Author's Note: Nine days…I think that is a record for updating! I'm going to turn my attention to updating Stars Which Shine Only for Me, so I don't know how soon I will have the next chapter done for this story.
And once again, thank you all who reviewed: Iris Violetta Frankenmeyer, Dorothy Little, Zeldy, babs08, MiniEllie, platinum star, and prieto.
blondie3862: I'm glad you enjoyed the fight scene, it worked out better than I thought it would. When I posted the first chapter in July, the story was going be just two chapters long. (Chapter would have had Wendy discovering that Peter didn't like her new friend, and was all upset. Wendy assured Peter nothing would change between them and they got along just fine after that. The end. Boring, no?) Then the reviews started coming and the plot bunny took off, so this turned into a longer, more interesting story. So, yeah…you almost got the traditional little-tension-and-make-up-happily-ever-after bit.
rolletti: lol Yeah, they kissed. I actually forgot that they nearly did in chapter two. It is fun to write Peter as not completely being the happy carefree boy I often picture. Hmm, I cannot make any promises that you won't have a nervous breakdown if you read this chapter. You proceed at your own risk. ;)
kasmira36: Thank you, your compliment means a lot to me. It is true, J.M. Barrie's Pan is – to borrow Wendy's term – very "conceited" but also cocky (which Hook hates) and irresistible.
MelodicWendyThis takes place during the Darlings first trip to Neverland, and is nowhere near when they so quickly decided to return home. I hope Peter and Wendy will get together in the end…but Peter is so naïve that he doesn't even know the names of the new emotions he's experiencing, foremost among them: jealously; or how Running Deer views Wendy (though she may know if she was aware of the boy's interest); and he really does not know what Wendy could possibly be to him other than a mother. On Wendy's part, she is pretty much sick and tired of Peter's strange behavior and refusing to tell her outright what's the matter; and at the moment, she is hardly thinking of what she really wants to be to him (come on, it is so obviously how she feels toward him in the book!). So for now the odds don't seem to be in their favor. And I'm half wondering if one of them might not live to the end of the story…
Now on with the story!
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Chapter Five: When "Parents" Become Strangers
Peter shifted restlessly in his perch in a tree. He rubbed his forehead wearily. Unconsciously his hand wandered to brush his hair, then, realizing what he was doing, snatched it away with a fierce jolt. A deep blush rose in his cheeks, his pulse pounded, and a shiver ran down his back; he could still feel the fire which burned his scalp from where Wendy's small fingers had run through his messy curls. The boy shuddered.
Even here, alone, in the quietness of the forest, Peter felt no peace of mind. Wonderings raced through his head, making him dizzy. What, what had happened? What was happening to him? He was half-ashamed of his behavior; yet he had been unable to help himself. He had fought for control, but he had snapped under Wendy's sharp words and…what had he done? Was it a thimble, she had called it? He had given her a thimble.
"How dare she," Peter whispered to himself, "believe I have wronged her. It is she who has ruined everything." Peter squeezed his eyes shut, recalling, against his will, how much Wendy seemed to enjoy the company of her new friend, Running Deer, more than she did his. They no longer stayed up after the children had gone to bed, talking; she no longer gave him bright smiles or laughed with him as they would when playing with the others. She had changed, and now she only blossomed around that Running Deer. Now it was he who would cheer her up from her downcast state.
"I used to do that," Peter mused. "I could make her smile and laugh." It was painful watching the old Wendy come out in the presence of the Indian boy. Suppose he will take your place? a voice taunted him. Immediately Peter shook his head jerkily, sending the frightening thought away, not wanting to dwell on it. No, no, no. It was impossible. Wendy would never do such a thing.
A frown distorted Peter's features as he turned his mind to the Indian boy in question. To his growing irritation and confusion he noticed that the strange glances Running Deer gave Wendy did not cease as time went on. In fact, they intensified. Peter still had not the faintest idea what these looks meant, but he was livid that the boy would give them to Wendy. And lately, Running Deer had spied on Wendy without ever making his presence known as she went about the island, having no idea he and Peter himself followed her. The only relief Peter found in the situation was that Wendy seemed completely unaware of the attentions the boy paid her, and she did not know the necklace was from him. Oh, Peter knew it was from him. Never had any of the Indians given Wendy a present before. And Tiger Lily had quickly claimed it was not from her when she had delivered it to him that night long ago. Knowing that a boy would dare give Wendy – his Wendy – such a gift had quickly worsened Peter's mood. Thankfully he had nearly forgotten about the necklace until he saw Wendy wearing it today. The mere sight of it had brought a towering wave of memories and emotions back to him. He did not know what exactly Running Deer wanted with Wendy or from her, but whatever it was, he would not let Wendy give it to the boy. He would not lose her.
