You, Pan, and His Twin ✓ [OUAT Peter Pan X Reader]

What Do You Say Brother, Deal?

Peter's POV

"Hey, there's my favorite little lost boy." I heard a familiar voice say from behind me.

"What do you want?" I snapped and kept writing.

"Oh, nothing really," she said. "Just curious about when I get to get my share of our deal."

"How many times do I have to tell you," I sighed and ran y hand through my hair. "I'm the one dealing with this, not you."

"I know." I could hear a smirk plastered on her lips. I heard footsteps and soon, two hands on my shoulders. Her hands started massaging my shoulders, it felt good.

Well, until—

"You've been telling me to wait for three centuries. I am dying Peter, not you—me." She growled and squeezed my shoulders so tightly I was probably bleeding already.

"You're going to get me that heart in three days time, or else I'm going to feed on yours." I groaned at her grip. "Don't forget, I'm the only one—aside from your own son—who knows how to kill you."

She tightened her grip, which was not impossible after all.

"Don't wait for me to do this my way, it won't be pretty." I could literally feel intense anger in her words. "Have I made myself clear?"

I nodded. "Yes, Piper..." I sighed.

"Good," she released my shoulders. "Have a cookie."

Piper disappeared and a glass of milk and a plate of warm cookies appeared on my worktable. I sighed and closed my eyes.

~FLASHBACK~

"When is Pap gonna come back?" seven year-old Malcolm (or as his sister wanted to call him: Peter) asked Piper.

"He'll come back soon, Peter," Piper replied and rubbed his back to soothe him down. "He'll be back soon."

"He's been gone for ten days, I...I..." the boy stuttered and sobbed into his sister's shirt.

"It's going to be alright, Peter," Piper continued to soothe him. "You know what? To make you feel better, why don't I tell you a story?"

Peter stopped crying and slowly nodded, wiping his nose.

"Good boy," Piper gave him warm smile. "Let's get you to bed first and I'll tell you the story."

"O-okay..." Peter stood from his sister's lap and began to walk to their makeshift bed.

"Peter, since you've been a good boy, let me give you a cookie." Piper stood up as well and walked to the cupboard.

"But...isn't that our last one?" he protested.

"Oh, I'm sure Pap would understand." Piper insisted and gave Peter the cold, hardened pastry. "He'd understand that you've been a good boy."

After Peter finished his treat, Piper tucked him in and told him the story. Peter was about to drift off when Piper ave him one last kiss on the forehead.

"Remember what Pap always told us before we went to bed?" she asked. And Peter mustered a small smile. "Think a happy thought."

Peter awoke on the beach he always visited in his dreams. All his troubles faded away. He was free, it was then he called this island his own. Neverland.

Climbing up trees and jumping off its branches, Peter had fun. Fun he'd never experience anywhere else. He knew anything was possible, and he even ripped off his own shadow.