Chapter Forty-One: The Calm Before

Belle wrapped her arms around herself as she stared at her prison.

It wasn't a prison, she supposed. In fact, the four people crammed into this apartment all seemed perfectly nice, and truly concerned about her wellbeing. The sheriff had been a bit brusque, perhaps, but Belle hadn't taken it personally. Mary Margaret and David had both been solicitous to the extreme, and young Henry had bounced around her with an endearing amount of energy and enthusiasm.

But this place was not her home, and she hadn't been able to leave it since being discharged from the hospital. David had insisted that they were only trying to help her, and she believed him, but it was still lonely here. And she was still trapped inside their home, a stranger in the midst of things she didn't understand.

She rose from the bed and walked over to the window. Frost clung to the edges of the windowsill, and her breath fogged the glass pane. She wanted to wander the streets, wanted to see the town outside this bedroom prison. Mary Margaret had explained that it wasn't safe, and maybe it wasn't but…

But Belle was slowly going crazy stuck inside these suffocating walls.

Besides, how unsafe could the outside world be? From her spot at the window, Storybrooke certainly looked like a quiet, picturesque town.

"Belle?"

She spun around, startled. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, then she exhaled slowly and forced a tired smile. She started to form an excuse, "David. I was just…" but then stopped, wondering vaguely why she felt the need to lie. He had no right to condemn her for her unhappiness, and she didn't need to conceal her wishes from him.

David glanced at the window. "I know it's hard for you," he said sympathetically, "but we just… there aren't a lot of other options right now."

Belle raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "I lived here," she protested. She leaned backwards, resting her hands on the edge of the window. "I must have had a house, and a job, and money. Maybe I don't remember anything, but I want to go back to that anyway. I can't just…" She stopped, cutting off the words with a sharp shake of her head. "I can't stay here."

David nodded. He was still wearing that expression of sympathy, of compassion, but now it was tinged with something else. Pity. "The town is experiencing some… political unrest," he replied hesitantly. "It's not safe for you out there." There seemed to be more he wanted to say, and for a moment Belle thought he might continue. But he remained silent.

"I don't care," Belle said stubbornly. "I mean… was I even involved in any of what is happening?" The idea that she could have been involved in politics seemed absurd… but then maybe that was because she didn't have her memories. Maybe she had been involved. Maybe she was more than involved – maybe she was responsible. It seemed like a far-fetched idea, but David and Mary Margaret had been dancing around her questions and it wasn't like she knew enough about herself to rule out the possibility.

David frowned. "You were… tangentially… involved," he said finally.

Belle furrowed her brow. What did that mean?

She looked out the window again. "So there are people in the town who don't like me," she murmured tiredly, trying to wrap her head around the fact that people she didn't even remember might blame her for whatever was happening outside. "You can't possibly think that they would hurt me." When David didn't respond right away, she turned to look at him. "David?"

He shrugged. "I'm just trying to keep you safe," he said, a noncommittal response and a complete non-answer to her question.

Her frustration bubbled up, and then boiled over. "What good is safety if I go crazy?" she snapped. She curled her fingers into fists, so angry she could have lashed out. "I want to leave, David," she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. "I have agency, I have choice. And I want to leave."

"I know how you feel…"

"You don't!" Belle interrupted him, face flushing with emotion. She knew David had been through something similar, and hearing him talk about his experience had been helpful. It had made her feel a bit less alone, and more than that, it had given her hope. Because he had built a life for himself even before he'd gotten his memories back, and she wanted to believe that that might be possible for her, too.

But it wasn't the same.

She sucked in a breath, inhaling through her teeth, and she forced herself to speak in a calmer tone, "I know you lost your memory once, I know it was hard for you. But were you trapped inside someone else's apartment? Were you separated from everyone you might have once known?"

David didn't answer, and that was answer enough.

"I can't do this," Belle whispered. "I can't… I just can't stay here." She rubbed at her eyes, then ran her fingers through her hair. "Where did I used to live? And… did I have a job?"

"You lived in an apartment above the library," David answered reluctantly. He took a few steps further into the room, then sat down on the edge of the bed. "You ran the library." He smiled a bit wryly. "It doesn't get a lot of use, but I think you liked the job."

Belle accepted that in silence, pondering what it meant. Did she like books, then? She must, if she was a librarian. Or perhaps it had just been a job, something to pay the bills. But no, David had said she liked the job, and…

"Belle?"

