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Chapter Text

Madellaine used to believe in fairy tales. She had a dog-eared and faded copy of a book by the Brothers Grimm that had been her only companion for years. And when the tall, handsome Philippe Sarousch had chosen to adopt her, she truly thought all of her dreams had come true. That Prince Charmings existed, right alongside the fabled Knights in Shining Armor.

But it didn’t take long to realize Sarousch had chosen her for a specific purpose. For her creativity and cunning. He was positively inspired by her schemes. After all, at only 7 years old, she had managed to trick the orphanage into ordering extra shipments of bread and powdered milk. All it took was to create a safe place to hide the supplies and make claims that they had been stolen. It wasn’t too far from the truth, since crime was rampant after the latest global economic crash in 2058. Maddy’s scheme meant that the other children didn’t go to bed hungry anymore. 

As she matured, she began to realize that Sarousch was a bit of a con man. He always managed to rope Maddy into his plans. They went door-to-door asking for donations for the very orphanage she had grown up in. But when she grew too tall to play the “poor, unfortunate orphan,” he dressed as a priest and asked for money to repair the broken steeple at the local church (which he had destroyed himself). None of the money went to its intended recipients, of course. It went straight into Sarousch’s pockets.

“I’m making a better life for us. For you, my dear Madellaine.”

For a long time, she believed him. And in 2074, Sarousch managed his biggest con yet. He became President of the United Conglomerate States of America. He passed himself off as “a man of the people.” And with his blonde-haired, (brown)-eyed adopted daughter Madellaine, he won hearts with his sob story of becoming a single father, saddled with the responsibility of raising a young child (all evidence to the contrary had been destroyed, leaving behind a falsified birth certificate). 

“And haven’t I done a good job?” He usually said. It was passed off as humor, but really, he was patting himself on the back.

“Which humanitarian mission is this, again?” Belle asked, drawing Maddy back to reality.

She rolled her eyes at her assistant (and coincidentally, her best friend). “You were there when my dad signed the papers. We’re literally on our way to ship out.”

“Yeah, but I was distracted by that really hot guy in the lobby.”

“The Friar? Are you absolutely nuts, Belle? He’s got a rap sheet as long as your arm.” She sighed, knowing her friend’s penchant for “bad boys.” Belle believed in her own sort of fairy tales. Dark ones, with plenty of dubious consent between the two main characters.

“It’s my toxic trait. Or my kink,” Belle said with a shrug. “Call it what you will, Maddy.”

She smirked. “We listen and we don’t judge.”

Belle cackled at Maddy’s tone, as if she was talking to a precocious toddler. “God, it must be so exhausting being the president’s daughter. Having to be so squeaky-clean all the time. Feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, saving sick puppies. And now this latest venture. I don’t know how you do it all.”

Maddy frowned at that. Because her incredible drive to “give back” was only as a result of her father’s corruption. She was just a pawn to him. In fact, instead of being embarrassed by how much Maddy did for others, he used it to his own advantage. 

“See what a loving, caring woman I’ve raised? Vote for me!”

And dammit, it had worked. Again. It was 2078, and Philippe Sarousch was just beginning his second term as president. After the two-term-limit had been abolished back in 2025, she was certain her father would hold office for as long as he possibly could.

But this little jaunt to MS One was different from her usual humanitarian efforts. Maddy had been doing her research for over a year, and she just needed to get a bit more information in place before she revealed the full, ugly truth to the world. 

“I’m not as squeaky-clean as you think,” Maddy said, linking arms with Belle as they walked towards the hangar.

“Oh, do tell,” Belle said with a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t hold back. Don’t pull your punches. I want to know all about it.”

“Did I hear something about punches?”

Belle groaned and glared at the hulking figure that had appeared out of nowhere. “Do you always have to eavesdrop, Gaston?”

“Yes. Because I care.”

She huffed an irritated sigh.

“I was just going to say, on the subject of punching, that I beat the record at the gym last week,” he said, giving Belle a sidelong look.

“I really don’t care how many people you knocked out this week,” she snapped. 

Maddy ignored their bickering for a moment. She might have likened them to siblings, if Gaston wasn’t constantly trying to get into Belle’s pants. He was muscular and like a full-size version of a Ken doll, but he wasn’t nearly “bad” enough to meet Belle’s standards. He was like an irritating little puppy, following her around and trying his damndest to catch her attention. But he also had a healthy ego, which was the most off-putting quality.

Soon enough, they were bustled onto a private shuttle and on their way through the atmosphere. Maddy took a shuddering breath once the spacecraft settled back into a smooth ride. Passing through the atmosphere was always a nerve-wracking experience. 

“Is this your first time in orbit?” Hugo, the head of security on MS One asked. He gave Maddy a slightly sympathetic, oh-poor-you sort of smile.

Her returning smile was tight. Belle knew that Maddy was about to show this guy that she wasn’t just a dumb blonde (her hair was dyed, anyway. She was a natural brunette, like Belle). 

No, Maddy was much more than a pretty face to stand behind her father during speeches. “My father took me up in the Hilton Orbital last year.”

“Would you like a quick briefing before we arrive?” Hugo asked, unimpressed.

“Yes, please,” she said with a meek smile.

Gaston and Belle exchanged a glance. Maddy didn’t need a briefing. She probably knew more than the guy who actually worked as the prison warden on MS One to begin with.

“Well, this place has been a very successful experiment,” Hugo said, his voice full of pride. “The first 500 test cases have been serving time without incident. Once we open for business properly, we’ll be able to rent space to 500,000 prisoners and counting. With the overcrowding issues across the world, you know how important that will be. All countries are eligible, and all of them will be overseen by the UCSA.”

“Which is why I’m here,” Maddy said with another tight smile.

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “MS One is the only supermax facility in existence where there is no physical or sexual abuse, and no breakouts or riots.”

“Because you put the prisoners to sleep?” It wasn’t really a question. She already knew the answer.

“It’s called stasis,” Hugo corrected. 

“Of course. But there are a few issues with stasis, are there not? Aggression due to damage of the cortex, dementia, psychosis.”

His returning smile was more like a sneer. “Well, you know the press,” he said, holding up that morning’s newspaper with Philippe Sarouche’s face on the front cover, as usual. “Good news doesn’t sell. Those were early teething problems. The UCSA has nothing to worry about.”

Maddy’s face hardened. We’ll see about that, she seemed to say as she glanced at Belle.

—

Things couldn’t get much worse for Snow. Well…they could, actually. He really shouldn’t tempt fate with that line of thinking.

He was chained to a chair in an underground interrogation chamber (dungeon, more like). And some meathead of a bodyguard was punching him in the face for being so cheeky.

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Frollo said. He was some Secret Service guy in a suit who didn’t have the guts to manhandle his witness himself. He had to outsource it, which really made Snow lose what little respect he had for the guy (which was next to nothing). 

“I really think you are, though,” Snow said flatly, which was rewarded with another punch from Meathead.

“They call you the hunchback, don’t they?”

Snow’s eyes flashed.

“Or was it…Quasimodo?”

He disguised his anger with humor. It was his stock-in-trade. “It’s really not nice to comment on someone’s body. It’s not my fault I’m this short and ugly. And I prefer Snow.”

“More like Snow White,” the meathead muttered.

“Wow, that was actually pretty clever,” Snow said, giving the guy a wide grin. “But it would have been funnier if you had called me one of her dwarves.” He got another punch for that.

“What happened in that room? Where is the briefcase?” Frollo said. He wasn’t at all amused with Snow’s flippant attitude.

Snow hummed, trying to regain his bearings. His ears were ringing. And so, he did what he always did, and resorted to humor. “It had your mom’s phone number in it. But since nobody wanted it—”

Another punch. Meathead was burly enough, but his punches were only glancing off of Snow’s face, especially when he turned at the last second. What’s-his-name was annoyingly predictable.

Frollo would ask a question. Snow would retort with a smartass comment. Meathead would throw a punch. Over and over, until Snow was certain a back molar was coming loose. 

Not another one, he bemoaned.

It might have been funny, if Frollo wasn’t rubbing salt in an open wound by sitting there with Phoebus’s lighter in his hand. He kept flicking it open and lighting the flame with a particular sparkle in his dark eyes.

Don’t let them take this, Phoebus had said. His last dying words, actually, as he pressed the lighter into Snow’s hand and glanced at the briefcase. Well, Snow hadn’t kept his end of the bargain. He had no idea if the briefcase was still in Zephyr’s possession, and this Frollo guy was taunting him with the lighter.

“What happened in that room?” Frollo said, leaning forward to brandish the silver lighter in front of the other man’s face.

Snow’s mind flashed back to the events from three hours prior. Just when everything had gone to shit.

He and Phoebus had just exchanged pleasantries when the hotel door was kicked open with incredible force. What followed was a bit of hand-to-hand combat, and then a showdown between Snow, Phoebus, and the two assholes who had been sent to deal with them. No doubt they had a whole squadron of guys with plenty of gunfire on the street below. Whatever secrets were contained in that briefcase, someone else really wanted them. Or, more likely, didn’t want Snow to release the secrets to the public. 

Someone with a lot of power wanted to shut them up.

Still, the four men stood there, guns drawn and waiting for someone to make the first move. If someone so much as twitched wrong, Snow was going to end their lives with two expert shots to the head. As it happened, Snow’s phone rang, and the guy on the left was a bit too twitchy. His gun went off, and Snow reacted accordingly. But it wasn’t just the two men across from him that fell to the ground. Phoebus had been hit.

“Hey. Hunchback,” Frollo said, snapping his fingers in Snow’s face. “Why did you kill Phoebus?”

Frollo’s question brought Snow crashing back to reality. “What?”

Frollo was balding and a little sweaty (which told Snow that he was nervous, or overly eager to get answers. This guy was wound up tighter than a bishop’s balls in a brothel). What remained of Frollo’s hair had been dyed a bit too dark, even the goatee around his mouth, which only made him look like a man clinging to his youth with greedy, inept fingers.

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Frollo said with an irritating little smirk. He probably had something up his sleeve, and it didn’t look good for Snow.

“Is this some sort of setup?” Snow said. 

And for the first time, he felt rattled. If Meathead tried to punch him at that moment, he wouldn’t be ready for it. 

Zephyr had warned him that the whole thing was a double-cross. It was how the men knew they’d be there. Somehow, some way, the powers that be had discovered Phoebus was in possession of crucial secrets about the President’s space program. It was only through more blood, sweat, and maybe a few tears that Snow had even managed to get the briefcase into Zephyr’s hands. He didn’t even have time to tell the young man that his own father had been killed in the process.

Zephyr was going to mourn the loss, right alongside Snow, who had teamed up with Phoebus a long time ago. When both of them had become disillusioned with the crumbling wreckage of the International Bureau of Investigation (the IBI, formerly the FBI—but that was before America had gotten greedy and added a few more countries to its own map). Snow and Phoebus had bonded over the ineptitude and corruption of the Bureau. Evidence of that was sitting directly across from him.

“Where is the briefcase?” Frollo said. He was just the sort of goon in a suit that Snow really despised. Especially because at that moment, the only person he could blame for Phoebus’s death was this asshole and his other meathead goons.

But Snow could say, in all honesty, “I don’t have a fucking clue.” He didn’t even know if Zephyr was still alive. 

“Who was the mystery man on the phone?” Frollo asked.

“His name was Fuck You. He was Asian.”

Meathead punched him again. That one hurt. He spit the molar onto the table.

“I really don’t like hurting you, Snow.”

“Is that why you’re having him do it?” He said, gesturing towards the muscular man looming over him.

“I can have Rupert bludgeon you all night.”

Snow scoffed. “I’m being beaten up by a guy called Rupert?”

Meathead—Rupert didn’t like this and hit him even harder this time. 

Snow saw stars for a few moments.

“We had Colonel Phoebus under surveillance. It seems he was selling secrets about the President’s space program.”

“That’s interesting, because Phoebus told me he was protecting them.”

“Was that before or after you killed him?”

“Why would I kill him? He was my friend.”

“I told you. I saw it with my own eyes,” Frollo said. He grabbed a remote and switched on the TV. And Snow was forced to watch footage of what looked like…

Snow shooting Phoebus in the head.

“That’s not what happened.” His pulse was racing. This really didn’t look good for him. The footage had to be doctored somehow.

“Running out of jokes, are we?” Frollo said.

Snow shook his head. No, he couldn’t fall back on his humor at that moment. This was definitely a setup. Either that, or the guys at the Bureau actually believed that Snow, a rogue former IBI agent with a murky past, had killed his only friend. Things looked pretty hopeless for him. 

He tried to explain how Phoebus had asked for Snow’s help, since he didn’t trust the Bureau anymore. But this only led to Frollo demanding to know the name of Snow’s contact, the one he had passed the briefcase to at the last second on a departing train.

“Why do I get the feeling that not telling you is the only thing keeping him alive?” Snow said with a return to his usual sarcasm.

Rupert punched him again.

And then, the first glimmer of hope walked through the door. Clopin Trouillefou, head of the CIA. Snow appreciated the CIA for at least trying to keep the IBI in check. It was a monumental task, after President Philippe Sarousch had given the International Bureau near-absolute control. It seemed America also had a renewed appreciation for Frenchmen, given their president’s background and lovely, adopted daughter Madellaine. He had charmed his way into a second term, despite having less than 50 percent approval from the country-conglomerate’s reluctant citizens.

“That’s enough,” Clopin said. He sauntered in there, looking tired and put-out with life. Snow could relate on a deep, spiritual level.

Frollo looked irritated by Clopin’s presence. It only made Snow like this CIA guy even more. Especially when Clopin told Frollo to call off his goon and remove his shackles.

As Rupert begrudgingly unlocked the cuffs, Snow just grinned up at him. The meathead definitely wanted to give Snow one last punch.

“I can’t tell if he’s really stupid or a good liar,” Frollo said as he stood up to leave. “Either way, MS One would have been good for him.”

“Guy’s a tool,” Clopin said, not even bothering to wait until Frollo was out of earshot. He dropped a pack of cigarettes on the table and helped himself to a pistachio. “Want a nut?”

“Nah, I’m trying to give them up,” he said as he pulled a cigarette out of the pack that Clopin had set between them. Snow wiped his dripping nose on the back of his hand and leaned forward so Clopin could light the cigarette.

“I’m sorry to hear about Phoebus,” Clopin said, snapping the silver lighter shut. “He was one of the good guys.”

Snow nodded his head. “He’ll be missed by his family.” He thought of Esmeralda, waiting patiently in their safe house for some sign that Phoebus and their son Zephyr were safe. God, in another life, maybe Snow would have actually had a chance with the gorgeous, dusky-skinned Romani woman. But she had only ever had eyes for Phoebus. And he couldn’t blame her one bit. 

Now, her heart would be broken. Especially if Zephyr didn’t survive this either.

And that was when Snow came to a decision. He wouldn’t make it too easy for this CIA guy—and he couldn’t, not with Frollo listening in on the other side of the mirrored glass nearby. But he still found a way to get a message to Clopin, in a way that Frollo wouldn’t be able to see. Not even with the security cameras. 

The bag of pistachio nuts, the coffee cup, the cigarettes—all of this was intentional. Props. A way to block the top of the table from view as Snow wrote a name in the ashes from his cigarette.

Zephyr.

Snow was taken back to his cell, where he was sure to face punishment sooner or later. The IBI had set him up for murder and the theft of state secrets. There just so happened to be a nifty little place for people who committed crimes against America and its conglomerates. He wasn’t at all surprised to find that he was being sent to MS One.

Except, two days later, there was a sudden change in plans.

“Let me get this straight. Instead of being sent there as punishment, you want me to willingly go on MS One to save the President’s daughter?” Snow said, gazing in open disdain at Frollo. “I’d rather castrate myself with blunt rocks.”

“Please, Snow. We’re out of options.”

“So, I was the last resort. I’m flattered,” Snow said, narrowing his eyes at Clopin.

“I’d reconsider, Snow,” Frollo added. “If you’re successful, the president is willing to offer you full immunity for your crimes.”

My supposed crimes, Snow wanted to retort. But he didn’t. “That’s if I don’t die trying to break into a maximum-security nuthouse in space. And if she’s even still alive, after you guys woke up the psychos.”

“Exactly,” Clopin said, tapping his paper coffee cup. “Piece of cake.”

It was only then that Snow saw there was writing on the cup, just above Clopin’s umber-toned hand. 

Zephyr is on MS One.

Snow huffed out a sigh. Well, he didn’t have much choice now. “Fuck it. I’ll do it.” And after giving Rupert a fond farewell (the man scowled in reply), he held out his hand to Clopin, who placed Phoebus’s lighter into his palm.

Frollo didn’t like this one bit. But he was forced to wear a tight smile as he stepped aside, letting Snow walk free of his jail cell.

Chapter Text

ONE HOUR BEFORE SHIT HIT THE FAN

As they approached the impressive and gleaming structure floating just above Earth’s atmosphere, Belle pointed to a machine that was working its way along the bottom of the massive station. “What’s that?”

“Maintenance,” he said. “Parts of MS One are still under construction and require constant supervision.”

Belle wasn’t sure how encouraging that was, since they were about to step on board the structure. But she filed this information away for later while they prepared to dock.

There was a bit of shuffling around as Maddy and her usual collection of bodyguards and assistants filed through to get their pictures taken. They were told never to lose their name tags as this was a safety feature, in addition to a device that looked like a wristwatch. They learned these were radiation tags that they were to keep on at all times.

“Purely as a precaution,” Hugo ensured them, since any radiation was minimal unless you wandered into the bowels of the ship, which was powered with a volatile but “very well-contained” nuclear reaction at its core. Not to mention the naturally-occurring radiation in space. Hugo added that they hadn’t experienced a severe solar flare in quite some time, so they were probably fine.

For the first time, Belle’s anticipation of the trip waned. The realities of their situation came home. This was much more than a humanitarian visit. It was a mission for the truth, and it was dangerous as hell.

“You alright?” Gaston said in her ear.

She swatted at him like he was a fly buzzing around her head. “I’m fine. When can we meet some prisoners? I’ve already got my eye on a few of them.”

It was Gaston’s turn to roll his eyes. He had witnessed the way Belle had been flipping through the digital roster of inmates and drooling over some of the ones she considered to be attractive. “You want to take one home like a trophy? Or do you plan to ‘fix him’ like those women in your fanfiction stories?”

Belle blushed for the first time in a long time (mostly because she didn’t know that anyone else knew about her reading habits). She punched him in his overly muscular arm, and it hurt her hand much more than it hurt him.

The group waited beside the elevator, but Maddy wasn’t done asking Hugo some probing questions. “Isn’t the true purpose of MS One to test the effects of deep space exploration on humans? Who better than guinea pigs with no rights?”

His smirk creased the side of his face. “I’ve heard that urban legend. Look, Miss Sarousch—”

“Maddy, please,” she corrected. She detested her adopted last name. Mostly because it was attached to her detestable father.

“Miss Maddy, these aren’t just traffic offenders we’re keeping in here. These men have done some pretty awful things. Rape, murder, human trafficking…the list goes on.”

“Of course. But is it purely coincidental that one of the main sources of funding is a deep space exploration company? Surely you don’t think they’re paying out millions of dollars to be civically minded?”

“Well, I’m just an old prison warden,” he said with an amused chuckle. “I couldn’t possibly speculate on the motives of global corporations. Anyway, isn’t Sanctuary AeroSpace the largest contributor to your charity group?”

Maddy was surprised to discover this Hugo guy wasn’t such an idiot after all. She gave him a tight smile, and a begrudging respect (or more like resigned acceptance) passed between them.

His tone was decidedly patronizing as he talked while the elevator moved steadily down. “We’re going to put on a little show. You’ll get to meet a couple of convicts and have a scary story to tell your friends. And let’s just hope that when you sign off on this place, we can all get back to making the world a better place.”

She sighed and didn’t bother faking a smile at the accusation in his words. She might have even considered it a threat, if she looked hard enough.

They were shown the impressive General Population room, which stretched out for nearly a mile in every direction. Rows and rows of rectangular containers with small, back-lit windows. 

“This place isn’t fully occupied,” Hugo said. “Yet.” And he tossed a meaningful glance at Maddy.

But she really felt like 500 was too much to start with. She couldn’t even fathom what it would be like with 500,000 prisoners on board. 

Then, Hugo said it was time to start the interviews.

“No weapons past this point,” one of the men said, stopping Gaston in his tracks. He had somehow avoided being frisked by some of the security officers earlier. Belle watched as he scowled when his holster was emptied of its usual pistol. Though, she noted that the officer didn’t seem to notice the one concealed in his ankle holster. 

Belle and Gaston exchanged a smirk. She didn’t blame him. This place was freaking her out. She’d feel better if she could at least keep her can of mace with her. But that had been confiscated, along with her nail file, clippers, and tiny pocket knife.

Maddy was led into a room split in half by a metal cage and bullet-proof glass. The convict sat on his side in his orange jumpsuit. Maddy felt sick to her stomach at the mere sight of him. One eye was foggy in appearance, and his teeth were in rough shape with a few of them capped by gold. He had a rectangular shaped scar under his good eye. But the way he was looking at her…it made her want to puke.

“How are you feeling today?” She said. Her voice was much calmer and steadier than she felt, for which she was grateful.

The man just gazed at her in a piercing manner before jerking his shackled hands up near his face in an erratic gesture. She jumped and Gaston, who was standing next to the prisoner on the other side, took half a step forward. But she just gestured for him to back up. She was in no danger here.

She cleared her throat. “They call you ‘The Fool.’ Is that what you’d like me to call you?”

“Ye can call me whatever ye like, lass,” he said in a thick accent. Scottish, if she had to guess. But there was something else in it, too…Welsh, perhaps.

She cleared her throat. “Mr. Hyde, are you experiencing any disorientation?”

“I can’t see outta that eye anymore,” he said, pointing to the foggy one.

She frowned. “What happened to your face? Did you burn it?”

“Yeah, it’s a love bite,” he said with a wide grin, showing off his shiny capped teeth.

She decided not to pry any further and insisted she would be asking some questions about his experience and treatment on MS One. “Do you dream while you’re under?”

“Well, I’m goin’ ta dream about you, aren’t I?”

Maddy’s lips thinned in an unhappy line. “I’d appreciate it if you take this seriously.”

“Oh, it’s very serious. Very serious, lass.”

She knew he was teasing her. Still, she had questions and she wanted answers. “It says here you were convicted of aggravated physical assault.”

“I’m innocent. That wasnae me.”

Gaston snorted in derision, which The Fool didn’t like one bit. 

“So, it’s 53 counts of mistaken identity?” Maddy asked, drawing his attention back to her. 

“I’ve a very familiar face.” 

He leaned forward and she could see myriad tattoos on his body on every exposed bit of skin. The knuckles of his hands, his wrists, and his chest. He had an obscene one on his neck depicting a woman and man engaging in sex. The woman was on all fours in front of him, which she guessed was his idea of dominance over a woman. 

“You’ve a very kind face,” he said. His eyes were intense and piercing as he gazed at her through the glass. “It’s lovely. You’re perfect, you are. I bet you got a nice smile. Do a lil’ smile for me.”

When she just stared at him, dead-panned, he slammed his shackled hands on the table. “Smile!” 

Maddy jumped.

Gaston took a step closer to the man on the other side. “Easy,” he warned, and Maddy was certain he flexed his arms a bit, just to show this Fool that he could snap his neck in two seconds flat.

“Gaston,” she said, shaking her head at him. Intimidating this criminal wasn’t going to do anything but rile him up even further.

