Hello (Once Upon A Time/Marvel Fanfic)

2. Henry

Mystery Girl. So far, I'd discovered that she was seventeen, an eighth Latina, she was the child of Thor and Jane Foster, and at least once a year, she magically woke up in an alternate dimension just to keep it interesting. While her name meant 'she who brings happiness,' at least according to Lilly, her actual name had yet to be spoken. With that logic, her name could be Alisa, Beatrice, Trixie, or anything else, really.

Jemma was sleeping with her head in my lap while Killian drove us back to Storybrooke. Mom fell asleep with her head against the window, therefore, unable to protest his horrible music taste: Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkin Park, Nickleback, etc. I was currently trying to get to my earbuds so I could drown out a glorious Green Day album without waking Jemma up. Don't get me wrong; they were a good band, but after listening to the same album on repeat for roughly seven hours, I was done. Just as I thought that I succeeded in not waking Jemma up, her arm flew across my lap, stopping my arm from getting the earbuds.

"No," she grumbled, snatching my earbuds. "No music. You like loud music. Too early for loud music."

"But I've been listening to Green Day on repeat for seven hours," I whisper complained in her ear.

"It's not my fault you didn't sleep. It's two in the morning, after all. And I'm tired," she whined.

"It's nine in the morning. You've been sleeping for seven hours. Which is how long I've been listening to this," I explained.

"Fine. But let's listen to my music," Jemma commanded, plugging her music in. A sweet sounding poppy ballad filled my ears. Jemma knew every word and tapped them on my knee while she hummed along. I wanna love you more than all of the things you wanted than all of the things you're not. You want to have it all, but you found it in the city, but the city doesn't talk, she tapped.

"Killian, how long until we're in Storybrooke?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

"Look out your window," he said.

Thank goodness. We were passing Granny's just as he spoke. "Will you drop us off at Granny's?" Jemma asked. "I want cheese fries for breakfast."

"And lunch, and dinner," Henry joked as Killian stopped the car.

"Not true. I'll probably have French toast for dinner. Or waffles, maybe, just to mix it up," Jemma laughed as we got out of the car.

Her hair was tossed up in a messy bun. Her Mjölnir tee was a size too big and was tied in a knot on the side to keep it from covering her shorts. That's Jemma.

Jemma suddenly stopped walking. "My feet hurt. Carry me," she sighed.

"It's literally ten feet to Granny's. I think you can manage," I criticized.

"But, but, it's too far," Jemma complained.

Rolling my eyes, I allowed her to hop on my back. I set her down at one of the bar stools where Ruby brought out the usual oatmeal and hot chocolate with cinnamon for me and cheese fries with a cherry coke for Jemma.

"Nun alert," Ruby whispered as she walked by. Jemma and I quickly switched plates and drinks like we'd done a million times before. If Mother Superior found out that Jem put anything in her body that might damage it in a few years, she would have a heart attack. She would have died years ago if she even knew a sliver of what Jem really ate.

"Hey, Mom," Jemma smirked, forcing down a microscopic spoonful of slop. After living with her for long enough, the head nun gave up on her calling her anything but Mom around year fourteen.

"I saw Emma's car so I figured you were in here. Why didn't you tell me you were coming back early?" Mother Superior scolded.

"It was two in the morning when we rushed back here and I was dead asleep and I assumed you would be as well, also, too," Jemma smiled, gulping the hot chocolate to rid herself of the horrible oatmeal. I never understood her problem; oatmeal was great.

"A text still would have been nice. I expect you back at the church by ten."

With that, she turned around without another word.

"She's having one of her good days," I chuckled, taking back my oatmeal.

"You're telling me," Jemma sighed, stuffing a few fries in her mouth.

Mother Superior had always been extremely rough on Jemma. They fought more than a normal mother/daughter did over stupid things. Jemma not becoming a nun, wanting to date, not being the world's most dedicated Catholic, you name it.

But the last straw was when Jemma wanted stay over at my house for a night. All chaos broke loose; Jem wasn't allowed near the church for three weeks. It wasn't romantic or anything. We were twelve and she wanted to have a sleepover with her best friend. She was the only eighth grader that never had a sleepover. Grandma and Grandpa took her in immediately, and kept her for a few weeks after the fight cleared up, just to be sure. Jemma and Mother Superior never truly healed from that. It broke Jemma's heart.

"I should get going. She said ten o'clock, but she means ten minutes. She hates me," Jemma sighed, eating a few more fries before leaving. I, of course, had to follow.

It took me a moment to catch up to her, but when I did, Jemma was standing frozen as a statue staring at an incredibly tall man. He was wearing a blue tee and khakis. His blue eyes glossed over with worry, his blond hair ruffled as if he hadn't slept in days. A rough layer of stubble crept across his chin.

"Henry, do you see him?" Jem whispered.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"No you don't, this is all in my head."

"I am standing right here," the man said.

"Are you Captain America?" Jemma squeaked.

"More or less, yeah. Um, I'm looking for my niece. I've traced her to here, but no one has seen her. Do you know where she is?" Steve asked, handing me a picture of...

"Mystery Girl," I smiled. "Good news, I know where she is. Bad news, she's in another dimension."

"Oh, Beatrix," he sighed.