Chapter 12

Walter's mustache feels strange, almost suffocating, and causes her nose to wrinkle. But he seems to take the curling of her lip as some sort of invitation to force open her mouth and explore with his tongue. It's… different… strange… wriggly… wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. And now his arms are around her and instead of feeling nice, it feels constricting and suffocating. She forces a splayed hand against his chest, which would make Eugene pause, but the gesture is misinterpreted as Walter makes a small noise of pleasure and his fingers clench against the small of her back.

She wants it to stop. She compresses her shoulders to shrink in on herself, and with difficulty she tears her face away and stands, hunched, with her eyes squeezed closed and her brow draw together in hopes that if she doesn't look at him for a moment everything will be back to the way it was before. All the fear will dissipate. Her heart will stop quavering in a bid for escape.

"Zel? Is everything alright?"

She takes a deep, shuddering breath before looking up at him. He looks genuinely concerned, which settles the churning of her stomach just a fraction.

"I… Yes. I'm fine." He continues to look at her, as if waiting for her to say something else. "I'm sorry," she says.

He smiles down at her. "Don't be. I didn't mean to startle you by moving too fast."

She feels a bit sick but tries not to let it show on her face. She doesn't really know how successful she is. "Moving too fast" implies that they are moving and she doesn't think that she wants to go anywhere in that direction with Walter, no matter what the pace is, but telling him this will hurt his feelings, which is something she doesn't want to do. He's nice to her, and he likes her, that much is clear, and she likes him too, it's just that…

She doesn't know. It's all very confusing, and she's starting to feel overwhelmed. Her hand shakes against his chest and the reminder that he is still holding her is suddenly very frightening.

She takes a step back and he lets her go.

"I think that's enough for today," she says, forcing as much nonchalance into the words as she can.

"Alright." He smiles at her. It's a nice smile. Or it would be if it wasn't obscured by his mustache. The thought strikes her that Eugene's facial hair is by far superior.

She turns and heads back to the castle. Half way there she breaks into a run and she doesn't stop until she slides around the corner into the familiar hallway of the guest quarters.

She's brought up short as she comes face to face with Eugene as he shuts the door to his bedroom with a kind of finality that makes her jump. He gives her a look, full of some emotion she can't place and yet more closed than she's ever seen him. It's a look so strange that she instinctively takes a step backwards. He has changed clothes, back into his old Flynn Rider garb that's been sitting in his window seat for months, back into the blue-green vest and rough pants. He grips the satchel thrown over his shoulder as if he's afraid she might try to snatch it away. It bulges as though he's haphazardly thrown a great many things into it.

Her frayed nerves shrivel nearly to the point of panic. "Where are you going?"

He stares at her, all the muscles in his jaw pulled tight. "Away," he says, a bite to his voice. His eyes slip purposefully away from her as he walks forward and passes her at a brisk pace.

The blood drains from her face as she watches him walk away, an icy fear stabbing at her heart, breaking her to pieces. "No! No, you can't! You promised!"

He stops, both hands clenching into tight fists, and she takes the opportunity to run up and slip around to face him. She reaches for his arms, but he flinches away from her touch, leaving her hands suspended in the air.

"You promised you weren't going anywhere. You said you'd be here for me when I needed you."

There is too much intensity in his eyes. It makes her feel small. It almost makes her feel like she's done something wrong. His jaw works as if he's chewing his words thoroughly before spiting them at her.

She was right. He had promised.

If we truly love her then we won't care if it will be returned.

God, he hates that he just remembered that.

"Fine," he snaps. "What is it you need?"

"I…" She swallows, realizing that she doesn't really know. "… Nothing."

"Great. I'll just wait here for you to come up with something."

With that he turns on his heel, stomps back to his room, and slams his door behind him. She stares at the empty space he's left behind as her heart refuses to beat. When it starts up again she bursts into tears and runs and runs and doesn't stop until she collapses on her bed in her room.

A few minutes later someone knocks at her door and she ignores them, having absolutely no desire to speak to anyone. She's vaguely aware that she's supposed to be in a history lesson, but she can't bring herself to care that she's being rude to her instructor. She doesn't think that she could hold herself together enough for lessons anyway. She would just be crying in front of someone, and she has learned that doing that makes people feel uncomfortable.

There's another knock at the door, but this time the door opens and the queen sweeps in, takes one look at Rapunzel, and immediately pulls the girl into her arms. The speed of her reactions and the complete lack of hesitation takes Rapunzel by surprise, and this new shock on top of all the others is the final crack in her tenuous grasp on self control. She completely breaks down, sobbing hysterically, her arms thrown around the queen's neck.

The queen doesn't say a word. She simply strokes her daughter's back in soothing, even circles and lets her cry. She doesn't try to get her to calm down. She doesn't tell her that the tears will spoil her complexion or stain her dress. She doesn't tell her to stop crying because it's not that bad and she is getting a headache. She just holds her. No one has done this for her before except Eugene, and the thought that he might never do it again just makes her cry harder.

Eventually the tears subside, not because she feels better, but because she's too exhausted to continue. She pulls back from the queen and brutally rubs at her eyes to remove the traces of her weakness.

"I'm sorry," she sniffs. "I've ruined your dress."

The queen looks down at her shoulder, now spotted and damp from Rapunzel's tears. She smiles tenderly, warmly, sadly, and brushes a few loose strands of hair behind Rapunzel's ear. "It's only a dress," she says.

