"And just how do you propose we decide which flat belongs to Baelfire? Ask the shawl to provide us with some sort of sign, perhaps?"
Regina snipes as the three of them stand shoulder to shoulder, each wearing a frown at the realisation of just how many residences comprise the hulking block of brick that looms above them.
Turning to the Queen with an irritable scowl, the pawnbroker sighs and fingers the handle of his cane with out-of-character nervousness.
"Well, we haven't read all the names yet... I'm sure we can find some sort of sense in a possible alias. I-"
"-It's this one."
The blonde interjects, tapping her nail against one of the uniform plastic plaques.
"How did you-?... There's no name. It's vacant."
"No... There's no name because- as you keep telling us- Baelfire doesn't wish to be found..."
"But how would he have preempted that I would come to find him? He-"
"-Your son ran once, Gold, there's a good chance he's made a habit of it."
"That's a rather grand conclusion to make about-"
"-Look. You wanted my help, remember? I could be wrong. Could be your kid's now going by, let's see here, Tom Storie, and is happily listed in the phone book... But, I don't think so."
"It doesn't hurt to try, Gold..."
Regina offers, and she feels a small wave of warmth as the Sheriff gives her a grateful glance; a welcome change from her previous snarling whenever her side had been taken.
The look Emma offers Gold however, is a little more disconcerting.
"What? What is it? Why the face, dearie?"
"Nothing, it's just... He could be anyone... You do understand that, right? Who knows where he came through? When he came through? He might be an old man by now, we don't know. All we know is that he's still alive, or surely the shawl wouldn't guide us... I just... I've told you I don't care what happens with you and your son so long as you leave Regina and I at peace when my debt is paid... But... I was lucky. I searched for my parents for years and- though the situation could possibly be a little less insane- I lucked out, you know? More than I might have hoped for, anyway... I can't ever wish to try and befriend you after... What happened... But I do hope you find what you're looking for..."
"... Nothing can be worse than not knowing. You of all people should understand that."
"Of course I do. It wasn't a warning, merely a statement."
"... Thank you... Now... If you please..."
Gold makes a slow gesture towards the blank plaque and rusted call button the Sheriff had pointed out previously; a silent acceptance of her argument that she knows what she's doing.
Nodding, Emma swallows, before depressing the button to emit a shrill buzz.
Then silence.
A cruel, empty, vast fraction of time that is filled with nothing but the pounding of blood in the ears of each of them.
Then...
"Hello?"
Occupied after all.
And a man's voice, so that's definitely a step in the right direction.
Green eyes flickering hesitantly to Gold, the blonde presses the buzzer a second time; her voice wavering slightly.
"...Baelfire?"
The silence following Emma's tentative utterance is much shorter this time; broken suddenly by the glassy crash of a door somewhere to their left. Turning towards the noise, each spies the thin, distorted shadow of a man cast upon the brick wall of the building beside them as the figure descends the twisted iron steps of a fire escape.
"He's running!"
The brunette breathes, before the three of them take flight and sprint towards the alleyway below the stairs in question.
"Of course he is! Baelfire? What idiocy led you to call him by that name, you stupid-"
"-What else was I supposed to call him?! We know fuck all about him! How would I know what he's calling himself nowadays?!"
"You couldn't have fabricated a story?! Lured him downstairs?!"
"I did lure him down stairs! Just not the right ones!"
The Sheriff snaps over her shoulder, before coming to a skidding halt; dangerously close to running straight into the wire mesh fencing that cordons off the alley from the street. Regina pulls up sharply at her heels, making Gold to be the last to spot the obstacle in their way.
Up above, narrow steps are being made short work of, and when their mark reaches the platform of the second floor, he simply swings himself up over the railing and jumps down to land heavily in the dirt below.
"We can't! We-"
But the darker woman's cry trails off as the blonde springs at the wire fence in front of them and hooks her fingers into its geometrical web to gain leverage.
"I'm on it! You two go round and find a way through without a goddamned fence! This one's got to end up somewhere! Go! Go!"
Her breath comes out in exerted pants, but otherwise she makes quick work of the fence; clambering over the top and springing down onto the other side with surprising agility, before taking off in pursuit of the diminishing footsteps that echo about the brickwork.
Turning to Gold with wide eyes, the brunette barks at him to 'come on' before hurrying down the street in search of a way round to the back of the building; inwardly damning Master Choo and his exquisitely useless shoes.
She finds what they seek half a block down, and by the time she reaches the end of the narrow through-way, she is almost bowled over by the Sheriff who comes streaking past her; Emma dodging her smartly without losing too much ground between herself and the man that sprints up ahead.
"Remember the deal, Swan!"
Gold yells after her, panting; limping in her wake. He comes to a stop, knowing that he has no hope of taking part in the chase, and watches as the Mayor slowly comes to the same conclusion up ahead.
"Damn..."
The darker woman hisses as her breath comes in short, pained gasps. She can blame her heels all she likes for losing her tail on the other two, but she supposes she has always known that if challenged with a physical endeavour, the Sheriff would wipe the floor with her.
Still, she is surprised at the younger woman's speed- not ever having actually witnessed the blonde in full sprint- and she imagines their cause may not be as hopeless as they'd feared.
"And that is why I needed Miss Swan..."
Gold growls as he takes up her side; his awkward gait speaking of pain due to his momentary display of exertion. Regina frowns, rubbing at a stitch in her side.
"Come on, she might need us to help her."
"I'm going as fast as I can... You... You hurry along if you need... Go watch over your lassie, dearie..."
The brunette thins her lips at the vague realisation that- despite his terminology- there is no trace of malice in the little man's words. She imagines that, had it been Emma to hear such encouragement, the younger woman might well have risked a smile or exchange of glance to mark such a moment in time, but she is not Emma, and her vendetta runs true.
"I always will."
Is all she offers, before struggling to find a second wind and running in the direction the blonde had taken.
"Hey!"
The Sheriff yells out as the asshole that seems to be doing his best to wind her takes a sudden right down an impossibly narrow side street without giving her time to anticipate the move.
Using her own cunning, she makes use of the fact Gold had led them traipsing around the area for so long before closing in on their target, and continues towards the next alley to meet her prey head on.
Her tactic works; her mark focused on outrunning the hellishly fast little bitch snapping at his heels, and thus not noticing the sudden change in the maddening thrum of her footsteps.
It isn't until his vision is obscured by a chaotic waterfall of gold that he understands he's been played; his pursuer having ducked into the shadows at the next small intersection to lay ambush.
The thought is fractured- brief- drowned out by the dull pain of his knees making cruel impact with cracked cobbles as his feet are swept from under him.
A low sound of hurt scuffling to his right has him assuming his assailant's tackle may have been a little ill-practiced, as the blonde skids down onto the uneven stones herself.
"Mother fucker..."
An irritable, pained grunt, but pale hands- bloodied at the palms like a robin's breast- brush swiftly over dark denim in a business-like fashion, and the curious young woman is up on her feet again, moving towards him lest he attempt to take flight once more.
"Seriously? You couldn't have at least waited to see if I had something interesting to tell you? I mean, shit, you-"
But her breathless scolding trails off as green eyes widen with hateful recognition that matches the fallen man's own at the familiar cadences of her voice.
"...Emma?!"
"...No."