Status: once upon a time, there was a co-write...

Broken Illusion

Wendy.

Ignoring what Peter had said about visions, Wendy launched into a frenzy of questions, asking him all about Neverland and his life. She was so excited to finally meet one of her story book characters, she didn't even have time to wonder if she was dreaming or downright insane.

"Wendy," Peter sighed, but she continued her attack of questions that Peter didn't have time to answer. When he realised that she wasn't going to stop soon, he shoved his hand over her mouth, as he had when they first came face to face moments ago.

She pulled away from his hand, which tasted like dirt, crossing her arms over her chest. She'd only wanted a little insight into the boy she'd thought was fictional.

"Let's go and sit on the roof," she sighed, "we wouldn't want to wake the boys."

After Peter had flown her up onto the roof and set her down comfortably, Wendy asked another question. This time, she was calm and collected in her asking.

"Why are you here, Peter Pan?"

Peter grinned, flying through the air around her so that her hair billowed and blowed. Wendy waited patiently for her answer, which Peter murmured as he floated by, "you're psychic, Wendy Darling."

"Don't call me that," Wendy instructed, frowning. The way he'd said it had been so patronising, "and I am not psychic."

Peter drifted down to a seated position next to Wendy on the roof. He grinned from ear to ear, "sure you are."

"But I've never predicted anything in my life," Wendy explained, "you must have the wrong girl."

"You predicted me."

Wendy couldn't help but smile when he said that. It was sort of... true, wasn't it? She had predicted Peter Pan, but that didn't mean she was a psychic. In fact, if she was a psychic than she was in grave danger! If she was finally getting the adventure she'd always longed for, Wendy was surely not going to survive the Queen's examination the next day.

"Tiger Lily, Neverland, fairies, me," Peter listed, his voice barely a whisper in her ear, "they're all real, Wendy."

Wendy was so caught up in the visual for a moment, and then she turned a shocking shade of red. She was on the rooftop, with a boy, wearing nothing more than a bath towel.

"I'd like to go back in the nursery now," Wendy said softly, but Peter didn't fly her back inside.

"There's more," Peter said, turning to face her theatrically.

Wendy wondered if she'd created him so dramatic, or if she'd just been portraying him that way because it was how he really was. It was all so confusing.

"You, Wendy Moira Angela Davenport, are going to save the entire kingdom."

Now, that was something Wendy would never believe.