A/n: This entire theory (aka drunken thinky theory) belongs to Rhianna-Aurora (Tricia) to which I also dedicate this! She told me this crazy hairbrained drunken theory and my still mildly liquor addled brain went to work. Enjoy!
"Why am I so important?" Henry questioned, his eyes darting around the approaching Lost Boys – looking for some way out and finding none. He was trapped. "Why do you want me?"
"The heart of the truest believer." Pan drawled out, his head tilting to the side with an imperious look on his face. "My brother." There was a hush that fell over the forest then. As if both Lost Boy and forest creature froze – focused on what the boy had said.
Henry's eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest. "B-…brother?"
"Aye," Peter clapped his hands together, breaking the circle and approaching the younger boy. "Your brother. Don't believe me?"
"Why should I?" Henry tensed, his little shoulders rising upwards in defense as the boy leaned closer to him. "You're… you're Peter Pan. I don't have a brother." He flinched then as Peter placed his hands on his shoulders.
"And why can't I be your brother Henry? I do know who you are after all."
"You're evil!" He gave as an explanation.
"Am I?" His laugh was forced, squeezing Henry's shoulders as he did. "You see Henry…" His own shoulders sagged and he gave the boy an amused expression, "My parents are here right now." He pulled away from Henry, crossing his arms across his chest. "I needed you to come here so that they would come for you and thus… I would be born."
"I don't understand what you're saying…" The boy's brows creased together, tucking his hands into his coat pockets, "Your parents? Who are your parents?"
"Here I was thinking you were a clever lad," Peter and the Lost Boys laughed then, "Takes after his father I suppose. Not mine of course." He gave Henry a cruel smile, "It is quite ironic how your world paints Neverland. Peter Pan and Captain Hook pitted against one another. Ha! They always leave out the most important part."
"Wha-.. What's that?"
"That Peter is the son of Captain Hook – or rather, Killian Jones. Less fanciful than the moniker really."
"Your dad is the pirate?"
"And my mother's your mother." His smile darkened, "Which gets us back into the reason for all of this. You see… There's a hitch in all of this. Years from now, well after I'm born, when I'm… round about this age – you start to dabble in magic. It taints that heart of yours." Peter brought his hand to cover Henry's chest, just over his heart. "And all hell breaks loose. Blood Magic they call it."
"Blood Magic?" Henry's brows creased together and he shoved Peter's hand away. "I don't understand."
"You're the grandson of the Dark One." Peter spat out, fists balling at his sides. "It's in your blood. Whether you want it to be or not. Your father had it, you have it, and anyone in your line has it." His hands went to his hips again, trying to shake off his anger. "I tried for quite some time to get you here. Time doesn't move here, you see – so when I came here it was just a matter of waiting. Your great-grandfather, your grandfather, your father, and now…. You."
"Why me? Why do you want me here?"
"Did you happen to miss the part where I said you bring on the undoing of the world?" Peter gave him a droll look, rolling his eyes. "Boys, lock him away, I'm tired of this right now. I must go find mother, I've got a game to play."