Thing He Loves Most (Peter Pan/Ouat)

Prologue

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"Hey, you hungry?"

I tore my eyes away from the dark expanse of ocean we were soaring high above to see a bowl of soup with a piece of bread being held out to me. My eyes trailed passed the hand and up to meet Emma's hazel eyes. 

As if on cue, my stomach growled deeply, reminding me of how hungry I was. Luckily, the sound was drowned out by the wind and the gentle creaking of the ship as it weaved through the clouds. 

"Thank you," I said politely, taking the offered dish.

Wordlessly, I returned back to staring out at the dark water. The wind whipped my long brown hair against my face, but my eyes remained focused on the spot where the island had long disappeared into the blackness. But the memories were still fresh in my mind. 

I still felt Emma's presence next to me, resting her elbows against the railing.

"Must be relieved to finally be off that island," She started, playing it casually. "I know I am." 

I knew she was only trying to strike up a conversation to lighten the heavy mood after what everyone had gone through back on Neverland, as she had previously done with some of the refugee lost boys scattered around the deck of the ship before she came over to me. However, I couldn't find it in me to even gauge a smile, let alone a response. 

"Hey." 

This time, I turned my head to meet her steady gaze, which shown with gentle understanding. "You did what you had to do," She told me. "We all did. There was nothing you or anyone else could have done. You and the others are finally free from Pan." 

At her words, I glanced over towards the center of the ship where the aforementioned group of Lost Boys were huddled, and spotted a familiar dark haired boy. 

Thomas.

He sat with his head hunched over his own bowl of soup. By the look of it, he hardly touched it, only pushing its contents back and forth with his spoon in a mindless manner. His jet black hair, which had grown out a few inches from being on the island for so long, partly hid his face. 

As if he could feel my stare, he looked up and his dull blue eyes met mine. There was an unspoken sadness there that matched mine, if not more, and I half wondered if our friendship could ever be restored.

We had all lost something. And there were still pieces of ourselves that stayed behind on the island. Perhaps, for some, it was a prison that they were desperate to escape from. While for others, it was home.

I finished eating my food and carried the empty bowl over to the table.

Just as I was turning to leave back to my spot at the railing, I almost bumped into Henry, Emma's son, who was coming for food. He was another one of Pan's many victims--and the very reason the Heroes had come to the island. He was a lot younger than me, by about six years--if I only counted my physical age.

I stepped to the side, allowing him access to the table. He grabbed a bowl and as he was passing by, we locked gazes and he smirked. But it wasn't one of those innocent, boyish smirks. No, this one had a certain evil mischief to it, like he knew something that I didn't. It sent a chill down my spine.

I watched him walk over to a familiar lost boy sitting in a corner, away from the other lost boys and offered food to him.

The kind gesture both baffled and amazed me. Felix was Pan's faithful servant, who wouldn't even hesitate to kill Henry if Pan asked him to, and here he was offering him a bowl of soup.

Henry really had the heart of the truest believer.

I was pulled out of my thoughts at the Captain's voice announcing we've reached our destination. Storybrooke.

I overheard the lost boys whispering about it, saying that it was going to be their new home. The hope and excitement in their voices brought a dull ache to my chest. I was happy for them that they could have something to call home.

I was still trying to find that.

For a large part of my life, I've jumped from place to place, never staying long enough to even consider calling it home. Deep down, there was a part of me that longed to find a place of belonging, so I could stop running. But that feeling is forced down when I remind myself that I had a home a long time ago, but it was taken away from me.

I went back over to the railing and looked out at the sea. The sun had started to rise, lighting the sky just enough to see a land mass with buildings in the distance; a town.

Storybrooke was just another place to say goodbye to.

--

*A/N:

Hey readers!

I thought it'd be cool to write a Peter Pan fanfic from OUAT so I decided to give it a try.

Let me know what you think in the comment section, and if the prologue gets at least 5 votes, I'll post the next part!

Also, any feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks :)

**PS. I posted 2 trailers of the story on YouTube, a short trailer and an extended trailer. Just type in 'The Heart of the Thing He Loves Most' or follow this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFZBWZcqcO8