strangetrip | [GP/EP] You're not clear of story out here

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[GP/EP] You're not clear of story out here

Even before she knew for certain that it was the first of a month, Snow’s body had started bracing for it. She was wary and tense, preparing to cope with yet more people in the space of the hotel. It seemed that no sooner had she adjusted to whoever had showed up the last time, there was someone new again.

She didn’t want anything to do with the lot of it. That was what those busy women on the welcome committee were for. She didn’t think the committee was a stupid thing, not at all. Focusing on settling new people in kept the lot of them busy and away from her, and that was where she wanted them. They terrified her.

Snow White had only come into the main building to forage for food. The original plan was of course to turn right back around and escape before the expected rush (small or large) of new people to flood in.

But that was of course not what happened. When a universe was a pocket, it had less to focus on and fewer people to fuck with, and so Snow was entirely certain it was fucking with her when she was the one in the lobby when a new face came through the door.

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"Stuck?" As in trapped? As in prisoners? What had he stumbled into?

Snow nodded, her eyes lowering. "I'm sorry."

It was the tone and the way her eyes dropped more than the actual words she spoke that clicked in his brain.

Sorry.

Trapped.

A low growl started in his chest almost involuntarily and it echoed in his voice.

"Who are you?" She didn't smell like fae. But then this hadn't felt like a trap. His voice didn't raise, but there was still menace there. "Dark? Light? WHO?"

Okay. Snow had had men suddenly turn violent on her before, and the only thing that had kept her alive from that day to this when they were already too close to run and no one was about to save her was being willing to throw down and hit back just as hard. She only snarled back. But the sound was an entirely human one. Just the sound of a human girl who didn't care if she came out pretty on the other side.

Regina hadn't made it one hundred feet from Caroline when she saw Snow, and another fifty gave her a good look at who she was talking to. Her mouth shaped a hopeful smile, because if Yasmeen's lover was here, too, then that meant it had to be her Snow, didn't it?

Before the thoughts had time to finish forming, Dyson got up in Snow's face--and Regina didn't give a damn who he was or why it was happening or even if either of them had ever met her. She lifted a hand and a streak of pure white magic, born of her love for Snow, streaked out and slammed the man in the chest, lifting him off his feet and throwing him at an empty table.

And then Regina rushed forward to her daughter.

He'd hardly processed the girls snarling back at him - and later he was sure to think about what she'd seen that, that was her response - before he was hit with something that felt like getting hit by a mack truck.

Then he was airborne. The impact knocked the air from his lungs and he was momentarily stunned but only momentarily. He was on his feet in an instant, the low growl turning into an audible roar, eye flashing yellow and canines visible as he moved to confront his attacker crowding her space.

"What are you, the welcome wagon? Cause you suck at it lady."

That had come out of nowhere and already tense, Snow was now ready to flee like a wild animal and hide under the first piece of furniture that could conceal her.

And she nearly did, turning sharply to run away, until she saw who was striding toward her.

"Mama...?"

Regina barely heard the man snarling in her face over the sound of her own heart pounding and the soft, so familiar sound of Snow's voice.

God she'd missed her.

She put her hand up and stiff-armed Dyson in the chest without looking at him. "Your quips need work, jester," she snapped, and kept moving toward the girl who looked too terrified even to hope.

"Snow..."

The girl's feet were running before her brain had fully caught up, and she all but threw herself into Regina's arms. At first she was quiet like the snow she was named for. And then she whispered, "Mama?" She buried her face in Regina's neck, breathing in the scent of her mother. "Mama..."

Edited 2017-03-10 06:52 (UTC)

No force in the universe, and certainly no snarling beast of a man could've kept Regina from her daughter in that moment. The instant Snow reached for her, Regina was there, catching her up and holding on tightly. She stroked a hand over Snow's hair, murmuring her name and kissing her.

Hundreds of times since Snow disappeared, she'd thought of things she wished she'd said, wished she'd told her, but the force of emotion at being who her daughter wanted stripped them from her. Only two words mattered now: "Snow, love."

Snow said nothing for a long time, and even as tears squeezed from her eyes she made no sound of any kind, only tucked as close to Regina as was humanly possible.

After what seemed even to her like an eternity she said, "I'm sorry."

