Disclaimer: Peter Pan, all characters, places, and related terms belong to J.M. Barrie.

Author's Note: Another story by me that is very different from what I usually write. This is bookverse, movieverse, and very AU. I would greatly appreciate feedback. Enjoy!

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Where Her Dreams are Kept

She was born here, into this world with its earthy greens and browns. A world made up of practical, rational laws. Where your childhood barely began and in your heart of hearts you knew that you would leave it behind, would – must – grow up. You filled your head with mathematics, not dreams (if any slipped in, you instantly put them away in a drawer never to be opened again). Sitting by the hearth gazing into the fire, paying no heed to the window and the wonders it offered a glimpse of. Here if you claimed to have spotted in the park a tiny being with wings, you would be told it was nothing but a firefly and that there were no such things as fairies.

This world she was a part of.

Yet as the seasons passed, and she grew in size if not yet in mind, often she would lift up her gaze to the sky so far, so deep, so wide. Sometimes as blue as her eyes, other times as dark as her kitten and filled with small lights that flashed brighter than her mother's ring. When a sparrow flew by or a star shot across the heavens with a trail of light, she would dream… Dream of worlds where one could grow wings and fly. Worlds full of bright colors and rainbows. Where childhood lasted forever and ever, and dreams came true. And once in a while during those moments, she thought she heard the sound of pan pipes and childish laughter on the wind.

Then she was scolded for thinking of such silly things, and dutifully she put away those dreams. Such things were not for her, they told her. This was where she belonged. And she listened.

It happened – that colliding of worlds – when that which she knew in her heart would eventually come to pass was spoken aloud. …Demanded of her: "It's time for you to grow up!"

Unknown fear gripped her. What she knew was required of her was suddenly wanted now. For her to cast off her white childhood and enter, blend, become a part of the browns and greens of adulthood. Never open that drawer of dreams again. What she had known with quiet acceptance she now recoiled from.

She fled from her place by the fire, instead pressing her ash-covered hands and nose against the cold, hard glass. Stared hard and long at the stars above, silently asked if there was another world beyond them, where she would not be forced to grow up. With nervous, excited fingers, she turned the latch and opened the window. Stars seemed to look on her with curiosity. Was there, she whispered, begged, another world she could be a part of, gay and merry and full of color?

The invitation arrived while she slumbered that night, dreamed freely. It was the pleasantest tune of pan pipes, first teeth flashing in a cocky grin, and beckoning… Come fly with me.

Yes, oh yes.

Opening her eyes, she saw it was not just a dream. It was gold fairy dust, happy thoughts, and an acorn button on her chain; she left that dull world behind. And she discovered she did not need wings to fly. His hand held hers securely, his smile as innocent as her own, sharing her delight and joy. Just her size in body and youth, he with his hazel eyes revealed his relation to Father Time.

Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning. She instantly felt at home in this magical world, Neverland, without ashes, full of bright hues (and some sinister shadows) with its Indians, pirates, fairies, wild beasts, mystical mermaids, Lost Boys, villainous and revengeful claw, and child who was youth, joy, and freedom. Here no one mentioned growing up or old. She was like a princess. The hours went by happily as she mothered the boys, swam among the mermaids, fought pirates, danced with Indians, and often spent quiet evenings walking or flying hand-in-hand with him, his eyes lacking their usual cockiness and instead being soft silvery pools directed at her.

Alas, midnight could not be held back forever, and it struck with a loud, heavy sense of doom. She realized she had not completely escaped the grasp of that previous world. No, not when such…un-childlike feelings stirred up in her when he looked at her with that gentle look, while they danced on Thursday nights, noticed how he always looked out for her well-being. Part of her was still in that other place she'd once called home, she acknowledged when in the dawn she discovered her heart was no longer her own.

