CHAPTER THREE
man with many names
　

OVER A WEEK AGO, MR. GOLD HAD CALLED IN REGARDS TO THE SIGN HANGING ABOVE the front door of his antique shop. It had been fractured in the last storm and the man required a new one. It had been a week-long project, but the handyman duo of Alan Milne and Marco Gilbert had finally finished their work. Now, it was time to deliver the sign to the buyer.

The sky was clear and birds were chirping as Alan drove down the road, Marco sitting in the passenger seat beside him. Alan had his elbow propped up on the open window as music played over the speakers. When they finally arrived at Gold's antique shop, he cut the engine and turned to face his co-worker.

"I'll go in and handle Gold," Alan offered, getting out of the truck. "You go ahead and start setting up."

"Sounds good to me," Marco replied.

Alan walked around the bed of his truck and opened up the front door of the antique shop, walking inside. The moment Mr. Gold heard the sound of the front door opening up, he emerged from the back room and offered the handyman a polite smile.

"Ah, Mr. Milne, right on time," he greeted.

"Mr. Gold," Alan nodded in greeting. "Your sign is finished. Would you like to have a look at it before we get started?"

"That won't be necessary," Mr. Gold replied. "I trust it looks the same as before. Feel free to get started. You and Mr. Gilbert will receive your payment when the job is done."

Alan gave the man a silent nod before turning around and walking out the door. He walked over to the truck and helped Marco set the ladders up against the building on either side of the sign. They then grabbed their toolboxes and got to work.

They started by removing the old sign. Once it had been taken down, they carried it to the back of the truck so they could dispose of it at the end of the day. Then, they unwrapped the new sign and started carrying it toward the ladders so they could hang it. However, as they did, someone walked up to them.

"Mr. Milne," Regina Mills greeted.

Alan and Marco both glanced at the woman, before looking at each other. They carefully placed the sign down on the ground near the front of the shop so that Alan could speak with the mayor for a moment.

"What can I do for you, Madame Mayor?" Alan asked.

"I'm not sure if you've read the Daily Mirror lately, but Miss Swan has destroyed our town sign," Regina began.

"I'm aware," Alan nodded.

"Well, I was hoping you would be interested in making the town a new sign," Regina said. "We need a new one after what happened."

Alan's eyes widened and he briefly over his shoulder to where his co-worker was standing, noticing how surprised Marco looked as well. He then turned back around to face Regina and raised a brow, "You want us to make the new town sign?"

"You're the best in town, are you not?"

"Uh, well, I suppose so."

"Well, I want only the best for my town," Regina said, glancing around with a faint smile. "So, will you do it? Or did I just waste my time coming to you both for this incredible opportunity?"

Alan glanced at Marco, who nodded eagerly. When it came to their business, Marco was always more excited for the woodworking services while Alan did more of the handyman work. Obviously, the man wanted the pleasure of making the new town sign, and Alan wasn't going to deprive him of that. He turned back around to face the mayor and gave her a small smile. "We'll do it."

"Good," Regina nodded, seeming satisfied with their answer. "Draw up some designs for the council to look over at the next meeting and call my office to set up an appointment with my assistant. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some other business to take care of. Good day, Mr. Milne, Mr. Gilbert."

Once the mayor was gone, Alan turned to face the grinning Marco. "Well, that was unexpected."

"It was," Marco agreed while nodding. "But I am glad nonetheless. When I saw what happened to the town sign in the newspaper, I was hoping we'd be hired to fix it."

"When do you want to start drawing up the designs?" Alan asked as they walked over to Gold's new sign, picking it up and moving toward the ladders.

"Why don't we begin tomorrow during lunch?" Marco suggested. "We do not have many appointments scheduled, so we should be able to fit it in then."

"Sounds like a plan," Alan replied, grunting as they each lifted one end of the new sign and started climbing the ladders. It was heavier than the old one, but they managed.

They spent the next twenty minutes securing Gold's new sign in place, making sure that it was level with the structure before climbing down from their ladders and going inside to receive their payment. Gold was satisfied with their work and even gave them a small tip for their punctuality and service. They thanked him with smiles and left.

　
MAKING HONEY WAS something that brought Christopher Robin much joy. He could spend hours upon hours sitting at the table, harvesting honey and filling dozens upon dozens of jars. It was his favourite thing to do, and Christopher hoped that he would never have to stop doing what he loved.

There was a festival going on in one of the neighboring villages, and that was always the best time to sell some jars of honey and make some money. As Christopher got to work getting his cart ready with all the supplies he would need for the trip, Rabbit, Piglet and Owl started putting all the jars of honey inside wooden crates so they were easier to transport and wouldn't break along the way.

