Hi RK here! I've rewritten this chapter five times; no lie! I am so sorry for the wait but I am touched to tears that so many people wanted me to continue this. With this big chapter out of the way, I'm going to be working on prompts for this fic as well as some I have for Rumbelle. Prompt me if you want!
Song of Choice: "Far from Home" 5 Finger Death Punch
Warning: this chapter contains light gore and touches on the subject of PTSD. Due to the circumstances of the recent events, please read with caution.
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Wendy's head was spinning. She'd barely slept that night and now she had to find some kind of explanation for her brooding father. There really wasn't much of one. She did something rash and completely screwed it up. That would hardly cut it for her stone-wall of a father.
The paper cups and dingy hospital waiting room were a far cry from the fine china and fireplace Mr. Darling was used to in his comfortable home in London. The newspaper splayed with the events from last night gave the small room a more hostile feel to top it off.
"REPORTERS DOWN: Reporters in Hospital after an investigation gone wrong"
Apparently Pan, after snatching a nurse's cellphone and sneaking into the bathroom, had called Sydney in the wee hours of the morning and insisted on a drama piece to keep the people of Storybrooke on their toes. Wendy had heard every nurse that walked by talk about it; apparently it didn't take much to get the small towns' blood pumping. Sheriff Graham had to postpone their statement-interview to calm the situation with a press-release, leaving her unwanted down time to spend with dear old dad.
He was reading the paper like he did any morning, but now his face was twisted in disgust. Once in a while there was a hint of concern when he looked over at her, but it faded as soon as he got to the next sentence. After what felt like an eternity, he gently folded the paper, took a sip of his bitter tea, and looked to Wendy. His finger tapped against the hard chair expectantly, his unrelenting gaze bearing into her just as it had when she had done something naughty as a child. It was annoying and humiliating that she was still able to bend at her father's authority at her age.
"Well young lady," Mr. Darling said, crossing his arms. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
Why are you here? Could you not over-thinking this? Why is my ex-here?
"How's mother?" Wendy asked in an attempt to steer the conversation.
"Poorly." her father stated rather harshly. "God only knows what kind of shock this will give her."
"It might make her laugh." Wendy muttered.
"I highly doubt that." her father scolded. "Now I want the truth."
"Father," Wendy sighed, holding her already aching head, "it's a really long story."
Mr. Darling sat back in the uncomfortable chair. "Trust me young lady, you're going to have time."
"No I'm not Father. I have to check out of here, go to the police station, go by the paper, go by the animal shelter-"
"Stop." her father haulted. "This rubbish is insisting you went out of your way to get yourself nearly killed."
"It's not as bad as you think." Wendy defended
"Poppycock!" Mr. Darling raged. "I come into this disturbed country to check on my only daughter and find she's in the hospital. I think it's the very definition of bad."
"The third person isn't necessary." Wendy mumbled.
"I," Mr. Darling picks up, "didn't know whether you were dead or alive so forgive me if I automatically assumed the worse! Not to mention when I finally find you're…you're…"
"Please don't…"
"Locking it with that blasted snarl of an American!"
Wendy buried her face in her hands, wishing that they were higher than the second floor so that she could jump from the window.
Mr. Darling growled and sipped the horrible excuse for tea. "I was never for this; you moving to America and the lot."
"I know." Wendy responded.
"You should come home Wendy. There are plenty of opportunities in London for you."
"You mean there's opportunities you want me to take." Wendy snarked in the least respectful tone.
Mr. Darling's eyes hardened. "Your tone, young lady."
"It's my life-"
"And your parents' reputation."
Wendy scoffed. "Of course."
"And yours." Mr. Darling added. "If you think you can earn a name for yourself running around this town like an outcast Sherlock Holmes than you have a lot to learn young lady."
Wendy was so close to losing her temper. So close that she didn't mind bringing up the subject that had been weighing on her mind since late last night.
"If you were so concerned about my reputation then why did you bring the man I broke up with."
Mr. Darling was finally lost for words. Did he really believe that she would just be okay with her ex-fiancé to the place she was trying to start over?
"There's nothing wrong with an acquaintance of the family wanting to check in on a member of such family." her father explained as casually as if he was talking about dog races.
"Funny, no one bothered to ask me if I wanted to see him."
"Wendy-"
"If this some ploy you and Mr. Barrie cooked up to get us back together than you can get back on that plane and go straight back to London."
"Wendy, do not take that tone with me!" Mr. Darling demanded.
Wendy jumped up, glaring at her father. "Don't talk to me like I'm an imprudent child!"
The anger between them seethed like hot ashes. If the tension between them tightened any further, Wendy was sure Mr. Darling would indeed leave and write her off completely. At the moment that sounded like a grand idea.
