Now follows two chapters with very little involvement from the new characters. These scenes were just too perfectly written for me to ruin.
Neal studied the strange mark imprinted on his palm. It had the shape of a triangle and outside every one of its three sides was a wave, equal in length to the side it was mirroring yet very different thanks to its shape. He wondered where he could possibly have received such a mark and why.
A knock on the door leading into the room caused him to look up. In the doorway stood a young man, probably in his early twenties. He had ginger hair and a hint of a smile played on his lips.
"Hi", he said. "You're Neal, right."
"That's right", Neal answered. "Who are you?"
"I'm Chris, I'm one of the people who should not be cursed but somehow is", the man responded and stepped inside the room. "Two of our friends are hospitalized in the room right across from here, so we sort of made it our headquarters."
Neal nodded, regarding him with utmost curiosity. Chris seemed familiar in a very strange way, almost as if he should know exactly who he was but every time he tried to grasp at the memory it slipped through his fingers like water.
"I probably shouldn't be here", Chris remarked, "but it's just... I'm sure I've met you somewhere before and, for some reason, I feel sad thinking about it."
Neal frowned.
"I feel something like that as well", he admitted. "Were you and your friends with us in the Enchanted Forest during the year we don't remember?"
"We think so", Chris answered. "People are acting strange around people they're not meant to know, like I am right now, so it's probably the answer to why we recognize each other... but I still don't know why I feel so sad when I see you."
Neal felt like he knew the answer and he wanted to scream it out at him, but somehow the words got stuck midway and not even he knew what he was meant to say.
Fortunately he did not have to consider it for long because Hook appeared, carrying a bowl of green Jell-O, which he placed on the table next to Neal's bed.
"Thought you could use some sustenance", he said. Neal smiled in amusement.
"Nothing like a green blob to get the appetite going."
"Well, I gather it has... great medicinal properties", Hook said, waving his hand at the dessert.
"I'm going to use that argument next time I'm sick", Chris said. "I think I'm going to go get one of those of my own; are they available down in the cafeteria?"
"Yeah, sure", Hook answered and watched as the ginger boy disappeared out through the door.
"So, they put you on babysitting duty, huh?" Neal asked, drawing his attention. "No one trusted me to stay here?"
"Well, we thought it best if you weren't out in the cold running after your father", Hook responded. Neal nodded.
"Thank you, by the way."
"What, for playing nanny?" Hook asked with a frown.
"For getting Emma the message to come back", Neal clarified. Hook's constant smile faltered somewhat.
"You would have done the same", he remarked and forced the corners of his lips up again.
"Yeah", Neal said and glanced down at the mark on his palm once again. "What's it feel like to play the hero after being a pirate for so long?"
"Unfamiliar", Hook admitted. "And you; how does it feel to play the villain?"
Neal raised an eyebrow at him.
"Oh, I'm the villain now?"
"If you truly had a hand in bringing your father back, I suspect you had to use the darkest of magic and paid an even darker price", Hook answered, "though I'm sure you felt the ends justified the means."
Neal considered his words before he grabbed onto the IV-drop and pulled it out of his arm with a hiss of pain.
"I should be out there looking for him", he said and swung his legs over the side of the bed, "to set things right, with him and my son."
He grabbed his long coat and walked around the bed, only to find the notorious pirate captain blocking his way.
"Question is, are you going to stand in my way?" he asked. Hook fired off his general smile.
"I am in your way", he remarked. Neal studied him in silence, wondering how he could best walk past him, before Hook suddenly moved forward and wrapped his regular arm around him, giving him a bone-crushing hug. Neal frowned in surprise, unable to return it properly as he tried to understand what was happening.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his voice somewhat muffled by the fact that he was speaking into the pirate's leather-clad shoulder.
"This is long overdue", Hook responded and, slowly, pulled back. Neal was surprised to see that he had tears in his eyes.
"Sometimes when I look at you, all I see is a man", the pirate said. "I forget, then... beneath it all you're still that boy, the one I looked after all those years ago."
Neal swallowed, feeling as if he was once again a young teenage boy sailing the waters outside Neverland onboard the Jolly Roger, with Hook, no, Killian Jones teaching him how to steer among the waves.
"I haven't forgotten", he said, managing a smile.
"We got caught up in so much nonsense over... a woman."
The pirate blinked to keep the tears at bay and Neal felt the urge to hug him once again. For the past few months, not counting the lost year that he could not remember, they had been fighting over Emma, when they were really friends. Good friends, at that.
"I need to do this, Killian", he remarked. "You know that, right?"
Hook nodded.
"You have ten minutes; then I'll alert the others that you've gone."
Neal smiled and squeezed his shoulder in thanks.
"Thank you."
With those words he passed him and, with hurried steps, walked out of the hospital.
Regina's choice of high-heeled boots might not have been the best thing to wear when scouting the perimeter of the farmhouse. At least the snow had melted away over night, but that still did not mean it was easier for her to walk on the uneven ground. However, she was and always would be the Queen, and the Queen did not arrive without her style.