Christopher finished strapping his horse, Chestnut, to the cart and then double checked that he had everything that he would need for the trip. Once he was sure he wasn't missing anything, Christopher went back inside his hut to see if Rabbit, Piglet and Owl were done with the jars of honey yet.

He found them sitting on the floor with what looked to be the last of the wooden crates. They were loading the jars of honey inside, but looked up as he entered. "We're just about done," Owl informed. "Only a few more jars to go."

"Thanks for the help," Christopher smiled, bending down and looking at all the crates they had already finished. He counted the jars of honey inside each one, frowning when one of them only had eleven jars instead of the usual twelve. "Uh, you're missing a jar?"

"What?" Rabbit quickly hopped over, eyes widening when he saw the empty space inside the wooden crate. He then rounded on his smaller friend with a glare, "Piglet, you said you counted!"

"O-Oh, I-I-I did," Piglet stuttered.

"Now, Rabbit⎯⎯"

Owl was cut off as Rabbit continued shouting at Piglet, "You obviously didn't if we're missing a jar!"

Christopher shook his head and climbed to his feet, a knowing expression plastered across his face. "There's no point in arguing," he said. "It isn't Piglet's fault. I know why we are missing a jar."

"Why?" Rabbit asked.

And then it dawned on them.

"Where is Pooh?" Christopher asked, knowing that he was the culprit. The bear had sticky fingers and would often sneak a jar when nobody was looking.

They split up and began searching the hut, eventually finding the culprit hiding out in one of the cabinets in the kitchen. Pooh's entire paw was covered in honey and he had it sweared all over his face and the front of his red shirt, which Christopher had recently washed clean for him.

"Oh, Pooh," Christopher sighed.

Pooh wiggled his way out of the cabinet and looked up at his human friend with apologetic eyes. "Oh, dear . . ."

"Why would you take the honey from the crates, Pooh?" Christopher asked as he got down on his knees to be at the same level as the bear. "You know that I keep a special batch of honey set aside just for you. I always do. But these jars are meant for me to sell at the markets."

"I'm sorry, Christopher Robin," Pooh said sincerely, his eyes falling to the ground.

Christopher let out a sigh, knowing that he couldn't stay mad at Pooh. He knew the bear couldn't control his cravings around honey and that he had an obsession. So, he bent down, wrapping his arms around the bear and giving him a hug. "It's okay, Pooh. I forgive you. But let's try not to do it again, okay?"

Pooh nodded as he stepped away. "You are a good friend, Christopher Robin. A very good friend, indeed."

"So are you, Pooh," Christopher smiled. He then looked around at the others. "All of you are very good friends to me. I wouldn't even know what to do without any of you."

The others smiled up at Christopher, a fond look in their eyes. Then they got back to work, putting the last of the jars inside the last wooden crate and giving the human a thumbs up when the job was done.

Christopher carried the crates out to the cart, and when he got the last of them loaded, he turned back to his very best friends with a small smile. "I'll be back by tonight. Try not to make a mess of things while I'm gone."

They said their goodbyes and then Christopher was off. He climbed into the cart, grabbed the reins, and Chestnut began walking down the road. About four hours later, he arrived at the kingdom of King George and his son, Prince James, where the festivities were already in full swing.

Christopher stopped his cart in an unoccupied area of the road next to a woman selling some fabric for clothing and across from a man selling some pies. He then got to work setting up the wooden table he had loaded up in the cart before taking out the crates of honey and getting his area set up so he could start selling some jars.

He made sure to hang up the banner that Pooh and Tigger had helped him paint a while back, tying the strings to the legs of the table so that people would know what he was selling. Christopher then stood off to the side of his table and began announcing to everyone that walked by that he had freshly harvested honey from the Hundred Acre Wood for sale.

Christopher had sold a lot of jars by the time a woman walked by, pushing a car that was filled with sacks of sheep wool. She immediately stopped after reading his sign and approached his table with interest. He offered the woman a smile and bowed his head slightly in greeting. "Afternoon, ma'am. Might I interest you in some honey? It's fresh all the way from the Hundred Acre Wood."

"The Hundred Acre Wood, you say?" The woman said as she picked up a jar. "Why, I've heard they have the most delicious honey."

"The rumors are quite true, I can assure you," Christopher smiled as he reached for the sampling jar and offered the woman a small slice of bread so that she could taste it for herself. "This here is the finest honey you will ever find across all the lands."

