AN: Hello to whoever is out there!

I started this work 5+ years ago. However, as I continued writing it, I found that the direction I went in with Wendy and Peter's characterizations and their relationship and its development was not a direction I was super happy with. As a result, I ran out of steam to continue the story but I wasn't done with it. I continued to write about Wendy and Peter. So pretty much, this story has turned into a re-write. Some things have stayed the same, other things are similar and others are completely new. I am pretty sure this is NOT a normal thing to do, but it's the pandemic so I'm going to do it.

This work is going to be under the same name/url/story as before but I'm replacing the old chapters with new ones.

I really do hope you all enjoy! I think that this is an improvement!

Thanks for all your continued support,

spicytamale

"You should have just killed him."

The Dark One was leaning his elbows on the railing of the Jolly Roger. Beyond the ship were gentle rolling hills of green with a town nestled between them and still, royal blue waters. It was an idyllic scene and Wendy figured her blunt advice had disturbed him.

The Dark One turned and looked at her with dark, unnerving eyes. Wendy recalled that he had been Pan's brother; she could see the family resemblance. They both looked at people as if they were inconsequential, expendable. She hadn't ever thought that anyone else could have a stare like that, but she was, unfortunately, wrong.

"I would not have expected that from the kind-hearted Wendy Darling," he said slowly, his voice a gravelly rumble. He was well dressed, in a fine suit with expensive looking fabric. He sounded as if he chose his words just as carefully as he chose his clothes. "I suppose my son was incorrect."

"You and I both know Pan," she said, ignoring his comment. She would not stand by as people underestimated Pan. She had done that once and had learned her lesson. She would not sit back while others around her repeated it. "He's dangerous. Pandora's Box is a mercy."

The Dark One tilted up his chin ever so slightly and narrowed his eyes. She could tell he was assessing her. He then turned back to the view of the approaching Storybrooke. "You needn't worry about Pan anymore. You'll soon be reunited with your brothers and all will be well." Evidently, he had finished his assessment. And decided she was just a silly little girl. Wendy felt like stamping her foot at the wizard, but decided that would not convince him to reassess.

She took one more hard look at the man, with his scraggly hair and fine suit. He hadn't been what she imagined the Dark One would be. From how Pan spoke of him he was a needy little child. And from his name, she would have guessed he would have been a fearsome thing to behold. Instead, he was a strange, unnerving man who would not listen to her.

She then turned away and found a place alone on the ship and looked out to the town of Storybrooke beyond. Being in the open air, with the wind in her hair made her almost feel intoxicated. No one demanded she tell them stories or fix wounds or any other nonsense. She was finally free. She couldn't begin to describe the sheer joy she felt just knowing that. She had almost lost all hope that she would ever be free, free to grow up: to be an adult, to fall in love, to work, to be a mother, to grow old with someone. Those were some of the daydreams that had gotten her through her time trapped on Neverland. Her daydreams had now turned into reality.

It was all she had wanted when she returned to Neverland to find Baelfire. It was the grown up thing to do; Baelfire was her brother and he deserved a chance to grow up and live a life full of love and joy. She was the big sister and that was what big sisters did. She had no fear going into it. The Shadow had already turned her away the first time. Why would it want her a second time? That was her rationale, but she had been woefully wrong. Pan had trapped her and kept her on that island for almost 120 years.

She never understood why he had kept her that second time around. She wasn't of any real use to the Lost Boys nor did Pan particularly enjoy her company. There was no need for her. She supposed she was going to have to live with that question going unanswered.

Soon, the Jolly Roger was hovering just above the docks in Storybrooke. She peered into the crowd below, searching. The crowd churned below her, full of unfamiliar faces. Suddenly, she saw him. A young man standing in the crowd with glasses and a worried expression. He could have been her father at a younger age. He was looking up at the ship, squinting.

She leaned over the railing and cried, "John!" Her voice was jubilant and loud. Everyone on the Jolly Roger immediately turned to look at her in dismay but she couldn't care less. John's face immediately lit up and he pulled at the arm of another man. The other young man, blond with a stocky build and a round face, looked up and beamed. He waved his arms around, flailing and shouting with joy.

