"Peter!" The forever child turned to Wendy, and she looked at him, steady by the open window. "You won't forget me, will you?" she asked, feeling hopeful. "Me? Forget?" Peter crossed his arms, and she smiled at him with tears in her eyes. "Never." Wendy and Peter looked at each other for a long time, and in that moment, they said everything they could not bear to say out loud. He raised his hand to flutter a weak farewell, and Wendy spoke again, finding it hard to see him leave. "Will you come back?" Peter turned, hiding his sadness under a comforting smirk. "To hear stories. About me." With those last words, Peter took off without the Lost Boys, and without Wendy.
Tinker Bell was trailing close, but Peter could not look back. He was leaving behind the first girl to ever kiss him, and possibly the last, but the cold breeze was kind to his sorrow, and it dried the tears on his face. "Wendy." He whispered her name, and as his shadow passed over the roofs of London, Peter was among the blinking stars again, deep in the rawness of space. He allowed his body to float there in the blackness, pushing stars away as if they were buoys in dark waves, and he closed his eyes.
He pretends to let the years pass, and it is Christmas Eve in London. A child is being tucked into bed in a cozy house filled with warmth, and she is being told a story about Peter Pan. Her mother sits comfortably at her side, whispering to her the adventure she once had with the shadow chaser. Behind her, the window is open with the world inhaling and exhaling the curtains, and the little girl asks, "Mommy, do you think he will come back?" Her mother says, "I'm telling you a story about him. He will never be able to resist that." Peter opens his eyes; the idea makes his heart twitch with pain, and Tinker Bell tugs at his sleeve, urging him back home.
Peter shakes her off, and he dives down through the soft clouds, and then his feet hit the ground. He was in Never Land again, but he could only think of Wendy, and he did.
Soon, a year went by, and then another, and then another. Peter stayed out of sight, but he did look after the Darling family and the Lost Boys. He was the shadow that chased away the ruffians that taunted Tootles on his way home from school. He was the gust of wind that blew Michael's hat into the bookshop where he met the woman of his dreams. He was the clear sky the day that Wendy was married to Edward. He was Jane's great adventure, and he was Margaret's great adventure, too.
No one had ever stopped believing in Peter Pan, thanks to Wendy and her children, and their children. No longer did a fairy have to worry about dying, and no longer did the opportunity for adventure have to be missed. No one will ever forget the boy that lives in the second star on the right – Peter Pan . . . and he will never forget Wendy.