A/N: Wow! Thank you all for your feedback! Words cannot describe how important your support is to us.
Disclaimer: We do not own Once Upon a Time or Peter Pan. May credit be given where credit is due.
~Chapter XXXVI~
The sun was lazily making its climb toward the horizon, chasing away the indigo night sky with rays of gold and pink. Flowers excitedly turned in its direction, petals stretching in anticipation of its warmth. Neverland's colorful finches slowly roused themselves from slumber, their soft, melodic chirps filling the twilight air. For the first time in centuries, peace seemed to reign over the island.
The Lost Boys slept soundly in their individual beds, their mouths curved in gentle smiles as their minds conjured dreams of adventure and hopeful, happy endings.
Without warning, the loud, jarring notes of a rooster's call pierced the air! Nearby birds took flight in their surprise and each Lost Boy jolted upright in his bed. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, eyes wide and lips slowly stretching into broad grins. Then, chaos was let loose as they all leapt from their beds, frantically rubbing the sleep out of their eyes as they scrambled over the catwalk and down the stairs. Tootles and Nibs darted out of the second cabin, nearly colliding with the older boys as they, too, rushed to find their adored leader.
When the boys reached the base of the vine staircase, they froze. Peter Pan stood meters from them, facing away with his arms crossed over the front of his autumn leaf tunic. Slowly, he turned around, his gaze stern and his lips pressed together in a hard line.
The Lost Boys' smiles wavered, twitching downward into nervous frowns. They had been so longing to have him back, had they all simply dreamt the rooster's crow?
They had all been forlornly preparing to turn and return to their makeshift beds, when they suddenly glimpsed the slightest twitch at the corners of Peter's scowl. In the next moment his façade melted away completely, leaving in its stead a wide smile that soon broke into a hearty laugh.
"Peter!" The Lost Boys cried simultaneously, joyously racing forward and enveloping Peter in a cheering crowd. Their questions rang out as they each grappled to hug their beloved friend, filling the air with a cacophonous din of how and why and what. Peter lifted Tootles onto his shoulders so that he would not get hurt amongst all the legs surrounding him, smiling as the tiny boy clapped his hands gaily.
Rumplestiltskin and Belle groggily descended the vine staircase, wearily passing their hands over their faces at the commotion below. When their eyes took in the celebratory scene, the way the boys' faces practically glowed with their unbridled joy, they could not hold back their own tender smiles. Two spheres of light—one green and one orange—suddenly alighted on a low-hanging branch, and the couple knew that the fairies were also sharing in the sweetness of the boys' reunion with their leader.
The brilliant sun crept over the horizon, its first golden ray filtering through the trees and reflecting off of the children's beaming faces. Rumplestiltskin watched as his son glanced at the rising star, before returning his attention to the Lost Boys, a mischievous smirk adorning his youthful face. Several of the boys laughed, while Pox and Slightly nudged each other with their elbows, smiling toothily.
"Do it again, Peter," Tootles exclaimed from his perch on the boy's shoulders, his cheeks dimpled with his grin.
"Yeah!" Curly chimed in, his hair flaming red in the bright sunlight. The other boys followed suit, each encouraging Baelfire to release another one of his infamous crows, while he feigned reluctance.
"All right, all right," the boy finally sighed, though the glint in his eyes indicated that he was not at all reluctant to fulfill his friends' request.
Rumplestiltskin glanced at Belle, mirroring her soft smile as they turned and watched Baelfire inhale a deep breath, tip his head back, and release, with as much gusto as he could possibly manage, his trademark rooster's crow.
The Lost Boys cheered exuberantly, once more engulfing Baelfire in hugs that nearly tackled the boy to the ground. Rumplestiltskin and Belle laughed lightly at the exchange, and the sound was echoed by the two fairies observing the scene from their position on the branch.
"We've missed you, Peter," Pox said in a mock-accusatory tone, landing a playful punch on the boy's shoulder and laughing. The others gradually relinquished their hugs, and Baelfire carefully lifted Tootles off of his shoulders and placed him back on his feet.
"Wait," Slightly said suddenly, his brow furrowed as he tilted his head to the side in thought, "Can we still call you that? 'Peter?' Now that we know you're actually..." His voice trailed off as he glanced at Rumplestiltskin over his plump shoulder.
The other boys fell silent, and Rumplestiltskin thought he glimpsed a trace of disappointment in their gazes.
"Of course," his son said confidently, and the Lost Boys' expressions lit up once more, "A lot's changed, but it'll always be a part of who I am."
"Can you still fly?" Nibs asked excitedly from behind the thumb he was chewing on, his black hair even spikier than usual from sleep.
At this question Baelfire's smile wavered slightly. Flying had undoubtedly been one of the most impressive of his talents as Peter Pan, and judging by the rapt attention of the Lost Boys, Rumplestiltskin knew it would not be easy for his son to explain just how much he had changed in the past few days.
