So...it's been...a while. Well, there's reasons for that, but to sum it up, shit got real but now I'm back! I originally had 85% of this chapter done right long before Cruella de Vil was even cast, but, again, shit got real. So the Cruella of this chapter is a mixture of Once's along with my take on it. Hope you enjoy and I hope to update more frequently.
SPOTLESS: STORYBROOK'S DOGS GO MISSING!
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
When Archie Hopper's Dalmatian Pongo went MIA, no one was too concerned. The spotted pup was always into mischief of some sort and home for dinner a day or so later. However when that day turned into five, and the fire marshal's poodle and several other dogs vanished out of thin air, the Daily Mirror set their pens afire for story ideas.
"All we know so far is that each of the dogs disappeared somewhere between mid-day and just after sun set." Peter announced to the group as he directed them toward the drawing boarded covered in the missing dogs pictures and numbers. "We need to change that; ideas, go!"
Wendy was writing away while Felix and Lily looked at each other, shrugging.
Felix and Lily were a necessity for their newest project, but it took some convincing and a very minor threat from Glass to actually let Wendy in the room. The man just couldn't get over how well the paper had sold during the Firefly incident.
"Maybe they've all just pulled a Coolidge are playing poker somewhere in the woods." Felix suggested dryly.
Peter smirked. "Always a possibility."
"We have a dog-knapper." Wendy Darling confirmed. "It makes perfect sense."
"Please shut up." Pan said. Ever since the firefly incident, Pan and Wendy had kept their distance. They had made a pretty decent team during the interviews and such, but after the second edition was printed it was like it had never happened. WITH exception for her getting majority of the credit for "coming up with the brilliant idea" as Sydney had so annoyingly put it.
Pan kept telling himself that that was the only reason he was avoiding her, yet the voice in the back of his head kept whispering guilt as the reason. Guilt that he rejected her story just for the sake of tormenting her. Guilt that he had screamed at her in front of everyone and gotten the most hurt look any other human being had given him.
But Pan believed himself above such puny emotions and discarded them as stress and carried on as normal.
"We'll have to interview some of the owners, look for suspects." Wendy continued.
"And not jump to conclusions or do anything else that's completely stupid." Pan growled. He then pulled out a notepad and scribbled down a few names with details.
"Here you go Miss Darling," he cooed as if she were a puppy, all but throwing the pad across the desk. "Go play detective for a few hours while the adults get the real work done." He turned to dismiss her but paused, "Oh, and bring me back a cappuccino; Tink knows how I like it."
Wendy glared at his turned back, gathered her notebook and reporters pass and stormed out the door.
Peter felt vaguely satisfied that he was able to ruffle the bird's feathers, but when he turned to Felix for support, the photographer was frowning lightly.
"What?"
"Nothing." Felix said.
"No, what?" Pan repeated more harshly
"I just think you ought to lay off her just a little is all." Felix stated without looking his boss in the eye. "You know…just…give her a chance."
"In other words your being a bigger ass than usual." Lily chimed in as she pulled her coat on.
"Nobody asked you." Pan snapped at her before turning back to Felix. "I gave her a chance and she went behind my back."
"What did you expect? You had her running around like an underpaid servant. That wasn't a chance for her to prove herself, it was you having fun at her expense."
"She stepped out of line."
"No she didn't." Lily scoffed.
"I think I've made up for it since then if it's so damn important to you!" he shouted at her. "She's out there playing Dora the Explorer right now and I'm staying restraining order distance from her! We're all getting a-fucking-long!"
"Then thank her! She wrote a damn good story that got shot tourism and paper sales up." Lily shot back.
"The only thing I'm going to thank her for is the resignation letter she puts in my hand."
Felix pinch the bridge of his nose, wondering how much blood he'd have to clean up after breaking up the boy wonder and Indian warrior.
In all honesty though, Lily had taken the words right out of his mouth and he was grateful for her boldness. He still did not want to admit his involvement with Wendy's story, didn't want to tarnish his friendship with Pan. Still, he wanted to defend Wendy. She was good writer and the Mirror needed her fresh mind. MOre over, the Mirror needed someone who wasn't afraid to get in Pan's face, and that person was Wendy Darling whether anyone liked it or not.
"I'm…going to go talk to Sheriff Graham about the disappearances. Call me when you decided to stop being stubborn for five minutes."
"I'm getting a cocoa." Lily added, following Felix out of the room.
"Good riddance." Peter muttered, the slam of the door indenting him more than his best friend's mindless suggestion. He sat in silence for a while, the gentle hum of the copier and drip of the empty coffee pot his only company. It seemed like that was all the company he was getting since Wendy bloody Darling showed up.
He decided sulking would be an even worse companion and headed to the record room. Maybe he'd find something that would either help him with the story or help him get his mind of Wendy bloody Darling.
It wasn't until he opened the first cabinet that he realized he was not going to get that cappuccino.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
With Pan's "blessing", Wendy Darling was ready to take her assignment with the utmost seriousness. She had always had a deep love for dogs, ever since the Christmas of her third birthday when her parents had given her a beautiful St. Bernard named Banana (at that time she could only say "Nana" and the name eventually stuck). The dog thought itself as more than just a pet, more motherly like, like she was a puppy, a fact her stern father didn't always appreciate. A few months before Wendy was to graduate from college, Nana passed away quietly in her sleep. Her death had been a blow to Wendy and still left a dent in her heart.
