Underworld, a few years before the 1st dark curse
For the first month or two after the Fates' last visit, Hades stewed about the prophecy. He tried not to, of course, telling himself over and over again that the ladies were full of crap. Seriously, who had given them an advanced degree in prognostication? Even Fates can be wrong sometimes, right?
Granted, he'd never heard of a time it had happened, but there's a first time for everything. Who's to say this whole "Hades will rise up and defeat you" prophecy wouldn't be that first time?
Still, as much as he may to tell himself the ladies were pulling his leg, he couldn't quite convince himself of the fact. And so the first couple of months after their visit, Hades had been particularly on edge, jumping at shadows, expecting every day to learn some terrible thing about Hercules regaining his god status and gearing up for war.
But as the months passed with no news at all of Hercules—no feats of heroics, no communing with the gods, no plans for Underworld domination, no vows of revenge against his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad uncle, Hades finally started breathing normally again.
After all, even if the Fates were correct, he had some time, right? Five years was plenty of time to come up with a brilliant and devious plan to neutralize his nephew.
Hades gradually relaxed to the point of putting the terrible prophecy out of his head altogether, and so it was that he settled into his easy chair and put his aching feet up on his ottoman, contemplating the generous slice of devil's food cake his maid had brought him.
It had been a busy but ultimately rewarding day. About a century ago he'd gotten the bright idea to throw a "founder's day" celebration each year to celebrate the day he'd cast the curse. Nothing like a big party at the home and grounds of the "Distinguished Gentleman" to boost the morale of his slaves…er Underworld residents.
And boosting their morale had tremendous benefits for him as well. He'd tried the whole "big bad devil" routine—you know, fire, brimstone, torture, all of that, and while it did motivate people to an extent, it was exhausting. The thing about ruling with an iron fist and with fear is that you could never let up. You give people a single moment of respite, they start grumbling and stop working.
But when you manipulate people into doing your will by making them think you were the greatest thing since sliced bread, they'll be putty in your hands.
Thus the yearly "founder's day" celebration. He'd throw a fantastic shindig on his property every year—food, games, speeches about how much he appreciated all of them, the occasional big extravagant give away. (One year he gave a way a brand new car to each and every citizen of his town, and the resulting gratitude was enough to keep the whole clan working for a good six months.)
Today's celebration had been equally satisfactory, if not quite so extravagant. He'd had Pain and Panic swipe a bag of fairy dust when they were last on earth (and wonder of wonders, they'd actually succeeded with no problems whatsoever). He'd sprinkled the stuff over the whole town, creating a hazy, pleasant high. Suffice it to say, by the end of the event, everyone was feeling really, really good.
Hades took a bite of his cake and sighed in contentment. It was good; really good. He snapped his fingers, and his valet rushed to his side with an officious bow.
"How might I serve you tonight, master?"
"My dogs are barking big time tonight," Hades said, motioning to his feet. "Could use a massage."
The man bowed again, and then seated himself at Hades' feet, slipped off his shoes and began massaging. Ah, this was the afterlife! Hades finished his cake, and then settled back in his chair and closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh.
He was on the point of falling asleep, soothed by the pleasant sensation of the foot massage, when suddenly his study door burst open, and a very, well, panicked Pain and Panic burst through.
Hades yelped, startled, and his hair flared to life (causing his easy chair to temporarily go up in flames before he doused it). Hades cursed fluently as he got to his feet and glared down at his minions.
"I've had a long day and I'm tired," Hades growled once he'd exhausted his entire vocabulary of curse words—twice, "and you two knuckleheads burst in here like the town's on fire? This better be damn important or you two are going to regret it. Big time."
"Um…" Pain said, gulping audibly. "I'm pretty sure we're going to regret it anyway, but we discussed it, and ultimately decided we'd probably regret it more if we didn't tell you what we know."