Fortunately for them both, Sherriff Graham rounded the corner.
"Miss Darling." The Sherriff greeted. He held out his hand to Wendy's father. "Mr. Darling I assume?"
"Yes." Mr. Darling responded, taking Graham's hand. "Tell me constable, just how much trouble is my daughter in?"
"Father." Wendy groaned under her breath.
"Nothing that can get her arrested sir." The sheriff answered with a gentle smile. "I just need her to help me to clear a few things up."
Mr. Darling looked back and forth between his daughter and the sheriff.
"Father, I promise I will give you an extended version later."
"That won't be the only thing we'll be discussing." Mr. Darling confirmed, putting on his hat and nodding to Graham. "Constable."
Wendy gritted her teeth to prevent herself from shouting out an obscenity. Her father, in lack of better words, was being a total ass and it was the last thing she needed. She turned to the sheriff and though his eyes were kind, she felt a great wave of nervousness wash over her.
"Have a seat Miss Darling." Graham offered.
Wendy took the offered chair a bit ungracefully.
"Would you like some tea or coffee before we begin?"
Actually I'd like to get the eighty hells out of here if you please.
"No thank you."
"Okay then," Graham brought out a tape recorder and pressed PLAY, "Could you tell me what happened prior to your kidnapping?"
Wendy looked to Graham with befuddlement. "Kidnapping?"
"Pan stated you were kidnapped. That's how you ended up in de Vil's truck."
Wendy sighed. Pan had gotten to Graham first and probably twisted the story around. "I wasn't kidnapped sir. Held against my will yes, but not kidnapped."
Graham nodded. "I'm used to these kind of calls from Pan. I'm sorry his bad karma rubbed off on you."
"It wasn't that…bad." Wendy lied. It had been the most terrifying moment of her life actually.
"I highly doubt that." Graham stated, giving her a sympathetic nod before continuing. "According to Pan, you ran off without order, threw yourself into the dognappers truck, and faced off with the culprit on your own all the while refusing police help."
Wendy rolled her eyes. "Most of that is complete poppycock! I didn't just runoff to investigate, it happened by accident."
"So how did you end kid-in de Vil's hands?"
"I stole into it to try and save those dogs." Wendy grimaced at the memory of the tight, smelly truck filled with scared dogs who were counting on her to save them and get them home.
Graham watched Wendy sniffle, catching the way her eyes were starting to glass over. He pushed the tissue box across the table. "We can take a break if you want.
"No." Wendy sniffled, "Let's just get this done."
"Pan said you were "facing off with de Vil" when he arrived."
"No, I stood there with a gun pointed to my head while Pan rammed the dog nappers truck into the wall."
Graham sighed. "I had hoped that had been fictionalized. He always ends up destroying evidence. Then what happened."
"She…" Wendy rubbed at her aching hand, a strange chill etching up her spine. "Peter and I were yelling at each other and she…"
Graham watched as Wendy closed her yes, fearing she was passing out. "Miss Darling?"
Pan was at her feet losing more blood than he had. Cruella had the gun pointed at her head.
There were dead dogs everywhere. They hadn't been there before? Why was there so much blood there wasn't supposed to be that much blood-
Goodnight Darling
Wendy felt the bullet nudge her shoulder and she jumped from the chair screaming.
"Miss Darling? Miss Darling!" He ran around the table and secured her hands, pulling into a secure stance as she fought through her flashback.
"Miss Darling." He whispered. "It's okay. It's over now she can't hurt you."
Wendy stared at Graham in sheer disbelief. It wasn't over. How could something so awful ever end?
"Sheriff," a nurse inquired, "should I call Dr. Whale?"
Graham waved her off, holding Wendy until her breathing slowed and her trembling lessoned. He had his share of witnessing survivors break and knew just how off the brink she was. Some of them broke immediately, some managed to hold it together for a few days or even a week before the psych-gates burst.
"Miss Darling," Graham said gently, "I think we're done for today. I talk to Whale about giving to something to help you relax-"
"No!" Wendy fought. "I don't any medicine or anything else! I can't be in that room with Pan another moment! I just want to be somewhere familiar. Please Sherriff get me out of here."
Graham stared at the trembling girl in his grip and nodded. "I'll talk to the Doctor. But you have to promise me you'll rest when you get home. No paper. No sleuthing. Nothing for at least 24 hours, got it?"
Wendy managed a nod and allowed him to escort her back to her room. Wendy stopped right outside the door, groaning. In all the commotion, she hadn't come up with a plan on how to explain the kiss to Peter. The situation spoke for itself really. She was frazzled and did something very rash. He knew this. Still, Pan wasn't exactly the most tactful when it came to being gentle. He'd probably tease her about it for the rest of their natural lives. If she was extremely lucky, he'd simply let it go.
