1. The Prodigal Son
The forest was quiet when the portal opened and spat him out. Birds were silent. Not even the trees were moving.
"Don't be scared of the animals in the forest, lad," his father had told him when a doe had barreled past him one spring. He'd fallen to the ground and cut open his knee. His father sat on a tree stump and cared for swollen limb and said, "You should only be scared if the forest is so quiet that even the animals are scared to speak."
Neal didn't like thinking about his father, but he couldn't deny that his Papa knew how to give advice. He's just rubbish at taking it.
Neal moved away from the portal as it began to close. He heard a noise coming from the distance. People laughed, and the flirtatious squeals of women could be heard alongside the gruff voices of men. It was loud enough that Neal knew it wasn't too far away. As Neal drew closer, he saw what looked like an old inn half-obscured by the tree line. Torch-fire filtered through the sparse trees, helping Neal navigate his path. The sound of goblets clinking together could be heard, and the faint smell of roasting lamb wafted passed.
Breaking through the tree line, Neal took a closer look at his surroundings and tried to make out where (or even when) the portal had taken him. A man walked past, and Neal noticed the sigil of one of the Great Houses of the Enchanted Forest emblazoned on his left breast. Neal racked his brain to remember which one, but considering the familiarity, Neal guessed he was in, or at least close to, the Frontlands where he'd grown up. The fashion of the clothes, however, seemed slightly off, making Neal think they were possibly from after his first departure from the land he once called home. The history of The Land Without Magic told Neal that fashion was a sure-fire way to determine the time period—though, Neal was admittedly not an avid historian back in the land he'd once adopted.
Walking into the village, Neal saw that the inn, not unlike the one in the town Neal grew up in, was broad and tall, looking more like a bunkhouse for dockworkers than a standard inn. The crashing of nearby water told Neal that the place probably held a dual function.
The smells coming from the inn were stronger now and made Neal's mouth salivate. Maybe, Neal thought, I could work there for free in return for food and board… Neal wasn't convinced they would agree, not if he remembered the arrogance and superiority the people of his village had once shown him and his father—but he would be sure to give it a try. After all, I'm here to stay. I'd better learn how to survive this place again.
Neal reached out to open the door to the inn when a scream startled him. He turned in the direction of the cry. His hand dropped from the door, and his jaw dropped to the floor as he watched the cloud of purple smoke inch toward him.
"What is that?" someone shouted.
"Magic," Neal said, not realizing he spoke out loud. He stood frozen, seeing that the purple cloud had no beginning and no end. It was a great mass, and it was coming for him, for all of them, and he had no idea of how to stop it. As the cloud encompassed Neal and the other people at the inn, his last thought was, I fucking hate magic.
2. A World Without Magic
He had no name here.
At least, that's what He told Henry. The boy would often talk with Him as He maintained the public lawns of Storybrooke. There was a tree that Henry liked to read under, and He made sure to keep the grass beneath it short and the leaves trimmed backed so Henry would be comfortable.
Not many people in town had a name, He had told Henry. Mayor Mills, Mr. Gold, Granny, and Ruby at the diner, Henry's teacher Mary-Margret, Dr. Whale, and a few others. But not the smallfolk: the people who kept the town tidy, the people who did the menial tasks for The People With Names, the people who wandered around the town from sunrise to sunset as if on a timer—the people like Him.
When Henry learned all this, he gave Him a nickname. "Leo," Henry said with a fierce determination when he was seven years old. "After my favorite Ninja Turtle."
He smiled at the boy and kept Henry's favorite tree pristine and listened to his stories and, one day when Henry brought a book of fairy tales to his tree, He read Henry a story during His lunch break.
It was a docile life. One that He did not wish for but one that He was content in having. It wasn't until a new woman came to town that He remembered who He was and how He came to be in this tiny town.
"Mom!" Henry yelled, and when He turned around, the woman slapped him across the face.
"Neal," she spat. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
That name—Neal, the name He chose, the name He had carried longer than His birthname—crashed over Him like a tsunami, and all His memories barreled into Him at once. Or maybe it was the way her palm stung His cheek like a flame that knocked some sense into Him.
"Mom!" Henry yelled again, barreling toward Neal and Emma. "Mom, why did you just hit Leo?"
"Leo?" Emma asked, just as Neal said, "Mom?"
3. An Awakening
Emma slapped him again when he told her he'd been cursed. She said nothing when Neal asked if Henry was his. She told him to stay away from her—their—son when Henry tried to vouch for him. She ignored him for weeks whenever she saw him in the square. She looked exhausted when she told him to meet her that evening at The Rabbit Hole to talk. She looked at him strangely when he visibly flinched when Mr. Gold approached them during their interaction.
"What's up with you and Gold?" Emma asked the moment Neal slid into the booth across from her. "He increase your rent or something?"
Neal shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me."
"Try me," she said, eyeing him carefully.
"No," Neal said. "You actually would not believe me. You won't even believe Henry."
Emma's face turned from annoyed to angry when she replied. "You and everyone in this town needs to stop filling his head with crap. Fairy tales aren't real. You're just the man who left me to rot in prison—pregnant, might I add—and I'm not anybody's savior. Got it?"
"My name is Balefire," Neal said. "At least it was in the Enchanted Forest. I was a kid when I left, and when I returned, the whole place got caught up in the curse, and I was carried back here where I've been frozen for twenty-eight years. I mean, look at me. Have I even aged a day since you last saw me? I'm a three-hundred-year-old man in the body of a twenty-four-year-old, my ex-girlfriend just rolled into town, I found out I have a son, and every day I walk into town, I have to see the father who abandoned me walk straight by as if I'm nobody to him." Neal took a breath and, still looking Emma directly in the eye, said: "You got it?"
Emma's face was blank, though Neal noticed it looked paler than before. Her eyes narrowed, and he could tell that she was trying to find the lie in his speech.
She leaned back and said, still scrutinizing, "You've always been a good liar, Neal."
"I was never that good. Come on, Emma. Wake up."
Silence embraced them after that, both Neal and Emma looking at one another, not willing to be the first to crack.
"Who is he?"
Neal's brow quirked at Emma's question. "Who?"
"Your father," she said as if it were obvious. "You said you see him every day. That he doesn't remember you."
Neal sighed. "Can we drop this?"
"And I know you've aged well, but claiming to be twenty-four still?"
