A/N: Bit of confrontation with Rumpel coming up (no surprise there), along with how Cassie finally ended up in Neverland...
The sound of drums pounded and the whoops of the Lost Boys rang out. Pan was fiddling with the set of pipes in his hands. He twirled them as he thought deeply about his next plan of action. Emma was slowly tearing apart, it wouldn't be long before she broke down completely. Henry would not be leaving with her. Neither would Andie. Hopefully getting almost killed by her daughter, would have finally solidified in the Saviour's head that Andie was his. She was not leaving Neverland. Now it was only Henry that he need worry about. Of course, Pan wasn't truly worried about how the game would play out. He knew he would win, he always did. But Henry's thoughts, his belief, were important components in the plan. He needed to ensure that Henry was clay in his hands before moving forward.
Pan's gaze drifted upwards and focused on the boy with his back turned to the celebration. Well that wouldn't do. Pushing himself to his feet, he made his way to Henry who sat all alone.
"You don't want to join in the celebration, Henry?" He queried as he sat down opposite.
"Nothing to celebrate." Henry responded numbly. The boy was almost there, almost at the stage when he'd give up hope of rescue. Soon, Henry would accept he was a Lost Boy.
"Nothing to celebrate?" Pan said sarcastically and chuckled. "Henry, this whole party is to celebrate you." A brief smile flashed on Henry's face. Quickly, the small boy regained his composure.
"Why does Cassandra hate me?" Henry's abrupt change in topic caught Pan off guard. He looked to Henry and saw how miserable he appeared. Evidently the small boy wasn't used to being disliked.
"Well put yourself in her shoes." Pan said, effortlessly recovering from his flustered state. "She never had a mother, the closest she ever had to one was a woman whom she loathed terribly for reasons that aren't mine to tell.
"Now take you," Pan continued. "You have not just one but two mothers. Both of which you believe, with a great ferocity, will save you." Henry's face dropped and Pan was glad he was getting through to the boy. "Andie's home is here, she knows the truth about parents and their priorities. The fact that her own brother would choose that life over her...well, it's heart-breaking wouldn't you say?"
"She thinks our mom abandoned her." Henry stated, his tone heavy.
"Well didn't she? You should know Henry, she abandoned you too."
"My mom didn't abandon me. Neither of them ever would. They'll come back for me, and for Cassandra." Henry said stubbornly. It seemed he was fixed on the idea that his parent's love would prevail. Pan however, could detect the slight cracks in his demeanour, deep down Henry was scared.
"Cassandra used to be like you, you know. When she was just a little girl. She learnt the hard way that sometimes, no matter how much you want something, you can't change the truth."
Henry was silent, taking in Pan's words. Pan watched Henry for a moment before he remembered the pipes and held them up.
"There's one thing that always cheered your sister up when I first met her. A little song." Holding the pipes to his lips, Pan blew into the tubes and out it came the music that all the Lost Boys could hear. Henry suddenly looked confused.
"Sorry, I can't hear anything." He said completely unaware of the implications of his words. Pan felt his calm mask slip. This was surprising information. Even after everything he just told Henry, he still clung to the hope that he was right about his family. Pan was irked at his own carelessness. He should have foreseen this, of course the Truest Believer would require more patience than that.
"Interesting." Pan's tone was thoughtful. "You see Henry, this pipe is enchanted. It can only be heard by certain children." Pan caught movement in the corner of his eye. He looked across the clearing to see an angry Felix march into the clearing and stare expectantly at him. Even at this distance Pan managed to catch a glimpse of the frustration and panic in the Lost Boy's eyes. Something had happened. Something had not gone according to plan.
"You'll find out soon enough, I promise." Pan said absent-mindedly to Henry, his thoughts elsewhere. Storming to his second in command, Pan's mind skimmed through possible scenarios. It was at this point he became aware that Andie wasn't in the camp. Worry bubbled within him. Was Felix's expression due to something revolving around Andie? Had something happened to her? A sudden moment of clarity took hold. Of course nothing had happened. This was Andie. His Andie. She could handle whatever life threw at her.
"What! I know that look, what happened?" Pan spat, not at all pleased there was something he didn't know.
"Baelfire. He got away."
"Well then why didn't you get him back?" Pan demanded though he had to admit, Felix's news dissolved a great weight in his chest. The absence of Andie's name filled him with relief. He was too distracted by this information that he wasn't as bothered by Baelfire's escape as he normally would be.
"I tried. I followed his trail and found two of our sentries knocked out...by a sleeping curse."
"The Dark One." Pan confirmed and suddenly a blot of panic shot through him. "Where's Andie?" His eyes frantically searched the clearing. There was no sign of her. He knew the girl could take care of herself for the most part, but if Rumpel found that she was working against him... putting Andie against an angry Dark One would be pushing the limits. And she was not someone whose life Pan wanted to gamble. He left Felix and strode back to Henry on the edge of camp.
"Where's Andie?" He asked not bothering to hide the urgency in his voice. Pan had seen the two talking earlier and so it seemed likely that Henry would know where she was. The boy looked up in surprise at Pan and twisted his body as his eyes roamed the camp.
"I dunno." He shrugged. "She left a while ago, didn't see where she went."
Pan stomped away from Henry without another word. Felix caught up with him, pulling the leader to a halt.
"Pan. She'll be fine. They can't take her from here. They won't even touch her if they know she's under your protection." Felix urged him to calm down. Pan's stressed mind eventually saw the truth in the his words. Bit by bit, Pan's tense demeanour deflated and he panted as he began to think clearly again.
"They'll be coming for the boy." Felix said after registering that Pan had relaxed.
"Now, now Felix. Where's your sense of adventure? We can't end the party when the real fun is about to begin." As he said this Pan couldn't quite rid himself of the worry that without Andie in his sight, something bad would happen to her.
///
___
The journey back to the bandit's hideout was pitch black. The night was cloudy, no moon or stars to light her way. Cassandra glided through the forest, effortlessly avoiding any trees. As she grew close to the hideout she spotted the traps that had been laid out. Almost seven years had been spent exploring this land, ever since she'd joined Bates' gang when she was ten. She knew her whereabouts like the back of her hand. Trapezing over the triggers, the blonde arrived at the entrance in one piece. She pulled open the camouflaged hatch and climbed down the hole, shutting the small door behind her.
Jeers were instantly heard as she delved deeper underground. The smell of alcohol burned her nose as she walked through the tunnels. She grimaced. Couldn't those rowdy men get drunk somewhere else? Light filled her eyes as the tunnel opened out into a circular cavern, torches lining the walls and the space teaming with drunkards. Passing through the crowded room, Cassandra's satchel was ripped from her.
"Hey!" She yelled, teeth bared.
"Calm yerself, Pan." The ugly man guffawed loudly. Cassandra had finally grown used to being addressed by that name. She hadn't wanted to tell them her real one, a name could give someone power. She didn't want to risk getting traced back to Nox orphanage, it was one of the reasons she'd allowed Bates to cut her hair so short. The less resemblance to her past self the better. She was no longer the same girl she had been and burying her history didn't seem like a bad idea. Plus, in a rough place like this, 'Pan' had a much better ring to it than 'Cassandra'.
Cassandra scoffed, these men never learned. She punched him across the jaw and kicked his kneecap harshly, causing him to grunt in pain. Before he had a chance to defend himself, she clamped onto his arm and slid under so it twisted as she came to a halt at his back. Wrenching the limb upwards, the bone almost snapped and Cassandra shoved the man to the floor. He dropped quickly, not wanting to his arm to break.
"You're pathetic." She hissed in his ear. She yanked his arm higher and grinned at the satisfying crunch. The man cried out and Cassandra released her hold, pacing around him. She slung the bag onto her shoulder and waltzed out of the room without a second glance.
Clearly her combat skills had increased over the years.
Making her way to their leader's office, Cassandra knocked boldly on the door. A low grunt came from inside and a few moments later the door swung open. Before her stood the vile man, who had the nerve to claim he knew anything about her.
"Papa Bates." She nodded her head and the man grinned approvingly at the title. The grin was not comforting. His teeth were sharpened to a perfect point like a beast of children's nightmares. Restraining a shudder, Cassandra entered the room, handing him her satchel.
Coins clattered as Bates poured them from the bag. There was a greedy look in his eyes as he rummaged through the pile, counting how many there were. From his expression, Cassandra could tell he was pleased. She never doubted that he would be. She was one of the best thieves in the gang. Her small frame being quite advantageous. When it came to combat however...her figure wasn't as benefical. Luckily for her, she had learnt well during her years of training. She had to. If not, she would undoubtedly have died within the first year. However, her newfound skills weren't called upon as often as she would like. They were only required if you were caught, which Cassandra never was. Thus why she took every opportunity she got to put the idiots of Bates' crew in their place.
"Good, good." The man's gruff voice made her skin crawl. "But something's not quite right." He stepped towards her and felt a tendril of her hair that had grown somewhat since it had last been cut. Blonde wisps tickled her shoulders. "Too long. You're starting to look like the child you were when you came to me. Weak and pathetic."
Before Cassandra could react, Bates had pulled out a blade. He gripped the ends of her locks and slashed through with the knife. She remained still while Bates finished his task, putting up no fight. Only a person with a death wish would resist. One movement and his knife could easily cut her neck.
No. She wouldn't act. Not yet.
"There, much better." Cassandra wrinkled her nose as the stench of his breath hit her like a wall. He turned away and slumped towards the chair at the money covered table. This was her chance. Her body sprung into motion. Pulling a dagger from her belt, Cassandra raised it by her head. As quick as lightning, she sent the razor-sharp weapon tumbling through the air until it embedded itself in Bates' back. Right through his heart.
Cassandra nimbly approached the large corpse that had slammed to the floor. She knelt beside it and grabbed the handle protruding from his back.
"Much better indeed." She spat under her breath. She heaved the dagger upwards and it quickly popped out from her former leader's skin. She wiped the glistening red knife on the man's grubby shirt and slid it back into her belt.
Cassandra didn't spare a glance to the treasure on the desk. There's no way she would escape the hideout alive if she took some. Jangling coins in her pockets would surely make the other men suspicious. Bates' kept all the collections, the thieves themselves never got anything. He liked to refer to it as paying him for providing them with food, shelter and the like, neglecting the fact that the food was never retrieved by Bates himself. That didn't matter to Cassandra, she didn't want the coins anyway. There was but one thing she desired.
She reached for the small chain that hung loosely around his neck. She spun it and grasped the object attached to the grubby metal. It was a dainty locket, covered in grime but looked like it used to be silver in colour. Getting a firm hold, she tugged on the locket and tore the chain from Bates' neck. Cassandra rolled it over in her hands and, taking a deep breath, opened it.
The locket snapped open and in its metal casing lay what Cassandra knew she needed ever since she laid eyes on it...
A magic bean.
___
///
Cassandra had stormed out of camp after speaking to Henry. She hadn't stopped once, she kept going, fuelled by her rage. The nerve Henry had, it annoyed her to no end. It wasn't just what he said. It was how deeply he believed his own words. It was sickening. How did her own flesh and blood, who began in her shoes so lost and alone, turn out so hopeful? She was filled with disgust at her brother's behaviour. Yet, through the swirling fog of anger and hatred, a tiny sliver of something else cut through. It was grief. Grief for the life she could have had.
Shaking her head, Cassandra scolded herself. There was no need to grieve. What Henry thought to be true was nothing but a lie. An illusion. There was no such thing as a family laced with unconditional love and true unselfishness. Parents were deceitful. The love they claimed to have was not true. There was no need for Cassandra to feel a twang in her chest when she pictured the familial love Henry believed in. It was not real.
Her feet smacked the soft dirt as she walked through the jungle. Consumed by her thoughts, she did not hear the slight murmur nearby. Her steps did not falter, she strode on, oblivious to the people nearby. She whacked branches out the way as they hung in her path. The rustles were loud. However, they were not enough to rouse Cassandra from her careless state.
It wasn't until her shoe snagged on a tree root that she was brought to a halt. Falling to her knees, she hit the muddy ground. Her arms reached out to prevent her head smacking the earth. She stared at the twigs and leaves beneath her, breathing heavily. She clutched her head and gritted her teeth as she released a muffled yell. She needed to get these thoughts out of her head. The images of happiness Henry had painted with his firm faith. They caused an odd sensation in her chest. It was difficult to describe, though it felt vaguely familiar. It flooded through her veins and although she could not recall when, Cassandra was certain she had experienced it before.
"Don't move." The stern command came from her left. Cassandra shot to her feet and spun to face her confronter. At the sight of the Dark One in front of her, she became very wary of the power he possessed. Rumpelstiltskin was not a man to be toyed with. She didn't doubt the harm he could do to her with a single wave of his hand. However, at this moment in time, he had to no reason to. He didn't know that she had been tricking them all along, that she was on Peter's side.
