"Neal?" She blinked, but he was still there. Not an illusion. No; it couldn't be him. This was another trick of Peter Pan's, another deception cast by his shadows. Or a siren. Well, she wouldn't be fooled again. She extinguished the fireball in her palm and raised her bow again, aiming the tip of the arrow at his chest.

"Emma," Not-Neal cautioned, holding his hands up. It looked like him and it sounded like him, but that was part of the illusion. It wasn't real. Peter Pan knew too much about his enemies. Even those she thought were dead didn't stay dead. "Emma, it's me. It's Neal. Henry's father. Please put the bow down."

"Emma, do not listen. Most likely, it's Pan playing his filthy mind games," Rumpelstiltskin warned in her ear. If he didn't believe the illusion of his son, it was further incentive for her to keep her guard up.

"I know," she replied tersely out of the corner of her mouth. He had been reaching out for her arm, but the daggers shooting out of her eyes when she slightly turned her head convinced him to retract his hand. Neal dared to use the moment of distraction to take a step forward. Emma noticed it and pulled tighter on the arrow. He froze.

"You're not real," she said, mostly to herself. He couldn't be. She watched Tamara shoot him, she watched him fall away into that vortex. It would have required a miracle for him to survive alone and land in Neverland at the same time they were rescuing Henry. "You're supposed to be dead." He spread his hands by his sides. They were empty, but she didn't take that as a sign that he was helpless, not after everything she had seen Pan's shadows do.

"Sorry to disappoint," Neal remarked. His eyes darted from Emma to Hook to Rumpel. No one spoke on his behalf. It was three against one. "Emma, please…it is me. What are your instincts telling you? What is your heart telling you?"

Her heart…her heart was telling her that she should run to Neal without hesitation. But the heart was a tricky organ, able to be swayed by illusions because the owner wanted so badly to believe they were true. Her head was telling her to release the arrow, to scare the shadow off, but her fingers had yet to obey. What was she waiting for?

As she internally duked it out, Neal's foot slid an inch closer.

"Quit moving," she growled. His hands shot up higher than ever before.

"I suggest you do what she says….or you'll soon forget what it feels like to walk on both legs," Rumpel added, watching Neal carefully. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him wince even as he said it. Judging by the strain on his face, there was a struggle going on in his head, too.

"Papa, please," Neal pleaded. It fell on deaf ears. Rumpel surveyed the figure of Neal with longing, but he did not relent completely. Neal must have determined it a lost cause, for he was back to addressing Emma. "Emma, I'm one hundred percent real. I'm not Pan, I'm not a shadow. I took a bullet, yes, but I healed in the Enchanted Forest. The shadow brought me here and I found you."

The bow faltered slightly. Was it possible…?

"Hmm…Be careful, love. Sounds fishy to me," Hook said, rubbing the curve of his hook across his cheek in thought. Neal put down his hands and glared openly at the pirate.

"Could you stay out of this?" Hook gave an offended squeak. "First you steal my mother from my father and now you're going after my ex-girlfriend? Are you that desperate that you have to keep raiding my family line for dates?" Now Rumpel bent his head, his brows cinched together in deep consideration. Was he honestly changing his mind? Or was he simply trying to block out everything Neal said?

"Ex implies she's up for grabs," Hook retorted, taking a step closer to Emma's hip just to spite Neal. Emma was not charmed by having two men argue over her. She was simply annoyed.

"The both of you stop talking," she ordered and shoved Hook away from her side. Despite the roughness, Hook flashed a sinister grin at Neal. He bowed low.

"Yes, princess," Hook obliged. Emma was irritated with the pirate's romantic pursuit, she was confused about Neal showing up out of the blue, she was constantly worried about Henry being trapped in Pan's hands, and she was still furious at Rumpelstiltskin for his latest betrayal. Her nerves were rubbed raw and ragged.

"I'm done listening to shadows," she hissed. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath and prepared to release the arrow. This would prove that Neal wasn't really Neal. And if, by some miracle, it was really Neal…well, she didn't want to think about that.

"We first met in the yellow Bug," Neal announced abruptly. Only he didn't stop there. Her eyes shot open and she realized he was rattling off facts he thought would convince her that he was real. "I popped up from the backseat. I taught you how to survive as a thief on the streets. You have a flower tattoo on your wrist because it was the first thing I gave you after we met. You said you picked that tattoo so you could keep some part of me with you always, especially if we ever got separated. Um…I…I gave you a silver swan charm. You turned it into a necklace. In fact, I still have it."

He hastily dug something out of his pocket and tossed it in the dirt at her feet. Rumpel used the light of one of his fireballs to expose the silver necklace. Emma's heart skipped a beat.

"You gave that necklace back to me in Manhattan, before returning to my father," he continued when she was stunned into silence. "You told me you kept it as a reminder never to trust anyone ever again. Why would I have that if I were Pan? How would I know that unless I was who I said I was?"

Carefully, Emma knelt down. She laid the bow aside long enough to pick up the silver necklace. Her thumb traced over the engraved swan. Then she glanced up at Neal with renewed hope.

"Neal?" He sighed in relief and smiled that lopsided grin she always liked. "You're…alive?" Before he could respond, she crushed the necklace in her fist and she rushed to his side. He opened his arms to accept her as she embraced him tightly. She never thought she'd see him again. "How?"

"Just like I told you," he said, shrugging. "When I fell into the portal, I fell into the Enchanted Forest. Mulan and Aurora helped me heal. Apparently, they know you and are very loyal to you. For the record, it's a lot different than Disney." For the first time since landing in Neverland, she genuinely laughed.

"Yeah, it is," she agreed. Her hands slid along his arms before dropping to her sides again. She just couldn't believe he was there and alive. She and Neal and Henry…after this, they could try to be a real family…

"Bae?" Rumpelstiltskin stretched a hand toward his son. Wonder and faint stirrings of love flourished in his dark eyes. "It's really you?"

"Yeah, Papa, it's me," Neal confirmed, moving around Emma to offer his hand to his father.

"Wait," Emma said. She placed her hand on Neal's arm before his hand could fully accept Rumpel's. Much to Rumpel's disappointment, Neal drew away. He looked to Emma questioningly. "There's something you need to know about your father."

Fear spiked across Rumpel's face.

"Emma, please—" She ignored the dealmaker's cries, instead turning to capture Neal's gaze. She had a funny feeling that Rumpel hadn't told his son, either. Why would he if it risked his relationship with his son? She was beginning to see how selfish Rumpelstiltskin could be.

"Did you know there was a prophecy that foretold of a boy being your father's undoing?" Neal shook his head weakly. Clearly, he had never heard such a thing and he did not understand what she was driving toward. Already, Rumpel hung his head in shame. Anger pumped through Emma's veins again and she clenched Neal's shirt in her hands when he searched for the answer in his father's eyes. "Neal, that boy was Henry. You know how your father can be self-preserving? Well, he intended to kill Henry before he was taken here to Neverland. He still might try."