"Really?" Surely the queen must be lying to make her feel better.

"I've got loads of dresses, and you can cry on any of them because I love you."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"That's what love is: holding someone while they cry."

Rapunzel stares at her while she processes this. If someone came to her and cried, she would hold them no matter who they were. But then again, she doesn't think that anyone would come to her for comfort. That thought makes her a bit sad. Pascal would probably come to her if he needed to cry, but he never seemed to need it. He is currently wrapped around her ankle, giving her a look of extreme concern.

But on the other hand, she wouldn't go to just anyone and cry on them. She had always tried not to cry in front of Gothel, preferring instead to hide in her room. And she wouldn't ever think of going to Walter, or most of her handmaidens, or even most of the thugs from the Snuggly Duckling.

She blinks up at her mother, biting at her lip. "I like crying on you," she admits.

The queen laughs. "Well I hope you don't like crying. But if you have to cry, I'm here for you, and I'm glad I can bring you some comfort."

"You're here for me?"

"Always, my dearest."

"Oh!" She squeaks out another sob, and again throws her arms around her mother.

Eugene handles things a bit differently. He focuses on furiously pacing his room. His eyes fall on the framed picture of Pascal, and he walks over and takes it down so he doesn't have to look at it. He paces and paces until he realizes that he's pacing and that's stupid, and he drops into a chair to rest his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

He's not moping. He's planning. Sometimes he just has to sit and plan – plan out how he's going to murder the Captain of the Guards, how he's going to stab him, choke him, and light him on fire. But as much enjoyment as he gets from these plans (they were plans, not fantasies) what he really needs to focus on in how he's going to get away with it.

Maybe if he makes it look like an accident, but he can't think of a way to do that and still have it be brutal enough to be satisfying. Maybe he can challenge him to a duel. The upper classes tend to overlook murder in the name of honor, so he could possibly get away with that. And after all, he had knocked the man unconscious with a cast iron skillet once, so he can definitely do more damage if he has something that's sharp. Maybe he can just outright kill him and then go back to being an outlaw. That option is feeling really good at the moment, except for the fact that he is an idiot, who wants to stick around and be stepped on by the princess, because he promised her that he would do that and for some reason he suddenly keeps his promises. Idiot.

Seriously, he's an idiot. In love with a princess? What was he thinking?

Teaching her about sex so that she could use her new found skills on someone else? He wants to punch something, preferably something that resembles the captain's face.

He broods over these things for far too long – and by broods he means plans. And since he hasn't really gotten anywhere with his planning, it's probably about time that he went and kicked dearest Walter in the head.

He doesn't really give a shit that he has become a big, jealous monster. He doesn't really care that Rapunzel won't approve or that the king and queen won't approve. He doesn't even really care that he'll be basically walking straight back into the dungeons.

Rapunzel might even truly like the guy. She might not have minded having someone kiss her. She might have even liked it. (Shudder.) She might just not know about monogamous relationships, because the idea of him explaining that to her is just ludicrous. She might not know better, but that dick of a captain sure as hell should. He should know better than to take advantage of Blondie's naiveté.

Any irony in this situation is lost on Eugene.

As he sees it, this is just one last attack against Flynn Rider's character and this one is over the line. Using Rapunzel against him is wrong, and he's not going to put up with it. He pushes his sleeves up, even though they're already rolled up to the elbow, and marches into the courtyard that separates the castle from the guard tower.

He is grabbed by the back of his shirt and jerked backwards off his feet.

"Hey! Let go!"

Back in the shadow of the castle, he is dropped to the ground, and he looks up at his attacker with a groan and a rub of his skinned elbow. It's Maximus.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Snort.

"That is definitely not an answer."

Max drops his big, horsey nose in front of Eugene's face and gives him a glare and a not so gentle shove back in the direction of the castle.

"Back off. This doesn't concern you."

Oh really?

"Yes. I'm going to murder him and I'm going to enjoy it."

Eye roll.

"Shut up. There's nothing you can do to stop me."

Maximus highly doubts that and grabs Eugene's shirt again to drag him away from his arch enemy.

"Let go. I like this shirt and you're going to rip it."

Maximus lets go of his shirt, and instead flops down to pin him under his bulk.

"I… can't… breathe…"

Don't care.

"Come… on!"

Maximus shifts ever so slightly to allow Eugene a little bit of wiggle room, but not enough that he can escape. He's forced to lie there on his back and stare up at the sky. After a few minutes of this he's calmed down enough to try to reason with the horse again.

"Look, I know that old geezer is your best friend or something-"

Snort.

"He's not?"

No.

"Then why do you care?"

This gets him a completely blank look.

Eugene blinks at him. "Is it because… you're worried about me going to jail?"

Maximus huffs out a sigh and shakes his head before he decides to just get it over with and explain it to him. He does this by miming the motion of stabbing Eugene in the chest several times, which is really rather impressive.

"You're… wait, seriously? You're worried that prick is going to kill me?"

The horse nods begrudgingly, as if it causes him pain to admit it.

"Wow, buddy, that's really-"

We're not talking about this.

"Ah. Right."

Maximus doesn't let him up for another twenty minutes, and when he does, he makes sure that Eugene realizes that he's going to be watching him, so there's really no point in even trying.

Eugene decides that the horse is insane, but he really doesn't want to be sat on again.