Rogers

She’d keep pouring drinks and make sure to keep her ears open—that was the deal Roni had made with Henry and Detective Rogers a few nights ago when they agreed to cooperate and take down Victoria Belfrey.

By all means, it was a stupid idea. Roni had already pushed her luck once when she’d broken her word to hand over her bar to Victoria. She’d seen the woman’s wrath before, she’d just recently faced it herself the day both she and Jacinda had stood up against her (she could swear fumes were coming out of Belfrey’s ears as she’d stormed out of the bar) and the mission she’d just taken on herself wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe Victoria was right, maybe she couldn’t win. But it didn’t matter anymore.

It didn’t matter because for the first time in a very long while, Roni was hopeful. A glimpse of inspiration in the form of Jacinda made her realize how much her town and her bar (her home) meant to her. Hyperion Heights didn’t deserve to suffer because of one bully like Belfrey. No. That witch was determined to make the rules and Roni would be damned if she’d let another day pass without doing anything against it. It was time to stop hiding behind her bar and shots and start fighting for her life. Start fighting for a better future for herself and her town.

Roni would gladly take a front row seat to witness the woman’s downfall. She didn’t even have to think twice before getting involved with Rogers’ plan to dig up all the dirt against Victoria Belfrey, and as the bar owner, Roni had the most valuable asset of all: Alcohol.

Oh, the amount of times she’d witnessed some drunk fools spilling all their secrets (and dear God, how she wished she could just forget some of the things she’d heard). Victoria Belfrey was hiding something and if someone else was involved in her dirty work, it was only a matter of time before some idiot would get too drunk and reveal a valuable piece of information to help their case.

Today was an early morning for her. Roni’s wasn’t opened until 10am which gave her a few extra hours to set up the place. It also granted her newly formed group a safe haven to meet up when necessary before the costumers arrived. 

When she heard the loud knocks, five of them, Roni left the keg room and went to the door. No one but the one-handed detective and Henry came this early, but just to be on the safe side, Roni peeked through the blinds to confirm her visitor’s identity before opening the lock and the door for him to enter.

“The detective arrives with the bear claws,” she rolled her eyes, locking the door behind the man as she glanced at the coffee and box in his hand. “Why am I not surprised.”

Cian rolled his eyes as he walked into the empty bar, immediately holding out the box for Roni to take. She could put it where she liked, and she had two hands. Much better than his one and the prosthetic. 

“Go on and laugh at the stereotype. Just happened to be convenient today.”

Stepping out from under the shelter of the overpass, the bright sunlight spilled down on the pebbled gravel between the street and sidewalk. “Why bother to play at all if you can’t see the end goals from the beginning?” she countered in curiosity, squinting at Rogers. Otherwise, it made no sense to Tilly.  Maybe it was a matter of perception, but seeing the way things worked front ways and backwards, inside and out where part of what made her tick. And how exactly she’d been able to suspect the usefulness in providing that address for someone named Eloise. The detective’s years-long mission to find that missing girl was no secret after all.

Nevertheless, she skipped backwards along the sidewalk, elbows bent, game board clutched between her hands as if it was precious. Grinning mischievously, Tilly added, “Aside from my pleasant company anyway?”

Most days Cian couldn’t tell if Tilly was wise beyond her years or simply insane. Not wanting to argue, and most certainly not understanding what she was even saying enough to counter it, he simply shrugged. “Fair point,” he conceded.

He walked a few steps behind her - or was it in front since she was skipping backwards? - and decided to just be the lookout for any poles she might encounter while she skipped.

saviorinashes:

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.

The voice shouting a name caused Alice to stumble in the pursuit of the rabbit. Whoever he was, he was near enough to have startled her. When she glanced back towards the quadruped, it was gone. Disappeared into a bush. She frowned looking after the direction it had run, but it was no longer in sight.

Stamping her foot in disappointment, Alice turned the frown in the direction of the voices. Two of them now. They were beyond the trees. In curiosity, the young girl placed a hand on the nearest trunk to glance around it, her boots and lower body still concealed by the tree.

The man and woman were looking at something white, possibly magical as the object seemed to emit a light. The way the two were dressed was quite odd. Had Alice confused where she’d ended up? Alice turned her confused expression towards the trees that surrounded her. Sniffed the air. Bent and plucked a lichen from an above-ground root. No. This was indeed the Forest. So what the bloody hell were folks dressed like that for? She wondered. And she had an intention of asking. Why bother being curious when an answer awaited?

