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donteattheappleshook · 18 hours ago

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Not Broken at All Chapter 18/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Oh hey! What's up everyone?

I know it's been a while (shocking) but it's Solstice today and the muse decided something needed to be posted for this fic in honour of the fairy orgies XD

This was written super fast and not really re-read because it's already 10pm so I'll probably edit it later but I'm giving it to you all now.

Happy Solstice and I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3

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Part 18

“Doesn’t look so bad,” Will shrugs when they stand outside the mouth of the cave the next morning. Emma and Wendy roll their eyes at the same time. It does look that bad. For a place called Echo Cave she’d had expected something bigger, something louder. But all she can see as they approach is a narrow tunnel in the rockface, no sound escaping from within. So she jumps when Tiger Lily’s voice suddenly comes from within.

“You’re late.”

“Apologies,” Killian nods. “The forest has changed a fair bit since I last made the journey - it took us longer than anticipated to find the path.”

“You have a habit of doing that,” Tiger Lily scoffs. “Misinterpreting time.”

The reply is so quick, and Killian’s sigh so exhausted, that Emma has to hold back a snort of laughter.

“We came as fast as we could.”

“Come then, let’s not delay any further. The others have gathered.”

“Who are the others?” Emma asks Hook quietly as they follow.

“The eldest of those who were here before Pan. They were barely more than children when it happened, but They have some memory of how things were.”

“I thought you said they’d forgotten all their magic.”

“We did not forget,” Tiger Lily snaps from the entrance. Emma watches as the faint, gold dusting of magic that covers their skin, the only light in the otherwise pitch black cave shimmers and slides over their arm, cascading like water down through their fingers that they trail along the rocky wall, leaving flecks of sparking, gold dust in their wake. “It was taken from us. Through slaughter and cruelty. When the children who were left behind grew enough to become a threat to Pan, we were forced to lock away what little we remembered or meet the same fate.”

Every time she thinks it can’t get worse, it does. The massacre of Tiger Lily’s people and the destruction of their history, the torture and killing of the Lorelei, the horror of the murder of those boys on the beach. There’s no end it seems to Pan’s cruelty, to his thirst for blood.

Emma reaches for the shimmering of light that remains along the wall, glittering and moving with the flow of the rough surface. It glows brighter beneath her touch and something swells from deep within her, rushing to meet it, warm and electrifying, before she yanks her hand back and stumbles the rest of the way though.

The walk is long, this cave buried deep in darkness and stardust. She’s not sure she even hears it at first, a small whisper of a voice from far away, the words too quiet to make out, but repeating. As they continue along and a dim light starts to appear in the distance, they grow louder. It’s a child’s voice, rolling against the walls of the cave - wish I’d never come here… just want to go home. Just want to go home. Just want to go home….

She feels Killian’s hand on the small of her back and realizes she’s stopped walking. “It’s alright, love. It’s just an echo. The last secret that was shared here.” She still hesitates, not wanting to get any closer to the haunting voice. “Whoever they were, they’re not here anymore.”

“His name was Ruffio,” Will says, nearly as quiet as the first echo. ��He’s been gone a long time.” He only meets her eye for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing as though he hadn’t said anything. She can’t blame him. She knows by now that nobody in Neverland ever goes home. “Come on - we’ve got secrets to spill.”

The light ahead grows until finally they emerge into a massive cavern. The stone that surrounds them black onyx - gleaming faintly against the dust that covers the ceiling like a galaxy above them. The space feels boundless, endless like the darkness could go on forever and she’s reminded of their flight here, of the endless sea of stars they’d sailed in on.

There are four people standing in the center of the chamber on a platform of the same black onyx, all of them with the same sharp, androgynous features as Tiger Lily, all with the same loose-fitting clothes and cropped hair, and all with that same shimmer of living magic glowing faintly in the dark. Tink stands with them, waiting. None of them are any older in appearance than herself, but she knows better by now than to judge age or power by appearance on this island.

The Constant.

They follow the rest of the way to the narrow, stone bridge that connects the ledge to the platform on which the others stand. When Emma takes a step to follow Tiger Lily onto the bridge, Killian puts an arm out, halting her in her tracks. Emma watches, heart in her throat as the bridge crumbles after Tiger Lily, stone falling away behind every step until they reach the end and there’s no bridge at all.

