Dark Paradise

by ladykikyo1792

Peter Pan is dead, and Wendy Darling is now living in Storybrooke. Pretty and popular at her high school, no one guesses that now, months later, she still has nightmares of The Boy Who Never Grew Up. As she struggles to fit in and forget her past, a string of murders make her wonder if her past will ever let her go- or if he really died. AU where Peter isn't Rumple's father.

22. Chapter 22: Love is for fools

Author's Note:

Hi guys! So I know I'm really late again, but grad school owns my soul. BUT this is a super long chapter for you, with about 25 pages in Word! So I hope it's worth the wait. :) Anyway, thank you SO MUCH to those of you who take the time to review. It really makes my day to see them and makes me so happy. If you have a username, I should have messaged you telling you you're wonderful; if I didn't, it was totally an accident! Message me and I shall rectify it and properly tell you how marvelous you are. Shoutout as always to the magnificent Hildebrant for providing absolutely perfect chapter titles. I really don't know how you do it.

To the guests:

Guest 1- I did continue! And you can read it here. I'm sorry the chapters take so long, but I'm in grad school and I rarely have free time. When I do have free time, I typically sleep. But I love this story and I'm not giving it up, so don't worry!

Anon- I'm glad you liked the chapter! And as for more romance, you'll just have to read. ;) And oh my goodness you made sketches!? Please let me see them! I'm so flattered and honored and oh my goodness I can't believe you made sketches!

Guest 2- thank you for the very kind words! I appreciate them. :) And I did continue. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Alice- yes, they (finally) kissed! I was waiting to write it haha, but I felt it had to be believable in the context of the story. You're more than welcome for the update, and I hope you enjoy this one just as much as the last!

Emalys- thank you so very much for taking the time to review! Your English is excellent. I'm really happy you like my story and am honored you think my writing is brilliant. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Beca- Thank you so much for the kind words! I'm really happy you like it and that the twists surprise you. I love Felix and Tink too. As for seeing more of them, you'll have to read- and same with Slightly and Gretel. I agree with you that there's definitely a little something between them, though I'm not sure either of them knows what to do about it. Time will tell with Nibs and Grace. Peter and Wendy are my OTP too (if you couldn't figure that out lol). I can't believe you cried when he kissed her! Again, thank you so much for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter too!

Guest 3- Thank you for reviewing! To answer, Wendy's not so much conspiring against Peter so much as she's trying to not kill anyone else lol. And Pan is like the king of mixed signals, so Wendy honestly can't figure out what he feels most of the time. But she doesn't hate him. Quite the opposite.

To everyone:

Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

~ladykikyo1792

---

Chapter 22: Love is for fools who fall behind, and I'm somewhere in between- I never really know a killer from a savior.

The next afternoon, Wendy found herself in Regina's new apartment (with Felix, her ever present Shadow, looking decidedly unhappy to be there). Despite the fact that the apartment had been hastily acquired by the mayor, her belongings were already in place, and it seemed as though no one else could live there save her. Stainless steel appliances decorated the kitchen, while the living room was filled with furniture made of black wood. White cushions atop the wooden couch frame made the area look slightly more comfortable, but overall, the place looked like somewhere a high-class executive would live rather than a mother and son (or so Wendy thought, from the limited television she watched).

Nevertheless, Henry seemed oblivious to how sterile the apartment seemed. He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment.

Henry called, "Wendy, do you want a drink?" She couldn't help but notice he ignored Felix's presence entirely. Felix narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, but said nothing.

"I'm okay," she answered, then amended, "Maybe some water."

Obligingly, Henry reappeared in the living room, handing Wendy a glass of water. She accepted it gratefully, waiting for him to mention their code. He didn't, and simply eyed her as she took a dainty sip.

"So, Henry…" Wendy trailed off, "Shall we play a game?" It had only been a day since Regina had removed his heart and stowed it away in her vault. Could it be possible for Pan to have taken Henry's heart already?

Yes, a faint voice inside her head whispered.

Don't be ridiculous! Wendy mentally berated herself, shaking her head. She couldn't seem to stop thinking of Peter. However, she reminded herself, while Peter was powerful, and unlike anyone she'd ever met, he wasn't a ghost. He wasn't a monster from the darkness who could creep about, overhearing everything, omniscient, knowing everything-

He knew everything in Neverland-

But we're not in Neverland, Wendy thought firmly, Not anymore. He can't know everything, and I have to stop thinking of him like that.

Henry unwittingly drew her back to reality, "Yes! And I know exactly which one!" He winked at her, then dashed in the depths of the apartment, presumably to his room. A few seconds later he returned, bearing something called "Monopoly: Disney Edition." Grinning widely, he set up the board, offering Wendy the chance to pick the figurine whom would be her token- or, he explained, the piece she'd move around the board. Somewhat wary, Wendy selected a silver figurine of two dogs.

"Lady and the Tramp," Henry observed.

Wendy looked at him quizzically, and he laughed, "You'll have to watch the movie sometime." The girl shrugged, but accepted his advice.

Meanwhile, Henry finally acknowledged the Lost Boy, "What about you, Felix? Wanna play? I've got the perfect token for you!" he lifted a figurine of a boy standing with his hands on his hips, legs spread wide, and a cocky smile on his face, "Know who it is?"

"No," Felix said curtly.

"It's Peter Pan!"

At that, Felix blanched, "Pan? That is supposed to be Pan?"

"Mmhm," Henry confirmed, "That's why I thought you could play as him."

Felix replied, incredulous, "Play? This game is ridiculous. To think that that is Pan!" he sneered, "I can't even watch!" With that, the Lost Boy strode towards the entryway, muttering angrily to himself. He opened the front door, then slammed it shut. Wendy knew he wouldn't leave- he'd just lean against the front door, still fuming over how this game had depicted Peter.

Triumphantly, Henry turned to her, "Operation Raptor at work!"

Wendy blinked in surprise, "You planned that?"

"Yeah," the boy replied, "I had to get him out of here so he wouldn't overhear our code. Felix may not be interested in board games, but had he sat and watched us every day he would have picked up on something. Now he'll never even come in."

Wendy couldn't help but be impressed, "You're right, Henry. Absolutely right." She smiled, "So what's our code?"

"One of the other tokens is Tinkerbell," Henry pointed out a gold token, which depicted a fairy in midflight (though, Wendy noted, it looked nothing like the real Tinkerbell), "I'll tell you midway through the game that Tinkerbell is flying over the castle."

"That's very…specific."

"Well, I don't want you to mix it up with something else in the game," the boy shrugged, "And because it's so uncommon, if Pan does get my heart, it's not something he'd ever know to say, even if he did know we played the game every day."

"Very true," Wendy conceded.

"So do you know how to play?" Henry asked.

Wendy admitted, blushing slightly, "Not at all."

"Okay!" the boy said brightly, "I'll teach you."

They spent the next few hours playing Monopoly. Henry won most of the games, but just before she left for the day, Wendy did manage to take one victory from him. Instead of being put out at his loss, Henry seemed happy Wendy had finally gotten the hang of the game. He waved goodbye to her.

Regina merely muttered a curt, "Thank you, Miss Darling," before shutting the door. Sighing, Wendy shouldered her backpack and began to walk home. She didn't look behind her, but knew Felix followed her (as usual).

Just then, her cell phone buzzed. She picked it up, frowning at the text message:

GRACE: R u coming to the dance?

WENDY: I don't think that's a good idea.

GRACE: U can't stay in that house 4ever. It's not good for u.

WENDY: It's not good for everyone else when I come out.

GRACE: I know u feel bad about Ferdinand-

At that, tears filled Wendy's eyes. Bad? Bad? Wendy felt terrible about what happened to Ferdinand. She felt it was her fault- God, it was her fault, it was, it was –and how could she risk that happening to someone else?

First Del, then Hook's first crew, then Rufio-

Wendy's hand flew to her mouth. She did her best to forget about the deaths on her conscience, and of them all, she'd long felt Rufio's was the worst. Perhaps it was because there was never any real explanation for it. She'd long since realized that the mermaids had drowned Del on Peter's orders (for no one could be close to Wendy but Peter), and the Lost Boys had killed the pirates (for no one could endanger Wendy), and Ferdinand- poor Ferdinand –had suffered the same sentence as Del for the same reason. But Rufio? Rufio's death had been far more complex.

---

"Wendy-" Rufio's voice came through the dark Neverland night, softer than the softest wind.

"Rufio, you shouldn't be here," Wendy whispered frantically from her treehouse window. Peter had left, but only for a moment. It seemed the Indians had decided to launch a surprise attack on the Lost Boys encampment, and Peter, of course, had flown to defend them. Rufio too should have been with them.

"I know," he answered, "and neither should you." He stared up at her from the ground, then scaled the tree.

"What are you saying?"

"What we're all thinking," Rufio whispered. He leaned across her windowsill, "Peter is…he's not himself. He hasn't been, not for a long while-"

"Rufio-"

"-and it's not safe. Boys are disappearing, and it's not just because of the mermaids. Anyone who says anything against Peter disappears."

