A KIND OF MAGIC ↝ Killian Jones

⇒ CHAPTER TWENTY

  NIGHTFALL HAD ALREADY descended on the town of Storybrooke, which Wilma had never expected to find herself back in, but it was there, and it felt more real than the fake life she had been living for the past year. Emma led the way with her yellow car, the bright Bug lighting up the dark streets as she calmly drove over the town line and looked around the familiar surroundings. Wilma was the opposite though — her Corvette was but a red flash as she sped into town, her fingers tapping against the leather wheel along the music that blasted from the speakers, and a grin on her painted lips. Killian wasn't as enthusiastic as her, though, he just sat paralyzed on the passenger seat and prayed that her reckless driving wouldn't get them killed. In her opinion, it wasn't reckless though, just carefree, but the pirate disagreed wholeheartedly.

  "Darling, you drive like a bloody maniac", he breathed out, as if traumatized by this experience, when she parked the car on the side of the street and took the keys out after stopping the vehicle. Killian wasted no time, he instantly jumped out of the death trap, which made Wilma snicker as she followed suit and left Iron Maiden.

  "Pfft, nonsense", she grinned, although she was aware that perhaps she passed the speed limit by a few numbers, but it wasn't like the Sheriff was going to arrest her — the Sheriff was her good friend, who left her own car then, with amazement twisting her features.

  It was then that Wilma found the time to look around and breathe in the air, feel the ground beneath her feet, let the feeling of home spread out within her as she eyed the familiar buildings and streets. She had missed this place, although the lack of memories hadn't given her ability to do so, but now that Wilma stood there, she remembered how painful it had been to leave in the first place. This was where she belonged, there was no doubt of it, and being back inevitably forced a smile onto her lips. New York was her home once, but now, it was a pathetic excuse of one and it hadn't required much of her to leave it behind. But when it came to Storybrooke, she never wanted to leave again.

  However, she didn't fully realize that all her friends were there too, not until Emma had put Killian on babysit duty, as Henry was slumbering on the backseat of her car, and then started to walk away. Wilma had barely time to question where the Savior was headed to, when Emma had already pointed out that she needed to see her parents, and shock dawned on Wilma — of course. They were all there, and frankly, she instantly felt the need to go with her and see her best friend after so long, a need that could only be cured by being wrapped up in Charming's tight hugs again. And Snow... God, how Wilma had missed her, too.

  "Oh my god, of course. Yes. Yes!", she let out happy giggles, and after placing a gentle kiss on Killian's cheek, Wilma rushed after Emma to join her at the Blanchard loft. There was so much she wanted to say and do and talk about and ask and know. After all, it had been an entire year without Snow White and Prince Charming in their lives, and Wilma could tell Emma was painfully aware of this too — she was evidently, and understandably, nervous as she knocked on the couple's front door, her mind going over a million different scenarios and ways of how this could go.

  What if their memories would be gone, like they once were? What if Wilma, and their own daughter would just be strangers, someone unfamiliar knocking on their door at ungodly hours, intervening their sleep, their peace, their blissfully ignorant lives?

  They thought about it all, and it wasn't until David finally answered the door and met the two women waiting on the other side, that Wilma's heart sank with panic. He looked as glorious as ever, really, just as dreamy and charming as Wilma had remembered, although his hair had gotten longer and she instantly noticed the rogue curls resting on his forehead. The look in his eyes, however, it was impossible to read, but surprise was definitely mixed with whatever the shade of deep blue was sparkling with. Emma begged him to not close the door, clearly considering the same thing Wilma was — that he didn't know who they were, but just as the blonde was about to speak up in order to introduce herself, David had pulled his daughter in for a hug.