Even Belle was shaking her head. She knew her job was to stand quietly in the corner, but so was Gaston’s, and he sucked at it.

“Answer the question,” Gaston said, glaring down at the shackled man.

But Mr. Hyde just stared up at Gaston with lips coated in spittle. It was almost like he was drooling, like he wanted to take a bite out of the burly man standing over him. “What’s that smell?” The Fool said, sniffing the air and fixing his gaze briefly on the crotch of Gaston’s pants. “You’re wearing perfume.”

Maddy watched as a muscle in Gaston’s jaw flexed. “Mr. Hyde,” she said, hoping to break up whatever dick-measuring contest was about to happen between the men. “Answer the question.”

“Answer it,” Gaston insisted.

“You wanna know what I think? You’re a bad man,” The Fool said.

“Oh, you want to play with me?” Gaston said, ignoring Maddy’s repeated warnings to step back.

The Fool stood to his feet, and Gaston lunged forward, forcing the other man down by slamming his head against the table.

The Fool was laughing. “Ya wanna know what I was doing before I was convicted of rape?” He said with a sneer at Gaston, whose massive hand was still pressing his head against the tabletop.

“Surprise me, shithead,” Gaston challenged.

“I was a pickpocket,” he said. And then he lifted the pistol from Gaston’s ankle holster.

Maddy shouted, but it was too late. The gun went off, grazing Gaston’s cheek. He stumbled back, startled by the enormous sound of the gun so close to his head and the mind-numbing realization that he had just given this convicted criminal a weapon. Mr. Hyde lunged to his feet and knocked a stunned Gaston aside. He fired at the two security officers on either side of the closed door, and then he fired at the chains of his shackled hands, giving him full range with the weapon.

The guards behind Maddy fired at the glass, which cracked. 

So much for bullet-proof, Belle thought to herself, just before The Fool fired a few rounds from his side, shattering the glass entirely. A stray bullet hit a nearby gas line, and a spray of flames filled the air for a few seconds. She was blown back against the nearest wall, while Maddy threw herself onto the floor.

One of the security guards stood up to fire at The Fool again, but he was too quick. He obliterated the man with a kill-shot to the head. 

Maddy saw Belle lying mostly unconscious nearby, but she was too afraid to rouse her awake. She needed to get out of there quickly and quietly. And she needed to set off some sort of alarm—but she didn’t see anything inside the interview room. The inmate was struggling with the chain on his feet, which gave her the perfect opportunity to slip through the door and into the hallway. 

But she heard a gunshot and then his approaching footsteps. She saw red—a fire alarm. She yanked down the lever and realized she couldn’t go back for her friends. Not with Mr. Hyde in rapid pursuit with a giddy grin on his face. She watched as a set of doors started to close nearby, and she raced towards them, slipping through just before it got too narrow for her body.

There was still enough room for a bullet to slip through, which it did.

Maddy fell to the ground as pain ripped through her thigh. She spun her head around in time to see the doors close, just as The Fool got to them. He pressed his scarred face against the glass, flattening his nose like he was a child peering at her instead of a grown man. He just waved the gun at her and then raced off to cause more trouble elsewhere.

Or, more likely, find another way to get to her.

Maddy limped as quickly as she could down the corridor until she came to a large room with windows on all sides. It said “Control Room” in big red letters above the entrance, and she slipped inside as quickly as she could. But she was starting to get dizzy.

“Smiler! Where are you?” A sing-song, heavily accented voice cried out from nearby. 

God, it was The Fool. He had found her—or followed her trail of blood, more likely.

She grabbed a white lab coat from a nearby hook and began wiping the blood from the floor to cover her tracks. But she spun around in time to see a man in a similar lab coat who looked like he was in a panic.

“What’s going on?” He cried, pointing to the alarm that blared through the speakers above them.

“Hide,” she said in a hushed voice as she limped towards a row of office chairs.

“Wh-what?” The man spluttered uselessly.

“Hide!” She insisted, just as she tucked herself in the darkened corner beneath the control panels.

Ah, my good man!” Mr. Hyde appeared in the doorway. He bared his teeth in an exaggerated smile. “Where is she?”

“Wh-where is who?” the man said. 

Maddy supposed he wasn’t completely useless.

But The Fool was insistent. And when the man continued to deny it, he just slammed the guy’s face into the nearest hard surface. The man in the lab coat groaned in pain and clutched at his nose, which was streaming blood. His eyes wandered over to Maddy, and she quietly shook her head. It was a silent plea for the man to say nothing. To do nothing.

Mr. Hyde laughed as he gazed through the nearest window. “C’mere, my friend,” he said, walking over and snatching the lab-coat guy by the hair. He all but threw him towards one of the panels. “Open ‘em up. All of ‘em.”

Lab-coat guy swallowed audibly. “I don’t—I don’t think that’s—”

But The Fool just brandished his gun. “You should think about your brains hittin’ that window. Get it done.”

Maddy squeezed her eyes shut in a silent scream. 

“Canisters open,” a robotic voice announced.

”Good man. Good man!” The Fool said as he shot lab-coat guy in the head.

Maddy shrank back into the shadows beneath the desk, and she watched in horror as blood pooled around the dead man’s head. And at The Fool’s figure as he paced around the room twice before exiting.

“Remember, safety is our first priority,” the feminine, robotic voice chimed from above. “It has been 364 days since our last incident. Good work, team.”

Maddy breathed out a quiet sigh as Mr. Hyde’s footsteps receded. Her leg was throbbing, and she knew she was losing too much blood. She needed to get out of there. She needed—

“Gotcha!” Mr. Hyde said, jumping into view once more with a sneer on his face.

AFTER SHIT HIT THE FAN

Gaston groaned and sat up. The air was smoky, and he blinked through the haze. His head ached from where he had been slammed against a nearby window, shattering it. A loud alarm blared overhead, and yellow warning lights pulsed in the corridor.

“Shit,” he pronounced, as his memories flooded back. He had really screwed up this time.

He jumped to his feet but saw that Maddy was gone.

“Fuck,” he added. And then, he saw Belle’s body on the floor beside two dead guards. The guard on Gaston’s side of the glass was dead, too.

He vaulted his bulky figure over the table and settled by her side. He called her name a few times, and she grunted. Her eyes opened sluggishly.

“Oh, thank God,” he said, framing her face with his large hands.

“Gaston…” she said, her dark brown eyes looking almost dreamy in her barely-conscious state.

A flare of hope burst through his chest as she raised her hand to place it on the side of his face. “Gaston, you really….”

“Yes?”

“You really fucked up.” And then she slapped him. 

It didn’t really hurt. But he was disappointed, once again, that Belle didn’t react how he wanted her to. That even now, in the midst of all this chaos, she still found a way to shrink him down to size. “I deserved that.”

She pushed his hands away and lifted herself into a sitting position. “We finally agree on something.”

“We need to find Maddy.”

She nodded her head and then groaned. She had a gash above her eyebrow that was sluggishly bleeding. She’d have a few nasty bruises, too. “We can agree on that, too.”

He helped her to her feet and ignored her protests when he gently lifted her in his arms. 

“I am not a damsel in distress,” she declared, even though she had to admit she was way too dizzy to walk for the moment. 

“Yeah, and you’re a lot heavier than I realized, too,” Gaston said, grunting with effort as he carried her through the door.

“I cannot believe you basically just called me fat!”

He smirked and quit the play-acting as he hoisted her a bit higher with ease. He could bench-press 3 times her weight, if he wanted. And he had done so—many times.

“Wow, that was a good one,” she admitted. “You have unsuspected depth, Gaston.”

He stopped walking (mostly because the nearest entrances were shut and locked—some protocol related to whoever had pulled the fire alarm, he gathered). “Enough to consider going out for that date I’ve been asking for since—I don’t know—the moment I laid eyes on you?”

Belle stared up at this Adonis of a man that was holding her. By most women’s standards, he was a complete catch. He was muscular, but not so much that he resembled some sort of body-builder. He had a chiseled jaw with just the right amount of stubble. A full head of hair (enough to hold onto, she imagined), and he was, by all accounts, a nice guy. 

But to Belle…that wasn’t enough. She needed a spark. A real one, and not just this teasing, bantering thing they had going on. She wanted…a little danger.

She wanted—the man walking towards them. Salt-and-pepper hair with a scruffy beard. Piercing blue eyes that sparked with an inner rage. He had a long, thin scar that ran the length of the left side of his face. He wasn’t as fit as Gaston, but he was still broad-shouldered and toned. God, he was the handsomest man Belle had ever seen.

He just so happened to be wearing an orange jumpsuit. As did the crowd of inmates following quickly on his heels. The man in front raised his fist, and the group stopped on silent command.

“Holy hell,” Gaston breathed. 

“On the ground,” the man said in a gruff, accented voice. He raised a military grade rifle in his hands—clearly something he had “picked up” after somehow being revived from stasis. Belle saw that many of the other inmates had similar weapons. Something had gone very, very wrong.

He had a faint but familiar accent. It wasn’t as strong as The Fool’s, but it was a bit softer. Perhaps Welsh, if she had to guess. She really must have hit her head hard, because she relished at the idea of hearing more of that deep voice. This wasn’t the time for fantasies. Still, Belle shivered when his eyes raked over her form. He liked what he saw, but he wasn’t going to act on it. He had other more important things to do.

He pointed the weapon at Gaston. “You armed?”

“Not anymore,” Belle muttered, without thinking. She blamed her head injury.

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly, and it was almost like he was smiling. He didn’t move the barrel of the gun but gave Belle another piercing look. “And you, sweetheart?”

She raised her arms. “Nothing but the underwire in my bra.”

He grunted and turned away. She really thought he was hiding a genuine smile at that. There were a couple of snickers among the other men, too. What the hell was wrong with her? 

“Right,” he declared in a flat tone, all hint of amusement gone. “Come wi’ me.” He gestured with the end of the gun, and Gaston and Belle walked in front of him. 

He followed behind a few paces, along with the other prisoners. She couldn’t turn around and look at him, but she sensed the man’s proximity as if he was pressed up against her. She swore she could feel his gaze like a physical touch every time his eyes wandered over to her. But he told them to stop when they heard raised voices up ahead.

“The sleeping gas—release it!” A voice shouted. Belle recognized it as Hugo, the warden.

The man behind them snatched Belle’s arm and propelled her forward. Gaston moved as if to stop him, but the prisoner just slammed the butt of the rifle into Gaston’s face. Belle heard a sickening crunch and his groan of pain. No doubt his nose was broken. Belle’s eyes were as wide as possible, having witnessed the speed and efficiency of the man’s movements. He loomed towards her and then shoved her not too gently into the room, where Hugo was screaming at a young officer.

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t remember the code? Try it again!”

The prisoner pushed Belle through the doorway. She stumbled directly into Hugo, who let out a stream of curses. Meanwhile, the prisoner knocked the young officer out of the way and fired a shot into his kneecap. While the young man screamed, the prisoner spun around and slammed the end of the rifle into Hugo’s face with deadly force. 

The warden crumpled to the ground beside Belle. The prisoner grabbed two sets of handcuffs and used them to cuff one of Hugo’s hands to the young officer’s, and the young officer’s uninjured leg to a nearby metal pipe.

“That should keep ya busy,” he said in a low growl.

Once again, Belle shivered. She was staring at him openly. He had aged a bit since his mugshot, but…she recognized him.

“You’re The Beast,” she said, not bothering to hide the awe in her tone.

He gave her a guarded look. “Aye.”

“You killed the leaders of several drug rings all over the UK.”

His eyes narrowed again. She wasn’t sure if it was a half-hearted smile or merely his way of trying to peer into her head. His eyes were certainly piercing enough to give the impression that he could read her thoughts. She felt her neck growing hot with a blush. God, she really was messed up in the head.

“And a shopkeeper and her daughter in Paris,” she added.

He raised his hand, and she flinched away, half expecting him to strike her. But he just held up his pointer finger in protest. “That was my brother. I didn’t touch the woman or child.”

Belle opened her mouth to say something. She had no idea what it was, because Gaston was suddenly standing behind him. The Beast saw the way her eyes shifted, and he darted to the side, narrowly missing Gaston’s meaty fist. The other prisoners clearly hadn’t bothered to keep an eye on him.

“Back off, ya behemoth,” The Beast said. 

Gaston’s blood-covered face fell into a look of blank alarm when he realized The Beast had pointed the gun at Belle’s head. Gaston dropped his arm.

One of the other prisoners appeared in the doorway. “Trouble,” was all he said, pointing with his own weapon down the hall.

The Beast shouted, and a few of the other men who had drawn their weapons relaxed. Without warning, he shoved Belle forward, and Gaston was right behind her. There seemed to be a wordless agreement among the men as they fell in line behind The Beast, their de facto leader. Not a single one of them made a move towards the hostages.

Belle became aware of shouting from up ahead. And a familiar voice crying out in protest.

“Get off me!” A woman’s voice cried. It was Maddy.

“Ye’re feisty!” A male voice replied. Of course, it was Mr. Hyde, The Fool. “I like it when they put up a fight.”

Sounds of a scuffle followed and another cry of rage from Maddy. Before Belle could stop herself, she raced into the room and all but threw herself onto Mr. Hyde’s back. He was leaning over Maddy, who was pressed up against a console desk. He had already removed her elegantly tailored blue suit jacket and was working on ripping her pants open. Belle wrapped her arm around Mr. Hyde’s neck and pulled tight enough for him to begin coughing. 

She hazarded one glance back to see that The Beast was looking mildly amused, while holding Gaston back at gunpoint. He was enjoying the view, it seemed. 

The man she was presently choking unexpectedly turned his head and bit her. She was so startled that she released her hold enough for him to spin around and grin wickedly at her. “Another one! Mah lucky day!” He didn’t notice the crowd of men behind her.

“Enough,” a booming voice cried.

Suddenly, The Fool was grabbed by the collar and shoved down on the same console table where Maddy had just been. 

Belle raced over to where Maddy stood, and the two of them huddled against the concrete pillar.  

The Beast loomed over the smaller man with a predatory air as he talked softly. “In less than an hour, all these people, including—” He used the end of the rifle to shift Maddy’s jacket aside, peering down at her name tag. “Including young Madellaine Sarousch here, will be the only thing keeping us alive. You don’t mess with your poker chips.”

The room was quiet, and The Beast’s commanding presence was enough to keep them all in line. Though, the wiry man was still leering openly at Maddy, licking his lips as though he wanted to taste her. Belle shivered, and this time it was in revulsion.

The Beast shoved at the wiry man’s chest. “Make yerself useful for once. Off you go.” He pushed The Fool towards the door, and the man disappeared down the hall.

“MS One. This is LOPD. Do you copy?” A voice crackled over the intercom.

“What’s that?” A man with long, black hair said as he stared down at the screen. Several small ships were approaching MS One.

“LOPD. Lower Orbit Police Department,” The Beast explained. “We’ve got company.”

The Fool returned with another lab-coated figure in tow. “Found a proper egg head,” he declared, shoving the man against the console. “Turn on the guns!”

The poor man was shaking from head to toe as he tapped out a sequence on the console. A panel lifted aside, and a large red button appeared.

The Fool chuckled and raised a fist, intending to pound away at the button, but The Beast stopped him. 

“Not yet,” he said, watching as the ships circled and wove their way around several outer bands of MS One. The entire station was shaped a bit like a hand in a claw formation, with long pieces pointing away from the center reactor core that fueled it. He would rather not have any unnecessary collisions or cross-fire against MS One itself.

The Fool was walking his fingers up the console like a toddler playing games. The Beast glared at him (Belle knew how powerful that glare could be), and The Fool dropped his hand, with a penitent, child-like look. But then, the smaller man’s fist flew through the air and slammed down against the button.

They watched the screen, horror-struck, as the weapons systems turned on. Various gun heads followed the approaching ships and shot them down with deadly accuracy. 

The Beast growled low in his throat and grabbed The Fool by the front of his shirt, shoving him up against the concrete pillar. His feet dangled above the floor. “You think you’re runnin’ the show? Get it through your head! You’re not!” He tapped his fingers against the smaller man’s forehead with each word. 

“Sorry,” The Fool said, puffing his lower lip out in a pout. The Beast dropped him to the ground. Then, Mr. Hyde gave Maddy a wicked grin.

“Fuck,” Belle and Maddy whispered at the same time. But while Maddy’s eyes were trained on her would-be rapist, Belle’s gaze followed The Beast as he stalked around the console.

Chapter Text

“So, how many prisoners are there?”

“497. Mainly rapists and murderers. You’ll fit right in,” Frollo said, giving Snow a mild smirk as he watched the much shorter man strap a few weapons to himself.

But Snow ignored him. “Hey, Rupert, my old pal. Does this come in an extra small?” He tossed the ankle holster at the unsuspecting bodyguard, who just scowled at him and grabbed a smaller one from the armory box on the shuttle and threw it back. 

“You’re a peach,” Snow said with a wink at the taller, burlier man. He was gratified by Rupert’s low grunt of protest. Then, he turned his mind back to the task at hand. “How do we know she’s not dead already?”

Clopin cleared his throat and readjusted his glasses. “She’s wearing a telemetry medical transmitter.”

“I see. The sort of thing that’s reserved for only the rich and well-connected.” Snow wouldn’t be at all surprised if Frollo had one. He was wearing a designer suit. But he very much doubted that Clopin had one. CIA agents were paid less than half what IBI agents were.

“She’s lost a little blood, but it’s not life-threatening. Not yet, anyway,” Clopin added.

“So, if I actually find her, and she’s somehow still alive…how do we get off the ship?”

Frollo’s lips curled in a small smirk. “There’s an escape pod on level 5. It’s not on any of the schematics, but you can find it on this map.” He passed a small digital device to Snow, which he placed around his upper arm. 

Then, Clopin handed snow what looked like a small length of rope covered in duct tape. It had a long, thin wire sticking out of both ends. “What’s this? Friendship bracelet?”

“It’s explosives,” Clopin said, throwing out a warning hand as Snow was about to touch the two ends together. “It’s for blowing up paneling or bulkheads.”

Snow filed that information away for later and strapped the device to his harness. Then, he walked over to the wall where the space suits were hanging. Clopin and Frollo bent over the table to talk logistics and were too distracted to hear what Rupert said.

“Extra small,” Rupert whispered with a smirk as he gave the suit to Snow, whose head barely reached the other guy’s pecs. “For Snow White’s little dwarf.”

Snow’s fist flew through the air and socked Rupert in the jaw hard enough to send him sprawling on the shuttle floor.

“Come on, man,” Frollo said in a stern tone. 

Clopin, however, just bit back a smile as he fixed the headset over Snow’s ears.

—

Belle, Maddy, and Gaston were gathered up and escorted down the hall. From the conversation between The Beast and the long-haired, soft-spoken prisoner, the three of them were being taken to be with “the others.” No doubt they had rounded up more of the crew of MS One and were under the misapprehension that Belle, Gaston, and Maddy were merely crew mates. Especially with the white lab coat that Belle had grabbed and slung over Maddy’s shoulders. The three of them quietly decided to lean into this ruse.

But as they walked through the hallways, Belle noticed a young prisoner was looking especially jumpy—even more so than The Fool, who was twitchy and couldn’t sit still for even a second (and had been relegated to the back of the group for his misbehavior towards Maddy). 

The jumpy prisoner suddenly snatched a knife from his sleeve and was brandishing it in front of him with odd, erratic motions. He lifted his free hand to his head and started smacking himself in the face. “I’ve got to—got to get out. Got to get out!”

The raised voice drew The Beast’s attention.

“Calm yerself, man,” The Beast said. 

Belle tried to shift away from the guy who was tweaking out, but he snatched Belle’s arm and sliced it open with alarming speed. She didn’t even have time to cry out before a massive figure came between them. Suddenly, all she could see was The Beast’s broad back straining against the orange jumpsuit as he pounded his fist into the other prisoner’s face. 

Belle was too stunned to move, and it was Maddy who cried out for The Beast to stop. He dropped the man like touching him was scalding his own skin. Like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

By then, the jumpy prisoner’s face was bludgeoned and unrecognizable. He spit out a mouthful of blood, but despite the harsh treatment, he was back on his feet with renewed vigor. This time, he gnashed his teeth like he was going to take a bite out of Belle. The long-haired prisoner was the one who finally lifted his rifle and shot the man through the head.

The Beast stood there, chest heaving, and with blood dripping from his fists. And Belle realized, belatedly, that Gaston was by her side, holding her injured arm up so she didn’t pass out with the sudden blood loss.

The Beast spun around and fixed his eyes on Maddy.

“Lab coat,” he said, pointing at her. Then, he pointed to Belle. “Stitch that up.” 

Maddy blinked at him. He thought she was a doctor. She swallowed. “Just as soon as I take care of this.” She gestured down to the bullet hole in her thigh.

“Jesus, Maddy,” Belle said, and then she did pass out.

Gaston snatched Belle up like she weighed nothing and followed The Beast’s directions. As soon as they reached the main communications room, Maddy went in search of a first aid kit. Her hand shook, but she managed to thread the needle. She was about to start, but she felt a presence looming over her.

It took Maddy a moment to realize what The Beast was doing. Even though his eyes were on Maddy, she could feel the way he was trying not to look at Belle, who was lying unconscious across Gaston’s lap. This prisoner was…worried about her?

Maddy shook her head. This guy was only interested in keeping the hostages alive. Without a word, she grabbed some gauze and iodine and handed it to him. “For your knuckles,” she said, pointing to his bloody hands. Some of it was his own, from the way the force of his punches had split his own skin open.

He said nothing but just narrowed his eyes at her and stalked off.

In the back of her mind, she realized The Beast was talking. But his tone had changed. It was softer, but no less commanding. He was addressing the other ship that floated near MS One, the Lower Orbit Police Station. Maddy glanced back once, and she recognized the man in front with the dyed-black hair and goatee. Claude Frollo, head of the Secret Service (which was a crucial branch of the IBI). She only vaguely recalled seeing the other man’s face, the one with umber skin and glasses. The word CIA popped into her mind. But IBI and CIA historically did not play nice together.

Then, there was a much shorter figure. He was seated—no, he wasn’t sitting down. That was just how tall he was. She blinked in surprise and was momentarily distracted from the task at hand. His dark, curly brown head stopped just shy of the CIA guy’s chest. He had wide-set eyes, but the one on the left was a bit sunken in, like he’d sustained an injury. There was a scar beneath that eye as well. 

Who the hell was this guy? He certainly looked like he meant business, with all the gear strapped to his body. And she might have been crazy, but it seemed like he was staring right back at Maddy, too.

—

That was exactly what Snow was doing. The moment The Beast (aka Michael Jecks) had started the transmission, Snow immediately assessed the situation. He had been trained to take stock of a room in under 5 seconds.

In front of the camera sat the man in charge, The Beast himself. Aside from a scar on his cheek and an imposing figure, he didn’t seem all that threatening to Snow. In fact, he seemed more desperate than anything.

Then, behind him on the floor, Snow saw a tall woman bent over, her hands bloodied and shaking as she passed a needle and surgical thread through another woman’s arm. Snow wasn’t even listening to what this Beast guy had to say. His eyes were fixated on the young woman with the dyed-blonde hair that was falling out of a bun at the nape of her neck. She had pearl earrings and was…well, hot. There was no way around it. She had a shapely figure beneath a white lab coat. He didn’t know why she was wearing it, or why she was patching up a brunette with a deep cut in her arm, but Clopin confirmed Snow’s suspicions the moment the Beast decided he was done. He kept the transmission short, sweet, and to the point.

And Snow had begrudging respect for this guy because of it.

“I want a negotiator sent over,” The Beast said.

