A/n: To start it off, we're going to with a NotEvil!Pan AU because I need some fluff and I need it now.

-

Blake's eyes drifted from his locker to the girl across the hall. He had angled himself so that it was an easy, fluid transition. One not many people noticed. He could get away with admiring the way her hair lay across her shoulders, and how her lips curled into a smile. He could admire her eyes as well, and even from this distance he knew they would be a shiny grey. They would swirl as she laughed, as if made of lazing molten metal being shaped. He knew that they could turn steely and frozen, sharp like a blade, but in a good mood they were too warm to be hard like that. But for now, with a smile on her face, she was soft and brimming with light. As he watched her lips parted in a laugh and he found the sound reaching him even at his distance with its volume - he was too weak to deny the smile that made itself onto his face. She was beautiful and her happiness was contagious to him.

It was moments like his that Blake liked to think about Henry's stories. Any world that painted him and that girl as companions was one he wished to be apart of. In reality though, he wasn't some other half to her. They didn't even know each other.

It was a weird thought. They'd grown up in the same town and had countless classes together over the years. They'd even ended up paired up together a few times. Storybrooke was tiny, it was bound to happen. I mean he could even recall some mental images of catching her out of the corner of his eyes as he went to Granny's. They were physically close, passing mere inches of each other every day. They had never exchanged words of a proper conversation. Nothing outside of required school work.

In Henry's stories though...

The bell rang before Blake could fall too deeply into his own mind. He blinked, turning back to his locker to flip through the few things here and there. Once he was sure he was prepared, he closed it and rushed off. He tried to steal another glance at her but she had gone so he sighed internally and went on his way instead.

Despite his better judgement, Blake found his mind wandering to those grey eyes as the day passed. Classes with her were the worst. It hadn't always been like this. Once he hadn't even been aware of her more than in passing. She was fairly popular and pleasant to be around - that was it. Then Henry had shared Blake's supposed chapter in his book of stories and ever since Blake couldn't get her out of his head or keep himself from seeing her everywhere. Even sometimes when she wants actually there. It wasn't like he especially liked her or anything he just... noticed her. Always.

He would go to his locker and see her across the hall as he had that morning, or if it was lunch and he got there early enough she would always pass behind him and her perfume would linger in the air. He would be suddenly more curious than usual, something tugging his chest as the urge to follow her rose up in him. Or they'd be in the line at lunch and she would hum to herself, whether or not she had her earbuds in her ears. Sometimes in class he would especially aware of her and every word and movement would pull his eyes to her. Like magnets.

He didn't... like her. He didn't have a crush on her, to say. That would be impossible. He didn't know her. But she was transfixing in a way. He wished he DID know her.

Wishing was never enough, and it was always his awkwardness that was to blame. Blake was just sort of the odd kid out. I mean his best friend was in middle school - what else had to be said to explain the kind of status he held at school? He was a junior in high school. An awkward, quiet junior who tended to sit back and watch others than engage, even if he was part of a conversation. He just never knew what to say or do. He spent too much time daydreaming his mom always said.

Blake could be anyone when he was daydreaming, and he had found the power in it at a very young age. It had murdered his social standing, but given him something arguably better. Something he enjoyed more. It gave him someone to look up to. Someone to pretend to be. In his mind he was confident and powerful and funny. In his daydreams he was exactly the boy Henry said he was. He was tall, not in size but in stance. He smirked and his shoulders were pressed back. His chin rose in pride and his voice demanded attention. The girl with the grey eyes looked at him and saw him and she smiled.

Nowadays, more than anything he was always flying in his daydreams. The wind whipped through his clothes and hair. There was a breathtaking ocean view and a scattered, small island of some kind. The light reflecting off the water caught his attention, warming his insides. The sun danced across his skin. The shark scent of the sea hit his nose. He closed his eyes and moved through the air. Fell backwards, only to pull up at the last second. Spun in the air, having to tilt his head back to see anything other than eternally blue sky. Whoops and hollers of glee would rip from his mouth, only to be lost on the breeze. He was completely free.

