I began writing Papers and Sleuthers just after OUAT 3B aired.
I was already frustrated after the show severely underused the Peter Pan characters and ultimately threw them away. I knew I wanted to write something, but I couldn't grasp just what.
Then one day, I was dozing in the back seat of my aunt's car and saw a missing poster for a dalmatian, and my humble little fic was born.
By season 4, I was starting college and was hit with a terrifying apprehension for the future to the point where I considered abandoning writing altogether.
While I did put a pin in several stories, I never could turn away from P&S. I don't really know why; maybe because I was starving for more fics with these characters; maybe I was hiding from my problems in the ones of these characters.
I conceived Revenge and Fireflies while I was studying for a French exam; popped out the end of Operation: Spotless during my first Christmas break; cried through Wendy's fight with Edward and her father in Reporters Down, and after a year and a half long hiatus, I finally got to write Pan's more human side when he reconnected with Belle in The Girl with Blue Eyes
Now, my 23, freshly graduated from college, and once again I'm that scared writer-wanna-be who must beg their selves to function.
P&S has been with me through a portion of my life when I was ecstatic with the idea of the future and loathed it at the same time.
I can't end it—I just can't. It's in my bones. A shitty fic conceived from a shitty show. But I want to keep it going for as long as possible. As long as I keep going. Even if it takes years.
Anyway, here's Papers and Sleuthers.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Yesterday
Wendy was furious with him, and Pan was enjoying the shit out of it.
Toying with Wendy's sanity was becoming a much-enjoyed habit for Pan, he concluded. He kept her disgusted with him enough that she kept her distance—kept her self safe from the filth of him—but just close enough that he could revel in her misery.
He had to think of his self, didn't he?
But his reveling was cut short by the ringing of his cell phone.
Duty calls. Probably Glass calling to bitch about putting an unapproved story in the morning paper.
Just another day in Storybrooke.
But when he saw the name on the screen, he felt a twinge of panic.
Just a twinge—Peter Pan was always collected—except when he wasn't.
Wendy began yelling at him again as he answered, and between her yelling and the person on the phone, he couldn't make out a word anyone was saying.
Thus he threw off his bedcovers to send Wendy into a temporary state of shock, smothering a bark of laughter at her pink face. From the corner of his eye he could see August—who for some damn reason had helped himself to his coffee AND favorite mug.
"Alright, repeat that." Pan asserted with a slight smirk.
"Pan this is bad this is so bad oh my god this is so bad!"
"Astrid, slow down." Pan demanded over the phone.
"Pan, Mother Superior…she's…she's dead!"
Pan felt the coldness in his blood slowly freeze into hard crystals.
"What? When?"
"This morning!" Astrid sobbed. "Pan…I…I'm so scared!"
Pan managed not to turn to Wendy, though he desperately wanted to.
He needed to see her eyes.
This whole thing could be pure coincidence. The holy terror could have finally met her end and died in her sleep…but there were no such things as coincidences, not in Storybrooke and not mere hours after Pan had run her in the dirt using Wendy's name.
"Damn…"
"Pan!"
"Yeah, sorry for swearing, whatever. I'll be there soon." He hung up before he could get her response.
Had he stayed on the line just a second longer, he could have caught the tail-end of her worry, and subsequently, her confession.
"It was an accident Pan! I was only trying to get her to admit what she did! I just want my freedom! I didn't mean for anything to happen to her! Pan? Pan…"
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
It wasn't until the icy wind of the cold November night hit Wendy in the face that the exact caliber of what they were about to do sank in:
They were going after Mother Superior's probable killer. A girl—according to Pan—was as much of a victim in all this as Wendy was, as any of the nuns from the convent were.
Victim or not, Pan was willing to scapegoat Astrid…for her.
Wendy's stomach twisted in guilt. No, no matter if she was guilty or not, she couldn't allow that poor girl to go to jail, not without all the facts.
Her mind started racing for someway to just…slow everything down. What would they do if they found her? Would they call the police? Or would Pan set the entire town on fire just to help her get away?
She peaked up from Pan's shoulder and could just catch the corner of his eye. What was he going to do? And what was she going to do to stop him?
They were around the corner from the convent when Pan came to a screaming halt, cursing 'shit!' as Wendy's nails dug into his abs to prevent from getting thrown into the asphalt.
"The hell. Pan!" she hissed. He shushed her instantly, pulling her from the moped and ducking behind a bush. Wendy pushed the hair from her face and saw the pulsing of police lights just at the entrance of the convent.
"Fuck!" Pan hissed. "Double fucking hell!"
"Do they have her?" Wendy whispered.
"No, doesn't look like it." Pan responded. "Graham must have figured it out! That dirty bloodhound!"
Wendy shook her head, trying to calculate their next move—should they need one at all.
If Astrid were caught and confessed, Wendy's name would be cleared.
