Ninety seven years ago Wendy celebrated her birthday in tunnels under the rubble of a bombed out London with cheery, strange people. For many years she toyed with the question if the odd and magical night had really happened or if it had been a dream. Not because she doubted the magic that seemed to pulse around her but the possibility that she had really been that happy once. Almost a hundred years later she was hit with that uncertainty again but this time it was because it was too magical to be real.

Everything was a blur, her mind a whirling carousel of lights, music and laughter. After their embrace Wendy had been pulled out of his arms by the sound of music and the strange, leaping current that was sweeping through her blood. Never had she felt so free, so wild and all the worries and disappointments faded as her body was flooded with the most intoxicating substance, the lingering tingle of it still on her tongue.

The fairy gathering was not a wake for a sunk island, there were no eulogies or laments. It wasn't even a party, it was an orgy. She danced and danced until she couldn't stand, until she was being pulled around in circles, the tips of her boots sliding against the shiny floor. She was pushed upright and flung to the next dancer and she did not care. She was celebrating the destruction of her home, of her prison and she would do it with a grin. But soon every rational thought disappeared as she grabbed a goblet filled with water and drank thirstily.

Glamour glittered over everything and soon it brushed off on her, fooling her eyes and tricking her mind until she was no longer dressed for the cold of Storybrooke but sweeping along the floor in a white gown that sparkled with jewels, her hair gathered up in pearls and feathers. It was almost bridal.

Peter…

The name lashed through her mind, like a cry of someone drowning and she had an impression of a young man watching her like an angry hawk, trying to get to her but then she was twirled away and he was gone. Some tiny, closed off part of her mind knew that something was terribly wrong, knew that her mind could not sustain what it was enduring for much longer. Like in Neverland time in the court was abnormal but at least on the island it was always the same. Here it leaped like a hare or suddenly crawled until she had no idea if it was day or night. As she was spun to the edge of the dance floor she was grabbed and ripped away from the clinging dancers. A pair of angry green eyes peered into her face and she tried to place him.

"You ate the food, didn't you?"

"Peter!" she cried, smiling dreamily. She felt drunk but this intoxication was like nothing she had experienced. The need for excitement and fun stared to blend into something far more carnal. She gazed up at him, her lips curling as she ran a hand down his chest and flicked her fingers against his belt buckle.

"Humans shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be here. I bet Blue wanted this to happen," he grabbed her wrist, breathing hard and her smile widened.

"You wanted me to stay the night," she breathed and pressed herself against him. Why she should not, why she should be pushing him away and demanding to be shown the way home was just a faint echo across her mind. She wanted him and she knew he wanted her.

Peter sighed, breath playing over her face and he leaned down but stopped, hesitating. He then swooped down and kissed her forehead roughly before he picked her up. Wendy was half carried from the hall and the loss of the music, the fairies and even more the food was a physical blow. But gradually, with that distraction gone, she focused on Peter with a hot and hungry need.

Legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck she kissed his face, pressing her hot mouth to his but he suddenly dropped her and she bounced onto a bed. They were in the chamber Wendy woke up in earlier. He stood staring down at her, trying to control his breathing as she sat up on her knees and gripped his belt again, pulling him closer until his legs hit the bed.

"Have you missed me?"

"You know I have…you're enchanted right now Wendy, you do realise that?"

She batted the comment away, unconcerned. She leaned up and kissed the underside of his jaw and he started to breathe very heavily, his fists curling. Those without a heart all succumb to the need to feel something and sexual gratification was the surest route to that. It was a momentary release but for just a moment the heartless feel a flood of pleasure.

Peter would call that weak but now he wavered.

As Wendy pressed her mouth to the corner of his mouth he growled and pushed her back down onto the bed. Hair fanned out in curls around her head she watched him crawl up beside her, hook his arm around her body and then pull her further up the bed with him. Back to him Wendy turned her head, beginning to feel frustrated.

"You're going to sleep," he said firmly and she whined. It was a pitiful sound and if she was in her right mind she would feel ashamed but right at that moment she writhed and groaned, body rubbing against him and he inhaled sharply as her hand snaked back between them. He was hard and she wanted to feel him in her hand but she couldn't unbuckle his belt. Peter moaned and pulled her hand away, grabbed the other and pushed her hands down with his own until they were trapped between their legs. She mewed, burying her face into the pillow as she grinded back against him, making him pant and swear until he pressed his mouth against her bare shoulder until he couldn't take it anymore and bit her.

Wendy had no clue how long this lasted for but when she finally sank into sleep Peter was all but lying on her back and as her body relaxed he slumped in relief. She did not know if he slept at all that night but when she awoke some time later with a gentle but persistent hunger he pulled her back and she slept again, too tired to argue.

Next morning she woke to find her jeans and sweater flung over a chair, leaving her in a lace trimmed vest and knickers. She must have undressed during the night. She turned to find Peter asleep beside her. It was such a normal sight that for a moment she thought she was back in Neverland.

He did not sleep peacefully, he never did and Wendy leaned down to brush his hair back from his forehead, noting the way it was furrowed. She knew the things that plagued his dreams, the nightmares and terrible memories but she thought he dreamed of something else now. Losing the island…or losing her? Leaning over him she became aware of a strange sensation. It was not a hangover, she did not fell groggy or sore but quite the opposite. She felt energised but in the aching core of that feeling was a ravenous need. She wanted more of that wonderful fruit. As Peter stirred in the middle of his nightmare Wendy sat up and attempted to get out of bed when she was pulled back down.

