A/N: I'm playing fast and loose with canon in this fic, and some things will not be the same as they were in the show. I've had this idea for a while now, and I hope you enjoy this new story. I'd love to hear what you think of it so far in the comments.

"Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness."

-Peter Pan, by JM Barrie

Baelfire has never lost the simple faith that a child has in an adult, despite the numerous opportunities he's had to do so. It is what convinced him that there was still good in his papa, that his papa could change, right up until the moment he was suspended over a portal and the man chose the dagger over his own son.

He still trusted Wendy's parents, even after being abandoned by his Papa and left to fend for himself on the streets of London. Still trusted Hook, enough to tell him things about his childhood that he has never told anyone else, before learning who the pirate really is.

It is what attracted the Shadow to him in the first place, in Victorian London, where the shadow had been attracted to Wendy and her brothers because of their innocence.

Never lost it, that is, until this moment, packing the small amount of things Baelfire can count as his own into a narrow rucksack while Starkey, one of Hook's men, watches in the doorway of the cabin that Hook gave him while aboard.

He might miss this cabin. It is larger than the room he had with Papa, back home, though not quite so large as the one he shared with the Darlings, and the ceiling is lower than he might like, but not so low that he might bang his head on it. The bed is soft, and the constant rocking of the ship lulls him to sleep each night. There's a porthole that looks out into the water, and Bae amuses himself, when he can't fall asleep, by watching the fish swim by.

Once he even fancies he sees a mermaid.

Starkey clears his throat from the doorway, signaling that it is time, and Bae turns to him, giving him a glare that might rival his Papa's, when he's angry. He figures he shouldn't feel too guilty about it; the man is a pirate, after all, and Bae is no longer under the delusion that pirates should be trusted.

Giving the cabin one last cursory glance, Bae heaves the rucksack over his shoulder with ease. It feels too light, and he remembers that when he lived with his Papa, he had so many things he would not have been able to fit them in this bag.

And here he is, thinking that the scant amount of contents will help him survive on a potentially hostile island, alone and cut off from the rest of the world.

His Papa was right; he was mad to jump through that portal, mad to think that any world could be kinder than their own.

Starkey sighs this time, muttering under his breath, "Captain's orders, Starkey, have to obey Cap'n's orders," and Bae decides that he has finally overstayed his welcome.

And that is how he ends up standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger in the dead of night, pondering how he could be such a fool to trust a pirate in the first place. He should have known better.

He has spent his whole life listening to his Papa condemn pirates as the worst scum to walk the face of all the worlds, after what happened to his mother. Even if everything else his Papa told him may be rubbish, he should have listened to that.

"Eager to go, I see," Hook's voice cuts through his thoughts as he walks up onto the deck, and Baelfire hefts his bag higher on his shoulder, as if he is afraid Hook...the pirate...might take it from him. Even if everything in the bag belongs to said pirate.

He does not turn around, does not face the pirate captain. He doesn't think he can.

A gust of wind floods in from the ocean, spraying him lightly in seawater, as he is standing to close to the ship's rail. Baelfire wipes at his eyes, pretending it is only the seawater he is wiping away.

He isn't naive enough to think this fools the pirate, and stares at the black seawater sloshing against the sides of the Jolly Roger as if it, personally, is to blame for his current situation.

It is slightly disconcerting that the pirate is willing to let him off the ship in the middle of the night, without even the moon to guide Baelfire once he reaches the island. Two of his pirates will escort Bae on the little dinghy, but he is on his own once he reaches land. Bae would almost be suspicious if he had not insisted on this very thing, on leaving as soon as possible.

He doesn't think he could spend the night in such a close vacinity with the pirate without killing him, and Bae won't kill him. Can't.

He won't become like them. His Papa and this pirate, and probably his mother as well, if she condoned it enough to run off with a pirate, as Hook claims. His mother.

That is the worst of all this, Bae thinks. That, after years of his papa telling him that his mother was a beautiful, lovely woman who only wanted the best for her son, that she had been brutally murdered by wicked pirates, he must find out the truth from a pirate. That she ran off with a scoundrel and thief and left Baelfire and his papa forever.

He knows that Hook told him she wanted to come back for him, that the only reason she left was Rumpelstiltskin, not Baelfire, but he doesn't believe the pirate's desperate, hurried words. He doesn't think he can, even if Hook tries to keep him aboard this ship.