Coming out of those daydreams was always the worst. His teacher would snap at him and he was lucky to be so smart that he avoided a scolding by knowing the answer despite not paying attention. His mom would snap her fingers at dinner and repeat what she had been speaking about for fifteen minutes, and he was good enough at people reading and playing things off that he could convince her. Henry would touch his shoulder and slowly wait for him to come back before saying something. Blake always appreciated Henry's patience and kindness. Everyone else seemed annoyed by his disconnectedness but Henry... Henry got it.

It was probably why Blake found himself after school everyday, making his way to the gate between the middle and the high school. He leaned against the wood, waiting for the younger boy and when he arrived they exchanged smiles before making their way home. They didn't live far from each other, and had no other friends so they always ended their days like this. Even if there were other options they wouldn't have taken them though. The two boys understood each other like no one else did. They made allowances and offered kindnesses to each other no one else bothered with. It was refreshing. Good.

Until Henry mentioned his book.

Usually Blake wouldn't care, but these days when Henry mentioned the book it was always one question. "Did you talk to her today?"

Blake just shook his head, frowning. "No," he sighed. "I keep telling you, she is way out of my league." Henry rolled his eyes, almost as if on cue. Before Blake had finished what he was saying the younger boy reacted. They had gone through this many times. "I'm serious Mills, she doesn't even see me. I'm just the quiet kid in the corner with no real dreams or aspirations even or good conversation, and she's..." he shrugged. "Energy incarnate. Alive. Buzzing, active. She always has something to say and she makes a statement wherever she goes." He blinked, his green eyes flickering with annoyance at even the idea. At himself. "I bet you a million bucks she goes for the tall, dark, and handsome philosophical types with a troubled past and a streak of mystery." They both laughed at that and Blake just sighed. "Whatever she goes for it's not me."

That made Henry almost groan, but he managed to swallow it. "You're just different than you were before," he insisted. "And so is she. You were a confident leader. Blake you were awesome! You made her strong. She was shy before she met you."

A harsh chuckle bubbled past Blake's lips, dark and brief. Mocking almost. "When will you stop pushing this idea that I'm Peter Pan?"

This time a groan did come from Henry, causing Blake to laugh. "Never!" The younger boy stated firmly. "You are!"

Shrugging, Blake let it go. He'd never win this argument. "Whatever you say Henry. Whatever you say."

-

Peter smiled as the girl slipped into the room. He was definitely different these days. Kinder. Softer. Still strict as a leader, but also more fair and fun. His childish, cocky, even prideful manners had all rounded. He didn't lose then completely - he was still the boss. Still confident and unyielding and constant. He was gentler as well though. More than a demon in boy's clothing. He had her, the one who smiled at him now, and she had showed him a different side to the life he'd been leading.

His arms draped around her naturally as he pulled her close, his face pushing comfortably into her hair as he rested against her neck. Her smell filled his senses: pine; salt; earthy; smoke. She smelled like the forest embodied and no matter how often she showered, she was always a perfect balance of the different smells around them.

According to her, Peter always smelled like a combination of bark, dirt, grass and soap. He didn't think that would have been a nice combination but she seemed to adore it. To be fair though, it might not have been the smell itself but the feeling of home that came with it. That's what her scent was to him, it only made sense that it would the same for her.

His thoughts brought a smile to his face, soft and dreamy. "Good morning, Love."

"Good morning, Darling," she hummed back. Her hands reached to grab the material of his shirt that was pressed to his back. She held him right back, holding him close to her. "I woke up alone." Her tone was displeased, pushing for an explanation.

Trying not to laugh, Peter rolled his eyes and shook his head. Her face was hidden from view but he could imagine the expression she wore. Most clearly, the pout that was would undoubtedly be pulling at her mouth. "I had some jobs to cover with the Boys very early this morning and I didn't want to wake you. I got distracted and didn't get back in time."

She nodded - that was a satisfying answer. "Peter?" Her tone had changed, indicating she had something new on her mind.

"Yes, Love?"

She paused a moment, her fingers fiddling with his shirt at his back. "Can we go on an adventure again? Just you and me?"

Unsure why she was so shy about asking, Peter kissed the top of her head. "Of course. That sounds like a wonderful idea."

Here she looked up and her expression set Peter on edge. "I mean... off the island?" Peter's eyebrows knitted in a perplexed expression, his eyes hardening. "I don't want to leave permanently," she rushed to explain, already seeing the conclusion forming. "Neverland is my home. You're my home. And it'll always be that way. But, I do wish to see see my old place again... just for a moment."

