Chapter Eighty-Six—"Frozen"
The neighbors somehow overlooked the ice-filled hallway for an hour, probably because Sir Frederick had been Graham's closest neighbor and most everyone else was still concentrating on keeping their heads down so that Cora didn't notice them. The majority of the residents on Graham's floor knew what he had been and suspected that he was on the outs with Cora, which meant they avoided him desperately, lest some of her displeasure spill over on them. That was hardly kind, but it was how frightened people reacted, and Storybrooke was running scared.
That meant Emma didn't get the call until almost noon on the 11th of March, right after she and Neal finished up an early lunch at Granny's with Henry. For a first meeting, it hadn't gone too badly; Henry was full of questions and Neal was fascinated by the kid, which Emma figured was a good enough start. So, she looked at the two of them regretfully once she hung up her phone.
"I've got to go," she sighed. "Something's happened over at Seafair Apartments."
"I can tag along to help if you want," Neal said immediately, but it was Henry's shining and intrigued eyes that worried Emma. No way was she taking a ten year old along for police work.
"Nah, it shouldn't take long," she said, making a mental note to call David for backup. Her dad was good in a pinch, and he had told her to give him a call if she needed help. "Why don't you take Henry for ice cream or something?"
So, the heroes wanted to rescue Regina. How…unsurprising.
Looking down at her daughter's sleeping form, Cora pursed her lips thoughtfully. She had expected Snow to want to go after Regina, but she had to admit that she hadn't anticipated Regina's little boy-toy proving helpful on that front. How had the obnoxious outlaw found out where Regina was? She supposed one of her allies might have said something, or the outlaw might have just managed to spy the truth out for himself. It hardly mattered. What mattered was that Regina was secure and asleep, and she had already forced Rumple to create wards around her to keep any of her so-called 'family' out.
Sighing, Cora brushed hair away from Regina's pale cheeks. She hated to do this to her daughter, but Regina had been so determined to cross her. Regina was safer like this, and Cora would make sure she was awoken when necessary. Still, the sooner she dealt with the entire nauseating 'Charming' clan, the sooner she could wake her daughter up, so Cora decided she really should push her plans forward. I could start with the damn boy, she thought, her eyes still on Regina's face. If Regina woke up to find Henry dead, her mother and her sister would be her only family. She would be heartbroken, but eventually Regina would bury herself in the family she had, wanting to be loved.
But Henry wasn't the problem. Oh, she could send Rumplestiltskin after him—a ten-year-old would be no match for the Dark One, no matter what bloodline he came from—but Cora might still need him. Henry was the easiest way to wake Regina, short of putting her own heart back in. So, she would concentrate on Snow, her daughter, and her annoying husband. Then Henry would belong to no one but Regina, and Regina would be grateful for that once Cora had the boy wake her.
Yes, that was definitely the best option. It did, however, mean that Cora would have to find one more way to strike fear into the hearts of Storybrooke's citizens, for she wanted them terrified and not thinking straight, wanted them to understand that the reign of terror would not end until they gracefully and gratefully accepted Cora's rule. She had already given Jabber a new target (not that the fear creature was properly grateful, but Cora still struggled to find a way to cow her). Now, she would have to send the Dark One after someone who was not Regina.
"Rumple," she cooed, turning to the man who had stood silently behind her, his dark eyes unreadable to someone who did not know him so well. She could see the fear and the pain lurking in the depths, though, and it was so very sweet.
"What now?" he growled, but recoiled ever so slightly as she reached out to stroke his face.
Oh, this kind of power had no equal. She didn't need his love so long as he feared her.
"I remember your old hobby of killing fairies," Cora smiled. "I would like you to revisit that."
He should have been grateful, but instead he was surly. "And do what, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin drawled, clearly trying to sound like he was in control of the situation.
Be more specific, he had told her last time, when Cora had wanted a massacre but not explicitly ordered one. She would not forget that, amused though she was by his posturing. "I want you to go to the convent and kill as many fairies as you can. Destroy the convent if you can, or at least damage it," she ordered, running her fingers over the dagger and watching him twitch. "But don't stay too long. If they look likely to trap you, leave."
For all she knew, Rumple might prefer a cage constructed by the fairies to hers at the moment, so Cora was not taking the chances. Really, though, given the way he felt about fairies, this should be a treat for him, and she waited to watch the bloodlust fill his eyes, waited to see the old Rumplestiltskin peeking out. But nothing happened. He just stood stock-still and met her eyes angrily.
"Fine," her old lover spat, and Cora barely resisted the urge to punish him for his impertinence.
She could do that later.
The idea of bringing her dad along as a ride along was really weird, but so was the idea of her father being the same age as her, so Emma just kind of went with the flow. Besides, David was smart and knew just about everyone in Storybrooke—and they respected him because he was Prince Charming. Her parents had beaten Cora before, and everyone was counting on doing that again. Snow was busy making rounds to reassure people and keep them from trying to flee across the town line (Emma had reports of three new monkeys just since this morning, and that really didn't help matters), but David hopped into the bug with her and they headed out to Graham's place.
"I should have checked on him after the curse broke," Emma fretted, her hands tight on the wheel as she worried about the last guy she'd started having feelings for.
"You've been busy," David said gently, but Emma just shook her head.
"I should have made time."
"You can't do everything, Emma. Graham would have let us know if he needed help—we've known him a long time, your mother and I."
Turning to glare at him briefly, Emma snarled: "That doesn't make it better! Graham's in a wheelchair because Cora didn't like him dating me, and I'm not going to forgive myself for leaving him alone."
"I'm not saying you should," her father replied. "But maybe you're being a bit hard on yourself."
"Or not hard enough," she muttered, pulling the bug into an empty parking spot in front of the Seafair Apartment Complex. The call she'd gotten had said something about ice filling hallway and the phones being out, but she really hoped that it was just some stupid kids pulling a prank with giant bags of ice cubes. Emma really couldn't imagine what else it could be, but she still drew her gun as she got out of the car. David, she noticed, had his sword in hand. As surreal as that was, Emma figured it was a pretty good idea. After all, she'd already run into a few creatures who shrugged off being shot like she would have ignored a rain of marshmallows.
"Is there something else going on, Emma?" David asked as they headed into the complex. "You seem awfully on edge."
Yeah, like my ex-boyfriend is Henry's father, and by the way, he freakin' proposed to me because it would supposedly keep us all safe, Emma stopped herself from saying. She had to figure out how she felt about this mess before she told her parents about Neal. Or Baelfire. Whatever he called himself these days. Either way, she really didn't have time for romance.
"Aside from Cora killing one of the dwarves, the town hall still being in pieces, and half of Storybrooke lining up outside Archie's office for counseling? Life's grand," she snorted, leading the way around a corner—and stopping cold.
Whatever David had been planning to say sputtered out as they encountered a giant wall of ice spilling out of where Graham's apartment door should have been. There was a puddle forming on the floor, running along the hallway like a river, but the bulk of the ice wall was still several feet thick and blocking Graham's entire doorway. The door seemed to be open—and pinned to the wall by the ice—but there was no way in.
"Graham?" Emma called, stepping up close to the ice and slipping so quickly that David had to catch her. "Graham!"
There was no answer, but David was already pulling out his cell phone.
"Hey, Leroy? It's David. We need you and your brothers down at Graham's apartment with pickaxes, as quickly as you can get here. The place is blocked off by a wall of ice, but he might be alive inside."
Meanwhile, Emma rushed outside to check the windows, but they were iced over, too, with a foot wide barrier that even her gunshots could not breach.
The convent was coming down around her.
Tink had moved into a small room here because there was literally nowhere else to go, but now she was starting to think that was really bad idea.
"Come on!" Desperately, she reached out to grab Astrid, pulling the younger fairy along with her towards the only way out that didn't look likely to kill them.
"But Blue is gathering everyone near the dining room to try to fight—" Astrid tried to argue.
"We can't get there without dying!" Tink cut her off in a hiss. "The Dark One is just around that corner, and Rose, Silver, and Lavender are already dead, and I am not going to add us to that number! We have to get away and get help."