After an agonizingly long time docking, Wendy rushed out to greet her brothers, pushing past the Lost Boys she no longer cared about. She flung herself into John's arms and he caught her, holding on tight almost as if to ensure he never lost her again. She let out an arm and groped for her other brother through tear-filled eyes and all of a sudden they were a mess of arms and tears and laughter. She felt like she was dreaming.

"I can't believe it's real. It's really you," she said over and over again. Each time she said, the words did not lose their magic. It truly was them, after all this time filled with heartache and despair and, thankfully, hope.

Wendy had truly believed she would never see them again. When she went to save Baelfire, she had been trying to bring her family back together, but in doing so, actually tore them further apart. For all those decades, she had despaired, blaming herself. She wanted desperately to apologize to John and Michael, but she couldn't seem to push the words past the lump in her throat. She just held them tightly and hoped that they could understand what she had tried to do and maybe they could find some way to forgive her.

She barely heard the footsteps approach over the din of laughter and crying. She looked up at Baelfire, who was nows in his early thirties. He looked barely recognizable from the scrawny little boy who used to live in the crawlspace in her London home and who gave up his freedom to save John and Michael. But when he smiled, she again saw that young boy and her heart felt as if it might burst. She smiled up at him.

Eventually, John and Michael noticed him too, and she could see their eyes search for anything recognizable in his face, and then they saw it, like she did. Those dark, kind eyes, the ones that compelled her to make him her brother. He may have grown up, but he couldn't change those eyes.

"Baelfire," John said, quietly in a whisper, almost as if he spoke too loud the spell might break.

"It's actually Neal now," he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "I didn't mean to interrupt the family moment."

Michael shook his head. "Changed name or not, you are our family." Then he and John both pulled him down into the family embrace. They were all of more than a hundred years old, and had lived wildly different lives, but they all still needed their siblings. They were finally whole once more, a family. Wendy felt tiny and small and precious in all of her brothers' arms.

The moment was tinged with guilt. Wendy still couldn't find the words to apologize to them all. If she hadn't let the Shadow in, Baelfire never would have been taken. She never would have left and Michael and John never would have been forced to work for Pan. They could have grown up and been a happy family together. She knew she didn't have words for those thoughts, but she knew she would eventually find them.

Eventually, they all disentangled themselves and looked around, blinking in the light. The townspeople were milling about, but no one seemed to give them much noticed. They blended in well in Storybrooke.

"Now what?"

"After we gave up the house in London, we've been just living in condos in whichever city Pan wanted us in, but now…" John trailed off. He said the words slowly and timidly, but they were carefully chosen. He had also carefully avoided mentioning why he and John had given up the house in London. (She supposed that that was a conversation for another time.) He had clearly thought about this before the topic had come up. "I've been thinking about Storybrooke. We've been dealing with magic for more than a century now. I think it might be best if we stay with people who understand us." The words rushed out in a questioning voice. He wanted to know if Wendy was alright with that.

Wendy was aware that even if she left this town and these people and pretended that the last hundred years had been a dream, she knew she still would be out of place in the Land Without Magic. She was not the same girl who had left Victorian England. She would never be able to fully assimilate back into regular society. This town, even though she was new to it, had people here would understand her. She could imagine a future amongst all of them.

xxx

Baelfire, or now Neal, told Wendy and her brothers about an old Victorian house that had been put up for sale by the bay. He told them that there was a school nearby where Wendy could finish her studies and that John and Michael would most certainly be able to find jobs in town.

When they toured it, Wendy fell in love. Not only was it not a cramped treehouse, it had the feel of their old home in London. She could imagine her mother and father approving. It had all the space they needed and then some. It looked out onto the ocean and she could see the boats in the harbour coming in and out at all times of day. The house was warm and cozy and it was more than she could have hoped for.

They were able to buy the house quickly and move in within a couple of days. John and Michael had explained that after Wendy left, her father had invested in stocks in a company named Ford. They made those clunky automobiles that Wendy hadn't really cared for. (However, she had just recently gotten to drive in cars from the 21st century and she thoroughly approved.) They explained that this company had done very well and had made them very rich. It was actually one of the reasons, they explained, why Pan had gone after them. They had infinite resources to do his bidding and he didn't need to give them with a single cent. But that was now a moot point. They were free to do what they wanted to with their money now and what they wanted was to buy a house in full. So, they did.

