Disclaimer: I own nothing.
––
Many years ago in a land not entirely unlike the Enchanted Forest, a town that was solely dedicated to celebrating Halloween rested in thick fog and betrayal. Oogie Boogie had overcome his fear and once more tried to take over Halloween Town, once more tried to resurrect his holiday, his beloved Bug Day, having honed his skills over the many years. He was going to be important. He was going to be celebrated.
However his plans and his powers simply weren't enough. Jack Skellington once again overwhelmed him, once again Jack Skellington had the upper hand. And this time it wasn't Oogie who paid the price. He had a secret that nobody knew. A secret that he had to keep hidden from even himself, he'd forced himself forget, made that secret nothing more than a dream that would eventually fade into the darkness of his mind. Oogie Boogie was not the only Boogie out there. He had a sister, one that Jack Skellington had gotten his hands on. Hands that were annoyed at Oogie, hands that had had enough of Oogie, hands that were now covered with the blood of Oogie's sister.
And they would have been covered with Oogie Boogie's blood as well, but he had managed to escape. Weakened. Broken. Filled to the brim with a boiling—burning—red hot need for revenge with whatever else was left of him. What Jack Skellington had done not only changed Jack but Oogie. It had changed how he viewed Jack and how Oogie would plan from now on. It would seem he and Jack had quite a bit in common, and it was time to play. There would be no holding back. There would be no mercy.
– – –
Serah woke up to light shining on her face, birds loudly chirping, and she looked over, seeing her mom asleep beside her. She exhaled and pushed herself up, feeling a bit lightheaded. She tossed the blankets back and slipped out of bed, heading for the bathroom. She needed to wash up. They had a meeting at some point. She could remember her mom talking about it, but it was all hazy. She slept so hard. Mmm, that bed was really comfortable. She just wanted to crawl back under the covers and sleep forever. Maybe she would one day, but only for a few more hours, not forever.
She washed and dried her face, still a bit weary. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, slapping her cheeks trying to wake up as she made her way back to her mom's room to wake her up. She could remember this when she was a young girl, and she ran to her mom's room, the cement floor of the vault cold on her bare feet. She had braids then, braids braided by Maleficent who had done the same with Serah and sometimes Henry when his hair got too long and he slept like a bear. She'd slip into his room and braid all of his hair then slip back out before he woke up. He never noticed in the morning, and it always made them laugh. That's probably why Mal did it, for a laugh. It always made the mornings brighter.
She could remember the cold. Her thin nightgown, which had sheep and clouds sewn on by Mary Margaret, did nothing to keep her warm, just clothed. She was very excited about something, but she couldn't remember what. She was just running, and it was so frigid, but she was so happy that it didn't even matter to her.
She pushed the door to her mother's room open with a grunt as it was heavy and she wasn't strong. Entering, she found her mother wide awake on her bed, shaking, her long hair sticking to the sweat on her brow, and Emma was holding her, soothing her. Her deep brown eyes were round and dark, they appeared to be black as coal, and they were filled with such terror. She just watched from the doorway, completely unnoticed by them, and her excitement, her rare happiness, died. It sank deep inside of her as she observed her mother, whose was always strong, always composed, shudder and struggle to breathe. She didn't understand what she was seeing, so she could only watch.
Emma saw her standing there and shouted for her mother, and Mary Margaret came running. She picked her up and carried her out of the room, rubbing her back as if she should feel sad or scared. She didn't feel either, just shock . How could someone like her mother...break?
Mary Margaret set her down in her bedroom and smiled at her, "Hey, honey. What woke you up? It's late."
She shrugged. She didn't remember, and all she could think about was her mom. She wanted to be with her mom. She wanted to be with Emma soothing her mom. She didn't want her to be sad. She didn't want her to have nightmares. She wanted her to be happy, as happy as she was when she ran to her room. Was she ever happy?
"Why don't I get you some warm milk? We can spare a bit. Would you like that?"
"I guess."
"Wait here." She left the room to get her some warm milk.
She slid back on her bed and pulled the blanket over her cold feet, one braid falling over her shoulder. She exhaled and lied down. She couldn't tell time. Belle was going to teach her next week, so she didn't know what time it was. It was too dark to see what the clock read anyway.
"Hey." It was Emma this time. "What's up?"
"Uh-uh."
Emma chuckled. "That is not an answer." She climbed into the bed with her and and wrapped an arm around her. "Tell me what's going on inside your head."
"I'm confused."
"About?"
"What was going on with Mom?"
