Archive of Our Own

It all starts when Pink, laying on her back on the floor, her feet propped up on a chair and her arms sprawled out, whines:

"I'm booooooooored."

"You could do your homework", Red suggests, not looking up from the jacket that she's stitching up after it got torn, sat cross-legged on the floor.

Pink pouts. Max, who's been fidgeting with a juggling ball, throws it at her.

"Hey!" she protests when it hits her — lightly — in the chest. "That was uncalled for!"

She throws it back, but lying on the floor tends to alter one's aim, and the ball goes flying way past Max. He gropes around for something to throw in return, and his hand closes around Red's pin cushion.

"Don't."

She sounds entirely calm, but Max knows better than to argue with that tone. Before he can find something else to throw at Pink, however, the younger girl rolls to the side and scrambles to her feet.

"I know!"

Max, busy retrieving his juggling ball from behind the couch, doesn't respond. Red makes a vague questioning sound.

"Wow. My genius is wasted here", Pink sighs wistfully.

"If by 'genius' you mean that remarkable inability of yours to stay still for more than fifteen seconds…"

"See? Wasted, I'm telling you!"

Red ties a knot at the end of her sewing, sticks the needle into her pin cushion, and finally looks up.

"You know what, exactly?"

"Something fun we could do!"

"I thought this was perfectly fine", Max replies, casually throwing the ball and catching it one-handed, shooting her a mocking smirk.

Pink sticks her tongue out at him, then grabs Red's sleeve in an attempt to pull her up.

"Come onnn!" she whines.

Her older sister chuckles.

"Okay, okay. Don't tear the jacket I just fixed, will ya?"

She scrambles to her feet, much to Pink's delight.

"Max?"

Still smirking, he accepts the outstretched hand, letting Red pull him to his feet. Pink squeals in joy and twirls around, her skirt floating around her, before leading the older two out of the living room.

"Where are we going?"

Pink, as she often does, doesn't answer. She skips through corridors and up staircases, the other two following without much protest, until they reach a corridor in a darker corner of the castle, with a trapdoor cut out in the ceiling. There, she pulls a lever on the wall, and the trapdoor opens, revealing a ladder that glides down towards them with a clank. Grinning from ear to ear, Pink motions for them to climb first.

The attic is a large, circular room full of cardboard boxes of all sizes, shapes and colours. There seems to be no form of organisation whatsoever, yet Pink easily makes her way among the mess, somehow never once stepping on anything, and towards a pile of smaller boxes in the far corner. She looks back expectantly at the other two, who are making their way more slowly towards her.

"Tada!"

"What's this?"

She opens the box on top of the pile and reveals a heavy, burgundy leather-bound book.

"A photo album?"

"All our old photo albums", Pink corrects. "We can look through them! And tell Max all the stories!"

The two eldest exchange a glance, then a shrug.

"Okay."

"Wee!"

Pink settles down among the boxes and opens the album on her lap. The other two squeeze in next to her.

***

They look through the entire album. Then the next. After a while, they move on to digging through the boxes. There are photos of the girls' childhood, some of them formal, posing photos, others more casual, a teenage Red on her first day of school, Pink reading books in various unexpected positions, the two sisters' and Chloe's laughing faces popping out of a pillow fort, Pink brandishing a wooden spoon, chocolate staining her face, her hair and her clothes, Red reading to Pink in an armchair, Red staring at the sky in apparent boredom while Chloe frowns at a handful of marbles, counting on her fingers, face scrunched up in concentration, a two-year-old Pink staring at the hedges maze in fascination, Red leaning over Pink's crib, Red and Chloe as babies, wide-eyed and reaching for the pink ribbons hanging above their face. There are pictures of Bridget and Ella, both pregnant, as well as older ones, Bridget holding Chloe's older brother Chad, the two women on the croquet grounds in Wonderland, beaming, with flamingos surrounding them, and even high school photos. Gradually, more people start to appear in the pictures, Red and Pink's grandparents, their great-grandparents, other older relatives. Pink knows every story, every anecdote, every name.

It's getting dark, and they're about to go back downstairs, when a plain brown box at the very bottom of the pile catches Max' eye. Unlike the others, it isn't labelled with dates and names; it only has one single letter drawn in purple marker in the corner, M. For some reason, it makes Max' stomach churn uneasily.

"Max, you coming?" Red asks, already halfway to the ladder.

"Yeah, one sec", he replies, not looking at her.

From the tone of his voice, Red knows that something's up. Without another word, she turns back and leans over his shoulder to look at what he's found. Pink joins, too.

"I never noticed that one", she muses, her voice dropping to a whisper, almost as if she's scared of awakening some sort of sleeping beast.

Max swallows. Somehow, the atmosphere has become more solemn, like all three of them can sense that something about this box is important. It makes his heart beat out of his chest. For a split second, he considers turning away, forgetting about it, never touching the box again. But his curiosity gets the better of him, and he reaches for it.

