Always (Hearts and Souls)

After five days spent anchored in the shores off of Neverland, the greatest success they can be said to have had is that nobody had actually murdered anyone else yet.

Not that they hadn't had close calls. Hook and Rumplestilskin spend most of their time explaining to each other exactly how they're going to kill each other as soon as they're done finding the boy. Emma and Regina - both desperate in their fear for their son - have been at each other's throats almost from the exact moment the ship entered the portal, for Regina always turns bitter and cruel when she's desperate, and Emma always gets her back right up against anyone else's slight.

Even Charming spends most of the time - and in Neverland, where there is so often little to do but wait, there is so damn much of it - thinking about stabbing the pirate right through, every time Hook makes a suggestive comment that has his wife rolling her eyes and his daughter looking more intrigued than he really cares to consider.

"I'm tired of sitting around doing nothing," Snow mutters into the crook of Charming's neck, as she leans her head on his shoulder. "It's not helping anything. It's not helping Henry. I need to do something."

No one had warned them that the pirate could apparently hear like a cat. "Oh there's plenty around here to do," Hook says from across deck, swarmy in a way only he could pull off. "If you're looking in the right places, that is."

Right on cue, Snow rolls her eyes, Emma looks up, half a smirk twisting at her lips, and Charming ponders his sword and thinks the liver would be a delightfully painful part of the pirate's body to aim for.

"Pity though," Hook sighs, as always knowing exactly when he should shut up but continuing on anyway. "Your husband seems ready to chop off my other hand."

"Skewer you through your liver, actually," Charming announces, as cheerfully as he can muster.

The pirate laughs, eying Charming, plainly speculating. "There it is," Hook finally says.

"What?"

"The attitude we're going to need to save your grandson. The attitude you need to survive Neverland."

"And what attitude is that?" Charming asked.

The pirate stands, makes his way over to the door to his living quarters, walking in the way of a man who knows everyone is only paying attention to him.

"Fearlessness," Hook calls behind him, just as he slams his door shut.


Rumplestilskin heads back to his own sleeping area soon after Hook's departure, apparently satisfied with the idea of sleep now that he no longer has to focus all of his considerable attention on glaring at the pirate; which leaves Snow and Charming, Emma and Regina together on deck, the most awkward family tree there has ever been.

Emma flies to her feet.

"Let's go," she insists, desperation showing in her fierceness, inherited from her mother. She is speaking to her parents, but it's Regina who responds first.

"Are you insane?"

"You heard Hook!" Emma exclaims, voice held just barely in check enough to not qualify as a yell, patience gone.

"Pirate," Charming mutters.

His daughter and stepmother-in-law ignore him. "He says fearlessness is what's going to save Henry," Emma continues as if Charming hadn't said anything. "I'm ready. And I'm not going to wait any more. I'm going."

"You're going to get us all killed," Regina snaps. "You have no idea what you're doing, no idea what you're up against. Hook and the imp know this land, know how to handle it, and they've both clearly decided now is not the time to go bounding off the ship. Go to bed, Ms Swan. Wait for the people who know what they're doing."

"The people who know what they're doing are doing nothing!" Emma shrieks. "I'm not going to wait until they say it's okay to go save Henry!"

"I will not have you traipsing around uselessly, risking my son all the while..."

"My son," Emma hisses, the barb cruelly thrown, aimed to maim Regina, aimed to hurt right back the way Regina had just hurt her with the suggestion she would ever risk Henry's safety. "He's mine, in ways he will never be yours."

Regina recoils, paling, but she is not one to ever back down from a fight. "Legally, he's mine, and Ms. Swan, we both know that's the only way that really matters."

"Not here," Emma snaps, gesturing towards the island they're ported at. "We're in Neverland now, and odds are pretty good none of us will ever see Storybrooke again. Your laws mean nothing here Regina. You can clutch at your adoption papers all you want, but we both know who Henry's mom is..."

"Enough!" Snow calls out finally, stopping the argument right when it looked as though fists were ready to fly. "This isn't helping your son. Both of you. He calls you both mom, he loves you both, and that's the way that matters. Em," she says, turning to her daughter, hands on her shoulders. "You and I both know that you're going to make whatever decision you feel is best, regardless of what everyone else thinks. Mother's prerogative. And because of that, you and I also both know that I will go following you off this ship into the unknown if that's what you choose to do. But Em, we don't know what we're doing here. Hook's obviously been waiting for something, and if he's seen it now, we can finally take action. But for now, let's follow his example, and wait for daybreak."

Emma stares at her mother, wide-eyed. "At dawn. We do something?"

"Yes," Snow promises.

"You'll come with me?"

"We both will," Charming jumps in. "You're not in this alone, Em. You're never going to be in anything alone, ever again."

All the fight goes out of Emma in a rush, as she slumps down, letting her father pull her into a hug.

"I'm so scared, Dad," she whispers.

"I know," Charming tells her, closing his eyes. "Me too."


With a look, Snow had easily communicated to Charming that he should take their daughter to her room below decks, comfort her, get her to go to sleep. Emma had long been more comfortable with her mother, but right this minute, Emma is little more than a little girl who needs her father to reassure her, and with a look back, Charming both understands and agrees.

The sight of it, the easy, wordless communication only possible between the truest of loves, still twists Regina's stomach to watch.

Envy, she thinks, is the root of much hatred.

Still though, something had changed between her and her step-daughter with the realization of who had saved her, and now left alone, they watch each other warily, but without the murderous intent that had long punctuated their relationship.

It's a strange thing, Regina thinks, for all the years that they've hated each other, they still owe each other their lives many times over.

This time seems different.

This one could heal something that had long been broken.

Regina swallows. "I can't believe you called me Henry's mom, too."

Snow almost manages a smile. "I don't know why it would. You've been his mother his entire life. He loves you. Of course you're his mom. I think you and Emma are just going to have to find a way to accept that to him, he's just always going to have two."

"I'm getting there. Or... I thought I was getting there."

"Em is too. It's just hard right now. Fear makes people lash out."