She leaned further out from the tree, still gripping the trunk and holding the lichen, when she caught sight of the man’s face. An all too familiar face! Could it be? But why was he so young again? He must be cured! “Papa?”

Alice stepped away from the tree, forgetting about the odd clothing, and glanced quickly to the woman - not familiar - back to the man. “You’re here…” There was no disbelief in her voice, just amazement. Her eyes watered in unabashed joy after three long years of traveling and separation, wondering, and fearing for his possible death. It must have been fate that had sent her back to this realm at this particular time. All thanks to the lucky rabbit.

Killian didn’t dare touch the map, fearing it could disturb the blood that had finally moved. It had shot across the thing and had moved quickly, sporadically. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he assumed Emma could. Or at least that they’d be able to together. He jumped to his feet when he heard her coming and rushed up to meet her.

He tried not to look too hopeful as he reached for her hands. “The blood finally moved.” Looking over to the map, he almost thought perhaps the blood would have been back to its original point. How long had they been looking for the girl with nothing to show for it? But no, the trail of blood was still there. What was strange was where the head of the bead was now, though. It was… almost on top of them.

“Papa?”

Well… the blood worked. Killian’s breath hitched, realizing just how unprepared he was for this. Find the girl was step one, and he hadn’t thought of much else beyond that. How was he going to do this? Tell her that he wasn’t actually her father, hers was dead. Killed by himself, in fact. But why doesn’t she come with him anyway? He didn’t dare turn towards the voice, not yet. Without a decent plan in mind, he was at a loss. This wasn’t something he was use to. Brave a storm, done. Confront an enemy, absolutely. But what Killian always found incredibly difficult was facing those he had wronged, and despite trying his best to do that over the years, it never got easier.

Tilly had definitely followed the right trail judging by the way he reacted to the name Eloise. It didn’t seem that he was interested in providing any information on what he knew either. Didn’t matter at all. 

Without realizing it herself, what she needed was approval, a nod of a job well done, and it seemed she got it. There was no real reason she could see that the detective would care to play a game of chess with her every now and then, but she wouldn’t say no to free food and entertainment every now and then. Besides, his company was easy going. Not pushy at all. Patient. Something she hadn’t been around much in her lonely life. 

Biting her lip with the grin, Tilly nodded as she tucked the bag under her arm. “The middle of the game? Pshh. We can start at the end of the game this time, just before Mate, and think backwards,” her pointer fingers rolling in opposing directions of one another, “like rewinding. If we can see the end goal, anything is possible, yeah?”

At the end? Cian blinked and shook his head. “The end? If we know the end, then why are we bothering to play?” That made no sense. It was like starting at the end of a book or movie. If they knew how it was going to play out, then why play?

Sometimes he couldn’t tell if Tilly was simply mad or if she was a genius. If it was the latter, her intellect was far beyond his own understanding a majority of the time. If that was how she wanted to play today, though, well he would play along.

Tilly ignored the remark about her eating habits. If she said anything about anything else she fancied, something told her he’d probably bring it and much as she liked food in general, she didn’t want her marmalade sandwich wealth to be cut off in favor of something else. Something less… her.

She tilted her head drastically to catch a different view, hair hanging vertically to the ground as gravity provides, and observed Rogers opening the receipt paper. “Funny. I thought you could read. How’d ya get to be a fancy detective then?” Raising a hand up over head, she grabbed the bag that contained the chess set and stepped away from the troll’s fingers and stood on tip toe as she glanced at the sloppy handwriting on the paper. Yep. Legible enough. 

“So. Where’s your ride? Don’tcha want to go find out what’s there? Word is there’s someone there that’s got no recent history. No story. Just a name. Eloise… Ringing any bells?” Her bright, blue eyes looked back up merrily at the prospect of an adventure. Maybe she’d get to go along and finally do something in this dull town where everything seemed to remain the same.

He rolled his eyes at her ribbing, but otherwise he made no comment. She could joke all she liked, but it was still a receipt with naught but an address written on it. He liked Tilly, but not enough to simply go somewhere without knowing what he was going there for.

His head snapped towards her at the name. Eloise? The case he had been working for so long. How had Tilly found something that he hadn’t? Tucking the paper into his back pocket, he decided he certainly would check it out. Hopefully it would lead to something.

Money was going to get tight. Suspended from the coffee shop for a week for snarking off! As if everyone hadn’t noticed that a certain snob had put her skirt on backwards. Tilly had done her a favor at pointing it out. Perhaps she shouldn’t have done so during the lunch rush the day before, and when the news reporter was recording a story on some new high rise that would block the sunrise’s rays from reaching Tilly’s single window apartment.

