"Hey kid. Whatch'a doing? ," Neal said raping his knuckles on the window. The kid had been sitting out there almost motionless in the bug for the past forty-five minutes. The waitress from the diner—Red, her name was—kept an eyes on him, but no one bothered him. Henry just sat out there all alone and Neal couldn't help but be worried; it couldn't be healthy. And so there had been only one thing to do.
It didn't really matter that he could feel half the town watching him (but given their lack of experience with outsiders, he wasn't surprised), but he didn't care. Henry came first and if anyone didn't like it they could shove it.
"Hey Neal," Henry said, rolling down the window. "Just hanging out." Neal had to struggle not to frown. The kid's voice was far too morose he could read the depression coming off him in waves.
There was a beat of silence as Neal stooped down to rest his arms on the windowsill, so that he and Henry were eye to eye.
"It's my mom's car and it feels like…"Henry began, as if offering an explanation but it was unnecessary. If anyone understood, it was Neal.
"Home?" he finished and Henry nodded.
"I know it sounds weird—" the kid continued, as if he had to explain.
"Naw, I get it. The most at home I have ever felt was in a car like this one." Actually it was this one, but that didn't matter. Besides it's not like he was actually lying to the kid, it's just that was a truth for later—after Emma got back.
Seeing the bug parked in town had both surprised and elated him. A part of Neal had been afraid that she would sell it—getting rid of every trace that he had ever been in her life. But she hadn't. No matter what happened between them, she had kept the car, even when she could have dumped it in a junkyard and used the money to buy another.
It was the first sign of hope Neal had, that maybe she didn't completely hate him. That maybe he could earn a second chance.
"Me and my girlfriend spent three months just driving around the west."
"Really?" Henry asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.
"Yeah," he said, his lips twitching in to a nostalgic little smile as he gazed down the road, his mind years and miles away. "Sometimes we would stop in the middle of the night, as far away from anywhere as we could get, and sit on the hood and watch the stars. She would tell me the stories behind the constellations here and I would tell her the stories from back home…she just always thought I was making them up."
It was odd. Here he was, was telling the kid more than he had told anyone—even if he was glossing over the particulars of the trip. Some of this stuff was things Emma didn't even know. That he could never bring himself to tell her (and really, would she have believed him if she had?).
"Was this the some girl that gave you the dream catcher?"
"Yeah," he said, wondering if it were just that obvious. "How's that working for you kid?"
"It's helping," Henry muttered and Neal could tell that it hadn't completely caught the dreams. He wished there was something more he could do, but not a thing came to mind.
"Is she in storybrooke? Your true love?" It was a desperate attempt to change the subject, but Neal let it slide. If the kid didn't want to talk about then there was nothing he could do about it.
"No, she's not."
"But you're looking for her. Right?" Henry asked, as if there really was no other option and really there wasn't—there never had been. Even when he had to push her away in one of the worst ways possible, Neal had known that one day they would meet again…if only for him to see that she was happy elsewhere…
"I'll find her."
Henry's face grew intent for a moment, as if forming a thought, until his face spread into an infectious grin.
"Emma used to be a bailbonds person before she came to Storybrooke, so she's really good at finding people. Maybe she can help find her when she gets back."
Neal chuckled a bit at the irony.
"Alright then, we'll just have to work that much harder to get her back."
Henry smiled and then his face fell slightly.
"Neal?" he asked, "Why can't I tell anyone about the bean, I mean if it could help get my mom…"
Neal sighed and had to think quickly. He didn't want to lie to Henry, but the truth was just too dangerous. He wasn't stupid; the truth would come out eventually, but Neal had to drag it out as much as possible. Maybe when he knew Emma was safe…
"I don't want the information to get back to someone evil and in a small town like this, secrets don't stay secret for long." It was an oversimplification but it was the truth.
Henry looked a bit confused as he tried to figure out who Neal was talking about, but blessedly let it go.
"Can I tell my grandpa?"
Henry pointed to a man leaning against the wall to the dinner, talking on a cell phone, his eyes watching Henry and Neal like a hawk, ready to swoop in at the first sign of trouble.
"That's your—?" Neal began but then stopped. "I keep forgetting that the curse screwed with everybody's ages."
Henry smiled and shrugged as the man closed the phone and started walking over.
"Who's this?" He asked Henry, his voice cordial while eyeballing Neal suspiciously.
It was odd meeting Emma's dad like this, but Neal was glad. He and Emma and never really spoken about their past—it was understood that neither of them wanted to talk about it—but Neal had known how much she had wanted to be part of a family…her family.
And she deserved it and more.
"Neal Cassady, and you?" Neal said offering his hand.
"David Nolan." David said, grabbing his hand and giving it a firm shake. Neal kept his expression casual, careful to keep all sigh of challenge from reaching the other man. He wasn't stupid, he knew the (supposedly) older man was sizing him up, measuring him in his mind. It was just the hazard of being a stranger in Storybrooke.
