Started: April 12, 2016.

Summary: Peter Pan is dying, and staying on Neverland, a world of his own creation, surely isn't doing him any favors. He's down to week left, and safe to say, Pan's had enough of it. He gathers his Lost Boys one night and it isn't long before he works his magic. A bright light and a strong wind later, the group of boys find themselves in the middle of a forest, but it's not just any forest. They find themselves in Sherwood Forest, or, as Pan likes to call it, New Neverland.

Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan from OUAT, nor do I own Robin Hood. But I do own the plot concerning this story. ;)

Prologue

Peter Pan was not a happy camper.

With his death around the corner, Pan tried to keep a positive outlook on things. He couldn't say it'd helped any, though he had succeeded on weirding his Lost Boys out, if that had been his plan. And it wasn't.

As his second toughest Lost Boy, Rufio, admitted feeling a few chills down his back at Pan's behavior, Pan decided enough was enough. "Watch over them," he muttered to Felix. "I'll visit the shadow again for answers."

Felix only responded with a single nodding of his head, which Pan appreciated. Pan stood from his seat at the fire, surveyed the camp of dancing boys one last time, and stalked off through the trees for Skull Rock.

Uneasy scenarios raced through Pan's mind at the thought of Skull Rock. That cold, chilly rock-of-an-island brought shivers down the back of even an immortal deity like Pan. Although he was in control of everything on Neverland, Skull Rock was an exception, and for obvious reasons. First, an hourglass thrice as big as well as older than him stood at the pinnacle of the cave. The golden sands inside represented the time Pan had left before he died... which Pan couldn't afford to mess with. One wrong slip-up, one mistake, and the immortal deity would fall toward the netherworld. On the other hand, if Pan were to wait out until the point in time the last piece of sand fell from the hourglass, Pan would die as well.

Pan had two options: do something about it and die, or don't do something about it and still die. They weren't good odds, but Pan didn't mind it. He didn't mind one bit.

Luckily, Pan had done something about it sooner rather than later. He'd went with the secret third option: ask the hourglass's owner about a way to counter the time until his death. The owner hadn't been willing to answer at first, but Pan had managed to weed it out of him eventually. He hadn't seen him since then, but he had to hope the owner hadn't changed his mind. Especially not when everything was falling well according to plan.

At the sight of Skull Rock all over again, a shiver went through Pan's body even though the dusk breezes weren't particularly cold. He climbed over the hill and made his way down to the shore. The sand was still warm from the almost-gone sun, reminding Pan of the times he and his Lost Boys had taken to the beaches for a swim during the afternoons, but that memory was gone as quickly as it came. Those were different times, back when Pan wasn't so worried about time, when Pan hadn't cared for his legacy, and when the hourglass was still more than half-filled.

Focusing on his destination a ways across the water, Pan willed himself to rise in the air. His body felt weightless, his view of Neverland broader. Pan forced a confident smile and flew for the cave in the distance.

His landing was something no shorter than perfect. Years of mastering his magic had its perks, after all, but years of avoiding Skull Rock hadn't. Now, being back at this place, Pan could remember why. The place radiated darkness and despair, as if the shadow had decided to take up residence there. It was so unsettling, Pan even declared it out of bounds to the Lost Boys, too, and he quite preferred to keep it that way now that he'd had the refresher.

Pan made his way up the stairs carved out at the end of the cave and to the pinnacle, where the hourglass counting down to his death stood. He couldn't keep from avoiding the colossal object; it was as if his eyes were glued to it. He could only notice the few sands left falling down the thin middle - maybe six or seven handfuls, but by the amount currently descending, it seemed like four. Pan would hardly make it through the week with that left... but he wouldn't worry. His plan was still successful. He'd have the heart of the truest believer soon. He made sure of that, but if the shadow had changed its mind...

Pan painfully averted his eyes from the hourglass. "Shadow," he said instead. "You called me here."

"Correct," croaked out an eerie voice in reply. It crackled even more than a bad frequency, and the echoes around the cave certainly did it no favors. "I'm sure you remember what I told you 215 years ago?"

Pan had trouble swallowing. "Hard to forget."

A black mass of smoke in a familiar yet crude shape of Pan appeared by the stairs. Its unblinking white orbs bore daggers at Pan. Its eyes narrowed then, and it flew as fast as one of the strongest winds on Neverland to hover by the top of the hourglass, at least fifteen feet in the air.

With a swift gesture to the glowing, marigold sands, it hissed out, "You've a week left."

But Pan wouldn't accept this. "You told me two weeks yesterday," he reminded it.

"A week," it simply said.

"Yesterday - "

"A week."

"And today - "

"A week."