“The Constant keep no secrets,” Killian explains. “The cave can’t compel anything from them. We, on the other hand…”

“Of course they don’t.” No wonder they wanted to use this place. Easy to make others share their deepest darkest secrets when you’ve got none of your own to divulge and nothing to risk. “What about Tink?” she asks, nodding at the fifth person standing with the Constant.

“The fey have wings.”

Right. “So how does this work?”

“From what I remember, you step out onto the edge and call out your secret. If it’s truly your darkest, the cave will echo it back to you.”

“And then we get across?”

“Aye, easy as that,” Killian attempts a smile, but it comes out as a wince. “I’ll go,” he offers though he looks like he’s dreading this as much as she is. She’s just thankful she doesn’t have to start. He lets out another sigh, bracing himself and then, “I kissed Emma.”

Fuck. Her heart drops into her stomach. He’s been a pirate for two hundred years - How the hell can his darkest secret have anything to do with her?

Will smirks. “Kissed? Is that what they’re calling it these days? And I think you’re forgetting that we were all there when she jumped you at Solstice.” His smirk deepens. “And when Emma came back all wet.” If Emma could reach him she’d smack him.

“I literally walked in on you,” Wendy deadpans.

“I’m not talking about Solstice,” he sighs, not rising to the bait. “It was…” She knows when it was. We’ll keep each other safe, they’d promised. She doesn’t need everyone else to know though. Not when she’s not even sure what any of it meant or what it means now. “It doesn’t matter,” Killian shakes his head. “It was what the kiss - what all of it - exposed.” Fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. “My secret is… I never believed that I’d be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah.” He breathes her name like a prayer and a wound. “To believe that I could find someone else.” His eyes lift to hers and it’s only by sheer force of will that she’s able to stop herself from taking a step back, from running away from the way he’s looking at her. Because she needs to hear this. They all do. If she wants to get across this fucking bridge, if she wants to talk to the fucking Constant, if she wants to get her son back - she needs to hear this secret as much as he needs to tell it. “That is, until I met you.”

She doesn’t know what to say or if she’s supposed to say something, can’t bring herself to look at Wendy or Will or look away from his eyes still burning into hers. And then before she even can do anything, Killian’s voice echoes through the cave, ‘until I met you’ called back to them like a ghost. A rumble follows as a section of the fallen bridge rises back from the depths below them, rock by rock, rebuilding itself.

Killian lets out a humourless laugh. “So, who’d like to go next?”

“I will.” Wendy stands with her shoulders straight, like she’s ready for a fight rather than a confession. Emma gets a sinking feeling in her stomach from the way she’s making herself look at Killian, with shame and guilt. He doesn’t look surprised - he looks like he expected this to hurt. “Sometimes… Sometimes I wish you’d never found me. Sometimes I wish you had just kept on walking that day when Pan left me to die.” She winces. “I’ll always be grateful to you for saving my life, for taking me in but…”

Killian nods when she hesitates, her eyes damp with unshed tears. “Go on, it’s alright.”

“You trapped me here, Hook. You’re the reason I have to live in this neverending nightmare. Forever. You knew what that water would do to me and I know you couldn’t ask but… you didn’t give me a choice. And I think that if I had one now - if I could have had a say in the next hundred years of my life… I’d rather you’d just let me die because this -” she gestures at herself, at everything around them. “It’s worse than death. And because of you I’ll never leave.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “I can’t even die if I want to. Not unless Pan decides that’s what he wants. You forced this life on me, Killian, you cursed me to live because it made you feel better and I don’t… I’ll never forgive you for that.”

Tears stain her cheeks now, jaw tight as she refuses to let any more follow and Emma can see the heartbreak on Killian’s face. “Wendy…” but she shakes her head and he stops the step he’d taken towards her.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes and he shakes his head this time. Her secret echoes around them like a taunt this time - ‘never forgive you for that’ - and another piece of the bridge rebuilds itself. The silence hangs between them, louder than any echo, until Will steps up.

