A/N: Hi, this is my first peter-pan story. I am mostly known for my Phantom of the Opera stories and poems, and my POTF story. I'm excited to finally post this, as I wrote it three years ago. I am very much a peter pan fan. I have listened to the Broadway soundtrack, and seen every Peter Pan movie I know of. I've also read the book of course! As well as Peter and The Starcatchers My story is going to be based mostly off the book, as I believe Disney totally butchered it. Not to say I don't like the Disney movies… but you know. So here is the first chapter I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything affiliated with peter-pan (except my Tinkerbelle pajamas).
Margaret padded down the stairs, still dressed in her silk nightgown. The smell of blueberry pancakes immediately overtook her senses, causing her taste buds to water.
"Morning…" she sleepily greeted her grandmother.
"Good morning dear how was your rest?" Her grandmother smiled, how she loved her grandchildren.
"Horrible, he didn't come again!" she stabbed a napkin in frustration. "He'll never find us Grandma, we're not even in London anymore. He'll never find us in New York!"
"He will come, it is spring after all." Grandma Wendy stared out the window wonderingly, thoughts of that faithful night resurfacing within her.
Margaret bit down forcefully on her pancake. She was spending spring break with her grandmother in America, as her parents solved personal issues in London. She wished her grandmother hadn't moved. She missed her parents terribly she didn't like America. Plus, he would never find her hear! The only thing she liked about visiting her grandmother was the stories. Oh those wonderful stories! Captain Hook, Tinkerbelle, the lost boys, and most importantly Peter. How she longed to meet him…
"Margaret! Earth to Maggie! Pass the butter!"
Margaret was awoken from her thoughts, as she found her older sister waiting impatiently for the butter.
"Oh, sorry Tara." She dutifully passed the butter across the table. "I was just thinking…"
" About Peter? Please Margaret, next year you will be in eighth-grade. You have to start acting your age. I mean you're turning thirteen on Friday, you'll be a teenager!"
"You used to believe too, don't even try to tell me you didn't!" Margaret responded angrily.
"Well, at least I was mature enough to know when it was time to grow up!" Tara's strong words seemed to echo and resonate throughout the room.
"I will never grow up!" Margaret screamed, "Grandma, tell her he'll come!"
"Tara…"
"Wendy stop filling their ears with this pish-posh, can't you see it's not good for them?" Margaret's grandfather grumpily sat down at the table, chugging his orange juice down quickly.
"Joseph!" her grandmother looked up in alarm.
"I agree with grandpa, this is pish-posh. Wasn't it you grandma who said that he tended to forget things?" Tara smiled smugly.
" Oh shut up Tara! Maybe, I don't want to grow up because I don't want to be like you!" Margaret ran form the table, and threw herself on the sofa, weeping heavily. Tara, and Grandpa were wrong…she just knew it!
"Tara, you know how upset this makes your sister, go to your room immediately!"
Tara solemnly got up, and sulked up the stairs. Peter never came for her, so why would he come for her sister?
Margaret's grandmother sighed; the morning had started out as such a happy one, only to be ruined by her granddaughter's unfulfilled wish. She hoped Peter wouldn't forget Margaret as he had Tara.
"Joseph, you know very much what really happened you told me you believed—" Grandma Wendy stopped mid sentence as she turned to find her beloved husband sprawled on the ground.
"Joseph! Joseph!" she shook him, looking for any sort of response, but finding none. "Margaret! Tara!" She yelled panicky to her grandchildren, as her trembling fingers dialed 911.
Alarmed by the distraught sound in their grandmother's voice, Tara and Margaret arrived to the kitchen instantly.
"Girls, get into the car we're going to the hospital!" Margaret and Tara stared horrified at their grandfather, before obeying their grandmother's orders; they heard sirens in the distance.
XXXXXXXX
Six long hours later, Margaret found herself sitting with her grandfather in his hospital room. He had suffered a heart attack and they had just declared him stable. The entire Darling family was on their way to America. Even though he was stable now, the doctors had cautioned a repeat attack could be likely. As a result, it pained her to see Grandpa Joseph hooked up to so many tubes and machines. Tara had fallen asleep, and Margaret could see her Grandmother dozing off, her hand tightly entwined with his. Margaret felt herself getting sleepy, and before she knew it she had fallen into a fitful sleep, the cold night air caressing her hair, drifting slowly in through the open window.