“I’m Claude Frollo from the Secret Service, and I’m in charge here.”

The Beast smirked. “That’s where you’re very much mistaken.”

With that, the transmission ended.

Clopin sighed and removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Maddy is still alive. And so is her assistant, Belle.”

“That hunk of beef behind her has to be the bodyguard. Gus, was it? No, Gaston,” Snow added.

Frollo frowned and nodded his head. Snow could be a snide asshole sometimes, but at least he paid attention.

Snow perched himself on the edge of a chair and waited for these two goons to figure out whether or not they were going to use him. He pretended as if this entire thing was an inconvenience rather than a life-or-death situation. Not to mention the life of the President’s very attractive daughter. 

“Let me know when you’ve picked up on it,” he said with a careless shrug.

“When I want your opinion, I’m gonna give it to you,” Frollo snapped.

Snow held up his hands in mock surrender. He stood up and walked around aimlessly, looking around people at their screens, occasionally asking questions which they were more than happy to answer. He was such an unusual figure that they didn’t really question his authority. Not with the amount of weapons he had on his small body. Though, his likability shone through in his laid back nature.

“Picked up on what?” Frollo said at last.

Snow shook his head. These Bureau goons were so predictable. “Oh, nothing. Just that they don’t know they have the President’s daughter. That’s all.”

Frollo let out a growl of frustration. He hated Snow’s matter-of-fact delivery, especially when he held all the cards at the moment and knew it. “How do you figure that?”

“You think they might have said something. And she was playing doctor, so…” he shrugged again. 

The feed cut back in, and someone was holding the camera. A wiry man with gold-capped teeth. “We got a little demonstration for ya,” he said, giggling like a schoolboy. 

One of the workers held up the directory again. Snow saw the words “The Fool” beneath the man’s picture. Well, the name certainly fit this character, whoever he was.

The camera shook, but it showed several prisoners who had changed out of their orange jump suits and were wearing MS One security officer uniforms. Two of them were carrying a limp figure between them.

“Shit, that’s Hugo,” Clopin said.

The Fool poked at Hugo’s battered nose, causing the man to cry out in pain. And then, he stepped back while the two other men shoved Hugo into the airlock.

“Wait!” Hugo cried. “Wait, I can help you!”

The Fool giggled again and mimed blowing kisses at the man. “You’re gonna need the help, boyo. It’s a bit chilly out there tonight.” He slammed his fist against a button, and the door slid shut in front of Hugo, who was still babbling.

“Stop, let me tell you—about the girl!”

“What the hell are you doing?” A booming voice cut into the audio.

The Fool’s grasp on the camera slipped, and it fell to the floor. The Beast had stormed in there, his eyes full of fury. For the first time, he looked like he was living up to his reputation. He looked pissed. His fists were already curled at his sides, and Snow could see the way the muscles in his arms bulged. 

The camera was picked up again.

“Don’t,” The Beast warned, all while Hugo begged for his life on the other side of the door.

“I can tell you about the girl—she’s the President’s—”

The door to the airlock opened, and Hugo’s words died in his throat, just like he did seconds later as his body seized and froze in three seconds flat.

“Oops,” The Fool said with another giggle.

The Beast growled low in his throat and stormed towards the smaller man. “He was gonna tell us something.” Then, the feed cut out again.

Snow grunted. “Seems our fearless leader doesn’t have as much control as he thought. Too many loose cannons.”

“Get a negotiator prepped and ready,” Frollo said.

Clopin turned and gave him an incredulous look. “Tell me you aren’t thinking about negotiating with these psychos.”

“Things are escalating. They’re just going to keep killing people, and it’ll be all over the news in 6 hours. They’ll know who she is by then.”

“And what if they ask for their freedom in return?”

“We aren’t actually going to give it to them,” Frollo said. “We just have to…dangle the carrot a bit.” He sighed at Clopin’s dissatisfied expression. “You can still send your boy in if you want. I’ve got other plans.” Frollo stormed off.

Snow walked up to Clopin, his thumbs tucked into his bullet proof vest. “I’m happy not to go.”

“You’re going.”

“Okay.”

Well, that was that. At least he had tried.

Soon enough, Snow was in his suit and stepping into the airlock. The door to the shuttle hissed shut, and then he felt a sudden pressure change as he was thrown out into the vacuum of space. All that kept him from floating off was the tether around his waist. He caught his bearings as he used his booster pack to stop the spinning, and then he found himself staring down at Earth.

Oh, fuck. He hated heights. 

“You alright, Snow?” Clopin’s voice came through on the headset.

“Peachy keen,” Snow said with his usual sarcasm.

It took a ridiculously long time to reach his target. But he didn’t take a full breath until his gloved hand touched the side of the MS One station. He saw a few defense guns mounted to the sides of the ship, but he guessed he was a small enough target to go unnoticed. Just a bit of debris floating through space, and not a defense weapon in the shape of a small, highly trained man. 

—

Everyone on board the MS One heard and saw the commotion. The live feed had played out on the screens, and Maddy felt a fresh sting of anxiety when Hugo almost got the words out, just before he was killed.

“I need a moment alone with The Beast,” Belle said.

“You’re out of your mind—are you fucking nuts?” Gaston and Maddy spoke at the same time, their words jumbling up together.

Belle just sighed and pushed herself off of Gaston’s lap. She swayed a little and she was incredibly pale, but there was a familiar determined look in her eyes. “He’s losing control. The Fool is a loose cannon, and it’s only a matter of time before he tries to kill another hostage. Before they figure out who you are, Maddy. I just need to create a distraction so you can get away.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to go?” Maddy whispered. Her leg throbbed terribly, and she was certain she had lost just as much blood as Belle. Possibly more. She wasn’t exactly ready to make a run for it.

“I heard the officers talking about a safe room, two levels down,” Gaston added.

“I’m not leaving you. I’m not leaving any of the hostages behind,” Maddy protested, but Belle wasn’t listening, and neither was Gaston.

“Good. I have no doubt The Fool will do something else stupid. When you get a chance, pick a fight with him, Gaston, and then use the distraction to get away.” Belle watched as The Beast returned to the comms room, with The Fool in tow. He was basically dragging the smaller man by the collar of his jumpsuit. 

Maddy saw a certain gleam fill her friend’s eyes as she stared at the larger man. “Belle, what are you going to do?”

But Belle ignored the question and just turned to face her with a familiar determined glint in her dark eyes. “Listen, we all knew there was only going to be one hostage exchanged. Just one. Just you.” She bent forward and pulled Maddy into a tight hug. Then, she addressed Gaston. “You get her out of here, and you keep her safe no matter what. You understand?”

Gaston nodded his head. And he couldn’t resist putting a hand against the side of her face.

Belle huffed out a sigh and bent forward to kiss him hard on the mouth. He didn’t have a chance to react before she was up on her feet and walking towards the commotion.

“God, I love that woman,” Gaston breathed. His lips still burned with the lingering feeling of that kiss.

Maddy gave him a sympathetic look. She knew for a fact that Belle’s kiss was meant to seal a promise. It wasn’t a declaration of her own feelings. But if it motivated Gaston to act as courageously as possible, Maddy didn’t mind if Belle toyed with his heart a little. 

Poor guy, she couldn’t help thinking. There was a painful lovesick look on his face.

Belle was unphased by The Beast’s harsh treatment of The Fool. And so was The Fool, even though the larger man had him pinned to the floor with one boot against his back.

“What did I say about our poker chips, eh?” The larger man shouted. But instead of being repentant, The Fool just grinned up at Belle’s approaching figure.

She didn’t bother addressing him and just waited for The Beast to look at her. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”

“Oh, making demands. Alone time,” The Fool cackled.

The Beast shoved his foot against the other man so he was too out of breath to offer any more snide remarks. Then, he turned to the long-haired prisoner and instructed him to keep an eye on the idiot who was causing them so much trouble.

With that, he grabbed one of the armed prisoners and told him to keep guard. Then, he guided Belle into the hall and towards a supply room. But once the door closed, her false bravado faded. She was alone with The Beast. 

But she had a limited window of time. She needed to take advantage of every second.

She was momentarily distracted when he reached out and grabbed something off a nearby shelf. A small carton of dehydrated orange juice. 

“Ye lost blood,” he said in his gruff voice. 

She blinked at him but said nothing as she snapped the seal on the chamber that contained the filtered water. She shook the carton until it was fully mixed and took a sip. He was right. The sugary drink was necessary to get her brain fully functioning again. A bit of the fuzziness and woozy feelings began to ebb away.

Just outside, they heard The Fool shouting again, taunting his beloved “Smiler” (Maddy).

“Why haven’t you killed that guy yet?” She said, making a vague gesture towards the commotion.

He breathed out a long sigh. “Because he’s my brother.”

The orange juice was really working, because her mind suddenly clicked back into action. “Wait, you’re—Jekyll and Hyde. Michael Jecks and David Hyde.” Then, she suddenly put a hand under his chin and turned his face towards the light. Oddly enough, he didn’t fight her. He was too startled by the unexpected touch. She noticed his body stiffened, though. Coiled like a cat preparing to pounce.

“That’s funny,” she said, peering at him with a clinical sort of look on her face.

“What?” His voice was a bit shaky. Had it really been so long since he was last touched that the feeling of her finger on his chin was enough to rattle him? He needed to get a fucking grip.

“All the documents I read talked about Michael’s hazel eyes. But his twin brother Adam’s were—”

“How do you know all this?” He moved half a step back, forcing some much-needed space between them. 

But she just moved closer, lifting another finger to trace the side of his face. “Furthermore, this scar doesn’t look like it’s 30 years old. Like the barbed wire fence that cut Michael’s face as a child. It looks less than 10 years old. Just long enough for you to take your brother’s place.”

His arm moved before he fully processed what was happening. Suddenly, Belle found herself pressed up against the wall. The proximity should have been terrifying, but…it wasn’t.

“Michael was convicted of 15 counts of first degree murder,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. Their faces were so close that he could feel her breath against his cheek. “And 5 counts of rape. You saved my life. And other than right now, you haven’t really—touched me. I saw the look on your face when that man was shot. You’re not a killer.”

He leaned forward, putting a bit more pressure on her. But it wasn’t a tactical move. It was like he couldn’t help this draw he felt towards her, despite his mind screaming that she had ulterior motives. He shook his head. “How do you know all this information?”

“Because I’m the President’s daughter. And you’re Adam.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed. He watched the way her cheeks were flushed for the first time since losing a lot of blood. It was an encouraging sign, but it also…it was doing things to him. Her closeness, the bare skin of his arm pressed against her collarbone. Her breath quickening as her pulse kicked up speed. Was she—aroused by this? Or was this just a game to her?

“You’re messed up in the head, eh?” He said in a teasing tone, though his eyes hadn’t lost the hard, piercing look as he gazed at her. 

She breathed out a shaky sigh. “Very much so.” 

She felt the way he moved back, relieving some of the pressure on her body. He was giving her the option to move away if she wanted to. But she very much did not want to do that.

Her eyes held his. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’ll negotiate the release of one hostage—an injured woman always looks best. I suggest the blonde in the lab coat.”

“Not sure you’re in the best…position to make orders, lass.”

“On the contrary,” she said, lifting a hand and running it across his clothed stomach. She let her fingers flex against the waistband of the jumpsuit. She was absolutely positive that he had an erection beneath it. The power she felt in that moment was intoxicating. And it sent a small thrill of guilty pleasure into the pit of her stomach. She was using him, after all. Keeping him distracted. It didn’t really mean anything.

But when he shuddered and closed his eyes, she felt something else in her chest—a reluctant warmth. Perhaps even a bloom of affection.

Jesus, she really was messed up in the head.

“You need a really important poker chip to negotiate your freedom,” she said, leaning her head forward so that her lips were just a breath away from his own. His eyes opened, and she was momentarily lost for words with the force of that gaze. “You need me.”

“Aye.” It was one, single word. Barely any voice behind it—breathy, almost a moan.

Belle didn’t know who moved first. But suddenly, they were kissing each other with a fierceness that sent a shock of want to the pit of her belly. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. She was surrounded by him as his hands coasted across her back, her ass, and tangled into her hair that he yanked free of its ponytail. 

He breathed out a soft exhalation, a string of words she didn’t understand. Something in his mother tongue.

And speaking of his tongue—he was suddenly invading her mouth, their tongues mingling together in a dance as if they did this sort of thing all the time. As if this wasn’t a positively fucked up situation, in which Belle fully intended to sacrifice herself and all the prisoners, just to save the real poker chip.

She suddenly broke away in a gasp. The guilt was eating away at her, stealing all the pleasure from her body like she was doused in ice water. But his lips moved to her cheek and down her neck, and she was groaning again. She was lost in a haze for a few more seconds, and then—

“Stop.”

With that single word, he stepped back so quickly that she stumbled forward, her head colliding with his chin. When she looked up at him…God, it was a terrible feeling of loss. It only confirmed her suspicions that he was Adam. The innocent twin brother who had somehow taken Michael’s place on this doomed space-prison-experiment.

“Adam,” she said softly.

His bright blue eyes looked at her in that probing way, like he was trying to read her thoughts. “Aye,” he finally said.

Holy hell. That really clinched it for her. The truth…

Belle opened her mouth to confess, and then they heard raised voices. The negotiator had arrived.

He took hold of her arm and guided her towards the door. He didn’t grip her as firmly as he had before. It was like he was afraid of breaking her this time. Internally, she felt like she was torn in half. 

Chapter Text

Snow quietly worked his way along the bottom of the ship. Or maybe this was the top. He had completely lost his bearings, since the entire thing was spinning slowly as it orbited the planet. 

Don’t think about how far you’d fall. Don’t think about the fact that you don’t have a tether anymore.

Well, shit. Now that was all he could think about.

He had a horrible moment of clarity when Planet Earth came into view. He shut his eyes against the sight. Snow didn’t usually give himself room for such self reflection, mostly because it stirred up a whole host of emotions he wasn’t ready to deal with. The stuff he kept hidden beneath a facade of sarcasm and dry humor. Self-protection, or more like self-preservation, after a lifetime of being teased for his appearance. It wasn’t like he had any control over it. 

He did have control over his breathing. He was only vaguely aware of the commotion on the other end of the headset. There was the low rumble of The Beast’s voice and some back and forth between unfamiliar voices.

After that, things descended into some chaos. Snow didn’t really need to know the nitty-gritty details. He had been tasked with a job, and dammit, he was going to give it his all. Well…realistically, he’d half-ass it and hope for the best.

“You’ve been spotted,” Clopin said, his voice tight with tension. “The negotiator is dead, and Maddy’s on the move. Get inside now.”

Snow did his best to absorb all of this information, but he was a little busy trying not to lose his grip, run out of oxygen, and/or die. He punched in the appropriate code, and the hatch opened. He pulled himself inside and was gratified when the artificial gravity kicked in. He had a brief panicked moment when he wasn’t sure he could remove the suit. His hands were clumsy and fumbling with the zipper. And in a frenzy, he slipped his hand into the body of the suit and snatched a knife from his belt. In one quick, efficient movement, he sliced his way out.

Then, once his brain was a little less scrambled and he was breathing the recycled air inside MS One, he realized it probably wasn’t the smartest move to destroy the space suit. Hopefully he didn’t need it to still use the escape pod.

More gunshots and screams on the headset.

“Get ready for a scuffle,” Clopin warned.

Snow heard the approaching footsteps on the other side of the doorway. He gripped the rim of the window and pulled himself up high enough to peer into the hallway beyond. Two massive prisoners in orange jumpsuits stood there, with their military-grade guns drawn and pointed at the airlock door.

A scuffle. More like hand-to-hand combat with some psychotic prisoners.

“She’s headed your way. She’ll be there in 15 seconds,” Clopin continued. “It would be great if those guys weren’t there to get in the way.”

So, he had 15 seconds to get these guys “out of the way.” He glanced around and caught sight of something on the floor. Once he was ready, he kicked the door open and greeted the two men with his hands raised. 

“Chill out, guys!” Snow shouted, pointing at the far-too-big jumpsuit on his body. “I’m one of you.”

One of the men lowered his gun and narrowed his eyes. “What the hell were you doing off the ship?”

“Some new form of solitary confinement,” he explained with a shrug. “I guess they’re getting a little more creative these days, huh?” When the guy closest to him still didn’t look convinced, Snow pointed to his own eye. “Got the scar to prove it, man. Just one of the guys.”

“Ah, shit,” the other man said. “There’s no way he’s with the feds. You think they’d send such a little thing in here?”

Snow did his best to keep his expression bland. But the words cut him to the quick, like they always did. 

The skeptical one didn’t lower his gun, but he just gestured to Snow with his chin. “You alone?”

“Just little old me,” Snow said with an ironic smile. “Guess my guard got tired of waiting.”

“Cool,” the first guy said, shouldering his pulse rifle and encouraging the other one to do the same. 

And so Snow waited until he had the perfect opportunity. The man in front of him was extremely muscular. He supposed when (and if) these prisoners were granted free time, they probably used the time to work on their physique. Snow was no match for him, or either of their weapons at the moment. Not without drawing more unnecessary attention to himself. 

And so, he grabbed the first thing he could think of. The explosive necklace. He used his knife to slice the closest guy’s Achilles heel, sending him to one knee in a scream of pain. Then, Snow wrapped the rope around the man’s neck and touched the ends together. He quickly snatched the rifle from the guy’s hands and fired at the other prisoner, killing him instantly with a shot to the head.

He ran a short distance away, just as the explosive device went off. 

This just so happened to be the same moment when Gaston and Maddy raced around the corner. She lost her footing in her surprise as a man’s head exploded off of his shoulders, spraying everything in a 6 foot radius with brain matter.

“Shit. Sorry!” Snow said, making his presence known.

Maddy glanced down at him, but her eyes were wide with terror. She was still in fight-or-flight mode, just a few short strides away from their goal—the safe room. She didn’t even really look at the guy. She just saw orange and panicked. And so, she picked up the fire extinguisher in her hand and slammed it down on the guy’s forehead.

“Ow!” He cried out, more annoyed than anything (because he was). “That hurt!”

Maddy didn’t even have a moment to consider this strange response before Gaston had picked her up and carried her the rest of the way into the safe room. The door closed behind them, and Gaston fired a shot at the control panel, just to make sure no one could get in. Not without his say-so.

“Snow? Talk to me,” Clopin said in his earpiece.

“Your little wildcat just smacked me in the face with a fire extinguisher. She and Muscles are in the safe room.”

There was silence on the other end.

“So…my job here is done?” Snow said. “Hello?”

“Not exactly. We need you to take out The Fool. He’s made himself the new leader, and it’s not pretty.”

Snow took a deep breath. His forehead was throbbing. He had to give this Madellaine Sarousch character some props. She wasn’t the type to stop and ask questions. She saw the jumpsuit and didn’t even hesitate.

Snow brushed himself off and removed the baggy jumpsuit. It was only going to slow him down. Besides, it was covered in blood and brains. He was just staring down at the schematic map on his upper arm and had taken exactly one step in the direction he was supposed to go, when—

“Wait,” Clopin said. “Something’s not right. Maddy’s losing oxygen. Nitrogen levels are off the charts. Need you to get into that safe room.”

Snow grunted in annoyance. “Make up your mind.” But he walked over to the locked door. He tried a few buttons on the panel, but it just shrieked at him in a tinny, robotic voice: “Critical error.”

And he knew by one glance that this place was impenetrable, because it was designed to be so. He frowned. What a waste. Maddy was quite pretty.

“Gonna have to go through the back door,” Frollo said, chiming in for the first time in a while.

Shit. Of course, there was always a back door. But it proved to be way more difficult than Snow was prepared for. 

After avoiding an angry pack of prisoners (with The Fool at the front, his eyes wild and teeth gnashing in his eagerness to get to Maddy), Snow crawled through the conveniently large air vents. Next, he had to contend with some insane air tunnel thing that almost sliced him to bits when MS One’s power source was briefly disconnected. But it had turned on just in the nick of time. Snow had the best (or worst) luck.

Somehow, a skinny prisoner had followed him through the air vents, so Snow had to contend with the idiot trying to shoot his weapon into an air tunnel. Still, the bullet grazed his neck. He was damn lucky it hadn’t nicked an artery. It was just an annoying flesh wound.

And after all of that, he came to the sad conclusion that the explosive he’d used on the bulky prisoner would have come in mighty handy when trying to break into a safe room.

“Gonna have to improvise,” Frollo said, unhelpfully.

“Can we get this asshole off the feed, please?” Snow retorted. He wanted to offer another smart remark about how this whole damn operation felt like an improvisation exercise. A demented practice of “yes, and,” where Snow was the all-important punch-line.

“She’s losing oxygen fast. Less than a minute at best,” Clopin said in a tense voice.

Snow heard the unmistakable pop of a gunshot in the safe room below. He snatched a small device from his weapon clip—something he’d grabbed at the last second. A mini welding torch. He switched it on and ignored the fact that it was most definitely going to burn his hands.

“She found some more oxygen,” Clopin was saying. “But she’s still got 1 minute until brain death.”

Snow felt a surge of frustration as someone in the background began to count down the seconds. He was working as fast as he could. He created enough of a gap that when he slammed his feet against the panel, it broke—taking Snow down with it.

He hit the floor below with a gasp, the breath fully knocked out of him for a few precious seconds. Then, he was assessing the situation, just like he was trained to do. “Bodyguard is dead. Self-inflicted gunshot.”

“That explains the extra oxygen,” Clopin said in a grim tone.

His eyes wandered over to Maddy’s unconscious body. She was slumped over, gasping fitfully and choking on some of her own hair that had fallen across her face. “Hot girl is on the floor with a bullet hole in her leg.”

Someone was still doing a countdown. “40…39…38…”

“That’s really not fucking helpful,” he said as he pulled the first aid pack from his belt. 

Still, the countdown persisted. His hands shook a little as he followed Clopin’s instructions to the letter. He prepped the defibrillator device and placed the pads on her chest. After sending an electric shock into her system, one of the voices on the end of the headset announced that there was an induced pulse.

“20…19…18…”

“So, why is there still counting?”

“Not done yet.” The unfamiliar voice then talked Snow through the next part of the procedure, which involved sticking a needle through her eye.

Oh, God. He wasn’t squeamish, but this was asking just a little fucking much of him.

Still, he pressed on. The countdown was getting really irritating, mostly because he knew how little time he had. Single digit seconds.

He fought every urge he had to turn and run, and he did what he was told. He inserted the needle into her eye and waited. The countdown stopped, and the device let out a little chirp. The neurotransmitter stimulant did its job because soon, she started shaking violently.

“She needs air,” Clopin said.

Well, that only meant one thing. “Mouth-to-mouth?” Snow asked.

“Yep.”

Shit.

Snow bent over Maddy’s body and gripped the sides of her face. Then, he put his lips over hers, blowing air into her mouth at regular intervals.

And even though this was a life-or-death situation, he recognized what a privilege it was to even be able to touch her. She was the President’s daughter, for Christ’s sake. And she was beautiful.

“Come on,” he urged. After all of this effort he’d put forth just to get to her, it’d be such a waste to lose her.

Her body shook. She gasped. Her eyes blinked open, and he watched as a frown formed between her eyebrows. 

“Hi,” he said, a little lamely, as his hand rested on her cheek.

Then, she punched him in the face.

—

Belle was escorted to the main room, where she heard the sounds of the other prisoners arguing amongst themselves. A small shuttle had docked, and the negotiator was on his way. 

She stopped and gestured towards where Maddy was seated on the floor and picking at the bandage on her injured leg. That one, she said with her gaze.

