Start of Time: 3/?
In this chapter, Emma (going by Wendy) meets another character in a surprising way. I really hope Emma’s amnesia and her going by “Wendy” isn’t too confusing. I keep writing “Emma” by accident, then having to change it!
Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is? Written for @teamhook on her birthday.
Rating: T
Words: About 2,000 in this chapter
Also on Ao3
Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @thislassishooked @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @shireness-says @spartanguard @scientificapricot @sherlockianwhovian @superchocovian @ekr032-blog-blog @kday426 @tiganasummertree @jennjenn615 @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @optomisticgirl @distant-rose @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @nikkiemms @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @branlovestowrite @hollyethecurious @ultraluckycatnd @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89
Come tomorrow I’ll be in the ocean, I’ll be rising with the morning tide
Wendy awoke the next morning when the sun was just beginning to tinge the edges of the darkness. She felt warm and comfortable in her bed, her bumps and bruises slight aches now instead of sharp pains. Even her headache had finally subsided. She lay there in Alice’s narrow twin bed, however, staring at the ceiling. It was painted a dark blue, and glow in the dark stickers of planets and stars dotted its surface. She squinted as she studied them. She didn’t know her constellations very well, but even she could identify the big dipper. Whoever had decorated the ceiling, it wasn’t Alice. Her father perhaps?
She ran her fingers through her still damp hair. She probably shouldn’t have gone to bed with it still wet, but the shower had sapped her energy, and she had been unable to resist the call of the soft pillow and mattress. It had felt absolutely luxurious to slip beneath the sheets clean and fresh. Wendy continued to stare at the simulated night sky above her, trying to remember something other than this house and endless snow, but it was useless.
Wendy knew she wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep, so she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She gathered the fleece lined leggings and the purple sweater one of the kids had dropped off in her room the night before. At least, she assumed it was one of the kids, judging how they had been tossed haphazardly on the bed while she was in the shower. Wendy slipped into them, the sharp scent of cedar filling her nostrils. These had obviously been in storage for a while. Had they belonged to the children’s mother? Where was she?