I do not own any of Once Upon a Time's characters or content.

italics = flashbacks

"So that's it?" the savior questioned as she paced the small camp that the group had set up for the night, "There is no way to defeat Pan? No way to get Henry back?"

The group from Storybrooke sat scattered around a fire in the center of the camp. Emma paced behind Mary-Margaret and David, glaring at the forest ground in her frustration. The Charmings' eyes followed her movements, worried about their daughter, and the ex-Evil Queen sat glaring up at the woman who had gotten her son kidnapped by some supposedly demonic boy, whom she refused to believe was more powerful than not only herself, but the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin.

Captain Hook, who had been staring desolately at his flask of rum twirling idly in his hand, looked up at the distressed savior with a sigh, opening his mouth to speak. "Not even the crocodile himself stands much of a chance against the demon's power, lass," he paused, considering his next words carefully, unsure if he would regret divulging the information. "However", he started, making the Charmings', Emma included, perk up, "like all villains, whether or not they like to admit it, he has a weakness."

They all, even Regina, who had taken an interest in the conversation at the prospect of a way, by any means at all, of getting her son back safely from Pan's clutches, sat waiting for him to continue, but he simply unscrewed the lid on his flask and took a swig, oblivious to the disbelieving looks from the rest of the rescue party.

"Well? What's his weakness?" Regina demanded after a pregnant pause, glaring at the pirate, annoyed that he was not taking the search for her son more seriously.

Swallowing the alcohol, he met Emma's hopeful eyes as he blandly spoke, "A girl."

David, his face a mask of disbelief that mirrored on the other three's faces, repeated slowly, "A girl?"

"Aye," Hook said, beginning to stare into the fire, not bothering, once again, to elaborate.

Captain Hook sat in the captain's quarters of the Jolly Roger, staring at the unconscious young girl lying on his bed and waiting for the magic to wear off. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he examined the face of the girl, knowing that he was involving an innocent in his war against Pan. He comforted himself with the notion that it was a necessary evil to become victorious over the immortal boy. The sound of a groan and a quiet 'what happened?' pulled him from his thoughts.

He looked up from his lap, seeing the girl blinking the last of the forced sleep from her eyes, pulling herself into a sitting position, and looking around confused, her eyebrows pulled together. That was until her eyes landed on him in a chair the door. "Hook," she said immediately, her violet-blue eyes wide with both surprise and recognition.

The captain winced at the use of his moniker, but quickly recovered, a smirk coming to his face. "Morning sunshine, have a good nap?" he questioned sarcastically.

The girl's lip curled at the comment, her eyes narrowing. "To what do I owe the pleasure, pirate?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

He was about to answer, his smirk falling off his face, when a shouted, urgent sounding 'Captain!' came from above deck. He stood, giving a quiet 'excuse me' towards the girl, who moved to get up and follow him. He made it out first, locking the door from the outside and heading up the stairs before she could follow, ignoring the shouting at the door behind him.

All the sailors stood in a semi-circle, swords and weapons poised towards a boy in green standing in the middle of the deck, a furious expression marring his usually smug and mischievous face. Hook smirked, knowing by the sheer amount of anger in his eyes, that Pan was beyond outraged and, for perhaps the first time, scared. He finally had the upper hand over the demon boy. The girl was key-the boy's weakness, the final piece to get his revenge on the boy and passage off this horrid island-so he that may get his revenge against the crocodile as well.

The conversation had ended there, Hook no longer willing to speak of the girl, telling them that they should rest up to ensure they could get an early start in the morning. The group agreed, albeit reluctantly– Regina looked as though she was planning his murder– and prepared to get some sleep their first night on the island.

Hours later, Emma awoke to the sound of cries, sorrowful wails from, what it sounded like, young boys. Getting to her feet, she looked around the camp to see if any of the others heard it, but everyone else seemed to be fast asleep in their allotted areas. "Guys," she whisper-shouted, trying to get their attention to no avail. Sighing, she turned towards the forest, cautiously entering to look for the source and following the sound farther into the trees.

