Bring Me Back
Chapter 1
Cursed!Buffy ala Once Upon A Time
I wrote this about a year ago and stagnated on where to take it next, some constructive criticism would go a long way.
I do not own Buffy: The Vampire Slayer or Once Upon a Time or any recognizable characters. This fanfiction is purely for fun.
When Buffy "wakes" up, it's 8:15 in the morning. She was opening her store for the day when the blast of magic hit her and all sense of self returned. The air is knocked from her lungs, she leans heavily on the glass case that holds her cash register and pamphlets, her jar of pens. She remembers everything of her lives, both of them, but not why she's there.
She steps outside her shop and looks over the main street of town. Her fellow townies are doing the same, looking around them in awe or realization or confusion. She notices Marco first, his foot poised to ascend his ladder to fix his forever broken sign. He's staring at it with a look Buffy can't decipher. Surely he knows now what she knows staring at the sign, that he's been stuck repairing it every single morning for 28 years. She wonders how he stops himself from going up there and ripping that damn thing down.
"Marco," she says barely over a whisper.
He turns away from the sign and the blank expression on his face clears as he looks at her. They've been friends for a long time in their cursed lives, ever since her mother passed away suddenly and left her a failing art gallery.
"Elizabeth," he replies, in almost the same tone. "We were cursed."
"Why?" She asks, because she still quite can't recall what led her to being cursed in a small town in Maine for 28 years. Given what she usually dealt with, she had to admit that this curse was pretty tame.
"The Evil Queen," Marco explains, and Buffy can hear the capital letters on that name. "She cursed our land and our people to this place to take away everyone's happy endings."
Buffy frowns at Marco, realization coming to her that Marco knows a lot more than she expected and that his information is rather specific. She's about to call him out on it when they both hear a commotion from down the street. What few people were out on the streets are now shouting and running in terror and Buffy sees a large purple cloud converging on them and town. But it's too fast and everyone is soon overtaken, she can feel Marco push her back towards the store front in a hopeless attempt to save her and himself from the cloud, but she feels it fill her lungs soon enough.
And then suddenly, she feels strong once again.
When the smoke clears, Marco breathes a sigh of relief and Buffy feels him ease himself away from her.
Buffy looks down the street and sees that her fellow townies seem to be alright. "What was that?"
"Another curse, perhaps? " He answers, stepping away from her and heading into the street as if on a mission.
"Marco," Buffy hisses, following him. She's feeling confused at the whole situation; being cursed to live a mundane and weak life in small-town Maine, waves of magic knocking the breath from her lungs, and giant purple curse clouds that seem to have given her back her Slayer powers, so she's determined not to lose Marco who seems to know what's going on.
"Gepetto," he corrects immediately, not turning back around and continuing down the street.
"Gesundheit."
Her snark seems to have done it. He stops and turns back around and gives her one of his indulgent, grandfatherly smiles. "No, my dear, Gepetto is my real name from our land. What is yours?"
"Buffy. Is me."
Marco- Gepetto smiled and placed his hand on her shoulder and Buffy felt him squeeze slightly, "Nice to meet you, Buffy. Now, I must find my son."
She recalled many conversations between herself and Marco; how he wished for a child, how he and his wife tried and tried so many times but were never lucky enough. After her mother died Elizabeth was lost in how to manage her mother's business, she was alone and Marco took her under his wing. They became a sort of family. Marco would look in on her from time to time, and Elizabeth would often seek his advice or help. Elizabeth often found herself on the receiving end of the love Marco couldn't give to his own child.
Buffy has to bite her lip from saying, 'But you don't have a son,' and instead nods. "Okay, where is he? Who is he?"
Marco sighs and throws his arms up in defeat, but Buffy knows it's not because of her and her questions exactly. It's because Marco is looking up and down the street like he doesn't even know where to begin. "I do not know where he is, I don't even remember seeing him at all anywhere in town…" He trails off.
"It's okay," she tries to reassure him. "We'll find him."
