sutal's note: Update on our fellow writers! (1) I just did a story review for phantomshadow99 for her Narnia story "Say the Word." Go and read it. It is charming! (2) Also, if you like Peter/Wendy stories that are incredibly written, Ladyanne23 has picked up her chapters in Never Beginnings! Go check out your fellow authors :) ty!

Chapter 120: Ohana

"Ohana."

Wendy turned. The wind smacked her cheeks. Clutching her shall, she shied into the black wool as Headmaster Mickey crossed the cemetery and stood by her side. Ears dusted in snow, he gazed silently at the two graves. The graves of Wendy's parents.

Neither spoke. Even the wind recoiled for a silent moment while Wendy remembered and Headmaster Mickey read.

GEORGE M DARLING : LOVING HUSBAND. LOVING FATHER.

MARY G DARLING : LOVING WIFE. LOVING MOTHER.

Mickey sighed. Death. The cruelest part of war. No heart was truly durable enough to say goodbye. The loved ones left behind would always be the unsung casualties of war; victims for the rest of their lives.

"Mr. Pan sent me. He said you needed to see someone." Headmaster Mickey laid gentle eyes on Mary Darling's grave. "Before the coronation. Before the vigil."

Wendy trembled. Just a little. She had asked Peter to grant her a moment alone. When the moment passed into an hour, she'd asked him to leave. And to save her a spot at the castle. However, judging by the angle of Peter's eyebrow, they both knew Wendy had no intention of attending the vigil.

Wendy swallowed a tear. She was being disrespectful. And she wholeheartedly admitted to her guilt. It was disgraceful. She should attend the vigil. She should light a lantern and lift it into the sky for the departed souls. She should. And she ought.

But, the idea of mourning her father around all those people – all those people secretly excited about new sundresses and coronation parities – was unbearable. And…

Wendy looked at the grave. Closing her eyes, she remembered. She had attended one funeral before. Her mother's. And she had not cried.

And Wendy knew that she was not strong enough to hurt like that again.

"Was he cross?"

Headmaster Mickey turned, kindly. "Was who cross?"

"Peter. Was he cross? That I asked him to leave?"

Headmaster Mickey smiled. "No. As a matter of fact." he said, warming at the memory. "He told me you were here – but he was singing like a bird. Seemed tickled pink. Floating over cloud nine. For some reason…"

Wendy blushed, unable to stop herself from smiling. "So…" Wendy rubbed her shoulders. The wind blew harder. "You don't think he minded?"

"Oh I think he minded. So did his shadow – "

Again, Wendy blushed.

" – but…" Headmaster Mickey said. "He seems to understand. He said you needed to talk…" Headmaster Mickey paused. Then, he whispered, just under the wind. "…to your mother."

Mickey glanced up. Wendy stared emptily ahead, either lost for feeling or too sad to cry.

"Wendy…" Headmaster Mickey shifted closer. "…the reason I am here…and the reason Peter sent me...is that you have been here before…"

Wendy's jaw stiffened. She stared too hard ahead at the graves.

"And you know the pain." Headmaster Mickey continued. "…of losing who you are. You've been trying to live with part of yourself buried in that grave. Which is why…which is why you are here now. Instead of with your family. Instead of with your brothers. Instead of with those that love you dearly."

Headmaster Mickey fully turned. He stared at Wendy. "You are here because your life has – and is – changing. But…you have no idea who you are. Because part of you…is here."

Headmaster Mickey bowed his head. "…or so you think."

"Or so I think?" Wendy turned. Anger punctuating her movements. "Or so I think?

"Yes." Headmaster Mickey stepped forward, voice stern. "Wendy you have lost. Dearly. And profoundly. And though you forbade your loss to hurt others, you are letting it hurt you now and every single day! Wendy – listen to an old, ancient mouse: you must let it go!"

"Let it go?" Wendy stepped back, repulsed. "I – can't! Never! I can't! Forget them? My father? My mother?"

"Not forget!" Headmaster Mickey clasped his hands, begging Wendy to understand. "Never forget! But let the memories of your parents nourish you! Not eat you alive!"

