A/N: Welcome to my third 'Peter Pan' one-shot. I realize it is extremely long, and I considered splitting it into chapters...but it wasn't quite long enough to merit that. Please read.

A note concerning Aunt Millicent: I don't know her true relationship to the Darling family, so I decided to make her Mr. Darling's older sister. And I can't remember if it was ever mentioned where she lived, so I decided that as well.

Disclaimer: Do I look like J.M. Barrie to you? Okay...bad example. For all you know, I do. But I promise that I do not, because I'm not him. I also do not own the 'Hook' quote I borrowed.

All Children Grow Up

"Wendy, you really ought to be in bed," Mary Darling admonished her eldest from the nursery doorway.

Wendy Moira Angela Darling was curled up on the windowseat, gazing out the open window at the stars. Behind her the nursery was dark, save for the light spilling from the hallway. Her younger brothers John and Michael were fast asleep in their beds, and the nurse, Nana the Saint Bernard, was snoring gently on the rug. Wendy knew that on the other side of the wall, her other brothers were sleeping as well.

Wendy tore her eyes away from outside and sighed. "Yes, Mother. But I keep wishing…"

Mrs. Darling sighed as well, crossing the room softly and seating herself next to her daughter.

"Wendy, don't you think you're a bit old to believe those stories? You're practically a young lady now."

Wendy shook her head in disbelief. It had been less than six months since her adventures in Neverland, but soon after she and her brothers had returned, bringing new sons for the Darlings, both Mother and Father had forgotten their children's previous disappearance, and came to believe absolutely that they had adopted the former Lost Boys from an orphanage in the city. All of the children believed this was some part of the magic of Neverland, which was lost on adults.

"John, Michael, and the others believe them," she argued.

"Yes, but your brothers are children. You are fast growing up."

Knowing resistance was futile, Wendy tried anyway. "But I was there, Mother! I went to Neverland. I met the pirates and Indians and Tinker Bell and Peter Pan himself-"

"Wendy, hush!" Mrs. Darling said, more harshly then she intended to. Her tone softened. "Darling, sometimes dreams are very vivid. It's all right to enjoy them, you know, but not to the point that you begin to believe they actually happened. This "Never-Neverland" you constantly talk about…well, it isn't real. It just can't be, don't you see? There's no such place in our history books, and certainly no such place in London. Do you understand? If we can't see it, it doesn't exist." She thought her reasoning would calm her daughter, but Wendy refused to be swayed.

"You can't see a cough, but it certainly exists," Wendy countered.

Mrs. Darling stood up. "Go to bed, Wendy. Whoever this "Peter Pan" is, he isn't coming tonight." And she shut the window, locking it with a snick.

Wendy opened her mouth to argue, but recognized the glint in her mother's eyes and glumly traipsed to her bed, pulling the covers over herself.

"Goodnight, Mother," she said, a bit stiffly.

Mrs. Darling kissed her daughter's forehead. "Goodnight, Wendy." She began to add her usual 'Sweet dreams,' but turned away instead, shutting the door and leaving the room in blackness.

As soon as her footsteps receded down the hall, Wendy climbed out of bed and leapt for the window, pulling it open.

"Peter?" she whispered. There was no reply but the soft hush of the breeze. "Peter? If you're listening, please, please come for me." Tears pricked at her eyes. "Please…I need to know it wasn't a dream. I miss you." When there was no answer, she fled back to the security of her covers and buried herself in them, swallowing her tears and recalling Peter's face, just to be sure she still could, until she fell asleep.

--

"Wendy? Wendy?"

Through the haze of sleep, Wendy heard her name being called. The voice was familiar, but she was struggling to place it.

"Wendy, please wake up! I've come for you." This time the voice was accompanied by a tinkle.

Wendy shot up in bed. "Peter!"

There he stood before her, hands upon his hips, a proud grin stretching his face, wild and untamed as ever and exactly as she remembered him. His fairy companion, Tinker Bell, fluttered at his shoulder.