"Yes," Regina sighs. "There is no denying that."

They are quiet for a long time, sitting together, staring out at the water, at the dangers beyond it.

"I am sorry," Snow finally says, voice impressively steady. "I need you to know that. I'm so sorry for what I did to you."

Regina doesn't look at her, just tilts her head, an acknowledgment. "I know you are. You've never been cruel, Snow. You don't have the stomach for it. I have been, and I do. My mother and I were prepared to kill you all. I wanted my son back. My mother would have done anything to claim him for me, and I wouldn't have cared. You, James, Emma, we would have killed all three of you, with no regret. In killing my mother, you were in truth doing nothing but saving yourself and your family. I would have expected nothing less from you."

"I shouldn't have tricked you into doing it," Snow whispers.

"No," Regina agrees. "But then, you wouldn't have been able to do it yourself. You would have been dead before you got within twenty feet of Cora. And you knew that. It was manipulative and cruel in a way I never would have suspected you capable of, and for that, it was conniving and clever. Having those traits in you is going to serve you well here. It will help you help me save my son."

"But at what cost?" Snow asks, bitter.

For many long moments, Regina does not respond, until she finally turns and looks at Snow for the first time.

"You know I no longer have any interest in seeing you dead," Regina says, carefully.

"Yes?" Snow asks, every bit as wary as Regina is careful.

"So stay calm," Regina orders. "There's something you need to see."

And with that said, she reaches into Snow's chest, and wrenches out her heart before the younger woman can so much as shriek.

But with Snow's heart now in her hand, Regina is exceedingly gentle. "Breathe," Regina tells her. "Look. And remember."

Staring at her own heart in her stepmother's hand, Snow trembles, seeking the dark, finding it, but...

"Remember," Regina insists again, voice almost hypnotic in its calmness.

"The dark spot," Snow says, wonderingly. "It was bigger before."

"You are good, Snow," Regina tells her quietly. "Your heart is good. Pure. Darkness can only encroach if you let it. But so will it fall back if you fight it. Five days ago, you saved my life. And look how your dark spot has shrunk since. Down to a speck, hardly anything at all. One that slight, it would practically vanish with good manners. Darkness can never win against a heart such as yours."

"But you said..."

"I wanted to hurt you then, Snow. I wanted to punish you. I wanted you to pay."

"And now?"

"Now? You're the little girl who couldn't keep a secret I shouldn't have burdened you with, all grown up into a woman who has saved my life several times over, in spite of all I've done to you. You've got the purest heart I've ever known, and I shall always envy it," Regina sighs, before finally shoving Snow's heart back into her chest, again as gently as she can.

"Any heart can be saved, Regina," Snow murmurs, hope shining in her eyes again, back where it had been missing.

"Oh I doubt mine can be, dear."

"Sure it can. It already has. I wish I could show you, as you just showed me. Your heart is healing."

"How do you figure?"

"Henry," Snow says simply. "You learned how to love again. That wouldn't have been possible with an entirely darkened heart. The Evil Queen would have happily crushed my heart in her hand. But you only showed me something I needed to see. You reassured me. That's kindness, Regina. Imagine what it must be doing for your heart."

"You've got your optimism back I see," Regina replies, amused.

Snow smiles, and it's real this time. "Now we've just got to find yours."

Emotionally worn down, Regina shakes her head, then turns for her own sleeping quarters. "I'll work on that," she murmurs. "Sleep well, Snow. We have my son to find in the morning."

"Good night, Regina."


Snow is close to turning in herself, wanting to join her husband, when she hears someone clear their throat from behind her. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, yet again, she turns away from the water to face Hook.

The pirate walks up next to her, joining her at the stern of the ship, looking out towards Neverland.

"It's going to have to be you," Hook finally says, after a long stretch of quiet.

"Excuse me?" Snow asks, not understanding, half expecting another distasteful joke.

"To save the boy," Hook clarifies. "It needs to be you. And your husband, I suppose. It can't be any of the rest of us."

"What do you mean?" she asks, feeling a cold shiver of fear.

"The crocodile and I are known here," Hook sighs. "If we were to draw attention to the fact that we've returned... it would not go well."

"But Emma and Regina. They're Henry's mothers. They have every right to..."

"Of course they do," Hook interrupts. "That's not the question here. Neverland is not a land of right and wrong, Snow. By rights it should be them. But if they tried anything, we'd all be lost to this land forever. This land is home to a shadow, enemy and hoarder of magic both. Emma and Regina would try to use magic to get their Henry back, and the moment they reveal they have it, they would spark the shadow's obsession. Grown-ups, having magic? It is against this land's laws. Here, they believe only children should have such power. They have travelled the world, collecting it, stealing it. There is no place in all the realms that has more magic, and yet, it is not natural, and cursed for it. Magic seized invokes a terrible price. The atrocities they commit to claim magic... Emma and Regina would be maimed and tortured, and forced to watch as the rest of us were captured and killed, right in front of them, one by one. There would be no stopping it."

"If Emma and Regina hid their magic..." Snow tries desperately.

"There's no hiding it. Not here. The shadow has all sorts of magical creatures on his side; mermaids and a pixie-fairy whose loyalty to Pan stretches to obsession. If either Emma or Regina got anywhere close to 'Tink', she'd sense the magic in them. And even if she couldn't sense it, neither one of those two would be able to contain it once they saw Henry. They'd reveal it immediately. They both tend to lose their heads over the boy; they have been already. They'd fight their way to him, and the only weapon those two really have to them is magic. You and your husband are far more capable of fighting the way you'll need to than they are."

"But Charming and I... Magic..."

"True love is different," Hook says, guessing her train of thought, a surprising amount of respect in his eyes. "Powerful, magnificent. It's a hidden magic, latent, and because it's between two, not within one, the pixie cannot sense it. You'd be able to get past her without her realizing that you have any magic to you. And you'll be able to fight, be able to do what needs to be done. You both love the boy, but he is not yours. That will allow you to keep focus in a way that neither Emma nor Regina can."

