School has started up again, but that won't stop this writing machine! After a re-write and several editing passes, chapter four it good and ready. The plot is about to thicken once more...

A couple of years ago, Clay, Mike and Taylor went on an impromptu beer run. They had gotten off a late shift at the pizzeria and all the other two wanted was to drink the night away. It took a little cajoling to get Clay to join, but he eventually gave in. The actually purchasing went pretty flawlessly once they got to the liquor store. Hell, the register guy didn't even as for identification. So they were about to leave and enjoy their night of drunken stupor…

…when some haggard looking psycho walked inside with a shotgun. He told everyone to get on the floor, shooting a hole into the wall to show he meant business. Clay nearly shat himself sprawling on the ground next to Mike, while Taylor had the misfortune of being directly in the man's path to the register. Clay cursed and prayed to whoever was listening that they wouldn't die in a liquor shop. It seemed like a particularly pathetic death.

The man slurred and spat as he ordered the employee to point out the most expensive alcohol in stock. He then ordered Taylor to get it for him, emptying his spent shell to scare him. Taylor didn't waste a second getting back to his feet and grabbing the alcohol. He kept looking back to Clay and Mike to see if they saw anyway out of the situation. They had none to give sadly.

Once the alcohol was delivered, the employee opened the register and began emptying the till.

Then the gunman knocked the register off the counter with the butt of his weapon. He said something about money being 'the excrement of evil bureaucrats bending over our proud country.' He then opened the alcohol box, chugged one of the cans and put his own wallet on the counter. Clay then heard him mutter something about 'being dead before they knew it,' though it was unclear if he meant himself or one of them.

The man then tucked the case under an arm, shot out the store's front window and left as police sirens blared in the distance. And that was it. No other demands were made. No one else was threatened. He even closed the door on his way out. Clay never found out what happened to that guy, but he definitely didn't feel like drinking after that.

That had been the bar for Clay's 'weirdest moments ever' list. Being told he was a Fable topped it.

It wasn't being a storybook character that troubled him though. Well no, it did, but the little questions personal to him worried him more. If he was really a Fable, he should be as old as Nerissa right? Then why couldn't he remember anything before the last seven years? Why hadn't he noticed anything supernatural about him before now? Why didn't anyone here recognize him? Did surviving the car crash mean he was a popular Fable? He didn't feel like he was a Robin Hood or some other big hero. Then again, those killer Fables wouldn't chase him if he weren't significant somehow.

All of these questions buzzed in his head like a swarm of hornets. Even after everything that happened tonight, it felt too surreal to be true.

The twinge of pain he then felt on his scalp proved the opposite though.

"Sorry," Bufkin said standing on a table behind him as he discarded a piece of glass.

It had been an hour since the crash. There wasn't enough time to treat Clay's wounds before the Black Aggie or someone came back, so everyone got back in the car praying it would work. After a few failed attempts, the engine revved with enough power to take them to their destination before dying. Seeing how much damage the Golem dealt the car, Clay figured magic had to be involved with their stroke of luck.

Bigby and Nerissa led Clay into an apartment complex as someone from inside rushed out to help Snow with the car. Clay spotted a sign reading 'The Woodlands' on the way in and remembered the others had mentioned it earlier. Didn't they say it was unsafe? He didn't really have a choice in the matter though, so he had to go with it.

They eventually made their way up to a place called 'the Business Office.' If someone had told Clay a room this huge existed in this building before tonight, he would have called them crazy. The front part didn't seem too abnormal, as it was just a few desks, tables and cabinets in an office like manner. Then he noticed the long rows of bookshelves behind them. And the large piles of assorted items all over the place. And who could miss the pirate ship sailing through the air? This place must be pretty important to cram this much crap into it.

Nerissa sat Clay in a chair as Bigby gave them the same instruction Snow did about not opening the door for anyone but them. After mentioning he had to do some 'clean-up,' he quickly exited the office. Fortunately Bufkin was able to squeeze through Bigby's legs before he closed the door or he would have been locked out for a while.

