Chapter 40: Heartbeat
ELLE'S POV
The grown-ups and Elle were trudging through the forest a few hours later. Elle had no idea where they were going, and it bothered her, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that she could fight them, or transport away. They were just setting up their meager camp, Elle merely tugging Felix's cloak tighter around her shoulders, when the woman they'd called Regina suddenly stood, stiffened, and whirled around to face Elle, fire in her eyes and a sneer across her face.
"So what use are you to us exactly? I haven't even seen Pan trying to get you back, you can't be that important," she demanded, hands on her hips. Elle arched an eyebrow, but, strangely, the woman's sudden hostility didn't evoke as much fear or anger as it should have. It didn't evoke anything at all.
Hook sighed and cut in before Elle could open her mouth. "We've been over this, Regina. We're lucky."
The woman—Regina—scoffed. "And no one thinks she's secretly working with him? At all? Just luck that she ran right to you guys, just luck that he hasn't attacked us since she's been here, just luck that he hasn't shown up at all?"
Elle frowned, she had to agree with the woman's logic. It was odd, she would be suspicious too. But they just couldn't see it, none of these grown-ups. He hadn't come because he didn't care, he never had, that was the fact. She hadn't fought because Elle had nowhere to go, not really.
"Regina I know it's hard, but I trust Hook," the David man chimed in, sounding sympathetic. "She's our best defense, we have to try everything we can to get Henry back." Elle frowned, cocking her head towards him.
"Who is Henry?" she asked quietly. Regina's sneer deepened, but the rest looked sad. The blonde woman who had been at Dark Hollow, Emma, looked scary.
Hook ignored her question, speaking to Regina. "He won't play games—even ones he'd definitely win—with her involved. That makes saving the boy that much easier," a ghost of a grin passed over his face and his eyes darted to Emma. Emma was looking between Elle and Regina, and Elle started to feel nervous. Regina didn't say anything, but the tension was obvious. Perhaps Elle could plead her own case.
"I have more reason to mistrust you, than for you to mistrust me," she said, voice coming out quieter than she'd expected but still strong with her conviction. It was true. They had grabbed her. She had been isolated from her brothers, from Pan, for decades, and now suddenly seemed to be in the middle of a war. "At least you have a side to be on," she murmured, not quite realizing the grown-ups were still listening.
"You're not completely on ours?" Regina appeared inches before her so quickly, Elle didn't even have time to step back before the woman's fingers were tangled painfully in her hair, forcing her head back to look up into Regina's narrowed dark eyes. The woman smiled sweetly, but it didn't reach her eyes and Elle felt ice trickle slowly down her spine and her muscles tighten. "I can help persuade you, then."
Elle couldn't see the woman's other hand, but she heard the other grown-ups begin yelling. It was only a second, then somewhat stabbed through Elle's chest, seeping through the skin and tearing through the muscle. Her heart seemed to tighten, as if it wasn't beating properly, and all the emotion she'd held back all the emotions she should have been feeling since the day she ran away from her first and only family, raced through her veins and wrenched her stomach and tangled in her throat. Scream rose in her throat and she felt her magic rushing to her defense, ready to hurl Regina miles away, out of Neverland even.
But she held it back. Elle bit her lip and clenched her fists, shoving her defenses away. She felt a tugging, and the emotions suddenly disappeared. The pain stayed, as if her chest had been ripped open then crudely sewn back. She'd been through worse. Elle looked up, realizing she was now on her knees, the other grown-ups crowded around her. There were hands, so many hands, on her back and shoulders. Her eyes focused on Regina, who was now a few steps away, scowling triumphantly while Emma and the Mary Margaret woman were standing slightly in front of her, fists clenched and faces angry.
She didn't feel anything, not even fear at the glowing red object in Regina's hand, nor annoyance at all the hands on her. She didn't feel fear or happiness or anger when Pan appeared directly in front of Regina, his back to Elle, one fist clenched so tightly the knuckles glowed white and the other outstretched. She didn't wince like the grown-ups did, or like he didn't, when Regina went flying backwards and slammed into a tree, hard enough that she fell forward onto her hands and knees. She didn't rise, just coughed and shook as he turned, scowling and meeting the eyes of each grown-up.
Elle didn't even feel a tingle of fear, or pride, when they all stepped or shrank back, even the pirate and Emma. She should have been terrified, it was more than a scowl he wore. His eyes were practically on fire, magic fueled by darkness and rage made the dense air around him crackle, the entire island was as silent as a graveyard. No one was even dared to breathe.