The woman took the bread and took a bite, a smile spreading across her face. "Oh, my goodness! This is delicious! I must have a jar for me and my son." She reached for her coin purse. "How much?"

Christopher glanced at her cart of wool before meeting her gaze. "I'll tell you what, if you give me one of those sacks of sheep wool you're selling, I'll give you two jars of honey. We'll call it an even trade."

"You've got yourself a deal," the woman smiled. She turned to face her cart, picking up a sack of wool and placing it on his table. She then accepted the two jars of honey Christopher was holding out for her to take with a smile. "Thank you kindly, sir."

"Christopher," he corrected. "Christopher Robin. And should you ever need more honey, you can always find me at the Hundred Acre Wood."

"Ruth," she introduced herself. "And if you ever need more wool, you can find both me and my son on a farm just east of here."

"I will be sure to keep that in mind," Christopher smiled. "It was nice meeting you, Miss Ruth. I hope that both you and your son enjoy the honey and the rest of the festivities."

"You as well, Mr. Robin," Ruth said, flashing him another polite smile before leaving with her cart to continue selling more wool.

　
WHEN THEY FINISHED up the last of their appointments for the day, Alan decided to go for a walk in the woods. It was something that he did often, for he rather enjoyed walks through nature. He found them peaceful. But as he walked through the woods today, he came across something quite unusual.

There was a man wearing a hospital gown walking along the hiking trail. He was favoring one arm and walking hurriedly with a slight limp. His head was whipping back and forth, a confused expression on his face. He was obviously confused and injured and had come from the hospital.

"Hey," Alan called out, capturing the man's attention. The man whipped around instantly, the scared look in his eyes causing Alan to raise his hands to show he meant no harm. "No, no, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. I saw you walking and figured you could use some help. Are you alright?"

"I'm . . ." The man's brow creased in concentration and his voice was hoarse, as if this was the first time that he was speaking in a long time. "I'm looking for a bridge. Do you know where I can find it?"

"A bridge?" Alan asked, and the man nodded, a desperate look in his eyes. He wanted to help the man find what he was looking for, as it was obviously very important to him. But at the same time, Alan knew that the man shouldn't be out in the woods in his condition. "Listen, uh, you don't really look like you're in any kind of condition to be out here by yourself. Judging by your clothing and that head wound of yours, I'm going to assume that you come from the hospital and have a case of amnesia. Why don't we take you back there? And when the doctors say you're in good health, I'll help you find whatever bridge you want, okay? What do you say, huh?"

The man seemed to consider the idea for a moment before shaking his head. "No, no, no," he muttered, turning around and walking away. "I need to find the bridge. If I find the bridge, I will find her."

Alan's brow furrowed and he quickly jogged after the man. "Her? There's someone else out here?"

The man was silent, never giving Alan a proper answer to the questions he had asked, which irritated him. He was only trying to help and this man was making it extremely different to do that as he continued to ignore Alan and search for a bridge.

If Alan had to guess, he would say the man was looking for the old Toll Bridge. It was the closest one to the hospital, after all. But then again, this man was clearly suffering from a head wound and was just confused, so maybe he wasn't really looking for a bridge at all. Maybe that was just the head wound talking.

Another fifteen minutes went by, filled with nothing but absolute silence. Finally, Alan sighed, knowing that he couldn't let this man continue going on like this when he was obviously hurt and suffering from amnesia. Alan knew he had to get the man back to the hospital before he would suffer anymore injuries. Lucky for him, the man came to a stop when they arrived at a small downslope, where, at the bottom, rested a stream that Alan knew flowed directly into the river underneath the old Toll Bridge.

The man followed the stream with his eyes before turning to face Alan with a hopeful expression. "Does this stream lead to a river? The river under the bridge?"

Wordlessly, Alan nodded, and the man grinned breathlessly. "I'll find her," the man whispered as he kept walking, still as desperate as ever to find whoever this girl was at the bridge. But he didn't get to take another step before Alan had reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

"You can't keep going on like this," Alan insisted, growing impatient. "You're hurt. Probably in more places than I can see just by looking at you right now. You need help. Do you even know your name?" When the man remained silent, lips pressed together and brows scrunched in concentration as if he was searching for a name deep within his memory, Alan sighed. "You see," he groaned. "You don't even know your own name. Just come with me. I can get you help."

"I don't need your help, I just need to find this bridge," the man stubbornly insisted. He tried to walk away but Alan kept a firm hand on his arm. "Let me go! Let me go! I have to find the bridge! I have to find her!" The man began to flail his arms all around in an attempt to get away from Alan, but the handyman stood his ground.

