A/N: This is a sequel to "Out of the Eater." You probably won't be too lost if you just read this, but it would help to go back and read the first story.

With time, she healed.

When the seasons changed, she and Dr. Hopper took to walking through town during their sessions. He called it immersion therapy. They would walk across town with Pongo, chatting about mundane things, all the while with Dr. Hopper reminding her of her breathing exercises. She liked walking with him well enough. He was a kind man, though easily flustered. Isabel frequently found herself advising him on personal matters, though anyone who knew better would have probably avoided her advice as she'd warned him. Her track record with relationships was poor, though if you ascribed to the notion that you could learn more from failure than from success, she was just the woman to ask.

When strolling outside became easy enough, Isabel took up jogging. It was something she had enjoyed before. Though she was winded after only half a mile, simply getting out and going had been exhilarating. Jogging focused her mind on only what was right ahead of her. By the time it was warm enough to go out without a jacket, Isabel was recuperated well enough to enjoy Storybrooke's spring festival.

It seemed that Storybrooke couldn't turn down any excuse to have a street festival. They celebrated the return of spring with food booths and an outdoor concert. Everyone crowded onto the main street to meander up and down eating fried foods and enjoying the hour's entertainment. Both Emma and Mary Margaret had started to fret over it weeks ahead of time.

Emma was busy with crowd control for the event. She'd deputized several members of the elementary school PTA to help her keep track of the crowd. It wasn't as though there would be a riot, but Emma wanted to be safe rather than sorry.

Mary Margaret's class was scheduled to sing on the main stage twice. She left for the elementary school early on the morning of the festival to make sure that the last few details were in place.

And so, Isabel went to the spring festival alone.

There were plenty of people out and about when she arrived. She wandered down the street, stopping to talk to a few of those who she knew, but otherwise simply soaking in the atmosphere. Where once she'd been a curious sight, now the rest of the town accepted her. Isabel had proved to be normal and the gossip mongers of Storybrooke had quickly forgotten her and moved on to more fruitful sources.

In among the booths selling lemonade and funnel cakes, was an old flower lady. She sat on stool surrounded by buckets full of tulips, carnations, lilies, and crocuses in a myriad of colors. Isabel had the woman wrap up a bouquet of yellow crocuses and white lilies to give to Mary Margaret after her first performance of the day. She leaned over to examine some of the roses while the woman arranged the bouquet for her. They were sweet yet delicate. English roses grown somewhere far, far away from Storybrooke.

"Do you prefer white or red?" asked a man's voice from behind her.

Isabel looked back to find Mr. Gold. She had not seen him since she'd abandoned him.

"Red," she said.

As the flower lady passed Isabel the bouquet and her change, Mr. Gold asked her for a single red rose. Isabel stood there, unsure of what to do, while the woman trimmed the rose's stem and wrapped it up in wax paper with baby's breath. She presented it to Mr. Gold who in turn offered it to Isabel.

"Thank you," she said, raising the rose to enjoy its scent. Isabel seemed to recall, if only extremely vaguely, that she'd smelled a rose just like this before, but somewhere else.

"Are you enjoying the festival?" he asked.

Mr. Gold was quite restrained, even for himself. He reminded her of an Austen hero.

"It's very nice. I haven't been to one of these in a long time. I didn't expect to see you here."

And she hadn't. He'd never been the type to attend Storybrooke's many public festivals, from what she remembered of him. He didn't profit off of them and they generally shut down streets and otherwise interfered with regular life. Isabel could recall a few times that he'd sponsored events or groups, but never of him having put in an appearance at any such events. She hadn't prepared to face him. It was the only scenario it seemed that she hadn't worked through with Dr. Hopper. Isabel had yet to even tell the doctor of her past with Mr. Gold.

"I didn't expect to come," Mr. Gold replied.

"Well, I hope you enjoy it."

He nodded to her then waded back into the crowd.

Isabel reminded herself to lay off on the Austen for a while.