Although embraces had become common in the months after defeating Mrs. H., Snow hadn't tended to cling, nor had Regina, so Snow's need to hold on might have caused consternation, except that Regina had even less interest in letting go. She held Snow, stroked her hair, kissed her face and hair, until Snow spoke.

And then Regina immediately pushed her out--not far, just far enough to see her eyes. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry that it took me so long to come to you. I tried."

Snow's black eyes were huge in her face, and she lowered them in shame. "I said I'd help you," she whispered. "And I left."

"Oh, Snow." Regina let out a soft, incredulous sigh, and if Snow weren't so ashamed, she might have laughed. Another Snow, another promise "broken," another love gone (though admittedly, probably not because of it)....but she'd learned. "Did you choose to leave?" The tilt of her head, the warmth of her voice, the gentleness of her fingers on Snow's shoulders all said she knew the answer.

Even with those reassurances, Snow took a moment to respond as though she didn't entirely understand. Wordlessly, she shook her head slowly.

"You didn't leave. You were taken." Regina brushed her fingers against Snow's cheek, and the moment called to mind one of their very first, when Regina had recognized the signs of abuse in the strange, feral Snow White who'd found her. "It's not your fault."

Snow closed her eyes and drew a deep breath before she nodded. "Okay," she said in a tiny voice.

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He refrained, barely, from rolling his eyes as the woman pushed past him toward the girl.

"Females," he muttered under his breath as he stalked away, and directly to the bar. He didn't care if Kitty, whoever that was, showed up he was pouring himself a drink.

As it happened, Kitty was the dancer-slender, pretty Jewish female who'd walked out of the kitchen where she'd placed an order for room service for Miss Fisher in time to see a woman she didn't recognize throwing a man she also didn't recognize across the room with a vaguely Havok reminiscent force blast, and then the man getting up and flying across the room at her at a pace closer to Rahne than Northstar. Kitty began to phase, prepared to intervene, but it ended as quickly as it began--the woman embracing Snow White (weird) and the man striding off toward the bar.

She grabbed a rag in classic bartender fashion, put on a pleasant expression that wasn't quite a smile, and said, "Hi. I'm Kitty. Sorry about that. That's not the way new people usually get greeted."

"Guess I'm just lucky that way," his voice was still half growl and his eyes flashing but as annoyed as he was he wasn't biting her head off. "Whisky. The older the better."

He should probably introduce himself, but at the moment it wasn't on his mind.

"Sure."

She was starting her third month of this. Taking newbie-attitude personally was a good way to trigger her anger issues and her PTSD, so she just didn't. Instead, she grabbed a bottle of Glendronach 18, because it was the best they had at the moment. She poured him a glass, generous, and pushed it across the counter at him.

"It's not the oldest we've got, but it's the best. Don't take that personally, what happened back there. I don't know the woman, but Snow's half-feral. If you got between her and someone she cares about, you're lucky she didn't shoot you."

He took a long drink from the glass she offered, and glanced back at the other women. The growl was almost inaudible when he spoke, "Your all so calm for people who are trapped. What is this? What are all of you?" Because some of them smelled human and others smelled, mostly human, and there was something else in there too.

But not fae, none of it smelled like fae.

Fury could be contagious, Kitty knew, and that was dangerous for her. As it was, his anger grated against her calm. She took a deep breath and shrugged to break the tension in her shoulders. "I've been here two months. At some point, you have to come off red alert." She tipped her head to the stack of notepads toward the end of the bar. "I'm still working on ways to get out of here, but my brain works better when I'm not in a rage."

She lifted her chin then, almost defiant. "We're not whats, we're whos."

He pushed the empty glass across the bar in the universal gesture for more.

He wasn't happy, but he wasn't quite so angry as he had been.

"So, who are you?"

Since he'd backed off, she mellowed and obligingly poured three fingers of the Glendronach for him and slid it back across the bar. "Katherine Ann Pryde, called Kitty. For all the good that does you, I can name almost everyone else in the Inn, with the exception of you and the other new lady, and the five staff members who don't give their names no matter how you ask."

She shrugged, smiled a little, and asked, "You want to keep shooting in the dark or want me to tell you what we know? Either way, you're going to investigate it for yourself. Everyone does."