"Hey, stop! I'm just trying to help you!" Alan tried to reason with him, but nothing he said seemed to work. This man was determined to find this bridge.

For a moment, as they continued to struggle against one another, Alan honestly considered just letting him go. But knew that he would feel terrible if he saw in the newspaper tomorrow morning that this man had died because he didn't help him get back to the hospital safely. So, he kept trying to reason with the stubborn individual.

They struggled against each other for several minutes, and just when Alan thought he finally had him under control, the man reeled his head back and connected it with Alan's nose. Tears instantly burned Alan's eyes and he grunted, releasing his grip on the man and stumbling backward, only to lose his balance completely and fall down the slope.

Alan rolled the rest of the way down, and when he landed at the bottom in the water, his face looking up at the setting sky, he let out a pained groan. He could taste blood in his mouth and he lifted his head to spit it out, but a dizzy spell forced him back down, where he let out another groan as his head began pounding viciously.

He could faintly hear the man at the top of the slope tell him breathlessly that he was sorry it had come to this before Alan succumbed to the pain in his head and the black dots that were dancing in his vision. His head rolled to the side, lips touching the water as his eyelids fluttered shut.

　
THE SUN WAS SHINING through the trees and the birds were chirping above his head as Christopher Robin pushed a cart through the woods in the Hundred Acre Wood with his horse Chesnut keeping him company. It was a nice day, so he decided to go out and collect some more for the fireplace.

As Christopher bent down to pick up some more pieces of firewood, he heard the sound of someone riding through the woods and immediately straightened up. He whipped around and saw a long figure riding horseback through the woods.

When the man got closer, Christopher noticed that he had dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He had some light scruff across his face as well, and he was wearing expensive-looking fabrics with a long, red cloak lined with fur. He pulled on the reins, stopping near Christopher's cart.

"Good sir," he greeted, slightly out of breath from having obviously traveled such a long way. "I'm looking for a woman that goes by the name Snow White. I've heard she's been seen around these parts. Do you know where I can find her?"

Christopher's brow furrowed. He didn't personally know Snow White, but he did know of her. He saw her name and face scattered across wanted posters everywhere he went. She was a fugitive wanted by the Evil Queen, but that's about all he knew about the woman.

His best friend, Red, however, knew the woman quite well. Red had befriended Snow White not long ago when she caught the fugitive hiding out on her and Granny's land. She had offered the woman shelter that day and they've been friends ever since. So, if anyone knew where to find Snow White, it would definitely be his best friend.

But he wasn't going to give up the information so easily.

"Can't say I have," Christopher replied. "But . . . I might know of someone that does."

The man perked up. "You do? Who?"

"How do I know you won't kill her the moment you find her?" Christopher asked cautiously. He wasn't sure if Snow White had really committed the crimes she was accused of or not, but if she happened to be innocent, he really didn't want to be responsible for an innocent woman dying.

"I would never hurt Snow White," the man said, his voice sincere. "I'm looking for her because she is the woman that I am in love with. I broke off my engagement with King Midas' daughter to be with her and now she is gone. I cannot find her anywhere."

Christopher eyed him suspiciously, trying to see if the man was telling him the truth or not. He didn't know the stranger's mannerisms very well so it was hard to tell, but the sincerity in his voice and desperation yet soft look in his blue eyes was all the evidence that Christopher needed to know the man was telling him the truth.

"Please," the man pleaded. "If you know where to find Snow White, please tell me. I only want to be with her. She is the woman that I want to marry."

Christopher nodded, releasing a small sigh and hoping that he wouldn't regret this. "My friend, Red," he began. "She might know where to find the person you're looking for. They met a while ago, when Red gave her shelter. If anyone knows where to find Snow White then it would be her."

"Where can I find your friend?" He asked desperately, grabbing hold of the reins.

"Follow me. I'll show you the way."

　
ALAN COULD FEEL SOMEONE holding his face in the palms of their hands. And the more he focused on the unknown touch, the more aware he became of his surroundings that after a while, he was able to hear a masculine voice calling out his name as well. He opened his eyes and found a blurry figure kneeling down beside him on the ground.

"Alan?" The voice called out. "Hey, Alan, can you hear me?"

The ringing in his head slowly went away and his vision cleared. It was then Alan recognized the person as Sheriff Graham. The sheriff let go of his face and let out a sigh of relief when he realized that Alan had finally regained consciousness and was fully aware of his surroundings now.

