Quick A/N: I don't normally put songs in my chapters, but when Lily starts talking about singing, please play the song. Thanks!

I sat bolt upright, breathing hard. My skin was crawling, but it had been doing that for days. I scratched absently at my arm. It was just dawn; the rosy sunlight shone through the tent's doorflap. I looked over at Felix, who snored dramatically. A weight lifted off my shoulders as I giggled.

"Alright, I get it. You're tired. Sorry, but its dawn, so get up." I poked his cheek annoyingly.

"Lil, sweetheart, you know I love you but go to hell," Felix groaned.

"Felix." Poke. Groan. "Felix." Poke. Groan. "Felix, get up." Poke. Groan. "Do I need to call Pan in here?"

He opened one eye and glared at me. "You wouldn't dare." I opened my mouth and took a breath. "I'm up, I swear!"

I laughed when he sat up. To my surprise, so did he. "Sounds like you've calmed down, huh? Good to know that making me miserable makes you feel better about yourself."

Lightbulb. He hadn't even been asleep to begin with. "You tricked me, you sneaky bastard."

He shrugged. "Guilty."

I smacked him lightly, but didn't respond. If he'd gotten a little more rest because of it, that was fine. Good, even. Felix did need to sleep more, even if he acted like he didn't.

It had been the Neverland equivalent of a few weeks since my last lesson. In reality it could have been two days or two decades. I still didn't have an answer from him, and it was beginning to frustrate me. He was the one who'd said that I would be dangerous without training. Now he told me I couldn't continue on my own, but he wouldn't train me either. Yeah, frustrated didn't even begin to describe it.

It was Felix's day for breakfast, so he went hunting alone. I hung out with some of the other guys for a while before Pan came up to us.

"I'll need to borrow Lily for a while," he said with a grin. They obediently backed away and continued their conversation a few feet away.

I crossed my arms and glared at him. "What do you want?"

"You followed directions," he said instead of answering. "That's pretty impressive."

"Shut up, I follow orders all the time."

He snorted quietly. "No you don't. It's not your nature. That's why it's so surprising."

"Was there a reason for this," I snapped, "or did you just decide that it would be fun to insult me?"

He cocked his head thoughtfully. "You're angry again. Are you ever normal?"

"Do you ever give a straight answer? Or would it kill you?" He just stared at me in amusement. "What the hell do you want? "

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to continue your lessons," Pan snickered. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting a reaction like this. Maybe you need a few more days..."

"I don't." I scratched my arms viciously. Maybe I'm allergic to Pan, I thought vindictively. Wouldn't that be convenient? I wouldn't have to deal with him ever again.

He didn't seem to notice the venomous thoughts going through me head. Instead, he seemed unduly focused on my hands.

"Let me see your arms."

I turned away, as if that would protect them from him, and hugged myself tightly. "No," I said childishly. It was scary how much I sounded like Michael in that moment.

Pan didn't seem to notice my behavior, or didn't show it. He gripped my shoulders tightly and spun me toward him, then grabbed my arm to examine it. Raised red lines ran up and down my skin, marring it. "How long has this been going on?" he asked curiously.

"A couple days, maybe? I'm just itchy, it's no big deal." I shrugged. Even I hadn't noticed how bad it had gotten, though.

He laughed humorlessly. "That's where you're wrong. You're coming with me, squirt."

That green fog surrounded us again, then I was in the woods. Er- deeper in the woods. For the moment, the itching was gone. I hadn't realized it would be such a relief; I'd gotten so used to it that I wasn't sure what to do with myself now.

Luckily, I didn't have to know, because apparently, Pan wasn't done talking yet. Great.

"Well, you're not doing as well as I'd anticipated, apparently. I thought we had more time before this happened," he muttered, almost to himself. "You must be even stronger than I'd thought."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "I don't care."

Someone chuckled behind me. Felix. I thought he was out hunting, but maybe he'd just happened to come across us. Unlikely. Pan had brought him here.

"It's hardly a laughing matter," Pan told him. "She's about to burst."

