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natromanxoff · 3 years

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Mercury Roadrunner's Interview about Freddie Mercury with Peter Freestone – Part III

Thanks very much to Mercury Roadrunner (Pavel Strashnyy) for letting me share his amazing interviews! Originally shared here. Check the tag "MR interview with Phoebe" to see the other parts.

Here are the 6 main topics of this interview, beginning of each topic is written in bold:

1. Freddie's clothes and beliefs, drugging story

2. Freddie's family

3. South American tour

4. Memories about Brian, Roger and John

5. Books, plays and opera

6. Before and after concerts, Michael Jackson, first memory about Freddie, what how would it be if he was still alive?

PS: So, here is our third part, and the first topic is about Freddie’s clothes for concerts. On the Hot Space tour, we can see arrows in Freddie’s clothes. What was so special for Freddie about these arrows?

PF: I don’t know. It’s just something that got into his mind. They are also in the video for “Body Language.” I think it’s just something that fascinated him at the time. He just decided he liked arrows.

PS: I see. And where exactly did you source all those arrowed vests and jackets for him, for concerts?

PF: They were actually all made in America, they were made for him. They bought the T-shirts and painted them on. And with the leather jackets and the other jackets, they just made them. There was that one big jacket he had. He only wore it, I think, once or twice. With the actual arrows sewn onto it. He literally wore it two times, I think. The reason he didn’t use it was because he couldn’t take it off on stage, because as soon as he started sweating it stuck to him. So, there was no way he could just take it off. That’s why he stopped using it. But it was just a phase he went through.

PS: Speaking about Freddie’s T-shirts, Freddie used to wear quite a few T-shirts with logos of different gay establishments, different gay clubs, such as Haven, The Works. And the question is, how exactly did he usually obtain such T-shirts? Were they given to him as presents or did he buy them?

PF: Most of them were. I mean, obviously, we offered to pay, but then the manager says, “No, no, no. Take it, take it.” Because, of course, it’s going to be good advertising for them, isn’t it?

PS: With such a superstar wearing their T-shirts. Speaking of clubs, have you ever visited the famous Studio 54 in New York?

PF: Yes, we were there quite often. Usually on the Sunday night. And, it was fine, it was good. It was the Sunday, because he went to The Saint on Saturday. It was fun, it was good. It was so very, very different because of the history that was attached to it. But it was good, it was big enough for people to hide in. If you wanted to be seen in a photograph – yes, fine, well and good. But if you didn’t, then there were plenty of places where you could just stand or sit, or whatever.

PS: In what ways was it different?

PF: I mean, the feeling of the place. Because they spent a lot of money on the interior. With all the different lighting, stage, everything was there. It had that, sort of, bit of glamour.

PS: Actually, as we mentioned the holiday of Easter at the beginning of our talk, I would like to ask you, in your understanding, was Freddie any kind of spiritual person? Maybe not religious but sort of a believer, as we can see a lot of lyrics for his songs where he mentions God.

PF: He didn’t follow any organised religion, because it’s something that he never really spoke about, because he felt that and politics were, in fact, very private to a person. But I do believe he had a faith, he did have his belief, but not in any way that we would recognise.

PS: Coming back to our topic about clubs, could you please try to remember the story about Freddie meeting one of the members of Village People in one of the clubs?

PF: I’m trying to remember which club we were in. It could actually have been The Works where we met him, because I know it was just a chance meeting. We then went to some promotion thing that the Village People were doing. And we were there, we met up with David Hodo; he was the construction worker. They became good friends, and they would meet up quite often in clubs whenever Freddie was in New York. But it was just a chance meeting.

PS: There were some kind of rumours that some accident happened to Freddie when he met one of the Village People members in a club. Do you remember anything like this?

PF: Accident, no. There was that time in one of the clubs, there was a group of us and David was there with us. I went to the toilet and told Freddie, “Just stay here.” And he says, “Yes, yes, yes.” And then I went to the toilet and when I came back, of course, he wasn’t there where he was supposed to be. And then David came and found me and said, “You better come and give Freddie a hand,” I said, “Why? What?” He said, “You have to see it.” We went round the corner and there was Freddie jumping in a big, sort of, net container where there were all the plastic cups from the drinks you just threw away. He was just jumping up and down in it, because someone had actually put something into one of his drinks, and he just had gone… happy. [laughs] So, between David and myself, we just lifted him out, took him and stood him by the bar and wouldn’t let him go anywhere.

PS: Coming back to the Hot Space times, you can be actually seen in the backstage footage of the Milton Keynes Bowl show, and you are walking together with Freddie to the stage. Can you please share any special memories about this show?

PF: The show itself, no. But the night before the show, he was bitten on his hand by his boyfriend at the time, Bill Reid. He bit him and drew blood between his thumb and his forefinger. So, Freddie was having a bit of a problem playing the piano at that show. As far as the music goes, it was another big outdoor Queen show.

PS: Speaking about the Hot Space tour, in general, what was the most specific moment or, maybe, your personal memory of it?

PF: No, not really. One tour blends into the next tour, whether it was Europe or America. When you are actually on tour, it’s basically the same every evening – soundcheck, show, out, hotel, travel to the next place. It became very much routine.

PS: As a viewer, you have seen only one Queen show, right?

PF: Yes, the show I have seen was one of the Wembley shows in 1986. It was the Friday night. He had friends over from America and he wanted me to look after them. And then Joe actually took care of him for the show.

PS: And you saw it not from the stage but as a viewer?

PF: Yeah. We were all sat in the royal box, which was, sort of, the VIP area. You don’t get any good view or anything, and this is in any show. It’s either right at the side or whatever. You don’t really see anything. It’s really a place where celebrities can go and sit so that the audience can go and see them. That’s what it was about, really.

PS: What are your memories about Freddie’s family? This is our second topic. What are your memories about Bomi and Jer.

PF: I probably saw them five times in my entire life. He tried very much to keep his music life totally separate from his family. The music side of him did not really fit with their strict Zoroastrian faith. He didn’t want to push their noses in it. He would bring them to one show each tour of Europe when they [Queen] were in London, and that would be it.

PS: Even if you saw his parents five times or something, could you remember, in general, your impression of his father? As we can see his mother, Jer, in some documentaries. But what was his father like?

PF: His father was just quiet, very, very quiet. Which was unusual in that sort of family, because normally it was the male who was dominant, and the females were submissive. But it was very much the other way round with this family. The mother did a lot more talking. I probably had more to do with them after Freddie died than when he was alive, because I talked to them to find out what they needed for the service and everything. The whole world had had him for twenty odd years, he was owned by the world, so I felt it was only right particularly at this time that his parents got what they needed. They should never be burying their son. That’s not supposed to happen. So, for them to be able to deal with the whole thing I felt it was only right to actually accommodate them with the funeral service and everything. So that’s why I say that I probably spoke more with them then than at any time before.

PS: Do you have, maybe, any kind of memories of Freddie spending time together with his sister, Kashmira?

PF: She came to Garden Lodge not even as much as his parents did, because she lived in a different city, she lived in Nottingham. If their parents came to Garden Lodge, maybe, six times, she would have been there, maybe, three. They spoke on the phone every now and then, probably not even quite as much as with his mother. It wasn’t a close, close family like so many people believe families should be, but then I fully understood it, I fully understood his feelings there.

PS: Do you find any similarities between Kashmira and Freddie? Are they in some ways like each other?

PF: I think so. But I found out a lot more in the more recent years than while Freddie was alive. She enjoys her life with what Freddie has given her. And the way she honours Freddie because Freddie gave her 25% of his money. And she’s buying these really classy, good quality jewellery and cigarette cases and everything, and then she lends them to the Victoria and Albert Museum in Freddie’s name. So, she’s enjoying the money but letting the world know that it’s only through Freddie. I admire her for that. If Freddie was to actually be seeing what she’s doing, he would be over the moon because she’s enjoying the money. So many people just cannot, but she is, she is definitely enjoying it.

PS: She has a total right to do so.

PF: Yes, very much so, because she’s doing what, I believe, Freddie would have wished her to do. Because he enjoyed his money, so that’s why he gave it to her so that she could enjoy her life, enjoy things. And, as I say, the things that she buys she lends to museums in Freddie’s name. So, he’s still there, he’s still represented. I think that’s perfect.

PS: Our third topic is about Queen’s first tour in South America, as it was a very special one. What are your favourite memories about this one, if you can try to remember?

PF: The memory that sticks in the mind was the police escort that we had going back from the first show in Argentina. There are photographs all over the place, with John Deacon playing with the gun and them travelling in an armoured truck and that sort of stuff. That was something incredible. It’s something that you could tell your grandchildren you were there, it’s one of those things. The shows themselves were wonderful because Freddie was playing to the biggest audiences that he’d ever played to at that point. And he loved it, he loved being on the stage. The memories I have are more offstage than onstage. There was the very, very quick drive from the hotel to the airport after the show in Venezuela, because the president died that day and they were going to close the country down to go into state mourning. If the band and the set and everything were still there, we would never have been allowed to leave. There were no flights, there was nothing. So, we drove so, so fast through to get out before the lockdown happened there. It was amazing. And then, of course, there was Mexico, in Puebla where there was this old, old stadium. And the backstage, you just wouldn’t believe what was there. It was just broken down, old cement and concrete. No locks on doors. There was one toilet that we had to create a sign for, so when you went in you put “Engaged”, and when you came out you put “Vacant”. There was no lock on the door. And then, of course, that was where there was the problem with the crowd. The band didn’t know anything about, none of us did until afterwards. The reason that batteries and everything were thrown at them on the stage was because, apparently, before the fans could go in, the police took all the batteries out of recorders, cameras and everything, so none of the show could be recorded or filmed. But then when they were inside, the crowd could buy their batteries back. And the crowd thought that this was part of a deal with Queen and that’s why they started throwing stuff at them.

PS: Very extreme concerts, right?

PF: But when Freddie was on stage, he thoroughly enjoyed it. It really fulfilled his dreams.

PS: The fourth topic is: A lot of people ask you about Freddie, but we must remember that actually you were quite close with all Queen members. My question is about each of them. What are your special memories or stories? Let’s start with Brian.

PF: There’s a photograph. There was Brian, myself and Brian’s security. We were down by the pool. I cannot remember which hotel. I was lying on the grass in the sun and Brian was there and we were chatting. And then his bodyguard came and just sat on me. There’s a photograph of it on the internet. And Brian just sat there laughing. He just laughed and laughed and laughed, and didn’t do anything to help me.

PS: Any special memory about Roger in all those years with Queen?

PF: Again, this was in South America where he and I had a go-kart race, there was this amazing go-kart track near one of the cities. I was out there with Roger, there was a group of us out there. We had this amazing race. Because he loves cars, he’s always driving cars. He decided he was going to be champion go-kart driver. That was fun. All the things are fun that we did. John had the family with him [in South America] some of the time. I used to babysit his children. I think there were three boys at the time. There’s photographs round and about of me with John’s children playing around at the airport. I was there to make sure to keep an eye on them. The off-duty times were really good memories.

PS: The fifth topic. Freddie, in one of his interviews, said that he considered reading books not a very interesting activity. Could you please try to remember whether there was some certain book or books that had an important meaning for Freddie?

PF: In the twelve years I knew him, I never saw a book in his hand. He would read magazines, like Architectural Digest, because he just loved furnishing things inside the house, on the properties he owned. But I never really saw him reading a book. But, saying that, with the intelligence that he had, he must have read books. I think probably they are things that he learnt at school. He was very clever. I finished the boarding school at eleven, and he carried on until he was seventeen, so he probably would have learnt so much more that I did. But I never saw him with a book in his hand.

PS: In that case, could you please try to remember any theatre play or opera libretto that he liked because of the storyline or the characters?

PF: It started off as a play but then it was made into a film. He saw the play in London when they put it on. And it was called “The Women”. He found that fascinating. It was a comedy film about how women dealt with divorce and separation and love, and all that sort of thing. It was just very quick-witted. He loved everything. You had to listen carefully to understand the joke. In so many of these films, they do short, quick sentences. He would pay attention to those sort of things. That one he went to because he wanted to see the play. Most of the time, he went to see plays because of the people who were in it. His friends would invite him to a show. I bought the tickets and took him to see the play “Little Foxes” in New York, and not because he would be interested in the play or what’s going on, it was purely because Elizabeth Taylor was the star. A lot of the time, he went to these things because of who was in it rather than what it was.

PS: Was there any opera libretto that he liked the most because of the story or characters?

PF: Not specifically for story and characters, because anything that Montserrat could sing, he just loved listening to her voice. He didn’t have to know the story behind it. It’s just as well because in most operas you don’t understand the story, because this mother lost this son, he was taken away by someone else, or she stole another one, and then this son falls in love with this person but that’s his sister. You know, you really do not want to know the stories of operas, you just want to listen to them.

PS: Speaking about you, what are your favourite books and writers?

PF: It really depends on my mood at the time. Actually, I do quite like Stephen King, but not everything that he’s done. I mean, I like the general style of his writing, of his books. Operas, I have about 1,500 operas in mp3’s and on physical CD’s. And I will listen to one every day. It just really depends on the mood. Mainly things written by Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti and Verdi. The storyline is almost always the same, except if it’s based on a historic fact. It’s always a love story, sometimes it ends happily and other times she dies of consumption or she dies of something else. As I say, generally, you don’t pay attention to the words. I ask so many people, when they listen to a song for the first time, do they listen to the music or do they listen to the words? The vast majority of people listen to the music first. It’s the same with opera. He had to be able to read music, although he might say he couldn’t because he did those piano exams. You have to read music. But I don’t think he was so interested to actually pick up a school. He would not sit at the piano and play something from notes. That he couldn’t do, he just would create it himself.

PS: Speaking about Stephen King, as you mentioned him, do you like his book “The Shining” and the film with Jack Nicholson?

PF: Very good. That one I like very much. I like “The Shining”. I thought the book adaptation was actually very, very good. Another one that I like of his was “Salem’s Lot”; there is a miniseries made of that which actually reflected the book very, very well. Because Stephen King is involved with the films of his books most of the time, they tend to be much better versions of the books than so many films. So many films are supposed to be based on a book than have all of the director’s own ideas and what it should be like and everything else. So, when you look at the film, you actually wonder if you’re looking at the right film.

PS: Must agree with this. As a close friend of Freddie, as a writer yourself and as a book lover, here’s a special question: With whom could you compare Freddie amongst fictional characters from books?

PF: [laughs] Oh brother! There isn’t one. [laughs] Not in anything I’ve read that Freddie could compare with. I mean, maybe, there’s a little bit of Freddie in so many different characters. For example, Sir John Falstaff. I don’t remember which Shakespeare play he’s in, but he’s in a couple of operas. And just that character, I can see a bit of Freddie in there. Anything passionate I can see Freddie in. Anything with a love story in it, because that’s what he was always looking for. Anyone specific, no, I don’t think that exists. So, a book would have to be written around him.

PS: The next topic is: What was Freddie’s excitement like right before going on stage? Was he mostly visibly excited or otherwise calm and deep inside himself before the show?

PF: Really, most of the time when I was there with him getting ready for the show, there was always a rule that everybody, all friends and family had to be out of the dressing room at least half an hour before the show. They would have to sit in the guest room, so the band could, sort of, concentrate. In Freddie’s mind, there was no reason to panic because the show was going to happen whether he panicked or not. He was actually quite calm going into a show. He would pump himself up but on his own. He would just move his arms around and jump a little bit. And it wasn’t the excitement, it was just to get the body moving because he knew what he’d appear on the stage. His body would not stop moving for an hour and a half, two hours. He had to basically warm the body up a bit. Vocally, he would do a little bit of vocal exercises, but not specific exercises, he would just hit notes to try and place his voice, so he had some idea of what he was going to do that night. But there was no visible excitement. I suppose, perhaps, there was more excitement in South America than any other show that I was at, because of the size of the audience and because it was a first. Any of the shows they did in South America were a first, they’d never been done before. There was a bit of excitement because he didn’t know what was going to happen. When he was touring the normal America, Europe, it was things he’d done before, so he knew what to expect.

PS: Speaking about backstage before the concert, we can actually see you walking with Freddie in Los Angeles, and there we can also see Michael Jackson. Do you remember this show and Michael backstage with Freddie?

PF: Again, there’s pictures of it. That was more after the show where Freddie went into the guest room. They actually started in the dressing room, because nobody was allowed in the dressing room half an hour before and half an hour after while they got changed. But once they had come down from the show, a few special guests would be allowed into the dressing room, but then the band would go into the green room where all the artists and guests were. I remember seeing Freddie talking with Michael. It was just interesting for me to see these two who were at the peak of their performances, although they were so different but they were so similar. I know it sounds stupid, but that’s what I felt.

PS: What is your favourite memory of you and Freddie visiting Michael?

PF: There’s too many, I suppose. For me, it’s playing video games with Michael Jackson, because he had this big room where he had the arcade versions of video games. He just picked one and called Freddie and me over, and we were playing. There was this old-fashioned tennis thing. An oblong screen and on each side, you had a pedal that you moved up and down to hit the ball. We were playing that. It was wonderful. It was actually in Encino, the house before Neverland, the house that his mother lives in now. But, I suppose, the thing that I took away with me from that day was purely the fact that Michael didn’t treat me any differently than how he treated Freddie. Whatever happened in his life, whatever the truth is, the way that man treated me will stay with me all of my life because, as I say, it was no different at all from how he treated Freddie.

PS: He was very open to you, right?

PF: Yes.

PS: Speaking about the opposite of the before stage time, what was Freddie like after the concert? What was his mood mostly like?

PF: Mostly, he was up. In the dressing room, immediately after the show, there would be shouting and screaming for anything that went wrong. They always wanted to give a perfect show, and when they couldn’t it was hard. They would really get it out of their system. But once that had been done, he was generally always in a good mood. He just couldn’t wait to get out. I understand why he was out every night, because you cannot go to bed after a show like that, you’re just so full of adrenaline it just wouldn’t work.

PS: It’s like the second wave coming?

PF: Yeah. All the adrenaline that appeared during the stage show had to go somewhere, it doesn’t drain off in five minutes. That’s why he was out until four or five in the morning.

PS: At what time did Freddie usually go to sleep?

PF: It depends on what we were doing. I would think that average time would be between three and four.

PS: Three and four in the morning, right?

PF: Yeah. Sometimes he might go at two, and if he was in the studio, sometimes he might go to bed at six.

