Love is not blind, it is an extra eye, which shows us what is most worthy of regard ~ J.M. Barrie

To live, would be an awful big adventure~ Peter Pan (2003)

Chapter I

I DON'T OWN OUTSIDERS. THIS IS JUST FOR FUN.

S*S

It was...odd. That was the only thought that could form in the whirling blur of her mind, as Wendy Allen carefully slide her legs out of the air-condition car seat, wide eyes squinting in the sunlight. The rest of her slight figure soon followed suit, coming to stand like a white bird in the dry, sheering heat of the Oklahoma summer. The fifteen year old gazed with an almost hypnotic fascination at the new house, small olive hands tucked tightly against the white skirt of her brown belted dress, in order to keep them from fidgeting.

She bit her lip, tugging the skin in timid reflection. Well, in all honesty, new might not have been the best way to describe the building in front of her, Wendy had to admit. Five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a study for Dad to work in, a stone patio and pool in the back...

If Wendy were to close her eyes, ignore the heat, and think only the happiest things...she could've really made herself believe that this looming building, and this picturesque, cookie-cutter row of lovely homes was really the Allens' old residence, that had stayed behind, back in Washington D.C., instead of this wealthy west side address in Tulsa City. Golly, and if she closed them tightly, until her eyelids were lit in flashes of red and orange- she could just see herself and her big sister Connie sunbathing in the backyard, while her brothers play fought in the front. Dad would be taking a brake from work, and watching them from the grill. And then there would be Mama, her overall's still stained with dirt from fretting over the rose garden, bring them lemonade...

Wendy stiffen, blinked. Then she sighed, her delicate shoulders slumping.

But the heat was impossible to ignore as it encompassed everything -hissing on the driveway, and turning the normally tamed waves of her black hair into a wild mess beneath her dedicated Mary Jane headband. And Mama wasn't here, and this house would never feel her presence, or know her touch. And that alone made this house as different from home as humanly possible -more so than if a giant hand had taken the thing and placed it on the blue side of the moon.

Nevertheless, there were still some things inline with her daydream...namely her brothers. Sam and Eric had been the first of the family out of the car, laughing and chasing each other across the immaculate lawn with the obvious glee of ten year old twins, mindless of anything but each other, and getting under the feet of the poor moving men trying to bring their furniture into the house.

"Boys...boys!" Wendy squeaked out as they somehow manged to nearly trip the man carrying Mama's favorite reading chair...which nearly crushed them. Moving before she even realized what she was doing Wendy had both boys by the hand with each of her own, yanking them to her side.

"I'm really sorry, sir," she tried to apologized to the men, but they waved her off with a wry smile.

"Nothin' we haven't seen 'fore Miss," one said drily.

But even with that, Wendy tugged the twins a little ways away, towards the middle of the green lawn. She bent forward until her hands rested on her knees, gaze leveled with theirs, the familiarity of the position comforting her. At least that, this, was the same. "Can you please help bring your stuff up to your room for me?"

"Ah, do we have to Wendy?" Sam groaned to her, pouting in the way that he did when he wanted his way. Eric copied his posture. Sam was the leader out of the boys, where he went, Eric would go. That was how it was. The were cute little boys, sharing many traits with her -small frames, round faces,and dark waves over smooth olive skin. Button noses and lively eyebrows. And Mama's robin egg blue eyes. "Course, the boys' eyes had little evil glints in them that hers and Mama's never had. Ones that always meant trouble.

Wendy had gotten good at handling trouble. Specifically these two. She raised her eyebrows and looked away, pretending to think.

"Well," she began slowly, pushing a frizzy lock behind her ear. "-if you get your stuff out before me and Connie do, you'll have first pick of the bedrooms you want...and Con's been talking about taking two for her closet space, so unless your happy sleeping with a bunch of perfumed minidresses and glamor magazines until she moves out for collage, I would pretend my name was Barry Allen, and run."

By the time she had mentioned perfume, both of the twins had turned a sickly shade of greenish-white. Without a word, they bolted for their own little piles of boxes with sloppy names written across them. Relaxing, she then considered her own advice, and hurried to get the boxes with her own name on them.

Just as she was leaning down to pick up the nearest one, their was a snort behind and a wide, comforting hand on her head, messing up her hair even more.

"I see you got the Lost Boys well in hand, Wen," Dad murmured to her, softly like fallen snow, the same color as the grey that had spiked his dark hair last year. Dad always seemed to speak softly nowadays, his brown gaze of bleeding earth to far away for Wendy or any of her siblings to touch. She forced a smile, and let his arm wrap more fully around her, closing her eyes at the kiss dropped to her forehead.

"Like always Daddy," she answered.

