I picked Tay back up on my back piggyback style. I had to get her back and I had to get her to someone who actually knew how the hell to take care of her in this crazy place. Unfortunately the first person who comes to mind is Pan and I don’t even know if he’s alive or if he royally pissed off the wrong monster… Don't get me wrong, I knew how to take care of someone and I'd saved Sam and Dean from a few close calls to the ER, but still what did I have to work with here? I can't exactly imagine up a full medical tent the same way that I could a plate of breakfast. 

I didn't know how long I ran throughout the woods, avoiding the reach of the tree limbs and doing my best not to get tripped by a stray root. Trying to find my way back, not to mention carrying another girl on my shoulders, wasn't the easiest thing a directionally challenged young adult turned teenager could do in a wild jungle without a map. Translation: I was royally screwed if I didn't figure something out quick. 

"HEY! IS THERE ANYONE HERE?!" The camp had to have been emptied in a rush, because the entire clearing was totally well clear by the time I got back. And wendigo were pretty good at kicking ass, but it couldn't have possible taken out the entire camp. 

"(N-Name)" 

"TAY! You're ok!" I leaned down to let her off my back. Even I got weak after trekking through a jungle with another girl on my back. My back cracked as I stood back up. 

"Heh... I can't believed you carried me the whole way back, for nothing."  Tay's eyes fluttered, like they were going to shut for good this time. 

"Tell me what to do to help you." 

"You can't. Dreamshade's a bitch." She smiled slightly at me before her face contorted into a painful grimace. "Can you" she cleared her throat, wincing as she did so. "Can you tell Devin something for me?" 

"What?" 

"Tell him... That I love him."

"No. Tell him yourself damnit!" I shook my head, how could someone ask me something that sounds so much like their death wish? 

"I-" her voice grew faint, the same purplish black lines creeping up her neck. She sucked in a deep breath, throwing her eyes to the sky. her lips parted again, "wish... I... could." 

"Tay? Hey! TAY!" I shook her by her arm. The sleeve of her shirt slipped down slightly, exposing more of those ominous dark lines. they looked like where her veins should be, but even when I'd seen carcasses of people with their blood sucked dry, I'd never seen this before. The veins were all a dark purple black, every single one of them. Even her hand turned that same dark shade, not to mention the veins running up her face. It even made a chill rush up my spine. 

"Hey! You- where's... Tay..." The brunette with the shaggy hair stopped in his tracks, looking towards where Tay's dead body lay. She had died just moments ago, and yet it was like rigor mortis had already begun to sink in. "She's dead." The shaggy haired brunette appeared from the woods. I stared at him in surprise. He was a Lost Boy, no doubt, but there was nothing really distinguishing about him from all the others. Though now I really had to notice him, since he was the only freaking person around.

"Who are you?" 

"Devin." 

Devin walked from the woods towards the body. I instantly recognized the name, it was one of the last words that had flowed from Tay's lips as she realized it was her final moments. 'Devin' the name of the boy she loved. 

"See those purple veins...? Dreamshade."

"People have been throwing that word around and I haven't asked, what does that mean?"

"Dreamshade is the deadliest poison in Neverland. It works slowly, but once it spreads, you're gone for. She didn't have a chance."

"The wendigo's claws..." It must have been focusing the poison out of its system that way.” Why didn’t I think of it earlier? Oh right, because this is a mad island that has vegetation with some serious personality. 

"Rest in peace Tay..." He stepped forwards, kneeling so he was besides the unconscious girl. He closed his eyes as he slid his palm against the side of her cheek, and then he swiped at a loose tear on his cheek. "I swear. That son of a bitch and any other sons of bitches like him- I won't rest until they're dead."

"She wanted me to tell you that she loved you... Don't throw your life away chasing after the things in the dark." How many people were blinded by the same thing? Blinded by vengeance, blinded by a grudge over someone who had already passed. They would pursue it till their death, wasting life on the dead- talk about an oxymoron. 