"Mr Gold." She smiled innocently, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Cassandra," He said, void of any emotion. "You escaped him?"
"Pan didn't need me. They took Henry when we got here and I haven't seen him since."
"Hmm, interesting-"
"Cassandra?" A familiar voice cut in. Glancing behind Rumpelstiltskin, Cassandra's breath caught in her throat.
"Neal?" Unprepared for the sight of her father, there was no venom in her tone. "You're dead."
"That seems to be the common assumption." He grinned wryly. Cassandra noticed a body slung over his shoulder.
"Henry?" Shock was evident in her tone. She began to panic as she wondered how they'd got him. What had happened at camp while she'd been gone? Peter should have stopped them.
"Rescued him from the camp. He's under a sleeping curse at the minute but he'll be fine." Neal responded, evidently more relaxed having his son with him. "Are you okay? You aren't hurt?"
"No, I'm good." Cassandra shook her head though her thoughts were somewhere else as she assessed the situation. Henry was with them, not at camp. Peter definitely wouldn't like that. She had no clue what had happened at camp, whether they were fine or whether they needed her help. In that case, she was clueless as to which course of action to take: take Henry from them and find Peter, or stall them, preventing their escape, and wait for Peter.
Based on who she was with, it didn't seem like snatching Henry away was a valid option. The Dark One could easily stop her if she tried anything- not worth the risk. Her father, another person on her long list of hated individuals was also with her. Peter never said Neal was untouchable and so, it appeared her revenge was still viable. However, breaking out of her innocent character, would compromise the trust she currently held with them. Peter having Henry was more important than her revenge. It was decided, she'd stall Neal and Rumpel.
Cassandra followed them back through the bushes they'd come from into a small clearing. Neal placed Henry onto the ground and turned to Cassandra.
"So turns out you're actually my daughter." The man awkwardly tried to make conversation. "I mean, Tamara told me, right before I fell through the portal, but I err, didn't believe her. I mean who would, you're...what sixteen?" He looked to Cassandra who quickly nodded. "Yeah so that would make Emma about twelve when she had you which obviously couldn't be the case-"
"What convinced you that I was?" Cassandra asked, fed up with his rambling.
"I asked him when I got here." Neal motioned to his father. "He explained they'd used some sort of magic back in Storybrooke to confirm it. That the only explanation was that something had happened to you, to make you age faster."
"Yeah. I-" Cassandra was grateful for being cut off as she didn't know exactly what she was going to say to Neal.
"Y'know something doesn't quite add up." Rumpel said and at his tone, Cassandra immediately regretted her thoughts of relief. "You said Pan didn't need you. Now based on my experience, if Pan doesn't need someone, he kills them. He doesn't let them wander free where they could get in the way of his plans."
Cassandra tensed at his words. The Dark One's aura was slowly transforming into one of fury.
"That being said, I think, considering who your parents are, you could be of great use to him. Your typical trade perhaps: threaten your life if we become dangerously close to disrupting his plans." He seethed, his tone full of accusation. Cassandra's eyes flitted about the clearing to see which way she could escape.
"And there's also the fact that I had a little conversation with your 'adoptive mother'. She had quite the intriguing things to say about you, dearie."
///
___
Cassandra thought they would have given up by now. She thought it was mainly gold that kept them by Bates' side rather than loyalty. Evidently, she was wrong as the men still chased her after what felt like hours of sprinting through the forest. Her body ached and begged for rest but Cassandra urged her limbs forward one step after the other. Stopping was a risk that could not be taken. Some of the bandits had impeccable aim with a bow and she wasn't allowing herself to become in range for their arrows.
A shape flickered in the corner of her eye. Cassandra gasped with disbelief. The slight distraction caused her to stumble and she plummeted to the leaf covered ground. As she stood, a pain shot through her right thigh. She didn't have to look to know an arrow had skimmed her leg, slicing through the skin. However, the pain was nothing more than slight discomfort. She had experienced worse. Understanding the group was closer than anticipated, she increased her pace. Another arrow struck, this time in her left shoulder. At the angle it had hit, it was impossible to remove it without slowing down and so she pushed on with the arrow shaft waving in the air.