That was half an hour ago. The only thing Clay had been up to since then was waiting for his bandaged wounds to heal while Bufkin and Nerissa quietly picked glass out of his skin. It was as fun as it sounded…

Clay stared down to the ground and nervously twiddled his fingers. Remembering all of that stuff made the nagging questions in his head even more so, along with the additional worrying for Taylor, Cheryl and Sally's safety. If they died because of him…

"Some night," Bufkin said trying to lighten the mood. "Lunatics, car crashes and mysteries galore, am I right?"

"Nerissa's glare shut him up for a moment. Clay figured he meant well, but he agreed that now wasn't the time.

"Well…at least you're all safe," Bufkin said meekly as he pulled out one more piece of glass. "There. That should be it."

Clay continued staring at the ground as he felt his scalp. He felt the tender areas where his wounds were still closing, but he couldn't feel anything else other than skin and hair. At least that was one problem out of a dozen he could scratch off.

"Did Doctor Swineheart say he would stop by?" Nerissa asked Bufkin.

"No, but I'm sure Miss White can convince him," he replied. "Johann should be patched up by now, so he'll have the time."

Nerissa nodded as she reached for Clay's hand, but he recoiled it. They touched him enough picking the glass out. He didn't feel like doing any more for a while.

"So…" Bufkin said to Clay. "You're a Fable?"

"…yeah," Clay replied not looking up.

"That's great. Which one are you?"

"…hell if I know."

An awkward pause followed before Bufkin looked to Nerissa. "Any ideas?"

She shook her head. Clay wasn't surprised. He could be anything from a prince to a troll for all they knew.

"Hm…gimme a minute," Bufkin said flying off the table and disappearing between some of the bookshelves.

Clay and Nerissa sat in silence for another minute. He could feel her gaze on him like a pair of headlights, but he couldn't muster the energy to do the same.

"Clay?" She finally asked worried.

He didn't reply.

"Honey?"

He stood up and walked over to one of the desks. A pernicious thought festered in his head right then. Why did she care what he was thinking? She did save him from 'not-Taylor,' but that was when she still thought he was a mundie. Isn't that what she thought he was an hour ago? That he was some defenseless, insignificant mundie? Snow thought so, so who can say Nerissa hadn't thought the same? Maybe even the whole time they dated too.

"Please…" Nerissa said standing up from her own chair. "Tell me what's on your mind. Brooding in silence won't help anything.

He leaned against the desk and sighed. Well, she wanted to know.

"When you thought I was still a mundie, how…how long did you plan to string me along?" He asked.

She didn't answer.

"A few more days? Weeks? Months?"

More silence. He closed his eyes and huffed. He had vented a lot tonight, especially to her. Still, he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't understand what she was thinking this whole time.

He paced to a different part of the room trying to keep his thoughts focused.

"What if I wasn't a Fable?" He continued. "What if I died in the crash? Or maybe some time before that? Would that have been a weight off your shoulders? Like all of the sudden, your mundie boy toy is out of the equation. Now he can't ruin your secret or drag you down anymore."

He could hear her walking now, but he couldn't tell which direction.

"That's it, isn't it?" He continued unable to stop his stream of conscious as his tears welled in his eyes. "I was going to be trouble either way. If tonight never happened, you'd still have to get rid of me. The fling would be over as soon as I found out."

Her footsteps were approaching him now. He crossed his arms and inched away as she stopped behind him.

"So how would you do it?" He said as his voice wavered. "Big messy break-up? A convenient lie? …killing me? No one would miss me. What's one stupid dead mundie to the safety of the community? Then you'd be free to find some immortal dick wad who couldn't shit all over your happy little life like I did. Right?"

That's when he heard her suppress a sob. Well…what did he expect her to do? He sighed and decided to turn to face her.

