Chapter 3:
Come With Me
The night was silent, except for the hussle and bussle of the busy city below. The city of London glowed dazzlingly in the dark. The wind breathed gently into the atmosphere. The spherical moon stood proudly, high into the heavens. Each of the stars hid beneath the clouds, but even they could not hide the brightest of them all in the skies. They all stood still, watching the world go by each hour. One of them was not still. It hurriedly was soaring from the sky and toward one particular house.
The star light stopped in front of the window and looked inside. There, she saw the oh-so-familiar nursery room. The walls were the same and the toys were the same. Oh the sight of this brought many good (and bad) memories of this place. Everything there still remained the same.
But she could see that this room wasn't the same anymore. Now, there was only one bed, inhabited by a sleeping girl.
*I wonder if that's Jane*.
She could also see an old woman, softly asleep on a chair that moved forward and backward. The old woman looked oddly familiar, but she couldn't place her wing on it. Other than the sleeping girl and the old woman, no one else was there; it was safe to enter.
The fairy flew up to the rooftop and twinkled silently to it. There, a boy appeared from the shadows. He grinned when he saw her and, after she reported what she saw inside, he nodded, congratulating her. As quiet as the silent moon, he sneaked down the roof and slowly floated downward to the window. The window doors were closed, but he knew that they were never locked for him.
He opened the window and looked inside. His fairy was right; the nursery room hadn't changed, as if he last left this place just yesterday. But he didn't know how long it has really been and hoped that nothing else had changed, including Wendy and Jane.
He could see his fairy coming to his side from the corner of his eyes, illuminating the side of his face.
*Here we are*, his fairy twinkled in a bell-like voice that only the boy could understand. *And look who's here*.
She pointed her tiny finger at the two figures in the room. The boy flew slowly inside and closer to the figures. To his disgust, one of them was a very old, grown-up lady, sleeping softly on her strange chair.
Her grayish white hair was held up on her head in a messy bun. Her face and skin showed more wrinkles than a turtle. Even her nightdress was wrinkled from top to bottom. She also wore a light blue shawl tightly around her body, keeping herself warm. What he didn't miss was the old lady's soft smile, making her look a few weeks younger. But she still looked too old for the boy's liking.
He frowned at her but for some reason, he couldn't look away. For some unknown reason, he felt as if he had known her before. But how could he have known an old, wrinkling grown up?
*Are we here to get Jane, or are you going to continue on staring at her*, his fairy twinkled impatiently. She couldn't figure out how even an old woman could catch his attention.
"I know Tink, I know!" the boy whispered to his fairy as he finally looked away from the old grown up.
"Is that her?" He was pointing at the girl in bed, the bed blanket almost covering her entire body; her forehead and top head sticking out.
Tinker Bell flew over the girl. *I'm not sure. I think so*.
The boy took one last look at the old lady, checking to see if she remained asleep, and made his way to the girl. He kneeled in front of the bed and placed his hand on the girl's shoulder, gently shaking her.
"Jane," he whispered to her. "Jane, wake up. It's me, Peter. Peter Pan, remember?" The girl only stirred, groaning drowsily as she unconsciously pushed the boy's hand off her shoulder.
"Come on Jane, wake up," he tried again. The girl turned away from him, the blanket slipped down a bit. Curiously, the boy took the blanket off of her face, asking Tinker Bell to come closer so that her light could shine over the girl.
The second Peter Pan saw the girl's face clearly, he knew that something was very wrong. This girl looked nothing like Jane at all. He couldn't understand this. He remembered well that Jane had very short hair and proper bangs, a slightly pointed nose, and a very mature appearance on her face. There were no nonsense shown, only strictness and responsibility. But there was still that fun-filled spark that appeared on rare occasions, like when she first became the first Lost Girl and when she flew for the first time.
But this girl didn't have all that on her. This girl was . . . different. She had her flowing hair reach to her mid back. Her bangs' length ended almost over her eyes and was parted to one side over the face. Her nose was small and delicate too.
And her face . . . her face was nothing like he had seen before. Her face was a mixture of Wendy and Jane; motherly and independent. But he also saw exploratory and playfulness there; almost the same as his own, to his revelation. All these things brought wonder to Peter and he couldn't think nor could he look away (much to Tink's displeasure).
But there was one thing that was clear on his mind: "That's not Jane."
Tink took one look at the girl and her mouth shot wide open in surprise, not expecting to see a stranger instead of Jane.
"No, she's not," an aged, but soft voice spoke. Peter and Tink twirled around to see the old woman wide awake, staring at them with a huge and tender smile; her eyes sparkling merrily.
