Just Remember Who I Am,
Written by WickedSong.
Disclaimer : I do not own OUAT. If I did Graham would've been mentioned at least once in 23 episodes and I'd already be drawing up the plans for his return. Which brings me to this story. This was a plot bunny that hit me at one in the morning while I was talking to my dear friend on Skype. I ruined her life with it, apparently, and then ruined someone else's as well so maybe it'll ruin yours too? ;) Okay, so here is Part I of III. This is the longest by a clear margin just because of where I felt the breaks were appropriate.
He jolts awake, blinks rapidly and takes a deep breath, like it's the first one he's taken for so long. His chest hurts, as if there's a physical ache inside of him, one which has just been repaired. His breathing is laboured and shallow and he's lying down somewhere. He can hear a man victoriously saying that 'it worked' while a woman thanks him and talks about some sort of deal.
He cannot think about what they mean. What happened to him?
The man, the one who spoke before he assumes, walks over to him. "And how's our patient?"
It is an unfamiliar voice.
He goes to speak but finds that he can't.
"That's fine," assures the man to the woman. "It may take a few days for his basic functions to kick in completely but this reanimation appears to have been a success." He turns to the woman. "We could do more you know? I have a brother-"
The conversation is lost as he falls into unconsciousness – but an easy one, much like sleeping, and not at all like death – to the sound of the woman rejecting whatever the other man proposed and then turning to wish him rest.
"Sleep, Huntsman, sleep."
"How is he?"
Lurking behind the building that the Doctor is carrying out his 'science' in, Hook appears from the shadows to Cora, who smiles.
"Resting, but alive once more," she informs of him. "I must say," she comments, "it was an inspired idea Hook."
The pirate captain shrugs but still grins wickedly. "It was a hunch."
"Nevertheless," she praises as she keeps a quick lookout on the streets of the town, "he will prove to be a useful pawn against the Saviour. And I will finally have her heart."
Hook smirks, seeing a break in the self-assured armour that Cora usually wore. "You want her heart that badly? Why does the prospect of losing burn you so?"
She turns to him. "After all this time it's like you don't know me at all, Hook." She makes a tutting noise towards him, and goes to walk back into the building. "Won't you rest? The protection spells I put up will cloak us from anyone for quite some time."
Hook had looked to be contemplating something but is brought out of his reverie by Cora's voice. He smiles to her. "Of course. A question however." She nods. "I was just wondering how long it will take for him to be…capable of his task. So much time has been lost already. I've yet to dispose of the crocodile."
Cora smiles back at him, as if she knows a secret. "Only a few days, Hook. I trust you covered your tracks as you were supposed to."
He gives a look which expresses his mock annoyance that she would think anything less of him. "After all this time and it's like you don't know me at all, Cora."
She smirks at him now. Her expression is still something serene – hardly anything fazes this Queen, Hook has noticed – but also inherently evil and menacing.
"Soon," she muses, "I will have my most precious heart; that of the Saviour." Hook goes to follow her but before he can she halts him. "I do have one question for you." Like she did for him before, he nods, saying he will answer. "How did you know to revive this particular Huntsman? There are plenty in this town who would have done so for the right reward? Why is this one so special? Why go these lengths."
Hook gives his own version of a secret smile but still reveals his methods. "When I travelled with them she had nightmares of her own, calling out for someone named 'Graham', telling him to wake up." A part of him had almost empathised with her, but that had died quickly. "When we returned, I gathered all the intel I needed - including a trip she took the graveyard shortly after arriving back, before our presence was made known."
"And you are sure he will do this," Cora questions. It is rare that she would let Hook take a lead on an important mission such as this one but she was – and this again is a rarity in itself – stumped on how to take the Saviour's heart without magic and without arousing suspicion.
"You're sure you gave him the dark heart?" asks Hook, in response. When Cora nods, he assures her, "He will not hesitate."
