ONCE UPON A TIME IMAGINES AND PREFERENCES

P. Pan - "Memories" (C)

"I would never live with a guy who's named after a cooking utensil."

"Bloody hell," I muttered as I dragged myself up from the ground. "What was that for, Swan?"

Emma rolled her eyes and came over from where she fell out of the portal. "Pan better appreciate this. You'd think the sister of the man I love would be somewhat less annoying."

I scowled, in a fairly bad mood from waking up not knowing what was going on, almost destroying a small, dull town they call Storybrooke, and being shoved in a bag and tossed through a portal. "What the hell is your issue?! You weren't taken against your will through a portal to Neverland apparently with no idea of what's even going on."

She sighed. "Just shut up and make yourself comfortable. Pan should find us soon enough. He'll know why you woke up in Storybrooke with out-of-control powers and no memories."

I glanced down at my fingertips that hadn't stopped sparking since I blew up some old man's shop a good half hour ago. I did know that my powers were triggered by emotion, and I was no doubt pissed at the moment. With how pesky Killian's lover was being, I was honestly surprised she hadn't been blown into a million pieces yet.

"Whatever," I replied, going to sit down in an area that seemed darker than others.

I didn't even see why I was here, or who this 'Pan' person was that everybody kept talking about. Why was he even relevant?

"Who's Pan?" I blurted out. "And why do you guys keep saying that you need to return his property to him? I am not property."

Emma sat down next to me. "If you can't even remember the guy you've lived with for the past couple years..."

"Live with him? I would never live with a guy who's named after a cooking utensil. He sounds like an ass anyway from what I've heard."

She smirked. "Well, you're not wrong about that. But trust me when I say this: you did live with him, and for a long time too."

I shrugged. "Whatever you say, Swan. I don't have to believe you."

She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by another more masculine voice. "Well look who's come back. I thought after you'd gotten Henry back, you'd be gone forever."

We turned, almost in sync, to look at whoever the voice had come from. The guy looked to be about 17 and had an air of confidence around him that beat Gold's back in Storybrooke. Emma stood to face him eye to eye. "Trust me, it wasn't by choice. I'm just returning something of yours."

With that, she took hold of my upper arm and dragged me to my feet.

"Alright, can you seriously stop? I'm nobody's property, and...". I yanked my arm out of her grasp. "Let go of my arm!"

"y/n?" the boy asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "I..."

Emma shoved me towards him. "She's been a real pain in the ass, so just take her back and I'll be on my way."

This guy, whoever he was, seemed to not have heard her and continued to stare at me.

"Who are you?" I snapped, growing uncomfortable under his gaze.

He smirked. "I'm Peter. Peter Pan."

A few seconds passed as I realized this was who everybody had been talking about. I rose an eyebrow. From how everyone talked about him and how powerful he was, seeing him in person was really unimpressive.

"Now, stop playing games, y/n," he said, taking my hand and looking into my brown eyes with his green ones. "Where have you been for all this time?"

I pulled my hand away to slap him with it. "What the hell are you talking about? What are either of you talking about?"

I stumbled backwards, glancing between both of them. Peter glared at Emma. "What did you do to her?"

He stormed over to her, practically yelling in her face. "Why doesn't she remember?!"

Emma shrugged. "I have no idea! None of us do; that's one of the reasons why we brought her here."

Peter angrily sighed, obviously struggling to keep his cool. "Alright...just leave before I change my mind about letting you go."

Swan nodded, quickly making her way back the way she came. Once she was gone, Pan turned to me, mumbling under his breath. "What am I going to do with you, y/n?"

I frowned as he looked up at me. "I know you don't remember me," he started, "but I love you, y/n. And before you disappeared a few years ago, you loved me too. Now all I have to do is get you to remember."