Red helps him lift the other boxes to free the bottom one, and he pulls it towards him. The two girls settle down on either side of him. With one last deep inhale, he opens the flaps.

And finds his own face staring back at him.

"Wha—"

On the top of the box is a framed picture of three toddlers, sitting under an arcade that reads "Wonderland's Wonder Fair". In the middle is Pink, who can't be more than a year old, chewing on a pink plastic butterfly. On one side is Red, one hand resting on her sister's back, the other pointing towards the camera, clearly trying to get her to look that way. And on the other side, grinning from ear to ear with a toffee apple in one hand and sugar stains all over his face, is Max.

"What in the Cards", Pink breathes.

"You don't know about it, then?" Red asks.

The younger girl just shakes her head. Max doesn't look at either of them. With trembling fingers, he digs deeper into the box.

Every picture adds to his confusion. He's at a playground, kneeling on top of a little house with his hands in the air like he's just won a championship while Red's head pops out from the window. He's standing above Pink's crib, mirroring the picture of Red and Pink they saw earlier. He's sitting at a table, building a tower out of play teacups, his tongue sticking out in concentration. He's in the throne room of the Wonderland royal palace, curled up on the throne with Red and Chloe, all three of them fast asleep. He can't take his eyes off the pictures, can't stop himself from looking at the next one, and the next, and the next. Childhood pictures are something he thought he'd never had. His father was never paying enough attention to notice, and anyway, not much of his childhood has been photograph-worthy. But this… This is not how he wanted to find old memories.

Red and Pink say nothing as he goes through every single picture. They just lean against him, looking at the pictures together, offering quiet support. Finally, he reaches the bottom of the box. The last thing he finds is a thin photo album, its cover made of brown leather with golden highlights. He opens it eagerly, only to freeze. Next to him, both Pink and Red audibly gasp.

The first page of the album shows a younger Bridget, clad in her royal attire. She's standing in the centre of the picture, a proud smile on her lips. Standing behind her, dressed just as elegantly, one arm wrapped around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder, is Maddox.

"I think this was a ball or something", Pink supplies, her voice uncharacteristically shaky.

Max turns the page. There's Maddox again, holding hands with Bridget, both of them leaning back and laughing. He looks happier, more at peace, than Max has ever seen him. And the pictures keep coming. Maddox and Bridget with Ella and Charming. Pouring together over a deck of cards. Laughing. Kissing.

The years pass with the pages. The pair looks a little older with each picture. In one of them, Bridget is pregnant. In the next one, the couple are sitting side by side, looking exhausted but happy, each holding a newborn in their arms — one with red hair, one with purple hair. And slowly, Max notices, the familiar glint in his father's eye becomes stronger.

Another page, another picture. Maddox holds a one-year-old Max on his lap, a picture book open in front of both of them, pointing at something on a page. Max can't hold in a choked sob. Immediately, Pink's arms wrap around his waist, while Red's hand comes down to rest on his shoulder. He grits his teeth and turns another page.

The last picture shows them on an outing. They all have less formal clothes than in most of the pictures, and Maddox has a backpack strapped to his shoulders. Wrapped in a scarf on Bridget's chest is a baby Pink. The two of them stand on either side, and in the middle are Red and Max, no more than two or three years old. The whole family are holding hands, and the air of pure joy on little Max' face is one he's sure he hasn't worn in a decade.

He closes the album with a snap. He's shaking at the revelation. So Bridget is… his mom? And Maddox is Red and Pink's dad? Thousands of thoughts, thousands of questions overcome him all at once. Why? How? How could they all look so happy? What went wrong? Why did Bridget banish Maddox to the Isle? Why did Max go with him, and not the girls?

How could she abandon him like that?

Slap!

All of a sudden, his cheek is burning. He whirls around in shock.

"Pink, what the fuck?!"

"Sorry!" she squeals, looking horrified at her own boldness. "I couldn't let you go evil again!"

His hands, he notices, have curled into fists. His jaw is set so tight his teeth are grinding together.

"She's right, Max", Red adds, squeezing his shoulder a little tighter. "You have every right to be angry — hell, I'm furious right now", she adds, and her eyes darken, but he can tell she's keeping it together for him. "But we'll figure this out together, I swear."

For one fleeting, horrifying second, he remembers how he felt after looking into the Oraculum, and the idea of leaning back into that version of himself feels irresistibly tempting. But Red's hand on his shoulder grounds him, and Pink is still looking at him, wringing her hands nervously. Seeing her face, altogether earnest, worried, horrified and caring, something in him snaps. The tension in his muscles releases all at once, tears rush to his eyes and spill down his cheeks, sobs rack his whole body and before he knows it, he crumples into the two girls' arms.

