Thing He Loves Most (Peter Pan/Ouat)

Chapter Five (part 3)

--*Flashback*--

Thomas used to tell me these dreams he'd have every night, ever since he was a little boy. They were about a magical place with mermaids and fairies. A place where you could think up almost anything you desired and it would appear in the palm of your hand. A place where there were no grown ups to tell you what to do and you could do anything you wanted. A place where time stood still and no one grew old.

A place called Neverland.

Thomas had been abandoned by his parents when he was just a baby, so it was only natural to dream of a place of belonging; a place where you could escape reality, even if just for a little while.

That's what it was; what it was supposed to be.

An imaginary world.

Which is why, never in a million years, would I have thought I'd lose him to it in the end.

"Morning, Sunshine."

Then again, I wasn't convinced that this was the wonderful, magical world that Thomas dreamed about. Nor was it anything like the movie. I'd say we missed the turn at that second star and went straight on to insanity.

I slowly lifted my heavy head from between my knees, and through blurry vision, I saw the green patches and earth tones of Pan's trousers and boots. Another pair of legs and boots, these ones clad in brown, stood behind him. His faithful companion, Felix, I guessed.

I blinked rapidly to clear my bleary eyes and allow them to adjust to the sudden change of light, as Pan crouched down on one knee in front of the cage. His sharp, vivid green eyes flickered to the tray of food sitting next to me--delivered to me last night by one of his Lost Boys--but had otherwise gone untouched, before his gaze settled on me. He cocked his head slightly, scrutinizing me with mock sympathy, like I was an injured animal or something, before a smug look graced his face.

"Rough night?"

To him, I probably looked like hell. I sure felt it. My back was sore from leaning against the wooden bars of the cage all night, my clothes were wrinkled, my hair was knotted and disheveled, my head throbbed, and my eyes felt like there was sand in them.

I didn't want to think about how my face might've looked.

I narrowed my eyes in hostility. "If you came to gloat some more..."

He half rolled his eyes. "As entertaining as that is, I have another matter to uphold." He flashed me that same infuriatingly smirk before he reached into his pants pocket and produced a metal object. The key.

I released my protective grip from around my knees and moved out of the shadowed corner of the cage, staring at him in both suspicion and disbelief. "You're letting me go?"

"More or less," He responded cryptically, and his lips suddenly parted into a wide toothy grin that disturbed me. "It's time to start your training."

My eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. "What training?"

"Since you're a Lost Girl now, you'll need to know how to fight."

I glanced over his shoulder at his loyal counterpart with a raised eyebrow, wondering if his leader was serious. He only stared back at me with that same stony glare, not revealing even a flicker of emotion, a toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth and his club resting on his shoulder.

I guess so.

My eyes shifted back to Pan. "And if I refuse?"

He let out a short laugh through his nose and moved his face closer to mine, leaving only the bars of the cage between us. His tone wasn't cold, but matter-of-fact. "You no longer have a choice. See, you lost that privilege when you thought you could challenge me, my rules. All actions have consequences, love," He smirked as his vibrant green eyes glinted with something wicked.