Astrid's eyes were huge and pleading. "But who can help us against him? With the Evil Queen controlling him, no one can make him stop."
"I know," Tink replied tightly, pulling Astrid down a little used passageway that led to the gardens. She'd discovered that her first night here because Tink hadn't liked the tiny, sparse accommodations of the convent—they'd reminded her too much of the Basement, just without the same old feeling of solidarity. So, she'd spent a lot of nights in the back gardens, just staring up at the stars and missing the ability to fly.
"But we can't even fly away," her young companion worried as they squeezed out into the gardens. The front section of the convent was already collapsing, with stones, plaster, and wooden roofing creaking and smashing together. The back half couldn't be far behind, and Tink could hear the faint cries of their sisters as they tried to unite and fight the Dark One.
"I can hotwire a car," she said without thinking. Mirabella could, anyway, and Tink supposed that she still remembered how. It was an odd thought, but there were a few cars around the convent, so stealing one of those was probably a good idea.
We have to get help, she told herself firmly. Part of her wanted to jump back into the fight, to try to save everyone she could, but twenty-eight years in the Basement had erased Tinker Bell's idealism. No, the best way they could help their sisters was to get out of here. If they dove back in, she and Astrid would die. Blue would save those she could. It was now Tink's job to let the rest of Storybrooke know that the fairies were in danger.
Spying an old red convertible, Tink pulled Astrid into a jog and headed that way. The convent wasn't that far from the hospital, and the hospital had phones to call for help.
He felt dirty.
Killing fairies had once been one of Rumplestiltskin's favorite past times, but now he just felt terrible. He'd never like fairies, of course—he hated most of them, particularly Blue and her more fanatical sisters—but Rumplestiltskin did not appreciate becoming someone else's tool. Cora's violence had no purpose. She wanted to cause fear, not to kill someone because they deserved death. While Rumplestiltskin had never been particularly squeamish, he didn't particularly enjoy killing, either, particularly when there was no reason to kill them. Most of these fairies were unimportant, and some of them were even the types who had tried to do the right thing more than once.
He'd seen Grumpy's True Love slipping off with Tinker Bell, and he'd let them go. Tink had once tried to help Regina, and the visions that slipped through his battered mind indicated she might be important. Cora hadn't specifically ordered him to kill every fairy he saw, so Rumplestiltskin ignored them. He'd already killed three fairies in quick succession and then took another out even as Blue tried to save her, collapsing the roof and lighting two of the walls on fire. Blue was quick, though, and smarter than Rumplestiltskin usually wanted to give her credit for being, gathering the other fairies together for mutual defense. Don't take too long, Cora had said, and that gave him a way out. So, he took it—and noticed the fact that Cora hadn't demanded he return immediately after, either.
So Rumplestiltskin went home.
Gabi usually went down for a nap right after lunch, which both meant he wouldn't have to explain things to his daughter and that Belle would probably be home. It had only been five days, yet he felt like an eternity had passed, and he needed Belle. He also needed to check on Baelfire, to make sure both of his children were all right. Cora hadn't him near his family, or even given him any news on them. Rumplestiltskin didn't think that Cora was stupid enough to break the contract thisearly (though he was counting on her doing that before too long), so he was relatively certain that neither Cora nor her more independent allies had tried to harm those he loved…but he still needed to be sure.
Just to be safe, he teleported himself into their bedroom, knowing that if Belle had company, it wouldn't be here. He was too much of a coward to face Gabi if she was awake, but he burned to see his wife. His True Love. And a part of him wondered, full of desperation and terror, if a kiss from Belle might just free him from Cora's control.
Of course, doing that would leave him powerless, but he might still be able to use magic. And that damn dagger would never be able to control him again. That thought was perhaps the sweetest he had had in a long time, and Rumplestiltskin's heart started to pound when he considered that he really and truly could free himself from the darkness forever. Part of him was terrified to do so, but if it meant never being forced into Cora's bed again, never having the curse inside him warp his own mind and body to its own ends…he could live with that. He really could. Blinking, he stared at the book in his hands; Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure when he'd started cradling Belle's favorite book, but sure enough, Her Handsome Hero was clutched desperately in his hands. She always left it on or in the nightstand, and he knew his wife clung to that book when times got tough.
