Feeling her mouth slip through air, she opened her eyes and found that he had completely disappeared. She let out a wail and buried her face in her arms, remaining where she was on the floor. Henry watched her, his jaw wide open, not too sure what he had just seen. He was also fairly certain that the young man who had just (died?!) in Wendy's arms had been the boy who had threatened him last night. He shook himself, convinced it was all a hallucination. He bent down and gripped Wendy's arm, pulling her to her feet.
"They're waiting for a wedding, Wendy."
"Well they'll be waiting for a long time cause you're not marrying her," said a smug voice from behind them. They both whirled around and found Peter leaning against the wall, spinning his dagger in his hand. He looked whole and healthy and even had a sort of powerful glow about him. Stifling another sob, Wendy ran to him and he pulled her into his arms. She shook as she cried into his chest and his hand stroked her back lovingly. He pulled away and stroked her cheek and her wide eyes traveled up and down his form. He was still here! He was alive and well and he was pressing against her, wanting to absorb her into him.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too!" He kissed her passionately, spinning her around in happiness. Wendy smiled up at him but her eyes went over his shoulder and she gasped. It was as if the room was in slow motion; Henry was running toward the couple with his sword thrust in front of him, intending to drive the blade through Peter's back. Wendy reacted as quickly as she could; she spun Peter around and felt the blade pierce her heart. She gasped in pain as both boys stared at her with horror in their eyes. Henry had yanked the blade back and thrown it to the ground.
"Wendy," Peter whispered and she took a step back, glancing down at the red stain that was blossoming over her wedding dress. Her knees shook and she fell forward, Peter catching her in his strong arms. He lowered her to the floor and held her in his lap.
"Wendy, look at me. Listen to me, alright? You're going to be ok. You're going to be fine. Because I'm not going back to that other life I have. I'm staying here and growing up with you and we'll live in here in London and you can do whatever you like, you can write, you can paint, you can become a doctor. And we'll have the most beautiful children and send them to school to be educated and I'll teach them how to crow and you'll tell them stories about us. Do you hear me, Wendy? You cannot leave me because we're together again." Wendy's hand went to his cheek and he closed his eyes, squeezing back tears.
"I will always love you," she said faintly. Peter's eyes widened in horror as she started to disappear from sight, as he had done only moments ago.
"No. NO! Wendy! No!" Her hand dropped to the ground, her head tilted to one side and her eyes closed as she took her final breath. Peter grappled at her dress but as she started to disappear, everything around him went fuzzy. Just as she completely disappeared, he lost consciousness.
"Wendy?" Peter's eyes opened and he sat straight up. He looked around, frowning, clearly at loss as to where he was and what was happening. He saw he was in his bed, and he recognized his and Wendy's bedroom, for her trunks were near the dresser and at the foot of the bed. He jumped out of bed and twirled on the spot, looking around the room. It looked the same as it always did; perhaps a little messier than usual but he supposed Wendy had been busy around the house to notice. He opened the door and peered out into the hall.
"Wendy? Wyatt? Addy? Farrah? Anyone home?" Wyatt appeared in the hall and Peter frowned at his son's clothing; he was clad in a boring old suit, certainly nothing that the Prince of Neverland would ever wear.
"Hey Dad. Uncle John wants to know if you're ready to go."
"Umm. Go where?" Wyatt frowned at his father.
"Wyatt! Uncle Nibs asked if you got the flowers." Wyatt turned to his sister and nodded
"Yeah Addy, they're on the table. Aunt Lily even gave me some of those white lilies Mum loved." Peter's eyes darted to his son. Loved? Adette nodded and Peter took in her clothes. Farrah joined them, her face red from crying. Peter started. He had never seen his daughter cry. Not once. All three of them were dressed in plain, black clothing and Peter looked around.
"One of you tell me what is going on, please."
"Dad. Aren't you going to change?" He glanced down at his leaves and back at his son.
"Are we all ready?" Peter saw Curly and Slightly come up behind the kids and grasped their shoulders. They too wore suits. Slightly glanced at Peter and bit his lip.
"Peter, aren't you going to change, mate?"
"Where are we going?" Slightly glanced at Wyatt and they both looked uncertain.
"I'm not sure if Dad is up for this," Farrah whispered.
"Up for what? Can someone please tell me what is going on," Peter said, starting to lose his patience. "And where is Wendy?" The children gasped and Slightly and Curly shifted uncomfortably. No one said a word. Peter crossed his arms and looked at them expectantly.
"Dad," Farrah said slowly, "we're going to see her now." Adette sniffed and Curly handed her several pretty white flowers.
"We're going to put these on her grave, since she liked them so much." Peter's heart dropped out of his chest and he felt his breath leave him completely.
"Grave?" he said in the softest whisper. Wyatt swallowed with difficulty and nodded.
"Today's the anniversary of her death, Dad. Mum died exactly a year ago."