Like that'd ever happen.
Speaking of the little demon, he was propped up in his hospital bed, his leg still in a sling. A laptop was balanced on his lap, a cellphone in his ear. The bastard was a great multitasker if nothing else.
"Wendy!"
She looked up just in time to see Tink throw her arms around her, mindful of the hot Styrofoam cup in her hand.
"I was so worried." Tink said as she pulled away. "Felix and I tried to get to you last night but Graham would let us past the waiting room."
"So we camped out next to the vending machines." Felix stated as he exited the tiny bathroom. "We stocked up on crackers and I got you a coffee."
Wendy wasn't entirely sure how she felt about them being there. Yes, they were friends and anything was better than being alone with Pan, but at the moment the room looked more like a newsroom and Wendy was not ready to answer questions or relive the experience.
"Get it while it's hot." Felix said, handing her the warm paper cup.
"Thanks." Wendy said quietly.
Felix bent down so he could whisper in her ear—it was the closest he'd ever been to her.
"Do you need us to leave?"
Wendy looked at him, a yes weighing on her tongue. Then she saw the bags under his eyes and the way Tink rubbed her neck as she read something to Pan and shook her head.
"Actually, I might be able to leave pretty soon."
"Oh good." Tink said from across the room. She looked at Pan who as typing away. She nudged him to gain his attention and then motioned to Wendy.
"What?"
Tink glared at him. "She says she's checking out soon."
"Oh." Pan said, turning back to his laptop. Just as his fingers touched the keys his eyes widened and he full acknowledged what Tink said.
"No, you can't go yet." Pan stated. "We need this story written and printed by tonight."
"Pan." Tink warned.
"I'm holding Sydney and the rest of the bloody town off as much as I can. I need her side of the story while the piece of de Vil's list of crimes still appeals to the public. Everyone wants to know about the reporter who brushed death with the Devil. That's what I'm calling the story, by the way."
Wendy rubbed nervously at the bandage on her hand as images of the terrifying woman ran through her mind.
"Pan that's enough!"
"Tink calm down."
"No, I'm sick of his badgering!"
That mad, evil woman…
"Is she still in Storybrooke?"
Her voice was so small but it somehow reached the ears of the three feuds.
"She is…" Tink began.
Oh god.
"She's still here."
"Wendy there's nothing to be afraid of."
"She's going to try to kill me."
"No. No sweetie that's not going to happen."
The room was getting smaller. Walls were closing in on her and all that was left was a cell full of dogs. She looked around for an escape but only one thing was clear: Pan's wide eyes as she fell back.
Her head did not collide with the floor but with a slightly softer surface.
"Ooooh kay." Came Graham's gentle gruff. "You definitely need to rest." He sat her upright on the bed, allowing her to lean on him as her head cleared.
"I was going to take her home Sheriff Graham." Tink spoke.
"Actually I'm taking you all home." He craned around to the bathroom where Felix was trying to hide. "You too Felix! You can't keep camping out by the vending machines all night. You're going to go home, eat, shower, and I don't want to see any of you in public until tomorrow." He turned to Pan then and grabbed the laptop, shutting it abruptly. The same goes to you and don't think I won't cuff you."
"Ooh, kinky." Pan smirked, rolling his eyes.
"Watch it." Graham growled in a way that would put a wolf to shame.
Wendy turned away so that no one would catch her snickering. It was odd to see someone throw orders at Pan. Scratch that, it was down-right hilarious.
"Can you walk now Miss Darling?" Graham helped her to her feet and escorted her, Felix, and Tink to his car, leaving a very unhappy Pan behind.
After dropping Tink and Felix off, he walked her to the stairs of her apartment. "Would you like me to walk you up?
"I don't think so." she hesitated. If any of her neighbors came knocking for questions, Graham might be useful in fighting them off. But she rather have him guarding that devil woman than wasting precious time with her.
Graham nodded and handed her a card. "That's the sheriff station's number. I wrote my personal cell and Deputy Nolan's as well. If you need anything, call, okay?"
Wendy smiled. "Thank you, for everything."
Graham gave her one of his gentle smiles and turned to leave.
"Um, Sheriff Graham?"
He paused.
"The…de Vil woman, is she…"
"Under lock and key." He reassured. "We have back up coming from Boston later on to day to take her away until the internationals can get here. You have nothing to worry about."
She thanked him again and watched him leave, feeling terrified and vulnerable. She dashed up the stairs to her apartment, earnest for her familiar space.
However, it would appear that peace was the last thing Wendy was going to get.
She almost screamed when she saw someone in her apartment, stilling instantly when she saw the familiar grain colored hair and coco bean colored eyes.
"Edward." She gasped.
"Wendy!"