Sucking in a deep breath, Rumplestiltskin put the book back down on the bed, lying against Belle's pillows. He could do this. He had plenty of magical objects he could draw on, and three hundred years of study and knowledge. That would be enough to take Cora out, and he had once promised Belle that he would only hold onto the power as long as it took to find his son, hadn't he? He'd found Bae, and that meant everything. So, Rumplestiltskin squared his shoulders and headed towards the bedroom door, promising himself to head downstairs and kiss his True Love like his life depended on it before his cowardice could get the better of him.
He'd reached the top of the stairs before he heard voices he recognized: Dove and Babette. There was only one reason why that pair would be in his house, and Rumplestiltskin's heart plummeted. Belle's not home, he realized brokenly. They're here to babysit Gabi.
Then where could Belle be? He could check the shop, the library, or maybe Granny's. He could do a quick locator spell to find her—the ingredients were in his shop and Rumplestiltskin could slap a locator spell together in less than a minute. And he would. He wouldn't chicken out. He'd go to the shop, put the spell together, find Belle, kiss—
The summons burned into his mind before he could even leave his home, and by the time Rumplestiltskin's vision cleared, he was on his knees at Cora's feet.
Grumpy, Sleepy, and Happy showed up within five minutes of David's call—they must have been close by, but Emma didn't ask. She just watched as David directed the threesome to start hacking away with their pick axes at the ice wall. He'd already tried the same thing with his sword and had almost broken the blade, but dwarf axes were enchanted to be unbreakable. Given that they were going after an obviously magical ice wall, Emma figured they were the best bet Graham had.
On the bright side, Emma thought she'd heard a voice from inside the apartment answering her shouts, but she couldn't be sure. And pacing wildly really wasn't helping.
"Who the hell has ice magic, anyway?" she asked David, figuring that he'd know. Or Henry might, but she really didn't want to bring a ten year old into this.
Henry adored Graham. She wasn't going to expose him to Graham's potential death until absolutely necessary, which would hopefully be never. So, Emma turned to her father and tried to ignore the way her heart clenched. She'd never quite fallen in love with Graham, but she liked him, and he was still her friend. Emma knew that most of the boneheaded stuff he'd said to her had to be Cora's fault, and she didn't blame him for that.
"I have no idea," David answered, watching the dwarves at work. Their axes hadn't broken, but breaking through the wall was a seriously slow process.
Too slow. Emma needed to talk to someone who had magical knowledge, and she'd never remembered to save Belle's number in her phone. But there definitely was a number she did have, and well, if she couldn't call the Dark One's wife, she'd call his son.
Henry really was a great kid. One lunch and a trip for ice cream afterwards had shown Bae that, and he already hated himself for not knowing that Emma was pregnant when he stupidly let her take the fall for watches he had stolen. The fact that she'd gotten a lot less jail time than he had was immaterial; Bae should have been the one to suffer for the crime he committed. Instead, he'd run like a coward at the first mention of the Enchanted Forest and magic, when it turned out that he really had nothing to be afraid of.
But I can make it up to both of them, he told himself. Or spend the rest of my life trying, anyway.
"Take a look at this!" Henry broke into his thoughts, flipping pages in the Book to show the story of 'The Spinner and his Son'. The artwork on the first page of it was surprisingly good for a watercolor, and for a moment, Bae was taken back three centuries to a life that had been so much more simple than the one he now lived. "Did you really look like that?"
"Well, I had a bit more facial definition," Bae joked, and Henry grinned.
"This is so cool. I always thought you were just some deadbeat who broke Emma's heart, not someone out of the Book," his kid said, and the innocent words made his heart clench.
"I did break her heart," he admitted. "But I'm going to try to make up for that."
"Are you two going to get back together?"
"Don't you think that's a little fast? I'll stick with being her friend, first," he said, thinking: Even if I did ask her to marry me already. Man, I know why she hesitated. We can explain to Henry all day long that it's just to keep people safe, but what he'll see is his parents getting married.