The look she gave him immediately burned in the back of his skull. Tears ran down her cheek, but they didn't dull the daggers in her eyes pointed right at him. One of her fists was shaking, possibly to stop her from punching him. Her body shook as they locked eyes with each other. It was surprising and kind of terrifying.

After a few more seconds, she unclenched her fist and wiped her eyes.

"Well?" She asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "Anything else you want to add?"

For the second time tonight, Clay felt like a heel. She hadn't answered his questions, but he couldn't find the passion to ask her again. He looked away, trying to avoid her face.

"No!" She shouted. "You got something to say, say it to my face!"

He closed his eyes and shuddered hearing that. She never shouted like this before. Yelling at Snow was one thing, but this felt more personal.

"You want to call me a whore too?" She said sharply. "You want to tell me how I played with your emotions because you're a stupid little mundie who makes shitty pizza and lives with two losers? Maybe you'll tell me how I planned to dump you into a river because I knew no one would care to look for you? Or maybe you'll tell me about how happy I'd be if you died because I wouldn't have to listen to your angry, asinine drivel ever again? You seem to know everything about me, so go on! Say it!"

Tears ran down Clay's face hearing her say that. An angry pause hung between them, with nothing but Bufkin distantly rummaging through books cutting the tension.

"…it hurts, doesn't it?" Nerissa then said. "Saying stupid shit you don't mean."

She walked back and sat on the desk facing away from him. Clay wiped his eyes and sat in a nearby chair. His body shook as he put a hand to his face. What the hell just happened? Did she mean any of that stuff she said? She wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true. He was just spewing out angry nonsense. Then again, how would she have known that?

He took a deep breath to stop from breaking down and slumped forward. He wasn't supposed to be here. Tonight should have ended sitting in front of a warm fire or relaxing in a soft bed. He didn't have those things anymore. That was a mundie world he wasn't a part of anymore.

"My whole life's a lie…" He said sorrowfully.

Nerissa didn't even budge.

Clay exhaled loudly to calm down. He was tired. He was afraid. He was confused. And now he was driving away the only person who had supported him this whole time. He wanted to say something. Take back that shit he said. Anything that wouldn't make him so pathetically desperate sounding.

"Hey!"

He turned to see Bufkin land on the desk nearby with a stack of books.

"Look what I found!" He said. "If we all take one, we could…"

It was then he noticed Clay and Nerissa sitting across the room looking unhappy.

"Oh…I'll, uh, I'll just start over here then," he said sitting down, opening a book and propping it up to keep himself out of their view.

Clay groaned. Getting out of his mental funk proved harder than he thought. Nerissa didn't deserve this. Her life was being just as ruined as his, what with not being able to go home and putting up with his cranky ass.

It was then that Clay noticed the books Bufkin had picked out. They looked like the old storybooks Mike used to read. He must be trying to find what Fable Clay was. Maybe helping him out and finding some answers would help Clay calm down. He started to stand up from his chair.

"Do you know how much of that is coming out of my pocket, sheriff?" A loud voiced boomed from out in the hall.

Clay sat back down as Bigby, Snow and some other guy entered the office.

"When you told me the car was a long-term investment," the other guy continued while adjusting his hood-rimmed classes. "You failed to mention that you literally meant I would have to keep paying for it!"

"You think we enjoyed wrecking it, Bluebeard?" Snow shot back.

"Sure looked like it! Do you know how much the repairs would cost?"

They were close enough now that Clay could get a better look at this Bluebeard guy, though the shine from his baldhead didn't help. He was a tall man, maybe even a bit taller than Bigby and just as built. He had clearly been sleeping before coming to the office, wearing a dress robe over some fancy pajamas to not look too casual. What really stood out though was the man's namesake. It looked like a tightly cropped black beard from a distance, but Clay swore he could see the faintest hint of blue in it.

"You're not hurting for cash," Bigby said to Bluebeard putting a potion vial from his pocket into a desk drawer. "And what else was Snow supposed to do? Golem charged right at her."

