deter the lad as he scrambled to his hands and knees, his eyes immediately fixing on the bed. Their intense blue deepened as the sun swept across their brilliance and the fiery locks incasing them. Michael's mouth dropped to the floor.
"Bloody hell it is true! You're back!" he screeched.
Wendy's lips parted in shock. "Michael! Watch your mouth!"
The boy hadn't heard her as his eyes became fixed solely upon the copper faced lad sitting cross-legged on the comforter, his body drifting into a light hover, transfixed somewhere between solidity and zephyr. As if in a trance, Michael slowly rose to his feet, cautiously, his steps wavering as if he were greatly struggling to balance himself. Peter cocked his head to one side, his aquatic eyes washing their mystic waves into the lad's mind. Michael's mouth moved in unpredictable rhythm, words desperately trying to escape through his esophagus and when he finally did find a voice in the depths of his throat, all he could manage was a:
"Hi."
Peter seemed mildly disappointed and yet, at the same time, truly amused. His amusement won over and a small smirk, sheened his lips. His chuckle became light, as if it were the beautiful chime of the pixie's tinkling wings, or perhaps the sound of rushing water, permeated with the lingering essence of silver moonbeams and crystal light ribboning through golden dew. He rose a foot off the bed, leaning over his lap, resting his chin in his palm, placing his elbow into thin air as if it were a sturdy platform.
Wendy suddenly remembered John's prescription concerning Peter's health.
'..NO FLYING. Peter is to stay on the ground, no being air born for at least three days. Thus, he is stuck here in London until then understood? No Neverland. Not until his arm has sufficient time to rest.'
She quickly snapped out of her continuous daze, stepping to the foot of her bed.
"Peter, get down from there this instant! You are not to fly, float or hover for at least three days until your shoulder has adequate time to rest its weariness. Understood?" The look in her eye, gave Peter the indication that she was not going to except any such rebuke or rebuttal he might present to her. Thusly, he sighed in agitation, reluctantly acquiescing her request as he sunk low to the bed once more. Wendy opened her mouth to say more but, the pout rendered across his face was priceless and the girl could not help but comply to his silent request, laughing into the air. He smirked, rising to his feet, making sure that his childhood friend was occupied before, slowly floating towards the doorway. Wendy's sharp burst, shirked him immediately to the floor boards.
"Peter!" she warned, her brow furrowed against him.
His shoulders sunk dejectedly, but he said not a word.
Wendy walked directly towards the younger boy, stopping a foot in front of him. Even though she was twenty, he was still just a tad bit taller then her, maybe a half an inch to an inch.
"Peter, why are you here?" she whispered, suddenly, losing her meekness and courage on the breath of the wind.
Her eyes searched his, begging for answers to so many thoughts marring her thoughts, gnawing at the very marrow of her bones.
"Why did you come back?"
Michael nodded in agreement, both eyes intently engrossed in the boy. Instead of answering, Peter walked over to the window, an uncharacteristic cloud of soberness lingering over his head.
"I don't know." He admitted, his eyes dancing across the motion of the wind filled tree, waving in rhythm.
Below the streets of London were busy. The rain had stopped and only the lingering aroma of the shower remained, saturating the sky with its freshness. The lilacs were just starting to bud and peter could smell its rich sweetness hydrating everything its breath touched.
"I suppose I was bored and I wanted to see how much things had changed. I didn't realize so much time had come and gone. Things move slowly in Neverland you know."
"Time doesn't exist in Neverland Peter." Wendy reminded. "You know that."
Peter's eyes caught hers, the light of the sun reflecting behind them, just peering at her a moment, as if looking through the windows to the soul hidden within. After a few seconds, he leaned closer, putting a space of four inches between them. "It only exists if you want it to." He explained softly. "I never had any need for it. Therefore, for me, time stands still. That's why I never grow older. In Neverland in general, its always moving, it never stops flowing."
"Oh." Wendy murmured weakly, losing her voice to the wind again. "I flew by the same route I always had, over roof tops and sleepy villas, only to find myself heading directly to the same window I had visited so many times before." He chuckled in spite, shaking his head. "I landed in the same tree as always, the sound of a story filled my ears intriguing me and so I flew to the ledge to listen in, however, I was distracted by the nursery. It looked so very different then from what I remembered it to be. Two beds instead of three, books instead of toys, suits instead of costumes. I reached forwards however, the window was barred and that was when I suppose that I received the first indication I had that a great deal of time had passed, more then I actually realized." Perplexed and undeterred, Peter explained he flew to the next window which proved unlocked. Slipping inside, he floated over to a bed in the center of the room, watching a shadowed figure sleep silently. He whisked past, into the hall past the door and Wendy realized that it was this that awoke her at first. He had searched the nursery first, looking for the little girl with the long chocolate curls and piercing blue eyes. He came upon the beds of the two boys, gazing at the faces by the light of the full moon. He first stumbled upon a fair skinned dark-haired teen. His face so peaceful as he slept. On the side of the night table, a pair of spectacles laid, collecting the endless trails of reflection and shadows from around the smaller room, including Peter's. The fiery curls of the next boy glowed like burning copper in the incandesnt light, jerking Peter's attention towards them. His mouth had suddenly fell, his eyes widening in recognition. It was an older version of the face to be sure however, it still did not deceived the youth as he quickly placed the name with the hair..Michael.Michael Darling. His eyes frantically darted to the first boy in his own bed and suddenly, he didn't feel so cocky, his hands falling from his hips to his sides, a lump catching in his throat. The moonlight caught the shards of stubble staining the young man's face, his lengthy bangs swishing across his forehead, flashing across the bridge of his nose. Peter's eyes again fell to the glass's reflection.John.this was John.Darling. Peter felt like his lungs could explode from the lack of breath he was in taking.shock, he was in shock, his eyes wide. He backed towards the door, eyes never once swerving from the two figures. All at once he turned, scurrying out of the room blindly, half flying, half running, bumping into several items lined in the narrow corridor as he went. Wendy, he had to find Wendy. He rushed to the back of the hall, his haste causing him to knock into a side table resting neatly against the wall, the same one his shadow had played hide and seek in so long ago now. It created a sound disruption that echoed down to the other end of the hallway, plundering several objects to their sides forcefully. He was about to head towards the room he had entered from but the abrupt sound of footsteps against the wooden boards, deterred his efforts. A strong, feminine voice called out, shakily at first, but shortly gaining strength.
