Author's Note:

Happy New Year everyone! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing the previous chapter! You should all have gotten messages; if you didn't, my apologies; I've been running around like a crazy person. Message me and I shall properly tell you how awesome you are. :) To Lil, thank you very much! I do hope you enjoyed your Christmas presents, and I do like Rose a little bit better myself.

To everyone else, I hope you enjoy the chapter (shoutout to Hildebrant for the chapter title)! Thank you so much again for reading and supporting this story!

~ladykikyo1792

Chapter 16: If you even try to look the other way, I think that I could kill this time

"Hello, Laddie."

Rumplestiltskin didn't turn around to acknowledge the very unwelcome guest in his shop. Instead, he said:

"The sign says we're closed. As I'm sure you read." Calmly, he continued to polish the bronze lamp in his hands. He'd learned over the years that, as with most predators, it was better to mask any fear when around Peter Pan.

"And I'm sure you know that I've been waiting to say hello alone. Unless, of course, you'd like your lovely wife to be involved."

At those words, sharp as a razor blade, the Dark One let the piece fall to the floor with a clatter and spun to stand behind his counter. Pan leaned against a shelf by the door to the shop, arms crossed. His eyes glittered with cruel amusement.

"I know this isn't a social call, dearie," the Dark One said, "so what is it, exactly, that you want?" He was attempting to sound lighthearted and carefree, but the reality was he anything but. Rumplestiltskin feared nothing- not while he had his dagger, anyway -save the being standing before him. He had faced him before- twice. The first time, Rumplestiltskin hadn't won, but Pan had concluded the game early by granting him freedom. The second time, when he had last ventured to Neverland, he'd lost. He had no desire to do business with his old enemy again.

Pan's gaze narrowed, "I'm not anyone's dearie, and you'd do well to remember that, Laddie," he placed extra emphasis on the last word.

Rumplestiltskin flinched, as if he had been struck by a whip, "What do you want?" The infernal boy had no reason to be in his shop unless he desired something- and if he was threatening Belle, he had to want it very badly. Or so Rumple told himself, clinging to what he'd remembered of Pan: unless one played his games, Pan left you alone. Belle had never been a player, and so she was safe.

But I played, Rumple thought with a shudder.

Peter strode towards the counter. Bending over the yellow glass, he smirked:

"I want to make a deal."

"I don't make deals with the likes of you," the Dark One replied instantly. It was perhaps the only time in his life he'd ever outright refused a deal. Deals gave him power, and power gave him safety and control. However, Peter Pan was just as old and clever as Rumple, and Rumplestiltskin suspected that Pan could spin a deal designed to give the Dark One authority to benefit himself.

"I think you should. I have excellent terms for you," the boy said. His voice was earnest, and he sounded innocent enough. Yet his eyes were dark and calculating. Wary, and unable to fathom what lay behind Pan's gaze, Rumplestiltskin didn't answer.

As the silence dragged on, Pan smiled, then said:

"You know that I'm here for the Heart of the Truest Believer. Although my life is no longer in danger, Neverland still requires the magic from the heart in order to heal. You lot did some...damage to it," he paused, mouth twisting in dislike and determination, "I will get the heart no matter what, but it will be far easier for me- and much better for you -if you don't stand in my way."

"Why shouldn't I? I've finally got Bae's forgiveness. I won't risk losing that by letting you kill Henry," the Dark One retaliated. All he had ever wanted was Bae, and now that Bae was finally back in his life, and willing to at least speak with him, he wouldn't trade it for any possibility with the demon boy in his shop.

"You and I both know, Laddie, that you're always out for yourself, and for power," Pan replied, shrugging, "I don't judge you for it. You've made something of yourself- one of the few who's actually become better as a grown-up than as a child," he smiled again, then almost whispered, "and I think you will keep going after power. In fact, I'm sure of it." He stared at Rumplestiltskin, daring him to say otherwise, though both of them knew he couldn't. Power had always been Rumplestiltskin's weakness, because he saw it as a way to safety: the most precious thing any coward could acquire. For the Dark One, who had maimed himself to escape military service, nothing was too outlandish for him to escape danger. And Pan was one of the very few who actually presented realistic danger to him.

Peter grinned, pleased at being considered a worthy opponent, "So this is what I offer: let me have the heart. I take it, and my followers, back to Neverland and save the island. You, meanwhile, can go back to the Enchanted Forest with Belle and Bae; rule the entire land as you see fit," Pan breathed, "Consider it, Laddie. You will be the most powerful being in that realm, and you can start over with your son."

"And Henry?" the Dark One inquired.