"Turn? Swerve out of the way? Anything but run into him!" Bluebeard replied. "And why the hell is Golem attacking you? Why is the Hook Man back in town?"

"If we knew why, we wouldn't waste time talking about it here."

"Well then you should do something about that."

"We already have," Snow said. "The car's out of sight now, we memory wiped the complex and we've been increasing the Woodlands' security spells."

"Are you sure you wiped everyne there?" Bluebeard pointed out. "What if you missed someone? Are we going to risk the community's safety on a hunch?"

"Right," Bigby replied sarcastically. "Because they're going to believe one person claiming to have seen a ghost and a werewolf fighting in a hallway."

"Don't mock me, sheriff!"

"I'm not! Aggie's aura kept everyone too afraid to leave their homes anyway, so that one person who could remember us wouldn't have proof anyway."

"We sent people to clean up the mess too," Snow added. "By morning, it'll be like we were never there."

"Typical," Bluebeard grumbled. "You have no qualms burning through my money to cover your reckless mistakes. When some bastard is stealing from my castle though, you won't even lift a finger to stop them."

"We already checked the castle twice and questioned everyone in the building."

"And yet things still go missing!"

"How do you know it isn't Hobbes doing that?" Bigby asked.

"Because he knows better than to do something so stupid!"

Clay and Nerissa did their best to stay out of the conversation. Whoever this Bluebeard was, Clay had quickly learned not to upset him. He wasn't really in a mood to talk anyway.

That was out of his hands though as Bluebeard turned and spotted him.

"Who the hell is he?" He barked gruffly.

"His name's Clay," Bigby said. "Don't worry. He's with us."

Bluebeard sized up Clay before shooting an accusing glance to Bigby. "You brought a mundy into the Woodlands?"

"He's a Fable," Snow said.

"How do you know?"

"Because I personally set those bones back into place," Bigby noted pointing to Clay's bandaged limbs.

Clay stood up in case Bigby needed to further his point. His limbs felt tender, but they definitely weren't broken anymore.

"They healed just as fast as yours or mine would," Bigby continued. "Only a Fable can do that."

"Well I've never seen him before," Bluebeard said crossing his arms and scoffing. "What Fable is he then?"

"We don't know," Bufkin joined in diverting attention from his current book. "I've been looking it up, but his face doesn't match our records."

"So a mystery Fable then?" Bluebeard said. "For all we know, he could be in cahoots with those thugs."

"Highly unlikely," Bigby retorted.

"Why's that?"

"Because he's the one they're after. They killed one of his friends and are holding the rest hostage."

"Did you see that happen? How do you know that wasn't a well-consructed lie to get your sympathy? For all we know, he set everything up to sneak into the Woodlands so his friends can attack me."

"They're not my friends," Clay replied sternly glaring at Bluebeard. All of this conclusion jumping was annoying him.

"At least you can speak for yourself," Bluebeard snidely said with a menacing smirk. "Fine. If you're a Fable, where have you been hiding the last several centuries?"

"I don't know. I didn't know I was a Fable before tonight."

"How? Haven't you ever broken a bone or had a serious injury before?"

"No."

"Liar!"

"That's enough," Snow said trying to break the argument up. "There are lives at stake here. Throwing accusations won't—"

"What?" Bluebeard interrupted. "A bunch of mundies? Let them die. It's their fault—"

"Shut your goddamn mouth!" Clay shouted refraining himself from doing something stupid. He wasn't going to let that asshole dismiss his friends like that.

"Or what?" Bluebeard taunted. "Even if you're not with those thugs, all of this is your fault in the first place. Your friends' blood and anyone else's hurt tonight is on your hands, nobody!"

"Stop it now!" Bigby growled.

Clay and Bluebeard continued to glare at each other until Bluebeard relented. It's amazing how a minute of talking could change Clay's attitude. Instead of staying out of Bluebeard's way, he just wanted to sock him now.

"What the hell makes him so special anyway?" Bluebeard asked Bigby.

