Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update! I've been so busy lately, again I will warn that updates will be extremely slow. Thanks for those of you who read this. Especially thanks to reviewers! And to the guest reviewer(s) your comments always make me feel great, but I can't reply to guest comments to tell you that! Now enjoy this story! Please review, they help sooooo much!

The trap was set. Peter grinned at Gabe Yolk. Gabe gave him a thumbs up: his work had been done.

Greg Hurle waltzed down the hallway, taking no notice of Peter in his hiding spot. Gabe casually leaned against the wall, watching.

Greg opened his locker and gasped.

"What in the world?" he muttered.

Gabe had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Greg's locker was filled with pink flowers and hearts. Greg frowned, confused. Gabe smiled and pulled a string attached to it. A fan went off, blowing the flowers and hearts all over Greg. At the same time a camera, now revealed to have been under the pink flowers, went off. Gabe quickly walked over to Greg and "accidentally" bumped him, quickly grabbing the camera before Greg could notice.

"Oh, sorry man. I went to see what was going on," said Gabe.

"Watch it, Yolk," said Greg with a glare.

Gabe shrugged and walked down the hallway, handing the camera to Peter as he passed.

Later that day, Peter saw Greg talking to Trish and invited himself over.

"It's so bizarre! It wasn't even a good prank," Greg was saying.

"Maybe you have a secret admirer," suggested Trish, causing color to rush to Greg's face.

"Oh yeah Greg, I know lots of girls who absolutely love you," said Peter, cutting in.

"Stay out of this, Price," growled Greg.

Trish just looked at Peter, unsure what to say. They hadn't spoken since the day they had skipped school together. Her father had been furious, telling her to stay away from Peter. Trish, however, had noticed a nostalgic twinkle in her father's eye, longing for that very same adventure. For a moment, her father was the pudgy child, Cubby, from Neverland. Unfortunately, he meant his words and Trish had obediently listened.

"You can't hate a guy for trying to help," said Peter, shrugging. "By the way, love that picture of you on the cover of the school newspaper."

"What picture?" asked Greg.

Peter handed him a copy. A picture of a surprised Greg with wind-blown hair surrounded with hearts and flowers was on the cover. The headline was "Tough Guy?" written by an anonymous journalist. Greg was furious.

"Oh, Greg," said Trish, trying not to giggle.

"Price, this had to be you," said Greg, grabbing Peter's shirt.

"Now Greg, don't be silly. You have nothing to prove, in fact, I think you're a really great guy," said Trish.

Greg let go of Peter and turned to Trish.

"You really think so?"

"Of course!" responded Trish.

Peter watched, relieved Greg had let go but slightly jealous at Trish's words.

"Watch your step, Price," said Greg finally, letting it go.

"Pan," corrected Peter under his breath.

Trish looked at him with pity, before heading to class with Greg.

Peter daydreamed through his classes before seeking out Greg at the end of the day.

"Greg, can I talk to you?" asked Peter.

"What is it?" Greg asked, both perplexed and irritated.

"I want to speak with your father," said Peter seriously.

"He wouldn't want to speak with you," replied Greg uneasily.

"Greg," said Peter, "How you acted today at my prank, yes it was me, it reminded me of when I played them on Slightly in Neverland. We could be great friends, Greg, it doesn't have to be like this."

"Like what?" demanded Greg, angrily facing Peter.

"We don't have to be rivals. I mean—I could start up another group of Lost Boys. And you—you could be in it," said Peter.

Greg's anger faded at the statement, thinking of stories he'd heard as a young child. Despite the grudge Slightly held against Peter Pan, he still told tales of his adventure in Neverland. Deep down, Greg knew he wanted to have adventures like this, even if he wasn't a child anymore. Really, the only reasons he was mean to Peter were his father's forbiddance to talk to the boy and Trish's affections. Perhaps Peter Price was a nutcase thinking himself to be Peter Pan, but Greg suspected that there was more to Peter than meets the eye.

"So you really think you're him?" Greg challenged.

"Think I'm who?" asked Peter.

