Emma stared at the ceiling all morning, which really was only two hours. By the time five came, she felt restless and worn, unable to focus on anything important. It was the fault of no one but Gold. She was sure it was wrong to pray for someone to go to hell, but next time she saw Mother Superior, she would ask the nun to put in a word for her. Where did Gold get off with the right to even speak Graham's name? Emma wasn't sure what would have come of her relationship with the former sheriff, but it could have been love, she knew that. One kiss, and he was gone. That spark, that brilliant, all-consuming, eye-opening flash of recognition, that was all it took for him to be that much brighter; then that star was snuffed out by the darkness. A heart attack. That was it. No one to hurt for a murder, nothing to blame for the loss, not even herself. All she could do was scream at the sky and ask questions that would never have answers. In a world so horribly unforgiving, you would think heroes would have the right of way, but it was just the opposite. The best were always the first to fall in a long war. And Graham had most certainly been the best. Who was next, Mary Margaret? Who would stand in the way of her battle against Regina and die? Graham's death had been out of her control, but that didn't mean Kathryn's or anyone else's would be. Who next? Kathryn might still be alive, but she wouldn't know unless she cracked the case.
Getting out of her bed with a firm determination, Emma dragged herself downstairs. Mary Margaret wasn't up yet and probably wouldn't be for at least another hour. Walking through the kitchen, all the reds and greens burned her eyes. Mary was more into festivities than was healthy. The whole loft was decked out in Christmas. . . well, everything. The only way Emma had gotten her friend to stop shopping was by reminding her that they had the worst, most strict landlord in existence. That meant they had to skip buying coffee for the apartment; Granny's only.
Grabbing her keys after taking a shower, Emma threw on her jacket and trudged down the stairs to her waiting Bug. It was now six thirty-two, plenty of time to grab a coffee at the diner and make it to the station an hour early. Regina definitely wouldn't be able to say anything about her commitment now, that was for sure.
When she reached the diner, her eyes were only slightly more focused than they were when she woke up. Emma groped for the handle of the door and then drooped into a stool at the bar. There were seven other people in the diner: Mother Superior waiting for her coffee or tea or whatever, a little girl and boy sitting in the middle booth behind her, a couple chatting away blissfully before work, and two large men clad in plaid in the corner booth talking about a nice deal they got on something or other.
Emma looked up to find Ruby and spotted the waitress talking to the couple, " -azy don't you think? Vandalism? Here?"
"Y'know, vandalism is a crime I can bring people in for. Was it Leroy again? I don't even want to think about what he did to the water fountain the last time I picked him up," Emma grimaced.
"I don't think it was Leroy this time," Ruby mused as she drifted closer to the sheriff, "It just looked like someone smashed something. I saw it when Granny signed me up for the clean up crew. One of the wooden tables, I think."
"Hmm. Anyone really worried about it?" Emma inquired.
Ruby looked thoughtful for a second, "No, I don't think anyone really cared. It happened after the festival, so no one knows who did it."
The waitress shrugged and readied her pen and pad for Emma's order. She asked for a coffee and muffin, just like she usually did. Her eyes kept straying back to the two children happily talking and laughing behind her. The couple seemed oblivious to them, and the men certainly didn't know them. Maybe they were just getting some hot chocolate before school.
"They're here every morning," Emma jumped when Mother Superior spoke.
The nun had come closer, also observing the children. She looked as though she was worried, but there was something slightly off about it. Her face was pinched in something akin to empathy, but her eyes rang out with indifference. Emma didn't have anything against them, but she didn't really trust nuns; it was just a feeling she got.
"I was hoping you would pray about something for me," Emma directed the nun's attention to her, "'Cause of, you know, you're special connection to. . . Jesus."
"What would you like to pray about, child?" Mother Superior asked politely, making Emma cringe.
"For God to make a special place in hell for Gold."
Emma thought she heard something like "there's already one" but she couldn't be sure. The nun looked away quickly like she might ask for Emma not to tell God she said that. The sheriff smirked, suddenly thinking about Gold in church, praying not to be burned at the stake by angry tenants. If he ever set foot in a church, holy lightning would probably descend from the heavens and strike his horn-laden head. No one could be a more accurate devil than him. Her fingers started tapping against the bar involuntarily as she began humming. The devil went down to Storybrooke, 'cause he was looking for a soul to steal, many desperate souls he hooked, and all of 'em wanted a deal.
"Here you go," Ruby handed Mother Superior a to-go cup with a smile.
"Thank you," the nun muttered and then hurried out of the diner.
