Chapter One

"Wendy…" Peter whispered into the window. He peered into the dark bedroom. In the past it had been illuminated by a friendly nightlight, but tonight, moonlight was his only beacon. With his quick, sneaky feet, Peter stepped off the windows sill, and onto the cool hardwood.

"Wendy?" He called again, but there was no answer. His eyes widened in the darkness and he could now see that there was only one bed in the nursey, the others replaced with a lady's vanity and a large mirror which reflected a wild eyed man.

"Ah!" Peter gasped, as he drew his little blade, and the man drew it too.

"Peter?" Came a voice. He turned into the darkness to see the shadowed shape of Wendy. Peter felt a rush of excitement. How could he have waited so long to come fetch her? He felt awfully silly for it.

"Yes, I am here!" He said running towards her, but her form backed away for Wendy was being approached by the wild eyed man. Peter had forgotten the wild eyed man, and had conveniently dismissed any recognition that it may have been himself in that mirror and was hurt by her recoil.

"You don't want me to fetch you, Wendy?" He said, stepping back to the window and pretending to leave. He meant to tease her out of her hiding place, and was further crestfallen when she did not budge even a little when he stuck his foot out into the night air. The moonlight illuminated him just a little. Little enough for Wendy to see the figure before her. It was indeed Peter, but she had expected him to have remained little. He certainly had not.

"No, Peter, I do." She whispered softly. "But your voice…"

"What about my voice?" He spoke quickly, suddenly aware of its timbre.

"It's not… Peter have you grown?" She asked, poking softly at the subject. Peter scoffed.

"What a silly question Wendy, you know I cannot grow up." He propped his hands upon his hips in his usual cocky fashion.

"Peter, how old are you, really?" She challenged.

"Why? How old are you?"

"Nine." She lied.

"Then I am ten."

"Oh Peter, you cannot really believe that I am only nine!" She laughed. He stamped his foot as he was greatly displeased at being had.

"You know I am no good at telling ages!" He groaned. "Tell me for real!"

"Fourteen, then."

"Good, then I am fifteen." Peter said crossing his arms. "End of discussion."

It was Wendy's turn to stamp her foot now. Peter seemed tickled pink at irking her, and he laughed. He laughed that awful laugh that broke her into pieces, and reverberated through the room. Yes, it was indeed Peter. Her heart felt flooded with a strange and terrible feeling. In his glee, Peter pulled Wendy by the arm to the window.

"Let's fly now!" He cried. It seemed unbearable that Wendy was not already with him in Neverland. He really had no idea why he had waited so long to fetch her. Then again, he could almost sense a memory of fear, a fear she would say no. But it was barely a sense and before he even considered thinking on it the feeling was gone from him.

Stumbling forward, Wendy could not help but follow him. How could she not? From the illuminated window she saw him fully. He was taller, but still boyish in his features. His jaw had sharpened, and so had his eyes. Her heart stammered at the sight. No boy had ever made her feel so silly by just looking at him. She looked past him into the night sky then down below to the three story drop from her window.

"Peter…" Wendy whispered, her heart feeling heavy. "I don't think I can fly anymore."

"Well, why not?" Peter asked.

"I have grown…" She said plainly. Peter was about to respond 'So have I but I still flew here.' but the thought was trampled before it could form itself into words, and Peter found himself speechless. He didn't know why he was speechless, but as usual dismissed the strangeness of it. Instead, Peter held Wendy's hand in his and squeezed tightly.

"Just trust me." He said, staring down onto her. The act only made her heart heavier with feeling. Peter floated gently above the sill and let the gentle breeze carry him a couple feet from the window, his hand still clasped around Wendy's. Wendy followed, forcing herself to look into Peter's face instead of down below, and with senseless confidence, climbed over the sill and stepped onto thin air. The thin air, being quite thin by nature did not support her weight like Peter promised, and she fell forward grabbing onto Peter's arm as he was pulled harshly downwards with her weight. A scream echoed into the night, and Wendy did not realize it was hers until she was sure that she had not died or broken both of her legs. She had locked her eyes shut in the fall and now opened them to see her dangling legs swinging over the garden below. Her heart was pounding furiously and she looked up at Peter, whose look of absolute shock and fear was quickly replaced with a calm smirk.

"No matter, I will carry you!" He said cheerfully. Wendy felt him pull her up as he bobbed up and down precariously in the air. It was strange how strong he was. He pulled her up as if she were a sack of flour, and he snaked her arms around his neck while he hooked his arms around her legs to secure her like a back pack. He bounced her weight a bit to adjust her and she giggled, only a little, in glee. It was strange, then, that she was crying. Peter had noticed, of course, but spared her the embarrassment. Wendy was crying because for the first time in her life, she had wanted to look backwards into her childhood, and found that she could not go back. Wendy could no longer fly. This was Wendy's first look into the barred window. Peter understood the barred window well, although he doesn't acknowledge why he does, as he is always stubbornly looking away from it. He turned his head to look at her, and was so moved by her tears that he could not help but place a small thimble on her cheek.

"Ready to fly?" He said. Wendy nodded, splitting into a smile from thimble. Peter squatted and pushed hard off of an imaginary ground, and they were jetted into the stars on their way back to Neverland.