Prematurely Fulfilling Her Destiny

by KateTaylor01

Hook decides he's going to pre-empt the curse breaking by finding the Savior as soon as possible and bringing her to Storybrooke early. Also on AO3

17. Chapter 17

Helpless rage is a feeling David thought he was familiar with. As Robert drank himself into a stupor and changed from the father he knew into a stranger with his face, and nothing David did made a difference, he thought he knew the feeling. Though he was too young to express it with words. He was losing his father. He was losing his family and could do nothing. He was too small to affect anything. When Bo Peep branded him and his mother, threatening to collect on their farm and the only home they had, he thought he knew then. This bully of a warlord was going to take away everything they had, extortion for protection from her soldiers, payments they couldn't afford, and he could do nothing. Once again, he could do nothing as everything he and his mother had would be ripped away from them. He was helpless as they became subject to this bully of a warlord for as long as they lived. As King George threatened him, that he would continue to masquerade as his dead twin brother, wed Princess Abigail, unite the kingdoms with King Midas, or his mother would suffer and die, God, did he think he knew then. He would be forced to live a life as an imposter, losing his name and his very identity, bound to a woman he didn't love lest those he did love pay the price, and he could do nothing. How could he fight? He may have proven his mettle against a dragon, but that dragon wasn't going to target his mother. When Snow was poisoned, when she was dying, he thought he knew. Clinging to the steel bars preventing him from reaching his true love as the pain in his chest hauled him forward. He was helpless in that cell, shaking the bars to no avail, beating at the lock until his knuckles bled. Somewhere out there, he knew Snow was suffering. When Snow ate the apple, he thought he knew then. Stuck where, once again, he could do nothing! As a wicked witch interrupted his wedding, taking it from the happiest day of his life to one of the worst, threatening to take everything all of them loved, he thought he knew then. He felt that same rage fill him, and he was helpless to do anything. Even throwing his sword at the witch did nothing. It didn't prevent the curse.

Somehow, none of that compares to practically every moment with his baby girl. From her first breaths as the darkened clouds of the curse rolled in and Black Knights stormed the castle, to a terrifying feeling that dragged him to a burning City Hall to find his baby girl covered in soot and ash, sporting bandaged hands and a sheepish smile, to a call from the Huntsman at about three-thirty in the morning leaving him speeding across town fearing the worst, hearing the pirate and the Huntsman tell the tale of that night, covered in Emma's dried blood, to what she told him, knowing what happened to her and how he failed her, and now, not being able to keep her. And now, now that he knows the wardrobe allowed two to enter this world…God! The wardrobe took two! He could have gone with her! Snow should have been able to go with her! Emma should have had someone! His baby should never have been alone, should never have had to endure this!

God, all the ways he failed to keep his little girl safe… All of those times before where he'd been helpless had never been combined with self-loathing. He hadn't hated himself for it. He felt inadequate, but he never hated himself. But this, he failed to do the one thing he swore he always would, and he is continuing to fail Emma. He grasps what it is to grow up without a father, and he swore he would never let a child, his child, grow up that way. But he failed, and Emma grew up alone, without her father there to protect her. And God, he thinks he might just despise himself for it.

Not any longer, he decides. He's awake, he's alive, and he's in the same realm as his baby girl. Hell and high water couldn't prevent him from trying to reach her, to save her. All the armies of all the realms couldn't stop him. He will find her. He will always find her. She found him, and now it is his turn to find her.

David climbs into the front seat of his truck. It was bizarre, growing accustomed to these vehicles. Honestly, he'd prefer a horse any day. Being unable to see what is propelling him forward unnerves him. But there are memories implanted by the curse, ones of learning how to operate these, even a vague and cloudy memory of purchasing his truck. As it is something in this world, a sort of rite of passage for entering adulthood, maybe it'll be something he can teach Emma. Maybe that will be some way he can be relevant in his daughter's life, something he can teach her that a father would. The thought only serves to emphasize the milestones he has missed in her life. Her first steps, her first words, her first smile.

I can't change those, but I can change things moving forward. I just have to hope she'll be able to forgive me one day for not being there. If she can forgive me for that, then maybe I'll deserve to forgive myself.

Maintaining a steady grip on the steering wheel, David slowly presses the accelerator to the floor, heading directly for the town line. Yes, the Huntsman cautioned what happened when someone else attempted to leave Storybrooke. They failed and totaled their car in the process. But it's his daughter on the other side of that line. David can't allow second-hand information to hinder him from getting to Emma, not without at least making an attempt himself. He can't see anything that would stop him from leaving, just an open stretch of road flanked by trees on either side. David presses the gas harder as dead leaves rush by and dance away on the wind in his wake. Just a bit further until he's out of town and on his way to Boston. Not that he knows how to get there, but once he's past the town line, everything else can be worked out later. Because she's his baby. Emma found him, now he'll find her.

Regina brought the social worker here. She surrendered the ironclad security around Storybrooke. Evidently, she considered the risk of allowing an outsider in was worth it if it meant the Savior was removed from town. If strangers can breach the border, then David has a chance of getting out as well as they got in. If there's a chance to find his daughter, then he's damn well going to take it. He presses the accelerator to the floor of the truck, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the road before him.

Suddenly, the truck stops with a jolt, connecting with something solid. The truck rocks backwards from the momentum, then veers off the road. David slams forward into the deployed airbag, his seatbelt digging into his chest. "What the…?" Something warm dribbles down across his lip. As soon as the taste reaches his tongue, he realizes it's blood. Pinching his bleeding nose, David shakily exits the car to see the front bumper falling off, the hood dented upward and the right headlight shattered. Smoke hisses as it rises from under the hood, thick, black and noxious. His door creaks, shattering the quiet of the woods, suggesting some damage to the suspension as well. Lightly kicking the tires, David sighs. Flat. As if a flat tire is the most immediate concern he has right now.

He's managed to maneuver a few damaged carts in his day. Not safely, mind you, but he managed. So David climbs back in the driver's seat, wipes the blood from his face and his hand, and tries turning the key in the ignition. Smoke billows upward at an alarming rate. A truly disturbing sound echoes from the engine, like some kind of demon or monster from the depths of Hell. Almost immediately, he turns the truck back off.

His truck is definitely going to need to be towed. Frowning, he turns back to the wide open, empty stretch of road he was just driving down. What the hell did he hit? Is there a physical barrier around the town? As he calls for a tow truck and waits, David approaches the line. Something crackles in the air as he approaches, feeling distinctly solid and heavy. A force he can't see repels him backward, away from a clear barrier.

David approaches, reaching closer to the barrier, striking his fist against it, only to be knocked backwards, flat on his back in the middle of the road. Glaring at the open expanse of what should be nothing and shaking the pain from his hand, David climbs to his feet.

"I'm not giving up," he whispers, even if only to himself. Gathering a deep breath, he narrows his eyes at the expanse of the barrier around the town. Releasing it, he charges forward, making it five steps before being thrown backwards, landing once again on his back in the middle of the road.

Frowning as he considers the open stretch of road before him, David selects a rock off of the ground, lightly tossing it forward. The small piece of asphalt connects with an invisible barrier, then lands beside his foot. In his frustration, David kicks the barrier only to end up flat on his back, knocked to the ground by the impact once again.

Winded and in a considerable amount of pain, he lies on the ground, staring straight up to the sky. Off-hand, David wonders if he could fly out, watching birds pass overhead. As he recovers his breath, the realization sinks in.

It's a barrier he can't cross. No one can, it seems. No one subject to the curse, at least, he recalls Hook's comment with no small amount of resentment. There's no possible way for him to help Emma in Boston. So he's stuck with this sickening feeling in his gut, dreading the worst, that anything could happen to her and he can do nothing to change that. Even worse, he's stuck relying on another man to protect his child. What kind of father does that make him?

It's his own fault that he can do nothing to change it. When given the choice, the two of them chose the world, the kingdom, over their daughter. Emma needed them, and they chose the happiness of the kingdom over their daughter, her safety, her wellbeing, her happiness. They sacrificed Emma, and this was the price. His suffering, this uncertainty and fear, the feeling of helpless rage and inadequacy, this is the price of his inaction. One David will happily spare his wife.

With that realization, David climbs once again, shakily to his feet, leaning against the truck and hanging his head in his hands.

Ever since the hospital, David cannot help but wonder if they truly made the right choice. The selfless choice. Not only did he and Snow subject themselves to suffering, forgoing the chance to reunite their family, but they sentenced their daughter to it as well. They sentenced their daughter to this suffering, with her having no idea about the truth, about them, or about how much they love her. David recognizes one thing, if nothing else. He truly has no idea the extent to which his baby girl has suffered because of their decision to close the door, to abandon her. He suffers no illusions and will not mince words with himself, that shutting that door four years ago was abandoning her. And he has no idea the amount of pain she could have been spared had they chosen differently, had he fought harder for his child. That is what a father should do, and yet he failed. His baby needed him, and he wasn't there.

