Title:Return
Authoress:superhackaninja5
Rating:M
Summary:see chapter one
Warnings:see chapter one
Disclaimer:still don't own. But Peter Pan is still glorious.
Okay, I'm going to address a few things before I start this chapter. One:In this fic, Peter Pan is NOT Rumplestiltskin's father. As much as that plot twist sent everything spinning on its axis and tied everything together, I just don't like it. There's going to be a different reason why the Dark One dagger and Rumple dying was the only way he could be killed to be revealed in a later chapter. Two:Yes, I do realize that everyone who went back to the Enchanted Forest got to keep their memories, but Hook isn't going to remember it that way. Since he didn't come from the same part of the EF as everyone else, he remembered it differently and he didn't get sent back to the same place as everyone else. Pan got in his head and screwed with his memories so he would be more inclined to work with him. Three:Anyone who's reading this for Captain Swan, I shall warn you now:I hate that ship with a burning passion and if I involve it, it will only be to rip to shreds.
There. I think that should clear any inconsistencies up. I'm still debating about whether or not I should bring Rumplestiltskin back. Survey anyone?
The Enchanted Forest...
From out of nowhere, clouds of green smoke began to fill the air. All around the fairy tale land, people began to panic. They all thought another curse was upon them and, after what the first one had done,they didn't want to find out what this one would.
Fortunately for them, when the mist had dissipated, there was no new carnage, no raging inferno and they all still possessed their memories. What the smoke revealed instead was a group of mixed men and women. A group of very familiar men and women.
Snow blinked her aquamarine eyes as she gradually awoke from the depths of unconsciousness. She felt cold, hard earth under face;more than that, she tasted dirt, not asphalt. She was definitely not Storybrooke anymore.
She carefully pulled herself to her feet, brushing back tendrils of her long, dark hair-wait, long?She cast a look at her shoulders and found curtains of black curls hanging over them;her hair was indeed long again. But that wasn't all.
When she looked down at her body, she wasn't wearing her ordinary clothes anymore. Instead, she was clad in the same clothes she'd worn before taking the throne;a white tunic, cloak, boots, breeches and gloves. Everything left from her time in the human world was gone-except for her memories.
Behind her, she heard the distinct sounds of someone else stirring. Inhaling deeply, she turned around to find out who it was.
Her husband, Prince Charming-David Nolan, to those back in the human world-was getting to his feet as well, dusting off the front of his pants. He, too was once again dressed in his fairy-tale garb;no more jeans and flannel shirts for him.
Around them, the rest of their friends from Storybrooke;the Dwarves, Baelfire, Ariel, Red, Eric, Granny, Belle and even Regina were all awakening from their curse-induced slumber and pulling themselves back into standing positions. Small consolation;at least she wasn't alone.
Seeing his wife, Charming came to stand at her side while the others slowly regained their bearings. Snow was casting her gaze over their surroundings;she saw trees and a familiar archway and the acid smoke still hung in the air.
Seeing all of these things again and adding to the fact that they were all back in their Enchanted Forest clothes, the Princess could only draw one conclusion.
"We're back,"she broke the tense silence with a vain attempt at concealing the tremble in her voice.
Charming placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "At least we're safe from Pan,"he told her in a conciliatory tone, squeezing her gently, "At least he's gone now and Emma and Henry are okay-"
"That's not, strictly speaking true,"a frigid Irish accent punctuated the air;an accent that also gave her a strange jolt of recognition.
Suddenly, the smoke cleared entirely and the Charmings and company found themselves surrounded by familiar brown-cloaked figures. But that wasn't the biggest shock;no, the biggest shock was seeing who was leading them.
He stepped out of the shadows and into their sight line. Snow's eyes went wide when she saw that he was wearing the exact same clothes he had been the last time she'd seen him-the same clothes he'd been wearing when he died.
"Graham?"she quipped with equal amounts of shock and disbelief at looking into the eyes of the late Sheriff of Storybrooke. The Huntsman;only he no longer looked like the same man she'd known.
There was a darkness in his smoky blue orbs now;a maliciousness that had definitely never been there before. Something had changed in him;Snow just wasn't sure what yet.
"Graham, what are you doing here?More importantly, how are you here?"the prince queried incredulously, taking over because his wife was obviously too speechless to say another word. He understood that;even in the Enchanted Forest, people coming back from the dead wasn't exactly a regular occurrence-especially not people who had died in the mortal world.
The Huntsman took a slow, almost languid step toward him, appearing deceptively nonthreatening with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Charming wasn't taking any chances, though;the minute he came too close, the prince drew his sword warningly. "Not another step until you answer my question,"David intoned firmly, stepping defensively in front of his wife.
Graham chuckled lowly, backing up with his palms raised in a gesture of mock surrender and a faint smile curving his lips.
