"The candle!" Wendy yanked her hand from Peter's before she trotted to the bedside table. She extinguished the flame with a puff of air. "I most certainly would not want to burn down the house in my absence."

She turned back to the window and her eyes widened. Peter had stepped onto the window casing, his very, very grown-up body now silhouetted in the waning moonlight. He turned towards her and squinted into the darkness.

"Wendy? Let's go." His bare chest, which had seemed perfectly normal at thirteen, now made her brain riot.

Wendy slammed her eyes shut. She repeated to herself that he was still a boy under those improperly exposed muscles. He didn't know any better. "I'm coming," she said, slipping back to the window. She stomach felt strange when she placed her hand back into his once more. "Won't I need pixie dust?"

"I almost forgot!" Peter grabbed a pouch at his waist. "Since you're a grown-up now, you need more pixie dust than before."

He tipped the pouch over her head. Wendy waited for the glitter to shower her head, her shoulders. Her mind was already entrenched in happy thoughts of Neverland and Peter.

Still, her slippered feet refused to rise from the carpet. "Am I doing something wrong, Peter?"

"It's different as a grown-up. I had to think a lot of happy thoughts. Tink reminded me that grown-up's aren't meant to fly to Neverland, so it's harder."

Wendy couldn't help but notice Peter's feet had levitated from the window frame. He drifted just outside of her room, as he had done five years before.

"What are your happy thoughts?" She stepped onto the ledge, balancing her bag and Michael's hat.

Peter's skin, shadowed by a tree, started to glow. His skin grew quite pink and radiant, yet he refused to answer her question. "You have to think of your own happy thoughts, Wendy Moira Angela Darling."

She smiled widely. He had never said her full name before. It sounded lovely. He had really come back for her!

"And there you go!" His grin mirrored her own just before she floated out of the window. Peter's grip tightened around her fingers. "Will you tell me your happy thoughts?"

"I will not," she muttered. Her skin burned with embarrassment. She could never admit to Peter that he was her happy thoughts, right down to the way his Adam's apple bobbled up and down when he smiled.

Ever upwards they flew. "Do you remember the way?" He glanced over his bare shoulder.

"Second star to the right, straight on 'til morning. I could never forget." She had raised her voice over the rushing wind as they passed over the Thames.

"Come on, then!" Peter thread his fingers into hers and tugged her forward, urging her faster. "We have to speed up." He was yelling at her through the clouds now. "It may hurt a little."

His words made Wendy squeeze their fingers even harder. Her body felt heavy.

Peter was suddenly face to face with her, his eyebrows pulled together. "What's wrong?"

Wendy dropped her eyes to her feet, slippers dangling in the starry void. "I'm scared."

"Scared of a little pain? It's like scratching your arm on a branch. You fight with swords! You can't be frightened of a scratch."

"I haven't held a sword in ever so long."

Peter lifted her chin with his free hand. "Do you trust me?"

"What a silly question! I am holding your hand far above the Earth and you ask me if I trust you? You are, indeed, a silly boy."

He blew out a short breath. "I am not a boy. I am a man now." He pulled his shoulders back.

Wendy felt her blush blossom across both cheeks. "Yes, yes, I know. Let's just get to Neverland. Floating here makes me nervous."

"It's going to pinch a bit." They were moving again.

"Alright."

"Have you ever had ants bite you?" Faster and faster.

"No!"

"Well, try to imagine little ants biting you all over. But it'll be over so quick, you won't even remember it!"

Wendy concentrated on the feel of his fingers as fire lit through her body, her veins searing. Her eyes burned, her legs wanted to melt. "Peter!"

"Almost there, Wendy! Hold on!"

Still, molten wax wound its way around her neck, squashing her windpipe. Her toes scorched. If she was to die, Wendy was happy it would be with Peter, holding his hand. A parched smile touched her lips before she plunged into darkness.


Wendy jolted awake from a slap of water to her face as her body spun round and round and round and round. Head heavy and dizzy, she forced her eyelids open to see clouds spiraling passed her eyes. When she tried to move her arms, she found them pinned to her sides. She was tucked into Peter's arms…and they were falling from the sky!

"Peter! Oh, Peter, wake up!" Wendy frantically rocked back and forth to stir him from unconsciousness as they plummeted through sloppy, grey clouds.

His eyelids blinked once, then twice, and his green eyes rolled down.

"Peter! Wake up! We are falling!"

Wendy craned her neck and saw the jungle below, coming nearer by the second. When she looked back to Peter, he was still blinking, eyes void. She raised her lips to his to try and get him to focus on something…anything.

Peter jerked his head back, eyes on Wendy, before looking beyond her at the rushing foliage.

"I think this may hurt!" he yelled. Peter pulled her face to his neck just as the branches whipped against her feet. Her slippers ripped off and she screamed as her legs were sliced open.

They slammed into a wet pile of leaves and branches—Peter moaning on his back and Wendy whimpering into his side.

"Wendy…I think I've died."