Thing He Loves Most (Peter Pan/Ouat)

Chapter Two

*PRESENT*

-

After the ship docked, everyone headed over to Granny's diner for a celebration lunch of coming back home. I stayed for a short time, only because Mary Margaret insisted on it since I had been part of the rescue. Eventually I started to feel out of place and a bit claustrophobic, so I quietly snuck out of the diner when no one was looking.

The sun had started to set, casting brilliant hues of orange and pink across the sky as I walked along Main Street. Since most of the town was at Granny's, the streets looked almost bare and the shops closed, except for the occasional passerby.

A cool wind blew through my hair, sending a shiver down my body. I pulled the borrowed coat--from whom I had gotten it I couldn't remember--tighter around myself to keep the warmth in and continued walking, my shoulders tensed.

As I was turning a corner, a loud creak to my left made me jump. I whirled around, my nerves going into overdrive. I immediately expected someone, maybe a thief, was following me, but no one was there. The sidewalk and streets were empty.

The loud creak sounded again, but this time I realized where it was coming from. On my left was a small cabin with a porch swing. The hinges of the porch swing creaked with age as the occasional breeze pushed it gently back and forth.

My shoulders sagged with relief as I raised a hand to my chest to calm my racing heart. I didn't realize how on-edge I was feeling until now.

'But it was to be expected,' I told myself reassuringly, 'especially after everything that has happened. From being held prisoner for so long on that island, and Pan's defeat, to Felix being thrown in jail. And Thomas...'

I shook the thought away before it could surface. I just wanted to forget it all, pretend like it never happened. I had to get out of here, out of this town, or I was sure I'd lose it.

I glanced down the street and spotted a brown truck parked not too far away and hurried over to it. It looked easy enough to break into; just a simple lock system. However, before I pulled out the lock picking kit I had swiped earlier, I decided to try the handle on a mere hunch.

It opened.

I stared at it the open door in surprise. Who in their right mind would leave their car door unlocked? I knew it was a small town, but come on. You couldn't trust everyone.

I shrugged, not wanting to further question my sheer luck and hopped in. Now, the hard part. Hot-wiring.

I had only done it once before back in London when I ran away from my first foster parents. I was thirteen, but could still drive a car better than any seventeen year old on the road, that was for sure. The only thing was, I had only managed to start the car before I got caught. I wasn't going to let that happen this time.

A sudden tap on the driver's side window startled me and I lifted my head, only I had momentarily forgotten I was underneath the dash and banged it into the steering wheel.

I guess I spoke too soon.

I cursed loudly and sat up, rubbing the spot where it connected with the wheel. I turned towards the window, ready to shoot a glare at whoever interrupted me in the middle of my car heist, but stopped cold.

Thomas stood outside the truck, an uncertain, yet determined look on his face. I hesitated a lot longer than I anticipated before rolling down the window.

"What are you doing?" He questioned.

I rested my arm against the window sill, trying to look casual. "I'm just...going for a drive."

Thomas didn't buy my line, not for a second. "That's crap, Bailey, and you know it. You're leaving town, aren't you?"

I hated that he knew me so well. He was the only person I had allowed myself to get close to. I immediately dropped my act and gave him an icy look. "So?"

"Why?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you," I brushed him off quickly and started to roll the window up. My efforts were seized however when he slapped his hand down on the sill.

I raised my eyes to glare at him and noticed that he was closer now, his body pressed against the door and his head poking inside the truck, several inches from me. I inhaled sharply at the close proximity, my heart beat rising, and I hoped that he didn't read too much into the scared look on my face.

His eyes bored into mine. "Don't go, Bailey. Please."

I stared at him, a bit taken aback. I had expected him to try to convince me to stay, not flat out beg me. But then again, he knew I was stubborn and once I got something into my head, there was no changing it.
Those sad, dull blue eyes continued to stare into mine, relentlessly. I couldn't deal with this right now. Eventually, I looked away, unable to maintain eye contact anymore.

"Let go of the car," I said, monotonously.

After a short moment of contemplation, he reluctantly dropped his hand from the window and took a step back, but I made no attempt to roll it up this time. Instead, I continued working on the hot-wiring.

"You used to talk about it being just the two of us; together." 

I froze with my hands on the two wires I had severed underneath the dash, just centimetres from touching.

"We can still have that," Thomas said. "Here, in Storybrooke. This can be a new start for the both of us."

I met his eyes this time--they were almost pleading, but they were also full of sincerity. He meant every word of it. I started to feel that familiar dull ache coming to the surface, gripping my chest.

Once upon a time, I had wanted that. But that was before Neverland, when I actually thought we might have a chance to be together. Before any of this happened. I wanted so much to believe him. Old feelings and memories poured from my heart, screaming at me to just stay. This is what you wanted for so long, isn't it? A home. And best of all, you two can start again. Things can go back to the way they were before--

No.

Things could never go back to the way they were before. Everything was different now. Very different.

Numbly, my fingers found the two severed wires under the dash and twisted them together, creating a spark. The engine roared to life. I snapped my gaze to him for the last time, my eyes burning with unshed tears--all the feelings I had buried long ago flooding back to the surface: anger, sadness, hurt, regret, guilt.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. 

With that, I peeled away from the curb and sped off down the road, watching Thomas' reflection in the rear view mirror growing smaller until it disappeared.