CURRENT: THE UNDERWORLD

He awoke in a familiar room. At first, he thought he had come to in the back of Rumple's shop. His chest burned, as if the dagger was still there. He felt his face, smooth and soft like a child's. He paused. Why had he pictured tired hands and wrinkled skin? Maybe he had dreamt that his son had killed him. The tips of his fingers burned, and his magic didn't feel up to par. If he wasn't in Rumple's shop, then where was he? As he took in a whiff of the stale air and sulfur, he seethed, that slimy, putrid, cre-

"Rumple? Son?" No answer. No scuttle of a limp leg or a cane. He felt betrayed, by magic, by the shadow, by the prophecy and mostly by his own son. He could feel the rage in his bones; that little bastard had found a loophole.

He smiled bitterly. That boy really had moments, where he felt he was a true fruit of his loins, but they were few and far between. He tried to summon his cloak, but it didn't appear.

He flexed his hand, contemplating how much he did not like this realm. His magic was different and so were the rules. He had so much to learn. A setback, but he would remedy it as soon as he had a plan.

The door chimed in the front, signaling someone had entered his space. He approached the front from the back room, where there were still enough trinkets and magical items to keep him occupied, he noted. His curiosity fell short when he saw that the king of hell was carelessly fingering through items.

"Hades," he greeted him suspiciously. The last thing Peter Pan was going to do was bow down to a new ruler. Afterlife or no afterlife, he answered only to himself.

"Now, now," Hades twirled a globe with a twitch of his finger. He leaned against the glass case, smirking at the deceivingly young man.

"Peter Pan," he started slowly, "A boy I never had expected to see here."

Peter's eyes narrowed.

"How's my domain treating a legend such as yourself?" Hades couldn't help but prod, the whole situation was comical for him. The green-eyed boy sneered at him. But at the last moment, a wicked smile spread across his face.

"It could be made … comfortable. Perhaps a deal could be struck?" Peter suggested, leaving his proposal out on the table.

Hades shrugged. He had nothing better to do. He had all of eternity to play favorites as he plotted against his brothers.

"Possibly," he answered, snapping his fingers. "But perhaps a change in …"

Peter's fur lined cloak morphed into a tailored suit. "Ah much better. A deal looks more promising with a shrewd business suit. I hear the Dark One prefers these nowadays, father like son? Mhmm."

Pan was hardly amused, but willing to overlook this indiscretion. After all, he was no longer in his territory, no thanks to Rumple. He tried his utter best not to sneer at the God of the Underworld, well, again at least.

"I want to be left to my own devices, occupying my time with this store," he sighed angrily, "Rumple has found a loophole from death."

Hades nodded thoughtfully before posing a question. "In exchange for what? You might have magic here, but you do not want me as an enemy Pan."

The man boy smiled like a viper, ready to strike back. Peter lifted a brow, mocking the millennia-old god with his teenage charms.

"Information of course." If this store front was as similar as Rumple's- ah- Hades watched the boy pull from under the counter a turquoise bead laid in a cushion. A blue flame sparked above the god's left ear. Peter knew he had the god right where he wanted him. Hades was interested indeed; that bead signified a haunting reminder of something that never progressed. "Providing you can meet my interests equally."

CURRENT: THE ISLAND OF THE BLESSED

When Neal finally met his maker, she wasn't exactly who he thought it would be. He had seen this girl before in a place he had hoped to forget. Her smile didn't put him off in a way that he thought it should, in fact, it made him grin until his face hurt.

"Sunny!" He scooped up the young woman, swinging her around. She laughed, despite her surprise. This boy, well- man, was much more cheerful than she would have ever expected when seeing her again. He set her down lightly, still grinning as he inspected her person. He rubbed one of her dark dreads in between his pointer and thumb, still straw like and ragged as he remembered. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, making her bright green eyes more prominent. "You look practically the same." She giggled patting his shoulder.

