224 Gold Lane – The Nolan Residence
November 7, 2011 – 5:22 PM
It had been almost two weeks since David Nolan had been rescued and returned to his wife Katherine. So, after getting resituated, Katherine had thought that it would be a wonderful idea to throw him a "Welcome Home" party to celebrate.
Emma, with Regina's shocking permission, was being allowed to take Henry to the party. Apparently, even with her imagination, Regina had to admit that it was almost impossible for Emma to get her son into trouble at a party she was also attending.
It was something Emma couldn't help but laugh at. Clearly, Regina didn't understand how this relationship worked. Henry was the instigator.
Emma had been hoping that Mary Margaret would go with them, so that she at least had one person on her side, but when the blond asked, the older woman had muttered a lazy excuse about laundry.
So, that's how Emma found herself alone and at the mercy of her brother's rather insistent tirade. Apparently, in the story book, Prince Charming had ended up betrothed to a woman named Abigail. Not that Emma had asked.
"He didn't really love her!" Henry insisted. "That's the thing. He got stuck in this huge thing with King Midas, her father, and he had to agree to marry her even though he believed in true love. It's all because he was a fake Prince Charming anyway." Henry nodded to himself, as though all of this made perfect sense.
Emma's brows scrunched up in confusion. "What's a fake Prince Charming?"
"Okay. I'll explain it. It's not that complicated," Henry said. "A long time before Snow and Charming met, this other king, King George, couldn't get an heir and called up Rumpelstiltskin and was like, 'Hey, Rumpelstiltskin, I need a baby, can you bring me one?'"
Emma smiled at her brother's retelling. "Rumpelstiltskin trafficked in babies?"
"Yes," Henry nodded. "For a price."
"Good to know."
"And so Rumpelstiltskin took one boy from this family of shepherds and made a deal and gave the baby to King George, and that was who grew up to be Prince Charming."
She tried her best to keep up with Henry's twisted tale. She had told herself, that no matter how wacky his ideas may have seemed, that she would listen. Her stay at Storybrooke had been anything but normal, and while she wasn't ready to dive head first into Henry's Curse Theory, she would try and keep an open mind. Goodness knows, nothing made sense here.
When they finally reached the Nolan's house Emma felt a nervousness overtake her. The last time she had seen Mr. Nolan he had been bloodied and half-delirious. But, the most unsettling part of the whole experience had been the uncanny resemblance she had noticed between them. When she had seen his blue eyes, it had been like staring into a mirror.
She had done her best to avoid him after that, to the annoyance of her brother. The man hadn't been in his right of mind when he had met her the first time, so she doubted he had noticed any of their similarities. She was afraid, but of what exactly she wasn't sure. Was she scared that he would notice or that he wouldn't?
Her anxiousness is what lead to them huddling in the corner of the living room by the staircase, isolated from the rest of the party. From their little alcove, she watched Mr. Nolan, stumbling in to some people, trying but failing to seem casual. If the situation wasn't so personal, she might have laughed.
Henry followed his sister's eyes to their father. "You know why he can't remember?" He let the question hang in the air for a moment before answering. "The curse isn't working on him yet. The amnesia is preventing the curse from replacing his fairy tale story with his fake memories. We just have to get him to remember that he's–"
"He's Prince Charming." Emma finished.
Henry smiled, hopeful at his sister's recent involvement. "Exactly. We just have to jog his memory by getting him and Miss. Blanchard together."
"Excuse me?" Emma froze at the vaguely familiar voice. She turned slowly and found David standing there. His stance was a little awkward, but the warmth in his smile was real. "Can I take your coats?"
The siblings handed him their coats expecting it to be the last time they saw him but were pleasantly surprised when he came back. "You're the ones who saved me right?"
Emma's eyes widened. "Oh… uh, I mean–"
"Yeah, that was us." Henry confirmed, saving her from becoming even more of a stuttering mess.
David nodded, a small smile gracing his face and Emma tried not to think about much it looked like Henry's. "You're also the only ones I know here."
"You can hide over here with us, if you want." Emma offered, nodding to her and Henry's corner. "If you don't mind spending your night with a couple of kids."
