DISCLAIMER: I do not dare claim any ownership for the fabulous characters, situations, plots and/or spins on old stories that ABC's geniuses have given us on Once Upon a Time.
This is a what-if story: The way I figure, something DID jog his memory that night in the pawn shop…but it wasn't the windmill…Boy is that summary OLD!...but oddly enough, it still fits because Aaaaaaaaaall of this, is what I believe WOULD have happened if James hadn't seen that damn windmill!
In the shadow of the toll bridge
The thing about portals…
The hospital was still in a state of complete disarray as Philip, Emma, Aladdin and 'Trent' crept their way from the parking lot through the back service entrance. The commotion caused by Circe's rampage had left almost every wing of the first floor with no power, light fixtures hanging down from broken hinges, exposed wiring and smoke still billowing from fried curtains. Emma frowned at the sorry condition of Storybrooke General and worried briefly about how the patients were faring considering the staff was down two attending physicians, two paramedics, and a nurse, but she pushed it all from her mind. They were here for one purpose only: "Where do you think she is?" she muttered to Philip who was peering down a corridor, checking for signs of Regina's eyes and ears lurking about.
"Well, that's what's left of her station," Philip pointed at old 'Maeve's' central hub which had only hours ago been a cheery, circular reception area for nurses and now looked like a war zone.
"When she sent me to come find you, she shoved me in there," said Trent, thankful to have something to contribute for once as he pointed toward the locker room. Philip started towards it, careful to the point of paranoid in remaining undetected.
"Hang on," Emma whispered, pulling him back. Two security guards none of them recognized stalked around the corridor past the locker room and disappeared further down the hallway.
"Guys," Aladdin said, impatiently pushing past both of them and more out in the open. "This is a hospital and hospitals have security. We can't just suddenly suspect everyone is working for Regina." He grabbed hold of Philip's collar and yanked him forward.
"Al, wait—"
"Well well well if it isn't Matt Clancy, back from the dead."
Philip whirled around to see none other than his Storybrooke boss stalking toward them. "Chief!" he started as a very tall, rather imposing man dressed in a dark blue paramedic jumpsuit drew closer.
"Chief?" said Trent, stepping in front of Emma.
"And his MIA partner," the chief continued as the group settled at the hallway T-junction.
"Not MIA, chief just—"
"—just hungover, right?" the man folded his arms across his chest, pointedly ignoring both Emma and Aladdin as he stared down his nose at his two paramedics.
"I know you're mad, Chief but—"
"Mad?" the chief's arms slid from his chest as his hands came to rest on his hips. Staring them down this way, Emma was reminded of a young James Earl Jones and actually had to stifle a snort, particularly as King Philip had the look of a high school track star being scolded by his coach. "Mad that my best paramedic and his rookie boy genius here decided to play hooky on this town's bloodiest day?"
"We're not playing hooky, Chief," said Trent. "We're—"
"The hell you're not," said the chief who abruptly seized Philip by the collar and dragged him down the opposite corridor, away from the locker room.
"Hey, just hold on a second!" Emma cried as the entire group moved further away from the activity of the front desk. They so didn't have time for this!
"Chief what're you—"
"Oh shut up, newbie," spat the chief as he kicked open the door to an empty exam room, flung Philip inside, the rest of the group scurrying in after him, then slammed the door shut and flipped off the lights. Four florescent, wall-mounted x-ray illuminators remained lit, filling the room with a dull, buzzing glow.
Too stunned by the chief's behavior to do otherwise, Philip, Aladdin and Trent stared at the imposing figure while Emma brushed herself off and straightened her jacket around her neck. "Look buddy, I know you think you've got problems here but—"
"Silence, princess," hissed the chief in a decidedly different tone of voice. Emma and the others watched in horror as the chief passed his palm across his face and his whole appearance shifted into that of—
"Maeve!?" Trent gasped.
"What are you doing here?" demanded the disgruntled head nurse even as her face was still morphing from the chief's to the old bat's.
"You mean you've been Philip's boss and SG's head nurse this whole time?" asked Aladdin who seemed nothing but impressed by the legendary sorceress's subterfuge. After all, how else would she have kept such a close eye on all three of them? 'Maeve', however, appeared unaffected by the tacit compliment.
"Long time no see, Effie," Philip chuckled, relaxing under the scrutiny of the much…well, shorter Maeve.
"Philip," the lady grunted, then wheeled on Trent, "and—you! You're not awake yet!"
Trent backed away. "Hey! What the—"
"Which means she's still in danger, damn you! I sent you to find—"
"Maeve, what are you—"
"Effie, calm down," Philip snatched her hand away which had been poised to strike his poor cousin on the noggin. "He did find us. That's why we're here. We need your help."
"I would say I've given you all enough help in the last thirty years! Wouldn't you?" replied the nurse.
Emma cleared her throat, impatient for them all to get back on task. "Um, Effie—"
"And don't for a second presume to be on familiar terms with me Emma Swan. You've fouled up enough around here to—"
"Hey, hold on a minute—"
"Effie—"
"Stumbling all over town," the woman continued spatting, ignoring them, "letting a half-awakened sheriff ramble on like a madman—"
"That wasn't her—"
"Leaving Michael Tillman alone at his house – defenseless! Adam, wild and loose upstairs, dwarves everywhere—"
"All right, that's it!" Emma slammed her fist down on the metal exam table and didn't care that it stung like hell. "You know what, Lady? Between Regina and Rumpelstiltskin, I've had more than my fill of high-and-mighty, holier-than-thou magic types throwing that kinda crap in my face, reminding me of just how much I've managed to screw up. I'm doin' the best I can all right? Right now my son is missing and my father's being held captive, but instead of just busting them out and getting the hell out of this town, I'm here because apparently I'm the only one who can get allof you back to your hap-hap-happy-ever-after lives." Shaking with fury, she plunged her hand into her coat pocket then chuckled mirthlessly. "And oh yeah, by the way, that's only if I can wake up some woman by convincing her she's a freakin' mermaid! So if you don't mind," she produced the soulodestone and thrust it in front of Effie's face, "let's skip all the 'there's so much you don't understand' bullshit and go right to the part where youtell mehow to turn this into a portal!"
The room went still as the two women stared each other down with eyes blazing and the fierce drive to protect their loved ones piercing each other's gaze. After a time, she drew a deep breath and slowly proffered her hand. "You are definitely…your mother's daughter," she said quietly as Emma handed the egg-shaped contraption to its creator.
They watched in silence as she turned it over a few times in her palm. At last, Philip tore his admiring gaze from Emma and turned to his old ally. "Whadya think, Effie?"
