Previously: Several citizens of Storybrooke, ME, have had a disturbing dream in which the city of Boston was devastated by a group of giant fire-breathing red dragons. The dragons originated in the Enchanted Realm and were controlled by Rumpelstiltskin, aka Mr. Gold. The dream ended with Gold's partner, a man who looked like the late Sheriff Graham, who transformed into a wolf and seemed ready to attack Regina Mills and Emma Swan.
Later, it was revealed that in the Realm, dreams were methods of warning certain people of upcoming danger that they could prepare for or try to stop. Further nothing was symbolic...all in the dream was literal. The people who had the dream were chosen to save Boston...possibly more.
As many of the dreamers met at the mayor's home. Gold took note of this, and the fact that he was not invited. Gold made a phone call to an associate who he charged with watching the house and somehow finding out what the dreamers knew.
One of the first things was to find out if Graham really was dead. Earlier Regina confessed to Emma that she may have had something to do with the death, but Emma told her that would be impossible based on the facts. During the meeting, the mayor got a court order to dig up the body. The following is from the Mayor's standpoint.
It is now a few days later at the cemetery..
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Sorry for the fact that this is short...I'm tired.
…...
Day 3 12:01pm
It has come to this.
The curse. Every lie I have ever told. Come to this.
Maybe I shouldn't have asked Frannie for that court order, Maybe I should have just let sleeping dogs lie. No pun intended.
And maybe I do not deserve what is about to happen to me. After all, three days ago, I confessed to the woman I love that I killed the man we both loved. That I squeezed the life out of his heart, because...because I was angry. And jealous.
And maybe jealous not because I thought she was stealing him from me, but that he was stealing her.
Its been a year since. A year when everything I have done has unraveled. Almost everyone has their memories of the Realm, but they feel that they belonged here. But I have changed. At least I think I did. Henry was growing closer to me. And Emma...
Emma... My sweet, adorable, sexy, insolent, back-talking, quip-toppng, sweet-kissing, hard-loving, I-hate-her-sometimes, I-can't-see-my-life-without-her-ever Emma.
As the digging is going on, and we oversee it, I feel that little weight go down from the top of my heart to its bottom at the thought that what was in that coffin might cause my Emma to leave me.
My Emma. I never thought I'd say that about anyone except Henry. Or my father. Or maybe even Rex.
And as I stand near Rex Graham's grave, as Leroy's crew continues to get closer to that coffin, I wonder how thing would have been different if I hadn't screwed up everything with everyone.
That is everyone but Emma. She's the one thing I have not screwed up. But then again, she fixed me. Fixed me enough so Snow and I could forgive each other. Fixed my so my son and I can be close again. Fixed me so I can laugh again. Not some I'll-get-you-and-your-little-do-too laugh, but just laughing to be joyful. Emma fixed me so I can have joy again.
And as they have hit the box and are now chaining it up to lift it, I wonder if I deserve joy, or happiness. After all, no matter what Emma or Henry, or Snow, or Abby, or even Archie says...I put that man in that box. I know I did.
Emma and I now move closer to the coffin that is out of the hole. Doc Whale is there in his capacity as medical examiner (he keeps joking "CSI: Storybrooke" it's not). John's here too as a deputy. Snow is back at her apartment keeping an eye on Henry.
Em takes my hand and squeezes it. "Don't worry...I'm here. Now and forever." Really, my mind screams. Will you love me if it's proven that I really killed the man we both loved? My mind screams, but outwardly I'm just still. Just staring at the coffin.
Sidney Glass is there...a sheriff's exhumation is always a good story for a newspaper. I don't know how he'll write it. After all I've done to him...well, you know what they say about turnabout.
Em continues to hold my hand while the men play Hercules with the lid of the coffin.
When the inside was revealed, there were gasps, wonderings. Myself, maybe relief, but for only a second. Emma had that "and-now-what" look on her face.
Rex Graham's coffin was empty. Now what, indeed?
…...
TO BE CONTINUED.
I was going to write more, but I am tired. Next, that other Ho-lee-sheeeet ,moment. And later, a startling discovery about Storybrooke itself. What effect it will have on those who live there...and can it help to stop Rumplestiltskin?
And thank you for all the nice comments. You don't know how much this means to me (since I know exactly how badly the wheels are gonna fall off this thing when I catch up...)