Author's Notes: Hey everyone! I am super excited to be posting this chapter! I don't know why but this chapter is a favorite of mine! I really hope you guys like it and thank you to everyone who has reviewed! So far the response has been incredible! Keep it up guys!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the OUAT characters, however the story is entirely my own : )

Chapter 8

Wendy is running through the woods again. She is

wearing a white nightgown, now stained red from what looks to be blood. She is darting through the forest and each tree she passes to her absolute horror, has a face. Sharp teeth and gaping black mouths are carved into the trunks and beady red eyes stare hungrily at her. She hears a growl, but the sound is not coming from the terrifying trees. It's coming from behind her.

Wendy turns her head and sees the black shadow once more. But instead of a black cloud, the shadow has a defined shape. A boy. It's remarkably similar to the shadow that first brought her to Neverland. In fact, she is almost sure that they are one in the same.

A wicked and mischievous grin appears on the shadow, it's teeth perfectly straight and crystal white. Wendy screams and continues running as fast as her legs can carry her. But as quick as she is moving, the shadow boy is quicker. Within no time, it has caught up to her and she can hear his breath and feel it on her neck.

The horrifying trees with faces begin to move, their gnarled branches snagging her nightgown and ripping it to pieces. Wendy screams in pain as the twigs catch her skin and draw blood. A hand grabs the back of her nightgown and sends her sprawling to the floor.

She turns over just in time to see the shadow boy looming over her. A sarcastic chuckle escapes his lips, promising mischief and danger. He advances towards Wendy with a dagger, already dripping with blood from a previous kill. The smell of salt and iron fills the air, making her convulse. But… there's another smell. A familiar one.

She does not have time to think about the faint scent of evergreen before the shadow boy lunges at her, plunging the dagger straight into her heart.

Wendy wakes up screaming.

"Bloody hell!"

Her cry pierces the silence of the night and sends Peter flying out of the bed. He crouches in a defensive stance, his hand gripping a dagger tightly. A dagger…

He quickly surveys the room and after coming to the conclusion that there is no threat, he relaxes and turns to Wendy, irritation written on his face. "Do you mind telling me why you decided to wake me up in the middle of the bloody night?"

She tries to answer, but she cannot stop the trembling of her entire body. Her throat burns and tears stream down her face. Her heart is pounding so fast, she fears it will give out any minute. She can still feel the faint memory of scorching pain as the blade entered her chest. It feels so real. Her head is pounding in her skull and she has to shut her eyes in order to dull the ache. She curls into herself on the bed, wrapping her arms protectively around herself. She can still see the shadow boy and the demented trees and the dagger, dripping with blood.

Peter continues bombarding her with questions, but she cannot answer a single one. They blur together into white noise. A hand firmly grasps her shoulder, and she is startled to see that Peter is leaning over her, his face showing a flicker of concern before disappearing and being replaced with irritation. The throbbing in her head and the pain in her chest begin to fade away, enough so that she can breathe deeply without feeling a sharp sting.

She lifts her head to find herself staring into emerald eyes. Peter. His hand still rests on her shoulder, and they both look down at the same time to the appendage before looking back up to each other. Peter quickly withdraws his hand as though he were burned. They sit in silence on the bed for another minute, him looking at her as though she would shatter if he so much as breathed too hard.

"What happened?" Peter demands.

"I just had another nightmare. I've been getting them almost every night since I came here. I'm sorry I woke you up. I can go find another place to sleep…" Wendy is not sure how Peter would react when she told him about the horrifying dreams she has, but she was not expecting this. His body is carved from stone and his fists are clenched. She feels the inexplicable urge to brace herself for what, she doesn't know.

"When did the nightmares start," he whispers carefully. His eyes are hard and unreadable.

"The first night I got here," she hedges, unsure of how he would react to that information.

"Tell me exactly what happens in these dreams of yours."

Wendy does not want to tell Peter. Knowing him, he would just use this weakness against her. Taunt her with it.

"Wendy. What happens?" By his tone of voice, she knows there is no getting out of this. He will not stop until he discovers what she dreams about. What she does not understand is why? Why does he care so much about what haunts her sleep?

She sighs, a shaky breath leaving her mouth and whispers, "I have nightmares. They've been happening ever since I got to Neverland. I don't know why, but I keep dreaming the same thing over and over. I am running through the Neverwoods and a shadow is chasing after me and… it kills me." At her last words, he lets out a low growl and Wendy looks up.

