13.
They arrive on the other side, in the middle of a storm, apart from each other.
.::.
When Emma opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is this humongous tree and its thick branches dancing wildly at the wind's command. She doesn't dare to move her body, not immediately at least, feeling every bit sore and still short-winded from the impact on the hard ground, as the cold rain falls relentlessly, soaking her head to toe.
With some effort she eventually manages to sit up, wincing as she feels her muscles protest her slightest movement. It is nearly impossible to see clearly under the downpour, but as far as she can tell, there is no one in the vicinity.
But then she hears someone crying out. Emma can easily recognize the voice, despite the constant howling of the wind.
The voice belongs to Ruby.
Putting aside the lightheadedness she feels as she tries to stand, Emma does her best to track down the screams and all those years scouting amidst Storybrooke's woods seem to pay off, as it doesn't take long before she manages to find her pregnant friend breathing hard in the middle of a clearing.
"Ruby!" Emma calls out her name as soon as her eyes recognize her, running towards the woman as fast as her legs allow her to.
When Ruby hears her voice, the signs of unmistakable relief take over the wolf's features, but as soon as the smile touches her lips it dissolves, giving way to a feral expression and another loud cry.
Emma immediately recognizes the signs, her most recent memories being from when Snow gave birth to Evan, but some older ones push their way onto the surface as well, from when she was the one bringing Henry into this world. Or, their old world, that is.
Back then, even though her situation had been far from ideal, Emma was taken to a hospital – one within the prison where she was committed, but a hospital nonetheless – one with doctors, nurses, and, above all, access to potent drugs.
Snow didn't share the same luck.
When she delivered Evan, it had been a winter night, and they had been keeping shelter in an old barn nearly falling apart, far from any civilization as hordes of the undead had already claimed what was left of Storybrooke.
Whale had been there, providing some assistance, but there had been no medication or relief to be offered to her mother, and her screams had to be muffled by a gag stuffed into her mouth so as not to attract unwanted attention from their predators and compromise the safety of the whole group.
As Emma hurries to Ruby's side, she struggles to chase away the memories. The most important thing right now is Ruby's well-being and the fact that her baby is on the way.
Which is... great.
The timing couldn't be more perfect, Emma thinks, though she doesn't dare say it out loud. If Mary Margaret went all scary and feral while giving birth to her little brother, it doesn't take a genius to do the math using a werewolf in the equation. Even Emma knows that. Which is why she chooses to focus on other things.
Like, how in hell she's going to get them both out of this mess.
"Hey, Rubes. How is it going there?" The blonde kneels beside her friend, offering her hand as support.
"What do you think?" Ruby snarks, but all the sarcasm is soon gone as her words give place to an agonizing grunt.
"Right," Emma's eyes search nervously for any signs of where they might be or of the rest of the group. "How far apart are the contractions?"
"Too…fucking…close," Ruby manages to answer before letting out another cry and almost crushing Emma's fingers with her strong grip. "Where is everyone? K-Killian-?"
"I'm not sure, Rubes. Hopefully not too far away. Just like you weren't." Emma takes another look around her, but she can't see anything that might come in handy under the present circumstances, nor any signs of a living soul - or dead for the matter. Small mercies then. As far as Emma is concerned, she's had to work with less. "Can you move at all?"
"Not happening," Ruby announces breathlessly, her wet dark hair covering most of her face.
Emma gently pushes away some strands to look her in the eye.
"Hear me out Ruby, I've got to get you some help."
"No!" Ruby strongly objects, the panic clear in her blue feverish eyes. "Please don't leave me alone, Emma. The baby, this place, I need you here. If I change... I need you here to protect it from me."
"Wha- Ruby," Emma is about to argue when she hears something. Looking up, she can only glimpse the outline of what seems to be a man from a distance. He is tall and looks to be carrying a rifle. "What the hell is that?"
Following her gaze, Ruby turns her attention in the same direction, her senses sharp and alert, despite her condition. She would be able to recognize the type anywhere, something close to fear unmistakably present in her words when she says, "Emma, that's a huntsman."
