Wendy lay sprawled out on her front, groaning and disorientated as the surf drew back and forth. When she finally lifted her head and the sight of the beach met her she was deeply confused. Under her hands was not white sand but the smooth, large pebbles found in many beaches dotting the British coast.

Am I back in Brighton? Am I back at school? Has…has this all been a dream?

The stones under her palms were warm by the sun and she could feel it beating against her back. Along with the heat she began to feel an ache which spread out from a throbbing pain in her arm. Wendy sat up, clutching her poisoned skin, and looked at Peter beside her. He was on his knees, hands dug into the pebbles below as he stared out to sea with a large grin on his face. It was an alarming expression, one overflowing with happiness but also tinged with a strain of insane triumph.

"I'm back," he whispered and stared at her. His manic smile faded into something soft as he reached forward to cup her cheek. "Are you all right?"

Wendy opened her mouth to tell him how she felt, wanted to lift her arm for him to see but she could not. She could not speak as a gyre of emotion swirled up inside her and clogged her mouth. He was back in Neverland and this was the start of his long, dark reign. He was cursed, his heart becoming speckled with darkness as surely as he breathed.

This is my fault…if he had never tried to save me he would never have been cursed. The cruel, twisted, possessive Peter I know is the result of this…an act of love and revenge…he really does love me.

Unable to voice the pain and turmoil she felt Wendy leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and shuffled over to him, the pebbles painful under her knees. He pulled her to him, holding tightly and buried his face in her hair. Around the embracing couple Felix and the Darling brothers got to their feet.

John looked around the beach with a frown as Michael gazed at the trees behind them. There was elders, oaks and willows and through the twilight a carpet of bluebells grew in a splash of purple. It was not the steaming, dangerous jungle but a landscape envisioned and created from the mind of a boy who only knew the woods of England. Over time, as he touched the minds of others from distant lands and worlds, the island transformed with their influence and his own dark heart. But now the sun shone and flowers grew.

"The cure, Pan," Michael said and Peter and Wendy broke apart. By his knee the sack of pixie dust and ashes of an unknown fairy's heart sat. Peter picked them up and stared at Wendy steadily but she recoiled.

"No, I can't, not after what its cost you."

"That's exactly why you have to," Felix said suddenly and Wendy looked up at him, squinting in the sunlight. He was staring between them with an expression she had never seen before: pure, unbridled guilt.

"Felix…"

"I – I didn't know what the repercussions of my actions would be, what damage I would do, but I can't take it back…but if something can be salvaged, if you can be cured, than please don't turn it down."

Wendy gazed at his wretched expression and with stiff movements she got to her feet and standing on her tiptoes she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

"I don't fault you for this, someone else is to blame and he's dead," she lifted her arm, where the poison was slowly spreading. The sight of it startled her, she hadn't realised how far it had spread and she staggered on the rocks. At her back she felt Peter's sudden presence as Felix gripped her arm. Peter stared at the tall boy with an expression of confusion mixed with a hint of jealousy.

"I'll take care of her."

"Like hell you will," John suddenly yelled angrily. "Once Wendy is cured she is coming back home with us."

Peter's eyes flashed dangerously and his arm around her tightened but it was Wendy who answered.

"You do not get to decide where I go. I – I love you but you can't govern my life."

"Wendy…" Michael breathed sadly but she shook her head, sweat pouring down her face. She gazed up at Peter and smiled weakly, biting back pain.

"My place is here and always will be," she whispered and then slumped in his arms. She heard her brothers shouting angrily, Felix's low warning to stand back before the strangest sensation engulfed her. It was as if something had filled her veins with air and turned her bones hollow like a bird. If his arms were not around her she felt sure she would just float away and never come back. She opened her heavy eyelids and saw with a swoop of surprise that she was miles above the island. She could see from coast to coast; from Crab Sound to Bowline Point, from Pirate's Cove to Mermaid's Lagoon. She could even spy the remnants of an old village to the west, something that was swampy terrain in her time. She flew through the air as Dead Man's Peak loomed ahead and the fountain that it concealed. Wendy, delirious and exhilarated, laughed in delight.

