Author's Note: Since this is the first official chapter of the story, it's not too late to make some introductions of some sort. I'd like to start off by saying that this is no way in shape or form based on the Disney version of Peter Pan. I can't even imagine writing anything based on that version. Your closest bet to figuring out what I've based it on would probably be Peter Pan and the Pirates BUT not entirely. You see, I don't remember it well enough to base characters' personalities entirely on the show and things like that. So, I might take a few elements out of the show, like Billy Jukes. Secondly, I'd like to make my disclaimer now. Peter Pan was created by J.M. Barrie. That's all that I can think of right now. If there's anything else, I'll add it in another chapter. Enjoy the chapter.
Nothing Gold Can Stay: chapter 1
Death Beseeches Him
I'm dying.
That was the first thought that he thought when he woke up every morning and the last thought that he thought when he went to sleep every night.
I'm dying.
He was dying and there was nothing that he could do about it. Soon he would be dead and there was nothing that he or anybody else could do about it.
I'm dying.
That morning was not any different from the rest. He still thought about the fact that he was dying like he did any other morning.
I'm dying.
He couldn't get up. What was the point, anyway? He was dying. He practically had no friends anymore. There was Tinkerbell and Tootles, but they couldn't comfort him.
Dying…
He knew what would happen. He would die alone and friendless and no one would give a second thought about him. The others had all abandoned him, so why should they care?
I'm dying.
Hell, he could even die the next day. He could go to sleep and not wake up. He could—
"Peter, get up."
Peter squinted with annoyance when his fairy whispered imploringly into his ear. He swatted her away and turned over in his hammock.
"Come on, Peter," Tinkerbell pressed, tugging on his ear. "I know you're awake."
Instead of getting up, he curled up into a ball and wrapped his arms around himself.
Tinkerbell sighed but she would not give up. She was determined to get him out of bed; it was too nice of a day. "The sun's been up for hours, sleepyhead," she pressed, now tugging on his hair. "You're not staying in bed—not when it's such a nice day outside."
"Go 'way, Tink," Peter ordered, curling up even tighter. "I don't want to get up so leave me alone."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, frustrated, hands on her hips. "Fine! Stay in bed all day! See if I care!"
Peter swiftly sat up and faced Tinkerbell. "What does it matter, huh? What does it matter at all? I'm going to die anyway so what does—"
"Don't say that!" she shouted, furious. "Don't ever say that again, Peter!"
"Why?" He stood up so that he was face to face with her. "It's the truth, Tinkerbell—"
"You don't know that—"
"Don't lie to me!" Peter's face was red with all his bottled up emotions. It was the first time that he was actually letting them out. "It's the truth! You and I both know it, Tinkerbell! You're not stupid and neither am I and neither is Tootles! He knows it too!"
She was at a loss of words. She did know it but she had never wanted to face it.
"So if you want me to get up, fine, I'm up!" shouted Peter. He was trembling now. "But I can't play make believe and pretend that what's true isn't happening because it is! I'm not a child anymore! Look at me! I can't play make believe anymore! Just look at me!"
It was true. Tinkerbell examined him. It was true. He wasn't a child anymore. He was a young man. He was a growing young man and she was just as scared as he was.
A few moments of silence passed before Peter quietly said, "I'm sorry, Tink. Don't cry."
She was crying. She did not even notice that she was crying.
Peter turned away from her. He hated that he had made Tinkerbell cry and he couldn't look at her. Subconsciously, he floated into the air before saying, "I just wish you knew how I feel. It's like…like..." But he couldn't find the words to explain. Frustrated with himself, he flew out the open skylight above them.
Tinkerbell let another tear fall down her cheek. Her poor boy. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him and that she was there for him, but she knew that he would just ignore her.
Hearing a floorboard creak behind her, Tinkerbell said, "You know, it's really hard not being able to protect him anymore," she said quietly.
Even though Tinkerbell could not see him, she knew that Tootles was nodding in agreement like he always did, as if he understood. But he really didn't. In all his efforts to understand, he never would because he didn't love Peter the way that she did.
"Tink." Tootles had been doing some hard thinking. He as well as anybody else knew that Peter was dying, but there had to be someone who could help. Someone. And he could only think of one person who had once been able to solve all of Peter's problems.
"Yes, Tootles?" said Tinkerbell, facing him and wiping away the remainder of her tears.
"I've been thinking."
And now, Tootles watched her meekly from the shadows, filled with such awe and wonder. She was old. Well, not old, but older, clearly not the young girl that she had been. And with that, Tootles realized how young she really had been when she left he and the other boys in Neverland compared to now. They all had been so young.
