#trying to expand my mental library of hands and holding glasses by drawing them a lot sigh

[parisoonic]

pals drinking together (hand practice that got out of control)

[ryik-the-writer]

CHAPTER 13: The Girl With Blue Eyes: Underground

Wendy gains an ally with the search for Belle's captor; Pan becomes an unwilling "guest" of his captors hideaway.

Thank you so much  to everyone for their support and reviews! I never would have thought my little fic so many people so happy! Kisses! Kisses everywhere!

(A03)

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: Underground

·         Chapter 14. Recovery

·         Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more

·         Chapter 15: Trapped

-,-,-,-

Wendy awoke groggy and sore the next morning. She felt like she had slept with a rope around her neck and a stone under her spine. It was in that place between sleep and awake that she recalled the events that caused for her soreness: the hospital, the attack, the girl with blue eyes…

“Belle!”

Wendy shot up, sleepily feeling around for a balance until she opened her eyes and found Belle a few feet in front of her, clasping a mug.

“Oh, good morning!” Wendy greeted sheepishly, pushing her messy hair from her face.

Belle stared calmly at her, holding out the mug in her hands.

Wendy carefully took it and was mystified to find it filled with hot tea.

“Wow, thanks.” Wendy said, taking a tentative sip. The liquid was perfectly brewed, if a bit too sweet for her palette. She was thoroughly impressed. Belle must be recovering. She was wearing the pajamas she lent and it looked like she had attempted to run a comb through her mass of curls and clean her face.

Belle nodded, the slightest hint of a smile on her blanched face. She wondered around Wendy’s comfortable apartment, drawing instantly to her modest bookshelf, filled with classics and bestsellers from her London home. Her fingertips grazed along the spines carefully, lovingly.

“You like books?” Wendy inquired.

Belle turned to her, light shining in her eyes. Her smile expanded and she nodded.

Wendy felt a rush of warmth at Belle’s cooperation. Maybe she’d break some actual ground today.

“Did you…read a lot where you were?” she asked carefully.

In an instant, the positive glow in Belle’s eyes began to retreat.

“Okay, scratch that.” Wendy amended.

She needed to use tact if she was going to solve this mystery.

“What about Pan? Does he like to read?”

Belle glanced at her, a hint of a smile tugging at her weathered lips. She didn’t answer, but she looked happy, reminiscent really.

Despite him being a reporter, Wendy somehow never pictured Pan as a reader. She imagined a mental image of an impressive library in his home and chortled.

Belle smiled curiously at her and Wendy shook her head.

“Excuse that. What else does Pan like.”

Belle opened her mouth but no answer gave out. Her mouth shut with a frustrated click.

“It’s okay.” Wendy frowned gently. She wondered if her treatment in the hospital had affected her speech ability or perhaps her memory.

If that were the case, Belle needed immediate help. To get her that help, Wendy would have to branch out for information on Belle—on this whole conspiracy. Pan wouldn’t like it one bit, but he would just have to realize that leaving her high and dry with no information was on him. If she was lucky, maybe Belle had family in the small town who could help her.

Wendy prepared them a quick, small breakfast, not sure of Belle’s eating habits since her imprisonment, for lack of better word. Belle sat cautiously at the round table, picking at the eggs but devouring the buttery toast and tea.

“Um, Belle?” Wendy eased. “I have some business to attend to in town.”

Belle stared at her with a look of apprehension.

“It’ll just be for a few hours. You can read or get some more sleep, help yourself to anything in the fridge. And I’ll pick us up something good for dinner.”

Her guest nodded hesitantly and Wendy rose to change. She made her way into the bathroom connected to her room. The image that met her in the mirror shocked her into temporary paralysis.

Her neck was practically black from bruises, her face littered with small cuts, some fresh, some healing or healed from the de Vil incident. Wendy’s fingers grazed over them just to assure herself that the bumpy scabs were real.

There were moments when she couldn’t believe she had experienced all she had.  Any moment, she would wake up in her London bedroom and get ready for whatever job she had settled for there. Her mother would be making tea and waffles as usual, her father sipping his cup and muttered about ‘the idiots of parliament’.

Then, as the bruises and cuts burned, and as the bags under her eyes sunk deeper into her soul, she couldn’t deny that she was living in an unbelievably solid reality.

Wendy looked away at the thing staring back at her and went forth with putting together an outfit. It was cold enough now that she could where a scarf, a perfect cover for the marks on her neck. She did not need to run into Tink and have her demand an explanation, though it was tempting.

Some well-placed bandages and concealer disguised the other unnecessariness and Wendy was out the door, double checking that her piece for Children’s Day was safely tucked in her bag.

“Just turn the lock when I close the door.” Wendy carefully explained to Belle. “I’ll let myself in, okay.”

Belle nodded, her expression filled with worry.