The very fact that he is letting Baelfire go, only attempting to convince him to stay with defeated words that he must know cannot change Bae's mind, only helps to convince him that Hook doesn't really want this.

Suddenly the whole time he has been with the pirate isn't the happy memory that Baelfire thought it was before he found out the truth. Because he can't help but wonder if Hook even cared about him all this time, or if he just wants to honor his memory of Milah.

Honor. From a pirate.

"Just drop me off anywhere," Baelfire mutters between gritted teeth, staring out the waves as if they will rescue him from this ship and send him back to the Darlings by his mere willpower alone. He wishes they could. What use is magic if it can never be used for anything helpful?

He doesn't believe that it is possible to get back to the Darlings from this world, whatever he boasts to the pirate. He can't believe it, and he knows that Hook doesn't really, either. And some part of him, however small at this point, still believes the pirate.

Starkey mentioned something about the Indians being able to help with that sort of thing, when Baelfire asked, but the boy gets the impression that the bosun doesn't know the half of what he talks about, over a bottle of rum. Still, it gives Baelfire a small flicker of hope, and, he resolves, if he can get to them, perhaps he can find help. Of course, he will have to get past the shadow, and those boys who came looking for him earlier.

"Oh, you really think you can survive on your own?" Despite the harshness of the words themselves, Bae can hear a concern in Hook's voice that he does not want to consider.

"I've never been given the choice," he answers, and the bitterness that seeps into his voice reminds him eerily of his Papa, whenever someone might call him a coward. Before the dagger, of course.

He thinks now that that man, the man before the dagger, was the strongest man he's ever known, and if he could really have one wish, it would be for that man to still be alive.

He died a long time ago, though, and now, here Bae is.

"Well, you have one now," and the pirate's voice is pleading, desperately begging Bae to change his mind. The boy can't help but equate this image with that of his father, kneeling before the green portal and pleading with Baelfire to stay, promising to change so long as they stay in the land of magic.

Fitting that Baelfire abandoned one land of magic for another, one father for the next.

No, he tries to convince himself. Hook was never a father.

The ship rocks lightly under his feet, and Bae slowly turns around, awarding the pirate with an unnerving stare.

Does he really? Have a choice? he wants to ask, but something makes the boy bite his tongue.

Instead, he stares at the pirate, assessing him, and Bae is annoyed to find that he can't make sense of what he sees. Hook seems genuinely sorry, but Baelfire cannot rationalize that with the man his Papa spent a lifetime villanizing, even if Hook did not kill Milah directly.

Even if the man who really killed her was his papa. He knows he shouldn't believe that, should dismiss it immediately as another of the pirate's many lies, but he can't. He can't because Baelfire has seen his Papa kill impulsively, out of anger, and he knows that, if the rest of Hook's story is true, this part must be, as well.

That doesn't mean he wants to spend another moment in this man's presence. It is still his fault.

Baelfire's mother is still dead.

"Anywhere will do." He turns away again, before the pitying eyes of the pirate see past his charade and know how terrified he is of being left alone again.

"I get your angry," the pirate tries once more, moving behind him, and Bae has to force himself to stand absolutely still, to not turn around. "But it doesn't have to end like this. This ship can be your home. Your family."

Out of the corner of his eye, Bae can see Hook smiling hopefully at the idea.

Indeed, his voice is so full of excitement at the mere possibility, that Baelfire thinks he is going to be sick, and has to struggle not to give a scoffing laugh at the pirate's suggestion. Family. A family of angry, drunk pirates who resent his presence and their captain, who lied to Baelfire once and will probably do so again, as he wishes.

He had a family, once. He will never have one again.

"Just say the word," the pirate tries again. Say the word.

Like magic.

Perhaps he can see the hesitation in Bae's eyes, because the pirate says, softer now, "It's not too late to start over. I can change, Bae. For you." He's desperate now, leaning forward as if he thinks this argument will make a difference in the final outcome.

And perhaps it might have, before, when Baelfire was an innocent young boy who still thought adults could be trusted. But Bae's spent too many years listening to the same words from his papa, and he knows what lies those words really are, even if Hook believes them now. He harbors no doubts that, once upon a time, his papa also believed such words.

