Title: Meant to Be
Alternate Title: There is no Excuse for This
Summary: Post-Season 3, but not delving into Season 4's work with time portals and Frozen characters. Introducing new characters and answering the show's mysteries with headcannons. Because sometimes, things just happen differently.
-
Chapter Two: Skadoo
Chapter Summary: An unfamiliar person arrives in Storybrooke.
A/N: Hi there! So sorry I didn't include a note in my first chapter. I normally try to leave some sort of communication with my readers in every chapter, but I was so eager to get the first one up that I just forgot about it.
Fun fact: I found the Really Bad Analogies post on my facebook, and I literally included that whole thing just so I could have an excuse to use them for something. I will shamelessly reference media-related things for fun in this story.
If you have anything you'd like to ask about or comment on, feel free to review :) I love to hear from my readers, and random messages are always welcome!
-
It was another couple days before Emma got back at the helm of being a sheriff. Her first day back was a Wednesday. At eight in the morning, she came scrambling in with a donut in her mouth, and went absent-mindedly through some paperwork that was stacked haphazardly on the desk. She didn't even notice the person in the cell, until he said something:
"Um...hello?"
She jumped and uttered a muffled cry into her donut, then quickly pulled it out from her teeth and demanded; "What are you doing here? Who are you?"
"My name is Steven," he answered; "and I'm asking myself that same question,"
Out from behind him came a girl in a blue hoodie. She appeared to be of Asian descent and had a big, beaming smile on her face, as though she had accomplished something great.
"This is Azzie," he said; "She's my familiar. If you let us out of here, I'll try to explain everything,"
Emma, after inspecting the cell door from the outside, simply walked over and opened it.
"It wasn't locked,"
Flashback to Unknown Universe
In the previous weeks.
It was the middle of the afternoon. Officer Penn- now, really "just Steven-" was rather enjoying his afternoon away from work. It was a particularly noisy day, with multiple shops and fruit-cart owners clamoring for business. On the side of the road was a scraggly-looking man in what appeared to be old robes, sitting with a canvas and a few different paints. There was a woman in front of him in an old wooden rocking chair.
"What's that?" asked his mother, coming up behind him.
"Looks like an artist painting portraits. You guys want one?"
Before either of his parents could answer, the man spoke- with a deep, gravelly voice they didn't expect. "'Tis my gift, boy," he handed the woman a painting. "I can paint pictures from the future,"
His previous client glanced down at her painting. It was a church building from the inside, with rows of people in black attire.
"A funeral? I'm...going to die?"
"Not yet. See?" he pointed to a spectator. "That's you,"
"Then...who?"
"That, I can't say. I can only paint your future,"
She nodded and handed him a fistful of coins. "Thank you, Mr. Kohler,"
He nodded and sent her on her way. By then, Steven was already pretty skeptical. This may well have been a world where magic was everywhere, but that didn't keep the con-men at bay. In fact, it bolstered them. If you thought magicians and false prophets were a dime a dozen in a magic-less world, there were a ton more here. Of course she would attend another funeral in her life.
"What about you, boy?"
He froze.
"Come on, indulge an old man. First one's free,"
He sighed and turned back to his parents. "You guys mind?"
"Not at all, you go ahead," his mother smiled. "I want to go look at the jewelers again. Come on, Thomas,"
"Alright. Meet back up with us, Steven,"
He nodded and approached the chair. "Go ahead, then,"
"Splendid! You can relax a little, it's not like a regular portrait. You don't have to hold still,"
From this proximity, the man smelled strongly of ale. It was a testament to all mankind that he was coherent enough to talk and steady enough to lift the brush. He tried to relax.
"You want something to drink, officer? I have some ale to spare,"
Why wasn't he surprised? "No, thank you; I prefer not to drink,"
"Suit yourself," the man shrugged and took a swig out of a small, tin paint can- probably his version of a shotglass- either that, or he was drunk enough to thoroughly enjoy drinking paint. Steven really regretted having sat down. "What's your name, anyways?"
"Steven. You?"
"Carl Kohler. I came with a last name,"
When the officer didn't reply, the painter seemed to take the hint. A couple more brush strokes later, he handed the painting over.
It was definitely an odd picture- himself behind bars, standing behind him a little girl whom he'd never seen in his life. He hadn't even met that many Asians in this town. "Who's this supposed to be?" he asked, even though he already knew the thing was a farce.
"You've never met her?"
"No,"
There was a pause. The drunk painter was either thinking, or had just had a moment of lucidity in the alcohol haze and realized he was actually really confused. Finally, he said; "Do you know what familiars are, officer?"