"I know moving was hard on all of you. It's hard on me too...leaving. But this will be a new start for us, Wen, I promise." Here, Connie was just walking by, a taller, younger version of Mama with curlier hair. She had Dad's height, and so was was powerless from being wrapped in his other arm. "You and Connie and the boys...you'll have a chance to be kids again."

Wendy knew that was important to him, so she didn't say anything. Connie's gaze flickered away, mouth twitched up and fingers curled into her green minidress before relaxing. The boys could be kids again, they were young enough. But whatever childhood the Allen girls ever had left to them died the moment Mama's Doctor came out, and the look on his face had destroyed what hope they had for her. After seeing what they had in the following short months...Wendy doubted they could ever be kids again. Teenagers, maybe. But not kids.

S*S

It wasn't fifteen minutes after the Allens begun bringing their stuff into the house that they got their first visitors from the neighbors, people whose faces Wendy had only ever seen on Christmas and birthday cards, near mythical figures from her childhood, like the tooth-fairy. Still, that was enough for her to recognized the Valances'. How could she not, when they were the ones to help Dad move out here. Even help set up the paper work for his dental practice.

Mr. Valance was in front, leading his wife and daughter. He was a slender, almost graceful man, with bright green eyes behind thin rim glasses. He looked both weathered and intelligent, like a lawyer would be, Wendy supposed. But there was such a gentle, powerful sympathy to his face as he looked at her father, that Wendy felt her reservations bleed away.

"Frank...I'm glad to see you got here alright." Even Mr. Valance's voice was gentle, though both the hug and the handshake he gave Dad was strong and confidant, willing it into his old war buddy.

"I'm glad too Ed...always wanted to see the southwest...me and..." Dad trailed off, shoulders slumping.

"I'm sorry about Mary. She was one in a million."

Dad manage a grin. Almost. "She had to be, to put up with me...but here, enough, I want to you meet my girls."

Mr. Valance's eyebrows darted upward to his balding hairline, beaming with delight. "No...these fine ladies can't be little Connie and Wendy Allen."

Wendy felt her face heat up. It was odd to have a grow up you didn't really know be so happy to see you. Still, she managed a shy smile. "Hello sir."

Connie nodded, but her smile was a little cold. Wendy fought the urge to squirm. Really, the man was perfectly nice. No need to be rude.

"Hi yourself darlin'," Mr. Valance greeted her back. He chuckled a little. "The last time I saw you, you mother had you on her hip, and your brothers in her belly. Lord, time sure fly's...I had hair back then."

When the resulting laughter died down, Mr. Valance reached behind him and gestured his own daughter forward. She was a very pretty girl, red-headed like her own rather shy mother, with smooth lily-white skin and her father's eyes. She had a high forehead and a kind, welcoming smile...though oddly enough, it reminded her a little bit of Connie, like this girl was measuring something, or trying too.

"But come'ere, I want ya'll my daughter. Sherri, honey, this is my very good friend Frank."

"Hi, sir," Sherri greeted, eyes softer as they looked at Dad. Wendy decided she liked her.

"Hello hon," Dad returned.

"And this here are Frank's girls. Connie and Wendy. You and Wendy are the same age, so you'll be in the same grade when school starts back up. You'll help her out, show her around, won't ya dear?"

"Of course."

Dad grinned more fully this time, and nudged Wendy. "You hear that Wen, you'll already have a friend when school starts."

Connie snorted, and Wendy redden, she couldn't help it. She knew he didn't mean it that way, but for all the world Dad made it sound like she couldn't make her own friends. She wasn't a baby that needed playdates.

Still, maybe there was a silver-lining here, since the measuring look was gone from Sherri's face, replaced by knowing empathy. The taller girl smiled, for real this time, and Wendy smiled back.

"Do you want me to help move your stuff in Wendy?" Sherri asked politely. Translation -want to get out of here?

"Sure," Wendy replied. Translation -yes, thank you very much.

She felt a little guilty leaving Dad, but she was sure he could handle this, Mr. Valance seemed so kind. Plus, he and Dad served together in the Europe during the war. So if anybody besides her could understand Frank Allen, it was him.

So she regathered her share of her boxes, let Sherri pick her own, and made her way into the house.

S*S

The cool interior of the house only added to Wendy's feeling of oddness; the white walls, glass circular window above the door, and winding staircase leading to the second floor eerily reminding her of home. If there was W.M.A. carved into the top wooded stair, she would officially declare herself in the Twilight Zone.

The boys were in their own room -it had never occurred to them not to share one- fighting over who would get the top of their bunk bed. Wendy snorted in fond amusement, and Sherri allowed herself a wider smile. Walking into the next bedroom over, Wendy beamed to see that her bed was already in place, white and pink comforter shinning softly in the light. But her favorite part had to be the cushioned window-seat; outside of which grew a large oak, it branches strong and wide enough for two people to sit on.

