Wendy had been to this realm once before but she could barely remember it. Half delirious and dying she just recalled the dark, the vast nothingness that was littered with debris and it seemed that not much had changed. As they fell from the portal Peter's grip on her hand tightened and she could see why. They appeared to have landed on the only rock still floating, they could have easily fallen into nothingness. If either of them fell they would do so together.

"I thought that the Nothing would be dark but it's not, not really…it's like a blindness," Peter whispered and she looked at his face. His lips were drawn up in their patent smirk but his eyes were unfocused and haunted. Wendy squeezed his hand and looked back, trying to see what he described but she only saw a starless expanse of night. She turned behind them and saw a strange sight. The rock they stood on was not bare but also boasted a doorway, one flanked by two stone sphinxes. It was the doorway to the Realm Room. Wendy considered briefly going through it, to see the wondrous room beyond, but Peter pulled on her arm and they sat on the end of the rock, their legs dangling over the edge. Sitting at the edge of the universe, the end of it, she thought dreamily. Peter peered over, a little too far and she balled her fist into the back of his shirt. He smirked and sat back.

"I can't fly anymore and I don't particularly want to fall into that," he quipped but there was a strain to his words.

"Why are we here?" Learning that Tink was back on the island made Wendy eager to return. It had been so many years since she last saw the fairy. Wendy never got the chance to say goodbye and it was a regret that stayed with her.

"Because I want you to realise, truly realise what's at stake. What happened to this realm was not a natural progression. Worlds die, cities fall and so on but this realm was meant to live, was supposed to be saved."

"What happened?" Wendy gazed at his face as he glanced at her and then looked away. It was not often she found him utterly serious but it did happen. She had never seen him look so grave.

"This world used to be thriving, magic flowed through its veins and like Neverland it was powered by belief, belief and faith that stemmed from magicless worlds like yours. There is a girl…but not really at girl at all. She's like me, ageless and she ruled this realm for thousands of years….The Childlike Empress is this realm in the same way that the island is part of me," Peter said, his eyes fixed on a distant dark spot as his fingers absentmindedly pinched at the sand by his knee.

"What happened to her?"

"She got sick because people stopped believing and that sickness spread and spread until nothing was left," he motioned to the desolation around them.

"You think that's going to happen to you?" she asked with a slight shake to her voice and he finally turned to stare at her with a grim expression.

"It is happening Wendy. I'm dying. Look at me," he commanded in a quiet tone and she could not disobey. He was still as handsome as ever, as quick to laugh and joke, still as effortlessly commanding but she could not ignore the sickly pallor of his face or the dark rings around his eyes. He was able to hide it but she knew and she never forgot. However the weakness that had been plaguing him year after year was not the thing that made Wendy feel queasy. There was a faintness to him now. That was the only word that Wendy could use to describe the phenomenon. He was there, she could touch him and be touched in return but sometimes his presence became ghostlike, as if for just a heartbeat he had faded away, even though he was right in front of her.

It was terrifying and like most people in hopeless situations we have no ability to control Wendy tried to ignore it. But she could not any longer. She leaned over and brushed her lips against his cheek and he smiled before turning to capture her mouth. They kissed as the last remnants of a dying world floated past them. Cupping his face Wendy leaned back with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the heavy mood.

"Is she still alive? The Empress?"

"Of course, otherwise we wouldn't be here. Look," he whispered and pointed. Wendy squinted a saw a tiny spec of pulsating gold floating in the far distance. The Ivory Tower, the last standing building in Fantasia. Wendy was suddenly struck with how awful the Empress's fate was, unable to stop thinking how lonely she must be, how miserable surrounded by the ghosts of what once was. She did not want that for Peter, though some would think he deserved it. Trying to rouse herself from these dark thoughts she eyed him quizzically.

"How do you know so much about this place?" It had not escaped her notice that he seemed more knowledgeable about this place than his own past. Peter flashed a grin and sat back with a sigh.

"The spinsters used to use this world and the empress as a warning. 'Do you wanna end up like the Childlike Empress floating in a sea of Nothingness? No? Than behave you naughty boy!'" he imitated their voices in a waving falsetto and Wendy could not help smile.

"They were worried about you."

"They're snoops who have nothing better to do than interfering in things that don't concern them," he uttered darkly and got to his feet. He offered a hand to Wendy but she remained seated. She gazed up at him with a stern expression.

"You can be mean but they're right about one thing, you're very good at deluding yourself Peter."

"That's rich and frankly bizarre. I brought you here to how you the honest truth. How is that being deluded?" he asked, pulling her to her feet with a frown. She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself as he tugged her forward. "What are you talking about?"

"A very simple truth: the boy. This fate can be avoided if you just step back and let Henry take -"

"My place?" he interrupted scornfully, his jaw clenching. They hardly ever mentioned the heart of the truest believer as anything other than an object, a greatly prized and sort after object but no more than that. Even to Wendy he was thought of as "the boy" and hardly ever by name. That would humanise something that Peter thought of as a mere vessel carrying his magic salvation. Who cares about the discarded syringe once the medicine is taken? No one. But as the years grew short Wendy found that she could not harden her heart to it.