"Hello," he said simply.

She leapt over the footboard and hugged him tightly. He definitely wasn't a vision – his body felt warm and solid in her embrace.

"Oh, Peter! You came!"

He drew back. "Of course I came. I promised, didn't I? To hear stories. Earlier I heard you arguing…"

"That's why I called for you, Peter. My parents don't believe me, you see. They think I dreamed you up! They've forgotten all about Neverland."

"I can't make them believe, Wendy. Grownups don't understand. They can't see me," he reminded her gently.

Tears filled Wendy's eyes. "I know. And, well - I've made a decision, Peter. I want to return to Neverland with you and remain always a child. I never want to forget like they have."

Peter's face lit up. "Come to Neverland to live? With me and Tink?"

"Only if Tinker Bell doesn't mind," Wendy amended, remembering the pixie's fiery temper.

Tinker Bell had settled on Wendy's bedpost. She tinkled gently in response to Wendy's question.

Peter turned to Wendy. "She says she doesn't."

"Really?" Wendy asked doubtfully. In response, the fairy took flight and landed on Wendy's head, patting her hair gently. She looked happy enough.

"I suppose this means you have to come," Peter grinned. He held out his hand. "Fly away with me, Wendy. We'll have lots of adventures...and never, ever grow up."

This time, Wendy didn't hesitate. She took Peter's hand as fairy dust landed in her hair, and stepped onto the windowsill. She glanced back one last time.

"Goodbye, boys."

The second star to the right twinkled as two children and a fairy returned home.

--

The next afternoon, Wendy's many brothers gathered in the nursery of the London house. Upon discovering their daughter's absence early that morning, Mr. and Mrs. Darling had alerted the police and a large search party was set up to find the lost girl. Aunt Millicent came straight down from Yorkshire, bringing Slightly with her, and she was to watch over the children while her brother and sister-in-law were out.

Now the boys gathered on the floor of the nursery, all except for Slightly, who perched on the windowsill and glanced thoughtfully out the window before turning to the others; and John and Michael, who knelt on their beds, trying to hold back their tears.

"All right, gents. We find ourselves in a tight place," Slightly announced, taking charge as the second-eldest present (John was older, but he did not seem eager to control the meeting. Slightly had always been second under Peter).

"We know where she went," Curly pointed out.

"Yes," Slightly nodded. "But now we have to decide what to do about it."

"Do?" John asked, shocked. "We must bring Wendy home. Mother and Father are in hysterics."

All the boys bowed their heads. They did not like to see their mother upset.

"But the Wendy-lady is our mother as well," Nibs said logically.

"And she hasn't been happy since we came here," Tootles added quietly.

"Maybe we're the problem!" Curly leapt to his feet. "Maybe we should leave."

"Don't be stupid," John snapped. "That's not it. She missed Peter."

He had done it. He had uttered the unspeakable name. The others fell into a brooding silence.

Finally, Slightly sighed.

"If she went back willingly, then there isn't much we can do. It seems to me that she isn't happy without you-know-who, and yet she won't be long satisfied in Neverland, either. She'll be back, sooner or later."

"But for how long?" Nibs asked. "How long until she leaves again?"

"'Tis an awful situation," Tootles buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, Wendy…" the Twins moaned together.

"I want Wendy to come home," Michael interjected quietly, clutching his bear tightly.

He looked as if he might cry, but none of the other boys knew how to comfort him. Wendy was best at this. So John crossed to his brother's bed and pat him awkwardly on the back.

"We have to bring Wendy back from Neverland," John said firmly. "She knows she belongs here."

"Ay, but how to get there at all," Curly pointed out. "We're out of pixie dust."

Nibs blushed. This did not go unnoticed by Tootles.

"Nibs?"

"We-ell…we're not out of pixie dust, actually." And he hurried out of the room, returning a moment later with a small satchel the others recognized from their days in Hangman's Tree.