"And you, you're so much older!" She exclaimed, touching his beard, and laugh lines on his face. His warm brown eyes greeted her with dose of nostalgia. It had been a long time since she had seen her friend. "Bae, it's so good you're here! I've missed you so!" He embraced her once again, relishing her excitement.

"I've missed you too. I was wondering why you weren't in Neverland," he whispered. She broke the embrace, her smile tight, where her scars were taunt and puckered against the rest of her pale complexion. She was uncomfortable, he could tell, but she tried to grin through it. She was always so wary of giving too much away, but Neal knew something was upsetting her. Finally, he looked past her to find himself in a field near a watering hole and a treehouse, very reminiscent of the shanty she had on Neverland. He turned in confusion, noting there was also a Ferris wheel and roller rink at the end of the grassy retreat. It reminded him of Jersey when he first got to walk down the Boardwalk. He felt her cold hand slip into his own, and he met her waiting green eyes. "Where are we?"

"Our happy places! Where would you like to start? Yours or mine?"

Still uncertain, he shrugged. What did she mean by happy place? Why was his happy place an amusement park?

"Okay then," she said, linking arms with him, "we'll go to mine first!"

Oh, Hades remembered,

Barefoot, pregnant, and delicate. Cordelia, the pale, dark haired beauty of the oceans. A mother goddess to the wakes and tides. An underling to his brother, Poseidon. He had been warned never again to invade in the affairs of his siblings. Taking such a gem under the nose of his prissy brother was the final straw to the others, but loneliness had crept on him suddenly, he never imagined missing his departed Persephone as he did. Cordelia cried to the sea, waiting for him to come. But the situation was out of his hands. He was bound by his brothers, condemned to the Underworld until his heart would beat once more. The final trial, to ensure his punishment, was to break the heart of one who had the power to save him.

He could no longer stay in the realm physically, cursed to suffer watching her pain from afar. The night Poseidon had breathed his lies, Cordelia denounced her magic, her calling. She cursed his name until the wee morning hours, finally tearing apart the necklace of pearls and turquoise beading he had bestowed her. When the string snapped, he watched the rolling jewels fall into the depths of the sea.

ONE

BY

ONE,

Until the last one disappeared, he knew his current chance had been torn from his grasp. He could no longer afford to dwell on such heartbreak, he needed to find another way to exact his revenge.

"But there is no information that I don't already have," Hades pointed out the obvious. "Besides, your ultimate goal has been achieved, unending youth."

Hades had to admit that the boy was hard to unnerve. Whatever information he held he was confident in its value. "But I might make a trade of information if I find it intriguing."

"Pride kills," Pan gestured to himself, "I would know." The god leaned against the display case, twirling the bead in place. "To keep your interest. I'm going to tell you a story."

The god snorted, "A story?" He doubted a tall tale from a rather naughty little boy would rouse much interest.

"Yes," Peter continued, taking no personal offense to Hades' disbelief. It would only contribute to him becoming caught off guard. "It all starts with a story of a girl with forest green eyes and the ability to manipulate the sea."

Neal slurped down the rest of his milkshake, while absentmindedly dangling from the handmade rope swing. He watched Sunny coax the eggs into staying solid while the fire below cooked the eggs and bread concurrently. For some reason, he didn't understand why she was cooking them in that fashion, couldn't they wish for a stove, or just wish for them made?

"Oh!" Sunny exclaimed, smiling towards Baelfire. "Was I taking too long to cook?" She laughed, placing the plates down for the meal that had appeared finished. He hopped down bounding for the picnic table she had set up. She began cutting into her food immediately while he sat down and stared in an inquisitive manner.

"Is this eggs in a basket?" She nodded thoughtfully, as she cut hers into smaller and smaller pieces. "Why did you make this?" He asked generally wondering.