"Emma—"
"Oh right, I forgot, you're actually 300 years old. I know your mid-thirties are scary, but that's a bit of a stretch."
"I knew you weren't going to believe me."
"And why should I, Neal? You leave me to take the fall for your crime and fall off the face of the earth only to resurface once I've moved on and am finally content with my life. Do you know how difficult it was to get by with a criminal record and nobody to rely on? Or is that how you get your kicks, getting women to depend on you, then leaving them high and dry?"
"I loved you," Neal said, then amended quickly. "I love you, Emma. I left when I found out about you, about all of this. I was scared."
Emma scoffed. "Scared? Try being nineteen and having a baby in jail after your boyfriend abandons you, Neal, that's scary."
"I don't regret Henry—"
"Neither do I!"
"But I do regret this all turned out. I should have been there for you. I should have realized I could have been enough—that you were enough. I should never have trusted August or let my anger toward my father control me. I should have been strong and less selfish, and I should have ignored everything and everyone and driven the two of us to Tallahassee."
As Neal spoke, Emma continued eyeing her ex-boyfriend, trying to find even the glimmer of a lie. She found nothing. Still, this whole fantasy land he and Henry had concocted… It wasn't true. It couldn't be.
"We can't live in what could have been," she said. "It's been ten years, Neal. Move on. I have."
Neal let out a hollow laugh. "For you, maybe. I just woke up a few weeks ago. In this state, my time in Storybrooke feels like no time at all. I was in the Enchanted Forest for less than an hour before the curse hit, and before that, it had been only two months since I'd last seen you. I've had no time to 'move on'. And I doubt you really have either."
Emma went to rebut. Instead, Neal slid out of the booth and stood up. Her eyes narrowed, and her throat dried up. "That's right," she said. "Just leave, Neal. That's all you're good for."
"Actually, I'm getting us around," he said. Emma went to stand, but Neal held up a hand. "I need a minute. I'm sure you do as well."
Emma remained silent. Neal could see that she was hiding behind her anger. Not much had changed about Emma Swan since he'd seen her last.
"I'll be back," he said. In his mind, he added, I promise.
4. Middle Ground
Neal did come back. Every Tuesday evening for the last month. Each time, Emma would ask him questions, and Neal would answer honestly only to have Emma yell at him that fairy tales aren't real and he a lying liar who lied—she only said that last part after several drinks.
"It's Mr. Gold, isn't it," Emma asked when Neal sat with her that evening. "Your dad. It's Mr. Gold."
Neal took a long sip of his beer.
"You always freeze whenever he walks by or whenever you see me talk to him. You're always looking at him, though. As if you want him to notice you and not notice you at the same time. You don't pay that much attention to anyone else in town—except for Henry and me."
"How is our boy?"
"You're really not going to talk to me about this, are you?"
"Have you told him I'm his dad yet, or are you still 'not ready'?"
"Well, daddy issues apparently runs in the family, so—"
"I've respected your wishes all this time but deserve to know him, Emma."
"You do know him. You see him at the park all the time."
"He knows me as the gardener, not as his dad."
"I'll tell him soon."
"You said that last week. And the week before that… Why are you scared to tell him?"
"I'm not scared of telling Henry, I'm scared that when I tell Henry, I'll also have to tell Regina, and she is already gunning after me, I don't need to throw you in the mix. Not to mention, this whole town has gone ass over tits—my friend died, and now I'm the sheriff, and there's this whole thing with Kathryn Nolan and me… I'm still processing Henry being in my life and you being here and everything else. The least you can give me is time."
Not for the first time, Neal nodded at Emma's words. She was right. It wasn't like he still didn't see his son. Henry just didn't know that he was Neal's son. Neal took another sip of his beer as an image of his father passed through his mind.
5. Liar, Liar
Neal threw all his weight and three decades' worth of anger into the punch that collided with August's face the day he rolled into town.
Emma heard the man fall onto his motorbike and then onto the tarmac before she saw anything. She ran over as Neal grabbed the man by the scruff of his jacket and hauled him to his feet. Before he took another swing, Emma stayed his hand with her own and, still huffing from her sudden sprint, asked very eloquently, "What the fuck?"
"How dare you show your face here," Emma heard Neal say. She had never seen him so angry before. He held pure hate in his eyes, and, for a moment, Emma was afraid. She did not know this Neal.
"Neal, please," she said softly.
The hate stayed, but Neal's grip lessened. Emma's hand tightened around his own, and he let the man fall to the ground. Without a word, Neal spun and engulfed Emma in a tight embrace. She felt her neck grow wet, and Neal began to shake. She eyed the man on the ground. He looked up at the two of them pathetically. He seemed harmless enough.
Neal pulled back and wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweater. He turned to the man. "You," he seethed. "You stole the money. The money I told you to give to her. You didn't tell me she was pregnant. You didn't tell me anything, you manipulative cockroach!"
Emma looked between the two men, the whole situation moving too fast for her brain to catch up. "You," she said to the stranger," Who are you."
"Pinocchio," Neal spat.
The stranger looked up at Neal, then directed his attention to Emma. "August."
"He's the reason I left," Neal said, not looking Emma in the eye. He couldn't, not without remembering how he believed a known liar over his own gut instinct.
"No, Neal," Emma said. She held out a hand to August and helped him up to his feet. "You're the only person responsible for you leaving."
6. Flashback: Vancouver, Canada
I hate this car, Neal thinks. I hate this car and this land and this car…
Up ahead, he sees a man dressed in black, staring out in the distance. The man turns as he hears the yellow bug approach. Neal inhaled deeply as he slowed to a stop. It still smells like her, he thought as he slid out.
"Been a while," the man said. "Where'd you go?"
Neal lifted his arms to shrug, resisting the urge to punch August in the face. It was a feeling Neal resisted each time he saw the man's face.
"Tried to lose myself. It didn't work," Neal said. "I want to talk to you about Emma."
"I hope you're not trying to reach out."
"I just... I feel like... if... if I knew that she was okay, then I could move on."
"She will be," August said solemnly. "She got eleven months."
Neal turned away from August and exhaled. It was strong and loud as if he'd been keeping it in since he parked the bug. Don't hit him, Neal thought. He repeated the mantra in his head a few more times before turning back to August. "That should be me! I should be doing that time."
"No," August replied calmly. "We went over this. It's a good—"
"How's it good?" Neal could feel his emotions getting the better of him. Don't hit him.
