Lost Boys (5)

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Regina Mills stopped dead in her tracks. Her sight caught a familiar baby-blue jeep. Regina slowly walked forward, never taking her eyes off the jeep. She opened the door, it was unlocked. She got into the familiar driver's seat and inhaled the old musty scent. Tears sprinkled down her face. She opened the glove box and rummaged through it, searching for something. She finally found it. A locket. The locket was shaped like a golden heart. She opened the precious object. Inside it read

To my dearest son, Mischief.

Regina cries harder. Her son is here. The son she could not take care of. The son she desperatly wanted to watch grow but could not because of her enemies. Regina rummages through the glovebox once agian and found a wallet. She opened it and saw a familiar face. The face of the boy she met only a few moments ago. Mieczyslaw Stilinski.

"So you're telling me that fairy tales are real and that everyone in your town is from said fairy tales?" Stiles summarized.

"Yup." Henry popped the 'p.'

"Huh." Stiles said simply. "I think I'm in shock."

"You're actually taking it pretty well. It took me a while to convince everyone." Henry said, relieved he didn't have to convince Stiles.

"Yeah, well, you be suprised at what I know." Stiles let out a bitter laugh.

"Really? " Henry turned his head towards Stiles. "Like what?"

"Maybe another time, Bud. I think we've both had too much excitement for one day." Stiles chuckled.

"Fair enough." Henry laughed along.

"We're stopping here." Greg said, gathering some rocks and branches to build a fire.

"Are we making smores?" Henry joked making Stiles smile.

"I love smores!" Stiles dragged out the word love.

"No." Greg glared at the two. "We're building a signal. Help me gather some dry leaves. We need to let home office know we're here."

"And what if that's not enough?" Stiles learned her name was Tamara, asked. "What if that empty communicator wasn't an accident?"

"We should leave then." Stiles clapped his hands together.

"Don't let the kid get into your head," Greg said but was quickly silenced from the risking of leaves. The group became silent as roughly fifteen boys with makeshift hoods surrounded them. Makeshift hoods covered most of their faces.

"Who are you?" Greg asked, stepping away from them.

"We're the home office." A boy who leant against a tree branch said with deadpanned look. He was tall, with dirty blond hair. The only one who's good did not cover his face. Dirt painted over his face but effectively drew the attention towards his bright blue eyes. "Welcome to Neverland."

"The home office is a bunch of teenagers?" Tamara asked, annoyed.

"They're not teenagers," Henry announced, drawing the attention to him. "They're the lost boys."

"Look at that." The same boy smiled and not a nice one. "A knowledgeable person."

"Why do the lost boys want to destroy magic?" Henry asked, ignoring the boy.

"Who said we wanted to destroy magic?" The boy tilted his head.

"Well, tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber over here." Stiles pointed to his kidnappers. The lost boys attention shifted to Stiles making him shuffle under the new attention.

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