"With the way she runs, you'd think the devil's after her," the waitress cocked her head to the side.
"Depends which devil you believe in," Emma muttered.
Surprisingly, Ruby actually heard what she said, "Yah, lucky we raised enough money, or the Gimpy Imp would be cackling right now."
"Regina cackles, I think Gold would be more of an evil giggler," Emma snorted.
"A giggler? I'd like to see a video of that," Ruby laughed, then they both cringed, "Never mind."
"So. . . the kids come here every morning?" Emma stuck a thumb over her shoulder.
"Yup. From six twenty to seven, like clockwork," the waitress nodded.
Emma bit her cheek, "And they never have an adult with them?"
"Nope. They eat their bagels and leave for school. I think they're in Mary's class. Maybe Henry knows them," Ruby shrugged.
"Huh," Emma pursed her lips in thought.
She watched the kids get up and head for the door. The boy went back for one more sip of his chocolate and the girl said "come on, Chip" before hurting out the door. The boy - Chip? - raced after her with a silly grin. They appeared all right, but Emma didn't want another Ava and Nicholas situation.
"How are things with Gold?" Ruby slid the sheriff's coffee across the counter.
"What 'things'?" Emma growled defensively.
"Woah, down girl. Maybe have some coffee first," the waitress grinned.
Emma scowled, but took a sip of her coffee. It burned down her throat, effectively waking her up. Two more cups, and perhaps her brain would kick into gear. She closed her eyes and thought about how her day was going to go. Her leads were down to none, and the longer she took, the less chance Kathryn would be breathing when she was found.
Opening her eyes slowly, she saw Ruby still staring at her expectantly with a predatory smirk. That girl needed less caffeine and more clothes. Emma would swear on her love of coffee that Whale came into the diner just to admire the view, and she wasn't thinking of the adorable little bushes outside.
"There are no 'things' with Gold. We just have. . . a deal," Emma sighed.
"Is it a give and take deal?" Ruby bobbed her eyebrows, just like she did every time.
"If it's me giving him a punch and him taking the hit, then that is definitely the deal I want with him," the sheriff took another sip of her coffee.
"Come on, he can't be all bad. As much as I hate him, no one can deny he wears those suits better than anyone. And people call me obscene. Have you seen the way he tailors his pants to hug his-"
"Ruby! I do not need to know what you're staring at while he's ruthlessly collecting your rent!"
"Okay, okay. What about that breakfast you had with him?" Ruby smiled.
"Just asking him questions," Emma explained easily.
"M-hmm," the waitress nodded.
"What about you? Got anyone special?" Emma diverted the conversation to a safer plane: one of Ruby's many suitors.
"I've had my eyes on the Stranger," Ruby gave her a sultry smirk, like she was practicing.
"Oh, you mean the mysterious, hunk-of-metal-riding visitor?" Emma raised her brows curiously.
"Oh, you've met him!" Ruby jumped a little.
'Yah, he took me on a well-water-drinking date,' was on the tip of Emma's tongue, but she didn't want to burst Ruby's bubble. The waitress might start spitting in her coffee if she wasn't careful.
"Yup, mysterious writer. A bundle of stubble named August Booth," Emma nodded tiredly.
"Mmm," Ruby hummed wistfully, "I can't wait to get my hands on him."
"Good luck," Emma huffed, "I need to get down to the station."
Ruby confusedly looked at the clock behind her, "No, you don't, it's only seven o'six. You only have to be at the station by eight."
Emma was a little curious at how the waitress knew that, but decided to let it go, "I wanted to get an early start for today."
"Kathryn Nolan case?" Ruby nodded solemnly like she already knew.
The sheriff sighed, "That's the one."
"Any leads?" Ruby seemed to come alive with a new light at the prospect of fresh gossip.
"I'm sorry, but since it's an ongoing investigation, I can't disclose any details beside the concrete statement that Kathryn Nolan is missing," Emma said automatically.
Ruby let her head fall to the side as she surveyed Emma, "Did you practice that in front of a mirror?"
"No."
Emma slapped some cash on the counter and went to grab her muffin and cup. Ruby snatched the money and handed it back to Emma.
"Someone already paid for you," Ruby smiled secretively, and then as a second thought, "For every day up to Christmas."
"Who?" Emma narrowed her eyes.
"They told me not to tell you, but they wanted you to know that you can order whatever you want."