She stiffened when he ran up to her, drawing back into the hallway when he opened his arms for a greeting.
His hands dropped instantly and he stepped back, blushing politely. "I'm sorry. Your landlord just let me in."
Wendy smiled and tore through her mind for a more pleasant reaction. She knew that she'd be seeing him again since her father had dragged him from London. She had hoped however that she could do it a week from now...when he and her father were on a plane back home.
"It's good to see you." she stated. It wasn't a total lie. Their breakup had been swift and friendly and there was no need for unpleasant tendencies. She hoped.
"I'd offer you tea but…" she held up her bandaged hand.
He chuckled lightly. "That's fine. Actually, I wanted to invite you to dinner."
Wendy raised an eyebrow in question.
"I hear the Bed and Breakfast here makes great burgers. Would you like to?"
All Wendy really wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep until tomorrow night, but she hadn't really eaten anything since yesterday and a burger and onion rings sounded like heaven.
"Will my father be there?" Mr. Darling's scowl would certainly spoil the appeal of hearty diner food.
"He said he was staying in tonight. It'd be just us."
Wendy let it sink in. Having a nice dinner with her ex might not be the worst thing to happen to her. Hell, considering what she just went through it wouldn't even make the top 5.
"Sounds fine." Wendy agreed. "Just let me shower and change first."
Wendy took her time, both due to the pain of her injuries and the wee hope that Edward was just an illusion from fatigue and would be gone when she got out.
Alas, he was still standing in her living room when she finished dressing. Edward put down the magazine he was flipping through and smiled. "Ready."
No. Please go away.
Stay. I don't want to be alone.
"Let's go."
-.-.-.-.-.-
Despite orders to "stay in bed, don't work, and eat something other than coffee and junk food damn it I will cuff you", Pan and Felix found themselves at Granny's counter awaiting pints and burgers as they discussed their next move for the paper.
"You almost died last night." Felix commented, his eyes resting on his drink instead of Peter.
"Yeah I know." Pan argued, tapping the thick bandage under his pants leg. "Life's short, live to the fullest, blah blah help me think: how are we going to get Wendy to write this story?"
"Don't you think she's a bit too PTSD for this task? You were there; write it yourself."
"I was too busy driving a truck into a wall to take notes." Pan reaffirmed. "Besides she...witnessed more. I can't compare to that."
"You've stretched the truth before."
"Yes but that was on stories that needed the extra excitement. This case is over-packed with it. I need Wendy's side of it before the excitement gets old."
Felix finally looked at his friend. His eyes were following the fizz in his beer, which otherwise laid untouched.
"Yesterday you were going to have her on ads for the rest of her life; what's changed?"
Pan's gaze lifted and he stopped, staring into the mirror on the bar. His face was littered with scratches. He was used to the on-the-job injuries. He even started keeping the hospital bracelets as souvenirs. Yet Wendy was new to the strange and sometimes dangerous life of a reporter. Last night had been just an hors-d'oeuvre compared to filling feast that was to come. The appetizer may have been all she could take. Maybe she'll pack up and go home now.
Good riddance.
Somehow the phrase he'd been spitting each time he thought he won didn't make him feel as victorious now.
A movement of blond hair in the mirror caught his attention. His gaze deepened when he saw Wendy taking a seat with the fellow from the hospital last night.
"Pan?" Felix inquired.
"Directly behind us, three booths to the left."
Felix began to turn when Pan hit him.
"Where's your sleuth skills man!" Pan hissed at him.
"I think I left them at the hospital. I should have left you there too!" Felix hissed back. He settled quickly and looked more discreetly at the mirror. "Who is that? Her brother?"
"I don't know." Pan husked. "But I'm gonna find out." He grabbed Felix's sleeve and pulled him to a booth close to the restrooms.
Having dinner with her ex was not nearly as awkward as she had intended on it to be. Edward went on about his job at his father's bank and Wendy talked about her Firefly story and about the popularity it stirred up.
"Sounds like you've had quite the adventure." Edward commented before dipping a fry.
Wendy looked at her glass. An adventure was what she craved when she came to Storybrooke, but suddenly desk work and paper pushing seemed ideal. It depressed her because she didn't really want that kind of life, but for the moment she wanted to feel safe.
"What about your adventure last night?" Edward asked carefully. "Are you going to write about it? I'd like to get a copy before we go home."
Wendy gripped her glass tightly. When she thought about last night's horror show she felt numb, her brain freezing in fright. She couldn't see the words she wanted to come out. Only blood and the distinct black and white hair from that mad woman.
"I...I don't…"
"Pardon me?" came a sultry voice.
That numbness that had been flowing dormant through Wendy's body stirred up. She couldn't blink, couldn't gasp in fear, couldn't even lift her head to see if, by some miracle, the voice didn't belong to the devil woman who was haunting her mind.
