"How many boys were cut?" James asked; Felix shrugged.

James, Felix and I stood outside Pan's tent, who slept inside and hadn't woken in hours.

"Just...try and treat as many as possible," I said, rubbing the base of my neck. My mind was completely clouded. Just as things were becoming semi-normal... Without saying anything, I turned around and walked into Pan's tent, closing the flap behind me. His shirt had been taken off, exposing the herb-treated cut as he laid on his back. His plump lips were together, his forehead beaded with drops of sweat. I walked over to him and pulled a chair over, sitting beside him. Near his pale body was a cloth lying in water, the wooden bowl having intricate engravings that caught my gaze for a while.

Lifting the object into my hands, I examined the scene of dancing lost boys around a fire, plastered into wood. It was beautiful...and was now only being used to hold a dirty cloth.

I placed it back down, squeezing the cloth in my hand and beginning to dab Pan's wounds; he did not awake in pain, nor did his eyelids flicker. He looked as good as dead, but I refused to believe he had passed away.

"One day..." I started, hesitant in wondering whether or not he could hear. But alas, I continued, slowly blotching the wet cloth onto his open skin. "You'll be able to show me more of Neverland. We won't have to worry about all of...this."

Pausing, I let out a deep sigh, pursing my lips as I placed the cloth back into the bowl, my hand damp. I didn't know how long it would be until he awoke – if he even did awaken.

But he was Peter Pan. He couldn't die from an infected boo-boo, right? He was the Devil, living and breathing...brought down by a cut. I found it quite funny, but didn't reveal my sense of humour. I couldn't, not if he truly was dying.

"How's he holding up?"

It was Ethan, smiling reassuringly as he walked up beside me. He placed his hand against my shoulder, squeezing it as our eyes moved to the pale body called Pan. I shrugged, my lips twisting.

"The same," was the best I could come up with and as Ethan pulled up a chair to sit next to me, I continued speaking. "It's odd to see him in this state."

"Vulnerable and on his death bed? Yep," he replied, chuckling. All I did was crack a grin before it faded practically a second later. "Nah, he'll be fine."

"You don't know."

"I do know," he said, my eyes flicking over to meet his. I couldn't read his face, but something told me he was holding back information. "Felix and James will be back soon."

"And what, they're gunna perform voodoo?" I said as a joke, but genuinely wondering why and where Ethan got his confidence from. He winked, saying, "yep".

I knew he was joking and the two of us shared a smile before he patted my knee twice and headed out of the tent, leaving Pan and I alone once again.

+++

Just as Ethan had said, Felix and James returned and when they wanted to shoo me from the room, I sternly held my ground and refused. If they were going to save Pan, I was going to be there, no questions asked.

The three of us stood before Pan, looking down on him as if he had already passed away. Felix held one of Killian's leather flasks and I pondered on where Felix had gotten it from. Did he acquire it as a gift a long time ago? Did Killian drop it in the woods and did Felix find it? Had Killian offered to help Pan? I didn't have time to question because before I knew it, Felix was pouring the liquid into Pan's mouth.

And then Pan awoke, flinging his torso upwards into a sitting position and starting a coughing fit. Felix sheathed the flask like some sort of weapon and turned on his heels, heading outside in silence. Judging from his attitude, I should have followed...but I stood still, watching Pan finishing his coughs and refusing to look my way.

"Serena, you coming?"

It was James, standing near the exit and holding up the tent's flap. He seemed tired and clearly impatient. I rolled back my lips and turned to see Pan, staring into his lap. His arms were extended behind him, keeping his body upwards as he took deep breaths, eyes glazed over.

I gulped down whatever was forming in my throat and turned around, heading towards James. Just before I took a step outside, I heard the weak and strangled voice of Peter Pan.

"Serena, wait."

My footsteps froze and I stared into the dark abyss of Neverland's jungle, James and Felix gone from my view. A part of me wanted to keep walking, but I couldn't bring myself to.

And so, I turned back around and headed inside the tent, closing the flap behind me.

+++

Pan looked weak, but at least he was alive. That was the main thing.

I walked over and sat in the chair I had been in before, his tired eyes watching my every move; it was quiet but there was no awkward tension. Instead, my eyes looked over his body and watched the wounds slowly closing up and healing through the island's magic. I wonder what Felix gave him...I thought to myself, lost in a trance.

And then it broke as Pan heaved himself up a bit more, bringing his face closer to mine. His breath was warm, tingling my skin.

"I'm surprised you didn't kill me in my sleep," he slurred his words, smirking. I chuckled, looking into his green and ever-so beautiful eyes that never ceased to amaze me.

"And why would I do that?" I asked semi-playfully, not knowing what his response would be. He was Peter Pan: I could never predict him.