Emma pursed her lips and accepted the money back from the waitress. She had an idea of who it may be. Walking out to her car, she looked down suspiciously at her muffin; what if it was poisoned? She spent a few seconds debating in her head whether or not she should eat it. Emma finally decided to take a bite; it just looked so good. 'At least I'll die happy.'
She drove off to the station - in good health - thinking about what Ruby had said. All the way to Christmas. The date was November thirtieth, which meant she now had twenty-five days of free coffee and muffins. Maybe she and Mary Margaret wouldn't have to worry about rent after all. Perhaps they could just dine at Granny's every night until Christmas.
After Emma entered the station, muffin and coffee both clutched tightly in her hand, she headed straight to her office, hoping she could find someone who knew something about Kathryn's disappearance. There were only so many places to hide someone in a small town like Storybrooke. However, when she opened her office door and set her breakfast down, she saw several things already laying on her desk. A single black rose sat on top of a red velvet box, a card also propped up on it. Emma reached for the card first, checking for a signature; there was only one question in elegant script: Will you punch me, Miss Swan?
Emma frowned, "Well, you deserve it."
She suddenly felt stupid for saying that out loud. Who was going to hear her? There really was only one person this could be from, and she didn't want to see him. It didn't matter if she hated him before, she really hated him now.
"I can't disagree with you."
Emma's back stiffened and she swung around, barely registering a figure before she jabbed at it. There was a grunt of pain, and whoever she hit stumbled backwards into the wall of her closet-sized office.
The figure groaned in pain, massaging their jaw, "You have a strong right hook. I admire that in a person."
Emma flicked on her desk lamp to the sight of a smirking Gold. That jerk. She breathed out slowly, barely restraining the urge to bring her hand to her heart; she already knew it was pounding.
"Oops, sorry," Emma gave him a flat look, "I thought you were someone dangerous."
Gold pursed his lips and gave a quick nod of his head, pushing off the wall. He used his cane to steady himself before briskly moving to stand next to her. That same damned smirk floated across his features as he stared down at her like a smug hawk, ready to devour its prey in one fell swoop.
Not taking his eyes off of hers, he leaned in until he was only a breath away and reached behind her, "Did you see my rose?"
He twirled it in front of her. The dim light from her lamp highlighted the smooth petals of the dark rose as well as the daunting features of his face. She never really realized how sharp the angles of his face were before now. Even smiling, he looked deadly with that slight quirk of his lips, the leer in his eyes, the mischief radiating off of him. That sharp tongue of his could probably talk a nun into cursing in the name of God. Emma could see straight through his soulful eyes to his mind, and yet she couldn't learn a single thing about him. She could see him dissecting her, baring her secrets, invading her mind, and yet, she couldn't truly say she knew anything about the man in front of her.
"I hope you cut your finger on the thorns," Emma muttered.
She could feel his hot breath on her face, making her nose twitch. It smelled like tea and mint, not unpleasant. Emma observed every twitch of his face as he looked at her. He had his mask firmly in place, not betraying even a bit of emotion.
"The black rose," Gold held the flower between their bodies, "symbolizes new beginnings and changes. I would like to apologize for everything I said this morning. Graham was a good man, and I meant neither him, nor you, any disrespect. Sometimes I let my anger get the better of me, and I'm sorry. I would understand if you can't forgive me, or even give me tolerance this time, but I would appreciate it if you would accept my gifts of apology just the same."
Emma was momentarily stunned. For just a little while, he let her see into his eyes without a blockade between them. He was truly sorry, really remorseful. He looked sincere, but she had been fooled before. Still trapped between the desk and his body, she couldn't move away from him like she wanted. Emma swore her heart was pounding hard enough for him to feel, and she needed air.
"Why do you care whether I hate you or not? You don't care that everyone else in this town hates you," Emma snapped.
'Okay, maybe that was a little harsh.' He didn't even flinch, he simply nodded slowly, like he expected her to say that. He looked like he really wanted to say something else, but couldn't find the words. Instead of speaking, Gold merely extended the rose to her. Emma just stared at him with tight lips. He, for the first time, broke eye contact with her to look down at the little space between them. Biting the inside of his cheek, he placed the rose back on the desk and picked up the box instead. Finally taking a step away from her, he opened the box, presenting a golden bracelet with a swan engraved into the center of it. It truly was beautiful with the light from her lamp casting off of it onto her skin, painting golden patterns that changed from second to second, shifting and moving along the valleys and creases of her skin. Looking into Gold's eyes, she saw the pleading in them; he only wanted her to take it. He wasn't even expecting her to forgive him, he just wanted to apologize. She supposed that maybe that wasn't so bad.
