For all the centuries that pass over the garden only minute changes seem to affect it, as if time can not wither or fructify it. It just exists, weed clogged and, in this present century, boasting a small vegetable patch, much to the owners delight and hard work. One such gardener looked up sharply from her needle point and eyes the garden through the narrow window.
"My bloody turnips," she grumbled and her younger sister sighed and as one they rose and entered the garden through the kitchen. A flash of blinding green light was accompanied by driving winds that made the trailing roses flutter, giving off a sweet scent, and the willow whipped angrily as the portal suddenly threw out three people into the sisters' garden. Feet trampled the vegetable patch and there was an audible disapproving cluck of a tongue before the visors straightened.
"Help us!" a young man in glasses yelled desperately. A girl was in his arms and the sisters drew closer, drawn by the sickly pallor of her face and the rattle of her breathing. They touched her forehead, throat and hands as the brothers watched them in anxious silence.
"Bring her in, quick," the eldest sister said and they followed them into a rustic but neat kitchen. Herbs and drying flowers hung from pegs and shelves were crammed with spices and oats but the brothers paid them no mind. John laid Wendy down onto a table and stood back as the sisters crowded around her. She was drifting in and out of consciousness but for a moment her feverish eyes opened and she stared up at the women attending to her and gave a weak smile.
"The Spinning Sisters…" she whispered and then fainted, slumping down.
"You know us?" Edith asked, throwing her question at the brothers and they nodded vigorously.
"In the future, yes," Michael explained and Agnes narrowed her eyes at them for a moment and then nodded in understanding.
"Yes, we've seen you. Glasses and teddy bear keychains," she muttered but then all her attention fell back to Wendy. "What malady affects her?"
"We don't know! We rescued her from Neverland and then she started raving and collapsed," John said, ringing his hands as he watched his sister started to shake on the table. Michael closed his eyes but then forced himself to look. At the mention of Neverland the sisters caught each other's eye and some silent communication passed between them, something troubled and confused. Finally Edith brushed her fingers down Wendy's arm and froze at what she found. Veins of poison were spreading from a bloom of blackness marring the skin of her forearm. Both sisters tutted in unison as the brothers crowded around the table to look at the infection, shock plastered on their faces.
"What is it?"
"Dreamshade."
"Nasty stuff," Edith finished and then glared at the men. "You need to take her back at once."
"What?!" They shouted in unison, appalled.
"If you don't she'll die. The island has healing properties, which I would assume was keeping her alive. You should not have taken her," they finished together and Michael rounded on them angrily.
"It was you that sent me off on this journey! You knew this would happen so you must have seen another way to save her!"
At this pronouncement both sisters looked abashed and surprised. They bent their heads together and talked quickly, arguing before Wendy suddenly began to stir. She muttered, barely distinguishable, but the sisters lowered their ears to her face to listen.
"Water…water," she said in a croaky, tiny voice and both women sprang up.
"Of course! Of thank the gods that boy brought some back with him or she'd be done for! Quick, Agnes, go find it," Edith shooed her younger sister who ran from the room and left the brothers to stare in bewilderment. Edith gazed at them, half pleased, half reproachful.
"You don't know what you do but you're very lucky. You almost killed her with kindness."
"We were trying to save her, she's our sister," John stressed as Agnes suddenly appeared out of breath. She was carrying a small sack and they could hear water sloshing inside. With bated breath they watched as Wendy was lifted upright and the water was poured into her mouth. At first she choked on it but with some coaxing she began to swallow. As they watched the black veins webbing her skin began to retreat until only a faint cobweb of poison was visible. Breathing more easily Wendy rested back as Agnes placed a shawl under her head. The brothers gripped their sister's hands, watching the colour fading back into her face with matching smiles of wonder tinged relief.
"Thank you, we don't know what to say," Michael breathed as John brushed Wendy's matted hair away from her now peaceful face.
"Don't thank us yet. We only have a tiny amount of that water," Edith said grimly.
"And even if we had a lake full it would not cure her. I'm afraid there is only two paths for this young woman now: back to the island, where or whenever that may be."
"Or get yourself a cure."
"But be warned," Agnes said as the men's faces lit up with determination. "To procure such a thing comes with a hefty price; a most terrible curse."
