Chapter Four

For Wendy Darling an eternity came and went as she gazed up into those glinting green eyes, unable to speak even a word. They stared back at her intently, brimming over with mischief and fun, their devilish sparkle enchanting. The elfin face hovering above her had not changed, nor had the charming smile that now graced it. Her reaction to both remained the same: a rush of butterflies and giddiness throughout, dazing her once again.

Tinkerbell flitted around them as he extended a hand to help her up, his mouth curving into a grin. She took it, feeling her heart skip at the touch, and continued to stare, their eyes inextricably locked. She was strangely aware of their surroundings at that moment, of the dusky shadows cast against the walls, of the entire stillness of the house, broken only by the muted ticking of the grandfather clock below.

His hair, Wendy noticed, remained endearingly tousled, and gleamed reddish in the moonlight from where it escaped the rim of his green cap. His lithe form was half hidden by the shadows, giving only a glimpse of his green attire and slippered feet. But it was his presence that Wendy felt strongest, so familiar and yet so foreign, exuding daring and magic and intrigue all at once.

"Peter." She breathed finally, the word so soft it was nearly a whisper. Her voice in that moment was indescribable, vibrant with so many emotions, and laced with such joy, a warmth quite engulfed Peter's frame at the sound of it.

"You came back."

She spoke the words in disbelief, stunned at the very idea of their truth. Her eyes were shining with something other than tears, and had Peter caught the flicker of feeling within them, he would have seen what Wendy had yet to discover.

Alas he did not, for Peter was never good at such things, and instead answered rather matter-of-factly;"Course I did. Told you I would, didn't I?"

"Yes, but...it's been so long." Wendy answered, finding that her surprise was very quickly wearing away to be replaced with an excitement she remembered feeling several times before.

Peter laughed, a boyish sound. "Wendy, it's only been a few weeks."

A strange, half-frightened look crossed Wendy's face at that, and her heart began to pound.

"No Peter, it's been many weeks. It's been...it's been four years."

At first he didn't seem to understand, but presently his face grew confused.

"Four years?" He asked, and laughed again as he turned a somersault in the air. "You look the same."

This was partly true, for Wendy looked very much as she had the first time he'd come for them. Her nightgown, a present version of the pale blue one she'd once worn, fell around her in soft folds, and she knew for certain the ribbon she wore in her hair was the same- she'd kept it, on the excuse of tying her hair back at night, sentimental that it was the one item from that time she had not outgrown.

Yet, as gratified at his words as she was, Wendy couldn't help but wonder what he would think when he saw her in proper light, during the day, dressed the way her mother now insisted she must.

Would he like the change?

She pushed the unsettling thought from her mind, aware Peter was hovering in the air before her in a way that seemed to say he was waiting for something. If the time lapse between then and now bothered him, he didn't show it. Instead, he looked at her excitedly and said; "Where are the boys?"

"They've moved across the hall-" Wendy began, but before she could finish he'd flown out the door.

She ran after him, into Michael's room, where Peter was giving Tink a good shake over the bed. The pixie dust exploded in a cloud of glitter, covering Michael from head to foot. He snorted and rolled over, unaware he was slowly rising. The blanket slid off as he ascended, and Peter flew up to meet him. He cupped his hands around his mouth, and sending Wendy a wink, leaned in close to Michael's ear.

"Hey you!" He said loudly.

Michael's eyes flew open with a start. He uttered a frightened yell, then caught sight of Peter, and uttered another one, this time in delight.

"Peter!" He shouted ecstatically, his face filled with a mix of wonder and disbelief.

Peter grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's right. Come on!"

Michael stared at him for a moment, then flapped his arms eagerly, and slowly drifted out the door. "You're covered in soot!" He said laughing, as he looked at Peter's smudged green tunic.

"I came in though the chimney."

"The chimney!" Michael echoed, astonished.

"Uh-huh. Where's John's room?"

"That way." Wendy said smiling as she pointed, thinking about Peter's unusual entrance for the first time. Before she could ask, Tinkerbell vengefully poured pixie dust into her eyes, and flew after Peter in a huff. In spite of herself, Wendy laughed. Well, some things never did change. She began to rise, even as she swiped at her now sparkling vision. She'd bumped into the wall and the ceiling before she was finally able to clear her eyes, only to see a shocked John fly out his doorway looking as if Christmas had come early.

"H-he's back." He told Wendy in a confused manner, humorously stating the obvious as he tried to adjust his glasses and not crash into the hall table. John had clearly convinced himself it was a dream as well. He kept looking down, as if to assure his mind he was indeed floating, and began to wave his arms akwardly in an attempt to go faster. His elbow swiped a picture frame in the process, sending it to the floor with a clatter.

Wendy's finger flew to her lips. "Shhh! Mother and Father will hear!" Her voice was the last thing from reprimanding however, for it came out rather high, and a little unsteady. She was so happy, she felt her heart would burst.

"No they won't." Michael said confidently. "They never do."

"But Nana doe-" The words were barely out of her mouth, when Nana began a tremendous barking down below.

John groaned.

"Open the window, Wendy!" Peter instructed. The hurried back to the nursery, and Wendy flew down and unhooked the latch, a great thrill of realization rushing through her. As if by instinct, the windows blew open, inviting a great gush of cool air into the room that ruffled every head. Michael surged through first and whooped loudly, turning loop-de-loops as he went. John immediately followed, nearly flying into the window frame before he steadied himself, his nightshirt flapping wildly in the breeze.

Wendy however, hesitated, hovering before the window seat as the inky sky beckoned her.

Hastily closing her eyes, she tried to convince herself.

It's real.

She took a deep breath and opened them, only to find Peter's bright gaze on her own.

He's real.

