Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and any unrecognizable characters and dialogue.
Really sorry about the long wait... though I feel I must share with you all that I got to meet THE Peter Pan during my very recent trip to Disney World.
To answer a reviewers query: Lily is somewhere around a few hundred years old at this point. She's younger than Pan, Baelfire, and Rumple, but is still pretty old. Technically, she's around 75 or so (if you don't count the way time moves on Neverland). She's about four years older than Regina, and went to Neverland when she was 16 (I refuse to believe Regina was any older than twenty-two when she married King Leopold). She was on Neverland for about 30 years in the Enchanted Forest, but for quite a few decades in Neverland time. Hope that clears up some stuff about her age - physically, she's around 17/18 currently in the story.
To answer another reviewer's query: the correct order to read the series of stories I've created is - Ashes to Ashes, No One Escapes, Say You'll Remember, Goodbye Means Forgetting. The last two will technically happen simultaneously by a certain point, but we haven't reached that point just yet.
Also, since people have been asking... Peter Pan will still be related to Rumpelstiltskin. Will I be changing what said relation is? Perhaps.
Enjoy!
Chapter Playlist: 'Letters from Albert' from 'The Young Victoria OST'
Enchanted Forest
Clothed in silk and satin, Katerina stared at her reflection in the polished silver dully. A bruise, hidden beneath a dusting of fine powder, marred the side of her face, perilously close to her temple. Behind her, the Black Fairy watched her with a twisted approximation of a smile. Daintily lifting a circlet of twisted ivy from a velvet case, the fairy placed it gently on the girl's brow.
"There now," she rested her hands on the girl's frail shoulders. She felt bird-like, so thin that a strong enough gust of wind might snap her in two. "Beautiful, little Maia," a nail ran the length of the invisible bruise, and Katerina finally reacted.
She flinched from the touch, glowering at the Black Fairy. "My name is not Maia," she muttered, voice faint and hoarse from disuse.
"Oh, yes it is, dearest. It will be so long as my son demands it of you." Her deceptively gentle touch turned rough, and she twisted Katerina's chin around so they were eye to eye."And he plans to do so… forever. Is that not wonderful, little one?"
Katerina did not answer; not that the Black Fairy expected one. With exaggerated fondness, the older woman urged Katherina back into her room, watching with an amused twist to her lips. The moment the door closed behind the frail girl, the Black Fairy opened her mouth.
"Quite a beauty, is she not, Tiger Lily?"
Storybrooke
"Breakfast in bed?" Emma sighed as the migraine that had itched behind her temples the moment upon waking that morning reasserted itself at the sight of the tray in her father's hands. "Seriously?"
David scowled at his daughter. "What happened has been really hard on Mary Margaret." He reminded her sternly. He ignored the ever growing voice in his head that coddling his wife wasn't going to help anyone. "The least we can do is make sure she's eating."
"I think it's time to give the hot cocoa and the foot massages a rest," even as she spoke, Emma knew it was a lost cause. Trying to reason with David when it regarded Mary Margaret never ended well. "It's time to haul her ass out of bed and get her to move past this."
"That's a little harsh," David chided her as she flung on her coat, fluffing her hair from beneath the collar. "Don't you think? She took Cora's life."
Henry chose that moment to stomp down the stairs, making sure he did it loud enough to catch their attention. "Is everything okay?" He asked, warily expecting both to scream 'fine' at him for the thousandth time.
Emma more than exceeded his expectations. "Everything's fine, kid." As she spoke, she tied a scarf around her neck and nudged him toward the coat-rack. "Get your coat - we're gonna be late."
Reading her expression, he wisely chose not to pick a fight that morning. "Bye, Gramps." He said instead, ducking past David for the door.
Emma followed, David practically nipping at her heels. "I know you think that she needs our help," Emma placated him, lips set in a frown. "But, at the end of the day, she's the only one who can help herself."
David watched, lips pressed in a thin line, as Henry and Emma left the loft. Running a hand across his face, he returned to the kitchenette. Breakfast tray in hand once more, he went to bring it to his wife and stopped short at the sight of her out of bed.
"Good morning," she muttered faintly, as if she hadn't spent the last few weeks practically bedridden, ignoring him and everyone else.
"Hey," he whispered in return, clearing his throat. "Morning. I made you some eggs, but if you're craving something else, we can go to Granny's." He lowered the plate to the counter, finally registering the fact that she was fully dressed. "Unless you have other plans."
"I thought I'd head out to the woods, actually." She bypassed him for the door. After buttoning her coat, she grabbed a hat and scarf, along with her bow and arrows. "I need to think things through."
"Let me come with you."
"David… I need to do this alone." She told him, forcing herself to sound upbeat. "And you have things to do. I know you've been looking forward to working in the bean field."
He recognized her attempts at stalling, but played along. "Yeah… yeah, Anton says we might have a crop soon. And once we do, we can go home." He could see her beginning to close off again just by the expression on her face. "And none of what happened will matter. It will all be in the past."
"I used Regina to kill her own mother. I don't think going back will erase that."
Stung by her coldness, he tried one more time. "Mary Margaret… "
"Please," she whispered as she slipped away from him. "Give me time."
Lillian was seated at the window, lips set in a pained smile when she caught sight of Henry and Emma walking down the street toward the inn. She turned when Neal exited the bathroom, running a towel through his salt and pepper hair. Like the lines around his mouth and eyes, almost every part of him was a reminder that he had aged… that so much time had passed since those days on Neverland.
"You alright, Lily?" He asked quietly. Her eyes had a sad, faraway quality to them that worried him. She was so… docile. So unlike herself, and he had to admit that it frightened him. She had been gentle on Neverland, with him and Pan, sometimes even with Hook and the Lost Boys. But in Storybrooke, she was like a completely different person.
Mutely, she nodded, forcing some semblance of a smile. He didn't look convinced, but didn't scold her for it like some of the others might have. Instead, he ran a finger along the dark, purple shadows that collected beneath her eyes. Her smile became more genuine and more than a bit sheepish.
"Is it the nightmares again?"
The door opening, followed by Henry barreling into the room, saved her from response. Neal was slow to move away from Lillian, and the sight that greeted Emma when she entered made her pause. Once more, the sheer intensity of the closeness Neal and Lillian shared startled her, making her flustered and uneasy.
"Hey, buddy!" Neal opened his arms, accepting Henry's hug with far less stiffness than he had the first time. "How are you?"