"We'll pay it gladly," John said without preamble and Michael nodded. The seers gazed on them and sighed.
"We can see how much you love your sister, Wendy was it? But do not act so rashly. If you did find the cure and give it to her I'm afraid neither of you would live long enough to celebrate."
John and Michael stared at each other grimly. They had vowed to save her but more than that; they were meant to protect her. They could not do that if they died and left Wendy vulnerable to Pan's clutches again. They would have to find another way.
"The water then, we will get as much as we possibly can," Michael stated resolutely, drawing himself up to his full height, which was not much. The sisters shrugged.
"As you wish…but I think it would be prudent to wait until the girl in question is awake. I think her input is important yes?"
"…Of course," John said with a smile but it was more like a grimace. Now that the girl was no longer knocking at death's door they eyed the brothers thoughtfully. The tall one was scratched while the older one was covered in drying blood.
"Well then, it appears that you two have been through the wars to save your sister. Commendable isn't it Edith?"
"Oh yes! There's nothing stronger than the love shared between siblings," she said and something sad settled into both of their eyes. So suddenly caught up with wistful remembrance that they did not see the look of unease that passed between the brothers or the wary way in which they glanced at their sister. The sisters motioned for them to sit by the wall as they bustled around the kitchen to prepare ointments and other strange potions to nurse the brothers' injuries. They sat by Wendy's side throughout the night, like a vigil.
The last time Wendy had suddenly left Neverland she had been beset with a deep sense of exhaustion. Her mind and body existed in a state of stagnation, pushed and pulled by magic, but still unnaturally tempered so that when her body was suddenly pushed into the flow of linear time everything that had been kept at bay suddenly floods through her. When it had happened before she had spent months in Neverland, now it was after almost half a century.
Am I dead?
The thought puffed through her mind like smoke, only there long enough for her to consider it before it was gone. Her body felt incredibly heavy but the dead do not have bodies and they certainly don't ache. The dull pain was deep, pulsing out from her bones that suddenly remembered that it had some more growing to do and as she shifted a groan burst from her mouth and her eyes sprang open. Her eyes swept across the unfamiliar room but then froze when she saw a man sleeping in a rocking chair beside her. It was the man in glasses, one of the men who had kidnapped her or, as they put it, rescued.
My brother? Jack? No…John.
The uncomfortable pain that was throbbing through every limb faded to a dull ache as she stared at him. She could not remember what her brothers looked like, certainly could not envision what they would be like once adults because even as children she only had the barest memory of them. She scrutinised his face, the wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose and tried desperately to pull something familiar from him but it was in vain. The scratch she had given him stood raw and stark against his white cheek and she found it hard to look away or ignore the pang of guilt she felt.
"Wendy?" a quiet voice said to her left and turned her stiff neck slowly. Michael was gazing down at her with a soft smile and Wendy gave him the same open scrutinisation she had given John. His face was now clean of blood but a long shallow cut was visible across his forehead, now stitched up. The pang of guilt turned into something lacerating.
"Does…does it hurt?"
"No," he said and waved a hand dismissively, still smiling. "I've had worse," his light gaze turned heavy with restrained feeling and his eyes grew wet. "Do you know who I am Wendy?"
She hesitated before speaking. "I'm – I'm sorry," she shook her head sadly, "I feel that I should but – but you can't be Michael. He was the youngest."
"And now I am the eldest, by appearance at least," he sighed, eyes flicking to John before focusing on Wendy again. "I travelled from 1945 back to 1927. There I picked up John…and Nana," he added and his voice caught a little. Wendy wondered briefly what Peer would do with the dog – he did not like them for some reason - but the thought made her stomach squirm.
"But why go back?"
"Because…" Michael trailed off, looking uncertain but Wendy wanted the truth, needed it. "Because I found myself surviving a war but having no one to return back for. John…John died at the start of the war, in battle and it was too much. I…I said enough," he whispered and she could see the absolute torment and misery in his eyes and her heart lurched. "Mother and father, you disappearing, Aunt M and then John? No, it was too cruel and too many."
"So you went back for John?"
"Yes. We vowed to rescue you together and by god I wasn't going to break that promise. I may be damned for interfering with time but so be it. I will not rest until the job is done."