She paused, setting down her cutlery. Sunny seemed downtrodden by his comment. "I don't mean anything by it. It looks delicious." The white in her knuckles lessened, and she continued cutting her meal to tiny bits. He reached out, caressing her scarred hands. "I'm sorry if I upset you Sunny."

"I make them because they're my favorite. I was thinking, I'll cook yours tomorrow. Was it the porterhouse steak, right?" Neal nodded, still trying to grasp how she knew that. "Because I've been watching for a long time." Apparently, she knew that he would think of these kinds of questions.

"Do you make these because of Pan?"

"Yes," she admitted shamefully. They were her favorite because they were Peter's favorite. He had only made them for her, and she knew now, his boy Rumple. People that had mattered to Peter at one time. She wanted to continue that tradition for people that mattered to her. "He used to make them for your father as well."

Neal was surprised, he hadn't known that. His father had died so quickly in between events that he had never gained details about his father and his grandfather.

"How would you know that; did he tell you?" She shook her head no. He sighed, she had been in the dark as much as he is, was. He wasn't sure how time worked around here. "Then how did you find out?"

She put down the silverware once again, smiling briefly. "Would you like me to show you?"

He nodded his head vigorously. He was eager for information he had never dreamed of wanting. She stood offering her hand, which he gladly accepted. Her fingers intertwined between his, still ice cold to the touch. They took off in the direction of the watering hole. Before they got halfway, he realized that they left out the food she had worked hard making.

"What about the food you made?" She waved off his concern, pulling him forward.

"He'll finish it all before we get back." Neal accepted her answered, but he couldn't help but wonder, who did she mean by he?

"My shadow, had watched her for years. A slip of a girl born of privilege, but not monetary in any means, noting her dirty hair and threadbare rags. I had stumbled upon her accidentally actually. But I soon realized fate had wanted me there. I had witnessed that many nights, in vain efforts to distract herself from her abhorred presence, she played by the sea. She played with the creatures, harpies, sirens, and mermaids alike with no consequence. An innocent magic, white in color, one that was incorruptible and unending. Something beautiful and prolific.

"My interest soared. Neverland thrived on beings with such spirit. A child of the ocean, a pure heart of the sea, a fine addition she would make for the island. All I had to do was wait and endure. A small price to be had by a being of limitless potential but finite time. I took this time to learn, play, and move all pieces underlying this newest project. A game of sorts. The first of my discoveries would tell me why she possessed the pure green eyes I alone had known. How did this girl have the eyes of an immortal?" Peter paused at a pivotal point, knowing it would irritate the god whom had been hanging onto his every word.

Hades rolled his wrist, insisting the demon boy continue. Pan's eyes gleamed, knowing his tale held true merit. The impatience gesture had proved to Pan his current bargaining power. "Before I continue, I want to know if we have a deal?" Hades grunted in annoyance and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

"How does one leave the Underworld?" Hades laughed, shaking his head in joyous amusement. Having failed this feat, himself, he saw no harm in telling the boy. He was as unlikely of a candidate to leave here as Hades was.

"Two ways." Vague as possible, Peter noted, this god knew how to play games as well. No matter.

"It wasn't hard to tell she wasn't quite human, but it was a mystery how this goddess ended in such an unfortunate situation. There were many times in my visits that I healed her." He paused, for dramatics and for the god to speak as well.

"Thank you Peter." She flexed her finger happily. It has been swollen and crooked for the better part of day. "I wish I didn't have to wait until the sun rests to see you."

He gave a humble smile, trying to conceal his interest. "Miss me?" He teased, watching her unknowingly manipulate the water. She turned away, staring at her newly healed hands. A blush somewhat tangible on her cheeks in the moonlight.

She guiltily thought how the use of her finger would have helped with her quilting today. Lord Magnus had thought her stitching had been subpar, causing mother to lash out at her. But to keep herself from crying, she had thought about Peter's visit. He seemed to know that when she needed him most.

