II
Interlude: Gold
II
He should have seen it coming, Gold thinks as the world dies around him. They should all have seen it coming.
But no, they were all hoping for the best, hoping for a happy ending in the face of increasing tension and slow march into disaster. So wilfully blind as only humans can be.
He sees now, Gold is sure. Sees far too much as fire claims the sky and death will soon follow. Oh, he sees now, he's so sure.
The world is ending.
And Gold is still blinded by what he thinks he sees, even after he hears Emma's name and his eyes open again.
II
Chapter seven: The dreams in which I'm dying / Are the best I've ever had
Graham
II
There are days when Graham feels almost heartless, as if all they've seen and survived has more or less torn his heart out of his chest and left just a void. Perhaps it has to be that way. Perhaps life always comes with a price, and sometimes that price is one's heart.
But there are days when he thinks he might just still have one. Today, he's almost certain there is something still beating in him.
David is sitting on his cot playing with Emma with Mary Margaret watching and smiling, and Graham can't make himself clear his throat or otherwise alert them to his presence. He can only stand and watch, and feel his heart beat.
They look happy; even Emma is making happy noises. They look like a family; mother, father and their daughter. Perhaps that makes him the uncle. Uncle Graham.
He wouldn't mind being uncle to a baby like Emma. He wouldn't mind that at all.
David eases Emma into Mary Margaret's arms and the two look at each other for a moment before David leans forward and kisses her. It's fairly soft and gentle as they have a baby between them, but Graham still averts his eyes, feeling as if he's looking at something intimate.
Hell, even the way they look at each other feels intimate sometimes, a strange combination of longing, affection, attraction and shyness. Though today they seemed more assertive with each other, and he has some ideas about what that might mean.
"Graham!" Mary Margaret says and he looks up again to see her looking at him with a slight blush to her cheeks, David still with his fingers by her ear.
"Sorry to interrupt," Graham replies. "I know you've had a long day today."
"It's fine," David says, but there is a touch of regret in his voice. He lowers his hand, giving Mary Margaret exactly the kind of look Graham has become used to. "What is it? Spencer?"
"No," Graham says. Since the incident at the pharmacy, Spencer seems to have been lying low. Possibly plotting, or like them, gathering resources and finding survivors. It's been a quiet few weeks and they've still made Graham tense as hell, because he knows it can't last.
David sighs, as if he was hoping it would be Spencer just to get it over with. "The future, then."
"Yes," Graham agrees. He walks closer, pulling up a box and sitting down a few feet from them. "We have to start thinking about it sooner or later."
"And you prefer sooner," Mary Margaret says.
"Yes."
"Mary Margaret and I have been talking about it," David says, glancing at Mary Margaret and then down at Emma. "We can't just scavenge forever. We have to find a way to sustain ourselves if we want to survive."
"There are a number of farms around the town," Graham says. He's been thinking about them while failing to get a good night's sleep more or less every night.
"There's also the harbor and the fishing boats," David says, and Graham and Mary Margaret both look at him. "What? I am amnesiac, not blind. We were down there the a few weeks ago and I used my eyes. This town has clearly had a fishing industry."
Mary Margaret glances down and smiles faintly.
"You're right, it did," Graham confirms. "I don't know if any boats have survived intact, but one of the survivors we found a few days ago is a fisherman."
"There's the forest too," Mary Margaret says. "I know we've been scavenging firewood from the edge of the forest, but there might be something we can hunt further into the woods."
Wolves, Graham thinks sharply, and then the thought vanishes as suddenly as it came.
"I can take Sean with me to look at the farms tomorrow," Graham suggests, wondering why the forest makes him feel so uneasy.
"I don't want to risk a trip to the harbor before we know what Spencer is up to," David says firmly. "But we could scout out the farmland and take a look at fishing options later."
"Yeah," Mary Margaret says and they look at each other for a long moment, their fingers intertwined just like their lives seem to be getting. Graham envies that. Not that David has Mary Margaret exactly. It's more what they have between them. He can't remember ever having anything like that. Not with Regina, not with anyone.
"All right," David says finally, glancing up at Graham again. "If you and Sean take the truck, you can bring back anything useful you find. If a lot of the farm buildings are still standing, I think moving out there is an excellent idea, Graham. Not just for food. The town is still burning. It could spread here easily."
Graham nods. It's also further away from Spencer, neither of them say but both know. Certain relationships are just better long distance, Graham reckons, profound dislike being one of them.
"I wouldn't mind being a farmer," David goes on, clearly warming to the idea. Mary Margaret nods, standing up with Emma in her arms. The baby has fallen asleep while they've been talking, Graham realizes. David stands up too, kissing Emma on the head before Mary Margaret does the same. From how naturally they both do it, Graham guesses it's a habit.
