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iovelore · 3 years

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❝ MORTAL TALES ❞ ( O1 )

summary and word count: a certain fae can’t help but find amusement in the youngest elfhame’s prince‘s frustration. wc — 1493

pairings: the cruel prince!cardan greenbriar x fem!reader

contents and warnings: jealousy, hinting of threesome, mentions of knife (nothing extreme), suggestive content, mutual pining-ish, fluffy?

a/n: i used tcp cardan because i couldn’t see any context of y/n being used in a fic in the other books (i also need it for the next part </3). i tried my best to include the tail bit since it didn‘t come out right, ill add it in either part 2/3. cardan is a bit ooc (i made him a bit idk how to put it besides: sub?man whore. because i believe that’s what he is 😁). and y/n resembles jude just a little bit with the blade thing, but only a little because jude is neither very flirty or open up about her sexuality (more so in the first book) and that’s what i made y/n like.

also, since this was more in y/n’s perspective, next part will be more so cardans <3

Y/N's legs crossed as she leaned her head on locke's shoulder, while Poppy, a half-faerie: who Locke has shown great interest in— for all the wrong reasons — sat before them and told them of the mortal tales her father would recite to her every night or the ones she gathered on her own from her adventures back where the humans lived.

Y/N found them odd: how they all were almost nothing compared to the people here; they were fragile, but she found similar enjoyment in them all nonetheless — and perhaps she had the eldest duarte to blame for her obsession with all things mortal, and Poppy's tales weren't helping either — which has unfortunately gained her the harsh scowls from the youngest prince of Elfhame.

Though that was no surprise. The boy had never been kind enough for her to realise that his treatment towards her was almost cruel — not that it had mattered, because to Y/N it was a show; she knew where his feelings lay, and it was nothing but amusing. To everyone with eye sight as clear as day, he'd never liked her, but when in class, when he believes her to be ignorant of his stare or his wagging tail; she has a classmate whisper every move his body makes, and it fuelled her heart all too much.

"It's not quite normal there, unlike here, if anyone decided to walk around with it they'd get humiliated till they're six feet under," Poppy snorted, covering her mouth with the back of her palms.

Locke turned to stare behind him, catching sight of the prince and Nicasia — both pouting miserably (one much too obvious than the other), and at that, he smiled. "Oh you’re right, tails are quite odd aren’t they? More so on a prince,"

Y/N shrugged at that, "It's alright, I do think Cardan makes it quite, charming? He’s always wagging it around like some...was it a cat you called it?"

"Yes a cat," Poppy shook her head positively, "though don't say that out loud, I doubt he's as clueless on mortal knowledge as we think he is."

Locke hummed, a smirk growing on his lips as he kept his eyes trained on his friend, Y/N following suite of his gaze and sultry grinning at the boy from afar, ignoring Nicasia — causing his eyes to widen momentarily, before the scowl found home on his face once more.

"He's never quite liked you has he?" His words were soft against her ear, his lips landing gently beneath her ear-lobes, kissing it tenderly as he kept his eyes trained on his flaring friend — who if one squinted, could perhaps see smoke escape his ears, if they ignored the immense swinging of his tail.

Y/N smiled, a small amount of malice lacing her intentions, "hatred I'd say, though he doesn't think I'm that foolish does he?"

Poppy, who now stared at her feet, hands tugging the grass with a blush coating her tanned features, "he's looked like he wanted to murder Locke."

Y/N snickered, a sickeningly sweet one at that, as she lowly muttered, "it’s all working then, sweetness."

Later on, when Y/N was left with no one to keep her company — as Locke found himself adorning Poppy and Nicasia's presence, alone — she took notice of the emptiness of Locke's home. It was beautiful, nothing as extravagant as Hollow Hall, yet she found herself admiring the interior all the same.

And as her hands traced the designs etched on the walls, as if it were a reminiscence of her first time staring upon them, a deep, and rather annoyed cough fleed her from her thoughts.

she stayed in position, her back facing Cardan and only gripping the knife resting on her waist, "now what would the prince need at a time like this? Should he not be in his humble abode by now?"

"Should you not be with your lover boy? Or is it that you enjoy using people like he does?" His tone was hostile as he spat his words, however the light softness that rippled around it was evident and Y/N couldn't help her lips tugging upwards.

She turned around, staring at him — where he leaned cooly against one of the walls — with squinted eyes, faux contempt present in her stare, and he shifted in his spot at her gaze.

She swiftly walked, her steps careful as to not trip on her dress. And when she reached him, she, boldly, placed her hands on his chest, dragging it downwards firmly — and his thumping heart beneath his rib cage could be faintly heard from the short proximity between them.

Y/N titled her head when he clenched his fists, but found a smile etching on her lips when his eyes were lightly fluttering. "Do I really threaten you that much that your hatred towards me is the only thing that keeps you going? It's pathetic truly, especially for a prince."

Cardan gulped, mind hazy at the contact and his body was supported by his tail, that was wrapped roughly around one of his legs. He could not utter the next words without stroking her ego, and it was then he'd wished — though he'd never admit out loud — that he were mortal, because he needed to lie if not keep his mouth shut.

More so with her trapping him, her knees coming forward and slightly spreading his legs, so that the entirety of his body leaned upon the wall. And despite him towering over her due to one of her legs bending in-front of the other, he could not move, catching sight of the shiny blade securely placed on her hips and her rigid grasp on them.

She had been around a certain mortal for too long, he thought, and at that his sneer was present again.

Y/N gently bit her tongue to stifle the giggle from escaping her, "what, cat's got your tongue?"

His lips were tightly sealed, and though he already knew the effects she displayed were affecting him, greatly, he refused to acknowledge her — especially that any movement could cause his legs to move slightly forward and brush . . .

She shook her head with a light hearted laugh that had his heart beating just a little bit faster, just a little bit. Her hands releasing the grip she had on her blade, before placing it on his cheek and patting him smoothly.

"You're quite humorous you know, would be a shame if you wasted all that energy on 'hating' me when it could be used for something else, you decide, my prince." she said, her tone sensual and low, before gradually stepping away allowing room (only a small amount at that) for the boy before her to breathe, she let one of her fingers crawl delicately on his hollow cheek bones, that though looked sharp, were as soft as anything could be.

Cardan's eyes widened ever so slightly, now registering her words, "are you flirting with me?" He asked. The space between them now slightly obvious, and he hated it — almost as much as he pretends to loathe her.

Y/N raised her brows, crossing her arms in an unlikely childish manner before nodding, "you're quite oblivious you know? Yes."

"Well," the confirmation enabled a smirk to appear on his face, only to be dismissed by her voice, again.

"Well? Is that all? Because I have things to do, and if my offer does not interest you then I'll gladly leave and find another willing volunteer," she purred, ignoring the way his brows harshly and quickly furrowed, creating a crease, "how about Locke? We are reasonably close, and he does not have a tail — which looks a bit foolish, don't you think?"

He was blushing crimson now, red sparklings littering his pale cheeks, but then his lips curled up — however, he does not look as frighting as he's expecting to be, he knew that, especially with her knees still resting between his thighs (which is all he's trying to drift his mind from at the moment).

"I don't see anything off with it, I've been told it makes one interesting. You've spent too much time with mortals and those alike." Cardan's jaw clenched and his chest was rising a lot more than it was a few minutes before.

