AN: Hello! Please be aware this is very AU. A lot of things have been changed from the original universe to suit my vision. Also, I primarily write novels so it might help to go into this knowing that bit of information. There will be music included through the whole book. It's something that I picked up years ago and haven't ever let go of. I will eventually make a Spotify playlist if this gains enough traction.
Please feel free to comment. Thank you and enjoy!
Music: Thank You - Pvris
Have you ever wondered if a huge mistake was about to change your life for the better or completely fuck you up whether you were ready for it or not? That's how I felt as I dropped the last box down on the floor of my new house and stared out at the precarious mess I had made of my life, everything I owned scattered in hap hazardous piles at my feet. In 3 months I had gone from a girlfriend, a nice apartment in the city, and a dog who would have followed me anywhere, to a cold, dark house in the small town I grew up in and swore I'd never live in again.
"Fuck."
I kicked the door shut behind me, the reverberating thud a harsh period at the end of that story. This was what I had now but at least it was mine. I was never uprooting my life for anyone ever again. It was a one way ticket to temporary homelessness every time.
How long I stood there in the middle of my living room, I had no idea. My mind was in a fog, a million thoughts flooding in every direction, banging off of each other in a rush to make it to their destination. Money, depression, loneliness, furniture, logic, fear, confusion, taxes, bills, oil change, audit report I didn't do before I left work, food, where my third Harry Potter book went, the seam of my socks.
Letting out a frustrated growl that sounded more similar to a whimper than anything, I shoved through the wall of sound and turned up the thermostat to a more reasonable temperature and shucked off my jacket. I didn't have time for an anxiety attack. There wasn't anyone to temporarily guide me through my thoughts. There was just myself and Emma was a shit tour guide.
Graciously, despite my brain misfiring through most of the move, I had thrown my new mattress and bed frame into the bedroom. One glance at my phone had solidified the reality that setting up my bed was priority number one. Time had rushed away from me like the plague, which was ironic considering everything we learned during the late one; the plague ran at you.
The plague had hands.
"Alright, Emma, you can do this."
Far less final and much more like a suggestion.
I fiddled with my phone with cold thumbs and let the foreign space fill with familiar music, drowning out the faint electrical buzz and thundering flow of air rushing through the oversized intake vent in the floor in front of my bedroom door. I would get used to it eventually, I hoped. The house was older and mistreated. I was lucky it was even standing realistically.
"Dramatic much?" I snorted to no one on my way to the kitchen where I had dropped my toolbox. The house was fine- mostly fine? It would do for the time being. Payments were more than reasonable. There was also the reality that finding a property in a town that never seemed to change is that no one ever left and you sometimes had to take what you could get.
By the time my bed was built, I felt more in control than I had in months. Granted, I also felt angrier than I had in months too, which lent itself to the spontaneous need to clean everything I could get my hands on.
It wasn't until I cut my hand on a nail protruding from the wall that I realized the bedroom and the bathroom were as spotless as the house had the capacity to be and was mostly put together. Empty boxes barred access to the living room. I kicked the nearest one. They were a problem for future Emma. My limbs had long since gone rubbery and I was nauseous. Poor eating and sleeping habits had led to not nearly the amount of energy necessary for another manic episode.
After a quick shower in scalding hot water that left my usually pale skin blood red, I fell heavily into bed, the new frame squeaking in protest under its first confrontation with abuse. I didn't even bother to find clothes, instead opting to use the last dregs of energy to crawl under the blankets.
"How - don't eat that! Anyway, I wanted to check on you and see how you were doin'. See if you needed anything."
I couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't uncommon for most conversations with my best friend, Ruby, to start and be interrupted by her yelling something at her 5 year old son- a wild child if I had ever met one. At that moment, I wished she didn't live across the country. It didn't matter that I talked to her every day, sometimes multiple times a day, or sat in Zoom meetings with her every week at work, I missed her.
"I'm alright," I lied, doing my best to keep my voice neutral. Ruby wasn't like other people; she wanted the truth, but masking was hard to break. "It sucks but it is what it is. How are you? Other than your kid eating something he shouldn't."
"I love him to death but that little shit is about to get the cute slapped off his face," she grumbled. I could practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm ready for his dad to get home. Momma needs a break."
"Amen." I slumped down on the edge of my unmade bed, absentmindedly chewing at my thumbnail. There was a mess of books strung out across the hallway in front of me that I had been unpacking when Ruby had called. Where the hell am I gonna put those? I don't even have a couch yet.
"I know you're the stoic type but ya know, you can actually talk to me about what you're feeling." Ruby's voice came through much softer than before. I must have been quiet for too long.
"Yeah but what good does talking about it really do me?"
"Keeping it to yourself ain't really helping anything either though."
"I'm just not in the mood to be angry about it anymore. She made her choice. I made mine. It was for the best." In truth, I had felt it coming for awhile. My ex and I had been growing apart for months before the inevitable end arrived. At least we had parted amicably verses in a blaze of words that no one would ever be able to take back.