But there was something else going on, something Pan was once again not letting her in on.
Whoever this 'Astrid' was, she meant enough to Pan that he was running after her, and Wendy sensed it was not for the sole purpose of clearing Wendy's name.
He said he helped her before, and however he did so may have caused their predicament with the dead head nun.
The police must have thought so as well if they were at the convent.
They watched as Deputy Nolan exited the front door, saying something to Graham that caused him to send a command into his walkie-talkie.
Pan nudged her arm. "We have to go."
"Where?" she whispered as she helped him roll his moped a quiet distance away.
"If Astrid's not at the convent, there's one other place she might be, but we need to get there before Graham and his pack do."
Wendy nodded and jumped on the back of the moped as Pan hurriedly started it up, holding on for dear life as he drove them into uncertainty.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
She hadn't seen the docks yet, Wendy realized as Pan eased into the eerily quiet area.
It was strange, after a month and a half of pure trauma, she thought she saw all Storybrooke had to offer. Yet there was this massive and important part of the town she'd just looked over.
A part that apparently was harboring a possible killer.
Just on the edge of a very rickety boardwalk was a small boat with a barely visible light flickering inside, the only light on the entire dock.
"Why are we here?" Wendy whispered, lowering the flashlight on her cellphone to its lowest setting.
"In that boat is a man named Leroy Miner," Pan explained. "He's been Astrid's secret lover for about four years now."
Wendy blinked at the reveal and awaited its significance to their plight.
"She planned to elope with him several years ago, but Mother Superior stopped them, and incited a dash of blackmail with Leroy to add to the pot."
Wendy nodded, releasing a knowing breath. It was a motive for murder, but why would Astrid wait so long to go through with it? She hardly seemed like a cold-blooded killer. Did it simply take her several years of being pushed to her limit, of not being with the man she loved, to finally set her off?
Or maybe she hadn't been the one to be set off at all?
"Do you think this Leroy man had something to do with Mother Superior's murder?" Wendy inquired. She could just see the outline of Pan's face in the dark.
"I plan to find out," Pan growled, rushing up to the boat. Wendy scurried after him.
"It could be dangerous! What if this Leroy man has a gun?"
Pan scoffed. "When have either one of us ever been intimidated by a gun?"
A brief flash of Cruella's black and white hair struck Wendy's mind and she went very quiet.
Unperturbed, Pan stepped onto the boat's step, ready to bang on the door and demand Astrid's whereabouts.
"Get the fuck away from that door Pan!"
Wendy shot around, shining her light on a squinting Tink.
"Watch it!" she hollered, blinking in irritation.
Pan jumped off the stepped. "The hell are you doing here!" he hissed, monitoring his tone in case he alerted the occupants of the boat.
She was going to ruin everything.
"I could ask you the same thing you little shit!" Tink spat, her own flashlight shaking in her hands. "But I believe I already know the answer to that." She glanced around him to glare at Wendy. "Trying to get part two of your little fuckfest?"
Wendy swallowed a large lump in her throat. She knew Tink's anger was misguided, but it still hurt to be so rawly despised by the truest friend she had in town.
Oddly, it was her worst enemy who stepped in front of her, shielding her from the ex-nun's fire.
"You're going to feel like a total jackass when this is all over," Pan stated. "But for now I need you to shut the hell up an leave before you blow this whole thing."
"Oh kiss a rattle snake Pan! I've been doing our own investigation. And I know what you're about to do!"
"You mean trying to save a technically innocent woman from going to jail?"
"From framing her in the first place!" Tink yelled. "You're trying to pin this on her and I won't allow it!"
"Pin it?" Pan scoffed. "I know good and damn well she had something to do with it!"
"You're here to stir up trouble like you always do! You're going to mess her up just like you did Wendy!"
Wendy winced, and from the corner of her eye she could see lights of homes flickering on in the distance.
"Perhaps we should move this somewhere else?" Wendy called out in concern.
"Why would we do that! This is perfect! I'm so glad we can have this conversation out in the fucking open!" Pan howled, the sound loud and violent enough to wake half of Storybrooke.
And the occupants of Leory's boat.
Through the curtained windows Wendy could see a fluster of movement and just the faintest clatter of glass. The string of movement traveled to the door until it slung open, revealing a stalky man in a wifebeater holding a baseball bat.
"You better have one hell of a reason to—" the man lowered his bat when he saw Pan glaring stolidly at him, a wide-eyed Wendy ducking just behind him.
"Pan?" he barked.
"Leroy." Pan spat.
"Tink?"
"Not now Leroy!" Tink yelled.
"Oh for God's sake!" he exclaimed.
"Leroy!" came a squeaky, much more feminine voice behind him.
The commotion stopped, and Wendy peeked behind Pan's shoulder as Leroy muttered a hasty apology to the person, catching a glimpse of the itchy fabric the nuns had to wear as skirts.