Peter could fly.

The poison had faded as the cure was poured over her skin, until not even a spec of it remained. But every so often Wendy inspected her arm, turning it in the light until the back of his fingers slowly glided down her arm and laced through her fingers, tugging her to him. He had flown them to his treehouse and it was just as gargantuan and lovely as the one she knew. Wendy stared at him in worry, biting her lip.

"What if she comes after you?"

Strange to think that she and Peter have an enemy, one that had been there all along but she had been none the wiser. Whatever happened to Blue by the time Wendy first came to the island any threat of reprisal from the fairy had gone or passed.

"She won't come after me, at least not straight away. I know her, she likes to sit and plot before doing anything…and she won't be able to enter Neverland," he said confidently as he led her towards the window. Somewhere out there Felix and her brothers roamed and she hoped that they were safe and not fighting, which was likely.

"How can you be sure?"

"When I was here she made sure that the ways into and out of Neverland were sealed. She said it was to keep me safe…I couldn't leave, the mermaids couldn't leave so they stayed on land for some time…I think they felt sorry for me but soon they missed the sea…" he smirked but his expression quickly became dark. "I felt like a rat in a drain pipe until I found the dream caves. I can enter dreams," he explained and Wendy nodded, as if it was new information to her.

"Then what?" she moved back and sat on his bed and for the life of her Peter actually smiled shyly before continuing. This was second nature to Wendy now, she had shared his bed for years, walked around with not a stitch on for him to see and knew exactly what to do to make him come apart. Being around him felt as natural as breathing but now that familiarity was tinged with a sense of innocence, with novelty.

"I tried to call for help…and a fairy called Green heard me," he smiled with deep affection and Wendy felt a flood of love for him and her friend. She missed her so much and often wondered how she was now faring with Hook. She hoped that she was happy and that Tiger Lily had left them in peace.

"Tink," she sighed and he nodded. After a pause he joined her on the bed.

"She was friends with the two spinsters, that's how she knew me and I think she used to peek in on me here, I think she was worried…she helped me escape."

And you end up repaying her by trapping her on an island and barely giving her the time of day…Wendy wanted to push the thought away but there was no point hiding from the truth. Tink was a reminder of a time when he was helpless and in need of saving and while he may have forgotten that feeling of being in her debt must lie in his bones. Maybe that was why he kept her on the island for all those years, not as a means to measure the rate of moribund magic but because deep down Tink meant something to him. She was his fairy, as he informed her once.

"I'm sorry Peter, for everything. I wish I could go back and make everything right for you," it was a need she had hardly voiced because showing him any kind of pity was a sure-fire way of scaring him away. Now that she knew what he had endured she felt a fierce desire to keep him safe. Peter smiled strangely, shifting beside her; no matter what age he was he handled offerings of pity uncomfortably. He shrugged.

"I have my island back now…and I have you," he said and leaned down to kiss her. He hesitated before their lips met, his green eyes fixed on hers until she lowered her eyelashes. His lips were tentative, soft and very gentle, at odds from the all-consuming, greedy kisses she was used to. As he started to pour his emotions into it, her lips parting under his to welcome his tongue, they both felt a sudden build-up of energy that escalated until it pulsed out from them. Peter gasped into her mouth and broke away in confusion. Wendy smiled with a sad knowing; she had felt something similar when they kissed many times before.

"What was that?"

"I think that was your curse being broken but only a little. Because of what we are," she couldn't say True Love, it was too pure and good for what they shared. "Every time we kiss it holds back the darkness." It had always been so but it was only now that she realised the truth.

"Oh…" he said, eyebrows raised in surprise but then he began to smile slowly, his mouth curling up at the corners coyly. He leaned down to capture her lips but Wendy leaned back and placed her fingers against his mouth.

"Do you understand…do you realise the magnitude of what's happened? You're cursed Peter," he seemed only to care that he had his island back, that she was there with him and not the dark future that awaited him. Peter shrugged again, jaw clenching.

"I don't feel cursed, I feel fine, better than that," he said and leaned across to place a kiss on her cheek, nuzzling her skin. Wendy breathed heavily, chest heaving and tried to focus as he kissed his way along her jaw.

