He felt this warm nervous feeling flow the entire length of his body, This would be it, the last piece of the puzzle before the final show down, there was no going back from it, he was going to kill it and he would do it alongside the next enemy to it. He didn’t care much for Peters nature, all he cared was that he would help, whether it’s for selfish reasons or not, he too was doing this for him, in a roundabout way, by helping a father get back to his family he was saving his own and the rest of the town. Whether that would make him a hero or not he didn’t really care anymore, he’d prefer his family alive and no child to be alone then to be a hero.
“I was instructed to do this a certain way… you of all people should know that I do follow orders quite well. I will follow every word I was instructed and it will go according to plan. If it doesn’t, I will hold you responsible- “ A low chuckle left his sly smirk as he stepped close again, his eyes were dark, yet still blazing with light somehow as he stared into Pan’s eyes.” – Not that you give a damn, but I can assure you…it won’t end well, for either of us. You will have nothing left to dominated and you will die in more pain then you first intended…” Killian couldn’t care less if this wasn’t scaring the boy, he was pissed, exhausted and the hold Hook shined through the longer he stood with him, this was Pan getting a little of what he wanted, without the pirate even realising it.
No scenario could possibly play out where Peter would assist the residents of Storybrooke without an ulterior motive, without there being something considerable in it for him. In this case, there was plenty: There was the Dark One, of course, the chance to take the beast down once and for all, and relish the gloating while he did. Then there was Henry, his Truest Believer, both aged and possessed thanks to magic these poor unfortunate souls didn’t have a hope of controlling. Top that off with Captain Hook – For he was Hook. Peter could see the memories clouding his bright blue eyes – And Baelfire, striking his own deals with his once-captor, not to mention the look on Rumpelstiltskin’s face… Yes, Pan was going to have a lot of fun with this.
He sighed melodramatically, not phased in the slightest by the pirate’s sharp response, threatening his death should he set so much as a toe out of line. It was all empty, of course; Hook couldn’t have done a damn thing if Pan chose to throw them all to the wolves. Pan grinned like a shark, too many teeth,not enough humour, and an insatiable bloodlust. “Alright, mate – I’ll play by your rules, because it suits me too. But I’ll be taking my own precautions against you betraying me. It’s nothing personal – Just good business.”
Because some men aren’t looking for anything logical, like money. They can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned, or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.
-The Dark Knight
Neal stared him down, cautiously trying to read the unspoken, the words written between the lines. What Pan said made sense, but it still didn’t change that Pan’s usual modus operandi involved twisting anything, even the truth, into his advantage. It was true that Pan had never broken a promise to him, but it was never the promise that betrayed him- it was what wasn’t promised that ended up planting the knife in his back, the proverbial devil in the details. “Yeah, and as soon as he’s free of the Dark One’s hold, he’ll have a target on his back again. So while you may not require Henry, I’ll still owe you and be unable to defend my son. So we’re still at an impasse.”
It was a disturbing notion however… that Pan held all the cards. And try as he could to dismiss it, Neal knew he was in a corner. He could refuse him, but would he throw away Henry’s life for simple pride? It’s not as if he were Henry’s last hope after the Dark One’s minion was dead- there was still Emma and Regina, and Hook had gone against Pan before, and with a lot of luck, his father. He could feel the twisting of the chains and their echoing rattle, which he’d been fighting to outrun ever since he’d landed in this world a second time; maybe even since that night he’d met Pan for the first time. He was Pan’s- and the bloody little monster knew it.
Sighing heavily, Neal could feel the chain pulling tighter, every word adding another, knowing his answer and his response before his question was ever asked. “…. what is it you want from me in return?”
Peter knew that the greatest likelihood was that Bae would not believe him – After all, he had no reason to, nor owed the boy any loyalty. Pan had been his captor for nigh-on two hundred years, and had hardly let him forget it even after the proverbial cage door had been opened. One cage remained well and truly locked – Bae wouldn’t let him escape that, either. He had not yet acknowledged the current existence of Wendy Moira Angela Darling, and he had no intention of it. Not until the time was right. All his little Lost Ones were pawns one way or another, and Pan was ten moves ahead of every opponent.
Tragedies could have been written of the sorry state of Baelfire’s life – Accompanied by a mournful reed pipe, naturally. Mother, father, grandfather – But we don’t talk about that – Girlfriend and son, all; he was living proof that the course of happiness had the potential to be mountainously far from smooth. And now he was dying. Peter knew just how that bit felt. A grin slashed deeply across his lips as the man spoke again, biting back the curiosity in his tone; Pan had known he would break.
“I want you, Bae!” He smiled, ever the law-maker of the cruellest games he so enjoyed. “Your father takes favours in return for his deals. I’m not quite so old-fashioned.” There were few people in this shitty excuse for a town that Pan would not have sacrificed readily for the greater good. Baelfire was one of them – Only because it was far more fun when he was alive and kicking, but that could always change. “You either give yourself to me willingly, or I take you for myself – Until you die, of course, and then I’ll take Henry. Where’s the harm? It’s just a little blood magic.”