That was why when the disappearances started happening, Wendy swore with every fiber of her being that she's find the monster responsible.
She started with Archie Hopper, then moved down the list from everyone from the Pelekais strange mixed dog, Stitch of all names, to Eric and Ariel Finnley's German Sheppard, Max None of the dog owners seemed to have anything in common other than the saying "I've told the police everything I know." or "I don't care if this is for the paper." Even their dogs were all different breeds. There was no connections, no theories, not even a pointless conspiracy for her to go on.
Wendy groaned and flopped back on a bench seated by a small pond, rubbing her hands together as she shifted through her notes. She was glad the fireflies had come and gone because it was so cold now that they would have died immediately. She hoped who ever had the missing dogs at least had enough heart to keep them inside, somewhere with a heater or a small fireplace preferably.
She wondered what kind of a motive this dog-knapper had. She flipped to a clean page in her journal and wrote MOTIVES.
Wendy felt that reason any someone would steal anything was for money. What kind of money could be made off dogs? Wendy shuddered at her first thought. It was no secret that people, especially impoverished countries, abducted dogs, cats, and even rodents to save a few bucks on meat for their stews. This notion hardly seemed like something that would happen in such a small town like Storybrooke. There were only three restaurants in town, Granny's Dinner, an Italian place that served pizza and fine cuisine, and the small café in the music store. Also, there was butcher on Main, but Wendy had seen the meat hanging from the ceiling herself, and it was defiantly beef and pork.
All seemed to check out in the meat department, but Wendy made a note to not drop the idea just yet. Strange things happened in small towns after all.
Wendy started another dot, and shuddered at the next possibility. Puppy Mills were huge problems in the United States. Wendy had read an article about them when she was in college and nearly cried at the images she saw. Perhaps this monster was planning on starting a mass mill off of different breeds to improve variety.
Wendy chewed on the end of her pen, asking herself why he would choose Storybrooke, Maine of all places. Maybe the small, secluded town was the ideal place to act without having too many eyes on him. Storybrooke had a vast forest area that was perfect for a secret base.
There were too many possibilities and zero suspects. This case was really turning into a-
A series of yelps caused Wendy to jump. She looked around and saw nothing but a stray bird or two. The cry sounded close, so close that it made Wendy's ears ache. It was defiantly an animal…a dog!
She jumped off the bench and raced to the woods. The sounds became louder, and Wendy could now make out a gruff man's voice. She paused to listen and heard a rumbling sound mingled with the yelping. Thunder? No, it was too close to be thunder. She looked around and gasped, dropping to the ground in the nearest bush. Just a few feet to her left were two men struggling to get a large greyhound in a large truck.
Wendy crawled forward a bit to get a better look. The yelping wasn't just from the greyhound, but from several other dogs squashed together in the back to the truck!
Wendy could have squealed! She found the missing dogs!
"Okay okay!" Wendy breathed. "What to do! What to do!" she watched as the two men locked the large dog into one of the cages, one of them grasping his hand from where the dog bit him.
"I've got to get the police! Cell phone, cell phone!" she grasped around and managed to fish her phone from her bag, frantically punching numbers as she kept her eyes on the men. They reminded her of a snake and a bull frog she saw in a picture book once. One was tall and lanky. The wind would blow him into another state. The other was short and stout. You could push him down a hill and kill thousands of ants. Pity.
Wendy held her breath as the phone rang. "Come on come on!"
.-.-.-.
Pan jumped awake as the phone screamed through the office, he cursed, rubbing his eyes as he wiped the drool from his mouth and picked up the screeching device.
"Daily Mirror, you better have a hell of a reason for calling."
He was answered by silence and wasn't going to waste a second to hang up.
"Pan?"
Pan paused, hoping that the jeering voice in his ear was all part of an elusive dream.
"Hello?"
Pan groaned. "What is it Darling?"
"I…thought this was the police."
"Well it's not." Pan growled, rubbing a hand over his face. "Why do you need the police?"
"Oh!" Wendy shrilled. "I found the dognappers Pan! Their less than twenty feet away from me!"
Pan paused, once again wondering if he was dreaming. "What?"
"It's true! I followed a dog into the woods…well actually I followed the sound of a dog…and then these two men just…"
Pan waited for Wendy to continued, then got extremely nervous when she didn't answer back. "Darling? Come on don't be dead It'll take me a month to find a replacement-"
"They're leaving!" Wendy exclaimed. "They're loading the truck I have to go!"
"Wendy hold on a second!"
"Call the police! Tell them to check the forest behind Swan Lake!"
"Wendy!"
"I have to go!"
"Wendy! Wendy?" Pan slammed the phone down as she hung up, his head swirling with the insults he was going to spew the second he saw her.
"Hey!" Felix greeted as he entered the office, carrying a coffee carton. "Tink told me to bring you one of these. Something about you getting into a piss-poor mood after 5 p.m."
Pan paid his friend little mind as he searched the desk for his keys.
"You...okay?" Felix questioned as he took a sip of the coffee.
Pan located his keys and made a circle as he tried to find his helmet, his eyes finally landing on Felix.
"Felix! Thank God you're here!"
