Chapter Sixteen

When Mallory woke up that next morning, she had almost forgotten about her chat with Tinker Bell the previous night. But it all came rushing back to her as she descended the tree, to the camp below, and spotted a new face by the firepit.

Wrapped up in a red plaid jacket, the boy looked younger than her, maybe about twelve years old. He had round cheeks under a mop of brown hair, making him seem even younger to Mallory. There was a sweet naivete in his hazel eyes as he blinked around, taking in Never Land with a kind of wonder that didn't exist on any other boy's face. That's how Mallory knew, right away, that this had to be Henry.

"Unbelievable," Mallory said under her breath. The fairy had been right. Pan had brought someone new. But Pan himself was nowhere to be seen, so Mallory didn't meander too long before walking towards the fire pit.

He looked up when she approached, eyes going wide with surprise. "I didn't know there were Lost Girls in Never Land."

Mallory, who hadn't necessarily been planning on talking to Henry right away, fixed him with a look out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't sure if she could trust Henry. Pure of heart or not, if he had something to do with Pan's great scheme, she had to be careful. Mallory had wanted to size him up first, but apparently that wasn't going to happen. "I'm not a Lost Girl."

"Then why are you here?" The boy she presumed to be Henry asked.

"I'm looking for my brother," Mallory replied. Turning to face him fully, she tilted her head and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm Henry!" the boy said, and stuck out his arm, hand towards her. Mallory hesitated before shaking it. "Henry Mills. I'm from Storybrooke, Maine, but now I'm here. What's your name?"

"I'm Mallory Farthing," she said, shoulders relaxing a little once her suspicions were confirmed. She didn't know Henry, but somehow she had this feeling that she could trust him. There was something innocent in his face, an honesty that she liked about him. "I'm from California. Storybrooke sounds even farther away than Never Land to me."

"Yeah, maybe," Henry said with a nod of his head, like he understood. "Magic works funny in Storybrooke. Wait, did you say California? I heard a famous actress lives there, her last name is Farthing, too."

"Helena Farthing." Mallory answered, with a certain lack of enthusiasm. Damn, she had forgotten how much she hated to be recognized like this. "I'm her daughter."

"Wow!" Henry grinned. "Regina — my mom, I mean — loves her movies. It must be so cool to have a mom like yours!"

"Not really."

Her tone was curt, and Henry's face fell, perhaps sensing that the topic of Helena Farthing was not Mallory's favorite. A little ashamed of herself for her lack of tact, Mallory shifted her gaze to the fire crackling before them. In an effort to change the subject, she said, "Henry, do you know why you're here?"

She looked back to see Henry shrug helplessly. "Peter Pan took me. Or, well, some helpers of his did. They weren't very smart, they didn't even know who they were working for. They wanted to destroy Magic, but that didn't work."

"Right." Mallory nodded slowly, frowning a little. She had never heard of Storybrooke, and Henry's tale had taken a turn she hadn't been expecting. There were people out there, in the real world, who wanted to destroy Magic? Mallory had no idea anyone else outside her own family even knew it was real to begin with. "What happened to them?"

"Not sure. I got away from them when we showed up on Neverland. Then Peter found me." Henry replied, with a shrug that seemed to indicate he wasn't taking this is seriously as Mallory thought he should. "I guess I'm important somehow. I don't want to be here, but I don't know how to leave."

Mallory fixed him a quizzical look, dropping down to a crouch so they were eye-to-eye. "Aren't you afraid?"

"No," the boy chirped with a small smile, raising his chin confidently. "My family will know I'm missing, and they'll come for me. My moms, they'll find me. I just know they will."

"Wow," Mallory's eyebrows shot up. She had to admit, she was impressed. It wasn't just the boy's confidence that struck her, but also the undying faith in his parents. "Wish I could say the same about my mother. But she doesn't know I'm here. Or Mathias. That's why I had to come, to take him back."

"You came here on your own?" Henry looked awed. "Peter didn't bring you?"

Mallory smirked. "Peter Pan doesn't control everything, Henry."

