( Just to let you all know, I was a very emotional person writing this, considering I started this next chapter as soon as I finished reading The Art of Being Extraordinary, WHICH IS A WONDERFUL FANFIC YOU NEED TO READ IT BUT ITS SO HEARTBREAKING JUST TO WARN YOUR POOR HEARTS. So if this chapter seems rushed, or anything different I blame my tears. Also! School is starting in just a few days for me, so chapters may not be as frequent! But I promise, I WILL update! ENJOY! )
"Why'd you bring me here?"
"Just a part of the plan."
"What plan?" My curiosity sprung from the depths of my mind, and sprouted to the words I spoke. I couldn't really place my finger on why I always trusted such random strangers all the time - I blamed my youth and my innocent mind. Others would say I was just a kid looking for someone to talk to, someone to keep me company in such a time like this. Maybe they were right.
I had gotten no response to the lean and top hat wearing man. He sat in silence, his blue eyes darting around the elementary school playground like a hawk on a hunt. I had never met someone so odd, yet collected. His hands were folded in his lap, and all of his attention was drawn to the piled brick building that held hundreds of kids at a time; but right now, half of those children were spending their evening outside on the recreation ground.
"..How's August?" My brow ascended halfway up my forehead, at the sudden question. How many surprises did one guy, have? Too many, I'll tell you. I had just met him last night, and the first thing I see in the morning is a flickering bulb above my head, and the reason for that bulb - take a guess. A nosy dark haired man, with a trigger happy finger that found my light switch. God knows how he got into the house, but it was no surprise. August had gotten in almost, too easily; and even after over a month, I still never watched him walk through the front door. 'You ready, kid?' Jefferson said, my dozing ears barely accumulated the words that he spoke. I sat up, and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, they still couldn't reach the floor. I must of been sleep walking, because I still couldn't recall why I had followed him here in the first place.
"..You know August?" I questioned, even if it was an obvious answer, I still wanted conformation. He snapped his neck to look down on my small figure.
"Of course, he's the one who escaped the Queen's curse," he emphasized 'queen', obviously making it sound more dramatic, like he did with everything, "oh - and Emma, too." He shrugged, and his gaze wandered once more - like the subject and the mention of the woman, was just something normalized and unpremeditated.
"You know Emma, too?" I sighed, my head dropping a mere inch in exaggeration, and shot him a look that said, 'you've got to be kidding me.' Everyone knew her, and I was the ugly duckling in the bunch that hid in the shadows clueless to what was around him. The first time I had ever spoken to the blonde, was last night. At first glance - or, shall I say, first.. hear? She didn't sound anything like a professional doctor that you'd go and see for a surgery or something that needed immediate medical attention, like on the shows. Yeah, yeah - go ahead and yell at me for comparing real life to TV show expectations, but that's what I was thinking. She was calm, and collected - but liked to have her fun. She was kinda like me, in a sort; her goofiness, and childlike giggles made my heart more settled and tranquil about the situation on the other end. I already knew some of her story. She was the almost perfect and porcelain like child, of Snow White and Prince Charming. But as a curse was casted by.. the Evil Queen, her parents sent her through a portal to the real world. She was important, and was demanded to be kept alive and safe - but I never knew for what. August would never tell me. All I knew was that I had to be the diversion, the one to occupy everyone's minds with a book full of fairy tales - and try to spark their inner belief with just a few words to save a town.
"Stories spread quicker than you'd think back where I'm from, Henry." He exhaled, letting out a prolonged breath that he seemed to be storing for a while. His jittery palms, and the constant lip tugging with his teeth gave a sure sign that he was nervous about something. And I had no idea what that 'something' was. It couldn't have been me, he was far too cocky in his first impression to be anxious around me; in fact, nobody was ever really nervous around me. He must of felt my preying eyes on him, or maybe his vision was better than I thought it was - because he immediately balled his fists to stop the shaking, and changed the subject completely. "So, tell me kid.. what's it like being raised by the Evil Queen herself?" Maybe he just asked it to push my buttons, and get some sort of exciting reaction out of me to enliven the dull air between us. Whatever his deranged reasoning, it pulled at my strings and triggered some sort of anger within me. Our eyes met at the same time, my gaping glare giving him at least some form of a hint that I was outraged with his comment.
I hadn't really come to terms with my mother, and her former identity. I didn't see her as some big bad Evil Queen that tortured and killed innocent people, even if sometimes her anger overtook her a little too much - I chose to see the good. Because how could a child who almost had no chance at life, hate the one person who returned that chance? I was completely incapable to see past those layers and smiles she wore, and actually catch a glimpse of some bedazzled monarch who was entirely malicious.
Jefferson rose his palms in the air, "Sorry.. just a bit curious myself." As quickly as his eyes glanced to mine, they darted and locked wholly onto the play set once more. I had no clue what he was truly staring at, because there was no way his boggled mind would be so attached to some plastic slide and chained swing. I tried to follow his gaze, and pinpoint exactly where his pupils landed - but it was harder than it sounded in my head. The children began to group up, heading back into the large building to learn some more shapes and maybe if they were lucky - the color wheel. But his gaze stayed, and it lingered there for even longer.
The only child left, was a girl with long golden hair. She trotted over to a lone flower that sprung high from the ground, as it had obviously caught her attention. She bent over, wrapping her frail palm around the long stem - prying it from it's roots, and lifting its petals below her nose. She made it mid-inhale, before another child shouted, 'Paige!' Her neck snapped to glance back at her friend, blonde hair flying over her shoulder - and the blossom still gripped tightly in her fist.
Wait, I knew her. She was Paige, the shy girl who always did the best in the class and outdid every assignment she was given. Her creativity was something teachers loved about her, and everyone was jealous of her potential. And when I say everyone, I mean - everyone.
"Can I tell you a secret, Henry?" His resonant tone struck like a bell, and wrenched me from my internal narration.
My brow inched itself together, "..Sure.." I hauled the word out for longer than I should have, unsure as if I wanted to learn his mysterious secret or not. Nevertheless, whatever it was - it was going to be either interesting, or could chase off a whole schoolyard of children.
He didn't answer straight away, as if he wasn't too exhilarated about spilling his surreptitious secrets, either. So I sat, and waited patiently for words to flow from his lips.
"Did you know.." he trailed off, tapping his thigh with his index finger. He paused, like he was trying to think of whatever he was supposed to be telling me. I rose my brow, and glanced around in the awkward silence that overtook the conversation in less than a second.
"Tell me wh-"
"That this town is full of magic."
Well, I didn't see that one coming... surprisingly. After spending weeks on end with August, the man who spoke his mind on whatever, whenever - you'd think I'd know everything in the book. And not the book with fairy tale characters and happy endings; the one where I would have every unexpected sentence that flowed out of someones mouth written in perfect cursive, and have their own chapter on when and where to expect them.
My brow rose faster than a high speed chase, "Magic?" I gave him the same look as earlier, questioning where his sanity had gone, if he even had any in the the first place. Funny how I believed that a whole town was made up of fairy tale characters, but I couldn't even believe this. Magic... it was too good to be true. It was something in almost every fantasy novel; hint the word... fantasy. Who knew, apparently I was the 'truest believer' to Jefferson. Whatever that was.
He nodded, giving me an occasional glance, "..What? You don't believe?" His tone rose, as if he was offended by my silence and awe. "C'mon, don't tell me that a kid like you, doesn't think even the slightest bit that magic can exist." His eyes peered down at me, and I glared up at him. I wasn't going to answer, because no matter what I said he would've continued talking and going his own way with the conversation anyway. But this time, it was hush. No words, no giggles, just silence that began to sweep between us.