The first night Michael, John and Wendy slept in the same room, with mattresses on the floor and candles lighting up the room.

John and Michael told her about what life was like after she left. The entire family collapsed in on itself. Her mother refused to leave her bed for months. Her father spent almost every cent he had searching for her and Baelfire. John and Michael were silent, not knowing how to explain to their parents where Wendy and Baelfire had gone and that they were probably never coming back. As the years wore on, their mother hardly spoke and remained in the house most of the time. Their father grew angry. He flew off into rages easily, sometimes for no reason. He had always had a temper, but this was something else, they told her.

Michael began to drink, feeling that it was truly his fault that all this had happened. If he had stayed hidden when the Shadow came back, Baelfire never would have sacrificed himself and Wendy never would have been forced to go after him.

John coped the best. He ended up going to school for law and even got engaged. But he always had his ear open for any word on Pan or the Shadow. One day, he heard that Pan had been visiting a small town just outside of London and followed the lead. He spent months chasing after shadows. In the process, his fiancée broke off the engagement and he lost his job as a lawyer.

Soon after the dead end, their mother became ill. She wasted away in her bed, becoming a shadow of herself. "The light had gone out from her eyes," Michael said softly. Wendy could feel her heart wrench at the thought of her mother, shut off from the world, sickly and dying in a stuffy room. She died after a couple weeks. Their father was heartbroken. He could not be consoled and nothing brought him anything close to joy or even contentment. He died about a year after their mother.

Michael continued to drink and John threw himself back into trying to find Pan. He searched all over the United Kingdom. He followed every possible lead and they all led nowhere. But, about a year after their father died, Pan simply arrived at their doorstep in London. He introduced himself and explained that he was holding Wendy captive. In exchange for John and Michael's loyalty and cooperation, no harm would come to Wendy and one day, she would eventually be returned to them. He gave them immortality and they did not age. They traipsed all over the globe for him; they spied on Pan's enemies, sought out potential recruits, tracked down magical artifacts. The entire time they never gave up hope that they would see Wendy one day again.

Wendy listened to their tale, weeping silently the entire time. She had spent a significant portion of her time on Neverland wondering what had happened to her family. She had hoped and prayed that they had been able to get over her disappearance and had lived long happy lives. She had imagined her parents with grey hair and crinkles around their eyes, watching their grandchildren grow. She had imagined her brothers, successful in whatever field they chose, good husbands and fathers. She also had hoped that they had aged gracefully and lead full, happy lives. She had known back it was probably too much to hope for, but she did still hope; she was so heartbroken that she had been right. Both her parents died young, John ruined his life trying to find her and Michael had turned to drink to deal with his guilt.

She began to sob thinking about it. "It's all my fault!" She put her face in her hands. She couldn't bare to look her brothers in the eye. How could they even stand the sight of her after all she had caused? They all could have led happy lives if she had left well enough alone. "I'm so sorry," she said between sobs.

Michael gently pried her hands off her face and looked at her. She realized that his eyes were still the same; warm brown eyes that looked at her with unconditional love. She wanted to close her eyes, to turn away. How could he love her after this? "If there's one thing I know, it's that it's not your fault just like it wasn't mine. We were children," he told her, his voice steady. "This was all Pan's doing. He was the one who destroyed our lives. Not you, not me. No one else, but Pan."

Wendy swallowed. Michael's gaze remained trained on her. She was so surprised by how calming and reassuring he was. His presence was peaceful and she felt comforted by him. This was not the little boy she had left behind in London. This was a calm, stable man. He would not be shaken by her feelings of guilt. He did not hold any grudge against her. He simply loved her and that was that.

This love he had for her was fierce and immovable. It was almost overwhelming to feel. She felt undeserving of it. She had been starved of it for almost 120 years. Perhaps, she had even forgotten what it felt like.