Henry blinked, then started to smile. He had just opened his mouth to say something, however, when another voice cut through the air.

"Well, well, well! Looks like Mallory's made a new friend!" Pan's voice was instantly recognizable to Mallory now, and she couldn't help but cringe a little. Standing, her face was warm, and Mallory wondered why she felt guilty, as though she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

She turned to face him; Pan towered over the Lost Boys, standing on top of his throne with his arms crossed and wearing that everlasting smirk. Mallory withheld the desire to punch him. Instead, she tilted her head and smiled, hands on her hips. "Why, yes, Pan, I did! Henry's been nothing but a total gentleman.

"A gentleman?" Pan cocked an eyebrow, before hopping to the ground. He strutted over to Henry, who scrambled to his feet at Pan's approach. "Well, that won't do at all, will it? There are no gentlemen here on Never Land! Just pirates, scoundrels, and thieves!"

"And a girl," he added as an afterthought, with a glance to Mallory.

"Hmph," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

Back to Henry, Pan opened up his arms in challenge, beginning to walk around him. Henry turned on the spot, watching Pan as he said, "So, Henry, do you have what it takes to be a Lost Boy?"

"I-I think so," Henry stuttered, tripping over his own shoe as Pan continued to circle him. Mallory wasn't sure why Henry was going along with it, when he didn't want to be here. Maybe he just wanted to fit in?

"You think so?" Pan repeated, and Mallory felt a muscle in her eye twitch. Over half the camp was watching them now, waiting to see what Pan would do next. Something was definitely up. "Well, I'm going to need a lot more than that, Henry. Not just anyone can be a Lost Boy, you know. Only the bravest, most loyal can join us. Are you brave, Henry?"

Henry stood a little taller, puffed up his chest. "Of course! All the best heroes have to be brave."

"Did you hear that, boys?" Pan called out, as a few snickers spread through the camp. "This young lad thinks he's a hero! Unfortunately," Pan smiled, something cold and calculating as he looked back down at Henry. "There aren't any heroes on Neverland, either."

Mallory recognized what Pan was doing immediately. It was the same thing he did to her when she first arrived on the island. Walking in circles to confuse and intimidate. Intimidating her, testing her. Only Mallory was a big girl, she wasn't so easily scared. Henry, on the other hand…

"What?" Henry asked, his enthusiasm starting to die a little, replaced by a much more familiar expression: fear. Exactly what Pan wanted. "Why aren't there any heroes?"

"Because they don't belong here, of course," Pan replied. He was behind Henry at that point, and to emphasize his words, gave Henry a little push. Henry, not seeing it, stumbled forward, caught by surprise. "I have no patience for heroes or do-gooders — they ruin all the fun! Being good is so boring. You're not boring, are you, Henry? Because the only way to have fun is to break the rules."

"Um," Henry said, his eyes casting down with uncertainty. He looked so small, and Pan nearly towered over him. And they were in the Lost Boy camp, surrounded by Pan's minions, while Mallory had been alone on the beach with him. Pan had seemed a lot more manageable then, even after Mallory discovered who he was. Henry shrunk away whenever Pan got too close, hugging himself. It was clear that as kind and good-hearted Henry seemed to be, he had no defense to Pan's cruelty. "I don't think so. I know how to have fun. I broke the rules all the time at home."

Mallory's eyebrows shot up at that. This little kid, a troublemaker? No way. She'd seen kittens with more ferocity than Henry.

Pan looked equally surprised — even shared a look with Mallory, as if to make sure this wasn't just him. Then he turned back to Henry with a grin, "Well, that's good to hear! What do you say, boys, you think Henry is up for a challenge? You can't join the Lost Boys until you've proven your worth."

A cheer went up in the camp, Lost Boys raising their fists in the air. It was like watching a bully - or rather, a group of them - push around younger kids on the playground. Pan knew he had all the power, all the fear to control and play with as he saw fit. Henry was just another boy in over his head.

Pan's grin only got bigger. He continued to circle Henry, hands behind his back. "What do you say, Henry? Ready for some fun?"

