"Show me Henry," said Emma, firmly. The mirror's surface swirled silver and blue, and a picture formed: the glow of a camp fire and three figures huddled around it. Emma gasped and Regina clutched her shoulder painfully as they recognised Henry.
"He's okay!" said Regina, her voice breaking slightly with relief. David and Mary Margaret hugged in celebration.
"Can he hear us?" asked Emma, and Gold and Regina shook their heads simultaneously.
"You can only communicate if there's a mirror in the place you're looking at, to establish a two-way connection," explained Gold. "We'll be able to hear them, but you can be as loud as you wish, they'll hear nothing."
"Where are they?" mused Emma, looking over the surroundings to find any clue as to their whereabouts. The forest surrounding their small camp looked identical to that around their own; there were no distinguishing landmarks that she could see.
"Here, kid." Greg's voice, coming out of the mirror as though he were right next to them, made them all jump. He handed Henry an apple, and bit into one himself.
"Rabbit's almost done," announced Tamara. Emma felt her heart burn with sudden rage at the sound of her voice. She flicked her eyes at Gold, but his face was expressionless.
"You two are gonna be sorry when my Moms get here," announced Henry fiercely, and Emma and Regina exchanged looks of glee at his defiance. "They'll find a way, you know. It's been two days. You should be running for your lives, not sitting here cooking rabbits."
"Keep it down, Henry," said Tamara in a bored voice. "There's no way for them to get here. Hook took the last bean, and if you think he'll use that to help anyone but himself you're crazy."
Hook placed a hand over his heart with a wounded expression on his face, making Mary Margaret roll her eyes.
"Yeah, well, you don't know my Moms!" shouted Henry, scrambling to his feet. "They'll come after me, and when they do they are totally gonna kick your butts!"
David snorted with laughter, and Gold's mouth twitched in amusement.
"Sit down!" ordered Greg, but Henry wasn't finished.
"And when my Grandpa's through with you, you'll wish you'd never been born!" he yelled. Gold grinned wickedly, then frowned as he saw Greg pull Henry to the ground again.
"Just shut up, and eat!" snapped Tamara. Henry glowered at her.
"You won't win," he said fiercely. "Good always defeats evil!"
"Good?" Greg's voice was sarcastic. "Is that how you'd describe them? This family of yours?"
"My Mom is good," insisted Henry. "She's done some evil things, but I know she's good inside. I know it!"
Regina bit her lip, tears pricking the back of her eyes, and Emma gave her a sympathetic look.
"They're murderers," said Greg coldly. "Liars. Heretics. Wielders of powers no human has the right to. We've done you a favour getting you away from them."
"Murderers?" Henry's voice was breaking as he struggled, trying to get away. He jabbed a finger at Tamara. "What about her? She killed my dad!"
"And Regina killed mine," said Greg fiercely, shoving his face close to Henry's. "Hurts, doesn't it?"
Henry started wiping away tears, then, and Regina decided death was far too good for his kidnappers. Well, a quick death, anyway. But first they had to get to them. She raised her hand, and a small light appeared at her fingertip. She blew gently on it, and it sailed towards the mirror and sank into its surface. Gold nodded approvingly. The others looked questioningly at Regina.
"It's a locator," she explained. "It'll travel to where he is, then return, and we can follow it."
The mirror's surface shimmered again, the picture disappearing and the reflections of the six people looking in replacing it. Emma sighed.
"At least we know he's okay," she said thankfully.
"And in fighting spirits, it seems," chuckled David. He put his arm around his daughter's shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry, honey. We'll get him back. They have no clue we're here. We just need the spell to work its magic."
Belle arranged several small bowls of ingredients on the workbench in the back of Gold's shop, checking them off on a piece of paper she held with the translated spell written on it. The day had dawned not long ago, but the two friends were already preparing the cloaking spell. Ruby had noticed straight away that Belle's eyes were red and puffy, and suspected that her friend had spent much of the night crying rather than sleeping. She had said nothing, but went straight out to get hot coffees and sticky doughnuts fresh from Granny's, which seemed to revive Belle. Ruby was torn between indignation at Gold on behalf of her friend and relief that she was still in Storybrooke, safe, and able to cast the spell that would protect them. If all went to plan…
"Okay," announced Belle. "I think we've got everything. Light the flame, Ruby."