Pan grounded his jaw. "And the heart of the truest believer? The savior's so - ?"

"A week."

His eye twitched dangerously. "Yesterday you told me my plan would work. Which is it, shadow?"

The shadow floated down slowly until it was eye-level with Pan, its white orbs glowing brighter than usual, threatening Pan to back down. "Your immortality was always temporary," it returned, its tone blunt and harsh. "There is no forever in Never - "

"Neverland is a place where all dreams come true," Pan stated, his mouth a thin line. "All anyone has to do is wish it."

"All any child," the shadow corrected. "Peter Pan, you are no child."

The shadow was right about that. Pan held back any retorts. Instead, he said, "I will find a way to stop this hourglass. I don't need the heart of the truest believer."

"All attempts are futile. You cannot stop fate."

"I stopped it once as Malcolm. I will stop it again as Pan."

"No man alive has stopped fate, but many have prolonged it."

"It's your luck I am no man, then. Peter Pan never fails."

"One week. No more, no less. Spend your time wisely," the shadow simply said. Before Pan could respond, it flew back, circled around the hourglass once, and into the night.

Pan released a breath he'd unintentionally been holding. He took one more look at the few handfuls of sand still barely hanging above the thin middle, and with that was off for his thinking tree. He was in need of a solution now more than ever.

Time was quiet for Pan except for the occasional bird chips and animals scurrying across the forest floor. When he heard his first pair of footsteps and familiar voice, the sky had changed from a calm night to an early morning crimson, the few rays of morning sun just peaking over the mountains.

"Thought I'd find you here," the boy said. He switched his club to his other hand, sitting down next to Pan. He wore a dark hood low over his face, but Pan had no trouble discerning his worried glance. "Any news from the shadow?"

Pan shook his head, sighing. "Not much. The savior's son doesn't hold the key anymore. I'm..." He shuddered at the thought. "I'm down to a week left."

"We've spent years looking for a cure in every crack and crevice Neverland has to offer," the boy said. "I don't think it's on Neverland, Peter. I think we've been looking in the wrong place is all."

Pan's gaze was glued to the ground. "If it's not on Neverland, it's not on anywhere."

"Any leads on anything else, then?"

"None. We just need more time. And time is one thing we don't have."

"If the savior's son doesn't hold the heart of the truest believer, maybe someone else does. If it means you live, I'd be willing - "

"No!" Pan blurted out. He turned to look into the boy's eyes. "You can't seriously be thinking about that, Felix!"

But the boy didn't meet his glare. "It was a last-ditch idea."

"I'm not sacrificing any of my Lost Boys, especially you. How will the Lost Boys manage when I'm gone? There has to be another way."

The two thought for a while in silence. It was a few moments before the taller boy, Felix, broke the peace.

"We could leave the island."

Pan scowled. "My magic is limited to the real world. Who know what dangers are out there after 215 years of being out of touch with it?"

"I never said we'd go to the real world."

Pan looked up to see a small smile on Felix's face. "Where, then?"

"I'm as out of touch with the world as you are," Felix confessed. "You're asking the wrong person."

"The shadow said there's no cure. What makes you so sure there is?"

"I just know," Felix said with a shrug.

Pan regarded him with subtle skepticism. "I've sent out Greg and Tamara in countless locations. Wendy's brothers... All have returned empty-handed. Tell me, what does that suggest, Felix?"

"It suggests a wrong location," Felix stated. "It's not in urban places. What about more rural ones?"

"Magic cures aren't found so easily in, say, a forest."

Felix smirked. "How? Have you been there?"

"My shadow has," Pan admitted. "Nothing worthy reporting back, though."

"What about witches? Wizards? Sorcerers? Mermaids, even?"

Pan cracked a smile at that. "The world has long surpassed its magical age. The only magic mermaids have is their..." Pan raised his hands and said in air quotes, "singing. Even if we found a wizard, how would he reverse a curse bestowed upon me far longer than he was born?"

"I don't know," Felix confessed. "But leaving Neverland is our best bet if we're to find this cure." He stood from his place by Pan and offered him a hand. "Whatever your decision, it's no use overthinking on an empty stomach. C'mon. The Lost Boys have breakfast."

Pan frowned but accepted Felix's gesture. "That doesn't mean you're right about the forests, though."

"Of course not," Felix affirmed. "Or I wouldn't be anybody else."

The Lost Boys said nothing of Pan's absence the day before, which Pan was thankful for, but Pan seemed to be stuck in his thoughts. The rest of the day had him sidetracked and quieter than usual, something not Pan's character at all. Even at the dinner bonfire, Pan hadn't raised his panpipes once for a round of celebration and solos. At the end he had relented due to the overwhelming support from the Lost Boys, but the tune came out boring and slower compared to the usual lively and energetic ones he'd play. By the time he finished, Pan released his panpipe, caught the eyes of every boy, and each knew there was something definitely wrong with their beloved leader. The songs of Pan's tended to show the moods he was in, and this one was certainly disheartening.