"He cannot love. It is part of the mystery of his being," the cold, dangerous claw had whispered during that brief, unexpected encounter. She knew he was right. What she felt did not belong here, in this world of agelessness and never-ending play. Here where secret wishes born in the stillness of the night…something more…was forbidden. Yet she did feel. Perhaps deep down inside she had never forgotten she was supposed to grow up. And midnight continued to strike.

He would not have her. She had let the mask fall away, the crown disappear, the glitter fade, and showed herself for the girl covered with ashes that she was, destined to become an adult. She could not stay in this magic place; she was already growing. He jerked from her touch and voice as though burned. The island shuddered at the ringing clock of Time.

"Then go home! And take your feelings with you!" he had shouted, his eyes flashing with rare, fierce anger. He had drawn farther back, hands on hips, face full of betrayal as he glared.

For a moment she had lingered, trembling in both body and soul, watching him. She wanted to make him explain his actions, for she knew she had not imagined the look in his eye or his gentle touch. But she did not ask him. He would not be able to fully explain; he did not understand. How could he? He was just a boy who had been briefly touched by the influence of her world.

So she had run, run from him as fast as she could. She felt the heat of his gaze follow her as she plunged blindly through the jungle, falling more than once. The tears streamed down her face like a fountain; her legs and arms grew red from the scathing of the branches that reached out to her, in seeming punishment for trespassing. The voices of the Indians, boys, pirates – the whole Neverland –rose in an unceasing, ever-growing cry that pushed her on faster: GO! Leave this place, leave us!

She raced out of the jungle into the open. Rain started to fall, along with gold fairy dust. Though she could find no happy thoughts, her feet swiftly left the ground. The lonely journey back was a blur as she sailed quickly through the dark, aware only of the slowly fading voice of the island telling her to go and of midnight finishing calling the time. Once she glanced behind her; what she hoped to see she could not say. The Neverland was a faint speck, all the colors of the rainbow that winked before everything went black.

The last stroke of midnight found her on the floor near the open window, curtains billowing in the wind as the summer storm raged. She wept in her sleep, her mind plagued by dark dreams.

In the morning she was found, scolded, questioned. She could only shrug and say she had been watching the stars and must have fallen asleep. She was reprimanded – she might have caught a cold. Their words rolled off like water. Blue eyes, now always dim and teary-eyed, took in again this world she had been born into: rational and brown and green, feet planted firmly on the ground. Here she would grow up.

She was watched carefully after that. Yet they needed not fear her flying off again. Everything that was asked of her she did quietly and neatly. They whispered, wondering what had happened. Never had they seen a sadder child. She continued to turn her gaze up to the sky – blue or star-filled – but no longer with dreams…rather, with simply sad recollections. When her hand wandered to her empty chain, she would cry quietly. Sometimes she sat by the fire, gazing neither in the flames nor out the window, but down at her hands, moving them as though telling a story. Being back, she did not find it to be completely right.

Though she was still young, talk started of how she would be made into a proper lady, a proper wife. How she would blend into this world. Support, love her husband and family. She listened in silence, knowing she could never explain that she had no heart to give; it had not followed her back.

Summer, autumn, winter, spring… Four years passed.

She was now nearing the brink of adulthood. Her body was beginning to change, and her face was losing its baby fat. Tomorrow she would move into her own room, be introduced to a gentleman for the first time. There were now light shades of brown in her white dress.

Slowly she approached the open window. The moon peeked through the clouds. His smile was almost sad, as though bidding her farewell before disappearing from sight. For a moment she closed her eyes, feeling the light breeze dancing over her face. Absently her hand found her bare chain and tugged on it gently. An ache formed in her chest. Goodbye.

She gently placed her hands on top of the window to close it – and on those dreams of that other place.

Like the gentle wind, "I…I think you lost this."

She went still, not breathing as a hand cradling an acorn button came into the light. Eyes stared at the small object, circled the hand holding it, then traveled up the tanned arm to a face with unkempt blond curls, an anxious, tired mouth, and eyes no longer old but young, and pained and vulnerable. Him. Her knuckles turned white, gripping the window tightly. He hovered in the air, returning her stare.

