Thank you story followers and favourite-ers! I'm very thrilled and glad you love this fanfic, as I love making it! Writing is one of the greatest hobbies I love and treasure, and I'm glad I get to show many of you how much it really means to me! VIVA LA FANFICTION! :D

A/N: Though the characters are based on the 2003 movie, the Darling parents' personalities are mostly based on the 1956 Disney movie (though there might be slight resemblances…)

Enjoy!


Peter knocked down his chair in frustration, eyes filled with tears. Slowly, he slumped onto the cold mattress with his hands clasping his head. Tinker Bell sat on Peter's shoulder, leaning at the crook of his neck.

"Were we really gone that long, Tink?" Peter sniffed. Tinker Bell shook her head, for she didn't know how long. Peter groaned as he lay down onto his bed, hands behind his head. He wiped away his tears and looked up at the ceiling. He smirked. "Back in Neverland," Peter said to himself. "I could see countless stars in the sky. The cool wind blowing on the grass that I used to lie on would always drive me straight to an endless sleep. But now," Peter choked. Tears were blurring his eyes.

"It's just black." Tinker Bell patted Peter's forehead, trying to help him feel better. Peter covered eyes. "Tink, do you think it was worth it? Going back here to London, trying to see how life was like here, trying to get a job and house to live in, to see Wendy and the Lost Boys again? It all seems so blurry now. I don't see a point why we're here anymore!"

Peter sat up, staring out his window. "Neverland was the perfect place for me. I never grew old, I never had to worry about anything, and I always had fun." Peter fumed inside again. "So why am I here?" he yelled, throwing his pillow at his desk. Peter noticed the pillow knocked over something that clinked onto the floor. He got up quickly and picked it up. It was something Peter couldn't describe in the dark, so he asked Tinker Bell to help. She flew beside the object. It was a thimble.

'The thimble that saved Wendy's life,' Peter thought. He engulfed the thimble in his hand, and struck a determined look at Tink. Tinker Bell flew beside Peter, mirroring the expression Peter has on his face. "I'm not giving up just yet, Tink," Peter said, staring at the thimble in his hands.

"Not yet."


The sun shone brightly as Wendy entered the dining table. Her mother, Mary Darling, was pouring a glass of milk for her father, George Darling, who was reading the daily newspaper. She sat down and slouched onto the table. "Wendy Angela Moira Darling, you know it is rude to slouch in the dining table! Now sit up straight as I hand you breakfast," Mrs. Darling snapped at Wendy, but with a hint of playfulness in her eyes. Wendy loved her mother; she was more understanding than her father, in her opinion. She was always happy and kind. She lets Wendy pick out her dresses on her own and she listens to her when she needs someone to talk to.

Her father was quite the opposite. Though Wendy respected her father for keeping the Lost Boys, he began to change back to his usual, boastful self soon after the Lost Boys were shipped to boarding school. Wendy, John and Michael pleaded their father not to let the Lost Boys attend Boarding School, but 'it's a choice made especially good for everyone', he said. Wendy still couldn't understand why her father seemed so serious and strict now.

Wendy began to think of questions to ask her father: What is the real reason you sent the Lost Boys to boarding school, Father? Why didn't you send Michael and John? Did you really love the Lost Boys as your own family, or are you just giving them away? Does Peter Pan have anything to do with it? Do you still believe? But worse of all, why did you change, Father?

Wendy's questions were burning inside her head, so she raised her head up high, looked straight at her father, who was still reading the newspaper, opened her mouth, and-

"Good morning, Mother! Good morning Father!" John and Michael exclaimed, kissing each of them on the cheek. Wendy slumped back onto her chair, letting out a gasp of air. She sat up straight again when she heard her father clear his throat.

"Boys, do you know what day it is today?" her father's booming voice asked, turned the page. John and Michael gulped as his father didn't make eye contact with anyone but the newspaper. "Well, answer!" Mr. Darling said, now looking over at the boys from the paper. John cleared his throat. "We're going back to St. Paul's-"

"You're going back to St. Paul's! Aren't you boys excited? You should be lucky you're attending that school. It's the most prestigious boarding school in all of London!" Mr. Darling interrupted with a huge grin on his face.

