As the wind laughs in my face
I've grown harder on the eyes
And salty to the taste
My pride has gone with the wake
As I wait a cold wet grave
I rose to the smell
Of a wet desert hell
And I thought to myself
How'd I wind up in this jail
Flogging Molly, Cruel Mistress
What. The. Hell.
Emma hoped she was still asleep in her car. She hoped she was just shaking off the remnants of a bad dream. She hoped that the warmth and wetness seeping through her clothes were just from a sweat filled night caused by accidentally falling asleep with the car's heater on and, at worst, she'd have to deal with a dead battery.
Instead, she was laying face first in a mud puddle in the middle of a lush, tropical forest. All around her were colors that were bright—too bright for her sore eyes; from the beautiful rainbow of flowers that looked as though they were raining down from the vines in the dense canopy of trees, to the bright blue of the sky peaking through the thick green leaves.
From her perspective, everything was enormous. And swirling. Though that might have just been because of the concussion.
She pulled herself out of the mud with a loud squelch. She was filthy, every part of her ached something fierce, and the large mud-caked gash on her head was a pretty good indication of her less than smooth landing. And she was alone. Abandoned. Again.
Great.
She had no idea what it was she was supposed to do. She was alone in an unfamiliar wilderness, she had little to no supplies, and even if she had some way to get her bearings, she had no idea where she was supposed to go because she was in freaking Neverland. To say that she was overwhelmed would be an understatement.
Okay, just think. What do they do in movies? Find food and water. There's mud. That means water, right? She whipped her head around a few times looking for a water source, but there was none in sight. She reasoned that there had to be a river around somewhere; even if she couldn't see it, she thought she could distantly hear rushing water.
She tried to narrow in on the sound, and after a moments deliberation decided to walk straight ahead. She was bound to run into water eventually, right?
Hours Later
The sun was rapidly sinking past the horizon in the distance. Emma had no concept of how long it had been, but the mud on her clothes had dried into ever flaking dirt; she was sore, dizzy, uncomfortable, exhausted, hot, thirsty, and a multitude of other complaints that all added up to being absolutely miserable. And as far as she could tell? She was still no closer to finding water.
She groaned in frustration. She had never lived in the wilderness. She had never even been camping, not really. Unless you counted squatting on a park bench over night—which didn't exactly prepare her for this place.
She spied a vine covered tree in the distance, and came up with an idea—she needed to get her bearings, and she was never going to do that from the ground. And worst case scenario, at least it would get her off of the ground, right? She hadn't spied any wildlife yet, but she wasn't exactly looking forward to whatever nocturnal beasts this land had. She may have been lost, alone, and the size of a dormouse but Emma Swan drew the line at dying as owl food.
She approached the foot of the tree and looked up. From Emma's perspective, the nearest branch might as well be a mile off of the ground. She wasn't afraid of heights so much as she worried about her own limitations. The vines looked thick and sturdy enough to easily support her weight, but after months of inactivity due to pregnancy, and having spent the day walking aimlessly in her search for water, she was exhausted—if she lost her energy even halfway to the top, she was done for.
Seeing no other option, she took a deep breath and began her ascent.
If she had worried about being lost in her own thoughts, that concern was quickly vanquished as she concentrated on the climb. It was a bit harder to get a grip on the vines than she originally had thought; they were particularly thick in some areas, which required a bit of navigation to get around—a feat that was becoming more and more difficult as the sky darkened. Slowly, but steadily, she made her way up.
By the time she reached the branch at the top it the sun had long since set. She could make out the shape of the landscape in the moonlight, but it was too dark to make out any details which meant she was no closer to finding the nearest water source.
Sticky, aching, and defeated, she collapsed into a ball near the trunk of the tree and, giving into her exhaustion, she immediately fell dead asleep.
"Emma? Emma? Wake up Emma!"
For a brief, crazed moment, Emma found herself hoping she was back in prison; that the events of the previous day had been a fevered nightmare, and she could just fall back into the routine she knew so well.
Those hopes were immediately dashed when she opened her eyes and found herself face to face with Tinker Bell.
"Emma, I've been looking all over for you! Where did you go?"
Emma stared at the fairy incredulously. Was she really expecting her to answer that?
Taking in the state of her unwilling companion, Tinker Bell tsked.
