Third Person P.O.V

"There are other ways, Pan!" Rumplestiltskin insisted, slowly backing away from Peter. "Don't make the same mistake I did." He took a deep breath, staring with the utmost regret. "Peter . . . please."

Peter's resolve shook slightly. Even as kids he'd hardly ever called him by his first name. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, his fingers tightened around the dagger's hilt.

"That's the difference between you and I, Rumple," Peter said with a chuckle. "You had drowned in your power, making you lose sight of why you became the Dark One in the first place. I have had dark magic for a very, very long time. It doesn't corrupt me, I corrupt it. "

"Look," he said. "If we work together we can kill Zelena."

Peter snickered, looking amused. "What's the fun in just killing her? If she thought you not loving her was painful, wait until you're dead."

"Think about Amy," Rumplestiltskin said softly.

His eyes narrowed threateningly. "I am thinking about Amy," he said darkly. "And this is how I'm going to keep her from ever getting hurt again."

Rumple stared at him, his desperation to live slowly being replaced by something that resembled pity. "You know this will hurt Amy as badly as it did my son. Magic comes with a price, Pan."

"But unlike you I'll never abandon her!" Peter hissed.

"What if she leaves!?" he shot back.

Peter kept shaking his head. "She won't! She'd never leave! Now stop distracting me!" He pointed the dagger at him. "You know you deserve this, Rumple! You've outrun your fate long enough."

"Then do it," Rumplestiltskin said quietly, surprising Peter. "If you believe this is the only way for you to be happy and to keep Amy safe, then kill me."

He took a step forward, looking at Peter expectantly.

Since the moment Peter let Amy go, nearly two days ago, he'd been sitting at the top branch of their tree home. He'd climbed down briefly to eat and so forth, but most of the time he just sat at the top branch, staring at the sky with a piece of wood and his dagger in his hands.

He'd begun to whittle himself a new pipe, knowing how much Amy loved the music when she was younger. It'd take less than a second to make a new one with magic but this gave him something to focus on other than contemplating his options on how to get her to come back.

The first and easiest option would be to force her to come back and keep her there with him like he'd done on Neverland.

But things had changed since then. He couldn't bring himself to do that to her again. Especially because of that phobia she had about being locked up or trapped. It'd absolutely crush her.

The second option would be to manipulate her into coming back. But after everything, he had no doubts about her catching on. Leaving temporarily was bad enough. He couldn't imagine what he would do if he hurt her so badly she left for good.

The third and final option, the most painful one, was to just be patient and wait for her to forgive him enough to come back.

But sitting there, waiting without knowing, was agonizing. What if the others had convinced her not to return? Or what if she thought she'd be better off without him? It had been two days and he'd heard no word from her. Peter needed to see what was happening, at least check up on her quickly. But what if her magic had become in tuned with his enough that she'd realize he was there?

Unless . . .

Peter stuck the half-finished pipe in his pocket and stuck the dagger in his boot before dropping from the tree and going inside the tree house. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. He rummaged through his drawer in the bedroom dresser before finding the small silver mirror buried at the bottom underneath his clothes.

Hardly able to contain himself, he practically snapped Amy's name at the mirror. A flash of light momentarily blinded him before clearing, revealing the young girl. A sigh of relief left him and his finger absentmindedly touched the glass where her face was, as if he could stroke it from there.

"Can't we take a break?" Amy was pleading, looking exhausted. "We've been going at this all day today and yesterday." She was in the middle of the large ballroom in Regina's castle.

"Not yet," an annoying voice replied. Regina herself stepped into the mirror's view, looking as elegant and dark as ever. "Not until you can handle your magic under all of your emotions. Once we're done, controlling it will be second nature to you no matter what happens."

Amy sighed warily but nodded. "Okay, what's next?"

Regina pursed her lips thoughtfully. "You now know how to control your magic when you're happy and when you're sad, right?"

Amy stifled a yawn with her hand. "And when I'm angry. Cursed Peter taught me."

"Big surprise," Regina muttered under her breath, making Normal Peter roll his eyes. Regina brightened up, crossing her arms. "You're biggest problem is fear then. So let's take care of that."

Amy paled, furrowing her eyebrows. "How?"