She blinked, and then sighed. "I'm leaving, David," she said, and it wasn't a request.

"Well, this is all kinds of problematic," Emma grumbled as she pulled her hair into a ponytail and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was far more pale than usual, and there were dark circles under her eyes. How long had she looked like this?

"It will be fine," Mary Margaret said from her spot leaning against the bathroom doorframe.

Emma frowned, and met Mary Margaret's gaze in the mirror. "Really?" she asked skeptically. "Belle has no idea about magic."

"Neither does Sneezy," Mary Margaret replied pointedly, "and he's been fine."

Emma turned to face her. "Sneezy wasn't dating the Dark One," she countered. "Sneezy wasn't attacked by a one-handed pirate who wanted revenge against said Dark One." She shook her head, and brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her eyes. Had she failed basic ponytail skills?

Turning back to the mirror, she muttered under her breath, "And God only knows what Cora will do." She tapped her fingers on the edge of the sink, feeling anxious. "There has to be something more we can do."

"David already talked to Belle," Mary Margaret replied heavily. Emma knew that Mary Margaret, too, disliked the idea of letting Belle wander about unprotected, but she had clearly resigned herself to it. "She's not changing her mind."

"So we're just going to let her…"

"We can't stop her," Mary Margaret interrupted. She stepped into the bathroom and touched Emma's arm gently. "I know it is frustrating. But what would you have us do? Keep Belle a prisoner?" Emma didn't have an answer to that – though some part of her wanted to snap back that an unhappy Belle was still better than a dead Belle – and Mary Margaret continued, "I'll talk to Leroy. He can stop by to check in on Belle periodically. And Archie, too." She frowned thoughtfully, then added, "Actually, she probably should talk to Archie anyway. We don't know how long it will be until she gets her memories back, and he can help her work through everything she's feeling right now."

"Can't we do more?" Emma demanded. "I can put a barrier around the library and her apartment."

"To keep everyone out?" Mary Margaret asked softly. She shook her head with a faint smile. "Kind of defeats the purpose of having a library. Besides," she shrugged, "what happens when she tries to invite a friend over and they can't get through the invisible magical barrier she doesn't know anything about?"

Emma reached up and fiddled with her ponytail, then yanked the hair tie out of and tossed it onto the counter in frustration. Pressing her palms flat against the counter, she and closed her eyes and said, "I just hope we don't regret this."

"It is important that no one realizes what we are doing," Cora said. "Subtlety will be the key here."

George snorted. "Fine. I'll subtlety attack Emma Swan."

Cora stared at him for a long moment. Usually, her stares were enough to cower people, but George didn't even seem to notice that she was annoyed. He was almost giddy, pacing back and forth like some cartoonish villain.

She pursed her lips. She knew he was excited. He'd been denied vengeance for so long, and she had handed him the most tantalizing revenge he could imagine. He wanted to rush off right then, to attack Emma the moment she stepped out of her protected apartment.

But he wouldn't. George might not be the smartest of the men she had ever dealt with, but he was no fool. He knew how to be patient.

"Hook is going to keep an eye on the sheriff," Cora said. "He will determine how her personality is… shifting… and report back to me. We can use whatever he knows to guide our actions."

She frowned as she spoke, and tried not to worry. Unlike George, Hook wasn't patient. He was too rash, too impulsive. She'd used those character traits to her advantage once, delaying his revenge until he'd lost all common sense and gone after Belle on his own. She hadn't known exactly what he would do, and she hadn't really planned it – and those semantics had allowed her to ensure Belle was harmed without breaking her deal with Rumple.

But she couldn't afford to have Hook do something stupid now.

She'd need to keep an eye on him.

And Rumple… he, too, was presenting a problem. Although she took quite a bit of pleasure in the knowledge that he was in deep emotional pain, she was frustrated that he wasn't doing anything. She'd expected that the loss of Belle would push him over the edge. Instead, he'd withdrawn into his shop, avoiding everyone.

As much as she didn't like to admit it, she was willing to acknowledge her own weaknesses, and Rumple was a better chess master than she was. He'd proven that all those years ago when his potion had cost her everything. But his emotions blinded him – they always had, and that was how she'd managed to get out of their first contract. Love truly was a weakness, and he loved that mousy little librarian… and Cora had really expected that her loss would make him lash out.

She'd counted on it. She'd counted on him attacking her and breaking the deal. How could she hurt him if their deal prevented it?

She chewed her lip. This would require some more thought.

