"What's the plan?" You asked casually, looking wistfully out into the clouded sky above.
"Revenge." Came the simple reply behind you.
"Eloquent as ever." You quipped, turning back to him smoothly.
Hook wasn't looking to you, or even in your general direction, as he stared at the sleepy little town of Storybrooke upon the horizon. Following his gaze, you felt distaste coil through you.
It never seemed to matter where you went, how beautiful the land or how magical the horizon, you had always felt a blatant dislike for everywhere. Despite the strength of these negative feelings, you had never given so much as a thought to the reasoning behind it, assuming instead that you must belong among the tremendous waves. If you were truly honest with yourself however, you could admit that not even the sea felt like a home to you.
Quickly glancing away from the approaching dock, you shot a glance to Hook once more - scanning his features in an attempt to guess at his thoughts. In the end, you weren't left guessing. "He's here somewhere."
Rolling your eyes, you huffed dramatically. "Do you ever get tired of seeking revenge?" Your question was sarcastic and thankfully, he took it as such. As you peered curiously at the woman stood upon the ship's bow, you posed another, more serious, question to Hook. "Can we trust her?"
Following your gaze. it seemed as though Hook clenched his jaw at the sight. "Probably not." He told you simply.
Docking went smoothly, but Hook almost feinted when Cora made his ship disappear. Once he had finally recovered, realizing that the Jolly Roger was only invisible and not completely gone, he shot you a warning glare; telling you not to sarcastically tease him as you had so desired.
Glumly, you followed his wishes - uttering not a single word about his melodramatic reaction.
Standing upon the wooden docks, staring blankly into Storybrooke, you huffed and, with an almost bored attitude, considered the possible problems you may be soon facing.

How this had happened, you had absolutely no idea.
Back aboard the Jolly Roger, with the addition of the blonde, the dark haired witch, the sickly-sweet couple and finally, Hook's crocodile, was honestly the last place you had been expecting to end up.
After having traveled alone with Hook for as long as your memory could stretch, being surrounded by so many people on the Jolly Roger was a little disconcerting.
"I really think you should stay here." Hook had sidled up to you awkwardly, his gaze not meeting yours as he eyed the ship's other occupants with apparent suspicion.
This wasn't the first time he had attempted to convince you to stay, but this time he seemed a little more resigned to the fact that you were coming no matter his reservations. If anything, his persistent attempts had made you even further determined to travel with them. If he really was so determined to keep you away from this place, it must be something pretty special; Hook was more than aware that you could look after yourself.
"Storybrooke is honestly, the last place I want to be." You told him smoothly, glancing now at the glittering portal swirling through the once calm water.
"You've said that about everywhere."
Breathing a laugh, you smirked and nodded; he had a point.
The trip through the whirlwind portal was about as fun as you had expected. The initial fall into the whirlpool had entirely knocked the balance from you, practically forcing you into the railing that you stood beside. The momentary weightlessness you felt was only matched in strangeness by the walls of shimmering water that towered on either side.
Then, without warning, the ship leveled out upon the serenest of seas. The towering walls of magical water were instantly replaced by an endless shimmering sky while the faraway horizon revealed a lone island, separated entirely from everything else.
The shine of mystical moonlight made the deep green of leaves and gnarling trees seem sinister, and yet so enticing.
The snaking smile on your features sprung up unexpectedly as you took the last few steps to the edge of Hook's ship, your hands grasping blindly at the wooden railing.
As Hook's presence prickled your right side, you turned to him wondrously. "Where are we?" You asked him, voice nothing but a hushed whisper.
Sighing in exasperation, with eyes darting cautiously across the horizon, he ran a hand down his face. "Neverland." He told you quietly, almost nervously.
"Sounds interesting." You told him, with a smirk.
Somehow your uncharacteristic enthusiasm panicked Hook even further. Considering how often Hook complained about your indifference to everything and everywhere, you would have thought he would have been pleased by your show of excitement.
"What?" You questioned, uncertain as to the source of his uneasiness. He avoided answering by glancing back to the residents of Storybrooke.
Cursing, he quickly stepped away from you and towards the now brawling group. At some point the crocodile seemed to have disappeared, his presence being replaced by sudden turbulent winds and bullets of rain.
Strangely, the sudden tempest didn't bother you in the slightest, neither did the sultry mermaid that had suddenly arrived on deck and, perhaps even more oddly, neither did the demonic creature that had suddenly arrived beside you.
Your reaction was calm and collected, as orange eyes bored into yours. It appeared that you were the only one to notice the creature, the others too busy yelling and arguing furiously.
The wind whipped around you fiercely and the rain pounded into your skull but you barely noticed. A shadowed hand reached out towards you slowly, smoothly and, without thought, you accepted the cold grasp.
Somewhere, buried deep in the recesses of your mind, your thoughts were screaming at you; what possible reason did you have for this decision? What ridiculous logic had driven you to calmly fly off into the night with this shadowed figure?
Arriving quickly among the towering trees, the figure soon left you. Alone upon the mainland, you should have panicked, at least slightly, but instead you calmly glanced around. Fingertips reaching out to brush against the coarse leaves and rough trunks, you stared up at the covering canvas of gnarling branches with almost reverent eyes.
Footsteps sounded first, followed swiftly by a cacophony of yells and the occasional metallic clink of blades. Sharply glancing around, suddenly on guard, you pulled out the jagged dagger that you had always kept tucked in your boot.
What could only be described as a ragtag gaggle of boys weaved through the trees towards you then, except they weren't moving towards you at all - in fact most of them ran right past you. With confusion creasing your eyebrows, you relaxed somewhat as no immediate threat presented itself.
