(I'D JUST LIKE TO SAY, i understand the jumping between the two different settings (aka Henry, August, and then Regina and Emma) is weird. And in this chapter, the scenes with R&E are at 3 in the morning, while the scenes with A&H are in mid daylight. It's confusing I know, but I'm having Henry and Augusts scenes take place way earlier on in the day where R&E are right now. Because last chapter I didn't get a chance to write what they were currently doing in Storybrooke after all those weeks that had passed. So here, we're catching up on what has happened in Storybrooke, I believe their timezones catch up to each other by the end of the chapter (: enjoy)
Needles; it felt like needles. No. More like knives, maybe? I wasn't able to pinpoint the exact feeling, but it wasn't amusing in any way possible. There was no other way to explain it other than.. abhorrent, ghastly.. any other word that could describe just plain horrendous, that's how it felt. It didn't feel real, as if I was in a dream but pain was still feel able. There was burning, too. Like someone had set a fire a blaze on my left foot, and it was slowly spreading throughout my entire body. My eyes were still closed, and I was petrified to open them for the oddest reason. Like that pitch black that hid behind my eyelids were going to save me from the torture that lingered in my foot. The pain continued, and it gradually became too much to bare. My eyelids lifted, pulling me away from the darkness and unveiling an almost pitch black room, and my hands grasped the bed sheets underneath me. I was relieved to find no fire, no knives, no.. danger; but the pain went on. I didn't dare to move my entire left leg, for if I even I curled a toe the burning and the torture would worsen.
I gasped, and tried to lift myself up in a sitting position. My palms winded up into fists, the hospital sheets being squeezed and entwined between my fingers, as I used them for some leverage to hoist myself with my casted spine against the railing on the back of the bed. Of course, the cast that still resided and swathed around my torso and chest, didn't make this horrid situation any easier. I had learned to maneuver myself quite easily as the days passed, because I knew I'd be in that cast for a while. But now I was in panic mode, and couldn't take a moment to think and focus on moving my body in a way that'd be much quicker and far more comfortable while also being concealed in this trap of a cast.
My muscles ached, and I could clearly hear my pounding heart in my skull like a drum. But this drum seemed to come with a pair of drum sticks, that repeatedly thudded the inside of my cranium like fireworks going off in an enclosed space. This was nothing compared to how I felt in the crash - but I guess I was just a big baby sometimes. The big bad mayor of Storybrooke, and former Evil Queen was close to bawling in a hospital bed, and contemplating just cutting her entire leg off. Who knew? My jaw was clenched so tightly that it started to make my teeth ache, and the headache manifesting itself inside my skull, worse.
I needed Emma. She was the only person who made me feel safe in situations like these, not those grimy nurses who had their heads so far up their asses they didn't know how to treat any human being like they had a heart in their chest. Well, who am I to talk? I had no room to judge, considering all the horrible things I've done... but all that pain, and all that misery always faded away when Emma was around. The gentle smile she gave when all she wanted to do was lift your spirits, was so warming, and sweet. Everything about her just fit perfectly, like a puzzle. She was different, far different than anyone else I've ever met. And her eyes, oh her eyes, were like these two globes of wonder and tranquility. They were safe.
I really needed Emma.
My palm retracted from gripping the sheets, leaving an elevated and wrinkled area of linen, and reached out towards my left leg, grasping it tightly as if that would stop the pain. News flash: it didn't. My nails dug deep into my flesh, threatening to break skin and draw blood. But that wasn't anything compared to the grueling pain dawdling itself in my foot.
Over the past few weeks, Emma and I talked and talked nonstop. There was never a silent or dull moment, unless it was Tuesday and we were watching soppy Disney movies, or a comedy that Emma would lurch over in giggle fits over. I had remembered a certain conversation, one about how she felt the need to always keep me safe and secure even if she wasn't there. It was a completely serious topic for her, because she seemed like she mean't every single word even if it sounded like one of her cringy jokes. She had mentioned something about a button, but my whirling mind couldn't focus hard enough to pinpoint the exact memory of Emma's strict words towards my safety.
My body lurched forwards, the cast restricting my urge to curl into a ball. My head lowered, and I squeezed my eyes shut trying to calm myself and concentrate on my breathing for once. My dark hair fell over my shoulders, and engulfed me into a shadow. My chest heaved up and down, and it seemed like every limb connected to my body shook uncontrollably and out of my will. Heat was slowly but surely rushing to my face, and this time it wasn't a blush I desperately would try to hide from Emma's alluring gaze. Wait, what? My mind was in shambles, with thoughts popping in and then leaving the next second. What in the hell was happening?
Emergency Button. That's what the hell Emma was talking on and on about. How did I not remember that? I didn't take a second to hesitate, and swung my head up, my eyes snapping open. Dizziness began to set in, and I felt myself leaning side to side without my consent. I placed a palm to my head, and squinted my eyes.
It should be here, where the hell is it?
I scanned my eyes over each wall that was closest to me, but the fact that it must've been the middle of the night, and the faintness that was rushing to my head didn't help my search in the least bit. The unpigmented walls were a blur, the only differences I could distinguish were the clique doctors office posters that I had been staring at and gotten overly used to for more than a month now.
There had to be a button.
No matter how deep I dug my nails into my calf muscle, the pain didn't lesson. I didn't want to be alone for any longer, someone had to get me Emma. I needed my support, I needed her. I whipped my head all around, and began to feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. Get it together and think, Regina. I took in a deep breath, my lung stretching with air and slowly retracting as I exhaled. I felt the blood rush through my veins, and my heartbeat playing a rhythm in my head. It was funny how I could recognize those things, but not a damn button.
I gave up on my sight, as it was no longer functioning correctly and resided to my trusty palms. I withdrew my fingernails from my skin, and outstretched my arm to my right and my left, trying to examine the barriers near me. My fingertips grazed over the rough felt drywall, finding nothing but peeling paint and a rare skim of smooth poster board.
My hope was lingering on the edge before my index finger skimmed over an elevated bump in the wall.
"..Fucking hell.." I exhaled deeply, my chest caving downwards. The relief I felt at that moment was the most comforted I had felt since Emma left just a few hours before. I used my other hand to push myself up just a few mere inches, and with only a few grunts and jaw clenching moments, I felt the gelid and polished surface of the button just underneath my palm. I didn't even care to look and make sure it was the right button, there wasn't any time in my mind. Nor could I even see clearly in the first place.
I used the rest of what little strength I still had in my bones, and pushed the button as far as it could go. Not only did I press it once, I slammed down on that fragile button as least ten times, hoping it'd make the help come faster.
Hoping it'd make Emma get here faster.
"Hey, Dr. Hopper!"
Henry skipped over to the heavy coat wearing psychiatrist, vacating his spot next to me on the bench. His petite palms struggled to clasp and keep hold on the leather back book that he lugged everywhere he went now, as it was practically glued to his side. The ginger haired man directed his attention to the small boy galloping towards him, with a smile stretched upon his lips. His gaze gradually trailed over to me, and he lifted his palm in a polite wave. I shot a courteous nod back in the direction of the doctor, along with a grin.
Over the past few weeks... or was it a month now? Henry and I had become the social butterflies of the town. Every morning, we'd meet at Granny's for some breakfast. Henry, of course got the opportunity to get everything he ordered for free - considering he was the Mayor's son, and everyone in the town adored him like their own. I, on the other hand, bought everything I ordered - so most mornings I'd either get nothing and suck it up, or a small cup of coffee. That one cup of coffee would be my life saver on most days. I'd have to chase Henry from place to place as he would chat up a storm to everyone on the block about the illustrations and stories that occupied the thick pages in the book. They'd smile, and listen intently as he would skip to the pages where their old selves lied. It was hard to tell if they believed, or were just being polite to the young boy. But Henry seemed to always be pleased with himself whenever we moved onto the next resident. As the days passed, more and more townsfolk began to talk about the stories. While some, had earnest conversations - others would chuckle and have a good laugh about it. I expected it; I mean, these people have gone years thinking they were someone else. They never questioned their lives before, as if it didn't bother them that they couldn't remember their childhoods or teen years. They were completely and utterly brainwashed, but they couldn't help it.
