This is a crossover of all the Disney films and overall fairytales; it's main focus is Peter Pan, however. I'm thinking I might write side stories of other characters and movies that all tie together into the main plot, but we'll see about that in the future. The main ship in this is Peter/Alice but there will be some Peter/Wendy seen through flashbacks.

Overall summary: Peter's been battling a lot of things; depression, the girl he let slip away, the new girl catching his eye and the constant jeering from James. When he realizes there are kids facing their own demons - kids who need him, need his help, need his advice - he sets out in search of them all, helped along by the shadow of his past. One day, his shadow leads him to a detention room, full of guys with personal, emotional and physical problems - and he decides to save these kids from themselves and show them that there's a lot more to life than grades, girls and the social ladder. All you gotta have is a lot of faith, trust and 'pixie dust' (and a guitar).

We're searching

For something,

Just trying

To make it happen;

We listen

To no one,

Don't forget we won't forgive;

They'll write a story of the lives we lived.

-Fucked Up Kids, The Maine

Peter groaned, tugging his grey beanie over his stubburn redbrown hair, staring through his bangs out the windshield of his car. He dragged his groan out and slammed the meat of his palm down against the horn, blaring it for an unnessicarily long time. He rolled his caramel eyes and proceeded in hitting the horn until the front door of his house opened and two forms rushed down the crooked stairs.

There was an arguement over who recieved shot-gun outside the passenger door and Peter groaned loudly, hitting the horn a few more times. "Let's go-o-oo," He moaned as the elder of the two forms flipped him the bird through the window. He laughed heartily as the door was yanked open and the elder slid into the seat, rolling her eyes at the grumbles from the backseat as the younger buckled his seatbelt.

The elder, who just so happened to be Peter's cousin, Ariel Ericson, turned around in her seat to try to peer over the younger's tall head to scout out any cars passing. She cursed the younger boy's height and told him to stoop down; the boy oblidged, awkwardly putting his head between his knobbly tan knees. Even like this, the boy was too tall to see over. She tried to see over his back and bright orange curls, finally giving up and turning back to Peter, shrugging. Peter adjusted his mirrors and pulled out, on their way to the first day of school at Disney High.

The boy, who had straightened up as much as he could with his head grazing the car roof at every bump on the road, stared ahead in silence; normally he was very talkative and friendly.

"Hey, Herc, what's on your mind?" Peter asked, his eyes glancing to the rear view mirror where he could see the pained expression on the younger boy's face. The boy looked up, his blue eyes wide and distracted, as if caught with his hand deep within the mouth of a cookie jar.

"Um... First day jitters," Herc mumbled, running a hand nervously through his curls. He proceeded in looking sick as Peter tried to comfort him.

"C'mon, bud, high school isn't so bad," Peter tried, eyes flicking to the road and then back to his younger cousin's concerned gaze.

Ariel laughed, flicking her eyelashes with mascara, staring at her reflection with a compact mirror. "Like you would know, Peter," She fluttered her eyelashes, turning her blue gaze on him.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, turning his attention on her. "What's that supposed to mean?" He jerked the wheel, causing her to very nearly ruin the bright red lips she was currently drawing on.

She growled, irritated by Peter's behavior. "Out of everyone, you're the one to give Herc advice? He'll get eaten alive."

Herc gulped; Ariel turned in her seat and batted her eyes at him, looking over his awkward appearance. His arms and legs were lenghty and complete with knobby knees and elbows; his big blue eyes were pretty but full to the brim with fear; his orange curls were unruly and resistant to styling products. She sighed and turned away, running a hand through her own bottle-red hair. "I'd be surprised if you survived the end of today," She tossed her words of 'comfort' over her shoulder carelessly and hopped out of Peter's car, not waiting for it come to a complete stop.

...

Peter parked his car in the student lot and with some convincing, both for Herc and himself, he and his younger cousin walked to the school building together. Herc made it his job not to look anyone in the eye and was doing a mighty fine job at it, too, until his eyes caught the sight of a beautiful girl with long brunette hair, speaking avidly with a group of darker skinned girls all with similar fashion choice. Herc was snapped out his open-mouthed daze when Peter ran into his best friend and decided Herc needed to at least know another familar face other than his sister and cousin.

Herc was first aquainted with Tink Bell, Peter's friend since grade school. Because of their long friendship, this hadn't been their first meeting, although even after this many years, it was their offical introduction, as everytime Herc had seen Tink around the house she normally didn't stay long as her and Peter normally left together and didn't return until dark hours in the night.

Tink was your average senior - except for the part where she wasn't. She was known for her occasional streak of anger but otherwise sarcastic and fun attitude, which had really been the result of how much time she spent with Peter. She had a short bob of blonde that was almost always pulled into a bun on the top of her head and she had bangs that slid across her eyes, an inch from covering her eyebrows. Her eyes were bright blue and almost always rung with heavy black eyeliner; they also displayed her overall emotion, no matter what it was or how much she was trying to keep it hidden. She smirked at Herc and he had to fight himself internally to not back away.

The early bell rang and Peter wished his cousin luck before they all split in seperate directions, except for Peter and Tink, who walked off to their first class together. Tink glanced over her shoulder to the retreating form of Peter's cousin and whispered to Peter, " ... How long d'you think he'll last?"

