Wendy Darling sighed and let herself fall in a heap on her bed. It had been one of those days again. She was tired, and she'd let her mother down again. Why couldn't she be like all the other girls? They enjoyed fancy dresses, and parties, and boys. Wendy enjoyed those things too, but she couldn't bring herself to enjoy them quite as much as the other girls.
And they never filled the ache for Neverland.
The ache had been there for four solid years now. Nothing she had ever done had been able to soothe it. She stood up and crept to her window, lowering herself to the seat. Wendy stared dreamy-eyed at the stars and the bright moon. She let herself remember that one perfect night. Neverland.
It had been the most magical night, flying across the clouds high above London with her brothers, Tinker Bell, and of course, Peter Pan.
If Wendy Darling was completely honest with herself, she would know that Peter Pan was the real reason she had such an ache in her heart. She'd left a piece of her heart with him on that starry night.
Three tears slipped down her cheeks and landed on her windowsill before Wendy realized she was crying.
She'd never let herself cry over him before, but tonight seemed different, and she let herself go. The sobs wracked her body, and she mourned, quietly, for everything she had left behind that night. Her freedom, her ability to stay young forever, and the boy with the mischievous eyes who had stolen her heart.
Why had she ever left?
The answer came immediately: John and Michael. She couldn't have kept them there because of her selfish desires. They had started to forget London, their mother and father, and life back home. That was when she had known she had to face growing up. They needed it more than she could ever need Neverland.
Oh, how it broke her to leave the place, and the boy with no fear. She'd known it was right, and bravely kept herself together. Even when she watched him fly away. Even when her father moved her things to the next room over. She'd even done it when young men started calling and she'd had to entertain them. Even though they would never be the boy she truly loved.
But tonight, well tonight marked four years since she'd first met Peter Pan and the painful ache in her heart felt more real than it ever had. She'd given up so much, and it hurt.
When enough tears had been shed, Wendy Darling brushed off her cheeks, smoothed her nightdress, and picked herself up. But this night, instead of heading straight to her bed, she unlocked the window, pushed it open a crack, and whispered, "I'll always believe in you, Peter Pan."
Then she stepped quietly back to her bed, and fell asleep with the weight of the boy's acorn kiss under her nightdress.