In shock, Peter swiftly flew back up against the wall, away from her. The old lady was awake. When did she wake up? Why hadn't he heard her?
But all that didn't matter. What did matter was that she saw him. He has been discovered. And what's worst: an old and wrinkling grown-up discovered him.
Quickly, he jumped off of the wall and flew to the window, where he, with Tinker Bell right behind him, he would make his escape back into the night. He was close to the window when, suddenly, he was pulled to a stop. He looked back to see, to his terror, the old lady, pulling his arm desperately, her eyes pleading for him to stop.
"Peter, don't leave! Please don't leave!" The old lady begged, her voice quiet enough not to disturb the sleeping girl, but soft enough for Peter to hear her.
Peter struggled to release the old lady's wrinkled hands off of his arm. Tink came to his aid, pushing them off with all her might.
It was after what the old lady said that completely stiffen them. "Peter please! It's me, Wendy! Don't you remember?"
Peter froze in midair and slowly looked down at the grown up woman. This is Wendy? How could this be her? It can't be!
He moved closer to her and studied her face. Of course, all he saw were more wrinkles. But when he looked into her eyes, he saw those soft and motherly eyes that he remembered from so long ago. He knew that those exact eyes could only belong to Wendy Darling herself.
"Wendy?" he spoke breathlessly. He couldn't believe this old lady was Wendy herself. He knew that Wendy chose to grow up, but to grow up into something like this? He could barely even recognize her if it weren't for her eyes. She has become too grown up. But he could see, through her eyes, that it was the same Wendy as the young Wendy and the adult Wendy he had met years ago.
Tinker Bell was going through the same situation as Peter was going. She may not have liked Wendy, but she still had a tiny soft spot for her. And to see Wendy grown up and unrecognizable now. Tink flew up beside Peter to get a better look at Wendy. She still looked like the same old grown up that Tink founded when she first entered the nursery. But the old woman was smiling so happily and her eyes were twinkling, just like the starry sky. Tinker Bell grinned. This was truly Wendy. And she had grown up much more than before they've met.
"Oh Peter!" Wendy whispered in joy. "It's so good to see you again!"
Peter didn't respond, his throat heavy and his eyes piercing on her. He slowly sank to the floor.
Tink flew around Wendy. "And Tinker Bell!" Wendy giggled softly. "It's so good to see you too!"
She still giggled like that, Peter thought to himself as he watched her eyes following Tink.
Tink landed on Wendy's palm hand that had been raised up for her. "My," Wendy spoke in awe. "You still look very lovely!" Tink blushed and smugly twirled around, smiling at her.
"Wendy," Peter finally spoke. "You . . . you look . . . old."
Wendy sadly smiled at him. "I am, Peter. I have grown up even more. I'm more than sixty now. I'm truly sorry."
Peter's head bowed in thought for a moment, until he looked up questionably. "Wait . . . if you've grown up . . . then Jane . . ."
"Yes, Peter. Jane, too, has grown up. She had married and bore a child. A daughter." Wendy turned to the sleeping girl on the same bed Wendy and Jane once occupied. "The girl in bed . . . is her daughter."
Peter walked closer to the girl and stared at her. Tinker Bell stayed flying in midair, watching Peter closely.
Jane had grown up. She's grown up now. And now she has a daughter of her own, just like Wendy. He studied the girl and could see the resemblance. She has Jane's chin and ears.
But if Jane was all grown up, then there's no reason to take her back to Neverland. This whole trip to London was a waste of time. He should have known the world would change every time he leaves. Everything here grows up.
If that was true, then everyone he knows here had grown up. And when they grow up, they've changed dramatically. He's seen Wendy grown up, but what about her brothers, John and Michael? He hasn't seen nor heard from them in a very long time. No doubt they've grown up too, but could they have changed into what Wendy had become? And what about Jane and her little brother, the one who was ecstatic when he saw him flying into the night sky? Has he grown up and changed as well? Has Jane changed too? Could this sleeping girl change also when she grows up? Grow up to change?
"All grown up," Peter whispered, suddenly feeling as if all of his youthfulness had sucked out of him, leaving him alone and despair. Why did they all have to grow up and change so much? Why couldn't he have prevented this from happening? It would now be too late to stop this anymore. Sure they've made their choice to stay, but he wished he hadn't given them that choice and just forced them to stay in Neverland forever. Why would they want to stay here at all; Peter just doesn't understand.
He was so lost in his thoughts to notice Tinker Bell flying to his side, also looking gloomy, but only for Peter. He also didn't notice Wendy watching him, her heart heavy with guilt and sorrow, as she walked up to him.
"I'm sorry, Peter," she said warmly as she laid her hand on his shoulder.
Unexpectedly, Peter quickly moved away from Wendy's hand, as if it had burned his shoulder. "Get away from me, you old lady!"
Wendy froze in shock, her eyes in pain and hurt. Tinker Bell gasped, but all he heard was a twinkle. Peter froze too, realizing what he just said. How could he say that to Wendy, even though it's true? He immediately regretted it when he saw Wendy losing color and her eyes teary as she bowed her heard away to hide her eyes.
"Wendy . . ." Peter tried to say, though it was hard to speak with his throat heavy with guilt and remorse. "I . . . I didn't . . ."
Wendy didn't say a word and Peter swore he saw a tear drop from her face. She turned away and exited the room, leaving Peter and Tink alone with the sleeping girl.
Peter stared at the door where Wendy just walked out. He was completely speechless and helpless on what he just did. He didn't mean to say that to Wendy at all. He didn't know why he said it.
He suddenly realized that Wendy has become one of them; one of the grown ups he despised so much. But he didn't want to despise Wendy, just because she grew up. And Jane. He couldn't despise her either, even if she had grown up.
He slowly turned to the sleeping girl, who strangely hadn't awoken yet. He miserably knew that this girl will grow up too and he wasn't sure if he will despise her or not. Because so far, he didn't want to.
His eyes grew moist with tears as he collapsed on the floor in front of the bed. He gathered his legs up and buried his face on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
Tinker Bell watched Peter crying, heartbroken. She's never seen him cry like this and it hurt her so deeply. She flew down and landed on Peter's shoulder, smoothing his wet cheeks with her tiny hands in comfort.
None of them noticed the girl opening her eyes at last. She slowly sat up and rubbed her sleepy eyes away. Tink glanced at her and suddenly looked terrified. She pulled Peter's hair, trying to get his attention, although he ignored her, continuing to cry. Before the girl opened her eyes wide, Tink, without any other choice, climbed under Peter's hat and hid.
When the girl opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a boy, weeping on the floor in front of her. She realized that it was his weeping that woke her up. Taking pity on him, she quietly rose off of her bed and kneeled in front of the boy.
"Boy, why are you crying?" she spoke softly to him.
After hearing a soft and sweet voice, he paused, thinking for a moment it was Wendy who had returned to comfort him. But when he looked up, he saw not Wendy but the sleeping girl who was no longer asleep, but wide awake and in front of him. He yelled in surprise and jumped backward in the air. This action threw the girl off as she tripped on her nightgown and fell back on her bed.
"I'm sorry," she quickly said as she sat up. "I didn't mean to . . ."
But she didn't see the boy. Only the wide open window. Gasping, she raced to the window, only to stop. The night, chilly air was sneaking into her room and she rubbed her arms to warm herself. She ran to her closet, pulled out her night robe, and quickly putted it on as she ran back to the window. She looked all over the streets below, but there was no sign of the boy.
Meanwhile, Peter, who was floating up in the ceiling, watched the girl as she signed in defeat. It looked as if she really wanted to find him. He continued to watch her as she looked up into the sky for a moment until she closed the window doors, making sure it remained unlocked.
Peter knew that this was a perfect time to escape, but something was holding him back. He can't tell why, but it must have something to do with the girl, who was now walking back to her bed.
Without knowing what he was doing, he flew behind her and followed her. Just then, she stopped, as if she heard something. His instinct told him to hide again, but somehow, his body remained where it was. He watched as the girl slowly turned around until her eyes met his.
She gasped in surprise and, like before, Peter flew back up on the ceiling. This time, she saw him, her eyes wide open and her face smiling in shock and in awe.
"You can fly," the girl gasped in amazement. Peter stared at her in interest and uncertainty. He cautiously flew down and glided around the girl as her eyes followed him.
"How are you doing that," she asked him in wonder. "By pixie dust?"
Peter flew back in front of her, bringing his legs in a sitting position (as if sitting on air) and paused before he finally replied. "Oh, I don't use pixie dust. I don't need them."
"Then how are you flying?"
Peter opened his mouth to answer, only to frown; he had no answer to that. To be honest, he never really thought about it. "I don't know. I guess I was born to fly on my own."
The girl nodded acceptably. She soon frowned at him as she leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing him. Puzzled by this strange act, Peter landed on the floor and leaned back a little, feeling uncomfortable by her stare.
"You look . . . very familiar," she murmured mysteriously. "Have we met before?"
"Uh," Peter tried to answer as he stared into her sky blue eyes, which was strangely sending chills down his spine, especially when he and the girl were almost close together. "I-I don't think so."
"Hmmmm." She wrapped her finger around her chin in thought. "Are you sure?"