Red catches him as he falls, pulling him into her chest, and Pink wraps her arms around him from behind, pressing her face to his back. Neither of them speak; they just hold him as he cries, allowing him to let it all out — the hurt, the anger, the betrayal. They hold him, and he lets them, because right now, he feels like they're the only thing keeping him together.

***

"Mom?"

"There you are! I was starting to worry—"

She cuts herself off, her heart sinking in her chest, when she notices the photo album clutched tightly in Max' arms. For several unbearable seconds, she says nothing, merely taking in the three teens' closed expressions, Red's anger, Pink's loss and confusion, Max' utter devastation and hurt. Then she takes a deep breath.

"…let's all have a seat, okay?"

The girls glance at Max, who nods tightly. The three of them settle on the couch, curled up into one another, each of them clearly unwilling to let go of the others. Bridget sits in an armchair across from them.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this", she begins. "I should have told you all long ago… But then again, there is so much to that story that I should have done differently."

"So it's true then?" Red challenges, her tone stern and cold.

"It is true, yes. Maddox…"

She trails off, unsure how to find the words. The kids don't speak; Red is looking at her, Pink is looking at Max, Max is looking at the floor. Eventually, she decides to start at the beginning.

"Maddox was not always the way he is now. Yes, he's been obsessed with the pocket watch since we were teenagers, but there was a time where he was friendly, fun, joyful. And, yes, I loved him. My parents never much approved of him, so we stayed discreet for a long time, but it was one of the best times of my life." She smiles wistfully.

"What happened?"

Her smile turns back into a frown.

"Over time, his obsession for the pocket watch only grew. When you two were born", she nods at Red and Max, "I was worried. I made him swear he'd give up on it, focus on our family. I think he did, for a while. But then…"

She lets her eyes trail away from the kids, gazing into the void, as she gathers her memories.

"Both of my parents died shortly after Pink was born. I was hurt, I was struggling with the grief, the royal responsibilities, and raising three toddlers at the same time, and Maddox was pulling away from me. So when I found out he'd been continuing his research behind my back, in a secret lab…"

***

He stands in the wreck that used to be his lab. Gears and screws are scattered over the floor. Papers, notes, designs have all been stuffed into the fireplace, crumpled up and half-burnt and covered in soot. His inventions, his prized machines, have all been turned over, some of them broken. Potion vials have been smashed, automatons have been torn apart.

It's them, he thinks at first. They've found him, they know he's after them, he's close to figuring out their secrets, they're trying to stop him. But he won't let himself be intimidated, they don't know him if they think that's enough to stop him! He'll start over, he still remembers some of his findings, he can reproduce them. And it's not like many of his inventions matter that much, the only thing that really counts is the watch. No, they can't stop him.

And then another question comes to his mind: how? They must be even cleverer than he'd thought if they managed to find the cottage. It's so well hidden, he didn't think anyone could find their way… Ah! But maybe he can use that to his advantage. Since they've been here, maybe they left traces or clues. Yes, that's it. He immediately gets to searching the workshop, ignoring the mess, looking for anything that looks unusual.

It doesn't take him long to stumble across a nail. One of Bridget's gel nails, specifically. Huh, that's weird. Did Bridget come down here? No, she doesn't know, he never told her about the lab. Well, not yet. He's going to, once the children are a bit older. Sure, he promised he'd drop it, but when she sees how much progress he's made, she'll understand. That doesn't solve the question of the nail, though. Did it get stuck in his clothes and fall off? But they haven't spent much time together lately, so it's unlikely.

Unless…

No. No, no, no, no, no!

He paces the lab, kicking at the screws on the floor, his hands tangled in his hair. No, no, no! Bridget, you fool! It's too soon, too soon for her to know! He knew she wouldn't understand! Oh, why couldn't she stay away just a little bit longer? Why did she have to come down here and—

How could she? How dare she? It's the work of a lifetime, the lab, the pocket watch, Bridget knows that! And yet she had no qualms destroying it all, throwing it all away! It's no longer funny, the way it was when he thought it was them. Then it could be a game, a chessboard of sorts, where he could plan his next move. But if it's her? If it's Bridget? Then it's not all part of this little game of cat and mouse he's been playing for most of his life. Bridget, his Queen, the love of his life, found his work and thought it would be funny to destroy it.

And she knew! She knew how important it was!

She's trying to get back to him, that's what it is, for not keeping his promise. But he had good reason! The pocket watch was for them, can't she see it? It would secure their future! For them and for the children! They could fix years of hiding their relationship, they could erase the heartbreak that Gaston caused her when he dumped her for Belle (who dumped him the next day, too!), the future would be in their hands!

He would have done it all for her…

But it's too late now. She's made him an enemy. She'll regret it. One day, he'll be on top, the pocket watch in his hands, and Bridget will be begging, pleading with him to have mercy. Oh, yes, that thought brings back his smile. He'll bid his time, continue his research, find the pocket watch…

But why wait? He can make Bridget suffer right now. He wants to see the pain in her eyes when she understands what she's done. And he knows exactly where to start.