"Y-y-yes," she whispered unsteadily, breaking the long silence. As though in a dream, she backed away from the window, and he followed her in. She was startled to realize he was not as little as before. He looked like a boy coming close to turning into a young man. It felt surreal, magical, once again in this real world. "Why are you here?"

He extended his hand towards her; she clasped her hands behind her, not daring to touch him. Tears filled his eyes, running unchecked down his cheeks.

"I couldn't find the house."

She listened, stunned, as he told of seeing her from the tree house (long after she'd fled) angry and hurt, knowing that Neverland had not been enough for her. How he slowly lost interest in the island and its continuous cycle. She invaded his dreams, waking and sleeping. Against his will his anger gave way to sadness, a strange hollowness inside. He found her acorn button one day, shining like a fallen star, and kept it with him always. After that, he could not see her from the tree house. On the third day, with his not seeing her again, winter came early. Holed up in the house under the ground, listening to the howling wind, acorn button clenched in his fist, he had broken away from his world. He had not looked back at the rainbows and youth, but turned his face ahead to age and earth colors, his heart crying out a name. He searched long and hard, asking young girl after young girl if they had lost an acorn button, played among the ashes. Each one had laughed at him in their dream, some teasing and some jeering. He had nearly given into despair when he found the window tonight…found her.

He stepped hesitantly closer, and she could feel the faint glow surrounding them, warming her from the inside that had been so cold for seemingly forever.

"Why are you here?" she whispered again, a shudder running through her.

His gaze seemed to reach far into the depths of her young soul, its bright intensity almost frightening. And she had not the power to look away.

"Neverland found Peter Pan a Wendy. Yet he did not believe he needed one and did nothing when she left. It was almost too late when he realized he did need a Wendy. Against his wishes, or perhaps he had wished, she had become part of him and he a part of her. And no world could change that. So he searched for his Wendy."

Her cheeks were colored, eyes wide, breath quickening. Ohhhh…

"Forgive me? For hurting you, sending you away?" his voice was low and thick. "I am sorry." He looked so scared.

Tears trickled down her face. and the pieces of her broken heart she had put away in a drawer came out and slowly mended back together. She came to him slowly. Looked into his eyes for a long moment and reached for his hand. "Yes, I forgive you," a ghost of a whisper, her hand covering his and the button. A slow, joyful smile peeked out at him.

"I'm not leaving you."

The joy slipped behind confusion. She watched him interlace their fingers together. He had refused to grow up; he had chosen to remain a boy and have fun. She was now almost a young lady, barely a child. Each of them was not made for the other's world.

"But…"

"I love you."

Suddenly the room seemed filled with gold and blue sparkling lights. The fire in the fireplace jumped with excitement. And shooting stars danced outside.

For a moment everything spun and she thought she would faint. Then she grew aware of his arm steadying her, their hands entwined, and found his hazel eyes looking at her with that almost-forgotten softness. There was no jest in his face. And she felt she could fly.

"I love you, too."

The shadows, worry, grief, pain all washed away; he grinned, stars winking in his eyes, threw his head back, and crowed. She laughed. He brought their joint hands up to his lips in a gentle kiss.

"I am too old to return with you to Neverland, though," she said sadly, remembering their dilemma.

"Aye," he agreed, "but I am not too young to stay here with you."

Speechless, she stared at him. "You—"

"I'm starting to grow, you know. When I began to feel. Growing up will be an awfully big adventure…with you." He smiled, a bit cockily.

"Yet, here, will not you, we…" she trailed off.

"When you've lived in Neverland a long time, it never completely lets you go when you leave. We will be like a rainbow, reflecting many colors amidst this world. We will look up at the sky and dream."

She sighed quietly, stars in her eyes. "Together and always."

"Always," he echoed tenderly.

And then, their lips touched.

THE END