The Beast met her gaze and gave her a curt little nod. Message received. 

Belle had to give the Secret Service, the IBI, and maybe even the CIA credit for sending this guy. He acted cool as a cucumber, despite the unpredictable men with guns that surrounded him on all sides. He fiddled with his glasses, and this was a dead giveaway to Belle that the guy was bugged with a camera. It was his job to “assess the threat and report back.”

The Beast made his demands. One hostage’s life in return for the prisoners’ freedom. He gestured to where Maddy was seated on the floor. 

The negotiator smirked. This was going better than he had hoped. “Yes, an injured woman always shows that you’re a man of good faith. Compassionate.”

Belle wanted to roll her eyes. This bureau guy was laying it on just a little too thick.

Gaston was visibly tense, but he helped Maddy to her feet. And he refused to let any of the prisoners touch her as he walked her towards the negotiator. 

But that was when things went south quickly.

“Not her!” The Fool cried. “She’s promised to me. She’s promised to me!”

“Keep quiet,” The Beast’s voice boomed in the corridor. “Give them the one woman. We’ve got bargaining chips of our own.” He took hold of Belle’s upper arm.

The negotiator looked a little confused, but Belle just shook her head at him, so small that no one else noticed. Or so she thought.

Maddy caught sight of it, and she immediately spun around. “No, don’t you dare—” she demanded, gazing directly at Belle.

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay,” Belle insisted.

“She’s lying!” Maddy insisted. “She’s not—”

“Time to go, Miss,” the negotiator said, all but shoving her towards the door. Gaston was right behind Maddy, creating a wall of muscle that she couldn't possibly get past. 

“Stop,” the Beast said, lifting his gun and leveling it at the negotiator, who froze and raised his hands in surrender. Maddy was glaring at Belle, and Gaston still hadn’t moved aside to let her pass. Adam turned his piercing gaze to the negotiator and gently pushed Belle forward. “Who is this woman?”

The man blinked behind his glasses. Belle saw the sheen of sweat. He needed to say the right thing, or else—

“She’s the president’s daughter.”

And that had been the wrong thing to say. Because at that precise moment, one of the prisoners caught sight of a figure climbing across the side of MS One. The Beast quickly sent a few men to deal with it. But he was left with a sinking feeling in his gut. He realized that all of his careful planning wasn’t exactly paying off how he expected. Nor had he the least suspicion that Belle was playing him. 

He wasn’t equipped for this. Not like his criminally-minded younger brother.

“Bullshit!” The Fool cried with a laugh. “This was all a setup. He’s lying.”

Belle had to give the idiot credit. He wasn’t as dumb as he looked.

The Fool stepped forward and approached the sweating, shaking negotiator. “Why go to so much trouble to get my Smiler off the ship, hmm? My Maddy. It has to be her. Doesn’t it?”

He pointed to the startled look on the negotiator’s face and the way Gaston had caged Maddy in the protective circle of his arms. It was more than enough to confirm their suspicions. Belle suddenly couldn’t bear to look at The Beast. She knew she would see the betrayal plain as day in his eyes.

The Fool clapped his hands triumphantly. “No, it’s always been Maddy. Why do you think I wanted to sully her? I knew she was special. Pure as whitest snow—”

“Shut up!” Adam cried. He was losing control of the situation quickly. He just needed a moment to regroup…to think…

If he held Maddy captive instead, then—

But the highly trained, professional negotiator was the first to crack under the pressure. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—I didn’t know—we could still make a deal!”

The Fool laughed, and before anyone could stop him, he snatched a gun from his nearest fellow prisoner and fired a few rounds at the negotiator, ending his life in seconds. The other hostages cried out in fear and alarm. A voice shouted over the comms, demanding to know what was going on. 

And amidst the chaos, The Fool spun back around to his brother. “And you wanted to send our best poker chip off. You were played, brother. Played by this one.” He took a step forward and pressed the end of the rifle directly into Belle’s chest. ”Your reign is over, Michael.” He said the name with the widest grin possible. It was an accusation. A confirmation of what Belle knew to be the truth. 

But before The Fool could pull the trigger, Adam gripped the end of the weapon and turned it towards his own body.

Belle felt a searing pain in her upper arm, and she heard Adam sink to the floor next to her.

True panic broke out, then—even among the prisoners. The Fool was seemingly unphased by the fact that he had killed his own brother. He turned back around to find Maddy, only to discover she and Gaston had disappeared.

As for Belle, she gazed down at The Beast. No, he wasn’t really The Beast. He wasn’t Michael. He was Adam, the man who had taken his criminal brother’s place on this cursed ship. She stared down at the blood pooling on the front of his orange jumpsuit. And she came to a decision.

—

“We have to go back!” Maddy was saying, as Gaston guided her down the hall.

“That would be suicide,” he declared.

“What about Belle?” she retorted, turning to her bodyguard and watching as he winced.

“My duty has always been for your protection, Maddy. Yours.” With that, he pushed her into a waiting elevator. He was taking them to the safe room. 

They heard commotion just outside the doors, and as a last resort (since neither of them had any weapons), she smashed through the protective glass case in the elevator and picked up the fire extinguisher from inside. 

They reached the hallway, and Maddy and Gaston nearly fell backwards in shock and alarm when there was an explosion directly in front of them. Maddy’s ears rang, and she was suddenly spitting out—blood. Chunks of something. God, she was going to puke if she thought about it for too long.

“Shit, sorry!” A voice said nearby.

The safe room was just a handful of steps in front of them. She had no plans to stop and swap pleasantries with the man, who was wearing an orange jumpsuit just like the two other dead guys in the corridor. She didn’t hesitate. She just smacked the man in the head with the fire extinguisher. Gaston practically carried her inside the safe room. He had been smart to grab a pistol from one of the dead prisoners, but shooting the panel to keep intruders at bay had been a decidedly stupid thing to do.

Soon enough, they were running out of oxygen. And owing to his brilliant plan, they had no way of escaping the air-tight, impenetrable safe room. 

The doors closed, and Gaston fired at the panel on the wall, just to ensure no one would get inside.

But this ended up being a fatal mistake. In moments, she and Gaston were short of breath. 

“How long do we have?” She asked, gasping from her spot on the floor.

Gaston cursed under his breath as he sank to the floor near her. “Minutes. Maybe less.”

“Can’t get out?” She asked.

He shook his head. No, his dumbass self had already seen to it that no one was getting in or out.

Then, they heard voices on the other side. Loud shouts of a voice she knew all too well demanding to know why they couldn’t open the doors. Gaston had seen to that, but they were going to die long before The Fool and the others got to them. 

The new leader of the prisoners on MS One knew she was in there, and he was going to do his best to bust through the door. And once The Fool got his hands on her—if she didn’t die first—then, she knew her life would really be over. He would make sure to use her up until she was just a shell of her former self. He would brutalize every bit of humanity out of her, just for a bit of pleasure for himself. 

Maddy shivered. Her vision was beginning to blacken.

“I’m so sorry,” Gaston said, joining her on the floor. But he had his hand on the pistol. He was fiddling with it.

“Sorry?” Maddy rasped. And then, her eyes widened in horror when she realized what he was about to do. “No—no, Gaston!”

“Tell her for me,” he said. He lifted the gun to his temple, his finger on the trigger. “Tell her. And be happy.” 

BANG!

Maddy’s ears rang, and she couldn’t even cry out when Gaston’s limp body sank to the floor next to her. 

She was going to pass out. Or die. Maybe both. Her lungs burned, and she lost vision shortly after.

But she guessed, if it meant being spared The Fool’s torture, she’d happily accept death. Would she see Gaston on the other side? If her real parents had died years ago, like Sister Catarina had said, would she meet them, too?

And just when everything went black, just when she felt that her chest was no longer moving, her heart slowing down beat by beat…

She felt something on her face. 

“Come on.”

Her eyes blinked open. There was—a man leaning over her. Kissing her.

He sat up and met her gaze. His calloused hand was still on her cheek. “Hi.”

Maddy moved on instinct, and she slammed her fist into his face.

Chapter Text

He felt like he was floating. His eyes cracked open, and he blinked against the intermittent harsh lights that passed by. 

A soft voice was speaking over him. The beauty…the president’s daughter. No, she wasn’t. She had lied to him. But what in the hell was she still doing by his side? He thought he was dead.

“Med bay, med bay,” she was muttering to herself. “Why aren’t there any fucking maps anywhere—? Oh!” She turned and was gone from view for a moment. “Two lefts and a right.” 

Then, she reappeared, and the feeling like floating resumed. It wasn’t floating, it was—rolling. Adam was on a gurney.

She glanced down and caught his somewhat bleary-eyed scrutiny. “Don’t speak. Just stay awake. We’re almost there. Was it one left and two rights? Or…” She glanced around, and there was a panicked look on her face.

“Two lefts. One right,” he whispered.

“Shit. Okay.” She spun back around, and they were going the opposite direction. “Hey, I said not to speak,” she added after a quiet moment.

He ignored this, of course. “Who the hell are you, really?”

“I’m Belle. I’m Maddy’s assistant. And her best friend, but that’s neither here nor there.”

He breathed out a harsh breath. “That’s why you lied. To save her.”

She frowned. “I told you, there was only ever going to be one hostage returned. And I was going to make damn sure it was Maddy.” 

“Then, what the hell are you doin’ with me?” His accent was thicker now as his words began to slur together. God, his gut felt like it was on fire. His vision began to blacken around the edges. 

“We can talk about that after I try to save your life.” She pushed him into a room and began grabbing supplies from the cabinets and throwing them onto a rolling cart. She hit a button on the touch screen.

“Welcome to MedBay 3000. I’ll be your assistant, Eloise. How can I assist you today?” A tinny, feminine voice said through the speakers.

“Bullet wound in the stomach,” Belle said.

“I didn’t recognize that authorization code. If you are not an authorized user, you may continue as a guest. Keep in mind that some of my features may not be available—”

“Guest. I’m a fucking guest,” she said as she ripped the plastic packaging off of a syringe. She didn’t even warn him as she prepped it and jabbed it above the bullet wound in his stomach. He felt the medication burn as it entered his bloodstream. “Oh, crap. Do you have any allergies?” She asked Adam, a fresh look of panic on her face.

He gave her a wry smile and then a wince. “None.”

“Welcome, Guest,” the computer spoke again. “Thank you for administering local anesthetic. Scan will begin soon.”

Belle stepped back, but she fussed at Adam for squirming while the computer was trying to scan his injury. She followed the instructions to the letter, and soon enough, she was fixing an oxygen mask over his face. Or she was trying to.

“What’s the point?” He protested, gripping her wrist. 

“The point is that you were sent here on behalf of your brother. You’re innocent, and I’m getting you the fuck out of here before they blow up the ship.”

He couldn’t really argue with her anymore, not when the knock-out drug was blowing into his nostrils. He was out cold in moments. 

Belle stepped back. And then she realized that one of the “features” that wasn’t available to her as a guest was the auto-surgery bot. Well, shit. She’d have to do it herself. 

She prepped herself in the nearby sink and got to work. 

“This is insane. This is fucking insane,” she told herself, gazing down at Adam’s unconscious body and the gaping wound in his gut. 

All the while, the computer chimed out the instructions step by step. It was too late to turn back now.

—

Maddy stared at the man across from her. He was an unmistakable figure. Short but powerfully built, not to mention the scar beneath his other eye, which was slightly lower and smaller than the other. But her brain was so fuzzy. 

She wiped her mouth on the back of her aching fist, which had just collided with his jaw. She could still feel his mouth on hers. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Bringing you back from the dead,” he said, reaching up to cradle his face. She had a surprisingly strong right hook.

“So, I was dead, then,” she said, feeling like she was floating above her body for a few moments. And then her eyes fell on Gaston’s body nearby. 

“Yeah, and so far, I think I prefer you that way.” He gestured to the cut on his forehead with a sardonic look.

Oh, he was the man in the orange jumpsuit. The one she had hit over the head with a fire extinguisher. She just didn’t have the energy to feel badly about it. Not with her bodyguard a few feet away from her…

“Come on. That’s enough reminiscing,” he said brusquely, taking hold of her arm and pulling her to her feet. She saw something beneath that bland, sarcastic expression, though. Maybe a little bit of sympathy, when he saw the unshed tears in her eyes. He purposefully skirted the dead body on the floor, out of respect. 

Then, the full extent of her injuries (and almost dying) caught up with her. He asked for a boost, and she realized they were going to climb into a hole in the ceiling. She knelt down on her good leg and linked her hands together. He gave her a funny little smirk as he stepped into her hand and she helped hoist him up. 

“You’ve done this before, huh? Sneaking out of the White House bunker to get into trouble?”

She rolled her eyes and reached up to grab his hand. Then, he pulled her through the hole with surprising strength. They crawled along the air ducts. She was definitely delirious, because she found herself chuckling. 

He glanced back and gave her an inquisitive look. 

“Sorry. It’s just—why do they make them so big? It’s like asking for a heist movie or something.” She gestured around them to the air vents that were large enough that they could crawl practically side by side.

“I was just saying that earlier,” he said with an answering smirk. “Oh, before I forget…” He grabbed a small device from his impressive weapons cache and turned it on with a small button. Then, he tossed it through the hole into the safe room.

Then, just below them, they heard the door to the safe room bursting open and The Fool’s unmistakable shout. Maddy was urged into a frantic pace to keep up with the much shorter but surprisingly fast guy in front of her. And then, she gasped when an explosion burst through the hole in the air vent, followed by screaming and shouting from their would-be pursuers. She felt a hand on her arm, and she hadn’t realized she had stopped moving at all. But she was getting really dizzy.

“Status on Blondie,” the guy said into his headset. 

Maddy could hear an answering voice saying, “BP is dropping, Snow. With her heart pumping on overdrive, she’s losing blood rapidly from her injury.”

The guy (she realized he was called Snow) turned around and saw the way blood was slowly oozing from her bullet wound. “Shit. One more thing for the to-do list.” He just urged her to keep going.

Snow was relying on Clopin to guide him through the labyrinth of air ducts. Along the way, Snow set up a few more traps for anyone who might try to follow them. After they had been crawling for a few minutes, she heard another explosion behind them. This Snow guy was thinking ahead, and she appreciated it. She was really starting to lose strength quickly.

“Left,” Clopin said. “And then take the next right. But whatever you do, do not go—”

Static.

Well, fuck. It seemed The Fool wasn’t such an idiot after all. He had somehow managed to cut off communication.

“Uh—this way,” he said, pointing down the next corner.

“You sure?” Maddy replied. 

“Of course I’m sure.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

He ignored her retort for the moment. He really was just winging it at this point. Nothing had gone to plan for this entire operation, and he wouldn't be surprised if something else went horribly wrong. He paused at the next juncture. Alarm bells were going off in the back of his head, but he was having trouble figuring out why. He certainly had a lot of things keeping him distracted—the hot blonde behind him who was rapidly losing blood and he had no communication with the idiots who had sent him on this mission in the first place. 

“You don’t seem like you know where you’re going.”

Snow turned and glared at her. “You’re a lot of fun. You know that?”

“You don’t seem like much of a picnic, either.”

He raised one eyebrow. This woman wasn’t just a pretty face. She was smart as a whip, and strong, too. But she was definitely looking too pale. “I’ve got this, okay? I know where we’re going. Everything is going to be—”

Without warning, the duct gave way beneath them at that exact moment. The two of them fell a good 8 or 9 feet to the floor below. Snow landed on his back, and Maddy was lying perpendicularly across him, so he had a nice view of her ass. And even though this was hardly the right time, he enjoyed it for a moment. 

Maddy pushed herself up on her hands and knees and looked down at him, just in time to recognize he’d been checking her out. “Are you serious right now?” She said. She was half tempted to punch him again. Or find another fire extinguisher and really let him have it. But dammit, she was really dizzy.

He just gave her a shit-eating grin and picked himself up off the floor. “Alright. Up you get.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her into a rolling office chair. 

He stood between her legs and tried not to look at her. She was all disheveled and woozy, and she hadn’t looked prettier, in his opinion. In a different time and place, he wondered…

Then, he shook his head. She was so far out of his fucking league that it wasn’t even funny. The President’s daughter and a short guy nicknamed Quasimodo? Nah, it was a joke. 

He grabbed a med kit from his belt and got to work undoing the bandages on her leg. She reached down to offer her assistance, but he just smacked her hand away. Maddy watched as he grimaced at the sight of the bullet hole in her leg. She was curious about the scar on his face and the way one of his eyes was sunken in. Both of them looked dark brown—no, hazel in the overhead fluorescent lighting. Flecks of green floating in a coppery brown. He had a strong jaw. Full lips and a prominent nose. He was definitely striking.

“It’s called enophthalmos,” he said, gesturing to the smaller, sunken-in eye. “And dwarfism.” He gestured to his entire person.

She blinked. She guessed she was staring. Maybe he was used to that, but she didn’t feel the need to apologize. “I’m just trying to figure out who you are. And who sent you.”

“Your old man sent me.”

“Dad,” she said with a sigh. 

He glanced up at her face. There was a healthy mixture of affection and irritation in that single expression. Maddy was feeling it, too. She cared for her dad, but it wasn’t what she could call a loving relationship. Still, the fact that he had personally sent someone to rescue her was flattering.

“What did he say?”

“I didn’t get to meet the guy personally,” he said as he cut a small hole in her black leggings to get a better look at the injury. “He kind of delegated your rescue. He had a big conference on the corn surplus.”

“You’re kidding?” She asked. She genuinely couldn’t tell with this guy.

“No, apparently we should all be eating more corn.”

“About my father.”

“Oh, yeah. I made that other part up,” he said with a shrug. 

“Did he have a message for me?” She said, rapidly losing her patience with him.

“Yes. You are adopted.” He snapped the lid off of a bottle of iodine and lifted some gauze.

“Are you the only type of jerk they could get for this mission?” She snatched the bottle and the gauze and got to work cleaning the wound herself. 

“The only one stupid enough to say yes.”

She shook her head and got to work cleaning her skin. “So, what’s the plan? Surely you have one to rescue the hostages.”

“What hostages?”

“The staff on MS One? The guards? And what about my assistant, Belle?”

He was distracted prepping a syringe. She didn’t really care what was in it. She was more pissed off than anything, especially when he said, “I came here to rescue you. Mission accomplished.”

“We can’t just leave them here!”

“Leave who?” He said walking over to her again.

“The hosta—ow!” She gasped when he jabbed the needle into her leg, just above the wound. Was he pissing her off on purpose to keep her distracted? “That hurt,” she protested.

“Yeah, well, you hit me in the face twice today. I think I’m owed a little payback.” He pulled out the needle. “That’s to stop the bleeding. And hopefully, the talking.”

“Do you enjoy being this much of an ass, or is it a part-time gig?”

He turned away to hide his smirk as he pulled out another syringe. “We’re not rescuing any hostages. I’m here to do one—well, actually two things. And that’s the plan. End of story.”

“But—”

He tensed and shushed her. He looked like he was listening intently.

She did the same for a moment. “Did you hear something?” She whispered.

He shook his head with a sardonic look. “I was just enjoying the silence.”

Maddy’s lips pinched together. She really looked like she wanted to punch him again. He didn’t exactly blame her. He could be irritating at the best of times—and that was on purpose. 

“Listen, I appreciate that you’re a good person,” he explained as he walked back to her, standing between her legs again. “But we’re not staying behind to rescue anyone else. This is a VIP deal. Got it?”

“What I get is that you’re a—”

He jabbed her leg with another needle. His face was awfully close to hers, and she was too stunned to move. There was a slight burning sensation, and then…nothing. There was no pain around her bullet wound. “That will freeze the nerve for 24 hours,” he explained.

Then, before she could even muster up a smart retort, he turned and rifled through the room to see if he could find anything useful.

Maddy watched him quietly. She should be thanking him. He had saved her life a few times, after all. But what about the other innocent people on the ship? The ones who hadn’t asked to be under the rule of the prisoners—especially one as unstable as The Fool? And what about her best friend? She couldn’t stop thinking about where Belle was. Everything after the negotiator was killed was a bit of a blur. 

Besides, this Snow guy was an ass. “Is Snow your first name or last name?” She said, standing up from the office chair to look down at him. His head stopped right at her bust line. She wondered if he was overcompensating for his height with the whole egotistical-asshole routine.

His jaw flexed slightly. He didn’t realize she knew it. “It’s just Snow.”

“What, like Cher? Or Prince? Or—God, what was that really old show…Columbo?”

“I’m definitely Columbo,” he said, pointing to his impaired eye with a sarcastic grin. 

She snorted. “Or maybe you’re like Rumplestiltskin. The moment I learn your name, I get all your powers.”

“That’s not how the fairy tale goes.”

She let out a wry chuckle. “Ah, who cares? No one believes in fairy tales anymore, do they?”

His dark eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I guess not.”

They just looked at each other for a moment. Maddy was the one to clear her throat. “So, shouldn’t we…?”

“Yeah. What the hell, Maddy? Quit wasting our time,” he teased, as if he hadn’t been the distracted one. 

They made it into the hallway, and he was glad that there weren’t any psychos in orange jumpsuits waiting to take them out. He pulled the digital map from his upper arm and handed it to her. 

“Follow this map, and it’ll take you to the escape pod. You fly away, and the good guys will come and get you. Okay?”

She blinked down at him. “On my own?” Even though he was an asshole, she wasn’t fully prepared to handle this part of her escape alone. She was injured and unarmed. 

“You’re a big girl.” He pulled the rifle from his own back and snatched a white packet from his vest. It looked like dehydrated apple slices. “Here’s a gun and a snack. Don’t talk to strangers. Shoot them.”

She accepted the items and studied him closely. “This is the plan you agreed on with my father?” To Maddy, it felt like he was only doing half of the job. That “other thing” he mentioned didn’t seem like a sanctioned affair. He was up to something. 

He shrugged. “He said it’ll toughen you up. He says you need that. Head starboard, and then follow the green line.”

She felt a little bereft, if she was being honest. His overconfident air was kind of…comforting in a way. He was so direct and seemed to know exactly what to do. The thought of navigating the ship and getting to the escape pod on her own was kind of terrifying. 

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be—fine.” She cleared her throat and shouldered the weapon. “Where are you going?”

He caught the uncertainty in her gaze. She was putting on a brave face, but she was genuinely worried. “I’ve got a hot date,” he said, trying to play it off casually. He had his heart set on finding Zephyr. He needed that briefcase of secrets. It was his ticket to freedom. “Good luck with the leg,” he added.

Maddy nodded her head. “Well, it’s been fun.” Hell, she was doing the exact same thing as Snow—playing it cool. But she was a lot less convincing. 

He smirked and gave her a mock salute before he walked in the opposite direction. 

Maddy, meanwhile, was trying to make sense of the digital map. Green line? The whole thing was green. Shit. 

Snow paused and glanced back in time to watch Maddy disappear down the right corridor. He sighed and waited. She reappeared, turning the map upside down in her hand and wandered towards the left. 

“You’re doing great,” he said with a goofy thumbs-up.

She spun around and started to go back the way she came. Then realized her mistake and turned around a second time. God, it was strangely humiliating. She was about to ask him to just tell her which way to go when a voice came over the loudspeaker. It was The Fool, who was leering at the camera.

“Gentlemen, fellow prisoners, comrades,” he said, grinning widely so that the light glinted off his gold-capped teeth. “Our meal ticket has run off, and we need her back. Madellaine Sarousch—my smiler—just so happens to be the President’s daughter.” He held up Maddy’s ID tag to the camera. “She’s going to try and leave the station. And if she does, all hope of negotiating a release go bye-bye. Find her, lads. Bring her to me.”

