Hi! Thanks so much for checking out our story! My friend, Emma, and I will be switching off points of view for this story-probably every other chapter. We hope you guys like it!:)

So we both really like Once Upon a Time and really wish they kept Peter alive for the rest of Season 3 (hopefully he'll come back at some point!) We really like Pan's character and wanted to write a fic about it...so here it is!:)

There will be lots of intense stuff and fluff later on...:)

We don't own any Once Upon a Time characters or the setting of Neverland!

All reviews, follows, or favorites are greatly appreciated and we will love you forever and ever:)

Thanks so much!

Sophie's POV

I rolled over on my side, suddenly unable to get comfortable. My shoulders felt particularly achy, but I ignored it and squeezed my eyes tighter to try to fall back asleep. I hated mornings. I could already feel a headache coming on. I groaned out loud and went to stuff my face into my pillow, but my mouth and nose hit something damp and grassy. I inhaled the scent of moist ground and wet dirt and slowly opened my eyes.

I was sleeping in...dirt. I stared at the green and brown stuff in front of me for a second, and the green and brown stuff almost seemed to stare back at me. Then, my brain clicked on and I shot up like a rocket. I swiped my long brown hair from my face and spat out dirt from my mouth. My heart started pumping as I glanced around frantically, realizing that this was most definitely not my bedroom on a sleepy Sunday morning.

Tall trees surrounded me on all sides, and little rays of sunshine shone through the trees long branches. I gulped down a terrified little squeal, feeling my face get hot as my brain whirled as to why I was in the middle of some forest. Was I kidnapped by some crazy serial killer? Was the crazy serial killer going to jump out of the trees and grab me? Was a bear going to eat my face? My brain whizzed a million miles an hour as paranoia set in. I rubbed my temples as I tried to calm myself down and remember what happened last night. What if somebody gave me some drug and raped me then left me in the forest to die?

My stomach twisted in uncomfortable knots as the possibilities just got worse and worse. Think, Sophie, think. What happened last night? Despite all my struggles, I couldn't remember anything but falling asleep in my sky blue, messy bedroom and waking up on the forest floor. Not helpful.

"Well, hello," An alien voice said calmly from behind me.

Goosebumps immediately formed on my arms and I felt like I was going to puke. I spun on my heel to face the source of the voice. My breath caught in my throat. A boy who looked a little older than me stood a few feet away, leaning on a tree, smirking evilly. And no, that is not an exaggeration. He looked like bad news. He was, admittedly, much taller than I was, and had pretty nice muscles from what I could tell. His wavy light brown hair was swept messily across his forehead. Okay, so the kid was pretty hot. But also creepy. He wore a ragged v-neck shirt of sorts, and dark green pants to match. He looked me up and down and smirked even wider, and I glanced down at myself. Oh, shit. The one time I go to bed with just an oversized t-shirt on, I wind up in a forest in front of a hot guy who may or may not be a serial killer.

My face immediately turned bright red as I tried to pull the t-shirt down to at least my mid thigh. Luckily, it wasn't too short-you couldn't see my butt or anything, but I had no intention of lifting up my arms. I kept one hand pulling down the shirt awkwardly as I addressed the boy in a small voice. "What-where am I?"

The boy flicked up an eyebrow. "You don't remember?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Remember? Remember what?"

"Well, you have changed quite a bit. I suppose it's been a while, huh?" The boy cocked his head at me a little. "How old are you now?"

My heart started racing a million miles an hour. I didn't know what to do but answer him. "Six-sixteen."

The boy raised his eyebrows in surprise. "It has been a while."

"Been a while? Do we know each other?" I demanded, starting to get more frustrated than scared.

The boy swallowed, almost looking a little sad before his eyes clouded over with cockiness again. "Sophie. It's me, Peter. Peter Pan."

My stomach felt even more uneasy, if that was even possible. "How the hell do you know my name? Peter Pan isn't real. He's a fairy tale!"