Marco nods and tries to give her another smile, but he can't seem to bring himself to. He's worried about something, Buffy can see it. She's always been pretty observant and knowing Marco for so long makes her better at reading him. He's looking out at the street again, toward the library and the clock tower where a group of people have converged. Buffy can make out Granny and Ruby; Inn and Diner owners, the dark-haired soft-spoken Mary Margaret, the former coma patient David Nolan, Leroy the town drunk, the man who owns the pharmacy, and a few others. She can see Henry Mills, the mayor's son and Emma Swan the new sheriff and Henry's biological mom. It's a fairly small town and word and gossip travel fast in some circles. Buffy can see Marco's gaze stick on Emma and Mary Margaret, who's hugging the blonde like she's a long lost friend.
"His name," Marco breathes, "is Pinocchio. My son."
Buffy is pretty sure her jaw is hanging open.
Elizabeth is feeling apprehensive. The town recluse, the wealthy bachelor living up on the hill, Jefferson March, called her gallery and has asked if she could bring some of her best pieces up to his home for him to peruse and purchase. She was so shocked by his call that she couldn't even ask him what his style or color preferences were, so she's understandably worried whether the pieces she picked from her mother's stock will please him. Also: town recluse. She's heard things.
She pulls her car up to his drive way and begins unloading her trunk. The few pieces she brought are her favorites, but she also brought a binder containing descriptions and photos of her other stock. She's also wearing her best professional work outfit: a gray tweed dress and matching jacket. It makes her feel more grown up than her 24 years even if it may look a little drab; she's certainly not trying to attract a boyfriend right now anyway.
She walks up the steps and rings the doorbell, expecting the impressive gong or melody one would have if they owned a mansion. It's a normal sounding bell and Elizabeth is a tad disappointed.
Mr. March opens the door with a flourish and Elizabeth is suddenly less disappointed. Jefferson March is a handsome man, impeccably dressed, and greets her and invites her into his home like a gentleman. She also might have blushed a little when he offered her a seat and even pulled it out for her.
She gets right to business and begins to unpack the pieces of art from her large briefcase. She begins by showing him two landscapes inspired by Turner and two other pieces that fall into the post-impressionist realm. He's been gazing at her though and not really glancing at the artwork. So, Elizabeth thinks she's picked some bad pieces and glances at his existing décor. She's not the least bit sorry to call it a horrifying mish-mash that reminds her of a bad drug trip, or if she's being kind, a trip through the looking glass into a demented version of Wonderland. Either way, it's hideous and she hopes Mr. March will like something in the binder. She's about to pull the binder out and show him some modern art, which seems to be more his taste when he says her name. Or a name.
"Buffy."
"Elizabeth," she corrects gently, not wanting to offend her customer.
"No, it's not." He insists.
Elizabeth doesn't know what to say, she expected Mr. March to be a little eccentric of course, he wouldn't be called the town recluse for nothing. But she can't imagine that he's mistaken her for someone else, especially since she introduced herself to him at the door. He's jumped up from his chair and is running his fingers through his hair in frustration now and Elizabeth surreptitiously looks for the front door.
"This life is a curse; this existence of yours isn't real! Your name is Buffy Summers and this isn't you!" He's ranting, his voice getting louder and Elizabeth is growing more scared by the minute.
She's edged out of her chair and decided that as long as she has her keys, she can call the sheriff to pick up her belongings for her. Right now her only concern is the front door and how she's going to get there. "Mr. March, I'll just leave my binder here for you to look over at your leisure. I'm sure you're quite busy, and I should go-"
"This isn't you! This isn't how you act! I thought you of all people would see!" He's advanced on her now, so close to her face that she can see his eyes are red and blood-shot, whether from a lack of sleep or drugs, she can't tell. "Buffy, tell me when we first met. Don't you remember? I came through the doorway with my hat and you—you were in the cemetery hunting vampires. You told me I was in the way. You said 'my tragic choice of a coat was getting in your way.'"
She has no idea what he's talking about and wonders what could have happened to set him off like this. She's almost out of the room and the front door is only a few feet away.
He seems to have noticed her cowering away from him to get to the door, but it doesn't deter him in the least. "The Buffy I know would never be intimidated like this. You should be shouting back at me, threatening to kick me in the balls, anything but shrinking in fear! This isn't you, Buffy! You're not Elizabeth Curran!"
As soon as her hand hits the door knob, she jerks the door open and flees to her car. Her hand is shaking as she pushes the keys into the ignition and her heart doesn't stop pounding in her chest until she sees the sheriff's station. Her vision is spotty and she can hear the blood rushing in her ears, so she barely registers Sheriff Humbert pulling her gently into a chair and draping a blanket over her shoulders. Among her paintings and binder, she also left her jacket.