"TigerLilly." Rounding your gaze on the boy who had spoken, you felt uncertainty stab through you - alongside a jolt of some misplaced recognition. The boy was taller than the others, and clearly older, a long jagged scar marred the once youthful features of his face and a brutal looking club was balanced casually upon his shoulder.
His gaze was expectant, as though there was something he expected you to say or do but unfortunately the word 'TigerLilly' didn't strike you as strongly as he clearly thought it should.
Taking an apprehensive step towards you, his features matched your own confusion. "TigerLilly?" He repeated, as more of a question than anything else.
Gripping your blade more strongly, causing your knuckles to turn a deadly white, you consciously took a step back. "Who's TigerLilly?" You asked, finally recognizing that he was saying a name.
Stopping short, he looked at you oddly. "You don't remember." It was a statement not a question but it doubled your confusion. Glancing slightly behind you for a moment, the boy seemed unsure as to what to do next.
Walking towards you slowly, gaze flickering just momentarily to your dagger, he held a hand up in defense. "Follow me." Seeing as you stayed rooted to the spot, he glanced to the side awkwardly. "Please." He added the word as though it were some great chore to utter.
Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you nodded, almost imperceptibly, and stepped to follow him.
Sparing a glance towards him as you walked, you noticed how suddenly tense he seemed. "What are they chasing?" Your question seemed light, as you gazed through the trees in an attempt to regain sight of the boys.
Hearing a huff, you looked back to him. "Just a rouse." He told you, looking extremely exasperated with the entire situation. "You really don't remember anything?" He barely seemed to be able to believe it.
Raising your eyebrows, you gave him a look. "And what is it I'm supposed to remember?" Your tone was stern and biting.
He didn't answer, preferring instead to carry on walking beside you in silence.
After around ten minutes of a steady stroll, the pair of you reached a clearing. Broken off trunks were strewn around the makeshift camp - clearly to be used as some sort of seating, a large pile of smoking logs and leaves was located in the center of the clearing and there were shining weapons scattered about the floor.
Suddenly suspicious, considering that it was just you and this stranger of a boy alone in the clearing, you glanced up to him. Seeing your raised eyebrows, he huffed again and gave the 'camp' a visual sweep. "Wait here," as he instructed you he held out a staying hand, as though you wouldn't understand the meaning of his words. "Pan'll figure this out."
He began to walk away then, but your hand shot out to grab his arm, effectively halting him in his movements. "Who's Pan?" You asked, curiosity suddenly burning hot inside you.
Hastily pulling his arm from your grip, he mumbled his reply. "You'll see." And then, he left you alone in the clearing.
For the best part of half an hour, you were left entirely alone. You wasted the time as best you could, kicking pebbles around, picking at the ends of your hair and generally wondering about what Hook and the others were up to. Strangely, you felt little remorse over leaving so unexpectedly.
When boys began re-entering the clearing you found yourself sitting up straighter, expectantly - except, you weren't exactly certain as to what you were actually expecting to happen. Spotting the boy from earlier, you debated whether or not you should move over to him, demanding that he tell you what was going on.
Just as you were about to jump to your feet and stride over, another boy entered the clearing. He looked about the same age as the scarred boy, except his hair was clearly darker and he stood slightly taller. Watching as slyly as you were able, you saw him approach the first boy and, after a brief and clearly heated conversation, his sharp gaze met yours.
Something oddly akin to familiarity sparked through your veins then, leaving you unable to break the gaze. The blonde boy was still speaking, something which seemed to only serve to make him progressively more infuriated.
Eventually, he snapped at the other boy - stopping his stream of words instantly - and strode purposefully over to your position. Fear was likely a reasonable response, but you didn't feel even an ounce of it - instead, unmistakable intrigue rang through your mind.
You stood just before he reached you, wishing to be on an even footing at least, but you couldn't stop yourself from awkwardly shifting on your feet. It was only a matter of time before the intensity in his eyes forced you to look away.
"What's your name?" He asked as though he was absolutely certain of the answer.
When you told him your name, you were met with a dry, derisive laugh. "Really?" You couldn't tell whether his tone was one full of anger or laughter, but the look on his face indicated fury.
Grabbing a rough hold of your arms, he practically forced your eyes to his with nothing but the touch of his hands on your arms. "Your name is TigerLily." He told you firmly, voice shaking as he clearly attempted to contain his anger. "This place-" he started, staring intensely into your eyes, "Neverland, is your home."
His words were laughable, ridiculous to you, but the severity in his expression kept you from making any snide comments - you doubted sarcasm would improve the situation.
Desperately looking you over, clearly hoping to see at least a small spark of recognition, he eventually spoke once more. "Nothing?" The question was asked through gritted teeth, even as he released your arms from his deathly grip.
"I don't know what your talking about." You told him softly, completely uncertain as to why he so adamantly believed that you were from Neverland.
"Pan!" The boy from before was clearly calling for his leader, but Pan clearly didn't wish to walk away from you - seeming to think he could conjure up memories in you.
Taking a single step back, he looked you over once more before huffing and glancing into the trees. "Stay here, Tig." He gave orders so naturally, you could assume that he had been in charge for a long time.
Scrunching your nose up at the nickname, you shook your head - barely even reacting to the fact that TigerLily wasn't even your name. "Don't call me 'Tig'." It seemed that your fierce instruction pained him somewhat, even though he tried desperately not to show it.
"Peter!" The same boy was yelling for Pan, it seemed he wasn't quite sure what to do with a young dark haired boy- who seemed far more clean cut than the others.
Never once looking away from you, Pan took another step back and yelled in reply. "I heard you, Felix." Annoyance was clear in his tone, but he turned and walked away regardless.
"Peter." You whispered the name, saying it only to yourself, as though testing the weight of it on your tongue. It fell from your lips so easily that you couldn't help but consider his previous words.