Bae felt like such a jerk, particularly when Henry beamed at him.
"You'll get back together. I know it. She still likes you a lot."
"Does she?" Bae couldn't stop himself from asking.
"Yeah. She sucks at hiding things like that," Henry grinned, and then glanced over Bae's shoulder as the woman who owned the ice cream shoppe headed into the back. "Do you think Miss Fisher is acting funny? I don't know who she's supposed to be, but she keeps looking at me like she's waiting for something to happen."
As a matter of fact, Bae had noticed that look, but he'd written his suspicions off as first-time parent jitters and the fact that most shop owners were probably waiting for kids to make a mess. "Yeah, kind of. You sure she's not in your book?"
"Positive. I know it from cover to cover."
"Well, in that case maybe we should—" 'Charley's Girl' suddenly cut him off, belting out of his phone like it was made for the situation, and Bae grabbed his iPhone, answering it on speaker. "Hey, Emma."
Henry gave him a knowing grin, but Bae hardly noticed. Emma sounded worried.
"Hey, do you know anything about ice magic?"
"Um…not really. I mean, it exists, and it's seriously scary stuff, but I've never seen it in person. I heard Disney's going to make a movie about some ice queen. Does that help?"
"Not really. Graham's apartment has an ice wall around it, and we're trying to get in, but I want to know who the hell did this," his ex-girlfriend snarled, but he could tell her anger wasn't directed at him.
"I can ask Belle if she knows anything," Bae volunteered, not bothering to ask who Graham was. That didn't matter right now.
"Please do. We've got to get him out of here before it's too late."
Emma hung up, but Henry was looking at Bae with wide eyes. "Someone froze Graham in?" the ten year old asked. "But…but…"
"I'm sure Emma will get him out in time," he said quickly, feeling utterly out of his depth when it came to comforting a child. It took a lot of patience, really careful word choice, and even then doing so was hit and miss. Bae tried his best, but while he was doing so, he never noticed the woman behind the counter who had also listened to his phone call.
Emma was worried about Graham. The pain in her voice was obvious, and it made Ingrid feel horrible. Freeze him in, Cora had ordered, her heart gripped tightly in Ingrid's hand. And then the Evil Queen had watched, holding Ingrid's heart and forcing her to keep Graham from escaping. She'd admired his courage, wishing she had the strength to stand up to Cora like that, but she'd killed him instead of trying to do the same. I couldn't, Ingrid told herself guiltily. Cora had my heart in her hand. I was a puppet. Still, she could tell herself all day long that it wasn't her fault, that it was all Cora's doing…but that had still been her magic.
Cora wasn't watching her now, though, was she? Emma's son and—if she had heard right—the boy's biological father were heading out of the shop, but they wouldn't be able to help. Ingrid knew that…but she could.
All it took was a flick of her fingers, one no one could see, and the ice wall dropped.
I hope you're still alive, she thought towards the former sheriff, who had always been kind to her and whose favorite flavor of ice cream was strawberry. Help is coming.
Just like that, the ice vanished, and Emma rushed through the doorway with David and the dwarves right on her heels.
"Graham? Graham!"
"Here," a weak voice said from the living room, and Emma slid into the room—there was frigid water covering the floor—to find Graham huddled up in a blanket and shivering.
"Let's get you out of here," she said quickly, reaching out to grab the handles of his wheelchair and hissing in surprise. "Damn, that's cold."
"Yeah, so am I," Graham managed to smile at her, and Emma sucked her hands into her sleeves to wheel him out.
"Not for much longer," she promised.
"Leroy, call Doc," David said crisply as he and the dwarves cleared out of the way for Emma to wheel Graham out. The best place she could think of taking Graham was her car; she could turn the heat up and get him to the hospital fastest that way, even David had to cram into the back or ride in Leroy's van.
"Why Doc?" Happy asked curiously, even as Leroy dialed. "The hospital—"
"Whale's still a monkey, remember?" Grumpy snapped rather grumpily. "No way are we trusting Graham to that crazy cranky nurse from the asylum, and who knows who the rest of the staff actually is? Doc knows what he's doing."