"It has to be us," Snow murmurs, finally accepting it.

Hook half-smiles at her. "At least it's not just one of you? The two of you don't seem to do overly well at dealing with being separated. But together, you're formidable."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think that was sincere."

"It is," Hook says with a smile. "Your husband's not awake, I don't have to torture him by hitting on you."

She laughs, choked but real. "Why do you have to torture him at all?"

He smiles at her. "To get him ready. Riled up, so to speak. I wasn't kidding earlier, fearlessness is necessary to survive Neverland. The more he feels like killing me, the more he is capable of doing what he'll need to to get us all out of here alive, your grandson included."

"You really care about him?"

"I owe Bae. I tore his life to shreds with a rivalry and a hatred that he was innocent of. I owe it to him to help save his son, little though I can do now that I've gotten you to Neverland."

"You know what you're doing," she says. "When none of the rest of us have a clue. That counts for something."

"Aye," Hook sighs. "I suppose it does."

She smiles, then groans. "Telling Emma and Regina is going to be hell."

"Oh, telling them wouldn't work. They'd only ignore us anyway. We're going to need a plan..."


When Emma had fallen asleep on his shoulder, Charming had decided he just... wouldn't move. It wasn't worth waking her.

A father only got so many chances to sit up with his daughter, protecting her from all that lurked in the dark. About two dozen years too late, he'd take it.

As time passes, he wonders about Snow, but he figures she'd probably just turned in for the night to the hammock they'd claimed as their own.

Lured to sleep by the sound of Emma's steady breathing, he even manages to doze off.

When he wakes, it's to the sound of his wife's outraged shriek.

He tries to fly to his feet without disturbing Emma, but needn't have bothered, for his daughter wakes with a start, calling out, "Mom?!"

He'd have to take a moment to be touched by her concern for her mother, if not for the fact that he's worried too, and the two of them fly out the door of the tiny room together, only to find Hook lying flat on his back, Snow holding an arrow to his jugular.

"The pointy end goes in, sweetheart," the pirate chokes out, innuendo-laden even with a weapon held to his throat.

Doesn't matter what he did, Charming decides, he'll kill him himself, and he's reaching for his sword when his daughter grabs his arm to stop him.

"What happened?" Emma asks.

"Hook was getting ready to abandon ship," Snow snaps, shoving the arrow closer to the pirate's skin. "Leave the rest of us here to be killed, no doubt."

"Why?!" Emma demands, stepping forward, letting go of her father's arm. "You were all gung-ho about our rescue mission last night."

"There's a price on my head here, love," Hook said. "Figured I could exchange you lot to the shadow in exchange for my freedom. Tried to sneak out. Didn't exactly plan on your mama being such an early riser."

"You son of a bitch," Charming hisses.

"He's lying," Emma insists. "I can see it. What the hell are you up to, Hook?"

"Who cares?" Charming snaps. "I'll kill him and we'll be done with it."

"Rock, paper, scissors for that joy," the imp says from out of no where, as he walks forward, glaring distastefully at the pirate. His hand is shaky on his cane though, and he looks unusually weak, eyes glassy, as if he'd emerged from a dream that haunted him. Not wanting to ask, Charming turns back to where his wife has Hook at her mercy.

Snow is shaking her head. "His death solves nothing. We won't know what he was really planning. We put him in the cell below decks, take turns watching him, see if someone can get him to talk."

"I'll do it," Emma decides, glaring.

"Don't be absurd, Ms. Swan," Regina says, appearing from her quarters. "We both know I'm the best versed in getting him to talk."

"We're not going to torture it out of him," Emma snaps. "Knowing him he'd take it as a turn-on."

"I wasn't thinking torture," Regina snaps back. "You'll understand if I find that a bit distasteful at the moment."

"Either way, I don't trust you with him right now."

"Likewise, Ms. Swan."

Snow rolls her eyes far more profoundly than she ever had with one of Hook's many one-liners. "Charming, throw your hands up in the air in my stead, my arms are a little busy right now."

Her husband just laughs, despite the situation. "Is there a certain height you'd prefer, or..."

She only snorts in reply, then turns back to the still bickering other women. "Help me get the pirate to the cell, and then you both can take first watch together."

"Fine!" they both snap at once, and in the realization of it, turn back to glare at each other.

"So we're not going to be killing him today?" Rumpletstilskin asks, just to be sure.

"No!"

"Pity," he sighs, limping back off to his quarters. Charming seems to agree with the sentiment, as he pulls his hand off his sword and hangs his head in disappointment, just for a second.

It's long enough, with everyone else not paying attention, for the pirate to deliver the princess the slightest wink.


Twenty minutes later, Snow has managed to get the pirate into his cell, largely single-handedly, for Emma and Regina could not stop arguing long enough to be much help, or to really pay any attention at all to what was going on. With a mighty shove, Hook falls back into the cell, and she turns back, slams the gate shut.

"Like it rough, do you sweetheart?" Hook asks.

She raises an eyebrow at him, watches his smirk turn to a squirm. "With my husband, I like it any way I can get it."

"Ew," Emma groans, picking the exact wrong moment to start paying attention.

Snow laughs, sheepish. "Sorry. Keep an eye on him, will you?"

Pulling up a stool to sit by the right side of the cell, Emma nods. "Of course," she says, glaring as Regina mirrors her actions at the left side.

Hook grins at her as she turns to head back up the stairs. "Well this should be fun, I think!"

She's still sighing as she makes it back above deck, looking behind her carefully to make sure that neither of the other women had followed her up, then glancing around to make sure the imp was out of sight.

There's no one but Charming on deck now, and left alone, he's still looking sulky.

She reaches for her husband, pulls him to the edge of the ship. "Get over it, you'll be using your sword soon enough. Come on."

He just looks startled. "Where?"

She's already hoisting herself over the ship the rope ladder she'd thrown down towards land.

"We've got a grandson to save," she whispers.


"Tell me," he whispers, barely a breath, as he follows his wife through the thick jungle of Neverland, "why we are doing this without Emma?"

