Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and any unrecognizable characters and dialogue.
IMPORTANT - I've currently been out of the country (mine at least) and will be in Italy until the beginning of October. Now, I'd originally planned on getting both the next two chapters of this, and the next one for Frost Bitten, out before I left, but work and packing and planning ended up taking precedence.
So, we're almost to the end of the first season with just a chapter to go. For those of you missing him, there's going to be some of Peter within this chapter and the next one, both in flashbacks and in real life.
And, whenever I can get around to it, I was thinking of making a tumblr for this story, to put previews and such on, though that depends on if you all want me to. Keep in mind, though, that it might not happen until a few weeks.
Chapter playlist: 'The Countdown' from 'The Hunger Games' and 'The Kingsroad' from 'Game of Thrones OTS: Season 1'
Regina eyed Henry over the dinner table shrewdly. Her son had been oddly quiet, moreso than usual, and she knew exactly what was to blame. She'd sent Lillian home the moment Henry had crossed the threshold of their house, unwilling to allow the Dark Lilith to be around her son more than necessary. Henry glanced up once more and she smiled at him, not surprised when he didn't return the expression. She was contemplating how to broach the subject of relieving his current babysitter of her duties when the doorbell rang.
Frowning now, she daintily wiped her lips before standing. "I don't recall us expecting any company." She observed, forcing her voice to remain neutral, assuming that Lillian would be on the other side of the door. However, she was mildly startled to see not the teen, but the town's blonde haired sheriff on her doorstep. "Sheriff Swan," she greeted flatly. "What are you doing here?"
Emma's face was oddly blank. "Henry invited me."
"Do you honestly believe I'd allow you into my house for dinner, after all the threats you made to my family?" Regina was barely able to stop herself from scoffing, her expression incredulous as she considered the very nerve of the woman before her.
"I didn't come for dinner.
"Then, what did you come for?" Regina asked, suddenly, oddly, unnerved by the woman before her.
"You."
Startled, the mayor turned her head, searching for her son. Her heart stuttered in her chest when she found no trace of him in the dining room, and she whirled back around to the doorway, eyes widening in shock. Several other Storybrooke citizens flanked Emma, who, despite her previously blank expression, now had the barest of a cruel tilt to her thin lips.
"We all did."
Heart clenching in her chest with fear now, fear that threatened to choke the air from her lungs, Regina backed into the house, heading for the stairs. The sight at the top, however, made her limbs freeze, an icy chill spreading to her extremities. Henry stood at the top of the stairs, Lillian behind him, her hands on his shoulders, and a noose in his hands.
"Henry." She managed the strangled gasp of his name before hands, cruel and bruising, grabbed hold of her and dragged her from her home.
They ended up on Main Street, where her apple tree had somehow come to rest, the once red, vibrant fruit now black and rotted. With Ruby and Archie on either side of her, she was slammed against the thin trunk with a grunt of protest as they began to bind her. Several citizens had gathered, some holding torches, though they all observed her with hate.
"No…." She gasped out as Ruby yanked viciously on the rope, uncaring if it bruised the other woman. "No…. Let me go," she begged, hating the weakness in her voice. "I command it!"
"After everything you've done to all of us?" Ruby snarled, much like the wolf she once was.
Archie sneered at her, pulling so tightly on the rope it bit into Regina's skin. "My apologies, Your Majesty, but my conscience is clear!"
"You're not Queen anymore, sister!" Leroy added, his gruff face twisted into an ugly grimace of hate.
"Tighter!" Granny shouted, and Archie and Ruby hastened to do as she said. "She needs to feel our pain!"
"You took our love and ripped it apart!" Mary Margaret shouted, hand in hand with David, who added, "And now, you're gonna pay!"
Emma approached then, her expression one of muted hate. She reached above Regina, who watched, eyes misted over with tears when Emma lowered her hand. In it was a black, rotted apple, and the Savior easily crushed it between her fingers, stealing a gasp from the mayor's throat.
"Rotten to the core," Emma observed flatly, light eyes glimmering with cold rage.
"I just wanted to win…." Regina choked out, her face hot and her throat closing up. "For once -"
Emma's hand closed round her throat, cutting off the air to her lungs. The blonde leaned closer, her expression twisting as she hissed out lowly, "You took away our happiness," Regina watched, terror gripping her, sinking its claws into her heart and refusing to let go. "And now, it's our turn to take away yours."
She expected to feel her windpipe crushed, to have the breath stolen from her very lungs, never to return. Instead, the bruising grip left her throat, and she watched, bewildered, as Emma turned on her heel and stalked to David.
"…What?" The word died in her mouth as the former prince handed his daughter a sword, the metal gleaming in the torchlight. As the blonde held the sword aloft, Regina focused on her son.
He stood beside his grandmother, with Lillian just behind, her hands on his little shoulders. The teen was eying her, pale eyes flashing red every so often.
"Henry," Regina tried, her heart lifting with hope when he stepped away from Lillian's grasp, the teen letting him go easily. "Henry, please don't let them do this to me." She begged.
She was woefully unprepared for the sudden, mutinous hate to transform her son's features into a snarl. "You did this to yourself." He returned to Lillian's grabbing her hand, then grabbing Mary Margaret's in his free one.
"Oh, don't worry, Your Majesty," the brunette hissed, pale eyes glittering with malice. "I'll love him better than you ever could." Her lips pressed against the top of his head, as if making a vow of her words.