Before he could answer, a furious barking shook them to attention. They both turned around to see a basket on the other side of the room. There, a small puppy was barking angrily, jumping out of the basket and running after Peter. Peter instantly jumped back to the ceiling as the puppy repeatedly jumped up after him, failing to catch him each time. Upon hearing the noise, Tinker Bell peeked out of Peter's hat, only to hide again after the sight of the puppy. She did not want to be anywhere near it.
"No, Little, no!" the girl ordered the puppy, shushing it loudly. "Quiet, Little! You'll wake up the whole city!" She picked up the mad puppy, who was struggling to escape. She closed the puppy's mouth in an attempt to shut it up, though the puppy growled at Peter, who was now very scared of the puppy.
"Little, no! Calm down! He's safe!" The puppy's growled lessened, but was still struggling. "Little, stop that! He's good, I swear!" She looked up at Peter. "Can you come down, please," she said to him.
Peter stared at her, his eyebrows raised up in disbelief. Why would he come anywhere near that insane animal. But after staring at the girl's eyes, shinning with encouragement, he found himself guardedly lowering himself down to the floor. He made sure he was at least far from the mad puppy.
The girl held out her hand to him. "Give me your hand. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. Come on," she added when Peter hesitated. Finally, he slowly held out his hand and placed it on the girl's hand, who gripped it. For some reason, his enclosed hand slightly prickled pleasantly.
She gently pulled Peter forward her and her crazy puppy, whose dangerous eyes were still upon him. Peter gulped nervously, but because of the pressure of the girl's hand, he moved forward until he was up about arm's length from the puppy.
The puppy surprised him by moving violently toward him. Peter flinched back, but the girl had his hand in hers and her puppy tight in her arm. She looked as if she had everything under control, which impressed Peter, despite the knowledge of her owning a psycho puppy.
To Peter's complete shock and horror, the girl pulled his hand extremely closer to the puppy's nose. What is she thinking?! He tried pulling his hand away, but the girl had a firm grip on his hand, sticking his fist toward the puppy's nose. Tinker Bell took a risky glance outside the hat. She, again, hid herself after seeing how close Peter was standing toward that insane puppy.
The puppy paused at the sight of Peter's fist and the next Peter knew, the puppy's nose went all over his fist, sniffing along the way, as if detecting something wrong. Before Peter knew it, the puppy stopped. It grew a huge grin in its face and huffed happily, its tongue dangling out of his mouth. He quickly licked Peter's fist, tickling him.
Peter couldn't help but chuckle. Though he was confused. Wasn't this the same puppy that was determined to slash him into pieces? Why is it all of a sudden licking his hand?
At hearing Peter laughing, Tink peered out and drew a bewildered look at the puppy. She was just as puzzled as Peter was. She hid back inside, again. Only this time, it was to avoid getting seen by the girl.
He looked up at the girl questionably. The girl only laughed. She had a very sweet and charming laugh that brought a grin in Peter's lip.
"I think she likes you," the girl giggled, clearly proud (whether proud of herself or himself, Peter couldn't tell). She put the puppy down on the floor and backed away to give Peter and the puppy some space.
The puppy danced around Peter as he continued to stare at the small, but now playful creature. The puppy stopped in front of Peter and stretched back, wagging its little tail, as if expecting Peter to do something.
Clueless on what to do next, he looked up at the girl. "Pet her," she answered his unspoken question.
After giving her an understanding, but unsure, nod, Peter bended down to the puppy to get closer. He carefully reached out his hand and placed it on the puppy's head. The puppy moved its head against Peter's hand lovingly. With that sort of encouragement, Peter softly rubbed the puppy's head.
"He's kinda adorable," Peter remarked.
"She." the girl corrected. "Her name is Little Nana. But I call her Little for short."
"Oh," was all Peter said as he continued to pet this, Little. The name seems to fit this puppy, Peter thought to himself.
The girl narrowed Peter in concentration before sitting down on her bed. "I know I've seen you before," she mumbled to herself. She spread her arms around her until her hand stopped. She looked down at it to see a doll. Her eyes shot wide open in discovery and her mouth wide open in shock as she looked up at Peter, then back at her doll. She took the doll and slowly walked back to Peter.
When Peter looked up, he immediately frowned at the girl that was giving him a strange and scary look, as if she came up with the most amazing idea in the whole universe. Once he noticed what she was holding, Peter leaned forward to take a closer look.
It was a small doll that was carefully clutched by the girl. But it wasn't just a doll. After one look, Peter, in complete shock, found out why the girl looked so strangely at him.
The doll looked exactly like him. Only smaller.
"I-Is that m-me?" He raised his slightly shaken finger at the doll. The girl nodded, speechless.