"Which is why you need to stop what you're saying," Wendy commanded him quietly, "Right now."

Rufio grimaced, "I can't. It's too late for that. The Boys are divided. They all know Peter, and his quest for the Heart of the Truest Believer has changed everything. Some of them think the best thing to do is be more loyal to him than ever. They think that loyalty will save them. But others- others are coming to me. They want me to either kill him-"

Wendy gasped.

"-or help them escape," Rufio paused, "Despite everything, Peter's my friend. And I won't kill him. But I do think we need to leave Neverland. All of us. Including you."

"That's impossible, Rufio. No one can leave Neverland, unless Pan says so-"

"Then I'll make him say so!"

"Rufio," Wendy pleaded, "No. You're my friend. I don't want to see you get hurt. You need to stop this. Now."

"But Wendy-" Rufio began, though the girl held up a hand and cut him off, "No, Rufio. I mean it. Not another word. The other Boys are right. Loyalty to Pan…that's what will keep them safe. Once he has the Heart, everything will go back to normal. Everything will be all right again," the words sounded hollow to Wendy's ears, but even so, she swallowed and continued, "and that's what you need to tell the boys who come to you. Tell them exactly that- be loyal to Peter, remember he was the one that brought them here, and when he gets the Heart, everything will be like it was before."

"Wendy," Rufio said, his voice sad, "It will never be like it was before."

"'Never say never in Neverland,'" Wendy whispered back, citing an adage she'd often heard Peter say, "And Rufio…"

The Lost Boy paused mid-climb back to the forest, "Yes, Wendy?"

"Never speak of this again. Promise me."

"I promise," Rufio said.

---

Wendy never found out whether he did say anything to the other Lost Boys or not, though Rufio never mentioned the subject to her again. But perhaps the trees of Neverland had heard their furtive whispers that night, and perhaps they'd carried the words to Peter's ears.

Or perhaps things had been less supernatural, and Peter had simply noticed that Rufio was becoming more popular than he. The Lost Boys began to seek him out more, asking him questions, inquiring what game to play, whether they would fight the Indians. Wendy saw all this, and she did her best to make Rufio less of a target by speaking less and less to the Lost Boy she'd once considered her closest friend. He respected her wishes, though every once in a while she'd notice him glance at her across the fire. His eyes were sad.

Perhaps Peter noticed that too.

All she did know was that one day Hook, his pirates, and the Lost Boys were in a great battle again, this time aboard the Jolly Roger. Wendy detested battle, but a part of her still considered herself to be the Boys' mother (at least some of them, anyway), and so she had swum after them, hauling herself aboard with a small pack of healing supplies on her back.

The very first thing she saw was burned into her mind forever.

Hook and Rufio were fighting. Fiercely, they locked their swords together, grunting with the effort. They must have been shouting insults at each other- Wendy could see their lips moving –but amid the other screaming of the battle, Wendy couldn't hear them. She looked around for Peter- why was Rufio fighting Hook? Hook had always been Peter's target –and spotted him dueling Starkey, a pirate who had currently pushed Curly against a wall and was seconds away from wounding him (it was only Peter's intervention that had stayed Starkey's hand). Rufio must have jumped in to take Pan's place fighting the captain.

While Wendy understood the logic, something about it still didn't seem quite right.

Nevertheless, she stood frozen like a statue, unable to tear her eyes away from the bloodshed going on around her. Over and over again, her gaze was drawn to Hook and Rufio, who continued fighting each other for all they were worth. Their swords slid against one another, the screech of steel ringing through the air. Then, suddenly, there was a scuffle, Hook leaned in at an angle, and his sword seemed to disappear.

Dizzily, Wendy wondered, How strange. Where could it have gone?

Then Rufio's scream brought her out of her stupor. Her hands clapped to her mouth. His scream was like nothing she'd ever heard before.

"Rufio!" Wendy cried, her pack falling to the ground, forgotten. The Lost Boy sputtered, coughing up blood. Hook withdrew his sword from the boy's chest, and the Lost Boy stumbled to the ground. Wendy caught him in her arms, tears welling up in her eyes.

The entire battle stopped around them. Both pirates and Lost Boys alike were shocked- never before had a pirate given a Lost Boy what could only be a mortal wound. Even Hook himself appeared stunned. Boys'd been hurt before, sometimes gravely, but never had they been dealt a death blow. How could such a thing have happened?

How could a Lost Boy die at the hands of a pirate?

"Rufio," tears flew freely from Wendy's eyes as she brushed hair out of his face. Black and red strands tangled freely with equally red blood. The blood, though, was darker. Thick, it flowed downwards, some of his hair bathed in it. It made her want to vomit, and she tried to move some of his hair out of the path of the blood. Rufio's eyes followed her movements, and unbelievably he seemed to smile. His smile quickly faded, though, as he realized that he, a Lost Boy, a boy whom Peter Pan had promised immortality, was dying. He was dying, and with his death, he had failed. He had failed at the one thing he had secretly promised himself he would do. If he was to die, though, he didn't want it to be secret anymore. So it was that he gasped out, chest heaving:

"Do you know what I wish? I wish...I could have saved you." Then he coughed once more, and his head fell to the side.

"It's all right," Wendy whispered, not even sure who she was talking to, "It's all right. It's all right-" then she too slumped over, her body curled over his as she cradled him in her arms. Then she started to sob.

There was an awful silence as the Lost Boys and the pirates took the scene in: one of their own dead, held by their distraught mother, her chest wracked with the very force of her tears. It seemed, for once, that even Peter had no words. But a few minutes afterwards, he turned his gaze towards Hook and said:

"You'll regret this, I swear. We'll settle this later. Felix."

Hook said nothing in reply. Gently, Felix bent towards Wendy and tried to pull Rufio's body from her grasp. The girl nearly snarled at him, furious:

"No. Don't you dare touch him." Even then, a part of her knew that Peter had allowed this to happen. Peter had allowed it, which meant Felix had to know. Yet from the anger and distress in Felix's own eyes, it seemed he hadn't. This murder was one secret that Pan had kept from Felix, and wisely. For even though Felix had replaced Rufio, he still regarded him- as he did all the Lost Boys -as a brother. Still, Wendy couldn't bear to have someone associated with Peter touch him. It seemed so...wrong.

"Wendy-lady," this time it was Slightly who knelt next to her, "You're not strong enough to carry him. That's all we want to do. We just want to carry him." Slowly, she raised her eyes to Slightly's. His were grief-stricken, and she realized the awful truth that he was right. She couldn't carry Rufio on her own. He was bigger than her, and she would drop his body, and oh God, he'd already been killed today. He didn't need to have his body fall in the dirt as well.

So it was that she reluctantly released him, and Slightly and Felix slid their hands underneath Rufio's body. She watched as they carefully picked him up and Peter gave them pixie dust- for he still had enough to let the others fly at this point -and they slowly flew towards the shore. The rest of the Lost Boys silently followed suit, jumping into the air without any of their rambunctiousness. Last of all, Peter picked Wendy up and carried her, bloody nightgown and all, through the air back to Neverland as storm clouds formed above them.

---

Wendy wiped at the tears in her eyes. Rufio was gone, and now Ferdinand was gone. Was a dance worth risking someone else's life?

Still, she looked down to see the remainder of Grace's text:

GRACE: I know u feel bad about Ferdinand, but staying in that house isn't good for u. It's just 1 night. And u don't need a date. Gret and I will take u. ;)

Despite herself, Wendy couldn't help but laugh. It was a little hysterical laugh, bubbling up from inside her. Just then, Grace texted her again:

GRACE: Come on, Wendy. U want to go!

The girl paused, then sighed and typed back:

WENDY: Okay, fine. But you have to promise you won't upset Pan.

GRACE: We won't. I won't steal u. Plus, do u really think he would be threatened by me?

At that, Wendy bit her lip. Grace had a point.

WENDY: That's true. Just…be careful, okay?

GRACE: I promise. Make sure u get a costume 2night- Gret and I have to do French homework or we'd take u. See u tomorrow!

WENDY: See you tomorrow.

---

Peter grit his teeth, and reminded himself of Titania's promise. Soon, he would leave. Thus he endured four years, scars marking up and down his back, staff studiously ignoring Lord Ponsoby's condemnations of his son, and finally, finally, he went to Eton, and as his fairy godmother had told him, it was blissfully free of his father- mostly. There were times on break where he was forced to return home, where Lord Ponsoby resumed punishing his son for success.

Yet, if Lord Ponsoby expected the beatings to quell his son, he was sorely disappointed. Peter had decided the very day he'd first been beaten- just as he had decided earlier that day he would win -that he would never give in. He kept this promise in school, gaining numerous commendations for his efforts, and strove to be the best at anything he could- which was quite a lot. When he was home and others made compliments about it to his father, Lord Ponsoby responded by smiling in public and beating him senseless when they returned to the family manor. There were many times when Peter passed out from the pain, only to awaken hours later and find himself still bleeding in the library. Every so often, he could hear his mother cry outside the door when his father beat him, but she never did anything.