David let go of Neal's hand and turned to Henry. "Blue just called. She's found a way to contact Emma and Snow."
Henry's face lit up as David slid into the drives seat. He leaned over so that he could see Neal through the passenger side window.
"It was nice meeting you Neal." There was a warning tone, a message that, had he not had more pressing things to do, Neal would have been facing an inquisition.
As he watched them drive off, Neal couldn't help but wonder just how much David knew. Was he just naturally this protective or had Emma told him about what happened?
Either way, Neal knew David wasn't going to make this easy for him.
"You have no right to do this." Neal said as David shoved him into the cell without bothering to unlock the handcuffs. Neal hadn't been surprised that the new sheriff had a bone to pick with him, but arresting him in the middle of the diner was a bit much…especially since Henry was right there.
"I think you'll find I do. I'm acting sheriff and you have a stolen car and an outstanding warrant for grand larceny and in case you didn't know that's a felony."
David leaned against the desk and smiled. It was clear he was having too much fun with this and that could only mean one thing. If he hadn't known before, he sure as hell did now.
"Emma put you up to this, didn't she?" He asked knowing the answer before he even asked. The truth of his situation hit him in the gut with such a cold vengeance he had to sit down, careful not let David see just how much it had affected him.
Emma had reason to hate him; Neal had long ago accepted that, but to know that she actually did…well, that hurt more than he had been prepared for. Neal had expected hostility and anger—how could there not be after what happened?—but expecting and experiencing it were two entirely different things.
"She may have left a tip on what to look for and where."
Neal wanted to smack the shit eating grin off of the man's face. Neal got it, really he did. He had screwed up and Emma was David's daughter; giving Neal a hard time was kind of in his job description. But the bastard didn't know anything about what had happened, he hadn't even asked.
Neal got up and walked over to the bars and looked David straight in the eyes, for the first time that day letting his anger and frustration show.
"What are you going to do, extradite me, Nolan?" He said, every word a challenge. "Tell me, who drew the short straw? Who's going to have to lose their memories just to hand me over to the feds?"
David's smile widened, but he didn't move; he hadn't taken the bait.
"No one," he said, crossing his arms. "I guess you're just going to have to sit there."
"How much did Emma tell you?"
"She told me enough to know you deserve every moment of this." David answered, not bothering to hide his delight.
"You're enjoying this far too much." Neal accused. David unfolded his arms and, in three steps, was in front of the bars. They both stood there nose to nose as David looked at Neal like something small and in insignificant—something he would like nothing better than to squash beneath his shoe.
"I'm her father. There's no such thing."
"There's a lot about what happened that even Emma doesn't know," Neal said, determined to hold his own in this little pissing contest despite the good three inches of height David had on him.
The sheriff's smile got even wider and more shark-like.
"I'm listening," he said as if inviting someone to tell a joke he knew wouldn't be funny only embarrassing to the one who told it. Looking at him, Neal couldn't help but be reminded of those jackasses that made school hell for him. The ones that had everything—the preverbal princes—who took joy in tormenting the outcast all the while being adored by everyone else.
"No. Emma gets the story first."
Neal didn't care if the whole town knew what happened, but Emma deserved to hear it from him first and not from some half rate rumor mill.
"Then I suggest you get comfortable."
David turned to leave and Neal waited until he was almost out of the door before speaking.
"Sometimes, Nolan," Neal said, stopping David in his tracks. David looked at him over his shoulder but did not turn to face him. "To do the right thing you have to send away those you love most. Even if it hurts them. Even if it might be cursing them worse than they already are. Sometimes to do the right thing for many you have to break yourself. From what I hear, you would understand that better than most."
An almost unnoticeable flinch shot across David's face and Neal could tell he had struck a nerve. Good. That's what he meant to do.
"Emma deserves more." David said, his voice losing some of his bravado.
"Of course she does. Emma deserves the world, but unfortunately life doesn't really seem to care what people deserve. If it did you think any of us would have been caught up in this insanity?"
There was a beat of silence as David considered this.
"Goodnight Cassidy." David said, switching off the lights as he walked out, ignoring any sympathy Neal's last words might have gained.
He hadn't even unlocked the cuffs. Neal didn't complain though; he had kind of expected that.
He just opened his fist and gave a little chuckle. For someone who was supposed to be trained in swordplay, the prince had been completely oblivious as Neal picked the keys right out of his pocket.
It was awkward but it only took him a few seconds to unlock the cuffs and the cell, which was good because he only had a few minutes before Emma's dad came back to get his keys. But by then Neal would be gone.
Neal slipped out the back door and into the night. He had to get Emma home and there was only one way to do that.
Hey guys. Quick question. Do any of you have any request for things you want to see (besides the obvious). I had originally intended this to be something of a collection of unconnected things but a plot grew. The thing is that I actually want to continue this beyond what I have outlined, so any suggestions?
Because you guys have kept up the love, here's a bit of a spoiler: next chapter Neal and Gold meet and someone figures Neal out (although I won't say who and what they figure out).