"You know what will happen when I take his heart."

"But Bae-"

"What you need to do, Laddie, is think of yourself. If I take the heart, Henry won't be a problem anymore. With him dead, you'll never have to worry about that nasty little prophecy. And if Baelfire sees you try so hard to save him from me- but regrettably fail, of course -he won't blame you," Pan pointed out, "After all, I'd be the one that killed him. You and I could put on quite the show for Bae; he'd never know you helped in your grandson's demise."

"How can you promise that?" Rumplestiltskin demanded. Although he hated to admit it, Pan's proposition was tempting. He would be incredibly powerful, and Belle and Bae would be with him. They'd all be safe, forever. It was like a dream- to go home to the Enchanted Forest, rule the land, have those he loved by his side. To never have to worry about losing his power to a child. But that same child meant so much to Bae...he grimaced.

Peter, recognizing Rumple's dilemma, reminded him, "I defied death. I cross realms- you know I do. You think I can't open the way for you and yours? All it takes is me- and a bit of pixie dust, of course," he amended. It was critical for Rumple to believe him. He had to. While it was true he could still win if Rumple tried to fight him, it would make things infinitely...messier. And he knew Wendy didn't like things to be messy.

"What do you say, Laddie?" Pan asked, hoping to get an answer now, though he knew he most likely wouldn't. Just as he'd predicted, Rumplestiltskin replied:

"I'll need time to think about it."

"You always did," Pan winked, "Let me know what you decide. You have a week." He walked towards the door to the shop. He kicked it open, the bell chiming over his head. Peter was halfway out the door, but abruptly, he paused:

"Before I go, let me remind you what you've got here: a limp, a pawn shop, a son who still has trouble looking at you, and a potential threat to your life. How the Dark One has fallen! But you can rise again. If you stay out of my way."

Then he was gone, the door slamming shut after him.

Pan entered the foyer of Regina's old house- his new base. Immediately, boys ran to him, calling enthusiastic greetings to him. He grinned, acknowledging each of them- including the new ones -by name. Still, ever alert to his surroundings, he noticed two familiar faces lurking in the shadows by the stairs. Pan nodded to them, then indicated that they should enter what had been Regina's office. Apprehensively, the boys did so.

As soon as the doors had closed behind them, Pan began without preamble:

"Slightly. Nibs. Is there anything you would like to share?" The teenager could guess what they were going to tell him. In fact, he'd known it for nearly a day, but it was important for the boys to admit it themselves. It was the last sign he needed to know they were absolutely loyal to him. This kind of honesty would ensure they could never revert to the side of Storybrooke's residents, because what they were about to say could get them locked up for life.

"Peter-" Slightly bit his lip, "First, before anything, I want you to know that I told Nibs. About your offer."

This had been obvious to Peter, and precisely what he'd intended Slightly to do, but he didn't let on:

"I didn't extend that invitation to Nibs, Slightly," he noted, playing with the dagger at his belt, "nor did I command you to." Although Pan had wanted Slightly to persuade Nibs to return to the fold, he still needed to emphasize the importance of obeying him. He wouldn't allow for rebellion any longer- last time, he'd almost died because of it.

"I know, Peter," Slightly replied, wringing his hands in his shirt, "but I know you want those of us who are loyal to you, and you gave me, an old friend, a chance to prove myself. You've known Nibs almost as long...and I thought you'd give him that chance to." He looked up at his leader hopefully, praying he wasn't wrong. He didn't think he was- the Peter he had known and bonded with so long ago valued friendship above all else. He valued it so much he came back to this world to save friends who'd fallen on hard times, Slightly included. Whatever had happened, however much Peter had changed, Slightly felt, deep in his bones, that this integral part of Peter yet remained.

Pan said nothing for a long moment, then asked, "And what, exactly, did you two do?" He looked from one boy to the other, curious which would reveal it first.

Nibs took a deep breath, "We killed Tootles." He closed his eyes, obviously trying to block out the shocked face of their friend as he'd drawn his knife.

"What are you doing?" Tootles' eyes were bright with fear. Nibs said nothing, heart pounding. Instead, he approached Tootles slowly, struggling to keep his hand from trembling. "Tootles-" he began, but the words died in his throat. Slightly appeared from the darkness beneath the bleachers, thin wire suspended between his hands. Tootles, noticing where Nibs was looking, spun around to see Slightly closing in. He went to run away, but Slightly stopped him with a swift kick to the knees. Popcorn flew to the ground, the box Tootles had been holding tumbling into the dirt. Kernels crunched beneath his knees, the sound a disquieting reminder of cracking bones. Felix loved the sound, but Nibs had always hated it. He liked fighting, and even occasionally death, but he preferred it to be quick, swift, and neat. Blood, if any debris left behind, but usually there wasn't (his aim, both with a slingshot and with bow and arrow, was excellent). His prey died immediately. This- with a knife (the only weapon he'd been able to acquire and hide in this world) -and his friend...it would be different. He shivered.

