Aurora coughed as the light faded, reaching in the dark. "Mulan!" she shouted, her voice echoing around them.
"I'm here." The warrior grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. "Stay near me."
"Where are we?"
"I don't know. Somewhere magic, I would guess. But we've left our own land." Mulan drew her sword. "Best we don't wander—"
"Dujour!" Aurora screamed as a ghostly white silhouette passed her. It can't be… But then another two shapes passed her. "Mother… Father… No… No, she promised."
"She didn't hurt us, my little dawn." The woman's outline reached out and touched Aurora's cheek, sending cold shocks down the princess' body. "We thought we had lost both you and your brother. After we learned you were missing, and your brother's body was found… it broke both our hearts."
"Mama, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry." Aurora sobbed, reaching out her arms to embrace the specter, but she passed through, the cold feeling dousing her again. The shapes disappeared into the mist as she pulled away. "Wait! No! No, Mama, Papa, don't go! Please, don't go!"
"Aurora, we have to stay back." Mulan pulled her back by the arm. "We're clearly in the land of the dead, and the dead are not meant to mix with the living."
"But… But my family! I have to see them!"
"You can't. I'm sorry." Mulan took Aurora's face in her free hand. "There are so many people I wish I could've seen again. But the danger's too great."
"I only just spoke to them…" Aurora sobbed. "They thought I was dead…"
"Aurora." Both women turned to see another figure. "Mulan." This one wasn't the same as the last three ghosts. Standing before them, an echo of himself, was Phillip. "What are you doing here? You're not dead, are you?"
"No.. No, and neither are you. We're going to get you back." Mulan promised.
"I can't leave. You need to leave while you can." Phillip urged.
"Too late for that, I think," a new voice boomed. This one was raspy, and just barely female. "Bring the living women to me. Now."
Storybrooke
Natasha stood in front of 108 Mifflin Street, rubbing her taser bracelet tensely. She had long since learned to quell her feelings, but the tiniest bit of nervousness was rising in her chest. It was the same niggling that she'd felt when Coulson had said 'Barton's been compromised.' Clint Barton was hers, and she was his. They were a partnership. A team. Two halves of one unit. Swallowing her misgivings, she made her way down the front walk and knocked on the door. It swung open effortlessly at her touch, revealing a huge, brightly lit white foyer. It was empty of anyone, and the entire house gave the impression that it was pristine, and very much a place to look at, not to live in.
"I'm here," she called out, keeping one hand on her bracelet. "Where are you?"
"Upstairs," Regina's voice answered. "Please, Miss Romanoff, come join us."
"Tash, don't…. AGH!" Clint let out a yell of pain that made Natasha tense and sprint up the stairs to the only open door. Clint sat on an ottoman, his stealth weapons on the floor in front of him. He wasn't bound, which only made her more uneasy. Clint was not the type to sit quietly, especially when he was in danger.
"Show yourself." Natasha said, keeping her voice even. "I'm not negotiating unless I can see you, Regina."
"Well, of course, dear." Regina stepped out of the shadows, a smug smile on her face. Natasha felt a surge of hate for that smile, and fought the urge to punch the raven haired woman in the face. "I'm not a barbarian, after all. Now, why don't you take off your weapons, and we'll talk about this like sensible people."
"You've attacked a government agent, that's a federal crime. I'm within my rights to incapacitate you and escort you to the nearest government post of operations."
Regina laughed mockingly. "I'd like to see you try, dear." Natasha lashed out her hand, sending a charge through the taser, but something jerked her hand backwards, ripping the bracelet from her wrist. An older woman with soft brown hair emerged from the other side of the room, holding the bracelet delicately. "Thank you, Mother."
"You're quite welcome, my love." The woman handed Regina the bracelet, and took something from the pocket of her pantsuit jacket. A glowing red human heart. "Would you care to hold this?"
"No, I think you can keep it." Regina replied. "But feel free to demonstrate at any point."
"I think I will." The older woman squeezed the heart and Clint gave another grunt of pain. "Nothing quite like the power of holding someone's life in your hands. But then, I suppose you don't know anything about magic, do you, young lady?"
"I know enough to know it's not meant to be in the hands of people like you," Natasha retorted coldly. "Either of you. We didn't come here with hostile intent, and you attacked us."
"You're a stranger. And here, strangers are threats."
"I would expect nothing less from a town that appears out of nowhere, I suppose. So, are you going to tell me why you're here, or not? That's all we wanted, information."
