She left me alone again, Papa. Why doesn't she care about me, Papa? She says she does, but I don't think I believe her.
Why does Mama hate you so much, Papa? You're always really nice to her and me. But she's so mean to you all the time and it's just not fair. Why does she make you feel bad about being nice to her and me, Papa? Isn't that a good thing?
You came home alone tonight, Papa. Mama's not coming back, you told me. Mama is dead. So why don't I feel sad? I know I should. I feel sad for you because you're sad, but that's it. Am I bad for not being very sad she's gone?
Why are people so mean to you, Papa? You are so nice to everyone but still they kick and beat you. Why? Why does everyone say you're a coward, Papa? Is it because you need that long stick to walk? I hear every rumor in town, Papa, and they're all wrong. I know you only hurt yourself so you could come back to me.
I don't care what the village thinks, Papa, you're no coward. You are my hero, and I love you more than anything. I tried to love Mother too, but she didn't seem to care much about either one of us. I know you think she was killed by those pirates, but I just don't buy it. But I can't tell you that- or how I really feel about Mother- it'll break your heart.
I don't think I like this new plan of yours, Papa. But I don't want to be drafted into that dreadful war. My best friend Morraine was drafted last night, and yes, I want her to be saved. And I'd really love for the other children to be saved as well. But this mission seems very dangerous. I have a bad feeling about that beggar, Papa. Something about him just seems off.
Papa, what's happened to you? Papa you're scaring me!
You turned a merchant into a snail today and stepped on him in front of everyone. I guess I should be grateful you didn't snap his neck in front of me, like those men who tried to take me away. Why do you enjoy hurting other people so much now, Papa? This isn't who you are! This curse has twisted you into something horrible, Papa, can't you see it?
No. Too busy with your magic and deals and dramatic gestures, I guess. You use magic as the only solution to our problems. You keep bringing me gifts from the people you deal with- like I'll actually want them! Why would you think I'd accept these 'gifts' you got from ruining innocent people's lives, Papa? Why would you think I'd want anything that reminds me of magic and the monster it's caused you to become?!
Why would you think I'd want anything but you, Papa?
Why did you let me go, Papa? Why did you choose magic over me, Papa? We had a deal Papa! I was wrong before; you are a coward. And it's not because of your old limp or your shyness. You chose magic over me- your son, your beloved Bae! You were my father Papa-no. I have no Papa.
I never had a mother, and now I am fatherless too. I am an orphan.
Is this what he wanted? I'll never leave you, he said. Over and over he told me "I'll never leave you, Bae." And I believed him, silly me. Well, screw him. I'll find my own family someday.
And I almost do. I could have been happy with the Darlings, and for a little while I was-until magic decided to ruin my life again. Will I ever be free of this damned magic destroying everything good in my life?! It's too late for me now, I tell Wendy. I'm an orphan; no one will miss me if the shadow takes me away. So I let it.
Except I don't make it to Neverland, not right then, anyway. I take a pit stop on the Jolly Roger, Captained by Killian Jones, or Captain Hook as he likes to call himself. Something about him makes me uneasy; but then, all pirates make me uneasy because of what happened with Mother.
The Captain and I get along fine for weeks and I start to believe I've gained a new family. Until I find something odd below deck one night. I don't quite remember what she looked like; I tried to put Mother's memory behind us, for we were both better off without her. But in the corner of the drawing I see the name Milah signed in tiny script.
That was her name, I am sure of it. And when I confront Jones about this he is livid.
So now I'm trapped in Neverland. Stupid pirate. Stupid Papa-you don't have a Papa anymore, damn it! Stop calling him that!
But I do. I do have a Papa, and it's thinking of him that helps me go to sleep on this dreadful island every night. "It's alright Bae", I imagine him saying. "Your Papa is here." And in my dreams my head is buried inside the comfort of his chest, and his arms are wrapped around me protectively. He is human again, obviously, and there is no war, poverty, hunger, or bullies that pick on us. Just the two of us; frozen in time and inseparable.