"And if I said maybe?" He smirked at her uncertain flirting. Of course she wanted his attention. He was the only one that ever gave her any. He talked to her at night. Healed her various wounds, as simple as her broken finger to more gruesome ones, like a half severed toe. He abruptly stood, taking her off guard.

"I don't stay around for the promises of maybes." He told her, watching the horror in her green eyes.

"No, please Peter stay. I did miss you." He shrugged appearing to take her declarations in a nonchalant manner. Disguising the quivering gleam beneath his skin. The desperation in her tone seemed to excite him a way that others have not. She would soon be his. Just a little bit longer.

Neal marveled at the spiraling water below, images of the past, and present were right at his fingertips. He saw his father grow up. His childhood had been rougher and more unloving than he had ever imagined. He also witnessed all the time his father spent to get him back. Even though he still couldn't forgive his father for giving him up, he understood why he made the choices that he did. "Whoa, whoa?" The water stood still, he leaned over trying to make sense of the images below. "How is Henry the Author, and when does the Emma become the Dark One?"

"Simple. Fate made Henry the Author, and Emma chose to become the Dark One. But that event hasn't happened just yet."

Yet? Like as in the future? That confused him more, this showed the future as well. How did that-how could- it hurt to try to understand.

"How does that work?" He asked, noticing her green eyes were staring at him once again.

She pointed to the moment Belle and he had trekked the Enchanted Forest to resurrect his father. "This is the present time." No, no it wasn't.

"But this is before I died, that doesn't make any sense." Sunny gave Bae a knowing look.

"Do you really question the parallels of time? Time works different here. Backwards and forwards, everyone here stays the same, if they earned the right to be here." She ruffled the top of his messy hair, "And you, more than anybody have earned that right."

Okay, okay- just basically go with the flow. Don't question things out his understanding unless he wanted a headache. It touched his heart that she truly believed that he belonged here. It made him wonder though.

"What did you do to belong here?" He followed up quickly with, "if you don't mind me asking?" She looked away for a moment smiling coyly. It appeared she knew something more interesting than he did.

"I didn't. Baelfire I'm not dead."

"Both ways involve another." Hades revealed, "A heart specifically."

The demon child grimaced. Of course, it was something of that nature. Fate could really be a cruel mistress.

"It took a while, but my shadow had found that the people she called family, were not her own. She merely was a means to an end."

"Move it girl!" Macy scurried along the tableside, filling the jewel inlaid chalices with rich wine. First Lord Magnus's, his brother's wife, their son, lord Magnus's brother Tiberius and lastly her mother.

Cordelia sneered at the girl when she flounced away to the fireplace to check over the stewing vegetables. Too cheerful for her own good. She didn't like the wandering eyes of her husband and his brother. They stared at Macy like she was a piece of meat, frothing at the mouth like a hungry dog. The stupid child was woefully oblivious to the leering of her husband. They would purposely drop cutlery just to have her bend and retrieve it. They were like filthy, lusty animals. The girl was hardly something to look at, barely ripening for her age. Soon Magnus would make a move, pushing aside herself for the little brat.

That bottom feeder had already robbed her of some many other chances, she already paid her pence for this life. She bore Magnus a son, and she would be damned if-

"Mother stop!" Macy murmured as Cordelia plunged her hand into the boiling kettle. Fat, pathetic tears rolled down her daughter's cheeks. Despite feeling the withering heat from the pot, she held the girl's hand in the pot for a few seconds longer, for good measure. When she returned the girl's hand, her knuckles were scorched. Bones were almost visible on her fourth finger, it would scarred horrendously.

"We could burn our mouths you idiot girl. This has been cooking long enough." Macy bit her lip, trying to avoid making much noise. It would only be worse if she brought more attention to herself. She shouldn't have let the food cook for so long, the guests are getting hungry and restless.

Cordelia sat down smug as the others avoided Macaria's sniveling. Well deserved, she thought. That twit should be grateful she even tolerated her presence. A sea goddess, she had to forgo her magical life because of her.