Not only that, he marvels at how they believed Rumplestiltskin's claim that Emma would no longer be the Savior if they decided not to wait until she was a grown woman. Barely a teenager and the curse has been crumbling due to her mere presence and her stubborn persistence. David pictures that look of hope, the one he saw so often in Snow, and how Emma's is almost a mirror of that. So not only did he and Snow subject Emma to more suffering, but they prolonged that of their kingdom as well. Beyond question, shutting that door was a mistake. Again, something he will take to his grave before he ever informs his wife or daughter. Informing Snow that it was a mistake will only cause her the same pain he feels. Telling Emma will only jeopardize what he's attempting, slowly, to build.

Hook's ship is gone from the docks. Its familiar shape is no longer bobbing in the water or cutting the skyline. Perhaps Emma isn't making a mistake, placing her trust in a pirate. God, everything about that thought disturbs him. Jealousy churns in his gut as he realizes that his daughter, his baby girl, put her trust in another man, not her father. He recalls the look on Hook's face in the hospital and decides that perhaps, Emma is right to place her faith in him. Regardless of him being a pirate. David can't see the familiar form of the ship as Michael Tillman gives him a ride in the front of the tow truck back to town. In the front console sits a picture of the Zimmer kids, Nicholas and Ava. Hansel and Gretel, Tillman insists.

"The names their mother gave them. Not the ones that witch assigned."

"How are they adapting?" Tillman shrugs with a sigh.

"About as well as can be expected, I guess." He sighs. "They have no memory of me."

"I'm sorry," David answers. And he is sorry. And God, does he recognize the pain behind that sigh. He's experiencing it every day, himself. Every day since he woke up. Tillman shakes him off, shrugging and turning to look back at the road. The conversation shifts to something less personal, less painful.

"Look, I'll do what I can, but I think you completely totaled it. Not the only one in the last few days, either." David gives a questioning glance. "A few of us have tried to leave, especially after the Savior restored our hearts." Again, there's a tender glow of pride filling David's chest, competing with the raw feeling of dread and fear. His baby is a hero, and it almost got her killed. "We just want to live our lives. None of us wanted to get caught up in this mess. We can't leave. We're trapped here, now with two lives in our heads. If it's help with that you're looking for, the sheriff recommended Doctor Hopper. Though you may wanna call in an appointment fast. The guy's getting pretty booked these days."

Jiminy Cricket, the conscience, as a psychiatrist. It makes a certain amount of sense to David. He knows it made some sense to Emma, that 'the conscience would be a shrink'. She made that observation in the hospital, flipping through her storybook with a smirk that looked like a mix of his and Snow's.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"Of course." Tillman sighs. "There's a guy down by the docks who pays cash for scrap. If I end up not being able to fix this, which seems likely, is it okay if I sell to him? Pass along the cash?" David nods. As Tillman takes the damaged truck to the garage, David crosses the street and heads to Granny's. He's been staying here since the split with Katherine. Once or twice, Regina apparently tried to interfere, only for Granny to tell her off. According to Re-Ruby, in some colorful expletives too. It left David wondering exactly how much power the mayor holds in this town. Increasingly less so, since Emma came to town evidently. Once again, he experiences a burst of pride tinged with worry for his daughter. Pride for what she's accomplished mixes with worry for how Regina will retaliate, and profound sadness and bitterness that she had to shoulder that burden in the first place.

As David enters the diner, bell chiming to announce his arrival, planning on heading through to the bed-and-breakfast to collect his jacket before work, he spots Ruby. She's leaning against a table, twirling a red-streaked lock of hair around one finger, listening to the story of a young man with his back to David. Immediately, David's narrowed eyes burn into the back of the man's head. Brown hair, leather jacket, and apparently has a tendency to flirt with David's daughter. A crime he only knows about because of the pirate.

You can't kill him. Satisfying as it would be, you can't kill him. The man has done nothing else to draw his ire, but flirting with Emma should give David more than enough reason. The entire reason for pretending you're asleep is to prevent Regina from going after Snow and Emma. Killing a little bastard for the crime of flirting with your daughter is going to alert Regina that you're wide awake. It's only the fear of what may happen to Snow and Emma as a result that stays his hand. The bastard's discussing something David can't fully hear, something about travel on the other side of the country to an enraptured Red. Granny raps the counter with her knuckles and barks a few orders for Ruby to return to work. With a groan and a roll of her eyes, she complies. Frowning, David climbs the stairs two at a time, checking the clock on his way. He doesn't remember Red and her Granny fighting this much in the Enchanted Forest. The curse must have manufactured a lot, now that he thinks of it. Things got a bit contentious at times, according to Snow, but never this bad.

"God, this uniform sucks!"

"Well, if you'd untie it from right beneath your tits and stopped showing up in stripper heels, it wouldn't be so bad, now would it? For God's sake, Ruby, this is a diner. Families eat here. Kids eat here. Cover your ass!"

David overhears the tail end of a fight, as their voices round a corner, presumably to resume the argument in the kitchen and away from customers. Not that it usually stops them, or at least Ruby. Which, in turn, frequently sparks another argument between the two over the lack of professionalism shown by fighting in front of customers. He winces at a few of the invectives that come through loud and clear.

Grabbing his jacket, he sprints past the clock reading 7:10. Reaching the landing of the stairs, he hears the bell chime against the door and observes his true love enter the diner. She's flustered, in a hurry, but so beautiful. She plants herself at a table, quickly catches her breath, sweeping her raven hair across her forehead using a spoon to examine her reflection. He's enamored, regarding her with what must be a dopey grin on his face, but she's his true love. Sue him. David glances at the clock on the wall, then casually strides into the diner. Snow glances up from the book she's clearly not reading with pink coloring her cheeks and a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

Approaching the counter, he places an order for three coffees to-go, then nods as Granny curtly informs him it will be a few minutes. He turns to Snow, a helpless smile crossing his face and a lightness in his chest. No matter how terrible he feels, no matter what is happening, Snow will always have this impact on him.

"Good morning," he says.

Snow looks up, poorly feigning surprise at seeing him. "Morning!" she answers brightly.

They both grin at each other like lovesick fools. Granny scoffs, rolling her eyes.

Granny places the coffee cups on the counter as David hands over his money. He really should be going, especially now that he can't drive to work and has to walk. Regretfully, he cuts their conversation short. "Uh, I should go. I'm gonna be late for work."

"Oh, the animal shelter, right? How's that going?"

David grins. "Well, the apes haven't taken over."

"Yet," Snow grins back, playing along.

David laughs. "Not on my watch." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Granny rolling her eyes at their display, a sight familiar enough to give him a pang of nostalgia. Red smirks and winks at him. He collects the coffees and starts towards the door. He sees Ruby approach Snow's table and hesitates, just long enough to read their conversation.

'Quite the volcano. I can absolutely see the sparks flying.' Ruby teases.

'He comes here every morning at 7:15 AM to get coffee,' Snow sighs.

'Babe, I know. He lives here.' Ruby rolls her eyes.

'I know, I know. I just like to…come here to see him.'

'So, you're a stalker?' Red snarks back. Funny, Emma had accused him of something similar when he described his persistence with Snow in the hospital. Hook had encouraged him, praising him for fighting for what he wants, while his own daughter said he was being gross and weird. David still can't bite back the smile at Emma's reaction though. He gets the chance to see his baby as a teenager, when he believed he would only meet a grown woman. And his baby has an adorable attitude.

Snow backs down, appearing a touch defensive. David knows he really should be getting to work, especially with the longer commute time, but he wants to see this conversation play out. 'No, not really.' Red quirks an eyebrow, unimpressed with Snow's denial. 'Maybe a little bit. And it's not like I'm following him. I just know he starts work at the animal shelter at 7:30 and gets back here around 5:00.' Red's eyebrow climbs to join the other, which prompts Snow to continue. 'For a few days, he was spending most of his time off-work at the hospital, visiting the deputy. He said he wanted to help her like she helped him.'

'Is that all?' Red asks with a smirk.

'He's always gone on Thursdays.' Snow answers.

'And are you gonna do something about it?'

'Do something?' Snow asks, confused.

'Please. The flowers, the chocolates, the notes to your classroom, this guy wants you.'

For a moment, hope begins to expand and warm in David's chest as Snow's cheeks pink and her lips curl into a shy smile. She wants him too. Then, it all collapses and a feeling like ice water runs over David. Snow sighs, a slightly defeated look on her face, the sparkle dimming in her eyes. 'He's married. And I'm not going to be what breaks up his marriage with Katherine.'

'Puh-leeze! He's been staying here since he got out of the hospital. They're really not getting back together. Those Thursday nights that he's not here, he's stuck dealing with the DA mucking in his divorce. And he clearly wants you. So do something about that.' Ruby gives Mary Margaret a significant look David doubts he ever would have seen from Red in the Enchanted Forest. Snow gasps, drawing back slightly in shock.

'Ruby, I can't have him. He's married. I just wish I could get over him. I can't get him out of my head.' She sighs. 'Love's the worst. I wish there was a magic cure.'

Love! She said love! David may just whistle and skip the entire way to work, buoyed by something surpassing hope. She loves him. Snow is still in there, not buried far. If he can kiss her, maybe it will trigger her memories! Not like last time! This time, she loves him!

'You wanna get over him? Then get on top of him, or under him. Always works for me.' Ruby waggles her eyebrows with a wolfish grin. Snow gasps. Granny smacks Red's arm and barks for her to return to work. She does with a flip of her hair and a scoff. Snow's cheeks are a rosy pink as she tries hiding behind her book.

