The next day, despite everything that had happened, Mia was restless. The creature's sudden appearance, the adrenaline of the fight, and the unsatisfying answers from her late-night research session had left her feeling more determined than cautious. She couldn't stand just sitting around, waiting for something else to happen. She needed to know more about the dangers lurking in Storybrooke, even if that meant going out and finding them herself.
When school let out, Mia didn't head back to the loft. Instead, she took a detour toward the dense woods just outside town, the area where she'd heard rumors of strange things lurking. The woods were silent, the air heavy, and she could feel the prickling sensation of being watched, but she ignored it. She walked deeper, her instincts on high alert, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
After a few minutes of wandering, she spotted something unusual—a trail of footprints leading off the main path, deeper into the thick undergrowth. They looked too large for an ordinary person's and too strange to belong to any regular animal. Without a second thought, she followed them, her pulse quickening.
But before she could get too far, a low growl echoed through the trees, sending a chill down her spine. She whipped around, catching sight of a shadowy figure lurking in the distance. Her heart hammered as the creature from the alley stepped out from behind a tree, its eyes gleaming with a predatory intelligence that sent a bolt of fear through her.
It lunged forward, its movements swift and deadly, and Mia stumbled back, barely avoiding its claws. She turned to run, her mind racing with panic, but the creature was faster, closing in on her with alarming speed.
Just as she thought she was cornered, a familiar voice called out. "Mia!"
She turned to see David and Snow sprinting toward her, their expressions a mix of fear and fury. David threw himself between Mia and the creature, raising a long branch as a makeshift weapon, while Snow pulled Mia back, shielding her with her body.
David swung at the creature, forcing it to back off, and with a final snarl, it retreated into the shadows, disappearing into the depths of the forest.
Once the immediate danger had passed, Snow rounded on Mia, her face tight with anger and worry. "What were you thinking, Mia? You could have been killed!"
Mia crossed her arms, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm fine. I just… I wanted to see what was out here."
David's gaze was intense, his voice low and controlled. "Going into the woods alone, right after what happened yesterday? That was reckless, Mia. You're putting yourself in serious danger."
Mia's jaw clenched, her own frustration bubbling over. "Oh, so now you care what I do? I've been on my own my whole life, and suddenly I'm supposed to listen to you?"
Snow took a deep breath, her voice both firm and pleading. "Mia, we're not trying to control you. We're trying to protect you. There's so much you don't understand about this town, about the threats here."
"Protect me?" Mia let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "You mean like how you 'protected' me by putting me in a wardrobe and sending me away? Or like how you 'protected' me by letting me grow up without a family?"
Snow's face softened, a flicker of pain in her eyes, but her voice remained steady. "I know it wasn't fair. I know what we did hurt you. But we did it to give you a chance. We were trying to save you, Mia. And I'm sorry that it left you alone."
Mia shook her head, her voice filled with anger and resentment. "Well, congratulations. You succeeded. I've been on my own, figuring everything out by myself. And now, suddenly, I'm just supposed to let you two tell me what to do? To 'protect' me? I don't need your protection."
David took a step forward, his face a mixture of sadness and resolve. "Maybe you didn't ask for it, but that doesn't change the fact that you're our daughter. We love you, Mia. And we can't stand the thought of losing you."
Mia's gaze dropped, her anger wavering for a brief moment. But she quickly hardened herself, refusing to let the guilt sink in. "Love me? You don't even know me. I'm not some helpless kid who needs saving. I can handle myself, and I don't need you deciding what's best for me."
Snow's voice softened, though the tension remained in her expression. "Mia, it's not about us deciding what's best for you. It's about keeping you safe. You may be strong, but there are things here—things that even we can't fully protect you from."
Mia clenched her fists, fighting back the emotion building up inside her. She didn't want to hear this, didn't want to feel the pull of their concern, didn't want to admit that maybe, just maybe, she was a little scared.
"I didn't ask for any of this," she said finally, her voice low. "I didn't ask to be part of this family, or to have some… destiny hanging over my head. I just wanted to know the truth. And if that means putting myself in danger, then so be it."
Snow and David shared a look, a mixture of hurt and understanding passing between them. Finally, David spoke, his voice calm but resigned. "We can't force you to accept our help, Mia. But we're here, whether you want us or not. And we're not going to give up on you."
Snow nodded, her eyes soft but filled with a quiet determination. "Just… please, be careful. For your sake, not ours."
Mia swallowed, her defenses wavering for a moment. She felt the weight of their words, the sincerity in their voices, but she pushed it down, burying it under her frustration and resentment.
Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving them standing in the woods. She didn't look back, didn't let herself see the pain in their eyes. She wasn't ready to face it—not yet.
As she made her way back to town, her thoughts churned, a mix of anger, guilt, and a strange, unfamiliar ache in her chest. She didn't know what to do with their concern, their insistence on protecting her. She wasn't used to it, didn't know how to accept it, and part of her didn't want to.
But as much as she tried to push it away, a small part of her couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, having them there wasn't such a bad thing after all.