"Can we help you mum?"
Cruella stood in a black rain coat, the only color on her was the white streak in her hair, covered mostly by the hood, and the red of her shoes. The very shoes that put a partial hole in Wendy the night before.
"Edward!" Wendy forced out. "C-could go outside...to the payphone and make a call to my father? See if he wants us to bring him something?"
"The phone booth? Wendy I have a cell phone-"
"Please Edward." Wendy couldn't even keep her voice straight. She saw Edward pale, rise, and carefully walk away from the table.
"Such a nice boy," Cruella teased, bumping Wendy with her bony hip so that she would slide over. "I'd love to make a chair out of his skin."
"How are you here?" Wendy inquired so lowly that she couldn't hear her own question.
"That Deputy of yours is handsome, but much too confident. Had his lovely back turned for one second and I had my nails in his throat." She admired her nails, now caked in dried blood and bits of skin. "Good manicure gone to waste, but at least he won't be a problem now."
"So you're here to finish the job?" Wendy scoffed at the bad movie-line. She kept her eyes straight ahead, not wanting the last thing she saw to be the mad woman.
"That's the nice way of putting it." Cruella chuckled, stirring Wendy's drink with her straw. "I'm going to kill you darling." Cruella said curtly. "I'm going to shoot you over and over again until I run out of bullets. Then I'm going to run over you until you're nothing but a stain on the pavement." With that, she pulled a gun from her cloak pocket, pressing it into Wendy's side.
Wendy searched around for some kind of help but no one seemed to realize the cloaked ominous stranger was actually an insane gun-happy dog killer.
"And then," Cruella continued, leaning closer to Wendy as if she were indulging a secret. "I'm going to find your little savior and do the same to him. Only I'm going to take my time with him; killing men has always been an indulgence of mine. It's so much fun watch the look of betrayal in their eyes. They never see it coming, such entitled idiots. Women always do; as you know darling, we're such distrustful creatures. We're always expecting a knife in the back, even from the people we trust most."
Pan suddenly froze, his hand stopping inches from his glass, his eyes wide in utter terror on the mirror.
"What?" Felix whispered. "Pan what is it?"
Pan rose slowly, bowing his head to hide his face, and headed towards the restrooms. Felix rolled his eyes and followed suit, sick already of his friend's unnecessary secrecy.
Edward fumbled with his cellphone, unsure if he should call her father or the police or whoever solved problems in this town. Something was terribly wrong and he didn't want to risk getting either one of them harmed if he couldn't handle it. The police were the best bet, but they wouldn't make a scene if this turned out to be just an uneasy feeling.
Just as he had the seconds 1 down, Edwards phone was snatched out of his hand.
"That's not how we do things around here." Pan sighed as he put his phone in his back pocket.
"You!" Edward exclaimed. "From the hospital-"
"Yes, yes, hault your fangirling." Pan grabbed his arm and led him to the men's room as quickly as he could on crutches, Felix reluctantly at his heels.
"Everybody out!" he yelled as he waved the bathroom patrons off. Felix waved off at the confused gazes and herded them out.
"Okay," Pan began when all was clear, "That psycho woman is out and about and I highly doubt it's because she made bail."
"Psycho woman?" Edward gasped. "Is she-?"
"A pain in the ass." Pan deadpanned. "and must be dealt with delicately." He peaked out the door into the hallway. He could see Wendy but as long as he didn't hear bullets flying or screams of terror he didn't panic.
"Then let's call the police." Edward protested.
Pan rolled his eyes. "If old teddy graham couldn't get her the first time, I doubt he could take her out now."
Edward's brow fixed into a glare. "Wendy could be in danger, and I'm not going to let some amateur sleuth take matters into his own hands and get her killed!"
"…Amateur?" Pan spat.
"Pan…" Felix stepped forward.
"No, no," Pan waved Felix away. "AMATEUR? I have solved more cases in this town than the Boston police force! I have seen things that would get most people a slit throat! I have survived things that is worthy of a slot on the discovery network!"
Edward eased back slightly, unsure what to make of the boastful, bruised paperboy in front of him.
Felix thankfully intervened, pulling Pan back. "He has a point Pan; this woman is psychotic. We can't do this on our own this time."
Pan wanted to argue but he—begrudgingly—relinquished the fight. He was too banged up to risk another beating…and Wendy was in trouble or something. As he said, this problem had to be dealt with delicately.
Like a beacon of hope, Granny came bustling towards the back of the diner, picking up left behind dishes and crumbs. She was just reaching for a glass when Pan crept up behind her and touched her hand.
"Lord boy!" Granny hissed. "I was close to chopping you dead in the throat!"
