Popping the first aid kit open, Emma grabbed a handful of alcohol swap packets, ripping open one to dab at the clearly infected scrape on Graham's left palm. He hissed at the contact, but she kept his hand steady with her grip and shot him a warning glare.
"Hold still." She discarded the soiled square in favor of a new one. "Tell me what happened."
"I must've fell or something," he said, disoriented.
Emma found a packet of disinfectant ointment in the kit and squeezed some on his palm, gently rubbing around the liquid-y substance. "That's not what I meant."
"I-I don't know, Emma. I really don't. I just…heard the howling of a wolf and felt the need to find it. Does that make sense?" He winced when she slapped on a bandaged and pressed the edges to ensure it stuck to his skin.
"There aren't any wolves in the area, Graham," she said softly and stepped back, folding her arms.
"I know, but I heard..." he looked at her and sighed, hanging his head. "Doesn't matter."
"It does matter. You can't just take off because you hear a wo-" Emma cut herself short when Ruby entered the office, two white paper bags shoved into a plastic sack looped around her fingers as well as a cardboard drink-carrier securing two beverages. She smiled warmly at them which disappeared instantly the moment she saw the wounds on Graham's palm. Her nostrils flared, and Emma heard her audibly sniff.
"Something wrong?" asked Emma and Ruby shook her head as if snapping out of a trance.
"Just zoned out for a second." She saluted them with her delivery. "Two grilled ham and cheeses, fries and onion rings, and two cookies n' cream milkshakes."
Emma grabbed the lunch order and set it on her desk next to the first aid kit before paying Ruby the bill and a tip. "Thanks."
"No problem." The girl gave a one-shouldered shrug, biting her lip coyly. "So how's August? He's been keeping to himself lately. Only see him at night for a bit."
"He's good."
"Tell him I'm not going to be accepting anymore rain cheques for that drink." Ruby leaned in closer to Emma, dropping her voice to a whisper. "As for a little gossip for the deputy of Storybrooke. It was, like, really early." She waggled her brows. "Madam Mayor had a guy in her car. I saw him when I was cleaning off the patio tables. Super gorgeous, FYI."
"Huh," Emma replied, extremely disturbed Graham was not the one and only of Regina's. Emma tossed a glance over her shoulder to see if Graham heard, but he was too engrossed with his lunch, thankfully.
"Oh, my God! Is that the time?" Ruby looked at the clock on the wall and then her red leather watch, swearing under her breath. "I have to head over to the elementary for the teachers' conference. Granny's catering."
The moment Ruby rushed out of the office, Emma dug into one of the paper bags and pulled out a crispy, yet gooey, buttery sandwich. Graham had already finished his and was plowing his way through his fries. When he finished, he winced and gingerly touched his stomach, confessing in embarrassment, "I think I ate too fast."
"Mmhmm," Emma agreed, nodding. The phone on her desk rang, and she put down her milkshake and fries, wiping her hands before answering. "Storybrooke Police Station, this is Deputy Swan."
"I need you to come by the shop this very moment," said Gold.
Sighing, Emma wiggled in her chair to get more comfortable and readjusted the phone to her opposite ear. "The investigation's still pending. I'm sorry, but there's nothing further I can do right now. What you can do is help me out and give me a list of probable suspects. Others that may have it out for you."
"This doesn't concern that."
"Oh. Is it the hearing?"
"It's not. Just please come over. I…" He paused and she pictured him rolling his eyes and scratching the back of his neck, "may have lead on the missing patient who escaped from the hospital."
Emma frowned. How in the hell did he get word of that? She hadn't issued a public warning or lookout concerning the missing woman. Thinking about it, perhaps she should've. "You have my attention, Mr. Gold. I'll be right over." She hung up the phone and studied Graham's exhausted features. She nibbled on her lips and then put her hands on her hips, saying to Graham, "Go home."
"Emma," he started.
"Go home," she repeated slowly. "A girl scout could take you out, no sweat. I got a handle on this, but I expect you to be here at seven tonight for the night shift, and I expect you to stay put."
"Aren't I supposed to be calling the shots?" he asked, amused, and he reached for her one of her wonky tendrils that got a little too much excitement from the sprint she did in chasing after him in the forest.
She allowed him two whole seconds of touching her hair before realizing her pity for him, thus, the reason why she put up with his accidental brushings, the flirting, and the yearning glances. Yes, she possibly liked him a little, too, and was flattered by his deep, obvious affection for her. But...Henry was the only male she wanted to make time for. Plus, she really, really didn't want to get burned. Curse or no curse, Graham could hurt her. It's what men did.
