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

Author's Note: Here is a one-shot a bit different from what I usually write. Peter and Wendy may be a bit out of character; and it may seem unlikely this type of conversation between the two would happen in canon, but this idea was too tempting to pass up. Constructive criticism, comments, whatnot is more than welcomed!


Unknown Wish

Peter sat near the fire, staring intently down at his hands, before turning his head to stare at Wendy, who was starting to prepare supper. She paused when she noticed the almost puzzled look on his face.

"What is it, Peter?" Concern laced her words.

He blinked and looked down at his hands again. "Nothing," he shook his head.

Wendy bit her lip. She glanced at him occasionally as she resumed her cooking.

Peter twiddled his thumbs for a few moments before his eyes wandered back to Wendy. He tilted his head slowly to the left and then to the right a while later, studying her quizzically.

"Are you happy, Wendy?"

Surprised, the girl paused in cutting some tomatoes and met his questioning eyes. Uncertain what she was being asked about exactly, she said, "I am happy here, and with the children." She feared she had answered wrongly on seeing a troubled expression settle on the boy's face.

When he remained quiet, she asked him in return, "Are you happy, Peter?"

His hazel eyes bore into the ground as he thought for a minute. "Yes, I— No, oh, I do not know!" he groaned, running a hand through his messed curls, and looked back up at Wendy with a mix of pain and confusion.

She frowned in concern and could find no words; so she waited.

Peter dropped his head into his hands and shook it. "Sometimes I am happy with you here. Making pockets for the boys, telling such lovely stories. You are their mother…my mother."

A small smile came to Wendy's face.

"But then other times I'm…not. When I call you 'Mother'…it does not sound right." Peter looked at Wendy, a plea for understanding in his eyes. "When I call you 'Wendy-lady,' something inside me leaps, here." He brought a hand up to his chest.

Wendy's eyes widened slightly, and she caught her breath as she slowly began to understand Peter's words. She gripped the table tightly to keep from falling over. She fought to hide her growing shock and realization.

"It, it is not enough anymore to have you be my mother, my friend. I wish, I wish you were…," Peter's voice trailed off.

"W-what do you wish me to be?" Wendy whispered.

For a long time the two stared at each other: he hoping to find the key to his confusion and longing in her face; she wanting to help him, explain to him, but lacking courage.

Peter lowered his gaze. "I do not know. Sometimes when I'm asleep, a wish forms in my mind but vanishes before I can grasp it."

Wendy watched him silently. Her heart raced. Never had she dared allow herself to hope, to dream that Peter would want what she herself had wished for so long…

"It is not enough anymore," Peter said softly. "Do you know what it is that I wish? Can you make it come true, Wendy?" There was hope in his eyes.

Wendy wanted to smile, tell Peter she did know what he wished, and say it could come true. But something gave her pause. If their wishes became reality, would he change? Would he remain carefree, conceited, and cocky? Would Neverland, which centered on this magical boy, change? Or would fulfilling this wish be far more damaging?

At times she had wondered if Peter ever would grow up. Now, she mused if becoming a man would be too much for him. Would, as the years went on, all traces of the Boy Who Would Not Grow Up vanish, replaced by a young man consumed by the ways of the world? Would he forget he had once lived in a place called Neverland? Would all memories of that time be forgotten to him? Would he still be the Peter she loved? Or would he become a stranger to her?

"Wendy?"

She blinked and found Peter waiting still, watching her as though trying to read her thoughts. Slowly she came and knelt beside him.

"Perhaps it is not enough, but it must be," she said quietly, letting go of her own secret wish.

At seeing Peter's face fill with sadness and hurt, she gently kissed his forehead and returned to her work. A heavy silence fell as both children became lost in their own thoughts.

THE END