She sighed. "It's a soulodestone, Philip."
"Your design, correct?" Aladdin asked.
"Of course it's mine," she sneered, "but I don't know what could've possessed you to think it could be used as a portal." Emma let out a tempered groan. "These are for communication, Miss Swan," said the sorceress, answering the girl's unspoken argument. "Aurora and I used them in the months leading up to the curse—"
"But we knowit can be done."
"You must be mistaken."
"I'm not! I've seen it!" she slammed her fist down again, snatching the stone back from the woman.
"What do you mean, you've seen it?"
"Emma's a seer, Effie," Philip placed a calming hand on Emma's shoulder, begging that she have faith. "She had a vision."
"What!? You're a…you're a seer?" Emma nodded, unnerved by the awe in the sorceresses eyes; she suddenly preferred the condescending old bat look. "And what did you see in this…vision?"
"We were at the second wishing well with Ariel," she began with hesitation, suddenly unsure that she should be divulging such information to one who, according to Philip, had joined Regina's council. Even with Philip's guarantee that she remained a faithful spy and had no motives other than the protection of her niece, there was such a thing as a double agent. Emma turned to the young king who only urged her on with his gaze. Relenting, she took a deep breath and looked back at Maleficent. "She had some sort of – I dunno, necklace. Looked kind of like a seashell. Something that was important to her."
"To Ariel?"
Emma nodded. "Then she started singing…after I gave her this," she squeezed the soulodestone, wondering if her father was listening somewhere. "And when I touched her shoulder…I dunno, this…swirling doorway opened up in front of her and Prince Eric came tumbling through."
Maleficent's yellow gaze seemed to stare right through her, scrutinizing her story as if she could bore through Emma's brain and see the vision for herself. "You're sure that's what you saw? Absolutely certain?"
Emma nodded, but the older woman just frowned, shaking her head and turning from them.
"What is it, Effie?" asked Philip.
"It's just…not possible."
Emma threw her hands up in anger. "Oh for the love of—"
"I believe you, Miss Swan," she clarified, "But I don't understand it. Teleportation within worlds is certainly possible, but not in a world without magic. And regardless, I designed the stones to be able to connect the minds of those whose souls are joined by love. Not to create portals. That's a different kind of magic, entirely." Suddenly, she grabbed the stone back from Emma and rounded on Trent. "You heard 'Dawn' when you held this, yes?" Trent started, then nodded. Maleficent turned to Emma, holding up the stone. "This is likely howyou helped Ariel establish a path to Eric. But that wouldn't have anything to do with opening a portal."
Emma gaped at the woman who now appeared to be nothing more than a crippling waste of time – time her father and son didn't have. "Unbelievable! You gotta gimme more than that! You're telling me this," she snatched the stone back, "this magic stone that creates links between people across town can't just be altered somehow to—"
"Magical instruments aren't interchangeable, Miss Swan. A fairy godmother's wand is just as magical as the Jolly Roger, but J.S. Hook can't conjure a ballgown!"
"I'm not talking about a fucking ballgown—"
"Emma hang on," said Aladdin, pulling the young deputy back before an all-out cat fight erupted in the exam room. "What about me, Maleficent? Does it have something to do with me?"
Maleficent blinked. "You?"
Aladdin turned back to Emma. "You said I was in your vision, right?"
"Yes—"
"And James thought I would know something anyway. What was I doing?"
Emma looked away, closing her eyes, trying to reimagine the vision. "Your…your hand was on my shoulder."
Aladdin grinned. "Maleficent," he spun back to the sorceress. "Could Emma and I conceivably create a portal if bothof us were…gatekeepers?"
"Gatekeepers!"
"Yeah, gatekeepers. You know, diamonds in the rough? Chosen ones? Those who—"
"Yes yes, I know what a gatekeeper is, boy," she huffed, "and if I'm not mistaken, you're the one who can access the genie realm."
"Right! And if Emma's one too, then—"
"That's impossible. Two gatekeepers in one generation?"
"Two generations, technically," Philip added, catching on.
But Maleficent still shook her head. "Even so, you would either have to die or have your powers stripped entirely for them to come to her. There can't be two gatekeepers active at the same time. Helios would never allow such power to—"
"Unless of course one of them was cursed into a magic-less world, frozen in time for 28 years," Aladdin returned, crossing his arms over his chest. "The curse did strip me of my powers which means Emma would've been automatically activated regardless of where that wardrobe sent her. She's the only one unaffected by the curse. The only one who retained her magic."
His brain hurting, Trent leaned in toward Clancy. "Are you getting any of this?"
"Shh!" muttered Philip.
"Think about it, Emma," Aladdin turned to the frowning deputy. "It explains everything. My powers must be returning with the curse weakening. I told you in the car it's why I think I woke so easily." He shifted toward Philip. "It's also gotta be the reason 'Stiltskin gave me the lamp. He knows it's only a matter of time before the curse is weakened to the point of my being able to access the genie realm again. And with two gatekeepers active at once," he finally turned back to Maleficent, "we must have enough power to open a portal here, in a world without magic."
Maleficent looked between them, eyeing Emma with more scrutiny than ever before. "And you're sure Emma is…like you?" she asked Aladdin.
He looked over at Emma. "It's like I said before. Remember what 'Stiltskin told you," he reminded her again of their recent conversation. Only now, he wasn't just theorizing. He was certain. "This all ends at the third wishing well. The one that…opens a door."
The sorceress stared for another moment, finding it hard to argue with the young man. It had been a long time since she hadn't had all the answers. "Still," she said carefully, "gatekeepers are meant to open doors between worlds. Not create them within one. That will still take a tremendous amount of power."
"But can it be done?" asked Emma, pleading now.
She looked between both of them, their eyes practically bleeding with hope, and sighed. "No," she said quietly, ignoring the smattering of groans, eye-rolling and under-the-breath cursing that followed. "Not now. Not with the curse in its current state," she hurried to explain. "I'm sorry, Miss Swan, but without the awakening of the sixth guardian, there's simply not enough magic released in this world strong enough to create a portal from nothing."
"What do you mean 'released'?" Philip tried, attempting to rein in Emma's exasperation.
Maleficent huffed. "The curse is weakened Philip. It weakened the instant young Henry arrived in town."
"What?" Emma exclaimed, ears burning at the mention of her son.
