Years past. Some more quickly than others. The children made it to New York alright, but a childhood in care could only be dodged so long. Jason had been right, a toddler roaming the streets of New York without an adult was too suspicious. When the police came to investigate, Pinocchio and Emma were quickly abandoned by their makeshift family. They were brought back into the system. Pinocchio did all he could to keep him and Emma together, but ultimately he lost the battle. When he was eighteen, he was kicked out of the foster home he and Emma had been placed in for the last few months. It wasn't great, but they'd been in a lot worse too. He begged to be allowed to take Emma with him. He would find somewhere for them to live together. Their social worker nearly laughed in his face. He was told it was a near miracle that he and Emma had been kept together so long. That there was no way they'd let an unemployed teenager with no permanent roof over his head take custody of his eleven year old sister. Pinocchio's luck had ran out.
He did his best to keep in contact with Emma. To get a few precious moments alone with her to remind her of the old stories. That's all Emma really saw them as, and deep down Pinocchio knew that. She was too young to have any proper memories of the Enchanted Forest. She was only a toddler when they left. Sometimes Pinocchio wondered if he was crazy. If he'd made it all up. The he shook himself. He had to be strong, for Emma.
He made money on the side any way he could. He never really held down a steady job, so never had a proper apartment he could rent, so Emma could never get out of care until she aged out like him. Instead, he put all his efforts into finding their families. He thought hard, getting all their stories down in one book. He thought that might help remember even the smallest detail that could locate them. He knew they had to be here somewhere, he could feel it. Unfortunately, it wasn't the only thing Pinocchio could feel. Pinocchio's quests to earn a living weren't always exactly honest. He was breaking his promise to the Blue Fairy. It just started at pins and needles at first. Just in the tips of his fingers and toes. Over time, the pain climbed into his arms and legs. He knew it wouldn't be long before he started turning back into wood.
As so much of his focus was on finding wherever the people of the Enchanted Forest were, Pinocchio was paying less attention to Emma as he should have been. Emma was sixteen. She was growing up. She was an angry young woman. She had long stopped believing in August's tales of the Enchanted Forest. That he was really Pinocchio and she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. The stories were cute, and might have eased her to sleep when she was little, but now they just annoyed her. She was too old for such nonsense. Why couldn't her brother accept the truth? Whoever their parents were simply didn't want them. Nobody had ever come looking for them. All Emma had left was her filthy old blanket with her name engraved in delicate lilac thread. Sometimes, that confused her. This blanket had obviously been made with love. How could someone who loved their child so much just give them up? Every time she saw yet another child be adopted, the pain came flooding back. Why did they never come looking for her and August? Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. They never did.
Emma dealt with her rage in unhealthy ways. She flunked out of school. She got involved with the wrong crowd. She ended up committing petty crimes for a bit of change in her pocket. What did she care what happened to her? Nobody else did. Even her brother had sauntered off. Emma knew he really needed some kind of therapy, but how could two kids from the system ever afford that? It was that petty crime that began the path that led Emma to their destiny. That's how she met Neal.
By the time August found out about Emma's so-called "boyfriend" it was already too late. He tried to convince her that he was no good. He was too old for her. But nothing he said went through to her brain. She didn't care what he thought. She had deluded herself into believing she was happy with this deadbeat. August dug into Neal Cassidy, determined to find something to put Emma off. He could have no idea he would find the unbelievable. They were not the only two people from their realm in the land without magic. Neal Cassidy was really Baelfire: the long lost song of Rumplestiltskin. Pinocchio couldn't say he blamed Baelfire for running away. He would too if that imp had been his father. Still, he was pulling Emma away from her destiny. The longer she stayed with him on the wrong path, the harder it would be to bring her back to her destiny. Neal was no good for her. He had to go. Pinocchio gathered all his evidence and brought it to Neal. Terrified at the thought of coming face to face with his father ever again, it didn't take much to convince Neal to scarper. Pinocchio knew Emma would end up in prison for a few months. It was the only way to break her heart enough that she would never go looking for Neal again. He didn't relish in the idea of sending her to jail, but needs must.
