Hi, guys! So, I was going to write a Klaroline story but I couldn't get into it so I decided to put it on the back burner for now. This is not another Being Lost Chapter. This is actually the first chapter in a new DarlingPan that focuses on Felix and is told in his POV. It takes place about ninety years after Going Back to Being Lost. So it's a sequel to that.

I hope you like it. Let me know if you do?

Thank You!

And thank you to tokkashipper on Tumblr for helping me decide if I want to do this or not. :)

I'll be reposting this in a new story if you like it enough! I need some name suggestions! This is really short, I know. I just wanted to post the rough idea.

It was pouring. The rain came down from the sky in sheets of water, blanketing the island in a cold hug. I couldn't remember the last time it had rained this hard. Sure, it had rained but it never had felt like the sky was falling and we were being sucked into the ocean.

I leaned against the edge of the cave, staying dry beneath the overhang. The middle of camp was deserted, the fire stomped out from the water, and the boys were all in their houses, probably playing games or planning their escape. I had learned over the years that when it rained this hard and Peter wasn't paying that much attention, they would all plan to leave the safety of their homes in favor of playing an island-wide version of man-hunt. The rain led to a more interesting game. The mud led to a messier one.

Of course, since Wendy had reappeared on the island permanently, Peter's attention was almost always astray. Not that I minded. It was good for Peter to have his attention focused on something other than the island. Wendy had changed him for the better. He was happy now. Even when they fought, he was happy. Wendy challenged him and frustrated him but he spoke no ill of her. Just words of love. Even when she would leave the island to spend time with her brothers, he would be supportive. I didn't think I would see the day when he offered to leave but he did, every time. And when he did, she would decline and say a polite 'maybe next time' because she knew he didn't really want to go and she was okay with that.

As much as he changed, so did she. When she had first arrived over a hundred years ago, she was innocent in every way and almost naïve. At the same time, she was a fire to the island. She made you think about things. She made you feel something. When Peter sent her away, she took everything with her. Even things that didn't belong to her like Peter's heart or my heart. She took the light with her. Now it's been close to one hundred years later and she brought back the light and luckily, it had become permanent. The threat of her leaving or Peter sending her away was gone. Peter wouldn't even think of sending her away nor her or leaving.

Her brothers passed away over the years and you could tell a part of her left with their souls. She visited them frequently over the years. She watched them age as she stayed the same. She watched their children age and now their children's children. She was a bystander in the cycle of life. I think a part of her was sad that she would never reach that moment. The moment where you watch your child grow up. She didn't let it show though. She was in charge of us all. The boys had become her children and she didn't have to watch them die.

I turned back towards the inside of the cave. Wendy was sitting on a small stool, weaving a needle into the fabric and back out. Her brown hair was messily tied back with a ribbon, acting as a curtain, revealing her beauty. Peter was reading a book next to her on the floor. His head was leaning against her thigh.

A pang of jealously always struck when I looked at the two of them, but it faded so quick it was as if it was just a ghost of an emotion passing through. Which it was. I had never admitted to my past feelings for her, but I knew she was aware of them. When Peter had admitted his feelings about her to me, I knew I never stood a chance. I saw the way they acted around each other. I had eyes.

It just became more apparent when Wendy returned with a book in hand: Peter Pan. A man had written a tale about Peter's adventures with the lost boys. I was casually mentioned. Wendy and her brothers held more of an appearance. I was shocked when I read it. How did he know so much? Peter told us he had met a man on one of his escapades and he talked with him.

How stupid of him.

Wendy was flattered. Despite her annoyance that she was clearly the victim in the story, she was happy to just be immortalized on paper.

Peter flashed onto his feet and Wendy jolted back. He was flashing in and out as he walked with intent to the table with the map laid out.

"What is it?" I asked him as I met him at the table. His eyes were searching the parchment. Wendy joined us, touching his arm lightly.

"Peter?" She asked quietly. Her concern was thick in her tone.

He suddenly touched the edge of the map near Skull Island. "There is someone here." He looked over at me. His eyes were wide. They looked like they were touched with fear.

"Who?" I asked, frustrated. He needed to tell me the level of threat. We had been through enough that we could defeat this person if need be.

He turned back to the map as a little black circled formed around the spot he had pointed at. Black was not good. Dangerous.

"A girl." He breathed.

It wasn't the fact that it was girl that bothered him. Wendy's arrival clearly worked out well. It was because he knew this girl. He only knew who arrived if he had met them before. If there was a connection between them.

"A girl?" Wendy's face lit from her new sparked excitement. A girl on the island to be friends with her was probably on her list of goals. I wasn't sure why, Tinkerbell didn't work out well.

Peter ignored her. He kept his eyes on mine. "Lola."

Peter didn't know her, I did.