Saving Mr. Darling

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Peter Pan or any related titles, characters, plots, settings, etc. These rights are the propety of J.M. Barrie, the Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital, and various publishers and distributors. I own only the orginal elements of this story, the writing and publishing of which earn me no money.


Chapter Three

1899

George held the tiny bundle close to his chest, marveling at the delicate miniature hands and face and… well, everything. His heart clenched and he staggered back into a seat beside the bed, likely the one used by the midwife while everyone waited for the labor to truly begin.

"George?" Mary asked. "Are you quite all right?"

It was a ridiculous question, of course. Mary had just given birth to her first child - their first child - and here she was inquiring after his health.

"I-" George had to pause for a moment to gulp back tears. "I have a daughter."

Mary's face fell slightly. "Are you terribly disappointed? Most men wish to have a son as their firstborn…"

"Never," George denied fiercely. "Little boys can be cruel and wild. I would like a son eventually, but for now…" A miniature fist waved in the vicinity of his shoulder and George's heart clenched once more. "... now, I am thrilled to have a daughter."

"Oh, George," Mary said, and he could hear the smile even through the weariness in her voice. He leaned forward to drop a kiss on her lips, a kiss that Mary returned with such a great amount of love that George's abused heart ached with the feeling. "Come sit beside me, won't you? I want nothing more than to be close to my husband with our daughter between us."

Gingerly, he settled onto the bed beside his wife. They were far from alone in their comfortable home. The midwife and various nurses still scurried around, fetching things and applying medicines to Mary's abused body, but none of the Darlings minded their presence.

George and Mary sat watching their daughter for hours, cooing and exclaiming over every little thing she did. She was scarcely six hours old before they had decided that she was simply the cleverest, prettiest, and most energetic child that had ever been born.

The medical staff - when they had a moment to speak privately among themselves - unanimously agreed on three things: first, the Darlings did have a beautiful baby daughter. Second, the young couple were deeply in love. Finally, they could all agree that Wendy Darling would grow up with every blessing her parents could bestow.


1895

"Why, if it isn't George Darling!"

George stood and turned to the door before giving a stiff and formal bow. "Hello, sir. It is a pleasure to see you once more."

Clarence Topple stood in the doorway, a befuddled look on his wrinkle-lined face. He roared with laughter after only moments. "Georgie, you haven't changed one bit!"

Doing his best to look offended, George dropped his proper attitude and said, "That is a plain falsehood, sir! I've been gone for years. I feel I've changed a great deal."

"Ah, but they didn't manage to beat the willful streak of mischief from your person," Clarence chided, wagging a finger in George's direction. "You always could say the most unbelievable things without a hint of them on your face!"

"Skills you learn as a beggar," George answered with a shrug.

"Well, tell me of the last decade," Clarence encouraged. "What have you done, what have you seen?"

"I attended school for three years, as you well know," George said, smiling at the memory of Clarence bidding him goodbye as he moved to Ireland to help open a museum in Dublin. "In the time since, I've opened branches for several different museums and one finally made me an offer I could accept. I move back to London within the week."

"The week!" Clarence cried. "Splendid! You must come with me tonight in celebration!"

"Oh, I could not," George denied tactfully. "I have only just arrived in town and have yet to find suitable lodging for the night, let alone a more permanent situation."

"Allow me to assist," Clarence offered, looking thoughtful. "I know a charming place. Very affordable and quite conveniently located."

"And where is this perfect place?" George asked, battling against a smile.

"Here, of course! I cannot fill every room of this house and we are close enough to London that you should be able to travel to your new position at the museum with little difficulty."

"Will you at least permit me to pay you?" There was little use in fighting with Clarence when he had gotten hold of an idea, George knew that much. Else he would still likely be a beggar on the streets of London, if not entirely dead.

"I certainly would not have you stay with me for free," Clarence lied. "I shall come up with a suitable amount for rent and pass the number along shortly."

"Thank you, Clarence," George said, deciding that graceful acceptance was far better than the alternative.