PS: How many hours did he usually sleep?

PF: He was usually awake by nine o’clock, so he would normally sleep for six or seven hours.

PS: Did he have any kind of repeated night dreams that he, maybe, told you about?

PF: No, nothing like that. He never told me anything. He would say he had a good night or a bad night but wouldn’t really go into description of dreams.

PS: You mentioned many times that your favourite Freddie song is “My Melancholy Blues.” Could you please try to describe why it is your favourite song?

PF: Yeah, because it’s so very, very different, because as soon as you mention the name Queen you automatically think of big harmonies, multilayered guitars, just huge songs. And this was just the total opposite. It’s just got a piano, a bass, a bit of drums and a voice. It’s all so partly autobiographical of Freddie’s party. He used to have so many parties, but in the end the party’s over, he would find someone else. The party doesn’t have to be a party with drinks and all the rest of it, it could just be a good time he had with someone. It’s just the total opposite of your classic Queen song. It’s just so quiet, it’s so personal.

PS: Could you please quote your favourite line from the lyrics?

PF: I suppose it has to be the opening line. “Another party’s over and I’m left stone cold sober.” It’s just Freddie, it sums up Freddie.

PS: Was he really a bit sentimental and sad when the real parties were over?

PF: Sentimental, maybe, but not sad, because most parties that he had were usually a success, so he would be happy and sentimental. The thing is, if that one’s over, there can always be a next one. There’s no need to be sad.

PS: What is your very, very first memory and image of Freddie when you first met him?

PF: Oh, that’s easy, I know exactly. He’s not very tall, is he? He was 175 cm and I was 187 cm. I looked down at him. You look, everybody imagines Freddie to be a giant because of the videos, because of the way he is on stage. He just looks huge. So many videos are shot from just a little bit looking upwards which makes him look taller. It was great, just looking at him and thinking, “He’s not tall.” His personality, his aura certainly made up for that, because he could walk into a room and every head would turn. They could feel Freddie Mercury had walked into the room.

PS: The very first moment you saw him, did he walk into the room or did you walk into the room where he already was?

PF: I walked into the room because he was already there talking with some friends. This was after the Royal Ballet Gala. And then he, sort of, looked, he wasn’t talking and looking around, and I just went to him and I just had to tell him how wonderful I thought the whole evening was. It wasn’t like he was this massive great superstar who I was scared of, because I’d been dealing with stars for the last four years and people who he considered were real big stars. He often used to say how proud he was of the fact that he took me away from the opera house where real big stars performed.

PS: What was his response to your comments about his show? What was your first conversation like?

PF: It was strange because I expected it to be rock’n’roll, rough, the way he talked on stage, but he was polite, he was a gentleman. That was all totally unexpected, because you expect a rock’n’roll star just to have the words ready on the end of his tongue for this and that. And the only reason that he spoke with me, because normally he would not speak to a total stranger, was because his friends were around him. One of them could easily have taken him away if he wasn’t happy. That’s all he needed. But then we started talking and it was it. I mean, it was just a three- or four-minute conversation, not a lot. As I say, from the very start, I could not be over how polite he was.

PS: So it was enough for him to spend, like, four or five minutes with you to later contact you and ask you to work with him on tour?

PF: Yes. As I say, whatever happened in those four or five minutes obviously worked because of that phone call a week later. I can imagine, he would be talking with Paul Prenter because they were going out on tour and they didn’t have anybody looking after their costumes because Dane had walked out. I can imagine him, “Look, I was talking to someone, he does costumes at the opera house for the ballet. Why don’t we try and call him?” I can imagine how it was because I know him and what he was like.

PS: As you mentioned Paul Prenter, was there anything good in Freddie’s relationship with him? Do you remember any good moments with Paul Prenter?

PF: He kept Freddie happy for a lot of the time. He kept Freddie company. Freddie was never alone when he was around. Paul was always there. But he’s got that bad reputation and all the rest of it, which sort of he’s deserved. He did care about Freddie.

PS: Concluding our final part, Freddie Mercury would have been 75 years old this year, but if we imagine Freddie was born, let’s say, in 1986 and if he was only 35 years old today in the year 2021, in our modern times, what do you think he would be like today?

PF: That’s so hard to say because life is so different. At that age, he would have grown up with computers. If things still carried on like they have done, I don’t think he would be happy because people don’t buy albums anymore, they don’t buy CD’s, they don’t buy physical, everything is “download.” Part of the joy for him was designing the album covers. He hated working at home, he refused to work at home. But nowadays you have to work at home and then take your music into the studio to get it mixed. I don’t think he would be really comfortable in this time. Because there’s no music like Queen have done, that doesn’t exist anymore. There are no bands who do things like that anymore. Or the bands that do, they are all in their 70s. His music would go nowhere. I also personally believe we are all here where we’re supposed to be. I think, if Freddie had a real big choice, he would have been born fifty years earlier because he was that sort of Victorian, Edwardian gentleman. He was a real gentleman. And that sort of existence wasn’t around when Freddie would have been able to enjoy it. But then, how many rock stars do you know that have had at one point the largest private collection of antique Japanese woodblock prints? That just isn’t rock’n’roll, is it?

PS: And if he was 75 this year, in his 70s, what would he be like today?

PF: He would be miserable because he never ever wanted to be old. As you get older, you cannot physically do what you used to do. A 70-year-old cannot, in the very, very best of health, do what a 30-year-old can do. It’s just physically impossible. That deterioration would have upset him so much.

PS: If Freddie could talk to the new generation, our present teenagers and young people of today, what would his message to them have been?

PF: The thing I always got from him was that he cared for others just as much as he cared for himself. He did not put himself first, above anybody else. He just wanted to treat everybody nicely. That’s what he was like. And I think that’s what he would try and tell people nowadays because that doesn’t exist very much either anymore. Because this now is a world of “me, me, me.”

PS: So his message, in general, would be something like “You should take care of each other more”?

PF: Take care of each other, yeah.

PS: And if he could talk to exactly Queen fans, what would his message be today?

PF: “Well, just carry on and enjoy the music.” Because that’s something that all the Queens fans did. They loved the music. They’re the ones who are keeping it going now and creating new fans. So many students say to me, “My mother and father were huge Queen fans.” It’s going through the generations. Freddie has been gone thirty years, but people are still listening to his music as much now as they ever did.

PS: And we all hope that people will continue to listen to his music.

PF: No reason why not. We still listen to Rimsky-Korsakov, we still listen to Mozart. And they’re long gone.

PS: And he will be remembered for thirty, fifty and more years.

PF: I remember, this was a few years ago, when it was Mozart’s 250th birthday or something. And I did an interview and I said it would not surprise me at all that if in two hundred years people would still listening to Queen music, as they were still listening to Mozart. Because good music carries on.

PS: Let it be this way in years to come.

SPECIAL THANKS TO VALUREX FOR CONTRIBUTION AND ASSISTENCE

#MR interview with Phoebe #queen #queen band #freddie mercury #roger taylor #brian may #john deacon #peter freestone

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nothingeverlost · 4 years

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Henry Gold (10/?)

Summary: Regina asked for Gold’s help in procuring a child, but when he held the wee boy in his arms he couldn’t give the child up. Ten years later it’s Henry Gold who arrives in Boston, looking for Emma.

This chapter: A thief, punishment, ice cream, and a story of tragic love. AKA The Skin Deep chapter.

It’s a monster at almost 11,000 words.

TW for mentions of suicide and for violence.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

Gold was not the most popular person in town. It had taken Emma less than a day to see that. With few exceptions people seemed to avoid him unless they had dealings with him. It was strange, really, how many people in town seemed to have dealings with a pawnbroker. Those that interacted with him willingly seemed to do so for Henry. After a couple of months in town she still wasn’t sure there was anyone she’d call Gold’s friend. He’d visited someone named Jefferson a few times, but Emma hadn’t met him yet.

She wasn’t used to seeing people yell at Gold, though. She was on her way to the diner when she saw him crossing the street, a red-faced angry man shouting out that Gold was ‘the lowest’ and wasn’t going to get away with it. Emma hadn’t noticed him before but she’d hardly met everyone in town.

“Isn’t that Dove driving away in the florist van?” Emma jogged to catch up with him. She’d met Dove a few times, and knew that he worked for Gold in some capacity. Henry had a wooden unicorn in his room he said Dove had made for him.

“It’s being repossessed. French is months behind in his payments.” Gold ignored the man still shouting. Ignored the mayor walking their direction as well, ducking into the shop the moment he had the door opened. Emma followed.

“You lent him money?” There was a bank in town. She knew that because her paychecks were direct deposited. Filling out the paperwork had been the first time she’d used Gold’s address as her home.

“I run a pawn shop, Emma. I lend money to a great many people. French is simply one of them.” Gold’s hands tightened a little when he said French’s name. It was a small thing, but Emma noticed it out of the corner of her eye. Money didn’t seem to phase him; she doubted he was bothered by a default on a loan. French meant something to him.

“What are you going to do with the van? It’s not exactly going to fit in one of the window displays.”

“I’ll figure something out,” he said with a shrug. “However if you know anyone that is in need of roses let me know. I apparently have acquired a few.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She wasn’t about to tell Mary Margaret. She might get ideas, and David getting flowers delivered would not go over well at home. “I’m going to get a coffee across the street. Can I get you anything?”

“Thank you, but I’m fine. I’ll see you this evening.” Without another word he vanished through the curtain to his office. Emma left him alone, crossing the street to Granny’s. She was unsurprised to find that David and Mary Margaret were in tables right next to each other.

“Hey David, did you find a home for the kittens yet?” After the storm Graham had found three abandoned kittens and after ascertaining that their mother wasn’t coming back he’d taken them to a shelter.

“Believe it or not a woman with triplet daughters came in yesterday and adopted them. They’re going to be a birthday surprise.” David’s grin was enthusiastic; it was impossible not to smile back at him. Mary Margaret kept smiling at him until Emma coughed to get her attention.

“Good morning.”

“Morning Emma.” Mary Margaret had barely greeted her when Ruby brought over her coffee. She put in her order of two muffins to go.

“I’m still getting to know everyone around here. Do you by chance know anyone named French?” Emma made sure to make it sound like a casual query.

“The florist’s name is Moe French. I don’t think there’s anyone else in town with the name. His place is over on Franklin.”

“He doesn’t have any family?” It seemed kind of sad, to sell flowers to other people and have no one to bring them home to.

“I don’t remember hearing anything about a family. He’s from Australia, so maybe he still has some back there?” Mary Margaret’s attention wavered. “Ashley is here with the baby. She looks exhausted.”

Emma looked over her shoulder; she hadn’t seen Ashley since the hospital. Sure enough it was her, pushing a stroller. If anyone had ever needed coffee it was her. Could you drink coffee when you were breastfeeding? Was Ashley the type to breastfeed? Emma didn’t have a clue. She’d only had milk for a couple of days before it had thankfully dried up. “Hey Ashley, how’s it going?”

“I don’t know. The baby’s great, I love her so much, but between Sean working doubles and the baby not sleeping I haven’t had a break since I got home from the hospital. We haven’t even had time to talk about our relationship. He said he wants to get married but we haven’t had time to plan anything.” Ashley collapsed into the chair David had just vacated. “I had to get out of the house. I don’t even know if I’m hungry.”

“You need a night out.” Ruby apparently didn’t have any questions about if Ashley was drinking coffee. She brought over a mug and put it in front of the blond. “Leave the baby with Sean and we can have drinks. Mary Margaret you could use a girls-only night, couldn’t you? And Emma, you should totally come too. Leave the badge at home, though.”

“Yeah, sure.” It wouldn’t hurt to get to know people better. It would be nice for Gold and Henry to have some time on their own too. They didn’t need her in their space all the time.

“Where should we…” The ringing of her phone interrupted her question. Since it was Graham she answered. “Hey.”

“I just got a call from a woman named Kravitz about a disturbance next door to her. She heard loud noises and the front door was left open. Emma, it’s Gold’s house.”

“Crap. I’ll go check on it. I’ll call and let you know what’s up.” She shoved her phone into her pocket and pushed away from the table. The coffee was too hot for a quick gulp before she left. She was going to miss the caffeine.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Sorry, work.” She ran out of the diner, hoping that when she got to Gold’s house it was nothing more than a prank or someone’s overactive imagination. It helped a little, knowing that Henry was already on his way to school and Gold was at work. But only a little.

Someone had broken into his home. More importantly someone had broken into his son’s home, the place where Henry should be completely safe. The door was ajar, just as his usually annoying but sometimes handy neighbor had informed him. As he stepped inside he withdrew the gun he’d brought with him from the shop; he wasn’t taking any chances that someone was still around. The first damage he saw as he rounded a corner was the smashed glass over a picture of himself and Henry from last Christmas. Tables were overturned, things missing, but it was the empty display case that told him everything he needed to know.

Moe French was going to suffer.

When he heard a sound he turned, gun raised, and found himself facing Emma.

“You have a gun?” she asked, staring at him.

“As do you.” He lowered his, slipping it back into the pocket of his coat after confirming the safety was on. “I assure you it’s registered. I keep it at the shop.”

“What happened here?” She lowered her own, but kept it in hand as she took in the destruction around them. “Son of a bitch.”

“It appears we’ve been robbed. I haven’t gotten any farther in the house. If you wouldn’t mind checking upstairs I’d appreciate it. The sooner you do whatever you have to do legally the sooner we can get this cleaned up. I’d rather Henry didn’t have to see it.” He looked at the smashed photo and tightened his hand into a fist. Bastard.

“Do you know who might have done this?” Emma asked as she walked around broken glass.

“I haven’t a clue,” he lied. If Emma was focused on the case she’d be less likely to get in his way. He was going to take care of Moe French on his own. They had things to settle between them, things that had already waited far too long. Decades too long.

“This morning with Mr. French…”

“He’s a florist and it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow. What would he have to gain from this? If he were to steal anything it would make the most sense to try and reclaim his van, not a few trinkets from my home.” They were, of course, more than trinkets. Not including the sentimental value of what was stolen, the antiques from this world and another were worth thousands. Emma was too clever for his own good. At least she would have no reason to suspect that Moe’s actions were aided by Regina. He could see her fingerprints over the whole thing. Only she knew his history and could possibly know the importance of one single teacup.

“I’ll check the rest of the house and then we can head for the station. I need you to file a report so we know exactly what we’re looking for.”

“Emma.” He stopped her before she headed for the stairs. “Unless it’s necessary I’d rather Henry didn’t know. There’s no reason for him to worry.”

“As long as this looks like it’s a one time only thing I won’t say a word,” she promised.

“It won’t be repeated,” Gold muttered under his breath. It was a promise too.

“I know Gold said there’s no point looking at Moe French, but I think we have to look at him. He sounded pretty angry this morning when Gold repossessed his van. Is there anyone else you know that might have a reason not just to steal, but to trash the place?” Fortunately the thief didn’t have the time or the desire to go upstairs, and the bedrooms were untouched. It seemed odd to her that most of the house was untouched, not that she was complaining. There wouldn’t be much to clean up and if they were lucky Henry wouldn’t have to deal with the worry and fear of knowing someone had broken into the house.

“Regina hates him, but she’s not into larceny as far as I know. Most people around here aren’t stupid enough to try something like this, especially considering he’s the landlord for half the town.”

“So what do we know about Moe French? Is he…” Emma froze when she reached her desk and found a bouquet of wildflowers in a vase. Next to the flowers was a donut, chocolate glazed but covered in red and pink sprinkles.

“I know roses are more traditional but I’ve never been one for cultivated flowers and we’re not exactly traditional so far. I didn’t know we’d have a case when I put them there, and I thought about moving them considering but even if we can’t do dinner tomorrow I wanted you to have flowers today.”

“Dinner?” Emma was still stuck on the fact that he’d gotten her flowers. From the looks of them he’d probably gone out and picked them himself.

“I thought we could try this thing I’ve heard of, they call it a date. Sometimes it involves this thing called dinner. It might even include this other thing called kissing.” He wasn’t quite laughing but she could see it was close to happening.

“You’re such a dork.” Emma laughed because it was the easiest reaction. Though they’d been taking things slow for more than one reason, Emma had expected a date at some point in the not too distant future. When she hadn’t expected was Valentine’s Day. No matter how much she told herself it was a day like any other it meant something. She’d never had a date on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t a day you picked for a casual thing, and that’s all she’d had except for Neal. They hadn’t been together in February; they met in the spring and by the following year she was pregnant and alone.

“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow.” Graham was too damn observant and she’d been quiet for longer than she’d meant. His hand on her cheek was warm; it wasn’t at all the way a sheriff should be touching his deputy but they were way past professional boundaries. “We can have dinner another time instead.”

“No.” Emma shook her head. This was Storybrooke, a place for new beginnings. “I have the perfect dress for dinner on Valentine’s Day. It’s red, sexy, and way easier to wear when I don’t have to worry about chasing someone in heels.”

“I promise I have no plans to run anywhere.” His thumb grazed the corner of her mouth before he pulled away. “I do, however, have a lot of incentive to find stolen property today so it’s wrapped up before tomorrow. Why don’t we start with French’s flower shop?”

“Okay, but I’m not buying you any roses.”

Emma frowned at the loot laid out on one of the spare desks in the office. She should be feeling better; she wasn’t even at the end of her shift and she had Gold’s stolen property back. It certainly looked like his stuff; little statues she might call paperweights that were probably worth more than her car, a stack of plates and three teacups, none of them the same pattern, a tapestry that might look better if it was washed, a silver tray, a wooden box.

Something felt wrong. She and Graham had found the stolen goods in the backroom at Game of Thorns. It was too easy. Nothing was hidden, but was laid out on a table as if displayed almost. Maybe that was what bothered her. Or maybe it was how deliberately Gold had tried to convince her that French wasn’t worth considering as a suspect. She needed answers.

Graham was still looking for French. She was waiting for Gold to show up. She didn’t have long to wait; ten minutes after she called him he was striding into the station. “Apparently your pal Moe was capable of more than you thought.”

Gold barely acknowledged her, his attention on the recovered items. It was strange; for all that his house was cluttered he didn’t seem particularly invested in things. When Henry had broken a china plate a few weeks ago he had only shrugged and cautioned his son not to touch any shards. He didn’t brag about his art unless it was something Henry drew. It never bothered him if his ties got dirty while cooking or playing. Something about this theft, though, had him more upset than she’d seen him ever, except the day that Henry had been missing.