It's perhaps the weirdest alliance that the five year old within her who read fairytales can imagine but it is very real, and now twenty-eight years old, Emma finds herself startled upon realising such a fact.
Rumplestiltskin, also known as Mr. Gold, sits at a table across from Snow White and Prince Charming, her parents, while Regina, also known as The Evil Queen, the woman who made it her own life's mission to ruin her mother's sits beside him.
The four are discussing the present threat of Cora and Captain Hook, both who arrived in Storybrooke via the last bean from atop the giant's beanstalk. Emma feels a pang of guilt run through her for that. She can't ascertain how trustworthy Hook would have been overall but if she hadn't left him up there, he wouldn't have taken the bean and, she feels as if it was more or less implied, the giant's life.
She and Henry sit in silence as the four throw battle plans onto the table. Mr. Gold seems most determined to rid the town of them and Emma suspects that perhaps he has the most to lose from their joint presence. Regina expresses her worry that the duo have been untraceable – and quiet – since their arrival in Storybrooke.
With a hopeful voice Henry comments, "Maybe they've given up!"
Emma wishes she could believe such a thing but she just smiles at him and ruffles his hair and gives a half-hearted, "Yeah kid, maybe that's it."
His suggestion has left the other four anxious and Emma is relieved when her cell rings out from her jacket pocket. Thank God, she thinks as she takes the call to find that it's Archie on the other end.
"What's up, Archie?" she asks.
"I'm not exactly sure," he replies, sounding nervous. Emma certainly doesn't like the sound of that. "I was taking Pongo out on his evening walk, we took our usual route by the graveyard but there was something off. I don't know exactly what it was but there was some sort of disturbance."
"What time was this exactly?" Emma questions, beginning to stand, as she looks at the clock which reads ten p.m. already.
"Around seven," he admits. He quickly adds, "I had patients as soon as I arrived back at the office. I'm still here. This is the least busy I've been all day. I just thought I should call it in when I could."
She can understand that feeling. The curse being broken has caused much demand for many of the town's resources and that includes the hospital, the sheriff's office and the help of Archie, as people come to terms with the lives that have been ripped from them.
"Well thanks for calling anyway Archie. I'll definitely go check it out."
He says goodbye and she hangs up.
"Archie says there's been some sort of disturbance at the graveyard. I should go check it out." Emma says quickly before picking up her keys from the table by the door. She's almost out of the apartment when Mary Margaret – Snow White, she has to keep reminding herself that that is the true name of her mother and that she is her mother in the first place – calls out to her.
"Alone? It's dark out, this could be a trap!"
"Why would Archie set up a trap?" Emma asks, bewildered.
Snow crosses her arms at her. "I'm not saying Archie would, but Hook and Cora might've."
Emma shrugs. "I'm a big girl. I can look out for myself." She regrets the choice of words as soon as she says them, as a flicker of guilt crosses the faces of both Snow and David – Charming - or Charming as Snow calls him. She has the exact same problem with remembering what name to call him – and she sighs.
"I didn't mean it like-"
"We know," Charming says with a resigned sigh. He stands. "Well, I'm your deputy. I should come with you right?"
It had been sort of an automatic thing. As soon as they had returned to Storybrooke and Charming had been woken up, he had handed the sheriff's office back over to his daughter. He would still help out around the office, however, whether because he liked the job or wanted to get to know her she wasn't sure, and so he had just become her deputy by default.
"I can handle-"
"Just in case," Charming cuts in sharply. He is pleading with her and she can't find it in herself to refuse.
"Fine," she agrees. She walks over to Henry and kisses him on the forehead. "Be good for Mary Mar – I mean, Snow."
Henry nods. "I will mom."
It's still weird to hear him call her that.
Mr. Gold and Regina also take this as their cue to leave, and after an uncomfortable-looking Regina gives Henry her own hug, they do so.