"Astrid?" Tink inquired hopefully.
A small sound came from behind Leroy and in a moment the young murder suspect revealed herself.
The two nuns eyed each other for a moment, each taking in their distinctions. Astrid's overly-ironed uniform that clung to her like a straightjacket. Tink's messy updo and rugged jeans, ripped at the seams from constant wears.
One was caged. The other was free.
Yet they both were still wearing their own pair of shackles.
"Astrid," Tink greeted with a wet smile. "I…"
"I was going to call you!" Astrid blurted out, her hands twitching. "Afterwards…when…" she glanced at Leroy.
Tink nodded, the worry resurfacing in her eyes.
"Please tell me what happened." Tink begged. "The sisters said you disappeared sometime this morning, after Mother Superior…" Tink shook her head, her gaze landing on a sole overstuffed bag just beside the couch. Astrid had literally packed everything she owned.
Wendy heard talking from a distance, and knew they were seconds away from having a run-in with Graham.
"Like I said, let's move this," Wendy commanded.
Pan gave Leroy a dark look, and with a grumble he stepped aside to allow the three into his crowded boat.
But then, there was total silence. Everyone was staring at each other, unsure of who to trust, who would turn out to be the real enemy.
Wendy wanted this all to end so bad, but the only way it would be so was if the woman in front of her somehow confessed to Mother Superior's murder. And that, no matter the consequence for her, is not what she wanted.
Wendy met the timid eyes, earnestly begging her to say something. The poor woman sensed her plea, and her fingers weaved nervously through her starchy skirt.
"I…I…" Astrid hesitated from behind the solidly-built man in front of her.
"You don't have to say anything," Leroy insisted.
Pan made a rush at the nun, stepping right up to her and avoiding Leroy's ready bat.
"Astrid," he said calmly, his fingers twitching to reach out and grab her. "You need to tell us what happened."
"Don't answer him sweetie!" Leroy warned. "It's a trap! Look what they did to Mother Superior!"
"It wasn't like that!" Wendy cut in.
"Sure it wasn't!" Leroy snarled. "You're just the one who wrote the story! How many more lives do you want to ruin tonight?"
Wendy locked her jaw to prevent herself from yelling at this man. He was only defending Astrid, she knew, but she was about damn tired of people jumping to conclusions about her.
Much to her curiosity it was Pan who stepped forward and got into the stalky man's face.
"How about you shut up and let us settle this before someone else ends up dead?" he warned, low and frightening enough that Wendy's throat in apprehension.
"Do not threaten him!" Tink warned, stepping between Leroy and Pan.
Pan gritted his teeth, wanting to scream at her to go away. She was going to ruin everything! But he saw the rawness in her light brown eyes. She didn't hate him; Tink didn't have that kind of bitterness in her soul, even towards him.
And there was something else there, something he hadn't seen even when she was being pulled out of Jekyll's morgue drawers.
Fear.
Fear for Astrid, fear for the a future without her wicked mother.
"Yesterday you escorted Wendy into Mother Superior's office, right?" he inquired more softly.
"Y…yes." Astrid admitted.
"Astrid, be careful." Leroy warned.
"But you didn't leave them? You hung back, heard a few things?"
"No!" Astrid defended earnestly. "I mean…I did hear the beginning of the conversation, but I left," she nodded, as if trying to convince herself.
"What did you hear," Wendy asked.
"Just…" Astrid fidgeted. "Who you were and that she upset your friend. But I left after that I swear!"
Wendy nodded, remember the bits of the conversation.
"But you didn't stay away for long, did you?" Pan pressed, and Wendy turned to see the lifelessness in his eyes. Gone was the gamemaster who had his target corner. All that was left was a guilty man who had to make the strenuous decision of turning over the culprit and letting an innocent person take the fall if he didn't.
"When did you go back?" Wendy continued.
"Later," Astrid continued, and Leroy led her to the bruised couch. "I saw you," she said to Wendy. "I saw you break in…but I recognized you from earlier, so I hesitated to call the police…I just… didn't." she looked back to Pan. "Then I saw you. You were running, and I thought something was wrong."
Wendy glanced at Pan, forgotten aggravation over yesterday's interference resurfacing. Though Pan didn't return her look, she could feel the cockiness radiating just under his skin.
With a smothered roll of her eyes, she replayed her confrontation with Mother Superior in bouts. Her coming across the half cross, confront the head nun on it and nearly losing her hand when she took the cross back. And then, of course, Pan making his grand entrance and stealing her thunder, though to his credit his presence did cause her to finally admit what she did to Tink.
Wendy rubbed her temple. If she had just looked over her shoulder, she might have seen Astrid, might have prevented all of this.
"You heard everything," Wendy concluded. "Mother Superior's confession, and her promise to deny everything."