Henry, eyes flicking about the Lost Boys with growing apprehension, could only nod his head dumbly. When his eyes met Mallory's, he almost certainly looked scared.

"The true measure of a Lost Boy should be revealed through a duel." Pan asked to the camp at large. "Felix! A sword for our hero, if you please."

The grim boy appeared out from the shadow of a tree right next to Mallory — it made her jump. How long had Felix been there? Had he been watching the whole time?

Felix, face hard as ever, pulled his sword from its sheath and tossed it to Pan, who caught it by the hilt. The sword, while perfectly sized for a teenaged boy like them, was far too big for Henry, who nearly dropped it when Pan handed it to him. He was still trying to get a hold of it as Pan stepped back. At first she thought the duel would be between Pan and Henry, but she would be sorely mistaken - no, it was Felix who now stepped forward, standing in front of Henry with another sword in hand.

Pan was already retreating to his throne, the best seat in the house to watch the show. What was he thinking? Felix was even bigger than Pan, and almost twice as tall as Henry. Even an idiot could see it was an unfair match. It soon became clear to her that Pan was doing this for his own amusement, Henry an easy target for humiliation.

The Lost Boys, however, didn't seem to care. They whooped and chanted, clearing back to make an empty ring around the two boys and the fire, giving them enough space to fight. Henry looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Well, Henry," Pan said, he lounged in his seat, looking mighty pleased with himself at this arrangement. "I hope you know the rules to dueling."

"N-not really," Henry winced. Felix stepped back, falling into a ready position with his sword raised.

Peter Pan smirked. "Then I guess you'll just have to learn the hard way."

Forever on the receiving end of cruel jokes and the rumors of so-called friends, she was not about to let Pan get away with it.

"Come on, Pan, leave him alone," Mallory tried calling over the chanting and noise, but it was so loud they just drowned her out. Henry, the only one who could've seen her speak, seemed frozen, unable to move — the sword was too big for him, and he could barely lift it.

When Felix only advanced on Henry, Mallory lunged forward without thinking. Felix was closest to her, so her reaction was immediate, instinctual. Her hands slammed into his back - with a sharp oof! , Felix stumbled backwards, falling on face-first into the dirt. Henry gasped.

Turning her glare on Pan, Mallory stepped forward and shouted, "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

This time, her words rang through the clearing, catching everyone by surprise - even Mallory herself, who'd just attacked a boy who was much bigger than her. The Lost Boys directly next to her suddenly jumped back, startled. Mallory herself was a little surprised by her own strength, fueled by her anger. A raucous call of ' Oooo!' Rose up from the Lost Boys, impressed by Mallory's underhanded blow. Felix certainly looked the fool, having been caught off guard.

Felix, silent as ever, was already getting up and looking downright murderous, reaching for his fallen sword, as if he intended to attack Mallory. But he hadn't even stood when Pan raised a hand, calling him to a halt, and saving Mallory a breath of relief. If Pan wasn't there, she was sure Felix would've slit her throat.

But the dark, inquisitive look in Pan's eyes made her forget Felix instantly, as the King of Neverland stepped down from his throne to stand in the center of the clearing, between Mallory and Felix. He tilted his head at her, waiting for the Lost Boys to quiet before saying, "And who would that be, Mallory? You ?"

Mallory swallowed. This was her trump card; she knew Pan well enough that he couldn't resist a challenge, especially in front of an audience. Of course, that meant putting her own life on the line. But Pan wasn't focused on Henry anymore, and that was exactly what she needed.

Sometimes, Pan could be predictable — a fact that almost made her smile. "At least I can fight back."

Another chorus of "Ooo"s, and Pan's smirked, shoulders going slack as though he were unafraid of the threat. But Mallory noticed the way his eyes narrowed, disliking her unrelenting defiance. Well, he was sure in for something, wasn't he?

"Well, well," he drawled, glancing at Felix over his shoulder, holding out his hand. "Looks like Mallory knows how to have some fun, too. What do you say, boys? Should I accept this challenge?"

Mallory already knew he had, but at the approving cheer of the Lost Boys, there was no backing out of it now, for either of them.