"No, Bae, I wouldn't…" Rumpel's objections disintegrated when Neal locked onto his eyes. This time, there was no sympathy or love to be found. Only fear and disbelief. It hurt Rumpel so much that he seemed to shrivel where he stood. He didn't attempt to deny it any longer. The minute he dipped his head in acceptance, Neal exploded.

"You were going to kill my son?" Neal's voice trembled with rage. Rumpel opened his mouth and closed it firmly again. There was nothing he could say that would mend this festering wound.

"I…was afraid…" Rumpel's voice was barely audible to Emma's ears. Neal stepped in front of her to confront his father head-on. His fingers curled into fists and his neck was turning red.

"You are a coward," Neal shouted. The accusation echoed among the trees. Emma thought she heard a distorted sound of laughter from far off. It couldn't have been Hook, since he was busy turning a pebble over with his shoe while pretending not to listen to their argument. Was it a trick of the wind? What if Pan was listening at that moment? If you are, I hope you're enjoying the show, she thought scathingly. You started this. Neal was still shouting. "How could you even….Gods, Papa, he's a child! A child that has done nothing to you! Your own grandson!"

"I may have done so before, but not now. I'm only here to save Henry, not harm him," Rumpel repeated tiredly. He had sworn to Emma the same thing, but Neal was inclined to ignore it just as much as she. A brick wall was rapidly forming between father and son. Rumpelstiltskin lacked the means to break through it.

"What were you planning to accomplish? Were you going to "save" Henry from Pan and then do the deed yourself? Toss him overboard on the way home? Make it look like an accident? Or were you going to wait until we returned home, slip him some curse or poison, and then go frolicking with Belle?"

Neal did not offer his father a chance to speak. Instead, he took ahold of Emma's hand and started leading her away. "Come on, Emma. Let him figure out how long he can last in Pan's labyrinth."

"Neal…" He paused. She glanced back at Rumpel uncertainly. Rumpel, whose skillful hands were desperately clasped in front of his torso and whose face was shrouded in shadow. "I'd prefer to keep Rumpelstiltskin with us." Neal whirled on her.

"Why? Don't tell me you've forgiven him. Emma, he might kill our son!"

"No, I won't," Rumpel quietly protested. Maybe he was hoping that if he said it enough times they'd begin to listen. Emma strode over to her fallen bow and collected it in her arms. Rumpel tensed, but she did not aim an arrow at him. Neal looked at her like she had gone mad.

"Trust me, it'll be a long time before I forgive him, if I ever do. But there's a war starting here and we need strong allies. And what's to stop him from going after Henry if we leave him here? He'll continue on this quest to reach Henry, if only to prove us wrong, and you know it. This way, we can keep an eye on him at all times. If he tries anything suspicious, we'll know automatically."

Neal swiped a hand across his damp forehead. Hundreds of arguments peppered his tongue, but none made it past his lips. Emma felt his resolve crumbling, unable to protest against her reasoning. Rumpel stayed still and silent, waiting to hear his final sentencing.

"Fine," Neal exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. Hook jumped. "He can come with us, but on one condition. Absolutely no magic. If you so much as use magic to conjure a tissue after sneezing, we're tying you to a tree and running like hell. Understood?" Neal's eyes were two glaciers, cutting Rumpel to the bone. He bent his head agreeably.

"Understood," Rumpel said. It wasn't good enough for Neal. "You have my word that I will not use magic from here on without your express permission." Neal nodded once, satisfied for now. They formed a crooked line—Hook and Neal at the front, Emma at the back, and Rumpel stuck in the middle. He would have more spotlight on him than Miley Cyrus at the VMAs. Emma kept the bow in her grasp and her eyes glued to Rumpel's hands. If she even saw a flicker of violet magic…

…Rumpel would be down on the ground before he could say "dearie."

…..

Tinkerbell proved to be as stubborn as her Disney counterpart. Occasionally, she would answer one of Snow or Charming's questions. Other times and more often than not, she would act as though she had not heard or she simply chose to ignore it since silence was their reward. They were lucky enough that she had agreed to help, so they did not press the matter. They only kept asking questions in the hopes that Tinkerbell would answer one out of every three.

"How long will it take to reach Pan's camp?" Snow inquired. She tried to be as polite as possible, but still there was no answer. Just Tink's blonde head bobbing as she walked and the rustle of leaves underfoot. Snow supposed the question came off as are we there yet? But every second that passed meant one less second that Henry had while in Pan's hands.

"So, you and Pan, huh?" Charming tried next. Tink's shoulders visibly tensed, but no verbal response fluttered out of the darkness. Snow nudged her husband's shoulder, warning him to be careful. He must have mistaken it as a sign of encouragement. "Are you two old friends?" Nothing, though Snow thought the stomping of Tink's boots seemed to grow heavier. A twig violently snapped. "What happened between you two? You've been living out here like a…"

Alarmingly, Tinkerbell stopped and turned around to confront Charming. Her lips were pursed and the knife flipped between her fingers. Charming gulped noisily, but did not break her gaze. She looked ready to aim that knife at Charming's head, but maybe she was smart enough to realize that Snow would not take it lightly if she did.

"Like a…what?" Tink challenged, raising her chin in the air. Charming pressed his lips together, refusing to let any answer escape. Of course, that seemed to tick off Tink even more. "Like a what? Like a peasant? Like a pixie or a sprite? Like a fugitive?" Whatever she was, she no longer saw herself as the pure, graceful fairy. Tink shoved Charming's chest, making him stumble backward. Snow stepped between Charming and Tinkerbell, her hand blossoming to warn Tinkerbell to stop.

"Tinkerbell, wait! He didn't mean anything by it. He and I are more familiar with betrayal and being an outcast than you think. Trust me when I say that I know what you're feeling."

Tink looked doubtful.

"Is that so?" Snow summoned up her old memories, ones that she had created before the time of the curse. Tinkerbell was guarded and alone. She needed someone who could relate to what she was dealing with.

"I am a princess….but I spent most of my life on the run from an evil queen. My father and mother both died when I was very young. The only woman I thought I could trust, my stepmother, turned out to be my father's murderer. She sent a huntsman after me to cut out my heart, but he took pity on me and I escaped into the woods. That's where I stayed for years on end, fighting to survive while that evil queen ruled my father's kingdom. The woods became my home and I came to know it better than I ever knew the halls of my father's castle. I may not have been able to fulfill my role as princess, but it was not the most terrible fate I could endure. In a way, it made me strong and it was because of me being on the run that I ever met Charming, my true love."