"We don't know," Snow answered for him. "If Golem and Wendigo are working with them though, it must be big."

"Well then," Bluebeard said looking at something behind him. "Perhaps we should consult someone who can rub two brain cells together."

Clay noticed the area Bluebeard referred to. All he saw was some household items, dressers and a mirror grouped together. It didn't look like anyone was there.

"That was the plan before you got in the way," Bigby said walking past Bluebeard.

"Sure it was," Bluebeard mocked watching him.

As Bigby continued towards the mirror, Snow walked over to Clay.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Clay asked noting Bluebeard.

"Bluebeard," she replied.

"I got that. I mean, why do you put up with him?"

"He's a primary contributor to our community fund. We can't exactly say no," she said before looking at him curiously. "Are you ok?"

"Hm?"

"You seem…off."

Apparently Clay's poker face wasn't working right now. He tried to think of an excuse, but his eyes instinctively glanced to Nerissa regardless.

Snow looked over to see Nerissa standing near Bigby and Bluebeard around the mirror. She had been looking back to Snow and Clay, but quickly looked away as they noticed her.

"…something happen while we were out?" Snow asked him.

"Yeah…." He replied guiltily. He hoped she picked up the 'I don't want to talk about it now' hint.

"Well…if I can do anything for you, let me know," she said before walking over to Bufkin and checking his current book.

Clay sighed. He couldn't blame Nerissa if she thought he was a jackass right now. If he could take back the stupid stuff he said, he would. All he wanted was a 'why.' He could handle crazy shit like tonight happening or even what Nerissa's thinking behind their relationship was, but the lack of answers was what bothered him most.

He decided to stop the self-pitying for now and divert his attention back to Bigby at the mirror.

"Alright, let's see…" Bigby said. "Mirror mirror, blah blah blah table, we have a question about a Fable."

The mirror then shimmered with a soft green light as a ghostly face emerged from the midst of a green cloud. Clay was at his limit for amazement tonight, but he had to admit it looked cool.

"You'll have to use an actual rhyme one of these days," the mirror replied in an echoing voice.

"As long as it works, I'll keep using it."

"Very well. You have a question for me? You'll have to ask more specifically."

"How specifically?"

"You already know this game. All I ask for is a name."

Clay found the mirror's use of rhymes amusing, but he kept it to himself.

"Hey Snow," Bigby said turning to her and Bufkin. "You guys found anything useful?"

Neither of them replied.

"Well?" He repeated more concerned.

"We, uh, we might," Bufkin replied nervously. "It's just…"

"What?"

"You need to see for yourself," Snow said.

Bigby joined them at the desk, leaving the mirror unattended. Whatever was bugging Snow and Bufkin should have worried Clay too, but he had other things on his mind. The mirror just needed a name right? He could give it a few.

"Hey!" Bluebeard said as Clay walked to the mirror. "Stop that."

"I just have a couple questions," Clay replied not looking at him. "Or is that too dangerous for you?"

Bluebeard grunted crossing his arms.

Clay stood in front of the mirror, nervously trying to think of what he should say. "Um…hello mirror?"

"No need to waste time on formalities," the mirror replied. "What would you like to see?"

The idea of the mirror talking to him was unsettling, but he just pretended like it was him singing to his bathroom mirror…except it was a spooky reflection singing back to him in that fantasy too!

"I…I want to find Taylor Granger," he then asked.

"You're new to this, so I'll make things clear," the mirror replied. "You must make inquires through rhymes here."

"Why rhymes?"

"I don't make the rules. That's how it is."

Arguing with the mirror sounded obviously pointless, so he tried thinking of what rhymed with Granger.

"Uh…mirror mirror…my friend's in danger. Please show me Taylor Granger."

The mirror's face dove into the blackness around the green cloud and disappeared. It was only gone for a few seconds, but Clay already broke a nervous sweat anticipating the answer.

Just then, the mirror's face reappeared.

"I'm sorry, but Taylor cannot be shown," the mirror apologized. "Whether magic's to blame is simply unknown."