"He wasn't always," The boy murmured softly as he took a step closer to me. "Don't you remember, when you were a kid, and you sat by your window in your tiny pink bedroom? On that toybox you had, because you couldn't see the stars if you were sitting on the floor? Don't you remember when you believed so badly, you would wish on the same star every night? You would wish for me to take you away, to make it all better? Sophie-I did. You didn't imagine it when you thought you saw a shadow flutter around your bedroom before you fell asleep. When you swore you could see a yellow glow coming from your vanity's drawer. Sophie-"

"Stop!" I shouted suddenly, something like anger pulsing through my veins. My fingers pressed hard against my temples as I tried to slow my brain down. How did he know all of this? Sure, I had a phase when I was kid. Everybody wished upon a star. I never actually saw Peter Pan's shadow in my bedroom, I never actually flew away with him. I never battled with pirates, I never swam with mermaids. I never held a tiny fairy in my little hands, I never met a strange boy who told me not to grow up. It was impossible.

The boy was so close to me now, I could hear him breathing heavily. "You believed before. Nobody ever truly forgets Neverland."

I stopped staring at the ground and finally got up the courage to look him in the eyes. "If you're really Peter Pan, then...how come you can't fly?"

I figured it was an easy way out. Nobody could actually fly. This was real life, not a fairy tale. I'd given him something he couldn't do, something that would prove he was lying to me and stop that twisted smile of his. Then I could just accept the fact he was insane and stop that little voice in my head that wanted desperately to believe him.

The boy smiled as he pulled out a clear glass tube with a pink cork and spilled some glittery, gold dust into the palm of his hand. I watched him with wide eyes, my brain telling me the kid was crazy but my heart wanting to believe every word he said. He flicked his eyebrows up at me and suddenly blew the gold dust in my face. I spluttered and coughed, an overpowering scent of lilac filling my nostrils. It smelled just like the big lilac bushes that were in my backyard growing up. The ones I would pick for mom and she would put in a pretty vase on the table. The familiar, nostalgic scent made all my fear melt away.

"Think happy thoughts," Peter breathed in my ear. He took my cold hands in his and squeezed them tight when I tried to flinch away.

I glanced at him, flicking up my eyebrows. "Not working, buddy."

"Really?" Peter laughed.

I looked down at the ground, and sure enough, I was at least four feet above it. My bare feet were no longer touching the mossy ground. I gasped out loud. I was flying. Peter chuckled, and I realized he was flying, too. "We're-you're-how-" I began, but Peter cut me off.

"What was it you used to say?" Peter grinned as he mocked a little girls voice. "Faith, trust, and pixie dust?"

I glared daggers at him, but he just chuckled and spun around in the air. "It doesn't make any sense."

"What, love?"

"Um, well, everything. You. Neverland. Me. The fact I'm floating right now? It's all crazy," I folded my arms and refused to take my eyes off him.

"Oh, don't be such a grown up," Peter groaned as he smiled at me.

I scoffed. "Um, in case you haven't noticed, it's a bit late for me to not act like a grown up."

Peter frowned as he pulled my hands from my chest and dragged me up higher from the ground. My stomach did somersaults as I stared at the rapidly shrinking tree tops. I was squeezing his hands so tight, I thought I had broken them.

"Stop!" I finally exclaimed, and Peter made a pouty face and jerked me upward forcefully so I was eye level with him.

"Do you still not believe?"

"Shut up."

Peter laughed. "It's okay to admit you were wrong. You'll be doing it an awful lot from now on, you know."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I suddenly demanded. Did he mean I had to stay here? That I couldn't go home? No way was he holding me prisoner, no matter who or what he was. I had to go home. That was it. I thought about Mom and Dad, how worried they must have been. I swallowed hard when I saw Peter's unforgiving gaze. "I'm going home."

Peter let go of my hands, and I dropped a few feet before I managed to steady myself. He glared down at me with such fire behind his eyes, you'd think I would have just killed his best friend. "Why? Why would you go back to that place? Be made a wife? Be made a mother?"

"Hey, I'm not that old."