"It's a minimum-security place in Phoenix, and no, I am not going to tell you which one. She'll get out of there, and she'll be fine. You keep your promise and steer clear, and she can have a good life. She can do what she's supposed to do."
Neal listened patiently, keeping his breath regular. "If I can't be there for her, man, you got to promise me that you will be."
"I promise."
Neal nodded. "I need you to do something for me," he said. "I was able to fence the watches. Don't judge me. I'm giving it all to her. And the car – I got a clean V.I.N number for it, so it's legit. I just... it'll feel like I'm there with her, you know?"
August's friendly demeanor slipped a little, though Neal wasn't surprised. He believed August when he said Neal wasn't good for Emma, but that was the extent of his trust in the man.
"Money is not what she needs," August said. "Not for what's ahead."
"Can you just see that she gets it?" Neal pushed.
August hesitated before palming the money. He scoped the area, knowing the last he needed was to join Emma in prison for suspicious behavior.
"And one more thing," Neal said. "If anything changes and she does her job, this insanity ends, and she's free..."
August sighed. "You aren't—"
"Good for her," Neal finished. "I know, you're right." At least about this, he thought. Neal rubbed his hand over his face. "You're right. I need to leave."
August turned back to look at Neal and nodded. "Yeah, and—here." He slipped his hand into his pocket and took out a leather pouch. August clutched the pouch tight for a moment before remembering that he could not use its contents without turning back into a wooden puppet forever. He handed the pouch to Neal.
"What's this?" Neal asked, opening the pouch. His breath got caught in his throat as he peered in. A magic bean.
"Take it," August urged. "Leave this place. Leave Emma to her destiny. Go home—Baelfire."
Neal recoiled at the sound of his old name. He hesitated. Could he do it? Could he leave Emma to navigate this world on her own?
"Your father is here," August said, knowing the exact right words to use to ensure Emma never again saw the Dark One's son. "He was brought into this world with the curse. He'll be looking for you when he wakes up."
Papa, Neal thought. He was not proud to admit that those words prolonged his hesitation. Half of him thought about his father being here, in the Land Without Magic, just as they had planned. The other half thought it was too late—Rumpelstiltskin had his chance, and he blew it.
He could easily give the bean back to August, punch the man in the face, and call every prison in Phoenix until he found Emma. Instead, he chose the selfish option. HE wasn't good enough for Emma. His father wasn't good for him. It seemed, at least that moment, that taking the bean and catching a portal out of this land was the only feasible option left.
Neal clutched the pouch tight in his hand and, following in his father's cowardly footsteps, walked away.
7. August Burns the Sky Like Rubber
It was a Thursday. Not Emma's usual night for a drink, but the stress of the day had really pressed down upon her. August coming to town, Neal punching August, Emma taking August to the hospital to make sure Neal hadn't given him a concussion, August mysteriously disappearing when Emma turned her back to speak with Dr. Whale.
When Emma ordered from the bar, she saw August sitting in one of the booths. Once the beers had been pulled, she went over and slid in across from him. "You ran off," she said, setting the beer in front of the man. "You look like you could use it."
August smiled. "Thanks. Sorry, you had to deal with all of that earlier."
"I'm the sheriff. It's my job."
"Still."
Emma eyed the man for a long moment. "You don't want to press charges against Neal?"
"Nah, I had that one coming," August laughed.
"So, what he said was true?"
"Huh?"
"You told him to leave me?"
"Oh. That."
"Why?"
August leaned forward. "Do you believe in magic, Emma?"
Emma drowned her groan with beer. Not him too. "Magic? You sound like Henry."
"Smart kid. I heard this town had magic. That a curse hovered over it, not letting anybody in or out until the Savior came and broke the spell."
"Let me guess. you've read Henry's book."
August chuckled but remained silent.
"What are you doing here, August?"
The man shrugged. "I'm a writer," he said. "I go where the wind takes me."
8. Dolls Belong in Horror Movies
"I don't trust August," Emma said during her and Neal's Tuesday session. Neal's eyes grew large, and he began to speak only to be cut off by Emma. "I don't believe in the whole magic thing, and I don't blame him for you leaving—but I don't wholly trust him either."
"You're right," Neal said. "About it not being his fault. I left. I let you take the fall for the watches, and I fled back to the Enchanted Forest, knowing you were in prison."
Emma stayed silent. She wasn't angry—not anymore. She was tired of being angry. At Neal, at her parents, at the world. She also didn't want to talk about what happened. Too many emotions and emotions, opening up to another person, that's what got her into this mess in the first place.
For a few hours, Emma drank her beer and let herself believe—however briefly—this fantasy world Neal and Henry seemed to be living.
9. Liar, Liar—reprise
Neal had had enough. Enough of Regina trying to keep son away from him, enough of Emma pulling further and further away, but most of all, he'd had enough of August. Neal parked his car and followed the old cottage trail in the forest that August was inhabiting. His fist was no longer aching from its collision with August's face, and Neal was aching to throw another punch.
No, he reminded himself. You're going to talk. Find out why he's here. Don't hit him.
Neal kept walking until two voices up ahead stopped him in his tracks. He'd been hoping to catch August alone. Go, come back another day, he thought. Then he heard his name. His true name. Bae.
Neal walked further toward the cottage until the voices became clearer.
"You were right, Bae. You were always right."
Neal recognized his father's voice instantly and froze, thinking he'd been seen. Then Rumpelstiltskin continued, and Neal realized he was speaking to August. Does he think August is me? Neal's blood boiled, though he wasn't sure which man he was angrier at. "Neal tuned back into the conversation, waiting for August to reveal his identity. But Rumpelstiltskin continued.
"I was a coward, and I should never have let you go. I know, it's little consolation, but I just want you to know that I've been looking for you ever since you left. And now that I've finally found you... I know I can't make up for the past, for the lost time. All I can do is to ask you to do what you've always done. And that's to be the bigger man... And forgive me."
By this stage, Rumpelstiltskin was crying. Half of Neal's heart broke at the sound. He hadn't heard his Papa cry since before he took on his curse. The other half of his heart steeled itself against his cries, against his apologies. He'll never change, he reminded himself.
"I'm so sorry, son. I'm so sorry, Bae," Rumpelstiltskin continued. "Oh, my boy. My beautiful boy. Can you truly, truly forgive me?"
