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: I've decided to answer a few of the reviews that I've gotten so far.

I'm Nobody: Yes, you're the first one. I rather enjoyed your "THIS IS A FLAME" review. I started cracking up (even though I was expecting it). Made my day. And you always send the most helpful reviews. Am I getting better at filling the asylum up? I hope so, b/c I was really trying to listen to your advice. I love you. (P.S.- I might just make Noodle and Eliza end up together just for you. lol… maybe.)

Lisha Lane: Thanks! Glad that you like it so far. Yes, Peter hasn't made his appearance yet. There will be a few little moments when Peter appears but he won't truly make his grand entrance until the end. I'm sorry for everyone who wanted to see him sooner!

Kasmira36: As much as I enjoy a good Peter/Wendy pairing fic, I'm sad to say that this probably won't really be much of one. Let me make this clear- this is a story about Wendy. Partially because my story idea can't have Peter until the end and partially because Wendy got near-to no character development in the 2003 movie. We figured out Peter, but as I was writing this I was still trying to understand Wendy's personality. She's a little trickier than Peter. All that to say, there will be Peter/Wendy-ness in the very last chapter but the fic is essentially centered around Wendy.

By the way, everyone: if you're very good about remembering details then you might want to check out chapter 2 once again because I revised it due to some errors that I recently noticed. Like how in chapter 2 it's snowing and in chapter 3 the sun is shining and it's warm weather. Little things like that and Wendy's condition after her fall. If you never noticed these things (kind of like me… and I freaking wrote it) then pay no mind to what I'm saying. Sorry for the obscenely long Author's Note. :S

P.S.- Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of the start of this fic… Kind of sad that I had a whole year and I've only gotten ten chapters. I'm slow like that.

REVIEW

Two weeks…

It had been two weeks since Wendy's admittance into the asylum and George and Mary were practically sick with worry. Every night, they both stayed up later than normal just wondering how their precious daughter was. George was even worse than Mary. Very quickly, the guilt of what he had subjected Wendy to set in and he could barely live with himself. And every time he thought about his decision to send Wendy to live in that god-forsaken place, it took all he had to keep his composure. More than once, he had hidden in some room in his house and wept for his innocent daughter, who had been accused of something that he knew was false.

'How could I let that doctor control me that way?' he would brood over miserably. 'What a fool I am, for letting him sway my thoughts. I knew Wendy was fine. I knew it was all just an accident. I should be there, not Wendy, for ever doubting her.'

Mrs. Darling had tried to console him, but Mr. Darling was a sensitive man who would not let himself forget his sins easily. He would often try and hide his shame, but came off more shy than strong. Considering that this sin was not something that only concerned himself, he felt doubly at fault. He loved Wendy, and he had done an unforgivable thing to her.

In front of his many sons, he held his head high so he wouldn't upset them or make them wonder what could be the matter, for then he would have to confess where Wendy really was. Both Mr. and Mrs. Darling agreed that the boys would never know of what was actually going on. All they needed to know was that Wendy was at the "hospital" where she was getting better. In a sense, that was all correct, but the parents were still wary about eavesdroppers whenever they would discuss the true whereabouts of their eldest child.

The doctor had also suggested that Wendy not be contacted for at least two weeks. By then, she would have "become accustomed" to life in the institute.

"If you see her right away, she'll use her crocodile tears to persuade you to get her out. That's what all patients do at the start," The doctor knowingly explained. "They'll tell you anything to make you believe that they don't belong there. Some make up terrible stories or exaggerate on a few inconveniences, but let me assure you that the Bloomsbury Mental Institute is approved by the government and is not going to harm your daughter in any way. I'll admit that she's not going to like it there at the beginning. But just like when feeding children vegetables, sometimes they don't want what's good for them. So I advise that there be a two week period where she's isolated from you and so that you won't be manipulated by her. After that span of time, perhaps she'll have accepted her confinement in the institute and won't try to plead her way out. After that time, feel free to visit her frequently for she might need that kind of outside contact to keep her feet on the ground, if you know what I mean."

