AN: HUH... Yeah, I wrote this in 2020 and it took me a while to get done. This is like 99% canon compliant and goes a bit off the rails at the end... You'll see, you'll see...
Taylor wrote illicit affairs about these two and their annoying little affair (i say it with love, I enjoyed every second of it lol)
Don't Call Me "Kid", Don't Call Me "Baby"
The second Mary-Margaret's eyes meet John Doe's, she knows she's in trouble.
Mary-Margaret Blanchard likes the idea of love at first sight.
She often finds herself dreaming of a fairytale ending for herself, and, despite the fact that she's always known her memory to be fairly unreliable, with none of her memories being clear enough for her to ever be sure whether what she's thinking happened actually happened, there is one thing she's certain of: she's always relished in the idea of meeting her one true love.
While it isn't uncommon for children to dream of a fairytale happy ending- something she's more than aware of, considering that she spends most of her days surrounded by them, it seems that fantasising about this kind of things becomes way less common the older people get- as time goes on, hope slowly gets substituted with cynicism, in a way that is so subtle it only becomes noticeable once it's over. She's seen it happen to everyone around her, and even she has days where she wonders if holding out hope isn't too childish- after all, if everyone around her has given up, maybe it's for good reason, but she still can't help but to secretly long for it. The idea of sharing a link to another being, something deeper than physical, the idea of fate is all too enticing for her.
She also knows that if true love were easy, everyone would have it, and judging by the state of her own affairs, she isn't getting there anytime soon.
But, as she holds this stranger's face in her hands, she can't help but feel some type of connection- it's an odd sensation; almost like they've already met before, and although she doesn't believe in reincarnation, she almost feels like knows him from a past life. His eyes feel eerily familiar for a reason she cannot pinpoint, and she almost finds herself wondering if this could mean something.
His name is David Nolan, she learns soon after they reach the hospital: a thirty-one-year-old man, who, except for a bad case of retrograde amnesia, doesn't seem to bear any of the consequences that would usually come with being in a severely prolonged coma. It's a miracle in itself, according to the nurse who did a check-up on him upon arrival. He thanks Mary-Margaret for saving him- the fact that he's able to form coherent sentences so soon after waking up catches her off guard, and she tries to act as if it's nothing, despite the fact that she did save his life, and the two share a small moment. It isn't much: again, they don't know each other and all he does is give her a small smile, but it's just enough for Mary-Margaret's heart rate to accelerate just the tiniest bit. She blames it on the adrenaline, despite the fact that epinephrine doesn't usually take over half an hour kick in- something she's well aware of but chooses to push to the back of her mind.
She also learns soon enough that there is a Mrs. Nolan- because of course, there is. She watches as his wife wraps him in a tight hug from a safe distance, but their eyes lock for half a second- she immediately averts her gaze, almost feeling as if she's been caught doing something she shouldn't have.
She doesn't dare looking back in the direction of his room for the rest of the evening.
That night, Mary-Margaret finds herself incredibly thankful for Emma's presence. As much as she doesn't feel like discussing Regina's involvement in this story (or anything related to the mayoress for that matter) and Kathryn's sudden reappearance, she's glad she has something to distract her from her own thoughts; and, although she'd never dare to say it out loud, she revels in the idea of David and Kathryn's marriage being a sham.
"Everything okay?" Emma asks her, and she nods, before mustering up all her strength in an attempt to give her roommate a smile.
"I'm just tired," she says- not a lie, given the fact that she feels like she hasn't slept in weeks, "Matter of fact, I think I'm going to head to bed now."
The next time she volunteers at the hospital, one of the nurses tells him he's asked multiple times about her. She pretends not to know about it when she sees him- she feels she's been doing a whole lot of pretending, lately.
They spend the entire afternoon playing Scrabble together; he beams at her when he realizes he's close to winning, and Mary-Margaret has to spend the remainder of their time together trying to suppress the fluttering in her stomach. It works fine for the first few days; all she has to do is look away for the feeling to go away, but as time goes on, it intensifies, and in the process, her ability to suppress it shrivels up and dies.