Ruby lit the Bunsen burner beneath a glass jar suspended above it.
"You know, chemistry was never my strong point at school," she muttered nervously, and Belle shot her a look.
"As your memories of taking chemistry are entirely fake, try not to get too upset about it," she said dryly. "Now, put in the obsidian."
Ruby sprinkled a large pinch of black powder into the jar. Belle added the other ingredients; herbs, some pieces of bark, chimera scales and unicorn hair. She finished by lighting a thin wooden taper and setting fire to the pile of ingredients, already hot from the flame beneath the glass jar. The bark and herbs began to smoulder, small orange tongues of flame licking over the roughened surface of the wood.
"Okay, it needs to burn down to ash," she said. "It should only take a minute or so."
A pungent smoke started to rise from the burning ingredients, and Ruby wrinkled her nose at the smell. "Are you sure this is right, Belle?"
Belle sniffed. "Believe me, this is nothing. Sometimes I refused to let Rumple in the house after a day of potion-making. I threatened to hose him down in the yard once. I don't know why magic always has to be stinky." She looked in the jar, and poked at the remains of the ingredients with the end of a spoon. "Right, I think we're almost done. Where's the wine?"
Ruby picked up the bottle of wine, looking at it uncertainly. "I hope this is okay," she said. "It's organic, and I put it through two coffee filters, so I can't see us getting anything purer."
"It'll be fine," said Belle, reassuringly, rereading the spell. "Here – we need one cupful."
Ruby measured out the wine and carefully added it to the jar of ash.
"Okay," said Belle briskly. "Now we just let it boil for ten minutes and then I…" She cut off as she watched the mixture in the jar bubbling and seething, turning from a deep red to a thick black fluid the colour of liquorice.
"Is it – supposed to look like that?" asked Ruby nervously, and Belle looked over her translation worriedly.
"I – I'm not – no!" she said desperately. The two women eyed the potion warily as it boiled and bubbled. Suddenly the movement stopped and the potion seemed to shrink in upon itself. Ruby heaved a sigh of relief, before the jar burst apart with a bang and the force of an explosion threw them both backwards, splattering the shop with thick, sticky strands of potion. Breathing deeply, heart pounding with shock, Belle sat up, followed by her friend. Ruby put her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter at the sight of Belle. Her hair was standing on end and she was coated in black slime from head to foot.
"I don't know what you're laughing at," said Belle sarcastically. "You look just as bad."
"I guess Leroy was right to be worried," chuckled Ruby. "I don't think we'll be putting your boyfriend out of business any time soon."
Belle made noises of disgust as she wiped the sticky potion from her face. "I vote a shower and a change of clothes."
"Agreed."
The two friends left the shop, wincing as their footsteps squelched on the pavement. They parted outside Granny's and Belle headed up to her apartment, as it was quicker than going home to Gold's. It took three lots of shampooing to get the stuff out of her hair, but it was surprisingly soft and shiny afterwards. She chuckled to herself as she wondered whether she had discovered a beauty spell. When she entered Granny's to collect Ruby, she found her friend talking to Leroy.
"Leroy says he can get us some help with the spell," called Ruby, and Belle raised a questioning eyebrow at him. The dwarf shuffled his feet a little awkwardly.
"Nova," he explained. "She's a fairy. Here she's Sister Astrid."
Belle's face fell. "Here she's a nun? Oh, Leroy, I'm so sorry!" She put a hand on his arm, and he grunted uncomfortably.
"Don't matter. We have a lot of stuff to work through. She'll help though, I know it. She's good." His face was wistful as he strolled out of the diner. Belle bit her lip.
"What the hell was that?" asked Ruby, and Belle sighed and explained the story of Leroy's true love as she and Ruby walked quickly to Gold's shop to await the arrival of the dwarf and his fairy.