"Not yet," Peter whispered, floating down toward me. "But how much longer before you start to think about it? Until you change for good? Until you really grow up?"

I just stared at him, my brain and my heart saying completely opposite things again. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't want to grow up, but some part of me always accepted that I had to. That there wasn't any point in fighting it, everybody had to grow up at some point. It wasn't all bad, honestly. Well, most of it was, like growing pains and hormonal imbalances and liking someone who doesn't know you exist and worrying about college and what am I even going to do with my life plus the whole sleep deprived thing sorta drives you up the wall...but you kind of find out who you want to be, right? Well, you're supposed to. It's supposed to be a learning process. Well, the thing was, all I ever saw when I looked in the mirror was a scared little girl stuck inside a grown up body. I wasn't ready for college, for a job, for a husband, for a kid. For a life I knew I'd screw up somehow, like I always did. I didn't feel excited, like I was supposed to. I just felt scared. To answer his question, I really didn't have much time until I started to "really" grow up. God knows I had already started worrying about it.

"I don't want to grow up," I whispered finally. "But it's too late."

Peter shook his head, his eyes earnest as he searched mine. "Too late? If it were too late, you wouldn't even be here." Peter studied my face as I tried hard to swallow back tears. I stared down at the tiny little treetops, focusing more on the uneasy feeling they gave me than the more daunting uneasiness the boy in front of me radiated.
Peter gripped my shoulders so I was forced to look at him. "Hey, come on. Don't be sad. You're here now. No grown up problems will bother you ever again."

No grown up problems will bother you ever again. He was saying I wasn't going back. He was saying I would never grow up, that he would keep me here somehow. I'd be sixteen forever. Well, sorry bud, but I was going home, no matter how much I didn't want to. It was the right thing to do...right?

Still, why did he care so much if I was sad? Was he actually trying to cheer me up? I chewed my lip uneasily.

Peter held my hand gently and tugged me along to his camp, silent as I watched the trees blurring by and ran my fingers through the low clouds. I was trying hard to stop my eyes from tearing up, and the breeze was drying them a bit. I kept watching the back of Peter's head, unable to tell if he was the good or bad guy. He just seemed like...a boy. A boy who was just as afraid, or maybe more afraid, of growing up as I was. Part of me wanted to believe him when he said I had been here before and acted like he wanted to protect me. But cold, stiff reality sunk in, and I knew he was trying to manipulate me, Peter Pan or not. I wasn't a little girl anymore. If he had fooled me before, he wasn't going to again.

Just then, Peter twisted his head around and looked at me, a glint in his eye that made my stomach twist into knots again. I quickly looked away, but could see him smirking slightly out of the corner of my eye before he turned around again. "Almost there."

I gulped, suddenly regretting ever letting him bring me to his "camp." I must have just been getting deeper and deeper into the forest, which probably meant I had less chance of finding people that weren't convinced they were Peter Pan.

Peter slowed and let go of my hand. I found myself almost grasping for it, uneasy about flying on my own. Peter smiled at me. "You alright, love?"

I glared at him as I held out my arms to steady myself. "What do you think?"

Peter grinned at me and gently landed on his light feet. Great, now I have to land. And he can probably see up this stupid shirt.

Well, if that wasn't motivation, I don't know what was, because I somehow figured out how to switch off the new flying thing. Only problem was I flicked the off switch a little too fast and hit the ground with a heavy thud and a low groan.

I stood up and pushed my hair back from my face. Before Peter could say anything else that was remotely snarky, I gave him a sharp look that told him to shut it before I smacked that smug look off his stupid face. "By the way, have you got any pants around here? I mean, I've got no intention of flying in a dress."

"That's hardly a dress," Peter scoffed.

"Well, sorry, I wasn't planning on waking up in a forest somewhere. I was kinda sleeping, ya know?" I snapped as I spun to face him.

The corner of Peter's mouth tugged up in amusement and I continued to walk backwards to reduce the risk of flashing him. He gave me a weird look. "You know, you're the first teenage girl to come to the island."

I rolled my eyes. "Uh huh. Right."

