Sins of the Past - Part 4
Fanfiction_Once Upon a Time
Fictober 2023_Prompt 7: “Do you recognize this?”
Fictober 2023_Prompt 18: “We can’t do this on our own.”
Summary: A continuation of Sins of the Past. Part 4.
Author’s Note: Sorry it took me so long, y’all. Doubling up because I’m behind.
...
“Emma!” Ruby fell against the bedroom door, hammering her fists hard at the wood.
“Move!” David commanded, running at the door with his full force. He bounced off the wood, flying backwards, and hit the wall behind him.
“David!” Mary Margaret knelt by his side, checking for injuries. The look on his face was a stunned panic.
“Magic,” he said quietly, looking from her to the door.
“Dark magic,” Leroy acknowledged gravely, his natural frown deepening.
“We can’t do this on our own,” Ruby said, turning to face them. “We’re going to need help.”
“Blue?” Mary Margaret offered, still holding her dazed husband.
“I’ll go.” Ruby took off for the front door.
“I’ll get the dwarfs,” Leroy added, following the brunette at a slower pace.
“Oh, Archie,” Marco said quietly, clutching his hat in his hands. “Please, please hold on, my friend.”
….
Emma looked around the room she was in. It felt vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it. The room was dark, cramped with four twin beds, and the smell of urine was palpable. “They catch you trying to run again?” A voice devoid of emotion came from one of the beds, and a boy rolled over to stare at her. His hair was greasy, his clothes ill-fitting and stained, and his eyes were dull. “Might as well give it up, Swan. You’re never getting out of here.”
Emma’s brow furrowed. There was something she was supposed to remember, like a tickle at the back of her brain. It felt important, but what?
“She’ll never learn,” another voice added from the doorway. An older girl with the same dull look in her eyes stood there in similar dingy clothes. “No one cares about you. No one’s coming for you.” She strode across the room, towering over Emma. “You’re worthless,” the girl sneered. “Just. Like. Us.”
The girl moved past her to another bed and flopped down. Emma turned to look at the doorway, and caught sight of her reflection. Young, maybe thirteen. She felt so much older. She looked like she’d been in a fight – a dark bruise was forming on cheek.
“Might want to make yourself scarce,” the girl said, rolling over to face the wall. “There’s more of that when Queenie gets home.”
The itching at the back of her mind intensified. What….?
“Queenie,” Emma repeated, reaching up to touch her cheek. “Home.” She winced at the touch. “But this isn’t home,” she murmured, turning around to examine the room further.
The boy snorted. “’Course not, but it’s better than the streets.” He paused, then added, “But barely.”
…..
The wagon moved along at a brisk pace, and Jiminy rushed to keep up. He knew if he couldn’t match the pace his parents would force him to ride in the back, and it felt too much like a cage for his comfort.
“That was fun, wasn’t it, son?” Martin’s voice called from the front of the wagon. Jiminy wondered how long he could wait before he replied.
“Oh, don’t pressure the boy, Martin,” Mryna said. “He’s still learning the trade. Don’t worry, son. We’ll make an excellent thief out of you yet.”
Jiminy felt his heart sink, and his pace grew slower. “You’re absolutely right, Mother! Oh! And one more thing – happy seventh birthday, son.”
Seven? But he was twelve, wasn’t he? Or was it… something felt off, like a dream he couldn’t quite hold onto. There was something nudging his mind, whispering in a voice he couldn’t quite hear. The wagon continued on ahead, and Jiminy stopped for a moment staring at his hands. So small and agile. They’d already taught him how to pick a lock and lift a purse. What else was there?
“Yes siree,” Myrna sang. “We have a lifetime to perfect our art. C’mon, Jiminy, catch up. We aren’t quite done yet.”
A hopeless feeling began to settle into his young heart, one he didn’t quite understand. A lifetime. He had a lifetime of this misery, and no way to escape. He wanted to cry, but when he looked up he saw how far away the wagon was, and kicked up his legs in a sprint to catch up.
….
Blue took in the destruction of Archie’s home as she stepped inside. Marco had busied himself by sweeping up the glass, and trying to straighten up a bit. It gave his hands to do, and preoccupied his mind from what might be going on behind the bedroom door.
The magically locked bedroom door.
Blue walked slowly, carefully through each room. Her eyes were scanning the house for something, but she said nothing as she went. The others gave her a wide berth as she moved, her fingers trailing over bits of furniture, books spines, pictures on the wall. She opened cabinets in the kitchen, pulled out drawers, but continued walking in silence. She walked by the trashcan near the back door, stopped, turned, and walked back. She stood there for a moment, silently staring at the trashcan before triggering the foot pedal. She inhaled sharply before reaching in with both hands. Marco’s hands fluttered to his heart as Blue pulled out two dolls – a man and a woman of crude fashioning – and placed them on the counter.
“Do you recognize this?” She asked, never taking her eyes off the dolls.
Marco nodded, horrified. “My parents,” he whispered. His voice broke, and he took a minute to gather himself. “Jiminy made a deal with Rumplestiltskin so he could escape his parents. They switched the vials. He didn’t mean for this to happen.” He looked around the room, his eyes pleading with the others. “He has grieved about it for so long. Why would he have them?” He asked Blue.
“Was he trying to bring them back?” Mary Margaret asked, and Blue shook her head. Her eyes never left the dolls in front of her.
“What has been done cannot be undone. Archie knew that from our time in the Enchanted Forest. These seem,” she waved a hand over one, then drew it back quickly as if it stung. “They’d been tampered with, manipulated somehow.” She cocked her head to the side, frowning. “It’s dark magic, which normally means Gold or Regina, but…,” she paused, leaning in and sniffing. “There’s something else here.” She stepped back, straightening her back. “It will take some time for me to figure it out.”
“Our daughter is trapped in that room,” David cried, thrusting a hand at the door.
Blue looked up, her jaw set. “Your daughter is the savior of this town. If anyone can stop or break what’s happening in that room it will be her.” She paused, her features softening. “We must have faith Emma and Archie are strong enough to persevere.”
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