A/N: Hey guys! Guess who's back?! I'm really sorry I haven't posted recently but it's been a combination of being busy, and having some lack of ambition. I don't know if you guys really care, but I've been battling some depression lately, so I've been slacking off in all departments. I apologize, and I will really try to keep up to date for you guys! (P.S. Last chapter I asked what Peter/ Faith pairing name should be and someone said Paith? What do y'all think?)

Enjoy :)

-Chapter 21-

-Peter-

Peter was wrenched from his peaceful sleep by somebody frantically shaking his shoulders and shouting far too loudly at him. His eyes reluctantly opened and he saw one of his Lost Boys before him, looking wide-eyed and terrified. He groaned tiredly before answering, wishing he could turn over and fall back asleep.

"What it is, Calum?" he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Peter wasn't used to being tired and sleeping for extended periods. His body felt fuzzy and unused, and the bright sun streaming through his window hurt his eyes.

"You need to come with me, Peter! Something's happened!" the dark-haired teenager replied, his eyes wide and desperate.

"What are you on about?" Peter snapped, irritated with the boy's vagueness, and from his abrupt awakening. He would have slapped the Lost Boy had his arms not felt like useless noodles.

"We don't know what happened, but we found Jackson and Faith-"

"Wait, you what?" Peter interrupted when he heard Faith's name, his stomach lurching.

"We found them in the forest together, and..." Calum began, looking away nervously.

"And what?" Peter narrowed his eyes, knowing whatever he was about to hear wasn't going to be good news.

"Jackson is...well, he's dead."

"Is Faith okay?!" Peter jumped to his feet, rounding on the teenager before him. The fatigue washed away from him abruptly, and Peter was wide awake now. Something akin to panic was spreading through his extremities, and his blood was running ice cold. Peter's heart pounded in his chest, and his pulse was thundering in his head.

"She's not injured...but...," Calum trailed off, looking like he was struggling to find the appropriate words.

"Tell me what's wrong with her, right now," Peter commanded roughly, placing his hands on the boy's narrow shoulders. The suspense of not knowing was practically killing him, and it took every fiber of his being not to strike the young boy. Calum sensed Peter's irritation and gulped visibly before continuing.

"She won't talk to anyone and she's just curled in a ball on the ground. We've tried getting her to say something but she just keeps mumbling and rocking on the ground." He answered in a rush, some of his words mashing together.

"Where is she?" Peter asked him as he soared out of the tree house, searching the campsite wildly. His panic was consuming him at this point, and he needed to find Faith immediately, or he would explode.

"Still back in the clearing. Nobody wanted to move anything before you saw it," he heard the boy answer from somewhere behind him.

"Well, don't just stand there like an idiot, show me where she is," Peter snarled, rounding on the poor boy when he took a second too long to reply.

Calum ran ahead of the surly teenager, stumbling slightly in his nervous haste. Peter kept close behind the boy as they darted and weaved through the greenery. Deeper and deeper into the forest they ran, until they were nearing the nearly impassable rocky badlands towards the center of the island. The terrain was usually avoided by Peter and his Lost Boys, only being used when they dared each other to try to reach the bottom. No one ever had without severe injury (except for Peter of course; flight is extremely useful).

After what seemed like hours, the two teenagers arrived at an area of fallen trees, and Peter's heart practically stopped beating. Jackson, a relatively new addition to the Lost Boys, was lying face first on the dirt, his body a grotesque sight. The young boy's veins were flush against the surface of his skin, striping his entire body with dark purple marks. His fingertips were charred and blackened, and blood was leaking from his ear, with a small pool of it formed around his head. The smell of burned flesh filled the arena, and Calum was gagging somewhere behind him.

Faith, meanwhile, was lying next to a fallen log a few feet away, her legs curled into her chest. She stared unseeing ahead, mumbling under her breath. Peter's heart tugged painfully at the sight, and he rushed over to her, wanting nothing more than to take the hurt away from her. The wide, frantic look in her eyes made him feel sick.

