1.

Wendy awoke, feeling sluggish. She rose from her covers, blinking in the morning light. Around her lay her two brothers, John and Michael. They must have climbed into my bed during the night, she mused, stroking back Michael's paper-thin hair from his closed eyes. Night. Last night... it all came back as Wendy stared out her window, where the sun was shining through sending a magnificent rainbow of colors across her bed. She distinctly remembered a boy, wandering into her bedroom with a tear-soaked face, thumping around without so much as an apology for waking her.

"What's the matter?" Wendy had asked, crouching down to where he sat, grumbling to himself. He looked up at her, and she was momentarily stunned by his striking ocean-blue eyes.

"My shadow won't stick to me."

It sounded utterly preposterous to her, but Wendy gave him a sympathetic look all the same. "Where is your shadow then, if it is not stuck to you?"

The boy raised one hand, pointing his index finger to the far corner of her bedroom. "There; he's being quite stubborn."

If she hadn't seen the black figure, lounging there on the floor, Wendy would have laughed in his face. But she did see, and her eyes widened at the mere sight of it. Beside it, the young boy was wiping away stray tears and standing up, screaming at his shadow. "You get over here this instance!" he motioned to where he stood, his brow furrowed and lip pouted out. "Or else I will leave you behind and go back to Never Land myself!"

"Never Land?" Wendy had repeated incredulously. "There's no such place!"

The boy frowned at her, distracted from his cries at his shadow. "There is too! I live there! You can come visit if you'd like!"

Wendy laughed, placing her hands in her lap "You must live here, in London! My father has a driver; he would take you home if you asked nicely."

He didn't understand; she could tell by the look he was giving her. "London? That's not a real place! Never Land is! You're making things up."

"I am not!" Wendy was done laughing. She stood up, leaning against her wardrobe. "This is London! See that, outside?" she pointed towards the window, at the clock tower right outside her window. "That's Big Ben! It's in the heart of London!"

"Big Ben?" he repeated, pronouncing each word as if it were foreign. "All I see is the second star to the right; that's the way to Never Land!"

"Again with the Never Land!" Wendy cried, throwing her hands up. "I must tell you that though you seem perfectly alright in your head I am having second thoughts about your sanity!"

Without saying anything, the boy suddenly leapt, and rather than crumple to the ground, he stayed in the air, hovering not three feet above Wendy. He placed his hands firmly above him on the ceiling, grinning down at her. "Now do you believe me?" he asked, winking. She gapped at him, unsure what to believe anymore. Before she could speak, there was a noise from the other end of the room; at the same time, Wendy and the boy looked over to see the black shadow knocking its knee against John's bed. He awoke with a start, looking around the room with an alarmed face. His eyes landed on the two people, sitting in the middle of the room.

"Wendy? What are you doing? And who is that?"

"I'm Peter, Peter Pan." The boy stood, jabbing his index finger into his chest. "And I am trying to capture my shadow."

"Your shadow?" John reached for his glasses off his night table, placing them over the bridge of his nose and squinting at Peter. "Isn't your shadow supposed to be attached to you?"

"Yes, but he is very stubborn that shadow of mine. Care to help me catch it?"

John looked from Peter to his sister, his eyes wide. She didn't know what to tell him; what do you tell someone that explains the reason a boy is hovering in the middle of your bedroom? She shrugged feebly, wishing she could explain. She was the oldest; it's her responsibility to know everything that is happening, and not knowing what was happening in her own bedroom made her anxious. Suddenly, Peter dropped from the air, landing with a thud on his shadow.

"Gotcha!" he cried, struggling to keep a hold on the ankle of the black figure.

"Peter!" Wendy reached for him, but was thrown back as she received a kick to her stomach from the shadow. She managed to get back on her feet, glaring at the fight happening before her. "Stop it! Stop it right now! You will wake my parents and then we will ALL be in trouble!" at once, the two boys...er...boy and shadow, stopped their wrestling to listen. Wendy strained her ears, listening as well. There was the faint sound of young Michael's heavy breathing, and then, the loud snoring from down the hall where her parents slept. Wendy exhaled with relief. "Now, Peter, grab a hold of your shadow and bring him over here."

The shadow struggled, but Peter dragged him over to where Wendy stood, rummaging in her bureau until she found her sewing kit. "Now hold still." She ordered them both, and Peter obliged, keeping a strong hold on his shadow. She threaded black string through the needle, and sewed the toes of the shadow back onto Peter's odd looking shoes. When she was finished, Wendy stood up, and smiled at her work. "There; now you're back together."

Peter tested his shadow, dancing on the spot and watching as his shadow did the same on the wall beside him. He looked to Wendy, who was watching with wondering eyes. "Thank you...?"

"It's Wendy." She said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "And you're welcome."

As if waking up again, Wendy blinked, focusing her eyes on her brother's sleeping bodies, lying across her legs. "Boys, Michael, John! Wake up!" she shook them gently, watching as they slowly awoke.