"I forgive you, Papa," August replied, holding the crumpled, crying man.
"You bastard," Neal said, flying into view. "You absolute bastard."
He drew closer to the two men and watched as his father threw himself in between himself and August as if to shield the puppet from Neal's wrath. Neal ignored the fact that he was so close to his father after so long and hurled all his anger at August.
"It wasn't enough that you manipulated me away from Emma. Now you're moving on to my father?"
"I don't know who you are, but—"
Neal looked his father in the eye for the first time in 300 years and tried to keep his resolve from cracking. "How could you think he was me? As if I'd ever think about forgiving you for what you've done."
Rumpelstiltskin's composure relaxed. "Bae?"
August's face held nothing except pure fear. "Neal, listen—"
For the second time since he'd entered Storybrooke, August Booth was knocked to a crumbling heap by the fists of Neal Cassidy.
10. Mommy Issues
"Regina is a psychopath," Emma said as Neal placed a drink in front of her.
"We knew this already."
"Know, she's really a psychopath. She framed Mary Margaret for the murder of Kathryn Nolan!"
"But Kathryn's alive."
"Exactly! Who kidnaps a woman and tries to frame it as murder to lock away an innocent teacher? I'll tell you who: our son's mother! We need to get Henry away from her."
"How are we going to do that?"
"Gold. He's agreed to help."
Neal shook his head. "No."
"Yes," Emma countered. "He's coming here now to meet with us tonight. We're going to start a case."
Neal choked on his beer. "He's coming here? Tonight?" Neal slammed his glass onto the table and went to move from his seat when he was stopped by the body of another person.
"Don't leave on my account, dearie—Bae? Your Henry's father."
"Bae?" Emma asked. "Gold, this is Neal. Henry's dad, my ex, whatever. Look, you're still going to help us, right." Rumpelstiltskin didn't move. Neither man spoke. Emma let out a frustrated sound mid-way through a groan and a sigh. "Sit down. Both of you. Now."
Neal slid back into his seat and sat rigidly as his father sat down next to him.
Emma eyed Neal's posture and allowed a satisfied smirk to cross her face. "I was right, wasn't I? Gold is your father."
"I left him." To Emma's surprise, it was Gold that spoke.
"You two should really catch up. You have a lot in common."
The two men ignored Emma and Rumpelstiltskin turned his attention to Neal. "I'm so sorry, Bae. You have to know—I did this, all of this, to find you."
"You shouldn't have."
"I would have done anything to get you back, Bae, I—"
"No, I mean, you really shouldn't have." Neal turned to his father. I was returned to the Enchanted Forest just as the curse blew over our land. Instead of going home, I was blown back into this world where I stayed frozen for twenty-eight years, find out I had a son, and realize that my father couldn't recognize me from a con-man."
"You were there? But I—"
"As nice as this delusional family reunion is," Emma interrupted, "I have to get Henry away from Regina."
Neal turned his attentions back to Emma and Rumpelstiltskin, realizing his son would not say another word, did the same. Rumpelstiltskin placed his hands on the table and said to Emma, "I won't be taking your case,"
"What? You know what Regina did!"
"Yes, but we can't prove it. And given the mayor's sway in this town, any proceedings against her would be long, drawn-out, and futile. The only certainty is Henry would suffer."
Henry, Rumpelstiltskin thought, my grandson.
"So, what? We leave him in the same house with that sociopath?"
"I'm sorry, Sheriff, my mind is made up."
"You abandoned your son, and now you're going to abandon mine?" Emma cried, standing up from her seat. "The only person I've seen go head-to-head with Regina and win is you."
"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm simply not the man to help you beat Mayor Mills."
"No, you're not," Emma said, moving out of the booth. "If there's one thing your son taught me, it's that the only person I can count on is myself."
11. You're A Man Now, Boy
Emma left, and Neal was stuck in the booth of the only bar within a twenty-mile radius with his father, who let him fall through a portal when he was fourteen because said father was too afraid to lose his magic. To say he was uncomfortable would have been an understatement.
"Bae—"
"I don't want to hear it."
"Please—"
"No."
The tension between the two was tangible.
Rumpelstiltskin reached for his cane and pulled himself out of the booth. He went to walk away, but something inside him made him stay. He stayed facing the door as he spoke. "I thought August was you because I wanted so badly for you to walk back into my life and forgive me and let me be the father you always needed." Rumpelstiltskin kept his back to his son as he asked the most vulnerable question he had ever asked anybody. "Can you see that ever happening?"
Behind him, Neal was quiet.
"Bae—"
"You didn't kill him," Neal said. "August, I mean."
Rumpelstiltskin turned to catch the side of his son's face. "I've changed."
Neal shook his head. "I know what you did to Moe French."
"That was different."
"How?"
"It just was." Rumpelstiltskin's tone was harsh as he grew irritated at the reminder of that pathetic excuse of a man. "I didn't kill August because I want to prove to you that I'm changed."
"I'm glad you didn't kill August," Neal said, standing. He looked his father in the eyes—his eyes, Henry's eyes. "I want to have that honor."
As Neal walked out of The Rabbit Hole, Rumpelstiltskin said motionless. What has happened to you, my boy?
That night, Rumpelstiltskin went to his shop before going home. His mind was wired from his interaction with Bae and finding out he had a grandson. This changes everything, he thought.
The bell above his shop door rang, springing Rumpelstiltskin from his thoughts. A woman's voice spoke. "Excuse me, are you Mr. Gold?"
"Yes, I am, but I'm afraid the shop's closed—" Rumpelstiltskin turned and froze as he saw the woman's face. "Belle."
Rumpelstiltskin moved toward the woman, pure shocked, drenching his features, as she spoke. "I was uh, I was told to-to find and tell you that Regina locked me up. Does that mean anything to you?"
Rumpelstiltskin reached out and cupped her arm to make sure she wasn't a mirage. "You're real. You're alive. She did this to you?"
Belle looked at the unfamiliar man, the way he looked at her as if she were a treasure he'd lost and thought he'd see again. "I was told you'd protect me."
Pulling her to him, Rumpelstiltskin began weeping into the side of her neck. "Oh, yes. Yes, I'll protect you."
"Um, I'm sorry," Belle said, pulling away to look into the man's eyes. They looked so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. "Do I… do I know you?"
"No," Rumpelstiltskin said, his tears clouding his vision of Belle, his True Love, his soulmate…. "But you will."
