Author's Note: Over 100 hits! Thank you everyone! I hope you keep reading (and sending reviews) because here is chapter four, which is the last of the sad chapters, I promise! Enjoy and please review!

Chapter 4

The Living Tree

"Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on."

---F. Scott Fitxgerald, The Great Gatsby

Breakfast the next morning was somber affair. The little house was extremely quiet as the realization that Peter was dead settled in. No one felt much like having a make believe breakfast, so Wendy sent Nibs and Slightly out to gather fruit for everyone.

When they returned they were soaked to the skin. As they dumped mangos and peaches onto the table, Slightly exclaimed, "It's raining buckets out there! It's never rained on Neverland before!"

Wendy opened her mouth to speak, when she suddenly remembered something.

Peter controlled the weather.

Or he had anyway. Wendy knew that when Peter left the island it would snow until he returned. But now, she assumed that he since was dead, the island was crying with the knowledge that Peter would never return.

As everyone began eating their meager breakfast, Tiger Lily arrived in the little house.

She entered so silently that the Lost Boys nearly fell out of their chairs in surprise. They all got hastily to their feet and bowed respectfully to her.

Tiger Lily looked at Wendy and said, "Pan is at our village and the heavens weep for him. We must bury him at the Living Tree."

Wendy nodded silently and looked at the Lost Boys who nodded, sadly in return. She looked back at the princess and said, "Thank you, Tiger Lily. We shall be ready in a few moments."

"I will wait outside," answered the princess and she turned and left.

Wendy hurried to her bed and fetched the envelope that Peter's letter had come in with the fairy dust still inside. She slipped his kiss on its chain around her neck and placed her thimble in her pocket.

"Boys," she said to one of the Twins when she returned, "will one of you fetch Tinker Bell? You may carry her to the village."

One of the Twins nodded and hurried off to the place where the dead fairy lay.

Then, Wendy turned to her brothers. "Are you absolutely certain that you want to fly and never grow up? Are you sure that you want to stay on Neverland?" she asked them.

John and Michael nodded vigorously.

"We talked about it last night," said John, "and we've decided that we would much rather become Lost Boys and have grand adventures than go back home and become boring grown-ups."

"And what would become of Neverland if we left?" Michael added.

Wendy nodded in agreement. Yes, she and her brothers would stay on Neverland, even if they would never see their parents again. Wendy knew her mother would be miss them, but as Michael had said what would happen to Neverland if they left? Perhaps, once the shock of Peter's death wore down, she would return to London for one last visit with her parents and explain her decision to them.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the envelope and poured enough fairy dust to fill a teacup into her palm.

She and her brothers marveled at the strange substance for a few moments before they each took a small fistful and when Wendy counted to three they sprinkled it on themselves.

"Think of something happy," Michael said. "Let's see if we can fly."

Wendy thought instantly of Peter when he had first taught them to fly and she immediately felt her feet leave the ground as she floated up to the ceiling.

"It worked!" John cried happily. "We can fly!"

Wendy smiled and let the happy thought leave her mind and she descended slowly to the ground.

The Lost Boys clapped loudly when they landed and Wendy smiled sheepishly at them. She had forgotten that they were still in the room.

"Now we have three captains!" Curly exclaimed.

They all laughed at this, but stopped abruptly as they caught sight of First Twin standing against the wall with Tinker Bell in his hand.

"I suppose we shall go now," said Wendy softly.

The boys nodded and got to their feet. Wendy led the way up the small tunnel and out of the tree, where Tiger Lily stood waiting for them.

The rain was falling harder than ever. Wendy was soon soaked to the skin, her nightgown didn't help to keep off the rain and she shivered in the cold.

"Come, we must hurry," said Tiger Lily, once everyone had clambered out of the tree. She took off down the path, walking quickly through the drenched trees.

Wendy hurried to keep up, followed closely by John, Michael, Nibs, Slightly, Curly, Tootles, and the Twins. They moved slowly though the forest, jumping over puddles and slipping in the mud in their haste to keep up with Tiger Lily. Wendy occasionally heard the distant rumble of thunder as the rain came down in sheets, stinging her bare skin like a thousand invisible bees. She hoped they would arrive at the village soon.

After awhile, Wendy heard the distinctive sound of not thunder, but drums. They rounded a bend in the path and came upon the Indian village.

The Indians had gathered in two long rows, allowing them a wide path to enter the village. Tiger Lily strode forward, her head held high. When they reached the village center Tiger Lily's father, the chief stood before them. He dressed in a simple suit of buckskin. Beaded necklaces draped his neck and a long knife hung from his belt. The other villagers made a wide circle around them and silence fell upon the village.

