Chapter Text
Green eyes glared at each of them, from The Poor-Excuse-Of-An-Evil Queen, to the ever irritable maggot that had caused him such grief centuries ago.. If looks could kill.. well, he was sure his could, if they were on Neverland still, and not in this cursed mundane town.
He dared spare a glance behind him, only one thing more cruel than death for him? This. Rumple was so near killing him, his shoulder still was bleeding and ached, so close to his blacked heart, the little vermin was so ready to kill himself if it meant ending him and saving his supposed family.. how he wanted to laugh at such a stupid idea.
Baelfire, Henry, Emma, Belle, Rumple, Regina, Killian, Snow, Charming, and Rumple stepped closer. He took a step back, noticing the red droplets on the faded grey asphalt. "You can't do this." He near snarled.
"You deserve so much worse" Regina was happily ready to char him if he so much as breathed wrong.
"You were ready to kill all of us, you nearly killed Henry"
Peter glanced at Henry who was quiet, the boy had not said anything against him, not yet. Still he didn't say anything for him either.
Rumple walked forward. "Consider this a mercy, dearie."
"It's Hell! You're giving me no mercy!" He yelled out his rage, hiding his pain. From the look in Rumple's eyes, the man knew full well that this was no mercy, but indeed a fate worse than any torture or any death Pan himself could think of.
Worst of it all was how they managed to bind his magic.. it had stopped his magic and he was attempting to buy time. Rumple had managed to coat his dagger with what ever this was and Pan had noticed to late to flee. The buying time wasn't on his side.
"You are banished to The Land Without Magic, once you step over, you will not return.. let's see if our spell will keep you out.. I hope you burn to ash, but that's just me"
Pan was about to snap and her, she didn't allow him another word..
The combined magic of Rumple, Emma, and Regina were to much for him in his state. And by the time he felt his magic return, it was gone just as quickly as he was pushed over the line..
The burn was painful but he survived.. when he opened his eyes, there was no town, just a continuous road.
Peter yelled and cursed, trying to form any sort of magic. He screamed until he was in tears. Truly alone now with no one to help him. No Felix, No Lost Ones, his mind bitterly went to Killian who watched his eternal enemy suffer such a fate with satisfaction.
The boy looked down the other road and slowly, now more weakly, began to walk away from Storybrooke, further and further. A long eternal walk that took days, his wound burning and aching.. but he forced himself to pay no mind, just like his pained stomach that hungered, or burning throat that thirsted, and the few people that bothered to be concerned about his injury.. the tunic stained a darker color.
Thieving never left one, no matter how many centuries of not doing it. It was easy to steal food and water, even with the technology.. also it amused him slightly that people still knew Peter Pan, fantasy or not. He was still known even here when the world crushed imagination and dreams under it's filthy, realistic heal.
Finding himself finally collapsing, broken down in a crumbled heap, the cold sidewalk and drizzle relieved his wound some. It was infected and he knew it, he didn't dare to check it though, if he was to die here, so be it. He wanted to laugh at himself, Peter Pan Never Fails, yet here he was.. broken, starving, possibly dying. Neverland was severed from him, he had felt it rip from him as if his very soul was torn from his body..
Darkness began to take him. It was so inviting, death. It was easy, like sleeping.. and maybe he can return to Neverland once again, does it work that way for him? As someone that aided the souls of children from time to time when he was needed.. would he be welcomed there to? Who would guide his soul.. if he even had one left? Maybe he was destined for Tartarus.. he was unsure.. but he didn't care. Death was awaiting.
----
"Who is he?"
"An orphan, one of our Catchers saw him come into town. He was alone"
"No one at all?"
Silence.
"Well well, we have a lucky little lost patient. Hmm the boy is running a high fever- his shoulder is badly infected.. blood poisoning by the looks of it."
"How do you think he's alive? He should have been long rotten by now"
"If I believed in miracles, it was that. A miracle he come to us.. don't worry boy, we will fix you"
"Pe.."
"Hmm what's that?"
"I-" Peter opened his eyes, they were so heavy, his vision was blurred and the bright light stung his eyes. "Peter.. I'm Peter Pan"
"Peter Pan?" The man's voice asked, Peter nodded best he could as confirmation.
"His mind is warped."