Eventually the yells of the men died down until all that could be heard was the crunch of leaves under her feet. Her dry throat begged for water and her wounds throbbed. Sticky blood trailed down her back and leg and at last, Cassandra decided to slow to a jog. Reaching her right arm backwards, she felt for the arrow still lodged in her shoulder and tugged. It didn't budge. Gritting her teeth, she tried again using more force and this time the wood came loose. Instantly Cassandra regretted her decision as a fresh wave of warmth trickled from the wound. A combination of fatigue and blood loss caught up with her and as she staggered dizzily along the ground, she failed to notice the trap hidden beneath the leaves.
The net sprung up, enclosing her as the rope lifted her off the ground. Rapidly, she fumbled for the dagger in her belt. Her hands slick with blood, the blade slipped and fell through the net to the floor. Hands forming fists, she spat out curses. Her body slumped as she gave in. Why bother? The shouts of the men had already returned. Any attempts at freeing herself would be futile and upon the slight chance that she did... where would she go? Though the magic bean felt heavy where it hid in her pocket, her wounds would make travelling through a portal a suicide mission. She knew death would soon meet her, yet Cassandra felt no fear as her body grew tired and her mind became fuzzy.
And so, she waited. Staring up at the black mass above, void of the stars that would give her hope when she was young and naïve.
Her senses numbed and her vision blurred. Clearly, she was beginning to hallucinate in her delirious state as the last thing she saw was the silhouette of a boy in the sky, flying towards her.
"I've got you Cassandra."
___
///
"What do you mean?" Neal asked his father. "Cassandra...what's going on?"
Cassandra stared at Neal and at the priceless look on his face, she gave into her hateful desires. A smirk grew on her face and she laughed. The sound came out twisted and unpleasant, this was not the tinkling laugh one would expect from her. This was verging on a cackle.
"Even after everything you've been through, you still manage to hand out your trust like it has no price." She spoke to Neal with a dark voice that commanded all attention. She began to stroll around the edge of the clearing, trying to get as close to Henry as she could. "And you, the great Rumpelstiltskin, I expected more from you. Your almighty abilities of seeing through deception are slipping." She grinned, though her eyes did not mimic the happy gesture of her lips.
"You're one of them, aren't you? You work for Pan." Rumpel seethed.
"I prefer the term 'with' rather than 'for' thank you very much." Cassandra muttered. The next thing she knew, her breath left her as she was slammed into a tree. Her vision cleared and she saw Rumpel with his hand held out, his fingers tensed.
"It would appear you're weaker than you'd like to believe, dearie." He snarled. "I'd be careful from here if I were you, because without the magic you clearly don't have," His voice morphed into a growl. "I could kill you before you even got a chance to scream for your precious Pan."
"That's more like it." Her eyes were crazed. "I've got to agree with Peter, normal people are just plain boring. You however, make the game a bit more interesting." The manic girl grinned widely.
Rumpel curled his fingers and Cassandra clutched at her throat. She couldn't breathe. Panic bubbled as her oxygen supply reduced rapidly. Throat burning. Lungs on fire. Vision fuzzy. Cassandra forced herself to inhale with all her might but it was no use. Her thoughts began slurring together into an unintelligible mess. The pain was blinding. Her arms became heavy and flopped to her sides. She vaguely heard Neal yelling but neither her eyes nor ears could focus. Her eyelids drooped. Her ears pounded with the sound of her blood rushing at the frantic beat of her heart.
Then suddenly, her airway opened and the invisible grip on her body vanished. Cassandra collapsed to the ground. She heaved as she gulped in oxygen. Laying on the ground, she panted heavily and all that could be heard through her ears were her loud breaths. She closed her eyes and listened to the hectic pulse throughout her body. The pain gradually subsided and a cool stream of soothing air washed down her windpipe. Emotion and impulse mutated into lucid thoughts. They'd stopped harming her. She didn't know why but she couldn't bring herself to care.
Raising her head with great difficulty she made out the shapes of Neal with little Henry on his back once again, and Rumpel. Neal waved his arms in an agitated manner as if in a heated argument. He pointed to her but Cassandra couldn't comprehend his words, her ears were still overwhelmed by her hammering heartbeat. Giving her one final look, one that looked suspiciously like pity, Neal slipped into the darkness of the jungle. Rumpel glared at her before thundering off in the opposite direction to his son.
No longer able to hold it up, her head crashed back down to the dirt. In a moment of vulnerability, Cassandra curled into a ball and squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to shed a tear. She was weak, pathetic. Magic had always overcome her. It had always been the cause of her downfall. Regardless of the agony she had just undergone, she had not feared death. Whatever the Dark One did to her, whatever anyone did, her heart would not stop beating. She'd like to think it was through her love for Peter, that her heart would never give up. But sadly, things could not nearly be that romantic in real life.
