Chapter 4

Lacey shivered as the fall wind whipped around her. Auburn hair flew into her face and stuck to her lip gloss and she grimaced as she pushed it back, keeping her hand firmly behind her head to hold her hair in place. Blue pranced quickly in front of her. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun and even the wind seemed to avoid marring any part of the holy sister. She was the head nun, whatever that was called. That much Lacey knew. The rest was probably irrelevant. She wasn't a believer. She just needed Blue for this one thing. Then, after the town was saved or whatever, she could get back to the pawn shop. There was an unopened bottle of tequila that she was saving for a special occasion. Surviving a rampaging forest seemed like a good enough one.

They rounded a small hill where the asphalt turned into dirt and Lacey quickened her pace to keep up with Blue, who sped up once the mine was in sight. Lacey knew that Storybrooke had a mine, but she'd never actually seen or been into it. As they neared, she could see its dilapidated state, and she flashed Blue a concerned grimace as they neared the waning entrance.

"Are you…sure this is safe?" she asked.

Blue turned for the first time since they had begun this little mission, and regarded her patronizingly. Lacey supposed all nuns held that look of self-important bitchery but that didn't make her wince any less as she threw her eyes to the floor.

"Of course it's safe," came Blue's crisp response before she turned again and headed into the mine.

Free from the wrath of God's smiting eyes, Lacey exhaled and crossed her arms over her chest. She had done what Rumpel had asked and given Blue the scroll. Her part in this was done. She could do what she'd threatened and run away. Bright blue eyes turned and faced the sea. But what would she run away to? Another waitressing job? She had no family save for Rumpel. But even he seemed all too inclined to just run away and leave her. She'd been discarded once more. Hell, even Blue, who had dragged her along to this mine had disappeared, and she was probably already forgotten. Maybe this was a sign to leave. To—

"Lacey?"

She turned from the sea, following the voice back around to the mine. Blue was sticking her head out, and she gave a soft smile as Lacey's eyes met hers.

"Are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah sorry."

The words were out before she could even register what Blue had said. The fairy smiled and gestured almost sarcastically to the entrance, waving the young woman in. Apparently her self-loathing would have to wait. Licking her lips, Lacey obediently followed Blue into the mine. They were silent again as they walked, traipsing around the rails that ran through the center and taking care to watch their heads on low hanging support beams. Lacey was growing tired of the silence. It allowed her to think too much. And if she thought too much there was nothing that could stop her from racing out of this hole and jumping into the sea and swimming away forever.

"So, what exactly are we doing?

"We're putting up a barrier around Storybrooke."

"A barrier?"

"Yes. When Queen Regina enacted the curse, Storybrooke was protected from people of this land by a barrier. When Emma broke the curse, she also broke the barrier, allowing Greg and Tamara in, as you well know." She turned around to make sure that Lacey was paying attention before rounding another corner. "So we need to put the barrier back up to prevent any more mishaps."

"Okay," Lacey acquiesced, much too tired to focus on the farfetchedness of Blue's reasoning. "So, why am I here, then?"

"To help me."

"How?"

Blue stopped finally, straightening her posture and clasping her hands across her waist. They were in a well-lit area of the mine, too far away to be seen from the outside but not far enough in to cause too much trepidation. Lacey noticed a rack of pickaxes and she smirked as she recognized the names of all seven dwarves on them. At this point she wasn't even surprised anymore. When she finally focused back on the fairy, Blue smiled at her and handed her the scroll.

"By believing."

Lacey frowned, taking the scroll gently from Blue's gloved hand. She unrolled it and read the text. It was simple enough. The rhyme wasn't even very clever. Truth told, she was kind of hoping for a foreign and beautiful language, not this half assed spell she could have found at any second rate wiccan store. She looked up to voice her concerns to Blue, only to notice that she had disappeared. Lacey furrowed her brow in confusion and turned to come face to face with a pickaxe. She jumped, leaping back against a jutting out rock, placing her hand over her heart as she watched Blue coming towards her, a maniacal gleam in her dark eyes.

