I'm finished with the LSAT. Let's hope I get into Law School... This is not edited. I really appreciate all the kind words everyone has said to me. I write fanfiction to amuse myself, but it's nice to share it with others.


You shouted out
But I can't hear a word you say
I'm talking loud not saying much
I'm criticized but all your bullets ricochet
Shoot me down, but I get up

Peter had no right to feel the rage that coursed, white hot through his veins, he had no right to feel the sting at the corners of his eyes as tears threatened to fall, and he certainly had no right to feel anything but regret. Hook was walking a thin line between giving in again, and turning away but what made it all the more maddening to Peter, was that he was almost sure Hook would turn away if he didn't intervene.

When Hook had left the island, Peter had let him go peacefully. He had wronged Hook in a way most lovers would never even dream to do, and he felt that was the only way he could make up for his sin, but now Hook was here again, and Peter wanted nothing more than to feel that man's skin rough against his own. There was a craving, a carnal, heated desire residing in the weaving of Peter's nerves and each and every molecule screamed maddeningly out to the semi-immortal being for Hook's affections again. Still, how does a relationship come back…from that?

Peter slammed his head against the branches that were tangled behind him. He groaned loudly. He had been patient. He'd let Hook come to him each and every time, save once… But now he couldn't withstand it. If Hook had time to think, he could walk away, and Peter couldn't accept that, not when so much had been left unsaid, so much left unexplained. No apology had ever been given, only silence and short exchanges of glances, but not once had Peter said, "I'm sorry…" Though, he didn't know if those words would ever befall his lips.

"You've been coming up here too much," a deep voice said from below. Peter looked down to see Felix's half hidden face. Pan swung from the branches, landing softly atop the ground.

"I've had a lot of thinking to do," Peter stated.

Felix nodded slowly, moving his staff from one hand to the other. "They're getting closer. Our scouts spotted them not but a few kilometers away."

"Then move the camp. I'm not ready to give up just yet."

"You're wasting time, Pan," Felix said sternly. "We need to use Henry now."

"No… It's more complicated than that," Peter said as he moved to lean against one of the trees. "A lot more complicated."

"Captain Hook?" Felix said in awe. "He left you."

Peter furrowed his brow, his muscles worked hard not to allow his mouth the proper formation to break down and cry. "I didn't exactly do anything that would have made him want to stay."

"What really happened? You never told any of us," Felix said as he went to sit on a fallen tree.

Peter could tell that his statement was much more loaded than a simple fact. Felix hated to be left in the dark. In truth, Felix was the closest thing Peter had to a true friend, but he was always recoiling, never getting too close to the Lost Boy. Old habit, he guessed. "Not now, Felix," Peter said as he began walking toward camp. "We've got to move. I need more time."

They had spent most of the night moving the camp from one corner of Neverland to an entirely different one. It wasn't that hard, when you had magic, but most of the Lost Boy's were just as magicless as those from the world around Storybrooke. Plus, Peter made most of them take their own belongings and march just so he had more time to think.

He'd wronged Hook. He'd defiled their relationship for selfish reasons, reasons he was close to doing again. But it had never been a lie… Each time he'd say those three little words, he had meant them with his whole being. Each time he kissed those shoulders, ran his fingers down that strong back, or gasped out his name… He'd meant each and every word. Hook had never been more distant than when Peter was trying to show him how much he cared. Each game, each test, it had only pushed Hook further and further away. In panic, Peter had tried the unthinkable. But it had all gone so horribly wrong. Just as most of their relationship that had gone…oh so horribly wrong.

Peter hated to see him angry. The way the creases between his brows elongated, or how his nose scrunched up in a vicious snarl, it made him look more beast than beauty. Still, he watched as Killian threw whatever he could at the wooden walls they called their home in the canopy of the trees. He watched as wooden bowls were smashed, dried fruits and veggies were tossed to the floor, and listened as shouting and insults came his way. Why wouldn't he just hit him? Why couldn't he just raise his fist and get it over with? Why words? They hurt worse… They cut further into Peter's skin than any wound had ever. So he watched… paralyzed in the fright that had etched itself into his soul, pouring concrete over his body, and maintained its grasp there until he cracked…

"Don't you have anything to say?" Killian shouted, his eyes round in maddening rage. "Anything at all to justify your vile behavior?"

"No."

Killian seemed to compose himself slightly, running his fingers over his face roughly and moaning in anguish. "I hate you sometimes… I hate you so much that I want nothing more than to take my fingers and snap your little neck."

Peter only blinked at the remark. It was his fault… 'Just hit me already… Hit me and get it over with!' Yet no matter how many times he thought that this was finally when Killian would raise his hand, he never did.

A loud 'thwack' echoed in the small room. Peter gazed at Killian's hook. The pirate had dug it into the wall, breathing heavily; looking at Peter with what could have been madness, or obsession. The pirate moved to Peter, pulling him into a rough kiss, his five o'clock shadow roughly rubbing against Peter's smooth features. It stung, but Peter didn't care. He kissed back, feeling teeth bite roughly at his lips, only to be messaged by a hot tongue. Roughly, he was pushed back against the wall, another thwack, and Peter only opened his eyes to see a hook just barely a few centimeters from his face. He could practically feel the cold radiate from it. "Look at me!" Killian growled.

Peter's gaze moved to fix upon Killian's eyes.

"You ever do something like that again, and I'll leave… I won't be your toy…" the pirate threatened.