Tears once more stung at her eyes, her lips parted in despair as her own son abandoned her. Motion caught her gaze, and she glanced up in time to see Emma stalking towards her, blade in hand. The blonde aimed, and then the steel was sailing towards Regina's neck, bitingly cold when the sharp edge connected with her tender, unprotected neck -
Regina jolted upright in bed, heartbeat throbbing within her ears, while her eyes swept around the room frantically. It was just a dream... just a dream. As the fear and pain and sheer horror from the dream began to ebb away, she felt her heartbeat begin to slow. Sudden terror, new and fresh, grabbed hold of her heart and she raced from her room, down the hall to her son's.
Heart in her throat, choking her, she opened the door with little care, and sweet relief flooded through her. Her son lay in his bed, cuddled beneath the covers as usual. Inwardly, she sighed with relief, feeling her eyes prick with tears as she stood in the doorway. The urge to wake him, to hold him in her arms, was strong, but she refrained. Henry was a smart boy; he'd be able to tell that something was wrong, and she didn't have the heart to lie at the moment.
Closing the door behind her with a quiet click, she made her way back to her room, easily falling back to sleep, completely unaware of the pile of pillows she'd taken for her son. Unaware that said son was currently ensconced in a yellow bug speeding down the streets, away from her and away from Storybrooke.
Henry glanced behind him, taking in the small amount of possessions hastily packed into boxes that filled the back seat of Emma's vehicle. Turning back to his mother curiously, he barely noted the strained expression on her pale features, or the way she kept peeking into the rear-view mirror.
"Is that all your stuff?"
She nodded tersely. "All I need."
Heartbeat picking up, Henry looked back between his mother and the boxes. "Wait... you want to go now?" He asked, the first trickles of panic beginning to set it." We're leaving now?"
"Uh-huh." She glanced in the mirrors again, half expecting Lillian to suddenly appear in them. "I'm getting you out of here. Away from all this." Her voice lowered, "Away from her."
"No, no. Stop the car!" He demanded, his childish voice pitching higher in distress. "You can't leave Storybrooke. You have to break the curse."
"No, I don't. I have to help you."
"But you're a hero – you can't run." Henry said, lost, as his mother practically shattered his hopes in front of him. "You have to help everybody."
"Henry," Emma began, finally turning to look at her son, steeling herself in the face of his obvious distress. "I know it's hard for you to see it, but I'm doing what's best for you. That's what you wanted when you brought me to Storybrooke."
"But the curse… you're the only chance to bring back the happy endings."
Her eyes softened at the tears in his own, making his eyes overly bright. "Henry…" Unprepared for his next move, she barely had time to react when he launched himself across the seat, grabbing hold of the wheel. "Henry!" Struggling briefly with him, she couldn't stop the car from swerving into a ditch. As the whiplash from the crash wore off, and as her brain cleared from the shock, she turned to her son, heart in her throat.
"Henry, what were you doing?" She demanded angrily even as she checked him over for injuries. "You could've gotten us killed!"
She was unprepared to be met with tears and watched, numbly, as her son began to plead with her. "Please! Please, don't make me go!" He said, swallowing to hold back his impending sobs. "We can't go! Everything's here… me, your parents, your family… our family!" He thought of Lillian's pale, horrified face as Emma had sped away from Regina's house. "Please, Emma. They need you. Your family needs you."
Emma stared at him in stunned silence, her eyes wide. While she'd known he thought his stories were true, it had never hit her just how much her cared, how much he believed them to be true. Staring at him, at the tears in his eyes that threatened to spill any moment, she felt her earlier resolved to get him out of this town and away from Regina weaken and crumble with one shakily whispered word.
"Okay."
Despite being a light sleeper, Gold was almost sure his heart give out when the door to his room slammed open. Light spilled into the room and he had to squint to make out the body outlined in the dim light. He barely had time to realize it was Lillian before she sped into the room and nearly launched them both off the bed.
"Lillian, what -" He stilled, suddenly able to see the brightness of her eyes, and feel the shallowness of her breath against his collar. His hands immediately went around her shaking shoulders, holding her tightly as she gripped the shoulders of his nightshirt, tremors intermediately racking her body. Mildly stunned by her frantic behavior, he kept his mouth firmly shut and waited for her to calm.
Soon enough, the shaking subsided enough for her to whisper out a stream of halted, strained words. "Emma... she-she took... she took Henry." She shuddered violently, barely aware of Gold maneuvering her off him and onto the bed. Once he'd had her seated on the mattress, he placed his hands on her shoulder, gripping tightly.
"Lillian, calm down," he half-pleaded, even though her expression remained blank. Despite having memories of breakdowns - including both teenage and childhood tantrums - Gold hadn't had to actually sooth her when she'd done this and he was close to panicking. The only other scenario he'd experienced, was the last time she'd broken down in such a manner. It had been right after her return from wherever it was that she'd been sent for three decades. He'd entered her room one morning to find her on the ground, hands bleeding all over herself, as she sobbed.
Lilith had never told him what had brought on that bout of tears, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Whatever had happened to her during her missing years, it had changed her, magically, emotionally and physically. She'd been darker ever since, more prone to anger and hatred than she ever had been before. She'd known things, things he'd gone to great lengths to hide from her, and had regarded him with mistrust and anger for it.