"Faith?" Peter whispered, laying his hand on her shoulder gently. Faith whipped her head to look at him and whimpered when she saw who it was. The look of utter fear in her green eyes upset Peter; he hated to see her look at him this way. A gut wrenching sadness swept through him, and he fought the urge to pull her into an embrace; he had to take things slow with her or she would pull further away.

Faith crawled back frantically and pressed her back against a tree trunk, tears falling rapidly down her face. Peter knew how well she kept herself emotionally guarded, so whatever had caused her to cry must have been extremely traumatizing to her. Inadvertently, Peter became enraged, wanting to hurt whoever had caused her this much pain. He kept a straight face, however, to avoid startling Faith any further.

"Shh, Faith, it's all right. I'm not going to hurt you," Peter soothed quietly, slowly walking towards the frightened teenage girl, taking care not to startle her. He felt like he was approaching an injured animal, and Faith's wildly darting eyes reminded him of a scared baby deer.

When Peter had finally reached her, he knelt before her and slowly placed a hand on her cheek. Faith flinched, but allowed him to leave it there. He smiled reassuringly and rubbed his thumb against her soft, freckled skin. After a few seconds, Faith leaned her head into his hand.

"There, there, that's it. Just tell me what happened," Peter whispered, taking his other hand and placing it on the opposite cheek.

The look that Faith gave Peter in response was haunting; her eyes seemed both numb and screaming for help. She slowly shook her head and another tear escaped from the corner of her eye. She wasn't ready to talk, and Peter would not force her to. He simply smiled and wiped away the salty tears from her cheeks.

A wracking sob pushed through Faith's lips and she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and continuing to cry loudly against his shoulder. Peter was stunned at first, not used to Faith initiating contact with him. He recovered quickly, however, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as she bawled. Her body felt warm and familiar against his, as if they were made to be in close proximity.

They stood there for quite some time, with Peter supporting Faith as she cried, tracing reassuring circles against her back with his finger. With every lament he heard from Faith, Peter felt his heart break, and he silently vowed to destroy whoever made her feel this way. Whoever made Faith cry like this, didn't deserve to be alive in Peter's mind. What kind of monster would upset such an innocent person?

You would. A voice in Peter's head reminded him, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and continued to comfort the girl in his arms.

After a while, Faith stopped crying, and was gently hiccuping against his shoulder. The small sounds made him smile. Peter pulled away far enough to look at her face, which was red and slightly swollen. He gently wiped away the tears that had fallen on her cheeks, and smiled reassuringly.

"Shall we get you back to camp, Faithy?" Peter asked, pushing away a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes. She flicked her beautiful green eyes to his and gave him a slight, watery smile. He grinned when she nodded, and Peter noticed she was looking at him with trust in her eyes, the first time she had ever really done so. Peter turned his head to the teenager who was standing awkwardly at the edge of the treeline, looking pointedly away from the corpse and trying not to gag.

"Stay here, Calum. I'll be back soon," Peter commanded, and disappeared while holding Faith.

The two reappeared at the campsite, which was filled with worried Lost Boys. Some of them rushed forward when they saw Peter return, but they stopped abruptly when they saw him holding Faith. The boys were giving her weird looks, which confused Peter, but he ignored them and walked Faith over to a log and sat her down on it.

Peter squatted in front of her and took her soft hand in his. He saw a slight blush creep up her neck, and he smirked, glad that she was still feeling well enough to register his touches; he would never get tired of her adorable blushing. He traced an absent line across her arm and looked at her downcast eyes.

"I need to leave for a little while, Faith. Are you going to be okay?" Peter asked gently, rubbing a small circle against her hand with his thumb. A brief worried look flashed in her eyes, and for a minute he thought she was going to start crying again, but she simply nodded and continued looking forward, eyes unseeing.