Astrid slowly closed her eyes, the guilt written all over her face.
"Astrid," Pan growled. "Whatever you saw or did after we left will determine what's going to happen next. To you, to Tink," he barely nudged Wendy's way. "And even to her."
The young nun's head shot up, meeting Wendy's dull gaze. Wendy gasped at the wounded look in her eyes, and knew in a single moment that no matter what happened after tonight, whether she came forward or not, she couldn't hate her.
All she could see in that moment was Tink leaning into Felix's arms as she struggled not to fall apart.
She's always doing this.
Surrogate, but just barely.
Make it stop.
She wasn't looking at a crazed vengeful murderer. She was looking at an abuse survivor.
And whether she had anything to do with Mother Superior's death or not, she didn't deserve any of the backlash from it.
Wendy went looking for the truth to give Tink some well-deserved closure. It was more than apparent to her now that Astrid deserved the same.
"Wait…" Wendy sighed, ready to end the whole mess when there was a loud bang on the door.
"Shit!" Leroy yelled, raising his bat. Astrid gasped and pressed herself into the corner.
"Leroy, open the door!" came Graham's brogue.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" Pan hissed.
Wendy gasped as Tink shot past her to run to Nova. If Graham came through, it was over for both of them.
The young journalist gulped, her mind readying a very stupid idea that would either save her or endanger all of them.
"Is there a back door?" Wendy whispered to Leroy.
The stout man's face lit with realization. "Yes, and there's a supply shed just down the docks. She can stay there until I get these pests out of here."
Wendy nodded. "Astrid, come with me."
"I'm coming too," Tink announced, stashing Astrid's bag in a small cupboard.
"We'll all go," Pan added, looking out one of the back blinds. "All clear."
Graham knocked on the door again and Leroy called out to keep him occupied while the four of them quietly left through the back.
Wendy could here someone walking around on top of the boat, no doubt looking for evidence for Astrid's arrival. Up a head a flashlight was hovering about, and Pan grabbed her by the collar to keep her from walking out into it.
As soon as it lifted, the four of them quietly sprinted towards the direction of the shed, all worried that if they looked back they'd be caught for sure.
Pan struggled to get the rusty door open, the friction causing the metal to scream in protest, giving away their position. He did manage to get it open just enough for them all the slip in, the overwhelming smell of salt filling their lungs as Pan closed them in.
Wendy brought out her cellphone, the dim light barely adding illumination to the dark room.
"Watch your step," Pan warned, pulling out his own cellphone to aid her. "One false move and you'll fall into the water.
"Thanks for the tip," Wendy deadpanned as Tink added her phone light as well.
They managed to find overturned barrels to sit on while they waited, using the cracks in the walls to watch the police raid from a far.
Tink had Astrid nestled close to her side, protecting her from the elements—and worse—the two people in the room who wanted her to talk.
Wendy squinted at Pan, his emotions disjointed from the light. What were they going to do, she asked with her eyes.
I'm working on it, he said with his own.
"I…I had to have proof."
Wendy turned to a mousy Astrid. "Proof? Proof of what?"
"Remember what Leroy said," Tink jumped in, glaring at Wendy, "You don't have to say anything."
"No, no I do," Astrid gasped, pulling herself from her surrogate sister's loving embrace. "I-I-I need to let this out. I need to confess to what I did."
"Hold it," growled Tink as she jumped up and stalked over to Pan. He barely had time to raise his eyebrows before Tink lifted him by his collar and began groping his pockets.
"The shit Tink!" Pan yelled, swatting her hands away.
Tink pushed him back harshly against the barrel. "Just had to be sure you weren't recording this," she snarled. "Rule one, right?"
"Rule two, actually," Pan growled.
With Pan checked, Tink nodded to Astrid, giving her her blessing to continue.
Wendy rolled past him, anxious to hear Astrid's truth.
"You were there that night, weren't you?" Wendy gasped, searching her eyes in the weak light.
"I was…returning from Leroy's," she said with a shy smile. "And my room is right near Mother Superior's office."
Wendy watched as her hands wrung nervously in her skirt.
"So you heard me talking to her?" Wendy pressed carefully.
"Yeah…" Astrid sighed. "I heard…everything." She glanced to Tink, tears in her eyes. "Tink I'm so sorry!"
Tink shook her head, though her face was as blank as a fresh coat of paint.
"So then, what, you stuffed pills down her throat?"
"Pan!" Tink warned.
"I'm just trying to wrap this up." Pan shrugged.
"You know good and damn well she didn't kill her, Pan!" Tink fought. "Why the hell are you trying to in this on her?"
Pan glanced Astrid's way and clenched his teeth when she didn't meet his eyes. He brushed past Tink and Wendy and sat right in front of her, making their knees touch to keep her attention.