Gently, Mary Margaret puts Emma into the crib while David has a hand at her back. For a moment, it's the perfect family picture. Graham feels awkward stepping into it, but he does for a moment, touching Emma's head gently.
She smiles, and he feels dizzy for a moment.
"Goodnight, Emma," he says. David and Mary Margaret remain standing, their hands brushing and lightly hooking two fingers together. "I'll let you three get some sleep. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Graham," Mary Margaret says, giving him a smile.
"Goodnight, Graham," David echoes, and Graham gives him a brief nod before heading out of the room. As he reaches the door, he can see Mary Margaret link her arms around David's neck and stand on tip-toe to kiss him.
Graham smiles faintly at that before walking out. Mary Margaret Blanchard. Supposedly a meek schoolteacher from what he knew of her previously, but from what he's seen on her with Emma and David, one with a warrior's heart.
The end of the world can bring out the best and the worst in people, Graham has started to learn. He just isn't sure just what it's bringing out in him. He likes to think he has a heart, that he is a good man, but sometimes his mind seems to howl and his chest feels empty.
At least he's not Albert Spencer. He takes comfort in that. He chose right, he's damn sure, the day he went with David Nolan.
It's been a very long day, but he still takes the time to check on Regina. He's not the only one, though. Gold is already there, watching her from the doorway with a thoughtful expression.
Owen is clinging to her, and Regina has her arms around him, holding him gently even in her sleep. The expression on her face is so tender it's breathtaking. Whale is sleeping in the corner, clearly exhausted from the effort of looking after her and the other wounded.
"Sheriff," Gold says coolly in way of greeting.
"Gold," Graham replies cautiously. Gold taking an interest in something generally worries him, whether it is in Emma, David, Mary Margaret or anyone else.
"So she survived to see what a world without happy endings is like," Gold observes, smiling unpleasantly. "I don't think she'll like it much, do you?"
"She survived," Graham says shortly, not sure exactly what Gold is talking about, but not liking the tone.
Regina opens her eyes, looking at Gold with such hostility Graham is taken aback.
"You," she says darkly.
"Mayor Mills," Gold says pleasantly. "It pleases me to see you alive to enjoy the fruits of your labor."
"Of yours, you mean," she says angrily, then lowers her voice as Owen makes a noise in his sleep. "I didn't want this, I just wanted to win for once. I wanted..."
"What are you talking about?" Graham asks in confusion, and they both glance at him as if they had forgotten he was in the room.
"The election campaign," Gold says smoothly. "Mayor Mills here won, promising to make a better world. I was just congratulating her on how she fulfilled her promise."
Graham furrows his brow. He honestly can't remember there actually being an election, but she is the mayor, so there must have been.
Maybe he's too tired to think coherently.
"Let the mayor have her rest," he tells Gold instead, who gives a faint smile before bowing his head with mock humility.
"As you wish, sheriff. We will talk later, Regina. We have a lot to discuss."
Regina closes her eyes as Gold walks off, muttering something angrily under her breath. Carefully, Graham sits down on the bed next to where she's lying.
"How are you feeling?" he asks.
"They saved me," she says quietly, trauma visible in the lines of her face. "Owen and his father. They looked after me in the forest. I would have been dead without them. And then Kurt went missing and Owen tried to look after me, he tried so hard..."
"He seems like a good kid," Graham says, glancing down at the boy.
She nods faintly. "Sn... Mary Margaret, where is she?"
"She was here to see you earlier, but you were asleep," he says, and several expressions seem to cross Regina's face too fast for him to register them all. "She had to go look after Emma."
"Emma?"
"Oh, she and David Nolan are looking after an orphan together. They've pretty much adopted her."
"David Nolan?" Regina repeats.
"The coma patient in the hospital."
She laughs bitterly, a strangely brittle sound. "So they found each other again. Of course. They always find each other."
"What?" he says. "They didn't know each other before."
She looks at him, then her face becomes a mask. "Right. I must be mistaken. I'm tired."
"I'll let you get your rest," he says, standing up. He hesitates, then touches her hand for a moment. "I'm glad to see you alive, Regina."
Emotion flickers across her face again, and after a moment, she just nods.
As he walks out, he glances back to see Regina kissing Owen's head, looking on the verge of tears. It's a strange thing to see her so vulnerable. She never was with him. Not that he can remember, anyway, and all the memories he has about her feel fuzzy and distant.
With that, he closes the door and heads down the hallway. As he always does before going to bed, he takes a look outside first, checking that Leroy is on guard and that their campfire is still burning.
Belle is sitting there, watching the fire with a faraway look on her face.
"You all right?" he asks gently.
