19/2/08

Title: The Care and Feeding of Flying Boys

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: 24 – Limbo

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"Wendy...time to wake up dear...Wendy..."

She was floating, her body insubstantial and weightless. She could hear someone calling to her, but for a second couldn't place the pleasantly modulated female voice. Finding the effort too much, she mentally batted the voice away, preferring to sink into the grey nothing cocooning her.

"I know you're awake...come on dear, it's time to get up."

The voice was becoming insistent. Still floating, Wendy tried to turn over, to turn her back on the voice. "Go away."

"Wendy Moira Angela Darling...I will not go away. Now get yourself up and downstairs. Breakfast won't wait another minute for you."

Wendy felt her body suddenly gain weight and substance, her eyes snapping open as her mother gathered her skirts and swirled out of the bedroom, the door not quite slamming shut behind her.

Nameless terror swept over her, making her clutch at the pillow under her head, her limbs setting up a tremor that shook her from head to toe. Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to wake herself up, thinking that she was in a dream and would awaken to Neverland and Peter, even find herself laying on the ground after the battle. Had she been injured? Was she dead? Was this why she was dreaming about her mother, about home?

Slowly opening her eyes she found herself exactly as before, laying recumbent in her pink painted bed in the nursery, her brother's beds unmade and rumpled, her own warm and cozy

"No...nonono...!" releasing her desperate grip on the pillow, she drew her legs up and curled into a ball. "I shouldn't be here...why am I here?" Another thought suddenly burst into her mind like an explosion. Was the reason she was here because Peter had died? Wendy moaned and squeezed her eyes shut again. When had she seen him last, what was her last memory of him? A jumble of images raced through her head, her mind jumping from one to the other like a frog from one lilly pad to the next. None seemed to indicate that Peter was injured, let alone hurt. She tried harder, bringing up what she could recall of the battle. She could only bring up vague and insubstantial images, of black wolves and brown skinned warriors dressed in buckskins, arrows flying through the air and birds swooping in and out, screeching their war cries as they flew over the battlefield. She tried to focus on Peter, on where he was, on where she'd been, but it was hopeless, nothing but smoke and veiled images teasing at her memory.

The distant sound of her mother calling her again from downstairs brought a sob to her throat. She hadn't realized just how much she missed that sound, the timber and cadence of its familiarity making her heart ache in her chest.

"I must be going mad...I must be crazy." Wendy slowly drew herself upright and looked down at herself. She was wearing, as she would have expected, one of her pretty lawn nighties, the lace looking fresh and clean against her fair skin. Wendy frowned. Her skin didn't seem as fair as it used to be. It looked sun kissed, almost indecently tanned by the sun. Pulling at the neckline she inspected more of herself, noting how dark her arms looked, how much her body appeared to have developed in her time away. And she had been away, she knew it, she felt it, her own skin was proof. Something was stuck to her, just below her belly button, her fingers plucking off a green leaf, the small heart shaped piece of vegetation reluctant to let go of her. A flash of memory supplied an image of Peter in his green suit of leaves.

She slid out of her bed, her feet touching the floor. Looking down she almost shouted in relief and shock. Her legs were brown too, her feet positively black with dirt from running around Neverland. Still clutching the leaf she staggered over to the dresser and peered into the mirror. A stranger peered back at her. It was Wendy Darling, but not the same girl that used to live in this house, in this family. The Wendy that stared back at her had known fear and danger, had know love both of the heart and the body, the face starring back at her was that of the woman, not the girl. Raising her hand, she touched her face, marveling at the changes she could see and wondering how she was going to explain, what seemed so obvious to her, to her family.

The slam of a door somewhere else in the house made her jump, her eyes wide as she spun around. She felt like an intruder, that this wasn't where she was supposed to be. Unnerved by her own reactions, she went back to the bed and sat down heavily on the edge.

"I'm not mad then, not even crazy. I was in Neverland...I did meet Peter, we did..." she swallowed hard, pressing a hand to her abdomen. "Oh yes...we did." Suddenly she jumped up and ran to the nursery window. The glass was cold against her hand when she laid it flat against the pane. Outside was covered in frost, the bare tree looking blacker than ever, the thinner branches twinkling with ice. "Nothings changed," she breathed, her breath fogging the glass and melting a small patch of ice on the window.

The door to the nursery opened and her mother appeared once more, standing with one hand on the door knob, the other at her throat.

"Wendy. Come away from the window, you're not dressed. What is the matter with you this morning?"

