Peter heard the giggles of children and was instantly reminded of the Lost Boys. He felt a pang as he realized he missed them. Charlotte stopped and turned to smile at him. She put a finger to her lips before she opened the door. Peter could see at least ten young children, no older than five, all sitting in the floor or in their beds and turned toward the back of the room. He saw a figure pressed against the wall, her face turned away from them all and in a crouching position, holding an umbrella above her head like a sword.

"So Pan, this is all your doing. To which Peter replied, Aye James Hook, it's all my doing. And Hook pulled his sword from his sheath and held it before him. Proud and insolent youth, he said, prepare to meet thy doom. And Peter cried, have at thee!" She jumped in the air and thrust her umbrella around, causing the children to shriek with laughter. She whirled around and Peter gasped; the light made Gwen's face glow beautifully and her smile was evident, her eyes sparkling. Peter watched her reenact his great battle with Hook. The children and Charlotte started calling out supportive words, making believe that Gwen was Peter. Peter watched silently, vastly amused. The children were loving every minute of it; several of the staff were sitting on the beds with some children who could not move from their beds and were clapping and cheering along with the rest of them. Gwen spun around and lowered her umbrella.

"And Peter kicked Hook to the crocodile and Hook cried "bad form" before he fell into the monster's jaws. Thus perished Captain James Hook." The room exploded into cheers and applause and Gwen smiled around at all of them.

"Yay for Peter Pan," cried a little boy no older than three and Gwen bent down and hugged him around the middle.

"Another story, Gwendy," another cried and Gwen opened her mouth to answer but saw Charlotte waving to her from the back of the room. Peter sucked in a breath at the nickname the children had called her. It hit much too close to home, he felt.

"I'll be back in a moment, dear ones." She heard disappointed groans and smiled at them as she passed. She reached Charlotte and reached down to hug her.

"Always quite the storyteller," Charlotte said as she hugged her friend.

"You know me," Gwen said with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"It comes and goes. I hear congratulations are in order. Little Gwendy is playing Wendy Darling, then?"

"You know this is the only place I acknowledge that nickname. But yes, it's true. And I expect you to be at opening night." Charlotte squeezed her hand.

"You know I wouldn't miss it. I very much miss dance class," she added sadly. Gwen looked saddened.

"You'll be dancing again in no time."

"Not this time, Gwendy. Fairy dust and happy thoughts can't fix this. The doctors say the cancer has spread from my leg to the other cartilage. They don't think I'll walk again."

"You will," Gwen said firmly. "and you'll be dancing with me in New York one day."

"That's my Gwen. Always dreaming. Always believing." Gwen gave her a sad smile and turned to Peter.

"Who's your friend?"

"Oh I just met him in the hall but he looked quite blue so I asked him to come along to hear your story. Peter, isn't it?" Peter nodded and Gwen's eyes darted to his.

"Peter?" she repeated. Peter slowly nodded, his gaze boring into hers. She gasped and took a step back. Charlotte did not notice and she wheeled forward a little.

"You should ask her out for a date, Peter. She refuses to date the eligible lads at the school. Unless you attend the Royal Ballet School, that is?"

"I don't dance much," he said with a smile, never tearing his eyes from Gwen's. Charlotte giggled.

"I should get back upstairs. Gwen, come see me before you leave? Gwen?" Gwen tore her eyes from Peter's and shook her head.

"Oh. Of course Charlotte. I'll be up momentarily." Charlotte squeezed her hand again and wheeled backward out of the room.

"Nice to have met you Peter," she called as she rolled away.

"You too," he muttered, still staring straight forward. When she was gone, Gwen spoke very quietly.

"It can't be. You can't be the boy I met several days ago. Tell me you're not that boy."

"I'm not," he said quietly. But Gwen stamped her foot.

"Yes you are! You're different but your eyes are the same. Tell me the truth."

"You just said I wasn't. Now you're sure I am. Would you make up your mind?"

"Peter, WHO are you?"

"You just answered your own question." Gwen folded her arms and looked cross.

"Stop playing games with me."

"I'm not!"

