Oh my, an authors note at the beginning of a chapter, must be important! Truth is, I did my best to make the events of Lacey, everything that I wrote in Moments Missed, easy to understand in the rest of the Moments series just in case people didn't want to read Lacey's story. This chapter is the exception to that. I had to have her reflect on Lacey a little bit, to have her come to terms with what happened to her. I still think, even if you didn't read Moments Missed you'll do okay for this chapter although I will suggest that if you didn't read Missed, you might want to read the first chapter. It's the back story I gave Lacey and it'll make a lot of this chapter make even more sense. The good thing is that from here on out, even though there will be references made to her time as Lacey, this is the only chapter truly heavy with it.
She felt like she was walking to a funeral. After she'd dropped her laundry into Granny's washing machine and returned the key, she'd left through the diner without another word. The walk down the street to the library seemed twice as long as it should have been and yet not long enough. Every footfall felt heavier, every step bringing her closer to a confrontation she wasn't sure she was ready for. The library looked just as she'd left it. If there were strangers in town, they hadn't tried to break in while she'd been gone last night. Not that she knew why they would. If the dagger was gone, there was nothing worth stealing inside.
She made her way to the staircase in back, dragging her feet as she climbed up to the landing, and before she knew it she was right where she'd been yesterday. Door in front of her. Fingers on the knob. Key in her hand. The same overwhelmed feeling she'd had yesterday as she stood there washed over her again. This had been the moment she run, hadn't been able to stand the thought of going inside. As she stood before the door again she began to think of the huge tasks involved in going in there. Small as they were, they seemed to take a lot more energy than she had.
Her grip on the handle tightened. One step at a time. Unlock the door. Get changed. Focus on the small goals. She took a deep breath, exhaled, then, faster than she expected, she forced her key into the lock, turned and opened the door to her apartment. She ignored everything around her and set her sights solely on the bedroom. Without thinking she walked swiftly into the room, retrieved fresh clothes from her dresser and her closet, then shut herself away in the bathroom, the one place memories of Lacey hadn't managed to infiltrate completely. In this room alone it was almost as if she'd never existed. Though Lacey had used her belongings she'd at least put them back where she'd placed them and everything looked almost as she remembered it.
She pulled on her familiar clean clothes, removed the blue nail polish, and brushed through her hair, tying it back so it wouldn't be in the way as she worked. When she looked in the mirror she was both pleasantly surprised and saddened by the reflection. She looked like herself again, but she didn't feel like herself. There was no happiness on her face and her eyes seemed dull. The reflection had nothing to do with where she was or who she was...simply who she was without.
She turned away from the mirror, unable to stand the reflection he'd left her with and not wanting to think about why he'd left her with it to begin with. There was plenty else to do right now. And if she was going to start somewhere, it may as well be here. Lacey may not have disturbed the area around her sink or in her shower, but there were towels she'd carelessly dropped into the floor. Her first instinct was to hang them up, but as she folded them she found she couldn't stand the thought of using them again. It was silly. She and Lacey had little in common, but they'd shared the same body. There was no reason not to use them again. But the thought of it still made her cringe. Much to Ruby's disappointment, she wanted nothing to do with the girl again. She wanted everything gone, her apartment cleaned, everything she'd touched washed, until nothing remained.
She felt as though she'd been possessed by a demon that had infected the place she lived. The urge to clean her space, to exorcise the woman, was too strong to let some dirty towels go. She opened the bathroom door, tossed them into a pile in the middle of her bedroom and looked around. What else? The bed. Lacey had spent her last night in the bed, alone, thankfully. And the night before that Gold had put her to sleep and covered her only with the blanket at the foot of the bed. She added the blanket, holding it delicately like she was afraid a remnant of Lacey might have lingered and would jump back into her skin taking over control again if she touched it too much or too long. She was being ridiculous, she knew it. The blanket, the comforter, her sheets, they were just objects, they couldn't hurt her. But seeing them in the laundry pile away from her bed, helped. And putting new towels in the bathroom and fresh bedding on the mattress made her feel better.
They hadn't slept together. That fact had pissed Lacey off to no end. She hadn't been used to men turning her down and the fact that he had confused her and angered her all at once. She'd tried. She'd tried hard. And as much as she didn't want to think about it, there had been a few times when she'd come close to succeeding, a few times when she suspected he'd nearly given into her that made her heart ache.
It would have been easy to be mad at him, but with the events that followed she couldn't even begin to decipher that mess. Her head couldn't tolerate it and her heart might explode if she tried to sort it out. He'd been vulnerable, she'd made him that way. He'd given into his violent temptations and her body had encouraged him to do it with words and actions. Given more time he might have given into Lacey completely, if she'd had the time to wear him down, but at the end of the day he'd brought her back. He'd tried to protect her, willing to let Lacey die, but unwilling to let her fear her own death. He'd told her that he needed her and brought her back to him.
