AN: I promise I'm not dead. I got caught up with other things, but I'm writing again! I will finish this if it kills me. The good thing is there's only one more chapter left after this. ; )

Isle of the Lost

Part X: The Time We Have

"Nothing more innocent than a newborn babe," Zelena mused. It was as much for herself as it was for her companion. An unwilling companion, but one nonetheless.

"And you, my sweet, are most innocent of all. The product of the truest love."

She set the wide-eyed baby down in the basket, then turned on her heel to face the man that regarded her coolly. Her calculated steps took her across the large, circular symbol carved into the barn's ground floor, Rumpelstiltskin's dagger in hand. A cross split the circle into four points, at each point an ingredient of her spell—all of which stolen.

"Once I change the past, you and I shall meet under different circumstances." She meant this as a promise. "You will choose me, and I will be enough."

"No you won't," he replied simply, and gave a promise of his own. "And no matter where you go in time, I will find a way to kill you."

Her blue eyes were piercing in the relative darkness, but he reveled in the satisfaction of seeing the slightest hint of uncertainty. She covered it with a nonchalant chuckle, and began her spell.

Wendy stepped out of the hospital room with a sigh, closing the door gently behind her. Belle met her there with two cups of coffee in hand.

"How's she holding up?" she asked.

"About as well as to be expected," Wendy replied. "Did you eat something?"

"The sandwiches are actually pretty good here, but I figured you could use a pick-me-up too." Belle held out one of the disposable cups, and Wendy took it with a quiet thanks, her gaze downcast.

"Are you okay?" Belle eyed her with concern. Wendy shook her head.

"I'm fine," she said, but the words sounded hollow, even to her own ears. "This whole thing is just…"

"Wrong," Belle finished for her. The other woman nodded, but she could tell there was still something off.

"Where is…um…Peter?" she asked. Even she could admit, the name sounded strange on her lips. But there was too much associated with the name "Pan" for her to call him that, since he seemed to be doing his best to be a better person.

It was odd enough for her anyway, knowing someone so boyish looking was actually her Rumple's father.

"I don't know," Wendy said. Her mouth had involuntary dipped into a frown at the question. "Downstairs, maybe."

Belle didn't want to intrude, but she was becoming more curious (and concerned) by the moment as to why the other girl seemed so down. She had seemed fine when Peter led her into a hospital room to check her for injuries. When Belle stepped out to get Mary Margaret some water, Wendy had come out of the room with Dr. Whale, who had cleared her for now. Peter hadn't been there.

"How could you have let her escape?"

Belle was startled out of her thoughts when the double doors nearby were forced open. Peter and Regina quarreled back and forth while storming their way down the hall.

"She teleported before I could grab the damn amulet," Regina raged in frustration.

"What about the baby?" Belle asked worriedly.

"He's safe with his father until we find her."

"But now she could be anywhere!" Peter exclaimed.

"Simmer down," Wendy told him sternly. "Mary Margaret is finally resting."

"We should move her," Belle suggested. "Zelena knows she's here."

Regina scoffed. "She knows she'll get caught if she shows up here."

"What about Rumple? Is she still controlling him?" Peter asked. Regina shook her head.

"No. We were able to separate her from the dagger…he's actually looking for her now."

Belle breathed a sigh in relief.

"Thank goodness," she murmured. Wendy laid a hand on her shoulder, offering a small smile in support which the other woman was grateful for.

Regina breezed past them, irking Peter. Here they were, trying to make a plan, and she walks away?

"Where the hell are you going?" She tossed a dark look at him over her shoulder.

"Not that I answer to you, but I'm checking on Mary Margaret."

"She's asleep," Wendy warned her.

"We know, Wendy," Peter snapped. She turned on him with narrowed eyes.

"You'd better watch your temper with me," she said tersely, and jabbed a finger at his chest. "Just because you're frustrated doesn't mean you have to take it out on everyone else."

Peter looked down at her, matching her blue-eyed annoyance with his green.