"Because odds are pretty good this is a suicide mission," Snow whispers right back. "And I cannot lose Em."

He grabs her hand from behind, tries to tease her. "So I'm dispensable then?"

"Hardly," Snow replies, managing to smile. "I just could never go on a suicide mission without you."

His eyes are loving. "So romantic," he teases again.

She manages to hold back the giggle, but only just.

He always was good at bringing joy even to the darkest situations.

"Partners in crime?" she asks, as they approach a high banking slope.

"Partners in crime," he agrees, and together, they inch up to peer around the bank.

He sucks in a breath just as she gasps.

The inactive volcano before them, ancient and long ago deadened into dormancy had opened up into a cave, massive and foreboding.

There are people all around, all male, young bodied, ancient eyed. Dangerous, deadly.

The Lost Boys.

"He's here, isn't he?" Charming breathes into his wife's ear.

"He has to be," she whispers back.


"Got a plan?" Charming asks.

"Find another way in," Snow replies. "See how the entryway there is cracked open? That doesn't just happen once. There will be other ways in. We find one, wait for nightfall... and then just do the best we can?"

Charming shrugs. "Better than anything I was coming up with. I was all for just running in there now, swords out. I think your way might give us a better chance of coming out alive."

"So we'll go with that then."

"We go with that," he agrees.

She's right. It takes some time spent wandering around the volcano, but there is another crack in its ancient walls, hidden by the jungle's overgrowth. Instinct alone had allowed them to find it, and it's subtle enough to make them wonder if even the Lost Boys don't know about it. Peering in only briefly, they immediately see that it will give them access to the cavern out front.

Recoiling into the bushes, pulling her with him, he hides them as best as he can in the wild flora of the jungle.

"And now we wait," she sighs.

He doesn't say anything, just hums in agreement, pulling Snow back into his arms, as they prepare to wait out many hours in hiding.

He suspects most people couldn't do it, spending an entire day in hiding, danger lurking all the while, hands on weapons, ready to fight, hardly speaking for fear of getting caught.

Prince Charming, however, has Snow White there with him, and with her at his side he was pretty sure he could do just about anything. He doesn't need anything else, never has. Just her. She's enough.

A day spent holding Snow. He could think of many worse things.

"You seem different," he whispers at one point. "Or maybe just back to the same," he corrects himself when she looks at him. "It's a good thing. You seem like you."

She smiles. "I talked to Regina last night, after you took Emma to her quarters. It helped."

He doesn't bother hiding his shock. "Since when does talking to Regina help matters?"

"Since last night," she says, swatting at him. "Pay attention, Charming."

He chuckles, careful to keep it quiet. "My mistake."

"I think we came to an understanding after all these years," she sighs wonderingly. "Imagine that."

"There's stranger things," he replies, accepting it easily, trusting her judgement in the way only he could.

"Don't freak out," Snow says warningly, "but she pulled my heart out again." She snorts as she feels him tense around her, his hands gripping her noticeably tighter. "I said don't freak out. It wasn't a threat. She just wanted to show me. The dark spot, Charming. It's shrunk, considerably. I'm fighting the darkness, and I'm winning."

"Regina wanted to show you this?" he asks, bewilderingly caught between feeling joy at the message and incredulous towards the messenger.

"She's changing," Snow explains simply. "I think she's fighting the darkness too." She looks up at him, hopefully. "Do you think she could?"

He smiles at her, so fond. "If you believe it, I believe it."

She hugs him then, kisses his neck gently where his collar is open. "I'm going to be okay, Charming. We all are. And we're going to get Henry back. Tonight."

"Tonight," he agrees, and together, they watch the sun set on Neverland.


Night in Neverland is a haunting thing. The collected magic, the humming energy of it is powerful enough to feel, skimming their skin like the blade of a knife. The very air vibrates with it, the feel of extraordinary magic heavy in a land it did not belong in.

Magic ebbs and flows like the sea, obeying no laws but those of nature. Obtaining it through artificial means had punished Neverland and those who lived in it. Breaking them. Destroying their humanity.

Those who live in Neverland shall never grow old, enough magic long ago gathered together to grant Peter Pan's greatest wish, unending youth. The price of obtaining such magic, the highest anyone could ever pay.

To live in Neverland, to remain forever young, is to sacrifice one's soul.

Sacrifice like that, leaves marks.

They emerge from their hiding place into the eerie, shimmery purple air, and Charming shivers as soon as he walks into it.

"What is this?" he asks.

"Magic," Snow replies. "So much of it, the very air bleeds with it, yet they still want more. It's the price of their obsession. They will never be able to have enough magic to satisfy the desire for it."

Deep in the jungle behind them, there is a mermaids' lagoon. They sing together, tragically beautiful, and their voices carry far enough for Snow and Charming to hear, the fine hairs on the back of Snow's neck standing on end at the sound of it.

Their song, she knows, is a lament for their souls.

"Cheerful place," Charming decrees sarcastically.

Snow can't even bring herself to smile in reply, stomach churning in horror. "We need to get Henry out of here," she insists. "Before Neverland takes him for its own."

Charming doesn't have time to consider the crypticness of that statement, before his wife is throwing herself forward, into the opening of the cave they'd discovered earlier that morning.

He doesn't think, doesn't need to. As always, he will follow his wife into the abyss.

Side by side, they run through the caves, desperation giving them speed, instinct driving their direction.

Eventually, they emerge towards an open cavern, its ceiling clearly having caved in long ago, for when they look up now, all they see is the night sky. They duck behind a rock pile, remnants of what once was ceiling, now a reasonable hiding place for their purposes. Carefully peering around, they evaluate the scene, observing everything, missing nothing.

It's empty, disturbingly so, but for one small soul.

Soul.

"Henry," Snow hisses, staring at the cell they have him locked in, little more than a cage. Hatred for his kidnappers twists her stomach, and she prepares to propel herself forward, towards her grandson, when Charming grabs her, holding her back.

"It has to be a trap, has to be a trick, they wouldn't have left him alone like this..."