She was utterly unlike Ian's mother. Ian, one of his two greatest friends from Eton, was the son of the earl of Kintore. Although Peter had never confided to either of his friends about what his father was doing- and the two were too polite to ever ask -Ian frequently asked Peter over to his house.

Peter wished desperately for a mother that was anything like Ian's. She was everything his mother wasn't: warm, kind, loving, and simply proud of anything Ian did. Whenever Ian wrote home about something wonderful that had happened about school, his mother always sent a letter of warm congratulations and usually some extra pocket money. Whenever Ian wrote home about something going wrong at school, his mother's response was to immediately send up a tin of cookies and an encouraging letter. The other boys in their year made fun of him for it, but Ian just shrugged it off. Peter, meanwhile, was heartily jealous.

Peter and Ian were fourteen years old, and seated at the dinner table in the Montague household. It was Christmas break, and grades had come back. Both Ian and Peter had scored top marks in all their courses, and Lady Montague had promptly ordered a celebratory dinner for the pair. Then Ian brightly shared the news that Peter was the youngest player to make the polo team in over twenty years, and Lady Montague had exclaimed that they must have a cake for him.

Peter replied, "No, ma'am, thank you, but you've already done enough-" Peter had every desire to be the best, and truthfully, he was ecstatic about making the team. However, he was very fond of Ian, and while he didn't often rein in the accolades accorded to him (he never would, no matter how his father tried to make him), he didn't want to overshadow his friend at a dinner meant to honor both of them. Ian was like his brother, and he valued that friendship deeply.

"Nonsense!" Lady Montague tittered, "We must celebrate!" She happily swanned out of the room, calling orders to servants in her bell-like voice.

"Sorry, Ian," Peter said.

"Nonsense!" Ian said cheerfully, his voice an excellent imitation of his mother's, "Really, Peter, she gets excited when I wake up every day. It's nice to have someone else around she can be excited about. Besides," he grinned, "You couldn't pay me to play polo. Cricket, though...that we may have to fight about come spring."

Peter grinned back.

---

Peter walked throughout Regina's- well, his –mansion. He had been brooding all afternoon- about Wendy, about the dance, about his entire plan. He knew he would win- of that he had no doubt. But he didn't want to do so with her angry at him. Peter didn't expect her to forgive him right away, or even to understand. But he thought she would.

Though perhaps, Pan mused, he would have to explain to her, and reveal far more than he would have liked. He wanted to trust Wendy, but after their last encounter with the Charmings in Neverland, he felt uncomfortable sharing some things with her. However, in this matter, it wasn't an issue of trust, but rather that he didn't like to remember his life before Neverland. When he was Peter Ponsoby- not Peter Pan.

"Pan."

He was interrupted from his melancholy by Slightly. The Lost Boy- in truth, perhaps the very first Lost Boy (though he shared that title with Nibs) –was leaning against the stairs. The brown leather he'd sported in Neverland had been replaced by dark blue jeans, a black button-down shirt, and a type of sneakers Felix had identified as Converses.

"Slightly," Peter nodded to him, "What do you need?" There were few that he would allow to interrupt him when he was alone, but Slightly was one of those few.

"I was just wondering…" Slightly trailed off, "Are we going?"

"To what?" Pan's eyebrows furrowed.

Slightly took a breath, "The dance." Peter stiffened, crossed his arms, and queried:

"And why would we go to that?"

"Isn't Wendy going?" Slightly inquired. Before Peter could cut him off, he continued, "Pan- Peter- I know. About you and her," he swallowed, "We all did."

"Your point?"

"You want her to come to Neverland," Slightly replied. It wasn't a question. He was trying to phrase it in such a way as to not incite his friend.

"I fail to see what that has to do with a dance," Pan said disdainfully.

"You can't force her to go," the Lost Boy pointed out, "You need to persuade her."

"I can do anything," Peter retorted.

"I know," Slightly affirmed, ever-aware that this was true, "but do you want her to hate you? Besides, that's not us. We don't treat women like that-"

"I already put her in a cage," Peter pointed out darkly, "How is this different?"

"You and I both know you did that to keep her safe from the Charmings, but Wendy didn't-"

"How do you know that, Slightly? You betrayed me," Peter replied, "You claim to understand me now?" He was still very bitter about the first betrayal, though he knew that Slightly would never betray him again. He'd proved himself.

"I know you," Slightly answered, "and you know me. You know I miss my parents. I faltered by that temptation. I admit that, and I'm sorry. It was a mistake to betray you- one of my oldest and closest friends," he swallowed, "but I still know you," the Lost Boy paused, then said again, "You were trying to protect her, Peter, and now you want her to come back with us."

Pan said nothing. He already felt terribly weak about the situation, and he couldn't help but wonder that if Slightly could see this, could everyone see it? Did everyone know what he wanted with the Bird, what he'd had with her? Was it so very obvious? And if it was, how did he change that? He could push her away, of course. Mock her. He knew her, and he knew how to break her…

Though Slightly had a point. Breaking her would not accomplish his aims. Idly, Peter's mind drifted back to a fairy ball, one so long ago. He had danced with Wendy among the stars, and he had- she had, he meant, he meant she had –liked it. Then he sighed in resignation, and Slightly grinned.

---

Despite his success in the decidedly mortal room of school, Peter was always excited when the magical realm crossed his path. On breaks he often went to Kensington Gardens, but while at school he always looked forward to Tink's occasional visits.

One night, the fairy alit at his window. Three small taps announced her arrival. Excitedly, Peter jumped out of his bed, racing towards her. Quickly, he pulled the window upward, allowing her to fly in. The fairy did so, her wings sending a soft swish of air by his cheek. Then she landed on his bedside table, her hands clasped under her chin.

"Peter!" Tink squealed, "I'm so proud of you! I haven't been able to say much, but I've been listening to everything, and let me tell you, the fairy court goes to every polo game-"

"Really?" the boy asked, pleased to know the fairies were seeing his success.

"Yes! It's become a huge social event. Titania goes to watch you play, and of course the court goes with Titania, and whenever you win they have a massive ball in your honor. She told me you made captain!"

"I did," Peter grinned cockily, "Are you really surprised, Tink?" He raised one eyebrow, and the fairy giggled:

"Of course not. Doesn't mean I can't be proud!" she winked at him, and he couldn't help but smile at her as he conceded:

"No, it doesn't." Still, her words gnawed at Peter. So many were proud of him, but for every achievement of his, he knew he could expect a beating when he next went home. He hated it, he hated his father, and he desperately wanted an out.

"Tink," Peter queried, "Do you think Titania could help me? With my father? I know she said Eton would keep me away from him, but in a way, it's made it worse. Whenever I'm home, he hits me more, and," he grimaced, "he hits me harder. Do you think now...she might be willing to do more?"

At the question, Tink's smile faded. Peter had previously confided in her about how Lord Ponsoby beat his son. She'd done her best to check on him and try to stay the beatings, but Mab made it almost impossible for her to leave training. Nevertheless, on more than one occasion, it had been Tinkerbell herself who healed his wounds. Tinkerbell had spoken to the fairy queen about Lord Ponsoby's treatment of his son, but Queen Titania had been adamant that Peter continue to remain with his family. The queen repeated her original assertion that Peter had a great destiny; a privileged destiny as a ruler; and he needed to be in a position to obtain it. Apparently, that required staying in the household of his abusive- yet noble -father. Tinkerbell didn't understand it, but it wasn't her place to question Queen Titania.

The fairy said carefully, "I don't know. It depends. I've talked to her before, Peter-"

The boy smiled, "You're a good friend, Tink."

Tinkerbell smiled back, "So are you. But don't thank me too much yet," she bit her lip, "Every time I talk to her, she keeps saying about how you're going to be a ruler."

Peter rolled his eyes, "I don't see why I have to be beaten to within an inch of my life to be a ruler!" His tone was sarcastic, but there was genuine pain and confusion behind it.

The fairy sighed, "I don't either. But that's what Titania's fixated on: you ruling."

The boy frowned, "But she didn't say where I had to rule..."

"Peter..." Tink warned. She was hoping this conversation wasn't going where she thought it was. She didn't know if she could lie to Peter, let alone if her conscience would let her.

Peter answered, "I saw you that night, Tink. When I first asked Oberon and Titania about traveling to another world, they said I couldn't go. You made a face, and Oberon glared at you."

Despite herself, Tink couldn't help but laugh, "Nothing gets by you, does it?" It seemed to be another characteristic of his. Had he been anyone else, it might have unnerved her, but she trusted Peter.

"No," Peter replied, completely serious.

"Look, Oberon and Titania weren't lying. Not completely," Tink amended, "It is forbidden for humans to travel to another world from Faerie. However, your human tales are correct: humans can go to Faerie. There just haven't been any in a while. Too many troublemakers." Tink teased, trying to lighten the mood. The boy granted her a small smile, but there wasn't any light in it:

"I wouldn't cause trouble. I have no desire to steal Oberon and Titania's throne. I've accepted my destiny: I want my own."