The light and flames of the hearth covered Pan's face in a mask of ominous silhouettes. He looked up at the starry night sky, wondering where he would begin with his explanation, and how. There was so much he kept secret from them, especially since they were only boys wanting to have fun for eternity, and Pan would give them that so-called travesty, per se, but now he had no choice and needed their help.

Pan decided to start simple. "We've got to leave Neverland," he said. He couldn't help but notice Felix sneaking worried glances with Rufio, the second and last Lost Boy Pan confided to. But Pan continued on: "I'm sure it's no secret to you all anymore. I am dying in one week's time, and time is scarce. Not much can be done except for hunting down this cure, whatever it may be, in time before my death so I may continue living in Neverland without fear of death. I saved every one of you in your weakest moments when you felt lonely, lost, and betrayed. I have given you a life free of responsibilities and full of luxury. I asked you for nothing in return but your companionship, and you all agreed. I now ask for you to return the favor."

Around the fire, the atmosphere was tense and quiet as each boy stared at Pan. Some boys appeared scared, others shocked, and a few weren't sure how to react.

Studying them, Pan added on, "Neverland has been our home for many, many years, and it has served its purpose faithfully. But now it cannot help me. We must leave to find the cure before it's too late. Then we will return."

A few smiles came from them at that, and Pan heard Felix's voice from the back, "I thought you said it was a bad idea."

"I did," Pan agreed. "It was at the time, yes. But we've run out of options. Neverland keeps us locked here to wait on our deaths. It's time we break out and live our lives not anticipating them."

Felix smiled, as did Rufio. The other Lost Boys followed soon after.

"Pack your bags, boys, because this time tomorrow we'll be sleeping under a new sky," Pan announced. "It'll be ancient, olden, and teeming with magic. And when we find this place, we'll call it New Neverland."

If there was one thing the Lost Boys were good at, it was packing up their campsite and migrating across the island in a short time. Commotions of fabric being handled, belongings stashed, and weapons clinking together were heard, and just like that they vanished. The Lost Boys were finished in about ten minutes' time.

Each carrying their own bag and weapon, the boys made a tight circle around Pan. Pan closed his eyes, and focused as hard as he could to imagine an old-looking forest in his mind teeming with magic. The sight sounded impossible to Pan, but he tried as best he could.

All it took was a light so bright it lit up the inside of Pan's eyelids, then an icy-cold wind washing over him to freeze him over, and finally the same light yet even brighter to thaw him out. Pan opened his eyes feeling like he'd fought in one too many duels against the Lost Boys after getting mauled by one of the tigers he'd summon occasionally for hunting games while being dragged underwater to drown by the mermaids on Neverland. In other words, Pan felt so weak and dizzy, he had to sit down, catching his breath.

About him, the Lost Boys began to get their bearings. They looked around, and some laughed in relief.

"Is this Neverland?" one boy asked.

"Can't be," replied Pan. He held his head in his hands to make sense of what he'd just done. "I worked my magic right."

"Same trees, Pan," came another voice, Rufio's this time. "Same beach heard in the distance, too."

"This isn't Neverland. The magic..." Pan flicked his hand, attempting to make an apple appear, but to no avail. He tried again, furrowing his eyebrows. "Strange," he commented."My magic..."

Before Pan could get anything else out, steady footsteps behind him made him rethink his plan. "Freeze! On the orders of the good king, King Richard, put your purses on the ground! It is a crime to sneak into Sherwood Forest without paying first!"

The Lost Boys had no trouble readying their weapons, but noticing other men coming out of bushes and from behind trees... they were rapidly outnumbered, twelve to almost thirty that Pan could see.

"Halt, brothers! Put down your weapons!" the same voice as before called again, "or I shoot!"

Pan kept his sword out, though, and Felix wasn't planning on putting down his club anytime soon.

"Who's asking?" said Pan.

The man stepped out of the forest, but his friends stayed behind, still surrounding the Lost Boys. The arrow on his bow relaxed, and he smiled. "You ask my name and you shall get it. My name is Robin Hood. I am well-known in this forest."

"Robin Hood," said Pan, mocking a thoughtful expression. "Can't say your name rings a bell..." His lip curled upward as he studied the archer. "Now, boys!"

The Lost Boys spread in opposite directions to take out the mysterious strangers, and Pan did the first thing that came to mind: he leaped forward and smacked the bow out of Robin Hood's hands.