Who: Regina & Killian, with Henry, Kenzi and Baby Jones at the end What: Evil Queen and Captain Hook wake up in a mirror realm - with a dragon When: This morning Where: Mirror Realm, then Casa of Villainy Rating/Warnings: Innuendo, language Status: Complete!
Waking up somewhere that was distinctly not her bedroom - or house, for that matter - was not how Regina had expected to start the morning.
If it even was morning, but there was no sunlight to prove that theory in this realm. Shrouded blood-orange skies, an otherworldly chill in the air, barren trees and, most importantly, there were mirrors - dozens of them, all around, all familiar, hanging off rubble and ruin. It was bitterly poetic to be here, knowing that this had once been Sidney’s home (how he obtained that travesty called furniture was a mystery, but she’d been done and over deciphering Storybrooke logic long ago), and that this had been the very prison she and Emma had tried to seal her evil counterpart.
Obviously, they’d failed. But nothing of that sort happened that would bring her here aside from typical OC fuckery.
“Killian,” she hissed, shaking him none too nicely (sorry, darling, there was a crisis going on) from the musty carpet they’d been lying on. “Killian, wake up. We’ve got a very serious problem.” And it was going to kill that infamous morning wood, sadly.
It was a saving grace they’d gone to bed clothed last night, considering the company. Henry was over, Kenzi too, and knowing that their home was occupied quelled that fretting maternal instinct she had over their little one - at least she wasn’t stuck here with them but certainly, her son and his sister will have raised flags knowing they’d disappeared without their six month old daughter.
Killian had indeed gone to bed clothed, drawstring lounge pants that were far too comfortable and a long-sleeve t-shirt that had been washed a few thousand times and yet was miraculously free from baby stains. Not the sexiest thing to wear, but he was quite sure he passed out last night distinctly not worried about being sexy - sometimes that happened when you had a six-month-old, though he fully planned to -
What the fuck was going on?
He was literally being shaken from a delightful dream involving those days of piracy - a glossy ginger ship, weather-beaten skin, an age where sadistic and ruthless were compliments. Killian rather enjoyed those repeats, because they quite surpassed the ones where he died or watched someone else die. If he couldn’t get a carriage sex dream, he’d take the Roger and the crew that called her home.
“What’s the problem, darling?” he asked, yawning, then opened his eyes straight away when he felt the sudden chill down past layers and sinking into bone marrow. “Oh, Christ - “ Killian sat up, cursing the fact that he’d taken his prosthetic hand off for sleep but he always did anyway, so -
Well, at least the hook with its brace was right by where he was lying. Good thing he saw it before rolling over atop the sharp point.
Click, he fitted himself with the weapon-slash-appendage. “How did we end up here...” Of course he knew where they were, though he had never been to this place in his dreams. There were about five-thousand different realms or pockets of the universe, and this one happened to look like Tim Burton’s gothic honeymoon suite. “And which mirror bloody well leads back home?”
Regina groaned.
“I would have preferred waking up to a diaper blowout,” she sighed in utmost queenly aggravation - really, how rude for this place to always cock things up for her before she even had her morning dose of coffee. Barefeet (with perfectly manicured toes, now that she had the time for appointments like those) stood up on the cold slate of the floor, and she helped her pirate captain up as well. At least she wasn’t alone. “There’s a mirror here somewhere that Sidney was working on piecing together - a Looking Glass, a portal out.”
That wasn’t how she and Emma had escaped this forsaken realm, but it had been their original plan.
Their proximity to one, square and plain, caused the royal blue shroud to dissipate and as if they were looking through the window to a bathroom, they could see Kenzi’s groggy face doing something they definitely never cared to see - and that was plucking her nose hairs. “Hey, Henryyyy - can you check on the babe and her parental unit? They’re usually up by now.”
“Oh, come on - unnecessary,” Killian shuddered, though he went up to the mirror and put his fingertips gingerly on the glass, once the electric blue haze had cleared. This wasn’t the portal they were after and he just hoped that he and Regina would have better luck than that ‘reporter’ twat did. “Sharkbait - “
But she couldn’t hear him, could she? That was the torturous part of this glass prison; they were trapped in a dimension of utter shit comprised of nothing but gnarled tree branches, what appeared to be perpetual twilight, and one-way mirrors.
