Carlos continues staring into the mirror as if he's just seen a literal ghost. He looks down at the cut on his hand and then back at the mirror. The copper colouring remains around the looking glass and glows slightly as if it had reacted to his blood. The image of this version of his mother is crystal clear, an obvious shift from the hazy mess that had been there when he first entered the shop. He suddenly realizes that the mirror shows a family member connected through their bloodline.
"Why are you still in my reflection?!" the vain puppy-hater barks. "I must ensure that my makeup is applied correctly."
"It's the mirror I'm looking through," Carlos explains. "It uses blood to connect a person with their family members."
The woman rolls her eyes, scoffing at the very suggestion. "Please darling, I have no living relatives, I was sure of that because they're all down here with me."
"Down here?" Carlos asks. He has noticed the continuous red tint around the image of his mother, but until now he'd thought it was an effect from the mirror itself. "What does that mean? Where are you?"
"Are you serious?" the wicked woman snorts, lighting herself a cigarette, knowing she wasn't getting out of this conversation any time soon. "I thought every brat of Storybrooke knew what happened to me."
"I don't. Mom, what happened to you? Why can't I find you?"
"STOP CALLING ME YOUR MOTHER!" she barks so loudly that the mirror actually rattles with the volume of her voice. The sheer loudness of her banshee-like scream causes Carlos to step back and touch his ears to ensure that he would not go deaf from her tantrum. "I am sure that I have NEVER become a mother. To lose such a gorgeous figure would be much too costly to my self-esteem... and to throw my life's work and money away for merely providing a brat with food and shelter is hardly worth my time."
The comment hurts the son of Cruella De Vil. Clearly, this version of his mother is just as bad as his own, maybe even worse in some ways.
His wretched mother on the Isle hardly gave him anything, in fact, the only reason she'd had him in the first place was so she'd have someone to guard her furs collection. In fact, he had a lumpy mattress in a tiny room next to her furs closet as a bedroom and had to bypass all the bear traps meant to be a security system in order to actually feel safe. She didn't give him any attention, he was treated like one of her henchmen or even a slave; doing all her chores and her constant cruelty and berating of her own son. She'd made him afraid of dogs and deprived him of anything ideal; in fact, Evie had become his first friend because she gave him a pillow for the first time. He had not been sorry when he'd left the Isle and became the person he wanted to be, and he had the most loyal friend of all, Dude, a dog, which made his mother furious and gave him the satisfaction of finally being free of her influence. He had the love of Jane as his girlfriend and all this came from real love and affection; none of which came from his poor excuse for a mother.
The way this Cruella is treating him, makes him wonder that any version of Cruella De Vil should never have children. He starts regretting ever wondering where his mother was in this town because clearly, she was no picnic to interact with either.
"You're right, I'm sorry I disturbed you, good luck wherever you are," he mutters and then turns to leave. He reaches down onto the floor to retrieve the cloth that once covered the mirror, ready to put this incident of encountering his "alternate" mother behind him.
...
Meanwhile, in the Underworld, Cruella is fuming over what this bratty child has insinuated... her as a... mother. The thought made her want to vomit. She could hardly imagine it at all, she hated children, she thought they were wastes of space and the fact that her mother locked her away as a child, made her hate it even more. Children were meant to be locked up and kept away from everyone, that's what she'd learned. She also knew that it was because of a child that she was here. She'd abducted Henry Mills, the Saviour's son, she'd threatened to throw the worthless child off a cliff, taunting Emma Swan to find another way and that heroes don't kill, but instead she ended up being pushed off the cliff to her death. She'd encountered the idiot blonde again and tried to throw her into the River of Lost Souls as revenge, but was thwarted yet again, plus she'd lost her precious boy toy, James in the ensuing battle. Since losing her opportunity to go back to the land of the living, the woman had been stewing in hatred and despair for quite some time, "dying" a miserable existence in the world now ruled by King Arthur. She would never move on to a better life... she saw herself as the darkness that makes goodness possible and therefore the true hero of the story. In fact, she was eviller than the Dark One himself and a manifestation of true darkness.