"Y-You're Peter Pan," the girl whispered. Peter didn't seem to pay attention to her sound; his focus was still on the look-alike doll.
"Where d-did you get th-that?" His voice a little shaken.
"My grandmum made if for my mum . . . and my mum gave it to me . . . when I was . . . young . . ." She paused, a look of surprise flashed on her face. It seemed she didn't think she could talk like that, let alone speak at all.
"Oh," Peter said as he looked up to see the girl's wide mouth slowly turn into a huge smile.
"You came," the girl proclaimed breathlessly and joyfully. "You're here! I can't believe it, you're really here! I knew you'd come back, I just knew it! I don't know what to say-" she stopped when she noticed Peter staring at her weirdly. "Oh, I . . . I'm sorry . . . I . . . I didn't mean to . . . um . . . hi, I'm Margaret," she said at last, holding out her hand in greeting.
Peter stared down at her hand. "Oh," the girl, Margaret, said, barely retrieving her hand. "I guess you don't know what a handshake is, huh?"
Peter looked up at Margaret, then down at her hand. He remembered back when Jane was in Neverland. Before she made an attempt to leave Neverland by a raft she created, she shook his hand in farewell. Though, now, he didn't know it was a greeting too.
Not wanting to disappoint her, Peter slowly gripped his hand on Margaret's and shook it.
"Oh," Margaret said, very surprised. "I guess you do." She placed her doll in her night robe pocket and gave him a sweet smile. Peter couldn't help, but return it with his own, charming smile.
Just then, Tinker Bell flew out from under Peter's cap, apparently impatient on what was happening. Margaret gasped at the sight of a fairy. Little barked warningly, until Margaret muttered to Little (subconsciously, of course) that it was all right. Though, Little still watched the fairy suspiciously as Tink flew around Margaret.
Margaret laughed happily. "And you must be Tinker Bell! Oh, I've heard about you too!" Tink, a little wary at this comment, flew up to Margaret's face to examine her. Margaret only smiled at Tink, her eyes twinkling with glee. "My, my grandmum was right: you do look lovely!"
Surprised at this, Tink pointed at herself in question. When Margaret nodded, understanding Tinker Bell's silent question, Tink smiled appreciatively.
Margaret turned to Peter, who was unknowingly staring at her reaction to Tinker Bell the whole time. He snapped back to normal when he realized she started talking to him. "I'm so happy that you both came. But," she frowned. "I was just wondering: why did you come back?"
"Oh, well, at first we came here looking for Jane," Peter said, trying to sound casual. "The Lost Boys missed having her around; she was a lot of fun . . . when she wasn't acting like a grown up," he added, which caused Margaret to laugh. "But when Tink and I got here . . . well," Peter rubbed his neck nervously, not sure how to finish his sentence.
"You found out that she grew up and had me," Margaret finished for him, her voice turning sad. Peter nodded helplessly. "I'm sorry, Peter."
Peter sighed, running his hand through his hair in defeat. "Now what am I gonna tell the boys when I get back?"
Margaret shrugged as she made her way to sit on the window seat. "You could tell them the truth. They'll understand."
"You mean they'll be disappointed," Peter corrected.
Margaret nodded, but her face was soon overcome with complete misery. This grabbed Peter's attention, much to Tinker Bell's sudden dismay.
"What's wrong, Margaret?"
"Nothing," she shook her head. "It's just . . . I'm really glad to have met you before . . ."
"Before what?"
"Before I have to move away tomorrow." She finished in a low voice, but Peter heard her.
"Move away? Move away where? Out of the nursery room?"
"No, Peter. To America."
Peter crossed his eyebrow. "What is 'America'?"
"Well, it's a large country that is . . . very far away from here."
"What?!" Peter yelped, stunned. "Far away?! Why?!"
Margaret shook her head. "Apparently, it will be 'good' for me. Mum told me America could help me get sociable there, with different children there my age. But that's not what I want! Why can't she see that?" She looked up at the sky, where the second star to the right still stood. "She doesn't understand. Why is this so hard for me?" Little hopped up on the window seat and allowed Margaret to instinctively pet her.
She sounded so wretched as her appearance. This brought so much pity into Peter. His heart dropped just by looking at how miserable she was about going to a far off country. He stared at her with a depressing and apologetic expression. His mind was trying to find a way to make her happy again, as she was a minute ago. He wished he could help her. He wished he could prevent her from going to 'America'. He had to do something! But what?
Suddenly, an idea popped up in his head just when Tinker Bell popped up from behind his head. Tink knew that expression Peter now had and instantly flew in front of him, a stubborn look clearly written on her face.
