( 002. ) Paint

Henry, Felix, and Peter are given the empty room above the pawn shop to prepare, and some paint to do the job. What could go wrong?


"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" Belle asked with a raised eyebrow.

She stared at the three boys scattered around the small attic room above the pawn shop with uncertainty. Her gaze lingered longer on the smirk Peter was wearing on his face, and the barely concealed grin Henry was wearing on his face. She knew exactly how difficult it had been to convince Emma to let her son aid Peter and Felix in the preparation of the immortal teen's new room; apparently, not even getting kidnapped by Pan could turn off Henry's natural habit of liking people. He'd already forgiven Pan for taking him to Neverland a long time ago – though Belle had a suspicion that it hadn't been that hard. Even though he'd been taken against his will, Henry certainly hadn't seemed miserable or upset when they'd stormed the Lost Boy's camp. And he certainly hadn't been furious or terrified of his captors. It was strange, but it was true at the same time.

Currently, Henry shook his head in response to her question. "I think we'll be okay," he said confidently as he already began opening cans of dark brown and dark green paint.

"Yes, Teacup, try not to fret," Peter added from where he was perched on the tiny windowsill, grinning at her. "I assure you I won't kill Henry as soon as your back is turned."

Belle felt a frown form on her face as Henry turned around and shook his head at the immortal teen. "Now, why would you say that?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Do you want everyone to not trust you here?"

"Well, it's not like I want to be in this tack point of a town anyway."

She was rather used to Peter Pan's irritating habits by now, so as soon as she realized Peter really wasn't going to be doing any harm to Henry, she relaxed, and took time to study Felix. The seventeen-year-old Lost Boy had been simply standing in one corner of the room ever since he'd arrived, and he hadn't spoken a single word. He was definitely a quiet one; and Belle wondered if that had something to do with the fact that every other Lost Boy had ended up leaving Storybrooke (after begging Regina to erase their memories) to go live with foster families. And with one or two, their original families to begin with. Belle knew Peter had taken that news with anger and concealed hurt, but she hadn't seen Felix's reaction.

"So… you're all okay up here?" she asked one last time, sweeping her gaze over the paint cans, the brushes, and the sheets covering most of the floor and simple furniture. "I can just stay and watch if that works…"

The deadpanned look Peter shot her told her that was not an option. She really couldn't blame him; he'd spent the last several days being escorted and supervised everywhere. Now that he finally had a breath of freedom, Belle could understand why he wanted to take it all in before Gold or Regina or Emma took it away again.

So she turned and left the three boys in the attic, and when she heard someone shut the door after she left, she did her best not to go back up the stairs and request they lead it open. Peter doesn't have his magic anymore, she reminded herself. Henry insists he wants to do this with them, and Felix… really doesn't do anything at all. They're fine. Perfectly fine. It wasn't that Belle was afraid Peter would try something; it was if something happened that led to Emma or one of the other's wrath. They would have reason to put Peter back in the jail; and Belle wasn't exactly keen on seeing that happen.

So she settled herself down at the desk of the pawn shop and began taking inventory. For nearly an hour, all was quiet.

Then… it wasn't.

Belle stifled a curse as she heard an extremely loud thump come from upstairs, following by a short wave of cries and laughter before the noise was muffled suddenly. She thrust the door open, expecting paint to cover the floor or furniture to be knocked over.

She wasn't ready to see Felix carrying Henry, who was absolutely covered in green paint, while Peter watched everything from on top of the bookcase.

"What are you doing?!"

Felix dropped Henry to the ground heavily, causing the boy to groan as he came into contact with the hard floor. Peter jumped off of the bookcase and crossed his arms, waggling his eyebrows. "Don't get all worked up, Teacup," he said easily. "Henry here just lost a little bet, that's all."

She couldn't believe how they even had enough paint to absolutely lather Henry in it. "What bet? I thought you all said you could do this by yourselves!"

"It's okay, really," Henry spoke up, green goo oozing down his face. "I lost fair and square. I bet that Felix could drink a mouthful of paint, and he could…"

"What…?"

"…so I told him that I'd be a paintbrush."

What was it about boys that could make them so stupid? Especially these boys? Belle cast a glance at Peter, who was leaning against the doorway whistling without a spot of paint on him, and figured It out herself. "You put them up to this, didn't you?" she accused. "What is Emma going to say when I tell her Henry was being used as a paintbrush?"

"She should thank me, as should you," Peter replied with a grin. "I helped Henry discover his creative side. He would've continued to be boring if I hadn't. Besides, he was a paintbrush this time, not a Lost Boy, god there is no pleasing you imbeciles..."

Henry frowned at that, while Felix's lips curled into a small smile.

"Henry, go shower," she demanded. "There's a bathroom midway down the staircase, go down the tiny hall. One door is my bedroom, and across from that is the bathroom. Please go get cleaned up." She looked around the room, and noticed two of the four walls were already complete, most likely with the Henry-brush. "You two… maybe you should take a break. Do you want a snack?"

Peter merely rolled his eyes as Henry left the room. "You still owe Felix one!" he called after him, to which Belle looked at Felix. "Should I call poison control or something? Did you really drink paint?"