At this harsh promise Wendy stiffened. "You said, you both said that you wanted to kill Peter," she watched his face warily, too tired for fright or anger. Michael did not speak for a long time, just stared at her intensely before speaking gently.
"I do not know what you have endured Wendy. I do not know what you have been through or what he has done to you but know that I don't blame you for anything," he motioned to his injury and Wendy felt tears prickling her eyes. Finally she was starting to believe.
"I'm okay. I – I won't pretend that my time there went peacefully or without heartache but I survived. I – I have Peter," she explained softly and something icy flashed in his eyes but then it was replaced with a knowing look of compassion. He leaned down, careful not to be heard and shook his head.
"Peter had you Wendy. Ownership, object, nothing else."
"No," she whispered fiercely, shaking her head and tried to sit up but she was too weak. Instead she speared him with a steely look. "I am no object and no one owns me. I know you will not understand but…but I love him, I always have. I tried to fight it but it's the truth."
Once she knew such a confession would have been said with the utmost shame and self disgust but now she watched for his reaction with a sense of guarded anticipation, expecting harsh words but he surprised her.
"I do understand," he said patiently but there was something haunted in his gaze, almost shell shocked. "I understand the lengths a person will go to in order to survive. I understand being imprisoned, I understand the desire to grasp or create what little autonomy and freedom you can. I know that feeling where one day all your anger, all your fight and determination to resist takes a subtle shift and that hate and disgust transforms. Soon even the slightest bit of kindness seems to save your soul. Soon that person who stepped into the prison is no more than an old dream and the bars like that on a bird cage. Hate can turn to love because sometimes it is the only way to survive." He tapped on his forearm, where he has his own mark on his skin.
During this speech Wendy shifted through an array of emotions; denial, resentment, understanding, pity and finally shame. Once she had stepped onto Neverland with such steadfast ideals, her resolve to resist Peter and fight against him so strong and it was that determination that helped her escape. But so much had changed since then, so much that Michael did not know but his words had a ring of truth. She had stepped into a prison only for it to turn into a bird cage, enough room to fly and sing but still a cage. Wendy reached over and took his hand.
"I was taken there against my will and my choices have been…limited. Once I wanted nothing more than to leave, to deny him. I love him but I don't love what he does. Do you understand?"
"Yes. It's always better to love than hate but never forget Wendy that the people who take away our freedom never love us, not really."
She wanted to argue, to deny him but again he seemed to have pulled up the naked truth of her situation. Her freedom had always been leashed and Peter had always been the one holding it. But she believed in her heart that she was loved in return, even if it was not what she truly wanted. She was loved.
"Michael…don't pity me for the life I've had. That girl that was taken from you is gone. I – I made myself forget you, forget my parents and the pain of losing you all and it's not something I can take back. I'm not the sister you remember and it appears for ill," she hovered her fingers over the cut she had inflicted and he smiled weakly.
"And it is plain as day I am not the little brother you once knew."
"Are formal introductions to be made?" John asked suddenly, startling them. They had not noticed when he woke but he had been listening quietly, stemming his need to voice his thoughts. She had forgotten them, forgotten the death of their parents but such a luxury had been denied to him and Michael. There was not a day that went by that he was not haunted by the ghosts of his past but to voice such grievances was not right, not now. Instead he got to his feet and bowed to Wendy, introducing himself, and for the first time in years he watched his sister smile again.
Once Wendy found herself alone in a small but comfortable room she allowed herself to cry. Her brothers were loath to have her out of their sight but she had insisted. The seers had disappeared for a time but returned and ushered them all to separate rooms. They were all exhausted. Like the house she had once visited their house seemed to hold more rooms then was possible.
Too weak to stop herself she let the emotions wash over her, emotions that seemed to alternate between joy and grief. She was reunited with her family, something that she had only dreamed about and over time even that had faded from her. It was that forgetting that caused her stomach to knot and her chest to heave because it was only now that she realised how much she had lost. So much of the girl who had lived in Bloomsbury Square Gardens was gone and that was a strange sadness all of its own. Now that her connection to Neverland was severed those old longings for home had returned with a savage need.
