She woke gasping for breath, shaking and sweating. It was a recurring nightmare, one filled with fire, dust and collapsing walls and it always left her shaken and low for the rest of the day. She sat up, heart thumping and pinched her nose. It was stuffed with a cloying acridness, something that stuck to the back of her throat, making her cough and her eyes water.

"It's not real," she breathed and gave a strange half smile before she threw the covers back and got out of bed. It was something she could almost believe was just nonsense, a nightmare conjured up from something she had heard but she knew better. It had been real, though she had not been there to witness it.

My parents...that's likely how they died, she thought with the detached air of someone objectifying death, like a Lepidopterist with butterflies. She could only take glimpses, let her mind hover over the truth for a moment before something painful in her rose up, something terrifying in it's scale. No one could suppress loss forever, not even with magic, and so grief plagued her in dreams, it's only true outlet.

As it does Peter...and if he still shakes in his sleep after centuries what hope do I have?

Aside from her concern and sympathy to his secret suffering she was deeply curious and also relieved. Pain, fright and sadness were feelings that seemed removed from Peter and it was something that he pretended was the truth. Loss and grief were human concerns, things that should not touch him but she knew they did and that was oddly wonderful. If he could feel scared and be wrecked by tragedy, as she suspected he had been, then there was hope for other emotions to surface.

However all this was mere speculation because Peter could not remember what troubled him at night and if he did he was not willing to share it. She needed to know, needed to peel back and expose everything about him, everything that was hidden and vulnerable until he stood completely unmasked before her. It was a shameful desire, a prying, sneaking want that she usually detested in others but she could not deny that her sense of curiosity overshot her shame. He knew just about everything about her, why should she be denied the same?

Thoughts crowding her mind she stepped around the screen in the cave where her old bed was, nose still lingering with the smell of smoke and froze. The stage lace curtains that framed her bed were on fire.

"Oh my god!"

She was stuck to the spot, watching the flames climbing and turning her pretty lace netting to ash within seconds. She had never made something a reality without thinking about it before, she always had to concentrate but it seemed that her nightmare, one that she had experienced so often, had escaped her mind and spread like gas. Thinking that it was real had been the spark.

"Stop! Stop!" she demanded, scared that it would spread or spring up like spores over the island and that made her heart race at the prospect. Peter could laugh in the face of destruction but she didn't think he'd take the ruin of his precious island with good grace. Wendy calmed her breathing, adopting the same detached approach she had given the nightmare and stared at the fire as the bed cover started to smoulder. She disbelieved it into submission until the fire was out, leaving behind the smoky ruins of the make shift bedroom. She sighed.

"At least I don't sleep in here any more."

On the way down the bamboo ladder she pretended the room was back to normal with an afterthought and began her usual walk to Peter's camp, her mind preoccupied as birds sang and the jungle whirred and hummed around her.

It had been a few years since she almost died and had to stay on the island to survive. Peter told her that it was now 1920 in her world but it did not feel that only three years had passed. It felt so much longer and yet she did not feel the strain of that time. She knew it was mostly down to Peter, he could do something where you experienced time like a playful child could: it lasted forever but you were hardly ever bored, always preoccupied with something that he had created. However some of those games were not something that Wendy agreed with and never would.

"Keep still," Felix warned, crossbow wavering as he took aim. A boy, looking no more then eight, was against a tree with an apple balanced on his head. He was deathly scared by trying not to show it.

"Don't worry if he misses. I've always wanted someone on my team with one eye," Peter said with a horrible grin as Wendy came into view. She took one look at the quivering boy and sighed.

"Not this again," she marched forward, grabbed the apple and pulled the boy away as Felix and Peter moaned in annoyance.

"Come on, stop spoiling all our fun! I stopped serving them made up food, don't take this from me too," Peter complained as Wendy bit into the apple, eyes fixed on his.

"I don't know why you go to such lengths to bring these boys here only to torment them."

"Because it's fun!" Peter cried out in exasperation. It was something he had defended many times. "Come on, I think he'd look quite fetching with an eye patch."

Wendy rolled her eyes and told the small boy to go back to his tent. She watched him run back as Peter moved close her, looking a little confused. He leaned down and trailed his fingers through her hair.