Wendy whirled around then ran across the carpet and threw herself on her mother's breast, bursting into noisy sobs. Mary Darling quietly closed the door behind her and steered them both over to sit on Wendy's bed. Her daughter still clutching at her, as if unable to let go. Mary wrapped her in her arms and waited for the storm to pass.

"What is it dearest, why are you so upset?"

"I-I-shouldn't b-e here."

"Whatever do you mean? Of course you should be here."

"You-you don't understand."

"No, I don't. Here, blow your nose and tell me what's the matter." She handed Wendy a sensible sized hanky and waited for her beloved daughter to compose herself. "There now, that's better. Now start at the beginning and tell me all about it."

Mary Darling sat staring off into space for long seconds after Wendy finished speaking. In truth, the poor woman didn't have a clue how to respond to what she'd heard spilled out during the past few minutes. Blinking, she turned to face her daughter and truly looked at her. Certainly Wendy looked flushed and tearful and could be forgiven for appearing fearful, but when Mary looked beyond that there was more. Wendy did look older, as if she'd aged both physically and emotionally. It wasn't because of any lines on her child's face, it was a smooth and unblemished as always, but there was something about the eyes that told Mary that Wendy was telling the truth.

"If I accept everything you've told me...then why are you back here now?"

To her consternation, Wendy burst into tears again and wailed. "I don't know!"

Pulling her back into her arms, Mary made shushing noises and other nonsense to sooth Wendy, all the time trying to understand what was happening. The door to the nursery cracked open and her husband, George, poked his head around.

"What's up love? The boys are wanting to get dressed." His gaze took in Wendy's head buried against her mother's shoulder and his expression twisted to one of sympathy. "Problems?"

"Nothing we can't sort out George. Tell the boys to go see Liza, there'll be something from yesterday's laundry they can wear, and the kitchen is warmer."

"All right old girl...you can fill me in later about..." he indicated them both with his hand, "...all this." Then he shut the door as quietly as he'd opened it.

Mary waited a second then pushed Wendy upright and mopped her face again.

"Alright Wendy...do try to calm down and let's see if we can't sort all this out. I'll try to understand and believe you, but you must understand that as far as I'm aware, you haven't gone anywhere..." she held her hand up when Wendy made to protest. "I do realize that you've said that time seems to pass differently in this Neverland?" She waited for Wendy to nod that she had the place name right. "Alright then... but according to you, you've been gone days and days...all in the space of one night."

"Look at me mother..." Wendy held the neckline of her nighty to one side. "I'm positively brown as a berry in places, as if I've been to Africa or somewhere hot. Look at my feet and legs...you'd think I'd been playing in a mud pool I'm so dirty. And this..." Wendy held up the green leaf, "...you won't be able to identify this plant, I can promise you."

Wendy drew in a breath to give her last piece of evidence, her coup-de-grace. "And if you have me examined you'll find that I'm not a virgin anymore."

"Wendy!"

"Oh please believe me. I wouldn't...couldn't make this up..."

"Well you do make up all those stories for your brothers, and you've filled journal after journal with your imaginings."

"I know, I know...but this is so much more than those pale attempts...I tasted it, felt it, drank it...there is no possible way this was all just a dream or a nightmare or simple fantasy."

"As you say...a simple examination would put that possibility to rest, which, I might add, I'm not doing. I'll take your word on that for the time being. Oh Wendy...my darling girl...what are we to do? The consequences...oh my dearest."

In despair at having no answer to that question, Wendy fell back onto her bed covers and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. "I honestly don't know."

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Princess Tiger Lily kicked impatiently at the ground, marring the smooth perfection of her best moccasins. She had been chivvied away from the returning war party and secluded in one of the women's tents to be cleaned up and made presentable. Her hair now gleamed, braided and beaded while her body had been bathed and scented. She itched to be freed from the encumbrance of her station and left alone from the constant primping of her waiting women.

"How much longer?"

"Not long Princess...if you would only sit still."

Scowling ferociously, Tiger Lily wriggled on the stool and stared mutinously at the wall of the tepee, wishing herself outside with Jack.

The Indian camp was ablaze with torches, the golden light making everything almost as light as day. Jack watched as the entire camp made ready for an enormous victory feast, or so he supposed. He didn't feel very much like celebrating nor, he suspected did the Lost Boys. He'd gone to check on Peter and Wendy, finding them just as he'd left them, both laying as if dead, or deeply asleep, now jointly bathed and clothed in ceremonial robes, Jack not sure whether for a wedding or a funeral.

A young Indian girl approached where Jack sat, her figure slim and willowy, her hair unusually short but braided with feathers in the place of plaits.

"Hello Jack,"

Jack looked up, frowning when he didn't recognize the girl. She stood staring at him. "Don't recognize me, do you?"