Felix handed him his sword, and Mallory quickly stepped back. She was suddenly very aware of her own saber in her grip, her palm starting to get a little clammy. Mallory couldn't remember the last time she'd been in a sword fight — her last fencing class had been months ago, and they certainly weren't as carefree about the rules as Pan was.

Before he could do anything else, she said, "And what are the terms?"

Peter squinted at her, testing the sword in his hand. "Terms?"

"Yeah, you know, the terms," Mallory said, shrugging her shoulders. "You can't have a duel without terms. Whoever wins, gets something they want. And the loser has to pay. Every good duel has them. It's what makes it exciting."

Pan ruminated on this for a second, but finally nodded, convinced. "All right, sure. And what are your terms, Mallory?"

She already knew what she wanted. "If I win, you tell me where my brother is."

Almost instantly, she wondered if that was the right thing to say. Maybe Mallory should have asked for something else — that Pan plays fair, that he stops picking on Henry. But what good would that do? Just show Pan that Henry is a weak spot for her? That she has a sudden strange interest in the boy? She didn't want to give away to Pan that she was onto his secret scheme. Pan already knew Mallory was here for her brother; might as well play on that. Mallory could protect Henry on her own.

Pan smiled, apparently expecting that response. "Fine. But if I win, you have to give me something important."

"Like what?" Mallory gripped her sword a little tighter. She didn't have much to give in the first place — she certainly didn't want to hand over her only weapon to Pan.

"I don't know," Pan shrugged with an air of nonchalance. So he didn't want her sword, he just wanted to make Mallory's life a pain. "Something special, something that means something important to you."

"I don't really have anything like that." Mallory said, which was more or less the truth. Or so she thought.

Pan smiled a little, tilting his head as if doubting her. "Are you sure about that, Malzipan? Surely there's something you can't bear to part with, something you'd only give to someone very special to you. And maybe not even then. What do you say, boys? What's something special Mallory can give me?"

There were a number of suggestions that were called out — mostly ones Mallory expected, like her sword. But it was one voice in particular that stood out, that caught her by surprise.

"How about a kiss?" Henry offered, his voice frighteningly clear.

Mallory shot him an astounded look. "WHAT."

Pan laughed, and Henry only offered a helpless shrug. "What? My mom says kisses are special. A kiss of true love can break any spell."

"Excellent idea, Henry!" Peter Pan crowed, looking especially pleased — although that might be because he saw Mallory's expression and reacted accordingly.

While another roar of approval went up, Mallory turned to Henry and hissed, "What are you thinking? I don't have a kiss of true love! Especially not for him !"

"Sorry!" Henry winced, throwing up his hands. "It just popped into my head. I didn't think Pan would take it seriously."

Indeed, Pan was not. As he soaked in the Lost Boys' glee, Mallory could tell the 'true love' part wasn't the kicker for him. No, he just knew that a kiss disgusted her, and wanted it just to spite her.

"Well, I consider the terms agreeable," Pan said, bringing Mallory's attention back to him. "What say you, Mallory?"

"Fine," she muttered, falling back into a ready stance. This was not what she wanted, but she doubted she could convince Pan to change his terms. Unfortunately, even a kiss wasn't as bad as losing her sword, the only other thing she had to offer, and something Pan might not even accept. Mallory wasn't going to give him the extra bait, either, by asking. All she added was, "The duel ends at first blood."

It was almost impressive, how quickly the tables had turned. Henry had initially came across as a little naive — Mallory had underestimated just how much. The things she did to protect one dumb kid.

"Agreed," Pan said, reveling in the glare she fixed on him. That stupid smirk, those glittering eyes. Mallory wasn't even worried about her own prowess anymore. All she wanted was to kick his ass. "

They stood there, opposing each other with stoic expressions, for one long second. The Lost Boys quieted, eyes wide as they waited. Felix stood there in the background, still looking like he wanted to kill Mallory. Henry was just out of her field of vision, trembling.

Then Pan struck forward.

Mallory stepped back, bringing up her blade to block his. She jerked her arm, shoving his sword aside, but Peter lunged again.

