A/N: Explanation time! I gave Knave/Will a curse name, and that is mostly what Graham's gonna call him. It's Jack Hertz, and I came up with it like this: the Knave of Hearts, in the Wonderland/playing cards correlation that goes on, would be the Jack of Hearts, and Hertz is derived from German herz meaning "heart" (found that on behindthename). So, Jack Hertz = Jack Heart = Jack of Hearts = Knave of Hearts.
Disclaimer's in the prologue.
She's intently checking the bars when the Knave's footfalls and muttering stop.
"Bloody hell!" he swears, loudly.
She looks back and he is staring wide-eyed at the prisoner.
"Sheriff Humbert…" the Knave says, "I thought you were dead!"
"Jack?" the man appears incredulous, "Jack Hertz? How are you here?"
"Seriously? How am I here? You're gonna ask me that? You're the dead man! There was a funeral, I remember. I made sure to behave extra well for Sheriff Swan that day."
"Emma got my job, Regina didn't take it from her?" the man asks. Alice stops studying the bars for a moment. The two men clearly know each other, even if the man in the cell called the Knave by a strange name. That fact intrigues her, even if she doesn't know what in the world they're talking about.
"Well, there was an election and Regina backed Sidney Glass, but yeah," the Knave nods.
"And is Emma alright? Is she safe? What about Henry?"
"Last time I saw Sheriff Swan she was nearly runnin' me down with her car, so yeah, I'd say she's alright. I don't know about the boy. I never was particularly social with Snow and James' crowd."
"The curse is broken, then?"
"Of course it's broken, I would've thought I was insane when the Rabbit asked me to come help Alice if it wasn't."
"No need to get so up in arms, Jack, I haven't exactly been in Storybrooke in… Well, you probably have a better idea how long it's been than me."
Alice turns back to the bars on the cell. Their conversation is interesting, sort of, but makes about as much sense as every other time the Knave starts talking about that other world he'd been in. He still hasn't explained what a Care Bear is.
"Wait a second; if you know about the curse, you must've known it was broken."
"No," the man vigorously shakes his head, "It was broken on me… Separately. Emma kissed me, and-"
"True Love, eh?" the Knave interrupts, "Shame you had that heart attack."
"It wasn't a heart attack," the man lets out a growl. Alice is surprised at the sheer animal-like quality of the noise.
"There was an obituary…"
"It wasn't a heart attack," the man insists, "I didn't have a heart to have a heart attack. The Queen took it from me in the old world."
"Regina had your heart?"
"And crushed it. I know she did, I felt it."
"Bloody hell," the Knave's eyes go wide, "That woman is mad."
"Apparently it was a family trait," the man laughs darkly, "She had a pirate come here to Wonderland to kill Cora – her mother."
"Would you stop chatting and help me find a way to get him out, Knave?" Alice asks, finally fed up with how useless he's being. So he knows this man. They can catch up later.
"Why don't we just give him some of the supplies you bought?" the Knave suggests. Alice feels her cheeks redden; she should've thought of shrinking him down and then having him grow back to size as a solution first thing.
"Right," she nods, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small piece of mushroom and a drink me bottle. She hands them through the bars to the man.
"Eat the mushroom, come out here, then drink from the bottle," she instructs. He eyes the food warily but shrugs and takes a bite.
Alice has never watched someone else shrink before and it's a surprisingly fast process. It always felt like it took so much longer when she did it.
In moments he is full size again, on the proper side of the bars. He hands the mostly full bottle back to her and she puts it back in the bag.
"I'm Alice," she holds out a hand for him to shake, "You?"
"Graham," he takes her hand, "Just Graham."
"We're trying to find Alice's love, Cyrus," the Knave informs Graham as the three of them start walking towards the exit, "I'm finding a way back to Storybrooke as soon as that's over. You want in?"
"I did a lot of horrible things when Regina had my heart," Graham says, his tone cautious, "Helping someone find their love is a good way to start making amends. And if you're going to offer me passage home… Of course I'll help."
…
Night is falling as Graham and his new companions exit the caves.
"We'll have to find someplace close by to camp for tonight," Alice says.
Camping, eh? He hasn't slept under the stars in a long time. Somehow, even in this most unnatural world, the thought of being out in the wild gives him a simple form of happiness he hasn't felt in a long time.
It's comfortable. It's familiar. It's who he was before Regina interfered.
It wasn't that he had expected them to have a roof over their head, but he hadn't really thought about what that meant. About being, living, outside again.
He'd missed that ever since he'd spared Snow. During his time in this cage, though, it wasn't the wild that had called to him; he hadn't given his old world a second thought. No, it had been his family that consumed him, this time around, and he's not sure what to make of this change in his own nature.
