Chapter 2 - London

Wendy Moira Angela Darling entered the Darling nursery. Her spirit was not very high, she was stuck with that terrible feeling when one has muddled things up. Her stomach ached, her head ached, and worst of all, her heart ached. So as Wendy often did in times of doubt, she opened the nursery window and looked out.

The second star to the right and straight on 'till morning shone brightly.

It winked at Wendy, both welcoming yet distant. Wendy breathed, one word stuck in her throat.

"Peter…"

Sure, Peter sometimes had told her she was " talking too much". But he loved her stories. He said he loved the way Wendy could take something ordinary and transform it into something completely magical and extraordinary. After all, as Peter liked to point out, he certainly wasn't ordinary.

BANG!

Wendy barely noticed when her two younger brothers entered the nursery. They both seemed happy and content, not at all daunted by what seemed like a heavy mist draping over Wendy's thoughts.

John, the second eldest, began whistling as he took off his top hat. John loved that hat dearly; after all, he was a practical child. But he was also always eager to hear one of Wendy's stories. Like Wendy, he had a very healthy balance of imagination and sensibility. He swung his cane and straightened his glasses, feeling very grown up. Wendy winced. Peter would give John a good talking to ("Once you're grown up, you can never come back! Never!") and then order him to go capture some Indians.

Next came Michael, who seemed very pleased with himself as well. He kept smiling his cute toddler smile as he tried to unbutton his coat. Wendy smiled lightly as well and helped him unbutton the new coat Mrs. Darling had purchased for him, with navy blue trim. Michael was very proud of it, and he would simply not allow Nana to lick it.

Nana was the children's nurse, and she did her job wholeheartedly as a nurse and a Saint Bernard. She immediately pranced in, pleased that her charges and owners had returned, and she began undoing the beds the proper way, not the way John and Michael naturally did it, by jumping on the sheets. No, Nana would do it properly, so the children could lie down and rest after such an event.

The Darling family had received an invitation to attend a party that was supposed to celebrate St. George's Day, even though it wasn't officially celebrated anymore. However, it gave people a reason to throw a party, and since children were invited, it made it even more exciting. The party was grand, with flashing lights, lively music, and numerous desserts. Wendy was amazed by the grandeur of it all. As a middle-class family, attending such an extravagant event was a treat for them.

But Wendy's energy had been drained drastically.

She had her chance to show the public she was becoming a proper young lady and had spoiled it instead by opening her mouth and blabbing about Peter Pan. As quickly as she had been asked, words began to sprint from her mouth before she could stop them, painting a picture bright and vivid compared to the dull London atmosphere. "Peter Pan swooped through the air, dashing and daring!" she had begun as if commanded. Soon enough, the whole company seemed shocked and appalled to find that George and Mary Darling's eldest daughter was telling tales that little children believed in, at the age of twelve (nearly thirteen!)

And Peter Pan? The angel who was said to hold children's hands on the way to heaven? Why were such silly stories coming from the eldest Darling girl's mouth?

Preposterous! Absolutely preposterous!

Wendy had been even more greatly embarrassed when her mother had to interject with a soft yet firm tone. "Perhaps later, dear."

Wendy sighed as she hung Michael's coat. Then, as a mother would, she got to work.

"Micheal! John!" Wendy called to them. "Let's be good children and get ready for bed. Do change into your nightclothes. Mother will be here soon; I'm certain."

"Yes ma'am!" John saluted her as Micheal laughed.

Wendy smiled. She truly and wholeheartedly loved her family. That was the reason she had left Neverland. Although Wendy could regret it at times, honestly, she was happy.

Wendy quickly changed into her favorite blue nightgown. She ensured that the boys were ready for bed, and together they picked up the remaining toys. Then Wendy told the boys a very melancholy story of a princess who was trapped in a castle of guilt and sorrow.

The door then opened, and Mary Darling entered to bid her children goodnight. She was charming, her golden blonde hair done up, her blue eyes twinkling, her "new" pink dress swishing gracefully.

"Wendy, you are such a dear," Mrs. Darling marveled at the tidy nursery. Wendy scurried to her bed as Mary began tucking in Michael and John. "Good night, my dears," she said softly. When she reached Wendy, she sat up. "Mother, where is Father?" Mr. Darling always came in to say goodnight. He loved his family more than anything else in the world.

Mrs. Darling pressed her lips together. Her "hidden kiss" twitched. "He's a bit stressed, my dear. Don't worry about it."

"Mother," Michael asked, "Is Father okay?" He was only four years old, but partly because of Neverland, he understood a great deal of things.

"She already answered that, Michael," John informed him.

"It's all right," Mrs. Darling ruffled Michael's strawberry-blonde hair. "Good night, children." She turned off the lamp and quietly closed the door.

Wendy couldn't help but linger on the fact that her mother hadn't answered Micheal's very pressing question.

Suddenly, Wendy heard her father exclaim, "By Jove!" Then she could hear her mother shushing him, saying, "The children."

Judging by the tone of her father's voice, Wendy knew something was going on. She was sure of it. If only she could find out what…

"Pirate Ransom, Mary!" George spoke again, loudly.

Pirate Ransom.

Wendy locked eyes with John, across the room. Pirate Ransom. Pirates. Captain Hook.

"Neverland," Wendy whispered.

And all of a sudden something pounded against the window, hard.