Peter had cast a spell on it. Not one to make her love him, not even he was powerful enough for such magic. No, it was to strengthen her heart. The organ would not fail so long as she loved him. So, in a sense, its everlasting beating was because of the intense love she felt for Peter Pan.
Peter's magic had cast that spell, tying her to him forever. Magic had enabled them to meet in the first place. Although magic had had enormous negative impacts on her life, Cassandra admitted it had brought so much more. Yes, it was what allowed her to grow up in a realm entirely different to the one she was born in, the one she should have stayed in. But magic led to the development of skills she never would have otherwise learnt. Magic led her to Peter.
Magic was her downfall...but it was also her salvation.
///
___
Cassandra's eyes flew open and she screamed. Quickly she covered her mouth with her hand. She gasped for breath and tried to calm down. Her body trembled, covered in a cold layer of sweat. Her memory foggy and her mind disorientated, she sat up. A dull ache throbbed in her shoulder and instantly she snapped from her adrift state.
She had died. But...this didn't seem like death. She could feel rough material beneath her hands and hear the thrum of wildlife nearby. Shifting her weight, the material began to tilt and suddenly panicking, she frantically leaned the other way to avoiding falling. She had only just managed to steady herself when she noticed the presence in the corner of the dark room.
"Who are you?"
"I think you know who I am, Cassandra." A boy's voice floated through the air, growing louder as the source stepped closer. "I'm just sorry you had to wait so long." The voice was kind and gentle, it was sympathetic. His words made something stir within Cassandra and years of childhood memories poured over her vision in the space of a single second, giving her mind the name of the boy in front of her.
"Peter Pan." She whispered. She didn't know exactly how she knew. It was more a gut feeling. An instinct. Her entire life had been built upon the idea that this magical boy would rescue her. Even though she'd never met him, she would recognise him anywhere. Pan knelt on the ground next to the hammock, concern etched onto his features.
"How are you feeling?" He asked softly. Cassandra assessed her body's state. Physically, she was fine, the ache in her shoulder barely noticeable. She was surprised to see that the wound in her leg had healed, leaving nothing but a faint line dancing across her thigh. She put it down to some sort of magic. However, she sensed this was not what the boy was asking and so she answered his real question.
"...I'm scared." She was ashamed to say it aloud but it was the truth, and after everything Peter Pan had done for her emotionally, he deserved nothing less. The nightmares she had awoken from came to her in flashes. Weeping to the moon in the sky, begging for a family. Madame Nox's sturdy backhand and cane that Cassandra's flesh was all too familiar with. Clambering through miles of snow in the middle of the night. Screaming as Paolo gave her away. Papa Bates' knife-like teeth, tearing a chunk from your flesh as if it was nothing.
Cassandra had spent her whole life feeling lost and unloved, over the years she had grown numb to it, but having all those memories crammed into one dream had brought rise to emotions long buried. The fact that she was most likely now in Neverland, with Peter Pan, it overwhelmed her. She didn't feel the sense of joy and safety she thought she'd feel. Instead, her mind felt scattered with no aim to guide it. He was here, Peter Pan had saved her as the shadow had promised so long ago. And that was the problem. She had spent so long waiting and secretly hoping he would come for her. Praying that the shadow was real and that she wasn't crazy like Madame Nox made everyone believe. Now that it had finally happened... there was nowhere to go, no purpose to keep her pushing forward.
___
///
Cassandra awoke gently to find she was snuggled against someone. Lifting her head, she saw a familiar face. Peter was looking upwards to the top of the tent, his eyes glazed over with deep thought. Sensing her brown irises on him, the boy's eyes flitted downwards. As their gazes met, the spark was like a jumpstart to her heart. Its steady rhythm tumbled into a frantic fluttering as their eyes locked. Just as Cassandra opened her mouth, Peter answered her unspoken question.
"I found you asleep in the middle of the jungle. That wasn't the cleverest thing to do now, was it Cassie?" Behind his nonchalant tone, Cassandra recognised a hit of genuine concern. She'd made him worry. A lump of guilt formed in her throat. She hadn't been thinking. Hadn't stopped to think how any of her actions would affect Peter. It didn't seem like he knew about Rumpel and his trying to choke her. If he did, Peter certainly wouldn't bother upholding his calm appearance. Without hesitation, she promised herself she wouldn't tell him. No need to cause him more distress. She wouldn't be so stupid again and that was all that mattered, he needn't ever know.
