Chapter Text
The plan was simple really, she would break into Maddox’s workshop, find the stuff on the list, check to make sure they weren’t too harmful, then come back.
The way to the workshop was shadowed. Clouded by darkness that mirrored her mind as she walked the faded trail.
Getting out of the palace was a lot less thought out. She had simply locked the cellar door behind her and unceremoniously stuffed herself through a second story window.
That route was already cemented into her mind. It had acted as her escape years ago, and now served the same purpose.
She remembered it clearly. Her mother’s cries. Red’s cries. And her own exhaustion.
Taking care of the two of them was tiring work. Especially as she had to push down the waves of resentment.
She was growing more and more agitated by the day. How could she.
Red, she understood. Her mother had twisted her father’s death story when telling Red in order to soften the blow.
But her mother. She knew. She knew every gruesome, unpleasant detail. She knew he wanted Pink there. Yet she still cried.
She still fell apart. But when Pink dared to show a crack in her act. A simple sign of sadness. She was told to hold it together.
Her mind swirled with hypocrisy so intense she couldn’t even recognise it.
And that’s when Pink would turn to the window.
Some nights, when it all became too much, she would jump from there.
The dirt gave a soft enough landing, and the thrill of the height was enough to feel something.
Then she would run. She would run through the woods. Drinking up the peace as she escaped to somewhere she didn’t even know. The dark comforted her in a way.
She liked it.
She would often stay out until morning, then walk back through the front door, not caring about being seen.
Her mother would critique her either way. It all didn’t matter.
Now here she was, a few feet from the workshop, the darkness doing little to comfort her racing mind.
Time travel. What?
It had to be nothing. Just another one of his mad ideas… right?
But he had seemed so sure. So… sane.
She must have imagined it. There was no other explanation.
But why? She was tired. It was getting close to 1am at this point. Time trickling away as she kept getting closer to Maddox’s front door.
Sure. That must be it. Pure exhaustion. So that’s what she told herself. She told herself this as she reached into her bag. She told herself this as she found a loose hairpin. She told herself this as she picked the lock on his front door.
And she told it to her self one more time as she pushed it open before stepping inside.
She had learnt to pick locks a while ago as a way to pass the time. She spent hours practising around the castle, getting increasingly quicker as she went. It was a good thing all of her bags were littered with hair pins.
She couldn’t risk not looking perfect in public after all.
Inside the workshop was nothing like she expected. It was an absolute mess.
She had expected some upkeep being needed, with the place being empty for so long, but not this.
Shelves along with their contents littered the floor. Dust had taken over in droves, winning a war no one else had bothered to fight.
Books were scattered around, but none of this was as bad as the middle of the room.
A jumble of metal and broken glass lay broken and defeated in a hunch to the side of a circular table. It had clearly been knocked off… but how?
The machine was big and looked heavy enough, so was this an accident? She wasn’t sure.
The air felt stale. It was too still.
The place had almost been preserved in disarray, but that wasn’t going to stop her.
She took out the note Maddox had given her and began hunting for the supplies. It was no surprise that it was a tedious task, with half of the supplies being thrown to the floor, but she managed.
She spent no longer than 30 minutes in the place before she was walking out. Her bag now filled with test tubes and vials as well as a few glass bottles filled with liquid she was ultimately unable to identify.
She had begun to look into each chemical only to find that all of Maddox’s books mirrored the chicken scratch from the one in the archives. So in the end she reluctantly decided to take the risk.
She didn’t trust Maddox but he was her only lead so unfortunately she had to try.
She was approaching the palace once more, the guards just barely coming into view, when she remembered the last thing he had said to her.
The bushes.
She backtracked along the path and made her way towards the royal gardens. Once there she approached the bushes. There were five of them lined up identically situated against the stone walls blocking off the garden.
Oddly enough no guards were posted there, instead enchantments guarded the gate, locking it securely. So Pink was able to root around without being spotted.
She searched through the first bush aimlessly. She had knelt down in the grass in order to lean into it. She had no idea what she was looking for. An object? A note? She didn’t know.
She came up with nothing for the first three and was honestly loosing hope until the fourth.
When combing through the thick brambles at the bottom of the bush she found something peculiar. A small metal handle, fused into the floor. It looked relatively new. Not rusted like most metal left outside.
Hesitantly, she pulled the handle upwards.
What it revealed shocked her. The bush lifted up as if on hinges to reveal a ladder, that lead down into a dark passageway.
It was a trapdoor. And she had a guess where it lead. Not wanting to be spotted, she climbed down without a second thought. She noticed the underside had a similar handle that she tugged closed.
Inside was cold. She heard her breathing echo through the dirt walls. She felt around in her pocket and pulled out her torch.
She clicked it to life and shone it forwards. The passage stretched on further than she thought.
She took one more moment to compose herself before starting her walk.
She didn’t have many thoughts when travelling through the tunnel. She had been actively blocking them out instead, choosing emptiness over stressing over mad theories and possibilities.
These ideas were trying to make their way back in, when she reached the end of the passage way.
She was met with a stone wall, the same handle planted firmly inside of it. Clearly they had been installed by the same person. She took one more breath before pulling the handle, and watching the stone come towards her as it swung open.