Peter smiled, "He's tough. You just gotta believe in him."

...

Peter glanced around his first period class and already wanted to sign his will with a smiley face. He took a seat as far in the back as he could, Tink following behind. They both took their seats behind their desks and began to pull out their class supplies from their bags. Tink turned in her seat, raising an eyebrow at Peter, who bit into the end of his pen. She followed his gaze and almost groaned aloud.

What - who - met Tink's gaze was, of course, Alice Caroll, who else? She'd been the center of Peter's attention since freshmen year and no matter how many times Tink pointed out how she hadn't a clue of his existence, Peter never listened. He was head-over-heels for everything about her - the long blonde hair, the wide cheerful blue eyes, the headband that held back her bangs, the way she didn't ignore her brother as Ariel did hers ...

It made Tink sick. Granted, this was going to be her fourth year hearing Peter fantasize over her and not do anything about it. She wasn't jealous - that boat had sailed a long time ago - no, she was afraid for Peter. She was afraid another girl would come along and break his heart and she wasn't going to stand around and watch it happen. She'd watched Peter fall down the deep dark hole of depression and slowly claw himself out, his body scarred deep with emotional and physical marks of hurt and pain and even now, she wasn't sure if he'd stepped away from the edge of the hole or if he was waiting for the right moment to hop back in.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face and he blinked, turning to Tink, arching an eyebrow in question. She shrugged as two more of their friends took the seats before them.

In front of Peter was Johnny "Mad Hatter" Ford, who swiveled in his seat to begin to talk to him and Tink, his legs crossed over the metal chair's and arms resting on the chair back. Johnny was the go-to guy with everything you needed - which was why his clothes always had the dull scent of pot stuck to them and why he was always so secrective of where he learned his information. His eyes always looked wild and deranged but other than that, he was a pretty awesome kid who could supply you with the latest trends, rumors, drugs, medication and anything else you needed. He was really only popular for the drugs, which he would supply only for the right price and back in the last stall of the boys' bathroom where he'd been setting up shop since sophmore year. Oh, yes, and the nickname - it was the effects of an embarassing haircut that was still a hit on the internet that Johnny had tried to cover up with hats more obnoxious than the bright red of his hair; after a while, it had become more of a trend than a defense against the constant torment and since his hair was barely identifiable under his hat choice, they almost forgot about it. His outrageous color scheme in his clothing was also an eye-sore in a crowd, if you happened to miss the hair and hat; he wore extravagant colors and oddly hued jeans and different colored converse to dazzle the eye. He was quite the character; it was a mystery why he'd chosen Peter and Tink as friends.

Beside Johnny was Lily Tigris, a senior of darker complexion and a kind heart, her black hair long and silky that she'd done into a thick braid down her back. She almost always had her leather beaded satchel with her and normally wore clothes that consisted of tans, reds and blues; rarely did she step out of that color scheme although when she did, she defiantly pulled it off and caught the boys' eye as they were so accustomed to seeing her in her comfort zone. They weren't going to complain, though; what was there to complain about? Her full lips and chocolate brown eyes were enough to make anyone go wild, but the flutter of her lashes and rosy pigment of her cheeks and her straightforward way of talking ... She was more than any guy could ask for. Alas, she was no Alice. She was no Wendy.

Peter looked away, his thumbs running subconciously over his wrists that he frantically covered with the sleeves of his green hoodie. He glanced across the room, catching Alice's eye. She smiled and he felt himself smile back - the only difference in their smiles was the pain etched in Peter's as he dug his nail into the flesh of his wrist and tore his gaze away to stare at the floor which met the unpleasant sight of purposely-scuffed Jordons.

Peter reluctantly looked up; past the manufactured holey jeans, the untidily buttoned red-and-black plaid shirt that ended in cuffs over a plain black crewneck, over the tattooed forearms and the ear piercing of a dangling hook until his eyes locked on the two accusing blue eyes and sly smirk under the scruffy black shadow of manhood and carelessly styled black hair. Peter stared head-on at James Hook, anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He tried to hold the anger back, clenching his jaw and raising an eyebrow high in question.

James smirked, his arms crossed. His henchmen stood behind him, awaiting his beck and call; Peter could already see the sneering faces of Dylan "Starkey" Stark and his younger brother, Alfred "Alf" Stark, who seemed to have more control of his lust. James dipped down so that he was level with Peter; Peter pushed off of his desk to meet him half-way. They both glared at each other and James growled under his breath, "Glad to see you're on your feet again, mate. My hand's completely healed if you were wondering," James flexed his left hand for emphasis and they stalked to their seats near Alice and the cheerleaders. Alice shot Peter an apolegetic smile before turning her attention to the teacher at the front of the room.

Johnny, Lily and Tink glanced sideways at Peter; he slowly sat back in the seat, suddenly numb with lack of feeling. He could hear the blood churn in his ears and he wanted to punch something until his knuckles were just raw skin and blood, but he didn't. He wouldn't. He'd promised he'd never do it again.

Tink picked up her pen and tossed it at Peter, jolting him back to the present. He looked up, startled; Peter seemed to realize he was in class and glanced around, bearing his senses. Tink rolled her eyes, turning her gaze back to the teacher, who was explaining class procedures.

This'll be a long year.