BLOOD, BONE, AND STEEL (AND ENCHANTED WOOD)
--You know those commercials with the motorcycle centaurs (mototaurs? motaurs?) I ran with that. This may be weird even for ME--
Emma should know better by now. This was the third time this had happened, the third time she had run out of gas and found herself stranded on one of the empty roads joining the United Realms.
But this was the first time it had happened in the middle of the dark forest that filled in the gaps between the disparate kingdoms.
The road was narrow, barely wide enough for her Bug, and the canopy closed overhead, creating a verdant tunnel that stretched on for miles.
The forest had become strange, these past few months. Inhabited by residents that still weren't adapting to the changes wrought by the latest curse. Residents that were devolving to a more primal nature.
At least they had legs, Emma thought bitterly.
Finally, the roar of an engine cut through the eerie silence, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief as a motorcycle hurtled down the path towards her. Something that had been lurking in the undergrowth outside her field of vision crashed through the underbrush, gone before Emma could turn her head to look.
The motorcycle slowed, skidding to a stop beside her. Henry held up the gas can he was carrying and raised his eyebrows in a look he'd learned from his stepfather. "Again, Mom? This can't keep happening."
Emma rolled her eyes. "I can't see the gas gauge, you know," she scowled. "Not all of us are as lucky as you."
Henry grunted; he wouldn't call himself lucky, but he was definitely better off than his mothers. Or his step father. The motorcycle rumbled as Henry rolled forward, to the gas cap that Emma obligingly flipped open for him.
She should be embarrassed, she knew, but this was her life now. Until they figured out how to lift this curse, she has to put up with gas tanks and oil changes and flat tires and all the other problems of classic vehicles. Because now they were her problems.
The latest curse was a bizarre one. It had surged through the United Realms, transforming all mature adults into centaurs. But not just the kind with a horse's body, oh, no... there were felines, wolves, deer, cows...and vehicles. Storybrooke residents with strong attachments to certain vehicles found themselves literally becoming one with them.
Emma had found herself emerging from the Bug's hood, her torso a mix of organic and mechanical cables that vanished into the gaping maw of the hood. Her thoughts started the engine and depressed the pedals. She could open the doors as easily as flinging out an arm. The only thing she couldn't do was fill up her own gas tank, or do any sort of maintenance on the engine, which was situated in the rear of the vehicle.
Henry had fused with his motorcycle, his torso transitioning into the bike's sleek lines. He had been as upset as the rest of the residents, but Emma had seen him sailing down the road with the wind in his hair, a joyous smile on his face. Embracing the freedom, while still being able to fit inside his house at the end of the day.
Emma missed her house. Her home now was the street in front of it. To sleep, she'd draw herself under the hood, like a turtle. It wasn't comfortable. And it was very, very lonely.
Henry shut the gas tank automatically, then apologized as he remembered it was a part of his mother now. "Any progress?" he asked, pulling up to her side.
Emma sighed. She'd been spending most of her time at Regina's, working with her and Zelena to find a cure. Regina's curse was the worst; whoever had activated the curse had had a vendetta against the Evil Queen, and Regina had found herself a permanent fixture in her castle. Literally.
Zelena, at least, was mobile - but she hated having anyone see how her shapely body narrowed into a ratty old broom that swayed and lurched unsteadily.
"Nothing," Emma sighed. She started up her engine, and began chugging her way down the road, Henry easily keeping pace. "We're looking at transformation spells now, but we've found nothing even remotely similar to this." She ran a hand through her hair, which was becoming perpetually tangled thanks to driving with her head out. "I miss showers," she said wistfully. Running her head under a hose just wasn't cutting it.
At least she had that option. Killian...
Henry abruptly slewed sideways, and Emma slammed on her brakes as something stepped out in front of them. She rolled forward before finally coming to a stop inches away from a savage-looking woman with the body of a wolf.
Ruby bared her teeth, stained with blood, then flipped back a a strand of red-tipped hair before loping away without a glance back.
Emma and Henry exchanged uneasy glances. Emma worried for her. She was more wolf than woman these days.
They continued on, and Emma heaved a sigh of relief as the road joined one of Storybrooke's main roads. She and Henry parted ways, Emma heading to her parents' farm to pick up Hope.
Taking care of her daughter had become nearly impossible. She could bring Hope home to play in the yard, and Hope could sleep with her within the Bug's hood, but basic care? Emma felt helpless.
Her parents had gotten off lightly compared to others; her mother was a doe, and her father a stag. They were small enough to live indoors, and they cooked for Emma's family. While David put Hope in the Bug's passenger seat (no child seat, because Emma had no way to reach around and free her), Snow handed her a picnic basket.
Emma thanked her, letting her know what time they'd be back tomorrow, then headed to the other place where Emma spent much of her time: the docks.
The Jolly Roger was berthed at one of the slips normally reserved for the cannery, one of the only places where a vehicle could drive up to the water's edge and park safely.
The ship bobbed with the rhythm of the waves. Its prow soared through the air above her, and below it, like a dark figurehead, was Killian. Emma eyed him critically, not liking what she saw. His hair and beard were a wild tangle, his skin weathered from constant exposure to the elements. His clothes were stiff from the salt, and fraying badly because changing clothing regularly had become an ordeal.
He appeared to be asleep, eyes closed and arms folded across his chest, but at Hope's excited "Dadada!" his eyes opened, and he grinned down at the tiny girl pounding on the window. Emma hid a wince; Hope didn't understand that Mommy felt that.
She opened the door, and Hope toddled out and shot straight towards Killian's arms. Emma snagged her before she could get too far, grabbing the toddler and lifting her into Killian's embrace.
"How was your day?" Emma asked as Killian lowered Hope back into Emma's waiting arms. She attached the leash to the little harness and life jacket the child wore, so they could eat in peace without fear of their daughter trying to take a dive into the ocean.
"Went for a sail," Killian shrugged. It wasn't like he had much else to do. "Ran into Leroy. Almost literally." The dwarf had restored a boat of his own, and now he was seabound, like Killian. "He told me the Roger made my bum look big," Killian pouted.
Emma looked up from the chicken tender she was cutting for Hope and flashed him a grin. Before she could respond, Killian whined, "Swaaan!"
She told him about her day, about the progress (or lack thereof) they were making. After they finished eating, Hope began to chant, "Boat! Boat!"
"How about it, Swan? Fancy a sunset cruise?" He asked hopefully.
The Jolly Roger shifted, as Killian moved several tons of ship into position. He turned, offering his broadside, and lowered the gangplank. Hope tried to dash up it, but was pulled up short by the leash. Emma drew her back, so she was sitting beneath the hood by Emma, and carefully drove up the wooden gangplank, which was barely wide enough for the Bug. It bent under her weight, but held securely, and soon she was on board, maneuvering around the small space so she was facing forward before letting Hope run wild.
There was a bite to the wind, a sign of approaching winter. They HAD to find a way to reverse the curse before then, because otherwise too many people would be trapped outside to face the harsh Maine winter. Her parents were prepared to take Hope, if it came to that, but Emma didn't want to think about that. And Killian... he'd be trapped on the water, rarely able to see either of them because the docks would become to slick, too dangerous for her tires.
But she wasn't going to think about that now. Now, she was just going to watch the sun go down and the stars come out with her family.
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