Thanks Panskiss for the info! May switch this one to M soon, you're totally right. On with Chapter 8!
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Peter and the lost boys were quite pleased with themselves. They were returning home victorious with several pheasant type birds, and a Never-sloth (which tasted a lot better than it sounded).
The break from being so caught up in Wendy was unwelcome, but he was convinced now that touching her wasn't as distracting as Hook had implied. He had the bounty to prove it.
He couldn't wait to show his quarry to Wendy. He loved it when she doted on his prowess as a hunter. It made him feel like… well, like a man. Peter stopped in his tracks. A man. He'd thought the thought before; that Wendy made him feel like this. But he passed over it, like it was a natural state of being. A man… The lost boys crashed into him.
"What's the matter Peter?" asked Slightly. They all quietly gathered around Peter, completely frozen.
"Yeah, do you hear Indians?" asked Curly
"Did you see a pirate?" questioned the twins in unison.
"Or perhaps you've perceived a bear lurking in the trees," stated John.
"Or did you see a bear?" asked Michael hugging himself at the thought. John looked down at his brother and rolled his eyes.
"No, it's nothing men. I thought… maybe we should… bring home some fruit for your mother! You know how she likes the prickly pears." Peter congratulated himself on thinking up such a quick fib.
"I hate fruit," whispered Tootles under his breath, ornery after walking for so long.
"Well, Wendy doesn't!" said Peter. "Now go find some!"
The boys raced off quickly, hoping to find some big bushes and trees ready for harvesting so they could fill some sacks, and fill their bellies at the same time. Hunting was hard work, and they couldn't wait until breakfast any longer.
As soon as they were gone, Peter put his eyes to the ground. He had to think this through. John stopped when he caught a glimpse of Peter's knitted eyebrows.
"Is anything the matter Commander?" asked John. Peter looked up at him, startled.
"No. Everything is fine John." He turned away, hoping that would end the conversation, but John was not so easily put off.
"Excuse me sir, but as I've come into a role here as a tactical advisor of sorts in our missions, I've learned to read your expressions quite well. You seem to be displaying concern over some matter, and I feel it is my duty to help you sort it out. Is it in regard to our upcoming adventure with the Indians?"
Peter looked at John for a moment. He might as well tell someone. And John was so smart. Maybe he could help him sort this manhood business. It was going to drive him crazy.
"No, it's not about the Indians." He paused. "It's about growing up."
John stared at him, waiting for him to continue.
"It's, I… How I feel about your sister, is making me… grow up I think." Peter put his head in his hands.
"I see," said John caught off guard. He wasn't surprised by Peter's feelings, but he was taken aback that he was opening up to him about them. He felt a change in their friendship was about to take place.
Peter paced back and forth now.
"I like being around your sister," he said. "I like…" he stopped and looked at John shyly. "I like… touching her."
John raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Peter resumed his pacing.
"I like it a LOT, but I swore NEVER to grow up." He stopped again. "Never."
John opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when Peter's eyes narrowed at the ground.
"I swore to never grow up and to always have fun, but being Wendy's husband, and your father… Well, I've never had so much fun in my life." Peter now walked up to John with a pleading look in his eye. "Is it fun to grow up John? Do you know? I don't know anymore. I used to know everything." Peter's eyes began to tear up. "I'm scared."
John was feeling most uncomfortable now. His brave commander crying? Pushing through his urge to run, John determined his feet to the ground. Peter was his friend now and he had sworn allegiance to him. He had to help him somehow. It was his duty.
"It seems to me that we have quite a dilemma on our hands." Peter nodded and sniffed, trying to hold in his embarrassing display.
"Well sir, I can tell you this. I like being a little boy. I like adventures, not having responsibilities. I like living here not having a bed time, and not caring if my hair is brushed. But I still want to grow up."
Peter looked up surprised into John's face. "You do?"
"I would like very much to grow up."
"But to have a family to take care of, and work in a bank office and wear suits! I won't do it, I won't!"
"I don't want to work in an office. I don't intend to either," said John, wiping off his glasses.
"What else is there?" asked Peter.
"Well, I'm fascinated by the world around me. I'd like to know more about it. Maybe do some field research. I've already taken some samples of the flora and fauna on the island. I'd like to take them home with me one day and study them."