That wasn't the answer Clay wanted to hear…

"So you can't even tell me he's alive or not?" He asked slumping his shoulders in annoyance.

"Magic's no respecter to life or death. Whatever blocks your friend is beyond my power."

"Could the Wendigo be blocking you?"

"The stench of greed and lust is present, but a body housing two souls is hard to discern."

Shit…so it was just another mystery. Best-case scenario was that Taylor was under the Wendigo's possession and still alive. Worst-case was that they killed him or followed through on their cannibalism threat. Again, the lack of one answer of the other was what worried Clay most. He just had to stay optimistic.

Clay looked behind him to see Nerissa. She continued avoiding him, though she didn't seem to enjoy doing so. He felt like he should do something for her and thought of one thing that could be a start.

"Mirror mirror…uh, thanks for that…sight? Now please show me Cheryl Wright."

The face disappeared again, only this time something new appeared. It was a darkly lit room, bereft of any furniture or decoration. Cobwebs were strung along the ceiling and mold spots were growing on the floor.

What caught Clay's attention, however, were the two women huddled together in the center of the image. It was definitely Cheryl and Sally. He could recognize Cheryl's curly golden locks anywhere. They looked terrified out of their minds, but they were still alive.

"Cheryl…" Nerissa then said walking up next to Clay. "Sally…"

At least that got her talking again. To be fair, he was just as worried for them.

"Where are they?" He asked the mirror.

"I can only show what can be seen," the mirror's voice replied.

"So you can't just readjust the angle so we can figure out where it is?"

The image faded and the mirror's face reappeared.

"I'm not a movie camera," the mirror said. "I can only show what can be seen."

"Why?"

"Don't ask me to repeat myself."

Clay sighed frustrated. More dead-ends…well, at least they could remember what the room looked like. Nerissa nervously rubbed one of her arms.

"We'll find them," he said trying to reassure her.

He reached out to hold her hand, but she recoiled it away. So she was still upset at him. It was a minor gesture to be fair. Maybe he should just be more direct.

"I'm sorry…" He said. "Really…I am."

Before she could reply, they noticed Bigby and Snow hurriedly walking to the mirror. Something wasn't right. They seemed very concerned, possibly even scared.

"Bigby?" Nerissa asked.

"Move!" Bigby barked shooing them away. They quickly stepped back to not upset him more.

"What's going on?" Bluebeard asked seeing something that caught his attention.

"We don't know for sure, Bigby," Snow said continuing some previous conversation. "He could be someone else."

"You want to waste time guessing or do you want to prove what we already know?" Bigby retorted.

"How could it possibly be him anyway?" Snow asked glancing to Clay. He already had a bad feeling about this.

"This doesn't sound good," Bluebeard said curiously as he leaned against a table. Bufkin landed next to him, equally concerned about something.

"Feel free to leave then," Bigby replied.

"Well when you put it like that, then I have to stay."

Clay nervously rubbed his hands together as he watched Bigby look to the mirror.

"Now…" Bigby said. "Mirror mirror, something involving joy. Show me the Clay Boy."

The oxygen sucked out of the room as the mirror's face descended again. In those few fleeting moments of silence, the thought occurred to Clay to run. He glanced to the door, but his legs felt rooted to the floor. There wasn't a thing he could do.

Then an all too familiar image appeared in the mirror. It was their location in the Business Office, but with most of the people and other items out of focus. However, one person centered in the image was all too in focus.

It was him!

"Is there something wrong with your view?" The mirror asked. "It is in the room next to you."

Clay nervously broke his line of sight from the mirror to see everyone simultaneously turn towards him. What was that look in their eyes? Worry? Panic? Fear? All of the above? No one moved a muscle or took a breath staring at him. His nervous sweat spread to the back of his neck feeling their eyes on him.

"…wh…what?" He hesitantly decided to ask.

Then Bluebeard did something incredibly impulsive. He ran to a pile of items, pulled out a hatcher…and lunged forward to attack Clay!