Wendy’s hand hovered over her shoulder but retreated quickly. “Be back soon.”

She stepped into the hallway, looking both ways, before closing the door, a pair of glassy blue eyes watching her every move.

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

 Wendy.

Alley.

Tea.

 “You’re late Pan-the-Man.”

 Belle…Belle you’re here…you’re back…

I’m so sorry don’t leave again…

 Alley. Why was I in the alley…

 “You lied to me you bastard!”

“It’s what I do, Dr. J. Now I think you better make a run for it. That angry crowd is shouting your name, not mine.”

“You’ll pay for this!”

“I doubt it.”

 Pan moaned, his mind automatically trying to piece together the scattered images before him.

He managed to open his eyes—one eye, actually, his left one was swollen shut—and looked at his current surroundings. The sight of the dim lights and the operating table in the corner caused his stomach to turn and his mind to awake instantly.

He was screwed.

He tried to jump up but his legs were weighed down—with chains.

“Shit shit shit!" Pan breathed as he struggled with the chains keeping him tied to a thick pipe.

“Not so comfortable, is it Paney.”

Pan rolled his eyes as he detected the direction the voice was coming from.

“Hiding in the shadows; not creepy at all.” Pan deadpanned.

A screech assaulted Pan’s wired nerves, and before he knew it, the formally Dr. Henry Jekyll was in his face.

“You always were a sarcastic son of a bitch.” Jekyll muttered, toying with a scalpel.

Pan became a bit unnerved at the site of the weapon but kept calm. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been down in Jekyll’s little slice of Hell and if anyone had noticed his absence. Staying calm and keeping Jekyll talking would keep him alive. For now.

“Most find that to be my most appealing trait.” Pan coughed. “But you didn’t bring me all the way down here to flirt. What do you want, other than to get the shit beat out of you when I get out of these chains?”

Jekyll’s hard line of a smile melted into a sinister frown. He leaned so close Pan could catch the whiff of embalming fluid on his clothes.

“I want to know where you’ve hidden my pretty blue-eyed friend.”

Pan paused, anger boiling just under his skin. “So you were keeping her here?”

Jekyll shrugged. “I kept her where she was needed, away from Gold…” he smirked, “and away from you apparently.”

Pan’s nails bit into his palms. “You’re going to pay for all of this.”

Jekyll giggled, an unnerving sound that cut at Pan’s resolve.

“Paney Paney Paney.” He scoffed. “The only thing I’m going to do is drag that pretty little lady back where she belongs…if fact,” he popped his lips, “I think I’ll pick up that pretty little blond as a new friend.”

Pan shot out, trying to use his teeth to get at Jekyll’s throat.

“You touch either one of them I’ll kill you!” he screamed at him, struggling at the chains.

Jekyll looked Pan over appealingly before his arm shot out, plunging a syringe into his neck.

Pan dropped, fighting the numbness that quickly consumed his senses.

“They…they’ll…they’ll fight…” Pan slurred, wishing that he had the strength to spit in the prick’s face. “She…Wendy…won’t let you…take…”

Jekyll patted Pan’s cheek as his eyes closed. “Oh Paney, they’re already mine.”

 -,-,-,-,-,-,-,-

 Wendy took in a deep breath and adjusted her scarf before she entered the main office of The Daily Mirror. Sydney Glass was sitting at his desk looking characteristically stressed. No one else was in the office, something Wendy found just a bit unnerving.

She cleared her throat to announcer her arrival. Glass’s lagging head shooting up.

“Wendy.” Glass greeted in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you to come in today?”

“I just wanted to drop this off.” Wendy recited the line she had rehearsed on her way to the paper.

“Oh, the Children’s day piece.” Glass said as he reached out for the notes.

Wendy watched him as he quietly went over the notes for the piece, hastily written in order to accommodate her mission.

“Looks good.” Glass acknowledged half-heartedly, turning back to the computer dismissively.

Wendy pulled out the lone chair in front of his desk and took a seat, earning her boss’s attention once more.

“Actually, I need your help.”

“O…kay.” Glass turned from the computer to give Wendy his full attention. Despite how she had been low-key the last few days, Wendy was still a crucial part of the paper.  She was a hot-story magnet and just what his paper needed to stay afloat. He would do anything he could to keep her content, as he was used to doing for Pan.

“What can I do you for?”

Wendy swallowed the nervousness brewing in her throat for the past hour.

“I need your help with something, something that can’t go in the paper or even to Graham.”

Sydney’s eyes widened, his journalistic instincts clashing with this business-like greed that usually led him to stop giving a damn about humanity for the sake of a story.

“I’m listening.”

Wendy reached behind her to close the door. “I found something, and I think it might be part of something big.”

“Political scandal big, or body in the woods big?”

Wendy held her breath as a disturbing image of dead dogs and Belle’s many injuries flashed across her mind.

“Something in between, I think.”