"I'm afraid, Your Majesties, that you've been away a little too long to still have the authority to be giving orders around here," His smile turned crooked, "As for what I'm doing here, we were told to expect you back-" "Who is ''we''?Who are these people?"Mary Margaret cut him off, apparently finding her voice again in time to join in the interrogation.
Graham clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You mean you don't recognize them?"he swept his hand in the direction of his cloaked companions with another mirthless laugh, "That's a shame, because they've been so looking forward to seeing you,"
"Tell us who they are,"the prince hissed forcefully, invading Graham's personal space and pressing the point of his sword against his throat threateningly.
The former Sheriff grinned winningly, showing his vaguely canine teeth. "Meet the new Lost Boys,"he whispered. He snapped his fingers at his companions, "Take them,"
In a second, the cloaked band of boys were on the new arrivals. They were roughly seized from all sides with no chance of fighting back-not that they didn't try, of course.
There was a loud clatter as David's sword was wrested from his hand and it fell to the ground at Graham's feet as he was dragged bodily away from the taller male to join his now captive friends and family. He huffed angrily, trying to wrench himself away from his holders, but their grip was too strong and his struggles came to no avail.
The Huntsman picked his sword up off of the dirt and rested it casually against his right shoulder before addressing the Lost Boys, "You know what to do with them," He turned on his heel and began to walk away-but then, as if suddenly remembering something, he halted and called over his shoulder.
"Oh, and Peter Pan sends his regards,"he uttered the absolute last words they wanted to hear, leaving the thinly veiled assumption hanging in the air as they were all taken away from their landing site.
The Remains of Storybrooke...
The ground was, as far as the eye could see, scorched;streaked with black and littered with little piles of ashes and cinders. Looking around, you'd never guess that a town had once stood in this vast stretch of open road-but one had.
This was where the town of Storybrooke, Maine had once stood.
A lone boy was stationed amidst the charred ruins, face covered by the hood of pied, patched cloak. Darkness surrounded him like a shroud, adding the aura of the supernatural to the abyss.
Black fog swirled in a dark funnel next to him;with a bright flash, it morphed into a column of copper flames. The resultant glow illuminated the dark night and the empty streets and the desolate foliage on the outskirts of the square.
Into the darkness, the cloaked boy spoke, lilting British accent issuing out from underneath his hood, shaping words that definitely did not belong to this modern age. And then, from within his cloak, he withdrew a wooden pipe and began to play.
The fire roiled and spread and burned even brighter as each sepulchral note pierced the night air, ringing out clearly in the dead silence. The black mist lightened into a virulent acid green and began to trail out of the boy's pipe, cascading into the sky above-and the ground below.
A single thin, jade tendril found its way to where the well had once been and vanished into the center of the remaining obsidian ring on the asphalt. Cracks began to appear in the ground, accompanied by crimson tracery that bore an uncanny resemblance to the colour of blood.
As the piper continued to play, the music increased in volume and the crimson cracks widened, as if prompted. When the music reached a crescendo, the ground split in two, opening into a giant, neverending cavern.
The green smoke rose from within the aperture and began to take on corporeal form. Long, muscled arms and legs, a pale face with a single scar on one side;tall form wrapped entirely in a mottled brown cloak with a tattered hood that covered nearly half his face when he lowered his head.
When the shadows and smoke had fully coalesced into that familiar male figure, the piper halted his playing and cast a look around at the eight boys who had gathered around the roaring fire.
A satisfied smirk curled his pink lips. Air rushed as he reappeared before the boy who he had conjured from the mist;he pushed back his auburn hood and greeted the taller cordially:
"Welcome back, Felix."
The still-hooded figure drew himself up to his full height, a wooden club materializing out of the smoke into his hand, before focusing his full attention on his former leader. "Pan,"he returned the greeting with his usual lack of emotion. His eyes roamed critically over their companions, "I see the traitors are being replaced,"
Pan inclined his dark blonde head in an affirmative.
"The Dark One, the Evil Queen and the Saviour took away my family and my victory. So, now I figure, it's time for me to do the same to them,"he declared maliciously, eyes gleaming brightly with the reflected firelight.
His subordinate gave a low, sinister chuckle that seemed to agree wholly with that sentiment-but that didn't appear to be enough because Pan's next question was: "What about you, Felix? Do I have to start looking for your replacement, too?"
Felix's lips twitched in what appeared to be amusement at that question. "Of course not,"he scoffed as if affronted by the mere suggestion of his loyalty wavering, "You didn't really think a little thing like killing me would be enough to make me leave, did you?"
"No,"the shorter boy commented carelessly, a single corner of his mouth lifting at the clear offense in his companion's tone.
While the two former Lost Boys conversed, the others continued to dance wildly around the fire, reminiscent of the originals. They were all in their nightclothes, faces illuminated by the orange glow.