Emma of course knew her brother had something to do with Neal betraying her. He had never been a good liar. He had never liked Neal. Emma had hoped Neal might have had more of a spine though. That he would have been able to stand up to her older brother and tell him to get lost. But no, he ran at the first sign of trouble. Now Emma was all alone. She had been let down so many times in her life. She was only seventeen years old, and she had messed everything up. As far as she was concerned, August was dead to her. He was as much to blame for her being locked up as Neal was. No, both of them were useless. She couldn't trust anybody. She was better on her own. In a few months, she would be out of here. Neal had left the bug they'd…borrowed… as a parting gift, it would seem. The keys were waiting for her when she was released. That would at least give her shelter. She had been through worse. Emma saw this as a wakeup call. When she got out, she would be a new woman. She would start fresh on her own, and nobody could stop her.
Meanwhile, Pinocchio continued his quest to find where their families had landed. He still wasn't anywhere near finding them, but he at least knew where to start looking.
Emma found the new life she was looking for. She found her calling as a bail bondsperson. She made a life for herself through hard graft. She had lost contact with August after her release. She made sure nobody told her brother her release date. She refused to let him visit her. After she was gone, she made herself as untraceable as possible. She didn't want to see him. For a decade, she didn't. Emma loved her work. She loved the thrill of the chase. She found she had a particular knack for finding people. The only problem with the new life Emma had carved out for herself in Boston was that, as much as she tried to deny it to herself, she was lonely. Here she was, alone on her own twenty-eighth birthday. She had caught the creep she had been paid to apprehend, but the harsh truths he had spat at her stung hard. Still, you were only twenty-eight once, right? Emma had got a cupcake from her favourite little bakery. She lit a candle on top. Birthdays were special to her. They weren't something really celebrated in many foster homes. August always made sure to make a fuss of her, and try to get her something, but he was a kid in care himself. He could never really give her the parties and presents other children had. Emma winced. She hated thinking about her brother. It brought back too many memories. Still, it was his voice she heard in her head telling her to make a wish.
"Another banner year." She mumbled to herself quietly before blowing out the candle. Less than a second later, there was a knock at the door. Emma sighed. Probably some girl scout trying to sell her cookies. She wasn't really in the mood. Reluctantly, Emma got up to try and tell the kid as politely as possible to sod off. She opened the door and felt her heart freeze. Her eyes just about popped out of her head. Her hand tightened around the doorknob. Standing in the landing, was her brother. With a lopsided smile, he held out a card with her name on the envelope.
"Happy birthday, sis." He greeted her. "Long time, no see."
"Leave." Emma hissed. "I already told you, I never want to see you again." August's smile faltered. He had naively hoped that Emma would welcome him with open arms. That all would be forgiven. He guessed he'd been hoping for too much.
"Come on Em, that was ten years ago…"
"I don't care!" Emma shouted. "You stole my chance to live with a man I truly loved." August couldn't help but smirk.
"Come on Em. If he truly loved you, he wouldn't have been so easily frightened off. Deep down, you know that's true." Emma sighed in frustration. She couldn't really deny that.
"You still allowed me to go to prison." She pointed out. August looked Emma in the eye.
"There was no way I could avoid that, Emma." He told her. "The crime had already been committed. If I helped you run away, I would have been putting you into a life on the run. A few months inside seemed like a smaller price to pay."
"I don't really think that was your decision to make." Emma accused. "It might just have been a few months inside, but the criminal record lasts a lot longer."
"It's a juvy record, Em. We both know that thing's sealed up tight. You've done your time, now haven't I?" He pleaded with her. He held out the card slightly further. "A peace offering? Can't we just talk?" Emma was too tired to argue with him. Her brother was stubborn. He she slammed the door in his face, he would just stay there all night and give her neighbours something to gossip about. She left the door open and stormed inside. August took that as an invitation to come in. He hobbled inside, dragging his left leg behind him. He plonked himself down in the closest chair. Standing for too long was very painful these days. He was running out of time. "Look at you. All grown up now, ain't ya?"
"Suppose some things do change in ten years." Emma muttered bitterly. Emma had turned the kettle on. She knew how August liked his coffee. Although Emma wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't need something stronger. She got the drinks made and placed her brother's down in front of him. He gratefully picked it up and took a sip, allowing the hot liquid to soothe his dry throat. It was a cold night out there.
