Something hurt. No, that was an understatement. Everything ached, a lot. Her limbs were heavy, and her tongue split painfully as she moved it. Metallic blood wetted her mouth. A small hand brushed her cheek and cool water was trickled onto her parched lips. Her bloody tongue darted out of its own accord and scooped up the precious drops. Soon, she decided to open her eyes, but they were cemented shut with something. She tried to lift a hand to clear the gunk, but it was surprisingly heavy. Something was missing, but no matter how hard she searched her mind, it remained an annoying itch in the back of her mind. She let out an involuntary groan, and the vibrations torn at her still dry throat. A young voice, unexpectedly close to her ear, made her internally jump. Outside, her body still refused to react.
"She made a noise!"
The presence next to her moved away, and she could hear the small person's light footsteps scampering away. Then she lay alone; the silence making her ears strain for some hint of sound. When the little footsteps returned, they were followed by even lighter, almost silent footsteps. The little feet stopped a distance away, but the almost-silent feet approached the surface she was laying on. There was a sound of fluttering wings, hovering above her.
"Hello?" She presumed this was the voice of the almost-silent feet. The voice was male, cocky. With tremendous, painful effort, she unglued her throat.
"H-hello" The young voice that had fetched the older boy asked,
"Is she okay?"
"I've been better…" she trailed off, clearing her throat and struggling to rise into a sitting position. "Where am I?" The itch in the back of her brain gave a particularly noticeable twinge, and she scowled, still trying to sit up.
"You're in Neverland," said the boy, gently pushing her to lay flat again. "My name is Rufio." She sunk back to the pallet/bed/thing in wonder.
"Neverland? But… Like Peter Pan? And Tinkerbelle?" A tiny, musical voice spoke, somewhere above her.
"Pan left ages ago." Rufio sounded bitter.
"Left…?" The itch in the back of her mind prickled, and she lost patience with the blackness. Forcing her heavy arms up, she rubbed the crust from her eyes and opened them. Nothing. There was no change. She rubbed her face again, in disbelief. She blinked rapidly, but the darkness didn't lighten.
"D-do you have lights on?" Her voice was high with fear.
"Yes?" Rufio had not yet realized her predicament.
Desperately, she clawed at her face, but she already knew. Still, her hopes were shattered as her broken nails bit into the skin of her face. Still, she racked them down, drawing blood. Rufio yelled in shock and horror as the warm liquid leaked from the deep furrows. His hands ripped hers away, and he was yelling for 'Pockets' to get Tinkerbelle. Distantly, she heard him yelling at her, and she thought she might have been speaking, but all her mind could process was that her eyes were open, but she saw nothing.