"As I tend to be." Felix shrugged. "Why are you freaking out?"
"Wendy's gotten herself into some damn trouble."
Felix whistled. "And she called you to bail her out? And here I thought you two hated each other."
Pan located his helmet and strapped it on. "We do, and it's the kind of trouble I usually get into."
"Drunk and disorderly?"
"The other kind."
"Making threats to people who are aggravating but still don't deserve it?"
"The other, other kind."
"Oh my God I'm calling the police."
Pan grabbed the phone before Felix could. "No cops yet!"
"Pan, if she's in your kind of trouble than the cops need to be called...then an ambulance, then the FBI, then-"
"I get it, I'm no good!" Pan dropped the phone and placed his hands on the desk. "Listen, Wendy's claimed she's found the people who have been taking the dogs."
Felix's eyes widened. "Whoa. Go Wendy."
Pan rolled his eyes. "Anyway, she tried to call the police, got me instead, so off I go to save her careless ass."
"Who does that remind me of?" Felix muttered under his breath.
"What?" Pan snapped.
"I said I still think we need to call the cops. We're reporters Pan, not cops. Neither of you are trained for this."
"Just stay by the phone. If things get too out of hand, I'll call you and you call Sheriff Graham."
"Why?"
"Because the man's part bloodhound and will find us before-"
"No, why not just call the police directly."
Pan pinched Felix's cheek. "I need a reporter on scene, don't I?"
Felix rubbed his cheek as Pan ran out the door. Off to play knight to a woman he claimed to despise.
"I'll give him an hour." Felix sighed, lifting Pan's forgotten cappuccino to his lips.
The door burst open and Pan skipped up to Felix, snatching his coffee from his hands.
"Mine." he yelled as he ran out the door again.
.-.-.-.
Wendy jumped and clung to the back of the old truck sped through the forest. She grabbed the handle of the truck, thankful when it immediately turned thanks to the drivers carelessness. She jumped in, fighting the bumps and jostles of the road as she shut the door. She coughed and started to breath through her mouth as a horrible stench greeted her with the whines and kisses of the stolen dogs.
Wendy felt for her cell phone and used the light to look around. There were about a dozen dogs in the small truck, all different breeds and in different forms of cleanliness. Some were filthy, while some where clean, as if they had just recently been snatched up.
Despite the awful scent, Wendy petted and cooed at the dogs, obviously just as shaken as she. "There, there babies. Everything's going to alright." I hope.
Quite honestly, Wendy was lost on ideas. Jumping from the truck would injure her or the dogs and alert the drivers and that would end badly!
She looked down at her cellphone and swore as the low battery sign flashed. If she had to try the police again, now would be the best, and only, time.
-.-.-
Felix picked up on the first ring.
"Pan?"
"Felix?"
"Wendy?"
Tink stuck her head in the door. "Felix?"
Felix looked up. "Tink?"
"No for goodness sake it's Wendy!"
"What-no-not-what is going on here?!"
"What? Oh for goodness sake!"
"What's going on?" Tink whispered as she moved in beside Felix, moving the phone out so that she could listen in.
"Wendy, where are you and what the actual He'll is going on?" Felix demanded.
"Well, I'm in a truck somewhere in the woods with a bunch of dogs, and I really would like some law enforcement!"
Tink gasped and snatched the phone from Felix. "Are you hurt?"
"No, but I don't know how this is going to play out. I'm go...ne...lp..."
"Wendy? You're breaking up Wendy!"
Felix took the phone from her. "Just hang on, Pan's on the way."
"...Wha-"
Felix cringed when the line went dead. He pressed redial and immediately got an automated voice message. "Damn."
Tink snatched the phone from him and began punching in numbers.
"Who are you calling?"
"Sheriff Graham. I have his cell and it's best if we-"
Felix grabbed the phone from her and hung it up before the number could go through.
"What the hey!"
"Peter said no cops yet."
"What!" Tink screamed. "Felix, Wendy's life is in danger and just because Pan doesn't care doesn't mean we have to."
"He does care, that's why he's going after her himself."
"Then I'm most defiantly calling Graham."
"Tink, he promised he'd be okay."
"Pan's idea of "okay" is coming out of the hospital with a concussion and two cracked ribs."
Felix really could not argue with that.
"Phone please." Tink ordered with her hand out-stretched.
Felix knew from experience that Tink could, and would, break bones when something stood in her way. Honestly, there were times when he had no idea whether to fear her or Pan more. This time he did know. Despite how Tink's eyes were digging into his very soul, it was the disappointment Pan would feel towards him if he went again his orders. He had yet to find out about his involvement with Wendy's story, and he was grateful for that, but there was no way he'd get away with lying to him a second time.
"He'll hate me." Felix whispered.
Tink frowned and caressed his cheek. "Over my dead body he will."
Felix adverted from her eyes before letting go of the phone. Despite Tink's vow, his heart still felt heavy with the dread to come.
-.-.-
Wendy held her balance as the truck came to a shuddering stop. The dogs around her whimper and nestled more closely to her sides and she shushed and cooed at them. Wendy had never felt more defenseless. Back in London, her father had always insisted she carry a pepper-spray whenever she went out, but she hadn't adorned it since she moved to Storybrooke, small, safe town.