"She's been having nightmares for a while now." Emma rubbed her thumb along the young girl's shoulder, like she used to when she was a baby. "They've gotten worse, and tonight..." She didn't finish.
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"She didn't want you to worry. She wanted to keep you and Henry out of it. We both wanted to you two out of this, but I guess this couldn't be avoided." She rested her head on the pillow. "Ever since your dad passed, Regina has faced horrible nightmares. She hasn't slept through the night in a long time, so I gave her something to help her sleep. You saw the result."
"What kind of nightmares?"
"Dark stuff, like spiders and worms." Emma began to tickle her. "And rats."
"Stop!" She giggled and tried to get away.
"Can't forget beetles."
She squealed and tried to wriggle away, the blankets now kicked to the bottom of the bed, the pillow pushed off, and Emma was laughing. She was going to keep her out of this. She had been through so much at such a young age, and Emma wouldn't put her through anything else. She was a kid, and she needed to do things that kids do. She needed to laugh and play like kids do. She needed a childhood Emma and Regina never got; and no matter how shitty the world was, Emma was going to do her best to ensure she would have just a small chuck of a normal childhood.
"Well, I guess I should have made two cups." Mary Margaret smirked at her daughter. "She's supposed to be sleeping."
"She is." Emma looked very serious. "Aren't you? You're exhausted."
"Very." She nodded, yawning for effect.
"Yeah, I might believe that if you both were such crappy lairs." She bent down. "Here, drink this. I added some cinnamon for flavor."
"Thanks." She sat up. "I'll go back to bed when this is gone, okay?"
"Okay." She brushed messy hair out of the young girl's face. "Get some sleep." She lifted her eyes to her daughter. "I'll check on Regina."
"Okay. I'll—I'll stay with her tonight." Emma picked up the pillow. "Thanks, Mom."
She nodded. "Sleep, both of you."
"We will." Emma accepted the cup from her mom and cooled it off with magic so it wouldn't burn her lips or tongue. "All right, kiddo, drink up."
"Good night." Mary Margaret opened the door and glanced back, smiling at the children in the bed. Emma would always be a child to her, even if she was about to become a mother again.
Emma removed the braids from her hair as she drank the milk, brushing out the curls left behind, and once the milk was gone, she placed the cup on the nightstand. She curled up with the young girl whose eyelids kept dropping lower and lower, and she fell asleep all at once, warm and safe in the arms of someone who loved her. Emma knew Regina wanted to be here, but Regina wasn't stable enough right now, and her magic wasn't stable either. When Emma went to wake her, Regina burned Emma's forearm. They both knew she might do the same—or worse—to her, so Emma came and Regina was trying to calm with the storm inside of her that was seeping out the help of Mal and Snow. Maybe next time.
She ran her hand over her face and pushed the door open to her mom's room, lowering her hand to find a man in the window. "What the hell?" She stood still. "Who are you?"
He just looked at her. "So it's you then."
"Yes, it's me. Now the hell are you?" She grabbed the switchblade from her boot and grabbed him, slamming him against the wall, her arm digging into his collarbone. "I don't play around, so answer me."
"Serah," Regina called from downstairs.
She stared at the man she had pinned, taking in his features, and she stepped back, recognizing him. "You're one of his men. You're one of the trio."
"I am. Barrel." He tilted his head, running his eyes over her, studying her too.
"The screw up." She tightened her grip on her blade. "I remember you. You tried to kill me when I was twelve."
"You were in the way of a very important mission, but it's a good thing I didn't."
"And what does that mean?"
He smiled. "You've grown up well."
"Yeah, so has my right arm." She threw the knife at him, but he vanished into thin air and the knife landed in the wall. She groaned and ran a hand through her hair. She hated digging knives out of walls, but her blade was sharp, so it would be brief task. She just had to explain to her mom why there was a hole in her wall.
She grabbed her knife and padded down the stairs. "Sorry, I—I had a...rogue knife."
"Rogue knife?"
"Yeah, I kinda...threw it at your wall." She winced, preparing herself for her mom to yell. "I'm so sorry. It left a hole."
She inhaled and held it for a moment then shook her head. "It's...fine. We have to go meet the others at the library. Why don't you shower and just grab something of mine to wear? I'll get breakfast and swing back to pick you and Henry up."
"Great. I'll be as quick as I can."
"Take your time. Granny's not known for speed." She smiled. "Wake Henry for me."
She nodded. "Okay."
"I'll be back in about twenty minutes." She adjusted her watch and walked toward the door. "Don't have anymore rogue knife moments, all right?"