Wait, what? "Um... You mean figuratively, right?" He looked at me like I was an idiot. "Oh. Okay then."

"The only way I can think of to help you would be to bring your memories back. You'll find you have more control over your power when you can control yourself."

"I'm just here for moral support," Felix added. "It's probably going to be too much even for you to handle, Lil."

It took a minute for everything they said to fully process in my mind. When it had (mostly), I nodded slowly. "Okay. How long do I have before I turn into a giant splatter of Lily guts?"

"Long enough, I hope, to fully restore your mind," Pan said. "But you won't actually be guts. More like... Dust. Poof. No more Lost Girl."

"Oh, because that makes it better," I snapped. "Get it over with."

Felix put his hands on my shoulders and sat me down carefully. The only way I knew he'd seen my arms was through a sharp intake of breath. When I looked up, his face betrayed nothing. "It's not that simple, Lil. I wish it were, but both options are really dangerous, especially because you aren't in your right mind right now. You could be killed."

Well that sounded bad. "What is it?" I asked, my itching my arm again. It seemed my temporary reprieve was over. "What do you have to do?"

Pan sighed resignedly. "We don't have the time for questions. If we don't do it, you'll die for sure." He placed a hand on my forehead gently -more gently than I'd thought he was capable of. "This is going to hurt, love, but I'll try to make it as painless as possible. Felix, keep her down."

The world faded into a toxic green haze and I was in agony.

My lungs burned like fire. My skin boiled on my bones and my blood froze into slush.

"Shh, Lil, I'm here. You'll be alright, I promise. You'll be alright."

"I'm doing the best I can to make it better, love, but you've got to push through. You're the only one who can make it stop hurting. You've got to be stubborn."

Stubborn... I could do that. The haze of pain cleared slightly and I could function a little better. I stood somewhere dark and a thin white line extended in front of me, shining. Taunting me.

"Follow it," Pan said. Somehow, he stood next to me. I gave him a look and he shrugged. "I don't know. We're in your mind; I have nothing to do with it. You invited me in."

"Well, go away," I snapped, still in major pain and not wanting to deal with his crap right now. "This is my mind, and it's private."

He grinned and took hold of my arm mock-politely. "I know you wish it was that simple, love. But you're the one who invited me here. You needed a guide, and I'm here to be your loyal servant for as long as we're in your mind."

"So..."

"No, I'm not going anywhere. Now follow that string to your first memory," he instructed.

Nervousness made an iron fist in my gut. I knew I was frustrated, not being able to remember my past, but the lingering question haunted me: Did I even want to remember? Something told me that the answer was a definite no. There were some things that were too awful for anyone to have to remember.

"I... I don't know."

Pan looked at me carefully, his hand never leaving my arm . "It's okay to be afraid, you know. You don't know what you don't remember and I get it. It's terrifying. But this one doesn't look like one that you have to be afraid of. Just take a step. You'll be okay, I promise.

This isn't the real Pan. That much I could tell, even through the current torture my body was going through. The real Pan wouldn't even acknowledge fear, much less accept it. But the words worked nonetheless. I took a deep breath and stepped out onto the silvery thread in front of me.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking around. Everything was oddly blurry; It was as if I simply lacked the capacity to see clearly. A blur of color surrounded me, and my voice sounded oddly muffled.

Pan shrugged. "This is the very first thing you remember. It looks like you were just a baby when this happened."

A vaguely human-looking blob came into the room, humming. A baby cooed nearby and the large blob sang quietly, coaxing it- me -back to sleep. I was enchanted; the song was sweet and haunting, telling of promises of safety and freedom.

A sharp tug on my sleeve reminded me of Pan's presence, and of the invisible knives in my skull. "Come on," he said gently. "You'll keep the memories you uncover, so you can be nostalgic when you aren't about to die."