Regina raised an eyebrow. Amy's question was answered when four stone walls magically, and very loudly, erupted from nowhere, encasing Amy completely with about ten feet of space for her inside. One last stone wall went on the top as a ceiling, leaving her in total darkness. Very slowly, the sound of stone grinding harshly against the floor began getting louder and louder as two of the walls glided towards each other.

"What are you doing!?" she shrieked. She blindly ran to one wall and began pushing against it, as if it would stop with her force. "It's going to crush me!" she sobbed. "Stop it! It's too dark!" Sparks of fire began flickering from her hands and she hissed as it burned her fingers.

Never had Peter wanted to kill Regina so much before. Though it was dark, Peter could see the panic on Amy's face and the tears streaming down her face as her magic began shooting out uncontrollably, blowing chunks off the stone walls but never stopping it.

Her fingers scrambled at the walls, the rough stone obviously irritating her burned hands further and chipping her nails. She didn't stop trying to climb until the cut she'd accidentally given herself from Peter's dagger re-opened. But even if she'd found a way to climb, there was no way to escape at the top either. She was completely trapped.

Coming to this conclusion herself, Amy began to scream. She dropped to her knees and gripped her hair. "PETER!"

Peter didn't realize his hand had raised to transport himself there until Regina's muffled voice came from outside the trap, making him pause.

"Amy, you can stop this by yourself!" she insisted firmly, though Peter detected a hint of guilt. "You have the power to get yourself out of there! Don't let your fear win. That is the only reason you lose control. Fight back."

Amy swallowed, her breathing coming out rapidly. "Okay," she whimpered so quietly that Peter was sure he was the only one who heard. Peter slowly lowered his hand. As much as he absolutely loathed to admit it, the Evil Queen was right. She needed to do this on her own.

Though he was certain he'd do a better job at teaching, even if her methods were similar to his own.

"Come on," Peter muttered as the walls in the scene before him came closer together. "You can do this."

Amy shut her eyes tightly and pushed herself back to her feet. Her breathing began to slow slightly. He could hear her teeth grinding together, but the fire stopped coming from her hands.

Peter's heart thudded painfully in his chest. Regina wouldn't actually let her get hurt if she failed, would she? He wasn't going to take that chance. If she didn't get out in twenty seconds then he was going there himself and rip the stone walls to the ground.

Suddenly all four walls and the ceiling burst into a cloud of smoke, dissolving into sand and sliding to the ground in large piles. Covered in sand herself, Amy rubbed the small grains out of her eyes and looked around cautiously, as if unsure whether she'd done it or not.

"Well you managed to escape much quicker than I expected," Regina commented, glowing with pride. "Then again, you are my sister."

Amy smiled weakly, and as if to prove to herself that she really had done it, she snapped her fingers and all of the sand vanished completely.

"Now you can take a break," Regina said approvingly.

Amy's P.O.V

Magic lessons with Regina were absolutely brutal. Though she wasn't exactly mean, she showed no mercy either. By the time Regina had set me free, we'd missed dinner and as far as I could tell everyone had gone to bed.

Despite how exhausting it all was, I could feel a definite difference in my magic. Even though I felt such heavy emotions, it felt . . . lighter. Before it felt like it was weighing my body down from the effort of containing it. Now I didn't notice it unless I specifically paid attention to it. Was that really all it took? A couple hardcore days of practice with the Evil Queen?

Maybe that's all it took to keep it under control. But using it was an entirely different thing. Something I told Regina I didn't care about learning more about. I didn't even want magic in the first place and I didn't intend on using it for anything other than defense, which would hopefully be never. As long as it didn't burn my arm off or hurt anyone then I was perfectly happy.

"Amy?"

I paused on the first step of the long staircase that lead me to the room I was staying in. I turned to see Mary Margaret walking towards me, her hair long and thick and wearing a pretty dress. She held herself with such poise that I couldn't help but wonder what I should call her. Snow White? Your Highness?

"Hi," I said after an awkward pause, deciding that not calling her anything might work better.

She stopped in front of me and lowered her voice, winking at me reassuringly. "You can call me Mary Margaret, if it's easier."

"Snow White is fine," I assured her. "It's just weird after seven years of not having my memories."

"Try twenty-eight," she countered teasingly.

I laughed. "Okay, you win."

She smiled brightly, glancing behind me. "So where are you off to? We all missed you at dinner."

Never in my life had I ever heard that phrase directed at me before. But then again, she must have been being polite. She didn't even know me enough to consider me part of their little family, especially considering who I was with and what he'd done.