"He had clothing of some of the plays I've seen. Maybe his mind's warped from that"
Peter wanted to laugh. This was Hell indeed, if he were in Neverland or what mortals called Heavens, he'd feel so much better than he was now.. he was freezing and suddenly he howled and thrashed at a sudden burning as if he was being branded by a hot iron. He screamed, fully awake but unable to struggle to get away, teeth biting and nails scratching, both missing those that held him and dared harm him.. suddenly a sharp pain and warm heat filled him from his side.. and he was out.
---
The weeks were torture for Peter. He was given strange colors in syringes, electrocuted, tortured over and over.. all the while, they toyed with him. Calling him Peter Pan like he wasn't Peter Pan.
He guessed they wouldn't understand, disgusting adults couldn't tell their nose from their asshole. Still he became scarily aware that their torture was working..
His infection was cleaned over and over, that was a pain in itself. Slowly it began to heal. And slowly he was allowed to roam..
But not before they strapped something degrading around his neck. A dark collar looking thing that shocked him whenever he wandered some place he shouldn't or when he tried to rip the damned thing off.. torture.. Hell indeed.
Rumple- who's that- right his son- son?- Kicked him out of Neverland and Storybrooke... Storybrooke? It doesn't exist? Of course it did...
Peter became afraid. His little mattress on the floor had holes.. and he struggled to write out the names of places and people he knew.
He repeated them as much as he could when alone. "I-I'm Peter.. no I'm Malcolm, I have.. have a son.. I have Rumple.. my Rumple" He spat at his own sympathy for the disgusting creature. "Henry.. Henry he.. Truest Believer.. no he's more. Yes. He believes in me, right..? He believed in me. Felix.. Felix" He looks around as if expecting to hear his most loyal of Lost Ones and closest of what he could have called friend next to Rufio-
"Rufio.. Rufio.. was he.. yes he was a friend. Yes."
"Gosh will you just go to bed?" Another voice startled Peter and he looked around.
"He.. Hello? Was that someone else? Or just me going mad?" He paused for a listen, after a minute he sighs.
The laugh echoed from the vent. It gave Pan chills, he just didn't know if from fear or excitement. "Got ya there!"
"Haha.. I guess you did.. Forgive me.. I'm trying to remember people"
"Eh, couldn't sleep any way. Why bother remembering?"
"So I don't lose myself in this Hell."
"Hell?" There was a giggle this time as Peter heard springs squeak as either a weight was put on or taken off of them. "Are you the new play thing that Strangey is breaking in?"
"Strangey? Figures.. I guess I am.. they're um.. trying to make me into Peter Pan.. only problem is, I am Peter Pan?"
"Peter Pan? You mean the boy that flies about with that yellow fairy, what's her name.. gorgeous girl, to tiny though for.. well."
"Tinkerbell, I never understood why they made her that size. She use usually taller." Peter lays back, looking about. "But yes, laddie, I'm that Peter Pan.. can't fly here though. Your world doesn't have magic.. I feel like a plant that's withering if I'm honest."
"And they call me the crazy one. Listen 'laddie', if you think you're Pan then you're already broken."
Peter shook his head, silent.
"Aww, don't be sad. It's okay to have some madness in ya. Sanity is a boring facade that society put on people to keep them in line. Why be a sheep that's being led to either get it's coat sheared or to the slaughter?"
".. your words make little and so much sense. I am Peter Pan.. they are trying to make their version of Peter Pan. It scares me greatly that I will lose who I am. With every torture, a piece of me is destroyed, and replaced with.. with what they want. It's like. Like.. like glass, no.. mirrors, broken mirrors and they are trying to put pieces that don't belong together, they smash them and they fit.. horribly."
There was a silence as Peter looked at the vent above him. ".. I'm on a lower level. Where are you?"
"I have not been on your level, it must be a dirty little secret room or floor. What are they doing down there in Hell?"
"Well.. Strangey is experimenting on me, and other people. There are some monsters down here.. some are taken away on I think trucks. Maybe failed experiments." Peter tried to explain to the voice in the vent and he heard foot steps. "So-Someone's coming" Peter quickly said as he watched, what he guessed was a nurse walk past his cell, not even sparing him a glance. When he was sure he was alone (or as alone as you could be with a voice) did he look at the vent. "I've said who I am, what's your name.. I can't keep calling you 'Voice in The Vent' now can I?"
