Underworld, long, long ago
"You did WHAT?" Hades thundered at his two most incompetent sycophants. "How the hell did you manage to set Cerberus loose off his chain? Haven't you learned anything in the six months you've been here?
"Well…" Pain said, cowering, "it wasn't really our fault. It was the balrog's fault…if he hadn't suddenly come back from Middle Earth and started breathing fire at everyone…."
Hades rubbed at his temples. Why him? What did he ever do to deserve this. "What was the balrog doing there? You know full well he's not allowed back in hell without a full demon squadron guarding him after his last visit threw all of hell into chaos. Charon should know better than to let him past."
"That's the thing…" Panic said, "we might, possibly have accidentally pushed Charon into the pool of Lethe and, you know, wiped his memories."
"WHAT!? I'm down a ferryman now too?"
"Well, there are several demons trying to un-memory charm him as we speak," Pain said. "Should be good as new in, oh a month or so."
"Do you have any idea how many souls will end up on the far shore awaiting transport in that amount of time?" Hades thundered, " The Trojans and the Achaeans are at war again, and my sources say something about a horse that might lead to countless casualties. Do you have any idea how much of a headache it will be to deal with countless bad-tempered dead people who can't even be ferried over to their doom? Do you?"
"We know!" Pan and Panic lamented together, falling on the ground before him. "We failed."
"Damn straight, you failed. I have half a mind to throw you right back in hell where you belong! What were you even doing down there?"
"Well," Pain said, "The cook was talking about how much you like the fire whiskey from the 2nd ring of hell—you know the gluttony level? We thought we'd, you know give you a present for our six month anniversary here in the Underworld. Wanted to do something nice to make you happy."
Hades rolled his eyes. "Yeah, good job with that."
"We are worms!" Panic lamented, "less than worms. We are the dirt that runs through a worm's digestive tract. Don't send us back there! Please!"
Hades sighed loudly. "Just…just go, and next time you want to do something nice for me? Just save me the trouble and torture yourselves instead."
No sooner had the two idiots removed themselves from his presence before the butler was once again tapping on his study door.
"What now?"
The tall, dour man opened the door and stepped inside. "Hermes to see you, sir. It would seem he has a message from your brother."
Really, there were some days it just didn't pay to get out of bed. He could be in his bed dreaming about ultimate victory and Mount Olympus and his brother's head on a spike at the gate and all manner of wonderful things, but no. He had to get up and actually read his daily briefings. Couldn't one day, just one day go by without all the fires of hell erupting around him?
"Here's the thing, I don't want a message from my brother," Hades said with a wave of his hand. "Just go tell Hermes to turn himself and his stupid feathered sandals back around, and he can shove his message up his…"
"Sir," the butler interrupted. "The god is most insistent. He has orders to badger you—and by extension me—until you've actually read the missive and acknowledged its receipt."
Figures. That was the kind of annoying stunt his stupid little brother would pull. Zeus had the Mount Olympus gods wrapped around his little finger too; no way anyone would succeed in talking Hermes out of his mission.
"Fine," Hades said on a defeated sigh, "show him in."
A moment later, the god of commerce himself appeared with his stupid winged hat and winged sandals and staff and everything. "Greetings, Hades. I trust all is well in the Underworld?"
"Yeah, just peachy," Hades drawled. "We're having a hell of a day down here. What've you got for me?"
Hermes pulled a folded and sealed piece of parchment from his belt and extended it before him. Hades broke the seal and perused the missive, temper rising with every passing word.
Hades,
Long time no see, brother! Of course that's kind of what happens when you try to lead an armed rebellion and take over your brother's kingdom. Just wanted to tell you the news. You remember Hera? The most popular goddess in our class at deity school? Yeah, well guess what? She just became Mrs. Zeus! That's right. We got hitched one month ago today. Took a nice long honeymoon to Elysium; stopped by and saw dad while we were there. He's doing well. Says to say hi. He of course finds you and your traitorous ways a major disappointment, but what are you going to do?
Anyway, wish you could have been there for the wedding, but Hera wanted the ceremony to be perfect. You know how brides are! She was afraid you'd decide the wedding was the perfect opportunity to set Operation Take Over Your Brother's Lawfully Obtained Throne 2.0. into motion.
Hope things are nice and hellish where you are!
Your younger brother,
Hades (god of all Mount Olympus and Elysium)
P.S. If you feel like sending a gift, how about a cradle? The missus and I plan to start a family a.s.a.p.