"I'm good," Henry shifted his arms, revealing the large, bound storybook. "I brought this. I thought you could tell me what it was really like over there." He caught sight of Lillian across the room and ran to her side. "Sis!"
"Sounds great," Neal called after him, heart warming at the sight of his son and Lillian embracing. "I'll tell you what," reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a few bills and offered them to the pair. "Why don't you two run to the diner, get us four hot cocoas, and we'll dive in?"
"I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that," Emma forced out, unable to meet Lillian's eye as the teen slipped by her, Henry tucked into her side. Her hands clenched into useless fists at her side before she shoved them into her pockets. "I need to get down to the station to take care of some things."
Neal followed her before she could reach the door. "Hey, can it wait? There's a couple things I wanna talk to you about." His voice lowered. "Tamara went to my place to get some of her stuff."
Emma blinked slowly at him. "Okay."
"All her bags were in the storage room, but Hook wasn't."
The migraine threatened to reassert itself once more. "Lucky." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Well, this will certainly complicate things."
"Yeah, but at least he's free in New York and not here," he pointed out gently, frowning sympathetically at her pained expression. "I'm not sure how much more trouble he can cause anyway. The second… thing, I wanna talk to you about is the reason Tamara was getting her stuff… is that she's on her way here."
"Here?" Emma repeated as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "As in Storybrooke."
"Yeah, she should be here at Granny's any minute now."
"What are you thinking?"
"What do you mean?" Confused by her reaction, he leaned back to stare at her.
"I mean, what are you gonna tell her when she sees a giant or a werewolf run past her on Main Street?" She demanded, voice rising in distress at the possibility. "Between Greg Mendell, our food-obsessed tourist, and now your fiancee, this town is turning into a theme park."
"Maybe I didn't think it all the way through," he admitted finally, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I just… I need her, I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean it to… " His eyes suddenly went wide with distress and Emma almost felt bad for berating him.
Almost.
"Don't need to apologize to me." She scoffed, crossing her arms in a manner she refused to believe was defensive. "I'm not the one you're lying to."
"Who's lying?"
"Does she know who you really are and where you're really from?" The blonde demanded flippantly, continuing before he had a chance to respond. "Take my advice; don't let her find out on her own. Tell her the truth - tell her everything."
Struggling to formulate a response to her true, if not blunt, words, Neal looked down when his cell chimed. Sighing deeply, he opened the message and glance up at Emma with a pleading, rueful gaze. "It's her. She's ten minutes away." The blonde tensed, as if ready to bolt, and he held up a hand. "Why don't you stay and get to know her?"
She could think of numerous far less pleasant things she would rather do than me her ex's new fiancee, but swallowed back the biting comments. "I really should be going."
"I know, but we're all connected now." He reminded gently, knowing that she wouldn't react well if he pushed too hard. "It might be nice for you two to talk." A faint pleading note crept into his voice when her features remained closed off. "Just… stay and say hello. She's bringing bagels."
Despite his protests, David let her go without too much of a fight. Sadly, Mary Margaret couldn't find it in her to be thankful for his behavior; she couldn't fit in in her to feel anything, if she was being honest. Her run-in with Regina had left her disconnected from the world, leaving her numb and hollow. Even with Joan Jett blasting in her ears so loudly that it hurt, and the familiar feel of her bow in her hands, she still felt nothing.
As she notched and loosed another arrow, a slightly off-center one that missed the tree she'd been using as a makeshift target, she heard the sharp snap of a branch being stepped on. Pausing, she muted the music and yanked the headphones from her ears in time to hear the frantic sound of retreating footsteps. Wary now - even though Cora was dead, that didn't mean there wasn't anymore danger lurking in and around Storybrooke - she followed the direction of the footsteps.
The sound of a loud thud in the distance led her to a dirty, rickety old trailer nestled deep in the woods. Cautiously, she advanced and pressed against the door with gentle fingers. It squeaked open, clearly having seen better days.
"Anyone in here?" She called faintly, fingers twitching restlessly on her bow. As she crept further into the trailer, she caught movement from the corner of her eye.
"It's just me."
She turned at the heavy footsteps, eyes widening and mouth dropping. A man, with piercing blue eyes stepped toward her awkwardly from the back of the trailer. Even if she hadn't been able to recognized his features, despite the obvious change in them, she already knew who it was.
"August?" She whispered, watching as the wooden man painfully made his way toward her, dropping to the small sofa when her knees threatened to give out. "But… the curse broke."
"Not for me," he contradicted, carved lips pressed together tightly. "When it lifted, I could move again, but I stayed like this. This is my own punishment," he gestured to himself, bitterness in every gesture and word. "Not the Queen's. I did this to myself."
"August, I'm so sorry." She reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, pausing when he flinched away from her touch. "Oh, but you don't have to hide. There are people in Storybrooke who care about you… Emma, your father…"
He seized onto the mention of his father like a dying man. "How is he? My papa?"
"He misses you."
"I know. But I can't let him see me like this… or Emma."
"Please reconsider," she begged, biting her lip at the set expression her wore. "They could all use you back. There's been a lot going on. Henry's father returned. Emma found him."
That caught his attention. "Wait… Emma and Neal? They're back together again?"
"Uh… uh, no." She stuttered, bewildered that he knew the name of Henry's father. "Actually, he's engaged to someone he met in New York."
"I was hoping… that's my problem… hoping." He sighed bitterly, looking somehow guiltier with every word he said. "Hoping that things can still work out. Hoping that I can find redemption for the mistakes that I made. But maybe some things you just don't come back from."
She shook her head emphatically. "No matter what you've done, you deserve a second chance."
"That's easy for you to say," he snapped back without any real bite. "You never had to worry about forgiveness, redemption. You've never needed it."
His words hit too close to home, and she was on her feet before she was even aware of moving. "August, it's time for you to stop feeling sorry for yourself." She ordered in a no-nonsense tone. "Come back to town with me. We'll find Marco… "
He met her barely concealed anger with equal scorn. "You expect me to face him like this? A wood pile of failure?"
"Don't say that- "Mary Margaret began, looking stricken by his choice of words.
"You wanna help me?" August demanded, weakly raising a wooden hand to point at the door. "Leave. And don't tell anyone you saw me."
The air in Neal's room had been heavy before Tamara's arrival. Whatever he and Emma had discussed, it created enough energy between them to set Lillian's teeth on edge. The four of them were carefully eating bagels and sipping at hot cocoa, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with one another. Even Henry wasn't immune to the tension in the air, and he clearly struggled for a way to break it.