Wendy saw her brother's happiness drain out. She was happy that Michael and John got to come back home for a week to visit, but knew that the Lost Boys had to stay to do extra classes for their 'lack of knowledge'. Just then, Mrs. Darling and Nana, their dog nanny, came in with their breakfast. Mrs. Darling gave out the plates as Nana carried the tray on her back. John tried to show a smile at his father, but Michael went up to Nana and hugged her tightly. "Father, I want to stay home and go to a school like Wendy," Michael, whimpered. Wendy turned back to John, who was holding back tears.

Mr. Darling grumbled. "Michael, boarding school is not only a chance for you to learn higher learning, but a chance for you to let go of silly things, like Nana and toys!" Michael began to cry as Mrs. Darling hugged and comforted him, telling him it'll be alright. John got up from his seat and ran to Michael and his mother, who couldn't hold back his tears. Mr. Darling groaned.

"Mary, how are you going to let the kids grow if you keep treating them like children?"

"Because they are still children, George." Mrs. Darling exclaimed to her husband. "Yes they are growing into men, yes they will be getting jobs soon, yes they are learning independence, but they are still our children, George. And as parents, we need to support and love them every step of the way."

" I still don't understand why you must send them and the other boys to this school…" Mrs. Darling added, telling Michael and John to sit down and finish their breakfast. Wendy's ears perked up as her father stood up. "Don't make us have this talk again, Mary."

"But I still don't understand!" Mrs. Darling exclaimed, her hands flinging in the air.

"He was my customer at the bank, and we became friends. It turns out he is the principal of St. Paul's, and he agreed to let the boys attend for a discounted fee." Mr. Darling explained stressfully, as if explaining it to a three year old child. Mrs. Darling sighed.

"But honey, maybe the boys don't like it there-"

"There will be things that the boys will like and won't like in the world, and this is just one of those things that they will have to face! It is a very good opportunity!" Mr. Darling exclaimed, looking back at john and Michael. "Absolutely! Of course, you must." he added quietly.

Wendy's brain flushed from memories, but she didn't understand how and why. 'Absolutely! Of course, you must', she repeated in her head. She was stuck trying to hold onto the memory but was stopped when she realized John and Michael are leaving. She ran to the front door.

Mr. Darling was lifting the boys' bags onto the carriage as Mrs. Darling hugged the boy's one last time. As they let go, Wendy jumped in and hugged her brothers, tears forming in her eyes. "Remember to say Hello to the Lost Boys for me," Wendy whispered to John and Michael, who were nodding endlessly with tears.

"And never stop believing." She added as she kissed both of them on the cheek. They smiled at Wendy, gave one last embrace, and headed towards the carriage. The boys waved goodbye until the crowd of people and horses quickly lost them at sight.

Wendy went up to her room, thinking back at what her father said.

'Absolutely! Of course, you must.'

'Stop it, Wendy,' Wendy thought to herself.

It's not that important'.

Instead she began to think of the times she had with John and Michael after they came back from their boarding school weeks earlier.

"Oh, Wendy, boarding school is such a bore! No toys, no stories, just work, study, sleep everyday!" Michael complained to Wendy as they helped each other unpack the boys' luggage.

"It true, oh and you should've seen the Principal, Wendy," John added. "He has his oily, black long wavy hair tied up, and this creepy smile. If it weren't for his two hands, I'd say he looks just like Captain Hook!"

Michael, Wendy laughed at John. "It's impossible that's Captain Hook. He got swallowed by a crocodile, remember?" Wendy giggled. John shrugged.

"I know… it's just that the resemblance looks so… creepy."

Wendy stopped. John's description of his principal. Father's words. The memories flashing back. Wendy remembered. She was on the Jolly Roger with Captain Hook after telling a story to his crew.

"Might I have time to consider your generous offer?" she once asked Hook.

He replied,

"Absolutely. Of course, you must."


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