Title: Madly in Love

Summary: When Wendy came back from Neverland and started telling people about her experiences, they all thought she was crazy… literally. Can she convince anyone to believe her? And what if they don't

Author's Note: After some constructive criticism from a friend, I've realized that the last chapter was way too rushed, so now I'm trying to focus on the quality of the chapter instead of just getting it out there. Hopefully, it'll actually pay off and make my chapter better.

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"My family?" Wendy repeated.

"Yes. Tell me a bit about them. Are you close with your family?" inquired Dr. Smith.

"Yes, I suppose I am. Not as much as before though. I used to share a room with my brothers, but my parents moved me into my own room shortly after I turned thirteen at the request of my Aunt."

"Now, your Aunt Millicent," interrupted the doctor. "Are you close to her as well?"

"Not so much. She always seemed much too stuffy and boring to me. She never really appreciated me very much. However, she did try to teach me manners out of the good of her heart," answered Wendy. "Or maybe out of the desire to protect her own reputation."

"Did you enjoy her lessons?"

"Not really. I mostly tolerated them."

"Why was that?"

"They were very uneventful and she never taught me anything I particularly cared to learn. It was just how to sit or how to eat or how to tie a corset."

"Do you harbor bitterness towards your Aunt?"

"No, she just isn't very near and dear to me."

They continued to talk about family for a long while, but Dr. Smith kept coming back to the subject of Aunt Millicent. Why that was, Wendy wasn't sure. However, he almost seemed to be looking for a specific answer with all of his questions, like he was trying to invoke a certain response. She would try to move on to her mother and father and he would somehow relate them to Aunt Millicent again and then jot down notes on a pad of paper. It became almost annoying and Wendy was very relieved when he finally changed the subject from family.

"Your records tell me that you attempted suicide before being admitted here, correct?" he asked while thumbing through her file that sat on his desk.

"No. That's not it at all! I wasn't trying to commit suicide!" Wendy rebutted.

"Then please clarified the situation, my dear."

"I'm not suicidal. I fell out of the window."

"Is that so? Then what, pray tell, where you doing hanging out of the window in the first place? Especially at such a late hour, I might add."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, sir," said Wendy, fiddling with the gold tassels on the pillow.

"We'll see about that. Come now, out with it," Dr. Smith coaxed.

"It's a very long story."

"We still have a lot of time left in our session."

Wendy took a deep breath and pondered whether or not she should tell him the honest truth. What hurt could it do, right?

"I was trying… trying to fly," Wendy forced out.

"Is that so?" Dr. Smith scribbled something down on his paper.

"I was trying to get to a place called Neverland. It's where a boy named Peter Pan lives. He promised me that he'd come back every once in a while to visit me but he hadn't, and I was beginning to get worried. He told me that people could fly if they could come up with one bright and cheery thought. I reasoned that if I could fly to him, I could see him again."

"Whoa! Slow down, young lady! You're going to fast for me here. Now, start from the beginning. Who is Peter Pan?"

"A boy who never grows up. I met him when I was younger"

"Alright then. And you say that you were trying to fly to Featherland."

"Neverland."

"Yes, pardon me. Neverland. You were trying to fly to Neverland to see Peter. Am I understanding this correctly?"

When he had said it all out loud the way that he did, it suddenly sounded like so foolish that Wendy almost felt embarrassed. Trying to collect her thoughts to explain it properly, she looked aimlessly around the room and tuned out the doctor for a moment.

"Almost five years ago, Peter came through my window and took me and my two brothers to Neverland. There, we met with the lost boys who became my five other brothers. We adopted them. Peter wouldn't stay though but said he'd come back sometime. It seemed like it had been a very long time so I was concerned that Peter had forgotten to come back. I thought that I could come to him since he didn't come to me."

She continued on to tell the whole fall in detail. When she finished, Dr. Smith wrote more on his notepad and a long silence passed between them. She waited for him to ask another question, and played with the trimming on the pillow some more. Before she realized it, she had accidentally plucked out one of the tassels and nearly gasped. With no idea what else to do with it, she made sure Dr. Smith wasn't looking then stuffed it in-between the couch cushions. Becoming slightly uncomfortable, Wendy asked how much time they had left.

