Three days later.
"Well," Apple interrupted, her long black hair sitting in a high pony tail that cascaded down her straight back, "I mean, she's still your best friend, you and mom just went through a rough patch 35 years ago, but she's really sorry she locked you up. Really!"
Pulling to her full height as she sat at the kitchen table of the small cabin they'd taken her to, Maleficent sneered, "We've gone over this Little Girl, but perhaps you've forgotten, I died down there thanks to your mother's curse!"
Blushing redder than her name, Apple had to concede her point, "Yeah, but she's really broken up about that, honest."
"I think," Neal tried from his place at the kitchen counter assembling their dinner, "what Apple is trying to say, is that in the future, you and Regina get past it and rekindle your friendship."
"Exactly!" The dark haired teen smiled, "I mean, you're my Auntie Mel, and you did bless me with fairy magic to be the fairest of them all—which apparently really caused a ruckus when Neal's mom found out." She smiled over at her fiancé, who wisely remained silent.
A sudden snap of Maleficent's fingers caught their attention, but the beautiful blond wasn't smiling. "Spare me. I want to know more about my part in this plan to free your friend."
"Apple," Neal interjected, rounding the rough counter, "switch places with me. You just need to chop the carrots."
"But why?" She nearly whined, standing reluctantly with her hand on her hip.
Taking her shoulders, Neal gave her a gentle push towards the kitchen, "Because you'll go off on a tangent if you try to explain again."
"She's my best friend, Neal!" The young woman shot back, but she begrudgingly accepted the task of chopping vegetables for the stir fry they were making.
"I know," Neal offered, taking her place at the kitchen table, "But something tells me, Mel is looking for the short version."
"Very astute," Maleficent leaned back in her chair, "for a prince."
Neal couldn't help but chuckle, "If I only got a dollar every time someone…never mind. So here's the short version," he rested his elbow on the table as he relaxed into the telling, but his expression was tight and filled with sadness. "Tomorrow night, you're going to bring down the barrier surrounding the town. That will allow Rumplestiltskin, Cruella, and Ursula, along with some of our friends to cross into Storybrooke. Once the other three have their magic, we'll explain the situation to Regina and my sister, and then release Anna."
Maleficent nodded slowly, thinking carefully, "Anna, your friend, who is also a legendary Fate, capable of crafting a person's fate by will alone." Neal nodded, and he saw a teary expression cross Apple's face as she paused in her chopping as her memories drifted back to their lost friend.
"Anna imprisoned herself in, well in something like a bubble in time. It allowed you, and the other magic users in our time, to pinpoint where and when to send us so we could fix the timeline my sister and Killian broke."
"Your sister," Maleficent pointed one long finger at him, "the Savior, Emma, daughter of Snow White and her boy toy."
Behind her, Apple scoffed, "Nice one."
Neal glared at her, but she shrugged, her feelings for his family never having fully warmed, "Basically, yes."
"So," she smiled wickedly, "the Savior actually destroyed time. Now that's devilishly ironic. I actually like that ending to this twisted tale. Sounds like a perfectly evil ending to me, so, tell me, why should I help you?"
"Because," Neal reasoned, "Anna can spin a person's fate, and if you help her escape, she can give you the one thing you've always wanted."
With a roll of her eyes heavenward, Maleficent asked the obvious question, "And what might that be?"
Apple's voice was soft, but Maleficent turned fully in her seat upon hearing her words, "A happy ending, Auntie Mel, Anna can spin you your happy ending."
Her chin lifted with attention, and suddenly, she snapped her fingers and the vegetables were no longer in the kitchen, but stirred and fried, and in a heaping bowl before all three of them, now sitting at the table, watching the steam rise from the delicious smelling dish. Wasting little time, Maleficent took the serving spoon and portioned out their meal to first Apple, then Neal, and finally herself. Taking her fork into her hand, she smiled at Regina's daughter, "Looks like I'm saving the princess this time."
Apple too picked up her fork, "Technically, she's not a princess, yet." When she looked up, both her aunt and her fiancé were openly staring at her. "What? She isn't."
Neal sighed and shook his head, a soft smile on his lips.
"Are we there yet, Liam?" Little Roland was sitting in the back seat between Liam and Marion, and Liam gave his shaggy hair a good ruffling.
"Not yet, but we'll be there tomorrow night. Are you excited to go home?"
