Opening Closed Windows

Summary: He was living an awfully big adventure, but perhaps for the wrong reasons. He grew up for them, and they had closed the window on him. Feelings he doesn’t want to know are raging trough his body and all he wants to do is find a way to open all the windows that have been closed right in front of his nose. Little does he know that a lot more windows will open. Some of which he had wished would stay shut forever.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Peter Pan and do not have the intent to make any money out of these stories. Peter Pan and everything related belongs to J.M. Barry, I just write fan fiction.

Authors Note: This is a fan fiction. I’m trying to stick to the original characters, but do keep in mind that age changes them, so there will be differences. Please don’t shoot me for it…



Inleiding: Hij leefde het grootste avondtuur ooit, maar misschien wel om de verkeerde redenen. Hij was voor hen opgegroeid, en zij hadden het raam voor zijn neus gesloten. Gevoelens die hij niet wilde kennen raasden door zijn lichaan en het enige wat hij wilde doen, was een manier vinden om de ramen die voor zijn neus waren gesloten weet te openen. Helaas weet hij niet dat wanneer er één raam geopend word, een heleboel anderen zullen volgen. En sommige had hij liever voor altijd gesloten gehouden...

Disclaimer: Peter Pan is niet van mij en ik heb niet de intentie om geld te verdienen aan deze verhalen. Peter Pan en alles daaraan gerelateerd zijn het eigendom van J.M Barrie. Ik schrijf enkel fan fictie.

Mededeling van de Auteur: Dit is een fan fictie. Ik probeer mij aan de orginele karakters te houden, maar doordat ze ouder zijn geworden, zullen er verschillen zijn.



Inhoudsopgave:

• Prologue; Looking trough a keyhole.
• Chapter 1: Awakening dreams.

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

Everything had changed after she had left Neverland. His Wendy had left hem. And not only had she left him, she took everything that had ever meant anything to him. Although he would never admit it out loud of course. He preferred to think that he had left them in fact. That made everything a lot easier. But then again, why did he made the choice to come here?

There he stood, at the foot of the Big Ben, looking up at a place that never before had seemed so daunting before. To live was an awfully big adventure, but still Peter Pan wasn’t sure that it was worth all the trouble. Rain fell down on his small form relentlessly and within minutes he was soaked. To live was an awfully big pain in the ass at times. Peter combed through his hair while sighing in frustration and for a moment closed his eyes.

He had kept his promise to Wendy. He had come back for her, every year again. But she did not seem to remember him. They had all forgotten him, just like his mother had when he had left. The only difference was that there wasn’t another boy in his bed. He never had a bed in the Darling-house. He had given them a place in his house and they had closed the window on him!

Peter’s hands clenched into fists and he sunk to the ground. He wrapped his arms around his knees and hid his head against them. His shoulders shook with grief and a sob crossed his lips before he could stop it. The rain had chilled him to the bone, but he didn’t seem to notice it anymore. Rain was mixed with tears but Peter couldn’t seem to stop the stream of tears rolling down his cheeks and disappearing in his pants.

There he was, seventeen years old, not yet realizing what it meant to grow up but, already considered to be nearly mature. At the best of times Peter felt like he was looking trough a keyhole, trying to figure out what life was all about. Up till now it felt like a stone lying on his stomach. It was a heavy, yet hollow feeling that he couldn’t seem to rid himself from.

Peters hiccupping breath slowed down and as he found himself being able to breath normally again, only then he noticed that the rain had stopped. His face was tearstained but as the boy with the brown hair stood, noting in his appearance showed any weakness. His eyes where twinkling and an arrogant smirk was plainly visible on his face. It was very apparent that Peter Pan had just made a very important decision. He was looking so happy with himself that anyone who might knew him expected him to crow like a rooster.

The teenager refrained from that which might have surprised the Lost Boys, had they still been with their fearsome leader. But they had not seen him for nearly six years now and all of them had started to grow up rather fast. It wouldn’t take look before they could not remember anything about Neverland. Not the Indians, not the Mermaids and not even the Pirates, whom they had fought on countless occasions and nearly always defeated!

That was the reason Peter decided that the time had come to shake the Lost Boys awake. To open the closed nursery window and make them remember Neverland. To make them remember him! He had only chosen this because everything was different without them, he didn’t do it for anybody else. That was what Peter told himself, but perhaps that was his biggest pretend yet.

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

“No, please! Wendy! Don’t!” Soft cries came from a small bed, on which Peter Pan was sleeping. Of course the teenager would never admin that he could dream, let alone say that he was having a nightmare. Sweat had formed on the boy’s brow as he tossed and turned in his bed. He was still uttering soft pleas, directed at someone only he could see.
“Wendy! Please! No, don’t!” Peter kick of the blankets in his sleep and turned around. In his sleep, the horrors didn’t stop. The teenager drew a sharp breath and shot up. “Don’t leave me Wendy!”

The words were screamed loudly and echoed through the park. Peter had made himself a little room, inside an hollow oak. So that no one would find him when he didn’t want to be found. Now that he increasingly had more bad dreams, he fled to the oak tree more than ever.

Peter combed threw his hair and wiped away the sweat on his forehead. His breath slowed down and Peter looked up, at a small opening in the tree. From where he was sitting, he could see the stars clearly. He sighed and wrapped his arms around his knees. One of those stars light up bright orange. It was over within a second and Peter blinked at the stars.
If given the chance, he would return to Neverland. No doubt about it. He missed the Indians and every magical corner. Even though the Lost Boys were not there anymore, he missed it. He was torn between this world and Neverland.

The world where Wendy lived and the one place he could never return to…



“I’m not going to bed,” said John. Which startled Mrs. Darling. Children are never ready for bed, but John was a teenager, surely he should’ve grown over such behavior. “I’m not going to bed,” said John again. So ferociously, that his mother knew he was very frightened.
“You have been dreaming again, haven’t you?” She said tenderly. “That must be horrible.”

John scrubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. “I told you. I never dream! Why can’t you believe me mother?”
Mrs. Darling gently touched John’s cheek and went to turn down the bedclothes. And there, in John’s bed, something bulged up through the covers. It wasn’t a book or a hot water bottle. Mrs. Darling folded down the sheets. It was a cutlass.

With a sigh, she hung it on the hoot behind the door, right next to a full set of arrows. Both her and her husband liked to pretend it wasn’t happening, because that is what adults do. But the both knew what was happening. John was dreaming of Neverland again. And not only John, but all her children were.

Night after night and dream after dream. Mrs. Darling found leftover from their dreams every morning. A sword there, a bow here, a medicine bottle, a top hat…
The night on of the boys had dreamt of mermaids, the boys bedroom had smelled like fish all day.
Something was terribly wrong…

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

Ik herken hierin de stijl van dat rode peter pan boek, je hebt het goed opgevangen want ik zou bijna het verschil niet weten O.o Heb je meer?

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~ If life is like a rivier, mine must have a great big dam in it, ~

Alle drie de peter pan boeken zijn ook mijn bronnen he Dus ik lees ze door, stukjes die ik leuk vind gebruik ik gewoon in andere context (fluit) Het stuk waar John niet naar bed wil, die word ook gebruikt in het rode boek, maar dan met zijn vrouw... De rest is officiele mirry-talk Maar nog niet meer, ik schrijf er nog druk aan...

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

They only one who seemed to be free of the dreams about Neverland, was Wendy. Mrs. Darling had never found any momentums from Neverland in her room. She slept like she had no worries whatsoever. In her room they never found axes, bows or even got a whiff of the smell of fish.

She never talked about Neverland either. Some of the boy’s would mention something that had happened while there where there. But never Wendy. It almost seemed like she didn’t even remember Neverland and all its inhabitants. Tinkerbell, Captain Hook, Smee and even Peter Pan seemed to be forgotten over the years.

She now had her own room. Being a teenager she needed a bit more privacy. Something she couldn’t get while sleeping in the same room as her brothers. So she had moved to the room right next to it. Normally her room was very neat and tidy. Wendy liked to keep a clean ship, as she put it. Tonight however everything seemed out of order.

Her window was open, the curtain moving violently in the wind. Her dresser drawer was slightly askew and clothes were sticking out. Toys Wendy had not touched in many years were scattered on the floor. They were supposed to be in boxes underneath Wendy’s bed, but they had been moved while Wendy tossed and turned in her bet. Yet another anomaly.

Her hands lay on the pillow, just above her head and her eyes were shut tightly. She moved her head from side to side, her lips quivering but not quite forming words. All of the sudden Wendy jerked up her knee en flung her arm to the side. By doing this, she was now lying on her side. Her arm stretched and her fingers flexing as though she was reaching out for something.

“Please. Stop. You’re hurting me. Please.” The soft plead was uttered as another gush of wind trashed trough the bedroom. A drop of rain landed on Wendy’s face and her eyes fluttered open. As her blue eyes opened, something also landed on her index finger. It wasn’t cold, like the water in her face had been and certainly heavier.

The blonde teenager looked at her hand and her eyes grew twice as big. She seemed utterly lost for words and just stared at the little figure sitting on her finger. The little thing had her petite legs crossed and looked at Wendy with a self-confident smirk. The teenager could hardly believe what, or rather whom she was looking at and just gawked at the small fairy on her index finger.