And on that note, with those images, David starts on his way to work. His mind wanders, forcing it away from images of him and his wife partaking in more intimate activities, and to what she said. They can't be together. She believes she can't have him. The curse seems to be working overtime on Snow, as it's failing in so many other aspects.

Neither Snow nor Mary Margaret would actively interfere in a marriage. And, as he remains in limbo, dealing with a dozen legal hoops to jump through to finalize his divorce with Katherine, he is still, technically, married. Or David Nolan is married.

He began the process the morning after he moved into Granny's, filing for a divorce petition. David chose the grounds of irreconcilable differences and incompatibility. David pats the pocket that holds the cheat-sheet from Emma. Irreconcilable differences, like David's memories of the Enchanted Forest and how they are both married to other people. Incompatibility, like the same incompatibility they realized back in the Enchanted Forest just before they were to be wed. It wouldn't put either party at fault and seemed straightforward. Not declaring one of them at fault would have made the process quicker and easier. Katherine still seems amenable to a divorce. She seems to want to get it over with, quite frankly. But somehow, the district attorney stuck his nose in. And it wasn't until David saw the bastard face-to-face that he realized why. Albert Spencer, or as he was known in the Enchanted Forest, King George.

David pauses the line of thought as he clocks in at the shelter, depositing the coffees in the break-room. He then continues the morning routine, taking two or three dogs at a time outside to do their business. He passes the day in a daze, taking care of the animals and feeling closer to his old home on the farm, the whole reason he took the job.

In the afternoon, when it's time to walk the dogs, he takes two at a time and makes the trip down to the docks. A brisk, salty breeze blows off the sea, exciting the dogs. He recalls Hook's words, that they'd be able to make the trip back, a few hours tops. But as he stops at the old boathouse, allowing the dogs to sniff their surroundings, he still doesn't see the ship. Defeated, he turns and walks back to the shelter. As he enters, Doctor Patton, the vet in the shelter this morning, whistles below his breath from his conversation with the Huntsman.

"Damn Nolan, you gonna give the dogs new legs?" David glances down to see both dogs eagerly lapping at the water bowl, drenching the floor more than they actually drink. The two, a retriever and a lab, are both panting, tails wagging sluggishly. He may have tired them out. David shakes his head, guiding the two back to the kennel and taking three more for a walk. "Where the hell are you walking them anyway?"

"The docks," he answers without emotion.

Graham glances over with an eyebrow elevated knowingly.

"They're not back yet," Graham whispers. David shakes his head in confirmation, not that it was a question. 'It may take a bit longer than either of them anticipated. But don't worry, they'll be back soon." Graham claps him on the shoulder to reassure him. "Emma's tough, she's made it this far. She'll be fine." He sighs, acknowledging the Huntsman is right.

In the meantime, before Emma comes back, he has a job to do. "Any luck yet?"

Graham glances over his shoulder, seeing the doctor has stepped out and it's just the two of them and the dogs. He sighs, shaking his head. "No luck. Frederick's picture in the storybook was, let's say, unhelpful."

"The storybook? The one that never leaves Emma's side?" David can hear his mounting anger in his voice.

The Huntsman nods. "The very same."

The confirmation provokes an uneasy feeling in David, worrying why Emma would leave it behind. Why she would leave it with the sheriff, and not on the Jolly Roger, unless her faith in the pirate isn't as unflappable as she suggested.

Because the pirate doesn't deserve that certainty Emma placed in him. He can feel his blood begin to boil. The no-good pirate is fucking lying to his daughter, lying to him, and doing God only knows what in this town in the first place.

The Huntsman seems to pick up on the trail that David's thoughts have followed, because he shakes his head. "Emma wasn't sure if she would need to make a fast getaway and couldn't risk leaving the book behind. Besides, if it's been helping her in breaking the curse, it may help us in her absence." David sighs angrily, grudgingly acknowledging the point. The Huntsman continues. "Anyway, I've been looking over city records, but without a name or a picture, I can't identify him." David nods his understanding. It's not like he's had much better luck.

"What about what we do know about him?" Graham shoots David a questioning side-eye. "We know Frederick was a knight back in our land. So he'd want to stay in shape here, something active."

"Unless the bitch wanted that cursed out of him," Graham points out, tone murderous.

David sighs, acknowledging the point and the likelihood. The dwarves, all brothers and extremely close, were now isolated. Red and her Granny, a loving family, now bickered with resentment and hatred. Snow, his beloved with fire in her eyes and a spine made of steel, now a meek pushover. Abigail, so confident within herself, so poised, now reliant on others for her self-worth and definition. Perhaps the same came true for Frederick.

Or perhaps not.

"There's a trail through the park that many people seem to take." Something that appears the closest to home, or at least in David's opinion. "I'm going to try there. Maybe we'll find him."

"Have you thought about introducing him to Katherine? Because that's going to be the next step." Graham states the obvious, something David honestly thought nothing of. But now that he does, he sees the complication. How is he going to introduce another man to his ex-wife?

David chuckles at the thought. "I'm not even sure Emma had that part solved."

Graham smiles and shakes his head, glancing up from filling water bowls. "To hear her tell it, she's going through all of this without a plan. Seems to be working out just fine." He sighs. "If you've got this handled, I need to get back to the station. I really, desperately want to find a case against Gold that Spencer can't throw out."

David nods, then processes what the sheriff's words mean. He frowns in confusion. "Wait, the Moe French case isn't open-and-shut?"

Graham shakes his head, mouth pinched in a thin frown. "Afraid not. Somehow, despite his extensive injuries and testimony, and security camera footage from four different cameras, the charges of kidnapping, assault and battery were dropped due to lack of evidence."

"Sounds like an abundance of evidence to me," David mutters.

"You'd think," the sheriff mutters in return. Frustration rolls off of the sheriff in waves.

"And I'll bet he's refusing to even acknowledge the arson at City Hall." The night the Dark One tried to set his daughter on fire, David thinks. Killing the Dark One may be a futile, suicidal endeavor, but after that night, David would be lying if he said he had not pondered the possibility. The sheriff taps the side of his nose in answer as he turns to leave.

Graham returns to the station while David walks a few dogs through the park, scrutinizing every face of everyone he passes. If this is the one thing he can do to help his daughter, then by God, he's going to do it. He completes one lap around the park, failing to discover the face he's seeking. He then returns to the shelter, returning the dogs and taking two more out on the same walk.

On this go-around, Spot, a beagle, stops and points. He's seen the hunting dogs back in the Enchanted Forest. He never presented the dogs a target, but it seems Spot may just be clairvoyant, because he's pointing right at Frederick. A fit man in his early thirties, doing pull-ups on a tree branch.

Goldilocks, a retriever, wags her tail like a flag, barking and trotting up to the man, pulling her leash from David's slack grip. Both dogs seem to be pulling for him. Frederick pauses, dropping from the tree and patting Goldilocks as David comes chasing up with Spot in tow.

"Sorry about that," he calls out with a wave and an amiable grin. Frederick shakes his head, raising to his full height while handing off the leash. "And thank you."

"No trouble," Frederick shrugs off, pushing hair out of his eyes.

David transfers both leashes to loop around his left hand, then offers his right to shake. Something he's found is a standard greeting in this land, something that was done between familiars in the Enchanted Forest. "David Nolan, nice to meet you."

Something David doesn't quite understand flashes through the other man's eyes at the name. Almost warily, Frederick does the same, extending his hand a bit more slowly. "Jim Fredericks." He glances at the dogs. "These yours?"

"Oh no. I work at the shelter. Just taking them for a walk."

"Ah. Nice day for it," they both look to the clear, blue sky. "Gym teacher at the school, myself." Jim Fredericks, the gym teacher who used to be Frederick. David can practically hear Emma's sarcastic remark and see her eyes roll in a similar manner to her mother. Definitely, in some aspects, the curse was truly lazy. David nods with a slight grin, pleased to have at least accomplished this much.

Spot begins to howl. Goldilocks sits, wiggling her tail and nudging her nose under David's hand for attention. "Well, I should probably get these two back to the shelter. Thank you again. And it was nice meeting you."

Again, there's another flash across the man's eyes. One second it's there, the next it's gone. David can't decipher it. If he were to hazard a guess, he might be inclined to label it guilt, but that makes no sense. He's never met Jim Fredericks before today. What would he have to feel guilty about?

"Same to you. Have a nice day." David makes the trip back to the animal shelter. Once there, he feeds the dogs, fills their water bowls and sends them out to relieve themselves before locking up and returning to Granny's.

Entering the diner, he spots Snow with her nose firmly in an upside-down book, determinedly not looking in his direction. Red nudges her as she passes by, shoving against her shoulder then nodding her chin in David's direction. He smiles as he sits at the counter two stools away from Snow. He doesn't see his true love smile back, but he does see her cheeks go pink.

Red scoffs and rolls her eyes at the two of them. "Idiots," he hears her mutter as her sky-high heels click off to clear a table. He muffles a smile, seeing Red squeamishly pick around the globs of ketchup on the customer's plate.

"Avoiding is the right thing to do, Ruby," he overhears his true love whispering as Red passes back behind the counter with the stack of dishes. Again, Red rolls her eyes.