The moment Cordelia stepped on land regret seeped into her mind. No longer as upset up about being abandoned, but utterly exhausted from the whole ordeal. She looked around the bustling sea port, it was dirty and dank. Curling her lip, seeing she was a few feet from a pirate sleeping in his own vomit and vermin fluttering in the opposite direction. She had to find someone to take care of her, man of sorts, but- she looked down at her growing stomach. Men of worth wouldn't want to provide for a bastard, in all honesty, she didn't want to provide for the child. Its father... he-he left her. Poseidon attempted to quell her feelings, her distrust and betrayal. But in her emotion and anger she made a rash decision to leave. She sauntered passed a pub trying direction in this gutter of a town. Due north, there were rolling hills that bathed in the sunlight. To east, a thick grove that lead towards Broceliande. Due West was her former home, the sea. And here she stood in the middle of it all in this, with no clue where to turn.

"Greetings lass." Her green eyes meet the bloodshot eyes of a seedy looking man. His breath smelt like rum, his waistcoat and frock slightly disheveled, but expensive looking. "Look at bit lost ay?" His eyes flourished on her brassiere long enough to understand the sudden attraction. She wasn't dressed like the other woman, nor was she a prude. This man thought of her as a working maid, a prostitute.

"Possibly." He chuckled pulling her close.

"Lord Magnus to your rescue my lovely."

She stared at her son, Marcus. He was certainly, average for a growing boy. He had been her ticket to a rather comfortable life despite the other problem. The smell of singed flesh made her wrinkle her nose. She slapped her daughter's hand, it smelt appalling. The problem dared to make another appearance.

"Boy." Magnus addressed his son, while staring at his wife's daughter, "Take her to the barn it's time for her chores." The bint sniffled at her dismissal. Cordelia smirked.

"But not to me, she was a prize to be had. I couldn't help myself, innocence with a golden soul and near black heart. She touched death in every waking moment, only to greet it each time as an old friend. A forgotten daughter." Hades sputtered.

In the hearts of all hearts, he knew there only could be one.

"Whose daughter?" Peter smirked knowingly, the king of hell was losing his composure. His just raised a brow. "Whose daughter?" Hades repeated, no longer in the mood for Pan's games. Peter decided to mock the impatience god, causing Hades' head to burst into his signature blue flames. "WHOSE DAUGHTER!?" Peter Pan smirked, he never failed. Hades as literally chomping at the bit trying to suss the information out of him.

"Of an Olympian of course, but she didn't know that." That statement did little to relieve the god, if anything it added wood to the already raging fire. Peter Pan looked expectedly at him, he wasn't sharing this little story for free of course.

"Both options are unlikely as the next. First option: you could use the living heart of another." Hades hadn't been jesting him when he said his options were unlikely. Living people did not come to the Underworld. He continued his story.

"One night they had gone too far. After I murdered her pseudo family, I brought her to Neverland."

"Hello Peter." She whimpered, as her feet skimmed the top of the water. She was cradling her face, hiding something terrible. She didn't know exactly how long it had been she found refuge on the abandoned dock. Pan suspected that quite some time had passed, her hair and clothes were slick and heavy from the rain. He sat down beside her, just as he done every night for the past year.

"Macy, let me have a look." He demanded, pushing past her hair and hands. He pulled his fingers back, they were thick with clotting blood. They had sliced into her face, a jagged line of marred skin came from the corner of her lips to the middle of her cheek. He waved his hand, only to grunt in displeasure. They dared to cut her, with a cursed blade no less. Her face would forever carry the scars that he could not heal. She began to cry, now relieved in being able to do so.

"I'm so ugly Peter! No one will have me." She leaned into her seething friend. Not so much for her pain, but he was angered at their audacity to hurt his property. He would make them pay. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, trying to stave off the rage.