Slowly Wendy got up and sat at the edge of her bed, still staring at the very familiar sight on her finger. She couldn’t make a sound though. She was terrified to find out it was all a dream. That this was just a figment of her imagination changing into a full blown hallucination. Not only that, but she was utterly lost for words. Not something that happened to Wendy Darling often. She found herself to be rather gifted with words and hoped to be a world known author when she grew up.

At long last Wendy whispered almost inaudible: “Tinkerbell?”

Luckily the fairy’s ears worked perfectly and she grinned at Wendy, placing her little hands on her knees and leaning forward. She didn’t make a sound at all, but as the teenage girl opened her mouth to say something Tinkerbell brought one finger to her lips and a ‘shhhh’ was audible. That was the proof Wendy needed that she wasn’t dreaming and she lowered her hand. “I don’t believe it.”

Ever since her return to London Neverland seemed to be just a good dream. Sure, they had kept the window to the nursery opened but neither of them had ever seen Peter again. Even though he had promised to return for her stories. He’d probably gotten himself into a brand new adventure and had forgotten all about the Lost Boys. Forgotten all about her. But if he really had done that, why was Tinkerbell here?

“Did Peter send you here Tink?” Wendy didn’t mean to ask it, but the words had slipped from her mouth before she could stop it. She had pretended that Neverland didn’t exist for years. She wanted to forget all about it, as Neverland seemed to have forgotten her to. But now she saw Tinkerbell again, hope flared up. Almost paralyzing her.

Because of that same hope, Wendy could feel her stomach sink with great speed as she watched the fairy shake her little head. A sad look had appeared on her face and Wendy lifted her hand back up to her face. She had to ask but wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. Not hearing from Peter was a huge disappointment. Who knew why Tinkerbell was here. She and Wendy had never gotten along. What if this was just another trick, just like the ones she had played on Wendy when she was in Neverland?

She asked her question all the same. It wasn’t like they could hurt her anymore than they already had. “Then why are you here Tinkerbell?”

The fairy stood and looked straight at Wendy. She still had a sad look on her face, but she put her hand in her armpits and made a crowing motion. After that she covered her eyes and turned her back to Wendy. She stayed motionless for just ten seconds and the whirled around, pointing at Wendy in an accusing way and flapped with her hands. After that she crossed her small arms and looked at the billowing curtain.

For a moment all Wendy could do was stare at the fairy. “You haven’t seen Peter since I left?”
Her voice sounded incredulous and Tink looked at Wendy, still wearing that heartbroken shimmering on her face. “Why did you wait so long to find me?”

A hard look appeared on Tinkbells face, making Wendy wanting to pull back her hand. Whenever the fairy got that look, it had always meant something bad. The teenager kept her hand where it was however and waited for Tink to explain. She didn’t need to wait very long. The fairy nodded once, put her hand under her armpits again and made a crowing motion. After that she turned around and walked to the very tips of Wendy’s fingers, taking the jump. She landed on Wendy’s knee and motion a door closing, making a very real looking lock that had closed.

Wendy stared at the lock and it took her about five seconds to realize that the fairy wasn’t done with her story just yet. She produced a curtain of fairy dust and punched a hole through it. Making al lot of things Wendy had only seen in Neverland sliding trough the hole. Wendy kept looking at the dust until it had disappeared again.

It felt like a stone had just settled itself in Wendy’ stomach and all she could do –yet again- was stare at Tinkerbell. When she did manage to find the words, her voice sounded hoarse and she really didn’t want to know the answer to her question at all. “Peter left and Neverland locked itself. But now a hole is torn between our two reality’s, making it possible for you to come trough?”

Tinkerbell nodded and Wendy had to ask the next question. Dread was forming in her entire body and she knew that whatever was following next, it wouldn’t be good. “Where did Peter go?”
The faire motioned towards Wendy, clutching one hand over her heart and making a very dramatic, swooning motion with the other. Wendy sucked in air between her teeth and shook her head. “I never saw Peter after I left. Not once.”

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

Chapter 2: Beyond your imagination.

It was early, much too early for Peter at any rate. But here he was, sitting at the breakfast table eyeing his foster mother with suspicion. She was looking at him with something that could only be described as worry. Was she worrying about him? Or just trying to figure out how to get rid of him as fast as possible?

He had been in her house for nearly six years now, but he still expected her to change her mind en just chuck him out. He didn’t trust her and mostly just steered clear of her. She had learned fairly fast that Peter was not like most other boys. He didn’t want to be cuddled, hugged of comforted. He was perfectly fine just sitting with his own sorrows en nightmares. It had been a very long time since she had looked at him in the way she was doing now. Peter was startled by the obvious sorrow in her voice when she asked: “Did you get any sleep last night Peter? You look horrible.”

Peter didn’t answer her. She knew very well that he didn’t sleep much last night. In the start, when he had just started living with her she was awoken every night by his screams. It had terrified her and he Peter realized it. It took her a month to learn that Peter didn’t want to talk about his dreams. He didn’t want to talk about his past. He didn’t want a new mother, nor did he need someone he could trust. He told her that once, he told her that twice and after a while she understood.

She didn’t hear him screaming anymore. Not because he had stopped dreaming and by doing that stopped screaming. She just didn’t hear him anymore. He never slept in the house anymore. It just gave him awkward looks and even more awkward conversations. The kind that are just strained, knowing that the other person really wants to ask something else but is afraid to do so.

So Peter just shrugged. “I slept just fine Mrs. Wainright. There is no need to worry about me.”

And she looked at him as though he had just taken out a knife and had cut of one of his fingers just to check if he had any blood left. She knew that he wasn’t doing alright. She was just too smart to say anything about it. Even in her house Peters temper was infamous. Bianca Wainright knew not to ask Peter what he was dreaming, where he was sleeping and where he came from.

She was a very intelligent woman. With her plain brown hair and her brown eyes she looked just like every other woman. It was het smartness in her tone that made her stand out from any other. The widow was smart en empathic, two things Peter could do without. It made him remember the two women in his life that had betrayed him. It made him want to curl up into a little ball and cry.

Not something he would ever say out loud. He still thought that his mother hadn’t abandoned him, he just refused to be forced into the jacket she had pictured for him and he had escaped. As for Wendy. She just wasn’t made for Neverland. She had been a girl after all, a member of the weak sex. She had never belonged to Neverland to start with. He had banished her and by doing that he had banished himself to. Not that it mattered, London was a far better place since he was back. He still was as marvelous as he had been whilst being the uncrowned king of Neverland.

“Peter.” Bianca Wainright leaned over the table en placed her hand over that of the teenage boy. He pointedly pulled his hand back and made it disappear under the table. “Please promise me that you’ll go to school today. The headmaster send me a letter again. You haven’t been to school in nearly a month. School is important for you future. You need to at least learn how to write.

I don’t know where you came from and I don’t need to know. Just know that I am trying to help you Peter. Even though you don’t trust me.”

The seventeen year old boy didn’t deny that he did not trust the woman who had taken him in. Had given him clothes to wear and the food of her table. He didn’t deny it because it was the truth. He could not afford to put his trust in one person and get stabbed in the heart yet again.

So he managed a smile. The left side of his lips curled upward and a challenging smile appeared in his brown eyes. Bianca knew that smile and could guess the words that were going to follow it. “Would you believe me if I’d say that I’m going to try to get to school today?”

The look on his face was almost angelic en Bianca laughed. Her hand touched Peters cheek softly, like a mother would. The boy fought the urge to close his eyes and press his cheek against her hand. His just sat, rooted in his chair. Completely unmoving and Mrs. Wainright said: “I will always believe you Peter. Trying is the word that makes everybody get up in the morning.”

As those words were said, Peter leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. A devilish grin spread on his face. Bianca didn’t see it, she had started to clear the table. She only heard the boy murmur: “Everything I could tell you would be beyond your imagination. You would never believe me.”

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

Chapter 3; Charming old friend.

Wendy sat in silence as the rest of her class chattered away. It was the last class for the day, but Wendy did not care much for knitting. She was perfectly capable of knitting small squares to make a plaid. It was harder to actually concentrate on the work while there were so many thoughts racing through her head. She didn’t even listing to the newest gossip Susan was telling and that was saying something.

Susan Bowler always had the juiciest gossip. She knew who was dating, who had broken up and could name every scandal for the past ten years. Normally Wendy would be listening to what she had to say, but now she couldn’t get Tinkerbell of her mind. The two of them had a long talk and it seemed that Tink had gotten easier as the years had passed. Of course she hadn’t aged at all, she looked just as perfect as she had nine years ago. Her temper didn’t flare up so violently anymore and she didn’t shot so much profanities at Wendy anymore. But it could be that she had turned it down a bit because she needed Wendy’s help. Insulting her wouldn’t help Tinkerbells cause at all and maybe she knew that to.

Tinkerbell had told everything that had happened since Wendy had left. It had shocked the teenager beyond believe to hear that Peter had seemed so los without the Lost Boys. Without her…
She still remembered him as the headstrong, fearsomely brave boy that would never grow up. The boy that loved adventures so much that he could forget everything else. The boy who could never care about her the way she wished, because it was just too hard for him to trust her.

