A/N: So, this is just something that popped in my head one day, and now it's possessing my life night and day. No big deal or anything. I am aware that I have another story that is ongoing, and I'm neglecting the hell out of that, but this one is moving along so much faster. What are you going to do, amiright? This story is a total change of pace from anything else I've written here. Tell me what you think!

The first person to come and wake me up that morning was my mom. I was lying face-down in bed, snoring contentedly into my pillow, dreaming about food mostly. Then, my mother's voice drifted into my head, coaxing me gently from my sleep.

"Ava, dear," she said in that throaty, comforting voice. It was a warm voice, the same that had talked me down from nightmares and soothed me for as long as I could remember. "It's time to wake up and get ready for school. Breakfast will be ready shortly."

"Ugh," I groaned back as her fingers combed gently through my hair. "Be down in a minute."

"Alright, but you'd better get up." She walked back out the door, closing it softly behind her. I dropped my face right back into my pillow and drifted back to sleep with breakfast on my mind. Pancakes. Bacon. Eggs. Waffles. Everything good in life.

My door was opened again, but I didn't wake at the sound of it. Nor did I wake at the footsteps crossing the hardwood floors, hitting a few squeaky floorboards. And I certainly didn't notice anyone standing over me as I slept. However, I did wake when a body suddenly jumped next to me on the bed, and a pair of hands attacked my sides, tickling my rib cage manically.

"Stop!" I squealed out, wriggling and laughing uncontrollably. "Let me go!"

"Didn't your mother tell you to get up?" I caught a flash of long, blonde hair through my narrowed, watering eyes. "Didn't she, Ava Isabelle?"

"Ma stop it!" I wheezed, pushing at her hands frantically. "Stop tickling me!"

"Are you awake now, young lady?" My other mother questioned. "Tell me you're awake, and I'll stop."

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" I cried out in surrender, and her fingers relented at last. I sucked in deep breaths, chest rolling, before looking over at my mother who laid beside me, grinning proudly. Her green eyes sparkled with mirth, one arm still locked around my neck. "You're a creep, you know that?"

"I am not a creep," she said back with feigned offense. "I am your mother, young lady. Are you trying to break my heart?"

"You apparently just tried to break my ribs," I remarked, rubbing my sides and wincing. "And you almost succeeded, too."

"You're just being a baby," she rolled her eyes at me before squeezing me close. "My little baby girl!" She planted kisses all over my face while I fought against her, frowning as I tried to pry her arms off me.

"Well, look at this." We both looked up to see my mom standing in the doorway, arms crossed as she leaned against the frame. She was dressed as impeccably as always in a dark blue dress, black hair styled to perfection. Her makeup was flawlessly applied, and ruby-red lips quirked up in a smirk at us as cognac eyes glimmered. She was picture perfect—the exact opposite of my mother and me. "What exactly happened here?"

"Ma tried to maul me like a wild animal. I probably have bruises."

"You're so dramatic," Ma teased, finally releasing her hold on me. I sat up in bed, shaking my mahogany brown tresses out over my shoulders. "If you would've woken up when your mom came in earlier, I wouldn't have had to bring down the thunder and the lightning."

"Weird-o," I mumbled, but there was an undeniable smile on my lips. Moving to the mirror on the wall, I assessed the damage of that morning. My hair was a mess of tangles, and I yanked my brush through it. I took in my face, checking for any surprise bumps or zits. Ever since entering what I liked to call "pre-womanhood", I'd been terrified of my hormones raging war on my face. Not that I was vain or anything, but nobody wants to be called a pizza-face. Thankfully, my complexion had been spared so far with the only blemishes being the freckles that I'd had all my life. Mom moved behind me, pulling my hair back over my shoulders and smiling at me. Her fingers weaved through each strand expertly, braiding them loosely.

"You look beautiful," she told me, and Ma appeared on my other side, hands on her hips and smile on her face. I looked between the two of them then at my own reflection. A perfect mixture of the two women. I had my mom's lips but my ma's nose. My creamy skin tone was a cross somewhere between Mom's olive and Ma's fair pink. And then there were the eyes. My eyes were the first thing anyone ever noticed about me, and who could blame them, really? They were extremely striking. My right eye was deep, amber brown like my mom's, warm and fiery. My left one, though, was the same blue-green as my ma's, changing shades every hour. Stuff like that happened when you were the direct product of True Love's magic.

"Thanks, but I look like somebody who just got attacked by a maniac," I said back, wiping the sleep from my eyes and yawning. "Which I did. I have to get ready for school. Hey, Mom, did you ever find that ancestry book thing you were talking about? We're supposed to turn in that family tree project at the end of the week, and today we need to bring a research resource in to show that we're making progress. I've got Ma's side covered—Gran and Gramps helped me out with that, but I still need something on your side."

"There's a book downstairs in my study. It's got my family records in it—you can take that in."

"Ava, the principal is your grandmother," Ma said as I changed out of my pajamas and stepped into my jeans. "When are you going to take advantage of that and start shirking your responsibilities? Seriously, are you even my child?"

"Emma," Mom scoffed at her, though we both knew Ma was just joking.

"It's not necessarily a good thing, y'know. I mean, yeah, it can be, but mostly it just means I'm held to a higher standard than everybody else. And if I get in trouble at school, I get to hear about it at home for days. Not to mention it means I'm automatically signed up to help with every extra-curricular program because Gran volunteers me. If I have to be the water-dunk contestant for one more charity fair, I'm going to lose it."