Doc agreed to meet them at the hospital, and Emma did her damnedest to break the sound barrier on the way there. Within fifteen minutes, they had Graham in a bed, surrounded by heating pads and blankets.
Then she and David started to talk about how they could keep Graham hidden so that Cora thought he was dead. In the end, they settled on a fake gravestone and hiding Graham away in the asylum—not the nicest place, for sure, but Doc could keep an eye on him down there, and it would make Cora believe he was really dead. Maybe once Regina was awake, or once they stole Graham's heart from Cora, they could come up with a more comfortable arrangement, but for now they just wanted to keep Cora from crushing Graham's heart when she found out he escaped.
The red convertible almost ran him over as Killian headed from the Jolly Roger to the marina, and he threw himself out of the way to avoid getting flattened. A girlish yelp came from inside as breaks screeched, slamming the old Corvette to a stop. Getting to his feet and brushing himself off, Killian opened his mouth to yell at the irresponsible driver, but the words died unsaid.
"Tink?" he gaped, watching a familiar form climb out of the car.
"Killian! Please, you've got to help. The Dark One is attacking the convent."
"Attacking?" he repeated.
"Killing fairies," the other woman said, tripping on her way out of the car. "I'm Astrid."
"Killian Jones," he answered automatically.
Astrid blinked. "How weird is that? You have the same cursed first name as your real name?"
Killian and Tink both ignored her, though, and Tink continued briskly. "I know you don't want to cross Cora, but people are dying. Good people. She keeps killing and killing, and when will it stop?"
"Never, if she has her way," Killian said quietly. He had nothing against fairies—and he was rather…fond of Tink. Maybe even in love with her. And Cora had sent the Dark One after this woman he loved, too. He had waited three centuries to find love again after the Dark One had killed his Milah, and now history was trying to repeat itself.
Maybe there's a lesson in this, the long-ignored voice of his conscience said. Revenge doesn't get you a happy ending. Darkness doesn't find happiness. Killian shivered, thinking back on the man he'd been so very long ago. He'd been a good man, once. A man who wouldn't think twice when the woman he loved asked him to save lives. I want to be that man again.
"All right, love," he spoke briskly, getting the words out before he could stop himself. "Let's see what we can't do to save your friends."
"I knew I could count on you!" Tink beamed, and leaned in to give him a very quick kiss—which was ruined, of course, by his phone ringing.
They looked at the screen together, noticing the words 'Cora Mills' right away. Killian's heart sank.
"You don't have to answer her, do you?"
"Not if I don't want to live out the day," Killian snorted, his stomach tied in a knot as the phone continued to ring. She hasn't taken my heart. She can't be watching me.
Can she?
There was only one way to find out, so Killian answered the phone on the fourth ring. "What can I do for you today, Your Majesty?"
"You can tell me about Owen Flynn," Cora purred, but there was nothing nice in her voice. He could hear the familiar edge of anger, but for a long moment, Killian had absolutely no idea why she'd be less than happy with him.
"Who?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"Perhaps your memory is foggy, dear," the Evil Queen snapped. "Do you remember a little boy who came into town with his father, right after we all arrived?"
Oh. Damn. "I do," Killian answered slowly. He'd kept that secret from her for twenty-eight years. How in the world had she found out now?
"Do you perhaps remember failing to kill the boy as I ordered you to?" Her snarl was potent enough to give him the chills.
"I…I may have let the child go."
"May have? Really, Captain, I thought better of you. Don't you seafaring types understand how to follow orders?"
"Aye, but I'm not accustomed to murdering little boys, either. I got rid of his father, and no one would have ever believed him, so what's the bloody big deal now, love?" Killian finally snapped back, figuring that bluster was his best defense. Cora need not know that he was contemplating really and truly betraying her now. Let her think that had been the one time he'd strayed. For now.
"That 'little boy' came back as a man," Cora retorted. "Along with a young woman, and they have the goal of destroying magic forever. Do you see what the big deal is now, dear?"