It broke her heart to know that he hadn’t done what she expected him to do.

The brunette slowly shook her head and looked up from her knitting. Only to be faced with her entire class looking at her. Obviously she had missed something rather important, or something about her person. Otherwise everybody would not be looking at her like she had just found the goose that could lay gold eggs. Her eyes grew big and she looked at some of the girls of her class. They weren’t looking like she had a disease, so it couldn’t be that bad. Her voice still sounded apprehensive as she asked: “Is there something wrong?”

Susan smiled at Wendy with the courtesy of a panther watching dinner walk closer and closer. She had something and was about to share it. The black haired girl waited for a moment and leaned forward in her chair as she asked: “Didn’t you hear it yet Wendy?”
She smiled and blinked her sweet blue eyes at Wendy and the rest of the classroom held their breath. Wendy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and asked: “Exactly what haven’t I heard yet Susan?”

“Christian is planning to ask you to Mr. and Mrs. Alabaster’s Halloween ball. He Phillip who told Mary, who told in turn told me. We all thought you’d know by now.” A mean look appeared on Susan’s face, it was appalling to see her enjoy Wendy’s ignorance. “Apparently we were wrong.”
“Apparently you were,” Wendy answered frostily.

It was not that she needed the warning that Christian was going to ask her out. It was just that she detested the fact that it was told by no other than Susan Bowler. Christian on the other hand she could never detest. The very handsome boy that attended the St. Helena School for pristine young men. Probably one of the few boys she wouldn’t refuse if he ever would ask her out. His reputation was spotless, as was his face. His behavior was always as society expected and he would never leave her alone. The fact remained however that he had not asked her yet. Her classmates would not get any gossip from her. Not this time and if you could help it, not ever.

~*~
Michael stared at the brick building at which Wendy went to school at. He needed to wait for her to leave it, before he could go home. John and he went to St. Helena’s, but today John wanted to stay longer to study in the library. Michael however was considered too young to walk home on his own. It was ludicrous! He was eleven now! Nearly a man! And yet he listened to his mother and did not walk home alone. He waited for his sister, like the good little brother he was raised to be.

He linked his hands behind his back and wiggled his toes. No one could see that of course, but he still liked to wiggle his toes like they could. What he really minded about the entire situation was not that they underestimated his maturity but waiting in the cold. And cold it was! It was windy and looked like it could start raining any moment from now. Michael shivered and hid his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. He hoped that Wendy wasn’t chattering with some brainless bimbo and graced him with her presence really fast. He wanted to get home, drink hot coco, hug Nana and maybe, just maybe he would do his homework.

All of the sudden, a new shadow loomed over Michael. He was pretty sure that it wasn’t a particular heavy cloud because it had the shape of a person. Normally people wouldn’t stand so close to another person, it wasn’t polite. Michael was seriously contemplating to turn around and ask the man to take a bit more care and don’t stand so close to another human being. As he started to turn however a shiny silver hook was placed on his shoulder en the young boy froze in his tracks.

His eyes locked on the hook and all of the sudden he was three years old again, lying on a cloud and looking at a ship. Long Tom was directed at him and he could hear pirates shouting. The Jolly Roger. The ship belonged to a pirate with the most horrible reputation. A man with violet blue eyes that shimmered with death. And at seldom when the man would cry, his tears were bright red and deadly within seconds. It were those thoughts that prevented Michael from whirling around and looking at the person attached to the hook.

“Do excuse me little boy,” a voice steamrollered trough Michael’s thoughts and the boy’s body spurred into movement. He whirled around and looked at the owner of the positively charming voice. He already knew who it was, but it didn’t prevent him from turning. He stared at the black haired man with his violet blue eyes. The hook still lay on the eleven year old boy’ shoulder and all color disappeared from his face. His hands started shaking and his eyes grew big.

This wasn’t a dream. He wouldn’t wake up and find a hat underneath his blankets nor a gun, or even a cannonball. Michael was in fact wide away and staring straight in the face of the one person he feared the most. “HOOK!”
The words where more shouted that something other and Michael stepped back. He could feel the silver hook scraping over his coat and it made his skin crawl. He didn’t stop moving however, but turned around and ran. He just ran towards Wendy’ school en didn’t stop until he was hidden behind the door.

Jas Hook was still standing on the same spot he had been when talking to Michael however. He quirked an eyebrow as he casually looked at the big oak doors behind which the little boy had disappeared. Behind Captain Hook stood his first commander and trusty; Smee. The round man had white hair and sparkling eyes. He seemed more like a friendly bookkeeper then a fearsome pirate. And while Smee might not look like a pirate, he was one. A very cowardly one that is.

“Well Smee, that was a marvelous surprise. I’d started to fear that I had lost my touch and could not scare people out of their panties anymore.” Jas Hook spoke with a casual nonchalance and smiled pleasantly. Smee grinned. “You did a lot more than scare him out of his panties Captain. I think the child wet himself of fear.”

“I hope he did,” the pirate murmured and turned around to face Smee. “I do believe we have to journey on Smee. This must be the place where Peter Pan is hiding and I cannot stop looking for him until I have found him. The little arrogant brat couldn’t possibly believe that he could outsmart me, Captain Jas Hook! No he cannot! And now that the door is open I will find him and finish him for once and for all!”

The pirate stood on the edge of a dark chuckle, but contained himself. This was not the time to laugh at the boy’s oncoming demise. This was the time to venture on and find the cocky child. He knew just where to look for his archenemy. The person who took his hand and later on had tried to let the same crocodile at him whole. The nail on his coffin, the source of his grey hairs and sleepless nights. Peter Pan.

“Let us go Smee. We need to find this famous ‘Kensington Gardens’ of which our little fairy friend told us before our departure.”
“Aye Captain!“

~*~

“Oh please Michael! You can’t be serious out that!” Said the Twin but Michael nodded. “I am! I swear! It was him!”
Al his brothers sighed and Nibs said: “But Michael, not one of us had dreamed about him. How could he get here?”
“None of you have?” Michael asked frowning and all the boys shook their head.

It was true. Not one of them had dreamed about Jas Hook or Smee. They had had dreams about the Indians, the mermaids, fairies and the wild animals. They had even dreamed about the swordfights they would have against each other, but none of them had even dared to dream about the pirates. It was a great surprise to hear that Captain Hook had found his way into London on his own anyway. Or maybe, just maybe someone had dreamed about Hook!

Michael jumped of his bed and shouted: “Wendy!”
Tootles looked at him as though he had just sprouted a second head, not understanding what the youngest of the group meant. John however did understand and shook his head. “Wendy doesn’t even remember Neverland. She never talks about it anymore. Why would she dream about Neverland?”
On this Slightly looked up from his flute. “What if she does remember Neverland? What if she does remember, but not like we do?”
“But why would she dream about Hook?” Tootles asked, clearly confused. John shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we should ask her?”

As soon as the words had left John’s lips, the boys were bustling over each other to get to Wendy’s room. Nibs reached her room first en threw the door open. It slammed against the wall, making their one and only sister jump. She whirled around to look at her band of brothers and scolded. “Why on earth are you guys making such a racket! Hasn’t any of you ever heard of knocking?”

“Did you dream of Captain Hook?” Michael blurted out and Wendy looked at him in disbelieve. All her brothers had found their way into her room by now and were waiting impatiently for her answer. Wendy really didn’t want to answer the question, she was ashamed to admit it. But how could her brothers know about her dreaming about Neverland?

She had indeed dreamed of Captain Hook. Wendy could still feel the cold silver of the hook against her skin, the warmth of his breath against his cheek. The pain as the sharp point of the hook had penetrated her skin and the complete and utterly embarrassing glimmer of hope deep inside of her. Hope that Peter would come soaring down from a cloud and would defeat the nasty pirate. But it had only been a dream. Not something she was willing to share with her brothers. She had moved on with her life. She had grown, she had matured, she was making plans for the future and Neverland lay in the past.

She had never dreamed about Neverland. The dreams had reared up their big ugly heads just a couple of months ago. Around the same time as the boys their dreams had started. The first couple of times Wendy had awoken, gasping for air and fighting back tears. She had wanted to scream, shout and cry so badly. But she had not. She had decided that dreams were just dreams and that she would have to learn how to cope with them. It hadn’t worked. It hadn’t worked at all.

Wendy closed her eyes and lowered her head. The silence continued but after what seemed forever she whispered: “Yes, I have been dreaming about Captain Hook.”

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

4. Deaf man ears.

It was getting colder really fast and Peter could tell that the winter was coming rapidly. The wind was swirling around his body and he pulled his coat closer to his body. He really needed a winter coat, but that would mean he would have to ask Bianca for it. Something he’d rather not do. Asking her would mean admitting defeat to something he could not quite name. He liked to pretend he was just fine, not something hard to do. He was the king of make believe after all!

He could imagine a dinner so rich that not even the most wealthiest in the world had ever eaten it. He had thought up a home for himself and could even fly! There was nothing he couldn’t do, so he would always be just fine. Even if he was not fine, he could always pretend to be. No one had to no he had his own weaknesses. That would make him to vulnerable for attacks of emotion. Something Peter Pan detested more than anything. Emotions.