Okay, maybe it wasn't a maniacal gleam. It looked more like she was entertained and apologetic. But the former made her look like less of a chicken shit. Regaining her breath, Lacey flung her hand out towards Blue, who looked like she'd held a pickaxe all her life.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Blue just smiled and jerked her head to the side. "Could you move, please?"

Not really in a position to argue, Lacey took a few steps to the side and watched Blue, clad in her all blue mother superior garb, heave the heavy axe over her head and bring it down on the rock Lacey had just rested against. It cracked wide open, glimmering dust flitting slowly out of it.

"Fairy dust," Blue said, slightly out of breath as she dropped the pickaxe on the floor. She headed over to the rock and peered inside, gesturing Lacey over. "Veins of fairy dust run all around the town. If we put the spell in there, it should do the trick."

"Just…stick the paper in there?" Lacey asked, holding up the scroll and eyeing the small crack in the rock. If it was truly that easy she was going to be really pissed that she was dragged all the way down here.

Blue smiled kindly and shook her head, unraveling the scroll once more and holding it over the crevice. "You just take it in your hands, believe, and blow."

Lacey chuckled in spite of herself, raising a lone eyebrow in the fairy's direction. "Blow?"

"Mhmm," she answered, pulling Lacey over in front of the rock and forcing the paper into her hands.

Now standing in front of this rock filled with shiny fairy dust holding a piece of paper with a shitty rhyme on it in the presence of a fairy nun, Lacey felt a little silly. She could feel her cheeks warming and she let out an unsure laugh, glancing over at Blue again.

"Why can't you do this?" she asked with a huff.

Blue just smiled and jutted out her chin. "Just try. Please."

Lacey sighed heavily, licking her lips and turning back to her task. Believe, she had said. Believe in what? In fairies, fairy dust, dwarves? She didn't know, and she really didn't want to ask. She probably wouldn't believe the answer to begin with. Repeating the incantation in her head, Lacey closed her eyes and thought of today's events. She thought of the forest, of their imminent death. She thought of Henry disappearing through a portal in the ocean. She thought of magic beans and pirate ships and Rumpel. She thought of these things, and blew out.

Everything was silent. Slowly, Lacey opened one eye and looked down at the scroll. It looked exactly the same. The rock look exactly the same. Biting her bottom lip, she dared a slow glance at Blue, and found the answer in her sympathetic eyes. Whatever she was supposed to have done, she didn't do it. Lacey shook her head, feeling stupid for falling for something so asinine, and felt Blue's hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Lacey. You'll get there. I know you will."

"Get to where?" Lacey answered, not being able to hide the whine in her voice. Everyone else seemed hundreds of steps ahead of her and all she was doing was making a fool of herself.

Blue said nothing in response, but merely took the scroll from Lacey's hands. She held it in her own and stood in front of the rock. She closed her eyes and smiled, even giving a light chuckle. Then the mother superior pursed her lips and blew out onto the paper. Lacey's eyes widened as she watched the ink on the paper dissolve and flit away like dust into the air before it was sucked into the crevice. A small pulse shook the ground and Lacey looked to the ceiling as Blue let out a content grin.

"There. That should keep us safe for a while. Now, we should be heading back. I imagine you'll be expected back in town."

"M-me?"

"Of course. You're the one that brought Storybrooke back together. Now it's your job to keep it that way."

Lacey groaned and halfheartedly kicked the rocks at her feet as she followed the perky nun out of the mine. "Lucky me."

0-0-0-0-0

The Jolly Roger had docked safely, thanks to Hook's masterful steering, and while the men worked to unload supplies for their journey the women were stretching their legs on land. Regina, as usual, had distanced herself from the others and was standing at the edge of the water, arms crossed as she looked out into the foggy ocean. As much as she hated to admit it, the day's worth of sleep had done her a world of good. She felt refreshed, sharp, and powerful. Her fingers tingled in anticipation and she smiled to herself. Henry couldn't fault her for using magic to find him.

