Author's Note: First off, thank you for reading! Secondly, I love Darling Pan. I hate that OUAT made Peter Rumple's father, so in my story, he isn't. Just as a quick reference: this is AU, and is not following the storyline of the show. Peter did want Henry for the Heart of the Truest Believer, and the Charmings did go to Neverland to rescue him...but how that came about diverges from the show and will be revealed in the story.

Enjoy!

~ladykikyo1792

Chapter 1: My Nightmares are His Dreams

It had been three months since Wendy Darling had been brought to Storybrooke. She lived with her brothers in an apartment down the street from Granny's. While she initally had been happy to see them again, it had quickly become obvious that they were not the boys she had known. Too many years had gone by, years which she had spent with Pan, years which they had worked for him in stony silence and become men old enough to be her father. Sometimes, they acted like it. The result was an awkward relationship, especially as Wendy Darling, now in Storybrooke, had aged. Not much, of course- she now resembled what a normal sixteen year old girl would look like -rather than the eternal fourteen year old she had been in Neverland. But Wendy Darling, no matter how much she wanted to pretend, was not a normal sixteen year old. If only she were.

Oh, she pretended. At high school, she changed her name. She was listed on the rosters as Gwendolyn Angelina Carissima. Her friends called her "Gwen." She knew who they had been in the Enchanted Forest, and they seemed happy to be called by their old names. But she wanted to forget she had been Wendy Darling, and so they never called her that.

Her grades were exemplary. Her teachers never had a bad word to say about her. In fact, when John and Michael came to parent-teacher conferences- for she had no one else -her teachers always mentioned how well she was doing, "in spite of the circumstances."

In spite of the circumstances of her having lived hundreds of years on an island as the prisoner of a mad boy king.

In spite of her being hundreds of years behind everyone else in this world.

In spite of her not really fitting in.

It wasn't that no one had been welcoming. They had. When she'd arrived, Regina had personally welcomed her and thanked her for her role in bringing Henry home. Emma had reassured her she'd be safe now. Henry had immediately introduced her to everyone, and a bunch of girls who looked to be her age took her under their wing. They morphed her into the perfect high schooler, and they thought she was well-adjusted.

They didn't know that every night, she dreamed of Pan. She dreamed of countless nights in dark forests, soft whispers in her ears, chilling laughter, bloody kisses. She dreamed of strands of pearls pulled from mermaid's lifeless bodies and fastened on her own neck. She dreamed of flying, waltzing among the stars. She dreamed of plummeting into the black waters of the ocean, a boy pulling her from the frozen waves and into his arms.

She tossed and turned in her bed, his name a fevered prayer upon her lips, "Peter...Peter..." before she'd sit straight up, her throat strangled in a silent scream. Even though she knew he was dead- for it had been she who betrayed him to Emma and the others -she had nightmares of him returning for her. Every night. She had not once slept soundly, but no one could ever tell- she had been used to not sleeping soundly in Neverland, and so was an excellent actress.

The only time she ever had slept soundly was when the boy who usually hunted her had decided to embrace his prey instead, holding her in her slumber.

That night, she shot up in bed, her usual cry of terror locked in her throat. Beads of sweat dripped down her face, and she blinked back tears. That night's nightmare had been unusually vivid. She almost swore she had felt rough, calloused fingers brush her cheek.

Shuddering, she looked up at her window. It was open, the lacy curtains shifting in the breeze.

Odd. She thought she'd left it closed. A bit apprehensive, she approached the window, fingering the lace.

Just then, red and blue lights flashed, and a police car followed Emma's trademark yellow bug down the street. Sirens blaring, an ambulance followed the police car. Lights were switched on in the houses and apartment complexes neighboring hers, and then a woman screamed.

At that bloodcurdling sound, she ran from her room. She threw open the apartment door, then charged down the stairs, ignoring her brothers' tired protests. As she walked into the bitter cold, she noticed the slight body of a boy being loaded onto a stretcher and placed in the ambulance. He was very young- or at least like her, he appeared to be. Three months ago, he had been a Lost Boy in Neverland. He hadn't had a name there- he had been known as First Twin, and it was he and his brother who had agreed to help Emma with Wendy so long as they could go home. Here, he'd called himself Robert.