Of course the truth was that he no longer could imagine a big dinner. He could not imagine a house and the worst of all was that he couldn’t fly anymore. He did not have the freedom to fly anywhere he wished it. He could no longer ride the winds back till dawn. He was no king anymore. He was just a boy, like Wendy had said before she’d left him. He was deficient. How was his deficient? He was just a boy. Just a boy!

Back then he had loathed the words for their meaning. He was not a mere boy! He was brave, fearsome and everything the Lost Boys wanted to be! No one should have even dared to tell him that he was just a boy. He had been so much more than that. She was deficient for not being able to see that!

Yes she was! Peter thought as he crossed his arms and stared at the brickwork right in front of him. He had promised to go to school today. Why he had done that was beyond him. There was absolutely nothing that school could teach him he didn’t already know. No one needed to learn how to write, do math or learn about history. Everything useful in life, Peter already knew. He knew how to talk, run, hunt and fight. There was nothing else to life that a man should learn. London just didn’t knew this yet and Peters teachers wouldn’t believe him when he told them.

His complaints always fell on deaf men ears. Here, at school, he was being taught the silliest things. They had even spent a couple lessons learning how to act around girls. How to behave when you were going to meet her parents and what to do on certain dates. Peter snorted and crossed his arms. As if!

He was never letting a girl get her claws into him. He would never be caught and changed. Because that was exactly what girls did. They told you that they liked you and then they wanted to change every single thing about you. It would be stupid to allow it. Peter would never allow it. He could smell those horrible girls from miles away. They would never catch him! He would never be changed! He was a free spirit. A free spirit that had to go to school.

Peters face fell and he sighed. He stepped over the threshold of the school however. Peter Pan never came back on his word, or broke a promise. Not ever.

~*~

Wendy sat on a fauteuil in her mother’s parlor and stared at the letter in her hands. Mrs. Darling had handed her the letter just moments ago. It was addressed to her father, but Mr. Darling had wanted his daughter to read it. He wanted to know what she thought about it and the truth being told, Wendy had been waiting for this letter to arrive. But now she held it firmly in her hands, the content didn’t seem to matter anymore. She had already known her father was to receive it. It had only been a matter of time and courage.

She already knew what the letter entailed, but she read it anyway. Only because it was the most polite thing to do and Wendy had always been proud on her good manners.

‘Mr. Darling,

With the writing of this letter I am hoping to ask a question that is weighing heavily on my chest. Please allow me to introduce myself before asking my question. By doing so I am dearly hoping not to be disappointed by your answer.

My name is Christian Montgomery. My father is the honorable judge William Montgomery, a man well known in London. At this moment I am attending my final year at St. Helena’ School for pristine young men, but will start at Oxford next fall. I’ll be attending Law there, hoping that one day I might be able to step in my father’s shoes and make London bigger than it has ever been.

The reason I am telling about my prospects in live is due to the fact that I have been quite taken with your daughter, Wendy. I have never approached her, although we have had a conversation now and again. For this matter however I would like your consent before asking Wendy’s opinion on the matter. This could very well be a turning point in our relationship and to avoid trouble I thought it wise to inform you first sir.

For quite some time now I have been contemplating the idea of asking your daughter out to the Alabaster’s costumed ball at Halloween. Hoping that spending some time with her would form a bond between us that can only grow stronger as time passes. Perhaps grow into something more than just friendship. I would be able to make your daughter a very happy woman.

With all of this in the back of my mind I respectfully ask for you permission to ask Wendy out to the Alabaster’s Halloween party.

Awaiting your answer,

Christian Montgomery’

“Your father thinks he’s quite the little slime ball,” Mrs. Darling broke the silence and Wendy looked up from the letter. Her mother had a smile on her face. Apparently she didn’t share her husband’s opinion, cause a moment later she whispered: “I believe he’s got a talented way with words. He sounds very ambitious.”

“He is.” Wendy sighed. Mrs. Darling cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t say a word. In her eyes being ambitious wasn’t a bad thing at all. It would mean that the boy would be very capable of providing for her daughter, might this turn into a marriage. Christian’s father had a real reputation in London. He was ever impartial in judging people of crimes. For him gray didn’t exist. There was black and there was white. There was good and then there was bad. No middle way. You made your own decisions and you alone could be held accountable for them.

It was something Mr. Darling could very well understand. Mrs. Darling saw things differently however. That didn’t mean she didn’t respect Mr. Montgomery. She had to and he was a very nice person. His son seemed nice enough in his letter to, but she preferred that her husband would meet with him before letting Wendy leave the house with him. Just for safekeeping. She only had one daughter and she had thought she’d lost her one time before. It had been horrible.

Mrs. Darling waited for Wendy to tell more about the boy, but she remained silent. So silent even, that Mrs. Darling felt obliged to ask about the boy. “How did you two meet Wendy?”

“Oh it was nothing mother,” Wendy answered. “I was waiting for Michael and John to leave their school building and he waited with me. We talked about petty things such as the weather and oncoming social events. I didn’t think I’d given him any reason to pursue me until Susan Bowler told me about his plans.”

Wendy made a wide gesture with her hands, as though she wanted the conversation to move on. But Mrs. Darling didn’t say anything and just looked at her daughter as she looked back awkwardly. The teenager bit her lower lip and loudly breathed in. “Do you think that father would give Christian permission to ask me out? Even if father thinks he’s a slime ball? The ball of the Alabasters is over four days already. It’s a costumed party. This needs to be sorted out as soon as possible mother.”

Mrs. Darling didn’t answer. It seemed that Wendy was movie on. There had been a while when her daughter seemed to be sulking more and more. She had looked miserable in the period when she had just returned home. Of course the boys had told all about their visit to Neverland. But not Wendy. Wendy had never told stories about what had happened to her whilst being in a land where everything was possible. Mrs. Darling had prompted her to tell about it once. Just once and it had been terrible.

Wendy had looked as though someone had just torn a hole in her heart and turned pale. Her hand were balled into tight little fist, crumpling up her dress. And her eyes, her beautiful green eyes had been looking at the nursery window. It was open every night, like she was waiting for something. Normally looking at the window gave her a hopeful look, but now she look inconsolable. She had closed the window that night and every night since then. Even when she had moved to another room, she would still check the nursery window. It had to be closed.

In truth Mrs. Darling had lost her daughter when she went to Neverland. But what exactly had her daughter lost by coming back to her?

_________________

She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry! It took me too long to update and I fully realize it. The problem was that I had a whole lot of information I needed to put into this chapter. As I wrote I came up with so much more that I needed to cut several things out again in order to make this chapter understandable. I hope that you don’t find this to confusing. I’m still working on the plotline I’ve set out from the beginning. I’ve tried to put some old fashioned things in this chapter. Hope I got it right. Do enjoy this chapter and if you want, let me know what you think

5. Evening Moon.

A boy with raven black hair stood in the hall of the Darlings. His hands were folded behind his back as he examined a big grandfathers clock. His honey-colored eyes were looking at the wood with an interest rarely showed in a clock. The teenager was dressed in black, with a single red rose pinned to his jacked. Another item of interest he held, was a sword. A big, old pirate sword. The truth being told, the boy didn’t look anything like a pirate. But there weren’t much people whom had actually seen a pirate and lived to tell the tale.

The sound of a door opening made the boy look up and turn around when he saw Mr. Darling approach him. He didn’t extend his hand, but waited for the elder man to extend his first. It was only polite to way half a minute longer. No matter how nervous he was. It was only polite to allow Mr. Darling to take point in the matter. After all the matter concerned his daughter. Mr. Darling probably was just as nervous as he was, maybe even more.

It didn’t take the elder man very long to extend his hand. He just looked the teenager up and down, plastered a smile on his face that was obviously fake and stretched out his hand.

“Edward Darling.” The man said with a grim voice and the dark haired boy took the hand. “Christian Montgomery sir, pleasure to meet you.”

Mr. Darling nodded. “Likewise son.” There was a small pause but then Mr. Darling gestured towards an armchair. “Please take a seat. Wendy and my wife are taking care of the final things. They will join us shortly.”

They sat down opposite of each other and Mr. Darling stared at Christian for a period of time. He obviously wasn’t quite satisfied with the situation yet. He looked like a father brooding to find something bad about the boy who came to pick her up. Giving him a proper excuse to keep her at home, locked away from male attention. The question that followed wasn’t an unexpected one. “Is someone chaperoning you?”

Christian nodded. “Yes sir, my mother has taken it upon herself to chaperone us during this evening.”

That his mother was most likely to fall asleep an hour upon arriving at the ball was something Christian found wise not to mention and Mr. Darling didn’t ask any further. He just nodded and glanced at the clock muttering: “Very well, very well.”

The elder man probably saw the time slipping through his fingers. Not being able to stop his daughter from growing up, but not quite capable to accept the fact that she was nearly an adult. Christian had to admin though, Mr. Darling had been quite effective at keeping Wendy away from society. Any other girl with her looks would have several suitors by this age, but not Wendy. It was a miracle that a lot of other man had missed her beauty. But not him. He had not missed the shyness of her smile, the luscious glistering in her eyes when she talked to him. Nor had he missed the yearning in her complexion. He had seen it all and it had engraved itself in his memories. Christian didn’t even try to forget about Wendy Darling.