Then, weeks passed. Henry had at least talked to the entire town... twice. Maybe even three times; I quit counting after the third week of waltzing up and down the same street. Even after the excessive walking, running and circling the same town over and over... I was proud of him. I didn't expect his belief to skyrocket so quickly - but after that first phone call with his mother, his mind set had completely changed. All of his intellect was focused on the book, and the stories told in it. The more and more that he talked with his mother, the more he was driven to bring her home. From what I heard over the weeks, she was getting better. Slowly, but surely. No matter how badly I had despised that Evil Queen back in the Enchanted Forest, I was glad she was okay. Especially for Henry's sake, and Emma's. Henry never asked about Emma anymore, I think it was because he knew I wouldn't spill anything about her yet. She was to be kept secret until further notice. If I would've told him about her on the spot, he would've gotten curious and done some sort of research. I couldn't risk that, it was too important of information to say. And if he ended up hating me for not telling him in the end, then so be it. It just wasn't the right time, yet.
Another plus that came with Henry's adventurous personality and pull to share some fairy tales - was that I began to develop bonds with some of the residents myself. Everyone in town knew my name, August W. Booth. Whether it be good talk about the nice man watching over the Mayors son, or the bad - about the mysterious man who forced stories into a child's head. I didn't mind, because most didn't have a second thought about me anymore. Either that, or they were faking it. The dark haired waitress at the diner had warmed up to me far more than I had planned. She'd greet me every morning, and shoot a flirtatious smile towards me whenever we made eye contact. That was pretty alright with me, but Henry seemed to think it got old after a few million times. But part of me thought he was just getting jealous that his favorite waitress wasn't paying as much attention to him anymore. Mary Margaret still was a little cautious around my presence, she had barely spoken a word to me since the last time we talked at her apartment weeks ago. That James comment really played with her mind, and confused her in so many different ways - but I let her have her space. Whenever Henry wanted to go talk to her, I'd either wait in the background awkwardly, or find somewhere quiet to occupy my free time with while I waited for him to finish. I knew since the second I had met her back in Storybrooke that her and I wouldn't be on very good terms. She was Snow, for gods sake. I knew her for years back in the Enchanted Forest and I knew how stubborn she was. Now I see where Emma got that from.
"I swear I never see you without that thing anymore, Henry," Archie spoke up, kneeling to Henry's level as Pongo was graciously accepting the scratches and pets given to him.
"Yeah, well.. I always have it just in case I need it," Henry shrugged, scratching right behind Pongo's ear gently. Archie grinned at the small boy, and they began in small talk. I believe Archie was one of Henry's closest friends, since the kid didn't really talk to anyone at his school. He never talked about school period, besides MM. He was a real talker to the adults, and the shyest child you'd ever meet when he was around kids his age. He was somethin'.
I stayed plopped down on the bench, watching their interaction from just a few feet away, quietly. I slumped back, making my seating a bit more comfortable - knowing I was going to be there for a while from previous experiences. But the rough wooden surface didn't become more restful no matter how hard I tried, so I basically gave up and just relaxed however I was positioned. A flock of birds gathered in the grass, and began pecking into the dirt. My attention slowly focused on them, and their odd movements and manners. One would spread its wings and act like it was about to take off, but then stay and jolt its head back an forth gazing upon the rest of his winged friends. Their black coats shone from the sun beating down on their backs, and their beaks opened and closed releasing tones and squawks.
One of their heads popped up from investigating the ground, looking directly towards me. Then two, then three, then another and another. Before I knew it they were all studying me like a book - and I felt myself shrink in confusion. As quickly as I tilted my head befuddled, they were off, flying who knew where. No later than five seconds after their wings hit the wind, a shadow overcame me.
"Well hello, Mr. Booth." My gaze left the abandoned patch of now, flat grass and focused on the tall figure standing above me.
"Gold. Long time no see, huh old buddy?" I rose a brow, pulling one corner of my lip back in a smirk.
"Mind if I sit?" He asked, in that damned tone that you knew he was going to sit anyway. I didn't know where the hell he came from, but now I knew why those birds flew so quickly away. I would've too, if I could fly. He just had that look to him that sent chills down your spine, and the hairs on your arms stand straight up. And if his appearance didn't say anything, his personality sure did. I shook my head the slightest bit, and motioned my hand for the open seat next to me.
"Should I call you Mr. Gold, or is Rumple a bit more formal?" I joked, but didn't laugh. He sat down and tugged at his loose fitting suit before whipping his head over to look at me.
"Yes, I've realized that the boy has had a very open imagination lately - I wonder who's behind it," he snapped back, in his usual snarky manner. Funny how even after the curse, and loss of memory he still seemed like the same old Rumple as before. I glanced over his shoulder, and found Henry still chatting with Archie. He was now sitting cross legged on the plush ground, with the book open in his lap. Archie was kneeled down next to his small figure, examining the pages as Henry flipped by them one by one.
"Hey, don't look at me," I looked back at Gold, his gaze fixed on me like I was his prey, and he was my predator.
"Everyone is looking at you - it seems like you've become buddy buddy with every resident in this town."
"Well, I can't help that I'm completely irresistib-" He cut me off quite quickly, before I could even finish my snarky comment.
"Odd, how you showed up as soon as Ms. Mills left Storybrooke. Considering that you went straight towards her son." Crinkles deepened themselves as his brow furrowed, and he pursed his lips together waiting for some clever response back.
"I know, it was kinda weird timing but - I have a job to do here, that involves Henry and this town. You'll figure out soon enough," I scratched my jawline, and glanced away from his intimidating gaze before I was forced to look back.
"And what does Henry have to do with this job of yours?" The slight twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, hinted to me that he knew more than he was showing. He always did - no matter what curse, or spell that was thrown upon him; he'd always be Rumpelstiltskin.
I took in a deep breath, and turned my body the faintest way towards him, "Henry's job is to lug that old book around and tell people fairy tales. But of course, if you'd like the more complicated and detailed version, he has to make the people in this town believe that they were once, many years ago, fairy tale characters. Now go ahead, tell me I'm crazy, threaten to call his mom, and whatever else you'd like. I'm sorta used to this by now," my voice had risen throughout the explanation, without me meaning to. I had gotten so used to being scolded for putting stories in a child's head, I knew exactly what to say and how to say it, "and, if you were just dying to know, or if this would make any difference on your perspective - I'm Pinocchio. The great all mighty wooden boy-"
"Yes, yes I know who you are August."
"..What?" I turned my head, my brow knitting together quickly, perplexed.
"It seems that I had.. come to an agreement with the queen before her pretty little curse was unwound."
I hesitated, "So... you remember?" I asked, squinting my eyes and shifted in my seat. This most definitely was not part of my plan at all.
"That I do."
"Well... then, you should know why I'm here, right?" I peered at him, as if it was going to unleash all of his secrets and thoughts.
"Actually, I don't. That's part of the reason I came to talk to you." I almost laughed. Him? The great and powerful Rumpelstiltskin, going to another person for help? Because he didn't know something? Shocking.
"What's the other part?" I asked, my voice quivering only the slightest bit. You never really knew what to expect from this man. He was unpredictable, and scary. The only thing you knew about his next move, would be - it was never good.
"Emma Swan."