But this... "Are you sure?" He asked sharply, eyes narrowed when she nodded miserably. Panic, raw and wild, gripped him, squeezing the air from his lungs. If the Savior had indeed left town, something Gold had to admit was a likely possibility, then all their hopes were lost. He'd never see Bae again, neither would Lilith, and they would be stuck here forever with Regina holding it above their heads for said eternity.
"We have to go and find her," Lillian said, breaking him from his musings. She made to stand, wobbling like a newborn foal, and started for the door.
He grabbed hold of her hand, his expression stern. "And then what? You and I cannot cross the town line, Lillian. Not without dire consequences."
That made her stop, a scowl forming on her lips. While the threat had always been there, and her Cursed self had never had the need to cross the line, Lillian had no idea what happened if one tried to cross the town line. While Ashley had crashed Ruby's car before she'd crossed the line, Lillian had never been too sure that the crash had been the consequence of trying to cross the line.
There was nothing they could do, she realized hatefully. All they could do was sit and wait for Emma to return, stuck in a Cursed town with Regina. Lillian shuddered at the thought, looking down at her hands, and fell back onto the bed.
"What do we do?" She asked, slowly raising her eyes to meet his own.
He held back a shiver at the deadened look in them, well aware of what could happen if the Savior succeeded in leaving town, with little Henry Mills in tow.
Lilith eyed the empty camp shrewdly, idly wondering how annoyed Peter would be if she set it on fire. It's not as if there aren't at least half a dozen more exactly like it. While she knew setting the camp on fire would be a bad idea, as it was sure to put a puff in Pan's petticoat, she dearly wanted to do so. Her magic buzzed beneath her skin, like little pinpricks of electricity, and she need to do something to get rid of the access energy.
She raised a hand to rub at the bridge of her nose while the throbbing behind her eyes worsened. While she knew her use of Dark Magic had warped her own magic, she'd never truly dealt with this before. Before, she'd constantly used magic, it was as vital to her as breathing, especially when one lived with the Dark One, whose idea of fun was throwing fireballs at her to 'keep her on her toes'.
Now, stuck on Neverland with only one other magic user, one who rarely used the full extent of his abilities, her magic had built up. It roiled beneath her skin, seeking an exit. The thrumming worsened as she carelessly went over scenarios that could be used as an outlet for her excess magical energy. When a hand touched her shoulder, despite the barrier her clothes and cloak made, energy sparked, making Peter snatch his hand back.
"Still having trouble," he observed quietly, shaking his hand to dispel the sharp bite of her energy. Eyes raised, made luminous in the moonlight that peeked through the trees, and Lillian nodded once. He raised his hand once more, carefully this time, and gently traced her slightly rounded cheeks with his fingertips.
Satisfied that she wasn't going to accidentally set him on fire, though he doubted she actually could, he cupped her face in his hand, saying nothing. She let him trace his fingers along her pale skin, nose wrinkling when he brushed a ticklish spot, and even leaned into the caress. Despite the hold on his emotions, she felt the excitement that trickled through at her acceptance of his touch, and she drew back to stare at him quietly.
"I thought you were helping the boys move camp." Her voice was light, reserved, and he almost sighed at the sound.
"Felix is handling it - I came to find you." He half expected to get a fireball thrown in his face, though all she did was continue to stare, not rising to the bait.
"I'd rather be alone right now, if it's all the same to you." She muttered, turning on her heel. With a flick of her hands, she was in the tree house, the one he'd put aside for her.
She looked around the small space thoughtfully, unable to stop a shiver from arcing up her spine. He's had this ready for me... for Gods know how long... all because the Shadow showed him a vision when he met my... my mother. Even now, even all these years later, something within her chest shifted and ached at the thought of her mother.
Her memories of the woman were few, though had a startling clarity that Rumple had always chalked up to her latent magical talents. Her mother, for all her own powers, had refused to nurture the budding magic within Lilith's own blood. Which, she raised a hand and, instead of the golden glow she'd sometimes glimpsed on her mother's, a magenta hue covered her palm, would explain why I'm not the best at healing, even though it's in my blood.
She felt Peter, like a hum of energy brushing alongside her own, and closed her eyes. He'd gotten fairly good at withholding his emotions, though she doubted he realized the full extent of her abilities as an empath. His energy was dark, almost overpoweringly so, and yet to her, it wasn't cold, not did it stop her from brushing along it. A warmth, one she figured he didn't even know about, lightly brushed back, and she shivered once more.
Her eyes flickered open to meet a pair of curious, green eyes several inches from her own. One eyebrow was raised, almost comically, and she reigned in the desire to roll her eyes.
"You're worried," she observed softly, her voice suddenly hoarse. "I don't know what about but..." She trailed off when his mood suddenly shifted, clamping her mouth shut.
His hands, cautious, raised and he cupped her face once more, gently drawing her closer. Her heart leapt into her throat, cutting off any words of protest that might have formed on her suddenly heavy tongue. Even though his eyes landed on her lips, watching with growing heat as her tongue darted out to wet the suddenly dry flesh, his own lips gently touched her forehead chastely.
Magic sparked between them, as it always did whenever her energy built up from disuse, and Lilith closed her eyes at the electricity that set her body on fire. Her hands came up to grip his hands, spread out along her flesh, and she held on tightly, as if trying to prolong the contact. His eyes were much brighter when he pulled back, and he noted with no small amount of bemusement that her own were practically glowing in the darkness.