Emma strode apart from the campsite, wandering between unfamiliar trees and kicking a small rock in front of her. She was feeling unsociable; David and Mary Margaret were wrapped up in each other, Regina was chatting amicably with Hook, and Gold was off on his own, no doubt conjuring something or furthering his own interests. After her initial joy at seeing Henry alive and relatively unhurt, she was desperate to get to him and now just wanted to be alone. It was the first time in the few days since the terrible events in Storybrooke that she had allowed herself to think, to feel. She had confessed her love for Neal, just as she had lost him forever. The pain in her heart could not be ignored; she had always loved him, she still did. She wondered if she was cursed to lose everyone she loved; true, she had found her parents again, had found Henry, but now Henry was taken and her parents – they were headed into danger, who knew what would happen. She wanted to hit something in her frustration. Preferably Tamara. That bitch was not going to get away with betraying then killing Neal. Emma kicked the rock a little too hard and it sailed beyond the trees, out of reach. She let out a frustrated breath and leant back against the solid trunk of the nearest tree.
"Something you need to share?" Hook's voice made her start, and he slipped out from behind another tree. Emma grimaced.
"You know, for a guy in creaky leather pants, you can be stealthy," she remarked, and he grinned.
"Don't worry, Emma," he said comfortingly. "We'll find him."
"Why do you care?" asked Emma, curiously. "I thought you had only one mission in life. At which you failed. Why should you care what happens to my son?"
It was Hook's turn to grimace. "Maybe, being with you made me realise that I've wasted the past three hundred years," he shrugged. "Maybe I don't like to see you take quite so much on the chin." He smiled widely, and Emma gave him a sceptical look.
"Or maybe…?" she asked, and his grin widened.
"My, you're a suspicious one!" he chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. "Can't you just accept that I've been around a lot longer than you and I know exactly what you're going through?"
"I don't think you do," she said repressively, but he shook his head, moving closer.
"Let's talk about when you lost him. Your true love," he said quietly. "Not this time, that's too raw, too new, but the first time." He took a step towards her. "I imagine that you felt lost, bereft, like a part of your soul had been taken from you," he almost whispered. "You felt that you could never trust anyone, you could never get close to anyone. Oh, you'd have relationships, but it was one-sided, barriers up, never letting anyone in. Or else you'd get involved with men who would never want you for anything other than a fling, am I right? But all the time you never forget the one. You never forget him. No-one else can match up to him."
She stared at him stonily, not wanting to let him know how accurate his assessment of her life was. He leant forwards, arms pressed against the tree behind her, fencing her in. She could smell his scent: sea air, a faint whiff of rum, a smoky, musky undertone. His eyes were dark pools she could lose herself in, his earring gleaming in the faint light.
"Then you find someone to care for," he said softly. "Henry. And your love returns to you, only to be taken from you again. I think that's the saddest thing of all." He brushed her cheek gently with his forefinger, and Emma jerked backwards, bumping her head against the rough wood of the tree trunk.
"Don't," she whispered, and he smiled.
"Why not?" His fingers tangled in her hair, brushing it back from her face. She felt a sudden tug of desire in her belly. She was attracted to him, there was no denying that. It would be the easiest thing in the world to let him kiss her, to lose herself for a while. She took hold of herself.
"Because I asked you not to." She pushed his hand away. "I know you think we have this connection, but…"
"Of course we do. You admitted as much." He touched her face again, looked deep into her eyes, his voice soothing. "Emma, everything you're feeling, I've been there. I've known your pain and despair. I can help you. We can help each other." He leaned forward to kiss her, and Emma turned her head away, pushing him back.
"Really?" she said flatly. "And you followed me out into the middle of a dark forest to tell me this?"
"Well, I can hardly make my feelings known in front of your parents!" he protested. "I get the feeling they don't like me all that much." He grinned, a shark's grin, and leaned forward again. She held up a hand, stopping him.
"Okay, Hook, here's the thing," she began. "The fact that you lost your love, I get it. I get that you've missed her for all these years. I – accept – that we have a lot in common, I do." He smiled, sensing victory, but she shook her head, her voice growing hard. "Since we met, what I've learned about you is that you have spent the last three hundred years plotting revenge. That you've turned your coat time and time again, throwing your lot in with whoever you thought would get you your vengeance, no matter the cost to others. That you would shoot an innocent young woman just because she had the bad luck to love the man you hated. And you do all this in the name of what you call love. Well, I don't call it that. I call it psychosis. And I want no part of it."