Y/N pursed her lips, "Well then, show me how interesting one can get." She leaned forward, her breath fanning atop his lips and he found his own hitching.

His eyes were wandering from her eyes, which he secretly adored, to her lips, and he subconsciously nodded, leaning forward.

Only then, her hands rested on his chest, pushing him away slightly and his head came in contact with the wall yet again, and he had to bite his bottom lips in hopes that she had no idea how much he’d needed her, all of her.

Y/N stepped backwards, finally standing straight. Her hands on her side once more and she gave the prince an alluring smile, "I'll see you later, cardan."

He glared at the spot she had been standing in once she’d left, and he knew that it was a silly game she’s playing.

And what is a game if it involves one player?

#the cruel prince #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #nicasia #jude duarte #vivienne duarte #taryn duarte #cardan greenbriar x reader #holly black #prince cardan #jude x cardan #reader insert #Locke

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madamebaggio · 4 years

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Notes: Previously...

I also find very funny that I said Jon would take care of Sansa in the next chapter and everybody’s mind just went straight to the gutter. Honestly guys... This has a M rating... LOL

***

Chapter 3

Sansa woke up feeling confused and groggy. Her body felt heavy and she was convinced someone had given her poppy milk the day before. She remembered having a headache, so she’d probably had some before going to bed.

But… Why couldn’t she remember doing that?

Sansa sat up on her bed, and noticed she was alone. Jon must have left for his morning training, even though she couldn’t remember him coming to bed.

She looked out the window and saw it wasn’t as early as she’d thought it’d be.

How long had she slept?

That was when she remembered! She’d fainted the day before.

Oh Seven, how embarrassing.

She’d been dealing with that headache and then she argued with Jon and fainted! It’d been before the midday meal… Had she slept all this time?

The door opened and a maid entered. “Your Grace!” She smiled at Sansa. “I was coming to wake you up.”

“How long have I slept?” She wanted to know.

“Almost a whole day.” The maid told her simply.

“What?” Sansa sprung from the bed. “A whole day?”

“Almost.” The maid pointed out again. “It’s hardly an hour later than you’d normally awake, Your Grace.”

“Oh no! I have so many things to…”

The maid seemed uncomfortable now. “You see… Your Grace… The King…”

Sansa’s head snapped in the girl’s direction. “What has he done?” She asked.

“He asked us to prepare you a bath and breakfast.” The maid hurried to explain. “And that after that he’ll come see you.”

“But I have things to do.” Sansa insisted.

“The Maester and Lady Arya have divided your morning tasks between themselves, Your Grace. They’ll take care of it.”

“Sam and Arya?” What was going on? “Can you tell…” Sansa took a deep breath in. “Can you ask the King to come to see me as soon as possible?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The girl left and Sansa took a deep breath in. What were they all doing? Sam and Arya were now doing her work? What was Jon even thinking?

She needed to calm down. Besides, a bath did sound like a good idea; she still felt a bit groggy.

The water was deliciously hot when she entered the bath, and it smelled like lavender. The bath did wonders for her, especially when one of the maids came back to help her wash her hair.

When she was done, she went to her sollar to find a meal waiting for her, full of her favorite things.

Sansa wasn’t sure what this was all about, but she sat down and started eating. Jon arrived a bit after that.

“Sansa.” He sighed in relief, a small grin on his lips. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. What is going on?”

Jon cleared his throat and pulled a chair to sit down. “You fainted yesterday. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“Sam said it was because you were exhausted.” Jon explained to her. “And it makes perfect sense. You’ve been acting as my hand and mistress of the Keep. You should’ve told me you were overloaded.”

“I’m not.” She protested. “I can do both.”

“You don’t have to.” Jon insisted. “I know you’re doing your best, but I don’t want you to do this at the expense of your health. I would like you to consider working solely as my Hand, and passing the running of the keep to someone else.”

That gave Sansa pause. “You want me to remain as your Hand?”

“Of course.” Jon’s tone was serious. “I need you by my side. I know you were raised to be the lady of the house, but I’d rather you work solely as my Hand.”

Sansa lowered her gaze. “I thought you’d prefer the other way around.”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Sansa.” Jon sighed. “If you want to stay as my Hand, I’d like that very much. However, if you’d rather take care of the keep…”

“No.” She was quick to say. “I do prefer being your Hand. It’s been… Difficult doing both.” She confessed.

Jon reached out and held her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. You also have many things to do.” She explained, eyes on their hands.

“Even if I do… I’ll always worry about you, Sansa.” His thumb was making circles on her hand. “Especially when you faint and I have to grab you.”

She blushed. “Oh please. Is this what happened?”

Jon chuckled. “It was very heroic of me. You should’ve seen it.” He teased lightly.

She laughed. “I’m sure it was.”

They sat in silence for a while. Jon cleared his throat and got up. “Sam and Arya are taking care of your duties for today. Your only work for now is to think of someone that can take over the managing of the keep. Besides that, try and rest. Do whatever you want.” He paused. “Unless it’s more work.”

Sansa arched an eyebrow at him. “Is that an order, My King?”

Jon leaned over the table, plating his hands on its surface, as he looked into her eyes. “Aye. That is an order.”

After he left, Sansa sat there, completely shocked and more than a little bit excited.

***

It had been a long while since Sansa had been able to enjoy an idle day. Her first business was finding someone else to run the keep, but it turned out to be way too easy. Davos’ wife -Marya - had come to the North and she was really competent. Sansa would pass to her these duties.

After that was done… Sansa still had a lot of free time.

At first, she’d thought she’d have nothing to do and would spend the day bored.

It wasn’t the case.

She embroidered -something she loved doing and hadn’t been able to do for a while -and talked to the women around the keep.

It was nice talking and just being around other people.

In the end, the day passed fast.

It was as if she’d blinked and then she was supping with her family.

Jon had arranged an intimate dinner for them. While they normally supped in the main hall with others, tonight it was only the Starks, Sam and Gilly, Davos and Marya, and Tormund.

They were laughing and talking and things were great.

Sansa wondered if she’d been so tired lately that she hadn’t been able to enjoy simple things like this moment. After everything they’d been through, it’d be a waste to not appreciate these moments to the fullest.

She’d almost forgotten why they’d fought so hard to protect the North. They’d done it for their family, the people they loved.

Sansa didn’t know how long they were talking and drinking, but at some point she rested her cheek on Jon’s shoulder.

“Sansa?” His thumb caressed her cheek. “Are you tired?”

“I didn’t do anything the whole day.” She pointed out.

“I think Sansa’s drunk.” Arya commented, looking amused by the idea.

“I’ll take her to bed.” Jon said getting up and helping Sansa do the same. “Thank you all for the help today.”

“It was our pleasure.” Marya smiled at the King.

Jon guided Sansa through the hallways as she laughed for no reason.

“You look happy.” He commented, a fond smile on his lips.

“It was a great day. I didn’t know I needed this.”

“I’m glad you had the chance to rest.” They’d reached the door to their room. “I’ll get someone to help you out of your dress.”

“There’s no need.” She told him as she dropped her cloak on the bed. “If you can just untie the back for me, I can take care of the rest.”

Jon paused. “Are you sure? Because…”

“I don’t want to wait. Come on, Jon!” She gave him her back, pulling her hair over her shoulder. “Just do this.”

