The next morning Wendy opened her eyes to see Peter looking down at her. "Were you watching me sleep?" she asked feeling self-conscious.

"For a little while. You were muttering things," he replied.

"Like what?" she asked.

"They don't understand. Who doesn't understand what?"

"I guess I was having a bad dream," Wendy said avoiding the question. John and Michael didn't understand that last night was the first time in a long time she felt something close to happiness. The town didn't understand that Peter wasn't a bad person, just lost-like her. She couldn't tell him any of this though, so she just stood up and stretched her arms.

"What time is it?" We're gonna be late for school."

"School? Who said anything about going to school?" Peter asked looking up at her.

"Won't all the Lost Boys miss you?" Wendy wondered sitting down next to him.

"I've been gone before. They'll survive."

Wendy sighed. Truth was, she didn't feel much like going to school either. If she'd gone she'd probably would've just ended up sneaking off to Neverland.

"Fine. What do you want to do instead?" she asked.

"While we're here... I could think of a couple of things," he answered smirking at her.

"That's not what I meant!" Wendy protested, heat rising to her cheeks.

Peter laughed. "Tsk tsk, Darling. So quick to jump to conclusions."

"You do this on purpose don't you?"

"Guilty as charged."

Wendy sighed. "I give up. Where's your bathroom?"

"The end of the hall. I'll be in the kitchen when you're done," he said getting up.

"Okay," Wendy said walking out. She found the bathroom almost immediately, rubbed some toothpaste on her teeth, and went downstairs.

When she got downstairs, she was met with the pleasant aroma of someone hard at work in the kitchen.

"You made breakfast?" she asked shocked.

"Don't sound so surprised. I have to eat somehow," he said sitting down. Wendy looked around. Eggs, pancakes, bacon.

"I'm impressed," she said sitting down across from him.

"You're easily impressed," was all he said. Wendy rolled her eyes and started to eat. Either she was starving or Peter was a surprisingly good cook.

"We're going for a walk. Here," he said handing her a change of clothes.

"What's this?" Wendy asked surprised.

"Some of my Mom's old clothes. You can't walk around like that," Peter pointed out.

"... Thank you. I'll-um- be right back," Wendy told him. She changed into the t-shirt and jeans in the bathroom and went back downstairs.

"They fit you well. Now let's go."

Wendy sighed and followed him. He was back behind his mask of arrogance and intimidation.

"Are you sure we won't get caught walking around town like this?" Wendy asked as they neared the schools.

"Of course not. I never fail-remember that," Peter said defiantly, but he took her hand and walked ahead of her protectively.

"Right.. So what exactly happened to your parents?" Wendy asked, curious.

"All in time, Wendy bird."

"Why do you guys call me that?" Wendy asked instead figuring it'd be easier to get him to answer that.

"You were telling a story. No idea which one, I don't notice what you say, just how you say it. And you must of gotten to an exciting part because you started flailing your arms. Like a little bird," Peter explained and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

They walked all through town, past the schools and stores, until they came to the forest.

"What are we doing here?" Wendy asked.

"You'll see soon enough, Darling," he told her releasing her hand and walking ahead. Wendy rolled her eyes and followed. Again with the cryptic and mysterious act.

The two made their way deep into the forest before Peter stopped abruptly. Regaining her balance after nearly bumping into him, Wendy took notice of the quaint little tree house.

"What's this?" she asked looking up at it.

"A secret. Follow me."

Wendy followed Peter up the ladder into the surprisingly adequate sized tree house. She looked around. There was an unmade bed taking up most of the space, a sleeping bag at the foot of it. Drawers were pushed up against the wall, faced down picture frames on top of them.

"Is this yours?" Wendy asked, not sure what to make of the house.

"It was my parents'. They... Left me here," Peter explained looking around.

"They left you? What do you mean?" Wendy asked. He crossed the room and sat down on the bed. After a moment's hesitation, Wendy followed suit.

"They were bad people, my parents. Liars, thieves, cheats. They usually got away with it, until it all started to catch up with them. We hid out here for a little while, but we were found out fairly quickly. Sheriff Graham discovered us on a walk in the woods one day. They killed him and took off. It all happened so fast. I wanted to run after them, but I had to at least try to help. Everyone came running, and by the time they got there it didn't look so good. I wanted to say it wasn't me, but they were already gone. So I went with it. To this day, everyone believes I did it and I let them."

Wendy was stunned into complete silence. She knew his maliciousness was all an act, but she'd never thought his reasons were so dark. For someone everyone was afraid of, he was so fragile. Her broken, lost boy, she thought tearing up and wrapping her arms around him.

"Don't fall apart on me Darling," Peter warned, but tentatively retuned her embrace. Wendy laughed through her tears. She wished she could just hold him and shelter him from the world forever.

"I'm sorry," Wendy said finally, not being able to find any other words. What could you did you say to a person who had lost so much and suffered so greatly?

"I didn't bring you here to ask for your pity," Peter answered. Wendy sighed and detangled herself.

"So why did you bring me here?" she asked.

"I trust you," was all he said, but she could feel the weight behind it.

"I trust you, too. Even if my family claims I shouldn't."

"They don't understand you," Peter said after a while.

"And what you do?" Wendy asked in her greatest effort to keep her tone light.

"Better than they do," he pointed out.

"As much as it pains me to admit it, you're probably right."

"So stay with me. Here. We can have our own private Neverland," Peter said suddenly.

"Peter I-I can't. My brothers.."

"Don't understand you. You said it yourself. You'd be so much happier here," he argued immediately.

"Maybe for a little while. But they're still my family. And we've only known each other a few days. I'm sorry Peter, I just can't," Wendy said softly. Deep down she knew she was right, but a part of her wanted to just forget the world and stay with him.

"Fine. Go home, be miserable. Don't say I never asked."

Wendy sighed. She didn't want him to get all closed off and cold. She saw how alone he was and she wanted to help, but he had to try and see things from her perspective.

"Please don't be like that," she begged gently, "Say something."

"I said everything I had to say," Peter said stubbornly.

"Fine. I'm not going to sit here and coddle you like a child," Wendy said glaring at him. Before she knew what was happening, his lips had crashed into hers, rough and passionate. Something in her told her to fight, but it was overpowered by an insatiable need and she found herself kissing back just as passionately.

"I. Don't. Want. You. To leave," he said pulling away so that only their foreheads were touching.

"I don't want to leave," she admitted touching his face.

"So why are you? Last night was the first time since I parents left I slept through the entire night." Wendy sighed. This was getting harder and harder.

"I have to go home, Peter. I'll never really leave you, but we can't just shack up here. I wish there was a way to work this out, but there's just not."

"Okay," he finally said after a while. That was it? Just okay? No snide comment? No cold shoulder?

"Okay," Wendy said feeling shocked. She curled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. They looked out into the forest, neither one of them wanting to break the already fragile connection between them.

"You're a good person, Peter. And I know I keep telling you that. But I'm not going to stop until you believe me."

"That impeccable talent for only seeing the best in people is going to get you into trouble one day, Darling," he replied after a minute.

"Oh, Peter. I'm afraid it already has."