12. Revelations
When August entered the police station, Emma noticed that his other eye was black.
"Piss off another guy?" Emma asked.
"The same guy," August said.
Emma sighed. "Do I want to know?"
Instead of answering, August took a seat across from Emma. He took out an old newspaper clipping.
"7-Year-Old Boy Finds Baby on Road," Emma read. "What is this."
"You," August said, pointing to the swaddled heap pictured in the arms of a young child. Next, he pointed to the child. "Me."
"What?" Emma spat out.
"You've been snooping around, wanting to know why I'm here. This is why," August replied. "The seven-year-old boy who found you in the woods. It was me."
Emma shook her head. "I wasn't found in the woods; I was found on the side of the highway."
"And why do you think that?" August asked. "Because you read it in the newspaper? Did it ever occur that maybe that boy lied about where he found you?"
"No. But it occurs to me that you've been lying about everything. And I'm done listening." Emma stood. "You can see yourself out."
But August didn't move. "When I found you, you were wrapped in a blanket, and "Emma" was embroidered along the bottom of it." Emma faltered. "That wasn't in the article, was it? How would I know that unless I was there?"
"Okaaay, Emma drew out. "Let's say you were that kid. Why lie about where you found me?"
"I lied to protect you."
"From what?"
"You've read Henry's book, right?"
Emma scoffed.
August continued. "You know about the curse, don't you? Your role in it? It's true, Emma. We," August pulled out an old photograph of the woods and pointed to the tree pictured at its center, "both came into this world through this tree."
"You're asking me to believe that you are a fairy tale character?"
"Pinocchio."
Pinocchio? Isn't what Neal said when—No! Emma thought. I do not believe in fairy tales.
"I needed you to know the truth."
"The truth is you are out of your mind. And you're not even a good liar: why not write the end of that story?"
"Because this is the ending, and we're writing it right now."
"And how does this story end?"
"With you believing."
"Not gonna happen," Emma said and pulled August to his feet. "Now, leave."
When Emma let go, she did not expect August to fall to a crumbling heap on the police station's floor. She panicked for a moment. "What is it? What's wrong?"
August let out a tearful chuckle. "I failed."
"What are you talking about?"
"It doesn't matter; you don't believe."
"If you think that by making me feel sorry for you that something's going to change, you are wrong."
"I'm not screwing around here! Whatever you believe or don't, this is real, Emma! I'm sick."
"That's an understatement."
"Ever been to Phuket? It's a beautiful, amazing island, full of pleasures. The perfect place to lose oneself, that's where I was when you decided to stay in Storybrooke."
"How do you know when I decided to stay in Storybrooke?"
"Because at eight-fifteen in the morning, I woke up with a shooting pain in my leg; that's eight-fifteen at night in Storybrooke—sound familiar? That's when time there started to move forward again. I was supposed to be there for you... and I wasn't. Because I was halfway around the world, I got a painful reminder of just how far I'd strayed." August pulled up the leg of his pants to show Emma his wooden leg.
Emma looked down at August's perfectly healthy leg.
"How does that prove anything?"
"Look!" August cried, pointing at the joint.
"August, I'm looking."
"You don't see, do you?"
"See what?"
"Your denial is more powerful than I thought: it's preventing you from seeing the truth!"
"One of us is losing it here, August Booth, and it's not me."
"You don't wanna believe," August realized. "After everything you've seen, everything you've heard, why can't you just do it?"
"Why is it so important to you that I do?"
"Because I, the town, everyone, needs you!"
"I don't want them to need me!"
"Well," August said, using his arms to clamber back onto the seat. "That's too bad because we all do!"
"You're saying that I am responsible for everyone's happiness? That's crap! I didn't ask for that; I don't want it!"
"A little while ago, you didn't want Henry either, but then he came to you, and now you are fighting like hell for him."
"And I'm not even doing a good job of that! Now you're telling me I have to save everyone? That is beyond ridiculous; I don't want any of it!"
August let out a sigh of defeat. "Well, that's too bad, Emma. Because that doesn't change the truth."
"I—"
"Emma!" Neal called, barreling through the door of the police station. "Emma, it's Henry!"
13. Daddy Issues
Neal was sitting at the island in Mary Margaret's kitchen when Henry came barreling in.
"Emma! Emma—Leo? Where's my mom?"
"Dunno, kid. Mary Margaret let me in on her way out. I'm waiting for her, too."
Henry eyed the man carefully. "Are you two dating?" Neal let out an anxious laugh, and Henry frowned. "Why is that funny?"
Because your own son, Neal thought. "We, uhh, we have a standing appointment on Tuesdays. She didn't show. What are you doing out so late, kiddo?"
"My mom, she's up to something. She's going to make Emma leave town."
"Emma wouldn't leave," Neal reassured the boy. "Not without you."
Henry seemed to breathe easier after that. He walked toward the kitchen island and jumped up onto the stool next to Neal.
"You remember, don't you. You know about the curse."
Unable to lie to his son, Neal nodded. "I remembered the moment Emma hit me when she first arrived."
"You knew her then? Before she came here?" Henry wrinkled his nose. "How does that work."
Neal shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I knew your mom. We hung out for a while. Then I took a portal back to the Enchanted Forest—I was born there, you see. A long, long time ago. The thing about traveling worlds is you don't always get there at the right time. I landed home just as the curse carried everybody back to this realm."
"Cool!" Henry said, his lighting up. "I mean, I'm sorry that you lost your home, but—traveling to different worlds sounds awesome!"
Neal chuckled. "It can be awesome. It can also be terrifying."
Henry nodded as if he understood the gravity of Neal's words rather than thinking back to his storybook. "Are you in it? The book, I mean."
"Very briefly," Neal admitted, thinking back on the times he had read Henry that exact story without knowing it was about him and his Papa.
"Who?" Henry asked, his entire being buzzing with excitement.
Neal smirked at the boy. "I'll give you three guesses."
Henry gasped. "Rumpelstiltskin?"
"No," Neal flinched, his voice a little strained.
His discomfort went unnoticed by Henry, who took another guess. "Jack, from 'Jack and the Beanstalk'? He stole the magic beans that take people to different worlds!"
Once again, Neal shook his head.
Henry's nose wrinkled again. "You aren't Pinocchio, are you? He always annoyed me."
Neal laughed at his son. "Pinocchio? Never!"
