A/N: We had so much fun reading all of your responses to the last chapter! Thank you for your continuing support. :)
Disclaimer: We do not own Once Upon a Time or Peter Pan. May credit be given where credit is due.
~Chapter XVI~
Shock silenced any words Rumplestiltskin might have said, stilled any movements he might have made. He let his eyes trace the captain's features, his brown shoulder-length curls, his strong jaw, the lines of hardship creasing his forehead.
It couldn't be... Swallowing hard, Rumplestiltskin frantically sifted through his jumbled thoughts for the one name he had feared he would never again use in the presence of its owner.
"Bae?"
Although his voice came out no louder than a whisper, Hook flinched as though he had been struck. His eyes flashed dangerously as he stepped backward, putting more distance between himself and his prisoner.
"Don't dare call me that!" He snapped, and for a moment Rumplestiltskin was certain he saw a flicker of fear alongside the fury in his compeller's eyes.
Rumplestiltskin stepped closer, opening his mouth to speak, but he was suddenly cut off by the harsh notes of a rooster's crow echoing high above.
Hook's eyes glinted with malicious glee at the sound; a deep chuckle resounded in his chest. Dread and unease settled like an anvil in Rumplestiltskin's stomach at the captain's sudden change in behavior.
"Perfect," Hook murmured covetously, grabbing his coat and turning on his heel to sprint out of the cabin. Rumplestiltskin hesitated, before forcing his legs to follow the man who claimed to be his son. Too many questions and fears and doubts clashed madly in his mind to remain in the cabin.
The sun was completely above the horizon, its harsh light momentarily blinding Rumplestitlskin as he clambered after his compeller, who now stood with his gaze fixed on some point in the sky. Rumplestiltskin's own eyes followed the direction of Hook's gaze, alighting on what appeared to be the silhouette of a boy hovering behind the ships billowing gray sails.
"Peter Pan," Hook called out, his voice tinted with dark satisfaction; Rumplestiltskin's insides twisted with dread at the sound of the name of the child he was intended to kill.
"How fortunate that you should come to me today," Hook continued loudly. "You've just saved me a lot of trouble," he added, throwing a wicked smirk in Rumplestiltskin's direction.
"It's been too long since I last visited my favorite codfish," an exhilarated, youthful voice shouted from the flying shadow. Hook's lips curled back in a snarl at the boy's taunting words and he turned to face his prisoner. Rumplestiltskin took an involuntary step back at the bloodlust glinting in the captain's black eyes.
Hook pulled the left lapel of his jacket to the side, reaching a hand inside to grasp the dagger resting in the breast pocket Rumplestitlskin had not checked. Rumplestiltskin's eyes widened, incredulity and frustration whirling in their depths.
"Oh yes, you came very close to getting exactly what you wanted," the captain scoffed, leering at his prisoner's expression. He returned his attention to the boy hovering high above, his fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger.
"Kill—" Hook started to command, but a sharp clang and the sound of rope scraping against the starboard gunwale cut him off. He whirled around to face the source of the noise, his face twisting in rage as he realized the insolent boy had swooped down and severed the ties fastening the anchor to the Jolly Roger.
Soaring up to the ship's crow's next, Peter Pan laughed loudly at the pirates scurrying about the deck to try to catch the end of the rope before it slipped into the ocean. The rope uncoiled wildly as the anchor plunged deeper and deeper into the ocean, and suddenly Rumplestiltskin knew what was going to happen.
As the last thick length of the braided rope whipped across the deck, it wound itself about the right leg of the ship's captain. With a loud crash, Hook was upended, his back slamming against the deck. The sinking anchor yanked him toward the gunwale. Arms flailing, the captain embedded his hook in the wood of the deck, trying to keep himself from falling overboard. The attempt failed, and the rope dragged him over the ship's starboard gunwale and into the water with a great splash.
"Man overboard!" A burly pirate yelled as several more of Hook's men raced over to the ship's side to peer into the water. Their eyes scanned the surface for any sign of their captain. Some of them pulled flintlock pistols from beneath their vests, glaring against the sun as they aimed them at the boy flying overhead.
Rumplestiltskin threw off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, his pulse thrumming with adrenaline. He ran over to the starboard gunwale, leaping to stand atop it. Even if this man was not his son, he still had the dagger.
Fixing his gaze on the site where Hook went under, Rumplestiltskin dove.