Finally, she nodded. She didn't trust her voice in that moment. All she could do was hope that Michael knew that she knew how much he loved her. She hoped he knew that she felt the same way about John, Michael, and Baelfire.

Although she knew that John and Michael both wanted to hear about her time on Neverland, she was too drained to begin to explain. She had been alone for so long. Her most constant companion had been Pan and she did not want to waste her breath on him in that particular moment. She answered their questions with only a few words and her brothers eventually turned the conversation toward more mundane things; they didn't have to dwell on the pain of the past.

They told Wendy about the Internet and cell phones and microwaves and all the other things that she had missed in the Land Without Magic. She felt herself calm as she listened to the wonderful things that had become common place. She could already see herself slipping back into this world. It felt comfortable not to have to wonder about magic and mad boy kings.

She drifted off to sleep listening to John explained how a smartphone worked with a ghost of a smile on her face.

xxx

Peter waited for the sound of Henry's descending footsteps to eventually recede. He waited until he heard the squeak of the hinges of the door to Wendy's treehouse and knew that the boy had finally exited. He turned around the corner to find Wendy lying in her bed, hands covering her face, evidently very broken up about the deception.

It annoyed him that she still hung onto that morality. It was pesky and often got in the way of her getting things done. He had tried telling her countless times it would be better to put it aside, but she remained steadfast. And so he still received lectures and earfuls on why he was an amoral, evil person. Blah, blah, blah.

She heard the floorboards creak under his weight and uncovered her eyes. He grinned at her. "Well done, couldn't have played the part better myself," he said appreciatively. He leaned against the foot of her bed. "Very convincing, Wendy. Excellent job."

She sat up in the bed and refused to meet his gaze. Stubborn. "I don't like lying to him," she said vehemently. There was that pesky morality again.

"Oh, don't think of it as lying," Peter drawled out. "Think of it as providing motivation."

Wendy tossed back the covers angrily and got out of bed. She stalked over to her kitchen table and began to rip into the bread she had made earlier that day. Evidently, she was unconvinced by what he said. He was unsurprised. Wendy usually wasn't.

"Don't you know what he needs motivation for, Wendy?" He was feeling… on edge. He wouldn't dare say nervous or anxious, but on edge was probably the best way to describe it. Peter was not pleased with how his plan had been progressing. He was running out of time to get the Heart of the Truest Believer for Neverland. But he would not say he was nervous or that he even saw losing as a possibility. No, no, he was simply concerned with the progress.

And since he was feeling on edge, bothering Wendy was a favourite past time of his. She was very easy to rile up. She felt everything so deeply. When she was angry, she was in a rage. When she was sad, she was miserable. It was fun and fascinating to watch and he needed a distraction tonight.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. A breeze from the window whipped through the treehouse and ruffled her hair and nightdress. He frowned. It was uncharacteristically cold for Neverland.

"I've already done enough of your bidding for tonight," she told him. Her voice was even, measured. Damn. She was not taking the bait.

"Come now, Wendy," he crooned. "This is a very dull conversation."

She remained silent and stiff. She refused to meet his eyes and stood at the kitchen table with her back to him. She was stubborn as a mule. But he knew she was already upset with both him and herself. If he was able to taunt her enough, she might explode spectacularly. It would be even more entertaining than usual.

He continued on. "I know you know why Henry needs motivation. Say the words. I know you know them." She stood stock still, her hands gripping the back of the kitchen chair so hard that her knuckles turned white. He huffed and made his way over to her. He stood a couple of feet away. "Fine. I'll say it. The Heart of the Truest Believer. That's why I needed you to lie to Henry." He chuckled. "Do you remember when you gave me your heart?"

"No," she finally ground out. He smiled a smile that was all teeth. One might have shuddered to look up on it.

"No you don't remember? Or no you don't want to?" he taunted. Her heard her take a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"Just leave me be, Pan," she said quietly. "Just get out." He let out a hiss. She had been on this island a long time and over this time, she had gotten better at resisting his taunts. There had been many days when he failed to even get a rise out of her. He worried that this might be one of those days.

"Oh, no," he said with a fake pout. "Do you not enjoy my company?"

