Chapter 14: Neverland Misadventures – Mis"conception"

(When: 16ish Years Ago)

Two years passed.

Two years the guardians explored Neverland, acting as emissaries for King Arthur. Their goal was simple: inform the aliens that Fantasia was off-limits. Fantasia's space fabric was torn and the planet was vulnerable to attack. The aliens were politely instructed to keep away or they would be annihilated. King Arthur had a big magical sword, and he liked to stab things with it.

Some aliens were receptive. Some aliens were not. Some aliens had no idea Fantasia even existed until Jim and Company showed up. Regardless, each encounter was an adventure – rather, a misadventure! Nothing ever went according to plan, and the peaceful envoy usually resulted in a near-death-experience.

I wish I could tell you every tale. However, that is not the point of this story. (Plus, we don't have time. My chapter updates are infrequent as it is. Wink). The point of this story (at least, the point of The Neverland Misadventures) is to talk about the guardians and their children.

Or...their misadventures with their children.

As mentioned at the start of this chapter, two years had passed. Jim and Ariel jumped into parenthood with Silver providing god-father support. Everyone waited expectantly for Wendy and Peter to join the baby-club. In light of Jim's No More Than One Pregnancy at a Time Rule, Ariel had agreed to let Wendy bear the next child. Taking turns seemed the fairest approach to pregnancy (if not weirdest).

Peter and Wendy ravenously wanted a child. So they tried.

And tried.

And tried.

And tried.

But after two years, little Jon Hawkins was still the only baby aboard. (Well, the only baby aside from Peter. Haha joke).

Until one hopeless night...

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Wendy sighed at the ceiling. She waited for the sweet sensations to fade before untangling herself from Peter. "Maybe we're doing it wrong."

"Wrong?" Peter twirled happily over the bed. Intimacy always made him fly. The happy thoughts (and feelings) literally lifted his spirits. "What are we doing wrong?"

"This."

"What?"

"What we just...you know."

"Oh sex?"

"Peter please, have a little decorum. Someone will hear you."

"Ha, if they haven't heard us already! High five baby!"

"I think I'll pass, thank you very much."

"Haha okay! Ariel and Jim are the couple that high-fives after sex anyways. Geeks!"

"Oh dear."

"So why are you fretting about sex?"

"I'm not fretting. It's just..." Wendy slipped under the bed linens. "We've been trying for two years to have a baby. And we can't. So...we must be doing it wrong."

"Ha! Me? Doing it wrong?" Peter appeared over Wendy. Taking her hands, he circled them over his bare body. "Trust me we're doing it right. Fantastically right."

"Then why isn't it working?" Wendy demanded. She planted her hands, forcing Peter to listen. "Why can't I get pregnant?"

Peter rubbed Wendy's fingers. Honestly, he shrugged. "I don't know Wendy. I don't know."

Wendy was crushed. Clearly, their night of fun was over. Although Peter was ready for round two, he decided empathy was probably better suited for this occasion. So, sweetly as he could, Peter kissed the only article of clothing Wendy was wearing – her blue bow – and snuggled for the rest of the night.

At daybreak, Wendy went to Jim.

Jim was an early riser, mostly from necessity. As unspoken captain of the Second Star he spent every morning navigating a safe course and orchestrating the daily duties. For instance, today Jim expected to fly through an asteroid belt. Therefore, Wendy and Shadow were responsible for loading the pixie dust engines, Ariel and Peter were in charge of blasting stray asteroids from their path, Morph was the emergency lookout (in the event of a surprise pirate attack), and Silver was on babysitting patrol.

Jim was also an early riser because Jon was an early riser. Jon was two years old, but he hadn't fallen into the "terrible twos" typecast. Most two-year-olds (in Wendy's experience) were like pixies: they were very small, very opinionated, and very melodramatic.

But Jon was not. He was a quiet, composed, inquisitive little boy. As a matter of fact, Jon's biggest flaw was that he asked "why?" over and over. Jon also had a fascination with hair-pulling (everyone blamed Jim's rattail), but that was a minor infraction. It could have been worse – Jon could have been a puddle of misery and temper tantrums.

