It was evening. They had gone back to the apartment, their parents still away for the weekend.

What will mum and dad think? Wendy thought. I'm supposed to look out for them. This is more like dragging them into danger.

She stood by the bay windows in her bedroom, holding back the curtain, watching the sky the faint stars in the sky as best she could through the pollution of the city.

They were all gathered in the cozy room. John and Michael were sat on the bed, which was covered by a thick comforter on which was embroidered a cloud pattern. Tinkermon sat cross-legged on the carpeted, looking around at every corner, from the metallic radiator in the corner to the beareau on which sat pictures of Wendy, her family, and friends.

"This place looks so different with these new eyes," Tinkermon stated. "Can't believe how small I was before!"

John shrugged. "You're still pretty small. For a lady."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "John, that's rude."

"I was just making an observation," John said defensively, blushing all the while.

Tinkermon's elfin face, too, redenned. "Aww. He called me a lady."

John adjusted his glasses. "See? It's fine."

Wendy sighed. "Anyhow, if what she says is true, we're in danger. You saw those monsters back there." She folded her arms, turning to Tinkermon. "Was it even necessary to go to the school today?"

Tinkermon shrugged. "I guess. You probably just needed to go there to, like, wrack your memory or something."

"What?! You can't be serious."

Tinkermon gave a dismissive wave. "I mean, it helped you remember how you felt. About Peter, I mean." She winked.

Now it was Wendy who blushed. "Peter? But I've never even met him."

"Sure about that?" Prodded Tinkermon. "Try and remember."

Wendy folded her hands begins her back, pacing toward the window. "Well, we've been telling stories about him for a while now. Some of it did seem...familiar."

Wendy recalled nights when she was younger, about Michael's age. Times before their dad had brought the internet home to them, when books and daydreams were the only distractions. She and John and Michael would tell each other stories, and read to each other. They would sleep in the same bedroom, all three of them. The windows would stay open at night during the summer...

Wendy could just barely remember a boy who, it seemed, had climbed up to her window. A boy dressed in green, who looked like he was a boy scout, or perhaps the son of a farmer.

He would sit perched outside her window, a breeze ruffling his hair as he faced away, staring out toward the stars.

Back then, they had lived out in the countryside, where the skies were clearer, and it was easier to breathe.

It all felt so long ago, now.

Wendy wasn't even sure these memories were real. She had awoken many times in the middle of the night, back then. Her parents said she had been a sleepwalker. But now that Tinkermon was here, could it have been more than that? Could the Digital World - Neverland - have been calling her since even before anything digital had entered her life?

"Wendy?"

Michael's voice pulled her back into the current moment.

Wendy forced a smile. "Get some sleep, boys. No sense in staying up all night. If he comes, he comes."

John nodded. "Right, then." He reclined back onto the bed, Michael following suit.

Wendy switched off one of the lamps, leaving the room dim. Her brothers were soon fast asleep as she stood over them, watching. Tinkermon floated up over her shoulder, following her gaze.

"You're a good sister, Wendy."

Wendy looked over at Tinkermon. "Am I?

Tinkermon gave no further reply, instead leading her out into the hall. "Come on. We have to go meet Petermon."

Wendy followed her out into the hall. "Why do you keep calling him that? Peter...mon?"

"Because that's what he is now," Tinkermon explained. "He's one of us. A Digimon."

Wendy's face went cross. "But that's impossible. He was a human boy."

Tinkermon shrugged. "When he found his way to Neverland, he became digital. Some say he merged with a spirit with which he crossed paths - the spirit of an ancient warrior, a deity of the forest. That spirit could not manifest until bonding with one such as him, who was willing to sacrifice part of his humanity. In turn, he stopped aging, at least in the eyes of your world, the internal clock of his body taking on that of the Digital World itself."

They came out into the family room, where it was pitch black. The only light once again came from the computer monitor, the screensaver strobing throughout the darkness.

Wendy found herself hypnotized once again by digital stars.

There was a rumbling drone, and somewhere in the distance, the sound of waves lapping a shore.

It was...soothing, and yet, foreboding.

Wendy stood still, her eyes fixed on the too-bright screen.

"Wendy! Use your digivice!" Said Tinkermon.

Wendy held up the star-shaped gadget in her hand. She wrapped her fingers around it, closing her eyes.

I wish...to understand. I wish to meet Peter...again.

She held it up to the screen.

One star shone more brightly than the others.

Then, a blinding flash.

Wendy!

That voice!

The light settled into a warm glow.

Wendy found herself knelt on the floor, staring down at the carpet. She pushed herself up on her hands and knees, and lifted her face to look. From behind her, she heard Tinkermon giggling with glee.

He stood above her, a boy dressed in green trousers and a green jacket over a white shirt, complete with a scarf tied into tails around his neck, in front of which hung a red orb. His brown travel boots were just inches from Wendy's face, and she could smell the scent of grass and charcoal on them. His leather belt was loosely tied around his waist, with a holster attached. There was the hilt of a short sword protruding from the top of it.

Wendy looked up into his face, which was covered by a bandana. His eyes were kind despite being as red as his orb, and his ears were long and sharp, framed by a mop of dirty blonde hair, which poked out in every which direction from beneath a green fedora topped with a large red plume.

Though she could not see his mouth, she could tell he was smiling.

"Hello again, Wendy," said Petermon, in an even, charming, if somewhat nasally voice.

Wendy stood before him. "Hello again, Peter."