Peter is in a deep sleep, having found shuteye earlier than usual. He dreams deeply, finding himself in Neverland, flying high above the canopy. He grins wide eyed at the jumping dolphins and chanting fairies as he passes above their forest. It was the time of day that they sing, and their angelic voices soothe the entire heart of the island. This was one of Peter's favorite things to do; listen to the fairies sing.
He sits on a rock a safe distance away from their home, in a gentle trance as he enjoys the soft melodic harmonies. A clear blue lake to his side, one of his favorite places to swim. The rock he sits on was his napping rock. Wendy had always had the boys nap on a rock near the shore, once a day. This was his favorite place in the world, at his favorite time in the world. He gently rolls over to glance at the rock where Wendy sleeps, but all he see's is himself in the water. The rock was gone, and all he sees now was a child in the reflection.
It was ten o'clock at night when Wendy's shrill screams fill the house. Peter jolts awake in his room, the sound terrifying him beyond comprehension. He's the first one to her room, Nibs and Curly aren't far behind, the room they share being the closest to Wendy's after the guest room in which Peter stays.
They find her on the floor, blood soaks her nightgown. She is in tears, sobbing hysterically, trembling hands covered in red as she clutches her womanhood.
"W-wendy?" Peter whispers, frozen in his place. His heart drops to his stomach and he feels he may be sick. Michael then bursts into the room, shoving past the three stunned boys in the doorway.
"Wendy!" He shouts as he falls to his knees next to her. He suddenly jerks his head up and looks at Peter. "What've you done?!" Peter is stunned having never seen such an anger in young Michael's eyes.
"I-I-" he stutters.
"She just-" Curly starts.
"Shut up!" Michael retorts. "Wendy what have they done to you?" he turns to his sister. The sound of the other boys' feet running down the hall grows louder. Mr. and Mrs. Darling are unfortunately and coincidentally away at theatre, enjoying their first night out alone in months.
John and the other boys are soon standing there, but as soon as her eldest brother takes in the scene he quickly starts shoving the other boys away, including Peter whom he scowls at fiercly.
"Whatever you've done to her, you'll have bloody hell to pay," Michael growls as he tends to his hyperventilating and very, very pregnant sister. She takes in short and labored breaths, the wind seemingly knocked out of her chest. She's unable to speak, but soon Peter finds it in his will to try and say something.
"I've done nothing." But his voice isn't loud enough, he's still in too much shock. John hears nothing as he shuts everyone out the room.
It's fifteen minutes after the boys have all been sitting in the hallway, waiting in the silence, that they realize Nana has gone. It's too quiet in the house after all the commotion, and the only sounds that can be heard are Peter's quiet cries as he begs John and Michael to open the door.
"I've done nothing!" Peter shouts, banging his fist against the door angrily. "That's my child too! Let me in for heaven's sake!"
A few moments go by before the door creeks open, slowly. He steps inside and shuts it behind him, finding Wendy unconscious in Johns arms, Michael folding her bloodstained nightgown and setting it on the floor next to a fire they'd lit. She's been redressed, a warm wet cloth placed on her forehead. She's so pale, a cold sweat covering her body in a light sheen.
"What in the bloody hell happened?" Peter demands to know.
"She wasn't able to tell us," Michael murmurs after a few eternity long seconds. "But I swear-"
"I was asleep," Peter interrupts. "And I was the first person in here, I saw no one. Even the window was closed." They look away from him, none of the boys in the room able to make eye contact.
"I suppose one of you has gone for help by now," John states matter-of-factly, ice in his tone. Peter knows he doesn't fully trust that he doesn't know what'd happened, and that cuts him deep.
"The uh, the dog. I think the dog left or, um, I don't really know how it works with it...the whole nanny situation..." Peter stutters.
"Of course, Wendy is near death and you fools send Nana!" John shouts angrily. Michael shushes him.
Peter was too ashamed to admit that no one had actually sent her away, no one had thought to. "She runs much faster than any other us can," Peter says quietly. He sits on the edge of the bed, taking Wendy's hand. A single tear rolls down his face.
The three boys jump as the door swings wide open, Mr. and Mrs. Darling standing there, faces pale and hands covering their hearts.
They don't allow Peter to come to hospital with them. They don't allow any of the boys except John and Michael. They tell Peter he must stay and watch other the Lost Boys.
"But- but- it's my child too," Peter stutters, holding back tears. He'd never be seen showing such weakness, even for this. But it shows, and he chokes on the word child.
"Stay," is the only answer he receives before they're gone.
He sits alone in the study, slumped in Mr. Darling's chair next to the fire. His head is buried in his hands and he tries to focus on his breathing. He thinks about his dream, and how he misses so dearly his home. The Lost Boys don't say they don't believe Peter, but they don't go near him either. They huddle together in the twins' room, talking about what'd happened.
Tinkerbell- almost as if she had known what'd happened to Wendy- places herself gingerly on the coffee table. Her soft jingles notify Peter that she's there. She's been in Neverland for weeks now, and Peter had thought perhaps she'd forgotten him.
"I don't know what's happened Tink," Peter sighs, looking up from his hands. "Nobody will tell me anything."
I'm so sorry Peter, but I think what happened to Wendy was my fault.