Numbly, she watched the blood drip from his body. She wasn't sure if he would stay alive, but the ambulance crew's speed and efficiency showed her that at least they were trying to keep him alive. It sped past her, and stunned, she stumbled back onto the sidewalk. Then, carefully, she crept under the crime scene tape that already been placed around the area. No one noticed her as she clung to the shadows, not only because of the horrific scene before them, but because she was well-versed in hiding in shadows.

"What the hell?" Emma breathed, surveying the ground, "What do you think this is?" The sheriff crossed her arms, then raised an eyebrow at her father. David scanned the gruesome text on the ground, then quipped:

"Well, I'd say it's some kind of dark magic, but Regina's not here."

"Actually," the former evil queen stepped out of the sleek black town car that had just arrived, "I am here, and I can assure you, that is not my handiwork." Attired in an expertly-tailored purple skirt and jacket, she pushed aside the police tape.

"This is a crime scene," Emma said, even now a little surprised at Regina's audacity.

"And I'm the mayor," she retorted, "who also happens to have extraordinarily strong magical powers and can restore anything back to the way it was if I disturb it." Emma had no response to that, and Regina elegantly knelt in the dirt. She dipped her finger in the red liquid copiously sprayed about, and pronounced: "Blood."

"Well, yeah, we figured that out," Emma said sarcastically, "Do you know what it's for?"

"Are you asking me if this is blood magic?" the mayor inquired. She waved her hand, the blood that had been on her index finger neatly went back into its place on the ground, "It's not. The words have no meaning, and there are no spells or runes behind it. I think it's just murder, or at least attempted murder," Regina mused, "A bit messier than my style, but effective, nonetheless." She shrugged.

"Regina," David warned.

"What?" the mayor said, "You asked me what it was for. I told you. It's murder. Now go figure it out." With that, she began to walk back to her waiting car.

"What are you going to do?" Emma demanded, somewhat disbelieving that Regina was going to leave so quickly.

"Impose a curfew until this person, or demon, is found."

Demon?

Wendy thought she had said the word silently, but she must have said it aloud, for the three adults whipped around to look at the startled teenager.

"Gwen," David said, "You shouldn't be here." His gaze was full of concern, and he clearly was thinking that this was the last thing a traumatized girl needed to see.

"No," Regina crossed her arms, "She shouldn't, should she?" She gave Wendy an accusing glance, but Emma rolled her eyes:

"Regina, stop. Look at Gwen's pajamas. Do you see blood? No. She's innocent. Come on, Gwen." With that, the sheriff took her by the hand and led her back to her apartment. Emma personally delivered her all the way upstairs, where Michael thanked Emma for her thoroughness and John tried to berate his sister. He kept up the string of reproach all the way to her room, where she finally fastened her eyes on him and said:

"John! I'm your older sister, even if I don't look it! Enough!" Then she slammed the door in his face. Sighing, she locked it.

What is wrong with me? she thought, leaning against the wall. Though, she supposed, even aside from being the crazed girl from Neverland, having a murder outside your bedroom window was bound to mess you up a little.

The window! She went immediately to close it, but to her surprise, found it already shut. Unnerved, she stumbled backwards. The last time bizarre things had happened at her window, it had meant...it had meant...

Stop, she commanded herself, Just stop it! He's dead. You know that. John and Michael probably came in and shut it.

Still, she trembled a bit as she went to lock it. Then her curiosity had got the better of her and she opened it once more, looking out onto the street. If she strained her head just so, she could just make out the words on the ground, written in Robert's blood:

The devil will come for his Angel.

Immediately, her heart started to pound. No. He was dead. Dead. The words, as Regina had said, were meaningless.

Shaking, she went back into her room, pulling the window shut and locking it tight. Then she rolled the shade down, and crawled into her bed, drawing the covers around her. Though it was hard, and the words written in blood echoed over and over in her brain, she eventually fell asleep.

She had no nightmares that night.

Author's Note:

Please let me know what you think. Thank you for reading. :)

Also, to everyone who reads "The Truth of the Silver Millennium," the next chapter (I hope) should be up by the end of this month (October).

~ladykikyo1792