Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine.
AN: Yes, I post short chapters. I am guilty of what I hate in other authors. Nana Two mocks me.
Chapter Three.
The world faded back in from the blackness of the swarming bees and for a moment all Wendy could remember was how utterly mortified she was. John was holding her mostly upright by main strength, and she found her footing a little slower than either of them should have liked.
"You're sure you saw him?" she asked, without preamble.
"Are you alright?"
"John, are you sure? Are you quite sure you saw him?"
"Yes I saw him!" he replied indignantly. "Looking in at you singing like his heart was fit to break. I swear I did see him! Why d'you think I took you all the way out here to tell you? He'd be insufferably pleased with himself if he could see you faint like that."
"You're sure. Oh God, John, you are sure, aren't you?" It wasn't a question. She half-turned, bringing her hand to her mouth in a dazed gesture.
"You don't have to stay here and grow up now, do you see?" John asked, taking her left hand and pressing it. Much as she hated to do it, she couldn't let that hopeful look on his face remain. She pressed back gently, her voice low and lacking that first surge of excitement she'd felt.
"It's been three years. He hasn't come to see us even once. Besides that, I'm almost sixteen - whatever would Neverland want with a great girl like me?"
"You mean, whatever would Peter want with a great girl like you."
"Maybe I do." She pressed her temple roughly. "I'm so old now, almost grown up entirely . . . it's quite impossible. Hopeless. Why, he's probably forgotten all of us, and just came to a window to hear a song."
John snorted derisively. "You wouldn't say that if you'd seen what I've seen. There he was, clear as day, if any of the grown-ups had cared to look. Quite as old as you and taller than me, I'm sure, looking exactly as if he was about to cry. I saw him as clearly as I'm seeing you now, and what's more, I've seen him hanging around the house before tonight."
"What?"
"I wasn't entirely sure then, and I couldn't tell you if I wasn't sure, but tonight – that clinched it. That was Peter, and he does love you, and you do love him, and you'll both die if you're not together."
His voice was so firm and determined as he said this that Wendy almost smiled, and though the choking feeling was back in her chest this time it didn't feel even half so bad.
"Are you sure?"
"Wendy!"
Her eyes were bright with tears but she did laugh, then, surprising them both. And then John wrapped his arms around her, and she hugged him back hard.
Smiling, John stepped back from her and looked up into the sky. "If anyone was interested," he said in a louder voice than she thought completely necessary, "We're going home now, to Wendy's room. The one right of the nursery with the unlocked window. And I bet she'd be happy to find some sort of surprise waiting there for her."
Nothing happened, but it did so in a stealthy, yet oddly cocky manner.
Light as a kiss, snow began to fall.
Wendy grabbed John's hand, her eyes shining, and at the same moment they began to walk as briskly as Wendy's corsets would allow, John largely holding Wendy up when, as one, they broke into a short run back to the Darling house.