Bridget went for the most important thing in his life. Well, see how she likes it when he takes the most important thing in her life.

***

"MADDOX HATTER!"

Bridget has been upset before. She's been frustrated, she's been angry, she's been furious, even, but she's never been this enraged.

Maddox' head appears through the window of the hidden cottage. With a mocking smirk, he tips his hat at her.

"Yes, my Queen?"

Bridget doesn't waste time in greetings. She gestures around her, at the guards circling the cottage. She's brought half of the Wonderland army with her.

"You will give back the children, and then you shall be banished to the Isle of the Lost for your crimes. That's an order."

Maddox' smirk widens.

"Ah, but my dear, I fear it's not as easy. You see, in order for me to give back the children, I would have to want to."

"The guards—"

"Won't attack if I threaten the children."

Icy cold spreads through her veins.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Dare? What does dare mean? There are lots of things I thought I wouldn't dare. Lots of things I thought you wouldn't dare. And yet, here we are", he concludes in a sing-song voice.

"What kind of father threatens his own children?"

Maddox' face contorts in anger.

"You don't understand!" he exclaims. "I'm a genius! I'm doing this for them!"

"No", Bridget counters, trying to keep control of the heaviness in her voice. "You're doing this to hurt me."

"Maybe, maybe not. One day, they'll understand. They'll thank me for it! And you? You'll be left behind, wishing you'd listened to me earlier!"

"I don't know you anymore", she breathes, and it's true — it's horrifyingly, painfully true.

"Funny, that. I thought I knew you, and then you went ahead and DESTROYED MY WORK!"

The sudden yell makes her jump. But she has to keep it together, she knows, if only for the children. She clenches her fists, forcing herself to regain control — on herself, on the conversation, on the situation as a whole. She can grieve for the man she knew and loved later. For now, she has to deal with the madman in front of her. His logic, clearly, is long gone. Rational arguments won't bring anything. She changes her approach.

"You say the children will thank you", she tries, cautiously. "But how will they do that if they end up hurt, or worse?"

Maddox' face twists in something that might be contemplation, his gaze turned towards the rim of his hat. A few seconds pass. Behind Bridget, the Jack of Diamonds twitches nervously. She motions for him to stay put. Eventually, Maddox' thoughtful looks turns into one of triumph.

"Aha! I know. Let's play a game!"

"What kind of game?" Bridget asks, despite the urge to scream at him that they don't have time for games when her children are in danger.

"I'll go to the Isle of the Lost. If", he adds, pointing a warning finger in her direction, "you swear on the Cards to let the children choose."

"Choose?"

"Between you and me. Isle or Wonderland."

Rightful fury bubbles in her at the thought.

"They're one and three years old! They don't realise what's at play! If you think I'll compromise the well-being of my children on a bet—"

"Well, well, if the idea offends you so much, forget I said anything", he taunts, disappearing back into the cabin.

"WAIT!"

The window opens again and Maddox' head comes back up.

"There has to be some other way. Maddox, please."

"No other way. They choose, or I keep them all."

There it is again, the sick, twisting feeling in her stomach at the thought that their own father is using her children as bargaining chips. All because of her, because she lost control, because she couldn't see the signs early enough, because she couldn't communicate with her husband, because…

No. There will be time for guilt later. Right now, she must focus on the children.

"Okay."

"Swear it. On the Cards."

"Your Majesty", the Jack of Diamonds tries.

She ignores him. Never taking her eyes off Maddox, she pulls her deck of cards from her pocket. The Hatter's eyes widen, as if he hadn't been expecting her to actually agree, then his surprised expression turns to one of utter glee.

"I want to see them first", she demands.

Maddox seems to hesitate, then shrugs.

"Oh, very well."

He disappears inside the cabin once more. Bridget holds her breath. After a few moments, the door opens, and Maddox steps out, blocking the way for all three children. Out of reflex, Bridget lunges towards them, but Maddox raises a hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"Ah! Swear on the cards, or we're gone again."

She freezes, but scans the three children's silhouettes, in search of the slightest sign of mistreatment. None of them look hurt, and they all seem relatively happy, Maddox and Red fighting over a gear while Pink babbles happily. Reluctantly, she holds out the deck of cards in her right hand, covering it with her left.

"I, Bridget of Hearts, Queen of Wonderland, swear by the Cards to abide by my children's decision today as to where they will live."

Her magic flares, surrounding her hands and binding the vow. Maddox gives a maniacal cackle.

"There, happy? Now give me my children!"

"Our children, my dear", he corrects.

Bridget clenches her fists, but says nothing. Maddox steps aside, letting the children see her. Bridget crouches down and holds out her arms to them.

Pink sees her first. With more happy baby sounds, she starts crawling towards her mother. She's about halfway there when Red looks up from her bickering with Max.

