Time here, all but means nothing, just shadows that move across the wall
They keep me company, but they don't ask of me they don't say nothing at all.
Her back was to the window. As usual, it was open, the gossamer curtains fluttering in the chilling breath of harsh cold, pulling strands of now mahogany hair from the respectable knot in the back of her head. She didn't hear him; she hadn't heard him for years and years.
He listened to her sigh as she bent to pick her bag up from her side and watched her stiffen. She turned slowly, the baby blue eyes widening at the sight of him, the sun bleached curls on his forehead darkened now, to a light brown, the sparkle in his green eyes gone. "Peter." She whispered, shock coating the name of the boy who had in fact aged, albeit only a year.
"Why don't you love me anymore?"
She flinched as if he'd smacked her, recovering quickly as she straightened and stared. "You've grown up." She stated, very matter-of-factly, taking an acted, haughty step toward him, her gaze sweeping him appraisingly. "How?"
He didn't change his stance; fists still on his hips. "Everyday I come and watch, but you never notice." He accused. "You said you loved me forever."
"Forever is an awfully long time, Peter." Wendy rebuked, picking up her bag once more. "I've grown up. I have a husband now." The haughty, triumphant look faded into that of concern. "What's happened to you, Peter?"
He stepped away, fists faltering. "I came to get you," he muttered harshly. "so you can tell us stories."
"The Lost Boys have grown up too." She stepped forwards, hardly a foot apart. He towered over her by a good three or four inches. "Peter, it's time that you grow up too."
SMACK.
Her hand flew to her cheek and she stared at him, his breath hissing through clenched teeth. "You can't make me a man!" He yelled over and over, the mantra softly turning to a crazed mumble, his scarred and rough fingers sifting through his hair. "Stories, Wendy-mother." He sobbed. "Happily Ever After." She took a step toward him, but he backed away, like a crazed animal.
"Oh Peter, what's happened?"
"Love Wendy!" He grasped her by the arms and shook her. "You said you loved me! You need to teach me love. Love. Love." He began his muttering again, stepping away. Wendy shook her head as he backed toward the window.
"I can't teach a monster how to love. Good-bye Peter. I've grown up."
And she pushed him out the window.
And I need just a little more silence
And I need just a little more time
But you send your thieves to me
silently stalking me Dragging me into your wall Would you give me no choice in this?
I know you can't resist, trying re-open a sore
Gwen smiled and waved. "See you tomorrow!" The smile vanished off her pale face, cheeks flushed pink from the cold wind as she wrapped her arms around herself, determined not to go back inside for her red parka, which her mother reminded her to grab before she left for the sleep over at Rebecca's house.
No mother. My purple tank top and jean jacket with holes wearing in the elbows are just fine! She thought bitterly, her Doc Martens crunching in the lightly falling snow. But Rebecca's house wasn't that far. She would be fine.
Hopping the fence that surrounded the miniscule, inner city front yard, Gwen made her way down the broken sidewalk. She shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around her self and eyed the shadows warily. Taking a left at the intersection, in the opposite direction of Rebecca's house, instead heading for the bus depot.
Life at the Raiden house was trying, at best. Her mother was only 13 years older than her, her father – was spending time at the State Prison since she was three, and for the 12 years following, the house on Brook Avenue began to fall apart.
Run away and never return. But never was such a-
"Why are you crying?"
Gwen screamed and whirled around, holding her bag in front of her as a shield. She looked at him; dark gold hair and sad eyes, dulled and gray. "Come away to Neverland." His voice was soft and he stepped closer, grabbing her hand and tracing her palm. "Come away and you won't ever have to cry again."
She gulped as he pushed a strand of dark brown-red hair from her flushed face and smiled.
Leave me be, I don't want to argue
I'd just get confused and I'd come all undone
If I agree, well, it's just to appease you
Cause I don't remember what we're fighting for
The long wooden table was a mess; white candles puddle into pools of impenetrable wax for decades, empty bowls scattered. Shadows danced on the walls from the oil lamps and that's where he stood, in the shadows, light flickering across his face every now and then.
He watched her lay in her bed (wendy's bed) softly snoring, which he found intriguing. It had been years since a girl, or anyone besides him and Tink had resided in here. But Tink was gone. All he had were the shadows and the sleeping girl with the tear stained face.
"Peter! I'm not Wendy! Stop calling me that!" Her big amber eyes were flashing with spitfire and he was not amused. He was Peter Pan. King of Neverland. Never wrong. She pressed her finger in his chest, punctuating each word. "I'm Gwen! Don't you know? Gwendolyn Moira Angela Raiden!"
"YOU ARE HER!" He screamed, pushing her hand away. "You have the same name!" He backed away, his eyes glinting strangely and he mumbled incoherently, sifting his fingers through his hair. "Same hair. Same eyes. Same name-"
Her tiny hand picked up an empty bowl and threw it across the room, sending it clattering against the floor. Peter looked at her, his mumblings slowing, his hands clutching his scalp. "We're not the same person! You're delusional!" She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "I'm leaving Peter-"
It happened so fast; neither could really later recall what happened.
