Note: I love Gremma plot and I would love Graham to be back from the dead, him and Emma to eventually be together and it to be True Love. But, as long as that's not happening… at least yet… and I still want a happy ending for him, so I attempted at this…
But it's not Gremma fic. No Emma here. Not her. An OC.
Pre-summary
Huntsman wakes up in the woods with his wolf by his side and no memories of Storybrooke. It's like if the night before, when he barely managed to fall asleep after another never-ceasing excruciation in Regina's hands only to be back tortured in his nightmares - it made no much difference - then he's up under the shade of grand trees, under open blue sky, on the ground cold and moist, but it's all home. It's his home. And he's free.
It, though, takes him time to believe that's not a delusion… the sweetest delusion made up by Regina as a new pervert torment for him… But it feels so real. And with hour after hour, day after another he finally dares to acknowledge it doesn't only feel that way. It is so.
And it's all right… 'Till a stranger tumbles down to his feet…
He witnessed desperation clawed hold of her. But no matter how it tried, no matter what she said, strengths and her stubborn amusing prudence were anchored fast inside.
"That's life. About survival. And sacrificing one life for another," who but not he knows exactly, so he means every word.
"Nice philosophy," she sneers. "And, yeah, I've listened to the course of biology: food chain and blah-blah-blah."
His eyes are wide in incomprehension and at her shrewishness like if he faces that for the first time. But no, it's the second day he was roving the woods in that odd company of hers. Why in the world, whose tricky joke was that, that out of the blue he was bumped by such a weird human being? And he couldn't just leave her there… he couldn't… because, surprisingly, he saw so much alike him in her.
"Wolf's your brother, a sacred creature for you, right?' she is determined to gain her point and make him understand. "So why a rabbit can't be my brother? A hart can't be my brother? A squirrel…"
"You can't make the whole wood your brotherhood!" he cuts her off, irritation and laugh in his voice, but he still tries to put it as calm as possible.
"Why not?" she resents.
"Because then you will be starved to death," he reminds her with more concern behind his words, "And that will be one long tortuous death."
She pouts and muses, and for a second he hopes she finally heard him, but then she speaks again, or rather grumbles, "Then let it be. And let little animals breed and live long and happy."
"Try it. Please. It's like chicken. You don't mind chicken, right?" he hands her a fresh-fried, fresh-killed piece of what an hour ago used to be a full of life wildfowl unwittingly strolling about the clearing.
He as if reads her mind, "I checked, it's too young to have its own family, so nobody's going to miss it, but it's full-grown to serve as a fine dish."
Is he mocking her? She could give back a wicked smile, but the third day of hunger swept away her termagancy. Better say, literally starved it. He, nevertheless, keeps questioning himself, why she makes tending for her so challenging. And why does he endeavour and care in the first place? But he does.
"It reconciled itself to its fate. It died so you may live. Take its sacrifice as an honour. Don't let it be in vain."
No, some grains of mischief still remained as she smirks while closing her eyes. "A perfect elogy on a fowl," she says.
Bracing up, she can't see him gleefully smiling back. Barbed remarks or naive and amusing statements of hers, that's what it did to him. Made him smile. Ingenuously. And the warmth filled his heart and spread… Oh, his heart…
Hesitant, she, though, takes it and stares at the piece of meat, comprehending his words or apologizing to a fowl, well, he doesn't know but he keeps silent. No more blandishment and pushing.
Shaky she bites it, tastes it slowly, then once more… God, she eats it and he exhales in relief. Still not looking up at him, but before she finishes he offers her another piece.
"All for now. Better drink after. Too much food on a famished stomach won't make good either. We'll leave the rest for the night." He puts out a fire and begins to pack so they could continue their march. In the same direction of uncertainty.
No, he knew the woods well. There's nothing he knew better, nothing he needed else, it was his home… but not hers… And so, frankly speaking, he had no idea where they were aiming to and how he could actually help her, unless no to let her die here.
He catches a glimpse of her before she raises up and heads away. And that expression of hers insults him, wiping off the cheer from his little victory… their little victory over her naughty character.
He follows her concerned but the same time is afraid to interfere, when she hides behind a thick old tree. Leaning against it, she can't stop tears from falling silently and only gestures him with a hand 'leave me alone', as he finds her.
She turns away from him. How damn tired she is. She wants normal food, and chocolate, and alcohol to forget all that hell, but before - it's shower, or better hot bath, and finally so cosy bed… But she's not getting it… ever... For what sins she was sent here? What is this place? What is that damn Enchanted Forest? Is it purgatory?
The last is the best explanation. And what is she supposed to do then… to move on… away from here? Or she stuck… they stuck…
She turns her head to see him still standing near the tree and squinting at her with worry in his eyes. Well, maybe not everything in this situation is so unpleasant and desperate.
"So what… and you're gonna kill off all fowls around just for me… to just feed me?" she corrects, a playful tone is in her voice again.
This time she beholds his beautiful smile, him faltering and trying to figure out how to answer her in the same spirit. But there is no need for that. She knows he'll take care of her no matter what…