Or the fact that he likes it. He likes that Emma and Henry have changed him. They're his pack. They're his everything. Perhaps it's his curse side shining through, but he would give up the woods forever if they asked – the funny part is, he knows that Emma would never ask that of him, and he's still more than willing.
They find shelter under a very tall mushroom and both Alice and Jack start setting up their own areas to sleep.
"We'll have to get you a weapon," Alice says once he sits in the grass himself, "Are you any good with a sword?"
"I'm better with a bow or a dagger," he states simply. They always came more naturally to him – they were hunting weapons. Practical weapons. Not like a sword. A sword was unwieldy and really only good for silly human things like duels. Daggers and bows were purely human as well, but they were much more useful. They'd always been like an extension of himself.
"You know, Sheriff, that doesn't surprise me," Jack laughs, "The bow thing. I remember that night before you died, your darts game at Granny's… Gave me chills. You've got good aim."
"You were there, that night?" Graham asks. He doesn't remember that. Of course, most of that night is overshadowed by the memory of kissing Emma that first time, when he couldn't put it into words when she asked why he cared.
It was one of the best things that had ever happened in his life. Even if the curse's hold on him hadn't started to fracture with it – he thinks it didn't break fully because it was over too soon, because she was so pissed at him, perhaps because it was stolen, not given to him freely – it would have been one of the best things that he'd ever experienced. The chocolate and cinnamon taste on her perfect lips, the softness of her skin… The only thing better was when she'd kissed him and broken his curse fully, when he'd seen how she fit in his arms, when he'd been able to realize that they belonged with each other.
"Well, I left before the thing with Swan happened. Only heard about that the next morning at breakfast. You really throw a dart at her head?"
"You really try and steal a stuffed Care Bear every day for twenty eight years?" Graham throws back at him.
"It was Funshine Bear!"
Graham raises an eyebrow at Jack's poor defense of his actions.
"The curse made me very passionate about Care Bears. I had all the other ones. And yes, I know it's odd and creepy, but we can blame Regina for that, okay? I have seen the error of my ways, thanks to your girlfriend."
"Would someone explain to me what a Care Bear is?" Alice interrupts, though Graham had already opened his mouth, about to correct Jack. Emma isn't his girlfriend, not technically. Almost, she almost had been. And he loves her, more than anything. But they're trapped in separate worlds and if Jack's reaction to seeing him – and words about a funeral – is anything to go by, Emma believes he's dead. He cannot claim her as his girlfriend. It's not fair to her – perhaps she's moved on, in the time he's been gone, found someone else? True Love or not he could never blame her if she did – and it's just not the truth.
"They're a brand of… Well, children's toys, I suppose," he says, to answer Alice's question. It's the easiest way he can explain it. Even if it does leave out the greeting cards (which were in abundance at Mr. Clark's Pharmacy), and the television specials (even once Emma came and time started moving again, Storybrooke's few TV channels were limited and trapped in the eighties).
"Children's toys?" Alice looks highly amused at this.
"Soft toy bears with singular defining personality traits," Jack says, sighing, "For example, Grumpy Bear. Rather explains itself."
"You two are going to have to tell me more about this curse," Alice says, "half the words from your mouths don't make any sense whatsoever."
Graham nods, understanding where she's coming from. It was a strange thing, the curse.
"Later," Jack says, "Right now we should just get some sleep."
The ground is hard, but Graham doesn't care. He's slept on worse. He's used to discomfort.
As he starts to drift off, Emma and Henry flash across his vision.
I'm coming, he thinks. He will see them again. He will make sure of that.
…
Emma knows she's dreaming.
She knows it for one simple reason – Graham is there, standing next to the well that promises to return what's been lost.
Funny, that's exactly what she'd been wishing for when August made her drink. She'd gotten Henry's book back instead. Not that she thought it was because of the well – at the time, or even now. August had admitted he'd had it, meaning he'd placed it behind the tire to her car.
Still, just after she and Mary Margaret had gotten back from the Enchanted Forest, she'd secretly slipped back out to the well and tried again. Just in case the magic Gold had unleashed…
But of course it hadn't. And she should've known it wouldn't have, shouldn't have bothered trying, should've known that nothing would change, that she still wouldn't have him. Should've been happy with what she had. But she had tried anyway, because if she was really going to have to accept that she was some fairytale princess… All she had wanted, in that moment – and it was a very weak moment – was her happily ever after with the man she loved.
He sees her and his wonderful kind beautiful smile lights his face.
"Emma," he says. His accent curls around her name just the way it always did – and funny how she can't quite remember what it sounded like when she's awake, but here in her dreams it's spot on.
"Graham," she lets his name slip out. Her voice cracks a little from her emotions. The sadness, from having lost him, the pain of seeing him again and knowing it isn't real, especially with everything that's happening in her life lately… There's so much going on in her heart.