"I don't know," she says. "Gold kept showing me this chipped cup, asking if it meant anything to me. It didn't."
"Because you don't remember," he says.
She nods, looking desolate. "I don't know who I am. I don't remember."
"Even with all your memories, it can be hard to know who you are," Graham says slowly, sitting down next to her. "A lot of people have changed after what happened. Maybe we've all forgotten something."
"Has Gold changed?" she asks curiously.
"I didn't know him very well before," Graham admits. "I don't think any of us did, perhaps except Regina. Mayor Mills, I mean. Maybe you can ask her once she starts feeling better."
Belle nods, clutching her book more firmly to her heart.
"It's like I know him, yet I don't," she says slowly. "Does that sound crazy?"
"No," Graham says. He shrugs. "I feel the same way sometimes. Not about Gold, but about others. If it helps anything, Belle, two of the people I know who seem the surest of who they are – that's you and David, and neither of you have your memories."
"Thanks," Belle says, smiling faintly. She glances sideways, and Graham sees Gold standing just outside the entrance to the town hall. "I have to go. I have a reading date."
Graham nods, watching her get up and walk over to Gold. The two exchange a longing gaze before walking inside. Graham gives them a few minutes before following (he has no desire to walk in on them making out up against a wall, as he has with David and Mary Margaret once) and heading towards his room.
The room he and Sean share isn't particularly large, but it serves its purpose, which is mainly sleep.
Sean is leaning against the wall as he walks inside. "Did you talk to David and Mary Margaret?"
"Yeah. They're all in favor of the farming idea," Graham confirms, and Sean looks pleased at that. At first, Sean didn't seem to know what to do without his father, but the young man has slowly but surely been growing into his own the last few weeks.
Graham almost feels like a proud father.
"We'll head out tomorrow and scout the area," Graham goes on. "Get some sleep."
Sean nods, finding his bed and by the sounds of it, falling asleep the moment his head hits the pillow. Graham smiles faintly at that. It's an ability he envies.
Sighing tiredly, he finds his way to his own cot and lies down, not even bothering to undress. He feels tired to his very bones most days, but he knows it's as much emotional as it is physical.
The world ended, and he feels it. He has no family to live for. He doesn't have what Mary Margaret and David have with each other and with Emma. Or what Ruby and Granny have, or even what Gold seems to be fumbling towards with Belle.
He lived for the responsibility at first. He was the sheriff, so he acted like one. But as far as reasons for living go, that one feels hollow. Especially because he knows that David, and possibly even Sean once the young man matures a bit, could manage to lead this community without him.
He and David are becoming something like friends and perhaps being Uncle Graham is a good reason too, but on days like this when he feels exhausted, he wishes he had something more.
A selfish thought, perhaps. With so many dead, maybe particularly so. But it still lingers, and aches.
He sighs again, closes his eyes and sleeps.
II
He wakes abruptly, his heart thundering in his ears and his breath stuck in his throat. For a moment, he thinks he's actually in the forest, and that the wolves have found him. They always find him.
Then he glances around and realizes it was merely a dream. A nightmare, though not exactly. He can't remember being afraid of the wolves in the dream. It is the humans he feared there.
Huh.
Sighing, he sits up. It looks like another early morning for him, as there have been plenty of lately. He washes up, changes his shirt and steps out into the pre-dawn. He gives Leroy, who's on guard duty, a brief nod, indicating that he can take over and Leroy nods gratefully back before heading inside to get some sleep.
David is already outside, Graham discovers, standing by the fire holding Emma in his arms while whispering softly to the baby.
"David," Graham greets him, and David looks up and just smiles.
"Graham. Hi. Emma was being fussy and I didn't want to wake up Mary Margaret."
Graham nods at that. "You look like you could use some sleep as well."
David chuckles softly. "I guess that's what having a baby is all about. No sleep."
"Yeah," Graham agrees softly. Not that he would know. "How is she doing? Emma, I mean."
"Good," David says brightly. "She's growing. She's strong, Graham. A real fighter."
She will need to be, Graham knows. In this world, she will really need to be. But with David and Mary Margaret as her parents now, she might just get there.
"You have a great daughter, David," he says and David smiles shyly.
"Yeah. I wish... I wish I could be a better father for her. I don't know anything about being a parent, or if I did, I don't remember. I only remember five minutes of my life before I became her father and that's the five minutes it took to find her."
Graham pats his shoulder. "David, you love her. I think that's the best start for parenting there is."
"I do love her," David agrees softly and Emma makes a soft noise. "That's right, daddy does. So very, very much."
Graham smiles, remembering the way David was looking at Emma when stumbling out of the hospital. If there was ever a thing like love at first sight, David Nolan has apparently been hit by it – and twice, given how he gawked at Mary Margaret the first time he saw her.