George finally stopped his pacing and took a seat on the sofa. "No one will think anything of it if I stir up trouble," he said. "We need to keep your role a secret, but if I start tempting Sheriff Swan into using her powers, everyone will just assume I'm trying to get to David."

Cora smiled. "Indeed," she agreed.

She hadn't wanted to show her vulnerabilities last night, but she'd needed to secure George's alliance, and that had required answering his questions. Speaking of the past was always humiliating, but the burning desire for revenge was something George could understand, and they'd both been wronged in the past.

Still, despite her initial qualms, she was optimistic. George was driven, single-minded in his plans, and clearly willing to put himself in harms way to get what he wanted. Those were all qualities that would serve her quite well.

Aloud, she said, "And I am sure you can manage to create some problems for the Charming family?"

George nodded, smirking.

Cora doubted that David or Mary Margaret – or even Emma – would realize what was happening. The fools didn't understand magic, as much as they relied on it. Even if they knew that she was working with George, encouraging his attacks on Emma, they still would not understand what she was doing until it was far too late to stop her.

But Regina might suspect. The Blue Fairy might suspect. Rumple certainly would suspect, would probably even know – but he wouldn't interfere. But even if Rumple was neutralized at the moment, the other magic users weren't, and Cora couldn't take the chance that they would discover her alliance with George and guess what she was doing.

She had to be subtle. She couldn't give away the game before she'd won.

"Charles is planning a trial for the werewolf," George said thoughtfully, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Cora raised an eyebrow, unsure why this was relevant, but gestured for him to continue. "The wolf is currently in hiding, so there is not much Charles can really do. But if Miss Lucas was found…" He looked up, met Cora's gaze with a gleam in his eye, "Miss Blanchard would not stand idly by and allow her friend to be imprisoned. And no doubt she would ask her daughter to help her."

Cora pursed her lips and glanced over her shoulder at the storybook on the table behind her. She knew the stories didn't tell the whole truth, and were biased to present the heroes as unmitigated Good, but she also knew the book wouldn't flat-out lie. And the book presented Snow and Charles as allies. Hadn't Snow and Charming helped Charles' daughter-in-law break her deal with the Dark One?

Although Rumple had certainly gotten the last laugh on that one.

Unsure, she switched her attention back to George and asked skeptically, "Do you really believe that Miss Blanchard and Sheriff Swan would attack Charles?"

George shook his head. "Charles? No, you are probably right that no matter how angry she is, virtuous Snow White won't attack her allies. Especially not the father-in-law of her beloved friend Ella," he said scathingly. "But Charles will hold a trial, and that will require witness and a jury. People Miss Blanchard doesn't know, doesn't care about… and people who will no doubt say some truly awful things about the wolf."

Cora nodded slowly, pleased with herself. Choosing George truly had been the right move, even if it meant revealing more than she had wanted.

"And you're the one who said that strong emotions would cause the Savior to act out of character," George continued, reasoning out his plan as he spoke. "Trust me, Charles and whatever jury he chooses will find the wolf guilty, and when he does…" George's eyes glittered. "We'd still need the wolf, though. And she's hiding somewhere in the woods, evading all attempts to find her."

Cora laughed softly. "Leave that one to me."

"Dr. Whale," Regina greeted coolly as she stepped into the office. Whale was sitting behind a desk overflowing with medical charts, his eyes fixed on the screen of the antiquated computer before him. He was frowning, and he gave her only a brief distracted look before turning back to the computer.

"Would have been nice if your curse had some provision about updating technology," he growled, typing a few quick, sharp keystrokes, and then throwing his hands up in the air in frustration when the screen froze.

Regina raised her eyebrows. "My apologies, dear," she drawled sarcastically.

Whale muttered something under his breath, and then picked up a medical chart and seemed to completely forget about her.

"What are you doing?" Regina asked, frustrated at being ignored.

Whale dropped the chart on top of the keyboard and stared at her. "My job," he said flatly. "What do you want, Regina?" His tone was curt, brusque, impatient. He'd been a sleaze underneath the curse, but she knew how driven he'd been before, and it was obvious that the drive was the stronger part of his personality.

Of course, his drive was also what had led him to lie to her about Daniel…

She inhaled deeply. She couldn't think about that now. She just needed to find out why he and Stefan had been meeting, and then she could leave. They didn't need to engage in conversation, didn't need to reopen old wounds.

Even after all this time, Daniel's death was still too fresh, too raw.

"You spoke to Stefan," Regina said.