She must have been able to tell the sheriff what happened, because suddenly he's gone and Marco is here. A cup of burnt coffee is put into her hands and Elizabeth takes a sip so as not to be rude, her heart also stops pounding so hard against her ribs. Soon, Sheriff Humbert is back with her paintings, binder and jacket. He's giving her a reassuring smile, saying Mr. March won't be bothering her, and Marco takes her home.
Elizabeth is exhausted when she gets home. It's only just after dinner time, but she doesn't feel hungry and instead just changes into her pajamas and crawls into her bed. Her mind is a whirl of emotions and thoughts. She thinks of the reasons why Jefferson March had his episode, because she really can't think of what else to call it. A psychotic break maybe? But mostly what her traitorous mind thinks of as she lays in bed, is that she wishes what Mr. March had said to her was real. She wishes that she was special. She wishes that she was strong.
Buffy wants to say, "You've got to be kidding me," but she knows enough to not be rude when Marco looks so distressed. Gepetto and Pinocchio. And the Evil Queen who cursed a whole town. She really wants to laugh at the absurdity because what else can she do? The thing is, Buffy believes in magic, she's seen it first-hand. And also, she woke up from a curse not 15 minutes ago, so there's that too. But, she just can't quite wrap her head around that her friend thinks he's the man who carved a wooden puppet who was turned into a real boy by a blue fairy.
But she can't help herself. "Please don't tell me Jiminy Cricket is real too and living here."
"Archie." Marco breathes and his eyes are locked further down the road where they both see Dr. Hopper running towards the group, shouting and pointing even further down where a large mob is headed in the direction of the Mayor's house. "My good friend Archie is also Jiminy."
"Archie?" Buffy sputters. "Dr. Archie Hopper, the town shrink? Goofy Archie who tells the same lame joke again and again over dinner and who somehow manages to get tangled by Pongo's leash once a week? He's Jiminy cricket?"
And when she thinks about it, perhaps it makes a little sense. Marco is a repair man whose hobby happens to be working in his wood shop on weekends, and Gepetto is a wood carver in the fairytale. Dr. Hopper is the town psychiatrist and Jiminy was Pinocchio's conscience. She snorts a little when she thinks of his last name and how fitting it is.
"Marco, please don't tell me next that Snow White and Sleeping Beauty are coma patients at the hospital." She quips, half serious and half-jokingly.
He turns a shrewd eye on her and Buffy hates that she's feeling so out of her depth here. "What did you do in the Enchanted Forest, Elizabeth? Were you a shop keeper there too, or an artisan maybe?"
"Enchanted Forest?" The words tumble out of her mouth without much thought.
He nods then, seeming to have gotten his answer. "You are not from my land, then. Where are you from? Why would the Evil Queen's curse take people from other realms?" The last question posed mostly to himself.
Buffy shrugs and looks around her, "I'm from a world similar to this one, I guess. But mine has vampires and demons and I was on a Hellmouth…" she trails off then. She remembers what she was doing before she was suddenly someone else in Storybrooke.
She was on the Cleveland Hellmouth, helping to clear a few nests with Faith when the purple smoke had come up from nowhere. It engulfed her, filling up her lungs, muddying her mind, and then she was Elizabeth Curran, reluctant art gallery owner after her mother passed away. Shy and desperate to go to college but was blind-sided by bills from her mother's untimely passing. But two faces stuck out from her memories and the connection was made.
Jefferson. And the lizard-man, Rumplestiltskin.
"Elizabeth?" Marco is staring at her like he's been trying to get her attention. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," she breathes in and out. "I know why I'm here. Why your Queen's curse brought me over." She glances at the hill overlooking town where she knows Jefferson's house is and when she looks back at Marco, she can see the sign for Mr. Gold's pawn shop behind him. But Marco is important to her, and her business with Jefferson and Rumplestiltskin can wait. "But, first, we should look for your son."
They spend the entire morning and early afternoon scouring the town for any sign of Pinocchio. By three o'clock Marco looks exhausted and Buffy offers to pick up the search with him tomorrow. There are still tons of places to look, and not to mention the woods surrounding their town, so Buffy tries to remain optimistic.