Well, not only were The Fool’s 15 to 20 crones after her, now he had put a target on her back, sending the other 400 prisoners after her like bloodhounds chasing a scent. This was a smart strategy on his part, but it meant Snow’s little plan to divide and conquer wasn’t going to work. It was like sending Little Red Riding Hood off into the woods with a pack of hungry wolves waiting to eat her up.

He sighed and dropped his head. He pretended like this was a great inconvenience, but secretly, he was glad not to lose sight of her.  “Alright. You can tag along with me, but just…don’t talk too much.”

She stomped over to him and didn’t have to hide her annoyance. The Fool had really made a huge mess of things. Not to mention his unhealthy obsession with her. She fought back a shiver when she considered what might have happened if the announcement had been made when she was hopelessly lost, on her way to the escape pod. 

Still, she angrily threw the map at Snow and was gratified by his annoyed grunt. 

“This thing is a piece of cake to read. I don’t know what your problem was,” he said in a dry tone. “This way.” He pointed down a different corridor. 

She stormed off in that direction, only to glance back and realize he had taken a sharp right turn without telling her. He had done that on purpose, dammit.

He brought them to a supply room that was filled with spare weapons and uniforms. While he rummaged around, they were gifted with another ship-wide message from The Fool.

“Smiler. Where are you, sweetheart? I miss ya,” he said, leaning close to the camera and making kissy faces. 

She scowled but couldn’t help her curiosity regarding the rectangular scar on his cheek, the one he had affectionately called a “love bite.”

“Why do they do that? The marking on the face.”

Snow glanced up. “The other prisoners do it. It lets everyone know you’re a rat.” He tossed an orange jumpsuit on the table in front of her. 

She immediately shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“You can’t walk past 500 whack-jobs looking like a hot chick.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “So, this is part of your brilliant plan. Thank you for clueing me in.”

He just gave her his usual shit-eating grin (which was a cheeky look for him) and busied himself with something in the corner while she pulled the suit over her leggings and black camisole.

She walked back over in time to see him mixing up a foul concoction in a glass beaker. “What the heck is that?”

“Engine oil, coffee grounds, and some water from the toilet.”

She crossed her arms. “What do you plan to do with it?” Then, she saw the way his eyes went to her hair. “Oh, no. Hell no. I’m not playing witness protection with some toilet water potion!”

He took a few steps closer. “Come on. It’ll be fun.” He lifted some scissors in his other hand.

“Not on your life!”

He surprised her by gripping her arm and spinning her around so she was pinned up against the table. She lifted her leg automatically and tried to kick him in the crotch, but he shifted his body to the side. 

He just tightened his grip on her arm. He was short, but damn, he was strong. “Come on. Easy way or hard way, Maddy.”

“Jesus. Fine!”

He released her, and she spun back around to kick him in the crotch for real this time. He doubled over and almost dropped the foul-smelling concoction. “I deserved that,” he conceded, with a groan of pain. “You feel better now?”

She just took a seat in a nearby chair and huffed out a sigh. “Not really. Just promise you won’t make me look hideous?” It felt like a stupid thing to be worried about. But she had worked hard to get her hair to this length.

“Just sit there and try not to hit me anymore. Okay?” He said as he stood in front of her and started chopping her hair off in chunks. He shook his head. “I have to make you look ugly. And that’s going to be a hard enough task since you’re so pretty.”

Maddy’s eyes narrowed as she regarded him. Her irises were such a dark brown that they almost looked black. But she had a fire in those eyes, a warmth that he had seen on a rare occasion—perhaps in that brief moment when she had first awoken from death, looking up at him from the floor. Just after he had given her mouth-to-mouth. 

She was staring at him. She didn’t have much else to look at in the sterile storage room. And he was the most interesting thing in it, by far. “You know, you don’t have to overcompensate quite so much,” she said out of the blue.

“What the fuck?” He said, lowering the scissors to give her a dumbfounded look. 

She shrugged in a matter-of-fact way. “Just saying. There’s such a thing as being a ‘short king.’ You’ve got a lot going for you. You know, besides being such a massive dickhead.”

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at her. He was convinced she was just toying with him. He’d heard that sort of psycho-babble before, and it never worked. “Would you just—shut up and let me finish this? Please?”

She smirked. She had successfully thrown him off-guard with that statement. He hadn’t even been able to offer a smart-ass retort. He had even used the word “please.” 

Point one for Maddy. 

Though, she watched a deep frown crease his slightly prominent brow, and she had to wonder if she’d taken her teasing a step too far. 

And then, she was paying for it moments later, when he poured the disgusting liquid all over her freshly cut hair, causing her to gag. Okay, she deserved that.

Chapter Text

“Well done, guest. Please refrain from moving the patient for at least—”

“Kindly shut up,” Belle snapped at the automated voice. Her hands shook terribly as she tossed the gloves and bloody apron onto the floor. Cleanliness didn’t matter, but she took the time to scrub her hands and arms. 

She turned to her patient and watched with some trepidation and a bit of relief as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She was absolutely insane for doing this. But she was compelled by a deeply ingrained sense of justice. This man had been dealt a poor hand indeed. Either that or he had volunteered himself to take his own brother’s place, and it seemed to Belle like Earth was in desperate need of more men like Adam. 

She needed to get him out of there before it was too late. Already she had been scared out of her wits by a ship-wide message from The Fool, who had basically put a target on Belle’s back. It was a relief to know she was alive, but she had no way of knowing about Gaston. She just had to hope and trust that she was being taken care of. Belle had a mission of her own. 

She tossed a few extra syringes of local anesthetic and some powerful pain medication into a small canvas bag she had found. And as she watched Adam’s slow breathing, she suddenly turned and puked in the industrial sized sink. The trauma of first, escaping death, and then performing surgery had suddenly caught up with her.

It had been a miracle she had found the gurney to begin with. After The Fool had shot the navigator and then his own brother, she had used the ensuing panic to her advantage. She hadn’t hesitated. Some basic instinct had taken control, and she found herself dragging Adam out into the corridor. She didn’t stop, even when her arms and legs felt like they were going to give out. By some other miracle, she had fully collided with a medical gurney down one of the corridors. 

Now, all she needed to do was find one of the escape pods. She hadn’t seen them on the regular schematics. But there was a secret set of blueprints that were only distributed to the security team (i.e. Gaston). It had only taken a little cajoling and flirting to get him to show them to Belle.

Gaston…

She sighed. There was a sinking feeling in her gut. She didn’t know why, but she had a sense that something terrible had happened to him. And her gut was never wrong. 

Which was why she stopped questioning her sanity and pushed Adam’s gurney into the hall again. Something was telling her to get this man off of the ship, and she would follow this instinct to its inevitable end, whatever that might be. 

There was a grunt, and she realized Adam was waking up. “Don’t you move a muscle. I just stitched you closed, and I’m not letting all that hard work go to waste.”

Adam couldn’t do anything except turn his head to look at her. She had to forcibly tear her gaze from his piercing blue eyes. There was a pleading look there that she couldn’t possibly handle, and she didn’t have time to sit there and interpret it. 

Then, Belle released a shout of triumph when they came across an elevator. The thing wasn’t exactly designed to carry more than a few people standing upright, and it took a bit of convincing to get the doors to close. Even still, she was basically perched on the edge of the gurney.

His hand found her wrist, and he squeezed tightly. She finally allowed herself to meet his gaze. 

“Lass, what the actual hell are ya doin’?” He said in a hoarse voice. 

“I already told you. I’m saving your sorry ass.”

He shook his head. “You don’t even know if I’m…if I’m even really innocent.”

“You’re not your brother. Either of them. That’s enough for me.”

He sighed and opened his mouth to speak.

She just put a finger to his lips. “Hush. We’re almost on the right floor.”

Adam regarded her. She was undeniably beautiful. Dark-haired with warm brown eyes. She was dusky-skinned from too much sun. And those lips…he had kissed them passionately a little while ago. Though, he had no concept of passing time while he was undergoing emergency surgery. 

He had accused her of being messed up in the head, and he stood by that. She had done her due diligence to ensure that Maddy was the hostage that would be chosen for release. But the manner in which she had negotiated that release was nothing short of extraordinary. No sane woman would put her life on the line by seducing “The Beast” unless she relished the idea in the first place. And he was certain she had enjoyed every single second of their unexpected passionate moments in the supply closet. He might have been flattered. But more than anything, she didn’t feel he deserved the current lengths she was going to on his behalf. She scared the living daylights out of him, if he was being honest. 

She watched the LED display with growing impatience. And then, she turned back and met Adam’s gaze. “You’re thinking too loudly,” she griped. 

“Need a distraction,” he muttered with a wince.

Belle smirked. Then, she leaned down and kissed him. He grunted in surprise and then sighed against her mouth. This was just the sort of thing he needed.

And then, her elbow pushed against his injury. 

“Devil woman,” he hissed. She might have taken the time to properly apologize, but they had finally reached the correct floor. 

And just around the corner, she was certain she heard approaching footsteps. 

—

Snow reached up and took hold of Maddy’s chin, turning her head side to side to admire his handiwork. “You look good. There’s just one thing missing.”

“What’s that—?” 

His fist flew out of nowhere and socked her in the mouth. 

She reeled back and was immediately fuming, but he just grabbed her shoulders and held on.

“You’re okay. You look tough now.” He grabbed a small tablet from the nearby table and held it up so she could see her reflection. “I probably just saved your life.”

Her lip was split at the corner, and she wiped at the small trickle of blood down her chin. “You treat all women like this?” She retorted, glaring down at him.

“Nah, only the ones I like.”

Oh, she really wanted to smack the smug look off of his face. In fact, that was precisely what she did. Except it was with her fist. 

He grunted and gave her an admiring look. “Not bad, Princess.”

She ignored him and walked over to the only door in the room. The small glass window gave them a perfect view of the exact scenario Clopin had hoped they would avoid. The thing that he had most definitely been trying to tell them before communications were cut off. It was the prison’s main containment quarters, where all except The Fool’s inner circle of cronies (and anyone in search of Maddy) had gathered. Hundreds of crazed inmates stood between them and whatever Snow’s end goal was.

“This isn’t going to work,” she said. She was really regretting allowing him to cut and “dye” her hair. She still looked feminine, despite the split lip and the unflattering orange jumpsuit. “What’s so important that you can’t just get on the escape pod with me? You clearly didn’t accept this mission willingly, and you have ulterior motives.”

“Of course this will work. Just act like a guy,” he said, totally avoiding her question. Besides, he was more than a little annoyed that she was forced to tag along on this particular journey. She was only complicating things. 

She hummed. “So, think with my dick, and be a misogynistic asshole. Got it.”

He held up one finger. “Actually, not all men.” He then walked over to the door and put his hand on the doorknob. “Just don’t draw attention to yourself. This isn’t one of your fancy presidential society functions.”

“Where do you get these ideas about me?”

He shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the kind of girl who’d go bowling.”

She didn’t know why it was so important to her, but she was suddenly defending herself. “I happen to be great at bowling. I go every Tuesday.”

He didn’t bother hiding his incredulity.

“There’s a lane at the White House,” she added. 

“That’s precisely my point.”

Oh, so he thought she was a privileged little brat with a silver spoon in her mouth? A princess? “That’s hardly my fault,” she retorted.

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like your dad.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he reached out and snatched the rifle from her shoulder, the one he had bestowed on her earlier before sending her off to “fend for herself.” 

“This isn’t even loaded,” he said, tossing it aside.

And this only annoyed her further. It really wasn’t her fault that she was the President’s adopted daughter. She was born into privilege. Snow didn’t even know how hard Sarousch had climbed, how many backs he had broken in his attempts to reach the top of the ladder. One of those had been Maddy’s. She was just a means to an end. A pretty face who was doing enough “good deeds” to hide her father’s bad ones. Only, this latest venture had landed her into some incredibly hot water.

She wanted to offer another word in her own defense, but he opened the door and she was almost knocked back by the stench. God, the smell of the gathered prisoners inside was overwhelming. Then, her anger at Snow was overshadowed by her terrifying reality. She was about to walk through a crowd of psychotic prisoners who hadn’t enjoyed the touch of a woman in years. Not to mention that The Fool had put a prize on her head, a reward given to the man who brought back his precious “Smiler.” If any one of these men suspected her, she was as good as dead. 

She stepped across the threshold and couldn’t help looking around at the prisoners. They came in all shapes and sizes, but they were all men. Filthy, gruff, and uncouth. Some were passed out on the floor, having gotten their hands on some contraband from the murdered prison guards. The ones that weren’t milling around aimlessly (or fighting each other) were noticeably strange. She saw a few of them seated on the hard floor or gazing off into space. One man was muttering to himself and smacked the side of his head repeatedly. Another was rocking back and forth, cackling loudly. 

Snow followed her gaze, and he might have asked her about the weird behavior if he wasn’t on a mission. They made it to the upper level, where he was disappointed to realize Zephyr’s containment unit was open and empty. Of course—nothing was going to plan on this mission. Nothing was easy. 

“Hey, little guy,” a deep voice said behind them. 

Maddy was closest, and she turned around to find herself confronted with a wall of flesh. A guy that was as tall as a pro basketball player but built like a linebacker. Furthermore, he had the outline of teeth tattooed on his lips. It gave him a decidedly eerie look, like they were seeing part of his skeleton. 

“Can I help you?” The large man asked.

“No. Well, actually, you could step out of the way,” Snow retorted. He had his usual unflappable attitude, and Maddy wasn’t sure if it was a help or a hindrance in this instant.

Then, the tall man’s eyes turned to Maddy. She shrank back instinctively, but he reached out and gripped the front of her jumpsuit. “I like your pretty boy. Does he like to party?”

“Hell yeah,” Snow said. His tone was as dry and sarcastic as anything, but his heart was pounding away in his chest. Zephyr was nowhere to be found, and their present situation was going to turn nasty if he didn’t let loose of Maddy.

She glanced around and realized the other prisoners had taken notice. One man was licking his lips as he looked at Maddy, like she was a meal he was ready to devour. 

“We’d love to stay, but it’s past our curfew,” Snow said.

Maddy took the hint, and she slammed her knee into the large man’s groin. He loosened his grip, and she took off running towards a nearby corridor. Snow was right behind her, but he couldn’t help but be impressed as she kicked and elbowed her way through the growing crowd of cagey prisoners. A few had weapons they had stolen from the guards and were beginning to fire at them. She ducked into the hallway with Snow directly behind her. He used his own gun to keep the men at bay, but Maddy realized they were at a dead end. The electronic door that might have been their escape route was jammed shut. 

She fiddled with the keypad and even tried prying it open, but it was no use.

Suddenly, Snow yanked her back and pushed the rifle into her hands. “Hold them off for a second.”

Maddy surprised him again by cocking the weapon and nestling it between her shoulder and collarbone. She let out a rain of bullets, and there were a few cries of pain from the approaching horde of prisoners. As if she had done this sort of thing before. She knew how to handle a gun.

“Jesus. I thought your dad was a Democrat,” Snow said.

She didn’t have time to retort and kept shooting until he managed to get the door open. He all but dragged her inside, and as soon as the doors closed in front of them, she shot the keypad. 

They stood there for a moment, listening to the commotion on the other side. But the doors didn’t budge, even when they heard answering gunfire and pounding fists on the metal. 

“That was kind of impressive,” Snow said, before he could stop himself.

“I’m not a princess.”

He blinked at her. Her hair was cut way too short, covered in grease, and she was sporting a split lip. Even in the unflattering jumpsuit, there was something about the way she handled a gun that Snow found incredibly attractive. But he would rather chew off his left big toe than admit it. “Duly noted,” was all he said.

They heard footsteps behind them. They both spun around, and he had to grip the barrel of Maddy’s weapon before she fired at the approaching man in the jumpsuit. 

“Zephyr?” He cried, racing forward and actually wrapping the young man in a slightly awkward hug. He didn’t often engage in such gestures, but he was so damn glad to see him. Finally, something was going right for once. “You okay?”

Zephyr nodded. He had blonde hair, just like his dad, but his eyes were as dark as coal. He was a perfect blend of Esmeralda and Phoebus, God rest his soul. At the moment, though, he was looking decidedly gaunt. And there was something in his eyes…a look that sent an unfamiliar fear into Snow’s heart. 

“Hey, Zeph. You son of a bitch. You scared me half to death. Are you okay?”

Zephyr nodded again. “Okay. Okay? Okay. Bitch. Son of a…bitch.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Buddy. You? To be…no, not to be. To be, or—”

Snow reached up and grabbed Zephyr’s chin, forcing the other man to look at him. “What is going on?”

“It’s Dementia,” Maddy said.

“What? He’s 23. There’s no way in hell.”

She frowned. “It’s from the stasis. Some people just…unravel.”

“Gravel,” Zephyr said.

Shit. This was the stuff Phoebus had been going on about. The State Secrets he’d been so eager to protect with his own life. “So, it is true.”

“True! True, true,” Zephyr muttered.

“Hey, look at me,” Snow said, gripping the front of Zephyr’s jumpsuit.

“Look at you. Look at blue. True blue. Union blue. Lullaby? Lullaby…” The young man started smacking the heel of his palm against his forehead. He turned around and spun in a circle, repeating the last word over and over. “Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby…”

“Shit.” Snow just watched in horror, realizing his entire purpose for coming there was basically going up in smoke. Of course, he’d accomplished half of his mission. He had managed to keep Maddy safe so far (though she was proving to be more capable than he realized). But finding Zephyr had been tantamount. 

Snow tried to catch Zephyr’s attention, and he started asking about the briefcase. He just needed one little clue, one brief moment of clarity where the man could tell him where it was hidden. 

“Where did you hide it? Do you remember?” Snow prodded for what felt like the fifth time.

“Yeah,” Zephyr said, his eyes wide. Snow felt a rush of elation. “I put the case…in my pants.”

Snow let out a groan of frustration. 

“Sister Mary said it was bad to get it out during mass. She said doing bad things makes the angels cry, and…” Zephyr continued in his vein, and Snow just wiped a hand down his face in a hopeless gesture.

“It’s a disruption in his cortical circuitry,” Maddy added. “It’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“It’s fucking bad news.” Snow said. 

“Sorry,” she replied. The disappointment on his face was so palpable that she had a strange urge to reach out and offer some form of comfort. She felt bad for him. She really did. And especially for Zephyr, because it was clear the man was totally off his rocker. He was talking about brownies.

They heard more pounding on the doors, and she was certain she heard The Fool’s unmistakable screech of delight, just before a spray of sparks filled their side of the hallway. Someone was trying to cut through the door. 

“Time to go,” Snow declared, and he grabbed Zephyr’s arm and pulled him towards a nearby elevator.

“He’s coming with us?” Maddy protested. 

“I need him!” Snow said, sounding rattled for the first time. He kept asking Zephyr about the case, even as he slammed his hand on the keypad in the elevator. 

Maddy decided not to argue with him, even though she was certain he had no idea where he was taking them. They moved into another hallway, and then another, and then they were suddenly backtracking. 

“Smiler!” The Fool’s voice echoed in the hallway. 

Maddy grabbed Snow and pulled hard, because he was going in the wrong direction, straight for the approaching threat. Zephyr was yanked backwards and landed on his ass. He was laughing, even as Snow and Maddy pulled him through a door and down a set of stairs. They kept going, even with The Fool laughing and calling out behind them. Down and down they went, and the air was getting heavier. 

Maddy didn't have time to consider and just kept urging the two men to go faster. Eventually, she reached down and grabbed Zephyr's other arm. Between the two of them, they managed to get through a set of doors and into a dark labyrinth of pipes and wires. 

“Where is my bonnie lass? My sweet, smiling Madellaine?” The Fool's voice echoed in the large room. 

“Nice song,” Zephyr said. Snow clamped a hand over the young man's mouth. 

They ducked down behind a large pipe. The air was stifling. More and more footsteps surrounded them, all while they were desperately looking for a way out of there. 

Suddenly, there was a loud chirping sound from Maddy's wrist. She cursed and pulled the device off—the tag that warned her the radiation levels were far too high. Somehow they had made it to the belly of MS One. A prisoner in an orange jumpsuit appeared in front of them, and it was Zephyr's turn to surprise them by knocking the man down. 

Snow and Maddy saw the concealed doorway at the same time, and they ran towards it. Zephyr was between them. Gunfire rang out again, and The Fool was hot on their trail, alongside several of his cronies. Maddy smashed her hand over the nearest control panel, and another set of metal doors slammed shut behind them. Snow broke the panel with his fist. They moved like a coordinated dance as the two of them moved simultaneously down the hall. For all their bickering, they made a surprisingly good team.

But they forgot to factor in Zephyr, who was suddenly enthralled by something out the nearest window. He was the first to recognize the next threat. A nearby satellite, which had lost communication due to The Fool's efforts at cutting everyone off, was moving directly towards MS One. Straight for that exact window. 

Zephyr pointed to it, but he was powerless to even speak a word. By then, Maddy and Snow had moved down the hall a good distance. 

Impact. The entire ship shuddered, sending them all to the floor. Snow looked up in time to see a set of emergency doors slamming closed. Zephyr was trapped on the other side of it. 

“No!” He cried, racing forward to peer up at his friend's son through the glass. “Press the panic button!” He shouted, pointing to where the panel would be on the opposite side. 

“Button. Button. Button,” Zephyr repeated, looking around helplessly.

Snow was in a panic himself. He went to the panel on their side, but the door was in lockdown mode. It had sensed impact and a possible breach in that hallway. Glass shattered, and the corridor was quickly becoming a wind tunnel. Zephyr gripped the edge of the door. His eyes moved to Maddy. She saw the desperation there.

“It's okay,” she said, automatically. She knew this was the end for the young man. There was no coming back from this, and he was already lost to Snow with his scrambled brain. 

“I'm gonna get you out of there, buddy,” Snow was saying. He cursed when the panel let out a loud screech. This door wasn't opening again. 

Zephyr just looked at Maddy. He was so intent that she couldn't look away. “Button. Button. Brain. Train. Train…station.”

She realized he was trying to say something. “The briefcase?” She offered. 

He nodded his head. “Locked. No…locker. I see you. I foresee you.”

“What does that mean?” She prompted. 

“I see you. I foresee you. I see you. I foresee you!”

Maddy's eyes filled with tears as the alarm began to sound. The breach was getting worse. The air was shifting so strongly that Zephyr was being blown around. He was going to be sucked out the hole in the window any moment.

“Fuck!” Snow cried. “Hang on, Zeph. I'll get you out. I'll—”

“Snow,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “It's no use.”

He tried to push her away, but she just yanked him away from the panel so Zephyr could look at him. The young man smiled at his friend, even while tears fell down his own face. 

“I see you,” Zephyr said again. 

Snow swallowed hard. “I see you, too, buddy.”

The alarm sounded even louder now, and Zephyr could no longer stand upright. He was gripping the window on the door. “I see you. I foresee—”

The satellite shifted, and the entire side of the hallway disappeared. Zephyr was sucked out into the vacuum of space in mere seconds. 

Snow angrily pounded his fist against the wall. He was going to give himself bloody knuckles or even break some bones if he didn't stop. 

Maddy grabbed his arm and held it back. “We have to go,” she told him. “The breach might shift again.”

“Fuck!” He cried one last time. But he didn't pull his arm out of Maddy's grip. 

She just held on as she led them away from the damaged part of the ship. It was only going to get worse. She looked at his upper arm, where the digital map was beeping. By some stroke of luck, they were near the escape pods. 

“We're almost there,” she said, still holding onto him as they raced around the corner. 