In that split second between Bluebeard grabbing the hatched and turning to attack, Clay noticed Nerissa was directly in the man's path. He instinctively pushed her out of the way to safety, not even thinking about the pain he was going to feel.

"Stop!" Bigby shouted grabbing Bluebeard's arm. The hatchet's edge literally touched the tip of Clay's nose before stopping, causing him to shudder in fright.

"Let me go!" Bluebeard shouted throwing a punch at Bigby. The sheriff caught it though, proceeding to twist Bluebeard's arm and slam him against the table.

Clay stumbled back a few steps as the two continued to struggle. Bluebeard actually tried to kill him! He didn't even show a sign of hesitance! The thought to ran out the door screamed in Clay's head, but his shock continued to immobilize him.

"It's a monster!" Bluebeard shouted straining to free himself. "We need to kill it now!"

He freed his arm and shoved Bigby off. Without wasting a second, he threw the hatchet at Clay's head!

Clay wasn't immobilized anymore! He stepped out of the way, but not quickly enough as the hatchet's edge cut across his cheek before embedding into the door. He put a hand on the cut as Bigby stood between him and Bluebeard.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bluebeard barked. "Get out of the way and let me end this!"

"We're not going to do anything rash here!" Bigby growled back.

"Rash? There's nothing rash about killing that…that thing! Why the hell is it still alive?"

Still alive? Thing? Monster? So apparently Clay was a well know Fable but for all the wrong reasons.

"I don't know why," Bigby replied to Bluebeard. "But killing him won't stop those thugs."

"Then give him up! Kick him to the curb! As long as he's out of my building!"

"It's OUR building, asswipe. And I say if you want him, you have to go through me!"

Bluebeard clneched his fists and glanced around to see if anyone else would support him. Snow averted his gaze. Bufkin kept his mouth shut. Nerissa, still lying on the floor, continued to stare at Clay in shock.

Realizing the situation wasn't in his favor, Bluebeard loosened his fists.

"So that's how it'll be then?" He seethed. "Fine!"

He stormed towards the door, purposefully walking into Bigby to push him out of the way. Before he passed Clay though, he stopped and glared at him. Clay lowered his hand from his cut staring back.

"You're going to regret this, sheriff," Bluebeard said. "If you don't do something about this, then I will!"

With that threat left to linger, Bluebeard left and slammed the door behind him, causing the hatchet to clutter onto the ground.

Silence fell upon the Business Office as everyone waited for the tension to dissipate. Clay just couldn't win tonight. It wasn't enough that killer Fables wanted to hurt everyone he cared about. Now he had to deal with the fact that being the Clay Boy terrified the other Fables enough to want him dead. The dried blood on his fingers was proof enough. Some inauguration into the community that was…

He then remembered that Nerissa was still on the floor. She wasn't hurt, but he figured that might have unintentionally earned him another jackass point. Like he didn't have enough to worry about.

"…are you ok?" He asked reaching out a hand to her.

She stared at it for a moment, still not sure if she should accept it or not. Before he could retract the offer though, she grabbed it and let him help her up.

"Yeah…" She said still a bit stunned. "Thanks…"

She walked away and rubbed her shoulders nervously. Apparently this revelation shook her a lot more than it did for him. He still didn't know why.

"What are we going to do?" Snow then asked Bigby.

"…I don't know," Bigby sighed sitting in a chair to calm down.

"Why is being the Clay Boy so bad?" Clay decided to ask.

No one replied. He wasn't in the mood to accept 'hush hush' as an answer right now though.

"What did I do? Why did Bluebeard try to kill me?"

"Because you're a killer," Bufkin squeaked out.

That made Clay's heart sink. "…what?" He asked bewildered.

"Sorry," Bufkin said rubbing his paws nervously.

"Like…how many people?"

"A lot," Bigby answered as he thought something over.