Well, it didn’t matter much to Tilly. She spent more time lurking about the city and hanging around the Troll anyway. Something about the grotesque artwork under a bridge felt more like home to her than the Cracker Jack box of an apartment she slept in.

Tilly had lost track of the time as she lamented over what wasn’t fair with the world when a familiar voice caught her attention. There had been no car door’s slam to alert her of his approach, but as her head popped up over the troll’s knuckles, a broad smile bared her teeth. She reached out and snatched the bag and dropped it delicately in her lap, bouncing slightly with giddiness at the prospect of free food. Especially over what she assumed was in the sandwich. The bag’s other contents: a board and the intricately carved chess pieces. “You brought my favorite?” With the plastic wrap peeled back, she took a bite, still grinning at the taste of marmalade and eyeing the detective. Her prior worries forgotten for the moment. Something about him, and not the fact that he brought her food and a game of chess every now and then (not that she’d ever complain about either), put her at ease as if things might turn out sunny side up. Silly and optimistic as it sounded, just that he brought her her favorite was enough. 

“Got something for ya,” she said through the bite still in her mouth. Standing from her spot, Tilly pulled a sheet of receipt paper from her back pocket of her shredded jean shorts as she carefully leaped down from the top of the knuckles to the street below so that she could lean back against the tall fingers with a contented sigh at the sight of the remainder of the sandwich in her other hand. Shaking out the torn and badly wrinkled paper, it was offered over. “Sorry about that. Ran out of paper.” There was rough scribbling upon it. An address to be specific. “Might be worth a look…”

“I’ve never seen you eat anything else,” Cian snarked as he watched Tilly dive right in to the sandwich he had brought for her. She reminded him a lot of Brooke, despite clearly being several years older than his daughter. She just had very childish mannerisms, and Cian found that... refreshing.

“Something for me?” he asked as she jumped down from the Troll. “Why, it’s not even my birthday.” Scrunched up receipt paper normally wouldn’t look like a gift people would be glad to receive, but this was Tilly. If she didn’t have him something odd, he would think she was sick.

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.

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.

He ordered a side of fries and by the look of his grin, she was pretty sure he was humoring her, but she was still quick to reach for her order pad and jot it down. He’d thank her for it later, she was sure. Odette had eaten a lot of things from their menu – during times of financial instability their cook was nice enough to throw any meals sent back to the kitchen her way – and she knew for a fact the fries were the only item that was consistently good. He seemed nice, for a cop, he deserved a nice meal. 

And it was that nice quality about him that had her feeling a bit guilty when she saw his cheeks flush just so. She hadn’t meant to embarrass him. But even in her guilt she could help but think he wore it well. Along with being nice, Officer Stake Out (pun intended) was actually… kind of cute. A combination that had always been a bit dangerous for Odette. And her heart.

“No,” she was quick to assure him. “Well – yes, actually – but only me. I’m pretty good at noticing those things.” In another life, she might have even been a cop herself. Though in her actual life she’d noticed a long time ago, the same traits that made for good police officers also made for pretty good criminals. 

She shrugged, “Your guy seems pretty clueless.”

His eyebrow raised involuntarily as she admitted she was good at noticing ‘those’ things. “Oh? Stake out things? And why might that be?” Cian was amused. Did she watch a lot of cop shows? He’d gone to one of those parent career days at his daughter’s school, and the other parents seemed to think they knew how to do his job simply from watching TV. The number of times he had pointed out that it was a television show didn’t seem to change their minds, either.

Cian looked over at his suspect, considering him for a moment. “Aye, he certainly appears that way.” Appears being the key word there. Cian was certain the man was on something today, for he was typically a bit more observant. But if Cian was slipping, then he supposed it was a good thing the man seemed less on edge today.

“Steak,” she chuckled - more out of surprise than amusement - as she scribbled down the order. She wasn’t trying to be rude, honest, it was just that, well – “Most people here don’t bother ordering anything that doesn’t come with fries,” she offered as an explanation. Emerald regulars were big fans of fries. Or onion rings, in Odette’s case. But certainly nothing healthier a caesar salad.  Not that a stake is exactly healthy, but it’s also not deep fried so, it’s probably one of the better options on their menu. 

Hopefully, the fry cook can manage a medium stake.