Hades crumpled the parchment in one hand and then threw it into the fire. Zeus got married? Married!? This was a disaster! Looking up, he noticed Hermes still standing there, broad smile on his obnoxious face.
"Wonderful news isn't it?" Hermes said. "It was a match made in heaven. Ha! Get it? A match made in heaven."
Hades raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I caught your pathetic attempt at wit. Seriously, though? Leave the humor to the professionals."
The smile slid from Hermes face. "I thought it was funny."
"Yeah, hilarious."
"At any rate, have you any message for me to return to your brother?"
Hades thought for a moment and then grinned nastily. "Go tell my sainted brother I hope he steps on a whole crate full of push pins."
After sputtering for a moment in indignation, Hermes finally left.
Hades felt his temper rising higher and higher. His hair-flame was so high now it nearly reached the ceiling. His brother was married? Could he possibly have gotten a worse piece of news? He'd finally kind of settled into his afterlife. True, the Underworld and hell were no picnics, but still it could be worse. Maybe he couldn't take Mount Olympus back by force, but there was always the waiting game. If Zeus continued on with no wife and no progeny, it would be a simple thing. Wait until his brother retired and then inherit the whole place for himself.
But now Zeus threw a lightning bolt in all his well-laid plans. With a wife—and even worse plans to start a family right away—Hades' hopes had as much hopes of being realized as did Charon's hopes of topping the afterlife's list of Handsomest Undead Men (and if you ever looked at the guy…yeah, you knew that was a dream that would never be realized).
There really were some days a god wished he could just forget about and do over—and this day topped the list. Hades slumped into his easy chair, sour scowl firmly affixed. He wanted nothing more than to wallow in his newest defeat for the rest of the day, but of course (because what else did he expect), he'd only just begun to get into his sulking groove when there was another knock at the door.
"Pardon, sir," the butler said, stepping in again, "but I thought you should know. The new gardener, Dan? He's scheduled to pass on in about half an hour."
"Dan? But he just got here little more than a month ago!" Hades said, sitting up. "How's that possible?"
"It seems his unfinished business was completed in quite the timely fashion," the butler said. "As you know, he passed rather unexpectedly; was quite concerned for the welfare of his wife and many young children."
"Yeah? And?"
"Well it would seem he and his family were well loved in the community," the butler said. "Many, many many friends and family members have stepped up to ensure the widow and children are well provided for in any way necessary. Just today, the widow gave birth to a healthy baby boy and named him after his deceased father. It would seem a good amount of healing has begun to take place."
"Well good for them," Hades drawled sarcastically. "Meanwhile I lose the best gardener we've had around here for years. Isn't that all just great?"
"Nothing for it, sir. This is, after all a way-station. Souls aren't meant to reside here forever."
"Well maybe that's not enough for me!" Hades thundered. "Turn around around here is ridiculous! Just get a new resident all settled in and contributing to society and poof, it's time for them to move on! You know what? I'm sick of it! I'm a god too, you know. Zeus isn't the only deity around! I shouldn't be bound to my dad's ridiculous rules. I'm going to refashion this place in my image."
Pain and Panic may have caused a world of headaches down in hell today, but their antics actually gave him an idea. A beautiful, devious idea. There was that intriguing new curse Chernabog was guarding. Maybe….maybe if he spiced it up a bit with Lethe water…add a pinch of amnesia…yeah, that would be just about perfect.
At long last this day from hell was finally starting to look up.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Storybrooke, present day
Emma stepped up to the lake surrounded by her family. This was it. They were about to set off on the most dangerous rescue mission of any of their lives. A bright full moon glared off the lake, setting the low-lying fog surrounding them in sharp contrast. It was by far the creepiest, the eeriest scenario Emma had ever envisioned being in. She was about to go to hell (or…the Underworld, whatever the difference was).
She didn't feel a moment of hesitation.
Two years before, she'd found herself in a similar, seemingly hopeless situation. Greg and Tamara had kidnapped Henry and taken him through a portal to who knew where for who knew what terrible purpose. Though all hope looked lost, Emma had been determined. It didn't matter that she didn't even know what realm her son had been taken to. It didn't matter that she had no known way to open a portal.
All that mattered was that her son, her familial true love needed her help and there was nothing, nothing she wouldn't do to get to him. In the end she had. With the help of these people assembled with her now, she had gotten her son back.
Could she do any less for her other true love? Could she do anything less for the man who had proven time and time and time again that there was nothing he wouldn't do for her? That there's nothing he wouldn't give up for her? That he would always find her, always come for her no matter what time, place or realm she found herself in?