"You say that, but I know you'll never change. Because all you care about...is yourself," Bae hissed out, trying not to sound so angry but failing completely. Just like my Papa, and his precious dagger, he thinks.

Letting Bae fall through that portal alone so that he can keep it. Abandoning Bae for his own power.

Bae stares at the pirate, unable to say those words, and turns away, because, as he looks into the pirate's eyes he sees his Papa, eyes hardening before a kill that Bae knows he cannot stop his papa from committing, no matter how much he pleads.

He can't help but wonder, if this pirate had never stolen away his mother, if his Papa would never have turned to magic. If he could have had the life he was supposed to have, with a family. A family, like the Darlings. And he can't help but resent the pirate for that, even if it is only a furtive wish.

As he turns his back and walks away, hanging his head, he can hear Hook letting out a deep, regretful sigh.

"Thank you," the pirate says, and Bae turns, eyes questioning. "For reminding me what I'm all about." Bae stares, uncomprehending. "Killing your father."

Baelfire can't keep the shocked look of betrayal from his face in those first few moments, as he takes an involuntary step away from the pirate, his back colliding with the rail of the ship. He knows he has nowhere to go until the pirates prepare that dinghy, and the cool wooden rail against his back does not comfort him.

He told Hook about the dagger. Told him that it was the only thing able to kill the Dark One.

If there was a doubt in his mind that Hook truly cared about Baelfire, it is gone now.

The boys that work for Him appear then, the ones that Hook hid him from before, when he still wanted Bae, climbing over the rail behind the boy. They are silent, and Bae might not have noticed them if he hadn't been listening all along for their approach. Somehow, he knew this would happen, even if he has tried to deny it.

"You're not letting me go," Bae says, because something needs to be said, no matter how obvious the words are. Even though he knows this was always a possibility, because the moment he set foot on the island He would have likely found him anyway, he can't keep the shocked hurt from his own voice.

"How would that help me?" Hook asks, voice loud and mocking, and Bae flinches at the sound, flinches at the firm realization that he should have never trusted this man.

The words that wouldn't come a moment ago slip out now, because Bae can't hold them back, and, if this is to be the last time he sees the pirate, he wants Hook to remember them. "You hated my father so much, you didn't even realize you were just like him!"

He doesn't realize he is shouting until he can feel a hand on his chest, can feel the vibrations humming beneath that hand as it gently pulls him away.

He hates the way his voice cracks on those final words, betraying him just as surely as Hook has now.

He does not get to see the pirate's reaction to his words before the boys drag him over the side of the ship, and so he can only hope that, just perhaps, the words might sink in.

The feeling that inhabited his stomach when his Papa let go of his hand over that portal is back now, twisting his stomach in horrible knots, and he finds that he can't fight the boys. Perhaps he doesn't want to. What is the use anymore?

He is broken.

"You have the boy," he can hear the pirate say as they drag him off the ship, voice indifferent. "He will be pleased?"

Was it all a trick? Had the pirate always intended on handing him over to them?

The lost boy does not respond, simply climbs down into the little dinghy beside Baelfire in silence.

Perhaps it is just Baelfire's imagination, but the Lost Boy seems...disappointed with Hook. Baelfire can't imagine why. He has what he wants.

Someone else Bae's hands together behind his back, shoves him onto his bottom. He goes down without a fight, staring up at the rail of the Jolly Roger and daring Hook to lean over the side and see what he has done.

It is not the first time someone has broken a deal with Baelfire. Indeed, the memory of his father's betrayal, his shining, terrified face as he let go of Bae, let him fall through that portal alone, has not yet left the forefront of his mind.

And with this new, fresh betrayal while the wounds of the last one have not yet healed, Bae thinks he will never trust again.

His last sight of the pirate is as one of the lost boy's throws a burlap bag over his head, and the pirate leans over the side of his precious ship to watch. His eyes are almost sad, begging for forgiveness, but Bae finds that he cannot give it.

The pirate stands there silently, as if waiting for Bae to say something else, to beg to come back. To beg to be rescued from these boys to live with Hook. Perhaps he might believe that Hook would fight for him, if Baelfire would give him some sign.

As if he would, now.

Lifting his chin, Bae lets the blindfold fall over his head and stays silent, resigned to his new fate, whatever it might entail.