Suddenly Peter burst out laughing, dry and humorless it was. "'I promise I won't do it again. We can be friends again. Everything can be just like it was,'" he mimicked Wendy's words in a high-pitched, almost shrilling voice. He slammed his fist against the tree branch and ignored its painful throbbing. "She won't want everything to be just like it was before. She'll be all stubborn and refuse to give up her friendship with him. How like a girl," he grumbled, "they say one thing then go off and do another."
"You must really hate me, Peter." A strange pang hit him in the stomach as Wendy's self-accusation echoed in Peter's head. Was that what Wendy really thought of him…that he hated her? He had never been accused of hating before. It was a common and accepted fact that there was no respect lost between Peter and Hook: they were sworn enemies. But to be accused of hating one from his own band…it was unthinkable. But did he not hate Wendy? Of course, he didn't, though, granted, he was not on the best of terms with her now, but he could never truly hate her. If there was anyone he did truly hate, it was Running Deer. It was becoming harder and harder not just to demand a duel between them, fighting until the bitter end. But he managed not to let those moments of near madness win out. It would do no good should the Indian boy fall at his hand. The alliance between him and the Indians would be broken, and the grudge would be ten times as strong as it had been before. And Wendy… Peter shook his head weakly. He dared not imagine what the friendship between him and her would be like thereafter.
Annoyance settled in as he recalled what she had called him: a "spoiled little brat." Peter tossed his head defiantly. He was hardly spoiled – he had just always been the leader. As for being little, he chuckled to himself, for he was taller than all the children. And he most certainly was not a brat, whatever that was. He was the greatest there ever was. Wendy had no right to call him that.
He ought to banish her from the house under the ground for her treachery. A part of the boy's heart twisted at the thought, but Peter paid no attention, pretending that it would be the greatest thing he had ever done. He would show that he did not need her, that he should not get so upset over a simple girl who was tearing him to pieces. She would have to survive on her own in the forest. He would not help her return to London if she desired to. She would not go to the pirates for help, for they were enemies. The fairies, well, she had never socialized with any other than Tink. The Indians might help her, even offer a place for her to stay.
Peter's eyes widened, and he sat bolt upright. If she did stay with the Indians, then he would see her all the time… Peter's jaw tightened at this realization. No, banishing Wendy was a terrible idea.
Attempting to put the matter regarding Wendy and that boy away, he thought about going and paying a visit at the Jolly Roger. It was true he no longer got any satisfaction from those trips, and it was never Hook's face he saw before him when he fought with the captain, but he no longer wanted to think, and going off to see the pirates was the best antidote for his condition.
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The boys voiced their grudging approval as Nibs claimed the three marbles knocked out of the circle by his taw. Ever since John had taught them how to play Ring Taw – "wondrous," Slightly called it after seeing it – the Lost Boys could not get enough of this game while John and Michael developed a renewed interest in it. Currently they were in the middle of the seventh game of the day, and counting…
"Do you think father will ever be himself again?" Curly asked sorrowfully.
Slightly shrugged, "You can never tell with him," he mused. "You know how he can have such mood changes." He sighed with the others in relief when Nibs's taw failed to hit any marbles and came to a stop outside the circle.
"Has he ever been like this before?" John said as he stepped forward and examined the fifteen marbles scattered about the ring before taking up his taw and aiming.
"No, he has hardly ever been upset over anything, let alone any of us," Tootles said, gasping as John's taw knocked Slightly's taw out of the circle.
Everyone cheered, except Slightly, who unhappily forfeited one marble to the grinning John.
"You don't suppose," Michael wondered, "if he and mother had some sort of quarrel, perhaps?"
All the boys looked at him thoughtfully.
"They have always gotten along," John said, scratching his head.
"But obviously something isn't right between them," Nibs objected.
"What sort of things do parents quarrel over?" Curly asked John and Michael.
"Oh, you know, parents argue over the state of leaving your dirty clothes on the floor," Michael said.
"They can go back and forth about allowing smoking inside the house and risk causing the house to smell," John interrupted.
"They disagree over accepting or refusing an invitation to dinner," Michael went on.
"The father sometimes will accuse the mother of being too bossy while she claims he is too lazy," John piped in.
"They even are at odds when it comes to sending the children to bed or letting them stay up for a few more minutes!" Michael exclaimed.
"And then if the dog should be allowed inside or kept outside," John said softly, a faraway look in his eye.
No one spoke for a while. The only noise was the occasional sound of marble meeting marble and the scuffling of boys as they moved to take their turn.