"And then you'll leave?" Regina asked. Her mother sat on the bed, tracing the outline of Clint's heart idly.
"So long as you're not considered to be a threat." Natasha answered. Although you are looking more like one with every moment, she thought grimly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is solely concerned with the preservation of the human race. So, tell me, what are you doing here?"
"Getting a happy ending. And if you're so concerned for humans, let me reassure you, we're not planning on leaving Storybrooke." Natasha searched Regina's face, trying to find any trace of a lie. She knew every trick a person might use to pretend they were telling the truth, but none of them were evident in Regina's face. Whatever intents she might have, she was telling the truth.
"I believe you. Now, put that heart back right now, and we'll be on our way."
"Not so fast." Regina nodded, and her mother's grip on the heart tightened. Clint grimaced, but didn't make a sound. "You recognized our tall, dark stranger, didn't you?"
"I only thought I did. He just looks like someone I once met. Believe me, if he were the person that I met, I would have shot him on sight. He's more of a menace than you ever could be."
"What is his name?" the mother asked.
"That's not your concern." Natasha snapped.
"His name." The woman squeezed again, and Clint's body twitched, but Natasha steeled herself. "Answer me, girl, or he dies."
"It's what we're trained for, we go into every mission prepared to give our lives for the greater good." Natasha answered impassively. "Besides, if you wanted to kill him, you already would have. You're acting as if you have the upper hand, but in reality, I do. I'm not giving you any power over me. Sorry to disappoint."
"Then you're—" Natasha didn't let Regina finish speaking, but instead kicked her in the stomach and flung herself at the mother, knocking the heart out of her hands. Clint immediately sprung from the ottoman, snatching the glowing red object in midair. Without hesitating, he jammed it back into his chest, shuddering for an instant before grabbing his gear.
"Get out! I'll cover you!" Natasha yelled, charging her second bracelet. Clint nodded, vaulting himself over her as she flung the charged bracelet at the light fixture overhead. As the two made contact, sparks flew, giving her enough time to run after him. She found him outside, setting the quinjet to auto. "How close is it?"
"We've got to get to the beach," he answered, "and we have two crazies hot on our trail."
"That diner, there." She pointed to the sign reading Granny's. He nodded and they slipped in. The diner's customers didn't seem to bat an eye at the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents grabbing barstools. "Two coffees, please," Natasha called. The old woman behind the counter nodded, and turned to fill their mugs. "What happened to you?"
"Long story. But I'm getting really tired of magic users messing with my heart, to make a long story short."
"How'd you know how to get it back in?"
"They ripped it out of my chest, I figured it worked in the opposite way, too." Clint shrugged, accepting his coffee cup. "Thanks, by the way. For coming after me. But you know you shouldn't have."
'Of course I should have. We're a team." She sipped her own coffee lightly. The flavor was sharp, but not overpowering. "Not half bad. And decent prices." She indicated the price board.
Storybrooke Hospital, the next day
"Are you not going out today?" Belle asked. Adam looked up from The Lord of the Rings at her. He was about to answer when a ringing sound came from inside Belle's bag. "Oh… um… just a moment." She pulled the ringing silver box out and looked at it. "It's… it's him." She put it next to her ear. "Mr. Gold, I… I told you, I don't remember you." She paused to listen, her brow furrowing. Adam set his book aside and made his way towards her. Belle didn't seem to notice him, and kept talking into the box. "Oh… I'm… I'm so sorry." Adam sat next to her, just able to hear Mr. Gold's voice.
"I know that you're ... confused about who you are. So I'm gonna tell you. You are a hero who helped your people. You're a beautiful woman who loved an ugly man. Really, really loved me. You find goodness in others. And when it's not there, you create it. You make me wanna go back, back .. to the best version of me. And that never happened before. So when you look at the mirror and you don't know who you are, that's who you are. Thank you ... Belle."
There was a beep, and then silence. Belle slowly placed the box down and looked up at Adam. "Did you…"
"Yes, I heard it."
Belle whimpered softly and crumpled into his chest. "What do I do?" she asked, her voice muffled. "He's dying, Adam, what do I do?"
"I don't know," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I don't know."
"Was I really everything he told me? Was I a hero?"
"You were to me," he answered truthfully. "And he was right about one thing. You did make people want to be better. You still do." She looked up at him, tears staining her face, and tried to smile. "I'll stay and keep you company. If you'll permit it."
"Please," she whispered, reaching out to take his hand. "Please do."
A/N: Throwaway reference to Les Misérables! Also: LACEY TONIGHT!