The first night that we sleep in the house, I wake up alone in my room from another nightmare. This one was a lot like the other, with pieces and fragments of my life in Neverland mixed in with complete terror. Pan's face and laugh were everywhere, ringing in my ears at a deafening volume. I felt my hands being pulled at and my hair being caught in branches and little boys' grubby little fingers. The smell of the jungle suffocated me and the sounds of it and the cheers and cries of the Lost Boys mixed into the melee of Pan's laughter and I felt as if I were drowning in the noise.

I wake up in a cold sweat, grasping for breath, the sheets tangled around my limbs. I gasp for breath and I shove down the air. Tears stream down my face. I want to scream so badly, to call one of my brothers to my side, but I don't want the blank stares of them not understanding how I feel. Of course, they are sorry that I feel this way and want me to feel better, but they've never been captives on Neverland, they've never felt my fear over every little thing. They can't grasp it. It's better if they don't know. And because of this, I choke down my screams and sobs. I cover my mouth with my hands and cry. I shake so violently that I fear I'll shatter into a million pieces.

I sit on my bed, with my knees up to my chin and cry as quietly as I possibly can. The moonlight streams in and bathes the room in white. I can see everything perfectly, but I still feel as if the Shadow is there, in my room, spying on me and waiting for the right moment to come and choke me with its inky black claws.

Overwhelmed by the sense that the Shadow is in my room, I quickly light a candle and dash out of there as quickly as possible. I quickly pad down the stairs and make my way to the backyard of the manor. There isn't much furniture inside or outside, but I still manage to trip on the old furniture that we can't decide whether to keep or not. Getting furniture here is not as convenient as it was in Storybrooke, everything has to be ordered and made. We only have sheets and mattresses because Neal paid the woman at the furniture store a hefty fee to have the materials that same day.

I creep through the dining room and then through the empty kitchen and slowly creep out the back door into the garden that is really just a tangle of vines and bushes. I've slowly been getting it back in order, but there is so much work that needs to be done, I've hardly managed to clear a square meter.

By the edge of the yard, there is a bench that sits next to an old oak tree that looks out over the pond. I creep through the garden and turn around the tree to find a spot there, but nearly jump out of my skin when I see that someone is already standing there.

"Neal!" I exclaim. "You gave me such a fright!"

Neal looks up at me and grins. He looks just about as sleep-deprived as me. His hair has become much more peppered with grey over the past little while and there are deep set bruises underneath his eyes. But he still looks just as he did when I found him in our attic, tired, lonely and altogether wonderful. Having him live with me again has made my heart whole again. I can't imagine being apart from him ever again and I have trouble comprehending that I spent a century without him. He has a piece of my heart, just as John and Michael do.

Neal scratches the back of his head and offers a shy grin. "Sorry, Wen. Didn't mean to scare you," he offers. He shuffles over on the bench and offers me some space. I set my candle down on the ground beside us and take my seat next to him. "Couldn't sleep?" he asks mildly.

I shake my head. "And you couldn't sleep either?" Neal shakes his head also. "Why not?"

Neal shrugs and runs his hand through his hair. "The transitions been hard," he explains. "I lost a lot of family coming here." His words a laced with longing and I can tell that a piece of his heart is back on Earth with Emma and Henry and God knows where with Gold.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "If there's one thing I understand, Neal, it's missing family."

I see Neal's grin in the darkness. "Yeah, Wendy, you'd be an expert in that by now." I giggle at his joke. It's not very funny, but it does relieve some of my stress. But soon we both sober and he continues on, "I didn't have them for a very long time, but I feel like my soul's been ripped apart without Emma and Henry. I need to get them back." I glance up at him and I look at him intently, and I hope that he knows that I understand him with all my heart, that I know the need to go to the ends of the earth to be reunited with his family.

"I'll help you, Neal, with anything you need. I know what it feels like to be separated from family," I say, placing my hand over his. He looks over at me and smiles.

"I know, Wendy. It's who you are," he says. "You're the example I'll follow. It's amazing what you did, what you do." I blush and turn away. I've never heard praise for what I did in Neverland. Only Peter's jeers about never being reunited with my family. "Thank you for that. I should have thanked you a while ago. But thank you for everything you did, to get me back. You're the best sister in the world." I can hear Neal's voice thick with tears. I feel my own throat close up too.

"I'd do anything for you, Neal. You're the best brother in the world, besides John and Michael, of course," I say and I put my head on his shoulder.

I feel Neal's rumble of a laugh. "Whatever you say, Wendy. I know I'm the favourite." I burst out laugh and elbow him in the arm.

"You are not!" I exclaim. I poke him in the arm. "You're just the most troublesome. Always running off, hiding in attics. My goodness, trouble follows you everywhere." Neal laughs, too. And we both enjoy the pure moment of just being siblings and teasing each other.

Eventually, we sober again and sit in silence for a little while, until Neal breaks it. "Why can't you sleep?" he asks quietly.

I shrug. "I've been having these nightmares ever since I got back. I can't shake them. I just don't want to go back to them."

Neal nods. "Why didn't you wake one of us?"

I shrug again. "I don't know. I just feel like maybe you three wouldn't understand. When it happened on the first night back in Storybrooke, John and Michael really didn't understand what was going on… I don't know how to explain it to them, how I feel," I say quietly. I swallow down the terror I feel inside of me just thinking about my nightmares.

"Hey," Neal says softly, pushing my hair behind my ear. "Wendy, did you forget that I was also in Neverland? I may not have had the same experience, but I understand where you're coming from. I know how you feel. I had those nightmares, too."

"How did you get rid of them?" I ask, desperately hoping for a solution.

"I found outlets," Neal says. "I buried myself in things that weren't Pan. I moved on. But they're never fully gone away. I doubt it will ever happen." Neal sighs and rubs his face. "It was terrify what we went through. I don't even know if I want to think about it now. We, as humans, don't have the capacity to ever fully shake it." He shakes his head and looks glumly out over the pond. "I don't know, Wendy. Maybe now that we have each other we can keep moving on, together."

I smile and take his hand. "I like that," I say. "Together."