He stepped closer, closing the gap between them. It was strange that, in the space of twenty years, the boy whose hair he had ruffled, who had briefly owned the dagger in its leather sheath that Peter now tucked inside his boot, was almost as tall as Felix. And the facial hair… Pan would have liked to have kept the little Mac Aoire for himself, but Bae had had a destiny to fulfil. Once that was over and done with, maybe he could return him to Neverland – Child-size, of course. “You’ll take my deal. Because every second you’re with me is the chance to turn the tables, to get the better of me. Maybe you’ll find your moment. Maybe I’ll slip. Or, if you’d rather, I can speed that death up for you right now.” He shrugged, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “Your call.”
He hated this place already. The pollution, the noise in the distance, the smell of a home cooked meal. Who would want to be here? Blue eyes danced up towards the sky and even though Felix could see the second star from the right, he knew he was far from Neverland. This is the place that took their leader? Felix could only hope there was a good reason. Pan didn’t often just leave them. He may be gone a few days at the most; but he always came back. Except this time. This was the reason Felix had come here. If something happened to Pan, there would be Hell to pay. The only thing he hadn’t counted on? Finding somewhere to start.
He tugged his hood back over his head, blue eyes narrowing as he turned on his heel. The wind reminded him of Neverland, as did the darkness. He just knew it wouldn’t last very long. He had barely taken a step forward when he noticed the boy standing on the opposite side of the road. For the longest time, Felix just started. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say in this situation. His first instict was to make sure Peter was actually standing there. To make sure he was real and not some illusion. He was taken off guard because the boy hadn’t opened his mouth. He took a step forward, eyes locked on Pan’s. “You’re silent?” That just didn’t happen. “I feel I should alert someone.” He was only teasing him, of course. Felix knew to watch his mouth around his friend. That’s when the real trouble started for him. He took long strides to get to Pan, his coming to prod him in the shoulder. When he felt flesh, a flash of relief settled on his face. This wasn’t the shadow. At least he didn’t think this was the shadow.
“I do hope you plan on explaining why you’re here.” He took in Pan’s appearance, eyebrow raising at his clothing choices. It only took Felix a moment to realize he was going to stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this. He pulled his cloak even closer around his body, a frown on his features. “Next time you demand I stay back in Neverland, I am going to thoughtfully decline.” He tossed the used magical object in Pan’s direction with a smirk. He wouldn’t be going back to Neverland until Pan went himself. As far as Felix was concerned, he belonged at Peter’s side and nothing was going to change that.
Even watching the boy, half-lit on his youngest, unscarred side by the yellow-tinted lamps, across the street, Peter could clock a list of traits that were just so Felix, it reminded him how long he must have been away. Brave new world, with its roads and cars and tinted shop windows flanking the street? Utterly unphased. Everything from his cautious glance to the heavens to check that his star – Their star – Still hung in the sky, to the way he dropped his hood to his shoulders, immediately on the prowl for his Pan. He hadn’t wasted a second, nor let the impressively collected demeanour drop, even if he shouldn’t have set foot in this realm to begin with.
Pan’s orders had been finite and resolute: A last resort only. It might have been cruel, presenting the acting-Pan with a candy bar and instructing him not to eat it under any circumstances, and he hadn’t stopped to imagine the annoyance – Amongst other things – That would have caused, but Peter had more worldly worries. He forgot them all as Felix strode towards him. He looked exhausted – Though still had time for snark – And Pan had half a mind to send him back home then and there without a word. Felix was better at keeping the island together than Pan. The trees might not have whistled to him, nor the ground thrummed with every step he took, but Neverland was fond of him the way Pan was, in its own special way.
He had already settled on the spell, but it was the look in Felix’s eyes when he registered the shadowy teenager was flesh and blood – As far as Pan got – And not the shadow sent to spite him, that stilled his hand. He screwed his fingers into a fist at his side, a raised his chin a touch, an instinctive reaction to the taller boy. “I never explain anything.” It was half-true, at least; Felix knew more than the rest of the Lost Boys combined – But that still didn’t give him cause to openly flout Pan’s parting orders, especially when they were for his own damn stubborn good.
Jaw locking at Felix’s comment, his hand snapped out to catch the bean as it was tossed to him. Portals to Neverland were easy enough to conjure, if one had enough conviction and enough magic. Portals out again… Not so much. The bean was blackened and shrivelled now, drained of the magic Peter had warmed it back to life with. He wrapped his fingers around it, and drove the back of the fist it made into Felix’s chest, not hard enough to force him backwards, but enough that he would feel it. “I told you—” Misuse of a magic bean had begun this whole debacle in the first place. He was taking no chances. “—This was a last resort.”