Emma gazed across the room, focused on Lillian and Neal, rather than Neal and his fiancee. He was seated between the two dark-haired women, and instead of devoting all his attention to the older of the two, he interacted more with Lillian. Tamara didn't seem concerned by it; she and Lillian had already exchanged several pleasant sentences that filled the otherwise silent room. Emma watched, still very much on edge by the signals she was getting from the way they acted around each other.
The both of them had claimed on more than one occasion that they considered themselves to be siblings of a sort. Their behavior, while unnerving to Emma, could be excused if they truly did love one another platonically. But there were some things that she couldn't shake, like the way they would smile at one another in a way that lit up the other's face. Or how when they walked side by side, his arm would wrap around her shoulders and tug her closer, while she wrapped an arm about his waist and did the same.
Or how whenever they embraced, their foreheads would press together, hugging so tightly it looked like they were trying to snap bones.
Gold hadn't seemed disturbed by their relationship, if it could even be called that, but the pawnbroker wasn't exactly someone whose judgement Emma would trust. Part of her wanted to demand the truth, but she knew she didn't have the right. Neal was only the father of her child, and ex from a part of her past that she would rather forget.
Clearing his throat as he chewed pensively on her bagel, Henry decided it was time to break the awkward silence. "So, how'd you guys meet?"
For a split second, both Neal and Tamara side-eyed one another sheepishly.
Smiling, with a fond chuckle, Tamara was the one who answered. "Um… well, I was super late to work, rushing like crazy, guzzling my giant coffee, when this guy crashed into me." She nodded in Neal's direction with another faint sound of laughter. "My coffee soaked my blouse; there was no time to change. So, Neal gave me his scarf to hide the stains. And he said I could keep it or call him if I wanted to return it. I decided to call, and, well, we've been together ever since."
"Sounds like fate," Emma pronounced with a laugh of her own. If it sounded forced, no one was tactless enough to mention it. "I've got to drop Henry off with his grandpa," she said, thankfully bringing the awkward breakfast to an end. "Thanks for the bagel."
"It was nice meeting you, Tamara." Henry smiled sweetly.
Behind him, Lillian rubbed her hands along his shoulders affectionately and smiled just as sweetly as Henry had. "It's so nice to finally meet you," she told Tamara.
"You too," Tamara replied with a smile of her own. "The both of you - all of you."
Lillian leaned down enough for Neal to enfold her in his arms, pressed a kiss to the curls that gathered near her temple. "See you later, Bae," she whispered.
He whispered something even Tamara couldn't hear and released her with a last, fond squeeze. As she rejoined Henry, Neal held out the decently sized storybook. "Here you go, man."
"Why don't you hold onto that?"
Smiling in return at his son's mischievous expression, Neal withdrew the book. "Okay, see you soon."
"See you later." Henry replied, allowing Emma to her him out the door.
As the door shut, taking the trio with them, Neal sagged with barely concealed relief. The meeting had been tense - he didn't need Lillian to tell him that - and he was more than happy that they'd avoided any more awkwardness thanks to Henry.
"Henry seems like a really great kid," Tamara said after mulling over what to say. The small, dark-haired boy was clearly the only safe topic to choose.
Neal smiled at her, setting down the storybook. "Yeah."
"He has your spirit."
"You think?"
Her smile softened and she shifted closer. Reaching for his hand, she laced their fingers together. "Yeah."
Neal basked in the no longer uncomfortable quiet, content to sit there with her. However, Emma's words, and Lillian's faint reminder, began to relentlessly repeat over and over in his mind. Sighing deeply, he pulled away to look her in the eye.
"There's something I need to tell you," he began, with a quiet intensity that made her sit up straighter. "Here's the thing. I'm, uh… I'm not from here. I'm from a place called The Enchanted Forest." He hadn't expected a positive reaction, but cringed all the same when all she did was stare at him. "I'm being serious. Here," with great care, he placed Henry's book on her lap. "Go ahead."
Humoring him, Tamara opened the book and began to flip through the pages, settling on a page with a young, dark-haired boy. "These are… fairy tales." She announced, clearly worried he'd lost his mind."
Neal nodded. "And they're real. In fact, they're more than real, they're history." He paused, swallowing thickly. "They're my history. See this little boy?" His finger touched down on the smooth illustration of his twelve year old self. "That's me."
"What the hell are you doing?"
The sudden coldness of her demeanor caught Neal off guard. "I'm trying… trying to be honest with you."
Before he could say another word, Tamara slammed the storybook shut and all but threw it at him. Jumping to her feet, she paced to the end of the couch before she turned to face him. "If you wanted to be honest, you would tell me what this is really about." She snapped, furious when he merely blinked up at her in confusion. "Cute blonde who was just here. Mother of your child?"
"Emma?"
"I'm not a fool, Neal. I saw the way you two look at each other."
"It's… it's not like that." He defended weakly, unprepared for the unrelenting onslaught she'd begun to throw at him.
She shook her head. "I think it is. I think it's why you wanted to hide under the table when Henry asked how we met. You didn't want her to hear the story." At that, Neal looked away, unable to refute her. The sight of it made her scoff. "If you wanna be with her, Neal, you could have told me instead of making up crap to force me away."
"No, no, I… I don't wanna force you away." He protested, shooting to his feet.
He went to reach for her, but she stepped out of reach. "Here's the thing, Neal," she said calmly, even though her hands were visibly trembling as she pulled on her coat. "When you're ready to be honest with me about yourself and your feelings, then come find me."
Enchanted Forest
"Fiona," Tiger Lily acknowledge, lips set in a thin line. "You're looking well. It's nice to know the years have been kind to you."
"Oh, why don't we skip the pleasantries my dear? After all, old friends don't need to stand on such ceremony." The Black Fairy's eyes twinkled with barely concealed malice. "Now, why don't you tell me why you're here before I call my child to rip your wings off."
At the threat, Tiger Lily shifted. She hadn't come for a fight; Blue had been very specific in her instructions. "I came to deliver a message."
"Oh, how delightful. From who?"
"The Blue Fairy. And myself," she added, hoping that their past would soften Fiona towards her mission. "Blue requests that you return Princess Katerina to her home. And that you do away with that monstrosity you've created. Sensing that her choice of words didn't sit well with Fiona, Tiger Lily carried on. "He is an affront against nature, Fiona, you must see that. And your abduction of the princess will win you no favors. Please, return her and give yourself and that creature up, and Blue will be lenient."