"Steve Rose," Whale corrected. Regina arched an eyebrow, and he elaborated, "His name, under the curse. Steven, abbreviated to Steve." He rolled his eyes. "Not particularly different from Stefan. What, did your curse just get bored?"

"Did you know him?" Regina asked, surprised. She had no idea how the Curse assigned names, although somehow she doubted a powerfully magical spell had gotten bored. But more interesting – and concerning – was the fact that Whale knew Stefan well enough to know who he had been under her curse.

Regina was surprised he knew anyone who wasn't female.

Whale shrugged carelessly. He leaned back in his chair and studied Regina intently, as though just then realizing that Regina was trying to get answers from him. "Why do you care?"

"I know you've been meeting with him," Regina accused sharply. She walked into the room and glanced distastefully at the chair opposite Whale. It was covered with medical files and printouts of articles. Shifting them onto the floor, she sat down and crossed her ankles, running a hand over her expensive grey skirt.

She might not want to be here, but she wasn't leaving without answers.

"He stopped by a few times," Whale replied, shrugging once more. His eyes darted to the computer screen, a slight frown appearing between his brows., and he shifted the medical chart off the keyboard and rested his fingers on the keys.

He was avoiding Regina's gaze.

"Why?"

"I don't know – nothing important," Whale replied vaguely, as though he was no longer paying attention. Regina wasn't sure if he'd actually stopped caring about her presence or if he was merely pretending, but either way it annoyed her.

She pursed her lips.

"Really?" she asked sarcastically. "Stefan took time out of plotting to take over the town so you two could chat?"

Whale paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. For a moment, Regina thought he wouldn't respond. But then he looked up at her, one eyebrow raised, and replied, "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes."

Whale shrugged artlessly. "I don't know what you want me to say, Regina," he replied. "Whatever information you are looking for, I assure you, I don't have it."

Regina leaned forward. "Don't play dumb," she said, her voice dangerously soft.

Whale just smirked.

Regina swallowed back the bitterness that rose in her throat. She wanted to lash out at him, want to slap that smug expression off his face. She could have – probably should have – asked David to talk to Whale. Of course, that would have required telling David where she'd gotten the information, and she doubted that admitting she was interacting with her old knights would go over well. Even if she wasn't asking them to do anything the heroes would disapprove of. And even if their loyalty was suspect.

Still… as much as the idea of willingly opening herself up to the Charming family galled her, it might have been worth it to avoid this.

"Just tell me," she hissed.

"There's nothing to tell," Whale replied in a patronizing tone. "Honest."

Regina snorted. "Why should I trust you?"

Whale's smile faltered for a moment, but then he countered pointedly, "If you're not going to trust anything I say, why did you come here?"

"Oh, such a good question," Regina muttered under her breath.

"You know," Whale said, sifting through a pile of charts, "not all of us subscribe to your ideas about royalty." He found the chart he was evidently looking for, and flipped it open. Perusing what appeared to be a checklist of medical tests, he said dismissively, "You can threaten and coerce and whatever else you want, but you aren't my queen. I don't owe loyalty to any of you."

"And yet you're siding with Stefan," Regina shot back. He did owe her something – an explanation. An explanation for what he had done, for why he had done it. But that was not a conversation she was ready to have quite yet, and so she continued to skirt the issue.

"I'm not siding with anyone," Whale said wearily, impatiently. "Although, even if I did, you don't have any right to demand I side with you, instead. Like I said, I don't owe any of you anything." He rubbed at his eyes, and it was then that Regina saw what she had somehow missed before – his eyes were bloodshot and his skin was tinged with gray. She hadn't noticed that, hadn't noticed how haggard he looked.

He looked as rundown as she felt.

"Stefan will destroy this town," Regina said.

Whale's eyes moved around the room once, as though taking in the sight of his overcrowded office. But his gaze was unfocused, distant. "I don't really care," he said bluntly. Turning his attention fully to Regina, he added, "And I doubt Stefan would do much damage at all if your step-daughter and her precious family didn't insist on fighting him."

Regina shook her head in irritation.

The problem, of course, was that Whale was right. The current unrest in the town could almost entirely be traced back to the disagreements between the different factions. If all the royalty banded together, supported each other… well, that would never happen. But Stefan and Leah probably wouldn't do any damage to the town if Mary Margaret and David rolled over and let them lead. Another thing that would never happen – the two idiots were far too stubborn to give in so easily, particularly not when they were convinced that they were doing the right thing.