"Indeed. Eleven years ago, as soon Regina adopted Henry. As soon as she allowed your son, this boy who had not been cursed through the initial barrier, her spell began to weaken. The tiniest of threads pulling at its seems: Jefferson once again able to cross through the forest from his mansion. Graham flashing back on his memories, no doubt an initial side effect of the lascivious relationship Regina foolishly insisted on continuing with him." Emma flinched at the callous reference to Graham but refrained from commenting. "And the book—"
Philip started. "The book?" she looked down as the rest gasped at her silent admission. "So you did write it."
Maleficent nodded slowly. "After Henry arrived, I realized he must be the key to bringing the savior," she glanced back up at Emma, "to Storybrooke. Initially, to preserve my magic, I could do no more than glamour into this—" she gestured down in disgust "—pathetic form and cloak myself from Regina's council. If I used any more of my power, I couldn't maintain the disguise. But when Henry arrived, I found I could start doing more. I could change my appearance – take on multiple forms to keep her guessing. Your boss," she nodded toward Trent. "A secretary at Snow's school—"
"Wait, hold on," Emma cried. "Bethany!? You're also Bethany?" remembering her mother's description of the old biddy who not only playfully terrorized the elementary teachers but had berated James for not putting enough decorations on the Emporium Christmas tree.
Maleficent grinned as she continued. "I had also regained the art—" she paused, then with a flurry and a wave of her hand, a second soulodestone materialized before their very eyes— "of conjuring."
"Holy shit," muttered Trent, though for once without a hint of doubt or cynicism. Maleficent seemed to stare at him with a sort of sad amusement and handed the stone to the former Duke of Glowerhaven. They all watched as Trent worked the stone over and over in his palms, this one speckled with silver and purple flecks of magic etched into its smooth, egg-shaped form.
Maleficent sighed and turned back to her awakened comrades. "So…I conjured the book. In pieces of course, for that kind of record takes time."
"Henry's book," Emma whispered, unsure why her eyes were stinging with tears.
"The book itself is a sort of magical echo of our histories. I enchanted its pages, designed it to allow the mind of a willing reader to be open to more …fantastical possibilities. Once I heard that Regina had started seeking psychological help for the boy, I knew he was ready for it. It was easy enough to place it in your mother's locker here at the hospital and, through the haziness induced by curse, suggest to her that she had simply lost it and it had been returned—"
"The Storybrooke haze," muttered the princess, remembering what her father had told her of the night he'd tricked Abigail into believing a false memory.
"Exactly. And when you rode into town, Emma, those tiny threads that Henry's curiosity had plucked became giant rips in the curse's very fabric. More good magic was released the longer you stayed. The clock started, time unfroze, Prince Thomas woke up, James's amnesia—"
"Right," Emma argued, snapping back to the offensive. "And the curse weakening means more magic right?"
"Yes," said the sorceress impatiently. "Magic enough to help your parents cross the forest to Jefferson's lair. Magic enough for a fabricated glass slipper to trigger the memories of King Christopher and young Ella. But Emma, portals between worlds – even within worlds require The. Most. Powerful magic imaginable. Why else would it take the release of all six guardians to open that door? And that's a doorway that already exists. You—" she glanced over at Aladdin, "are talking of creating one from scratch."
Emma shook her head, vehement. "This can't be it. That can't be all you can give us!" she blustered in a state of denial. "You're telling me that in order to have enough power to wake the sixth guardian, the sixth guardian already needs to be awake?" Maleficent's silence was deafening. "That's unacceptable."
"Emma—" Philip tried to console her.
"No," she seethed, yanking her arm from his grasp. "I risked everything for this. I sent someone else after my son. I delayed trying to freemy father and for what? Some washed up, has-been witch to tell me my vision means nothing?"
"It doesn't mean nothing," Aladdin tried, helplessly. "You saw it happen. That must mean we figure out a way—"
"Yeah," she scoffed, "and apparently without any of her help." Emma shoved her hands in her coat pockets and paced the exam room in uncomfortable silence. There was no way – simply no way they had enough time. Faces passed before her mind's eye: Henry, James, Snow. Faces of the people she loved…and would lose. And as if that wasn't enough, Regina's ultimatum hung over her head like the poised blade of the guillotine. It was suffocating her, the world closing in as she tried not to think of whose heart the evil queen would pick next – whose innocent soul would be snuffed out before—
"Effie, you have to give us something," Philip suddenly rounded on the old bat, his gaze piercing hers, staring her down as he had so many years ago when he'd demanded straight answers from Aurora's infamous aunt.
Maleficent glared cruelly at the ungrateful prince. "I have already given you…much, Philip."
"Much…but not all," he challenged her, refusing now to back down. "Before the curse, you swore to me it was better this way. That you could either take Regina head-on and lose, or conceal yourself, limiting your magic until the savior arrived."
"Your point?" she said coldly.
"She's arrived, Effie!" he said through clenched teeth, thrusting his hand out, indicating Emma. "And you're still here." He took the new stone from Trent and held it in front of her. "Help us, Maleficent," he said, then nodded back at Emma. "Help her…so we can save Aurora."
Maleficent heaved a huge sigh, but this one had neither the impatience or vexation of a put-upon sorceress. Indeed, she seemed rather tired. "You're not…wrong, Miss Swan," she said slowly, turning once more to the savior. "There is…one thing I can give you."
Emma's heart swelled for Philip and she flushed before she could stop herself. "What?" she practically stumbled back toward Aurora's aunt. "What is it?"
She looked down, hesitating, then nodded with an eerie sort of decidedness. "The rest of my power."
"What?!"
"Effie, you—"
"No," she held up her hand and arrested both Philip and Aladdin's objections. "You are right Philip. This was, after all, the plan all along. To preserve my magic so that I may be of use when…the savior arrives."
"But with no magic, you'll—"
"Be unable to maintain this form, yes. I know. And I will no longer be cloaked from the queen. Right now, she believes me to have been lost in the creation of Storybrooke. She ceased her search for me after issues with Adam and the Lost Boys gave her much more pressing matters to deal with," she explained with a casual wave of her hand. In fact, there was a subtle smirk in her countenance that suggested Maleficent herself had been the cause of those…pressing matters.
Philip shook his head, "But without your magic you'll be as vulnerable as anyone else."
Maleficent nodded. "More so in fact."
"Effie—"
"Wait a minute," Emma shook her head, "you guys are talking about magic like it's-it's… some kind of fuel or something. Like it'll run out. I thought if you were magic you were just…magic."
"In our own world, yes," she replied. "A world where magic is in the very air? Enchants every rock and tree? Certainly. But in this world?"