He needed her? He needed her?! Of course he did. She'd always known that. She was the only one to ever see him as more than a monster. To support him as he tried to find his son. To make him good. He needed her for her mind but what use was she to him now? If he'd really needed her, if he'd needed her help, wouldn't he have taken her with him? Wouldn't he have found someone else to take the cloaking spell and let her come with him on that ship?
She left her haunting thoughts behind and continued her journey into the kitchen, finding everything she could, everything Lacey had touched, used, given so much as a second glance. She picked up the rags, the dish towels, and put the dishes still in the sink into the dishwasher. On the counter, just where she'd left it sat her book: La Belle et La Bete. He'd been reading it the entire time she was Lacey. He'd once told her that the world outside of Storybrooke would have thought that she was the Belle in the story. Was that why he'd been reading it? Had that Belle reminded him of her in some way? Or was it just the possibility of a happy ending for Belle and the Beast that had captivated him?
They'd exchanged harsh words over this counter, Lacey and Gold. But they'd also exchanged pleasant ones as well. Lies, she knew that now, but each of them held a tiny grain of truth. Though only she would have understood that truth, she couldn't help but feel slightly irritated at the fact that he'd told her. It was that same feeling she'd had the night he'd told her about Cora. How ridiculous! She was jealous…but this time she was jealous of herself…Lacey! She spun around, unwilling to face the small area but still clutching her book to her chest as if it could protect her, shield her from herself.
No. She knew him. She knew the true him that no one else did. He wasn't the beast the world made him out to be. It hadn't been the beast that had read this book, it hadn't been the look of the beast that had turned her down. That had been Rumpelstiltskin…her Rumpelstiltskin! She knew his faces and she knew that even when he'd been taunting the town people by Lacey's side, taken money, and made veiled threats it hadn't been him! No. That was the beast. It wasn't the best way to think about things but maybe it was the easiest way. And right now, in the midst of difficulty, she could use something easy.
As much as it hurt her to think about it, part of him had been attracted to Lacey. But it wasn't the part that mattered. At least not to her. It was the beast. It was Mr. Gold. Her Rumple had remained as faithful and protective of her, Belle, as he always had been. No. It wasn't the best solution, but it was one that calmed the fire of jealousy and settled her stomach. Rumpelstiltskin was hers. Here or in another realm, he belonged to her and her alone. It was far more comforting than anything that had happened since he left.
But the comfort wouldn't last, not while she was here, not while there was still work to be done. Across the counter her eyes fell over the wine bottle that Lacey had opened. She could have easily corked it before putting it back into the drawer, but she hadn't bothered with a wine glass and had put her mouth on the bottle. She didn't care if she never tasted the stuff again! She set the book aside then upended the contents of the bottle into the sink and disposed of the glass. She'd take the garbage out today too, but only after she was done.
Garbage. She had a laundry pile, which she was pretty certain was complete. What else needed to go into the trash? Her dress. And those terrible black stockings. But those hadn't been the only thing she'd stolen. She located the bag of clothing she'd worn her first day as Lacey.
The blue blouse she'd stolen from a store. But the pants and the shoes, she'd stolen them from a hospital locker. She'd wash the pants and figure a way to get them back to their owner. Same with the shoes. It wasn't enough to make her set foot in the hospital again, but maybe Ruby could help her and she could apologize to the women she'd stolen them from outside of that dreadful place. As for the blouse, she'd rather throw it away and pay the store back the money she owed them. She would never wear it again. The jacket he'd taken for her, under the guise of a "down payment" on back rent, she'd return that too! She didn't want any of it.
It was tempting to return the money that he'd taken for rent as well. But, she supposed, no matter the manner or motivations he'd had when he took it that had been a legal action. But the least she could do was get him to void whatever else they owed him for the month if he returned. When! When he returned. She tossed the clothes and started the washing machine, when she remembered that the black dress and clothes in the closet weren't the only thing that Lacey had tampered with.
Lacey's great love had been fashion. She'd loved to sew and create clothes. Arguably it was the only time that she'd really been happy while she was around. Her eyes landed on the sewing machine and lines of thread, scissors, even paper with drawings on them that now sat in the corner of her small place. Gold had gotten that for her the first morning she'd woken up. It had been a remarkably kind gesture, but she should get rid of it. She should throw it out, never see it again! But as she glanced down at it, the sketches she'd done jumped out at her, and instead of making her stomach lurch like everything else had, she felt a smirk pull at the corner of her lip, fighting to get out.