Peter lifted her small hand to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss against it before he got up and turned around. He scanned the campsite for Felix, but the blond teenager was nowhere to be found. Irritation pricked at Peter; Felix had been mysteriously disappearing these past couple of days, and didn't bother to tell Peter where he had been. Peter had been too preoccupied, though, to really care, but now it was slowly dawning on him and that, combined with the day's events was pissing him off.

"Where the hell is Felix?" Peter hissed to Chef, who was scrubbing pots next to the fire.

"Haven't seen him all mornin', Pan," the young boy responded in his twanging southern accent.

As if summoned by their conversation, Felix came strolling through the clearing, adjusting his clothes with a sly grin on his face. Peter's annoyance went through the roof as he watched his friend's smug satisfaction.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Peter spat through gritted teeth, his hands clenched tightly. He could feel his rage threatening to spill over, and he struggled to hold his magic inside of him; he didn't want to scare Faith.

"For a stroll," Felix answered, almost too casually. The blond teen was suspiciously avoiding eye contact with Peter.

"Just a stroll?" Peter asked, narrowing his eyes; he hated to be lied to.

"Yup," Felix replied, digging his club into the ground.

"Well, while you were out "taking a stroll" one of our Lost Boys was killed in front of Faith," Peter snapped, his fists clenching so tight it hurt his palms. His magic was roiling and raging underneath the surface of his skin, begging to be released.

"What happened?" Felix asked anxiously, whipping his head to wear Faith was sat, a concerned expression painting his features.

"Well, as my second-in-command I was hoping you would have some sort of clue," Peter said coldly, crossing his arms across his chest. His magic was still threatening to burst against his skin, and the more he thought about Felix's strange behavior, the more pissed off he became.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Felix responded quickly, still refusing to look at Peter, which only furthered his anger. It was searing throughout his body like a hot iron, threatening to burn his skin.

"You wouldn't have to guess, if you had actually been here, instead of mulling about. You want to know what happened while you were "taking a stroll"? Jackson was killed in front of Faith," Peter replied, each word dripping with venom as he closed the space between them.

"Jackson's dead? What the hell happened? Is Faith okay?" Felix asked, faster than he normally would, and whipped his head around. It irritated Peter that Felix would claim to care about Faith, yet he hadn't even been there to comfort her like he had.

"Faith's been better. As for what happened to Jackson..." here Peter paused dramatically (he did enjoy his theatrics) and leaned so close to Felix that their noses were almost touching. "...your guess is as good as mine," he whispered dangerously. Peter could see Felix swallowing nervously out of the corner of his eye. He smirked slightly, before grabbing Felix by the arm and transporting them to the scene of the crime.

"Shit," Felix muttered under his breath, as he examined the body of the young boy. It seemed to become more gruesome as time went on, and Peter knew they would have to take care of it soon before it started to decompose.

"What do you think happened?" The blond teen asked his leader curiously.

"He appears to have been electrocuted, and seeing as there's no sort of electricity on this island, the most likely explanation is magic," Peter explained, rotating around the corpse, trying to gauge what could have possibly happened. He'd honestly never really seen anything like it in all his years on Neverland. Hell, even on Earth he had never seen a similar situation.

"Okay, so if we rule you out as the source of the magic, that only leaves one other person," Felix said slowly. Peter felt his irritation returning again, and a surge of cold anger went through him.

"You can't possibly be suggesting this was Faith's doing?" Peter asked icily, clenching his hands again.

"I'm just drawing rational conclusions, Peter," Felix defended, holding his hands up in front of him.

"Faith wouldn't hurt a butterfly, Felix, yet you think she killed a human being?" Peter could feel the magic swirling around his hands again, and he struggled to maintain calm.

"I dunno, maybe Jackson startled her, and she couldn't control her magic. Maybe he was teasing her, or maybe he just took things too far. You know how Faith is," Felix replied cautiously.