“I suppose I should go next - while we’re on the topic of never being forgiven.” He takes his own steadying breath. “I’m dying.”

Wendy’s face falls. “... what?” It comes out cracked and small and frightened. “What do you mean you’re dying?”

The look Will gives her - there’s so much guilt there, so much pain and self-loathing and love. Emma may not know much about it but she can recognize it now in his eyes, in the way he looks at Wendy. “I lied when I told you I didn’t know what Pan did to my heart. I’ve seen him do it before.”

“One hundred years…”

Will nods, a self-deprecating smile falling flat. “I really hoped that I could keep it from you for a little longer. Neverland will slow it down but… he squeezed a hundred years from my heart. I’ll start aging faster - a lot faster - and pretty soon…”

“How long?” He hesitates a beat longer than Emma can handle - and Wendy… gods, she can’t imagine. “How long?”

“I’ll be dead in a few months - three, maybe four depending on how long I would have lived if I’d aged like a normal person but - I’m so sorry, Wen. I didn’t want to tell you, I -”

Whatever he was going to say and whatever she might have answered is stolen by the cave calling back to them in Will’s voice, ‘dead in a few months’. Nobody looks as the bridge puts itself back together, all of them too focused on the cruel revelation. He did it for her, Emma realises, for all of them but… he’s dying because of her. Wendy’s losing him because of her. Even Killian looks solemn at the news.

“Your turn, Emma,” Will chokes out with the palest attempt at levity she’s seen him manage since she met him. “Wouldn’t want to be left out of all the fun, would you?”

She looks out towards the chasm between them and the Constant. She doesn’t even know what she expected to confess, or what she’d hear confessed by those with her, and now, with the truth of Will’s fate hanging in the air, nothing feels like it matters in the grand scheme of things.

What even is her deepest secret? That she gave up Henry? That she had her heart broken by a selfish man who used her and then left her? That she spent a year of her life in jail? That she’s spent her whole life searching for the parents who left her behind? That between Neal and her parents she doesn’t think she could ever trust someone again - could ever let herself love someone again, or let them love her… That she might be anyway? None of it feels like enough; none of it even feels like a secret anymore, not since Henry found her and brought her to Storybrooke.

And then, like bile and sick, she feels something being forced up from her throat, words clawing their way to the surface and past her lips of their own volition. She can’t stop them. She doesn’t even know what she’s going to say until they come spilling out.

“I wish Henry had never come to find me. I wish he’d never brought me to Storybrooke.” The confession leaves her gasping, tears in her eyes as though she had been sick. She wants to be, hearing such a horrible truth being spoken out loud. Killian looks at her with sympathy, but she turns away from it. And once it’s started, she can’t stop it. “I never wanted to be a mother. I gave him away because I knew he’d be better off without me - but also because I knew I’d be better off without him. He’s a beautiful, amazing kid and I love him more than anything… but I never asked for this. Every day since he showed up at my door I’ve been terrified - every minute of every day. Those few minutes in the Fae forest when I couldn’t remember him were the most peaceful I’ve felt in months and when it all came flooding back it just reminded me of how much simpler my life was before I had to be anything to anyone. I don’t want to lose him. But I never wanted to find him either.”

The bridge rebuilds itself, completing the path across as the worst thing she’s ever said, ‘never wanted to find him’, is echoed back to her cruelly. She feels drained, numb, and she wonders if the others are feeling this horrible emptiness too. She looks out at where the Constant wait. If this is their idea of having them prove their allegiance, they better be ready to give theirs in return.

“Come on, Swan,” Killian tells her, leading her across the bridge. None of them say a word, Will and Killian both casting glances at Wendy who won’t look up from her feet, and the silence follows them the whole way across.

“That sounded rough,” Tink comments when they reach the platform, the five Constant talking in harsh whispers in a language she doesn’t recognize.

“How lucky of you to have missed it then,” Will snips. He must be feeling worse than Emma realized.

There’s an argument starting, still in that foreign language, but she can tell just the same. Every few words there’s a glimpse of something that feels familiar, a syllable from another language she’s heard, a word that could be French or Spanish, a glimpse of English, not one language but many - like every language spoken at once.