No. That was not what Tootles had come for, not to wallow in old memories.
"I can't believe that I let you bring me here," whispered Tinkerbell, sourly. She was perched on his shoulder and was still quite upset that they had come.
Tootles did not answer. Instead, he continued to watch her. He watched her turn off the dim lights in the room and open her window and gaze out into the night sky.
"Oh, close your mouth, Tootles," snapped Tinkerbell. "That gaping look doesn't suit you."
He watched her stiffen up at the window. She had heard Tinkerbell.
"Is this what you brought me here for?" demanded Tinkerbell. "To watch her stare out the window!"
Desperately, Tootles tried to calm her down. "Stop yelling!" he whispered loudly.
But it was too late. She had heard. "Who's there?"
Tootles held his breath, suddenly afraid. She sounded so…so menacing and so un-motherly, not like how he remembered. He shouldn't have been there, but it was too late. If he tried to escape, she would see him.
Tinkerbell huffed impatiently. "I cannot believe you, Tootles! Just what are you waiting for?"
"Stop yelling!" he begged through gritted teeth. He had come all that way so he might as well have made himself known. Stepping out of the shadows, he watched her, waiting for her reaction. She did not have a chance to react because Tinkerbell flew to her, stopping only inches away from her face.
"Tinkerbell?" she breathed. Disbelief filled her voice.
"Of course it's me!"
"I…I can't understand you," she said apologetically. "I've forgotten how."
"I said, of course it's me!" Tinkerbell shouted so that the girl could understand her. This was so typical of her. Tinkerbell should have known that she wouldn't have gotten any smarter than before. "I can see you haven't changed much. You're still a big, ugly, stupid girl."
The girl was not fazed. In fact, it was as if she had not even heard the fairy. She walked past her, eyes set on Tootles, mesmerized. She took her time to examine him, giving his body a once over. "Peter?"
"No. Tootles," he replied, shaking his head. Tootles could see her eyes widen and her mouth slightly drop open.
"W-what?" she finally said.
"It's me, Wendy," he said, stepping closer. "It's me, Tootles."
"But…but…" Swiftly, Wendy switched on her lights. She turned back to Tootles, even more surprised now that she could see him in the light.
Something was awfully wrong. He was very tall and thin. He towered over her and she might have been intimidated if she was not so full of shock. And, he had such a darling face.
By now, Tootles was feeling even more uncomfortable. Why was she staring at him like that? What was she thinking? She looked like she was about to say something, but she never got around to saying it. What was she going to say? "Wendy," said Tootles. "Please, say something. You're making me nervous."
"Oh!" Wendy couldn't stop herself from running to him and squeezing him. Even though it was hard to believe—hard to even imagine—that the young man that she was hugging was really Tootles, she believed him. Something told her to trust that this was him. "I can't believe it! Look at you. What's happened to you?"
Then Wendy pulled away from him and he made the same face that he made whenever she used to hug him—that same face filled with such content and she was certain that it was him.
"No time to explain now." He grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the window. "Come on, let's go."
Wendy tore her hand from him. "Wait! How did you even get in here? How did you even know that this was my room? I've moved out of the nursery—"
"I'll explain everything once we get to Neverland," said Tootles, reaching out for her hand again.
Rather than placing her hand in his, Wendy kept hugging it close to herself. He wanted her to go with him to Neverland? Everything was happening so fast. She wanted answers. Why had Tootles changed from the little boy she had left behind? How had he gotten into her room without her noticing? And why on earth was he there without Peter? It was all so strange.
"Wendy?" Tootles called, falteringly. Tinkerbell came to land on his shoulder, whispering for him to abandon Wendy and for them to make their way back to Neverland without her, but he ignored her. "Wendy?"
"Tootles…I'm sorry, but you can't just come into my room in the middle of the night without explaining yourself and expect me to go with you to Neverland," Wendy said quietly, backing away from him. "I…this all happened so fast. I'm not even sure what to think of it yet. I…" She wanted to do the grown up thing and firmly dismiss him and tell him that she would not go back with him because she wanted to grow up, but…
Tootles blinked at her, digesting what she had just told him. "So…if I explain to you why I'm here, you'll come?"
Wendy quickly shook her head. "I can't promise you that, Tootles."
"I'll explain anyway." He sighed and then said, "Peter is dying and you're the only one who can help him."
End Note: Yes, I know that the chapter seemed sort of vague and perhaps quickly written. Or maybe, just a quick read. I wanted it that way. I don't want too much to be known at once and I definitely don't want to get into the story too fast. So, comments of any kind are fine. But, if you're going to flame, just don't waste your time. Thanks for reading.