He frowns, probably from hearing her emotional stress so blatantly. There's something nice about the fact that her being upset makes him upset. Even if – she has to keep reminding herself of this before she loses sight of it and gets too happy about having him back – it's just a dream. And if she's dreaming him, of course he's going to be upset that she's upset.
"Are you okay?" he asks, about to take a step towards her.
Finally she can't help but throw herself into his arms. It's just a dream, anyway, so it doesn't matter how ridiculous she acts, right? And him asking if she's okay is just the breaking point. She hasn't truly cried since the night he'd died, but she feels his hands rubbing her back as the sobs rack her body.
"It's fine, I've got you, everything will be fine," he murmurs into her hair, "Tell me what's wrong. We can figure it out."
"I'm sorry," she chokes out. He stops, and cups her face, making her look him in the eye.
"Emma, you have nothing to apologize for," he whispers, wiping away her tears.
"It's my fault you're dead!" she says sharply, biting her lip when she realizes how harsh it came out. Some confusion lights behind his eyes but it's gone in a moment.
"No, Emma," he kisses the top of her forehead, "Don't you ever blame yourself for that. No one would have believed me, no one. And you still freed me from her, from the curse, before that. She killed me, not you. I don't ever want to hear you say you're responsible again."
His hands fall back to her waist and she buries her head in his shoulder.
"I miss you," she whispers, "I need you. Henry's dad is back in my life because he's Gold's son and I just… I wish you were here. To hold me, for real. To listen to me… Mary Margaret and Gold both have accused me of still being in love with Neal and really… I just want you back."
"I miss you too, princess," he holds her tighter, "And I promise you – I'm coming home. I'm coming back to Storybrooke. We will be together again."
She smiles despite the fact that she knows it's just a dream, despite the fact that he can't come home, despite the fact that he called her princess. From him, that feels affectionate, rather than an unwelcome reminder of her title. And even if it is way too girly for her tastes, the fact is, him having given her an endearment makes her feel… Special.
"I think his fiancée is hiding something, I think she may have killed Pinocchio, he was trying to warn us about a woman and…" she confesses – calling August Pinocchio feels odd on her tongue but Graham was gone before August ever got there – since she needs to talk to someone who'll listen and as long as she's got him here, she figures she might as well, "That's why Mary Margaret-"
"No," Graham interrupts, "If you think that woman is bad news, there's most likely something to it. You have good instincts. Snow did too, but obviously she's letting the fact that Henry's father is involved cloud them. Back home, good people didn't leave the ones they had children with. She may know that's not the case in the Land Without Magic but she's clearly not thinking about that."
Emma blinks slowly, pulling back and looking him in the eyes again. His expression is painfully tender.
"You believe me?" she asks.
"Always, Emma. I always believe you. Even if I don't always show it."
"Even about the wolf in the road?" Emma raises an eyebrow.
"Okay," he chuckles, "I didn't believe you about that, when it happened. But I believe you were telling the truth about it now. And I always believed you about Dr. Hopper and the files. Unfortunately, it was your word against his, and I did have to do my job."
"Oh is that why you offered me a job even after arresting me twice? As an apology because you knew you were in the wrong?"
"No," he shakes his head and kisses her nose, "That was because I wanted to spend time with you."
Emma feels herself blushing. This version of Graham her subconscious has presented her with is surprisingly straightforward. She… She can't even imagine the real him saying that.
"I love you, Emma," he says, looking her directly in the eyes, not even blinking, "I have from the moment I met you. And I'm going to find a way home."
God, she wants to wake up. It felt like he was telling the truth. She's not sure how much more of that she can take, knowing that it's not real.
"I love you too, Graham," she replies. Normally she would never admit that. But it's a dream, it's not really him, and she may never have another chance to say it. That really depends on if she ever dreams of him again.
She couldn't tell him for real, so she had to tell him here. She'd missed her chance in reality and it had eaten at her soul. She wasn't going to miss that chance now.
That incredible smile is on his face again, just like the one he had that night in the station – and oh, how it hurts – and once again he's leaning in to kiss her – no, no, no, her sense of déjà vu is far too strong, this has to stop! – she closes her eyes and begs to wake up – there's not a dead weight in her arms, his lips are on hers and oh he feels so real, so warm, so alive – she changes her mind, she begs never to wake up – and then the weight of his lips is gone and she knows if she opens her eyes, she'll be alone.
…
Will doesn't find it a surprise when he wakes in the morning and he's the last one up. He does find it a surprise that while Alice is practicing her sword skills on their shelter mushroom (again; that is also not a surprise) the former Sheriff is cooking some… Well, it looks a bit like squirrel.
Does Wonderland even have squirrels? He doesn't know, but whatever it is, Graham has it roasting over a small flame.
"You can cook?" he asks. He never would've expected it. Under the curse the man had practically lived at Granny's diner during mealtimes.