"Not a sun has passed since the guardian of this island was taken from us. He was killed by a demon whose name shall not be spoken here," said the chief, his voice echoing around the village. "Today we bury him at the base of the sacred tree, known as the Living Tree, where we hope that he may be restored to us."

He paused and looked at Wendy and said, "Welcome, Wendy lady and Lost Boys to our village. It is now your duty to defeat the demon who has taken our guardian, is that not so?"

They all nodded silently.

The chief looked out at the crowd once more and called, "We travel to the tree!"

He turned and walked over to two men who were holding a stretcher made of blankets. He beckoned Wendy and the others to follow him, and then he and the men with the stretcher turned and headed deeper into the forest.

Tiger Lily followed her father and Wendy, her feet feeling very heavy, walked forward after her.

They had not traveled very far into the forest when they reached a clearing and Wendy saw one of the largest trees she had ever seen. If she had spread out her arms to wrap them around this massive tree's trunk, they wouldn't have come close to reaching the other side.

The branches were long and sturdy and crisscrossed each other in an endless network of leaves and limbs; some of the lower ones were as thick as her neck. She tilted her head back as far as she could, but could not see the top of the tree.

She looked back at the Lost Boys to see them staring in wonderment up the massive tree, their eyes as big as saucers.

Wendy looked ahead of her and felt her stomach plummet and her eyes brim with tears.

The Indians had laid the makeshift stretcher at the base of the large tree and lying on this stretcher, his hair plastered to his forehead by the rain, was Peter.

His eyes were now closed and his once tan skin was as white as Wendy's nightgown. The wound in his chest had been cleaned and no blood was in sight.

Biting her lip, Wendy looked up at the chief, expecting some sort of ceremony to begin, but he only shook his head and said solemnly, "Our guardian's lady is to say goodbye first. It is our sign of respect." Nodding to show she understood, Wendy walked forward and kneeled down beside Peter on the rain soaked ground. She stroked his hair for a few minutes and whispered softly, "Oh, Peter, why did you have to die?"

She leaned closer and whispered into his ear, "I will take your place. I and the Lost Boys will avenge you, Peter Pan."

She sat up, took the thimble out of her pocket and laid it in Peter's open right hand and whispered, "You gave me a kiss and now I shall give you one, for it belongs to you, dear Peter." She closed his stiff fingers around the thimble. Then, she stood up and looked over at the Twin who held Tinker Bell. He shuffled forward nervously, looking as if he were about to cry.

Wendy gently took the fairy from him and laid her in Peter's other hand. The boy and his fairy were together in death, as they had been in life.

Finally, Wendy rested her hand on Peter's forehead, a few of her tears fell onto his face and she brushed them away. Then, she looked for what she knew would be the last time upon the face of the Boy Who Never Grew Up.

Crying softly, Wendy stood up and moved back to where the Lost Boys and her brothers stood. They crowded around her and wept silently for Peter as the drums began sounding again.

She didn't look up again until John tapped her on the shoulder and whispered, "Look, Wendy."

She looked up at the Living Tree, her face wet from crying and the rain and saw hundreds of birds sitting in its branches. It seemed as if every bird on the island sat on the limbs of the tree. Their plumage ranged from the scarlet to black and all the colors in between. The birds remained strangely silent as the drumbeat continued.

Wendy watched as a few Indians moved forward and gently lifted Peter's body and removed the blankets from underneath him. They set him down a little to the right of where he had previously laid and using shovels, began to dig a hole.

Once a deep hole had been dug, the Indians stepped away and the Lost Boys walked slowly forward, their faces wet from crying.

They all kneeled down beside the dead body of their captain, each saying their last good-byes. Wendy couldn't hear what they said and she didn't really want to.

Eventually they all stood up and came to stand beside her, their heads held high this time as the Indians walked forward again and laid the body of Peter Pan into the ground. Before they covered him with dirt, Nibs and Slightly walked forward again and each laid a small pouch in the hole beside Peter. They came back to stand in their previous places without a word.

Finally, Tiger Lily came forward and sprinkled white feathers into the grave. When she had rejoined her father, the hundreds of birds in the tree took flight, their calls echoing around the forest.

As the drums sounded again, the mourning party left the Living Tree and headed back toward the village while two men stayed behind to bury Peter.

Before the sacred tree disappeared from view, Wendy looked back and whispered, "Good-bye, Peter. You will never ever be forgotten."

Then she turned and followed her brothers and the Lost Boys back to the village.