"You heard what she did, and couldn't take it, so you went into her office and drugged her up."
"No!" Astrid gasped.
"Or maybe you waited until she drugged herself up and slipped some more in?" Pan shrugged. "She have a nice cup of tea before she croaked?"
Tink grabbed his shoulder. "Pan I'm fucking warning you?"
"Or maybe you walked in at the right time?" he smiled cruelly. "Maybe she already overdosed and you made sure she didn't come back from it."
"No!" Astrid sobbed. "I would never do something like that, I couldn't!"
"Yes you can I know you can! I watched you—"
Before he could finish his accusation, someone grabbed him by the collar and pulled him around. In a second he was on the rotting wood, his nose aching and bloody, his head spinning from the adrenaline of it all.
A shout followed next.
And then a thud of something heavy hitting the ground.
The lights danced from the confusion, and for a moment Pan was surrounded by blackness.
Yet somehow it was nearly as terrifying as it should have been.
He smirked, the feeling of blood on his fingers expected but still a unrequited surprise.
He reached across the floor to grab his phone, using the light to illuminate his attacker's bloody, clenched wrist, and then her face, ready to congratulate Tink on finally getting it all out of her system.
His smile faded some when he saw it was actually Wendy, her eyes bloodshot from unshed tears, her breath labored.
Pan took in a shaky breath, squashing his instinct to fight back.
She needed this. He wanted her to have it.
"I just went to get proof."
Pan glanced up at Astrid. "Proof of what? What the hell did you take?"
"I'm guessing that," Wendy answered, nodding just behind Tink and Astrid.
Tink followed her gaze and the sight of the familiar lusterless metal stilled the air in her lungs.
Astrid hurried to the object, cradling it to her chest.
"She was asleep when I went in, so I searched for anything to prove what she did. Paperwork or something, but I found this instead."
Tink reached out and took the object, the other half of her begotten cross.
Pan stood, wiping his nose as he addressed the hurting woman.
"I was going to send it to you later, but I wanted to keep it in case she…"
"In case she what?" inquired Wendy.
Astrid looked absolutely miserable. "I…I was planning on leaving the convent for a long time. Leroy finally fixed the engine in his boat and we were going to leave," she smiled fondly. "We were finally leaving this place." Astrid shook her head—there was no time for sentimentals. "So, I searched her drawers until I found that, and I was going to call her as soon as I was out of Storybrooke to tell her what I knew."
"So that she wouldn't come after you," Pan muttered.
"Exactly," Astrid concluded wetly. "And—and I swear she was breathing when I left! She was just sleeping! I swear…I don't know what happened after I left."
Tink wrapped her arms around her from behind.
"Don't." Tink breathed. "Don't say anymore. I believe you. I get it."
Wendy gulped, stepping forward in hopes of comforting both of them.
This is all my fault.
"Don't!" Tink sobbed. "Just stay away from me,"
Astrid pulled away from Tink, holding her hands up in defense.
"No, Tink she didn't do any of this!" Astrid proclaimed. "She told Mother Superior she would let her tell you everything."
Tink glanced at Wendy, disbelief glassing over her eyes.
"But you published it anyway," she said quietly. "You published her filth for the entire town to see."
"No she didn't," Astrid jumped in before Wendy could defend herself. "She wanted to give you two a chance. Even Pan said—"
"Pan?" Tink questioned. "What the hell does he have to…"
Wendy gulped when the realization blossomed in her eyes.
Pan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was fucked.
"You did this." Tink said, not as a question but as a fact. "This was all you…" she paused, her lips twitching until her body shook with rusty laughter.
"Oh my god of course this was you!" she laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You…you do shit like this all the time!"
"Tink—"
"You take…" she breathed in a shaky breath of stale air and limped up to Pan, inches from his stoic face. "Innocent people…their lives…everything they love…and you crush it!"
Pan remained still, even as the spit flew from her mouth and hit him.
Let her have this.
"I trusted you," Tink cried. "I forgave you even after everything! After you let the psychopath lock me in a fucking drawer!"
Pan flinched, but kept his gaze with the spitting ex-nun.
"But why?" Tink gasped. "Why me? Why hurt me like this? Why her!" she motioned to Wendy. "Do you have any idea the things I said to her because of you?"
Wendy wiped the tears from her cheeks and willed herself to speak for Pan.
"He wasn't trying to hurt you Tink—"
"You stay out of this!" Tink yelled at her. "This is still on you as much as him!"
"Oh please," Pan snorted. "She's doesn't have the gall to pull something like this."
"To ruin lives?" Tink laughed. She glanced briefly at Wendy and nodded. "That much I believe."
"This was never to hurt you Tink," Pan sighed. "This was to take that bitch down once and for all. Wendy just stumbled on the perfect gateway."
"Oh please," Wendy gagged. "You invited yourself to my investigation."