He was completely silent. And this was unsettling. She preferred his sarcastic remarks to this. His expression was hardened, almost numb. His entire mission was pointless. His one meal ticket, his means of escaping justice, was gone. He wasn't stupid enough to actually believe the FBI when they said his crimes would be “absolved” after doing this “one small factor” for them. He knew they would renege on that promise faster than the President could even deny his involvement in this disastrous affair. 

No, the briefcase with its secrets was his only means of escape. And the location was lost, long before Zephyr died. That was the part he couldn't get over. The impossible task of finding Zephyr meant nothing, because his brain was already fried before Snow even arrived. 

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” he snapped in reply.

She dropped her hand from his arm and ignored his angry retort. He was taking out his frustrations on her. Fine. She could handle it. “I know he was your friend.”

“I don’t need your sympathy, and neither does he.”

Well, now she was annoyed. “Yeah, he needed a friend who didn’t hang him out to dry.”

“Hey, I’m taking the rap for something I didn’t do. I’m not the one who put him here.” He breathed out a sharp sigh. “It’s fine. I mean, people die all the time. How many have died for you since you got here?”

She stopped walking and turned to face him. Sure, he had just lost a friend. But this was going too far.

He wasn’t finished, either. “You’re the President’s daughter, so it’s just collateral damage, right? Your little PR trip didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to, and that's all anyone will have to say about it.”

What annoyed her the most was that…he wasn’t entirely wrong. She already hated her privilege enough. Did he have to rub it in? She squared her shoulders and glared down at him. “I came here to ensure that people were being treated fairly and decently, unlike yourself.”

“It’s easy to be a saint with nothing on the line.”

She scoffed, but there were tears in her eyes. “You’re calling yourself a saint?”

He dropped her gaze. He knew he was being an ass, but he couldn't stop. He was pissed off, and she was the closest thing he had to a punching bag at that moment. “People always flake out when it really matters. I'm just saying you don't really know what sort of person you are unless there's a big sacrifice on the line. Until it's your own life. Most people run for cover.”

“But not you. Right?” She said, her lips thinning into an unhappy line. 

“No,” he returned.

“No. You just sacrifice your friends. Phoebus…Zephyr…Who else has died for you, Snow? Don’t claim to be such a saint yourself.” Maddy turned and walked down the hall. 

After a quiet, tense pause, he followed. 

Then, they reached the escape pod bay. He stormed past her and punched in the access code. 

The door swung open, and Maddy’s heart sank. “There’s only one seat.”

Chapter Text

“Sir, we have a pod launch from MS One.”

Frollo let out a soft chuckle. “What do you know, Clopin? Your deadbeat agent actually did his job.”

Clopin narrowed his eyes at the other man and was about to retort when the operator frowned at his screen.

“It’s falling at a much higher rate of speed, Sir,” the young man said. “And the trajectory is off.”

Another operator chimed in. “Sensors from the tracker indicate Miss Sarousch is still on MS One.”

“Sir, we no longer have guidance on the escape pod. All tracking systems have been turned off somehow.”

They heard a loud trill over the speakers. “Incoming call from The President, Sir. He wants an update.”

Frollo felt a cold sweat starting to break out on his body. Clopin couldn’t even rejoice in the other man’s discomfort knowing that this plan wasn’t exactly working out for any of them. Frollo needed the president’s daughter alive and safely off the ship. And Clopin had his own reasons for wanting to know the location of the briefcase. That was the only thing he cared about.

—

MOMENTS BEFORE ESCAPE POD LAUNCH

“You take this one, and I’ll follow in the next,” Snow said.

Maddy didn’t buy it. Still, she stepped inside and turned around to face him. “You are going in the other pod, right?”

“I’ll be right behind you. Don’t worry.” He smiled. And Snow rarely smiled, unless he was saying something at her expense.

Holy shit. He wasn’t telling the truth. And she watched, mystified, as he spun on his heel and exited the bay. Then, she was overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness and fury. She knew this was the only one. She saw the button there, just waiting for her to press it. But what about Belle? What about the innocent members of staff on MS One? What about Snow? 

How many people have died for you since you got here? Snow’s accusation rang in her head like a giant bell. Guilt mingled with something else in her gut—the realization that if she escaped, she’d never forgive herself for sacrificing the lives of everyone on the ship. Innocent or otherwise. Because the minute she stepped foot off the ship, she knew her father would authorize an attack to blow the place to bits. 

And so, she took a step out of the pod. And then another.

She heard a noise in the corridor, and she wondered (or even hoped?) whether it was Snow coming back. But she was thoroughly unprepared for the duo that burst through the door across the hall.

Maddy didn’t even hesitate. She raced forward and pulled Belle into a tight hug. The two women said nothing. They just clung to each other for a long, quiet moment. 

“What happened to your hair?” Belle said when they finally stepped back.

Her question caused them both to burst into slightly hysterical laughter. Now was hardly the time for such pleasantries. Especially when Maddy’s eyes fell on the gurney and its occupant. She saw the sheen of sweat on The Beast’s brow, but there was a soft look in his piercing gaze as he stared up at Belle, like she was his entire world. He no longer looked menacing, especially with the bloody bandages around his bare torso. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Maddy said, giving her friend a mildly scolding look.

Belle flushed. “I don’t have time to explain. I need you to trust me. And we need one of the escape pods.”

Maddy decided not to inform her friend of the bad news. Clearly, MS One had its secrets that they kept hidden even from those with inside knowledge (because Belle had likely been trained to handle any possible scenario if things went wrong, which they certainly had). One escape pod for an entire ship full of prisoners and staff. Maddy bit back the urge to go on a tirade about how poorly planned this entire operation was. It only solidified her resolve.

“Right this way,” she said, guiding the pair into the bay. She glanced back in time to witness Belle helping The Beast to his feet. He winced and cursed. 

Maddy glanced around and saw two things. She grabbed a med kit and a white lab coat. “Strip down for me, please,” she instructed him.

He protested, but he couldn’t exactly fight the two women as they worked to dislodge the orange jumpsuit from his injured body. He stood there in his boxer briefs, and Maddy could see fresh blood on his bandages from the bullet wound beneath his ribcage. She pulled something out of the med kit and gave Belle a single glance. Their silent communication paid off. Belle gripped Adam’s wrists while Maddy worked as fast as possible. 

“What the hell are ya doin’?” Adam protested.

But quick as a flash, Maddy peeled the bandages away and sprayed Quik-seal on the hastily-stitched wound on the front and back. He knew why Belle was holding his hands, because the searing pain was enough to make him want to lash out. This would stop the bleeding, though. He knew it was for his own benefit. Then, Maddy placed a sticky bandage against his neck. He immediately felt the effects of a powerful pain reliever enter his bloodstream. 

Belle and Maddy took advantage of his brief moment of bliss to push him towards the escape pod. He was quickly buckled into the seat while Belle punched in an override code and a fresh set of coordinates. Maddy caught The Beast’s gaze. She saw something there…pleading, perhaps. Quite without knowing why, she knew she could trust him, too. She knew there was a reason Belle had wanted to save him. He continued to stare at Maddy, and she could read the silent request on his face. In fact, she had been trying to formulate a plan of her own, a way to get Belle off of this cursed ship and somewhere safe.

And so, at precisely the same moment, The Beast wrapped his arms around Belle while Maddy slammed the button that closed the doors to the pod. 

Belle’s protests were muffled behind the protective glass, but Maddy just met The Beast’s gaze and said, “Take care of her, or I’ll find you and kill you myself.”

He quietly nodded his head, all while he gripped Belle even tighter. He smashed his fist on the launch button, and the pod was expelled from the ship. Maddy prayed to whatever deity was listening that the device and its occupants would make it in one piece. Either way, she had just spared her dearest friend the very real possibility of perishing in the inevitable destruction of MS One. It was a fate Maddy contemplated without any real fear for her own safety. The decision was already made. 

With that, she slapped one of the pain patches from the med kit onto her neck (whatever shot Snow had given her was wearing off, and her bullet wound was throbbing) and wandered down the corridor. It didn’t take her long to find him. He was standing by one of the windows, watching as the escape pod corrected its course and entered Earth’s atmosphere.

She watched him for a moment. She saw the way his shoulders were slumped forward. He looked much smaller this way. Defeated. He knew as well as Maddy what was to come, and since he believed she was gone, he was just waiting for the inevitable. She wondered if he was thinking about Zephyr. She felt a sting of guilt for throwing his death in Snow’s face earlier. It hadn’t been his fault, really. And clearly the location of the briefcase was so crucial to him—

Maddy bit back a gasp. She had a sudden moment of clarity. But for the moment, she just walked towards him.

He spun around at the sound of her footsteps. She wasn’t sure she was imagining the unshed tears in his eyes, which he quickly blinked away. His expression hardened. He was warring against several emotions at once. For one thing, he was damn glad to see her again, and he didn’t know what to make of that. But mostly, he was pissed.

“What the fuck, Maddy?”

“We should get those knuckles bandaged up,” she said, taking a seat on a nearby metal bench and gesturing for him to join her. She quietly pulled some bandaging and medicated ointment out of the kit.

“Maddy, what the actual fuck?” He repeated. “You just wasted a means of escape from this hell hole.”

“I didn’t waste it. I sent some precious cargo home.”

“You’re the cargo!”

She gave him a curious but mildly teasing look. “If I didn’t know any better, Rumplestiltskin, I’d almost think you liked me or something.”

He let out a sharp laugh. “I was sent here to do a job, and you just sabotaged it.”

She hummed. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t have ulterior motives for coming here. Besides, I’m probably the only thing keeping the staff and other hostages alive. My father won’t let them destroy this place if I’m still on it.”

“Have you met your father?”

“Don’t start with me again,” she said, holding up a hand to stem the flow of his accusations. She knew her father well enough. He was as corrupt and twisted as Snow said he was. But the one thing Sarousch loved more than himself was his adopted daughter. 

Snow just shook his head. “I can’t help you with this. It’s a suicide mission to try and save anyone else, Maddy.”

She finally had a chance to use her one piece of leverage with him. “I know where the briefcase is.”

He was so stunned that he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Zephyr told us where it is, and I just figured it out.”

“Bullshit.”

“It was the last thing he said.” She held his gaze like a challenge. And she knew he saw the truth in her eyes. 

Hope, painful hope, flared in his chest. “Tell me where it is, then.”

“You help me, I help you.”

He groaned in protest. 

She smirked. “Or all you all talk and no trousers?”

Well, that did it. He was annoyed because she was partially right. “I’m a lot of trousers,” he muttered. “So, what do we do now?” Then, he jumped when Maddy reached for his hand. 

“First, this,” she said, indicating his bloody and bruised knuckles. She spread the medicated cream across the cuts and quietly bandaged him. “Then, we find a way to get some more people off this ship before your people blow it up.”

He scoffed. “They aren’t my people. This whole mission was part of a deal, which is pretty much null and void.”

She sighed. She knew enough about the intricacies of politics to recognize that Snow was just a pawn. He was the worst sort—a former agent who had grown disillusioned with the leadership, who wasn’t willing to swallow anymore bullshit and ignore the glaring inconsistencies. MS One was just a singular example of misappropriated funds combined with cruel and unusual punishment. And whatever deal Snow had worked out for himself probably wasn’t going to pan out anyway. The IBI or the CIA or whoever was in charge of this shit-show of a rescue mission weren’t going to follow through. They would play dumb and pretend there hadn’t been a deal in the first place, and Snow would take the fall.

She was more determined than ever to chase down this small lead that Zephyr had given them. She’d do it because she was tired of people dying on her behalf. 

Right on cue, the loudspeaker emitted the familiar sound of The Fool’s crooning. “Where are you, Smiler?” 

Maddy stood up and walked towards the nearest security control room, where the screens were lit up with the image of The Fool and his cronies in the main communications bay. She gasped when she saw a line of people in white lab coats.

“There’s been a change of plan,” The Fool said. He lifted his hand and fired off a shot. There was a scream, a groan of pain, and one of the staff members fell to the floor. The Fool laughed. “I haven’t even told you the plan yet! But for every 3 seconds you’re not here, I’m killin’ another one. Ya understand me? Come back to me, mah sweet, my little Madellaine…” He crooned the song and cocked his weapon, killing another one of the figures in a white lab coat.

Maddy picked up the nearest walkie-talkie and shouted into it. “Stop. I’ll tell you where I am. Just stop.”

Snow put a warning hand on her arm, but she pulled away from him.

“Ye must tell me where, and don’t lie.” He raised the pistol towards the nearest doctor, who trembled and whimpered.

“Maddy, don’t,” Snow warned, trying to grab the device from her hand.

But she was so tired of the needless killing. The death that was a direct result of her presence on this ship. She regretted coming here in the first place. Part of her regretted letting Belle and the Beast use the only escape pod, because now she was truly having to lay her life on the line for other innocent people. It all came down to this.

“Don’t tell him,” Snow insisted.

But she was done playing games. She lifted the walkie-talkie and pressed the button. “Level 3,” she said.

The Fool cackled. Then, he turned his gun to the people in their white coats and shot every single one of them. Maddy screamed in horror.

Snow grabbed her arm and all but dragged her down the hall towards the elevator. She sank to the floor and let the silence fall over them as they descended to a different floor. 

Snow watched her for a long, quiet moment. “He was going to kill them all anyway.”

She wiped angrily at her face and turned away from him. “I don’t really know where the briefcase is. I only have a guess.” She finally turned and looked at him. “I just needed your help.”

Snow sighed and sank down on the floor of the elevator beside her. “I know.”

She shut her eyes and gently thumped her head against the wall. She felt totally helpless and useless. This really had been a fool’s errand. Any sense of self-righteousness for sacrificing herself for “the greater good” was completely gone. 

Just then, the elevator shuddered and came to a stop. The LED screen was completely blank. Clearly, The Fool had cut the power to the elevators. Snow just took a steadying breath and walked over to pry the doors open. The lift had stopped halfway between two floors, and so only half of a room was visible. He used his rifle to prop the door open so that Maddy could jump down after him. She bumped into him and realized he had come to a complete stop, frozen in what appeared to be either fear or disgust.

Maddy followed his gaze and then pressed a hand to her mouth to fight the urge to gag. Bodies were laid out on exam tables and gurneys—there were at least 10 of them crammed into some sort of operating room. Many of the corpses’ heads had been sawn open, allowing brain matter to spill freely onto the tabletops. She saw unmistakable signs of old lobotomy wounds on a few of the bodies, too. It was like a mad scientist’s playroom. Something straight out of Frankenstein.

She swallowed hard as the full truth came to light. “This is what I was afraid of. The whole reason I came here. I just had to know if…they were using the prisoners as guinea pigs.”

“You were right,” he said softly. His voice was strained, like he was fighting the urge to vomit, too. It was a grisly sight. “Looks like your hostage buddies weren’t exactly the innocent victims you thought they were.”

Maddy felt the tears starting again. She felt bad enough without him throwing that in her face. And when he glanced at her, she saw something she didn’t expect—regret mingled with something like sympathy. She opened her mouth to speak, but her face suddenly paled. She quickly grabbed something from a nearby table. He saw the shine of the scalpel gripped tightly in one fist, and he knew, before he even turned around, that they were cornered.

He suddenly felt the barrel of a rifle pressed against the back of his head. 

“Don’t move,” a gruff voice said.

Snow held Maddy’s panicked gaze. He couldn’t say anything, and so he hoped his little smirk was encouragement enough. Then, he was knocked unconscious by a massive blow to the head. 

Chapter Text

“Snow. You there?”

He grunted. He felt like he’d been punched or kicked in the gut in addition to having his head smashed with the butt of a rifle. He didn't know why he wasn’t dead. He had been tossed down some sort of shaft or air duct. There were alarms blaring somewhere in the distance. A red light blinked overhead. His entire world shook and shuddered, and he was rolled over to his side.

“Snow, do you copy?”

“Loud and clear, Clopin,” Snow said as he sat up with a groan. The world tilted side to side briefly while he regained his bearings. “How are we talking right now?”

“The Fool turned the comms back on. He’s trying to make a deal for Maddy’s life in exchange for some ridiculous demands.”

Snow could hear shouting in the background and a cry of pain from a feminine voice he knew all too well. No doubt the President was trying to call his bluff or get him to reduce his demands. Sarousch wasn’t going to let this turn into a PR disaster. Not when his approval rating was slipping in the latest polls.

“It’s not going well,” Clopin said, unnecessarily.

Snow felt a sudden rush of anxiety, and he berated himself for taking so long to regain consciousness. He was bleeding from the blow to the back of his head and out of breath from falling at least 8 feet down this shaft. But he was alive. And he had to wonder if Maddy had somehow bargained for his life to be spared. 

“Hey, this is a secure channel,” Clopin said, lowering his voice. “How about our mutual friend? And the lost package?”

“Negative,” Snow said as he finally got himself up on his feet.

There was a soft exhalation of frustration from the other end. It seemed to matter a great deal to Clopin, too, and for the life of him, Snow couldn’t understand why. Then, he was distracted by more background noise from the supposed negotiations. “You need to get out of there right away,” Clopin added.

“But I didn’t get the girl.”

“Story of your life, handsome,” Clopin teased. “But listen. Her vitals don’t look great. And there’s no way for you to get back to her, even if she comes out of this alive. Which is…not looking great. We have no visuals. Only audio.”

Snow grunted in response. He had done his damndest to get the woman off the ship, but she just had to be stubborn about that, too. Now, she was in the hands of The Fool. The ship made another lurch as more alarms blared through the speakers overhead.

“MS One is falling out of the sky. Those blasts and collision with the satellite threw it out of orbit. You need to get to dock 9 right away.”

Dock 9? Clopin knew something Snow didn’t, because he’d been under the impression that the escape pod was the only way off this ship in one piece. He contemplated this while he worked to get himself out of whatever air shaft he was in. He used a small grappling hook and a climbing clip to work his way up the latticed metal grating all around him. 

“Get yourself in an exterior operations mechanic suit and get off the ship,” Clopin was saying. “You’ll have to float around a bit, but I’m sending someone to pick you up.”

Snow reached the main floor level and glanced around. He looked at the map on his upper arm and realized Dock 9 wasn’t too far from him. And neither was the main operations hub, where The Fool was presently trying to get Maddy and her father to cooperate with his insane demands. Snow’s feet were already guiding him in one specific direction. 

“Hey, you keep your hands off my daughter, or the deal’s off!” Sarousch was saying. It was either a good impression of a loving father, or he actually cared what happened to her. 

Maddy was heard grunting, and there was the unmistakable noise of a physical blow. 

The Fool coughed and then cackled. “I like ‘em feisty!” Then, there was the sound of a gun being cocked. No doubt it was aimed directly at her head. “Tell them, Smiler. Tell them the plan as we discussed. Word for word.”

There was a long, tense pause. “They’re all dead, Daddy. Blow this dump out of the sky.”

“Well, shit,” Snow said to himself. Maddy had demonstrated that she was stubborn as hell. But this showed unmistakable backbone and bravery on her part.

He was already running towards the main hub. He heard the commotion and Maddy’s cries of pain, mingled with The Fool’s triumphant shouts. 

“Promises are promises, Smiler,” he was saying. “Out! Everyone out!” 

Snow was also privy to a conversation on the Lower Orbit Police Station, through Clopin’s earpiece. Frollo was forcibly taking over command since Sarousch was incapable of ordering the assault on MS One. He couldn’t possibly be impartial while Maddy was still on board. But the assault was imminent. Time was ticking.

Snow just took a position in the hallway as The Fool’s crones stepped out to offer their de facto leader some privacy with his prize. He knew the ship was going down soon, and he wanted to take advantage of his last opportunity to have his way with Maddy. He heard another shout of pain from her and a cry of rage from The Fool. 

Snow deftly aimed his gun and took out each prisoner as they appeared in the corridor. The ensuing panic meant that they scattered like cockroaches. Still, he picked them off one by one with expert shots to the head—brutal executions borne out of a sudden rage that had bubbled up inside Snow. The thought of The Fool having his way with Maddy…desecrating her, destroying her in whatever way he could. He jumped to his feet and advanced another step. He was out of bullets, but that didn’t stop him. He used a knife to cut down each prisoner as they appeared. Soon enough, he was at the door to the main hub. It was painfully quiet inside, and he felt a rush of panic. Silence was not a good sign. He jammed his fist on the panel, and the doors finally slid open. 

He paused only once on the threshold. Maddy was on the floor, and she scrambled backwards away from the figure of The Fool. There was a sickening gurgling sound. A rasping, unintelligible voice that was crying out for her. Snow raced towards her and saw that The Fool’s throat was slashed wide open. Maddy’s hand that clutched the scalpel was coated in his blood. Even in the throes of death, The Fool crawled towards her with wicked intent in his eyes. He had pulled his orange jumpsuit off, and he was fully nude. Maddy’s leggings were ripped to shreds, but her underwear was still intact. She crawled backwards and flinched when she collided with Snow. 

He just put a hand on her shoulder, grabbed The Fool’s own pistol from where it lay on the control panel, and shot him through the head. At last, the man was silent. 

Maddy’s breath was quick and panicked. He gently squeezed her shoulder. And he wasn’t sure if it was for his own reassurance or hers.

“I know. I’m sorry. We need to leave right now,” he said.

Alarms blared on every screen and speaker in the ship, and the entire thing lurched sideways. His earpiece squawked, and he heard how Frollo was trying to be understood above President Sarousch’s cries of protest. 

“Not while she’s still there!”

“I’ve already ordered the assault. It’s done, Mister President. T-minus 2 minutes to missile impact, once we get past the automated defense systems.”

Snow put his hand under Maddy’s arm and pulled until she was upright. He didn’t think twice before gripping her hand and leading her down the hall. She was limping badly on her injured leg, but she pushed herself to keep pace with him. They both came to a stop at the next corridor. There were racing, pounding footsteps coming towards them. 

The other prisoners. They were coming towards them en masse, panicked and rioting all at once. It was absolute pandemonium, all while MS One tried to defend itself against attack by firing from the weapons bays outside. 

It was Maddy’s turn to take one look at the map and pull him down the next hallway. He still had The Fool’s gun in his hand, and he fired a few warning shots towards the angry mob in orange jumpsuits. A few of them fell down, but it didn’t stop the rest of them. 

The countdown was ticking away in the headset by a crisp, cool voice on the LOPS. They were down to 1 minute remaining until impact. Already, several of the LOPS fighters had been taken out by the impressive weapons systems on MS One. 

Finally, Snow saw the sign for the dock. He spun around and fired at the nearest panel. The metal doors slammed shut behind them, and the angry mob slammed against it with shocking force. Gunfire echoed behind them. They heard the shattering of glass as someone used the fire hammer to bust through the window. 

“Get dressed,” he said, pointing to the slim flight suits and the large exterior mechanic suits. 

They moved as quickly as they could. Snow struggled with his suit, since it was stiff and not designed for someone with a short stature. Maddy had to help him fasten the helmet. Soon enough, they were standing in the airlock and looking out at an even more chaotic scene. Ships flew past them while gunfire and missiles were exchanged between them and MS One’s weapons systems. Finally, the LOPS missile hit its mark, and the detonation sequence began. 

“It’s now or never,” he said, holding his hand over the button that would open the exterior doors. His voice came through the tinny speaker inside the suit, and she could hear how tense he was. Finally, he cleared his throat and added, “I’m not great with heights.”

Maddy wasn’t sure who moved first, but their gloved hands came together. And when he pressed the button, they were sucked out into the vacuum of space. He regained his bearings a lot quicker than she did, and he maneuvered with the simple jet pack on the back of the suit to avoid the debris. They still clung to each other as they hurtled towards the atmosphere. The heat was so intense that Maddy felt like she was going to melt inside the suit. Then, she felt something smash into the front of her, and she lost consciousness.