“Gold?” She gave him a couple of minutes to look, but if his jaw tensed any more she didn’t know what was going to happen. Nothing good.

“It’s not here.” He dismissed everything on the desk curtly.

“What do you mean? These things are yours, aren’t they? The black lion thing is familiar, and the vase. The cups…”

“Something is missing.” He sounded certain. Emma wasn’t sure how he could tell, from the mess at home, just what was missing.

“There’s a lot of things here.” Maybe she should pick up a few of them and see if moving them around helped. After all he hadn’t touched them.

“And none of them matter. Where is Mr. French?”

“Graham is looking for him. If something is missing we’ll find it, Gold. I promise.” She’d always prided herself on her job. There weren’t a lot of things she was good at, but finding things was one of them. Knowing when people were lying was another, and Gold wasn’t lying. He was certain something was missing, and it was pretty obvious he didn’t want to say what.

“Not if I find it first.” Emma looked up, staring at him sharply. That sounded a hell of a lot like a threat.

“Gold, when you said you didn’t think French would steal from you…” He had tried to distract her when she’d asked him about French. He hadn’t ever outright denied that the florist could have been the thief. She realized that now.

“He wouldn’t, not unless someone else put the idea into his head.” He half-turned as if he was leaving. The whole time he’d been in the station he’d barely looked at her. It felt almost as if he was a stranger, rather than someone he’d lived with for the last four months.

“Who would do that?” It wasn’t a guess. He knew more than he was saying.

“Henry’s going to be home soon, and I’d like to be there. I’ll see you this evening.” he acted as if he hadn’t heard her question.

“Gold.” It was too late. He was gone.

He barely slept, watching the sun rise from his bed before giving up on the idea of more than a few restless hours. Moe French was hiding in some hole where the Sheriff didn’t know to find him. Gold wondered if it was self-preservation that had him cowering like a rat, or if he was simply celebrating his victory of stealing from the town bastard and lucky enough to escape Graham’s notice.

His luck wouldn’t last long.

The front parlor was restored; if one didn’t know to look for things that were currently being held at the sheriff’s station they wouldn’t know anything was missing. Henry hadn’t noticed the absence of bric-a-brac that didn’t usually catch his attention, and the one broken picture was tucked away until a new piece of glass could be purchased. Neither Emma nor Henry had commented on the empty display case. Gold had been careful not to look at it when either of them were around. After both were asleep he’d stared at it for more than an hour.

He would get his cup back, and someone would pay for the temporary loss of it. It was the only thing he had of his Belle.

“So just how much candy do you think Henry’s going to eat today?” Emma asked as she joined him in the kitchen. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been sitting there, the cold cup of tea in front of him in an annoyingly chip free cup.

“The rule in his classroom is that you bring a Valentine for everyone in the class or none at all. So unfortunately I think the answer is quite a lot.” If only that was his main concern tonight. “I have a meeting tonight. Will you be home before six-thirty?”

“I, uh…” Emma uncharacteristically looked away. “I have a date.”

“Well well. The sheriff, I assume?” It took him a moment to react, to pull on a mask and play at the banter that would usually come so easily. He was honestly happy for her, and if it came to it for the sheriff as well. He was a good man, too long a prisoner of the queen. They both deserved the happiness that he never expected to have.

“Yeah. We’re, I don’t know, doing dinner or something. If nothing comes up.” She frowned. “It could wait, though, if you need me to watch Henry.”

“I’m certain Ms. Lucas doesn’t have plans for the evening. She’s always glad to spend time with Henry. You go on your date.” He had things to do, but he forced himself to take a breath and slow down. Emma was important because of Henry and the curse, but she was important as herself as well. Perhaps in the beginning he had only cared because she was useful, but she’d become a friend in her own right. “Don’t let the paper cupids and heart decorations seem more important than they are. It’s just a day. When other people make a lot of it there can be pressure, but tonight should simply be about the two of you being able to talk to each other. To share stories that get missed when daily routine and work get in the way. Just focus on that and don’t think about the rest.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” She smiled a little, still restless but hopefully feeling better. Gold nodded and returned his focus to the tea he was making. He honestly hoped for the best for Emma’s date, but mostly he was glad it meant the only law in town would be nicely distracted tonight.

Gold would have preferred to make his purchases with no one around. Mr. Clark, he knew, wouldn’t say anything. The man wasn’t very smart in any realm, but he was smart enough not to make any comments. David was a less certain element. In another time and place he would have been full of questions. Somehow the prince had always been able to get him talk about things he never had any intention of talking about. He’d actually confided in Charming more than once despite himself. Perhaps it had something to do with the fraternity of men who raised sheep.

He didn’t seem to be quite so curious here. Nolan, as he was apparently known in this world, didn’t ask about the rope and tape. He seemed more distracted by the cards in his hand. Two of them, for two very different women. Not surprising.

“Couldn’t make up your mind?” He couldn’t resist commenting on the cards; each one for a wife, though he didn’t know it. It amused him that one featured a castle that might be a cartoonist’s drawing of David’s home.

“They’re both so us.” The prince hesitated slightly. He’d had time to settle into his life since waking up, but he knew from a few comments Emma had made and his own observations that his interest in Mary Margaret hadn’t dimmed since the day they ‘met.’

“You’re lucky to have someone that loves you so much.” Kathryn, of course, was under a spell but Snow White’s love was strong enough to battle a curse. He was certain that Regina was raging over the rumors of the two.

“I’m lucky for a lot of reasons.” Gold had to smile at the sentiment coming from the recent coma patient. He didn’t know how lucky he really was, to be not only alive but awake. To have his love so very close. And his daughter as well. Gold almost laughed when it occurred to him that Henry was the grandson of the princeling behind him in line. Henry could do worse than having Charming as a grandfather.

“Love is like a delicate flame. And once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.” They’d spoken of lost love once before, when the pain was more raw but no less intense. Just as then he knew that Charming, at least, still had a chance. “Cherish what you have.”

Gold carried his purchases out to the parking lot, where the garishly painted van waited for him. He had some hunting to do.

Emma was really glad both Gold and Henry had left for the evening when she came down the stairs. She was nervous enough without any comments about her dress or questions about where they were going. She liked Graham. Really liked him. She couldn’t remember when she liked someone so much, which was a lie but one she could live with. Honestly it might be easier if she didn’t care so much. Graham’s friendship and their working relationship meant too much to her to screw it up, and once dating and sex came into the picture she always screwed things up.

And that wasn’t even taking into account his recent dating past and near-fatal heart attack.

Was it too late to cancel? She’d half convinced herself to head upstairs and change when a knock on the door stopped her. Too late. She opened the door to find Graham standing on the front porch, wearing a suit of light gray, his top button undone and no tie in sight. He held a small stuffed wolf.

“Wow.” It was the first thing he said, and certainly not the worst reaction. She knew the red dress fit her well, and it certainly wasn’t like anything he’d seen her in.

“Is that for me?” He didn’t seem inclined to say much, so she pointed to the stuffed animal.

“I didn’t want to do flowers again and I thought this would be funny because you know, you followed the wolves with me and everything, but now that I say that I worry that it’s weird. Or lame. Is it lame?” She wondered if he was aware that as he looked at her he was petting the stuffed animal.

“It’s sweet.” She’d had a stuffed tiger once, something some foster parent had probably given her. It had lasted a couple of houses before it had gone missing or been left behind in one of her many moves. Her blanket was the only thing she’d managed to hold onto from her childhood. No one since had given her a stuffed toy. “Henry will get a kick out of naming him for me.”

“Is he here?”

“Nope, he’s having dinner at the diner with Granny. Gold is… somewhere.” Emma frowned. Gold had been acting weird ever since the robbery, and she didn’t love how vague he’d been about his evening activities. He’d been pacing for a good half hour before he’d left to drop off Henry.

“Yeah, I knew that actually. I saw him when I was coming over here. Weird thing is, he was driving the Game of Thorns van. If he was moving things around for the shop I didn’t figure he had Henry with him, so I thought maybe…”

“You saw him with the van?” Emma’s bad feeling got worse. They still hadn’t found Moe French and Gold still insisted that something stolen from him was missing. Something he refused to talk about. “What way was he heading?”

“Northwest, towards the bridge I think. Maybe he’s just parking the van somewhere French can’t find it and take it back?” Graham still had the stuffed animal in his hands. Emma took it, and wished she could do more than toss it on a hall table; she didn’t want him to think it didn’t matter. But she had a feeling in her gut that something was very wrong.

“Gold’s cabin is out that way. I’m sorry if you made reservations but I think we need to drive by and see if there’s anything going on we need to know about.” It would be embarrassing if she showed up and Gold was there doing something completely normal, and she had to explain why she’d taken her date out to the cabin. It would be just as weird if she and Graham showed up to an empty place in the middle of nowhere. But she had to take the risk.

“You might want to change your shoes first,” he pointed out, looking down at her heels. Emma sighed.

“I’m sorry.” She might have been on the verge of canceling the date, but that hadn’t been about him. Well, only in the fear of ruining their relationship sort of way. But he’d dressed up and made plans, and since he’d been with Regina for so long and she was a manipulative bitch it was a pretty good chance he hadn’t made date plans in a really long time.

“Our job is important. Besides, if we miss dinner there’s still dessert and that’s the best part of a meal.” Graham drove to the cabin without asking any questions about where it was. Emma had to wonder if he’d been there or he just knew. When they rounded the last corner the van was like a beacon in front of the cabin, despite the shadows. Somehow she had known it would be there. Weirdly, though, there weren’t any lights on inside.

“I’ll go first. Give me a minute, okay?” Her shoes might be sensible, but she was still wearing the red dress under her winter coat and it felt familiar. Uncomfortably familiar, like the last months hadn’t happened and she was still skip tracing. But Gold wasn’t a bounty, he was a friend. And he might not be doing anything more than stashing extra storage at the cabin. Emma left her gun in her pocket and proceeded with caution.

The door was unlocked. She didn’t have to wonder if he was in the cabin.

“She’s gone forever – she’s not coming back. And it’s your fault! Not mine! You are her father!” She couldn’t call it shouting. It wasn’t loud. It was painful. Emma stepped into the room and found Gold leaning over Moe French, the cane she’d seen used as an aid to walk now used as a weapon to hit the larger man despite the fact he was tied up.

Shit.

“It’s your fault.” When he swung his arm backward to inflict another blow Emma was able to grab the cane.

“Stop.” It was only another moment before Graham ran into the room. Gold tugged once against the cane before half-turning and making eye contact with her. The fight seemed to fade at that moment. It was the first time she’d ever thought that he looked old. She looked at her partner. So much for their date. “I think we’re going to need an ambulance.”

“Do you want to wait with him while I sort out the rest of this?” Graham stared at Gold, somehow not seeming very surprised by what he had done to Moe French.

“I’m not that great with blood and I think Gold and I have things we need to talk about. I’ll see you at the station?” It would be easy to hand things over to Graham. It wouldn’t be right.

“Yeah.” Graham nodded as he knelt down at the wounded man’s side. It was probably a bad time to notice how nice his ass looked in the dress pants, but she had been in date mode half an hour ago. Emma looked at the door, and then at Gold.

“I’m going to let go of your cane now. I get that it works pretty well as a weapon but let’s not right now, okay?” She wasn’t really worried, except that Gold still didn’t seem very focused. She needed to make sure he knew that she wasn’t a threat. “We should go outside.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He didn’t look in Moe’s direction before walking out the door. Emma followed.

“I’m glad I was. Things looked pretty bad in there, Gold. It’s going to be hard enough to explain to Henry that I had to arrest you for assault. I’m glad to avoid the murder charge.” Would he have gone that far? After seeing him with the cane she didn’t know.

“You could just not arrest me.” Gold made the comment as he looked at the dark forest, but he didn’t sound like he considered it to be possible.

“French is going to have to go to the hospital, and there are going to questions. You know I can’t do that.”

“If you left me alone with him for another minute it wouldn’t be an issue. Do you really think anyone would miss him?”

“You don’t really mean that.” But when he looked at her Emma had to quell a shiver. The wild rage from earlier was gone, but she could see the anger still. Colder now, but no less lethal. “We should go before the ambulance arrives. I don’t have to do the whole handcuff thing, do I?”

“Where would I possibly go? I’m not abandoning my son.” She couldn’t go so far as having him in the front seat, though. She held open the back door for him, waiting until he was settled before closing it. He was silent for the brief ride to the sheriff’s station. Fortunately it was late enough that the street was almost empty; anyone on Main Street was settled in a restaurant or the ice cream parlor, enjoying their happy little dates. She wondered which restaurant she was supposed to be at right now. Emma frowned when she took off her coat and looked down at the red dress.

“So, first time in a cell?” She tried a bad joke, to break the thaw in the room. It was the first time she’d locked anyone in a cell before. Figured she couldn’t have an easy first time.

“You’d be surprised.” She half expected him to pace the small space, but he settled on the edge of the cot.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened?” Emma settled on the arm of the couch, facing him. There was paperwork, but that could wait. Besides, a lot of it depended on French’s prognosis and if he was pressing charges.

“You’re far too much like Henry to be content if I said no.” Gold sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“You were beating up a man without any plan to stop, Gold. And I get it, he stole from you but I don’t think that’s what this was about.” She had been shocked by what she’d seen, and how out of control Gold had been when he usually seemed, if anything, too reserved. Now that she had time to process everything she remembered the words he had used. “You said it was his fault, that someone wasn’t coming back. French has a kid?”

“Had. She…” He looked down at the floor, drawing in a breath slowly before looking up at her. Emma winced, pretty sure she knew what came next. “She died.”

“She mattered to you.” She stopped shy of asking if he loved her. She remembered what it felt, the first time she’d woken up in a bed with Neal wrapped around her, and the moment she realized he wasn’t coming back. She remembered what it felt like when she let down her guard and kissed Graham for the first time, and the fear when she was certain he was dying. The pain and love she could all but feel radiating from Gold felt like something beyond that.

“I loved her more than I thought I was capable of loving. When I met her I had been dead inside for such a long time and she brought me back to life. But I didn’t trust it. She was so beautiful here.” He touched his chest just above his heart. “So kind and smart and wonderful. Why would she want to be with someone like me?”

“What did Moe French think of you and his daughter?” She didn’t know much about French, but clearly something had gone pretty badly.

“He hated me from the moment we met. We had a fight. I knew one day she would figure out that she was too good for me so I drove her away before she could leave me. She was young and beautiful, she’d find someone else who could love her better. Someone who could give her more. She went to her father but he hated me so much he wouldn’t accept her even when it was over. He said things to her. Cruel things. And then he told her she was no longer his daughter. My Belle.” She could see the tears in his eyes, but knew he wouldn’t let them fall. Not while she was watching.

“Where did she go?” Graham would have mentioned if French had a daughter in town, even if they were estranged. She waited a full minute before speaking, gently reminding him that she was still waiting. “Gold?”

“She was found in the river on a Monday. Her neck was broken. A witness said she jumped off the bridge.” Once he stopped speaking he seemed completely motionless. Not just still, but as if he was a statue or a toy with the batteries taken out.

“I…” She’s gone forever, he had said. Not coming back. For all that he had yelled at Moe as he beat the other man, Emma had to wonder how much of that rage had been aimed at himself.

“You should go get Henry. It’s past his bedtime already.” Gold spoke in carefully measured words.

“I can call Ruby, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind keeping him for the night.” It might be the easiest thing to do, and they had extra rooms at the B&B.

“You don’t want him to find out about this from someone else, and he deserves to sleep in his own bed. Please.” Gold’s eyes flicked in her direction briefly.

“I don’t know if I should leave you alone.” He might not be interested in talking any more but that didn’t mean he needed to be alone. And telling Henry she’d arrested his dad wasn’t going to be the most fun conversation she’d had today, which was saying something.

“I’m not going to try and escape.”

“I never thought you would.” Strangely, for a moment she remembered how worried Henry had been about his friends leaving town. No one could leave, he’d said. It was nonsense, of course.

“I’m not going to do anything else either. If it would make you feel better you can have my belt and shoelaces, though.” He leaned his head against the back wall, his eyes closed and his voice drained of emotion.

“I don’t know what to say to him.” She’d arrested his dad. No matter how close they were going or what Gold had done she couldn’t imagine Henry was going to understand that.

“Nothing can prepare you for moments like this when you’re a parent. You just have to figure it out as you go and hope for the best.”

“I’m not a parent.” She’d never thought of herself that way, not even when she was pregnant. Even a moment’s daydream would have made it too hard to do what she’d needed to do. “Giving birth doesn’t make anyone a parent.”

“Being a parent has nothing to do with biology. You told him you would stay for a day. It’s been four months. Why are you still here, Emma?” She was surprised to find he was looking at her. Emma blinked, unable to think of anything to say. “He trusts you and he knows you’ll keep him safe. Right now that matters more than anything. Go home, Emma. Henry needs you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Even with everything else happening he put Henry first. As much as she dreaded it, she couldn't do less. Emma reluctantly stood up. “I’m sorry about Belle.”

He didn’t say a word as she left.

“You look like you could use a drink. How about I pour you one and then I can tell you all about how Sean showed up and proposed to Ashley. It was pretty sweet.” Ruby picked up a glass but Emma shook her head.

“I just came to pick up Henry.” The truth was she would love a drink. She was more interested in some solitude to work through what she’d learned tonight, though, then pretending to be interested in Ashley’s love life. And she really didn’t want to answer questions about her own Valentine’s date.

“He just finished up an ice cream sundae; Granny took his dish before he could lick it clean. He’s in the back booth.” Ruby nodded towards the back of the diner. Emma frowned when she saw that he wasn’t alone. The annoying stranger in leather was sitting with him. She was about the head back when her phone rang. She only answered it because it was Graham.

“Hey.”

“You still at the station?”

“No, I’m taking Henry home. I didn’t know where blankets and things were, though, if you don’t mind stopping by and checking on things.” She was careful, no matter how softly she was speaking, not to say anyone’s name. It wasn’t going to keep quiet for long, not in this town, but she needed to talk to Henry alone.

“Yeah, I’m about to head out of here. French has a broken arm and a couple of cracked ribs. He’s going to have some humdinger bruises tomorrow. All in all he’s pretty lucky.”

“Sure, everyone’s lucky tonight.” She shook her head. “I’ll talk to you later, okay? And I’ll pick up the donuts tomorrow.”