"But your future Peter, you don't realise,"

"What do you know of my future?" he asked and lifted his head up to stare at her. His eyes were thoughtful, curious and a touch shrewd. Wendy opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. What could she tell him? That one day he would threaten to drown an entire school just so she would stay with him? That he would plot and scheme to end the life of a rival? That he would work doggedly for hundreds of years to collect followers all in the hope of taking the heart from one innocent little boy?

Wendy closed her mouth and said nothing, just stared at him. He would become a monster but it did not have to be so. Years ago she had tried in vain to get him to take another course of action, another life path but he had refused. Wendy reached down and took his hands in hers.

"You know there is a way to break your curse but it would mean sacrificing what you want," she started with difficulty and he sat back, gazing at her in surprise but it quickly became something guarded.

"What?"

"Neverland. This place is cursed, I think it always has been. I don't think anyone was meant to set foot here or drink from the fountain. All magic comes with a price…but if you go home, go back to London, I know you'll be cured."

"What are you talking about? Go back? I just got here," he said and pulled his hands away from her. He glared across the room, shaking his head. "Neverland is my home and I will never leave again."

"But you said it drove you mad Peter," Wendy reasoned softly and gripped at his arm. He turned to her, his face set and harsh.

"I was alone then, I'm not alone any longer…Time stands still in this place and whatever malady affects me will be contained, slowed but if it one day spreads? If my heart is the price for this place and you? So be it."

Wendy gazed at him, again lost for words. He thinks I'm going to stay with him? Wendy sat still as her insides turned to ice. Somewhere in the distant future the Peter she had been taken from was likely going insane at her absence and she knew she had to get back to him. She missed him, she missed his wit and his sharp smiles and the way he made her feel like nothing else excited but her. She could not stay here, it was not possible but the prospect of leaving Peter alone after he had sacrificed so much to save her life made her feel like someone had gutted her with a knife. He hardly knew her but had all but thrown away his soul for the burgeoning of true love.

"I love you, so much," she breathed and lifted a hand to play with the curling hair at the nape of his neck. He leaned into her touch, the tense lines of his body relaxing until he gathered her up into his arms and kissed her. It was not the gentle, hesitant kiss they shared before but forceful, full of need and passion. The pulse of the weakened curse that had driven them apart only adds to their fervour. Peter groaned into her mouth as she licked her tongue along his bottom lip before deepening the kiss. He clutched at her, crushing her chest to his and delved his hands into the tangle of her hair before pushing her down under him.

They had made love more times than she could count. They spent hours wrapped in each other's arms, gaining knowledge of the others likes and wants until they both grew experts in pleasure. Her body was a map to him, one that he knew as intimately as the terrain of the island. There was not an inch he had not travelled and she was accustomed to his body as she was to her own. They had shared gentle times, rough times that bordered on ravishment and times that were hazy days filled with love. But this was new, never had he touched her with such gentleness, so unsure but eager to explore and she guided him with sure hands. He shook above her, with lust and nerves and she quietened his worries with kisses, pulling him down to her. She directed his hands to her hips, her breasts and thighs and urged him to follow with his mouth. He placed hot kisses to the bare curve of her waist, the soft inner skin of her knee and the hot, aching core between her legs and he did so with the dedication of a new lover eager to please. He coveted her pleasure, he wanted her to writhe for him, to scream his name and come undone with his tongue and fingers but it took practise. He was patient, very patient but when she finally guided his hard length into her he eased off her body and fisted the pillow either side of her head, gasping on his own pleasure. He was perfect for her, he always had been and soon she was rolling her hips to meet his thrusts, chasing a wave of building arousal until she came shouting his name. He spilled into her wet heat, gasping and shaking until he slumped down and pressed his body against hers, catching his breath. A soft slumber took them as she wrapped her arms around him, humming a tune and he asked her what it was.

"Oh, just something I like…" she used to sing it to her babies, which were now no know more than a dream. Unbidden tears stung her eyes but she blinked them away before he could see. Peter rolled off her but pulled her against his side. He fingered the thimble pendent that rested between her breasts.