David smiled, relieved, "Honestly? That sounds perfect."
A man passed with a plate full of mini pigs in a blanket and David stabbed one with a toothpick. Henry watched in awe.
"Have you ever used a sword?"
Emma felt her own appetizer get stuck in her throat. She coughed, trying to imagine what the heck her brother was thinking.
David, however, didn't seem offended, thank goodness. He politely denied ever picking up a sword before turning to Emma. "You live with Mary Margaret, right? Do you know if she's coming tonight?"
The blonde suddenly found herself very uncomfortable. "Uhh, no, she couldn't make it. She was busy."
David watched her closely, something familiar tugging at his gut. Something about the way the blonde's nose scrunched up… isn't that what he did when he lied? "Oh." His eyes continued to watch her. "Well, pardon me for asking but I heard around that you've just recently moved here."
What a nice way of saying that he had heard the town's gossip about how she was evading the police.
Emma nodded, "Yeah, I've only been here like two weeks." This seemed to only draw confusion from him, "Is something wrong?"
His head snapped up, having realized he had spaced out. "Oh, yeah, sorry. I think I should go check on Kathryn, make sure everything's going okay."
Emma could only blink as he all but fled the scene.
Apartment 104 – Mary Margaret Residence
November 7, 2011 – 8:35 PM
The rest of the party had been rather boring. Apparently, Mr. Nolan had all but vanished about half way through. Regina thought it best if everyone made their way home to allow Kathrine to go find him.
When Emma finally made it home, she found Mary Margaret abusing the kitchen with a scrubbing pad. "Hey, Mary Margaret… Watcha doing?"
"Dishes were just piling up…"
"Mhmmm…" she hummed, pushing herself up so that she was sitting on the counter next to the sink. "This wouldn't have anything to do with… oh, I don't know, a certain runaway coma patient, would it?"
The older woman dropped the pan, spraying them with soapy water.
"We just, uh… He just…"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mary Margaret I was just messing with you." The blonde insisted, trying to pull the bubbles off her hair. "I really didn't mean to be pushy, I'm sorry." She added the last part quietly.
Mary Margaret smiled, but it was empty. "No, it's alright. To be honest, I think I was waiting for someone to call me out." She turned to face Emma and it was the first time the younger girl had noticed the tears in her eyes. "This all just… this all feels so… feels so wrong."
"Maybe it's the curse," Emma offered, but it was half-hearted at best.
A tear fell down Mary Margaret's cheek and Emma felt very inadequate. "And now look at me!" she chuckled darkly, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm dropping all my problems into the lap of a sixteen-year-old."
With that, Mary Margaret collapsed onto the couch.
"Mary Margaret…" Emma whispered, joining the other woman on the couch. "I know that we've only just met, but I know that you're a great person, one of the best people I have met in my entire life. If anyone in this world deserves to be happy, it's you." A gut-wrenching sob tore out of Mary Margaret's mouth. "Oh, no, I-I'm sorry, I'm really – I'm really bad at things like this. I should have just kept my mouth shut, I'll just–" but before Emma could make her escape, Mary Margaret pulled her into a tight hug.
"Emma…" Mary Margaret said, sighing into the blonde's shoulder, "that was perfect."
And Emma couldn't stop the small smile from forming on her face.
224 Gold Lane – The Nolan Residence
November 7, 2011 – 10:50 PM
David stared at the picture in front of him.
When he had returned home, Kathrine was almost inconsolable. At first, she had screamed at him for leaving without saying anything, but after a while the anger died down. For a while they just sat there in silence, neither one knowing what to say to the other. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Kathrine stood abruptly.
"Pictures," she blurted, turning to face him. For the first time since he had gotten back to the house, her face lit up. "I've got pictures of us upstairs. Let me go get them."
So, that's how he ended up with a large cardboard box in front of him filled with pictures he didn't remember taking of moments he didn't remember having, while his wife looked on hopefully.
"Your hair!" Kathrine laughed when caught sight of the photo he was currently holding. "Oh wow, I haven't seen it like that since college. You used to have it down to your shoulders, but after you graduated, I finally convinced you cut it all off." She winced at the memory, "It was just all over the place, and not at all appropriate –"
"So, we never had kids?" David asked suddenly, cutting her off.