“Kenzi!” It didn’t deter Killian, he banged on the edge of the mirror anyway - to make noise, to get her attention, something. “Hacksaw through the jungle of your nosehairs later, we could use a little assistance now.” Sighing, he turned back to Regina. “How was that portal meant to be made again?”
Oh, why not let him bang on the mirrors. It was essentially fruitless but he needed to let out the aggression somehow, and usually the outlets were two faithful ones - sex or violence - but the former was an unavailable option due to their unfortunate predicament.
Meanwhile, Regina did her best to be observant midst the pirate’s noise - assessing the realm they were trapped in, trying to sense if there was something else in there lurking. A third companion. Something felt off, and she knew well to listen to the gut. It was rarely, if ever, wrong.
“It’s like a puzzle,” she sighed as well, grasping his good hand into hers. “An incomplete one we have to finish and the shards are the pieces, but we never used that method to get out. Evil Queenie made sure the Dragon would keep us occupied. Which -” Her eyes looked a little worried now. “Wouldn’t surprise me if that’s the twist we’re about to encounter soon.”
Their actual method had been a mix of improvisation and luck - hitting the mirror with magical fire from the Dragon’s mouth the same time Henry had shattered the mirror with the Hammer of Hephaestus. And Regina didn’t know if that particular gift had crossed over, considering she hadn’t woken up in their goddamn bed like normal people. Why did they live here again?
It wouldn’t surprise Killian either. Not much did, when it came to the fuckery their place of residence tended to literally shit out, a projectile spray from other realms. “Don’t worry,” he said to Regina, kissing the back of her hand - he was an unforgiving, violent, oftentimes glacial-hearted pirate and he had a sea chest full of murder trophies, ‘gifts’ he’d given himself that were prizes from the hundreds of bodies he killed. But he would go to bat for those he loved - he would do most anything for them. “If it’s a twist, we’ll handle it.”
Only thing was, how in the ever-loving fuck were they supposed to know on ‘the other side’ to break the mirror if they couldn’t be told - but Killian wouldn’t think about that now. Obviously Kenzi and Henry would get suspicious upon not seeing him and Regina at the house but ‘by jove, they must be trapped in a mirror realm’ likely wasn’t the first thing to pop to mind.
Oh, but speaking of that twist - here came the dragon, conveniently transformed. He wasn’t a person but something from a Mardi Gras parade instead. Green, yellow, purple - scaly and hot. Perhaps that was the fire he breathed, a fierce whirlwind of flames that Killian really didn’t want to get caught up in. “That must be the twist,” he said hastily. “Fuck the puzzle. You figure out which mirror it is, I’ll lead him there.”
In the meantime, he’d just let the dragon play with his food for a bit. Killian was nothing if not a tricky distraction.
It really wasn’t the first thing that’d pop to mind for them, that’s what had Regina worried - completing the mirror portal seemed like the only viable option, and it’d work fine if her suspicions hadn’t been confirmed and their was a dragon composed of vomit colors coming their way, and oh, what was that?
Killian playing bait?
“Don’t be -” Stupid was what she wanted to say, heart caught in her throat for a split second before her mind raced for a solution - her magic didn’t work here so they were automatically down several notches in regards to firepower, but if he could deal with krakens and all sorts of unsightly oceanic monsters then he could handle this. Logically speaking.
Of course, logic didn’t always offer comfort when the man she loved was zigzagging through the realm evading being scorched.
There was the Looking Glass, incomplete, but over there was the mirror in her vault. It had been replaced ever since the Shattered Sight debacle, but it would work well enough. It’d bring them back home and in a space that could stand some damage - much rather her lair than their home.
Passing by mirrors, she banged on every one of them in case Henry and Kenzi were nearby on them. Maybe they’d notice a tremble, something off in the house that’d give them a sign something was off, and she finally reached the one best suited to get them out.
“Over here!” she called out. “Hey! You enormous scaly assworm, over here!”