"Sorry." Her voice was small, conveying the sincere regret she felt. Immediately she turned back into her usual self, giving a snide remark. "Couldn't stand to be in the same space as that irritating brat any longer. Quite frankly, his positivity burns my ears."
"I've noticed, you aren't exactly subtle about your distaste." Peter chuckled under his breath. "I'm surprised you haven't rattled him to death yet."
"It took an agonising amount of self-restraint, believe me." She quipped. Her eyes escaped the hold of his captivating orbs and she rested her head back on his chest. "Where is the little bundle of optimism?" She drawled, though her words held an undertone of trepidation. If Neal had gotten away with Henry, then Peter's game was over. Cassandra knew the consequences if he lost this game.
"In the camp." He stated blankly. Cassandra's brows furrowed at that. Neal had Henry. Not Peter. Why would he lie? Was he trying to fool her like he was with Henry? Peter continued before her thoughts could escalate. "Rumpel and Baelfire took him. Cast a sleeping curse and immobilised me with squid ink-" His bitter tone transformed into one of pride and Cassandra could sense the smug grin on his face. "But it wasn't long before the magic wore off and we got Henry back."
Cassandra's mind lurched. Had she...how could she- after everything they'd been through! How had she managed to jump to such a conclusion? She found it so easy to distrust Peter, to presume he was lying to her before giving him a chance to finish. Disgust swelled within her. He was supposed to be the one person who she could trust wholeheartedly. Yet somehow a rift had been formed, allowing her first instinct to be suspicious of the boy she loved. What had happened to her! Was it Henry's unbearable faith in his family, that they were the ones to be trusted, that had infected her mind? Her nose scrunched as the repulsive thought entered her mind. She wasn't that idiotic. There must be another explanation. Was it the deprivation of oxygen she endured not long before? It was definitely the better sounding option.
"Henry will be waking up soon." Peter exhaled. He carefully lifted her up as he rolled himself off the hammock, gently laying her body back on the material as he did so. "Wait here. I'll be back." He slid out of the tent and as she watched him walk away, Cassandra felt the sudden urge to follow him. She swung her legs over the edge of the hammock and without understanding her motives, crept after him.
Compared to the stuffy tent, the outside air was blissfully cool against her skin. She saw Peter walking across the camp to a small figure curled up on the floor. Lurking around the camp's edge, Cassandra slunk in the direction of Peter and Henry, her eyes wary and alert as they kept watch for any Lost Boys that might notice her. It appeared everyone was too busy to consider her, or her peculiar behaviour, as they fooled around in their small huddles. Eyes darting back to Peter, she glimpsed Henry waking up and beginning to converse with the boy crouched beside him. Once in earshot, Cassandra hovered behind a nearby tree.
"-just a little catnap. The night's still young." Peter's voice travelled to where Cassandra was hidden.
"Wait, I-I remember something. My dad...When I was asleep, I-I could've sworn I heard him calling for me." Cassandra tensed. Did Henry know his Dad was alive?
"Really?" Peter kept up his relaxed composure with ease. Only Cassandra, who knew the mossy eyed boy so well, could hear the false note to his voice.
"It must've been a dream." Henry mumbled and Cassandra was sure she had heard wrong. Was he really giving up? Had Peter finally broken him?
"Well, how can you be sure?" The manipulation Peter was trying to achieve rang loud and clear in Cassandra's ears and she could feel herself growing agitated. She stopped short. Why was she irked by Peter's treatment of Henry? First of all, she shouldn't care about Henry full stop. Secondly, she was on Peter's side, she knew this was necessary if he were to continue living. She didn't understand why she had experienced the absurd reaction to Peter's deception.
"Because... 'cause my dad's dead." Each syllable expressed the grief he felt. The sorrow he possessed, Cassandra had not experienced it for a long, long time. And even then, she was so young it hardly held the awareness that Henry's held at this moment. There was a tug at Cassandra's heartstrings and she quickly shook herself free of the unnerving temptation to pity the boy.
"I'm sorry, Henry. It makes sense for us to dream about the things we've lost and the things we hoped for." Cassandra's heart thumped as Peter said this. She had heard these words before, so very long ago. Her first night in Neverland. Peter had consoled her with the same words he was feeding Henry now.