"When the time comes Peter you'll have to make a choice and I can't make it for you…but I can't sit back and do nothing. I want to help if I can, both you and the boy – Henry," she added clearly.

"And how do you propose to do that?" he asked stiffly but the hands on her waist were gentle.

"Don't give him your heart, don't inflict that on him…when the time comes give your heart to me. I'll keep it safe," she whispered, brushing her hand down his chest. His heart beat slowly, slower than her own but then she was all but convinced that Peter was not like her and likely never had been. He cocked his head thoughtfully, eyes narrowed.

"But he'll die…"

"Maybe not," she replied and would say no more. Peter shrugged and she knew with a horrible writhing guilt and anger that he did not care whether the boy lived or died. Though his cursed heart was not so burdened, though cracks of light pulsed from it more than ever before he was still almost utterly devoid of sympathy for anyone but himself, Wendy and his island.

Peter smirked with a knowing look and brushed a curling lock away from her face. "I know why. You think I won't love you if I give my heart away. You'd let him die to avoid losing it," he contemplated with a proud expression, one that flashed with mirth. He looked touched.

Wendy shrugged a shoulder, turning away from him so he could not see her sickened expression. She wanted to spare Henry the horror of having a cursed heart, that was the thought that made her able to sleep but she could not deny that the thought of losing Peter's love, as twisted and consuming as it was, made that sleep restless and plagued her waking hours. For Peter to truly succeed he would have to sacrifice his love for it.

I would be free…

The thought was faint, issued by a voice that once was strident and pushed her to escape the boy now circling his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the thought away, and let her head fall back against his shoulder. She felt the glide of his lips on her throat and then the graze of his teeth as his hands groped at her with a sudden needy want and he pushed them through the doorway into the Realm Room. Wendy only had a whirling glimpse of it before he located the casement window to Neverland – which she saw with a heartbroken lurch looked like her old nursery window – and pushed her through it, spinning her around in his haste to kiss her.

"Home sweet home."

The next morning Wendy woke early and left Peter sleeping. The jungle was heavily obscured by fog and the sun was a dim golden coin in the white sky. The weather, the very rise and fall of the sun and moon depended on Peter's temperament, his emotions being tied to the elements was well documented but this weak sun was not tied to any inner turmoil or distress. Peter was happy, as happy as he had ever been but for all his twisted contentment he could not make the sun shine any longer. Wendy looked up as the sky as she approached Tinkerbell's old treehouse. The sun did not rise anymore, it crawled so the days were long and gloomy and the nights endless and humid.

As she reached the base of the ladder Wendy noticed a spotted orchid growing at the roots of the tree. That was not peculiar, orchids grew all over the island but what was strange was the petals. They were dropping, the leaves yellowing and buckled. The sight gave Wendy a nasty start. Nothing died in Neverland, everything was in a perpetual state of frozen life.

Not anymore, not with the way Peter is…

Casting the troubled thought away Wendy climbed the ladder, not bothering to voice her presence. She had not seen Tink for years and she has no real idea what to expect upon seeing the fairy. The last time she had seen her Hook had carried the unconscious fairy out of the cave were she had almost died.

But she would not have died, he would not have gone through with it. Thinking about Rufio, now long dead still caused her heart to squeeze with regret. If only things had been different…but the time for what if's were gone. Tink was back, for whatever reason, and she was welcome.

"Tink?" Wendy knocked on the bottom of the trapped door but received no reply. Holding her breath she slowly opened the door and climbed into the tree house. Since the fairy had left her residence it had been sort after by the lost boys but no one but Felix was allowed to sleep there, on Peter's orders. On her return he had silently moved out without preamble, as if he had been waiting for her return all along and was just house sitting. Wendy suspected there was more to Felix's house sitting but she knew any attempts to talk about his feelings would end in either awkward silence or crazed laughter.

Tink was asleep in her hammock. Wendy tiptoed over to her and took a seat on the table before her swinging figure. The treehouse was positioned above the tree canopy and received the best light on the island and as the pale sun shone the fairy's sleeping face was illuminated. Wendy's stomach dropped.

She had always been pale but with a certain fresh dewiness, as if something within her illuminated her skin and made her glow. Wendy had witnessed the way that Tink would shine when happy, which was not often, a process that she had no control over. Now her skin was sickly pale, her closed eyelids red and thin while dark bruises ringed her eyes. Wendy was instantly reminded of Peter, who she thought was growing faint. Tink was fading like the last glimmers of sunlight.

"Hook was right," Wendy muttered sadly, brushing a strand of hair away from Tink's face. He had accused Peter of keeping Tink like miners keep songbirds in cages. Once the bird died they knew that their own death was not far behind.

Why does he even need that hourglass when all the proof is here? Wendy considered faintly but then focused on Tink as she started to stir. As her eyes opened and she gradually focused on Wendy the ageless girl held her breath until Tink's impassive face broke into a sleepy smile and she motioned for Wendy.