"Cross my heart." She watched her mom leave then turned and marched up the stairs, making as much noise as possible, because waking Henry was like waking a corpse. That probably didn't change. "Henry!" She opened his door, and he groaned. "Wake up."
"Uhh."
"Henry Daniel Mills." She flicked the light on and plopped down on his bed. "It's time to get up. We have a meeting."
"I'll get up then." He pulled the covers over his head.
"It's at the library, and we have twenty minutes, so up." She shook him and yanked on the covers. "C'mon."
"Fine, fine." He rolled over. "I'm up."
"You'd better stay up. Mom's coming back in a few minutes, and I'm taking a shower, so if I have to wake you up again, you'll regret it."
"Yeah, okay." He rubbed his eyes. "You look happy."
"Hmm?" She smiled a bit. "I—I guess I am."
"I'm glad...sis."
She made a face. "Don't ever call me sis."
"Yeah, it felt weird. I just wanted to try it out."
"We don't do the bro/sis thing. We just..." Train? Kill enemies together? Bond over stitching each other up when Marian was too busy with a worse injury? She couldn't tell him that, so it was either lie to him or make something up. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter since I won't remember what we called each other next time, so just make something up for me. No bro/sis, all right?"
"All right." He yawned.
"Seriously."
"I promise."
"Good." She rose off the bed, pausing at the feel of the knife in her boot. Barrel came here today with intentions unknown to her. He may return again. He may come for Henry, for Mom, but Mom could protect herself with magic whereas Henry couldn't. Henry has no powers, has no sword abilities in this time. He told her to keep a knife on her before she left, so it was time to repay the favor. She dug the knife out of her boot. "Hey, do me a favor."
"I'll get up."
"No, I want you to carry this. At all times." She tossed the knife at him. "Just in case."
"In case of what?" He was wide awake, holding the switch blade in his hand.
"In case they—uh, anyone comes for you. We don't know what will happen next—we haven't known this entire damn time—so keep that on you. I don't want you getting hurt."
"What about you? You don't have magic."
"I'll grab something from Gold's shop. I doubt Belle will mind. A blade's a blade, and I'll be polite when I ask." She shrugged and strolled to the bathroom. She actually had another in her left boot. She took Henry's words to heart. He was never wrong when it came to protection, so why would he be wrong about carrying a weapon at all times? As if he...knew she wouldn't have magic. How in the hell would he have known that? She trained to conserve energy, so if she caught in a hard place, she would have enough power to stop them. Or to flee. Henry knew that, so why take a knife? Did he know about the trio following her? Did he know? Did they know?
She looked at her reflection, seeing all of her family in herself, and she felt lost. Did they lie to her? Did they know more than they told her? If they knew Regina and Belle and Emma of the past would have to bind her magic, because the mark would spread and she would lose control of herself, why didn't they tell her? What more were they hiding?
– – –
After years of planning and studying, Oogie was ready to avenge his fallen sister. He had a flawless plan to kill Jack and hang him up with the rest of the skeletons in his chamber. He was tired of waiting and now was the best moment to strike. Everything had fallen perfectly into place. It was time.
With the help of the Mad Hatter, Rumpelstiltskin was able to reach Halloween Town for a specific ingredient. He needed it for a poison, one that would help him get a step closer to his ultimate goal. He didn't want to stay in this town any longer than he had to. Time was different here, and while he had a lot of time on his rather talented hands, he couldn't afford to waste time. Not for this poison.
Nevertheless, as Rumpelstiltskin knew, everyone wanted something. As for the men he encountered in that land, a Jack Skellington and a Dr. Finklestein as it were, wanted him to take care of what they called Oogie Boogie. He didn't want to dirty his hands, and he didn't want to waste time, so he simply used the Sorcerer's Hat to take care of him. Both parties were satisfied by this, and he left with what he needed.
– – –
Serah sat in between where her mother stood and where Henry shifted his weight back and forth, just listening to the tones, not the words, and she kept thinking about the knife that was digging into her calf. She couldn't focus. She couldn't believe she had been lied to by her family. She couldn't believe this was happening. The world seemed so gray, and she felt sick, dizzy. She couldn't—wouldn't wrap her mind around the possibility her family may have held back integral information from her. They sent her here. They sent her to this time knowing what a risk she would be. What the fu—?
"Serah?" Regina was worried. She had said her name several times, but only now did it seem to register in her eyes that she could hear them. What was she thinking about so deeply? "Are you all right?"
"Sure. What is it?"