Sydney nodded, twirling a pen in between his fingers. The pen stopped moving suddenly, and Wendy feared he could be having second thoughts.

“Is Pan by some chance involved?”

Wendy paused, unsure if she should involve Pan just yet. He seemed aggressively protective over the whole situation. It was the first time she had seen him so human and raw, so un-Pan like. And moreover, he was trusting her to protect Belle, to protect him without saying so.

Before she could say anything, Sydney picked up the office phone and began dialing.

A sound equivalent to a scream jumped from Wendy’s throat. “What the bloody hell are you doing!”

Sydney hissed as her nails dug into his hand, crushing into the dial tone.

“Get…OFF!” he screeched, nearly throwing Wendy on the floor.

“You are not calling the police!” she yelled at him. “I promised him!”

“I’m calling Felix!” he yelled back, rubbing at the indentions on his hand. “He’s the only one who can talk sense into that idiot!”

Wendy pulled back, relieved but also unnerved. “I…I don’t know…”

Sydney placed the phone on the dial long enough to get his point across.

“Look kid, you’ve been in this game only a few weeks now, but I think you’ve started to grasp the concept on how things work around here.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Pan is crazy, Wendy.” Glass stated matter-of-factly. “He does not think things through, doesn’t take his safety into consideration.”

Wendy shrugged. That was true.

“Everytime he’s involved, something explodes or someone gets killed, and those events have escalated since…well, you arrived.”

Wendy couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“I’m not blaming you kid. I’m just saying that we’re going to need back up if this thing is as big as you say it is. especially if Pan is involved.”

Wendy chewed her lip, mind racing for a solution. Pan was counting on her silence, wordlessly trusting her. It was the closest step towards cooperation they had gained since she arrived in Storybrooke. Despite all his shortcomings, she wanted to be something to him, or at least be able to carry on a conversation without feeling the urge to claw his eyes out.

On the other hand, why should she be silent? He had given her nothing but Belle’s name as some vague arrow to an even vaguer mystery. Belle was the one who was in danger, not him. While he was out doing whatever, Belle was sitting in her apartment, confused, scared and in desperate need of medical treatment that Pan wouldn’t allow her to seek.

He would hate her for getting Glass and Felix involved, but Wendy couldn’t really care, not with Belle’s life on the line.

Finally, she nodded, and Glass picked up the phone.

-,-,-,-,-

Pan blinked to keep himself awake, but whatever Jekyll had slipped him was lulling him in and out of consciousness and disorienting his senses. After he woke up the second time, the insane ex-doctor’s face jeering at him, Pan couldn’t remember where he was or why he was there. He remembered other things though, little glimpses of memories that were forever crusted on the sensitive lining of his brain.

A letter (he couldn’t remember its exact contents). A crowded, smelly ride on a plane, and then an equally disgusting bus.

A man with a deep-seated frown and eyes the color of whiskey (a drink he would later appreciate as his mind spiraled out of control).  

“Welcome home.”

“This isn’t my home. You don’t even want me here.”

Silence.

He always remembered the silence.

 “Wake up!”

Pan jerked up quickly, hitting his head uncomfortably against the pipe he was chained to.

“Let’s try this again: where’s blue eyes?”

“B…blue…”

 “Hi, I’m Belle. Mr. Gold asked me to tutor you…”

 “He hates me.”

 “No he doesn’t Pan-the-man, he loves you very much.”

 He pushed away the books in front of them. “He doesn’t want me here he never did!”

 Belle reached out for his arm, stopping him from fleeing the salmon mansion. “I want you here. I will always want you.”

  “I love you.”

“Well,” Jekyll clicked his tongue. “That’s flattering but that doesn’t answer my question.”

 Blue eyes.

Bright smiles.

There was never any silence between them.

Wait…no…yes there was…

He was, what sixteen at the time. Young and foolish enough to think a woman six years his senior could love him the way he did her.

He had flowers in his hand…what were they? Roses, posies? They were pink, he recalled.

And they were for her.

 “Come on.” Jekyll sighed as he slapped his cheek. “Stay awake. We’re not done.”

 Something happened when he opened the door to the Salmon Mansion.

Something…something…

Oh. Right.

 “Hey!” Jekyll exclaimed with a sharp slap that sent Pan reeling. “Where is she damn it!”

Pan turned his head to glare at the blurry figure standing over him.

“You.” He spat. “You took her from me.”

“Technically I took her from Gold, but close enough.” He corrected with a proud grin.

“She was there for me! And you took!”

Jekyll’s eyebrow arched in confused amusement at the drugged, seething boy withering at his feet.

“I’ll kill you for this.” He hissed trying to use his teeth to bite his legs. “I don’t care what I have to do, I’ll kill you for—”

Jekyll kicked him in the temple before he could say another word. With the force, stress, and drugs, he was out like a light.

