.

"I need something to believe in

'cause I don't believe in myself

And I'm sick and tired

of getting nowhere

Guess it'll all work out

And I don't mind anymore"

-Newton Faulkner

A few years later, nineteen-year-old Neal Cassidy was working on his not-so-well thought out plans to slip past his mother and Killian Jones and return to Storybrooke. The reason the plans weren't so well thought out was that he was stuck on step one: get a job and save money for the trip home.

The springtime was quickly dissolving into another scorching southern summer, and he'd been searching for a job since the past summer, after he'd graduated from high school. The search proved fruitless, however. Nobody wanted to hire an nineteen-year-old with no experience, or at least that's what the most recent interviewer told him before sending him back out to the curb.

He'd say it was safe to say that his hope was cracking. He'd been so sure just a few years ago that he'd make it back to Storybrooke and make things right. He knew that his father was probably still living in the same cell that's he'd been in for almost five years. His father. An innocent man, he now knew. But the folks back in Storybrooke didn't know that. They thought he'd killed his wife. Hell, they probably, at this point, assumed he'd killed his son too. Baelfire Gold had been missing all this time. Surely, they assumed he was dead. If not, they were doing a crap job of looking for him.

Neal stood outside the store he'd just left and shoved his hands into the pockets of his nicest pair of black pants. He turned his head to look both ways down the city's main street, debating on any other possibilities that he hadn't already ruled out for job opportunities. Deciding he'd had enough of business owners telling him he needed experience to get experience, he finally turned on his heel and made his way down the street, back towards his house.

He'd just rounded the last corner approaching home, however, when he heard his name being called in a familiar British accent.

"Neal!"

Neal turned and saw Robin jogging towards him. To Neal's surprise, his friend had one of the widest grins he'd ever seen on his face. Now, Robin wasn't the kind of guy to joke around much. He was always very straight forward with his emotions; if he was smiling, it was for a damn good reason. After having been friends with Robin for over four years now, Neal felt like he knew him as well as he'd known any of his friends back in Storybrooke.

He hadn't, however, told Robin anything about the circumstances surrounding his leaving Storybrooke.

But he'd get to that later.

Right now, Robin was jogging towards him with an enthusiasm that Neal had only seen from his friend twice in the time that he'd known him. The first was when they'd graduated high school this past year. The other, and probably the more important of the two, was when Regina Mills came into the picture. Regina was a girl who'd moved to Jacksonville from her home town in Georgia at the beginning of their senior year. She was the kind of girl that made boys stop and stare when she'd walk down the halls at school. Shortly after graduation, Robin had finally worked up the nerve and started talking to Regina, who now worked at the local diner, and they were becoming increasingly more close. Neal wanted them to get it over with already and declare their undying love for each other, but hey, who was he to play matchmaker. He hadn't even thought twice about dating since leaving Emma Swan behind.

So to see this sort of unabashed enthusiasm from Robin now had Neal perplexed. Whatever he had to tell Neal, it had to be good.

"You'll never believe what just happened." Robin said after catching up with his friend.

"I might, if you tell me." Neal said swiftly, trying to get Robin to spill without all the guessing games.

"I just got off the phone with Jack Scarlet."

Jack Scarlet and his family ran something they called Scarlet Summer. Scarlet Summer was basically a summer-long carnival held on a section of beach in Surf City, thirty miles south of Jacksonville. The park had started out as a small, local party lasting for just a week each summer. When people from other surrounding cities had gotten wind of it, it had grown quickly. Now, the Scarlet family dedicated the entire summer to running the park, and they'd even been able to add a few permanent rides to the carnival mix, such as a large ferris wheel that decorated the horizon view.

"Yeah, so?" Neal wished he could just shake the excitement out of Robin. Maybe then he'd know what in the world he was getting at.

"So, Scarlet Summer is going to be busier than ever this year and Jack's looking for extra hands to help out. And well, I may have volunteered us. You and I, my dear friend, are officially employed for the summer." Robin finished by grabbing Neal's shoulder, as if squeezing his arm would somehow transfer Robin's excitement into him.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes! I'll be helping Will run the rides, and I told Jack about how handy your carpentry skills were, and he wants you to help with inspecting all the rides and making any repairs necessary. He'll want to talk to you more personally, of course, but I told him you'd do it. I hope you don't mind."

Will, by the way, was Jack's son, who was the same age as Neal and Robin. They'd gone to different schools, but Neal had met him on several occasions. He was more of a friendly acquaintance than a "friend", but at least Neal and Will didn't hate each other or anything like that… He figured that would've made for a lousy summer.

