A/N: hello lovelies! I'm adding on to this, which I had only planned to be a one-shot, because of the recent plot developments (and the impending mini-hiatus has me in withdrawal already, lol). Now a two-shot. Not sure if it will bloom into a full story, so don't hold your breath. Thank you to all those who favorite/followed. It's extremely encouraging to this shy writer. I was listening to Let It Goby The Neighbourhood, Bleeding Out (as performed by Falksongs on Youtube), and Wayfaring Stranger by Ed Sheeran while writing this, if you're interested. Not sure if they really go with the tone of the show or this work, but hey. Please review, good or bad! Ok, shutting up now…
She had nightmares every night.
Broken heart rarely breeds peaceful dreams, and no amount of warm milk and treacle could sooth her mind into a dreamless slumber.
Mr. and Mrs. Darling turned the guest bedroom into her bedroom and moved her out of the nursery, as she was no longer so small a child as the boys. The loneliness of a "proper young lady's" room only served to amplify her sorrow.
She didn't know exactly when she had decided, but Wendy had definitely decided to save Bae.
No matter the how—details, she told herself, that's nothing but details—Bae was family, here family. He became family the moment she hid him in the house, so she refused to leave him, no matter what her parents chose to believe. She missed him. She missed his company, she missed his shenanigans at the expense of the tutor, she missed the stories he told. Wendy missed him, and if growing up meant letting him go, she refused to grow up any further.
It took some planning—her mother had hidden the keys to the new window locks, for one. There was also the new nanny and the dog to think of, and she wouldn't risk her brothers. It was only after helping her mother dress for a dinner party that Wendy found the keys were hidden in her vanity drawer, the key to which was in her jewelry box, which was, thankfully, not locked. There was a great deal of patience after that, waiting for a night when both of her parents would be out.
Finally, they did; after the children had all been put to bed, the nanny—who had taken to calling herself Wendy's "governess" these days, much to Wendy's exasperation—had fallen asleep on the sofa. John and Michael were safely in their rooms, and the dog with them. As silently and quickly as she could, Wendy stole the keys, shut the door, and flung open her window.
"I—"
There was a moment's hesitation. Fear; the tiny voice buzzing at the base of her skull that told her Bae was long gone and there was little she, a mere girl, could do for him. That there was little reason to risk herself, to leave her brothers unprotected.
A voice and fear that were smothered into silence by her determination.
"I believe."
Mr. and Mrs. Darling were beyond consolation.
There was nothing Michael or John could say to convince them it really was some vengeful shadow that had come and taken their only daughter and eldest child away. The nanny was sent away with the most dismal of references. Their poor ward and now their dear daughter- gone without ransom or reason? They could only assume the worst. They could only pray and beg the police to do all they could.
The Darlings' sorrow only increased when the boys disappeared the boys the following night.
All their friends and relatives assured them this was not their fault; the children would never have a reason to run away, not the ward whom they'd taken without question from the streets nor Wendy, John and Michael, for all their devotion to their parents. The children had been well cared for, obedient, and happy. "You've done all you could have," they said; a nanny, a dog, brand new locked windows. "This world is full of horrible people," said they, "and the one who has taken the children must be one of the worst." It was not comforting. To the world, it was a tragedy, a horror, something that happened to other people and you read in your morning paper, clicked your tongue at in pity, and moved on. The Darlings, however, would never move on. The grief and unreasonable guilt ate at them, slowly, deeply. Killing them.
The children never came back.
Peter had never had a girl on his island; Wendy was the first. She was also the first to go away and return. She was tough and intelligent and beautiful. She was a girl, a bit more than a girl, just like he was more than a boy, and so it was easy for him to fall in love with her. But with every hateful glance and disgusted shudder, he knew she would never love him. She loved Baelfire—ironically, she loved his grandson. He kept them far apart so they would never know of each other, so that she would give up, but she never did. She asked about Bae every day, and sat as far away from Peter as she could every night. So he made her pay; her brothers were his faithful slaves, she his faithful puppet in a cage, and Baelfire more lost on this island than his lost boys.
Fin.
A/N: How'd I do? I need reviews! It will only take a moment! Really, even one word reviews like "Bad" or "Excellent" are welcome!