"Wendy?" Michael asked sleepily, rubbing at his eyes with one hand while the other held his bear. "Where are the Lost Boys?"

She smiled sadly, remembering the boys in Never Land who helped them defeat Captain Hook:

Flying high above Never Land, in search for Tinker Bell, Wendy wasn't looking at the green land below her. She searched the skies alone for the sparkle of Tink's dust, hoping she'd find her before Peter got mad. As she flew, Wendy failed to hear the pubescent voices calling from the land. "Ready...aim...fire!"

At once, rocks and wood clubs flew, hitting her in the stomach and sending her spiralling towards the ground. Wendy screamed, trying her hardest to remember how to fly again. She couldn't. Before she could land on the rocks below her, someone's arm wound underneath her waist, and the other grabbed onto her hand. Wendy's speedy descent towards the ground slowed, and then she landed softly, and safely, still in Peter Pan's arms.

"Peter!" Wendy had exclaimed, grasping onto his neck. "You saved my life!"

He set her down, and then they both looked towards the mouth of the forest, where a clutter of young boys were appearing, waving sling shots in the air. "Hey Pete!" one called out, dressed in fox skin, as if it were a robe. "I got her with my skull blaster!" the other's pushed him out of the way, protesting that they were the ones who hit Wendy with their weapons.

"Attention!" Peter demanded, placing his hands on his hips with a furious sweeping gaze across the young boys. "Well!" he flashed them a smile. "I am certainly proud of you...block heads!" the smile vanished from his face, as well as the proud looks the boys had been wearing. "I bring you a mother to tell you stories, and you shoot her down!"

A plump boy wearing bear skin began to cry. "Tink said it was a bird!"

"Tink said what?" Peter turned to look at them, confused. Wendy felt her cheeks flush with anger as she realized this entire fiasco had been sabotage. Another boy pointed to where the tiny fairy was slowly retreating into the forest, tears in his eyes as well.

"She said you said to shoot it down!"

Peter glared in her direction. "Tinker Bell; don't you know you might have killed her?"

She stopped her retreat, and looked at him, nodding quickly with a sly smile. Wendy gasped, a hand flying to her chest. Tinker Bell WANTED her dead? She glared at the tiny fairy, wishing she would just leave and let her read the young boys their stories. Peter seemed furious as well.

"Tinker Bell!" he exclaimed. "I hereby banish you forever!"

Wendy softened slightly, watching as Tinker Bell flew off in a huff. "Please, not forever." She pleaded to Peter, grasping onto his upper arm.

"Well..." Peter reconsidered. "For a week, then. Come on, Wendy, I'll show you the island."

"We're home, Michael, and they are at their home." She touched his forehead as he digested that, frowning at her.

"No, they came home with us. All of them! Mommy and daddy said they would adopt them, and..." he trailed off, looking around the room with a confused face. "They aren't here! Where are they, Wendy?" he crawled towards her, shaking his tiny head. "Wendy! Did Captain Hook come back?" She didn't answer, her face losing its color. Hook...Captain Hook...

Wendy looked around the cave, examining the wet walls as Peter played with the small, stout Pirate, Smee. He laughed, speaking into his hat as if speaking as Captain Hook. She tried laughing along, but couldn't stop glancing at the entrance of the cave, worried to see the Pirate himself enter and draw out a sword. She had been excited when Peter offered to show her the island, but the excitement began to fade as worry replaced it. Not only that, but she had also witnessed a kidnapping; the young Indian girl, Tiger Lily,l was tied up to her neck, in the process of being saved by Peter from Smee. He'd tricked the Pirate into believing that not only was he Hook, but as well, he gave Smee orders to take the young girl right back to her village.

"Right away, Captain Hook!" Smee saluted to the empty cave, thinking that Hook was somewhere in the depths barking orders.

As he began to leave, Wendy glanced up at the peak inside the cave, spotting Peter's green shoe. She smiled to herself, amused as he pranced around as if he really were Hook. "Mr. Smee!" he called down to the water, where Smee was retreating in his row boat with the tied Tiger Lily. Except now, he'd stopped his retreat and was lowering the young girl into the water. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

"Putting her back like you said, Captain!"

From her place behind a large rock, Wendy frowned to herself, rethinking that he had said. When did Peter ever tell him to put her back? His orders to Smee had been for him to take her to her village; that could only mean one thing... someone else besides Peter, Wendy, and the young girl was in this cave. And she had a sinking feeling that it was a pirate.

"I said nothing of the sort!" Peter protested. "For the last time, Mr. Smee, take the Princess back to her people! Oh, and one more thing; when you return to the ship, tell the whole crew to help themselves to me best rum!"