"If I hadn't showed up she would have knocked your ass out and nailed you to a cross."
"Sacrilegious much?" Wendy snarked.
Astrid shook her head. "But who killed her then?"
Wendy and Pan looked at each other, both wishing they had some kind of answer.
Tink moved past them and slumped exhaustedly on her barrel.
"Maybe it really was an accident," Tink shrugged. "Maybe she took too much Vitacin and…" her shoulders began to quake. "went to sleep."
Astrid was by her side in an instant, consoling her friend and releasing her own sorrows.
Pan stood back, dumbfounded and sobbing women before him.
All he could see was Felix running after the devil nun as she dragged Tink away…begging her to let her go.
To set her free.
"You're hurting her!"
"Why!" Pan yelled at them, starling even Wendy.
"Why are you crying over that bitch? She hurt you both! She hurt so many others! And you shed tears over her? Why? Why aren't you celebrating?"
Please thank me. I did this for you.
"She was my mother, Pan!" Tink screamed.
"Oh why the hell does that matter now!" he spat.
"Because if I had found out from her rather than reading it in the fucking paper, maybe we could have a chance?"
"Chance at what?"
"To forgive!" Tink cried. "To begin again. To…something."
Something.
Why was it always 'something'?
"Now…I'll never have that." She rested her head on her clasped hands. Like she was praying.
To what?
"I'll never know what it's like to have a mom who truly loves me. If she were alive…if I knew everything…I might have had a chance then."
Tink's word cut Wendy to her core. When she first came to Storybrooke she was terrified of losing her mother. Even as she proved victorious in her fight with cancer, that god-awful fear refused to stop chewing at her brain.
Through the fear there was an intense love that made the cells in her bones sing. Her mother always had her back, always protected from her the ostracizing voices around her.
The very idea of anyone—especially Tink—not having that, and never having, broke Wendy's spirit.
"Tink, I'm so sorry," Wendy said. Sorry for the investigation. For Tink's lost youth. Even for Mother Superior and the crater of emotion her death had left on her begotten daughter.
Pan tensed.
Not you too. Please Wendy don't.
"Well this sob fest isn't getting us anywhere," Pan exclaimed. "We need to come up with a plan. Astrid says Mother Superior was still alive when she met. That either means someone finished her off or it really was an accident."
"Then let's just turn ourselves over," Wendy suggested. "Astrid had nothing to do with Mother Superior's death, and neither did we."
Pan rolled his eyes. "That watchdog will get us for everything else but murder. Breaking and entering, evading the police, knocking out a doctor and stealing an autopsy report—"
"Half of that is on you!" Wendy shouted at him.
"Technically you broke into the convent on your own, I just followed you in," Pan winked.
"On your suggestion!" Wendy fought.
"This all started because you couldn't mind your own damn business!"
"I was trying to help my friend! What have you done good lately!"
Before he could fire back, the door to the shed opened with a rusted scream.
"Astrid!"
The three gathered around the scared nun, using their bodies as barriers between her and the intruder.
"Astrid your safe!"
The three let out a strained breath of relief as Leroy's stalky body bounded through the shed and took hold of Astrid's freezing hands.
"It's over, they know what happened to Mother Superior! You're not a suspect any more!"
"What?" Pan exclaimed.
Leroy turned to him but his eyes stopped on Tink, his wide thankful grin vanishing at her tear-stained face.
"Oh Tink."
"What is it Leroy," Pan ordered.
Wendy watched in uncertainty as the man stumbled for words, for a way to spare Tink from the pain she didn't deserve.
However, there were times when one needed to just be…blunt.
"Tink, they found a suicide note."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Wendy rubbed her eyes, exhaustion sinking into her bones. She gasped when she looked at the overhead clock in Graham's office: 8:30 p.m. This day seemed to be lasting forever.
Across the room Pan was still wiping dried blood from his bruised nose. Wendy wondered if he felt guilty at all, if he would show any change at all from the experience.
Then again, she wondered the same thing after the de Vil incident as well as the Jekyll one. He was still cold, and reckless, and illusive.
Through the glass window she could see Leroy and Astrid standing, looking utterly relieved. Tink was in the other office with Deputy Nolan giving her own statement.
Wendy couldn't help but smile. They'd all been to hell and back, but it was all almost over. Astrid and Leroy could begin their lives anew, and Wendy could work on earning Tink's trust back. She was indirectly responsible for her grief, and as much as she hated to admit it, Pan was right about her busy-bodiness. She shouldn't have done any of this without Tink's blessing.
However, Tink would have closure now, even if forgiveness was a long way off.
Graham finally walked them to the door, but Astrid looked over her shoulder, smiling brightly at Wendy. The young journalist could see years of stress melt off her face.
Thank you, she seemed to say.