"Mommy!" she exclaims, and runs towards her, the gear all but forgotten.

Bridget catches the two girls with ease, ready to cry with relief. But Max, still focused on the gear, hasn't moved.

"Max", she calls. "Maxey."

He glances up, briefly, then returns to his occupation. Bridget's heart sinks. She knows her son, she knows when he's like this, not much can distract him. Over the children's shoulders, Maddox makes a ticking motion with his hand, taunting her. Her heart clenches with anguish.

"Max", she calls again, her tone more insistent this time.

The little boy doesn't react. Instead, he crouches down, picking up a screw on the floor and trying to fit it into the gear. When it doesn't fit, he turns further away into the cottage and trots off in search of more screws. Maddox' smile turns victorious.

"There you have it, my dear. Two out of three. You should be happy enough."

"Max!"

She lets go of Red and Pink and lunges towards the cottage. But her magic flares around her and stops her in her tracks, holding her back, preventing her from taking even a step forwards.

"Ah, ah", Maddox taunts. "By the cards. You swore."

And without another word, he turns on his heel, steps back into the cottage, and slams the door. Bridget can't hold in a choked sob.

"Mommy?" Red's anxious voice sounds behind her.

She turns around, trying to hold back her tears.

"It's okay, Sweetheart. Everything's okay."

It's not. It's so not, and will never be. She turns her gaze to the Jack of Diamonds.

"Inform Fairy Godmother that she is needed to send Maddox to the Isle."

Her guard and friend gives her a long, searching look, but Bridget averts her eyes. She'll let herself cry, later, once the girls are asleep and she's crossed the mirror to Ella's throne room. She'll let herself collapse then, in her best friend's arms, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing until she has no tears left to cry. She'll cry in bed, every night, for years, for her son, and pray he doesn't remember her and can live a somewhat happy life, with a father who, she knows, although he hasn't done a great job at showing it today, still loves him. She'll never fully stop grieving, and when she'll see him again, thirteen years later, all the pain that had become somewhat manageable over time will come right back, hitting her like it's that first day all over again.

But not now.

For now, she just turns, gathers the two girls in her arms, and whispers:

"Come on. Let's go home."

***

Max stares at her blankly for several seconds. Then he gets up and races out of the room.

***

"Max!"

The three Hearts women sprint after him. He runs faster, losing them in the corridors, but neither Red nor Pink need to see him to know where he's going. They just know, that's all. They barely pay any attention to the fact that their mother is still following them, panting a little more heavily than they are. Max doesn't want to see her right now. He won't have to. They don't know why or how they can be so sure, but they are.

By the time they reach the maze, Max is entirely out of sight. The two sisters dash through the hedges without a second thought, but as Bridget goes to follow, the entrance closes. Red and Pink go on together. A little way in, they eventually come to a halt.

"Where'd you think he went?" Red asks.

Pink shrugs.

"I'm sure he's somewhere here."

"Me too. I just don't know where."

The younger girl looks around for a second, then her eyes light up.

"I know!"

"Last time you said that, it did not end well", Red mutters.

Her sister ignores her.

"We can just ask the maze nicely to show us the way."

Red pauses, blinks, then cautiously begins:

"Pink, I'm really not sure that's how it works."

"Well, it worked last time", Pink replies, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Although, I didn't exactly ask nicely. More like, I yelled at it to let me in."

Before Red can think of anything to answer to that, Pink, leaving her sister to her confusion, turns to the nearest hedge and presses her hands against it.

"Our brother needs us. Let us through, please?"

For the briefest moment, nothing happens. Then, much to Red's astonishment, a passage opens to their right. Pink skips into it without hesitation.

"See? This way!"

Red is too stunned to answer.

***

They find Max in their old hideout, the little fort they had built to have pretend tea parties as kids, the one that even Bridget doesn't know about. He's curled up on the ground, his back to the hedge and his knees pressed to his chest, and he doesn't look up when they step into the small space. They don't say anything, either; they just sit down on either side of him, and he leans into their embrace, his hands instantly going up to hold onto them.

There's no need for words. Not now, not just yet. For now, all there is to do is for the three siblings to hold each other together.

***

Maddox looks up as the door to his cell opens. A lazy smirk stretches across his features.

"Oh, my Queen! How generous of you to finally grace me with your royal presence. I was starting to think—"

"They know", Bridget cuts him, her jaw tight.

The information effectively shuts him up. He looks at her, blinking, for a few seconds, then he repeats:

"They… know?"

"The children", Bridget confirms. "They found old pictures in the attic. They know."

***

"Was she ever going to tell us?"

Even to himself, Max' voice sounds terribly small. Red's grip around him tightens even more, if possible.

***

"They ran off into the maze. It opened for them but shut me out. I think we both know what that means."

Maddox nods, and despite the situation, a hint of pride pierces in his eyes. Bridget lets herself drop down on a chair.

