The Forgotten Few

Chapter Eight: Remember

As Charlotte and I got started to get off the fire escape, I grabbed her arm before we went inside.

"Wow, you really like to do that," Charlotte said to me.

"I just wanted to ask you, if we're friends now-"

"I never said we were friends," Charlotte looked at me with a blank expression, "but I guess you could say we are."

"Okay, um, can I call you Char. You know, Charlotte's really a mouthful, and-" I asked.

"Sure," she responded. I smiled.

We walked in the house, and into the living room where the rest of the group was sitting watching the movie.  Micah and Claire were sitting next to each other. Something about those two was special, but I just can't put my finger on it. Neal got off the couch and walked over to Char and I.

"Hey," Neal started, "is it Charlotte?"

"Um, you can call me Char, for short. I know Charlotte can be a mouthful."

"Charlotte is just fine," Neal responded. Char blushed, and there was a slight smile on her face.

"But Maylen, I need to talk to you in private," he said with urgency in his voice.

"Alright," I said, confused. I told Char to stay with the others while Neal and I were gone. "What is it?" I ask.

"Do you remember how you got here? Do you ever have dreams, about," he hesitated, "your family?"

"Uh, yes... I do," I responded​, "I had one last night, but I was woken up at the end."

"Do you ever wonder if, those dreams, well, if they were real?" He asked, hoping for the right answer.

I hesitated, "Yes, I do. And that is the only thing keeping me going. It's what I go to when I'm out of something. Hope. I can lock myself away, in my own world, and know that somewhere out there is my family, and one day I will find them." A tear rolled down my left cheek. Why did I always cry at the mention of my parents?

"Maylen, I need to take you somewhere, but the others can't know about it," Neal whispered to me.

"Ok, but where exactly are we going?"

"Can't tell you, or else you would never come." He said.

I left a note on the table for Claire, Char and Micah, and Neal and I headed out the door.

He led me through bustling crowds walking down the sidewalk, their hands filled with shopping bags, and down ally ways until we got to a small, literally a hole in the wall, shop.

"What are we doing here? This is where the rats live," I fired at Neal, mad because he had wasted about thirty minutes of time I could have spent doing something more productive, on dragging me to this trash bucket.

"You will thank me later," he calmly said.

I starred at him, but he just opened the door, "Ladies first," I told him.

He rolled his eyes at me and entered, but before I could go though the door, it shut.

"Wow, thanks Neal," I said aloud to myself.

I opened the door, but Neal wasn't standing there waiting for me. There was a long dark hallway, and to the right was something bright. This caught my attention, and I started walking toward the light. As I turned the corner, a man sat on a pillow in the middle of the floor, a table in front of him filled with bottles.

"Ah, Maylen. I've waited fourteen years for this," the man said. He had gray whiskers on his chin and was wearing a red robe.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" I asked, confused, "And how do you know my name?"

"Ah, I know many things, but that is not why you're here, for me to tell you my secrets. You're here for you," the strange man said.

Neal walked out from a corner, and stood next to me.

"Thank you for bringing her, Neal," the man continued.

"Wait! Neal, what is this man's name?" I yelled.

"His name is-" Neal started.

"My name is The Dragon." The man sitting on the floor finished.

* * *

"Maylen, I was walking downtown one day last week, and I decided to take a short cut through this ally way to the candy shop. I tripped over a crack, and when I got up, I noticed this shop that hadn't been here before," Neal told me, "he's The Dragon." He pointed to the man.

"Ok, Dragon, why I'm I here?" I asked him.

He got up, but didn't​say anything, yet he turned to his little table of potions and began mixing.

"Neal, what is he doing?" I frantically asked him.

"Do you remember back at the apartment when I asked you if you ever want to find your family?" He said, "Well, he has magic. He can make us remember."

"What is there to remember?" I asked. I just wanted to get out of this place, it gave you a false sense of security.

"Those dreams you've been having," Neal continued as The Dragon continued to mix his bottles of blue, purple, and green potions, "I've been having dreams too."

I looked at him confused. What was he getting at?

"This isn't who we are. We aren't orphans who live in New York because our parents gave us up. We have a different past. I don't remember, but that is why I'm here. I had to bring you here for The Dragon to make memory potion. He's going to help us." Neal finished.

I wanted to believe him. I did believe him. This is my dream, my family. But what about Claire and Char. Are they truly orphans?

"Are we ready?" Asked The Dragon, holding up two potions, each a light blue.

Neal and I nodded in unison. I took the bottle and held it in my hand. Honestly, I was nervous. I looked to Neal. It's was like we were thinking the same thing. We need this.

At the same time, Neal and I lifted the bottle to our mouths and drank the small amount of liquid. I started to feel dizzy, then fell to the floor.

* * *

Neal's POV:

I drank the bottle, and dropped to the floor. All of the sudden, I see my mother, Snow White, and my father, Prince Charming, in Granny's diner, and my sister Emma holding me. I can see me in my crib, my mom at my side. I can see many things in Storybrooke. But one thing I remember most. My last moment with my parents. I was put in the well basket, and lowered into the green smoke. My parents rushed to my side. They tried to grab me, but it was too late. Neal Charming was in New York, sitting in the doorway of room 102.

Maylen's POV:

Images of my mother and father appeared in my head, rapidly changing. My mother, Emma Swan, held me in her arms one time after I was born. My father, Killian Jones, kissed my forehead. Green smoke filled the room. My mother put a necklace with an image of a swan on it around my neck. This was the same scene in my dreams, except this time I wasn't​ confused. I remembered. I disappeared from my mother and father, and was left stranded in the doorway of room 102, with a red haired baby at my side. Micah.

* * *

We awoke with a start, and I immediately stood up. Neal was looking at me.

"Neal?" I rushed over and hugged him. Wait, I had to think this through. If I am the daughter of Emma Swan, and her brother is Neal, then he is my uncle. Uncle. I repeated the words in my head over and over again. After all this time.

"Maylen!" He hugged me back, "Daughter of Emma Swan and Killian Jones. How does it feel to know?"

I starred at him with a small, light smile on my face.

"It's like I was hidden from a life I was never supposed to know-" I started.

"And it feels wonderful!" We finished in unison.