*No, No, No! Absolutely not! Don't you even THINK about it!*
"Auh, come on, Tink."
*No way! There is no way I'm letting you do it!*
"But Tink, she needs help!"
*I don't care what she needs, we're not doing it!*
"What are you two talking about?" Peter and Tink stopped to find out it was Margaret who interrupted them.
*Don't you dare, Peter*, Tink twinkled warningly, but Peter ignore her. Instead, he grabbed Margaret's hand and pulled her up, an excited smile printed on his face.
"Margaret," Peter announced. "You are looking at your ticket . . . to Neverland!" He didn't hear Tinker Bell's angry groan. All he heard was Margaret's gasp.
"Are you serious? You're going to take me to Neverland?"
"Absolutely," Peter confidently answered. "You'll be perfect there! And the Lost Boys will immediately accept you; you'll be perfect for them!"
"Oh Peter, I'd love to go to Neverland with you! It's been my dream for a long time!"
"Well, now it's about to come true! All you need to do now is to fly! And by that, you'll need-"
"-Faith, trust, and pixie dust!"
"That's right!"
Tinker Bell's head shot up when she heard "pixie dust". There was no way she was giving her pixie dust to this girl. She quickly flew behind the drapes to hide. Little caught this and barked at the drapes. But Peter and Margaret didn't pay attention to why she was barking. Margaret picked up Little and brought her over to Peter.
"Can Little come along with us? She wants to see Neverland as much as I do."
Peter looked uncertain at Little, who was huffing with her tongue out again. Margaret pulled Little's face up. "Look at her. She really wants to come with us," Margaret spoke in a heartrending, babyish sound. Little's face looked at Peter with her big, sad eyes and her cheerlessly long frown. Little was giving Peter a very depressing pout, begging him to take her with them.
"Oh, alright," Peter said at last. "But Little is your responsibility, got it?"
"Got it!" She cheered along with Little, both so delighted to be going.
"All we need now is Tinker Bell." Peter scanned the whole room before saying, "Uh, where's Tink?"
Little right away barked as she jumped off of Margaret's arms, running after the drape again. Unluckily, Tink chose that moment to peek out, only to be seen. She flew out of the drapes, desperately searching for another hiding place.
"Tink," Peter called out as he flew after her, waving his hat trying to catch her. "Tink, come back!" He chased her all over the room.
Wanting to help, Margaret picked up Little and, right when Tink was flying her way, Margaret threw Little toward Tink. As if on cue, Little growled menacingly at Tinker Bell when Little was quickly closing in. This scared Tink so much that she stopped, allowing Peter the chance to finally trap her in his hat. Margaret ran and safely caught Little before hitting the ground.
"Aha," Peter cheered. "Gotch'ya!"
"Of course, I did nothing," Margaret said, playfully smirking as she pulling Little close to her.
"Ah, you helped a little," Peter said as he took Tinker Bell out of his hat. He held her tight, but gentle in his hand.
"Right," Margaret shook her head, her smirk still remaining.
Peter shook Tink up and down toward his hand repeatedly, releasing pixie dusts from her. Soon, his palm was filled with sparkling pixie dust. Margaret and Little stared at it with amazement.
"Alright, who's first?" Peter held out his hand covered pixie dusts. In response, Margaret held out Little. Accepting Margaret's answer, Peter poured pixie dusts over Little.
Little's small body began to glitter like a sun beam. Little slightly sneezed and again she sneezed, until Little was floating above Margaret's arms. Margaret stared at Little in astonishment. Little, even more astonished than her owner, wiggled her arms and legs in midair. Little tried dog paddling and slowly moved around the room. Little yapped in excitement as she flew faster.
Margaret couldn't stop watching Little; she was smiling so wide, she could have hurt her cheeks. She didn't see Peter shaking Tink again to gather more pixie dusts. When he had enough, he released Tink, who rapidly flew over to the drawer, furious at being used again.
Peter sneaked behind Margaret and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to face Peter. He held out his hand toward her and lightly blew the pixie dust toward her. She blinked to avoid getting them getting on her eyes and looked back at Peter. Grinning arrogantly, he took her hands in his and pulled her up above ground.
Before long, Margaret was flying along with Peter. However, her eyes were still on Peter. He pointed his eyes down below and Margaret looked down.
She gasped, tightening her hands on Peter's. But he unclasped their hands and moved an inch away.
Margaret was flying all by herself.
She cautiously moved around the room and soon got the hang of it. She was flying alongside Little, laughing with pure happiness. Peter watched them playing in the air, amused and happy to have helped Margaret to smile and laugh again.
Tinker Bell sat down on the drawer and moved away from their direction, heatedly angry at them. She had to cover her ears to completely block out their annoying sound.