"Frustrated doesn't begin to cover it—"

Belle gasped loudly, alerting the two to the open door of Mary Margaret's room. Regina was inside, holding up a placating hand against Zelena's threatening one. The witch's auburn hair had tumbled out of its neat pins, and half fell around her shoulders in disarray. It matched the crazed look in her eyes as the woman in the bed started to stir, but the sedatives Dr. Whale gave her kept her asleep, and blissfully unaware of her danger.

"Give it up, sis. We know you can't best me now," Regina mocked.

"Ah, but it's not over. My work can still be finished," Zelena countered. "Bring me the child, and her mother will live. It's quite simple, really."

Peter pushed Wendy back with his arm and gripped Zelena's body with constrictive magic, then pulled. With a confused gasp, the Wicked Witch was yanked swiftly out of the room through the doorway, crashing hard into the wall. Air knocked out of her lungs, she slid to the floor in the hallway. Eventually she regained her bearings, coughing and moving slowly onto her hands and knees.

Regina was there to yank the amulet from her neck, cutting Zelena off from her powers.

"It is over," Regina smirked. "Thanks for the jewelry."

Zelena growled in anger, but just as she would've barked a stinging reply, she suddenly found herself unable to breathe. She clutched at her neck with wide, scared eyes as she started to choke.

Regina looked up in confusion, but it melted to surprise when she saw her cousin step in the way of Peter Pan.

"Peter, please," she implored to him. Her hand was on his arm, the one that was outstretched in front of him.

"I promised my son. I promised you," he gritted out. A few more seconds and the score would be settled. The aching thirst he felt in the pit of his stomach to hurt as he had hurt, as his son had been hurt…the desire was overwhelming. Wendy drew closer, her other hand on his shoulder helping her to reach his ear as her other hand gripped his wrist tightly.

"Wouldn't it be better for her to live the rest of her life knowing that she'll never have power again?" Wendy asked him quietly. "Killing her now will only satisfy you for a short time and…you'll keep following this path forever."

It's difficult, and the witch was nearly spent, but…Peter lowered his hand and allowed his hold to break. Zelena's gasping breaths broke the tense quiet, and Peter held Wendy to him tighter than he meant to. But she allowed it.

Regina tucked the amulet safe within her vault, in the most heavily warded drawers, and under lock and key. Her sister was similarly locked at the sheriff's station, in jail where she belonged. But the former queen wondered if it was enough to keep her in, as well as keep others like Rumpelstiltskin and Pan out.

She began to search the dusty drawers she hadn't opened in decades, since before the Curse. Some things were just trinkets from her old life—old spells, potions, objects stolen from her prisoners.

Eventually she came to a drawer deep enough to house a wooden box, equally dusty and cobweb infested. She wiped the thing off and her brows furrowed, because she honestly didn't recognize it. The hell is this?

Even the key it needed to fit the lock was laced with magic, and she found it in the drawer of her vanity. Finding the key knocked the elusive memory loose, making her hands still over the box.

It can't be…

She honestly thought it had been misplaced when she created the Curse. There was a night she spent hours looking for it, if only to settle her curiosity when things in Storybrooke got a bit too monotonous.

But as much as it pained her, Regina knew who to visit next.

"You know, not long ago I was a lot like you. I wanted to kill someone who wronged me, and I failed," she sighed. The woman sitting in the old cell before her was bitter, repressed, and as Regina now realized, a very sad person.

"Had I killed Snow White I wouldn't be in this word, with these people. And I wouldn't have my son," she continued. "So no, Zelena. I won't kill you. Instead, I'll offer you what I got: a second chance."

Zelena's eyes were red with tears when she hissed back, "And if I don't want it?"

"Evil isn't born, it's made," Regina softly replied. "So is good, for that matter. But…I think what you need is time."

She stood, and looking back over her shoulder, she gestured to the figure that waited in the shadows of the room. Zelena scoffed.

"And what are you doing here?"