"No, babe, it isn't." Ruby flips her long, brown hair over her shoulder and saunters up to David, notebook in hand. "So, David, you heading to the hospital again? Bringing in another to-go order? I can get the grilled cheese going in a minute."

"No, not tonight," he shakes his head with a gentle smile.

"Ah, yeah, the deputy was released a few days ago. Right. Forgot. Glad to hear she's okay, though." Red ends with a smile. He nods in agreement, his mind wandering. The deputy who, in another life that they never got to live, was Red's goddaughter. God, he wants his daughter back, and right now there's not a damn thing he can do about that.

David takes in the familiar smirk, thinking to himself what things would have been like, Emma growing up with her fun Auntie Red. Auntie Red likely would be the one to hear all about the boys David, her seven pickaxe-wielding uncles and crossbow-wielding great-grandmother would have scared off. Snow and Red would have helped Emma prepare for her first ball. David would have taught Emma how to ride a horse and how to swordfight. Snow would have passed along her ability to speak to birds and her affinity for archery. She would have learned how to smuggle sweets from the kitchens from the bandit Snow White, or learned to make them from recipes David remembered from his mother. Auntie Red would have taught her all about tracking in the woods, encouraging the young girl to go after whatever it was she wanted with everything she had. In that nursery he and Snow had devoted months to preparing, they would have taught Emma how to walk, how to talk. They would have seen her first steps, her first words, her first smile. They would be a family, all of them. If not for the curse, Emma would have… But that's not the life they're living right now.

"So, the usual?" He nods, shaking off his thoughts, as Ruby turns back to the kitchen.

He leans in closer to Snow. "Good evening," he greets with a smile on his face, forcing himself to shake off the melancholy of his thoughts. It does no good to dwell on what would have been if not for the curse. This is the world they're living in. These are their lives now. And even after the curse breaks, that impact will never go away.

The last thought causes more sadness than any 'would have been' ever has.

Snow turns, again feigning surprise. Her emerald eyes sparkle. "Good evening, David."

"How was work?" He asks.

"Oh, it was wonderful." Beaming with pride, she elaborates with minimal prompting. Snow's beaming smile entices one immediately to David's face, as always. "My students were presenting geography projects today. They had to make a map, using five different landforms they learned. They were all very creative. Such imaginations. These students were each creating their own worlds." Her eyes sparkle and crinkle at the corners as she describes the students in her class. "Then they read some stories they've been working on. Oh, you should hear them. Tales of knights, dragons, and true love. These stories almost felt real." She cuts herself off, eyes wide, as David wonders about the specifics of some of these tales. Perhaps some of them were more real than others. Stories told by their parents about knights and heroes in their home realm, their real world. Maybe, just maybe, some of her students still retained some unconscious ties to their homeland. "Oh, but what about you? How was the animal shelter?"

"It went well. The dogs are doing fine. Brandy just gave birth, so Doctor Patton was in, checking on her and the puppies." Snow's eyes soften at the mention of the puppies. David scoots closer, lessening the distance between them. "It was my turn to walk the dogs today. Nothing too exciting, though."

Red deposits their dinners in front of them with a satisfied smirk. This is how things could be in this land. Maybe we don't have the happy ending we envisioned. The future we wanted is gone. But maybe this, eating dinner and discussing our days, joined by our daughter, could be our happy ending.

"And everything's going well?" David nods.

"And the deputy? Emma? How's she doing?" Snow appears confused for a moment while David is overjoyed. "It's just, the oddest feeling, like I've met her before this town…" Snow's voice drifts off to a whisper, her hand brushing over her stomach, frowning slightly in thought. Her head tilts to the side, as it always does when she's deep in thought. There's something there. David can feel his heart stutter in excitement at the possibility. She shakes her head quickly. "But that's ridiculous. I've lived in Storybrooke all my life." Snow laughs uncomfortably, twisting her ring around her finger. "But, uh, how is she?"

David smiles. "She's, well, as far as I know, she's doing alright."

"As far as you know?" Her confusion is laced with worry.

"Our esteemed mayor managed to get her sent out of town," David grumbles. Snow looks concerned, then taken aback by the concern. David finds it encouraging, though, that she cares. Something in her cares for her daughter.

All too quickly, though, Snow shakes her head, face clearing to a more neutral expression. She asks about the other animals at the shelter to change the topic all too abruptly away from their daughter.

The conversation flows easily between them like that. Snow's eyes light up as she laughs. Her smile has never failed to enchant him. David sits, completely transfixed, staring at his true love like a fool. He has no idea how much time manages to pass. Could be five minutes, could be five hours. The bell chimes, announcing the door, before he hears the click of high heels on the linoleum. It helps that the diner seems to go silent at her entrance.

"Mister Nolan," Regina's simpering voice greets, "and Miss Blanchard." Her voice is noticeably harder as she 'greets' Snow in the same way one would greet an insect on their boot. David turns with a glare, reaching towards his belt for the sword that's no longer there.

"Good evening, Madam Mayor," Snow squeaks out with her eyes downcast. She glances at David, then at the lack of space between them. Her eyes widen and her face drains of color. As David reaches out to her, she flinches backward. A part of David's soul dies at that response. Releasing another frightened squeak, she jumps from her stool, stumbling as she fails to stick the landing and scurries off to pay for her meal. David returns his glare to the evil bitch that tried to kill his daughter and his wife.

"Yes?" she asks impatiently, feigning politeness.

There are no words. David grinds his jaw together, simply to hold his tongue. If he lets loose everything, all the truth he knows, he'll surely damn his daughter and his wife. His fist clenches against the countertop, knuckles white against the skin.

Play it safe, pretend you're still asleep. If you don't play it safe, Snow will die. Emma will die. If you don't play it safe, you leave Snow and Emma at her mercy. It is the fear sparked by both of those thoughts that stays his hand more than anything. David rigidly rises to his feet, rounds the counter, and pays for his meal without another word or another glance in Regina's direction. He directs his black glare forward, frightening a poor Ella who happens to be walking past, before he hears Regina call him back.

"Mister Nolan, a word?"

Simply at the sound of Regina's voice, David feels his muscles tense, readying for a fight. His heart thunders in his chest, blood and heat racing through him. Play it safe, he reminds himself, as once again that feeling of helpless rage simmers and burns inside of him. "How can I help you, Madam Mayor?" David somehow manages to clip out in a believable diplomatic tone.

"I'm just a bit concerned you're being too hasty about your divorce."

David tries to smile politely. He tries so hard to keep his rage as far from his expression as possible. But what he manages to pull to his face is more of a polite grimace. "I don't see how it's your business, Madam Mayor."

She offers an artificial, simpering smile. "Well, Katherine is my friend." I'm sure Abigail would not say the same of you, David thinks to himself. "And I'm concerned about her. I'm worried what will happen to her once you two split." There's just the slightest hint of a warning in Regina's tone.

In an instant, he's concerned for his ex-fiancee's safety. Abigail's safety honestly never factored into David's decision, mostly because it never occurred to him that his choice would place Abigail in jeopardy. While he's acutely aware Regina and Abigail are definitely not friends, that it's all a farce, she also has no real grudge against Abigail or Midas. It never occurred to David that Regina may take out her anger on Abigail, beyond cursing her to this realm, for David's actions. Abigail seemed mostly separated from all of this. Her feelings would almost definitely be hurt so long as she believed David to be her husband, but her life never seemed in danger. The hurt would end when the truth won out over the curse's lies.

"David, I wouldn't want you to throw away your marriage, your life, like this."

"I'm confident many things happen in this town that you wouldn't want." David grits the words through his teeth before he has a moment to reflect. In his anger, the words are out there. Something flashes in Regina's eyes, beyond the carefully crafted look of a poised politician.

She smirks. "Well, some things have happened that I haven't liked. A few disruptions to the peace here and there. But that's gone now. All taken care of." David clenches his fists around his arms to keep from striking her down where she stands.

Regina moves to reach out to him. As David draws a step back, he sees a slight flinch cross Regina's face. As wrong as it is, he takes a moment to relish her pain. Only a fraction of the pain she caused Emma.

"Katherine deserves someone who loves her." David states simply, quick to redirect from his all-too-revealing moment of anger. And that someone is her true love, Frederick. Now how to introduce his ex-wife to the gym teacher at his wife's work… "She's your friend, so you should care about her. Care about her enough that you want her to be with someone who loves her. You should want her to be with someone that makes her happy." For a moment, David realizes he's genuinely appealing to whatever better angels Regina still has, having managed to forget she has none.

"And that isn't you?" Regina asks with false sympathy, an affected innocent look in her eyes, and a fake pout. "You can't make her happy?" He's tempted to scoff at her words, as if Regina cares about anyone's happiness, including her own.

David shakes his head and speaks candidly. "I care about her. I want her to be happy. I just know that won't be with me. We're two different people, and we've been going down different paths. We were before the accident." David watches Regina's expression flicker briefly, revealing her irritation at his hastily constructed curse-identity. "And this isn't something I can meet her in the middle on. She's a good person, and she deserves the world. I'm just not the man to give it to her."

She sighs. "You're sure I can't change your mind?"

David nods. "Positive."