"You have to get everyone out of here." Pan told her, his eyes now cast on de Vil's cloaked back.
"Excuse me?" Granny huffed, in no mood for Pan's shenanigans.
Pan licked his dry lips, his mind starting to spin as time they didn't have ticked. "The woman in black right in front of us is an escape convict. She's the one from the paper, the De vil woman."
Granny's expression paled but Pan didn't stop.
"I don't care what you have to do. Get these people out of here."
"Pan...I swear if this is some ploy for your paper-"
"Granny Lucas," Pan growled, his eyes meeting hers, "I've stretched the truth my entire life. I've added an elaborated detail or two to every story I've ever written and I've hurt countless people and I've done it all in the name of journalism. But right now, there is a woman in your shop who tried to kill Wendy and I and would have laughed while doing it and she may just do it to every single soul in this establishment."
Felix exchanged a nauseated look with Edward and then Granny.
"That's going to be bad for business if nothing else."
Granny snatched away from him and stalked away from them.
"Alright everyone!" Granny roared into the restaurant. "A M.A.S.H marathon is coming on in five minutes. Everyone out!"
Wendy let out a small mew of relief when the pressure of Cruella's gun lifted.
"Now!" Granny shouted
Cruella pressed the gun harder. "Try anything this bullet goes through you."
The customers muttered in question and slowly trickled out, some taking their plates with them which Granny oddly said nothing about. While everyone was hustling about, Pan and Felix snuck over the counter and waited in the bottles, pulling a reluctant Edward with them.
"Looks like we'll have to speed this along darling." Cruella taunted, pushing Wendy into the alley outside of Granny's diner. Wendy shot around, coming face to face with the devil woman's gun.
"She's got to have a gun around here right?" Felix searched along the cash register. "All business owners do."
"Granny's 'problem solver' is either a crossbow or an empty lasagna pan."
"Well I can't find either and Wendy's about to get shot!" Edward hissed.
"Shush!" Pan peaked over the counter to see the door slam.
Edward about jumped over the counter. "Their exiting through the back. Their exiting through the back!"
"You don't have to do this." Wendy pleaded. "If you kill me...and Pan...it'll only make things harder for you."
"I'll go to prison for life." Cruella shrugged. "I've been in worse prisons. Knowing you and your prickly little bugger of a boyfriend are dead will be solace enough to get me through a lifetime of cell walls."
Wendy bristled. "Pan is not my boyfriend. He isn't even my friend…" Wendy felt a twinge of sadness then. She had made progress with Tink and Felix, but she never got the chance to try with Peter…
"I suppose you're the vanilla type anyway." Cruella snickered. "That fellow at the table with you then? Two men at once. I tried that with husbands once; worked flawlessly…until they found out and I had to kill them both."
Keep her talking. Wendy thought. Buy time for someone to come.
"What happened to them?"
"The same thing that's to happen to you."
"And that would be…?"
"You're a horrible staller darling."
"I know." Wendy whispered in what could almost be a whine. "I just really don't want to get shot today."
"And I didn't want to have the business I've spent the last two years patching together follied by some snoop but here we are." She popped the safety on the gun and leveled it to Wendy's head.
Wendy felt the air leave her body, felt her very soul start to slip away. This was it. This is what staring at death felt like. She hoped it didn't hurt. She hoped she was patched up before her father had to see her.
She hoped Pan could save himself.
"Freeze!"
Cruella shot around, aiming the gun at a very disheveled Sheriff Graham.
Cruella gritted her teeth, her jaw making a disturbing popping sound. "Ah bloody Hell didn't I kill you?"
"Put down the gun!" He yelled, aiming his own at her.
"I will blow your head off!" Cruella screamed at him, pulling the trigger and causing one bullet to embed the edge of the concrete wall, chips breaking off and hitting Graham. He hid behind the wall, peeking out slightly.
Wendy shot to the door, pushing desperately against it. Locked. She was in a closed alley with a maniac and her only exit was locked.
"Miss Darling, stay calm!" Graham called out.
"Don't even think about moving!" Cruella added.
Wendy pushed herself against the wall, wishing she had the strength to knock it over so that she could run away.
"Miss de Vil," Graham crooned. "It's not too late to turn yourself in. The DA already has a deal worked out for you. Stop now and you'll still have a chance."
"A chance to spend only half my life in jail?" Cruella scoffed. "Generous of you darling, but I rather blow the little twits head off."
"Wait!"
Wendy gawked when her father came running up behind Graham, Edward at side. The moment he saw the gun in Cruella's hand, his usually steady demeanor blanched, years of stress and fear sprouting from the deep rows in his face.
"Stay back!" Graham barked.
"I can help constable. She's my daughter."
"And she," Graham nodded to Cruella, "wants your daughter dead. You don't want to piss her off!"
