sultal's note: Well instead of make my own video like the last chapter, YOU HAVE to watch the YouTube video that inspired this.

Google search You'll Be In My Heart- Peter Pan/ Wendy and you are going to want to pick the 1:27 version of the song (where the female starts singing and then Phil Collins takes it to the hoop). It is slower, simpler...and it is adorable. Video artist: alwyssmi7


Lullaby Three: You'll Be in My Heart

Peter sighed. He was awake, but his body was still asleep. One by one his senses peeled from the sleep rhythm, gradually gaining awareness. Resisting, Peter turned his head, half realizing and half enjoying the soft fingers skimming his hair. He turned again, relaxing against the warm body supporting his head. He breathed, settling with the pace of the stomach moving against his ear.

I think Wendy was right. Peter thought, curling his fingers in and out. He shifted, feeling the hand on his head. The hand covered his gouged temple. Peter waited for his senses to feel and his brain to interpret. Captain Hook's mark was sore, but only a little.

Yes. Wendy was right. Peter thought again. The lullaby helped. But… Sleepily, Peter opened his eyes…did Wendy know she'd made a mistake? Lullabies weren't for night. Lullabies were for…

Peter stopped. He gazed at his free hand. He moved his fingers. Incomprehensively, he stared at the blue fabric, rolling over his fingertips.

"Wendy?!"

Peter's heart leapt higher than he could ever fly. Peter tried to follow, but the reactive movement surprised his poor, injured head. Wrenched out of sleep, unidentifiable frights and thrills bubbled where his heart use to be.

Then, Peter noticed Wendy.

Still alarmed by her proximity, Peter was nevertheless intrigued. Head cocked, he reached a finger to her cheek.

He traced the cut. He traced it all the way from the edge of her ear to the corner of her eye. It was dried. But she hadn't cleaned the blood. Except…

Peter squinted. Except for watery lines trickled into the red. Peter contemplated. Then, suddenly understanding, he touched his head.

"You cried yourself to sleep."

Wendy's brow knit as if in silent response. Cringing, Peter lifted his head. Wendy was crunched in a corner, barricaded by his body. Her bearing was downcast and her visage was worn. Peter peered closer. Gently, he touched her lid.

She flinched. Her eyes were moving. Her shoulders caved.

Wendy was having a nightmare.

"Wendy…" Peter lifted an arm. He tried to prop on one elbow but immediately buckled, weakened by yesterday's battle.

Helpless, Peter lay. Wendy's warmth was comforting, but Peter wished a hundred times he could replace her nightmare with a wonderful dream.

"And I know what it would be…" Peter murmured, rubbing a hand across Wendy's cheek. He smiled, liberally letting his fingers play with her hair. "…I would give you a dream about stars. I would give you the power to fly without pixie dust. And you would soar with the stars, whenever you pleased. Then back down you would float, little Wendy…dancing with the wind…sparkling with star dust…"

Peter sighed. Earnestly, he wished Wendy's nightmare away.

"If only I could help. If only I could – "

Peter paused.

He had an idea.

But Peter, unlike Wendy, did not consider it very clever.

Because, even though dawn was near…

….Peter did not think he could sing a lullaby to ease Wendy from her sleep.

He could not sing. Not like Wendy. She sang like a bird.

…but…he had never…tried.

Peter considered. He looked at Wendy. Shyly, he looked away, even though she was asleep.

He couldn't! She would laugh!

But…she was hurting. And…she had sung a lullaby for the boys. And a special, beautiful lullaby, just for him.

Tentatively, Peter glanced at Wendy again.

Well…there was one song…a song the fairies sang to greet him in Neverland…too long ago to remember.

Peter hesitated. Then, very cautiously, he stammered and sung.

"C...come stop your crying….it will…be all right."

Peter stopped. Fear clamped his throat. Lifting a hand, he rubbed Wendy's cheek.

Instantly, like magic, he felt stronger.

"Just take my hand…" Peter continued. Obediently, he took Wendy's hand, still placed on his head. "….hold it tight."

Wendy's stirred. Peter grew angry. He tried harder, speaking directly to the nightmare tormenting his girl.

"I will protect you, from all around you…."

He caressed Wendy's lips.

"I will be here. Don't you cry."

His fingers rest on the magical spot.

And then, Peter smiled.

"For one so small!" he laughed, remembering a thousand adventures where Wendy, little Wendy, surprised him. "You seem so strong!"

Peter rose. Pushing away the pain, he gathered Wendy against his chest. "My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm."

Peter bowed his head. Nose in her ribbon, he stroked Wendy's hair.

This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here…"

Standing, Peter ducked from his lair. He cradled Wendy as the nightmare passed.

"…don't you cry."

Peter flew, topping two, three, and four, flights at a time. He raced upwards, beating the dawn to the highest branch of Hangman's Tree.

But despite his energy and despite his hope, Peter let his voice fall gently.

"'Cause you'll be in my heart…no matter what they say…."

Peter filled his face with the morning sun.

"You'll be here in my heart…"

Peter sighed. Soul mended by his little seamstress, Peter smiled down at her.

Wendy smiled back.

"always."

Peter grinned.

"And this…" Peter said, indicating to the dawn. He wrapped himself in Wendy's hug. "…is when lullabies are supposed to be sung. Not for night. But for day. Little, kind, brave Wendy of mine."

So...

Who was right, Wendy or Peter you say?

Should lullabies be sung for night or day?

Well, I would pick either the former or latter.

Because in the end, does it really much matter?

Whether you seize the day, or brave the night,

A lullaby will strengthen every fight.

The End


sultal's note: Okay fluff people - your request for romance was heard, accepted. Annnd cheesy poem with a moral to end? Yes. I totally went there.

keep writing.