Snow took ahold of Charming's hand. Tinkerbell looked sympathetic toward Snow's tale, but it was not enough to crack her completely. Not yet.

"What's your point?" Snow stepped closer to Tinkerbell. Her hand slipped from Charming's, but Snow took the opportunity to rest her hands on Tinkerbell's shoulders. Tink was startled. She stared at Snow's hand as if contemplating whether to stab it with her knife.

"My point is, Tinkerbell…whatever you are going through, whatever it was that Pan did to force you into hiding, I understand. What matters most is whether people like you and I choose to stick together and prevail against those who harmed us. It was because of Charming and my good friend Red that I was able to carry on at all."

Snow held out her hand, offering a truce. They hadn't exactly started out on the right foot. Tinkerbell twisted her lips this way and that, uncertain of Snow's offer of friendship. Snow gave her the time she needed. Tinkerbell had been alone for a very long time. More than likely, it was difficult for her to take that leap of faith and place trust in anyone.

Tinkerbell tentatively took Snow's hand and shook it. Her eyes were brighter when she next looked upon Charming. This time, thankfully, she did not look prepared to gut him like a fish.

"And what about you, lover boy?" Charming's eyebrows shot up. His gaze frantically switched between Tinkerbell and Snow. Clearly, he hadn't expected to be dragged so abruptly into the conversation. It was his turn to tell his tale.

"Uh…I….was a shepherd," he replied. Snow inclined her head, urging him along. He seemed to become more confident after that. "It's a little complicated. I had a twin brother, James, who was given over to an arrogant king by the Dark One as a baby. Only, James died, so I had to take his place. I slayed a dragon and earned the right to marry another king's daughter, which would have united his kingdom with James' false father's kingdom, but then I met Snow. She…stole from me and hit me over the head with a rock. Needless to say, I gave it all up for her and I've been fighting for her ever since."

Tinkerbell nodded thoughtfully. An amused smile threatened to slide over her lips. Snow wondered what part amused her the most. Was it the part about Charming being a shepherd? Being hit over the head with a rock by his future girlfriend? Falling in love with the woman who hit him over the head?

"Doesn't sound so complicated to me. So, you were herded, so to speak, into your dead brother's place…but your name is Charming?"

"Technically, my name is neither one," Charming admitted. Tink's brows furrowed in confusion. Most people lost Charming at this part. Snow was sure Grumpy was still working it out. "James was my brother's name, of course. Charming was a name Snow White…mockingly….gave me when we met and it stuck."

"Then what is your name?"

"David. It's also the name the Evil Queen gave me when we were all cursed…but that's another story entirely." Tinkerbell shook her head dismissively.

"What did you call him on your wedding night? James, David, or Charming?" Tink didn't stick around to hear Snow's answer. They continued walking, but at least the tension in their group had dissipated. Charming and Snow exchanged wary glances as Tink chuckled from the darkness. If this is how a fairy acts when they lose their wings, Snow thought, maybe the Blue Fairy could benefit from loosening up her jellyfish corset once in a while.

"I don't remember how long it's been since I've lost my wings," Tink's honest admission shook Snow out of her dark thoughts. They hadn't even asked another question, but Snow liked to think this was Tink's way of reciprocating for their shared stories. Quid pro quo. An eye for an eye. "Time does not flow the same way for fairies as it does for mortals. When I lost my wings, it was like time sped up and slowed down at the same time. Then I wound up here in Neverland, where there is no such thing as time."

"And you met Peter Pan," Charming filled in when Tink's voice faded. Tinkerbell held up her hand—the one without the knife—and silently warned him to be patient.

"Yes, I met him. You know, I've heard stories over the years about this so-called Dark One. All sorts of rumors about his dark deals, infamous rage, and tendency to eat firstborn children. Let me tell you: Peter Pan is twice the devil Rumpelstiltskin is." Charming glanced around curiously among the trees. He strained his hearing, but the only set of footsteps belonged to the people in their group. If Rumpel could be summoned in this world by the calling of his name, he must be ignoring it. If he was even alive.

"I was an ex-fairy," Tinkerbell continued. "New to human problems and lack of magic to fix them. For the longest time, I thought I was going mad. He found me on Neverland's beach, a huddled mess. The Blue Fairy had banished me there for what I did. Peter Pan is exceptional in the game of deception. He told me he needed help with something. He said perhaps we could help each other. Even if I was an ex-fairy, I had enough good left in me to want to do something good."

Snow smiled sadly. Disgraced and banished though she was, Tink still proved she had a good heart. It wasn't her fault Peter Pan recognized that truth and took advantage of it.

"You helped him…" Snow said. She tried not to sound accusative. It would only serve to close the window Tink had opened into her mind. "…helped him with what?" A tiny shiver slid down her back. A part of her knew she would not like the answer.

Tink's knuckles cracked as her fingers curled tightly around the handle of the knife. Anger radiated off of her, stormy, hot, and unpredictable, but luckily it was not directed at them this time. It was reserved solely for the elusive shadow named Peter Pan. As she passed a tree, Tink stabbed her knife into the trunk and then yanked it out again, leaving a thick groove in the bark.

"At first, all I wanted was to escape Neverland and see the world beyond the prison the Blue Fairy had constructed for me. Peter Pan granted my wish. With the help of his shadow, he and I would leave Neverland together for a while. We would go to many worlds, mostly the Enchanted Forest. It was during those trips that he collected his….children. He rounded them up with this enchanted instrument. I was something like a mother to them when we returned to Neverland. I told them fantastic stories about the worlds I'd seen and about my time as a fairy. I loved every one of them."

Excruciating longing and heartache tainted Tink's words, so powerfully that a sob hitched in Snow's own throat.

"The Lost Boys," she murmured. Tink nodded.

"I thought we were doing something good. Peter Pan told me the flute attracted children that felt unloved. I made a vow to give them the love they deserved, to make them happy. I never considered Pan's ulterior motive of luring them to Neverland. They began to go missing. Some mornings, I awoke to discover one or two gone. It was a big, magical island. The island of dreams, Peter Pan called it. I thought…if they went exploring…I asked Pan where the boys went and why they never came back. One night I watched out for my boys and I followed Pan as he led one of them away. Then I found out what he was really doing with the children he brought to this island."

If Tink didn't sniffle, Snow wouldn't have known she was crying. He blood froze in Snow's veins and she sent her husband a frightened look. She knew what it felt like to lose a child…but Tink had lost more than one. What could Pan possibly want with children like Henry? What kind of monster was he?

She had to know.

"Tink….what does he do with them? What is he planning to do with Henry?" The window slammed shut. Snow practically heard the glass in the frame shatter to pieces. No, don't close us off now, she silently pleaded. From one mother to another…please…But it was too late. Tinkerbell stopped sniffling and the past was once more buried in the back of her mind.