"'Lenient'?" Fiona repeated with a tinkling laugh that sounded much like broken glass. "Oh, don't make me laugh, my dear. If your precious Blue Fairy were any more lenient with me I'd have killed her years ago." Abruptly, she sobered and stalked toward the other fairy like a wraith. "Now, why don't you tell me why you're really here, hmm? You aren't just here to be Blue's errand sprite, are you? What care do you have for young Maia?"
Black, almond-shaped eyes narrowed at the goading expression Fiona wore.
"I am Katerina's fairy godmother." Tiger Lily told the Black Fairy coldly. "Her care means everything to me."
Storybrooke
The faint tinkling of the bell bothered Greg little as he dug into his peach pie. A smiling waitress had served it to him with more than a little apprehension; Greg had already gathered that out of towners were a rare bunch in Storybooke. Barely anyone had held a full conversation with him since he'd been discharged from the hospital.
"I hope you enjoy your pie," a low voice said from just behind him. "It's on me. I'm Regina Mills, mayor of Storybrooke." Greg swallowed the mouthful of pie and raised a brow at the dark-haired woman stand on the other side of his booth. "I'm also Henry's mother." She added before taking the seat across from him.
His eyes widened slightly before he nodded. "Oh, he-he's the cute little kid that was wandering through the woods. Right?"
Regina's answering smile was friendly. "Yes. I just wanted to thank you for calling me about him."
"Yeah, no, no sweat." He acknowledge with an awkward smile. "I-I have a spot spot for little kids in trouble."
She was watching him closely now, a faint crease between her carefully plucked brows. "I'm… I'm fairly certain we haven't met before, but… you do seem oddly familiar."
Greg savored another spoonful of pie before he answered. "I don't see how that's possible, unless… h-have you spent a lot of time in Carlisle, Pennsylvania?" He asked with a faint hint of laughter in his words.
She shared his amusement and chuckled along with her words. "I can't say that I have. Well," she stood, still smiling warmly at him. "If there's anything you need during your stay here… please don't hesitate to ask."
With that, she strutted away from the booth toward the door. When she was almost there, the door flew open and Mary Margaret rushed inside. She stopped short, almost colliding headfirst with the mayor, who she regarded with a wide-eyed, fearful stare.
"If I were you, I'd try the fish special." Regina recommended, tone rich with amusement. "It's right up your alley… blackened sole." Smiling at the pale, quivering mess Mary Margaret had become, the mayor strolled out of the diner, more than pleased with herself.
Shaken by her encounter, Mary Margaret didn't register Emma saying her name until her daughter repeated it several times. Clearing away the panic the sight of Regina had induced in her, the school teacher made her way to the bar where Emma and Marco sat.
"Hey, what's up? Why the urgent phone call?" Emma asked, eying her mother worriedly. She'd only caught the tail-end of the exchange between Regina and Mary Margaret, but could hazard a guess that it had been less than pleasant.
"It's August." Mary Margaret said at once, catching Marco's attention. "I found him."
"My boy? He's alive?" The carpenter asked, eyes all but bulging from his head.
Mary Margaret gave a brief, jerky nod of her head. "Yes, but… he's completely wooden." She explained, hoping to stave off any excited exclamations Marco might have made. "He's been living in an abandoned trailer down near the toll bridge."
"What can we do?" Emma demanded, rising rapidly from her seat, Marco at her heels. "Can we help him?"
"No," once more, the short-haired woman had to raise a hand to hold off any reactions to her words. "But I know someone who might be able to… Mother Superior."
"Yes, yes. The Blue Fairy." Marco was muttering with a tremulous, hopeful expression that broke Mary Margaret's heat. "She helped once. She can help again. She must!"
The three of them swiftly exited the diner, unaware of Tamara lurking several seats down at the bar. She pursed her lips in annoyance, thrown off by the newfound kink in her plan.
Mother Superior was easy to find, even without the aid of Lillian's magic. The teen had gone off with Henry and David, likely attempting to smooth things over with the blond-haired deputy. The moment the trio stepped foot on the convent grounds, Mother Superior joined them on the brick walkway, pale features pinched with worry.
"I know about August," she told them the moment his name was brought up. "He came to me shortly after the curse broke and asked if I would return him to what he was."
Emma narrowed her eyes at the fairy. "Why didn't you?"
"Because what he was is what he is." Just as Emma was beginning to understand why Lillian hated the nuns/fairies, Mother Superior turned to address Marco. "Do you remember the morning I found you on that beach all those years ago? The day I turned your son into a real boy?"
"Yes," Marco agreed hoarsely. "It was the happiest day of my life."
"I told Pinocchio so long as he remained brave, truthful, and unselfish, he would stay a real boy." Mother Superior reminded him gently. "But I'm afraid he did not. That is why he changed back. And that's why there's nothing I can do for him."
"It's true he's done some things he regrets. We all have. But shouldn't he have another chance?" As she made her impassioned plea on August's behalf, Mary Margaret was aware of the expression her daughter wore and determinedly ignored it.
"If there is still a path of redemption for August, it is one that he must travel on his own." Mother Superior responded, lips pursed in thought. "No one can force him, or it will not be true."
"Don't despair, Marco." Mary Margaret told the grieving father as he allowed the weight of the head nun's words to settle. "I know there's still hope for your son. There has to be."
Hidden in his run-down trailer, August was not surprised when he heard a knock at the door. Bile rising in his throat at Snow White's persistence, he painfully waddled to the door and shoved it open. "I told you to leave me alone!"
The rest of his angry shouts died on wooden lips when he registered the woman standing outside his door.
"Hey," Tamara greeted with a wide smile and toss of her long hair. "Long time."
August offered no resistance when Tamara invited herself in, and continued to stare at her in quiet shock as she surveyed his humble abode.
"Not much of a decorator." She observed dryly, turning to look at him with another wide smile. "Then again, I guess a man made of wood doesn't require much."
He was too stunned to give her mocking words any attention. "You can see me? You believe?"
"Do you think I would have chased down someone called 'The Dragon' if I didn't?" She asked, amused by how easily she'd unsettled him by her presence alone. She slipped the purse strap from her shoulder and placed it on the couch behind her.
"I don't understand." August finally verbalized his chaotic thoughts. "What are you doing in Storybrooke? How is this even possible?"
"What I'm doing in Storybrooke doesn't concern you." Tamara expressed bluntly. "But I need you to do something. And after what you pulled in Hong Kong, you owe me." She sat down and crossed her legs patiently.
"What could I ever do for you?"
"Leave." She entreated of him, smiling all the while. "It's a simple request, considering what I'm about to offer you."