"Nibs, you stole the spare supply of fairy dust?" Slightly asked incredulously.

"No! It wasn't stealing. It was ours to use, since Peter never needed it, so I brought it with us in case we ever needed it. And now we do."

Slightly could see Nibs was right.

"Alright, boys. To Neverland we go." The others stood up and crowded near Nibs.

"Wait!" John exclaimed. He took a sheet of paper and an ink bottle and pen from Wendy's desk and hurriedly scratched a note to his parents.

Dear Mother and Father,

We have gone to bring Wendy home.

Love, John

Then he joined the others by the window. Each of them reached inside the satchel and drew out a bit of fairy dust, sprinkling it on one another and thinking happy thoughts with all their might. One by one, they rose into the air and flew out the window. Nana, just entering the room behind them, barked and barked, bringing Aunt Millicent running.

But by then, the children were out of sight.

--

Peter and Wendy were lounging on a cloud high up in the sky above Neverland. The day was fair, as Peter was in a cheerful mood. Wendy, however, could not fully appreciate the beauty around her. She felt extremely guilty for leaving her family without as much as a letter of farewell.

"Oh, come on, Wendy," Peter coaxed. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Wendy smiled at him. "Yes." But there was a note of indecision in her voice.

She did not regret coming with Peter. It was more like she regretted leaving everyone else behind. She loved Neverland, but she wished living there didn't mean saying goodbye to her home and family.

"If you miss your brothers…" Peter said awkwardly, "…we could always go back and ask them to come live with us."

Wendy sighed. "Yes. But what about Mother and Father?" A shadow passed over Peter's face, as it always did when parents were mentioned. Wendy took his hand. "It's all right, Peter. I'm still getting used to this, I suppose. But I love it here."

He grinned, easily pleased. "Well, then, let's go find Tink. We'll have an adventure." He sprang up and somersaulted off the cloud.

Wendy giggled and followed.

--

"Well, here we are," Slightly announced as the boys broke through the last layer of clouds and Neverland appeared before them.

Now that they were so near to their old home, the boys were very eager to descend on the island and resume their old habits. All thoughts of bringing Wendy home began to disappear.

John kept his head and cautioned the others. "Don't forget, this isn't home anymore. Home is London, with Mother and Father and Nana."

"Yes, with Nana," Michael said vaguely – even he was forgetting.

"Look – there are the Indians!" Nibs called, pointing below.

"The Indians?" And John, too, forgot about his parents as he strained to see. "Do you think Tiger-Lily's down there?"

"I see her," Tootles told him.

"Oh, let's go down and see them!" John exclaimed in great excitement.

"Peter first," Slightly decided, and the others had to agree. So they swooped lower and landed unceremoniously on the soft ground, none of them having had much flying practice.

Slightly led the way through the forest to Hangman's Tree. The Lost Boys – for they had already unanimously and silently decided to assume their old name – slid eagerly through the hidden entrances. John and Michael followed.

The tree was quiet.

"Peter? Wendy?" Nibs called.

"Peter?" the Twins yelled in unison, peering into Peter's room. He was not there.

"They must be out about the island," John said.

A tinkling suddenly caught their attention, and they turned as one to see Tinker Bell zooming into the room, glowing brightly. She stopped short upon sight of them and fluttered for a moment. Then she squealed and flitted wildly through them and around them, finally alighting on Slightly's head.

"She's happy to see us," the boy explained. "We missed you, too, Tink," he told the fairy.

The reunion was interrupted by the sound of someone coming down the tree. The boys poised for attack, but then Wendy hurtled into the room.

"Wendy!" Michael cheered, rushing to his sister.

"Wendy!" the others echoed, surrounding their "mother."

Wendy blinked at them in surprise for a moment. Then a wide smile spread across her face.

"I'm so glad you're here!" she exclaimed, hugging them as one.

"Boys?"

A familiar voice caused the others to turn and see Peter standing in the center of the room, an uncertain look on his face.