"Ugh," Alan groaned as he tried to push himself up from the ground.

"Woah, easy, easy," Graham advised while helping the man sit up. He could see the blood pooling from Alan's temple and was concerned he might have a concussion. "What the hell happened to you?"

Alan clutched his head, wincing at the pain that resided there. "I was walking the trails and then I saw this guy. He was, uh, he was wearing a hospital gown and mumbling all sorts of weird things. I tried to help him, but he was one determined bastard. He headbutted me and then I lost my balance and fell down the slope."

"Hospital gown?"

It was then Alan realized that Sheriff Graham wasn't alone.

Looking over the sheriff's shoulder, Alan noticed that Mary Margaret Blanchard, Henry Mills, and Emma Swan were with him. His eyes lingered on the blonde for a moment longer as he realized that she was the one who spoke before.

He nodded while staring at those mesmerizing hazel eyes. "Yeah, why?"

"We are looking for him," Graham explained. "He's a coma patient down at the hospital. After waking up earlier today, he just walked straight out the door and into the woods. We've been searching for about two hours before we found you."

"Do you have any idea which direction he could have went?" Mary Margaret asked.

Alan nodded. "Yeah, uh, he was talking about some bridge. He said that he had to meet someone there. A woman, I think."

"What woman?" Graham asked.

"He didn't say any name," Alan replied. "None that I can recall, anyway. But he was pretty determined to find her there."

"See? I told you!" Henry suddenly exclaimed as he stepped forward, a grin plastered across his face as he looked at his teacher. "He's going to the bridge because he's looking for you, Mary Margaret."

"Henry . . ."

"You're the one who woke him up. You're the last one he saw. He wants to find you!"

"Henry, it's not about me." Mary Margaret insisted. "I just . . . I think he's lost and confused. He's been in a coma a long time."

"But he loves you!" Henry said. "You need to stop chasing him, and let him find you."

"Kid," Emma sighed in exasperation. "You really need to go home. Where's your mom? She's going to kill me and then you . . . and then me again."

"She dropped me at the house," Henry replied. "Then she went right out."

"Well, we need to get you back immediately."

Henry stubbornly crossed arms. "No!"

"Enough!" Graham shouted.

Alan flinched at the volume of his voice, the pounding in his head getting even worse at the sound. He reached up, massaging his temples, hoping that would ease his pain.

It didn't.

"Arguing won't help," Graham went on. "We can't just go wandering off into the woods by ourselves. Not in the dark. We'll only lose more people and I only have time to search for one person right now. The coma patient. So whether you like it or not, Miss Swan, Henry is staying with us."

Emma reluctantly nodded.

"We stick together, is that understood?" Graham eyed each of them, speaking with the authority that you would only hear coming from a sheriff. They all nodded in response, causing Graham to nod." Good," he breathed. "Now help me with Alan."

Emma gave him a nod and stepped forward to help. Both she and Sheriff Graham got on either side of Alan and reached down, hooking their arms underneath his. On the count of three, they helped him to his feet and Alan stumbled slightly from the wave of nausea that hit him like a truck.

Alan fell over into Emma, who wrapped her arms around his waist to keep him on his feet. Her touch sent a warmth that he's never felt before throughout his body, causing his cheeks to flush. But thankfully it was dark and no one could see his red face.

"Woah, take it easy," Emma told him, her warm breath fanning his skin, making his heart race. He turned his head, looking down at her. Blue met hazel, and for just a moment, everything around them faded away and it was just the two of them standing in the middle of the woods.

When Alan blinked his eyes, it suddenly wasn't Emma Swan holding him up anymore. It was her. His wife. His beautiful Isabelle Milne. She was looking at him with those doe-like brown eyes and soft smile that he had fallen in love with, and his heart tightened at the sight of her.

"Are you okay?"

His brow furrowed. It was Isabelle's lips moving but it wasn't her voice. Alan blinked again and then Isabelle was gone, replaced by Emma Swan, who was looking at him with concern. His eyes widened and he quickly stumbled away from the blonde.

"Alan!" Emma gasped as she lurched forward to help him again, but he moved away and leaned up against a tree, causing her to frown in confusion. What the hell was that all about?

"I'm fine," Alan insisted.

"Alright, let's get going," Graham said. "We don't know how much longer John Doe can survive out here on his own. Henry, I want you to stay with Mary Margaret. Do not leave her side. I meant it." He pointed a stern finger at the boy, who nodded in response and reached out to take Mary Margaret's hand as the teacher turned on her flashlight.

