She is dizzy as hell and nothing that is happening makes sense—she's just gone from standing in a sheriff's office to being dumped face first into the dirt floor of a goddamn forest—but she has hardly even landed before she is scampering to her knees, disoriented, scanning the area for Lincoln. Last she had seen him, he'd been cuffed to a chair behind the woman formerly front of her and now…
"Lincoln!"
She coughs his name out, surprising herself when the air in her chest isn't enough to support the force of her yell. She had tumbled down harder than she thought.
But how?
There is a crack from beside her and she whips her head around, starting when the source of the noise is connected to the man who had cornered her earlier. He reaches a hand towards her and she moves frantically back, heart pounding as her ass runs into something solid—hand quickly following, palm scraping against hard bark and confirming it to be a tree.
One of the man's eyebrows shoots up quizzically.
"Don't touch me," she snaps, and this time her words come out with far more force as she glowers at his still outstretched hand. She feels violated, scared—unsure of whether they've drugged her, or used some sort of powers on her—but she is certain that letting her guard down is the last thing that she should do.
The odd, off feeling she had observed earlier has somehow intensified into a constant, nervous tingling. There is something about the way the light falls through the leaves of these trees, something about the smell of the air and the feel of the bark beneath her fingers that feels—not right.
The man drops his hand slowly, still watching her quietly—sharp eyes reading her expression.
"I don't mean you harm, lass," he says in a voice that is gentler than she expects, moving a step back as if to demonstrate—giving her space. "I don't, however, intend to abandon you in the Enchanted Forest either."
She watches his movements with a trained eye, before scanning the area around them again, slower. Neither Lincoln nor the sheriff seem to be nearby, not judging by the noise they are making—they are alone, and the last time she found herself alone with this man it had been because he was taunting her, informing her Lincoln was being held captive by his other half. She doesn't exactly have the warm-and-fuzzies for the man—however, judging by his knowing tone, he has intel. He knows where they are.
She can practically hear May's training echoing in her ear: use your resources. Use him.
She feels her gun strapped safely to her hip beneath the leather of her jacket, where she'd latched it as an afterthought that morning. The metal is a comfort and she takes a slow, grounding breath.
He watches her as if he can see the wheels in her mind spinning.
She slowly peels herself off of the ground without his help, keeping her eyes glued on him—trying not to allow them to falter to his shining hook.
"The Enchanted Forest?"
The man's mask of calm flickers, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly.
She is trained to notice.
"Hm?"
"The Enchanted forest," she repeats, unfaltering. "It's where you just said you don't intend to leave me," she mocks his accent, badly, "so I think it's fair to assume that's where we are?"
A faint smile plays at his lips.
"Sharp as a whip, you are."
She shrugs, unwilling yet to let onto just how capable she is.
"Why did you bring me here?"
Another irritating raise of a heavy brow.
"Actually, love—I'm rather convinced you did this."
xxx
Emma thinks she has landed apart from everyone. She has been wandering for a solid minute, opting not to call out for fear of attracting the attention of something other than the pirate. He can't be far—there's no way, they were close enough when the portal had somehow been activated—but still, she is coming up empty.
She is growing frustrated to the point to considering calling out—she has never been alone in the Enchanted Forest—always has had him at her side with all his biting knowledge, for better or for worse. She isn't sure she knows where to begin to get herself back—not without everything he knows, all of his experience.
She trudges a little further, stomping louder—in theory, for him to hear—in actuality, making her feel like a petulant, angry toddler.
She isn't sure she is not.
"Dammit."
She catches her balance over the protruding tree root—but before she can even steady herself there is a bright flash—and something blue and crackling circles her.
She immediately raises her hands in retaliation, swirling to find the threat as she still struggles to find her center of balance.
"Don't try it."
The blue tendrils around her tighten threateningly, and the hairs on her arms stand on end.
The source of the power is the man, Thomas—who she caught trailing her earlier.
"I'm starting to think you're stalking me," she muses, hoping it is evident in her tone just how unhappy she is to see him.
He is far beyond pissing her off. But the electricity pulses dangerously near her skin and she holds still, glowering back at him, hard.
"I don't want to hurt you, but I will," he tells her, ignoring her comment. His blue gaze is hard and unfaltering. "What did you do with her?"
Jesus Christ.
"You have got to be shitting me."
The sharp increase in the buzz around her tells her in no uncertain terms that he is not.
"Kid, look, I don't know. Portal jumping is unpredictable. I don't know where we are. I don't know what caused it. What I do know is that however unfortunate it is, we're stuck together until we figure it out and threatening me is not helping your chances."
His eyes narrow.
"Portal?"
"Does it look like we're still in Storybrooke to you?"
She doesn't actually expect it to work, so when his powers falter and then disappear into the air around her—she thinks her shock might be visible.
"I'm sorry. God, shit—I'm really sorry."
He looks fully genuine and contrite, and it is her turn to narrow her eyes, confused.
"Not that you don't owe it to me for almost turning me into a French fry, but, um—you can give it a rest. It's okay, you were scared, I'm still… relatively rare—I'll get over it."
She blinks when he continues to shake his head regretfully, running a hand through his hair anxiously before peering back at her.
"Could it happen again? Are portals… relatively common around here?"
She can see him piecing things together slowly, puzzling through a picture she is certain she has absolutely none of the pieces to.
She hates being lost.
"Maybe—does that matter?"
He doesn't answer, and she thinks he could use a good jolt of his own powers. She holds her hands firmly at her sides, anyway. She isn't particularly craving a face full of static.
"We… need to find my partner. Now."
She'd like to find her boyfriend but again the uneasiness in the younger man's expression makes her bite her tongue. He is glancing around them, clearly still uncomfortable about their surroundings. Lost.
Emma wishes she could turn around, walk away and just leave him and his goddamn electricity to his own devices but something nags at her heartstrings and she nearly groans out loud.
"Look, they can't be far—either of them. Let's just… start circling. Just no more lightshows, alright Sparkles?"
He lets out an audible breath of relief, nodding once.
"Deal."