"I just need to know that they're okay", she breathes.

"Okay? After this kind of bombshell?"

She winces.

"As much as they can be, I suppose. I just… Please."

"Please?" His eyebrow goes up to the ceiling. "Are you pleading with me? Again?"

"Maddox, now's not the time. Max is… It hit him hard. I don't like to think of them alone, out there, at night."

For a second, she fears he's going to continue being difficult. She braces herself for more taunting. But instead, Maddox digs into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a tiny mechanical bird, curled up on itself in his palm.

"You know how to use it", is all he says.

She does, because they used similar technology to keep in touch, back when they had to keep their relationship a secret. She steps out of the cell, which has magic-cancelling enchantments, to infuse some of her magic into the little automaton, which springs to life, its eyes lighting up with a pink glow.

"I don't need to know where they are", she tells it. "I just need to know they're safe, and they're taking care of each other."

The bird chirps once, then flies out the open window. Bridget watches it go before stepping back into Maddox' cell.

The Hatter looks surprised to see her back, but he doesn't comment. Instead, he just looks at her, sitting backwards on a chair, his chin resting in his hand, as if he's trying to read her thoughts. Bridget tries to ignore the familiarity of that gaze, even after more than a decade.

"Did you ever think about it?" Maddox asks all at once, snapping out of his pose and crossing his arms on the table.

"About Max? Every day. About you? Sometimes. About us? I try not to", she replies.

Maddox gives a sound that's too gentle to be a snicker.

"Did you?" she asks.

He doesn't reply.

***

"Is that why she wanted to adopt me so bad? Is that all I am to her? The trophy in a game of capture the flag?"

Neither of the girls have an answer for him.

"For what it's worth", Red speaks up after a while, "I'm still glad she did."

***

None of them notice the tiny mechanical bird fluttering above them.

***

"Hey, remember the banner Pink made on your first day?"

The image of a huge, bright purple banner with the words 'Welcome home, brother' fleets through all three of their minds. Max heaves a wet chuckle.

***

Somewhere in the Wonderland dungeon, a small mechanical bird flutters back into a cell, and two former lovers let out a sigh of relief.

***

"It's not fair."

He sobs into Red's shoulder, Pink's arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

"It's not fair. It's not fair."

"It's not."

"All these years I thought my father didn't really want me, but it's worse than that. He just used me to hurt my mother."

"I know."

"He took away my life just to get back at her."

"Oh, Max."

"I could have had a family. I could have had a mom."

Red holds him tighter.

"We could have been siblings."

"We are."

Pink's tone is filled with ferocious love.

"Don't you dare think otherwise. We are."

***

They fall asleep at some point, curled together in the small hideout, a messy heap of red, pink and purple.

***

Bridget hasn't left Maddox' cell by the time morning dawns. Neither of them have slept all night. She couldn't bring herself to leave and go to bed, and she feels like he was reluctant to let her go, too. They haven't spoken much. Mostly, they've been sitting in silence. Maddox broke it only once.

"I'd like to see those pictures", he said.

Bridget just nodded.

It's almost become comfortable — the silence, the wait, the unspoken memories floating between them. So much so, that when a door opens in the corridor, it feels like a bubble has just popped. Maddox straightens himself, playing with the rings on his fingers. Bridget smoothed her dress almost subconsciously.

The children don't knock, they just open the door. It's like they've known all along it would be unlocked. For a while, all five of them just stare at each other, all still wearing yesterday's clothes, crumpled by a long sleepless night, eyes rimmed with dark circles, muscles stretched uncomfortably from staying in the same positions all night. Max looks worse than anyone else. His eyes are red and bloodshot, his hair is messy, his hat askew, and he looks like he's been crying all night. Which, Bridget finds herself thinking, he might well have. Her heart clenches at the thought.

He doesn't spare her a glance. Instead, he looks straight at his father.

"Please. I have to hear it from you."

And for once in his life, Maddox doesn't hide. He doesn't brush him off or deflect the question. Instead, he looks gravely into his sons eyes, and nods.

"It's true. Bridget is your mother."

"You took me with you to the Isle to prove a point."

His tone is accusatory, but above all, it's heavy with pain and grief. Maddox doesn't look away. He nods again.

"I did."

"You took away my life. Twice."

"Twice?"

"When you dragged me to the Isle. And then when you created the Oraculum, saw the other timeline, and still decided to be the father you are."

Maddox' face twitches painfully. It takes effort to continue looking his son in the eyes. But he owes Max that much.

"I thought I was doing it for you."

"Were you?"

This time, words get stuck in his throat. Finally, he breaks eye contact, unable to take the resentment in his son's eyes any longer. He knows the answer, but the admission costs him. In one tiny, almost imperceptible motion, he shakes his head.