Kathryn's eyes widened until they resembled that of an owl.
David bit back a curse and wondered if he had always lacked tact.
"Um, no." His supposed wife finally answered. "You always wanted kids, but I –" she paused, her face becoming more somber. "That's actually what the argument was about, the night you left." Her voice cracked, recalling the painful memory. "You pleaded with me to think about having one, but when I said no… you left."
There was another pause, but this time David was thankful. It gave him some time to try and come to terms with what he had just discovered.
"Why…"
David's head whipped around. "What do you mean?"
Kathryn sighed, "I mean, what made you bring this up?"
A memory of a megawatt smile and angelic features flashed behind his eyelids. "I'm not quite sure… a feeling, I guess."
"Well, I think I'm going to turn in for the night." Her earlier excitement now gone. "When you're done going through the photos, you are more than welcome to join me."
Kathryn gave him a little peck on the cheek before retreating up the steps.
"This isn't right."
Storybrooke Sheriff Station
November 8, 2011 – 4:10 PM
It had barely been half a month, but Emma was finally beginning to feel a part of Storybrooke. And if she was being completely honest with herself, that scared her. She had never really had anything to lose before, not like this. Not like Mary Margaret, Henry, and a slowly growing list of others.
The Sheriff – because Emma refused to call him Graham no matter how many times he whined – had been nothing but great. Almost suspiciously so, Emma thought wearily. When she arrived at the station, he had cleared her a little spot on one of the extra desks and began regaling her with stories of who the main troublemakers were along with other tidbits of information, such as longstanding feuds between various residents.
He was trying, at least, the blond had to admit. Like today, for instance, the Sheriff had brought in a box of donuts.
He dropped them onto her desk with a flare, before plucking one out for himself. "Sometimes…" Graham said, savoring the bite, "clichés are true."
Emma laughed, but before she could respond, Mary Margret's anxious form flew through the doorway.
"Emma!" she turned to Graham, "Do you mind if I talk to Emma for a minute?"
The sheriff looked between the two women and snagged one more donut before turning around. "I'm just going to go patrol my office."
"Is everything okay Mary Margaret?" Emma asked, concerned. She had rarely seen the older woman this worked up.
Mary Margret waited until she heard the Sheriff's office door shut before sagging into one of the chairs. "David left Kathryn." She gushed, "He did it for me and I'm meeting him tonight. I just didn't want you to be concerned when you didn't see me at the apartment tonight."
Emma's eyes widened, her mouth opening in shock. "Whaaaaaattt," she said, placing her donut back on the napkin. "Dude, that's like something out of O.C."
"What?"
Emma shook her head. "It's a TV show. Never mind. Why tell me?"
"Well," Mary Margret sighed, "Given her new friendship with Kathryn, I don't think Regina will be happy. I just don't want this to negatively affect you and Henry's relationship."
Emma smiled, "Go get your Seth."
Mary Margaret jumped up, her excitement renewed. "I have absolutely no idea what that means, but okay!"
Storybrooke Mainstreet
November 8, 2011 – 7:45 PM
David set out for the toll bridge, map in hand. He hadn't even made it halfway down main street before a familiar voice called out to him.
"Mr. Nolan?" David startled, turning around and saw the Mayor had stopped a few feet behind him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I was just heading home from work and I saw you. Are you lost?" she asked, motioning towards the map in his hands.
David winced, "That obvious? Yeah, I'm looking for the Troll Bridge."
Regina's smile strained, "You mean the Toll bridge? Where you were found?"
"Uhh, yeah, sorry," the man blinked, "it just slipped out."
"Trying to jog your memory?"
"No," David shook his head, "I'm meeting someone."
"I see," the disdain in her voice was almost palpable. "I don't suppose I can convince you to change your mind?"
"I can't change how I feel."
"No, of course not. Walk down this street to Mr. Gold's pawn shop. You'll find a fork in the road – go left. It'll take you to a hiking trail that leads directly to the bridge."