“Guess we’ll need an extra one.” Emma could hear the faint sound of someone being paged in the background. “And Emma? I really liked the dress.”

He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he hung up. She had some thinking to do, about if she really would have canceled the date. About what she wanted. About if he was going to see the little red dress again. That all had to wait.

“Hey Emma. Is dad with you? We could have an ice cream before we go home.”

“Nice try, kid. Even if Ruby hadn’t ratted you out I can see the chocolate in the corner of your mouth.” She debated asking the stranger why he was talking to Henry, but she didn’t have the energy for another conversion where she had no idea what was happening. Instead she nodded her head with the barest acknowledgment and ignored the way he was looking at her dress. “Your dad asked me to pick you up. It’s past your bedtime.”

“Dad’s not home yet?” As usual the kid was way too clever, already suspecting something was wrong.

“I’ll tell you all about it when we get home, okay?” She might not know much about being a parent, but she knew a lot about needing privacy when rugs got pulled out from under you.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Emma glanced at the stranger who was way too interested in their conversation. The diner was empty enough that not many other people were around. Henry loved his spy stories and often pretended he was on secret missions. Emma decided to use it to her advantage. “There’s some stuff happening but it’s code word clearance only.”

“Okay.” Henry bit his lower lip as he slid from the booth and followed her to the front door. He was preoccupied enough that he didn’t notice he’d forgotten his backpack, which had somehow moved from his side of the table to the floor next to the stranger, along with the book inside.

On the short ride home Henry was quiet, looking out the window until they pulled into the driveway. His silence ended about two seconds after Emma closed and locked the front door.

“Where’s my dad?”

“Let’s sit down.” Emma would have loved a minute to run upstairs and change into something more comfortable, but it wasn’t like anything about the next couple of minutes was going to be comfortable.

“The only time dad doesn’t come home at night is when he’s at the cabin and he always takes me.” When Emma sat down on the sofa he didn’t join her, but remained standing. “What happened?”

“Have you ever gotten in trouble at school?” She doubted it. Mary Margaret’s concerns were usually about him being too quiet. He didn’t take after her, fortunately, in that regard. Thirteen different schools and she’d been sent to the principal in all but two of them.

“One time dad had to pick me up because I got into a paint fight with someone who ruined my art project. It was a Mother’s Day card.” Emma closed her eyes for a moment. Crap. She remembered plenty of mom and dad gifts made in art class. She’d dreaded those holidays.

“When you get in trouble at school you have to go see the principal. Me and Graham, we’re sort of like the principals for the town. We help people when they need us, and when people are fighting we have to tell them to stop.”

“My dad was fighting?” Henry sounded as surprised as Emma had felt. “He never fights. He usually says bad things about people after they leave if he’s mad.”

“He got in a fight this time.” Which wasn’t really accurate, considering the rope and tape that had bound his opponent, but she didn’t need to get into details.

“Emma, is my dad in time out?” Henry finally sat next to her, turned slightly so their knees touched.

“You could say that.” It sure sounded better than ‘hey kid, I arrested your dad.’

“For how long?”

“I don’t know, Henry. Graham and I are going to have to figure that out. But he’s not hurt and he’s safe. He’s just going to have to stay at the station for a little while.” She hoped ‘little while’ was at least close to the truth. She didn’t know what she was going to do if they had to hold Gold for any length of time. They didn’t have the facilities for a longer jail sentence and she didn’t have the ability to parent full time. Henry didn’t deserve that.

“He’s in one of the jail cells, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Emma nodded reluctantly.

“Can I see him?” Henry, who usually sounded old for his age, suddenly sounded young.

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow, okay? Right now you need to get to bed.” She couldn’t imagine he’d fall asleep anytime soon. She knew she wouldn’t. Maybe she’d call Graham and check in one last time for the night. Maybe they wouldn’t just talk about work.

Maybe she’d have that drink she couldn’t accept from Ruby.

“Are you going back to work?” Henry leaned in, his head on her shoulder.

“Not tonight. I’m staying right here, okay? You’re not going to be alone.” She could promise that much, at least.

The jail cell in Storybrooke’s sheriff’s station had more to recommend it than the dungeon under Snow White’s castle. It was cleaner, better lit, and the cot was more comfortable. That didn’t mean Gold was any happier about being behind bars. He didn’t blame Emma, no matter how inconvenient her timing had been the night before. No, the blame was split between Moe French and Regina. Moe French had taken the only thing he had left of his Belle. And he was certain that Regina was behind it.

His cup. It had been enshrined in his great hall for almost six years before the curse began. In this world it sat alone on the shelf of a display case. Like shadows from a dream he could remember his Belle dropping it in this world as well, her soft fingers caressing the broken bit. He could remember her being in his home, long before Henry entered his life. Curled up on the couch with a book from his library. Teasing him in the kitchen. Dancing with him in the garden. He knew it was all a lie, memories created by the curse, but like a double-exposed picture they were hard to separate from the real memories of a castle a world away.

When he had told Emma of the version of his Belle this world remembered he could see her walking down the steps of the pink house for the last time. He could remember the pale pallor of her skin when he had visited the morgue. Her father had refused to identify the body. There were many nights he’d stood on the bridge and thought about joining her, but he was too much of a coward. The memories were not real, he knew now, but the guilt and rage were no different here then they were in another world.

“You don’t look like you got much sleep.” The sheriff was back not long after the sun rose. He’d offered to stay the night, but Gold preferred the time alone.

“No offense, but the accommodations don’t suit me.” He wasn’t sure if he’d slept at all, or had only dreamed while still being awake. It didn’t matter.

“Leroy doesn’t tend to complain. He snores, though.” To Gold’s surprise Graham approached the cell with two paper cups in hand. The one he handed off through the bars smelled herbal. He wouldn’t have thought Graham knew or cared enough to bring tea rather than coffee.

“Yes, well not all of us can fall into a drunken stupor.” He’d seen the dwarf around town, his grumpiness taking on a harder edge being separated from his brothers. The only thing he and Leroy had in common, however, was a dislike for the local nuns. “I don’t suppose you have a place to shower this morning?”

“Sorry, not right now but we’ll figure that out.” Graham crossed the room to his office, shedding his jacket and leaving his coffee on his desk. He was back a moment later with a second offering. Gold frowned in confusion at the walkie talkie.

“Why?” He didn’t reach out to take it.

“Someone wants to talk to you. Channel four.” Graham turned it on and held it through the bars again.

“Dad?” The sound of static was soon replaced by the voice he wanted to hear the most, and most dreaded. He snatched the walkie talkie from Graham’s grasp and pulled it close.

“Henry.” His son had spent the night without him. Only a handful of times in the boy’s life had that happened. “How are you son?”

“I’m fine. Emma said I have to go to school. She made breakfast but the toast got burned. We’re having cereal.” Cereal was a rare treat; he didn’t think it was hearty enough to get a growing boy through the hours to lunch. It didn’t matter today; he knew Emma was doing her best.

“Emma’s right. School is important.” He knew that Mary Margaret would keep a close eye on him. She loved the boy, somehow instinctively knowing that he mattered more to her then she knew.

“I want to come see you but Emma said after school Are you really in jail? Emma said you got in a fight with someone. Were they a bad guy, like Saruman?”

“No, not like that.” If he only knew that it was his dad that had more in common with Saruman. “I got angry at someone I knew a long time ago, who hurt someone I cared about. But that doesn’t make what I did okay. Fighting is wrong, Henry.”

“Unless you’re protecting someone else, right dad?”

“If it’s really about protection,” he agreed. Like Bae, his Henry was already more of a hero than his father.

“But you were just fighting and that’s why Emma had to put you in time out, right dad?”

For the first time in more than a day Gold laughed. Time out brought up an image of Henry, three years old and covered in cocoa powder, trying to make his own drink after he’d been told no. “Yes, Henry.”

“Emma says it’s time to go, dad. You’ll be home soon, won’t you?”

“Let Emma know if there’s anything you need right now, son. I’ll see you soon.” He couldn’t lie, and he didn’t have an answer. His anger had gotten the best of him, and he didn’t yet know the cost. “I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too, dad.” The walkie talkie returned to static. Gold turned it off and set it down on the cot next to him. Graham had retreated to his office, giving him at least the illusion of privacy. He looked up and found the sheriff bent over paperwork. For a man currently without a heart he was kinder than most people Gold knew. He would have to find a way to thank him.

“You were supposed to go on a date last night.” By mid-afternoon Gold was going stir crazy. It took a lot of willpower not to pace the small space he was allotted. At least he hadn’t started trying to climb the walls. He’d done that once upon a time; it wasn’t a good thing. His day had been broken up very little. There had been a donut for breakfast and a pastrami sandwich for lunch. Other than that there had been a few conversations and a great deal of staring at the clock. Graham had escorted him to the bathroom a few times, the extent of his freedom. The station didn’t have a shower, though, and he still wore the suit he’d put on the day before. “Another regret from last night.”

“I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” The moment she spoke Emma’s face went carefully blank. He knew that look. She hadn’t meant to say that. Suddenly the papers on her desk seemed very interesting from the focus she was giving them.

“Having second thoughts about the sheriff?” He’d been gone the past hour with some vague mention of ‘rounds’ which might have been true or might have been about giving them some privacy to talk about Henry and how he was coping. Gold hadn’t noticed anything unusual between the two of them.

“More like second thoughts about me.” Emma gave up the pretense and came to sit on the edge of the sofa. “It’s not the date, it’s what comes next.”

“A second date?” He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, waiting. He had a pretty good idea what she meant.

“Two dates I can handle. Maybe even three. But after that it’s not just going out on a date. It’s something more. Graham is a really great guy whose last relationship was really bad. He doesn’t need another disaster.”

“And you’re certain it would be a disaster?” ‘You could’ve had happiness if you just believed that someone could want you. But you couldn’t take the chance.’ He could almost hear Belle, from a lifetime and a world away. She would have believed in Emma and the Sheriff.

“It always is. Casual I can manage. Anything else and I fuck it up.”

“You haven’t fucked up anything with Henry. And while I can’t say much for your accommodations here I have no other complaints about you as a houseguest.”

“It’s not the same. Plus the fact that I haven’t messed up too badly with Henry yet just means the other shoe hasn’t fallen.”

“Emma, there’s no one in the world I would trust with Henry more than you.” She didn’t see herself as a mother, not yet, but he could see it. It hurt to know that there might be a time when he was no longer the best parent for Henry, but at least he knew his son would have a fierce protector in his mother. “If anything were to happen to me…”

“You haven’t even been in here for a day yet, Gold. Let’s not get all dramatic.” Never overly comfortable with emotions, Emma shifted slightly. Gold could almost see the wall building around her. He knew a lot about walls.

“I shut out love when it was mine for the taking, Emma. And love is like a delicate flame. You can’t turn smoke back into fire. When it’s gone it’s gone” She looked so much like her father. He almost shook his head at the irony of giving them both advice in the same twenty-four hours. “One of us should learn a lesson from all this, and I’m afraid that it’s too late for me. It’s not too late for you.”

“I should call Graham. To find out when he’s going to be back,” she clarified. “It’s almost time to go pick up Henry.”

“Of course.” There was nothing else for him to say. Perhaps he’d said too much already.

Emma made her call and stayed at her desk, making it clear she wasn’t going to be talking anymore. Perhaps he’d ask Emma to pick up a few books when she took Henry home. It would at least alleviate a little of the monotony. He would need to start putting together his legal defense, at least. He was about to ask when Regina walked into the station.

Damn. If there were going to be bars between them he'd prefer she was the one on the inside.

“Deputy Swan, you may go. I need a moment alone with your prisoner.” She walked through the station as if she was still royalty.

“I’m not going anywhere.” It was nice to see, the way she stood between his cell and Regina. Nice, but not conducive to learning what Her Majesty wanted. She hadn’t set Moe French up simply for a laugh.

“It’s time to pick up my son, Emma. Why don’t you take him out for an ice cream?” He couldn’t help rubbing it in that Henry was his child. Regina had been desperate to be a mother once, a fate he was always glad Henry had avoided. Regina didn’t treat her possessions any better than she treated her enemies.

“I’m not leaving you alone with her.” He knew her concern for him was genuine, but as she looked over at the doorway he knew that she was worried about more than just him. Graham should be back any minute. All the more reason to get their little talk over with.

“She can’t do anything but talk, and that’s nothing to worry about. You can bring me back a cone.” He smiled to reassure her.

“Run along dear,” Regina commented dismissively. A poor decision on her part since it almost made Emma change her mind. After a moment’s hesitation, though, she went for her coat.

“Just this once,” she said as she left. Gold waited a moment before saying anything.

“Come to test out your reelection speech on a captive audience, Madame Mayor?”

“Perhaps I just came to admire the view. I could get used to this.” When she smiled she was every inch the evil queen.

“Please, sit.” He was careful not to use the trick too often, but the fact that she was forced to comply wiped the grin off her face. She sat on the edge of the couch where Emma had been not long ago.

“I heard you did quite a number on that poor florist. At least you didn’t break his legs; it would be tragic if he had to walk with a limp.” As usual Regina was not subtle, going for the easy hits.

“There’s no reason to start pretending you care about anyone else, dearie. Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here.” When she glanced at her purse he knew. Relief flooded him. “When two people both want something the other has, a deal can always be struck. Do you have what I want?”

“Yes.” She was so smug, so proud of herself. He was reminded of a child figuring out a task on their own for the first time.

“So, you did put him up to it.” He’d only had a small flicker of doubt. On his own Maurice might have smashed up his house. Might even have stolen. He wouldn’t have gone after the cup. He had no way of knowing the significance.

“I merely suggested that strong men take what they need.” He almost laughed at Moe French being called a strong man. He was a weak and insignificant person. How his Belle had come from such a man he didn’t know.

“And you told him just exactly what to take.” She had been more observant than he had realized, to understand the significance of his cup.

“We used to know each other so well, Mr. Gold.”

“Did we?” He understood her. She was the worst he’d ever done, molding her into the darkness he needed. The curse castor and the curse breaker, two women he’d manipulated into being. Both so hurt by his actions. But while Emma had his guilt and sorrow, Regina had his scorn. He understood her, but she didn’t know more than a fraction of who he was. “I know you well enough to know you have what I want. The question is what you want in return.”

Her eyes narrowed. He wasn’t playing her game. She wanted to gloat. But she wanted something else and that was what he needed to know, almost as much as he needed his treasure returned. “I don’t have all day, dearie. If you’re not interested in a trade…”

“I want you to answer one question. And answer it simply. What’s your name?”

“It’s Mr. Gold.” So that was her game. He hadn’t expected that, and had to work hard to sound as if he didn’t have a clue what she meant. It seemed his four-month advantage had come to an end. She knew that she wasn’t the only person who remembered.

“Your real name.”

“Every moment I’ve spent on this earth, that’s been my name.” He was stalling, trying to figure out the best way to play her and still get what he wanted. The fact that he was so clearly frustrating her was just a bonus.

“But what about moments spent elsewhere?” He wondered how long she had suspected. Did she know that he was the one that had hit her when she was trying to kill Graham? Did she think that he had known the whole time?

“What are you asking me?”

“I think you know. If you want me to return what’s yours tell me your name.” She knew. There was no way he could deny it. All he could do was use it.

“Rumpelstiltskin.” With a single word he could feel Mr. Gold and all his illusions of humanness shed. Decades fell away and he was in another cell hidden in a cave, feeling the bitter taste of an almost victory that would destroy everything he knew. When he grasped the bars he could almost feel the crackle of unusable magic under his skin. “Now give me what I want.”

“Such hostility.” Like a child poking a dangerous animal she couldn’t resist baiting him. She probably thought she was hiding the fear in her eyes.

“Oh, yeah.” He wanted her to be afraid. He needed it, to make sure she didn’t come near those he cared about. She had played her role in taking his Belle. She wouldn’t endanger Henry. He needed Emma safe too; the curse would be pointless without the Savior.

“Over this?” When he took the cup from his purse he stared at it, hating her fingerprints in the same place where Belle’s had once been. He forgot to breathe. At least he knew she hadn’t destroyed it. “Such a sentimental little keepsake.”

“Thank you Your Majesty.” The moment it was close enough he snatched it, pulling it from her hold. He slunk back from the bars and cradled it carefully in his hands. Other than the chip it was undamaged. Belle’s cup, safe again in his possession. He took a breath and pulled his gaze from it. Regina was already too aware of its significance. He looked at her. “Now that we’re being honest with each other, let’s remember how things used to be, shall we? And don’t let these bars fool you, dear. I’m the one with the power around here. I’m going to be out of here in no time, and nothing between us will change.”

It was a promise. It was a threat. And though he’d long since abandoned any gods it was a prayer.

“We shall see.” Always one to feel like she had the last word, Regina was quick to leave.

Gold starred at his treasure until he heard voices. Graham, Emma, and Henry all entered the station at the same time, just a moment after Gold slipped the cup into his pocket. He’d rather avoid explaining it.

“Dad.” Henry raced for the cell, his hands touching the same bars Gold had held onto just minutes ago.

“Henry.” He was grateful to see his son, as much as he hated that Henry would forever have the image of jail bars in his head now.

“We were afraid a cone would make a mess.” Emma unlocked the cell door and stepped inside, handing Gold a paper cup with a scoop of ice cream inside. He was certain the rainbow sprinkles were Henry’s doing. “If I leave the door open you’re not a flight risk, right? I think someone might like to keep you company.”

“Can I really?” Henry looked up at Emma, eyes shining bright and the remains of ice cream on his lip.

“I can’t see that it would hurt anything. I’ve got some paperwork to do.” She tried to head for her desk, but Henry stopped her with a fierce hug around her waist. Emma stiffened briefly before relaxing and returning the hug. “Go on, kid. I think your dad could use one of those.”

Henry ran into the cell and flung himself at his dad. Gold pulled him onto his lap, careful of the cup in his pocket, and held him tight. One love was lost to him forever. One son was still out of his reach. But he still had Henry. “My boy.”

