"Where is it I've read that someone condemned to death says or think, an hour before his death, that if he had to live on some high rock, on such a narrow ledge that he'd only room to stand, and the ocean, everlasting darkness, everlasting solitude, everlasting tempest around him, if he had to remain standing on a square yard of space all his life, a thousand years, eternity, it were better to live so than to die at once! Only to live, to live and live! Life, whatever it may be!"
—Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, Ch. 13
When left alone with your thoughts, there are two possible things that can happen: one, every sound in the room will be amplified; the ticking of the clock, the creaking of the structure of the building, the hum of the air purifier—all these noises that you had never noticed before suddenly become almost maddeningly loud. Or two, you become so engrossed in your thoughts that the very opposite happens: you hear nothing, and the world around you is effectively shut out.
For Mary Margaret, the second was true. And then a sudden bang! as the door (which she had not heard open) was closed. Her head whipped up and she spun around to see her lawyer hang his scarf up on the the hat-rack next to the door.
"Oh! Mr. Gold! You surprised me," gasped Mary Margaret.
"I get that a lot," said Mr. Gold. He strode over to the cell, pulled up a chair and sat down. "We're going to begin preparing your case."
"Oh," said Mary Margaret. She sat down on the edge of her bed closest to the bars. "So … what exactly does that involve?"
Mr. Gold reached into his briefcase and pulled out a brand-new legal pad. He drew a pen out of his pocket and uncapped it.
"We're going to try to establish that you were insane at the time of the alleged crime."
Mary Margaret jumped to her feet. "WHAT! We're not trying to cop an insanity plea, we're trying to show that I'm innocent, you moron!"
Mr. Gold glared at her. "Insulting an attorney is a federal offense, so you'd better watch it, missy," he said, shaking his pen at her.
Mary Margaret glared at him and sat down again. Mr. Gold began to scribble on the pad.
"All right, I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions."
"Shoot," muttered Mary Margaret.
"Corn or flour tortillas?"
"What?"
"Corn … or … flour … tortillas."
"What kind of stupid question is that?" said Mary Margaret.
"We're trying to establish the character of the defendant," said Mr. Gold. "It's been known to sway many a case."
"You know what, I think this is a bunch of nonsense! I don't believe for a second that you're capable of being my lawyer. … How did you ever get the judge to drop the charges against you? … You just exerted your influence, didn't you? Huh?"
"Well, in a … way," said Mr. Gold, rubbing the back of his head.
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Mary Margaret.
"I … um … took my shirt off," said Mr. Gold.
"WHAT?" said Mary Margaret.
"In a strange turn of events, the original judge was incapacitated, so they had to get a stand-in, and the only person who could legally fulfill the role was a teenage girl who had a thing for older men."
Mary Margaret's shoulders slumped, and she leaned back against the wall of the cell. Tears began to roll down her cheeks.
"Hopeless. The whole thing is hopeless," she said, choking on half-stifled sobs. Before the situation could get any more awkward, the door opened and Emma and Ruby walked in, holding bagged lunches.
"We're back!" announced Emma.
"Hi, Mary M.!" said Ruby. "We thought you might like some lunch, so we brought you a sandwich and some lemonade."
"How nice of you," said Mary Margaret, wiping her eyes as quickly and inconspicuously as possible.
"We're not interrupting anything, I hope," said Emma.
"No …" said Mr. Gold.
Mary Margaret flashed a fake smile at the women.
"Something's wrong, isn't it?" said Emma suddenly. Mary Margaret broke down and began to sob.
"I'm DONE FOR," she choked out. "My lawyer is not only the meanest, sneakiest, most low-down conniving man in town—"
"Don't you want that in a lawyer?" interrupted Emma.
Mary Margaret continued, paying no attention: "—but he's an incompetent, fraudulent stripper and I'm going to GET. THE. CHAIR. Oh, Emma! With my whole life ahead of me! There's so much I haven't done yet! I haven't even found where the heating vent in my room is! That's something everyone should do before they die, isn't it? Know where the heating vent in their room is." She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and began to sob some more.
"There, there," said Ruby, taking Mary Margaret's hand in hers and rubbing it gently. "Maybe your lawyer will keep his clothes on for your trial."
Emma glared at her.
"Did I say the wrong thing?" said Ruby.
"Have you been taking David lessons?" sobbed Mary Margaret.
"If it will make you feel better, do you want me to kick Mr. Gold in the gonads for you?" said Ruby.
"WHAT?" said Mr. Gold, Mary Margaret and Emma in unison.
