Chapter 4:
Her nerves skyrocketed the second she stepped foot inside. It was empty, something she didn't know whether to be happy or upset about. She took a breath, "Gold?"
She could hear rustling in the backroom and waited as patiently as she could, resisting the urge to tap her foot. Finally she saw the curtain move aside and the man duck out from behind. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and a smile twitched onto his face. "Sheriff Swan," he tilted his head, hair flipping out of his eyes, "What brings you to my humble establishment? I haven't committed another crime, have I?" he snapped his teeth playfully.
She shook her head, "No…not yet, anyway." His brow quirked in amusement.
"Oh? Well then why the visit?" he asked as he leaned forward on his counter. He splayed his fingers on the surface, fixing his gaze securely on her. She walked further in, taking measured steps halfway to where he stood.
"I talked with Moe French," she started, already seeing him start to tense up. His cheek muscle jumped and his knuckles started turning white. "I know about Beth."
He gave her a tight-lipped smile, "You know nothing about her, Miss Swan." She suppressed a shiver at the darkness that flooded his eyes and voice. His expression stayed neutral. She took two more steps.
"I know enough. What I don't know, is what she means to you." She paused a second, "No doubt she's important to you."
He looked up at her through a veil of hair, "You could say that," he gave her a heartless grin.
"Then why won't you tell me?" the desperation was already seeping in. She needed him to talk to her. She needed to understand. "You may not want to admit it, but I can help!"
His grin blazoned, his eyes wide, "Oh, I hate to tell you differently, dearie…but no, you can't," he pushed away from the counter and started around it, his cane gripped in his hand. "And despite your earlier accusations, I can do just fine by myself. I don't need anyone." He stared long into her eyes, unmoving, and it took all of her strength to not look away. He finally let up, facing away, his gaze on the ground.
"You'll never know if you don't let anyone in." she stood steadfast, back straight, eyes cloudy.
He turned to her, his eyes piercing hers, searching. A wry smile stretched across his face, "Oh that's rich, dearie, coming from the Queen of Walls herself." He slowly limped towards her. She refused to move an inch, watching every move he made.
He stopped a hair's breadth from her, "Do not preach what you cannot practice, Emma dear." His mouth settled into a firm line, his eyes staring into hers but far away, "It lessens your good intentions."
Her expression hardened.
"At least when up against the truth, I can face it."
His eyes focused and narrowed into slits. He leaned in and she could barely force herself not to move back. He stared at her for a long while, studying her. She made sure to not look away, staring resolutely into his eyes. He barely titled his head back and smirked, eyes still digging into her soul.
He leaned back in, possibly closer than before, "Well," he started, pursing his lips, "We can't all be the heroes now, can we, Sheriff?" his mouth twitched and he quickly did an about-face, limping quickly away.
He had made it behind the counter before she finally moved. She strode over to the counter, fully ready to cross the threshold, "You know for a guy with a limp, you sure run away a lot."
His halt caused her to freeze. The counter was the only thing separating them. He didn't move and for a moment she was scared of what he'd do. A chill ran down her spine.
His shoulders slumped and a weight formed in her heart.
He turned his head to the side and she could just make out a small upturn of his lips. "You're right." He rotated all the way around, and even though he was very close to her she didn't move away. She didn't even notice. He studied her, his eyes softening. He leaned in.
"But even so, Sherriff, " he narrowed his eyes, "My business is still none of yours."
Silence overtook them. She reeled in her emotions, not letting him have that pleasure. She searched his eyes and could find nothing. He had put up a wall, and she wasn't surprised. She'd expected him to clam up on her like this. She took a breath.
"Let me help," he opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off, "as a friend." His brow furrowed in confusion and she could understand. Hadn't she just told him a few weeks ago that she might allow tolerance? But she needed answers, and maybe this was the way to it.
He stayed silent for a while, most likely trying to figure her out. Then he smirked.
"You want to be my 'friend', Miss Swan?" he narrowed his eyes, "Why?"
She shrugged, "Maybe I'd rather be your ally than your enemy. Maybe I want you to trust me."
He barked out a laugh and she flinched. "You want me to trust you, when you cannot even trust me?" he leaned in farther, "Love…that's a little twisted," he crinkled his nose and eyes.
"I'm willing to try if you are," she shot him a hopeful, sincere look. He paused at that. He leaned backwards, looking at her in consideration. She held her breath, not removing her eyes from his.
