When Neverland Calls Again

Peter stood, clothed in his usual attire, scruffy but warm green trousers and a matching green top. He'd had to make a few changes seeing as he had "grown" by a few inches. He wasn't wearing his hat today, it reminded him to much of Tinkerbell.
A pang of sadness washed over him, breifly letting a tear slide down his face from his green eyes.
Faith. Trust. Pixie dust
The words echoed through his mind and he watched as his feet lifted off the ground. But only by a few inches
"I do believe in Neverland" He said to himself, and Neverland. He rose a few more inches
"Faith" He said louder, again rising higher then before being atleast over three feet from the ground now
"Trust! He shouted, rising by more and being higher then the tree house itself. For a moment Peter was astonished he had rose so high from that one word. Maybe Neverland knew Jane would help.
"Pixie dust!" His loudest shout yet, making the colourful birds in Neverland take flight as if joining him as he flew, slightly ungracefully, towards the star that would take him to London.
It took all of his willpower to get him close enough to the star that it would transport him, as another way of putting it, he started to loose height as his energy began to drop, but the star quickly began taking him through, helping him fly.
When he had reached the other side, he started loosing height. Not fast, but very slowly with every foot he got further away from Neverland, the pixie dust wore off.
He quickly scanned around for Jane's house, Wendy's house. The house he knew so well and had visited many times before. But Jane had always been sleeping, it had broke his heart.
It was like Wendy all over again. For four year's he had watched Jane grow up, and it pained him. The only lost girl,the girl he fell for was leaving him behind to join her mother in adult hood.
Deciding it would be safe, he tried to land on one of the roof's. But he failed and slipped, grazing his arms and legs. He yelped slightly, biting his lip down to stop the tears coming. This hurt more then he expected.
"Ow.. ow.." he whimpered quietly looking at his left arm and right knee. His knee was badly scraped and bleeding, the scrapes on his arms were shallow but still painful.
With this in mind, he slowly flew to the roof across the road. When he landed ungracefully again his palms were scratched against the tiles.
Wen- Jane's house wasn't far now, he could see the window. It was open.
How glad he was that it was summer. Flying as carefully as possible, he landed on the window ledge. There, in her room with her back to Peter, was Jane.
He felt entranced, watching her write.
He felt his face flush a little, and he clambered inside, catching his left arm on the frame of the window. He whimpered lightly but Jane didnt realise. She was far too deep in her writing to hear anything.
Peter sat on her bed, watching her for a while before he cleared his throat
"Hey Jane." He said to her, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Hoping it wasn't Jane's child, hoping he hadn't missed her growing up and falling in love.