Emma took a deep breath before grabbing the bracelet, "Thank you."
"I'm sorry," Gold repeated before placing the open box on the desk and backing away from her completely.
She snapped the jewelry on her wrist, surprised when it fit perfectly. Then again, Gold was observant; she was sure he would have gotten her jean size right, too. He had a smile toying with the corners of his mouth, but he was fighting it back, trying not to be too hopeful about an accepted apology.
"What you did was pretty crappy," Emma scowled, "but it took a lot of courage to come back and apologize for it. I can't say I'll be able to forgive you for everything - blowing me up was rude - but for this morning, consider yourself pardoned."
That smile that had been relentlessly sparring with his face finally won over and almost split his face in half. Emma was sure he was five seconds away from throwing his hand in the air and shouting 'VICTORY FOR SPARTA!'
"Now, don't get me wrong, you're still sketchy as hell, and I can't trust you as far as I can throw you; this does not mean we're allies. I have a feeling that from now on, several things are going to put us on opposite sides of the law, but this. . . this is nice," Emma gestured to her desk and her wrist.
Gold nodded in acquiescence, once more pursing his lips, this time in thought. He let a smile flick across his lips again, though this one looked less enthusiastic.
"I hope you find Mrs. Nolan," Gold tilted his head, "You may not realize it, Sheriff, but Storybrooke is about to become a war zone. Watch your back, and more vitally, the backs of the people you love. In war, love is weakness."
"Are you threatening me, Gold?" Emma snarled.
"No, Miss Swan, I want to help you. When you need an ally, and eventually you will, I'll be waiting," Gold turned to leave, "Regina doesn't leave survivors."
Emma floundered for something to say, at a loss for words. All she could do was watch Gold's retreating back. She quickly regained composure, intent on asking one more question.
"What did she do to you?"
Gold turned around and shot her a dark look, "She has done many things to many people. It's not about what she did to me in the past, but about what she will do to all of us in the future. Mark my words, my dear, there will be casualties. Keep the people who hold your heart close because whether you believe me or not, she wouldn't hesitate to take them from you."
And with that, he left.
{[(/*\)]}
Emma had decided to take a long drive shortly after Gold left. She drove for a while until she found herself at the town line. From there, she figured she would take a walk in the woods. Then, she decided it would be a good idea to look for more clues to Kathryn. It was practically pointless to comb the forest when all the trees stretched for miles. In fact, most of those miles were probably owned by Gold. Maybe he had something to do with Kathryn's disappearance. Emma certainly wouldn't put it past him, but the question was why he would do that. He had nothing against Kathryn, and no reason to do something so obvious. She figured that Gold would have done it much more subtly, which brought her back to Regina.
Emma found herself so lost in thought that when she heard something crinkle beneath her boot, she almost didn't stop. Looking down, she carefully removed her foot from the ground and knelt down. There was an Oreo pack wrapper, smashed into the dirt by a shoe print that was much larger than hers. The sheriff whipped out her phone and snapped a quick picture, looking frantically around for some other clue. There was no sign of a struggle, or even a simple walk in the woods, just a shoe print. It looked to be a few sizes bigger than her boot, definitely a man's, but who? Gold's name popped into her head, but he was a thin, slight man; the shoe prints were far too big. One of Regina's lackeys, perhaps? If she went back to the station, maybe she could look through some files and see if anyone had a record or something the mayor could exploit. Regina had to be behind this, she just had to be.
{[(/*\)]}
'Well, that didn't work out.' Emma sighed as she spoke to Ruby over the phone. After getting back to the station and almost being able to eat pre-paid lunch, she was just tired. Mary Margaret had called, Emma had asked for Ruby's help, and the former waitress had muttered something about lemurs. Now, the sheriff was pacing the waiting room of the hospital while walking someone - practically a teenager - through one of the most important parts of an investigation.
"What do you see?" Emma asked patiently.
'I see rocks, and leaves, and trees.'
She bit her lip to keep from snapping, "I mean, anything out of place."
'Oh, right, of course. Um, I - wait! I found something!'
"Great!" Emma would have jumped up from her seat if she had been sitting, "What is it?"
'It - It looks like. . . a shirt, maybe? It's red plaid. Looks kinda like someone tugged it off. The ends are frayed a bit, but it wasn't cut. I doubt Kathryn was wearing a plaid shirt.'
"No, but it sounds like something David would wear," Emma ran a hand through her hair.
'David? I thought you gave him the all clear.'
"Maybe I was wrong. See anything else worth mentioning?"
