Peter Pan was unhappily perched, like the famous "Thinker" statue, on top of the oak tree that he and the Lost Boys lived in. The air was cold, but Peter, like all the boys, didn't notice. He never did until he caught ill. This might be his hundredth time in this position at this late time at night, perhaps even the thousandth.

It never used to be this way, Peter thought angrily. Peter used to always sleep inside, in his beloved bed. As the leader of the Lost Boys, he always got the best of everything. Peter wanted to go back inside and scream at the boys to stop, but, in his young heart he knew he couldn't.

The boys have been crying themselves to sleep every night. They never used to, but all of a sudden one night, a little after Jane's visit to Neverland, Tootles, the youngest lost boy, burst into tears. Peter grimaced at the memory.

He and the boys had just arrived back from a treasure hunt. The day, like every other, had been fun-filled. They came into their hideout same as always, made jokes, played pranks like always, before becoming sleepy. Peter, who had been telling a story about how he had defeated Hook to the twins, paused as he heard a sniffle from across the room. Peter frowned, started to continue, but stopped as Tootles burst into tears. The small boy looked pathetic in his little skunk outfit as tears ran down his face.

"Man up, Tootles!" exclaimed Peter from across the room. Being a boy for so long exaggerated his insensitivity. Tootles simply cried harder.

"What's wrong, Tootles?" asked Slightly curiously. Slightly was dressed as a fox, as all the Lost Boys were dressed as animals except for Peter. Slightly was thin, but tall, and often thought himself in second command to Peter, as well as better than any of the boys.

"Something's missing," sniffled Tootles.

All of a sudden, Cubby burst into tears. Peter stood up, irritated at the two.

"Do you honestly call yourselves Lost Boys? Men don't cry for no reason," he scolded.

The twins started sobbing loudly at Peter's remark. They wore matching raccoon costumes. The commotion brought Tinker Bell, a little fairy wearing a short green dress, out of her little hole and next to Peter. She shot him a perplexed look. All the boys, save Peter, were now crying. Slightly had finally joined in, unable to stay strong when all his best friends were upset. Peter had no idea what to do, but ordered them to bed figuring they were just tired. He struggled to sleep, often hearing a muffled sob or soft sniffling. Peter hated crying, whether he was crying or anybody else. He finally shrugged it off, went to bed and hoped the boys would follow suit.

Unfortunately, the next night, the exact same thing happened. Peter yelled at the boys, but nothing helped. Night after night they cried, leaving Peter to give up and go outside. He couldn't bear to hear it.

Tonight was just like many nights before. However, Peter had gotten fed up with it. He didn't know what they needed, but knew somebody who might. Jane, in London, would know what to do. Peter thought it over many times. As he sat, high above the island on top of the hideout, he knew what he had to do. He looked up at the starts.

Tinker Bell flew out of the hideout to her beloved Peter. Peter smiled at the sound of soft bells.

"Tink, listen," Peter explained, "Watch over the boys tonight. I have to go to London."

Tinker Bell, normally stubborn and unwilling to listen to Peter when he didn't want her to come along, simply nodded. Something was happening, and Tink could sense it. All she could do was hope Peter Pan would fix it.

Peter shot Tinker Bell one last look, before flying out to London. The way was very familiar, after all he must have flown to London many times before. Peter didn't like London much, too many adults, but different children living there were useful as different playmates.

Before long, Peter could make out the familiar shape of London. Peter flew to Big Ben and looked over the great city from the hands of the giant clock. It was dark, but lights from the city reassured Peter that the city was alive. He looked to where he had let Jane out to go home a long time ago. Peter had no idea how long it had been, he never did. Hopefully it was Jane he found, and not her daughter. Peter thought briefly of Wendy, how she had went and grown up without him. He shook his head, trying to clear away the thought of growing up. It scared him to death.

Peter finally took a deep breath and flew to the balcony of Jane's room. Or at least he supposed it had been Jane's room; Peter really had no idea. He looked through the window and saw a shape lying on the seat in front of the window.

Carefully, he opened the window from the outside. The figure lying on the seat was an adult, a woman, although young. Peter scowled, a wave of dislike coursed through him. The woman, although an adult, seemed familiar. Peter flew inside to get a close look at her. She had strawberry blonde hair, like Jane did. Her face had the same features, yet more mature.

"Jane?" Peter asked loudly.

The woman's eyes opened and she quickly sat up, startled. Her eyes widened at the sight of Peter floating above her head. Her mouth gaped open. Peter, becoming impatient, spoke again: "Are you Jane?"

"Peter Pan!" exclaimed the woman, a smile lighting up her face.

For one brief moment Jane was a child again, excited at the sight of her old friend. The moment passed, and Jane was back to her grown-up self.

"You've grown up," accused Peter.

"Yes, Peter, I have," Jane agreed, "You're much smaller than I remember."

"I didn't grow up," said Peter, as if he were better than her.

Jane smiled. Peter was the exact same since the first time she ever met him.