"Yeah," Panic said, nodding solemnly. "I mean you're not big on nasty surprises. Not that I blame you. I mean, nasty surprises tend to freak me out too. Actually surprises in general. Why do people like to be surprised? Me? I'd much rather know what's coming so I can prepare myself. Cuts way down on the panic that way. I mean, it doesn't take it away, because, hello, the world is a panicky place, but it does help, and…"
"Tell me the damn news before I use my hair to light the two of you up like Roman candles!" Hades thundered, feeling the vain in his forehead begin to pulse.
"Well…" Pain said, cowering and taking a step or two away. "It's…it's about Hercules."
Hades felt a cold chill travel up his spine. "What about Hercules?"
"Well, you see, it's like this," Panic said cautiously. "His human dad kicked him out, so he decided to go on this big, long quest to find out who he really is."
"And?"
"And…" Pain said, "he got a tip from a certain outlaw that he might be able to find some answers in the Temple of the Gods."
The cold chill intensified. "And he took the tip?"
"Yeah," Panic said. "Went to the temple and ended up contacting…."
"Yes? Who did he end up contacting?"
Pain gulped and shied even further away. "Zeus," he said slowly.
The cold chill was now like Siberia in the dead of winter. No! This couldn't be happening. "And just why the hell would he do that?"
"Seems he recognized Zeus's lightning bolt totem. It's the birthmark on his arm you know."
Hades started pacing hoping against hope that that was the extent of the bad news. "What'd he learn."
"The inevitable," Pain said. "Zeus told him who he really is and…and…he told him about the prophecy."
Hades groaned, covering his face with his hand. "But he's still mortal right? Nothing he can do from the Enchanted Forest. We're still good?"
"Well…" Panic answered. "The thing is Zeus also told him…sort of…how to win back his god status. Told him he had to become a true hero."
"And," Pain continued, "Hercules threw himself into the task with a vengeance. Started learning how to control his super-human strength and use it to his advantage. He's making quite a name for himself up there. So far, he's saved a family from a burning building, stopped a bridge collapse, pulled a horse cart off of a man after a traffic accident, and defeated a whole family of ogres with his bare hands."
"Oh," Panic said, "and you know that ballroom collapse we've been working toward for months? The one that was going to bring us a whole influx of new drones? Yeah, he stopped that too."
This was….potentially catastrophic! How could everything be so fine and dandy for months and then suddenly go south so quickly? "At least tell me it hasn't done anything toward restoring his godhood," Hades pleaded.
"Unfortunately," Pain said, clearly reluctantly, "after the last feat of heroics, I happened to catch a glimpse of his birthmark. A good quarter of it is now glowing."
Oh this was bad. This was really, really bad. Hercules probably had no idea, but the birthmark was far, far more than a mere discoloration of his skin. It was a barometer of sorts. The more it glowed, the more infused with godhood he was. If it was now a quarter of the way filled with light…well, things were already reaching critical mass.
"We've got to stop him; got to destroy him now while he's still partially mortal," Hades said.
"How we gonna do that?" Pain asked.
"His feats of heroics might work just fine and dandy on things of earth—collapsing buildings, ogres, all that stuff, but how well do you think they'll work against a hell beast?"
"Well, I mean, he is partially a god," Panic said, "I'd say the odds are fifty-fifty."
Hades glare was nearly enough to kill.
"That's why we need to strike now, before he gains back any more of his godhood."
"So who you planning to send?" Pain asked.
"I think it's time I let Cerberus off his leash. I think good old Hercules is going to find a three-headed hell-dog more of a challenge than he can handle."
Underworld, present day
Robin glanced surreptitiously at the woman standing beside him. They'd been searching for a couple of hours now, and to date had found nothing of note. As they continued on their way, Regina had become more and more withdrawn.
He knew this mood of hers. She was distressed, almost defeated. He longed to do something, anything to soothe her, restore her hope, but he hadn't a clue what to do.
They'd approached the mayor's mansion first—taking care to remain hidden until they were sure they were alone on the grounds. It was strange—seeing Regina's house, his house for the past month or so, looking so familiar and yet so different.