"We can leave, I can finally take you to Neverland." He felt her shake head slightly, he frowned. "Why not?"

"They'll never let me go. Besides I couldn't leave Marcus, not after everything." He pondered for a moment, coming to a favorable conclusion, he would take the boy as well. He could always use another Lost boy.

"Wait here." Macy stumbled, as Peter disappeared. She caught herself roughly from falling. Her heart clenched, when she heard unholy screaming in the distance.

"Marcus!" She screeched, scrambling to her feet. The screaming continued. She tripped and stumbled across the muddy pathway back to home. "Marcus!" The noise got louder the closer to house she got. She was nearly there, the front door within eyesight. Suddenly, there was silence, an eerie silence. She slowed her pace, terrified of what she might see behind that door. She turned the brass knob. "Marcus?"

She whispered as she entered the house. She instantly covered her mouth, desperately trying to hold in her own horror. Peter's gaze met her own, a malicious smile seemed misplaced on his face. Bodies littered the floor around Peter's feet. She could tell immediately that they were all dead. She shuddered, trying to hold back a gut-wrenching sob. "Why?" She squeaked. Peter appeared before her.

"I did this for you. For Marcus." Her brother stared at the couple from the corner, he was scared stiff from what he had witnessed. Peter had ripped their shadows from their bodies. "They deserved it." He held her shoulders as she shook her head back and forth.

"No-" she weakly detested. "My family-"

"Is family supposed to carve your face up?" She sadly nodded, "you know if you would have screamed you could have bled out?" Her eyes widened, she hadn't realized. She hadn't screamed before because she knew her punishment was always worse if she did. She embraced Peter wholeheartedly, he had saved her. He had save her and Marcus. "No more tears Macy, where we are going, it will only be Sunny for now on."

Her revelation would have killed him, if he hadn't already been dead. Neal remembered the first time he really took notice of Sunny, she was a mystery wrapped up in an enigma.

Baelfire was memorized by the mysterious girl. A timid girl with a rudimentary smile carved across her porcelain skin. A walking contradiction. The girl, Sunny, was of pale complexion, dark snagged dreads, and bashful disposition. A stark contrast to what the name Sunny implied. Bae had imagined a vibrant spirit, with skin kissed by the gods and hair as golden as silk. As much as the other lost boys denied it, she was most likely, but unlikely, in a realistic sense, the truest treasure of Neverland. The whole notion just as jumbled as he thought of it.

Day after day, he watched her play with the flamingos. It was endearing to watch her sing and dance around the colorful birds. He never could witness such beauty with his father. She never took part in any of the activities the boys did. The only boys that would speak to her directly were Pan and his club wielding second-in-command Felix. She was virtually mute whenever she stumbled at camp. She would take or leave whatever she wanted or needed. During the nightly feasts and fires she never joined in, but rather sat with Peter as he played his pipes. Bae suspected that her face was flush after Pan spoke quietly beside while sitting on the log, he could never quite confirm whether it was true due to the colorful lick of the flames. Before long with her lithe hand clasped in his, Pan would drag her from sight. And every morning, before the flicker of the starry skies gave way to the blaze of the sunrise, Pan would reappear without a word mention about her.

One day, Baelfire gained the courage to approach Sunny while she was in camp.

"Why is your name Sunny?" The girl froze, it had been a long time since a regular lost boy had spoken to her. She turned, staring at the newest boy to the island, Bae. Peter had told her that he was important, he would eventually lead them to the heart of the truest believer. She had debated whether she would reply, she had to admit that he was of the courteous sort. His brown eyes matched her own green stare. She opened her mouth, but before she could answer, several of the others had answered for her.

"Because she's pale!" Nibs shouted, the boys snickered.

"Yeah! She's always first to get burned." The younger of the twins, Devon, added.

"I thought it was because Pan named her?" Tootles corrected. A spirited chuckle divided the surrounding group of lost boys. A boy with bright green eyes was staring down in amusement.