"Regina literally took our entire world and shoved it into this one," Aladdin explained, drawing from what he'd last learned from the Genie about how Regina planned the curse. "That doesn't just mean the people. That means everything. And what she couldn't transform, she just buried."
"Like the wishing wells," Philip added. "And the dwarves' hut."
"Ok, but what does that have to do with—"
"She moved everything, Emma," Aladdin emphasized. "Including all the magic."
"There are thousands of people in this town," Maleficent took over. "So Regina had to commit nearly all the magic of our world to suppressing each and every citizen in this one – magic masks every memory, creates every single false persona. So each time someone awakens, that little bit of that magic is released and becomes a kind of raw power."
"Raw power?"
"Yes. Power that I imagine you began tapping into fairly recently."
Emma blinked. "Excuse me?"
The sorceress actually rolled her eyes. "This young man said you're a seer, yes?" She nodded. "Well, I imagine you didn't start having visions the moment you rode into town in your obnoxious yellow buggy. That power developed in you later, once people started awakening, believing in the curse, releasing magic."
"But you are already awake," she struggled, trying to keep up. "How're you gonna release anything if you were never under the curse in the first place?"
At this, Maleficent actually grinned. "Because my power isn't tied up in the curse. My power is mine alone. And I can do with it…what I choose."
Philip wiped the sweat from his brow. He was willing to do anything to help Emma succeed, but he knew Regina wasn't likely to give up without a fight. And losing their most powerful ally just before all hell broke loose wasn't exactly the help he had in mind. "There's gotta be something else. Some other way, Effie than to totally surrender your magic—"
"Boy, do not make demands of me in the name of my niece if you are not prepared to accept the solution. This is the only way. The amount of power I have left would be equivalent to more than 100 Storybrooke citizens awakening simultaneously."
Emma gulped. She suddenly didn't like where this was going. "So…giving me the last of…of your power…means…?"
Maleficent glanced at Trent, who stood rather stupidly behind the action, holding tightly to the new soulodestone. "It means," she replied, stepping over to Trent, "that the rest will be up to you."
Trent started. "Me?!"
"All of you," she clarified with a sly smile, though she kept her eyes on Trent. "You love her?" she whispered.
Trent stammered and cleared his throat. "Wh-who?"
Maleficent closed her eyes. "Dawn."
The medic's eyes grew wide, his throat constricting. He looked nervously to Philip whose eyes he'd studiously avoided since Mary Margaret's revelation in the cottage. The image of Matt with Dawn in the famed storybook was burned into his mind with stinging clarity, and since then he'd simply gone with the flow in the hopes of saving her, no matter what destiny had divined for her otherwise. But Philip just nodded, allowing Trent Davis to voice what was, in the end, a very simple truth. "Yes," he said quietly. "I do."
Maleficent turned back to Philip, her sorceress gaze crinkling through Maeve's peasant demeanor. "You will swear to me he awakens her? That she is the very next person saved?"
Philip bowed his head. "On my life."
She eyed him shrewdly but at last seemed satisfied. "Very well."
The four of them jumped backwards as Maeve swept toward the center of the room, giving each of them one final nod then thrusting her arms up in the air, throwing her head back.
"Effie, wait—" Philip called out but went unheeded, for billowing around the head nurse's worn sneakers was a dark cloud of thick blue smoke. Emma's eyes practically bugged out of her skull as she watched the smoke encircling 'Maeve's' rotund form from the bottom up. Swirling around her, scaling up the length of the sorceress's disguised body, the blue smoke quickly engulfed her smiling form and Emma immediately started coughing despite the fact that it wasn't seeping into her lungs. Casting her arms to the left and right, trying reflexively to keep the smoke off of her, she felt her palm pass through the cool, misty blue vapor and she gasped, yanking her tingling hand back and clutching it to her side.
"What? What is it?" asked Aladdin, rushing toward her.
"Power," she wheezed. "Raw power."
The group watched in a collected stupor as, with a sharp CRACK, the façade of 'Maeve' finally flashed out of view. As rapidly as it had begun, the billowing cloud disseminated into the air, thick yet harmless smoke that Emma, her hand still tingling, now understood to be the last of Maleficent's magic being released into Storybrooke.
At last the room thinned out and in 'Maeve's' place stood a tall, slender woman, poised in the same long flowing gown of violet satin which Emma first saw her wear in her vision of Aurora's wedding. The plump, aged cheeks and graying hair were no more, replaced by an almost snow-white complexion, high cheek bones, yellow eyes and black lips curled into the same wicked smile that once resembled a dragon's. With a deep, throaty chuckle, Maleficent, restored to her true form, reached up, felt along the black horned headpiece that had also returned and rolled her eyes. "I always did know how to make an entrance."
Emma stood gaping at the tall, imposing figure before her, shocked that a woman, so famously evil in every version of the story she'd ever seen or heard, could in actuality, appear so devastatingly beautiful. In fact, Emma was so transfixed by her that the woman, in a voice no longer belonging to that of a world-weary sixty-year-old nurse but a vibrant, downright regal madam, chided her for her dropped jaw and frozen stance.
"Emma?" Philip touched her shoulder. She remained rooted to the spot. "Emma!" Philip tried again, giving her a gentle shake.
Emma started and finally snapped her gaping mouth shut. "S-sorry I—" she looked curiously at Maleficent, not exactly sure what she wanted to say – needed to say. The very air around her felt different. She felt different. Stronger. Powerful.
"Quite a rush, isn't it?" Maleficent's gaze locked with hers in understanding.
"I'll say," came the response, but it wasn't Emma's. Philip and Trent juddered toward Aladdin who was also clearly feeling some effects of the power boost. "I feel like I could open up that lamp right now—"
"Don't!" said Maleficent, her gaze now fixed intently on both gatekeepers. "You must save all your energy for the portal."
"Will we," Emma stammered, licking her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. "Do we need to…say some sort of…I dunno – spell or something?"
"If your vision is as you've told me, you will know what to do at the well. Your powers come from your mind Emma. You don't realize it but you are willing your visions to come to you, calling upon yourself to see what you need to see."
Emma nodded with a gulp and fell silent again.
"Quickly now," she hissed in a deep, velvety voice. "Though I swore my allegiance to Aurora years ago, there is still darkness in my heart. Regina will soon know of my presence here and come searching. You must pull Eric out soon and restore Ariel. You have less than two hours before Regina crushes another soul." And without any more ceremony, Maleficent seized the collars of both gatekeepers with her bony hands and ushered them out of the room.