Not entirely surprised, the fairy inquired, "What are you thinking, Peter? I know that face."

"You confirmed what I suspected, which is that humans aren't confined to the world of their birth. If I'm to be a ruler," he mused, "why not be a ruler of my own world?"

Tink's eyes widened, "Peter, you can't just go to another world and take over it. They already have their own governments and customs. It wouldn't be right to conquer it."

"Of course not," Peter agreed amiably, "That's why I would create one."

"Create one?" the fairy gasped, "What are you talking about? You're not a god, Peter. That's impossible."

"Tink, I've seen many impossible things. I made myself see impossible things. I was three years old and I wished to see fairies and I did. I don't see why I can't make myself do impossible things."

"Peter, you know I love you, and you know I'll support you through anything, but don't you see this is madness? It can't work."

"It will work," Peter said easily, "I'll make it work."

Tink shook her head, "You're serious?"

"Very."

Tink sighed, running a hand through her hair, "Fine. But you're talking to Titania about this. Not me."

Peter nodded, "The next break."

Under his breath, he repeated, "It will work."

Tink shivered at his words. Nevertheless, he seemed ignorant of her reaction, and when break came, he approached Kensington Gardens with a determination that surprised even her.

The night was cool, which was characteristic of early spring. Flowers had not yet begun to bloom, but the faintest of green stems could be seen popping through the ground. Nevertheless, the weather was still in a state of stasis, as if the very earth itself was frozen and waiting for something to happen.

Peter thought it was appropriate.

As he made his way to the fountain where the fairies kept the center of their court, the fairies flew up to greet him:

"Well met, Peter!"

"How are you?"

"We saw the match! You played wonderfully!"

Peter smiled and thanked them- he had an affection for them, overall –but it was Titania who he was looking for. Perhaps the queen knew that this time would come, because she met his gaze with a sort of weary resignation:

"Good evening, Peter."

"Good evening, Your Majesty," boldly, he said, "I'm sure you know why I'm here."

"I do. You are no longer content to wait until you leave Eton to get out of your father's house, it seems."

"I won't wait any longer, Your Majesty. I refuse. I'm exhausted about being beaten for doing well. I will be the best, wherever I go, but I won't let my father continue to punish me for it. Let me go to your world. Please, Your Majesty. I can handle many things, but I can't bear this anymore."

"Peter-" the queen started, but her words were cut off as Peter turned his back to her and the other fairies. He didn't bother to remove his shirt- there was no need. His shirt, which was once a simple white button down, was covered in red. The fabric was wrinkled up against his back, the liquid causing it to stick together. Red liquid dripped freely from the bottom of the shirt. It was only Tink's glamour that had caused him from being questioned by the police officers who roamed the streets.

"I refuse," Peter said flatly, ignoring the fairies' horrified gasps, "to be beaten for being the best, and I request passage to your world."

At this, Titania immediately replied, "Peter, we have told you, we cannot let you go to Faerie. The prophecy says you are to be a ruler, and Oberon and I rule Faerie."

"I'm not asking to rule Faerie," Peter asserted, "just to travel there."

"I'm sorry, Peter. I won't fight fate. You cannot come to Faerie," Titania said definitively, wringing her hands slightly. It was the only indication of her nervousness, but Tinkerbell noticed it. Tink, for her part, did her best to hide her own nerves as Peter played his trump card:

"If I can't go to your world," Peter declared, "then let me make my own!"

"What?" the queen said incredulously.

"Let me make my own," Peter grit his teeth, "Don't you see? This fits my destiny. I'll make my own world, and I will be its ruler! I'll be safe from my father, and I will satisfy that fate you see for me!"

"Peter," Titania said cautiously, "You can't just...create a world!" She looked to her husband for support, but Oberon was silent as he observed the exchange. The king was deep in thought. Tink wondered what he thought of Peter's decidedly outlandish proposition.

"Why not?" Peter asked, "You tell me new worlds appear, new dimensions are created all the time. New pathways open in Faerie."

"Yes, but they are naturally made. You can't artificially make a world!" Titania said, though at this point, she sounded more as if she was trying to convince herself than him.

"Yes, I can!" Peter asserted, "I can do it! You know I can! I'm not like the others! That's why you chose to be my fairy godmother in the first place! Even as a child, I wished for things, and they happened! Your Majesty, I wish for this, and as my fairy godmother, you're bound to help me! You are queen of all the fairies, and your power supersedes them all! If my wish is combined with your powers...I know I can make a new world! I know it!"

"Peter-" Titania protested, but Peter didn't let her finish.

"I've abided by your rules for years!" he said, "I've done what you said! And still, nothing's changed! I can't do this anymore! I won't! Titania, I call on you to help me! Truly. Finally. Help me."

The queen sighed. Despite herself, she did feel guilty for leaving Peter in such a horrible situation over the years. But she had thought she was following destiny. His proposal was outlandish, but he was right: if he created his own world, he would be its ruler. She had no doubt he was right in something else- he was unlike any human she'd ever met. He very well could create a new world. He never doubted himself; his confidence was limitless. From the moment she'd met him, he had clearly had something no one else did. She glanced at Oberon, and gravely, the king nodded his assent.

"Peter," she said, "If we do this...it's very dangerous."

"I'll do anything!" he promised.

"As I told you, this world will be artificial. It will be sustained by magic, and it will be unlike any other world in existence. You will be tied to this world, forever, if you wish it into being. You will never die," Titania said gravely.

"Immortality doesn't sound all that bad," Peter shrugged.

"You will also gain the power to travel between realms, but you must always return to your new world."

"Fine. I've got no interest in staying here."

"Lastly...if we are to give you this, you must give us something else in exchange."

"Anything."

"It will be your duty to help others like yourself. You will travel from realm to realm, helping those in dire need. Help them to defend themselves, or bring them to your world with you. You will spend your entire existence doing these things, and if you do this, if you continue to help those who are lost, your world will be sustained. Can you do this, Peter?"

"Of course," he said, "I never fail."

---

The night before the dance, Wendy was seated on the couch in her living room. Her math homework was strewn on the coffee table, but she hadn't looked at it for hours. She'd been lost in thought about who she should go as for the Halloween dance, or if she should go. On the one hand, Grace was right. It would be good for her to get out of the house. On the other, Wendy couldn't get Ferdinand's face out of her mind- she imagined he would have been terrified, when Peter had given the order to kill him, and Peter would have been positively gleeful-

Just then, a knock came at her door. Wary- Felix stood guard outside, and surely would have sent most people away at this hour –Wendy walked to the front door, peering through the peephole. When she saw who was waiting (bizarrely, for he never waited), she bit her lip, and swung it open.

Peter strode into her living room, "I have to talk to you." Wendy rolled her eyes, shutting the door behind him.

"What, Peter? What can you possibly want now?" Her tone was scathing. They hadn't spoken since he'd kissed her the other night.

He opened his mouth, but still smarting, she cut him off, "Tell me, Peter. What story can you come up with that will possibly explain everything you've done?" she sat down on a chair, "Go on, tell me."

Peter stared at her for a long while. Under his gaze, she felt her anger wither. He was acting utterly unlike himself. He was always confident and cocky, and he almost always had a response. He was obviously warring with himself, but he finally came to a decision to go through with his original intention. So it was that he admitted:

"My father hated me. Despised me, in fact. I was gifted at everything he wasn't. He might have been a powerful earl, but he was an ugly, bumbling, idiot-" Wendy's eyes widened. This was not where she had expected him to go. Was he really telling her about his past? Was he truly explaining who Peter Ponsoby had been, before he was the magnificent, immortal Peter Pan?

"Peter," Wendy chided him softly, unable to stomach hearing him disparage his father (for oh, she so missed her own, and she couldn't imagine saying anything bad about him), but he shot her a glare:

"You wanted me to tell you a story," he retorted, "and you will listen." His eyes were alit with the eerie fire that sometimes came over him in his darker moods, and she knew better than to test him now. So it was that she simply pulled the blanket closer over her legs as she let him pace before her.

"People respected him for his money and his title, but the papers all talked about me. I received top marks at Eton- my teachers often said I was brighter than the Prince of Wales himself, though of course they could never tell the royals that. Captain of the polo and cricket teams. I won the championship match against Harrow. I was a legend at Eton, and there were trophies covered in my name.

"My father had nothing. We were so very different, me, the handsome, vivacious son, him the backwards and awkward father- many people began to think he wasn't my father at all. How, after all, could he father someone as brilliant as me?"

Despite saying that Wendy shouldn't comment until he was finished, he looked at Wendy expectantly. She said nothing, merely digesting his words. Peter often liked to discuss his general prowess, his greatness over other boys, but something in this was different. It wasn't just the usual crowing of his ego.