The dragon, of course, not her dear pirate.
For as old as he was (technically hundreds of years?), Killian was one spry and wily motherfucker. It came about as part of a pirate’s life, he supposed, always a gleam of intelligence and cleverness in his eye when there was a crew to lead and treasure to find - he hadn’t had a tonne of formal schooling and yet had a very distinct skillset. Cartography, sailing, tracking, playing bait to a gigantic dragon while Regina investigated the endless sea of mirrors in this shithole. That sort of thing.
“Aren’t you a barrel of laughs?” he chuckled, and crack there went a tree branch after the temperature of the dragon-breath flames scorched it to the point where it fell to the ground, blackened and dead. “Don’t worry, mate, you can’t fuck up this place more than it already is. It looks like a wasteland anyway.”
Zig-zagging was his plan, putting both distance and extra debris between him and the snake-like creature - ‘round and ‘round they went, like a carousel, until Regina thankfully found the right mirror. “Heads up, love,” he warned her, so she wouldn’t be within range of scorching heat - the dragon’s breath hit the mirror after Killian dove behind it to use it as a shield, and while it wasn’t enough to open the portal completely he at least hoped it’d be something those on the other side would notice. Fire was a great attention grabber, wasn’t it?
Oh, Regina knew the drill all too well - she moved right as the draconic flamethrower singed her clothes (it was an old university shirt and sweatpants because, no, nowadays with a child that had incidents at night she did not worry about dressing in sexy silk for bedtime), skidding against the ground. Fire met the mirror’s glass, lighting it up with the fiery colors of hell.
And then they could hear a crack. A sign. They had to time this right.
“Killian, come here -” she called out, stretching her hand out to reach him. The moment it shattered they had to jump out - because if not, they were burning with the rest of this realm.
Now, she didn’t know what happened on the other side, but she heard a very distinct shatter that meant they needed to move. Immediately. Because on the other side was her very adolescent son wielding a weapon like he was Thor holding up Mjolnir, and a wide-eyed sister-in-law with an equally wide-eyed baby strapped to her hip.
Killian’s hand clasped around Regina’s, and then before he knew it they were literally tumbling back through to another realm. He could feel the dragon’s breath (literally) hot on his heels - now he just had to hope that they didn’t take the multicoloured beast with them, but when he stumbled through after the clanging, ringing sound of glass breaking he immediately knew where he was.
It smelled like ash and sulfur and spice, very distinct - this was Regina’s crypt, her lair, and the distant sound of beating telltale hearts also thrummed beneath his skin. In time with his own pulse - which was, admittedly, racing a little.
“It’s - we’re alright,” he spoke, just to confirm - he still had all his body parts, yes? Minus the hand, clearly. Then he’d consider it a victory. “How did you know - “
“We went to see if you were here, after checking your room - this hammer was on the bed, so, I took it with me and then when we heard the sounds at the mirror I just said it needed to be broken so I swung the hammer and mom, where’d you get Thor’s hammer??” Henry asked in some excited run-on sentence. “Can I keep it in my room??”
An exciting adventure - Killian would leave the hammer’s fate up to Regina, however, and he went to hug Kenzi and take Meara to nuzzle at her. “Sorry, Starfish, we were trapped in a mirror realm but we’re back now.” Balls, he hated being separated from his daughter. Especially when rudely transplanted into another shithole universe, while she was in another.
HOLY JESUS BALLS. Kenzi’s reaction to that whole rumble n’ tumble back into this realm was to first and foremost cradle her baby niece’s head against her protectively to shield her from things like, you know, glass? Maybe a little fire with the way things were looking - but it seemed Gigi McTits (always the truest and bluest nickname she’d give to her bro’s lady love) was quick to contain whatever that was, with her witchy juju, glass reassembled.
“Duuuuuuuude,” she breathed, hanging over the precious goods that was the wittle seahorse of the family. “Are you guys -”
“We’re fine,” came her majesty’s retort, her arms around Henry in a show of sincere gratitude - he was always quick thinker, and like his dreamself he’d been looking so much more grown up. Her little boy wasn’t so little anymore. “And thank you, but no, that’s the Hammer of Hephaestus. Wrong pantheon, dear, and maybe, I’ll think about it.”