I almost scoffed at the comment after the shock that overtook my limbs. How in the hell did he know who she was? She had never took a step in Storybrooke, and he was no where near Snow and Charming before the curse was struck, "You expect me to tell you such information? You know, just because were in a different world, and the circumstances are far different - doesn't mean I'll fess up to whatever you ask me. You're still the good ol' Rumple that I remember."
He instinctively rolled his eyes, and his grip on his cane tightened noticeably, "Well, August.. if it makes you feel any better about the situation - I know she's the savior."
"How do you know that?" I snapped, almost protectively - like he was trying to crawl into my head, so I had to shield all of my thoughts. A smirk appeared slyly on his lips, and he tilted his head before speaking. He knew I was under his boot now, because he knew just as much as I did. Maybe even more.
"Long story sonny.. but - I have a question for you now," I saw the twinkle in his eyes that only showed itself when he was about to manipulate and conquer. I didn't nod, or say 'go ahead', I just stared, trying to get the gears in my mind rolling and working again, "does Regina know that? Considering she and Emma seemed to find each other and hit it off quite quickly, no?"
"What, that she's the savior?" I furrowed my brow, leaning towards his presence the slightest bit in anger and confusion, "Of course Regina wouldn't know, not even Emma knows.. yet." I sighed, my gaze shifting to the ground in thought.
"This savior.. could potentially ruin her entire plan to keep this town under a dreaded curse. She's going to feel manipulated... used - by one of the only people who care for her right now. How does that make you feel, August?" I looked away, my line of sight trying to escape the glare of Rumple's malicious eyes. He knew he was breaking me, it didn't take much to from him. The shitty thing about everything he was saying was that - he was right. Emma was Regina's only friend right now, someone she actually cared about for once in a long time besides Henry, "What is this Swan to Regina? Her supposed lov-"
"The curse needs to be broken." I cut in quickly, not letting him finish anymore sentences - or letting anymore words flow from his lips. But no matter how hard I tried - he wouldn't stop. He knew exactly how to shut someone down with only a few words.
"Just think, how heart broken Regina will be when she finds out her... love, is the person destined to break her beloved curse?" I stayed completely silent, trying to ignore his presence and let his words bounce off of my brain - but instead, my mind sucked in all of them, "I think you and I both agree that, your little plan needs to take a break and sit back for a while. Regina has lost love before, and look where that's landed us. I surely don't want to go back to that grimy forest, I like it here. And it seems like you do, too.." his dark eyes glanced over my shoulder for longer than I liked, so I pulled my brow together in confusion and strained my neck to look over my shoulder. A tall brunette was a few yards away, walking along the sidewalk - heading to a familiar diner. Ruby.
I scowled, angry that I was allowing myself to be this meat - this prey for him, "These people need their memories back, and you know it!" I rose my voice close to a shout. I saw the head full of dark hair turn from behind Rumple. It was Henry - and I guess I shouted a little too loud.
Nothing stopped the man in front of me, though. The devilish smile that danced upon his lips deepened and the crinkles around his eyes became more noticeable, "How is Henry going to feel when he figures out that you set his mother up for heartbreak and failure?" That tugged at my heart, and stopped air from entering my lungs.
"..I know what you're trying to do."
"What? I'm just trying to save everyone from getting hurt.. that's all," he tapped his foot, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Henry's presence slowly becoming larger and larger as he was approaching and saying his goodbye's to Archie and Pongo.
"You're trying to stop the curse from being broken, for your own selfish needs!" I furiously whispered, not wanting Henry's ears to pick up any words or sentences that were being spoken. We had a 'glare' off for the last few moments we had alone and away from a child's ears. No words, just anger radiating heat off one another in the most awkward and intense of ways.
"Hey, is.. everything okay?" The mayors son finally reached the side of the bench, and glanced nervously between us two men who were suspiciously glaring at one another. Rumple broke the eye contact first, and fixed his grip on his cane before speaking once more.
"Yes of course Henry, I was just on my way," he put all of his weight on the cane, lifting himself up clumsily from the wooden bench and trying to balance on the unsteady grass below him, "it was nice speaking to you again, August." The monotone in his voice made me cringe, and I watched cautiously as he limped off, back to wherever the hell he came from.
Henry's dusky eyes caught mine, and gave me a befuddled tilt of the head and raising of a brow to hint to me that he was obviously confused and wanting to know the scoop of drama that had just happened on a park bench. But I didn't speak, I just glared back at him with a disappointed expression and a large inhale that turned into a defeated sigh. He knew I was clearly upset, but he luckily didn't know why.
Thank goodness for curly haired psychiatrists, and spotted dogs.
The automatic doors that led into the rubber glove scented vicinity couldn't open fast enough for me. I was still in my scrubs, as I had just been in the same building doing what I was paid for just a few hours or so ago. I ran up to the glass doors, hopping on my toes and mentally trying to rush their automated opening. As soon as the gap was large enough for me to squeeze through, I continued my anxious half run, half walk. I just wanted to get to Regina. The thought of her in grueling pain for longer than she needed to be made my heart ache. I told her I would take care of her, and that I shall do. With every step I took on the polished floors, my white sneakers squeaked and squealed with my pace, and I felt like I was getting nowhere. Like I was stuck in the same spot no matter how fast I ran. The bland walls continued down every hallway, along with the same tiled floors and replicated doors that were the exact distance apart every time.
Nurses and fellow workers pulled their brows together and gave me muddled glances and glares as I traveled down halls antsy and tenser than ever. I was panicking - I was just one hundred percent frightened, not for myself. For Regina. I knew I should've kept a better eye on that damned infection. I knew it lingered, and disappeared every once in a while - but it always came back no matter how hard I tried with the antibiotics. I checked her foot everyday, maybe even two or three times until she got annoyed with me. I should've checked it four or five, and ignored her rolling eyes and snarky comments that I adored.
My legs carried me through the maze we called a hospital - my mind leading me down the same path I took every single day. I took a sharp turn into the hall where Regina's room was located, and felt my heart skip a few million beats as I heard a grueling yelp and howl resulting from some form of pain. I knew it was Regina, it had to be. Who else in this exact hall was suffering from an infection at three in the morning? I almost stopped in the tracks after I heard the yelling; scared that whatever I was going to walk into was going to break my heart and shatter it into a trillion pieces. But I had to remind myself that no matter what I did, and the time that I took to prepare myself - it wouldn't change the situation and the feelings I would express and manifest in my brain. So, I kept walking. No - running. I took leaps farther than I ever had before, and finally reached the white plastered door that separated me and Regina.
My shaky palm reached out and grasped the door knob tightly, tight enough to indent my fist print into the metal surface. The tendons and veins in my hands and arms strained and stuck out noticeably, and the blood in my body rushed quickly to my head as my body felt like it was filling up slowly with hot and cold air. I twisted the handle quickly, surprised that the projection didn't rip from the door and break completely. I pushed the door open straightaway, and watched a whole new scene unfold out before me.
There were only two nurses present in the room, and that made my blood boil. I wanted a whole crew, at least five people in the room with her. Watching and making sure that nothing drastic would happen while I wasn't there. One nurse was placing a cool rag on her forehead, and trying to keep her as calm as possible as the other nurse examined her infected foot. She was unwrapping it carefully, glancing back and forth between the foot and Regina. I recognized the nurse who was analyzing the infection. It was the same one who had called me down - Regina's main nurse that basically stepped down after I took over and watched Regina myself. Her eyes met mine, but I quickly looked away and my gaze landed directly on the brunette woman who was straining herself from screeching out in pain.