"Human spirits who manifest as pets," he answered as though it were some kind of quiz.
"Perhaps she's yours,"
Steven said nothing, but began digging in his pocket. He grabbed a scant handful of coins.
"I said the first one's free, boy,"
"I know what you said," he took the man's arm and plopped the money down in his hand. "Buy yourself some food or something, 'kay? Something other than booze. Take something home, to your family,"
"Family?" Carl scoffed. "Well, thanks for the sentiment,"
"At least get yourself a glass," Steven said, motioning with his gaze towards the paint tin he'd been drinking out of. "And...maybe get a shave, too. Just my advice. You might get more customers if people could see your face,"
Carl bellowed out a drunken laugh, halting Steven from his standing motion. "Deal," was all he said.
There was, after that, no more to be said, so Steven simply left.
The Next Day
Cont. Flashback
Officer Penn stood outside of an old house that looked to be abandoned. The front lawn was way over-grown and populated with insects crawling everywhere. In his right hand, he clutched a piece of paper that read "Warrant for a Natural Search." This classification meant he could investigate using his five senses, but no magic. That warrant would have to come later.
"Azzie," he snapped his fingers and his dog- a blue merle-coated mutt- stood beside him in an instant. "Come on. Let's play Clue,"
The dog barked in agreement as Steven picked the lock. Azure- also called 'Azzie'- rushed ahead of her owner. He didn't bother telling her to slow down. Out of his pocket, he pulled a sketch pad, complete with a pencil and began sketching the lay-out of the house.
It was minimally furnished, with only a hand-carved wooden chair in the living room to sit on. Beside it was a small end table with a candle on it, and then a bookcase- maybe about three feet in length on all sides- with only two shelves. Inside, there were exactly five books, but there were also articles from newspapers detailing the recent presidential elections.
So far, the victim was a craftsman with an interest in politics. He flipped the page, but before he could start again, he heard a demanding whine coming from the bathroom.
"Yes, dear," he called out to his dog with a healthy degree of sarcasm. Officer Penn approached and looked inside the door. There was a soft dust print on the side of the bathtub left from his dog. He looked inside and found the plug still in the drain, holding in a little water. "Good thinking," he patted her head, then made a note on the pad.
Once that was done, Azzie left the room in favor of another- the bedroom where the body was found. It was the most furnished room he'd seen so far, with an actual bed and then two mattresses on the floor. A dusty pawprint rested on a nearly empty bottle of wine. It took a minute to figure out that there were splashes of blood on the dark brown glass. The blood stains on the dingy beige carpet had an unnatural purple tint; he took note of it, though it wasn't terribly strange for someone's blood to be a little odd in color. Azzie nosed the splotches on the carpet and barked. Steven sighed.
"Speaking dog is not my power, Azzie,"
She whined, wagged her tail, and left the room. He stayed behind this time, to investigate more of the evidence. There was a large dresser in the room, some drawers closed and some wide open and over-flowing with clothes. It was looking more and more like some sort of hide-out every second. Since there were no paintings on the wall, he planted one- on top of the dresser; the one he'd gotten in town the previous day. It was something like a "bug," for someone with the power to jump inside pictures and access a "recording" of what happened. At least he'd be able to see if the criminal returned to the crime scene. If there were any other paintings in here, he would have been able to see what exactly happened on the night of the crime, but there weren't.
"Bark! Bark-bark!"
"Be patient," he scribbled down a few more noes, then met up with his dog in the kitchen. What he found was Azure, stretched up on her hind legs, pawing at a closed cabinet door. He opened it and found probably a hundred medicines, some of which were herbs or plants. As per usual, he sketched it, and listed the names of the ones he could identify.
"Looks like we've busted open more than just this murder case,"
Azzie tilted her head. He checked the other cabinets and made sketches. Within the next few minutes, he was done.
"Time to go sort all this out," he said, pocketing the pen. "Let's go, Azzie,"
-
Sheriff Swan certainly didn't know of any fairytales that involved a detective named Steven. There was enough mythology on shape-shifting animals, but- no detectives.
Nevertheless, she knew he was telling the truth.
"You're probably going to be here a while, Detective," she informed him. According to any and all sources, he should never have found his way in here in the first place. He was...an error in the system. "I don't know how you found your way in, and I don't know how we'll get you home. I'd make myself comfortable," Emma pulled out a newspaper to offer to him.
"Thanks," the took the newspaper uneasily. "Is there...uh...anything I can do to speed the process along?"
"If there is, I'll be in touch," she swiveled in her seat and shut the drawer. "Right now, I have to figure this out,"
He nodded hesitantly and left with both the child and the paper.