After gazing at each grown-up, he stepped forward. They took several steps back at the same time, reminding Elle distantly of others…she didn't react to the memory, not even bothered that she couldn't fully remember it. He knelt on one knee in front of her, yet he still loomed over her and he leaned forward and reached out. Elle didn't feel scared, she didn't pull away, and she didn't lean forward either. His fingers hovered so close to her shoulder, still shrouded in Felix's cloak, she could feel the heat and still-ready magic radiating from them.
"Come back," his voice was so low she almost missed it. But she didn't, and she shook her head. Not because she didn't want to, or because she did want to. Elle refused because these grown-ups were fighting him, and they were using her to fight him. He had done something to them.
"Who is Henry?" she asked again, voice as low as his. In her peripheral vision, Elle saw the grown-ups shifting, but not daring to come closer when Pan's glare darted to them for a second. He looked back at her and huffed out a breath.
"A boy that I need, that I had to take from them," he said slowly. Elle knew she should have reacted to that, but she didn't. "these are his…" he looked around, snickering, "family, who's going to try stupidly to get him back." He grit his teeth. "And while it was entertaining for I and the boys, it will probably get you killed."
Then, something clicked. Elle still didn't feel anything, but she knew. "You took him away?" Her eyes stayed locked on his.
"Come back to camp," he insisted, voice dipping into a growl. "These grown-ups aren't going to take care of you and you don't want to be on their side when they lose and I win."
Elle did lean back then. He was evil, perhaps worse now, and she shouldn't go with him. She shouldn't be near him. He would use her too. She didn't say anything, and he growled but stood, turning his back to her and addressing the grown-ups, who stood still as statues and eyed him fearfully.
"The next one of you who hurts her," he ground out, voice so low Elle wasn't even sure how they heard him, but she knew that they did. "Dies." The word rang out in the silence, the grown-ups and Elle didn't move a muscle. Only he moved, and it was only to turn slightly to look each one in the eye—except down at her. Only Emma had the strength to nod slightly in acknowledgment. Even Regina's coughing had stopped, and he took a step towards her. To make an example. Elle didn't like Regina, but she just knew he shouldn't kill her, she knew she couldn't let him kill her.
Elle stumbled to her feet and fell forward, both hands played across his back and she used her weight and magic to shove him into transporting. She pictured the Lost Boys' camp in her mind, what she could remember. When she opened her eyes he was gone, and she didn't feel anything still. No loneliness or happiness of fear, not even when she tried to remember the place that had once been home. That word didn't even make her flinch. It was just a word, just four letters. She could spell it, say it, write it in several languages, just like most other words.
Regina had climbed to her feet and limped her way to Elle, standing right in front of her again. Elle looked up at her blankly, slightly confused. Both looked down simultaneously at the glowing, pulsing object in Regina's hand. It was sort of pretty up close, glowing red with traces of gold and white in some of the crevices. Regina was frowning.
"This is your heart," she finally said. "I took it, so you can't feel anything, and I can control you." Elle just nodded, not sure how to take the information. She supposed she should feel violated, angry, scared of that power. But Elle knew she could do that too, if she really tried.
"What else can that do?" Elle asked, curious. It felt kind of nice, she had faced Pan without fear or sadness. The heart of a person, especially one as powerful as herself…Elle wondered what power it gave Regina.
"Pan needs Henry's," Regina's said slowly, still staring into it. "He'll rip it out of his chest. Henry is eleven years old," her voice cracked and Elle could see her swallow hard, but she continued. "A heart, taken by magic from the body, is so powerful. I have done this countless times and even I don't fully know what it can do. Each heart is different." Elle just looked at her, as Regina finally met her eyes.
"Do you love Henry? He is your son?" Elle whispered. Regina nodded.
"He's mine, and he's hers," her chin jerked toward Emma, who was watching quietly. "And we love him every day." Elle didn't know what to say after that. Regina's voice was too thick with truth to deny it, but Pan didn't take boys who were loved. They weren't lost then. Regina looked back down at the heart. "It was wrong of me to take yours, I suppose we will have to trust you."
Then her hand was flat against Elle's chest and it happened again. Her chest was ripped open, emotions she'd hidden away since she ran away flooded though her body and stabbed into her mind and fingers and stomach, her chest was crudely sewn together. It was less painful this time, or maybe faster, or maybe she was used to it. Or perhaps she forgot the pain quickly because the emotion returned, and the encounter with Pan replayed in her mind. Elle's heart broke. He was still so cold, and now was preparing to kill a child. A boy.