Taking his menu, she tucked it and her notepad under her her arm and turned to walk away. While it was clear to her that he wasn’t actually there to eat, it wasn’t her job to insert herself into the lives of her customers. And really, the diner was busy enough. There was plenty she could do to keep herself occupied, it was just – 

“You know,” she said, voice low as she turned back to the detective. “If you stare at that guy any harder, he’s going to get spooked.” Granted the guy looked kind of slow, from her perspective. But even the dumbest criminals were sort of aware of their surrounding. She should know, she used to make living off of those kinds of dirtbags

He wasn’t sure what was so funny about his order, unless the steak was bad. Maybe it was, they certainly seemed more like a burger joint than anything. But Cian hadn’t actually been looking over the menu, and it was the first thing he saw.

“I suppose I could get a side of fries,” he responded with a grin. As soon as her back was turned, he looked back over at his suspect. Do something illegal, he thought as he watched the man. Not that he actually wanted to make an arrest... but he knew this guy was dirty, and the sooner he showed his true colors, the sooner Cian could go home to his daughter.

Odette had worked a lot of jobs in her 34 years. Like a lot. Not all of which had been good. Or, you know, strictly legal. Which was probably why she was so adept at spotting a cop from a mile away. Or, in her case, a dining room away. Not that it was particularly uncommon. Emerald diner was just enough of a dive to appeal to the Seattle PD – cheap and greasy. Not the best food you’ll ever eat, but the staff is nice and the bathrooms are relatively clean. 

Plus it helped that those were basically the same qualities that the criminally inclined citizens of Hyperion Heights looked for in a meeting establishment. Win/Win. All they needed was a ‘free donut’ sign to be consider a police haven, or something. 

So it wasn’t an anomaly or anything for Odette to serve a member of the police force, it was just that this one, in particular, stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe because he was alone. Or the way that kept eyeing the customer currently mooning over a prostitute. 

Or maybe… it was something else entirely. 

Whatever it was, she shrugged it off. The only thing that really mattered to Odette, was that he was a good tipper. Notepad in hand, she made her way towards his table. 

“You ready to order,” she asked, pen poised.

Stakeouts were boring. Tailing someone was boring. It was a lot of watching them sit there doing nothing most of the time, and despite his suspect’s taste in whores, this was turning out to be a very boring excursion.

The Emerald Diner wasn’t a place he typically found himself. It was a little too cheap for the places he went when he found himself going out to dinner. He preferred take out or cooking, and whenever he did go out to eat, he wanted it to be a treat. And the Emerald Diner wasn’t really ‘congratulations on your A in science’ material. Well, perhaps it was for some, but not for him. Though, if he couldn’t get anything worth using tonight, he imagined he’d return. This was apparently a normal outing for his suspect.

The waitress came by, and Cian supposed he could at least eat. It would make him look less odd sitting in a booth by himself. “Yeah, I’ll get the sirloin. Medium, please. And a glass of water.” He felt like he could go for something stronger, but Cian would never drink on the job. And after Brooke was born - (left on his doorstep) - he rarely drank. Water would suit him just fine, even if the night was turning out to be a bust.

Dark powers lead to dark tidings and none know this better than the Black Fairy herself. Fiona had forseen the destiny for her son in greater detail than most knew and she was aware that she would never have her happy ending - their happy ending - if his plans were to come to fruition. So when Rumplestiltskin tried to trick the Dark Swan into saving Killian Jones from their shared curse by killing him, the Black Fairy intervened.

The powers of the Dark One were siphoned from his body and returned to Rumplestiltskin, but rather than run the risk of allowing Killian to die and sending her son into the hands of his long-dead father, Fiona flung the pirate to the Land of Untold Stories.

She did not anticipate Emma Swan’s determination to be with her true love.

And so a family went in search of a lost pirate. A family became reunited. A wedding bonded two lovers together and a dark curse set itself to try and destroy light for once and for all.

Love triumphed over evil and the happy endings were returned.

Dark powers lead to dark tidings and none know this better than Henry Mills. When he went to seek his story, he didn’t know the chaos he would bring to his family. He simply wished to find the happy ending his parents had in a land where he could write his own story without abusing any powers.

His search led to another Dark Curse.

What Victoria Belfrey, formerly Lady Tremaine, plans with the small district of Hyperion Heights remains to be seen.

But Henry Mills is not alone, whether he knows it or not. His family will always find each other and together, they are stronger than any curse…

If only they had more than ashes of dreams.

An OUAT Season 7 AU with a few major canonical divergences:

Killian Jones did not die at the end of the Dark Swan plotline.

As a result, no one went to Hell; Hades was never encountered.

Robin remains alive.

Killian was found in the Land of Untold Stories and the series progressed as normal from there.

The inhabitants of Storybrooke and the Enchanted Forest are also in Hyperion Heights, including Emma Swan and Killian Jones.