"No, I can't," Baelfire answered quietly, his eyes fixing on his father as a soft smile brightened his features, "But I don't need to anymore."
Pride and perhaps a touch of nostalgia washed over Rumplestiltskin, and in a voice no louder than a whisper he found himself saying, "The boy is gone."
He felt Belle slide her hand into his, squeezing gently as they both glimpsed the mature adult Baelfire was quickly growing into.
The silence that had fallen was quickly broken once more as another boy spoke, his tiny voice noticeably melancholic.
"Are you going to leave Neverland?" Tootles asked, his vibrant green eyes peering sadly up at Baelfire.
The other boys' smiles immediately vanished, their expressions uncannily serious as they awaited their leader's answer. Baelfire remained quiet for a moment, before slowly nodding his head.
The Lost Boys' demeanors drastically changed then, their shoulders slouching and their gazes morosely focusing on their feet. Tootles' eyes slowly filled with tears, his bottom lip trembling as he sniffed loudly.
"Hey now," Baelfire said soothingly, reaching down and scooping the tiny boy into his arms, "Don't be sad." He gently wiped away the tears that had begun to fall down Tootles' face, smiling broadly as he lifted his head to survey the other boys. "You're coming with us!"
Rumplestiltskin could practically feel the happiness radiating off of Belle as Tootles, Nibs, and Curly whooped loudly at the news. Pox and Slightly, however, seemed rather hesitant.
"That is, if you want to," Baelfire added more seriously, his gaze traveling between the two older boys. Slightly looked down at the ground, absentmindedly turning over a rock with his foot and chewing on his bottom lip.
"Leave...Neverland?" Pox asked slowly, a frown crumpling his pockmarked face, "After all this time?"
"Won't we have to grow up then?" Slightly asked worriedly, his forehead creased as he looked up at Baelfire.
"Yes," Baelfire responded solemnly to both their questions, "You don't have to come, if you don't want to. But...it might be nice, to have real families again."
The two boys perked up at that, glancing excitedly at each other with widening eyes.
"Do you think," Pox began tentatively, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he turned to face Baelfire again, "Someone would really want us?"
Rumplestiltskin heard Belle gasp slightly at the question, and a moment later she removed her hand from his, pressing it above her heart. "Of course they would," she insisted fervently, "Anyone would be happy to have you as their sons."
Pox's lips twitched into a smile, and for a moment his gaze became rather unfocused, as though he were picturing the parents and home he felt he had only ever dreamed about. Inhaling a deep breath, he slowly nodded. Slightly followed suit, clapping a hand on Baelfire's shoulder as he declared, "We're comin' with you, Peter. Wherever it is you're going."
"Excellent," Baelfire breathed, his mouth splitting into a wide grin as Tootles cheered again. Pox lifted the tiny boy from Baelfire's arms and hoisted him onto his own shoulders, before asking eagerly, "So, when do we go home?"
Both Rumplestiltskin and Belle chuckled at his question; for one who had seemed so reluctant to leave, it appeared now he could hardly wait to start his new life. Belle met his gaze, smiling softly as she, too, apparently awaited his answer to Pox's question. Rumplestiltskin's eyes traced over the group as he counted their number and hummed quietly in thought.
"I believe the better question to ask right now," he began, turning his attention to the green fairy perched on the branch above them, "Is how do we go home?"
Aibreann floated down toward them, hovering a couple feet before Rumplestiltskin's face as she contemplated his question. "How exactly did you travel here?" She asked quietly, brow furrowed in thought.
"With the help of two fairies," the man answered, smirking slightly when the pixie's eyebrows rose in surprise, "They were able to construct a small portal, provided we could focus on our happiest memories." He could not help glancing at his son then, recalling how overjoyed he had felt at the news of the child's impending birth.
Aibreann sighed lightly, running a hand through her windswept tresses. "I don't think that option is possible here," she explained regretfully, "To create and maintain a portal strong enough to transport all seven of you...We are small in number, and we expended a lot of magic while subduing the pirates after we told them of Hook's death. Ruadh and Flannach are still there." She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, frowning slightly.
Rumplestiltskin frowned as well, wracking his thoughts for any other option that would safely carry all of them back to Storybrooke.
"You said the pirates came here like my son did: using beans," he stated contemplatively, his gaze brightening, "Are there any growing here?"
"I'm afraid not," Aibreann responded, shaking her head, "No one has ever planted a beanstalk here; they wouldn't be able to. Beans are destroyed once they've created a portal."
"No, they aren't," a voice suddenly declared above them. Ruadh, her scarlet aura faint in the blazing sunlight, was weaving through the hanging vines toward them. She alighted on the railing of the vine staircase, giving her deeply scarred wing a much-needed reprieve from flight. After smiling shyly up at Belle and Rumplestiltskin in greeting, she turned to face Aibreann.