He leaned closer again, his lips hovering over her own this time, and their gazes met. This close, he could see the myriad of different colors, the flecks of golds and greens within her eyes, as well as the growing heat within them. He didn't seal his mouth against hers, though his entire body screamed at him to do so. The fear in her gaze, however slight, held him back, and he merely rested his forehead against her own, exhaling deeply in a rush of hot air against her lips.
"Happy birthday, love."
The sight of her tree wilting, of the apples blackening as they had been in the dream, shook Regina to her core. Shoulders set, she made her way to Gold's, half expecting Lillian to be there, as the girl hadn't shown up at her house the moment the sun had risen. The young woman was not there, though the proprietor was.
"Your Majesty," he greeted airily, as if he had no inkling as to why she was there. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
She leveled him with a flat stare, holding up the slowly rotting fruit in her hand. "My tree is dying. Why?"
The barest hints of a smirk flitted across his lips. "Perhaps, it's your fertilizer."
"You think this is funny?" She demanded hotly. "Well, I'll tell you what I think. I think it's a sign of the curse weakening because of Emma." Barley realizing she'd leaned closer, she parted her lips in a snarl as he began to limp away from her. "But do you care? No. You're content to just sit back and do… whatever it is you're doing, while all my hard work burns."
"That's not all, is it? Come on. You might as well get everything off your chest." He said, rounding the counter as she scoffed.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Henry," the words passed through his lips with relish. "Miss Swan wants him."
"She'll have that boy over my dead body."
"The curse was meant to take away Snow White and Prince Charming's happiness." Gold reminded her carefully, gesturing. "Perhaps, you giving up Henry is just the price to keep the curse unbroken."
"I think I'd rather just get rid of her." She snarled, ignoring his admittedly logical view point.
He slipped behind another counter, exhaling sharply at her ambitions. "Well, well." Turning to face her, he raised a brow. "You're going to have to be quite creative. We both know the repercussions in killing Miss Swan. The curse will be…."
"The curse will be broken." She stalked towards him. That's because you designed it that way. Undo it.
It was his turn to scoff. "You know… even if I wanted to, I couldn't." He enjoyed the rage behind her eyes, rounding the counter to stalk down the shop. "Magic… well… is in short supply around here and dwindling by the minute."
"You want the curse broken." Regina said, the truth of her words resonating within her. The surprise soon gave way to rage, suspicion intermingling. "Why?"
"That's not something I care to discuss." He snapped back, twisting his head to sneer at her.
"Don't bother, you can shove your reasons." She strode toward him. "I want to strike a new deal," the smile on her painted lips infuriated him. "One where I can get rid of Emma without shattering the curse."
"Unfortunately for you, a negotiation requires two interested parties, and I'm already planning a trip."
"I'll give you anything." She winced at the pleading in her voice, whirling round to stare at him as he limped to the front counter.
His hand fell on the open records book, picking up a pen that he nearly crushed when he spun round to face her. "You no longer have anything I want, dearie." The expression on his face soon became unforgiving. "But I will give you a piece of advice, free of charge. I'd plan a trip of your own. Because, once people waken up and remember who you are and what you did to them…." He turned round, a dark, rasping chuckle rising from his chest as he chucked the pen down and touched the globe. "They are going to be looking for blood."
Lilith shifted around, gritting her teeth as the hammock swayed beneath her weight. Having never slept in such an awkward thing before, and as she'd only been on the island for a few months, she was still unused to a bed that rocked every time one moved. Still uncomfortable, she inched to the side, cursing inwardly when the hammock once again began to sway.
Moments away from setting the hammock, and the tree house, on fire, she began to raise herself. A presence, both cold and warm at the same time, washed over her, trickling its way down her spine. A shadow loomed in the small window, a fireball sprang to life in her upturned palm, though it remained there. She watched, warily, as the flickering light in her hand cast shadows over Pan's pale, angular features.
He watched her, one eyebrow raised mockingly, and raised his flute to his lips.
The melody, haunting and slow, drifted throughout the camp, making the boys pause in the midst of their revels. She listened with one ear, as the camp began to calm, the loud cheers and whoops of the boys below trickling to a halt. While Pan usually allowed them their freedom, letting them party and dance and fight and play games into the early hours of the night, sometimes even til dawn, tonight was clearly not one of those nights.
Felix was the first, with Luca and Rufio easily following afterwards. Soon, within minutes really, the center of the camp emptied, the ashes of the dying fire smoldering in the dark, as each and every lost boy slipped into bed, lulled by the sounds of Pan's flute.
Like them, Lilith was susceptible to the lure of the song Pan played so beautifully. "The first girl to hear it, the first lost girl," he'd bragged, a smirk gracing his pale features.
She'd longed to smack the smug smirk off his face, though was unable to refute his words. Pan's pipe, enchanted so that only certain boys could hear it, ones who felt unloved and lonely and lost, wasn't supposed to be able to affected her. But it does. The tune changed, growing darker, heavier, and she felt her senses begin to swim, to blur around the edges.
Emma wasn't sure what to expect when she entered the loft. She'd half expected her roommate to be out, either searching for her, or unaware that she'd planned to skip town. What she did not expect, was both Mary Margaret and Lillian waiting for her. "Oh," the older woman said airily, but with an undercurrent of emotion that Emma couldn't place, "Thought you'd left."