Or could he?

Her smile fell then as she looked from the water down to her muddied and expensive boots. Would he blame her? Would he focus on Emma, his grandparents, who preach nothing but empty honor and shun her? She felt pressure forming at the back of her eyes at the thought and quickly tried to blink the would-be tears away. She had to rid herself of these thoughts. She had to. Her son's life was at stake. And yet, despite that fact, Regina couldn't keep the self-loathing from surfacing, rising up and over her walls until a soft breeze could knock her over. She couldn't even get over herself to save her son. Maybe she should just stay on the ship.

In the midst of her stretching, Snow looked over and saw Regina a good distance away, staring out into the sea. With the boys aboard the ship, she and Emma were alone. She smiled, glancing over at her daughter who stood proudly, filling her pack with supplies. Emma exuded confidence. Confidence that she fed off of from others. Because she certainly didn't have any of her own. Because her mother wasn't there to teach it to her. Snow's face fell as she watched her daughter, lost to her in more ways than she could have ever imagined. Frowning, she made her way over to Emma and sat on a nearby log next to her. Emma looked up at her approach and flashed a polite smile.

"Hey."

"Hey," Snow answered too hopefully. She could tell by the way Emma's shoulders hitched. She was bracing herself for a talk she didn't want. A talk that she never seemed to want. But this time, Snow acquiesced. Emma's son was missing after all, and that was more important now. As much as she wanted to connect with her daughter, that would have to wait for another time. "So what do you think of Rumpel's plan?"

"Well, I'm not a big fan of the secrecy," Emma admitted, dropping her pack for a moment and stretching her arms over her head, "But he and Hook are the only ones familiar with this place, so we've got little choice."

"You don't think they're plotting something, do you?" Snow asked, her wide eyes filling with concern.

Emma gave a slight smile and shrugged. "Sometimes it's nice not to think everyone's out to get you."

"Sorry. It's a bad habit I picked up from running my entire life," Snow answered, a little more harshly than she'd intended.

"Yeah? Me too." Emma retorted, unfazed.

Snow felt her heart plummeting into her chest as she stood from the log and reached out to her daughter, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Emma, I'm sorry. That was insensitive. I didn't mean—

"It's okay, Snow," Emma interrupted, her bright eyes showing no trace of offense. "I know what you meant."

Snow opened her mouth to respond, only to realize that Emma had called her by her first name. She had called her 'mom' in the mine, and Charming 'dad.' Was that just because they were all about to die? Did she even mean it at the time? Did Emma even want to try becoming a family? Snow kicked her feet into the dirt. No matter how hard she tried, she was still Mary-Margaret Blanchard. Sometimes it seemed as if there were just too many years between them. The sound of shuffling feet pulled both women from their thoughts and they looked up to see Rumpel, Charming, and Hook carrying down the last bit of goods from the ship.

It was silent for a while as everyone worked to fill their packs with as much necessities as they could. Rumpel finished first and he stood, slinging the pack over his shoulder as he looked down at the rest of the group. "Well, I have something that needs tending to. If you all will excuse me, I'll meet you back at the camp tonight," he said before attempting to stride off into the jungle.

Charming shot up instantly, placing his hand on the Dark One's shoulder. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked.

"I believe I just told you," Rumpel retorted, his gold tooth glimmering as he flashed the other man a smile.

"Look, we've agreed to put aside our differences for the sake of Henry, but don't think we've forgotten what's been done here," Charming said, his eyes flashing from Rumpel to Hook before they settled on Regina. "I'm not letting any of you out of my sight."

Rumpel's eyes darkened at the threat. He could feel the magic on this island the moment they broke through the portal, and his body fed hungrily on it. It made him irritable, arrogant, and he loved it. "Oh really? And what are you gonna do? Poke me with your manly stick? Do you forget that I'm the Dark One, dearie?" He gestured behind himself to Emma and Snow, who were standing with the rest of the others. "You've just found your family. Don't make me part you from them so soon."