Kenzi snickered. “I think he’ll try to pick up chicks with it.”
“It’s still awesome. Look at it!” Henry was now holding up the thing like he could channel lightning with it - probably expected to be able to, but ye gods, that was enough excitement for now, in this Captain’s view. “I could say it’s Mjölnir, I bet all the girls at school would believe me.” Until he tried to call upon a mighty thunderstorm - could this hammer even do that?
Killian bounced Meara on his hip a bit, cradling her with his good arm and holding her to him while the baby flailed and babbled at them - mostly a lot of bah and eh noises, her own language that her papa certainly thought was brilliant even if she couldn’t say real words yet. He squinted in Henry’s general direction. “Haven’t you got school anyway, lad?”
“Spring break,” he responded, grinning. “You promised to take me sailing.”
“Oh, aye, that I did. Right, Meara?” She squealed in assent, which made him chuckle. “I need coffee first though.” And in general - just inject him with it, someone, please.
Indeed, coffee. Maybe then she’d be able to process Henry’s prattle more, and then make a sound judgment of whether or not he was responsible enough to lug that hammer around or not - but perhaps she should just express her gratitude by taking him to GameStop or taking him to see whatever new Star Wars movie was currently out. “We can discuss this over breakfast,” Regina sighed with such affectionate exasperation. “Then decide the fate of the hammer, alright?”
“Coffee’s already made, losers, I’m like, ten steps ahead of you,” Kenzi announced, also a fiend for the stuff. “Can you two not get sucked into another realm next time, though?”
Such a heavy, impossible promise to keep. Regina rolled her eyes, and went to give her tiny one a proper greet - those knuckles and tiny fingernails got a shower of kisses, and after Killian had his turn it’d soon be hers to cuddle and hog their smallest family member. “Yes, of course, we’ll take a look at our planner and erase all intentions of realm hopping in the morning.”
Sailing and a potential trip to GameStop - those were grand distractions for Henry, so Killian thought that they boy really didn’t need to be messing with any of the artifacts from Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest. He was growing so quickly, literally shooting up like a weed, but he still seemed young somehow. Perhaps it was the adventure-loving hero in him, that always seemed to be present no matter where he was.
Likely he wouldn’t give in until he had at least one fun thing his other self got to use though. The hammer would end up as a trophy in his room, no doubt.
“Suppose that does cancel our weekend plans, darling,” he sighed too, as if Kenzi’s request was such a hardship, and passed the wee starfish off to her mum so her turn at ‘we’re so relieved we’re back from a mirror prison’ cuddles could commence. “No more realm hopping. At least not in the morning.”
But no, never fear, this realm for all of its metaphysical quirks was their tried and true home. “You said there’s coffee - but are there also flapjacks?” Just wondering.
There she is, her little baby - Regina’s thoughts when she’d woken up were all about this helpless thing, dressed so cozily in her toasty footsie pajamas. At least she hadn’t made the trip to the other side, and she was thankful the house wasn’t empty. Looks like her diaper had been changed, too. It was the little things.
“Mine come out hard like bricks, so nope,” Kenzi shook her head. In retrospect it was a blessing to the family, it really was. “That’s all you, bro.”
Meara was bounced gently in her mother’s arms. “Hmmm, that’s got my vote as well. I’m currently occupied with the baby. The task of breakfast is yours, Guyliner.”
Well, alright, fair enough. Killian’s flapjacks were the best, weren’t they? He’d probably kill for a legitimate Irish breakfast (tonnes of meat, black and white puddings, eggs, more cholesterol, potatoes, everything fried in creamery butter and a large hunk of soda bread for dipping purposes with a good, strong cup of tea on the side) but in this case, flapjacks would do.
“You lot are impossible,” he winked teasingly, but began pulling out the necessary ingredients with full intent to prepare something. “But let’s see. You can handle the bacon, can’t you, lad?” he asked Henry, who was prepared to open the fridge and remove that salty goodness to be crispified in a frying pan.