During their search they learn that Mayor Mills was arrested and being held in the Sheriff's station. Buffy has seen the faces of her fellow townies and thinks that Sheriff Swan better have a good protection detail for the Mayor in mind because now that everyone is awake from the curse, it's just a matter of time before someone snaps.
She heads home with nothing better to do after she bids goodbye to Marco. She knows she's the only one from her world here and there will be no teary and happy reunion for her, not like the ones she's been witness to all day. She tries not to think about the fact that she's been cursed for 28 years, but it's hard. She wonders what is left behind for her if she ever makes it home. Dawn will be almost 50 by now, Willow and Xander nearing 55, and she shudders when she thinks that Giles may not even be there at all. And that leads to other questions about the curse, if it's broken, why isn't she there? Why are she and everyone else still here in Storybrooke?
Once home, she rummages through her pantry and fridge and comes up with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She doesn't have the energy tonight to cook and Elizabeth was never one for cooking unless Marco and Archie joined her. She's having trouble reconciling her cursed self with her real self and she leans against her counter and mindlessly chews her sandwich.
Elizabeth was… Buffy. Only a Buffy who was shy and had trouble socializing with her own age group, who worked hard and dreamed of more but couldn't bear to take the first steps towards her dreams because they would take her out of her comfort zone. A Buffy who admired Sheriff Humbert, but would never ask him out, and who thought Ruby Lucas's skirts were indecent but desperately wanted to look as beautiful as her.
Her brain is working overdrive, trying to sort her thoughts and feelings of two lives and she just can't take it anymore. She stalks over to her kitchen table and knocks over one of the chairs, breaking the leg off with a crack. She's been cursed, weak, and the slayer has been suppressed for 28 years. At the very least, she needs to be out in the darkness. She hopes that somehow a creature or two has made the trip over as well and she can stop the thrumming in her body with a long overdue hunt.
She spends an hour or two in the woods, just running and letting her other sense free. She breathes a little easier out here. In a way, she feels even more torn than the other people caught in the curse. They only have two selves to worry about. Her on the other hand, she has two selves and one of them already had a separate entity sharing the mind space. The Slayer part of her is feeling well and truly vicious at the thought of her forced imprisonment.
The sun is beginning to dip for the night, and on her walk back into town Buffy picks up branches to whittle along with the chair leg and a knife she took from her kitchen. It's a mindless task that allows her to think and breathe before she goes back to her sad little house for the night. She's just stepped out of the woods and onto the main road and she feels a chill go down her spine. She stops and just lets the feeling rush over her, her heart rate picks up and a small grin fights its way on to her face.
It's a little macabre to be excited for a dangerous creature, or whatever it is that set her senses on fire, but it's Buffy's first night back as the Slayer and she's just so happy to be able to feel it. Lucky for her, she finished one stake with her knife and she discards the beginnings of her second stake on the road as she runs towards whatever is calling her. It's in the direction of town and she tries to pick up her pace, noticing that 28 years of not slaying has really put a dent in her stamina.
There's an inhuman roar in the distance and Buffy follows the sound as far as she can before she loses it. But it doesn't matter that she doesn't hear the creature though, its left destruction in its wake and she can just as easily follow that. Cars are overturned as if a hurricane has blown through, windows are shattered and electrical boxes are sparking along the street. Buffy rounds a corner and sees the Sheriff's station ahead just in time to see the creature blast through the window, flames licking its body.
Buffy stops dead in her tracks, eyes on the creature. She's seen this before, she's sure of it. She just didn't think she'd ever see it as anything but a picture in one of Giles's demonology books.
"Shit," she gives her hastily whittled stake a disdainful look, "I'm going to need something bigger."
Four figures come out of the Sheriff's station and Buffy recognizes the mayor, Emma Swan, Mary-Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan. As far as she can tell, they're headed in the direction of the mayor's office and Buffy turns away and heads to the sporting goods store in the opposite direction. At least, she thinks, that it makes sense for the mayor and the sheriff to be involved. Someone probably set the creature on the mayor.
Buffy makes it to the store just as the shop keeper is turning his sign to 'closed'. "Let me in!" She shouts and with just a little bit of slayer strength, forces her way inside.
"Hey! What the hell, lady?!"
