"Let's try not to have another disagreement like this, okay? I want this baby to alive and well for the next few months. Now I have to go into town and get a new pane of glass. I may as well go for dinner there too. A night away from each other might be just what I need."
Arthur then releases Emma and locks the door. Once he's out of earshot, he nearly collapses against the wall in agony. The stab wound Gwen gave him has not healed properly, probably because he had not taken the time to take care of it. The most he had done was clean it with water and clearly, that was not helping. The wound still radiated heat and burned every time he moved his shoulder.
"Blasted furnaces of hell!" he hisses through gritted teeth. His eyes squeeze out tears as he stumbles downstairs. He swears under his breath as he goes for his car keys.
He knew what he had to do next and he wasn't going to like it. He would head into town and go to the local hospital, then the hardware store to get a new pane of glass and then the bar to eat. He didn't want to deal with Emma, not right after the way she attacked him.
Arthur starts up the car, but hesitates, looking up at the window where Emma would be. The bars seemed to be holding, but he knew she wouldn't give up.
"I should've picked someone else," he mutters. But now that she's pregnant, he must keep her around. Arthur pulls away from the cabin, leaving a trail of gravel and dirt behind.
…
It's almost an hour and a half before Arthur pulls into the local town. He hadn't bothered learning the name of it, but it was tiny and dirty. The place was struggling to stay alive today. There were mostly hunting stores along the stretch of highway and souvenir shops for the visitors to the national park area. It was getting close to winter, the camping and hiker population would decrease, but there would be more hunters in the area, Arthur had to take note of this when it comes to his hiding place. He passes a few shops, one is the market where he had been buying food and then the hardware store where he bought his "equipment," a few clothing shops, a restaurant or two, a post office and a tiny sheriff's station. Arthur was especially wary when he went by it, but he continued until he came to the tiny building that could hardly pass for a hospital. It was about two stories high with a single ambulance parked in the front. He pulls up into the parking lot and then gets out with his sore shoulder.
He did not expect a big crowd when he checked in and for the most part, he was right. A lone receptionist sat behind a desk and few people were sitting in the waiting room. One's foot looked swollen beyond belief and a few others had some nasty infections, coughing or sneezing frequently.
"What is the nature of your injury?" the receptionist asks.
"Possibly infected wound," he answers.
"How did it happen?"
"B-bar fight," Arthur says quickly. "Bastard stabbed me."
"That's funny, I didn't hear about any bar fights recently."
Curse this small town! Arthur growls to himself. Of course, they would keep tabs on any local happenings. Why can't they just mind their own businesses like normal people?
"I just got into town," Arthur lies, thinking on his feet. "It happened a few weeks ago in another city. I came up here to do some hiking before the snow comes, but I can't do it with this shoulder."
"Very well," the receptionist says. "Have a seat and someone will come and get you soon."
"Thank you."
Arthur sits down away from the sick people and puts his head in his hands.
Why did you do this to yourself, Arthur? His conscience scolds him. You could have just left the girl alone.
It's too late to have regrets, he murmurs, resting his eyes for a few moments, unaware of the old TV playing a news segment on Emma's disappearance. Fortunately for him, most of the people are in too much pain or are too sick to notice.
…
When he's called in, an elderly male nurse guides him to a room with an examination table. He tells him the doctor will be there shortly. Sure enough, an aged doctor with thick rimmed glasses and a white lab coat comes in and looks at his sheet.
"Mr… uh… Davidson?"
"Yes that's me," Arthur says.
"You say you have a possibly infected wound?"
"Yes on my shoulder."
"May I take a look at it?"
Arthur removes his coat and then his flannel shirt, revealing the wound.
The doctor makes an unusual noise as he puts on some gloves.
"This is going to hurt, but I need to get a full examination of the wound."
"Fine," Arthur says.
The doctor begins to poke and prod at the wound, causing his patient to grind his teeth in agony. Eventually, the healthcare professional uses a few sharp tools to take a skin sample.
"How did this happen?" the doctor asks.
"Bar fight," Arthur replies in a hiss. "In another town."
"What was the weapon?"
Arthur knew trying to lie would make him look suspicious so he is honest.
"Screwdriver I'm pretty sure. The closest thing he could find."
"Well it is infected; it's a good thing you came now before it got any worse. I'm going to have to have it cleaned and you'll have to take antibiotics. I also recommend you get a tetanus shot to lower the risk further."
"But I will recover?" Arthur asks.
"I'm confident you will, we just need to get you on the proper medication."
"Do what you have to Doc," his patient shrugs.
…
After a few hours of agony and a filled prescription, Arthur leaves the hospital feeling sore, but a little bit better. He gets into the car and then drives towards the hardware store. The man behind the counter greets him, remembering the face from a few weeks ago.