'Nope.'
"Did you check under any rocks?"
'Give me a sec,' Emma heard a grunt, 'This soil looks disturbed.'
Emma smiled at the way Ruby tried to sound professional. The girl lived in a bubble; it seemed like most of Storybrooke did, really. The worst crime ever committed in this town was probably buying pares instead of apples when Regina walked by. She listened for another minute as Ruby complained about getting dirt under her nails before she finally heard a sound of triumph.
'I knew it! A box!'
"Well, what's in it?!"
'Chillax, just give me a moment. It's a - a-'
Emma heard a gasp from the other end of the line. She called the former waitress's name multiple times but heard nothing except for gagging. Whatever was happening over there, it clearly wasn't going well.
"Ruby? What's wrong?"
'It's a heart!' Emma heard through a shaky voice and what sounded suspiciously like a sob.
{[(/*\)]}
He descended the steps carefully, silent as a cat. Quite a day indeed, so many things done, and so many more yet to do. It had been tiring, really, waiting for the Savior to come break the curse. Several times he had woken, each time with a purpose, whatever that had happened to be. Everything he had planned before was hastily reviewed over and over; there wasn't space for a single miscalculation. That's why he had to be careful with her, the only person beside his son he had room to care about. Miss Swan would certainly make a useful ally, but he had to heed his own warning and make sure to protect his people. If anyone ever found out about her. . .
Rumplestiltskin's cane hit the concrete as he reached the basement, grinning like a maniac. 'If something tragic were to happen. . .' Yes, very tragic indeed. As long as those two buffoons didn't mess anything up - if they follow his meticulously crafted plan - everything would be perfect. No room for a single mistake; it had to be spotless. Every bit of evidence would point to Regina when he was done. She wanted Rumplestiltskin? Well, Mr. Gold was never really there, anyway. Sometimes, he thought she knew, but she never did. Twenty eight years. A 'dearie' here, a flourish of hands there, an imp that was hiding just beneath the surface. Her Majesty believed it to be just like everyone else's little curse-given quirks. Ruby's fascination with red, Mary Margaret's last name meaning 'white', Geppetto's wood working, the crossbow Mrs. Lucas hid under the floorboards of her inn. . . He molded the curse, surely she didn't think he wouldn't let himself fade through every now and then.
He stepped closer still to the sleeping form, wrapped in blankets for comfort. Perhaps Regina never knew he touched the curse at all. The only work she did was name the town and give a few select people 'horrible' fates: the people close to Snow White. He made the sorry little town. Every detail had to be planned, and he did. The colors of paint - except, unfortunately for his own house, Regina did that - the monotonous loop that everyone was stuck in, the names, the memories, everything! The curse filled in the blanks Regina asked for: rip the families apart, keep people away from whatever happens to mean the most to them. She lacked the vision of the bigger picture, though. She could either see the horizon or the fine print, but never both at the same time. She projected misery, and the curse did its own work. Snow White, the fairest of them all, lost one of her most beautiful qualities: her hair. Little Red, child of the moon, was forced to walk around in the most uncomfortable shoes, unable to run free. Personally, he thought she got a rather unfair bargain; whether she realized it or not, in the back of her mind, she was thinking of Peter, disgracing his memory every time her lips met another's. Her virginity, which she had always planned to save for someone she truly loved, was tossed around like a useless sack. Yes, she got more punishment than she ever deserved. Leroy, who prided himself on his work, was too drunk to even see what he was doing half the time. And for him, Regina saved the thin dagger that you would never think would hurt so much, until you were bleeding out. The library: he walked past it every day; it was boarded up and closed, forgotten. Her father's roses: every shade reminded him of the garden they had grown together behind his castle. Her necklace: a gift from her mother, for years condemned to lay in one of his display cases, gathering dust. Her teacup: it was set, forgotten, in a cabinet he never opened, never letting him trace the delicate ridge that could cut his finger if he pressed just hard enough. Her ring: worst of all, it had been dangling from his neck for years, silently rubbing against the golden spinning wheel charm that his son gave him centuries before. Mr. Gold always wore it, though he never knew why. The times he had been Rumplestiltskin, he had known exactly what it was meant to be. In fact, Regina might not have even done that; he had still been wearing it when the curse struck.
Rumplestiltskin stretched his hand out over the unconscious being before him. A once useless pawn, really a drab girl, now so important on his chess board. The Queen wanted her gone, which meant he needed her here. All he had to do was move his next piece.
"Rest well, Mrs. Nolan. I hope your acting skills are up to par."