"Sorry. Should I?" She did look familiar, but between the feathers and decorative face paint, he couldn't place her.

"It's me...Harry...or to use my full name, Harriet."

Jack felt his mouth fall open but couldn't prevent it. "Harry? But you're...but...why?"

"Why did I pretend to be a Lost Boy?" Harry tilted her head to one side and rested a hand on her hip in such an age old feminine attitude that Jack had to laugh. "Why do you think, Jack?"

"Yeah. I can imagine the prospect of playing mother to our rabble would have been less than appealing."

"I left a life of a scullery maid Jack...I slept in ashes to keep warm, and was given the meanest of tasks. I wasn't about to go back to that. When Peter found me I was running away, I'd stolen some clothes and cut off my hair. He accepted I was a boy, so I stayed a boy."

"And now you're a girl. Do the others know?"

"They will soon enough. They will look to you for leadership while Peter is gone, so if you accept me, they will."

He saw the doubt in Harry's eyes and knew his answer. "Of course I accept you Harry...er..Harriet. You're a remarkably pretty girl...for a Lost Boy." He gave her a wink and laughed when she blushed.

"Thank you Jack. I can see the others coming over, so don't say a word, I want to see their reactions." Harry gave Jack a saucy grin then turned to face her approaching former play mates.

The boys had been given the once over and been scrubbed, much to their disgust if their scowls were anything to go by. Tophat had managed to retain his head gear, although that too had be brushed and made far more presentable than usual, and Grub had a clean face for the first time ever. All of them had on clean clothes and smoothed down hair, Crate the first to ruffle his in defiance.

"Hate being clean, hateithateithateit!"

"Aw come on Crate...you look so...scrubbed," Jack laughed, earning himself a look of such loathing he only laughed louder. The others grinned along with him, pushing each other about, messing up each other's hair or tugging at clothes to make them less tidy. Stretch glanced at the Indian girl standing at Jack's side, his eyes raking up and down her figure, his mouth quirking into an appreciative smile that froze when his perusal rose to her face. One quirked eyebrow from Harry, and Stretch let out a shout, the others staring at the lanky boy in surprise.

"Whatcha shouting at?" Squid grumbled, tugging at his shirt. Stretch raised a remarkably clean finger and pointed at Harry.

"It's...it's...it's..."

"Yeah, it's a girl...what? You've never seen a girl before?" Crate snapped, scratching at his cheek.

"No...it's...it's..."

"Oh come on Stretch...anyone would think this was the first time you'd seen...a...girl..." Tophat's teasing tailed off as he gave the girl a long, hard look. "Oh my gawd...Harry!?"

"Why's Harry wearing girls clothing?" Grub asked, looking to Crate for an answer. "Are we playing dress up?"

"Harry...what the..." Crate stared at the former Lost Boy in shock. "When did you become a bleedin' girl?"

Harriet rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her slight bosom. "I was always a girl Crate...you just never noticed."

"You never wos'!" Squid gasped, "but you fought and ran and climbed and...and...every fing!"

"Of course...just because I'm a girl, doesn't mean I'm not able to do just as much as you all do." Harry gave them a smug smile and tossed her head. Jack had to admire her, she had been remarkably brave, or incredibly foolish to hide her sex, but in the end that didn't change the fact that Harry, or Harriet had been as brave and courageous as any of the Lost Boys.

"I think you make a very nice girl...or boy Harry," Jack said warmly, wondering, as he suspected the boys were too, if he'd been particularly harsh to Harry, or done anything mean to her in the past, thinking her a boy. But of course, that was why she'd performed the gender switch, to avoid being treated like a girl and being relegated to the restrictions imposed by both her own sex and his. Smart girl.

"Does Peter know?" Crate asked, sitting down beside Jack. "Has he always known?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, "he never treated me differently from you guys...not that I could tell, anyway."

Jack thought back over the many campaigns they'd fought against the Pirates and wondered if Peter hadn't known all along, Harry often placed in a position of least risk, as look out or back up, the importance of the post never down played or belittled. "I always thought he had a soft spot for you Harry...because you were not as strong as the others."

"If he did, he never told."

"Explains why you never completely stripped off...not even to bathe," Stretch remarked, the others nodding in remembrance.

"Thought you were just shy, or something," Squid added. "Never thought you was a girl."

"Well I was...and I am..." Harry suddenly relaxed her defensive posture and bit her lip. "You won't start treating me differently...I mean, I can still hunt and fish and track and all that stuff, nothings really changed."