"This is a negotiation then?" Mr. Darling began rifling through his jacket, "I've read enough of your American smut novellas to know how a negotiation works." He pulled out his checkbook, neatly bound under its leather casing. "Miss, I will write any sum you deem appropriate for my daughter's life."
"Do you think I'm that stupid!" Cruella barked. "All the money in the world doesn't matter now; I know where I'm going and my only consolation is that this little bird goes down too!" She whirled around, her gun pointed at Wendy's head.
"Wendy!"
Wendy heard a pop, saw a flash of black, and then hit the ground with a sheer blow to the head. Everything was suddenly so still, so quiet. The only movement Wendy was aware of was the warmth of her blood rushing down her forehead into her hair. Now that it was happening, death didn't seem so scary…
Then…
Pan was suddenly standing over her, his face was in anguish, his jaw fixed in a continuous roar.
What is your problem Pan? Can't you just let me die in peace?
There was a pop somewhere inside her head and suddenly Wendy could hear his shouts.
"Damn it Wendy get up!"
Wendy gasped, her body suddenly erupting with tiny prangs all over her body. First from her forehead, which had been hit so hard that blood had started to ooze under her bandage. Then it was her back, the gravel pressing into her skin like hundreds of misplaced acupuncture needles. Then it was her head again; it felt like the bullet had plowed straight through her skull.
"Get her inside!"
"Come on come on!"
Wendy suddenly realized that Pan was picking her up, dragging her by the underarms back into Granny's. Wendy could barely make out the bullet hole in the dense metal.
As soon as her ankles started pulling gravel into the diner, Felix slammed the door, snatching Wendy from Pan's arms and dashing behind the counter from harm's way.
"Did you hear any more shots?"
"No. I think Graham finally got her."
"Thank bloody God I am so over this!"
Wendy followed Pan and Felix's voices back into awareness, her brain feeling like water sloshing around in a half-empty plastic bottle. All her senses alighted at once and Wendy thought her head would surely explode. She could smell the greasers from the fryers, taste the dryness on the top of her mouth, and feel the itchy stickiness on her forehead.
"Did I get shot…"
"No," Felix answered, pressing something cool to her forehead. "Pan hit you with the door."
"I didn't know she was behind the damn door!" Pan exclaimed, "You're the one who wanted to go charging in the line of fire-" Pan jumped when Graham came bounding through the back door, Mr. Darling and Edward through the front.
"Is she okay?" They all inquired in a jumble.
"Her head's pretty messed up, but that could just be Whale's poor stitching."
Wendy blinked and suddenly she was surrounded by a sea of action; Graham yelling orders into his walkie talkie, her father pressing napkins to Wendy's bleeding head, Granny bursting back into the diner and yelling for a reason why everyone was behind her counter. And more pressingly, the pair of sharp green eyes with an emotion she couldn't place.
"Wendy?"
Wendy blinked and suddenly she was looking into another pair of eyes, these earth brown with clear worry bearing into her.
"Hi Edward." Wendy stretched as she sat up, feeling stiffed but more rested than she had before. She looked around at the disgustingly familiar hospital room.
"Where's my father?"
Edward barely secured his grin. "He…passed out after you did."
Wendy snorted at the mental image of her stern father fainting at the sight of blood. "He's alright, isn't he?"
"He said he's buying the first plane ticket out of here and he's throwing both of us into his suitcase."
Wendy laughed, her nerves too shot to do anything else. She was alive. She had death nipping at her heals for days and she was free with a sprained wrist and a gash in her head as her medals. She was relieved and scared and in disbelief that she was even here.
"Edward," she sighed, "how did it even get this far?"
"I'm still trying to figure it out." Edward shook his head. "You've really shed your skin Wendy Darling."
"Is that good or bad," Wendy asked as she fussed with the too-tight bandage on her wrist.
He inclined his head a bit. "Some people like a little change. Others not so much."
Wendy looked up, staring uneasily at the light blush on his face.
"Edward," she began carefully, "why did you come here?"
He sent a hesitant glance her way before turning to the window. "Would you believe me if I said it was because I like the weather this time of year?"
"Considering we live in London where the sun shines twice a year, not really."
Edward smiled gently and nodded, his gloved hands twitching. "I...missed you, I suppose."
Wendy cringed at the confession. She feared something like this might happen the second he poked his head in the hospital room the other night. She thought good-natured, non-romantic banter would have diminished her concerns but now they were back on the low wave of dread.
Their dating life had been…satisfying at best. Edward was a typical dream boy: handsome, charming, a perfect gentleman. But Wendy could describe the version of Edward she dated for eight months in only one word: boring. He had no zeal for life or adventure. She could predict everywhere they were going, the outcome of every date they were going to have, even the outfits he was going to wear. If she were more devious she might have tried to pick a fight just to change up their routine.