"My father wondered the same thing," Peter continued. He turned away from her, instead looking into the fireplace. Firelight flickered against his skin, making him seem almost demonic as he added:

"Oh, he never would say it out loud. But it haunted him all the same- was I his son? My mother, you see, was supposed to marry his younger brother. But her family pushed for her to make the better match, and to marry him. Still, I think he was always terrified my mother had sought out my uncle for one night of passion, and the result of that betrayal was me. Still, he could never hurt her; she was a woman. So instead, he hurt me." He cast his gaze down to one of his hands, flexing his fingers absentmindedly.

"He beat me for years. It started when I was a child and it continued until I went to Neverland. He hit me with anything- his fists, his belt, a cane-"

"Peter-" Wendy interrupted again, this time with a shred of horror in her voice. He held up a hand to quiet her:

"My father tried to take his feelings of shame and inadequacy out on me. It didn't matter to him whether or not I was his son- if I wasn't, he had only a bastard as an heir, and if I was, I outshone him in every way."

"Well...were you-" Wendy asked timidly. Peter's eyes flicked to her, and she immediately quieted. Still, Peter knew his Bird, and so he satisfied her curiosity:

"Yes, I was his son," Peter frowned, "My mother wouldn't dare commit adultery, despite her feelings for my uncle. I think that made it worse, because I was everything my father never could be. Still," at this, a hint of his familiar smirk appeared, "I wouldn't give in. I wouldn't give up. I never would. Every time he hit me, I swore to myself I would be even better. I would be greater. I would be the best anyone had ever seen."

Wendy sat, unsure what to make of these revelations. Peter's obsession with being the best wasn't just born of cockiness. Rather, it was a deep-seated need to defy everything his father had tried to take from him. To Peter, every win, every victory, every success was a sort of emotional balm, payment for the horrors inflicted on him as a child. It wasn't simply a desire to be superior to everyone- it was a vow to be superior to his father as a person.

Though, Wendy supposed, Peter would hate if she spoke those words aloud- that despite his faults, she thought Peter a better man than his father.

"What of your mother?" she said at last. Peter had spent quite a bit of time extrapolating on his history with his father, but he hadn't said much of his mother.

"Surely she protected you," Wendy added. At Peter's stony silence, her heart began to pound, "Surely she did something."

For a long moment, Peter said nothing. Then he pulled off his shirt of leaves and showed her his back. It was crisscrossed with angry red scars, so many, in fact, that there was barely any unmarked skin left.

Despite herself, Wendy gasped. Slowly, she stood, then lifted trembling hands to the scars. Most of them were still raised, and he shivered under her touch.

"My mother," Peter spat, "stood by and let this happen to me. Over and over again. This is why I never wanted mothers and fathers in Neverland. This is why I never wanted to grow up- why no one could grow up in Neverland. I didn't want to turn into the monster that all adults were- that adults are."

"Why didn't you heal yourself when you got to the island?" Wendy asked. Abruptly, he jerked away from her, then replaced his shirt, sliding the scars out of view.

"I kept them as a reminder of what growing up does to you."

"You never told me," Wendy said softly.

Peter raised an eyebrow, "You never asked."

"I never saw them," Wendy said, "even when we-" she paused, blushing, "even when I should have."

"I kept the scars for myself, and myself alone," Peter said, "I didn't heal them, but I hid them from everyone, not just you."

"You should have said something," Wendy whispered.

"Why?" Peter inquired. He came closer to her, green eyes locking onto her own blue. "You just should have," Wendy replied at last.

"Would it have made a difference?" the boy asked, "You hated me, Wendy. Well," he shrugged, "when you came back, you did. You told me so often-"

"I didn't hate you," Wendy protested, "I hated what you did. The horrible lengths you were willing to go to save Neverland, though now," she bit her lip, "Now, I suppose I understand it."

Peter gazed at her curiously, "Do you, Bird?"

"You made Neverland your kingdom," Wendy stated, "but it started as your refuge. That's what it always was, wasn't it? Your refuge. And then you made it a safe haven for boys like you."

"No boy is like me," Peter said automatically. Despite herself, Wendy cracked a smile:

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Let me rephrase: boys who had been wronged. You took them to Neverland to save them, and then, when the island began to die..." she sucked in a breath, "It wasn't about losing a place to rule. It was about losing safety."

Pan nodded, "The fairies helped me create Neverland. In doing so, they also made a deal with me that I had to help souls who suffered like me. I made a vow I would. I will keep that vow, no matter the cost," he paused, "The sacrifice of one heart is worth the salvation of hundreds." At this declaration, he seemed to come out of his reverie, and he inquired, narrowing his eyes, "Don't you agree, Darling?"

Wendy didn't know what to say. She was so stunned by his revelations that she couldn't even begin to process what was occurring: Peter Pan was being honest with her. He had never outright lied to her- excluding the day they'd made their agreement on Skull Rock -but he never had shared everything, either. Peter was a strange boy who seemed to constantly give and take with her. Every time she thought she had a grasp of his character, he did something to turn her assumptions on their head. He pretended to be so inhuman, and sometimes he was, and she couldn't forgive the bloodlust that had corrupted him and made him inhuman.

But maybe he had been human- once upon a time.

---

The following evening was the night of the dance, and despite her better judgment, Wendy had allowed Grace and Gretel to convince her to go. It didn't matter if she didn't have a date anymore, they said. She shouldn't sit at home, cooped up in that big house at the edge of town. She spent most of her nights doing that. She should have fun, especially since Peter and the Savior had apparently come to an agreement to extend the curfew tonight.

So she'd let them come over and fuss over her. They'd sat and curled her hair, chattering about their own dates. Both girls were already dressed in the costumes- Alice in Wonderland and the Red Queen. Grace had smeared body glitter all over herself- she thought it would make her look sexier in the dark gym -while Gretel had gone for smoky eyes (which Tink had giggled at- Gretel had zero idea how to do makeup). Their talk was like that of flies, buzzing by Wendy's ears. She, meanwhile, sat on a stool in front of the floor length mirror that served as her vanity. She couldn't help but stare at herself. Her white nightgown- familiar garb for so many years -once again graced her skin. It wasn't pristine anymore (fleeing Neverland had discolored it a bit), but the lace pattern was still beautiful. It reminded her of home.

Peter's words had stuck in her head, and so for this one night, she would again be Wendy Darling, as Wendy Darling had been so long ago. Hopeful, sweet, innocent- full of bright imagination. Yet there were some discrepancies- her nightgown was a bit too short for her (she'd grown here), and her lips were too red, her cheeks too blushed to be those of a young girl. Her hair, albeit still a brunette so light it was almost a honey gold, was much longer, nearly halfway down her back.

Nevertheless, anyone would know her as Wendy Darling. And perhaps, Wendy thought, that was a good thing.

As they entered the darkened gym, Wendy looked around, taking it all in. Although the entire room was nearly pitch-black, it was also lit up in a frenzy of bright colored lights. Reds, blues, greens, and yellows- their source seemed to be little black balls that had been attached to the ceiling, controlled by the DJ who was selecting loud, songs with harsh beats she didn't recognize. A few adults patrolled the room. Emma, Hook, and awkwardly enough, Baelfire, though like her, he'd too selected a new name and wished to be known as Neal. He didn't seem particularly thrilled about the relationship that had sprung up between Emma and Hook in his absence, but Wendy knew Bae well-enough to realize he still felt horribly guilty for what he'd done to Emma, and if Hook made her happy...it might kill him inside (and she suspected it did, for she never saw him and his old lover in the same room), but he would stand aside. Belle stood, hands clasped before her in the corner. She was dressed all in bright sparkling gold as a fairy, and seemed entranced (if a little confused) by the proceedings. Her husband, Rumplestiltskin, stood next to her, looking decidedly less thrilled to be there. Nevertheless, he'd seemingly acquiesced to her wishes and sported a blue suit.

Most of the gym, though, was filled with students. Everyone was covered in masks and bright costumes, sequins sparkling in the rolling lights. Grace and Gretel spotted their dates and squealed. Grace made a beeline for Chris, who bizarrely, seemed to have chosen to be a zombie. Yet there was no mistaking his sharp teeth as he smiled at her. Gretel blushed upon greeting Jeff, who had dressed as a character Wendy recognized as Zorro.

"Typical," Tink huffed, rolling her eyes. She had chosen to go as a sexy pirate- one of the last outfits left in the costume shop when she'd poked her head in earlier that day. It wouldn't have been her choice, but she'd had few options, and she wasn't going to miss out on a rare night outside the house. She ignored Wendy's glare of disapproval- despite everything, Wendy was keen to support her silly friends, and consequently followed after them –and swept her gaze around the room. It was an old habit from many years ago- she couldn't stop surveying her surroundings for danger. The students, of course, were completely harmless, dancing and blathering and screaming with excitement once they found their friends. But amongst them, there were, if she wasn't mistaken, boys lurking in the shadows, observing the proceedings. They couldn't be here. Not tonight. Not here. Why here?

And worse, if they were here, then so was-

As the figure slunk out of the darkness and approached her, Tink's breath caught in her throat. She would know that silhouette anywhere.