#verse: henry gold #fic: henry gold #my fic #emma swan #graham humbert #henry gold #gremma #swan believer #mr. gold

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m-b37-blog · 5 years

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Friends: A Fantastic Irony

Since its first episode in September 1994, Friends has captivated audiences with its witty humor, lovable characters and brilliant story line. Writers Marta Kauffman and David Crane, kept the show alive by creating drama between characters, especially Ross and Rachel. Audiences are constantly asking themselves, “when are Ross and Rachel finally going to get together?” “why haven’t they confessed their love for one another yet?” and even, spoiler alert, “are Ross and Rachel ever getting back together?” All of those questions are answered, but I regret to inform you, you may not get the answers you were hoping for. Unfortunately, the iconic duo of Ross and Rachel never get that happy ending we all thought they would. As much as audiences, including myself, loved the dramatic and twisted relationship of Ross and Rachel, the irony of it all is that they were never really great for each other. Raine C. from Affinity says it best, “While, to most people, Ross and Rachel may just seem like an imperfect couple, if you look further, their actions often get worse than that. Please remember they are far from perfect– or healthy– and should not be idolized as such.” The Duo constantly struggled with communication, they never develop a mutual respect for each other to support the other in their career, they were selfish, and they loved each other, but not enough to value the other person's time. As Damien Roche of Quora explains, they never really took enough time apart to determine why they were in a relationship and what things they could have improved on when they were split up. As much as we adore Ross and Rachel, their relationship wasn’t rooted in the principles that are required for a healthy working relationship; things like respect, communication, and love, however, their inability to understand how a relationship actually work was the stick of dynamite that destroyed everything.

Midway through season three, Ross and Rachel are fighting more and more frequently. It’s clear that their relationship is heading for the rocks, and it is heading there quickly. By putting in long hours at her new job, Rachel is barley attempting to make time for Ross and he’s feeling like their relationship is being pushed to the back burner. In the midst of one of their fights, Rachel gets so fed up with Ross and in a fit of rage says, “maybe we should just take a break” Ross doesn’t think she is being serious and replies, “okay you’re right. Let's take a break… lets get some frozen yogurt, or something.” After a long agonizing pause, Rachel looks at Ross and says, “no. A break from us.” Only seconds after Rachel expresses her desire to take a break, Ross storms out the door. No conversation, no clarification, nothing on what the “break” actually means. At this point, I don’t even think Rachel even understands the severity of what she has just said. b Their severe lack of communication during this fateful conversation ultimately lead to their demise, not to mention the inability to trust on another. Rick Peterson from the Virginia Tech Department of Human Development says, “poor communication is usually found in unhealthy family relationships.” If Ross and Rachel would have spent just 60 seconds discussing the parameters of their “break,” they would have avoided a lot of heartache for themselves, not to mention the people around them. Great job of making things awkward.

After leaving Rachel's apartment, Ross goes straight to the bar where he finds Chandler and Joey. While trying his best to enjoy himself at the bar, Ross can’t stop thinking about what happened and decides that he doesn’t want to split up. Ross runs to the phone to call Rachel and hears a man's voice in the background. It’s Rachel’s co-worker, Mark. Again, instead of talking about it with Rachel and asking for an explanation, Ross immediately jumps to conclusions and assumes they broke up because Rachel is planning already planning to spend the night with Mark. Yet another catastrophic mistake. When Ross hears Marks voice, he hangs up the phone and storms off; sounds familiar, right? Ross will soon find out that Mark is completely harmless and had only intended to lend a listening ear to Rachel shortly after she went through one of the most devastating fights of their relationship. By the time Ross learns of Mark’s intentions it will be too late and Ross will have obliterated all chances of mending his tattered relationship. Frustrated and dvistated at the bar, Ross eventually runs into the copy store girl Chloe…

In many of the articles I read on the topic of relationships, one overarching topic prevailed; relationships are not a walk in the park and take a lot of work and dedication on both parts. KC Rasch on Thought Catalog says, “dedication is the most important aspect of any relationships.” I’m sure that KC, and anyone who has been in a committed relationship will tell you that relationships are not a walk in the park. If you put two people in a room together for long enough, one of them will start to find all the little things they don’t like about the other. Those problems, if not properly addressed, can cause catastrophic outcomes. I suggest that there are three main things that can lead to a healthy, strong relationship regardless of ethnicity, culture, age, and past; communication, respect, having a list of priorities with your significant other at the top and most of all, love.

Over the course of Friends it’s clear Ross and Rachel struggle with the inability to effectively communicate with one another. Based on the examples given above, they are either terrible at expressing their feelings, or they have never found an effective way of bringing up difficult conversations.

Many couples trek through rough patches, addressing difficult and sensitive topics can be hard, but things like communicating clearly and directly can help with being able to address them effectively and properly. At the time of their break up, Ross and Rachel spent absolutely zero time discussing the parameters of the “break.” The confusion lead them both wondering, what next? If they would have spent just ten minutes discussing what was to happen during the break, the outcome would have been very different. In the same article mentioned above by Rick Peterson, he says, “communication within the family is extremely important because it enables members to express their needs, wants, and concerns to each other.” By helping them feel comfortable with talking to us, we are nonverbally encouraging them to express their frustrations with us, even if those feelings are caused, in part, by us.. They need to feel like they are going to be heard. To help understand “their needs, wants, and concerns” significant others and spouses need to focus on how they are expressing their feelings; are they being expressed concisely? As the listener, we need to be actively paying attention and giving important nonverbal cues such as nodding and responding, when appropriate, that suggest we are following what they are saying. With so many distractions in the world like social media, neighbors, work, and school, it can be difficult to give full undivided attention to individuals while talking to them. Peterson suggests that maintaining eye contact can be key to showing you are listening.

The final key to effective communication is the ability to understand nonverbal cues. In a conversation, non verbal cues suggest a person's emotional state: if they are angry, they might fold their arms and tilt their head down with a scowl; if confused, a puzzled look; if happy, a smile on their face. Peterson sums it all up with a perfect explanation in saying, “An essential aspect of effective communication is listening to what others are saying. Being an active listener involves trying your best to understand the point of view of the other person.” If you think about your own life, at work or at home, most of your arguments or debates stem from different viewpoints. The most frustrating things about an argument is not being understood. The ability to understand a different viewpoint and change your outlook on something can be the process in which arguments are settled. All nonverbal cues can be seen within someone's demeanor. Paying close attention to those non-verbal will help you become more effective in communication. But, this concept alone does not make you into a relationship expert, adding respect to your arsenal of relationship tricks will definitely help.

I the case of Ross and Rachel, Ross has a difficult time allowing Rachel to be her own person. At this point in the show, Rachel has made something of herself! She has gone from a coffee house server, to a high ranking employee in the fashion industry. Ross however, doesn’t even seen to notice, nor does he take her personal life into consideration. Take the break up episode for example. Ross was planned a romantic anniversary dinner when Rachel calls and tells him she has to take care of an emergency at the office. Instead of respecting her space and letting her take care of things at work, Ross gathers up a picnic and marches over to her office to surprise her. Now, let’s not forget to appreciate the effort that Ross is putting in, but the way he goes about it is a little invasive. When Ross arrives at Bloomingdale’s, Rachel was extremely surprised! Ross blatantly disregarded her request to stay home and let her deal with the emergency at work. This is where it gets interesting though. After Ross keeps pushing and pushing for Rachel to stop working and spend time with him, she snaps and tells him to leave. Ross is not the only one who handles the situation poorly… Ross should have stayed home like Rachel asked, and Rachel should have taken a small amount of time to thank Ross for the kind gesture on their anniversary. In the article “Families First: Keys to Successful Family Functioning Communication,” Peterson discusses the importance of spending time together in order to strengthen bonds. Ross had good intentions, but the way he went about doing it was wrong. Spending time as a couple is extremely effective in deepening your love for one another. Stepping away from the busy world and enjoying each others company over a nice dinner or a fun night out can reignite a flame that all too often seems to die down in relationships. In “Secrets of the Forever Couples” written by Anna Tyzack, she interviews multiple couples, many of which have been together for more than 40 years! A common theme persists amounts all of them: Spend time together. One couple said, “Even when our three children were small, we forced ourselves to spend time on our own, even if it was just cinema and a pizza.” This couple understood the importance of spending time together and later stated that they were “religious” about going away once a year. Time spent alone is a great way to reflect on why you love one another and lets you reconnect. Time spent together and respect of your significant others time is important, but just as important is knowing where your priorities lie.

Along with a select number of other things, significant others/spouses should top the list of priorities. Teresa Newsome of Bustle magazine says, “there are times when school, work, health, or family stuff needs to be at the forefront of your partner's radar, but you still deserve to feel like you're important. You still deserve a piece of whatever time they have left to give…” All priorities that fall near, or at the top of their radar should include things that benefit the wellbeing of your relationship. Some of those things could include: working to make money to provide a good living; attending school and working toward a promotion; saving to provide for your kids; and as mentioned above, dedicating time for each other. Rachel has recently started a dream job working at Bloomingdale's which practically consumes all her time. This constant attention to her work is starting to wear on on Ross, he is beginning to feel neglected and less important than her job. Rather than talking about it and using the communication strategies listed above, Ross decides that it’s a better idea to push through her wall she has had built and make her pay attention to him. Ross’s push to be noticed causes more problems than solutions. There is a certain amount of respect that needs to be maintained when it comes to relationships. Spouses, boyfriends, and girlfriends need to keep a level head and realize that just because their significant other is busy, does not mean they have forgotten about you. This is when communication skills come in handy. Couples need to work together and find time in their busy schedules to support and uplift one another. Being selfless and making time for the other person can be the saving grace in a relationship. Just spending time together gives couples time to reflect on why they fell in love in the first place, it gives them a chance to have private conversations with one another and it even gives them time to share an intimate moment and express their love for one another.

Relationships take time, dedication and energy on both parts. Not every relationship is going to be easy, some require more work than others, but through effective communication, respect, understanding priorities and an immense amount of love, it can work. Unfortunately in the case of Ross and Rachel, they didn't make… but they are the example of what not to do. We can all learn from their “example.” Don’t ever walk out on a fight, don’t mix up your priorities, always show respect for them, and love them like they are the only person in the world because after all, “all you need is love.”

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fluidityandgiggles · 6 years

Text

Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 10

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 5, Last Chapter

Writing Masterlist - for previous chapters not otherwise linked, Read on AO3

Notes (I guess): It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for! Well... I hope so...

Yeah, it took me a month to get this chapter on the road, but... I can’t really be blamed. Well, I can, but let’s be fair, I’m in India right now, I have almost no wifi and I’m mostly relying on data (I ran out of data while writing this and now have to wait forty minutes to get data again... oops...), I managed to get The Schmuel Song from The Last Five Years stuck in my head out of boredom, and really I planned to update much earlier but sometimes... chapters get stuck.

I’m sorry I’m updating this late... I hope the fact that this is the longest chapter yet A N D that something y’all have been waiting for is going to happen will make it up!

As always, all the thanks to @broadwaytheanimatedseries for the original idea, to @whatwashernameagain for her original story and for being such a sweetheart, and to @winglessnymph, @asleepybisexual and @anony-phangirl for all their help, even if it’s just listening to my ideas and giving feedback (you’re all wonderful and I love you so much!)

Tag list (sort of): @bunny222, @ab-artist, @secretlyanxiouspersona, @your-username-is-unavailable, @virgilcrofters, @why-things-go-boom, @ilovemyspoopydad, @violetblossem, @maybe-i-like-the-misery

(Wanna be tagged? Just lemme know!)

Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). This chapter is a bit lighter, but keep this in mind.

—————

Saturday, December 21st, 2002

Christmas at the Harris shoebox was never that festive to begin with.

There was always some sort of rush hour-type boost in sales on and off-Broadway, or at least that's how David explained it to Remy when he was younger, so he would only really be home if he only had matinees or if, God forbid, Christmas (either eve or day) fell on a Monday. And Remy was always busy with school, at first with his program in Columbia and then his project at Bronx Science and now…

Well, now was no different. Christmas Eve was going to be on a Tuesday, next Tuesday to be exact, and Remy was too busy reading ahead in his psychology books.

India dropped him off in Manhattan on her way to Johns Hopkins. They got out a day early to go from Boston to Manhattan - Remy didn't have exams that day anyway - and stayed over at Remy's overnight before the second half of the ride. "They", of course, also included India's girlfriend Jenna, who was the one driving. She was a wonderful human being and Remy honestly couldn't believe he never met her before. It felt like they knew each other for ages! (David wasn't happy when two twenty-something year olds crashed on his couch that Sunday night, without warning, but Remy told him they're leaving first thing in the morning. He still wasn't very happy at that, but maybe going with it was the best option here.)

"You know who I ran into on my lunch break today?" Remy raised his head and took off his reading glasses (he was starting to need glasses for more than reading…) to look at his father, who - at eleven forty-five at night - finally got home from tonight's show. "Come on, ask."

"Who did you run into on your lunch break, dad?"

"Do you remember Michelle Tan?"

Of course Remy remembered Michelle Tan. She took chemistry and engineering and always looked down on him as if learning psychology made him less than her. Not to mention that when he showed up to graduation with short hair - his first step towards socially transitioning, really - she kept saying the nastiest things to him about how inappropriate it was.

"What about her?"

"Nothing, she just asked how you're doing." David threw himself on the couch next to Remy, taking off his shoes and opening his shirt in the process. "I said that you're doing alright and that your degree was going okay."

"Oh. Okay."

"...that's all you're going to say? Oh okay?" Remy pulled his shoulders. What else was there to say, really? "Thought you'd be a bit happier that—"

"Dad, Michelle Tan is the one who came to me after graduation and told me that short hair is undignified and that just because I think it makes me more of a boy doesn't mean that I am. Do you really think I'd be that excited about you running into her on your lunch?"

"I didn't know. I had no idea."

"It's okay."

David was working on a new show by Tony Kushner. He promised Remy that he's not going to spoil anything to anyone this time (though let's be honest, he said that about Dancing At Lughnasa in 1991, and Rent in 1996, and…). He stayed out late for the workshop, and barely had any time to care for himself. He never did whenever a new show started.

Remy could forgive him for forgetting stuff.

However, this neglect was absolutely and utterly unacceptable.

"Can you take a day off tomorrow? I mean, it's just the workshop, I doubt Eliza would mind it if you didn't come." David hummed in agreement. "So it's decided. Tell Eliza you're not coming tomorrow. We're gonna, like… do absolutely nothing tomorrow. We'll go somewhere fancy, like that diner on—"

"Since when are pancakes fancy to you, Remy?"

"Since I don't get to eat them anymore because I don't have time and I'm not using boxed mixes, thank you very much!"

"We can go to Hard Rock Cafe."

"Dad, Hard Rock isn't fancy. Sorry to disappoint. I just want to go to Times Square, to be honest…"

And then he turned on the TV and put a recorded episode of South Park. And Remy gave up. He went back to his book, to remember the teacher who made them read Oedipus Rex in English class, to get pissed at Freud who said that all men secretly want to fuck their mothers and called it the Oedipus complex without even knowing (probably) that Oedipus didn't want to fuck his mother but the moment he found that out he stabbed his own eyes out and exiled himself, accompanied by his children, which prompted the start of Oedipus at Colonus and Antigone.

Remy always felt bad for Antigone. But that was a personal issue.

——

"Remy? Remy! Hey, Remy, I'm here, and you're here, and—"

These sort of calls have been going on since about five minutes after David paid for their lunch and he and Remy started making their way to the subway back home. They started right around the… Martin Beck theatre? Yeah, around there. Remy was kind of scared to turn around and look who that is, until his dad told him to, so he did.

Emile was dragging his older sister and her dog behind him and he was getting really close.

"I didn't know you'll be here right now!" Emile's face was flushed, hidden under the hood of his fluffy mustard yellow coat. His glasses were covered in raindrops and all fogged up.

He looked absolutely adorable.

"Sweetie, what are you doing here?" At the hurt face, Remy quickly added "I'm just curious, that's all. Did you bring Mycroft too?"

"Well… no, I didn't. Mycroft stayed home. I can't bring him on holiday vacations. Our neighbors are looking after him, though! They're very nice and they're technically his grandparents! Well, kinda. I got him from a litter their bunnies had. It's a long story. And we were at the Man of La Mancha matinee just now! Julie and I have tickets to The Lion King at seven, and my parents are going to The Full Monty. It's a holiday tradition!"

Well then… hmm…

"Oh, you haven't met my dad yet!" Emile almost started jumping. "You have to—"

Someone tapped on Remy's shoulder. "I thought we're going home, not talking to cute boys on the street?" David asked jokingly.

"Hello, sir! I'm—"

"That's Emile, Dad. He's a friend. I told you about him. And his sister Juliana."

"But she's buying books so we're going to wait for her!" The tiny blond said oh so excitedly. He could never not get excited, it seemed. Remy loved that about him.

"What did you say her name was?" At David's raised eyebrow, Emile started jumping even more.

"Juliana! Yoo-li-a-na. It's Dutch, not English. She's named after our great-grandmother who died in Auschwitz. It's a really sad story, if I do say so myself—"

"Munchkin, we gotta go." The aforementioned woman who just got out of the bookstore grabbed Emile's hand and gave it a short squeeze. Her accent was even harsher than Emile's, but… Remy couldn't complain. He heard her speak before. He met her before. "Remmington, nice to see you again."

"You too, Julie. And Ladybug." At the sound of her name, the dog started wagging her tail quite happily. Remy never got to see her off-duty, but he assumed that this was the closest he'll ever get to.

"Mom and Dad are waiting. You coming or what?"

As the three went away, Emile waving goodbye quite enthusiastically and lending his sister a shoulder to lean on (Remy only recently found out why he did), Remy struggled to find the words to explain to his dad what just happened.

Thankfully, he didn't ask. Instead, David said "so that's your boyfriend, huh?", took his hand and pulled him in the direction of the subway. They still had to get home today.

——

Monday, December 23rd

"So we're staying here until… I think the fifth," Emile rambled on the phone. Sure, it was eleven thirty already, but… free minutes were more important than proper sleep schedules. Not that either of them had any of those. "After that were going to Missouri, my dad is taking me to Glore, you know—"

"I have no idea what Glore is.”

"It's a psychiatric museum. And after that we're going to California! To Disneyland, and then the murder museum."

Emile kept rambling about his plans, and he was so loud, Remy could hear his dad tell him to quiet down a couple of times. He was just so excited, and it was always so endearing…

"So what I'm trying to say is," Emile rambled away. "Would you like to hang out sometime? We could go see a musical! Like, umm… Rent! We can go see Rent! I haven't seen the new cast yet… I heard that Jai Rodriguez is awesome though!"

