If asked, they'd never be able to answer the question of how much time they spent in the corridor that opened before them when they entered the portal made of blue fog. Swallowed by the fog door, they lost any sense of time, unable to feel anything as if an all encompassing feeling of detachment to everything enveloped them once they entered the portal.

As such, they were only vaguely aware of their legs leading them through the tunnel that opened up within the fog, moving almost without their realizing. Because they were so oblivious as they made their way through the tunnel, they were even unaware of the sudden flashing of memories in their heads and then vanishing from them instantly, before the children had any chance (or would have had if not for the state they were in) to muse over them. For a moment, the memories made them believe that they were someone else, living in other places and other bodies which weren't the bodies of children. It was as if some disembodied voice kept whispering into their ears that their life in Neverland wasn't real and now the time was coming in they would discover that this—the fact that Neverland did not exist—was their reality.

Since they were in this trance like state, they didn't pay attention to the images of the adult versions of their faces which appeared on the walls of the corridor stretching out behind the entry made of the bluish mist. They certainly would have raised some memories in the captain of the tribe of the Lost Boys, had he been aware of the images. The same could also be said for the small light that suddenly appeared at the end of the tunnel.

As they drew near to it, the light started to turn into something else assuming the look of a hoary mirror. The surface of which was veiled by mist making it impossible for the children to look through it. Although the mirror looked very solid, it had to be immaterial because the hypnotized children were able to pass through it with ease.

It was when their sense of awareness came back to them that the children were able to fully take in their surroundings and were able to catch a glimpse of the portal as it closed up behind them. The air of the room that they now found themselves in was apparently dangerous to it as it twitched for a moment and then disappeared as if it had never existed.

With the portal gone, the children turned to study the room that they were in. The place was very familiar to Peter Pan, now he could fully see it, liberated as he was from the influence of the mist through which they had all arrived by. The room gave him a chance to remember his vision that had followed from his sudden fainting and he realized that the one in the vision and the one that he was standing in now were the same. Both were painted white, with a bed just as white and sterile in the middle and was the only piece of furniture in the room besides a small table close to the window and a similar one near the bed. The person lying in the bed remained the same: a very old man with his eyes closed, even the arrival of Peter and his band was unable to rouse him. There were numerous tubes of varying thickness coming out of his lean hands and the nose only to disappear into the weird machines that were covered in a number of buttons of various colors standing close to the bed.

Then, Peter stepped closer to get a better look at the sleeping man who still didn't move as he approached – his sleep must be very deep, Peter thought – and his eyes widened in an expression of shock.

The face of the mysterious old man, sleeping just in his faded but immaculately clean blue pajamas was the face of the ice statue which appeared in their house in Neverland. And, given the resemblance that the statue bore to Peter Pan himself, the old man looked like Peter – if the boy reached old age.

Nobody said anything, as all of them came to this revelation until little Michael, before others managed to hold him back reached out his hand and grasped the man's pajama sleeve and gave it a hard jerk. But this jerk did nothing to make the man regain consciousness He lay there as he had when they had arrived; still and unmoving, in his bed.

On the clean, white walls of the room, there were hanging corkboards onto which were stuck some black and white photos along with some pieces of paper with writing on them. The small nightstand and the one near the window whose vivid blue curtains, blew softly from a mild wind also covered up various cards and photos. These photos showed a boy in various stages of life—from babyhood up until about late preteens; the child looked very much like Peter.. The boy in the photos was also very similar to the old man however strange it could sound. In the light of the sunrays falling on his sleeping face, yellowish and covered with a net of deep wrinkles, his face with delicate facial features seemed much younger, almost boyish, almost like he was about the age of Peter Pan, the boy who despite the age difference by some weird coincidence resembled the stranger so much.

John was the first whose interest was aroused by the old looking cards with their corners tucking up and photos standing on the night table. He took them in his hand, and began reading aloud what an unskilled hand written in them: "Jimmy, get well soon", "We hope you will get well and be able to spend this Easter with Mummy and the whole family, son", " Happy seventeenth birthday", "We love you and wish you fast recovery, Jimmy" – the wishes repeated themselves, expressing the hope that "Jimmy" would soon recover from his illness whatever it was and whoever this Jimmy boy was – rather it couldn't be the inhabitant of the white room because if it was him indeed, he must have grown out of the age in which one still has living parents who would like to spend Easter with him and being called Jimmy instead of James a very long time ago.