Jon could do this. It was a really simple task. Once he loosened the ties he’d wait somewhere else for her to finish getting undressed.

He took off his glove and started pulling at the laces of her dress.

“Jon?” Sansa called softly.

“Sansa?” He called back, a grin on his lips.

“Thank you for today.” She told him, her voice low and intimate. “I didn’t know how much I needed this.”

“I didn’t know anyone needed this.” Jon admitted. “We’ve been working non-stop for so long, Sansa… And you… You’ve done so much, sacrificed so much for us.” Jon had finished his task and it was time to leave, but… She was there and the night was so quiet… “I wish I could give you the world, Sansa, but -unfortunately- this is all I have to give.”

Sansa was quiet for so long, that Jon feared he’d said something amazingly stupid and she was wondering why she had to…

Sansa turned to him suddenly, arms going around his neck. Jon realized her intent a second before her lips were on his and she was pressing her body against his.

Jon couldn’t believe she was kissing her like this, with all the candles still burning and because she chose to.

And he knew all her kisses, the sweet ones, the careful ones and the hungry ones. When she kissed him like this -open mouthed and urgent - Jon knew they’d have a long night, because her desire fueled his and they would end up stuck on this never ending circle.

Jon really liked those nights.

However, she’d never kissed him in the light like then; Sansa never allowed him to even touch her before the candles were blown out. But she was kissing him, pulling at his clothes and biting his lower lip.

Her urgency made Jon lose his control and, before the thought had fully formed on his head, he was pulling at her clothes.

They’d never been this clumsy before. Clothes got stuck halfway and Jon almost fell down trying to take off his boots. They were both in an insane hurry, like they feared this would end if they didn’t get it done. As if it was a spell that would end by midnight and they’d never know what could have been.

Jon hadn’t even finished taking off his clothes when he picked Sansa up and dropped her on the bed -less charmingly than he’d have wished for. Sansa herself still had some clothes on, but he just had to do this, because he was terrible with words, but maybe like this she’d know how much he loved her.

She had to… Right?

He peeled her stockings and small clothes down her legs, before he kissed the inside of her thighs, brushed his beard against the sensitive skin.

He felt Sansa’s fingers grabbing at his curls as he drank from her, his name a prayer on her lips.

He’d have spent another hour -or three -doing just that, but Sansa pulled him up, bringing his lips to hers, uncaring that her taste was still on them.

Jon’s shirt was thrown away, his pants merely lowered enough to be out of the way, since Sansa wouldn’t let him get too far.

Jon pushed inside her, feeling her hot body receiving him.

“Jon…” She mewled sweetly.

Jon grabbed her waist and rolled them both, so he was on his back and Sansa was on top of her. “Jon!” She screeched, making him chuckle.

He sat up on the bed and cradled her face as he brought her in for a kiss. “Today you can have whatever you want.” He promised against her lips.

Sansa caressed his cheek. “Even you?” She asked.

“You always have me, Sansa.” He assured her.

There were tears in her eyes when she kissed him and Jon was mesmerized by them. Even after he helped her out of her shift, he couldn’t look away from her eyes.

That night, as Sansa took him, Jon had the mad hope -for the first time ever -that Sansa might love him as well.

***

Notes: Next one is the last one ;)

#madame baggio #crackship #AU #gifs not mine #fanfiction #posted on AO3 #game of thrones #Sansa Stark #jon snow #sansa x jon #sansa stark x jon snow #jonsa #A Whisper in the Dark

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scenecipriano · 3 years

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Curse of The Fold (3)

Chapter Three: Fate’s Hand

Description: The year was 1692, a time where women, children, and men feared for their lives of possibly being accused of witchcraft. Two men though, don’t allow this mass hysteria to come between them. Even though the madness Janus and Roman manage to keep their relationship a secret…That is until the summer of 1692.“The only thing that could hurt us. Is the curse of the fold.”

Characters: Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Remus Sanders, Janus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, and Thomas Sanders

Relationships: Roman/Janus

TW: Unsympathetic Patton, Unsympathetic Remus, major character death, death by hanging, death by fire, executions, witch trials.

Other(s): Based on Salem Witch Trials and not fully historically accurate.

Chapter TW: mentions of hanging, mentioned anxiety attacks/panic attacks.

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February 20th, 1692 Salem Massachusetts

It was another warm day, Roman wanted to go on another stroll like he had four days prior, (He wanted to see if Janus would be by the stream again) but his father said he needed him to stay behind. Roman forces a smile as he passes out bread and wine to his father’s churchgoers, he would rather be doing anything else than this, his father never made Remus do this tedious task.

“Are this bread and a small bit of wine for me or are you going to crush it some more in those strong hands of yours?”

Roman felt his heart leap into his throat, he looked up from the ground and felt his face heat up. Standing in front of him was Janus, that same smirk plastered on his scarred and freckled face.

Instead of the white dirty looking long-sleeved shirt and ill-fitting brown pants, he had on the day before, Janus sported a nice button-up short-sleeve white shirt and black slacks. His shoes were polished and the buckles were done up nicely, a black hood attached to a cloak was over Janus’ head, partially hiding his strawberry blonde locks.

“Hello, earth to Roman Harford?” Janus teases.

Roman shakes his head and hands the smaller man the small piece of bread and the small cup of wine. He watches as Janus eats the bread and takes a tentative sip of the wine, Roman forces himself to hold still when a drop of wine is left on Janus’ bottom lip.

Roman looks away when Janus darts his tongue out to lick the last bit of wine away.

“I-I didn’t know that you attended my father’s church services, how have I not noticed you before?”

Janus smiles and lowers his hood, Roman still feels as if his breath has been knocked out of him from the shorter man’s beauty.

“I only attend on Wednesdays, I don’t have the time on Sundays because I travel to the next town over to sell the remedies I’ve made for all kinds of ailments. I know you’re not supposed to work on the lord's day, but it’s the only time I’m not busy,” Janus explains, he steps to stand next to Roman allowing the next person to take their bread and wine.

“That would explain it… Normally I’m not here on Wednesday, but my father’s hand-picked choir boy was… accused.”

Roman whispers the last part, not wanting to start an uproar for mentioning ‘witches’ during church time. He shudders at the memory of Virgil being dragged away last night by the Marshall, Roman hopes his father can save Virgil from the rope.

“Such a shame, is it not? These poor people… do you believe this choir boy should have been…” Janus takes a conspiratorial look around before whispering, “accused.”

Roman couldn’t help the small smile that broke out across his face, something was amusing about Janus making fun of the way he treats the trials and how he chooses to speak of them.

“No… He’s just… A little unusual. He has these attacks, you see. Virgil… that’s his name by the way… but… Virgil has these moments of not being able to breathe and sobbing uncontrollably while screaming. Before he was… taken away, he had an attack and lashed out hatefully against the stand-in priest for my father,” Roman pauses to offer a woman a small piece of bread along with her own cup of wine.

“The… The priest accused Virgil of allowing Satan in his body… came up with this whole tale of how Virgil made a deal… I visited him this morning and he was fine, still shaky due to the circumstances but he was fine…”

Janus nods as he downs the rest of his wine, he grimaces at the taste, ‘ Surely the blood of Christ would taste better than this,’ he thinks as he stuffs the rest of the bread in his mouth, chewing quickly before swallowing.