"..Regina," I murmured breathlessly. The nurse that was present at her side speedily moved out of the way as I galloped over to Regina. Her jaw was clenched tightly, and her eyes fluttered open as she felt a different existence next to her. I examined her facial features, and her dark eyes as they opened and met mine. Instead of the eery chocolate color I had seen for weeks on end, was now a golden yellow and green like she had been crying for hours upon hours. She took in a sharp breath, and her cold palm instantly wrapped itself around my wrist as pain shot throughout her body. After she collected herself, and managed to hold back the tears in her eyes - she gazed up at me.
"Back again so quickly, Swan?" She said dozily. I would've giggled at the use of my nickname, 'Swan' - but it just wasn't the time. My lungs expanded as I inhaled deeply, and felt tears gathering to my eyes. I knew she mean't it as a joke, but I could see it in her eyes that she needed me - and that she was glad I was back. She tried to grin, but immediately stopped as another wave of pain washed over her. I lifted my hand, and placed the back end of my palm to her cheeks and forehead - trying to feel for a temperature. Without delay, heat was found and was basically radiating from her body like a furnace.
"She's burning up," I stated, unable to pull my gaze away from her pale face. She had dark circles under eyes, and her eyes were completely bloodshot. The grip she had on my wrist tightened, and I gently placed my palm over hers in comfort - but I knew it wouldn't help at all, "why didn't anyone give her anesthesia?" I snapped, glancing between the two nurses I was between. They both looked to each other for an answer, but not one was given. The anger I was feelings, was finally starting to show - and reveal itself from under my skin. Regina's 'main' nurse spoke up after a few moments of my blood boiling.
"I - we just thought-" she stuttered terribly, so I decided to just cut her off completely before she could embarrass herself furthermore.
"Get her on some," I said sternly and paused, then I felt another tight pulse on my wrist, "now."
They rushed around the small room, and finally hooked her up to some anesthesia. It made me feel far better about the situation, and obviously would make Regina feel better, too. As soon as her veins began to flow with the medicine, I felt her muscles relax and her grip on me loosen. I held my palm over hers for a few more moments, knowing I had to let go eventually. I wanted to sit there, and watch over her until she finally fell unconscious, but knew I had to do my job. I gracefully lifted my hand, and gently had her release her grip. I sat her palm back down to her side, and she watched me woozily. I forced a small grin, before trudging my way over to her foot that the nurse was still unwrapping carefully. The nurse scooted over, and waited patiently for me to stick my hands into the tight elastic gloves. I turned, and grasped the edges of the wrapping around her foot, but glanced down at Regina for the slightest moment. I gave her the most sympathetic look I had in me, and then continued unwrapping. It was layer after layer, until I finally reached the surface of her skin. Her foot was swollen horribly, and was discolored with yellow, and irritated. My breath got hitched in my throat as I studied the distended foot. No wonder she was in so much pain, it looked horrendous.
"If only Jefferson was here.. this needs all the help it can get." The nurse next to me sighed, catching me off guard. I furrowed my brow, and turned my head slowly to look down at her in a mix of anger and befuddlement. She knew how close I was with Jefferson, and the bare mention of him made my heart hurt. She obviously didn't see what she did wrong, because as I looked to her - she looked back at me with confusion in her eyes. I wanted to scold her, to tell her to watch what she says before she's the one in the hospital bed instead. But I was reeled in from my thoughts.
"What?" Regina spoke up, her drowsiness creeping through.
I turned my head, and saw Regina trying to lift herself up to see what we were doing. Or I, anyway, "Sh, sh. Lie down, Regina." I whispered, in the calmest manner possible. What I figured out over the past month or so, was that it took a while for Regina to finally become unconscious. She was tough, and stubborn. Those didn't mix well, and resulted in an awake but relaxed Regina that cracked me up through her wooziness.
"I.. thought I got rid of that bastard years ago.. - ow! Dammit..." she muttered, and my mind completely blew over the fact of what she had stated before the 'ow' portion. I was too focused on keeping her comfortable, and safe.
"..Sorry, Gina-" I stuttered, and continued to attentively investigate her swollen foot before I realized what she had said. My mind clicked, and I licked my lips before speaking to dazed Regina, "wait, what did you just say?" I asked, expressing my voice loud enough for her to hear it. She lifted her head weakly, and squinted her eyes - trying to focus.
"Ow?" She glared at me in a sassy, yet perplexed manner.
I shook my head, "No, before that Gina." Gina had become her official nickname to me. I used it whenever I pleased and she never objected - so it stuck. To Regina, it was better than 'bossy mayor', or Madam Mayor. Even though her and I both knew she liked Madam Mayor more than she cared to admit. Just as much as I didn't want to admit that Miss Swan was something I'd die to hear everyday. She began to glance around the room in thought, even if no ideas or answers came to her brain she kept trying.
Her feeble palm held the cold rag to her forehead, "Oh.. that-" she muttered.
"I thought you said-" I started to speak, but was cut short as Regina's lungs gasped for air. She threw her head back into her pillow, as another grueling pain sprouted from her foot what was in my hands. My heart dropped, and tried to release as much pressure as I could from her swelling limb - but I knew it wouldn't lessen the pain much more, "get her more anesthesia, this isn't going down without a fight," I sighed, and tried my best to keep her foot still as her body writhed and squirmed to try and escape the agony. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted, and felt like there was this weight on my chest, weighing me down. So many things were twirling and piling in my mind, even before I got the phone call for Regina. Feelings I didn't want to feel, and thoughts I didn't want to think. Now, more and more were being added to that pile of junk - and I couldn't help it.
As the nurses swarmed around the room and began to stock her veins even fuller with anesthesia, Regina lifted her arm in a manner that i thought she was reaching for her leg. But instead of her palm coming down and grasping her calf, it stayed mid-air. Something that you'd see in a movie, where magic would sprout from their palm and do either something destructive or something helpful. I saw her eyes search her hand, her muscles straining in her bicep. She knit her brow together in confusion, and all in just a few seconds her mind went from confound to comprehension. As if her mind clicked, and she saw the mistake she was making.
"..Shit," I heard her mutter through all of the clattering and movement in the small room. I was the one puzzled now, but I was also curious as to what she thought would happen. Again, she was on anesthesia, so she was a bit loopy. But, it was still odd. I shook my head, towing myself from my contemplation. I needed to get this infection fixed, and Regina better. This was no time for overthinking and curiousness.
I cleared my throat, gathering the nurses attention, "We need those medications, and she needs prepped for surgery, now." They obeyed my orders and started to run around the room like bee's in a beehive. I tried to heedfully wrap her inflated foot back up, but didn't secure the bandage, knowing it would be too much pressure for her. My eyes swept from dressing, up to Regina's cocoa brown eyes that were now struggling to stay open. She gazed right back at me, and the twinkle in her eyes made me believe that a bit of the normal Regina was peaking through the woozy one. I knew that look, I knew her. In the mere month or so, I had learned more about her than I ever thought I would. And she knew more about me than I had ever imagined. I wasn't the type of person to open up, nor was she. But together, we weren't afraid to tell each other anything, we were open books just waiting to be read.
I leered down at her with a painful expression, and watched as the anesthesia took over and finally pulled her into an unconscious state. Her chocolate brown eyes closed, and became just soothing restful eyelids. This was going to be the last time she'd have to undergo the sleeping drug. I wasn't going to have her suffer any longer than needed in this dreadful hospital. I wanted her to get home to her son just as much as she did. Not because I wanted her gone, I just wanted her to be happy.
With, or without me.
I was at least a good fifteen steps behind August's fast pace. My short legs were no match compared to his lengthy ones and determined mindset. The storybook I lugged around was difficult to maneuver at times, and this was one of those times. It slipped and fell, and bounced around in my arms like a squirming baby. I didn't know a book could be so much work. Or it possibly could've been because I was struggling to keep up to the prickly bearded man who seemed to have no interest in me at the moment. I tried my hardest to take larger steps than usual, but that didn't help. So I resorted to making myself noticed.
