Peter Pan

Peter was guilty. He had grown up. Given Neverland to Auradon to use as a prison and gone on to live his life. Ignored the children on the Isle and left them in their parents' mess. So really, this whole invasion was his fault (or, at least, Helena Hook's anger was his fault {the others never really had the time to consider Peter Pan, or else they were too drunk to remember the thought in the morning})

So many lost children that he'd saved from broken homes (never mind the parents he'd driven mad {Mr Darling had locked himself in a cage until his children returned}). How had he not thought of the children of the Isle, asked them to join him?

He'd grown up.

Married a sweet, Darling girl, had a kid (Pamela). Michael was the new Peter Pan, and John had married Cubby (Patrick) and everyone was happy.

Or forgotten.

The lost boys were disbanded and they'd left Neverland behind and allowed the glamour and glory of Auradon to consume them all. Wendy wore dresses with corsets and emeralds and sapphires, and Michael wore chainmail made of the finest silver in all the worlds, carved by the dwarves and infused with magic. John wore suits and ties made of the finest silks and he himself had almost forgotten what it was like to wear colour, always in whites and greys.

He'd given up freedom for writing and reading and a new Neverland of parties and kings and queens (where were the days when he'd sworn to answer to no one).

When the children originally came over, as part of Prince Ben's proclamation, he was ecstatic (and slightly guilty, but no one ever mentioned guilt in Auradon {they all had it, stowed away somewhere, regrets from their stories and the thought that they weren't really heroes.})

He helped teach Mal some of the wilder magicks, and he danced at the wedding with her, and the guilt evaporated (they'd fixed their mistake; Ben had fixed their mistake) when he saw what a beautiful woman she had become, smiling and chasing fairies all over the gardens with peasant children.

When Ben died, Peter regretted helping Mal. Those wilder magicks that he'd helped her tame were eventually what broke down the magickal barrier around the Isle, and then the children of the Isle of the Lost flew free. Havoc reigned.

In the back of his mind, Peter was proud of them. They'd never lost sight of what they wanted, and if he'd bothered to care, they'd have made fine Lost Boys (Lost Children, now, really). And when he saw Helena Hook, daring and vivacious (nothing like quiet, run-of-the-mill Pamela that got Bs in her subjects and never came home late {he'd tried so hard, but his daughter valued modesty over fun, and who taught her that, her mother, he'd think when he lay in bed, his arms wrapped around Wendy Pan}).

Forever a lost boy, indeed. Michael was shot through the chest, but she never came after Peter. And at some point, after Wendy had stopped crying to sleep, and slapping him awake, and throwing dishes and then breaking down again, when she'd left with Pamela (and, Oh God, Peter couldn't say it, he wouldn't, and he shouldn't {but good riddance}) and John and Cubby were hiding, back in the old Neverland, where no one would think to look (except the bold Helena Hook…)

So yes, Peter Pan lost his mind, calling after John and Wendy and Michael and the twins, every now and then, but the rest of the time, he roamed free, frightening and mad (young again, immortal once more) and when he became dirty, and his shiny suits turned to rags (well, it was no wonder people mistook him {whose child is that?} for someone he wasn't and when Helena Hook found him, she didn't recognise him, and she'd been trained to kill Peter Pan {what did that say about him?}).

(Sometimes, the called Peter Pan the angel of death. Sometimes, he was. Mostly, he was just wild).