At least whomever has taken him now cannot be half so bad as the pirate who killed his mother and destroyed his Papa in the first place. Though, he cannot even be sure on that point. The Dark One has many enemies.

Bae does not realize that the bag he had over his shoulder falls to the deck of the Jolly Roger before he is taken away.

The boat ride to the shoreline is silent, and Baelfire finds himself grateful for the silence, for the few moments he has to adjust before whatever happens next.

He is scared, though he tries to hide it behind his defiant stance, and then behind his resignation. Scared of whatever these boys are, whomever it is that they work for that wants Baelfire so badly.

The dinghy slams against solid ground, the grating sound ripping through Bae's ears as someone jumps out to secure the line. Other than this, the beach is silent, and Baelfire wonders desperately if perhaps now he should fight back.

He doesn't think their shadow will allow him to, if it is around here somewhere, and he no longer has the matches the Darlings gave him to ward it off.

Then one of the boys is grabbing him by the collar, a greasy hand yanking him to his feet. His shoes scuff against the dinghy before he hears the splashes of the other Lost Boys hitting shallow water.

He cringes as he is tossed over the side of the dinghy, submerged to his thighs in cold, murky seawater. He can almost see it, through the bag over his head. At the very least, he can see the outline of it against solid ground.

The lost boys push him forward, not bothering to remove the burlap sack that blinds him, and Baelfire wonders what is so important that he cannot see it. The location of the beach? But it hadn't taken that long to reach it, and he had been able to see the beach from the Jolly Roger.

Unceremoniously, one of the Lost Boys, the only one whom Baelfire has ever heard speak, rips the cloth off his head, and Baelfire gasps at the sudden change in the air. It is the first thing he notices, even before taking in his surroundings. Where before it was stale and salty, it is now brittle and smells of dead fish and grass.

Baelfire wrinkles his nose at the stench, tries to bury his nose into his elbow, but the Lost Boys will have none of that.

Before he has the time to take in his surroundings, the Lost Boy is shoving him further up the beach, further from the water.

He debates trying to run before his eyes clear and he sees how foolish this would be; the entire beach is populated by these boys, all carrying weapons, where Baelfire is not. They are standing in a semi-circle around Baelfire, watching him with curious and not altogether unfriendly, eyes.

They are all of different ages, some of them so young that it makes Baelfire blink in surprise, having thought of these "Lost Boys," up until this moment, as something of a small army for Him, whoever He is.

They are all wearing what appears, Baelfire notices, to be clothing made from plants on the island, and he wonders if they are wild boys, and He is their god. Perhaps they intend to sacrifice Bae to Him.

That thought is not at all comforting.

Hook has spoken of Him only sparingly, and the crew are too terrified to do more than whisper in Bae's presence; evidently they think that the very mention of Him in front of one of the boys he seeks will bring his Lost Boys running.

They do not stop in their little march until Baelfire is practically on the other side of the beach from where the dinghy landed, standing before one of the older Lost Boys, a dark-skinned boy who stares down at Baelfire with a different expression than all the rest: one of distaste.

"Is it the boy? The one he wants?" the Lost Boy-Bae thinks he heard someone call him Felix-still holding the scruff of his collar demands, and someone grabs his chin, forcing it up into the cool night air so that all can get a better look at him.

There is a pause, during which Baelfire forgets to breathe. So, whomever they are, they are looking for someone. He can't think of anyone his Papa has managed to anger in a different world, though, and decides that maybe he is safe.

"No. No, it's not." Baelfire breathes a sigh of relief all the same, for he cannot help but believe they have some foul purpose for whomever it is they wish to find. Considering the lengths they went to in claiming Baelfire, that is...

"It's your lucky day, boy," the Lost Boy holding him smirks, and his foul breath smacks against Baelfire's face, unrelentingly. "You get to live." Baelfire pales.

Then Felix laughs, throwing Baelfire towards the group of boys behind him. "Put him with the rest." He tosses Bae towards three other Lost Boys, who grab him roughly and begin dragging him away.

Those are the words that decide Baelfire's fate, on the island that is Neverland. Those, and the words spoken by Hook, words of betrayal and anger.

He is under no delusions, now, that he will ever find a home. Not like the home he had with the Darlings.