Now Peter knew all about her history. The orphanage that she had been raised in, and how she had never once referred to it as home. It had been her biggest joy to escape it. However, she did have one regret that came in the form of a little girl named Maggie.

Maggie was several years younger than the girl Peter had come to love, and from what Peter had heard, the two had been incredibly close. Like sisters. Maggie got sick often and spent her time inside, tucked into the windowsill and gazed at the stars and dreamt up a home. A real home. It was Maggie who had introduced Peter and his girlfriend... if indirectly. Maggie's daydreams had been of Neverland, and when she told her stories it was only the one who was like a sister to her that listened. Then they were both dreaming of Neverland... but only one got a visit from the shadow.

Peter would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little indebted to the young girl.

A soft sigh escaped him. "Only two days," he conceded. The girl he held squealed, grinning so wide it hurt to look at. Despite that, he looked anyway, basking in the glory of it. The light and warmth of her unbridled joy. She pulled Peter down for a deep kiss to express her gratitude and for a moment they simply melted into each other.

When she pulled away, she held his face tenderly. "Thank you, Peter." It was more tender and intimate than any pet name she could have called him.

He rested his forehead against hers. "Anything for you, my dear."

-

"Henry you're being absolutely ridiculous," Blake accused. He tried to be angry, but he was too wrapped up in amusement that was pulling laughter out of him, crumbling any attempts to be cross.

Henry's eyebrow rose, an argument pushing to the front. He had been reading the Peter Pan chapter out loud again. "It describes her as having blonde hair and grey eyes," he continued. "And the boy - Peter Pan - you - green eyes, brown hair, and a charming smile she could never resist." The ending of the phrase turned into a teasing tone.

Blake rolled his eyes, not even dignifying that with a response before he just walked backwards into the door to Granny's. He had been about to push inside and made some snide remark to Henry, but the second he slid off of the door he slammed into someone and it disrupted all of his thoughts. "I'm so sorry," he rushed as he spun around to face who he had rammed into.

Blonde hair was all he could see for a second as the girl he had been dreaming about was suddenly in front of him - so much more than a story or a daydream. When he had bumped her she had lost her footing and while trying to make up for the way she was reeling backwards, had over corrected. Now she was falling into his chest, her hands flattening against him. Without even thinking he caught her, hands gripping her arm and legs bracing for impact. They ended up looking at each other, eyes wide and mouths parted in shock.

The girl composed herself a lot quicker than Blake did. She got her feet under her and, laughing, dismissed his apology. "It's okay." They were both blushing and he tried not to think about how pretty she looked with the pink coloring. Blake couldn't seem to form any kind of thought, though he should have moved or continued on his way or at least responded, instead of just standing there with his mouth open and his eyes wide like some fish. Watching the scene, the friends with the girl giggled. She shot a glare at them but didn't move further than the barely inches they had between them. Instead, her eyebrows came together as she tilted her head. "Do I know you?" She seemed to notice the recognition on his face that seemed to be edging onto her features as well. Her question was directed at the recognition, though brief, they seemed to share.

Blake nodded. Then he swallowed before clearing his throat, trying to orient himself before he looked even more foolish. "We go to school together actually. We also have a few classes. We've been partners a few times actually." He shrugged. "Never really talked past like, requirements though, so I don't blame you for not remembering."

Something sparkled in her eyes. Something that drew him in. "You remembered."

Blake sifted through his mind, looking for a way not to seem like the dork he was. It was then that he remembered Henry, and the story that he'd just been sharing. He thought of Peter Pan and Neverland. Thought of that power and confidence. A new emotion pushed at him as he harnessed that image in his mind: Smugness. He realized that he was taller than her and she as she looked up at him with that look, he smirked. "You're hard to forget." It occurred to him that he had just flirted. He'd overthink it later.

She just offered her hand for him to shake, the intrigue he'd been feeling for a while reflecting in the way she tilted her head. "Elise," she told him.

The boy took her hand. "Blake."

Elise dropped his hand, then fluidly slid past him. Her friends followed, all of their eyes flying between the two. "I'll see you around, Blake."

He watched her go, turning away from the diner. "I'll keep my eyes open."