"Since you no longer need to find a place, I assume you will accompany me to my meeting this evening?" George hesitated and Clarence pressed with a grin, "As I have just offered my home to you without limit of time…"

"Very well," George groaned, fighting a smile of his own.

"Splendid! Wear your best suit."

"My best- Clarence, where are we going?"

"To a ball, of course!"

Despite George's protests, Clarence's carriage pulled up to a large, crowded estate that evening, bearing both gentlemen in their best outfits.

"Whose home is this?" George muttered as subtly as he could.

"Sir Roger Lewis," Clarence muttered back. "His daughter is being launched into society this evening."

"Sir Lewis?" George asked incredulously. "And how does the good sir feel about you bringing a stranger with no relations to his daughter's ball?"

"I expect he'll enjoy it a great deal," Clarence assured. "Roger has a wicked sense of humor, a great deal of wealth, and far too many daughters. This is his youngest and - as this should be his last ball of this type - he should be of good cheer. Besides, Roger is a distinguished member of the Society for the Protection and Education of Orphans. He's one of the most dedicated benefactors. Your benefactor, as it happens."

George stared outright. "My-"

"Your benefactor," Clarence confirmed. "Roger always took an interest in native culture and the story of our meeting tickled him to no end. He is the one who supplied the funds for you to attend school."

There was little time for George to decide how he felt about that, let alone tell Clarence, for they were approaching the man himself and his daughter.

"Greetings, Sir Roger Lewis," Clarence announced, grasping the man's hand for a firm shake. He moved to his daughter next, holding her hand and performing a sweeping bow over it. "My lady."

"Clarence!" Sir Roger boomed. "I did not order a performing monkey, but I suppose, as you are already here…"

"Do not embarrass me before my friends," Clarence ordered, gesturing to George. "He has done little to deserve immediate exposure to your unkind nature."

"And who is this?" Sir Roger asked, blue eyes sweeping George up and down. George had to admit that the man was distinguished. His suit likely cost more than George's annual salary and he wore it like he had been born to do so.

Rather than allow Clarence to make his introductions, George offered his hand for a shake. "George Darling, sir."

"George Darling?" Sir Roger cried, wringing George's hand until his fingers grew numb. "A pleasure to finally meet you, my boy! I thoroughly enjoyed reading reports of your lessons. How you knew so much more about native history and piracy, I'll never know, but I'm certainly glad you argued with those pompous instructors. All of my own sons were damnably well-behaved, never fighting back against a teacher. Not that they knew much beyond what they learned in their off-study time, mind you-"

The young woman beside him cleared her throat gently. "Father…"

"Oh, my apologies, Mary," Sir Roger said. "George Darling, allow me to present my youngest daughter, Mary Lewis."

George took her hand and raised it to press his lips against her knuckle. "A pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Mary returned, smiling down at him.

Clarence towed George away then, as there were others who wished to greet their host and his lovely daughter. George was in a bit of a daze. Mary was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with her father's blue eyes set above becomingly-pink cheeks. Her silver-hued dress served to draw attention to a trim waist, graceful arms, and pale brown hair.

Seeming to sense that George was no longer aware of his surroundings, Clarence chatted away happily about the house, the food, the music… But his nonsensical speech cut off entirely when they were approached by Mary Lewis.

"Pardon me, sir," she said politely to Clarence. "My father said to tell you that he has not finished mocking the cut of your jacket and wishes for you to return to him."

Clarence chortled. "Wiley old fellow. I shall go to him directly, thank you Mary. George, why don't you remain here and entertain Miss Lewis with a dance? There is no reason for either of you to witness the impending verbal brawl."

With squared shoulders and a mischievous grin, Clarence walked away, leaving George and Mary to watch each other in silence.

Mary was the first to speak. "Would you care to dance?"

Years of intensive etiquette training kicked in with a vengeance and George bowed, offering a hand to Mary. "I believe that is my line, Miss Lewis. I would very much care to dance."

