Early Saturday morning, so early his mother was still asleep, and dawn had not yet broken the dark sky, Damon Mills was awake and padding silently down the staircase, Vans sneakers in one hand, cell phone in the other. He unlocked the front door without a sound and eased it shut behind him. Once successfully outside on the porch, without waking his mother or his brothers, he breathed a sigh of relief and quickly put his shoes on.
His breath was visible in the cold air, and their entire lawn was covered in a fresh layer of snow, it glowed ethereally in the darkness, making it quite easy to see despite the sun not being up yet. Damon wore Vans, tight black jeans, a grey hoodie, a black puffer vest, black woollen fingerless gloves, and a red woollen beanie. He pulled his hood over his beanie and put in his earphones.
On his phone he set his favourite playlist to shuffle, stuck his phone in his vest pocket and briefly touched his jeans pocket, confirming he had the little bag he retrieved from its hiding place under his bed. He walked down the path, the snow crunching under his feet as the first notes of ACDC's Thunderstruck began pounding in his ears.
He walked several blocks through Storybrooks suburbs, soon leaving the wealthy neighbourhood where he lived behind and entering the quaint middle class area. His face hurt badly, especially in the cold air, and despite his best efforts, his kept watering at the pain.
It was weird, having so much of your face swollen. He couldn't touch it, and properly gage the swelling, it was much too sore for that, but his face felt so much bigger than it usually did. And he looked horrific. His mom had been horrified, and especially as he looked at it that morning, he understood her freaking out.
And, he desperately wanted her help with this situation he found himself stuck in, but he had promised silence, and silent he would stay.
Another half hour passed and Damon had crossed over the railway line, and entered Storybrooke's 'ghetto'.
As far as ghettos go, it was pretty rough. The current mayor of Storybrooke, Albert Spencer, was a cruel and cunning figure, and he gave no shits about the poorer residents of his town. Both of Damon's moms had backed contenders against Spencer for every election he could remember, so he was quite well read up on the situation.
Damon arrived outside a rambling apartment building, one that was so disfigured, broken and vandalized that it looked like it should have been torn down decades before now.
He walked around the outside, careful not to disturb the sleeping homeless man on the front step, until he was standing below Ruby's window.
She was three story's up and her bedroom was on the outer wall, which was helpful for sneaking past her over-protective grandmother.
Damon text her to let her know he was there and turned his music off. He was rolling up his earphones and zipping them into a vest pocket when Ruby appeared at the window.
Quietly, she lifted the window up, and climbed onto the narrow ledge. She had to crouch, because she was so tall, but it was her long limbs that made her escape route possible. Damon watched with his usual mix of fear and awe as the gorgeous girl folded herself out the window, and extended one shapely leg until her foot, clad in a black thigh-high stiletto boot, found a well-worn groove in the brick chimney that went from the base of the house to the roof.
She pushed herself up and transferred her whole body to the chimney, using broken bricks as foot and hand holds, her route a well-practiced one. She reached back and closed the window, and then, deftly shimmied down the chimney until she was close enough to the ground to jump down.
She handed in her stiletto boots in the snow with ease and picked her way over to Damon.
"You enjoy the view?" She asked breathlessly as she pulled him into a hug.
"Always." Damon retorted, hugging her voluptuous frame to him tightly.
"You look terrible." She observed bluntly as they let go and walked back onto the street.
"Yup. And it feels worse than it looks." Damon confirmed, cracking a pretty hideous smile.
"Aw, you were so cool though. Those guys look way worse than you." Ruby reassured him, skipping ahead and turning back to flash him one her stunning smiles.
Her long brown hair was in its usual bed-head waves, the red streaks running through it added to her signature chaos. Her face was angular, with high cheek bones, a chiselled jaw, huge green eyes, thick eyebrows and big, pouty lips. She accentuated her features with heavy black eyeliner, black shadow and blood red lipstick, which was a dramatic look against her naturally pale skin.
She was tall, almost as tall as Damon, taller when she wore heels, which was always, and she was lean and toned. She was thin yes, but had undeniably luscious feminine curves, which included ample cleavage and an enviable ass.
She was dressed in the most clothes Damon had ever seen her in, the freezing temperatures forcing even Ruby to be mostly sensible. In addition to her thigh high black stiletto boots, she was wearing tight black vinyl pants, a red puffer jacket, which had a fur lined hood, a black scarf, and black fingerless leather gloves.
Her nails were painted scarlet red and she was wearing huge gold hoop earrings, along with her other piercings that included a small gold hoop through the left side of her nose, and several little golden star studs in various places on her ears. She also had a silver barbell through each of her nipples, but those weren't on display today.
She had no problem keeping up with Damon in her heels, in fact she often walked ahead of him, well used to treks in such footwear. She wasn't one to sacrifice fashion for practicality. They walked until they reached the very edge of town. They were in the industrial area, which was oddly quiet, since it was too early for work to begin.
Ahead of them was the Toll bridge, which was the only road across the raging, freezing river below. The road led into the thick forestry that surrounded Storybrooke, and just became a hunting trail after a few miles.
However, about a mile into the forest there was an old playground, abandoned now, and grown over, basically just a part of the forest, and no one ever went there.
That was their destination.
Damon and Ruby hung back, hiding behind an old shipping container while they checked to see if anyone was around. Ever since their arrest, most nights a police officer was stationed by the bridge, sitting in a cop car, just waiting to catch them holding again.
Today, as they had hoped, the coast was clear. Silently Ruby and Damon fist bumped each other, pleased with the ingenious idea to go in the morning.
Keeping low, they followed the road to the bridge, warily looking around the whole time they were crossing, until they successfully reached the other side.