"You hear them too?" a voice inquired from behind her. She gave a startled gasp, raising her sword and spinning around to face a young boy, around seventeen years of age, leaning against a tree a few feet away staring at her. She looked him up and down, assessing the threat, when he spoke once more.

"You're Emma, right?" he paused, taking a step closer to her (and the tip of her sword), before continuing, "I wonder why they can't hear the crying," he said, putting on a confused mask to match his tone.

Tense, her eyes narrowed, the blonde asked a reasonable question. "Who are you?"

The boy put on a mock surprised face, his eyebrows raised slightly. "Oh, did I forget to introduce myself? I'm Peter. Peter Pan," his lip turned up slightly as he finished speaking.

Emma immediately sprang into action, spinning the sword to the side and shoving Pan against a tree behind him, holding the blade to his throat. Pan simply smirked as she held him in place, oddly at ease despite the weapon held to his neck.

"Where's Henry?" she asked, her face serious as she stared at the boy.

"You've got fire," he said with a smirk, "I like fire."

"Where is my son?" she reiterated with more anger, ignoring his comment.

"He's still alive if that's what you're worried about."

"Why the hell did you take him?"

"He's a very special boy, Emma."

"I know, that doesn't answer my question. What do you want with him?"

Once again avoiding her question, Pan stated, "I came here to see what I was up against, 'The Savior', got to say, I am not disappointed." Emma looked unimpressed with the proclamation.

"What are you going to say now? Going to tell me how I'm never going to see Henry again?" She suspected that he had come to rub in her face the fact that she had no chance of winning. She didn't dare let on that Hook had told them of his weakness.

"No. I'm going to help you find him." Emma's face obviously showed that she didn't trust him as he continued to explain, "I'll give you a map."

Emma, unsure if she should believe him or not, was willing to take the chance if it meant saving her son. She took the sword from his throat, though still held it out ready to strike if necessary, and took a few steps back to put distance between them. Pan reached into his shirt, pulling out a piece of parchment. "A map," he said, "that will lead you straight to your son."

"If this is some kind of trap-," she started only to stop as the teen began to chuckle quietly. "I may not be the most 'well-behaved' boy on the island, but I always keep my promises. The path to finding Henry is on this parchment."

Emma slowly lowered the sword, inclining her chin toward the worn paper in his hand, inquiring "Why are you giving it to me?" remaining suspicious of his motives.

"See, it's not about finding Henry, it's about how you find him, and Emma, you're the only one who can." Emma, her narrowed eyes never once leaving his, reached out to take the folded parchment from him, only looking away to check that he wasn't lying by opening up the map.

"It's blank," she said not the least bit surprised.

Pan seemed unfazed. "You'll only be able to read that map when you stop denying who you really are," he informed her cryptically.

The savior's eyes flickered back down to the 'map' in her hands, examining it for a second before looking up, ready to continue questioning Pan, only to find that she was alone once more.

She had been trekking through the trees of Neverland, searching for the captain and the crew with whom she had been separated. As luck would have it, the cliff that she was walking along, trying to get a good vantage point to make her search easier, had an area of loose rocks that she so conveniently stepped on.

Crying out in surprise as her stomach suddenly lurched with the sensations of the fall, she uselessly flailed her arms in one last attempt to catch on to the sturdier portion of the cliff's edge.

She was free falling into a bay of some kind, the wind whistling in her ears as she fell, a piercing scream escaping her. Her eyes, watering from the wind that licked at them, raked over the blurry, quick-passing landscape of the island, calculating a way to not fall into the water, which she was, ironically, afraid of, despite her background of being on the seas.

Her body broke through the water, cold automatically engulfing her, and, against the currents moving towards the opening to the sea, she paddled her arms and legs to swim back to the surface, bubbles and water burning her eyes as her movements were wasted against the strength of the water. She was beginning to panic, believing she was going to drown, but nonetheless holding her breath to keep from filling her lungs with fluid. A hand grabbed onto her ankle, only freaking her out more, causing her to struggle harder the farther she was dragged downwards. She looked down at her captor, only to see long hair the color of the sun, and– the more defining characteristic– the turquoise-green tail that propelled the mermaid deeper into the water.