Emma still isn't sure where she stands with the former mayor. She can see that she is willing to change but she still can't suddenly get over all the evil that she has done in the name of vengeance – the people she has hurt. She can't forget the lives she has ruined - including her own.
"You ready?" Charming asks and Emma nods.
"Be careful," Snow warns.
"We will, mo-Snow."
There's a moment of silence where Snow and Charming both realise what Emma was about to say. Snow only gives a small smile in appreciation while Charming looks encouraged. Emma, on the other hand, wants to tell herself off for the small show of vulnerability. It had been a reflex response, that was all.
She keeps telling herself that in the awkward silence that presents itself as she and Charming descend the stairs.
His name is The Huntsman. Or at least that's what this woman – Cora – is telling him. She explains it all to him.
He remembers most of his life before his death – being abandoned in the woods as an infant, being found by the pack of wolves who eventually became his family, and losing the majority of that family in the years that followed due to harsh winters and various attacks by other hunters. In the end it was just he and his wolf brother left and they wandered, quite content, for many years.
Until…
Well, that is the problem. That is where everything goes fuzzy. He is sure that there is something there but he cannot remember it for the life of him.
When he asks Cora if she knows how he met his end she only looks upset to have to tell him.
"Snow White," she informs him. "You were sent to kill her and she eluded you. You were murdered because of that."
He is so enraged at Snow White that he does not, and this is to Cora's pleasure, ask who exactly murdered him. It is the part of the plan that will hold everything together, that will intensify the darkness already present in the enchanted heart, that she specially created for this purpose and that will ensure that no humanity stops him from carving out a human heart this time.
"And this Snow White," asks The Huntsman, and Cora is delighted to hear the venom dripping off her name already. "I assume she still lives."
Cora nods. "Quite happily," she muses. Her tone is always cool and collected, ready to combat any question thrown at her. It is the only way to twist things to the way she wants. "She has her husband, her daughter, a grandson."
The Huntsman clenches his fist.
Cora smiles. "The Doctor will be in to see to your therapy now," she informs him. "And do not worry about Snow White, Huntsman, I may have a way for you to have your revenge, sooner rather than later."
She emerges from the room to find the Doctor standing outside.
"How is he?"
"Angry," Cora says, the happiness radiating from her tone. "Just as I wanted."
Frankenstein grimaces at her. "Are you sure that that is wise?" He looks unsure. "Waking the dead…it rarely has good consequences, Cora. When I revived your daughter's stable boy, he was out of control, haywire. He ripped my arm clean off without any second thought. It was as if he was an animal."
Cora holds both her arms out. "You can see that mine are both still intact and I just had a conversation with him. He is perfectly in control."
"But his heart-"
"And that is why," she tells him. "My magic tamed the unpredictable nature of your science." She sneers. "You owe me gratitude, Frankenstein. I proved just how successful your procedures can be…with the right amount of magic, of course."
Frankenstein nods but it is reluctant. Cora has heard stories about him, about how he didn't believe that magic had any more merit than science. He doesn't speak, only gestures that he should be getting to the Huntsman.
Cora lets him go, carefully watching him, hoping that he does not become a problem.
Emma slams the door of her bug shut as she surveys the scene at the graveyard. She throws one of the flashlights over to Charming, who catches it expertly.
"You take the left, I'll take the right. If you see anything, shout," she says.
He nods, though he looks hesitant to let her go on alone, and the two go in their separate directions.
Emma sighs as she trudges through the grass and the mud and checks that all the graves are still intact. From what she observes they are but she has no real way of being sure. She wonders if perhaps Archie thought he saw something, but then she wonders if too much time has passed and whoever was here covered their tracks.
She dismisses the thought. As she shines the light further and further more of the graveyard becomes illuminated. Finally she sighs. "There's nothing-" She goes to shout to Charming but is cut off when she realises which grave she is shining her light on.
All the other names in this yard are unfamiliar to her. They are people who died before she came to town, perhaps even those who died before the curse took effect. No one died under the curse, except...