Aside from Henry, he was the very best and most important thing in her life, and no matter what she had to do, she would get him back.
Footsteps sounded on the dewy grass behind them, and Emma turned to look at the last, grim member of their rescue party. Gold. The very sight of him disgusted her and made her blood start to boil once more. Never had she been able to identify with Killian more. She could fully and completely understand the man she loved going on a centuries-long quest to get revenge on this…this…she couldn't even come up with a strong enough insult. No curse word in the dictionary (or out of it) was strong enough.
Of course, it wasn't the heroic response, but it was human. Emma felt a renewed surge of pride in Killian that even under the very worst of circumstances he was able to overcome his need for revenge. He was able to let it go once and for all.
Emma took a deep breath, willing the anger to recede. For the time being they needed Gold, as much as the fact may gall her. They needed him to open the portal. After that…well, he could just stay in hell for all she cared.
"Shall we proceed, Miss Swan?" he asked with a sneer.
"Yeah, let's go," she said through gritted teeth.
Rumple dragged his dagger across his palm, and several drops of rich, red blood welled up. Clenching his fist, he let the drops fall to the lake and disappear among the waters.
They waited for a beat of time. Then another. All remained still and quiet, undisturbed.
Just as Emma began to fear they'd failed, a disturbance started up in the very center of the lake. It grew larger and larger, until it formed a mighty whirlpool, which duly disgorged a large, flat barge manned by a figure in a large hood that completely hid his (her? its?) features. A single lantern hung from the bow, its flickering light only heightening the sepulchral feel of the scene.
"Well, looks like this is it," Emma said grimly. "Last chance to turn back."
David stepped up and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. A moment later Mary Margaret threaded her arm through Emma's.
"We're with you to the end, honey," Mary Margaret said in a strong, clear, no-nonsense voice. "Killian was family, and we never give up on our family."
Emma threw her mother a soft smile, too overcome with gratitude to fully speak it. After one last deep breath, she began to walk forward, focusing on the lake water seeping through her boots and plastering her jeans to her legs, rather than the rather terrifying hell-ferryman before them.
She reached up and grabbed onto Killian's ring once more. "Hook, I will find you. I will always find you."
Emma felt her father squeeze her shoulder, obviously affected at hearing what was basically his tagline coming from her lips.
It took several moments—wading through chest-deep cold water near the end of a Maine fall was quite the undertaking—but finally all seven of them were settled in and seated on the ferryman's barge.
The robed figure didn't speak or even acknowledge them but merely seemed to watch them intently, if the motion of his hooded head was any indication. When it was clear that all the passengers had indeed boarded, the figure plunged his staff into the lake, and the vessel shot forward with surprising speed. Emma grabbed Henry with one hand, and the ship with her other, thinking it would be just her luck to fall out of the damn thing before they made it to their destination. She'd probably end up in some weird purgatory for all of eternity.
As it happened, she need not have worried. Apparently once you'd boarded Charon's ferry, there was no getting off until he gave you leave. Rumple tried to dive off at the last moment, but it was as though he reached a solid barrier; he bounced against the open air surrounding them, and then landed back in the ferry with a thud.
Emma closed her eyes and ducked her head as they entered the vortex that would take them to their destination. It was loud and wet, the water whipping around them with a roar. It reminded Emma of nothing so much as the trip to Neverland.
Only that time she'd had Killian by her side.
After what felt like hours, the ferry finally came to a stop, and Emma became aware that they'd made it.
She opened her eyes and gasped. "What the hell?"
She'd prepared herself for all kinds of things—fire, brimstone, red devils with horns and pitchforks, rivers of molten lava, anguished souls screaming in agony.
What she hadn't prepared for was this. This place looked…normal. They'd washed up on a grassy shore, a sweltering summer sun shone down on a well-maintained graveyard on the left and a town on the right.
A town that looked eerily like Storybrooke. What was going on here? Where were they.
Emma clearly wasn't the only one with questions. "Where the hell have you taken us?" Regina demanded, turning toward Gold.
He giggled, the sound reminiscent of the sparkly imp she and Killian had met in their time travel adventure. "Where else, Dearie? The Underworld."
"You're telling me the Underworld looks just like Storybrooke?" David thundered, hands on hips.
"Not 'just like'," Rumple said, fingers making quote marks around the phrase. "There are differences. Look closely."