When the girls disappeared, he felt a weird tightening in his chest and he turned to Henry. The boy was grinning. "What?" Blake huffed, already knowing what was coming.

"I told you!" The younger boy sing-songed as he turned back toward the diner, finally going inside.

"Shut up," Blake snapped, following. Faced with Henry, he let go of that Peter Pan image and he slouched, also if trying to pull himself into his own body. Henry didn't know, but if Elise had any liking for Blake, it was because of the act he had just put on. A character he had momentarily been able to emulate. If she knew the real him... "You're still wrong." Despite the brooding tone, Henry couldn't stop laughing long enough to return a response.

-

The girl had fully meant to keep her promise. Two days max. It was really Maggie's fault that they stayed longer.

At the end of the second day, the pair were looking into the window across from Maggie's bed just for her to be able to say goodbye to her friend. But then -

"Mars?!"

Peter and Mars spun around, Mars' eyes wide. Mars wasn't really her name. Her real name was Marzipan. It was her mother's favorite flower - the only thing she knew, from a few words on a letter and the mentioned flower being tied to her basket as she was left on the orphanage steps. Maggie had shortened the other girl's name to simply 'Mars' because when they first met, Maggie was too young to properly pronounce the full thing. The head of the orphanage and the staff always called her 'Zippy', but it was Peter who (maybe not so) jokingly called her 'Pan' every once in a while.

Caught, Mars simply smiled awkwardly. "Hi, Maggie."

The young girl approached her slowly, looking between Mars and Peter. "Who's this?"

"This is... my..." Mars looked over at Peter, suddenly terribly unsure of herself. They were a couple, yes, but they hadn't admitted it out loud yet. The Boys had seen the pair as a duo ever since Mars had come to Neverland, really. Peter had been visiting her and talking about her even before she came, bringing her to a happier place when he couldn't stand to see her be miserable anymore. They'd never had to admit it out loud. It felt weird to do so.

Maggie tilted her head, a mischievous smile on her face. "Your boyfriend?" Her eyes glittered and Peter chuckled briefly.

In that moment, the boy couldn't have been happier to answer a question - one that had once terrified him. "Yeah," he answered easily. "I'm her boyfriend." His eyes sparkled as he offered his hand for her to shake. "My name is Peter. I brought her here to check on you. Sorry it took us so long, we don't usually leave the island."

For a second, everything seemed frozen. The first one to break it was Maggie, who sunk to her knees. Her eyes were wide, never leaving Peter and her hand pressed against her parted lips. Her face light up with unbridled joy, her eyes so bright they almost glowed. Mars pulled away from Peter, a bit panicked, moving to the younger girl's side. "What's wrong, Mags?"

"Nothing," Maggie gushed, and the shakiness in her voice would have given question if her tone wasn't so warm. "Not a single thing." Finally She looked at Mars. "I knew it." Her hand dropped, exposing the blazing smile so wide it hurt to look at. Tears prickled at her eyes. "I knew you'd gotten out and were out there, somewhere." The tears began to fall, and they were fast and hot.

Guilt burnt Mars. "Oh Maggie I'm so sorry-"

There was no bitterness in Maggie's expression though. Only joy came off of her in waves as she reached out and grasped Mars' hands, her head shaking and her smile now reassuring. "No, no Mars don't be sorry. I'm not angry, never angry. Everyone said I should be. They teased me, but it was no different than what they always did. You forget, I like it here. I like the gardens and the staircase and the trees in the yard. It's been so much better now that people don't notice me as much anymore - except when you come up in conversation they don't even talk to me. It was a little hard, right after you left, but then everyone went back to ignoring me - more so than ever, because you weren't there to remind them I was there. I could spend all day imagining. Dreaming. I could almost see you on Neverland, it was so clear in my head." She laughed and Peter's heart actually... ached for the young girl. Her eyes just sparkled though, unfocusing as she looked at the stars, as if seeing what she has been imagining even now. Even with Mars right in front of her.

Mars seemed worried by that. She looked at Peter, who just looked back without a clue on what to do. "Maggie?" Mars whispered.

Maggie's eyes slowly moved back to Mars, but stayed distant and glassy. "Can you fly, Mars? Is it just like the stories? Just like Ma told me?" Her hands held Mars' too tightly but Mars didn't complain, even as her skin went white. Her voice was soft and hollow, the tight grip was almost a relief. Maggie wasn't gone yet. Not completely.