"Wait up!" I shouted, wrapping my arms protectively around the novel as I began to run to August's side, "What was that all about?" I asked, referring to Mr. Gold's strange approach that had just happened moments earlier, before he stood up and decided to run away from me. Now I see why people were afraid of him when he first entered Storybrooke.
"Nothing kid." His raspy voice spoke up. I decided to ignore the 'kid' part of the short response, and continue with my attempt of a conversation with Mr. grumpy pants.
"You sure about that? I heard you guys arguing..." I trailed off, trying to stay within my safety boundary and not wanting to anger him anymore than he already was.
"He knows everything." He snapped, and continued walking faster than a normal human being would on any normal day. Which I mean, yeah, he wasn't a real human being. He was Pinocchio, just in... human form? I confused myself over my ridiculous thoughts more than his statement. Like I usually did.
I tilted my head, even if he didn't see it, or care to look, "Well, isn't that a good thing?" I asked. It was his words that I went by. He said that the more people believed, the quicker my mother would come home. But now, he was saying that it was a bad thing that someone knew and believed everything. Adults are complicated, that's my verdict. Because there wasn't any other explanation that he was caring to give to me.
"Not exactly." I was tired of the short responses, and grumpy attitude. I wanted the August I knew just an hour earlier, who liked to talk to me. I know, I may of been acting like a total nine year old who wanted attention - but it sucked knowing that he was all you had for the time being. Especially when your mother was still bed-ridden in a hospital. But I decided to kill him with kindness, and act as if he responses didn't hurt.
"Hm. What's so bad about him knowing, then? Doesn't that mean we're closer to bringing my mom home?" I asked, trying to pull at his strings to make him break and spill what had actually happened on that wooden craft. August continued walking swiftly to whatever his destination was supposed to me, and I relentlessly tried to keep up.
He took in a short inhale, "He doesn't want us to break the curse." His cavernous voice struck me hard this time, as the words flowed past his lips. Why would a cursed resident, not want the one thing that was keeping them from their true selves, broken? Then again, I was a young boy who barely knew how to write the word, 'occurrence' properly. I had to believe August on what he said, because he was the only adult around that truly understood this book and the actions of people in this town.
"W-Why not?" I stuttered over my words, still partially digging through the junk pile in my mind that were my thoughts. I glanced up at August, and watched as he clenched his jaw a few hundred times before he even thought of answering my question.
"Listen, just keep on doin' what you're doin' kid. Keep making these people believe, and I'll handle Mr. Stiltskin. No matter what the consequences, we're taking these people back home and breaking this curse for good." I would've stopped and stared in shock at his response, only that I was still fighting my way to match his pace and catch up to the man. All I could do was widen my eyes, and listen intently.
"Consequences? I thought all we were doing was helping - I didn't think there were gonna be consequences," I questioned, oddly befuddled. I knew that the only problem we had, was my mother. Which to me, she wasn't a problem in the least. Maybe to others, but not her own son. Now, the consequences August spoke of - I had no idea what they were. And I knew he wouldn't tell me, no matter how hard I tried. I continuously pried to know who the Emma girl was, but he didn't peep the slightest of information that was useful. Then, I got lucky. My mother called, and at some point in the conversation she mentioned an Emma. Her doctor - that's who Emma Swan was. But what had confused me the most, is that even after all these phone calls with my mother - and the nonstop speaking of Emma, all she was, was a doctor. Nothing more. So why was she so important to August? Why was she this huge secret that had to be kept? I'd probably never figure it out until the day I day, if I was lucky.
"Yeah. Me too," he reeled me back to reality with his words that were now softer than before. Like he was trying to be sympathetic, and kind. Who knows, maybe he wiggled himself into my mind and found out the mistakes he had made and decided to be a little less harsh for once today. Or maybe I was just delusional.
Yeah, probably that last one.
I ran my hands down the crinkled sheets, smoothing them down to hug tightly around the mattress. The room was a mix of white, yellow and orange as the lowering sun swept through the thin curtains. My eyes traveled with my slim palm, up and down the sheets, my nerves wracking against my body and causing me to shake noticeably. My legs were curled up to my chest, as I hugged myself into a little ball in the plush chair that I had drug over to Regina's bedside a million times before. I was close enough to where I could rest my elbow right on the palatial bedding, and fall asleep on the same pillow as her. But I just sat, and watched. I watched as her chest heaved up and down, giving me the sure sign that she was okay. And I watched the rare twitch of her hand, and foot. I sat there for hours, knowing she'd surely be asleep for a while, but I stayed anyway. I leaned against the edge of the mattress, and my eyes scanned over her serene countenance. I tucked a few loose hairs gently behind her ear, and couldn't withhold myself from eventually running my fingers through her dark locks. Even if she were awake, she wouldn't mind it. Whenever she was upset, or angry and couldn't do much about it - I'd try to calm her down in any way possible. Running my hands through her hair wasn't such a new thing for either of us. The first time I did it, I didn't really mean to. It just... happened, but neither of us objected. It was something calming to both of us, something that reminded us that we were always there for one another. That's what friends did, right?
Her dark silky hair glided through my fingers and fell gently onto her pillow below her head. She was passed out cold on medication, and a little bit of anesthesia that were still flowing through her veins. I made sure that she was kept asleep for as long as possible, so she didn't have to endure anymore pain than was necessary. She was doing so well for the longest time, that I was sure she'd be home in no time. But then, my shitty self couldn't keep a good eye on an infection. Maybe I was just being too harsh on myself, but I was so eager to get her home and back to her son that anything that went wrong - was automatically my fault. Who knew, maybe my brain was right and it was all my fault.
My green eyes journeyed down to Regina's foot, that was now wrapped tightly and securely in medical gaws. The surgery went well, besides the occasional getting stuck in my thoughts and overthinking everything. I was surprised that I hadn't been fired yet, considering that ever since Regina showed up in this damned hospital, I've been off track completely. The gears in my mind didn't function properly anymore, unless I was by her side and helping her through her day. I liked being around her, and not because it made me look like I was still doing my job. Because, she understood me more than anyone I had ever met before. Her sarcasm, and attitude was perfectly balanced with how sweet she could actually be. She was brunette, I was blonde.. we were perfect opposites. What was that saying.. opposites attract? Shit.
I veered my attention away from her foot, and looked back to her restful face. My fingertips tugged and messed with the loose spots on the bed sheet, before I finally sucked it up and said, 'screw it'. I released the unpigmented sheets, and outstretched my arm the slightest bit to place my cold palm on top of Regina's. I tucked my head down vaguely, a bashful grin dancing across my lips before I could work the courage back up to face her placid state.
