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Chapter One - The Unfamiliar and Familiar
Wendy Moira Angela Darling stared out of the train window blankly, clutching her satchel tightly in her hands. The soft sound of the rhythm made by the train wheels on the tracks was comforting, almost lulling. And Wendy needed all of the comfort she could get. Boarding school... of all the places to send her, couldn't they have picked someplace more interesting or exciting? What a terrible place it would be. She felt a faint sense of fright, admittedly, of being sent to a strange place alone. Without her mother, father, or her many loving brothers. She already missed them. And it had only been three hours!
Wendy's aunt had convinced her parents that it would be a wonderful experience to take her last year of schooling away from home. She had said that 'a young lady grows from experiences away from home, among great minds and peers that will influence her greatness in society'. Wendy had listened quietly, not daring to argue or protest her parent's decisions.
Wendy sighed softly, and her gaze averted to the vivid sunset... bright oranges and deep yellows threaded their way through pink clouds. It was beautiful, and it reminded her of the place called Neverland. Of Peter Pan. Did they really exist? She often questioned her sanity, wondering if was all some crazy, imaginative dream she had fooled herself into believing in her young years. She smiled slightly, remembering what a wild, untamed young girl she had been. Always playing, making believe, reading and telling wonderful, impossible stories. But swordplay, story telling, and daydreams had lost their attractive allure for Wendy long ago... around the time when Wendy had 'grown up'. Now, she was a respectable young woman who owned many beautiful dresses, possessed a great education, and would marry a successful businessman someday.
Still, she felt uneasy about being away from home at the young age of seventeen. But the age seventeen was not considered young, she reminded herself. In several months, she would be expected to marry. Marriage was another thing Wendy wished could be forgotten, locked away. But she never said anything of it. Wendy avoided speaking about what upset her, and spoke about what she would like to avoid most. With every day, Wendy drew closer to the fate of a respectable young woman, and she pretended she looked forward to it. But deep down, buried beneath her deepest secrets, she dreaded it.
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Wendy clutched her bag tight against her chest, and stared up at the iron gates, wide-eyed, feeling small and frightened. Many other children milled around her, chatting, rummaging for papers, and some were engaging in horseplay. None were staring up at the cold silver letters that read 'Williamson and Martin's Boarding School' in spidery script. A small, sinking feeling welled up inside Wendy as she made her way into the courtyard.
The school looked exactly like what Wendy had pictured... perhaps even worse. Several grey buildings stood on rolling grey grounds. There was little grass, and the sky was... grey. There were large trees, but instead of bringing life and greenery to the scene, they seemed large and foreboding.
"Avast!" a young man's voice cried out, breaking through Wendy's thoughts.
"I'll have thee!" cried another. Wendy turned curiously to see two boys with 'sword fighting' with sticks. A smile crept onto Wendy's face, and a warm feeling arose in her heart. The sight reminded her of home, of her younger years... she drew closer, watching them with unhidden interest. One of the boys was rather short and fat, and he had a sweet, dimpled face that suggested he had been spoiled... but he was very fast. The other boy was taller, much taller, and fit. Wendy could not see his face.
The shorter boy lunged forward and hit the taller one square on the chest, and the boy gave a greatly exaggerated cry of pain, stumbled backward, and before Wendy could react, he knocked her over onto the cold, wet gravel.
Wendy's breath was knocked from her mostly from the surprise of it all, and she simply laid still and blinked for a moment. The boy was getting up and mumbling apologies.
"... I'm really sorry, Miss."
"I-I should hope so!" she sputtered angrily, "My dress is rui-" but her dress was forgotten as he bent over her with a sheepish expression on his very familiar face... his face was young and fair, with eyes of green-blue. His cap had fallen off, revealing untamable blonde hair. It was Peter Pan! Or no, it was not! It could not be.
"Are you alright?" he asked, putting his cap back on with one hand and helping her up with the other.
She could only nod dumbly, dazed. She stared at him quite inappropriately for a long moment. Yes, he looked alot like the Peter Pan she had known. Except he was much older, his skin was fairer, and he did not look quite as devilish. He looked... proper.
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked, cutting into her thoughts. Wendy felt the heat of a blush burn her ears and cheeks. He must have thought she was a fool, staring at him like a simpleton!
She opened her mouth to answer, but the shorter, plump boy interjected. "Of course she's not all right you big oaf!" he gave the tall boy a rather hard thud on the chest. The taller one barely flinched, looked down at Benton, and raised an eyebrow in a threatening way.
"Oh, all right." the chubby boy said dejectedly. He walked off, throwing an annoyed glance over his shoulder before attacking another boy with his 'sword'.
"Don't pay attention to him." The tall boy said with a crooked smile. "So..." he scratched his cap absent mindedly. "What's your name?"
"Wendy Moira Angela Darling." she answered automatically, still unable to tear her eyes away from him. This was too strange - to meet a boy with such similiarity to that Peter Pan she had made up so long ago!
"I'm Philip." he said casually, with a smile that seemed painfully familiar. "Johnson." he added quickly, remembering his manners.
"Do... do you have a brother, Philip?" she finally managed to ask. It was incredibly rude to just ask a question after introduction, but Wendy did not care at that precise moment.
"A brother?" he asked, obviously surprised. His eyes looked over her shoulder, and a distant look overcame them. "I had a brother, long ago," he said softly. His eyes found hers again, and his voice was firm. "But he is dead."