Indeed, as Emma looked around once more, she realized that they'd landed in Storybrooke…but not Storybrooke—almost like a distorted mirror image of Storybrooke. Everything was just the tiniest bit off. Burnt-out hulls of cars lined the street, the library's tower lay crashed on the street, graffiti littered every building. Even the light from the sun wasn't quite right. It was like…like it was being filtered through a brownish filter or something. The heat it gave off wasn't warm and comforting, but somehow oppressive. The air smelled faintly of sulfur and felt stifling, like one would choke if they breathed in too deeply.
There was not another person to be found…anywhere.
Emma felt a prickle of fear run down her spine. Somehow, this reality that was just slightly wrong felt more frightening than would the fire and brimstone she'd imagine.
Clearly she wasn't the only one feeling it. Henry sidled up to her and clasped her hand. Robin cursed softly under his breath. Snow pulled out her bow and fitted it with an arrow.
"This place is eerie," Regina said through clenched teeth. "Let's find your pirate and get the hell out of here."
Rumple giggled again, and it took all Emma's power not to conjure a fireball and toss it at the son of a bitch's head. "Do you really think it will be that easy? You just waltz in, find your pirate, split the savior's heart and waltz back out?"
David stepped in. "None of this is going to be easy," he said in a grim voice, his body clearly tightly coiled and ready for a fight. "None of us thought any different. You're the only one who's been here before. I think it's about time you start talking. How do we find Killian? What kind of traps will we be walking into. You better start talking, or so help me…"
"So help you what?" Rumple sneered. "You'll charm me to death? Give me a strongly worded lecture on hope and family? In case you didn't notice, I'm the Dark One again. I have more power than you could hope to have in fifty lifetimes."
David looked ready to step in and punch the grin off Rumple's face, but Henry intervened. "Please, Gramps! We…we need to get Killian back."
Rumple continued sneering at David for another moment, and then his face softened. "It appears my grandson is the only one among you with any manners at all. Since he's asked so nicely, I'll impart my knowledge to you. Did it occur to you that there may be a reason the Underworld looks just like Storybrooke."
He looked around expectantly for a moment, but when no one spoke, he continued. "Storybrooke was created by a curse. A dark curse. A dark curse, as it happened that was guarded by a hell-beast, the Chernabog. A hell-beast who happens to reside in the very bowels of hell."
"So you're telling us," Mary Margaret said, stepping forward, "that the Underworld is…under a dark curse?"
Rumple giggled again. "Precisely. The residents are living through a kind of Purgatory; each day the same as the one before. Nothing ever changing. Nothing ever improving. As an added bonus, Hades added water from the lake Lethe to give it a memory loss component."
"Wait…" Regina said, raising her hand. "I was under the impression that the Underworld is for those souls who have unfinished business to work through. If they can't even remember who they are, let alone what their business was….how are they supposed to ever pass on?"
"That is the question, isn't it?" Rumple said with a nasty grin. "Those souls without unfinished business are sent directly to Elysium or hell; there's nothing Hades can do to stop that. Those souls with unfinished business, however, will be essentially trapped in Purgatory for all eternity; perfect slaves for Hades, seeing to his every whim."
As Rumple continued talking about the particulars about the Underworld Hades created, Emma tuned out. Suddenly the magnitude of the problem facing them became clear to her.
"So what you're telling us," Emma said, cutting Rumple off mid-sentence, "is that not only do we not know where Killian is; we don't even know who he is? You're telling me that even if we find him, he won't know us. He won't…he won't remember he loves me?"
Her voice broke on the last word, and she felt her mother step up to her and wrap an arm around her waist.
"Well that all depends," Rumple answered.
"Depends on what?" David said in a tight voice.
"On what kind of a man your pirate really was," Rumple drawled. "Only the heroes lose their memories here. Hades has worked the system so that his fellow villains remember everything. He's placed them in positions of power and prestige as a bribe to get them to keep his perfect little kingdom in order. It's worked quite well for him. The villains, of course, have no motivation to finish their business as their ultimate destiny is hell. So the question is, what was Hook—hero or villain?"
Emma rushed him then, hands outstretched, ready to choke him with her bare hands. Rumple stopped her with his magic before she could make contact. "How dare you even suggest he's a villain. Killian is one of the strongest, bravest most heroic men I've ever met. After everything you've done to him, you even dare to suggest…"
"Now, now, Miss Swan," he drawled, infuriating grin in place. "I merely asked a question. If it is as you say—your pirate is a hero—there's no way to tell where—or who—he is."