She dodged, and as Pan advanced, she twisted on the spot, keeping Pan in front of her. Mallory brought up her sword just as his stabbed forward. Metal clanged against metal as their blades met between them. Both Pan and Mallory froze for a moment, now standing in reverse positions from where they started.

Pan was grinning. "You never told me you could swordfight."

"You never asked," Mallory shot back, then swung at him.

Her blow forced Pan to step back, barely able to parry her. He swung around, slashing again — his sword was of the classical type, symmetrical and double-edged, the kind a knight may wield, while Mallory's was a saber, a pirate's weapon, with a single sharp edge and slightly curved blade. Peter's could be held with two hands. Her's could not. Already she could feel that he was stronger than her, able to put more force behind his blows than she could.

But Mallory wasn't defenseless. Her muscle memory proved reliable - fencing was also one-handed, and Mallory was used to much quicker, much sharper blows with smaller blades. Pan, with his larger sword, felt so slow in comparison. As they traded blows, Pan's movements seemed almost telegraphed. She could see where his blows would land before he made them.

Her ankle was a problem. As was her wrist. But Mallory held her sword in her other hand, made sure that Pan never got too close to hitting either. It hurt, certainly, but at this point she was so worked up it wasn't registering anymore.

Their blades flashed in the warm firelight, red hot and burning yellow. Pan kept swiping for her legs, her arms, but Mallory was too quick, stepping back, ducking out of the way for blows too powerful for her to block.

Her own strikes were fueled by her incredible desire — not to lose, above all else. Mallory almost didn't care about finding her brother, so long as she didn't end up kissing Pan.

Then the edge of his sword slipped a little too close to her cheek. Mallory gasped, whipped her head back just in time. She reminded herself not to be so petty — acting like this was exactly what Pan wanted. She couldn't let him get on her nerves, distract her from her true purpose here in Neverland.

Forward strike. Backhand block. Side thrust. Swipe and parry. Mallory was always moving, always on her toes — so unlike fencing, in which matches were over in seconds, in which duelists slipped forward back by only inches. Fighting Pan was a whole 'nother game. It was a real duel.

Mallory hadn't necessarily quit fencing so much as she sort of lost interest in it. After winning a championship and getting absolutely no recognition for it from her mother, who didn't even attend the event, Mallory realized that her entire reason to learn how to fence had been for nothing. It didn't matter that she was good at a unique sport, it didn't matter that she had accolades that Matthias did not. It wouldn't make up for the fact that she still wasn't like them. Nothing could ever make up for it.

And it wasn't just fencing, either. Mallory had tried other things, equally as impressive or difficult. Equestrian, chess club, debate, sailing — although a little high-brow and filled with other rich kids who didn't all take it as seriously as Mallory, all had their challenges to overcome. All were competitive in some way or another. Mallory liked that, surprisingly, the competition. But it was never the reasons she joined up to begin with.

And she hated herself for it. As she tried to catch Pan's shoulder, Mallory thought of all the things she did to make her mother proud of her. That just because Mallory didn't have Magic, she was somehow less.

But it never worked. After a while, Mallory grew fed up with each activity - each seemed so pointless. She never really made friends because it had never occurred to her to make some, she had been so focused on her end goal. The only friend she had, Felicity, had almost been an accident. Mallory accidentally went to a theater group in the park when she meant to meet her track team. Felicity had been friendly, made Mallory appreciate the art of acting for a little bit.

"Damn, Mallory," Pan grunted, when she slammed blades together so hard they sparked and vibrated. Pan had to stumble back to avoid her blade slipping and cutting him. "Where's all this anger coming from? Something eating at you?"

And with that, he slid past her, his foot hooking around her ankle. Before Mallory could react, Pan jerked her leg out from underneath her, and she went down hard on her stomach. Mallory let out a grunt, before quickly rolling over - and just in in time, too, before Pan could stab her shoulder.

He swung his blade down again, and Mallory brought hers up, bringing it horizontally across her chest before he hit her. The blade came inches to her chin, just over her neck.