But now, here stands a boy in her mirror, with awful white hair with black roots which was seemingly meant to match her own style in some ways and wore a horrendous outfit that had no fur accessories, claiming that she is his mother. It completely infuriates her and yet... he seems to be from the land of the living, obviously encountering this mirror that allowed her to see him and vice versa. He seemed to want to know more about her... this could be useful to her, in fact, this could be her ticket back to the world of the living. She would be able to unleash hell and finally get even with the wretched heroes of Storybrooke, especially the blonde Saviour.
Bite her ruby red lip very hard, hating the concept of being a mother, she swallows the bile in her throat and begins to talk sweetly. Her heart pounds against her chest as the boy seems to gather up a white sheet, realizing what he's about to do.
"Oh, darling boy... please... I'm sorry for my outburst, your information just... startled me and I acted horribly. Please, tell me your name..."
...
Back in Gold's shop, Carlos pauses as he's about to cover the mirror. The sweetness of her voice is almost hypnotic, a much better tone than his real mother ever spoke to him in. He stops and lets the sheet drop to gaze into the mirror again. The woman's hardened expression has seemingly softened and her blood red lips hued in the red coloured air seem to glow as she puts on a smile.
He's still hesitant, unsure of why her disposition changed so suddenly. Did she want something from him? Did she accept the fact that she was a mother? Or was she really just startled by the information as she claimed...?
"Why would you want to know that?" he says skeptically. "You said you weren't my mother."
"I'm sorry I got so angry with you, Child," Cruella continues. "But as you can see, I am not in the best place right now."
"Why? Where are you?" the son asks, inevitably drawn in by this woman.
"I am in the Underworld. Do you know what that means?"
Before Carlos can answer, he hears the sound of keys jingling and footsteps at the front door of the shop. He's in so much shock from this information that he barely has time to cover the mirror and try to hide before it opens with the ring of a bell. He ducks behind a glass case of artifacts and tries to hold his breath.
His mind is a whirlwind... the Underworld... His "alternate" mother is in the Underworld, like where Hades lives... Was she dead?
This realization makes him feel sad, despite how many times he'd wished the Grim Reaper would visit his own mother. The thought still makes him sick as Ben's father walks into the shop. His aged face is cast in half a shadow, very appropriate for the Dark One if Carlos can remember the story correctly. In light of the new information that he's received, he now has a new problem involving being caught in the Dark One's shop. He covers his hand with his mouth to muffle his breathing and tries to shrink into a tiny ball to avoid being detected. He can feel tears pushing to edges of his eyes as he sees the man through the thick glass of the display case.
Rumpelstiltskin stands in his shop for a long moment, much longer than Carlos would like him to. Did the imp know that he was here? What would he do if he was caught? He'd known that Uma had broken in the day before... would he be put in jail too?
The older man then goes behind the counter of his establishment, and rummages through some things, selects what he requires and then slowly walks back to the front door. Each footstep on the creaky wooden floorboards is agonizing for Carlos, his heart in his throat and the sweat beading on her forehead to maintain the position he is in. His body is aching in various places from crumpling up into a tight ball.
It is only when the bell rings again, signalling the front door opening and the firm slamming of the said door that the son of Cruella De Vil finally relaxes. He waits a few more moments before even moving, trying not to be caught. He slowly stands up, peering over the case to make sure that no one is there. He then turns back towards the covered mirror, ready to continue his conversation. He pulls off the sheet to realize that the once copper coloured frame has reverted back to black, the opaque haze and cracked looking-glass has reappeared. Upset that he didn't get a chance to continue with his mother, he reaches forward, ready to prick his finger again when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He curses under his breath.
He got a text from Jay.
Jay: Dude, where are you? Just woke up and am in the mood for pancakes. MM and David already here, plan to have a group meeting soon. Hope ur ready...
Groaning internally, Carlos takes another long glance at the mirror. He's desperate to know how his "alternate" mother died and why her demeanour changed so suddenly, but he knows if he stays away from his friends too long, they'll get suspicious, plus they should really be looking at ways to get home to their realm.
Praying that there will be enough time for him to visit the enchanted mirror again, the son of Cruella covers it with the sheet again and heads towards the door of the shop.
A/N: Sorry it's been a while, but here's a new chapter for you.