"Not 'alf it has. You're a bloomin' girl now. Can't have girls messing things up..." Crate snorted, rather rashly in Jack's view.

"I like Harry just the way she is," Grub announced, sidling up to her and taking her hand. "Can I sit on your lap?"

Harry cast Crate a mutinous look and Jack suspected the whole issue of girls in the Lost Boy's gang would be revisited again soon. Stretch seemed unable to tear his eyes away, staring at Harriet as if she'd grown an extra head. Squid kept shooting Harry glances from the corner of his eyes as if she was a bomb about to explode. Tophat was gazing at Harry in a way that Jack could only describe as adoringly, the poor lad apparently quite smitten with his former friend and troop member.

Rat was the only one not to voice an opinion, sitting himself down on the other side of Jack and looking gloomy.

"What's up Rat?" Jack asked in an aside, jostling the younger boy who glanced up at him accusingly.

"Why did he have to go and change into a girl...what's wrong with being a boy?"

Jack had to control the laugh threatening to break out. "I don't think Harry wanted to stay a boy forever Rat. Eventually she would have had to make the change, so now is as good a time as any."

"But why? She was great as Harry...now she's a girl and I won't be able to talk to her or nuffin."

"You could try Rat...it's still Harry...as he's...she's always been."

"Nah...now she's a girl, she'll be wanting to hold hands with boys and kiss and stuff. She won't want to talk to me."

Jack leant down and whispered. "I think that once things have settled down, you'll find Harry is just the same as before. It just means she might want to wear a dress every now and then, that's all."

Rat seemed to think it over, glancing at Harry then back at Jack. "Ya think?"

"Sure."

Jack watched as the boys tried not to stare at their former comrade in arms, Grub, the youngest, sitting happily in Harry's lap as he often did before, the other boys coming to terms with the new dynamics of their group. With the addition of Wendy, things were never going to be the same as before, and Jack had things he wanted to do outside the group as well. Just thinking about those things seemed to conjure Princess Tiger Lily out of thin air, the beautiful Indian girl walking towards him as if out of a dream.

Jack swallowed hard and rose to his feet, the Lost Boys and Harry forgotten. Lily seemed to sway towards him, her lithe body encased in a figure hugging tunic whose fringing and beading swayed with her. If he'd been asked he would have said she seemed to move in slow motion, her dark eyes fixed on his, her tempting mouth curved in a welcoming smile. Unbidden he walked towards her, his heart thudding loudly in his chest.

They met some way from where the Lost Boys still sat, Jack gazing at her with appreciation.

"You look beautiful." He breathed, unable to break the smile stretching his mouth.

"Only beautiful?" Lily retorted, preening under his gaze, her eye positively luminous.

"Just beautiful."

"Thank you Jack...you look..." she frowned at him, "you look the same. Why haven't you gone and cleaned up?"

"Huh...oh...well, what's the point? Peter and Wendy are comatose, and there's nothing we can do until one or the other wakes up. And talking about that, what's the story with your father? Is he Talagumpa or Walbassa...what is going on with him?"

Tiger Lily sighed. "I know you have a lot of questions, I do too...but right now we have a victory to celebrate and you need to get changed." She reached out to finger his black shirt. "This has seen better days Jack...and I think it's time you shed that name."

Jack opened his eyes wide, hooking his thumbs to point to his chest, indicating himself. "You don't like my name now? I'm not called Black Jack just because I wear black."

"Never thought you were," Lily swept her lashes down and up in a deliberately provocative manner. "But you have to admit, without the black attire, you'd be more like an ordinary boy."

Jack almost spluttered in indignation. "Ordinary? You think I'm ordinary?"

With his black eyes snapping fire, and his hair tossed out of his face by an angry flick of his head, Tiger Lily had to say that Jack was anything but ordinary, as far as she was concerned. But she was hardly likely to tell him that and inflate his ego.

"You could be quite handsome in the right clothes and a bath. If you're especially nice I might even volunteer to wash your back..." She fluttered her lashes again, seeing a glazed look steal over his face as a mental image imposed itself in his minds eye. Men really were so predictable.

"Bath?" Jack repeated, snapping back to reality. "I suppose there's no reason I can't do that...if it pleases you Princess?"

Careful not to give in to the urge to grin her triumph at his easy capitulation, Lily took his hand and started to lead him away from the Lost Boys and towards the bath tent. Her women were waiting for her to bring him, then she'd leave him to their tender mercies. He really was rather sweet, the prospect of seeing him out of his perpetual black and in something more handsome made her tug him along faster.

