THIS IS PROBABLY NOT HOW IT WILL GO ON THE SHOW OR IN THE FLASHBACKS, BUT I TRIED! AND, THESE TWO WILL PROBABLY BE REALLY OOC, BUT I THINK I DID A PRETTY GOOD JOB ON PAN, HE'S BAD-ASS AND ONE OF MY FAV CHARACTER'S ON THE SHOW NOW, SO I TRIED. (RUMPLESTILTSKIN'S ANOTHER ONE OF MY FAVS, ALONG WITH REGINA AND HOOK, JUST TO CLEAR THINGS UP) ANYWAY, HOPE YOU ENJOY!
Summary: Rumplestiltskin's early years when he first met Pan, and how their relationship grew then turned to hate.
Meeting the Lost-by PS
Rumplestiltskin bit his lip as he reached up with small, grimy hands for the dirty turnip. The merchant's back was turned and now was the perfect time to snatch it from the fat man.
Balancing on his tiptoes Rumple reached just a bit further, arms straining, and-got it!
Closing his fist around the raw vegetable Rumple turned and ran, just missing the merchant turning around and exclaiming at him angrily.
Not looking back he ran, trying to reach his current hideout before anyone caught up with him…
The old barn was musty and rotting, but Rumple snuggled down into the fresh hay he had gathered earlier, smiling to himself as he took a bite of the turnip, trying to focus on the taste of the food instead of the grit of the soil clinging to it.
"My," a voice said from overhead, "that won't last you long."
Startled, Rumple struggled to his feet, whirling around to stare up at the loft part of the barn, surprised to see a boy, older than him, laying there, chin resting on one hand.
Glancing around for more trespassers Rumple questioned him, "who are you? And what are you doing here?"
The boy moved to sit up, his light eyes ever watching as he did so, "I'm Peter, Peter Pan. And I just happened to be wandering around when I saw you."
He stared straight into Rumple's face then, never blinking, pupils wide and dark.
Rumple gulped and looked away, staring hard at the floor, "I-I'm Rumplestitlskin. But, most people call me Rumple."
The older boy smiled then, revealing even teeth, "Rumplestiltskin. Has a nice ring to it, very powerful. Tell me then Rumple, what are you doing out here by yourself?"
The boy was moving now, muscles moving and tensing like a wild cat's as he paraded over the old wooden planks of the loft and over to the ladder precariously placed by it, white spider hands clenching the splintered wood before he slid all the way down, perfectly at grace.
Rumple stared at him, in awe, chapped lips parted.
Peter turned then, eyebrows raised, a smirk coming to his face, "well? You didn't answer the question."
Rumple blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head, "I…my father, he…left. So…I'm all alone." It was painful to admit, but it was the truth. Rumple had been alone for a very long time.
The older boy narrowed his eyes momentarily, but brightened back up when he noticed the younger looking at him, "I'm sorry to hear that," he said sincerely, putting on a brave grin, "I know what it's like to be alone."
Rumple blinked in surprise, "you do?"
Peter smiled wider at him, resembling a crocodile, "of course. I myself am very much alone. I look for companions, but I can't seem to find any." He looked meaningfully at the shorter boy, but the younger didn't seem to catch on.
Instead, the younger boy shifted awkwardly in place, "if…if you don't have a place to go you could…stay here?" His chocolate eyes glanced back up at the other boy's, and Peter held his breath.
"Alright," he breathed out, fingers tightening at his sides, "I'll stay."
Rumplestiltskin's smile was enormous…
Peter had the idea of performing on the street for money instead of stealing. He wanted Rumple to learn a trade, even if it was a flimsy one; he wanted it to be something he could fall back on if needed.
Peter sang and danced while Rumple beat on a little hollow pot they had found, trying to make music. Young children had gathered around them, and even a few adults smiled as they carried on.
In the end, they had gathered a few coins, and many admirers.
As their child admirers surrounded them Rumple noticed a small pipe on the side of Peter's belt.
Intrigued, Rumple asked the other boy, "Peter, why didn't you play the pipe earlier? I bet the crowd would have loved it."
Peter looked back at him over his shoulder, eyes flicking over his face, "I'm afraid not everyone would have been able to hear it."