"Uh-m.." I muttered, my voice lower than planned, "I know I'm kinda talking to myself right now.. but, I feel like I should be doing this.." I traced circles on the top of her hand with my thumb, trying to loosen my tense muscles and steady my nerves. My gaze traced along her cheekbones, and to her closed eyelids as if I was expecting them to open, "I-...I know that you kept this a secret from me for a few days.. the infection, I mean. Because there is no way in hell that an infection like that can happen in just a few hours, Gina. But, hey - it's okay, I know you're stubborn.. I just wish we could've gotten it taken care of sooner." During the surgery, the nurses and I talked. Earlier, when she was still conscious and I was still trying to collect my thoughts, I didn't happen to realize how bad the infection actually was. It was something that couldn't just appear overnight; it took time to sprout like that, around a few nights or more. I was angry that she didn't tell me, but I was even more furious at myself. The fact that I checked it day after day, and didn't see that it was slowly getting worse made my heart drop and my stomach twist into a knot of regret and shame. Some doctor I was, huh? "Anyway," I exhaled softly, "before I got the call, I was just... driving. For some reason, I just couldn't bring myself to go home. I mean, I wouldn't of slept anyway," I chuckled faintly, glancing nervously between our hands and her glowing skin for a split second before continuing, "see, on this certain road, many years ago.. there was a baby. She was left.. alone, just abandoned on this shitty gravel road," I shook my head, forcing a soft smile to lighten whatever mood I was creating, "god knows how she survived.. but she grew up. She became this broken little girl, who hopped from home to home, not knowing why she was given up. She was so unloved and unhappy.. but she kept going." There were the tears, that I was so patiently waiting for. They gathered in the corners of my eyes, and continued to appear until they threatened to spill over onto my cheeks; but I continued the tale. "She kept going because she knew she was stronger than a couple hurtful words, and broken families where she didn't belong. That anger, and strength was all she had... so she didn't let it go," here came the voice cracks, and trembling lips, "for years, she grew up with this grudge and belief that nobody would ever love her, because she didn't belong. But for a moment.. for the smallest moment, she was happy. But that happiness faded away just as the one who gave it to her. He didn't leave her empty handed, though.." I paused, and let a tear escape past my crumbling walls. It slid down my cheek, and fell onto the sheets, like a raindrop, "..she had a child." I took in a deep inhale, my lungs expanding and my heart aching. Who's idea was this again? Right, mine. "This child was hers, but she decided to give it, it's best chance.. and that was without her. And no matter how hard it hurt, she knew it was for the best - because, how could an unlovable person raise a child? She couldn't. But she continued to grow, and learn.. and things began to take a turn towards the best." I wiped my cheeks with the back of my free hand, and gave hers a gentle squeeze of reassurance that I was still here. "She got a job.. and ended up being one of the most successful doctors in the hospital. It wasn't what she had planned, but... it was something," I tried my hardest to keep at least a grin on my face, even if there was no conscious person to show it to. "She met wonderful people, with wonderful stories.. but she was just Emma. The lost girl, who still hadn't found herself after 28 years." I shifted in my seat, scooting myself closer to the unconscious brunette, "And even after the countless friends she made, she never felt important.. loved.." I still didn't know why I wanted to do this; I was practically telling my life story to someone who wasn't even listening. But, hey - maybe there was a wandering nurse or doctor out in the hall that was interested. Who knew. "..but then you were pushed through those doors, and somehow you pushed your way into my life, too. You're the only one who understands, and listens.. to my ridiculous jokes and bizarre behavior.. I've never opened myself up so much to someone before. And, hell - I barely even know you, huh Gina?" I chuckled, smiling down at her unconscious condition, "And I bet, if anyone asked that lost girl to choose between a free meal that included hot cocoa with cinnamon, or you.. she'd choose you. I choose you, Regina." I went silent, the only other sound in the room was the soft ticking of the clock hanging on the wall. And if I listened closely enough - or shut my mouth for once, I could hear Regina's steady breaths through the thin air.
For once, since I had started to belch my soppy story, I sat and listened. I also examined, and paid attention to every little detail I could find and see. Not the details like the narrow cracks that were beginning to sprout in the old walls like roots to a flower, or the way the clock was slightly tilted to the right, placing the twelve where the one was supposed to be. It was the details in Regina's skin, hair.. face. The way her hair flowed just past her shoulders, and rested gracefully on her collar bones; or the way her skin seemed to glow this luminescent gold even when she was out cold on two or three different medications. I began to see them, and appreciate them. I appreciated her, and how kind she was to me and the way her eyes lit up when I walked into the room - making me feel far more important than I ever was. And how every time we played a board game of sorts, she'd always beat me the first time, and let me win the second because she knew I was just as stubborn as she was. I wanted her to know how much I cared for her, and how much I valued her - but even more, I wanted to know if she felt the same. The thoughts that rushed through the columns in my brain were begging to be let out, and to be spoken. I wanted them to be free, too. But the harsh reality was something I wasn't ready to face - it wasn't the time or place, either.
But there's a first for everything, huh?
"You wanna know what I was thinking about in the car before I came here?" I sucked in a short breath, my dried tears stained my cheeks and new ones were gathering themselves back into my hazel eyes. I tucked another loose strand of hair behind her delicate ear, and leaned against the edge of the bedding carefully. Emma Swan you were fucking crazy.
"I was thinking about how much I-" A high pitched noise cut me off, and made me jump in my seat. I glanced around without moving, trying to recollect my feelings and getting the gears in my head turning again. It continued for a few more seconds before I realized what it was. It was a telephone; the one that resided next to Regina's bedside in fact. I exhaled deeply, confusion and anger rising inside me. It wasn't even the fact that I was interrupted; it was more because of the shrilling noise that the ringing made. I also hadn't rested or taken a nap in almost twenty-four hours, so that might've been a reason, too. I turned my head, and had to lift my palm away from Regina's to be able to reach the phone from the table. I clasped my fingers around the telephone, and lifted it's cold surface to my ear.
"..Hello?" I spoke, my voice low and groggy.
"Mom?.." My body froze, and my blood went cold. Who in the hell is calling me mom? The response, and the small voice that spoke back didn't seem to fit into the puzzle in the mind. Again, another reason I needed to just go home and take a nice long nap. My brow furrowed, and I stared blankly into thin air for a few awkwardly silent moments before my eyes wandered and met the surface of the tilted clock. It read, 6:43 p.m.
"..Henry," I murmured, not registering the fact that I was now speaking my thoughts instead of keeping them locked away in my brain, "I-I mean, Henry - n-no, this is Emma.. Emma Swan, your mothers doctor.. I believe we've spoken before..?" I stammered, curling back into the ball I was in earlier.
"More like, improperly introduced." His young tone replied, in an almost sarcastic manner. For nine years old he sure liked large and complicated words, huh? Well, of course he did. He was Regina's son after all. They might not have been related by blood, but hell - they should've been.
"Huh.. okay," I drew out, my mouth hanging open the slightest bit in confusion.
"So.. is my mom there?" He asked after a few seconds of silence. I heard the eagerness rising in his voice, but knew I couldn't wake her up as easily as anyone may of thought.
"Oh, she uh..," I scratched the back of my head, trying to think of some sort of excuse. I didn't want to go through the whole explanation of an infected foot and a coupe doses of anesthesia, "she's sleeping, actually." I tugged at my collar, hoping he'd accept it and go on with his night.
"Hm.. I'm going to ignore your awkward pause, like you were thinking, and choose to believe you." Holy hell he had some sass in him. I rose a brow, and didn't argue with his response.
"So..." I trailed off, waiting for him to speak up, say goodnight and hang up. But that didn't happen, instead he was there but silent on the other end. I glanced around the small hospital room, counting down the seconds until I would said goodnight myself.
"..Can you talk, then?" He took me by surprise.
"Uh- sure, I-I guess," I shook my head, sitting straight up in my seat. I wanted so badly for Regina to be awake, just so she could see the shock and delight spreading over my face. He wanted to talk to me? His mothers doctor? Hm, I wasn't going to argue with that either.
"So.. are doctors supposed to stay there when their.. patients are sleeping?.." He asked; curiousness was something I expected - so you'd think I would've been more prepared for that question.
"Uh... sometimes, I just-" my eyes scanned her limp body, "I wanted to make sure that she was okay." I didn't know how else to explain it, considering I barely knew this little boy and I didn't want to crowd his brain with odd and complex explanations. But from my observation of his statements and utterance, he was a pretty sharp-witted kid. Like mother like son; that's the saying, right?