Max turns away to hide his tears, and finds Red and Pink directly behind him. Their eyes are filled with love and support, and without thinking twice, he lets himself sink into their arms again, not caring anymore that both Maddox and Bridget are still in the room, forgetting any familiar impulse to hide his weaknesses. He's vaguely aware of Red glaring daggers at their parents over his shoulder. Minutes pass. He refuses to move. He feels like if he does, he'll break into a million pieces, and at this point he doesn't even know if it's grief, resentment, anger, pain, betrayal. Probably everything at once.

"Max."

His father's voice is softer than he's ever heard it before. He doesn't move, instead clinging tighter to his sisters — his sisters, the ones he should have had all along.

"I'm sorry."

The tears he's been holding back spill from his eyes before he can stop them, and he shatters, right then and there, sobbing uncontrollably in his sisters' embrace.

***

"Is that why we can sense each other?" Pink asks a few days later, after he's cried all of his tears and more, breaking the heavy silence at the dinner table.

"Sense each other?" Bridget repeats.

"Since Christmas. We always know what the others are feeling."

"Probably, yes. The combination of Hatter and Hearts magic has already had… interesting results, in the past."

Her voice is unusually strained. It feels wrong to be having such a casual conversation, after everything they've learnt, and the past few days the three Hearts children have spent mostly avoiding their mother. They've barely let go of one another, though, not even at night, as they've taken to spending the night together in each other's rooms, usually Red's or Max'.

"What do you mean?"

"The maze", Bridget answers. "It was a co-creation. And from the look of it, you three have some degree of control over it. Something which neither Maddox nor I can do, not without the other."

Red and Pink exchange a look. The younger sister beams at the eldest, mouthing 'I told you so'. Red rolls her eyes, but there's a smile playing on her lips.

For a fleeting second, life feels normal again.

***

"I was wondering how long it would take you to come down here."

Red stands in front of Maddox, her fists clenched and her feet set firmly in the ground to prevent herself from fidgeting.

"What about the other timeline?" she asks without preamble.

Maddox leans back in his chair, his feet propped up on the desk. He locks his hands behind his head and turns sideways to look at her.

"What about it?"

She gives him a hard look.

"You know what I mean."

"You're asking if I was your father then, too."

It's not a question, it's a statement. Red doesn't answer. She just stares some more.

"I was."

"Then why?"

"Why did I never tell you? Oh, but I did. Simply… Not in those terms."

And it's true, she realises. He did tell her. Not with words, not as clearly as right now — but he said it in every single action, every hug, every time he stood up for her, every second of her life in which he acted as more of a parental figure than her mother ever did.

"When Bridget became queen", Maddox goes on, casually examining his fingernails, "she decided she no longer had use for me. She wanted to send Max and I away, but I convinced her to keep me as an inventor. I swore never to tell you the truth."

He turns his gaze back to her, his hands relaxing in his lap, and for the briefest fraction of a second, she sees him again — her Maddox, the Maddox from before.

"It was the price I paid to continue being a part of your life."

Red swallows back a sob.

"Why did she send you away, but not me? And why weren't you allowed to tell me?" she forces out.

And it's gone, the vision of former Maddox, the subtle look in his eye. It all shatters in an instant, and he lets his gaze wander away from her again.

"Ah, my dear, I think you already know that."

"She wanted to turn me into her mini-me", Red breathes. "She wanted me to depend on her alone."

Maddox doesn't answer. Silence stretches between them, heavy and painful.

"Why?" she blurts out at last, unable to hold back any longer the question she's been dying to ask — for herself and for her twin brother.

He looks up at the anguish in her tone, studying her with an undecipherable gaze.

"You saw the other timeline. Why couldn't you be him?"

"You're forgetting, my dear, that I didn't finalize the Oraculum until after I was banished to the Isle. By then, it was already too late."

"But it wasn't!"

Her tone is desperate, almost pleading. She takes a deep breath, forces herself to get her feelings back under control. Maddox continues to study her without a word. Then, all of a sudden, his gaze snaps away from her.

"You should leave", is all he says.

The words hit her like a bullet. She doesn't move, frozen in the centre of the room, unable to take her eyes off her former mentor — off her father. Maddox now has his back to her. Part of her wants to fight, to refuse to be pushed away, to plead for him to… To what exactly? To say something, to change, to fix this, to do whatever it takes to take away hers and Max' pain. It's impossible, she reminds herself. He's gone. He's not the Maddox she once knew. He might be changing, a little, but he won't become an entirely different person overnight.

She turns to leave.

"Red."

She doesn't mean to. It takes less than a second for her to remind herself that she needs to leave, she can't listen to him, it will only hurt more. But in that split second, she freezes, and that's all Maddox needs.

"Take care of him."

She turns the handle and leaves for good.

***

Max' arms wrap around her.

"I feel so selfish", she mutters.

"Don't."

"I'm here complaining, and you're holding me together, when it should be the other way around."