"And I have Mary Margaret," David goes on, smiling in a way that makes his whole face light up. "She's wonderful with Emma. She's..."
"Wonderful with you?" Graham teases, and David gives him a pointed look. "Sorry. I'm happy for you, David."
David nods slowly. "Emma and Mary Margaret, they're... I can't even describe it in words, Graham. They're right, you know?"
"I don't," Graham says softly, thinking of his life. He really doesn't know what 'right' feels like.
"Then I hope one day you will," David says equally softly. "You deserve that."
"I don't know about that."
David glances over at him. "You're a good man, Graham. And before you tell me that I don't know who you were before, I'll tell you what a very wise man told me: I know who you are now. You're the guy who protects people. You're the guy who helps a man right out of his coma and never doubts him. You're the guy who reassures a doubting father. You're a good man, Graham."
"He is," a voice says behind them, and they turn to see Mary Margaret smiling softly at them both. "David is right, Graham."
"Mary Margaret," Graham says, wondering why he finds Mary Margaret's opinion of him so reassuring, just like he finds David's opinion the same.
"I do believe you snuck out of bed on me, Mr. Nolan," Mary Margaret says to David and he smiles sheepishly.
"Apologies, Miss Blanchard," he replies, walking over to her and looking at her in that way that makes Graham envious and happy for them both at the same time. "Miss Emma was in a restless mood."
Mary Margaret smiles at that, then looks thoughtful. "Maybe we should give her a last name."
"Blanchard Nolan?" David suggests, and Mary Margaret looks hesitant yet touched by the inclusion of her last name. "We have more or less adopted her. There is just no one around to make it official."
"Maybe we could give her a name of her own too," Mary Margaret says slowly. "We can't claim her by birth, but I want her to know we claimed her by love."
David nods. "So we give her our names and one of her own."
As they both look at Emma, an idea forms in Graham's mind.
"Swan," Graham suggests and they both look at him. "Like the ugly duckling, who turned out to be so beautiful and found a family just like it."
"Swan," David repeats. "Emma Swan. Emma Blanchard Nolan Swan. Quite long, but I like it."
"I like it too," Mary Margaret says, and they both beam at him. "I guess that makes you the godfather, Graham. Unless you still prefer uncle."
"I'll think about my preference," Graham says, feeling his heart ache and swell at the same time. Emma Swan. That sounds right, somehow.
"What do you think about your new name, Miss Swan?" David directs at Emma, who doesn't reply. "Oh. Naming excitement was too much for her. Looks like she's fallen asleep again. I'll take her inside and see if we can catch a few more hours of sleep. We'll see you later, Graham."
Graham nods. He watches his friends walk off, Mary Margaret hooking her arm in David's as they walk. They look lovely like that, the little family. The charming little family, as Gold prefers to call them.
The sort of family Graham wouldn't mind being adopted into.
He remains outside while the first hint of light begins to appear on the horizon, watching the sky while he lets his mind roam free. It's quiet - the storm clouds of yesterday now gone. The storm has passed, and yet he doesn't feel calm at all.
In the distance, a wolf howls and the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
Something is coming. Something is...
He hears footsteps too, running footsteps. Quickly, he whips his gun out and turns around. Someone is coming from down the road, and he can barely make out that it's a man from the shape.
"Stop!" he orders, but the man keeps running until he's just a few feet ahead. It isn't someone he recognizes from their camp but he doesn't want to shoot until he's sure it's someone with hostile intentions. "Who are you?"
"Jefferson," the man says, his eyes wild. "They're coming!"
"What? Who?" Graham says in confusion.
"Albert Spencer and his mob," Jefferson says, breathing hard. "They've made fire bombs. They're coming to burn you out."
Graham can feel his mind racing. They have been suspecting that Spencer was up to something, but something like this? The world is already on fire and yet he's looking to burn even more of it down?
"How do you know?!" he demands.
"Gold made me spy on them," Jefferson says bitterly. "They're coming, they're not far behind me. I have to get Grace out of here, I have to..."
Gold would be the person to put a spy in Spencer's camp, Graham thinks, and then his brain kicks into gear. "Warn the others, tell Gold... Tell David and Sean it's code Albie and head towards the farmland outside of town. Go!"
"What about you?" Jefferson asks, but he's already moving towards the entrance of the town hall.
"I'm going to slow them down," Graham says quietly, and in the distance, the wolf howls again. Sorrowfully this time, almost like a dirge.
Maybe he was wrong, Graham considers as he races down the street. Maybe it's not about finding something worth living for. Maybe it's about finding something worth dying for.
And he's found that.