Besides, with George throwing around his past grievances and everyone blaming Ruby Lucas for Maurice's death, it was unlikely peace could be reached without some amount of sacrifice, and Mary Margaret would never sacrifice the wolf.

And, of course, Cora would never let there be peace.

But Regina was unwilling to ignore Whale's actions. He had been meeting with Stefan, and that meant he had picked a side.

"You don't want to be my enemy," Regina said finally, issuing the threat with a decisive shake of her head. She gestured around the crowded office. "Haven't I already shown what I am willing to do to my enemies?"

Whale lurched suddenly to his feet. Steadying himself with one hand on the desk, he ordered in a tight voice, "Get out."

The change in his demeanor was so unexpected, so abrupt, that Regina automatically rose to her feet before she'd fully processed his anger. She thought about staying, about arguing further, about issuing for more threats if she had to, but she could already tell it wouldn't be successful. It was like talking to a wall, and she couldn't go another round with him.

Maybe she'd have to ask David for help after all.

And wasn't that just a wonderful thought?

At the door, she paused and looked back at Whale. "Were you happy, under my curse?"

Whale was obviously surprised by the question. She was surprised as well – she hadn't meant to ask it, but the conversation with Sidney had stayed in her mind, and she couldn't stop wondering if the curse had rewarded anyone else.

Whale curled his lip. "No."

She nodded slowly. "Good," she said, and left the office.

Rumple ran his fingers over the potion vial, watching as the light played across the glass.

Emma Swan was back.

The circumstances around her return were surprising, to say the least. He'd always known that the Savior would have power, but it had never occurred to him that she'd be powerful enough to cross realms by the force of her will alone. He wasn't sure what to think of that, wasn't sure if he should be concerned.

He needed her.

She could help him find his son. It was the entire reason he had allowed her to make the deal for Ashley – Ella's – baby. From the moment he had discovered that she had a talent for finding people, he had known that she would be the one to find his Baelfire.

But would she help him? She owed him a favor, and he knew he could demand it whenever he chose. She would want to keep her promise, to show that she didn't renege on her deals. But with Cora in town, she might not agree to do it now. Her family was in danger, and she would not abandon them.

Could he wait? Did he have time? He had no idea what Cora was planning, but he knew how much she hated Eva, how much she had longed to destroy the other woman, to tear apart everything Eva had ever loved. Eva was dead, but her daughter wasn't. And if anything happened to Mary Margaret…

He doubted Emma would help him then.

A grief-stricken prince Charming and an enraged Savior would not be inclined to forgive those who hurt them.

Which Rumple didn't particularly care about. He had no plans to grieve over Cora's eventual demise – assuming she was defeated – and he doubted he would even notice if most of the town was killed. It wasn't that he wanted them to be hurt; he didn't have strong feelings about the townspeople either way, although on the whole he was against pointless death. But even if he didn't actively wish them ill, he would not hesitate to sacrifice them if it helped him protect his son and Belle.

But… if the town fell apart, where would he take Bae? This was the only place with magic; they had to come back here. His deal with Cora would protect Bae – and Belle – from her, but not necessarily from anyone else. Could he really risk bringing his son here if the town was in the middle of a war?

Cora had to be stopped.

But he couldn't stop her without breaking the deal, and doing that would endanger Belle.

He rubbed at his eyes. Why couldn't Belle have just understood? Why did she have to insist that he help the town, that he take off that pendant? He was so close to finding his son, so close to finally fixing the mistake he had made centuries ago, and she wanted him to risk all of it for people he didn't know, didn't like – and people who certainly didn't like him?

The door to the shop opened, the bell above the entrance alerting him to a customer. He quickly wrapped the potion in Bae's old scarf and tucked it away in the safe, then stepped out of the backroom with a frown fixed on his face. He rarely had customers these days, for which he was really quite grateful. He didn't like the distractions those fools so often brought to him.

Who had disrupted his quiet this time?

It was Leroy.

Rumple fought back his annoyance, and the overwhelming desire to turn the dwarf into a snail. He was an antisocial, irritable, and petulant drunk who had idiotically allowed himself to fall for a fairy of all people, and, like Snow White and Prince Charming, he seemed to believe that the entire world revolved around his life.

Or, at least, he had before Regina's curse had turned him into a hospital janitor.

"I'm here to warn you, Dark One," Leroy threatened gruffly, speaking before Rumple could inquire about his presence.