Regina simpers for a moment. "Well, that's a shame. A real shame it couldn't work out between the two of you." The threat is there, barely concealed and waiting for the proper moment. David clenches his fist around his arm, trying to prevent himself from reaching for a weapon. Anything will do. He wants to kill her. David didn't even want to kill Regina at her execution, but now he wants to kill her.

Detecting the movement, Regina reaches out and places her hand over the fist clenched around his arm. It requires all the strength David has not to instantly jerk away. "David, let me know if there's anything I can do to help you. It's like I told you. I am the one who found you, so, in a way, I feel responsible."

Gritting his teeth, struggling to maintain a polite facade, David steps away from Regina's hand. Each word she says ignites his rage even further. "Have a good evening, Madam Mayor." On that note, he steps around Regina and heads towards the room he's been renting since the separation from Katherine.

Lying in bed, he recalls in vivid detail his argument with Snow from that fateful day, all those years ago. David gave the order to the firing squad, and immediately Snow demanded that they stop. As the Blue Fairy stopped the arrows, mid-flight, Snow told him this wasn't the way with a disappointed look in her eyes.

Their fight began in the war council room. The same place where, hours before, he believed they were in agreement. So long as Regina was alive, the whole kingdom was in danger. The only thing to do, the only thing they could do, was to execute the Evil Queen. "Snow, I thought we agreed what had to be done. Instead, you show the Queen mercy? She doesn't deserve it. You heard her. She's completely unrepentant." Bluster or not, her only regret was that was unable to kill his fiancee, the future mother of his child.

Snow pleaded with him to see her side. "What I heard was a woman who didn't want to appear weak in her final moments."

Perhaps he was being too harsh to Snow, but Regina's words instantly sparked his protective anger. It was too far, too much for him. The image of Snow encased in a glass coffin, dead, has become burned behind his eyes. That image haunted him through the sleepless nights following the sleeping curse. "I've seen her kill. I've seen her terrorize. Every moment I've seen of her has been one of evil." Villages that had become funeral pyres, hills lined in the corpses of her victims, men, women, children, the elderly, none were spared. The terror Regina wrought was extensive, far-reaching and horrible.

"Exactly! That you've seen!" Snow insisted passionately. "But I knew her before. I knew her when she was good. She saved my life when I was a little girl."

David had heard this tale. While he is happy it occurred and that no harm came to Snow, it cannot be used to pardon everything he's seen Regina do. One good deed is not enough to excuse a lifetime of evil that followed. When the day comes when the Curse breaks, when Emma does succeed, he hopes Snow won't return to that reasoning again.

"She changed before. Why can't she change back?" He always admired her hope, her unfailing faith and belief and her determination to see the best in others, even when they didn't deserve it. But he can't help but think that Snow was looking for something that wasn't there.

"You can't be serious. You want to rehabilitate the Queen?"

"Maybe showing her mercy is the first step."

"But if you fail, the entire safety of the kingdom is at stake. We cannot take that risk." And it was at stake. The safety of the kingdom, the entire realm, their unborn child, everything they ever held dear was at stake. Snow knew that just as well as he did.

"You're so sure of her black soul? Sure enough to kill? Because there's no going back from killing." David would never have said this then, but he should have. They should have executed her. Had they killed Regina then, their daughter would have never had to be the Savior. She would have grown up with them. The kingdom wouldn't be continuing to suffer for a fight that was never really theirs in the first place.

There is no going back from killing. There would be no taking it back. But, with hindsight, he wouldn't take it back. In hindsight, knowing what failing to act cost everyone, they should have eliminated the threat to the kingdom and found a way to live with their own guilty consciences.

But, like a good true love and dutiful fiance, he supported her and stood by her wishes. "If you think this is the right thing to do, then it's what we shall do. But know that your path is one that we cannot come back from either." They would never again have that chance. Snow and he both knew the opportunity to stop Regina, once and for all, would never again present itself so easily. There was no going back.

He's been repeating that argument in his head since he admitted to the Huntsman and the pirate they had the chance to kill Regina and didn't take it. When he admitted to the two men that they should have seized that opportunity. Tonight, like most nights, he tosses and turns, wondering just how different things could be. His wife would be by his side. His daughter would be safely in the adjacent room. Perhaps another child or two, also safely asleep. His family would be safe under the same roof, is that too much to wish for?

One thing is certain. Choosing to show the evil witch mercy that day was a mistake they could not come back from. Executing her may have been a choice with no return, but failing to do so, and failing to mitigate the threat that Regina represented had no return either. David never believed he may be brought to a point where he regrets his wife showing mercy. But more and more, he wishes he had gone through with it. Put Regina to the sword himself and been done with it.

The choice Regina made that day inadvertently ensured she could never hurt Snow or David in that realm, the Enchanted Forest. Her threats as she interrupted their wedding to take them to an unknown land should have scared both David and Snow much more than they did. Instead, they found themselves on opposite sides of their previous argument.

Snow stormed into the war council room, still in her white dress, dismissing his pleas for her to listen in her anger. Her composure was a mask for their people, so they would not see their leader afraid. At the altar, she stood strong and unaffected, appearing calm at Regina's threat. Behind closed doors was where David would see her true reaction, her true feelings on the matter. "What can you say? What can you possibly say to make me feel better?"

Feigning offense, trying to alleviate her frustration, David answered. "We just got married. That should be enough." His own anger faded at the sight of hers, knowing in his heart that he should do anything to soothe her. His own fears, his own anger, they were secondary to hers.

"Regina found a way to ruin it. She always does. We have to do something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know! Storm her castle, seal her magic! There must be some way to fight back!" Snow desperately reached for something that could be done, some way to fight out of the corner Regina wanted to force them in. The threat of being ripped away from everything she loved made Snow want to fight to prevent it. Having faced the reality of the Sleeping Curse and the possibility of spending eternity separated from her loved ones, the thought of returning to that state terrified her more than she would ever tell anyone. That fear fueled her fight. It made David want to cherish the loved ones he had left. Having lost his family, having taken the steps to start a new one, he wanted to cherish them. How naive he was, to believe that succeeding in taking back the kingdom and fighting off Regina and George would be the end of it.

"She can't hurt us. You know that." David rather naively tried reassuring Snow. His wife had taken the rather bold, risky path of making a deal with Rumplestiltskin. Now, years later, David identifies why Rumplestiltskin wanted to ensure his and Snow's survival as well as Regina's. All three were instrumental in his plans. Fan of true love, his rear end. Fan of what it creates, that David will believe. What their true love created is proving useful to the Dark One. Regina couldn't harm them in the Enchanted Forest. How naive he had been to believe that the threat to take them to a world where she could do them harm had been empty.

"I know that she is determined. And so am I."

"Snow, she wants to take away our happiness. We can't win that fight on a battlefield." After fighting to take back the kingdom from Regina and George over the course of their engagement, they had fought for their happiness on the battlefield.

"No? So how do you suggest we win it?" Snow snapped back.

"By going on our honeymoon." He took hold of her arms, smiling in a way intended to be calming. At that moment, he took to heart the lessons of Snow White in leading a kingdom. Their people needed hope. If their leaders lost their minds with worry over the curse, it would send a message. So to would continuing to live their lives. They would send a message that all was fine to their people. In hindsight, David sees all too clearly how naive and delusional he was. He was irresponsible to believe in continuing with their lives as if Regina's threats bore as much substance as the paper they were written on.

"What?!" Snow seemed almost outraged at the thought.

"That's the only way to show Regina that nothing she does can take away our happiness."

"How can you even think about leaving the kingdom after the kind of threat she made?"

"Threats, that's all they were. I mean, for all we know, that was just bluster." Stupid. He had been so stupid. Hindsight leaves him annoyed with himself over his own idiocy, believing Regina's threats were insubstantial and a non-issue. But that kind of power? Enough power to rip the kingdom to a completely different world? That kind of power remains beyond his comprehension, even as he lies here in the Land without Magic.

"She finds a way. She always finds a way!"

"And then we will be ready. But for today, it was just a threat."

It wasn't just a threat. It was a declaration of intent. It should have been considered a declaration of war. Simply because Regina couldn't harm him or Snow in the Enchanted Forest didn't prevent her from harming the rest of the population. It didn't prevent her from destroying the realm and ripping them all to a new world, where no one was safe. They should have made good on the threat issued when Regina was exiled instead of executed.

He spends the rest of the night, tossing and turning, the same arguments and memories filtering through his mind. All the would haves, could have, and should haves. If it weren't for those, he'd have his family right now. Not fourteen years that they'll never get back.

The next day passes just about the same. David meets Snow in the diner, except now she barely meets his eyes. As he gently tries to engage her in conversation, she shrugs him off. Meeting Red's eyes across the counter, she shrugs with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"Take a hint and move on, Charming." A gruff, grumpy voice barks. David almost jumps out of his skin when he turns to see Grumpy a few seats down at the counter. Hope feels muted by shock for a moment as David begins to consider the possibility that others are awake. Had Regina been holding Grumpy's heart? Was it time spent around Emma? Did something happen to wake Grumpy from the curse? His burgeoning hope must show on his face as Leroy scowls at him, not even a hint of the abiding affection from the Enchanted Forest. "You look pathetic, pining over love." He drags the word out as if it's some kind of disease. Something in that confirms for David that no, Grumpy isn't awake. Just the way Prince Charming became a figment of popular culture. The bell chimes behind Leroy as he leaves.

