Author's Note: Hey people! I'm back! I'm finally updating after how many weeks? It's nice to be writing again. School has been taking up much of my time. I am swamped with so much work. Okay, getting off that topic…it's too stressful to talk about. I am in my fan fiction mode right now. I finally got a teeny break in my busy schedule to sit at the computer and write. Thanks so much for the reviews, as always, it is a pleasure reading them. Is anyone watching "Clubhouse"? All right, well, here's the new installment of "No Longer a Child". Hope you all like it.

Part 2

Chapter 1: Losing Hope

Why must he go so soon? Wendy wants to ask Peter this as he floats outside her window. Everyone calls her to come back in and celebrate. She wants to hold onto this moment for a little longer before he disappears forever. "Please stay!" Wendy yearns to cry out. She knows she cannot because she would probably frighten him away and he would never come back. Desperation pulls her to the edge of the window, where she watches him sadly. Her whole being urges her to take a step further and to join him in the sky. He says he will not forget her and he will come back to hear more stories.

How does Wendy know he is not lying? He flies away and she turns back to the nursery. "Peter!" she yells in her heart. She forgot to tell him she loved him. She keeps telling herself that he will return, but she is not sure. He will forget her, and in time, he will dissipate from her memory too. She sees her mother and father beckoning to her with tears in their eyes. John, Michael, and her new brothers are dancing around them, talking wildly about their adventures. She joins her family, never looking at the window, and chooses to forget.

Wendy takes a sharp breath as she sits up in bed, holding fast to her covers. She looks around wide-eyed, unsure of what has just occurred. It was only a bad dream, Wendy repeats in her thoughts. Peter has not left, has he? He came back to her, he was at the gathering last night. The intense weight that caused her to awake so suddenly does not feel so overbearing and Wendy relaxes. She slips into her robe; the room is quite dark for the morning. From downstairs, Wendy can discern the grandfather clock tolling nine times, which means it is 9 A.M. She pushes away the curtains from the window, only to be greeted by a dismal sky complete with torrents of rain. How awful! Wendy thinks, staring listlessly outside. What is this sudden change in the weather?

She steals downstairs, as quietly as the creaky steps will let her, to the kitchen. Nana is curled up in the corner with her head in between her paws. She looks up when Wendy tiptoes in and growls gently. "Good morning, Nana," Wendy whispers as she pushes her tousled hair behind her ears. "What happened last night? I cannot remember."

Nana wags her tail, whining sadly, determined to communicate with Wendy. "Perhaps, I do not want to remember." She bites her lip, thinking of the night's past events. She has tried to block them out, no doubt about that. Wendy remembers her father saying that they would speak further about the matter in the morning. What matter was that?

"Oh no!" Wendy gasps, sitting back on the floor. The matter is Peter. Peter was upstairs in the nursery and he left with the children to go to Neverland. "This is not good."

"No, it's not," someone says from behind her. Wendy's heart sinks when she turns around. George is standing in the doorway, already dressed for the day. "Good morning, Wendy. What are you doing on the floor?" He says this in such a stern tone that Wendy does not know how to answer. He walks around her and goes to the teapot for his morning drink.

"Hello Father," Wendy murmurs. "I was just saying hello to Nana." She rises to her feet, shuffling back and forth, before retreating to the door. Before she can make an escape, George takes a seat at the kitchen table and beckons for Wendy to come sit too. An incensed sigh emits from Wendy's lips as she hesitantly places herself opposite her father and waits for the worst.

"Sit up, Wendy, don't slouch," George orders and Wendy straightens her back. He sounds like Aunt Millicent. "Did you sleep well?"

"No, unfortunately."

"The night seemed to draw out forever, with everything that occurred and such." Wendy nods her agreement, but she is not really listening. Suddenly, she feels a strong animosity toward Peter and everything that he did to make her that way. "Your aunt and uncle were in hysterics before they left."

Wendy can recall telling her parents who Peter really was and their reactions. They did not believe her at first. Aunt Millicent called it rubbish and everyone began reprimanding her for letting a boy upstairs and asking her what impelled this rebellious behavior. John came to her rescue, and all the boys. They told George and Mary that Peter used to be Peter Pan, but he left Neverland to grow up. Aunt Millicent cut the party short and sent everyone home. George and Mary did not have a clue as to what to tell the Eddingtons about their boy. They wanted to call the police, but Wendy stopped them. She told them he ran away for a while, but he would return soon. Lillian and Frederick had no inkling of what was going on; Wendy told them to keep their window open for the children. All of them would come back in due time and that was the truth (or so she hoped). Wendy remembers seeing Lillian crying in Frederick's arms when they walked out, and Patricia with a look of pure shock on her face. They did not know the real truth about Peter – how he could fly, and how he used to live in a fairytale land. They did not have to know.

"Wendy." She blinks twice, having been pulled out of her reverie. The rain is streaming down the kitchen window and it is quiet. "Are you listening, Wendy?"

"Yes, Aunt Lillian and Uncle Frederick were panicking. I know that. I was there," Wendy responds, rubbing her hands together. "Do you believe me, Father? Do you believe what I explained to you about Peter?" George drums his fingers against the smooth surface of the table, but does not speak.

"I have my doubts, but after hearing you and your brothers, I do believe you in some sense." George stops for a minute, before continuing. "You have feelings for this boy?" Wendy begins to feel her cheeks grow warm and she looks away. Feelings? Yes, she cares for him greatly. But love? Yes, she did ask him about love. She thought she loved him when she was thirteen, seeing as she did not have any experience. Now, that she is sixteen, she knows that love comes gradually, and it comes when you least expect it. She knows that these feelings are progressing though, into something much more.