Painfully, August managed to sit down on the free couch. "No, you're going to explain this." He insisted. "Did you follow me? Are you like me?"
"Magical?" She finished for him, tone making it clear she found the very idea laughable. "No, I'm quite human." She lounged back against the couch. "But forget for a second why I'm here and who I am and instead ask yourself the more important question… how? My cancer was a death sentence, remember?" She moved, resting forearms on her knees. "Yet… here I am."
"The Dragon."
"The liquid in the bottle… it worked. It cured me, August. And it can cure you, too." Her lips twitched when his eyes flashed to meet her own. "I still have some of it left. The bottle's in my apartment in New York. You can go get it. All I ask… is that you leave Storybrooke now and never return."
Those unnervingly blue eyes watched her carefully for several heartbeats before they fell to her hands. He replayed the conversation with Mary Margaret as his eyes alighted on the diamond ring Tamara wore on the fourth finger of her left hand. "Neal," he breathed and caught the displeased expression that flitted across her face. "You're the fiancee." When all she did was sigh in response, he began to badger her with more questions. "Are you and Neal here for the magic? Are you two trying to take the magic from Storybrooke?"
"Neal has nothing to do with any of this," Tamara answered, standing with an impatient sigh. "Okay? He knows as much as you do." She paced the floor for a moment before she turned back to him. "Actually, now you know a lot more. So do we have a deal?"
"I can't leave without knowing what you're doing here." August maintained, refusing to just up and leave the people he cared about again. He didn't want to be that man anymore.
"Sure, you can." She goaded before tilting her head mockingly. "And you will. You're the same man I left in a Hong Kong gutter… a man willing to do anything to save himself. And that's what I'm offering, August." She held up a set of keys. "Salvation."
"Are you sure?" Lillian pressed the cell phone closer to her ear, twisting away from where David and Henry were seated in the station. The former was engrossed in his paperwork, while the latter was working on homework. "Regina, you have to be absolutely sure."
"It's him," the mayor's voice echoed back. "I know it. You know it too, Lillian. You spent enough time with the boy that you should be able to sense it like I do."
At the older woman's words, Lillian rubbed at her temples. She could already feel the white-hot pain of the oncoming migraine. "This is bad."
"Which is why I'm asking for your assistance. Believe me, under any other circumstances, I'd gladly abstain from breathing in your general direction dear." Regina spat through the phone. "But, desperate times call for desperate measures. Meet me in five minutes."
The line went dead, leaving Lillian to stare at the phone in disgust. Sighing, she returned it to her pocket and reentered the main room of the station. David looked up at her approach, a faint smile, one that made the pain go away ever so slightly. They hadn't had enough time to talk everything through, but he had forgiven her for the part she played in Cora's death. And that was enough for her - it had to be.
"Hey," she greeted quietly so as to not disturb Henry. Like most of the other children, he'd fallen behind in his schoolwork due to recent events. "That was Neal - he and Tamara had a bit of falling out and he wants someone to run interference." The half-lie fell easily from her lips. Neal had texted her shortly before Regina's call, detailing that his fiancee had not reacted positively to the truth. So, she wasn't being completely untruthful.
Sometimes it scared her, how easily she could manipulate and blatantly lie to the people she claimed to care about.
David nodded understandingly. He wasn't too happy with the arrival of Neal's fiancee - he'd seen the way Emma looked at the father of her child - but he didn't wish any strife between anyone. "Okay, how long do you think you'll be gone? Henry wants to practice his swordsmanship for a bit soon, so we won't be here much longer."
"I won't be long."
After uttering that short promise, Lillian vanished in a swirl of purple smoke. Regina was waiting inside Lillian's room at Granny's, seated at the foot of the neatly made bed.
"Right on time." Regina praised scornfully, still rather miffed at the younger sorceress.
"Actually, I'd say I'm early," Lillian shot back, shrugging off her coat and tossing it on the bed.
The two dark-haired women regarded one another warily from across the room before Regina spoke.
"How do you do it?" She wanted to know, arching a slim eyebrow questioningly. Lillian mirrored the action, arms crossed defensively. "Blindly follow him for all these years - pretending that you mean anything to him other than a tool to be used and discarded once you're no longer useful. Just like my mother and I."
Narrowed blue slits became red as Lillian glared at the mayor. "If I wanted such insightful commentary about my life, I'd have scheduled a session with Archie. What is this about, Regina? Since when do you care about what I do with my life?"
"Oh, no, this isn't some misguided attempt at telling you I care about what you do," Regina corrected mildly, rising to her feet to stride to the door. "No. This is a warning - Rumpelstiltskin cares about no one but himself; the sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be." Refusing to allow Lillian to rise to the bait she'd just offered, the mayor shook her head. "But, enough about that. We have bigger problems than decades of bad blood."
Regina exited the room, leaving an inwardly shaken Lillian in her wake. Shaking herself firmly and determinedly putting the older woman's words out of her mind, she followed her fellow sorceress to the room of their resident tourist. It was empty, something that Regina had already verified with the front desk and suited their purposes.
When Greg returned to his room a mere ten minutes later, Lillian had gone over the room with a fine tooth comb and come up empty. Seating herself on the trunk at the end of the bed, while Regina faced the door to the bathroom, Lillian waited tensely for the man to enter the room.
Keys jingling as he unlocked the door, Greg paused mid-step when he caught sight of the two dark-haired women in his room. Lowering the cellphone from his ear, he set down the keys with a faint clatter on the nearest table.
"You know, I'm all set on towels… if that's why you're here." He announced flatly, disturbed by the unannounced visitors. "I air dry."
"I'm here because I realized why you look so familiar to me," Regina retorted, a winning smile on her red lips and she turned to face him. "It's because we have met before, haven't we?"
Lillian didn't give him a chance to refute the rhetorical questions Regina had posed.
"Owen," the young woman breathed, watching him like he was a particularity rare species of animal. "It is you, isn't it?"
Regina took over, producing a red and green lanyard from her coat pocket. "I kept this all these years as a reminder of our time together. You were just a boy when you gave this to me. Now look at you, all grown up." She raised a hand to trace his features, but Greg leaned away as if her touch was poisonous. She lowered her hand, unduly troubled by his averse reaction. "No wonder I didn't recognize you."
"Yeah, but I-I recognized you, because you look exactly the same, Regina." He acknowledged, knowing that the jig was up. He looked to Lillian as she stood to flank the mayor, blue eyes hard. "You too, Lillian. It's as if no time has passed for either of you."