He wanted her and she was to be his. For he was Christian Montgomery and he always got what he wanted. One way or the other. He would be kind, he would be nice, he would even compliment her mother to get his way. It wouldn’t even matter if she looked like a bat straight from hell, he would compliment her to get on this families good side. They would soon release her into his arms and then he would persuade her to leave her old live behind. She had the opportunity to marry up and she should take it with both arms. Her parents were working-class people with too many children. It would be a disgrace for his family. Not Wendy, never Wendy. Only the rest of her entire family.

The sound of a door opening broke through Christian’s thoughts and he looked at the door, just in time to see Wendy enter. She looked absolutely gorgeous. She wore a green dress, made of some kind of light fabric. Her hair was draped around her head like a halo and she seemed to be floating into the room. That effect was magnified by the silk wings on her back and for a moment Christian could only stare at the angel before him.

She smiled at him in a way only women could. A kiss hidden in the right corner of her lips. Which made her smile much more interesting. It was the kiss he intended to steal before the evening was over…

~*~

“You are not coming in that Peter! You will cause a scandal of such measures that I won’t be welcome anywhere!” Bianca nearly shouted at Peter. He just crossed his arm and gave the elder woman his most impressive glare ever. “You said I had to be something mythical. I’m going as Peter Pan, the boy who will never grow up.”

“You are Peter Pan, and you’ve obviously grown!” Bianca countered and Peter looked slightly abashed. He recovered rather fast however. “That does not matter. You are a grown woman pretending to be the Goddess Diane! Why can’t I pretend to be just a boy?”

Peter had never looked so stubborn before and Bianca sighed. “You are showing far too much skin Peter. People can almost see your Mister Twinkletoes, because you are only wearing leaves.”

At this point Peter turned beet red, he didn’t like it when Bianca talked about his private parts. Sure when he had just came back to London he didn’t have any feelings like shame, shyness or anything like that. But he did now! One of the few things he had learns whilst being here and it was a feeling that made him utterly uncomfortable . It was that very feeling that made him grumble: “Fine! I’ll just go as a bloody pirate!”

“Watch your language young man,” came the reply as Peter was already halfway up the stairs. He just waved at his foster mother and disappeared into the room which belonged to him. About ten minutes later he was downstairs again. This time in a black pants with a stunning white shirt. It was an old-fashioned shirt, with frills on the sleeves. It made Peter look like a charming pirate who al the same must be approached with caution. It suited him, just as Bianca had expected when she had bought it for him. “You look wonderful dear. Let’s go, we mustn’t be late.”

Of course they were late. But only because everyone thought it to be wise to arrive by carriage. There was a huge line in front of the Alabasters house and Peter hated every second he had to wait. He hated small secluded spaces. It made him feel like he was suffocating. Bianca wanted to take a carriage. If it had been up to Peter they had made their way over to the Alabasters by foot. It would’ve taken them far less time to get there and he would not have felt so utterly uncomfortable. Unfortunately he no longer was the boss of his own kingdom. Bianca was the adult and she had every right to make the decisions for him. Until he turned twenty-one that was.

After that he would be as free as humanly possible whilst being a grown up. He would have other responsibilities. Even less time for himself and no right whatsoever to have fun. By the time he would turn twenty-one London would have truly clipped his wings and stolen his freedom. He would be a shadow of the person he once had been. The person he was supposed to be. He would be ordinary. He would be normal. He would be everything he hoped never to become. And he hated every moment of inching closer to it.

~*~

“Would you care to dance?” Wendy looked at the crowded dance floor and then back at Christian. Perhaps this would be a good time to tell him that she did not care for dancing. She had shared a dance with a boy a long time ago and would rather not dance again. Although he had been just a boy, it was that boy she had always kept in her thoughts. On the other side she really didn’t want to insult Christian. He had been really kind to her al evening, even though she felt very uncomfortable. Everyone was looking at her and Christian. They where the subject of gossip in the entire room.

Wendy just smiled at Christian and nodded. She realized that the boy in front of her was making a point of being seen with her. It was most likely his way of letting everyone know he was courting her. The teenager thought he was just a little too willing as he grabbed her hand and leaded her onto the dance floor.

She could feel his left hand pressing warm against her hip and the right one was gripping her hand tightly. It made her feel that if he would let go off her, she would fly away. It was a feeling she hadn’t had in quite some time. It was a feeling Wendy reveled in. So as the sweet tones of a waltz were audible in the room, she closed her eyes and let herself be taken to a world she hadn’t seen in years. A world build on the imagination of one single person.

Christian was a powerful leader in the dance and Wendy allowed it. She was glad that he had not stepped on her toes yet, although the room was getting rather chilly. The music had gotten softer to and Wendy opened her eyes, only to discover that she was no longer in the ballroom. She was out on one of the balconies. Slowly her eyes focused on the dark haired boy in front of her and she could see that he was smiling at her. It made her feel odd, like something really important was about to happen. His face was slowly moving closer and that was the moment Wendy saw something move over Christian’ shoulder.

Without realizing it herself, Wendy gasped for air and took two steps back. At the sound Christian opened his eyes, looking confused and bewildered. Over his shoulder however blue eyes met sea-green ones, both looking stunned. I a moment of silence she took his appearance in. His green eyes, that looked so tired. His tousled blonde hair and challenging smile. She saw it all. His grieve, his anger and his hurt. She couldn’t find the boy she once knew. And because of that she could only whisper: “Peter?”

“Who?” Christian asked, stepping into Wendy’s line of vision. She couldn’t see past his broad shoulders anymore and because of that she totally missed that Peter had froze. His eyes were still staring at the spot where he had seen Wendy. Now a place somewhere in the middle of Christian’s back. He seemed absolutely flabbergasted en looked unable to say something or even move.

Wendy however pushed Christian aside as she answered his question. “Peter”

“I am not Peter. I am Christian,” the teenage boy said bewildered as he allowed Wendy to push him aside. “I know that you are Christian, you could never be Peter.”

At that comment, Peter’s body seemed to come back to live. A hard look appeared on his face, on that Wendy had never seen before. He didn’t say a word however, proving once more how much he had grown up indeed. He stared at Wendy as Christian turned around to look at the other boy. As the dark haired teenager opened his mouth however Peter stormed passed the couple and went back inside. He had not said as much as one word, but the look on his face had said it all. Wendy understood that he did not want to see her. No matter how many questions she had.

It felt like someone had just thrown a bucket filled with cold water over her head, without any warning. She felt cold and like crying but at the same time she wanted to smile and laugh. She did none of those things however. She looked at Christian and said: “Let’s go back inside. We shouldn’t be alone, it only gives people more reasons to gossip about us.”

Christian nodded silently, realizing that Wendy had failed to notice that he had wanted to give all those people a real reason to gossip about them. It would’ve worked to, if that ‘Peter’ person hadn’t gotten in the way. A grim look appeared on the teenager’s face as he escorted his date back inside. He would have to go looking for ‘Peter’ later on and explain to him that he had to disappear out of Wendy’s live just as fast as he had entered it. Within a second..

_________________

She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

6. Forgotten Friends.

Inside Peter was hiding behind the massive red curtains. His back was firmly pressed against the wall and his eyes were shut tightly. Wendy’s face was etched into his memories, he couldn’t get rid of it. Her, looking every bit like a fairy. It had felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart with a knife and was slowly twisting it. As he lay his hand over his heart however, he didn’t feel the sticky warmth of blood. It was all inside, like so many of the pains he was feeling since returning to London.

It had not been like he had pictured it in his mind. Nothing like that at all. She had recognized him. It wasn’t like she had forgotten all about him. She had knowingly blocked him out of her life! She had just looked him in the eyes and remembered who he was. That made him hurt even more and he realized that some part of him had still cherished hope. Hope that she did regret ever leaving him and taking everything that had made his life vibrant.

He grew up for her, with all the right intentions. Everything just ended so wrong and now he had to be at this dratted party, dressed up like a monkey from hell. Dressed up like someone he utterly detested and his only option was to stand on a balcony and watch HIS Wendy give something that should’ve always belonged to him to someone else. A surge of anger passed through Peter and he balled his hands into fists. He could still see the back of that boys head. Wend’s face, their closeness. It had angered him more that should be legal. He had wanted to break that pretty boy’s nose. He still found himself thinking it to be a very good idea.

Peter knew however that it wasn’t a good idea. Make that guy eat his front teeth would only result in trouble and Bianca’s reputation being destroyed. Not something he would want on his conscience , but the fact still remained that Wendy had no right to give HIS kiss to someone else! Not even that proper mister nice guy! The blonde boy grinded his teeth and slowly unclenched his fists as another idea entered his mind. It was just a window opening. One of the many that had closed when he had left Neverland. Wendy was just an opening window, an opportunity to show that he was not just a boy. That he was not deficient and that he was worth more than she thought.

“Peter, why are you hiding behind the curtains?” Bianca asked as she pushed aside the thick velvet curtains. Peter blinked in surprise. He had not seen her approach and he had thought that he was not visible behind the curtain. Without hesitating however he said: “I am not hiding! I am merely standing here so I can’t be bothered by people who have no meaning to me at all.”