His mood worsens as he collects the to-go cups and pays at the till, Snow still barely acknowledging him, despite feeling her eyes on him. David realizes along the walk to work that he should have known better. To Grumpy, he was always 'pretty boy', 'social-climbing shepherd' or 'Prince James'. There were some other choice invectives in there, but those mostly fizzled out after he and Snow got married. Never Charming. That was reserved for Snow. He takes coffee into the shelter, greeting Doctor Patton as he slides a small section of Scotch tape into a slide for a microscope.

"Franco has been licking his paws nonstop since I got in," is all the man offers in explanation. The dog in question glances up from doing exactly that on the mat next to the doctor with a soft bark in way of greeting. David nods, mentioning the coffee in the breakroom.

He takes the dogs, two and three at a time, outside to relieve themselves. He then walks them in twos and threes down to the docks. At the end of each lap, the sun climbing higher in the sky above him, he feels his hope die a little inside. His chest collapses inward a bit more each time. They should be back by now. What's keeping them? What the hell could be happening? It's growing increasingly harder to cope with the dreadful feeling rooted in his chest. Something terrible is happening, or going to happen. Something is going to hurt his girls.

If that fucking pirate hurt her, if he even touches her, I'll…

You'll what? A voice in his head taunts with a sneer. You can't hunt him down. You can't follow him. He could be torturing her, just past the town line, and there wouldn't be a damned thing you could do about it. You can't cross over, remember? You're bound here, depending on a pirate. A blood-thirsty, notorious pirate like Captain Hook.

You're toothless. If he hurts her, if he does anything to her, there's no way you can cross the town line. You're stuck here, hoping and praying for the best, because you're pathetic. There's nothing you can do to actually protect Emma, not from here.

Emma trusts him.

It's your job as her father to keep her away from those she shouldn't trust, like the fucking pirate. Emma's been wrong about who to trust before in her life, and more than likely, she's wrong about Hook. But there's not a damn thing I can do about getting her away from him now.

His thoughts continue to spiral as he sees the Huntsman step in.

"They still haven't returned. I found Frederick." David briefly summarizes the meeting the day before. Graham nods, assuring David that he'll look further into the man. "And Hook?" Graham sighs.

"Look, aside from harassing Mr. Gold and a few complaints from staff in the hospital about disregarding visiting hours, because he refused to leave Emma alone, he's been clean. I've seen nothing to suggest he would harm Emma. She's safe with him." The Huntsman insists.

She's safe with him. Those words run on a loop in David's mind for the rest of the day. Rather than reassuring him, they send him into a spiral. Because she's safe with another man, who isn't her father. Another man stepping in and doing David should be. Because he's relying on another man to protect his baby.

His conversation at dinner with Snow is stilted. Tonight, he remembers to bring flowers, though. The closest he can find to snow bells. Snow's blush upon receiving them makes the day so much better. But their talk after flops, rather than running smoothly. Her smile is forced and awkward, and David isn't much better. Snow continues her nervous habit of turning her wedding ring around her finger.

David has no idea what happened. He thought things were progressing with Snow. She never sounded this nervous around him. Even back when she could barely tolerate him, spitting out the word 'Charming' as an insult, it wasn't this tense. He can't imagine what to do to get back to where they were.

In the middle of a lull, Doctor Whale comes by with a crooked, suave smile. Unluckily for him, he receives the full force of David's glare, since he can't take it out on Regina nor on Hook. Instantly, Doctor Whale gets the hint and scampers away. Red winks at him from behind the counter, smirking in approval.

Following an awkwardly silent dinner, one where the weight of the lack of conversation is stifling, David needs to take a walk. He offers to walk Snow home, something he does every night. As usual, she declines. But this time, unlike the others, she looks over either shoulder before doing so. David's confused as he leaves the diner, the bell ringing behind him.

His feet direct him to the docks before he even realizes how he got there. For a moment, he watches the waves roll in the harbor as the shift turns over at the cannery and fishing boats return for the evening. The setting sun at his back casts a deep orange glow across the harbor, leaving long shadows stretching out to sea.

Hook came by sea. He left by sea. Maybe I can as well. The idea begins gaining momentum as it turns over in David's mind. Maybe whatever wall exists around the town doesn't exist at sea. I can find a sea route out of town. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth before he realizes it. Hope begins to lighten his chest as he finds a boat marked as property of the sheriff's station. He'll ask forgiveness later. Quite possibly, he'll spend a few nights behind bars for it later. Right now, he has a way to get to his daughter and has to take it. If there's even the slightest chance, he has to take it.

If this doesn't work, if it goes the same way as my truck at the border, I'll cover the cost of the repair to make up for it.

He barely entertains the thought, however. Not because he'll filch on the debt for property he commandeered and subsequently damaged. He's not a pirate after all, despite his current actions to the contrary. Rather, David refuses to consider the possibility that this won't work. That he may be unable to cross the barrier out to sea. That there may be a barrier around the entire town that he cannot cross. That no one who was cursed can.

There has to be a way to Emma.

Untying the boat from the docks, David climbs in and moves to the helm, stumbling slightly with the rocking of the waves underfoot. The ground beneath him should be steady. Regardless, the rocking of the waves in the harbor cause the boat to drift slowly from the dock. He pulls up suddenly when seeing that this boat needs keys, which he does not have. Too far gone to come up short now, David checks the surrounding boards, the seats, anywhere there might be hold space. In the fifth place he searches, under the captain's chair, he retrieves a set of keys.

Turning over the engine, he sighs in relief. Admittedly, David knows precious little about sailing and only slightly more about internal combustion engines. But he doesn't need to be an expert on either. He merely needs to cross the town line by sea. From there, he can reach land. He steers towards the gap in the harbor wall, pushing the engine as hard as he feels he can go.

Salty spray splashes in his face as he races over the waves. Wind whips past him, roaring in his ears. David can feel his heart pounding. Excitement hums in his nerves. He's on his way. He's going to find Emma. He looks beyond the harbor wall, to the open, rolling sea. Nothing but rippling waves until they strike the horizon. It's an open expanse. No barrier.

Cutting across the waves, David can feel it. It's as if there is still a line attached to the boat, tethering him to the docks. As hard as he pushes the engine forward, the line jerks him back that much harder. He searches the boat, but finds nothing. He released the lines tethering him to the docks. There should be nothing. Which means the resistance he's feeling is the work of the curse. There isn't a sea route out of town. David can feel his chest start to collapse inward once more, that glowing hope reduced to a dying ember as the line reels him backward.

Not even reaching beyond the harbor wall, David steers the boat around and returns to shore. He ties off the lines mechanically and returns to Granny's robotically. The sky overhead has turned indigo, spotted with stars. His path is lit by streetlights he hardly notices.

There is no way to Emma.

He hates giving up. It's surrender. He knows that's what it is, but he has no other choice. Other than denying reality and continuing his fruitless, futile, hopeless attempts to reunite his family. He returns to a night at Granny's of tossing and turning, pacing when that gets too repetitive. At some point around three in the morning, he finally gives in and lies down for a night of uneasy sleep.

The next morning, he's woken at the crack of dawn by the phone ringing. Frowning, he stares at the device for a moment or two before he wakes enough to remember he must answer it. It could be some good news. Or, based on his experience, bad news that he'll spend his life regretting it if he doesn't get his ass out of bed and answer the phone. Clumsily pushing the button and smothering a yawn, he answers, "Hello?"

"David?" Instantly, he's alert, sitting upright on the bed with a smile spreading across his face. She sounds okay. Safe. Alive. "Hey, uh, David, this is your number, right? I only barely remembered the one for Granny's diner and I don't have that many quarters left."

"Yeah, kiddo, it's me." Her voice crackles with the distance. He can hear the sound of car horns in the background of the call.

"Cool. Payphone by the docks. Just, uh, wanted to say we're gonna be on our way back. I uh, I got held up at the foster home, but we're heading out." Something in her voice sounds sheepish, guilty. Like she's hiding something. She might be worse at keeping secrets than her mother. What the hell is she hiding?

"Emma, what happened?" David hears his voice hardening. His skyrocketing temper causes him to throw off the covers and storm around the room, seeking a target to vent his frustration. His hand is still healing from the last time he took out his frustrations on a wall, but by God, it's the only thing available to him. "Did Hook do something? What the hell did the damn pirate do? I swear to God, I'll kill that fucking pirate! If he so much as lays a finger on you, I'll remove the one hand he has! I swear to God-"

"No! David, stop!" Emma shouts, quickly cutting off his tirade. He simmers down, grumbling under his breath. "Jones didn't hurt me. He wouldn't hurt me." David's not so confident. Definitely not as sure as Emma sounds. "Hell, he's the one who said I should call you before we left. You really think he'd tell me to do that, after what? Holding me hostage or something?" For a moment, he's stunned. Maybe I jumped to conclusions too quickly. Maybe I'm taking out my own issues on Hook. Both ends of the line are silent for a moment, save the background noise in Boston. "Look, the call's gonna cut out here in a minute or so, I just wanted to… well, I didn't want you to, like, wonder or anything. Cuz we said we'd be back a few days ago and we're, well, yeah."