Rumple frowned, furrowing his eyebrows, "what do you mean?"
Peter sighed, "Let me show you." Slowly, he pulled the instrument out and held it to his mouth, staring at Rumplestiltskin as he did so.
When the music came it was low and melodious, a haunting, yet beautiful sound that made a shiver run down his spine. Then, it was over.
One of the children by them started up loudly, "what was that? That thing is broken! I didn't hear anything!"
Confused, Rumple looked over at the child then back at Peter, who was still watching him.
The younger opened his mouth to speak but was pulled away by Peter, his forearm gripped tightly as he marched them away from the other children.
When they had walked onto a busier street Rumple pulled away from the other boy, his arm hurting, "why couldn't the other children hear it?"
Peter turned slowly to look back at him, his eyes now dark and lonely, "that pipe is magical," he said lowly, "only people who feel lost and alone can hear it. Only you and I could hear the music in that crowd of children. Only we two felt alone."
Rumple stared up at the taller boy, lips wetly parting as realization came to him, "my father's never coming back, is he?" The answer was rhetorical, and Peter simply looked at him until Rumplestiltskin collapsed to the ground.
Peter hurried to his side, quickly sinking down next to him, arms going out to lift him back up.
"Why did he leave," Rumple whispered quietly as he was pulled against Peter's chest.
The other boy didn't answer, but he did hold him closer…
Pan was annoyed when the sun left the sky; he had to go back to Neverland.
He carefully tucked Rumplestiltskin back into his hay bed, back at the old barn, looking at the tear tracks staining the sleeping boy's smudged face.
He had been watching the boy for quite some time now, the scent of his loneliness reaching Pan when he first reached this land. It was an intoxicating smell, one that he only ever smelled when he rolled around in his own lonely bedding.
Now though, it was everywhere in this barn.
Pan breathed it in, eyes closing in rapture before he opened them back up, frowning as he concentrated his magic, hands clenching, magic rising to the surface.
Then, he was back.
Back in this cursed Neverland.
He could only leave during the day, a feat that he had managed due to a deal he had made a few years past. Now, the deal held new meaning.
He would be able to see Rumple now.
They were both lost boys, and such beings had to stick together.
But, there were differences between them, Pan thought to himself as he wandered over the sandy beaches of Neverland, he was a Puppetmaster, and Rumplestiltskin was still just a sad little boy with no cause to live. Pan had to change that.
Flicking his fingers with leisure Pan turned on his heel, shoes digging in the sand, to appear in the forest, leaves brushing against his arms as he tilted his head up to look at the moon.
What madness caused this loneliness, the boy thought to himself, what loneliness caused this deception?
It didn't really matter, he thought again as he leaned against the base of a tree, hair tousling as it tangled in the rough bark; it didn't matter now that he had something that would keep him from being lonely.
Parting his lips they began to tug upward into a smirk, "this should be fun," he whispered to the moon, his spirits slowly lifting…
Peter came back daily, but, he disappeared at night, leaving Rumple cold and wondering where he went.
The older boy would smile and laugh with him in the sun, giving new ideas of how to earn money, and how to get food, but by night he would leave once again, abandoning the smaller boy. It was disheartening, and Rumple felt lonely whenever the older boy left.
But, each time Peter would come back, grin on his face, hair tousled as if he had been running all day just to get back to the younger boy.
"Do you have a family," Rumple asked one day while they sat on a hill, green grass shielding them from onlookers; the idea just popping into his head.
Peter flopped his head towards him, the arms pillowing his head twisting under him, "why do you ask?"
Rumple felt a bit embarrassed, but he went on, eyes downcast, "you just…you always leave, then come back. I didn't know if you had a home somewhere else and just came back to visit…" he trailed off, catching the serious look on Peter's face.
"I don't have a home," the older boy said, eyes hooded and dark, "not anymore."
Rumple gulped, "I-I see." He turned his head the other way then, feeling a bit distressed.
Peter sat up, staring down at him, making Rumple look up, "don't feel bad," he said, accent thickening, "I've been alone for quite some time, I don't feel very bad about it anymore." The look he gave Rumple was meaningful, and the younger boy fidgeted under the gaze.