Over the course of a few weeks, that slight fluttering feeling evolves into something entirely different- a pounding heartbeat, the once innocent soft glances become lingering gazes- their fingers brush when they reach for the same tile, and Mary-Margaret is so flushed her heart doesn't slow down for another twenty minutes.
Her heart drops to her stomach whenever she sees him and Kathryn- it's silly, and she's so desperate to stop feeling this way that she spends multiple evenings (unsuccessfully) trying to drill into her own mind that she's nothing more to him than the person who happened to save him that day, but deep down, she still wishes she were the one by his side, kissing and holding him. It's almost like sweet torture- he's just close enough for her to get a taste, yet so unreachable that even entertaining the thought of being with him feels like a transgression.
She miraculously manages to push David to a far corner of her mind for a few days, before she has to do another shift at the hospital- she's not even sure she wants to go, but she feels like a silly schoolgirl crush wouldn't be a reasonable reason to resign from the already understaffed and only hospital in this town. She still makes sure to steer away from his side of the ward, not wanting to face him or worse, see him with his wife. It's silly, and she feels doesn't have any valid reason to act this way other than her own apparently unwavering faith- if she hadn't been so eager to believe that she shared a connection with this complete stranger, she probably wouldn't find herself in this fictitious predicament; but she'll be damned if she has to deal with another encounter with him- she doesn't think she'd be able to take it. She's successful for the most part: she spots him once but he doesn't see her, and she manages to get away before he can.
However, she claims her victory too soon when she sees Whale walking in her direction. She hasn't talked to him since their disastrous excuse of a date- she doesn't count the time David went missing, since Emma did most of the talking and she'd spent the entire conversation pretending to be entranced by the hospital floor tiles. She feels like she's justified in this- she'd rather not have to face someone who'd spent the entirety of their date staring at the waitress' legs, although she supposes that's expected from the town lech. She decides she doesn't want to deal with him today, or ever.
So she does the first thing her mind tells her to, and ducks into the supply closet to her right.
She closes her eyes, leaning against the door.
"That was close," she whispers to herself, her hand palming the wall in search of a light switch. She eventually finds it, and flips it, the fluorescent lights illuminating the few shelves covered in medical supplies. She looks around, a strange feeling of inadequacy taking over her- she feels really has no business being here.
She holds her breath when she hears someone trying to open the door, and takes a step forward, taking her weight off the door.
"Mary-Margaret?" the person hesitantly asks, and she immediately curses at the sky when she recognizes who that voice belongs to.
"D-David?"
"What are you doing here?" He asks, sounding amused. She considers romance on short notice, but she gives up the idea after half a second- lying has never been her strong suit anyway, and she'd probably just end up making a fool out of herself.
"H-Hiding?"
"From me?" He asks, before turning on the light. He takes a step towards her, causing her to step back, causing her to bump against one of the shelves, "You've been avoiding me."
Mary-Margaret sighs, "I wasn't avoiding you." She isn't usually one to play with words- she prides herself on being an honest person (something that is due to circumstances that are entirely out of her control), but she'll make an exception because desperate times call for desperate measures, and while she may have been actively dodging David for a while, the person she was trying to hide from by going into the closet was Whale, not him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"I know you're scared of your feelings for me," He takes another step forward, and she doesn't move. He stares at her for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, and she finds herself unable to tear her eyes away from his. "I know it because I have feelings for you too."
He takes her hand in his, and Mary-Margaret stammers, "I- David, we can't do this." His face is now dangerously close to hers, his breath hot on her face. She wants to give in, but she also knows her actions have consequences- she thinks about Kathryn, who's been nothing but kind to her, and she wonders the type of person she would be if she were to break a marriage out of pure, selfish desire. She decides she doesn't want to be responsible for that, and gently pushes him away with her free hand.
"David," she pleads, ignoring the hurt that flashes across his face, "You're married."
David doesn't say anything, something Mary-Margaret is glad for: she doesn't want to have this conversation- not right now, or ever, for that matter.
She slips her hand out of David's. "I really should go," she announces, before walking out of the room, closing the door behind her.
It becomes harder and harder to ignore David, Mary-Margaret finds.