From the side of her eye she notices Charming' jogging towards her and this somewhat snaps her out of her trance, staring intently at the slab of concrete in front of her, as she realises that her words trailed off which would have worried him.
He pants as he stands beside her. "You were…and then you were…I thought…"
"Sorry," replies Emma sheepishly.
He gives her a look that says it's alright. When he has his breath back he asks her why she had been shouting and she replies that she hadn't found anything.
It's then Charming notices that her flashlight still lights up the name on the stone in front of them.
"Why-"
"It's nothing," she cuts him off mid-sentence, sounding impatient. "Can we just get back to the apartment?"
"If there's something you-"
Again she is impatient with her - and this thought is still so bizarre that she can hardly comprehend the title - father, that she shakes her head and quietly says. "I don't need to talk about it."
There's a barrier that the two of them can't cross here. He is her father, he is meant to protect and to comfort her, and yet he can't as he hardly knows her. And for so long, she has been so used to protecting and comforting herself with her walls that she can't find a way to tear them down in front of him, at least not yet.
With Snow, the transition has been that bit easier because the woman is still, in part, the best friend she had grown to know in her past year. Charming is still, in part, David Nolan, the man she felt compelled to hate on her best friend's behalf.
Charming looks as if he isn't going to push the matter any further. "If you ever need to talk about it, you know that I'm here and so is your mo-Snow."
She's grateful that he doesn't push the importance of the names 'mom' and 'dad' on her so soon.
"You go ahead to the car, I'll just double check the scene quickly myself."
She knows he knows that that's not what she's going to be doing, but he just nods, as if he understands that she needs this moment to be alone.
"Remember, shout if you need me, I'll-"
"-always find me," finishes Emma. She gives a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "I guess that's what you do best, huh?"
He laughs and shrugs his shoulder. "Snow as well."
They say no more to each other as he walks towards the car, letting the light from the flashlight guide him.
Emma shines her own back on the concrete in front of her.
It was very understated, not at all showy, just a small slab of concrete to prove that he was real, that he walked this earth and that he even existed at all.
Graham Humbert.
Beloved friend and town sheriff.
His inscription is simple as well. Emma reflects that he probably would have liked it that way. She sighs, as some guilt wells up inside of her. She's only visited this place twice; hours after he had been laid to rest, and more recently when she and Snow had returned from the Enchanted Forest.
On the first occasion, she had stood in front of the grave, and let herself shed the tears she had refused to during the service earlier on. But then she had noticed, at the corner of her eye, the wolf they had followed the night that he died. She was sure it was that wolf anyway, with one red eye and the other black. It was just staring at her, as if she had the answers. She didn't then and she had become terrified of returning, scared she would find that same wolf watching her, almost judging her.
The second time she did have the answers and she was even more scared to visit, in case the wolf looked at her with that same expression. But the animal hadn't been there. That was a relief and as she stood there, not even aware of what his story was, or what he had remembered that night, she still felt guilt. She was supposed to be the 'Saviour' and she still couldn't save him.
There's a honk of the car horn and Emma is startled out of her reflection. While she says nothing, she smiles, a promise that she will try to visit more often.
It's later that night that Emma finds herself reading the book. She hasn't done so since the curse was broken but now, as she remembers Graham, she feels that it's more important than ever that she reads his story.
Everyone else in the apartment is sleeping, Snow and Charming upstairs and Henry in her old bed. Emma now occupies the couch.
It's now, as she flicks through pages and pages of stories, stories involving her mother, her father, The Evil Queen, Cinderella, Red Riding Hood, Pinocchio, Jiminy Cricket, heck, everyone she's ever met in this town is in this book; she remembers that she hasn't asked Henry who Graham was. She had meant to when they had arrived back to the apartment but he had been sound asleep and she hadn't wanted to wake him.
She decides to close the book and look again in the morning when she knows, but then she hears a noise from upstairs. She stands, ready for anything, and is relieved when it's Snow.