“I don’t believe this… Virgil was inflicted by Lucifer himself. A girl around our age is prone to those same fits, I was able to help her overcome them by giving her a remedy that had poppy’s and valerian mixed with some boiled water and sugar to add for taste. I still have some left if you would like a bottle to take to your friend.”

Roman blinks and stares at Janus for a moment, he couldn’t tell if the smaller man was being serious or not, but he decides to humor him.

“Okay… We’ll wait, you can give it to me and I’ll hold onto it. When he has another fit I’ll give it to him and see if it helps him.”

Janus smiles and bows his head, Roman fights the urge to tilt his head back up so he can stare into those beautiful mismatched eyes.

“Very well… Meet me tonight, by the stream where you first saw me. I’ll be waiting there with the mixture,” Janus hands Roman his empty cup and turns to leave.

He stops and glances over his shoulder, his pink lips tilted up into a small smirk, “Don’t keep me waiting, Roman Harford, I’m not known for my patience,” he says as he turns away pulling his hood back over his head.

Roman watches as Janus walks away, the smaller man doesn’t have to fight through the citizens to make a path for him, not wishing to be in Janus’ way as he makes his trek back into the woods from where he came.

“Roman? What’re you staring at, kiddo?”

Roman turns back, his father standing in front of him. The long line of parishioners now disbursed after receiving their bread and wine.

“Oh… Nothing, there were just some birds around is all,” Roman lies.

He wasn’t sure why he chose to lie to his father, but something told him that lying about Janus’ presence was the best way to go right now.

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That night, Roman waits for his brother and father to fall asleep before setting out to meet Janus at the stream. Shockingly the night was warm, albeit not that warm but it was warm enough for Roman to not need all kinds of layers as he needed the days before and after he met Janus within the woods.

Roman slowly makes his way through the woods, judging only by his sense of hearing to make his way through safely. He thought about bringing a lantern with him but was scared the light would awaken someone.

“Some used to say that I’d never scale this mountain, now that I’m close they shut their eyes and draw their curtains~.”

Roman stops when he hears that angelic voice, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his face, ‘ Like a siren luring a sailor into a deadly trap…’

He trudges ahead as Janus’ singing fills the once quiet woods, “Those who don’t believe, will always encourage defeat~.”

The singing grows closer as does the sound of the trickling stream that Roman caught Janus at all those days ago.

Once the sound of the stream is practically roaring through his ears, Roman can’t help but take refuge behind the same tree he had four days prior.

“They’ll scream and shout and scold, for the curse of the fold~.”

Roman peeks out and inhales sharply, there stood Janus, in the same clothes from earlier next to the stream of water. Moonlight bathed him in its pale light, making him look even more breathtaking within the darkness of the night.

“I know you’re there, Roman. What did I tell you about keeping me waiting?”

Roman feels his face heat up as he steps out from behind the tree, he offers Janus a sheepish smile as he steps forward.

‘ Lord help me in the presence of this gorgeous man.’

“I apologize… I just wanted to hear the beautiful singing that I’ve missed for the past four days,” says Roman, trying his best to put on a smooth tone in hopes of flustering Janus for once.

Janus fights off a blush as he plasters on a smirk, “Well… Maybe if you come to visit me more often you’ll be blessed to hear my singing. Until then, I believe I owe you something for your friend's ailment, yes?”

Roman nods, if he were being completely honest, he had forgotten that the intentional reason for this meeting was for Virgil.

Janus pulls a small bottle from the pocket of his cloak, the liquid on the inside was pale pink, it was sealed with a normal brown cork.

“When you give this to him, make sure you only give about a tablespoon and that’s it. Too much could make him sick if it helps him and you need more than just let me know.”

Roman takes the bottle and stuffs it into the pocket of his pants, he hesitates for a moment before speaking again.

“How will I find you, if he needs more? You’re not always going to be at this stream… and you won’t know when I’ll need some more.”

Janus smirks and turns away from the taller man, “You’ll find me… All you’ll have to do is let fate guide you. I hope your friend comes out of this alive, Roman, have a safe walk back.”

Roman watches as Janus heads off into the woods, the red-head couldn’t help but bite his lip. Janus was a strange one, Roman couldn’t help but feel himself being pulled to him, wanting to find out more about this mysterious man who lives in the woods.

He takes a breath and turns his back, Roman looks behind him once more before making the quiet trek back home.

The one thing they both missed was the pair of green eyes that were watching them behind the bushes close by.

They both missed the manic smile that spread across a mustached face.

“Well, Ro-Ro seems to have a new friend… I wonder how this is going to play out.”

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A/N: Early update boop!

~TAGLIST~ @imma-potatoo

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders mentioned #tw unsympathetic patton #tw unsympathetic remus #tw mentions of hanging #tw implied anxiety attacks/panic attacks #tw major character death #not in this chapter #but since its up top #might as well tag it

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ryik-the-writer · 6 years

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CHAPTER 15: Trapped

When trapped in a car with a decomposing body by a blood-thirsty turkey, there's nothing much to do but talk...

Previous Chapters

Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy

Chapter 2: Scars (Felix’s Story)

Chapter 3: Day One

Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies

Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars

Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress

Chapter 7: Operation Spotless!

Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down

Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil

Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake

Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1

Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2

Chapter 13: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 3

Chapter 14. Recovery

Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more

Chapter 15: Trapped

A03

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“Oh my god.”

“Calm down.”

“H-he’s dead.”

“No kidding.”

“We’re going to die!”

Pan shot a look at the frantic Wendy Darling.

“How are we going to die?”

“Death by turkey or…inhaling corpse fumes take your pick!”

Pan snatched her forward, shaking her by the shoulders. “You need to calm down right now!”

Wendy slapped his shoulders and didn’t stop. “You calm the bloody hell down this is your fault!”

“My damn fault?” he yelled as he tried to still her hands. “Don’t you even think about turning this on me you fucking crow!”

Before Wendy could scream back at him the turkey that could be the reason they met their end pecked against the window. Wendy gasped and slid back until she was pressing Pan into the opposite door. They held their breath as the glass started to crack, both too terrified to come up with a plan.

With a snarl, the turkey stopped, and returned to watch them from a few feet away.

Pan and Wendy sagged against each other in relief, only realizing that they were too close when she felt Pan’s heart pounding against her back.

She slid away and kept her eyes on Pan, knowing that if she had to see Jekyll’s decaying body she’d might faint. She’d be damn if she did something like that for Pan to hold over her head after all of this.

“Okay,” Wendy gasped, pushing her hair from her face. “Did you bring a cellphone?”

Pan closed his eyes for a moment before shaking his head. “Left it at the office. You?”

Wendy slumped against the seat. “It fell out while we were running.”

Pan rolled his eyes and slumped beside her, glancing around for a towel or a stray piece of clothing to throw over Jekyll’s head so that he wouldn’t have to stare into his beady eyes. However Jekyll had kept his car in pristine condition and there wasn’t even a wrapper on the ground.

“OCD dick.” Pan growled.

“I beg your pardon?” she gasped.

“Not you, him.” Pan scoffed, nodding at Jekyll.

Wendy grimaced, the sight of the dried hole in his temple filling her stomach with bile.

“It looks like he was shot.” Wendy gulped.