"Honestly lady?" A hollow laugh escaped the boy's lips- his eyes were cold. "They took the one thing I loved in this twisted world. They're going to pay."

"One person alone cannot take on the Supernatural," I warned.

"Oh but I'm not alone. I've got the Lost Boys with me, and Pan."

"We've still got a wendigo to kill." I walked off towards the direction you thought the hideout was in. He'd cracked. He was pushed past his breaking point. This was probably just a shell of the person Tay cared for.

“No. They’re taking care of it already. Pan led it back and into a trap he had the rest of us set up while you were gone. I’m supposed to lead you back to camp.”

“Wasn’t the camp just here?” I still wasn't quite over that one, not by a long shot. The boys relocating, alright I can see that, but the entire camp disappearing- now that was a stretch from believable, and that's coming from the girl who spent her life hunting down magical creatures all her life. 

"He moved it," the boy replied curtly. 

He led me through the woods again, on my own I surely would have been lost. I mean I could have tried to remember the way, but lets be honest that wasn't happening. I wished that I could at least help comfort the kid, but he still needed some time to himself to grieve. I wonder... Do Sam and Dean think I'm dead? Oh please no, not after what happened to their mom... Not after they've lost track of their dad. I need to talk to Pan, I really need to get back and I have a feeling that he's the only way I'm getting out of here. 

A pyre of smoke billowed into the sky, while hoots and hollers could be heard for miles. I was still surprised, that they actually managed to band together and take down that wendigo- considering it really didn't sound like they were all dead. A shadowy figure was being thrown up in the center of a ring of boys. I squinted my eyes and looked closer, surprised to see little Benjamin in the center of the fray like he was the MVP of a sports game.  I blinked a few times before tilting my head slightly towards the side. The smoke cleared quickly, leaving nothing of the wendigo but a pile of ash. I caught a glimpse of Pan, he was standing by the pile of ashes, with a victorious look on his face. Devin walked towards Pan, and I followed. The Lost Boys a ring around the remains of the fire where they must have burned the wendigo.  

"Tay's dead." It surprised me how the boy who had been clinging to his love's dead body could sound so cold just an hour later. 

I waited to see what Pan's reaction was to this bit of news, but he hadn't flinched. I couldn't tell if he had one hell of a poker face or if he genuinely didn't care. 

"I'm sorry Devin." Pan's face softened ever so slightly and what looked like concern shimmered in his eyes. At least, I don't think he was acting this time... He actually seemed like he was concerned for his Lost Boy, like a friend would be concerned for another friend. 

Devin was silent as he held his head down, avoiding eye contact. A short lapse of silence passed. "I thought you said that Lost Boys never apologized." Devin's head rose and he stared right at Pan. 

Pan's lips quirked into his smirk, I was starting to think that was his default expression. "That's right. And though you missed out on the fun this time, there'll be more to come." 

"Good. I'm going to head to my tent." Devin disappeared, leaving just me and Pan and the hooting of the Lost Boys in the background. 

"I thought that wendigo made a meal out of you." I said finally after a few moments of silence. I wasn't sure what else to say. Was he upset over Tay's death? Was he actually plotting something right now? Was he really a good guy or was he the bad guy or vice versa? 

"Why would you say that?" He sounded indignant, but at the same time looked like he was holding back a laugh. 

I shrugged my shoulders. 

"Don't worry about me, love. Peter Pan never fails." 

"Rise and shine, love!" Sunlight danced around the room of the small cottage you called your own. Actually it was Pan's, but you stole a guestroom and stayed there, so you called it yours anyways. 

"UGH! If I'm going to regress to the age of a teenager at least let me sleep in like one!" You complained. 

"That excuse worked a week ago maybe." Somehow without looking, you already knew that Pan rolled his eyes at you. You could feel his presence looming from the side of your bed, and yet you didn't particularly care enough to pull your face away from the pillow and look. 

"Go away Pan." 

"Last warning, love." 

"Go for it." You had no idea why he couldn't just use your name, it would have made this a lot easier on the both of you. 