Swallowing hard, Killian found himself nodding. "I do. Do you need me to take care of it?"
After all, he was fine with killing adults, particularly those who put his home and everyone he cared about—his eyes found Tink on their own with that thought—at risk. Killian would happily do Cora's bidding this one time, and then no further.
"Of course not. Zelena's spell turned them into monkeys. But I did want you to know how spectacularly your bleeding heart nearly ruined us," the queen said loftily. "Keep on like that, and I'll feel obliged to remove it from your chest."
"Ah, that's your family tradition, not mine," he said as casually as he could, said heart pounding faster. "I'll pass, though thank you for the kind offer."
"It won't be an offer next time." Click.
Killian stared at the phone in silence for a long moment, willing his breathing to return to normal and his heart to stop racing. That had been close. Too close.
"How could you ever work with her?" Tink asked quietly.
"Easy." He shrugged as casually as he could. "I wanted to win."
"I don't think allying with Cora will ever let anyone but her win," Astrid spoke up wisely. "She doesn't really seem willing to share."
"Aye. I fear you're right about that," he agreed, and squared his shoulders. "Now, let me gather the lads from the marina and we'll see what we can do about saving your fairy friends, shall we?"
Cora had promised her a good target, one full of fears and self-loathing, and who wouldn't be carefully guarded. For once, the Evil Queen had spoken true; Jabber found the red-haired former mermaid just where Cora said she would be, huddled up in one of the rooms at Granny's Inn and staring out the window. Ariel—though Jabber never bothered to ask her name—radiated her pain and loss so enormously that Jabber could feel it outside, and the siren song of the Jabberwocky's darkness salivated at the thought of absorbing that.
Jabber had been denied too many times, after all. She was hungry, and being starved so long meant that she had to drain someone of all of their positive emotions in order to come back on balance. A part of her regretted it, a little. But not much. She was what she was, and girls like this were simply food. It was not her fault that elemental fear and darkness lived inside her. She was the Jabberwocky. This was what she did, and Jabber was eager for a good meal.
In the end, Ariel didn't fight very hard. Having killed her own True Love had sucked the light and hope right out of her long before Jabber even came near her, and now she was terrified of betraying the few friends she had. She tried so hard to be strong, but even the strongest people had their breaking points. Jabber, of course, exploited every one of them. That was what she did, and her own raging hunger ensured that she would. Afterwards, when she'd bled away almost the entirety of Ariel's soul, Jabber felt utterly marvelous. She felt alive. She could resist Cora now, she knew. She wouldn't have to snack on Cora's heartless followers just to stay alive. For the first time since Zelena had pulled the Vorpal Blade out of her, she could take her time and find her own target, because she was finally sated.
Perhaps that was why she left a little of Ariel behind, just enough for the girl to find herself once more if she had the strength. Or perhaps Jabber simply had a mind for the future, and wanted to make sure that the heroes might not think so terribly of her.
That, and she had a plan.
Things were out of place in their bedroom, and it was not the first time. Last time, her robe had been on the floor. Now it was her favorite book. Belle knew she hadn't left Her Handsome Hero on the bed; it had been safely on the nightstand…but now it wasn't. Slowly, Belle reached out to pick the book up, making sure it was undamaged.
Dove wouldn't have moved her things, even if he'd been in here for some odd reason. And Babette wouldn't have, either. That only left one person, someone who might have touched both her robe and her favorite book, and pain welled up in Belle's throat as she realized that she must have missed him. Rumple was here, she thought brokenly, sinking down onto the bed when her legs gave way and hugging the old book to her chest. He came home, and I wasn't here.
"I miss you, Rumple," Belle whispered, trying not to cry.
She failed.
A/N: Do you think Cora's control of her "allies" is unravelling? Ingrid's gone behind her back, Hook is jumping ship, and the heroes are finding small victories despite her best efforts.
Stay tuned for Chapter Eighty-Seven—"Parents and Children," where Blue starts maneuvering, Baelfire punches August, the Jabberwocky reaches out, and Robin starts planning to rescue Regina.