"Yeah," the toddler yelled too loud in the small car, and Roland watched his father drive the rental across yet another state line. They'd spent the last five days in the car, traveling for as long as his younger self could manage before settling into a hotel room for the night. He was exhausted, but anticipation hummed through him as he knew it did Liam as well. They were almost home.
"Think you can manage a few more hours in the car today," Liam asked, and from his place in the passenger seat, Roland watched the boy lose some of his enthusiasm before nodding his head reluctantly. Proud of him, Liam leaned over and kissed his curly hair before pulling a game cartridge out of his breast pocket. "Who's up for a little more Pokémon Silver?" Instantly, Roland perked up, and quickly loaded the offered game into the player Liam had wisely thought to get before they'd started this grueling trip.
Smiling charmingly at a frowning Marion, Liam looked towards the front of the car and offered a real smile, beautiful for all its exhaustion, to him. They hadn't slept properly in days, running on coffee and adrenaline. Roland returned the look to his longtime partner, sharing in the excitement of being so close to Storybrooke.
So close to, Anna.
"Once we get to the town line, how exactly do you plan to cross it? You can't even see it." It was the same question his father had been asking since they got on the road, and just as before, Roland ignored the question. Incensed, Robin pressed, "I'm not going to just—"
"Yes, you are." Losing patience with his father had been something Roland had been practicing his entire life. When he was younger, it had been confused feelings of frustration that had spurned his violent outbursts. Rages that only quieted when he was practicing his sword skills, defending Anna, or babysitting Liam. As he'd gotten older, his propensity towards violence had only increased, and it wasn't until Liam's tear stained and bruised face had been pressed into his shoulder, that he'd realized where all his anger had come from.
Focusing it on his father was habit; Robin was strong, he could take it.
The car was silent then, except for the sounds coming from the game being played in the back seat.
A dozen people had been through her prison over the last few weeks, but just now, only Bae's mother and sister were sprawled across the adjoining couches, a stack of empty books at their feet. They'd decided to leaf through all of the empty books on the off chance one of them contained something of value, Anna could have saved them the trouble if they'd been able to hear her.
The loss of a lifetime of weaving had hit her harder than expected, and depression had caused her to retreat to her bed once again to sleep away the time. But Henry returned every day, and Anna found that even though he couldn't see her, she felt joy at just knowing he was there and would rouse herself to sit close to him, imagining she could see Bae's features as he concentrated.
Good days were when Regina entered the library. Her best friend's mother had always been kind to her, treated her like another daughter, and it warmed her nearly as much as seeing Apple would have. Those days, Anna would kneel next to Regina's chair, her head pressed against Regina's thigh, and though neither one of them could feel it, the familiarity of it helped ease the ache in her heart.
Bad days were when Killian arrived to pretend to search the stacks for information, but in reality only eyed Bae's sister like a piece of meat. What Emma saw in him, Anna would never understand. Too often for her taste, Henry would wander outside the library, and Killian would swoop in to devour Emma's eager mouth with kisses, and Anna would once again retreat to her bed and hum to herself to drown out their heated noises.
"Did Regina mention if she found anything useful at Gold's house?" Snow White queried her daughter from the lounger. Anna's ears perked up, and she wandered over to the little reading nook and took a seat in one of the empty chairs.
Emma's blond head nodded, "Yeah, though nothing about the hat. She said she found Belle on the floor in the kitchen, passed out. Apparently she's been hitting the bottle hard since she forced Gold out."
Confusion passed over Anna's features. Belle wasn't a heavy drinker? Then she remembered the single remaining strand of gossamer thread that still ran from her wheel to one of the empty books, high on a self that Bae's sister had yet to discover. Memories of two different times warred in her mind, and then she sighed, because in the world Emma had built, Belle had been an alcoholic, and Anna had paid the price. It left her with the strangest sensation, of love for the woman named Belle; and of hate. The hate was shocking, but understandable given the world Marion's presence had made.
"That's terrible," the fair queen replied, shaking her head sadly. "I know Belle's been having a tough time, but for her to be in such a state, I just feel awful for her."
Anna pushed her suddenly dark thoughts away, now wasn't really the time to try to reconcile her two histories.
"Yeah it is. Say what you want about Gold, but Belle's a sweetheart. She deserved better."