"I was looking for the kitchen," I explained. "I wanted to grab something to eat before I slept for the next few weeks."

She wrinkled her nose sympathetically. "Regina's lessons getting that rough?"

I shuddered. "Ohh yeah." I hurriedly added, "I mean, don't get me wrong it's incredibly helpful. But wow. She's kind of intense."

"I understand, trust me," she said, nodding. "But, uh, the kitchen's that way." She glanced over her shoulder and back to the stairs. "That's the way to your room."

I blinked. "This place is a freaking maze," I muttered. I needed a map.

My eyes shifted back behind her and I saw David walking over.

"There you are," he said, smiling at Mary Margaret like she was the only person in the room. He kissed her softly on the lips and took her hand. He nodded at me in a friendly way. "Amy," he greeted. "How's the lessons going?"

"Peachy keen," I said, forcing a smile on my face as I tried to avoid looking at their joined hands. "I'm just heading off to bed now."

"I thought you were going to the kitchen," Mary Margaret said, confused.

"Not that hungry," I said with a shrug. "I'll see you two later though, okay?"

"Goodnight!" Mary Margaret called after me. I heard the concern in her voice but it only made me feel worse. How could these people still be so nice to me? I'd certainly hadn't done anything to make their lives easier. If they were pretending for Regina's sake then I'd wish they'd just be cruel. At least it was a familiar treatment that I knew how to handle. This kindness to me no matter what mistakes I made from people other than Peter was new.

But . . . I kinda liked it.

When I got to the bedroom I'd been staying in, I stripped off my clothes and pulled on Peter's shirt before I curled up in bed, using his cloak as an extra blanket. It smelled like him and it was an amazing comfort.

But I still missed him.

All I could do was stare at the purple gem on my finger, thinking of how it had felt when I thought he was dead. It had been the most horrendous, heart-shattering feeling I'd ever experienced in my life. Then I'd had cursed Peter for a little while, which wasn't quite as bad because I knew I could get him back somehow.

Now I had him back. The curse was broken. But the demon who killed without a care still lived inside him, seizing control of his mind and making him believe he could never change that.

The childish part of me couldn't help but wonder what if I had a nightmare? Was I really going to have to go back to the whole routine of what it had been like without him?

I'd managed to keep myself from crying since I'd soaked Felix's shirt two nights ago, but lying there in the dark for the second night with nothing but his clothes to keep me company made a few tears slip down from eyes. I buried my face in a pillow, trying to force myself to stop. I used to never cry. But Peter had ruined that for me and turned me into an emotional, sappy mess.

Damn him.

I couldn't go back yet. Not after what he did. I didn't forgive him. He wasn't sorry. He thought that killing Rumplestiltskin had been the right thing to do.

For me.

The thought made me sick. I hadn't told him to do it but it certainly felt like it was my fault. Would he have done this if I wasn't around?

I let out a shriek of surprise when an arm draped itself over my waist. I jolted and began trying to scramble away, my legs tangled in the sheets.

"Relax!"

Hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me upright just before I fell backwards off the bed. Piercing eyes met mine and my body obeyed his command, relaxing in his grip. "It's me," Peter said softly.

It had only been two days and it felt like I was seeing him again after being separated for years, making me seriously question my sanity. My eyes greedily drank in every beautiful feature of his boyish face, meeting his blue-green eyes as they observed me with a serious expression, his dark pink lips slightly parted.

Once the reality of the situation hit me, I wrenched out of his hold, staring at Peter with a horrified expression. "What are you doing here?" I demanded, my throat aching from the effort of trying to keep it steady.

Peter quirked an eyebrow and my throat constricted.

"I wasn't going to let you lie here alone when you're like this." He tenderly brushed the tips of his fingers against my cheek.

Before I got too lost in his comfort, I shifted my head away. "Like what?"

He let his hand drop, going to rest on my knee instead. "Lonely. Sad. Hurting. Your pick."

I avoided his gaze, picking at the fabric of the bed sheets. He watched me for a bit, waiting to see if I was going to respond to him. When I didn't, he caught my hand.

"You've always been strong enough to handle yourself, but you still need me." I sighed, neither confirming or denying the truth in his words.

Keeping his heated gaze on me, he pressed a lingering kiss to the tips of my fingers. "Besides, I'd make a much better magic mentor than Regina."