"Come here you," she whispered and pulled Wendy in for a long, tight hug. Pulling back Wendy wiped her eyes as Tink attempted to stand with help, her own eyes pricked with tears.

"I haven't even brought you a welcome gift, I didn't think," Wendy said in distress, fussing over the fairy and straightening her cardigan. Tink laughed and it was the bell like sound she remembered, though faint.

"Look at you, over sixty years surrounded by that heartless riff raff and you're still a well-mannered lady," she uttered it fondly, though before she would have jeered it. Wendy shrugged, blushing a little because it was true.

"Good form, I suppose," she whispered but then wished she had not. Tink smiled sadly and sat back down in the hammock.

"Yes…you and Killain are both very alike, though you don't know it," she said with a weak smile, her gaze losing focus. Wendy leaned forward and gently took Tink's hand. She knew that the fairy had been quietly but deeply in love with the pirate for many, many years and while the two had shared an intimate relationship Wendy was not sure if it had a happy ending. If she was back in Neverland she could guess but she so wanted her friend to be happy, even if it was with Captain Hook.

"What happened? Why have you come back?"

"Oh I couldn't wait to get back. I missed the crabs."

"Tink…" Wendy cajoled gently and the sarcasm faded from the fairy. Finally she shrugged and sighed.

"It didn't work out. We both tried but it wasn't to be..." she said with a brave smile but her mouth wobbled like a guttering flame. She grew even dimmer, that inward warmth growing pale. Wendy held her hand tighter.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything."

"It's not your fault, none of it. We just admitted that we both wanted something else, the same thing actually: revenge. We couldn't do that together, though we made a good run of it," she said and smiled wistfully, her gaze turning to the view outside.

"But why come back here at all? You could go anywhere."

"Could I?" Tink said, her gaze drifting back to Wendy. "Once I could have but not anymore. It might have escaped your notice or you're just too polite to mention it but I'm not exactly brimming with vitality here. I'm dying."

"Don't say that!" Wendy cried.

"Why not? It's the truth. Magic is fading, belief is fading and so am I. It's the way of the world. Well, this world," she added dryly.

"But there must be a way to help you?"

"There is but you're not the one who can help. Only one person can do that."

"Peter…" Wendy looked at the misty tree canopy, eying the sluggish process of the sun and clouds before turning back to Tink. "You think once he saves himself he'll save you?"

"Yes. We're tied to this island, both of us and if he goes so do I. Other fairies have done the same, tie their lives to another thing they love but I didn't know what I was doing. He was just a little boy who needed someone…"

Wendy stared at her curiously. There was still so much about Peter and his past that she had no clue about. She wanted to press Tink for more information but the fairy's eyes were dropping and she sunk back into the hammock.

"But why here Tink? Why this place?"

"Cause here time stands still. Nothing progresses, nothing grows. I can stick around long enough until…" she trailed off and then twitched her back in a gesture that Wendy had seen before.

"Until what?" she asked, suddenly suspicious. She had the sense Tink was holding back on her.

"Until Regina comes here, I can stick it out until then."

Like Peter Tink had frequently consulted with seers to help navigate the future. It was how he knew so much about what was to come. He had spent years collecting as much information as he could, piecing it all together like a puzzle.

"You'll stick around after that too! I know pixie dust can help you, you said it was more powerful than ordinary dust. I'll find some for you."

"You're sweet," she said with a faint smile, her hand slack on hers. "Oh that dust. Did I ever tell you I'm the reason there's so little of it?" she asked and Wendy shook her head. "I blew up the magic bean grove with piles and piles of pixie dust. That's why the Dark Hollow exists."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because Peter was getting on my nerves," she quipped dryly and Wendy couldn't help laugh. She has frequently lost her temper with him but if she had the power that Tink had? Oh he better watch out. Wendy became sombre and stared at her intently.

"Even so there is some left. You can use it," pixie dust was like manna to Tink.

"It won't work, not without belief."

"I believe," Wendy assured her as the fairy's hand slipped out of hers. She gazed down in worry, gnawing at her lip. She would find a way to save her friend, or at least make her stay in Neverland as comfortable as she could. She would find the dust and make it work. Before she descended the ladder she looked at Tink, another question on the tip of her tongue.

"Does he know? Does Hook know about your present…condition?"

For just a fraction of a second the woman's face crumpled like shattered glass but in a flash she was smiling sardonically. "Oh, I thought it best we part without any extra burdens…and well I might be wingless and a disgrace but I do have a few tricks up my sleeve," she lifted a thin hand and then waved it over her face. Her cheeks grew red, her eyes bright and her hair shone like spun gold in the faint light.

"Glamour," Wendy said with a touch of awe, though she was not as awestruck as the first time she had seen it done. "Peter does it too."

"I know, who do you think taught him?" Tink smiled nostalgically and Wendy left as she fell back to sleep. No one but Felix and herself were aware that he was sick, he did not want even a hint of weakness to be viewed by his followers. But soon they would look at the sky, at the withering plant life and his dwindling magic and come to their own conclusions.