"Peter Pan."

"I am Peter Pan. It doesn't matter what I think: that's who I am," replied Peter.

Greg frowned, thinking of the times Trish had told him about her doubt in Peter. She seemed to be torn on whether Peter was really Peter Pan or not. Greg, however, was pretty sure he knew.

"I believe you, you know. My father would never tell me who you were, but I always knew. You're Peter Pan. You're the one who abandoned the Lost Boys," said Greg suddenly.

"I didn't abandon them. Or at least, not really," said Peter, slightly hurt.

"That's not what my father says," retorted Greg.

"That's why I want to speak with your father. I want him to know I didn't mean to abandon him, it was a mistake."

Peter looked extremely distressed and Greg sighed, debating. Peter was so desperate to wrong a right, or at least that's how it seemed to Greg. It wasn't Greg's place to stop Peter from talking to his father, maybe it was best Peter did explain himself.

"Alright. I'll take you to my father," said Greg reluctantly, "But why my father? Why not Trish's father, or any of the other lost boys?"

"Tootles has visited our home many times. He didn't really talk much of the other lost boys, but basically he explained that Slightly led the others to believe I abandoned them, and I guess that I shouldn't be forgiven. Tootles really didn't see the logic in it, I'm glad he hadn't. It's strange seeing him grown up, but it's better than not at all. Greg, really, I miss the lost boys. More than I let anybody know."

"Uncle Tootles, I know him. He hasn't really spoken to me about Peter Pan, I guess my father had forbidden it. But I didn't know he visited you," stated Greg thoughtfully.

Peter shrugged. He frowned, thinking. He desperately wanted to repair the broken relationship he's had with the lost boys. Peter had already lost Wendy, he was determined not to lose the lost boys in the same way. Tootles, the twins, Cubby, Nibs, and Slightly were all still in his heart.

Greg was considering the possibility of a friendship between him and Peter, honestly something he never really thought to be possible. The only problem was Trish seemed to really like Peter, something that made Greg angry, but Peter himself really wasn't a bad guy.

"Come on, then," muttered Greg, "I just hope I don't get into too much trouble."

"It's alright, you're a tough guy," said Peter.

Greg glared at him, but led him out of the school. They walked to Greg's home together. At the front door, Greg took a deep breath before leading Peter inside.

"My father should be here," said Greg.

"Greg, is that you?" a masculine voice called.

"That's him," said Greg to Peter before calling back: "Dad, I brought company."

Slightly Hurle walked into the room and stopped, staring at Peter.

"Hello, uh, sir," said Peter, feeling extremely awkward.

"Peter Pan," said Slightly, again confirming Greg's belief in Peter.

"He wanted to talk to you," explained Greg to his father.

"I told you never to speak with him," said Slightly, angry at his son.

"I spoke with him," said Peter, defending Greg, "Look, I haven't spoken to you in years, it's been longer for you, but I'm sorry. I just need to tell you the truth."

Slightly stared at him and sighed, suddenly tired.

"Greg, go upstairs. I'll talk to Peter alone."

Greg hesitated, before listening to his father. Slightly led Peter to their sitting room and sat down, gesturing for Peter to do the same. Peter looked Slightly over. Although much older, Slightly really looked the same. Perhaps a little weight gained, a few wrinkles here and there, but he was still Slightly.

"I didn't mean to abandon the lost boys, Slightly. When I left London, it was to say good-bye properly to Neverland. I didn't realize so much time would pass. I didn't realize I would never see Wendy again," rambled Peter, tears coming to his eyes.

"Peter, we trusted you. And you never came back for us," replied Slightly.

It was strange that after all these years, Slightly was still hurt. He was successful, married, and had a happy family. Slightly had a good life, but there was something about Peter Pan that made him extremely emotional. Peter Pan was his link to his childhood, and after going all these years without seeing him, Slightly had slowly forgotten it.

"I did come back, Slight," reasoned Peter, "it was just too late. I always planned to come back here with the boys… and that Wendy would be my mother. It just didn't work out that way. I'm sorry."