Wendy came forward carrying a large, leather-bound book in the crook of her arm.

"How familiar are you with blood spells?" she asked. Zelena's eyes widened in shock (and with a hint of fear).

"What the hell is this supposed to be?" she asked. "You just said you wouldn't kill me!"

"And we won't," Wendy promised. "But, in the time it takes for us to figure out a way to undo this spell, perhaps you'll be ready for a second chance. It's actually quite lucky that we're all related."

She looked to Regina with a smile, and a question in her eyes. Regina nodded and gestured onward.

"By all means, do the honors."

Wendy opened the book and recited the words she knew from memory. Once Zelena realized what was happening, her cries for mercy fell on deaf ears as magic charged in the air, and the portal opened, swallowing her up. When the spell was done, Wendy quickly shut the book.

In front of her was a tall man, graying to be sure, but he was exactly as she remembered him. His dark eyes met hers, shock and amazement and hope finding her happy tears.

"Wendy?" he breathed, looked down at himself, his hands, then looked back up at her. "Wendy."

"Hi, Papa." When she found herself crushed in a warm embrace she hadn't felt since she was a little girl, with hot tears burning down her face, she felt as if a large piece of her heart had finally been mended.

And then an awkward cough broke the moment.

"Uh, I'll just…go."

He glanced over at her, and had to double-take.

"Regina?"

"Uncle Garen," she replied hesitantly, but amicably. "Nice to see you."

"A lot of time has passed, Papa," Wendy assured him with a hand on his arm. "Without her help, I wouldn't have been able to come here, or finally bring you out."

"I see," Garen nodded. He then looked around curiously. "Let me guess, we're on Earth."

"Uh, yes. We're in a town called Storybrooke…how did you know?" Regina asked. Garen sighed.

"As hard as it may be to believe, I am older than I look. The title and occupation of Pagemaster does not come without extensive knowledge of other worlds," he said. "What I am curious to know, is how you were able to come here from the Enchanted Forest."

Wendy shared a look with Regina.

"Maybe you should come outside first. There are some people you should meet."

Once outside of the sheriff's station, Garen's introduction to David went well once he explained how he and Snow White became king and queen, and have pretty much stayed in those roles here in Storybrooke, while also sharing responsibilities with Regina. Garen accepted his invitation to stay in town, while thanking him for being so accommodating to a stranger.

"I'd like to say things are usually peaceful, but…" David rubbed the back of his neck with a strained smile. "Well, there's good people here."

"I understand, your majesty," Garen inclined his head. David looked as if he would say he didn't need any "your majesties" or "your highnesses," but he shook his head and smiled instead.

"Well, I should be getting back to my wife and son, but I'm sure Wendy and Regina'll show you around."

Regina gave him an annoyed look at volunteering her, but she rolled her eyes at his smile.

"Are you hungry?" Wendy asked her father. "There are some people waiting for us at Granny's…it's a restaurant."

"It's a diner," Regina corrected flatly. "Good food. Basically the only restaurant in town."

Garen nodded.

"Lead the way."

The shock of seeing John and Michael alive and grown up almost sent her father to his knees, but the shock of the two boys (now almost men) seeing their father again after so many years of suppressed memories was even greater—a thought that wasn't lost on Wendy, or the young man that sidled behind her.

"Are you sure I should meet him now?" Peter asked her. She wiped the tears from her eyes but didn't turn away from the scene of her brothers laughing and joking with their father while sitting at a table together. For the life of her, she couldn't remember the last time she heard him laugh. It must've been before her mother died.

"If he could forgive Regina, he'll understand you," Wendy said, looking up at him with warm, if still teary eyes. Peter raised a hand to her cheek and brushed his thumb under her eyes. He let out a sigh through his nose.

"Okay."

It was then that Garen looked up and saw his daughter being touched by a young man. But he resisted his first reaction of drawing his magic to analyze the picture in front of him; the way she smiled and leaned into him, the way the boy looked at her softly. He was familiar, that boy.