Peter's body is moving. Shaking. A strange golden glow is emanating from him. Wendy swears for a second that she sees his body lift off of the bed, but it happened too fast for her to truly tell. His emerald eyes slowly turn to a golden tint and his hair flies wildly around him, even though there is no wind. Papers swirl around the room, creating a whirlwind, and Wendy shields her eyes with her hands.

Peter seems oblivious to all that happens around him. His eyes lock onto hers, but she can tell that his mind is somewhere far away that she could never reach. Pure hatred fills the room. Broken glass and torn paper litter the floor. Wendy screams. "Peter!"

As if a flip has been switched, everything stops and the winds die down. She looks to Peter as he begins to relax. The strange glow fades away and the golden eyes turn back to his emerald ones. His body has stopped shaking, but his fists are still clenched tightly and there is still furious expression on his face.

They sit in silence and she can feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She sputters, trying to compose her thoughts, but nothing comes out. She has no idea what just happened, but she has never seen anything like it before. She does not recall her mother ever telling her that part about Peter Pan in her stories.

"W-what did you d-do?" She manages to ask after several moments of Peter watching her openly gape at him as though he were a sideshow attraction.

He clenches his jaw and she catches the subtle twitch. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

She immediately begins to protest, but he cuts her off. "I mean it, Wendy." She can tell that he is being completely serious for once. "Let it go. You and your brothers will be better off." It was a clever move on his part to bring her brothers into this. He knows that she would never do anything that would potentially put them in harm's way.

She opens her mouth to speak, but he interrupts her yet again and she groans rather audibly in frustration. Peter pretends as though did not hear a single thing. "You are to stay with me every night. This is nonnegotiable."

Wendy stares in disbelief at his statement. Why would Peter want her with him? She was nothing more than a nuisance to him. Just a pawn to use and play before discarding. Why would he want her around?

"You can't be serious."

Peter raises his eyebrow in a silent challenge. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I am a bother to you," Wendy whispers, her eyes slightly downcast. For some unknown reason, the thought saddens her greatly.

Peter rolls his eyes at her dejected state. "Didn't we resolve this earlier tonight? I will not say it again."

And Wendy did not expect him to. But some small part of her wished that he would. She wanted another confirmation that she was not some object to him. She immediately buried that thought deep down, never to see the light of day.

Still, she was wanting something more from him, she just did not know what. "Why must I stay here now every night?"

Peter stared at anything but her. His jaw was clenching and relaxing as if he were physically restraining himself from answering the seemingly simple question. After another minute had passed, he ground out, "I can keep the nightmares at bay."

She almost laughs. It seems a completely ridiculous notion that he could actually control her dreams. Although… as she thought more and more, she considers how many impossible things she has seen so far whilst in Neverland, a place that was never even meant to exist. After all she has observed, she supposes that to be able to manipulate a person's dream wasn't the most far-fetched idea anymore.

Instead of arguing, she nods her head, too exhuasted to truly care anymore. It was very early in the morning. The sun would not be up for another few hours and she was hoping that what Peter said was true. She greatly desired a deep sleep that did not contain horrifying nightmares of shadows and daggers.

She lies back down, burrowing herself underneath the soft pelts. Not a minute after she has closed her eyes, does Wendy feel an irresistable warmth seeping into her back, chasing away the chilling cold that comes from her nightmares. She startles for a moment when she feels the presence behind her, lying just mere inches from her body. She quietly sucks in a breath at the realization of how close they are to one another. If she were to lean back only slightly, they would be pressing against each other. The thought was entirely too tempting.

"Do not overthink this. I just don't want you screaming bloody murder and waking me up again."

Wendy smiles to herself. There was almost a certain comfort in hearing Peter's usual patronizing voice. It was something predictable. Dependable.

Wendy pauses and blinks. What was she thinking? Peter being dependable? Comforting? This was outrageous! She should not be having these thoughts about him! He was only to serve a purpose, and that was giving her and her brothers a way off the island.

She should not be finding his presence comforting. And she most definitely should not be wanting him to put his arms around her and hold her close to his chest. She has had these kind of thoughts before, and they never end well. She should stop. Now. But it was so very difficult to when she could feel his body heat seeping into her and know that he was only inches away from her.

She could not calm down her pounding heart, nor could she stop the incessant fidgeting as her mind begins to construct images of her and Peter pressed up against each other, as close as two people could possibly get. Their bodies melding into one another, rolling together like the waves of the sea. She could feel her blood pumping and an ache at her core that has begun to feel familiar whenever she was around Peter. Her thighs rub together, desperately trying to ease the pressure slowly building up inside of her. But no amount of movement gives her the relief she needs.