He couldn't put his finger on exactly what was wrong; nothing seemed particularly changed or out of place. All he could say is that the place gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, rather like a nightmare where things are only slightly distorted.
They'd searched the house quickly, looking for anything that would give them information on Cora's plans and activities.
They'd come up empty.
Perhaps they would have had more success with a more detailed search—rifling through drawers, perusing ledgers and other documents—but neither felt comfortable spending so much time in the such a dangerous place. There was no way of knowing when Madam Mayor herself might return and if they were caught…well, the consequences could be rather ghastly.
They'd gone from the mayor's mansion to the even more dangerous mayor's office in town hall. The act, had, of necessity brought them in contact with various and sundry town folk, and as they walked, Regina became more and more morose; more and more tense.
"My love," Robin had finally said in a low voice, "you've no need to fear. I know you feel exposed, devoid as you are of your magic, but I'm more than capable of protecting us should the need arise."
She'd given him a blank stare, and then her face had softened. She'd reached up and given him a quick peck on the lips. "Thanks," she said, "but I'm not concerned. None of the people of the town seem to be giving us a second glance. Assuming we don't come in contact with my mother herself, we should be perfectly safe."
She'd turned back to the task at hand, then—eyeing town hall critically to determine their best course of action—and he'd frowned slightly. If she wasn't concerned for their safety, what was bothering her? He knew her well enough to know something was.
But he had no time to mull over the topic at the time, as Regina had determined the side entrance provided the greatest likelihood they could approach the mayor's office undetected. He'd followed her, his hand ready at any moment to reach for his bow should it be necessary, but once again, they need not have worried. They met with no resistance and no Cora.
And, for that matter, no useful information. Regina had cursed fluently as soon as they'd regained the woods after their latest failed venture.
"She has nothing useful at her house, nothing useful at her office. What do we do now?" Regina had asked irritably, pacing back and forth, arms crossed, and eyes flashing.
Robin had thought for a moment or two and then offered his own suggestion. "We know that Cora is wed to Hades," Robin said, "and I don't know why it didn't occur to me before, but her house—the Underworld's version of our house—appeared particularly empty, as though it hadn't been lived in for quite some time."
Regina shot him a puzzled look. "You think so? There was no dust, no cobwebs, no indications that I could see that spoke of disuse."
"True enough," Robin agreed, "but there were also no personal touches. No dirty glasses sitting by the sink, no book on the bedside table, no mail on the kitchen table—if even such a thing as the postal service exists within hell—no fruit within the hanging fruit basket. Nothing, in short, to indicate someone is living within the house's four walls."
"That's true," Regina agreed with a nod. "So, what do you think that tells us?"
"I'd wager your mother is living with her new husband."
"My new step-father—the devil," Regina said dryly under her breath. "I think you might be on to something. How about we go check out Hades' place. Didn't we hear he lives in the Underbrooke version of the sorcerer's mansion?"
"Aye," Robin said, "I believe so."
And so they'd made their way here, to the magnificent grounds of the sorcerer's mansion. Whatever Hades' views on the beautification of the town itself, he certainly had standards for his own domicile. Intricate gardens appeared to be cultivated within an inch of their lives. The lawn was lush and green, the grass cut to the perfect length. Beds of flowers surrounded the house itself, and the lake beyond fairly sparkled. It apparently paid well to be the lord of the dead.
Robin looked carefully from side to side, determined there was no one around, and took a quick step forward.
A moment later he was sprawled upon his back, having been violently thrust aside by some sort of invisible force field.
"Robin!" Regina said quickly, rushing to his side.
He groaned, sitting up and grimacing as he put his hand to his aching head—and felt the wet, sticky sensation of blood from the place his head struck a small stone.
Regina made a distressed sound and waved her hand over his head, growling in evident annoyance when she remembered she was no longer in possession of her magic and was no longer capable of quickly healing wounds.
