Second chapter. Yay! :D

I'm glad you guys like it so far, though this chapter seems to move rather quickly. So...um, I don't have anything else to add, actually. Just the next chapter, and me claiming that I don't own the Sisters Grimm.

Oh, look at that.


Five years earlier

The night was impossibly cold. To top it all off, it was raining.

Grinding his teeth together, he blew on his hands in attempt to warm them up. He needed to find shelter, but amongst all the rubble, he doubted that there was an actual standing building around.

His eyes squinted through the heavy rain, trying to see. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a flute and played a quick tune. He waited a few moments, before dozens of buzzing lights flew over to him, chattering excitedly.

"Did you find anything?" he asked. One of them started to chatter incoherently, speaking so fast that no one would be able to understand it.

Instead of looking confused, the boy nodded eagerly. "Good job!" he said. "Now show me."

They zipped ahead, and he followed them, running as fast as he could. Hopefully, he wouldn't get a cold. That would really suck, and he couldn't afford to be lying around with a cold while they were still on the hunt. That would be bad.

Not too far away, the lights stopped, ducking under some splintered wood. Blinking in surprise, he stared at the building. The roof was still intact, and so was the door, even though the walls had a few large holes here and there. How it managed to stand was a mystery to him, but it was a miracle. It would provide the perfect shelter.

He ran towards it, ducking through one of the holes in order to enter. His fancy shoes squished against the floorboards, which creaked under his weight. He glanced down at it, not feeling all that concerned. Even if it collapsed, he would be perfectly fine.

"Thank you, minions," he said haughtily to the golden lights. They chattered in response, before zipping off. He let out a sigh and sat on the ground, stretching out. He was soaked to the bone, and he needed another pair of clothes.

He hadn't thought to bring any. Mainly because his choice was so sudden, and he wouldn't have had a chance if he had waited.

Maybe he would be able to find some spare clothes here...

Forcing himself to get up again, he looked around the room; there were holes in the ground, leading into what might probably be a basement, and overturned tables and drawers that were splintered. He walked into another room, somehow finding it intact, if you could call a bed torn to shreds intact. But there was a drawer, and when he opened it, there were clothes in there. He rifled through them, pulling out several items. Finally, he tore off his wet clothes and switched into the new ones, an oversized dark green sweater, jeans, and a new pair of socks. When looking through a closet, he found a pair of sneakers that were a little large, but they would have to do.

Letting out a sigh, he grabbed a white shirt from the drawer and attempted to scrub his face dry. He should probably be more cautious, a house with some things still intact and not completely ruined, but he was tired, and he wanted some sleep. And though he longed to be outside, they would find him if he remained there, and he wouldn't risk that. He would never go back there, not for anything in the world.

"Minions!" he called, still suspecting they were in the house. He was ready to sleep, but not without ordering his minions to keep a close eye out for anyone who would come near this place.

There was no reply, or any glittering lights zipping towards him. Annoyance shot through the boy, and he scowled. "Minions!" he called again, louder.

"Stupid minions," he mumbled under his breath after a few minutes of waiting. "I can't believe—"

Something inturrupted him, smashing against his head and sending him collapsing to the ground, unconsious.


When he woke up, his muscles were sore. It was still raining, but the day seemed lighter. He must have fallen asleep. But then why did his arms and legs hurt so much?

He tried to get up, but found that he couldn't. Blinking in surprise, he realized that his hands were tied together, and so were his feet. He was lying on his side, facing a part of a wall that wasn't completely holey. He could hear footsteps behind him, and he stilled, trying to think.

"I know you're awake," a voice said. "You've got a lot of nerve, coming in here with only those annoying little lights, biting us and all. Finally trapped them, though. Who sent you, and how did you find us?"

He licked his lips, which were dry. His voice came out irritated. "Let me go."

"No," the voice responded. It was a girl's voice, he noted, irritation growing inside of him. Was she the one who tied him up like this? No, it couldn't be. Maybe a guy was with her. He found the thought weird.

"Do you even know who you're dealing with?" he asked, his voice arrogant.

"Some pig-headed idiot who had the gall to come after me and my sister?"

"I don't even know who you are!"

The girl snorted, a very un-ladylike thing to do. "Your little things attacked us! What do you expect, for us to welcome you with open arms?"

"You mean my minions? I thought they were only checking for intruders."

"You're the intruder here!"

He had to time it carefully. "Look, I don't know who you are, but I was just trying to escape the rain. I don't really feel like getting a cold." As if on cue, he let out a sneeze.

The girl snorted again. "Too late for that."

He shifted his weight, managing to move in order to face the owner of the voice. He was surprised at who it was.

It was a girl, alright, but she was younger than he expected, probably his age. Her hair was a dirty blonde, which was wet from the rain. She wore a large T-shirt, shredded jeans, and grungy sneakers. Her face wet, probably from the rain, with streaks of mud on it. Her face had probably been diritier before the water washed some of it away. Her arms were crossed, glowering down at him.

"Let me go, or I promise you, you'll regret it," he ground out. He figured she was one of those peasants who were in some kind of gang of children.

The blonde girl laughed. "Don't joke. You're the one tied up here, remember?"

"Then why am I talking to you?" he sniffed. "I want to talk to the leader of your kid gang. I don't want to deal with a stupid cootie-girl."

The girl's mouth quirked, as though amused. "Cooties? Really? What are you, five? And a gang?" She snickered, bending over him. "Even if I were in some kind of gang, I am the leader."

There was a shuffling noise. "Is he awake?" another voice asked, this one much younger.