I couldn't stand silence.
"What does magic have to do with making people believe in fairy tales?" My sarcasm was peaking through my curtain of innocence. I chose to ignore his statement before, and take my own turn on the conversation. But of course, no matter how hard I tried to catch him off guard with my own proclamations - he was always ready to fire something back.
"You wanted to make people believe, didn't yah?" He shifted in his seat, the old bench creaking under both of our weight. He had his arms gently wrapped around his torso, as if he was hugging himself and keeping away all harm; surprisingly he didn't have his overly exaggerated hat in his palms. Instead, he had set it at his side - resting it softly in the patch of grass that surrounded under and around the wooden bench. His hat was like my book, it was always by his side - just in case. He leaned towards me, like he was about to whisper a forbidden secret in my ear - but instead, he spoke loud enough for someone to hear his 'secret' from twenty feet away.
"Magic is believing, Henry."
Snacks were some form of weakness for me; considering I had dragged a recovering and fatigued Regina a floor down, just so I could get my grimy hands on a vending machine. I wouldn't have brought her on any other occasion, but I really wanted to tell her about Henry and I's exchange on the phone last night. Yeah, yeah - I could've waited and got the snacks on my own, but my patience was non-existent. Hell, I was Emma Swan - and Emma Swan needed her snacks, no matter what the time. And just so happens, this specific time landed right when I did my occasional check up on Regina. And when I say 'occasional' I mean, daily.. hourly. Whatever or however you wanted to put it - it was around then. When I exclaimed the little adventure I wanted to take, she sort of just sat there and gave me an 'are you serious' look. But I think she secretly enjoyed the fact that she was up and on her feet again and so quickly for her situation.
It had only been a matter of hours after the surgery, well - not even a full day had passed. But her foot was already looking healthier and better by the second. Either it already felt well, or she was hiding the fact that she was experiencing literal hell behind her glistening eyes that told me otherwise. I should've expected that anyway, I mean - she was Regina. The woman who held her head high no matter what the situation, and kept her foot on the ground through storms and tornadoes. She was practically this super human who appeared in comic books, becoming this drawing of colors and shapes that so many kids idolized. And her weakness was emotion, and letting people see through her walls that she built so high to hide them. I guess that made me the super villain, because to this day I've been the only person in the entire hospital that those walls came down to. Wait, does that make me good or bad?
I had gotten too deep and submerged into my thoughts, that I shrugged in reply to my own question. I immediately realized the mistake I had made as I heard a muffled chuckle and Regina's soothing voice surface itself and echo down the empty hall.
"What are you shrugging at, Swan?" I froze, and my cheeks went hot - as I realized I had been dwelling on my thoughts and gotten caught... again. A superpower Regina had to go with her super human abilities, was seeing through other people as well. Funny, considering that was her weakness after all. Sometimes the special things we can do, can kill us furthermore - can't they?
I glared at the thick glass that separated me and the delectable goodies in the machine. Regina and I's appearance reflecting in the glassware - both completely opposite attire and aspects. Regina was wearing a loose fitting pair of sweatpants, and a t shirt that had the words 'happy camper' alluringly designed on the front of the grey shirt. I knew the whole reasoning behind the top, and the only reason why I do is because I had asked early on. She didn't come off as some kind of camping machine, that enjoyed to sleep in a melting hot tent and be surrounded by pesky bugs all day. And I was right. She only owned the shirt because, when Henry was a bit younger, he was a boy scout. Now that's an adorable image; my mind conjured up another picture, one with a small boy with dark brown hair like his mothers that stuck out at all places from underneath a tight fitting hat. His dark locks curling up and being tussled around after removing the hat. There was badges galore, and a wide smile as he trekked through the woods like a mountain climber. I had never even met the child, but I was already daydreaming on what he looked like, and how he acted. And in my mind, he acted a lot like Regina - which wasn't a bad thing at all. Anyway, when little Henry was a boy scout, his troop decided to take a camping trip and explore the outdoors for the first time together. But since there was only one Scout Leader, and almost a dozen little and hyperactive children - chaperones were needed. Regina was basically volunteered by the group of parents that didn't want to join their wailing children in balmy tents. She was exhausted, irritated and needed to get work done - but she did it for Henry. And after days of dealing with sweaty and fidgety children, her trophy was a complimentary t-shirt that she wore every once in a while to bed.
That was the shirt. The remembrance token I knew she held dearly, and looked quite comfortable if I do say so myself. She needed all the comfort she could get, taking into account that she was forced onto crutches to keep all the weight possible off of her foot - and at the same time, push around a metal wheeled pole that held her IV. But I did that part for her, and had her lean against the opposite wall from the vending machine. I was already in trouble for getting her ass out of that bed, and even daring her to walk already - so I wanted to lessen my punishment by giving her at least some rest on our adventure. A wall wasn't much, but it was something. And by the resting features and relaxed muscles in her arms - I could tell that it worked like a charm for the time being.
I, on the other hand, wore my scrubs. Today I was on the job, and doing what I did best: save people's lives. But ever since Regina was reeled through those doors, nothing exciting ever happened anymore. No more horrid accidents that needed quick attention, or emergencies that I needed to schedule appropriately to help as many people as possible. We were lucky now a days, to get a kid with a nose bleed. My uncomfortable and itchy scrubs were a subtle red, that I believe matched my personnel wholly. I'd like to think Regina thought so as well.
"Just.. thinking, that's all." I chuckled, shaking my head at my ridiculous mind that always tended to wander in the most extreme of moments. I continued to watch our reflections in the glass, waiting for the machine to finally piece together its instructions and give me my damn Cheetos.
Regina tilted her head slightly, her dark hair barely skimming her collar bones. I saw that thing she did with her eyes when she was curious, and squinted them just for a moment, "Thinking about..?" Her brow rose, and I knew that mean't that I wasn't getting out of this situation without her saying so. Classic Regina, I guess.
I took this moment, as the perfect time to bring up the kid. So I took the chance, and bashfully bowed my head and turned to face her relaxed frame, "So uh.." I mumbled, sticking my cold palms into my small pockets.
Regina practically rolled her eyes, and took my trailing off as a horrid sign, "What happened this time, Emma-"
"Nothing," I said, abruptly. I knew that I was a doctor, and doctors had to give some bad news some times - but this.. I didn't count this as bad news to me, or her.
"So what is it, then?" She sounded a bit agitated, which was expected. From anesthesia, to medications and barely any sleep - she must of been exhausted and straight up irritable.
I glanced to the polished floors, and traced circles with the tip of my shoe like a child receiving a lecture, "..Henry called last night." As those words passed by my lips, immediate permissive relaxation washed over her features like a tidal wave, and you could just feel her heart slowing to a gentle and warming beat. "And.. since you were obviously.. passed out," I sighed, recollecting the events from the night before, "he decided, that.. he wanted to talk to me." Those last few words stuttered out across my tongue, but soon reached the surface of free air.
I looked up to find an extremely calm Regina, with the same heartwarming expression and tranquil state as before. Maybe she didn't hear me, or maybe she was still thinking about her young son back at home - just the mention of his name dragging her into a world of memories and yearning. I must of glared too long, trying to uncover some form of emotion or response - because at some point in those few moments she escaped her daze and noticed my lingering emerald eyes.