Peter was beyond pissed at this point. First, Felix pretended to care about Faith, going so far as to compare her to a sister. Then, Felix is nowhere to be seen, and starts accusing Faith of murder. How could anybody think Faith could be capable of such a thing. He saw her get upset when she accidentally sat on a caterpillar one day. He had no doubt in his mind that Faith had nothing to do with this, but that didn't mean he had any clue as to who actually did it.

"You know Felix, I don't know what the hell has gotten into you, but how can you dare suggest something like that? I thought Faith was important to you!" Peter growled viciously, his magic sparkling and crackling at this point.

"She is important to me! But, I don't know, Peter! People change! Things happen, and you just have to accept them!" Felix shouted back, staring at the ground ahead of him as if he was having the heated discussion with the log instead of Peter.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Peter asked, quirking an eyebrow and frowning.

"Look, Peter, this isn't about me," Felix deflected quickly, whipping his eyes up to the surly teen's. "This is about whatever happened to Jackson. Regardless of who did it, there is somebody dangerous out there, and we need to figure out who it is soon. We could all be in danger."

Peter grunted in approval and squatted down before the corpse. He was absolutely sure that Faith hadn't done anything to Jackson, but that still left the question of who did. Whoever did was extremely powerful, and knew exactly what they were doing. Even Peter himself had never managed to kill anybody like that.

Suddenly they were transported to the cliff's edge, near Peter's thinking tree. The salty sea air wafted across Peter's face, and the waves crashed below loudly. He and Felix rose at the same time, and Peter gave a brief nod to Felix. The blond teen nodded back and rolled the corpse over the edge of the cliff, watching it tumble down into the waters below. Soon after the mermaids arrived, ripping and tearing into the flesh with greedy hands.

Peter was aware of a subtle change in the wind, making his hair stand on end. Something wasn't right, and the island was trying to tell him so. He scanned through his mind, connecting with the powers of Neverland, and sensed a battle somewhere. When he concentrated further, he could feel the fighting happening in the campsite, and his heart began to race.

"Shit," Peter muttered under his breath. Before Felix could so much as give him a questioning glance, they were teleported back to the clearing, and met with chaos.

The Lost Boys were fighting furiously, each brandishing a shiny weapon of some sort; even Chef was swinging his frying pan around. Their opponents were a large group of savage females, some young girls and others almost adults. They varied in size and skin color as well, but all were painted with bright red stripes across their bodies. Each girl was outfitted in a tan dress, with beads jingling together in tassels near the hem. The girls battled with spears and tomahawks, dealing serious blows to Peter's Lost Boys. Peter glanced around nervously, and was thankful to see that Faith was nowhere to be found.

With a wave of his hand, Peter tried to freeze all of the girls, but was surprised to find his magic wasn't affecting them. Christ, not this again. Peter swore under his breath, and pulled his dagger from his belt, rushing to the nearest girl and starting to fight. He saw Felix do the same out of the corner of his eye.

The girls fought viciously, some of them ganging up on a single boy, others trading blows with several of his own Lost Boys. Peter's boys were not to be trifled with, however, as years of rough housing had prepared them for even the dirtiest of fighters. Soon, many of the girls had retreated into the forest, until there was only a small group of them left, in a small circle near the center of the clearing..

Peter focused on the girl in the middle, who seemed to be their leader. She was tall and lithe, with copper skin and dark brown eyes that stared hauntingly into one's soul. She was probably no older than Peter was, yet she held herself with an experienced air, shouting off commands left and right to her soldiers. Peter knew he if he wanted any information as to why these mysterious girls were here, he would have to take down their leader.

Peter fought his way through the center of the circle, easily taking down the female warriors with no more than a few flicks of his dagger. Their leader, however, had seen him nudging his way in, and was prepared for him when he squared up in front of her. She held a deadly looking machete in her hand, noticeably notched from the blows she had traded in previous battles. With a flick of his wrist, Peter's small dagger was replaced with a longer sword, and he rushed at her.

