One-shot

~A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes~

Frail leaves the colour of sunsets fell softly from the trees around the park bench where Wendy sat. Small children bustled and played in the early fall weather, while a coffee cart nearby tended to the parents needs in the chilling wind. Young Miss Darling and her brothers were enjoying the first days of their semester breaks together in the park, however the eldest Darling child had been swamped by her deadline for the last chapter of her book that her publisher demanded.

She has, for as long as she can remember, had an ambition to write a great novel, spanning three books showing the adventures and imaginations of children, which is what drew her to the parks. This is where she could watch the joy of play, reminding her of her own childhood experiences. The idea had been a hit, the first installment of her series had been released when she was just 17, this in turn funded her university tuition. No more than a year later Wendy had successfully had her second book published. Her delicate fingers clutched at her papers and notes as the wind hitched slightly. Now her last adventures were set to hit the shelf just before her twenty-first birthday.

"Wendy! Come join us!" Her youngest brother Michael called. John smiled over at her, his eyes peeking through his dark hair.

"I'll be there in a minute!" She assured, taking the last sip from her hot drink, beginning to loosen her scarf to use it as a paperweight.

'Why is it so easy to begin a journey, and hard to end one..' She pondered to herself looking back over important phrases and moments in her book to draw inspiration from. The mouse haired young woman sighed softly.

"For all children must grow up... Except one."

The first line of the book series still stung her eyes at the thought of the dream of Peter Pan. Wendy had accepted long ago that Neverland was a place they created as children, running around their nursery, playing pirates and indians. The game had spiralled out of control once the neighbours children had joined in on the fun. As an adolescent, Wendy's dreams escaped the realm of reality, playing tricks on her mind of what was real and not real.

Small chatter spun Wendy out of her reverie. A young teen, no older than Michael had joined in with her brothers game, his dark hair and youthful features reminded her of John when he was younger. She heard her siblings introduce her from a distance, she offered a small wave which was returned with a smile. Around ten minutes later Wendy was satisfied with the layout of her last chapter. Bringing her pen to her mouth she considered her final words. Thinking across her dreams and journey as a writer she wasn't quite sure how end the adventure.

The young man playing catch with her brothers questioned them aloud. His voice drifting to her ears.

"Hey, your sister? Is she that young writer?" He asked astonishedly.

The two boys laughed. "Yeah she is. You'd hope she has writers block, because if she hasn't then she invited us out here with her just to ignore us!" Michael complained, his freckled nose scrunching with laughter.

The stranger grinned as he chuckled. "That's awesome. I wanted to be a writer as a kid. A lost of my friends read her books y'know. Most of them think it's pretty dark."

Wendy could only roll her eyes. Her books had been marketed to both children and adults. She had originally planned to be in the same market as books such as 'Winnie The Pooh', her publisher however had seen some more mature symbolism and metaphors and encouraged her to span across adults and children's fiction. Eighty percent of the population had thought that "Finding Neverland" had really been about a young boy who had lost his life, and now journeyed other lost children to safety, and that Neverland was really the afterlife creation of children's imaginations. Wendy shook her head, her lips curving upwards at the thought.

'Adults can have pretty active imagination's too..'

But alas. Neverland was just a game they had played as children, their adventures took place in their imagination, and Peter Pan was just a boy that came to her in her dreams.

Her sky blue eyes searched across her papers, jotting down different idea's for her final words.

"Wendy! Look out!" John and Michael yelled as the ball they were playing with had taken off in her direction. Quickly covering her face she felt the ball whizz past her ear, swiftly it knocked her now empty coffee cup from the armrest of the bench.

The stranger ran up to her, helping her collect the stray papers which she had dropped. "I'm so sorry, I misjudged my throw." He handed her some papers, his dark brown eyes full of remorse.

"It's okay." The Darling girl assured, collecting them from him.

"I want to be a writer too you know.." He started, his cheeks tinged pink. "But I don't know where to start.."

Wendy smiled, albeit taken aback. "Just write the truth. What comes from your heart." She advised honestly.

The stranger gave her a small smile in return, "Is.. Is that what you do?" He stammered quietly. Wendy drew in a small breath sharply, nodding to the younger boy. "I never used to believe you, y'know.." The raven haired teen began, seeing the female across from him furrow her eyebrows he quickly tried to amend himself. " I thought your stories were dark and twisted.. That was until a friend of mine told me to just take them at face value. To believe in the fairies, and ticking crocodiles." The young stranger picked up her cup from the grass before it blew away. 'Otherwise a fairy somewhere could fall down dead." He joked lightly.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Your friend sounds as bonkers as I do."

White teeth stretched across his thin lips as he grinned a boyish grin. " Yeah.. You're right he might be. I thought he was at the start. But he told me, 'What's wrong with a bit of make believe'. He made me realise it's not all about racing to grow up and be successful, that I should slow down and enjoy it along the way."

Wendy folded her extra papers away neatly so she could focus on the last draft of her book.

"Well anytime you need help with writing you know where to find me. " She smiled, " Oh and "I'd like to meet your friend one day, especially if he is as bonkers as I am." She laughed grabbing her empty cup from the boy so he could go rejoin her brothers in their game as she finished off.

"You know.. I really think you might." He smiled, leaving her alone at her bench once more.

This young stranger had given her some inspiration she thought as she scribbled. It doesn't matter what people believe as long as they have something to believe in. Wendy thought to herself, over all of these years, the idea of the boy from Neverland had kept her going, the dream of him had made her dreams of being a writer come true. Even if he wasn't real he was the boy who will always live in her imagination. Somewhere where he would never grow up, across the fragmented memories she has of her own childhood. Peter Pan would live.

As she wrote down her final words, a soft masculine voice called out around her.

"Told you I'd always come back, to hear stories.."

Wendy looked up at the young stranger across from her, expecting him to be closer than he was. He stood smugly at a distance, his arms folded against his chest. All three boys stood. Their game frozen as John and Michael stared at her in disbelief. She realised the boys were too far away to have spoken to her.

A chill ran over the Darling woman as a warm breath fawned over the back of her neck. She quickly stiffened as she felt heat radiate from the body that now stood behind her. The ink from her pen flowed freely onto the paper as the tip was continuously held against it.

As Wendy drew breaths as jagged as her heart raced, the man the voice belonged to swept one of her tawny brown curls over her hair softly. Leaning his head against her own he cheekily whispered,

"About me."

Immediately she sprang to her feet, shock and amazement written across her face. Scattered pages of her book flew from her lap as she jumped from the park bench into the arms of her long lost friend. He held her closely, embracing her smaller frame.

He had grown. She noted to herself quickly, tears falling from her closed eyes.

'Dreams really do come true.' She thought. The last few words of 'Finding Neverland' ringing true in her heart.

For all children grow up,

Except one,

The boy who lives.

Fin

This was written quickly so I'm sorry if there are mistakes!

The idea for this was that while Wendy thought it was all a dream, (even though she had always hoped it wasn't) Peter really had been real and he had left Neverland to grow up for her.

It was about Wendy realizing that Peter would always live in her imagination even if he was a dream, and he would never grow up, He would always live through her stories.

So when she did finally see him the same age as her,

he could be a boy that never grew up,

a boy that did grow up,

and a boy who lives.

Happy endings all around.

Tayliexx