"Peter!"

The cry was thunderous, and Peter soon found himself surrounded by his Lost Boys.

"Peter! Peter! We're back!" they shouted joyously.

Peter put his hands on his hips, grinning in a pleased sort of way. "Have you boys decided to come back to live in Neverland?"

"Yes! Yes!" they all cried, except for John, who somehow felt they were forgetting something.

"Actually…" he began, but the others drowned him out.

Wendy took her brother's arm and pulled him into Peter's room.

"John, you shouldn't have come. Look how the others have already forgotten Mother. We cannot let this happen."

"We came to bring you home, Wendy," John told his sister sadly.

Wendy sighed. "And now everyone has forgotten. Well, we shall play along with the charade for now, John, but don't forget home."

"I won't," John promised.

--

But he did. Neverland was so magical, so glorious and enthralling, that it made John sluggish, and he forgot all about home. Wendy forgot soon after her brother, and so the days were spent having one adventure after another. Whenever they spoke of home, they meant Neverland and Hangman's Tree. Whenever 'Mother' was mentioned, it was Wendy to whom they referred.

Yet one still remembered. Peter knew Wendy was not his mother. He knew she wasn't anyone's mother. He pictured the house in London with the window, and knew it was there that the Darlings belonged. But he could not bear to give Wendy up.

One night, long after everyone had gone to bed, Peter flew alone through the skies to London. He perched on the sill and saw Mrs. Darling, wasting away in her chair, her face drawn and tired. Mr. Darling slumped on Wendy's little couch, his long legs hanging over. Even Nana had gone gray.

Peter was sad. He did not want the Darlings to cry anymore for their children. As much as he disliked grownups, he knew the sight would make Wendy very upset and decided that the time had come for a change.

Peter couldn't write, so he left some leaves from his shirt on the floor and departed.

The next night he returned. The leaves were gone, replaced by a note. Peter took the note back to Neverland and asked Tink to read it for him. It said:

Please send my children back. I love them dearly, and will die without them. Please…Peter Pan.

Peter reeled backwards in shock. So Mrs. Darling believed in him now. He did some hard thinking, and then went to Wendy, who was sewing in her house while the boys played in the forest.

"Hello, Peter," she greeted him cheerfully. Her smile vanished when she saw the pained look on his face. She jumped up. "Are you alright?"

He nodded glumly, throwing himself onto the grassy floor.

"I think so. I need to talk to you."

Wendy sat again but kept her sewing aside. "What's wrong?"

"Wendy…do you remember your home?"

Wendy laughed. "Why, Peter, I'm in it!"

He shook his head. "Your real home?"

She frowned. "I don't know…"

"In London!" Peter exploded urgently to his feet. "The house in London with the nursery and the open window, and your Mother and Father and Nana."

Wendy sat calmly for a moment. Then horror crossed her face.

"I-I had forgotten…" she murmured.

"They need you, Wendy," Peter told her softly. "More than I do. You have to go."

Wendy was torn. "But…Neverland…"

"…will never be your home," Peter said, somewhat coldly because of his disappointment. He stood and darted out of the house, flying away among the trees.

--

That night, Wendy decided to return home alone. Without telling anyone, she secured a fairy guide. The two of them flew through the sky until they reached the London house.

Wendy landed on the windowsill. Her parents were fast asleep and sad. Wendy sat down hard on the floor, overcome with upset. She had promised herself she would never hurt her parents again, not the way she had before. But she had. She could not remember why she thought leaving them again to live in Neverland had seemed such a good idea at the time.

"Wendy?" the whisper was almost inaudible. Wendy looked up. Her mother was staring at her.

Wendy stood. "Yes, Mother. It's me."

"Wendy!" Her mother flew to her, hugging her tightly and crying into her daughter's hair. "George, wake up! Wake up!"

"Wha-?" George Darling sat up, confused. His eyes alighted on Wendy and his mouth opened in surprise. The next second, Wendy was in her father's arms and Nana was licking her all over.