"I just saw some of H-Hook's crew use one to leave Neverland," she stated quietly, and her tiny eyes seemed to shine with a sort of brave smugness, "They seek wealthier lands. But I think they're afraid to stay here with us, now that they've lost their captain. Flannach is keeping a close watch on those who remain."
Baelfire glanced up at his father, and Rumplestiltskin could practically feel the boy's relief that Ruadh was being discrete about his dual identity in front of the Lost Boys, assuming she knew of it at all. Aibreann smiled broadly at the news, giving Ruadh an appraising look before returning her attention to Rumplestiltskin.
"The pirates did not arrive here together, nor all at once; there are bound to be more—"
"Wait!" Curly interrupted loudly, waving his hand so vigorously he nearly swatted Aibreann. His wide eyes darted between the green pixie and Rumplestiltskin as he asked, "What do they look like?"
"What does what look like, dear?" Aibreann responded, and Rumplestiltskin nearly laughed at how obviously she struggled to keep her voice even and patient.
Curly rolled his eyes, as though exasperated with how clueless grownups could be sometimes, "The beans!"
"They're clear," Baelfire answered suddenly, before either Rumplestiltskin or Aibreann could, "And about this big." He formed an oval with his thumb and index finger. "I don't remember what happened to the one I used. I never saw it agai—"
"I think I've got one!" Curly exclaimed, smacking a hand to his forehead so hard, when he withdrew it the skin was nearly as red as his frizzy hair. "In my marble bag. Wait here!"
Before anyone else could react, he sprinted toward the Drey's stairs, blundering up them and nearly tripping at the top.
"Be careful!" Belle cried, but the excited boy paid her little mind, waving half-hazardly over his shoulder as he continued running. She shook her head wearily, and Rumplestiltskin could not help the mirthful and somewhat sheepish grin that stretched his lips at the knowledge that they would very soon be living with six boisterous boys under their roof.
Faster than anyone could have expected, the ginger-haired boy was bounding back down the stairs, a small pull-string bag clutched in his right hand. Panting slightly, his cheeks flushed pink, he skidded to a halt before Belle and Rumplestiltskin. Grinning toothily, he held out one plump hand, and used the other to empty the contents of the bag into it.
A dozen small spheres fell onto his palm: several smooth stones collected from riversides, a couple colorful marbles apparently saved from his original home, some tree nuts, and finally, a transparent, asymmetrical bean.
"I found it ages ago, looking for marbles," he explained excitedly, watching as Rumplestiltskin plucked the seed from his hand, "Is this one of those beans you were talking about?"
Rumplestiltskin held what the boy had believed was a misshapen marble up in the sunlight for a moment, before nodding. "Yes," he breathed eventually, still inspecting its smooth, undamaged surface.
He heard Baelfire ascend the steps to get a closer look, and when Rumplestiltskin brought his gaze to his son's face, he was surprised to see the sorrow shadowing it.
"I...guess that settles it then," Baelfire murmured, his eyes fixed on the magical seed, "This is our way home." He reached out a slightly trembling hand, carefully removing the bean from his father's grasp. Rumplestiltskin watched as the boy swallowed thickly, saying no more.
Cautiously so as not to startle his son, who seemed lost in his own thoughts, Rumplestiltskin placed his hand over Baelfire's, curling it into a fist around the bean.
"We can leave tomorrow morning," he said quietly, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile when his son jerked his head up, his eyes bright with gratitude as well as relief, "Spend one more day in Neverland."
Baelfire stared at him for a long moment, the corner of his lips lifting into a half-smile. "Thank you, Papa," he whispered, placing his other hand over his father's and squeezing gently. Rumplestiltskin smiled understandingly; his son had lived here for centuries, and although he was undoubtedly happy to begin a new life—the life he should have had—it could not be easy to say farewell to the island that had been his refuge for so long.
"Did you hear him, boys?" Belle asked in a teasingly stern voice, her hands on her hips and a small smile playing about her full lips, "We are leaving tomorrow, which means you must pack tonight." She chuckled lightly when some of the boys grinned mischievously at each other, before continuing, "As much as I wish we could, we can't bring the entire tree house with us. So, please, only bring your most special belongings, all right?"
"Aye-Aye!" Several of the boys called, raising their hands to their foreheads in mock salutes and laughing heartily when Belle saluted them in return.
"Wait," Baelfire breathed suddenly, holding up a hand to hush the others as he stared off in the direction of the southeastern shoreline.
"What is it, Peter?" Pox whispered, shifting Tootles so that the tiny boy clung to his back, and hovering a hand above the hatchet at his waist.
"Do you hear that?" Baelfire whispered, walking almost trancelike down the stairs until he stood at the base, his eyes still fixed somewhere in the distance.