"Alright." 

"What are yo- PAN YOU LITTLE SHIT!" You screeched just as you plummeted into the freezing waters of the waterfall. 

You pushed your sopping wet locks out of your face, knowing full well that he expected you to find the camp from this place. "One of these days I swear I'm going to kill that bastard," you grumbled darkly as you conjured yourself another outfit to wear. Now I gotta find the camp... and I swear if he relocates it them I'm stabbing him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So there's been a ship attacking ships on the Atlantic and then flying away? You think we're dealing with like the Flying Dutchman or something?" Dean asked. He took one hand off the wheel as he leaned back, country roads were the best for flooring it and never getting caught by the cops. Not that Dean ever got caught by the police anyways.

"How would we even get rid of a ghost ship anyways?" Sam asked. Hallowed ground would be a good way to get rid of it, but that wasn’t going to work in the water. And he knew that there was no way they could burn all the remains of the ship.

"Beats me. But dad sent us these coordinates, it's got to mean something," Dean said. 

"Don't you ever get sick of it?" Sam asked Dean suddenly.

Dean glanced at Sam from the corner of his eyes, trying not to completely take his eyes off the road. "No. Has dad ever led us wrong before?" 

"Still. No call? No nothing? Just sending us off and ordering us around with a vague text." Sam rolled his eyes, thinking that Dean wasn’t looking over.

"Look Sammy, I know you don't get along with dad, but (Name) would agree that this was worth checking off if she was here." 

Sam sat up and glared. "Don't play that card Dean." 