David smiled. "Thank you for understanding."
Regina's smile returned. "Good luck, David." She watched him head down the street. "I hope you find what you're looking for."
David followed the Mayor's directions to a tee but somehow, he wasn't surprised when he didn't find a fork in the road. He got a feeling that his wife's new friend made a living out of half-truths. He sighed, turning to the old pawn shop. Maybe someone in there could give him actual directions.
"Hello?" He called, entering through the door. "Is anyone here?"
There was no response.
'Great.' David grumbled, he was going to be late. He turned to leave and hopefully find someone else to give him directions when a light caught his eye. Upon further inspection, he found that it was the sunlight from the window reflecting off of a crystal unicorn – a crystal unicorn that was dangling off of a mobile. Something about the object captivated him.
"Daddy,"
David straightened.
"Come on Daddy!"
He whipped around, searching for the voice.
A giggle echoed off the walls. A puff of curls.
He grabbed his head, the voice becoming louder and louder until –
"Charming."
David turned, in a daze, and found an older man staring down at him with interest.
"Charming, I love you."
"W-what?" he panted, struggling to breathe.
"The mobile," the old man clarified, nodding in its direction. "Isn't it charming?"
"Charming, this mobile is beautiful."
"Where did you get this?" David demanded, eyes still locked on the mobile.
"This old thing? That's been gathering dust for…forever."
A dull pain began to hum behind his eyes. "This is mine."
Mr. Gold paused, seemingly taken aback by David's words. "I'm sorry? Mr. Nolan, I think you might be confused."
But the thing was, David Nolan was not confused. For the first time since he had woken up things were perfectly clear.
He blinked, straightening. "I'm sorry," he apologized, "It's beautiful, but I was actually looking for the Tro-Toll Bridge. The Mayor said there was a fork in the road by your shop, but–"
Mr. Gold nodded, understanding where this was going. "It seems Miss Mills has led you astray."
"Yeah," And Gold noticed the way his face hardened at the mention of the Mayor. "yeah you would think the Mayor would know her own town."
Gold nodded, perturbed. "One would think." He smiled, "Out of the door, turn right, two blocks you'll find a trail. Can't miss it."
David nodded. "Thank you."
"You know," Gold called out, "I've got some other things that you might be interested in." he said, motioning to a collection of windmills.
"No… there's only one thing I'm interested in at the moment."
Gold blinked, "Are you sure?" he pushed.
David turned and gave a charming smirk. "Oh, I'm very sure. Thank you again for the directions."
He took one last look at the mobile before leaving.
Gold watched him in contemplative silence.
224 Gold Lane – The Nolan Residence
November 8, 2011 – 9:28 PM
David closed his hands into fists. He didn't have any other choice – he didn't. There was too much at stake. This was going to take some thought.
Apartment 104 – Mary Margaret Residence
November 8, 2011 – 11:48 PM
Suddenly, Storybrooke didn't seem so sleepy anymore, Emma snorted. Affairs! Hidden secretes! Intrigue! She wasn't lying when she said it was like her own personal Newport Beach.
Mary Margaret had called her an hour ago and told her that she was going to be home late that night. She hadn't been very forthcoming about what had happened at the troll bridge. Though, if the teacher's voice was anything to go by, it hadn't been good.
In fact, there was a lot of information that sixteen-year-old Emma Swan wasn't privy to. That, perhaps, had she been an adult, might have picked up on. However, that wasn't the case; and as much as the blonde liked to argue against it, she was merely a child. And in an adult's eye, a child needn't worry about such things.
For instance, Emma didn't know that Mary Margaret had headed to the bar after her heartbreaking meeting with David; that she'd had more to drink in those four hours than she had in the last six months combined; and she didn't know that Mary Margaret had found something else to occupy her time.
The young girl was worried about Mary Margaret but figured that giving her space was the best thing to do at that point. She tried to wait up for the older woman, but only managed to make it through three episodes of the office before passing out on her bed. She didn't know that Mary Margaret wouldn't be coming home that night.
She also didn't know that somewhere, on the other side of town, Graham was sleeping in the Mayor's bed.