"Are you expecting a reaction, Ms. Swan?" She rose her brow, and shifted a bit in her uncomfortable standing position. I almost instinctively rolled my eyes at my nickname she loved to use, but held it back - while also incidentally keeping more words to flow from my mouth. "C'mon Emma, just because I come off as some hard ass doesn't mean I always am one." A smile danced upon her lips - and like a disease, one spread upon mine as well. We shared a moment of giggles, before Regina dived straightforwardly into the topic, "So, how did he like you, doc?" She leaned forward, lifting her resting body from the wall and putting all of her weight back onto her crutches.
I tried to suppress a grin, but failed miserably, "I think he liked me.." I cowered like a child and a grin washed over my face. Was I blushing? Dammit, Emma.
"You think..?" The corner of Regina's lip curled up into a smirk; she was obviously trying to tease me about the situation.
My sheepish gestures vanished, as I recollected myself and became the confident and witty woman I was. "Well, I mean.. we hit it off quiet nicely," I obtained my own taunting smirk, swaying on my feet at the artless conversation.
"Did you now?" Her smile had dragged me further into the discussion, like a magnetic pull I couldn't escape.
I nodded, and pulled my palm out of my cozy pocket - lifting a finger in the air, "And.. he also mentioned something about.. a Scooby-Doo poster?" Regina rolled her eyes, stifling a chuckle, "Now, how do you explain that?" I rose a brow, a humorous expression surging over my face.
She shook her head, and glanced to her lifted foot, "Yet, another horrid children's show I had to withstand when Henry was a baby." We shared another giggle fit, my shoulders heaving up and down in laughter.
"Ah, I see. Well, besides the awkward 'never spoke to you before' silences, I'd say it went pretty well," I flashed a smile.
"Is that so?"
"Are you jealous, yet?"
"Is that what this is?" If I hadn't of been scanning the room in skittishness, I would've almost swore she winked at me with those twinkling eyes. But I had no proof other than a sketchy gesture, and my own mind making assumptions.
"Henry told me I'd have to fight off some evil sorceress that was crazed with jealousy," there was a gentle clunk, and I glanced to find that the machine finally dropped the cheesy snacks I paid for centuries ago, "look's like you proved him wrong," I chortled, snatching the plastic bag of Cheetos from the contraption, and turning back to Regina.
"It seems I did," she tilted her head, glimpsing at the delectable, "now that Miss Swan has her wholesome and obviously nutritious bag of Cheetos, may we take the adventure back up to my room?" She begged like a child, swaying on her crutches.
"Wimping out on me already, Gina?" I teased her playfully, and strolled over to her side, grasping my palm around her IV pole - ready to roll her majesty back to her rugged mattress.
"Forgive me, if my body feels like it's about to topple over in exhaustion, just because I was dragged down here so you could get your hands on a flimsy bag of compressed wheat, covered in cheese powder." She shrugged, and began to carry herself slowly around me. For only having the crutches less than a day, she was a pro. And when I say pro, I mean semi-intermediate. I chose to ignore her sarcastic remark, and enjoy the amusement it gave me instead. Her overly exaggerated and detailed sightings always seemed to hit my funny bone, and send me to the floor, curled up in pain from laughing so hard. After what seemed like hours of ridiculous laughter, I would always sit up and find Regina trying to sneakily wipe away the tears from her giggles, that she tried so desperately to hide and keep her serious mayor - like role. I rolled my eyes with a corny grin, and commenced into striding by Regina's side.
No matter what expression, or words that were spoke - I still think she secretly enjoyed the expedition for cheese covered wheat. Hell, who didn't love Cheetos?
"August!" My fist pounded the rickety door, the structure trembling on it's hinges.
There was no response.
"August, it's Henry!" I grumbled, knowing perfectly well that he wouldn't dare open the door to someone he was trying to avoid. It had been a full day since he last spoke to me, and hid away into his cave of an apartment. He wasn't himself, and it had something to do with Mr. Gold. It didn't surprise me, though. was the scariest and most intimidating man in the town, and had this resilient control over everyone. Sometimes, even my mother. I always had an uneasy feeling in my stomach when his presence passed mine, or his coal eyes met my own. He was odd, and just had something about him. Then again, away from the fact that I knew he was Rumpelstiltskin - he still scared me.
There was the slightest shuffle, "..Not now, kid." I chose to ignore the fact that he continued to call me 'kid' like everyone else in this town, instead of snapping back at them, that I did in fact have a name.
I rolled my eyes, impatiently stomping my foot on the ground like a toddler, "You can't hide from me forever, August." I retaliated, vexation beginning to grow inside of me like roots. I waited, my hot breath hitting the wooden door that was a mere two inches away from the tip of my nose. It was silent, no more moving, no more shuffling of clothing or the deep inhale of a breath. I lifted my balled fist, ready to pummel through the lumber surface.
"You're not the one I'm hiding from, Henry."
My fist stopped in mid air before I could make any contact, and screech out his name once more. Relief exerted from my lungs, and I felt my muscles relax for the first time in a day. But as quickly as I slackened, I became immediately perplexed by his statement.
"Then who are you hiding from?" My brow arched upwards, and halted for any feedback. My mind dawned on the assertion, and I knew straightaway what the silence meant for him. "Is it Gold?" My voice lowered from the sharp snaps, to a calming and comforting tone. I wanted to yell at him, and get my point across - but shouting through a door wouldn't do much to satisfy. So I resorted to a reassuring tone, hoping he would show his face and give me some form of information that could help me relax from all of this drama. I was nine years old, and already dealing with adults problems, like a lawyer or something. Going from door to door to find a missing person, and basically setting up interviews with random strangers that knock on my front door. I might as well make my own business cards to hand out.
I shifted on my strained legs, debating whether or not to lean against the closed door and wait until he finally built up to courage to open it. But I kept that thought in my mind, and stood there in the awkward silence before I eventually began to hear the creaks of the floorboards from behind the wooden entrance. My breath hitched in my throat, and my eyes darted at and around the timber frame waiting for the familiar face to appear.
The shiny metallic doorknob jiggled and twisted, soon pulling backwards to reveal a unshaven man who didn't take the time to put a shirt on. I held back the urge to shield my eyes, and kept them forcefully by my sides. His light blue eyes drooped down at me, obviously exhausted and paranoid. You see, since I was only nine - I was barely half of August's size, causing the problem of wandering eyes and curiousness. His unveiled torso was right in my line of sight, and he knew it, too. But what he didn't know, was how obviously pale and blinding his skin really was. Lord, did I want to shield my poor innocent eyes.
"What're you, a vampire?" I rose a brow, my sarcasm beginning to shine through my pure surface like a beam. It wasn't mean't to be taken as a rude remark, and I knew that August wouldn't take much consideration into the comment - which was relieving. So I just spoke my mind, much like my mother does. Goodness, I was becoming more and more like her by the day. With a slick roll of his eyes, the utterance swept over his head like the wind and he continued with the - what I suppose was a conversation.
"What is it, kid?"
His groggy voice gave me the hint that all he'd been doing was sleeping, and had just woken up from a nap. At.. two in the afternoon? Is that was regular adults did? Sleep, and ignore children like it was their job? My mother wasn't normal, or a regular parent to say. She was always up on her toes, and making sure that I was taken care of before herself. She woke up before the sun did, and only slept in on weekends when she knew that I'd be doing the same. But hey, let August do August I guess.
I balled my fists, and tried to pinpoint what I had even come here for in the first place. After minutes of yelling, and trying my hardest to get the whiskered man out of his room - I had completely lost my young train of thought. It's wheels ran off the tracks, but I soon recovered them and got them rolling perfectly down the route.
"Does the name, Jefferson...ring a bell to you?"
