How did Will end up back in Storybrooke, when we all know he'd rather be in Wonderland with his true love?
(I do not own any of these characters or the stories they come from.)
The beginning
It had happened with lightning speed. One moment he was standing in the Enchanted Forest at her old house. The next, he was gone.
It was the day before their wedding. Ana had talked wistfully about how she wished her mother would come to their ceremony, or at least give them her blessing. She so wanted her mother to know that her daughter and future son-in-law had carved out a kingdom for themselves in Wonderland. So Will decided he would make that happen, somehow.
He didn't even tell the rabbit about his plan; that old furball would have disapproved, or worse, spilled the beans to Ana. Instead, Will made the long hike to the little clearing where their old caravan wagon sat. He would use the long-hidden magic mirror to return to the Enchanted Forest, zip back to her mother's house, persuade the old biddy to return with him, one way or another—even toss her over his shoulder if he had to, and leap back into the portal with her for Wonderland.
It took him a little longer than he expected to get to his target; so much had happened since they'd journeyed through Wonderland, freed Cyrus, gotten rid of Jafar, and witnessed Alice's wedding, that he kept getting turned around. But after a few wrong turns, he saw the roof of the caravan, barely visible among the overgrowth of trees and vines. He ran towards it, noticing that it looked like no one had been there for years. He gingerly pulled open the door, and hoisted himself up over the rotted out steps.
Inside, everything was as it had been, only musty and faded. Ana's pink dress was plain and drab compared to the clothes she wore now, he mused. Her ribbons, the ones he'd bought, bartered, and stolen for her, still hung on a hook by the cupboard. And there was the bed where he and Ana spent so many happy hours. He stepped over to it, and reached down underneath, hoping no varmints had crawled in for shelter. Grasping around, he finally felt the end of the magic mirror frame, and slowly pulled it out. It was dusty, and he wiped it off carefully. 'The things he would do for that woman,' he smiled as he carefully made his way out of the wagon.
He stood in the clearing for a moment, looking all around at the place he and Ana had called home such a long time ago. The two of them had come a long ways from their lives here, and sometimes he missed it, poverty and all. It had been just the two of them then, no one to worry about but each other. Now they had a whole bloody kingdom to take care of, and while she loved being the white Queen, the title of King of Wonderland was just not the first thing Will would have ever chosen to make himself happy.
But there was no time to think about the past, he had a mission. He tossed the mirror on the ground and it began immediately to swirl in pink and purple circles. "To the Enchanted Forest!" he intoned, and leaped into the portal.
When he got his bearings, he realized he had come out not too far from Lady Tremaine's cottage, and he began jogging down the path. The magic mirror was safely tucked in his traveling bag, and as he wound his way through the forest, he imagined how Ana would look when he showed up tonight with her mother in tow. He laughed out loud when he thought of Tremaine's reaction; her overlooked and unloved daughter, now a Queen.
It took him a while to realize that the sky was growing darker, and he wrote it off to the evening coming on. But then he glanced up and saw the billowing cloud, roiling through the sky. He stopped, stunned, remembering the last time he had seen such a cloud. "No!" he shouted, though no one could hear him. Only the birds in the trees scattered at the sound of his voice, then the cloud absorbed him, and he was gone.
The cloud slowly started to fade, turning to mist, then melting away all together. Will looked around him. He'd landed on his hands and knees in a grove—maybe he was still in the Enchanted Forest? He stood up, pulled his traveling bag open and jerked out the magic mirror. He was taking no chances. Tossing it on the ground, he waited for the swirling to begin again. He was going back to Wonderland with no delay; mother-in-law or no, he would not miss his own wedding.
But the mirror didn't swirl. It didn't change colors. It didn't do anything but stay on the ground, reflecting his worried face. He nudged it with his boot, but nothing changed. "Bollocks!" he shouted, and nudged it again, harder. Still no reaction. He stopped himself from kicking it even harder; he didn't want to break it. He fell to his knees, staring at the mirror, hoping it would change its mind and let him get back to his true love. But it was just a mirror, nothing magic.
This couldn't be happening to him, he thought as he raged at the round glass in front of him. He had to get back to Ana! He had wanted everything to be perfect for her for their wedding day, and now he was stuck, and she would think—
What would she think? Will rocked back on his heels and sat down heavily. She would think he deserted her. She would think he didn't want her, didn't want to be her King, didn't want her as his Queen. It would break her heart, he knew, and his too. He could not do this to her. He had to find a way back. He snatched up the mirror and shoved it back into his bag. It was worthless to him right now, but it was his only way back home, unless he could find another way. And that meant he had to find out where he was, and hopefully locate someone who could help him.
As he approached the town, it seemed to look more and more familiar. "Double bollocks," he muttered to himself as he caught a glimpse of the harbor, "I'm back in bloody Storybrooke." He wondered if his old place was still the way he'd left it.
Will managed to slip into town unnoticed, and soon found his way to his old apartment building, which was all but abandoned. He picked the lock and stepped through the door. Yep, just like he'd left it. He went quickly to the kitchen, and rummaged around in one of the cabinets, until he pulled out a half-empty whiskey bottle. Yep, just like he'd left that too. He wandered into the living room, if you could call it that, and looked at the hole in the wall where he'd once hidden his heart. Not the best hiding place for it, since Alice and Cyrus had found it so quickly. He took a long pull on the bottle and fell into the only chair in the place. What now?
Hiding place! He had to hide the bleedin' magic mirror! He couldn't just stroll around town with it tossed over his shoulder, he needed to hide it somewhere, a safe place. He downed another shot of the whiskey, ignoring the burn he felt as it slid to the bottom of his empty stomach. He glanced wildly around the room, but knew this was not the safest place for it.
It was dark when he hit the streets again, and he'd probably downed a touch more whiskey than he should have. But he had to find a place to tuck away the mirror. He ended up at the beach, past the harbor and near the hiking trails. He stumbled in the sand, and pitched forward on his face. 'Maybe too much more than just a touch more,' he mused. Checking to make sure he wasn't being watched, he started to dig, and managed a good-sized hole, nice and deep. He dropped his traveling bag into the hole, then immediately fished it back out. 'Can't just bury it here without a map to find it later,' he thought, and he pulled out some parchment, and the nub of a pencil that was in a side flap of the bag. Peering around at the surrounding area for landmarks, and almost losing his balance, he drew a rudimentary map that would easily lead him to the spot again. 'Gotta keep the map safe,' he reminded himself, trying to concentrate through the glowing fog of alcohol in his brain. 'Safest place would be…..the bag!' He dropped the paper and pencil into it, then put it down in the hole, congratulating himself on his cleverness as he pushed sand back into the hole.
As he stood up and brushed the sand off his hands, he almost fell back down. That bottle had held a fat lot of whiskey in it for looking so empty, he realized, as he staggered back to the path. At least the mirror was safe, although his head was starting to spin. He needed to stretch out for a while, and although the bed in his apartment was nowhere near as comfortable as his bed in the palace, he headed there straightaway. He'd take just a little nap, then figure out how he could get back home.
The next morning, he awoke to a throbbing headache and a buzzing in his ears. He hadn't suffered a hangover in ages, but he remembered the pain all the same. The hair of the dog would have been best, but his bottle was totally empty now. 'At least the mirror is safe,' he told himself, 'and when I need it, I just follow the map I made so nicely, and…..' He sat up suddenly, and cursed as the pain made his eyeballs throb. He needed to make sure the map was safe, but where the bloody hell did he put it? "I put it somewhere safe," he said out loud. "The safest place would have been…my bag…..my bag that I….." with a monumental groan, he collapsed back on the bed.