"So she's okay?" His voice rose rose many keys, as his daunting emotions began to peak through, and show themselves. My heart flourished with warmth; the love and bond between these two was something you could just feel. You could just see the extended sturdy bondage of chains that linked them together, no matter how far apart they really were from one another. It was beautiful. Something I hadn't felt or seen in such a prolonged period of time.
A grin unrolled across my lips, and I bowed my head in a nod knowing fully that he couldn't see me anyway, "She's... good, she's really good, Henry." An endearing and hushed exhale of relief arose from the other end. It made me jovial, knowing that I could make someone else's night with just a few words of hope and comfort.
He was utterly silent for the moments that followed. I took a guess, and assumed that he was attempting to hold down the bubbly and joyful giggles that arose inside of him. Children were funny, they became overly and emotionally excited whenever they got the chance. Emotions weren't too much a part of my own personal vocabulary - so it was interesting to see or hear someone else experience them so easily. It took storms, and hurricanes to get something to ascend and display itself out of me. But with Henry, even if I barely knew this kid, I could tell that he couldn't control what he felt and what he didn't. With Regina, she may of thought that she concealed her emotions well, but I could see right through her. She felt things, deeply. You could detect how they took her over, and rattled her bones like wind chimes. They coursed through her veins quicker than her own blood and washed over her mind like a tsunami. She held that feeling in her core, and let it manifest because she would rather die than show it to anyone else. But that was Regina; and she was much like me... and I was much like her.
"So here's the thing, Henry," I spoke again, not letting the awkward silence overtake the call, "your mother is getting better by the day.. I can assure you that. She's.. gonna be home in no time, kid." I smiled softly, and could practically feel the presence of a beam spread across his face.
"Really?" He spoke with a mix of excitement and weary cheeks.
"Mhm," I hummed smoothly, enjoying the fact that I just continued to give this kid better and better news as the seconds passed, "but.. you have to do something for me." I pulled the teasing card, that all kids either founds exciting and adventurous or took it as an impossible task that couldn't be completed without a superhero's help. Henry, on the other hand - was part of the excited group.
"Which is?" He asked, followed with shuffling on the other end. I imagined a small little boy, with a wide smile that held only a few holes where teeth were supposed to be. I know I know, he was nine. But some part of me hoped that this nine year old still appeared as if he was 6. I envisioned him holding a large telephone with a coil wire up to his ear; the phone covering a large portion of his face because he hadn't grown into such large telephones, yet. He was sitting in his mothers office chair, which was large enough to seat three of him - he had his legs curled underneath of his bottom, so he could barely rest his crossed arms on the desk in front of him. It was a picture of pure adorableness. But I knew he was much older than my vision, and could actually reach the top of the desk whilst sitting properly on his mothers chair.
I ran a cold hand through my golden locks, and cleared my throat, "When your mom gets home.. I want you to shower her with hugs and kisses until she can't handle it anymore.. but then, shower her with more," we shared a giggle, and I would never forget it. I felt the need to care for him, just as I cared for his mother. It was something I couldn't explain, but it was nice.. actually caring about something for once.
"I'll make sure to put that in my Scooby-Doo calendar," he cracked a joke, which was something that I wasn't expecting for some odd reason.
"You have a Scooby-Doo calendar?" I dissolved into laughter, the kid knew how to hit a funny bone. He reminded me of myself when I was younger, but he was far more free and expressing than I ever was.
"Let's not talk about it.." he groaned, and the snickers and cackles sustained. After we calmed ourselves down after a few instants, I heard him take a short inhale of breath as if he were to speak again, ".. can I tell you something? I mean, you probably won't care, but it's something I can't really tell my mom.. I want to get it off my chest so I'm not weighing it around all the time." The sudden turn in conversation surprised me, considering he didn't seem like a kid who would open up much unless he had to.
"Well.. sure, kid - anything," I faltered. I wasn't sure how well I was going to handle this situation; I wasn't the motherly figure like his own, I was just Emma. I didn't have prior experience with children, besides my foster homes and the bullies that lived within them. I was a mother for less than an hour, if you didn't count the nine months of carrying the poor thing. I was never taught how to deal with conditions like this. But who was I to give up on such an adventure.
He hesitated, but finally found the courage to warm up to me and speak, "I.. was supposed to be staying with some people, so they could keep an eye on me while my mom was gone. But.. I ended up going home, because I'd rather be home than somewhere I didn't want to be," he sighed, and I wondered if that was it. However, his tone exhibited that he wasn't even to the part that he was truly wanting to confess, "I'm home, and I'm safe - and I don't want her to worry. But, I have someone else watching over me now - and his name is August.. he's my friend, but I knew she'd freak if she found out that a random and strange guy just came into her house and started telling her son about a storybook."
"A storybook?" I asked, my brow shot up in question.
"It sounds crazy, and the way I'm putting it, isn't making much sense - but, yeah. A storybook." I was speechless; I expected a story about how he snuck to a friends house or that he had some sort of crush on a girl. Not something so complex about a random stranger showing up on your doorstep, and becoming buddy buddy with him.
"Uhm.. and I can't.. tell your mother about this?" I queried, hopping between to different sides of, doing the right thing, or staying true to to help out a kid that I wanted to suck up to.
"No, and I'm trusting you with this secret. So you gotta keep it, okay?" I felt so much pressure on my chest, like I was talking bad about Regina behind her back. It was crazy that I was being told something I had to keep from her, as she lied right in front of me peacefully.
"Uh.." I inhaled, my lungs expanding along with my anxiety.
"..Please.." he murmured, the desperation in his voice had my heart melting into complete weakness.
I tilted my head, and clenched my jaw. Emma, you weak son of a bitch. "Okay.. I promise." I mentally smacked myself on the forehead multiple times, knowing I should've said no way, and told Regina immediately, "But kid, if I get into trouble with this - I'm comin' for you first," I chuckled, rolling my eyes.
"Deal." His compact voice spoke, in that same damn tone that could make the toughest and most cold-hearted person collapse into his palms like a puppet, "And you might not want to tell my mom that I talked to you while she was sleeping.. she gets a little jealous sometimes," he joked, as he burst into a giggle fit. I joined, and shook my head.
"It'll be nothing I can't handle, kid," I sighed, leaning against the back of the chair relaxed. I was handling this situation better than I expected - and it was nice. Talking to him, was like talking to my inner child that I always wanted to express.
Hm. Maybe I wouldn't of been such a bad mother myself.
I placed the glossy telephone back onto its holder, with a swift movement of my hand. It was crazy to think that after weeks on end, talking to my mother - I never had gotten the chance to speak to Emma, once. Considering almost every single time I spoke to my mother, Emma seemed to be near - or in the room somewhere, lingering. They were together all the time, put aside the fact that Emma was her doctor; it was kinda weird to think about. Now, if it was a male doctor, I'd be teasing her for days about her 'new boyfriend'. But maybe I could still tease her about her new best friend. She doesn't really have any friends, unless you count residents in a town that have to be friendly because she's their mayor. So it was nice knowing that she had company, and wasn't stuck in a hospital all by herself. Emma seemed nice, too.
I took in a deep inhale, and gazed upon the room before me. It was my mother's office; covered in clique black and white, and oddly dim lighting. The hanging lamps, and geometrical flooring gave it an eery feeling as if it were something sacred. Nevertheless, I liked being in there. Especially when my mother was away; it was a place where I still felt connected with her, when I couldn't actually speak - or see her. Her plush rolly chair was the first thing I always ran to as a child when she let me come with her to work. It was fun, and comfy - but no matter how much noise and commotion I made, along with being such a distraction, she let me sit in it for as long as I wanted. She called it my throne, because of how much I sat in it. At one point she worried that I'd never get out of it, and would have to pry me from his black leather surface.