But she missed Peter and her mind turned to him constantly, wondering how he was and how much damage he had inflicted at the loss of her. It made her shudder, the violence and cruelty that he would likely inflict because he had no other way to express his worry and loss of control. She prayed that the boys were safe and that the sky had not cracked open.
"And Nana, poor Nana…" at this she burst into fresh sobs, her stomach painfully tight with sadness. But she could not bear to think any harm had come to her old dog and instead forced herself to be more positive. She had to return, she could not stay where she was any longer. Her life depended on it.
But John and Michael…she had not envisioned the complete and utter love that had spread through her when she accepted them for whom they were and with it came a frightening need to protect them at all costs. Peter would not harm his boys; no he would focus all his anger at her brothers. He would capture them, punish them for taking her and then bring her back to the island. He would do it; she was sure, but only over her dead body.
No harm will come to them; she would make sure of that. Wendy, still weak and aching, rose from the pallet and went to the window. She had been taken back hundreds of years, she had overheard the sisters talking about the death of Guy Fawkes at the start of the year. Outside the land was dark but she could just make out fields and woods across the lane and somewhere close by a river gurgled. If she had not been told it was London she would have thought she was in the countryside. Suddenly it fully hit her; she was no longer in Neverland. For the first time in almost fifty years another world was outside, one strange but oddly familiar. It was frightening but thrilling. Wendy looked down at her arm, at the poison that was being held at bay, and felt strangely invigorated. She had almost died and her life was not out of danger yet but she was breathing.
Curious, she walked slowly and quietly from the room, her legs shaking but not buckling under her weight. She unlocked the door and stepped out into the night, inhaling deeply. The air was fresh and crisp and so very alive. It was so different from Neverland, where even the winds had a familiar caress. The grass crunched under her feet, dew covered and soft, and released that intoxicating smell with every step. Wendy inhaled greedily, staring up at the now unfamiliar stars when someone spoke up behind her.
"Thank god."
Wendy spun around but lost her balance. She was quickly caught by strong hands and she looked up at Felix. The sight of him was so unexpected, so strange that she wondered if she was dreaming. The overwhelming relief on his face was almost enough to convince her.
"Is it really you?"
"Yes. Are you all right? I thought I might have been too late," he confessed, clearly anxious and Wendy was touched but equally confused by his concern.
"I'm all right, for now. They had some of the water from the island," she explained and Felix nodded.
"Here's some more. Keep it close," He pushed the flask into her hands as Wendy stared wide eyed at him. Once, a long time ago now, the sisters had warned her to keep the water close and it was only now that she realised what they were referring to. She laughed and Felix gave her a strange look before he tugged on her arm.
"Come on."
"Where?" She pulled back, odd humour fading. Felix cocked his head with impatience.
"You know where. If anything happens to you he'll have my head, do you get that?" he spoke through his teeth and Wendy was shocked to see just how nervous he was.
"Peter wouldn't harm you, you're his friend."
"A friend who made this happen," he said and reached for her arm. The poisoned veins looked longer and her stomach dropped. "If you died it would be my fault, that's the way Peter sees it and, as I'm fond of breathing, I have to get you back before he completely loses it."
"But my brothers -"
"Will be dealt with," he replied darkly, pulling on her again but at these words her eyes flashed viciously and she pushed him away from her.
"Don't you dare! No harm will come to them and if you try -"
"Me?" he interrupted with a strange laugh. "We both know Peter will eviscerate them when he has them in his sights," he said and his mouth curled a little at the prospect. He grabbed Wendy again and this time dragged her after him. Wendy was weak and could hardly struggle but she could still shout.
"LET GO OF ME!" she screamed as Felix picked her up and was about to sling her over his shoulder when something unexpected happened. Felix turned, hearing a noise, but before he had time to react someone punched him hard in the face. The force of it knocked both Wendy and Felix to the ground. Gasping in shock Wendy looked up at the assailant and felt her mind skip a beat but then relief and love waved through her as her rescuer crouched and stared at her in concern.
"Peter!" she cried and kissed him hard on the mouth, flinging her arms around his neck. She felt him stiffen against her, unresponsive but just before he pulled away she felt him kiss her back. He gazed at her with a frown and a strange, almost shy smile was on his lips. His face was pleasantly flushed as he tilted his head quizzically.
"Do I know you?"
a.n:
dundunduuu!