That morning, Jim and Jon were in the galley. This was atypical (Jon usually played in the nursery before breakfast), but Wendy quickly perceived why he'd switched locations. Silver was cooking Jon's favorite breakfast: hot bananas in coconut milk. Jon ...well...Jon went banana for bananas.

Wendy inhaled deeply upon entering the galley. The coconut-banana-cinnamon aroma was comforting, especially in the remoteness of outer space. Strangely, Wendy felt a twinge of homesickness, but she covered it with a bright smile.

"Good morning gentlemen."

Silver waved a kitchen whisk. Jim returned her smile. Jon (on Jim's lap) leaned expectantly across the table and proclaimed. "Game Wendy!"

"Oh my, you want a game little man?" Wendy tickled Jon's belly. "What's the magic word?"

Jon squirmed. Delightedly, he caught Wendy's hands. "Game please!"

"Ohhhh I think I can manage that. Especially since you asked so nicely. Hmmm...let's see." Wendy searched the kitchen. She was a firm believer that the best toys were imaginative, challenging, and homemade. When Michael was a baby, Wendy could occupy him for hours with nothing more than a big box.

Jon loved Wendy's creations, especially her games. His brain was a gigantic sponge, thirsting for a stimulus. Wendy suspected Jon inherited his inquisitiveness from Ariel and his determination from Jim.

"Well this is impromptu. But Jon look at this..." Wendy retrieved a spaghetti strainer. She began weaving her magical thread through the holes.

It was a simple task, but Jon was intrigued. Wendy nodded encouragingly. "See? In one...out another...in one...out another..." She gave Jon the strainer. "Time to practice our fine motor skills and hand-finger coordination."

Silver chuckled. "Aye, the exact skills he'll need te clean a pistol and pull the trigger."

"And hit a moving target." Jim added, bouncing Jon on his knee. "A moving target 500 yards away. Right buddy?"

Jon didn't answer. He was preoccupied with Wendy's invention.

Jim smiled. He rubbed Jon's head. Wendy was envious of their relationship, but she was also spellbound by their resemblance. Jon was a little Jim. He had brown hair, teal eyes, and an insatiable appetite for being challenged (even if the challenge involved weaving a thread through a spaghetti strainer).

"My he's growing fast." Wendy accepted the toast and tea Silvered offered. Taking time to steep, she waited for Silver to bustle behind the counter. "It would be nice if Jon had a playmate, wouldn't it?"

Jim was not discreet. "Yeah you pregnant yet or what?"

"Oh for heaven's sake." Wendy glanced worriedly at Silver. He was busy baking, but she still hissed quietly at Jim. "That comment was poor-taste. What if Mr. Silver heard? You are in a snarky mood this morning, that's for certain!"

Silver smirked behind his kitchen utensils. He had heard Wendy and was very pleased – he'd taught her the word snarky, specifically for instances when she was scolding Jim.

True to form, Jim was snark-ily apologetic. "Okay sorry. I should have let you bring it up in your prissy proper Wendy fashion. Let's start over, I'll pretend you just sat down...ahem...Morning Wendy. How did you sleep? Is there anything on your mind that you want to discuss?"

Wendy was simultaneously amused and irritated. "Don't flatter yourself, I came here to see Jon."

"That's rich, you came here to see me. Jon is the added bonus."

"You don't know that."

"I do know that. You got up early so we could talk in private. I can tell. You've got that look."

"What look?"

"The, I'm-about-to-bleed-my-heart-out look. So what's up?"

Wendy was suddenly embarrassed. Trying to act nonchalant, she reached for Jon's untied shoe lace. "It's...well it's actually very silly. You will think it's funny things turned out this way, considering the turmoil we went through when Peter and I were courting."

"And now we're babbling because we're nervous." interpreted Jim.

Wendy huffed. "You know it's quite unbecoming when you script my behavior. Furthermore –"

"I don't know what you were planning to say anyway?"

"—you don't know what I was planning to say anyw – oh."