"Gonads: the reproductive organs," said Ruby. "I've been taking anatomy classes at Storybrooke Community College," she added by way of explanation. "I've been thinking of my future, and you know what? I've decided I want to go into field biology and study the mating and migratory habits of lemurs, so I've been taking classes with Ashley so I can eventually transfer and get my bachelor's, and from there …"
"Ashley? Ashley's taking classes too?" said Emma.
"Yup," said Ruby. "She's trying to turn her life around, get a fresh start, create a better future for herself. She said that some imp tricked her into giving up her baby once, and she's trying to make up for it."
Mr. Gold coughed.
"What's she studying to become?" asked Emma.
"A ninja," said Ruby.
Everybody just stood around staring at each other.
"With a minor in computational biology," continued Ruby. Before the conversation could get any more awkward, the door opened again and in walked Henry and David.
"Hey," said Henry.
"Hey," said David.
"Henry, aren't you supposed to be in school?" said Emma.
"Well, now that Grandma's in jail, Dr. Hopper had to sub for our class, and he's lecturing on Neuromuscular and Behavioral Aspects of Motor Control for science class."
"We were supposed to be making baking-soda-and-vinegar volcanos," said Mary Margaret with a frown.
"David, what are you doing here?" said Ruby.
"I came to see Mary Margaret," said David. "I brought her this. … Can I?" he addressed the latter to Emma.
"Sure, don't see why not," said Emma.
David slipped a box through the bars.
"Oh, David! How sweet … Pokemon-shaped oatmeal cookies."
"And this," said David. He placed a card in Mary Margaret's hands.
"'Get out of jail soon'?" read Mary Margaret.
"It's like a 'Get well soon' card," said David.
"You have the knack of saying the most … interesting things," said Mary Margaret. David beamed.
Mary Margaret turned away and pretended to be coughing so no one would see her weep into her sleeve.
"Since when did Hallmark start making those?" said Ruby.
"Well, I've got good news," said Henry.
"What?" said Emma.
"I think I've got evidence that will prove that my mom is behind all this."
Everybody spun around to face Henry.
"It was quite simple, really," said Henry. "Once she left for her Jazzercise class, I conducted a thorough search of her office and bedroom. I found quite a lot. Not only did I find her key-ring, but I found a saved file of the forged phone records, her chamber of hearts underneath her dad's grave, and her secret stash of Nicholas Sparks novels."
Before the conversation could get any more awkward, the door was flung open and in strode Regina.
"Henry! Why aren't you in school?"
"Class was cancelled when the kids all fell asleep during Dr. Hopper's lecture and one kid started sleepwalking and somehow got trapped on the roof doing the Macarena and the firemen had to be called in to get him down."
"Are you in any way behind this, Sheriff Swan?" Regina demanded.
"No! No, of course not."
"And what are you all doing here?" Regina continued. "Especially you, Mr. Gold?"
"I'm her lawyer," said Mr. Gold with a smug smile. "She's going to need all the help she can get."
Regina glared at him.
"Um, actually, he's not," said Mary Margaret hastily. "I've found a new one."
"Who?" said Emma.
"Nicholas Zimmer."
"Nicholas Zimmer? As in that kid? You're joking, right?"
"Well, he played Atticus Finch in our school play."
"Oh, you guys put on To Kill a Mockingbird? I love that book!" said Ruby.
"Actually, it was Nutrition and the Four Food Groups. Atticus had a cameo part," explained Mary Margaret.
"Wasn't that the one where his sister played an onion … and that other kid played an amino acid … and Henry played the diseased colon?" said Regina with a frown.
"Uh-huh," said Mary Margaret.
"What a stupid play," said Regina.
"Twenty-five kids in food suits, forgetting their lines," said Mr. Gold. "It was quite charming, actually. Ah! Kids. Cherish your time with them. Before you know it … they're gone."
"Thank you for that totally unsolicited advice," said Regina.
"In retrospect, we could have done without the singing and dancing salmonella bacterium," said Mary Margaret.
"Well, we'd better be going now," said Ruby. "Say! Mary Margaret, do you want us to bring you back some ice cream?"
"Yes, ice cream can be a great comfort when you're behind bars," said Mr. Gold.
"It also gives you gas," said David.
"Huh?" said Emma.
"When Mr. Gold was arrested last Valentine's Day, I was passing by, and I thought it was someone playing the cello at first, but then I realized …" began David.
"Um, no thanks," said Mary Margaret.
"Well, see you later, then," said Ruby.
"May the Force be with you," said David.
"I need an extra-large bowl of ice-cream … and a Nicholas Sparks novel," muttered Regina as she dragged Henry out of the station.
Fin