Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Once Upon a Time.


Chapter 2: Storybrooke

Long ago, in a faraway land…

The large pond was calm and quiet. About half of the pond was frozen over, the ice thick enough to walk on in most places; the water of the other half was still, with only the occasional ripple disturbing the mirror-like image of the moonlit sky overhead.

Then, quite abruptly, the surface of the water burst upwards with a loud splash, as a pair of hands broke the surface, grasping the edge of the ice. They were followed quickly by two muscular arms, and then by a head and shoulders.

Gasping and coughing up water, a young man hauled himself out onto the ice, crawling painfully across the frozen surface until he was out of the water. Shaking, he scrambled across the ice and onto the cold, sandy shore at the edge of the pond.

The young man collapsed once he had reached the soft sand, rolling onto his back. His face was lean and sculpted, with prominent cheekbones and full lips. His eyes were an unusually bright blue, and his spiked-up hair was a shade of blonde so pale that it was almost pure white.

Coughing weakly, the boy stared up at the sky, his breathing rasping and shallow. He blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

Where… where am I? he thought.

Rolling onto his side, he looked around, examining the area in which he found himself. Again, there was nothing to be seen. Only the pond, shining in the silver moonlight; the dark trees all around; and the moon, hanging in the sky overhead.

The young man picked himself up, managing to rise to his hands and knees. He discovered, to his surprise, that, although he was soaked to the bone, and there was snow and ice all around him, he was not nearly as cold as he would have expected. In fact, it felt as if he wasn't cold at all.

And, also to his surprise, he didn't have the faintest idea how he had gotten there.

He frowned in confusion. How… how did I get here? The last thing I remember is…

After a long moment, his eyes widened in shock.

He couldn't remember anything. The first memory he could find was of waking up at the bottom of the pond a couple of minutes ago. Before that, there was nothing; only darkness, and cold.

He couldn't remember anything about himself. He couldn't remember his name, his age, where he was from, whether he had a family… nothing.

"Who am I?" he whispered, his voice rasping from coughing up icy water. "What… what's my name?"

Whatever had happened to him, he reasoned, he couldn't stay here; he'd freeze to death. His best chance was to start walking, and see if he could find a house somewhere that could give him food and warm clothes.

He managed to gain his feet, with great effort, and then started walking away, heading off into the forest. As he walked, though, one of his feet bumped against something.

Looking down, he was surprised to see a large tree branch lying on the sand, at his feet. The branch appeared to have been crafted into a staff of some kind, about five feet long with an intricate curve at one end.

"Might be useful," he muttered to himself, reaching down and picking up the staff. Leaning on it as if it were a cane, he limped off into the forest, his balance becoming surer with each step.

On the one hand, he had no idea who he was, where he was, and where he had come from. He didn't know where he was going, or why he had awoken at the bottom of a frozen pond to begin with.

But, on the other hand, at least he was alive, and – although it still seemed odd – he wasn't freezing to death at the moment, which was always a plus.

The rest, he'd figure out later.


Granny's Diner

Storybrooke, Maine

Sheriff Emma Swan walked into the diner, just in time to see Mary Margaret Blanchard, one of her closest friends, seated with her back to the door.

Emma frowned. Didn't she say she was helping the kids with a science fair project at the school this morning?

Walking over to Mary Margaret, Emma sat down across from her. "So, what happened to the science project?" she asked casually.

Mary Margaret jumped as Emma sat down, her eyes wide. "Emma! I… um… just wanted to, you know, stop by and get some coffee before I headed over there."

Even without her uncanny ability to tell when someone was lying, Emma knew that Mary Margaret was completely making this up. The young teacher kept glancing nervously around the room, clearly trying to avoid making eye contact with Emma.

Emma glanced over to the counter, unsurprised to see David Nolan in the process of getting his morning coffee. The young man didn't notice that they were watching him.

