Author's note - Hello! This is a oneshot and I'm not following the OUAT original timeline or anything. This is a dark Darling Pan fic with not a very happy ending and I know there's lots of plot holes around the area where I mention that Peter's heart is decaying but he still lives on for centuries, but it's 3AM where I live, so let's go with it :) I mean Pan's thrifty, let's assume he found a way to slow down his death or something without needing Henry's heart, since of course at the end of that plan, it doesn't turn out very well for him (sorry if that spoils anything for anyone) and we wouldn't want that now, would we Pan lovers.

I hope you guys like what I wrote. Not the best as I'm really sleepy, so please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as punctuation mistakes I didn't notice. Enjoy! Please provide creative feedback if you guys can :) Thank you.

**Try reading this with Taylor Swift's 'My Tears Ricochet' in the background** Love that song.

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It is a slow and crippling realisation, one which ripples through his very being. The lull of the night turns and stretches uncomfortably and the faint murmurs of animals and the pitter-patter of raindrops from leaves- leaves so far above the ground, one would have to crane their chin up high just to see their origins - had abruptly broken from sudden cataclysmic shaking. As if in sympathy, the island begins to twist and crumble in agony as he drops to his knees and curls into himself, heaving out dry, painful cries into the sand. The pain is raw, and he has never felt this kind of sorrow before - or if he has, it was centuries ago, during a time he does not remember. A time when she was not yet born, and his naivety knew no bounds, but loneliness had always been ever present despite the presence of his Lost Boys.

She had been a cure for that - his salvation - though he had never admitted it aloud, too proud as he was Pan. Like a God, he had ruled this realm, and loneliness was a weakness he may have possessed, but would scoff at and gladly deny until he bled…Though now is different - for a second time since she had first arrived, over a century ago, he is without her, and he feels it in his bones.

"She's gone…"

It cripples his very core…The emptiness clangs like a pained echo in the deepest recesses of his being, and it clangs, and clangs and clangs - and somewhere, stored safely in a box in her treehouse where she had promised to keep him safe, his pitted black lump of a heart writhes and distorts even more at a devastating speed.

One could say that a beast without a heart could not cry…and they would be right, except one could also never deny that despite his lacking, it did not stop Pan from feeling the relentless waves of loss and sorrow that crashed against the walls of his chest, as if to break their way out. A reprieve he must have wanted, but would not be allowed, for that was impossible.

A pitiful beast, indeed…

Left suffering there, his most loyal companion stayed quietly in the shadows and silently sorrowed with him. Pan was a nasty and cruel, cruel boy, and even while in the depths of such pain and misery, he would not allow pity within the confines of his own land - pity or concern that was not from her…She was gone, lost with the others, though it was different this time, because she was far more important and far more precious to him than any other had ever been. No death had ever made him feel this way...She was gone, her soul now gone and lost with the scattered specs of time that were out of his reach and out of his land where time did not exist. She was far away from him…yes, age did not kill her…It was him, and he knew. Her heart had been tearing, fraying even, like the edges of her dirtied nightgown which she had once worn with pride - a symbol of her accomplishments in this jungle, in this wild and deformed version of bliss.

She had felt dirty in it, she had said once in an attempt to confide in him, and it was not in a literal sense. Something had broken in her one day, and he had not realised it until late. She had been disenchanted; no longer could she stare at her dress splattered in aged blood and dirt from past victories against Lost Boys and pirates. He thought she had grown accustomed to the tough exteriors and interiors of Neverland, but for once the man-boy had to admit his faults...His error - a miscalculation.

His strong, brave Lost Girl could not withstand him, his bruising words, or his sneers and snide remarks that had more bite to them than he had intended, and his moments of disdain for her sympathetic and utterly human habits and worries had cut at his nerves, day by day. He had been too rough with her, forgetting that they were created from different worlds, different backgrounds - different materials - and he would often forget that she was his Queen and should have been treated as so. He was a rough boy - a cruel, cruel, unforgiving boy- and for a long time before her, his only precious belonging was his island. He did not know how to treat her - did not fully understand what he needed to do to understand her - and had continued to view her as his belonging even after her incessant retaliations that she was her own person. Was she not his? He did not understand, because Pan was a mysterious anomaly who did not like to divulge the secrets of his being, and he had thought that she would eventually come to her own understanding that she was his, as much as he was hers. They belonged together, and he had no need for pixie dust or the like to challenge his belief.