Another silver thread caught my eye, this time resting near my ankle. I nudged it with my foot, and found myself in the sane room, in another time. It couldn't have been much later, because the world was still a blur of color, but this time, it was mostly gray. Dust was everywhere, in my eyes and throat. Baby Me screamed hoarsely, showing her discomfort at this foreign, gritty substance invading her airways. The large blob- my mother? -rushed in, grabbed Baby Me, and rushed out, yelling for help. The entire building was being destroyed.

I rushed toward them, only to be stopped by Pan. "You can't help, love. This is the past. It's already happened."

"So what am I supposed to do?" I screamed at him. "I have to help!"

He shook his head slightly. "I know it hurts, but let it play out. You've got to see this through to the end."

I didn't want to. I wanted to waltz right up to the blurry people and save them- hear that song again, telling me that everything would be okay. But the reasonable tone of Pan's voice stopped me. He was right; these were just memories. I couldn't do anything about them.

My mother rushed out the door without a backward glance, and another silver thread shone near my calf. I nudged it unfeelingly and the scene changed yet again.

Everything came into focus immediately. We were in a wooden house. It was a little shabby, but it was clean; almost sparkling, actually, if unpolished wood could be said to sparkle.

"This is where I grew up," I said numbly. The guilt of leaving my mother to die ate away at me unrelentingly, leaving me simultaneously numb and in scorching pain. "I... I don't think I was happy here."

Pan looked around, seeming to know the room. "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. This isn't a very nice place."

I shook my head. "It wasn't the place."

The creaky door opened and a man with shoulder length brown hair and strange, scaly skin walked in without a word. He walked over to a corner and moved the rug on the floor, revealing a small trapdoor and pulling it open.

"Two hours, Uriel. No more. And I want this house sparkling for when my son gets home." The man's voice was slightly high pitched, which was unexpected. His words were polite enough, but for the girl with coal-black hair and dull blue eyes. Other Me struggled out of the floor in rags that barely counted as clothes for the lack of heat they could have kept in. I lost any respect I could have had for the man-thing in the doorway.

Other Me curtsied in her knee-length, burlap skirt. "Yes Mister Dark One, sir."

"See to it that it's done before that, then, and I'll let you go see your little friend across the road."

Other Me's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Thank you, sir!"

A quick, almost imperceptible shower of sparks shot at me, wiping the smile off my face and replacing it with a grimace of pain and fear. "You'll only get there if this house is shining. If it's not, you aren't going anywhere," he said, sinisterly wiggling his fingers at me. Both of us- me and Other Me -flinched. "And you'll be right back where you started."

"Yes, Mister Rumpelstiltskin," I murmured, rubbing my cheek a little before walking over to a mop and bucket in the corner.

I gave Pan a sidelong glance. "So, following orders isn't in my nature, right?" I asked bitterly.

"I take it back," he said, nodding his agreement. "Apparently, you just don't like to. And I can see why. This guy's a right ass."

The silvery thread appeared near my knee as I watched Other Me (god, this was getting confusing) clean the house with a vengeance. I nudged it lightly, instinctively knowing there wasn't much more to see here.

"You know him?" I asked quietly. Most of the physical pain had ebbed away, but the emptiness remained along with a dawning suspicion that Pan knew more than he was letting on. Obviously, I thought. Pan always knows more than he's letting on.

There was a pause as Pan seemed to consider his words carefully. "I did," he said finally. "But it was a long time ago."

We landed outside on a dirt road. It's the same day, I thought. A tall man with short, black hair- his name was Killian, I remembered -knelt next to Other Me. They spoke, too quietly for us to hear. I remembered the conversation though, so I paid it no attention and turned toward Pan again.

"What happened to him after I escaped?" I asked. Secretly, I hoped Rumpelstiltskin had died a horrible, painful death for all the suffering and pain he put me through my whole life, but I knew he hadn't. He was alive and kicking somewhere; the most I could hope was that he was suffering too.

"The last I heard, he was relatively angry with me," Pan said with a smirk. "His son wasn't happy at home, so Shadow brought him here and he became a Lost Boy. He tried to hunt me down, but Bae decided to stay with me."

What? "This creep's son... That was Baelfire? "

Pan looked at me in confusion. "I thought you would have known, considering you worked for him."