"All you need to know is that I found out his cruel intentions, I didn't like it, I escaped into the woods, and I've been stuck in Neverland ever since. No more children, no more Pan…no more adventures," she grumbled. Charming caught the crook of her elbow.

"You know. Tell us," he demanded. Tink wrenched her arm back. This time she held up the hand that was enclosed around the handle of the knife. Charming bristled and Snow's muscles coiled. She reminisced over how long it would take to nock an arrow on her bow if things continued to escalate.

"What does it matter if you two are so confident you can rescue Henry? Trust me; the less you know, the better." Tink lowered the knife. The three of them fumed in silence as they carried on. "I hope you two have an escape route in mind. You'll need to get off this island as soon as you rescue Henry. Or were you expecting a miracle?"

That was the last thing Neverland seemed to be made of: miracles. Instead of dreams, there were nightmares. Snow considered their options. Truth be told, there weren't many plausible ones at their disposal. There was also the matter of finding Emma…

"We could use Hook's ship," Charming suggested. "Go out the way we came in. Of course, we'll need someone with magic to repair it and our two magic-users are nowhere to be found." Three, if they counted Emma as a newborn magic-user. Tinkerbell let out a short chortle. They were obviously not going to get help from her in terms of magic.

"It's too bad you never managed to capture a mermaid," she said over her shoulder. Confusion passed over Charming's face. A shudder traveled through the length of his body. He didn't want to linger over the memory of the mermaid that nearly drowned him.

"Why is that?" He asked anyway. Tink opened her mouth, but she didn't get a chance to respond.

"Mermaids have the unique ability to travel between worlds via the ocean." Charming and Tinkerbell stopped in their tracks to look at Snow in amazement. "What? I knew a mermaid once."

"You mean, other than the one that tried to drown me?" Charming's blue eyes widened. "When was this, exactly?" Snow paused to think. Her gaze was aimed at the cold, dark ground, though she did not see it. It was so long ago and she had to fight through the false memories to get to her real ones.

"It was….after I met you," she finally replied, though she still didn't sound entirely certain.

"Well, that narrows it down." Emma definitely earned her sarcasm from his side of the family. Emma…A pit of despair hollowed out Snow's stomach. It was only by Charming's hand entwining with her own that she had the strength to move her feet through the soil. If only they had a sign that Emma was alright. If only Ariel was somewhere in Neverland, able to escort them home.

"Wherever she is," Snow thought aloud, "I hope she found her happiness." Charming continued to cringe over his recent experience with mermaids. Neverland's mermaids weren't so friendly, but Ariel had a kind heart. I guess this isn't the proper time to tell him I was once a mermaid, too.

….

The minute Regina woke up, she banged her head on something hard. She howled and rubbed the back of her head. Already it felt like it was swelling and sore. Her hands fumbled around the walls of her…cage? Yes, it was definitely some form of cage. Hand-crafted, she would bet. Her legs couldn't unfold or spread out fully due to the small perimeter of the cage. The space behind her knees was cramping and one hip was tender after she slept on it for so long.

How dare they? Locking the Evil Queen in a cage that only allowed enough space for a small child, if that. Her back was hunched, her head scraped against the rough ceiling, and her hands threatened to punch a hole through the wall. If it was possible. She felt like Alice in the Disney version, too big to fit in a small house.

The box or cage or whatever it was rocked back and forth unsteadily. She must be suspended in the air. The question was: what was she hanging over? An endless trench? A roaring fire? The ocean? Just because they were children, Regina wouldn't put it past the Lost Boys to get rid of her by such unfair means. Especially if they were loyal to Pan. If she ever saw that brat, he'd end up worse off than the Blind Witch. No one challenged the Evil Queen and got away with it.

Except for the Charmings. And Henry, And Rumpelstiltskin. And her mother. But no one else would get away with it! She'd be damned if she was going to let a bunch of overgrown boys and their wild teenage jungle boy leader best her. If anything, her mother would come back from the dead just to scold her for it.

The cage swung harder before it began bouncing up and down. Regina's stomach flipped. Was this some new method of torture? Lock her in a tiny cage and swing her back and forth like a pendulum until she lost her lunch? Or…were they lowering her down? Well, if she was hanging over a roaring fire, she expected she would know soon enough.

"Now, set her down gently, boys," that rude, shaggy-haired boy's voice floated in through the walls of her cage. They were lowering her down! If they opened the cage, they wouldn't know what hit them! Then she could escape, find Henry, and get the hell off this island. Yes, just set me down nice and gently, she thought. I am a queen, after all. The cage dropped onto the ground and Regina's body did a somersault. Her head smacked against the floor this time. That wasn't gently! "Good job, boys. I couldn't have done it better myself."

Regina's dagger-sharp nails dug into her palms. Ooh, they would be screaming soon when they opened the door to her cage. She would make every last one of them beg on their knees for mercy! The wood of the cage creaked and then a slice of bright light invaded Regina's dark space. She had been trapped in the shadows for so long that she had to shield her eyes with her hand. It was like staring into the face of Heaven, only the Lost Boys emerged from the whiteness instead of heavenly angels.

"Morning, Your Majesty," the shaggy one mocked. Hands latched onto her arms and tugged her out of the cage, throwing her in a heap on the soil. Their feet crunched twigs and leaves. Even without glancing up, she knew they were circling her to prepare for any counterattack she had in mind. "Of course, morning is a subjective term considering the fact that Pan controls when the light comes and goes."

Regina did not mistake the threat. If Pan willed it, she could be trapped in the darkness for what would feel like forever. She should be thankful for the glimmer of light allowed her. Yeah, right. Her hands scrabbled along the ground, but there was nothing within reach that she could use as a weapon. Nothing to distract them. Then again, why should she need a weapon? Let me show you what real light is, she thought. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth and she could not get her lips to open at the moment.

Gradually, she regained the strength in her legs and rose to full height. There were seven or eight of them, forming a tight circle around where she stood, but not close enough to be struck. That was alright. She didn't need to be close to make this work. She met every pair of childish eyes and grinned maliciously. A few of them squirmed. Then she lifted her hands, aimed for the shaggy one, conjured a fireball—

…conjured a fireball…

…Why wasn't it working? Tongues of fire did not lick at her fingertips. Yellow light did not burst to life in her palm. Her hands remained cold and empty. There was nothing…

"Oops," the shaggy boy murmured. It was clear that apology was the last thing on his mind from the smirk on his dirty face. His stick plodded the ground as he dared to take a step toward her. The stick that he used to knock her out. The back of her head pulsed and she winced in agony. "Almost forgot to mention. Pan doesn't like taking chances."