"Then, who?" Henry sighed with exasperation, sick of this game now that he had lost.
"You were close with that first answer…"
"What, Rumplest—Oh, you're Baelfire!"
Neal grinned. "You can call me Bae."
Henry grinned right back. "I prefer Leo."
"You know what, kid, so do I."
"Have you talked to your dad since you've woken up?"
Neal's smile slipped. "I don't know, Henry. There's a lot of anger there."
"I give anything to know my dad."
Henry's words felt like a punch to the guts to Neal. You do know me, kid. All of me. Better than anyone in this town? Not knowing how to respond, Neal let the silence linger for a moment until Henry broke it, fear coating his small voice.
"Where did you get that?" Henry asked, pointing to the apple turnover that sat on the kitchen island with a note next to it."
"Mary Margaret said Regina brought it over for Emma," Neal relayed. "A peace treaty, I guess."
"Is it apple!"
"So?"
"Don't you remember the stories? Apples! They're poison. Emma can't eat that. She'll die!"
"Look, kid, maybe—"
"Don't you see? It's all a trick to get Emma to eat that. To get rid of the savior."
"You don't think…"
"As long as Emma's alive, she's a threat to the curse… And I know just how to prove it."
Before Neal could react, Henry reached over and grabbed a fistful of turnover and shoved it into his mouth."
"No!" Neal cried, reaching out to catch his son as Henry collapsed in his seat. "Henry. Henry? Oh god, please! Henry?"
14. Just Desserts
"Henry, can you hear me?" Emma cried, cradling her son in his hospital bed. "Come on, Henry, wake up, please! Come on, Henry. Come on. You can do it!"
"Ma'am," said the nurse, "You need to—"
"No, I am not going anywhere."
On the other side of Henry's too-still body, Dr. Whale finished up his examination. "There's no pupil response. What happened? Did he fall? Hit his head?"
"He ate this," Neal said from behind Emma. "I think it's poisoned."
"His airway's clear. Did he vomit? Any convulsions or disorientation?"
"He took a bite of this, and then he just collapsed!" Emma cried, relaying what Neal told her. "Run the tests for arsenic or bleach or Drano or whatever could have done this to him!"
Dr. Whale eyed his patient. "The boy is showing no symptoms that would suggest neurotoxins. Whatever's going on, dessert is not the culprit."
"Well, what else could it be?"
"I don't know," Dr. Whale muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "That's what I'm trying to find out."
"He's gonna be okay, though, right?" Neal piped in.
"Right now, we just need to stabilize him. Is there anything else that you can remember, any little detail?"
"We've already told you everything. Do something!"
"Look, I understand you're frustrated, Miss Swan. I do, but I need something to treat. Right now, there is no explanation. It's like—"
"Like magic," Emma said as Regina came barreling through the door.
"Where's my son?" Regina cried.
Emma stood up to face the other woman. "You did this!" Emma pulled her hand back as if to hit the other woman when Neal grabbed hold of her.
"What the hell are you doing? And who the hell is this? My son—"
"This," Emma spat at Regina, "Is Henry's father and the person who brought Henry to the hospital. What could have happened if Neal didn't react as fast as he did! As for my son. He's sick because of you! That apple turnover you gave me—he ate it!"
Regina looked stunned. "But it was meant for you."
Realization dawned on Emma at that moment. The apples. The tests denying any use of poison. She didn't use poison. She used magic… Emma leaned into Neal as the weight of reality sunk in. "It's true, isn't it?" she muttered. "All of it."
Neal brought Emma closer into his chest. "Emma—"
"Yes," Regina responded.
"I wasn't hurting anybody! I just wanted to get to know my son," Emma cried. "Why couldn't you just leave things alone?"
Regina's expression turned into one of pure malice. "Because as long as you're alive, Henry will never be mine."
"He'll never be anyone's unless you fix this. Wake him up!"
Regina faltered. Neal spoke for her. "She can't."
"Don't you have magic?" Emma cried.
"That was the last of it. It was supposed to put you to sleep!"
"What's it gonna do to him?" Neal asked.
Regina looked at her son's father—really looked at him—for the first time. It's like staring into Henry's eyes, she thought. "I… I don't know. Magic here is unpredictable."
"So... So he could..."
Not able to speak, Regina nodded.
"So, what do we do?" Emma asked.
"We need help." The words made Regina grimace. "There's one other person in town who knows about this, about magic."
"Mr. Gold," Emma spoke, just as Neal said, "My dad."
15. Quest for Knowledge
Rumpelstiltskin was in his workroom at the back of his shop speaking to Belle when the bell above his door gave a loud ring.
"Gold!"
He tucked a stray strand of hair behind Belle's ear and kissed her forehead. "I'll be right back, dearie."
Belle smiled up at Mr. Gold and took a sip from her tea. "Thank you," she said. "You've been very kind. I don't know how I'll be able to repay you."
Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. "Call it payback, Belle. For all that you've given me."
"Gold! It's urgent!" another shout came from the shop. With a sigh, Rumpelstiltskin left Belle and went to see what the issue was today. His annoyance turned to anger when he saw Regina in his shop.
"You!" he hissed. "Get out."
"Rumpel—"
"Leave, dearie, before I do something you'll regret."
"Papa, please."
That was the moment Rumpelstiltskin registered Regina's entourage.
"Bae? What's the matter?"
"It's Henry," Emma said. "He ate a poison apple."
"Apple turnover," Regina corrected. "It was laced with sleeping potion."
Rumpelstiltskin's eyes narrowed. The torture this woman has set upon my family…
"Papa, please help. It's Henry. Help me save my son."
Regina flinched at the reminder that not only was Henry's father in town but that she had he was the son of her once-mentor-turned-vicious-enemy. "Please, Rumple. Henry shouldn't have to pay the price for my mistakes."
"No, he shouldn't," Rumpelstiltskin agreed. He paused a moment, then said. "True love, Miss Swan—it's the only magic strong enough to transcend realms and break any curse. Luckily for you, I happen to have bottled some."
"True love?"
"Yes, straight from strands of your parents' hair, I made the most powerful potion in all the realm. So powerful that, when I created the Dark Curse, I placed a single drop on the parchment. Just a little safety valve."
Emma let out a deep exhale. "That's why I'm the savior, that's why I can break the curse." Emma shook her head. "I don't care about breaking the curse. All I care about is saving Henry."
