My father was angry, I was up all night listening to him talk about how improper it is for a girl to run off by herself. He talked about what could happen if I ever did that again. My mother, on the other hand was practically sobbing. I didn't know that I had worried her so much. The worst part of the whole thing was that I didn't even feel guilty about it.

Don't get me wrong, I regret making them worry, but I don't regret running off by myself. Plus, really it wasn't my fault that I had gotten sick.

It was days before I saw Peter again as well. I was beginning to think that I had done something wrong, that he didn't want to see me. I tried to push these thoughts out of my mind, for sake of my own sanity. I looked out my window for the hundredth time that day before slowly making my way to bed, braiding my out of control hair back as I did.

I silently prayed that Peter would come see me tonight, I was almost tempted just to walk out the front door and run to see him.

I closed my eyes, giving up hope of seeing him.

I heard the hinges on my window squeak. My heart pounded. Peter? No, no. He's not there. Don't get your hopes up, just to get them destroyed. I squeezed my eyes shut, "I just left my window open, that's all." I whispered to myself.

"Do you normally talk to yourself?"

That voice, that irresistible voice. The voice which I craved. The voice that came to tempt me in my dreams. But this time it sounded so real, this can't be a dream. I slowly opened my eyes, in fear it really was a dream.

My dark escape, collided with a perfect face in the moonlight. "Peter!"

I leapt up and into his accepting arms. I inhaled his scent, I had missed every part of him. I was about to let go when I felt his arms pull me in tighter. I smiled, "Never let me go Peter."

He loosened his grip and pulled me away so he could see my face, "Trust me. You won't have to worry about that." I held him tighter, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

When he left me go I saw something in his eyes that I haven't seen before.

"Peter, what's wrong."

"Your parents. They must be…" He searched for the right words.

I nodded my head, "They were angry, my mother not as much, but my father was."

He looked a little shocked, "Your mother wasn't cross?"

"Well I'm sure she was, but when I came home she looked horrible. I guess that I had worried her some. I guess I don't blame her. I am the only child that is left in this house." I said thoughtfully, more to myself than Peter.

I sat down on the edge of my bed as I let other thoughts consume me.

"Wendy?" I heard Peter ask, almost timidly. How long had he been saying my name? I broke out of my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"What came of your brothers?"

I managed a smile, but it didn't last long. I invited him to sit next to me. I lowered my voice a bit and leaned closer, "They ran off to war."

His eyes widened. I put my hand on his arm when he started to stand, "Hush, my parents don't know."

Now he just look confused.

"They don't want to tell them, especially, my mother. I think that she would have a heart attack. John told my parents that they were going to work over in America. But they send me letters from camp. I am only supposed to let them know if something happens to one of them…or if they don't write to me in at least two months. But I figure by then the army would let us know."

He moved closer to me and took me hand in his. I continued to tell him about them, but it became more like a flashback as I recalled the night that they left.

It was almost dark out, right after dinner. I sat on the bed as I watched John and Michael frantically pack their bags. The announcement of war was made earlier that day.

"What will you tell mother?" I asked.

John turned and looked at Michael. My eyes widened, "You didn't think of that?" I said, loudly.

John moved and sat next to me, "We'll tell her that we got a job in America. I'll write her a letter on the train, apologizing."

I nodded slowly.

"Wendy," He said in a soft voice, and took my hand, "I need you to not tell her, unless something severe happens."

"Okay." I said simply, hesitantly. "Wendy. I'm serious." He said, his tone changing dramatically, "She won't be able to handle it."

I nodded. It was a lot to take in all at once.

"John, we need to go. Train leaves in ten minutes." I heard Michael say across the room.

John stood up and kissed my forehead, "Be good Wendy."

He walked to the window and swung his body out and lowered himself to the ground. Michael gave me a smile, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

And with that, I was left alone in the empty bedroom of my brothers'. With no idea how long it will be before I see them again.

"They haven't returned since?" He asked. I shook my head, "It's been a year." I whispered.

I smiled slightly, "I can only imagine what they would do if they saw you." He chuckled briefly, "Well what can I say? I leave an impression on people."

I laughed at his self-confidence, "Trust me, I know that first hand."

"Are you sure?" He asked getting closer to me. His hand slowly rose to my face and moved a curl brushing my cheek with his fingers. My heartbeat quickened.

"Actually, I think that you need to try a little harder." I murmured. He smirked and closed the rest of the distance between us.

Sorry (not sorry) for the cliffhanger...if you'd really call it that, the rest was just too long to put in all at once. I'll seriously update soon, runner's honor (yeah, that's not a thing). Well anyway, i just wanted to thank you all for sticking with the story for so long, you troopers!