All she had to defend herself was a dead cell phone and a strong will to survive.
She took a deep breath as one of the drivers began to fiddle with the locks.
Pan if you didn't call the police I swear-
The door burst open and Wendy was instantly blinded by an unholy bright light.
"What the-"
Wendy charged, jumping onto her assailant and knocking them both to the ground. She hoped with at least one down, the dogs would have a chance to flee. She was instantly pulled off of the man by the other one and thrown against the truck. She fell to her knees as the wind left her and only then had a chance to view her surroundings. Her stomach fell when she saw that she, the two men, and all the terrified dogs where closed in a garage-like room with steel cages full of more scared, whining dogs.
She didn't have time to panic before the man she jumped grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up.
"Well looka 'ere Horus me lad! We have us a lil' stowaway!"
Wendy kicked at his knees, squirming in his grip as the shorter man hoisted himself up.
"Ah Jasper, the Mrs. Is not going to like this! I think we-"
"You think?!" Jasper unwrapped an arm from Wendy and grabbed Horus by the collar. "Look 'ere Horus I do all the thinking 'ere, and I say we get rid of the ducky before the Mrs. comes back."
Wendy gulped, not liking the idea of getting rid of one bit.
"Look," Wendy squeaks, clearing her throat quickly. "I just want the dogs. I won't tell a soul of what I saw here if you just let them go."
"HA!" Jasper scoffs. "Not a chance Ducky," he pushed her towards Horace, "Lock her up in one of the kennels."
Wendy struggled again but found the larger man to be much stronger than his stringy accomplice. "I just want the dogs-" Wendy landed on her hands and knees as Jasper threw her into one of the kennels.
"Ah, a natural bitch, ain't she Horus?"
Wendy shot a glare at the vial man. Before she could retort however, a dirty round Cocker Spaniel that had been in the truck with her jumped up and bit his hand.
"AH! You 'ille bastard!" he screamed. "Horus! Grab that damn mutt!"
Horace, who was trying to force a giant Great Dane into a kennel meant for a K9 half his size, looked back long enough for the ignoramus pooch to bite into out of his trousers.
"JAS-per!"
"HORUS!"
Wendy wasn't sure how to react to the K9 attack on her two abductors. She was silent as the two struggled and the locked up dogs barked in support. She flinched when the Great Dane tripped Jasper against the cage, baring his teeth at his throat. Wendy's eyes fell on a set of keys that had been flown from Jasper's pocket. She licked her lips and carefully reached for them, her eyes darting back and forth between Jasper and Horus who's sole focus were the dogs.
Suddenly, a sinful pain shot through the center of her hand as a sharp, red heel pierced through her skin.
"What the bloody 'ell is going on in 'ere!"
Everything froze, the men, the dogs, and the very air in Wendy's lungs. Her eyes traveled from her blooding hand up a pair of near-skeletal legs, to a long black dress that looked like it belong more at a cocktail party than this place, sheltered by the most elaborate fur coat she had ever lain her eyes on, to a thin face with mad eyes. More terrifying than the woman herself were the two snarling Rottweilers at her sides.
"M-Ms. De Vil! We 'ere just-"
"Shut it you dimwitted idiot!" the woman seethed at him. "And get those damn dogs in the pens! I'm running a fur industry, not a damn shelter!"
The words 'Fur Industry' floated through the cloud of pain floating through Wendy's mind. "Please..."
De Vil's heel mercifully lifted and Wendy cradled her injured hand.
"Who the blazes is she?" The woman spat.
Horus and Jasper, who had finally locked up the two loose dogs, froze. "Oh...she sneaked into the van Ms.-"
"She sneaked into the van!" De Vil screamed at the cowering men. "Why don't you just post flyers all over main street! Put an add on the back of your rusted-out van! Cruella De Vil's Fur Emporium they would say! Surrender you dogs but don't tell the police! You bloody idiots!"
Her hard eyes shot down at Wendy and narrowed in. Wendy heard the dogs whimper and she knew why. This woman, in voice and appearance, was utterly terrifying. Her gaze made her afraid that her head would explode if she looked away.
Cruella's eyes shifted downwards, still on Wendy but on a different part of her. Wendy gasped as her long fingers shot out to her. Instead of the clawing or a slap to the face, Cruella snatched the reporters pass from around her neck. She studied it for a moment, her eyes narrowing at it then widening as a look of disgust and horror filled her sharp features.
"She's a bloody reporter you idiots!" She screamed at Horus and Jasper.
"A reporter!"
Cruella dropped to Wendy's level and grabbed her collar. "Who sent you?"
"I-I-I"
"Speak up child, or I'll have to use a very impolite form of persuasion."
"I-I-I came alone!" Wendy finally managed.
Cruella's jaw locked, her hard eyes boring into Wendy's. She released, practically shoving her to the floor. "Wretched reporters. Nothing but liars and..." she trailed off, shaking slightly. Her face screwed into a rather ugly sneer. "Alright Darling," Cruella purred in a voice that made Wendy's blood want to clot, more so than the curved knife Cruella suddenly brought to her throat. "You've gone through so much trouble to get your little piece, than I'm going to give you the story of the ages! Horus, grab the tape. Jasper, the chainsaw."
Wendy's eyes widened and she fought against Cruella's grip as her larger goon grabbed her and the other ran off.