Back and forth they sprang at each other, their swords clanging loudly every time they crossed. With every jab he made at the girl, she gave Peter an equal counterattack, matching him step for step. The girls and boys around them had stopped fighting, yet the two continued to spar, oblivious to the halt in the action.

When the girl made the treacherous mistake of leaving her left side open, Peter took the chance and stepped around, slicing the blade harshly across her skin, and using his foot to trip up her balance. She fell to her knees, clutching her arm, yet she didn't utter a sound, not even when Peter held the sword up to her neck, chuckling lowly.

She stayed silent even as the rest of her warriors scattered into the overgrown vegetation, leaving her with the group of injured (and very pissed) Lost Boys. She stayed silent as Peter forced her towards the center of the group, and tied her hands behind her back. The girl even kept quiet as the boys around her began to chant and jeer barbarically, instead staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes. Peter threw his hand in the air, signaling for quiet, and the Lost boys immediately complied, though they continued to grin.

"I've never had the pleasure of meeting you here before. What brings you to our neck of the woods," Peter cooed sarcastically, earning a few appreciative laughs from the surrounding boys. The girl glanced up at him briefly, before returning her gaze to the fire ahead.

"Ah, so you're the quiet type, then? We've had quite a few of your kind here. You know what works best on quiet people, love?" He asked quietly, grazing his sword across the exposed skin of her shoulder. "Fear..." he dropped his voice to a barely audible decibel and pressed the sword hard enough to leave a trail of blood on her skin. "...and pain."

Peter lifted his hands and again tried to use magic against her, but she merely smirked when she noticed his attempts. Peter gritted his teeth and brought the palm of his hand sharply against her cheek. The smack echoed across the clearing, and wiped the smirk clean off her face.

Peter looked at his hand and noticed the red paint smeared across it. The girl seemed to see it as well, because a panicked look flashed across her face. Suddenly it dawned on Peter. The paint! He thought excitedly, and he summoned a bucket of water out of thin air.

Without warning, Peter dumped it on the head of the teenage girl, who hissed at him in annoyance. The paint ran down her body in messy streaks, staining it a deep red color. He repeated dumping water on her, until the paint was pooled around her in a small puddle on the ground. Curiously, he flicked his hand, and watched in satisfaction as she flew upwards into the air, and landed on the ground with a loud thud.

"I admit, your little concoction was very clever, but there was no way you came up with that on your own," Peter continued, watching the dirt absorb the paint and water solution.

"What makes you say that?" the girl spoke up, almost startling Peter. Her voice was rough and gravely like the scars she bore on her arms and legs.

"I'm so glad you asked. You see, I recognize the berry used to make the paint you ladies were wearing," Peter explained excitedly, pacing back and forth in front of the girl. The Lost Boys watched him with wide eyes, hungrily drinking in his every word. "The robor berry is a very powerful little fruit that allows one to cloak themselves from magic, the only drawback being it's poisonous when ingested. Funny thing about the robor berry, is it has only ever been found in one place."

The girl's eyes watched him stalk before her with an impassive expression. Her lack of emotion irritated Peter, and he wished she would give him any indication that she knew what he was talking about. He continued to talk arrogantly, however, as if none of it bothered him.

"Where is this magical place it can be found? I'm so glad you asked. The Enchanted Forest," at this, he saw the girl's eyes light up in recognition, and he smirked triumphantly.

"Now how could somebody with robor berries from the Enchanted Forest, end up in Neverland all of the sudden without an invitation from me? A little outside help of course. Now why don't you tell me who you're working for before things get ugly for you," Peter threatened, stopping in front of her and examining his nails nonchalantly. To his surprise the girl laughed.

"You have no idea, do you?" She asked in a patronizing tone.

Peter gritted his teeth and slapped her harshly again. She lifted her head again, and wore a sickening smile that enraged Peter.

"I would've thought you had figured it out by now," she said again, as a small trail of blood trickled out of her nose.