"You smell like smoke."

"That's of no concern," she said, deflecting the observation. "You can defend what you do as tradition, that's all fun and no harm no foul but we both know that's not true. If you're so set on recruiting again then at least consider what I've said. Pick boys who want to be here, not just ones that are failed attempts at getting the boy."

The boy, she had started objectifying him some time ago now, it made it easier. Peter had shown her the drawing he had of him but Wendy had looked away, not wanting to put a face to the sacrificial heart.

"Well I'm almost certain when I'll find him now, so I'm not going to make those mistakes again. I chose boys who are willing to fight, to shed blood if they have to because the time will come when we'll have to battle."

He had been informed over the years, gathered from many sources, of what the future would have in store for Neverland and this was something he had learned early on. People would come, adults, and he would have to be very smart indeed to beat them. He needed warriors, not soft hearted boys who still wanted their mothers.

"Yes, well I have been on the receiving end of boys who could only fight," Wendy smiled with no warmth and showed him her arm. It was barely noticeable and could be mistaken for a tiny smudge of ink but it was poison, trapped from spreading through her blood. The angry resistance on Peter's face slowly fell as he touched the old wound gently.

"I won't let anyone touch you, I promise."

"Then chose wisely," she requested softly and he gazed at her deeply before nodding. His fingertips grazed along her arm until he took her hand.

"Then help me."

The Dream Caves were near to her own part of the island and she suspected that was why her dreams were so vivid and easily escapable. She had been in the caves before but had not been able to use them to there full advantage. She had wanted to learn but Peter had been hesitant and she knew it was for multiple reasons. Here she had access to every mind, in every world and that included her brothers. But her hope to speak to them had been dashed but surprisingly not by Peter.

"I've tried to bring them here while they dreamed, to explain, but something is still blocking me," Peter said as he lead her through the curtain of vines that hid the entrance to the caves. He sounded more curious then peeved but Wendy was still deeply disappointed, She could not think about her parents without the threat of cracking like an egg but her brothers were a shining, pure love that tethered her heart back to home. It hurt and she missed them but they were alive and not forced into an unnatural youth for an eternity.

Not that I'll live that long, she thought quickly. Though Peter was hundreds of years old living for that length of time was so difficult to grasp that she looked on her immortality almost with a sense of disbelief, as if one day she would wake up and then grow up as was proper and expected. It was still very perverse to her but Peter said she would have to start viewing time differently now, like he does.

If she did have an undefinable span of time ahead and have nowhere else to go then she may as well get started on governing the Dream Caves. She had already proved that she had quite a formidable control over the mandible reality of Neverland and she was prepared to focus on this task with the same resolve. If she could limit the damage, help bring boys who truly needed to be rescued and wanted to stay with them then she would. It was a challenge and as he lead her into a cavern with a hammock she promised that she would find the most perfect Lost Boy possible. It was a decision that she regretted for years to come.

"Ladies first," Peter motioned to the hammock, one conveniently large enough for two, and Wendy's mouth pursed. She did not share his bed, not in the way he wanted because she was not ready. Though she had been separated from her own world for some years now there was still a snag of doubt and shame that hindered her attempts to be fully committed. Her parents were dead and their opinion should not matter but she felt like she would be disappointing them somehow. They had died thinking that she had been ruined and promiscuous and there was noway now to change that. So she fashioned her own bedroom and kept the door locked but she hoped one day to let him in, when it felt right. However she did not deny herself the opportunity to partake in all intimacies and so climbed up and grabbed onto him when he flung himself down beside her. Swinging together he pulled her close and Wendy laid her head on his chest. Playing with her hair he hummed a tune, something she did not recognise and she looked up at him quizzically.

"What's that?"

"I'll show you, once you're asleep."

"What will happen?" she had only been able to sleep and dream but nothing more. Peter could have helped her but he would not until now. She wondered what he was frightened of? Was he concerned that she would become better at it then he was? He was conceited enough to be jealous but she realised that wasn't it. The real reason was that he didn't want to share her with anyone, not even in dreams.