And the day had finally come when that two week period was over and George and Mary could see Wendy. The first thing Mary did was pack her small purse with little snacks, just incase Wendy was a little malnourished. When George commented that Wendy probably wouldn't be able to receive it, Mary paid no heed and kept them with her anyway. No child of hers was going to go hungry. It wasn't right.

George, on the other hand, was much too nervous to think of anything practical to take to Wendy. He wasn't going there to bring her rations; he was going there to see her condition. That was all he cared about. Practical visits could be saved for later, but this first one would only be emotional. Before he left, he told himself that he was not to let Wendy see him sad because that would affect her negatively and possibly upset her. He needed to act normal so that everything could go smoothly.

Making sure that the boys were to be well taken care of by Nana, they set off in the early afternoon in their coach and eagerly awaited their arrival at the institute.

Wendy was reading lazily during her leisure time on a small, ugly couch in the recreational room. She had slowly gotten used to concentrating very well even with the dull roar coming from the group of people all around her. She accredited that to that damned medicine that Dr. Powell had put her on. Every day seemed longer, every moment was accounted for. Even her sleep seemed to drag on for more time than necessary.

The book she held in her hand, The Iliad, was the most entertainment she'd known in days. This was definitely a story that she'd have to retell to her brothers. She knew they'd thoroughly enjoy it, especially with a few tweaks that she always tended to add in her storytelling.

"Paris, you coward," she mumbled under her breath, and then she gasped when a hand fell onto her shoulder. She snapped the book closed in surprise and turned to look up at its owner. It was Bridget.

"Better get your nice dress on, dearie. There's someone here to see ya," she stated excitedly. The wide smile she displayed was an obvious sign that even she was bursting with excitement.

"Someone to see… me?" Wendy repeated and then a slow smile spread across her face when she realized who Bridget was talking of. "My family's come to see me?"

"Aye! You're parents at least. I'll have them wait in the library so you three can have a nice, private conversation," Bridget said quietly. "But don't mention the library thing to anyone, yes? They normally make the first visit through a glass wall for protection. But I know ye better than to think that any of you need one of those."

"Thank you, Bridget! You don't know what this means to me!" she exclaimed and then threw her arms around the red-head. A little taken back at first, because this was the very first time they had hugged, Bridget soon returned it but shooed Wendy away so she could get ready.

Wendy didn't quite understand why the young woman was so accommodating to an inmate like herself, but she wasn't about to reject the favors and help that the merry Bridget would offer on numerous occasions. She simply accepted that Bridget liked her, and that maybe one day the secretary would explain why. Until then, she appreciated the trust that Bridget always seemed to have in her.

"Don't keep them waiting, lovely!" Bridget said as Wendy raced out of the room and down to her cell.

"Finally," Wendy breathed.

When Mr. and Mrs. Darling were greeted by the head secretary at the front, she instructed them to sit in the waiting room while she alerted Wendy of their arrival. Then she quickly returned and escorted them to the library, or what was probably the library because of the shelves and shelves of books lining the walls. The Darlings made themselves comfortable on the sofa before the secretary left them once again.

"Now when we see her," Mary said in a hurried voice, like she was expected Wendy to walk through the door that instant. "It's probably best that we stay calm, right?"

"Yes, I agree," replied George. Then there was a small pause before George then said, "You're not going to be able to be calm, are you, dear?"

"Probably not," said Mary with a giddy grin on her face. Her husband smiled back, feeling the same way she did. They were both anxious to reunite with Wendy and containment was going to be difficult. However, Mary was always one to show her feelings before her spouse. On top of that, this was her only daughter that she was going to see and it had been lonely in the house being the only female. Even George had to admit that the house felt hollow without Wendy inside it.