Jim turned the spaghetti strainer for Jon. "What's up, Wen? Go ahead, you can tell me anything."

"Well it's just that..." Wendy felt a tug. Jon had looped all of his thread and was asking for more. Loosening an arm's length from her spool, Wendy continued. "It's just that, you and Ariel have Jon. I know that we agreed not to have children at the same time, because of the pirates, and I know Ariel wants another baby. But..."

She breathed. "But Peter and I want a child too. Desperately. And we've been trying. Really we have! Every night, whenever we can. But...but..." she looked away, blushing. "But it's not working. It's not working, regardless of how many times we try, and we've been trying since Jon was born. It's awful – well, I mean it's not awful, we've actually been enjoying ourselves and experimenting with all sorts of different –"

Jim looked sick. He covered Jon's ears. "Baby present."

"Sorry. It's just..." Wendy smoothed her hair. "Jim I think there's something wrong with me. Maybe we can't get pregnant because I can't –"

"Or Peter can't."

"Or someone can't!" Wendy exclaimed. "But either way, I think we need to see a doctor. A trained professional that can tell us what's wrong. Jim, I know you don't like to drop anchor, especially with the risk of pirates spotting us, but really in order to be fair to you and Ariel –"

"Okay."

Wendy paused. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course." Jim adjusted Jon on his knee. "There's a medical station in the next galaxy, right on the outer rim of this asteroid belt. I can drop you and Peter off and evade in the asteroids."

Wendy was shocked. "Jim...thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"No problem. I was actually wondering if you wanted kids. Ariel and I bet you would get pregnant the day after Jon was born. But now that I know the truth about you and Peter..." Jim grimaced. "Too much information."

Wendy bit her lip. "I...might have been exaggerating."

"Knowing Peter I'm sure you were understating. Please Wen – don't tell me stuff like that. Keep it in the bedroom for Peter's sake. You want your future kid to have a dad."

Wendy consented. "Duly noted."

"Thank god. So, you'll tell Peter about the medical station?"

"Yes, immediately! Well...immediately after..." Wendy lifted her hand guard. The thread (still attached to her magical spool), was looped through every hole in the spaghetti strainer. She was impossibly tangled.

Wendy and Jim looked at Jon. Victoriously, Jon clapped.

Silver chucked. "Just like his pap." he said, sprinkling extra cinnamon over his hot bananas.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Medical stations littered the Etherium. There were so many, and some would argue too many. Aliens used to joke that there were more medical stations than stars until it actually started to be true.

Queen Illysa was responsible for the medical station surplus. It met her entire political agenda: aliens wanted jobs; aliens wanted population control; aliens wanted better healthcare in deep space. Illysa's answer was to build thousands of medical stations. With each station the size of a small city, Illysa employed millions across the Etherium, while simultaneously advancing medical research.

True, she went a little overboard...but at least she upheld her campaign promises.

Although there were thousands of medical stations, Jim brought Wendy to his favorite. Yes, he had a favorite. Mostly because the medical station's name was –

"Uranus Medical Station? Uranus? As in...?" Ariel motioned to her posterior. "As in your anus?"

Jim smiled. They were alone, so he snuck a rare, wicked moment. "Yup. Uranus." Playfully, he tapped Ariel's bottom. "I think it's hilarious."

Ariel flicked her trident, returning Jim's gesture. "Oh m'gosh me too! How funny! Uranus Medical Station. Haha! What did Wendy think?"

"Of the name?"

"Yeah."

"She wasn't a fan."

"I'll bet. What did Peter think?"

"Laughed his uranus off."

"Hahaha! That's hysterical. So why is it called the Uranus Medical Station? Did someone just have a sick sense of humor?"

"Actually no. See that planet?" Jim pointed to a giant ice globe rotating on it's side. In addition to the medical station, the planet was orbited by thirteen slender rings. "That planet is called Uranus. The medical station actually revolves around it, so that's where it got it's name. Hence, Uranus Medical Station."

"Neat. But I still think it's a funny name for a hospital."