"I know what you want. No more," he said tiredly and Wendy opened her mouth to argue when he placed a finger to her lips. "You eat anymore and you won't be able to leave. It offers no nutrition to humans, you'll eat and eat and wither away. It's like a drug. Surely you know the dangers of eating fairy food?"

"I was hungry," she replied, starting to feel ashamed. She didn't think of the consequences.

"No more of it, not even water."

The events of the night before whirled about her head and she tried to make sense of it but it was useless. It was like a fragmented dream but she remembered vividly how aroused she felt, how much she wanted him and how doggedly he rebuffed her.

"You took care of me," she said and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Why do you sound surprised?"

"You don't have a heart, I didn't think you'd care," she said and rose from the bed and Peter sat up with her. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as she got dressed. As she sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots he moved to sit beside her and she looked at him, battling the need to cry.

"You can't stay here Wendy," he said gently and she shook her head angrily.

"But you can? I suppose the food doesn't affect you because you're not wholly human," the words had a bite to them but he just stared at her with a hollow gaze.

"You're right I'm not. Even as a child I grew acclimatised to it," he explained and then stared at the opposite wall. "Since coming here, since the island was destroyed I've started to remember things from my past. I remember you."

Wendy swallowed, not liking the look in his eyes. "What do you remember?"

"You left me, you slept with me and then you left without a goodbye. Because you left I played the pipes and made myself forget. I forgot you and Blue and everything. I'd never felt so hurt…" he said and then smirked. "That's why I don't want my heart back, it's only a liability."

"Am I a liability to you? Is that what I am? I think I must be," she turned away, feeling a rolling awful bitterness and misery but then jerked when he took hold of her hand.

"No you're not but someone else is," he whispered and leaned close to her. "I'm not staying here to hurt you, or because I blame you for what happened. I can only get back at Blue if I'm close to her and I can't do that if you're here. Once she's gone I can fill the void she'll leave…and you'll be safe. Don't you see? The ball was a message, she can hurt you without even trying."

"And what about you? She knows you want her dead. She could kill you."

Peter shook his head. "She's had ample opportunity to do that. No she's convinced she's invincible…" he said and stared at the wall, deep in thought and Wendy gazed down at their clasping hands. At that moment a sharp pain flared through her and her eyes stung.

"I feel like this is the last time I'll ever see you again," she whispered and he tilted his head as she started to cry softly.

"Not if I win."

"There's nothing to win Peter!" she snapped and got to her feet. She was in pain, confused and angry but below that was a craving she could barely ignore. Peter was right, she had to leave but she ached to leave him behind. He picked the island over her, watched her fall from the ship and sink but a part of her always knew he would. His problem was he thought he could have both but now he has neither.

The betrayal washed over her again and she could not bear to look at him anymore. She wrenched open the doorway and ran out, Peter at her heels but as she quickly approached a platter of velvet skinned peaches she slowed, the craving obliterating any other feeling. As her hand snaked out Peter grabbed her and dragged her away as she struggled and cursed him.

Panting and half delirious she was pushed against a wall as Peter flung open a door and Wendy realised he had led her to the convent. Battling down the ravenous craving Wendy focused on him and realised that this was it.

"If you're really going to pick power over me again then I don't want this anymore," she said, trying to keep her head up as she placed a hand against her chest. It was a touch that conveyed his heart but also the old thimble around her neck. She thought she saw a flash of hurt in his eyes but it was merely a reflection of the morning light.

"I don't want it."

"You're a coward," she spat and he blinked and then laughed.

"Tell me, how much are you hurting right now? You're in agony and you want me to feel that?"

"YES!" she shouted and pushed him away. "That's what you're scared of! You're scared of actually feeling for once in your life!"

"No," he said softly, shaking his head and his shoulders slumped as he looked at her cannily. "You think I'll suddenly become a good person? You think I'd love you the way you deserve?"

"Yes, Peter," she whispered and moved to him, staring into his glaring eyes. "I can feel your heart. There's darkness there but so much capacity for more, for goodness," she said with feeling and he laughed again. He lifted hand and tapped his temple.

"And what about here? You think a shiny clean heart will rub away centuries of the things I've done? That rot has taken root and there's no getting rid of it. That's me, that's who I am and I'm not a good person, clean heart or no. Why waste it on me?"

Wendy stared at him, seeing the honest question in his eyes and felt oddly light. He voiced something that she long had been asking herself. What's a clean heart if you still commit bad deeds? She had participated in the kidnapping and attempted murder of Henry Mills and she had no cursed heart as an excuse.

"You're right," she said, smiling faintly and he lifted his head in surprise. "No one will understand me as well as you. We are what we are…but that doesn't mean we can't change Peter. I can't stay here but you can come with me, either way this heart belongs to you. Take it and come away or say goodbye," she finished, tears gleaming in her eyes again and he shook his head.

"I can't. I don't want you to go," he gripped her arms and pulled her to him and held her tightly. Wendy buried her face against his chest and heard the slow steady beat of his heart and in that moment she gripped the tiny golden grain of sand in her hand and wished, not caring what the price of that magic would be.

Let Peter feel with his whole heart!

With a brilliant burst of golden light Wendy and Peter staggered apart, shielding their eyes from the glare. As the light faded from Peter's chest he watched as Wendy collapsed to the ground, her face pale and wane.

"No!" he cried and got down on his knees. She was breathing but raggedly and he quickly gathered her up into his arms and ran for the door the leads to Storybrooke. Bursting into another realm Peter skidded to a stop as a large crowd gathered on a green lawn rounded on him and with a cry they ambushed.

a.n:

Hmm I wonder what the price is...

Thanks for reading! Just to let you know there won't be many more chapters to go now.