Pan's Tiger

Chapter 3: His Tiger

Hey,
Thanks for reading- please vote and comment!
I'm very sorry but next week I'm on holiday with no wifi- so I will update lots of chapters before and hopefully write lots on holiday.
Enjoy,
Annabelle_the_reader
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'Then I am your husband Lily, I am Malcolm.'

What?

Peter Pan was Malcolm.

How is this possible?

'What?!' I spluttered, my jaw dropping. Everything seemed so right, but so wrong. I knew I recognised him, but also I couldn't believe someone so obnoxious would be my husband. 'You can't possibly be serious. What about Rumple?'

'Oh, but I am serious, Tiger Lily.' He said, using the name we both knew only he would ever call me. 'And Rumple? I'm afraid I lost our Rumple, our son. The natives killed him. He is dead, Lily, I am sorry. But can't you see it is me, Tiger Lily? Don't you remember the young me from when I used to have dreams about you, you're the Princess of the natives of Neverland. When I used to come to Neverland in my dreams and play with you? I recognised you instantly to be my wife.' I shook my head, unable to comprehend what he was saying.

It was like a thousand walls were closing in and I was unable to breathe. I had given up most of my magic to the shadow to gain eternal youth so I could find Malcolm and Runplestiltskin here, and now he wasn't even here. A lump formed in my throat, I felt like I was about to be sick. I grabbed the panels of the window and vomited onto Neverland's soil. Nothing felt right.

Suddenly, I spontaneously turned and ran as fast as my legs could carry me away from Peter Pan, who despite being my husband I didn't trust at all. I sprinted across the field, causing many Lost Boys to stop what they were doing and turn to face me, occasionally laughing.

I heard voices, but I didn't bother to stop. I felt like I was like a breeze, whipping past them as fast as possible.

I blocked out all noises, keeping my head low and pounding my energy through my arms and legs, knowing I had ages before I reached the beach once again.

I was running away from the strange boys behind me, the ones that keep gaining distance, no matter how fast I ran. Like a treadmill, I was certain I wasn't going to get anywhere, but I pressed on, determined to reach the beach before they found me and reach Oliver before he left. My feet were in agony, plummeting pain throughout my body. I could feel thousands of cuts and grazes on my bare feet; sharp and torturous pains shot through me and had tormented the soles of my feet, to the extent of excruciating pain. However, I forced myself to carry on, faster than my legs could carry me.

I began to quicken my pace. Each footstep brought me further away from the Lost Boys, the camp of the Lost Boys and Peter Pan. I darted, swerved and dived in and out of trees, shrubs and bushes, running in terror.

I ran faster than I had ever ran before because my life literally depended on it. My feet alternately sinking through the sand and finding the brittle surface of the rocky ground. My legs mechanically working smoothly, moving my desperate body through the wind.

And then, beyond the blooming golden sand, I saw him and my stomach lurched, almost bringing me to my knees. It was Oliver, running across from me, his black shirt torn and his cloak missing. I gasped, my smile widening with delight and happiness.

'Lily,' He said softly, coming closer towards me and halting me in my tracks. The sea was behind him, the waves seeming to watch us intently. Then, he mumbled softly, 'Quick, Lily, they're coming and I want to be ready for them.'

Wordlessly, we spun around, before withdrawing our swords and taking a few nervous steps backwards. I panted heavily, my nerves getting the better of me. I was convinced that my limited magic would be disabled; my magic never worked when I was afraid.