A/N: These are a series of oneshots that have been randomly written up, based off prompts, and requests given by reviewers. If you'd like to see something, comment and add it in your review. All of these oneshots are AU, and are not meant to follow canon events, and minor details may be changed just to help the stories flow.
( 001. ) How to Babysit the Eternal
Peter Pan has been brought back to Storybrooke despite the distrust of many. Gold is impatient, Emma is busy… and the task of babysitting falls upon Belle, who strangely, isn't reluctant to take on the task.
"We can't just let him run around Storybrooke," Emma Swan stated firmly, crossing her arms, the frown already on her face deepening as she thought over her own words. "You saw the mind games he played on us back in Neverland. If he does that here, he'll throw the entire world into chaos; this town is the only town that understands magic. He passes the town line, who knows what will happen."
Gold frowned at the utmost gravity with which the blonde woman spoke. "I already told you, Miss Swan, I took away all of his magic," he reminded them. "He can't play anymore games; and I doubt any of us will not notice if he attempts leaving the town."
"You were the one that told us how dangerous this kid is," Emma replied sharply, eyes narrowing, folding her arms over her chest. "Now, just because he can't make… cupcakes appear out of thin air… you sound like you're for not locking him up."
"I never said that."
"Well it sounded like that's what you meant."
"Miss Swan, I understand that because of Henry's kidnapping, you aren't in such a… pleasurable… mood; but do not, under any circumstances, question my immense dislike of Pan." The Dark One's tone grew a darker, warning tone. "He's haunted my life for centuries, so believe me when I say, if we were in the Enchanted Forest, I should not hesitate to put him behind bars and leave him there for the rest of his immortal life. Or, even farther, were you not in my way."
That took some of the fire from her eyes, but she still glared sourly at him. "So… why don't we do what you just suggested."
Gold wore that tired look people gained when they'd been teaching an imbecile for too long. That look of impatience. "Because, dearie, we are in this world now, not the Enchanted Forest. And here, in humane little Earth, locking a minor up in a dungeon for the rest of his life would be a bit… severe. There are rules in this world, Miss Swan, rules that I believe you of all people should know and understand about. Locking Pan up here is, unfortunately, not an option; at least it's a useless option. Without power, he's relatively – and I say relatively – harmless; as long as you don't give him means to become dangerous."
Everyone in the room – Hook, Emma, the Charmings – seemed a bit more relieved at the man's fervent insistence that this was under control; however, Emma's doubts refused to be quenched. "If he's without magic," she said slowly, the frown reappearing. "Then how is he still immortal? Even better question: how did he get immortal in the first place?"
Gold's look of perfect confidence faded just the tiniest bit. "That… I do not know."
Suddenly, a throat-clearing sound came from the sixteen-year-old tied to a chair in the nearby corner, who was watching the exchange with an amused smirk. "Hello? I am right here," Peter Pan said, flashing a smile. "Just thought I would remind you all."
Emma scowled at the teen still clad in his green and brown rag tunic, but turned to face him all the same. "Fine. You want attention? How are you still immortal?"
The smile remained as he answered easily, "Simple – part of being immortal is that you cannot die. In order not to die, you must remain immortal. An easy answer to an easy question, really. Are you sure you're the 'Savior', Emma? Figured a real messiah would have figured that one out on her own…"
"Shut up," she cut him off, rolling her eyes. "So how did you get immortal?"
"I… wished upon a star."
"Cute, but I know that's not it. Try again."
"I lost a bet with a leprechaun."
"Again."
"Tossed a coin in your… what is it called?... wanting well?"
"Last chance, kid."
Peter lowered his head, slowly shaking it, as he sighed. "Alright, fine…
"…I blew out the candles on my birthday cake. You got me."
Ignoring the young man's irritating laughter, Emma turned back to the others, silently seething. "I won't be his bodyguard," she stated simply, gritting her teeth as she walked away from the corner. "He can't be left alone, I don't want him wandering around Storybrooke, and he can stay in the jail cells for now; but I will not be his babysitter when his time in there is up; I have other things to worry about than babysitting an obnoxious little imp." And with that, she left the building, heading for the diner to meet with Henry and Regina.