"Thirty-seven minutes," he replied without even looking at his watch. "It blew right past, didn't it?"

"Yes."

"It's a wonder how quickly time will pass when you're talking. I just have a few more questions to ask and then you can go."

"Alright."

The rest of the session was more small talk, like he was trying to fill up the remaining forty minutes. He didn't even write down anything she said in that last block of time, so it was obvious that they really weren't doing anything productive, just time wasting time chit-chatting.

A small bell clang stopped Dr. Smith in the middle of saying how lovely the weather had been. He glanced over at the wooden clock on a shelf near the back of the room and turned back to Wendy.

"Our first time together is over. I don't know about you, but I quite enjoyed it. And it was rather… informative," he said cordially. Wendy smiled.

"I'll be going then, sir," said Wendy in conclusion. He said goodbye and she exited the room. Once in the hallway, she tried to locate her way back to her cell. Her schedule was still sitting on the desk in there. And without Eliza, it was the only thing that told her where to go.

It was quite a relay race to get through the hall which was full of patients going to their next activity.

"Excuse me. Pardon me, sir. I'm very sorry," she kept apologizing while she pushed against the flow of people to find the room. How she hated having to be polite sometimes. If she had wanted to, she could have shoved right through and gotten out in an instant. As she passed through the hall, she looked up to see the numbers on the cell doors. "What was my room number again?"

Wendy stopped in her tracks. She couldn't even remember what room she was in. It was the first day and she had already forgotten it. Reprimanding herself mentally, she pressed on through the stream of people and hoped that she would at least figure out where she was soon. She hoped to be able to get to the front desk to ask Bridget where he room was. Surely she would know.

She saw an empty hallway to her right and decided to take it. It might take longer, but at least it would be easier than trying to get past these patients. So she gently zigzagged her way through the inmates and to the abandoned hallway.

"Finally," she breathed. Not wasting any time, Wendy strolled down the hall in search of something familiar that would lead her in the right direction. "If I just walk long enough, I'm bound to see someone or something I know."

While she was walking, she got this peculiar feeling inside her that made her worry. Something felt wrong. An aura in the air was making her stomach churn like it first had when she was walking up to the institute. Something felt strange and sinister and the feeling was growing stronger the farther she walked. But Wendy Darling was never one to give into her fear. She sucked up her fright and pressed on, hoping that her foreboding feeling was just paranoia.

Out of the corner of her eye, something moved. When she looked over she saw a face staring at her from the small window on a cell door. Of course, these widows were not filled with glass but instead it looked like a chain-link fence. The face was of a middle aged man, just showing from his nose up. He looked like a little child waiting at the window for his parents to come home and Wendy smiled. The man seemed harmless enough so she waved weakly.

The man suddenly started slamming into the door, shouting obscenities at Wendy. Wendy screamed at the top of her lungs as he continued and even managed to shake loose some of the screen covering the window. Without hesitation, Wendy lifted up her nightdress and ran. She ran as fast as she could but was still followed by faces watching her from their own screened windows. Some others heard the commotion and became frightened. They joined in the hysteria with their own howling and Wendy closed her eyes and kept running, so terrified that she started crying. She didn't dare look back. She darted down the hallways, turning onto different ones and still finding just room after room of out of control patients. The perfectly void white made her feel like she was running straight into the light of the sun. She couldn't see anything clearly.

Gallons of adrenaline pumped through her veins and in all her confusions and terror, she had completely lost all sense of direction and was even more lost than when she first started out. And though her legs felt like water, she had to keep going out of the fear of what might lay behind her.

With a small trip over the hem of the nightgown, Wendy went skidding down the hallways on her side very painfully. When she stopped, she didn't move but her whole body heaved with sobs. She was absolutely horrified. Her eyes were wide open unlike before when she tried to squeeze them shut to hide herself from the crazy patients. The shock held her eyes as large as they could open while she sat and cried, out loud and with no restraints. The screaming from the inmates was still echoing up and down the colorless corridors. None were fading, they just kept yelling and crying out and Wendy had no idea why.

