I had wrote this request ages ago, but it's stuck with me sense. So...new story? I miss this fandom. Anyways about the au.

The portal failed. That plan crumpled. So treat any episodes featuing Ford as non-existent. Everything else is gold. Also Pacifica wasn't there. As seen below she was 'vacationing'. Also it's more in tune with supernatural and all that jazz. Roll with it.

Get ready for fun with a bbarely-fuctioning afult and her adopted knife kid.

The metal had been so very cold against her neck and Mabel had to force herself to keep driving in a straight line. Somehow she managed to not ditch the car, but her lips stayed locked together instead of answering the question. Even when the blade pressed harder into the flesh she stayed mute and very still.

"You're not", the stranger whispered and the hot breath against Mabel's ear sent trills of fear down her spine. The knife slid against her neck and-nothing happened. It had been the dull end pressing against the skin and it didn't even leave behind a stinging reminder of what could have been. Mabel heard the stranger pull back further into the seats away from the front and for a moment Mabel wasn't sure if she hadn't of imagined it. A little bit of paranoia seeping into her brain from chasing ghost stories and losing sleep.

The road was empty, yet she still turned on the hazard lights and coasted until a wide grassy shoulder came into view and she pulled over. Foot firm on brake and seatbelt undone just in case. Fingers brushing against then gripping the tire iron tucked between the door and her seat. Just in case. Waiting for the stranger to take the chance to run into the woods and when they didn't Mabel swung into position to clock them against the head like Stan had taught her.

Just in case.

The stranger was too short and the iron swung over their head and shattered the plastic moulding around the door. There was a shrill scream and the stranger fell forward and tried to push themselves into the floor boards away from Mabel. Not expecting it, but honestly she was thankful, Mabel took it as a sign of submission and was already starting to prepare for a verbal lashing when she actually noticed something.

She has just tried to brain a kid.

Almost killed an actual child who was now just wailing and frantically waving around a tiny little kitchen knife for protection. The fear Mabel had felt turned to shame instantly and she realized that the blade had felt so much larger against her neck. Tossing the iron away into the passenger seat she frantically tried to calm the kid down from a screaming wreck to try and figure out what exactly was going on. Did they sneak on when she was at the filling station? Must have since Mabel had taken a nap in the back seat at the stop before that.

Shit. Did she just accidentally kidnap someone? Could she get arrested for that? Dang it, she needed to find a pay phone and call up her uncle to check on that legal issue. Suddenly all the more stressed, she gave up consoling and flopped back into the front seat wondering how exactly these things kept happening to her. Maybe it was a bad star she was born under?

It didn't matter right now, but thinking of it helped her calm down and regulate her breathing.

Time passed and the frantic kid behind her seat started to quiet down into sniffles and ragged breathing. Catching movement in the corner of her eye, Mabel glanced over and saw a shaking hand clutching a wad of bills reaching towards her.

"Take me to the city," said the kid and she honestly sounded bratty about it, "there's enough there for gas and everything."

Mabel accepted the money and counted it. Almost a thousand dollars in sweaty bills given to her by a hitchhiker kid that had tried to slice her neck.

"Look kid," she started out even as she pocketed the cash, "you just tried to knife me-maybe we should take you back home."

The kids face appeared from the dark; puffy and red from crying with a terrible look in her eyes. The same kind Mabel had seen from her uncle when he talked about his brother that first time. Anger, desperation, and something indescribable hardening into stone.

"Then drop me off here."

"We're thirty miles from anything-"

"I am never going back to them," a flash of fear crossed her face and her voice shook, "daddy said I had to stay but I won't."

Sensing another meltdown, Mabel opened her mouth to try and calm her down again before the knife flashed in the hand. Something clicked into place as she stared at the knife and her stomach churned as she started to wonder.

"You don't have too," Mabel whispered and forced a smile, "but that knife isn't iron honey."

The kid looked stricken and Mabel chalked another point towards her instincts being right. Moving slowly, as not to cause panic, she pulled one of her many craved bangles off and handed it over to the girl.

"Here, this is pure iron."

Quick as a snake, the kid snatched it from Mabel and slid it up over her arm until it fit snugly over the bicep. After hesitating for a time, she clambered into the passenger seat and sat there. Though her hands still shook, she tossed back her hair and adopted the look of an heiress waiting for the driver to take off. Which…was probably pretty close to the situation actually.

"Daddy once said that grandmother lived in the city near the town so you're taking me there."

"Oh, do you know her name?"

"I-Ill remember it by the time we get there," the girl replied with only a little doubt, "it's hard to remember some things right now."

"Spending time with the fae does that to people."

A sharp intake of breath was the girl's reaction as she clutched the knife closer. Mabel felt an ounce of guilt for making her react like that, but she really had to make sure. No wonder the kid was so terrified and acting oddly; it made her wonder exactly how long she had been trapped there. The clothes she wore were of no help and she doubted the kid could even remember the year she was taken-no, given over. Ugh, it made Mabel wish she could turn back and hunt down the parents who let this happen. Bash their legs until they splintered and make them beg to the fae for help.

Now she was mad. Still, she needed to focus.

"So, kid, what's do you like to be called?"

"Pacifica," came the soft voice, "my name is worthless now."