"It doesn't matter what happens to me!" Wendy shouted as Horus forced her into a chair. "My source from the paper knows I'm here! He's already called the police and their looking for this place right now!"
The knife in Cruella's hand pierced the wood right beside ear, grazing the cartridge just enough to cause pain but no bleeding.
"That may be so my little sneak." Cruella snarled. "But by the time they get here there won't be anything left of you for them to save."
Wendy dared not allow the full extent of what she meant to hit her. Instead she focused more on fighting against the man taping her to the chair.
"Just do what she says ducky." Horus whispered as he secured her shoulders. "She'll 'in you like one of her coats she will."
"Thanks for the tip." Wendy muttered.
Jasper came back in swinging an old chainsaw back and forth. "Lookie 'ere lookie 'ere what I got!"
"Quit your grubbing." Cruella snapped, snatching the chainsaw from Jasper.
If Wendy didn't feel like she was going to be sick from fear and the smell of unwashed men and dogs, she might have laughed. Cruella de Vil was nothing more than an ultra-thin layer skin a top of frail bones. It was amazing she could lift the chainsaw let alone start it.
"Choose." the devil woman growled at Wendy.
"Choose what?"
She waived the chainsaw in the direction of the dogs. "Which one."
"Which one what?"
"Which dog does she skin, ducky," Jasper intervened.
"What?" Wendy gasped. "Skin? None then!"
"Look Darling," Cruella sighed, "You can choose or I will." she smirked, "It'll give you a personal touch to your piece."
"You're sick." Wendy muttered.
"And you're rude." Cruella hissed. "Now choose or I'll skin every dog in this room!"
Wendy clamped her lips shut, praying that her stubbornness would by her some time so that the police would show up. A small whimper caught her attention and she found herself look down a the little Cocker Spaniel that had fought for her. Poor baby. She was so round she could barely move...
Oh god. She's pregnant.
Wendy's gaze shot up to Cruella who was leering at the Cocker Spaniel.
"No!"
Cruella looked down at one of the Rottweilers and cocked her head in the smaller dog's direction. The buff beast jumped and snarled on her and dragged her to Cruella's feet.
"No please! Don't hurt her she's pregnant!"
Cruella pulled the chord on the chainsaw. Just when Wendy was sure it wasn't going to start, the tool came to life with a horrible roar.
"You can't do this!" Wendy screamed over the sound.
Cruella turned to her with the most peculiar look in her eyes. Lust for for the darker things in life. Lust for the tears that were beginning to steam down Wendy's cheeks.
"Watch me."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Peter slowed his moped to a stop, his heart racing a bit as he spotted what he hoped were the tire tracks to the truck Wendy had hopped aboard hours ago. He kept telling himself that his sole purpose for this anxiety was because this was the story of the year, but there was also that very minuscule nerve in the darkest corner of his brain that may or may not be somewhat concerned for Wendy Darling's whereabouts.
True, she was the biggest pain in the ass he knew (and he'd known Lily Tigress since adolescence). But she was a pain in HIS ass, and he was at the point where he could bear a little discomfort. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon and he was slowing making his peace with that. She was a presence in his life now, one that he needed now that she was so active in it. This is why finding her and the source of his latest story was of utmost importance. Losing them both would cause an imbalance, and Peter did not react to kindly to change.
There were indeed tracks on the ground, and judging by Wendy's directions and the isolation of this side forest, they had to be the truck tracks. Pan fished out his cellphone and dialed the Mirror, following the tracks by foot while lugging his moped.
He was answered on the first ring. "Is she okay?" Tink's voice demanded.
"Oh I'm great thanks. I can play connect-the-dots with all the bullet holes I've received."
Tink was quiet for a moment before she began yelling. "Damn it Peter this is serious!"
"Relax Tink. As for Wendy, I can't answer for her. I haven't found her yet, but I did find the tracks to the truck she was in. Put Felix on the phone."
"I will not put Felix on the phone! You need to-" there was the sound of a shuffle and Pan smirked as he heard Tink curse.
"What is it?" Felix suddenly answered.
"I need you to do some homework for me." Pan stated. "Find out if there are any abandoned buildings in Storybrooke, especially in the woods, and if they've been rented out with in the last six months or so."
"Fine but..."
"These dognappers wouldn't bring them all the way out here unless they had somewhere discreet and fairly private to hold them. Call me if you find anything."
"Peter hang on." Felix interrupted. "Look," he said in lower tone, "Tink called Graham. He's probably searching for you by now."
Pan growled, irritated but not surprised. "She really likes sucking the fun out of things, doesn't she? You would know of course-"
"Peter! We have a reporter and the K9 population of Storybrooke lives is on the line! This is not the time to discuss my sex life!"
"He did what?!" Peter heard Tink vaguely yell out.
"Yeah get back to me with that info soon bye!" Pan hung up before he could get an earful from Tink.
He sighed. He would have to speed things if he wanted to get to Wendy before Graham. There was no way he was letting a story like this slip away.
He continued following the tracks until he came into a large clearing. By then it was dark and his cellphone acted as his only light. Due to the minimum light, the trail was invisible. Despite this slight frustration, Pan pressed on. Wendy was here somewhere. Probably right under his nose He just had to look a little further...