Had Wendy known this at the time, that Peter Pan did in fact care for her in the deepest parts of his heart, perhaps things would have been different…Fate had been cruel and had matched them together; they are soulmates in every sense of the word, were it not for their backgrounds and ambitions…and were it not for his hallowed chest, perhaps he would have been better, kinder even, but what if's could not bring her back

He had lost her - and he couldn't take it. Feelings of inadequacy and guilt tore him apart, and he ripped at the sands beneath him, willing them to spit out Wendy Darling, smiling like she should be. Her golden hair, often shimmering like fresh honey in the right intensity of sunlight, flowed gently about in the soft gusts of wind he made happen, just to see the look of wonderment in her eyes at what his island could do. At what he could do. She had always appreciated even the smallest of things, and he had done it all and made it all just for her, though again, he had never once admitted it to her. Even her eyes made him feel things...Feelings of pleasant but unfamiliar curls in the pit of his stomach and a flutter in his black heart would often follow in turn when she stared at him with those lapis-like eyes that turned into glistening hazel in the dark…And so he tore at himself again.

How could he lose her? Pan. Peter Pan. That was he - the embodiment of impossibilities, leader of the Lost Boys, owner of his own realm that he governed with a tight fist…but as much as he loathed to admit his limits, even he knew he couldn't bring back the dead…and Felix knew, from his position in the shadows as a silent wall of comfort, that mere words could never be enough…Understandably, how could one comfort a heartbroken King about his dead lover, his Queen? The one that all Lost Boys, present and past since her arrival, knew to be Peter's only tether to sanity and any form of positive feeling?

Indeed, a pitiful beast…A beast with no beauty, as this was not his tale… And perhaps it was fate that Wendy Darling would always forever be out of his grasp, though death was too cruel a destiny for a pure thing like her, and so he mourned her death for centuries to come and laid her dying body under the oldest tree in Neverland and carved her face into the night stars and into the sands and the trees…for she had touched everything in Neverland, including his heart, which she had loved more than anything else despite his abuse, and so he had welcomed the beating organ back just for her...It was what she would have wanted, he told himself…Peter will never forget her - his heart turning darker each year, and he welcomed her haunting until her voice was but a faint but constant echo in the crooked caves of his body and soul…

She had taken everything with her when she died that day...Sobbing angrily and running wildly and uncaringly into the part of the island she knew Peter had warned her about, wanting to spite him even then, until she had stumbled forward, not realising her position, and had cut herself on overgrown Dreamshade her tears would not allow her to see…and as she convulsed and withered there- her complexion turning pale, veins turning a grotesque black and her heart slowing rapidly- she could only cry harder upon realising that Peter had not chased after her, but had instead chosen to leave again. An unplanned trip to a different realm, as he had resorted to doing those past few months when their arguments grew in number and intensity…and were starting to be about things Peter could neither understand nor handle, stating they were too 'grown-up' for the likes of him…His selfishness had won that day, and Wendy had retaliated against him as she had wanted to, but at a price, neither wanted to pay…

…And Peter blamed himself, over and over again, and will continue to forever blame himself that he did not save her that day…After all, forgiveness was not his to give, it was hers…but Wendy was dead, and could no longer talk, and so he did what he thought to be the most honourable thing to do for her, for once - he lived in scorn of himself for her, thinking that she must have hated him at her last breath…

He did not know that like always, even at her last moments, Wendy had always fiercely loved Peter Pan and had only wished to see him one last time before death… Unfortunately, wishes don't always come true…

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Author's Last Notes - Hey guys, idk if the whole tripping and cutting herself on Dreamshade was a believable death but I'll review this again soon, again running on no sleep so please be kind. Also rereading this, this fic turned darker than I thought it was, but don't worry! I'll come back again when I get inspiration with a Darling Pan fic that doesn't end with either one dying or both dying. I'm not saying it'll definitely be light-hearted though, just saying.

Anyways yeah, I really hope you guys like my story :) I got a lottttt of inspiration from binge reading OUAT specific Darling Pan fics I used to read a lot in the past. Before then was the original Peter Pan movie, the 2003 Movie, books, and etc.

Anyways, please be nice with any criticisms and I hope that anyone who ends up actually reading my story has a great day despite my sad and dark story :) I'm going to bed now.