Okay, next chapter and thanks for the reviews guys. Anyone know what happened to Ilovetoread 38 and Kidsinlotsoftrouble?

Indeed he was Dorryen, but isn't it said that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken (or until the fairy juice runs out)


Peter hovered outside Wendy's window like a spectre, a barley real reminder of his vitality and life. He glowed gold; specks of fairy dust dripping off him as though someone was constantly pouring the sap of life over him in a desperate attempt to keep him alive. Wendy was struck by a impression that he was almost flickering between present and the past, like a flickering image caught on one of the new motion-picture cameras.

Her first instinct was the slam the window shut, to run away and never enter the room again. Peter was dead. Yes, he'd died before and returned but this was different; Peter wasn't Pan anymore, he didn't have the powers here that he had done in Neverland. He could be no more than a spectre, a memory that had come back to haunt her dreams.

She didn't slam the window though, and instead looked at him once more. His face was pitted with hundreds of tiny scars, and, as he reached out his arm towards her she noted that too had once been torn in the same way. He floated downwards, till he was facing her at the window ledge.

"May I come in Wendy?" he said, his voice lower than before and tinged with sorrow. She nodded breathlessly and stood back to let him drift into the room, seeming propelled by the eddies of wind that marked his passage. She noticed how his shoulder seemed about to collide with the wall and then it passed through it. He didn't notice.

He sat himself down on her bed and smiled at her in a confused way. She sat herself down next to him, noticing how his weight barely troubled the bed strings at all, a slight dint marking where he sat. He smiled at her once more and then began to speak, his voice still deep and tinged with some odd ethereal quality.

"Wendy," He said, "Wendy, I feel," he paused again, as though trying to find the right words for something unutterable. Pain shined in golden eyed. "I feel, odd. Like I'm not really here and yet so much more alive than I've been before."

Wendy nodded and let him continue,"

"I can't really feel anything, and yet I can feel the whole universe in every nerve. I can feel the starlight on my back for the first time in years. I can't even see myself Wendy; I can just see a glow of gold when I hold up my hand to my face."He did this now, putting a pitted hand up against the light. For a moment Wendy thought she could see right through it, and then he solidified again. She stayed quiet and just nodded, understanding that all she could do right now was listen.

Peter had paused for a moment and then started speaking once more, "Wendy, dear, what happened to me? Everything seems fuzzy in my mind, like too much has happened for it to accurately record the events. I can remember leaving Oxford, and then the war breaking out and signing up down at Welling draft agency and then my memories a blank, other than a few isolated incidents." His eyes welled up again, confusion reigning like fire through them.

"What incidents Peter?" Wendy asked, fearful of provoking unhappy memories.

"I can remember my first night in the trenches," He said, "the squalor and the mud and the terrible smell of thousands of decomposing bodies." He saw the shocked look on her face, "It was no place for a lady and I am saddened that I have to tell you about it. Then I remeamber when my best friend, Perkins, copped it. He was a good man, a very solid chap who went to my Oxford college. When we joined up I was appointed captain and he was my Major, but he copped a snipers bullet when he ran our the try and pull back a private of ours who'd lost his leg to a mine. Both of them died. And then," He paused now, the strain of recollection causing his forehead to furrow, "and then I remember receiving your letter. It was so different to anything else there, like a shining light on the hill, and then." He paused again. "And then."

"Yes Peter?" Wendy pressed, certain that the answer for his return must lie at the end of the memory.

"And then," Peter stammered, "Nothing but darkness and hellfire till I found myself outside your window. What happened to me Wendy? What made me like this?"

Wendy knew that there nothing now but to approach the truth head on. "Peter," She said slowly, wondering quite how to tell the glowing boy about his passing, "Peter, you where killed in Flanders. A shell, apparently. We heard this morning."

Peter looked at her softly and nodded, smiling softly with a sudden understand. "Oh yes," He said, "I did, didn't I. But then, why am I here?"

"I don't know Peter." She said, smiling at the look of pleasure on his face. He seemed strangely pleased that he was dead, that the confusion and horror was over once more. She could almost imagine him as Kurtz slowly passing away, finally satisfied with life.

"Then," He said, "We'll have to find out. I think that the answers will be in Neverland. That's where this all began, where I died the first time and it's where all the angels must go in the end." He smiled at her and then floated towards the window, Wendy following slowly behind.

He stood in the window frame, his glow outlined against the dark brick of the bell-tower. The golden boy, both more and less than she'd ever imagined. The cheer was back, the cheek and the wit which had deserted him during the long years in Eton and Oxford. He smiled at her and extended a hand.

"Come with me Wendy, let's go to Neverland again, let's see the mermaids once more." He grinned at her, his smile almost forcing her legs to move on their own accord. She clasped his hand and he pulled her onto the ledge, balancing dangerously 3 stories up. "But first," He said, smiling at her.

"But first what Peter?" She asked, breathlessly trying to control her vertigo.

"But first this," and then with a smile he kissed her, a tender clash of teeth and flesh. It was not a great kiss, indeed Peter was now so unreal that Wendy could barely taste his paper-thin lips, but it was still there first since childhood and for that reason it would stick in her mind until she was an old woman.

And then, like a pair of doves on their first flight, they disappeared into the deepening night.


There we go, and we have some bizarre form of romance. Woo. The next cahpters a bit darker than this, but still we're drawing towards the finalie. Hope your all enjoying it

Please, r/r

BrooklynRed x