Pan wrapped his arms around the man's middle, pushing his face into his chest and inhaling that leather scent. "I won't…"

It was a shame… Peter thought as he stopped walking for a moment, watching Felix's back as he continued down the path with the last of their belongings. Peter had done that "thing" again… He had done it so many more times. Each time… Each time he had allowed the Lost Boys to hunt Hook, trap him, beat him, Peter had allowed it. Each cut…each scar, they were all inflicted by his group, and each time, no matter how angry Hook had gotten, he would forgive Peter. It only taught Peter to do it more-

For when Hook was yelling at him, at least he was telling Peter how much he loved him...


You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium

"Damn it!" Emma shouted as she wrinkled up Pan's map in frustration. "It's moved again…"

"What? No!" Mary Margaret lurched forward, looking at the parchment, sucking in her lips to suppress what Hook thought would have been a curse word. He simply rolled his shoulders. This was all a game to Peter, and he knew that when the camp moved, it was because Emma had been too close for comfort…

"It's his best defense," Hook stated. He was haunted by his lingering adoration for the boy, but that had been the past. He had to put it behind him. In the end, it was all lies. In the end… no sacrifice, no excuse could salvage the broken relationship they pretended worked.

All eyes turned to Hook, so he took that as his cue to take the map, and point at a few chosen spots. "Peter moves the camp when you get too close. You need someone to distract his many eyes on the island. No eyes, no sight…no moving camp."

"But how do we do that? We don't even know how he's watching us," Emma stated.

"Guy's damn creepy…" Neal said.

Hook suppressed the urge to punch him, or run his hook into his jaw…

"Magic," Regina stated. "We block out his sights with magic."

"How exactly are you going to do that? Pan's magic is stronger than any of ours," Emma said.

Hook knew this plan was futile, but it gave him more time to consider what was happening. Though, having more time just meant more time to consider going back to Pan, and not necessarily leaving him. Still, he wasn't ready to just leave yet. Each time he'd thought he was, there was something Peter did that just kept him coming back for more…

The sun's soothing caress radiated softly off Hook's torso as he lay atop white sand, listening to the calm rhythm of the waves. It had stormed for several days, most likely because of Hook's and Peter's moods, but finally they had decided to stop fighting and start working together again. Hook shifted, feeling his spine crack a bit as he inhaled, taking in new memories, new feelings and releasing all the bad.

Soft fingers danced atop his torso, tracing his abdomen's outline and hovering almost too close to his more ticklish sides. "I hate being tickled," he warned teasingly.

A warm nose brushed up against his neck before the weight of someone else came down on his abdomen. He opened his eyes to see Peter straddling him, a very playful smirk atop those features.

"Yes?" Hook asked, but he couldn't suppress the smile that had found its way to his face.

"You're boring when you just…lie here," Peter stated crinkling up his nose a bit. "Let's build a castle!"

Using his magic, Peter floated off Hook, landing gently a few meters away where the sand was perfect for building sand castles. "C'mon!" He playfully flicked some of the sand at Hook.

The pirate slowly sat up, sighing in defeat as he trudged over in the sand to Peter where he kneeled against the soft beach, feeling his knees break the smooth surface as the sand gave way.

"I used to make the best sand castles with-" Abruptly, Peter stopped, his brow furrowing as it looked he found himself visiting an unpleasant memory.

"I've never been good at them," Hook said, trying to ease Peter out of his sadness. "Perhaps with you as my guide though, we can create the most fantastic of all sand castles." He kissed Peter on the cheek softly, his good hand coming to graze against Peter's.

"You're always so good to me, Killian," Peter said, offering a smile, though the emotion didn't reach his eyes. Hook watched as Peter's shoulders sank and how he chewed his bottom lip softly as if he were trying to harden himself from breaking down.

"You can tell me anything, you know," Hook said as he smoothed out the sand he'd built into a soft, sloping mound.

Peter retracted his hands, placing them on his lap as he sat back atop his legs. His brow was furrowed, like he was thinking far too hard. "I love you," Peter said. "I love you so much sometimes that I forget why I'm so sad in the first place."

Hook stared at the boy, not having been prepared for such a raw revelation. He licked his bottom lip slowly, his mind trying to steady itself, but it felt as if it was stumbling, struggling to climb the mountain that was Peter's words. "Sad?" He said hoarsely.

Peter smiled, his resolve hardening around him again as he moved to the other side of their slowly forming castle. He waved his hand atop the damp sand, pulling the tiny particles every which way until there before them was a castle high atop a hill, looking as if it could fall at any moment, yet it didn't. Peter stood up, brushing off the sand from his shins and shrugging. "I'm bored. Let's go swim!" He ran for the waves that lapped at the beach.

Hook sat there for a moment, watching Peter run into the waves, watching as his body crashed with the ocean, seeing the sea foam rise into the air before falling back into its body. Sad? What made Peter Pan so sad? What made Hook so special? Shaking his head softly, he set the thought aside. After all, Peter Pan was a child, a boy who knew nothing else but pleasure and selfishness. Peter didn't know love. How could a child know true, real, love?

"Hook!" Neal said, waving his hand in front of the pirate's face. "Earth to Hook!"

Hook swatted Neal's hand from his face, giving the man a quick death glare before looking at all the gazes that locked on his face. "Let me handle the distraction. Work your magic on finding Henry, Regina. You all forget…" Hook offered a rather hyperbolic, charming smile. "Pan and I go way back…"