John's interest in the issue of the identity of "Jimmy", suddenly woken up by the get well cards led him to one wall whose only decorations were two boards filled with press cuttings of a great variety coming from various sources. The boy started to read them aloud although their content wasn't too happy nor too interesting unless one were a friend or relative of young Jimmy who though, judging by the lapse of time that passed since the first newspaper clipping had been released to when the last one had come out, wasn't young any more.

The clippings that John read aloud to the others went something like this:

"From "Arbroath Herald" 30 January 1936: "Young Kirriemuir Inhabitant Suffers Skating Accident".

" 'This winter's skating did not finish well for James Matthew Barrie, age 11 from Kirriemuir who the previous day slid on a skating rink, hitting his head on the ice. The hurt boy was taken to hospital unconscious where the doctors took care of him. We wish young Jimmy a quick recovery."

From "The Montrose Review", 26. March 1936: "Injured Boy Slips into Coma."

"Jimmy Barrie who in January of this year suffered head injuries in a skating accident still hasn't regained consciousness. The boy has in fact slipped into a coma. Doctors are afraid young Barrie could have experienced severe brain damage. If his state doesn't change in the near future, the boy will be transported to the Great Ormond Street Hospital in London where he can receive better treatment from brain specialists."

From "London Daily", 17 January 1939: "Will Jimmy Ever Wake Up?"

"The third anniversary of the accident of Jimmy Barrie, the most famous long residence patient at Great Ormond Street Hospital, one of the best known children's hospitals in London is fast approaching. Young James who will turn 15 in May this year has remained in a coma since the accident three years ago. His family prays for their son's recovery. "It would be the most beautiful present for us if our son was to wake up on the anniversary," says Mrs. Margaret Ogilvy Barrie, the boy's mother. "We all miss our angel so much. He was a wonderful child with an amazing imagination, always amusing our family with his made up stories."

From "London Daily", 1 September 1952: "The Boy Has Slept For Sixteen Years"

"James Matthew Barrie who was transferred to the Royal London Hospital from the Great Ormond Street Hospital several years ago still keeps the status of one of the most famous medical cases in Great Britain. The young man's state has not changed since the brain injury he sustained in the thirties in Kirriemuir, his hometown as a result of a skating accident. Only Mr. Barrie's closest relatives still believe in their son and brother's regaining consciousness one day. Some signs show their hope for the miracle may have its rational basis – the nurses taking care of the young man claim on some occasions they have felt some movements of his hands, as if he were partially conscious. We hope these are the signs of his recovery."

From "The Sun", 12 Novemeber 1985: "Was Barrie's Accident Purely Accidental?"

"Shocking news around Great Britain. A childhood friend of Mr. Barrie, the famous "Sleeping Man" who has remained in a coma in the ward of the Royal London Hospital since the accident which took place before the World War II has contacted us and admits the accident was his fault although he fails to give an evidence to support his claims. "It was me who pushed Jimmy on the ice," the man admitted and also asked us to not give out his name. "We quarreled and I wanted to punish him. I didn't want it to be like that. Qualms of conscience don't let me live peacefully, I had to tell it someone." Respecting his identity, we will let our readers know him only by his initials: J.H."

From "Kirriemuir Herald", 11 February 2010: "Is the Dream Coming to an End?"

"Is the dream in which the whole life of our most famous inhabitant, Mr. James Matthew Barrie has passed finally coming to an end? Doctors of the Royal London Hospital in which Mr. Barrie, who has remained in a coma since 1936 resides, say that his health has begun to deteriorate. The sleeping man has developed severe respiratory and heart problems which as the doctors fear, may contribute to the fatal breakdown of his health. Mr. James Matthew Barrie will turn 86 in May, the last 74 years of which he has spent sleeping. "

John stopped reading and slowly turned to look at his friends, who were staring at him with equal looks of shock and disbelief. In the room there was silence, broken only by the soft noises uttered by the machines that had kept Mr. Barrie alive for the last half century.