David sighs and almost chuckles at the rambling. He would if he didn't know she rambles when she gets uncomfortable. "Thank you, for letting me know. And hey, be safe." Her words finally fully sink into his exhausted mind. "Hook told you to call?"

"Yeah. He said you'd probably wanna hear me and not him."

"Well, he was right about that," David mutters. Emma laughs on the other end of the line. He groans, knowing the following words will be torture. "You'll never hear me say this again, but do as Hook says."

He can hear her smirk on the other end of the line. "How'd that taste?"

"Terrible, if you must know." Even with the crackling of the phone, his baby's laugh is still music to his ears. "But I'm serious. Hook knows how to sail. Do as he says, it should keep you safe."

"I will. We'll be safe."

"Oh! I managed to find Frederick!" David informs her quickly.

"Really? Where? Who is he?"

"Jim Fredericks, the gym teacher at the school." He deadpans.

"Seriously?" David can practically hear the eye roll, even through the static feedback.

"Yep, seriously."

"Well, hey, it's awesome you found him."

"Now how do we get him and Abigail together?" David ponders.

"Lock 'em in a room together?" David chuckles at the tactless plan. It sounds like something he would think of. Maybe it fills him with more than a touch of pride to know Emma takes after him as well. "School gym, dim the lights. Works for school dances. Kids get up to all kinds of naughty stuff. Old people can too." She sighs and mutters a curse under her breath. "I gotta go. Phone's gonna cut out. Bye. See you sometime later today, maybe tomorrow at the latest." The phone clicks before David can respond. So he says the words into the silent darkness of his room.

"I love you, sweetheart."

One day, he'll be sure to say those words to her. Words he's almost certain she hasn't heard nearly often enough in her short life. Words he'll tell her every day, several times a day, as soon as he sees he has a chance. Something she'll believe from him, that he'll prove to her, if it's the last thing he does.

A few hours later, David walks to work, to-go coffee cups in hand. Snow refused to even meet his eyes, despite the fact that he could feel her eyes on him. Her smile can't throw off the growing depression. He continues walking the dogs, in twos and threes, down to the docks, searching for the silhouette of a pirate ship to no avail. The dogs are exhausted but happy by the afternoon. The news plays in the background, informing him of a massive incoming storm system coming south down the coast from Canada. Despite the incoming storm and the darkening sky, David sees the sun again as Snow enters the shelter with an injured bird in hand.

Doctor Patton tends to the dove, gently releasing it from the plastic netting it somehow got caught in, then moving to tend to its wings and body. David generally tries to stay out of the way while offering assistance and remaining close to a true love who won't meet his eyes. As the doctor works, Snow explains how she found her on a walk in the woods. There's a small spark of his true love there, he knows it. She would never leave anyone or anything to suffer, not if she could do something about it, and he loves her for it. As he finishes, Doctor Patton debriefs Snow.

"Well, the good news is, no broken bones." David smiles at the reassuring news. Snow still looks uncomfortable, standing in the vet's office. "She was just a little dehydrated, but I got her some fluids and she should be just fine."

"And the bad news?" Snow asks uneasily.

"Well, this is a north Atlantic dove. It's a migratory species. Very unique among American doves. They tend to form strong, monogamous bonds, meaning-"

"If I don't get her back to her flock, she'll be alone forever," Snow concludes sadly.

"Well, it's a long shot, but the alternatives…" Doctor Patton gently guides the dove into a cage. "She'll heal, but she won't be happy here."

Snow squares her shoulders, taking up the cage. Already, David can follow the plan forming in her mind. "I'll take my chances. Thank you, doctor." Doctor Patton nods as he goes to check on Franco and Brandy. Snow turns to leave as well.

"Sn- Mary Margaret!" She stops, but doesn't turn to look at him. God, why won't she even look at him? What did he do? What happened to destroy the relationship he's been trying to build? "There's a storm coming. You really shouldn't go out there." David warns, or pleads.

"Well, the storm's coming tomorrow. If I wait, she could be lost forever. Completely alone. No one deserves that." Snow answers sadly while watching the dove in the cage.

"Then let me drive you," David offers, already reaching for his jacket and keys.

"I don't need your help, David. I'll be fine." She rejects the offer with a gentle smile that doesn't reach her eyes and doesn't soften the blow. On that note, Snow leaves, taking the dove and his heart with her. Feeling like a helpless idiot, an all-too-common feeling these days, David sighs as he stands at the counter, turning a delicate, white feather over in his hands.

Leaving the dogs out to do their business, he spots the Huntsman loading supplies into the back of a cruiser, preparing for the oncoming weather. He spots Regina sauntering up to the cruiser with her usual sneer. From the distance, David can overhear the two speaking.

"Sheriff, I need you to look into something. Someone's in town. Someone new."

Even from across the road, David can feel the hatred of the Huntsman's glare in response.

Regina continues unaffected. "I don't know who he is. I asked around, but no one seems to know anything. There's something about him. Something familiar."

"He must be one of the untold millions you cursed," the Huntsman replies as he slams the trunk of the cruiser. Regina seems to blanch, backing away slightly.

"What?"

Graham shakes his head. "You know, as hard as you tried to find one in Emma and Captain Jones' case, there is no law against visiting Storybrooke. It's a free country, Madam Mayor. Now, if you'll excuse me." He steps briskly around to the driver's door of the cruiser. Regina confronts him there, hand already over the door handle.

"I need you to find out who he is, what he wants, and what he's doing here. This isn't about the law, Sheriff. You're going to do this because I asked you to."

Graham pauses with a burning glare in Regina's direction. "Why on Earth would I do it, simply because you asked me to? Madam Mayor, my job is to enforce the law, not to be your personal enforcer. You want a background on someone? Seems your lackey at the paper does a decent job digging up dirt and has no qualms about matters of legality. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do." Graham slams the door behind him, driving off quickly, leaving a stunned Regina standing in his wake.

The wind begins to pick up, howling through the trees. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Lightning sparks in the clouds above them. The sky turns threatening as the clouds start to churn like a potion in a witch's cauldron.

He refuses to feel helpless when it comes to both Snow and Emma. Their safety means more to him than words can describe. While there is nothing he can do for Emma, as she's most definitely at sea by now and can't be reached by phone, he can help protect Snow.

Thinking quickly, David heads out to the most likely route Snow would have taken back to the woods. She would have retraced her steps. David runs on foot, rain beginning to pound the pavement and the wind kicking up as he does. Each raindrop hits like a pellet, icy chill soaking into his bones by the time he reaches the woods. His boots splash through puddles along the path as the paved road turns to gravel. Mud splashes up his legs and soaks his pants, chilling his legs. Still, David runs until he sees a familiar station wagon parked on the side of the road just before a barrier.

David sighs, recognizing his wife's stubbornness in the muddy imprints of boots moving past the barrier, and so he follows. He will always find her. He continues his pace, breath beginning to escape in pants, each exhale visibly fogging. The wind bends the higher limbs of the trees. Rain pelts down from overhead. It's growing progressively too dark to see. Freezing water pouring down his face, David continues following what he can identify of his wife's footsteps as she tried to find the flock.

In the distance, over the roaring wind, the snapping of tree limbs, and the pelting rain, he hears a cry that sounds too familiar. It jolts him forward with a burst of adrenaline and fear. He knows that voice. Somewhere, maybe five hundred yards ahead of him, Snow is in peril.

David sprints forward, tearing through the muck as he charges towards his wife. He reaches the end of the dirt road to find a clearing. At first, all he can see is a small, metal birdcage that still holds the dove. David's eyes dart around, searching for a sign of his wife.

"Ah!" He hears her voice cry out, head jerking in the direction of the cliff. Eyes wide in fear, he runs as close as he can get, drops to the ground and reaches out. Snow is dangling from a branch, precariously holding on. Ice cold panic runs down his spine as he reaches out, taking hold of her wrist.

"Here!" he shouts over the noise.

"David!" She sounds a mix of surprised and relieved.

"Grab my hand!" Eyes darting between the branch and his extended hand, Snow reaches out, grabbing a hold of him. "Hold tight! Come on." Gripping her hand as tightly as he can, he hauls Snow up the side of the cliff to safety. As she reaches solid ground, David pulls her even closer, into the safety of his arms.

God. The panic at hearing her calls of distress, the fear at seeing her dangling over a cliff, all resolved with the feeling of her in his arms, chest to chest. Both are soaking wet and freezing cold. He feels her trembling against him. But God! She's safe.

As soon as he knows she's safe, the surprise of her earlier tone registers with him. "You really think I'd let you come out here alone?" He asks, trying to meet her eyes. "You okay?"

Immediately, Snow stiffens, pulling away from him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." Out of his arms, she strides up the incline, back to where she left the dove, David on her heels.

"Where are you going?" he demands.

"I came to find the flock!" His stubborn, beautiful, frustrating, amazing wife.

"And I came here to get you before you got hurt. We have to go!" The torrential rain continues falling in curtains around them, completely unprotected in the clearing. Lightning splits the sky. Three seconds later, thunder rumbles. Snow blinks the rainwater from her eyes, staring out over the cliffside, attempting to see into what appears dark as night.