"I don't know… I can't really afford that—"

"Nonsense! What do you have me for if not for this sort of thing?"

"Remy, either you hang up now and go to sleep so you can deal with your grandparents tomorrow," David grunted from the couch, where he tried to sleep, "or I do it for you."

"Alright, boo, how about the twenty-seventh?"

"Sounds good to me!"

"Okay. Good night, Em."

"Good night!"

Remy didn't tell Emile that he actually saw Rent off-Broadway before. And… didn't exactly like it. Maureen, the only bisexual, was presented as promiscuous and very selfish (though that might've just been her personality, he had no idea, Jonathan Larson died before he could ask him) and Angel, the only character he ever truly identified with - a gay, genderqueer drummer who is HIV+ - is really the only main character to die, leaving the most wonderful and wholesome relationship in the show broken and sad and with a bad ending, while the horribly dysfunctional Roger and Mimi - both also HIV+ - got to have a happy ending.

And really, what type of bullshit was that? Gays have already been so villainized in the media, Remy did not need another one.

But he'd go. Just to be with his best friend. He really wanted to.

"Are you ready for the ride to Jersey?" David asked jokingly. Neither of them was ever truly ready for the six-hour (at best) long ride on the interstate to Red Bank. David's parents were, to say the least, terribly nosy and had no tact. Adding to that the fact that his cousin Gilbert (his aunt and her husband had a terrible taste in names, Remy decided rather early in life) wasn't going to come home for Christmas from his boarding school in Nova Scotia, also known as the only sensible member of the family with whom Remy could actually hold a conversation would not be home for Christmas…

This holiday was going to be a disaster.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

——

Tuesday, December 31st, 2002; 9:54 p.m.

Christmas was horrible. But Emile made it better.

This was how Remy described the holiday on his call to India on the thirty-first.

"What I mean is… you know the feeling when your family is just so bigoted and— yeah, okay, I'm sure you know that feeling." India laughed on the other side of the phone. It made him feel… strangely better. "So, like… my family are horrible, okay. My grandparents are, like, the worst. My grandma can't stop sticking her nose in everyone's business, and like, usually it's fine, it's not that bad, but last week my cousin wasn't home so she had more criticism to give to everyone else so she chose to pick on my sexuality, and like—"

"Pick on your sexuality?"

"She literally said ‘why can't you just be who you were when you were sixteen, you may not carry the family name but you will continue the bloodline'—"

"What twisted mind would say something like that?"

"My grandma, sweetie. This is my grandma."

India actually laughed at that. Remy could hear confused sounds from the other side, which he assumed belonged to that Jackson kid she talked about a couple weeks ago.

"Is she also the type of person who would say that Jenna is a nursing student because she's black and a woman?"

"I wouldn't put it past her to act like Professor McKenna. But anyway. So that's my grandma, and my grandpa is… he's deaf and senile. You can imagine what that's like."

India hummed. "Sounds like a fun holiday."

"Well, after coming back Emile and I went to see Rent. I still hate that musical but it was fun to watch it with him. And my boyfriend only called once like, three days ago. And I mean, rude much?"

"I'll bet. I got to talk to my psychiatrist, and… guess what."

"I'm scared of guessing."

"I'm gonna get my first doses of blockers and estrogen real soon, if everything goes right." Remy tried to avoid the tightness in his chest. "I know, I know… you've been waiting for this too."

"Is it weird that I can't wait to get mine but I'm still scared of when you'll get yours?"

"No, absolutely not. I totally understand. We all have a fear of change, peach. Some of us more than others. But it's going to be such gradual change that you won't even think of it, okay? It's exactly how I explained it to Jackson. Even when I get top surgery, which will probably be the most dramatic change, it's not going to be such a big shock. I promise."

India had to end the call rather quick after that. Apparently some doctor needed to talk to her about some stuff, and he could hear her grit her teeth before saying her goodbyes - the doctor called her "Mr. McGinty" - so it must not have been good.

He had a… sort of date, with Emile, at Times Square later. His sister was going to this bar in Greenwich right after the ball drop, so until then, she said she'd chaperone - as if they needed one. But Nathalie had some rules and stuff so they had to have her around, or else.

Whatever that else would be.

"Dad, I'm going out!" A hum of agreement came from his dad's room. Okay then…

Remy got his bag and his phone, sent a quick text to Chris wishing him a happy new year - he probably wasn't going to see it until Remy pointed it out to him when they got back to Boston - and left.

(He probably should check on his dad, but he was going to be alright. Two and a half years sober now, and he had his cartoons. He was going to be okay.)

——

11:57:11 12 13 14... p.m.

"I'm cold!"

"You're from Minnesota, Emile."

"I don't see your point."

Emile was wrapped in his own yellow coat and Remy's black coat (well, one of his three black coats; this particular one he got on a trip to Disneyland when his dad worked on the national tour of some musical, he already forgot) and was still freezing. How in the…

"Do you want to go to Starbucks and get a hot chocolate?"

"Is Starbucks even open at this hour?"

"There's one on fifteen hundred. It's open twenty-four hours."

"...okay, fine." Remy offered his hand and Emile quickly wrapped his arm around Remy's, allowing him to lead the way.

1500 Broadway wasn't the closest to the ball, but Remy was sure that they could make it there and back.

Maybe it was a bit of wishful thinking, but he was going to be an optimist this time.

11:58:28 29 30 31… p.m.

"We never told Juliana that we're going," Emile muttered through chittering teeth. "My mom is going to be so mad—"

"Emile, babe, calm down. We're almost there."

The huge building was already in their line of sight, and Remy couldn't feel happier. He could totally use a latte right about now, and Emile obviously needed a hot chocolate and a cookie. The poor thing was seconds away from becoming a human icicle.

He didn't want to be responsible for his best friend suffering from hypothermia, after all.

"You see that huge building over there?" Remy couldn't make out if Emile was nodding under all his layers or what.

"What about it?"

"We're gonna go to Starbucks in there, okay?"

"You're an addict, you know that?"

Remy didn't listen. So he liked his Starbucks, so what.

He dragged Emile behind him.

11:59:38 39 40 41… p.m.

The line was moving awfully slow for some reason. Remy had no fucking idea why so many people were at Starbucks so close to the ball drop…

Well, he was being a bit of a hypocrite.

"Can we get something to eat too?" Emile whispered to him, standing on his toes. The black coat from Disneyland was back in Remy's possession. The building was warm enough.

"Sure, why not?"

"Thanks, sweetie!"

Sweetie. Holy shit

"Schmuel would work till half past ten at his tailor shop in Klimovich," Emile sang to himself. Remy remembered that song very well. Norbert Leo Butz had a very… interesting way of singing it.

Then again, he never heard anyone else sing it.

He would ask Emile where he heard that song later.

"Forty-one years had come and gone at his tailor shop in Klimovich—"

"Ten, nine, eight…" oh crap.

Remy grabbed Emile's shoulder, shutting him up momentarily. It took just a couple of moments for either of them to fully realize what was going on before—

They kissed.

If there were fireworks they were blinded by the fluorescent lights and deafened by the loud cheers all around them, but they still kissed.

Kissing his blond was very different from kissing his boyfriend. Not that it felt wrong or anything, just... different. Nothing forced, nothing too overpowering. It was lovely, and sweet, and Emile was as soft as always. Nothing felt wrong there.

Not even the little voice that said that Chris won't like it. He wasn't there. He didn't need to know.

And so, they kissed.

——

Wednesday, January 1st, 2003

00:17 a.m.

"You saw The Last Five Years?" Remy asked, a cup of latte warming his rather freezing hands as he walked Emile back to his hotel (Juliana left them to go to a party in Greenwich Village).

"I didn't go to school for anything but my exams from mid-April. I saw that musical so many times, I kinda lost count."

"Oh, okay. Cool."

#kylo cant write #sanders sides #remy/sleep #emile picani #remile...? remile #keep him safe #sleep is for the weak #the remy centric prequel #tw: period appropriate transphobia

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anxietiesfinest-blog · 7 years

Text

Getting back to Goddess (sometime in November, 2k16)

It seems I have strayed from the lovely mentality I had at the beginning of the semester.

Strayed yes, but never lost it.

There was a time of great turmoil, the deepest misery I’d ever felt that hurled me into rebirth.

A new David, a refurbished David.

David 2.0

I remember having so much positivity around me that anything I wanted seemed to be in reach.

In a span of a month I lost my virginity, started doing drag, began taking FABULOUS classes at City College and reaffirmed my friendships.

I had fully withdrawn from my Zyprexa at this point, and had never felt more myself in my life.

On one of these nights a friend of mine kept going on and on about how I was a Goddess, about how magical I was and how I seem to always offer people love and a an ear at their most vulnerable.

I treated every single molecule with kindness, with love.

I gave selflessly and told no one of my good deeds, and regretted nothing when I ended up flat broke begging my mom to lend me 10 dollars for food.

At work: I didn’t kiss ass, I didn’t even kill the people with kindness, I MURDERED them with it. I learned the names of each and every housekeeper, greeted them with a smile, and began treating all these lovely ladies as the queens they are.

I brought light to my family, and never had so much confidence in my life.

What happened?

Stress.

Stress fucking killed my vibe, and I let this happen.

The carelessness of my actions in the past few months left me living paycheck to paycheck.

I went broke after the first week of school. By the second week I was hungry, and too proud to ask for help. Finally I called my mother, who picked me up from class because I felt like I would faint on the way home. I had a breakdown on the way and I threw my phone in the front seat and banged my hands on the dashboard like a child. I screamed “I don’t have fucking money to feed myself!” then quickly tried to regain my composure. I apologized to my mom afterwards, because I wasn’t mad at her, I was mad at the situation and at myself for being so careless with my money. I still haven’t regained my financial stability, but I’ve been able to swallow my pride and let people help out and it’s been better.

Stress from balancing work, school, family and a social life was exhausting.

Weeks ago I developed a stress induced rash on my hands, and on my scalp.

I had a dissatisfied guest take her anger out on me, and she later wrote and awful review about me READING ME TO FILTH. Mind you, this was all over the fact that she didn’t hear me say the laundry detergent was sold at the desk and she had to walk an extra 15 feet to get it.

My family was doing better, for a while but then slipped back into their old ways.

I struggled every day in dance class, with anxiety induced dizziness and feeling worthless. I felt I’d never be as good as the other students and thought that everyone believed me to be a waste of time.

PLEASE NOTE

Its not all as bad as it seems. When things start to get difficult, heavy you begin to count all the negatives in your life. With that said, I’d like to combat this negativity with a list of the things I HAVE done that allow me to feel proud of myself:

*I earned a dollar fifty raise at work, and believe me I FUCKING EARNED IT. I was so happy when my manager gave me the news I cried.

*I made quite a few new friends, GOOD FRIENDS that have all had similar experiences and hardships as I.

*I found a therapist that I like and started to go back to therapy.

*I’ve been slowly trying to rebuild my relationship with my father.

*I’ve apologized to everyone for the way I was when I was on medication, and have been working on forgiving myself and not blaming myself for that dark period.

*I’ve re-kindled a few friendships, for the better.

*It’s been months since I’ve practiced any significant self harm.

*3 people have now seen me naked. That’s 3 more than ever before.

*I’m coordinating an art show at my old counseling center.

*I refuse to dilute myself, save for the few people who can’t quite handle my eccentricities (difficult to explain)

*I’ve made strides in dance, and some days I really pull through and this sweet girl claps for me and always yells out “YAAAAS QUEEN!!!” and I cry every time of happiness.

HAD TO STOP BECAUSE MY BACK PAIN GOT SO BAD WILL CONTINUE LATER (I hurt my back on this day bending over trying to take a picture of a pastry on a bed of fruit loops)

[LATER] There’s a few things I never lost. I’m eternally grateful I never lost my walk. I used to struggle bad with self-confidence. After watching season 3 of Rupaul’s Drag Race I fell in love with Raja. Raja was tall, edgy and had legs that went on for days. When Raja came down the runway she never walked, she stomped. No matter what she wore, or what challenge it was she walked with OPULENCE as to say: “I OWN EVERYTHING.” When I started to rebuild I had to throw myself back into the world, and had no choice but to walk everywhere. I’m a strong believer of faking it till you make it, something my high school drama teacher engraved in me and possibly the best mantra I have acquired to date. I didn’t like how I walked so I pretended to be Raja. It was quite unnatural at first, but between steps I would repeat over and over in the back of mind “RAJA, RAJA, RAJA.” Eventually I didn’t have to rely on Raja, and this new bad-ass walk was my own.

I haven’t stopped writing.

Won’t.

Because even in the darkest corners of my mind I know that there is light, and I do need material if I’m going to write the next best-selling dark comedy to date (think Running with Scissors, but with a lot more DAVID FUENTES).

And even if I’m always broke, my rent will always be paid, my phone bill and bus pass will always be paid for.

And I will always be loved.

I want to look back on something I thought was flat out ridiculous. When I began therapy at the cove we created futuristic Dave; what ‘Better Dave’ would look like. I said that Better Dave has confidence. Better Dave isn’t ashamed of his body. Better Dave doesn’t care what others think, he is the epitome of himself and he doesn’t dilute himself for anyone. He is happier, though he can’t ALWAYS be happy. He is loving and he loves himself immensely. Better Dave stands tall, without a hunch and carries himself with style and grace.

A few months ago I met a girl. This was when I had just actualized this ‘Goddess’ state. I remember being entirely myself to her, and on that night my character knew no fictions. I talked about how bad my teeth were. I told her that I sometimes drank too much, but had been working on it. I told her my family was TOXIC, and that because of that I lived alone. I told her that at one point I was afraid to leave the house, and part of the reason was because I was self conscious of my awful posture.

She said “I don’t see anything wrong with your posture.”And I almost cried. It was honestly one of the nicest things I had ever been told, and it was a sign from the universe that I was doing far better.

A couple weeks ago I broke down during a therapy session. I realized that I had, for the most part become Better Dave. There was a sense of bitter sweetness, for I knew that my life had to of hit rock bottom in order for it to have done a 180.

There was hope, hope you could take to the bank and more hope than Obama pushed in the 2008 election.

I now understand my place in life. I have to do good, and love. I can’t hold on to things of the past, because holding on is what has brought so much pain. The next few months are going to be rough, and things may get more difficult, but I know that at the end of all this pain and suffering is beautiful rebirth. A feng shui of the mind, a fresh new beginning, a perpetual tabula rasa.

Just have to take things day by day.

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notreallybusy · 7 years

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A good catch (14/?)

On Tumblr:[Part1][Part2][Part3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6][Part 7][Part 8][Part 9][Part 10][Part 11][Part 12],[Part 13]

Also on:AO3, fanfic

Summary: Emma Swan is happy, she has her son, a good job and plenty of friends. Killian and Liam Jones arrive and Emma must re-evaluate her happiness. But there is more going on than meets the eye in the town of Storybrooke and Emma has to get to the bottom of it, but at what cost

Chapter 14 - Sleeping Buick

The Rabbit Hole wasn’t particularly helpful, that is she didn’t learn anything new. On the bright side she took spotting Jefferson at the bar calmly, managed to shakily ask him how Grace was doing before enquiring about Charles Teach. Jefferson almost looked concerned, “Old Charlie, usually quite a regular actually. About that time he got arrested he stopped coming in, thought maybe he took it as a wake-up call.”

Emma nodded, “We think maybe he left town then, or at least that is our best guess at the moment. Has John Silver mentioned him?”

Jefferson shook his head, “No, bit quieter but I assume that’s because he misses drinking with his friend.”

“He tried to assert they were just acquaintances when we questioned him,” Emma watched as Jefferson looked at her disbelieving.

“I don’t have any friends as close as they were to each other, so unless they had a falling out...”

Emma nodded, jotting down what he said. “Thanks Jefferson, let me know if you hear anything or if Silver happens to mention anything pertinent. He is probably just sore his buddy skipped town but I need to be sure.”

Jefferson nodded absentmindedly wiping down the bar in an almost laughably stereotypical way, “Will do. And Emma it was nice to see you, y’no like normal people.”

“You count me interrogating you about a missing barfly as normal?” Emma raised an eyebrow attempting to inject some comedy.

“Perhaps not,” Jefferson admitted. “But usually if something happens on one of my shifts David turns up.”

“Oh,” it hit Emma how well protected she had been by her friends. She remembered Ruby mentioning that she usually checked before they came to the bar but this must have been a complicated dance between all her friends. She remembered how many times Mary-Margaret practically forced her to let her take Henry home, was it because Jefferson would be collecting Grace?

She looked up to Jefferson’s chagrined expression, “You didn’t realise,” he stated.

Emma shook her head, “Guess I’m ready to face it all now.”

“I’m glad,” Jefferson added. “Anyway, catch you in front of the school gates some time?”

She laughed, “I am sure you will.”

...............................................

As per usual Mary-Margaret had outdone herself. Emma shook her head at the food that was being prepared, “You know that this is supposed to be a casual meal with friends?”

Her friend blushed, “Well I missed you so I thought I would put a little effort in, you know um... TGIF Friday.”

“The F in TGIF means Friday Mary-Margaret and please never ever say that again,” Emma laughed.

“Well I stand by missing you,” Mary-Margaret said smiling before enveloping Emma in a crushing hug. “I hate that David knows more about you than I do sometimes... do you want to talk about it?”

She leaned out of the Kitchen to spot Henry who was happily playing with Leo and David in the lounge. “I don’t want Henry to know yet.”

Mary-Margaret nodded earnestly, “Of course, does he have any idea?”

“I told him Rumplestiltskin has a connection to his father, I didn’t say that I had seen him.”

“Rumplestiltskin?”

Emma huffed, “What is the point in coming up with code names if he isn’t going to use them.”

“Oh right I suppose that makes sense, spinning straw into... well you know.” Mary-Margaret mused, “Henry came up with it then?”

Emma nodded, “of course. Thinking of Henry, his birthday. I was thinking horse riding, you know for the ‘knight in training’.”

Mary-Margaret was suitably distracted recommending the father of one of the kids in Henry’s class, but when she returned from writing down his phone number she went back to business. Now however the business was Killian Jones, so Emma told her everything. Mary-Margaret was in heaven, long had it been her ambition to set up Emma with someone much to Emma’s constant annoyance. Not only was Emma seeing someone but he was romantic, almost putting David to shame with their epic first date. Even just descriptions of their lunches had her reeling, and so with tears in her eyes she looked hopefully at Emma, “He sounds perfect Emma, finally someone who might deserve you.” Then her tone changed, “We need to have him round for dinner.”