Jack found himself propelled into a tent, the interior full of steam and fragrant smells. Tiger Lily gave him a final shove, sending him into the giggling arms of her waiting women. Before he could protest, she was gone, his clothes soon stripped from his body and his modesty flung to the four winds. It would seem he was having a bath.

In his tent, Chief Talagumpa sat on his favorite stool covered in furs, his hand still wrapped around his staff of office, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped. He was exhausted, but at the same time satisfied that all had been done in accordance with the ritual. It now remained to be seen if the girl would make the ultimate sacrifice and return to them. Her earthly body was laying beside Peter in the tepee, but he knew that her spiritual body was back in her world, back with her family, back where her heart still clung to the past. Only when she embraced wholeheartedly her choice for the future would she awaken once more and take her place as Queen of Neverland. He hoped it would be soon, his strength largely expended, his time to move on moving inexorably closer with each passing minute. His daughter would be in safe hands with Jack, and Peter was more than ready to assume the mantle of King of Neverland, his long apprenticeship as Prince due to end and his new tenure of King ready to start once his Queen returned to her heart and mind.

Until then, they had a victory to celebrate and a feast to enjoy. He felt a presence and glanced tiredly off to the side, the ghostly outline of Walbassa hovering a few feet away.

"Ah Brother...has she made the transition?"

"Not yet Brother. She is confused, the strength of her dreamworld making it difficult for her to understand that she needs to say goodbye."

"Will she do so?"

"Indeed. You only need to hold on until the dawn, then you can let go and join me for a well earned rest."

Talagumpa chuckled. "I'm looking forward to that. What is Hook up to?"

"Gone back to his ship and is currently drinking his rum supplies dry, along with his crew. James Hook won't be bothering anyone for some little time to come. The wolves, too, have returned to their dens and their pups. All have returned the balance to its natural order." Walbassa sighed gustily, "it was a very great battle, but I think they all did very well. Your daughter did you great honor today."

"She did, my Lily...I leave her in Jack's hands, I think the boy will prove more than a match for her."

"I always thought so. Never did like turning him against Peter like that."

"It was necessary. The lad needed a diversion, and we needed time. Without Jack to fight against, the balance would have eventually tipped in Hook's direction, an outcome to be avoided."

"True. Now, all it settled..." Walbassa smiled.

"Apart from the girl...nothing can be done if she chooses to stay in Limbo." Talagumpa frowned.

"She won't. Her dreams are pleasant but not what she really wants. Not long now, and it will all come to pass as I predicted."

"As you say Brother."

Walbassa's image started to shimmer and fade. "I'll meet you at the bridge to help you cross over...don't keep me waiting too long..."

"Soon...very soon." Talagumpa let his head droop once his brother was gone, the tepee very gloomy without Walbassa's glowing presence. He looked forward to his own time spent watching over the island without the troubles of his corporeal body.

Wendy stood at the window of the nursery and stared out with eyes that saw lush tropical jungle, not the blackened branches of the tree outside. Hands settled on her shoulders and she twisted her head around to stare up into her mother's concerned face.

"I can feel the wind on my face and taste the breeze on my tongue."

"You're cold dear...why not come away from the window and closer to the fire."

"I'm not cold...really I'm not." Wendy turned away and resumed her vigil by the frosty panes of glass.

Mary Darling sighed and dropped a kiss on her daughters head before turning away herself, her skirts whispering across the carpet as she checked on her sleeping boys. It had been days and still Wendy clung to her delusions, her fantasy making her forget to eat, or drink, or even step outside for some fresh air. Neither Mary or her husband could persuade her to move from the nursery, Wendy ignoring the worried glances of her brothers and parents, her view turned inwards to the images she carried of Neverland and Peter and everything she'd seen and done. Dark circles were starting to ring her eyes, her hair losing it's gloss and her nighty starting to hang more loosely with each passing day.

Wendy remained where she was, unblinking until a bright speck of light flickered outside the window, darting back and forth as if looking for a way in. It never drew close enough for her to make out if it was a firefly or a fairy, but it was enough to jolt Wendy out of her self imposed vigil and send her to the writing desk to pull out paper and pen.

An hour later she folded the letter and propped it on the mantle piece. She had reached a decision, made her goodbyes and now knew where she truly wanted to be. She walked slowly about the nursery, touching the toys of her youth, brushing a hand over the heads of her brothers in farewell before opening the window, letting in a cold blast of frigid air.

She never felt it, her bare toes not shrinking from the hard frozen stone of the window ledge, her face already tilted to the stars.

"I'm coming Peter...I'm coming home."

Drawing in a deep breath and closing her eyes, Wendy stepped off the ledge.

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...to be continued.