Buffy ignores him and starts for the hunting section, muttering under her breath, "Wraith wraith wraith… fast… hates fire… can't kill it, already dead…"
"I'm calling the sheriff!" She hears the shop keeper again in the background.
Buffy scoffs as she grabs a composite crossbow and bolts, "Yeah, good luck with that. I'd say she's busy keeping the mayor alive."
She heads into the camping section next and finds a small firestarter, lighter fluid and rounds out her loot with a box of rags.
The shop keeper is by the door, phone to his ear, furious and obviously listening to the line at the station ring. Buffy pulls a credit card from her wallet and hands it to him. "I'll be in tomorrow to sign the slip." And then she's out and starts jogging to the mayor's office to help with the wraith.
She makes it to the mayor's office just as David and Mary-Margaret make it there with brooms slung over their shoulders. Mary-Margaret notices her first.
"You shouldn't be out, there's a-"
"Wraith. I know." Buffy cuts her off. Better to just get right to the point.
David narrows his eyes at her and takes in her appearance. Buffy has her new crossbow slung over her back and she's carrying the firestarter, lighter fluid and box of rags in her arms, her stake is holstered in her waistband. "Thanks, miss, but we have it covered."
"What exactly are you going to do with those? Sweep it to death?"
"No, torches-"
"Do you think you can kill it? All you're going to do is make it angry." She argues.
David breathes in through his nose for patience or whatever, but Buffy really doesn't care.
"We don't have time for this," Mary-Margaret implores. "We need to get inside before it comes back." Her hand is on his arm.
His shoulders relax, but only slightly, and he begrudgingly looks at Buffy, "Alright, come on."
They walk swiftly into the court room where Sheriff Swan and the mayor are.
"Who's she?" Swan asks.
David shrugs next to her and Buffy ignores them both in favor of setting up her crossbow and bag of rags.
"Miss Curran," the mayor's voice drawls.
"I go by Buffy Summers now, Madam Mayor. But I suppose you know that," Buffy responds snidely, not stopping in her movements of tying rags to the end of her crossbow bolts. Once she's finished that, she takes the lighter fluid and sprays the rags, soaking them. David and Mary-Margaret have already lit their broom-come-torches, and created a wall of fire on the railing in the court room.
"Nifty," she compliments David once he's finished the railing.
He's not looking at her so suspiciously now, though the fiery arsenal at her disposal might have something to do with his changing opinion.
The plan is fairly straight-forward; Buffy, David, and Mary-Margaret will try to keep the wraith busy while Regina and Emma create the portal with Jefferson's hat in order to send the wraith away. Buffy's good with the plan, but she's still feeling under equipped and there's not much she can do about it. There's not much she wouldn't give right now for a sword or an axe, but at least the crossbow will give her some distance from the wraith.
Regina is setting up Jefferson's hat and Buffy feels an impulse to push her into the portal once it's made, but she's always been in the business of saving people, even if they didn't exactly deserved to be saved, so instead she asks, "Who set the wraith on you?"
Regina pauses and looks up, Buffy can't quite decipher her expression. There's anger there of course, who wouldn't be angry to have a wraith coming after your soul? But there might also be a tiny bit of regret and Buffy wonders for the first time today what events led to this woman cursing everyone to live in this small town.
"Rumpelstiltskin," she replies, a curl to her lip.
"Huh," Buffy's not surprised really. "Quite the resourceful little lizard man…"
She swears she sees Emma Swan smirk at that, but no one is smiling after that because the building begins to shake and a roar echoes around them. The wraith has finally come.
The large aspect of the curse the Queen cast was that it messed with your sense of time. You didn't age so you couldn't mark the passing of time, events would bleed together in your mind and you couldn't tell how long it had been from one day to the next. Memories became distant until all the townspeople could recall is that this weird sense of muddying vertigo had always been. Then, the next part of the curse was that your worst self was now the only self you could remember. Together, the people of Storybrooke were in a constant state of being hopelessly alone, or depressed, or lost and to them it had always been that way and would forever be.
For Elizabeth, it seemed to her that her mother's death had happened a long time ago, but her grief was still very much present as if she has passed suddenly the day before.
She would wake to her alarm clock in the morning and just lay in bed staring at her ceiling before convincing herself that opening her mother's art gallery was in the best interest of everyone. She would muddle through her morning routine before numbly reaching the shop door and set about opening for the day. She would take stock of the inventory, place orders for more pieces, rearrange the set up occasionally to draw interest, and sit quietly at the desk in the front waiting for customers to appear. Then, at the end of the day, she'd methodically shut off all the lights, lock the door and head home only to begin again the next day.