"Right you are Tootles, right you are." He ruffled the younger boy's hair. "To put it simply, she's the light of this island." Her eyes bored into his own devilish countenance, "And if you get too close you're bound to get burned."

"How is that possible? Pan-Pan hadn't killed you?" Her face contorted in pain. Almost as if she had bit into a sour lemon.

"Is that what he told you?" She asked, her voice cracking. She was upset.

"No, but I had assumed. The boys hadn't spoke of you, and neither did Pan." She laid back in the dirt, staring at the cloudless sky. There had been a pregnant pause between his statement and her pondering.

"I had been sent away." Neal sighed, all he felt like he was doing was asking her questions. But she had always been less forthcoming. "Alive."

"Why?"

"You cannot stay on Neverland if you're no longer a child." She practically whispered. Neal was beside himself, what did she mean? Here she was, as young as the day he left her behind. This truth was beyond him.

"I don't understand Sunny." Turning slightly, she smiled sadly at him, a fat tear rolling down her marred cheek.

"Sometimes I don't either." That day still haunted her now.

She was afraid, which was the first time in a long time. She clutched his hand examining it close rather than look into his eyes. He dropped his playful grin when she averted her gaze. Sunny never shied from his attention, she had done something. He could feel the betrayal in his bones. The tips on his fingers dug into her palm. She relished the contact, his touch was soft as his temper was malicious. Absent in thought, her other hand brushed her stomach unknowingly, cradling her secret.

"No!" Peter snarled, ripping his hand from Sunny's grip. She stared crestfallen at his disgust. "Not another one." He bitterly grounded out. With a swipe of his hand, all of Sunny's trinkets smashed to the treehouse floor.

"Stop." She cried, trying to piece together a shell necklace the younger boys had made. He glared at her bumbling attempts to repair the damage. But nothing would fix her. His magic disintegrated the shells out of spite. "Why, Peter? What did I do?" He held back, ready to strike her for her sniveling. He detested it before when Fiona had her moods, but he had no patience now for this problem to rise again. He glared at her growing stomach- she bared a death sentence. She was defying Neverland's magic. That is what she did! The end of their arrangement, their relationship! She was his! He was supposed to decide when it ended, not her. Not by the bastard growing underneath her skin.

"This is all your fault! You did this!" He thundered, just as a crack of lightening brighten the rapidly darkening sky. This side of Peter frightened her, his green eyes screamed murder. Eyes that never had before turned on her. She crawled on her knees across the uneven floorboards. Burs burrowing into her legs. He snatched her hand painfully between his own, no one touched him unless he wanted it.

"Please Peter, I'll do anything. I love you." Crystal tears dropped from her hauntingly emerald stare. Love? A pathetic construct. It did nothing but bind your weaknesses for another to exploit. With his other hand, he examined her snaggled hair weaved with beads and feathers. Her skin as beautiful as porcelain plates, that someone had cracked. The blistering red scars and jagged lips reminding him of her pain, and his failure to heal them. While sometimes hard to look at, they left the softest kisses on his skin.

And now- He would no longer be able to feel their presence. She ruined everything. Disappointment was an adult emotion. A game he thought he had left behind.

"Shadow." He called, noting the confused look in her sparkling eyes. His black counterpart materialized from the storm brewing outside. "Take her where she belongs." He ordered, inciting her grief. The shadow took place of his own grip as he took several paces back. She forced his hand, jeopardizing his place in youth. But he reminded her, he never failed.

The other boys never spoke of it. The very screams that shuttered the island. The shrill cries that pierced the veil of sudden storm. The disappearance of Sunny signified her death in their minds.

"I thought girls were not your sort- it was called- the Lost Boys, wasn't it?" Hades stumbled over his confusion, trying to understand Pan's logic.