"Good," Wendy sighed, relaxing in her seat. "Good,"
Graham returned shortly and the two journalists were faced with a new mystery: how were they going to be punished for their various crimes.
"I should lock both of you up," Graham said. "This has been a day from hell."
"Glad we could add some excitement in your pointless life," Pan smirked.
"Shut it!" Graham warned, and though Pan's smirk didn't fade he became blessedly quiet.
"Then…just what are you going to do to us?" Wendy inquired tentatively.
"Shut up rookie!" Pan hissed. "Never show fear, rule six!"
"You both shut up!"
Wendy and Pan both flinched when Sydney's voice boomed through the police station.
Wendy herself felt a chill at the site of him, but not necessarily for the rage on his face. Glass had to use a cane due to the back injury he received during the showdown with Jekyll's lackey. Just the thought of the battle made Wendy's blood curdle.
"I leave you two to your own devices for a day and you almost become accessories in a murder!" he yelled at them.
"Please, we were barely witnesses—"
"I mean it, Pan!"
Pan stopped talking, but he popped his jaw as loudly as he could just to prove he wasn't going to be put down.
Glass sighed, leaning tiredly against Graham's death.
"This was too close a call, and your actions caused a lot a problems."
"That's journalism, Glass," Pan muttered.
"You're both suspended."
"What!" Pan roared.
"One week."
"Like hell we are!" Pan jumped up.
In a flash Glass had the end of his cane just pressing into Pan's windpipe. The younger man barely flinched, but he didn't try to pick a fight.
"I'm warning you, leave, and shut the hell up," Glass growled. "Or so help me I will make sure your writing Garden Club updates until the day you die."
Wendy could see steam rising from Pan's skin. He was ready to explode, and he would more than likely take half the block out with him.
"Go home, Pan,"
Pan glare turned to Wendy, piercing into her soul. Wendy resisted his heat. She'd accepted her part in this and would gladly accept her punishment. He couldn't hurt her.
With a growl Pan slapped Glass's cane away and stormed out of the office, the concrete of each step sounding as if it was breaking under his seething stomp.
The rest of the party flinched when Pan slammed the door downstairs.
"As for you kid," Glass continued exhaustedly. "I'll drive you home."
Wendy nodded and followed him without protest, avoiding Graham's downcast eyes.
The ride to her apartment was slow and quiet, the humming of the heat a dutiful distractor from the slight tension between the two journalists.
"For what it's worth, kid," Glass spoke. "What you did was pretty damn impressive, but this on top of everything else you and Pan have stirred up, it was either cut you down or let Graham cage you."
"Duly noted," Wendy sighed.
Another short bout of quiet followed until Glass began to shuffle around in his saddle back, worrying the woman with his slight swerving.
"Check it out," he said as he handled her a wrinkled paper. "A rought draft of tomorrow's paper."
Wendy gulped at the large printed headline of Mother Superior's story. She scanned through the story, the first-testimony coming from another nun at the convent who found the note under Mother Superior's chair after the police left, followed by a statement from Sheriff Graham.
"How does an entire forensic team miss a suicide note?" Wendy pondered aloud.
Glass laughed. "I wondered the same thing. I also wondered how the hell Superior overdosed on meds that she took for years."
Wendy paused. "That…is weird."
She turned the page for the rest of the story and saw a strangely shot picture. She squinted a bit, and found it to be a letter.
Wendy gasped. "Is this…"
"Technically yeah," Glass answered as he slowed at a stop sign. "But there is no way in hell I could actually publish it. Respect for the victim and all that. We replaced it with a photo of her."
Wendy nodded absently and turned on the mirror light to better illuminate the page. The letter was sprawled out, obviously hastily written. Wendy pondered if her hurried letter was written out of fear. Fear of the future in her position? Or with the community? Maybe with Tink, if she cared about her at all.
Wendy couldn't make out the writing after all, but she couldn't look away from the letter.
There was something else. She could feel it in her bones. Buzzing and begging to nestle deeper.
Until it finds blood.
She squinted at the letter and while the words were unclear, the penmanship was admirable with it's curvy cursive. It reminded her of her father's. It took years of practice to create such longhand, and usually by people who's livelihood depended on how well they could right. Bankers, like her father, secretariws, lawyers…
Wendy's blood went cold.
"Kid?"
It found the blood.
Wendy grabbed her bag and dumped its contents in her lap, searching hastily for the one scrap of evidence that would tie this nightmare together.
And she did.
Wrinkled under a slew of pens was Mr. Gold's cell number on his business card.
The l's on the card and in the letter were the same.
"Kid are you listening?"
Wendy clutched the card in her hand and opened the door, causing Glass to come to a screeching halt.
"The hell! Wendy?" he barely dodged her seatbelt hitting him in the face as she sprinted from the car.
"Wendy? Wendy!"