"You said we were going to watch the football game!" Tootles said plaintively. He cast an accusing glare at Nibs, though beneath the accusation there was also a healthy dose of betrayal and pure, unadulterated terror. Nevertheless, like any animal frightened for its life, Tootles fought back. He moved to the side, desperate to get to his feet, but this time Nibs found it was him who tackled Tootles back to the ground. His conscience screaming in his ears, Nibs drove Tootles into the shadows, where no one would see where that they would about to do, and no one would hear Tootles cries. The sounds would blend in with the raucous cheers of the crowd. It was a brilliant plan, actually, one that Peter no doubt would have been proud of- would be proud of.

"I said," Slightly huffed, trying to get a grip on Tootles, "that Pan offered us a truce-"

"-if we all murdered people!" Tootles replied. He rolled back and forth, bucking upwards. One of his fists made contact with Nibs' chin, and stunned, the other Lost Boy staggered backwards. Tootles took advantage of the opening to stand up, reminding them:

"And do you honestly think that will last? You trust him, after what he did to James? And Robert? We were supposed to be a family! You don't kill family!"

"That's what they tried to do, Tootles," Slightly pointed out, "They tried to kill Pan." His face was grave. Admittedly, First and Second Twin hadn't actually done the deed themselves, but in a way, that made it worse. Pan had plucked them from horrible lives and granted them eternity, and they couldn't even give him the courtesy of death face-to-face.

"After Pan tried to kill Henry! After he'd already hurt so many people!" Tootles contended, hoping against hope for his friends to see the truth in his statement. Wildly, he glanced back and forth at Slightly and Nibs, waiting for them to put their weapons down.

"They broke the rules," Nibs said numbly, the words hardly convincing even to his own ears, "and they suffered the consequences. Pan gave us a second chance, and you said no."

"I said I trusted Emma more. I said that they beat him once, and I think they can beat him again. And you- you agreed," at once, Tootles's eyes widened again as he realized the awful truth, "You- you lied."

"Yes," Slightly confirmed. He sounded shameless, though Nibs knew that deep down, he had to feel as terrible as Nibs did. Slightly was a superb actor, but he also had a strict moral compass.

"And I'm the one you decided to kill," Tootles said it as though it were fact. He wasn't searching for a corroboration. He knew it, and he understood. Slightly and Nibs had been testing him earlier, trying to measure his fidelity to Pan. He'd failed, immensely, and now he was going to pay the price for their absolution in blood.

"Yes," Slightly said again, the word hanging in the air.

At that, Tootles bolted. Adrenaline, hatred, need, and revulsion surging through his veins together, like some heady elixir, Nibs ran after him. He threw himself on the boy, pinning Tootles down and holding his hands in front of him. Tootles couldn't get away from them; this was their one chance. If Tootles escaped, he would jeopardize everything. Pan would likely murder them himself if they failed.

"Don't do this, please, you're-" Tootles pleaded, but whatever he had been about to say morphed into a gasp. Slightly lunged behind him, throwing the wire around his throat and yanking tightly. The garrotte, though homemade, was effective. The light quickly faded from the former Lost Boy's eyes, some blood splashing Nibs in the face. The body became heavy and slack in his arms, and Nibs struggled to think of it as just another kill; it was faceless, nameless, he hadn't known him, not at all-

Just then, the field was plunged into darkness. That was the signal.

"Come on," Slightly urged him, "We've only got a minute before they figure out Curly tripped the lights-"

The two boys lifted Tootles' limp body and ran through the blackness, out from beneath the bleachers and onto the field. Hurriedly, they tossed it into the grass. There was a sickening plop as it landed sideways, finally rolling to land facedown. The sight would have made Nibs vomit, but he didn't have a long time to stare. Slightly practically dragged him off the field and into the woods as the lights switched back on and screams replaced cheers.

In the safety of the trees just beyond the field, Slightly and Nibs let the blood run off their hands into the river. Both boys were silent for a long while.

At last, Nibs said, "Do you regret it? I feel awful." He was hoping for some kind of comfort, though he didn't know what Slightly could say that could possibly make him feel better.