"I'm just saying, I don't see girls too often-"

"Aren't you the boy who never grew up?" I snapped, desperately wanting a pair of jeans at that moment.

Suddenly, Peter had both my wrists in his hands and pinned to a nearby tree trunk. I sucked in a sharp gasp in surprise and tried to push him off me, but he wouldn't budge. Apparently I'd hit a soft spot, as if the very definition of himself made him angry. Like that made sense. I refused to give him the satisfaction of frightening me, so I glared pointedly at him as if to ask what the hell he was doing. It was a pretty reasonable question.

"Let me make this perfectly clear," Peter hissed in my ear, his breath too hot on the side of my neck. "I make the rules around here. You will do as I ask and follow my rules. If you fail to do this, well, I'll just have to come up with some sort of horrible punishment."

I bit my tongue to keep myself from demanding who put him in charge in the first place, deeming it unwise to do so in my present predicament. I did the only thing my scared little rabbit brain could have done at that moment. I swallowed hard and stared at him, neither accepting nor rejecting his menacing warning. Peter's eyes lingered on mine a little too long before he released me abruptly and started stalking through the forest to a sunny clearing. God knows why I followed him, rubbing my wrists a little bit and trying to forget the way his lips brushed my ear as he spoke. I didn't have anywhere to go, I guess. And Peter would probably find me before I managed to get more than a few yards from his camp.

As I trailed after Peter I broke through the brush to the clearing, where a low fire sat in desperate need of more wood in the center. There were logs set up like benches a few feet from the pit, and I wondered why they would put the benches so far back if the whole point of the fire was to keep warm. I brushed the thought from my mind as I took in a couple tents scattered unevenly around, and a looming treehouse built far up in a tall, sturdy tree. A ladder hung from the opening, but I was guessing there wasn't much need for it.

It took me a couple seconds to notice a little boy staring at me, his mouth gaping wide. He had deep brown skin and curly dark hair. He looked about nine or ten, I couldn't quite tell. I smiled a little warily at him, but he just continued to look at me like I came from outer space or something.

"Are you a...lady?" He asked suddenly.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Was it really that hard to tell? "Um, yes?"

The boy grinned, straightening up and giving me a deep bow, making me let out a laugh. "I'm August. May I ask what your name is, miss?"

"Sophie," I replied. "Nice to meet you, August."

August grinned up at me, and he looked as if he was going to ask me another question, when his eyes suddenly lit up. I glanced behind me, to see a tall, long haired blond boy sulking behind a tree. He looked older, probably Peter's age. I didn't know if he was actually glaring at me, or if he was in a bad mood.

"Felix! This is Sophie! She's a lady!" August exclaimed, as he bounded over to Felix.

"How incredibly observant of you, August. She is in fact female," Felix grumbled. I found myself pulling down my shirt self consciously again.

"I know, but, we never have girls on the island! The shadow always brings them back. Why does it do that, anyway?" August cocked his head at Felix.

"Because Pan tells it to, obviously," Felix said as he continued to stare at me. I flicked my eyebrow up questioningly. Felix hid further behind his dark hood and glanced down at August.

"Why does Pan tell it to? Girls seem nice. At least, Sophie does."

I smiled, wondering how August could have decided I was nice after exchanging about five words with each other. "We're usually pretty nice, August. I guess you'd have to ask Pan why he doesn't want girls on the island."

Felix shot me a look and said, "Yes, August, why don't you go find Pan and ask him? Then come back and tell us the exciting news."

August ignored Felix's sarcasm and ran off, calling out for Pan. I honestly had no idea where that boy had went, I could have sworn I had just seen him standing near the fire pit. My attention flickered back to Felix, who was still gazing at me from under his hood. I couldn't tell if he was trying to be mysterious or some crap like that, or if he was trying to hide something.

"Who are you?"

"Um, Sophie-"

"No, I mean who are you? What are you?" Felix interrupted briskly.

"Er, a...person?" I said slowly, confused by what he was saying. "Peter said I came here when I was a kid. But that's, um, crazy."