“This meeting has been a topic of some controversy,” Killian whispers. “But I think Tiger Lily might be on our side.”

“You can understand them?”

He shrugs. “One picks up a few things after two centuries.”

There’s a small scoff from Tink. “Yeah, all that pillow talk was really educational.”

Killian ignores the quip. “They’re the keepers of the last of the forgotten history of the old Neverland.” He nods at each as he names them. “That’s Philodendron, Halcyon, Alder, Jacaranda, and you know Tiger Lily.

“Tiger Lily is one of them?”

“Tiger Lily was the oldest Constant to survive the massacre. They were just shy of a century when Pan took over.”

“A century?”

“The Constant are eternal, love. A century is nothing.”

The Constant have gone silent, a tense, begrudging conclusion to their argument that Emma can feel even if she doesn’t know the words.

Finally, Tiger Lily speaks. “Tinkerbell tells us you wish to unearth the secrets of the island - secrets that were buried to keep us safe.”

“Secrets that could return the island to the way it once was if you ally with us against Pan,” Killian counters.

“If our knowledge could have defeated the boy,” Alder interjects, “we would have done so a millenia ago when he first laid waste to this island.”

“Maybe your knowledge alone couldn’t defeat him, but we have the Lorelei on our side, and the fae,” Wendy adds, gesturing at Tink.

Alder scoffs. “You have one fairy. One who’s been without magic for almost five hundred years, who’s magic was corrupted by the very demon you seek to destroy. Our magic was born from the innocence and dreams of children, the purest light magic there is, and even it was snuffed out by Pan’s darkness. What chance have you with a weakened fairy and the duplicitous sirens?”

“We have more than that,” Tink interjects, bitterness and insult obvious in the bite of her words. “We have her.” It takes Emma a moment to realize that she’s the one being gestured at and now every set of eyes is on her.

“Me?”

“Her?” Wendy frowns.

“You can’t honestly tell me you haven’t noticed. She practically reeks of magic. It’s spilling out of every pore. I clocked it as soon as she got here.”

“I don’t have magic.” The Constant continue to stare, questioning, doubting. “I don’t. Don’t you think if I did I’d have used it by now to get Henry back?”

“Not if you weren’t aware of it, love,” Killian offers gently.

“Okay but I’m not some fairytale character; I’m from Boston - the land without magic. I don’t have any power.”

“Oh for…” Tink swears under her breath, crossing the room and grabbing Emma’s wrist. Faster than she can stop her, the fairy pulls a small blade from the complicated twist of pins and leather that keeps her mass of blonde hair piled on top of her head, ivory handle embellished with gold runes, and slashes it across Emma’s palm.

“Ow! What the hell!” Emma shouts, yanking her hand away. That fucking hurt. Tinkerbelle doesn’t resist, the rest of their small crew moving to intervene, but all at once, they freeze. Emma follows their gazes to her hand, clutched tightly in a fist to her chest and her breath catches. There’s light seeping through the cracks in her fingers, golden and swirling like smoke, shimmering like the magic that flows over the Constant’s skin.

Jacaranda reaches a hand out to her, palm upturned in a request and Emma looks to the others before carefully placing her hand in theirs. Carefully, the Constant unfurls her fingers, examining the light that shines from her wound with a careful touch. Their eyes go wide. “This is our magic,” they say, voice soft and tinged with awe. “Ours and… something else.”

“May I?” Philodendron asks, extending their own hand. Emma nods, even as the urge to refuse shouts at her. You don’t have magic. You’re not magic. You’re a goddamn bail bonds person from Boston, not a fairytale character. Philodendron looks at her after taking a moment to examine the wound themselves. “This is light magic,” they confirm. “It’s raw and untapped but powerful, more powerful than anything I’ve seen since before Pan’s time.” They twist her hand a bit, trying to look closer, to read something in whatever they see that Emma can’t. “But this isn’t born of belief and dreams as ours is, it's the product of something else… of -”

“True love,” Emma breathes out, so low she doesn’t mean for anyone to hear it. Henry had said that hadn’t he? That she was supposed to be the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, that she was supposed to be the Saviour.

