SETTING: EF2 shortly after Wish!Hook’s death. If Killian and Emma had stayed in EF2 to find this missing daughter.
It had been a few years since Alice had been back to the Forest realm of her birth. That realm contained far too many sad stories. Stories that were real if she gave them much thought. Stories that hurt, and she didn’t want to feel that sort of pain. So the part of her that was still an innocent child, carefree and eager to learn and chase after flying butter and strange cats with iridescent eyes and razor sharp teeth, was content to roam from land to land to keep herself distracted so long as she didn’t have to think of reality.
But when she was most alone, had too much idle time and gave in to contemplation, the stories became her story, her reality. The truth hurt.
Years prior, she had been cursed with a poisoned heart. Unable to embrace her papa, the only person amongst infinite lands that she loved and knew without a doubt that he loved her in return, she could never touch. Just before his disappearance, the stories had become more fantastical for some reason. He’d begun searching other realms for a savior. A savior that could cure their hearts and help Alice escape the tower. Papa was certain of it. But still, his visits became less frequent and then not at all. Had he been hurt? Where was he? Had the witch gotten him?! She had no idea he’d somehow found his way to the Wish Realm.
Alice couldn’t take it any longer. She had to get out of the bloody tower!
Papa was a pirate. He knew how to do all sorts of things. Including blowing up things. And he’d told her enough of his stories that she’d gleaned off a little from the top, storing the knowledge away for when she was brave enough to use it. Perhaps she fancied herself a pirate as well. Why not? She was his daughter. She could maybe- possibly - no, certainly! - sail a ship if she had the opportunity. The opportunity to escape the tower.
Alilce had swiped his pistol and the gunpowder while he had slept in a drunken stupor. Now, that she was alone, she could use it. She’d blow the tower to the Underworld and its walls could no longer contain her!
She may have been but a small ten year old, but Alice had little fear. She could do it! The tower was blown to bits, the brave girl propelled out of the tower and into a nearby tree as tears of happiness streamed down her face as she reveled the smoking ashes of the prison, the dust and destruction floating through the air to where she watched. ‘I’ve done it! I’m free!’
Stories. Stories? What’s a story if not history? Tales of the fantastic and the timbre of her papa’s voice in memory accompanied Alice as she wandered the Forest in search of her papa. She wandered for a long time as she pondered what else she might do. If she could blow up her magical prison, she could certainly explore the realms as her papa had done. Maybe even find him. And the best way to do that was to open a portal.
The White Rabbit could do it, she’d learned from one of the stories. And after some practice, angrily shouted words of frustration, fits and tears, she created a spark. A small spark, but she could make it grow. Rounding her fingers in a wide circle, she tore a hole in the fabric of space and opened a portal. Giggling with absolute delight in the adventure awaiting, her mind still focused on the story of the White Rabbit, Alice took a running leap through and found herself in Wonderland.
And now at the age of thirteen, Alice found that she had inadvertently jumped back into her home realm of the Forest. She hadn’t meant to. She was only chasing a white rabbit, not the original of course, that had run through one of her portals. Just like that, she slipped back into the carefree imagination that distracted her from the pain of reality and chased after the rabbit. She’d catch it this time!
That little drop of blood hadn’t moved at all, and apparently the only explanation was that she simply wasn’t in this realm. They had been the same person up until Regina failed to cast her curse, his other self and him. Considering he was somewhere in the 200s, a mere 30 years difference really wasn’t that… different. The daughter of the other him would, genetically, be just as much his daughter. So that little drop of blood on the map should have moved to her location, wherever she was, so long as she was in that realm. That meant the girl was just simply… somewhere else.
They’d find a way to get to her, he knew that. But it didn’t ease the guilt he felt at knowing he had taken away yet another child’s parent. Killian took Bae’s when Milah ran off with him, David’s when he killed his father simply to leave no witnesses, Liam’s when he had killed his own father. And now this girl. Probably countless others. Even when he was simply trying to get home to his own family and acting in self defense, he destroyed things.
Self loathing wasn’t going to help him find the girl, but it was all he could do until they either found another way to track her, or that drop of blood moved. He kept checking back, hoping to see it go somewhere before it dried, but every time it was in the same spot. It wasn’t going to work.
With a resignated sigh, he pulled his flask from his pocket and lifted it to his lips. A little something to calm himself down, and nothing more. After two gulps, he capped his flask and was fully intending on returning it to his pocket, but something was different. The blood on the map had moved! Killian didn’t bother asking why as he stood from his seat.
Okay. So maybe being pregnant in the Enchanted Forest (or an Enchanted Forest, not that she’d ever really lived in the other one long enough to consider it hers) wasn’t ideal. The weird cravings were harder to satiate. The morning sickness harder to hide. And the prenatal vitamins nonexistent. So no, it’s not ideal. Or convenient. But it’s right. They’d come to help Henry start his own adventure, and in the process found themselves in the middle of their own.
See, when Hook died -- not her Hook, another one, though admittedly she’d had a hard time telling them apart at first -- her Hook had felt a lot of guilt. They both did. It had been her magic that failed to save him. But, her Hook had taken the brunt of it, as he did. Felt it was his responsibility to fulfil the dying man’s wishes. She got it, knew she’d probably feel the same were the tables turned. And since Emma’s wish was to not be separated from her husband… Again. They’d stayed.
What was the point of being the savior if she couldn’t bring back all the happy endings? Or, well, some version of happy anyway.
The thing was the stupid map trick wasn’t exactly working. And it should have been. She’d done it exactly as she’d seen Regina do it all those years ago in New York. But the stupid blood drop wouldn’t move. And Emma could think of only two reasons why -- either her magic still wasn’t working or the kid was dead. Neither of which she wanted to point out to Killian.
And it looked like she might not have to.
As soon as he called for her, she knew was it was about. Even if with the baby hormones she still had the gut thing. She just hoped it hadn’t been a trick of the eyes. “Hey, everything okay?” she asked, making her way toward him.