This went on for several minutes until she hears Peter growl behind her, "Stop moving or I will kick you to the floor."

Wendy immediately ceases her fidgeting, forcing herself to remain completely still, even though the ache between her legs has yet to subside. She stares at the floor below her, studying the grains and patterns in the wood, just to find anything that will take her mind away from her inappropriate thoughts. After a few minutes, she gives up on the floor. Wendy turns onto her back, peeking out of the corner of her eye to see if Peter was still awake. His back is to her and his shoulders rise up and down evenly, but she cannot tell if he is asleep. "Peter?" she whispers in the dark. She does not expect him to respond, but she is surprised to hear his annoyed, "What?"

Wendy hesitates for a moment, unsure whether she really wants to tell him, but she decides that she should, if only for the fact that talking about it might make her feel better. "I'm scared to fall asleep."

She does not hear anything for a moment, but then Peter grumbles, "They're just dreams, Wendy. None of it is real."

Some rational part of her knows that, but the other part of her is terrified to face that shadow again. "It feels real."

Peter groans. "I told you I would keep them away, alright? Now go to sleep."

Wendy nods, even though she knows he can't see her. She feels the inexplicable need to trust him, even though she hasn't the slightest clue why that is. She feels protected, as if nothing could harm her, so long as she was next to him. She sighs and turns onto her back again, not wanting to think anymore about the strange progression in her relationship with Peter. She simply hopes that she is able to get a few more hours of sleep before the sun has risen.

Wendy can confront Peter in the morning about what happened with his eyes and the unnatural glow radiating from his body. Until then, sleep was her greatest concern. Her eyes become heavier from the exhaustion of all that has transpired in the past day. She silently prays that for once, Peter was telling her the honest truth and could control her nightmares.

Wendy falls asleep, unaware of the emerald eyes on her slumbering figure.

This girl was going to be the death of him. It had taken him several hours just to fall asleep and not minutes later was he being woken up by a bloodcurdling scream that sent every hair on his body standing up. At first, he was irritated with her for waking him because of some foolish dream, but when she told him what the dream was, his irritation soon turned to fury.

How dare he? The fury Peter feels towards him is unlike anything he has ever felt before. It consumes him, devours him, until all he feels is the need to kill this impudent mirror image of himself. How dare he try to hurt her? Peter will find him, and when he does, he will pay severely for his actions. Peter refuses to let his crimes go unpunished. Anybody on this island knows that his word is law. He is the ruler. He is the king-not this pathetic shadow-self of his.

He has disobeyed Peter in the past and every time Peter was there to show him the error of his ways. But there was something different about this time. Peter wanted to tear his limbs off. He wanted to claw out his eyes. He wanted to stand over the shredded remains of his mirror image and laugh at him, taking great pleasure in the fact that he had destroyed him. Peter has been around for awhile and very few times has he ever felt such unbridled rage. It was disconcerting to say the least.

He always took pride in the amount of control he had over his emotions. But when he heard of what his shadow was doing to her, something inside him snapped and he momentarily lost control of the tight leash he kept on his powers. They had spilled out of him, causing chaos and destruction as always. But the problem this time was that Wendy was there with him. He had hoped to keep her in the dark about everything, but somehow she had managed to slip behind his defenses, wiggling her way through until she reached a place that he never allowed anyone to see. It was unsettling to know that this girl had seen a part of him that no one has seen in several centuries. And it was all her fault.

Peter, now sitting up in bed, looks down at the troublesome girl. She had turned over in her sleep, now facing him, and Peter shoves down the small part of him that enjoys knowing she had moved towards him while unconscious. What was this girl doing to him? He was having thoughts that he should not be thinking and he was doing things that he should not be doing. He has been feeling things he should not be feeling. Why? Ever since this child has arrived in Neverland, he has been acting differently and he does not like it. He needs to rid himself of her, but he doesn't know how.

He doesn't even think he could now looking at her sleeping form. He studies her face. Her long eyelashes, button nose, and full lips… Those lips would most certainly be the death of him. There have been countless times when he would catch himself staring at those lips and want them to be on his. His heartbeat picks up just thinking about it.

He shakes his head. He needs to get this girl out of his head. He must remember his plan. Once he has her writhing underneath him in pleasure, he can finally be rid of her. Toss her aside and move on. That should eradicate any thoughts or feelings he might have. His mouth quirks up at the promise of what's to come. He was going to enjoy this immensely.