His features softened after a moment, and his shoulders relaxed. He moved away, leaning back on the counter and facing her. He gave her a smile, "Okay. We'll try it your way, then."
Emma felt her eyebrows pull up. She didn't expect him to agree, if she were to be honest. She mimicked him and leaned on her side on the edge of the counter. She waited.
He smirked, tapping his cane on the floor, and then began, "Mr. French has never really had a handle on his payments. He was always late, always in debt. He got desperate. One of the times I went over there, he offered his daughter as a maid," he nodded his head emphatically, "Beth French, as you know." Emma nodded in understanding so far.
Gold looked away from her then, his eyes sliding to the many rows of antiques. His story continued, "I did not care at first, the company was quite pleasant and her services were very good, but that was all. Slowly a friendship built up and I looked forward to our conversations." He paused then, and Emma watched in silence as his eyes filled with an indefinable emotion. He tilted his head and thinned his lips against his teeth in a quick motion.
"Something happened then, and she got it into her head that she was in love with me. Tried to…change me for the better because she believed there was a good man in me." He let out a bitter chuckle, "I pushed her away. Feelings aside, I was never going to change. And she was naïve to think it would ever work out."
Gold looked to the floor now, "So I fired her, and when she went back, her father was so furious and upset that he beat her and locked her in her room. Rumor mill had been rampant by then, and no one wanted anything to do with her, so the French name was finished."
He paused again. Emma's gaze was fixated on him in mute shock and fascination, "And…what happened?"
He smiled quickly again, pain lacing it along every line. He finally turned back to her, "She killed herself."
Emma's eyes widened and her heart started beating rapidly, and she felt dizzy. He didn't know. He thought she was dead. She opened her mouth to tell him-
And then stopped herself.
She had to be rational about this. She didn't know the whole story. Obviously the Mayor was behind it, so she couldn't just open her mouth without thinking, without knowing all the facts.
But…
Hadn't she just told him that she'd trust him?
She clenched her jaw, and threw caution to the wind. He could help her (she hoped). "What if she is alive?"
Time suspended for a moment when she looked at his face.
Pure fury washed over him, and then a deadly silence took him.
"Get. Out. Now" he growled low in his throat.
A chill ran down her back, and she froze in place. He abruptly turned around and started back around the counter. She was finally able to get her feet to work and tried going after him, "Wait-!"
The slamming of the counter slab interrupted her and barricaded her from following him to the back. She looked up at him in surprise, and then narrowed her eyes, "You have to listen to me."
He let out a vicious laugh, "Ha! No, I don't," and he started to turn. She slammed her hands on the counter, "Why won't you listen to me! I'm trying to tell you something important!" He kept walking away, "Are you that full of yourself that you won't listen to what anybody else has to say?" He didn't stop.
"What if I'm right?" she shouted after him. He stopped for a second, "Well then, I guess I'm wrong." He turned his head to her, "Now, if you'll be so kind, Sheriff," he gestured with his head, "There's the door."
She was able to see a frown briefly before he spun away and walked into the back room. She called his name several times, each time louder. Finally she let out a frustrated yell and slammed her hands again down on the counter. He wasn't going to listen to her. She pushed away from the surface and stomped out the door, slamming it on her way out, bell rattling violently.
A pressure started building in her head, and her hands clenched into fists and began to tremble. She didn't breath until she was back in her car, once again slamming the door closed. She smacked the steering wheel and rested her head on it.
She shouldn't have opened her mouth. She might've just ruined everything.
She lay there for a long time, not moving an inch, trying to push her thoughts away. When her breathing finally leveled out, she sat up and started the car. And then in autopilot she drove home, her thoughts blessedly silent for the moment.
When she got there, the place was silent, and she assumed Mary Margaret was already in bed. Emma didn't blame her. The teacher had had a few rough weeks, she probably needed the rest. Emma sighed and without a sound trudged up the stairs to her room. She flopped onto her bed without taking her shoes off and sighed again into the blanket. Sleep started to pull her down, its tendrils slipping into her mind.
She tried to not think about him at all, but her dreams were quick to contradict her. Reels of images filled her sleep, memories of her short time in the strange town, and all she had seen.
And throughout it all, the sound of a cane tapping against the ground rung in her ears. Needless to say, she didn't get a good night's rest that night.
Sorry about the long wait, I couldn't be sure how or where to go with this. Hopefully this chapter is okay :)
Please review!