"I do have strong feelings towards Peter," Wendy replies as a small smile plays at her lips. "He is a very respectable young man, Father." George sighs loud enough for Wendy to hear him.

"I suppose he is. You know, I have never forgiven him for taking you and your brothers to whatever place he took you to." At that moment, Wendy notices something peculiar about her father. There is some sort of malice in his eyes, like he is reliving some horrific memory from his past. He rubs his hands together, gazing at Wendy with a disapproving air. Captain Hook! That is whom he reminds her of. Her whole body tenses as she averts her eyes and stares at the floor. Her fingernails bite into the wooden arms of the chair; she dares not look at George.

"It wasn't his fault. I chose to go with him." She stops when she thinks about that wonderful feeling of flying. There were no limits; she was free, like a bird. "I do hope he comes back soon."

"And what if he doesn't?" This statement forces Wendy to look up at her father in perplexity. What does he mean if he does not come back? Surely, he is returning, right?

"What if he doesn't?" Wendy bites her lip, debating over this question. "He is coming back, Father, I know it." George drums his fingers against the table's surface and shakes his head.

"Let's say you don't know. Dear girl, what if he does not return? What if you never see him again?" He narrows his eyes at his daughter and two pairs of blue glare fiercely at each other. Wendy's heart sinks; she does not know why she is so angry.

"I – do not know." She knows that this is the response he does not want to hear. Well, then, let him answer for me.

"You will move on and marry…your mother and I have been discussing your future. We think that Philip Winston is a suitable marriage partner for you." Wendy wants to scream at this moment. How can he do this? This is my punishment, I am sure of it! What shall I do?

"I am only sixteen, Father," Wendy replies, trying to keep calm. "I am not ready for such a large responsibility… Besides, Mr. Winston is the last man I would ever want to wed."

"You haven't any choice, Wendy. We are your parents and we know what is best for you. Most girls are wed by their seventeen year, and you will be ready to take on the duties of a wife by then."

"Philip is not the best for me. If I chose anyone…" Wendy starts, "it would be Peter."

"I'm sorry, but Peter is not an option now," George says gravely and Wendy rises from her seat. She is shaking because she is so irritated. She leaves the kitchen, retreating upstairs in a hurried pace. John is coming down the hallway, obviously still in his dream state. He rubs his forehead and pushes his glasses up over his drowsy eyes.

"Hmm…morning Wendy," he slurs as Wendy stalks past him. She does not answer him. "What's wrong?" She turns around with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

"Nothing that concerns you," she whispers, disappearing into her room and shutting the door.

John knows something is amiss; all the boys do. They are also waiting for Peter to come back with their cousins. Tinkerbell must have come…how Nibs and Curly wanted to see her again! They feel bad for Wendy and blame Peter for abandoning their sister. John knows how much she likes him, maybe even loves him, and it is quite hard to see her let down. He is going to have to talk with Peter when he gets back.

The rest of the day drags on. Wendy keeps to her room for most of the afternoon, coming out only to do her chores. She looks like she has cried quite a lot and she leaves her hair cascading down her shoulders. Mary tries to talk with her, but Wendy does not care to talk. Aunt Millicent visits for tea; Wendy hears her parents talking with her about that morning.

Wendy is losing hope quickly. All she thinks about is what would have happened if she had reached Peter in time. She does not doubt that she could have stopped them. What if what her father said was true? If Peter does not return, what will she do? Her parents have obviously planned her future out for her and she will have to accept that. It pains her to think of marrying another and never knowing if Peter was truly the one. She ponders over the life she would have if she were to marry Philip. Maybe, it would not be so bad. Perhaps she has not given him much of a chance.

Soon, evening falls over England and everyone is preparing for sleep. She does not bid goodnight to any of her family, but lounges on her bed and reads a book. The weather is still awful outside; it has not stopped raining either. A hard downpour falls onto the streets, making the roads slick and inhibiting carriages from getting around. Few people are outside. A crack of thunder catches Wendy off-guard and she cringes in fright. She has left the window open, despite the raging storm. She falls into a restless slumber with the end table candle flickering in the damp air and thunder rumbling ominously overhead.

The moon is but a sliver of white, hidden by the dark clouds suspended over the city. The houses are shrouded in darkness, as is the room in which Wendy sleeps. The candle has long burned out. Wendy tosses and turns, her brow soaking with sweat and few words escaping her lips. Rain falls stealthily on the roofs, dripping wet with sorrow. A thin, white bolt of lightning sets ablaze the stormy night and illuminates a drenched shadow flying in between the houses.

She waits for him to return.

The curtains are damp from the rain and they hang lifelessly at the sides of the window. Framed against it is a young man, holding onto the slick frame for support. He jumps from the windowsill, into the room, landing softly as to not wake the sleeping form.

Her wish has been fulfilled…

Author's Note: Okay, I know it is a cliffhanger, but I really need to go do homework. I have a lot of major tests that I need to study for too. Poor Wendy and Mr. Darling. I had to put in that argument as a foreshadowing of what is (possibly) going to happen in coming chapters. Ooh! Please review, my faithful readers, because I know you want to tell me how long I've waited to update and how soon you want me to continue! So, send a review! I always love reading them. It's an escape from doing homework, ha ha. (I'd like to hit the 300 mark, because the story is so close to achieving it!) Bye!