His mouth formed a stubborn line and he looked straight at Bianca Wainwright. She sighed and lightly lay a hand on Peter’ shoulder. He looked at it pointedly and she dropped it again. “I realize that you don’t want to be here Peter. The Alabasters are old friends of mine. I haven’t seen them since my beloved Maxwell died.”

Suddenly she looked years older and something tugged at Peter’ stomach. His foster mother managed a smile and said: “This is necessary for your future contacts. I will point out some important people who can help you in the future.”

Peter sighed and took two steps sideways. He stood close to Bianca as she nodded towards a very pretty girl, dressed up like some kind of goddess. “That girl is Angela Broadbent. Her father is the Head of the hospital. She is very kind. Her parents are standing behind her.”

She smiled at a passing couple and waited until they were out of hearing range. After that she nodded in the general direction of a sleeping woman. “That is Therese Montgomery. Her husband is a attorney at law who used to work with my husband. I’m guessing that she is her with her son. William doesn’t like to go to costumed parties. I heard rumors though that their son, Christian is courting a girl and that he wanted to take her here.”

Her eyes were skimming the place for the son, but her lips didn’t stay silent for too long. “She isn’t a very good chaperone, sleeping like that. Oh! There he is! Christian is quite handsome.”

She pointed openly at one of the buffet tables and Peter craned his head to see that pretty boy. As he caught sight of Christian his body went completely rigid and he could only stare. Bianca didn’t notice anything and just kept babbling. “Oh! Look! That must be his girl. She looks so pretty, dressed up like a fairy.”

“Please stop.” Peter whispered weakly and she did. Abruptly she stopped talking and looked at the teenager. He was still staring at the young couple, but t looked like he was going to be sick. “Are you okay Peter?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, still rooted to the spot. His eyes were still glued to the girl’s face and that was when something dawned on her. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ but no sound came out. She stared at Peter and then look at the girl. “You know her. Don’t you Peter?”

“I thought I did,” Peter said, his voice braking at the end. The words had barely left his lips when he pushed himself passed Bianca and nearly ran onto the balcony. Behind him his foster mother looked stunned, but still called after him. “Peter! Where are you going?”

“I am going to throw myself of the balcony.” The teenager answered as he stepped on the railing. “I will see you at home. I will not stay to watch her with that slime ball.”

Bianca was still staring at the spot where Peter had stood no less than a second ago. She understood fully that Peter was running from something in his past. Maybe even someone in his past. He had never sounded so helpless before as when he asked her to stop. And he had not asked her to stop until she had said something about the girl escorting Christian to the party.

Slowly the widow turned around and took a better look at the young woman. Did she knew Peter from his past? That could be something to look into, but first she needed to check whether Peter had made it down safely. He usually did, but she still felt the need to check every time he did something like that.

~*~

“Who is that, talking to you mother Christian?” Wendy asked as she and Christian walked back to his mother. The dark haired boy frowned, distorting his handsome features. It seemed that he was trying to remember her. Christian had always seemed so intelligent, but it took him quite a while to come up with a name. Wendy wished that he would say something. She needed the distraction. Otherwise she would start to think about the scene on the balcony and the evening would end in tears.

“I believe it is the wife of a man who my father used to work with.” Christian said at long last and Wendy looked at him. “Why do you say ‘used to’ don’t they work together anymore?”

Christian shook his head. “He died about ten years ago. Tuberculoses. He left her. They never had children. She was alone and took in some street kid.” He snorted. “I can’t imagine why.”

“I can. It’s called a random act of kindness. She took in a child in need of a home and in turn is loved.” Wendy said snappishly, surprised at the snobby words that had left Christian’s mouth just now.

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong! I do understand the necessity of company.” Christian tried to reassure her. “But the child she took so lovingly into her home is supposed to be a arrogant little monster. My father said that it was incurable.”

Incurable or not, it sounded like someone she used to know. Arrogant, reckless and ever so cheerful. Someone who needed to be loved, but did not dare to admit it. Afraid to get his heart broken. The child reminded her of long forgotten friends…

_________________

She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

A/N: Sorry everyone for taking so long to update this story. I’ve been really busy and looking for a beta-reader who is willing to read my story before posting it. I haven’t found anyone yet, if you are interested please let me know. So yeah, I know my grammar isn’t perfect Barbie22 And I’m really doing my best to get it right. English isn’t my first language however so I don’t see everything… Alas. A big thank you to everyone who took the time to respond to chapter six! Hope you enjoy this chapter!



It was early, way too early. Bianca had not spelt much, but she really needed to talk to Peter. Seeing him so distraught had really scared her. During the years he had been living with her, Peter had never showed such emotion. Not when she had asked about his past and not when she had asked about his parents. He had just waved her questions away as though it had not mattered at all.

Seeing the girl that Christian had brought to the ball hat triggered a strong emotional reaction in the teenager. Bianca had been able to tell that seeing her meant something to him. No matter how hard he was trying to fight back every flicker of anger, betrayal and grieve. Those very emotions were the very reason that Bianca was determined to talk about it with Peter. This would be one of those moment in which she would not drop the subject before she got some answers.

“Peter, please talk to me.” Bianca asked as she gently set down her teacup and look at the teenager at the other end of the table. He merely looked at her and sat up a bit straighter. Bianca realized right there and then that Peter would try to avoid the subject she wanted to talk about. Only then he used manners rarely seen on his person. As though he hoped to stun people and run for it the first chance he got. Peter only confirmed this by saying: “As you wish madam.”

He picked up his teacup and took a small sip, obviously looking for something to talk about. Peter smiled at her, his teacup still in his hand. “I think breakfast tastes rather good this morning. I dare say that we should complement the cook on the fine dishes she had put on this table this fine morning. May I be so bold as to inform to your opinion on this matter madam?”

Bianca completely ignored what he was saying and instead asked: “What happened last night Peter?”

Without warning the teacup shattered in Peter’s hand, sending shards of glass flying in every direction. The teenage boy clenched his jaws together as his eyes narrowed. He didn’t say a word however. Bianca frowned. “Don’t Peter. Please don’t. Do not shut me out like that. I care about you like you are my own child. You seemed quite upset last night. I want to help you, so please talk to me.”

Peter’s eyes fixed on a little spot of blood that had appeared on his hand. It grew bigger en slithered down the palm of his hand. He waited until it fell on the tablecloth and then dropped his hand, looking up at Bianca. His face showed no emotion whatsoever and for a split second she feared his reaction. Peter’s temper tantrums had been infamous when she had just taken him into her house. He had calmed down a bit, but she was pressing a subject he clearly did not want to talk about at all.

“I told you last night. Why should I care to elaborate more about the subject?”Peter said at long last. His tone was clipped and his face guarded. It did not seem like he was going to answer and Bianca just looked at him in silence as he stood on the other end of the table. He places his hand on the table, not caring about the glass or the fact that he was smearing blood on the white table cloth. He leaned over towards Bianca and whispered pleadingly: “I do not want to talk about it. Please don’t make me.”

He sounded so sincere and Bianca truly wished that she could drop the subject. Yet she couldn’t. This time she needed Peter to talk about it. Whatever it was. Whatever had transpired between him and the girl. He would give her some answers, even when it was just to prevent her from visiting the girl. His face had told her that much last night. It had not told her everything she wanted to know, but she would get her answers. One way or the other.

~*~

“Who is she?” Peter now fully understood how Captain Hook must’ve felt about the crocodile’s persistent chase. He realized that Bianca wasn’t about to change the subject, no matter what he did. The fact remained however that he really did not desire to talk about her. Nor did he wish to answer any questions. Bianca wasn’t going to leave him with any choice and just the mere that that he needed to say her name out loud was killing him. At long last he whispered: “Wendy.”

“You said you knew her. How do you know her?” Bianca shot the next question at him and Peter closed his eyes tightly. He could feel the tears building behind his eyelids and loudly suck in air. He held his breath, violently trying to fight back the tears. This was so typical for adults. Always claiming that they wanted to help you. That they wanted the best for you. And as you turned your back, they would hit you on the back of the head. Hard! Adults and their Gullible promises!

That thought wakened up an entirely different emotion in the teenage boy. The feeling of overwhelming grieve was replaces with a blood boiling anger. Before he could stop himself, his fist hit the tabletop. Glass from the teacup cut in his hand, but he ignored it. He also ignored the fact that the plates jumped up, as did Bianca. He couldn’t ignore the twinge of guilt, but tried to do so anyway and did what he had always done the best. He blamed it on someone else.

“I said I thought I knew her! I obviously did not! I also said that I did not want to talk about it! Don’t force me! I will take care of it myself. I don’t need you probing into my past! I do not want to talk about it!” He shouted at his foster mother and nearly ran out of the room. Who did she think she think she was? He had already sad that he didn’t want to talk about it. So how dare she question his own good judgment? If he said that he didn’t know her, then he meant it. The girl he had seen last night was not the person that he remembered. Not the person he knew back in Neverland. She was not!

~*~

Father still looked absolutely enraged. Wendy couldn’t put it any other way and unfortunately she knew why George was so angry. At one point he had been bettering his toast, by now it seemed like he was trying to cut his plate in halve to set free the breadcrumbs that once had been his toast. Wendy didn’t even dare to so much as glance at her father. Unfortunately he seemed determined to say something because he threw down his cutlery and looked over at Mrs. Darling. There was a small silence, in which Mrs. Darling looked up at her husband. “Is there something wrong dear?”