"Michael," he said, "Who is that?"

Michael and John followed their father's line of vision, then shared a look between them, both wondering how they would explain this.

"Well…" Michael started.

"He's…" John tried to finish, but neither could think of anything that wouldn't make trouble for their sister. Luckily, Wendy was perceptive enough to realize when she was being watched, and came over to the table with the young man's hand in her own.

"Papa, this is Peter," she said. "You…met before."

"Sir," Peter offered his hand, but to his credit, he didn't falter when Garen didn't take it.

"Your face is familiar," he said, frowning as his brows furrowed. And he had the distinct feeling that their meeting wasn't on good terms.

Peter sighed and straightened, then sat directly across from Garen.

"I was once known by another name. What you'll recognize best is Peter Pan."

"This is madness, Wendy. It's one thing to say Cora's daughter has changed. It is another entirely to say the Dark One himself is no longer a monster, let alone the demon of Neverland."

"It's true, Papa. I've just spent hours telling you the whole story, why can't you see—"

"That you allowed yourself to have feelings for the one who stole your brothers, who kept you prisoner—"

"But Papa…he let them go. In a way, he did."

"You could have let him die on that island."

"…I could have, yes."

"Why didn't you?"

"I saw good in him…I couldn't let him die."

Peter forced himself to listen. He stayed by their bedroom door for half a night listening to the conversation taking place in the living room of their small house. It wasn't difficult, since Garen's deep voice tended to carry.

He waited until he could hear footsteps coming down the hall before moving from the door and sitting at the nearby desk, picking up a pen and notepad and pretending to jot things down when the bedroom door opened.

Wendy closed the door behind her and almost dropped onto the queen-sized bed, emotionally and physically spent.

Peter came to sit on the edge of the bed, carding his fingers through her long hair.

"He'll come around," Wendy sighed. "He just needs time."

"He's right, Wendy," Peter said after a moment. She looked up at him, frowning, and sat up until she was sitting across from him.

"I don't know how many years I've lived, but I've lived them horribly," he admitted. Only to her, he could admit it. "I'm not someone who deserves a happy ending, least of all with you."

"Do you want to leave me?" she asked. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were already glassy and red-rimmed. He took her hands in his, despite himself.

"No," he shook his head. Wendy smiled slightly.

"I forgave you a long time ago, you know."

"Doesn't mean I agree with you," Peter smiled a little back.

"Will you leave me?" Her smile faded with the question, and his did as well.

"I left you in that hospital room, because even though I feel…there's still a part of me that views it as weakness," Peter said. "I've always feared being weak."

And it was a trait he unknowingly passed onto his son.

He gripped her hands tighter, yet still gentle. It took him another moment to gather what he needed to say, because it was the truth. He'd never been good with the truth.

"But now…I fear losing you more."

She didn't speak for a while, though her thumbs caressed his hand as she remained deep in thought. Eventually, she looked up at him with another small smile.

"Do you know why I said what I did?" she asked. Peter shook his head negatively, because he honestly didn't know what it was about him that she claimed to love. That she could love.

"You make me feel too. More than anyone," Wendy said. "You care about what I think, and who I am. In your twisted way, you always did."

His lips twitched upward at that, but didn't complete a smile.

"You saw something in me that was special," she continued. "Even though I didn't see it in myself."

It was her curiousness, her tenacity and passion for learning and experiencing new things that drew him in. It was her gentleness that made him stay.

"Do you still want to see the worlds you haven't seen?" he asked her, recalling their promise. But he dimmed at the reminder that she had only just reunited with her father—that her family was finally whole again. It made him feel somewhat like an intruder. "Though I suppose not, now."

Wendy bit her lip, her expression visibly conflicted.

"I'd like to get to know the people here a little better," she said after a bit. "I'd like to see my father warm up to you…"

"I understand," Peter said. To stop the guilt he saw in her eyes, he leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips.

"We have time again. For everything."