"Shut up," she snapped, before swiping her leg. Pan, who had been standing over her, went down with a yelp.

And now she was here, in Neverland, fighting a boy from a fairy tale. All in the hopes of finding her brother. All in the hopes of finally, finally getting her mother's approval.

Mallory was back on her feet in an instant — but so was Peter, who perhaps sensed history repeating itself and wasn't going to let her return the favor. They faced off each other again, now covered in dirt and panting. Pan was starting to look annoyed now. Maybe he didn't expect them to be so evenly matched; a far cry from the earlier match between Felix and Henry.

The Lost Boys, however, were loving it. Every once and awhile Mallory caught a glimpse of Barnaby-Twigs in the corner of her eye, watching with a rapt expression, jaw hanging open. It was hard to say whose side anyone was on, although Mallory could bet at least most of them were on Pan's side.

And yet more than a few seemed pleased whenever Mallory got a little too close, when Pan made the occasional slip. Felix was just on the edge of the circle, ready to step in at any moment, in case Mallory crossed the line.

Pan struck again.

Clash . Mallory flinched, bringing up her blade just in time. But her hand was sweaty from exertion, exhaustion. The saber twisted in her hand. Pan's blade swept over the hilt and across her hand.

A hiss went up her throat as she felt the hot pain as the blade cut through her skin. Malloy grit her teeth, clenched her grip, and wrenched her saber up and around, flipping around Pan's blade.

With a collective gasp, the Lost Boy's watched as the sword was flung from Pan's grip. Mallory had disarmed him. She raised her blade at him.

Pan stepped back, hands raised, but not in surrender. Half of his face was covered in dirt. There was a bruise where he'd fallen, but not bad enough to end the fight. He smiled, held up one finger as Mallory drew close. "Ah, ah, Mallory. Your hand."

She clenched her jaw. Mallory already knew about her hand. She could see it in front of her, holding Pan at the end of her blade. She'd lost, fair and square.

That was probably the worst part. Had Pan cheated, then at least Mallory would feel vindication. She wouldn't have to agree to their terms, since Pan had already proven his dishonor. But that hadn't happened. No, Mallory lost because she slipped up.

With a huff, she dropped the saber. The tip drew a line in the dirt. Her voice was low, words reluctant. "Congratulations, Pan. You win."

Pan threw up his arms as the Lost Boys roared. She despised that triumphant look on his face. "Well, deal's a deal, Mallory. Now where's my kiss?"

Just those words. Mallory closed her eyes, summoning every ounce of strength, of patience within her. Pan's attitude, that expectation, entitlement — she hated it. And yet she knew she'd be just like that, if she won; demanding answers that had been held from her for too long. If only she had been a little faster.

"Come on, Mallory, those were the terms," Pan chided, knowing without asking that Mallory was already having second thoughts.

"I know," she said under her breath. Of course, what made it worse was the fact that everyone was watching her. The Lost Boys had gone quiet again. It took Mallory to notice their expressions — not expectant, as Pan was, but almost a sort of wariness. Then she remembered: most of them were young, preteens. She still remembered how they first welcomed her here. A kiss would be about as well received.

She wondered, for a moment, what Pan thought of it. As Mallory stepped forward, each foot feeling like lead, she wondered what it would mean for Pan. Because Mallory had never kissed someone before. True Love kisses were special — but so were, in a way, first kisses, too. At least, they were to Mallory.

Of course, Pan had no idea. And she wasn't going to tell him.

Coming to a stop just in front of him, Mallory fixed Pan with a cold look. And then, before she could overthink it, leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek.

A Lost Boy gagged. Mallory was already stepping back, trying to suppress the rising heat in her cheeks. But Pan grabbed her arm as she started to turn away. "Oh, come on. I deserve a little more than that!"

Mallory paused, looked him up and down, wrinkling her nose. "Then you should've fought better."

The Lost Boys exploded with a chorus of "Oooh!" and "Buuuuuurn!" and one particular "Damn, son!" While Peter was so taken aback that he did nothing when Mallory wrenched her arm out of his grip.