"It will be dark. If you get there first just wait for me," he said and closed his eyes. His ability to fall asleep anywhere and at any time was impressive, especially as he avoided the need whenever he could. Wendy listened to his breathing deepening and level out as the rocking motion of the bed lulled her into sleep.

She opened her eyes and stared into a perfect pitch blackness. Neverland was occasionally dark, the weather had improved tremendously, but this was a darkness that she had seen only once. It was like staring into the abyss in the Echo Cave but at least that place had a way in and out. This was just never ending, up and down and side to side there was just nothing. Wendy closed her eyes and willed herself to wake up. Wherever she was she seemed to have a corporal body and she realised that she was half in, half out of some kind of doorway. An elaborate frame scrawled around her.

"A mirror?"

"Yes," Peter answered suddenly as he appeared at her side. Wendy jumped, almost slipping but he grabbed her hand and kept her by his side.

"What is this place? It's so dark and vast," she said and Peter cocked his head.

"It's the place where dreams are formed. It has to hold every mind in existence, every world...so it's without end."

As Wendy's eyes became accustomed to the dark she realised that far, far below were tiny pin pricks of light, like stars and as she watched even more appeared. Soon there was a cluster of glittering light, like the Milky Way was being viewed from above rather than below. Wendy's unease vanished as she stared, awestruck. It was beautiful.

"Are you doing that?"

"You can call the mind of certain dreamers out of the dark. These are the orphans, the neglected and unloved," he said with no feeling but Wendy felt like she had been hit in the gut. There was so many, too many.

"How do we get to them?" she asked seriously, now fired with the need to help change the fate of some wretched soul down there. If she could do some good, make a difference in her present state then she would. Neverland did not have to be a place of perpetual stagnation and cruel games, it could be better. It could be a haven to those that needed it. She knew Peter would fight her on it, mock her sentimental nature but she would do her best to make those changes.

"Come on," Peter said and leaned forward, tipping his body into the dark and Wendy gasped, pulling back.

"What are you doing?"

"We have to fall," he explained, back by her side. He smiled at her fright and she knew he had been anticipating this. He was probably enjoying it.

"But it's such a long way down," she peered again, feeling the onset of vertigo as Peter squeezed her hand.

"You can wait here if you want but I know you'll be disappointed if you don't help. It will be fine, trust me," he said softly and Wendy blinked.

She loved him but it was not a love that came easy. He was a cruel, manipulating person that plotted and schemed and just happened to think of her as his own with a deep seeded possessiveness. He did love her, in the only way he could but she could not blind herself to the truth. She could not trust him completely and it caused her a deep regret because she knew that in another life it could have been so different. But trust could only be gained through sacrifice and faith and so she nodded and inhaled, readying herself.

"Okay but don't let go," she requested and he kissed the back of her hand swiftly before pulling them over the edge before she could change her mind. She screamed but her shrieks soon turned into laughter as they fell. She had thought they would plummet down at sickening speeds but they swooped and soared though the air like feathers, caught on air currents that she could not feel.

"Told you it was fine!" he shouted smugly and Wendy wrinkled her nose but then giggled when her stomach rose and fell pleasantly, her body buffeted on a wave she could not see. It was exhilarating but Wendy reminded herself why she was there and tried to adapt a more sombre expression. Peter landed suddenly, grinning and Wendy touched down beside him. She had not realised that there was anything to land on but there was something solid under her feet, as if she was walking on glass. Below she could see more lights, more dreamers but they were of no interest to Peter.

"Can you pull anyone to Neverland or only children?"

"You can bring adults but they're usually...insubstantial," he explained, rummaging for the right word. "They have to believe."

Wendy nodded, trailing behind as he lead her to the dreamers. She had thought there were stars but she realised that they were approaching a huge cluster of mirrors. Some of the mirrors stood alone but others were in groups, strands of something silky webbing them together. Wendy pointed.

"These dreamers are close to each other, maybe a family," she said, thinking of the time Felix had accidentally brought her and her dreaming brothers to Neverland as they all slept.

"Well spotted. It takes time to extract the mind that you want if they're in a clump. Okay then Wendy-bird, seeing as it's your first time you get to pick," he said, flourishing his arm for her to go ahead. Wendy hesitated, nervous.