Graham then turned to face the blonde. "Emma, stay with Alan. We don't know the full extent of his injuries yet and we can't have him wandering off. Make sure he stays with the group. And if his injuries start to slow him down, let me know immediately."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Emma promised.

Graham nodded and turned on his flashlight, leading the way upstream toward the old Toll Bridge. "Let's go find our John Doe."

　
CHRISTOPHER ROBIN HAD gotten the full story along the way to Red and Granny's farmhouse. He learned that Prince James wasn't really a prince at all and that both he and his mother Ruth ⎯⎯ who he vaguely remembered from a festival that took place last spring, having traded her some jars of honey for some sheep wool ⎯⎯ were sheep farmers on the outskirts of King George's kingdom.

Apparently, Ruth had sold his identical twin brother to the king and queen because they weren't able to have children of their own. But just two and a half weeks ago, the real Prince James died, prompting King George to hire the sheep farmer to take on the role of his late son so that his kingdom wouldn't fall apart.

You see, King George's kingdom was rather poor and he had arranged a marriage between his son and King Midas' daughter so that the princesses' dowry could restore their poor kingdom to its former glory. But when his son died, he knew that they would never receive the gold they were promised, and so he needed another son.

Not long after he agreed to take on the role of Prince James, the former sheep farmer met and fell in love with Snow White in the most unlikely of ways. Apparently, she had robbed their carriage, stealing the ring that belonged to his mother. He tracked her down, got it back, and the rest was history.

"Well," Christopher said when James had finished explaining everything to him. "That, uh, that's some love story."

"That's why I have to find her."

Christopher looked ahead at the field where, just beyond the treeline, was a hidden farmhouse in the woods. He spotted a red cloak breaking out of the treeline and smiled, jumping down from Chestnut and taking the reins to walk the rest of the way.

Red ran over, stopping just in front of them, and Christopher quickly introduced his best friend to the former sheep farmer, who dismounted his horse. "Red, this is James. Or, well, David. Uh, which do you prefer now?"

"James is fine."

Christopher nodded. "James, this is Red, the one I was telling you about." He looked at his best friend. "He's looking for Snow White. Do you know where she is?"

Red shook her head, a frown tugging at her lips as she looked at James. "She's gone. She never came back after she went to find you."

Christopher turned to look at James, watching as the man's expression fell at the woman's words.

"Then I'll find her," James said confidently, turning and mounting his horse once more. "I will always find her. And I will convince her that we belong together." Red smiled at his words. "I will always fight for her, no matter what comes between us."

"It won't be much of a fight."

James looked at her in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Snow wants to be with you more than anything."

"Don't mock me," James frowned. "Snow told me that we can't be together because she doesn't love me."

"She left here to break up the wedding because she's in love with you," Red explained. "Unless something changed her mind along the way."

"Not something," James sighed. "Someone."

Christopher and Red watched as his eyes looked past them and into the empty field of grass and flowers. They turned around and followed his gaze, watching as several soldiers on horseback made their way toward them in a hurry.

"James?" Red's eyes widened in alarm as Christopher instinctively stepped toward her. "Who are they?"

"King George," James sighed. "They must have been tracking me."

"Wonderful," Christopher mumbled.

"Bring me his head!" King George shouted as he and his men rode towards them with their swords drawn and war cries bursting from their mouths.

Christopher quickly mounted his horse and then leaned down, extending a hand toward his best friend. "Red, come on!"

Red didn't hesitate to reach out and grab his hand, allowing Christopher to pull her up onto Chestnut's back. She held onto his waist as he whipped the reins, following James into the woods as they tried to escape King George and his small army of soldiers.

　
THEY HAD DISCOVERED a trail of bloodied footsteps along the way and decided to follow them, knowing they must've belonged to John Doe. Graham continued to lead the group through the woods, Mary Margaret and Henry hot on his heels. Alan and Emma trailed behind by a few feet, an awkward silence having fallen over the pair ever since what happened between them earlier.

Alan had chosen to ignore her, but he found that it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so the longer they walked through the woods together ⎯⎯ especially when he could feel her watching him. He wanted so badly to meet those hazel eyes, to feel that warmth flood through his body again, but then memories of Isabelle would flash before his eyes and he would feel guilty.

A breath of relief fell from his lips as they finally broke through the tree line and looked out at the river and the old Toll Bridge. Alan separated from Emma as they all split up and began searching for any signs of John Doe, shining their flashlights across the water, bridge and treeline.

"Where is he? Can you see him?" Mary Margaret asked in a panic.