"We'd both feel worse if Pan had killed us instead. It was a choice, and we chose ourselves and Pan," Slightly said emphatically. He refused to meet Nibs' tortured eyes. If he did, his own guilt would surface, and he couldn't afford that.

"What does that make us?" Nib asked. His own mind supplied a word: Murderers. Yet, as he faced his friend, Slightly only smiled sadly and declared:

"Lost Boys."

"You thought Tootles was a threat?" Peter pretended to scoff. He was curious how Slightly and Nibs had rationalized their choice, though he did agree that Tootles' death had been a necessary one. He would have sold them out to the Storybrooke residents immediately, and Pan couldn't have that. He had to save Neverland, and no one would stop him, let alone one incompetent Lost Boy.

"He wasn't at first. Hear us out," Slightly entreated him, "I know you, Pan. You taught us brotherhood above all. You made us a family. We all know you want to create that family again. So, when you offered me the chance to prove myself, I wanted our brothers to have it too. I told them what you asked, Pan. Nibs, Curly, Gavin, and Fox agreed. Tootles didn't. So, Nibs and I killed him. Gavin, Curly, and Fox are all here. They say they'll strike down whomever you ask," Slightly swallowed.

"Curly already helped," Nibs added, "We want your forgiveness, Peter. We want to be Lost Boys again."

"We'll do anything," Slightly agreed.

Pan crossed his arms, gaze inscrutable. He kept his face neutral just long enough to make them squirm. Then, he flashed a huge smile at them:

"And that is why I chose you."

The two Lost Boys let out a sigh of relief as they realized that they would live.

As the Shadow flew her to Neverland's shores, Wendy held on tightly. She wouldn't fall into the ocean this time- after the way they'd parted, she doubted Peter would save her. After all, it had been just a game. Even now, her heart constricted at the words.

Just a game.

Just a game.

Just a game.

Well, maybe she had been a game to Peter Pan, but what he'd done when he'd taken Baelfire from her wasn't. Bae had become a part of her family, dear to her, and he'd sacrificed himself to protect her and her brothers. He'd shown her the kindness and protection Peter never had, because it was kindness that was real. She wouldn't let Bae- who had proven himself to be her true white knight -bear the penalty for her stupidity.

Shaking her head, Wendy kept her eyes on the approaching shoreline. She squinted, puzzled. Had the Shadow even brought her to the right realm? Neverland was a jungle, teeming with heat and flowers and palms touching the sky, the roars of great cats and the buzzing of a hundred insects creating a constant symphony. Yet this land- this land was nothing like Neverland. It was cold, for one. White mist shrouded the island, and the sea, instead of being a crystalline blue, was a steely gray. Pines were where palms should have stood, the flowers were gone, and the only sounds- aside from the whistle of the wind -were the occasional cries of hawks overhead.

"Wait-" Wendy said, but the Shadow had already released her. It disappeared into the trees, and she shrieked as she was slammed violently into the ground. She grimaced as gritty sand found its way under her fingernails, then saw the telltale streaks of blood on her elbow and knee. She'd cut herself on a rock. Silently, she cursed- though a lady should never curse -because this would ruin her plan to find Bae and make a run for it. It hurt enough that she doubted she could walk without a limp, and besides, without proper binding, she'd leave a trail of blood that would be easy for the Lost Boys to follow.

Pan would find her, no matter what.

"Wendy!?"

The girl looked up from the sand to see Rufio gaping at her. He was astonished by her appearance, and she was just as shocked at his. He was thinner than she remembered, his cheekbones more prominent. Yet at the same time, he was more muscled, as though he'd had to fight more than before. He wore different clothes as well- instead of the flamboyant red of which he'd been so fond, he now wore a darker ensemble, capped off by a black cloak.

Staring at him, Wendy felt as though she had been dropped into an alternate reality. It was Rufio- undeniably Rufio -but if this was Rufio...

"What happened?" Wendy asked, "Rufio, what happened here?"

The Lost Boy- her favorite, aside from Tootles -did not even bend to help her up, as he once would have done immediately. Instead, he looked up nervously, then whispered:

"You shouldn't be here."

"What?" the girl's forehead furrowed in confusion.

"You shouldn't have come back," Rufio insisted.

"I don't plan on staying," Wendy replied, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Her instincts told her something wasn't right, and that she needed to get out. Now.

"I don't think you'll have much choice in the matter," a familiar voice said. Peter landed gracefully before her, so Rufio was blocked from her view. He smiled at her, but there was no warmth in it:

"Hello, Bird."