.::.
It wouldn't be the first time Hook wakes up with the taste of sand and salt in his mouth and a tearing headache.
He's a pirate, after all.
It doesn't mean he appreciates the unpleasant sensation of wet sand under his body and even less the feeling of getting washed out by a wave of cold seawater with no warning whatsoever.
It's difficult to focus one's attention on details when one's too busy trying not to drown, but even so, he vaguely identifies a movement in close proximity, though he is not able to recognize exactly who or what it is, his eyes and lungs burning due to his being underwater and only now regaining consciousness.
His discomfort, however familiar, only serves to assure him that he is really getting too old for this kind of thing, even though he has no intention of admitting it out loud. That being said, it sure doesn't stop him from feeling grateful to the creature responsible for saving his sorry ass, whoever this person may be.
For a few moments, Hook just lets himself go, his body giving in to fatigue while his mind processes almost unconsciously the fact that this someone must be a merciful soul; Perhaps Swan. She certainly has a savior complex that always seems ready to kick in at the most opportune times.
But then why is she fiddling with the buckle on his belt?
He and Red haven't quite talked about being exclusive, but Swan has known about them from the start, and despite all the flirting he inflicted on her in the early days of their shared lives, she's never really shown any real interest in him or his advances.
And even if that may be the case now, it would be wildly inappropriate anyway. He's about to become a father, for Pete's sake.
Hook tries to open his eyes then, to voice some kind of protest, but another wave of saltwater washes his face.
Then he feels a tug. And, slowly, his body starts being dragged ashore, through his belt. His tight pants make the whole process more than a little uncomfortable and painful, but his groans are ignored by the force that seems keen on getting him out of the water.
At some point along the way, Hook loses consciousness again. And when he finally opens his eyes, it is to find himself under some kind of rudimentary construction that barely protects him from the strong wind and the storm that seems to be on the brink of falling onto their heads.
Opening his eyes once more, he finds company not too far, although not exactly one he had expected. A horse is standing near him. Or so it seems. A miniature horse that is, but still an equine, he has no doubts about that. But had this been his savior? And if so, Hook can't help but wonder: what kind of land has Regina led them to?
Before more questions manage to fill his mental process, a voice breaks his reverie. And the voice speaking to him seems to belong to... a girl.
A girl?
He widens his blue eyes then as if he's trying to find the missing pieces of this very confusing puzzle, and the little girl looks back at him, clearly unimpressed by the sad sack in front of her.
Now, this is a child that Hook has never seen before. Or has he? She looks familiar somehow. He blinks twice, disoriented.
When she speaks, it's in an inquisitive tone.
"Excuse me," she kneels in front of him at what she may consider a safe distance, her long dark hair in complete disarray because of the wind, as well as the effort to save his life most likely. Her voice nearly inaudible as the wind howls more and more loudly, but he manages to register the movement of her lips and understand bits and pieces of what is being said.
"Would you happen to be the Savior, by any chance?"
Perhaps he hasn't heard her right, has he?
His head hurts. So does every bone in his body. His eyelids fluttering and finally giving in to exhaustion.
Everything goes black.
.::.
Henry wakes up to the warm sensation of Pongo's tongue licking his wet face.
"Easy, boy." He manages to pet the Dalmatian's head as he tries to sit up, his back stiff from the impact suffered on his fall. Then he hears a strange sound almost drowned out by the force of the thundering storm.
A cry, Henry is quick to identify. The cry of a small child. His mind immediately goes to Evan and it's not difficult to locate the little boy not too far from where he is.
Curled up at the foot of a big tree, still wearing his yellow sweatshirt slightly grimy with mud and soaked by the rain, Evan stands out among the dark tones of the woods that surround them.
Next to him, there's a body.
Henry would be able to recognize her anywhere.