She bumps into Kathryn later that day, who once again thanks her once more for helping David, before going on about how glad she is that he seems to be getting his memories back. If it were anyone else, she'd be happy for them, ecstatic even, but looking at the circumstances, she's less than thrilled by the idea of him remembering his married life, and most importantly, him remembering being in love with his wife. It's selfish of her, and she's well aware it of, especially considering the fact that she's the one who'd rejected David that same day, but feelings are tricky, and she can't help it.
Emma chuckles when Mary-Margaret tells her about the supply closet. She doesn't know why she tells her roommate about it- she blames it on the fact that she desperately needs to let her emotions out in a healthy way, coupled with the glass of wine she's had, but the second Emma asks her how her day went, Mary-Margaret drops the tests she's grading and launches into a tirade about David.
She recognizes the lengths she will go to avoid people is ridiculous, but, in her defense, she's never been one for confrontation, and she doesn't see that changing anytime soon. Her love life went from being completely stagnant to an overwhelming mess in a matter of a few weeks, and she feels she already has enough on her plate to worry about what Whale has to say to her.
Emma pats her on the shoulder, "You can't avoid him forever, you know that, right ?"
Mary-Margaret snorts, "Whale or David?"
Emma gives her a sympathetic smile, "I mean, both."
She spends the entire night replaying her conversation with David, then thinks about Emma's advice- and chooses to resign from volunteering at the hospital three days later. Her roommate may be right in the fact that she can't hide forever- not in a town as small as Storybrooke, where everyone knows about everyone's whereabouts, but she can sure as hell try.
David gets discharged a few days later- she learns about it through Emma, although she can't pretend that she wasn't feeling the slightest hint of curiosity about David's whereabouts.
She feels a slight pang in her chest at the idea that he's going home to his wife, although she's relieved by the fact that he seems to have fully recovered.
"We hope to see you at his welcome home party," Kathryn tells her, when she bumps into her at Granny's the next morning, "After all you've done for him, I'm sure he'd love for you to be there," she says, and Mary-Margaret is almost left speechless- if only Kathryn learned about anything that had been going on between the two, she bets she would be uninvited in a heartbeat.
Mary-Margaret ends up giving her a shy smile and an awkward nod, but doesn't show up for the party- she's not in the mood to see David, let alone David and his wife being affectionate with each other, and besides, she feels like she has more important business to attend.
Emma looks particularly incredulous when Mary-Margaret tells her about her evening plans.
"Really?" She even asks, raising an eyebrow before bringing her mug to her mouth and taking a sip of her coffee, "You're going to spend your evening... hanging bird feeders?"
Mary-Margaret shrugs as she wraps her scarf around her neck, "I don't see anything wrong with that."
"Well, for starters, it's nine in the evening," Emma points out. "Are you sure this doesn't have anything to do with David?"
Mary-Margaret pauses for half a second at the mention of David's name, but she quickly regains her composure.
She hasn't mentioned him since the supply closet incident- what did she feel like there is to say anyway? That she was falling in love with the wrong person? She doesn't expect Emma to judge her, given her friend's disastrous track record when it comes to dating, but Mary-Margaret refuses to acknowledge any of this mess.
"No," she draws out the 'o', "I just... really love birds. Nothing more," she tries.
Emma sighs, before shaking her head, "Sure, you do."
Surprisingly enough, hanging up bird feeders turns out to be quite an effective distraction from her feelings. The cold air almost causes her to lose feeling in her fingers, and subsequently, her grip on the birdhouse, causing her to almost drop it a few times. The slight hiss of the wind is just disconcerting enough for her to start wishing she'd stayed home, but she came here with the intention of hanging up that house, and she'll be damned if she doesn't do as she said she would.
She's had better days, but she's thankful for the fact that her growing discomfort is just enough to make her forget the reason she's here.
"Did you not get the invite?" She jumps when she hears a voice coming from the sidewalk.
"David..." She says, still working on the bird feeder. He jumps over the fence separating the grass from the pavement, before tentatively taking the bird feeder from her hands. He extends out his other hand to help her climb down the small ladder she's standing on, before climbing on it and hanging it in one swift motion.