"Peter," Wendy said, putting as much venom into her voice as she could, "Don't worry. I'm not going to play a game this time. I just want Bae back." She intended to spend as little time in Peter's presence as possible. Her heart still ached from the wounds he'd inflicted upon it.

At once, Pan's green eyes narrowed into slits, "Bae isn't going anywhere. And neither are you, Wendy."

"Peter, I'm not playing another game-"

"But you are, Wendy. You came back. And now the game is never going to end."

The smirk that accompanied Pan's sinister promise made Wendy's skin crawl. Peter, however, was apparently unaffected by the situation. He reached for her and pulled her to her feet. Despite herself, Wendy stumbled. Peter raised an eyebrow:

"Hurt your wing, Bird?" Wendy ignored the jab, then tried to shake his arm off her. He released her, but he stayed close enough to her to see her every movement. Peter noticed the vein at her neck was pulsing wildly. She was nervous- angry, but nervous. The changes in Neverland had disconcerted her, and she was, mystified, yet terrified by, his vow of a never-ending game.

Good, Peter thought, a jolt of pleasure rushing through him. She should be nervous.

"I'm not going with you," Wendy announced, as if she had any control over it. Peter resisted the urge to laugh. Instead, he inquired, his voice filled with mocking concern:

"But don't you want to see Bae? He's a Lost Boy now."

Wendy's eyes widened, "No. Never. Bae's not lost-"

"He's always been lost," Felix drawled, melting out of the trees, "He was born lost. You could say it runs in the family." He grinned, and Peter let out a dark chuckle. Wendy had the discomfiting sense that there was a joke that she wasn't privy to. She cast a glance at Rufio, but he said nothing. Why wasn't he saying anything? He was Pan's second, not Felix. Unless that had changed too? But how? Why?

"What happened to Neverland?" Wendy asked again, this time resolved to get an answer. Rufio shot her a warning glance, shaking his head, but Felix's smirk grew bigger. Pan raised an eyebrow again, and he explained:

"You happened, Wendy. You changed the game when you arrived, don't you remember? And then the game changed when you left." He gestured to the forest around them, and involuntarily, Wendy shivered. Did he really mean that? Was she the cause of the startling, chilling, drastic changes to the land she'd loved? Was it still the land of children's dreams now, or had she made it into a land of nightmares?

"It's not...right like this. You should change it back," she retorted, desperate to gain any leverage she could. Pan despised it when anyone insulted his creation.

Peter smirked, "But I am changing it back. You're here now, and you're never leaving again." With that, he began to stride into the forest. Wendy stayed where she was, adamant that she would not follow.

Felix glanced sideways at her and said, "It would be wise of you to start walking, Wendy. Unless you'd like to go swimming to camp?"

The Lost Boys' camp moved around the island periodically. They did it mostly to stay out of range of the pirates and the Indians. While they had a few preferred spots, it was never in the same place for more than a day- sometimes even for more than an hour. Wendy didn't recall them ever camping by the Mermaids' Lagoon, but since things seemed so strange, maybe they did now. At the mention of her longtime fear, and the alarming possibility that she'd be reunited with bloodthirsty mermaids so soon, Wendy's face grew white.

Felix laughed at her reaction, "I didn't think you would. Now, walk." He waited, but Wendy stood stock still. Even had she wanted to, she couldn't walk comfortably. And if Peter was determined to parade her back into camp like some sort of victory prize, she was determined to enter regally and with grace. She couldn't do that with her injuries.

His grin fading at her defiance, Felix narrowed his eyes. He flicked his hand towards Rufio. Obediently, the Lost Boy came forward. He gently took one of Wendy's arms and laid it over his shoulder, then used his other arm to support her waist.

Realizing that something was deathly wrong if Rufio was obeying Felix without any of his trademark rebelliousness, Wendy swallowed the lump in her throat and allowed him to help her walk in what must have been the direction of camp. Felix, apparently satisfied at their progress, moved ahead to walk directly behind Pan.

Hoping he was out of earshot, Wendy whispered, "Rufio, please, tell me. What happened?"

"Exactly what Pan said," Rufio whispered back, "When you left, everything changed. The land changed. The Lost Boys changed. Peter changed..." he trailed off. Rufio bit his lip, as if he wanted to say more, but dared not.

"Are you really so afraid to tell me?" the girl asked.

Rufio paused. After a moment he murmured, "Yes."

Author's Note:

*dun dun dun* Now we have some more context for what happened to Tootles, and a hint of just how much power Pan wields over the Lost Boys. I will try to get the next chapter up soon! Hope you all liked it; please tell me what you think :)

~ladykikyo1792