"It's no matter, my love," he said quickly, taking her hand in his own, "it's naught but a scratch."
She looked unconvinced for a moment, but he was careful to not so much as wince as he got to his feet, and the action seemed to put her mind at ease.
"What was that?" Robin asked, eyeing the invisible barrier with more than a hint of suspicion.
"Protection spell, I'd guess," Regina answered, stepping forward—far more cautiously than Robin had. She extended her hand, and he watched as it bounced away. "A rather simple one, by the feel of it. If I had my magic I could take it down with the snap of my fingers, but as it is…well, I'd say we can't move any closer to the mansion than we are now."
"So how should we proceed?"
"I guess our best bet is to what Miss Swan would call a stake out," Regina answered. "We wait here, keep watch, and see if anything happens that might be useful."
Robin nodded. "Perhaps we could make ourselves comfortable here in this stand of trees as we wait?"
She shrugged. "I don't know why not."
They sat in silence for several minutes, both looking toward the house, both willing something to happen to give them a break in the current stalemate. But the minutes continued and they saw nothing more interesting than a small rabbit rushing across the yard in the direction of the vegetable garden.
Robin noticed once again just how tense Regina was. He reached out, laid his hand gently on her arm. She jumped, taking in a quick, surprised breath and turning startled eyes his direction.
"My apologies," he said quickly, "I didn't mean to startle you.
She put a hand to her chest, and then closed her eyes, visibly trying to calm herself. "It's okay. I guess I'm just a little jumpy."
He looked at her for another moment before deciding to address his concerns. "Is there something wrong, Regina," he asked. "You seem particularly distressed this afternoon."
She shrugged, turning aside and looking back toward the mansion. "Not really surprising, is it? We are, after all in hell. Kind of a distressing place."
"That's true enough," he answered, "but your distress seems greater now than it's been at any point in our adventure. Has something additional happened to upset you?"
She gave him a pained look before taking his hand and moving closer to him. He laced their fingers and squeezed gently, hoping to give her strength and comfort.
"It's just…" Regina said. "Those children we saw on the way over here. I wondered…Robin do you think we did the right thing leaving Roland and the baby behind like we did?"
"I hardly think hell is an appropriate place for a family vacation, my love," he said.
"That's not what I meant," Regina said with a shake of her head. "I meant, did we make the right choice coming down here at all. After all Zelena's done lately…and then all the mess with Miss Swan and then Hook becoming Dark Ones, I can't help but be concerned about our kids left at home without us to protect them."
Robin smiled, his heart warming at her use of the word "our" with regard to his son and daughter. "I owe Emma Swan my life," Robin said simply, "and Killian has become quite a friend. I'm not sure how we could do other than what we've done."
Regina sighed. "I know," she said. "And, as annoying as the one-handed wonder can be at times, if the truth be told, if he was gone for good, I'd feel his absence. I just wish being a hero, trying to save our friends, didn't require us to leave our children behind."
Robin took her into his arms and held her close, rubbing a hand over her back comfortingly. "I am uneasy leaving them behind as well, but there's naught we can do about it. Besides, I have complete confidence in Mother Superior and the others in town who will keep our little ones safe."
She let him hold her for another moment, and then sat back, looking marginally less concerned. But there were still shadows in her eyes.
"Is there something else the matter?" he prompted.
She sighed deeply. "The people we saw in town?" Regina said, looking up at him. "Yes, the children made me think of Roland and the baby, but there was more than that."
"What about the town's folk troubled you?"
"I…recognized many of them," Regina said. "Many of them were my victims back when I was hell bent on my revenge against Snow White. Robin…some of the things I did while I was the Evil Queen…"
He stopped her with a slash of his hand. "We've discussed this," he said gently. "That woman, the one who did terrible things? That's not you any longer. You've changed; you've become a true hero."