It wasn't the biggest room in the house...but it was perfect for her. Maybe this won't be a bad home.

"Wow. I see you like books," Sherri commented from behind her. Turning, Wendy found the other girl had open one of the boxes she had carried it, filled to the brim with the library Wendy had transported across the U.S. of A.

She blushed, and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, and that's only the one box. I've got more in the others."

"No kiddin'?" Sherri asked, looking interested.

"Nope. I don't think I could go a day without reading something."

Sherri's gave a knowing bob of her head, the green of her eyes coming alive with a more personal, human light. It was like a door opening. "I hear ya. I was like that myself a few years ago. Don't read like that anymore though...don't have the time I use to."

Tipping her head down, so that her dark red hair fell over her face like a curtain, Sherri looked thoughtful as she examined a few of the covers. "There's an awful lot of fairy tales here."

Wendy lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Those are my favorite's. My parents' too."

Sherri arched a perfectly thin eyebrow, and peered at the smaller girl. "That wouldn't be why they named ya Wendy now, would it?"

To prove her point, the redhead lifted a dog ear, well loved copy of Peter Pan out of its box, tapping a white finger to its cover.

Wendy's heart gave a sweet sort of tug at the sight of it, and smiled lovingly as Sherri handed it over. It was a beautiful edition, with delicate golden wording across it's front.

"Yeah it is, Peter Pan my Dad's absolute favorite story. When the Disney picture came out, I think we saw it eleven times."

Sherri smiled genuinely. "That's real sweet. And Wendy's such a pretty name."

"Thanks," Wendy returned, flattered, as she put Peter Pan in a place of honor on her bed. "...Sherri's nice too."

She tried to keep her face straight as she said this. Truthfully, she didn't think Sherri was a very pretty name. The sound of it was too shaped for her taste, tasting like alcohol as it left the mouth.

Thankfully, Sherri made a face as well. "Oh right, my name's Cherry. I hate the name Sherri. Only my parents' call that."

Wendy lifted her own eyebrows now. "Cherry?"

"Yeah, cause of my hair."

Cherry held a few glistening strands up, as though Wendy needed help identifying it's ruby red color. She couldn't help a flicker of envy from bubbling up within her. She'd always wanted to be a red head, ever since she was eight and read Anne of Green Gables.

"That's a lot cuter," Wendy admitted. Cherry grinned, long suffering. "I know that, but my folks won't let me change it."

They exploded into giggles here, and after that, conversation flowed easily between them. Wendy talked about her favorite fairy tales as a kid, and then her hope of writing some of her own when she was older. Cherry talked about her boyfriend, Bob Sheldon, and life in Tulsa, and hope of getting an English degree at university, and marrying Bob someday.

"You ever had a boyfriend, Wendy?"

She giggled again, cheeks pink. "No."

Cherry shock her head in disbelief. "Come on, a pretty girl like you?"

"I could barely talk to boys back home."

Cherry clucked her tongue, and eyed her shrewdly. "Well that somthin' we'll just have to fix, won't we?"

"You can try. Connie has for ages." With very little luck in that regard, Wendy had to admit. "She thinks it because I read so much -I scare the boys away."

Cherry huffed, and tossed her hair. "Now that just nonsense. You seem like the quiet type. I think you just need some..." she seemed to fish her brain around for the word. "Introduction."

Wendy cocked her head, her eyes blinking like a owl. "Introduction?"

"Of course," Cherry told her brightly, with an air of sophistication she normally attributed to Connie. "Introductions go a long way here in Tulsa, Wendy. When ya know the right people, all kinda doors can open to you. Tell ya what, spent the summer with Bob and me. Will introduce you to our friends. That way, you'll have some standing when you go to school. That sound good to you?"

Sound good? Wendy had been effectively friendless long before her family had up and moved. As much as she loved her family...it would be nice to be with people who enjoyed her company rather than relied on it.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'd like that."

Cherry was good to her word. That last month of summer was one of the most fun she'd had in her life. Not a week had past after the Allen's arrived before the redhead was introducing Wendy to her circle of friends.

First of all there was "Bob" Robert Sheldon. Cherry's boyfriend. When Cherry introduced them, Wendy's eyes had swept over his tall, lean form, jet black hair and charming grin with a little bit of awe. He looked very nice besides Cherry -strong and tan and just a hint reckless. Still, Wendy didn't think she would like him as a boyfriend for herself...he was too tall for her petite height -it would look ridiculous if a boy that tall tried to kiss her. He was just a little too...perfect.

