Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I'm trying to make this as unique as possible. There are so many great fics for Peter Pan that it's hard to not want to copy them in some way or another. In trying to write this story, I have faced a few difficulties and I'm trying to make everything smooth. This chapter was a bit rushed so I'm sorry if it's got a lot of errors on it.
Enola: Unfortunately, I am not going to have Hook make an appearance. The most he will have is a flashback but nothing new.
ChildofGod: This story is leading towards them finally meeting each other again. I was in a debate on whether or not I would go to Wendy's POV. I decided against doing so for now. I probably will in the upcoming chapters to get a little balance but I think the suspense of the story being one sided is more interesting.
Chapter Two
Lessons continued each day and Peter found his thoughts wandering more than usual. He had, had the same nightmare again the night before. The nightmares had increased when he had returned from London that fateful night. When before, he would not remember then once he awakened, now he could. They were all circled the same person.
He was back in Neverland, reliving the last defeat of Hook. How he had watched Hook slowly descend as Wendy and the Lost boys chanted. Wendy who had needed no promptly for her to know what he was thinking. For it was she who finished his thought by saying, "Done for". He had grinned at her then. Wendy,, was she ever anything other than perfect? Except for her need to and desire to grow up, she had been. Now that he was growing up along with her, she would be nothing less now.
Peter shook his head to go back to his nightmare. The voice of his tutor was drowned out, once again, by his musings. Hook had lost his happy thoughts and had fallen within the mouth of the crocodile. He had returned Wendy to her parents along with his friends and comrades. He had promised that he would return. He had promised he would never forget. The feeling of his heart breaking as he had waved good-bye to her. Things would never be the same in his heart. Without her, the island was never as colorful. The adventures would never been as intriguing. Without her stories, everything was in an unbearable silence.
This dream always started the same. He was flying back, towards Wendy's home. Despite his many adventures, he had remembered to keep his promise to come back for Wendy. He had never forgotten completely about her, he just had just been distracted. His carefree existence had no time to pick her up. Finally, his thoughts had begun to center only around Wendy until he had relented and left Neverland to get her. His memory was almost perfect when it came to directions on how to get there. Why wouldn't it? Hadn't he been there just a couple days before to drop her off?
Just as she had promised, her window was not locked when he arrived and he easily opened it to fly into the darkened nursery. The only light was from the carefully lit fireplace in the corner. He paid it no heed as he quietly walked towards Wendy's bed on the far wall and called out her name.
"Wendy, I have come back for you."
"Hello Peter," answered a soft voice behind him.
He turned around and smiled as he saw the silhouetted figure sitting beside the fireplace.
"There you are," he grinned.
"I cannot come with you Peter," she answered with a sad laugh. "I have forgotten how to fly."
"Pfftt," he said undeterred. "I shall teach you again."
"It is more than that," she said as she slowly stood to her full height. He still could not see her face but she was good foot taller than he was. It was something worse than feeling Hook stab his heart out. He who felt he could get though any situation with a laugh. A laugh was the furthest thing from his mind as he felt the utter defeat of growing old. His precious Wendy had become an adult. She had moved along to another journey, leaving him behind. His heart sank at the dawning revelation and he begged her not to turn on the light. She heard his plea but didn't listen as she slowly turned the lamp on.
He always awoke just as her face was to be revealed to him. Even though it was a dream and there had been no real face, it made no difference. It was just the cold reality that his Wendy would grow up and grow old no matter what he wished. Sometimes he could faintly make out what she had looked like as a grown up but the images quickly faded. He took comfort in the fact that he had bested her in this. He has grown so that he would not be left behind. That still did not stop his nightmare and he feared the reason why his subconscious still plagued his mind on the issue.
"Young Master Panning," said the tutor, startling Peter out of his revelry. "You would progress a great deal more if you paid attention."
"My apologies Mr Goddard," said Peter as he straightened himself up.
"May I inquire as to what you were meditating so deeply on?" a raised eyebrow followed the question.
"A possibly future," answered Peter honestly. "A possible future that I am trying to avoid."
"Then perhaps it would be best if you kept your mind on your studies for a better future than you picture."
"Yes sir," said Peter as he looked at the blackboard to take his notes. He stopped himself when he heard Mr. Goddard give out a tired sigh.
"I think this would be a good time to stop young sir," he commented.
"Is there anything wrong sir?" asked Peter.
"I think I need to speak to Mr. Smee," Goddard answered.
"Have I really behaved that badly?" worried Peter. "I will try harder."
"You try hard enough my lad," smiled the professor. "There are a couple things I must discuss with Mr. Smee about your progress."
"Shall I get him for you then?" offered Peter with an attempt at a smile. He wasn't feeling particularly chipper at the moment.
"That would be very kind," answered Goddard warmly.