Regina let out a modest chuckle. "Monthly juice cleanse," she replied, raising a hand to cup her smooth cheek. "Does wonders for the skin." Her tone changed, her entire demeanor, really, and she half-glared at him. "You could've come to me, Owen. You could've told me who you were and why you're here."
"Well, I-I think you know why I'm here."
Regina blinked at him innocently. "I honestly don't."
"I'm looking for my father."
"Your father?" Regina repeated, ignoring the disbelieving snort Lillian made at her response. "He left shortly after you did. I never saw him again."
"I don't believe you." His eyes landed on Lillian, who looked fairly bored with the whole proceedings. "Lillian, you remember my father, don't you? Where is he? Can you help me find him?"
She watched him, lips pressed into a thin line. Part of her longed to help him, if only in memory of that sweet little boy she'd shared breakfast with for those eventful days all those years ago. But another part, one that was much, much larger, refused to even consider it. Henry was the only one she wanted to protect right now, and she refused to put him in danger.
"He's not here, Owen." His face fell at her words. "I haven't seen him since the day you left - to my knowledge, he left after Sheriff Graham released him from lockup."
"I don't believe you."
"Be that as it may, it's the truth." Regina maintained, pleased Lillian realized how important it was that they were seen as a united front.
"People don't just disappear, Regina." Greg shot back.
"Scared little boys tend to have overactive imaginations." Regina retorted icily.
"Well, I'm not a scared little boy anymore, madame mayor." He spat her title like a curse. "It's taken me a long time to get back here. I'm not leaving without my father."
"I'm afraid you are, because he's not here." Regina told him, sidestepping him to make her way to the door. Lillian followed on her heels, wishing this encounter was done and over with already. "I'll let Granny know that you'll be checking out tomorrow."
"Or what?"
"Or you'll find out that people can just disappear, Greg." Lillian hissed out before she stormed out of the room.
Regina spared Greg a faint, mocking smile before she followed the younger woman.
They went their separate ways without a word, Regina heading for the exit, while Lillian made for the room Bae had rented. He nearly ripped the door off the hinges before she even knocked, tugging her into the room without a word.
"Bae," she whispered when he raised saddened, bloodshot eyes to meet her own. "What happened?"
Enchanted Forest
"How sweet," Fiona cooed, circling Tiger Lily, who watched her through slitted eyes. The other fairy had gone still after her declaration, clearly tense and prepared for a fight. The Black Fairy had no intention of pandering to her whims. "Come to save a fairy godchild again, have you? It worked out so well the last time."
Tiger Lily tensed at the mention of their shared past… and her greatest failure. "I did not come here to drag up the past, Fiona. I only came to deliver a message, and I have done the task entrusted to me by the Blue Fairy." There was nothing more to say or do; she had been forbidden from doing otherwise by Blue and had no intentions of disobeying her.
"Is that it?" The Black Fairy taunted as Tiger Lily turned and began to stalk away. "Is that your wholehearted attempt to save young Katerina? Though," her lips twisted, "I suppose I should expect no less - you've never had the stomach to do what needs to be done. You never have and you never will."
In a flutter of wings, Tiger Lily stood toe to toe with the Black Fairy, teeth bared in a fearsome snarl. "I have always done what is bet for the children in my care," she raged at the other fairy. "My only, and greatest sin, was believing that a mortal such as yourself could have handled a fairy's duty! You endangered hundreds of children - including your own. I might have failed your son, but I will not fail Katerina."
She raised her wand, and in the process caught the Black Fairy's flinch despite the placid expression she wore. Sparing the other fairy a derisive sneer, Tiger Lily waved her wand and shrank, flitting away from the enchanted hideaway, promising grimly to herself that she would return soon.
She would not fail Katerina the way she had failed Rumpelstiltskin.
Storybrooke
"This is all my fault." Marco whispered hoarsely, breaking the quiet, uneasy silence that had settled over the trio as they tramped through the forest. The guilt, already a heavy burden to bear in recent months, threatened to crush him unless he said something.
"Our children make their own decisions, Marco." Mary Margaret rushed to reassure him, resting a gloved hand on his arm. He grimaced at her attempts to comfort him and shied away from her touch. "You can't blame yourself for anything that's happened."
"Yes, I can." Marco persisted, stomach turning at the upbeat tone of Mary Margaret's voice. He had no business accepting feigned happiness from her after what he had done to her family. "And you should blame me, too. The wardrobe I built for you, the one that transported Emma to this world… she did not go alone."
His words stopped Mary Margaret dead in her tracks. "Of course she did," she told him, turning to face him fully. "The wardrobe only had enough magic to transport one person."
"No, that was a lie I made the Blue Fairy tell you." The floodgates opened, and the words rushed out of him before he could even think about what he was saying. "It had enough magic to transport two, and it did… your daughter… and my son… Pinocchio."
"I could have gone with her? With Emma?"
Her heartbroken whispered echoed loudly in Emma's ears, and for a moment she felt like she was about to pass out. Part of her longed to comfort her mother, the woman who was once her best friend, but she couldn't. She still wasn't good at this sort of thing, being a daughter, a mother… being part of a family at all.
"There is no apology I could give that could ever make up for what I did." Marco was saying, his words a dull roar to Mary Margaret. "But I am so sorry."
Silence reigned for several heartbeat, during which Mary Margaret stared at Marco, eyes unfocused. Marco returned her stare breathlessly, while Emma looked between them, feeling horribly out of place. Before he could apologize once more, Marco watched Mary Margaret's hand snap out and connect with his cheek, sending his head reeling.
"Mary Margaret!" Emma jumped between the two of them. "What are you doing? He's apologizing."
"No, no," Marco placated, one hand pressed to the red skin of his cheek. "That's okay. I deserve that."
"No, that wasn't me." Mary Margaret whispered, gazing fearfully at her hand as if it belonged to a stranger. "Marco, I am so sorry, I'm not myself." She struggled to meet either of their eyes as she spoke. "You just made a mistake. I would have done the same thing for my child. I forgive you. You were protecting your son."
"No," Marco denied, refusing to allow them to paint his actions in a positive light. He had caused so much suffering through his selfish choices - even if he though he'd made them for the right reasons. "I burdened him with a weight no child should have to bear, and I called it love."
Opening her mouth to respond, Mary Margaret instead found her attention drawn to the sight just past his shoulder. Catching her eye, Marco turned to see the trailer she had spoken of and, shelving their conversation for later, all but sprinted the remaining distance to the decrepit mobile home.