Pan followed her gaze, frowning when he discovered she was right and saw his brains splattered on the passenger window.

Wendy massaged her temples as she fought for her sanity. Between the smell and being trapped in a small car with a corpse and Pan with a flesh-hungry turkey just outside, she was understandably starting to get edgy.

“Okay, we can’t just sit here,” she said.

“Oh you sure?” Pan deadpanned. “I was really starting to get comfortable.”

“We have to make a distraction, have…to run again or something.”

“Because that worked out so well a second ago?”

“Because if we don’t we’re going to end up like him!” Wendy spat in Jekyll’s direction.

Pan took hold of her shoulders again, shaking her until she stopped sputtering.

“We are not going to end up like this asshole,” Pan reassured, squeezing her shoulders. “We are going to live, but if you don’t calm down I’m going to kill you myself.”

Wendy slapped his hands away. “Don’t threaten me. I’m sick of everyone doing that.”

“Well it seems to calm you down.” He shrugged. “You really should think about taking a yoga class.”

“How can you joke at a time like this!”

“And now you’re hysterical again.” Pan sighed.

“Oh…shove it!” Wendy spat.

Pan snorted, leaning against the door and following the angry turkey as it circled the car.

“August will have to come back eventually.” Pan concluded. “He’ll notice the mess and call Graham. Finding Jekyll might distract him enough so that we don’t get our arses locked up.”

“Yes, let’s hope the site of a dead body leaves your criminal record polished!” Wendy spat, running her hands through her short hair nervously.

Pan was right though; she needed to calm down. Having a panic attack in a small car with a dead Jekyll and Pan would probably lead to her jumping out and getting pecked to death by the turkey.

“What are we going to do?” Wendy sighed, breathing carefully through her mouth to avoid the smell.

Pan settled beside her, careful not to let their shoulders touch. “Got a pack of cards?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Wendy snorted, though she subconsciously felt inside her pockets. She felt the remains of a pack of gum and a crumpled receipt from the diner.

A thick quiet followed, and it was more terrifying than both the body and turkey. Wendy hadn’t been able to handle silence well lately.

Wendy nodded to Jekyll. “What happened between you two?”

Pan stared at her, trying to keep a passive expression but his eyes wavered.

“Nothing.” Pan stated simply.

“Poppy cock.” Wendy scoffed.

“He took Belle, I was trying to find her, that’s all.” Pan growled, fidgeting in his seat.

“I repeat, poppy cock.” Wendy said. “Everyone I’ve met in the last week is…connected! You and Belle…then you and Jekyll…even you and Mr. Gold—”

“Small town!” Pan reminded her with a snarl. “Everyone has something to do with each other. It’s not a big deal, and sure as hell isn’t worth talking about.”

“…you owe me.” Wendy muttered.

“Oh my god…are your seriously pulling that card?” Pan exclaimed, rubbing his face aggressively.

“You swore if I helped you and Belle you’d tell me why she was taken.”

“I...thought I’d be dead before that happened.” Pan mused.

Wendy took a deep breath. “Alright, let me put this another way: I have had three panic attacks this week. I chopped off most my hair,” she lifted the remains of her hair for emphasis, “and if I have to sit in here with you two,” she pointed at Jekyll, “so for the love of any and everything holy, bloody humor me.”

Pan smothered a smirk, finding her disheveled state inappropriately amusing. It reminded him about the first day she stepped into the office. She had tried to seem all high and mighty, she was actually stressed out of her mind. He passion had infuriated him at first, but he had calmed, and made it a personal mission to keep her in a state of fury.

“Fine, since we might be here a will.” Pan agreed with a sigh. “But as warning, any mental scaring you may receive after this conversation is not on me.”

Wendy blinked, surprised Pan would give in so easily. “Deal.” She agreed. “Now…you and Jekyll?”

Pan glanced at the decaying carcass of his former foe.

“We fucked,” Pan answered blandly. “For investigative reasons more than pleasure.”

Pan’s words sunk deep in Wendy’s brain, followed by an unpleasant and very disturbing image.

“Oh my god…” Wendy gagged.

“You’re not one of them, are you?” Pan spat, a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Oh no,” Wendy grimaced. “No never. I just…thought you had better taste than…” she motioned to Jekyll with her eyes.

“Like I said, investigative reasons.” Pan muttered, turning to stare out the window.

“I’m sorry,” Wendy apologized quickly when she sensed he was shutting down. “Please continue?”

Pan snorted, folding his arms behind his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Wendy blushed and curled her legs under her as he relayed his tale.

“He was hired as a coroner around the same time I was brought on to the paper. I was barely there a week when a story fell into my lap.” Pan smiled fondly, a reminiscent look in his deep green eyes.

“The…mayor story?” Wendy inquired, recalling a few tales of his successes during her first week at the Mirror.

“Nah,” Pan waved her off. “That came later. This was a bit more terrifying.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

Pan wagged his eyebrows at her. “Because that’s what made it most rememberable.”

Wendy rolled her eyes and made a mental note to look of the warning signs of a psychopath when they got out of this.

“So,” Pan began, a new life in his voice, “right after he started working at the hospital, people started disappearing. First it was a car crash survivor, a woman just passing through. She had gotten banged up and was ready for release the next day.”

Wendy nodded intently.

“Then…she just disappeared. Even the video footage on the security camera had crashed just before her disappearance. It was so bizarre, but Graham wrote it off as an unauthorized check-out and kept a search out for her.”

Wendy stared at him, his tale making her skin crawl already.

“A week later, the same thing happened to a local. She injured herself gardening—twisted her leg pretty bad— and had to be put in a sling. She would have been checked out the next day.”

“But she didn’t.” Wendy concluded.

“Same pattern. Disappeared the night they were supposed to be released, glitched security camera. It was personal now, and Graham went into search-dog mode trying to find them both.”

“But it was Jekyll all along,” Wendy connected, “When did Graham find out?”

Pan’s fingers drummed against his jagged pants knee, and he licked his lower lip.

“He didn’t, I did.”

Wendy blinked, the information barely surprising her, but still adding a sense of tension to the story.

“Back then I was the newbie, the grub work guy, only allowed to cover sewing meetings and annoying garbage like that.”

Wendy snorted, recalling that her first week of mind-numbing boredom at the paper was by Pan’s hand. “Sounds familiar.”

“Consider it initiation.” Pan waved off before continuing. “I started doing a conspiracy board in the back, trying to figure out why two women who otherwise had nothing in common would go missing back-to-back. I even lifted the camera footage from the police station to try to find something that Graham hadn’t seen.”

“What was it?”

“I saw that about ten minutes before each of the women went missing, Jekyll would walk by the rooms. Wouldn’t go in, just go by. Right afterwards is when the footage would glitch and fast-forward twenty minutes.”

“So he would pause the footage and go back to take the women?”

“I thought that at first too,” Pan said, his hand now rubbing up and down his pants leg, “But I’ll get to that.”

“Okay,” Wendy nodded. “So then…”

“Then,” Pan continued gleefully, “I decided to do some more personal investigation.”

Wendy grimaced. “That’s when you began your…relationship with him?”

Pan scoffed bitterly, and Wendy noticed how his shoulders tensed.

“It wasn’t a relationship,” Pan said. “It was a farce to find out how he was involved in the kidnappings. Nothing more.”