The Charmings had too much personal business to attend to – something involving reconnecting parental bonds and such – and leaving Hook to watch Pan was like leaving a dog to watch another dog. Regina would fry the boy, Gold probably would as well when pushed far enough, only more slowly and painfully, and no one else in the town dared go near the legendary teenaged sorcerer. That left…
"Belle," Gold warned his fiancé the week after the return from Neverland. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes, Rumple, I do," the young brunette woman answered as she opened the door to the town jail. "You all have left him in that one cell for seven days – no one will guard him if you let him out, except for me. And you definitely can't do it because you have to figure out about combining the Enchanted Forest and this world with a permanent portal so we can travel back and forth… no. I'm the one that has to and will do this."
"He's dangerous. Don't let him fool you, and do not let down your guard…"
She turned to him, placing one slender finger over his lips as she smiled. "Rumple, I can handle babysitting a sixteen-year-old mischief maker for a few hours while you go work with Regina and the others. I'll be fine; and if something does happen to go wrong, I'll call you. I promise."
It wasn't easy getting that stubborn man to leave; but eventually, he did, after shooting a locked-up Peter Pan a warning, murderous glare. It didn't even faze the boy, nor did he react in any special way as Belle unlocked the cell door and opened it. He simply stepped outside and stood beside her, smiling.
It wasn't a normal smile; it reeked of trouble, and it made her uneasy. But she brushed that feeling off right away and took a deep breath, nodding. "Alright then… I don't think we've met, but I'm Belle. I'm going to be… watching… you today." She stuck out her hand, kept a straight face, and even straighter posture. Polite but not cold; simple but professional.
He stared at her hand as if it were a dragon's claw. And he continued staring until she withdrew it slowly and then said, "I don't know if anyone else offered, but would you like some new clothes? I see your still wearing the ones you came here in, and they seem a bit…"
He cut her off with a nonchalant, "I'm good," as he strode right past her and out through the jail doors, impossibly quick for a sprite not even running. She watched him, slightly stunned for a few seconds, before realizing what was happening and jogging after him. "Wait!"
She caught up to him easily, found him leaning outside the library building watching several adults cross the street just so they won't have to walk past him. At least he knows that running away won't do him any good. She noticed how humanized Jiminy Cricket grew pale when he nearly ran right into Pan, and how Peter rolled his eyes when the man nervously gave him a polite nod before scurrying away. As she approached him, he turned to her, shaking his head.
"It's amusing how some of the greatest warriors in the Enchanted Forest become complete cowards when in this world," he remarked lightly, emerald eyes sparking as he watched another elderly lady rush past. "I almost feel sorry for them in their pathetic state."
She watched him closely. "Everyone… but you, I presume?"
He smiled at her, pushing himself off the wall. "Well obviously." With that, he shoved open the doors leading into the library and entered.
Peter Pan entered the library. The well-organized, perfectly peaceful library. Her library. "Oh no." She rushed in after him, alarm growing when she didn't see the boy anywhere, even though she'd entered only a second or so after him. Biting her lip, she thrust her cloak down onto the check-out desk and scanned the area carefully for anything out of place. This was her second home, her domain – she'd see anything out of place.
But then again, Peter didn't make her detective work that hard in the first place. He was sitting on the railing of the second story balcony, legs swinging lazily as he smirked down at her. She blinked several times before climbing the stairs upwards towards him. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Get yourself down from there right now – I don't think we should be in here today." Or ever. If this arrogant teenager destroyed a single one of her books…
He laughed slightly as she rushed up towards him. "Don't strain yourself, dearie," he teased in a nearly perfect imitation of Gold. It almost made her stumble, but she finished climbing the stairs and started towards him, shaking her head. "I told you to get down from there," she said, growing annoyed.
"Sorry, lass," he replied cheekily, chuckling at her flushing face. "I quite like the view from up here."
"Get down before you fall and kill yourself; or before someone walks in and you fall on top of them and kill them."