Emma leaned away from his touch. "Yeah, that privilege has been revoked until further notice. Are you going to argue with me?"
His hand dropped in defeat, and he mumbled, "Wouldn't dream of it."
"Good." She grabbed her car keys and headed to the hallway, calling over her shoulder. "I mean it. Go home!"
"All right, all right. If you're that desperate to be rid of me."
"There may be a chance I'll call you, just to forewarn. I've got to pay a visit to a suspect on a case after I see what Gold has for me."
"I should go with you."
"Tell you what. You go and put in a few hours of shuteye, and I'll call you when I have the suspect in custody ready for questioning. Then you can help me figure out who did some severe property damage at Mr. Gold's."
His features twisted oddly and then he blinked, shaking his head. "Fine, I'll go."
"Great," Emma slowly said, finding his subtle shift in behavior strange. She brushed it off and tidied up the desk, trashing the lunch sacks and wrappers and putting away the first aid kit. A few minutes later, she walked into Gold's shop and saw that he'd swept a pathway in the debris on the floor. She kept to it and stalked towards the man behind the single, remaining countertop that hadn't been broken. He was wiping a long, rectangular case with a cloth. At the sound of something falling that came from the back of the store, his eyes darted to side and then to her.
"Hello, Miss Swan. Thank you for stopping by."
"You have a lead for me," she reminded and rested her elbows on the edge of the counter. Mr. Gold's features went grim and he clicked open the case and turned it for her to see a pristinely polished sword resting in lush, padded comfort. Intrigued, she went to touch it but caught herself right before poking the hilt. "Why the hell are you showing me a sword?"
"Because, dearie," he said, "it's your father's sword."
Regina stepped out of her badly parked car and skimmed the harbor. All the docks were occupied except for the one before her. Her mother mentioned having shielded the ship with bits of magic she'd taken from the Enchanted Forest previous to leaving. Despite Regina's irate feelings towards her mother, she was grateful the woman had some preconceived notion that those of the of Land Without Magic in 2011 North America had very little reason to accept an old world pirate ship docked in a Maine harbor.
Stepping onto the dock, Regina studied the water and the peered up towards the sky, spotting a small flock seagulls circling nothing. She sprinkled a bit of sand off to her left and watched the fallen granules outline a shape similar to a narrow set of stairs. She carefully climbed them and found herself on board the Jolly Roger. She walked the main deck until she saw a declining set of stairs leading to a hallway. She came to a heavy wooden door and opened it, finding the space empty save for a cot-like bed pressed against the wall and a desk neighboring it. She looked over her shoulder before crossing the threshold and heading to the desk. On top of it were several sheets of parchment, a bow, and a half-empty quiver. Everything had a thick layer of dust on it like the room hadn't been used in well over a decade.
The rickety, fragile drawers of the desk were empty and when she closed the last one, she heard the click of a gun behind her. She turned to face Hook, the man clearly upset at her intrusion regardless of their alliance. The two of them, including Cora, had spent almost the entire night and much of the morning in each other's company.
"My apologies, your highness. I don't care for uninvited guests on my ship." he said with his sea service pistol still at the ready.
Regina showed her palms and calmly explained, "My mother hid something of mine on this ship."
His eyes travelling her form. "I've been allies with your mother longer than you. If you wish to have me hand over your possession, then you're going to have to give me an excellent incentive."
"I've offered you money and my help in finding your friend," she reminded, displeased by the possibility of offering this pirate any more than what was originally agreed upon. "And may I ask why is Gold still alive?"
"He wasn't in his shop, but I left a gift and stole a few. Not to worry." Hook's gaze swept the room, and he clenched his teeth. Out of all the cabins and rooms, she picked this one. He gestured at her with the pistol and guided her out of the room. A few moments later, they were in the captain's quarters. As he fiddled with the dial on his safe, she sneered at the lack of light and the musty, wooden, salt smell.
"Where's my mother?" she asked, coming to the conclusion Cora was not on the ship.
"If she's not at your house, then I haven't the faintest," he said, grim. Where was Cora, indeed? He opened the safe and pulled out the box he placed there the night before. He walked over to the table in the middle of the room and set it down. Regina went to grab the box and scoot it closer to her but flinched when the bastard of a pirate slammed his hook on the cover. "If you fail to find Baelfire, perhaps there's another you could search for me. She is from this realm which may be easier on you, I suppose. Swear to me you will find her and report her whereabouts."
"I promise."
