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Leaf	By : Mek Category: M through R > Peter Pan Views: 1607 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is an original work of fan fiction based on the original stage play: Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. Any resemblance to actual people, events or similar fan fictions is entirely coincidental.

Chapter List
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Believing in the Impossible
Children often have the strangest adventures without ever being troubled by them. For instance, they may remember to mention a week after the event happened, about the unicorn they rode on the beach, or man they met in the woods who taught them of leud and fanciful erotic things. The whole point of telling a story is for it to be listened to, for it is utterly frustrating when no one pays any attention. A good story needs to be believed too, to get the most attention it must at least be believable, and to be believable it really helped if the teller of the story believed it too. No one would have believed that Leaf had seen a boy fly, not in a million years.
It could not be true, she determined. It was surely impossible and yet she could have sworn that she had seen him fly with her very own eyes. But that was just fiction, fantasies that her grandmother made up, or perhaps her great grandmother before that. They were bedtime stories that had been told many times, told by mothers to their children and grandchildren for more years than Leaf knew to count. No one could fly, not really, only superheroes in comic books and the movies could do that and they were just made up. Perhaps Peter Pan was made up, a dream or mere figment of her overly active imagination. Leaf sat upon the antique cushioned stool that sat beneath the windowsill, the same stool she had often seen her mother sit upon for hours staring out of the window as though she were waiting for something, or someone.
“Don’t worry dear.” Leaf heard someone say. “He’ll come back.” She thought for a moment or two that the voice had been her own, or at least one of the voices inside her head. She listened to her inner voices sometimes, but she was in no mood to solicit her conscience and so she only shrugged and considered returning to bed. It was in turning from the window, back towards her bed that she spotted the movement of a small light upon the upturned toy box. The wooden chest was an heirloom passed down from one generation of children to the next, yet in the dozen years that she had known it Leaf had never noticed that it was fitted with a light. The way it moved was even more unusual though and she blinked at it. “He won’t go far.”
“What?” Leaf blinked again in surprise. The glowing light dimmed and brightened, and as she looked closer Leaf could see something flickering behind it, like a pair of wings fluttering in the breeze. Reflexively she stepped backwards, uncertain whether it was normal or if some kind of bug had crawled into the room. Leaf had no great affinity for insects, especially spiders, but they did not usually scare her. This one had caught her off guard though, and it sounded remarkably as though the glowing little critter was talking to her.
“I said, Peter can’t go far without his shadow.” The voice from the light replied. “They may not be attached, but they are tied to each other in a way. He’ll miss it sooner or later.” It was distinctly not her own voice although it did have a melodic feminine tone. Leaning closer, Leaf looked down upon a tiny figure sat coquettish upon the edge of the wooden box with four small wings stretched out behind it. Gradually her eyes adjusted to the lime green light and the creature became clearer, like a miniature woman perched amorously cross legged, only a couple of inches tall and who appeared to be filing her fingernails.
“Tinkerbelle?” Leaf asked uncertainly. It was just a guess. She had heard Peter calling that name and it seemed a logical assumption. In truth, she wasn’t confident in her pronunciation, but she felt as though the name was right and like Peter, the name had a strange familiarity for her, as if it had been tucked deep into the recesses of her memory like those old stories she had been told. Imagine a map of a person’s mind. Doctors sometimes draw maps of brains and other body parts, and they can become intensely interesting. But try and catch them attempting to draw a map of a child’s mind, which is not only confused, but keeps going round all the time. Her thoughts were so muddled that they were like two aircraft going round and round an island, crossing this way and that but never meeting because all were going at the same rate. This was the state in which Leaf felt. She was still clinging to the notion that all those stories were just fiction, but evidence to the contrary was sat right before her, rolling their eyes and shaking their tiny head.
“He calls us that.” The winged nymph sighed. “It’s not a name, you know. Peter says it affectionately and I mean, there probably was a Tinkerbelle once long ago, but it’s just…” The little voice trailed off as the nail file was swapped from one hand to their other. “It’s racist. Most faeries get very offended by it.”
“I see. I’m sorry.” Leaf replied sympathetically, although not entirely sure she understood. There had been a lot of talk about social equality and accepting diversity that was reasonable to her, but she didn’t really see why people were getting so upset about things that were trying to make the world fair for everybody. It seemed like common sense to her, and yet it was all rather awkward. She tried a more cheerful tone. “Well, what is your name?”
“Chrystabelle.” She answered appreciatively, looking up from her nails at last and smiling. “At your service.” In saying so, she placed her hands together, the tiny file sticking up between them, and just as Peter had, she bowed her head. The movement was less elaborate than Peter’s bow, but it caused the air around her to jingle, exactly like the bells Leaf thought she had heard earlier.