Clay looked to Nerissa, who confirmed with those doe eyes of hers that it wasn't an exaggeration. He looked down to his hands shocked. Getting in fights with people was hard enough for him. How could he be a killer?

"We need to find Brandon," Bigby said to Snow.

"Who's Brandon?" Clay asked.

"Why?" Snow asked back completely ignoring Clay.

"Only one person would want to find Clay this badly," Bigby replied. "He might be able to help us find the King."

"What king?" Clay asked in futile.

"Do we still have Brandon's address and number?" Bigby continued.

"It should be in the records," Bufkin said flying off to the bookshelves.

Clay got the feeling they were about to push him off to the sidelines again to do this stuff. He had been sitting around long enough.

"I want to help," he said.

"Nuh uh," Bigby said shaking his head. "You're not coming."

"What? You want me to stay around here with Bluebeard on my ass?"

"He's all talk, Clay."

"Really?" Clay replied pointing to his cut.

"Coming with us would only make yourself and anyone around you a target for the Hook Man's gang."

"So what? You kicked their asses last time!"

"Barely."

"Whatever!"

"It's not 'whatever,'" Snow said. "Golem could have killed Bigby if he hadn't backed down. He wouldn't be able to fight them again so soon."

Clay groaned. So he was dangerous and completely useless right now.

"Guess I'm stuck here too then?" Nerissa asked.

"After how quickly they tracked Clay's place down, I'm sure they're already scouting yours too," Bigby replied.

"So…where would we stay then?"

Clay quietly stifled a yawn as Bigby loudly knocked on an apartment door. All of tonight's stress and revelations were taking their toll. A quick glance at Nerissa's glazed over look proved she was feeling the same.

"Gah! Coming!" A man called out from inside.

They could hear some commotion from what was likely the man getting dressed. They could have called ahead to let these people know they were coming, but they were still playing by Bigby's rules at the moment.

After fiddling with the locks, the man opened the door. He was a broadly built guy, with muscles stretching against his wrinkled shirt. He ran a hand through his long brown hair, trying to keep down the gnarly bed head he was experiencing. He probably would be pretty intimidating if he were more awake.

"What the hell do you-?" The man started to say before seeing who it was. "Oh…Bigby. What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," Bigby said slyly. "Hey Beast, remember when you said you'd do anything to help pay your debt?"

"Uh…yeah, but—"

"Good. You can start right now."

"Huh?"

"These two need a place to rest up and stay hidden for a few hours," Bigby said nodding to Clay and Nerissa.

"But—"

"No catch."

"Ok, but who—?"

"He's nobody and that's what you'll tell anyone who asks. Nobody's in your apartment and I didn't bring anyone. I'll be back later to pick them up and then you can talk to Snow about settling some of your debt."

Beast still seemed incredibly confused, but not enough to pass up Bigby's offer. After some hesitance, he moved out of the way and let Clay and Nerissa inside.

"Ok…" Beast said. "Don't take too long."

"No promises," Bigby replied before looking to Clay and Nerissa. "Get some sleep. If anything happens, call Snow immediately."

"Be careful," Nerissa said.

"Thanks..."

Beast closed the door as Bigby left, leaving the three of them alone in the living room. He turned to them, unsure what to do.

"Um…her, Nerissa," Beast said awkwardly trying to small talk.

"Sweetie?" A woman's voice called from the bedroom. "Who was that?"

She entered the living as she tied off the sash on a robe. Clay sort of deduced that this was Beauty if the other guy was Beast, but she definitely lived up to the name. Her long blonde hair, soft blue eyes and finely toned body was the envy of supermodels everywhere.

She clearly wasn't expecting company though, as she yelped seeing them. "What are they doing here?"

"It's ok, honey," Beast reassured. "They just need a place to hide for—"

Hide? What are they hiding from?"

Clay groaned. He got the feeling they weren't going to sleep for a while…

Clay's night just can't get much worse, can it? Let me know what you think in reviews and PM's. Thank you all once again for following and favoriting my story. It means a lot!