///
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Pan seemed to understand her fear. "I'm sorry for what you've been through. That your family never came for you like deep down you hoped they would. That because of them, you've felt astray, never finding home." Cassandra nodded at the truth to his words, her gaze falling to her hands resting heavily on her lap. "But you know-" A breath caught in Cassandra's throat and her eyes sprung back to the boy's face. "-it makes sense to dream about the things we've lost and the things we hoped for." As Cassandra looked into the green eyes that stared back without wavering, she saw the confidence he held not just in what he was saying, but in her.
___
///
Now, standing behind the tree, she strained her ears to hear the end of Peter's speech. She wished she hadn't.
"-find new things to dream about. And when you do, they'll start to come true." The words hung in the empty air.
Her chest felt as though it had cracked, broken in two. A sharp blade of pain cut through her.
///
___
Pan reached out and placed his hand over hers, she tried to ignore the fire that she felt where he touched her skin.
"The thing is Cassandra, you're here now. You can leave that life behind and start your new one here, in Neverland. You can find new things to dream about. And when you do they'll start to come true."
___
///
They were the same words. Like a line from a script. Peter said them with such conviction to Henry, it was difficult to see through his façade. She could tell Peter was tricking her brother, but only because she was in on the scheme. That, and she now liked to think she knew Peter well enough that he could never fool her, even if he tried. But all that time ago, when she was a scared girl who had known Neverland's ruler for no more than a few minutes...she hardly knew him at all. She would have fallen for those lines like a child would a fairy-tale.
"How do you know?" Henry asked, his desperation evident. She understood his want, his need to believe Peter- that everything would get better.
"Because that's what I did. And now you're here. Neverland used to be a place where new dreams were born. You can bring that magic back, Henry. And we can be your family."
///
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"I used to be like you, you know. I never thought I could be truly happy. But then I found Neverland. A place where new dreams are born. Through it I found my family. It can do the same for you, Cassandra. We can be your family."
These words were the most profound Cassandra had ever had the pleasure of hearing. They echoed in her ears and would stay close to her heart for the rest of her days. These were the words that gave her the belief that she wasn't a lost cause, not in Neverland. She could start over. She could be a Lost Boy.
She smiled.
"You can call me Cassie."
Pan smiled back, the green in his eyes grew brighter.
"Well then, Cassie, you can call me Peter."
___
///
Peter raised his voice as he yelled to the Lost Boys. "I'd like to play a song, a song for our guest of honour, Henry."
///
___
"Here, let me play you a song." From his jacket, Peter pulled a set of pipes, barely visible in the dim lighting. Cassandra lay back down and waited for the tune. Her heart thudded in anticipation. She had grasped that the instrument was the one the shadow had told her about so many times. It was supposed to produce the most wonderful music but could only be heard by those who felt lost, by Lost Boys. She envied them, she had always been just as lost, just as out of place as them, yet they got the chance to live on Neverland with Peter Pan. She had always wished to hear the magic pipe's beautiful sounds. Its notes would declare her one of Neverland's natives.
The moment she heard its music, she would be a Lost Boy.
___
///
Music filled the camp, floating eerily through the air. Cassandra remained where she was, masked by the shadows. Her trembling hand snaked its way upwards to retrieve the weight hiding beneath her shirt. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her back to the tree trunk. She was no longer aware of her surroundings; her vision had begun to blur. Instead, she was trapped in her thoughts. Shaky fingers pulled at the chain around her neck.
"You can hear the music now, can't you Henry?"
The object appeared from the neck of her shirt and her unsteady hand clutched at it, her jagged movements coming to a halt.
"Yeah!" The boy's voice was joyful, a large contrast to his mood not two moments ago. A silent tear escaped Cassandra's eye, rolling down her cheek as memories blinded her vision. The locket felt heavy in her grip. The very same locket that she had stolen from a corpse all that time ago. Over time, it had become a symbol of her freedom and escape.
Had it been the same for her then as it was for Henry now? Had she fallen for nothing more than another of Peter Pan's games? Naive, gullible Cassandra wanting someone to trust, someplace to call home. Was everything he had told her a lie?
There was only one way to find out. Making her decision, Cassandra tucked the locket back under her shirt. Wiping her wet cheek, she slipped soundlessly into the trees with the familiar weight of the locket hanging over her heart.