He finds her tossing in her sleep. It's not an agony to what he's so familiar. But she's aching to wake up and he strives to solace her sorrows.
"Shhh," he puts one hand on her shoulder with the other comfortingly rubbing her back as he sits at the edge of the bed. What else can he do? He's not the best reassurance. In fact, he knows nothing about it. Every time he saw grief in her eyes he got lost for words. He felt her pain but was unaware how to react, how to handle with it, how to ease it. Because in time of his own misery there was nobody for him to do the same.
She shudders and rolls over to face him when he smiles in response to her daze. Then the relief reflects on her face and echoes in his heart.
"Why are you here?" she asks quietly, pulling back into a pillow.
He takes her hands in his, on impulse. And it feels so good. Just marvelous.
His wolf is the closest to him, his family, the only one he is tangled with. While human connection, any relevance to them was humbling. The best he could feel toward them was compassion. The worst - hatred and disgust.
But she… that is… marvelous…
"I'm not going anywhere… without you… I won't leave," soft but confident he speaks, then an engaging grin enlightens his face, "So you'll have to become reconciled to my company. There's no other way. I won't retreat… So may all future fallen fowls rest in peace."
That makes her chuckle and she squeezes his hands tighter. If he only knew how much she's grateful to him. He's here. He holds hers. He won't let her fall.
"We'll search around for everything we may need," he halts for a moment, "And we can stay here for a while… or get settled… or move further… As you wish."
"I'm not sure yet," she confides following him.
They check huts one by one, the wolf ahead of them as a trackhound. Though the place is long abandoned, it makes her uncomfortable as they intrude others homes to arrogate whatever they will find useful. But… Surviving, sacrificing, reconciling.
"You've been questioning me, when it turns you're not willing to share much about yourself," it's not his style to forward a conversation, especially this sort of one, but he really wants to hear more about her and her life.
"There's nothing actually… to share," she falters. What she possibly could tell him? And what's more important, whether it matters already, what she had or what she was?
"What about family?" a weird question from his mouth, but yet reasoned, because that concealed part of his soul still sores.
"No family. No even a pet," she watches a wolf gorgeously running across their way.
Before showing astonishment he, though, corrects her, "He's not a pet. And why…"
"Sorry, nobody I could call a family," she cuts him off. "With two legs or four paws… or whatever."
That's true. But nonetheless she could say she was happy. Quite happy. Was. In that her life. Self-sufficient, hopeful, determined. And all that vanished here… So this is she now – lost, miserable, defenseless.
She feels his hand gently grabbing hers, but when she looks up at him he stares back at the road. Yes, she now also has him… to protect her, guide her and cheer her. Then why she hampers his tries, only complicates everything?
It's clear to both of them. It's because of the last principle she still challenges – to resign. And honestly, she doubts she will ever be able to do that. But she needs to begin… somehow.
She is here. No matter where and what it means. But she's here. And she can't change it. But she can change something here, she can take the best of it, of what she's left, of what she's given… And she knows where to start.
She forces them to stop and turns to him. At first he frowns, but beholding her smile he unwittingly copies it and his heart beats faster at a contact of their gazes and hands. But she lets it go, releases her hand just to move her arms higher along his body as she pulls closer and he merely gasps realizing the meaning of her words, "You know… it's not inappropriate."
This kiss comes not like the first one. It's conscious, intermutual. It's soft and humble, slowly turning into savoring and tempting, and then into fervent and… he breaks it. He springs back from her, overwhelmed, and infuses her with not less shock and terror.
"I'm sorry," he utters and she watches him turning away and then breaking into a run chased by his wolf.
Note: Probably, I should have made it clear before... for those who still read this crap. Ok, no, I like it. At least in my head it definitely looks perfect )
We know Graham died. In Storybrooke. When the curse was still on. And we also know that magic works in weird ways. So he could be brought back home, to Enchanted Forest. And with a little reward as his own heart (assuming, it's thanks to the Saviour, even if she's unaware).
What about a strange girl (still with no name) from the word without magic. Well, she technically didn't die. But she could have. She was looking the death in the eyes. And if it happened too fast so she even couldn't think or get a scare, then she would die there and there'd be no happy ending. But she had time to grasp the inevitable to happen. Her emotions became a trigger that reversed magic (!) and brought her home to Enchanted Forest. Because that's where she is originally from...