He hears a small gasp that immediately catches his attention. He is on guard, ready to eliminate any danger, only to silently scold himself for becoming so tense. She was probably only having another nightmare. His jaw clenches. He will destroy his pathetic shadow-self. Tonight. He does not want to keep waking up in the middle of the night to her screaming bloody murder, although it's not like he could sleep much this night. The thought of her sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes and smelling her arousal seeping from her was almost too much for him. It took him hours to calm down his pounding heart and restrain himself from reaching over and taking her, much to his displeasure. He was countless millennia old, how could he be acting like a lustful teenager! It was utterly embarrassing.

He hears another gasp, followed by a short whine. This peaks his interest. He examines her closely and notices that her hands are now grasping the furs tightly. Her body is moving, fidgeting. He can see her thighs are rubbing together and can smell the distinct scent of arousal in the air. A knowing smirk pulls at his lips. She is not having a nightmare. She is having a very good dream.

It requires every ounce of control he has to restrain himself from taking her right there and then. He turns away and closes his eyes, clenching his fists so that he is not tempted. But it is so very tempting. She is right there and so clearly wanting. It would be so easy for him to take her, but something holds him back. He wants for he to enjoy herself when they finally join. He wants to give her pleasure she has never imagined possible. And most importantly, he wants to be the only to give it to her.

From behind him, he can hear her whimpers that have slowly progressed into soft moans. His hands grip the pelts so tightly, he is surprised that they are not ripped to shreds by now. Just when he is about to simply leave and go sleep somewhere else for the remainder of the night, he hears something that catches his breath and stalls his departure.

"...ter… "

He opens his eyes and turns around, looking down at her to see that Wendy is smiling in her sleep. She sighs. "Peter…"

His heart has stopped altogether. He reaches forward without thinking, his finger brushing across her cheek and another sigh escapes her as she leans into his touch. He pulls his hand away, as though he were burned. Is she… dreaming about me?

His mind has gone blank except for one word that sings through his blood and urges him out of the bed. Protect. He slips on his jacket and boots, refusing to look back as he steps out into the cool night air.

He is going to find his shadow and when he does, he will tear it to shreds.

The light streaming in through the windows momentarily blinds Wendy as she squints and holds up a hand to block the bright rays. She shivers in the crisp morning air and glances to her left to see that Peter is no longer beside her. She tries to ignore the swelling disappointment that weighs her down. Of course he wouldn't stay with her. What was she thinking? He probably just woke up and left, eager to start his day of mischief and cruelty.

She glances around Peter's room. Everything is as it should be. There is no broken glass or scattered papers that would indicate anything had happened last night, but she knows she was not imagining this. Peter was glowing and the wind was howling inside his bedroom. His eyes had turned gold. There was no possibility that she could have dreamed that, though by the state of his room, it was looking that way.

She sighs to herself and hops out of the bed, her bare feet touching the cold floorboards. She shivers and reaches for her jacket only to realize that she is still in Peter's clothes and hers were nowhere to be seen. Where did he put all of her clothes? Did he not grab them from the lake when he saved her yesterday? She grumbles to herself. He probably did this on purpose so I would have no choice but to wear his clothes. She puts on her boots-the only thing that Peter did seem to grab-and leaves the house, determined to find Peter and confront him about last night and her missing clothes.

Wendy thinks back to last night. Peter seemed furious when she told him about her dream. What did she say to upset him like that? It was just a dream-he told her as much himself! But why was he irate when she told him about it? He started glowing! There are a lot of things about Peter that she knows he isn't telling her and she is determined to uncover them all.

All the other boys have already sat down and are enjoying their morning meal. But when Wendy enters the room, utensils clatter on the table and all conversations stop. Every boy has their eyes on her and she hears whispers and giggling as she sits down in her usual seat. Her cheeks turn a rosy pink from the attention.

Wendy notices Felix has not said a word to her. He only glares intensely at the bowl in front of him, unmoving. She hopes that him and Peter have resolved whatever conflict there was between them. She wants things to get back to normal-athough she is not even sure what normal is anymore. And it probably is not helping matters that she is only wearing Peter's clothes, which is fairly obvious to everyone at the table.

"Good morning, Felix," she says cheerfully, attempting to make polite conversation and rid the thick tension in the air.

"Hello, Wendy," he says with cold indifference.