"I believe you've forgotten my… immortal… condition, French. And I would've thought your dashing Dark One wore his heart on his sleeve for you; seems rather suspicious that he would keep this important information from you."
Arrogance. Oh, how she loathed arrogance. "I do know your immortal," she corrected him, folding her arms across her breast as she stared him down. If only she weren't wearing her pretty blue dress today; she might seem more authoritative. "But I thought Rumple said that only meant you're stuck like… this." She motioned to his lanky teenaged frame. "You can't die of old age. Can't you still be killed?"
He didn't even blink; just kept on grinning. "My, my, you are a smart one. Much smarter than your precious Savior – tell me, how did Emma ever gain that title? She just barely managed to get Henry back in Neverland; had I had a bit more time, she never would've succeeded."
The remembrance that this young man had kidnapped Henry with the intent of keeping him in Neverland forever only made her face flush harder. "You do remember that I'm your guard?" she stated slowly. "Technically, you're my prisoner. I decide what you can and cannot do now, and I say you cannot stay sitting there. Get down!"
"How wonderful you are at your job," he replied without a care. "But… if you insist."
She couldn't believe it when he jumped right off the railing. "Pan!" She hurried over to the railing, only to throw herself backwards to escape the lithe boy's body as he flipped himself back onto the balcony and down onto the second-story floor, having used the railing for momentum, landing on his feet. She leaned against the wall, lips twisting in frustration, as he winked at her. "What?" he snorted, amused. "Were you worried?"
She marched forward and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him down the stairs and out of the library. He offered no resistance, just irritating dialogue. "You know, you probably wouldn't have to worry about me," he remarked. "If I were able to save myself from such a lethal fall. Of course, that would only happen if…"
"You are not getting your magic back," she interrupted hotly, inwardly sighing.
"Can't blame me for trying," he replied, not sounding disappointed at all.
She tried her best not to groan as she guided him towards Granny's.
The tour of Storybrooke's basic sights followed an unbreakable pattern: enter building, Peter disappeared inside building, Belle searched until she found Peter (almost always in a dangerous or reckless position), and then she dragged him out to another place where the cycle repeated. It didn't matter how hard she held onto the kid, or how closely she watched him; even without magic, he was a sorcerer when it came to disappearing, or causing little swirls of trouble here and there, simply irritating her until the afternoon ended and she brought him back to the jail, slamming his cell shut as he laughed and called goodnight after her.
"He didn't hurt anyone?" was Gold's main question that night as they closed up the pawn shop. Grateful that she could say "yes", she answered the question with relief, making him raise an eyebrow in her direction.
"Was he dangerous?" he asked lowly, voice threatening. She knew that if things had gone differently, if Peter had tried anything, he'd probably be dead now by the Dark One's hands.
But, he hadn't been dangerous. He'd been annoying and mischievous and impulsive and a teenager; but he hadn't been dangerous. Now thoughtful on this realization, Belle shook her head as she locked the front door of the shop. "No, he wasn't. Not at all."
This continued on her mind until her eyes finally shut, lying on her back in the bed next to her fiancé, and her mind succumbed to slumber.
She was assigned Peter the next day as well, because Gold's paranoia had lessened and because no one else still wanted the task. Somehow, they ended back up in the library again, but this time, Belle didn't object. She just let the teenager browse books while she sat down and read a pocket-sized adventure novel. A customer came in after a few hours, and she helped the fidgety gentleman find a book on protection spells (he shot a look at a grinning Peter as he explained his desire) and then returned to her place behind the check-in counter to find the book she'd been reading missing. Immediately, she turned to find Peter whistling as he strode past, hands behind his back, lips twitching with a suppressed smile. Oh, it wouldn't require a guessing game to solve this mystery.
"Give it back."
"What back?" he said all-too innocently.
"My book, Pan," she said, holding out her hand. "I know you took it while I was with Mr. Humdum. Now give it back."
It took more asking and denying before Peter finally sighed. "Fine, yes, I took your dumb old book," he confessed at last. "But… returning it won't be as easy. How about we play a little game to find it? Hot and cold, perhaps?"