She placed a delicate hand in his, giving a demure, heart-stopping smile as she did so. As they stepped onto the dance floor, George could not help but wonder what Peter and Tink would have made of Mary.

The thought was knocked clear as she said, "Father told me that you were part of the organization he helps."

"Yes, I was," George affirmed. His beginnings were no source of shame for him. "I was orphaned at a young age and wandered the streets as a beggar until Clarence took me in."

"How terrible," Mary murmured, face filled with sympathy and pity.

Suddenly struck by the urge to prove his worth to her, George said, "Thanks to your father, I attended the best of schools. I have overseen the openeding of museums in Ireland for the past few years and I am to start a position curating a museum here in London next week."

"Ah, so you will stay in London?"

"For the foreseeable future," George agreed, and found himself smiling at her as she returned the expression.

"I am certain my father would like to see you and Clarence often," she offered.

"Then you and I are likely to often be in each other's company," he replied. "Perhaps we should form an early acquaintance by dancing together for the remainder of the evening?"

"It does seem the only logical solution," she agreed and they settled in for a pleasant evening of dancing and conversation.

George did not think of Peter Pan or Captain Hook or Neverland for the rest of the night.


1903

It was peculiar how, after having had children, one could wake from a dreamless sleep at the smallest sound from a child.

Mary shifted into half-wakefulness, swinging her feet out of their bed to go see to Wendy, but George stilled her with a hand on her shoulder. "Go back to sleep, Mary. I'll go see what she needs."

Mary settled back into the bed with a murmured thanks and George kissed her cheek before he stood. Mary was extremely pregnant with their second child and he could not bear to see her get even less sleep than she already did.

When George entered Wendy's room, his four-year-old daughter was huddled in her bed, crying as though her little heart were breaking.

"What is the matter, my Darling?" George asked, using the small in-joke he maintained with his wife and daughter.

"There was a noise," Wendy said, pointing to the window.

"It was likely a tree, brushing against the pane in a breeze," George told her, but Wendy was not convinced.

"It was a monster," she insisted.

George gathered her up and went to sit in the room's rocking chair. From it, they had a clear view of the window, but were not so close as to scare Wendy further.

"There was no monster, my little dove. It was only Peter Pan."

Wendy asked, eyes wide, "Who is Peter Pan?"

George feigned shock. "Who is Peter Pan? Why, Wendy! Have I never told you about Peter Pan?"

"No," she breathed. "Who is he?"

"He's a little boy who flies about the world, checking on the children and making sure he is never forgotten."

"He flies?" Wendy asked, mouth hanging open in her fascination.

"Oh, yes," George said with a nod. "Peter can fly with the help of Tinkerbell, his fairy companion, who supplies him with all of the pixie dust he needs."

"Does he live in London?"

"No, Peter lives in a place called Neverland. It's just there, the second star to the right and straight on 'til morning."

Wendy followed where George pointed, staring at the night sky with fascination on her face, the fear evaporated entirely.

"What is it like in Neverland?"

George settled onto the cushion of the window seat and told his daughter all about Neverland, and the Lost Boys, and oddly helpful pirates, and the wondrous little boy who had changed - perhaps even saved - his life.


Author's Note - And that is the end of this story! This one was a little confusing with the time jumps, but I'll explain more about that below. For now, thank you for reading! This story is not the longest or most plot-driven that I've ever written, but it was a fun piece to work on and it warmed my heart a little to see Mr. Darling and his daughter have an actual parent-child bond. Besides, Clarence Topple has strangely become one of my favorite OCs I've ever written. He's just so energetic!

Now for the promised explanation: I use fanfiction to sharpen my writing skills, so each story I publish focuses on a few styles or literary devices that I would like to get better at. This one was disordered time/flashbacks and flashes forward, as well as working on the strange Victorian/Edwardian style of writing used by so many authors in the late 1800s and early 1900s. If you have any advice on improving those skills further, please let me know!

Okay, we're officially done, friends! Thank you so much for reading this story, and feel free to let me know what you thought or if you have any advice or questions. Have a purely magical day!