Tears burned down Wendy's cheeks. Stars twinkled in the grey evening. "I – I can't! How? How can I? How can I go on?"

Headmaster Mickey lifted his head. His tail swished, underlining his answer. "Ohana."

Wendy stuttered, recognizing the word originally spoken by the headmaster. It was a gentle, soft sounding word. But he said it powerfully. "What – what does that mean?"

"Ohana." repeated Headmaster Mickey. "Ohana means family. And family means no one left behind." Gravely, Headmaster Mickey took Wendy's hand. "Or forgotten."

Wendy clutched her fluttering shawl. "I…I can't. I can't do both. I can't remember some and forget others. I… can't."

"Yes you can. You did once before."

"I…? No. Whenever did I – "

Headmaster Mickey smiled. "Jim."

Wendy's voice caught, ripping in her throat. She touched her scarred forearm. "What?"

"Jim." repeated Headmaster Mickey. "You and Jim Hawkins. Best friends? An unlikely pair. I must say. Why, when Jim came to school your friendship surprised a bunch'a folks. Teachers wondered if you had gotton in with the wrong crowd. Students started rumors, trying to make sense of your relationship. You know – the girlfriend boyfriend thing? But...You and Jim have been friends since your mother's death. And his father's…disappearance. Haven't you?"

Wendy stared. She didn't speak.

Headmaster Mickey smiled against the wind. "Misery can be a common enemy. Luckily, you and Jim were fighting the same war. It's the only way you both survived. You survived because you had each other. You could continue living because you both had a best friend. A best, best friend. That turned into family."

"So you see?" Headmaster Mickey opened his hands conclusively. "You can choose your family. Because family doesn't let anyone get left behind – especially in life's drudgeries. Ohana."

The stars twinkled a little brighter, as if they were pleased with what Headmaster Mickey had prepared. But Wendy's face darkened.

"He's…not my best friend." Wendy caved slightly, as if her chest hurt. "He lied. He joined Captain Hook. He's a pirate. I don't know why but he…he…" Wendy shook her head, savagely. "He lied!"

Headmaster Mickey started. Slowly spoke. "No one told you?"

"Told me what?"

Headmaster Mickey looked disappointed. "Wendy. Wendy…do I even need to tell you that Jim was blackmailed …. tortured…for you to know it is true?"

"…what?"

Headmaster Mickey ran a finger down his palm. "The pirate's mark on his hand. Jim claims…it was torture."

Wendy breathed. "Do…do you believe him?"

Headmaster Mickey cocked his head. "Does it matter?"

The wind whisked Wendy's tears. Then, touching her mother's grave, she turned and ran. "No."

Headmaster Mickey smiled. He turned back towards Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed. Little orange lights speckled the castle's towers and windows. Lanterns. Being lit. For the vigil.

"All right Mr. Pan. I told her about Mr. Hawkins." Headmaster Mickey smiled as the first tiny lantern light floated into the big night sky. Beaming, Headmaster Mickey cast one last glance at Wendy as she ran. "Now, as long as Miss. Triton plays her part…there will be more than lanterns rekindled tonight."

The castle glimmered. Then, as if beckoned by the headmaster, marigold, orange, pink, and yellow lights swelled into the sky. Lanterns! Thousands of them! Swimming like goldfish, drifting like bubbles, and twinkling like fireflies, the lanterns cast a fiery aurora in their ascent to the stars.

The light radiated over Fantasia, illuminating Wendy's path. Breathless she ran against the backdrop of lanterns without heeding the beautiful spectacle. Shawl fluttering from her shoulders, she ran until she could hear the ocean heaving against Pirate's Point.

Pirate's Point. The place she had run to when her mother died. The place she had met a little boy crying because his life had ended. The place she ran to now, with no reason why.

The place where Jim Hawkins now stood.

Surprised. Scared. And defiantly hopeful.

Just as he was, the first time they met.

The wind ripped between Wendy and Jim.

Then, they both moved.

Jim seized Wendy. And Wendy seized Jim.

And as they hugged, laughed, and cried, the golden lanterns danced in the darkness.

sultal's note: Story's not over yet!