A scream echoed through the woods. A scared, feminine scream that was close enough to shake his bones.
"Wendy." He muttered, trotting further into the woods until a dim light illuminated something close to a shack. In this shack he heard animistic whining, machinery of some sort, and Wendy's screaming.
No. Not screaming.
Pleading.
"Stop! Please stop!"
Pan's blood turned to ice as he numbly searched for an entrance into the building. His hand scraped against cold metal which vibrated with Wendy's screams and the sound of the grinding noise.
He looked around for a weapon of some sort, wishing he had thought to bring the pocket knife Felix kept in his drawer. He caught site of a rusty truck and came up with a possible suicidal idea. He climbed in the truck, thankful that the idiot driving it forgot to take the keys out, and attempted to start the rusty thing. He got a few weak purrs out of it but the damn thing refused to start.
"Shit shit shit! Hang on Wendy."
He pressed on gas and soared...
Wendy's throat was too sore for her to scream anymore. Her entire body was numb, her heart and mind boggling down from the weight of the things she had witnessed. Her eyes fixated on the thick blood soaking into her shoes. Despite the exhaustion, she mustered a dirty glare at the blood-soaked woman leering at the mutilated dog at her feet as her goons stripped the fur from its slimy flesh. The blood-splattered dogs encased around them were huddled against the walls, too quiet, too fragile from what they had seen.
The pregnant mutilated dog.
Monstrous bitch.
"Why are you doing this?" Wendy managed.
Cruella chortled languidly, casually stepping over the dog's remain. She squatted down to Wendy's level.
"Oh my dear girl, you're not the dark type are you?"
Wendy glared through the blood on her lashes. "No I'm not."
Cruella sighed. "Well bloody Hell this is going to be hard to explain." she tapped her well-manicured finger to her chin, turning to her goons and laughing. They followed hesitantly a moment later. Who could laugh while cleaning up dog parts?
"Darling, since I was young, I've been told to beware the darkness and run from it." she ran the same nail around Wendy's cheek. Wendy wished it would fall off. "But what I really wanted to do was splash in it and have fun!" she shrugged. "And make a profit while I'm at it."
"You're crazy."
"And you've written your last story little busy-body. Fetch me my gun Jasper."
The man, who just moments ago took great pride in mutilating helpless dogs, cringed at the very idea of shooting someone. "Oh come on Ms, can't we just knock her cold and leave her in town? We'll be gone come morning-"
"What have I always taught you Jasper? No. Bloody. Witnesses. Now get me my damn gun!"
Jasper spared Wendy a glance (pity? No, not pity, not remorse even, just a glance...) before he scampered off to do his mistress's bidding.
"You're going to kill me?" Wendy scoffed. "You made me witness...that...and now your just killing me?"
"Of course Darling. You didn't really expect to do the who 'don't ever speak of this and I'll let you go' bit did you?"
"Might have crossed my mind." Wendy muttered, trying not to panic in her final moments. She thought about her family. Her poor mother would be devastated. Hopefully her brothers would strengthen up and soother her mother in her grief. Then there was Tink and Felix. She hadn't known them long but she hoped they didn't hurt too much from her lost.
And then there was Pan.
She know she should care less how he would react but deep down she really hope he attempted to mourn her. This whole time she struggled to impress him, earn his respect. All she got was his scorn. Maybe she'd earn a tear or two from him. Just something would be enough.
And then she'd haunt him for not calling the damn police!
"Well Darling," Cruella sighed, checking the bullets in her gun. "this is it, for you at least."
"I'll spit on you on your way into Hell." Wendy spat, grateful she was able to keep her voice from shaking.
Damn it Pan.
Cruella leveled her gun at Wendy's head. Good. A swift kill. She would hardly feel it.
Wendy inhaled and closed her eyes, a small sob breaking from her throat.
Oh God.
And then she felt it. The painless sting of the bullet embedding into her forehead.
Well, actually, it more grazed her forehead than embedded, and it hurt like hell.
She heard it too, the pow of the bullet blowing her brains against the wall.
Then again, is sounded more like a truck crashing into the building, which she discovered upon opening her eyes was exactly what it was.
She inhaled deeply, taking in many shocked breaths and being thankful for each one even if they did smell like blood and gasoline. In front of her, less than ten feet actually, was the very truck that Horace and Jasper had driven. To her dismay and relief, Cruella de Vil was face-first under the truck, her gun several feet from her. Horace and Jasperwere knocked out on separate corners of the room.
In her haze of shock, Wendy barely noticed how the truck had hit the wall, bending one of the chain mail doors and allowing the dogs to start slipping out. Cruella's Rottweilers followed, tails tucked and taste for blood non-existent.
Oh god. Oh thank god.
"Damn IT!"
Wendy jumped as one of the doors to the truck shot open and a very angry Pan emerged, holding his shoulder.
"Son of a bloody bitch I didn't think I'd ever get that thing started!"
Wendy gasped and felt as if the life had just be sucker-punched back into her.
Pan continued to curse as he kicked debris from his path, jumping when he saw Cruella's unconscious body under the car.
"Damn. No one we know I hope." he sighed and made it to Wendy.