Charming's eyes darkened and even Rumpel had to admit that had he not been the Dark One, he might have been intimidated by it. But as it was, he just looked like a fool, and Rumpel smiled again as he watched his ever dutiful wife come to his aid.

"Rumpel, why would you say a thing like that?" Snow said, her voice airy with naivety. "We're family."

"I wasn't the one who threatened first," Rumpel countered.

Behind them all, Regina rolled her eyes, letting out a muffled groan of annoyance. Hook, who was next to her, smirked as well and gave a nod.

"You think it'll be like this the entire time we're here?" he asked as he unscrewed his flask and took a long drink.

"It was like this in Storybrooke. Why would my missing son put things into perspective?" Regina answered him coldly.

Hook nodded again and looked down at the flask. "I am truly sorry about that. Henry's a good lad. Smart, resourceful. He must get that from his mother."

Regina's eyebrows lifted upwards momentarily as she looked over at Emma, feeling a sense of sadness tug at her chest. "Yes, well, Emma's not entirely horrible, when she's not being an infuriating, stubborn, clueless Charming and trying to take Henry away from me."

Hook smiled, using his good hand to gently touch the side of Regina's arm. "I meant you."

Regina looked over, trying to look for any sort of deceit in his eyes. When she could find none, she resorted to plan B.

"You're drunk."

"I am," Hook agreed jovially, taking the opportunity to drink once more. "But that doesn't mean I'm not sincere."

Regina rolled her eyes to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Well, sober up, I'm not gonna wait around while you stumble around out there."

"As you wish, highness," Hook answered, nearly falling over as he attempted a bow.

"Rumpel, could you at least tell us what you're doing?" Emma asked, hoping to placate the rowdy crowd.

Unsurprisingly, Rumpel shook his head. "Afraid not. Pan and eyes and ears, you know."

Emma sighed, her arms falling weakly to her sides. "Then at least you can understand why we're a little concerned."

Rumpel turned to face her then, his eyes flitting to the dirt before he met her eyes again, and gave a single nod. "That I do. And I know that I haven't earned it yet, but I'm asking you to trust me. I will be back by tonight."

Charming's eyes drifted down to Emma. From her other side she could also see Snow waiting for her response. Weren't these people rulers in the Enchanted Forest? If so, why did it always fall to her to make the decisions? Oh, right, she was the savior. Emma sighed. She didn't like the idea of letting Rumpel go off alone, but if his intentions truly were good, then a lot of trust could be gained by this leap of faith. As casually as she could muster, Emma glanced over Rumpel's shoulder, finding Regina.

She was standing tall, arms crossed and hip jutted out, looking extremely infuriated. What else was new? Although she didn't notice Emma staring at her, she did take this moment of silence to speak, and she picked up her pack and headed over to the rest of the group.

"If Rumpel was behind Henry's abduction, hiring some boy to take him to another land seems a bit over the top, doesn't it? Even if that is your style." Regina neared Rumpel and glared at him, her eyes never faltering. "Go. If your word is good we'll see you tonight. If not, rest assured that if you try to impede my son's rescue in any way, I will take you down."

"Fair enough, dearie," Rumpel answered, giving his signature bow and brushing past Charming into the forest.

Charming grunted at the force with which he was hit and turned back to Emma with a flabbergasted expression. "So, we're taking orders from the queen again?" he asked, flinging his hand in Regina's direction, causing her to wince.

"Why not? Her voice carries just as much weight as everyone else's. Now let's just move," Emma finished, her tone of voice silencing Charming before she turned to Hook. Her eyes drifted from the flask in his hand to his reddened eyes. "Can you lead us to a camping spot?"

Hook smiled, seeming surprisingly as he strode confidently past them all to lead the way. "Aye, love, we'll be at Tinkerbell's before you know it."