“And you’re really a fairy?” Leaf inquired, questioning everything she believed the world to be and what she had thought only fictional. Stories that seemed made up from pure fantasy, of strange distant islands and magical creatures, were making her wonder what other amazing things were actually true.
“You do believe in faeries.” Chrystabelle’s brow furrowed rapidly from its previous nonchalant mood and Leaf felt the Faerie’s sharp, piercing glare dig into her soul. “Don’t you Darling girl?”
“Yes, I do.” She replied thoughtfully, remembering what little she knew about faeries. It is frightfully difficult to know much about the faeries, and almost the only thing for certain is that there are fairies wherever there are children. In a perfect world there ought to be a fairy for every girl and boy. All that Leaf was aware of though, was that whenever someone says ‘I don't believe in fairies’ there might just be a little faerie somewhere that falls right down dead, and she did not like to think she could ever cause harm to an innocent creature. So many her age did not believe, they all thought they knew so much, learned everything they understood from the internet, YouTube and television that they couldn’t believe in anything else. “I do, but you’re the first one I’ve met.”
“That’s Obvious.” The faerie giggled at Leaf’s expectant, wide eyed expression. “Oh young thing, don’t get your hopes up. We Fae are not nearly as prim and proper as Disney would have you believe. Trust me Leigh-Fleur, if Peter didn’t pay so well, I definitely wouldn’t be doing this job.” Leaf frowned in confusion as she recalled all the faeries from those old stories, Pinocchio, Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella, the Sugar Plum Fairy and of course the Tooth Fairy too. The tinkling sound grew louder as Chrystabelle sighed. “We Faeries live only a very short time, but when you know as much about the world as we do, you’ll soon understand it is best to live for yourself as hard and as fast as you can.”
“If that’s true, why did he run away when I…” She pouted. “I kissed him.” It had been an impulse that had driven her to do it, a desire for physical comfort that she had not felt before and had no idea where it had come from.
“Darling child, you did more than that.” The faerie laughed, uncrossing her legs and crossing them again. The emerald shimmer of Chrystabelle’s dark skin had looked deceivingly like material, a miniature catsuit perhaps, but that wasn’t the case at all. Leaf caught herself staring at more than her mind was prepared to see. “A kiss is a powerful thing. But to touch him…” She hesitated. “To Peter it wasn’t fair you see, it wasn’t on his terms.”
“Oh, I… I thought…” Leaf blushed, her face turning a bright shade of crimson. “Now he’s gone. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?
“Or forgetful.” Chrystabelle replied dryly. “After you have been unfair to him, he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness, it makes us grow up.”
“Not Peter. He never wants to grow up, not ever.” Leaf replied stubbornly, embarrassed that the faerie had seen everything.
“Peter has suffered many tragedies” The other said evenly. “For every glimmer of happiness in this world, there’s always someone who wants to destroy it, and even children can carry heavy burdens too. He has loved many times and he has forgotten them all.”
“Well, I won’t forget.” Leaf declared with solemn determination. “I shall hold him in my heart until I can hold him in my arms”
“If I could have had him, I could have let him go. But without the having there was nothing, so to the nothing I shall hold.” Chrystabelle stated as though reciting a quote from a poem. “Do you see that star?” She asked, pointing out of the window. Leaf turned to look. ““The second star to the right shines in the night just for you. It is the Darling star, the star of your ancestors. It shines to tell you that the dreams you have really can come true.” The faerie explained. “You have to work hard for it though. You can have anything in life my dear, if you are prepared to sacrifice everything else for it.”
Leaf shrugged. She like to think that nothing was final and that everyone gets to be together even when it looks like there is no hope for any of them. That it all works out even when all the evidence seems to say something else. They would always be young and in love, just like in all the movies, and even those that leave will come back again some time. Leaf had no idea what love was, or anything like it in truth, and she could not be sure if she would discover it with Peter, but she wanted the chance to try.
“It’s not such a wonderful thing to be young.” Leaf said after a while of silence had passed between them.
“Life is like that, I guess.” Chrystabelle agreed. “Everything feels fine and then around the corner is waiting a something that will forever alter the fabric of your existence. All children grow up one way or another, or die, or both.” She sighed nonchalantly as she looked up. “All children, except one.”
“To die will be an awfully big adventure.” A familiar voice said over Leaf’s shoulder. “But growing up is such a barbarous business, full of rules and inconvenience.” He declared. “And pimples.”
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Leaf