Chapter 2

Flying over London felt nice to peter as the icy breeze hit his face, helping clear his head. A few flacks of snow hit his face and Peter grinned. Though he preferred the warm climate of Neverland, he was fascinated with the pure and unique snowflakes winter in this world provided.

Peter shivered and his thoughts returned to the reason he was here.

As he neared the Darling house, his memories of frequent trips here guiding him, Peter's heart fell and filled with sadness when he heard the heart wrenching sob in a voice all too familiar to him.

Wendy was crying.

Peter couldn't bear to hear the sound and he shot like a bullet to the room he regretted abandoning that night four years ago. And with his speed returned the memory of his promise to Wendy, the vow that he would return to her.

When he came to the window he slowed and what met his eyes was not what he remembered nor was he expecting. Not at all.

The girl at the window had long locks that fell to her back, and though they were the same color, they were different from his Wendy's. And the girl was not a girl in the sense of body shape. She was very much so a woman, with a full chest and shapely curves. Wendy had had almost no shape at all the last time they had seen each other.

Peter was about to leave, believing to have gotten the wrong house, when another sob escaped the girls lips. Peter turned again, landing on the roof, shocked to have heard Wendy's voice.

Leaning close, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, "Wendy?"

The question came out timid, Peter fearing his hearing was false and that this wasn't the girl he was desperately looking for. He leaned closer, close enough to smell the sweet flowery smell that came from the girl's skin, and tried to peer at her face.

"Wendy?" he asked a little louder, but still quiet as a breath of wind.

This time, the sad and heartbroken girl lifted her head slowly and her pretty blue eyes widened as they rested on the boy's face.

And Wendy couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her prayers had been answered and now there stood Peter, his eyes green as she remembered hair as messy as the day they parted.

"Peter…" she whispered. Wendy reached a hand up and caressed the stunned Peter's face. He leaned into her hand and closed his eyes, bringing his own up to hold hers.

"Are-are you really here?" Wendy's voice was watery and disbelieving, but it was still hers coming from the beautiful girl.

"Yes. It is me." Peter answered, opening his eyes to look and Wendy.

"Oh, Peter!" Wendy exclaimed in her soft voice, throwing herself at the leaf clad boy, surprising him.

Peter hastily threw his arms about Wendy's waist to prevent her from falling out the window, but a smile came to his lips seeing how much Wendy had missed him.

Just as Peter was about to say something in his usual cocky way, he was interrupted by a loud male voice yelling, "Oi! What do you think you're doing?!"

Jumping, Wendy pulled her head from Peter's shoulder and wiped her eyes hastily before calling back, "Oh, Jonathan."

"Who's he?" Peter hissed, not liking the tone this Jonathan was using.

"It's a boy who is courting me." Wendy didn't sound happy as she said this, a note Peter did not fail to detect.

"He's been giving you trouble, hasn't he?" Peter glowered down at the boy who was getting increasingly worked up.

"Unfortunately, no matter how many times I turn him down, he refuses to go away. And recently, he has been coming when everyone is asleep. It's starting to scare me." Wendy sighed.

"Want me to gut him like a fish?" Peter asked, completely serious.

"Oh no, Peter! You mustn't!" Wendy exclaimed, putting her hands to his chest and grasping at the thin material that was under her fingers.

"But if he is giving you trouble, then why not?" He asked, looking down at the worried girls face. Brushing a strand of hair that had come loose around her ear, he smiled at her reassuringly.

"Fine. I won't draw on him, but I am going to have words with him." He pried Wendy's fingers off of his shirt and he strode to the edge of the roof, leaving Wendy to lean anxiously out of the window.

Squatting at the very edge, Peter tilted his head and asked rhetorically, "What am I doing?" he placed his hand to his chin where he rubbed it, mimicking a thoughtful face.

"I think I'm catching up with someone I haven't seen in…" Looking back at Wendy, he asked, "How long has it been, actually."

"Four years…" Wendy said softly.

"In four years." Peter said back at Jonathan, but he froze and whipped around to face Wendy again.

"Four years?" he asked softly, this time his voice cracking.

Wendy nodded and wiped the tears that had started forming in her eyes again.

"Oh, God. I'm- I'm so sorry, Wendy. I didn't know…" Peter stood and slowly stretched his hand out to her, Jonathan forgotten.

Wendy laughed shakily and waved him off. "It's fine, I knew that you would forget about me." Just saying those painfully true words made fresh tears spring in her eyes.

"No. It's not fine and I didn't forget you. How could I?" Peter reached Wendy and pulled her head to his chest where she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, burying his face in her hair. For waiting so long.

"I'm sorry." For making you cry.

"I'm sorry." For leaving you here to begin with.

Each sorry Peter said made his own eyes burn with tears that had never touched him before. The great Peter Pan had cried for the first time in his existence. And it was over a girl.