"I-I'm sorry," Rumple stuttered out, "I just…I don't want you to be alone."
Peter's eyes widened for a moment before his gaze dropped to the ground, an uncustomary action, but a smirk rose to his lips nonetheless. "Rumplestiltskin…" He looked back up then, pupils wide and dark, lips parted as he started leaning down towards the younger male, Rumple's own eyes widening as he did so.
"Peter, I…" Before Rumple could say anything though Peter jerked back up, eyes looking towards the setting sun.
The older male gave a grim grin then, glancing back down at the flushed boy at his side, "sorry," he said then, fingers clenching in the grass, "but I've got to go."
Rumple watched as he rose to his feet, fluid motions like that of a cat as he stared up at the sky momentarily, before grinning down at the other boy, "I'll be seeing you Rumplestiltskin," he said, before he set off into the distance, long legs carrying him far away, disappearing completely before Rumple could fully sit up.
"What…" Rumple breathed, looking around, trying to find the boy, but it was too late, he was already gone, just like the sun…
Pan growled to himself as he appeared back in Neverland, "Damn!" He cursed, kicking up sand as he whirled around to glare at the rising sun that came over the salty oceans of Neverland.
When the sun set in Rumplestiltskin's Land, it rose here in Neverland. It was a tedious affair.
Angry at himself and at his cursed life Pan clenched his hands into fists and strode down the beach a bit of ways before snapping his fingers and transporting to the heart of Neverland.
The waterfalls of Neverland. The lifeblood of the isle.
Sitting down next to the crystal waters Pan dipped a hand in, watching as the water twirled around his fingers, his flesh distorted by the aquatic pool.
He imagined giving Rumplestiltskin some of this water, so he would never be able to leave Neverland, so that he could never leave Pan.
Tilting his head to the side Pan lifted his hand from the water and held it over his head, droplets raining down to land on his eyelids and lips, the water cool and soothing. How deceptive.
He wanted Rumple here with him, he thought as he licked his lips, catching the stray droplet of Neverland water, but, he didn't know how to carry people back with him to this cursed island when he returned himself.
He had to find out, Pan thought as he stood up, shaking the remaining water from his hands, frustrated with the wetness now, he would find a way to bring Rumple to him.
"I have to," he whispered aloud to himself, pale eyes looking off into the distance of the rising sun…
Peter and Rumple were laying down side by side in the barn, looking up at the beams above them as Rumple talked about his father, voice a bit choked and strained as he did so.
"He was kind enough to me," the younger boy said, blinking back tears, "we were poor, but he always managed to buy eggs to make me egg basket. We moved around a lot…which, I suppose, is because he was in trouble most of the time…I didn't know."
Peter listened with rapt attention, pale eyes hardly ever blinking, face stoic as he watched the other boy's face as he told his tales. "Do you have anything to remember him by," he asked finally, once Rumple had fallen silent, his throat thick with tears.
The younger boy sniffed before answering, throat tight, "he, he gave me a husk doll when I was young," the boy said, hand going to the small satchel he kept at his side, "it's the only thing I have left of him."
Peter blinked slowly, "what about your mother?"
Rumple bit his lip, "I never knew her. She died from a fever after she gave birth to me. Father never talked about her much, but, he never blamed me for her death. It was kind of him."
Peter raised a brow but said nothing, only watching as Rumple blinked rapidly, salty tears stinging his eyes.
"When he left," Rumple said after a few silent minutes, "he told me to stay in the abandoned house we were staying in, that he was going to the market, and would be back by nightfall…he never came back. I assume he took a boat from the docks and left. Going far away and to a different place; a fresh start."
Peter frowned, "there's no such things as 'fresh starts.' It's just a way of running away and trying to forget all of the things that will eventually haunt you regardless of what you do."
Rumple turned his head towards him, "maybe. But, it's better than what we have now."
Peter stared at him, straight into his eyes, "would you run, if you had a chance? Would you go to a different place entirely, where nothing bad ever happens? Would you, if you could?"
Rumple's brow furrowed, "what are you saying Peter? Bad things happen everywhere we go, it's just life. No one can change that."