Peter's eyes widened. "Field? Like outside?" he asked.
"Precisely. Or maybe consult for the army. I've gotten quite a taste for battle tactics since I've been here." John puffed up with pride remembering the plan he'd come up with to rescue some of the boys in a game with the Indians. "The world is changing Peter. I have more options now than I would have years ago when you were born. I don't have to be a barrister or join the church nor do what my parents want me to do. I can choose anything I'd like."
Peter stood there contemplating this new knowledge.
"And besides sir, you do have a family that you take care of. And you've done a fine job so far." John saluted.
This seemed to be just what the doctor ordered. Peter flew up into the air a little and let out a crow. "You're right John. The cleverness of me, keeping you all alive!" He beamed.
John felt much better. This was the Peter Pan he wanted to follow. He couldn't take the sulky version. But there was one more thing he felt he had to say, and he mustered all his courage to do it. "Now sir, about Wendy."
Peter floated back to earth.
"Just what are your intentions with her?"
"Intentions?" Peter asked.
"As her closest living relative on the island, it is my duty to ask. Do you intend to marry her?"
"Marry?" Peter looked repulsed. Maybe he was more comfortable with the idea of growing up, but something's still remained out of his grasp of acclimating to.
"Well, in our game, you are married to her. I'm not sure I see much of a difference in being truly married and married in a game. Well, besides marital relations I suppose."
Peter balked. "I don't want any relations hanging around. No relations or cousins or aunts or uncles!"
"Not relations of a familial nature," said John, catching onto the confusion. "Marital relations; Sex."
"Sex," he repeated. Just saying the word sounded forbidden. He had a feeling he already knew something of it. The way Wendy wiggled against him in his bed, and the way his hips wanted to thrust forward when this happened. The stiffening in his nethers... It must be what John was talking about. Here was his answer to the question plaguing him that morning.
"Yes. Do you know what I'm referring to?" asked John.
Peter nodded his head, "Of course I do!" he said, not wanting to sound completely ignorant. "But why don't you explain it to me anyway, to see if it's the same sex that I know about."
John rolled his eyes a little, but began to talk about the birds and the bees. (Literally, for that was where he'd learned about it; from text books about mating animals. But he had come to realize that the information transferred to humans easily enough.).
Just when he was getting to the part Peter was most anxious to hear about, the lost boys came bounding back in to the clearing. Sacks full of fruit, were slung over their shoulders.
Peter groaned in annoyance at being interrupted again. Oh well, they would finish the discussion later. He was beyond famished and wanted to see Wendy again. The boys marched on ahead of him, ready to be home. He trailed behind them a little, lost in his thoughts. Maybe he could chase the lost boys out of the house while the meat was cooking, and then he and Wendy…
John grabbed his arm. "Just so you know Peter, I love my sister, and feel that if anything is done to hurt her, as her brother, I would have to do something about it." They were brave words for John, and he had to muster up every ounce of bravado to say them but knew they must be said. He braced for Peter's inevitable reaction.
Peter normally would not have taken kindly to that sort of challenge. But based on the bonding they had just done through their conversation, and the empathy with which he was now learning not to ignore, he let it go. He looked John square in the face and said resolutely, "I would never hurt her."
John took a step back, his shoulders puffing. "Thank you commander."
They followed the lost boys home. When they arrived, they began to call for Wendy.
"Wendy! Were home!"
"We're hungry!" cried Tootles and Michael.
"Mother, where are you?"
The fire in the hearth had burnt down to embers.
"She must be at the stream boys," said Peter. "I'll go get her, you start plucking those birds."
He left and sauntered down to the stream, whistling a little. When he reached the water's edge he looked around confused. There was a pot, left abandoned in the dust. He then noticed the footprints, and the scrapes and ruts in the earth from a struggle. Indians.
The Indians had Wendy. He crowed with annoyance. They were supposed to play this game later, days from now. Just like them to try to get the upper hand by starting it early. Well, no use now, he would crudely cook for the boys, and then they would set about a plan to rescue Wendy. This could be fun! Yes, they would eat, he would rescue Wendy, he would pull John aside to finish their conversation, and Wendy would sleep in his bed again that night. He smiled a little at the thought.
"Simple as that," he said.