Peter's rage couldn't be contained at this point. She was trying to make him look stupid, and was doing so in front of his Lost Boys. The control he had been trying to keep snapped, and his magic swirled and crackled in his hands. In a swift motion, he had pinned her up against a tree with his magic and squeezed his fist, effectively choking her.

"Who the hell are you working for?" Peter asked bluntly, dropping all humorous pretense. "Is it the Dark One?" The girl gave a sputtering laugh again.

"The Dark One...is nothing...compared to...her," the girl managed to choke out. Her? Peter thought, utterly bewildered at her answer.

"Tell me, now," Peter commanded, squeezing her tighter so her eyes bulged slightly from her head.

"Wendy...Darling," the girl coughed weakly, and Peter released her magical hold in surprise.

The girl gasped and heaved as Peter stood there in shock, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. Wendy Darling? His former prisoner, Wendy Darling? This had to be a joke. There was absolutely no way this girl was telling the truth.

"Wendy Darling?" Peter asked stupidly, blinking slowly. A slow clapping came from the edge of the clearing, and Peter whipped his head to the source of the sound.

A lethally beautiful young woman was standing there with Faith lying unconscious in front of her. Peter wouldn't have recognized her had she not been announced. Wendy's figure was no longer slight and bony, but curvaceous and mature. Her curly hair was cropped to her ears and her eyes were dark and empty. There was a dangerous energy about her that made Peter uneasy.

"Miss me, Petey?" Wendy asked sarcastically.

"I actually haven't given you a second thought until now," Peter shot back, looking nervously at Faith crumpled on the ground before her. She was breathing normally, but there was blood leaking from a wound on the back of her head. Peter's eyes narrowed and his hands clenched so hard he could feel his fingernails biting into his flesh.

"Funny, because you're all I've been able to think about. Revenge is bittersweet that way," Wendy answered darkly.

"What did you do to Faith?" Peter asked, ignoring the woman's attempt to get a rise out of him.

"As I'm sure you've figured out by now, magic doesn't exactly work on your dear little Faith," Wendy began, and Peter flinched when she said Faith's name. Nobody this wicked should dare to even breathe such an innocent name. "Don't worry, though, I made sure she saw me before I hit her with the rock."

"What the hell do you want, Wendy?" Peter spat, his blood running cold. He longed for nothing more than to snatch Faith away from her, but he had a feeling the cruel woman would hurt Faith if he tried.

"I want to do a little experiment, Peter. Do you remember how little Faith's life was saved?" Wendy cooed sarcastically, nudging a foot into the unconscious girl's back.

"Of course, the flower," Peter responded narrowing his eyes. Just how long had Wendy been on this island without him knowing? The thought brought a shudder to his mind.

"Exactly. Now, do you remember the legend behind said flower?" she prompted with a sick smile.

"It was a drop of sunlight," He answered simply. Peter had no idea what she was getting at, and he was tired of her little game of question and answer.

"Now what happens to the sunlight, I wonder, when everything goes dark?" Wendy pondered viciously, her grin transforming into something almost feral.

~Faith~

The back of her head throbbed and pulsed with every breath she took, and her eyelids felt heavy and drugged. Faith struggled to open her eyes, and tried moving her arms and legs but they felt like sluggish and unresponsive. She had no idea where she was or even what time it was. She sifted frantically through her mind and tried to remember what happened.

"What the hell do you want, Wendy?" a voice growled, sounding tinny and far away. Faith didn't want it to stop talking; she felt like she recognized it.

"I want to do a little experiment, Peter. Do you remember how little Faith's life was saved?" a woman said. Something about this voice seemed familiar to but she couldn't quite place it either.

"Of course, the flower," the other voice responded, and Faith realized it was Peter's voice. Her heart jumped madly in her chest at the sultry tone of his voice.

"Exactly. Now, do you remember the legend behind said flower?" the second voice cackled, sounding none too pleasant.