"What did I do?" she cried. "What did I do wrong?"

She instinctively curled up and covered her face with her hands while the haunting sounds of wailing surrounded her. She pushed the honey brown hair that fell around her face out of the way, and her tears fell like a flood as she shook uncontrollably.

"I want to go home. I need my mother. I want to leave," she babbled through her weeping. "Mother…"

"Mother."

Wendy jumped at the sound of a slurring voice. She nervously looked around and to her surprise, she saw Noodle standing at the end of the hallway. He repeated sloppily, "Mother."

"Noodle!" she exclaimed. She felt relief wash over her when she saw his gentle face. He scuttled over to her with very little coordination and held out a hand. She looked up from the floor blankly. What did he want from her? He poked her lightly and then held it out again, incase she hadn't seen it before. Then Wendy took his hand and he helped her up. It was then that she realized that Noodle was almost exactly the same height at her. He tugged on her hand and sped off down the passageway. She followed close behind and in a few moments, they were out of the screaming halls. Bursting through a pair of doors, they appeared in the waiting room where Bridget was sitting at the desk, still peering over papers. She snapped her head up when she heard them run in and she clicked her tongue.

"What are you two doing out here? You're supposed to be in the recreational room!" she scolded. When she came to push them back through the doors, she saw Wendy's pink, tear-stained face and her eyes softened. She said, "Sweetheart, what in heaven's name happened to you? You look dreadful!"

"I- I don't know," Wendy hiccupped. "Where's El-Eliza?"

"I would imagine she's having her leisure time. Let's get you to her, lassie," suggested Bridget. She put an arm around Wendy shoulders and stroked her hair, trying to calm her. Noodle let go of Wendy's hand and followed the suit while all three went to the recreational room together. The few patients that they passed stared at Wendy almost curiously and she felt suddenly very ashamed of herself.

The recreational room was extra full and extra loud this time she visited and it was hard to find Eliza. However, Bridget stayed and helped her look, never leaving Wendy's side for a moment. Then a flash of blonde hair caught their attention.

"Eliza!" Bridget called over the noise. "Eliza, come here."

"What is it?" answered Eliza, poking her head out of the throng of people.

"Wendy, dear, was looking for you," said Bridget.

"You mean Wendy Darling?" Eliza corrected. She seemed to be jumping in order to get a view of them.

"Yes, yes. But she needs you, la. She seems very upset.'

Eliza hurried to the entrance and met up with the three. When she saw Wendy, she immediately asked the very popular question, "What happened?"

"I was tr-trying to find my way b-back to the room," Wendy stuttered, still shaken up.

"Lost Hallway," Noodle suddenly interjected. His speech was very muddled and hard to understand as if he never really learned how to speak properly. So it sounded like he said 'Lost her way.'

"Yes, I lost my w-way," said Wendy.

"No," Eliza stopped her. "The Lost Hallway. It's a place."

"Eliza, I have to return to the front. Please take care of our Wendy here," Bridget said, interrupting. She gave Wendy one more squeeze on the shoulder then turned and left. Eliza nodded and then looked back at Wendy.

"Hold on, follow me," Eliza said over the other voices. She walked off in a random direction and beckoned Wendy to follow. Leading them both to a lavatory, she stepped inside and pulled the older girl in with her. The noise was not nearly as bad as in the normal rec. room. Here, Wendy could tell what went on. But the first thing Wendy did was throw herself on Eliza and embrace her. Though stunned at first, Eliza did return the hug and waited patiently for Wendy to let go. For a few moments, she just cried and clung to her friend.

"I was so scared," Wendy mumbled.

"You went down the Lost Hallway. It's the worst place in all of the asylum," Eliza explained. Funny how up till now, everyone else had called it the 'institute'. Eliza was the first was to refer to it as what it really was.

"What is it?" Wendy inquired, wiping her eyes and letting go.

For a moment, there was just silence.