Trying to settle her heart, Mars placed a warm smile on her face. "It's everything you dreamed and more," she insisted. There was relief on Maggie's face and, as if she was letting go of something, her eyes refocused and she seemed to see Mars again. When their eyes met, Mars' mind went through a reel of when she first came to Neverland, up until she came back to Maggie again. The weird part was that she could see the images reflect back at her in Maggie's eyes - as if what Mars was thinking, remembering, was being projected into Maggie's mind.

It grew quiet as the trio sat there a moment. Mars remembered and Maggie loved it all with her. Eventually Peter sat down next to the two girls, watching as little swirls of magic slipped from Mars' fingers and wound into Maggie's hair. When the remembering stopped, Maggie drew in a breath as a tear fell down her cheek. She went to speak, but the air caught in her throat and whatever she meant to communicate was lost in a hacking cough.

The two girls parted, Mars looking with wide eyes and Peter reaching out, his hand resting on her shoulder. Maggie covered her mouth with the bottom of her dress and when she finally quieted and stilled, the pale blue material had been smeared with -

Red.

Blood. Blood was smeared on Maggie's dress.

For a second Mars was shocked, but Peter had seen sickness and misery too much to only frown. His eyes rose to Maggie's and they exchanged a look as Mars stared at the vibrant red, unable to look away. "Maggie," she whispered. Her voice was shaky, horrified. Terrified, even.

Maggie and Peter looked away from each other, an understanding between them. "I'm sick," the younger girl admitted. She looked at Mars, who she had always seen as an older sister, and there was no regret in her gaze. No sorrow. No fear.

"You've always been sick," Mars replied, finally looking into Maggie's eyes. One that was already full of peace. Acceptance.

Shaking her head, Maggie leaned against the building that had at some point ended up at her back. "Not like this." She sighed, the air bubbly as it escaped her sore throat. "I'm dying, Mars."

There was an ache in Mars' expression. One that burned so white hot that it was almost cold. Her eyes blinked but didn't water. She was in shock. Thus didn't make sense. In the last two days she had checked in on Maggie, she had seemed fine. No worse than usual. A little weak and low energy, but Mars had assumed it was the loneliness. Not having Mars to help her and take care of her anymore. Surely she'd have noticed if her little bundle of joy was different...

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe Mars had been right, but it had been different than she thought. Mars wasn't there to watch her and tend to her and make sure she was taken care of. Maybe it had driven Maggie past suffering and exhaustion and right into acceptance. Maggie didn't even seem to be fighting it anymore. Had it gotten so bad that there was no hope?

As if seeing Mars' brain racing, Maggie took her hand to pull the older girl out of her thoughts. "It's okay," she reassured softly. "It's fine, really. I've always been so weak and sick and small. My mother was the same before me. I watched her have to fight in the best of circumstances her entire life. In far worse places, I fared much worse." She seemed to grow sad for the first time. "But it's better than the alternative. Than endless pain and struggle. Clawing from second to second. This is better. I'm ready to die, knowing you're okay and happy and safe."

Mars' eyes grew sharp. Angry. "You're twelve," she snapped. Neither Peter nor Maggie reacted to her harsh tone; they knew it was fear she really felt. "You aren't allowed to be ready to die."

A tiredness crossed Maggie's face. One Well beyond her years. "I have been dying from the second I was born." She sounded ancient. Her little more than twelve years had such a weight on her that she closed her eyes. "I don't know what waits for me on the other side. God. Nothing..." she scoffed in amusement. Maggie had never been religious. "Perhaps my Ma was right about everything. Maybe when you die you become one of the stars."

Mars remembered the stories they'd both heard through the years. Stories of possible afterlives and explanations and possibilities. Stories of musing from kids who were adopted or kicked out of the orphanage as they came of age. Stories of hope from children who had nothing in life and prayed for something more when it was all over. Something to make it worth while. Stories of fear from the exhausted and the tired and the broken.

They'd all been stories. Always just hidden emotions turned into something else. An escape. A safe haven. Fake... until Neverland. Now Mars didn't know.