"Felix has handled far worse than paint, Teacup," Peter said as he pat his friend on the back, to which that half-smile appeared again from the older boy. It seemed only Peter could ever get a response from him.

Shooting them both one last scowl, Belle turned and headed back down to make sandwiches before her nausea could grow any worse. Behind her, she heard Peter call, "This would be much, much easier if I had my magic!", to which she had to reply with a firm, "No."

She was bringing up the snacks when she heard a splashing sound coming from the attic. She nearly dropped the tray in surprise, and set it quickly at the top of the stairs before rushing into the room.

Of course. Of course Peter had somehow managed to find balloons – why were there balloons in the pawn shop? – and of course he just had to fill them with paint. She had to jump out of the way to avoid being splattered as the teen hurled another filled balloon at Felix, who was pressed against the wall in a strange pose. The brown splattered all over the dark green of the walls, and soaked Felix right through. Unbelievable.

She rushed over before Peter could throw another balloon, and grabbed the bucket of balloons from him. "You both are unbelievable. Now Felix is coated in paint."

Peter smiled cheekily. "Least he didn't eat it this time."

Now she could understand why Emma felt so frustrated with this boy. "Felix, go shower then go downstairs with Henry in the pawn shop," she called over her shoulder. "And don't touch anything. I'll be right there." Felix, of course, didn't move until he'd gotten a nod from his leader; only then did he begin to exit the room.

She turned back to Peter to find him grinning more than ever. She looked back over to Felix, who'd paused in the doorway looking amused; and she turned around once more to find Peter had backed up a few paces and was preparing to pitch one last balloon. "Felix, catch!"

"Don't you dare…!"

Belle wasn't sure how she hadn't heard the front door open, or the steps come up the staircase, or the familiar voice calling her name. She wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed at all, because in that moment, she was too busy watching Felix dive out of the way of Peter's paint-filled-projectile, which sailed right through the doorway.

And proceeded to hit the man who'd just walked up the stairs looking for her.

Perfect silence. It was a rare thing, but it happened now. The only thing that broke it really was Felix's whispered profanity, and her own horror. She snuck a glance at Pan, and found that even though he was chuckling, he had the decency to wince.

Gold glared at them all beneath the mask of brown paint, and as he stalked into the room, Belle noticed a flash of the Dark One cross his face as he slowly shook his head at the two teen boys. "Out. Now," he ground out; right before he flicked his wrist and used magic to send Felix sailing right out the open window. Peter's smile disappeared completely, replaced with a flicker of rage as Belle gaped.

"Rumple!"

"Relax," Gold cut them both off with a small sigh, eyeing Peter as he saw the teen had prepared to hurl the nearest object at him even without his magic. "He'll land safely outside, than go back to the diner." A brief pause as he looked from Belle to Peter. "You…" he pointed to the latter. "Clean this up immediately. Belle, I think we need to speak."

Which meant he once more wanted to know why they were allowing this mischief boy demon live in their home, most likely. It happened every time Gold laid eyes on Pan, so Belle was prepared. She exited the room, making sure not to step in any puddles of paint, and they decided that they could talk while driving Henry to Regina's. While the room decorating had obviously been a bad idea, in the few days he'd been here Pan had not once messed with the pawn shop; so Gold reluctantly agreed the teen could survive less than an hour in the place alone and left to bring Henry home.

"Henry?"

"Yeah?"

"Your skin is tinted green."

Belle shook her head. "Don't even ask."


She opened the door hesitantly, only bothering to enter because she wanted to see if Pan really had cleaned up the disaster he had made earlier or if he'd chosen to completely ignore Gold. She was surprised to see that everything had indeed been cleaned, the floor wiped up, the sheets removed from the furniture. The bed was missing, replaced by a black hammock, and somehow, a few green plastic ferns were scattered in the corners. She recognized them from Granny's diner, and decided Felix must've brought them over, along with the hammock. She stepped further inside, and found herself looking at the dark green walls with brown molding. And then she saw the brown flames stenciled on one wall, and the outline of Felix and Henry splattered on the opposite wall several times over, the silhouettes dancing around another small batch of flames. She realized it was a scene Gold had described of the Lost Boy's camp, and then she took in the room fully for what Peter had created it to be.

It was Neverland.

"I don't appreciate invasions of privacy, y' know."

She jumped a bit at the sudden voice, and turned to see Peter leaning against the doorway, watching her solemnly. She knew what Gold would say, that this was his house and Peter was here more for supervision than hospitality; but she wasn't Gold. "I'm sorry," she apologized as she stepped out of the room. "I just wanted to make sure you were all set."

"And make sure I hadn't flooded the attic with colors no doubt," he added simply, pulling himself onto the hammock and then just lying there lazily. "Please tell me that your beloved Rumple isn't still ruffled by earlier."

She shook her head no; she'd managed to calm him down in the car. A beat of silence passed awkwardly before she stepped fully out of the doorway and grabbed the knob. "Well… goodnight," she said quietly, and shut the door.

It surprised her a bit when, after the door was shut, she heard him repeat the sentiment. A bit, but not much.

It surprised her once more when she laid down on her bed, and felt her pillow explode in an eruption of paint.

A bit.

But not much.