Somehow, that was all it took. An eager glance, a pair of bright eyes, and suddenly she knew. It was not a dream. Every part of her was truly, fully, awake. Her heart soared in response to this, and as if sensing her sudden belief, Peter mock-bowed and gestured toward the window.

"After you." He said graciously, his eyes twinkling with the adventure that lay in wait.

To Wendy's surprise, she blushed,and quickly let herself fly out after her brothers. Nana's insistent barking faded away as she rose, higher and higher until her old life, her growing up life, seemed but a distant memory far below. She felt so alive, and so exhilarated, she couldn't understand ever having doubted herself. Her memories were true.

Peter soon joined her, riding expertly on the wind before diving down to join the boys. She followed him, but flew several feet higher, not trusting herself to swoop between the rooftops as the boys did, hollering and laughing as they went. John it seemed, had finally mastered flying again. She was watching her brother's chase each other when Peter shot up quite suddenly beside her, and promptly rolled lazily onto his back, his hands tucked behind his head.

"Wendy, why haven't you told any stories?"

"Stories?" She asked, wobbling a bit as she went through an air current.

"You used to tell such good ones. But when I came to the window, it was always dark inside." He turned on his side to look at her, his cheek resting on his hand. His eyes were curious.

"You came to the window?" Wendy asked startled, dodging a heavily smoking chimney at the same time.

"Sure. Lot's of times." Peter said offhandedly, zooming upwards a bit before diving beneath her and flying on her other side. Tink followed in hot pursuit.

"But...but why didn't you come in?" Wendy asked, unable to understand how he could simply fly away each time.

"I couldn't. It wouldn't let me."

"Wouldn't let you?" Wendy repeated, astonished.

He nodded, staring at her inquisitively.

"Why ever not?" She asked, perplexed.

He shrugged, unfazed. "Don't know, so I decided to try the fireplace this time." His eyes danced, as though congratulating his ingenuity.

Wendy thought this over. "I...haven't told a story by the window in a long time." She admitted slowly. "Sometimes I tell them to Michael, but in his room, when John's asleep or my voice keeps him awake." She paused, considering something. Peter had always come during a story. Did they perhaps...open the window for him? What if...what if the magic woven through the telling of a story was what made his visits to London possible? Was Peter's coming really so tied in with her silly tales?

"They're not silly." Peter said suddenly. "The Lost Boys have been begging for one, but since you weren't there, I tried it myself." He grinned. "It was awful. I bet they're still laughing over it." He gave a chuckle. She was just about to ask how he'd read her mind when Peter suddenly grabbed her hand. His was warm, and fit perfectly with hers, in what Wendy found a most unnerving manner. She was scarcely aware of him pulling her upwards when she realized the large yellow disk glowing before her was the great clock tower. She gave a quiet gasp, unaware they'd flown so high. John and Michael appeared beside them looking elated, their arms spread wide.

"Twelve twenty!" John shouted, grinning over at them. The small black hand moved and Michael giggled, giving him a playful shove.

"Wrong! It's twelve twenty-one!"

As they rose still higher, London became nothing but a twinkling of lights below them.

Wendy caught her breath. From here, one could see the whole of the Thames River as it meandered through the city, glistening faintly as it went. The city itself spread out beneath them beautifully, it's skyline framed with a mystical air only darkness could give. She blinked, so bedazzled by everything that had occurred, an expression similar to one she'd worn not long ago slipped softly over her face, Wendy appearing at once quite lovely in her uninterrupted bliss.

This time, Peter saw it, and as he looked at her something quite peculiar happened. It was so peculiar none of the children noticed it, for they were entirely caught up in the promise of Neverland, making it impossible for anything else to gain their attention. Happen it did, however, and the happening consisted of a great silence descending from the sky. Within several short seconds, London had become strangely and entirely still, with not a breeze nor a ripple nor a rustling of leaves to be found. Even the stars stopped their twinkling, but instead seemed to hold their breath, waiting...waiting.

The Second Star to the right was directly before the children now, for they had finally reached their destination. Now all that remained was for Peter to take them there, through the star, and onto the island that awaited them. The air was thick with tension and excitement, and it was then, as Peter soared forward and began to pick up speed, that Wendy noticed it. The silence, the breathlessness, and suddenly, herself. An odd rush of feeling swept through her, and she realized she was standing on the balcony of Lord Melbourne's estate, watching a star fall across the heavens. Then she was squeezing her eyes shut, thinking:

I wish Peter would come back, while her heart wished a great many more unsaid things.

Now she was staring at her father, hearing his voice refuse her as he said, I'm sorry Wendy, but you cannot go to Scotland. Now she was in the hall running from Michael, playing swords, dancing with Jack, speaking with Violet, patting Nana, smiling at Aunt Lydia, falling asleep on the window seat, looking at the moon... the images began to flicker and swirl, rushing together in her head till they were one, spinning faster and faster until suddenly, they stopped. With a start, Wendy realized she was still flying, that she had somehow relived a great many previous moments, and that everything was suddenly on edge.

Even as they rushed toward it, the great star before them winked once, brightly, and then quite suddenly went out. For a minute, time hung suspended. And Wendy understood. She was frightened, terrified of what she'd done, but she understood. Her wish had been granted, and in some inexplicable way, the Second Star had been part of it.

The spell broke without warning, as Peter jerked back, halting everyone.

"It's gone." Michael whispered, stunned. "The star...it's gone."

And Wendy's last thought, even as she looked on in disbelief, was that a very different sort of adventure had just begun.

A/N: I will be going away for two weeks, and this chapter is most likely the last update I will be able to manage before I leave. Look for Chapter Five around August 15th, as that's when I get back. I hope everyone sticks around, and once again, thanks to my wonderful reviewers!!