The older boy sat up then, one arm holding him up, "but what if I could change that? What if I could give you whatever you wanted?"
Rumple laughed then, sitting up alongside him, "don't be ridiculous, you can't change fate."
"No," Peter muttered softly, "but I can influence it."
Rumplestiltskin watched with him exasperation and confusion as the taller stood up, hands brushing off his dirty pants, "it's late," Peter said, "I should get going."
"You'll be back?" Rumple questioned, feeling that if he let go now that something would change and Peter would never return.
The older boy turned back and grinned over his shoulder, "of course. I always am." He tossed another smile over his shoulder then swaggered over to the door, not turning, "good night Rumplestiltskin."
Rumple straightened up, surprised at the serious tone of the other's voice, "g-goodnight Peter!"
The other boy's hand clenched on the splintered doorframe before he opened it, taking his leave as the first approaching's of starlight appeared…
He had found a way.
Pan had found a way to bring back Rumplestiltskin with him when he came back to Neverland.
It would be painful, granted, but it would be worth it. Entirely.
Sitting at the edge of Dead Man's Cliff, as he liked to call it, Pan stared down at the knife in his hand, the knife that he had carefully crafted for this purpose alone.
Inhaling deeply he stood up, the sun making his shadow long and tall on the ground, presenting itself ripe for the taking.
To be able to take Rumple from his land Pan would have to have his own shadow do his bidding. But, said shadow would need to be able to move. So, he had made a knife that would be able to cut through his shadow, an extension of himself, and make it do what he wanted. After all, common upbringings had common goals.
Clenching his teeth Pan reached down, knife firmly in hand, and set the tip on the ground near the shadow of his foot, the grainy texture of sand making him grimace before he gave a quick inward slice towards himself, the darkness of his shadow disconnecting from him like shredded ribbons. It hurt.
Hissing in pain Pan willed his strength, but, time didn't seem to be on his side for once, the sun was setting, and with it, the chance to cut into himself. Now, instead, was the time to visit the only person who could understand him…
Rumple gasped as he spotted Peter, the boy sitting midway in the road, legs outspread, his ankle bleeding profusely.
"Peter!" He gasped out as he ran to the other's side, moving to help him up and out of the road, "what happened to you?!"
Peter grimaced in pain and a strange, low sound echoed in his throat, "nothing much. Just a bit of a set-back in a plan of mine. Nothing to worry about, I'll be fine."
Rumple frowned as they hobbled into the barn, the younger boy gently lowering the elder into a pile of fresh hay, "this is not fine. You're losing a lot of blood. You need a doctor."
Peter grabbed his arm then, grip tight and unrelenting, "no! All things come with a price, this is my price for now. When I go back it will go away."
Rumple kneeled down in the hay with him, confused, "go back? Go back where, what are you talking about? You're not making any sense at all Peter."
The older boy grit his teeth, "it doesn't matter. It will all make sense in time. You just worry about you for now, I'll be fine in a while. I just need to rest." His eyelids fluttered, but his eyes remained ever sharp and alert.
Rumple chewed at his lip, at a loss of what to do; but, before he could make up his mind his wrist was held in a tight embrace again, Peter's long fingers holding onto him like shackles.
"Just stay with me," the chestnut haired boy murmured, "just until I need to leave again."
"You should just stay here," Rumple muttered angrily, but he settled down next to the older male and looked back at his leg, noticing that the bleeding had stopped, "how…" he started, but stopped when he saw that the elder was asleep.
Sometimes, he thought to himself as he watched the flutter of long eyelashes against pale cheeks, he wondered if Peter was even part of this world…
When Rumple woke up he realized three things: first, he had fallen asleep sometime during the day, second, that Peter was gone, and third, that in Peter's place there was a handmade basket that was covered with a cloth.
Curious, Rumple sat up and removed the cloth, jaw dropping as he stared down at all of the food he found there, in the center of it all a stack of egg baskets, still somehow steaming and warm.
Tucking one into his mouth Rumple noticed the edge of a scrap of parchment at the bottom of the basket; he tugged it out and immediately stopped chewing. There, on the paper, was an image of himself, hand-drawn and fresh, like it had been finished only hours before.