The grown-ups were all sleeping, and the pains in Elle's chest had dulled to aches and she could ignore them again. The other grown-ups had slowly pushed their fear aside, although she still saw it in all of their eyes, and finished setting up camp and had gone to fitful sleeps. They hadn't spoken to her after Regina had replaced her heart, except Baelfire who had asked if she was alright. What else could she have said other than yes. They didn't speak to her, and she didn't speak to them. She didn't need to. She must have proven her innocence, the lack of ties between her and Pan…the lack of ties strong enough.
Elle couldn't remember the last hour or so, she knew time had passed because the moon was in a different position, and the other grown-ups were still asleep. But she wasn't. she stood slowly and walked away, just outside the tiny clearing, bare feet silent on the forest floor as always. It occurred to her, as she stood alone with her back to them and faced the rest of the trees covering the island, white hair in tangles around her shoulders and providing as much light around her as the pale moon did, that she could disappear. She knew the spell, she had enough magic. The mermaids and the Shadow would help her, welcome her back. The grown-ups, the Lost Boys, Pan, would all never be able to find her, just as they never had. This war between them, was between them. She could leave.
But it would do nothing. She would be alone, not knowing what was happening yet knowing that something was wrong. Pan didn't just take and kill children for no reason, she had never known him to kill a boy at all. Pirates and grown-ups, yes, he killed them constantly. She knew that. He'd made her help. A presence yanked her out of her reverie, but she didn't move or look around. His magic engulfed the space to her right and slightly above her, in a tree. She wondered if he knew how clearly she could still feel everything on the island, and if he let his aura be so detectable on purpose.
"You know I'm alone, and I know that you're there," she murmured, almost to herself. She wasn't really sure if she wanted him to react, and she wasn't sure how she felt when he did.
"I'm right here, love," his voice was taunting, always taunting. But it seemed bitter, still soft like it had been earlier.
"Is it true? Did you take Henry from them? From a good home?"
He didn't pause. "He's the Truest Believer. I need him, so I can stay alive—" his voice was flat and steady. And wrong.
"Did you take a boy from a home where he was happy?" Elle's voice was a whisper, her throat was too tight for more, yet he stopped speaking when she spoke. In the back of her mind, she begged him to say no.
Instead, she heard a sigh, and he appeared in front of her, standing on the ground, barely an arm's length away. He scowled and looked down, hands clasped behind his back. "Yes." He looked up at her, eyes not quite meeting hers. "I need him—"
"You made a Lost Boy of a boy who was not lost," Elle wasn't aware she had spoken aloud until he scoffed at that.
"I'm making him one, he pretty much is." His voice held so much pride, and something inside Elle snapped.
"You haven't changed. You're worse," her voice came out a sob, but her eyes were dry and she didn't care enough to try to steady it. "I'd rather watch you slaughter a thousand innocent men, and I'd rather help you with each one, than take a child from a place where he was happy, and loved."
"Princess, please, I need to—" She was looking down at the ground somewhere between them, his fingers came into view and she yanked herself away. His voice was soft, and sounded identical to hers, but she didn't care. No tears clouded her vision, her throat was open and her stomach was heavy but still.
"You need his heart," she recited as if she'd heard it a thousand times. She had heard it several times, but was just now fully understanding Regina's words. "The truest part of any person. I know how that works—I had my own experience," she saw his fingers flinch and pull out of view at that. "It'll hurt him, and it will kill him," she finished slowly, fully realizing it. Regina had only held hers, she hadn't used it. Pan wanted to use Henry's.
"But I need it to stay alive. I'll die, princess. You really want to see me dead?" his voice was harder, sneering at the end, but Elle wouldn't let it hurt her. It dripped with malice, but her own pain lay hidden under it. Or so she hoped.
"You will live off of the years of an innocent child. You can live with yourself?" she spat. He'd lost it, she'd lost him. He wasn't Pan anymore, not the one she knew. Not even the one she ran away from. "Perhaps you've lived long enough." The words felt foreign, and she couldn't even muster enough emotion to carry into them.
She didn't hear anything, but she felt the air change. It felt as empty as she did. Elle looked up after a few moments, or maybe hours. It could have been years and she wouldn't have known. He was gone, in every way possible.
Elle turned and wandered back to the grown-ups' campsite, sitting cross-legged on top of the blanket Mary Margaret had managed to find for her. She waited for another hour or so, unable to sleep or move or think, until they awoke. Everyone seemed newly determined, or hardened, she wasn't sure, but they packed quickly and moved quietly.