-
"That's what he told you?" Regina asked incredulously, lifting a brow as she heard Emma's story. Her front door was open, with the blonde standing outside.
She nodded. "He didn't seem to have any memory loss or confusion. It sounded like he wound up here on accident,"
"Yeah, except for one thing. It took one of the most powerful magicians in all the worlds centuries to come up with a spell that would bring us here. You don't just 'accidentally wind up in Storybrooke,'"
"Well, he wasn't lying,"
"Maybe it's a false memory, or a lapse in the magic- I don't know, but I've never even heard that name before,"
"...okay," Emma sighed.
"The only one who might know other than me is-"
"Gold, I know," but he still had three more days left on his 'honeymoon.'
"Okay. Well, go on, I have better things to do than stand here and let the air out," Regina started to close the door, then stopped. "Oh. You might ask Henry if he can identify him,"
That was a novel idea. "Yeah, thanks,"
And then she actually shut the door.
-
David didn't know anyone by the name of Steven Penn, and as sheriff he hadn't booked anyone recently enough for them to be in the sheriff's holding cell. The only one left who might have answers was relatively unreachable. Emma called his phone until the line went dead, and still got nothing. She tried the shop. The sign was flipped to "Closed" and he door was actually locked this time.
Sheriff Swan sucked in a deep breath of exasperation and puffed her cheeks as she let it out.
What exactly was she supposed to do now?
-
"Hello! How are you today, sir?" Ruby approached the table with a notebook and pencil in her hands.
It was Steven sitting there, across from a young girl. She wondered if this girl was his daughter, and if so, how- since she was of a different nationality- but refrained from asking. He responded with a dreary, disoriented look.
"As well as I could expect," was his answer.
"Would you like something to drink?"
"Yeah, I'll..." he struggled with the menu items. "How about just water?" it was the only thing he had a concept of on the whole list, aside from tea, which he never really liked.
"Sure! And something to eat?"
He smiled sheepishly, glancing down at still more text. It was clear that he had no idea what anything was.
"You know...why don't I just...bring you some samples from our lunch menu, and then you can decide?"
"...yeah, that might be nice, thanks,"
Where exactly had he ended up? Jumping inside a picture had never taken him away from home before. Azzie seemed completely undisturbed by the whole thing. The only thing he knew was that he needed to get back. His wife was due to go into labor within the next few weeks. It didn't help that this English just seemed so weird- it was normal one minute, but then there was "soda" or "bologna" and he would get snapped back into reality.
Pretty soon, the waitress came back with a tray and tiny plastic cups that had various food items in them. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you before, but this will add another dollar to your charge,"
He nodded to show he understood, and started trying whatever was picked at random.
"That's Granny's Signature Burger. It's a best seller here," she explained.
"I can see why, it's fantastic!" some of the frustration disappeared from his face. Ruby grinned with a delight to see his mood improve. Steven was eager to try the rest.
"That one's...um...experimental. I'm trying to create my own signature dish..." perhaps she should have considered this better and not brought a piece of a hot chicken sandwich to someone who couldn't even puzzle his way through the menu. His eyes dialated and he choked. "Oh-!" she practically squeaked, patting his back instinctively.
He brought himself back after a second.
"I-I'm so sorry, I-I didn't-" Ruby couldn't get the words out.
He shook his head. "No worries, no worries," his voice was still a bit strained. "I liked it, I just- wasn't expecting that,"
Azzie was grinning with the utmost amusement, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Steven took a drink of his water. Then, he simply took another small cup with something inside it.
"And, what's this?"
"It's our family chili recipe. Be careful, that one's a little spicy,"
He chuckled. "I'll be ready this time," he took the small spoonful that was in there and tried it. Immediately after the food hit his tongue, he set the cup down on the tray and pounded the table. Ruby, shocked and horrified that this might happen again, reached for him, but he pushed her away.
"This is my favorite thing so far," he said once he finished; "How do I-"
She giggled. "I'll get it, that's...that's my job. What about her?"
The little girl played with the menu, not even trying to read it.
"What do they usually order?"
"Usually, uh, they either get chicken or a burger..."
"Well, you can bring her one of those...'hamburger' things, then,"
"And to drink?"
"Maybe some milk?"
The waitress disappeared with that tray. After she was gone, a boy came out of one of the booths and approached him with some hesitance.
"Hey, there. My name's Henry. Who 're you?"
Was this considered normal? Did people in this world simply walk up to tables and introduce themselves?
Maybe it was just the town. There were friendlier towns back home, after all.