Everyone grew silent at the shocked expression on the boy's face, and after a few moments, Rumplestiltskin realized what had astonished his son so.
Music, sung by a choir of voices smoother and clearer than a freshwater spring, floated over the island. As though in awe of the melody, all other sounds in the forest ceased: the hush of the swaying vines, the patter of dew drops dripping to the ground, the rustle of leaves tumbling in a breeze. Only the ethereal voices could be heard, their song containing no distinguishable words but nonetheless filling the listeners with joy and wonder. It was a celebratory and happy tune, with soaring notes and a consistent tempo that reminded Rumplestiltskin of a jig.
"Is that what I think it is?" The man murmured, his eyes widening in surprise as he, too, drifted in the direction of the music. He had only dealt with the creatures once before, when he had required a very particular type of ink.
Baelfire managed a small nod, bringing a hand to his untamed hair as he laughed breathlessly, "I don't believe it..." His mouth slowly split into a broad smile as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask in the rare song.
Rumplestiltskin heard Belle suddenly gasp behind him, and it was easy for him to imagine all the myths and tales she had read falling into place and bathing her in realization. She stepped cautiously closer to where the man and his son stood, as though frightened any swift movement would offend the enchanting choir.
"But," she whispered, her voice laced with incredulity, "I thought you said they were extinct?"
"I guess I was wrong," Baelfire responded, glancing at her with a grin that suggested he couldn't be happier to be mistaken, this time. She returned his smile, her turquoise eyes positively glowing with amazement as the voices crescendoed around them.
"Race you there!" Slightly bellowed suddenly, startling the three and inspiring chaos as the other Lost Boys propelled themselves across the clearing and into the forest. Nibs glanced over his shoulder at those remaining behind, beckoning enthusiastically for them to follow.
Baelfire excitedly turned around, his gaze finding Aibreann's and glinting when she nodded approvingly, her tiny mouth curved in a soft smile. Her companions wore similar expressions, their wings practically fluttering with anticipation. The boy's eyes settled on Belle, who also nodded eagerly, her features lighting up at the chance to see something she had only ever read and dreamed about.
But it was his father's gaze which held Baelfire's the longest, their matching brilliant smiles stretching even wider. "Well," Rumplestiltskin began teasingly, quirking an eyebrow, "What are we waiting for?"
The mischief glinting in the boy's eyes was the only warning Rumplestiltskin had before his son took off in a sprint. He immediately followed, chuckling breathlessly as they both passed through the tree line and headed for the dock. A tinkling laugh behind him and the colorful flashes of light above indicated that Belle and the fairies also shared in their race.
Wonder welled within him when they glimpsed the Lost Boys running only a short distance ahead, despite having left earlier. And that distance seemed to be growing shorter and shorter with every bounding step he took. He was now racing parallel to his son, whose cheeks were flushed pink with excitement and the steady motion. When they both managed to leap over a large, moss-covered log without breaking their stride, they glanced at each other with identical surprise.
Rumplestiltskin could not recall a single moment in his life when he had felt so liberated, so unencumbered by fear or grief. His joints did not ache and there was no painful stitch in his side, nor did his lungs struggle to draw breath. He felt lighter and more energetic than he had since he was a boy, and then he had always been running away from something with cowardice nipping at his heels, not toward something with adventure coursing in his veins.
Amazed that such was even possible, Rumplestiltskin increased his speed, his hair blowing back from his face in the wind. His son ran faster as well, and they were now dead even with the other boys. As though sharing in their eagerness to reach the shore, Neverland's shrubs pulled their low-growing branches out of the way and flattened their roots on the ground. A wind pushed insistently at their backs, lengthening their strides until Rumplestiltskin was certain they were all sprinting faster than any human had before.
With uncanny ease they scaled hills and rounded sharp corners, their footsteps making almost no sound in their haste. Rumplestiltskin heard his son laugh in exhilaration beside him, and the uncontainable joy it filled him with rang forth in a laugh of his own.
Sooner than he had ever thought possible, they approached the break in the trees leading to the beach. They blundered through it excitedly, their laughter and the boys' cheers echoing in the air around them. Rumplestiltskin pulled himself to a stop, placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath...before realizing that there was no need; he could breathe as freely and easily as though he had merely been sitting at his spinning wheel.
Baelfire, too, did not appear to need any rest, but he seemed beyond noticing such. He stood facing the water, his arms hanging at his sides in his astonishment at the sight which greeted him. It was only when Rumplestiltskin stepped closer and caught sight of the elusive creatures himself that he felt that same sort of mystified awe.
There were at least a dozen of them, some swimming and somersaulting in the water, and the others sitting gracefully on the half-submerged rocks, their sleek, silver fins reflecting the brilliant sunlight:
Mermaids.
A/N: Please review! :)