"Because then I wouldn't have been able to do this."

Without another word, he brought his lips to mine and they collided like the birth of a star. His lips were as soft as I had expected them to be, warm and tender. The feeling of being kissed flowed through me – I had never felt so alive on an island where time and emotions stood still. His hand moved me in closer as he made the kiss more passionate – but not rushed, not at all. It was slow and beautiful, loving and amorous.

So this is what it feels like to be loved by the devil.

+++

After our kiss, Pan seemed to have more colour in his cheeks, more awake and alive than before. I didn't question it and stood in silence as he put on his shirt.

Pan and I walked out of his tent to see...well, the unexpected. I took a sharp breath in as James, Felix and Ethan came to our sides.

I may not have known the boys well and considered them idiots, but the sight was sure to scar my mind for eternity.

Scattered around the camp laid the boys, bloody and dead. Some had their eyes open, hauntingly staring at me with no life. My shaking breaths were loud in the silence of Neverland, and I felt James place his hand on my shoulder.

An ache in my chest arose and it pained to breathe, my eyes beginning to sting. I met James' gaze, which showed reassurance and concern, but it didn't lift the stress.

I wanted to live normally here, whatever 'normal' was.

But seeing this much death was enough to make me feel sick...and worried for the future.

James dropped his arm and Pan curled his arm around me, pulling my body into his chest as my shaking hand clawed at his arms. I started to sob, weak and exposed in front of them all.

I, Serena, was not one to stare at the death of so many innocence boys and not feel something. My face dug into his neck, his hand protectively against the back of my head.

As much as I wanted to ignore the order, I couldn't – I still heard it.

"Pile the bodies and burn them," I heard Pan grumble, refusing to loosen his hold on me, which I was grateful for. In his arms, I was slowly beginning to release tension, my clawing hands had stopped and now hung lifelessly by my side.

I closed my eyes, my face still hidden in the crook of Pan's neck. The pain was easing, slowly...but it was easing.

But if I were to survive on Neverland, I had a feeling that I would need to get used to seeing death.

The next day, neither of the boys came to wake me. I awoke at my own leisure, got dressed when I wanted to and by late morning, I stumbled out of my tent and saw Ethan and Pan sitting by the burnt logs.

Before disturbing them, I watched as they spoke like mates, Pan occasionally grinning and Ethan occasionally chuckling. The scene, in comparison to the previous night, made me smile and gave me a glimmer of hope the future – it was small, but it was there.

Leaning against the tree with folded arms, I watched the two boys. Pan sat with split legs, elbows on each knee and hands clasped together. He seemed serious, and yet Ethan looked completely laid back. But that was Pan, and that was Ethan.

Speaking of the devil, he turned his head to see me and grinned; Ethan did the same, his gaze switching between the two of us before mumbling, "I'll let you guys be alone" and walked off.

I stood up straight and walked over, replacing Ethan's spot on the blog beside Pan.

"How are you feeling, little bird?" he asked, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I smiled and for once, the nickname didn't make me feel as if I was being mocked: it was the tone in which he spoke, and his new-found sight he had of me.

Pursing my lips and nodding, I took a deep breath through my nose, keeping my jaw clenched.

"I'm okay," was all I said, turning to meet his eyes – those lustful, green emerald gems that made me quiver beneath its gaze, that made me remember the touch of his lips and making me want more.

Raising an eyebrow, Pan looked down to his clenched hands and then up into oblivion.

"Felix and I will be visiting town tomorrow," he said and like me, rolled back his lips and clenched his jaw. "We'll be gathering a new tribe of boys."

"What?" I said out of instinct, a wave of disbelief hitting me as I got to my feet. "They died last night and you already want to replace them?"

"Well, I'm not going to sit here all-day grieving, am I?"

"Peter, how can you say that?" I said, blinking a couple of times, trying to wrap my mind around how he could be so heartless at times. And then I realised I said his first name for once.

"Because, Neverland is a place of survival. They died, end of story."

I sighed, rubbing the base of my neck as I re-took my spot beside him. All this death, all this carelessness towards the boys – I wondered if, behind that tough skin, he could feel something other than...well, not caring at all.

I remembered his lips against mine, the sweet sensation that had burned in my mind.

And now we were sitting here, discussing the replacement of old friends.

Well, clearly they weren't friends to Pan...and were they even mine? Was it good to have a fresh start, no matter how harsh it sounded?

"Serena, look at me," he said suddenly, bursting the air with noise after a silent minute. Without hesitation, I did as he commanded and he placed his right hand against my cheek. "Everything I do has a reason," he said, his eyes scanning mine until he leaned his head in, his warm breath tingling my lips, his own lips almost brushing mine. "Everything."

And with a blink of my eye, he was gone.