Without looking at Lillian, who was mutinously glaring at her through red-rimmed eyes, "Mary Margaret…." She began, words halting when her friend, her best friend, really, continued to speak.
"But I couldn't tell for sure, because you didn't bother to say goodbye." She glanced at Lillian, who looked on the verge of clawing Emma's face to shreds. Without a word, she placed her hand over the teen's trembling fingers. "Do you remember when I left? When I ran?" Mary Margaret finally deigned to gaze at Emma, unmoved by the guilt clouding the blonde's eyes. "What you said to me? You said, we have to stick together. That we're like… family."
That one word shouldn't have stuck in her throat the way it did. "Yeah. I'm sorry," she swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. "I shouldn't have left."
"You're right – you shouldn't have." The dark-haired woman's eyes narrowed accusingly. "So why, after everything, did you just go?"
"I don't want to be Sheriff." Emma began, hating that she sounded whiny. "I don't want people relying on me. I don't want this. Any of it."
"Then why the fuck did you take Henry with you?!" Lillian demanded shrilly, her hands tightening into claws on the table. She hadn't, in the past few months since her memories had returned, wished for her magic more than she did now. All she could do was grip the table, half-sure that she'd try to drive her hand into Emma's chest if she didn't.
Rather than remonstrate the teen for her language, Mary Margaret whipped her head round to stare at Emma in reproach. "You abducted him?!"
"...Maybe?"
"So, you don't want people to rely on you, but you took your son?" Mary Margaret demanded, incensed. "Now, that sounds like a stable home for him. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I want what's best for him."
"And running is what's best for him? Really? That's the best you can come up with?!" Lillian snarled, her face twisted into an unattractive grimace. "Why don't you just admit that running is what's best for you?"
"She's right, Emma. You're reverting into the person you were before you got here." Disappointment colored her tone as Mary Margaret tightened her grip on Lillian's hands. "And I thought you'd changed."
Having had enough of their abuse, even if she couldn't refute it, Emma fired back. "You thought wrong."
"Well, regardless, you have to do what's right for Henry now." Mary Margaret said, not even bothering to try and stop Lillian when the teen rose, tugging her hand from the teacher's grasp.
The blonde watched the teen warily as she approached. "What's that?"
Lillian merely sneered at her. "Oh, you're his mother. Maybe you ought to figure that out before the next time you decide to try and take him away from the people who love him." Bumping shoulders with the blonde, though it was obvious to all present that she wanted to inflict more damage, the teen stormed out of the apartment.
As the door slammed shut with enough force to make her teeth rattle, Emma turned wide eyes towards her roommate. Mary Margaret was staring at the door, one hand clenched into a fist, as concern and rage mingled in her eyes.
"Okay... what was that?"
Emma flinched when Mary Margaret's attention snapped back to her. "I realize you've been... distracted... but are you really that blind?" When Emma did nothing more than bristle, the other woman sighed. "Well, since it's escaped your notice, Lillian's been going through a bit of a rough patch."
"What are you talking about?" Emma blinked, glancing back at the door. "I mean, I know she's been having a rough couple of days -"
Mary Margaret snorted. "Days? Oh, Emma, Lillian hasn't been right for weeks." Pity flashed across the woman's face. "Ever since that day she went missing - the day we both went missing - somethings been off with her. She and Gold aren't getting along," at Emma's scoff of disbelief, Mary Margaret smirked knowingly at her. "I've known the girl since she was a toddler. Believe me, she's usually stuck to him like glue, and recently? She's been doing everything in her power to stay as far from him as possible."
"What does that have to do with Henry?"
"You do realize that Henry and Lillian don't just have a sitter/child relationship, right?" At Emma's blank stare, Mary Margaret exhaled loudly through her nose. "Lillian doesn't care about a lot of people, she never has. But when Henry came along, it was as if something clicked. They've been inseparable since the day Regina placed him in Lillian's arms." Her gaze hardened, and Emma, having never been on the receiving end of that stare, flinched.
"And now," she began, as Lillian and Henry, blocks away from the flat, sprinted towards each other and hugged one another desperately, "after everything Lillian's gone through, you tried to take the one person she loves unconditionally away from her."
Lillian stood behind Henry, keeping a firm hold on his shoulders. Despite the pressure, the boy refused to jostle her touch from him, as he knew this was the only way she could comfort herself that he was there and would remain so. After they'd spent a good fifteen minutes hugging, during which Lillian had lightly ghosted her hands along him, as if checking for injuries, they'd hightailed it the Inn, ending up at August's door.
"Hang on," the man called once Henry had knocked on the carved wood, vibrating beneath his 'sister's' hands.
The moment the door opened, Henry scorned ceremony and pushed his way in, forcing Lillian to follow. "August, please." He whirled to face the bewildered man. "I need your help. Emma wants to leave."
August caught sight of Lillian's mouth twisted into an unpleasant scowl at Henry's words. Wisely choosing to ignore her reaction, he instead focused on the clearly distraught boy. "What? Slow down."
"Y-you were going to make her believe." Henry rambled out as August shut the door carefully, unwilling to let anyone hear. "You have to."
"I know, Henry. I'm sorry. I… I failed."
Lillian raised a brow, managing to keep her voice steady despite the urge to rip someone's heart out. "Failed?"