"I didn't use all the potion. I saved some. For a rainy day."
"Well, it's storming like a bitch. Where is it?"
Rumpelstiltskin paused. If I use this to save Henry, then… He blinked those thoughts away, keeping his face stoic. This is your grandson! "Where it is, isn't the problem," he told them. "Getting it is what should worry you."
"Enough riddles," Regina said, slamming a fist on the counter. "What do we do?"
"You do nothing," Rumpelstiltskin said, eyeing his former student with contempt. "It has to be Miss Swan."
"Me?"
"You're the product of the magic. You must be the one to find it."
"You can do it," Neal said. Emma turned to face him. "You can do anything, Emma. You're the strongest person I've met."
Emma nodded. Regina looked like she was going to be sick. "I don't trust him, she said."
"Neither do I," Neal replied, observing his father. "But what choice do we have?
Rumpelstiltskin stayed notably quiet.
"Where is this magic?" asked Emma.
"Tell me, your Majesty," Rumpelstiltskin said. "Is our friend still in the basement?"
Regina looked visibly shocked. "You twisted little imp. You hid it with her?"
"Oh no, not with her," he said, and with those words, Neal recognized the Dark One that his father had been so careful to hide from him since he revealed his identity. "I hid it in her. I knew you couldn't resist bringing her over."
"Who is 'here?'" asked Emma.
Rumpelstiltskin eyed the savior as if examining whether she was up for the task. "Someone you should be prepared for. Where you're going, you're gonna need this." Rumpelstiltskin turned and opened the chest behind his shop counter to reveal a gleaming sword.
Emma stayed truly baffled. "What is that?"
"Your father's sword."
16. To slay a dragon.
Emma learned three things very quickly in the space of one hour. One: magic was real. Two: she loved Henry more than anything in the world. Three: she didn't know the first thing about fighting a dragon.
After the hour was up and she held the essence of True Love bottled up in her clammy fist, Emma was vehement that she would never fight another dragon again as long as she lived.
Regina wiped her brow clean of sweat as she trailed after Emma. Neal looked on at the women leading their way back to the elevator, their one escape from the library basement. "If you're this scary without magic," he called out to Regina. "I can't imagine how you were in the Enchanted Forest."
Regina looked back at her son's father with a glare. "Too bad I don't have my magic with me now," she said. Turning to look at Emma, she continued. "Why is he here anyway?"
"He's Henry's father," Emma said, dissociated. She pressed the button for the elevator and stepped inside. Her eyes focused on the dragon's blood coating her sword. She pinched herself, then yelped at the pain.
"How does that work?" Regina asked, following Emma into the elevator.
Neal joined the women and scoffed. "Weren't you married once before, Your Majesty?"
Regina rolled her eyes. "I mean, how did it happen with you under the curse and Emma out there in the big, bad world?"
"Timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly."
"Of course, you're the one who turned Henry onto that hideous television show," Regina groaned.
"Can you two just stop," came the voice from the back of the elevator.
Regina and Neal turned and saw Emma, pale-faced, staring at the sword in her hands. Emma looked up at them, her eyes blank.
"I just slew a fucking dragon," Emma said, stoically. "A motherfucking dragon. Like a real one. And I'm holding a sword which once belonged to my father who is supposed to be David Nolan who cheated on his wife with my best friend slash supposed mother, and now we're off to save our son who was put under a sleeping curse by his mother, the Evil fucking Queen."
Neal stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Emma's shoulder. She flinched as if the touch stung. Regina did not take Neal's soft approach.
"Snap out of it!" Regina said, her tone coated in venom. "Yes, you killed a dragon. We remember we were right there. We even tried to help as best we could so you could strike the final blow. It was all very, very real." Regina held her blouse from her body as if to showcase the bloodstains it bore. "Do you know what else is real? Our son." Regina's tone softened at the thought of Henry, vulnerable, pale, and all too still in that hospital bed. "He needs us right now."
The elevator doors opened, and the trio stepped out. Mr. Gold stood waiting for them. "My car is out front," he said, handing Neal his car keys.
Neal looked at the keys and then at his father. He nodded at Rumpelstiltskin. "Thanks."
As they filed out, Rumpelstiltskin took hold of Regina's arm and pulled her to the side. "We're going to have quite a few words when this is over, Your Majesty."
Regina wrenched her arm free and scowled at the imp. "Words? About what? How you pretended to be asleep for twenty-eight years? How you obviously planned Henry's adoption—"
"About Belle."
Regina froze. Outside, the car engine started. Eyeing Rumpelstiltskin for one-second longer, Regina moved away from him and ran out to the car. She half-fell into the backseat. Neal nor Emma didn't see her hands shaking.
17. Twuu Wuv
Emma, Regina, and Neal ran into the ICU as a nurse pulled the curtain around Henry's bed. Dr. Whale walked calmly out of the room; his head hung low.
Nausea churned Emma's gut. She knew that look on the doctor's face. It was the look her first foster family had when they told her they were pregnant and that she was going back to the group home. The same look the prison nurse had when they told her she was pregnant and Neal was nowhere to be found. That look only carried bad news.
"I'm sorry," Dr. Whale said. "We did everything we could."
Their three reactions were palpable.
Neal clutched his chest, his heart twisting painfully. He felt light-headed, dizzy, short of breath, and frozen. He looked at the curtain surrounding his son's bed, obstructing the view of the sweet kid he knew and loved. Neal half-expected Henry's head to pop around the side of the curtain, that goofy smile he always wore—no lips, all teeth—plastered on his face.
Regina ran immediately to her son's bedside. She tore open the curtain and knelt at his side, his small hand clasped in both of hers. "No," she said, repeatedly like a mantra. If she said it enough times, she'd wake up, and this would all be a terrible dream. Tears poured down her face, and she clung to her son—her baby boy whom she loved and raised. Without him…
Emma moved slower than Regina, but just as sure. Tears clouded her vision, and, for the first time since she was a little girl, she let them fall. Her steps grew more and more hesitant as she drew closer to Henry's body. It looked so tiny in that big hospital bed. I just got him back, she thought. Her son, who she'd known for less than a year but who had wormed his way into her guarded heart.
Neal gained some of his composure and joined his son's mothers by his bedside. He stood next to Emma and picked up Henry's remaining hand. He brought the hand to his lips as Regina did the same with his other hand, and Emma placed a soft kiss on Henry's forehead.