To Elizabeth, it felt like her breakdown occurred years after her mother's death or maybe days. She couldn't remember, and she attributed it to her inability to feel anything other than numb and disinterested in her life. Her breakdown actually happened not long after the curse was enacted. She had just turned off all of the lights and was about to lock the front door when she suddenly felt lead in her stomach. She felt unbearably nauseated at the thought of continually floating through her existence and the full weight of her grief brought her to her knees.
She slumped onto the ground, hand still clutching her keys as sobs and hiccups tore from her throat. Her life was so lonely and she imagined lying there all night, freezing in the cold and gone by morning. The last thing she expected was to feel large rough hands on her shoulders, to be pulled into someone's body, to hear a deep age-worn voice whisper and soothe.
"It's alright, child." He said. "It's alright."
Elizabeth clung to Marco and she didn't let go.
When the wraith comes crashing into the court house, Buffy has a split second to light her bolt and fire. Luckily she's not alone and begrudgingly admits that David and Mary-Margaret are pretty good to have in a fight. David swings his torch in a large arc and gives Buffy a decent opening to shoot the wraith right in his face-hole.
The wraith screeches as the fire begins to burn and it flies around the room desperately trying to extinguish the flames. Buffy leans down to light another bolt and set her crossbow when the wraith comes back for them. It shook off the flames easily this time and Buffy shoots another bolt, this one only catching it on its back.
From the corner of her eye, she sees Regina and Emma trying to activate the hat that stubbornly refuses to create a portal. They need more time and the wraith is nothing but determined now that its target is so close.
Buffy is about to reload when she feels a force knock into her hard. She grunts and the air is knocked from her lungs as her back hits the jury bench, her neck snapping back into the shattered wood. It's sharp and she can feel places where shards have pierced her skin. Someone shouted her name, but her hearing is muddled, like she's under water so she has no idea who it was. She makes it to her feet, but her crossbow is missing. The wraith is circling and Mary-Margaret and David are swinging their torches, desperate to keep it away from Regina and Emma.
Buffy turns and grabs a large piece of wood and hefts it like a baseball bat, and as the wraith circles again, she swings. It's dumb luck, honestly. She's caught the wraith in its midsection and uses enough strength to force it back and away. She drops her makeshift bat and stumbles back toward David, her crossbow near his feet.
Then, there's another shout and Buffy can see light. A magical wind picks up in the room as the portal forms and opens. She reaches her crossbow and tries to slide another bolt in but she feels dizzy and her hands shake.
"It's coming!" David shouts to Emma and Regina.
The wraith breaks through David's defense and heads toward Regina whose back is turned. Buffy watches as the wraith flies to its target, only to miss as Emma pushes Regina out of the way at the last second. Tricked, the wraith flies right into the portal and Buffy releases her breath.
So it's a shock to Buffy when she sees the wraith give one last desperate attempt at its target and slip a bony hand around Emma's ankle and drag her into the portal with it.
Mary-Margaret cries out and jumps after Emma, followed shortly after by David. It's almost like a terrible joke when David is left on the floor dumbstruck as the portal closed without him in it. He lifts himself up off the floor and Jefferson's hat is there crushed beneath him.
Buffy's concerned, of course she is. But there's a ringing in her ears and the dizziness is still there. She must be concussed, she decides. David is shouting at Regina and suddenly David is pushed back into the wall, tree branches growing from the wall paper, wrapping around David and choking him. Buffy stumbles to her feet to help, but Regina lifts her hand in Buffy's direction and she can feel the press of magic on her that keeps her in place.
"Mom!" A young voice shouts, a boy.
David is released from the wall, and Buffy feels the magic lift away and she can move again. Unfortunately the only direction she moves in is right back to the floor as her stomach lurches. Things are happening around her; Regina is speaking to the boy, Ruby Lucas is there, and David is coming toward her, but these things don't register properly.
"He'll stay with me!" David proclaims, and his voice is right next to her head which makes her ears ring more. She feels his hands on her arms, guiding her to her feet. "Come on, you don't so good." It takes some effort, but Buffy is able to stand and walk with David with minimal support. They're outside when David suggests, "Maybe we should take you to the hospital."