"I just- alright. If you're not ready to talk about it yet, that's fine but you maybe should consider letting it out eventually." She was disappointed with me but at the same time, I didn't know why she was surprised by my reaction. I wasn't one to do much of anything on anyone else's schedule but my own. It was some of why I was suddenly back in Storybrooke instead of nestled in my warm apartment in Boston.
I was stubborn at best.
A downright bitch at worst.
"How's work going today?" I interjected, flipping my phone back to click through the company's Slack app. I cleared out unnecessary notifications with the same level of disconnect that one reserved for Facebook exclusively at this point.
"Meh, it's your typical Saturday. Just a few dumpster fires and cancellations. The usual."
"Yeah, I saw the requests this morning. It's every day. If they don't fire him soon, I'm goin' to."
"If only we had that super power."
"He needs to be thankful we don't." I closed the app with a clumsy finger. "I'll probably sign on later for a little while. I have a few refund reports to finish and I need to do a charter audit."
"You need to take time and get yourself settled. You've been in your new house for like, what? A day? You're allowed to be a human again, Emma."
"I still have responsibilities."
"Ever a Capricorn."
"Oh shut it. You're just as bad."
"Hol' up! This ain't about me, Scooter."
There was a squeal in the background followed by a series of bangs that sounded oddly similar to pots and pans hitting the floor.
"Joseph! Imma learn you somethin' real quick if you don't knock it the hell off!"
"Hoverboard?"
"Always the hoverboard."
"Does he at least have clothes on this time?"
"I mean, sorta? A cape and a Master Chief helmet count?"
"'Fraid not my friend."
"Then nope. Ding dong just... swingin' in the wind." Another bang. "Alright, that's enough! You're done. Ya done."
"I'll let you go," I mused, shaking my head as Ruby's full southern accent rolled out. "Holler at me if you need me."
"Okee! Love you, bye!"
"Love you, bye," I mimicked our usual parting, the three words barely a full syllable. I couldn't remember when it had become a thing but there it was every time without fail.
Standing up, I wandered back into the living room, taking in the mess I had created, all of it swimming in pools of sunshine. Why I had decided to buy a fixer-upper was beyond me. Every bit of the house needed some level of attention. The hardwood floors had seen better days. The walls. The doors that all had to be either slammed or shimmed to close. The death trap of a narrow staircase that would inevitably give anyone over 5"9 a concussion. Everything.
In truth, it had grabbed me, a desperate cry for help that I wasn't capable of ignoring no matter how many times I closed out of its listing. The house was just like me; tough but in the need of a little love.
I shivered involuntarily, the action forcing my arm to jerk as I came back to reality. The thermostat read 60. No matter how hard it tried, the house couldn't seem to stay any warmer without running constantly.
With a deep breath of resolve, I grabbed my red leather jacket from the top of a pile of boxes and threw it on, the silk lining stinging through the sleeves of my favorite black hoodie. I welcomed the discomfort; it was grounding. Flipping my hoodie and hair out of the collar of the jacket, I took off into the wall of cold awaiting me outside. This was my life now and even if I didn't want to, I was going to have to start living it at some point.
Outside, Storybrooke was as it always had been, unchanging no matter the amount of time that passed. A road was repaved here and a new porch on a rather rough looking house there. That precariously standing house just a block up from me that was covered in sun bleached blue tarps- how was it still standing? It had caught on fire years ago and most of its innards were still spewed out across the long matted grass. Yet it stood, unwilling to fall.
Storybrooke endured. Come hail or high water.
The trip across town wasn't even enough to warm up the inside of the long since babied VW beetle, my hands tucked protectively inside of my sleeves to keep my bare skin off of the steering wheel and gear shift. Truthfully, I wasn't even sure how I made it into the oversized parking lot of the hardware store. One moment I was in my driveway, the next I was parking in another. I needed to stop dissociating.
I shoved open the door to yet another burst of cold air that seeped into my already trembling limbs. I hated winter. I hated being cold.
Thankfully, the store was warm and pleasantly empty. The cashier was even absent. My shoulders slackened. I wasn't ready for all of the stares I inevitably received when I was home. Granted, it was a small town in the Midwest and I was a card carrying lesbian in black skinny jeans and plenty of visible tattoos. I didn't particularly do a good job of not painting a target on my chest for all to see.
I hurried towards the back where a sign hanging from the ceiling promised products that provided some sort of insulation. I was almost there when a husky voice caught my attention and slowed my sure steps.
Whoever it was, they were singing quietly amongst the sound of items being placed on a shelf. I felt my body gravitating towards them against my will, curiosity too much to fight.
'Ooh, you gave me nothing,
guess the love was all mine
and it's still mine'
Her voice was sexy, raw.
