entranceway | ( one; voice )

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( one; voice )

[Emma has read what information has been made available, she’s walked the grounds and the corridors of some of the mansion’s ground floor, and she’s combed through what public postings she could find to look through on the device she’d found in the pocket opposite of where she kept her own phone. She’s been digging for evidence since she got here, but what she’s found?

She’s not buying it. The message that comes through is voice only, not wanting to reveal her face or her exact location right away-- though she’s pretty damn sure that whoever’s responsible for this is watching her and has a good idea of where she is, if not who.]

Look. I know someone is out there listening.

[She doesn’t know exactly who, but someone.]

This game of yours? I’m not interested. I don’t know how you got me here, or how you set all this up. Maybe it’s some messed-up alternate reality game, but I didn’t opt in for any of this. I don’t care how elaborate it is, or how much work went into it-- my kid is at home waiting for me, and I am not screwing around.

[Her tone is hard, angry rather than anxious, determination winning out over uncertainty.]

‘Wonderland.’ Cute, but I’m not impressed. All I want is for you to point me towards the exit. You can do me a solid and we can do this the easy way-- or we can do it the hard way. Trust me, whatever weird stuff you might be into, I can promise you won’t be happy if we go that route.

[She stays on the line, just to wait for any kind of possible response-- but she doesn’t really know what to expect. This entire thing has her out of her depth, even if she’s not willing to admit it.]

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A psych ward.

[She listens to it all, her expression growing harder, tighter with each passing word, but that's the part that sticks, the part that she can't help but repeat.]

If this is your idea of a joke, then I'd say that's where you belong--

[But. That superpower of hers kicks in all on its own, and either he's a phenomenal actor, or he honestly believes what he's saying.

She exhales slowly, pulling back just enough to put another inch or so of space between them. Not much, but maybe she'll come off as less immediately threatening.]

You lost your family?

[Before she says anything more, she wants to know if that part is true.]

[ Does he owe her anything? No. Not a damn thing, not after she accused him of something he's been adamantly against since he showed up in Wonderland. So he says nothing at first, lips pressed tightly together as he just looks at her, jaw clenching.

He doesn't owe her this, but she was on his side, and maybe he desperately, selfishly, needs that connection back. ]

I had a wife. Lauren. And a little girl, Abby. There was a fire. I thought they were right behind me when I ran out of the house. They weren't.

[ Henry's throat feels like it might shut, he feels like he might collapse into himself, and in this moment, he can easily see how he could have simply lost his mind. He couldn't save the family he'd built for himself after years of nothingness, and he'd gone right back to emptiness with one faulty electrical wire. ]

So, yeah. Maybe I'm insane. But I guess if I am, you are too.

I know who I am. Nobody wrote me into any book.

[Her voice is low and even, having swallowed some of her anger back as he shared his story. She intends to stand firm on that point-- but if he's telling the truth about his family, she doesn't have it in her to threaten him. She's never known much of family-- until she'd had Henry, she'd never had one of her own, but it's because she's never had one that she understands exactly how important it is.

Losing the people you love most could make you desperate enough to believe anything.]

... I'm sorry for your loss.

[But she's not crazy.]

Yeah, and I don't have fairy tale family members, but that's not stopping Regina from telling me I do.

[ He could keep telling Emma facts about her own life, but he knows that wouldn't go over well, she'd just think he was manipulating her. Sitting down in defeat, he puts his head in his hands for a minute and lets out a heavy breath. ]

So. Now what? With what people are telling us and what we just found out, what do we even call this?

I'm holding out against the psych ward theory a little longer, personally.

[She grimaces. She knows she's of sound mind, and despite the things Henry is saying, he's not acting crazy-- but he definitely knows too much. Not all of the information he had was wrong, after all.]

What I do know is that everyone here is being played.

[They have to be.]

If you're not trying to manipulate me, there are other options. Conditioning, brainwashing-- someone's orchestrating all of this.

[Maybe it's him, but maybe not.]

That woman, Regina, she uh...I don't know how, but she teleported us to the roof of this place. As in one second I'm standing in a bar, the next there's this cloud of purple smoke and we're on the roof.

