Prologue: A Choice

"You know you could stay if you wanted to. You would never have to think about grown-up stuff ever again. You'd never have to grow up, only if you stayed." Peter pleaded, kicking a small pebble across his path with his bare feet. His eyes remained on a small patch of moss next to his foot, for he couldn't bring himself to watch the girl that stood in front of him, her two younger brothers standing not far behind her.

"Peter," Wendy went over to him, taking his face in both of her hands to make his eyes meet hers. "I have to go back. Mother and father would-"

"Forget them, Wendy. Forget them all! What do they know about anything?! They don't know how to have fun and they definitely don't know how to fly! They're nothing!" He roared, tearing himself out of Wendy's gentle grasp as he escaped behind a leaning willow tree. He took out his knife and began sharpening a stick that had been tucked away in the bough of the trunk, trying his best to ignore everything around him.

He didn't understand how someone wouldn't want to be a kid forever; no worries, no cares, and no responsibilities was all that he knew—

and she wanted to give it all up to go back to a world of rules, and bed times, and parents. She wanted to trade in all this freedom that he could give her for two grown-ups who had forgotten what it's like to be a kid, who had forgotten what it's like to be alive and free. They were all dull and lifeless—Peter had resolved that a long time ago— and didn't deserve to be trusted. He didn't want Wendy to become one of them, to lose all of the things that made her Wendy. If she went back to the grown-ups, in Peter's eyes, she would be lost forever.

"Peter, please." Wendy sat in front of him, trying to get Peter's attention by poking his dirty toes. "I need to go back to England. It's where I belong."

"No, it's not!" He threw his knife down on the ground in frustration. "You belong here, where you'll never change and never, never grow up. Forget England and just stay, Wendy. Please."

Wendy looked at this lost boy, fresh tears appearing in the corners of his eyes with hands clutched into angry fists, and sighed as she scooted up next to him by the willow tree. Peter's head was now buried in his hands to hide his face, tears falling onto the dirt beneath him where he couldn't hide them. She reached over and gently pushed his tangled hair out from his face, trying to get him to look at her. She could help but notice how matted and coarse it felt against her fingertips.

"Never is a very long time. "

Without warning, he had his arms locked around Wendy's waist as he started to cry softly into her nightgown, holding on to her as if she would just vanish through his arms at any moment. They stayed like that for a few brief moments before either of them spoke again.

"Wendy," Peter whispered, all ferocity gone within his voice as the sweet, whimsical boy she knew resurfaced. "Don't go."

Wendy's own eyes began to water up painfully as she put her own arms around him, stroking his head comfortingly as the two just held one another together in fear any one of them might shatter before the next. The decision to go was hard for Wendy, but she had her life back in England waiting for her. And Michael and John had only barely begun discovering what their lives were about; Wendy simply couldn't deprive them of that. It was the grown-up thing to do.

"So, are we staying, Wendy?" John called hopefully from behind the tree, making Wendy loosen her grip on Peter who threw John a nasty look before looking back hopefully at her for her answer.

She sighed again, knowing that she still had to go back to her mother and father no matter how much it upset her to leave Neverland. Looking at the expression on Peter's face didn't help her, either; hope filling his always smiling eyes as his mouth moved into its natural grin while he looked at her expectantly, waiting for a miraculous change in her answer. "Just go find Michael, John. I'll be there in a few minutes." She responded, watching John hurry off to find his wandering brother within the surrounding jungle with hunched shoulders, obviously disappointed.

"You're still going." Peter murmured, tearing himself away from Wendy's arms, his eyes falling to the damp ground which surrounded them.

She reached out a hand and lifted his chin up to her. "You know what my father would do before he went out on long trips for business? He would always give me his pocket watch and told me to keep it while he was away. And do you know why it made me feel better?" Peter shook his head, hair bouncing wildly in front of his face, "Because it was something of his; something that was a part of him I could hold and have with me where ever I was."

Wendy then took the thimble that was resting in her nightgown pocket and set it in the middle of her palm before Peter. She tore a thin shred of fabric from her nightgown and tied it tightly through a hole that had rusted through the dull metal. Leaning forward towards Peter, she fastened the thimble around his neck carefully before resting it against his chest.

"Here, keep my kiss," she insisted, watching how it hung from his neck. "As long as you keep it with you, I'll never be too far away."

Peter held the kiss in his hand, admiring the glimmer it gave as he watched it. He set it back down on his chest and started to do something similar; he picked up a green acorn that rested by his feet and tore a skinny vine off the tree. Using his knife, he stabbed a hole right in the middle of the acorn and pushed the vine through like a kind of string. He kneeled over to Wendy and tied the thing to her neck as she did with him.

"This is my kiss. This belongs to you, and always will."

Silence hung in the air after that, both of them held each of their kisses in their hands with admiration. Before she could even meet his eyes again, she leaned over and hugged Peter tightly, as if he'd float away from her without a proper goodbye. It took a moment for Peter to realize what she was doing, but he awkwardly placed his hands around her as he buried his face into the curls of her hair.

"I'll never, never forget you, Peter Pan." She whispered into his neck, trying as hard as she could not to stumble over her words. Silence had broken between them, but neither of them minded. This was the moment just to record every little thing before they were both gone from each other.

He ran his free hand over a strand of her hair, trying as hard as he could to remember the feel of it before she left. "Never is a very long time."