…
Emma and Aladdin moved quickly through the corridors and back out through the loading docks, their senses heightened and racing with what they still felt pulsing through them. Though the initial, staggering effects were wearing off and both could now focus, each still reeled from the release of Maleficent's magic into the world which seemed to be clinging to their skin.
"Come on, come on, hurry," said Philip as the three of them jogged toward Emma's car. Somehow, he'd gotten hold of her keys and tossed them to Aladdin who rushed to the driver's side door and slipped inside.
Philip jerked open the passenger door, braced his hand on the car's roof and turned Emma toward him. "Go," he said, nodding toward the seat.
Emma blinked. "You're not coming?"
He shook his head. "And neither is Lucas."
"Why?"
"You've got your promises and I've got mine."
She glanced back toward the hospital. Sure enough, Trent – or, Lucas – had not followed them. "Wh-what are you talking about?" she huffed. Things happened way too fast in Storybrooke.
"Maleficent's vulnerable now. We can't leave her unprotected."
"But Regina's not after Maleficent."
"True but she might be. You and Aladdin can't be the only ones who felt that…that jolt. Remember Regina's been trading on borrowed magic for years. She won't realize right away what's happened, but she might."
"And how do you figure that?" she asked, hands settling at her waist.
"I don't know!" he said impatiently, checking behind them. "But Maleficent was supposed to follow the other rogues into the curse, remember? Up until now, Regina probably assumed something went wrong which stranded Effie in our world. If the queen figures out that Maleficent has been on our side all along, she might come looking for more power."
"Philip—"
"And even if she doesn't," he waved her off, "Effie's still got twenty-eight years' worth of information on Regina. I'm betting she'll at least have some clue as to where she's hiding James and the others. If Lucas and I can get to them first while you two set up—"
Emma startled him with a guttural snarl. "Aaaaarrghhhh! If you think she knows that then why the hell are we bothering with this stupid portal thing? Why don't we just bust 'em all out and—"
"Because I can't be sure she knows," he grabbed her arm and pulled her back around, "and we don't have a clue what kind of cells and spells we'd be up against. Plus you've already seen your way work in your vision. I'm not talking about a plan B here for getting Eric. I'm talking about everyone else."
"But if you find them, Philip, Regina will be there. She'll kill you—"
He shook his head. "Not if she wants me to relinquish my guardianship. Remember, she thinks she has mysomething-precious already. Besides, I promised Effie I'd help Lucas wake Aurora. I've gotta try. At the very least we might be able to stall her."
"But—"
"Look, go," he repeated, backing her against the car door. Aladdin sat impatiently inside, revving the engine. "You've got more important things to do right now than argue with me. Besides, you don't need me for this part. I've heard you describe your vision three times today. I'mnot in it."
"Oh for God's sake! That doesn't mean I don't need— I mean that we don't need—"
And then he silenced her with a kiss, his head darting down without hesitation, as if he'd flipped on some switch that made it impossible for him to resist her any longer. He gripped her by the shoulders and her eyes flew open in surprise before quickly fluttering closed. Despite the cold outside and despite his urgency, his lips were warm and soft against hers, so familiar – as if she'd been kissing him for years. How does he keep doing that? some part of her asked herself, but it was the tiniest remnant of a conscience, and she pushed it to the back of her mind as he deepened the kiss, eliciting that same electrifying gasp of hers as he coaxed her lips apart.
Emma sucked in a breath before surrendering completely, and it took her a moment to realize that for the first time, she wasn't whisked away to a vision. His touch was not simply a means to an end or a doorway to more information about the past or future. You don't realize it but you are willing your visions to come to you, calling upon yourself to see what you need to see, Maleficent had told her. But she hadn't willed anything this time. Was it possible? Could she really just want him – want this for its sake alone? She pulled him closer, tugging him forward by the lapels of his open jacket as she leaned into the kiss. He responded in full, wrapping his arms down around her waist, letting out a soft moan as he tasted her, and she gasped as she felt something shatter apart in her heart – a wall crumbling down with the might of a tidal wave as she forced herself to realize what had been gnawing at her since she first laid eyes on him at the firehouse. She was ready. She was actually ready to love again. Ready to be in love again…and it scared her to death.
Eventually he pulled back, holding her at arm's length as she steadied herself. Emma looked down and tensed, unnerved by the epiphany that had just rocked her very core. "You really have to stop doing that," she whispered unevenly, staring at the ground.
He chuckled and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. "Why? Afraid you just might get used to it?"
"Philip," she groaned in resignation. "This isn't the—"
"Time, or the place, I know," he sighed, tucking a tendril of her hair up into her wool cap. "But sooner or later you'll stop trying to kid yourself," he added with a smirk.
Emma bit back a smile. "You're awfully sure of yourself."
Regretfully, he let his hands slip from her waist. "Go," he said again. "Create your portal. Wake Ariel and Eric." Gradually he started backing away from the car. "Save magic, Emma. Let me save your dad."
Emma shook her head and turned, starting to lower herself into the passenger seat when Philip's last words finally registered. She leapt back out. "Philip!" she called as he crossed the parking lot. He turned around. "Don't even think about telling my dad about…about…" she waved her arm clumsily between the two of them, "this!" Philip opened his mouth to reply then snapped it shut with a wink. Grinning, he tilted his head to the side with a cheeky shrug then practically skipped back into the hospital. "Philip!" she yelled, outraged, but to no avail. The king was gone.
With an irritated growl, she slumped down into the seat and yanked the door shut. She sat there, stewing like a spurned schoolgirl for a moment before she shook her head, determined to focus on far more important matters at hand than just how much James would flip out if he learned she and Philip had—
She paused mid-stew and glanced suddenly at Aladdin…who was grinning at her from ear to ear. "Oh shut up," she grumbled.
Aladdin laughed and slammed the car into drive. "Didn't say a word."
…
As Lost Boys zipped from room to room, leading Hook on a merry chase through the maze of doors and stairwells in the old boys' home, Rufio and the others had been especially careful to keep him occupied in the upper corridors and as far from the dungeons as possible. They had to give Henry time to work his magic and safely extract Peter from his cell. Unfortunately, that meant leading Hook right past his private armory; it was a common deterrent with which the old codger liked to taunt the Lost Boys, many of whom had been dragged in front of the locked rack of weapons and threatened with the very idea of having one or more deadly firearm used on their "worthless" heads in response to some prank or mischief attempted early on. So when Rufio saw where Hook was headed, he shouted a command for the boys to split off into even smaller groups and scatter about the boarding house.