"So how long will it be until they make up?" one of the twins asked as his brother shot and collected one marble.
"Who knows?" Curly shrugged his shoulder.
They all sighed and shook their heads as one.
"It must not be easy being a parent," Tootles said.
The others voiced their agreement, but soon wonderings regarding their dear father and mother were forgotten as the game continued.
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Wendy gazed disbelievingly up at the ceiling, not moving a finger since she first fell. She was in shock half-wondering if it had all been some weird fragment of her imagination. However, the now dirty shirt lying on the floor and her tingling lips proved her wrong. A longsuffering sigh fled her lips. She did not know what to make of Peter's unexpected behavior. One moment he was fuming at her and then the next kissing her. What a strange, difficult boy he is, she thought. She turned his words over and over again in her mind.
He said she had done something, caused him to have things which he had never known before – should not have. What "things" was he talking about? And then his rebuff of her offer for everything to be as it had been. He accused her of not wanting to have everything as it used to be. Wendy frowned. Perhaps here was a clue to solving the mystery. Peter believed she would not want to go back… Did he mean whatever she had done had changed things? But should she trouble over such things now? She was through with worrying and crying over the boy. She would no longer be concerned about him. He had made his point. What was the use in trying to reconcile if she apparently would not want to in the end? She refused to be in this tug of war anymore, where she gained ground only to fall back.
Lost in thought – and still a bit dazed – Wendy eventually slowly got to her feet and started making the evening meal.
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Something was different. The boys were instantly aware of a change in the air when they began to eat. Wendy was unusually quiet that evening, seemingly preoccupied with a slight thoughtful frown on her face. And Peter…the boys thought he was not as furious as he had been previous nights; while unrest and anger lingered on his face, there was a sense of vulnerability about him as well, a questioning fear. He watched Wendy through most of the meal, while she on her part hardly addressed him and never looked at him. The boys were simply puzzled, for it seemed father and mother had exchanged roles of who watched the other and who ignored the other. They were ill at ease concerning this new twist and exchanged between them many a puzzled look. Needless to say, they were relieved when the meal ended and they were allowed to escape above ground, leaving the strange storm which hovered over the house.
Wendy went about clearing the leftovers from the table without a glance toward Peter, who sat by the fire making with his dagger a wooden figure from a small block of wood. The heavy silence was interrupted when Nibs came down.
"Mother," he said, coming to her side where she was wiping down the table.
"Yes, Nibs?" she said, turning to him.
"There is an Indian who wants to see you," the boy explained.
It seemed the air got a tad heavier at these words.
Nibs watched as Wendy seemed to digest this information. He glanced over at Peter and noticed that he was tense, eavesdropping apparently as his head was turned slightly toward him and Wendy. Returning his gaze to Wendy, Nibs was surprised to discover she also was observing Peter. He watched, fascinated, as Peter turned his head more and met Wendy's eyes. Nibs felt suddenly like he was intruding.
"Thank you, Nibs," Wendy said, all the while holding Peter's gaze. "I'll go up right away."
A dark scowl came over Peter's face, and he turned away sharply. Slight understanding lighted Wendy's face. It quickly disappeared, and she went to her tree and above ground. Nibs closely followed, not sure what he had just witnessed, but very glad to make his escape.
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Peter stared hard into the dancing flames. He felt immense betrayal. She had gone to see him, all the while watching Peter. What kind of message was she sending? He glared down at the half-finished wooden figure in his hand before tossing it in the fire and then lowered his head as hot tears slid down his face.
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Wendy shivered in the cool night, wishing she had thought of bringing her shawl. Looking around, she noticed the boys setting up for another game of Ring Taw. The Indians, who nightly guarded the house, were there, too. She did not look around much further when her eyes alighted on Running Deer coming toward her, his dark eyes twinkling and a pleasant smile gracing his lips. This was the first time he had come here to her knowledge. And he specifically wanted to see her…now?! This thought along with the unexpected sight of Running Deer caused Wendy to flush deeply, and she unconsciously smoothed her nightgown with one hand and her hair with the other. She could only gaze at him, speechless, waiting, when he halted less than a foot from her. Silently, he offered his hand to her. For a moment, she stared blankly at it with a bit of uncertainty. She returned her gaze to his face with weary suspicion.
"Come with me," he said softly. Reassurance shined in his eyes, along with something else that pleaded for her to take his hand.
Wendy studied his hand for a moment more, then slowly placed her hand in his, meeting his eyes. She returned his smile and let him lead her away from the other Indians and the boys, who watched curiously, and into the forest.
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TBC…