"Felix," she breathed out his name in a whisper. The Lost Boy didn't say anything, and merely slid his arms around her waist. He looked down at her, eyes obscured beneath his hood- he would choose to wear it again -while she was acutely aware a swirl of emotions must have been easily visible in her own. As if of their own accord, her arms seemed to find their way around his shoulders, and he started to sway.

"You're dancing," she commented, mostly for lack of anything else to say.

"I am," he agreed.

"With me," Tink said, as though she were reminding him of their relationship (or lack thereof).

"With you," the Lost Boy nodded once.

"But...why?" Tink asked, "You hate me." After everything she'd done to him, he had to hate her. Before Regina had taken his heart, he'd flat out told her Pan would never forgive her. The unspoken second half of that statement was that neither would he. Besides, he'd made his feelings on the subject abundantly clear when he'd dragged her back to the house the day she was hungover, and he'd left her on the couch without so much as a goodbye. Wendy, of all people, had to take her to bed. She was brought out of her thoughts by Felix's chuckle:

"I don't hate you, Tink."

"Then...what-" her astonished question was cut off as he leaned down to whisper in her ear:

"Pan says he's willing to give you a second chance," he paused, "and so am I."

Under any other circumstances, Tink would have been suspicious- he'd told her Pan never would forgive her, and she knew Peter. He might forgive some, but he would have taken her betrayal particularly hard. Pan wouldn't bring her back with them to Neverland; she knew that; worse, she knew she could never be with Felix, and that he would forgive her...but with the lights down and her in his arms and him looking at her like that...it was so hard. She didn't care about Pan anymore, she decided, but oh God, she had missed Felix. If she could be with him again...

Could she kill Henry? Stand by while that happened?

She didn't think so. She wanted to help. Fairies didn't hurt, or kill.

But if for one night, Felix wanted her again...

"Outside," she whispered to him, then grabbed his hand and led him out a side entrance.

---

It was odd, dancing with Peter here. It didn't seem right- it seemed almost cheap, with the stars replaced by strobe lights and soft fairy music replaced by what Gretel called "contemporary."

"You look like the Wendy Darling I remember," Peter observed.

"Thank you," she replied, recognizing that from him, that was a compliment.

The music swelled, and he held her eyes for a second too long. Then, suddenly, his lips claimed hers and she felt like she was going to melt into him. What was wrong with her? He'd killed his friends- her friends, too -wanted to kill an innocent boy, had kept her prisoner, and murdered her date. She should hate him. She should despise him, but here she was, falling into his arms like she belonged there.

Admittedly, Peter had always felt she did, but that was beside the point.

Simultaneously, she was in heaven and hell, in exultation and hatred. He was kissing her, he had started it, but was he playing with her again? God, why did she care? Why couldn't she just be normal-

It was somewhere in the middle of that thought that she realized they'd stopped swaying. She looked down and gasped. It wasn't very far, but it was clearly obvious they were floating a few inches off the floor.

Peter followed her gaze, a small smirk appearing on his face, "Happy thoughts?" She was blindsided when he kissed her again, and her thoughts seemed to all come together after that in a vague cluster.

---

Tinkerbell dragged Felix outside. Then she started kissing him. Instantly, his arms slid around her, and he pushed her into the brick wall. She was fairly certain part of her costume had torn, but she didn't give a damn at that moment. She was with Felix, and he was kissing her, and it was so, so perfect. She grabbed fistfuls of his blonde hair and brought him down so he could kiss her harder, and he moaned slightly into her mouth. Then he hitched his arms underneath her legs, pulling her upwards so her legs were wrapped tightly around his hips. This time, it was her who moaned:

"Felix," she whispered, and she stared into his gray eyes. They flashed with fire, and she felt a shiver go up her spine. He ran the fingers of his right hand through her hair, then yanked the elastic that held her bun in place out. Her hair tumbled out in golden waves, and idly, she couldn't help but notice the gesture. She looked at him questioningly, and he breathed:

"I've never seen your hair down 'til the other day. I liked it."

"God, I wish this was really you talking," Tink muttered. Before Felix had a chance to reply, she pulled his lips onto her own again. He responded eagerly, and moved even closer to her than she thought possible. His hands returned to her legs, fingers questioning and exploring as they moved up her thighs. She gasped- his every touch felt like electric shocks.

A part of her kept reminding herself that Regina was controlling him, and this was perverse, and wrong on so many levels-

But the other part, of her, the bigger part of her, was choosing to ignore that. She would never get a chance to do this with him again. And maybe Regina was distracted; she had to be chaperoning, after all. She couldn't be controlling Felix's every move. When the holder of a heart wasn't actively focused on them, the person whose heart it was had some freedom to act on their own.

Or at least Tink thought that was true, and she decided to cling to it.

"I have missed you," Felix breathed, "so fucking much." Tink immediately stopped kissing him- she'd never heard him swear, ever. Still, he was looking at her earnestly, and she decided to go with it:

"I've missed you too. Now can you just make up for lost time here, shut up, and fucking kiss me?"

Felix grinned at her choice of language, but obliged, almost overwhelming her with the strength of his kisses. He pressed her closer against the wall, and she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist. He groaned into her ear, and she shivered, though she was fairly certain she was pleased by his reaction.

Oh, and judging from the path of his fingers, she was definitely pleased where he was going. She moaned, swiping her tongue across his lower lip, then began to run her hands across his body- from his hair to his shoulders to across his chest, where she could clearly feel his heart pounding through his shirt-

"Wait," Tink said abruptly. She pulled away from him, gazing into his eyes. It took him a few seconds to stop looking dazed, but once he noticed how out of sorts she seemed, he immediately began to apologize:

"I'm sorry, Tink. I didn't mean to- I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he was stumbling over his words, blushing like a boy with his first crush, "God, I'm sorry. I got carried away-" He immediately released her, gently removing her legs from around his waist before softly placing his hands on her hips and carefully lowering her to the ground. He stepped backwards, running a hand through his hair, obviously flustered, repentant, and concerned.

"Felix," Tink said, "I could feel your heart." She couldn't begin to process what that meant.

"Regina took your heart," Tink continued, "I know she did. How is this possible? I mean, I asked Pan, but he never said anything, and you never said anything-"

"Tink," Felix grabbed her hands, "Yes, Regina took my heart, and yes Pan got it back. It only happened a few hours ago. I didn't realize you knew."

"Of course I knew!" she nearly snapped at him, "I know you, Felix! I don't know how much you remember, but we had a conversation where you talked about us going back to 'our' Neverland! You never would have said that...a week ago you told me Pan would never have me back. You're loyal to him, above everything-"

"Tink, calm down. Please," Felix said. It was the emotion in his voice, more than anything else, that got through to her.

"So it's you," she said, tears filling her eyes, "It's really you."

"Yes," he affirmed.

"And you really want me," the fairy stated, hardly believing her ears.

"Yes," Felix repeated.

"So," Tinkerbell trailed off, utterly confused as to what would happen to them, "What now?" She wanted to be with him. She knew that. And she hoped that what he said- that he wanted to be with her –was true. But that couldn't occur, not unless she believed that Pan was somehow willing (and could he really be willing, she wondered?) to allow them both to be together.

Felix squeezed her hand lightly, aware of the weight of her question. Nevertheless, he chose not to answer it now. Instead, he replied:

"This." Then he kissed her again.

---

Back inside the gym, Slightly spotted a rather forlorn Gretel standing against the wall. Although she was dressed as the Red Queen, the short skirt spangled with sequins, she looked relatively sad. He was supposed to be patrolling with the other Lost Boys, but he couldn't help but stop to talk to her. Besides, it wasn't like there weren't a dozen others roaming the gym.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she greeted him, though her eyes weren't on him. He followed her gaze, where he saw a boy dressed all in black and a strange hat hat chatting to a girl dressed as a ballerina.

Slightly already guessed at the answer, but he couldn't help but ask, "Are you okay?"

"Not really," Gretel admitted. Then she finally turned to look at him, and she asked, confused:

"Who are you supposed to be?"

"Me," Slightly answered. He wore his old Neverland attire, with a strip of black leather over one shoulder and some ripped black cloth over the other. A good portion of his chest was exposed, and he was rather lucky none of the adults had sent him home. He typically also wore a hat, but he'd discarded it for the evening.

Gretel seemed a little taken aback by this response, but then, he mused, she seemed taken aback by him in general. At the moment, she looked as though she couldn't decide whether she was puzzled or intrigued.

"What about you?" Slightly asked, trying to distract her from her obvious sadness.

"The Red Queen," Gretel replied, before looking back in the direction of the boy dressed in black.

"You look very pretty," Slightly told her. He had been brought up in an age where girls wore ballgowns, and he knew that it was always customary for a well-brought up man to tell a girl she looked lovely at such occasions.

"I don't feel like it," Gretel sighed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her arms were crossed before her chest, as though she was trying to hug herself.

"Why not?" Slightly asked, "I've met the Red Queen before. She was beautiful."