"Of course I don't mind, man." Neal's mind was racing at this point. Surf City was about thirty miles south of where he lived; there was no way he could get down there by himself because he didn't have a car. "But, how are we going to get there every day?" The question only seemed to make Robin's smile even wider, and Neal was genuinely confused by that.

"That's the best part. My Uncle Tuck's letting us live in the beach house that he normally rents out to tourists. So we get to spend the whole summer at Surf City."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It turned out that getting his mother and Killian to let him spend the summer almost thirty miles away from their home was easier than he'd anticipated. Killian would no doubt be down there on an un-called-for basis, as if Neal would try running away by going further away from Storybrooke. But, he supposed he could deal with the excessive watch that he was under if it meant having a job for the summer and saving money for his return.

The trip down to Surf City went about as smoothly as he would have expected it to. Killian searched his duffle bag before he tossed it in the backseat of the yellow bug that Robin had received as a graduation gift from his parents. He slid into the passenger's seat and threw his hand out the window in a weak wave as Robin pulled out onto the road. He could practically feel Killian's eyes glaring holes into the back of his head the entire trip. When they arrived, Neal found that the area wasn't that different at all from Jacksonville, despite one being more inland than the other. One difference Neal was certainly going to enjoy was the beach. The city of Jacksonville required a bit of a drive if you wanted to go to the ocean; even the bay behind Neal's own house paled in comparison to the great Atlantic itself. Tuck's beach house turned out to be not all that different from Neal's house. It had the same architectural style, almost the same layout, and it sat about as far away from the beach. The main difference was that Tuck's house was in great shape. The paint was somewhat fresh and there wasn't a rotten board of wood in sight. Tuck probably made good money off of renting the house out to tourists in the summer. Neal considered himself very lucky that he and Robin were living here rent-free.

Upon entering the house, Neal and Robin found the kitchen reasonably stocked; Tuck must have bought some basic groceries for them. The bathroom held a closet full of clean towels and basic toiletries. The bedrooms all had fresh sheets. Tuck hadn't cut any corners for his nephew.

Later that same day, the two young men took a walk down the beach to where the preparation for Scarlet Summer was well under way. They walked past men building rows of temporary wooden booths, where in just a few short weeks, tourists and locals alike would be tossing baseballs at milk bottles, shooting basketballs, fishing for plastic goldfish, and even trying their hand at archery. Over the years, the number of possibilities had multiplied for the carnival. Neal couldn't wait to see what all they had to offer this year.

They found Will Scarlet organizing supplies in what looked to be a food tent. As they approached him, Will looked up from the box of plastic utensils he was sifting through. He greeted them with a friendly smile and set the box aside to shake each of their hands. "Glad you guys could help us out this year." His thick English accent stood out among the southern voices milling around them. Like Robin, he'd moved here when he was young.

They exchanged pleasantries before Will directed Robin to follow him so that he could show him how to operate a few of the rides. Neal was told to find Jack by the ferris wheel so that he could start to learn the mechanics involved with the rides and how to maintain and repair each of them, the ferris wheel being the main one.

Everything seemed to be working out. If working down here turned out to be as pleasant as this first day, Neal just might be able to ignore Killian Jones and his careful watch on the boy who could never return home.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ferris wheels were a complex labyrinth of crossbars, cables, brakes, braces, rings, axles, gears, and pins, among an abundance of other bits and pieces. Everything needed checked over regularly for bends or cracks. Cables needed tightened. The shaft bearings and pivoting points needed oiled. Belts and pins needed replaced. The wood needed checked for rot, and replaced if any was found. Gears needed cleaning. Nuts and bolts needed tightened. The other rides at the carnival followed much the same rules.

And so that's what Neal did, day in and day out. He became pretty handy with a tool box. The lessons that he'd received in Marco's garage came back to him as if not a day had passed since he'd been there. But most of all, he really, honestly enjoyed it. It was a job that he truly needed, but it also became one that he enjoyed.

The only problem with the job was that it gave him far too much time to think.

Working alone, meticulously keeping the carnival rides in perfect shape, he often found his thoughts drifting. Sometimes he thought about simple things, like playing frisbee with Robin on the beach. Those days were easy. Those were the days he looked forward to.

Most days, however, his thoughts drifted to less than enjoyable subjects. His mother's lies. Killian's threats. The injustice with which he'd left his father, paying for a crime he did not commit.