She had been up here for almost an hour now but found no traces at least on the outside of the house or down in the basement of where the Witch might have taken off, what her plans were or what she had been doing while staying here, except for keeping a few prisoners. For someone as impatient as Regina Mills such a result almost made her give up and she was walking down the driveway, away from the house, ready to do just that.
That was when she heard a twig snap behind her. It caused her to stop and turn around. She doubted it was the Wicked Witch; she would not be so careless or cowardly as to not step out and face her opponent. More likely it was one of her winged monkeys. Regina quickly prepared a fireball in her mind, which would materialize in her hand the moment the beast appeared.
"Show yourself, you winged freak!" she ordered. She had hardly finished the sentence when a man stepped out from behind the thick bushes between the house and the sheds and fired an arrow at her from a crossbow. Reflexively she moved aside and caught the arrow in her hand – it was, after all, not the first time someone had done this towards her. It still caused her temper to flare, though, and she turned her head to glare at the man. He raised his hand, palm facing her, as a sign of peace.
"Apologies, my lady!" he called, his accent British. "I thought you were the Wicked Witch."
While he spoke she was surprised to find him walking towards her. He certainly had a nerve, but then again, she did not recognize him; maybe he did not know her, either.
"And I thought you were a flying monkey", she called back at him, sounding annoyed. He lowered his head as if bowing slightly towards her.
"I do hope my mistake hasn't cost me my head, Your Majesty."
"So, you know who I am?" she asked, feeling surprised. The man had now almost reached her and she studied his appearance as he took the final steps; thick, light-brown hair, a matching, well-tended short beard and moustache, slightly tanned skin probably due to spending time outdoors. He wore sturdy boots, a dark shirt, a green scarf around his neck as if he was in the Wild West, and on top of it all an open green, quilted jacket. In a way she actually thought he looked quite handsome.
"Your reputation in the Enchanted Forest proceeds you", he now said, stopping in front of her with a cheeky grin.
"I didn't catch your name", she remarked.
"Robin of Locksley, at your service", he responded and held out his right, glove-clad hand towards her, palm upwards and thus most likely not asking for a handshake but for her to hand back the arrow she had caught. She considered not to do so, but then something spurred her into continuing this discussion with him. Also, the name Robin of Locksley rang many bells in her mind.
"A thief", she thus remarked as she placed the arrow in his hand.
"Well", he said as he placed the arrow back in its quiver, "as we're tossing labels around aren't you technically known as the Evil Queen?"
Her smile faltered while the teasing glint in his blue eyes grew.
"I prefer Regina", she said, her voice harsh. It only made him smile, which made her curious; she had never met anyone who would banter with her like this and not get annoyed or angry. Who was he, really?
"You think you can bring down the Wicked Witch with sticks?" she asked, indicating at his crossbow. Robin of Locksley, also known as Robin Hood, was after all a skilled archer; maybe insulting his skills would remove that teasing glint and smile from his eyes and face. He looked down at his weapon, hesitating, before answering her.
"Well, I'm certainly going to try."
He looked back up at her again, his blue eyes meeting her with defiance. He was serious about what he was saying.
"I'm afraid we're too late", she remarked, hoping he would take the bait and leave her to her own investigation. "She's long gone."
"Well, perhaps she left a trail", Robin responded. The fact that he even thought of that, the same thing she had been thinking about, took her by surprise.
"I was hoping the same thing", she admitted.
"Well, then you've got yourself a partner."
She stared at him, gazing into his blue eyes and wondering why the depth of them made her feel dizzy. In the end she had to evade them, by any means, and the only one she could come up with was to walk around him in order to get closer than he was to the farmhouse.
"I don't remember asking for one", she said.
"You didn't", he said behind her back, causing her to stop and slowly turn. To her surprise she saw his eyes dropping down her body and then, with a new, cheeky smile, return to meet her own. Was he checking her out? The intensity of his gaze caused butterflies to appear in her stomach; she had not had butterflies in her stomach for she did not know how long.
"Just... don't get in my way", she warned, feeling a smile creep up on her own face.
"I wouldn't dream of it", he responded. Those words, they sounded so strikingly familiar when spoken in that tone, with that voice, with that accent, that her smile faltered once more.
"Have..." she begun with a frown, "have we met before?"
He smiled at her before he answered.
"I doubt I'd ever forget meeting you."
There it was again, the cheeky smile where he pulled up only one corner of his mouth in her direction. It set her off balance and made her want to avoid his gaze.
"Unless, of course, it was during that pesky year no one can recall", he said, walking past her and allowing a scent of pine forest hit her nose, "which is all the more reason to find this Witch."
She smiled as she followed him towards the house and found him turning towards her with a smile of his own as he continued to talk.
"Perhaps she can offer some insight into our lost memories."