The cold water engulfed him like a pit of razorblades, momentarily paralyzing his muscles as his eyes frantically searched for the captain. Regaining control of his limbs, Rumplestiltskin propelled himself deeper into the sea. He gazed into the murky depths that seemed to stretch for miles, their soft turquoise melting into a deep indigo. A flash of silver suddenly caught his eye.
Swimming sluggishly up from the depths of the ocean was Hook, his eyes dazed from lack of oxygen. The few tendrils of rope clinging to the man's hook indicated that he had managed to cut himself free. As Rumplestiltskin watched, the man's movements slowed even further, a small cloud of blood seeping from a wound on his temple.
Rumplestiltskin swam over to him, reaching out a hand to clasp the front of his compeller's-his son's?-shirt. A look of shock flashed across Hook's features as his prisoner yanked him closer, looping an arm around his chest and kicking for the surface.
Spots of white light flashed before Rumplestiltskin's eyes as he swam for the surface. Hook kicked weakly, trying to help even as the last bubbles of air slipped past his lips.
When they finally broke the surface, a chorus of yells from the Jolly Roger's crew met their ears. One of the pirates tossed a rope into the water for them to grab. Rumplestiltskin sucked in huge gasps of air, wrapping a fist around the rope as Hook coughed and sputtered beside him. As the pirates pulled them to the side of the ship, they dropped several more ropes into the water. Rumplestiltskin tied one beneath his arms, grasping Hook's collar to hold him steady as the captain did the same.
The crew heaved them up and over the ship's gunwale. They landed gracelessly on the deck, lying in place as they struggled to catch their breath. Hook continued to cough, gagging as he expelled the saltwater he had swallowed and inhaled. Rumplestiltskin pulled himself to a sitting position, leaning heavily against the mast of one of the ship's sail. Wiping his mouth and breathing heavily, Hook lifted himself slightly off the deck, leaning on his elbow. He looked over at Rumplestiltskin, surprise and confusion creasing his forehead.
They met each other's gaze, staring silently and ignoring the shouts and questions of the pirates surrounding them.
Peter stared down at the scene unfolding on the Jolly Roger's deck, his eyes wide with incredulity. He had enacted the perfect plan to distract the pirates long enough to swoop down and rescue Belle's companion. It was even better that the rope had managed to snag Hook and pull him overboard. He had been certain his efforts would be successful.
But then the man dove in after Hook. Peter had not been able to stifle a shout of disbelief when the two broke the surface a couple minutes later, gasping and clutching onto each other.
Now, they sat on the deck as though they were a couple of old chums. Peter's lips bent in a frown, his brow furrowing as he continued to peer from behind one of the ship's sails. He watched Belle's friend for a moment longer. Maybe he had misunderstood; maybe he had rescued Hook so that he could finish him off himself.
The two continued to stare at each other, not moving except to occasionally cough. Peter shook his head, not believing what he was witnessing.
The harsh bang of a shot pierced the air and Peter ducked. A small hole appeared in the cloth of the sail precisely where his head had been. With one last quick glance at the ship's deck, Peter leapt from his hiding place and soared in the direction of the island.
Anger and disbelief roiled within the boy's chest. He dreaded the look Belle would wear when he revealed the terrible news. As he neared the shore, his shadow gliding over the glistening blue water, he let out a frustrated yell.
Belle's friend was a pirate.
Belle leaned against the windowsill of the Drey's main cabin, her cobalt eyes anxiously watching the skies for any sign of Peter. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, her fingers fidgeting with one of her russet curls. Even shouts and laughs of the Lost Boys playing tag below could not dilute the fear snaking through her veins like ice.
"You should sit down," a soft voice said from above her right shoulder. Belle jumped slightly, turning her head and taking in the appearance of the fairy who had accompanied her back to the Drey.
Aibreann wore a fitting, knee-length dress that glittered in the sunlight as though it were sewn from polished emeralds. The bell sleeves hung flatteringly off of her pale shoulders like two tiny leaves. Long, caramel curls cascaded down her back, covering almost the entire length of her wings when she folded them down. She was strikingly beautiful, her cheekbones defined and her eyes possessing a warmth that gave Belle a sense of comfort despite the harrowing thoughts whirling madly in her mind.
"You look close to fainting," Aibreann murmured, perching on Belle's outstretched hand and gazing concernedly up at the woman.
Belle shrugged one of her shoulders, her forehead creasing in worry as she turned her gaze once more out the window.