"So, I heard you resigned from the hospital. Was it because of me? Because of what I told you, about how I felt about you?" He asks, turning his head to look at her. She looks down at the ground and buries her hands in her pockets. To her, the answer is very obvious: she resigned right after he tried to kiss her, and although all the other volunteers found themselves confused by her sudden decision, David was the one person who knew the reason she did.
"Oh come on- don't tell me it's one-sided," He adds, climbing down and facing her.
Mary-Margaret sighs once more, her eyes scanning the area in a desperate attempt to avoid his eyes. She doesn't want to face him again- she found herself dangerously close to giving in the last time, to say hell to everyone and just kiss him there that the amount of self-control it took her not to was astronomical; she refuses to put herself through that again. "You're married. It should be no sided," she points out. She feels like the fact that the thought of it ever even crossed any of their minds should be enough to make her- to make them both feel deeply ashamed.
"What it should be doesn't matter," David pleads.
"David... Please, let's not make this any more complicated than it is," she begs.
"But whoever married Kathryn, it's not me. I didn't choose her. I choose you," he says, and her eyes can't help but meet his- she's taken aback by how sincere he looks. "I know you feel it. I can tell."
Her breath hitches in her throat, and she forces her eyes shut before taking a step back. This is all wrong- being in love with someone else doesn't absolve someone from their moral duties as a married person; if anything, it's the opposite. Someone needs to put an end to this.
She takes a deep breath, "I know you think we have this connection... but maybe it's because I happen to be the person who saved your life?" She says, and is momentarily taken aback by how convincing she sounds, before realizing that it doesn't have anything to do with her lying abilities- she's spent so much time trying to convince herself it was the case that she ended up believing it, to the point where she refuses to admit that there may be something more between them- even when faced with undeniable evidence. Her thoughts are all so contradictory that this entire ordeal has evolved from a simple mess to a full-blown trainwreck, and she really wishes she'd never complained about her life being boring, because she'd rather be dealing with her existential ennui than whatever the hell this is.
"I really think we should leave it at that. You should get back to your wife," she finally adds, walking past him and leaving before he can even begin to form an answer.
It's safe to say that evening is ruined, but at least she's got one less thing to worry about.
Mary-Margaret heads home, and immediately looks for ways to take her mind off of things- Emma seems to be gone, and for a second she considers breaking out the wine, but she doesn't want to drink on a school night, no matter how badly she needs it- she's already got more heartache to deal with than necessary, and the idea of adding a hangover mixed with screaming children is enough to keep her away from the cabinet.
Emma comes home to find her furiously scrubbing one of her plates. "Did the birds not like the feeder?"
Mary-Margaret starts scrubbing even harder, "What are you supposed to do when the person you're infatuated with returns your feelings and won't stop trying to make a move on you despite being married- no matter how many times you've told them it can't happen because of said marriage?"
"Oh wow," Emma chuckles, "I didn't know bluebirds had marital problems."
Mary-Margaret shoots her a look, "No matter how much I tell David it can't happen, he still insists that he wants to be with me. It's so hard to say no."
Emma walks around the counter and takes the plate from Mary-Margaret's hands, "Come on, I think you need a drink more than you need to wash those dishes."
David shows up in her classroom the next day- she already has one headache to deal with, and isn't in the mood to deal with this particular one.
She must be cursed, she tells herself as he makes his way towards her- positively cursed. She considers herself to be a good person- she doesn't steal, lie, let alone cheat- but this is just enough to make her question the kind of atrocities she must have committed in a past life to deserve this.
He begs her for a chance and tells her to meet him at the troll bridge that same evening if his feelings are reciprocated. Part of her is screaming at her to go- she wants him, desperately, and she can feel her resolve decreasing with every single one of their encounters, but she thinks about what Emma told her the night before, and decides to keep her distance.
As it turns out, actions do speak louder than words.