His brow pulled together, and his lips parted softly. I didn't know if the expression that washed over his face was shock, or confusion. Maybe both? He broke our eye contact, and began to nervously scan the area around us in deep thought. I took this as a yes, even before he had answered me. After almost two months of constant oblivion to anything, and having more secrets than I'd like to admit, kept from me, I could see that look in anyone's eyes when they knew something. Hey, I might be young. But I'm not dumb. In fact, I like to think I got my smarts from my mother instead of that dilapidated school. All we learned about was numbers, and division - and even read stupid stories about dinosaurs that held secret meanings within the pages. You could tell MM didn't like teaching it, either. She was adventurous, and liked to break the rules a little bit - especially with those stories we had to read. She'd make up her own story, and create more words other than the ones on the pages, creating this amazing and complex tale that nobody expected.
The pause continued for longer than I expected, ushering an expression of perplexity to convey itself upon my face.
"Are we talking about.. a creepy and..." he finally looked back at me, and rose a palm to caress his stubbled chin, "oddly fashionable.. Jefferson?" Ding, ding. The man spoke, and his short yet very informative response matched the creepy man's appearance exactly. I gave myself a mental high five for that one - I called it. Well, other than Jefferson obviously implying that he knew August, I still counted myself as a mind reader. Whatever, I still had an imagination.
I nodded my head slowly, a bit shocked over the fact that he could pinpoint that exact Jefferson so quickly, and swiftly. Eh, he was August - and he was smart. He remembered faces like a crow, and had one of the best memories I had ever seen.
He delayed in his response, conjuring up another question I suppose, "..Big top hat?" He lifted another palm, gesturing a large circle above his head. Another, ding ding! Man, he was on the ball today. I responded with another nod; seems as if that was my iconic gesture.
As if he lost all strength in his muscles, the brawn in his face loosened and drooped. From the expression of shock, to one of disappointment and fear. That is the moment when he began to confuse me the most in this entire confrontation.
"...Shit."
The once open door swung and slammed just mere inches in front of my face. I jumped backwards in surprise, my eyes widening twice their size. I wasn't sure how to respond exactly - considering the conversation was going pretty well and I was actually getting somewhere with August, I wasn't expecting a door to be shut between us. After a few moments of recollecting myself, and my jittery palms - I took another step closer to the door as I was before. I leaned in gently, about to press my ear to the wooden surface, and see what exactly the purpose for that action really was. But as quickly as it closed, it was open again. And this time, a still unshaven man appeared. But, there was a slight change in scenery.
He finally put a shirt on.
There was a slight moment where I wanted to sigh with relief, but August was obviously in a rush and began to close the large wooden weapon on hinges behind him, "How many surprises does this damn town hold.." It wasn't put together like a question, he knew how many surprises. Even if his stay has only consisted of almost two months now - he probably knows more than what he wanted to. That statement was something mended together to express what he was feeling, and the way he spoke that proclamation revealed itself to me as something angry and irritated. Much like how he was before he opened that stupid door. So, if wasn't a surprise to me.
The stubbly faced man raced past me, and commenced his stomping rage down the creaky and aged wooden steps of Granny's Bed and Breakfast. And of course, since I had earned this label of his following minion, I did what I was supposed to do.
Follow.
Rough tiled surfaces don't mix well with shoulder blades and spinal chords. That's probably why you never see anyone leaning against them like some super villain waiting to plot their evil plan. And then there was me: the mysterious and odd suit bearing man who stood at random places at certain times. Or maybe, random times, too. I wasn't a villain who wanted to fulfill an evil plan, and take over a city with some magic powers. I was.. a hatter. Mad, to say. So yeah, it sounded like I was crazed with wicked blood, but I truly just wanted one thing from this town. And it was far from evil.
I crossed my arms, straining my ears to listen and be on watch for pouncing footsteps down an unfortunately old staircase. People walked, and stared. Something I expected, so I just peered back at them until they became uncomfortable enough to continue along their way and drag their gazes back to the sidewalk. Was I that scary?
My eyes followed and scanned the scenery around me, and the small building. Birds chirped, and butterflies flew - people laughed, and skipped down the cement walkways like joyous children who just got a new toy. It was hard to believe that this town was cursed, and filled with brainwashed princesses and princes who can't even remember their own families. They are were all just too happy. The Evil Queen gave them such a horrid curse, eh?
Even as many times as I told myself that the life that all these people were torn to, wasn't bad - it really was. I may of not been dragged into this curse, and a part of it. But I still felt it, and I part of me was involved. A large part, really.
But who was I to become this soppy man, trudging around saddened over a curse that nobody even knew existed? I guess that was what Henry was for. To make them believe, and soon do that part for me. All I had to do was keep my doleful thoughts and feelings trapped beneath my skin, and locked away until I needed them. I was glad I could conceal things like that, but at the same time - I couldn't wait to let them out. Because when I let them out, it means it was the time. And the time, well.. I'd finally get what I wanted from this town. I'd wait years, but I was also very impatient. I should've spoken to that injured 'Queen' when I had the chance. And ripped the answer to my problems right from her lungs.
But Emma got attached. And no matter how hard I tried to find Regina finally alone and talk-able - Emma was there. Emma was always there. I had no choice, but to leave and let the situation sort itself out. And trust me, if I'm here long enough to find Regina waltzing herself back across that retched town line - there will be talking. But if there is anything but luck by my side, she won't be the only one walking across the line. A familiar blonde with too little, and sometimes too much to say, would be right there by her side.
There was a subtle thump, thump. Repeating one after the other; the sound that I had been waiting for, for at least fifteen minutes now. It was the sound of relief, and to a child - the sound of an ice cream trucks theme song playing half way down their street. I inhaled a large breath, my lungs expanding in my chest followed by a deep exhale. As I came to my senses once more, I noticed that blood wasn't circulating in my feet anymore, for I could no longer feel my toes. I adjusted my stance, and leaned further onto the rough brick wall behind me. My backbone was crying out to stop, but I gave no attention to my aching bones - as my mind was set on the pairs of feet that would soon exit through the door beside me. I wanted to make a warming entrance, or.. appearance? Not too surprising, and intimidating - what do you think I am? Mad?
I left my hat beside my now awakening feet, leaving it resting carefully on the cement ground. I turned my head slightly, to face the twisting doorknob, mentally preparing myself for the confrontation. This couldn't be that hard, it was a lot like seeing an old friend again. But this friend, may or may not hate your guts for just the mere action of showing up. I left my arms crossed unable to conjure up another gesture to situate them in.
The squeaky, rusted door swung open with little force. Unveiling a taller clique built man, along with a smaller boy right at his heels like a shadow. August and Henry, of course. The whiskered man seemed to be in a hurry, and to where? I think I had an idea. He turned, to start speed walking in my direction, but stopped abruptly. You could hear the skidding of Henry's sneakers as he wasn't well prepared for the sudden pause in their expedition. We must've only been a foot away from each others presence, the thick awkward air between us suffocating our lungs rapidly.
"..Great." August's voice lowered greatly, showing his 'obvious' excitement to seeing me here. I can't say that I shared the same disappointment, but I at least shared the smallest slice. It was probably the only thing we had in common other than the fairy-tale thing.
I chose to expel my sarcastic and snarky side this time, not wanting to get trampled over like a lost child looking for his mother, "I expected the kid to go run after you." I felt Henry's prying eyes on me, but I didn't dare to look. I kept my sharp gaze on August, and his clenched jaw.
"I see that." August must've thought about using the same tactic to come off stronger than he actually was. He wasn't one who usually got trampled over - even when he was a young child who was still made of planks and sticks. Everyone loved him, and his bubbly personality. Damn, he had the life. Besides the occasional reassurance that blood didn't flow in his veins.
