A/N: So I was 13 when I first published this story, and, you know, not good at writing. At the time I thought this story was great! But looking back, not so much. So I thought, the concept was pretty interesting... why not give it another shot?

Elizabeth peeked out from around the tree and ducked back when she saw the Lost Boys. They'd been much more active than usual. Typically they just goofed around in Pan's camp all day, but they were maneuvering all around the island. Something big must be happening in Neverland. She couldn't imagine what. This island was dreadfully unchanging, a source of constant consternation for her.

When the Lost Boys had cleared, she made her way through the woods to the fairy's camp.

Tinkerbell looked at her with a bored expression. "You got my note, then."

"I got your note. What do you want? I thought our dealings were done."

"I was going to help you. But if you're not interested in a way off this island, by all means, go."

That got her attention. "A way off the island? You're joking."

"Nope. It's not a sure thing by any means, but it's more than you've seen in centuries."

"Well, spill, then."

"Pan found the boy."

"The boy? The one he's been searching for since before I even made it to this island?"

"That's the one. Named Henry."

"And?" She felt a pang of sympathy for the boy; whatever Pan wanted with him, she didn't imagine it could be good. But she couldn't do anything for him, so she was more interested in how this was supposed to help her.

"His family's here to rescue him. Said if I help them, they'll get me off the island. Only trouble is, they're still looking for a way off."

"How are they going to manage that?"

"Don't know. But they say they can. They're hero types, some of them, anyway. If you find them, they might want to help you too."

"Why are you helping me?"

She shrugged. "Call it goodwill. An old enemy of mine reminded me of who I used to be."

"This enemy one of these heroes?"

"She's Henry's mother. One of them, anyway."

"Well. Thank you for telling me."

"Maybe I owed you just a little, too. For how things ended."

Elizabeth sighed. "That was Pan's fault. Not yours."

"Still. Call us even?"

"You got it."

She made her way out of the fairy's encampment with a new sense of purpose. After all these years, she might finally be free of this place.

Neverland wasn't all that big, but it was certainly dense. You could walk for days without ever finding what you were looking for. She knew Pan's camp moved around the island, but sometimes she wondered if indeed the whole island didn't change its geography now and then, just to mess with its inhabitants. Tinkerbell and the occasional Lost Boy were the only people she'd seen here, and Pan when he wanted to show himself. But she knew he had other people on the island who worked for him, other people like her who he had tricked or strongarmed into making deals with him. She had never crossed paths with most of them, which she imagined was Pan keeping them apart. If enough of them knew each other, they might just be able to gather enough of a force to turn on him, after all. Pan was great at inspiring fear, but loyalty? He wasn't as good at that.

Despite the challenges the island posed, though, Elizabeth knew she had an advantage; Pan was distracted. He had the boy, Henry, and would no doubt be trying to get whatever he wanted from him. She could only imagine what; the ideas made her shudder. But she hadn't worked for him in decades, or at least she was pretty sure it was decades-it was hard to tell in Neverland. She doubted she was anywhere near the top of his priority list anymore, and with everything else going on, likely he would forget to mess with her.

"-to find Henry," a voice cut through the woods, a woman's voice. Elizabeth stopped short and peeked through the trees. There was a camp there, but not Pan's camp. It was a group of bedrolls, and four people sat around a fire talking: a man and three women.

"We've been over this, Regina," said the man. "Tinkerbell won't help us until we find a way off the island."

"And how long is that going to take?" asked the first voice she had heard. Regina, apparently. "Neal was pretty much a dead end-"

"Okay," cut in another woman, with blonde hair. "He gave us the closest thing we've had since we got here." Her voice was laced with anger.

"We all want to find Henry," the last woman said. She sat next to the man, her hand intertwined with his. "But we have to be rational."

Regina snorted. "Where did that pirate go? Is finding firewood in a forest that hard?"

Elizabeth felt her breath catch at the mention of the word 'pirate.' Oh, did that bring back memories. Her days on the ship with her parents, learning seafaring and cutlass-fighting and how to manage a crew. "This'll be yours someday," her Papa had said. But it had never come to pass.

"Actually, that's a good question," the man said.

"Maybe someone should have gone with him," said the woman beside him.

"Hook knows this island," the blonde woman said. "He should be fine."

"I am, love," said another voice, and Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat. She knew that voice. Even after all these centuries, she couldn't forget it. But how? It couldn't be possible. He should be dead by now, after all. Everyone she had known in her old life should be dead. She wasn't much of an optimist, but for once she dared to look as the man entered the camp, and almost immediately she felt tears spring to her eyes. There, standing in front of the others with a pile of firewood in his arms, was her Papa.