The captain, meanwhile, had fast adjusted to the fact that his magic hook was gone. A small matter, he thought, for he'd soon get it back. In the meantime, he would deal with these brats the old fashioned way - the way he should have dealt with them when they'd first arrived. Magic wands be damned. Regina's edict be damned. He didn't need a magical hook to kill Lost Boys. Hell, he didn't even need a whole hand. Just a trigger finger.
"Hey Ace! Watch out! Yer bein' chased by a one-handed turd!" shouted Binky from above the second level railing as Hook just narrowly missed firing a newly loaded pistol at the boy. The taunt worked and Hook promptly raised his gun and took aim at the much more difficult target above his head, giving Ace time to slip down another corridor. Binky ducked out of view, confident 'old Hookie' would follow him upstairs. "That'll get his goat," he whispered. "You ready?" he hissed at Rufio who was crouched at the other banister, stringing a thin wire between them while they listened for the captain's clunky footsteps racing up the stairs.
"How much longer d'you think they need?" asked Binky, adjusting his prized top hat – the one John Darling had gifted to him so many years ago.
Rufio just shook his head, knowing it wasn't only Henry and Peter they had to worry about. At this very moment, another contingent of boys were on the third floor with Pinocchio and more of Henry's critter friends, busting out Tootles. "Get set," he said as the two of them yanked the wire fully taut just as Hook reached the second floor landing then tripped, sprawling over it into the peeling wallpaper of their corridor.
"Bangarang!" chuckled Binky as he tore back down the stairs to find Ace.
Rufio just stood and laughed, hands perched on his hips like his mentor. "Face it old man. You can't possibly take all of us."
"Oh no?" Hook whirled around and sprang himself up faster than Rufio had been anticipating. The pre-teen gulped, suddenly staring down the barrel of a gun. "Remember Tootles?" he growled, cocking back the chamber. "It doesn't take much to break your spirits, boy. Whadya think would happen to your whole operation here if they found yer bloody carcass at the bottom of those steps?"
Rufio's pulse was racing, but he managed to glance passed his foe and spotted the other group of boys starting down the stairwell from the third floor. They had Tootles. "I uh, I dunno Hookie," Rufio said, stalling. "But somehow I don't think we're gonna find out."
"Oh yeah?" Hook inched forward, tucking the gun's barrel up under Rufio's chin, pressing him against the railing with the other arm, stump and all. "And why is that?"
"Cuz I don't think you'll do it," Rufio said, confidence growing despite his unfortunate predicament. "You won't kill a kid."
Hook let out a menacing laugh. "You really think I'm not capable of pulling this trigger ya little urchin? Do you remember I used to eat runts like you for breakfast?!"
"Oh you're capable all right," Rufio laughed, then slowly took a step to the side. "You're also an idiot."
"Wha—"
Before Hook could react, Pinocchio, who had been tip-toeing down from the third floor with the others, slid down the banister then sprung right up on top of Hook's hat, pulling the wide-brimmed monstrosity down over the captain's eyes before plucking the white feather from its band and waving it over his head like a lasso. The wooden boy whooped and hollered and crowed, holding tightly to fistfuls of the old man's long black curls like the reins of a horse. Hook flailed his own arms about, thrashing around, trying to see and in doing so fired three rounds from his pistol. But the bullets went astray as the boys crowding around him continued to laugh and point, cheering on Pinocchio as the rest of his group successfully snuck Tootles downstairs.
"All right Pinoke, that's it! Let's go!" shouted Rufio as the rest of the boys cleared the hallway, all headed to the first floor where they would hopefully meet up with Henry and Peter.
But Pinocchio wouldn't budge. "Go!" he shouted. "I'll wait till you're downstairs!"
"You kiddin' me wood-brain! Let go of 'im! We're clear!"
"No!" said Pinocchio, clamping his whole body down over Hook's hat-covered head, dodging every attempt the old man made to grab hold of him. With only one good hand, Hook hadn't yet wanted to surrender the gun, but he would soon. "I got this! You—" but just as swiftly as Hook had rounded on Rufio, the practiced pirate holstered his gun, reached up and snatched the poor puppet from his head, yanking his clunky form down so hard that the boy's cedar shoes banged into the floor with a decided CRACK and Pinocchio yelped in pain.
"Pinoke!" Rufio cried, moving to lunge forward, but Hook swung the toy before him.
"What was that you were sayin' about being an idiot, boy?"
Rufio panicked as Hook taunted him, dangling Pinocchio by the leg. By now, he'd learned his lesson and was holding the puppet at arm's length so that Pinocchio couldn't do much but squirm. Luckily, that meant Hook's one good hand was occupied and he wouldn't be able to hold the puppet and his gun at the same time. However, when Rufio glanced down at the holstered pistol and thought briefly about snatching it from his belt, Hook seemed to read his mind. "Don't even think about it," sneered Hook as he brought Pinocchio more fully into view. "You reach for that gun and I'll snap its leg." Pinocchio whimpered as Rufio stepped backwards, hands up in surrender. "It'll be like snapping a toothpick. Now…march."
…
Nibs and Henry had a heck of a time shouldering Peter's awkward, bulky weight, but with Hansel's help and Gretel guiding them, they emerged just in time to see Ace, Binky and a dozen others sliding, hanging, running and swinging down from curtain rods and wall sconces as the boys congregated near the entrance of the mess hall. Right on schedule, Henry thought to himself just as he felt something scurry up his leg and plop into his worn breast pocket. "Mick?" he called out to his new favorite critter, glancing down as two Lost Boys relieved him of Peter's weight.
"At your service, Pal!" came the reply in his head, a sensation to which Henry had already easily adjusted (and far quicker than his mother had gotten a handle on her own powers). Henry grinned as he could feel the mouse smile.
"We all set? Is my mom coming?"
"Help's on the way, Pal," reported the head critter just as he felt Gretel tugging on his arm, pulling him through one set of double doors as they all made their way toward the back of the hall near the long stretch of windows.
"Henry, come on!" she tugged at his sleeve as Henry stumbled after her, Nibs trailing behind. As the last group entered the mess hall, both Nibs and Henry took a mental count. Nibs spotted Tootles right away and breathed a sigh of relief, locking eyes with his old friend who looked just as tired and ragged as Peter, albeit not as…old. But he was free with a familiar smile crinkling his eyes. Another quick sweep around the room however, removed all relief.
"Hey," he elbowed Henry in the arm. "Where's Rufio?"
But Henry was already nodding in concern. "And Pinocchio?"