My head snapped up and I yanked my hand away. "Have you been watching me!?" I asked shrilly.

"It's been two days and I hadn't heard a single word from you." Peter laid back, resting his arm under his head, looking at me in amusement. "I had to make sure the Charming's hadn't bored you to death."

Trying to keep my temper, I managed to say as calmly as I could, "You need to leave."

"You don't mean that," he said dismissively, closing his eyes as though this were a perfectly normal bedtime routine. His hand reached up and grabbed my arm, tugging me to lay back down.

"No," I said more firmly. "You can't stay here. I don't want you spying on me anymore either. Besides, if someone sees you they'll-"

His eyes flew open. "They'll what?" he mocked, slowly sitting back up. He cocked his head and grinned, though it lacked any warmth. "Hurt me?"

"Why do you ignore everything I ask of you?" I hissed. "After everything you've done you can't even give me time."

"Because I know it's not really what you want, Amy." His smile was unsettling, disturbing even, but I couldn't help but be captivated by it. "You're already ready to come home with me." His eyes flickered pointedly between his cloak on the bed and his shirt that I was wearing. "You just don't want to 'betray' the others."

"Go," I whispered, clenching my eyes shut. "Please, please, go away. Please, Peter."

I heard him sigh. "Alright. I'll play along for now." I felt a shift on the bed and I slowly opened my eyes, afraid to see the empty room again.

I didn't. Instead, I saw him pulling his shirt and boots off and then slide under the covers with me.

"Come on," he said tauntingly. I just stared at him, making him roll his eyes. "You don't have to torture yourself every night to prove a point. Let yourself have a good rest."

I hesitated. Were there ways this could backfire? What if he took me back while I was asleep? I dismissed that thought immediately. Peter was a lot of things but he wouldn't use force against me. Not anymore, at least. He'd prefer me come on my own account.

"You have to be gone before morning," I warned. I laid down on my side, unable to resist snuggling against him when he rolled over to face me.

I nearly groaned in relief, my body desperate to feel him holding me again. He chuckled when my leg wrapped around his waist, trying to bring myself as close to him as I could. My arms slid around his neck and I breathed him, nuzzling my nose against his soft neck.

Much better than cuddling a pillow.

"No goodnight kiss?" he murmured, his arms encasing me in a pleasantly tight grip. I didn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. Mostly because I was already half-asleep.

He kept his promise. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone.

But all I wanted was to call him back.

Rumplestiltskin stared up at Peter, wide-eyed as a gurgling noise came from the back of his throat. Peter twisted the dagger in deeper, baring his teeth as he tried to ignore the helpless look in the man's eyes.

"I'm sorry, brother," Rumple managed to get out. "I . . . hope you forgive me . . . someday."

With those words, Peter saw a flash of the little boy he'd been raised with and everything crumbled. The Dark One's eyes shut and his last breath slipped through his mouth.

"Rumple," Peter whispered. He shook the man roughly. "Rumple! Wait, come back!"

He shut his eyes as he felt the darkness take over. There was no corruption as it took over his body, trickling through his veins and shooting up his arms and legs. No longer did Peter Pan control dark magic.

He was dark magic. Never had he felt so invincible before as it consumed him from head to toe.

Just before it reached his heart, the ultimate weak spot, the magic stopped, as if the transaction was complete.

Why hadn't it taken him over completely? His entire being should have changed. His mind, body, and soul. He examined his hands, seeing that he wasn't covered in green scales.

It had to have worked. He could feel it. Peter clenched his fists and black and red crackling electricity shot out of him.

He was the Dark One. But . . . he hadn't changed.

Then it hit him.

"Amy," Peter murmured, touching his fingers to his heart. Her kiss had protected more than his memories. It'd protected his heart from getting any darker than it already was.

He glanced back at Rumplestiltskin and a tremor shot through him.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, furiously wiping at his eyes. "I'm so sorry, brother."

AN: Thank you for the reviews! As usual, very helpful and super encouraging!

Hopefully I can update again in the next few days or so. It's going to be really busy for me the next couple weeks 'cuz of graduation and stuff but that'll mellow down and I'll hopefully be back on the ball with longer chapters and quicker updates.

Yes I know I've said this before but it may actually end up happening this time.

Oh the things I have planned for this story . . .