"We love you, Henry," Emma said. As the words left her lips, a ripple resonated throughout the hospital. Emma heard Dr. Whale gasp from behind them. Regina cringed. This was it. Her curse, her revenge—it had all been destroyed.
A second gasp echoed the first, and Emma, Neal, and Regina all looked to the hospital bed.
"Henry!" they exclaimed.
Henry sat up and looked at the three adults looming over his bed. Finally, he looked at Emma. "You did it! You saved me."
Emma's tear flowed even more powerfully as she scooped Henry up into a giant hug. Regina joined in and then, finally, Neal. When they all pulled back, Emma looked at Regina and Neal, then back at their son. "Actually," she said. "I think we all did."
"True Love's Kiss," Regina said in awe. "I guess we didn't need that lousy potion!"
"Your Majesty," came a sharp voice from behind the group. Dr. Whale stood with pure hatred in his eyes as he stared at Regina.
"The curse!" exclaimed Henry. "You broke it."
Emma looked part shocked, part relieved. "So, what happens now?"
"I would say, 'And they all lived happily ever after,' but," he shot a glance at Regina, who sat dumbstruck by their son's bed with Dr. Whale standing over her. "I don't think we're all gonna be that lucky."
18. Can Villains Have A Happy Ending
Henry and his three parents walked into his bedroom. Neal was carrying him in his arms while Emma and Regina, as always, led the charge.
"Henry," Regina whispered to her son as he got settled into bed. "No matter what you think, no matter what anyone tells you, I do love you."
Henry nodded. "I… I love you too, mom."
Regina sobbed into her son's neck for half a minute before pulling away and allowing Emma to lead her out of the room.
Neal stayed behind.
"So, I guess you're my dad, huh?" Henry asked.
"I guess," Neal laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Is that okay?"
Henry shrugged. "Will you read me a bedtime story?"
Meanwhile, Emma drove Regina to the police station where the town had voted the Evil Queen would reside until they ordered a trial. Well… the newly reclaimed Snow White had ordered the trial. The rest of the town called for her head on a spike.
Mr. Gold met the two women outside of the station. By his side was a woman Emma had never seen before. Regina froze at the site.
"Come to gloat?" Regina asked.
"Come to see the witch burn," quipped Rumpelstiltskin.
Belle elbowed her lover in the ribs. "We wanted to see justice served," Belle said. "You destroyed our lives—luckily, we're more merciful than you are."
Speak for yourself, Rumpelstiltskin almost said. Instead, he grunted. "The Charming's are waiting inside for you, Your Majesty. Better say a quick prayer. They might not let you go free a second time."
Regina scowled at the thought of Snow White—the real Snow White—returning to her true self. Her and that charming husband of hers. They're pathetic, she thought. Emma took hold of Regina's wrist, much gentler than the queen had anticipated, and led her into the station. They entered the doors, and sure enough, the Charming's were there, waiting. Only, it wasn't Regina they were looking at.
Mary Margaret ran to Emma, arms outstretched. She cupped her face in her hands and stared at her, tears over spilling onto her plump cheeks. "You found us," she said.
"So, it's true," Emma said, her grip on Regina's arm tightening as if she needed something—someone—strong to latch onto. Regina, for the first time since Emma Swan stepped foot in Storybrooke, empathized with the woman.
Mary Margaret engulfed her daughter in her arms, her tears slipping onto Emma's shoulder. David wrapped his arms around his family. Emma never let Regina go. The queen coughed, startling the Charming's out of their family reunion, and tried to ignore the thankful smile Emma threw her way.
"Throw me in the dungeon," Regina said. "Anything to get away from this torture."
Mary Margaret stepped forward, looking as much the reigning queen as she did in the Enchanted Forest. Regina stilled herself. I'm the true queen, she thought. I will not fear this little girl.
Instead of receiving the slap across the face she was expecting, Mary Margaret hugged the woman she once thought of as a friend. The force of that hug pulled Regina's wrist from Emma's grasp. Regina, unsure of how to react, let her arms hang limply at her sides.
A commotion from outside pulled the two women apart, and Regina couldn't help but be half-relieved. Until that is, she heard what the commotion was about.
"Bring out the Evil Queen!" came the shouts from outside the police station.
Regina paled. A bang on the station door.
"Open up, or we're coming in!"
"I say we give her to the wolves," came Gold's voice from behind the queen and the Charming's.
"Not unless we give you to them as well," Emma said, still not trusting the man who, it seemed, was her son's grandfather. This is one fucked up family, she thought, before continuing. "NO matter what Regina's done, it does not justify giving her to a town of uncursed fairy-tale characters who will tear her to shreds."
David looked at his daughter, skeptically. "Emma—"
"No, David. Emma's right," said Mary Margaret. "Regina is still Henry's mother." She turned to face her stepmother. "I remember all those years we were frozen. You were a good mother to Henry—are a good mother to Henry." Snow smiled sadly. "The type of mother I wish you had been for me."
Regina looked at her stepdaughter quizzically. "After all these years, after everything I've put you through, you still have the ability to forgive?"
Snow took hold of Regina's hand. "You are family," she said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. She then looked at Emma and took her hand in her own as well. "You don't give up on family."
Emma and Regina paused at the touch of Snow White's hand on theirs. They both pulled back quickly, and both felt a small pang in their chest at the sad face Snow pulled.
"I don't believe in happy endings or ever afters or whatever you're calling them," Emma said, looking oddly at the woman who had become her best friend, the woman she'd found out was the mother she'd thought abandoned her on the side of a highway as a baby. "But Mary Margaret is right," this time she faced Regina, "You don't give up on family."
Rumpelstiltskin remained in the shadow of the doorway, Belle still clinging to his side.
"Promise me," she said. "Promise me you won't give in to your hate. Promise me you won't kill her. Promise me, and we can be together."
He looked down at her. He didn't believe in happy endings either, especially for villains, but as he gazed lovingly at his True Love, he thought maybe there was some stock in it after all.
"Sweetheart, I promise."
He squeezed Belle's hand as if to make sure she was real, alive, willingly standing by his side after everything they'd been through. If Rumpelstiltskin, the biggest villain of them all, could find half of his happy ending with such a woman, then perhaps he could find the second half once Bae decided to speak to him again. And maybe, just maybe, a villain could also live happily ever after.
The end.