Wendy stood, peeking over the top of the rock and straining to see where Peter sat. As she did so, she caught sight of a tall man in a red overcoat, wearing a large hat with a feather inside of it, reaching out with his arm right above Peter's head. Wendy squinted, and saw that on the end of his arm was not a hand, but in fact a hook! She cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted as loud as she could, "Peter!"

He ducked just in time to miss Captain Hook's swinging hook, piercing the rock Peter lounged on rather than Peter himself. Flying around the cave, Peter began to laugh, twirling up to the top and grinning down at the Pirate below him. "Watch this, Wendy!"

"Oh Peter do be careful!" she cried, watching as he descended from the top, heading right for the captain.

Peter teased him, dodging his wild swings of his sword, laughing all the while as if he weren't in grave danger. He twirled around the rock Hook stood on, wiggling his fingers at the Pirate. "Right here, Mr. Smee!" he shouted, hovering right in front of the captain as Smee pulled out a small gun from the waist band of his pants. Smee obeyed, readying the gun and himself for the blow.

"Hold it, you-" there was no time for Hook to stop him; Smee fired the gun, and it threw Hook off the rock. As he fell, his hat stayed in the air long enough for Peter to grab it and place it on his own head. He began using the same voice he had before while tricking Smee.

"Oh what a pity, Mr. Smee!" he called down to the pirate. "I'm afraid we've lost our dear captain."

He turned quickly, and frightened the approaching Hook from behind him. Peter laughed, wiggling his finger in the captain's face. "Ah-ah-ahh, Captain!" he said, as if scolding him. Hook poked the sword through his hat, missing Peter's head by inches. Peter drew his sword and they began duelling. From her hiding place, Wendy could only watch the scene unfold before her, covering her eyes every so often, afraid to watch. Just as it seemed Peter was cornered, he retreated off the peak, and Hook must have forgotten that despite the fact Peter can fly, he himself can't; at the last minute, he remembered, and stuck out his hook, piercing the rock and hanging, his feet dangling above the water of the cave below.

"Look at that!" Peter laughed, standing above him. "A cod fish!" he doubled over, grasping at his sides. "On a hook!"

"I'll get you for this, Pan!" Captain Hook vowed, shaking his fist in the air. "If it's the last thing I do!"

They both fell silent as a loud ticking sound filled the cave. Wendy frowned, lifting her face to glance at the water. Oh my! She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, it's a-

"Say Captain!" Peter cupped a hand around his ear playfully. "Do you hear something?"

Below them, the crocodile drew near, it's eyes poking out of the water as the ticking sound grew louder. It jumped out of the water, widening its jaws to rip the hem off Hook's over coat. Peter grinned, waving forward the croc. "Hey there, crocodile! You like cod-fish, don't you? You do?" he lifted his foot, as if to kick the Captain's hook off its place, right at the peak of the cliff. Before he could, though, the hook loosened, and then the Pirate fell, down towards the awaiting crocodile.

"I don't know where they went, Michael." Wendy murmured absent-mindedly. She couldn't stop thinking about Never Land, wondering it if actually even happened. Where were the Lost Boys? But if it hadn't happened, if it had, in fact, just been a dream... then how come Michael remembered? "Michael." She said, looking down at his face, "Last night...what did we do?"

"We went to Never Land, Wendy!" he exclaimed. "Don't you remember? We flew past Big Ben, we met a fairy, we fought Pirates and played sword-fight with the Lost Boys! We saved the Indian Princess from Hook, and danced with the Indians, and then you told us all stories..." he frowned at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. "How could you not remember, Wendy? We had so much fun! And you liked Peter, you told me you did!"

"I did not!" Wendy protested, her cheeks turning scarlet. "And yes I do remember; I was just making sure it happened."

"Make sure?" now Michael seemed utterly confused. "You don't have to make sure! Look! I still have my paintings from the Indian Party!" he lifted up the hem of his night shirt, and they both looked at his bare, pink stomach. Michael frowned, poking his skin as if the markings were hidden. "But...but Wendy! They were right there!" he looked up at her face worriedly. "Are they on my cheeks still?"

"No Michael." She said sadly. "They must have wiped off during the night."

Beside them, John stretched his arms high above his head, yawning. "Are we still in Never Land?" he asked, sitting up. "Are there more Pirates to fight? Where's my sword?" he looked down, searching the blankets for it. He came up empty handed. "Hmm...did I leave it on the ship?"

"We aren't in Never Land." Wendy told him, touching his hand. "We're at home." John seemed just as confused about this as Michael had.

"But...last night! We were flying, fighting Pirates...and flying!"

"I know. But look; we're in London!"

He turned his head, gazing out the window at Big Ben. "I want to go back! Let's go back, Wendy!"

"No, John don't-" Wendy tried to say, but he was already standing up, and balancing on the end of her bed. He squeezed his eyes shut, curling his hands into fists at his sides.

"Happy thoughts...happy thoughts..." and then, he jumped off the bed, landing with a thump on the floor.