Felix stared at me again, sizing me up. He didn't look too impressed. I stood up a little straighter and tried hard to look brave as I stood there in my ridiculously short outfit. This guy creeped me out, maybe even more than Pan.

After what seemed like at least eight minutes of Felix staring at me with a smirk on his face, I blurted out in irritation, "What?"

"Nothing," Felix said calmly despite my obvious annoyance. I didn't know what the hell he was looking at, honestly. I wasn't really doing anything interesting.
I rolled my eyes. "Seriously. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You won't last here. Pan's going to send you back, like he always does," Felix droned.

"If he was gonna send me back, why hasn't he done it yet?" I groaned.

"Do you want to go back?"

"I don't know. It's none of your business, anyway," I snapped.

Felix chuckled. "There are no secrets on Neverland, kid."

I glared at him and leaned against a tree as I furrowed my eyebrows questionly. "Aren't there supposed to be...more of you?"

"You mean the lost boys?" Pan was suddenly next to me, leaning against the tree lazily. I jumped away, stifling a tiny scream. Peter and Felix smiled at each other and my stomach did flip flops again. I swallowed hard and glanced between them. Get ready, Sophie. Karate ninja mode. Or running a 5k mode. One of those. Maybe both of them.

"There are more of them, they're out hunting right now," Peter drawled as his eyes slid back to me. His eyebrow flicked up as he looked me up and down. "You still want pants?"
"Yeah," I said grudgingly.

Peter pouted mockingly. "Magic word?"

I inhaled deeply and muttered, "Please."

Peter grinned and snapped his fingers. I cocked my head and frowned at him, confused. "Uh?"

Peter raised his eyebrows and looked down at me. I glanced down at myself, my mouth falling a little open in shock. I was wearing a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and brown leather lace-up combat boots, paired with a floaty white blouse.

"Well, your style isn't half bad," I remarked, fiddling with the creamy white sleeve.

Peter shrugged, "I merely used what you were thinking of."

"You can read my thoughts?" I gasped.

Peter laughed. "No, sweetie, only Neverland can do that. The magic here lets you think of anything you want, and it's yours. I just wanted you to have whatever you meant by 'pants,' since I've only seen a woman wear dresses and wouldn't know."

I was still looking at him suspiciously. "Let me guess, to do that, I have to believe with all my wittle heart?"

"You already do. How do you think you flew?"

That shut me up. I couldn't have flown without believing I could. I gulped and bit my lip. Peter smiled at me cheekily. Felix was still watching me intently, but I had started to ignore his dry gaze. Or maybe I was just getting used to it.

"What if I wanted to go home?" I immediately asked, knowing that it was impossible anything on this island could be that easy but wanting to ask anyway.
Peter laughed. "Not that simple. But you don't want that, anyway."

"Of course I do!"

Peter flicked an irritating eyebrow. "Really? What on earth for?"

I just stared at him, completely dumbstruck. Gee, I don't know, my family? Friends? Normal life? I had plenty of reasons to go home, but I couldn't quite find a way to make my voice tell him them.

"See? You just wanna have fun; be a kid again? I mean, who doesn't?" Peter's eyes grazed over mine, then his face lit up. "Wanna do something fun?"
Oh God no. This guy's idea of fun can be nothing but bad news. "Um."

"C'mon, you gotta be a good sport 'round here," Peter said. He looked very excited, like a kid on Christmas who just got a new toy. I didn't like the idea of being one of those toys. He seemed like the kinda guy who had a tendency to break them.

"What exactly do you mean by fun?" I asked slowly.

Peter shrugged. "Nothing to worry about. We've only had a couple casualties."

"A couple?" I choked. Maybe that was where the rest of the Lost Boys were.

"I didn't like 'em much anyway."

"Ah, right, no biggie," I scoffed sarcastically.

Peter's eyes slipped to Felix, who shook his head softly. Peter's face was unreadable as he looked back at me. "Please trust me, Sophie. You used to."
My throat felt like it was swelling up. "First of all, I don't remember coming here, much less trusting you. And why the hell would I ever trust you if I had?"