"I don't care," she says, voice caught on the edge of a sob. "We fight now, or we fight later, I don't care, he's Emma's son, and we have to get him out of here!"

"Okay," he whispers, steadying her. "Okay. Be ready to fight. And Snow?" he starts, before kissing her fiercely. "Fight like hell."

"Always," she whispers back, a promise, kissing him quickly, but equal in her desperation, before throwing herself out from their hiding place, Charming hot on her heels, not willing to leave her alone in the openness for a second.

They reach the cage within seconds, approach far from stealthy. The noise of it startles their grandson, and he turns abruptly, fear turning quickly to disbelieving joy in his eyes.

"Gramps? Grams? You're here? Where's Mom?"

"She's alright," Charming reassures, even as he looks around wildly for something to pick the lock with. "Both your moms are. They're taking care of something back at the ship."

"We're the rescue mission," Snow declares, already working at the lock, for she'd plucked an arrow from the holder she carries at her back. "Your moms' magic would have have been too noticeable here. Your grandfather and I are a bit more subtle."

She ignores Charming spinning to stare at her in both amazement at her ingenuity and shock at the obvious simplicity of what she tells her grandson.

"Why do I suddenly have the feeling that there's more going on than you've told me?" he asks her.

"Didn't seem the time or place for a lengthy conversation," she points out, finally getting the lock to click and wrenching the gate open. "I'll fill you in once we're safe," she tells him, just as their grandson throws himself into her arms.

"You came, you came," Henry cried. "I knew you all would come for me, I told Tamara."

"We sure did, buddy," Charming tells him, accepting the child's embrace as he turns to him next. "But it's not over yet. We've got to get you out of here, and your part of this mission is super important. Did they tell you why they brought you here?"

Henry shakes his head, eyes wide and fearful. "They only told me I'm important, then locked me up here. Someone's been bringing me food and water. They haven't hurt me at all. I can tell they want me alive, but I don't know more than that. This is a bad place, Gramps. I want out of here."

"We're going to get you out," he promises, looking to his wife for her to reassure their grandson with him, but noticing her distraction, he turns to find her staring at a tiny fairy, a pixie, some long forgotten memory reminds him helpfully.

"Hello Tink," Snow says, voice colder than he's ever heard of her. "Better go running off to your master, huh? You've finally got something big to tell him! Why, he might even have to pay attention to you this time!"

The pixie's face goes scarlet with rage, and she flies away into the night without a word.

Snow doesn't even bother turning back to face them.

"Run," she tells them flatly, urgently for it. "Now. Back to the ship. Run."


He doesn't wait for her to say it again, grabbing their grandson's hand, pulling him upright, motioning him in front of them, taking off running as soon as the boy does, his wife at his side, prepared to run for their lives.

They make it out of the cave, but no further, before they are ambushed. Snow doesn't bother going for the bow and arrow she's more comfortable with - having no time to grab for it, she reaches for her sword. Charming already has his out, swinging viciously at the attacking Lost Boys. He's got one arm wrapped protectively around their grandson, and still, he's far more skilled with the weapon than any of their attackers are. Snow too, with both hands free to her, is far more gifted with the sword than any of the Lost Boys.

They are more talented with the weapons, but they are drastically outnumbered, by an 8 to 1 ratio at Snow's best guess. They are taking their lumps, each having cried out several times as a sword breaks their skin, but its only surface wounds, all likely quick to heal.

Henry's terrified screams cut far deeper scars on them both.

Together, they take out a solid half dozen of the Boys, enough to create an opening in the circle the Boys had made around them. They will soon close back in, reform another circle, smaller and tighter, and in this short lived opportunity, Snow knows it's time to take an extraordinary risk.

Take Henry and run, she tells her husband with her eyes alone, but it's enough, in true love it's always enough.

They've never needed words to speak.

He stares right back at her, wide eyed and terrified, and she knows the message was received loud and clear, as he shakes his head frantically.

This, he needs to hear... and the Lost Boys won't understand anyway, she thinks. "You know I can't," she cries out, taking on three of the boys all the while. "I'm not strong enough. I can't carry... you can. It has to be you. It has to be now."

"No!" he cries back, as he stabs another one of the Boys right through. I can't leave you, his eyes say.

"We can't keep Henry safe here," she cries. He's our daughter's son. We have to save him. He needs to be the priority. He's more important than me.

There is agony in his eyes when the acceptance finally comes, and he kills another one of the Boys, working his sword with his right arm as he picks up Henry with his left, and just as the Boys attempt to reorganize themselves, he takes the opportunity to break through the opening they'd created, their grandson in his arms.

"Fight like hell!" he yells furiously to her even as he runs.

The Boys weren't expecting it, for one of them to run, and in the split second they all freeze in attempt to decide what to do next, Snow is able to get her bow off her shoulder and arrows in her hands, and when two of the Boys separate from the pack to chase after Charming, she takes them down quickly, easily, with well placed shots. Slashing out with her sword with one arm in the same motion as she flips her bow back onto her shoulder again with the other, she takes down the two remaining of the trio she'd been taking on as she tried to convince Charming to run.

Seven left, she thinks, as they charge at her. She can handle seven.


Snow was always gifted with weapons, Charming thinks desperately as he runs, trying all the while to ignore Henry's screams for Snow, trying to hold back his own hysterical sobs. Every bone in his body aches to get back to his wife, but he knows she was right. They cannot have Henry in the middle of the fight without risking him, he cannot leave him alone now, and he was the only one who could have gotten their grandson out of there safely. Snow is strong, but carrying a preteen boy while running is out of her wheelhouse.

He reaches the edge of the jungle, from where he can see the sea where he knows the Jolly Roger is anchored, invisible and magically protected, before finally putting Henry down. He realizes as he does so that Snow had managed to keep any of the boys from following them. Pride, fierce pride in his wife seizes him. She's a skilled fighter. She can do this. He spins back around to face towards the fight. Having carried Henry to slightly higher ground, he has a perfect vantage point to watch for his wife's safety, all the while keeping Henry out of harms way.