Three hours later, Margaret slowly opened her eyes. She sensed a fourth presence within the room. Surely it had to be a nurse or doctor. However, as she looked around the small white room, her eyes widened in amazement, a gasp escaping her lips, could it be?
It could! Margaret, despite the circumstances, excitedly sat up and straightened her dress out nervously.
"Peter?"
The boy turned around, meeting her eyes with his. "Hullo, I came to see Wendy, and didn't expect to find..." His eyes looked at the floor, "I hate to see her like this."
"Me too Peter." She cursed herself for not knowing what else to say. Yet, as fast as it came any sadness he felt suddenly left him, and the twinkle returned to his eyes.
"What is your name?"
"Margaret," she smiled, he bowed.
"Do you tell stories like Wendy?"
"No, I don't" Margaret flushed crimson, embarrassed with her answer. Yes, she was the editor of her school paper and she loved writing stories, but she was a horrible storyteller.
"I liked her stories, they all had happy endings."
" I like her stories too, although most of the ones I know are all about you. I especially liked how you and your boys built a house around her when she was hurt. That was really sweet."
"Thank you," he paused before continuing, uttering the one question Margaret had longed to hear. "Would you like to come to neverland?"
"That would be lovely, Peter."
"Ok then, do you know how to fly?"
"Of course," she stated, "You need faith, trust, and pixie dust!" Margaret couldn't believe that she was actually going to fly. Fly!
"Right, pixie dust, I always forget that part. Come here Tink!" he grabbed at the little ball of golden light that had now made itself present. Tink playfully flew around the room, dodging Peter gracefully. "This isn't funny Tink! I order you to come here!" Tinkerbelle studied him for a moment, weighing her options. No, she didn't want Margaret to come to neverland, but she knew how happy it would make Peter. Reluctantly, she flew into his hand. Margaret stood in awe, as she felt the faerie dust swirl around her, lifting her slowly off the ground. She was flying! Margaret had never been happier in her entire life. Peter stopped in the window and held out his hand. Margaret slowly glided over, and then stopped as she remembered where she was. She was in a hospital, her grandfather had suffered a heart attack, and her entire family was coming to see him. She couldn't leave, what kind of granddaughter would she be? What if he died while she was gone? She would never forgive herself, that's what. The turmoil within her slowly brought her to the ground. Peter frowned, was it something he said?
"Peter, I can't go with you. I can't leave my grandfather here like this." She averted her eyes from his; "I could never live with myself if anything happened to him while I was gone." She couldn't believe she was throwing her dream away.
"But nothing will happen, he's going to be fine!" Peter tried to reassure her.
"No, Peter, I want to but I can't, you can come back can't you?" she gazed at him hopefully.
"I dunno if I can promise that, there is an awful lot happening in neverland."
Margaret sighed in defeat, " Well, then I guess this is goodbye, it was nice to meet you Peter." She shook his hand stiffly and returned to her seat by her grandfather.
"Margaret," she recognized her grandmothers voice immediately, " Go, it's what he would have wanted." Margaret was stunned into silence. How long had her grandmother been awake and listening?
"But grandmother, this morning---"
"He didn't mean any of it, I'm sure. He wants you to be happy."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," she looked up at Peter, "Peter I trust you will keep my granddaughter safe."
Peter said nothing, just stared at Wendy with longing. There had never been a day when he hadn't thought of her. Oh the adventures they could've had! Wendy gazed back equally as sad, thinking of what might have been.
"Of course, Wendy." He finally replied, holding his hand out to Margaret once more. The relief of her grandmothers blessing caused her to rise up once more. Any worries or fears she had suddenly vanished.
"Goodbye Grandmother, tell mother---"
"I will. Now, I think you've kept Peter waiting long enough." And with that Margaret placed her hand in his, adrenaline rushing through her veins. She was finally going to neverland!