I almost thought I saw a twinge of hurt cross Peter's cocky face, but it vanished as quick as it came. "Maybe it'll help jog your memory."

"Lame excuse."

"What? Are you afraid?"

"No. I'm just...I don't trust you and you're still most likely to be a crazy serial killer."

"You can't be a lost boy if you won't even try," Felix said quietly.

I glared at him. "Who says I wanna be a lost boy?"

Peter was looking at me funny. "You're different."

"Different?"

"You used to want to stay."

A lump caught in my throat. "Yeah, well. Reality kinda does that to you."

"But...there's no reality here. You can do whatever you want, be whoever you want. Isn't that all you ever wanted?"

I just stared at him, unable to come up with an answer for that.

"It's okay. I always like a challenge," Peter said casually as a big grin spread across his face. "And, Peter Pan never fails."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. This guy was definitely as egotistical as the storybook character, if not more. Maybe he had more in common with the Disney version than I thought. Peter Pan loved games, deals. Maybe I could use that to my advantage. It was worth a shot, anyway. "Fine. How about, if in three days, if you've convinced me to stay, then I'll stay here and be a lost, um, person. But if I still want to go home, you have to let me."

"Make it a week. There's no way I could show you all of Neverland in three days."

A whole week? It seemed like a long time. My parents would be worried sick. And what if time passed differently here, like it did in the movies? A sharp image of me returning home to my family's long-dead bodies buried under gravestones crossed my mind, and my stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots again. Still, I didn't want to push it, and if I was still alive at that point, I would definitely still want to go home. There was no way he could convince me otherwise.

I was going home one way or another, I guessed. That was better than the alternative of staying with teenage boys for the rest of my life. "Okay."

Peter's eyes narrowed. "But you have to go anywhere I say, and join in on the games. You need to act like a Lost Girl."

I didn't want to, but I didn't see any better alternative. "Fine. But I don't have to like it."

"You most certainly do not."

"Deal?"

"Deal." Peter held out his hand for me to shake. I gulped, everything in me screaming this was probably the worst idea I'd ever had. Still, Peter's hand was waiting expectantly. I gingerly placed my palm in his and did my best to shake forcefully, but my whole being felt shaky.

Only a week. Just don't die.

Peter released my hand and grinned. "Okay, now you have to come with me." Shoot. "You promised," He pouted, tugging at my wrist. My skin crawled as his fingers brushed my arm. I reluctantly allowed him to lead me into the woods.

I glanced back at Felix, who was glaring at me with such intensity I immediately flipped back around to look at the back of Peter's head. What had I gotten myself into?

"Don't mind Felix. He just needs to warm up, that's all," Peter said casually as I followed him through the forest.

I narrowed my eyes at his back. I couldn't think of what to say without saying Felix was kind of terrifying me, so I just grunted a muffled response. I wasn't quite sure how Peter would interpret it since I didn't really know what I meant by it in the first place. After a brief pause, I cleared my throat uncomfortably and asked, "So, why are we walking?"

Peter turned around and flicked up an eyebrow. "You're pretty eager to fly for a girl who wants to go back to reality so badly."

I shrugged. "Seems faster."

"The reason we're not flying is because we have a limited supply of pixie dust," Peter explained as he ducked under a tree branch. I followed him under the branch, pulling my hair to one side so it wouldn't block my vision. I didn't remember that from the cartoon.

We walked in silence, him leading me deeper and deeper into the unending forest and me trying to mull everything over. This was actually happening; I was here. I was practically being held prisoner by my childhood hero (who turned out to be much less hero like than I had thought). There was a scary guy with a hood named Felix who might or might not have the desire to slit my throat later. He looked like he was ready to, anyway. I had brand new clothes because I wished for it. I had flown higher than the treetops, high enough I could run my fingers through the clouds. I was stuck in Neverland, where I would never have to deal with grown up problems.

I wasn't completely sure I wanted this to be a dream.

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