The boy is struggling against him, insisting that they need to go back, crying out for his grandmother, and still, he holds Henry against him, keeping his face turned into his chest, making sure he cannot watch what goes on not all that far below them.

She's got her attackers' numbers down to five, he thinks desperately, hopefully. Her movement with the sword has gotten wilder, less controlled, an indication of her fatigue, and still, she slashes down another. Four, he thinks, then three. Soon two...

His wordless shout of horror gets caught in his throat as he watches her take down the third, for as that one falls, the two remaining Boys have gotten her cornered, one at her back, one at her front, and their faces have twisted into identical grins of satisfaction. He's moved back towards them without realizing, faster than he would have known possible of himself, back within twenty yards of the fighting trio, but that's okay, that's enough, that's easily within his range.

At the top of his lungs, he yells.

"HEY!"


She's pretty sure she's dead, she thinks, as she continues to take on the last few of the Lost Boys. She can see what they're doing, putting themselves just within deadly range of her sword's swing, forcing her to take wilder and feebler swings, wearing her out. The ones that put themselves into her path are killed, of course, for the self-sacrifice of the soulless is an easy thing, done without thought or realization until it's too late.

Her destruction is the goal, and the Boys do not care how many of their own have to die, if they themselves have to die, so long as that goal is met.

Yes, she knows what they're doing, pushing her towards the end, trapping her, cornering her; but it's when there's none but two left, one facing her, one at her back, that she knows she's lost.

Bit of a piss-off, she thinks, to die so close to survival.

The one at her front is sneering triumphantly, and she suspects the expression is mirrored on the face of the one at her back, the disturbing grin of the soulless, for whom the ends always justify the means.

She thinks, absurdly, of Charming, of him laughing at her as she dangled twenty feet above him in a trap of his own creation; laughing at her as she gave him the nickname he'd embraced as his own.

She'd wanted him even then, she thinks, this man who would fight so hard, so determinedly for what he wanted; and for forever more after that day, what he'd wanted was her.

Fight like hell, she thinks, and she raises her sword in front of her once more, for if she is to go down, she's going to go down fighting.

But then, when she hears her husband's yell, going down seems like the best idea she's had all day.

"HEY!" Charming screams, and that's her cue.

She throws herself to the ground, gets out of the way, even as the two Lost Boys spin to face the source of the yell, and she knows without seeing it, that their mistake was fatal.

In the attempt to entrap her, the Boys had put themselves perfectly in line with each other, and when she had suddenly ducked, the one that had been up against her back had stumbled forward, right into and against the other.

The thrown sword had gone right through them both, impaling them together.

Charming's aim always was rather spectacular.

Rolling out from under the feet of the last two, dying boys, with some final burst of adrenaline and energy, she pulls herself up to stand, watching as the last flickers of life vanish from the Lost Boys' already so deadened eyes.

"Future reference, boys," she can't resist saying. "When he yells 'hey', best idea is to get out of the way. But then again," she says, wrenching her husband's sword from their bodies, watching them fall, "you're already dead."

Knowing that an attacking troop of Lost Boys is far from the only danger Neverland holds, she drags her exhausted body forward into a stumbling half-jog, the fastest she can manage, but it must be decent, for it seems only seconds later that she finds herself in her husband's arms, their grandson caught between them.

"Thanks for the save," she manages to joke, clutching at Charming. "What's that now, me 300, you 299?"

"Something like that," Charming says, choked. "You're still ahead in the count, I see."

"Well yeah. Always gotta win, don't I?"

"You can have all the wins you want," he tells her. "You've earned it. You did amazingly."

"You think?" she asks.

"That was AWESOME!" Henry finally volunteers from between them. "You should have your own theme music, Grams."

She wouldn't have guessed she was capable of laughter, but between her and Charming, it's startled from them both.

"Let's get back to the ship," she says, finally. "Please."


It turns out, the pirate does not actually have any end to his lengthy list of innuendos and come-ons, as he manages to spend all day cheerfully taunting them in answer to every question, without repeating himself once.

That takes some serious skill.

"I was supposed to spend today searching for my son," Emma hisses, furious. "Instead I spend it with you two listening to this crap. How about I just shove my fist down your throat, will you talk then?"

"Come now darlin', we both know there's many more fun things we can do with your fist than that."

She shrieks, an outraged, wordless shout of frustrated anger.

Regina rolls her eyes. "You walked right into that one."

"At least I'm trying, here!" Emma snaps, spinning to face the other woman. "What have you done all day, other than sit there looking unimpressed?"

"I kept waiting for you to get tired and shut yourself up, dear, though you've surprised me again. I wouldn't have dared expected you to be so completely full of hot air!"

"Are you calling me an airhead?!"

"Jumping to that conclusion awfully quick, Ms. Swan. Perhaps your self-knowledge is finally improving."

"You are so full of yourself it's obscene! The Disney movie got you down good, I can so picture you spending your days getting your mirror to tell you you're pretty!"

"Oh an Evil Queen jab, how creative."

"Yes, Evil Queen! That's supposed to be you, so do me a favour and Evil Queenify him, get him to talk, threaten to rip his heart out, I don't care..."

"Ah, she's tried that," Hook interjects. "Doesn't really work on me, old trick, you know. You on the other hand, all full of surprises..."

"Shut up!" both women demand at once, and distracted by it, they spin back to glare at each other.

Snow finds them like that, as she comes down the stairs, her husband following immediately behind her; Charming unwilling to let his wife out of his sight for even a second. Their entrance goes unnoticed, Emma and Regina viciously bickering, and Hook cheerfully standing at the gate to the cell watching them go at it, gripping the bars, grinning from ear-to-ear, looking for all the world like all he needed was a bag of popcorn and he'd be set. He even starts motioning with his fists, bouncing like a boxer ready for the championship fight. "I think that the only way this can be settled is with a slap fight," he proclaims, near giddy.

That's quite enough for Charming. "Hey!" he calls out.