“Looks like you gave him too much.” Came the voice of Jekyll’s lackey as he snuck through the underground door of the basement.

“Yeah…” Jekyll sighed with irritation, turning to address the man who straightened like a soldier the moment Jekyll’s eyes landed on him. “Any luck with the girl?”

“No.” the man answered quietly. “I’ve checked everywhere: the upper wing of the hospital, Pan’s apartment, even the old library. She’s being well-hidden.”

Jekyll somehow managed to restrain himself from sending a syringe into his associate’s eye. This whole mess was taking far too long to clean up. He needed to get blue-eyes back where she belonged before she was discovered and everything he had worked for would go down the drain.

He looked back down at Pan, the need to see how red his insides were becoming more of a need for sanity rather than an interest.

“Pan and Blue-Eyes want to play hide-and-seek? That’s fine. We’ll just bring in an extra player.”

He turned to his henchman.

“Change of course: find the blond and send her down for tea.”

 -,-,-,-,-

 Wendy was sure she didn’t have any lip skin left after chewing them from nervousness. Everything she said or did now would affect Belle’s safety. Pan would hate her for good, and possibly come up with another scheme to get her out of Storybrooke. He still had the Mirror in his pocket and still had Glass’s and Felix’s loyalty even though she had persuaded them to her side.

“Okay,” Sydney sighed when the office was clear, “start from the beginning, and leave nothing out.”

Wendy’s neck burned at the idea of revealing her assault in the mysterious wing of the hospital. If it weren’t for the abuse Belle was suffering she could leave it out of her story, but that was not an option if she wanted Felix and Glass to know just how serious the situation was.

Wordlessly, she untangled the scarf around her neck and revealed the purplish marks.

She flinched when Glass shot out of his desk, pens and memorabilia rolling over the edge. Felix took several steps back, gawking at the bruises.

“What the Hell!” exclaimed Sydney. “That little shit did that to you!”

“What? No!” Wendy squawked, covering her neck quickly. “He didn’t do this, that maniac in the hospital did!”

Sydney’s expression relaxed and he leaned on the desk. “Oh my God, kid don’t ever do that again.”

Felix scrubbed a hand over his face, recovering quickly from the shock. “You said who did this to you?”

“Someone at the hospital. I didn’t see their face but I know that their connected to all of this.”

“Who? What? And how is Peter involved?” Sydney nagged, holding his head like he was recovering from a hangover.

“One question at a time.” Felix defended, stepping protectively beside Wendy. “How about you have a seat. You want coffee?”

Wendy shook her head, taking one of the seats at Glass’s desk, feeling drained.

“Fine then. How exactly is Pan involved in this?” Glass pressed on. “Was he with you or…”

“Maybe we should focus on the fact that someone tried to rip her throat out.” Felix called out across the room.

“I’m trying to figure out whether I need to get his lawyer involved!”

Felix dropped the coffee filters, turning to Glass with an exasperated look.

“Are you kidding me? You can’t cover up his shit forever! I don’t even cover up his shit!”

“Hey!” Wendy shrieked loud enough to shake the glass window. Her pulse was racing and her head was about to explode.

“I can assure you both,” Wendy said low and threatening. “if Pan were to ever lay a hand on me, you’d never see him again.”

Glass and Felix exchanged a blank look before straightening up, deciding to drop the beef between them.

“So,” Glass perked up, flipping to a less crinkled page of his notebook.  

“Why did you come to us instead of the police Felix cut in.

“Because…Pan asked me not to.”

“What did he do?”

Wendy twitched in her seat. “Nothing. I brought him into it.”

“Into what?” Glass demanded.

“Okay!” Wendy sighed in frustration. “I have a borderline mental patient in my apartment and can’t do anything about her because she’s…something to Pan.” She stopped to wait for questions but only got strange looks from them both.

“She’s malnourished and can barely speak and she needs to be in a hospital but I can’t take her there because of Pan and because someone was abusing her!”

“A mental patient?” Glass argued. “Are you being sarcastic or was this girl in hospital garb?”

“Rags really and no bracelet, but her wrists and ankles are bruised and she came out of this…hallway. Practically under the hospital.”

Glass nodded but was obviously unconvinced. “What’s her name? Age?”

Belle’s name was on the tip of her tongue, but something, perhaps her half-baked loyalty to Pan, stopped her.

“I…I rather not say right now.”

Glass looked ready to call her mental. Felix had the tact to remain passive, though his eyes were searching.

“Kid,” Glass began delicately, “you’ve been through a shitload as of late—”

“I am not losing my mind.” Wendy shouted. This was going south fast. She was debating making a run for it when she caught site of Felix pulling out his cellphone.

“Felix no!” Wendy pleaded.

“I’m not calling the police.” Felix assured her, holding the phone out of her reach, an amazing feat with his additional height. “I’m calling Pan so he can sort this thing out.”