He runs as fast as he can, all the physical discomfort he's still feeling, momentarily forgotten. Evan is crying, Pongo starts howling and Regina, his mother, is lying unconscious on the ground, completely still.
Kneeling by her side, Henry struggles to find a pulse, his mind racing as he tries to understand what went wrong.
Could this have been the cost of magic?
Ever since he was a child, Henry remembers hearing about how the use of magic always comes at a price, sometimes too high to pay, and while touching Regina's neck, his own breath hitched by the fear of what he may or may not find, Henry hopes with everything in him that his mother's death is not it.
To his relief, he can detect a weak, barely perceptible, pulse. So, not too late. Not yet anyway. Which means he must get help.
Fast.
"Is she dead?" Evan's voice, small and fearful, interrupts Henry's trail of thought. "Is she gonna want to hurt us too?"
"No, buddy, she'll be fine. She's hurt, but we'll take care of her." Holding tightly to his stuffed bunny, Evan sniffles trying to hold back his tears.
Henry does his best to keep a cool head, despairing now is not going to help anyone. "Listen, Evan, I'm going to need your help. And for that, you will have to be very brave. Can you do that? Can I count on you?"
The boy looks unsure, so Henry offers him an encouraging smile before saying, "I need you to stay here with Regina. That's all. You don't need to do anything else. Just stay here with her. Holding the fort."
"You want me to watch her back?" He asks in a small voice.
"Yes, exactly that. Will you do that?"
Evan nods affirmatively, though still hesitant. Henry has no choice but to keep going. "Now, hear me out, do you see this? This is my knife, Evan. I'm gonna leave it with you, ok? So, if anything tries to attack you, do you remember what I taught you? What do you do?"
"I run and run and run and I find a place to hide." He answers promptly, his voice hoarse and childlike, sounding out of place under such hazardous circumstances.
"That's right, buddy! That's exactly what you do!" Henry gives him a quick kiss on the top of his head before standing up. "I have to go and get help, okay? But I'll be right back."
Before Henry can walk away, Evan's voice stops him in his tracks. "Henry, where's Emma? She said she would be here."
With a sinking heart, and trying to put on a brave face, Henry tells him sincerely. "I don't know, buddy. But I guarantee you that wherever she is, she is doing everything to get back to us."
As Henry walks away, he looks back again one last time, offering the boy a final encouraging smile before actually starting to run.
Henry isn't sure where he's going or even what he's looking for, just that he needs to find something, anything that can help Regina.
It is only when he comes across the paved road that he realizes something.
This is not the Enchanted Forest, but a world very similar to his own.
As a matter of fact, as far as he can tell, this could very well be the same world.
Even the landscape suddenly, the vegetation, the terrain, everything seems somehow familiar.
Following along the road, he eventually spots something. A car (definitely his world!). More specifically, a police vehicle. It looks unoccupied and there is no sign of the driver anywhere nearby. Henry tries to open its door, but it's locked.
If only he could use the radio to call for help.
From the back pocket of his battered jeans, he takes out his pocket Swiss army knife (Emma's gift on his 15th birthday) and with a whole new appreciation for a mother who's thought it important to teach him some old tricks just in case, he starts working to break it in.
Albeit not as quick as Emma, it doesn't take too long, and Henry is about to open the door when he hears a familiar click, the safety lock of a gun being unlatched; he realizes without having to look, and then a female voice informs him that he has just been caught red-handed.
"Put your hands up; Right where I can see them."
Letting out a heavy sigh, Henry does exactly as he is told.
"Now turn around. Slowly."
In doing so, he comes to face a young woman who doesn't appear to be much older, or even taller than him. She is wearing a uniform.
The sheriff's uniform.
"Please, identify yourself." A pair of dark almond-shaped eyes remain impassive as they carefully take him in.
"Henry... Swan."
"Very well, Mr. Swan. Now tell me, what exactly was going through your mind when you decided to steal Storybrooke's sheriff's car?
Henry is about to give her an explanation when the words sink in.
Wait.
What?
.::.
End - Part 1