Suddenly the fight left Emma, the magnitude of their task seeming to weigh down on her like a five hundred pound weight on her shoulders. Tears filled her eyes, and without a word, she turned and walked toward the graveyard, not knowing where she was going, not knowing what she planned to do, just knowing she needed a moment.
But when she looked up and found herself face to face with a gravestone inscribed with the name "Killian Jones", she crumpled, dropping to her knees and letting the tears flow once more.
A moment later, she felt strong arms surrounding her. Her father held her from behind, while her son stood before her with sympathetic eyes. But there was something else in those brown eyes of his besides sympathy.
There was hope.
"It's okay, mom," he said with conviction. "This might be a more difficult adventure than we first thought, but we'll find him! We'll find him and we'll save him."
Emma stepped out of her father's embrace, and wrapped her son in her arms. "Love your optimism, kid."
"It's not just optimism," he said, hugging her back. "You guys have true love, and true love conquers all!"
Emma felt a pang. "Maybe we had true love before he died, but kid…he doesn't even remember me now! How am I supposed to split my heart with him—a…procedure that only works for the truest of all true loves?"
"Simple," Henry said with a shrug and a crooked smile. "You make him fall in love with you again. Don't forget, I saw you in the weird story book the author made. Even when he's…totally different from who he really is, he still falls in love with you. You're kindred spirits; no matter the time or place, you'll always fall in love."
His optimism was contagious, and slowly, but surely Emma felt her confidence returning. This was a fight they would win. She ruffled Henry's hair, smiling down at him. "What would I do without you?"
"Who knows?" he said with a mischievous grin. "See? I told you you needed me on this trip."
"Yeah, I do. I really do."
"You know, mom," Henry said after another hug, "I was thinking. We need a name for this mission."
She smiled, feeling irrationally buoyed by his statement. Henry's "operations" always succeeded. "What did you have in mind?"
"I was thinking…" he said, "what about 'Operation Phoenix'. You know, because Phoenixes are supposed to be able to rise from the dead."
Emma's smile widened. "Kid, I think that's perfect!"
After a moment, the three of them returned to the group. "Alright," Emma said, "so what do we do? Where do we start this search."
"I suggest you find shelter for the time being, a base of operations, as it were," Rumple said.
"You suggest we find shelter?" Regina said with a sneer. "What exactly will you be doing while we're looking?"
"Looking for back up," Rumple said smoothly. "There is a certain item in my shop I think could be tremendously helpful in our search."
Something about the way he said that struck Emma as wrong…her lie detector was going off like mad, but…well emotion did tend to cloud it sometimes. And, really, they could use all the help they could get. Deciding that her bad feeling was likely caused by her current hatred of Gold, she let the matter go.
"Okay, so one thing before you go," she said. "What's the deal with the dead people here? Are they some sort of…I don't know…zombies? What happens if we fight them? If they fight us?"
"I'd suggest you avoid that scenario," Rumple said. "As they're already dead, they cannot be killed. You, however, don't have that kind of immunity."
With that, he poofed away on a red cloud of smoke. Emma looked at the place he vacated for long moments, and then decided it was time to get to work on Operation Phoenix.
"Okay, well let's get going on finding shelter."
Notes:
-So basically the reason "Colin" doesn't remember who he is, what his life was like before the previous day, and only vaguely remembers a blonde woman he loves is because Hades cast the season 1 dark curse over the Underworld in order to stop turn-around and keep his employees/servants/slaves around to make his afterlife nice and comfortable.
-And that clearly is going to make Emma's task that much more difficult. She not only has to find Killian, she has to make him fall in love with her again and remember who he really is.
-The "Dan" in the long-long ago scene (the gardener who had finished his unfinished business and was preparing to move on to his eternal reward) was based on real life, sort of. I teach piano lessons to some kids from a family in a neighboring town. A week ago, their father Dan was killed in a car accident. It was so…shocking and sad, and it really hit me hard. He had 6 kids ranging in age from 2-12, and his wife is due to give birth to kid #7 on March 1. This is one of the nicest families I've ever met, so it's really devastating (not that it wouldn't be devastating even if they weren't nice, but you know what I mean). Luckily, there are lots and lots of people who know and love them and are doing everything they can for the widow and kids, so that's hopefully at least some comfort to them. Anyway, I kind of wanted to give him a little tribute.
-Up next: Long, long ago in the Underworld, the Fates come to Hades with a prophecy—a prophecy he is not even close to happy about (particularly when he gets word that the first bit of it has just taken place). In the present, the gang heads to Regina's house, looking for a base of operations—only to find it already occupied by someone none of them want to have a run-in with.