“But I—”

“Are letting him pull you into something you don’t need to be a part of.”

Wendy glared at him. “I wasn’t meant to be locked up and held at gunpoint by a madwoman but I was. That’s the price you pay for journalism.” Wendy took in a deep shaky breath, pushing away the ghosts of her mind.

“Look, there is a girl in my apartment who is in grave danger and…I can’t turn to anyone. Someone at the hospital did all those horrible things to her, for all I know Sherriff Graham will just throw her back in there, and Pan…damn Pan has all the answers but won’t give me anything to go by! You two are literally the only people who can help me!”

Felix and Glass’s eyes met, both relenting over Wendy’s teary plea.

“Okay.” The reporter nodded. “What do you need us to do kid?”

Wendy nearly dropped with relief. “Help me find out who she is. Who’s her family. Who can claim her and save her.”

“Give us her name.”

“Belle.” Wendy sighed. “Her name is Belle.”

The pen Sydney Glass was writing with fell from his hand. He slowly looked from the pad, his eyes glassy.

“Wait, say that again?”

“Her name is Belle.” Wendy repeated uneasily.

“What does she look like?” Glass inquired desperately. “Does she have brown hair, blue eyes? Is she in her late 20’s?”

Wendy gawked at her boss, her heart freezing in her chest.

“What…”

Glass rose before she could get her answer, frantically grabbing his coat and hat.

“Take me to her.” Glass demanded.

“Glass what’s going on?” Felix urged. “Who’s Belle?”

Glass didn’t answer at first, the wheels behind his eyes turning.

“Felix, go to Pan’s place and drag him to Wendy’s apartment if you have to.”

Wendy and Felix stared at each other, not sure what would happen once they separated.

“Glass, are you sure…”

“No.” Glass admitted with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know who’s in her apartment but…if it’s a chance it’s her…”

Wendy watched the guilt flood his features. Belle was something to him as well. The mystery was getting thicker.

“I’ll get to you both as soon as I can.” Felix announced. “Be careful.” He mouthed to Wendy as he exited the office.”

Wendy nodded and waited for Glass, her mind slowly processing all that had and was about to happen. She wanted to believe that Glass could help her, that Belle’s nightmare would soon be over. No matter what happened, she would protect Belle, but she wished desperately she had someone more open to walk with her through this.

“Come on kid.” Glass urged, holding the door impatiently for her.

Wendy followed, feeling lighter but at the same time feeling more weighed down than ever.

.-.-.-.-.

The eyes that haunted him the next time around weren’t blue.

They were green.

Green and bright and he hated them.

But right now, while he mourned for a woman who would never exist again, he was glad to see them.

“Wendy bird…”

 “Yeah?”

 “Wake up!”

Pan jerked back into consciousness, his head swimming from suddenly being jerked back into the land of the living. His mouth was dry and he could smell the rust of the bruising chains.

“Come on. Sit up.”

Pan groaned, his body heavy, his mind unable to connect to the rest of his body. He hissed when Jekyll grabbed him by the hair and hoisted him into a sitting position. His stomach flipped and he was sure he was about to start puking.

“Don’t even think about it.” He pulled back, leaving Pan to balance himself on the pipe he was chained to.  

“Fuck you.”

Jekyll chuckled, reaching out to tap Pan’s chin.  “Well that is tempting but my afraid we just don’t have the time.”

“Pity.” Pan slurred. “I really wanted to get my hands around your throat.”

“Back to your old self already? Great! Let’s talk. And for your sake, cooperate this time.”

Pan leaned against the pipe, his mind becoming clearer but his body still slowly coming to.

“I’ll start: what the hell are you giving.”

“Pentothal, though you probably know it better as truth serum.”

Pan snorted. “That’s how you’re going to get me to spill?” he laughed, turning his head away. “You never did have a stomach for the bloodier forms of communication.”

Jekyll’s smirk faded. In a flash he had Pan pinned to the pipe by his throat.

“Do you really want to test out that claim Paney? Neither one of us are the same people we were two years ago, thus I will gut you like a fucking fish if you keep pushing me.”

“No you won’t.” Pan wheezed. “You need me alive.”

Jekyll’s icy smirk returned and he released Pan gently, tapping his bruised cheek. “I didn’t tell you?”

Pan shrugged away. “Tell me what you creep?”

“I’ve invited that pretty blond of yours down for tea. I’ve made sure Lackey escorted her so that she doesn’t get lost. Once she gets here…well…depends on your behavior really”

Pan’s blood went ice cold, the chains holding him down suddenly becoming much tighter.

“…leave her out of this. She has nothing to do with any of this shit!”

“Au contraire, my dear…friend.” He spat the last word. “She is actually the cause of this whole damn mess. Did you know that?” he laughed, the pitch building until he was bordering on hysterics.