"Didn't quite think this whole thing through did ya, you little bastard?" came a hideous snarl as the other set of double doors were thrown open with a crash and in stumbled Rufio, obviously kicked inside by the rear. Henry gasped as Hook emerged, holding a terrified Pinocchio, still flailing about wildly. But Hook's grip appeared iron-clad. "You know," sneered the captain as Gretel and Hansel rushed forward to drag Rufio over to the rest of them. "The more you squirm, the tighter my grip. You might want to stop that before you wrench your own leg off you wooden freak!"
"Hey!" Henry cried, incensed tears stinging his cheeks. "Leave 'im alone. I'm the one you want Hook!" he cried, clenching his fists so tightly he could swear his nails were breaking the skin of his palms.
"Wrong kid," Hook spat, bringing him and his puppet captive closer to the large hearth at the head of the room. Henry drew in a sharp breath. "In fact, despite what your dear mummy has told you your whole life, you are nothing special here."
"What's a matter Hook?" came a fierce growl from amidst the group of boys. They had been crowded around their old leader, shielding him from Hook's view, but now the fully grown Peter Pan, with his faded green tunic worn and torn to shreds, emerged on his own will and came to stand by Henry, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder for support. "Afraid to take on someone your own size?"
"On the contrary Pan," Hook clucked as he inched closer and closer to the hearth, "I can think of nothing more satisfying than to take out all of your little lost boys one by one while you stand there and watch, barely able to hold yourself up on those adult legs of yours."
But Peter scoffed, taking his hand from Henry and striking his most famous pose. "After all these years, you're still just a crazy old codger. You really think keeping me in that dungeon made me forget how to fight?"
Henry glanced behind him with a gulp as the interplay between enemies continued. Through the glass he could see the sun beginning to set. Come on, he thought, peering into the wilderness, searching…praying. Come on please… "Mick, where ARE they?" But even Mick seemed to have been petrified into silence as he peeked over the top of Henry's pocket, watching as Pinocchio continue to hang from Hook's outstretched hand.
"Of course not," Hook said with a wave of his stump before he casually used it to nudge a huge brass knob one quarter turn and ignite the gas-powered fireplace. Instantly, the hearth erupted into a roaring, menacing inferno.
"Aaaah!" cried Pinocchio, as Hook held him wooden frame inches from the flames. "Please! No!"
They were supposed to be here by now, Henry's bleary eyes surveyed the still winter landscape outdoors, and noticed not one twig or branch out of place, not a single rustling of trees in the distance. Come on, Emma. Don't be late!
"But I doubt very much you'll have any fight left once we turn your little friend here into firewood. What do you think, Pinnnnnnochio?" he jeered, bringing trembling wooden face right up to his nose.
"Henry!" came a whispered hiss at his other side, and Henry started as Gretel was suddenly right next to him. "The hook!" she murmured.
"What?"
"You still have the hook!"
"I know but—"
"Do something!"
With a slight jump, Henry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled it out. Downstairs he'd used it to disenchant Peter's lock. But it was like a wandright? Perhaps it could do…other things? "Not so fast, Hook!" he cried, taking hold of it in shaking hands and aiming the hook right at the smoldering hearth.
Hook paused just as he was about to throw the wooden boy in the fire and then chuckled. "You think you know how to use—"
But Henry ignored him, squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated. In the dungeon he'd willed the chains free. All he had to do was will…the fire…to…
With a flash, what looked like a stream of ice-blue lightning streaked across the room and shot into the fire, exploding against the back wall of the hearth in a spectacular cloud of cool smoke and snow. When it cleared, the fire had fully extinguished and crystalline icicles hung floor-to-ceiling in its place.
"All right Hank!" screamed Ace as the rest of the boys erupted in cheers, crowing and singing the praises of the young prince.
"Atta boy, Henry!" cheered Mick from his pocket.
"Bangarag Henry!"
"Way ta go—"
"SILENCE!" bellowed Hook, recovering from his shock and gripping Pinocchio's leg even tighter. "You think I need fire to dispose of this aberrant creature?!" Peter and the children fell silent once more as he swung the puppet up and hooked his other leg in between two crossbeams, stretching the poor boy from shoe to painted glove. "One more tug and this toy splits apart into twelve different pieces!"
"No!" Henry cried, starting forward, but Gretel held him back.
"Bad form, Hook!" yelled Peter, scrambling. "What about the code?"
"Ah yes, the code. Quite right Pan. We do owe 'im one final request don't we?" He turned toward Pinocchio and sneered. "How 'bout it, boy? Any last words!?"
"I have a few!" cried a fierce, irate voice that seemed to shake the very walls. Suddenly, a thunderous crash like that of a shattered window sounded from the other end of the room and all eyes turned in astonishment as the doors to the kitchen smashed open and in stalked Geppetto. "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY SON!"
Hook's jaw dropped at the sight of it – 'ol man Marco', flanked by Michael Tillman, Red Riding Hood and Doctor Hopper, with Akela the wolf leading the pack. The wolf itself was threatening enough: one red eye, one grey, and brandishing a set of vicious, salivating incisors. But the ire in the old man's eyes was far more menacing than the animal's snarl.
"Father!" Pinocchio, still stretched between Hook and the crossbeams, reached his free hand toward his papa whose eyes flooded instantly with tears and recognition. Henry could see it too and gasped as he watched the 'Storybrooke haze' ebbing from 'Marco's' eyes and Geppetto fully emerge. The old man's hands were steady though, despite the emotion of the moment, gripping tightly to the sledgehammer he and Tillman had just used to break through the kitchen.
Hook, still gaping at this unprecedented intrusion, stood stupidly still as Red raised a loaded cross-bow and aimed right for Hook's good hand. The arrow tore through his flesh and Hook released his grip on the boy. Pinocchio scurried out of the crossbeams and dropped to the ground.
"Father! Father!" Pinocchio cried out, tearing after the old craftsman with furious joy. Bounding towards Geppetto and leaping into his arms, Pinocchio wrapped his sore, wooden limbs around his papa's neck and squeezed tight. "You f-found me!"
Geppetto reeled back from the force of his son's hold and knew instantly what it was to be whole. How had he ever forgotten? How could he not remember his little Pinocchio? "My boy," he whispered. "My brave boy." And as he sealed the embrace, surely never to let go again, the two of them were engulfed in a warm blue light. Streaks of magic filled every crook and cranny of the dilapidated boys' home, and Henry could swear he could feel the magic swirling through him as the blue glow turned white hot and blinded them all in a brilliant flash. Sounds of awe and wonder filled the room he could hear even Peter gasp in the presence of such power. When it finally dimmed, Henry broke into a wide, toothy, bleary-eyed grin. For Pinocchio was once again…a real boy.