She said no at first; but after several more minutes of asking and being denied, she finally conceded. And the next hour went past with her wandering in all different directions like a blind idiot while Peter's voice floated giddily throughout the library. Seventy minutes later, and she gave up, storming back to the counter where Peter was lying on his back on a book cart, a book on his face. She stared at him for a minute before charging over and ripping the book off of him, outraged. "You weren't even paying attention!" she accused.
He sat up and shook his head. "No, I wasn't." He held up a finger before she could say anything, and added, "It doesn't matter what I shouted; after all, any direction would've led you to your precious book had you been a bit more of a deep thinker. And…" He reached forward; and plucked the tiny novel out of the hood of Belle's jacket. "…a bit more observant of when people sneak up behind you while your discussing things with Mr. Hum-whatever."
This game of Hot and Cold continued wherever she dragged/took him; only, after the library, his directions actually led to where he hid the things he pickpocketed: her keys in the back booth of Granny's diner, her phone with the apples in the market, her hair pin in her chipped tea cup in the pawn shop (Gold wasn't there, or else he probably would've glared Pan to death upon seeing the foolishness with how they carried on throughout the town). This time, the games weren't as annoying to her as the Hide and Seek had been yesterday, and when she was assigned as babysitter a third day in a row, she went to the jail and followed Peter to the library without missing a beat.
Four more days added to those made a week of watching Peter Pan run around the town pulling small pranks and pulling her into games that exhausted her, irritated her, and also amused her once-boring hours of sitting in the library waiting for Gold. On the seventh day, she followed Peter into library as usual, and sat down at the desk to let the boy wander around and start whatever harmless folly he wished to do that day.
When she heard the sound of glass shattering, however, she dropped her book and flew up the stairs to find glass strewn across the floor, an open window, and no Peter Pan.
"Pan!" She sprinted out of the library and managed to catch a glimpse of the familiar green tunic before the boy disappeared into a nearby alley. She chased after him, noticing after passing the last few houses of the town just where he was heading: the town line. He was running. "Pan, stop!" She pushed herself harder, Gold's warnings ringing in her ears regretfully.
When she chased the teen into an abandoned area covered in loose gravel and sand, with red signs posted around the area, she stopped short and her eyes widened. "Peter, STOP!"
Her warning came an instant too late, and she watched the ground cave in beneath the young man's weight as he crashed into the abandoned mines that ran below this area of the town. Cursing uncharacteristically, she threw herself forward and landed on her knees near the whole, peering into the darkness. She just managed to catch a glimpse of hands gripping a large stone with white knuckles as the rest of Pan's body hung off the edge of the tunnel over an abyss below. He looked up as she looked down, and he glared at her with such anger that she was taken aback for a long moment before she snapped herself out of it. With quick fingers, she unfastened the cloak from around her neck and hung it over the hole in the ground, so that it dangled just above the teen. The anger vanished from his eyes, and was replaced by wary confusion.
His hands slipped a bit, and she leaned forward more so that her upper half was hanging down into the darkness. "Pan, grab it," she called down, panting from the strain. "Grab it."
It took one more second of him staring at her – why? – before he swung himself up enough to grab the cloak. Teeth clenched together, she forced herself back into a sitting position, hauling Pan up with her, groaning when she finally managed to pull him back up out of the mine and onto solid ground. Arm muscles protesting violently, she didn't react when the boy collapsed beside her, as she gasped for breath through her nose and mouth.
When she did look at him, she was surprised to find he had his hand pressed against an invisible wall to his right, only a few feet away from the mine. After a few minutes of observation, she realized the wall was a force field – a dome. And it was pretty obvious whose doing it was from. So Gold had made a spell preventing Pan from leaving Storybrooke – it didn't surprise her. Obviously, it didn't surprise Peter, but that didn't make any of the darkness leave the teen's face as he sat back against a tree and scowled.
He'd looked at her like that while hanging over the mine's abyss; anger. Rage. Accusation. Belle was intelligent, and she wasn't slow. It only took a few more minutes of silence before she came up with a reasonable guess as to what that look had meant, and she stated it not with hesitation but calculation. "Did you think I would let you fall?" she asked.
