Filler prompt: Felix takes care of Pan post- de Vil

Puddle of Mud's "Blurry"

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"Feeelix!"

Felix smirked as he added a dash of salt to his homemade chicken soup. "It's coming Pancake."

"Felix why do you deny me so!"

The photographer rolled his eyes, putting the top on the pot for a brief simmer. Pan had called him about an hour ago, jacked up on his prescribed pain meds, locked out of his apartment, and apparently "starving to death Felix!".

Felix believed it was going to be one of Pan's usual escapades if he hadn't seen the rip in his pants, revealing the cast on his still-healing leg, and the look of utter terror in his eyes.

"What was it?"

"Wendy bloody Darling." Pan miffed, spreading out on the couch and passing out.

Felix said no more and began gathering the provisions for a meal. Though he lived alone, Pan and Tink and other patrons of the Mirror were constant fixtures in his home and he learned to keep his pantry well stocked. Not that it was much of a pantry. It wasn't much of a house at that.

Two years ago the Storybrooke Fire Department gained the funds to build a much more sustainable fire department, leaving the older, smaller one to rot and be vandalized by the local youth. Felix, feeling adventurous, purchased the ailing building from a very displeased Mr. Gold (he had planned to tear the building down and make a profit off the empty lot) but would not refuse a small profit. Felix had fixed it up and now lived comfortably in his little shack of a house, as did Pan whenever he decided he needed human contact and Tink when she wanted…also human contact.

The photographer spooned the boiling soup into a bowl and carried it to Pan's sleeping form. It was hard to believe sometimes that the reporter curled up in the fetal position snoring like a kitten was one of Storybrooke's most vindictive patrons.

"Pan." Felix sung to him, tapping his nose. "Pancake, wakey wakey."

Pan's eyes flew open. "What have I told you about calling me that?"

"Only in restaurants when we want free food." He held out the tray. "Your free food's right here."

Pan groaned and sat up, snatching the soup from Felix and digging in.

Felix fell back on the opposing chair, staring at Pan's hungry pout. "What happened with you and Wendy?"

Pan rolled his eyes and swallowed. "She's staying. I headed out when I got the answer."

Felix shifted in his seat. "By 'heading out', do you mean jumped out the window?" He nodded towards Pan's leg.

"Felix, for the love of any holy deity don't start."

"I just want to know if you two got into a fight, or better yet was it you and Mr. Darling?"

Pan gaped at his friend.

Felix leaned in. "The boyfriend then?"

Pan glared at him and shot up, limping predatorily with his empty bowl to the soup pot. "No one got into a fight. We yelled, helped her mum through a panic attack, and then I jumped out a window. Usual stuff. She's staying, mission complete." Pan slammed the lid down on the pot and stuffed his mouth to keep from making conversation.

Felix smirked. "So you've met both the parents? That's going to make it easy when you two start dating."

Pan spat out his mouthful of noodles and broth, trying to force what was in his throat down or out. He slapped the counter as his eyes watered and his chest constricted. Felix had the decency to not burst out laughing until after he caught his breath.

"You…asshole!" Pan gasped.

"Hey, I'm just saying. Now that she's sticking around, maybe you two can try to develop some kind of truce and be…something."

Pan let his bowl drop in the sink, unconcerned whether he damaged it or not. "I just want her to keep to her side of the office so that I can stay in mine without feeling the need to bash someone's head in with a keyboard."

Felix frowned. "What is it about her that makes you so damn irritated?"

"Everything!" Pan burst. "She waltzes up in here with her snooty British airs and tries to up-rise me! She nearly gets kills and has to the gall to say it was all my fault!"

"It was your fault." Felix deadpanned.

Pan squeezed the sponge in the sink, wishing it was something more humanoid. He didn't dare meet Felix's eyes. The photographer had the keenest sense for details than a grade A detective.

"Are you feeling guilty?" Felix gasped. Pan threw the sponge down, keeping his eyes focused elsewhere.

Felix was lost. Pan never felt regret for the dangerous, selfish things he did. Then again, no one had ever been nearly killed right in front of him either.

Was it guilt or was the PTSD from the de Vil events eroding down his callous walls?

Maybe it wasn't de Vil at all, but a certain blond journalist with a knack for odd fashion and falling into traps.

Felix saw the air scorching around Pan's head and decided to drop the matter. For now.

"Where's your crutch?"

Pan paused, the fire brewing around him puttering out.

"I…dropped it."

"Where? I'll go get it for you."

"…Wendy's place."

Felix nodded and stood, grabbing his coat off the coat rack. "Did that happened when you fled from her apartment? What did she do, try to hit you with it?"

Pan's gaze stayed low. "Gold was coming down the hall."

Felix paused at the door. Of course Gold was the cause of his mood. Only he would put Pan in such a state that he would jump out a window with an injured leg.

"Did you talk to him for once?"

Pan gave him a dark look.

"Of course not." The photographer pulled on his jacket. "I have to handle somethings at the paper. I'll be back."

"I'll be gone." Pan sighed.

Felix said nothing else and left.

Pan stayed put, tapping his fingers against the counter and kicking is foot repetitively against the sink cabinet. Having Wendy in the continuous hurricane of his mind was bad enough, but now Gold was invading his carefully guarded thoughts and bringing back recollections he didn't want or need flying around.

Get the Hell out of my sight!

Don't touch him!

Both of you, out of my fucking sight!

The bile was coming out of Pan's mouth before he felt the acidic sting. He was thankful he hadn't left the sink; Felix would have bitched him to death if he threw up on his floors.

He watched the remnants of Felix's soup clot in the sink. He cursed Wendy and Gold both for the waste.

"I hate you." He whispered, wiping his eyes.

Whether the confession was aimed at Wendy or Gold he couldn't decide.

Maybe it was for both.

Or maybe it was for himself.

He didn't like himself much these days.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

So what is Pan's deal with Gold? This question will be answered in the next chapter for sure, whenever that comes out '^-^

This is just a filler chapter while I finish the next chapter since it's predominantly Wendy-centric. It might take a bit since mid-terms are coming up and I have to get at least a B on everything or DISHONOR ALL AROUND!

See you then!