There were strange happenings occurring throughout the town. They started small and so went unnoticed by most. Those who picked up on them attributed them to nothing more than a simple mistake, a misunderstanding, or just a small oddity that raised no need for concern. Really, there was no reason to connect the peculiarities since they were of such a minor event that they would go without mention in ordinary conversation: a clock that was an hour and a half slow overnight, a feeling of déjà vu, an appearance of an extra laugh line. All of these things were normal occurrences in the ordinary course of human experience, so the residents of Storybrooke could hardly be blamed for not recognizing that something was off.
It wasn't until people within the town starting reporting lost days and missing hours that it became apparent that there was an issue. "Thank you, Granny. I appreciate you coming in to talk to us. We'll get to the bottom of it." Emma was at a loss. When the first people had reported the problem, she'd suspected alcohol. As the days wore on, however, and the number of people reporting the problem increased, it was less and less likely. Take Granny, for instance; while she was no prude, the woman was certainly not known for drowning away her evenings.
"Well, love, that settles it. Something is amiss." Killian was sitting in the corner, his feet raised on the desk and arms behind his head.
"Yes, but what? It's not like the town has been invaded by little grey men." Killian looked at her in askance, not understanding the reference. She smiled and waved it aside; she'd explain later. "I think we should talk to Regina," she suggested.
"Aye, and perhaps Belle as well. If the Queen hasn't run into this before, perhaps Belle can help with some research." That made sense. Seeing the approval in her eyes, Killian continued, "What say I head over to the library while you hit up our local government?" Not waiting for a response, he swung his legs down and crossed the room. He gave her a brief kiss on the neck, just behind the ear. His smile was devilish when she shivered.
"No, I've never seen anything like this before. I'm not even sure what this is." Regina was clearly puzzled by what Emma had relayed. Emma was surprised, however, when Regina continued, "I thought I was just going a little crazy."
"You, too? When did it happen? Where? For how long?" Emma was a little perturbed, but not shocked, that Regina hadn't said anything before. The Queen wasn't known for willingly showing weakness; a trait Emma shared.
"Two nights ago, I lost about 45 minutes. One minute it was 11:15, the next, it was midnight."
"Are you sure you didn't just fall asleep?"
"Yes," Regina answered dryly, "I'm sure."
"Ok, ok. So, then do you have any suggestions? Whatever is happening, it seems to be spreading."
The word spreading gave Regina an idea. "I wonder if it is literally spreading." Emma gave her a confused look. "Like a virus, I mean. Maybe, if we can figure out who the first person was to have experienced it, we'll get a clue as to what, or who, is causing it."
Emma smiled. "I like that."
Belle was a mite pretty lass, if one came to think of it. Had he not been happily entranced by Swan, he might have had a go at her once. That is, if she weren't married to the Crocodile. And, if he hadn't tried to kill her. Twice. Likely best that his observation was in pure disinterest, given their history.
"Nothing that rings a bell?" Killian was amused by his own pun, even knowing that it was not likely to be the first time the words had been uttered to the lass.
"No," Belle stated. She was busy looking through books, much like she had been from the few minutes after he had walked in. She started musing aloud, not bothering to comment upon his clichéd choice of words. "From your description, the thing that seems to be tying all the events together is time. I have a few books in here from Regina's old library. I'll continue to look and let you and Emma know what I find."
"Sounds good." With that, Killian left the library. He'd been watching what Emma called 'crime dramas' on TV lately, so he tried to think of what the detectives in those shows would do. There was one, an off man, who was afraid of everything. He seemed to know just what to look for at just the right time. What would that religious man do? With the spark of an idea, Killian walked over to Granny's.
He'd about had it. He had talked to the patrons of Granny's, the bicycle shop, the grocery store, and the two local bars (where he might have taken a nip to blend in with the crowd), and not one person had noticed anything "unusual." That was always the question asked in his shows, though what exactly, it would look like was impossible to know. He was going to try the hardware store and then call it an evening. Perhaps, Emma had more luck, though her silence on the mobile device seemed to suggest that unlikely.
"Hello, mate. Might I have a moment of your time?" He asked the shopkeeper as he strode through the doors.
With nothing to show for a day's worth of investigating, Emma was disheartened. It didn't seem that anyone could pinpoint the first person to have lost time. They were all unsure of whether the first time it happened in the last few days or not, since the occasional loss of time was pretty normal. It was, to say the least, frustrating. She was just deciding whether to call it a night when her cell rang. She was surprised to see it was Killian. He wasn't terribly fond of cell phones just yet, and so it must be something worthwhile.
"Hey, what's up?"
"I think I have something, love. The proprietor of the hardware store noted that a young man had been in recently a few times to purchase an odd assortment of items. He didn't think much of it at first, but added together, I think it may be a clue to something happening that shouldn't be."
"I'll be right over."