"Really?" Gretel asked, though she sounded doubtful, "How?"

"Peter can travel between worlds. Sometimes we went with him. We were called upon to fight for another queen of Wonderland," Slightly gave Gretel a small smile, "but that didn't exactly go according to plan. Anyway, I met the Red Queen afterwards. She was very powerful, very proud, and very beautiful."

"Well," the girl said sadly, "I bet she didn't have her lover leave her."

The Lost Boy paused, then noted, "Actually, she seemed like she was in a loveless marriage. One thing you can say about Wonderlanders is that they love their rumors, and they whispered that she originally had another lover before she married. I like to think that her true love is still out there, and maybe she's just with the wrong guy."

There was a long silence between them. At last, Gretel stated:

"You're a strange boy."

Slightly grinned, recalling their lunch conversation, "No stranger than you." As she returned his smile he added, "Want to dance?" He held out a hand to her, unable to forget his formal upbringing.

"Yeah," Gretel took his hand, her smile growing wider, this time focusing on him. For now, it seemed, she had decided to orget the boy in black.

As Slightly led her to the dance floor, he added, "And by the way, anyone can be a ballerina, but not everyone can be a queen." With that, he placed one hand around her waist, taking the other in his own, and began to waltz with her.

---

Wendy still couldn't quite believe what was happening. She had kissed Peter. Willingly. And he'd kissed her back. And it seemed, in a very strange way, like the fantasy a young Wendy Darling had once had- of her and the gallant Peter Pan dancing together at a ball- though admittedly, Wendy's idea of a ball hadn't quite been a dance in a school gym. But maybe it was that which finally broke the spell, that this, even in its own way,was a fantasy. The lights from the spinning balls covered Peter's face and flashed in her eyes, and they were lights from a time period much later than she should have been alive. The music wasn't a soft orchestra, but a pounding beat. Her gown wasn't long and elegant, but a nightgown tattered by the years this boy had stolen from her. Her smile faded, and Peter raised an eyebrow as they floated back to the ground.

"Bird, are you all right?"

She didn't have a chance to answer his question as her phone buzzed in her pocket. "I'll be right back," she informed him, gripping her cell in her hands as she made her way to outside the front of the building to take the call. She could feel Peter's eyes on her as she left, but that was hardly anything new. As the doors to the gym swung shut behind her, she picked up the phone:

"Hello?"

"Wendy!" John's voice was frantic on the line.

"John?" the girl asked, frightened by his tone, "What happened? What's wrong?" Surely Peter can't have done anything. He seemed happy enough a few minutes ago. Even he couldn't have done anything that quickly…

"Michael's in jail!" her brother gasped out.

"What?" Wendy said, completely incredulous, "John, that's ridiculous. What are you talking about?" She held the one closer to her ear, certain she had misheard.

"About five minutes ago Emma and Regina came and picked up Michael in handcuffs! I asked them what was going on, but they didn't say anything- just that he was going to be taken to jail!"

"He can't be taken to jail with no cause," Wendy reasoned, trying to calm her panicking heart.

"Well, he was," John said miserably, "and I'm coming to get you."

"They won't arrest me," Wendy asserted, though she wasn't sure whether she was trying to convince John or herself. Despite herself, she looked back at the gym, checking to see if anyone was coming after her.

"I don't know if they will or not," John replied grimly, "but I'm picking you up, and we're going to try to outmaneuver the sheriff." With a squeal, John's car quickly pulled in front of the gym, stopping directly before Wendy. She immediately got in the car, strapping herself into her seatbelt and snapping her phone shut.

"And how are we going to do that?" the girl asked, her heart still pounding in her ears.

"You're going to talk to Regina," John said, stepping on the gas, "You babysit her son. He likes you, and her son is her weakness. If you can use that connection to convince Regina of Michael's innocence, Regina will issue an official pardon. As mayor of Storybrooke, that outranks any arrest Emma makes as a sheriff."

"John," Wendy stated dubiously, "I don't think Regina likes me." Actually, I think she hates me.

Oblivious to her inner turmoil, John commanded, "Okay, call Henry first. Ask him to intervene while we go talk to Regina." At Wendy's silence, John's tone softened a bit, "Wendy, he's our brother. We can't leave him there. I won't let us be separated again. I won't."

"I know," Wendy whispered, then vowed, "and neither will I."

---

Slightly was still dancing with Gretel- though now she was trying to teach him how to dance slightly faster, and it wasn't quite working –when her phone went off.

"One sec," she told him, slipping it out of a hidden pocket in her skirt. She held up the phone, and her face scrunched up in confusion.

"What is it?" Slightly asked. She held up the phone for him to see a group text message between her, Wendy, and Grace:

WENDY: Hey guys. Wanted to let you know I'm okay. I just had to go with John and check on Michael.

GRACE: Y? Ur brothers are adults lol. They can take care of themselves

WENDY: Emma apparently put Michael in jail (?) John and I are going to get him out. I'm going to talk to Regina and figure out what's going on.

As Slightly finished reading the text, he swore under his breath, then murmured, "We need to find Pan. Right now."

---

When they pulled up to the sheriff's station, Wendy and John practically jumped out of the car. Wendy, still in her nightgown, ran into the room containing the station's sole jail cell, where a stone-faced Michael sat with his head in his hands. Emma had her arms crossed as she stood in front of her desk, but didn't say anything as the remaining two Darlings approached the cell. If looks could kill, however, Regina's would have murdered them all immediately.

"Regina!" Wendy addressed Regina directly, "Michael hasn't done anything wrong! All he does is work and spend time with John! He's been imprisoned unfairly! And I know maybe you did this before," at Regina's narrowed eyes, Wendy quickly amended, "but I know you're trying to become a hero, and heroes don't lock people up unjustly. Henry believes you can be a hero, and so do I. This is a step to you becoming a hero. Let Michael go."

After what seemed like forever to Wendy, but was probably only a minute, Regina shrugged, "Your argument is persuasive, Miss Darling. I'm afraid I'm going to have to overturn your arrest, Miss Swan. Release him." She waved her hand nonchalantly, and a solemn Emma sighed, then walked to the cell, took out her keys, and unlocked the door. Wendy ran forward to hug Michael, but to her shock, he dodged her embrace and rushed out of the cell, leaving Wendy alone and perplexed in the middle of the cell. Then he slammed the door shut.

"Michael!" Wendy asked, "John! What are you doing!?" Her eyes darted back and forth from brother to brother.

"You were seen kissing Peter Pan this evening, Miss Darling," Regina answered for them, "and not unwillingly. I'm afraid I can't risk my son's safety for a little romantic dalliance of yours."

Emma had the grace to appear slightly more contrite as she noted, "Wendy, I remember that you helped us escape Neverland, and I don't think you would hurt Henry on purpose, but it seems like Peter has some sort of hold on you. I don't blame you for it, but Regina's right. We can't risk you going to his side."

"But you can't keep me locked up in here!" Wendy insisted, growing angrier and angrier the more she thought about it.

"Actually, we can," Regina said, sounding entirely too pleased with herself, "Pan's agreement says we can't imprison the Lost Boys, and you, Miss Darling, are not a Lost Boy."

"John? Michael? You can't have agreed to this," Wendy said, in complete disbelief, though she knew from their devastated faces that they had.

"Wendy," Michael said tiredly, "We had to. When Regina called us, we realized things were getting worse. We need to keep you safe from Pan."

"This? This is supposed to keep me safe?"

"It's for your own protection," Emma said softly, "and you'll be freed as soon as we can figure out how to defeat Pan." She was the only one out of the four adults that seemed genuinely sorry about the situation. Regina seemed triumphant that Wendy had finally been locked up- she'd always been suspicious of the girl, having been found at the scene of so many murders –and John and Michael seemed resigned, but determined.

Accusingly, Wendy glared at her brothers, "I can't believe you did this."

"We don't want to lose you again," John said, somewhat pleadingly, "and we knew when Regina called we were going to lose you." They remembered how sad their sister was when she first returned from Neverland, and even though their mother thought Wendy's sadness had had to do with Bae's departure, the brothers had guessed at its true nature. They were well-aware of Wendy's original feelings for Peter, and suspected they were influencing her now.

"You don't trust me," Wendy said wonderingly. She couldn't fathom it- her own brothers had betrayed her, and without much remorse.

"No, we don't trust him," Michael countered.

Their sibling dispute was interrupted by a tap on the window. Then a piece of paper slid through the barely-there crack and fluttered to the floor at Emma's feet. Perturbed, she picked it up and read aloud, eyebrows furrowed:

"'The sky looks lovely outside your father's tomb.'"

Regina snatched the missive out of Emma's hand, "What does that mean?"

Wendy, who was well-versed in such notes, replied, "It means that Pan is waiting for you." She glared at the four adults, most particularly Regina. She didn't approve of Peter's methods- and God knew what he was planning –but a rather spiteful part of her was slightly vindicated that he'd somehow, already, managed to exact some sort of trap for them. Her conscience tried to beat that part down, but it was hard to reduce her fury when she remembered her own brothers had lied to her and trapped her in jail.