"I tried to show her. At first it was my legs, and now… now take a look… at the unvarnished truth." Seated on the bed, he rolled up his sleeve, revealing the wooden arm to the surprised gazes of the two before him.
"It's wood."
August watched Lillian carefully, waiting for the moment when her pale eyes lit up in realization. "Yes.
Henry, on the other hand, was nearly vibrating with joy. "All of this… I was right." He turned to gaze up at Lillian, who tore her wide-eyed stare from August to the child before her. "The curse… it's real!"
"You're a smart kid." August's praise earned him another flat stare from Lillian.
"You're Pinocchio," she ran her eyes along his body, and they narrowed once she reached his face again. "While my memories are a little hazy, I seem to recall you being a ginger as a kid."
He gaze her a cheeky smile. "Ever hear of hair dye?"
"But," Henry began, drawing them back to the more important matter at hand, "why are you turning back to wood? Your story… you should be real."
"I'm changing back because… I haven't exactly been a good boy." August admitted sadly. "And… well… if the curse doesn't break…" He gestured to his leg and arm. "This doesn't stop."
"So, we show Emma that you're turning back into the puppet you were, and then, she has to believe." Both Lillian and August winced at the upbeat tone in his voice. "And, when she does, she could break the curse."
"Henry..." Lillian soothed a hand over his dark hair, raising her eyes to meet August's.
"I tried that. She doesn't want to see, so she doesn't." He looked away from Henry's wide, hopeful stare, unwilling to see his belief shatter. "There's nothing more that I can do. I-I'm getting tired. It's hard to ride and it's hard to walk." His hand fell to his covered chest, feeling his heart beating slowly beneath the layers. "Soon, it's going to be hard to breathe."
"So, we have to do something fast."
August was shaking his head. "There's nothing to do. And with what little time I have left, I want to spend it with my father."
"Marco."
August raised his eyes to meet Lillian's softening gaze. Struck by the memory of his first meeting with the sorceress, he recalled what he'd heard the Blue Fairy and Snow White saying afterwards.
"Lilith will be an asset, I assure you," Snow argued in the face of Blue's displeasure. This was the one thing the princess refused to budge on, despite the advice from their council.
"I know you posses a forgiving heart, Snow White, but Lilith is a villain -"
"No, she's not." Charming joined the argument, his blue eyes steely. "A villain would not have thrown herself into harm's way just to save Snow's life."
"She's not a hero," Snow agreed quietly, "but she's not evil, either."
Personally, from what he'd seen as a child and learned, he'd never considered the girl before him to be evil. She's not good, she's done too much evil for that. But maybe...
"Told you, you're a smart kid." August smiled sadly at Henry's fallen expression, unwilling to say anything more.
"So, everyone's giving up."
"I'm afraid that I don't have a choice." A sigh escaped August's chest, guilt pressing down on it, as he raised his gaze to meet Henry's. "I'm sorry, kid, but I'm out of Operation Cobra. Now, it's up to you, both of you."
Felix watched the lost boys scatter as Pan approached, face like thunder. While Pan had, and never would, abused the boys or hurt them, the warning he'd given the night before had been incentive enough for all to stay clear of him until he rejoined them himself. While used to his mercurial leader's moods, Felix still felt his skin prickle uneasily when Pan swept his eyes across the camp, over each lost boy, before settling on him.
"Pan," he greeted calmly once the shorter boy had stalked over, magic practically vibrating from his very skin. "Bad news?" Keeping his tone conversational, when Pan looked like that, was hard enough without the added effect of the glare his leader sent him.
Peter exhaled loudly, teeth bared in a snarl. Personally, Felix was convinced the green-eyed boy would crack any day now, and travel to Storybrooke himself. As a realm jumper, he had the ability, though needed the assistance of his Shadow. However, the magical barrier errected around Storybrooke, to keep the Evil Queen's captives both safe and isolated from the outside world, had proved harder to slip past than first thought.
The Shadow could do it, and Peter had several times now. However, the Shadow couldn't bring anyone back with it, and the last and only time Peter had tried, the trauma had nearly sent Lily into a magically induced coma. Thankfully, the medicine of the modern world hadn't let it go that far, and she'd recovered. The strain of entering the Land without Magic was horrible, but worth it, as long as he was able to see Lily.
He'd also been privy, the few times Lily hadn't seen him, to see exactly who her young charge was. Henry Mills reminded him a great deal of Baelfire, the comparison making his lips twitch at the irony. While her relationship with the boy was potentially problematic, he wouldn't worry over it until the time came.
Which, Felix was eying him like he expected to be attacked any minute. He merely nodded once at the question in his second's dark gaze and watched the other boy stalk into the Dark Jungle, club slung over his shoulder. Won't be much longer.
A shiver wracked down his spine, and he closed his eyes, waiting for his Shadow to slip into him. It didn't disappoint, and he inhaled sharply when the memories washed over him. He watched flashes of Lily, Rumple, little Henry Mills, the Evil Queen, and the Savior, until he managed to piece together the tangle of memories and emotions.
Lily's face easily caught his attention, bypassing all the others, and he felt his breath catch. Her expression, in almost all of the memories, was strained, her skin paler than he'd ever seen, and it looked as if there were permanent, bruised grooves beneath her bloodshot eyes. The sight made his blood boil, hate welling inside him for the man currently tasked with the young woman's welfare, and he resolved to teach Rumple a lesson if he saw him.