Well, Killian was right. The receipts from the shop owner definitely showed an odd assortment of items. A few meters of rope, plenty of Gorilla tape, a few flour sacks, and even a length of chain. She wasn't big on jumping to conclusions, but if this were a mystery novel, that would be the recipe for holding someone against their will. The problem was that the young man (about 18 or so years old, from the shop keeper's description), paid in cash. All of it was last week, save for some more recent additions of additional tape. She'd have to talk to Regina again to see if she might know who the teen was. If not, the owner of the store was going to keep an eye out and call her if he say the kid again.
The next day started fresh and bright. Twice. The birds started chirping, the morning dew pricked, and the sun rose in the sky two separate times.
"Ok, we really need to find out what's happening. This isn't normal, and who knows if it is going to extend beyond Storybrooke and when." Emma was concerned. If there was one thing that she'd kind of gotten used to, it was that if she stayed in the 'real' world, time didn't change. That it was, and that it was becoming so erratic at that, was troubling.
"Aye, love. No quarrel there." As Killian started to say more, his phone rang.
"Deputy, he's here." It was the shopkeeper. He whispered to Killian as if the boy were somewhere close.
"We're on our way." Motioning to Emma, Killian hung up the phone and headed out the door.
Although the town wasn't large, one never knew how far outside of it a chase may extend, so they took the Bug. They were sitting in it, watching the store, when a young man walked out with a sack. He did not appear to be nervous, but rather walked as if he had no care in the world. He entered a vehicle and started driving the direction of Zelena's house.
He turned off the road shy of Zelena's place, taking a track that Emma had not been down before. Not knowing where this one lead, and whether her Bug would be conspicuous (it was yellow), she took the path to Zelena's instead, planning to hoof it to a vantage where they could see what the kid was up to.
Zelena came out to see them. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"You happen to know anything about a teen boy around this area?" Emma asked.
"There's a boy over the hill. I don't know his name, but I've seen him driving before. Why do you ask?"
"Have you not noticed? We had two sunrises this morning!" Killian was incredulous at the redhead.
"Is he the one doing that? I was wondering if someone was off trying to be naughty." Zelena expressed a strange sense of delight by the idea of wickedness. She may have turned a new leaf, but some things never completely change.
Zelena told them that her neighbor's house had a back way that might allow for more cover, and so Killian and Emma took it. The place was small, perhaps a single bedroom attached to what was probably a combined living room and kitchen. They crept up on the house and peaked through a window.
Inside, they saw a man in a chair. He was strapped down. The teen was not in sight, but the window was slightly open and it smelled like food, so he may have been cooking dinner. The man in the chair was slumped, but moving. His head was covered by a sack. Emma motioned to Killian to move toward the door. They may be able to get the man out before the teen could see, making the chances of his getting hurt that much less.
Killian saw what appeared to be a scythe by the far door when they snuck in. This teen was off his rocker. They got to the man and started untying the knots holding him. Emma removed the sack to motion to him not to move. When the sack was up, they saw the smoky grey eyes of what had to be the oldest man on the planet. His body hadn't shown his age too well, but his face did. It was weathered – lined and sun-spotted. He didn't move when they started undoing his binds, showing with his head that he understood the need to be quiet. They had just gotten him free when the teen walked into the room.
"What are you doing! Stop!" The boy practically cried out in anguish, the bowl of food he'd been carrying spilling to the floor.
Emma pulled her weapon, "I don't want anyone to get hurt here. You need to put your hands up and turn around."
"You don't understand. You don't. He's my only chance. I have to go back. I have to make it right." His voice broke as he pleaded with them, but he complied.
Back at the station, Emma and Hook questioned the young man. His name was Trevor. He was a sheepherder, or had been once. Unfortunately, he'd also been a bit of a trickster. He'd told one too many tricks to his town, which lead to the town council not believing him when it was under attack by a marauding group of men.
"The boy who cried wolf?!" Regina shouldn't have been surprised, but she was nonetheless. "But what was he doing with the old man?"
"Time. That was Father Time." Emma was still wrapping her head around that one.
"Aye. The lad managed to catch him and kept him with some medicines from this world."
"Roofies," Emma interjected.
"Whale says that our aged overseer should come fully round soon. Whale's best estimate was that the drugs were affecting the timeline, such that Father Time couldn't keep time for the rest of us."
"That's preposterous!" Regina had seen a lot of things; she was certain she'd have known if Father Time was an actual being.
"Nevertheless, Regina, that's our working theory. With the drugs easing out of his system, the complaints of time loss have dissipated. I'd say there's got to be something to it." As Emma finished speaking, her phone rang. It was the hospital.
"What? Say that again. Slowly."
Regina and Killian looked at each other and waited. When she got off the line, Emma sighed. "Well, it looks like we don't need to worry about getting the other side of the story. That was Whale. Apparently, our elderly friend came to, winked at a nurse and disappeared into thin air. All of his things are gone, too."
Regina sighed, "I love being Mayor." After a short pause, "Sometimes, I hate this town."
"Well, love, I'd say it's time for a nightcap and bed." Killian wiggled his eyebrows at Emma suggestively – ever the pirate.
"Please, go. I can only stand so much of this man's innuendos." Regina was clearly exasperated, while Emma was amused.
"You heard the Mayor, lass."
"Alright. Another time, Regina."