Later, when Margaret glanced at Peter, she joyfully flew to him. Catching him by surprise, Margaret hugged him tight. No girl had ever hugged him like that before (well, except Jane, but it was brief).
"Thank you so much," Margaret mumbled. Peter didn't know what else to do or say. His mind was blank at the feeling of Margaret's strangely comfortable embrace. Before Margaret unwrapped her arms and flew back to Little, she gave him a kiss on his cheek.
It was as if time stopped itself. As if everything became so unreal. Peter's mind was now so blank, he could barely see the room before him. He couldn't move his body, except his hand, which rose to his cheek that had recently been occupied by Margaret's kiss. It was still warm. He could still feel her lips there, sweetly kissing it in gratitude. No one had ever done that in his whole life. Not even Tinker Bell had done the same. He didn't know why Margaret did that, but it felt . . . oddly nice.
Peter was so distracted by the kiss that he didn't see Wendy entering back into the room. Not until Margaret announced her arrival.
"Grandmum," Margaret called as she flew up to Wendy, who was so shocked to see her own granddaughter flying right before her eyes. "Grandmum, look! I'm flying! I'm really flying! And so is Little; she's flying too!" She directed Wendy Little, who was making her own tricks in the air, like bouncing off the walls and spinning sideways.
"Grandmum," Margaret guided Wendy back to her. "It was all Peter's doing! He's come back! Peter Pan has come back, just like I told you!" She turned to Peter, who, at the last minute, snapped back in reality to see Wendy. Peter was honestly surprise to see she had returned. He didn't know what to expect from Wendy, after seeing a sight like this, at an old age like that. But all Wendy did was giving Peter a sad smile.
"I guess you were right," Wendy said to Margaret, but her eyes were on Peter. "He has come back."
"And he's taking me and Little to Neverland!" Margaret added.
Wendy looked between Margaret and Peter, her face unreadable. "Is he now. Just like in your dreams?"
Margaret nodded. "Just like in my dreams."
Wendy took a moment to stare at Margaret, Peter, then back to Margaret. Finally, she said, "Well, be sure to enjoy yourself there, while you still can."
Margaret nodded, her smile widen. She and Wendy embraced each other. When they released each other, Margaret was wearing a frown. "What about my mum?"
"Don't you worry, I'll be sure to tell her. She'll understand, I know she will."
Margaret nodded uncertainly as she gave Wendy a warm kiss on her cheek. This sight puzzled Peter. Does she kiss everyone's cheek?
"Peter," Wendy called out to him. "May I speak to you in private?"
Peter reluctantly nodded. Margaret flew past him, to the window, as he flew to Wendy, on the other side of the room. Peter wasn't sure if Wendy was still heartbroken by what he said to her earlier.
"Uh . . . Wendy? I . . . what I said . . . before . . . I-"
"Don't worry, Peter. It is forgiven," Wendy said, once again giving him a sad smile. "You were right: I am old. I've had accepted that long ago and I should have accepted it before. But now, I do"
Peter did not expect Wendy to forgive him, let alone apologize like that.
"Peter," Wendy said softly. "I won't stop you from taking Margaret to Neverland. But what I'm asking you is to stay with her at all times." She gently laid her hand on Peter's arm. "I want you to help and protect her from what she will face there. I don't want anything to happen to her. I know she can take care of herself. But I'm asking you to not let anything horrible happen to her. Please, Peter! Please do this for me! Promise me you'll protect her! Please promise me!"
Wendy was pleading him through her eyes, on which Peter couldn't look away. He wasn't sure if he could make a promise like that to her. However, no matter how old Wendy was or becoming, she was still the same Wendy he remembered and he couldn't refuse to an old, dear friend like her.
"I promise, Wendy. I won't let anything happen to her. You have my word."
Wendy's face relaxed, showing a relief and believing smile. Peter looked back at the window to see Margaret watching him, waiting for him, with Little by her side.
"Go," Wendy said to him. Peter looked at Wendy for a moment, then nodded and made his way to Margaret.
"Come on, Tink," Peter called out to Tinker Bell. Although she was trying to avoid hearing Margaret and Little, she could never avoid Peter. When she turned around to see not only Peter, but also Margaret and Little ready to go, Tink huffed in frustration. She could never get Peter to listen to her. With no other choices, Tink rapidly flew out the window first.
"You ready," Peter asked, returning his attention to Margaret. She nodded, clutching Little.
With that, Peter pushed the window wide open. "Then here we go!"