"It's good to see you, Peter," said Jane, "Why are you here?"

"I—I needed you to fix something for me. But you've grown up…"

"Well what's the problem?" asked Jane, concerned for the boy.

"The Lost Boys. They've been crying every night and I don't know how to stop it!" exclaimed Peter.

Peter was very irritated. Seeing Jane had grown up without him almost pushed him over the edge, but his memory of his time with her kept him from angrily flying off into the night.

"Did you ask them why they were crying?" asked Jane reasonably.

"Um…" Peter frowned, "Tootles said something was missing."

"Do you have any idea what it might be?" asked Jane.

"No!" yelled Peter.

He stopped hovering above Jane and angrily sat on the ground.

"Peter you should be quiet! You may wake my parents and Danny," scolded Jane.

"You're just like the rest of them! A grown-up!" said Peter.

"Well everybody has to grow up sometime, Peter," reasoned Jane.

"Not me," muttered Peter.

"That may be it!" exclaimed Jane.

Peter cocked his head in confusion. He didn't understand girls at all to begin with, so grown-up girls were completely impossible for him to comprehend.

"What?" asked Peter.

"The solution to your problem!" answered Jane.

"How?"

"Don't you see?" explained Jane, "Something's missing from the boys. Everybody needs to grow up sometime, Peter. The boys are missing life, they're missing the chance to grow up and get on with their lives!"

Peter shook with anger. How dare she suggest they grow up?

"You're wrong, Jane. Time has passed, even if they wanted to go back they'd have no place to go. Besides, they know they can't grow up. Why cry over it now?" challenged Peter.

"Peter, I know this is hard for you to understand—"

"I understand everything!" boasted Peter.

"You don't. That's the price you pay for staying young forever. The Lost Boys, deep down, sense it's time to move on. They can't stay lost forever. Bring them to London. I have no doubt my mother would take them in," suggested Jane.

"Wendy could be their mother?" asked Peter.

Peter essentially believed a mother was everything good in the world; he knew Wendy would be a great mother to the boys. Peter was overwhelmed; tears filled his eyes and he angrily turned and wiped them away. It was as if Jane was suggesting he end his perfect life and end his childhood. And Peter knew she was right, but he couldn't bear it.

"Oh, Peter," said Jane sadly.

She came and gave him a hug. For a moment he hugged back, comforted by her.

"Jane…" Peter hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"I'm getting married next week," stated Jane suddenly, indicating her left ring-finger, "Peter I've never been happier in all my life, if I hadn't grown up I never would have felt this. My childhood was happy, the time I spent with you was happy, and I'll remember those times forever, pass on those times to my own children one day. But you see, Peter, everybody must move on. It's what we, as human beings, do. It's an adventure in itself—that's what you boys are about: adventure."

Peter listened thoughtfully to Jane. His stubbornness still made him unhappy about growing up, but Jane was talking sense. He brightened at an idea.

"Maybe just the Lost Boys need to grow up! I can always bring new children to Neverland," said Peter.

Jane shook her head.

"Peter, I think you might need to grow up most of all," she observed.

"I NEVER NEED TO GROW UP!" exclaimed Peter, "besides, what about Tinker Bell?"

"She can't stay in Neverland?" asked Jane.

"No! Fairies don't live in Neverland," said Peter as if it were obvious.

"Doesn't Tink know where she came from?"

"She would never go back. Girls like to stay around me, in fact."

Jane almost rolled her eyes. Peter hadn't changed at all.

"Peter," said Jane, "You need to explain to Tinker Bell she needs to move on. She can't stay in London with you and the boys. There's no place for a fairy here."

"Maybe I don't want to," said Peter.

"Peter, trust me, you have to. And you can't wait long, you can't keep track of time in Neverland. If you take too long neither I nor my mother will be around anymore."

This scared Peter. He couldn't imagine Wendy gone, even though he hadn't seen her in so long. She could be his mother. Suddenly Peter had the eerie sense that he knew what to do.

"I'll go to Neverland and bring the Lost Boys here. Then I'll go back, say good-bye to the Mermaids and Indians and take Tink back to where she came from. Then—I'll come here."

Peter became less sad as he thought out his plan. It was a little adventure, just like he had in Neverland.

"Say hi to Tinker Bell for me!" said Jane.

"I will!" said Peter, "I would let her come along, but I'm afraid she'll talk me out of leaving the boys here."
"You're doing the right thing, Peter," remarked Jane," I think you have grown up a little already."

Peter frowned at that, then went out on the balcony. He looked back at Jane: the grown-up Jane, who he shouldn't know, but still did. She waved, he gave a nod, and flew out into the night sky. Peter set course toward Neverland: his home.

Jane watched Peter as he flew away, still unsure if he had been a dream. Perhaps the anxiety about her wedding had caused a hallucination. She saw him disappear, heading to the second star to the right. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep, hoping with all her heart that Peter Pan and Neverland were real.