Hook's glare became merciless. He maneuvered the box out of her reach and when she leaned forward to grab it, he put the point of his hook at her jugular. With his mouth inches from her alarmed face, he said, "You will not do to me what you did to that hatter who paid a visit this morning. If you dare give me the same treatment, it won't be just Rumpelstiltskin's body being fished from the harbor, your majesty."
"You have my word." Finding some girl with records would be simpler than rewriting a life for a madman such as Jefferson.
Reluctantly, Hook pushed the box back across the table into Regina's awaiting hands. Her eyes became shiny, and she smiled in relief. She swallowed and undid the latch to open the lid. When she did, her joy melted away and a tear managed to escape down her cheek. "It's not here! What did you do with it?"
To see for himself, he rounded the table and peered into the case, a sensation of annoyance and a bit of anger settling in his chest. He scoffed and said, "Cora must've taken it."
"Where is she?!"
Hook exhaled sharply. It wasn't the missing heart that had him upset, though he sympathized in his own way. "I think we both know the answer to that question."
Regina cupped her stomach and panted heavily. She paced the room for a short while and then stopped abruptly. Eyes red from tears but furious nonetheless, she snarled. She shook her head and spat, "The dagger. She's going to use the heart to help her get the dagger. Why can't she understand it's worthless."
"It's not everywhere, your highness."
"Unless she's procured a way back-"
"She has," admitted Hook.
"You have another magic bean?" she asked, incredulous.
"The wardrobe that supposedly sent your beloved savior to this realm."
Regina's wrinkled her forehead, and she stepped closer to him. "You brought that."
"A piece of it. We restored its power from the water of Lake Nostos."
The woman clenched and unclenched her fists. For a moment, she looked betrayed, even defeated before removing that look from her face. She then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "Consider your alliance for my mother terminated as of immediately. You're working with me now and since I can't trust you'll behave in the presence of Rumpelstiltskin...My mother is with him now, I know it." She pinched her chin, thinking. "She'll be milking a dry cow. He won't...can't remember who he actually is."
"Doesn't he?" Hook questioned, dubious. He walked back to this safe and extracted two items, a shawl and a chipped teacup. He inwardly smirked when seeing Regina's eyes narrow in on the latter. He held it up and rotated it tauntingly. "I discovered this peculiar trinket in the safe in his shop. It's not part of set and couldn't possibly fetch a worthwhile price with such a flaw. As for the shawl, it's worn and frayed. It's been cared for, but centuries have pecked at it mercilessly. Mmm." He studied the familiar craftsmanship of the material and made a plausible assumption. "I believe this belonged to his boy."
"He has a son?"
Hook returned the items into the case and closed it. "That's neither here nor there. If you truly want the heart back, we mustn't waste time. I must ask, though. Does it belong to your boy?"
"You think I'd take my own son's heart?" she sputtered, both disgusted and infuriated. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. I can't take hearts here." She shook her head, glowering. "I can't put them back either. This heart is from someone before, and it's none of your business who."
She fished her keys out of her coat pocket and started towards the exit. "Rumpelstiltskin's not going anywhere. You can wait a little longer and make yourself useful another way." She sniffed and climbed to the main deck, Hook following behind her. "The poison is in my kitchen in a pot. Take this." She fished a small vial from the pocket of her cat. "And go to the police station. You can't miss it—it's on Main Street. She's aggressive and strong and slippery. She can weasel her way in and out of impossible situations without breaking a sweat. Don't be fooled by her looks."
"A lass after my own heart," he said, grinning and waggling his brows. "Perhaps my powerful talent in persuasion will be enough for her to partake of the Sleeping Curse."
"She's not stupid," Regina said.
Hook accompanied her to her vehicle and when she opened the door to get in, he said, "What does she look like? To be sure I get the right girl."
"She's blonde," Regina said vehemently, shrugging, as if that one description alone was enough to succeed in his endeavor. She must've noticed his bemused expression, for she unhelpfully elaborated by adding, "You can't miss her or confuse her with anyone."
The water rippled gently from the brisk, light wind catching in tunnel of the well. Emma stared down it and beside her on the ledge was the bottle of True Love from which she extracted from the dragon. Gold—Rumpelstiltskin, for the love of God—promised her if she defeated the dragon, she'd receive the Plan B (so-to-speak) in breaking the curse. The man hadn't wasted any time with pleasantries, hastily and vaguely explaining he remembered his life from the Enchanted Forest, and she mustn't run around confused on how to break Regina's curse when he came to this realm prepared for her tardiness.
