Chapter 2: A wolf, an imp, and a writer barge into a house
Making it a very awkward night for everyone involved
It would be later that day when Emma's life would drastically change.
It began with Henry's arrival, shrugging off his backpack and accepting Emma's offer to join her for dinner.
Just as Emma was about to take the food out of the oven, the doorbell rang. Being busy at the time, Emma asked Henry to get it for her.
"Er, mom? I think this is for you," Henry tersely called from the door.
Hearing the sound of her son's voice, she didn't even remember to shuck off her oven mitts before rushing to the door, wondering if Henry was in danger. There, she was met with the weirdest trio.
At her doorstep stood Red, much the same as the last time she saw her, still enjoying this world's existence of very skimpy outfits, just now with an actual red streak on her straightened hair, the weird man from that fateful night, now wearing a three piece suit, hair a bit shorter and more tame. With them was nervous third woman that looked very distressed, her short brown hair clipped behind her, and wearing a bright summer dress that was quite frayed, which suggested that she had not planned for this excursion.
The imp welcomed himself into the house, and brought the two other women with him. It was then that Emma realized that Red and the other women had their wrists tied up and he was leading them.
Emma's first instinct was to protect Henry, so she tried to usher him to stand behind her. "What the hell is going on?"
"Relax dearie. You are instrumental for my plan to work, and besides, I doubt your little oven mitts could do much against me," the man said, a confident smirk on his face.
Oh how badly she wanted to punch him.
"And what plan is that?" Emma asked cautiously, not moving, just to remove her mitts and place them on a nearby table.
The man, who she now remembered was named Rumpelstiltskin, pointed to Red. "You see, your little friend was kind enough to lead me right to the author of my story, and I am going to get her," - he pointed to the other woman - "To write us all back into the book, and you are going to read it."
Emma gulped.
And Henry, wanting to be brave, said, "And why the hell would we go along with your plan?"
Rumpelstiltskin giggled at that. "Oh he is a feisty one! Well, I assume you want to meet your other mother?"
Emma didn't even want to look at her son, just his sharp intake of breath was enough to gauge what was going through his mind.
"My other mother is dead," he said slowly, walking out from behind his mom, and Emma wished she could pause time to just explain everything to him.
Like the fact that it was easier to tell him that Regina had died than it was to explain that she got sucked into a book, which Emma barely believed herself.
"Oh I'm sure we'll find that she's quite alive, but where is another question entirely. I'm sure my guards have taken excellent care of her in my dungeons," he mused with a wicked smile on his face.
"Why you little-" Emma roared, rushing to him, fists raised.
She barely stopped a few inches away from him when she saw the gun he deftly pulled out and aimed resolutely. Not at her, but at Henry.
"Ah ah dearie. Unless you want to lose your son, you will step back." His threat seemed real enough, and Emma was inclined to follow, so she just relaxed her hands and backed away.
"Good. Now, let's get Lacey here settled, shall we? Maybe that wonderful room that we all first crossed paths?" he pleasantly suggested, as if they were deciding where to host their book club.
Emma led them back to the living room, a room she actively avoided if she could. She glanced at Henry, and she could just tell that he was beyond hurt and desolate.
"Henry, let me explain-" Emma began.
"Perhaps we should let Lacey work in peace, wouldn't you agree?" Rumpelstiltskin interrupted.
Emma glared at him. "I need to talk to my son for a moment."
The imp tutted. "There will be plenty of time when we get back home."
"This is my home," Henry muttered bitterly, making it clear that it wasn't just with Emma that he was angry with.
But Rumpelstiltskin was not interested in his petty words. "And my home is in a book, a home I haven't visited in six years, so I believe my needs precede yours, boy. Now, Emma is it? Fetch her a pen and some paper. And don't think about doing anything stupid."
And so Emma went to the side table, well within the imp's sights, grabbing what he needed. Once finished, the imp pushed her to sit down between tense Red and an angry Henry on the couch. Emma felt the minutes crawl as they waited for this Lacey to write the passage that the imp wanted.
While they waited, Emma let her mind wander, otherwise she'd go stir crazy trying to think of how to talk to Henry. So she focused on this Lacey woman. How could she even be the author? The book was ancient and derelict, this woman couldn't possibly be that old.
As the time passed, all they could hear were clock ticks, a pen scratching paper, and Rumpelstiltskin pacing. At one point, she began to click the pen over and over again before seemingly running the pen all over the sheet.
After what felt like hours, Lacey let out a breath. "I'm finished."
She had a peculiar accent that Emma couldn't quite place. Australian maybe? Did Red and the imp travel all the way down there to hunt down this author? Emma couldn't fathom how he could have gotten them past airport security tied up like that.
Rumpelstiltskin scanned the passage to make sure that there was nothing in it that would insinuate he would be getting the short end of the stick. He paused at one part in one of the end pages. "Why do I feel like there are invisible scribbles on this page?"
Lacey looked apologetic. "The pen ran out of ink for a bit. I just clicked it for a bit to get it working again, doodling on the page to see if it would work, but I don't feel quite right continuing after that. So I just left the passage like that, I figure that will be enough to get us all there."
Emma barely believed that fib, but the imp bought it for some reason, and handed the paper to Emma. "Read."
Taking the papers in her hand, Emma knew that he would grow suspicious if she tried to look at what secret message Lacey had written.
So she began to read out loud, letting the words take over her mind.
"A long time had passed since we last saw our characters. Rumpelstiltskin had gone missing, but his regime still kept control of the land with loyal soldiers who held fast to their orders. Meanwhile Snow White's army had suffered a blow by Red's loss, and because of that, the werewolves were no longer allies in their fight for the Enchanted Forest."
In another land, a land far away from that, with mechanical horses and magical screens, a special woman named Emma read a passage that would grant her the ability to find her long-lost wife again. She was joined by Rumpelstiltskin, who was desperate to return to his position of power, Red, who sorely missed her friends and family, a young boy named Henry who was currently resenting his mother for keeping a pretty large secret from him. Across from them was the author named Belle, who had some secrets of her own that no one in the room could possibly know. Like the fact that while she agreed to write this passage, she is also adding a few caveats."
"What?" Rumpelstiltskin frowned, but it seemed time was moving much slower, because he couldn't move fast enough to stop Emma from continuing to read.
"For one, their arrival to the Enchanted Forest will be right outside Snow White's kingdom, barring for Rumpelstiltskin, who will be sent to the Endless Forest, without his powers-"
"NO!" Rumpelstiltskin yelled at hearing Emma's words.
But the deed had been done.
The air around them felt weird. Like they were in two places at once, with a thick fog enveloping all of them so all they could see were each other.
Emma looked at Lacey - or was her name Belle? - and the other woman wordlessly urged her to continue.
"-And without a single tool to help him find his way. That would be his punishment for all of his misdeeds, while the newcomers would help Snow White reclaim the Enchanted Forest for good."
And then a flash of light was the last thing Emma remembered seeing.