Wait a minute...Faith had heard that voice before. The memories hit her like a ton of bricks, crashing into her at one time and making her head ache worse.

Faith had been sitting on the log where Peter had left her, desperately trying not to cry, and trying to ignore the looks from the other boys. Some of the whispered harshly around her, while others threw her sympathetic looks. Faith ignored the sounds, trying to escape inside herself like she had always done.

"Slut," she heard someone say.

When she looked up, Faith saw it was Robert, the boy who had been so nice to her earlier. The boy who Peter had almost killed. A shiver ran down her spine involuntarily, and it took Faith every ounce of willpower not to cry in front of the boys. She didn't feel safe without Peter, and crying would make her feel even more vulnerable.

Faith struggled to keep the tears inward and ignore the murmurs around her. Usually, nobody paid attention to her, and she was just fine with that. But now, she felt her skin crawling with the accusing stares. What had she even done wrong? The boys hadn't had a problem with her before.

A rustle of leaves to her left drew Faith out of her trance. She slowly turned her head towards it, and practically jumped out of her seat when she saw a pair of dark, angry eyes looking back at her. Before she could so much as gasp, a rush of girls flooded through the campsite, ululating loudly and attacking the Lost Boys.

Weapons were scrambled to be drawn, and shouts erupted from the previously peaceful camp. Faith scrambled backwards, trying to find a hiding place, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her anyway. Furiously she counted in her mind, stumbling over the words in her haste to get away.

Faith found a large rock facing the clearing and she dove behind it, pulling her knees up to her chest. She watched the vicious fighting going on, and her heart started fluttering in her chest when she saw Peter join the fighting in the clearing. Faith wanted to call out to him, but her vocal chords were paralyzed with fear.

A branch cracked to her left, and Faith whipped her head frantically to locate the noise. A woman stepped into view, smiling cruelly. An eternity seemed to pass with the two females simply staring at each other. Finally, the woman sighed dramatically and stepped forward.

"I don't even know what Peter sees in you. You seem so plain," she remarked cruelly, crossing her hands over her chest. Faith didn't want to dignify that with a response, and she wouldn't have known what to say anyway.

"It's going to be so fun torturing you," The woman spat viciously, a cruel smile painting her face.

"W-what do you want-t?" Faith managed to squeak out, hating herself for sounding so weak.

"I want to destroy Peter Pan," she replied darkly, slowly grabbing a rock off the ground.

"P-please don't." Faith begged, cowering against the boulder she had been hiding behind.

The woman simply smiled before raising the boulder above her head. There was a blinding pain, and suddenly everything went dark.

When Faith snapped out of her flashback, the two were still talking, not having made much progress in the conversation. She listened in closely to what the tall woman, Wendy apparently, was saying, and caught the tail end of the sentence.

"...happens when everything goes dark?" she heard Wendy ask, before cackling maniacally.

"Don't you dare touch a hair on her head," Peter threatened darkly, and had it been Faith, she would have peed her pants from the frightening look he gave Wendy. But the woman simply smiled sardonically before answering.

"I won't be touching anything, technically."

"Wha-" Peter began to say, but he stopped abruptly.

Faith looked up slowly to see what had stopped Peter from finishing his question, but all she saw was a magnificent black light before a force of energy hit her like a train.

Never in her entire life had Faith felt such a terrible pain. It wasn't hot and burning like most pain tended to be, but it was a cold and intense pain. It was as if she had been stuck quickly inside a freezer without any clothes on. Every nerve ending twinged and pierced under her skin, and her heart was either beating too fast or not at all. Faith was aware of a screaming noise, but she couldn't tell whether it was her or not.

The pain stopped after what seemed like years, but really had been only a few seconds. Faith flopped onto the ground, unaware that her muscles had spasmed her into a standing position during the episode. After a beat of silence, that terrible woman's voice sounded again, much too close for Faith's comfort.

"Consider this war, Peter," Wendy announced, and with a rush of wind, she was gone.