A few hours later, she learns about David leaving Kathryn through Mrs. Mills. The mayoress' tone is a tad too accusatory for Mary-Margaret's taste, and she seems to take a little too much pleasure in emphasizing the fact that David is still married, but Mary-Margaret refuses to be held responsible for something she was fully unaware of. She might understand how a person might misinterpret the situation- she'll admit that David hasn't been very discreet with his courting, but she refuses to have her integrity unfairly questioned.
Mrs. Mills seems to be genuinely taken aback by the fact that Mary-Margaret doesn't know about the news, and although the encounter leaves a bad taste in her mouth, she can't help but feel slightly giddy about learning that he's left his wife.
She pays for her food and heads to the sheriff's station- if there's anyone who'll know what to do in her mind, it's Emma.
"He left her." She says, immediately upon entering the sheriff's station. Emma barely has the time to react before Mary-Margaret enters the room, and starts pacing around the desk. "David, he left Kathryn. He wants me to meet him at the troll bridge, but I don't know if I should, and-"
"Hold on, he left his wife? That's amazing!" Her roommate exclaims, "If you weren't sure about his choice, you are now- there's nothing stopping you."
Mary-Margaret stops dead in her tracks, turning her head to look at Emma,"B-but shouldn't I stay away from him?"
"Well, it was one thing to tell you he wants to be with you, but leaving his wife is completely another step to take."
"Do you think so?"
"Absolutely. I think you should go for it."
Mary-Margaret practically bolts home, when the school day is over. It's almost like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders, and she can finally breathe. She's glad not to be haunted by a moral dilemma anymore- and she thinks this might be the beginning of something new.
Of course, the situation remains less than ideal: David might have left his wife, but he was still married in the eyes of the law, but knowing that he'd chosen her, and had actually taken action in order for them to be together made her heart soar.
She arrives at the troll bridge exactly 2 minutes and 29 seconds early. David isn't there yet, and the apprehension is gnawing at her, enough for her to let her imagination run wild and come up with all sorts of scenarios; she comes up with a hundred different scenarios of what could happen, all of them often ending up in intercourse– the thought of it makes her skin flush, and she feels the need to berate herself for even allowing her mind to go there, but sometimes a girl just needs some hot, steamy sex- something she hasn't gotten in forever.
She wraps her cardigan tight around herself as she stares down at her own outfit, suddenly becoming overly self-conscious as she tries not to shiver- it isn't winter yet, and her outfit isn't particularly revealing, but the Storybrooke air is always just chilly enough to make her wonder why she didn't wear something warmer.
Mary-Margaret is checking her watch for what must be the fifteenth time in a row before someone taps on her shoulder- she turns around, sees David, and beams at him. Her smile immediately falters when she notices the sullen expression on his face.
"You came," he tells her, and she's taken aback by his tone of force.
"You almost sound disappointed." She says, not hiding her wariness. The expression that crosses his face says it all.
Of course, it would go that way- because god forbid she's able to be interested in someone without it going completely sideways.
She blinks multiple times as she walks away from the troll bridge, trying to keep the tears from falling, despite the fact there's no point in repressing her emotions anymore- she's now sure that there is absolutely no hope of her and David ever getting together. The frustration is bubbling up inside her, nearing the surface. There are so many things she wants to do; scream, cry her heart, even curse David for leading her on, but she finds herself unable to do or say anything- instead, her voice gets caught in her throat and she chokes on her words, only adding to her ever-growing frustration. She really doesn't want to cry- it's not worth it, none of it is worth it, clearly, and she once again feels incredibly foolish about the entire ordeal.
She doesn't want to go home, though- she hates the idea of being on her own, more importantly because she knows it'll only result in her trying to fend off more intrusive thoughts than she can possibly deal with, but the sheriff station is currently off limits due to Emma being on the night patrol; and quite frankly, Emma is not the person she wants to face at the moment- and besides, she'd very much like not to bother her roommate with her own disastrous love life.
She instead finds herself gravitating towards Granny's Diner. She doesn't know what she's looking for, especially when she'd intended to go home (and if possible, to slip under her blanket and never get up)- but the warm lights emitted from the diner are enough to lure her in.