She looks sleepy but she notices Emma's presence. "Oh, did I scare you?"
Emma shakes her head. "Of course not." But the relief is still present all over her face.
"I just needed something to drink," Snow tells her, smiling as she walks over to tap in the kitchen. "Do you want anything?" she asks quietly as she pours herself a glass of water.
Emma, book still in hand, shakes her head and walks over to one of the stools at the kitchen island.
"Why are you reading that?"
"Just…catching up, I guess," Emma lies.
Snow seems to be able to tell. "Are you sure that's all it is?"
"Yeah, why?"
Snow leans on the counter. "I was talking to Charming," she begins carefully, "and he says that you seemed quite shaken up in the graveyard earlier on. Is it because of-"
"Because of who?" interrupts Emma in a defensive tone, as if Snow will drop it.
She thinks that she should really know her better than that by now.
Snow gives a sad smile. "It's alright to still miss those who are gone, even years and years later." Hesitantly she goes to place her hands over her daughter's own and is happy when she realises she isn't pulling back from the comforting gesture. "Heaven knows how many times I still think of your grandfather."
Snow squeezes her hands and Emma feels as if it should be her offering the comfort here. But her mother wouldn't let her. "All you need to know," Snow continues, "is that The Huntsman was a hero and a good man in his own right."
Emma perks up at this. "He was The Huntsman?"
Suddenly it makes sense to her. But she has to read the story to make sure.
"You didn't-"
But Snow is cut off by the flapping of pages in front of her as her daughter scours the book hungrily until she finally stops at a page with an illustration of Graham – no, he's The Huntsman in this story, she realises.
Snow watches as she reads and continues to watch as Emma's face falls.
"That means it's true," she says quietly to herself as she darts her eyes to Henry, who is still sleeping soundly. "Oh my God, it's true."
"Emma, Emma, what's true?"
Snow is concerned at the sadness in Emma's eyes when the blonde lifts her head.
"I should have realised it before," she says to herself as if she's finally figured something important out. She looks up to Snow desperately. "It's true, isn't it? About Regina and his…heart," she struggles with that part. "She had it all along, didn't she?"
It's as if Snow realises what she's saying now also. "Oh Emma, oh, Emma…"
For a moment it's like they're not Snow White and her daughter, and instead they're roommates and best friends, Mary Margaret Blanchard and Emma Swan. For a moment it's like Snow is instantly transported back to the night that Graham died in Emma's arms and all the nights following. Those were the nights when Emma would try and hold it all together, but somehow all the emotions would come flooding back to her. She'd sometimes cry and Mary Margaret would hold her and assure her that it was all going to be okay.
And most of all, on those nights, Mary Margaret would feel terrible.
Because hadn't she been the one that said that opening up could be the best thing Emma could do? That the walls that kept out pain also kept out love. That if she just let them fall she would have the love; and instead she got the worst pain, the worst burn from trying.
Emma isn't crying like those nights right now but she's quiet and stoic, and Snow, in a caring gesture takes her daughter's hand and leads her to the couch. Emma doesn't shrug it off like Snow expects, and just sits there numbly processing the information. Eventually, and she doesn't know how, she drifts off into sleep, Snow holding her hand. The gesture doesn't hold off the nightmares.
"Graham, Graham, c'mon wake up, Graham!"
He never did.
So you're enjoying it so far? If 'yes', fantastic, Part II is right there for you to read. You could leave a review now or do so later, I really don't mind. Wait...you're not enjoying it? I'm sorry, very sorry.
I am still working on When I Find You, I'll Find Me, this idea was just one of those that grabbed me and wouldn't let go until I did it. And I may also be working on a second part of 'To The Lonely Heart' but that's as much as I'll say on that one.
Anyway, either continue or review and then continue if you love it, if you hate it, well, thanks anyway for trying and hope to see you on the next chapter!
WickedSong x