He gestured to her wrist. Regina turned it over and noticed a thick black band covering her skin. It was a bracelet, a shackle to prevent her from accessing her magic. It was the same kind of magic-nulling bracelet that Greg and Tamara had used….and those two had been working for Pan. Fury erupted in Regina like never before. She extended her palm and channeled every ounce of magic in her being, but nothing happened. Her nails clawed at the bracelet, but it refused to part from her skin. It wasn't even scuffed from being scratched by her nails. She broke a nail from scratching so hard and she hissed.

And the shaggy boy laughed.

"Take her," he commanded. Once more, the boys darted forward to lock onto her hands. She struggled, but there were so many of them and they were stronger than they looked. Apparently, when teenage boys were not allowed to age, those built-up hormones became their personal brand of steroids. They dragged her along the path through the woods with the shaggy boy leading the way.

"Take me where?" To her death?

"To your son," one of the younger boys stated. Her heart thudded hard inside her chest. Henry? They were taking her to Henry? Or was this another trap? We'll soon see, she thought. For once, Regina went quietly.

….

The sudden daylight startled Henry awake. It was nearly blinding. The ways in which light and dark passed in Neverland was strange to him. There was no such thing as time, yet times of light and dark came and went. It didn't feel like a whole day passed, but there was light showering down over the camp. Henry wondered if Pan controlled that along with everything else in Neverland. Probably.

He sat up just in time to see Felix and some of the younger boys wander off into the woods. Curiosity peaked, Henry was tempted to follow them and see where they were going. Maybe they secretly knew where Emma and the rest of his family was. If they were here in Neverland.

His urge was broken when something landed in his lap. It was a plate of food. Toast, eggs, bacon, omelets…everything looked delicious and smelled even better. Henry glanced away from the plate to locate the source of such generosity. As he expected, Pan was looming over his shoulder with one foot planted on the log to lean in closer.

"Glad to see you're awake, Henry. Well, what are you waiting for? Eat up," he insisted, waving his hand toward the plate of food in Henry's lap. Oh, it looked so good…mouthwateringly good…but Henry did not trust Pan enough to consume it without hesitation. What if there was something in the food? A curse or a charm to make him more open to Pan's suggestion? After living with the Evil Queen, Henry was always careful around those that wielded magic.

"No thanks," he said, setting the plate aside. He wrapped his arms around his middle and prayed it didn't growl. "I'm not very hungry." His stomach groaned monstrously. Peter Pan lifted an eyebrow in speculation.

"Your stomach begs to differ, Henry." Still Henry did not touch the food. He didn't want to take the risk, even if he was starving. Instead, he turned his attention to the groups of Lost Boys within the camp. However, since he instinctively knew the plate of food was there, delicious and waiting, it was increasingly difficult to ignore it. Henry scooted away on the log as Pan took up the plate and sat down beside him. Now the plate was in his lap.

"If you don't eat it, then I will."

Henry didn't jump. That was the same trick Regina tried to pull when he was younger and even then it didn't work. He suspected it was because she always did it when he refused to eat his vegetables, in which case he would insist that she ate it. It granted him many groundings when he became old enough to know better.

Pan sighed and took a generous bite out of the omelet. A spark of jealousy burned in Henry, but he suffocated it. Just because the food did nothing to Pan did not mean it was safe. Pan reminded Henry oddly of Rumpelstiltskin: charming on the outside, but always with some ulterior motive underneath.

"It's too bad you're willing to let good food go to waste. You'll never be able to appreciate my gift without replenishing your strength." It was a taunt or a trick, but it did not stop Henry's curiosity from being stroked. Henry's gaze slowly returned to Pan. He had finished the omelet, but did not touch the rest of the food.

"What gift?" The corners of Pan's lips curved upward.

Setting the plate down in Henry's lap again, he reached behind the log to retrieve something. Henry's eyes widened when he recognized what it was. It was a gleaming, white sword. Not a wooden one, but a real one. The handle was gilded in gold and the blade was so polished that Henry glimpsed a vague outline of his reflection in the steel. When he traced a finger along the edge of the blade, his skin sliced apart and a pearl of scarlet blood welled up from the fresh cut. Peter Pan's hand hovered over the cut and it instantly healed.

"It's a sword," Henry gasped in excitement. Peter Pan tilted his head.

"Is it? You mean…it's not wooden?" Henry turned back to the sword and watched in dismay as it changed. The blade lost its glamorous quality. The shine faded, the edge dulled, and the steel rusted away. Wood split the golden handle. Suddenly, Henry was looking at a plain wooden sword instead of a glorious real one. He frowned.

"What happened to it?" Peter Pan held it up to the light and admired it as though it were still a fancy sword.

"It's your imagination, Henry. Neverland thrives on imagination. If you imagine this to be a real sword, it will be." Pan extended the sword in his direction. Henry closed his eyes and envisioned that real sword again. "Open your eyes." Henry did as he was told and witnessed that sword in Pan's hand. No wood in sight.

"It worked!" Henry reached for the sword, but Pan drew it away.

"Ah-ah-ah! If you wish me to teach you about the ways of the sword, first you must have the proper strength to hold one. Eat," Pan commanded, pointing to the plate.

Henry stared from the sword to the plate, weighing his options. He could ignore the food, but that would also mean ignoring Pan's offering of sword-fighting. A skill such as sword-fighting might help him to escape the camp and survive long enough to find his family. It was a risk he had to take.

Henry feverishly bit into the toast and took another mouthful before the first one slid down his throat. Why, the food tasted more heavenly than he even imagined it would. Or maybe that was the trick: imagination. I imagine this to be the best food I've ever tasted, he thought as he stuffed more into his mouth. The flavors burst over his tongue, so intense and incomparable that Henry had no words to express his ecstasy. Pan leaned back on the log and watched on with amusement.

When Henry was finished and the plate was practically licked clean, Pan took away the plate and tossed the sword into Henry's lap. Henry grabbed ahold of the handle and got to his feet, eager to start the lesson. His hand faltered as it tried to accommodate the weight and feel of the sword. It was harder to control than he thought it would be. Charming made it look so easy in his fairy-tale book.

Pan stood up and approached the center of the camp. Henry did the same, the sword swinging at his side and occasionally trailing across the ground. The Lost Boys gathered around, sensing that a show was about to begin. Once they had reached the very center, Pan spun to face Henry. Instinctively, Henry hefted up the sword, using both hands to guide it.

"One hand, Henry. You must learn to treat your sword like your own hand if you desire to wield it effectively," Pan corrected. Henry removed his left hand from the hilt of the sword and experimentally swung the sword. "Take a few practice swings," Pan suggested, pointing to the log where they had previously been sitting.

Henry obediently dragged the sword over to the log. Using his right hand, he brought the sword down. It thwacked against the log, splitting the bark as easily as the blade had cut Henry's finger. It took all his strength to remove the blade from the log. Then he did it again. And again. Slowly but surely, he got used to lifting the sword and striking the log. When he felt confident about wielding the sword, he faced Pan once more.