"I'm Steven. This is Azzie- short for Azure," the little girl immediately turned to face Henry. She scooted to the edge of the booth and raised her forearm, elbow bent with palm facing down- like a dog doing the "shake" command. The pre-teen boy was slow to take the hint, but he got it and shook her hand.
"What's 'Azure' mean?"
"Blue," Steven answered. "It's a shade of blue,"
"Oh," he grinned with relief. "So, is she a fairy?"
"I'm sorry, is she a what?"
"Oh, um, nevermind," Henry had stuck his foot in his mouth somehow. Maybe he should have considered the possibility that this guy didn't know about magic. He didn't even know how to explain himself, so he just changed the topic. "Have you ever been here before?"
"Absolutely not,"
"So, what brings you here?"
He paused at drinking his water to answer. "I landed here by accident. I'm not from...'here,'"
"Really?" even this kid was in disbelief. Steven sighed, no longer even remotely interested in this conversation. "Have you seen the sheriff yet?"
"No. I was at the sheriff's department, but I only saw a woman,"
"A woman? ...was her name 'Emma?'"
Steven hesitated. "Why do you ask so many questions?" but then he nodded.
"She is the sheriff," he told him. "Emma Swan. She's also my mom,"
The detective was in the middle of drinking water when he heard that the woman was a sheriff. He choked, spitting the water all over the table.
"...uhh..." Henry furrowed his brows.
"Come on back to the table, Henry," a man's voice called.
"Yeah, our dinner's here," a woman with short, black hair informed as Ruby sat down the plates over at their table. The pre-teen awkwardly made his way back to that table without saying anything more.
Steven wiped up the mess with some napkins. The waitress came over to help;
"Was he bothering you?"
He smiled politely. "Ah, he's just a kid, I guess,"
"Yeah, that's...Henry. He's...definitely one of a kind,"
Steven nodded.
"Your order is coming right up. Would you like a refill?"
"Yes, please,"
"And I'll bring her another milk,"
The girl left, and he looked to Azzie.
"Are you a fairy?" he joked. She just smiled at him. "Nah. You're not a fairy,"
The drinks returned with the food. Apparently, the "chili" came with a "side" salad (it didn't seem any different than a regular salad, but smaller) and crackers and "burgers" came with "french fries."
"You should try putting this on your fries," Red handed Azure a bottle of red sauce labeled "ketchup." She gazed at it quizzically, then obediently took it and tried a little. Steven was absolutely certain he'd never seen such a look of pure glee, and all he could do was laugh.
"Alright, you two go ahead and enjoy your meals, and call for me if you need anything,"
When the meal was over, that young girl came back to their table.
"The total is seventeen-oh-one," she set the receipt down.
He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins Ruby had certainly never seen before. She stared at them in shock as he set them down in her hand, looking incredibly nervous and confused.
"Is that not enough?"
"...umm..." she looked at him, then back to the coins, over and over, in rapid succession. "...uhh..." she struggled to get herself together. "...hang on..." she left the table and disappeared behind the door to the kitchen. It wasn't long before an indignant, elderly woman came out.
"What exactly is going on here?" her tone was less than pleasant.
"I have no idea," he answered honestly.
"What the hell is this?" she held up one of the coins.
"It's...money...?" what else was he supposed to say?
Granny crossed her arms and huffed, thrown off for a second. Realizing that he wasn't playing some kind of prank, she simply told him "Well, that money's no good here. You couldn't use that anywhere in America,"
"..." he was flabbergasted. "...I'm...from America..."
"What's going on over here?" the adult male from the table Henry was sitting at stopped them in the middle of the argument.
"Nothing, I'm just being pilfered. You've paid your bill,"
The man smiled at her as though humoring her. "Here," he pulled a checkbook out of his back pocket. "Just take it off what I owe you. What was the total?"
"Seventeen-oh-one," Ruby spoke for the first time since the older woman came out.
"It's not your problem, David,"
"Ah, come on, my wife and-...nephew..." knowing that their positions as grandparents might be odd to an outsider, he chose 'nephew' instead; "are over there, I have to show of a little. Here, I added in a tip too," he handed it to her. Seemingly exasperated, she took the check and left.
"Um, thanks," Steven looked to the guy. "I owe you one,"
David shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Welcome to Storybrooke,"
-
Flashback to Unknown Universe
In the previous weeks.
The next step, in this case, was to conduct interviews with those who knew the deceased. His first appointment was with the man's sister, a woman by the name of Sarah. She stepped inside his office, and he immediately recognized her as the woman who had the funeral picture painted before he did on that day in the town. This person acted completely different. She was timid and hesitant, even looking uncertain when she realized he was familiar.