Anna scoffed, and rose from the chair. Belle's name always caused her pulse to race, and she was feeling the familiar cold chill of a panic attack.
What? No it didn't? Anna slammed her eyes shut, trying to block out the disappointment, fear, and rage she felt towards her mother.
"I know," Snow continued. "What did Regina do?"
Emma shrugged as Anna wandered back unsteadily towards her wheel. The knee high piles of gossamer strands had long since been burned in the Everfire, the fate of those she knew and did not, consumed by the heat. "She said Belle was incoherent, so she put her to bed and sent Dr. Hopper to check on her."
"I'll go see her tomorrow, maybe I can get her to go to lunch at Granny's with Ruby and I."
With a flick of Anna's wrist, her wheel began to spin. She did not use magic on it, she no longer wanted to spin the fates of men. But there was comfort in the spinning wheel; the sound the wood made reminding her of better times, when her father would spin gold thread for her hair, and her mother would…
Suddenly, an image flashed across her mind's eye, and excitement replaced her melancholy as she moved to her paints for the first time in months. Behind her, mother and daughter continued to talk, but Anna no longer heard them. Instead, with a steady hand, she set quill to thick paper and let her talent overwhelm her.
Hours later, the library was blessedly empty, and Anna blinked back the darkness to look down at her work.
On the page, as clear as a photograph, was a picture of a woman with mocha skin and dark hair, standing before a swirling portal of yellow, with a terrified expression on her face. A long broadsword was pointed at her chest as her hands were outstretched to ward off an attack. But what was oddest of all, was the delicate pale hand grasping the broadsword's blade. The razor edges had sliced into the palm of the hand, and a few drops of blood were dripping from the frame; and on the finger of that fair left hand, was a ruby ring.
"Do you have any idea what kind of damage you've done to your child?! Those PSA's about drinking while you're pregnant aren't just to fill air time!" Regina was pacing directly outside the master bathroom, listening unsympathetically while Belle Gold retched into the toilet. "Do you have any idea what kind of birth defects you could cause? Poor growth, damaged sight or hearing, learning disabilities, alcohol dependency! I know you're hurting, but this is just self-destructive stupidity!"
From inside the open room, the toilet flushed, and a few seconds later, a disheveled and foul smelling brunette emerged to glare deathly at the Evil Queen. "I don't need a lecture from you."
"Obviously you do!" Regina interrupted, and was surprised that as she stalked towards Belle, the smaller woman retreated. Still, she was too angry to back down, "I don't care how messed up Rumple made you, he's twisted all of us around his little finger; some more than others. But somehow the rest of us restrained ourselves from poisoning our unborn child! He's gone, you kicked him out, but it's not this child's fault that you're bad at picking husbands!"
A little life came into Belle's eyes at the mention of her husband, and she took back the ground she'd lost, "I don't need a lecture on men from a woman who had to force them to sleep with her before trading up for a married one!"
If Regina felt any pain at the jab, she didn't show it, "No, you need a lecture on common sense. What in the hell were you thinking?!"
And then, as if a switch had been flipped, all of the fight fled from the smaller woman, and before Regina's eyes, she seemed to shrink. Her head fell with her shoulders, and her body began to visibly shake. "It doesn't matter," her voice came out weakly, "I'm getting rid of it."
"You're what?" Shock paled Regina's face, "You can't be serious."
"Of course I'm serious," Belle tried to bite back, but it felt flat and lifeless as she moved to crawl onto the torn up bed.
Sense came back to Regina all at once, and she spun on Belle, "As much as I hate to admit it, Rumple isn't about to spend his life powerless. It's only a matter of time before he finds a way back to Storybrooke, and when he does, if he finds out, you, that you—"
"That I killed his baby," Belle ended weakly, curling into a ball on the dirty sheets.
"He'll kill you, Belle. No mercy, no warm fuzzy feelings of wedded bliss, he'll strike you down where you stand and take the rest of the town with you for letting you go through with it."
Belle's cold, defeated, response was muffled against the pillow, "Good."
Author's Note: Lots of players in this story, new things revealed. Did you guess right on who everyone was? I'm curious, which set of characters has you most intrigued? Thanks to everyone who favorite, followed or reviewed this story. I love trying to work reader suggestions into the story, so if there's something you want to see these characters do, feel, or say, please let me know!