"Well then," Emma declared, "Let's not keep him waiting. John, you stay here with Wendy. We're going to meet Pan."

---

Emma had immediately called her parents, her current boyfriend, and her ex-boyfriend upon getting into her yellow Bug with the former Evil Queen, informing them she was picking them up as soon as possible to go face off with Pan. Regina had sat in the passenger seat and brooded over Peter's brief, disconcerting missive.

Could he know? Regina had wondered, shifting uneasily in the front seat, But how? Unless the stupid girl told him…

However, she dared not voice her thoughts with the others in the car. Henry's safety depended on this secret, and she valued Henry above all else. So she'd sat in fear- how annoying an emotion it was, and one she was entirely unaccustomed to –as they made the drive to silent, decrepit Storybrooke cemetery.

When they arrived at last, Regina, Emma, Hook, Neal, and the Charmings walked warily through the cemetery. The gate creaked as they made their entrance, the screech of metal sounding like a gunshot in the quiet of the graveyard. Their small party looked left and right, alert for traps but could see very little. There were almost no lights in the cemetery- when she had created Storybrooke, Regina wanted to discourage anyone from visiting the cemetery, lest the discover her secret vault, and so had kept it unlit. As if to add to the eerie atmosphere, mist had crept in over the hill, obscuring the tombstones. The former Evil Queen felt chills run up her spine as she swore she saw movement in the shadows out of the corner of her eye.

"We're not alone," she warned the others, summoning a fireball to her hand. Not for the first time, she wondered if they themselves were being led into a trap, just as they'd led Wendy Darling into a trap not a half hour before.

"Of course you're not. I told you that in my little note, didn't I?" Pan's voice came out of the darkness, and the infernal boy himself stepped around the side of the tomb of Henry Mills, Sr. He smirked at them, his tone thick with amusement.

"What do you want, Pan?" Emma demanded. She made as if to attack him, and Hook laid a hand on her arm, trying to calm her. The Savior shook him off without even a glance in his direction. Instead, her own hand reached for the gun at her hip, though what she thought she could do with it was anyone's guess.

"Just to chat about our game," Peter said smoothly, "I wanted to congratulate you on finally learning to work around the rules." He truly was impressed they'd come up with their little plot, though he was…displeased about the outcome. He knew Wendy would have undoubtedly been upset, but then again, he himself had told her he'd been betrayed by the adults closest to him. Now, the same had happened to her. Still, he promised himself, he would rectify that situation as soon as possible. In the meantime, he'd take out his own displeasure on the unsuspecting people before him- the Lost Girl, her lovers, her family, and the Evil Queen.

"What do you mean?" David inquired. His own hand wandered to his waist, and while there was a gun there, it was obvious he was itching for the sword he'd used in the Enchanted Forest.

"Imprisoning Wendy," Peter stated flatly. His eyes glittered with an emotion Emma and the others couldn't identify. He seemed to be vacillating between rage, satisfaction, and a cruel calculation. It was completely disturbing, and once again, they were reminded that while he may have looked like an ordinary boy at the dance this evening, he was anything but.

"How did you-?" Mary Margaret began, but Pan cut her off:

"How did I know? Oh, you should realize by now that I know everything. Your plan was obvious. Wendy isn't a Lost Boy, and she couldn't be kidnapped if you tricked her into going where she wanted to go- to find her brother in jail. Once she was there you trapped her inside. A bit underhanded for you, but effective, nonetheless," he nodded in acknowledgment of the result.

"If it was so obvious," Regina inquired, "then how is it that you didn't expect it? You failed," she sneered, "and now we have Miss Darling." She hadn't thought that Peter would be so invested in a girl, but he'd gone and kissed her. Emma had said it.

The demon boy shrugged nonchalantly, "We all know you won't hurt Wendy. It's not in your nature. Besides," he repeated his infamous adage with relish, "Peter Pan never fails. You've just raised your stakes in the game."

"This isn't good," Hook muttered under his breath. Aloud, he warned, "Regina, don't provoke him."

"Why not?" Regina asked darkly. She hatedPan, she hated him, and seeing him look so at ease on the steps of her father's tomb, as if they were steps to his throne, infuriated her. If Emma was right, and he had been kissing Wendy Darling- and she saw no reason for Emma to lie –then Wendy clearly meant something to him. Didn't she? Was he bluffing? Or was he really so confident in his own plans that he simply didn't see Wendy being in jail as a setback? Or, Regina thought, did he think he was so powerful he could free her at his whim, and in the meantime, was going to taunt his so-called enemies?

"Because," Neal answered dryly, "all it's going to do is make whatever he's doing worse." He grimaced, remembering numerous occasions when he'd learned that the hard way.

"Don't be ridiculous," Regina scoffed, but Neal shook his head:

"Don't you get it? The reason he's so happy is because he's already done something terrible. If you make him mad, he'll use it as an excuse to make whatever he did more terrible, or find something even worse to do."

"If you're done whispering," Peter interjected, sounding almost bored, "I thought it would only be fair to tell you I've raised my stakes as well."

"What've you done, Pan?" Hook queried wearily. Like Neal, he knew at this point there was no reversing whatever Pan had done, only reacting to it. It was better to get Pan to admit the truth rather than taunt them and leave them guessing.

"I'm admiring my new vault," Peter explained. With a careless grin, he reached forward and threw open the great stone doors. Regina eagerly waited for her magical protections to destroy him, but nothing happened. Her jaw dropped, and Pan's grin grew larger.

"Regina," Mary Margaret murmured, shell-shocked, "Didn't you put spells on that?"

"A hundred and twelve," the former Evil Queen confirmed, "The only people who can get into that vault are me, and people who I allow in. He should be dust by now!"

"Ah, and that's where you're wrong," Pan said gleefully, "The only people who can get into this vault are me, and whoever I allow in. Your vault belongs to me. It has since the day we made the rules for our contract."

"That doesn't make any sense," Regina protested, "I was in here with Henry and Wendy, just the other night."

"Because I let you in," Pan said, "I didn't want you to realize I owned your vault."

There was a dreadful silence, and with utter horror, Regina whispered:

"You wanted me to take out my heart, and Henry's."

Peter smirked, "Did you only now just catch on?"

"Wait!" Emma interrupted, becoming more agitated as she realized the gravity of the situation, "What's he talking about? You took out Henry's heart? And it's in that vault!?"

"Oh yes," Pan affirmed, "Regina's heart, and Henry's, are inside the tomb of her dearly departed father, where she so conveniently put them the other night. And Felix's heart, meanwhile-" as if on cue, his loyal second glided into view behind a nearby tombstone, his teeth wide in an entirely unnerving smile – "is back where it should be, after she so conveniently put his heart in her vault this morning."

At Emma's accusatory glare, Regina said defensively, "Yes, I took Felix's heart. I was going to use him as a spy, but I didn't want to be carrying it around all the time." She ran a hand through her hair, fury coursing through her. Damn Peter Pan to hell. If only I could put a sleeping curse on him, and send him there myself!

"But I don't understand," David queried, "How were you able to take control of Regina's vault in the first place?" He'd battled Regina in the Enchanted Forest, and he knew she would never leave her property undefended, especially something so precious to her as her father's tomb.

"Don't you see?" Pan smirked, "You should always listen to what you're promising."

"I did not promise you my vault!" Regina practically screamed at him, sending a fireball his way, which he dodged with practiced ease. He gave a brief wave of his hand, and the Charmings, Regina, Emma, Neal, and Hook moved together in a tight circle as roughly forty torches were simultaneously lit around the graveyard. A hooded figure held each torch, the flames flickering in the darkness, making what little could be seen of their obscured faces vaguely demonic. Mary Margaret forced down a gasp as she took in the sheer number of them- they could only be Lost Boys -who had returned to Pan's side. Or, she considered, perhaps even more frighteningly, there were new Lost Boys who had joined him from Storybrooke's population. She clutched her husband's hand, and breathed deeply as she fought to focus on the main conversation and not the possible ambush closing in around them.

"But you did," Pan said calmly, staring Regina straight in the eye, "You see, I asked for your holdings, which by definition, is legally owned property. You legally own- well, owned -the vault. As such, it is now mine. And your spell, which was to only let the owner inside...well, that's now me. And all of its contents are now mine. Including your son's heart."

"You bastard," Regina swore.

Pan's eyes darkened at the insult, and angry murmurs came from all directions, though no one attacked them.

"Not quite," he retorted, "Just intelligent. Now this whole town is mine. And I have your son's heart- all I need is to get him to believe in me."

---

Author's Note:

So we have some more fluff in this chapter than usual, but don't worry, Peter and Co. are still as twisted as ever. Just the dance provided an outlet for a lot of their feelings.

Also, now we know even more of Peter's backstory- and his plans for the present.

Please let me know what you think! I love hearing from you guys. I hope you all liked it. :)

~ladykikyo1792