Snow had lost his grip on her at the same time, and it took some quick thinking to get himself back to her in time to hit the emergency release button on the suit. Soon enough, they were free-falling. He grabbed hold of her, clipped them both together, and pulled her chute. For once, he was grateful that he didn’t carry as much weight as a full-grown man. His small stature meant that the parachute was able to guide them both safely to the ground. 

He shifted so he took the full impact of the rocky ground that rose up to meet them a lot faster than he anticipated. He would have some impressive bruises after all was said and done. But damn, he was glad to have solid ground at his back again. Back to Earth and away from the hellish MS One.

Maddy’s eyes were still closed. He rolled so she was on the ground beside him. 

“Hey. It’s time to wake up,” he said. And without thinking, he cradled her face in his hands. He checked her for any visible signs of injury, but it was probably shock more than anything that had left her unconscious. He turned his head so he could listen for her breathing, which was faint at first.

Maddy took a full, gasping breath, and she finally blinked up at him. Then, she smirked. “You gonna give me mouth-to-mouth again?”

He laughed, because this was such an unexpected response after having hurtled through space and into Earth’s atmosphere. Not to mention having survived a fucking nightmare. “Only if you ask nicely.”

They had landed in some remote clearing without any discernible landmarks. But suddenly, the air around them began to pick up. Spotlights appeared overhead, and he counted at least 3 helicopters. 

He breathed out a soft sigh, which Maddy echoed. Was it too much to ask for a simple moment to recover from what had just happened?

“Guess they tracked you,” he said, gesturing to the small scar on her arm where the medical device had been implanted several months ago. 

Maddy opened her mouth to say something—to thank him, she guessed—but there were agents already dropping down from the choppers overhead. Snow was handcuffed before she could say a word. She was hauled onto a gurney and carted off to one of two choppers that had landed. She watched, helplessly, as Snow was shoved into the other with much less consideration. 

Maddy was taken to the nearby hospital (they had landed somewhere in rural Ohio), and she obliged the doctors by “taking it easy” for approximately 2 hours before she made some demands. She had some work to do, after all.

—

Belle was amazed they survived the crash. The pod had called far too fast, given the added weight of another person. She knew it was pointless to keep yelling at him, but she couldn’t help herself.

“If we both die because of this, I’ll never forgive you,” she griped, having to raise her voice over the roar outside the pod. They were approaching the atmosphere.

“I’d rather this than bleedin’ out on that blasted ship,” he said in her ear. Her back was fully pressed up against him, and he gently wrapped an arm around her as the pod began to shake violently. “And I’d rather with you than alone.”

Belle leaned her head back and turned her face as far as she could to nestle against him. It was an awkward position and hardly comfortable. But this undeniable connection was both baffling and comforting. She had no way of knowing if they’d survive this. And if they did—what then? They certainly couldn’t have a normal life together. And for someone who had always claimed she’d be permanently single (no attachments. It was easier that way), she felt a sting of regret at all the possibilities rolling around in her head, knowing that it wasn’t real. 

An alert was flashing on the nearby screen, but she was too terrified to look at it. The shaking had stopped, so that meant they were now free-falling through the air. Hopefully, they hadn’t veered too far off course. And most important of all, she hoped no one was tracking them at that precise moment. She needed anonymity for as long as humanly possible.

The alert chimed again, this time with renewed intensity. The parachutes deployed from the back of the pod. She was grateful for Adam’s firm grip around her waist, or else her body would have smashed against the front of the pod with their sudden change in velocity. Gravity caught up with them, and she felt the way the pod was now falling straight down instead of at a slant. Still, despite the awkward angle, Adam held onto her. Soon enough, the alert notified them to brace for impact. 

At last, the pod collided with solid ground. Adam lost his grip, and she fell against a nearby control panel, knocking herself unconscious for a few minutes. 

When she awoke, she was breathing fresh air. It was nearly dusk, and she didn’t immediately recognize their rural surroundings. She sat up with a start and glanced around. The pod had burst open, leaving behind a sizable blast in the muddy crater already created by their sudden impact. But she wasn’t inside it, so Adam must have pulled her out of the wreckage himself. She was just about to call out to him when he appeared at the edge of the woods nearby. He was carrying several large evergreen branches. 

“What the hell are you doing in your condition?” She spat at him.

He just shrugged his burly shoulders and continued what he was doing, which was to cover the escape pod with the branches. “I feel fine.”

“That’s the Quik-seal and the pain patch talking. You’ll be flat on your back in an hour, by my estimation.”

He walked over and didn’t stop until he was bent close to her face. “Then, we have an hour.”

She blinked up at him in surprise. Something inside of her actually doubted that this connection between them was real. She had been using him, at first. Then, she saved his life. More than once. But she hadn’t ever expected to actually fly off into the sunset with him once he was free. In fact, the moment they hit Earth, she genuinely believed he would make a run for it and leave her in the dust. And here he was, leaning over her with a slightly teasing smile on his face. He was covering their tracks and doing his best to conceal evidence of their arrival. 

She frowned and slowly lifted herself to her feet. “We need to get to my safe house. And then we need to get you to the hospital.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he just closed his mouth and nodded.

Chapter Text

The first thing Maddy did when she awoke in the hospital an hour after crash-landing on Earth was to request something from the gift shop. Armed with a simple tablet and access to the internet, she did some digging. And she avoided every repeated attempt from her father to contact her. He certainly hadn’t made the effort to come see her in the hospital. 

“Simply too busy,” he had said. “My team and I are dealing with the fallout from MS One. You understand, dear.” 

And that was when Maddy realized her life was worth less than his own reputation. There had been a brief moment during the Fool’s ridiculous negotiations that she almost believed Sarousch actually cared what happened to her. Maybe part of him actually did. But he certainly wasn’t demonstrating it in any tangible way. 

Furthermore, Snow had been placed under arrest. Despite going out of his way to save her life, it was clear that he was going to be the scapegoat for her father. The one on whom they could pin the blame. They claimed it was Snow who had manifested a mutiny among the prisoners on MS One, since his connection to Phoebus’s son Zephyr had mysteriously become common knowledge. It seemed like Snow wasn’t even trying to fight it, either. Maybe he’d always known this would happen—that even if he brought Maddy home safely, he’d be sent back to prison to await sentencing for a crime he didn’t commit. 

But who else knew about his connection to Zephyr? And what about the missing briefcase of secrets? Someone else surely wanted to get their hands on those. 

And so, Maddy put herself to work. The moment she was cleared of any serious injury, she made one last request of the doctor. All it took was a quick wire transfer from her anonymous bank account—something Belle had recommended a few years back, when her father’s schemes were becoming more brazen. It was self-protection, plain and simple. 

Armed with a sprained wrist, a patched up bullet wound in her leg, and a fresh cut on her upper arm, she checked herself out of the hospital. Not officially, of course. The next time her nurse came in to check on her, Maddy was gone. The window was open. Her two security guards were definitely going to be in trouble over it, and she felt a little bad about it—but not enough to make her location known to anyone. Of course, it was a lot easier with that medical tracking chip out of her arm. It gave her at least a week’s lead time before she was discovered by her father’s team. 

Maddy holed herself up at her own safe house (another recommendation from Belle), which was a dingy little place at the edge of town. Her first order of business was cooking herself some food. Then, she called Belle. And after sleeping for an entire 12 hours, she got to work.

—

It took a bit of ingenuity to figure out where they had actually landed, but by some miracle, Belle and Adam were only a few miles from the house (or, she should say kilometers, since they were in rural Canada). Something had finally gone right for them since escaping from MS One. She kept them off of the roads but used them as landmarks to guide them to their destination. It was a good thing it was nighttime—otherwise they would be a rather sorry and noticeable sight to any passersby. 

Finally, they approached a long line of wired fencing. She told him not to touch it, and he could hear the soft hum of electricity. She used a keypad to enter a side gate. As they walked through thick underbrush, she led them to a shorter fence. There was a second gate, this time with fingerprint recognition. Adam marveled at the rather unimpressive house that loomed at them from the darkness. Automatic flood lights switched on, and she approached a third and final gate blocking the front porch. This one had a retinal scanner.

“Just what sort of work do you do, lass?” He asked, despite being out of breath and in growing pain.

“Every government employee worth their salt has a safe house,” she explained in an off-handed manner. “Or, maybe it’s just people like me with too many connections to a crooked president.” 

He gave her an admiring look, which she didn’t notice. Once inside, she pushed Adam into a cushioned chair and made a few phone calls. Then, she gave him a change of clothes, since he was wearing nothing but his boots, his boxers, and the lab coat which was far too small for his bulky frame. The sight of his bloody bandages was making her anxious, but she just covered it up with her usual brusque, take-charge attitude. 

In no time at all, she was guiding Adam out the door and to a Land Rover parked in a detached garage. She said nothing as she navigated the various gates exiting her little compound. And by the time they reached the back of the urgent care clinic in town, Adam was passed out in the seat beside her. It seemed they had arrived in the nick of time.

“I don’t have the sort of facilities I need to really get in there and poke around,” Dr. Laverne said in her husky voice. She was in her early 80s but still spry and sharp as a tack. “But you did a bang-up job patching the, uh…puncture wound.” She gave Belle a pointed glance.

“He works in construction. He fell on a bit of rebar at a nearby site.”

Laverne narrowed her pale blue eyes at Belle. “Sure. If that’s the story you want me to go with, that’s what we’ll say. And what name should I put on the paperwork?”

“John. John…Huston.”

Laverne’s gray eyebrows rose in surprise. “I see. How very modern to have the man take your last name.”

Belle just nodded slowly.

“There’s always more to the story with you. And if you weren’t such a major donor to this little clinic, I’d tan your hide for getting mixed up with someone who is clearly in trouble.” She sighed and dropped her clipboard on a nearby cart. “You can take him home in an hour.”

“I have one more favor to ask,” Belle said.

Laverne cocked an eyebrow at her. She wasn’t at all surprised. 

“The tracking chip in his arm—”

“Already removed and destroyed,” she said, passing a closed Petri dish to Belle. She saw the way it had been burnt with some sort of acid. She was impressed with the doctor’s know-how. But this wasn’t their first encounter, so to speak. 

Belle sighed. “I can’t come back here again. But the money won’t stop, if I can help it.”

Laverne nodded. “I know. It’s the least you can do for the times I’ve pulled you out of one scrape or another. Take care of yourself, kid.” She surprised Belle by stepping forward and pulling her into a brief hug. 

With that, the doctor was gone. Belle sat there for a long time before she wandered down the hall to the examination room where Adam was being held, under anesthesia. She felt the need to give herself a stern talking-to. What the actual hell was she doing? What lengths was she prepared to go to in order to protect a perfect stranger?

Her burner phone buzzed in her pocket. Only one person had the number, and she knew who it was before she even answered. 

“You made it down safely,” Belle said, even though she knew the story already. She had access to top-secret communication between several key members of the presidential security team, after all. Their own escape pod had apparently been “lost” somewhere north of the America-Canada border. She was relieved to know that their government had been too busy rescuing Maddy (and falsely imprisoning Snow) to pay much attention to the occupants. And it took some digging to discover that Maddy had been escorted to none of the finest hospitals for recovery. “It’s good to hear from you.”

“No one is telling me anything,” Maddy replied. She sounded tense. “I didn’t know if you were…” She sighed. “Remember the bells of Notre Dame? They each have a name.”

Belle hesitated. She knew they would be tracking Maddy’s calls. They had to keep this brief, and Maddy was already speaking in their predetermined code. “I remember.”

“Was your favorite one Marie or Gabriel?” This was Maddy’s way of asking if Belle was somewhere safe.

“Marie.” I’m safe. “But I’ve always been partial to Maurice.” I’ll be changing location soon.

“What about Marcel?” Are you alone?

“No, I prefer Denis.” I’m not alone. 

“Well, that was a fun trip down memory lane. Have we always been such dorks?” Maddy said with a good impression of a genuine laugh. But what she was really saying was: please, be safe. I love you.

Belle managed a soft laugh in return. “Don’t forget about Benoit-Joseph.” I’ll be in touch soon. 

With that, the call ended. Belle took the SIM card out of her burner phone and snapped it in half before depositing it in the hazardous waste trash can. She would dispose of the actual phone in the next dumpster she came across. It was a good thing their president was too cheap to pay for those medical tracking devices in any of their staff members. But she knew time was of the essence once they discovered Adam’s tracking device had pinged off of a nearby cell tower in Canada. 

Adam sighed and rolled his head to the side. His eyes slowly blinked open. He realized he was lying on a medical gurney. The crystal clear blue of his gaze settled on his companion, and she watched as a soft smile tugged at his lips. Belle’s stomach did a full somersault. 

“Were you just talking about bells, lass?”

She shushed him and bit back a smile in reply. “We need to leave.” She reached out and pretended to examine his face closely. “And how would you feel about growing out a beard?”

He reached up and clasped her hand gently. “Anything you say.”

Belle wanted to enjoy this. She wanted to relish the small thrill in the pit of her stomach, but…she still doubted this was genuine. She knew of only one way to find out.

—

“Hey, Rumplestiltskin!”

Snow rolled his eyes. That joke was getting real old, real fast.

“Hey,” the guard said again, tapping the bars of Snow’s jail cell with his heavy baton. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Snow rolled over to his side and stood up. He was a little groggy after a cat nap. There wasn’t much else to do in prison. Not the one he was in, at least. He expected to be guided towards the interrogation room, but the guard poked his shoulder with the baton again. “No, big boy. You’ve got a visitor.” The guard cackled and pushed Snow again towards a different set of rooms.

He was ushered inside and heard the door lock behind him. He blinked in the dim lighting inside. There was a single figure sitting on the bed in the center of the room. This was where the conjugal visits happened, after all. It didn’t need to have many more frills than that. 

“That wig isn’t fooling anyone,” he said, taking a few steps towards her. “But the outfit is…really fetching.”

Maddy just rolled her eyes. She shifted slightly to tug on the too-short mini skirt and the crop top. It was definitely not her style, and neither was the dark brown wig. But the disguise, along with the fake ID, had done its job getting her inside the prison undetected. It would take at least 3 days for the facial recognition to run its course and alert her presence at the prison. But she’d cross that bridge if, and when, she got to it.

“And I’m flattered, Princess. I had no idea you felt this way about me.” He gestured to the bed, and she quickly stood up. The flush on her cheeks was almost as becoming as the revealing outfit. Though, he had to admit it didn’t really suit her at all. 

“I just needed to talk to you somewhere we wouldn’t be recorded.”

He took a step closer and gazed up at her with a distinct spark of mischief in his eyes. “They are legally prohibited from recording audio in here, but…they still get their kicks.” He gestured over his shoulder, and she caught the very faint glint of light against the lens of a mini-cam.

“Shit,” she hissed.

He just took her hand and led her back to the bed. She had the good sense not to snatch her fingers from his grip, knowing that this would look suspicious.

She decided to get straight to the point so they could pretend to argue and put this ridiculous charade to an end. “Well, I’ve been working on the code Zephyr gave us.”

Snow’s brow furrowed in a deep frown. He regarded her closely. “What the hell are you talking about? He was just spouting off nonsense. You said he had dementia.”

“He did. But he still got a message through, at the very last second. ‘I see you. I foresee you.’”

He shook his head. “I don’t…”

“It’s a code to a locker at the Saint Mary train station. I C U I 4 C U.”

“Holy shit.”

They heard a bang on the door followed by laughter. One of the guards was standing outside, hoping to overhear some hanky-panky. Either that or the stiffs in the security office were eager to get this party started. Maddy’s skin crawled at the thought of those sick fucks watching prisoners engage in carnal activities.

“What…the hell are you doing?” Maddy whispered, frozen to the spot when Snow leaned forward and pressed his lips to her exposed shoulder. 

“Gotta put on a little bit of a show, or they’ll cut this visit short,” he said. His breath tickled her skin, and she shivered despite herself. 

Maddy cautiously turned towards him. She placed one hand on his inner thigh and the other on the side of his face. “Why is it I always find myself in compromising situations with you?” She whispered, leaning just a little closer to make it appear (at least from behind) that they were kissing. 

“I think you just can’t resist my charms,” he retorted. The usual swagger and over-confident air was all but gone, however. She saw the way his eyes flickered down to her lips. 

She also told herself that the fluttering in the pit of her stomach was nerves and nothing else. They were being watched. She was in a ridiculous disguise and was forced to touch him this way. But she couldn’t ignore the way his eyes fluttered closed when she ran her fingers down his face, close to the scar and his slightly sunken eye. Her other hand instinctively shifted higher on his thigh, closer to his crotch. He flinched, and she muttered a soft apology. But before she could lean back, he pressed forward and kissed her cheek. His lips moved along her jaw and down the side of her neck. The soft sigh that left her lips was totally involuntary. 

God, when was the last time she had been touched like this? It had nothing to do with the fact that it was Snow touching her.

“Keep going,” he urged.

“What?” Maddy’s mind went temporarily blank when his lips moved across her collarbone. It took her the course of one long breath to return to her prior purpose. “Oh, uh…I have the briefcase. It’s at my safe house. I don’t know the combination.”

“Neither do I,” Snow said. “I need you to lie down now.”

She met his gaze, much closer than she anticipated, and their noses almost bumped together. She let out a soft laugh (nerves again—nothing more) and complied. Soon enough, he was on top of her. They were fully clothed, but he pulled a scratchy woolen blanket over their bodies so they were hidden from view. The slight undulating motion he made was likely convincing enough to satisfy any onlookers. 

“I watched the surveillance footage from the night Phoebus was killed. Frollo thought he saw you shoot your friend. But there’s a mirrored closet door in that hotel room, and if it’s opened just right…”

“Shit, that’s clever,” he said. He continued to press his lips along any exposed skin around her neck and face while avoiding her lips. He needed her to talk, after all. He needed—not to get too excited. 

But holy shit, she was just so soft beneath him. Her arms had gone around his waist instinctively, and he was certain her nails were digging into his back. And it had been so long for him. She didn’t smell like sweat, fear, and that concoction of engine grease he had put in her shortened hair on MS One. She smelled like floral soap and a faint but expensive perfume. 

Expensive…she was the president’s daughter, after all. 

He suddenly leaned back and gazed down at her. “Why are you going to all this trouble for me?”

She stared right back at him. There was almost a challenge in her eyes as she said, “I can’t just sit back and watch a man get punished for something he didn’t do.”

“So, I’m just one of your causes. Is that it?”

She frowned. “If that’s how you want to think about it, then…sure. But you also saved my life.”

“Then, we’re even.” He leaned away from her and stopped moving.

“Not quite, asshole.” She suddenly put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled his face down against her shoulder. Then, she put on the performance of a lifetime. It sounded like something straight out of an adult film as she writhed against him under the covers. She cried out his name over and over. She said things like “give it to me,” and “God, you’re so big.” Then, she screamed in exaggerated ecstasy.

Snow might have been turned on if he wasn’t stifling his laughter in her scratchy wig. This was all so insane. They lay there, panting in earnest and catching their breath. 

“One last thing,” she whispered into his ear. “Someone else spoke to Zephyr shortly before you got there. I only have a photo from the back and from blurry security camera footage. How do I get it to you?”

He bent down to kiss her cheek and even moved close enough so that his lips touched the edge of hers. “Come see me tomorrow, as yourself. Not this abomination.” He leaned back to stare at the ridiculous wig and the top of the skimpy outfit she was wearing. 

She frowned. “I just got my freedom back.”

He reached out, only just now seeing the edge of a bandage peeking out from the quarter-sleeve sheer top she wore. Her medical tracking chip was gone. He felt a sting of regret, knowing that this was their only choice. “It’s the only way. If you come again, they’ll be suspicious.”

She gave him a devilish smirk. “Want me to come again, just to give you a little more clout in the shower room?”

“Jesus Christ,” he said, stifling another laugh. “You are something else, Princess.”

She was a little flushed, and so was he, when they heard some more banging on the door.

“Time to go, lover boy,” the guard called out. 

Snow turned to say something to her at the same time she impulsively leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Their lips collided in earnest this time. Maddy’s first instinct should have been to recoil, but instead she moved forward again to kiss him for real. Snow breathed in sharply before she felt him lean into the touch. His lips danced over hers for one brief, sweet moment before the door to the room flew open. 

Maddy didn’t have to make a show of looking disheveled, and neither did Snow. Their clothes were a wrinkled mess. It was convincing enough, because the guard smirked at Snow as he guided Maddy out of the room. He even punched the shorter man in the arm, with begrudging respect. She gave Snow one last glance before she was escorted towards the front of the heavily-guarded fortress that housed some of the worst criminals (i.e. the ones who had committed crimes directly against the president and his minions). He winked at her, and she felt herself grin for the first time in weeks. 

She’d be back in a few days. Time was of the essence, since the president was eager to fast-track Snow’s trial, in the wake of MS One’s PR nightmare.

Chapter Text

Belle made a series of calls, and Adam was surprised to witness a hearse rolling through the gates of her safe house. From his vantage point (hidden away in the bedroom), he was even more surprised to witness a middle-aged man stepping out of the car to open the rear hatch. There was no mistaking the object in the long black bag. 

“Victor! What a delight to see you again,” she said, giving the man a kiss on either cheek. 

Adam wasn’t close enough to overhear everything that was said, but he distinctly heard some discussion about dental implants on the “John Doe.” 

Belle seemed saddened and expressed remorse, but Victor assured her that the man was a complete unknown. “We have records of his cremation on file already, my dear. If anyone else matches the DNA we gathered from him, we will happily deliver some ashes to the grieving family. To provide closure.”

Still, Belle was frowning. She said nothing more as she passed a thick envelope into the man’s hands. “I would say it’s a pleasure doing business with you, but…” She shrugged, and Victor just patted her on the back.

“Enjoy your vacation,” Victor said over his shoulder as he stepped into the hearse. “I know I will.” With that, he waved the envelope full of cash before driving through the many gates around the property.

Adam only reappeared from the back room once the car had disappeared from view. He entered the living room to find a grisly sight. The pale corpse of a man was being handcuffed to an exposed radiator pipe by Belle herself. She turned her head, and Adam was certain she was fighting back a gag.

He took a hesitant step forward. “Isn’t this a bit excessive?”

She took a long, steady breath. “It’s the only way. They need to think you’re dead. They need to think your brother Michael is dead. Otherwise, you’ll be just as fucked as Snow is. They’ll make you the villain. Again.”

Without a word, she grabbed a suitcase that was already packed and waiting by the front door and gestured for Adam to follow her outside. She stopped to type a few commands into a tablet mounted to the wall. A shrill alarm sounded, and Adam was certain he smelled gasoline. 

Sure enough, the moment Belle shut the door, he saw the flash of flames igniting inside. She grabbed his arm and dragged him down the driveway towards the waiting car he didn’t recognize—what appeared to be a brand new pickup truck. She didn’t get into the driver’s seat, however. She opened the door and held it for Adam.

He was perplexed and just gazed at her. “I’m not leavin’ without you.”

She shook her head at him. She wished she could remove the part of her heart that soared at the very idea. “I have to stay here and give my report about how The Beast captured me and took the escape pod. I have to tell them that he held me at gunpoint and forced me to take him to my safe house. That my only course of action was to trap him and burn the place to the ground.”

Adam couldn’t resist reaching up and tucking a strand of her dark hair behind one ear. “Where am I headed next?” 