“From your point of view.” Wendy pointed out. She was surprised when Pan didn’t respond with a half-cocked remark. If anything, he looked a bit uncomfortable, and it made a guilty chill run up Wendy’s spine. She’d never seen him so distressed.

“Pan, did Jekyll do something to you?” Wendy asked carefully.

Pan gulped, forcing a cocky smile even though Wendy could feel his hands shaking. “Let’s just say he didn’t like keeping his hands to himself.”

Wendy’s own hand creeped up to stroke her short locks. “He hadn’t changed much then.” When she looked up again, she found Pan staring at her. Together, they turned to Jekyll’s corpse. It was so easy to forget that the pile of rotting flesh in front of them was making their lives a living Hell a week ago. That even in death is phantom fingers could still squeeze the life out of them.

“It’s nice, by the way.”

Wendy looked back at him, her fingers slipping from her locks. “Pardon?”

“Your hair,” Pan fidgeted, not quite meeting her eyes. “It’s different.”

Wendy waited for an insult to follow but Pan remained docile, leaving an opening for her to thank him or let the comment lie.

“He kept touching it,” Wendy admitted, nodding offhandedly to Jekyll. “The whole time we were under the library he wouldn’t stop touching my hair.”

Pan sent a searing look at Jekyll’s corpse. “See his tastes never changed.”

“What does that mean?”

“Blonde hair. That was the connection. The car crash survivor and local: both were blondes.”

Wendy felt her stomach turn and before she could stop herself she was lurching her stomach contents on the car floor.

“Oh…for the love of…” Pan stopped with a frustrated growl and allowed Wendy to finish before he looked around for something Wendy could clean herself up with. He held his breath as he crawled over Jekyll to reach the dashboard consol.

“Pan!” Wendy coughed when she saw what he was doing.

“You want puke all over your chin?” he shot back, using the tip of his finger to open the console. Nothing. Looks like there was only one other option. Sucking in his stomach, Pan reached to grab the scarf around Jekyll’s neck. It came off surprisingly easy and Pan fell back in his seat with a satisfied huff.

“The shit I go through for you.” He growled as he threw the scarf at Wendy.

“Likewise.” Wendy said, hesitating before wiping her mouth furiously and dropping the garment onto the floor to soak up her vomit. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“The realization that you were almost a target probably,” Pan shrugged, staring out the dusty, cracked window.

“How did you figure out the connection?” Wendy inquired, hoping the continuation of the story would distract them from her current embarrassment.

“Every time we had a…coupling…”

“Oh god.” Wendy coughed, breathing slowly.

“Shut up. He would play with my hair,” He met Wendy’s unsettled expression. “It’s not as romantic as it sounds. Anyway, it just sort of clicked one night. Both women were blondes; the only real connection they had. I just didn’t know how they were connected to him until I snuck into Graham’s office to do an extensive background check.

“He didn’t think to do that?”

“No, he did,” Pan said, smiling cockily. “He just didn’t know what I found.”

Wendy rolled her eyes, though she was happy to see the smile back on his face.

“I found out he was from your neck of the woods originally,” Pan specified. “And that his record appeared squeaky clean.”

“But you found…”

“A seemingly innocent story about the death of a woman attached to his file. Most of the details weren’t there but I have my ways of digging up unwanted information.” He wagged his eyes at her and Wendy couldn’t help the tug of her lips.

“I found out she died from a lover’s quarrel gone wrong. He claimed she fell from the four-story window of his apartment, but the woman’s father insisted that he drug her up there to kill her, or some crap like that.” Pan said with a wave of his hand. “Either way, the father had enough power to cover the matter up for reputation’s sake. He sent Jekyll to the states with a glowing reference and he was able to wreak havoc here.”

“No one suspected he was a homicidal maniac.” Wendy mused, sparing a side glance at the corpse.

“The last step was to tie it all together with solid evidence.”

“Solid evidence?”

“Where would a mentally unstable coroner keep his victims?” Pan challenged.

Wendy gulped. “Where no one would think to look.”

“Yep. His morgue.” Pan concluded, his face void of the glee from before.

Wendy could tell just from his face that the story didn’t have the triumph ending she was hoping for.

“You did find them?” Wendy pressed hesitantly.

“In the drawers.” Pan frowned. “I had to sneak past his assistant to get in there though.”

“His assistant…” Wendy paused, recalling the tall man who nearly snapped her neck in half in the library.

“Poole Pinnock,” Pan snarled. “I have no bloody idea how Jekyll kept him by his side, but I found out that after Jekyll would pick a target, Poole mess with the security footage to cover up Jekyll taking them.”

“You had the proof and took him down?” Wendy concluded.

Pan was quiet for a moment and he wouldn’t meet Wendy’s eyes. “Well…not exactly.”

Wendy recognized the tone of a guilty man. “What did you do?”

“I…set him up…using Tink.”

“Tink? What?” Wendy exploded. “Was she in on it?”

“Afterwards.” Pan scoffed uneasily.

“You deliberately put her in harm’s way?” Wendy gawked at him. “She’s your friend, how could you?”

“Hey,” Pan fought defensively. “She got burned on an expresso machine, I rushed her to the hospital. If she just happened to be the type of person Jekyll was stealing, that wasn’t my problem.”

“It is your problem!” Wendy yelled at him.

“She was never in any danger!” Pan defended with an air of annoyance. “I was watching the situation the whole time! I had Nolan and Graham on it and Jekyll and Pinnock were taken down…and we got Tink out of the morgue drawer before she suffocated.”

“And what did Tink have to say about being part of your insane plan?”

Pan mused for a moment. “I think she called me a bastard forty times, and I’m pretty sure she locked Felix in his room for a month just to punish me.”

Wendy scrubbed a hand over her face, beginning to feel claustrophobic again as her annoyance with Pan grew.

“I saved a lot of lives!” Pan insisted. How could she not see that?

“You think using one of your friends as bait without their consent makes you some kind of hero?”

“…yeah! Because it did!”

“I’m sure Tink would beg to differ!” Wendy fought. “You can’t just use people Pan! It was wrong with Tink, and…bloody hell it was even wrong with Jekyll!”

Pan gawked at her, looking back and forth between her and the corpse of his former conquest. “You’re defending him after what he did to those women? To us?”

“Of course not,” Wendy sniffed. “But…maybe you didn’t have to play with his heart like that, no matter how horrid the man was—” Wendy was cut off when Pan suddenly edged right into her face, forcing her against the dusty window.

“Don’t you fucking dare try to humanize him.” Pan growled as Wendy began to panic. “Do you have any idea how depraved that bastard was, why he did what he did? How he did what he did!”

Wendy couldn’t speak, could barely think with Pan’s intense green eyes bearing into hers.

“He would tie them down, scalp them, and then leave them in morgue freezers to bleed to death.”

Wendy blinked, her nails digging into the leather seating. “I-I…”

“He was a monster you damn crow! I made sure there was irrefutable evidence against him so that he could hang for what he did to this town!”

“H-hang?” Wendy croaked.

“Small-town justice,” Pan said, leaning back and giving Wendy much-needed breathing room.

“He seemed pretty alive the last time we saw him.” Wendy swallowed, bringing her knees to her chest.

“Pullock knew how to pick locks,” Pan concluded, eyeing her posture. “They got out of town that night with a sea of angry townsfolks just behind them.”