I shook my head. "I never met his son. I never even heard his name. When I wasn't cleaning the house, I was in my little cupboard. I think it was soundproofed too, because I never heard anything from upstairs. I didn't try yelling for help because if I did, he'd silence me with magic for weeks at a time."

As I spoke, dozens of memories came flooding back, and none of them good: a pitch-black cupboard that I barely had room to breathe in, nightmares of darkness and purple smoke, stinging slaps and harsh magical burns that didn't heal properly.

"Well that explains your claustrophobia and the fear of the dark and of magic. I wonder if heights was just something you came by naturally."

I gave him a level look. "You know way too much about me to actually be Pan. You're just a figment of my imagination, aren't you?"

He winked and shrugged. "How should I know? It's your mind, love. I'm just the help. But I think we can finish the spell now. Your memory will start to return on its own soon."

"I think that'll be fine. This has been a hell of a lot to take in," I admitted. It was easier to admit things like this to Pan when I knew it wasn't actually Pan. The real Pan would flay me alive for admitting weakness. This was more like... admitting it to myself.

You're rationalizing, a malicious little voice whispered to me. You just don't want to admit that maybe Pan isn't as much of an ass as you thought.

Physical feeling started to return to me slowly as I battled with my own demons. My head was in someone's lap— probably Felix's, I realized —and I was lying on the ground. A stray tree root dug into my side annoyingly. Felix brushed my bangs off my forehead lightly when I opened my eyes.

"Hey Lil," he said with a grin. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

I managed a weak grin, the full weight of everything I'd just seen crashing down on me at once. My life had really sucked. It was no wonder Shadow had picked me for his little joke on Pan. Here, have a that's just as screwed up as the boys. Let's see how you handle it.

"How're you feeling?" Pan asked me.

I snickered wanly. "Do you want the real answer or the brave one?"

Felix looked at me as I sat up. "Why do I get the feeling they're the same?"

"They're both 'crap.'"

Pan tapped his head. "I mean up here."

I shrugged. "Pretty normal, just a little out of sorts."

Both boys eyed me suspiciously. I was prone to making little of my own injuries, and they knew it.

"I'm fine, I promise." Except for the crazy new weight on my shoulders, I was. "But how was that supposed to help me learn to control magic?"

Felix shrugged. "Ask him."

"Once you get control over your memory, you'll be easier to teach. The problem lately," Pan raised an eyebrow before continuing, "Has been that you were volatile. Unpredictable. Once we fix that, its just a matter of teaching you the basics and letting you go from there. If you think you're ready for the work."

I far preferred my mental Pan to this sassy asshole. Wait, they were both sassy assholes. Never mind. "So how long?"

Pan held up his hands in the universal "How should I know?" gesture. "Probably a day or two. I honestly can't be sure, because it depends on the person."

Fantastic. "Ugh."

A flash of another memory went through my mind: waiting for the door to open. Just waiting for it for hours, every day.

"Whoa," I muttered. "What was that?"

"You'll get used to it," Pan said. "Memories are going to start returning to you on their own."

You already told me that, I almost said. Luckily I realized how bad of an idea that would be. Telling Pan that I'd subconsciously decided that I trusted him enough to see my worst memories would be humiliating, not to mention idiotic and hypocritical. I had spent a lot of time— years, at this point —trying to make it very clear that the only person I really trusted was a certain blond haired boy with a facial scar.

Not to mention the backlash from Felix, who seemed to think there was any possibility whatsoever of me falling for the sassy green-eyed boy with chestnut colored hair and an eyebrow that seemed to desperately want to escape off his forehead.

"Yeah, I know," I said instead, shaking my head to clear it of dangerous thought patterns. If I kept thinking that way, there would be a chance. Hey, give me a little credit. Pan's pretty cute for a guy that old. "But I really don't want them to."

The effect of my past was starting to rear its ugly head as depression rolled in. I stood up and walked away without waiting to be dismissed. Felix called out to me, but I didn't respond.

I needed to be alone with my own thoughts for a while.