"Me too. But this galaxy has a pretty name."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah. This system is called the Milky Way Galaxy."

"Ooooo gorgeous."

"I know. I think the Milky Way is way underappreciated. It's got a reputation for being the...well uranus of the universe, but some of the coolest constellations are here. I dunno...I think it's pretty."

Ariel wholeheartedly agreed. "But..." she added as Jim prepared to board the medical station. "I still think Uranus is a funny name!"

They laughed as The Second Star landed. They stopped laughing when Wendy and Peter stormed up the gangplank.

Wendy and Peter were bickering. Ferociously.

"Well." Ariel chirped. She sidestepped as Wendy passed, protecting her shadow. "So it went well, huh?"

Peter hopped over the gangplank. "Sensational! I never had so much fun in all my life, it was HYSTERICAL!"

Wendy spun. "It was nothing of the sort! Stop it Peter! Be quiet! It's – NOT – FUNNY!"

"It's HILARIOUS!" Peter seized Wendy and swung her into the air. "Did you see the look on that doctor's face? Gah hahaha! That was the FUNNIEST thing I ever –"

"It's not funny!" Wendy squirmed free. "How can you laugh about this? How can you even—"

"Because nothing is wrong! You heard the diagnosis!" Peter shimmied Wendy's hips. "That doctor just gave us permission to frisk every second of the day! Our prescription is to have sex! Wendy – WE ARE LIVING EVERY MAN'S DREAM!"

"It's NOT – " Wendy shrieked. "—FUNNY!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down, both of you." Jim stood between them. He was very tempted to use his dad-voice, but withheld. "What happened?"

"Oh I'll tell you what happened!" Peter hooked Wendy's shoulders. "Little Mother and I are crossbreeding!"

Jim was confused. He looked at Ariel. She shrugged.

"Explain." said Jim.

"We..." Peter repeated, smooching Wendy's cheek. "...are crossbreeding."

"Peter I didn't understand it the first time and I sure as hell don't understand it now."

"Then allow me to explain Sir Rattail. You see..." Peter flicked a pointy ear. "I am half Ferngullian. Wendy is one hundred percent human. Basically, we are different species. Hence – crossbreeding!"

Had Wendy not looked so anguished, Jim would have sworn Peter was pulling a prank.

"No way." he finally said, "There's no way that's true."

"Believe it!" Peter beamed. "I'm Ferngullian and she's human! The doctor says our plumbing is nearly incompatible, which makes is harder for us to make a baby. Not impossible, but harder. Isn't that hilarious?! My boys don't like her girls, sooooooooooooooooooooooo–"

Peter smacked Wendy's bottom. "—my troops gotta bombard her inner sanctum to make the magic happen!"

Every shadow trembled under Wendy's rage. She rounded on Peter, eyes pitch black. "Peter Pan must you always be so vulgar?!"

"Me?" Peter clutched his chest. "I didn't do anything! I'm just repeating what the doctor said!"

"His language was less descriptive!"

"Oh cool your jets! He didn't say it was impossible for us to have kids!"

"Just improbable!"

"Unless we up the ante!"

"Peter how can we possibly up the ante?"

"Oh I think THAT answer is self-explanatory, Miss Darling!"

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" Wendy's forbearance was gone. She stomped away, pausing only to ascend the rigging and disappear into the crows nest.

Peter smiled as she climbed. "So cute when she's mad. Oh darling!" Peter waited for Wendy to look before hollering cheerfully through a hand. "I'll prep the boudoir!"

Wendy said something extremely unladylike that made Peter glow.

"Haha! So cute! Okaaaay dorks!" Peter zipped away. "Catch you later!"

Ariel and Jim stood, dumbstruck. Ariel scratched her head with her trident.

"So...what just happened?"

Jim sighed. "They're driving me crazy, that's what. Okay...we've got to fix this. You want Wendy or Peter?"

Ariel considered. "Peter." she finally decided, twirling her trident. "I can whack some sense into him."

"Great. I've got Wendy. Okay...ready for couples counseling?"