"No!" she protests.

"Doing this on foot is not the best plan," David argues, attempting to make her see sense.

"The gate was closed," Snow answers.

"I know, I saw. It's too late. We have to go."

"No! But the flock!"

"Mary Margaret, it's not safe. We need to get out of here. Come on!" Finally, his wife nods, tucking the bird cage under her coat and accepting his arm around her shoulders as he steers them to find shelter from the storm.

They stumble along muddy paths, slipping a few times, but never letting the other fall. Each time David catches her, Snow stiffly but politely thanks him, then all too quickly extricates herself from his arms. He sighs, hastening her along. If he's wet and cold, she must be as well.

In the distance, David spots a place, mostly just a box-shaped shadow against other shadows. "There!" He indicates, blinking rapidly against the rain water running down his face. "Come on!" He hurries her over to it. They both run through the rain pouring down their backs to the front door, scanning inside through the front window.

"Hello? Hello, is anyone in there?" Snow calls, knocking on the door. "It's empty, she concludes after a few more attempts remain unanswered. From his own observations, David arrives at the same conclusion.

It's the only shelter they've managed to find, and it doesn't seem the storm is going to let up any time soon. Rain lashes at their backs. The cold wind howls through the trees, battering against them. Snow is shivering violently, her skin more pale than normal. He is freezing as well. David steps over to the door and kicks it open. The door crashes against the wall with a bang. Both rush inside.

While protected from the wind and the rain, the inside of the cabin isn't much warmer than the outside. Quickly, David sparks some kindling, getting a fire blazing. Flickering orange light illuminates the cabin. Warmth slowly begins suffusing the small space, even as the wind howls outside. Curtains of rain continue to lash against the windows of the cabin. Trees bend and sway against the force of it.

"Okay, let's get you dry." His own discomfort is secondary to hers as he sees Snow try to control her shaking.

She searches the cabin's interior, taking in the couch and blankets. "Whose cabin is this? Are you sure it's okay for us to be in here?" She sounds uneasy, eyes darting around, arms wrapping around herself, seemingly both against the chill and her self-consciousness.

"Well, we're both good friends with the Sheriff, so I doubt he'll arrest us for breaking and entering." He answers jokingly, shooting Snow the crooked smile he knows she used to love.

"David!" Snow gasps, outraged. Some humor sparks in her eyes, however.

"Here," David says, gently reaching out and laying a blanket around Snow's shoulders. She shrugs it off, shaking her head in agitation, stepping away from him and closer to the fire. "Sn- Hey, I'm just… I'm just trying to help. What's going on with you today?"

"What's going on?" Snow laughs without humor, facing the ceiling as if praying for strength. "What's going on is I still have feelings for you."

"What?" David whispers, wanting her to continue.

"Why do you think I go to Granny's every morning at seven fifteen? It's to see you. I don't even know why, because it just makes me miserable. Because every time I see you, it just reminds me that you chose Katherine instead of me." David wants to interject and say that he never chose Katherine, but Snow just keeps right on going. "And that's why I didn't want you to come to the woods with me. Because being around you is too… it's too painful."

His sigh in response seems to sound too much like a chuckle.

"You think this is funny?" Snow draws back, hurt shining in her eyes.

"No. It's just…the reason I go to Granny's every morning at seven fifteen is to see you." David hadn't even noticed how close they managed to get as they spoke. Suddenly, they are inches away, leaning in closer and closer. Both are leaning in for a kiss, but Snow stops, leaning back with a confused frown furrowing her brow.

"How can you do this?" she demands.

"What are you talking about?"

"David, I know." Those words could mean a lot of things. David jumped to conclusions all too quickly with Grumpy. But even the chance of one possible meaning of those words has a balloon of hope expanding in David's chest.

"You know what?" He asks carefully, knowing the next words might shatter him.

"About Katherine." Her words cause a sense of whiplash in David.

"What about Katherine?" David prompts, confused.

"That she thinks she's pregnant." Snow appears hurt by the possibility. David feels as if he's been knocked over the head with a log again.

"What?" His shocked response hangs in the air between them for a few beats.

It erases the hurt from Snow's eyes. She slowly draws back. "You didn't know."

"No," he shakes his head, trying to assure her of his sincerity.

"And you two aren't trying…?" she prompts.

"Not as far as I know," David mutters. The remaining shock and confusion causes him to be flippant with his tone. Snow glares, crossing her arms across her chest. He sighs before elaborating. "Katherine and I have been trying to file for a divorce for a few weeks. I went back to, I guess I'll call it home for the sake of discussion, after the hospital. I was only there for a night or two. Nothing happened. We talked a bit, definitely not about kids, but nothing felt right with her." Now it is Snow's turn to look as though she's been knocked over the head.

Gnawing her lip and twisting her ring in thought, Snow begins to pace as she mentally processes David's revelation. After a few laps made in silence, she turns to David. "So you've been genuine with the…?"

"Flowers? Notes? Chocolate? Yes, I have been. Completely."

"And you're separated?" she repeats over the sound of the rain.

"Yes."

"And not getting back together?"

"Correct," David answers, moving slowly closer to his wife.

"And the divorce? You haven't talked much about it, at dinners."

He nods. "Didn't seem like a great topic of conversation." Snow shrugs, prompting him to continue. So with a sigh, scrubbing a hand down his wet face, he does. "There's always some ordinance of the mayor's, or the district attorney has found some new issue, to delay the process. It should be over with by now, except Spencer is dragging his feet and Regina is poking her nose in. Officially, legally, I'm still married until the petition gets filed and goes through the court. Katherine doesn't really want anything from me. I don't really want anything from her. So as far as she and I are concerned, it's over."

"And you're not upset?" Snow asks gently.

"Upset about what? Katherine moving on?" She nods. "No," he answers simply, sincerely. "I'm not upset. I'm actually happy for her. Wish her the best." Snow furrows her brow and crinkles her nose at that. David smiles softly at the behavior, knowing it well, and now knowing that their daughter inherited it.

"Why?"

David shrugs. "She's a good person. We're just not right for each other. I do hope she finds happiness with someone else though. She deserves it, even though she won't find it with me."

They sit in easy peace, watching the flickering of the flames in the fireplace, listening to the rain pounding from overhead. Eventually, as they sit on the couch, Snow allows David to put a blanket and an arm around her shoulders to ward off the chill. They wait out the storm, telling stories, her of her students, him of the animals in the shelter. He tries to keep his mind off of a ship tossing about in this weather.

Slowly, as the conversation wanes, the rain begins to taper off. The harsh winds battering the cabin die down. From outside the cabin, they begin to hear the sound of birds chirping, reminding them both of their silent companion and the mission that brought them out here.

"We need to get her out," Snow insists.

"No, Mary Margaret-"

Disregarding his words, Snow scoops up the dove's cage and practically runs out the door. David quickly follows her, pleading for her to come back inside where it's safe and warm. He follows her the entire way to the clearing, watching every step she makes like a hawk.

She hushes him, telling him to listen. In the forest below them, they hear the sound of cooing. Up above, in the pearl gray sky, they spot several doves flying past. "The flock, it didn't leave!"

"They must have been waiting for the storm to clear."

Snow gently sets the cage on the ground, carefully extracting the dove from inside. "Okay, okay girl. Time to join your friends. You can do it," she quietly coos to the bird. She releases the dove and watches it fly off with a beaming smile as it joins its flock.

David smiles softly at her, reaching out to take her hand. His touch seems to jolt her, as her green eyes meet his own. But the smile hasn't left her face and David takes that as a good sign. Slowly, making his intent as clear as he can without saying the words, he leans forward. The hand not holding Snow's brushes her hair across her forehead with a feather-light touch, continuing down the apple of her cheek. He feels a bit of satisfaction, watching her cheek pink under his touch.

Snow leans in closer as well, gripping the hair at the back of his neck with her free hand, pulling him in closer. He's all too happy to oblige. They move closer, to the point of sharing each other's air, foreheads leaning against each other's. Snow's eyes begin to flutter shut as David slowly moves in closer.

Their lips meet, soft as butterfly wings. Once again, he feels a pulse of pure love between them. Snow jumps back quickly, as if shocked, staring at him with wide eyes. David waits, standing on the precipice, taking in every detail as if in slow motion. Every twitch of Snow's face fills him equally with elation and dread at the possibility. He won't even think the words, lest they prove to be wrong. He doesn't think he could take that kind of disappointment.

Her eyes slowly widen, her smile growing to split her face. Tears brim at the corners of her eyes. Her hands stroke his cheeks. Her eyes dart across his face, up and down his body, as if confirming he is real. Finally, her right hand drifts across his shoulder, down to below his rib cage, over the scars he earned defending their newborn daughter. Scars Mary Margaret has never seen. Scars of injuries that would have been the last thing his wife saw before the curse took them all those years ago. The sun may still be hidden behind storm clouds. They stand in the eye of the storm, but the light of Snow's smile is blinding.

"Charming," she whispers, and he's never been happier to hear that nickname in his life.

"Snow," he whispers reverently, pulling her closer into his arms, never wanting to let go, crushing his lips against hers. Both of them grin into the kiss, eventually tasting the salt of their tears, though unsure of whose tears they are.