“Yes, that’s it,” Philodendron nods slowly. “You were right, Tinkerbelle. This is more powerful magic than we anticipated.”

“Can you use it?” Emma asks, still not believing it really, but if it means they’ll help her get her kid back, she doesn’t care what she has to do.

“That depends,” Halcyon takes a step forward. “Can you wield it?”

“No, I…” she doesn’t even know how this is possible.

“I can.” They all turn to Tink, Emma cradling her hand to her chest once more. “If you tell me what we need to do, I can guide her. But you’ll have to let me.” The last bit is directed at her and she hesitates… Tink hasn’t exactly made a secret of the fact that she’s not a fan of hers, and she just slashed her damn hand open… Trust already isn’t her strong suit to begin with. “I’m not going to steal it,” Tink snaps and looks genuinely offended and Emma remembers that she knows what it is to have her power taken from her.

“I know you won’t. I just… what if it doesn’t work?” How powerful could this magic be? She’s not anything special, she never has been. Why would this be any different?

“Then I guess you don’t get your kid back.”

“Tink,” Killian warns but Emma can’t help but appreciate the fairy’s bluntness.

“What do we need to do?”

“This cavern, ” TigerLily starts, taking a knee and placing a hand reverently on the stone, “used to be a sacred place. It held all of the secrets of Neverland, and the dreams of children who visited - the purest and most honest of truths of all - fueled the island as it did our magic. This was its source - the source of everything.

“But then Pan tainted this cave with his twisted version of secrets as power, as something to be wielded, and forced us to sacrifice the last of the light magic that still breathed life into Neverland, the cavern shielded itself from his darkness. Now it echoes truths rather than accept ones taken maliciously. This place… has seen nothing but darkness for centuries. It has not been sleeping, but fighting, the last of the resistance against Pan right under his nose, keeping the darkness at bay and it has hardened. We need to remind it what the light looks like.”

“It can have mine. Whatever this is. If it can help and if this place can defeat Pan it can have all of it.”

Tiger Lily smiles kindly. “Not all of it. It would never snuff out your light. But even the slightest kindling can spark an inferno and with it you can breathe magic back into the island.”

“How?”

They nod to Tink who retrieves her knife again, slashing her own palm this time, the light that glows from her wound a shimmering green, and holds her hand out to Emma. Heat burns across her skin when she takes Tink’s offered hand, the light between them growing, shining and mixing. Tink places her other hand on Tiger Lily’s shoulder and the Constant flattens both their palms against the stone beneath them. After a moment, they look to Emma and she knows she’s doing it wrong. She’s not doing anything but she’s doing it wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

Tiger Lily shakes their head, their smile not malicious, but understanding.

“I have met so many lost boys and girls on this island. So many broken, hardened children lead here by fear and hurt and neglect, so afraid to trust, to love, to admit or even accept what they want, what they desire more than anything - what has been robbed of them. This place is born of dreams and truths and you, dear Swan, strong Swan, brave Swan… frightened Swan, have locked yourself away from both.”

“But I already told this place my darkest secret.” But she doesn’t need Tiger Lily to tell her - this place echoes darkness, resists darkness. That secret was Pan’s magic - not Neverland’s.

“What do you dream of, Emma? What truths do you keep from yourself?” Emma opens her mouth to speak but Tiger Lily holds up a hand. “Do not tell them to me. Tell them to the lost girl. Unburden her.”

What does she dream of? Things she can’t have, things she’s never had, things that were taken away. She wants to find her parents, that’s no secret though, she’s always known that. She wants them to have never given her up in the first place. She wanted a family, the one she could have had with Henry and Neal if he hadn’t turned out to be the vile person he was, the life that she’d had just a glimpse of after one missed period, before everything went to shit. She doesn’t want that anymore. She hasn’t let herself want any of it since then, not love, not family, not hope…

Her skin begins to warm, something flaring beneath the surface. Liar. She doesn’t know if it’s the cave or herself or her magic but it echoes through her like her secret against the walls. Tiger Lily accused her of locking herself away from her dreams, from her truths, but can they even still be truths if they’ve been silenced and stomped down for decades?