Pink stepped through on shaky feet. The door shut behind her as she looked around. She was met with the familiar sight of the cellar. She clicked off her torch as she turned to face the opening she had just come from.
To the ordinary eye it just looked like a stone wall. But now that she was looking she saw it.
The whole wall was littered with cracks and damage and there, hidden in plain sight was the outline of a small door.
A voice snapped her out of her thoughts, “I see you found my son’s work.”
Her head sound round as she was met with Maddox. He was a lot more put together, clearly expecting her arrival this time.
“Max did this?”
“Oh yes. He was sick of having a guard looming over his back every time he came to visit, so he finished that around a month ago.”
Honestly, Pink was impressed. “Pretty new addition then.”
“It’s worked in the time it has been here. I suspect you will keep my secret in exchange for yours.”
Maddox’s eyes scanned her face for any sign of resistance. Instead they were met with… something else. Pink’s usual smile was gone, replaced with the same energy she carried earlier that night. She didn’t have the anger or ferocity in her eyes anymore, just blankness.
It was a normal, blank expression. And that is what was shocking. Her whole life she had never had that. Her default setting was a smile and a cheery attitude, so to see this. It was strange.
Her reply was just as normal. “Obviously.”
“Good to hear, now. Did you bring it?”
“Yeah, here you go.” She began to empty the contents of her bag, slotting each item through the enchanted bars of his cell, even giving him the book she had stolen.
There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again, “is that all you need?”
Maddox looked up from where he was calmly, yet efficiently organising his supplies.
“No, I need a drop of blood, from you.”
He handed her back a test tube and she took it without complaint.
“From where?”
“Anywhere, it doesn’t matter.”
Upon hearing that she took the hairpin from her pocket. Not the most sanitary, having just been used to pick an old lock but desperate times called for desperate measures.
She pricked her finger and let the blood drip into the tube.
It ran red along the glass and she passed it back.
Maddox was now set up, his vials filled with liquids of different colours. She watched as he tipped the drop of blood into a light blue one.
It instantly turned a harsh shade of black and Maddox’s brows furrowed as he cross referenced with the book.
He began mixing other chemicals with the solution, each time it would fizzle into the same soul-sucking shade of black. She tried not to focus on him working, instead letting her eyes wander along the rest of the cellar.
Upon a second glance she realised that most of the cells were empty. A few contained sleeping prisoners, but not near Maddox’s cell.
As if hearing her thoughts Maddox chimed in, “they didn’t think it was safe having people near by to conspire with.”
Pink’s voice came back smaller than intended, “oh. That’s harsh.”
“That’s your mother.” Maddox sounded mocking, as if he was delivering information that she didn’t already know. As if he was acting out by insinuating her mother was cruel, little did he know…
Pink’s voice was stronger this time as she let out a sound, half a scoff half a laugh, “believe me. I know.”
Her answer made Maddox’s smirk fade as he looked up from his work from the first time. Her voice sounded stranger this time. More real. More raw. Those four words carried more true emotion than he had ever heard.
Before being banished to the isle, him and max had been close with the royal family. Bridget and Maddox were friends. They would drink tea together whilst the three children played. They were close.
Pink had never been anything other than sweet. It was who everyone in wonderland saw her as. And when he got back from the isle, nothing had changed. But here she was. Conspiring with a criminal and seemingly spiralling. Yet she still seemed more human than he had ever seen the royal family.
Sensing his confusion, Pink carried on, “I mean, do you really think I’d be here if I could go to her about any of this shit.” Her voice twisted into a sarcastic upbeat tone as she added, “cause I can tell you right now I wouldn’t.”
Her tone shifted once more as she adjusted how she was sat on the grimy cellar floors. It morphed into an agitated one, clearly ranting about something she thought deeply about.
“Nothing is ever good enough for her. As long as I’m not Red. I’m not good enough for her. I don’t even know why she had another kid if she didn’t even want it.” Her voice escalated to a louder whisper, “I mean she named me Pink, for starters. How am I supposed to be taken seriously like that. I only dress this way because it’s how she was when she was younger. I thought maybe, if I dress like she was, was always nice, was always sweet like she was. Then maybe she’ll make more of an effort.”
Her voice broke with something like sadness, but more tired, “But nope.” She let out a cold half laugh once again, “You know my favourite colour isn’t even pink.”
Maddox chuckled, “It’s not?”
Pink laughed again, “Nope. It’s green.”
Maddox seemed shocked at her outburst. It made sense. Trying to get her mother’s approval was a good explanation for her behaviour, and now with something that was seemingly threatening that, the breakdown was almost inevitable. But that is what was so shocking. No one had ever seen Pink like this, she had never even said this out loud, so now saying all of this to Maddox of all people, it was a shock.
Pink seemed to be winding down now, her tone dropping back to flat and her volume lowering once more as she added, “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this but fuck it. Fuck it all. I don’t care anymore. I’m done.”
She looked back over to Maddox’s tests and sighed. “Well. What do the tests say.”
He looked at her just as shocked as before. He seemed to snap out of it a second later, answering “It’s not good.”
Pink just stared with a deadpan expression, “great.”