I missed it. I missed her; she had never been gone for so long on a business trip before. It was new, and abnormal waking up and not finding a fresh stack of pancakes on the counter just waiting for me, or my mom shaking me gently awake early in the morning so we could get breakfast at Granny's before school. I wanted her home.. and maybe I was over exaggerating a tad bit and being a needy child like I always was. But, any child or kid would miss their parent if they disappeared for longer than needed, and then soon find out that he or she had been involved in a car wreck. It was scary, very scary. Everything is normal, then a stranger knocks on my doorstep with news that would spin my world around like some sort of carnival ride. Then again, my life was never normal. I was surrounded by overly joyful people who seemed too perfect for a town like this - and an overachieving mother who always wanted the best for me no matter how little the situation. Come to find out, I was adopted.. which I took pretty well if I do say so myself. But if you asked anyone else, they'd tell a completely different story. Like how I became more distant, and moody. But, come to think of it - who wouldn't? I was also, only six years old. Not many things made sense to me then, so I learned over time and came to accept who I was and appreciate the mother I had.
My small palms gripped around the edge of the desk, pulling myself and the chair closer to its surface and in arms length of the apple bowl I was targeting. The plastic bowl held a pile high of blood red apples; my mom always had a fresh pick of them every week. But since she's been gone, and nobody has done the chore for her, most of the apples were bruised and becoming a little more rotten by the day. I peered at they're shiny surfaces, and searched for the freshest and most edible apple I could spot. After moments of desperate and ravenous seeking, I finally found a cleanly smooth and delectable looking apple. I outstretched my arm, and grasped my fingers around the fruit, picking it up - careful not to tip over the rest of the apples. I gazed at it, and turned it in my hand a few times to examine its surface and make sure there was no bruising present. My mother especially knew how picky I was with my apples. They had to be perfect, or else I'd shun them off like a king and a peasant. I had done that ever since I was old enough to eat them.
Once I had successfully fulfilled my examination, and was completely satisfied, I began to lift the apple to my mouth. But before I could even dig my teeth into the surface, or even pierce through the skin a booming voice bounced off the walls and echoed into my ears.
"Hm. Red apples? I'm guessing you're the queen's son.. Henry, is it?" the voice was low, and intimidating. My gaze was still fixed on the shiny skin of the apple, with my mouth gaped open to receive the bite that I didn't take. I took my time lowering the fruit from my mouth, and lifting my stare to the tan entrance that was now wide open with a shadow residing in front of it. It was tall.. towering over me from across the room even. But soon did I figure out the shadow wasn't just a dark spotted corner in the room.. it was a person. My dark eyes fixated on the surface of their pale skin, and the two blue orbs that pierced through the dim lighting like flashlights. You'd think that I'd recognize the person, given that I had read the book from front to back multiple times in one day since MM had handed it to me. His hair stuck to his forehead, and curled at some ends around the foreign object on his head. Something moved, and I guessed it was his arm as it reached up to the entity above his head. He palm retracted and grasped onto the rim that stuck out and lifted it from his skull; it was a hat. It reduced his size it height drastically, and he no longer looked like a colossal giant that escaped a bean stalk.
"You don't remember my part of the story, kid?" He spoke again, and I watched skittishly as he began to take long and slow steps towards me and out of the shadows near the door. He took a step into the section of room that was being illuminated by the strung up lights above, directly in front of me. The lights let of a luster of glow and revealed his chiseled jawline, and hard features that gave him an menacing appearance. His left palm was clasped tightly around the rim of the oddly large top hat, that hid his full head of light brown hair. My anxious emotions vanished as I realized that I knew him from somewhere, he was... familiar. Those perturbed feelings were replaced with the sarcasm my mother gave me, and the pure 'joy' that another random stranger decided to show up not on my doorstep, but at my mother's office that was usually very difficult to get into. Wasn't that front door supposed to be locked?
"Oh great," I sighed, setting the apple onto the surface of the desk, "you're a fairy tale character, too.. aren't you?" It wasn't really a question on my part, it was more like a statement that I needed to be confirmed.
The man shot a grin at me, and lifted his head the slightest, "Smart kid."
"Which one are you?" I asked, this time it really was a query. Thinking back on it now, I should have known exactly who he was. If the ridiculously tall top hat, and crazy nature didn't give me a hint, nothing would. I blame it on the sudden shock, and being the fact that I was more focused on the situation of my mother and the funny woman named Emma than I was over another newcomer.
He seemed taken aback, and hurt that I didn't know who the man was. I couldn't blame him, I probably would've reacted the same way. "Little bit forward don't you think? But.. if you insist," his tone was very proper, yet sarcastic, "I.. am the mad hatter. Nevertheless, you can call me Jefferson," he bowed like he was in some sort of performance on stage. I furrowed my brow at his actions, he was very old-school and dressed like he was in some sort of 1960 soap opera.
"How do you know who I am?" I lowered my head, like I was nervous - but I was far from it. I had become used to people assuming who I was and what I was about. Because every time since my mother left, people knew me. Like recognized me, and gave me their full attention unlike before. It was like they were scared of her, and what she would do if they were caught speaking to me.
"I know a lot about you, Henry." He said it with truth, there was no glancing to the left or right, no stuttering or murmurs. He was like August, straight froward and full of knowledge that I had no clue how they obtained.
"It seems like a lot of people do.." I trailed off, letting the awkward silent begin to building a wall around us in the spacey office.
He cleared his throat after a while, and folded his hands behind his back, "So I heard you needed help making this town believe," my head shot up at his statement, "how would you like mine?" A devilish smirk revealed itself upon his lips, and I glared at him in shock.
"How do you know that?" I asked, squinting my eyes as if that would make me more intimidating than he, and getting my answers faster.
He completely ignored my question, and took a few more small trudges closer to the opposite side of the desk, "Because if you'd like my help.. I do have a few tricks up my sleeve." I saw his inner self chuckling with amusement at his own jokes. Ha-Ha, the mad hatter was really mad. I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes into the back of my head; why is it always the sarcastic jokers who show up knocking on my door?
"So how are you gonna help me?" I rose a brow, completely over his 'funny' act and groggy tone. How was I going to explain two random strangers to my mother? Let alone, one?
He took the last steps to close in the distance between the desk and himself. He leaned over, resting his folded arms on the surface and slightly tilting his head to the right, "A little bit of tricks.. maybe a pinch of.. magic," he seemed so sure of himself when he spoke.
"Magic?" I sighed, thinking that this man was completely unhinged from whatever frame he broke free from.
"What, you don't believe?" He asked, but it seemed like he was awaiting the chance to say it - like it was a million dollar question on a TV show. This time I ignored his question, and let him ramble on with whatever argument he thought he was winning, "C'mon, you're supposed to be the truest believer, Henry. Where are you?" I knit my brow together, immediately perplexed from his proclamation.
"What are you talking about?" I shook my head, scanning his bright blue eyes that stared deeply into mine.
"I imagined that it'd take a bit longer than expected.." he exhaled, and stood straight up like he was in the midst of being disappointed by my exclamation.
"Okay," I blinked a thousand times, trying to think of where I went wrong in the conversation, "I'm going to act like that wasn't an insult, and politely ask you, what?" I looked up at him, with a mix of displeasure and uncertainty.
"Even the truest believer isn't such a believer in the beginning, Henry." He tapped the top hat against his leg as if he were thinking, but quickly stopped and turned his attention back to me, "So. Do you want my help, or not?" The sass in his voice revealed to me that he was going to help me whether I liked it or not. And whether August liked it or not as well. August. How was I going to explain to him, that a darker, scarier, and more complex version of himself showed up for a visit?
Who knew a nine year old could get so dulled with fairy tales.