Mary-Margaret never realizes how lonely she is until now- before then, she'd never found herself so desperately in need of comfort. If the amount of acquaintances she has is anything to go by, she'd consider herself to be generally well-liked in Storybrooke. She usually isn't bothered by the fact that their conversation topics never extend past the weather and whatever is at the front cover of the Daily Mirror but, as she sits at the counter of Granny's Diner, surrounded by people she's supposed to know, she realizes she's never felt so lonely.
Out of all the ways she could have spent her evening, she'll admit that the most likely scenario for her would have been to cry in front of a terrible rom-com.
If someone had told Mary-Margaret she'd spend the entire evening drinking her sorrows away with Whale just mere hours prior, she would have laughed in their face.
That's really not the turn she'd expected her night to take, but she'll take anything over sulking over David- she's shed way more tears than necessary over someone who clearly doesn't care for her if he was willing to toy with her feelings in such a cruel manner, and she berates herself from getting her hopes up- maybe if she hadn't been so eager to jump to conclusions, the let down would have been less painful, but she doesn't want to think about it- she's still feeling too raw and beaten down to let herself overthink this.
She's the one to order the shots- he seems genuinely surprised at first, like he'd expected her to reject him, and she would have, under any other circumstances, but tonight is different.
"Fuck him for choosing her," she blurts out of nowhere, before letting her head rest on the counter. Whale looks at her, looking genuinely taken aback. Mary-Margaret lets out another giggle- she rarely ever swears, and, while the who aren't close, she supposes it's a given, considering her reputation. The fact that she spends her free time with nuns probably doesn't help her, but she's full of anger and sorrow, and goddamn, even she should be allowed to swear every once in a while.
"I have no idea what this is about," he says, before downing another shot. He pauses for a few seconds, wincing as the liquor burns his throat on its way down, "But amen."
It's probably the excess alcohol or her lowered inhibitions, but Mary-Margaret finds that Whale isn't too bad of a company- he can even be funny, at times. Plus, she'll admit she hasn't felt this euphoric in a while, but to be fair, she hasn't drank this much in a while either- or ever, probably. After spending so much time moping over someone who ultimately ended up not choosing her, she deserves to have some fun- even when said fun is with a person she didn't want anything to do with mere hours ago.
"You know..." she starts, her train of thought fuzzy as she tries to piece the words together, "You're not so bad when you're not ogling Ruby, you know?"
He giggles at that, "Thanks, I think?"
They don't stop drinking- one would think that past a certain point, one of them would put an end to this, but they just keep one upping themselves, to the point where they stay at the bar until it's closing time. He walks her home, and for some reason, she invites him in- she's willing to blame anything on the alcohol, at that point.
She wakes up at some point during the afternoon. Her head is pounding, her mouth is awfully dry and the sole thought of opening her eyes is enough for her to feel exhausted- she can barely tell what time is it, let alone remember the events of the previous night. It comes back in bits and pieces over the course a few minutes, her memories a little too fragmented to build a precise narrative, but enough to give her a rough idea- something about Dr. Whale and getting awfully drunk and- oh, David and the fucking troll bridge.
If before that she was cursing her past self for making the decision to get wasted, she's a little more sympathetic now- "If I were in that position, I'd drink myself to death too," she thinks, before realizing that she was in that situation and she almost did just that- she has no estimate of how much she has drank but she supposes that one must have drank a considerable amount to feel like they're being flattened, inflated, nauseous and awfully hungry all at the same time- a feat she didn't deem possible until that day.
"Look who's awake," Emma says, once she notices Mary-Margaret moving, "Looks like you had fun yesterday," she says, before setting down a cup of coffee on Mary-Margaret's nightstand.
"What-" She manages to croak out, peeking her head from under the covers.
"Well," Emma grins, "I just had little a run-in with Whale this morning."
"It's not what you think," Mary-Margaret answers. Emma shoots her a look as she notices the heat rising up to her cheeks, "Actually, it's exactly what you think. He was just- You know?" she shrugs her shoulders under the covers.
"I mean, I don't, but what you do in your free time is none of my business," she says, before pausing for a second, her eyebrow raised, "Or rather who you do, I guess."