"Someone needs to get you some chocolate and stat." Dean laughed as he could feel Sam glaring holes into his side.  The joke was at best however, half assed, because both boys should have known not to even think about joking about. The argument was by no means over, but neither Winchester had the heart to continue once they touched upon one of their taboo topics, (Name).  The last time they talked about her must have been two months ago already.

~~~ Two Months Ago~~~

“What do you mean you can’t read the air?!” Dean threw his arms up in the air as trio stepped into the woods, the last place where (Name) should have been according to Sam, and yet Missouri still hadn’t ‘sensed’ anything.

“Boy don’t yell at me or Imma smack the stupid out of you!” Missouri shot a fierce glare at Dean; while he would normally back up in the face of some serious psychic fury he stood his ground and stared back.

He walked away hand pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to reign in his anger. “I mean, that’s what you said you could do right?” Dean turned around with an almost broken look on his face. “You said that you could sense her and find her if a spirit took her.

”(Name), everyone else, I’ve got nothing on her… I’m sorry dear, but maybe this wasn’t a spirit that took her.”

“But why wouldn’t she answer her phone?! Why wouldn’t she find a way to get back to us?!” Dean yelled.

“Dean! Calm down!”

“Calm down? Calm down?! (Name) is out there alone and you’re telling me to calm down?! What do you know?!” Dean stopped Sam before he could interrupt. “You don’t know because you left!” Dean shoved Sam away from his face, stomping toward the taller boy backwards and glaring at him. “I was the one who made sure nothing killed her! I was the one who promised her I would be there for her! You have no idea how I fucking feel right now!”

“I lost Jess, Dean! You think I don’t feel guilty about that?!” 

The two brothers were locked, green on green in unrelenting glares.

Dean started it, and he finished it with a simple phrase, “Take Missouri home.”

Sam blinked as the Impala keys were shoved into his hand. His fury dissipated as he watched his brother’s back growing smaller by the second- getting further from him. “Where are you going?” Sam asked weakly, too tired to argue with his brother now.

“I’ll be around,” Dean replied vaguely.

“Dean! I’m going to need more than just that!” Sam never got his answer. With a sigh, Sam followed behind Missouri back to the car, Dean was already long out of sight.

Sam got in the car, even Missouri having being shocked into silence. He didn’t even know where to start anymore. Missouri climbed into the car, letting out a deep sigh. “Y’know your brother is just really worried right?”

“I figured,” Sam said flatly.

“Don’t sass me boy, I’m giving you advice,” Missouri warned. “He’s a dumbass, but his heart’s in the right place. He’s lost the two people that have always been there for him. You’ve got to be that person now.” 

“Do- do you think she’s actually gone though Missouri?” Sam didn’t have to tell her that he didn’t know if he could be that person for Dean. If he could always just be another hunter living on the road, dropping everything in a second to go take care of some of those bastards. How long could he keep this life up before things started catching up to him and life went to hell? 

“Honey, I’m sorry but I don’t know. I just couldn’t sense her.”

“Could I even begin to be there for him…?”

“From what I figure, he’s always been there for you, I’m sure you can repay the favor.”

Sam blinked. His death grip on the wheel loosened as he let a sigh escape his lips.

Dean crashed into the bar, a man on the mission with the intent to take care of his needs and intent on drowning out his sorrows with alcohol and women. It took him all but ten seconds to find his target. A lone woman sitting at the bar, possibly a college student, brown hair and warm brown eyes. She expertly repelled the advances of just any bargoer that came her way. Dean took a seat besides the woman, flagging down the bartender for a beer. As the bartender scurried off, he noted out of his peripherals how she straightened slightly and he could feel her eyes running up and down his body.

“Well we don’t get much of your type around a bar in a humdrum town like this,” the words rolled off the woman’s lips as he glanced over at her, looking in her eyes first. They really were such a warm shade of chocolate, too bad he really wanted to see (e/c) eyes looking back at him. He blinked when he realized that she was still waiting for his answer, but at least his silence had been played off as gawking.

“Oh? So what type do you usually see?” He asked.

“Need you ask?” She swept her arm out around her gracefully; face scrunching at the sight of the drunks that filled the room.

Dean raised a brow, this was a lady with standards it seemed. From what Dean would bet, this was probably just a lonely college student or secretary or something, she was so out of her element. That pencil skirt that she wore was more practical for battling against the cold rather than for being thrown on the ground in a hot snare of passion. The blouse she wore look clean cut and uncrinkled, at least to the best of his knowledge. She was the kind of high class girl she would expect from a fancy schmancy college. Maybe Sam would like this chick, get laid and get off my case…

“Oh come on Dean, he’s your brother.”

“(Name) you and I both know that he’d slow us down. He probably wouldn’t even want to come,” Dean muttered as he saw another sign for Stanford University.

“Look, as far as I’m concerned John being missing is a family issue. I know you guys have basically raised me, but still Sam should be here too.”

“(Name)”

“I… I want to see you two get along like you used to…” (Name) trailed off, sighing slightly as she slouched in the front seat. Dean knew that she knew he hated when she used that face, that little sad kicked puppy face that would get her anything even from the hardiest hunter. “Sam still emails me y’know… He still worries about you and John, he just won’t say it. I bet you anything that if you went to get him and told him that John was missing, he would be here in a heartbeat.”

“Sometimes I hate when you’re talking rationally,” Dean muttered under his breath as he turned down the Stanford exit.

“Please, you’d miss me if I was gone,” (Name) challenged cheerfully.

I do miss her. So fucking much. Just admitting the thought to himself hurt. Admitting you were gone is like admitting that part of him is gone with you. He already lost his dad damnit, why’d he have to lose you on top of that? Who’s next? Sammy? Sammy… Dean thought, a sad frown crossing his face as he stood.

Dean chugged down his beer without savoring the rush of the alcohol down his throat like he usually would.

“You seem like a nice girl, you shouldn’t be in a bar full of these kinds of people,” Dean said. He turned away from the girl. “You’ve probably got a family who cares about you at home.”

Sam drove back to the town, apprehensive and unsure about where he would begin to find Dean. He frowned as he caught sight of a familiar figure on the edge of town, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against a lightpost.

Dean climbed into the passenger’s seat, silent. Sam stared at his brother, not sure whether he should break the silence first or if Dean planned to. He drove straight through town, past the diner where they once ate, past the hotel where they once stayed, and past the forests Sam once remembered being lost in.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Dean said suddenly.  “You’re an idiot. I’m an idiot. We need to stick together because hell, who do we have now?”

“Dean… Look man I’m sorry.”

“Mhm.” And that was as close as he was going to get to an apology, Sam supposed.