Ariel lifted a hand. "Sock it to me baby! Mark – set – go!"

They high-fived. Ariel went below deck for Peter. Jim went aloft for Wendy.

Jim knew Wendy was crying before he actually saw the tears. He didn't hear her – Wendy had a weird ability to cry silently – but he knew she had run away to cry in private. As anticipated, Jim found Wendy in the crow's nest, face hidden in a wet handkerchief.

He settled beside her. "Finished?"

Wendy shook her head. She coiled into a tighter knot.

Jim waited. "You planning on crying all night?"

Wendy flipped her handkerchief, pressed a dry corner to her eyes, and angrily continued to cry.

Jim half smiled. "Only you would carry a handkerchief in your space suit."

That got a little laugh. Their space suits were technological wonders. The fabric was a blend of celestial thread and graphene (a dark grey carbon alloy, 207 times stronger than steel and flexible as a feather). The combination of materials produced a lightweight fabric capable of withstanding harsh space environments. True, their graphene jumpsuits were not very flattering, but they came with lots of pockets for storage – including handkerchiefs.

Jim considered Wendy. Her handkerchief was soaked. That was concerning: this was excessive, even for her. Yeah sure, Wendy was in a sucky situation: she could only increase her changes of pregnancy by having more sex...with Peter Pan.

Gag. Hurl. Barf. Jim completely sympathized.

Still, that wasn't the end of the world. It was revolting, but it was nothing to cry about. Yes, Peter had made several uncouth remarks at Wendy's expense. But he always did that. And at this stage of their relationship, Wendy either ignored the joke or scolded Peter until he apologized. Again...nothing to cry about.

Something else was wrong.

Jim reached for Wendy's handkerchief. "So what's really going on? What else did the doctor say?"

Wendy surfaced as Jim took her handkerchief. Without it, she resorted to her sleeve. "There was more...much more...so many words I didn't understand...but...my blood...my blood that would feed the baby...if I got pregnant."

She swallowed. "My blood could...kill the baby. Because we're not the same species."

Jim frowned. "What?"

"It's...difficult." Wendy attempted an explanation. "Have you ever donated blood? You know how everyone has different blood types?"

"Sure."

"Well, when people donate blood, they can only donate to someone with the same blood type. If you combine different blood types...the blood cells...attack each other."

"Attack?"

"In simple terms, yes." Wendy wrung a dampened sleeve. "I can't remember exactly what the doctor said. But essentially, blood cells are specifically designed. Each cell has unique markers on its surface – sort of like different colored sprinkles on a donut. It helps the cell identify foreign objects in the blood. You know, like germs, or bacteria...or another person's blood cells."

Jim slowly understood. "So...because you and Peter are different species...your blood may be too different? And if your baby had Peter's blood type...the Ferngullian blood..."

Wendy finished. "My blood could kill the baby. Because we're not the same species."

Jim stared. "Oh."

Wendy tried to speak. Every word seemed to hurt. "It would happen soon...a few months after – if – I got pregnant. I'd know because...because...I'd have a miscarriage. The baby would just..." she made a motion, too horrified to explain and too tearful to try.

Jim folded the handkerchief. Calmly, he asked. "Does Peter know?"

"Yes!" Wendy answered viciously. "But he says it won't happen because his parents were different species and he didn't die! But the doctor said Peter was lucky – he inherited his mother's blood. I tried to tell Peter that our baby might not be lucky! I tried to tell him that our baby might have Ferngullian blood, which wouldn't match with mine! I tried to tell him, but Peter wouldn't listen! He's so stubborn! He's so irrational! He's so childish! He's so—"

Wendy broke down. Her eyes flickered black, a sign that her shadow working magic was provoking unhappy memories. Jim interjected before she could lose control of her powers and shadow-work the entire Milky Way Galaxy.

"Okay...okay. Wendy?" He leaned. She was sobbing. "Wendy can you hear me?"

Wendy nodded. She mumbled something that sounded like blubber blubber blubber, which Jim inferred was what am I going to do?