In the bottom corner of the drawing was a miniature pan flute, the obvious signature of who had drawn the masterpiece.
Flushed Rumple set it to the side, glancing at it every now and then when he couldn't stop himself from doing so…
Rumple stared from behind the corner of the old barn.
This couldn't be true.
Peter had suddenly appeared out of thin air, literally, while Rumple had been gathering some fresh hay; the shock of seeing his friend so suddenly had made him jump back and peek out from behind his hiding spot.
Peter was bleeding again, and Rumple very nearly shouted to him, but before he could open his mouth the older boy bent down, running his hand along the wound, and all of the blood was suddenly gone.
It must have been magic, Rumple thought as he tried not to hyperventilate, stepping back and sliding down against the wall. Magic would explain so many things: how Peter managed to disappear so quickly, the flute, and maybe even why he went away at night.
Perhaps he was being kept a prisoner by an evil sorcerer, Rumple thought as he glanced around the corner again, trying to spot the other boy.
"What are you doing?" The voice made Rumple leap to his feet and shout, stunned.
Whirling around, hand to his chest, Rumple gasped as he saw Peter standing there, hands on his hips and his brows raised in answer to Rumple's ludicrous actions.
The younger boy scratched at the back of his head awkwardly, trying to come up with something to say, "I, uh, I was just out collecting hay and I thought I saw something...interesting…" He trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
Peter stared at him for a moment, light eyes piercing, before he shrugged, "all right." His tone seemed believing, but Rumple felt a shiver go down his spine when Peter glanced over him again.
Holding his breath Rumple brushed off his already dirty clothing, "Peter," he started, making sure not to look the other in the eye, "if something was wrong, would you tell me?" He chanced looking up then, dark eyes connecting with the lighter ones.
The older boy stared down at him for a moment before putting on a care-free grin, "of course," he said, voice filled with mirth, "you would be the first to know." With that, he casually started walking away, hand buried in his pockets, steps quick and precise.
But, somehow, Rumple didn't exactly believe him…
Lying, lying, always lying.
Pan was a bit tired of it all actually. Some small part of his conscious shuttered at the thought of lying about his very being, but, he was stronger than being scared of a simple shiver.
Pan sighed quietly as he leaned back against a stray rock, put-out from all of these strange thoughts. It was an exhausting business.
Easing his head to look towards his left Pan eyed the shadow hovering near him, the dark creature's eyes glowing eerily as Pan watched it. An extension of himself, a perfect being to do his bidding.
"If only you weren't my only companion," Pan muttered to his new minion, wishing that he wasn't so alone. He knew that when the sun rose here in Neverland the shadow would have to retreat to Dark Hollow, it was the only safe place for it after all, the only place it could truly thrive while it was light out.
Flicking his gaze to look down at Skull Island Pan blinked slowly, feeling drained. The magic hummed within his veins, but he felt sluggish, slow. It was too much.
Neverland was becoming too much.
Cracking his neck Pan wriggled his fingers, anxious in a sense for reasons unknown to him. It was the magic, he reasoned to himself, it was making him twitchy and he couldn't stand it.
Pan was a hunter, he was used to sitting still for long amounts of time, used to narrowing eyes at prospective prey, used to waiting.
But in his old age he was becoming impatient, and everything felt tedious and dull.
He needed something new, he needed inspiration, he needed his beloved Rumple.
"Patience," he whispered out loud to himself, reaching his fingers out into the distance from where his arm was propped up on his leg, "patience."
The shadow merely stared back at him…
Rumple lay in his pile of hay, staring up at the rotting ceiling of the barn, his thoughts a whirling mess inside of his head.
Where was Peter now? Was he alright? Was he still hurt? And how did he have magic?
Sighing quietly Rumple rolled over onto his side, blinking as he stared out of the window, a cool draft blowing inside and swirling around him.
The stars were endlessly bright, but…what was that? A dark presence seemed to hover in the clouds, coming closer and blocking out the brightness of the stars.
Sitting up quickly Rumple gasped, there, detached from anybody, was a shadow. Features not even present save for a pair of glowing eyes that stared down at him.