Annoyed with the interruption, Emma and Regina turn to face them, Hook looking in their direction too, then everyone freezes.

Snow supposes it probably makes an amusing tableau, Hook gripping the bars of his cell, amused delight falling off his face in exchange for dawning respect; Emma and Regina frozen in place, eyes widening in shock even as they're still half turned towards each other, arms half raised as if actually ready to engage in Hook's desired catfight; and the three of them on the old, tiny stair case, Snow on the lower step, Charming behind her, holding onto her with his free hand, unwilling and unable to let her go just yet, and in his other arm, still carried, still held carefully to him, Henry, his beaming grin stretched clear across his face.

It's the most ridiculous thing she's probably ever said, but in her exhaustion it needs saying anyway. "The 'hey' is only deadly when he yells it. Just in case anyone needed clarification."

Charming is the only one who gets it, snorting with relieved laughter, shoulders shaking, and he finally puts his grandson down on his own feet, letting Henry go hurling towards his still frozen mothers.

"Hi Moms!" Henry cheerfully chirps, "Guess what? Grams and Gramps totally saved me, and it was awesome. They should have their own comic book!"

Emma bursts into violent tears, pulling her son into an embrace, clutching him tight. Regina reaches out with a shaking hand to touch Henry's shoulder, but she seems content with that, as she looks up to stare at Snow and Charming.

"Thank you," she whispers fervently. "I'm never going to forget this."

"Yes, yes, well done," Hook says cheerfully, pushing the gate to his cell open with ease, it having never been locked, strolling right past the women who had unsuccessfully been trying to interrogate him all day. "Simply splendid. Shall I go ahead and assume we need to get the hell out of here now that we've got the boy back?"

"That'd be good," Charming says, even as he stares at the pirate bewilderedly. "There will be more unwelcome company coming for us soon I sus... did you forget to lock the cell?" he asks his wife, cutting himself off mid sentence.

"No worries, mate," Hook says, as he starts up the stairs. "I was always only the distraction to let the two of you go after our little friend here. Gotta admit, wasn't really expecting to see you back this soon. Must have kicked some serious ass. Your wife's rather extraordinary, did you know? Shame she's yours."

Charming glares at the pirate's departing back. "Can I kill him now?" he asks Snow, pleading.

She only laughs in reply. "Personally I think he's of more use to us alive. Spare him a few moments, let him get us out of Neverland at least."

He huffs. "If you insist."

They all follow Hook back above decks, Snow and Charming immediately heading to ready the ship's sails as Hook works the wheel. Regina brings up the rear, hanging back, unsure of her place both on the ship, and with the family that had saved her son. Emma has guided Henry to a bench in the middle, sitting him down so that she can carefully check him over, see for herself that he's been returned to her without harm, when they all hear it, the furious hiss from above them.

As Hook had predicted the night before, Emma and Regina both react instinctively, magic exploding out of them, encasing the ship around them in a protective, shimmering purple dome.

Snow pales. Hook swears. And at the sight of the magic, the shadow flying above them loses it, caught in a spitting, violent, murderous rage.

"Hello, Pan," Hook calls up, resigned.


"Now what?" Emma asks.

"We're going to have to come up with something quick," Hook insists, as he tries desperately to keep the ship under control, the water churning below wild with the influence of so much magic. "Our shadowy friend makes his life out of seizing magic. He'll absorb this lovely bubble of yours within minutes, and then we're all dead. We've got to kill the thing."

"How the hell do we kill a shadow?!" Charming demands, furious.

Snow stares up at it, its glowing, soulless eyes. "Every shadow comes from something. It has to have a corporeal form we can kill."

"Yeah, well, I'm not seeing one!" Regina snaps.

"Of course not," Snow replies, too calm, as if in shock. "This shadow is only magic. We weaken the shadow, we reveal the true form, we kill it."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Regina demands.

"By aiming for the one weakness all magical creatures share."

"Its eyes?" Charming, Emma, and Regina all ask together.

Hook claps his hands together. "Brilliant! So we're all in agreement then. Next step... how in the hell are you planning on getting to its eyes?"

"We'll only have one shot at him," Snow realizes, wary.

"It can't be me," Charming says, looking down at her. "My sword's too heavy, throwing it straight up, it won't get close to him before gravity sends it back down. It has to be an arrow."

"Mom's the only one of all of us who can shoot worth a damn," Emma murmurs from where she clutches Henry to her.

"Can you do it?" Charming asks his wife.

Snow looks terrified. "A shot like that would need to be perfect, one in a million. It's near impossible even if I was at full strength. Shooting straight up when I'm this exhausted, Charming, I don't know if I can..."

"I'll be right there with you," Charming promises. "Holding you, helping you with the bow. I'll be your spotter. All you'll have to do is shoot."

"Will the arrow go through our lovely bubble here?" Hook asks.

"No," Regina shakes her head. "It's solid, though it doesn't look it. The arrow would only hit it, then bounce right back towards us."

"Can you make an opening in the dome small enough for Snow to shoot through?"

Trembling already with the effort involved in keeping the dome in place above their heads, Regina shoots Charming a glare. "No," she says, "I can't. I'm not that good. This isn't as easy as it looks as is."

"I can do it," Emma murmurs, staring up at her own magic. The magic feels like part of her, an extension of her body, and manipulating it to her own will seems an easy thing. She can picture it, she thinks, the way she would just slightly open the bubble up, letting her mother shoot through. "I can."

They all turn to stare at Regina, questioning.

Regina shrugs. "It's possible," she agrees. "Emma's magic is natural in a way that mine just isn't. It's a part of her, she was born with it. She likely has more control over it than I do as a result."

"We would only have a few seconds," Hook warns. "As soon as we let down any of the protection at all, giving Pan an opening, he's going to be aiming for it. We have to take advantage before he does."

Snow and Charming look over at Emma.

"It's our only shot," Emma says, voice trembling but determined. "It has to be the three of us."

Charming nods, accepting. Snow takes longer, but eventually she nods too.