Emma rolled her eyes, “Please calm down, I like this guy I don’t want to scare him off with you pretending to be my mother.”

Mary-Margaret playfully batted her away, “Its going to happen. Also I was planning on doing a spot of hunting next weekend, want to join?”

“You think I’m ready?” After one practice with Mary-Margaret and the bows she was finding it hard to believe she was ready to shoot something.

Mary-Margaret nodded, “You don’t have to shoot anything if you don’t want, but it might be nice to have company and its a bit hard for David to join me now with the baby and everything.”

“I’d love to, suppose David could be a babysitter then?”

“Yay! I’ll lend you some gear and of course David will look after Henry. What trouble are they getting up to in there?”

Emma leaned back again to survey the group, “Leo appears to be part of some kind of game that involves flying him around the room like a superhero.”

Mary-Margaret’s eyes widened, visions of potential disaster flashing before her eyes, “You know forget I even asked.”

Dinner was great, she felt closer to Mary-Margaret and it was the best she could offer by way of a family for Henry. It was at the end of dinner that she noticed her little boy drifting off, “Maybe its time we take this party animal home.”

She took him home and put him to bed, he went with little protest. After tucking him in and spending much too long watching him sleep she went to the living room. She made herself a hot chocolate and curled up on the couch ready to settle in for some shitty life-time movie until she felt tired enough to sleep. Emma pulled out her phone and saw a few alerts from her security system, she hadn’t even looked at her phone at dinner. Shit, she got up and grabbed her gun. It was the sensor in her bedroom that had been activated, it was only an hour and a half ago. What if they were still here?

She went up, checking Henry’s room first careful not to disturb him. Last thing he needed was his Mom panicking him over nothing, with a gun in her hand no less. That room was all clear so she went to the bedroom, to most people it would look untouched but Emma knew better. She was a little messy but she had a very good memory and her mess had been disturbed. She walked around carefully checking any hiding places before exhaling deeply, whoever was here had definitely left. She calmly checked her hiding spot for all the documents related to the case, it had not been disturbed. She replaced the box and made sure it was secure before going downstairs. She checked the feed from the camera’s on her phone.

Sure enough she saw a figure enter her window on the camera, deftly making their way around her room while disturbing very little. They were thorough, hood up the whole time and wearing black gloves, they checked most of the places people leave valuables before going downstairs. Disturbingly the figure spent quite a long time standing at the entrance to Henry’s room, they didn’t enter probably weighing up the probability that anyone would hide anything in their kid’s room and deciding not. The figure went down the stairs conducting a search quickly and carefully but obviously coming up with nothing. This was no burglar that was for sure. They even pulled out her laptop, and spent quite some time on it before putting it away. Did this mean they were able to get past its security? Their only mistake was when they had finished their search, the figure stood outside Henry’s room once again, then pulled out their phone, in the process the hood fell down. They turned talking animatedly on the phone to someone and she saw their face. She swore out loud. It was Neal, he had been in her loft... and now he knew about Henry. Would he put two and two together?

Emma was suddenly very afraid, the very thing she had been worried about, what if he wanted Henry? She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to process this, this was never supposed to be a reality. Why couldn’t she have bumped into him again and have him be reformed, moved on and maybe even with someone. Instead he was the same... maybe worse, the reality was she had no way of knowing.

Emma didn’t sleep, or at least she drifted off for all of five minutes before Henry was standing over her, “Why are you sleeping here? And why are you still in your clothes?”

Emma stretched her head pounding from lack of sleep, “I just couldn’t sleep kid. Do you mind putting on some coffee for me?”

“Okay,” Henry said slowly, clearly completely unconvinced.

She rubbed her eyes then called David quickly as she heard Henry banging around in the kitchen.

“Hey Emma.”

“Hey David, I have a problem.”

“What is it?” his voice full of concern.

Emma sighed, “Neal was here last night, I caught it. He was searching my place, he didn’t find out anything about the case but...”

“Henry,” David interrupted.

“Yeah well he knows he exists now, who knows what else. What the hell do I do?” Panic seeped into her voice.

David was quiet for a beat, “What can we do? I mean we just have to make sure someone is always with him, his window is bolted right?”

“So was mine, it didn’t stop Neal. He is a cat burglar since way back, I used to help him for gods sake. I’ll look into it though at least for his window.”

“What about camp, I mean Mary-Margaret will be there, you and I both know she could protect him and do you really want to pull him out?”

Emma felt sick, “I want to yes absolutely, but he will hate me and the only reason he was here was me and this investigation. He is just as much at risk if I keep him here.”

“So yes to camp and no more Henry wandering off when he likes?”

“No, I’ll let Regina know.” Emma wished she could expand the circle of people who knew about this but it was too risky.

“Are you okay?” David asked hesitantly.

“I spent the whole night sitting on the couch running through every worst case scenario, I must have checked on Henry fifty times. At least we can get Neal for breaking and entering right?.”

David’s response mimicked her own feelings, “Its just not worth it.”

Just then Henry came in the room completely covered in flour, “Mom I might need your help, you feel like pancakes?”

Emma laughed despite how shitty she was feeling, “Gotta go David. I’ll be in in a second Henry.”

“Its going to be okay Emma,” David reassured.

“I hope so,” Emma replied gloomily before putting down the phone and going into the kitchen to help Henry.

She tried to forget, really she did. But she felt like she was on the edge of a heart attack all weekend, not once was Henry out of her sight, except for bathroom breaks and sleep times (that would be a step too far). She tried to act normal and happy, and although a part of her was always happy to spend time with her son she was mentally and physically exhausted by the end of the day. They spent an inordinate amount of time in the hardware store as Emma tried to figure out the best way to make his window more secure. And Emma even managed a small smile when she demonstrated to him why she needed to improve the lock on his window by breaking into his room when the window was locked. Worryingly she had never seen him more proud of her, after she fixed the window she even taught him how to pick a lock, with of course the strict proviso that this skill was only to be used for good and not evil.

If Henry noticed her overprotectiveness he kept it to himself, even when he found her sleeping on an armchair outside his door because she couldn’t stand to leave him unguarded. Camp was certainly going to be fun.

Killian had been texting her all weekend, he had cottoned on that something was wrong from her useless monosyllabic answers but he hadn’t got annoyed or made her tell him. Instead sending her ridiculous animal pictures and marvel memes some of which she had shared with Henry. It might have been what got Henry to let her weird behaviour slide, that even when she was obviously worried about something she wasn’t pushing Killian away.

“So you and Killian are like a thing now?” Henry prodded.

Emma raised an eyebrow, “You might have to be a little more specific.”

“Like... y’no.... together like in love and stuff.”

Emma snorted in a not so very ladylike manner, “Jumping a little ahead of me there kid.” She smiled at her blushing son, “I like Killian, I like spending time with him. I hope maybe one day I can call it that but in the end you are the number one man in my life.”

Henry rolled his eyes at her, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m happy for you Mom, you’re getting better, letting people in. Even with whatever is happening it the moment.” He looked at her with a knowing smirk she couldn’t help but attribute to Neal. “Sleeping outside my room is a crazy move even for you, you don’t have to tell me if you can’t. I trust you.”

“Please stay like this forever,” she kissed his head. She marvelled at his understanding, she couldn’t really compare Henry to herself. By his age she had learned to be automatically distrusting of all adults, something that had stayed with her. Not one to give herself kudos, she was glad he felt safe and happy enough to have that attitude as much as it scared her. She started to prepare dinner, “So if I tell you Mary-Margaret might be a smidge hover-y at camp you won’t hate me?”

“I couldn’t,” he said confidently before he narrowed his eyes at her, “How bad is she going to be?”

They both laughed. After Dinner was simmering away Emma helped Henry to pack his bag reading off the schools recommended list but adding some pop-tarts and candy to keep him going, his hyperactivity was not going to be her problem she sniggered.

.....................................

When Emma dropped Henry off at school she waited until they started to file on to the bus, giving him an embarrassing kiss goodbye before going to talk to Mary-Margaret who was diligently directing students to the right bus. “I assume David talked to you?”

Mary-Margaret nodded, “I will make sure that he is always with someone Emma. I will do all I can.”

“Half of me wants to just take him home.”

Mary-Margaret was momentarily distracted telling a student where to take their duffel. When she looked back at Emma she could see the empathy in her eyes, “Can you guarantee it would be any safer? He broke in for information right?”

Emma nodded, “I can’t, and he did. Henry is a smart kid.”

“You are his mother so I assume he is kinda prepared.”

“I told him what to watch out for, so he is prepared as much as someone can be not knowing what they are supposed to be afraid of... if in doubt scream bloody murder.” Emma shook her head remembering Henry deciding the best way to show its effectiveness was by demonstrating in the apartment last night.

“We will keep him safe Emma.”

“I know,” Emma smiled as brightly as she could. “Its probably going to be nothing.”

Mary-Margaret nodded before getting caught up in a flurry of students. Emma waved as she left, “Have fun!”

She got some coffee for herself and David before trudging up to the office. David looked at her sympathetically, “You okay?”

“Its not even all this,” she said gesturing to the station. “That’s just icing on the cake. Its just missing him for a week, a whole week David. I get withdrawal after a weekend.”

“Believe me I get it, but selfishly part of my issues might be the extra child care.”

“I can bring dinner over tomorrow of you like?”

David smirked, “No romantic plans with Killian.”

“Not tomorrow.” She said cryptically. Truthfully they had plans Wednesday night. She was on call tonight and on Thursday just in case something happened, it rarely did. So she had two nights to fret about what Wednesday meant.

“Well then, I would be very glad of your company and food tomorrow. I am sure Leo will be too.”

Emma smiled and got to work distracting herself from her empty house, every so often she would reassure herself how much fun Henry must be having. Emma had never been on a school camp before, no-one was going to pay for a foster kid or group home brat to go. She once almost went camping, before that family sent her back to the group home... but she imagined it would be amazing. Emma was sure she would be hearing all about its amazingness in a few days.

The thought buoyed her through the day until she went home, to a quiet house, which normally wouldn’t bother her. Quiet being kind of a commodity for a single mom but knowing there was four nights of this was a bit tough. Emma reheated some leftovers and sat herself in front of the TV, catching up on her Netflix queue. After dinner she turned her attention to her investigation, it was just background really comparing logs from shipments that she actually had to store inventory. Tedious work and not exactly helpful. She was happy for the distraction when Killian began to text.

K: Not too lonely I hope?

She sighed at her empty living room, she was struggling not to just give up and call Henry but the reassuring text she got from Mary-Margaret about half an hour ago was keeping her sane, slightly.

E: MM tells me he is having fun. Me... not so much

K:Anything I could do ;)

Emma scoffed out loud at his suggestion, able to perfectly picture the look on his face as if he was saying it in person.

E: What are you doing?

K: Waiting for a certain woman to just give in. Liam left this morning.

E:I’m on call so you may get kicked out at any time...

His response was practically instant.

K: on my way

Emma thought she may injure her cheeks for smiling, it wasn’t even ten minutes later she heard a knock on the door. She opened the door and they stood for a minute just smiling at each other before Emma yanked him in by the lapels of his leather jacket and started to kiss him. She didn’t look fancy, a loose braid, some leggings and her favourite baggy top. But if he had even noticed he didn’t care, pushing her up against one of the support beams and briefly releasing her mouth so he could kiss a line up her jaw to her ear. She moaned when he found the spot behind her ear that drove her mad, making him pull back with a satisfied smirk before kissing her quickly and hard on the mouth once more.

He pulled back and somewhat breathily spoke, “If we are not careful love you are going to ruin all my plans for Wednesday.”

She ignored him kissing him again with fervour one hands toying with the thatch of chest hair exposed by the buttons on his shirt the other the hair at the nape of his neck. When she had him good and riled Emma pulled back. “Well it wouldn’t be good to be compromised if I get called in.”

“Minx, “ Killian said with a smirk.

She laughed, “So should we just curl up on the couch and watch something?”

Killian smiled, “I suppose so love.”

Emma let him pick something to watch and she grabbed some snacks. When she put them down on the coffee table he patted the seat beside him and before she knew it she was curled up against him with her head tucked under his chin. It was all painfully domestic... and kind of wonderful.

“So how was your day?” She felt him press a kiss to her head as he asked.

She sighed, “Nothing to write home about. Missing Henry even before I would have seen him anyway.”

“He is a lucky lad.”

She snorted, “Why?”

“Both of us understand why love, he is lucky to have a mum like you to miss him. And you are a brilliant mum by the way.”

She turned to look up at him, as if checking he wasn’t making fun of her. She frowned, “You can’t really know that.”

“You think I’m taking the piss love, well I assure you I am not. You forget I have seen you with the lad, heard you talk about him, heard him talk about you. You are bloody brilliant.”

She couldn’t help but kiss him, needing to both thank him and tamp down the rising emotion. She ended up completely turned round straddling him and there she stayed having what could only be described as a teenager-esque make-out session. When they finally pulled away giggling slightly at the ridiculousness of it all, Killian cupped her cheek. “I think I could do that all night.”

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you into something more? You know I don’t need candles and romance Killian. And I don’t know whether you can tell..” She leant forward brushing her nose against his ear, “But I really want you.”

She could barely see the blue in his eyes, his pupils blown so wide then the onslaught of kisses all over her face and neck had her laughing (and gasping), “Just for that I am going to make you wait, forget minx I think I meant siren.”

They continued to watch the movie they had completely lost track of, and by the end Emma happily accepted Killian’s offer to stay, she had after all fallen asleep draped across his lap anyway.

.....................

While the next morning Emma was fairly chipper, waking up in Kilian’s arms was very nice indeed. Coupled with the phone call she got from Henry which although short assured her he was having the best time ever, the same couldn’t be said for David. He looked like a man who had no know sleep in the past 24 hours.

“Rough night?” Emma observed.

He rubbed his eyes, “He sensed my weakness and he exploited it. Unfortunately he gets to sleep the day away at day-care while I have to work.”

“They are pure evil at his age, Henry used to sense when I had a big day coming up. Perfect sleeper the rest of the time.”

“Mary-Margaret laughed, said I would appreciate her more now. I don’t know how you did it by yourself. I love Leo but he almost had me at the point of crying.”

“I don’t miss that,” Emma remembered being so tired and frustrated and alone she cried on her shitty kitchen floor begging Henry to just sleep, feeling like a complete failure and without someone to reassure her it was all going to be fine. “Did you want me to stay tonight, let you get a proper sleep?”

David smiled, “Only if you are sure.”

“Completely,” Emma replied confidently. “Anyway Henry called this morning, having the time of his life”

......................................

Later that day Emma joined David and baby Leo, Pasta bake in hand. One day and somehow the house looked like a bomb had hit it. After raising an eyebrow at the scene before her David began to tidy up while Leo played on his mat and Emma reheated the food. Dinner was nice and long after David sat down on the couch after putting Leo down to bed he himself was out like a light. Emma put away the dishes, covered him with a blanket and went into the spare room getting out her book and reading until she herself actually felt like sleeping.

Leo certainly wasn’t in the mood for sleep when he started balling at one in the morning. Emma groaned and got up picking up the little man and rocking him gently in her arms. It turned out that soothing crying babies was something you never quite forgot. The wailing had woken David up too and he stumbled in looking dishevelled. Emma shook her head, “I got this, go get some sleep.”

He nodded, too tired to argue. Emma chuckled as he shuffled off to bed whispering to the calming baby in her arms, “He has had it too good for too long huh little one.”

To be fair Leo went back to sleep after that and when Emma went into his room at around six he was sitting up quite awake as if waiting for someone to come and get him. She scooped him up in her arms nuzzling his nose with hers, “You done torturing your Dad now little man.”

She took the baby into the kitchen and put him in his high chair while she made breakfast, occasionally chatting to the little boy. When David came in she was attempting to feed him some of the homemade baby food from the fridge while sipping at her coffee. David smiled at the two of them and Emma pointed at the pot, “Coffee is hot.”

“I can’t tell you how much I owe you for this, I feel like a different man.”

Emma shrugged, “He was only up the once.” She tuned to the chubby bubba in the chair and started to talk to him bopping him on the nose as she talked in typical baby voice, “Not nearly as evil as Henry, no no you aren’t.”

David laughed as he poured himself a cup of coffee, eyes widening as he noticed the bacon buttie on the bench. “You have shown me up completely.”

Emma shrugged, “I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it a little, I miss Henry being that little sometimes... not all the time obviously. But the older he gets the less he is going to need me, and he is kinda all I have.”

“Well that’s a lie if I ever heard one,” David said clearly unimpressed.

Emma shrugged, “You know what I mean, I love you guys and you are pretty much family but at the end of the day you have a family.”

David shook his head, “Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours. I promise you whether Henry goes to college on the other side of the country or moves away I will always be here for you, always.”

Emma nodded, “I wasn’t fishing for anything.”

“I know which is all the more frustrating, don’t you say anything like that to Mary-Margaret.”

Her heart clenched at the thought, she hadn’t meant to be hurtful but inevitably that is what it would be. She bit the inside of her cheek, self-pity felt awfully selfish sometimes. David didn’t hold it against her, “At any rate Henry isn’t going anywhere for a while, Leo make you clucky at all?”

She raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you start on me too.”

He held up his hands pleading innocence, “I said nothing. Just innocently enquiring.”

“If I’m honest David I hadn’t thought I would have opportunity. I wouldn’t do it on my own again that’s for sure but until... I mean I didn’t think I would... Its too early to think about anyway.”

David was smiling at her wiping brown sauce from his mouth as he chewed a mouthful of his sandwich, basically letting her dig a hole. “So what you are saying is with the right person...”

“Maybe, yeah. If I found the right person then maybe.”

Her red face and admission seemed to placate him but she didn’t miss his amused grin as he finished his sandwich then got Leo ready for day-care. Emma couldn’t even believe the conversation had taken place, how she had entertained the idea at all. She felt a little sick, how had she got this deep? She left the house as fast as she could. Tonight she had a date with Killian, she needed to stop these thoughts from plaguing her all day, needed to stop imagining Killian as more than he was at the moment. They hadn’t even slept together for fucks sake.