"So what do you want August?" Emma asked, getting right down to business. She knew her brother hadn't just popped by for a cosy catch up chat. "Why are you really here?"
"Can't a brother wish his little sister a happy birthday?" He asked. Emma fixed him with a disbelieving look. August laughed. "I forgot about that built in lie detector. Alright, Sherlock, at ease. You're right. There is something else I have to tell you." August put his coffee down and grinned at Emma. "Emma…I've found it." He told her. Emma looked back, confused.
"Found what, August?" He asked her.
"Found where they are, of course! I've found our families." Emma closed her eyes. Yep, she was going to need something stronger.
"Not this again." She said, exasperated. "August, this has to stop. You're going to end up in hospital. Those were stories, August. You can't possibly believe these fairy tales are true, let alone that we're characters from them?"
"What makes you so sure it's not true?" August asked her calmly. Emma rolled her eyes.
"Because magic doesn't exist, August. You're not Pinocchio. For one thing, you're not made of wood."
"That's because the Blue Fairy…"
"Yeah yeah yeah, the Blue Fairy turned you into a real boy." Emma responded. She'd heard the story a thousand times growing up. August drilled everything into her.
"Not that it will last much longer." August admitted. Emma looked at him, puzzled. "Well I haven't exactly been honest, brave and true recently, have I? And I haven't done a very good job at protecting you, like I promised I would. I am ill Emma, but not in my head like you think I am. I'm turning back into wood." Now Emma was very concerned. Her brother truly needed some serious help if he thought he was turning to wood.
"August, you're not turning to wood. You're not well…"
"Emma, I'm perfectly sane. You just can't see it because you don't believe yet." August told her. Emma bit her lip. Sure, that sounded like something a perfectly sane person would say. "Please, you have nothing to lose. I have everything. Just…come and see it. Please? Just for a few days. Think of it as a well-earned vacation. You look like you could use a holiday. A chance for us to reconnect. Please Emma? I promise, if after a couple of days you want to leave I'll never bother you again. You can spend the rest of your life hating me for being part of the reason Neal left." Emma flinched at the sound of his name being mentioned. Her blood boiled for a moment before she calmed herself down. It was clear her brother shouldn't be on his own right now. Emma had no idea if he was a danger to himself or others yet. Somehow, she would have to convince himself to get checked in at a clinic or something. He needed help. If going away for a couple of days meant he got the help he so desperately needed, she supposed that was a fair trade off.
"I'll need to pack a bag." Emma told him. August's grin returned. He knew he'd win her round. After all, this was Emma's destiny. It was always said she'd return on her twenty-eighth birthday to break the curse. He was just playing his part.
Emma came back a few minutes later with a rucksack packed for herself for a few nights. She saw August had his own bag on his lap. His storybook was peeking out of the flap at the top. She'd seen that thing hundreds of times.
"You still have that thing?" She asked, nodding to it.
"Of course. I treasure it. It's got all our history in it, Emma." He tried to remind her. Emma decided to ignore him.
"Where are we heading then?" Emma asked.
"Storybrooke, Maine." August answered. Emma's eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling.
"Seriously?" She questioned him.
"Seriously." August responded, pushing himself to his feet. "She chose the name well, didn't she? Almost poetic."
"She?" Emma asked, watching the way August dragged his foot.
"The Evil Queen, of course. She's in charge there. I didn't stay for long. Just long enough to spot a few familiar faces…including your mom."
"August." Emma warned. He knew that was a sore subject.
"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true, Em. It might have been twenty five years, but I couldn't ever forget your mother's face. Especially since it hasn't aged a day. Nobody there has. It's like they've been frozen in time." August explained. Emma didn't respond. She couldn't. "I take it you don't mind driving? I'm not sure you want to travel across states on a motorbike." August joked. Emma nodded, leading August to the bug. He was surprised.
"You still have it?" He asked.
"Could never let it go." Emma answered quietly. August didn't push it any further. Lest their road trip be cut short. August was thrilled. He had been so worried this wouldn't work. Now they really stood a chance. He knew once he got Emma into Storybrooke she wouldn't be able to leave. She would feel the same pull he did when he investigated the little town. She belonged there, these were her people. Soon, Emma would defeat the Evil Queen and break the curse.