Then one night after a painfully predictable date, she dropped the breakup bombshell. He was surprised, and slightly hurt of course, but he didn't fight her. It was a clean break, the only backlash she received being from her father who worked with Edward's father. Wendy later found out that her father had been counting on a marriage between the two of them in order to guarantee a partnership with Edward's father's banking firm in the future.
Despite her disgust and annoyance at her father, Wendy felt happier after their break up that she had in a year. She finally felt free to pursue her passion for fashion, later journalism when her sketches kept getting constantly rejected.
"Thank you Edward," Wendy nodded, "It was great to see you again."
Edward jumped up, a new determination etched into his face. "Wendy you can't stay here, not after everything that's happened in the last few days."
Wendy held her tongue and allowed him to get his bursts out.
"It's too dangerous here, you must realize that now."
"No kidding." Wendy sighed.
"Then you'll come back to London with me?"
Wendy sent him a glare that caused his spine to straighten.
"Us. I meant us. Mr. Darling and I."
"I know what you meant, and I'm declining."
"Wendy…"
"Edward, I know what I'm doing."
"Really?"
"Yes." She shot off. "I'm not some naïve school girl who needs a pat on the head every time something goes wrong. Yes, it's different here, yes I'm terrified, but I want to stay here. I think I need to."
"What you need," Edward pressed, "is to be safe. Think of your Father. Your mother."
"I'm always thinking of them." Wendy fought back. "I know for a fact my mother would want me to stick with this. Unlike my father and you apparently, she believes in me."
Edward opened his mouth to defend himself, but he closed it just as quick. Wendy needed no more reassurance.
After a moment of heated silence, Edward turned back to her. "So that's it then."
"I guess it is."
Edward just sort of nodded, unsure of what to say. Not that there was anything else to say.
"Fine." He grabbed his jacket, tearing it on in a frenzy.
"Fine." Wendy agreed, wrapping herself in a blanket burrito and turning her back on the doorway. She heard his footsteps stop suddenly and bit the pillow so hard she could taste the hospital's detergent.
"You have changed Wendy, and not for the better. You're setting yourself up for a world of trouble if you stay here. This town, that…maniac you call a boyfriend, they're going to ruin you. And next time no one's going to run back here to save you."
Wendy waited until the steps faded before she unclenched her teeth from the fabric. "I don't need saving." Wendy yelled after him. "And he's not my blasted boyfriend."
She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would flood her senses again. However, sleep continued to tease her, the slightest sound making her nearly jump out of her skin.
She knew Cruella was gone now. She repeated it like a mantra to lull her to sleep. Yet her mind kept replaying disoriented images of bloody floors and yin and yang hair. She could still smell the dogs in the claustrophobic truck in whiffs, the gasoline from the same truck after it was crashed in the wall.
Wendy finally sat up, hugging her knees close as she stilled her thoughts. It was all still too real. Still fresh on her mind. Every detail, every smell, every word that came from the devil woman's vile lips.
She looked towards the window and low and behold there was stationary laying at the sill. She rose as slowly as possible, using her IV pole to ease her onto her shaky legs. Her head was splitting, the large gash further distorted during the showdown with de Vil burning like fresh iron. She finally collapsed on the cushioned-but-still-hard chair and stared down at the STORYBROOK GENERAL lettering displayed at the top of the pad. There was a ballpoint pen stationed neatly next to it.
Wendy wondered briefly if this was Pan's doing and then decided that it defiantly was. He was a persistent little bugger if nothing else. They had two stories to write now and time was ticking. He had promised he would be with her when she had to peel back the scabs of the horrorfest and relive every detail. She'd go mad if she had to write this alone.
She reached over for the hospital phone and dialed Tink. After a brief chat and a promise that she'd come by in the morning, she gave her Pan's cell number and Wendy reluctantly dialed away.
It rang and rang but after five tries there was no answer. Wendy slammed the phone down and took in a deep breath. The little bugger had put her through a world of Hell and wouldn't even answer her phone calls!
She stared down at the pad, her fingers clenching and unclenching. She wasn't ready to write again, but some embedded instinct, the same one she went by the night she broke into the Mirror to write the Firefly piece, was pushing her forward.
She uncapped the pen wondering where to start.
She wrote it out as more as a diary entry, reliving the event as it happened. She kept writing even when head started aching so bad she thought she would pass out, when she thought she saw a flash of Cruella standing over her with a gun, or when the scent of blood from the skinned dog curled her stomach.
In gratitude and in terror, she continued until the pad was full and she was drained of words. With a throbbing hand, and a blank mind, Wendy dropped the pen, pushed the pad away and wept bitterly until she fell asleep.