With a sigh, Emma turned back to face Mary Margaret. "How often have you been doing this?" she asked, indicating David with one hand. "Following him, I mean?"

Mary Margaret blushed, looking down at the table. "Not too often," she murmured. "Just the last couple of days."

"Not to judge," Emma said in as gentle of a tone as she could manage, "but most people would call that stalking."

Mary Margaret's eyes widened. "What?" she protested. "No, I'm not stalking him. I just know that he comes here at 7:15 every morning to get coffee." She blushed again, looking down as she murmured, "And then goes home, has breakfast and drives out to work at the animal shelter for the rest of the day."

Emma groaned internally. "Yeah, that's stalking," she said softly. "And it's not good for you, or for him." She placed a hand over Mary Margaret's, supportively. "I'm sorry, but you should stop doing this. It'll only hurt you."

Hesitantly raising her head to look Emma in the eye, Mary Margaret sighed in resignation. "You're right," she said. "You're right. I just…" She trailed off helplessly.

"Hey," Emma said. "I get it, I really do." She smiled faintly. "But I think you need to let him go."

Before Mary Margaret could reply, the rumbling sound of a car pulling up outside interrupted them. The sound was much louder than any car engine Emma had heard since arriving in Storybrooke; that was coming from a powerful engine.

A car door closed; footsteps crunched on gravel. Emma looked curiously towards the front door, behind Mary Margaret.

After a long moment, the front door of the diner opened, and a young man walked in. He was fairly tall, with clearly defined muscles visible under his shirt, and seemed to be in his late teens. He was wearing black leather shoes, blue jeans, a skintight red T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. His light brown hair was spiked up, and his clear blue eyes gleamed with amusement. His tan skin, prominent cheekbones and full lips combined for a fairly attractive appearance. All in all, he resembled a rich boy from a big city like New York more than he did the average resident of Storybrooke.

Emma had never seen him before; he was completely unfamiliar.

Mary Margaret, surprised by Emma's sudden change of focus, turned to look towards the door; her eyes widened in surprise, and she turned back to face Emma. "Who is that?" she asked.

"No idea," Emma replied. "Let's find out." Standing, she walked up to the front, intercepting the young man as he started towards the counter. "Morning," she said briskly. "Can I help you with something?"

The young man turned to face her, smiling faintly. "Uh, yeah, actually, you can," he said. "I'm just passing through, but in case you haven't noticed, there's a pretty bad storm brewing out there. And, since this town seems to be in the middle of nowhere, I'd rather not get caught out on the road in the middle of the woods during a thunderstorm. So, would you happen to know if there's a motel or something like that around here; anyplace I could spend the night?"

Momentarily taken off guard, Emma took a second to reply. "Yes, there is," she replied. "You should probably talk to Granny about that." She pointed towards the counter, where Granny had just emerged from the back room. "She runs the inn."

"Got it. Thanks." Nodding, the young man strolled past Emma and over to the counter, where he came to a stop in front of a very surprised Granny.

"Um, good morning… how can I help you?" she asked.

"Well, I was hoping I could get a room for the night," the young man said with a smile.

Granny's eyes widened in astonishment. "A… a room? Really?"

"Yeah." He indicated the clouds outside the window with one hand. "I'd rather not get caught out in that tonight, so a room would be very helpful. Would you happen to have one open?"

"I… yes! Definitely!" Granny said eagerly, rummaging through the drawers of the counter until she found a ledger and a pen. "Would you like a square view or a forest view?"

"Hmm…" The young man considered that for a moment, then smiled. "Forest, I think."

"Well, okay, then. What's the name?" Granny poised her pen over the ledger.

"Jackson. Jackson Whittemore."

Nodding, Granny quickly scribbled down the name on the ledger, then produced a key from her pocket and handed it to the young man. "The inn's right next door; you're in Room 3. Upstairs from the front room, second door on your left. I'll send Ruby over to help you get settled in."