"Wretches! Miserable little imps!" Hook tried to recover, finally managing to yank the arrow free with a howl and now clutching his bleeding hand to his chest. "You won't get away with this!"
Henry, too thrilled with Pinocchio's restoration to worry about where Emma was right now, straightened up as tall as his little form would allow and struck the same pose as Peter Pan. He glanced over at Red, guessing she would be the one most in the know and was rewarded with a nod as Red parted her cloak and revealed the satchel now barely hidden under its folds. Henry nodded back. "Actually Hook, we already have."
"What?" Hook spat.
"Happy thoughts on three boys!" Henry called to his men, and immediately several boys dispersed around the mess hall. "One—!" Two boys each settled on either side of Geppetto, Red, Tillman and Jiminy. "Two—!" Henry himself grabbed hold of Peter as did Nibs and Pockets. Rufio swung Gretel into his arms while Ace grabbed hold of Hansel. Finally, Binky whistled for Akela who bounded over and allowed the boy to take hold around his middle. With everyone in place, Henry gave Red another wink. "Two-and-a-half—!"
Red chuckled as she unhooked the brown satchel she'd been instructed to bring. Whatever Emma had seen in her vision had led them exactly here, so it was with a confidence born of her trust in both the savior and this precocious little kid that she released the leather straps on the worn case and lifted out a very…special…top hat. With canine swiftness, she tossed it across the room to Emma's son. Henry gripped it tightly by its brim, already feeling the magic inside – Jefferson's hat. The Mad-Hatter's gateway to Wonderland – simply bursting for release. Henry took one last look at Hook and then bellowed, "THREE!"
Henry felt Peter, Nibs and Pockets grip tightly to his forearms as he flung the hat toward the ground like a frisbee, just as Emma had described on their way back from Jefferson's mansion. If Emma could make it work, it simply had to work for Henry. And sure enough, the spinning top hat picked up speed as the air in the room turned cold and a thunderous boom shook the mess hall.
"Wha—what's happening!?" cried Hook, but as he twisted himself up to see, he was astonished to find that he was the only one…still on the ground. "How in the— impossible!" he cried as he strained his eyes upward and saw that all of the Lost Boys…were flying.
"Poor Hookie," chuckled Rufio as he readjusted his hold of Gretel, making sure, as he and several others were instructed, that he had a secure grip on those who didn't have fairy dust inside of them. "Thought you got rid of all our happy thoughts, didja?"
"Aww, don't be so hard on 'im Rufio," joked Pockets, treading air beside Henry, holding just as firmly to the savior's son. "He's nothin' but an old codfish after all."
"Nah, not codfish," said Peter. "Crocodile." The taunt was unmistakable in Hook's eyes as Peter made a soft clicking sound with his tongue, like that of a tick-tocking clock.
"Shut up!" spat the pirate, waving his stump furiously in the air. But what Peter began, the other boys followed, and soon the room filled with a symphony of ticking clock noises as the spinning hat picked up speed then started sinking into the floor like a drill.
"It's working," Henry whispered both aloud and in his head as Peter and Pockets kept tick-tocking beside him and Mick glanced up out of his pocket with a mousy grin. The hat descended further, and they watched in gleeful anticipation as the swirling portal opened wide to a new world below them: revealing– as Henry had hoped – a rather morose Jefferson in a bizarre room surrounded by hats, head leaning against his palm as if he'd been sitting there moping ever since Emma and her parents had escaped the mansion. "Hey Jefferson!" he shouted down, cupping his hands around his mouth in a makeshift megaphone.
The Mad Hatter jolted from his dejected pose and threw his head back, looking up in horror at the portal opening above his head. "How in the—" Henry saw him mouth.
"Two go in and two come out right?" he shouted down as the funnel widened and Hook crawled further across the floor, trying desperately to escape the expanding opening.
Jefferson's confused gaze darted around, spotting what looked to be dozens of young boys hovering over the floor of the portal, holding themselves and others safely above the reaches of his hat's swirling center. Briefly he thought he was being mocked. Had Emma used the hat again just to taunt him with more people that couldn't help him escape the deserted Wonderland? Then he saw it – the portal slowly revealing a pair of black buckled shoes dangling over the its edge as it spread further beneath Captain Hook. He looked back to the boy he now recognized as Henry Mills – or rather Henry Swan – and grinned in understanding. "Two go in, two come out – that's the rule!" he shouted back with glee.
"Well here's number two!" he cried, pointing to Hook who had taken refuge on the still frozen stone hearth the portal hadn't yet reached.
"Fools! Miscreants! You will pay for this!" he yelled even as he uselessly scraped his feet against the stone, scrambling backwards though he had nowhere left to go.
"Give it up, old man!" said Peter who even now still had enough fairy dust inside of him to help Pockets and Nibs support his flight.
"Yeah enjoy Wonderland ya 'ol coot!" called out Tootles to the delight of all his friends.
"Send us a post card will ya?" added Ace.
And the Lost Boys, soaring with a plethora of happy thoughts as they spent the last of their fairy dust, watched with glee as the portal gobbled up their longtime foe and sent Captain Hook screaming into the gates of Wonderland – at last providing Jefferson with a means to escape.
…
***So to answer many of your questions – no! You don't have to wait a whole year for another update! I told you this one was coming soon! Hope you enjoyed.
Shout out to a few dozen newcomers to the fold who visited, favorite and followed. I am SO impressed by those of you who actually committed to all 43 chapters straight through! That is stamina considering how completely out of control this one-time supposed one-shot has gotten! But we're getting nearer and nearer to the conclusion now, so I don't imagine it will last much longer *whew!*
Shout out to MajesticallyDamaged, James Duke, atheart101, astrakelly, OnceUponAChloe, lizzytish-lover of everything8, sgcycle, duchessduchie, sherwei.07, HelenaHermione, chibi-ringo, tate4eva, Sara K M, Amee95, Madje Knotts, and Maiqu20 – stellar readers, reviewers and representatives of fans both old and new. I think my favorite one-liner comment of the entire review section is lizzytish-lover of everything8 who rightly pointed out that this 400+ pager takes place over like…4 days. Ha! Legitimate laugh-out-loudness going on here, because it really does! When you consider that as of now, the tree lighting was like…two days ago – yeah. Lots happens when you have over 40 characters to keep track of
Plenty more to come – no I have not forgotten about Adam, or Gunlief for that matter. And fear not – James will soon um *ahem* meet up with Philip. All in due time. Until then, Happy Labor Day (if you celebrate) and happy Monday otherwise!***