Wendy glanced at the corpse. All that trouble—all that death—just to have him slip through justice’s fingers.

What a waste.

“Then what happened?” Wendy inquired, though not as earnestly when the story started.

“Nothing. The assheads got away, Tink didn’t speak to me for a month, and I earned my place on the paper. The end.”

Wendy gave him a peculiar look. “No it’s not. How did he get back here? Why did he take Belle? How does she fit into any of this?”

Pan held a hand up, hiding his annoyed expression by turning to the window. “Another story for the next time we’re locked in a car.”

Wendy frowned. “That’s not fair. You promised me the story on your history with Jekyll.”

“And I gave you just that,” Pan spat. “Everything else after that is…”

“Collateral damage?” Wendy mocked.

“Not your business.” Pan retorted sourly.

Wendy studied him for a moment. She could just see his expression in the dusty glass and connected the reason he brought his story to an end.

“You don’t know what happened after he left.” Wendy concluded. “You story ended there, and anything he did afterwards was beyond you.”

Pan shot around to face her again. This time his eyes were squinted with rage and—though he would deny it—fear.

“Nothing goes beyond me.” Pan said firmly. “I will find out what he was doing back here before Graham, before anyone! Don’t you ever underestimate me!”

“Would you get off me!” Wendy pushed him back against his door. “Why do you act like an ass whenever you become intimidated.”

“Intimidated?” Pan scoffed, brushing off his jacket. “By what, you?”

“By failure.” Wendy corrected, watching as his confident smirk faded slightly.

“Let me tell you something no one has seemed to have told you yet,” he said in soft anger. “Peter Pan never fails. Just you watch.”

“I’ll endeavor to be patient.” Wendy snipped, glancing out the window to see their feathery friend making its way to her side of the car.

“Guess we should figure out a plan now.” Wendy suggested, wanting to regain some kind of peace in the cramped car.

“Nah, we better stay tight.” Pan shrugged, leaning back against the door much too comfortably.

“I rather not. I’m starting to get used to the smell.” Wendy said without taking her eyes off of the murderous turkey. She felt a chill up her spine when a weight suddenly dropped in her lap. She looked down in horror and found Pan spreading out like a cat.

“What the bloody actual hell are you doing?” she exclaimed, holding her heads above his head.

“I’m bored. It’s your turn to bare your soul to me.”

Wendy rolled her eyes, her cheeks scorching. “Unlike you I don’t have any secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets Wendy Darling,” Pan mused, adjusting himself more comfortably against her lap. “I’m sure you have a few hurrahs to tell about Edward.”

“Edward?” Wendy’s glare melted into astonishment. How odd. She hadn’t thought about him since he left after the Cruella de Vil incident.

“Yeah. Tell me…about your first time.”

Wendy looked down at the evil man in her lap. His eyes were flaring with mischief, ready to rip her a part.

“No.” Wendy said simply, trying to uproot him from her lap. Damn he was heavy. Or just too stubborn to move without his answer.

“Hey, that’s not fair.” He mocked in a terrible rendition of her voice.

“Oh shove off.” Wendy snarked.

“Come on. Can’t be any worse than me and Jekyll.”

Wendy dared look up at the corpse. “You have me there.”

“So…” Pan licked his lips. “Edward.”

Wendy blinked, feeling embarrassed and suffocated with him this close. Throughout their time in the car he had kept his distance, as if he didn’t want to be touched as he told her the disturbing events of his earlier years. Now it was as if he needed a form of comfort from her. That, or he just wanted to make her feel as uncomfortable as he could.

That wasn’t hard at all.

“Nothing…ever happened between us.” Wendy stated, knowing good and well the vague information wouldn’t satisfy him.

“I thought so.” Pan laughed. “That buttoned-up bloke was overflowing with sexual frustration. Surprised your old man left you alone with him.”

Wendy stared at him. She had never gotten that kind of vibe from Edward. He was only trying to unnerve her.

“Don’t be vulgar.” Wendy responded, trying to decide where to put her hands now that her lap was occupied. She decided across her chest was the safest place.

“So when you say nothing ever happened, you mean…” Pan pressed mischievously.

“I mean…nothing happened.” Wendy replied with a false dramatic flair. “We kissed on the cheeks, held hands only occasionally, and he never saw me with my shoes off.”

Pan burst out into laughter, loud enough that Wendy feared it would attract the turkey. Luckily the feathered beast remained occupied and Wendy was, unfortunately, able to continue her tale.

“Okay, I needed that,” Pan sighed when he calmed. “Alright, your relationship with him is apparently a bust.”

“Was a bust,” Wendy corrected sternly. “We only dated because our fathers wanted us to. It wasn’t bad but just…”

“Unbearable?”

“Boring.” Wendy admitted. Saying the word lifted a very small, but still present weight from Wendy’s heart. She never disliked Edward, but she had never really wanted to be with him. He played everything safe, and while he never frowned upon her hobbies and interests, he never shared them. They weren’t compatible by any means.

“Damn.” Pan commented. “That sucks. So who else?”

“Who else…what?”

“Did you date, duh. You may be incredibly annoying, but you’re not bad of a looker. You had to have few courters.”

“Well we can’t all have exciting, dangerous relationships like you.” Wendy teased.

Pan frowned in return. “Jekyll and I weren’t in a relationship, alright.”

“But he wasn’t the last.” Wendy stated, certain she was right.

“Well, it’s not like he turned me off to the idea of human companionship.” Pan agreed with a bite of bitterness.

Wendy managed to bury a snort. “Lily Tigress, right?”

Pan looked up at her. “What about her?”

“You two…at some point?” Wendy shrugged.

“On occasion.” Pan mused. “She can hold her drink and she’s good a poker. We enjoy each other’s company. She’s not ready to settle and neither am I.”

“Tink?”

“God no.” Pan snorted. “She’s Felix-sexual only.”

“…Felix?” she asked a bit more carefully.

“Oh yeah.” He replied, though his voice was heavy with good-natured sarcasm. “And Tink flew in and snatched him up. The only man I ever loved.”

Wendy actually had to laugh, a bizarre thing to do in a car with a corpse and a Pan in ones lap.

“August would be disappointed.” Wendy commented.

“Not really a relationship either.” Pan corrected. “Just slept around is all.”

“You can’t sleep around forever.” Wendt chuckled, her arms relaxing a bit.

“I bet you haven’t slept with anyone ever.” Pan challenged teasingly.

“Excuse me if I take relationships seriously.” Wendy fired back. “And are you seriously virgin-shaming, this late in the 21st century?”

Pan chortled, crossing his arms behind his head. “Of course not.”

“Dating just isn’t my forte, I suppose.” Wendy sighed as she lowered her arms to her side, her fingers just grazing his hair. It was so softly textured and she had an embarrassing urge to run her fingers through it.

Pan felt Wendy’s entire body stiffen. When he looked up at her face he was amused to find her blushing heavily.

“What?” he chortled.

“Nothing,” Wendy denied, flustered. “We just…we need to get out of here. Like I said, I’m getting used to the smell.”

“And here I thought we were having a good time.” Pan sighed as he sat up, leaving Wendy’s lap empty and mind whirling. “I was about to break open a bottle of wine and everything.