He looked hurt, his face falling into lines of despair. "But I've changed, I promise you!"
"Really?" she asked, disbelievingly. "Were you undergoing a thorough session with Archie that I wasn't aware of? Was this before or after you kidnapped him? The fact is that I don't trust you. No-one here trusts you. And I don't see any reason why they should." She pushed at his chest and his expression hardened.
"You may not trust me, but you still want me," he said fiercely, and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment Emma let him kiss her. It was pleasant, more pleasant than she had anticipated. He tasted good, and the feel of his lean body pressed against hers was something she would have liked to explore. She contemplated kissing him back, but memories of Neal made her push him away. It wasn't time. His kisses became more urgent, and she began to struggle. His arms moved around her and she brought her knee up into his groin, hard. All at once he was ripped away with a cry, tumbling upwards, wrapped in vines that seemed to have descended from the tree. Emma scrubbed her hand across her mouth, breathing hard, and straightened up. Hook was ten feet above her, covered from head to foot in twitching vines.
"Miss Swan?" Her breathing slowed as she saw Gold step out from behind a nearby tree. "Are you alright?"
Emma put her hands on her hips. "Fine," she said acidly. "Were you spying on me?"
"Not at all," he said nonchalantly. "But, for some reason, I don't entirely trust our one-handed friend. I thought I'd follow him." He looked up at the swaying mass of vines.
"I've been dealing with assholes like that since I was thirteen!" she said curtly. "There's no need for you to get involved."
He shrugged. "I have a problem with men who try to force women to do things they don't want to."
"I don't need you to fight my battles for me!" she snapped, and he shrugged again.
"My apologies," he said easily. "Next time, just let me know when he plans to molest you, and I'll stand well back."
He started to walk slowly away, and she grimaced, muttering under her breath, then followed him, slowing her pace to match his.
"Do you think he's changed?" she asked quietly, and he barked a humourless laugh.
"Do you think I've changed?" he asked, with a grin.
"Yes," she said softly. It was his turn to grimace.
"Well, perhaps we're both trying," he muttered. "But one's true nature is hard to alter."
They reached the camp, and he left her, striding into the darkness along the sands. David and Mary Margaret looked up enquiringly as Emma approached, but she simply sat down beside them, accepting a cup of tea from Regina with a grateful smile. The strangest of alliances, the weirdest of situations. But she was here for Henry, and that meant she could deal with whomever she had to. It meant relying on magic to show them the way.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," announced Ruby dryly, as she held open the door. Leroy and Astrid hurried in, glancing curiously at the items cluttering the shelves of Gold's shop. Ruby led them into the back room, where Belle was cleaning up the last of the splatters of potion from the floor. She still couldn't work out how it had seemed to increase in volume so much when it had exploded; ingredients amounting to less than two cups had turned into what seemed like gallons of black slime.
"We had a bit of an accident," she explained, at Astrid's politely raised eyebrow. The fairy gave the two of them a sympathetic look.
"I understand," she said, a little breathlessly. "When I cast my first spell I blew off my eyebrows!" She looked at the floor uncomfortably. "And the Blue Fairy's," she added in a whisper. Belle giggled.
"Glad to know I'm in good company," she said, amused, and stowed her mop in its bucket. "Look, Astrid, Leroy says you may be able to help, and I really hope that's true. Has he explained to you what we're trying to do?"
Leroy squeezed Astrid's hand and threw himself onto the small single bed, folding his hands behind his head as he got comfortable. Astrid nodded, shooting Leroy a look and a warm smile, which he returned with interest. Belle shared an amused glance with Ruby and mouthed 'told you'.
"I don't know how much help I'm going to be," went on Astrid, self-consciously. "I've always found magic difficult. I'm so clumsy – I wouldn't want to mess anything up."