"It has been the other way around for the past week. You're allowed to hurt, too."

The words break something within her, as if she'd only been waiting for his permission. She tucks her head against his shoulder.

"I miss him", she admits before she can stop herself.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't. Hazel was right, you know. We're both hurting for the same reasons. It's no use competing against each other, about whose fault it is or who's allowed to be hurt."

For a long time, Red doesn't respond, thoughts and feelings swirling in her mind.

"I wish…" she begins, but trails off. She's not sure herself what she wishes.

"I know. Me too. But", he adds, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips, "if it had been different, we wouldn't have the friends we have now. Hazel. Felix. The twins."

"The Smees. They're not the only twins anymore", she reminds him, the smallest hint of happiness breaking through her haze of grief.

"Can you imagine? I'd have been one of you", Max smirks. "An HK."

"…nepo babies?" Red mutters, speaking only the last words of the quote clearly enough to be understood.

Max flicks her arm playfully.

"God, that would've been awful."

***

Pink finds her mother in the kitchen. Baking has always helped her process her feelings, something which Pink also inherited. Bridget doesn't look up when her daughter steps in, and it isn't until she's right across the table from her that Pink notices the tears staining her cheeks.

"Mom?"

Bridget looks up, smiling through her tears.

"Hey, Sweetheart."

Without thinking, Pink crosses the room and wraps her arms around her mother's waist. Bridget returns the hug. For a while, Pink feels like she could stay there forever, wrapped in her mother's embrace, and just forget everything. But she came with a goal in mind, a question she knows she needs answers to. So she eventually breaks the hug and asks:

"Why did you never tell us?"

Bridget wipes away the last of her tears.

"I thought I was protecting you. You were too small to remember, but Red asked for Max every night at first. It broke my heart. She was three, she was still young… I thought if I let her forget that she'd ever had a brother, or a dad, it would hurt less."

"But surely you didn't think we'd never find out? You had to know we'd end up meeting one day?"

"Not at first, no. Not until the barrier came down. And then Red started talking about the VKs, about Hazel and Max, and I knew one day I'd have to tell you, but I kept thinking you were young, I had time, you didn't need to hear it until you were older… I was scared, Sweetheart, and I was lying to myself. People tend to make excuses when they're scared."

Pink nods gravely.

"And then you went on to adopt Max…"

"Adopt him, bring him home. Something like that. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, facing my son again after all those years, and yet it was the easiest decision I've ever made in my life."

"But it's been almost a year. Why didn't you tell us then?"

"I couldn't find the right words. Max was already struggling so much, feeling abandoned by his father… I didn't know how to tell him without making it worse."

"It must have been so hard for you", Pink realises. "To keep that secret alone."

Bridget smiles, stroking her daughter's cheek.

"I am your mother, Sweetheart. My feelings aren't yours to carry."

Pink melts into the contact, savouring the tender gesture. She's missed this, the casual affection, the displays of love, during the past week when everything has been turned upside-down.

"Max feels like you lied to him", she says at last, breaking the silence. "Red too."

"I know. They have every right to feel that way. Especially after finding out by accident."

Bridget pulls up a chair and sits down, and Pink does the same.

"What about you? We keep talking about your siblings, but how are you feeling?"

"I don't know", she admits, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's a lot. I'm happy to have a brother, though."

***

Bridget brings Maddox the photo album. He takes it with trembling hands, running his fingers along the cover reverently.

"How long has it been since you've seen them?" he asks, without taking his eyes off the album.

"Almost fourteen years."

Maddox pulls up a second chair. Bridget sits next to him.

He cracks the album open.

***

They're in the living room, Pink hanging off the sofa with a book open on the floor in front of her, Red sorting through her colouring markers, Max practicing a cards trick.

"When he's out of jail", Pink breathes suddenly, "do you think he'll want to be our dad?"

Max' breath hitches and he drops the cards. Red glances at him.

"I think so", she says carefully. "I don't know how much we can expect, but… I think he'll want to try."

Pink gives a soft hum. For a while, silence stretches between them, peaceful despite the heaviness. Then the younger girl suddenly rolls sideways on the sofa, letting go of her book.

"I'm boooored", she declares.

Red and Max exchange an amused glance.

"Oh no."

***

It'll take time.

They'll learn, slowly. Some things will be easy. Others won't.

The children won't need to learn how to be siblings. They already are. That much will never change.

Maddox will have to learn how to be a father again.

Bridget will have to adjust her relationship with her children, something that will never be quite the same.

The two of them will have to learn to co-parent, to respect each other's role in the children's lives. Every day will remind them of how much they've loved each other, and how much they've lost. But they'll move forwards, because that's all there is left to do.

And above all, they'll have to learn to be a family again. It will be painful, it will be slow, it won't be linear, and whatever they build in the end will be fragile, new and yet familiar in a twisted kind of way.

It will take the time it takes.

But there will always be something for them to build.