Peter soared out into the night, hearing Little barking along the way. He turned around, only to stop in midair. Margaret hadn't left the window. She had a frightened and uncertain look on her face. Little was already outside, flying over the roofs of the houses. But Peter's main concern and worry was on Margaret.
Before he went back to fetch her, Margaret looked back inside, perhaps at Wendy, then, taking a deep breath, closed her eyes, and wearing a strong, determined expression on her face, she jumped out of the window and slowly rose up into the air. Relieved to see Margaret flying out of the window, Peter flew to her and grabbed her hand as he pulled her deep into the sky.
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Wendy walked up to the window to watch Peter, Margaret, Tinker Bell, and Little fly away into the night sky. Wendy was happy for Margaret to finally experience the adventure she and Jane once had. She only hoped for her granddaughter's safety.
"Mum?" a voice called from behind. Wendy turned to see Jane, wrapped in her night robe, entering the room. "Mother, I heard noises; what's going on?" She looked over at Margaret's empty bed, then looked back at Wendy with a frightened look. "Where's Margaret?" She looked at Little's basket and turned back with a more frightened look. "And Little? Where are they?"
Wendy motioned Jane to come closer to the window. "It's all right, Jane. Margaret and Little are on their way to Neverland."
Jane stood by the window and watched as the dots that belonged to the four flyers disappear. "You mean . . . he came back?"
"Yes, Jane," Wendy smiled warmly at the stars above. "He has."
They took a moment to stare at the same, second star to the right in the sky.
"Will she be alright?" Jane hesitantly asked. "I mean, she will . . . right?"
"Peter will make sure she is unharmed," Wendy assured Jane, her voice filled with faith in Peter. "I know he will."
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Margaret had never felt so much ecstasy in her entire life.
Even before she opened her eyes, she could straight away feel the cool wind, blowing not just her face, but her whole body. This brought a chill through her veins. Her hair, night gown and robe were dancing behind her and she felt so feathery. This was the experience she had always dreamed about. And now this was really happening to her. No dream, but reality.
When she opened her eyes, the first thought that came to her was how high they were. They were so high over the whole city that she tightened her hand on Peter's. However, Peter released his hand from her and flew faster. Margaret tried catching up to him, but gave up when she took another glance at the city below.
She had never seen London from this view before, and it was exhilarating. She could see bright illuminations, shining on streets, in windows of each buildings, even on cars that passes down the roads.
Little's barking caught her attention as she looked up to see Little swimming the air. With another bark, Little submerged down into the city. Filled with excitement and adventure, Margaret followed her puppy.
Once they were deep in the city, they raced through the streets, careful to avoid collapsing into anything. A few people (mostly the children) append to be the lucky ones to see them pass by. Grinning with mischievous, Margaret waved at them as she and Little disappeared around the corner. Soon, Peter came to join them and he and Margaret laughed with enjoyment as they and Little finally shot out of the city streets. Tinker Bell sulkily followed along, wearing an irritable face along the way.
They next flew over River Thames, where Margaret poked her finger in the river and skate it across the water, creating a trail along the way. Little stared at the waters and shoved her tongue in it as she flew across, also creating a trail. Peter hovered above Margaret and Little. Tinker Bell stopped flying when she saw her reflection. She admired herself for a second until she saw her bottom. Suddenly, she shot up just in time to avoid a fish, attempting to eat her.
They flew through the Tower Bridge and up to the sky. To Margaret's astonishment, she found herself staring up at Big Ben. Thrill developed inside her as she soared up around Big Ben. She was fortunate the clock tower did not chime in front of her; it was only 11:20.
Soon, she reached to the very top of the tower and took a look over the whole city of London. It looked like a never-ending sea of lights from where she could see. The whole sight was truly spectacular. Maybe even more than that. She wondered if her mum and grandmum had experienced the same feeling she was having when they flew over London. She felt Little flying up to her side, barking out as loud as she could. She was rewarded with faint barkings in returned. Peter appeared beside Margaret, winning a daring smile and a satisfying twinkle on his eyes that Margaret couldn't ignore. Tinker Bell flew up to Peter, looking a bit tired and was puffing for air, as if flying more than she had hoped.
Peter pointed at the star in the sky that was closer than it was from the window.
"There it is, Margaret! Second to the right-"
"And straight on till morning!"
After Margaret nodded, ready to go, Peter took Margaret's hand and Margaret took Little's small paw. With a puff of annoyance, Tinker Bell speedily flew first, leaving behind trails of pixie dusts. Peter carried Margaret and Little straight up to the sky as they soared over other stars and clouds. Margaret could see the city shrinking smaller and smaller as they flew higher and higher.
The designated star was fast approaching and Margaret couldn't stop the pure anticipation that was building inside of her. Yet again, she didn't want to.