The girl turned around, but he managed to catch her face softening. "Go back to sleep, Daph," she said quietly. "I'll deal with him, okay? He won't hurt us, I promise."

"Those things are still trying to escape," the young voice mumbled. "I'm still bleeding from the bites they gave me."

"Whoa, wait. You trapped my minions?" he asked, somewhat surprised.

"You mean those lights? Yeah. Tricked them into a room and trapped them inside. Sealed the door, too. No windows, and the wood is still pretty sturdy despite the condition. Nice try, but this was probably the most pathetic attempt to get us."

"They won't get us, right?" the voice asked.

"No, they won't. I won't let them."

The girl's back was turned. No was his chance. Concentrating, he focused on the smallest thing he could think of. His energy was kind of lacking, but he had enough to think and do.

A fly. That would work. He focused on the thought of a small, annoying gnat, the kind that would always fly around his head when he managed to avoid taking a bath. Good times, good times.

The ropes fell away, and his body was smaller, lighter. Almost at once, his form shifted, until he was finally a boy again.

"Told you you'd regret it," he bragged.

The blonde girl's jaw was set, and her glare was deadly. "I was right. You are one of them."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Who?"

The girl clenched her fists. "Get back, Daphne," she ordered. Puck looked behind her. A little girl, no older than seven, stood back, looking at him with suspiciousness. "You can tell your leader that they won't catch us!" she declared.

"Leader? Leader?!" he cried. "The great and powerful Puck doesn't take any orders from anyone! If anything, they bow down to me!"

"Puck?"

He smirked. "So you've heard of me."

"Nope. But that's the most ridiculous name I've ever heard."

He bristled, glaring at the girl. "You've got some nerve, addressing I, Puck, the Trickster King, that way. Bow before me, peasant."

The little girl giggled. "Maybe he's a good guy?"

"Good guy? Good guy?! I'm a villian of the worst kind!" he snapped indignantly.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "Right. You aren't even older than me!"

Looking back on it, he wasn't sure why he stuck around. He could've turned into a bird or something and left. Fighting girls, verbally or physically, was beneath him. Somehow, he forgot about transforming as he glared at the girl. Whatever happened, it escalated into a yelling-match, until the little girl ended it by offering him food. They sat down and ate, the girl giving him an icy stare, which he returned. The girl, Daphne, was the only one who tried to make conversation, convinced that he wasn't with whatever was after them. He didn't really ask. He already decided that he couldn't afford to stick around; not with them.

Still, having a few allies would be helpful, even if they were...girls.

"So, ugly, where are my minions?" he asked through a mouthful of food.

The girl's eyes flashed at the new unwanted nickname, but she said nothing. "Basement," she replied. "Had to seal the door with a bunch of towels at the bottom. Windowless, sturdy doors...perfect for trapping someone."

"There's no way that would've held them," he mumbled.

"Well, it did, Puck." He didn't like the way she spat out his name.

"Oh yeah?" He reached into his pocket for the flute, but realized it wasn't there. It was probably with his wet clothes. "What'd you do with my clothes?"

Daphne bit into her canned food before answering. "Out drying," she said, voice muffled. "Looked pretty fancy."

He grimaced. "Hate those things. Go ahead and burn them for your meals or something."

She blinked in surprise. "Um, okay." She bit into the food again.

The blonde's eyes narrowed. She was still suspicious, he figured. Well, let her think whatever she wants. He didn't care. He was off into the world, ready to explore. He was his own person now. No one to tell him what to do, no one to tell him how to live his life.

"So, who're you?" Puck asked.

"Why should we tell you?" the blonde asked rudely while the little girl chirped, "Daphne!"

"Well, you already know me, your new master. I have to know my new minions, right?" he asked casually.

The girl stood up, glaring down at him. If looks could kill, he would've been dead. "You are not the leader of anything," she seethed. "I'm in charge here."

"Says who, ugly?" he challenged.

"Says me, freak baby!" she shot back.

How dare she talk to him that way! He opened his mouth, to tell her that she shouldn't treat a king this way, but she inturrupted him, setting her jaw and crossing her arms. "Alright, Everafter, you've had your fun. Now get out!"

"You don't tell me what to do," he sneered. "And my name is Puck. Remember the name of your king!"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, you can't really believe that I'd listen to someone like you? I barely know you! Not to mention don't trust you!" She raised her fist, as though to punch him. But she wouldn't dare punch the Trickster King...

Daphne tugged on the blonde's sleeve. "Come on," she pleaded, "if he were with them, wouldn't they be swarming the place by now?"

She lowered her fist, gaze spitting acid in his direction. She crossed her arms, looking at Daphne. "Whatever.

All I want is for him to get out of here."

"Hey, we're all friends here, right?" he asked casually.

Her eyes practically spewed fire.
"Okay, maybe not. But come on, all I want is a place to stay. No harm done, right? And I'd also like my minions back." He noted with satisfaction that the blonde brought a hand to her neck, where he spotted a bite mark.

"Come on," Daphne urged the older girl. "It's been forever since we've talked to someone else. At least let him stay for a few days."

He grinned. The girl knew how to respect her king.

The girl curled her lip, crossing her arms. "Whatever. Freak baby can stay."

"Smart choice, ugly."

The girl turned on her heel, sending a glare over her shoulder. "The name's Sabrina, freak baby. Remember it."

Sabrina and Daphne…at the time, the names hadn't rung any bells. It wouldn't be until later he realized that they were the most wanted people in the world. Why?

Because of them, the Scarlett Hand.


…I'm sorry if it's bad…