"You're getting it. Now try to hit me. Show me what that prince had taught you," Pan said. Henry hesitated.

"You don't have a weapon," he pointed out. Pan's hands were empty. That automatically made it an unfair fight. Even if Peter Pan was the villain, Henry did not wish to hurt him. But Peter Pan did not look the least bit worried about potential vulnerability.

"Neither does a dragon," he replied calmly. He began to stalk around Henry. It must have been a test, so Henry followed Pan's footwork, always keeping him in sight. "A weapon does not have to be limited to a sword. Just because my hands are empty does not mean I am weaponless. So I say again: try to hit me." Pan put emphasis on the try, making it a challenge to further goad Henry into obeying.

Henry remembered Pan's magic and the way he controlled Neverland. There was nothing he couldn't do. Perhaps Henry needed the sword, after all. He darted forward, aiming for Pan's legs, but the ground beneath his feet quakes, making him stumbled to his knees. Henry knew Pan was the one responsible for it. Pan didn't falter once.

"Come on, Henry. Improvise," Peter Pan taunted, yawning.

Henry used the sword for support and regained his footing. The ground quaked again, but Henry jumped. It was an intense game of hopscotch, his feet bouncing left and right, avoiding the spots where the ground felt ready to crumble under his weight. The sword swung out, intent on striking Pan's thigh, but the blade crashed against an invisible wall. Henry was about to tell Pan that it was unfair, but Pan's hand snaked out and touched Henry's shoulder. The minute it did, Henry went flying backward. The sword fell from his hand.

The next thing he knew, Pan was standing over his body, soaked in smugness.

"I should have warned you. There's always a chance you'll meet an opponent that doesn't play fairly. You have much to learn." Pan shook his head pitifully. Henry leaned over and grabbed up the sword, warning Pan that he wasn't about to give up.

The sound of a scuffle arose behind them. Henry peered around Pan's legs to see Felix break through the line of trees. The other Lost Boys followed and in their hands was Regina. They dragged her along like a prisoner. Henry leaped to his feet and rubbed his tired eyes. It couldn't really be her…could it? The image certainly wasn't disappearing.

"Pan, take a look at what we caught," Felix called out. The Lost Boys led Regina into the center of the camp. She flung vulgar curses instead of magical ones and snapped her jaws whenever a pair of hands got too close to her face. The minute she spotted Henry, the strength left her limbs and she might have sunk to the ground if not for the Lost Boys restraining her.

"Henry?" His heart raced.

"M-om?" He took a step forward, but Pan placed a hand on his shoulder in caution. Pan sneered at the sight of the Evil Queen. Tendrils of iciness shot from Regina's ebony eyes in return. Henry didn't know why Regina didn't use her magic to escape….or why Pan was holding him back so fiercely. It was almost as though Regina posed a threat instead and Pan was his self-proclaimed protector.

"That is not your mother, Henry," Pan said. The hand on his shoulder held him back, but Henry figured it was meant to lend him comfort as well. "This woman kept you from your real mother, didn't she? She hurt you for much too long."

Henry's memories swirled in the back of his mind. All the times Regina had kept him from Emma. All the times she tried to kill the rest of his family. How she knew the truth about the curse the entire time and acted like he was crazy. With those unhappy memories came resentment. Henry fought hard not to let it cloud his judgment, but he failed to deny the truth of Peter Pan's words.

"Yes, but…she cares about me," he murmured. Regina would never hurt him on purpose. She struggled harder against the Lost Boys, fighting to reach her son. All it took was Felix placing his stick to the back of her head and she ceased moving.

"Does she?" Pan didn't sound convinced. Regina looked like she wanted to tear him limb from limb, if only she had hands to perform the murderous task. "For how can a person with a void in their heart ever love anyone? That was her price for casting the curse. She hurt you worse than anyone, didn't she? After all, she convinced everyone you were crazy for believing the truth. Didn't she?"

Yes.

It was true. Hadn't Henry admitted to it only moments ago, if only in his mind? What kind of mother made everyone in town believe that he was crazy when he really wasn't?

"Stop putting poison in my son's head," Regina growled. Peter Pan released Henry's shoulder to snap his fingers loudly, as though finally catching up with an elusive thought. Regina flinched, but her wicked glare returned when nothing happened. Meanwhile, Pan had dipped his head close to Henry's ear and continued speaking softly.

"Speaking of poison….She placed you under a sleeping curse, didn't she?" Henry nodded, remembering. A dark room filled with mirrors…He'd been so alone until his real mother woke him up.

"No, it was…." Regina started to object, but her words trailed off. Henry understood the reason. There was nothing she could say to justify what she did. The apple turnover was always meant for Emma, but Henry was the one that paid the price. Regina's dark eyes searched Henry's face, wide and pleading. Gleaming with moisture. "Henry, please—"

"Last time you were in Storybrooke, she had plans to destroy your entire world and everyone in it. Everyone you ever cared about ground into ashes and dust, all so she could have you to herself," Pan interrupted Regina, leaning closer to Henry's ear. And Henry turned his head slightly to listen. The resentment burned in his heart, a hole that could not be filled. "Quite selfish, if you ask me."

"Yes," Henry agreed. A tear escaped one of Regina's eyelids and trickled across her pale cheek. Henry didn't pay it any mind. Deception was one of the Evil Queen's favorite games.

"I'm sorry, Henry," she cried out, straining against the hands of the Lost Boys. They forced her arms over her back, fighting to keep her bound and still. "I'm so sorry. I regret all the hurt I ever caused you. All I wanted to do was be happy and love someone again. I failed. Give me another chance. Stop listening to Pan. I'm here to take you home."

Something occurred to Henry then, something that filled him with a sense of disquiet.

"Where are the others?" If Regina was in Neverland, then the rest of his family must be there….right? Regina wouldn't come for him alone…right?

"She was alone when we come across her," Felix announced, tapping the Evil Queen's head with his stick. It reminded Henry of Rafiki from The Lion King, but the ridiculous image did not succeed in making Henry laugh. He was too concerned about the fate of the rest of his family. If they weren't with Regina, where were they? Were they even alive?

Pan made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat.

"Of course she was alone. Why would she agree to bring along others when all they've ever done is try to take you from her? Well, Henry? Did she ever agree to share you with your real mother?"

Henry already knew the answer to that. The trigger, the brainwashing attempt, the poisoned turnover…

"No. She wouldn't," he said, shaking his head negatively.

"Henry—" Regina was on the verge of apologizing again, but Henry didn't think he could handle it. She apologized countless times in the past, but she never learned from her mistakes. She would eventually go on to repeat them again and again. It was an endless cycle of hurt, darkness, and disappointment.