Then there was Marcia Brown -Wendy's absolute favorite besides Cherry. Petite like herself, Marcia was pretty in a modest way, with dark shinnying eyes and brown hair that curled around her cheeks. But what really made her stand out was her humor. Marcia was one of the funniest girls Wendy had ever meet, and she seemed to have made it her personal mission to figure out a person's funny bone and tickle it mercilessly. Wendy would giggle for ages after hanging out with Marcia.

Then came the others. Randy Anderson and David Holland were the biggest presences besides Bob, which made sense seeing that they were basically his right and left hand. Randy was taller even than Bob, with crazy brown curls and a matching wild streak, though his was tempered somewhat. David -smaller and towheaded- was his younger stepbrother, and two were closer than most siblings could probably claim to be. Being a big brother had become a became a part of Randy's personality to the point where often times he played the role to all of them with out knowing it. Wendy had the sense Bob liked that, even as it annoyed him.

Brown haired Peter Martin and his auburn haired girlfriend, Peggy Stephens, were the quiet people, like Wendy, and at first, she had hung near them. There was comfort there, familiarity, and they had some great talks about what was better, Tolkien or Dickens. On top of that, Peggy was an artist, she loved to draw and did quite well. But unless you were a friend, she would never do it for you.

Of course, Wendy didn't like everybody in their little group. Lillian Wood was the exception. With dark brown hair and icy eyes, Lillian's father made more money than most of them, and for that reason seem to look down her perfectly thin nose at most of the group -Cherry and Bob begin the exception, as their family had an equal income. Really, Wendy's dislike was formed when the girl was rude to Marcia of all people, just because Marcia had tried to make her laugh. No even her own boyfriend was safe form her contempt, though thankfully, David remained oblivious in his near worship of her.

Wendy could see how much this got to Randy, bugged him as it could only bug an older sibling. Especially when Lillian's eyes swept over to James "call me Jack" Pescare. Green eyed, tan skin, lean and powerful from his time on the football field, Jack always had an edge of relaxed aggression and slinky sort of charm. It was a strange combination. He also had a mean streak, so Wendy could see why Lillian was drawn to him. Bob seem to like him around for the challenged Jack provided to his own leadership of the group, even though Cherry's lips would thin when he said something particularly...unpleasant. Cracks against Negros were his favorite.

Whatever else could be said about him, Jack was not a follower. Bob didn't have a lot of friends, or maybe even people in his life who would push against him. Wendy just tried to stay out of it all. Specially since Jack couldn't seem to get that she didn't like being around him. And so resolved to follow her around until she did (which wasn't working, by the way.) Wendy couldn't see herself liking him -not when she had the sense that to Jack, you were only a person worthy of respect if he felt you had something to offer, something of value. Mama's family had a bad history with people like that, during the war.

Still, altogether, driving around all over Tulsa in Bab's blue mustang was a thrilling change from being at home. Connie would sometimes join them, and the haughtily prettiness of the eighteen year old served to keep Jack's attention off of her, and annoy Lillian, so that was a win-win if Wendy every saw one.

Besides...when the day was over, and the girls had to go home, and the twins came back from exploring the woods behind their house...the sudden shift to silence was jarring after a day of noise. Dinner would be quiet, and afterwards the family would drift off. Dad to his study, the twins to the patio, Connie to her room, telephone going softly all night long. As for Wendy, she would clamor out to sit in the nook of her oak tree, back against the bark as tried to lose herself in another story. Or get started writing her own.

But more often than not, Wendy just ended up leaning back against the trunk, eyes wandering up to visit the stars kindled in the night-sky, while her mind drifted back, far away to when the nights weren't so horrible silent. Nights use to belong to Mama, who would sing soft, cooing tunes from her own childhood, in strange languages she refused to teach them.

"You don't need to understand the words to hear the song," she would tell them. "You just need to feel the szeretet. The love."

Love.

Szeretet.

That was the one foreign word Mama ever taught them. To Mary Allen, it was the most important word in existent.

The nightingale, she went away, she came back in the spring time, she has learned nothing new, she is still singing her old beloved songs.

Suddenly angry, Wendy closed her book of Mendelssohn's songs with a snap, before clamoring back inside. She had the sudden urge to throw it against the wall. But she didn't. She couldn't run the risk of disturbing anybody in the house -specifically Dad and the boys, who were asleep. Instead, she would burrow herself in the covers of her, hands over her ears to try and keep out the silence.

Most people would think she was crazy. Most people would say silence had no sound to keep out. They were wrong.

Wendy knew that silence was the worst sound in all the world.

Reviews make me happy, so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner. So what do you think, this is my first Outsiders fanfic, and the first fic I've written that going to be based on a developing romance. So that's new ground. Johnny and a few of the other boys in the gang will be make their first appearance in the next chapter.