That thought is cemented when he is marched past the group of boys and thrown into a bamboo cage at the edge of the beach, where the sand meets a dark, eerie forest that is not unlike the one where Bae's Papa let him fall through that portal.

Yet this one is far darker, and seems to have a presence all of its own that causes Baelfire to cringe when he stares at it too long. The darkness is tangible, climbing through the trees and beyond that to far off mountains. Baelfire can hear animals howling within that forest, can hear twigs snapping ominously from afar.

Looking away quickly, he finds that he is not alone in this cage.

There are two boys, both younger than he, quivering at the other end and clinging to each other, staring at Baelfire as if they think he is a threat.

The boys-his captors-slam shut the door to the cage, tying it secure with thin ropes, before muttering something to the guard and walking off to join the others around a roaring fire.

The cage is being guarded by only one Lost Boy, and not a very large one at that, and Bae thinks that if he were not shoved inside the bamboo prison he would have easily been able to overtake the boy, even with his hands bound, as they still are.

The boy does not meet his captors' eyes; he stares straight ahead, towards the beach, one hand clutching so tightly to a distinctly homemade spear that Baelfire can see his white knuckles, even in this darkness.

Baelfire sighs. Even if he could manage to trick the boy into freeing him, he doubts he would be able to get past an entire beach of Lost Boys. If he plans to escape, and he is not entirely sure, at this point, that he does, it must be at a more opportune time.

He leans towards his fellow prisoners, because, even in this darkness, he can see the shining dark liquid protruding from the taller of the boys' arm. He can't help but want to help, even with his hands bound as they are.

That instinct has been ingrained in him for so long now, since long before his Papa was the Dark One. Helping people has always been the one thing Baelfire does well, even if most of them refuse to accept his help on principle alone.

The boy flinches back, fixing him with a cold glare. "Don' touch me," he hisses, and Baelfire sighs, hunching down in a way that he hopes is non-threatening. He is not unused to this reaction, though it is usually because of who his father is.

"That shadow thing get you, too?" the second boy asks, and Baelfire turns his attentions to him.

He is younger; can't be older than ten or eleven, saltwater and sand sticking to his ratty clothes. He is wearing the traditional clothing of a London beggar boy, rather than the coarse greens and browns of the Lost Boys, and something about that comforts Baelfire, though he cannot say why.

Even in the fading light, he can see this boy's fiery red hair, standing out against a pale, freckled face. It's something that would be particularly hard to miss.

Because he doesn't feel the need to delve into the story and remind himself of the pirate, Bae shrugs, "Yeah."

The boy reaches out, gesturing for Baelfire to turn around so that he can untie his hands. The bindings fall away with embarrassing ease, and Baelfire rubs his sore wrists, coaxing the blood back into them as Freckles once again moves away.

"My name's Adam, and this is Tom," Adam jerks his head towards the boy with the wounded arm, who does not acknowledge Bae's presence with even a nod. "Don't mind 'im; 'e's been skittish since they brought 'im, yesterday night."

"...Baelfire," he says, only when it is clear that they are expecting it.

"Well, that's a strange name," Adam shrugs, and Baelfire decides then that Adam is entirely too talkative for a prisoner kidnapped from his home. "I would say it's good to meet you, but..."

Baelfire feels the smallest hint of a smile stretching his lips. "Yeah," he says finally, when the silence grows unbearable. As much as he wants to sit in brood over Hook's betrayal, fourteen years with his Papa has taught him to handle bad situations by thinking fast. And Adam's words have only added to his questions. "So, they've just left you in this cage all that time?"

Adam repeats his earlier shrug, leaning back against the bamboo bars and closing his eyes, seeming almost content. "They don' seem t' know what to do with us," he says, and sounds almost proud of that fact. "Give us food and water every day, around noon, far as I can tell, but, other than that, they leave us alone."

Baelfire nods, processing this. He has assumed, until this point, that the Lost Boys were taking them somewhere, somewhere with more privacy than the beach. And if they weren't, he would have to adjust any escape plans accordingly. In Tom's wounded state, he doubts the older boy would be of much help, but perhaps Adam is an ally in all this.

Tom hisses suddenly, uninjured hand rushing to the wounded arm as a new pouch of blood begins to flow, staining his pale shirt a dark red and dripping down towards his trousers.