“Did you know she came snooping down here? That she distracted Lackey when old Blue Eyes started running. She’s the reason she got away and that I’m having to tear this town a part to find her?”

Pan gulped. Wendy freaking Darling!

Jekyll stood long enough to grab another syringe and Pan’s arms trembled.

“I’m going to get the tea prepared and you’re going to take another nap.”

“No!” Pan fought fruitlessly. “Damn it Jekyll don’t-AH!”

Jekyll stabbed the needle into his arm, causing the inflicted area to ooze blood once he ripped it out.

Peter felt the drug hit him instantly, his thoughts becoming a mishmash of fears and memories.

Yellow and Blue.

Love and Hate.

And then just black.

Jekyll watched him for moment before stalking to the sink, cursing him and blue eyes, and especially the blonde as he retrieved a boxed up tea set. As he was opening the box, his beeper went off and he answered it.

But the message on it made him smirk.

Their guest was about to arrive.

-,-,-,-,-

“My apartment’s the other way.” Wendy reminded her boss as he drove.

“We’re making a pitstop. You’ve been to the library yet?”

Wendy looked up from the scenery to stare at Glass’s solid expression.

“I haven’t exactly had a chance to sit down and read yet.”

Glass actually snorted at her remark, and for a moment Wendy thought what they were about to do next wouldn’t be so bad.

That thought banished when Glass parked behind the town’s abandoned library.

Wendy had passed by the building several times on her way to work, even thought it a pity that the town had closed it, but hadn’t given it any more thought than that.

“What are we doing here?”

Glass didn’t answer at first, only led her to the back door where a broken chain hung off the door. He pushed it open unceremoniously and motioned for her to follow. Wendy glanced back at the car and considered making a run for it. What if Belle’s condition was some small-town secret and she was about to be taken out to preserve it?

“Should I leave the door open?” she inquired carefully, one foot out the door.

“Yeah, just a crack. There should be some flashlights around here somewhere.”

Wendy put a stray brick to prop the door and pulled out her cellphone to use the light (and to use as a weapon in case this really was a murder trap).

She looked around the dark dusty space and crinkled her nose at the overpowering smell of old books. The circulatory desk was to her left, stacked with crinkled stained boxes and folders. Beside that was a corner with small, overturned colored chairs and books barely illuminated by the crookedly boarded windows. Wendy’s heart sunk when she realized it must have been a children’s section.

Glass’s grumbling brought her from her muse.

“So, are you going to stash my body here or…”

Glass turned from the box he was pilfering through to stare at her in mixed amusement. “You definitely need a day off after all of this kid.”

Wendy sighed exhaustedly. “I’ll worry about that later, right just stop with the mystery guru bit and please tell me what this is all about.”

“I will as soon as…found it!” he pulled out a folder. “Didn’t think I’d find it. After the library shut down sheriff station and mayor’s office started using this as a free storage unit. These are all their closed cases. Maybe there’s something in here that can tell us who did all this to her.”

“Closed cases?” Wendy moved beside him to illuminate the file with her phone light. She gasped when she saw a gray pixeled picture of Belle. Belle French. She scanned the texts, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“She went missing two years ago? Why is this closed? She was right here!”

“Because she sent a series of photos to Mr. Gold’s address, he showed them to his private detective and that was that. See?”

Wendy squinted at what looked to be poorly photoshopped photos of a much healthier Belle in various locations. She smiled fondly at the pictures but then the blunt of what Glass had said washed over her.

“Mr. Gold? My landlord? What does he have to do with this?”

Glass laughed much to Wendy’s chagrin.

“You really need to catch up with local gossip kid. The Gold-French affair was the only thing this town talked about for the majority of 2013.”

“Okay, what does that have to do with anything?”

Sydney groaned, flopping unprofessionally on the floor and pulling handfuls of files and papers from the box.

“Have a seat kid, you need a history lesson.”

“Is this really the time—”

“You want to wait around for Pan to tell you?”

Wendy crossed her legs comfortable. She watched as Glass spread out the papers.

“Belle French moved here during her sophomore of high school. I was teaching a creative writing class at the time and she was my star student.” Glass smiled fondly. “Damn that girl could write. She’d just lost her mom, and her dad had shipped her clear across the country. Poor kid had plenty to be upset about.”

Wendy nodded as she went through the various statements and evidence photos.

“Her dad, is he still alive?”

“Nah,” Glass answered. “He died about six months ago. Something with his liver. Other than him there was no one else, that I knew of at least.”

Wendy growled in annoyance. So much for having a support system.

“Anyway, I offered her an internship during her senior year, thought she’d make a great addition to the paper. She started doing tutoring to add to her resume and that’s really how she got involved with Gold and Pan.”

“Gold and Pan? Again, what do they have to do with any of this!”

