Jim sat on the end of the dock, keeping an eye on the Benbow Inn. His mother, Sarah Hawkins, owned the Inn and for the last two months he had been watching her and trying to gather up enough courage to talk to her.

It was morning now and all the docks near the Inn were crowded with boats and their sailors. The Inn was equally as crowded with a breakfast rush. Sarah was bustling back and forth, serving the outside and tables and then disappearing inside to attend to those tables as well. As far as Jim could tell, there was only one other waitress. Jim was a little too far way to see if he recognized her. Though, he couldn't recall any other waitress working for his mom in the past. Of course, after she sent Jim off to The Smith House she would have needed extra help around the Inn.

Jim stayed on the dock all morning; avoiding tourists and dodging irritable fisherman. Once the rush of people from the Inn had finally left, Jim took his chance to talk to his mom. He made his way to the Inn and slipped through the door; then stood awkwardly in the dining room. There were only a couple customers left at the tables, but he didn't see his mom. The waitress was at one of the tables and turned when she heard Jim walk in.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a forced friendly tone. She walked towards Jim, spinning her empty tray on her finger the way an athlete would spin a basketball. Jim had to admit she was cute. She looked to be about seventeen with black hair pulled back in a ponytail, a brown pleated skirt with striped stockings, ankle boots and a turquoise tank top. Her name tag said Vanellope. She stopped in front of him and eyed him as she waited for him to answer.

"Uh..." Jim cleared his throat. "I'm looking for Sarah Hawkins.

The girl stared at Jim and snapped her gum. After a few awkward moments she said, "Sarah's in the kitchen. I'll get her." She disappeared through the swinging door and a minute later, Sarah came out.

Sarah wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to Jim. There was absolutely no recognition in her eyes when she looked at him. "I'm Sarah Hawkins. Can I help you?"

Jim felt his heart deflate. So Kida had been right; his mom really didn't remember him. He may as well have been just another one of the nameless fishermen or tourists that came into her restaurant everyday. "I'm looking for a job," Jim finally said.

Sarah glanced around the Inn. She looked tired and older than Jim remembered; clearly the result of stress. She sighed. "It just so happens that I am in a desperate need of a bus boy. When can you start?"

Jim picked up a couple dirty dishes off a nearby table. "Now."

Sarah gave him a weak smile. "Great. What's your name?"

"Jim."

Sarah nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Jim."

:::X:::X:::X:::

Esmeralda's face was the only thing Hercules saw anymore. Her eyes wide with confusion and fear. Her face was distorted by the water, but he could see it vividly. She clawed at his hands and face, trying to get free; he but he didn't let up. It was her or them. He had a choice to make and even though he didn't regret it, he was still over come with guilt and horror at the fact that he had killed someone.

Hercules has always been stronger than most people. He was sent to The Smith House because there had been times, without meaning to, that he would cause accidents or destruction or even hurt someone. The teachers and principal at his school called him "dangerous" and "a menace to society". But, he had never killed anyone before- especially deliberately.

After getting away from The Smith House and the cabin hideaway, Hercules got his own small studio apartment and shut himself off from the other survivors. Except Ariel. She was the only one who knew what he was going through. She, too, had been forced to kill people without wanting to and their faces still haunted her as well.

But, Ariel seemed to be emotionally stronger than Hercules. She was still able to function and carry on with her life, while Hercules could barely bring himself to leave his apartment. Every day it got harder and harder for him. Most days he could barely get out of bed and would end up going through all the beer Flynn would drop off for him. Flynn told him drinking helped him forget; even if it was just for a few hours. Though, it was starting to take more and more alcohol to make Hercules forget.

This afternoon was no exception. He had already gone through a six pack and it was only noon. He sat on the floor of his empty apartment building with a half full bottle in his hand and empty bottles strewn about the floor around him.

"Why did Esmeralda have to die?" Hercules wondered out loud. "Maleficent could have just easily chosen any one of us to brainwash and send on a killing spree. Why not me? I'm stronger than Esmeralda. Why am I so special that I got to live and not her? She didn't deserve what happened to her." Hercules took a long drink from his bottle. "I'm dangerous. Ask anybody. I deserve to be dead. She should be home right now honoring the memory of her child." He shook his head. "I know she didn't kill that boy. But I killed her." He frowned. "I killed her," repeated angrily. He threw the beer bottle at the wall in front of him and it shattered.

Hercules got to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. He was careful not to look at himself in the mirror as he threw open the medicine cabinet. He used more force than he had wanted and the cabinet broke off its hinges. He let out a frustrated growl and slammed it on the floor.

After Meg had self-diagnosed herself with insomnia, she gave Hercules her sleeping pills; hoping they would help him sleep. He hadn't wanted them because sleep always brought nightmares of Esmeralda. But he didn't want to refuse her kind gesture, so he took the pills. The bottle has been sitting unused in his medicine cabinet since then.

Hercules reached out and took the bottle now. He eyed it for a long time as he walked back out to his living room. He sat back down on the floor and carefully opened the bottle. He was going to make things right.

Hercules dumped the entire bottle of pills into his mouth, then knocked them back with some leftover beer. This was the right thing to do.

He couldn't bring Esmeralda back, but he could settle the score by taking his own life.