"Did you climb all the way up here? Poor thing. Come, we'll get you washed up."
Without waiting for a response from Emma, Tinker Bell clasped her hand and dragged her from the tree.
"Whoa!" Emma's stomach felt like it dropped out from under her, and she brought her other hand up to grasp the fairy's wrist for dear life. Only there was no need; once the panic receded Emma became aware of the fact that she felt light, as though Tinker Bell were dragging her through water instead of high above the forest floor.
Tinker Bell giggled, clearly expecting this response, which earned her a glare from Emma.
Now in the clear light of day, flitting through the tree tops, Emma got a better idea of her location. To her right all she could see were trees, foliage, and an array of brightly colored flowers growing out from every which direction. To her left, far off in the distance, lay an expansive clear blue ocean, nearly blinding her with the sun's reflection. She was in a regular tropical paradise. Which would have been far more exciting were she not smaller than the fruits she could spy high up in the trees.
Tinker Bell, blessedly, dropped her next to the stream that Emma had spent the entirety of the previous day searching for.
Emma had never been more grateful to see water in her entire life. Immediately she began gulping down handful after handful, ignoring her amused onlooker completely.
"Thirsty, are we?"
Emma didn't waste her energy glaring. Instead, she drank her fill, then began to rinse off. The combination of the caked in dirt and water was doing nothing more than turning her into a muddy mess. Frustrated, Emma began to scoot her way into the cold river.
"Emma, no, be careful—!"
But it was too late. The river seemed peaceful enough, but for someone Emma's size the current was too strong. She was immediately dragged away from the shoreline and began barreling down the river, all the while struggling to keep her head above water.
"EMMA!"
Tinker Bell flitted overhead, trying to catch Emma in the rushing river. She watched as Emma went under time and time again. She darted over to the shoreline and grabbed a twig—which was rather large for the pixie—and hurried to bring it to Emma.
"Emma! Grab hold!"
She held out one end for Emma to hold onto. Emma saw it, and took her chance, latching onto it with both hands. But instead of being lifted up, as she had hoped, all she managed to do was drag the pixie down.
"Oh!" Tinker Bell sputtered. She let go of the twig and immediately shot out of the water, shaking off her wings. Her dress had been ruined, and her hair was a soggy mess. She spun around quickly trying to dry herself off. By the time she was satisfied that no lasting harm had been done, Emma was long gone.
In what was becoming an increasingly familiar sensation, Emma awoke sore, disoriented, and in an unfamiliar environment.
She coughed the remnants of water from her lungs and tried to get an idea of where she ended up.
Everywhere she looked was sand, glaringly bright and reminding her unpleasantly of the desert prison she had just been released from— though it felt like that could have been a lifetime ago.
Still, it left a heavy feeling in her stomach that had nothing to do with her near death experience.
Dragging herself away from the water's edge, she pulled herself up further onto the beach. Once satisfied she was out of danger of being dragged away yet again, she allowed herself a moment to dry off, even enjoying warming herself in the sun. For just a moment she could close her eyes and pretend that she was camping out on a beach, instead of trapped in a scenario beyond her worst nightmare.
So engrossed in her beach bum fantasy, she failed to notice the man who had spying on her from the woods nearby. Stealthily, so as not to alert her to his presence, he crept up on her relaxed form.
"Gotcha!"
Emma bolted upright, but it was too late. He had already grabbed her, her entire body practically fitting in the palm of her hand. She tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use.
Before she knew it, she had been shoved in what very much looked like a red knit sack.
A/N: OMG I HATED WRITING THIS CHAPTER. I scrapped so many versions of it. I'm really not a fan of overly descriptive scenery, and I tried very hard not to do it here. But then I realized I hadn't described it at all and had to go back and it just kept becoming a mess.
Also, I know there are Captain Floor shippers out there so I'm sorry to inform you that it was obviously SwanFloor first and forever.
And Smee! In case the red knit sack/cap wasn't a giveaway. I thought maybe people wouldn't buy Smee being stealthy at anything, as he's a fairly large man but you know what? He's a procurer. You don't become a procurer without being a bit stealthy.
I'm so happy to be through this chapter. This one had the least notes. It was pretty much just "Emma ends up in Neverland. Emma falls in river. Emma is captured by pirates." Filling in the blanks of that was… not so much fun.
Next chapter? Hook.