"Well for starters, you've got a husband down there ready to have kids. Wendy..." Jim hardened his voice. "You have to tell him no. This isn't a little thing. This is a big thing. You need to tell Peter no. He'll understand."

"He doesn't understand."

"He will if you tell him."

"I did tell him."

"Did you say no? Point blank? Put your foot down – I know you can do it, I've seen it done. So did you?"

A miserable sniff. "No."

"Then you have to tell him." Jim squeezed her hand. "It's that simple."

"But I want children..."

"I know what you want. But it's too dangerous."

"But what about..."

"No what abouts. Wendy. No."

After that Wendy was inconsolable. And for once, Jim let her cry. He and Ariel lived for adventure, for the thrill of discovery, for the challenge of the unknown. Wendy and Peter enjoyed adventuring as well...but their dream was to have a family. They wanted to settle in paradise, establish roots, and live forever through their children.

Wendy especially. She loved children. She always had. When her mother died, Wendy raised her brothers and she treated the responsibility as a privilege, not a burden. As a student, Wendy wanted to be a pediatric doctor. Had she not been gifted with shadow working and chosen to be the Underworld guardian, she probably would have achieved that goal. And now, with little Jon in their lives, Wendy nurtured him as her own.

But now...it was quite possible that Wendy would never have children. Jim knew she was devastated. Wendy wanted children. She wanted to expand the family she and Jim had started so long ago – a network of Hawkins and Pans that supported each other through thick and thin.

And now...this.

Jim wished he could solve her problem. It was an impossible challenge. Still, Jim tried. Rubbing Wendy's shoulder, he set his mind to work. Suddenly the answer came. And it was so obvious.

"Wen." Jim smiled, feeling stupid that he hadn't thought of the answer before. "What about adoption?"

Wendy emerged, cheeks glistening. "Adoption?"

"Yeah. Oh my god it's perfect." Jim beamed, excited by his solution. "Mom adopted you, John, and Michael into our family. Peter was an orphan. Jesus Christ, you both understand what it means to be a lonely kid without parents. Think about it. Think about finding a child with no future...then giving them a family."

Wendy smiled tearfully. "I...I suppose that would be alright."

"Of course it would."

"Peter might like that."

"Of course he would."

"Well...I...I feel better." Wendy dried her cheeks. She laughed gently as Jim helped. "Thank you Jim. Thank you so much. I...I had better...well Peter's waiting for me."

"Yeah." Jim helped her lower from the crow's nest. "Get down there tiger."

Wendy cringed. "I wish you hadn't said that."

Jim agreed. "I wish I didn't know why I said that."

They paused as the Second Star swept by Uranus. The planet rolled steadily within it's thirteen rings, gleaming just enough to light Wendy's smile.

"Good night Jim."

"Night Wen. Sleep on the adoption thing. And..." Jim handed Wendy her handkerchief. "I promise...everything will be okay."

It was happily that Wendy descended. Jim's advice was not perfect, but it was certainly better than the doctor's dead-end diagnosis. Jim had given her reasonable hope. What's more, he'd also given her the confidence she needed to reason with Peter Pan.

Sliding from the rigging, Wendy bade Silver goodnight, admired the Milky Way Galaxy one last time, then retired to her bedroom.

Peter was waiting.

"Hullo." Kneeling, Peter took Wendy's little hand. He removed her shadow working gauntlet and gave her a kiss. "Forgive me?"

Wendy brushed his ridiculous, unruly red hair. "Oh my dear, silly boy."

Peter grinned. "Come on pretty girl." He guided her over the threshold. As they drifted towards the bed, he kissed her tearstains. "Let me dry those for you."

It was magical night.

Perhaps too magical.

Because a quiet, unassuming month later, Wendy burst into the galley, looking for Jim. She was bloodshot, frazzled, and almost speechless.

"Jim – I'm—"

She didn't finish. In part, because Peter was crowing at the top of his lungs. "CRAAWWWHH AWH AAHHH AWH AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! YEAHHHHHH! WAHHHH HOOOOOOO! I'M GOING TO BE A FATHER!"