I paused for a moment, and then outstretched my palm for him to calmly shake. A large part of me new he would harshly decline my gesture, and continue with his angry spoken words, but I tried anyway, "Well, long time no see old pal - how's life working out for yah?" I tilted my head, forcing a sly smirk upon my lips. August wasn't entertained the least bit, and glared at my hand like it was some sort of foreign object that could harm anyone that dared to lie a finger on it.
I gave up on being kind, and lowered my palm back down to my side, "It's been a bit busy - may I ask why you're here?" He was completely unimpressed, and downright blunt. It was expected, and no where near surprising at all. The comment could've been put in a million ways, and the good-natured way was the one I was expecting, but didn't receive.
I decided to be more on the snarky side, and begin to pull August's strings a bit. I wanted to befuddle his mind, and have him crawling and begging for more information. "Well.." I hesitated, glancing between the two figures staring me down. But I kept my glances mostly on the brunette headed child, Henry. When it came to the mention of his mother, you could see his mind flick a switch and the light in his eyes make an appearance, "when the mayor showed up on the hospitals doorstep, I decided to pay a visit." A corner of my lip curled up, knowingly tugging more at the child's strings, other than August's. It was kind of cruel, but what can I say? I was mad after all. "I heard some of the scoop from chatty-mouth Swan, but that's about it. What about you, wooden boy?" As usual, this was how our conversations usually went. Filled with subtle anger, and more sarcasm than a preppy school girl.
He crossed his arms, and shifted on his feet, "I'm here to save this town, actually. And I don't think I need anymore help, but thank's for the offer." He read me like an open book, and that was the horrid part about speaking to him. Or maybe the kid spilled a little bit too much on the trip up there. I wouldn't know, and didn't care too much about it because I had the advantage. And as we all know, the Mad Hatter never shows up without any tricks.
When it came to secrets, August was the one to usually have them and the one who would usually figure them out. But this one, I was determined to keep locked away in the deepest depths of my mind. It wasn't bad, like some sort of plot to murder the entire town. Actually, not even close. But when I held things dear to me, they stayed close. They stayed important, and they were spoken of as important and as deadly as murdering a whole town. Yeah, yeah - horrible comparison, but what else do I have. I hadn't even spoken of helping the town, other than to Henry. And by the short wait, I had come to the conclusion that Henry never even gotten around to the chance to speak about it. Hell, August probably heard a mere syllable of my name and went running like a gazelle trying to escape a full grown lion. I never really knew why he hated me so much, but damn, a lot of people did. He was probably handed a temporary member joining card by the large group that detests me, as if they collect members by the day because of the pretty decorations and phrases on the three by five inched index cards.
August put a gentle palm on the back of Henry's spine, ushering him to walk at his side. His gaze left mine, and trailed over my shoulder - and began to waltz away as if he didn't run out of that door, crazed to find my ass. I folded my hands behind my back, and glanced to the ceiling with a roll of my eyes. Before he could gain enough feet to pass my being, I took a small side step and cut off his pathway like sudden fallen debris.
"Whoa, whoa - wait a second," I rose my palms like a defensive mechanism and watched the annoyance in Augusts' expression grow dramatically, "how about... we all go get some coffee and have a little chat." I flashed a smile, and glimpsed between the two, my eyes landing and sticking onto Henry. "Hot chocolate for you, kid." I winked, and focused my attention back on August and his five o'clock shadow.
"I believe you and I have some catching up to do," I could just feel how badly he wanted to roll his eyes, but held it back wisely, "don't you think, August?"
It seemed that Emma wasn't such a maestro at board games as she thought she was. In view of the fact that I had beaten her every single time we played Monopoly. I suppose, to make herself feel better, and give herself a bit of leeway - she'd always blame it on the fact that I was a mayor, and I basically did this stuff for a living. I would shrug, letting her have her way, and let her confidence rise once more before she ended up landing on another spot I owned on the flimsy board.
"Dammit!" Her voice rose, as her fist lightly pounded the metal table. Another thing Emma had trouble with in games like these, was that her anger sometimes controlled her. I played along with it, other than trying to cool her down - because I really wasn't interested in babysitting a grown nurse. Then again, I could see behind her layers, and how that anger she showed wasn't truly anger. It was more of a lower level of irritation, that would disperse into thin air quite quickly. But no matter how 'angry' she seemed, I still played each night when she walked through that door with a dorky smile and her hands grasped tightly around another board game. At first glance, you'd see her as some hard ass that didn't let even a butterfly come near her presence. But after a few days of cheesy jokes, and soppy Disney movies, you flip a page and are exposed to this entire different being. A woman who doesn't like to brush her hair, and loves acting like a five year old on the daily. You'd think it would be exhausting, but the truth be told - when she was around, I seemed to consume more energy than I knew what to do with.
When I was rolled through those thick glass doors, nobody ever warned me of the effect she could have on one person. Back in Storybrooke, for twenty eight years - I had been this tough and stern person nobody would even lay eyes on. I have to admit - I was mean. I am mean. I like to refrain from using such a word as 'evil', because it made me think more of a situation I had been in, well... twenty eight years ago. I also like to think that I've changed, in more than just one way. No more silky and tight corset fitting dresses, and no more anxiety taking me over just because I couldn't find a woman who's skin was white as snow. Hm, it sounded almost like a joke now. Far less real, and more like... a fairy tale. I've changed my clothing, my lifestyle and.. I'd admire myself much more if I had the courage to add, my entire being, to that list. But I couldn't just yet. I was still the Queen. The big bad, Evil Queen who still wanted to rip Snow White's heart from her chest and take away everything she ever had. It was sad, but.. that's how my life goes and that's how it'll stay. Locked away in my brain, and kept there to be hidden from anyone that it could hurt. Including, Henry. But Emma, when I finally saw her smile as something warming and joyful, instead of a pesky nurse trying to get too close - something clicked within me. I saw life as something enjoyable, and something I was so grateful for having. Because I would get to see her the next morning, and we would share a cup of coffee because we were both too cheap to buy two. Henry made me feel the exact same way, and even more. It was as if I was closer to Henry when Emma was around, and I used that as an excuse for liking her as a human being for the longest time before I gave up. I never liked anybody - actually, I hated everyone. It was weird being so close to someone, and enjoying their presence - especially since they weren't Henry. He was the only one I had ever laughed with, and let my sky high walls down to. But after a mere day with the blonde, she knew how to break me without even saying a word. Like I had knew her my entire life, and I was just now getting the chance to meet her. I told myself that she saved my life, and that was the only reason I was being so weak. That I was still boggled up from the crash, and I just needed a few days to get my shit together and I'd be back to my irritated and pissed off self.
But I didn't change back to me. I stayed this weak, and giggle fitting woman who melted under a foolish blondes flashing smiles and over exaggerated gazes. I felt different, and I couldn't change it no matter how many times I engulfed my mind back to memories I never even dreamed of digging up again. I was sensitive, and radiated this odd aura that apparently was a magnetic pull to all the good thoughts. I also tried to convince myself that Emma was some sort of witch doctor, and cursed me to a life of complete happiness that I couldn't control. It didn't sound like much of a curse, but hell - look at Storybrooke. It doesn't look or sound like one, either.
Case and point: Emma made me this weak ass woman, who couldn't even stand on her own two feet anymore. But at least I still had a hard grip on my stubbornness. It was practically the only form of sarcasm that I had left, so I cherished it and used it whenever possible. In fact, Emma wanted to be the horse piece, but I whipped out my skills and became a stubborn two year old everyone hates. I mean, it worked. Because now I strided down the squared road as a gallant horse that constantly destroyed the shoe piece that Emma was stuck with.