"He will come back," Aibreann assured her, smiling softly when Belle looked down at her. The fairy crossed her legs, leaning back to better survey her new friend. The journey back to the Lost Boys' tree house had taken no more than an hour, and yet she felt as though she had known Belle for years. They had spoken the entire way, swapping their favorite tales and laughing over the rambunctious Lost Boys' adventures. Belle seemed to positively glow when she smiled, even as her eyes still held traces of apprehension. She was delightful company, and Aibreann could not help but feel drawn to her.
"Peter's confronted Hook more times than I can count," the fairy continued, her lips bending in a small frown not unlike that a sibling would wear when speaking about an unruly, but loved younger brother. "He does not always return unscathed," she shook her head slightly, "But he always returns."
Belle sighed lightly, but smiled appreciatively at the fairy sitting in her palm. She doubted anything Aibreann could say would quell the unease coiling like a venomous snake in her chest, but she was glad she did not have to wait alone. Her gaze slid back over to the open window, the tentative smile fading from her lips.
Suddenly, a sharp cry floated out of Belle's throat as she leaned farther out of the window, one hand raised to shield her eyes against the mid-morning sun.
There, flying just above the towering treetops in the distance, was the slim form of Peter. Belle felt her heart begin to race as he neared, a smile slowly returning to her lips.
When the boy hovered several meters from the tree house cabin, Belle's smile vanished.
He was alone.
A wave of terror washed over Belle as her eyes took in the forlorn expression on the boy's face. She swayed slightly, bracing her arms against the windowsill as her mind juggled thoughts of all the horrible ways their plan might have gone.
Peter flew up to the window, slowly climbing through it and standing before Belle. Belle felt the color drain from her face as he said nothing, staring silently at her.
"Why—W-where—" Belle stuttered, unable to find the words to ask the thousands of questions hurtling themselves against the front of her mind.
"He's a traitor," Peter said solemnly, his lips set in a hard line. Belle's brow crinkled in confusion; she shook her head, trying to register what the boy said. Aibreann hovered in the air beside her, her brown eyes fixed on the boy standing before them.
"What do you mean?" Belle finally asked, her voice slightly breathy as she tried to calm her pounding heart.
"I cut the rope to the Jolly Roger's anchor to distract the pirates and save him. Hook got caught in the rope and fell overboard."
Aibreann gasped, her eyes widening. Belle merely stared at him, her hands clasping and unclasping before her.
"Your friend dove in after him," Peter explained, frustration and disbelief evident in his clipped tone.
"He saved Hook?" Aibreann asked incredulously, her eyebrows raising in surprise as Peter nodded. She turned her gaze to Belle, waiting for her to explain why in the world her imprisoned lover would rescue his captor.
"And then they sat there on the deck. He didn't even try to escape," Peter said quietly, shaking his head.
"No, no, you must have misunderstood," Belle insisted, her voice raising slightly in desperation.
"I know what I saw, Belle," Peter responded adamantly, his eyes boring into hers, "Your friend is a pirate."
"He is not a pirate!" Belle exclaimed, frustration coloring her cheeks. "We need to go back," she added, her gaze darting between Aibreann and Peter.
"I'm not going back. I'm not going to help a traitor," the boy stated firmly, folding his arms across his chest.
"Peter, please. It must have been a misunderstanding. We have to—"
"Why? He's not good, Belle. No one who sides with Hook is. Don't you remember what he did to Scout, to the mermaids?" Peter cut her off, his voice raising as he pointed a finger at the carving of Scout on the wall.
"Of course I remember, Peter. But we can't just leave him as Hook's prisoner," Belle said beseechingly.
"He didn't look like a prisoner to me," Peter scoffed, crossing his arms once more.
"I have to go to him. I love him," Belle responded desperately, her eyes begging him to understand.
Peter turned around, running a hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck. He sighed heavily, looking down at his bare feet.
"I need him," Belle murmured to the boy's back.
Peter lifted his head at her words, turning around to face her as a small smile stretched his lips. His eyes shone with naive optimism.
"You don't need him, Tinker Belle. You can just stay here with us. We would never betray you, and I could keep you safe from Hook and his pirates." He reached out to grasp her hand, but Belle pulled it away, her throat constricting.
"Peter, please," Belle whispered, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.
Peter watched her sadly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Belle. I won't help a pirate."
Silence passed between them for a long moment, before the boy turned around, climbing onto the windowsill and soaring into the air toward his own cabin.
Belle watched him fly away, sighing and shaking her head at the boys' stubbornness. Backing up against the nearest wall, she slid down to the floor. Her throat tightened further as she sank her hands in her hair.
Why wouldn't he believe her?
A/N: Please review, dear readers!