Peter stood somewhat awkwardly from his desk and made his way over to the door. He gave the man a quick, uncertain glance before he closed the door with a soft click. In the beginning of his education, he had been more than a handful for his tutors. There had been many confrontations against his running around, back talking, haughty demeanor and his lack of patience. He was a boy, what could they have expected of him. They hadn't expected what he was, is what. True he was generally well behaved but there were days that his patience was thin and the old and mischievous Pan returned with a vengeance. But, when as before, he was untamable, it did not take much to get him back in line. That is when he would remember himself and settle down. It had taken a good deal of time to get Peter to become calm and just slightly mischievous. His temperament had become increasingly cooler but it would flare to life when provoked.
Temper was not something that you would think associated with Peter at the moment, as he made his way to find Mr. Smee. He found his mentor standing near a window and gazing down at the busy streets below. He was wearing a fine suit with his hands behind his back. When he heard Peter approaching, he turned his head and smiled. His age was showing increasingly more with each passing year. Peter could see new wrinkles forming around his eyes from the light reflecting from the window.
"He wants to see me does he?" asked Smee, quite amused at Peter's nervousness.
"He stopped lessons short so that I could summon you," answered Peter.
"Day dreaming again?"
"Yes," confessed Peter miserably. Smee would probably prolong another attempt to meet Wendy.
"Don't go worrying yourself over that my lad," reassured Smee, knowing the direction of Peter's thoughts. "You wouldn't be human if you paid attention all the time."
Peter let out a sigh of relief as he managed a smile. "So you know what he wishes to speak to you about then."
"Ay," answered Smee. "I sense this is the end of your lessons today. Go do what you please."
Without another word, Peter was gone. He knew just where he would head to first.
If he could not fly along the chimneys of London, he could walk it's streets all he pleased, thought Peter. His boundless energy was spent walking up and down London's sidewalks as he became more and more familiar with the city he had only seen from the sky. The city was much more interesting when you walked past the droves of people that walked along its streets. He could always feel the energy and bathed in its power. Since he was not the kind of person to sit idly by and let everything pass him by when he had the chance, he quickly grabbed his jacket, coat, gloves and hat to make another expedition to Wendy's house. He had just gotten the first arm within the coat sleeve when, he was approached by Mr. Collins.
"The mail has just arrived sir," announced the old man quietly.
"Oh burn it all Mr. Collins," answered Peter as he put his other arm neatly in his coat. "I have no care to look at more of those."
The old butler stood there with his mouth agape.
Peter gave him a mischievous grin before laughing good-naturedly. "You know I do not need to look at this. Even though I am the one to hurry through it," explained Peter. The man before him was so easy to tease that he could not help but tease his shyness. "If you would please let Mr. Smee know that it has been delivered. I am off to do an errand."
"Very well young master," he answered calmly. "What time shall we expect your return?"
"I shan't be gone long," replied Peter as he plopped his hat about his head and ran out the door.
Peter walked along the streets in a familiar pattern of tipping his hat to any lady acquaintances that he came across or nod to a gentlemen he knew. All the while he kept a steady and acceptable pace as he tried as quickly as possible to get to his destination. The trip never took him very long, even with the occasional interruption of a lady or gentleman that he encountered on his way. Some trips even took him to the bank that Mr. Darling was the manager of, just to see the work conducted by businessmen. His mind went back to what would be delivered in the mail that day.
There were always letters for Smee, but never for Peter. True, the invitations were always dressed to the Panning household but there were never any personal correspondences for Peter. Why should he? He had no close acquaintances to write him. Nor did he care to keep any if he had them. That did not stop him from wanting to be the first one to grab the mail from Mr. Collins almost every day. He never knew quite what he was expecting to find in the mail but he knew he should be looking out for something.
Given the nosiness of neighbors and the general nosiness of London society, everyone wanted to know more about the mysterious Panning household. A family that had, had no previous acquaintance before was now pushed in with only one heir to claim its name. It was a bit overwhelming to be burdened with so many questions during his first introduction to society. Smee had instructed him well on what to say and how to explain why he had no parents and why his parents were not heard of before. He cared little what people thought of him anyway. What he lacked in history, he compensated with in charm. Being a naturally vocal and enthusiastic person, he made conversation easy with both man and woman alike.
Peter seldom wanted to attend any functions even though he loved the attention paid him when he did. He found people in London boring and predictable. In a way, he had become a storyteller himself, as he could recall certain adventures that he had, had in Neverland. Only he never said it was Neverland, but in the far jungles of the Congo. He had learned to replace fantastical details to things that were logical to their small minded selves could accept. In a way it was his game to keep himself occupied at parties. He did find the constant giggling and chatter carried on by the ladies to be mind numbing and boring. Wendy had never giggled or chattered on about nonsense that he had no interest in. He knew what the weather was without them telling him and he did not care about the gossip of other families unless of course, the gossip was about a certain household.
The question of Peter's claimed profession seemed to be pressed more and more lately at parties. Of course his first reaction had been that he firmly loathed to work in an office. The knowledge that he could be paid rather handsomely for specific duties at an office was still not appealing to him. In Neverland, he had no need of money. He still had no real need of money either. Yes, he had learned the value of currency. Through his economics studies, he learned of different forms of money that different countries used as means of trade. It was another complicated matter that he had found difficult to comprehend. Then his mind came up with an understandable example. It was something more along the lines of when he had been trading beads and shells with the Indians in exchange for feathers and war paint.