But then I wake up and realize none of it was real. The dream-no, the nightmare lasts however long I spent in that hellhole known as Neverland. I don't know when exactly I stopped counting the time, but it didn't matter anyway. I entered Neverland an orphan and escaped a Lost Boy. And a Lost Boy I was until I stumbled upon another one of my kind: a Lost Girl.
So there we were: the Lost Boy and the Lost Girl in the most un-glamorous love story ever. Bonnie and Clyde ain't got shit on us, we said. To hell with fairytales, anyway. They never did me any favors.
But we were just about to start our own fairytale, until I learned she was one. She, the Lost Girl, my Lost Girl, was literally a fucking fairytale! A princess, in fact- daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.
I didn't realize how desperate I was to escape. I guess that's what comes with two non-stop centuries of being tortured by magic. I was an enemy of magic, or stories, or princesses, or whatever the hell else qualifies.
I was so desperate to escape, to run as far away from that part of my life as possible, that I convinced myself I was leaving for her benefit. Yeah, right.
But that's the great lie I tell to live with myself now.
Who am I now? I'm not really an orphan anymore, and I gave up my rights as a Lost Boy the second I left Emma. I am sure as hell not Baelfire. I am Neal Cassidy, searching for new ways to distance myself from the past every day.
I hop from one distraction to the next; jobs, cities, relationships, you name it. I'm getting pretty damn good at it, too. Until today.
My past slams into me- and no, that isn't a metaphor- she literally sacs me face-first into the sidewalk. Shit. I didn't expect to see her again. I have no arguments for my cowardice except for magic and my father, and she – in typical Emma fashion- tells me straight up she's not buying it. Okay, I guess that's fair.
Seeing you again isn't though. Not here, not like this…so human and vulnerable. Damn you! I can't even stew in my anger properly with those pleading brown eyes following me. And the fact that you're so utterly hurt and broken by my rejection just pisses me off even more!
But then I start listening to what you're saying and the resentment built up for three centuries comes back full force. Are you seriously talking about fixing this with magic?! Damn it, old man, will you ever learn?! Magic ruined my life. Repeatedly. The fact that you could even suggest that blows my mind. Yeah, I am completely set in my resolve to hate you.
Until I see you dying. Damn it, Papa, why do you do this to me?! I can't stop fucking caring about you, or us, or what we used to be.
Why can't I just stop loving you, Papa? It would make my life a hellova lot easier.
But would it really? All I'd have is a son I didn't know I had and a woman who hates me for pretty much the same reason.
Then your hand reaches out; we both know you don't expect me to take it, but at this point you're too weak to drop it. And that's when I crack.
"I'm still mad", I grumble, though I'm by your side in an instant. Suddenly I'm a child again, that same scared little boy who thought if he clung to his Papa tight enough they could make it through the storm. That's what we always do. The world could be tearing apart at the seams but as long as we never let go we'd still have each other.
I'm the one to let go this time. Things have changed now, Papa. You are not that man anymore, and I am not a child. I should be focusing my attention on my own son now. I have to be there for him, have to end this viscous cycle.
That's why I had to trap you in the ink, Papa. I still love you, but I doubt I'll ever trust you.
I didn't trust you but I probably should have. Besides getting recaptured two minutes after leaving you I also realize you were telling the truth. You're really willing to die for my son.
I didn't know he was your father, Papa, I'm sorry. Everything I said to you in the past when you tried to warn me about Pan seems ten times worse in hindsight. And now he's trapped you in Pandora's box and it's my fault. If I'd only used common sense I would've known you were right.
But common sense was never really my strong suit, was it Papa. I promised myself I'd do whatever it takes to get back to my family, and dammit, that's what I'll do. Except, once again, I'd forgotten the elemental law of magic. Your personal mantra: all magic comes with a price.
The price to pay was your freedom and my life. But you'll survive, Papa, I know you will. And I know you'll give that green bitch hell to pay when you're freed from her control. And I, for once, am okay with that.
Papa, it's okay. I forgave you a long time ago, Papa, as much as I hated admitting it. You've sacrificed so much for me, Papa. Let me do this one thing for you. Please Papa, let me go.
I love you, Papa.