As The World Falls Down
For my dearest Lotte who reads everything I write no matter how crazy it is. I love you.
Peter Pan sat upon the brilliant clouds that littered the sky above Neverland, looking down at the land he knew every inch of. He pouted thinking of every tree knot, every Indian, every Mermaid. He knew them all.
Ever since Wendy and The Lost Boys left, Peter found himself bored, the first time that he could ever remember. He had assumes more boys would come, after all, no one stayed on Neverland forever. The boys always left him, new ones usually came.
Peter waited patiently for more boys to fall from their prams so he could play with them, but no boys came. He would pout and claim he did not need them, that Peter Pan didn't need anyone. But in truth he did not think he would miss the boys when they were gone, their chaos, their adventures nature. Peter soon learned there was no fun in pretending alone.
And Peter missed Wendy. He used to visited her window often, just to see his Storyteller. To his horror he watched her grow up, all their 'children' following her, Little Michael grew to be taller than Captain James Hook, giving him quite a shock when the little boy with a teddy bear became a young man who smelled of cigar smoke and who gave a cocky grin when a young girl passed him.
Peter watched the nursery empty, all the children he knew moved out into the adult world, some having children themselves. Like his Wendy. Peter shivered when he recalled seeing Wendy laughing with a small child at her feet, her face marked with faint lines. Her husband stood behind her, watching their daughter with pride.
That was the last time Peter visited Wendy, he couldn't stand seeing her with her husband, it made Hook right. Peter looked over at the cover where the Jolly Roger used to sit waiting for him, waiting for the next adventurous sword fight. With the lose of their Captain, The Pirate crew no longer found a reason to stay at Neverland. There was treasure elsewhere to discover. Like the Lost Boys, and his Wendy, they were gone, no longer to partake in his games.
Peter was bored. He became bored quiet some time ago, and began to realize he was going to continue being bored for a long time to come. Peter hates being bored. He loathes it almost as much as growing up, so Peter found himself in a hard position. Not only was he bored, but he was growing up.
He did not know how it happened, but he started to get taller, his outfit made from leaves grew snug and tight, until he had to make a replacement, which only seemed to last him a short time until it fell to the same condition as the one before. He had watched countless boys grow up and leave Neverland, but he could not fathom what was happening to him, nor why or how. His voice grew deeper, he found it easier to mimic the pirates that no longer occupied the island. Hair grew in places he did not understand, making him think himself more of a creature like a wolf than a boy.
The truth was Peter sat on the cloud looking down at Neverland for a reason. He was saying goodbye. Nothing scared him more than growing up. He thought staying in Neverland would save him from the horrors of becoming a man, but even the world he called his own failed him. He thought, perhaps if he could find somewhere new to live, somewhere that was as safe as he thought as Neverland, then he thought he could hide from the changes he wad going through.
He knew he would miss Neverland, even if he refused to believe it. He would miss the adventures, of the fun he used to have. But as he changed, so did his world. It seemed that no one in the outside world believed in faeries, for slowly he noticed them fading away, he even lost track of his Tinker bell. (although unknown to him she found herself a male faerie, and was unable to waste her time with the boy who could never love her). Nothing he knew remained in Neverland, nothing except the mermaids it seemed, and they were no real fun, useful in certain games, but they didn't play like everyone else.
Peter realized he had no other choice. He had to leave and find some place he could remain a boy forever, a place he could get lost in childish games and forget about what loomed on all children, and it seemed even him, adulthood.
Peter Pan took one last look of the shell that once was his Neverland, before flying off into the the blue sky, away from all he had known. Without thinking he made his way towards the nursery he knew so well, the one that used to keep for his Wendy, and now belonged to her granddaughter.
She was young, Wendy's granddaughter. Younger than Michael was when he came to Neverland. He found her asleep when he arrived, the sky dark with the stars twinkling in the distance.
"Second to the right and straight on till morning." Peter spoke quietly to himself, remembering when he first met Wendy. Wendy's granddaughter's slept in the same bed as his storyteller had, making him think for just a moment that she was in her own bed again, that she had not grown up.
He turned away from her, the last thing he wanted was to think of Wendy, and growing up. She was the one who left him, he reminded himself bitterly, she wanted to grow up and leave him.
Flying over London he realized he did not know where to go. He knew this city, he explored it so many times, and all the cities around it. None of them could keep him from growing up, if anything they would make him grow faster.
It was that moment Peter realized he couldn't go in Wendy's world, what the adults would think of as the real world. He needed to go some place like Neverland, where you have to believe to see, a secret place. He thought of all the places he heard in stories, not just Wendy's stories but all stories that he heard. There were a few places that seemed like he could have some fun.
Oz. there were little people he could play with, talking scarecrows and lions, witches and flying monkeys. Any boy would be in his dream to live there. Except for the strict laws of the Wizard, he thought, recalling the part of the story he heard a teenager correct the young boy telling the story. The teenager spoke of politics and stolen freedoms, deep everlasting friendships and morality. Peter did not care for any of those things, all he wanted was to play.
Alagaesia. Dwarfs, Elves, Dragons. So many things Peter had never seen before. He imagined himself on the back of a dragon, tasting the salty air as they flew faster than he had ever been able to. His consideration soon dwindles as he remembered the evil king that ruled over the land, and the rebellion force against him. He did enjoy fighting yes, but not epic warfare. That was a place for men, not boys.
Labyrinth. A maze as far as the eye could see, with goblins and all sorts of creatures to play and hunt. Each turn littered with riddles and questions, there did not seem like there could ever be a dull moment in a place like that. Unlike Oz or Alagaesia its ruler even seemed fun to Peter, the Goblin King who danced in his hall and attempted to steal a child for his heir. He knew he could have fun here.
The Labyrinth was where Peter decided to go, it being the best non-adult option he thought of. He thought of how the story went to find this place, but he could not recall having heard how. The story was very recent, it coming from a young girl who was telling her baby brother of the adventures a young girl had, going through the maze to win her brother back. Perhaps if he found the girl who told the story, he could get her to tell him how to get to the Labyrinth, he thought, his usually victorious smile met his lips.
"Oh, the cleverness of me."