(AKA, in which a familiar object from Beauty and the Beast makes an appearance. Also, I apologize for more angst in this one. I don't even know if I can really call this a drabble. Sorry that this probably wasn't what you wanted, but again, it needed to be written.)

Neither of them want to admit to it at first. Whenever they are confronted with evidence of it, they push it to the back of their mind, preferring to press forward in their quest and not allow the newfound fears creeping into their heads to bother them. But two days after their kiss and Mary's nightmare, that thing in the back of their minds becomes impossible to ignore.

They are being followed.

Mary isn't sure how or why, but several of Regina's Black Knights have been pursuing them. They could surely overtake them if they tried, but either they are waiting for something or simply gathering information to take back for their Queen. Both she and Killian are at a loss for why. Yes, Killian had managed to kill one of the guards before they'd made their escape, but surely that should not warrant the Black Knights following them? Regina must have other things on her mind than avenging one knight that was killed by two intruders weeks ago...

Still, their new shadows make them uneasy, and Killian reluctantly decided that it would be better if, for a while at least, they traveled only at night in order to ensure their safety. His hope was that they would lose the Black Knights sooner or later, that Regina's henchmen would grow bored of stalking their prey and return to report to her whatever it was she was so desperate to know. Mary agreed with Killian, albeit reluctantly, and so the two tried to settle into their new uneasy routine. They sleep during the day, waking at dusk in order to continue their journey under cover of darkness. Sometimes Mary hears Killian slip away, often returning with food he either foraged for in the forest or somehow bartered for at one of the houses that dot the forest, few and far between. It is difficult at first, but they soon grow used to it, turning to each other more than ever for comfort. It is not easy, but none of this has been, not from the beginning. Part of Mary knows that it never will be.

Still, she isn't expecting one night to wake up and see Rumpelstiltskin sitting cross-legged before them, watching expectantly. Mary gasps, stirring to life as she sits bolt upright, staring at him. She hasn't seen hide nor hair of the Dark One since the night he threatened Killian, and part of her is terrified that he has come to make good on his promise. I need more time, she thinks frantically. You have to give us more time!

"Rise and shine, dearie!" he crows, startling Killian out of a sound sleep. He awakens with a shout as soon as he realizes there is an intruder in their camp and reaches for his sword, but with a wave of his hand Rumpelstiltskin sends it flying from his grip. It lands a few feet away as Killian stumbles to his feet, all but growling at the Dark One. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demands.

"Just checking in," Rumpelstiltskin trills, getting to his feet as well. Mary is too stunned to move for a moment, never taking her eyes off the creature for a second, not trusting what he might do. "I just came by to see if I could provide a little..extra motivation."

"And just how do you plan to do that?" Mary asks, her voice haughty.

His eyes sparkle with mirth and cunning. "I thought I might remind you just what it is that you're fighting for." Mary's brow furrows in confusion, and he chuckles to himself, drawing an object out of the folds of his cloak. "How would you like to see them?"

Mary's throat goes dry, and she is suddenly dizzy. "See who?" she asks, not even giving Killian a chance to protest before she answers.

Her eyes fall to the object in the Dark One's hands. It's a small hand mirror, elegantly carved and gilded in gold. A single rose is etched on the back of it, and although the glass seems weathered in places she can see her reflection shining back at her clearly. It is slightly shocking, the sight of her—dirt smudged here and there on her face, her hair a tangled braid. If her mother were to see her now, she'd surely faint.

Mama…

Rumpelstiltskin smiles, a sinister smile that tells Mary that he knows exactly what she is thinking. "Your family," he says matter-of-factly.

Her heart leaps, but she forces her face to remain calm, not wanting to fall for another one of his tricks. She gets to her feet somewhat shakily; Killian reaches for her as if to steady her but pauses, his hand outstretched, apparently rethinking his move. The Imp only looks delighted at this new turn of events. Mary takes a step forward and Rumpelstiltskin steps to the side. "You can do that?" she asks, her voice even and unreadable.

"Oh, yes, dearie. I certainly can. All you have to do is take it." He holds out the mirror, waiting for her to make the next move. "Would you like to?"

"Yes."

The word flies from her lips before she can even think, a knee-jerk reaction that steals the breath from her lungs. The urge to see her family after so long is so overwhelming that her hands shake as she takes the mirror from his grasp and holds it in her trembling hands. She can feel Killian's eyes on her but does not—cannot—turn around. She can't bear to see whether the look he is giving her is one of disappointment or hurt.

She stares down into the glass, but all she can see is her own reflection. "Why isn't it working?" she demands, her voice almost shrill. Beside her, Killian stiffens.