Gold had been startled but overall pleased of her quick acceptance that Storybrooke was a genuine novelty and Regina was definitely the Evil Queen. He offered Emma her father's sword in obtaining what he secured so many years before, and as she peered down into the well, hesitant and pensive, she wondered if perhaps she should've lingered in Gold's shop a little longer and ask how in the hell he knew about the missing psychiatric patient.
God, there were so many questions. The missing psychiatric patient wasn't even at the top of the list. Everything just became real. All over again like when she was sixteen and taken to Neverland. Like shoving a knife into Peter Pan's heart, and he smirked at her.
Emma needed to throw the True Love potions into the well. Gold claimed it would break the curse, but what if it didn't? In the shop when he was explaining jack-shit to her, her mind blanked at the mention of a way to break the curse. She foolishly focused on that and only that, thinking of saying hello and bidding farewell to her parents as well as getting the hell out of town with Henry all secured and cozy in the back seat of her Bug.
Droplets of icy rain fell from the sky, and Emma shivered. She'd take Henry somewhere warm.
Picking up the bottle, Emma suspended it over the ledge and wondered if she was making a huge mistake by taking the easy way out by gobbling up Gold's words. The fairytales she knew and his brief excerpt in the Once Upon a Time pained him as an untrustworthy creature, one who was out to make a deal to a party who couldn't hold up their end of it.
Well, it hadn't been that easy. She was nearly ripped to shreds by a dragon. And she hadn't made a deal. Gold handed her over Prince David's sword in faith she'd succeed and break the curse.
God, she was psyching herself out by overthinking everything. She didn't know what else to do but go on Gold's word. There wasn't another option. She did what August had said and believed this town arrived to this realm by a curse. She believed her parents were fairytale characters for Christ's sake. But how to break the curse, she just didn't know. In stories, curses broke by True Love's kiss, and she didn't have one.
"I should call August," Emma mumbled, holding the True Love potion to her chest. She thought of Henry, and her breath caught in her throat. The hearing and the baggage following it wouldn't have to happen if the curse broke. She could finally, and rightfully, take him away from Maine. Boston would be out of the question, as well. It was too close to all the nonsense. Magic was dangerous. Something she discovered true and consequential in Neverland. It came with a price as Neal had said often.
"Okay," she said, sighing deeply and closing her eyes. She loosened her grip and let the bottle fall, only opening her eyes when hearing the splash. Her brow furrowed when seeing a gradual, billowing smoke erupt from the well. It spilled over the ledge and touched her legs and hands, making them tingle. Soon the smoke churned and thickened. She backed away in apprehension, comparing the wave of magical energy she read about in Henry's book to what she was witnessing before her. She inched further away and then broke out into a run towards her Bug at the cabin where she and August once stayed. The potion had not broken the curse and in her ten minute sprint, she accepted she was a moron and Gold was ass. She also accepted that she was going to grab Henry and bolt. Everyone else in the entire universe, including all the realms, could go to hell.
The messy-haired brunette stared earnestly at Regina from her position in Gold's bathtub located in the apartment above the store. Belle. She was curled on her side like a fetus, with her wrists bound at her stomach and a scarf tied tightly over her mouth. Her blue-eyes were bloodshot and wide from pain and fright. Blood flowed freely onto her hospital gown from the oozing, open wound where her left pinky used to be.
Graham stood by the tub, a bloodied chopping knife in his fist waiting for Cora's order to inflict more damage. Regina recognized the knife. She'd given it to Graham in a set for Christmas a decade ago, hoping he would take up cooking rather than rely on Granny's takeout and the pharmacy in town for his meals and snacks. She'd also given him a cast iron skillet and other kitchenware, but that was hardly the point now.
Regina stood at the threshold of the bathroom in Graham's apartment, and she flinched when feeling her mother rest her chin on her shoulder. Her mother nuzzled her hair and inhaled deeply before saying, "This one's just not having a good day."
Cora meant Belle, Regina was sure of it, but from the weathered appearance of Graham and Gold-the latter sitting on the former's bed behind her and her mother—it could've been any one of them.
Regina closed her eyes and calmed her nerves. "All I want is the heart, Mother. If you want to torture this woman, do it with your own hands."
"In this new attire you lent me," Cora said, chuckling. "I don't think so."
"He is not your toy!" Regina seethed, shirking her mother's touch and whirling around to stare at her. From his powerless position on the bed, Gold attempted to make eye contact with her, but Regina was not an idiot. At that moment, Gold was weighing his options, trying to decide the lesser of the two evils, even though both she and her mother were at the top of his To Kill list. One wanted his dagger and was willing to slice into Belle for it. The other locked said woman up for over twenty-eight years and made him believe she was dead.