"So what's the plan this time?"Felix questioned curiously, resting his club on the ridge of his shoulder while he waited for an answer.
Pan's slight smirk evolved into a fully-fledged smirk that looked all the more twisted on his deceptively youthful features.
"This time, the game is on a new stage;one of multiple realms,"the demon announced softly, looking up through his thin lashes. He paused briefly before continuing, "They think that just retaining their memories means that they won. Well, I'm going to make them wish that that was all I stole from them,"
He turned away from the roaring fire and made his way to the previous location of the town line, beckoning Felix to his side before using his powers to invade everyone's minds. His voice filled all of their heads, dark and reverberating and impossible to ignore.
"This time, the Heart of the Truest Believer will be blackened;a Dark Heart that will belong to me and only me. And when I have bent him to my will and his family comes to try and rescue him again, he will be the instrument of their demise."
"You all belong to me now."
Together, he and Felix stepped over the flashing line crossing over into the real world. The curse of the town was gone;it was time to create a new one.
The Jolly Roger docked just as the sun was rising over the tops of the evergreen trees. It had been quite awhile since the ship had seen these familiar waters-and its captain wasn't exactly thrilled to be back.
He'd thought it would be possible for him to find peace after he'd made the Dark One pay for what he'd done;after he'd killed Rumplestiltskin. Realistically, though, he'd known that was never going to happen-especially once Peter Pan had come into the equation.
The demon had never been what Hook would call a friend, but before, he hadn't been an enemy, either. At least, not until the pirate had made the mistake of making him one. Now the price was either going to be Emma Swan's life-or his soul.
Strangely, though, the option of just not taking Pan's deal and letting Emma die wasn't all that unattractive. It should have been;he shouldn't even have been considering it-considering he had gotten himself into this mess to try and win her over-but yet, he didn't feel that overwhelming, all-consuming need to save her over himself. To be quite honest, he hardly felt anything at all-at least, where Emma was concerned.
In a bizarre paradox, though, he found himself almost still wanting to take Pan's deal-but not to save Emma's life. Although she was part of the reason;she'd said that, according to the stories of her world, he was meant to be the real villain, not Pan. Thinking back to that conversation, it made him wonder what it would be like to really be the villain-to do more than simply be trying to kill someone who had been put into the hero category or just bounce from benefactor to benefactor depending on who could help him do so.
He'd briefly seen the bad guys side of things when he used to work for Pan and found that he didn't really have the taste for it. But somehow, things were different now;something had changed to make him want to give it another shot.
"So I gather you've made your decision, then."
Hook didn't even pretend to be surprised when that soft, lilting British accent broke into his thoughts, coming from the other side of his ship.
He turned around and found the demon leaning casually up against one of the wooden pillars with his thumbs hooked in his belt and one of his ankles tucked behind the other. Hook never could tell if the relaxed act was a front, or if he really was just that nonchalant about everything.
Amusement quirked at the corners of Pan's mouth when he caught the pirate staring as if trying to figure it out. "You won't, you know,"he pointed out cockily, baring his teeth in a grin.
Hook blinked at the bluntness of his tone and cocked a curious eyebrow. "Won't what, exactly?"he quipped with a frown, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You won't be able wriggle your way out of this unscathed-not like you did the last time,"the blonde boy amended what he'd originally intended to say with a falsely innocent expression on his pale features. He huffed out a quiet laugh when the pirate's other eyebrow rose to join the first. "You're caught, Captain. The question is, do you want to be in my cage-or one of your own?"
The pirate's frown only deepened at that. There was a riddle or a trap in there somewhere;Pan's deals never came without some fine print he hadn't revealed before. That was just the way things worked with something like him. Pan's games always held unseen twists-that was what made playing them so dangerous.
He let out a mirthless chuckle when he realized that that was truly what it would mean to play the villain. Always staying ten steps ahead of everyone;no apologies, no regrets, and no consideration for anyone but himself. This was exactly what he wanted to experience for himself.
He allowed his frown to dissipate, smoothing his expression into one of careful neutrality and lifting one of his leather-clad shoulders in a shrug. "You've told me what will happen if I don't take your little deal, but what about if I do?What exactly is in it for me?"he questioned mildly, still giving no indication as to whether he was accepting or declining the proposal.
Pan's ever-changing eyes practically glowed with mischief. "Good point,"he agreed, pushing himself off of the pillar and taking a slow step forward, unfolding his arms as he did so.
In three strides, he'd closed the distance between them, somehow managing to stare the pirate down, even being the shorter of the two. "How about the power to cross realms without a portal?"Peter offered smilingly, but with a hint of danger. "Or a little magic to increase the ease of your tasks?"