"Come by me then," Emma instructs. "I have more control of the dome directly above me. Henry," she says, looking down at her son. "Go over to Regina."

"Mom, no!" Henry cries.

She's not looking at him anymore, rather, she glances over at Regina. The other woman nods to her.

For all their rivalry, all their bickering and arguing and cruel attacks thrown, they both know that if this goes badly, Regina will abandon all else to protect Henry. This shared understanding, a promise, passes between them quickly.

It's what they both want. It's what this has all been about.

No matter what, they had to save Henry.

"Now Henry," Emma says, insistent. "Your grandparents and I are going to try something super awesome, and we need to have room to do it. Go over to your mom. I'm not arguing about this."

Henry clutches at her. "I love you, Mom," he says, in the terrified way of a boy trying so hard to be brave.

"Love you too, kid," Emma promises. "Always. Now go."

With a sob, Henry obeys, running over to Regina, hugging her around the waist, turning his face into his mother's body, clutching at her doubly tight, to make up for the fact that Regina simply cannot return the embrace, both arms engaged in trying to keep the magical protection in tact above them.

Snow and Charming have gone to their daughter's side, Snow readying the bow and arrow, aiming straight above, Charming holding her from behind, helping her to keep the bow steady.

"I love you both," Emma says suddenly. "Mom, Dad. I kind of really need you to know that."

"We know," Snow whispers. "We love you too."

"Always," Charming finishes.

"Okay," Emma exhales on an unsteady breath.

"Ready?" Snow asks, voice suddenly steady, hands no longer shaking, one last surge of adrenaline readying her for one last shot.

"On my signal," Charming says.

His wife and daughter both nod.

Together.

"1, 2, 3," he whispers, then yells into the night, to the shadow, at the top of his lungs.

"HEY!"

Attention caught, the shadow turns to stare right at them, and at that exact moment Emma pulls open a gap in the protective magic; in the same second that Snow fires the arrow.

Parents and daughter; husband and wife; their timing is perfect in a way that only a family's can be. Snow's arrow soars upwards through the gap exactly as Emma opens it, and hits the shadow square in one of its haunting red eyes. A tremble, a terrible scream, and the shadow vanishes, along with its magical protection. Thirty feet below where the shadow had floated, a boy appears, human, hateful, and noticed in time.

"Drop it!" Snow demands, just as Charming reaches at his wife's waist for her dagger, and Emma, understanding just enough of her mother's instruction, lets the magic fall completely, just as Charming sends the dagger flying right through the now human, now mortal, Peter Pan.

They watch in silence, together, as the body falls to the sea.

For a very long time, nobody speaks.

As could probably be expected, though, it's Hook who finally breaks the silence.

"I'm going to bloody kill the crocodile, sleeping through all that as if we couldn't use the help."

Collapsing back against her husband, Snow would later be certain that she had never laughed so hard in her entire life.


Hours later, they're still huddled together in a group, having worked together just long enough to get the ship the hell off of Neverland's shores. They're in the middle of the sea somewhere now, uncertain of their exact location, but out of Neverland's influence is good enough for all of them, for now.

They'd all collapsed to the deck, not even bothering to return to actual sleeping quarters. Charming clutches Snow to him, unwilling to let her move an inch from his arms, though she's not one to complain, reclining back against him. Emma and Regina sit side by side, allowing for Henry to stretch across them both, head in Emma's lap, feet in Regina's, the boy they both call son sound asleep, safe and content. Hook clutches at the ship's wheel like a lifeline, not having let it go once in the hours since he'd done heroic work in managing to somehow singlehandedly keep his ship steady while the rest of them fought for their lives.

The pirate hadn't even made a suggestive comment in at least six hours, so Charming was willing to let him live for the moment.

It's quiet, everyone in their little group quite content with staying exactly as they are for a very, very long time.

So, of course, Rumplestilskin finally comes bursting out of his quarters.

"Oh now the crocodile shows up," Hook sighs, "just as everything was perfectly swell without him."

"Bae," Rumplestilskin insists, for once ignoring the pirate. He's clutching the magical globe to his chest, his hand bloodied, and even for the imp, he looks quite crazed.

"Are you alright?" Charming asks, wary.

"Bae," Rumplestilskin repeats. "I think he's alive."

They all freeze, Emma and Hook especially.

"Neal?" Emma asks, shaky. "How...?"

"I don't know," Rumplestilkin replies, gesturing at the globe. "But he has my blood, and my blood says he's still in this world. I was sensing him, getting flashes of him in my dreams. Wherever he is, he's in pain, but he's alive."

"Aww hell," Hook groans, standing on unsteady feet to work his steering wheel once more. "Guess I'm stuck with you all for another rescue mission, aren't I? Oh yeah, by the way grandpa," he says, pointing at Henry, still asleep in his mothers' laps. "We saved the kid. Thanks for all your help."

"Henry?" Rumplestilskin asks, amazed.

"That'd be the one. Gotta tell ya," Hook continues, "I think I'm going to give all of today's available good grandparent points to the wonder couple over there. I'm told they belong in comic books, whatever those happen to be. Do they come with costumes?"

Charming sighs. Snow rolls her eyes. Emma smirks.

All is almost completely as it should be.

"I have to give them credit, Rumple," Regina drawls. "They saved my son. Might as well go and see what they can do about yours."

"You up for the challenge, Charmings?" Rumpestilskin finally asks, taunting in the way he always is, especially when he's trying to protect himself.

"Haven't you heard?" Snow asks, eyebrow raised. "We're awesome."


Author's Note: Before anyone asks, I'm back hard at work on the next chapter of Freedom Love. This was just... a thing I dreamt up accidentally that needed to be written before it drove me insane.

I can be found on both twitter and tumblr, icingsfanfic for both. My lovely followers find out all sorts of my little secrets before anyone else does, so I like to think it's worth the follow if you happen to enjoy my writing (and if you do, can I just tell you that I love you?)

Reviews would be greatly appreciated, and by that of course, I mean I shall squeal over them like a little girl.

I hope you enjoyed.

Thanks, as always, for reading.