Finding Happy Endings: Voices in the Darkness (1/?)
Title: Finding Happy Endings
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Snow/Prince Charming, Mary Margaret/David, others to be determined
Spoilers: Whole series up to this date. If I cite an episode that airs later, I will make specific mention.
Warnings: AU, some mild fairytale violence, mild language
Beta: Me, so typos likely (If anyone wants to beta...)
Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything aside from massive amounts of college debt.
Summary: Caught between life and death when the curse hit, Prince Charming remained there until Emma returned to Storybrooke and the curse began to break. Now, hovering between two lives, he must fight to remember who he is. As the curse continues to weaken, he won't be the only one.
Chapter 1: Voices in the Darkness
He was floating in darkness. He had been for a very long time. He wasn't sure how long. At first, there had been pain. His shoulder and his abdomen had throbbed insistently with every breath and every heartbeat. Slowly, the pain had faded until all that was left was a dull ache throughout his entire body, as though he hadn't moved in a long time, which he supposed he hadn't.
Occasionally, flashes of sound pierced the darkness. He could never understand what he heard. The sounds were muffled and warped. He strained to hear them more clearly, but he never managed it. Sometimes, he felt a warm, comforting, loving presence, but only for a moment before it was gone and he was left in the darkness once more, left feeling suspended from himself and from the world. He remembered nothing of the time before the darkness. He felt no desire to leave it, either.
Then something changed. He couldn't pinpoint the moment the shift occurred, but he knew that it happened. He began to feel the clothes and the sheets that were resting against his skin. He could hear beeping in the background where before he'd heard nothing. He could feel the beating of his heart within his chest. He could feel the weight of his body on the mattress. For the first time in a long time, he felt anchored to the world.
The comforting feeling that came so fleetingly was stronger, too. He ached to reach out and embrace it, somehow knowing deep in his heart that the aura surrounded a person and that that person was important. It was only in those fleeting moments that he considered fighting the darkness. Sounds were still incomprehensible to him, but they were distinguishable from one another and sometimes...sometimes he heard a light, familiar feminine voice and knew it was her, the one who brought the warmth.
He began to wonder why he was trapped in darkness. He didn't remember what had happened that had left him there. It probably had something to do with the pain he had once felt, but he wasn't sure. He began to realize that he needed to leave the darkness, that he wasn't supposed to be there, but he just didn't know how. He was tired and the darkness seemed inescapable.
A weight on the bed beside him broke him from his hazy thoughts. Never before had that happened. He felt the warmth of her presence. She spoke and for the first time, he understood.
"Look, I know this is odd, but I'm doing it for a friend. So please, just bear with me."
She shifted a bit, becoming more comfortable. He heard the rustle of pages and she cleared her throat. "As the prince chased the thief on horseback through the treacherous forest, his betrothed crossed her arms and pouted, wondering how many dreadful boring minutes it would take until they could resume their journey again..."
The story woke something inside of him, a fire that he hadn't felt in a long time, that he hadn't even remembered had ever existed. Her words faded, though her voice remained, a pleasant buzz in the back of his mind. He felt alive, even as he floated in the darkness. Images flashed through his mind. Roiling black clouds encroaching on the horizon. A beautiful dark haired woman dressed in white, her hands resting on her swollen belly. The same woman with tears tracking down her face, her hands on his face as he attempted to comfort her. He could feel her pressed against him as he kissed her passionately, desperately even. He saw a baby, still red from birth, cradled in his arms, wrapped in a wooly blanket. He felt his heart break for something he couldn't remember. Pain lanced through his shoulder and abdomen such as he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt something warm and sticky coating his side and heard her calling to him, begging him to come back to her. How he longed to, but he hadn't the strength. Then she was gone, and he was left in darkness.
He wasn't sure how long he was lost in the strange flashes, but her words once more pierced his mind. She was still reading him the story, the oh so familiar story.
"They didn't need words to express what they felt in their hearts. It was here in the shadow of the troll bridge that their love was born."
Their love! He remembered that. How he knew it he could not say, but suddenly he was filled with the knowledge that this was their story, that this woman who had been his only source of warmth in the darkness was his love. With a strength he did not know he possessed, he fought back the darkness and reached for her.