"Tinkerbell?" This time it was Regina's shrill voice that cut through the short lived calm.

Emma groaned and dropped her pack on the ground, turning to face the brunette. "What is it now?" she asked, exasperated.

Regina eyed her, dark eyebrows lowering to a smoldering glare. Emma was tired. They were all tired and they'd certainly had enough fighting for one day. The queen straightened her posture, giving Emma the most condescending look she could muster at the moment. It seemed to go right over her head. It always did. It was maddening. But she'd have to let it go for now.

"Nothing. Lead on, savior," she answered cruelly, watching Emma's shoulders sink for just a moment before she turned and followed Hook into the forest.

Everyone followed after her with Regina taking up the rear. The jungle was hot, muggy, wet and suffocating and as she fought to keep wet leaves from smacking into her face a part of her wished that she had joined Rumpel on his solo journey.

0-0-0-0-0

His body was on fire. Neal hissed aloud as he shot up, only to groan and fall back at the pain that it caused. He hit something soft as he fell, and forced his watering eyes open, taking shallow breaths as he tried not to pass out from the pain. Black rock surrounded him, shimmering in the flickering of scattered candles. A cave. He didn't remember making it to a cave, and he sure as hell didn't remember lighting any candles. He chanced a look down at what he was laying on, discovering an impressive pile of fresh, soft leaves. They were chilled in the dankness of the cave and somewhat eased his burning, but not enough. His shirt looked to be nearby, crumpled in a bloody heap. Natural moonlight flooded in at the far side of the cave through a small hole, and fell onto an empty hammock, bolted between two sides of stone.

Fear started to prickle at the back of his neck. If this was Neverland, there was no telling where he was or who this cave dweller might be. He had to get out of here. If he could make it to the spring, or find some of those leaves out in the jungle, he might have a chance of surviving. And if he could survive, the possibilities were endless. He made it out of Neverland once. He could do it again. And he could find Emma, and maybe he'd get his happily ever after.

Filled with purpose, Neal gritted his teeth and rolled to his side, trying to rise. His body felt like it was going to split in two, but still he tried, fighting shock and dizziness as the pain overwhelmed him. Just when he was about to make some progress, he felt two hands on his shoulders. He had expelled most of his energy in just rolling over, and was no match for the gentle force of the small hands as they pushed him back towards the makeshift bed. Neal felt sweat on his brow and blinked rapidly to try to clear the dizziness.

The hands on his shoulders moved away, and instinctively Neal shot his hand out in a flimsy attack at whoever was holding him hostage. A warm, petite hand grabbed his sloppy one easily, and set it at his side. Then, whoever it was, laughed. It just for a moment, a chuckle at his pathetic attempt, but Neal recognized it instantly, opening his eyes and forcing them to focus on the figure in front of him. So far it was just a blur of dark and light colors, but there was no mistaking that laugh.

"Tinkerbell?"

"Hello, Baelfire," came the reply. Her voice was filled with restrained elation and she smiled down at him, laughing again. "You've grown since I last saw you. Still just as stubborn, though."

Neal collapsed on the bed, allowing his body to relax in the fairy's presence. In his stillness the pain began to subside, and the fog around his mind slowly cleared. He could hear her nearby, shuffling quietly as she crushed what he hoped were the leaves he'd intended to look for. His pain had localized now, to the gunshot wound just below his ribcage. It had to have missed all of the vitals for him to still be alive, but the pain led him to believe that the bullet was still inside of him. He couldn't let it heal that way. He'd never be able to move around, much less get off the island, if that were the case. Slowly, he turned his head over, and his eyes focused on the kind fairy before him.

She was a petite, young woman, with blue eyes and an elf-like face. Her clothes were well kept, but made from tatters and her blonde hair coiled tightly in this humidity, and she kept it out of the way in a sloppy bun on the back of her head. She was crushing up something in a makeshift mortar and pestle, her kind eyes serious as they focused at the task at hand. There was a small fire on the other side of her, going nicely. He smiled to himself. This wasn't the first time she'd saved his life. But this time, he vowed to return the favor.