"You said it was enchanted?"

"Yes, so it will find you." The sisters had placed a spell on it. In the candle light it pulsed faintly, a staccato rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. If it ever stopped…Wendy pushed the thought aside and lifted the thimble by its silver chain. She had been wearing it for almost fifty years, a gift from Peter on her seventeenth birthday. She smiled thoughtfully, running her thumb over the dented tin and then pulled the chain over her head. She took his hand and lowered the necklace into the centre of his palm.

"There, so you won't forget me," she whispered with a soft smile but her heart felt like it was bleeding. Peter frowned with a light smile.

"How would I ever forget you?" he asked, puzzled but kept the thimble tight in his fist. Wendy shrugged and looked up at the ceiling.

"Just promise me you won't ever lose it."

"I promise…but why?" he asked sleepily, drifting off and Wendy brushed her fingers down his chest, watching him fall asleep before answering.

"Because I want it back."

She dressed quietly as he slept, thrashing slightly in a nightmare, and she bit back tears and stopped herself from waking him and soothing his troubles. He was not as controlling as the Peter she knew but she could not risk him forcing her to stay if he realised that she was leaving. She could not bring herself to say goodbye because she knew he would never remember anyway. She descended the tree, tears on her cheeks, and found Felix waiting for her at the bottom. She was cured, she was healthy and alive but she felt utterly drained as she came to stand before him.

"Where are my brothers?"

"Back at the beach. Are you ready?" he opened his fist to show a bean resting on his palm. "I had another but I planted it…"

Wendy gazed at him and felt a tingle of something close to bemusement. "The Dark Hollow? You planted the portal beanstalk. Felix that is clever."

"Don't sound so surprised," he deadpanned and looked through the trees. "But it's not the hollow we know, it looks fine…something must happen to make it dead and blasted."

Wendy shivered. There was still so much she did not know, so much of Peter's and the island's history that was dark and unknowable. Over three hundred years span ahead of her into the night and she could only guess what was in store for Peter. Felix motioned for her to follow but she looked back up, her stomach twisting with guilt and sadness. She looked back down and her eyes reflected starlight.

"It doesn't seem right. He's cursed and now we're abandoning him."

"We're going back to him. Look I've known Peter for a long time, you know that. Soon he'll bring the first lost boy here and he'll never be alone."

"Were you the first?"

"No, that was Hook," he answered dismissively and Wendy's eyes widened in utter surprise.

"Killain? I never knew that…" now that she knew it made sense, there was a lot of unsaid words between them, bad blood but a sense of deep understanding. Felix shrugged.

"In time he'll save me and bring me here…1775," he added, as if trying to recall. Wendy gazed at him and tried not to smile. It was the most he had ever uttered to her. She assumed his guilt was loosening his tongue. The thought of guilt made her lift her eyes again and her smile faded away.

"What are we going to tell him?" she whispered and Felix stiffened, his long face growing pale.

"I don't know. He's cursed because of me."

"Because of us," she corrected sternly. "He told me that this place….and me was worth his heart. He doesn't care, he thinks he's won." But it was a deeply pyrrhic victory and she assumed that Peter would never truly feel the true loss of his sacrifice.

"Come on," Felix sighed. "Your brothers are ready to declare war, I thought they would kill me in my sleep so I came to find you," he said without a hint of fear or even anger, just mild irritation. After one lingering glance back at the treehouse she followed Felix through the trees back to her brothers and through her sadness she felt a tingle of excitement because soon she would be truly back in his arms.

Michael watched John blow on the panpipes in boredom, the leather satchel he had brought with him all the way from 1927 open at his feet. In his other hand were the pictures of their family at Wendy's birthday party, along with the one of just her and Peter. He had one of their family in his wallet.

"We should give Wendy those photographs John."

"What for?"

"So she'll have a keepsake," he explained calmly and John lowered the pipes and stared at his brother with narrowed eyes. The night before, with space to breathe and think, they had talked and John had confessed that he knew why Michael had gone back for him. He knew that he was meant to die and now that knowledge sits uncomfortably in the taller man, he can see it in the purse of his lips and the dark, troubled gleam of his eye. He died saving a fellow solider in battle, on a beach not unlike this one but now that fate was gone, replaced with another.