Flinging open the door, Marco peered inside, heart lodged somewhere near his mouth. As he fully entered the trailer, Mary Margaret and Emma right behind him, his heart felt like it would burst the longer he looked around the seemingly empty space.
"Where is he?" Emma asked her mother quietly, unnerved by the empty, but clearly lived-in, place.
It was Marco who answered.
"Gone."
Across town, in Tamara's car, August sped toward the town line. He didn't fear it as the other citizens did as he hadn't been cursed like them, and the sight of the 'Now Leaving Storybrooke' sign filled him with relief instead of dread. It was much more painful to drive and, had he thought he could handle it, he might have tried to drive his motorcycle back to New York.
As he drove farther down the road, the car rocked violently when he went right over a pothole. Cursing at the pain the movement sent through his wooden limbs, a flutter of movement caught his eye. A picture had fallen from the visor, one he'd last seen in the Dragon's meeting room, forgotten by its owner. The longer he stared at the picture, the louder his conscious began to scream at him.
Grunting, he suddenly jerked his grip on the steering wheel, tires screeching, to make a U-turn back in the direction of Storybrooke. Thankfully, there was little traffic on the roads, as per usual, and he reached the police station in record time.
"EMMA!" He called, tearing into the station, breathless and in pain with every step. "Hello?! Is anyone here?!" Spinning in a circle, realizing that no one was there, his gaze fell on the phone on the desk. Stumbling towards it, he quickly dialed Emma's cell number, praying she'd pick up.
Across Storybrooke in the woods, Emma felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her coat. "Emma Swan," she answered, her business tone catching the attention of her companions.
"Emma! It's August."
"August," Emma breathed, raising her wide eyes to meet Marco's.
"Listen to me, I have to warn you," August began, wishing he could do it in person, but realizing they didn't have the luxury of time.
"August… " Emma's next words were garbled in crackling static, resulting in August hearing only every other word. "Warn… what…?"
"Emma!" August shouted into the phone, blood running cold when a voice came from behind him.
Tamara stood, holding a pair of wire cutters in one hand that she let drop to the floor. "You disappoint me, August," she chastised the wooden man coolly.
"I know what you did to the Dragon," August told her quietly, phone slipping from his fingers to clatter to the floor. "A few days after you left, I went back to beg him to fix me, and we both know what I found. At the time, I was too wrapped up in myself to wonder what had happened, to question who could have done such a thing." He dug through a pocket, producing the picture that had helped change his mind, and held it out to her. "But then I found this photo in your car, and it hit me. You and your grandmother... you went back there. You killed him."
"You should have left." Tamara refused to acknowledge his accusations. "I counted on you to wanna save yourself."
"Maybe that's what I'm trying to do." He scoffed lightly, well aware of how he sounded; he didn't need to look at the disbelieving expression on her face. "I've lived a life of selfishness, cowardice, and dishonesty. And only I can cure that, not magic, not science. Just me." His voice hardened with his next words. "I care about the people in this town. And if you wanted The Dragon's little bit of magic, well, you have hit the mother lode here, and you are not going to harm anyone to get it. I'm going to warn them."
"No," Tamara whispered finally, almost sadly, and August stared at her in bewilderment. "You're not."
Before he could say a word, Tamara lunged forward, taser at the ready. Grunting and gasping loudly in pain, almost biting through his tongue to keep the screams of pain in, August writhed as electricity coursed through his body.
Approaching the station, unaware of what was happening on the inside, Emma and David led their family toward the building.
"If August is still at the station, he's not picking up," David lowered the phone from his ear, having gotten a dial tone for the fifth time.
Before anyone could say a word, August came stumbling out of the front door to the station, wooden skin faintly smoking from the taser attack.
Beside his grandma, Henry's eyes widened at the sight and he spoke a single word. "Lillian."
"August!" Emma almost screamed, terrified by the stilted way he was moving. Racing to be at his side, she was barely able to catch him before his knees buckled. "August!"
"Oh!" For a man of his years, Marco was surprisingly spry and managed to make it to Emma's side before any of the others. "My child, my boy, my boy," he whispered the words like a prayer, reaching for August's wooden hand. "What happened to you?"
"I'm so sorry, papa." Was all August could wheeze out as pain wracked through his body.
"No," Marco pressed his lips to the wooden hand, eyes wet with tears. "There is nothing to apologize for, everything is going to be alright."
August managed a weak smile for his father before his eyes flickered over to Emma. "Emma."
She leaned closer until his lips were almost touching her ear, lashes suspiciously damp. "August."
"Emma… she's… " His words were cut off with a ragged gasp, and he inhaled to try again. "She… " This time, there was a rattling exhale that cut him off, and he fell limp in Emma's arms, eyes staring off, unseeing.
Marco knew immediately. "Oh, no," there was an awful crack in his voice, one that sent a spasm of pain through everyone that head. "Not again." Shoulders shaking with great, heaving sobs, Marco bent his head over August's still chest, allowing the tears to finally flow once more.
Rapid footsteps approaching drew the attention of the others, and they turned to see Lillian and Neal all but sprinting toward them. The former looked terrified, while the latter, who was being all but dragged by his scarf, just looked confused.
Neal's confusion quickly turned to pained realization when he registered the scene. "August?"
"No," Mary Margaret muttered brokenly as Lillian broke from Neal and fell to her knees on August's free side. "It can't end this way. He was supposed to get a second chance."
"What the hell happened?" Lillian demanded tersely, glowing hands posed over his wooden chest. Struggling to find some semblance of a sign of life, she bit her lip and began to mutter softly under her breath. Henry joined her side, listening intently to what she was saying, but all he could catch was something about 'flowers' and 'glowing'.
"Someone killed him to stop him from telling us something." Emma answered, rising to stand on shaking knees. "He used his last dying breath to warn us. I won't let that be in vain."
Henry stilled at her words. "Brave… truthful… and unselfish." He whispered under his breath, the rightness of his words settling within him. "Brave, truthful, and unselfish." He announced much more loudly, gaining the attention of everyone. "Don't you see what this means? That's what Pinocchio was supposed to be. There's still hope. We need The Blue Fairy."
Mother Superior, slightly out of breath, all but appeared behind him. "I'm here, Henry."
"What does Henry mean?" Mary Margaret all but pounced on the Blue Fairy.
"I was able to turn Pinocchio into a real boy after he sacrificed his life for Marco's." Mother Superior reminded her gently, eyes falling to where August and his father were. "If his actions today were indeed brave, truthful, and unselfish, then you're right. There's a chance I can do it again."