The two stared at each for a long moment, neither sure what to say. Did she yell at him (tempting), thank him (not tempting), beg him to get her the Hell out of here (VERY tempting)? And what was he supposed to do? He knew that he was not apologizing (what a ridiculous thing to do)or asking if she was okay (also a stupid question; the girl was covered in blood!).
Honestly though, he really thought he should. Wendy looked ready to jump out of her skin and could use some form of comfort, even if it was from him. But old habits were hard to break, and the only thing that bubbled to his lips was an insult.
"You look like shit." he reached out and grazed his fingers over a large gash over her head. "Looks like a piece of debris got you when I popped in." he wiped the blood on his jeans and bent down to undo the restraints on her wrists and ankles. "My bad, by the way."
Wendy laughed. And then laughed some more. And laughed until she was full-out hysterical.
Pan took a step back. "Darling...?"
She stood, still shrieking, and wiped the dust and debris and dried blood off her. Then when she thought she was about to pass out from hysteria, she turned to Pan and beat against hims bad arm over and over again.
"Ow! Bloody Hell Wendy stop!" Pan pushed grabbed one of her offending wrists.
"Why didn't you call the police!" she screamed at him.
"I...did..."
Wendy glared at him, daring him to choose his next phrase carefully.
"Well I did!"
"Then where are they!"
"Calm down they're...coming."
"I hate you." Wendy breathed. "I hate you. I hate you. I HATE YOU!"
"Hey, do you want to sit here and yell at me or do you want to get the Hell out!"
"Honestly, I want to yell at you!" she shoved him back and he barely landed on the hood of the truck. "Do you have any idea what I've been through in the last hour?"
"I can only imagine-"
"I have seen a pregnant dog get ripped from its skin! I am caked with her blood! I have been harassed, injured, violated and it's all because of you!"
"Excuse me? You're the one who ran after the damn truck!"
"You're the one who wanted the damn story!"
"Oh so it's my fault you decided to run off into the woods and play detective?"
Wendy had to pause and collect herself. The blood loss and shock was finally hitting her and she'd need what little strength she had left to get the rest of the dogs out.
"You've pushed me Pan. Pushed my patience and pushed away the possibility that you were something more than an lonely little cockroach who had nothing better to do than drive me mad. So yes, this is your fault, because I have not been in the right state of mind since the day we laid eyes one each other!"
Pan's mouth opened for a response, an ugly one is Wendy had to guess, but the only thing that came out was a shout.
"I'm frustrated too!" she yelled at him.
He groaned and fell back, gripping his thigh, blood oozing between his fingers.
Wendy gasped, stepping back as Cruella picked herself up, fresh blood dripping from the knife curled in her shaking hand.
"You...snit!" Cruella snarled. "You ruined everything!"
Wendy took several steps back, sending several glances back at Pan. He looked pale, but angry. As long as he had that snarl on his face she knew he'd be okay. But he was bleeding so much...
"I'm going to turn you into bath mat you little wretch!"
Wendy kept her eyes on Peter. If she stayed focused on him, maybe it wouldn't hurt when Cruella killed her. His eyes were on her too, but they kept shifting to some point on the ground. She followed them and felt her heart leap when she saw the gun. She looked back at Peter who's expression screamed "get the fucking gun stupid!"
When she looked up again, Cruella was look at the gun too. They glared at each other for barely a second before they sprinted to the weapon.
Cruella's leverage came from Wendy's blood loss, but her downfall were the four inch heels that ultimately slowed her down. Wendy sprinted in front of her and leveled over the gun before the fur-coated bitch grabbed Wendy by the hair and yanked her away, throwing her on the ground.
When Wendy looked back up, the gun was poised right between her eyes, a leering Cruella stumbling to keep it straight.
"Goodnight Darling."
Wendy gulped. This was it. She couldn't cheat death a second time. It was over. Cruella was going to blow her brains out and then probably kill Peter.
I'm sorry Peter.
Wendy heard a click-
and then a crack-
and then Cruella was on the ground, her temple bleeding profusely from the bloody clump of debris beside her head.
Wendy turned to Pan. He was pale and shaky but he was grinning.
"Goodnight bitch!"
And then he passed out.
Wendy could only sit there and try to make sense of what had just happened. She wasn't dead and Pan had saved her.
Pan had saved her.
And now a man in a leather jacket was running into the building, gun poised and eyes darting everywhere. When he saw the damage, his expression matched Wendy's.
"Are you alright?"
Wendy blinked. No. Yes. Hell is she knew.
"I'm okay."
The man bent to her level and grazed his fingers over her forehead just as Pan had done. "That's a nasty cut, but it's clotted. You'll need stitches though."
Wendy only stared at him. His words weren't making since to him and his face was getting very fuzzy...
"Miss? MISS!"
Wendy passed out in his arms.
"Oh...boy.." he rested her against his shoulder and fished out his walkie-talkie. "Emma? I found Pan and...a girl. Call for backup...and an ambulance..."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Miss Darling.
Miss Darling you have to wake up now.
She didn't want to; she was so warm and same in this dreamless blackness. But the voice calling her name tugged on her consciousness to the extent where she couldn't ignore it.
She opened her eyes and adjusted to the sight of an annoying white light.
"There she is!"
And an even more annoying voice.
"Welcome back Miss Darling. My name is Dr. Whale."
Wendy turned away from the light, blinking back the black dots, and gasped when saw an unconscious Peter with his leg in the air lying in the bed next to her.