Not if, the slight quirk of his lips, barely revealing any of his teeth, should not have looked as feral as it did. When.
"You ate a cursed apple?" Lilith demanded, lowering her fingers from Snow White's temples. While her healing had improved by leaps and bounds ever since she'd gained a shaky control over her newfound abilities, she didn't trust herself with her inherited gift enough to do more than chase away the lingering terrors in the princess' mind. "And you let her?" Charming looked away, jaw set, while Red, Granny, and the Dwarves frowned at her tone. "What, in all the Realms, is wrong with you people?"
Heroes. She thought bitterly. Always have to do the 'right' thing. Personally, she couldn't exactly condemn Snow White for doing something she'd do in a heartbeat if it was Peter's life on the line. The idea of doing such a thing for Rumple barely crossed her mind, and she impatiently pushed the thought away, clasping her hands tightly on her lap.
Waking up, after days of no sleep, to hear Snow White screaming bloody murder, wasn't the worst way she'd been woken up before, but it definitely wasn't pleasant. And now, to hear that the woman before her had willingly eaten an apple doused in a sleeping curse, something Lilith had been instructed to stay far away from, made her skin crawl. Rumple had shown her the effects, she'd seen where you went while under the curse and even if you were awoken.
"There is nothing I won't do," Snow began, voice so shaky and quiet that Lilith had to strain to hear, "To protect the ones I love."
Leaving Henry alone, even for a few hours, was harder than expected. While logically, she knew he needed to go home for a few hours, to keep Regina in the dark about Emma's attempted 'abduction', her chest ached with every step the little boy took from her. She'd never be a mother, it was and never could be in the cards for her, but having Henry made that detail seems so small and insignificant.
She'd had Bae, once, and she'd managed to muck it up, like she did everything else in her life... other than magic. It is in your blood, Rumple had told her, his golden eyes bright. Light magic, of the highest quality, and yet you managed to envelope yourself in the darkest magics in the realm with little trouble.
Of course, Rumple had had an inkling of why that was. Her mother's deal with Peter, coupled with the dark magic she'd been cursed with herself, hadn't done wonders for her only daughter. Her grandmother's realm was traditionally ruled by the eldest daughter, as only they were borne with the family's magical gift. So, no surprise, Lily had been born with the magic, along with several other gifts that hadn't manifested until she'd been exposed to the darkest magic in all the realms.
The Dark One.
And she had never looked back. Not even when she'd been flung into another realm, one with a dark, possessive immortal, who promised to never let her go. Personally, with the experience of the World Without Magic, she knew the relationship she'd had with Peter hadn't been healthy, even by Enchanted Forest standards.
The need to be with him, to feel his presence, had become almost crippling after their separation, and she'd only had her magic to bury the ache and carry on. He'd felt it too, her empathy assured her of that, and she was almost afraid to find out what he'd been up to in the time she'd been gone. While not abusive to his lost boys, he had a temper, and once it was flared, it took almost a miracle for it to calm.
Which usually included Luca badgering me into tracking down Peter to make him stop sulking in his Thinking Tree. Sighing at the warmth those memories brought, she finished her walk to the pawn shop, slipping through the door. Gold awaited her, writing calmly in his books.
While still uneasy around him, she could feel the anger, the cold rage within her, settling somewhat. While she'd never forgive him, nor would she ever trust him completely again, she was ready for it to be over. She was ready for the Curse to break, for magic to return so she could kick Regina's ass across town, and so she could show Henry all the things she'd promised.
Now that she knew that she still housed magic within her, she could almost feel it. It felt a bit like a dwindling flame that refused to go out, creating a spark of life inside of her, and she held onto the feeling, allowing it to keep her going.
Gold looked up at the clack her boots made, the ghost of a smile quirking the edges of his lips. The expression was strained, as were his tired eyes. Something within her cracked at the sight.
"Rumple..." He looked up, his smile beginning to grow ever so slightly.
"I hope you bought travel insurance," Regina began, causing their attention to snap towards the doorway. The mayor smiled widely, gloatingly, as she strutted to them. "Because no one's going anywhere."
Gold tightened his grip on his pen, eying Lillian when she rounded the counter to flank his side. "Oh, really? And why's that?"
Regina smiled at his air of nonchalance, desiring nothing more than to watch him lose it. "Because I found a solution to my Emma Swan problem."
"Oh, yes?"
"An old, reliable solution."
Lillian felt her blood run cold, as Gold stiffened imperceptibly beside her. Finally setting down his pen, he slowly raised his gaze towards her, while Lillian snarled out, "A sleeping curse."
"Might we ask how you managed to obtain one here in Storybrooke?" Gold asked pleasantly, as if they were speaking of the weather.
Regina eyed him, mildly disappointed, but too pleased to truly care. "By sacrificing the last bit of magic I had left."
"So, you made magic from magic." He observed quietly, looking none too ruffled despite how Lillian was all but bristling with fury beside him. "Well, I'm sure I don't have to remind you that, uh, all magic comes with a price."
Hands flat on the counter, the mayor leaned forward, a snarl forming on her painted lips. "Then you can pay it." She snarled, "because now, the curse is going to be stronger than ever. And you will be right here where you belong." Pulling back, she followed him with her eyes as Gold rounded the counter, limping away from her. "Don't you understand? I won," she dogged his steps as he paused behind the adjacent counter. "So, whatever plan you had… whatever reason you wanted the curse broken… too bad." She caught sight of Lillian's face, almost stark white against her dark curls. "Because it's never going to happen."