Kenzi had already taken care of the coffee, so he’d just pour some of this road tar down his throat and get started. It was good to be home, even if they hadn’t been gone very long at all. Still felt like far too much time away though, but perhaps that was the beauty of it when you really did find home.
Coffee was godsent, yes - and thankfully Meara was suckling happily on her pacifier to care for much else while her mother prepared a cup for herself to her liking. Why did most things happen before she got a cup in?
“So are we going to discuss what happened back there?” Kenzi piped up, sitting on a stool while her brother did his kitchen jujitsu. “Like, what the shit was that, did we really almost see a dragon, that kind of thing?? Because your pajamas look toasty, guys, just saying.”
Well, valid point. Regina’s own nightwear were singed around the edges but at least they hadn’t lost anything important. “Stranger things have happened, I think.”
Henry was laying out strips of bacon, while Killian mixed pancake batter - the lad looked curious, and was obviously waiting for an explanation. To which the Captain sighed, but alright, it was probably worth a discussion - the day you became completely and utterly desensitised to the things that happened in this mindfuck of a place was the day you may as well just give up.
“Have we mentioned how Regina used a serum to separate herself into two beings, one...purely evil, and one less likely to light you on fire? No? Well, that happened - “ And Killian just plowed ahead. “So the evil part sent the other half of her own self and Emma to some godawful mirror realm - you can see people looking into mirrors, but it’s rather difficult to get messages out. Anyway, that realm was where we ended up today and since Evil Regina had previously trapped a dragon there before, that’s why he was hanging about as well.”
She might want to add to that, because honestly, Killian hadn’t been there for it. He’d just known what happened to Emma, and how she and Regina always seemed to be sucked up into other realms together like they were in some strange slumber party.
It surely felt like it was some strange slumber party, and as the men of the house prepared sustenance for all those with teeth, Regina went on to warm a bottle up for the bundle in her arms. “And our savior of the day for that unfortunate predicament was also - you.” A finger pointed towards the bacon-wielding Henry. “Saved us from that too there, with the hammer. You made a good decision in a very tricky situation.”
Maybe informing him that the Evil Queen wanted him to darken his heart by crushing the Dragon’s heart with the hammer was a little too heavy for the morning, though.
“Two Gigis,” Kenzi mused. Must be Killy’s wet dream but naaaah, she couldn’t say that around virgin adolescent ears. “Double the McTits. That’s gotta be super weird for you, Bubba.”
“I rather like the Evil Queen’s taste in dresses,” the Captain grinned lecherously. Speaking of tits and all. It really was Killian’s wet dream, Kenzi wasn’t wrong there. But he wouldn’t say that either, simply because it’d ruin Henry’s moment of pride - he always was so envious of what his other self got to do, not to mention the curiousity about it all, so it was good to hear about him saving the day.
“I guess me having that hammer is meant to be,” he sighed, finding a plate to dump all the bacon onto as he slid a spatula beneath the strips. Regina would definitely need to go shopping soon. Having Henry around was like feeding a bottomless pit. “So it’s okay, right? What if you get trapped in another mirror? This time I’ll be prepared and know exactly what to do.”
Killian snorted a laugh. “Alright, flapjacks are done.” He flipped a whole stack onto another plate, ready to bring it to the table. “Come eat.”
Mmhm, yes, well - she knew just how the pirate appreciated her seductively gothic style of royalty. The more tits, the better. But the most she could address it was a fond roll of her eyes, because her son was still trying to haggle the possession of the hammer - how typical of him. “You can have it while you’re here,” she bargained, sitting down and tilting to the bottle to Meara’s hungry little mouth. “And we’ll see how that goes.”
“I’ll step into the role of Uncle Ben,” Kenzi piped up, grabbing extra plates and utensils for the gang because hey, she was a helping. See? A contributing member to this family. “‘With great power comes great responsibility.’”
This was going to be the debate of the morning, wasn’t it? The fate of the hammer - sigh. But she supposed she wouldn’t trade these boisterous mornings (aside from the mirror entrapment, that could kindly fuck off) for anything.