"No, he's right! Everyone in town thought I was crazy! And you planned to have everyone killed with the trigger. Somehow, you thought that would make me love you. You planned to rip out Snow White's heart and make me think I loved you with a brainwashing curse. That's all you've ever done is hurt others. Me, my family…You'll never change. You don't know the first thing about love. And I don't want to go home with you."

Behind Henry's shoulder, Pan smiled. Music to his ears.

Dread spiraled across Regina's face. Her black head reared back as if Henry had physically slapped her. Her strength renewed itself and she broke free of the Lost Boys' hands, rushing toward Henry urgently. Felix never even had a chance to wind up his stick.

"Henry, I am so sorry—" She reached for him and he panicked.

"No, you're not," he yelled back. He swiped his hand through the air to bat her away. Only, he forgot his right hand was still clasped around the hilt of the sword. The tip of the blade slashed Regina's cheek. Her head snapped to the side and she screeched in agony. As Henry watched, both amazed and frightened over what he did, a stream of red fluid rained down over the cream of Regina's skin. It was a scarlet waterfall, pouring down over her lips and jaw. She lifted a hand to the cut and gaped at the blood that oozed between her fingers.

I didn't know…I didn't mean it…did I?

"She's upset you enough. Take her away," Pan ordered, turning his back on the Evil Queen. Regina did not fight as Felix grabbed her arm and yanked her along the path. She seemed in shock, her hand sliding over her cheek as though she expected the blood to miraculously disappear, a figment of her imagination or a gruesome nightmare.

No matter what she did, the blood still coated her fingertips.

"Where are you taking her?" Henry asked Pan. He did not remove his eyes from Regina until he could no longer see her through the trees. It must be somewhere close to the camp. Pan's hand slapped his back, jerking him away from his thoughts of Regina.

"Don't worry, Henry," he soothed. "She'll never hurt you again. You have my word." Then he raised Henry's arm in the air—the one grasping the sword—and addressed the entire camp. "To Henry! The vanquisher of evil, the bringer of light, and the heart of the truest believer! How shall we celebrate his valor?"

And the Lost Boys cheered. Henry couldn't help but be lost in their pride, all worries of Regina slithering away into the farthest corners of his mind.

…..

Night fell all too quickly. Nothing made sense in that world. It was worse than being drunk in Wonderland. Regina suspected that Pan controlled everything in Neverland, including the shifting light and dark. Knowing him, he was only doing it now to confuse her, to make her think more time had passed than actually did. Even if there was no such thing as time in Neverland, Regina felt it spilling through her fingers. It was only a matter of time that he killed her, now that he succeeded in turning Henry against her.

Regina couldn't sleep if her life depended on it. They had tossed her back into that tiny wooden cage like a feral dog. It was far too cramped and the cage kept rocking back and forth in the air. She supposed she should be grateful those brats hadn't taken sticks to the cage like a piñata. The jovial noise of a celebration drifted through the trees but she tried to ignore it. She didn't know what hurt more—the idea that Henry was being celebrated for warding off the Evil Queen or the fact that Henry had split her cheek open with a sword. She poked and picked at it in the darkness, biting harshly on the inside of her cheek when it stung.

Pan was a snake, even more of a snake than Rumpelstiltskin. Intruding on any possibility of happiness with Henry, whispering foul, poisonous things in his ear. If she ever escaped that cage, the first thing she would do was wring his neck like a crow that desperately needed to quit squawking.

The cage rocked a little more to the left. Regina wished it would stop. It felt like she was floating on waves, but it brought her no sense of peace. For some reason, it was colder in that part of the woods and Regina tucked her blazer tighter around her body. Or was this further punishment on Pan's part? Neverland's skies served as his eyes, the trees his limbs, every inch of soil belonging to his body. There was nothing he couldn't control, except those who chose to invade it. Without warning, the cage bounced. Regina tensed and scrabbled along the wood for something to hold. Was the cage breaking? Falling? It bounced again, making her stomach do somersaults. It felt like…someone was lowering her down.

But, why? Was it for her execution? Let them try, like so many had in the past. It was never Regina's wish to die, and so she always found a way to thwart death. Even when she had been blindfolded and threatened with execution by arrows, Snow White's innocence prevented her from carrying out the fatal deed.

The cage collided with the ground and Regina tumbled onto her side. Her cheek brushed the wooden bottom and she cried out in pain as it flamed. It was so dark beyond her cage that it took her a moment to realize her captor had opened the cage at all. A small shadow lingered in the opening. She sensed a pair of eyes on her body. It must be one of the small boys. Were the other Lost Boys waiting beyond the cage or was Pan cocky enough to send just one?

Before the boy could drag her from the cage, she willingly stepped out of it with her chin held high. Then she pushed the boy up against the cage and secured his arms to his side. The boy's feet stomped on her toes.

"Where is my son?" A silver glimmer sliced through the darkness as the boy twisted beneath her grip. A sword, she realized. But the only person that had a sword was…

"Right here…" Regina immediately let up on her grip. Fear and shame coursed along her shaky nerves. She hadn't known….or was this another trick of Pan's? His shadow had played this one once. Why should she fall for it again?

"Is it really you, Henry? Or Pan's shadow?" Henry straightened up and she saw him tilt his head curiously. It was always what he did when he had a question in mind. She longed to reach out and stroke his hair, to pull him into her arms. The cut on her cheek stung.

"Pan's shadow? What are you talking about?" Did he really not know anything? Or was he playing dumb? She decided to take the chance.

"Henry, the rest of your family is here. I don't know about your mother, Rumpelstiltskin, or Hook….there was a storm when we arrived here and they fell overboard…but I was with Snow and Charming. I got angry at them and stormed off…and then I saw you. In the forest. You said we had to run from Pan, but it was only his shadow leading me to the Lost Boys." Henry's head drooped.

"It's me. After I…cut you, I thought long and hard about why the Lost Boys and Pan would put you in front of me that way. I meant what I said, that I don't want to go home with you…until we find the others. We have to get out of here before the Lost Boys show up again." He scanned the forest in search of any moving figures. Regina imagined that her boy had been clever enough to trail the Lost Boys out to the cage. Regina tugged Henry into her arms. Miraculously, his arms circled her waist and hugged her back. "I'm sorry I did that to you."

Henry's hand touched the cheek that wasn't cut. She guessed he didn't want to touch the one that was cut and cause her more unnecessary pain. Somehow, it didn't sting as much as it had moments prior.

"Never mind that. Henry, did you mean everything else you said, too?" She squinted her eyes to try to see his face through the darkness. It was too dark, but she felt his hands fall from her back.

"Yes," he admitted. Regina's heart cracked. "There's something wrong with this place. With Pan. When you were standing there in front of me, and he kept reminding me about everything you've ever done to hurt me and my family, it was too hard to hold in anymore. Everything I kept inside came bursting out…and it felt good. By the way, why couldn't you use any of your magic on Pan?"