Wendy cringed, even before her father had made a sound. That was the wrong question to ask. Yes, there was something wrong. The look on her father’s face had been screaming it at her ever since he had ushered her inside the house last night.

He seemed to control his temper however and mere asked: “Did Wendy tell you how her party was?”

Mrs. Darling raised her eyebrows in surprise and slowly shook her head. “No, we haven’t had the time yet dear. We are having a nice family breakfast.”

Mr. Darling seemed to swell up and all of the Darling children tried to hide their faces into either their plate or teacup. They all knew that their father would take off like a house on fire. Quick and loudly. They had experienced it before and knew just when to take cover. It was a surprise to all when George relatively calmly continued: “So she didn’t tell you that the little slime ball tried to kiss her?”

He paused for a moment as everybody in the room turned to look at Wendy. She blushed and opened her mouth to say something but George continued: “You weren’t aware yet of the fact that your daughter near to groped by that boy? Like she was an ordinary street worker!”

“George!” Mrs. Darling said, sounding shocked.

“Father!” Wendy exclaimed, wishing that the ground would open underneath her and swallow her whole.

Mrs. Darling looked at the boys and said: “Boys, please take Michael upstairs. Your father, Wendy and I need to talk about something.”

The boys moved faster than they ever had before and they were halfway up the stairs when they heard Mr. Darling explode. Feeling sorry for Wendy, the boys went into their room. But boys will always be boys. So when they started one game or another they forgot all about Wendy and the other things happening in their lives…

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

Chapter 8; Horrible plans


Peter looked at the chalkboard at the front of the classroom, but didn’t even make the effort to read what the teacher had written on it. Someone had told him long ago that the biggest adventure of them all was actually living. Growing up. Right now, it didn’t feel like the awfully big adventure he had been picturing in his mind. At his moment it really just was a pain in his ass. He couldn’t even remember the reason why he had decided to grow up in the first place. His missed Neverland more than words could describe en yet here he was, sitting at a desk while some old goat tried to learn him something very unimportant. Like he would ever use history. There was a very obvious reason why it was called the past. You weren’t very likely to ever get to see it again.

He would rather be outside at the moment. It didn’t even matter that it was raining cats and dogs. Anywhere but the school would be a major improvement. The only reason he was at school was due to the fact that he had felt the need to escape the house. Bianca still hadn’t dropped the subject en Peter really didn’t want, nor did he feel the need to talk about the girl he once knew. The elder woman didn’t have the right to meddle with his life like she was doing at the moment.

She felt that she had every right to stick her nose into his business. He was living in her house, she was giving him clothes and an education. She was raising him and just this morning she had screamed at him that she felt like he was her own child. He was not though. A child raised by her from birth would’ve been so much more to her then he could ever be.

Peter frowned as he realized that the teacher was actually look at him. Why on earth was that old toad eying him like he had done something terribly wrong? Wait! Was this one of those very rare moments in which teachers actually tried to get the class to pay attention? He had heard about that! Of course there had never been a teacher whom had tried that little trick on him. Most teachers realized that he wasn’t really paying attention and didn’t feel the need to insult his intelligence with stupid questions.

“Mister Pan, would you be so kind to answer the question.” The teacher croaked and Peter looked at him as though he had just grown another pair of ears. This probably was one of those moments in which Bianca would’ve liked him to smile bashfully at the teacher and apologize. He should say something dumb. Like that he wasn’t paying attention or even that he had gotten distracted by one the or the other. It wasn’t something he would consider doing within the next five minutes. Being honest seemed like such a waste of the opportunity to get out of the warm and oddly smelling classroom. So instead of doing what society was demanding of him he smiled ever so lightly.

“Excuse me sir, but I won’t be able to answer the question. The subject which you are teaching is unfortunately so very boring that I could not force myself to listen to it any longer. The first two words were enough to make me focus on matters that were so much more important.” He fell silent and for a moment looked out of the window like he was watching something fascinating. From the corner of his eye the teenager could see that the teacher was looking out of the window to and turned to look at him again. He smiled again, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and added: “Like watching the grass grow…”

~*~

Mrs. Darling was looking at her daughter. She had not moved since she sat down, right after breakfast. George had forbidden her to go to school and dutifully Wendy had stayed at home. She seemed shredded to pieces but at least there were no signs of tears. George had not believed Wendy when she had said that she did not allow Christian any liberties. He had boldly tried to kiss her but that was it. He had tried and did not succeed. George however was seething with rage and had vowed that Christian would never set a foot over the threshold again.

Wendy didn’t seemed to bother by that at all. She had seemed different ever since she came back from the costumed party. It looked as though she was on an entirely different world and that idea worried her more than some boy trying to kiss her only daughter. Sure, her reputation could very well be completely destroyed when she allowed a boy to go certain things before marriage. Yet, the look on Wendy’s face scared Mrs. Darling far more. This was the look she had on her face when she had returned from where ever she had been. All those years ago.

The look which indicated that she was miles away. The mixture of good memories and grieve so deep that it was hard to miss. Mrs. Darling had never asked Wendy what she had left behind. She had been too happy to have her daughter back. It seemed that Wendy couldn’t let go of what had happened in the past however and Mrs. Darling could not allow the silence to continue any longer. It was time to talk about it and hopefully clear the air somewhat.

So Mrs. Darling sat next to Wendy and lay her hand on her daughters. The teenager looked at her, smiled and just turned her head back to the window. Mrs. Darling followed her gaze and noticed that the window had been opened. The curtains were moving slightly in the wind and in a dark corner of her mind Mrs. Darling remembered that Wendy used to open the window of her room every evening. Was she waiting for something? She sighed and asked: “What happened Wendy? What happened all those years ago?”

A confused look crossed Wendy’s features, as though she did not understand what her mother was asking her. The next moment however, her face became guarded. “We got lost Mother and eventually we found our way back home.”
“No Wendy. It isn’t as simple as that. I can see it in your face. There is something more. Something that has touched you in a way that you can never describe to me and that very same thing has hurt you beyond reason.”
Wendy sniffed. “I have no idea what you are talking about Mother.”
“Yes you do Wendy. Surely you do,” Mrs. Darling whispered as she lay a hand on her daughter’s cheek. “I know that you do.”

The teenager sniffed again and this time Mrs. Darling could see the tears in her eyes. “It was nothing mother. He was nothing.”
The elder woman’s eyes grew big. He? Oh no, surely not! Wendy had been a mere child when she and her brothers went missing. He? No, it could not be. They had all been just children. Her babies. Yet she cautiously asked: “He, Wendy? Who is he?”

Wendy looked up as though she had just sold her biggest secret but then she sighed and leaned back. It looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and Mrs. Darling didn’t say a word. She knew her daughter and realized that she would say who ‘he’ was, but only when she was ready. The silence continued on and Wendy’s eyes wandered to the window and then back to her mother. There was a small pause in her movements but then she whispered: “Peter.”

Her voice was soft, like she was wishing him by her side. Willing him back to her with his name on her lips only. Nothing happened of course, though the wind seemed to be blowing a bit harder. Mrs. Darling knew that if she were smart, she wouldn’t ask anything else. She could not hold the words back however and before she knew it, she asked: “Who is Peter?”

This time, Wendy looked up and straight into the eyes of her mother. For this first time in years it seemed like they really head contact. A spark was lit in Wendy’s eyes as she softly said: “The boy whom promised me that he would never grow up.“

~*~

“Oh, my fair lady! How I have missed you!” Jas Hook took off his head and bowed for the one and only woman in his life. His ship. He had thought that the ship had gotten lost in the gap between this world and that of Neverland, yet here she was! Gracefully swaying in the wind whilst ducks and geese were at her feet. She had never looked this good, it made Hook want to do something disgusting. He actually wanted to smile!

Yes, he did realize that his ship did not belong in a pond. He even realized that it was a snug fit but she was here! And she had brought Long Tom with her. That alone would make it so much easier to blow Peter Pan up. To kill, murder en dismember him. Captain Hook turned to look at Smee, who was valiantly trying to steal candy from a baby. He didn’t succeed and was greeted by the nanny’s handbag. Ouch! Such a fool! He would save him however, he could be of some use in the future. “Come along Smee! We have so much work to do and so little time to accomplish it.”

Smee had covered his head with his arms and ducked for cover. The furious nanny shouted a couple of things that a child should never hear and Hook immediately liked her. She was the kind of woman who would raise muggers, thieves, drunks and other ever so friendly gentlemen like himself. Smee didn’t take a liking to her however and shouted back some friendly words, before joining his waiting captain still muttering unimportant things under his breath.

“Stupid wrench! You would think that she was trying to learn the child what foulness the world is trying to hide for the surface! Blimey Captain, did you see the handbag on that hag? It felt like a ton of bricks!” Smee said as he tried to keep up with his Captain. Jas Hook barely looked at Smee and just said: “It is not like there is anything to damage Smee.”
The two walked into the ship, but people staring at the ship could still hear the round man say: “Right you are Captain. Right you are!”