Adam winces in sympathy. "Tom 'ere tried to fight it. The shadow. Dropped 'im a hundred feet, it did. Could'a smashed 'is face in. Must not be too worried about that."

Baelfire glances sideways at him. "Who are they looking for?"

The boy shakes his head. "'Eck if I know. I thought they'd let us go, since we're not 'The One' or what 'ave you, but they threw us in 'ere instead. And Tom needs someone to look at 'is arm."

"Mind if I?" Baelfire asks Tom gently, because he's had enough experience bandaging up his own wounds when his Papa didn't heal them with magic to know the basics. He's not really in the mood to continue to talk with these boys, and he just wants to go home, so he's unsure why he asks in the first place. But he does. "I might be able to help."

Tom stares at him distrustfully for a moment, dark eyes wide and fearful, and Bae can't help but wonder if that is how he was looking at Hook, only a few minutes earlier.

After a moment in which Baelfire feels as if he is being dissected for weaknesses, Tom nods, holding out his arm.

Shaking his head to clear it of any more thoughts of that pirate, Bae shuffles forward, reaching for the wounded arm as he might a wounded animal.

He's used to children being afraid of him, given who his Papa is, so the fact that Tom so obviously fears him doesn't bother Bae as much as it should. Actually, it makes him feel rather sad; that Tom is afraid of Baelfire.

It's a flesh wound, Bae quickly deciphers, and nowhere near as bad as it sounded, from Tom's description, but Bae knows that it will need stitching up of some sort.

Which is why it's a tragedy he's left his sewing kit at the Darlings', he thinks wryly, and wonders if this is the first time he's laughed since entering Neverland.

The times with Hook don't count, he tries to convince himself.

Tom is eying him warily, probably wondering what he finds so amusing, staring at an open wound as he is, and Baelfire quickly sobers.

"I'm sorry," he says finally, pulling away and wishing he could be of more assistance. "It's not that bad of a wound, but it'll get infected if it isn't treated, and I don't really know how to treat it in here..." he glances around their little box. Then he rips off a piece of his shirt, wrapping the torn cloth tightly around Tom's wound and marveling that the boys have not thought to put pressure on it.

Tom shrugs, as if it doesn't matter, and goes back to his corner of the cage, cradling the wounded arm against his chest and brooding. Baelfire thinks he is glaring with unnecessary hostility at the piece of cloth now wrapped around his arm.

Adam raises an eyebrow at him. "The shadow dropped us here, on the beach. The Lost Boys were already waiting for both of us, then. But you...you came by boat. How is that? The Shadow told us that this place is full of magic, and boys can only come here when they are with him." He sounds full of hope, as if he thinks Bae knows another way out.

"I did. But I got away...for a little while," Baelfire mutters, and doesn't feel the need to explain himself further because he's exhausted, and talking is taking up energy that might be used for fighting back, if the Lost Boys are really up to something obscene.

The confrontation with Hook has left him emotionally drained, and for a moment he is grateful that the pirate didn't just drop him off at the island, because he doesn't think he would last the night. In the next second, he is horrified that he thinks being thrown in a cage is better than braving the wild on his own, but he cannot retract the thought now.

Adam gives him a strange look, and moves closer to Tom, as if, with those words, Bae has pronounced himself some sort of traitor.

Baelfire sighs, leaning his head back against the bamboo bars and closing his eyes. The moment he does, he realizes how much effort he has spent just trying to keep them open in the last several minutes.

The silence of the camp is welcoming.

The Lost Boys, sans the cage guard, are currently huddled on the other side of the beach, whispering amongst themselves in low voices that match the beat of the waves upon the shoreline. Their fire has gone down now, a faint flicker amongst two charred logs. Even the woods seem to have grown quiet, though the occasional howl can still be heard.

Baelfire doesn't remember falling asleep, doesn't remember four Lost Boys picking up the cage as the sun peaks over the horizon and carrying it deep into the forest, so deep that the cries of Tom and Adam will not be enough to alert the pirates that something has gone horribly wrong.

Baelfire sleeps, and it is a peaceful, dreamless sleep, the first sleep in a long time where his father does not haunt his nightmares, forever dropping him into the portal to fend for himself.

He will need this peaceful rest, when he awakens.

The island knows this.