"What do I do?"

"Just think of who you want, your perfect Lost Boy," he answered, imitating her promise and Wendy gave him a heavy lidded stare. She'd show him. She squared her shoulders and began walking, Peter hovering some distance behind in case she got lost. As she moved along the dark mirrors they flickered to life as she passed, showing her many things. Some were heartbreaking, some awful and made her look away sharply but most were the dreams that all children have.

Boys fought knights and dragons, saved people and were celebrated as heroes. In some they explored and discovered lost lands and hidden treasure. They swam, ran and flew and every single one of them were happily untroubled. Wendy watched, thinking of her brothers and what they would be dreaming about when Peter appeared at her back.

"These won't do," he said dismissively and Wendy felt a flash of reproach.

"They could be! Even the most tortured person can have wonderful dreams. How else can they escape?"

Peter smiled strangely and said nothing. He took her hand and pulled her over to a mirror. It was dark, gloomy and as Wendy focused she could hear something emitting from it: crying.

"That's how I find them, even if they dream they're kings they can't mask the truth."

Wendy watched the dream, seeing the haunted face of a tiny boy and felt her heart squeeze painfully. He dreamed of walking on the moon, of solitude and peace but even as he smiled and laughed it did not reach his tired eyes. Would he be better served staying with them, letting the panpipes fade away his pain and abuse but live forever? He could have that choice, something that so few of these boys had. Before Peter would play the music whether the Lost Boys wanted to forget or not but that was not right. She had chosen and that had been on her head, others should have the same choice.

"This one," she said, fingers hovering over the surface when the mirror, frame and all, suddenly disappeared. Wendy blinked, surprised and looked at Peter who sighed.

"Did he just wake up?"

"No, when they wake up the mirror just goes dark. He's dead," he said with no remorse and Wendy stared at him, not comprehending. A mirror, a life, had just winked out of existence and he looked utterly unconcerned.

"He just died? But – but I was going to bring him with us!"

"It happens," he shrugged, not looking at her increasingly furious face. "We better get to work. Don't touch the mirrors Wendy, otherwise you'll be sucked into their dreams and you don't want that to happen if they're near death."

Through her anger she felt a spike of dread, imagining such an awful fate. Not wanting to be in his presence in such a mood she brushed passed him, ignoring his intense gaze but she could feel it on her back as she walked away and lingered on her when alone. She searched the the mirror maze with a renewed purpose, vowing not to fail.

She did not know how long she searched, peeking into the private dreams of damaged boys but when she finally found him her feet were dragging. This place may be full of dreams but it was real and she was getting tired. Wondering what would happen if she fell asleep she walked passed a mirror, giving it a passing glance when she froze.

In the mirror a boy her own age was being beaten viciously. She found it hard to watch but what kept drawing her eyes was that the boy was shielding a younger girl, a sister perhaps. The scene shifted and the boy was lying on the ground, blood in his hair and laughing in defiance. It was a cocky sound, one that made you want to laugh along rather then reprimand. More scenes flashed before her eyes: the boy leading a gang of street urchins, fighting furiously until he was the victor. Finally the images shifted, blended into each other until there was a hazy scene before her. The boy with blood in his hair holding a baby, singing. Wendy smiled, touched. She had thought she would rescue a little boy, someone defenceless and she would in time but this was the one. He was dangerous, that was clear but he was not void or unfeeling, on contrary he seemed brimming with compassion. That was what Neverland needed and she would show Peter and Felix that you could have a Lost Boy with a heart.

"I've found him!"

"Who?" Peter asked, making her jump. She would have to learn to sense when he was near because it was getting ridiculous and he clearly took great pleasure in startling her. Wendy motioned to the mirror.

"Rufio."

a.n:

Thanks for the fantastic response to the first chapter! Originally I said this would be ten chapters long but I'm going to stretch it out, especially because there's that three month hiatus coming.

ETA: there seems to be some confusion about me taking a three month hiatus. I'M NOT. The show is on a break and won't come back until March. I plan to keep writing throughout that time. Clear? Cool.

Thanks for reading/reviewing!