Her mind was starting to go blank as her lungs and brain screamed for oxygen, and her struggles became weaker as her muscles ached from her worthless attempts of staying alive. She was just losing consciousness when she felt a hand close around her bicep, and a brilliant light blinded her as the hand dragging her down fell away like it was burned. She drifted off into blackness at the feeling of ascending upwards, the hand guiding her becoming a supporting arm around her waist.

Pan teleported just outside of camp, walking the last few feet into the clearing that was the Lost Boys' current home. The sounds of the camp– the whooping of the boys as they stomped, played, and fought, the crackling of the large fire that sat in the center, the quiet talking from a few of the Neverland residents– wafted towards his ears, the conversation between two in particular catching his attention before he started towards the pair.

Off to one side, sitting on a log at the farthest point from the other boys, sat Pan's newest recruit, Henry Mills, talking, none too happily, with a young, raven-haired girl, her violet-blue eyes shining as she spoke to the new addition. Smirking, Pan strode up to the two, getting both their attentions when he was within a yard. Henry tensed as he eyed his kidnapper warily, while the girl, in contrast, seemed to relax even more, a bright smile gracing her beautiful face as she stared up at him.

Standing from the log, the girl smiled at Pan before looking down at Henry saying, "Remember what I said, Henry," her voice melodious as she reached down and ruffled the twelve-year-old's hair, causing Pan to glare at her hand at the show of affection. The girl, who had straightened, caught his look, rolled her eyes, bid Henry goodbye with a promise to talk again later, and started towards the fire, only pausing to shoot Pan a look that clearly said 'play nice' with no room for disobedience.

She continued, easily dodging the boys that danced around or sword fought until she made it to a log in front of the hearth, where a blonde haired boy sat staring at it, a long scar running diagonally down his face, which the hood of his cloak shadowed ominously. Stepping over the back of it, she placed a hand on his shoulder as she lowered herself to sit next to him.

"Why so glum, chum?" she asked after a short silence. "I mean, you are always so happy and cheery normally," she joked, elbowing the stoic boy who was even colder than usual.

Felix sighed as he turned his head to look at the girl, slowly drawling out his answer of "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, little sis."

Shaking her head, she replied, "You know what Peter is up to, and I've seen the scowl you keep giving Henry. Maybe you'd like to shed some light on what he's done to you?" she questioned, turning her head to look towards the place she had just left, meeting Pan's eyes and offering a smile as she continued, "he seemed nice enough, thought bad of Peter of course, and is a little suspicious, as expected. But, your behavior is a little odd."

She turned back towards him to find him staring resolutely at the fire, and she knew that she would not get an answer. Sighing worriedly, she reached out and gave his hand a squeeze before standing up and walking away, heading into the forest, needing to think.

She awoke sputtering and hacking up the liquid that she had been unable to stop from getting into her lungs, trying to make it easier to breathe, though each inhale and exhale burned her raw throat. She opened her heavy eyelids– near death experiences always took a lot out of her– and examined where she was.

It was obvious that she was still on the island, though it seemed she was now on a beach, if the sand and coastline were anything to go by. Her clothes were drenched, making her shiver, her dark wet hair sticking to her skin along with clumps of sand. She was looking around for her savior, when a voice spoke.

"You're alive then? Thought I was too late when you stopped breathing there for a little while." She turned towards the source of the accented voice, finding a young boy kneeling next to her, dressed in green and brown, his equally green eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at her. He was handsome, she thought as she looked him up and down, taking in that he had no weapon on him.

Her own eyes were wide, and she must have been staring for too long as he continued, a quiet chuckle escaping him, "What? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just mute? Normally girls just can't shut up, quite annoying if you ask me." Her striking eyes narrowed as her brain quickly caught up with what was happening, taking offense at his offhanded comment.

Head cleared enough, she finally spoke, "You-"she stopped to clear her throat as her voice came out raspy and broken. "You saved my life? But you-" she cleared her inflamed throat once more, "you're Peter Pan."