Emma leaned carefully over the table to examine the board, "Seriously? I can't believe you guilt tripped me into letting you buy Boardwalk again." She groaned, throwing her head back in exaggeration. Oh yeah, I used those special skills of mine to get that pretty square called Boardwalk, too. After she accidentally spilled that it was the best place to get in the game, I headed straight for it. She now never tells me anything about the board games she brings in. She was just as stubborn as I was.
She released another groan, and exhaled over dramatically like she usually did to get her point across, "Easy tiger, you only owe me..." it was my turn to lean over the board, and scan the pretty square, "... six-hundred and fifty dollars." I looked up to meet her eyes that glared at me in irritation. I dragged on the amount of money for far too long, trying to get as much as a reaction as I could from her - and it worked. An eye roll was given, and she glared down at the little paper money she had left in her stash.
As she collected a variety of greens, pinks, whites and so on, I lifted my palm and set it out for her to set the overly cartooned money in, "How is it that you're the patient, and I'm the one paying you?" There she was. The sarcastic, and childish Emma that was peaking out to play. Just like I said, her anger vanished in mere seconds. I felt the light weight of the small slits of paper resting in my palm, and examined the scene before me. Emma had only a few dollars left, and I would win. I sat the pile of money in my hand next to the rest, and let my eyes travel to Emma's emerald green ones. She had a soft smirk, and her arms tightly folded across her chest. Her red scrubs were wrinkled from sitting cross legged so long, and were this dark red that framed and complimented her body perfectly... shit was I staring?
She shifted in her seat, and I watched as her fragile palm wrapped around what money she had left and made a terrible attempt of tossing it towards me. Causing the wind swept paper to sprawl and fly everywhere. "Shut up!" She stifled a chuckle, residing back to her folded arms and comfy position on her idolized plush chair she claimed since day one.
I rose my brow, my eyes widening as a wide smile took me over, "I didn't say anything!" I chuckled, and glanced around at all the dispersed money with a sigh.
"Yeah, but you were staring!" Emma shot back, gesturing to her fallen paper with a flailing arm and gaping eyes. Her responses always gave me a kick, and sent a bursting fit of laughter to my lungs. She was a complete five year old, who decided to become stuck in a twenty - something year old's body. Or maybe she just never grew up, who knew.
I shook my head and snickered, "I wasn't staring at your poor surplus, dear."
"Then what were you staring at?" This time she rose her brow, and lifted her chin as if she had caught me in some sort of act. In fact, I was actually terrified that she did. Her blonde hair fell behind her shoulders, as her chin lifted higher and higher as she was trying to make her overly ridiculous point.
I swallowed, and felt my cheeks get hotter by the second. But I recovered quite nicely, if I do say so myself, "At that terrible choice of color for your apparel," I nodded my head to gesture to her scrubs. I was a mayor, and I was used to being caught in difficult situations that I'd have to dig myself out quickly and swiftly from. So this should've been nothing, but it.. was something. I paused for way to long, and had let my face become too obvious that I was thinking. But she must've took that as a good enough answer.
"What? Seriously?" She sprawled her arms out, in confusion and shock, "I thought you liked red?" Her brow furrowed, and she seemed genuinely hurt before a grin overpowered her pretend wall of anger.
"I do," I inhaled, and scanned over the wrinkles and creases once more before meeting her gaze, "..but not that shade." I had to physically hold my breath to keep myself from erupting into laughter. I was usually one to keep serious, and stern - but like I said. Something clicked, and I can't turn back. I hated it. But how could I hate it completely when I couldn't even hate functionally anymore?
"But not that shade," she mocked me in a child's voice, whilst making the most ridiculous face I had ever seen. She swiftly grasped her palm around a small throw pillow and tossed at me. I couldn't hold back the giggles, so I let them loose and so did she. I caught the pillow with ease, and hugged in tightly to my torso. I stopped laughing for the slightest moment, just to respond to her ridiculous imitation.
"You're a child."
It did nothing but make her laugh harder, and lean over in titters. I rolled my eyes sarcastically, and watched her calm down from her immature fit she was having. But no matter what she did, the smile was still spread clearly across my lips. She leaned up, back into her sitting position - her arms still cradling her stomach. I shook my head, and lifted my elbows to rest them on the arm's of my chair, but I seemed to be too focused on Emma wiping her tears away to realize I still had my crutches leaning against the side of the chair - accidentally knocking both of them off balance and sending them thumping to the polished floor.
Emma went from carefully drying her tears with the side of her index finger, to scanning the very minor incident that occurred. I turned my body the slightest degree, and began to reach my arm over the side of the chair - trying to lift myself up far enough to grasp my fist around the metal objects.
"Here, here - I've got em'," Emma jumped from her seat, and scurried over to my side like a puppy racing to it's dog bowl.
"Emma, I'm perfectly capable to pick them up-"
"No, I've got them," she said reassuringly, as she bent over to grasp the crutches and set them gently back to where they were a few moments ago, "we don't need anymore injuries, madam mayor." She shook her head, finally able to balance the thin poles of metal whilst giving me the sternest look a mother could give her child. But considering the name calling she used, she wasn't being completely serious.
I rose my brow, and lifted my chin to gaze up at her accordingly, "So you're telling me, you'll drag me a floor down to get a bag of junk - but won't let me lean over the side of a chair to grab a pair of crutches?" There was a hint of sarcasm that manifested itself in my tone. Emma paused, and her line of sight began to glimpse around the room for an explanation or reason to her madness and crazed obsession with Cheetos. She knew she was stuck, so she had no other response than to tell me to shush.
"Be quiet, and let me be your doctor for five minutes."
We shared unavoidable grins, and chuckles. The grim air between us vanished without even staying for more than a minute, or long enough to even become grim air in the first place.
I lifted my right leg, and tucked it under my resting left one. My healing foot was propped up to the slight left, on the only armless plush chair in the entire room. Emma made sure that it was as comfortable and relaxing as possible. I believed she was just trying to suck up to me for dragging my fatigued ass down to a vending machine, but she objected otherwise. I wasn't the least bit angry for that unplanned expedition, even if the blonde thought I was. I was more angry at the fact that the choice of snacks she landed on, was Cheetos. A more delectable, and wholesome snack would have been much better - and I would of gladly stood against that rusted wall for a little longer. But what else did I expect? I just met the woman two months ago, and I already knew how bad her sweet tooth was. It was also a bit ironic, considering she was a doctor and knew the bad affects could be to consume one too many snacks and sweets. But what the hell did I know? I was a Mayor, for goodness sake. But, I was also a mother, so I believe that gave me some bonus points to the topic.
"How about, three and a half?" I smirked, and watched another eye roll erupt from the Swan. She added her remarkable shake of the head, and lifted her right leg to take a heedful seat on my armrest. She folded her hands in her lap, and twiddled with her thumbs like a child awaiting to receive a lecture, resting into the plush cushion she obtained. I furrowed my brow, befuddled at the sudden change in posture, and attitude in the woman. "Was your chair not satisfying you enough? Or are you just having withdraws? Trust me, I know - I'm irresistible at times."
I was obviously teasing the poor blonde, but she didn't seem to react the way I wanted her to; with a bright smile, and hurdling over in giggles - instead, the one reaction shot I got was the corner of her lip curling into a subtle grin. I tilted my head, trying to get a better perspective on her expression, but her head hung sort of low. If I was correct, I believed that she was deep in some form of thought - but I couldn't be completely sure. I paused, trying to give her some leeway and time to respond in any sort of way - such as the use of words. But nothing came, and her fingers continued to fiddle.