She'll admit she's even more shocked by Emma's lack of reaction than anything else- she'd almost expected to get judged because, well, she was supposed to meet up with David the previous night and had ended up drunkenly hooking up with the town lech- and the thought that David was probably at home with his wife, having a nice dinner and being awfully domestic almost makes Mary-Margaret retch, the bout of nausea she was having not helping at all the situation.
For a town that is usually so inert, gossip sure does spread like wildfire. By the time she comes back to school on Monday morning, most of the town knows about what they think is a secret relationship she and Whale had hidden from everyone- a theory that is as preposterous as it is fake, but the inhabitants of Storybrooke are so starved for drama that they'll blow any type of anything out of proportion, only to get bored of it and let it die within a few weeks. So, she figures that's what is happening here- she'll get asked a few unpleasant questions and shrug her shoulders as an answer (not that she could even give anyone any details about anything, considering that fact that she barely remembers what happened with Whale, and she reckons things are better off this way). Then, everyone will forget about it and act like none of it ever happened.
"Unpleasant, but doable," she tells herself for the eighth time that day as one of her colleagues asks her if the rumor is true. She shakes her head, not wanting to entertain the topic any further, but her colleage refuses to let Mary-Margaret go, desperately prying for details, clearly grasping at straws- Mary-Margaret is almost tempted to roll her eyes, knowing very well that the conversation is going nowhere, considering the fact that there is nothing to discuss.
By day two, the rumor somehow has escalated, despite the fact that she's done nothing to prove (or disprove, for that matter) the claims that she and Whale are together- however, she learns from Ruby that the people of the town now think she and Whale got secretly married in Vegas, a lie so big she doesn't know how anyone with two functional brain cells could gobble it up, especially considering the fact that neither she nor Whale have ever done so much as left Storybrooke, but she decides not to question it anymore.
By day three, she's almost ready to pack her bags and leave town- start over in a town where people won't ask her if she's pregnant just because she doesn't drink coffee, or why she's not wearing a wedding band despite the fact that she's not married.
Mrs. Mills watches her like a hawk during the entirety of the week. It puts Mary-Margaret on edge- like a twig, she feels ready to snap at any moment, a trait that is only exacerbated by the fact she has to spend the entire day watching over children. She doesn't yell at anyone that day, nor does she let her mood affect her behavior.
The only positive thing about her week is that she hasn't run into David- not once, a feeling that it takes her a while to get used to, considering the fact that he used to be at every corner, but she considers it to be a good thing. She doesn't need to think about this specific trainwreck of hers while having to deal with another one.
It takes roughly twelve days for the rumor mill to die down and by the time it's over, she's almost forgotten how to be a functional human. She seriously considers changing her name and moving to Alaska for a moment.
Mary-Margaret has never been late. Ever since she's been thirteen years old, her menstrual cycle has essentially been clockwork- every twenty-eight days, she gets the chocolate and hot water bottle ready, and things have... never been different...
Which is why... She panics.
The mug she's holding slips from her hands, shattering into a million pieces and spilling its contents all over her living room floor. She stands in the middle of the mess she's made, completely dumbfounded, for what feels like an eternity. She hears the door opening and finally snaps out of her daze. She tries to pick the pieces up, but her hands shake uncontrollably, and she only manages to cut herself with one of the glass shards instead.
"This day can't get worse," she says, as she bends down to pick up the pregnancy test she's dropped, only to see Kathryn and David in the same aisle as her. Kathryn is smiling, and she has a pregnancy test in her cart- the same one as her.
"Good luck," Kathryn says, grinning at her, "So you and Whale, huh?" David doesn't dare looking at her.
Mary-Margaret shakes her head, "It's not like that."
"Alright," Kathryn answers, "I just hope you get the results you hoped for."
"I hope the same goes for you," she fakes a smile, before waving goodbye and making a beeline for the cash register.
The anxiety eats at her, gnawing at her like Emma would at a bear claw. She stares at the timer, the small device seemingly mocking her. Tick, Tock, each second feels like an hour while she waits for the test results. Just as she thinks her heart's about to give out from the anticipation, the timer finally beeps.
She takes a deep breath and finally gathers the courage to look at the pregnancy test in her hand.