Being lost is okay

Where's Henry? (10)

"Hey!"

"Hey! Stiles!"

"STILES!" A stinging across Stiles' face made him jolt upward, colliding with his slapper.

"Ow!" Neal and Stiles both yelled. Stiles frantically backed away from Neal, looking around at his surroundings.

"Where the hell are we?" Stiles jumped to his feet, regretting it instantly as his head spun.

"Calm down!" Neal said, holding his forehead.

"Calm down? Calm down?" Stiles yelled. Neal lunged at Stiles, tackling the boy to the ground. Stiles scrambled on the ground but Neal quickly pinned him down, holding his hand over Stiles' mouth.

"Unless you wanna be found by Pan, I suggest you shush," Neal said. "I'm here to get you and Henry out. Okay? You can either take the help or go your own way." Neal removed his hand and backed away.

"Where's Henry?" Stiles looked around until his eyes landed on an unconscious Henry.

"He'll wake up in a couple hours," Neal said. "We need to go." Neal picked Henry up. "It's your choice, kid." With that Neal walked into the forest with Stiles following.

Stiles and Neal had been walking for a few hours, yet Henry was still sound asleep.

"Where are we going?" Stiles asked, his feet dragged.

"We need to find my friend," Neal vaguely answered.

"Who's your friend? Mr. Gold?" Stiles asked, crossing his arms.

"No, we ditched each other as soon as we got you and Henry." Neal answered. "Her name is Emma."

"Emma?" Stiles questioned as he stopped in his tracks. "As in Henry's mom, Emma?"

"Yes," Neal said, Stiles began walking again.

"Well how much longer? My feet hurt." Stiles whined.

"Sh!" Neal placed Henry down on the ground.

"What the-" Stiles looked and saw a camp site. Neal kneeled down to the embers of fire, clearly put out only maybe a half an hour before.

"Emma," Neal whispered.

"Aw, poor Baefire." Neal and Stiles spun around to find the owner of the new voice. "And you were so close to finding her," Pan appeared in the middle of the campsite, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrow quirked. "You disappoint me," Pan walked closer to them. "I thought I taught you better. Never break in somewhere unless you know the way out."

"I'll remember that for next time," Neal seethed.

A lost boy , Felix, came up behind Stiles. Felix made no move to touch him but got close enough for Stiles to know he was there.

"He is my son!" Stiles' head whipped to the left but saw nothing. Stiles scanned the undisturbed forest but didn't find the owner of the voice.

"Did you hear that?" Stiles asked Felix but got no response. "Rude." Stiles turned back around and focused back on Pan and Neal's conversation.

"You're saying you let me go?" Neal asked, clearly not believing whatever Pan had said.

"I'm saying everyone's where I want them," Pan proudly smirked.

Stiles heard a rustle. He turned again but didn't see brush and trees like he had only a moment ago. He saw his Jeep and a woman crying. Regina.

"I'm so so sorry," she cried. She was holding something. A locket. His locket.

Stiles blinked, shaking his head, confused.

The scene changed. This time he was on the side of a dark road, alone. He looked down to see a baby girl.

The baby slowly disappeared and turned into a boy.

"PAPA!" The boy screamed.

"Mischief," a familiar voice said yet it was far too distant for  Stiles to focus on it.

The scene changes once again into a wedding. His 'mother' was there. She wore a black head piece with a black dress to match. A couple stared frightened along with everyone else.

"Mischief, you need to come back," a calm voice said but he again didn't listen.

Events danced across Stiles eyes, blocking the outside world. The only thing connecting him to said world was that little calm voice.

Stiles slowly came back to reality. The voice guiding him through memories, good and bad alike.

"You need to open your eyes," the voice was much clearer and louder. Stiles opened his eyes and came face to face with piercing green eyes, Pan's eyes.

Stiles was sitting against a tree, with Pan right in front of him, cupping Stiles' face with his hands. Stiles' breathing was hard and shallow.

"Shhh," Pan hushed, bringing Stiles' face into his chest. embracing and shocking Stiles. "You're ok." Pan placed his hand on the back of Stiles neck. A sense of calmness washed over Stiles. The duo stayed like that for several minutes until Stiles breathing was normal. Pan pulled Stiles from his chest, Stiles immediately missing the warmth. Pan's hands were brought back onto the sides of Stiles' face as his eyes scanned him.

"What-" Stiles huffed, confusing evident on his face.

"Sh," Pan's eyes scanned over their surroundings, Stiles doing the same. They were alone in the campsite. No Henry. No Neal. No lost boys. "You need sleep." Pan refocused on Stiles' face. Stiles full heartedly agreed. He was exhausted. His brain was mush and he was practically falling asleep right then and there. But he couldn't. Henry was gone. Neal was gone. "It would be easier if I carry you." Before Stiles could protest, Pan picked him up bridal style and started walking.

"No." Stiles' voice broke as he tried to push himself away from Pan.

"Henry." Stiles continued to push away from Pan but Pan only tightened his grip. "Neal."

"Safe." Pan vaguely answered.

"If they're with you then they're anything but safe," Stiles said, once again pushing against Pan. Huffing, Pan set Stiles down but placed his hands on Stiles' face.

"Mischief," Pan said, making eye contact once again. "Sleep."

"Ha! Nice try..." And just like that, Stiles eyelids closed and went into a dreamless sleep.

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