"You're still here," he spoke softly, finishing it with a sad sigh.

Her shoulders tensed for a moment, then fell, and she spared a sideways glance at him as she continued her task.

"I am."

"Tink, I'm so sorry. If I had—

"Don't worry about it, Baelfire," she said with a smile, reaching out to touch the stubble on his cheek. "Time works differently here. You know that. Feels like you've been gone for just a few hours."

It was a lie. He knew it was a lie. Hours in Neverland felt like years, making his guilt all the more severe. But the intensity of her deep blue eyes made it apparent that she did not want to argue, and so he dropped it, giving a single nod.

"You can call me Neal, if you want," he offered to the silence. "It's less of a mouthful."

"Neal," she repeated, looking up at the wall as she pondered the name. She said it once more then looked over at him and smiled to herself. "You do look like you've outgrown Baelfire."

She stopped her crushing and looked down at her concoction, giving it a pleasing nod before she dipped her finger into it. Neal looked expectantly at her, oblivious to the severity of the gaping hole in his torso. His body was big, strong, and hairy. So many reminders of how he had grown, and how alone she had been during his absence. He had been such a sweet boy, and that appeared to have carried over into the man in front of her. She smiled sadly and watched his eyes as she slowly reached out to him.

Neal nodded and took a deep breath, bracing. Tinkerbell's fingers were soft and gentle, but even the slightest touch to his wound was agonizing. He grunted through gritted teeth, his hands struggling to find something to grip onto to keep him from lashing out at the fairy. He felt her free hand slip into his and he latched onto it, oblivious to anything else but her touch, her consolation.

It felt like he was going to crush her hand, but Tinkerbell made no effort to remove it. She didn't know what kind of weapon could cause this sort of injury, and she didn't want to find out. Her salve would numb it, ease his pain, but she knew he wasn't out of danger yet. She just needed him to be coherent enough to tell her what it was. The island was full of natural remedies, she just needed to know which ones to use.

A few minutes after she had stopped applying the salve, Neal's face started to relax. The numbing agent was working, and he began to release his grip on her hand, cognizant enough to massage it as he did so. She flexed her hand in his palm, feeling no permanent damage, and gently pulled it away as he gave a relieved sigh and smiled over at her. He looked so pleased with her, and she quickly dropped her eyes to her knees, fiddling with her clothes.

"It's just a numbing agent. Nothing's actually healing," she offered with a shake of her head.

Neal's smile just widened. "I feel like a million bucks."

She furrowed her brow in confusion at him and he shook his head. "Never mind, just an expression. How'd you get me back here anyway?"

Tinkerbell smiled. "It wasn't easy. Thankfully you passed out near one of my places." She gestured grandiosely to the cave before her bright eyes fell again. She reached out to Neal, taking his hand as she shook her head. "Why would you ever come back here?" she whispered.

Neal gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Believe me, it wasn't by choice. It's a long story."

"I'd like to hear it."

"I'll tell you. But first, we have to get this bullet out of me."

"Bullet?" Tinkerbell's brow furrowed again as she looked down at his wound.

"Yeah, it's…uh…like a projectile. A small piece of metal lodged deep in my body."

"Oh! Like an arrowhead!" she chirped excitedly, her shoulders falling with relief. "I know how to get those out."

"You do? How—

Before Neal could say any more Tinkerbell reached into her pocket and pulled out a fine purple dust. She winked at him before gently blowing the dust in his face, rendering him unconscious at the first inhale. She smiled at his sleeping form, thankful that he wouldn't remember any of what she was about to do. She'd certainly never had that luxury. She looked down at her own stomach and gently pulled up her shirt, revealing her own scar. It was just to the right of her bellybutton, pale and bulbous from lack of proper care. A grimace marred her face and she lowered her shirt, reaching for her knife. Hopefully the second time around she could do a better job.