"But where are the others?" Mrs. Darling whispered, looking around as if expecting more.

"In Neverland, Mother," Wendy murmured into her mother's shoulder. Already the place was disappearing in Wendy's memory, just as London had disappeared when she was there.

"They would not come back?" Mrs. Darling asked.

"I didn't ask them to come with me. But I feel sure that Peter will bring them as soon as he knows I'm here. I would go myself, but I'm out of fairy dust."

"I didn't believe you about Peter Pan, Wendy," Mrs. Darling murmured, "And I can't tell you how sorry that makes me."

"Adults forget," Wendy whispered. "You and I will both forget again before long."

--

Peter realized Wendy was gone. Angry and confused, he flew away from home and tucked himself into a nook by the lagoon. For two days he huddled there, unsure of what to do. At first, he decided he would keep the boys to spite Wendy. She could not fly back on her own. But then he discarded that idea – one person the boys could never forget was Wendy, and they would soon discover where she had gone.

Tinker Bell found him on the third day. Concerned, she forced him to eat some wildberries. Tink knew, unhappily, that as hard as Peter was trying not to grow up, he was losing to the inevitable. The old Peter would never have allowed himself to worry about anything for longer than a moment. The new Peter was making himself sick over a girl.

"Tink, I-I…I think I love her," he croaked, wrapping his arms around his knees.

Tink swallowed the lump in her throat and landed on Peter's knee, her glow dull and her wings drooping.

"If you love her, than you must go to her, Peter. You must leave Neverland."

"Neverland is my home!" Peter protested.

"Neverland was your home. But now it is just your fantasy. It seems all children must grow up after all."

"And you, Tink? Will you come with me?"

"I can't. I must remain here, Peter."

He began to cry, and rain fell from the sky, drenching the two in seconds.

Tinker Bell had not seen Peter cry, really cry, since the day she had brought him to Neverland. Of course, she supposed he had cried sometime in between, but she couldn't confirm this. Her own heart was breaking in two; it was all she could do to hold the sorrow inside her tiny body. Tink had never cried; she did not know how.

"Don't cry, Peter. I will never leave you, not truly. Listen - you know that place between sleep and awake? That place where you still remember dreaming? That's where I'll be waiting."

Peter gently lifted the dainty Tink in his hands.

"Tink…you're crying," he said in wonder.

She put a finger to her eye and felt wetness. Terrified, she wiped her eyes dry.

"I love you, Peter Pan. Now go."

And she zipped away, out of sight in an instant.

Peter watched her go. He stood unsteadily, struggling to think of a happy thought. Unable to find one, he instead set off on foot. By the time he reached home, night had fallen over Neverland. Peter wondered what the boys had been doing while he was gone. Somewhat cautiously, he slid into the tree.

"PETER!"

He was instantly ambushed by eight excited boys.

"Peter, where have you been?" "Peter, we had all the Indians out looking for you!" "You missed it – John was nearly drowned by the mermaids!"

But they soon noticed Peter's lack of usual bravado and grew quiet.

"Wendy…left," the boy began solemnly.

This was met with a heavy silence.

"Did you have a fight?" Tootles finally asked, somewhat confused. He knew that parents sometimes fought – perhaps this was what had transpired.

But Peter shook his head.

"Not…not exactly. I…I did tell her to leave."

"Peter told Mother to leave?" Slightly said in awe.

"Sounds like a fight to me," Nibs whispered loudly to Curly.

Peter groaned in frustration and pushed past the boys to his room, slumping into his hammock and fingering his harmonica. To his dismay, the boys followed, gathering around him.

"Peter…where's Tink?" Slightly asked.

Peter struggled past the severe lump in his throat.

"She's…" And without warning, he launched into his tale. By the end of the story, he was almost amused by the expressions on the others' faces. They were trying to understand, but it was obvious that, with the exception of perhaps John, their childish minds could not grasp the new emotions Peter was experiencing.