"Do you know how Oogie got into our town?" Belle repeated the question. "From what you remember, do you recall how that happened? Or maybe you overheard—"
"He came from a hat," she interrupted Belle. "I don't know what hat since the only hat I know about was the Sorting Hat, so you're on your own in the hat hunt."
"A hat?" Henry looked at his moms then his sister. "Like the Sorcerer's Hat or the Mad Hatter's Hat?"
"I just said I don't know which hat." She tried not to sound so curt. She wasn't mad at him. "Sorry, I just know it's a hat." She looked at Belle. "Why don't you just look it up? I'm sure there's an answer in there."
"Well, I was asking you."
"Well, I'll just ask you since you have the journal and all. Why didn't they tell me they knew exactly what would happen to me here?" she demanded.
"What do you mean?" Belle exchanged glances with both Emma and Regina.
"You know, tell me my fortune, read me some signs!" She rose so abruptly her chair fell back, the chatter echoing in the room as they all stared at her, startle. "Just... just give me the journal."
"I don't think that's a good idea." Belle rose as well. "We can talk about what's in it—"
"No, you'll just lie and make up what I want to hear! Give me the damn book!"
"Serah, enough." Regina gripped her wrist lightly and pulled her toward the stacks, setting her hands on her shoulders. "Calm down. What's wrong? What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about! You know, and she knows, so why I can't know? Why can't I ever know what the hell is going on?!" She could feel her breaths leaving in a harsh, curt manner as the world around her started to piss her off, and she stared at her mom, wanting answers. She was tired of being babied. She could handle the truth. They couldn't. They never could. "Tell me!"
"Serah, there's nothing to tell. The book just tells us bits and pieces of—"
"Then let me read it! What's the worst thing that can happen?"
"We—we can't let you."
"Why not?"
"In her writing, Belle told us to not let you read the book, to keep you from it, because there was a lot you don't know. We can talk about it, but we believe it's best you don't read it directly." Regina peered back as Emma approached them.
"We'll tell you all about it, kid." She smiled a little. "You have my word."
Serah knocked her mom's hands off her shoulders. "We. We. We! I'm never apart of that we. I'm just a tool to be used and discarded—we know that, don't we?" She scoffed. "Fine, I'll do this myself." She used a little of the magic in the swan necklace to call the book to her. "Don't follow me!" She disappeared into smoke.
"What the hell?!" Emma jolted slightly.
"I thought her magic was bound," Mary Margaret said, a scoff in her tone. "What was that?"
"We thought we did. Either she lied about it working, or..." Her eyes travelled to Belle, who was gaping at them like the rest of them. "Or there's something we don't know."
"We happen to not know a lot." Charming crossed his arms. "We'll worry about this later. Where we would she go?"
"How should I know?" Regina was trying to figure out how in the hell that just happened. "She clearly is keeping secrets."
"Well, there's only one real way to find the lass: look for her." Killian pushed off the back wall. "Emma and I will take the woods."
"David and I will search the town," Mary Margaret offered. "Belle, could you watch Neal? I told Granny we'd be back in an hour."
"Yeah, that's fine." Belle nodded.
"I'll check the vault." Henry met his mom's eyes. "We can check it together."
"Yeah." Regina rubbed her arms. "Let's go. The sooner we find her the better." Regina was struck with an overwhelming wave of déjà vu. How long did they have Serah on their side before she poofed out?
– – –
Serah fell to her knees deep in the woods, panting and gripping her shoulder, the book below her. She didn't have enough magic to both bring the book to her and teleport here. She had a rough landing. Son of a bitch. Blood seeped through her fingers and dripped onto the leather of the book, she groaned and sat back, her hair sticking to her lips. She applied more pressure to the wound on her shoulder and grabbed the book with her free hand, pulling in her knees and resting it there.
Flipping her hair so it was out of her face, she opened the journal and began to read over it, working her jacket off to tend to the gash on her shoulder at the same time. She had mastered the art of multitasking when she was ten, so it wasn't a challenging task. She had a salve that Marian had made her, and she kept that too in her boot. It would stop the bleeding, and she could get on with reading this. She would know what they were hiding. She had to know.
––
Barrel sat opposite to Serah, hidden in the shadows of the tree they shared, and he listened to the pages rustle in the breeze, her adorable short, pained gasps. He reached over and his fingertips found the cold blood that had dripped from her shoulder. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling the blood of his master slowly sliding down his fingers and slipping under his nails. He closed his eyes and listened as she read, and he smiled, summoning bathtub to him.
And now I have you, he smirked.