The shadow held out a hand, beckoning him almost, those fiery eyes beseeching in the darkest of ways.
Rumple stared back at it for a minute before opening his mouth and letting out a blood-curdling scream, the sound echoing around him as he stumbled from the hay and ran for the door.
He didn't make it far before the back of his shirt was caught in a strangely solid grasp; and then, he was going, up, up and away into the air, the sky coming up to meet him as he continued screaming.
The shadow went on though, oblivious or simply ignoring him.
Rumple stood it for about five minutes before his heart nearly gave out and darkness consumed him…
When Rumple woke up he was aware that it was very dark, and that he was being patted on the cheek by a warm hand. The sound, of an accented voice calling to him.
"Rumple, wake up."
Gasping, the young boy sat up quickly, blood rushing to his head as he looked around. Peter sat before him, crouching down, eyes dark in the dim lighting; or maybe it wasn't just the lighting.
"W-Where are we Peter?"
The taller male got up from his stance slowly, "you're in my realm now, you're in Neverland, as I like to call it."
Rumple's brow furrowed, "Neverland? Where's that?"
Peter grinned, a nasty one at that, "second star and straight on till morning. A place where no one else has ever been before."
The younger stared up at him, "are you making this up?" Rumple didn't like being made a fool of, and this place seemed ordinary enough.
Peter threw back his head and laughed, a nearly malicious sound, "Oh Rumple, I wish this was all make-believe. Neverland is quite real, it's a part of me."
Rumple frowned, "a place can't be a part of you. That's impossible."
"Not impossible," Peter said as he leaned back against a tree, arms crossed, "just highly irregular. In fact, it's never happened before now."
Rumple stumbled to his feet and glared at the older boy, feeling that he was being played, "I-I don't believe you!"
Peter had the nerve to laugh. "You don't believe me? You don't believe what's right in front of your eyes? Why do you think I have to leave every night? Neverland calls to me, I'm bound to it, so I have to come back. When the sun sets in your land, it rises here."
Rumple gaped, "but…if you're bound to Neverland, how can you come to my world at day?"
Peter grimaced, looking away, "I was part of your land once," he said solemnly, "but that's changed."
Rumple stared at him in silence for a moment, mind roiling in turmoil before he licked his lips and gulped, "when can I go back?"
Peter turned back to him, "back? You're not going back, ever. You'll be staying here, with me."
Rumple frowned, "what? No! I have to go back, that's my home!"
"This can be your home," Peter said slowly, "I've grown used to it, and so can you. Neverland can be your home, the home of lost people. We can belong here."
Rumple shook his head feverishly, "no, I don't want to stay here. I don't want to belong here! You lied to me, and now you've kidnapped me!"
Peter growled at him, moving so that his hands were clenched at his sides, and his eyes were flashing, "I saved you from that damned place!"
"By moving to another damned land?!" Rumple glared right back at him, eyes flickering before he slumped back a bit. "Peter," he whispered, "you're my friend, and I'm grateful to you for helping to ease my loneliness. You're the family I've been missing."
Peter blinked, stiffening before he looked away, "I feel the same Rumple. Which is why I want you to stay here."
Rumple whimpered, "I can't Peter. Please, just take me back."
Peter's face went dark then, "if you leave now, you'll never see me again. You'll never be my friend again."
Rumple closed his eyes, thinking of everything that had happened to him. "I know," he said finally, voice firmer than he felt, "but I refuse to give up on the good that can come from my world. So, I'm sorry."
Silence.
Then, a darkness swept over Rumple, making him look up. The shadow hovered above him, eyes glowing softly.
Peter turned away, "so be it." He looked over his shoulder, "but we will meet again Rumplestiltskin, don't doubt that. And when we do, it won't be as friends."
Before Rumple could reply we was swept away by the shadow, going up into the air, watching as Peter became smaller and smaller in the distance.
Rumplestiltskin felt more alone than ever now as he flew away, going into the distance, watching as Peter Pan started to become Neverland…
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS! YOU CAN FIND THE ART I DREW FOR THIS HERE:
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SO, THANKS FOR READING, AND PLEASE REVIEW!