Groggy, Neal blinked. Dazed and confused he stared at the dirt that was under his nose. Fingers gripping the dirt, he tried to work out where he was and what was going on. The sound of pre-teen and teen boys cut through the humid, forest air. It hit him. Neverland. He was in Neverland. How the hell had he gotten here?
Last Neal remembered was Emma telling him she loved him and he’d said the same thing. Then, Neal let go of her hand and fell. He must have blacked out in the decent. Showing up in Neverland was a shock. He hadn’t expected that. Granted, Neal had had no idea where his particular portal would end up. Granted, he hadn’t been thinking about anything except for the fact Emma had been right, he’d been betrayed (and shot), and he was leaving his family. Plus, pain pretty much clouded all other thoughts.
Here in Neverland, Neal couldn’t help but note, his shoulder did not hurt as bad as back in Storybrooke. What sort of magic did this place have? There was little time to think about it when someone’s shoe connected with his side. Neal’s face contorted. “Hey. Hey. Watch where you’re walking,” he grumbled while rolling over on his back.
Blinking a bit more, he stared at the Lost Boy kicking him. “Long time no see, Felix,” he greeted. He did not dare and move. The Lost Boys seemed grumpier than usual. That was a bit unnerving. Scanning the camp, Neal found a lot of familiar faces, but none so as familiar as one. “Pan. What do you want with me?”