The only things that seemed to register with them were that Tinker Bell was gone, they were all to return to London, and Peter was coming.

"Mother will be so excited to see us!" Michael cheered, joining hands with the Twins and skipping in a tiny circle.

"Peter, you'll love London," Curly told him, "And Mother will be so happy to have you."

"I miss my mother," Slightly said, looking forlorn. "I can't imagine how she must feel with her only son gone."

John alone seemed to see Peter's internal struggle, and he alone understood the sacrifice Peter was making. He stood silently beside Peter as they watched the others celebrate.

"We should leave at once!" Nibs yelled, jumping up and down.

"Yes, at once!" they all echoed, and, falling into each other in their rush, they raced up out of the Tree.

Peter shrugged at John and the two followed, joining the others as they looked about for a fairy.

"Tink! Tink!" the Twins were calling.

"She won't come," Peter said shortly. He lifted his harmonica and played a particular succession of notes, summoning a swarm of fairies out of the forest trees.

They flew over the boys, spreading pixie dust in a glimmering cloud, and, one by one, the children lifted into the air. Peter was last of all. Squeezing his eyes shut, trying harder than he'd ever had to before, he thought of a happy thought – Wendy's face when she realized Peter was staying. Forever. Somewhat wobbily, he rose to hover among the others.

"Let's go," he whispered, a single tear falling from his cheek to the forest floor below.

A soft rain fell as the band made their exit from Neverland.

--

Wendy fell asleep on the windowsill waiting for the others to return. Her parents had retired to their bedroom after reassuring their daughter that her brothers would come back; if not that night, than surely the next.

She almost did not hear the soft whispers; almost did not feel the gentle brush of a hand against her arm. But then a familiar voice rose authoritatively over the others, and she started awake, sure it had been a dream.

But the figures standing before her were no dream. All her brothers – John, Michael, Nibs, Curly, Tootles, the Twins – and Slightly were there. And then…another.

He smiled at her – a sad smile, she thought, and much more mature than the one he had worn before. But there was still a glimmer of the old cockiness to it.

It seemed as though one of the others said something to her – Michael, perhaps? – but her eyes and ears were only for Peter Pan.

He said simply, "Wendy."

But it made her heart beat faster. As if she was a sleepwalker, she crossed the room to him, dimly noting that John had herded the others out and she and Peter were alone.

"Will you stay?" she asked.

A sort of flinch contorted his face, and she reached forward automatically to take his hands. But he clasped them behind his back and would not meet her eyes.

"Yes," he told her, quite honestly.

In that word, she heard a myriad of emotions. Sorrow…joy…confusion…pain…

"Why…?"

"Because I must."

The blunt, cruel reply stung her, and she began to retreat, turning away from him to hide her face.

"Oh. Well, then, I-"

"Wendy," he said again, catching her hand in his own.

She turned and found his face very close to hers. His breath was hot on her face. It smelled of dew and flowers.

And then his lips were pressed against hers, kissing her, and she responded eagerly. The kiss was broken quickly, as they were young and did not really know how such things were to go. It was only their second kiss, after all.

Wendy smiled, and was glad to see that Peter was smiling, too. Most of the pain and sadness in his eyes was gone, to be replaced by a burning joy and excitement. Vaguely, she wondered where Tinker Bell had got to, and why Peter apparently had to leave Neverland, but she wasn't going to ask now, that would be-

"I grew up," Peter told her, licking his lips, his eyes still locked on hers. It was the answer to her unasked questions. "I grew out of Neverland."

Wendy didn't know what to say, but she had no sooner opened her mouth than Peter cut across her.

"I'm all right, really. I promise." He squeezed her hand, then began to pull her into the hall. "Come on. I want to meet…Mother and Father."

Wendy grinned as she followed him. The words sounded awkward on his tongue…but he would grow into them.

Welcome home, Peter.

A/N: If you made it through that, congratulations. :) Drop a review.