"You know I don't." She still refused to turn around and it was so incredibly irritating.

He placed a hand over his heart and gave a fake expression of hurt. For a moment, he didn't even realize that there was no one to watch his display. "I'm quite hurt, bird," he crooned. "You tell me you don't enjoy my company and you won't even look at me?"

"Just get out. I don't have the patience for this tonight."

"You know, bird, it's very hard to have a conversation when you're not facing me."

"I don't want to look at you." There was a delicious bite in her voice and he knew he was close to getting her riled up. He wasn't going to leave without this entertainment.

"You can't tolerate the sight of me?" He let out an exaggerated sad sigh.

"No, I can't. Not when all of this is happening."

"All of what is happening?" he asked, playing dumb. He knew how her mind worked. He knew how sentimental and emotional she was. He didn't really even need to think about it much to know that she was thinking of her introduction to Neverland. He could see the memories dancing in her mind, sparkling water and acorns and a chaste kiss. That had been fun for him. Making her relive those memories was fun for him, too. They were so tightly bound up in her regret and grief. Those memories were so close in time to the last moments she had had with her family. He knew it was painful for her to think about.

"This repeating of history, Henry being the… the-"

"Truest Believer, you can say the words. Remember how easy it was for you to hand it over?"

He heard her suck in a sharp breath and waited for the yelling to begin. It was almost delicious, waiting on the edge of one of her tantrums. He licked his lips in anticipation. But then, her voice was soft when she said, "Please leave. I already have to live with this, like this. You don't have to remind me."

This was taking too long. He had things to attend to and she wasn't giving him what he wanted. He was beginning to get irritated with the girl.

"No, I don't need to remind you of your failures," he said haughtily. This line was part performance and part reality. He truly was angry with her now. He wanted to hurt her because she was bothering him. "You live them out every day."

"Yes, I do," she agreed.

"Then you mustn't complain about Henry. Do you think if you tried there would be a different outcome?" He let out a laugh. "Look at your track record. You were the one who gave me your heart! I didn't even need to bring in an actor!"

She turned her head and glared at him. "I wish you had kept it," she spat.

He grinned. Fucking finally.

"I wish you had kept it so I wouldn't have to live like this," she said, her words were clipped and angry. "This island chips away at me, piece by piece, every day. And for what?" Finally, she turned around. He could see her suck in a ragged breath. She had been doing such a good job controlling her anger up until now, but he was not disappointed. "What is this all for?" she demanded, waving her hand around the treehouse. "Why do this? Why drag me through this hell? I live knowing I failed my family and that they went to their graves thinking I abandoned them. And I still don't know why!" She threw up her hands and looked around, her eyes wild. "I don't even know why! What made you keep me prisoner here? I never did anything to you. All I wanted was to bring Baelfire back!" She brushed away angry tears that rolled down her face. She continued to stare, trying to keep an angry glare fixed upon it but it wavered. A sob escaped her mouth and she covered it immediately, turning away.

He chuckled and began to clap. "Well, bird, you've outdone yourself! Much more entertaining than usual!" He laughed. "I mean, you normally just throw things, but this monologue was very well done."

Through tears she said, "Get out." Her voice shook when she said it.

He continued, ignoring her, "However, for next time, I have a couple of suggestions-"

"Shut up!" The scream had been unexpected, but her continued distress was still entertaining. He laughed and threw his head back, but what he hadn't been expecting was for her to grab at him. She dragged him by the hand and began to try and shove him toward her door. He was caught off guard and she was able to drag him the whole way.

He stumbled down the stairs and he looked up at her, standing in the doorway. She was backlit from the warm light in the treehouse. Her hair was lit up golden and her eyes blazed. He very seldom admitted it, but Wendy was a force to be reckoned with. He knew this island was a cruel place and for her to have survived if for 120 years was a feat in and of itself. Not to mention she had remained steadfast in her irritating morals and principles.

For a moment, he was in awe.

She held his gaze. She held her chin up in defiance and her eyes glowed.

"I'll not be taking part in any more of your charades," she told him. "I hope you fail." And then she slammed the door in his face.

XXX

Peter Pan failed.