"The trail dies at the water line," Graham announced as his flashlight stopped near the water's edge, where the trail of bloodied footprints left by John Doe came to an end. "He's got to be around here somewhere."

Alan looked out at the water's current and frowned, fearing the worst. "Let's hope he didn't⎯⎯"

He was cut off as Mary Margaret suddenly began to shout. They turned to face the school teacher, watching as she ran towards the unconscious John Doe. He was lying on his side on the ground maybe twenty yards from the water, completely soaked.

Graham immediately pulled out his radio to call this in. "I need two ambulances at the old Toll Bridge as soon as possible!"

A voice immediately responded, but Alan could barely hear what they said due to the static coming through the radio.

Emma, Graham and Mary Margaret were the ones to drag John Doe onto the shore and roll the unconscious man onto his back while Alan remained close, his hands on Henry's shoulders as he held the ten-year-old back, not wanting him to see what was going on.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Mary Margaret cried as she grasped John Doe's face in her hands and looked down at him with horror. "No, no, no! I found you!"

"It's going to be okay," Emma reassured.

"Help's coming," Graham added.

"Is he okay?" Henry asked, his voice scared and helpless. "Is he going to be okay?"

Alan turned the scared boy around in his arms and buried the kid's face in his chest, hugging him tightly. No child should have to see this. "It's alright, Henry, just don't look. Don't look. Help is coming."

Emma looked up from John Doe when she noticed how scared Henry was and she got up from the ground, rushing over as her son latched himself around Alan's waist. She met Alan's gaze and he could see that she wanted nothing more than to comfort her scared son. He nodded in understanding and stepped aside, allowing Henry to run into his birth mother's awaiting arms.

The blonde immediately wrapped her arms around her son and leaned down to kiss the top of his head while whispering soothing words. Emma held him close and ran her fingers through his brunette hair, repeatedly telling him not to look back. And for once, Henry Mills actually listened.

Mary Margaret leaned down, her ear hovering over John Doe's face as she waited to feel or hear his breathing. "No!" She cried out of frustration, holding his face. "Come back to us. Come back to me."

Everyone frowned as they watched tears spill down Mary Margaret's cheeks.

A moment passed before Mary Margaret began performing CPR on John Doe, desperately pushing her hands against his chest and blowing air into his lungs. She continued this process for about a minute, pleading with him to wake up as sobs fell from her mouth, before kissing John Doe.

The moments that followed were eerily silent as they watched the woman draw back from his lips. Then, suddenly, John Doe coughed up all the water that was in his lungs. Mary Margaret grinned in relief and cupped his face in her hands, their eyes meeting.

"You saved me," John Doe whispered breathlessly.

"She did it," Henry smiled as he watched his teacher and John Doe in awe. "She did it! She woke him up!"

"Yeah, kid," Emma breathed. "She did."

"Thank you," John Doe whispered as he continued to stare into the eyes of the beautiful woman hovering above him. There was something about her that made him never want to look away.

"Who are you?" Mary Margaret asked.

"I don't know."

"It's okay," Mary Margaret reassured. The sound of two ambulances could be heard in the distance, causing her smile to widen even more. "You're going to be okay."

　
CHRISTOPHER ROBIN LEAD the way through the woods, for he was the only one who knew the Hundred Acre Wood and all the spots where they could hit out. The man whipped the reins, urging Chestnut to move faster, for he could still hear the faint battle cries from the soldiers chasing them.

"Do you ever know where you are going?" James hollered.

"Of course!" Christopher replied. "This place is my home. I know it better than anyone else."

"It's true, he does!" Red confirmed, her arms tightening around Christopher's waist as Chestnut jumped over a log in the middle of the woods.

"There's a place where we can ditch them up ahead," Christopher explained, briefly glancing at James. "Just stay close."

James nodded, trusting him.

Christopher could see some low tree branches up ahead and quickly alerted the others so they would get hit. "Look out!" he warned, ducking his head as Chestnut led them underneath the branches.

Both Christopher and James safely ducked under the branches in time. Red, however, had been looking over their shoulders, watching for the soldiers, and hadn't heard Christopher in time. When she turned back around, the branch knocked her off of Chestnut's back with a pained groan.

Christopher felt her arms leave his waist followed by a pained groan and immediately tugged on the reins to stop Chestnut. He looked behind him, eyes widening when he saw Red laying on the ground.

"Red!" Christopher exclaimed, turning Chestnut around and galloping over to her side. He jumped down and helped her up from the ground, frowning at the small cut oozing on her forehead from where the branch had hit her in the face. "Are you okay? Why didn't you duck?"