"For they knew, no matter how they were separated, they would alwa-ah!"
She gasped and stopped short when his hand touched hers. The feel of her skin was so familiar. He longed to open his eyes and gaze at her, to remind himself of her features, to caress her cheek with this thumb, to recall the color of her eyes, but his strength was spent. He could only remain still in the darkness that still chained him.
She left and his heart ached at her loss. He wanted her to stay, he wanted to hear the rest of their story. Then maybe he would remember. Maybe he the darkness would lift.
To his joy, she returned a few moments later. He heard her speaking to someone else, telling them that he had woken. The other person, a man by his voice, told her that she was mistaken. There had been no change in brain activity. The man told her that she must have fallen asleep and dreamt his movement. He fought against the darkness, trying to move as he had before so that he could defend her, but his body refused. The darkness had him in its hold once more. All he could do was lay there and listen to her footsteps fade away. He barely even noticed the other man say something to no one (at least he thought it was no one for she was gone and the man wasn't speaking with him) before leaving the room and leaving him alone once more.
He struggled against the darkness that had held him captive for so long. It was as though the darkness was alive and actively seeking to keep its hold over him secure. For the first time, he felt something that drove him to fight the darkness. He had tested the darkness out of idle curiosity before, but now he wanted to be free. The woman, he didn't know who she was, but she was important and he needed to find her, to protect her, to hold her in his arms and never let her go. His chest ached with that need.
Slowly, he pushed the darkness back. He felt wakefulness flitting around the edges of his consciousness and with an almighty effort, forced his eyes open.
The world was slightly blurred and painfully unfamiliar. He was staring up at a plain white ceiling. Turning his head, he saw a glass wall and others in another room lying on beds. The only sound was a monotonous rhythmic beeping. Something was clinging to his face. He ripped it away and tossed the thin tube aside. The movement caused pain to flair in his arm. He looked down to see a needle with another thin tube attached to it embedded in the skin in the crook of his elbow. He pulled it out quickly, barely feeling the pain. A thin trickle of blood ran down his arm. He ignored it and sat up.
His body protested after remaining immobile for so long. Tossing aside the blankets, he dragged his legs out of the bed and forced himself to stand. The floor was cold. He felt weak and shaky, unsteady on his feet, but he forced himself forward.
The glass door swung open at his touch. He stumbled through the room where the others were sleeping, searching wildly for her. But he didn't see her. She wasn't there. His gaze fell on the door at the other end of the room. Thinking that she might be in there, he staggered toward it. His weight fell against the door and it swung open. He nearly fell to the ground, but somehow managed to catch himself.
He was outside. Just a few paces away was a forest. Something tugged him forward. The troll bridge. He had to reach the troll bridge. Guided by something he didn't understand, he plowed into the trees.
It was slow going. He stumbled often. His vision was still clouded and it was dark. Often, his foot caught roots or he walked right into a low hanging branch. He fell into a bush at one point and a branch caught on something around his wrist. He yanked it free and continued on.
After what felt like and may well have been hours, he heard water running. He'd reached the bridge. His head was spinning and his breath was coming in harsh gasps. His limbs were shaking. His feet ached with every step. Darkness was encroaching on his vision again. Desperately he pushed aside. He couldn't let the darkness take him. He had to find her. He had to stay awake.
His foot slipped on a loose rock and he crashed to the ground. The sound of the water was greater than ever. He could feel it running over him. He knew he had to move, but his strength was gone and the darkness crashed back in on him more strongly than ever before, stealing all awareness from him.
When the beam of her flashlight landed on his prone body lying in the stream, Mary Margaret's heart almost literally stopped.
"Oh, god," she whispered in horror and dread that she didn't quite understand. She felt like something icy had been driven into her heart. She tossed her flashlight aside and ran to him. "Oh, god! Oh, god!"
She barely heard Graham behind her, calling for an ambulance. Panic echoed through her mind, drowning out all else. Heart squeezing painfully in her chest, Mary Margaret grabbed his arm and started trying to pull him out of the water. Graham seized John Doe's other arm and Emma go his feet. Together, they managed to heave him to the shore.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," she muttered as they laid him down and she saw how deathly pale his skin was. "I found you. It's going to be okay."