“Chill kid I’m getting to that. Belle tutored Pan when he first got into Maine.”

“Pan wasn’t born here?”

“No, England I think, though he mentioned once he spent some time in Scotland. He was living with Gold when he got here.”

“What?” Wendy exclaimed, recalling the look of fear and malice on his face every time Gold was mentioned, how he all but jumped out her apartment window just so that he wouldn’t have to see him.

Wendy gasped as a revelation came to her. “You don’t think Gold did this to her, do you?”

Glass scoffed. “That was the main theory when she disappeared. Rumor had it that they began an affair when she started tutoring Pan, and that she wanted to break it off so he killed her, even got arrested under suspicion. It wasn’t until the photos were sent to him that he was cleared. But now I’m not too sure. The man has this town in his pocket, could have easily gotten away with it.”

“He owns this place…” Wendy mused, remembering Tink’s shaky revelation the night of the fireflies.

“Okay, back to Belle. What was she doing under the hospital. Someone must have noticed her.”

“Hang on.” Glass stood and trotted to a shelf filled with rolls. He shifted through the piles before exclaiming and pulling out two.

“Look at these.” He dictated as he rolled them out. “This,” explained, pointing to one that was slightly less crinkled, “Is the town today. This,” he pointed to the one that was yellowed and curling. “Is the town 150 years ago when it was founded.”

Wendy looked back and forth between the two maps before giving Glass a deadpanned look.

“I do not know how to read a piece of papers with a bunch of lines and shapes on it. Explain?”

“Geez kid.” Glass grumbled. “Okay, as you cannot see, a lot of the town from the founding still exists, the boat sheds at the beach, the old well, and…”

“And…?”

“Dramatic effect, sorry. The original hospital, which is right under the one you were standing in yesterday.”

“Wait…” Wendy perplexed. “I went under the hospital? I didn’t even notice.”

“Well, more like adjacent to the current building. It’s really just an abandoned wing, closed off to the public. Makes for some creepy urban legends but that’s about it.”

“So whoever took Belle…”

“Had the perfect place to hide her.” Glass rolled up the maps. “Literally under us the whole time.”

“And no one saw a reason to look somewhere any rational person wouldn’t go.”

Wendy tried to wrap her head around the whole thing. Small town secrets were more complicated than television writers made them out to be.

“What do we do now?” she inquired.

Glass began to fiddle with his phone. “Felix should have called by now. Must be having trouble finding Pan.”

Wendy paused, and icy chill running up her spine.

“Did he report in this morning?”

Glass turned to her, his expression soon matching her own. “Actually, no.”

An image of Pan slamming her apartment door flashed across her mind. She held the stinging tears threatening to come, telling herself not to panic.

“He might be at my apartment.” She told Glass, more to reassure herself than him. “He promised Belle…”

Glass nodded, picking up the box with Belle’s case. “We need to get there now. Come on.”

Wendy shot up and turned off her phone light, eager to leave the dust-covered museum of memories. She was right at the door when she heard the sound of a door slamming and then crunching gravel.

“Did you tell Felix…”

“No. Hide.”

“Hide…”

Sydney grabbed her arm, pulling her to the circulatory desk. “Duck kid!” he hissed, throwing her behind the desk while he jumped behind a book case.

Wendy secured her position and listened to each footstep and then, to her horror, the sound of the door closing.

A nauseating second of quiet followed before the heavy footsteps picked up again, barely echoing in the cluttered space. Wendy could hear the person shifting around, going through papers as she and Glass had just moments ago.

Wendy wished she could see her boss in the inky darkness, or at least see who was prowling around behind her.

Don’t panic. They’ll go away soon.

She repeated the simple matra until she was screaming it in her mind. Hours seemed to pass as the person continued to prowl around, seeming to make no plans of leaving.

A cold sweat began to build along Wendy’s spine, her sense of time slipping as the darkness around her became more permanent, making her overly cozy hiding spot seem smaller.

Like a dog pen.

“No.” she croaked, covering her mind instantly. Don’t go there.

She held her breath as she waited to see if the prowler heard her but only silence followed. She breathed through her nose in relief, believing she was in the clear.

That is until her cellphone began screaming throughout the library, the bright light giving away her position.

She searched for it frantically, cursing and hyperventilating as she searched for the silencing button. Right as the phone light blinded her, someone reached over the circulatory desk and grabbed her by the hair, yanking the screaming Wendy over the ancient wood.

Wendy’s screaming came to an abrupt halt when the brute threw her across the floor, stomping towards her. Scalp burning and heart racing, Wendy began to crawl backwards, fingers dancing over her phone for the light. By some miracle she found it and shined it in the perpetrators face, momentarily blinding them.

“Sydney!” Wendy screamed as loud as her dried, cracked throat would allow. “Syd…”

Wendy stopped when the blotches of black faded from her vision and her attacker became clear, namely the fresh, crisscrossed rows of scratches on his hand.