One moment, they had been feet apart, screaming and yelling, the next was the resounding smack that resonated through the hollow room. The hit came so hard, that Gwen staggered back a step, her hand covering her quickly reddening cheek. His arm was frozen across his bare chest and they locked eyes; lifeless greenish gray, horrified amber.
Her lip quivered and her eyes glossed over and then he was pulling her against him, pressing a soft kiss on her temple. "Never leave me." He breathed quietly into her ear, kissing her temple again. She pulled away, shaking from lips to fingertips and met his eyes, their noses almost touching.
"Never-"
no
"is-"
No
"an awfully-"
No No
"Long time."
NO!
You see love- a tight, thorny thread that you spin in a circle of gold
You have me to hold me, a token for all to see captured to be yours alone
Gwen pushed a curl of sweat-dampened hair away from his peacefully sleeping face and cocked her head. How long had she been here, here in this mind-boggling paradise? Weeks, it must be. No, far too long. Months? Her mother's only worry would be what would Children's services would ask.
Bitch deserved whatever fate.
She glanced as him as he made a noise in his sleep and tugged her closer to him. He dreamed, always dreamed. Always about her, that Wendy. Gwendolyn Moira Angela Darling. Wendy had a daughter named Jane, who had a daughter named Lynn, who had a daughter named Catherine who was quite fond of her great-great grandmother, and at an extremely young age, had a daughter and named her that; Gwendolyn Moira Angela Raiden.
A daughter who was currently laying next to the boy who would never grow up, who would remain 15 or 16 forever and ever, who seemed to be driving himself mad. Gwen sighed once more and lay her head on his chest and stared at the ceiling, through the gaps in the roots. She had read the books. When Wendy left, she took everyone with her. All the Lost Boys, leaving Peter behind, after telling him she loved him and him returning it in whatever way he could comprehend.
He was obviously in love with her. But as Gwen continued to think about it, she realized it.
And I need just a little more silence,
and I just need a little more time
Leave me be, I don't want to argue
I'd just get confused and I'd come all undone
If I agree, well, it's just to appease you
Cause I don't remember what we're fighting for
"You don't love me."
Peter dropped his sword and looked at her across the table, brow knit together in tight confusion. "What are you talking about?" He watched her pale hands dance above the table and she looked away briefly.
"You're sick, Peter." She said, coming toward him. His eyes were wide as he crept backwards, away from her. "You're obsessed with her, with Wendy." She blinked rapidly for a moment and took a deep breath. "You're only in love, obsessed with the idea of me, Peter."
He scowled darkly and grabbed her wrist roughly. "How could you say that?"
Tears rolled down her cheeks, but their eyes remained locked. "You're driving yourself mad, Peter. You're…controlled by her, by the memory of a woman who isn't here anymore and you're trying to replace her."
Peter turned purposefully toward the table, grabbing a flower that lay there and filling it with water. "Then I shall take my medicine and make everything better."
And he drank the water, refilling the cup three, four, eight, ten more times as Gwen stood in the middle of the room, arms hanging limply. Peter turned to her, a grin on his face and strode back to her. "See! I'm cured."
He watched her nod, smiling slightly through her tears as she grabbed his hand in her hot little one and led him toward the bed. "Yes," she said. "You are cured."
He never payed any attention to the sadness in her voice.
Time here,
all but means nothing,
just shadows that move across the wall
They keep me company,
but they don't ask of me
they don't say nothing at all.
Gwen's eyes fluttered open at mid-day to the sound of crowing filtering in from the outside. Scowling, she went to snuggle closer into Peter's chest when she sat up quickly.
Peter wasn't there.
She jumped and wrapped the blanket tightly around her as a ball of golden light zoomed about the room, like tinkling bells. Pulling on a pair of worn pants and tucking in the front of her large sleep shirt, Gwen looked for something to whack the zooming ball of light. Spying a wooden spoon on the table, she reached for it when Peter grabbed her wrist.
"This is Tinkerbell." He said proudly. Gwen jumped when the tiny ball of light zoomed in front of her face, revealing a little blonde fairy whom made a tinkling sound and stuck her tongue at her. Peter frowned. "That's not very nice Tink." Smiling once more, he drug Gwen out of the den and topside.
It had been ages since Gwen had been on the surface, and she wiggled her toes in the soft earth. Had Peter gone completely mad? She had never seen him this happy. And as he floated into the air and flew lazy circles over her, it occurred to her that she hadn't seen him really fly since she had arrived.
"I realized this morning," He said zooming around the small clearing. "That I haven't taught you how to fly." He flipped on to his stomach, crossing his arms under his chin. "Just think a happy thought, and a little pixie dust and you'll be set to go."
Gwen frowned. "But I don't have any more happy thoughts, Peter." The boy shook his head.
"Would you like to know mine? I have plenty to share." At her nod, Gwen felt Peter land behind her. She could feel his breath against her ear and looked at the ground. "I have many, but my favorite one is you, Gwendolyn Raiden." He breathed, kissing her temple and tossing pixie dust on her. "Tell me yours."
Gwen turned around in his embrace and pressed her forehead against his. "My happy thought is you, Peter Pan."
Leave me be, I don't want to argue
I'd just get confused and I'd come all undone
If I agree, well, it's just to appease you
Cause I don't remember what we're fighting for
Fini