"Is he okay? Is he going to be okay?" Henry asked frantically.
Emma leapt to her feet and ran over to him. "Don't look okay. Don't look."
Sitting back to give her room, Graham watched as Mary Margaret shook John Doe. Her heart clenched painfully when she felt how cold his skin was. She bent down and listened for his breath, but there was nothing.
"Come back to us," she pleaded. "Come back to me."
Come back to me.
The words echoed through his mind. He'd heard them before and hadn't been able to answer no matter how much he wanted to. He felt something pushing against his chest and realized that he couldn't breathe. Then, warm lips pressed against his, forcing air into his lungs. They lingered longer than necessary and when they left, he felt their absence.
His lungs burned and he felt his throat clench. He coughed, spitting up water. It hurt to breathe, but the ache in his chest faded as he gulped in oxygen. He gasped, opening his eyes. A pair of hands grabbed his face, supporting him gently. A beautiful woman with short dark hair was leaned over him. She seemed familiar.
"You saved me," he murmured.
"She did it. She did it! She woke him up!" a young voice said.
Another voice, a woman's voice, answered, sounding surprised and relieved. "Yeah, kid. She did."
He looked back up at the woman leaning over him. "Thank you."
She smiled. "Who are you?"
His mind stayed blank. No name, no memories leapt forward at her question. "I don't know," he realized.
She continued to smile comfortingly. "It's okay," she promised. "You're going to be okay."
And he believed her.
"The ambulance should be here any moment," said a thickly accented male voice. "We need to keep him warm and get him as dry as possible."
A leather jacket appeared out of nowhere and the woman took it. She gently draped it over him. He grabbed her hand, wanting to feel her. She gently lifted his head and shoulders into her lap and cradled him for warmth. From that position, he could see that there were three other people with them. One, a woman with golden curls and a red jacket was hugging a young boy who was grinning from ear to ear, looking almost triumphant. A scruffy looking man was speaking into a walkie-talkie. He alone wasn't wearing a jacket.
The blonde woman seemed to shake herself and quickly shucked her jacket as well. When the boy started to the same, she shook her head. "Your mother will kill me if you catch a cold. Keep that on."
He did it anyway, saying stubbornly, "She's not going to find out," and laid his coat over his legs. He smiled at the boy weakly and was rewarded with a blinding grin.
"Thank you," he whispered again.
The woman who was holding him gently squeezed his shoulder. He shivered slightly. "My name is Mary Margaret," she said. "I'm a teacher. I volunteer at the hospital. That's how I met you. I work in the long term ward."
He began to relax slightly into her embrace. The sound of her voice soothed him and it helped him forget how cold he was. She continued to talk about her students, gesturing to the boy at one point, but he missed his name.
Eventually, the paramedics arrived. The waved her away. He wanted to protest, but knew that they needed room to do their jobs and she continued to hover nearby. His eyes barely left her while the two medics took his blood pressure, his temperature, and a dozen other things. She kept giving him reassuring smiles. He didn't break eye contact until the paramedics lifted him onto the gurney and began hauling him up the ambulance. Mary Margaret and the others from his rescue party followed after, but her eyes were downcast as she watched where she stepped.
"Will any of you be riding with him?" asked one of the paramedics once they had him settled in the ambulance.
He looked at her and hoped that she understood what he was silently asking. Her presence was comforting, even if he didn't know why. The blonde woman elbowed Mary Margaret.
"I-I will," she stammered. The paramedic nodded and offered her a hand to help her into the back of the ambulance. She took it, stepping lightly into the vehicle and seating herself on the bench beside him. He smiled and reached out for her hand. She took it and smiled gently.
"I told you you'd be okay," she murmured.
His smile widened slightly. "I believed you."
Author's Note: So there it is, the first chapter of my first fic for OUaT. I have so many other fics to work on, but this wouldn't freaking leave me alone!
I was surprised by how comparatively few fics there are out there that deal with Prince Charming remembering who he is. This chapter is a bit weird, I know. It's supposed to be kind of cerebral as it's mostly inside PC's very confused head. The rest of the fic will be much more like my other fics. R&R.