They both looked out the window to find the angry turkey pecking harshly at the ground several feet from the car, dirt flying as its beak dug deeper into the earth.

“That’s going to be our skulls if we’re not careful.” Pan mused.

“Your rather optimistic.” Wendy deadpanned.

“Just realistic.” Pan nodded back.

Wendy looked around for something they could use as a weapon. Unfortunately, Jekyll kept his car immaculate.

Wendy mused on this. Even her pristine father had a few odds and ins in his car. It made it more personal, more lived in. Yet there was nothing in this car, not even an air freshener hanging from the mirror. It wasn’t criminal, but was certainly odd.

A shadow moved from the corner of her eye, and Wendy twisted around to see someone just outside the dusty window. With a great scream, she pushed against Pan, and subsequently Pan pushed against the door.

They fell onto the forest floor, Pan hollering as Wendy nearly crushed his legs with her own. Entangled, they looked up to see the turkey barreling toward them with a bloodcurdling screech. Just as it was about to bring its sharp beak on Wendy’s head, a body stepped in front of them, piercing the boot on the leg instead of Wendy.

“Easy Beatrice,” the voice of the body, a man, said. On command, the turkey backed away. Wendy nearly sobbed with relief, and she and Pan both rolled onto their backs.

“Oh…Gods.” Pan groaned.

Wendy glanced at him as the man above them started laughing.

“Good to see you too Pan.”

“Shove off, August.” Pan groaned as he sat up.

Wendy followed suit, dividing her attention between Pan and this August. Up close, he hardly looked like a jewel thief. He was actually rather…rugged?

“Nice pet.” Pan spat, nodding to the preoccupied bird. “Did you train her to kill?”

August spared a glance at the bird, nodding to a nest of sticks and shiny bits. “She’s nesting now. You came in on her territory.”

Pan followed his line of sight and frowned, walking over to the nest. A moment later, he pulled Marco’s missing ring from the woven debris.

“I have no idea how that got there.” August defended instantly.

“Sure you don’t.” Pan rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Marco will believe that.”

“So my dad sent you out here?” August scoffed.

“You think I’d show up here otherwise?” Pan muttered, pocketing the ring.

“You just might.” August teased with a sly smile.

Wendy watched the scene bashfully, unsure just where she belonged. August looked her way and winked, eyeing her and then the car.

“Your courting skills have become sloppy, and strange.”

“Think again moron.” Pan spat, pointing to the bloody window.

August went instantly pale at the sight of blood and backed away.

“What the hell Pan?”

“It’s a long story.” Wendy broke in. “May we use your phone?”

-,-,-,-,-,-,-

The authorities arrived within the hour, and Sheriff Graham waisted no time questioning Wendy and Pan. The area had become a crime scene, tapped off and flagged with the deputy cataloging Jekyll’s corpse.

“Then we just found him.” Wendy at the end of her statement.

“And you didn’t touch him?” Graham inquired.

Wendy glanced at Pan. He hadn’t taken his eyes off August since the police arrived. He was with Marco now, no doubt relaying the reason for Pan and Wendy being this close to his home just as they were having to do to Graham.

“No.” Wendy said.

“Well, just the same,” Graham said as he closed his notepad, “your fingerprints will be all over the car. Just stay put until we can clear you both.”

Wendy nodded, noticing the suspicious sideway glance he gave Pan. He couldn’t possibly think Pan had something to do with Jekyll’s death…right?

Wendy shook her head. Pan was too flamboyant for cold-blooded murder, and too clever to get caught.

Much too clever.

“Do you need a lift back to town?” Graham inquired to her.

Wendy removed her gaze from Pan. “In handcuffs or a zip tie?” Wendy teased.

Graham smirked. “I’ll even let you ride in the front seat.”

Wendy was about to respond when the stretcher carrying Jekyll’s body came by. Wendy tensed at the sight, unable to believe that just a week ago he had been alive, bringing unprecedented fear and darkness into their lives. It was even harder to believe that such a psychotic man had been reduced to a bag of rotting flesh in a plastic bag.

“If you two are done flirting, can I leave?” Pan snapped.

Graham cleared his throat. “You’re free to go.”

“Good.” Pan said, heading back to the wooded area where he had stashed his moped, sending a sideways glance August’s way.

Wendy gulped, the vibe coming off Pan much darker than it had been all day.

“Hang on.” She requested off-handedly before she jogged after Pan.

“Wait.” She gasped as he cranked up his moped. “Are you…is everything…” She stopped, unsure what she could ask after all they had gone through today.

“Is he another Jekyll?” Wendy asked instead.

Pan turned to her, the slightest blush on his sharp cheeks. “No. Not at all.” He continued put on his helmet and prepared to take off but an annoying obstacle stepped in his way.

“You said you didn’t know how Belle was connected to this.” Wendy stated boldly, though the dark circles under her eye made her look less powerful than she seemed. “Let me help you.”

“Thanks, but I don’t work with novices.” Pan said.

“Don’t give me that!” Wendy snapped, putting a hand on one of his handlebars. “After all we’ve been through, you must know by now that you can trust me. Don’t you?”

Pan grimaced impatiently, his fingers fidgeting nervously.

Wendy sighed. “Sydney and I found a few things in the library before the Jekyll incident. Everyone thought that Mr. Gold was somehow behind this.” She watched Pan physically flinched at the mention of his name. Her heart ached for his pain, but more so for an answer.

“It wasn’t him.” Pan said quietly.

“How do you know?”

“I just do.” Pan snapped, pulling his bike from Wendy’s grip.

“How though!” Wendy begged, going after him. “Who is he? Why are you afraid of him?”

“I’m not scared of shit!” Pan screamed so loud the police team stopped their work to survey the team. “This is my business, my life! Stay the hell out of it you nosy pest!”

With the insult heavy in the air, he drove off, leaving Wendy embarrassed and hurt.

“…Miss Darling?”

She slowly turned back to Graham who looked unsure what to say or do.

“I’d like to go please.” Wendy said, keeping her eyes down but a smile on.

“Of course, yes.” Graham agreed quickly, placing a gentle arm around her back. True to his word, he led her to the front seat of the car. After giving deputy Nolan additional instructions, he adjusted the heat and began the journey back to town.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Graham spoke after a long moment of silence. “I have a years worth of parking tickets I can make him pay for.”

Wendy snorted. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

Graham nodded as he pulled to a stop at a four-way intersection. Just as he was about to go, Pan drove up to Graham’s side and knocked on the window. After exchanging a look with Wendy, he rolled down the window and gave Peter a dirty look.

“What?” he demanded. However, Pan’s eyes were only on Wendy.

“He’s my brother!” Pan yelled through the window, speeding off before Graham or Wendy could respond.

They watched him speed off, just keeping to the speed limit to keep Graham from going after him.

“Who’s he talking about? Who’s his brother?” Wendy inquired to the sheriff.

Graham didn’t answer right away, nor did he start driving even though the roads were completely deserted.

“Sheriff, please. I want to help him.” Wendy begged.

“You can’t help him, Miss Darling.” Graham said quietly. “And you certainly can’t fix their relationship.”

“Pan’s relationship to who?”

“Mr. Gold.” Graham said finally. “He’s Pan’s brother.”

#ryik's fics #darling pan #papers and sleuthers #mystery #ouat fics

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