This is a Too Old for Neverland story.
Summary: Words skirt the edges of the Fae.
Fae don’t have names, true or otherwise. They’re immortals, ancient and unending, existing outside of Time– too vast to be bound by human words.
Peter, is not.
Not what, Wendy isn’t sure, but names stick to him in a way unnatural for Fae. He’s no more Peter Pan than he’s Puck, or Tam Lin, or Hob, and he’s not pulled to follow her the way Lost children are…
But when she calls his name — the one she gave him when her own bargain was struck — he hesitates in the way no true Fae has ever done.
But he doesn’t answer.