"What can I help you with sir?"
"Got a broken window… A branch crashed through when I was cutting off the dead wood."
"What size?"
"Standard, I'll also need some gloves to remove the shards."
"Absolutely," the man says. "Follow me."
As they weave through the aisles, the hardware store owner asks Arthur questions.
"Where are you from?"
"Here and there mostly, wife left me awhile back, took the kids. I haven't really been in a stable home for awhile, been seeing the country really."
"Must be fun," the man nods.
"Problem is I'm running out of cash," Arthur sighs.
The man reaches up and takes down a pane of glass. "Will this do?"
"I need half an inch more so I won't have to winterize as much," Arthur answers. "Speaking of which, do you have the tight seal solution, mother nature is a bitch in the winter."
"Uh sure…" the man says. "You know, if you need some extra cash, we can always use extra hands in the store room. A lot of our winter stuff comes around this time and it's hard to unload it all."
Arthur's eyes perk up to the suggestion. "Are you serious?"
"It won't be a lot but it's better than living in your car."
A grin forms on the man's face. "That would be great, when can I start?"
"Monday if that's possible,"
"I'll be there," Arthur says. He takes the window pane, seal, and gloves. "Thank you so much." He shakes the man's hand. In the background, the radio is blaring the news report and description of Emma Swan.
"I'm Andrew by the way."
"Mark Davidson," Arthur says. "I'll see you Monday."
Once outside Arthur feels some great relief knowing that he now had a source of income. He could now buy food and provide for this new baby… his new baby.
He reached into his pocket and pulls out Gwen's credit card. He tosses it into the nearby sewer. "The buck stops here."
…
"Another pint sir?" the bartender asks.
"Fill it up," Arthur says. He eats some baby back ribs at the bar of the local pub with onion rings and coleslaw.
The TV is showing the local news and a picture of Emma flashes on the screen.
"That's the fourth time they've shown this segment," the bartender comments, wiping a few extra glasses, trying to make small talk with Arthur. "I feel bad for the son."
"Been hearing it on the radio," Arthur says casually, swallowing hard and avoiding the bartender's eyes.
"What kind of sick son of a bitch would kidnap an innocent woman like that?" the man behind the bar asks.
The segment of Commissioner Gold is on the screen where he gives the description of the man, followed by an image of Arthur, but with a full head of hair. Arthur continues to keep his eyes down. Then the description of the car is flashed on the screen. The kidnapper grinds his teeth together.
"Heard he kidnapped his own kids too," he adds. "Then returned them."
Arthur just nods. Inside he's freaking out, he knows he must remain calm or someone will notice and call the cops.
Keep it together, he thinks to himself. You could fool the wife for almost three weeks, you can fool a town of morons.
"It sure is sad," Arthur says casually. "Hope they find her soon…"
"Here's your pint," the bartender says, before going back to the kitchen.
Arthur finishes his food, wraps up any extras for Emma and pays the bill.
Once he's outside, he goes to the pharmacy and then the gas station.
…
"Can I get a gallon of regular please?" Arthur asks at the local gas station. He has a bag of hair dye, razors and other essentials for staying under the radar. He also has a pack of cigarettes, some vodka, and matches.
"How will that be paid?" the woman behind the counter asks.
"Cash," is the answer. My last bit of cash.
He takes the jug and heads to his car without a second glance at the woman.
…
Afterward, Arthur drives out just outside the national park area and stops. It's out in an open area, away from any trees because a forest fire is the last thing he needs. He removes everything from it… pausing once when he found one of Ben's toy cars. Pocketing it, he hikes a mile or two into the park, away from the car, tosses any of his children's luggage into a ravine and hiked back. He sighs heavily, leaving a few of his own belongings in the car. He dumps the jug of gasoline on the inside and out of the vehicle, especially on the license plates. Without batting another eye, he tosses lit matches at it until the entire thing a fireball. Taking his belongings, Arthur disappears into the park, knowing the hike was going to be long, but it was the only way back "home."
...
Sweating and exhausted, Arthur finally sees the cabin come into view. He feels so much relief from lugging the heavy load around. He unlocks the door, tosses his pharmacy products on the floor and takes the bag of leftovers up to Emma. He reaches for his keys when he hears Emma's voice. It sounds like she's talking to somebody.
Immediately Arthur drops the leftovers, picks up the pace and unlocks the door without trying to tip Emma off. He peers inside and sees Emma talking on the cell phone. He searches his pockets frantically and realizes that the phone was gone. It must've fallen out when he was dealing with Emma this morning. He charges over towards Emma.
"Killian there's something you should know, I'm..."
Arthur grabs the phone from Emma's hand, slaps her across the face and stomps on the phone, completely destroying it.
"I thought we agreed we weren't going to fight like this," he growls.