"Pan!" Wendy shot up but the doctor pushed her back down gently.
"Easy Miss Darling; there's no need upsetting yourself."
"Peter-"
"Is fine."
"His leg..."
"He has a pretty deep wound and he's lost a lot of blood but he's going to be fine. You have a mild concussion and needed stitches in your head and hand."
Wendy cradled her bandaged hand, remembering Cruella's painful red pump all too well.
"You just rest now. Sheriff Graham will be here tomorrow to question you both."
Wendy gave him a weak smile and flopped back down on her pillows, sighing deeply.
"You do realize he was flirting with you."
Wendy looked over to see a very awake Pan.
"He's got at it with every nurse in this hospital. He came on to Tink once and she poured coffee down his back."
She giggled despite her exhaustion, watching as he adjusted himself so that he could sit up as comfortable as one with a slinged leg could.
"You look like Hell." she commented.
"You look worse." He sighed dramatically and leaned into the pillows, closing his eyes. "Another quiet day in Storybrooke, Maine."
Wendy scoffed. "Mr. Glass is going to get a kick out of this."
"This pretty much blows your little bug story out of the water."
Wendy rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that'll be the intro when you right this adventure for the paper."
He stayed quiet for a moment before quietly stating, "I won't be writing this piece."
"What? After everything we just went though? Blood, injuries, Cruella de Vil? You're just not going to write it?"
"I'm not writing it because you are."
Wendy's brow furrowed in confusion. "Me?"
"Wendy, this story is practically about you. You did the interviews, you chased down the dogknappers, Hell, you even faced-off with the culprit."
"I wouldn't all it a face-off..."
"My point is that you witnessed things tonight that I can't exaggerate. You're the only one who can tell this story."
Wendy chewed on her lip in thought. She thought about being trapped in that dark truck with a dozen plus dogs begging for her help, about the little pregnant Spaniel who defended her only to be skinned alive by that devil woman...
She didn't know if it was the memories, the medicine the doctor had her on, or just nerves but Wendy burst out into tears.
Pan panicked. Threats and curses were his specialty; tears were his ineptness.
"You don't have to write it right away. Take a few days off, get some sleep and just lie on it." she kept crying and Pan had no choice but to go into good-guy mode.
"I know you saw some sick stuff tonight Wendy. I'm...sorry you did." She began to calm down and the words flowed more easily. "It's a lot to ask right now, I get that. That's why..."
"Why what?" Wendy sniffled.
"Ugh...that's why...I'm going to co-write with you."
"You...you mean it?"
Pan shrugged. "I save your arse. That means I have some kind of dumb, spiritual, responsibility crap on you."
Wendy laughed, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "You did save me, didn't you." the weight of the words washed over her and she mused on them. "Why? I though you'd be cheering that devil woman on as she pummeled my brains out."
"Don't talk like that." he growled.
"But why did you do it?"
"Did you really think I'd just let her kill you?" he scoffed.
"Well...yes I did."
Peter shot to her, genuinely surprised that she'd think him so dark. He knew he came off as a complete ass to her. Hell he made sure he did. But to make her think that her life had no value to him was never his intention.
"Well I don't." he said. "You add chaos in my life Miss Darling. I need a dash of that every now and again."
Wendy smiled. He was on formalities again. A shame but hopefully they'd grind those down.
"You promise you'll be with me as I right this?"
He grinned. "Peter Pan always keeps his promises."
Wendy chuckled and pushed the blankets off her legs, pulling her IV stand around so that she could walk with it. She might regret this, but she might as well do it while she had the nerve.
"What are you doing?"
She blushed. "I think it's customary for the fair maiden to kiss the knight upon her rescue."
Oh.
Oh shit.
"Uh...Wendy."
She reached his beside and touched his cheek.
"Look Wendy...you're in shock! You're on hospital drugs! You're delusional!"
"Stay still."
What the Hell could he do?! He could barely move and common sense wasn't working with her like it usually did!
"Nurse-"
Their lips met. Peter was wide-eyed in shock but found himself slowly begin to relax. Who would have thought the very lips that cursed him a few hours ago would be so warm and soft?
Before he could really get into it, she pulled back, their lips separating with a slow, wet pop. She opened her eyes and stared into his. He grinned rather dumbly.
"Damn Miss Darling."
Her small smile faded and Peter watched as regret began to fill her features.
Damn it no!
"Wendy...no...wait I'm-"
"WENDY MOIRA ANGELA DARLING!"
The couple shot back with a yelp. In the doorway was a past middle-aged man who look absolutely disgusted with what he just witnessed.
"F-father!" Wendy exclaimed.
Peter suddenly felt another headache coming on.
Double shit.
Another body appeared beside Wendy's father. Peter heard Wendy gasped and turned just in time to watch her reach out for the bed.
"...Edward?"
Oh...boy
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Hi...it's me again...like I said life got rough the last time I updated this story. Do to this, I was unable to get to the Cruella arc before Once got their pesky little hands on her. I suppose it's for best; she WAS pretty awesome. Anywho, I'm off for summer break and other than a few odds and ins I have to do before school starts, I plan to spend the summer dedicated to my writing, especially P&S.
A special thanks to desklazy for the encouragement and the inspiration to finish this chapter.