~~~~~~

Later that night, Dean and Sam finally made it to the east coast. The Impala pulled up into a nondescript motel by the shore, being that it was the only one flashing a vacancy for the night. 

"Seaside huh? Better be fancy. Or else I'm going to have to spend a few extra rounds at the table for nothing," Dean grumbled. Sam yawned a bit as he followed his brother into the hotel lobby. Dean looked at the woman over at the clerk's desk and let out a small grin. A form fitting blouse hat allowed for just enough cleavage to pop out and a tight short black skirt that showed off her nice tan legs. Dean figured it must have been a perk of living in a seaside town. He wasn't complaining. "You stay here. I'm gonna see if I can get us a lower rate~" 

"Gross. Make it quick." Sam leaned against the outside of the building. He didn't want to watch his brother flirt, or rather schmooze, his way into a room and possibly that lady's pants, skirt, whatever. Once he peered in and saw the woman leaning father on the counter, hopelessly looking up at Dean and batting her eyelashes, he knew that it was already too late. Great... I'll be out here all night. Sam decided that he might as well stay on the shore and wait until Dean called him or something... Whenever that would be. 

The calm lapping of the seawater on the sandy shores was soothing to him. In the pale moonlight Sam thought about how Jess might have enjoyed this while she was alive. It would have been the kind of romantic thing right from a cheesy chick flick; laying on the sand while the calm waves slid back and forth past their toes, moon watching down on them. He thought about how (Name) would enjoy herself here. He swore that he didn't know anyone crazier than that girl. She would probably jump right into the water and start splashing him until he was soaking wet. Sam smiled at the thought of the two most important girls in his life. They weren't all too similar asides from supporting him, and being incredibly intelligent. Jessica wasn't the wildest though while (Name) moved like a hurricane. They do share something important in common though. They're both gone and it's my fault... Sam thought while frowning. (Name)... I won't lose you too. I can't keep losing the people I care about. 

Time dragged on for the solitary Winchester. The only signs he had of time passing was the position of the moon and it still hung in the same position that it had been in for awhile now. Dean, I'm gonna kill you...  Sam continued to watch the shore, wondering if this really would be the next place that pirate ship was going to stop. Then again... Dad's usually not wrong. No matter how much I hate to admit it. Sam stared harder as a large mass floated along the shore. No... I'm dreaming right...? It wouldn't just be right there- right near the shore where anyone could look out and see it? Too easy usually meant too good to be true in this line of work. And that ship had all the potential for trouble.  Sam watched the ship float through the water. He could hear loud, raucous noise coming from the ship. 

'Aye! I pillaged that town, and its woman too!' Laughter filled the night air. Sam furrowed his brows. The flag upon the ship did not bear the markings of a navy or a coastguard ship. Neither did the design of the ship's shape itself. Every aspect of the ship itself screamed pirate. He could vaguely make out the silhouettes of people carrying mugs of what Sam assumed was rum. 

Huh... Doesn't seem like any kind of ghost ship I've heard of, but then again, would being a pirate ship make any sense either? 

The ship floated along in the ocean before drifting into a the side of a cliff-face.  Ok... Did... Did it just disappear into the side of a cliff completely??? Maybe it is a ghost ship... 

"Sorry Dean. This doesn't seem like a normal ship." Sam rose from his position, not sure how much time he would have had if he waited for Dean to finish flirting (or even having sex). The younger Winchester stuck to the shadows, moving soundlessly as possible. He was all too aware of the knife he carried on his person. He couldn't exactly bring a shotgun with him on the beach, which would be way too suspicious. As he got closer to the ship he realized that the cliff-face was hollow- there was actually a hidden cove. Thankfully it was low tide right now and Sam could barely walk along shallow waters to get over to the cave. He snuck along, quietly as he possibly could. He walked along the rock side of the cove, hiding behind a conveniently placed pillar. If this was actually a ghost shop then would there really be a crew? Spirits don't usually work together like that... 