"Nah, I suppose not.. hmm guess it. It starts with a J"
"Hmm Jack?"
"EH" He mocked a buzz of an alarm. "Think longer."
"Jared? No that's not long. Joe, Jay.. gee.. I'm sorry, they sound long in my head for some reason.." He chuckled to himself. "Um.. Jeremiah?"
"Wh- EW! That's the worst insult you could call me. Damn.. that's gross"
"Wha.." He guessed he shouldn't use that name, but he liked it. It was unusual. Rarely had any Lost One called that. "Jer.. am I close?"
"Jer.. say that one more time and I will never talk again to you..." He pause. "Ah who am I fooling, like I'd shut up now that I have Peter Pan in my ear"
"Jerome"
"Ding Ding Ding! We have a winner!"
"Jerome.. I like that name" He left out the to for his own sake. "It's nice to meet you, laddie."
"Likewise, kinda wish the circumstances were better. Can't even see you from where I am"
"Neither can I. So are you in the Asylum?"
"Yep, it's fun up here."
"Huh.. isn't that for the, you know, insane?"
"You hurt me so, Pancake. Your word's like a sting in my heart. Nah, I'm not insane.. well, everyone in the cog thinks I'm insane.. but what do they know?"
"So.. you aren't insane? Also.. Pancake..?"
"Not by a long shot. I'm free as a bird. Hmm may as well speak my crime.. though in my defense it was self defense and the whore deserved it.. Killed mommy, and will kill daddy to when I get out"
"When? Don't you mean if?"
"When. Clean your ears. I'm going to get out of here."
"Take me with you!" He quickly covered his mouth, he had gone from authorizing King of Neverland to a scared and cowardly child all to quickly. ".. I can be of use to you?"
"As what?"
"I can run, fight, kill.. basically if you ever read the J. M. Barrie version of me, it's much closer then the" He shudders. "Disney one.."
"Aww and I so wanted to see you in tights?"
"You can kill me and my corpse would still deny that.. though they'd be more stylish then this ugly gown, Died-And-Sad Blue isn't my color at all.."
Jerome looked down in the vent, no one bothered with him. He didn't see anything, just darkness. The voice was further down. Strange was interesting. He tortured inmates to cure them of insanity in the Asylum but, also creates monsters and makes people believe their fairy tales.. it was funny to him at how ironic that was.
Peter Pan was twisted up, but Jerome had heard of his story when the drunken, nagging whore, wasn't so drunk and nagging.. back when his cowardly brother stayed near him and listened.. Peter spoke of Jeremiah, it was just a name.. he shouldn't be as bitter about it. The little rat was gone, hopefully dead in a ditch somewhere. "I'd say ya got yourself a deal, Pancake. But unfortunately, you're down there and I'm up here.."
"True.. guess until I'm tame and broken in like their dog, we're out of luck.. And no I'd die before I'm tamed by anyone.. especially people I hate and people that try to think themselves as masters when really they are weaker than a gold fish out of water and lower than scum on someone's shoe."
"I like how ya talk.. now, tell me more about what you were writing. Also while you're at it, tell me about Neverland"
The two talked through the night, mostly Peter talking about himself, his adventures, and Neverland. Jerome spoke of Haley's Circus, it wasn't as nice as one would like to hear. Only stopping when they were bothered. Finally one of them fell asleep, neither would say who.. maybe they both fell into a sleep.
Slowly he began to take the tortures, so Jerome could help him remember who he was.
But a problem with a desperate man who was slipping into insanity... they'd trust anyone. Even Pan who was supposedly the most clever demonic trickster was being tricked by the mad clown prince of Arkham and he was foolish enough to believe the voice that actually pretended to care..
Maybe Jerome does care, at least enough to know about Pan's story, how similar it was to the story the drunk whore was slightly sober enough to read to him and his cowardly twin. Yet it was also different. Captain Hook was Killian Jones, Peter was more brutal and dark then even the original story, and how he spoke of Neverland... it was almost a shame that he would allow such a fun legend get his fractured mind break more and more like cracking glass until it shatters. Only he will know Pan's truth.. and really it made him grin, Pan's little secrets will stay with him and if he wanted the other boy broken.. maybe. He didn't know himself.
Peter put his trust in the wrong man. And he was at Jerome's mercy.