So as the excitement bubbled inside the eager mother, the father did all he could to suppress the overwhelming feeling of nervousness and shame. He hoped that Wendy would look well, for both their sakes.

When the door was casually pushed open, two pairs of eyes darted to the entrance to see who it was. And to their joy and relief, it was none other than Wendy Darling in a storm-cloud grey little dress. All ideas of composure flew out the window when Mary leaped up from her seat and rushed to her daughter with open arms. The mother and daughter immediately embraced and Wendy smiled peacefully as she smelled her mother's familiar perfume and felt her warm, loving arms around her. Mrs. Darling bombarded her with a million questions about how she was, what's it been like so far, were they treating here well, has she been getting enough to eat, ect ect. Question after question was thrown at her without even enough time to answer them and Wendy just laughed. She looked over at her father, still seated on the couch. When their eyes met, George forgot all about his guilt and shame and was overcome with the relief instead.

"Hello, father," she said lightly and Mr. Darling go up as well and gave Wendy a firm hug. It was shorter than the one from Mary, but that was so Mr. Darling didn't start getting too emotional. He still had to keep his pride, even in this situation.

Each had an arm around Wendy's shoulder as they guided her back to the couch where they all sat down.

"So tell us how you are, Wendy," said Mr. Darling. Wendy sighed quietly as she heard her father say her name, making her feel like she was back home again.

"I'm fine. Really I am. Things have been rather… slow here, but I can't complain too much," Wendy replied. Of course she was partially lying. She was having a terrible time being cooped up in the institute. And even after she had been promised that she'd be able to go out on outing with the group, she never did get that chance. As Dr. Powell explained it, she hadn't been in the institute long enough to learn how to behave. Wendy had been deeply insulted. He was the man who had told her that she acted so "prim at proper" before. What could have changed? But she wasn't about to tell her parents about how bad things were. No doubt her mother would worry, but her father probably wouldn't have done anything about it.

"Have you been sleeping well? Are they feeding you enough?" Mary interjected, returning back to her motherly questions. She then opened her purse and handed Wendy a muffin wrapped in a napkin that Wendy gratefully took and started eating. She had just finished lunch a little earlier but boiled potatoes and broccoli were no match for her mother's tasty baking.

"Yes, yes, Mother. I'm doing fine here. I'm a little bit bored and a little bit lonely sometimes because you miss you all so much," Wendy said when she finished chewing her bite of muffin. "But I only have a month left. I think I can make it until then."

"Wonderful," Mr. Darling said in genuine relief. Wendy's appearance had seemed normal but he was especially glad to hear from her own mouth that she was doing well.

"Just one question though," Wendy started before taking a considerably large bite of the muffin. "Why did you wait so long to come see me?"

For a moment, neither parent answered while they thought hard to come up with a plausible reason. Finally, Mr. Darling decided to go with the truth.

"The doctor advised us to," he said. "He said it would be best for you to first get acquainted with your new living arrangements and then we could step in."

"But didn't you think I would miss you? Didn't you think I might need to talk to one of you? Didn't you think that I might be scared in a new place like this? Didn't you want to see me?" Wendy said, almost like it was obvious. The further she went on, the more evident the hurt in her voice became. "So you knew, and I had to wait two weeks wondering if my parents had forgotten about me? You could have told me so I wasn't waiting for as visit up until now."

"I'm sorry, Wendy. I had to keep it a secret so as not to upset you," Mr. Darling explained as logically as he could. He actually wasn't quite sure why he hadn't told her in the beginning, but now he was mentally hitting himself with a bat after listening to her reasoning. 'She's right. It would have been better if I had told her.'

"Don't blame your father, dear," interrupted Mrs. Darling. "It was all very unclear, even to us. You weren't the only one who was a little lost."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we weren't quite sure if we should send you here but it seemed for the best. The decisions had to be made very fast despite the fact that we didn't know what would happen."

'She says this like she had to make the decision herself,' thought George. He knew what Mary was doing. She was trying to convince both Wendy and him to believe that the choices that were made were the right choices.