She decided a hot chocolate would make her feel better so she stopped at Granny’s to grab herself one as well as a coffee for David and Lance who was back in today after a weekend with his friend Arthur in a town called Camelot about an hours drive away. He would no doubt be a grump today as he often was after visiting. She told him once to cut his losses and leave, she couldn’t understand why he would put his heart through the assault that was being in love with your best friends wife with no intention of doing anything about it. He had merely shook his head, spouting some nonsense about them needing him, that he couldn’t do it to either of them.

In truth Lance looked worse than usual she gently placed the cup of hot coffee in front of him, “Rough weekend?”

He looked up at her guiltily, “Sometimes Emma I wish I was strong enough to say no.” He noticed the cup, “Oh god you are a life-saver. I don’t think I deserve your kindness, self imposed misery and all.”

She shrugged, “Just don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold.”

He chuckled softly and she went to place David’s coffee on his desk, he hadn’t made it in yet. When she looked back he had a faraway look in his eye, he took a sip of coffee then looked down at the cup like he was almost... upset. Emma frowned, she was sure that was how he took it, soy because he was a little lactose intolerant and with a shot of hazelnut.

Not long after David came in, yelling a quick thanks from his office, they got a call from a neighbouring towns sheriff, saying they may have found Charles Teach’s car. The town in question called Briarwood was over an hour away, Emma and Lance got the pleasure of going out there. They pulled up outside a little sheriffs station in a standalone building on the main drag. There were a few police cars outside and judging by the look of the town as they drove in it was a little more populated than Storybrooke or at least a lot bigger. The woman at the desk, a portly older lady who was knitting a ghastly pink confection turned her perfectly coiffed white hair and yelled for “PHILIP!” before turning back to them and regarding them from her half-moon spectacles as if she wasn’t convinced by the badges they had proffered already.

Philip materialised quite quickly shaking his head, “Mary you could call my phone, or send them through.” He was English, a soft posh accent. She couldn’t help but compare it to Killian’s and decide it was not nearly as nice.

He looked at the two of them quizzically, Lance leaned forward hand outstretched, “Hi I’m Lance Knight and this is Emma Swan, we are the deputies from Storybrooke.”

Recognition dawned on his and he shook Lance’s hand before doing the same to Emma, it was a firm handshake which made Emma like him at least a little more. “Sorry Mary should have sent you right through, should I just show you the vehicle first?”

“First?” Emma frowned.

Philip went to open his mouth then closed it wiggling his head around like he was weighing something up, “Yeah its easier if I just show you. You want a ride or just want to follow?”

Emma made the decision before Lance could open his mouth, “We will follow thanks.”

Philip led them just out of town before turning onto a dirt road trail before stopping the car. They parked behind him and got out, he walked to the side of the road and pointed at the undergrowth. Within it you could just make out the back of a car. “A local noticed it on the weekend, they checked there wasn’t anyone in it but otherwise left it.”

Emma hopped down the ditch at the side of the road before climbing up into the bush to inspect it closer, “There aren’t any plates, how did you figure out it was Teach’s?”

She could hear the smugness in his voice, “Ahh well, there is no plate or registration but under one of the seats was an old receipt for the registration and we ran it through the computer and the alert came up.”

Emma nodded to herself before climbing into the car, growth around the car made it look like it had been there for a few weeks and inside there wasn’t much in there to write home about. To all intents and purposes the car had been cleared out, not very well it seems. She yelled out the open car door, “Aside from the receipt, you guys bag up anything else?”

“There wasn’t anything to bag up really, it even looked clean.” His voice was getting closer and he appeared at the car door, “I wouldn’t have thought much of it really, just some idiot dumping a car except...” He leaned forward and pointed at the dash where she could see scratched plastic then ignored most polite rules of personal space and flicked open the hood. Excitedly he got out not talking again until he was at the front of the car, “For those.”

Emma sighed at his enthusiasm and got out to see was he was talking about, there too was just scratch marks, “someone got rid of the VIN numbers so it would be hard to identify.”

“Exactly,” Philip said looking immensely proud of himself, “I thought it was a bit more effort than people usually go to so I searched the car and found the receipt, it was partially hidden by the carpet in the car.”

Emma bit back a sarcastic remark about his superior investigation skills instead nodding, “Has the area around here been searched?”

“For what?” Philip frowned.

“The guy who owned the car, who skipped out on his court date. Asked around town or in the immediate area?”

Philip shook his head, “Figured if he dumped it, he wasn’t going to stick around.”

“Probably but best to check, mind if we do or would you rather?”

Phillip shook his head, “No problem, I can help.”

Emma smiled, he was obviously a good guy. Emma needed to learn to be a little more forgiving, if this town was as dull as Storybrooke, Gold excluded, she would almost be as enthused at even a little detective work. Philip offered to ask at the properties closest to the car and Emma and Lance headed back to town.

“What do you think?” Lance asked.

Emma pouted thinking it through, “I don’t know. I don’t think Teach was exactly flush with cash so dumping a perfectly good car was an odd choice, why not sell it and get some money for another. I mean the alert only went up last week, he could have sold it with no issue anytime before that. But that’s just what I would do, Charles Teach isn’t me.”

Lance nodded, “He must have had a ride already lined up then.

“Unless he didn’t leave.”

Emma didn’t mean to sound morbid but the murders following Gold around had her thinking a certain way. Lance didn’t seem to take it that way anyway, “I can’t imagine he is stupid enough to be hanging around here.”

They went into every shop and restaurant, no one had any recollection of seeing Teach. When they went into the bar Lance went to use the restroom, Emma questioned the bartender. “Have you by any chance seen this man?”

Emma held up Teach’s photo, the man shook his head. She went on the describe his manner, his car and why they were looking for him but to no avail. On a whim Emma pulled up an old photo of John Silver from his Facebook page, “What about this guy?”

The man frowned, Emma showed him a few more photo’s. The man nodded, “Yeah, miserable guy. Held his liquor well until he didn’t. Had to have him kicked out, almost called the police but he seemed like he had a bad enough day.”

She got his contact information in case she needed to call him, then walked outside waiting for Lance. She called David, “Hey we have his car it was cleaned out, someone tried to remove all the identification but did a sloppy job. The deputy here found a receipt and traced it back to our man”

Lance came out and she mouthed ‘David’ to him, he motioned that he would meet her at the sheriffs station, as he walked away she started talking again. “No-one in town recognised him, the Briarwood deputy is checking the properties around where the car was dumped but it looks like it was a while ago.”

“I can feel a but coming on,” David replied.

“But I asked the bartender if he had seen Silver on a bit of a whim, and he had.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, drunk and miserable was his description.”

“Hmm, well we will have to follow that up then. It doesn’t seem likely that Silver hasn’t seen him but managed to be in the exact town that his car got dumped.” She heard shuffling papers in the background, “Talk to Silver tomorrow, might be worth bringing him in actually.”

“Will do boss, we are probably going to head back now assuming that Philip the sheriff here doesn’t have any major news.” Emma doubted it, she had a feeling in her gut that didn’t bode well.

She meandered back to the sheriffs station, this time the lady at the desk let her through and she walked in to the main office. Lance was talking to Philip, she joined them but neither looked happy. “I talked to a few of the properties, no-one saw anything. They remember the car turning up a few weeks ago but hadn’t got round to doing anything about it.”

Emma nodded, “It was good work, finding us.” She looked at Lance and for the weirdest reason decided not to tell him about Silver, he would find out tomorrow anyway. “We should be going anyway, nice to meet you Sheriff.”

She shook his hand again, “I’ll let you know if anything else turns up.”

Lance followed her out, “So another dead end?”

“Another piece of the puzzle I guess, hey I don’t know why but I have this feeling something bad might have happened to Teach.”

He looked surprised for a second, then his face showed a hint of anger, it was gone before she could really register what it was and whether it was even directed at her. “You think someone might have hurt him?”

“I don’t know but it just doesn’t feel right. I’ll look into any vehicle purchases in the area but...”

The ride back was okay, Lance recounted his weekend in excruciating detail. She merely shook her head at him while feeling more and more guilty about not telling him everything. It was pretty much home time when they got back and nervousness started to creep up on Emma. It was date night finally and it was of course stupid to be nervous. Only two nights ago they fell asleep in each others arms, but this was different, deliberate. And the anticipation was killing her, or more accurately if had turned her insides into a rolling storm, her mind into a tornado of worst case scenarios. David winked at her as he wished her a good night, she merely scowled in return. Showtime.

#cs ff #cs ff au #cs fanfics #a good catch #enjoy

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freerebelmentality · 7 years

Text

Take me to church pt3

Word Count: 2,448

>>> Part one Part two <<< Is where you can catch up

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A month has gone by, you gave your notice at the news paper in New York and decided to stay home for good. You decided to try the freelance journalism and that has been working really great for you. Taking pictures on the other hand has been making you pretty busy and making money here and there for freelance photography.

After editing a few photos is when you noticed you were out of photo paper and needed to head out to buy some. While getting ready and looking for the keys only to realize mom has it. You took out your phone and called the auto shop. With one ring someone picks up the phone with a greeting.

“Lowell: Good afternoon Teller Morrow auto shop?

You: Hey its y/n, is my mom around?

Lowell: Yeah, one sec”

He puts you on hold while you wait for her to pick up the phone and finally soon after she does.

“Gemma: Hi baby, what ya need?

You: I need a ride to get some photo papers

Gemma: I cant take you, Im sorry. I have tons of paper work to do and Jax is off doing some club related business with your dad.

You: Chibs?

Gemma: He went to do a pick up for the shop. Hang on”

“Op, are you busy?” Gemma asks while covering the phone mouth piece with her hand

“No, Im just taking a break. Why?” He asks from the door

“Can you give y/n a ride to the store? She needs to pick up a few things” She asks in hopes he will agree to it.

“Sure. I’ve been wanting to hang out with her. Tell her Im on my way” He replies and walking out of the garage to his bike and drove off.

“Thank you and I will let her know” She says and places the ear piece of the phone back to her.

“Gemma: I found you a ride. Opie is on his way

You: Thanks mom. I’ll see you later

Gemma: No problem baby. See you after work”

You get off the phone with your mom to head outside and wait for Opie. You locked the door and sat on the front steps of the house, you hear a familiar roar of a motor bike and got up to meet Opie in the drive way. He pulls up into the drive way, he smiles to you while handing you a helmet and get on the bike while he backs out of the drive way and drives to the store.

“What exactly are you getting anyway?” Opie asks once we stop in front of the store

“I need photo paper, ink and a couple more memory cards for my camera” You reply while you lead the both of you into the store

“How is it working freelance?” He asks as he follows you through the aisles

“Its going good, even though it can be slow but still counts as work and make some what good money” You reply while placing the paper into your basket

“You ever think about opening up your own gallery? I know the club has warehouses and big enough for an art gallery” He suggests while looking at the items on the shelves

“Thats not a bad idea. I mean I have always wanted my own gallery for as long as I could remember” You reply while finishing getting the items you really needed and go to the till to pay for your things.

“If you want, I can talk to your dad about lending you the space and the rest of the guys. Im sure they wont mind” He says while helping you with your bag.

“I think I can handle my dad. You can talk to the other guys though and they would probably take it to chapel and vote or whatever. Since its the clubs warehouse” You say while walking out of the store.

You heard someone calling your name and the voice sounded familiar. Your heart stopped once that voice came over you, numbness all over your body and you look to Opie who just rolls his eyes once he sees who it is.

“I’ll wait by the bike” Opie says and leans against his bike

You nod and turn to the person who is standing not far from you. You see his baby blue eyes, he is in full uniform and a slight smile breaks on his face.

“When did you get home? How long have you been in Charming?” He asks only keeping his eyes on you.

“I have been home for a while” You answer him simply

“Welcome back home is in order then” He says never breaking his gaze away

“Uniform suits you. After how many years of talking about working for Charming PD” You asking breaking the awkward silence, well more awkward for you.

“Yeah, Deputy Chief and love what I do” He says with a wide smile

“Well I better go. I dont want to keep Opie any longer then I have. Uh it was nice seeing you” You say rather quickly and walk towards Opie and his bike.

“Can I see you again? Coffee?” He asks ignoring Opies glare

“I dont think that would be a good idea” You answer as Opie starts his bike and drives away back to your parents place.

Once he pulls into the drive way, stops his bike and you lead the way to the front door. Both of you get into the kitchen as he sets your things on the table.

“Wow, its been so long since I have been on a bike” You say to distract yourself from doing anything stupid. Such as calling David to come over and getting wrapped in each others limbs along with the sheets.

“You alright? I know it wasnt easy leaving but firsts always count for something” He asks leaning against the counter.

“Its never easy seeing them is it?” You ask in a hushed tone as your hand combs back your hair

Opie shakes his head while he gives you a sad smile. You were glad he was with you when David came walking up. If it were your brother then it would have been a different story.

“Do you still have feelings for the guy?” He asks and sits himself at the table with you.

“Honestly, yes I do. On the other hand, I love the club more and I understand why my parents tried keeping us apart. My feelings arent enough to get back with him though” You answer him honestly while it hurt to admit the truth

“I love you as my own sister. On one hand I am glad you aren’t considering of getting back with him but on the other you deserve a good guy and to be happy. I saw what he brought to you and remember it well. Whatever you decide, just remember think about what your going to do. Its not just your dad but its also your brother. Me included” Opie says while he gets up and kisses the top of your head.

“I got to get going, I’ll check in with you later and dont forget our talk” He says as he takes one last look to you and walks out the door.

One damn little chat and you were so damn conflicted on what to do. For sure you couldnt go back to the old ways because he is officially a law man and that wasnt going to be good for the club. Then Chibs came to mind, his gorgeous brown eyes, his sexy deep voice that goes perfectly well with that Scottish accent and then the phone rings.

“Stupid girl” You muttered about yourself as you got up the answer the home phone

“You: Hello

Someone: Y/n?

You: David?

Someone: Yeah, its me

You: Why are you calling me?

David: After all these years, your parents still have the same number?

You: What do you want David?

David: I want to see you again. Not just a few seconds but over coffee

You: I dont know if that should be a good idea

David: Why not? Dont tell me your parents are keeping you from seeing me

You: No, its not that. I just have work to do and Im really busy

David: You cant take the time away from work just to go for coffee?

You: No, I have pictures to edit and I have to set a few things up. I have unfinished articles to complete for certain magazines

David: Well when you arent so busy, maybe we can go for coffee or even dinner

You: Maybe. In the mean time I got to get going, my work isnt going to finish itself

David: Alright, talk to you soon”

When you hung up the phone is when you heard someone pull into the drive way along with a bike. You looked at the time and didnt even realize the work day for your parents was done. Well for the auto shop anyways

“Hey mom, daddy” You greet your parents as you sit at the table

“Hey baby girl” Clay says as he enters the kitchen and places the bag of groceries on the counter.

“Hi baby” Gemma says as she passes you and gives you a kiss to your forehead

“Something was brought to my and the clubs attention at church today” Dad says while mom stops what she is doing

“Well?” You ask in hopes it would be ok

“Well what? What was talked about in church?” Mom

“Our very own daughter would like to open up her own art gallery and a studio where she can take pictures and display them” Dad says while looking to his wife

Mom looks incredibly excited and happy that you would want to open up your own business.

“Really, you want something like this?” Mom asks in complete excitement

“Yeah, its something I’ve always wanted and I love photography mom” You tell her with a wide smile as she comes closer to hug you.

The both of you look to Clay in hopes he has good news for you. If it would be a yes then you would start getting to work on getting everything ready.

“When do you want to go warehouse shopping?” He asks with a wide smile

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” You yell in pure happiness once he gives you the good news that you will be having your own business and if it goes well then you can have your own company

“Opie brought it up. He talked about how he suggested it, you always wanted one and Charming would benefit from the gallery” Dad says while you thank Opie over and over again.

“Thank you so much daddy” You get up to hug your father

He hugged you right back and hugged very tightly.

“Do you have everything you need for the gallery?” Mom asks with a wide smile on her face

“Yeah but I would need to get projectors for the digital displays along with the white sheets” You answer her still tucked underneath your dads arm

For the past few weeks you have been really busy putting everything together at the warehouse. A few guys from the club have helped with the heavy lifting and you were more grateful for their help. That was one of the ways you were able to spend more time with Chibs. You would stay late at night to place everything together and he would also stay behind and help you.

You gave him a camera to take pictures with. As he took them, they uploaded to the projector and the pictures he took displayed on the sheets you have placed around the warehouse. He takes a few pictures of you while you werent looking and they displayed as well.

“This one is my favourite” He says while selecting the picture and once he was done. The picture displayed on all four sheets.

It was a picture of you setting up your computer to the settings for the projectors that were hooked up to four different cameras.

“Ye look focused, determined and tired” He says while you look to the display as well

“Not bad Chibby. Maybe you can be my prodigy” You say with a proud smile on your face

“Nah, I leave the picture taking to ye” He says looking away from you and looks at the display.

You hit the print icon on the computer and an 8 x 10 printed out. You walked to the printer and got the photo. You walked towards Chibs and gave him the picture.

“Here, you can have this. Also keep the camera and take whatever pictures. Ill use them for the displays throughout the warehouse and dont worry I will give you full credit” You tell him as he takes the photo from your hands

“Nah, Im going to break yer camera” He says giving you the camera

“Im not taking no for an answer Chibs. I want to see what you see everyday. I want you to capture everyday living from your perspective” You tell him while placing the camera back in his hands and holding them while you tell him what you want from him.

“Ye are just like yer ma ye know that” He says while looking to you.

“I know” You say while smiling to him and walking away from him

“Its pretty late and think we should get going” You say while putting on your jacket and getting your things together.

“Ye need a ride?” He asks as he watches you gather your things

“Yes please” You answer him and the both of you walk out

You get on his bike as he hands you a helmet. Once the both of you drive away from your gallery, you enjoy the ride home and once the house gets near. You didnt want the ride to end, as he pulls into your parents drive way and get off his bike. You turn to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, again” You tell him and walk to the front door to unlock it and walk into the house.

Chibs had to contain himself from giving you a full kiss, he needed to contain himself all together because you are his presidents daughter, his vice presidents sister and Gemma’s baby. He didnt know how he would explain himself if he ever started something with you or he didnt know how to explain his feelings for you to anyone.

You leaned against the door once you got inside, the lights came one and it was your dad.

#chibs #opie #david hale #gemma #chibs telford #filip telford #harry winston #filip chibs telford #harry opie winston #clay morrow #gemma teller morrow #chibs x reader #past!david hale x reader

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