Her back is aching, her head is pounding and her ears are ringing, but Buffy manages to stand on her own as she says, "If you take me anywhere near Doctor Whale, I will vomit on you."
David's eyes widen comically at her statement and shortly after she finds herself home and in bed.
The next morning Buffy's aches and pains are almost healed. Her concussion is reduced to a mild ache behind her eyes and her back is sore, the deep scratches from hitting the bench healed. Given that she hadn't actively slayed anything in 28 years and her reflexes and stamina are shit, Buffy is at least pleased that her healing rate is back to normal.
She spends her morning getting her body used to activity. She jogs (something she hadn't needed to do for exercise before), she performs katas, and she borrows the elementary school's playground to do pull-ups and other exercises.
Normally, she'd be in her shop by nine, opened and ready for customers, but with the curse breaking, she doesn't see the point. As she walks back from the elementary school down Main Street, she notices that many other townsfolk have come to the same conclusion. Aside from the fact that the wraith did a number on the town before they forced it through the portal, the town is quiet with many shops unopened with darkened windows. As promised though, she swings by the sporting goods store she hit up last night and dutifully signs her credit card slip, avoiding the judgmental gaze leveled at her.
Buffy's walk also takes her past town hall where most of Storybrooke has gathered. Many are seeking help after the Wraith ruined their cars or homes, most are looking for loved ones who were cursed. In a word; pandemonium.
The first person Buffy notices is Marco, putting up signs looking for Pinocchio. She's still having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that fairy tales are real. She places her hand on his shoulder, "We'll find him, Marco."
He nods, she can see how he wants to remain optimistic, but his eyes are sad and if she didn't know any better, full of guilt. She can hear him muttering to himself, "My boy. My Boy."
The rest of the crowd isn't fairing too well either. The nuns are handing out water and blankets, Archie is asking if anyone needs counseling services, and Ruby is directing people to where they need to be. She notices Victor Whale milling about the crowd and cringes. The last thing she wants is to run into him so she makes a quick getaway and resumes her walk back to her house.
She takes the long way around, swinging by Mr. Gold's Pawn Shop. Part of her wants to barge in on the lizard man, but the other part of herself feels cautious. She's so unresolved over her cursed self and her real self that she can't even tell which part of her wants to do what. The only part she feels sure over is the Slayer part, and that's flashing a huge 'slay him now' vibe and she isn't sure she can handle seeing him.
She's just reached the corner of the end of Main Street when she hears a muffled voice. Down the side street is an overturned car where the noise is coming from. Buffy peers into the window, and sure enough, she can see someone futilely banging their fists against the window.
She rushes over and tries the door but it's stuck. "No better moment than to see how much strength is back," she mutters to herself. She braces one hand on the body of the car and the other on the door. "Hey! I'm gonna get you out! Brace yourself!" And with a tug, she pulls the door straight off the car.
"Oh thank god," she hears a man's voice. "No one could hear me."
Buffy is momentarily stunned. She knows exactly who she saved.
"Jefferson?"
There he is; Jefferson March. He looks a little banged up of course, he must have spent the night in his overturned car. He's holding a gray stuffed rabbit in his hand, but Buffy only gives it a cursory glance. She's also not afraid to admit that she's not at all gentle when she hauls him out of his car.
"Buffy," he greets her once he's vertical. But Buffy is so not in the mood and shoves him against the car.
"What the hell Jefferson?!" She's kept it together so far the last two days but her voice rises in an almost hysterical shriek.
A pained groan makes it out of his throat. "This is not what I expected from my rescuer."
Another shove. "You did this! You and him! I wouldn't be here if you didn't come barging into my world with your stupid ugly hat!"
He looks affronted. "Hey, my hat is not ugly!" Buffy makes to shove him again, but Jefferson catches her arms. It's surprisingly easy since he was expecting slayer strength, but she's holding back.
"Twenty-eight years, Jefferson! I had a family! But I'm here, alone, without them!" Her face is wet, dripping actually as she sobs out the words.
He looks solemn, no longer teasing or joking, as he holds her arms. "How do you think I feel? Buffy? How do you think it's been for me? Twenty-eight years of this cursed life, watching the whole town from my house, knowing both lives… Trying to get through to someone, anyone, but never being able to. I didn't do this."
