The group weaved through the trees, heading toward Hook's ship. The sense of relief among them was palpable, as they had finally rescued Henry.
Suddenly, Emma halted, and stretched her arm out to the side to prevent the others from continuing. "What's the hold up?" snapped Regina. "Shut up, look," Emma hissed, gesturing toward a large, thorny bush. At its foot lay a figure dressed in dark green , curled tightly on its side. Regina backed away a few paces, holding Henry tightly. Emma stepped forward, stopping a few feet in front of the figure.
Hesitantly, she spoke: "…Tink? Are you alright? Tink – Tinkerbell?" Not receiving a response, she carefully reached out a hand and gently touched the fairy's shoulder. "Are you injured, Tink?"
The fairy raised her head from where it had been tucked into her chest and obscured by her blonde curls, and they could see that her face was covered in dirt and shiny with tears. She blinked Emma, confused, barely appearing to register the group standing silently behind her. "He doesn't believe in me," she whispered, her voice sounding strangely empty. "Peter doesn't believe in me. I'm nothing."
Behind her, Emma heart Hook shift and sigh heavily. Not sure how to respond, she kneeled and squeezed Tinkerbell's shoulder softly. "Is there...is there anything we could do to help you?" she asked. Tinkerbell's lips twisted into something reminiscent of a smile, but suddenly she let out a choked gasp and her hands flew to her chest, pressed firmly against her heart. Her eyes remained screwed tightly shut against the pain for several seconds, before she relaxed slightly and opened her eyes. "The only one who can help me now is Peter, and he certainly won't. I…I don't have much longer," he answered, her voice cracked and strained. "It's just part of being a fairy, you know," she added quietly, perhaps trying to reassure herself, not Emma. "There's always a price."
"But we can't just leave you here!" cried Henry, tugging his arm loose from Regina's grip. "You helped us! You helped my moms save me from Peter Pan!" His face was pale and his eyes wide as he looked down at the fairy.
"And no one ever stabs Peter Pan in the back and lives to tell the tale," she answered. "I know Peter like I know myself, I knew – "
A look of abject horror crossed Tinkerbell's face as she stared at her foot. Golden particles of dust were slowly rising from her toes, one by one, until all at once her foot and calf crumbled swiftly into a cloud of golden, glittery powder. The wind carried the dust away as she scrambled backward on her hands, frantically trying to hold her leg away from the ground until she backed into the rough trunk of a tree. "No, no, no, no, not yet," she whispered hysterically, her face twisted with horror. "Please, not yet."
"What was that, fairy?" asked Regina slowly, her gaze fixed on the air where there had been a leg just moments before. Tinkerbell didn't answer for several seconds, breathing quickly as she stared at her feet. "Where did you think pixie dust came from?" she asked finally, her tone absent and distracted, her voice rather higher than normal. Suddenly, she looked up, and seemed for the first time to really notice that she wasn't alone. "Please leave," she entreated, her eyes wide and pleading, shining with unshed tears. "Please. Leave me."
"But we can't just leave you here to – to disintegrate!" Emma protested, looking around at the rest of the group for support. "Tink, you saved Henry! Without you, we never would have found Pan's camp and Henry might – we can't just let you die alone!" The fairy was shaking her head furiously before Emma had even finished her sentence, her hands digging and twisting into the dirt in her frustration. "Go. Please. I want to be alone," her voice cracked with emotion. Emma opened her mouth to protest again, but was stopped by a hand gripping her shoulder forcefully. She turned, and found Hook shaking his head, pulling her back gently. "Listen to her, Swan, and respect her. It's all we can do for her," he whispered in her ear. She looked at him, saw the tension in his jaw and he gazed past her at the fairy on the ground, and remembered that he had known Tinkerbell in the past, that they had been friends, of a sort. She deflated, and turned back. "If you truly want to be alone, then we'll let you," she said, stretching her words as though she wasn't quite sure she should be saying such a thing. "But Tinkerbell, truly….thank you," The fairy nodded, avoiding everyone's eyes as Charming, Snow, Hook, Henry and Regina all echoed her thanks.
"That's what fairies are supposed to do, isn't it? Help people," she responded with a little half shrug, blinking rapidly as she steadfastly avoided looking down at her missing leg. "Go."
The group turned and left, silently continuing their trek to the ship. Under the tree, the fairy's fingers dug deeply into the dirt against the pain in her chest, until suddenly her arms dissipated, dissolving into clouds of glittering pixie dust. The fairy released a keening, choked sob as she looked in disbelief at the dust that had been her arms, burying her face in the dirt as she sobbed. A wind rustled through the leaves of the trees and bushes, and the fairy crumbled all at once as the wind touched her body, leaving behind only a small mass of floating, golden dust. In seconds, the pixie dust disappeared, carried through Neverland by the breeze.
Hidden behind a tree, a solemn-faced Peter Pan backed away, and turned, slowly winding his way back to camp.