The drawings weren't half bad she supposed. The skirts were far too short for her and the tops too low. Lacey liked skin. No, they weren't exactly her taste, but still...she couldn't deny the girl had done great work. She'd done great work? It was her that had drawn these and while she and Lacey had different ideas of style, they both had liked fashion. Lacey liked it more than she did, but the small shopping trips she and Ruby had taken were always fun.
She left the machine as it was and went back into her bedroom, flipping over the lid of the hamper. She'd forgotten these outfits, the ones Lacey had created from the clothes she'd had. Her favorite purple top was a hopeless case. The pattern she'd cut into it was intriguing but it was too much, or rather too little fabric, for her. But the skirt she'd shortened…it wasn't terrible. It was short, much shorter than she'd ever wear, but longer than the dress she'd walked around in yesterday. She held it to her waist and glanced down. What was the harm of a shorter hem line? She'd always considered her beauty to lie in her face, Lacey had considered her entire body beautiful and something to be shown off. She'd made this to show off her legs to flaunt them to other men in an attempt to make Gold jealous. She wouldn't care about that so long as she could catch the eye of Rumple. Maybe it wasn't all as hopeless as the top had been.
She pulled out the other garments. Lacey had torn the lining out of the nightgown she'd bought a few nights before the town line incident. It had been for Rumple, but with the lining missing she found herself blushing. Sexy. She'd never considered herself sexy before, not like Lacey had been. He'd made her feel that way, but didn't know she could do it all on her own, with just a sheer piece of lace. She'd have been humiliated if Lacey had shown anyone else. But for Rumple? Well, it wasn't as if he'd be seeing something he hadn't already seen. And it wasn't as if he didn't already love her with or without it. With a promising smile she set it aside. It would get washed, but she'd keep it.
She turned her attention to the green gown that she'd made out of one of her dresses…it was clever. For having no material and only existing clothes, she had to admit it, Lacey had talent. Did that mean she had talent too? Yes. As she looked over the gown words she'd never known before filled her head. She knew the name of the stitching she'd used on the hem and that it had a plunging neckline. Her mind was already beginning to knit together the possibilities of how she could change it again, make it more appropriate for her tastes. And most remarkable of all, she liked it. She liked looking at it with possibility, she liked knowing she could change it. She'd liked clothes and of course she'd taught herself how to sew in the castle but she'd never been as interested as she was right this moment.
The words in her head might have belonged to Lacey but the voice was hers. The talent was Lacey, born of her cursed self, but the interest had been within her from the beginning. It didn't just belong to Lacey it belonged to her as well. She wasn't Lacey any more, but she wasn't just herself, she wasn't the same person she'd been before she'd crossed the town line.
She didn't want to be Lacey. But as she looked over the dress she suddenly came to a startling conclusion. She didn't want to get rid of her completely.
When she took a step back and looked at her through different eyes, she wasn't entirely bad. She'd done some terrible things, things that made her head spin. But if Lacey hadn't been her, if she hadn't been in her body, taken her life, and deceived her lover, she imagined she might not have hated her as much. She'd have felt sorry for her, she'd have wanted to help her, and console her in some way. No wonder Lacey had been drawn to the beast, they really weren't all that different.
She placed the dress and skirt back in the hamper for the laundry and went back into the living room to peer at the sewing machine. She wasn't going to get rid of it. It seemed like a waste. She couldn't believe she was considering this when a few moments ago she'd so fervently denied it, but Ruby had been right. She too had found something she tolerated, dare she say, liked, about her cursed self. Boldness. Talent. It was a short list, but it was better than nothing.
She glanced around her apartment. Hers. Well, almost. He was gone and in some small way, Lacey remained. It might not be an even percentage or number value, but whether she liked it or not she was both herself and Lacey now. Keep the good, live with the rest. That was Ruby's advice. The good certainly made the rest easier to live with. It didn't fix it, but it made it easier. Now if only she could figure out how to live without him.
Well...how do you feel about that? I mean...maybe resolution is the wrong word because that suggests that everything is okay again and it's not. She still acknowledges that a terrible thing happened to her, she's just found a way of coping with it that makes it bearable and will allow her to move on the way that Ruby instructed her too. So...I don't know...is there a word for that? Your thoughts?
Thank you Meredith Pechta, Grace5231973, Deweymay, and LaurieAHancock for your reviews on the last chapter! I'm glad that you enjoyed Ruby's return as much as I did. I love writing for that girl! It really is such a wonderful friendship don't you think? Peace and Happy Reading!