Disclaimer: Peter Pan, all characters, places, and related terms belong to J. M. Barrie.

Beside Her

Peter jerked awake and blinked sleepily, his dreams unwillingly sliding away. The boy pouted, disoriented. He was seated before a dying fire in the dark underground; odd, he was not in his own bed (Wendy had scolded him in the past when that happened). Stranger still, but not completely unwelcomed, was the small, warm body leaning against him, a head tucked into his shoulder, soft long hair almost tickling his chin. The snores of his band surrounded him. All was well. So why had he woke up?

Wrinkling his nose, the boy impatiently brushed the question off. Instead, he leaned his head against the girl's, shyly and contentedly, and shut his eyes, seeking out slumber again which beckoned.

BOOM!

The loud thunderclap jolted the boy, and his eyes flew open once more. It was storming outside, he realized. That was what awakened him. A fuzzy, unfocused thought attempted to tug on his ear. Peter tried unsuccessfully to capture it.

"What is it, Peter Pan?" a sleepy, concerned voice asked beside him.

He jumped, turned to the girl casting him a puzzled look, and drew back from her, bewildered. This time in the dim light he saw the black hair, dark eyes, and brown skin. Rather than the underground, they were in a tepee, surrounded by sleeping Indians and lost boys. He was not home at all, but in the Indian village (having accepted the invitation to spend the night, how had he forgotten?). The boy's eyes left the girl to dart swiftly around their surroundings. An almost desperate sense of confusion was in their depths as they sought...what?

"Peter…" A hesitant hand touched his cheek, and he flinched away from the contact, something inside him yelling at it being all wrong somehow. Not her…

"What's the matter?" she demanded.

"…Storm," Peter whispered quietly, uncertainly.

"Aye. Tis nothing," Tiger Lily replied, her expression clearing, body relaxing.

Storming, storming, storming… The hazy thought tugged harder on Peter's ear. No, it was something.

The boy rose to his knees, peering out of the tepee's open flaps into the night, listening to the crashing thunder and pounding rain, the dark trees illuminated by the bright lightning. Again he struggled away when the princess rested her hand on his arm.

"You promised," she began.

You promised her, a voice, sounding very much like a lady's he had once known long ago and had tried to forget, accused him.

Promised…

Oh, silly boy, a different, cruel voice mocked him.

Eyes widening in remembrance, Peter leapt to his feet. "I have to go!"

"Peter!"

This third time he gnashed his teeth at Tiger Lily when she tried to restrain him, protestations and questions gushing forth from her.

"She needs me."

Then he was out in the stormy darkness, flying like a shooting star to the underground (unmindful of the cold rain and taunting wind). Soon, but not soon enough for the magical boy, he was sliding down his tree and into the merry home. In a second his gaze fell on the trembling, whimpering girl lying before the dying embers of the fire, caught between the dark dreams in her mind and the furious storm here in reality. His eyes grew bright and clear, free of his earlier confusion. And the queer ache in his chest lightened.

Quickly and silently he floated to Wendy's side and lay down beside her. His arms provided a protective circle as he pulled her shaking form gently against his chest. His tone was soothing as he whispered to her hair about the beauties of the Neverland, shared a few of his happy thoughts, and reassured her she was safe with him. (In his mind, he was very stern, reprimanding the storm for frightening his Wendy.)

A wave a relief washed over him as the girl's shaking lessened, her tears ceased, her breathing grew even, and hints of a smile played at the corners of her mouth as the storm weakened and passed over. She was at peace. And as the magical boy drifted to sleep himself – still hugging Wendy close with her head tucked under his chin – this time all now felt right to Peter.

THE END