Wendy blocked him out, blocked anything out that would prevent her from getting to Mr. Gold in time.
It was ironic really.
The only time she ran in a panic was to evade a foe, yet for once she wasn't running from a monster.
She was running to one.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
It was well past closing by the time she reached Gold's shop, yet the lights were still on and the man himself was behind his desk, seeming to fill out paperwork.
Or more suicide letters. Wendy thought bitterly.
The door was locked, and Gold looked up when he heard someone jimmying the lock.
Through the glass she could see his lip tug in a half smile, and she resisted throwing the nearest rock through the door.
"A bit late, isn't it Miss Darling?" he greeted when he let her in.
"You did this," Wendy seethed when he closed the door.
"You'll have to be a bit more specific," he countered as he limped back to his desk.
Wendy rushed after him and threw his business card on the glass.
"You wrote Mother Superior's suicide letter," Wendy gasped. "It's your handwriting!"
Gold simply stared at her, brilliantly masking any fear or being caught or surprise that Wendy had put the pieces together so soon.
"That is a very serous accusation, Miss Darling,"
"But not untrue," Wendy calculated. "Do not lie to me, Gold. We've been completely honest with each other up to this point."
Gold nodded in agreement. "Indeed we have,"
"So its true then?" Wendy gulped. "You wrote her letter?"
Gold simply stared at her, and Wendy could almost think it was Pan.
And as Pan he would do, Gold tilted his head and chuckled, low and humorous. Dark.
"Why?" Wendy breathed. "Why would you do something so…heinous?"
Gold shook his head, his smirk becoming more of a tired grin.
"A variety of reasons really. Not that her dark little secret was out, I no long had the leverage I needed to keep her in my corner. She was disposable."
"She was human!" Wendy yelled.
"She," Gold seethed, "was a vile woman who used fear to manipulate people to do her bidding."
"Like you?" Wendy scoffed.
"I always give the people I deal with something in return."
Wendy shook her head. She couldn't believe this. This was a nightmare. When was she going to wake up?
"Did you kill her?" Wendy inquired.
Gold actually scoffed, as if being accused of murder was below him.
"I simply put everything into place. She handled the dirty bits."
"But the letter…"
"Was the only way you and Sister Astrid would ever be clear." He concluded, his tone dropping more seriously. "If her death remained labeled an accident, the eyes of the town would have stayed on you forever. They'd never trust you, never accept you because suspicion wins out every time."
"No," Wendy shook her head.
"And then of course there was Sister Astrid's unintentional role in all of this," Mr. Gold said in a low, almost sarcastic tone. "She would have been arrested, being the last person in her office and all,"
"We would have helped her!"
"And ruin yourself in the process," Gold pointed out. "This is what is best for everyone, dearie. You're all free now. Why not fly and leave the matter be?"
"Because it's still wrong!" Wendy gasped. "You meddled with evidence and put a horrible light on her death. That is how she's going to be remembered."
"As she should be," Gold growled. "That woman was no saint, and now she can receive the reputation she finally deserves."
"No…" Wendy gasped. This was wrong. So wrong.
Gold sighed. "You're a smart woman, Miss Darling. I no doubt you'll see the benefit in this soon enough."
Wendy glared at him, holding back tears.
"But you're also a kind one," Gold added, picking up his business phone and placing it in front of Wendy. "You have a good heart. I saw that yesterday with Miss la Bell," he paused for a moment. "And with Belle."
Wendy gulped.
"If you truly believe that revealing my folly is the right thing to do, then go ahead," he tapped on the phone. "Expose me."
Wendy's fingers flinched, itching to take the phone, call Sheriff Graham, and end this whole thing.
"But I know you won't do it."
Wendy's hand shot back.
"And just why do you think that?"
That eerie smirk returned.
"Because deep down you know I'm right. That Pan is right."
"Stop."
"And I think he's in your bones now," he nodded convinced. "And I think you do too."
"Why the hell would you say that!"
Gold tapped on the phone again. "Because you're not picking up the phone."
Wendy took in a shaky breath, willing her hand to rise.
You're just as filthy and selfish as he is.
"That's not true."
You're setting yourself up for a world of trouble if you stay here.
"No I'm not."
This town, that…maniac you call a boyfriend, they're going to ruin you.
"I'm not like him." She reached for the phone but couldn't will the nerves in her body to pick it up.
I just want to be free.
She was no saint.
And next time
No one's going to run back here to save you
Wendy released the phone and got out of Gold's shop as fast as she could, just missing the satisfied look on his face.
"Fly, fly, little bird."
Her lungs were on fire by the time she reached her apartment, her vision blurring. By shear instinct she was able to find her own apartment.
She didn't feel safe until her door was closed and locked. Until she was past her bedroom. Until she was in the deep polished tub where she could blame the sickening noises that left her throat on the aging pipes.