Regina rubbed the bracelet around her wrist. It refused to budge.

"Pan put this enchanted bracelet on me to stop me from using my magic. It's the same one Greg and Tamara used when they captured me. It won't come off," she grumbled. She attempted to dig her nails under the strap, but it was practically glued to her skin. With Henry's suggestion, she even imagined it would fall off, but the bracelet singed her skin when she did that. It was useless. No magic.

"We'll figure it out later," Henry said, gripping her hand. "We have to leave."

Together they raced into the darkness of the forest. Henry used his sword to cut away any branches and obstacles in their path. They barely created any distance between them and Pan's camp when twigs snapped to their right. Henry stopped and eyed the bushes suspiciously. It must have been the Lost Boys searching for him. Pan would send even more into the woods when he realized Regina was also missing. She silently pointed to the left, just in case they were within hearing distance. Henry whirled and guided her that way—

"Where do you two think you're going?" Someone stood in their way. Regina recognized the voice without having to glimpse the shaggy hair. The boy with the stick. He hadn't formally introduced himself, but she overheard that his name was Felix. Not again, she thought. She looked down at Henry, expecting to see that shadow again, but he courageously raised his sword to defend her. "Isn't that sweet. Mother and son reunited. Unfortunately, Henry, Pan isn't finished with you yet. And as for you…"

Regina felt his searing gaze roam over her cut cheek.

"If you think you're tossing me back in that cage, you won't live to see another day," she threatened. Felix chuckled. His stick rolled between his palms.

"Who said anything about putting you back in the cage?" Shivers slid down Regina's spine. If they weren't planning to put her back in the cage, then what were they going to do with her? Strike her down? She accepted the challenge. "Pan never gives second chances."

Felix lifted his hand and beckoned to something unseen. Regina knew what it was and she pushed Henry aside, urging him toward the trees.

"Henry, run." He clung to her arm, but she steered him away. If they were doing what she thought they were doing, Henry didn't want to see this. She'd heard stories from the Lost Boys when they were bringing her back to her cage. Fictitious stories, she assumed, to put the fear of Pan and his shadow in her, but it did not work then. One of those stories involved Pan's shadow and how he often stripped the shadows of living beings, leaving them as huddled masses in the forest.

Henry offered her one last long look before ducking into the surrounding forest. She wished him goodbye in her mind because her lips were frozen, unable to form words. A blanket of blackness descended over her head, pierced through with two yellow orbs. Pan's shadow. She felt its whispery hands dig into her neck as it swooped down, felt the agonizing pain of her shadow being ripped from her body. It felt like the shadow was sucking out her soul, a creature far worse than the wraith. Her throat burned and a terrible scream tore through the air…Was it her own? Everything spun in circles, she couldn't tell which way was up, and suddenly her face met the damp, cold soil. She plunged into the depths of darkness, frigid and alone, her mind wandering without restraint while her shadow soared free.

Her last thought was of Henry, along with a weak prayer that he escaped.

….

Henry ran hard and fast. The muscles in his legs pumped harder than ever had before. His lungs ached for air, but he dared not stop for a fresh breath. Twisted roots spurted from the ground, curling around his ankles like greedy fingers, but he broke free and kept running. The sword almost fell from his hand more than once. He couldn't stop. Not while he still heard Regina's screams echoing through the trees.

Regina…

He had hope…

Tears blurred his vision, making it impossible to see anything through the darkness. He finally paused to slump before a tree trunk and wipe the tears away. Regina was gone. Pan's shadow had killed her, by the sound of it. The sword felt much too heavy in his hands now and he leaned it against the tree. What was he going to do? He shouldn't have run. He should have stayed and fought for Regina. But then the Lost Boys might be leading him back to Pan's camp by now, to finish whatever business Pan had in mind. Where was he going to run?

The others. He had to find the others.

Snow and Charming were wandering around somewhere in Neverland. Regina said she wasn't sure what happened to Emma, Rumpelstiltskin, and Hook, but Henry knew they were alive if not well. He had to have hope that they were looking for him. That was enough to inspire him to carry on.

Better start running again, he thought miserably. The Lost Boys would be looking for him now that Regina's screams had died away. He sniffled again and used his sleeve to dry his eyes. His hand reached down to find the hilt of the sword…but it wasn't there. Henry lurched away from the tree, fresh panic welling up in his chest. He crawled on the ground in search of the sword in case it fell, but it was nowhere to be found. The sword was gone. But how…?

"Looking for this?" Henry froze in the process of fumbling over the ground. Slowly he turned to face Pan. It was just like their early sword-fighting session, except Pan was the one holding the sword and Henry's hands were empty. He was not a dragon and he did not have magic at his disposal. "I gave you this sword as a gift and you threw it back in my face. How rude."

Henry stared longingly at the sword in Pan's hand. He closed his eyes and imagined the way the sword felt in his own hand, heavy but strong. Pan issued a confused murmur. Henry opened his eyes to find the weight of the sword in his grasp once more. His imagination must be powerful, after all. According to Pan, he did have the heart of the truest believer.

Henry waved the sword through the air victoriously. There was only one way of escaping at the moment and it involved going through Peter Pan. Armed with sword and imagination alike, Henry raced toward Pan. Once he got close enough, he would skirt around Pan and disappear into the woods, knocking out Pan with the sword if he had to. He wouldn't kill him, though. Only villains resorted to such disgraceful means.

He got close….he raised the sword to encourage Pan to step aside….but the steel dissolved into water, raining down around Henry's feet. All that was left was the golden hilt. Henry examined it in dismay. How was he supposed to fix that? Reverse the water into steel? Imagine a whole new blade for the sword? Before Henry could attempt either option, Pan slapped the hilt out of Henry's hand. It was quickly swallowed by the shadows. Pan wasn't smiling.

What right did he have to be angry?

"Your shadow killed my mom," Henry exclaimed, his frustration building.

"The shadow did not kill her, Henry. All it did was take her shadow. When someone has their shadow forcibly ripped from their body, it's the same as having one's soul sucked out by a wraith. I promise you, there is a way to restore her shadow and bring her back to you. If you'll only come with me." Pan offered his hand, but Henry did not accept it. The last thing he wanted to do was go anywhere with him. Pan appeared to consider Henry for a long time. Then his hand dropped. "I must admit, you were very brave to challenge me. And your imagination is more powerful than any I have encountered. Perhaps I was wrong to keep you in the dark for so long."

"What do you mean?" Henry took a step back, preparing to run if need be. Unfortunately, it was a game of cat and mouse for Pan. The more Henry drew away, the more Pan pursued.

"I mean, Henry, that it's time you learned the truth about why I brought you to this land." This time when Pan extended his hand, Henry took it.