"Maybe," Mars agreed. That seemed to make Maggie feel better. Mars had always been a realistic, tip toeing the line into pessimist. Seeing the hope that Peter had given her - it put her even more at ease.

"It's the only place I haven't been able to imagine," Maggie said. "There are just... too many possibilities. What was it you used to say, Mars? The thing you said Peter told you when he first came."

The first time Peter Pan had caught Mars sneaking out of the orphanage to see the stars, when she thought everyone well asleep and could finally allow herself to hope, Maggie was the one that Mars had confided in. Not about leaving, but about the flying boy with the green eyes and the charming smile. Anyone else would have made fun of her or called her a liar or said she was dreaming, but Maggie didn't. Maggie always believed Mars, and even more always believed stories and fantasies. The more unrealistic, the better. Maggie had spent all of the time demanding every detail of his description and to hear his stories and every piece of Neverland Mars had heard about. She'd wanted to compare it to the stories that her mother had told her. The ones she had told to Mars.

The belief that the young girl had was why Peter had come. He had thought she might have had the heart of the truest believer, and had watched her all day. But it soon became clear that even if she did believe, it wasn't enough. He had become distracted by Mars, who seemed to believe in nothing until it was dark, and then spoke to Peter as if he could hear her. As if she did it a lot. As if she knew he was there. It had been so intriguing that he had answered, and it had never been the same since.

Remembering it all, Peter felt his eyes fall to Maggie again as Mars wiped her own tears and then the younger girl's as well. He thought of the connection they'd had for a moment. The understanding. Maggie had brought them together on purpose. Maggie had known she wouldn't make it much longer; she wanted Mars to have somewhere to go. Wanted her to have hope and love and happiness. She was trusting Peter with that.

"To die would be an awfully big adventure," Mars answered, in response to Maggie's question.

Maggie smiled and Peter felt something... new. Something different and beautiful, blooming in his chest. Something like the love that he felt for Mars, but a little different too. Maggie looked back, and with her eyes that saw everything but chose to hold onto the brightest, she spoke to him. "I've seen you now. I can go." There was so much in that left unsaid, but he understood it all. He just nodded, promising her that Mars would be safe, and she relaxed. Relieved.

"No," Mars sobbed, hands gripping Maggie. "Come to Neverland with us. It'll heal you. We'll be okay."

Peter squeezed her shoulder. "She won't make the trip."

Mars let out the most labored, pained breath. "I don't want to lose you."

"You'll never lose me," Maggie told her. "I'll be in the stars, watching over you. I promise. I'll never be far. Talk to me like you used to talk to Peter. I'll hear you, just as he did."

Mars' eyes widened in surprise. "You..." she shook her head. "Of course you know."

A weak smile filtered over Maggie's face, just for a second. Then it fell. "Hold me Mars. I hate to ask but... I really have missed you, and it's the last time I'll get to. I don't want to feel alone."

Without words, Mars pulled the girl into her lap. Maggie could look up at the stars from where she lay, Mars pushing her hair out of her face and singing a song about Neverland. About eternal youth and running through the forest. Peter pulled out his pipe and played along with her and Maggie sighed.

"What beautiful music."

Peter wasn't surprised that she heard it.

The next day, Maggie was gone. She lay in the dirt, eyes wide open and fingers threading through the grass. It had seemed a crime to bring her back inside, so they had left her where she had always preferred to be: where she could watch the stars.

Mars and Peter stayed an extra week to attend the funeral. Mars didn't even have to ask; they both wanted to go, and Peter had left plenty of preparation behind that he could spare an extra week. It was as Maggie's body was lowered into the ground that the cloud of purple magic swept over the Enchanted Forest and took everyone to a new land. Just as Peter looked up, the hairs on the back of his neck rising, that he saw the thick magic cloud leer above them, and knew it was too late to run.

The curse had come, and it had taken Mars and Peter with it.

One second they were side by side, holding onto each other. The next second, they forgot who the other even was and were in Storybrook, no memory of Maggie or Neverland or the Truest Believer. The next time they see each other they don't even meet eyes or see each other in the crowd of hundreds. And it stayed like that for twenty years. Twenty full years of no Peter Pan, or Marzipan - just Elizabeth and Blake.

Strangers to each other, and truly lost for the first time in a very long while.