[ That was a hell of a ride. But not the weirdest thing that happened. ]

Then she used this thing, it looked like a dream catcher? But it started playing home movies or something. It was me as a kid. Me with her in some town, growing up going to school, eating dinner with her. And I literally have no explanation for that at all. I can't deny it was me, but I know that wasn't my life. I was tossed in the system when I was born and never adopted.

She teleported you.

[She's going to have to take that with about three hundred grains of salt, thanks, but at least she's listening to him.]

However she made that work, it's not real. It can't be-- but it sure as hell does move her up the list of suspects.

[She was already pretty high up, as is.]

She reached out to me, too. She knew my name, said she was from my future.

[This face, right now.]

Well, at least she didn't say she was your mom. I think I win the 'weird exchanges with a woman we don't know' contest.

[ Henry finally goes back to his coffee, sitting and flipping open his notebook. ]

So, list of thing this could be outside of being mentally unstable include one of us, probably me because I was here first, being in a coma or fever dream and I thought you up as a way to cope with how unreal it all is. Or vice versa. Something in the air or in the water altering our state of mind, which...I'm from the west coast and depending on where you're from that's probably not likely.

[She arches a brow.]

Your mom.

[From what little she's seen of Regina, she's nowhere near old enough for that-- but yeah, Henry's right, he definitely wins on the weird exchanges there, if it can be called winning.]

The problem with all those theories is that they insinuate that I'm not real, which I definitely am.

[She's no figment of anyone's imagination, fever dream or otherwise.]

What about hypnotism? Mental conditioning?

[Someone could have forcibly done this to them.]

Yeah, but can this many people really be the exact same amount of susceptible? Like...we don't believe it but somehow we're still here. That doesn't even make sense.

[ He runs his hands through his hair, resting his head in his hands before letting out a breath. ]

There's one possibility we're ignoring, here. That this is all exactly like literally everyone I've talked to says it is. A huge group with the same consistent lies and no variations? You tell me, is that common?

[She grits her teeth at that prospect, not wanting to lend it any credibility, but-- he's not wrong. It is pretty damn unusual.]

No, but it's even more impossible than it is rare, isn't it?

[How could that possibly be the case?]

How can we be expected to believe any of this?

I don't know. But I'm willing to bet we'll be here a while. I just...over a hundred people here can't be wrong. There are definitely people other than us who have tried to get out of here and failed. Other people with families waiting at home. Just because they're still here and trying to live doesn't mean they've lost it or are lying.

[ Henry pauses for a second. ]

And not believing in something doesn't keep it from being real. I know that sounds like a line from a Christmas movie where Santa exists, but it guess it applies.

Pretty sure that's direct from 'The Santa Clause.'

[She's lost track of how many times she and Henry have watched that one when Christmas rolls around.]

I'll tell you one thing. Just because they failed, doesn't mean I'm going to.

[It might sound like she's bragging, but honestly, she's just that stubborn.]

I can't give up. I can't just-- accept this. That this is the way things are now.

No one is saying you shouldn't try. I just don't know what to try. I'm willing to help, whatever you need, whatever you can think of. And if I think of something, same deal.

[ He can appreciate her wanting to get the hell out, he does too. But he's heard too much and he doesn't want to risk death. He's not that determined. Maybe that's a flaw to Emma, but he'd rather not test the ocean and woods. ]

[She pushes herself up and away from the table with both hands, her expression grim as ever.]

Keep your phone on, then. I hear anything worth hearing, I'll let you know.

[Even if the jury is still out on how sound of mind he is.]

One way or another, though, I'm getting back to my kid.

[ Henry nods, admiring her determination. ]

I believe you.

[ And maybe if she's lucky it'll happen sooner than she thinks??? ]

Talk to you soon, Emma. And uh, sorry we had to meet under weird as hell circumstances.

[She exhales. Weird as hell circumstances. Yeah, that's putting it mildly.]

So am I, but one way or another, we're figuring this out.

[She smiles tightly, if only for a moment. Even hearing a near-stranger say he believes in her is... comforting, for some reason.]

I'll be in touch.

[She excuses herself without prolonging it any further, heading back out to resume her search and leave Henry to his coffee.]

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( one; voice )

RETURNS FROM FINALS AND SLAMS BACK INTO YOU

GET READY TO CRY

I'M NOT READY

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