"She's coming home with us Michael," John said sternly, like the big brother he had always been but Michael glared at him, losing his temper.

"Don't you think we've done enough damage?! We came here to undo all the pain and suffering but we've made it happen John!"

"Don't be ridiculous," John said quietly, avoiding his eyes and Michael inhaled, calming himself. John was frightened and confused, he could only imagine what he must be feeling and thinking. He pulled the pipes out of his hands and dropped them. Michael stared up at him affectionately.

"We can't kill him, I don't think we ever could or would be able to."

"Then why did the sisters send us here?"

"Because…they can see the future, they know what must happen and I suppose this was part of it," he said haltingly, searching around for words to explain. Truly he had no idea what their true aims were, if they even had any, but he knew in his heart that the sisters cared for him and John and he held onto that.

"I can't bear the thought of Wendy going back to him, to that place…it's not fair," he muttered and for a heartrending moment Michael realised how young John really was. He was just twenty two and had never known the joys of adult life, his own so caught up in revenge and the Home Office that he had forgone any attempts. Michael had once loved a woman deeply, been through a war, suffered unimaginable torture but made it out of the other side determined to save his family and he would not stop now. He reached up and cupped his hand around his brother's neck and stared him in the eye.

"I have a new vow for you and it is to live. No more death, no more anger and pain. I want you to love and be loved. Do you hear me?" he asked with unbridled conviction and like any reserved Englishman confront with an outpouring of emotion John grew very red and stammered. Finally he managed to laugh and it was the first time he had heard John laugh in years.

"Have you gone barmy?"

"Very likely."

"Oh god…I just want to punch that jugged eared bastard in the face, just once."

Behind them a giggle sounded and they turned to see Wendy with her hand over her mouth, as if embarrassed that she had laughed at Peter's expense. She lowered her hand and her smile transformed into one so achingly lovely that the brothers were entranced. She had never looked more like their mother in that moment. They gathered her small frame up in their arms and hugged her as Felix stood back, looking bored and impatient. Finally he cleared his throat, eyeing the brightening horizon, and showed them the last remaining bean he had.

"Shall we?"

"Yes, let's go before I change my mind," Wendy said and there were tears in her eyes again. Beset with terrible guilt but also a fragile happiness Wendy took her brother's hands and on the count of three they jumped into the portal.

The sun rose over the island steadily and a gentle breeze blew through the trees, making the leather satchel that John had forgotten flutter. The panpipes sitting on the bag produced low, melancholy notes that carried over the air as the wind played over the instrument, a wind that increased until a boy appeared at the wavering treeline. Peter was shaking, his shoulders hunched and he viewed the now raging sea with a look that shifted from agony to a cruel and biting resentment. He was alone and she was gone.

The sound of the pipes drew him onto the beach and it had a strange effect on him. The pain that he felt started to fade until his stomach was not contorted with pain but felt oddly hollow. He reached for the pipes, his pained expression shifting into something dreamy, and tentatively brought the pipes up to his lips and blew. The sweetest, most intoxicating sound drifted around him and seemed to fill him up, shrouding the turmoil until it was as if the tears he had shed and the rage he had felt were no more than a dream.

Standing straight and with his hands on his hips Peter surveyed his island with a carefree smile that progressively turned into something avaricious. He bent down for the satchel and slung it over his shoulder before slotting the pipes into his belt. The thimble in his hand gave him pause. He had been holding it so tight that it had almost cut into his palm. He tilted his head, wondering why he had it and a reckless part of him wanted to throw it into the sea but something made him stop. He knew that it was precious, though he could not say why. He handled the necklace gently and carefully lowered it into the bag before setting off for his treehouse.

A nightmare, that's all it had been and now he was awake and the entire island woke with him, rejoicing at the return of its master and other half, even as storm clouds gathered in the distance, threatening darkness and rain.

a.n:

and thus ends the adventure of the great time travelling thimble. Okay so a few more chapters to come before I go on a wee break to plot out the next 50 years of this story... O_O