-

That purple cloud had returned, and now the boy stood in shock. He was frozen in place, blinking as he tried to orient himself in the reality that had just been turned on its head around him. He remained perfectly still as he moved slowly and stiffly, taking in his surroundings. Even as the school hallway he stood in erupted and went wild with clatter and chaos, he just stood there.

The air felt cool against his skin, as if the purple smoke had the power to change the temperature. It had, in a way. Had even more power than just that, too. Had the power to shatter the Earth under his feet, even as it passed over him without any real harm.

"PETER!"

The boy spun, eyes scanning the crowd and the internal ice that had locked him in place immediately melted when he heard her voice. After she spoke too many voices rang out above it, drowning her out, but he kept looking. He couldn't see her. Couldn't find her. Thankfully he didn't have to - she found him.

A body rammed into him and he didn't even need to look to know who it was. His arms wrapped around her immediately, face burying in her hair. She clung to him, and in turn he held her locked against him. He would hold her to him if it was the last thing he did. No one would take her away. Not again. Not ever again.

Her new scent was foreign to him. The feel of the fabrics on their skin were too. But... it also wasn't. Even as their bodies fit together in the same way, the scent of her perfume and the silliness of her hair falling against his arm seemed to be just as familiar... even as those things were completely new and different than how he'd known her before.

His head was spinning and all he could tell was that she was shaking. "I found you." The relief in her voice was enough to shake him into sense, and he took a quick breath before compartmentalizing the overwhelming mass of chaos in front of him.

He had a new battle though. Past the shock, there was a different struggle happening. A struggle between awkwardness and ease; between familiar and new; between the suddenness of being tackled by the girl he had been big time crushing on, and also the relief over the love of his life finally being reunited with him after so long of being missing from each other. Half of him didn't understand the deep relief he felt now. He didn't know her that well. They hadn't had time to fall for each other that deeply. Yet... the other half of him...

He wanted to say that he loved her and fly away to Neverland and never let go of her ever again and never return. He also was having a hard time recognizing that part of him as real, as the other half screamed that running off with a girl you barely knew when you were a junior in highschool was obsessive and unrealistic and insane on so many levels. He wasn't allowed to love her yet - he DIDN'T love her yet. But... then again he did.

Mars. Elise. Blake. Peter.

The girl in his arms finally looked up at him and her face spoke of a tear that he could feel in his own heart as well. Two different people, trying to coexist in one body.

"Can..." her face twisted, half confused and half frustrated. "Can I kiss you?" Mars would know Peter would say yes, but Elise knew that the question was too soon and too crazy. She didn't know if Blake would think she was as insane as she felt.

The boy sighed, full of relief, and for a moment the two sides of him united for one thing. No matter the reason, Blake and Peter both wanted to kiss Elise and Mars. "Please," he begged - mix of the assertive King of Neverland, and the shy and most often invisible bottom of the barrel Storybrooke high schooler.

Mars was surprised to hear the word from Peter, but Elise would have expected nothing less from Blake. Their noses brushed and their minds both went blank as they felt the others' breath fall over their face.

Elise - Mars? - popped up on her tiptoes and grabbed Peter's - Blake? - face, her lips crashing onto his. He leaned forward as her knees went weak and she fell back onto her feet as they flattened again. His height over her had never been more prominent than this moment.

With student and villagers and chaos around them, him against the lockers and her against him, they kissed. After a moment they parted, but still hovered close, settling in resting their foreheads together instead. "I love you," Peter whispered to Mars. She leaned back in part shock and part glee, her grey eyes swirling as they had hundreds of time. Blake admired them as he had been, and Peter noticed the beauty as he hadn't in a while. He used to see them all the time, but they'd been together long enough that the newness of her beauty had faded. Blake hadn't gotten there with Elise yet.

For a second there was a battle on the girl's face, but then she just smiled. "I love you too," Mars whispered back to Peter.

"And I also know that sounds insane," Blake gasped, eyes blinking as the confidence shattered in place of terror and uncertainty.

When she laughed, it was Elise who's bubbliness rushed through, past the stoic attitude and hard armor that Mars had always had. "I know what you mean." She sighed, shaking her head. "I- you-" Then she swallowed. "We'll figure it out."

"Always," he promised. "...Together?" That came out more unsure.

But she just smiled. "Always." It was a relief for both of them to hear.