"Who is there?!"
He had froze, not even attempting to breath more then a light whisper and only when his lungs began to burn ripping its fingers towards the hollow cavern of his chest outside his body, desperately trying to pull air in towards them. The girl's voice grew closer, as did the commanding tone with in it.
"Answer me!"
It had been no request, that much was for sure and he suddenly became compelled to reach out for her, feeling the warmth of her flesh and blood pulsing under his fingertips. He had not realized she was armed until the swarthy blade had kissed his skin viciously, licking its lips of the fresh blood dipping down its tip. He cried out in more shock then pain. He hadn't quite expected that one at all. Her courage made him all the more curious and he became determined to find out who this was. But he found himself having to dodge blows for his effort as he listened to her shoot things out at him, each saying meaning to be like a searing needle cauterizing his flesh.
"What right have you to just charge into one's house unannounced, uninvited?!"
"What have you come for?!"
With each striking statement, the resilience and bit of her words increased, the sharpness gaining mountains of strength. Peter couldn't help it and he took the first opportune time to grab her wrist, spinning her against her chest. The immediate fragrance of morning dew and lilacs wafted into his nose and his eyes grew in an awareness.
"Who are you girl?" he whispered.
She snorted angrily, no indication of fear drifting from her body and Peter could help but find this oddly amusing.
"Why do you care pirate?!" she spat.
Peter chuckled lightly shaking his head.
"Pirate? No, no, no! I am no pirate, I can guarantee you that. But who are you? Are you a pirate? You seem much too good to be one." He reasoned.
"A pirate? Me?!" she scoffed, breathing sharply in annoyance. "I am a warrior who brandishes a sword and flies across the bows of the sky, a child of the earth and wind. I kill pirates!"
Peter froze under this very familiar venom, finally placing the oh so familiar spirit with a memory..pirate, warrior, sword, flies.a memory turned into a face.then finally a name..Wendy.
However, Peter had no time to ponder these new revelations as he felt the hateful dagger's tip pierce his skin forcefully, as it was plunged mercilessly into his left shoulder. Every thing after became a hazy blur of endless color swirling together in the same picture. The next thing he knew, he awoke beside a young woman who had skin like that of ivory porcelain, and whose tresses shimmered a honey blonde in the light bathing the room, the sweet kiss of the morning breeze, caressing her face gently with its fingertips, promising to leave her in her limbo, caught in the world of dreams, in the state between awake and slumber and it was here that she found her lasting peace and the eyes of the youth hidden behind the adult; crisp and blue, stained with a permanent twinkle belonging to only that of adventure, her one true soul mate. .Wendy. Peter agreed, and did not disturb her, instead, walking towards the window to greet the coming spring, bearing ever so closely now on the English horizon.
Wendy's eyes misted as she stared at the boy fondly. Her epitome of adventure.
She smiled lightly, asking a question of which she already knew the answer to.
"You're not going to stay are you?"
Peter didn't reply and, he didn't have to. No. Peter would never stay, this was not his world, the world of rules and regulations, of strictness and etiquette, society and stature. No. He didn't belong to this world, he was too different, too set apart from anything else, too wonderful to belong. And that was ok, he was Pan.and Pan was better left the way Pan was, untouched, unattainable and untamed.
"Well, you have to stay for at least three days until your shoulder properly heals. Until then, you aren't to go anywhere," she stated firmly, stepping even closer to him. "Understood?"
He nodded and she was quite surprised when he didn't even show the slightest hint of resistance.
"What shall I do for that allotted time?"
Michael's eyes lit up, his pearly white teeth baring in a huge grin.
"That's easy, we'll catch you up on the latest and show you around the city." He stated eagerly.
Peter thought for a long moment, before nodding in approval.
"I think that is a fascinating idea!"
Michael beamed, as he raced out the door to the bedroom, calling an 'I'll be right back!' over his shoulder.
Peter's attention returned to the girl in front of him, suddenly realizing, they hadn't even bid eachother hello. He smiled, bowing politely.
"Hello Wendy-lady.It's been a while and you." he paused looking her up and down, causing a rose to dust the girl's cheeks. "Got big."
She nodded giggling slightly, in spite of herself.
"Tis true Peter. I am twenty years old."
The lad's eyes widened.had it really been.he counted mentally from four-teen up.six years? He gulped deeply. "Six years." he whispered.
Wendy's hair floated around her in a spiraling curtain as her head bobbed ever so slightly. "Six years."