"Yes, Jack, I can cook," Graham rolls his eyes at him, "This is not my first time living in the wild. I can do this much. Stick me in an actual kitchen and I'd be useless, but this is fine."
"It's Will, actually," he corrects.
"Sorry," Graham says, "Should've asked before I just started calling you by your curse name."
"I don't hate it," Will shrugs, "Here in Wonderland most everyone just calls me Knave and being Jack is definitely a step up. I just thought you might want to know."
Even Alice just calls him Knave most of the time. Sometimes she'll slip, but it's rare. He's almost a little offended by it. They're supposed to be best friends. She should be able to call him Will.
An oddly sympathetic look crosses Graham's face for a moment, but it's gone almost as fast.
"You never wanted the title 'Knave of Hearts,' did you?" he asks, some barely concealed pain in his voice, looking back down to the… Well, Will's going to keep thinking of it as squirrel until he's told otherwise. Not normally something he'd eat but at least he's heard of it being eaten.
"Of course not," Will says, "But you sound like you know what that's like. Why did you choose your curse name when you introduced yourself to Alice?"
"Because all I had in the old world was my unwanted title. The Queen's Huntsman."
"That was you?" Things are certainly starting to fall into place now. The tales about the Huntsman's ruthless and unfeeling nature… The fact that Graham said Regina had taken his heart… He should've seen it before.
"That was me," Graham nods, rotating the little spit over the fire, "She hired me to kill Snow White. When I didn't, she took my heart. But I've never regretted it. Never will. My family wouldn't even exist if I had actually killed Snow. I'd go through it all again just for them."
"Cora's the one who took mine. I don't even remember why anymore. At least she didn't behead me. She was fond of that little trick. Alice retrieved it for me, but a lot of the damage was already done. My love was gone, I was rather hated. You're lucky, I think. When we get back to Storybrooke, you know, people missed you. Granny closed down the diner for two days after word got out you died. No one really talks about it, but… You had friends."
"They didn't remember who I used to be."
"Granted. But you'll still have Emma and the boy, won't you?"
"Hopefully they'll accept me, yes."
…
According to Alice, they're headed to the nearest town to find him a weapon. Graham's glad of this. He feels wrong without one.
Jack – Will – whatever – has been oddly quiet since learning Graham was the Huntsman before. He understands, and appreciates, that it's not being held against him. Because Jack, apparently, knows what it's like, to lose all your feeling, all your free will.
He's specifically avoided telling the man just how horrid Regina had been, though. No one needs to know that his dignity had been stripped of him as well as his will and emotions.
Well, eventually Emma will need to know that. But that is mostly because she already knows some of it and he needs her to understand that it wasn't his choice, that if he could've ensured it somehow, she would've been the only woman he ever got anywhere near, that it turns his stomach, how Regina used him.
No one else needs that knowledge, however. Henry, especially, should be preserved from it. Regina may not have been the best mother in the world but he knows Henry still loves the woman and he doesn't want to disillusion the boy.
Henry is too good, too full of optimism and love. He will not destroy that just because of what he went through. He knows all too well what it is to not have that.
In his own childhood, with the wolves, despite the love he did have for his pack, he had basically been Henry's opposite. Whereas Henry sees the good in people, the light, he always saw the darkness. He hadn't been a hopeful child, but a practical one. And that was how he'd survived, really. Accept that people are dark, and you're on guard for them, prepared when they try to harm you. That had been how he lived his life.
Until he met Snow. That young woman, who he now hopes will someday be his mother-in-law, had changed a lot of things for him. She'd made him see that people could be good. He thinks Henry must have inherited his unfailing inner light from his grandmother. Emma has a bit of it too, he knows that, he had seen it there, below the surface; it had been beaten into submission by years in a cruel, cruel world, but it was still there.
When he gets back to her, he will do his best to make sure that light is healed.
By accepting Snow's light, he had condemned himself to losing his heart and while he can't regret that – there would be no Emma, no Henry, if he hadn't – there is still a part of him that will always be bitter. He's not sure how he'll handle being in the same town as Regina, probably having to interact with her because of the connection to Henry. He will find a way, he will have to find a way, but it will not be easy.
Love never is, of course, and he would be a fool to think that settling back into Storybrooke and being a family with Emma and Henry would be. Especially if there is any truth to what she'd said in that dream he'd had last night, about Henry's father being Gold's son. That will complicate things so much further, since it means the man is probably back in the boy's life.
He's not sure how that dream had happened, but he's glad it did. Being able to see Emma, to hold her, even if it wasn't real, was something he'd needed sorely.
He will deal with all that later, he decides, shaking his head to pull himself out of his thoughts. Wonderland is a dangerous world; he has to remind himself of that. It would not do for him to be wrapped up in his own mind if anything happened.