She thinks of the lost girl she was, abandoned, a runaway on the street, burning the last of her childhood, of stupid fairytales and stories to keep warm in a world that was only ever cold. What had that girl wanted? Powerless, lost, alone. That girl who felt like nothing, who meant nothing to anyone, who had never mattered and never would, who had only herself to take care of her. She wanted to matter - to someone, to herself, she wanted people to matter to her, to be able to let them. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. Even as she pushed away every foster parent, every friend, every lover as she grew older, she didn’t want - she doesn’t want - to have to do it alone.

That’s what she dreams of, what she refuses to admit that she dreams of. That for all of her rightly earned distrust of everyone, for all of her caution and her fear of abandonment, of love and hope, she wants to be able to let them in, let them matter. She wants to believe that she could have that happily ever after that she’s scorned all her life.

Images flash in her mind as the heat builds, her body tingling, a faint glimmer of light shining against her shut eyelids. Henry smiling in her doorway in Boston, Mary Margaret offering her a home, Killian bringing her to Neverland, Wendy helping her hide from Pan, Will sacrificing himself for her, Killian nearly sacrificing Milah’s name - sacrificing his memories, all of them banding together to help her save her kid, even Tink now, helping her to wield magic she doesn’t understand.

She’s not alone. She’s not in this alone. For the first time in her life she has people she can count on. People she can trust. She thinks of the smile Henry gave her when she let him know she wasn’t going to leave Storybrooke even though she could, of Mary Margaret’s pep talks, of shared hot chocolate and drinks and advice in their apartment, of Killian in that dank brig after one of the worst hours of her life - perhaps I would - of his words whispered in the quiet darkness of his cabin - I’m here. You don’t have to ask - of his confession echoing around them - until I met you. She does matter to people. She’s not nothing. She was never nothing. She matters and she has people who matter to her.

Her whole body alights, the blood in her veins not blood anymore but something else, something powerful and she can feel it surging beneath her skin, pulled by a force as it rushes through her and towards that opening in her palm. The white of her light overtakes the green and Tink’s body jerks like the surge of magic is as jarring to her as it is for Emma. Tiger Lily gasps, the ground beneath them starting to glow, tendrils of golden light snaking towards them across the stone like rivulets. Their body starts to shimmer, the dusting of gold shining brighter until their skin is swallowed by it completely.

Emma can feel sweat beading on her skin, the salt mixing with the tears she hadn’t realized she’d been crying. She doesn’t know how much longer she can keep this up, the power coursing through her overwhelming. Tink’s hand is shaking in hers, both their palms damp and slippery and white knuckled and she can’t imagine how much more effort the fairy is putting in as the one actually channeling all of this.

“There’s so much,” Tiger Lily says in awe. “We’ve forgotten so much.” Their eyes are glowing with the same gold that covers their skin, their mouth pulling into a smile even as tears roll down their cheeks.

“I can’t -” Tink starts, but doesn’t let Emma release her hand when she tries to stop.

There’s another moment, the light engulfing the Constant almost completely, so bright Emma has to look away, before finally, suddenly, it stops. The three of them slump against the ground with a gasp of exhaustion. Emma doesn’t even turn when she feels hands on her shoulders, helping her to sit up, she knows it’s him. Wendy is at Tink’s side helping to support her as well as the Constant circle around Tiger Lily, all of them holding one another in a moment that feels beautiful and private as joy and heartbreak play over their faces.

“Can you. Stop him?” Tink pants out.

“I… I think so. There’s just - there’s so much. I need time to sort through it all.”

“We don’t. Have. Time.”

“All of the secrets of Neverland, millennia’s worth, have just been poured into my mind. It will take me more than a few minutes to understand it all and find what will help us.”

“How much time?” Emma asks. Henry’s already been here too long - too long without knowing that she’s here, that she’s coming for him.

“I don’t… give me a few nights at least. Come back in three days. That should give me time to make sense of what is needed at least.” Their eyes are far away, like they’re not seeing the cavern around them but something far bigger and far more extraordinary.

Emma nods. “Three days?”

“Three days. And then we’ll rid this island of its false king forever.”

***********

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