From her nails.

Her cellphone fell from her hand, the light focusing on him.

“No…”

The man towering over her lowered his hand and blinking rapidly.

“Finally caught you.”

A tear ran down Wendy’s cheek, her mind going blank, instincts freezing. This was the man who nearly chocked her to death, who left her to wither and wheeze on the floor of a rotting hospital.

Who she was more than certain now had kept Belle a prisoner in a place just as dark as the one around her.

“Alright, you’re coming with me.” He stated gruffly, reaching out for her.

Wendy let out a wet cry, trying to push herself away.

“No no no…”

Suddenly the man stumbled forward, shouting obscenities as Glass jumped on his back and locked his limbs around him.

“Run Wendy run now!”

Wendy jumped up so fast her head spun, her spiking adrenaline disalluding where the exit was.

“Get out of here kid!” Glass screamed as he fought to stay bound to the man who had a good foot on him in height.

Wendy quickly looked for some kind of exit and caught sight of a strange metal door. She sprinted to it, struggling to find a handle. She managed to feel a slit and wedge the tips of her fingers in it. She opened the space enough so that she could pull apart the door, revealing a small, closet-sized space.

She saw the wheels in the back and new instantly it was an elevator.

She only prayed that it worked.

“Glass!” she screamed out, barely able to see the struggle now that her cellphone had been kicked out of view. “This way.”

The taller man looked her way and threw himself backwards, causing Glass to hit the circulatory desk with a sickening crack. Wendy numbly watched as her boss slumped to the ground, unmoving and unresponsive.

The taller man took a few seconds to recover, popping his neck and straightening his jacket, before he turned his maliceful gaze on Wendy.

Wendy’s hand searched for the lever that would close the elevator and buy her a few more moments of safety from the inevitable death she was about to face.

As the man stalked towards her, her mind chose to shut down all instincts that could save her. There was no point in them now. She had had the same mindset when De Vil had held a gun to her head, when at the time she was certain no one was coming to her rescue. She had been wrong twice: Pan had literally came crashing in at the very last second, but not this time. There was no wall for him to crash through, no door to throw open and shield her. It was just her and a man who could snap her neck with a flick of his wrist.

She hoped it really was that instantaneous, and that someone would find them before their bodies became too unrecognizable.

Now the man was standing right in front her, a friendly stranger about to join her for a ride in the elevator.

She waited for him to reach in and end her. A flick of his wrist and it would be over.

Instead, the man calmly closed the elevator doors. A second later, the metal apartment began slowly making its way down.

Wendy blinked, her mind, which had been ready to register the change from life to death, pausing.

He’d let her live.

He tried to choke her to death less than 24 hours ago.

He’d held an innocent girl captive and stolen a few amazing years from her life.

He’d even killed Glass.

But he let her go. Let her go…somewhere. Away.

“No.”

She was supposed to die.

Not Glass.

“Wait.”

She tried to pry the ancient elevator doors apart.

“Let me out.”

They were locked and still going down. She still alive.

“Let me out you son of a bitch!”

She slammed her hands against them fruitlessly. Screaming and slapping.

“LET ME OUT!”

Sharp heaves shot through her chest, heat flooding her face and exhaustion bringing her to her knees.

She sobbed hoarsely against the metal door, her arms falling slack to her sides.

“Damn IT!”

What the hell did she do now?

For a moment she wanted to rot away. Be that skeleton some nosy kids found a decade down the road.

But as she grieved, as she screamed out two weeks of fear and frustration a small glimmer flickered in her damaged mind.

Belle was still waiting in her apartment. Felix was waiting to see her again. Pan still owed her a story. Sydney…Sydney needed to be taken home.

She was alive, and hated it more than she hated anything else in the world.

She was alive, and still had too much fighting left to do.

A nauseatingly cheerful ding echoed through the elevator. Wendy could feel the doors begin to vibrate under her stinging palms, signaling that they were about to open and introduce her to a new Hell.

“Son of a bitch.” She cursed as she pulled herself to her feet, wiping the tears and other fluids from her face, glaring at the slither of light slowing oozing through the opening doors. She blinked away from the harsh light and the overwhelming stench of cleansing chemicals that followed.

“Well hello Miss Darling!”

She jumped at the voice, not truly expecting to see anyone.

Especially not someone who knew her name.

Gliding towards her was a smirking man dressed in a freshly pressed lab coat, the light from the overhead lights reflecting off his glasses and blocking out his eyes.

Glasses.

Wendy clutched at her delicate throat.

“You…”

“Bird…”

Wendy stilled at the familiar moniker, turning regrettably to where Pan was chained.

“Oh no…Pan…”

“I’m so glad you finally made it.”

Wendy’s head snapped forward to look in eyes of her second attacker.

“Let’s have a chat, shall we?”