Her face shifted into something sad. “You can go wherever you like. The paperwork is all ready for you. There’s a private plane waiting at the airport. The GPS is…” She paused when he framed her face with both of his hands. 

“And where will you go, lass?”

She had trouble meeting his gaze, and once she did, she couldn’t resist leaning forward and kissing him tenderly on the lips. It was another illogical response but one that seemed ingrained in her very DNA. She longed for him in a way she’d never felt towards anyone else. It was definitely unhealthy. Her therapist would have a thing or two to say about this relationship, or…whatever it was. He kissed back, but not as if he was a man starving for just any feminine touch. She felt that same longing in his kiss. All of this was insane. Illogical. 

“Where will you go?” He repeated.

“I have to stay here for a while.”

“I hope you’ll come find me when you’re done.”

She swallowed. “How will I know where?”

He reached behind her and took the phone out of her back pocket. He kept himself wrapped around her as he typed something into her notes app. He replaced the phone and bent down to kiss her again—soft, sweet, and slow. Then, he stepped into the car and was gone. 

Belle knew that the logical reaction would be to assume that his tenderness towards her had been fueled by mere gratitude. He had gotten what he needed from her (freedom and a new life). But she knew to the core of her being that there was something else. Her Beast was not one to toy with affections. 

She gave him a 15 minute head start before she walked to the parked Land Rover. At the last moment, she grabbed a rock from the driveway and hit herself a few times around the mouth and jaw, adding a few new bruises and a cut to the old ones she’d incurred while on MS One. It would be convincing enough to Laverne, who would have to do just one last favor for her friend. She had to complete the ruse, after all. And then she, too, would be free. 

—

As awkward as the encounter had been, Snow was grateful towards Maddy. And it was more than the fact that she was willingly sticking her neck out for him. The attitude shift at the prison was subtle but noticeable. He was permitted a few extra minutes in the sunshine (such as it was in the polluted, smoggy city), and he wasn’t tormented as much in the mess hall. Though, his fellow inmates and the guards still enjoyed throwing around nicknames and rumors. The latest was about the dwarf pleasuring his “Snow White.” He ignored it. 

The nicknames all but stopped the following day when he was brought to an interrogation room to meet with none other than Maddy Sarousch, the president’s daughter. 

“It’s good to see you,” he quipped as he was guided to a seat and cuffed to the tabletop. 

She smirked. She knew what he meant. It’s good to see you as yourself.

“Is that really necessary?” She said, gesturing to the cuffs.

The gruff security officer frowned first at Snow and then at the one-way mirror. 

“Do as she says,” a familiar voice buzzed through the overhead speaker.

Maddy had enough covert connections in the prison to learn that Frollo had made himself a bit of a pest at the prison. Ever since he’d authorized Snow’s arrest, he seemed intent on torturing Snow with endless hours-long interrogation sessions that went nowhere. Snow had to guess that the man was bored out of his skull, since the news continued to repeat the same worthless drivel about the MS One disaster and the president’s “devastation” over the loss. Snow was a footnote and not interesting enough to gain real traction as the “true” villain in their contrived press releases.

Snow winked and even made a kissy-face at the gruff security guard, who looked as though he wanted to punch the shorter man in the face. 

“I see you’re making all sorts of friends, as usual,” Maddy teased.

He fixed his gaze on her, and she saw the subtle shift in his expression. He was relieved to see her. Maybe even happy. It sent a funny little thrill up and down her spine. She quite literally held his fate in her hands. It was a huge responsibility. But it made her realize that if the man in front of her had no merit whatsoever, she wouldn’t have gone to such lengths. He was a sarcastic, over-compensating asshole at the best of times. 

And at the worst…in those unexpectedly soft moments yesterday in the conjugal visit room…

Maddy cleared her throat. She was determined to ignore the hot flush creeping up her neck. “I brought you some reading material.”

He glanced down at the book in her hands, and then he glared at it. 

Maddy had thought it would be funny. A little dig at his current predicament and the nicknames that were being thrown around in the prison. But in hindsight, Grimm’s Book of Fairy Tales wasn’t the best choice. Not when Snow was this close to losing everything—quite possibly his life, if Sarousch felt it would make the President look any better. 

He grabbed it and flipped through the pages. Illustrations peered back at him, and he only paused when he reached a specific page. She watched him closely, but he didn’t give anything away as he peered down at the print-out of the security footage. Though, she was certain she saw a spark of recognition in his eyes. 

“Think you can take care of this for me?” She asked. “Hopefully it’ll keep you company, since you’re stuck here for the foreseeable future.”

His lips twisted into a wry smile. “Sure. I know exactly what to do with this.”

Maddy got the message. So, he recognized the man in the photo. And he’d get the ball rolling with the appropriate parties. He pressed his finger to the corner of the folded picture, and it disintegrated into a fine powder, which landed on the table. He blocked the tabletop from view and quickly wiped a name into the powder with the tip of his finger. And before the nearby guard could intervene, Snow had already wiped the powder onto the floor. 

Maddy just smiled at him. “I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but…” She shrugged.

“I know you were just coming by to ease your conscience, princess. And seeing your pretty face was thanks enough.”

She rolled her eyes and pretended to find the compliment insulting. With that, she stood and declared the visit was over. She was escorted out of the room. She glanced back just one more time, and it was impossible to ignore the way he was openly checking out her ass. She flipped him the bird and was gratified to see a real smile on his face.

Frollo was waiting to talk to her, as she expected. In fact, she was hoping for just such a rendezvous.

“Your father has been beside himself, worrying about you. He didn’t know where you’d gone,” he said, guiding her down the hall towards the private entrance in the back of the building. She had no doubt that a car and her bodyguard were already waiting for her outside. Sarousch would have gotten word immediately from his little lackey, Frollo.

“I wanted some space to sort through things. Alone. Surely you understand.”

He frowned but nodded his head. “And this little visit to Snow…were you really just clearing your conscience? One last look at a dead man?”

She stopped and turned to face him. Thankfully, his usual bodyguards had stepped away to ensure Snow was taken back to his cell without incident (he’d been known to antagonize his fellow inmates and had almost started a riot a few days prior). “You know, Snow always suspected Zephyr was working with someone else. Or that he was being blackmailed into compliance. That the meeting at the Saint Mary station was a set-up.”

Frollo frowned, but he didn’t say anything immediately to refute it.

“And he’s just told me who the contact was. I think you’d see Snow a little differently if you knew there was someone else pulling all the strings to make him look like the bad guy. Someone other than my own father, of course.”

He didn’t like this at all. He disliked Snow, and it was easy enough for him to believe what Sarousch had decided to tell the press and the world at large, if they were even listening. Besides, it was easy to pin everything on Snow. He was the perfect fall guy. A disgraced former government operative who he already suspected had killed his partner, Phoebus. 

“Just take a look at this.” She passed a thumb drive into his palm. “And if you have even the slightest doubt about his guilt, you’ll do as he says tomorrow.”

Maddy didn’t like Frollo, but she had to believe he was the type to leave no stone unturned. She just hoped the evidence she compiled was enough to convince him.

She exited the building and was immediately accosted by her bodyguard. She reluctantly entered the car and was escorted to her father’s safe house at the edge of the city. Her brief stint of freedom was well and truly over. Unless, of course, Snow was successful tomorrow.

—

Snow was surprised when he was escorted to the interrogation room the next day. He half expected Frollo to be there, gloating about how their little scheme hadn’t worked in the slightest. About how Snow was still going to take the blame for everything.

Instead, he was greeted by someone else.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Snow said as he shook Clopin’s hand.

Clopin gave him a sheepish look. “I’ve been busy trying to clear your name.”

Snow resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That was a blatant lie. “Thanks for that.”

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Clopin asked. There was an eager gleam in his eyes. 

Snow turned and snapped his fingers at the burly security guard behind them. “Giles, my good man. Would you bring in the briefcase?”

Clopin could hardly contain his excitement. “You tracked it down? I’m impressed. Seeing as Zephyr’s mind was fried by the time you found him.”

Snow’s easy going smile tightened. Instead, he just watched Clopin’s face contort into a look of suppressed anticipation as the briefcase was brought into the room and placed on the table between them. He immediately lifted his hands and fiddled with the dial. But his excitement faded when he realized the case was empty. He realized his mistake too late.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

“What I don’t understand is how you knew the combination,” Snow said. “Seeing as Zephyr probably didn’t even know it to begin with—before his brain was scrambled.”

The door opened, and Frollo strolled in. Clopin’s face paled, and a sheen of sweat was at his brow. “You knew the combination, but you didn’t know where the briefcase was,” Frollo said, reveling in the moment even though he’d only changed his tune about Snow less than 24 hours ago. “I think you should stay here so we can ask you a few questions, Agent Clopin.”

Clopin said nothing. His expression said enough. He knew he’d royally fucked up. Blown his cover and ruined any chance at assigning the blame to anyone else. 

“Well. This is awkward,” Clopin finally said as he settled back into his chair with a resigned sigh.

“Did he pay you well? And by ‘he’ I mean the President,” Snow said. The muscle in his jaw was flexed tight. He couldn’t hold back his anger.

“As a matter of fact, he did.”

Snow shook his head. “Was Phoebus’s life worth it? What about Zephyr’s?”

Clopin scoffed. “The number doesn’t even matter, Snow.”

Snow stood up and turned to face Frollo. “You can give this asshole my cell.”

Frollo’s smile was humorless as he stepped aside, allowing Snow to step past him into the hall. But he called him back with one last statement. “All this trouble for an empty briefcase?”

Snow smirked. “Don’t let it keep you up at night.”

Frollo’s eyes narrowed briefly, and then he just nodded his head. It wasn’t an apology, but it was something. Begrudging respect, perhaps. 

Snow said goodbye to the guards and inmates on his way out, none of whom were happy to see their little “hunchback” or “Rumplestiltskin” being released unjustifiably, in their minds. He grabbed what few personal possessions he was permitted to retrieve (minus the weapons, of course), and soon enough, he was breathing the outside air again. He was fuming and still pissed off, but at least he was a free man. 

He pulled out a cigarette he managed to bum off of a guard earlier that day and grabbed Phoebus’s lighter from his pocket. Thank God they hadn’t destroyed it or hocked it for quick cash. He guessed they thought it was a useless piece of sentimental junk. In all his hours cooped up in a tiny cell, he’d had a sudden brainwave. It was the reason Phoebus had been so insistent that Snow take the lighter—for the secret compartment inside that contained a digital copy of all the secrets Sarousch was so eager to destroy. It was enough to buy Snow his freedom for the rest of his natural life. 

God, he missed Phoebus. He missed Zephyr, too. It hit him like a fresh blow to the chest, knowing that they had lost their lives in the vain hope that Snow might possibly get out of his latest scrape unscathed. 

He knew one thing for sure. He needed a damn vacation.

“I know something about you.”

He spun around and almost dropped his cigarette in surprise. He was either distracted or losing his touch, because he hadn’t seen her at all. 

Maddy smirked and took a step closer. “It’s amazing what you can find out as First Daughter. Last name Snow, first name…Marion.”

He sighed. “My old man was a big John Wayne fan.”

“Must have been tough on the playground.”

He actually laughed—a genuine, belly-shaking laugh. “Among other reasons.” He made a vague gesture towards himself. “But it’s why I’m so lovable.”

She ignored this for the moment. “You’re a free man.”

“Thanks to you.”

“What kind of Robin Hood would I be if I didn’t rescue a Maid Marion once in a while?”

He rolled his eyes, but she was convinced he was blushing. “Okay, you can stop that. Snow’s just fine.”

She put a hand on her hip and bent down a little so they were closer to eye-level. “I’m just getting used to it, though. I kind of like Marion.”

“Oh, yeah?” He said, his smirk turning into a real smile. She was awfully close to him.

“I have something for you.”

He was about to ask what it was, but he didn’t want to jinx it. He was either going insane or he thought maybe she was going to kiss him.

Instead, her fist came flying out of nowhere and punched him in the jaw. They both recoiled with a hiss of pain. He was actually impressed with the force of her punch. Though, he really needed to get out of the habit of underestimating Maddy. That was the most dangerous game to play.

“I had that coming,” he admitted, rubbing at his jaw. 

She smirked and rubbed at her hand, which would be sporting some nice bruises along the knuckles in a few days. Totally worth it. “I thought we should start things off on equal footing.”

She turned and walked away, and Snow couldn’t help following her. Not when her words were so inviting. Start things off…

“Hey, where’s your entourage?” He asked, glancing around once he’d caught up with her. 

“I gave them the slip. I’ll have to thank you for teaching me that.” She smiled down at him and walked down to the next block. 

He couldn’t stop looking at her as they strolled side by side. He also couldn’t stop his old self-doubts from creeping in and ruining things. “I have a feeling your dad won’t approve of this. I mean, do you really expect this to last?”

Maddy was in the mood to tease him, even though he was probably still reeling from being released from prison. Still, she couldn’t help herself. “Depends on how good you are in bed.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Well, in that case, I give it at least 10 minutes.”

Maddy laughed as she guided them across the street. Apparently, she was taking them bowling.

And dammit if she didn’t beat him at the game. For the first time in an embarrassingly long time, he realized he didn’t care. Not when he made her laugh again by throwing the ball “like a granny” (between his legs). 

Chapter Text

Belle knew it wasn’t a good idea. Even after she had gone through all the usual checks and balances, and then a few more. She knew she wasn’t going to be followed. She sent in her resignation (claiming “psychological issues due to trauma”—which was partly true), and the higher-ups didn’t even question it. Neither did Maddy, though she put up an impressive fuss to throw her father off the scent. They were still best friends, after all, and they were both grieving the loss of their other mutual friend, Gaston. 

Belle made sure to attend the funeral, but she had to get out of there before the reporters caught wind of her presence. She wasn’t in the mood to answer a ton of questions. She had to get out of town.

And that was how she found herself flying to a small town in Wales that she could hardly spell let alone pronounce. It was how she ended up asking questions at the local pub and learning everything she needed to know. Gossip traveled like wildfire in small towns. But thank goodness the townsfolk weren’t known for fact-checking their gossip.

She started second-guessing herself as she approached a humble abode nestled in a grove of trees. Maybe he would change his tune the moment he saw her. Maybe he would tell her that he had been using her all along to gain his freedom. 

But before she even had a chance to catch her breath, the door flew open, and she was crushed in an embrace. Adam’s scent was so familiar to her that she went willingly into his arms. She clung to him like he was her lifeline. It was a strange feeling to realize she barely knew him but to know that this was precisely where she belonged. 

Just as suddenly, he released her so that he could grab her bags and pull both her luggage and Belle through the door. They stood in front of each other in the dim overhead lighting of a low ceilinged hallway. 

“I heard about the funeral for your friend,” he said at last. “I’m so sorry, lass.”

She just nodded her head. They both had lost a great deal as a result of MS One. For Adam, he had relinquished his freedom to protect a beloved brother. And she knew enough to read between the lines of the rumors. “Your brother…the real Michael. What happened to him?”

Adam’s brilliant blue eyes welled with tears. “Cancer. A slow death that he wanted to keep hidden from everyone. He didn’t tell a soul and sent himself off to live his last days quietly. Alone.”

She reached for him and held his hand. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “He was a bastard and a cheat, but he didn’t deserve a lonely death like that.”

Even after all that had been taken from Adam—years of his life, his dignity, his entire identity—he spoke in defense of his twin brother. She hadn’t been wrong about his character. Adam had a true heart of gold, beneath all that fake gruffness, beneath the “Beast” persona. 

“Sal, his wife, didn’t tell a soul. Just said that ‘Adam’ had moved off to live with a new girl in the city. No one really questioned it.”

Belle wanted to ask him whether he planned to stay in his hometown, whether he intended to continue the ruse of being an alternate version of himself. Adam, the ‘good’ twin who had stayed behind while his brother Michael was sent to live on MS One with his accomplice, David—Jekyll and Hyde, reunited and imprisoned all at once.

She wanted to ask Adam why he had taken his brother’s place. 

But for the moment, all they wanted to do was to touch, to feel, to forget for a few minutes or hours. They wanted each other, and it was impossible to ignore this strange pull any longer. 

They moved at the same moment, colliding in a heated kiss that turned even more passionate when Adam pulled Belle into his arms and carried her to his small bedroom. They crashed on top of the covers in a tangle of limbs. Clothes were removed with clumsy, trembling fingers. Belle’s hands wandered across his warm skin, seeking purchase wherever she could find it. His calloused fingers crested across her smooth skin with reverent tenderness. But the passion in his kisses was becoming more insistent, as was his obvious physical excitement. 

He pulled back for a moment, breathless and shaking. “Belle…lass, it’s been—so long.”

She groaned and shifted her hips against him. The lack of friction was going to be the death of her. “Please, Adam. Just take me. My beast…”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He took. She received, with enthusiasm. And after they recovered, they spent the rest of night learning each other’s bodies. Belle decided she was done worrying about her state of mind and if she was insane to have wanted him so badly, even after everything. She was done second-guessing and fearing judgment. Not when he whispered her name in the midst of their passion, like he was reciting a prayer. It felt like the perfect footnote to a chaotic beginning.

—

Maddy was given a first-hand account of that first time. She and Belle maintained regular contact on their burner phones. Since Maddy was back in her father’s “good” graces, she had managed to blackmail her way into some limited freedom throughout the week. It allowed her to see Snow fairly often. But they were moving at a much slower pace than Bella and Adam.

“You haven’t kissed him yet?”

“We already did,” Maddy argued.

“That didn’t count. You were playing a part.” Belle paused. “You must really have it bad for this guy, because you’ve never second-guessed yourself like this in the past.”

Maddy scoffed, but it was mostly to hide the fact that Belle had her pegged. She knew her too well. “Isn’t initiating the first kiss something the guy is supposed to do?”

“Not always,” Belle retorted. “Besides, he’s probably intimidated as hell. You’re the President’s daughter, after all.”

Maddy was about to argue that Snow didn’t get intimidated by many things in life. But…she had to wonder if her friend was right. Snow was overly cautious around her lately, and he hardly touched her unless it was necessary. Initially, she chalked it up to the fact that Frollo was breathing down Snow’s neck for every single blessed detail about his covert operations with Phoebus and Zephyr. It had to be exhausting going over the same facts day in and day out. But there was another part of her that wondered if his egotistical attitude towards her had been a defensive mechanism. Something he had adopted and crafted over years of being bullied or maligned for his stature and his face. 

She also had to admit that Belle was right. She hadn’t felt this much anxiety over a man before. Snow had been a different story since the beginning. 

Finally, after 3 weeks of lengthy interrogations, it seemed like Frollo had gotten what he needed. Clopin’s trial was set to take place in a month, and there were rumors about some “big secret” that would possibly link the President to the MS One disaster. Maddy had already prepared accordingly. She had her own private checking account as well as a stash of money at her own apartment in town. 

And Maddy took Belle’s words to heart. She made plans to meet up with Snow. In fact, she went against protocol and gave him the address to her secret apartment (which, she was certain not even her father or his security team knew about). 

“Why, Marion, it’s so lovely to see you,” she said as she escorted him through the door.

He rolled his eyes. “You really love that, don’t you?”

She laughed. “I just feel like I’ve unlocked the source of your power. Like Rumplestiltskin.”

He frowned. “Yeah, well life isn’t like the fairy tales, princess.”

She realized she had hit a sore spot. Maybe she should cool it with the nicknames for now. She wanted to pursue the subject a little deeper, especially with the way he had dropped the whole comedian routine. There was a bitter edge to his quips tonight. 

Instead, she just gestured to the kitchen, which was part of the living room. “Alright, Snow. Supper’s ready.”

He was so surprised that she had cooked for him that he didn’t have a clever retort prepared. Admittedly, he didn’t feel up to his usual brash attitude tonight. They ate side by side on the pull-out couch, which was all she had room for in the tiny apartment, while she flipped through fuzzy TV channels (through a stolen cable box from a friendly neighbor downstairs). She settled on a bland sitcom with an irritating laugh track.

But after a long period of silence, she turned and faced Snow on the couch. “What’s with you tonight?”

“What do you mean? What if this is the ‘real’ me? No pretense. No bullshit. Just…me.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re all bullshit.”

He finally met her gaze. “Listen, I didn’t have to come here just because you were lonely.”

She set her dirty dish on the narrow coffee table and held up her hands in mock surrender. “Wow, you’re in rare form tonight.”

He was. He couldn’t stop the bitterness from spewing out of him like bile. Years of pain hit him in the center of his chest with fresh pain. “I don’t know why you’re spending all this time with me. I saved your life, and you saved mine. We’re even.”

She just stared at him in a way that made him want to crawl away and hide. “I thought you were having a good time.”

It was true. He had actually allowed himself to enjoy their time together, to forget and ignore the pointed glances from people clearly recognizing he was dating far, far, far outside his dating pool. That was, until Frollo made a comment in passing today. “I was,” he admitted. He saw the crestfallen look on her face and hated that he was the reason for it. “Listen, I should go.”

She reached out and gripped his wrist. He was strong enough to get out of it, but he wouldn't move, not when she had willingly touched him. “You’re not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

He finally turned and met her gaze. She was seated but just below eye-level with him while he stood in front of her. The symmetry and beauty of her features was a stark reminder of his own flaws. “What the hell do you want with me? I’m a disgraced government agent turned informant. And I’m…me.”

She tightened her grip on his wrist. She was worried he was going to make a run for it. And he was much faster and stronger than she was, so it would be pointless to try and stop him. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t give a shit about your own insecurities. I know you act all tough, but you just want to be seen and loved like the rest of us.”

He opened his mouth to protest (even though she was right, dammit), but she leaned forward and kissed him. And just in case he had any doubts, she shifted her body on the couch so her knees were on either side of him, trapping him there. She leaned forward and kissed him again. 

He was frozen—immovable as a stone statue. But when she leaned back and her breath ghosted across his cheek, he suddenly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back. He pressed against her warmth, her willingness, her perfect mouth over and over. God, it felt so good to be close to her again. And this time, she wasn’t writhing around under him making noises like she was in a second-rate porno. Though, the idea of eliciting those noises on his own merit was enough to get him excited.

She leaned back and gazed at him through heavily-lidded eyes. “Are you done being an asshole?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Probably not.” With that, he stepped forward and pushed her down onto the couch. 

Maddy wanted to offer a sarcastic retort, but she was immediately distracted with the way he kissed her—slowly, passionately, and with definite intent. His kisses traveled down her neck and across her bare collarbone above her shirt. Suddenly, she wasn’t wearing a shirt anymore. And her pants had become unzipped. Then, she was lost in the feeling of his hands and lips moving across her womanhood. She came twice before she finally pushed him away and moved so she was straddling him. 

His expression changed into uncertainty again. 

“Shut up,” she said preemptively. It was her turn to unzip his pants. 

“Maddy…”

“Shut up,” she repeated, once she had divested him of his clothes. She was quick to follow. She was on top of him again, and they sighed at the feeling of skin against skin. 

Then, they were moving together. A familiar dance of bodies. Maddy had a sudden, wicked thought…

“You’re so big,” she whispered.

He actually laughed. Then, he shoved and pinned her to the couch again. He set a brutal pace, and she loved it.

Strangely enough, she loved him. There was a look in his eyes that told her he felt the same way, too. Even after everything. Even despite his own issues around his appearance and self-worth. 

As for Maddy, she just lay back and let the pleasure wash over her again. 

Their thoughts were miles away from the MS One disaster—an entire ozone away. 

Later, on her regular phone call with Belle, they mused about their circumstances. How things had changed so drastically. Their losses and gains. Life wasn’t a fairy tale—it never would be. But at least they had managed to carve out some happiness for themselves in a broken world.