Peter didn't react to the words, wasn't surprised. He just kept staring ahead; but after a beat, she noticed his jaw tighten, and took that as a tense 'yes'.
"You ran," she added, and noticed how his lips twitched. 'Captain Obvious' she could practically hear him thinking. She could read him fairly easy now, she realized. Just as she realized that Pan had had no reason to learn how to shield his thoughts or emotions back when he'd been an isolated, immortal ruler of an immortal land with only a few boys to keep him company. "You realize this could give them reason to lock you up for good," she went on. Honesty, her main virtue. "It could be the very reason for you to never leave that cell ever again."
A pause.
"But it's not a reason for me to let you die," she added quietly; quietly, because her mind couldn't help but wonder how anyone could think that she would let them die. For trying to run. She'd done her own fair share of running in her life (even if she'd been running to something, not from). "I wouldn't do that." I'm not the Queen…
Or Rumple.
For the first time, Pan looked a bit surprised. It didn't show much – no, he was too prideful for that – but she saw it in the way his green eyes widened as he stared straight ahead, and the way his fingers froze from their actions of fiddling with his shirt. Silence reigned for a while after that, neither one of them bothering to talk. Belle found it foolish to go running for help now; Peter couldn't leave the town, so why bother mentioning that he had run? She didn't want him locked up forever, she could safely say that now. But others thought he should be, and for good reason; this gave her another question.
"Why did you kidnap all those boys?" Had anybody even bothered to inquire about this before? Had they looked for the reason Felix and Baelfire and Henry and all those others had been taken by Pan's shadow to the island of Neverland?
She thought he wouldn't answer, but strangely, he did. "For the simplest reason in the world," he replied, his accent not missing any of his smart-aleck charm, though it was somehow softer. Less… sharp, less menacing. More like the voice of an actual boy. "It gets lonely when all your friends die away and you can only watch them turn to dust."
Belle wondered if any of the others had considered this; an immortal boy could only have company for so long before time stole them away. Neverland would keep boys alive, at a young age, for as long as Peter kept them there; it made sense. Perfect sense, really. Why the Lost Boys had been formed. There were questions as to why Peter chose specific children, but she didn't feel they were quite that important right now. Besides, now she had another inquiry, one she'd heard Emma ranting about earlier.
"How are you immortal?"
That sly smile reappeared, and she actually got something of an answer. Peter decided she deserved one. "I sold my soul to a demon to escape the devil." Cryptic, not a lie, not a truth, just a riddle. But it was more than he'd ever given anyone, and Belle noticed. She always noticed, when it came to him, and that unsettled him. She could read him, something others had failed to do. Belle was the Dark One's true love, a member of this forsaken town, friends with the Savior and those damn Charmings and the pestering Queen and all the others…
But he liked her. "You know…" he said, just to change to subject, and also to ease away any more questions she might ask. "…it's a shame you're a girl."
She raised an eyebrow, and actually smiled in amusement. "Why?"
He matched her grin, and his, this time, was natural. "I would've enjoyed you as a Lost Boy."
It was nowhere near a completeness, or a healing, or a sudden bond of understanding and trust. It was just the plain and simple fact that Peter Pan had to learn the ways of this new, modern world, and that Belle was the only one that seemed to be able to teach him. Took a few days, but gradually, Gold noticed, Emma noticed, others noticed… and they stopped looking at him like he were a spawn of hell, because apparently, if the book-loving sweetie-pie of a girl could handle him, anyone could. He rolled his eyes at the thought as the door to his cell opened, and looked over to see the Savior standing there, with Belle and Gold standing behind her.
"You're being released early on account of good behavior," Swan said dryly, stepping aside so he could come out. "Belle and Mr. Gold have a spare room where you can stay." He also heard the where they can watch you and where Gold can cut you down should you try anything that she didn't say.
He tried not to act surprised, but it didn't matter. Belle read him like a book and smiled.
Damn her.