"Immortal beings were always a fascination of mine. Hence the mermaids, the wingless fairy and her." Peter hadn't been the only one interested in the girl. And at this moment it was still the case. He paused again, an arch of his eyebrow challenging the millennials old God.

"The final option to restart your heart: you must have your true love's kiss. Their heart beating for you will restart your own." The boy's eyes narrowed, the unlikeliness was palpable. Peter Pan didn't love, and he couldn't bring the one who loved him down to the Underworld. It was magically impossible. Forcing opposite sides of magic to work together would be too volatile. Sunny could never reach this plane, just as her father could not reach the other, their powers, their destinies did not intermix and never could intermix. People either came here, or went to the place of the blessed, neither of which Peter or her dear ol' father would ever breach. Hades had to have something else to give him, those could not be his only options.

"As much as she played with the sea creatures, I had incorrectly assumed she was the offspring of another. Until one day, I saw what she had done to the shadows."

"Had done?"

"She had sent some off to a certain place, another island in which they could make peace." If Hades' heart hadn't already quit beating, it would have stopped altogether at those words. The Island of the Blessed. The goddess of a blessed death. He had spent so much time looking for her, trying to bring her home, to him. "And that's when, I had decided to make her mine." Hades eyes now narrowed at the boy, what had he done? "In retrospect, a perverse blight on my part. Unnatural desires of flesh for a forever boy."

"Will it hurt?" Her face was flush, her lips and scars puckered with excitement. Peter could feel a smile form on his lips, of course, she would be in pain her first time. His fingers slinked under her tunic once again. She gasped, "Peter?" He could feel the heat of her body move through the tips of his exploring digits. This was-wasn't right. A boy shouldn't feel way, his body pulsing with needs of a man. But he relished the power she emitted, the power she displayed. She had blessed the shadows to an entirety of peace. She had power over death itself. Something that Peter had only dreamt of being able to do. He looked around the two of them, they were on one of the many beaches and he had her current pinned against the trunk of a tree. Not romantic for the girl's first time, but this would be far from the being the only time. He would have ample opportunities to make it up to her, over and over again. For now, he was going to take what only she could provide; her untainted womanhood.

"Only for a moment." He purred.

"But you can't age on Neverland! How-how could-"

Before Neal could ask, he could hear rustling in the field behind them. Sunny smiled as she heard her child's laughter. A little boy, maybe five or six years old jumped out of the long weeds laughing and screaming as he jumped onto Sunny. "Hey, hey baby," she whispered, attempting to calm the boy down, he was a squirming ball of energy, "Do you remember who I told you was coming?" The little sandy brunet excitedly nodded his head.

"Bae!" The boy knew his name. Turning to Neal he stuck his chubby little hand out. He couldn't help but smile at the little boy, his laughter and excitement was contagious. It reminded Neal a bit of how he imagined Henry would have been at that age. He clasped his hand, around the little boy's. Taking note of similar tunic and pulsing forest green eyes.

"Bae, I would like you to meet my son, McKinley. He's your uncle."

"What did you do to her?" Rage consuming his dark soul, if this foul boy did anything to hurt her, he was-

With a smirk, still in place, Peter revealed what he did. "Despite all odds, and time standing still. She found herself swelling with my child. The goddess in her." He assumed at least. "There has to be other options?" He almost said it too casually, as if what he did to her had little consequence.

"What did you do to her and the child?" Hades ignored his question completely.

"Information for information. A deal I believe we made?" Peter rebuttal.

"What did you do?" Hades demanded again, disdain practically dripping with each word. Peter shrugged, unrelenting on his side of the deal. Several moments of silence passed between the two before they both had come to the same conclusion, they had reached an impasse, which neither were willing to cross any farther for the other. Hades stared at the green-eyed façade before storming his way out of the shop.

One way or another, he was going to see his dear Macaria. He just needed to force Zelena's hand, for her to see him for who he was. He was going to get his daughter and get his revenge on his brothers.