"Warn me?" Rumple repeated, an amused smile tugging away his frown. He could have laughed aloud at the absurdity of that statement, but decided instead to play along. "Against what?"

"Stay away from Belle," Leroy growled. He took a step forward, his hands balled into fists at his side. "She made it clear that she doesn't want nothing to do with you. She might not remember that now, but we're not going to let you use her amnesia against her."

"How exactly do you plan on stopping me, dearie?" Rumple challenged, his amusement growing at the sight of Leroy's self-righteous anger.

In truth, he hadn't planned on going after Belle. Well, he had thought about it – but had eventually dismissed the idea. It had been tempting. Without her memory, Belle wouldn't know that she hated him, that she had left him. He had been given a second chance with her… but he was too much of a coward to take it.

What if she rejected him again?

What if pursuing her got in the way of finding Baelfire?

Leroy folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his gaze into an aggressive glare. "Snow and Charming locked you up once," he said bitingly. "They can do it again."

Rumple smiled serenely. "Snow and her prince put me exactly where I wanted to be," he replied in a sing-song voice, marveling at how that simple change in tone made Leroy start, made the dwarf momentarily stiffen in fear.

Leroy looked taken aback, but his hostile expression did not falter. "Yeah, well… we got the Blue Fairy and the Savior and… hell, we've got the Evil Queen on our side. You think you can take all of them?"

Rumple had no doubt that, if necessary, he could take Regina without too much trouble, though he would get no pleasure from that. He would get pleasure from taking on the Blue Fairy and any of her insufferable followers, and any damage they inflicted on him would be completely worth it if it meant hurting the fairies. But the Savior…

Rumple still didn't know the full extent of Emma's powers, but he had an inkling they might surpass even his own.

And she wasn't tied to the dagger.

Misinterpreting his silence for fear, Leroy said scathingly, "Guess you aren't as strong as you thought."

"Interesting theory," Rumple mused, raising his hands in a calmly threatening manner. "Would you care to test it, dearie?"

Leroy took several hasty steps backwards, eyes widening comically. But he didn't leave, and he didn't back down. "You stay away from Belle, Dark One," he said, scowling. "I mean it."

Rumple sighed. Leroy probably thought he was being brave. Facing down someone so powerful, so dangerous, in an attempt to protect his friend. It was the sort of behavior that he had always expected from Snow and Charming, and clearly it had rubbed off on their friends.

Strange, wasn't it, how they never seemed to be able to tell the difference between bravery and stupidity?

"I'll do what I want, dwarf," he said flatly, "and you can't stop me."

"We'll find a way!" Leroy shot back furiously, but Rumple had already turned once more towards his backroom, and didn't bother to answer.

She didn't really mind the woods.

Under the curse, Ruby had hated them. She'd hated the bugs and the dirt and the pine needles that clung to her clothing and lodged themselves in her socks. She'd hated a lot of things, most of them aspects of the wild and the night.

Ruby lay on her back and stared up at the night sky. She could just barely see the stars through a clearing in the densely packed branches. She could smell crushed grass and moss, and hear the gurgling of a half-frozen stream. The night air was cold, but she was wrapped in several layers and a blanket her grandmother had given her, and she felt alive.

Granny had wanted her to stay indoors. She knew Regina had been planning on putting a protection spell around Mary Margaret's apartment, and Granny had argued that there was no reason they couldn't do something similar for Ruby. It would keep her safe from George and all the other people who wanted her dead, and safe from Cora.

But Ruby had refused. The warmth of indoors and the thought of being able to eat her grandmother's cooking instead of scavenging for food in the woods in the middle of a Maine winter were admittedly enticing, but she'd survived worse than this.

And she would not be locked up again. The wolf inside of her would not be able to stand it.

She'd gone stir crazy in that cell. Even with Mary Margaret there to reassure her, she hadn't been able to bear it. She needed to be free.

She needed to run.

It was hard, though. Hiding in the woods. She wanted to be in the middle of things, helping Mary Margaret and David, fighting Cora, protecting the people that she loved. She hated being so helpless.

Something shifted in the air around her. The scents changed, the wind shifted. She tensed and rolled to her side, ready to fight, ready to flee.

Somewhere in the darkness, a foot touched the ground, snapping a small twig. A shoe scuffed against a fallen tree trunk, clothing caught on the thorns of a blackberry bush.

Ruby rose to a crouch, her keen gaze piercing through the darkness. She scanned the woods, hunting.