Regina smiled gratefully at him. "I want to believe that's true," she said, and then she turned aside again, "and most of the time I do believe it, but the thing is, coming down here, seeing my victims, knowing that what I did to them sent them down here to this Purgatory that they'll never be free of….it really hits home the extent of my villainy, the way my actions affected others."
Robin was silent for several moments, knowing how important her pain was, wanting to avoid a glib response that wouldn't give it its due. Finally he spoke. "I'm well aware of the pain of regrets, of remorse. I've done my share of things I wish I could change, things that have hurt others."
She scoffed. "I'm sure the bad things you've done are not even in the same league as mine. Compared to me you're a boy scout."
"Perhaps," Robin acknowledged, "but remorse, repentance is similar no matter the offense. It's tempting to wallow in the self-loathing, seeing the distress you've caused others, but you mustn't give in. You must resist it."
"How does a person go about that?"
"By living in the present," Robin said. "There's naught you can do to change the past. All you can do is change your life moving forward, attempt to make amends to the best of your abilities."
"But how can I do that?" she asked with a frustrated motion of her hand. "These people? My greatest victims? They're stuck here, trapped. They don't even know who they are. I have no way to make amends to them—they don't even know I wronged them."
"All the more reason to succeed in our endeavors, is it not?" Robin asked. "Should we be successful in not only saving Killian, but also in helping Hercules with his task, perhaps you'll get the chance to offer apologies to your former victims."
Regina laughed self-deprecatingly. "I'm sure an apology will make everything better," she said sarcastically.
"Perhaps not," Robin agreed, "but if Hades' hold over this place is broken, perhaps your apology, your attempt to make amends will be just what is needed to send these wounded souls on to their eternal reward."
He saw the hope shine from her eyes, the dawning belief that perhaps there was redemption, real and complete redemption, to be found for the former Evil Queen. She opened her mouth to respond, but then quickly jerked her head in the direction of the mansion.
Robin followed her line of sight, curious what she'd seen, and he watched as the ponderous front door opened and a short, balding man stepped outside. Regina gasped. "Father!" she breathed.
A moment later the man was followed by a woman who must be Cora and…Mr. Gold.
"Son of a bitch!" Regina bit out.
It took no great wit to see that Cora and Gold were on rather friendly terms. They smiled as they talked, and after a few moments, shook hands. Gold turned away and started down the porch steps, a satisfied smirk on his face.
Robin felt the anger rise up. "Emma was right," he said in a hard voice. "Rumplestiltskin is most assuredly not to be trusted."
"That scaly golden imp is never to be trusted," Regina said bitterly, "but I had no idea he'd go this far. Actually working with our enemies! What the hell is he getting out of it, and what does that mean for us?"
"Nothing good I'd wager," Robin said.
"Well, this is just great," Regina spat. "Wonderful! Now I'd say none of us are safe. If Rumple's all buddy-buddy with my mother and Hades who knows what he's told them about us and our mission and our base of operations and…everything."
"So what do we do now?" Robin asked.
"We find the others; warn them what we know, then we look for a new home base," Regina said. "Let's just hope to hell Miss Swan's having success winning Killian's love and reminding him who he is, because I have a terrible feeling time's running out for us."
Notes:
-So in the past, Hercules is making progress toward heroism, and in the present, Regina and Robin have learned just exactly how much Rumple's betraying them. Let's just hope forewarned is forearmed!
-One thing I like about the way it looks like actual canon will go in 5b is that various characters will really get a chance to confront their pasts and really move on from them. There's not really time/space to get into a lot of that in this particular fic, but I did want to give Regina a bit of self-awareness and understanding of the consequences of her actions (which, I think she has to some extent in canon, but I don't think she's quite there yet—getting much closer, but not quite there.) Maybe Robin's right. Maybe she'll be able to make amends by helping some of her victims to move on.
-Up next: Back in time, Hades sends Cerberus after Hercules. It doesn't work exactly as Hades hoped. In the present, we head back to the house by the sea and see how Emma's faring when it comes to caring for a very sick Killian—as well as when it comes to winning his heart.