Disclaimer: Peter Pan, all characters, places, and related terms belong to J.M. Barrie, and Universal Pictures, Columbia Pictures, and Revolution Studios.
Author's Note: Well, I watched Peter Pan last night and got inspired! This is a based on the '03 movie. It takes place between the scene at the Black Castle and the Indian village. I hope you all enjoy this!
Dedicated: To Harvest x Moon.
Something There
"There are absolutely none…," Wendy murmurs to herself in dissatisfaction as she searches a pile of clutter on the table in the house under the ground.
Sitting on his bed, Peter tracks her search. Now that her attention is not on him for the moment, a grimace of pain settles over his face momentarily.
"You really need a bandage for your wound," Wendy speaks this time to Peter as she attempts to search the house quickly.
"I do not need it," he protests stubbornly. "We never bandaged our wounds; it is a sign of weakness." His eyes light up with an air of cocky pride. "And we will be late to the Indian village," he whines.
"I'm sure the boys will not think you weak, Peter." Wendy sighs as she sits herself down next to him, a wet rag in one hand and a piece of bark with some salve (provided by dear Tootles) in the other. "I am sure we will not be late to the village," she adds patiently.
She frowns as she peers at the ugly red scar that runs down Peter's chest. It does not look deep, but it is a painful scratch all the same. She shudders as she recalls his groan of pain as the hook left its mark.
"I've had worse scrapes," Peter says, noticing her shudder. He is thrown off balance a bit, though, when she quickly glances up at him with a concerned look in her eyes. No one has shown concern for him before. The Lost Boys only view him with respect and awe; Peter never lets them see him in pain, if possible, and would tell them it was nothing to worry about if they did. Wendy is the first person to…not take his "no" for the final word. He simply blinks at the girl.
"At least let me clean it so it will not become infected!" she insists.
Peter leans against the dirt wall and, strangely, does not offer protest. Wendy brushes the vines crisscrossing his chest to the sides to see the wound better, her fingertips lightly touching his skin. The boy gasps softly in surprise at the unexpected contact. Misinterpreting his gasp as one of pain, Wendy quietly apologizes as she looks his wound over. A wave of nervousness suddenly comes over her at what she is about to do.
What would Mother think if she knew I am about to tend to a strange boy's wound? A faint blush rises in her cheeks.
After studying the wound (and gathering her courage) for a long moment, she first cleans it with a wet rag. A thoughtful frown darkens her face as she works carefully.
The mix of the cold water and her warm breath dancing over Peter's skin causes him to shiver. Tilting his head to one side, he tries to peer into Wendy's face, but dark waves of hair screen her face from his view. His gaze drops to her hands.
Setting the rag aside, the girl carefully begins applying the salve to the scar. She almost jolts, startled, when Peter pushes the hair resting against her left cheek behind her ear. His fingers linger on her face for a moment before withdrawing. Her concentration broken, Wendy wills her hands not to shake, very keenly aware of the boy's stare.
Finally, her task is complete, and the girl sighs in relief as she gives Peter's wound a last, inspecting glance. "All done," she announces. She makes to stand to clean her hand messy from the salve, but a firm tugging on the sleeve of her white nightgown restrains her. Turning her head around, she faces Peter. He holds part of her sleeve between his thumb and finger. His head tilted slightly, he gazes at her face with a curious, and almost puzzled expression, his eyes searching. He leans toward her, their faces very close now. Her heartbeat quickening, Wendy holds his gaze, waiting.
He breaks the long silence first. "Wendy," he starts slowly.
"Father, Mother!" Slightly cries as he tumbles into the house.
The girl leaps away from the boy and hurries to the basin of water to clean up, her cheeks a fair red hue. The boy is left holding only empty air and feels uncharitable towards Slightly for interrupting.
"What is it?" he snaps, his eyes fastened on Wendy who purposefully has her back to him.
Quickly jumping to his feet, Slightly looks about and locates Father, appearing slightly annoyed, sitting on his bed while Mother, blushing, is cleaning her hands. They wait for his news. "We shall be late!" he proclaims.
"Oh, dear!" Wendy exclaims, hurrying. "'Tis my fault…"
"We shall be right up," Peter tells Slightly, rising and bringing the rag to Wendy.
Slightly nods and immediately heads above ground.
When Wendy finishes washing the rag and her hands, she discovers Peter observing her. She is surprised when he gives her a smile that contains shyness and…something else she cannot give a name to, completely unlike the teasing, cocky smiles he gave her before. His eyes are soft pools of blue.
"Wendy…," he repeats. Looking almost embarrassed, he finishes, "…Thank you."
"You're welcome," she replies softly, returning his smile. "Thank you for rescuing John and Michael."
Peter's smile turns into a cocky grin, and he places his hands on his hips. "Oh, the cleverness of me!" he says in answer.
The moment lost, Wendy laughs in surprise and follows him above ground.
THE END