"Yes you are. Come on." She grabbed his arm and dragged him out into the hallway, away from the stares of the children and staff. His arm tingled where she touched him but she did not release her hold on him until they were far from the ward. They stopped in front of a beautiful stained glass window and Peter turned to stare at it, captivated. It depicted a baby and fairies emerging, clearly the beginning of fairies. Gwen started to speak but saw what he was staring at and smiled.

"When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies," Peter read a loud.

"Is that true?" Gwen asked, staring up at the window. Peter raised his brow and glanced sideways at her.

"Why are you asking me?"

"You claim to be Peter Pan. You should know." He merely shrugged and turned away. Gwen watched him as he kept his back to her.

"You didn't deny it."

"I didn't confirm it either. I don't know what you're talking about Gwen. If you'll excuse me," he started off to head back to his room but was blocked by a glowering Gwen.

"Don't insult my intelligence. I may believe in childish things like Peter Pan and fairies but I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were stupid nor did I call those things childish. But you want the truth and I'm afraid I can't give it to you. Excuse me." He moved sideways but was blocked again. He threw his hands up in the air and gave her an irritated glare.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want the truth," she repeated.

"I told you the truth. You called me mad. There's nothing more I can say." Gwen was stunned and allowed him to move by this time. She didn't stop him as he trudged up the stairs and back to his room. Her mind raced. She didn't know if she believed him or not. If he was lying, it was a very farfetched lie and one that would not gain him anything but a trip to the institution. And if it was the truth, she was in for a very big adventure.


Peter found himself feeling weak and drained as he made it back to the room, threw the shirt aside, and collapsed on the bed. He had just shut his eyes when Gwen appeared around the corner and peered into his room. She stared at the handsome teen lying on the bed, his blanket pulled around his waist, leaving his muscular chest bare. His golden curls looked tousled, his skin looked golden and tanned. Gwen leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

"How did you grow?" Peter's eyes shot open and he leaned up to see a girl in his room.

"What?"

"How did you grow," she repeated the question. Peter blinked several times and shook his head.

"I don't…"

"I won't call you mad. How did you grow?" he stared at her for a moment, his brain considering the many different answers he could give her. What came out was the truth.

"I admitted something that I long ago denied. And I think I'm finally starting to feel…things. I think those feelings made me grow." Gwen's eyes widened. She knew very well what he was talking about but she stayed quiet.

"What do you feel?"

"Lots of things," he said after hesitating for a moment. Gwen continued to watch him as he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Why do you think I'm Wendy?" Peter shrugged and Gwen moved further into his room.

"Peter, why do you think I'm her," she said gently. Peter made himself look at her but found that was a mistake; she had Wendy's eyes. The very same blue depths that had made him weak in the knees. He felt his mouth going dry. He watched her move across the room and sit in the chair next to his bed.

"The fairies told me about something called…reincarcination. They said Wendy's soul might have come back."

"You mean reincarnation?" she said, not being able to help smiling. Peter shrugged irritably.

"Whatever it's called. They said Wendy's soul might have returned. That I would have to find her and make her remember me. Only pieces of her soul have returned and they said she wouldn't remember anything." Gwen looked down and bit her lip. Peter's eyes went to those lips and he spotted the hidden kiss in the corner. He leaned forward but stopped himself and leaned back onto the pillow.

"How are you supposed to make her remember? If you do find her?"

"I have no idea," he said into the pillow. She watched him sadly as her mind and heart raced. She had felt strangely drawn to this boy…young man, now. And her strange obsession with all things Peter Pan? Was this why? Was she secretly Wendy Darling, come back to life? It sounded absurd, even to her. She shook her head. It wasn't possible. She stood beside his bed and cleared her throat.

"I suppose I'd better let you rest. Er, when are they letting you leave?"

"Your father said he wants to run some more tests," he said grumpily and she smiled again.

"Daddy just loves to take care of everyone. He means well. And he's the best doctor in London. Don't you worry." She started to leave but turned back to find him watching her.

"I don't suppose you have any family here in London. Where are you staying?"

"The rooftop of whatever building I land on," he replied dully. Gwen stared at him then shook her head.

"I'll see you soon, Peter." And she was gone. Peter let out a deep, frustrated sigh and leaned back against the pillow.

"I want to go home," he whispered, blinking back the tears that threatened to stain his cheeks.