"Just yours. Right, Regina?" said Gold, his grin murderous and strained.
"Shut up!" Regina hissed, and she cocked her head to the side. "How long have you remembered, Gold? Certainly not this whole time."
"It hardly matters now," Cora said, frowning. "Where's the dagger, Rumpel? Tell me or this darling girl will lose another finger."
Gold gripped his cane and used it as leverage to stand. He said nothing as he hobbled over to the window, parting the thin curtain and peering out as if searching for something. Regina furrowed her brow, feeling all her hairs standing on end like a subtle, electrical current was pulsating throughout the room. She marched over to him and looked over his shoulder, her breath catching when seeing a dark, purple originating from the forest billowing towards the town. She backed away and went to grab onto her mother, fully intending of getting them both out of the apartment before the gust of magic hit and Gold was no longer powerless.
Yet, she paused, remembering Cora still had Graham's heart, and the real reason why the woman decided to pay her a visit.
"Something the matter, dearie?" Gold said, baring his teeth unpleasantly. It turned hostile when a blood-curdling scream bounced off the walls of the apartment, and Regina flinched.
"She still has eight more, Rumpel," Cora called out, amused. "My, my. She's a bleeder, isn't she?"
"Pick. Your. Side," said Gold through clenched teeth, his voice barely a whisper. "We fight our war another day."
Regina pursed her lips, licking her teeth and casting her gaze sideways before pinning him with a threatening glare. "If Graham dies, it's over. It will be me looking for your dagger."
Another sharp scream filled the apartment followed by an anguished-filled sob. This time, Regina didn't flinch.
The Evil Queen's son lay in a heap on the pristinely kept kitchen floor of her house, a spilt cup a few feet away from the threshold. Hook reached down and picked it up, assuming the thing must've rolled when the boy made impact with the tile. His stomach then dropped, and he swore, throwing the cup to the side and rushing to Henry.
"Jesus Christ," he cursed again and gathered the lad into his arms. The boy, lifeless and pale, formed against him, his head lolling back and his free arm hanging loose. Hook bounced Henry in arms, hoping the stirring would arouse him, yet the boy's eyes remained closed.
"It wasn't not meant for you, lad." Panic began to settle when he noticed the increasing whitening of the boy's skin and the blue tinge hueing his lips. Hook knew little about Sleeping Curses, but he knew they were supposed to make the victim appear sleeping, not deathly. Resting his ear against the boy's chest, Hook heard nothing. He placed the boy on the island countertop and searched for a pulse, feeling a weak one at his jugular which could only be a teasing echo of a voice long since silenced.
"Shite." He put his right palm on the boy's chest and his hook over that and started compressions. He blew air into Henry's lungs and started again. "Come on, son, breathe."
The ticking of the clock in the kitchen harassed Hook, mocking him by reminding him of how long a person can last without breath. "Wake up, Henry," he ordered. "Think of your mum. She needs you, all right?"
The front door burst open, and Hook heard a woman calling for Henry. It didn't sound like Regina, but who else could it be?
"In here!" he yelled. He looked at Henry and smoothed away the fringe covering his greying brow. Bloody hell, the boy was gone. The Sleeping Curse mustn't have worked. A poisoned apple in this magic-less realm was nothing but that-poison.
The kitchen door swung open, and he shook his head at the boy. "He drank it. I tried…" He sent a rueful glance at the woman and froze, expecting to see Henry's mother but instead saw a blonde woman whose hair fell in lush, thick curls which teased her shoulder blades. On her person, she wore tight trousers and lace-up boots and a red leather jacket.
The savior. Well, Regina had said he'd know her when he saw her.
"I understand your quarrel with the queen," he said to her and gestured to Henry, "but I'd rather not have one with her. This is her boy. He needs care-"
"Hook."
The way she said his name—like she knew him well enough to not feel remorse in ending his miserable existence if she so wanted—caused him to bristle. He looked at her again, taking in her freckled nose and the stern, downward turn of her perfect lips. However, it was her merciless green eyes that forced those reeling cogs inside his skull to click in place.
"Emma?"
A/N: Thank you, readers and reviewers and so on!
They finally have reunited after eleven years. What? You're not thrilled about the circumstances? ;) Did you think she was going to almost hit him with her car like she did Henry? Or better yet, actually hit him with her car? Tell me your thoughts, comments, constructive criticisms, etc, etc. I'd love to hear about them.