Wendy seemed to accept this answer, since she had always been one to try to understand others and see from their eyes. She then popped the last little bit of the muffin on her mouth and finished it off. Mr. Darling smiled slightly as he saw his daughter's features relax in acceptance. The last thing he wanted was for his only daughter to be bitter towards him.

"So anyway," Mary continued. "Tell us how it's been here so far. What do you do here?"

"There's a lot that we do in here. We have times where they teach us social skills like in reading time or tea time. And then they have us 'express ourselves' through writing or art. Then of course we have our free time and our therapy sessions. I never thought that an asylum would have so many activities."

"Well it's not an asylum, sweetheart. It's an institute," Mr. Darling corrected. He both thought it was impolite to call it an asylum and he hated the thought of Wendy being in one. An institute sounded much more bearable.

"No, it can definitely be an asylum sometimes," Wendy said back.

"What do you mean?" said Mrs. Darling this time.

"Some of the patients are just strange, that's all."

"Do they frighten you?"

"Not anymore. I have a few good friends here who always helps me."

"What are their names?" asked Mr. Darling curiously. He hoped they could get onto a pleasant subject and this one seemed good as any.

"Eliza and Noodle."

No one spoke for a beat as both of the adults thought the same thing: What kind of person has the name 'Noodle'?

Wendy smiled in amusement, fully knowing what was going through her parents' heads.

"They're both very nice people. Eliza knows about everything here and Noodle is such a sweetheart."

"We're sure he is, Wendy," laughed Mary pleasantly. George only gave a forced smile. He still couldn't get over the name.

"Maybe one day you'll meet them," said Wendy.

"Maybe so, dear. That would be delightful," Mrs. Darling said and Mr. Darling nodded in agreement.

"How much time do we have to talk?" asked the teenager. "I'm just on my free time now."

"The secretary at the front said until visiting time is over, so probably until your next event."

"Wonderful! I have so much to tell you both!"

"And we'd love it to hear it," answered George. After getting over the first few nervous minutes, he was finally starting to really enjoy being with Wendy again. He missed her liveliness and sunny nature more than he realized and now he was able to relax and just listen to her talk.

Wendy was careful to avoid bad subjects that might worry her family members (like the lost hallway or anything of the sort), but gave an account of everything else that had happened. She felt no shame in telling how much she already loathed that bastard Mr. Powell and her parents just laughed as she told them about how often he had gotten on her nerves.

Time seemed to fly by as she talked and they listened intently to every word she said. Before she knew it, a knock came at the door and Bridget poked her head in and reminded them all that their time was short.

When they said their goodbyes, which included many hugs and several I love you's, they were once again parted and Wendy sighed glumly.

'And just like before, I feel empty. I miss them so much,' she thought sadly.

Both adults left feeling cheerful and relieved and Wendy went back to her state of sorrow. She trudged back to her cell and flopped down on the bed, even though she knew that they were going to have afternoon tea shortly. She hated tea time. Everything was just a repeat of her years with Aunt Millicent, and she would have done anything to be able to get out of these extra lessons at the institute.

"I hate having obligations," Wendy said aloud. "I wish I could just sit and do nothing if I wanted to. Another thing I miss about Neverland. No grown up duties."

She took a deep breath and forced herself to sit up against her desire to lay there and skip afternoon tea.

'I wish you would come back, Peter. Give me a chance to escape this again.'

Once again, her thoughts trailed back to Peter Pan but they didn't linger there long. The confounded medication made her not only more alert and concentrated; it also made her more logical and level-headed…

…and boring.

That's when Wendy got an idea. And without even letting herself have the time to think it over, she went over to the desk and picked up a familiar glass bottle. Then she hurried down to the nearest bathroom as fast as she could. The second she found one and closed the door, she popped open the bottled and dumped out all of the pills into the toilet.

With a satisfied smile, she flushed them away.