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

Chapter 9: Intent.

It had taken Mr. Darling nearly a week to calm down to a degree that he allowed Wendy to go back to school. Mrs. Darling had written a note addressing the head mistress of the school, saying that her daughter had fallen ill after attending a party and that she could not attend school until she was completely healthy again. Of course rumors were still flying about, only regarding her illness and not about her virginity. Mr. Darling had underestimated his wife dearly. She had smothered a crisis before it could even begin!

Even so, George didn’t want ‘the proper slime ball’ anywhere near his daughter. In his opinion the boy should be hanged for his improper behavior towards Wendy. She had no intention to see Christian again. After what he had tried to do, she didn’t feel the need to give him the time of day anymore. She would not give him any chance to approach her alone, so she planned to walk home with one of her brothers each day. When she got out of school earlier, she would wait for them and vice versa.

So today she was waiting for Michael in front of his school. Wendy fully realized that there was a risk that she would run into Christian, since he and Michael went the same school. If that happened however, she would not give him the time of day. He had knowingly tried to destroy her reputation and that of her family. Now, Wendy did not pretend to like aunt Millicent all too much but in this situation she was ever so right. What would the neighbors think?

The teenager sighed and hoisted her book bag a bit further up. It had near slipped from her shoulder and if it were to fall onto the damp ground it would be ruined. Wendy turned around as she heard footsteps heading her way. The bell had not ringed yet, so it had to be either one of the staff or a student cutting class. It could not be Michael nor one of her other brothers, they would never allow themselves getting caught wandering the school halls during class. So she watched in amazement as the boy walked down the steps, so self-assured of himself. Judging by his uniform he was a student, but the lack of a book bag begged to differ.

Wendy fully realized that it was impolite to stare but the boy’s attitude had sparked her curiosity. She looked at his polished shoed and ironed clothes. The boy was well looked after, why wasn’t he in his classroom? The answer came as the brunette averted her eyes to the boy’s face and her heart seemed to skip a beat. “Peter?!”

Her eyes had fallen on a familiar face and unruly hair. The words had left her mouth before Wendy had even realized that she was thinking them. The boy froze and his green eyes fell on her. For a moment it looked like he was going to repeat his performance from the costumed party. He seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move. After a moment or so however, he took a step forward and folded his left arm behind his back. The right was folded in front of his body and Peter slowly bowed for her, just like he had done all those years ago. He kept his eyes locked with hers and a sly smile appeared on his face. Before Wendy could stop herself she bowed back, not blinking once. Peter might take the opportunity to disappear out of her life again.

“Hello Wendy.” His words broke the enchantment and Wendy blinked. Peter was really standing in front of her, dressed like any other boy was ought to be dressed while attending school. Tinkerbell had been right. Peter Pan had indeed left Neverland, even though Wendy had not seen him in years. A million thoughts were running through her head, yet the girl only managed to voice one. “Why are you here?”

Peter only stared at her. It looked like he did not have a clue what to say to her but it was far more likely that he just could not be bothered to answer. The two teenagers were standing face to face and the only audible sound was that of the birds. Wendy didn’t know how long they were standing there but at long last she sighed and started to turn away from Peter. It was not like it was very likely that he was going to say anything. As she turned however, Peter’s voice reached her ears and she froze in her tracks. She could see his mischievous grin from the corner of her eyes as he said: “Didn’t I say I would visit? This is me visiting.”

Wendy didn’t turn to face Peter again but her shoulders suddenly felt tense. Her face became void of any emotion and she didn’t even take the effort to look at the boy she had known so well a long time ago. Yet she could not stop the words that were flying over her lips. Cold, hard words, filled with intent to hurt the teenager. “And for just how long have you been visiting Peter? I never knew you found school so exiting that you would grow up for it.”
Wendy saw Peter shift his weight as he looked up at the building. It didn’t take him very long and it wasn’t long before his green eyes were on her form again. “Don’t talk to me like you actually have something to say about who I am. Don’t accuse me, you have no right whatsoever.”

Wendy still didn’t look at Peter, while he couldn’t seem to direct his gaze at anything else. She could not remain quiet however and asked the question that was burning on her lips from the moment that she had set her eyes on him. “You grew up Peter. Why did you grow up?”
“You left Neverland. You grew up. Why did you grow up?” Peter asked stubbornly.
“I never stopped growing up Peter.”
“Yes you did. You did. When you came to Neverland you promised to never grow up Wendy and you did. I took you to my world. I brought you to Neverland with only one condition. You could not grow up.” There was a small silence and then Peter added bitterly: “And you did.”

“I found myself in some kind of Wonderland Peter, but it was just that. A fantastical world filled with childish fantasies that I was rapidly outgrowing. I knew that it was not possible to stay a child forever.” Wendy said calmly as she turned to face Peter again. He was looking at her with a look in his eyes that she had not seen there before. He did not say a word however, which made her continue. “It wasn’t like you cared enough about me that you felt compelled to ask me to stay with you. To ask me to believe. I needed to voice my feelings and you merely stepped back to let me go.”

Her voice had gotten a bit harder as she spoke, yet Peter was still looking at her with that odd glint in his eyes. For a moment it wasn’t that difficult for Wendy to pretend that the boy in front of her did not know what to say. In the past Peter had never been at loss for words and deep down Wendy knew that he wasn’t looking for the right words to say to her. Her childhood friend was trying to fight back his emotions. Because feelings were something that Peter Pan had never been good with. Emotions should’ve been easy to dismiss. He could not be bothered by them. At least, that was what he liked to pretend.

“I did not let you leave like that,” Peter said at long last. It sounded like he had to force the words out. Wendy could feel anger bubbling up within her but she tried to remain calm. Shouting at Peter would not do the situation any good. The boy had an infamous temper and Wendy did not want to be the one to rile him up. Her words would upset him anyway but perhaps when she didn’t shout at him, maybe they would get a better reaction. So she stated, relatively calm: “Yes you did.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed dangerously and his hands slowly curled into fists. Yet he only hissed: “No I did not!”
“Yes you did! You never came to visit Peter! Not once!” Wendy said, pointing an accusing finger at the teenager. Peter swatted her hand away, shouting: “I did not! I came to your house every evening! Every evening Wendy! And you had your window closed on me! Day after day! Week after week! You had the window closed so that I could not visit!”

“We do have a front door Peter! You should try to use it from time to time, like normal people do!” Wendy yelled back before she could stop herself. She started to turn away from the boy but he grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him. Anger had always been one of the few emotions that Peter had been able to cope with. Somewhere during the discussion they had started shouting at each other and be now they were standing nose to nose. Wendy vaguely realized that Peter was much taller than she was but didn’t have the time to process the thought. Peter bent over her, his shadow falling over het like a dark blanket of anger and angst. “Now that would be a conversation I would just love to have with your father! Good evening Mr. Darling, my name is Peter Pan. I am the person who abducted your children but since I’ve kindly returned them I would really like to visit Wendy. I realized that it’s rather late but I’m really fond of her stories. Please let me go into her room, I do promise to leave before the sun comes up.” Peter snorted. “I’m sure that he would take to me like a fish takes to water.”

The boy let go of her arm and just looked at her with triumph glistening in his eyes. He was sure that he had won this argument. Wendy was deeply insulted by his words though. Peter had just totally unwittingly insinuated that Mr. Darling wouldn’t mind if his daughter would turn into some kind of slut. Furthermore he had suggested that Wendy wouldn’t mind letting men she hardly knew into her bedroom. So Wendy did the only thing she could do. She slapped Peter in the face, hard. His face snapped to the side and a red mark rapidly started to appear on his left cheek. In truth Wendy was shocked by her own behavior, she had never slapped someone like that in her entire life! Peter had always known how to annoy her beyond certain boundaries, yet this was the first time that she had used her hand to defend her honor and that of her family.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Peter said threatening as he slowly turned his head back to look at Wendy. The look in his eyes told her that he wasn’t a little boy anymore and for the first time since she had seen him again Wendy believe him. This wasn’t the boy who had taught her how to ride the wind’s back. Nor was he the boy who had taught her how to use a sword. No, that he was not. This was a young man with the face of someone she thought she knew, but he was nothing like him…

Wendy could feel tears burning behind her eyes and took two steps back. The school bell rang loudly as she did so and Peter merely looked at her. Wendy blinked, making the tears stream down her face. She didn’t say a word however as the sound of the bell died down and voices of relieved students started to fill the hallways. Wendy slowly shook her head, never taking her eyes off Peter and as she saw Michael heading her way, she whispered: “I don’t know who you are anymore. You are a stranger I never hope to see again.”
After that she wiped away her tears, grabbed Michael’s hand and started to drag him away from the school. She had waited long enough and she had said enough to. Right now it felt as though her entire world was slowly crumbling down and she did not want to stand still to watch it fall. No, that she would not.

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She was showing concern for you, and what do you do? Stick you bloody foot in your mouth!

Is dit nieuw?:P Het lijkt nieuwe, ik kan me niet herinneren dat ik hardop gegiecheld heb over peter die een mep krijgt. I just did though..

hehehehehe ik ben dol op dit verhaal... make me some more.

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~ If life is like a rivier, mine must have a great big dam in it, ~