"Patience, dearie," the Dark One advises. His voice is almost gentle. Mary feels as if she knows why he's offering this to her, but she can't help herself all the same. "This mirror will show you anything you wish to see. Just think of your family, dearie…think of them and wait."

She bites her lip and looks down into the mirror again. For a moment, nothing happens. Mary can feel her hope slipping away by the second.

"Please," she whispers, so quiet she isn't even sure her companions can hear her. "Show me my family."

Nothing.

Then, before her eyes, her reflection begins to blur. It's slow at first, her image fading and rippling out like waves upon a pond. As she watches, her own face is replaced by another, one she recognizes even with the haggard appearance and new worry lines around the eyes. Her breath catches again, and the picture before her blurs as Mary's eyes fill with tears.

"Papa," she whispers.

He's standing by the fireplace, staring into the flickering flames below. Her mother is seated on the settee, her face pale and drawn as well, and looking a bit thinner than when Mary saw her last. She feels a pang of guilt at the realization that it is her who has done this to them, worrying about her disappearance transforming them into the image she now sees. Cora's hands are clasped tightly together in her lap, her lips a pale, thin line. Edith sits next to her, looking distressed as well, dark circles smudged under her eyes as if she has not been sleeping. That, more than anything, shocks Mary to her core. She had always thought that if anything were to happen to her, Edith would rejoice, or at least not even care…she must have been wrong.

She hears a rustling by her side, and in that instant Killian is right beside her, his breath warm on her neck as he too peers into the looking glass. Mary isn't sure at first if he can see what she sees, but she hears his breath catch just as she did and she knows that he can see them too. For some reason, this makes her feel worse. I'm so sorry…

"How do we know this isn't something you've conjured up?" Killian demands suddenly, his voice a dangerous growl. "How do we know this isn't a trick?"

Rumplestiltskin grins at him. "You don't," he explains, pointing to Mary. "But she does."

Mary does not move, continuing to stare down into the mirror's surface. Her heart seems to slow within her chest, her eyes filled with tears, her face expressionless. In the mirror, Sybil is nowhere to be seen, probably at the hospital drowning her sorrows in work. Mary's heart clenches at the realization, wishing there was some way to speak to them, some way to reach between worlds and let them know that she is all right…

There is a sound to Cora's left, and suddenly he paces into view.

"Matthew."

Killian stiffens beside her once again, as if the sound of another man's name has hurt him in some way, but Mary cannot take her eyes away from the glass. Out of all of them, he looks the worst. His suit is rumpled as if it was pulled on quickly, and his hair stands on end rather like he has been pulling on it in agitation. The deep purple circles under his eyes are even more prominent than Edith's, and he paces like a caged animal, making Mary's heart hurt. "It doesn't make sense," he says to them. "How can a woman just disappear into thin air?"

Robert sighs heavily, and Mary gets the distinct feeling that they've discussed this before. He opens his mouth to speak, but Matthew cuts him off. "How can Carlisle be satisfied with that explanation? How can he want to call off the search?! Mary did not—she could have not just walked off! She wouldn't just leave! She took none of her belongings with her, she told no one—she would have at least told Anna where she was going, for heaven's sake! How can that man believe that Mary did this of her own choosing?!"

"Matthew, please, sit down," Robert says wearily. "I don't know why Richard Carlisle believes that Mary does not want to be found, but he's convinced that a search will turn up nothing. Thankfully, he does not have the power to call it off, I do. Mary is still my daughter, and I will do everything in my power to assure that the proper measures are taken so that she is found. All right?"

"No, not all right!" Matthew protests. "Mary needs us. Surely there's more that we can be doing…"

"Matthew, dear, you're only getting yourself worked up," Cora cuts in. Her voice seems weak and weary as the rest of them, but she pastes on a smile for Matthew's sake. "Why don't you go and see Lavinia? Doctor Clarkson came to check on her this morning and said she was asking for you."

So Lavinia is ill. Mary wonders what else she has missed in her absence.

Matthew runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head. "I'll go and see her later," he says absently, and Cora sighs.

"I know you miss her," she says softly. "We all do. But you can't work yourself to death trying to find her, Matthew…"

"Cora's right," Robert says. His voice is low and careful, as if he is speaking to a child or a skittish animal. "Let the police handle it, Matthew. It's their job."

Matthew shakes his head vehemently, his eyes shining with conviction. "No," he says simply. "I will not rest until she's safe and sound."

Before Mary can hear what her parents have to say to that, the image starts to blur once again. "No!" she cries out, watching in horror as the ripples distort Matthew's face before replacing it with her own, tearstained and pale. "No, no, come back!"

"That's it, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin says softly. "Now, you see what it is you're fighting to get home to?"

Mary cannot find the words to answer him. Beside her, Killian sits still as a stone, his eyes expressionless as he stares straight ahead.