"Are you all right?" She does not know what is the matter with him, but she is not sure that she likes this uncomfortable tension between them.

He stiffens and says, "Why wouldn't I be?"

She is not sure how to respond to that and decides that she should not say anything. Felix then says, "Did you sleep well?" Before she can respond he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I notice that you're wearing Peter's clothes."

Wendy gasps indignantly and begins to stutter out an explanation, but he cuts her off before she can even open her mouth.

"No, I understand. You can do what you want with him. I don't care."

The cruelty in his harsh words pierces her heart and she winces, but Felix is not done talking. "You know he can't love, right? He is physically incapable of it. He will never care for you the way you obviously care for him. He will just end up shattering your heart and sending you home so your family is left picking up the pieces."

Wendy starts to defend herself, but Felix abruptly gets up, his chair scraping the floor and causing everyone to look their way. He storms past everyone, not bothering to acknowledge any of the boys. Before he leaves, he turns and says callously, "You might want to wear your own clothes before you get to breakfast, otherwise everyone will know that you've been sleeping with Peter."

All heads turn towards Wendy and her face burns a dark crimson, humiliation and embarassment making her want to curl up under the table and cry.

What Felix was implying isn't true, she knows that, but it still makes her feel disgusted at herself. Now all the boys who are old enough to understand what he was talking about will think that her and Peter were together last night. She feels ashamed of herself. She should have known better than to allow Peter to persuade her into sleeping in his room last night. She should have known that there would be consequences, but whenever she is around him, she loses all sensible thought. And right now, she wishes more than anything that he were there with her to defend her against all the boys who were now giggling and whispering behind hands about her.

The thought startles her. Why is she missing him? It is a ridiculous notion that she should not be thinking, but no matter how she looks at it, it is undeniable that she misses Peter Pan. She shakes her head. This was a very strange morning indeed. She hears more snickering and decides that she should not have to be here listening to their mockery. She gets up, ignoring the hushed talking behind her. She sees John and Michael a few seats down and walks towards them, trying to put a bright smile on her face in an attempt to distract them from the chatter at the table.

"Peter is supposed to be taking me swimming today. Would you care to join us?" Wendy asks cheerily. She cannot remember the last time her and her brothers got to play and talk with each other and just behave like normal siblings. With her spending so much time around Felix and Peter, she has hardl had the time to see her brothers and she misses them greatly.

Michael's eyes light up and he is about to rise from his seat when John puts a hand on his arm, staying him. John looks at her with the most disgust she has ever seen from him. Usually, her brother was a sensible and level-headed boy, but what she saw from his expression was anger and revulsion.

"How could you do that, Wendy?" John whispers rather loudly, drawing attention from the other boys around the table.

"Do what?" She replies, avoinding his judgemental gaze.

"You know… that… with Peter." John may have matured these past few years, but he was still just a boy who was repulsed at any intimacy-even between their parents.

Wendy tries to explain that her and Peter did nothing but sleep after her almost drowning from mermaids and being rescued by him, but it was quite a long story and John cut her off before she could even begin.

"Stop. I don't want to hear excuses. What would Mother and Father say?" His tone is patronizing and she suddenly feels like she is a small child again.

"But I didn't-" Wendy starts, but John stops her again.

"Just go."

Micheal looks as though he wants to go with her, but John keeps his grip firm on his younger brother as they let their sister walk out with her head down, ashamed at her own behavior. Before she even has the chance to take a step outside, Peter staggers inside the room. All of the Lost Boys stand up immediately, shocked at the state their leader is in.

Peter is leaning heavily on the door frame and a sheen of sweat covers his forehead. His body is trembling, as though it could no longer support itself. His clothes have been torn to shreds and there is a dark red stain on his abdomen, spreading by the second. Blood. The fluid drips down onto the floor, staining the wood a deep red. He lifts his head shakily to see Wendy in front of him and his eyes lock on hers only for a moment.

"Wendy," he moans, and then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor.

Author's Notes: DUH DUH DUH! I'm sorry about the cliffhanger, but it was just too good to pass up on! Anyways, did you guys like this chapter? I'm letting everyone know now that things will probably heat up in the next chapters so you have been warned! I did rate this fanfiction mature for a reason!

What does everyone think? Things are starting to heat up a bit for Wendy and Peter and I am absolutely loving this! Fair warning: I probably won't be posting the next chapter very soon. I am super busy this next week and I won't have a lot of time to write, but I will do my best! Please keep reading and reviewing! I love hearing everybody's thoughts! Until next time!