When Hook still didn't give an answer, Pan's voice lowered into an almost hiss, "Or how about your life?"He snickered darkly, "It's more than someone like you deserves,"
This time, it was Hook who did the advancing, leaning forward so he could loom over the 14-in looks only-year old. "Not exactly the way to win me over, mate,"he intoned quietly, lowering his lip[s next to the boy's ear and aiming the tip of his hook at his neck. He gave another quiet, humourless chuckle. "But I'll take that magic as long as you're offering."
Pan's lips curved into a victorious smirk. "An agreement, then?"he quipped cheekily, looking up through his lashes as he pulled Hook's flask from his belt and holding it up invitingly, in a wordless question.
Hook stepped back, out of Pan's reach, taking the flask from him and taking a short swig after removing the cap;the equivalent of a handshake for them. He saw Pan's eyes darken at his acceptance and felt an odd sense of accomplishment-one that he couldn't explain.
Lowering the flask and tucking it back in its place, the one-handed pirate observed Pan's clearly satisfied look, at odds with the gleaming, zealous glow in his eyes. "So,"he said, breaking the silence, "You mentioned making some new friends. I don't suppose you'd tell me who they are?"
The blonde boy's smirk returned, and made him think of a child pulling the wings off of a butterfly. "I can show you much better than I can tell you;you'd never believe the simple words,"he suggested enigmatically, flicking his longest fingers in a beckoning gesture.
Hook joined him silently, his curiosity getting the better of him. Pan grasped his shoulder and did what he'd never thought would be possible;they crossed realms without any magic beans or anything of that sort.
They landed in what Hook assumed was the remains of Neverland. In Pan's absence, the island had fallen into complete ruin. It was strange;he'd only ever seen the place in its full glory-seeing it like this, it just didn't seem right.
As if reading his mind, his companion-the island's consummate ruler-waved a hand, coiled with magic, in front of him with a rather grandiose flourish. Hook saw a wave of thick, incorporeal liquid sweep over the land and before his eyes, the cursed island began to restore itself.
Time itself appeared to run in reverse;fallen trees were re-erected, crushed stones were re-formed, ashes returned to their original states and charred grass and dirt grew back over the grimy Earth. Within mere seconds, the entire island was returned to its former haunting splendour.
Pan chuckled at catching sight of the wide-eyed astonishment on the pirate's stubbled face. He clicked his fingers, conjuring a faint hint of effervescent sparks. "And you thought you'd seen the full extent of my powers,"he chided mockingly before sauntering off into the jungle, leaving Hook to follow at his heels.
They wove quickly through the familiar maze of brush and foliage, Pan obviously making allowances so Hook could keep up since he was the only one who knew where they were going. Hook laughed inwardly at the series of ironies his life had become;the last time he was here, all he'd wanted was to escape from the island and Pan-and here he was, wandering back into its heart with only Pan as his guide and protection.
With the stars as their only source of light, thanks to the island's perpetual twilight, the boy led them to the previous site of his hideout, where there was a circle of lit torches waiting for them-and that wasn't the only thing, either.
Hook found himself surrounded by easily recognizable tattered brown cloaks. But the faces were definitely unfamiliar-and two very surprising ones.
Easily identifiable-and unsurprising-was Pan's right-hand man, Felix;the other familiar face, though, was the one he was having the most difficulty believing.
As Felix took his place at Peter Pan's side, their leader hastened to introduce everyone. "Meet my new Lost Boys;the late Sheriff Graham of Storybrooke,"he gestured to the copper-haired man clad in a leather jacket, slacks and a grey button-down before doing the same to the last figure-who also happened to be the only female. "And you two already know each other, I believe."
Hook inclined his head in an affirmative. "Maleficent,"he greeted the curly-haired sorceress cordially, "Free from whatever it was the Queen did to you, I see,"
"She has me to thank for that,"Pan put in before the woman could even open her mouth, tossing her a gloating look over his shoulder before switching topics. "Now that we're all acquainted, let's get a move on, shall we?"
Without waiting for a response, the demon strolled into the center of the motley crew of villains and addressed them all. "I came back from the land of the dead to take back what was stolen from me,"he announced in a quiet, yet carrying tone, eyes filling with the menace and malignancy that Hook knew so well. "My victory, my life, my family;they stole everything. But now, I have the power to take it all back. And, thanks to me, so do all of you. You can take back what is rightfully yours and make the thieves who took it from you pay."
The Lost Boys cheered loudly, whooping and punching their fists in the air while Maleficent and the Huntsman demurely applauded. Amidst all of this, Hook found himself wondering how exactly Pan planned on making good on that promise.
And more importantly, how had he returned from the dead in the first place?
Ha there I finished this chapter. Now I can debate properly on several of my issues. Hope you enjoyed and review if anyone feels like it, I guess.
Au revoir.