"It's nice to see you, detective," she said; "Do you remember me from town the other day?"
It had to be a coincidence, right? "Yes, I do,"
"..." she looked down. "I didn't expect it to be my brother," she mumbled, her voice wavering as she struggled not to cry. Steven handed her a few tissues. "Thanks,"
He gave a single nod. "I'm very sorry for the circumstances," he gave her a couple moments in silence after saying that, letting her get herself together.
"Thank you," she sniffled. "You said you needed to ask me some questions?"
"Yes," he grabbed his notebook. "What do you know about your brother's current life, Mrs. Brown?"
The look that crossed her face was a grimace. Steven saw this look enough as a detective. It always preceeded an 'I don't know.' She didn't disappoint him.
"To be honest, we lost touch about ten years ago. There was a...a rift in the family, and we fell out because of it,"
"Mm-hm. Can you be more specific about the circumstances of this rift?"
"...not really...I mean, we discovered that some family members had been taking drugs. It caused a lot of chaos. After that, I moved. I came down here to find him, but by the time I did..." tears choked her back again. The detective allowed her a few moments of peace again.
"I see. Can you tell me what kind of person your brother was before your family separated?"
"Richard was the best older brother you could ask for. I mean, he had a temper, but he was always there for me,"
"And what kind of things did he get mad about?"
She laughed. "He got mad when people didn't treat our family right- or anyone, really. Sometimes, he was a little paranoid..."
"Do you know if your brother had any enemies or if he was involved in any violent behavior?"
"There were plenty of people who didn't like him. He wasn't very popular at church because he was constantly getting into squabbles with the congregation. Once, he told a woman that she needed to stop talking about someone else's adultry when she had her own business to mind," Sarah giggled fondly at the memory, then choked back on emotions. "Pop scolded him that whole night after we got home, but I was happy someone told her that finally. Joan was a terrible gossip...but, mind you, it's been...what...fifteen years now, since that tiff. I can't imagine someone taking a life over a little argument like that, much less one that happened fifteen years ago,"
"What about any friends who were involved in questionable behavior?"
There was a flash of uncertainty and hesitance on her face before she answered with a single syllable; "No,"
He let it slide, but took note of it on the paper where he was recording everything. "Do you know what he did for a living?"
"Last I heard, he was a construction worker. He built things on the side for extra cash,"
"...I see," so far, this Richard fellow was sounding quite normal. "Do you know if your brother was involved in any of the drug-linked behavior in your family?"
She paused to consider the question. "He never was to my knowledge,"
"Okay," he made a check mark on the notebook paper and stood up to shake her hand. She followed suit. "Thank you very much for your time, Mrs..." Steven blanked on her last name.
"Just call me Sarah," she giggled; "and, you're welcome,"
Present Day
Storybrooke, Maine
It was getting nearly seven in the evening when Emma decided to call it quits on the hunts for the day. She was exhausted and hungry; all she wanted right then was to get Henry and go home. He had been with Mary-Margaret, David, and Neal for the last nine hours, and she couldn't imagine his sentiments would be any different. She didn't want her parents to feel left out, but Henry just wasn't interested in babies...fortunately for any mother who didn't want her teenage son becoming a father.
The front door opened before she could knock.
"Shh," it was her birth mother; "we just got Neal to sleep. Come on in,"
Emma nodded and stepped inside. "Where's Henry?" she whispered, following along with the general silence of the house.
She motioned for the living room and headed for the kitchen. "In there,"
Once she got in there, she found Prince Charming sitting beside her son, playing a videogame that was on mute with him. Of course. Realizing it would be a big hassle to get him to leave right now ("Wait mom, I'm almost done with this level, hang on, I have to get to a save point, mom, stop, I want to save the game..."), she just let out a big breath of air and flopped onto the couch.
"I thought you were going to teach him how to use a sword,"
"It got dark out,"
Mary-Margaret peeked out into the living room and tried to say something, but Emma couldn't understand her; she was talking too softly.
"I can't hear you,"
She sighed and came all the way into the living room. "I said, 'Would you like to stay for dinner?' We had a big lunch, so we're not having a lot for dinner, but there's definitely plenty for you if you want to stay,"
Emma was hesitant to take her up on her offer, but the notion of not having to drive all the way home and cook something or order food proved too tempting to pass up. "...yeah," she nodded, then lay her head back on the couch with her eyes closed. "I'll stay for dinner,"
It was early into the next morning when yet another mysterious person showed up in the sheriff's office, standing behind the cell. In her two gloved hands, she held an umbrella, up-side-down. With a bit of a huff, she thumped the top of it on the ground, then walked out of the already wide-open cage in the room.