Neal had always had a good relationship with his father. They'd had their fair share of disagreements. Robert had gotten mad at him a few times, but not much. Even when he'd deserved much worse, he'd never received it from his father. His dad never went out, got drunk, or beat him. For that, he was entirely thankful. He'd seen the relationships between some of his classmates and their fathers. Even Robin didn't have all that great of a relationship with his parents. The worst state Neal had ever seen his father in was where it concerned Milah. As the relationship between his parents deteriorated, he'd seen Milah bring out the worst in Robert. Luckily, that'd never translated to how Neal was treated. But it didn't mean he didn't hear them. It didn't mean he didn't sit up at night, just a scared little boy whose world centered on avoiding the frayed state his parents had found themselves in.

Robert was always the man Neal thought he'd want to grow up to be like, and now he was unfairly wasting away the years in a jail cell. There were many nights when that thought alone drove Neal to jump up out of bed and make for the door, flat determined to reveal the truth to the authorities and free his father. Every single time, he'd stop himself, hand on the doorknob, and think about Killian Jones. He'd seen the rifle that was hidden in the hall closet. He knew what his future looked like if he tried to run away.

Neal vividly remembered the night he'd left Storybrooke, the night that Baelfire Gold had slipped away and never come back. He remembered Jones telling them that they were going south, and that they'd all have to form new identities. At the time, it had all seemed like a dream, like something you'd read in a book. He wasn't able to form many coherent thoughts while it was happening, but he remembered knowing that what was happening was wrong. But not the kind of wrong that he was familiar with, like cheating on a test or skipping school. That night had been something different entirely. It had all happened so fast that he hadn't had time to sort it all out in his head. Unfortunately, this job at the summer carnival did just the opposite. Now his head ran through every single detail of everything that ever went wrong in his life, and he was incapable of stopping it. He wished he knew then what he knew now.

Neal looked up from where he was replacing a wooden railing on the side of the loading dock of the ferris wheel. He set his tools down and grabbed his bottle of water, figuring a short break from working in the hot southern sun wouldn't hurt. He wiped the sweat off of his brow with the sleeve of his grey v-neck T-shirt and looked around. He hadn't seen Jones yet today, but that didn't mean that he wasn't here. Despite being thirty miles south of his house, Neal couldn't escape the watchful eye of the man who had flipped his life around. Instead, he caught a glimpse of light blonde hair in the crowd, and he thought of Emma. He wondered about her often. He wondered if she'd ever gotten the letter he'd risked a lot to send to her. And if she had, had she laughed at his naive idea that he was in love with her? He'd known her for such a short time, and they were both so young… But even now, as a young a adult, he considered himself to be in love with her. Like he'd told her in the letter, young love was reckless. But he still didn't give a damn.

And now, he was pretty sure he was going insane. Because now, that head of golden hair was attached to a girl, and as the crowd moved to give him a better view of her, he could have sworn there was a familiarity in the way she stood with one foot resting, leaning on her elbows on the counter of the concession stand. And there was something familiar about the smile she threw Will as she took a bad of carnival's greasy fried food from him. And there was something familiar about…

No. Damn it, Neal. You can't do this to yourself, he thought. Let's do the rational thing here and forget it, because there's no way in hell that's who you think it is.

But as he watched her walk away, down the beach, he had to know for sure. So, all rational thoughts be damned, he followed her. He managed to catch up to her fairly easily, the crowd on the beach both aiding in slowing her down and in keeping him hidden. At this point, Neal was fairly certain that he was indeed going insane. But that all changed quickly, as the blonde turned. She threw a glance around her surroundings, seeming to be admiring the ocean view, looking entirely content with her surroundings. She quickly turned back around and headed for one of the beach houses, but not before Neal saw the single silver charm adorning her neck. The swan pendant.

Emma.

Neal didn't even stop to think as he ran back to where he'd been working under the ferris wheel. He grabbed his notepad out of his tool box and flipped through the endless notes about ride mechanics until he found a blank page. He reached back into the box and produced a black pen. He pulled the cap off of the pen with his teeth, and that's where it remained while he wrote out a short note. All in one motion, he ripped the single page from his notebook and recapped the pen, dropping both items back into the toolbox without much thought for where they landed.

As casually as he could muster while his mind was moving a mile a minute, he walked back down the beach to the house he'd seen who he was now sure was his friend disappear into. He figured that walking right up and leaving the note on the front door would draw too much attention and probably end with someone, even Emma, just coming out of the house. So, he left the note on the path leading up to the house, placing a baseball-sized rock on top of it to keep it in place. As quickly as he'd come, he disappeared back down the path and down the beach, returning to his post at the ferris wheel. If that note did its job, he had better make sure he was done with work on time.

But it was so hard to focus on his job when all he could think about was the gorgeous young woman Emma Swan had grown to be.

At least those thoughts were more pleasant than the usual ones.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

A/N: Sorry for the long wait in between chapters! As always, please leave a review and let me know what you're thinking.