"Alright men! Tonight- we shall be one step closer- to our treasure! And nothing shall stand in the way!" There were hoots and hollers from the crew members. They were all dressed in standard pirate attire, the chest revealing loose attire that pirates were all too famous for. Some were equipped with eyepatches and a few had substituted their limbs for a hook hand or a peg leg here and there. 

Sam fell to his knees and heard a dull thump as his body fell to the floor. For a second his vision went black. An excruciating and relentless throb pounded at his skull and dragged him back to consciousness. He reached for the knife he had on him, only to realize that it wasn't there. Shit! Must've fallen out on the beach!  He swore, but spun around to face the attacker in the eye. Light blue green eyes stared down at him, practically glowing in the darkness of the cave. 

"What a hard head. Afraid I'd dented my flask." The darkly clad pirate tilted his head as he looked down at the fallen Winchester.  Sam tried to crane his head for a better look, but the moonlight refused to touch this corner of the cave. "Looks like we've got a rat on deck." A smooth blend of a British-Irish accent flowed from his lips sardonically. Sam tried to sit up. A black boot slammed him back onto the ground. 

"AGH!" Sam's head hit the ground again, the ache from earlier multiplying. 

"And when there's one rat, more will surely come." The pirate leaned down, grabbing the subdued Winchester and lifting him from his shirt collar. 

Dean walked out of the motel, whisking cheerfully. "Sammy! Sammy where are you?" Dean singsonged. "Aww don't be pissed I hooked up with the hot desk girl and left you out here!" He looked around every place that Sam might be nearby. "You should've just asked for the impala keys!" Dean was willing to bet that Sam heard him, but he was probably just too pissed to respond. He even made it a quickie too… He just had to wait for her shift to finish, which probably took like what an hour? Maybe less?

 Dean looked around at the ground, looking for any tracks that Sam might have left. He finally saw them, leading out toward the shore. He shook his head. Sam could be such a flowery sap. Scratch that. Sam was always a flowery sap, living in the land of meadows and sensitivity. Man... I need to get Sam laid,  Dean thought as he followed the footprints. Print after print, and yet still no sight of Sam. He saw something floating along in the water where Sam's footprints had disappeared. 

"SAMMY?!" He could see the silver gleam of the knife's edge in the water, but what was a knife without someone to actually use the knife? Dean picked the knife out of the water, wiping the saltwater from his hands on his pants.

Dean could hear his cellphone ringing in his pocket. Dean pulled the device out with his free hand, staring at the caller ID, 'Sammy'. 

"Sammy! Where are you?" Dean asked the seconds that he opened the phone. 

"Sorry mate, Sammy's a little tied up right now." 

"Who the hell are you? I swear to god I will make you regret ever being born," Dean threatened. 

"Oh I'm shaking. I'm going to need a little favor from you and your brother~ and I do believe that we can both benefit from this arrangement." 

"I don't make deals with cowards,” Dean clenched his jaw. How did they just the jump on Sam? 

"Alright. Then how about this? We can meet face to face, no tricks." 

"Just you, me and my brother then?" 

"Oh no. Just you and me, your brother's going to be the extra incentive." 

"When and where?" Dean clenched his jaw, feeling his blood boil at the thought of Sam being held hostage. 

"Right here, right now. Being late isn't good form." 

"You snuck up on me," Dean commented in surprise. 

"I try," the smooth British-Irish voice responded. Dean looked up and down at the darkly clad male. 

"Don't tell me you're the fucking pirate we're after." 

"Oh my reputation precedes me. Captain Hook at your service." 

"... Captain Hook? As in the same Captain Hook from the fairytales?" 

"Not quite."

