I've become completely obsessed with OUAT recently. So entertaining. So, yeah, here's my story! It will be multi-chapter with guest appearances from Princess and the Frog and Hercules (though, not necessarily Hercules himself!). Thanks for reading, enjoy! :)
Also, I'm a huge Kurt Vonnegut fan. Wampeter is from bokonoism, which is a fictitious religion created in the novel Cat's Cradle. Prepare for a lot of references.
Wampeter (noun); an object around which the lives of a group of cosmically linked persons may revolve.
Emma Swan had never been one for fairytales. She knew the basics, sure, but when it came to the nitty gritty details of the thing, it all turned to guesses and vague recognition. There was always a Prince, a damsel in distress and a monster; if you were talking Disney, the good guys won and all was well, and if you were more inclined to the Grimm version of things, the good guys got gutted but everyone learned a valuable lesson. Reality, however, rarely lived up to expectation. And so, when Emma Swan set foot upon Neverland, the famed home of Peter Pan and his Lost Boys, she was wholly unprepared for what rose up to greet her.
Hook had warned them the land was cursed, full of misery and despair, but Emma was not expecting just how utterly correct he had been. Black, twisting vines replaced the vast green forests of her imagination; instead of white sandy shores, she was met by a forty yards wide line of inky shards of fine glass, biting into the soles of her shoes with every step; even the very air they breathed seemed to be conspiring against them, every inhale turning to frost in her lungs. She shuddered against the cold seeping through her clothing, soaking into her bones.
Next to her, Mary Margaret - Snow White my mother, she thought - gasped.
"What happened here?" she asked Hook, who stepped out onto the beach last, the very picture of reluctance. He met her eyes for only a second.
"Every land has its demons. The Enchanted Forest has the Dark One. Wonderland has the Jabberwocky. Neverland has Pan." The previously still air swirled at his words, and Emma was sure the night sky clouding over just as fiercely had nothing to do with an overactive imagination. For the first time in a very long time, Emma felt true, deep fear stab her as if she had been run through with a shard of ice.
"Let's just find Henry," Regina said, her voice unsure and quiet. Hook shook his head.
"Not a good idea, love. I suggest we all get our pretty hides back aboard the Rodger, sail her out a-ways and wait until morning."
Gold almost snorted. "What's the matter, Hook? Scared?"
"To my wits end," the pirate answered simply. It was enough for Emma to reconsider traipsing around in the dark on an island giving off harsher vibes than an overweight, moustached prison guard.
She took a moment to stare into the black canopy ahead, almost expecting Henry to coming bounding through the trees and barrelling into her legs, but eventually sighed and said, "Hook's right. Getting ourselves killed this early on isn't going to help Henry." David - she remembered calling him Dad, but it sounded funny now, even in her own head - nodded at her, turning towards her in what oddly looked like deference. Mary Margaret did the same, as did Gold and even Regina after a pained glance at her shoes. Hook still stood off to one side, not looking at any of them.
"So, what's the plan?" Regina asked. Emma took a deep breath. In an unspoken, impromptu election, it seemed they were going to follow her lead on this. A tiny part of her, the part which remembered the kings of the fairytales, wondered if this was what it felt like to command an army, or even an entire kingdom. The absolute responsibility and power that came with being the big cheese; it felt demanding and heady and bizarre, not to mention entirely unwelcome. But she met her father's steady gaze and whatever niggling doubts she had rattling around her brain disappeared, leaving only a resonating - and entirely unfounded - strength.
She made a decision. "We'll wait out the night on the ship and after that, I think we should split up. Gold, Mary Margaret and David will go east; myself, Regina and Hook will head west. In twenty-four hours, we'll meet back here at the Rodger. If neither of us have found anything useful by then, we can start using more colourful means of finding Henry." She shared a meaningful glance with Gold, who nodded slightly.
Satisfied with the plan, the group turned back to the ship, David lagging behind slightly so as to walk side-by-side with his daughter. "I'm impressed," he said.
Emma smiled. "With?"
"You. I'd never have been so diplomatic."
"You're talking about the groups?"
"Yeah. Magical being on either side paired with minimal tension. Hook and Regina are on good terms and they don't seem to have a problem with you, at least not anymore. Your mother and I have no quarrel with Gold. It's clever." He stopped, looking down at his boots, suddenly shy. "I just want you to know, no matter what, we are so proud of you."
Emma stared for a moment. She honestly didn't know what to say. What does one say after twenty-eight years of harbouring very little more than unbridled animosity towards their own parents, only to find out they are the most selfless people she had ever met? Most kids she had met in the system talked about their parents hating them, mistreating them, but Emma had always thought on some level her parents were worse: they didn't hate her, they just couldn't muster enough feeling to even keep her. Wasn't some emotion, even anger, better than none at all?
Now she knew the truth, things were obviously different, however the abandoned little girl in the back of her head couldn't help but wonder if they were satisfied. They had put a baby in a wardrobe and twenty-eight years later, a barely-functioning, emotional cripple was spat back out. How could anyone be happy with that compromise?
As if sensing her momentary crisis, he silently leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, Emma freezing on the spot but not flinching away. It was easy to imagine him doing this after scraped knees and pulled pigtails, perhaps even after a nightmare or two, and when he pulled back with a half-smile, carrying on towards the ship once more, Emma let out a long breath. Okay. So maybe Dad didn't sound quite as foreign in her head anymore.
With the exception of a few grunts and whispered conversations, the next morning was silent. Hook's entire demeanour had flipped inwards, no longer the rakish rogue, and instead played the role of brooding quartermaster, pouring over all the maps and compasses he could get his hands on. Emma couldn't say she missed the pirate leering at her, but his sullen silence worried her more than she expected it would. Neverland seemed to have sucked the life right out of his jaunty step and that could not bode well for any of them.
In the warmer light of the morning, the beach had softened somewhat. The tree line no longer seemed an impenetrable wall, more inviting and playful, and the glass 'sand' that had seemed so terrifying last night reflected back the sunshine, twinkling in the daylight. She supposed it must act like a mirror and decided she most definitely preferred Neverland during the brighter hours.
"Ready?" Hook asked as he stepped off the ship behind her. She nodded, looking to her parents who were eyeing Regina warily. They must be worried she'll try and rip my heart out the second they're out of view.
"So, we all remember the plan?" she said. Gold, who had exchanged the suit and tie for something akin to Hook's garb, turned to her.
"East, you said?" He gestured, not looking, at one end of the island.
"Yeah. If you find something along the shore, shoot up green sparks. If you guys run into trouble, send up red ones. We'll do the same," she said. It was strange how confident her instructions came out, and she was suddenly glad of her short tenure as Sheriff, without which she doubted she would possess any kind of authority they could have faith in. Regina, who had similarly switched clothing, took a measured look at Mary Margaret and Emma couldn't help but tense, waiting for some kind of scathing remark or another.
Instead, Regina just sighed and said, "See you in twenty-four hours." Mary Margaret accepted the comment without question, moving to wrap her arms around her daughter.
"Be safe, Emma. And for the love of Mother Superior, don't go letting them cut down a beanstalk with you still at the top," she mumbled into blonde curls. Emma nodded. It was not hard to detect the concern and stern warning underneath the humour in her mother's voice.
"Good luck." And both sides turned, trudging off in their specified directions. Emma cast a final glance over her shoulder at her mother and father, wondering if they felt the same gnawing feeling of doubt, worry and anger she felt over missing Henry. Judging by her mother's slumped shoulders and her father's soothing hand at her back, Emma assumed so.