"Now, if you don't mind," she said, using her saber to lean again. "I'm going to sit down and hope I didn't make my ankle even worse, dealing with you."

Pan stared at her, smile gone. That dangerous flash in his eyes again — gone the next moment as he tossed his head and gave a derisive snort. "Girls," He declared to his Lost Boys. "Completely irrational creatures."

Mallory just threw him a dirty look, but Pan was already walking away.

And then everything was back to normal. The Lost Boys went back to their various tasks, as if they hadn't just watched some tense duel and a kiss and some traded barbs. Pan had disappeared, perhaps to nurse his bruised ego. Henry was already back to sitting on his log, staring into the fire. Mallory, not really knowing what else to do with herself, sat down next to him.

She stared into the fire. Somehow, it wasn't as bad as she thought. Sure, her hand hurt, but Mallory found herself not as mad about losing as she thought. Pan's terms hadn't been bad, considering her interpretation of them. She just wished she won. That she had gotten something more meaningful out of it.

"Thanks, by the way," Henry's voice broke through her thoughts, and Mallory cast him a surprised look. Henry smiled at her. "You didn't have to do that."

Mallory snorted, looked back into the fire. "Yeah, I did. Pan shouldn't treat people like that."

"Well, no one else did what you did, Mallory," Henry pointed out. "You reminded me of my mom, actually. Emma. She'd do what you do."

"I thought her name was Regina."

"I have two moms," Henry explained. "Regina used to be the Evil Queen, but she's better now. Emma's the hero, she stands up for everyone. She's the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, and also has the kiss of true love, that broke the spell in Storybrooke and restored everyone's memories of the Enchanted Forest. She has a magic more powerful than anyone's ever seen before. Even more powerful than Rumpelstiltskin's!"

Mallory stared at him for a long moment. "You say some really weird things, you know that, right?"

Henry looked a little affronted. "What? It's the truth! Emma really did that. She's the Chosen One!"

"Sure, kid, sure," Mallory laughed, deciding not to argue the point. She had no idea what fairy tales Henry believed in, but they seemed to give him hope, and Mallory didn't want to compromise that. "Emma's the Chosen One and she's, what, gonna come here and save you?"

"Yep!" Henry said with a confident nod of his head. "Just you wait. They'll be here any day now. Hey, maybe we can take you home, too."

That actually wasn't a bad idea. "Sure, Henry. But, hey, can you do me a favor? Can you keep an eye out for my brother, Matthias?"

"Yeah, sure," Henry said. The fire turned his face a funny shade of orange, turning his pupils gold. He certainly looked like a kid who'd believe in Magic. "What does he look like?"

"He's tall, blond, has blue eyes," Mallory explained, pointing to her face. "Looks a little bit like me, with freckles. But he's older, twenty-one. He's here because of Pan."

"Twenty-one?" Henry repeated, somewhat doubtful. He glanced around the camp, frowning. "I don't think there's anyone here that old, Mallory. Are you sure he's here?"

"Positive," Mallory said, then sighed. She knew it would be a long shot. "Just keep an eye out, okay? I'm not sure where Pan is keeping him, but I know he's hiding him from me. If you see anything, let me know."

"I promise," Henry said with such fervor that Mallory found it adorable. "Peter's wrong, you know. There's heroes on Neverland."

"Really?" Mallory threw him a funny look. "Who?"

"You, of course!" Henry said, punching her lightly on the arm, as if Mallory were playing dumb.

"Me? Pfft," Mallory just shook her head with a short laugh. "No way, I'm no hero. I'm just trying to find Matty and go home. That's it."

"You'd be surprised," Henry said, bowing his head a little to whisper with a conspiratorial smile. "But I think that's exactly what a hero would say."

"Oh, knock it off," Mallory laughed, pushing Henry away jokingly. He was just making fun of her now. Acting like she was one of those characters from the Enchanted Forest or whatever. It took a lot more than a stupid decision and a sword to make someone a hero. And Mallory, of all people? Please.

A/N: NGL, totally imagined the 'He's a Pirate' song from the POTC movies playing during Pan and Mallory's fight.