"Emma?" The fret in my tone rose dramatically, and my brow did the same.
"Can I be your doctor for a minute?"
"Okay, now you're scaring me."
"Regina."
She tilted her head to the side, giving me a side glare as to say, 'I'm serious.' When Emma unveiled the scary doctor that hid under her skin, nothing was ever good. It was always something to do with surgery, and upsetting information I would've been better off without knowing. But, I guess that's what doctors were for. Two things, saving people's lives and giving bad news like a judge telling someone their sentence. I felt my skin go ice cold, and my lips part - but I refused to let my mouth gape open.
"...You have a minute."
She fluctuated, and jumbled for the words she must've been mentally preparing for the past few minutes. Her minute was ticking downwards speedily, as I counted down the seconds in my head.
sixty...fifty-nine...fifty-eight...fifty-seven...fifty-six...
"I've been a wimp.." My brow knit together.
fifty-four...fifty-three...
"I really.. big one, actually."
fifty-one...fifty...
"And I know, I should've told you sooner I just - ...it was never the right time," She scoffed, and shook her head. Her wild blonde hair falling over her shoulders, "and I don't know why I thought this was an even better time - but.."
forty-three...forty two...just spit it out, dammit...forty one...
I didn't have a clue to where this turn in conversation, or confession was going. I was travelling down a dark tunnel with no way out, so I just had to sit - and listen to the distinct mumbling and uttering.
"There was... a boy," she looked up to the ceiling, and either I was crazy - or there were tears gathering that she was trying to hold back, "..in - the crash." She inhaled the largest breath possible, her chest heaving outwards.
Shit. There was the hint - the hint that I desperately needed. How more obvious could this get.
"He's dead isn't he?" I swallowed, my gaze falling to my own fiddling thumbs now. I expected to feel Emma's prying eyes on me, but they were no where to be found.
thirty-one...thirty...twenty-nine...
"...He died on impact." She gulped, and I could hear her voice beginning to crack.
twenty-six...twenty-five...
I fluttered my eyes, realizing the warm liquid that was beginning to engulf and blur my vision quite suddenly. Shit, was I crying? No. I couldn't be - it wasn't something even plausible. I was Regina Mills, the Evil Queen. I killed, I tortured, even enslaved - I cursed a whole damn towns-full of people for gods sake! I didn't cry. I cried rarely, but I used to cry all the time. It was something I didn't do often, if at all. I'd suck it up, and just torture more in my rage - because I was...no I am horrible. Nothing's changed within me, even if on the outside my appearance has. I was still malicious, and baleful - just as I was before the curse.
Oh my fucking god, I was crying. What the hell did Emma Swan do to me?
"Regina?" I snapped my head up, to meet Emma's viridescent eyes preying down on me. They had a hint of redness, and were glossy. Mine were probably much worse - and I immediately regretted looking up at her. I watched as she scanned my tear filled eyes, and down-turned lips. I did a slight shake of my head, and pursed my lips to hide the fact that I was hurting. I felt turned around, and completely dazed. Who in the hell was I? I wasn't someone who cried over shit like this. I should've been trying to hide my scoffs and ignorance, instead.
But I was Regina Mills; and I was crying.
eighteen...seventeen...sixteen...
"Why'd you tell me?" I jumbled around in my seat, becoming uncomfortable and wanting to move in any way possible. Emma stayed sat on my arm rest, her legs hanging over the side, and her feet barely planted on the ground.
"You needed to know. And I'm sorry if I crashed game night - I felt like it was well overdue.." she glanced between me, the floor and the ceiling, "it's also my shitty job." Her shoulders heaved upwards in a shrug.
nine...eight...
"Well, I didn't need to know," I didn't dare to look up at her. A tear escaped, but I quickly lifted my palm and wiped it away as if it never happened. I didn't cry, dammit. The more I became upset, the more I became angry. Angry that I was even getting upset in the first place. I didn't get upset. It wasn't me. It was the old me. The weak me.
"Regina..." I felt her warming grasp gently on my shoulder, and her voice had that damned tone. That tone implying that I did need to know, for whatever reason. That reason can go to hell.
I swallowed, and sat a palm on my other free armrest. My healing foot lifted from the cushioned chair, and planted itself gently on the buffed floors. I felt Emma's hand slowly glide from my shoulder, and in between my shoulder blades. I couldn't see very well, as more and more tears collected and piled up. The little strength I had was used to lift my weak frame from the chair, and onto my half working feet.
five...four...
"Gina, wait -" Emma hopped up to her own feet, outstretching her arms as if to catch me if I fell.
three...two...
I turned to her, weakly leaning against the frail armrest. Her palms were now frantically searching for the crutches she set up no more than a minute ago - and placing them quickly in front of me. I didn't break eye contact with her, not caring anymore if she saw the glassy tears in my eyes that were heaping up by the second, "I'm a bit exhausted from our little snack trip," a forced grin was placed on my face. It was my turn to prove a point, "I think I'm going to lie down for a moment." Another tear rolled down my cheek, and left a visible trail. I was too busy using every bit of strength I had to keep myself from sobbing. How in the hell was I capable of sobbing?
one...
"Regina, please-" she took a small step forward, and I lifted my chin. My cold palm reached out, and gripped the grey handles of the crutches. Emma's hand barely skimmed mine, and I felt goosebumps rush all over my body. I blamed it on the tears.
zero...
"Your minute is up, Emma."
"Two coffee's, and one hot chocolate."
I may not of known Ruby for the longest time, but I was sure she was the clique, cocky and sluggish waitress that all diners usually had. She had the red streak in her dark hair, and the clothing that no man would ever let his daughter walk out of the house dressed in. I was worried for Granny's sake - that aged woman was the harshest one out there. How in the hell did that lean waitress get away with it?
Probably her charm. That was believable, considering August seemed to melt under her alluring gaze and flashing smiles on the daily. Or so Henry would tell me. But I had no doubt about it; as soon as we stepped foot onto those tiled floors - Augusts' cheeks were forever rosy and pink. Ugh.
We were seated in a booth, with August and Henry on one side - and I on the other. It wasn't everyday that I got to have myself seated in sticky plastic covers they called seats, so I chose to try and enjoy it. Or at least, the best I could. The place may of been air conditioned, but it still felt as if it were mean't to be a sauna. Maybe it was all the lovesick couples that crowded the small eating house; with there entwined hands and sweaty palms. Ugh. Perhaps I had a bad outlook on everything, causing myself to cringe at a simple hello. But, in my opinion - when you're trying to enjoy a delectable meal in a nice cozy diner, you probably prefer not to see couples swallowing each other's tongues.
"Don't forget the cinnamon," Henry peered up at the brunette with a soft smile, as she began to set down everyone's energy fuel. She sat Henry's overly large mug before him, steam still floating from the glass.
"I would never," Ruby rose her brow, down at the young child and they shared a giggle before she became immediately distracted by the bearded man seated on the inner portion of the booth. Their eyes locked, and mine did a roll of their own. I didn't have any more doubts about the puppet, the wolf - and their budding romance. I had gotten an earful from Henry about the situation earlier, his obvious irritation shining through. I couldn't blame him, I had barely been here twenty-four hours and could gag.
August was unable to contain his grin, and watched the waitress lean practically halfway over the shiny metallic table and into his arms. I tried to shift my glare to Henry, but the poor kid was being essentially suffocated by the tilted hostess. All you could see was small tufts of his dark hair, and his frozen astounded palms. I was surprised that she somehow dodged Henry's cup of hot cocoa during the entire scene, considering she might of virtually been in both of their laps.