Reaching out, she roughly spun the globe beside her arm. With one last smile, she turned and strutted away, unaware of the realization dawning in Lillian's eyes. Gold turned back to his ward, his eyes widening when she sprinted past him in a tumble of curls and leather.
"Lillian?" He called, hobbling after her as the door slammed into the inside wall, no doubt denting the plaster. "Lillian!" She ignored him, dark hair streaming behind her as she sprinted down the street.
Emma raced down the stairs, jacket in hand. Her eyes fell on the apple turnover, resigned relief filling her at the sight of the peace offering. While the meeting with Regina had exceeded her expectations in terms of pleasantry, she was still leery of trusting Regina to allow her access to Henry. A knock on the door drew her from her musings, and she strode to the door, revealing an expectant Henry.
"Hey, Emma." He entered the loft, turning to look at her strangely. "Everything okay? You sounded strange over the walkie."
Panicked quickly overtook her. "Oh, um… no, I'm okay. Just, um…." She tossed the jacket onto her growing pile of clothes and went to stand in front of her son. "Yesterday, when I tried to take you away, you were right. I can't take you out of Storybrooke." She admitted, heart leaping into her throat. "But I can't stay either."
"What?"
"I have to go."
"Go?" He repeated as tears began to well in her eyes. "You mean leave Storybrooke?"
She forced herself to nod past the heartbreak in his voice. "Yeah. I spoke to Regina, and we made a deal." She wasn't sure if the assurance in her tone was for him, or herself. "I'm still going to be able to see you, just not… every day."
Henry began to shake his head rapidly. "No! No, you can't trust her!"
"I have to, it's my only choice." She argued back, the lump in her throat growing. "It's what's best for you, Henry. Every time I fight her, someone else gets hurt."
"No, no, no!" He almost shouted, managing to calm himself down with his own logic. "You're just scared. This happens to all heroes. It's just the low moment before you fight back."
Emma fell to her knees before him, gripping his arms as her voice pitched in distress. "Henry! This isn't a story." She cried, holding back the urge to lightly shake him. "This is reality. And things have to change." She lightly pulled on his limp arms, voice lowering with every syllable. "You can't skip school, you can't run away, and… you can't believe in curses."
"Y-you really don't believe?"
"I…." A whimper escaped her lips at the heartbreak in his voice. "This is how it has to be right now. I made a deal," the tears began to fall. "And I used my superpower. She's telling the truth. She's going to take really good care of you."
Henry brushed off her assurances. "Yes, but she wants you dead."
"Come on, Henry!"
"You're the only one that can stop her."
Emma stood shakily, arms crossing as the ache in her chest worsened. "Stop her from what?" She demanded of her wide-eyed son. "All she's ever done is fight for you. It just… got out of hand. I'm sorry."
Henry stared at her, eyes searching and, when he couldn't see even a spark of belief, he bit back a whimper and rushed at her. A startled gasp tore itself from Emma's throat and she stumbled back, arms coming up to cradle her son tightly, if not a little awkwardly. Opening his eyes with a sniffle, Henry's gaze zeroed in on the turnover resting innocently on the table.
"Where did you get that?" He asked, slowly withdrawing his arms while Emma sniffled.
"Regina gave it to me." She explained as he eyed the pastry, nose suddenly wrinkling in disgust.
"Apple!"
"So?"
Henry whirled round to face her, eyes wide. "You can't eat that. It's poison."
"What?"
"Don't you see?" He asked, gesticulating wildly. "The deal… it was all a trick to get you to eat that, to get rid of the saviour."
Emma frowned at him. "Henry, come on. Why would she do that when I just told her I was going to go?"
"Because as long as you're alive, you're a threat to the curse."
"Henry," she tried, "you've got to stop thinking like this."
"But it's the truth! And you leaving isn't going to change that."
"I'll prove it to you." Emma reached for the turnover, only for Henry to snatch it from her hands.
"No!"
She watched him side-step her, going towards the other half of the island. "Henry… what are you doing?"
"I'm sorry it had to come to this." He held up the turnover, swallowing back his fear. "You may not believe in the curse… or in me," Emma winced at that. "But I believe in you." He took a large bite, silently praying that Lillian would forgive him when she found out what he did. As he swallowed, the door slammed open and Lillian, wide-eyed and terrified, ran into the room.
"Henry!"
Emma watched with bated breath, bewildered at the sight of tears in Lillian's eyes. As the seconds ticked by, and nothing happened, she slumped. "See? You want to have some ice cream with that?" She missed the panic on Lillian's face as the brunette held Henry by the shoulders. "And then we can go back to talking about…"
Her heart stuttered in her chest, breath catching, as Henry suddenly tilted to the left. Lillian let out a cry of horror, tears now spilling down her face, and caught him before he hit the ground.
"Henry?" Emma asked through numb lips as Lillian shook the boy, panic overtaking in her normally calm voice.
"Henry!" Lillian shouted, half-tempted to smack him, even though she knew it would do no good. Emma fell to her knees beside her, cradling Henry's limp head in her hands, her already pale skin now ashen.
"Henry!"
Thoughts? Comments? Questions?