The young man – Jackson – nodded. "Thanks, I appreciate it." Taking the key, he turned and left the diner, nodding to Emma as he passed her. The front door closed behind him.

"I might be wrong about this," David mused from where he was standing by the counter, "but this town doesn't usually get a lot of visitors, does it?"

"No," Granny answered, "it doesn't. Actually, now that I think about it… only three people come to mind. That guy who checked in last night; Emma; and now this boy."

Emma raised an eyebrow as she turned to face Granny. "That's it? Really?"

Granny nodded. "Yes; you three are the only visitors who've checked into the inn for a long time."

Emma frowned, gazing after Jackson as he headed back towards his car. She felt a momentary chill run down her spine.

Something wasn't right about that kid.

And she was going to find out what it was.


Granny's Inn

The inn was pretty much exactly what Jackson had been expecting; a fairly quaint little place, with all of the classic small-town charm.

Jackson knocked on the front door and gently opened it, stepping inside and glancing around. "Hello?" he called, walking into the front room and tapping on the front counter. "Anyone here?" He remembered that Granny had said something about sending "Ruby" over to help him find his room, but there was clearly no one here.

"Can I help you?" a girl's voice asked from directly behind him.

Jackson whipped around, his eyes wide in surprise. What the hell? No one should have been able to sneak up on him without his acute hearing picking them up.

The girl standing behind him was slightly shorter than he was, with shoulder-length dark hair streaked with red. Her eyes were light green, which went well with her dark hair and pale skin. She was wearing a white, tied-off top and white-and-red shorts that ended above her knees. All in all, the word "knockout" could safely be used to describe her.

Jackson grinned, still feeling slightly uneasy that she'd been able to sneak up behind him without his noticing. "You're Ruby, I presume."

"Yep," she replied coolly, looking him up and down. "And you are…?"

"I'm Jackson," he replied with a smirk. "Jackson Whittemore. I was told that I'm in Room 3; could you show me where that is?"

Ruby nodded. "Sure; follow me. First, though; did you have any bags in the car?"

"Yeah; hang on, I'll get them." Jackson ducked out the door before she could say anything, hurrying over to his car. He popped the trunk of the black Lexus, lifting a suitcase out with each hand. Setting down one suitcase, he closed the trunk, then turned and walked back to the front door of the inn.

Ruby was waiting when he walked back into the room. "About time," she commented.

"Hey, you try lifting these," Jackson countered. It was actually a lot easier than he let on; his superhuman strength made lifting the suitcases as easy as if they'd been empty. Their size still made it somewhat awkward to get them through the doorway.

Ruby snorted. "Whatever. Come on; your room's this way."

Jackson followed her up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, until she came to a stop in front of a door marked with the number 3. Setting down his suitcases, Jackson removed the key Granny had given him from his pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it.

The room was pleasant enough; there was a bed, a small nightstand, a dresser with a television on top of it, and a closet with a full-length mirror. A sliding glass door in one wall offered a view of the forest outside.

"Let me know if you need anything," Ruby said. "Welcome to Storybrooke." She turned with a wink and sauntered out of the room, obviously heading back to the diner.

Jackson smirked, closing the door behind her and then lifting his suitcases onto the bed.

"Interesting place," he murmured to himself, glancing out through the glass door into the forest. "I have a feeling I'm going to like it here."


A/N: And here we are again. I hope you guys are all enjoying this story!

If anyone would like to guess who the young man in the opening scene was, I will say that the scene did take place in the fairy-tale world; we'll have to wait to discover the young man's true identity. He will be very important to the story, though.

Shoutout to Tala White 14 for reviewing, I really appreciate the feedback!

See you all next time!

Review Q&A:

Q: Cool start! I can't wait to see where this is going! Your writing is very fluent and I like the vivid descriptions. I'm also really excited at the prospect of seeing a bit more of Ruby, who is my favourite character in OUAT. Please write more!

A: Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying the story! And yeah, we'll definitely be seeing Ruby quite often in this story.