"Please, I beg of you," Marco whispered painfully, blinking past the tears. "Try."
Gesturing for Lillian to clear the way - the brunette gladly abandoned her spot to take her former spot at Neal's side, Henry between them - the head nun raised her wand. Making several complicated wand movements, a glow spread from the tip of the wand to August, enveloping him completely. There was a faint whoosh of magic, one that made Lillian grit her teeth in disgust. Behind her, she sensed the approach of Tamara before the woman said anything, though chose not to say a word.
The glow cleared, revealing a little red-haired boy dressed in out of place clothing. Stirring, as if coming out of a long sleep, Pinocchio began to shift, eyes fluttering open to peer up at Marco. "Father?"
Tears sprang to Marco's eyes once more, though this time out of joy. "Pinocchio."
"Look," the little boy exhaled, raising his arms to peer at them in delight. "Look. I'm a real boy. I'm a real boy!"
Chuckling, Neal turned at the faint noise of disbelief from behind him to see Tamara watching with wide eyes. "Honey."
"It's… it's true." She stuttered, clearly out of her depth. She said no more, not even when Lillian and Henry slipped away to give them some kind of privacy.
Heart lighter than it had been in what felt like ages, Mary Margaret exhaled deeply, leaning into David's comforting embrace. On her husband's other side, Lillian and Henry stood, watching with fond smiles.
Mother Superior knelt down to Pinocchio's level once Marco had helped the boy to his feet. "Do better this time, Pinocchio." She playfully chided, lightly tapping him on the nose with a smile.
"Pinocchio?" Tamara repeated, looking like she was about to pass out. "That's… "
Neal looked ready to catch her. "Yeah."
"Pinocchio?" Emma began gently, somewhat unnerved by the sight of the little boy who she had kissed as an adult. "I have to ask you a question. I need you to think real hard, okay?" She knelt to his level, hands placed gently on his shoulders. "Before you turned into a little boy, you were trying to tell us something very important. Do you remember? You were trying to warn us about something."
"I… I don't remember." He answered after several moments of screwing up his face thoughtfully. During those moments, Tamara scarcely dared to breath, unaware of the shrewd, appraising look Lillian sent in her direction. "If I did, I would be truthful. I promise."
Disappointed, Emma forced a smile and squeezed his shoulder in thanks. Allowing Marco to pull his son close, Emma went to her family. David drew her under his free arm, holding her tightly, while she pulled Henry along with them. Refusing to allow himself to be separated from Lillian again, Henry reached out and snagged her hand in his.
Neal watched Lillian willingly let herself be led with the Charming family. She'd call if she needed backup, though he doubted she would, so he turned to more important matters at hand.
"If you wanna head back to New York, I wouldn't blame you," he said before Tamara could voice her no doubt jumbled thoughts. He wouldn't, and couldn't, stop her if she chose to go. "I know this isn't what you signed up for."
"What I signed up for… is you." Tamara told him after a moment of silence, sidling up to him to take his hand in hers. "I love you."
Neal gazed at her adoringly. "I can't believe how lucky I was to have met you."
Forcing a smile, one Neal had never been able to see through, Tamara threw both arms around him. "We were both lucky."
"Henry," Emma groaned, sitting on the first few steps to the second floor the moment she entered the loft. Her son paused, crossing the floor to stand in front of her while his grandparents followed them in. Lillian had left them just outside the loft, promising she'd visit once everything had settled down. "We gotta talk. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied to you about your dad - I promise I will never lie to you again." Tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked them back. "Just don't push me away."
Moved by her heartfelt apology, and the fact that Pinocchio's ordeal struck too close to home for all involved, Henry fell into his mother's arms. "I won't."
Through the curtains blocking off their bed, David watched his daughter and grandson embrace tightly, both sighing deeply, before they ascended the stairs to the second floor. Grateful for the pseudo privacy, he turned to his antsy wife.
"Ready to tell me what's going on?"
"Yes," she answered at once, holding up a hand to forestall any commentary. "But before I do, you have to promise you won't get mad."
"That always means good news." At the irritated expression she pulled, David sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "I promise."
"David… last week, I went to Regina's house and confronted her."
He was off his feet before he even registered moving. "Are you - " He caught himself, lowering his voice with a wary look to the ceiling. "Are you out of your mind?"
"You promised not to get mad."
"I'm not mad."
She blinked at his obviously upset, strained tone. "I can see that."
"She could have killed you."
"I know." She answered simply, causing him to blink at her in growing horror. "That's why I went… so she would kill me."
David couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What?"
"I couldn't take the guilt over what I did to Cora. I could barely breathe." She explained, letting all of those bottled up feelings out once and for all. "I told her to end it, and she ripped out my heart. And when she took it out, my heart, David… it had started to blacken because of what I did."
Concern began to swell within him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because telling you makes things real, and I needed to believe it wasn't, that I could find a way to stop it, that redemption was possible."
"It is," David reassured her. "Look at August."
"But it cost him… everything."
"Oh," reaching out, he drew his dark-haired wife into his arms, embracing her tightly, relieved when she returned the embrace for the first time in weeks. "You are not him, Mary Margaret, and you sure as hell aren't Regina." He promised, pulling away to meet her eye. "Which means those are not the only two options. We'll find another way. I know it."
"What makes you so sure?"
David raised a hand to rest it over her heart, smiling gently. "This does," he whispered as a trembling smile formed on her lips. "And I know it better than anyone."
Pacing in his room at Granny's, Greg sighed in relief when the person on the other end of the phone finally picked up. "Hey, why haven't you called me back? Where are you?"
The rapid fire questions barely made it past his lips before there was a knock at the door. Confused, he crossed the room and opened the door, phone still in hand. He almost dropped his own phone at the sight of the dark-haired woman resting on the door frame.
"Sorry I'm late," Tamara sighed deeply, cutting off the call with a press of the button. "It's been a heck of a day. I don't have much time, Neal's in the shower." Her voice turned less serious, more playful. "I only have a few minutes."
Greg immediately reached out to enfold her in his arms. "Then let's not waste them."
Both grinning like fools, they reached toward one another, lips meeting in a passionate kiss as the door swung shut in their wake. It didn't, however, shut fast enough to block the scene from the eyes of the person watching from the corner.
Stepping out from her hiding place in the shadows, Lillian, red-eyed and all but snarling in rage, glared at the door, wishing she could send a fireball straight through it.
Thoughts? Comments? Questions?
AN: One of my least favorite episodes, so this chapter was a bit of a doozy to right.