The bright way in which he enlightened himself on the burdensome subject made him think that he could be a banker. This way he had something in common with Mr. Darling and he could work in a field that he could adapt to. Unfortunately, he was not very good at numbers to begin with so that idea was quickly passed on. He did not want to burden Smee with another difficult question and he was determined to find something for himself. He wanted so much to know what Wendy would prefer. Since it would make him appear to be perfect for her. The begged the question of what Wendy imagined at the perfect man. True, he had been the hero in most of her stories, but that was in a very fantastical sense. He loved that but he knew that it would take more than that. He had to be the hero in a very real sense to her. The pressure to be perfect could have been suffocating had it not been for his firm determination. Indeed, Peter Pan, was not a quitter.
For now, he would use the excuse that he was still undergoing some intense instruction before deciding upon what would suit him. Whatever occupation he decided, it had to be an outlet for his endless energy. Definitely something that he could, literally, throw himself into. If he kept himself within the confines of a cold, stone building every day, he would go mad. He knew that soon, just going on these daily walks would not satisfy him. Through the years, he had learned many facets about London. Smee had often taken him to the country side to see more of the country. He had to admit that it was all beautiful in its own unique way, but his heart never felt the irresistible tug to remain for too long. Visits were good enough for his curiosity. The vast open spaces had quickly gotten dull for his eyes. He loved the life of the city but it was too confining and its countryside was too empty. There had to be a place of balance.
It was with all these thoughts running through his head that distracted him enough to slam rather rudely into someone who had mistakenly walked just before him. Books dropped to the damp sidewalk.
"My apologies," said Peter as he knelt down to pick up some of the books.
"My fault for being in such a bloody rush," exclaimed the young man as he looked at Peter in the eye, a friendly smile on his face.
Peter's eyes widened and he felt a feel of dread as he realized that he had just collided with Nibbs. It was not time! He could not expose himself so soon. As he looked at Nibbs' face, he realized that there was no recognition from the other boy.
Nibbs had an embarrassed grin on his face as he finished collecting the books he had been carrying and stood up with Peter.
"I should have been paying more attention myself," said Peter. He felt a disappointed and relieved at the same time. Quickly he tried to think of something to say when he noticed a familiar title in his old friend's arms. "How do you like the white whale?"
"Not much to put it bluntly," sighed Nibbs with a laugh. "I'm not much for reading like this. I do prefer a story like '20,000 Leagues Under the Sea'."
Peter cocked an eyebrow as he tried to recall if he had read that book.
"Haven't gotten that one yet eh?" asked Nibbs excitedly. "My sister told us all about it."
Peter felt that all too familiar ache in his chest at the mention of Wendy.
"Tall tales about life under the sea and about a monstrous octopus!" he beamed as he extended his arms to emphasize his point.
Peter couldn't help but laugh with him. He grinned thinking that at least Nibbs had not changed in other ways.
"I shall request it with my bookseller the next I am in his store."
"It comes highly recommended by a great adventurer and storyteller," beamed Nibbs as he nodded more enthusiastically.
"And who would that be?" asked Peter, even though he already knew.
"My sister, Wendy."
"I see," said Peter softly as he diverted his eyes a moment. Wendy.
"The name's Nathaniel," announced Nibbs as he stuck out his hand rather abruptly.
It nearly took Peter back. He mentally shook his head. He did not have to practice such precise manners when he was with Nibbs.
"Nathaniel Darling," Nibbs finished as Peter shook his hand firmly.
"Peter Panning," said Peter as he looked to see if the name had registered to Nibbs.
Nibbs only shook his hand and grinned again. "Well, I should be off. Mother would have wanted me to home by now."
Peter could only nod back. "I am glad to have run into you Nathaniel." The formality had become so ingrained within him that all his reactions were becoming only polite. Peter wanted to shake his head at how much he had changed.
"I hope we meet again Peter," Nibbs nearly shouted as he sped to a near sprint towards his street.
Peter watched as his former friend ran off to the house that he had longed to enter. A horrible sinking feeling rushed into his gut and he almost found himself kneeling down at the pain. His heart pounded in his chest and he was suddenly very short of breath. One of his closest friends, someone that he had trusted to strategically plan out all their battles in Neverland, had forgotten him. He had not recognized him at all. Was his appearance and manner so different that even Nibbs wouldn't recognize him on the street? Was he even the person that he had been so long ago? He turned away from the house. There would be no standing in front of it today. He needed to sit down somewhere in peace. Some place that he knew he would be quiet and serene. Quickly and half stumbling from the shock, he made his way towards Kensington Gardens.
What really troubled Peter was not really Nibbs. His worst fears seem to come to a crushing reality. If Nibbs had forgotten Peter, had Wendy as well?