"You won't mess up," Leroy assured her. "You'll be amazing!" His eyes sparkled with warmth and trust, and for a moment Belle saw the sweet idealist Dreamy rather than the dour, cynical Grumpy staring out at the world. Astrid blushed and giggled under his scrutiny, and Ruby rolled amused eyes. Belle cleared her throat.
"Astrid, I really hope you can give us some idea of where we're going wrong," she began. "I'm trying to cast this spell, and I thought I'd translated it properly, but something's clearly not right." She showed Astrid the spell, and the fairy read over it quickly, nodding.
"I won't be able to help you cast the spell," she said, reluctantly. "Fairy magic is pure, and this – it wouldn't mix well. Besides, to cast it you need to…"
"I know," said Belle quickly. "I know now that Rumple always meant for me to cast it. I just need some help setting it up." Astrid nodded, obviously relieved.
"What ingredients do you have?" she asked, and Belle shrugged.
"What it said: unicorn hair, powdered obsidian, wine…I thought we had everything." She sighed, biting her lip. "Perhaps it was the way I tried to cast it…"
"Wine?" asked Astrid, confused. "Where's that?"
Belle's forehead creased in concentration as she bent over the book, and pointed to the relevant runes. Astrid put a hand to her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"That doesn't mean 'pure wine'," she said. "Although I can see how you mistranslated it. It's not 'wine', it's 'blood'. The runes are almost identical. That's caused some awkwardness in its time, let me tell you."
"Pure blood?" said Ruby, curiously, and Astrid smiled.
"Yes," she explained. "You need the blood of a virgin." She sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised, given the source of this particular spell." She held the grimoire between finger and thumb and as far from her body as possible, as though it were coated in dung.
"Virgin's blood," remarked Ruby, puffing air through her cheeks.
"Well, that can't be too hard, right?" asked Leroy. His voice was hopeful, and Ruby snorted.
"Don't look at me," she said, holding up her hands.
"Me neither," announced Belle, to Leroy's growing horror. "That ship sailed a long time ago."
"Yeah, she and Gold have been doing the nasty for ages," added Ruby, helpfully, and Belle chuckled at Leroy's stricken expression.
"Last time was just yesterday, very passionately," she put in, and pointed a finger at the bed, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Right where you're sitting, in fact."
"Eww, Belle!" complained Ruby, wrinkling her nose. Leroy jumped off the bed as though it had burned him, and Belle and Ruby giggled as he muttered something about 'essence of Gold', and whether he would need to burn his clothing. Belle gave a dramatic shrug.
"The world was ending!" she protested. "I was with the man I love! What were we supposed to do, play Scrabble?"
Astrid giggled nervously, although her cheeks were bright pink. Leroy made a good show of not being able to hear anything Belle was saying.
"So, how do we source virgin's blood?" asked Belle, looking around the group. "Do we just go around the town and ask people?"
"Definitely not Viktor," said Ruby fervently. "If there's anyone that'd be useless to us it's Storybrooke's resident man-whore." Belle bit her lip in amusement. "Not that he isn't cute," added Ruby, a little reluctantly.
"What about Archie?" asked Belle curiously, and Ruby pulled a face.
"I don't know, you know how it's always the quiet ones…?"
"Uh…ladies?" Leroy interrupted them awkwardly, running a hand over the back of his neck nervously. Belle and Ruby turned towards him with sudden, identical grins.
A/N – Awww! Bless Leroy's innocent little cotton socks. And I don't apologize for including Astrid – love me some Grova action. I was disappointed there was no Grumpy/Nova reconciliation in the second season.
Hands up who else thought Belle and Gold were totally knocking boots before the scene at the docks? I couldn't help thinking that Belle looked a bit rumpled (or should that be Rumpled?) by the side of the Jolly Roger (ahem). Like she says, in that situation, what would you do? (Actually, I wouldn't need the world to be ending to give him a right good seeing-to).
Okay, time to confess. I was planning on finishing this before season three started, but my pesky little Once muse keeps popping up and giving me ideas and bits of dialogue I just have to work with. Who am I to argue? So we may keep pottering about in this alternate universe by the time October rolls around. I'll do my best to keep it interesting.
If you enjoyed (or not, your call), please let me know…