The forest was so thick there was little snow to contend with, and they reached the old playground successfully. In the middle was a huge tree, and nestled amongst its strong branches was a tree house. Once that was truly too epic to have just been left behind, but alas time is cruel. It was Ruby who had initially found it, and eventually shared its location with her friends, and it had become theirs.
It was aged, but not altogether too weather beaten, and very sturdy. Damon and Ruby climbed up the wooden ladder nailed to the tree, careful to avoid the rotting sections, and pulled themselves, one after the other, up through the hatch, and into their treehouse.
Waiting inside for them was the third member of their group, Mulan, who was sprawled on a blanket, a heavy backpack beside her, and her right arm in full cast and sling across her chest.
"Guys, it's almost dawn, I was worried you'd been caught." She greeted them as she sat up, wincing as she moved her arm.
"This guy only just arrived at mine." Ruby passed the blame with ease, sitting herself down beside Mulan and grabbing her backpack.
"This guy had to walk several miles further than either of you." Damon reminded them a little snappily as he sat down beside Ruby.
They eased into good natured ribbing after that, followed by Mulan expressing her regret at Damon's injuries, and Damon telling her she must never be sorry. Both he and Ruby asked about her arm, which she confirmed was broken, technically a broken wrist, which was thankfully a clean break.
Mulan had very long black hair, it was shiny, full, and as per usual pulled back in a braid. Her almond shaped eyes were framed by thick lashes and angled eyebrows. She had high cheeks bones, a heart shaped face and a small rosebud shaped mouth. Her skin was a delicate, pale brown, and she had a few freckles. She had delicate features, and was small, thin and strong. She had an athletic build, which included a pretty flat chest, and narrow hips. She wore mascara and a little black eyeliner but otherwise no makeup.
Mulan often dressed similarly to Damon, and today was no exception. She was wearing blue jeans, Converse, a green hoodie, a black puffer jacket and a snapback hat under both her hoodie and the fur lined hood of her jacket.
They stored blankets and cushions in a wooden box in the tree house, and the three of them piled them on to battle the cold. Mulan had brought snacks and water in her backpack, and Damon produced a bag of marijuana from his jeans pocket. Ruby set about cutting the dried green buds and rolling them into rice paper, her expertise in this field unrivalled.
She'd also nicked a plastic vial of her grandmother's anxiety pills. Each of the teenagers swallowed a handful, eager for the chilled out high Ruby promised they'd give.
Mulan plugged her phone into the mini speaker she took everywhere and filled their tree house with current hits. Soon the three of them were huddled close together with their blankets, under a haze of smoke as they passed a blunt around and belted out the lyrics to their favourite songs.
The dawn of the day shone through the thick foliage of the forest, sending rays of weak sunlight into the tree house and the surrounding playground.
It was close to 8am as the sun began to shine down on Storybrooke, on what would become a very significant Saturday for the Mills/Swan family.
Damon was getting stoned with his best friends, the drugs providing an escape from his physical pain and a rescue from his problems. Across the river, back in town, the day for most people was just beginning.
Back at home, Henry was awake, and reading comic books in his bed, entirely unbothered by the world around him, and looking forward to the familiar smell of Saturday pancakes.
Daniel was fast asleep in bed, with his blankets up to his ears, and his favourite toy, a soft giraffe named Jake, snuggled in his arms.
Regina was standing in her shower, naked under the stream of hot water. Her hands rested on her rounded belly, and her baby kicked enthusiastically at her touch.
Several streets away, Emma lay in her bed, clad in nothing but her white cotton sheets, her tanned skin and blonde hair stark against the crisp white. Emma stared at the ceiling, and ran her fingers across her exposed nipples stimulating them idly. Nestled between her thighs was Belle, whose tongue was expertly accosting Emma's core, especially the sweet nub at the top of her folds.
Emma breathed deeply and looked down, her eyes focusing on Belles shape under the sheet. Her hands were easing up her body to hold her breasts, and for some unknown reason, Emma imagined Belle's pale, manicured fingers were instead Regina's olive skinned, slender ones. She clutched the hands, blocking them from view, and arched her back. Her imagination took hold, and the woman between her legs became Regina.
She thrust into the tongue that was pleasuring her, and began purring with excitement, moaning aloud as her orgasm built. Then, suddenly the pressure was removed from her clitoris and Belle's head popped up from under the blanket, her face twisted into a frown.
"Did you just moan for Regina?" She demanded, her eyes flashing angrily.
"What? No." Emma defended herself quickly, unsure of what she had said aloud, but certainly guilty of thinking of her wife.
"Even after all I've sacrificed to be with you." Belle said huffily, scrambling out of the sheets, her heavy breasts swinging impressively as she excited the bed.
"I did too." Emma replied, trying to keep her voice sweet. She'd sacrificed a lot more than Belle, she didn't think Belle had had to sacrifice anything really. But she didn't want to fight, and she was horny.
"Come back to bed Belle." The blonde pleaded, slipping a couple of fingers into her entrance and stimulating herself.
"Get fucking Regina to do it." Belle shouted as she stalked away and slammed the en-suite bathroom door shut behind her.
"Don't be stupid!" Emma pleaded futilely, but no reply came from the bathroom.
She heaved a heavy sigh and rolled over to her beside dressing table. She pulled out a large, vivid blue vibrator and switched it on.
"I guess I'll just finish up myself." She called out, but again no response from Belle.
Emma rolled her eyes and inserted the sex toy inside herself, and pressed her own fingers against her nub. She didn't know why Regina was suddenly on her mind, and she could feel the irony of the situation, but as she fingered herself to orgasm that morning, with the freshly risen sun shining in through her window, it was Regina she imagined to be pleasuring her.