Prologue: We Begin at The End

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A/N: Remember that this is purely based on the 1953 Cartoon. I do not own the original stories or characters.

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           We begin our story where we last left off. Wendy and her brothers were safely returned home to their cozy beds in their cozy house in London. Peter Pan returned to Neverland. Back to pirates, back to the Lost Boys and pixie dust and wonderful games and adventure. Though his heart felt heavy for the moment being, Peter knew he would soon forget of the Darling Siblings. After all, this all happened before and it will all happen again. It was the way of the world. Children came and went from Neverland, leaving Peter feeling slightly jealous of the courage the children gathered to go and grow up, unlike himself. And though the boy was used to friends leaving, there had been something different about the Darlings. Especially that young girl, Wendy. If you asked me, I'd say he felt something for her, but of course, I am just a humble narrator not allowed to have opinions. It didn't matter anyhow, for Peter possessed no desire to dwell on any jealous or new feelings. He had Neverland. A place where there was the comfort of everything always being and staying the same.

    Unfortunately, London and the rest of the world were very fast-moving. Things were always changing and people were always growing up. As years passed, the need for stories and Peter Pan disappeared. Reluctantly, Wendy moved from the nursery to a room across the hall. It was nice for a girl coming of age, but empty. And the Darling house seemed a little less cozy. John was sent off to a London boarding school and Michael as well. John, of course, became quickly acclimated to the intellectual atmosphere and had no time for playing games at all. Michael, the poor soft lad, being only eight years old, had his imagination forced from him by headmasters and professors urging him to "Get his head out of the clouds". Eventually, they all agreed that Peter had only been the heroine of their bedtime stories and Neverland a wonderful dream. For a while though, Wendy wished with all of her heart that Peter would appear at her window one night if only to wave and remind her that he was a true being. But that never occurred, and Wendy shut the idea away like toys in a dusty toy box.

     With no one left to believe, the magic of Neverland began to fade. Dark clouds arose over the usually clear horizon, the sea waters became choppy and dangerous, plants and flowers died, animals went rabid. The land was sick. Peter and his men holed themselves up in their newly rebuilt hideout, hoping to shield themselves from the plague taking over the island. But the darkness got ahold of Peter, draining his magic. Peter immediately knew his worst nightmare had come true. He felt the change. Peter Pan was getting older. In a fit of rage and fear, he yelled out into the heavens, cursing the dying land. That was the last anyone heard of Pan after he flew into unmarked territory, hiding himself from the rest of the world, ashamed, afraid, and alone. The Lost Boys scoured the island for him, and even that old crook, Captain Hook, couldn't help but scratch his head and wonder where the scamp was. It went on like this for years. Hope was gone. Neverland would be lost forever.

    That was until the shower. It started with a small drop of water falling from the stormy sky. The drop had a golden glint to it. A sparkle. It fell and landed on a dry leaf, and the leaf soaked it up faster than the desert. The veins of the leaf pulsed with life. Thunder boomed and a mass of these golden drops fell to the Neverland earth, reviving it. The Lost boys ran outside, whooping with joy, beating their chests. The Pirates danced and sang their pirate songs as rum spilled from their overflowing wooden mugs. And Peter Pan stepped out into the new sunlight as the rain continued to fall. The droplets fell onto his wide-eyed expression, soaking his hair, dripping down his arms and seeping into his clothes. The water was cool and calm feeling. Peter didn't resist sticking out his tongue, tasting the rain. The boy found that this rain was salty and bitter. It was not rain at all. It was tears. The tears of someone who believed so strongly, the entirety of Neverland's magic had been replenished. Peter was Pan once again. This may sound like the end of yet another story, but my dear Reader, this is only just the beginning.

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