"Ok, so what the hell do you need from me and my brother? Do you want us to get rid of the crocodile in Neverland?" Dean drawled sarcastically. 

"Oh, that old thing has been taken care of for awhile now," Hook waved his, well, hook around in the air. "No, I need you to take care of Pan." 

"Pan? Do you mean Peter Pan? You've gotta be joking me, my life is getting invaded by Disney freaks." Dean put his palm to his face, hoping that this was seriously one hangover induced dream. 

"You might also know Pan as the Pied Piper Spirit." 

Dean took his hand off his face, staring Hook down and trying to see whether or not this man was lying to him. Both males were dead serious.  

"My crew saw you lurking around that town the other month, with your lovely psychic friend. If my hunch is right then I know exactly where your lost friend is."  

"... How do I know you're not lying?" 

"I'm not the one who abducted your friend, I’m not your enemy.” 

"No? But you did take my brother hostage."  

"Semantics. I don't do favors, but I will help you get your friend back, so long as you keep Pan occupied while I take care of some business. Simple. You scratch my back and I scratch yours." 

"Yea? Or you backstab us?" Dean gestured to the hook. 

"Unless you know some other way to cross dimensional portals to get to Neverland I suggest making up your mind," Hook suggested. 

"You get us into Neverland, we get (Name) and keep Pan busy, while you do whatever it is you have to do, and then you take the three of us back to Earth?" 

"Simple." 

 "What are you trying to get back from Peter anyways?" 

"Well I'll tell you and your brother when we're back on my ship." 

"Always wanted to go on a real pirate ship," Dean mused as he followed the hooked man. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"WHERE THE HELL IS HE?! I'M GOING TO CASTRATE THAT BOY!" Your glorious entrance into camp included a full image of you waving a knife around like a madwoman. Be it that this is how you usually came into camp, but no one seemed to mind your usual outbursts since they had a week to adjust. Many of the Lost Boys just smirked at your usual antics. 

"Ah! (Name)! Just in time! We're preparing for a hunt!" Pan floated gleefully down, a wide smirk on his face. 

"A hunt for WHAT?" Your expression wrinkled up distastefully. If there was anything that you learned, it was that you should trust a smirking Pan as much as you trusted a conman. It was just that simple. However he seemed to always be smirking as well... 

"Haven't you learned to stop questioning me?" Pan sighed laboriously glancing over at you with a glare locked on his expression. 

"Haven't you learned that I'm not your blind follower? Besides I'm still pissed off you teleported me to a fucking waterfall!" 

"Apparently. You insist on making everything difficult." Pan rolled his eyes as he stepped down in front of you. "Look, this guy's dangerous. He's a proficient fighter, proficient enough that he's survived everything else that this island had alone. This morning, he went after one of my boys on patrol." 

"I don't hunt humans." 

"He killed that boy on patrol. I didn't get a report of this, I got a dead body." Pan's eyes were dark and the smirk was wiped clear from his face. 

"I don't believe you," you stated simply, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"H-He did. He almost got me too, but I just managed to get away," small little Benjamin approached carrying his head straight. After the incident with the wendigo, Ben had really proven himself a real Lost Boy and found his place in the camp as the quickest runner and scout. He had apparently managed to outrun the wendigo and led it straight into a trap. Pan didn't have to say anything, the smug 'I told you so' face of his did all the talking. 

"I'm not in the business of hunting humans Pan." You shook your head. 

"But you could get close to him, he might kill any of my boys, but you're different. I just need you to tell him to back off. I can't guarantee I won't kill him if I saw him," Pan said. 

"Why the hell'd you call it a hunt then?" You sighed. Why couldn't he ever just tell you things straightforwardly you would never know. He shrugged before making a map. 

"If you head northwest from here then you will find the hut he is staying in. At the rate you travel you should be there by midday when the sun hangs the highest." 

"Alright. I'll be back around dinner." 

"I could just teleport you there," Pan suggested. 

"Like hell. Last time you did that I was in a waterfall." You turned away without giving his offer a second thought.