"Get your scummy hands off of her!" Jonathan yelled. "You know what," Peter rolled his eyes as he turned his head toward Jonathan, who was pacing angrily.

"I'm going to call the police." Jonathan got a strange and disturbing smile on his face, thinking he had won out.

His moment of triumph was broken when Peter called nonchalantly, "So what?"

"What?" asked the confused Jonathan.

"So what if you call the police. They won't find me here. All they'll find is a distressed gi-" Peter caught himself before he shook his head and corrected, "woman and you."

Peter smirked. "You'll be the suspicious one they haul away and lock up. And when they do, I'll come back and Wendy and I will still have our time."

Jonathan's mouth flopped open then snapped shut again.

"Just go." Wendy pleaded.

"Why?" Jonathan seemed astounded that Wendy wished for him to leave and not the boy she clung so tightly to.

"Because you're troubling me. I've told you before not to come here-" Wendy was cut off by Jonathan hysterically laughing.

"But isn't the one on your roof that guy? I'm the kind one with the right to see you and he is violating your privacy! You didn't even invite him up there. He just marched his cocky little-"

"He doesn't need permission!" Wendy screamed, praying nobody woke and came in. Peter would have to leave again if that happened.

"Wh-what?" Jonathan stuttered.

"He can come any time he pleases. He doesn't need to ask my father, nor does he need to ask me. He can show up any time and everything is alright." The hidden meaning in Wendy's voice even registered to the simple minded Peter and his heart hurt because he knew now that Wendy hadn't been alright when he was away.

"Why?" the persistent boy asked incredulously.

"Be-because," Wendy stuttered throwing a glance at Peter, hoping her next words didn't make him abandon her again.

"Because I love him." She forced the words that had been in her heart for more than four years.

Jonathan was flabbergasted as he said, "Fine. Fine. I'll leave. For now, I'll leave." And he trudged, dumbstruck back down the street.

Wendy huffed and crossed her arms. "Finally. Normally when I say that, he sneers and asks if you were made up."

Catching herself, Wendy threw her hands up to her mouth and turned toward Peter to make sure he hadn't disappeared into shadow like he tends to do.

But Peter was standing there, rigid as a tree, thoughts mauling themselves over in his head.

When Wendy has said she loved him, first his heart hammered and he was glad, but then he realized what she had said and what that meant and he felt his old self returning. He wasn't supposed to grow up or love anyone. And yet here he was, with a girl he had cared for since four years and his heart had actually raced with just three words; the three words he generally shied away from when the girls of the island said them to him.

"Sorry, Peter. I know you can't stand that. That was the reason we first fought, remember?" Wendy said sadly.

Shaken out of his stupor, Peter shook his head.

"No, it's fine." He didn't wish to elaborate, so he changed the topic by rubbing his arms.

"It's a bit chilly out here. Mind if I come in?"

"Oh! No, please…" Wendy stood and gestured for Peter to step through the window. Once he was through, Wendy hurriedly latched it shut again, mumbling to herself, "Won't need to leave this open tonight."

Looking around the room, Peter noticed many changes since the days when he had come to hear stories of himself being told to younger boys.

I was quite vain, wasn't I? Peter laughed to himself.

The room was now a delicate rose color with white furnishings. The bed skirt and all the little bits of trim were a thin and fragile looking lace. Then, glancing over to the right wall, Peter noticed, painted in a shiny silver paint, a star exactly where the Neverland star would be in the sky.

Looking at the vanity, he saw, sitting in the center on display, was the little acorn shell on a silver string.

Our kiss… Peter thought. Then he shook his head. All around the room were memoirs from their time together. There were leaves from the days in the forest. A little jar that contained pixie dust sat on the bedside table. And there were countless drawings strewn about the bed.

Peter picked up one and Wendy hurried to snatch it out of his hand, but peter was quicker. He held it up out of her reach and studied the drawing. It was a really skillful drawing of him.

Glancing down he saw that out of the number of drawings Wendy was trying to gather, maybe two weren't of him.

"Why did you draw these?" he asked quietly.

Wendy blushed as she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. "Because I missed you."

Dropping the picture, Peter sagged to the bed.

"If I do say so myself, I look really handsome in these pictures." His attempt at taking the awkwardness out from between them hadn't worked, but Wendy tried to help by laughing.

"But I didn't get them right. Look," she dragged him off the bed and together they walked to the mirror.

"Your hair is longer. And your face isn't as squishy," Wendy reached up and pinched Peter's cheeks with her hand.

"Come off it." Peter said, blushing, as he pushed her hand away.

"No, really," Wendy's smile slowly slid off her face as she looked Peter up and down, making him feel warm and self-conscious.

"Peter, you've gotten taller!" Wendy exclaimed. "What happened to you? Peter, you've aged!"

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