A/N: Okay so this is my first Pan story ever. Lemme give you a few disclaimers/warnings. If you are a fan of the Disney version... this may not be for you. It's definitely adult and I don't want you to hate me for growing up the boys. If, after this warning, you still want to continue, do so at your own risk. This story is sort of an AU but not really. You also need to know that in this story the fairies can be small but are most often human-sized. Um... I think that's all for now. Please enjoy!

* .* . * . . *

"What happens if all the fairies die?"

"Neverland dies too."

"And if Neverland dies?"

"I suppose we grow up… Get old… And die as well. But that will never happen."

Peter remembered the day as if it were just the day before. The day the first fairy died.

No one thought much of it at the time. After all, not everything could last forever. But then came the next… and the one after… Until one by one their precious fairies dwindled to nothing. No on understood why the fairies were dying. No one knew if it was natural or if someone wanted all the fairies dead. But, then again, who in Neverland would want to kill their perfect home?

Peter stayed with the fairies til the end, until the final, beautiful fairy woman took her last breath.

They were Titania's last words that haunted him the most. "This isn't the end, Peter," she gasped. "Find the lost one. She'll heal Neverland."

At the time he didn't think much of it. There were still so many fairies left. But now, now that their homes sat empty and their magic no longer filled the air, Peter wondered what she really meant by that. What lost one? Weren't they all lost boys?

He spent years wondering. He was no longer a lost boy, but a lost man. Without the fairies' magic to rejuvenate them, Peter and his lost boys found themselves growing older. Oh, not quickly, but rather as a boy should. A slow progression from naive child into curious and rather learned young man.

The lack of fairy dust turned all things mortal, save the mermaids who kept mostly to themselves in their lagoon. Peter expected nothing could quite turn the mermaids into anything normal, but they had their uses nonetheless.

Even the Picaninny tribe began to age. First the older, adult clansmen, and then eventually their children. Some had grandchildren now, in what Peter assumed was a natural progression of Mainland living. Without their fairies, Neverland was just another part of the Mainland.

He didn't mind growing up as much as he thought he would. There were very fun things about learning what adults knew. Games and chases might have been fun as a boy, but these new kind of chases and games were even better. They had a much more enjoyable ending, too.

Catching Picaninny women became the newest game between the Lost Boys and the Redskins. The boys didn't mind so much being caught in return, either.

Peter checked the sky and sighed. Any time now, the Redskins would release Nibs, who they caught the day before. He wasn't too concerned about him. Nibs was more warrior than boy anymore. The Picaninny tribe doted on him.

What did worry him were those few sentences Titania gave him so long ago. The lost one. She'll heal neverland. Did she mean a fairy they didn't know about? Surely not. How did one lose a fairy?

Still, he couldn't sit around and do nothing. While Neverland died, so did everything in it. He loved his home too much to let it go to waste. The waterfalls didn't cascade as quickly anymore. The trees didn't wave as cheerily. Something had to be done, and as the only one who seemed to care about his land, Peter was dead set on doing it.

If he had to fly to the Mainland to find some obscure fairy creature, he would do it. He just needed to find a bit more fairy dust. A difficult thing when all the fairies were gone.

* .* . * . . *

Fable flicked a long braid over her shoulder and spun to retrieve the peppermint stick that the little girl pointed to. It was a favorite among the younger patrons of the shop, so it shouldn't really surprise her.

With a wide smile, Fable set the sweet in a brown paper bag and bent to hold it out to the child. "Don't eat it all at once." She flicked a glance up to the mother, a woman with a disapproving look on her face.

Fable quickly glanced over her own appearance. She didn't think she looked so bad. Everything was covered at least, by her colorful long skirt and whimsical, billowy blouse. No matter, she had other things to see to. Like putting a smile on the small child's face.

The little girl eyed Fable curiously before she reached out to snag the bag. "Are you a princess, miss?"

"No, no." Fable laughed, a tinkering, bell-like sound that many had complimented her on before. "There aren't any princesses here, except you." She tapped the girl's nose. "Why ever would you think so?"

"You're very pretty. You must be a princess." The little girl insisted.

The mother snatched the little girl's arm. "Ingrid, that's enough." She poked her nose in the air precociously and stormed out with her daughter beside her.

Fable sighed and fluttered her way back behind the counter. There were shelves to straighten and candy to taste. Who said a clerk at the local candy shop couldn't sample her favorites now and again?

Another giggle filled the empty space as Fable sneaked a chocolate from its bin and placed it on the center of her tongue. Never in her life had she ever tasted anything as wonderful as chocolate. Fable knew when to enjoy the small things and when to let things go. Chocolate was something she would enjoy forever.

Her nimble fingers set to work straightening bins that visitors had disrupted, aligning shelves they had disarranged. People could be so inconsiderate sometimes, but Fable didn't mind. It gave her something to do while she hummed.

Tunes had always come easily to her, even more so when she learned the wild ways of her soul. She wasn't a woman to be tamed. She wanted to run barefoot in meadows and lift her face so the sun could kiss it. She wanted to bask with flowers and be as wild and free as she could be. Do whatever she wanted.

But, alas, Fable was stuck in a London candy shop instead. Not that she minded it. It was carefree enough. She needn't worry about anyone's opinions, because the children loved her. That was all that mattered. As long as the children were happy, Fable could be happy too.

She learned a long time ago that she couldn't rely on people for her own happiness. Perhaps if she had known her mother or father. If she had grown up in a loving family instead of an orphanage, then she could rely on others for her own happiness. But Fable learned early that she could only rely on herself and should only follow her own dreams. Nothing else would do.

Fable turned to look out into the dingy grey street. This wasn't where she belonged. Part of her always knew that. Her heart longed for something else. Something more.

Her dreams spoke of something far beyond her imagination, but Fable could never quite place what it was. Something in her demanded she seek it out, that she travel until she stumbled across whatever it was her soul demanded of her.

There was something out there desperate for her to find it, desperate to embrace her as its own, but Fable didn't have a clue where to look. And so, until the universe brought her a sign or a sword, she would work in her bright little candy shop and bring smiles to the dark faces of London's youth.