The person it belonged to brought me to a halt. She was shorter than I, her hips swaying slightly to music I couldn't hear as she moved paint cans from a cart at her feet to a shelf. Her dark brown hair fell to shoulders in curls most would kill for, an embodiment of effortless beauty with strong cheek bones and a jaw I would love to cut myself on.
'Thank you for fucking it up.
Thank you for cutting it off.
You're nothing but a bullet that I dodged.'
Her brow furrowed as the music took what could only be a harder turn. The passion radiating off of her was intoxicating, but it was the first time in months my mind seemed to quiet, the restless energy flowing away as if it had never lived in my bones in the first place.
'You never loved me
and my heart still beats without your touch
And so I can't thank you enough.'
She gave the slowest body roll I'd ever seen, hands gripping the shelf as her head fell back to expose a gloriously long neck, sending a shock wave to my core. The jolt kicked my brain back into gear only to floor it straight into the brick wall of imagery that was myself being pinned to the shelf between those olive skin arms, her hips grinding against me instead.
My arm hit an end cap of paint brushes, sending a few of them clattering to the floor. I gasped in shock, eyes darting towards the wildly swinging survivors to the casualties of war at my feet before swirling back up to the woman. I couldn't breathe and the sight of her wide eyes staring back at me did little to help.
They were deep wells of chocolate.
"I'm so sorry," I fumbled, immediately dropping to pick up the brushes, my face burning as I fought to keep my gaze down on the polished linoleum floor.
Then she laughed, a full, genuine laugh. A laugh of what felt like amusement and not one of condescension, calming me all over again.
She was like the best roller coaster ride.
"Don't worry about it. I did that earlier too."
A hand came into my line of vision, nimble fingers wrapping around the last paint brush. Lucky fuckin' brush.
Our eyes connected again, much closer now. Her scent hit me then: apples and something elegant that I couldn't place.
Intoxicating.
Her eyes practically sparkled, amplified by her broad, white toothed smile.
I returned the smile despite myself, pleading that it didn't look as dopey as it felt inside. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only one."
"Never." She winked before putting the brush back where it belonged. "Do you need those or would you like me to put them back for you?"
"Huh?"
She motioned towards my chest.
One quick glance was all it took to realize I was clutching 4 paint brushes to my chest at odd angles like an underfed, over-protective T-Rex.
The blush crept back up my neck. I was uncomfortably warm for the first time in over 24 hours.
"Oh, um, no. I'm sorry." I awkwardly handed them over, trying my best to keep my eyes off of her but also away from the floor. There was a delicate balance between too much time spent staring at the floor and too much time making direct eye contact.
"No worries, hun. Is there anything I can help with?" She stretched out to put the other brushes back, the thin blue and black plaid button up she was wearing riding up her hips. Graciously, the gray, long sleeve shirt underneath was tucked into her dark blue jeans, saving me from the shock of more skin.
Alright Emma, you need to settle the hell down.
"I was looking for spray foam and caulk." I gathered myself, standing up a bit straighter as I yanked on the mask I understood to be that of a normal person.
"Aisle 13 next to the plastic liners is where the spray foam is." She pointed in the direction I had been heading originally with one hand while the other tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. It caught the light effortlessly. I yearned to know what it looked like in the sun. "And the caulk is back towards the front along the side wall. Can't miss it."
"Thank you." I smiled brightly again, begging my body to turn and walk away but my feet were rooted. Everything was unwilling to move, unwilling to break the moment. She didn't seem to notice, her eyes still beaming despite her smile melting into a closed lip version that tugged up on one side.
"Well, have a good day," I finally said, taking a short step back.
"You too."
I turned, but was soon stopped by the urge to selfishly take one more moment. "You have a wonderful voice by the way."
She had only taken a few steps away, AirPod poised to be placed back into her ear. I could see a blush starting to form on her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose.
"Thank you," she murmured softly, suddenly much more shy than she had been moments before.
"You're very welcome." I lightly sucked the edge of my bottom lip in between my teeth to keep from smiling too much. I nodded briefly and hurried away before I could make an even bigger fool of myself.
The calmness the brunette stranger had provided spiraled into a thundering heart and sweaty palms. I wanted to pass out or jump around. One or the other. The energy had to come out one way or another. All I knew was that I was completely, absolutely in trouble. There was no way I was going to be capable of forgetting her, and this was Storybrooke, land of cis, straight republicans. That woman was no doubt straight and either married or well on her way to a white dress ceremony to some bearded man. Even if she wasn't, she was so far out of my league, we weren't even playing the same sport.
I didn't even know her name.
All I knew is that she felt familiar in a way I could not put words to, a sound of bliss, even if it was only for a moment.
She was a rude awakening that I didn't know I needed.
On my way back through the store, spray foam tucked under one arm and a caulk gun swinging in the other, my eyes searched for her, for just one more second of contact but it was like she'd never been there in the first place. As quickly as she had come, she was gone all over again.
"Fuck..."