I slid a swift hand onto my warm coffee mug, examining the scene with squinted eyes - trying to block it from my gaze as much as possible. Ruby still had Augusts' cup in her fragile palm, but sooner or later after their hour long session of eye flirting, she finally placed the mug in front of him.
"Enjoy your coffee."
"Oh, trust me. I will."
His not so subtle glances, and his overly carnal remark sent me to the depths of hell where you just continuously gagged and cringed. For a moment, I had almost wished that Henry hadn't had ears. Because, without even seeing the poor child's face, as it was still blocked by the waitress - I could see the disgust and utter aggravation sprouting like weeds.
I saw the corners of Ruby's lips curl into a grin, that was when she finally began to lean back and strand upright once more. The relief in Henry's eyes was comical, and sent bursts of laughter to my lungs - threatening to break the awkward tension. But I kept them down, and waited for the two to stop their childish gazes at one another. August did a nod of his head, and I'm almost positive Ruby returned the gesture with a wink - but I was too impatient to pay attention and give a shit.
Ruby finally scanned over the entire table, with one more slick glance to August before waltzing away carelessly. I felt an exhale release from my lungs, and watched as Henry breathed one out as well. Augusts' gaze traveled to his mug, and I decided to get this show on the road.
"Finally got the wolf to fetch, huh?"
His facial expression went from lovesick puppy, to a bear that had just been woken up from hibernation. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Henry's puffed cheeks from holding back a giggle. August was no where near amused, unlike Henry and I. Actual children sitting in an old booth, and getting a kick out of this whole thing.
"Aw, man!" Henry's small voice piped up and drew our attention quickly, "She forgot the cinnamon. That's the second time this week!" He sounded genuinely upset, as he glared down into his cup of hot cocoa. I furrowed my brow, and August put a large hand on Henry's shoulder.
"I'll getcha some, little man." With that, he speedily threw his arm in the air, and parted his lips to speak. Henry and I knew what that mean't - but the kid was the quicker one to act. "Hey-" Henry outstretched his petite little arms, and wrapped them around Augusts' raised one; trying to pull it down with all the strength he had.
"No, no - it's okay! I can live," the child beckoned, still struggling against Augusts' strength. Sooner or later, the bearded man gave up and sat his arm back down to his side. I snuck a sly grin to Henry, and took another sip of the scolding coffee in my hand. We didn't need another preview of their puppy dog eyes, and yearning looks again - it would be too much to bare. And I was almost positive the kid would have a freak out if he was mildly suffocated a second time.
August sighed, and wrapped his palm around the mug, "Why are we here, again?" The sarcasm in his tone rose sharply, as he took small swig of coffee. "Last time I checked, you were stuck up a certain blondes ass and saving people's lives."
"Well, I guess now it's her turn, to be stuck up someone's ass," I saw Henry's eyes widen at the sudden and constant use of curse words, but I expected him to be used to it by now. He'd been with August a while now, right? The man had the mouth of a sailor, "take a wild guess as to who." I lifted the mug to my mouth, but didn't take a sip. My eyes peering down at the whiskered man.
He took a sharp inhale of breath, and traced random lines on the table with his finger, "Well, I'm guessing it's not a fellow overpaid physician." He rose a brow, and looked back up at me.
I shook my head slightly, "That it isn't. What it is, is a Mayor with just the right amount of sweet, and sass to make the Swan swoon." Say that five times fast. There was another roll of my eyes, as I explained the situation. August caught on quite quickly, but Henry sat in the shadows glancing between us with squinted eyes.
"My mom?" Henry spoke up once more, with a furrowed brow, "You guys are talking about Emma, aren't you?" I had guessed by the statement the kid had commented on earlier at the park, that he knew Emma. Or, may not of known her - but August must of said something. I knew the whole affair. Henry was the one to waltz around town and make people believe, while August 'helped.' So to say. I also knew about Henry... and Emma. The whole relationship, or whatever you wanted to call it. It's a long story, but it'll probably pop around and about soon. Regina wasn't the only one Emma let her walls down to.
I glimpsed to August, without any thought or recognition as to why I did. It was more of like, silent speaking - through glances and glares. Who knew, I did a lot of random shit I never knew the reasoning to. Damn am I a rhymer and tongue twister, or what?
"C'mon guys, I might be young - but I'm not as stupid as you think." The kid must of thought we were doing some mind-reading telekinesis type shit, or something. Nobody had said he was stupid, maybe he was just going off of the scenery around him. But, who would blame him - we were two grown men sharing glances in awkward silence. Who wouldn't get defensive? Henry parted his lips to speak again, but instead of words - I heard a bell.
I wasn't as mad as to think it came from Henry, no. My eyes wandered, and found the entrance to the diner. The old, groaning door already swinging closed with nobody in sight. I had knit my brow together, and commenced to scanning the rest of the small area. Nothing seemed out of place, or new. People were still chatting, laughing and stuffing their faces with fresh baked pie and hamburgers.
That was until my bright blue eyes caught sight of someone smaller...shorter than the rest. Long dirty blonde hair flowing from her scalp, and falling over her shoulders as she reached and struggled to see over the counter. Granny was there, smiling down at the young girl and handing her a paper bag.
"Here yah go, hun."
The girl took the bag gracefully, and receded from standing on her tippy-toes. She wore uniformed-like clothing, such as a plaid skirt and a blue short sleeved shirt that looked o-so familiar. Henry's voice was now a blur, like it was being retrieved to the back of my head. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better look at the blonde, but her back was alas turned to me completely. The palms of my hands were scorching, the broiling coffee that resided in the mug was expelling it's heat slowly, but surely. My fingers tingled, but I paid no attention - as all of it was focused on the girl, who was now skipping back out of the diner gleefully.
The rest of the world came back in to play, and all sounds that were once blocked and muffled came soaring into to clarity.
"How did you get here, anyway?" It was August speaking, now. My head turned, and found his piercing blue eyes stuck on me and in confusion. I had forgotten his question within seconds, and realized I had lost all feeling in my palms and fingertips. The mug almost slipped from my grasp, but I collected myself enough to set it carefully back on the metallic table.
I cleared my throat, and braced myself to stand up, "Ehm..good talk, guys." With that I was up, and racing towards the glass door. I heard August and Henry yelping after me, but I continued and clutched my cold hand around the doorknob. I wasn't even sure if I had turned it or not, but the door opened swiftly as well as quickly.
The fresh breeze from outside filled my lungs, and over powered the odor of grease and cocoa beans that stuck to my clothing. My head shot back and forth, scouring the multiple buildings and structures that rose from the ground up. I finally turned to my right, and saw the same plaid skirt I had recognized a few moments ago. Her skip had turned into a gallop, heading straight down the sidewalk and towards a tall woman with her hand outstretched.
"Come along, Paige." Her soothing tone, and smile made the little girl giggle with excitement. She took the womans hand, and swung the joyous paper bag back in forth in her other. My eyes darted, and captured every detail I could before they were too far away and became small specks that my poor vision couldn't make out.
There was shuffling, and the muttering of two people that came rushing out of the diner just as I had. The bell rang, and a voice spoke.
"What the hell was that about?" The scruffy voice belonged to August, who breathed heavily as if he had just ran a ten mile marathon. I didn't look, but I had guessed that Henry was at his heels - just as always.
My chest heaved outwards, and I exhaled the extended breath I had been holding in.
"..Nothing."
But it wasn't, nothing. That was my daughter.