She shrugs out of his hold to wipe her tears. It's awkward now, and she feels slightly guilty. After all, he was committed after she fled his house those years ago. He had tried to tell her who she was, but she wouldn't listen. She couldn't listen. It was the curse.
"What do I do?"
It's such a loaded and heavy question, but she needs to ask it. It needs to be said. Where does she go now? The curse is lifted and she knows who she is, but how does she get home? Can she even get home? If time passed in her world, how would she fit back in when she still looked 25 and her little sister nearing 50?
"Have a cup of tea?" He offers weakly. He doesn't have the answer either.
Buffy huffs out a laugh and wipes her nose on her sleeve. "I am not drinking anything you offer me again, Jefferson."
He sighs dramatically, "It was one time!"
"Once was enough. You know I don't like being Cave-Buffy and all 'grr'." She rubs her temple, her busy morning beginning to catch up on her and her just-healed injuries.
"You alright?" He asks, gesturing to her head.
"Yeah, just had a run in with a wraith last night." She glances at his car, "same as you apparently."
He smirks. "Yeah, it wasn't all that comfortable. You should go home… get some rest."
"Why do I need to do that? I'm Supergirl again." She crosses her arms over her chest. "Besides, the sheriff fell through the portal your ugly hat made and the whole town is going wacko over at town hall. It's better if I'm keeping an eye out on things."
He puts up a hand, "Wait, Emma went through my hat? To where?"
Buffy shrugs helplessly, "I'm not sure. I know she and Regina had been aiming for the Enchanted Forest, but Regina kept insisting it wasn't there anymore."
Jefferson's eyes narrow as he mumbles curses under his breath. Buffy even swears she hears the words 'evil bitch queen' but she can't be certain, her head is getting fuzzy again.
In the end, she decides to head home and recuperate. She threatens Jefferson that their conversation isn't over, to which he just nods with a funny sort of gleam in his eyes (like it's all he's ever wanted, for her to remember and to threaten bodily harm.)
Buffy wakes up to knocking on her front door. A glance at her alarm clock tells her she slept the afternoon away and it's passed dinnertime. With a groan and a sigh, she heads to her door to see who would be there.
She's definitely surprised to see David Nolan standing on her porch looking unsure of himself.
"Hi," she greets him awkwardly.
He shifts his weight to his back foot, "I just wanted to check up on you… see how you were doing since last night. Um, Marco told me where you lived, hope you don't mind?"
Buffy steps back from her doorway to allow him past, non-verbal invite of course. Her house is modest and a little on the small side, but comfortable none the less. She walks him into her living room.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
He shakes his head no, lips forming a polite smile. "So, you're looking better than yesterday."
She grimaces a little, "Yeah, I have sort of a tough constitution." There's no way in hell she's divulging her Slayer-y secrets to Prince Charming.
"Right," he responds, clearly inferring more than he should in Buffy's opinion. "I didn't see you out at Town Hall today, so you might not know, but we can't cross the town line."
"But the curse is broken?"
He looks chagrined, "It is. But the boundary of the town remains. If you cross, your cursed self becomes your only self. You lose your memories all over again."
"Well, that's a bit of a bummer."
A beat of silence fills the room until David clears his throat. "I remembered seeing you around town with Marco- uh Gepetto, so I asked him about you."
Violation of privacy aside, Buffy scoffs, "Yeah that is still so weird."
"You're not from the Enchanted Forest? It's true?"
She purses her lips, "It's true."
"You're awfully mum on the subject," he wheedles.
"I don't trust you."
And instead of taking offense like she thinks, David smirks and says, "Fair enough." He sighs and runs his hand over his head, "There's something I need to ask you. I made a promise to the people of this town that I would protect them. And I plan to uphold that promise. But, I realize that I can't do that alone. Whether you're from the Enchanted Forest or not, you came forward to help defend Regina from that wraith. That to me tells me you're a good person. I'm stepping up as sheriff until my daughter and my wife come back, and I could use a deputy until then. Do you accept?"
In all of the years Buffy has been slaying, no one ever spoke to her, of her, like David Nolan just did. It only takes her a minute to decide, "Does the position come with sugary goodness in the form of doughnuts?"
A smile forms on his face, "I guess it does now."