"I'm fine," Red said reassuringly.

"We need to move," James said as he galloped over. He looked out into the trees where they could hear the sounds of hooves getting closer. "They're catching up to us."

"Go. I'll take care of them."

Christopher looked at his best friend with wide eyes. "What? No! Red, we're not leaving you behind. No way."

"Help James find Snow," Red told him. "That's all that matters. Find her!"

"What are you gonna do?" James asked.

Her eyes shimmered gold and as she reached up to remove her red cloak. "I'm giving you a head start."

"Red, no," Christopher pleaded.

"Go," she said, nudging him toward Chestnut. "I'll be fine. I promise. Get James out of here."

Christopher hesitated for a moment, but when Red turned away and dropped her red cloak, shifting into wolf form and causing James' eyes to widen in surprise, he knew that he didn't have a choice but to leave his best friend behind. Without his sword, he was useless in a fight.

Reluctantly, Christopher turned away from Red as she charged into the trees and began attacking King George and his soldiers. He quickly mounted Chestnut and whipped the reins, leading James deeper into the woods and away from the soldiers as they continued searching for Snow White.

　
ALAN HAD NEVER BEEN a big fan of hospitals growing up, and he still wasn't a fan of them as an adult. But he was sitting on a bed in the Emergency Room regardless of how he felt, the Mayor's sister, Esther Mills, having just finished giving him a thorough examination. She said that he had a minor concussion and required some stitches for his head laceration, but thankfully nothing was broken and he could go home tonight if he was feeling okay.

It wasn't too long before Ruby Lucas came bursting through the doors of the Emergency Room with a panicked expressiom plastered as her face. She glanced around the room, and when she spotted her best friend sitting up in bed with an ice pack pressed against his head, she immediately ran over.

Ruby stopped in front of him, gasping when she noticed the blood on his face and on the front of his shirt. She shook her head at the sight of his injuries and then launched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, being mindful of her best friend's injuries so she wouldn't cause him any pain.

Alan lowered the ice pack so he could wrap his arms around his best friend. He ran a hand up and down her spine and kissed her red-streaked hair reassuringly. "I'm okay," he said. "I'm okay, Ruby."

She pulled back and looked into his eyes, frowning in concern. "What happened?"

"It's a long story," he replied. "I'll tell you about it later."

Ruby nodded and then stepped forward, carefully taking his face in her hands so she could get a good look at his injuries. "Let me see," she insisted softly, turning his head to the side. And he let her because he knew how worried she was about him. "It doesn't look so bad. So what's the verdict?"

"A minor concussion and some stitches," Alan replied. "Dr. Mills says I'm lucky that nothing was broken. She's writing me a prescription for the headaches and pain. Good news is I can go home tonight."

"Well, it's a good thing I love your couch then," Ruby said, placing her hands on hips. "Because I don't plan on leaving your side tonight. Have you been discharged yet?"

Alan smiled at her words. The moment the nurse told him that she had called his emergency contact, he knew Ruby would volunteer to take care of him. "Not yet," he replied. "But I think they're drawing up the papers, so it shouldn't be too long now."

Suddenly, a teary-eyed Mary Margaret was approaching. Her lips were quivering, causing them to frown in concern as they watched her try to keep herself together and not fall apart in the middle of the Emergency Room.

"Hey, woah, what's the matter?" Ruby asked, stepping away from Alan to approach her distraught friend.

Alan frowned. "Is John Doe⎯⎯?"

"He's alive," Mary Margaret cut him off, causing him to nod in relief. Her eyes flickered between him and Ruby. "But h-his wife showed up."

Alan's eyes widened. Wife? He definitely wasn't expecting that.

"His name is David Nolan and Kathryn, his wife, put out a missing person's report when he first disappeared," Mary Margaret explained before bursting into sobs. "S-She's been looking for him ever since."

Ruby didn't hesitate to step forward and pull the woman into her arms, comforting her friend as Mary Margaret wept for the man that she had grown fond of after only a short time of knowing him.

a/n: so you guys finally got see how he met emma's dad in both the enchanted forest and storybrooke! he also got to meet ruth (david's mother) which was pretty cool to mention. anyways, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

also, esther mills is technically regina's cousin, not her sister. but they were raised as sisters so that is what they consider each other. the mills sisters currently have a very trained relationship in season one because of the dark curse and some things that happened between them in the enchanted forest, which will be explained in esther's fic! her love interest is killian jones btw 😉 and i'll also be writing a separate fic for regina and love interest as well!