"I told you to pull the loving granddaughter card more often," Ma advised. "Puppy-dog eyes. Shaking of the lower lip. The whole package. Always works for me. After me and your mother got together, your gran thought she'd never get anymore grandkids out of me. You're her magical miracle—work that angle, Ava."

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Mom cocked an eyebrow at her, arms crossed.

"Yeah, but you married me." Ma grinned, moving to her side and pulling her in her arms. "So, now I'm your idiot—forever." She kissed my mom, who smiled into her lips.

"Hey, ugh, no!" I glared at them. "Get out of here with that gross crap!"

"Don't you want to know how you were conceived?" Ma wiggled her eyebrows, and I grimaced. "It was more than just magic, y'know."

"I swear, sometimes it's like you two are just trying to traumatize me into adulthood."

"We love you, too, dear." Mom beamed as Ma stood behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist.

The three of us walked downstairs to the kitchen where breakfast was waiting. Mom poured herself out a cup of coffee while Ma and I made ourselves a couple cups of cinnamon-sprinkled hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream like always.

"You two are going to rot your teeth out," Mom told us just as she did every morning.

"Risk I'm willing to take," we said simultaneously and shared a smirk between each other. I grabbed a strip of bacon from the plate on the island counter and popped it in my mouth.

"Has anyone talked to Henry lately?" I questioned.

"He called this morning while you were still sleeping," Mom answered. "He said the new book tour is going well so far. Hopefully, he'll be home in another few days."

"Good. He could help me out with the family tree thing. I think he'd like it, too. Tracing our roots back and all that." I glanced at the clock on the stove. "I have to go—Neal's probably waiting for me already. You said the book is on your desk, right? I'll just grab it and go."

"Alright, dear," Mom called as I rushed into her office. "Be careful and have a good day. Tell Neal we said hello."

"Don't cause any trouble!" Ma called after me. "Hate for them to have to call the Sheriff on you." She wore her badge proudly on her hip with a grin as if she was actually being witty.

"Wasn't funny when you said it yesterday, isn't funny today," I called back, grabbing the book on my mom's desk, and I shouldered my book bag that waited for me by the door. "Bye! Love you!"

I was out the door in an instant, tucking a beanie on over my hair as their "love you too's" echoed behind me. Taking the stairs two at a time, I opened the front gate and made my way out onto the sidewalk where my uncle—though I refused to call him that since we were, after all, the same age—Neal Nolan was waiting for me with a smile. His curly blonde hair was trimmed neatly, and his Charming-blue eyes glimmered at me.

"Hello, Clarice," he greeted in a voice that sounded eerily like Anthony Hopkins. I rolled my eyes. A few years ago, Neal had taken up mimicking everything. Movies. Shows. People. Everything. He claimed impressionism was his passion in life. I claimed he was stupid.

"Shut up," I said shortly.

"About time you showed up. Almost froze to death out here waiting on you."

We fell into step together, headed for school. "Don't exaggerate. It's not that cold."

"What's that?" He nodded to the black leather-bound book under my arm. "Looks old."

"Mom's family records. For that ancestry project."

"Oh man! We were supposed to bring in a book today, weren't we? Shit, I forgot! Mom's going to kill me!"

"You can share the one I'm bringing on Ma's side." I looked down at the cover of the book curiously. "Hey, does this look weird to you?" He peered over my shoulder, brow knit at the cover. There were strange symbols and runes written on it that looked ancient. "What is that? Spanish?"

"Sure, Ava. It's Spanish. That's why it's written in hieroglyphs instead of letters." I rolled my eyes at him before looking back to the book. "I thought your mom was teaching you Spanish."

"I'm not very good at it. We both gave up after, like, a week." Opening the book up, I frowned. Inside were more of the odd symbols. "Weird. I think I grabbed the wrong book." I ran my hand over the dusty pages, and the words glowed purple at my touch, warming against my fingertips. Neal and I shared a wide-eyed look. "Whoa."

"I don't know about this book, Ava. That's magic—I know it when I see it."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." He cut his eyes at me. "It's definitely magic, and it feels powerful." I flipped the pages, absorbing the scribbles and the strong, commanding feeling that rose off them.

"I don't think you should be messing around with that. I mean, it could mean trouble. You know how dangerous magic is."

"Only if you don't know what you're doing."

"Yeah, and neither of us do!"

"Speak for yourself, amateur. I'm basically made of magic, dude. Mom and Ma like to tell me I'm not to make me feel more normal, but I know biology. No way I popped out without some supernatural assistance."

"Yeah, and that alone should be enough to keep you away from this stuff. Your moms are like super powerful and great at magic, and they made you by accident." I glared at him. "No offense, but it's true. Not even they can control magic sometimes. No way we can."

"It's a book, Neal. You can't cast a curse just by looking in a book. There are steps to it. You need ingredients and all that." I turned the page again, and a mushroom-cloud of dust erupted from the movement. Floating up in my face, the particles entered my nose, and I felt the telling tickle in my nostrils. Before I could pull the book away, I sneezed. The words on the page swept up into the air, dancing in a whirlwind before freezing. They glowed purple again before vanishing in a plume of smoke.

"The hell was what?" I mumbled.

Neal shrugged. "Don't know. Don't want to know. This stuff gives me the creeps. We should go before we're late for—"

The ground began to tremble beneath us violently, and we fell to our knees, grasping onto each other's arms for stability.

"What the hell is this?" Neal shouted at me over the loud rumbling.

"An earthquake!" I answered.

"In Storybrooke? Since when?"

"I don't know! Maybe it's—"

Suddenly, the pavement beneath us cracked and split open, swallowing us both. Our screams rang out as we tumbled down into cold, blinding darkness.