Slightly looked away from the boy, deep in thought. Peter looked down, trying hard not to cry. He missed Slightly so much, as with the other Lost Boys. If Peter could convince Slightly to forgive him, then maybe the others would as well.

"You planned to come back with us?" asked Slightly finally.

"Yes, I promise."

"Then I forgive you," Slightly whispered.

Peter closed his eyes as a wave of relief washed over him. He was forgiven. Something that had been bothering him all this time was now gone.

"How's Jane?" asked Slightly suddenly.

"Oh, she's great. Her cooking is awful," said Peter.

"I think I'll visit her sometime. I miss her from growing up," stated Slightly.

Peter frowned. This was messing with his head. He knew Slightly as a child, yet Slightly was now an adult with his own life, and Peter a teenager.

"I think I should be heading home, actually," said Peter, thinking of his family. They would be concerned if he came home too late, or assume he had gotten into trouble at school.

"Then good-day to you. Peter, Greg will no longer be banned from talking to you."

Peter nodded his thanks, and left. For some reason, he thought of Trish. Why couldn't she be allowed to talk to him more often? Why didn't he go to Cubby first?

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Edmund Price smiled at Peter as he walked into their home.

"Thank goodness! I thought perhaps you were in trouble again," said the older boy.

"Don't you have work?" asked Peter.

"Not this time of day, I only work in the morning. It's a great job," Edmund said happily.

"Is that Peter?" asked Jane from the kitchen. She came out and gave him a huge hug.

"What's that for?" asked Peter.

"I'm so proud of you, Peter," said Jane, "Slightly called me a few minutes ago. He said, all this time, he thinks he just wanted to hear you apologize."

"Wait, what?" asked Edmund.

"It's no big deal," growled Peter, obviously not wanting to talk about it. "What's for dinner?"

"Chicken and mashed potatoes," replied Elmer Price, kissing Jane on the cheek.

"You're home early," observed Jane, happy her husband was here, "We can all eat dinner, then."

The family sat down at the table, and Jane called Arabella. They talked like normal, Edmund insulted Jane's cooking, but Arabella remained quiet. Nobody seemed to notice except Peter, but he didn't want to speak up. She was always so cheerful, if something was wrong Jane and Elmer would worry.

After dinner, Peter spoke with Arabella.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"What? Oh, no, nothing," she said, trying to sound cheerful, "It's just, well, I seemed to have missed dinner somewhere else."

Peter frowned, but suddenly didn't feel like prying.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. You can always eat with them another time," he said vaguely. He didn't want to get into Arabella's life too much, he felt she would speak mostly of men she would think of marrying.

"Thanks, Peter," she whispered with a smile.

Peter smiled back before going up to his room. He sat on his bed, thinking about the days events. Slightly had forgiven him, something Peter did not want to forget. Did this mean Greg would be his friend more so than the opposite? He frowned at the thought of doing homework, and pulled out a book to read instead.

"Peter!" called Elmer, "A friend from school is here to see you."

Peter frowned, not expecting anyone, and trotted downstairs. Trish was at the bottom, and she smiled.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked, almost coldly.

"My father told me that I could visit you," said Trish, smiling.

Peter's eyes widened.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes! I was thinking, maybe we could walk somewhere? Only if you want, just because I can spend time with you doesn't mean you have to, of course," Trish mumbled quickly.

"I'd love a walk. I'd like to tell you about one of my very best friends, somebody who I miss, but I won't see again," said Peter.

He left the home without telling his family where he was going, and Trish eagerly followed.

"What is his name?" asked Trish.

"Her, actually. And her name is Tinker Bell, but I don't think she would like you."

The two walked on, chatting. Neither of them realized that from the upstairs window Arabella was curiously watching them. She smiled at their happiness, and turned away. She felt extremely guilty and knew exactly why. She had missed dinner with Captain Hook, or James. She wasn't sure who he was, but she felt awful. She bit her lip, and decided that she would visit Hook and Smee again. If Slightly gave Peter forgiveness, then perhaps she would be able to forgive Captain Hook himself.