A Treasure Not Worth Finding - Bigby Wolf x Goldilocks!Reader
A/N: Okay, so here's the next part! Sorry it took so long, I had it sitting in my WIP folder for quite some time, just needing to be edited and instead of editing it, I started working on my manuscript. But, it's here now! Slightly based off Faith from TWAU video game. The music playing in the apartment can be anything you want, as it's technically YOUR apartment haha
Content Warnings: Mild angst, description of death and dead bodies, perceived reader death.
That about does it, hope you enjoy! Feel free to comment if you'd like
Lil_Ms_Darkness
“See you again, soon.”
That was the last thing she’d said to him. Her voice was soft, light and her eyes matched. It unnerved him, but it was also a welcome sort of discomfort, a kind that he’d come to appreciate. After he caught the asshole trying to poison Snow White - weirdly enough, it was Leland Mouse, of the Three Blind Mice, glamoured into a man [Y/N] wouldn’t recognize, nor would she have suspected to be one of the mice. She had helped him find the perpetrator responsible for trying to take Snow White’s life, purely for greed and satisfaction of being the one to kill the Deputy Mayor for not prioritizing his cases, and for not bowing to his whim when he wanted. And, as she had asked, Bigby had returned to visit her. But, it didn’t become a consistent thing. He mainly visited for information, and was met with some kind of story, a conversation, a muffin or a slice of banana nut bread, she’d offered him a brownie once but he’d denied it.
He hadn’t expected to see her again so soon, especially not like this. He had gotten a call from Jack about a body dumped into a back alley dumpster. He was nervous, having seen only a leg hanging out.
Bigby arrived on the scene quickly and found the dumpster, a leg hanging over the lip with the lid flattening it. He grabbed the edge and lifted the lid open, looking down to examine the victim. He felt his mouth fall open in surprise, shock, and pure white hot rage. It was her.
“See you again, soon.”
He carefully fished her out of the dumpster and laid her down on the rough asphalt of the street, hidden in the darkness away from the street lights. Her hair was soft in his hand as he held her head to lower her.
Now, he looks down at her face, her once golden hair is messy and pale as it cushions her head like a pillow. Her eyes are half lidded and lusterless in death, her skin lacking the warmth- her hands clenched tightly in fists. He notes the deep purple and black bruising on her throat, so thick that it couldn’t have been a cord. He crouches next to her, noting the various wounds around her body- she had fought back.
He closes his eyes for a moment before he hears footsteps shuffling towards them and he looks up, spotting Jack at the mouth of the alley. The blonde man approaches him, a solemn and uncomfortable look on his face.
“Any luck?” He asks
Bigby sighs and looks at the body again,
“Did you see anyone around when you found the body?” The words felt like bile in his throat as he speaks them
“No, I didn’t.”
Bigby isn’t surprised to hear that, Jack was about as observant as a thumbtack. He examines her hands, noting the clean fingernails, but there is bruising underneath- someone made sure to clean up any DNA traces.
Damn
He takes a closer look at her throat, finding the rope burns in between the bruises and the broken veins underneath. He can feel his claws threaten to elongate and he actively keeps them retracted, turning his attention to her face, his eyes linger on her swollen, bluing lips. He can’t help but feel guilty, wondering if she’d been murdered because she was helping him. Whether it was to keep her quiet, or for some other reason, he’ll be sure to get to the bottom of it. He will find the bastard that did this.
Bigby looks back to the body and notices her clothes now. She’s dressed in her Trip Trap uniform, an emerald green dress that was similar to Holly’s, with black wedge heels secured with a strap around the ankle. She had told him how she loved the dress, because it was high quality material without being too expensive and felt nice on her skin, but he can’t recall what material. Now that he can touch it, it’s smooth under his rough hands, thick but not scratchy at all- and it’s dirty from the garbage she was thrown into.
“What were you doing over here, Jack?” Bigby asks, cautiously.
“I was coming to visit a friend of mine.” Jack says, shifting from foot to foot.
“A friend?”
“He said he was going to give me $1,000.”
“What a generous friend, what are you up to?”
“Nothing, honest!” Jack holds up his hands in surrender.
Bigby looks from him, down to the body, then Jack again. He doesn’t have time to deal with the get rich quick fails of the century.
“I need to go see Holly, she should be working tonight, and Jack? Stay out of trouble.”
Bigby walks down the concrete steps to the heavy door of the Trip Trap, pushing it open and stepping through. Holly stands behind the bar, dressed in her brown dress. She lifts her gaze to look towards the door, preparing to greet a customer, but her face sets into a flat glare when she sees Bigby. Gren glances over his shoulder towards the Sheriff and shakes his head, looking back to his small glass of rum on the countertop.
The sheriff approaches the bar and looks at Holly,
“I’m not here to start problems, I just need to ask you some questions.” He says, simply and sits down at the bar a few seats away from Gren.
“You’re always here to start a problem, even when you don’t try to.” She digs her nails into the bottom lip of the bar.
Bigby shakes his head, “When was the last time you saw [Y/N]?”
“She was here for her shift the night before last. Why? What do you want with her?” Holly’s eyes narrow.
“She’s dead…” Bigby wills his face to be emotionless, as he watches Gren drop the glass to the counter, tipping over and spilling onto the bartop as Holly stares at him with wide eyes. Bigby couldn’t hope to understand what she was feeling- first, her sister was murdered, and now her friend was dead, the friend who was working with her so that she could grieve.
“How?” Gren growls, fists clenched tightly on top of the bar
“She was strangled.” Bigby says, impassively, but inside he is anything but. Inside, he is raging and tearing apart all of New York to track down the next murderer, because who knows who may be next. And if [Y/N] was a target, with how likable she is- was- who knows who else may be on a list.
“DAMNIT!” Gren stands and turns on Bigby, who only regards him with a stoic guise, “How many have to die before you do your damn job?!”
“I am doing my job.” It’s all Bigby can do not to slam his face into the bar- his patience is fading, and quickly. “I’m trying to find the person that did this, and I’m starting by finding out the timeline of when she died, and where she was taken from. If she hasn't been here since two nights ago, then there’s nothing else that I need.” He stands and Gren steps in his way. Bigby squares his shoulders.
“Knock it off,” Holly snaps, and Bigby looks her way. She sounds sad, “just go, Sheriff. I need…need to figure out what to do.” She sighs and walks out from the bar, vanishing into the back room. Bigby notes a missing attendee-
“Where’s Woody?” He asks, still looking towards the room Holly escaped to for a moment longer before looking back to Gren’s fury laden face.
“How the hell should I know?” He growls, “I ain’t his dad.”
“For someone claiming to want me to do my job, you’re making it awfully difficult.”
Gren’s eyebrows twitch and his jaw sets, Bigby prepares to dodge a punch, but it doesn’t come, to the Sheriff’s surprise. “He hasn’t been here in a couple days. He left with [Y/N] after her last shift.”
Bigby’s not surprised that Woody left with her, but the fact that he left with her the same day she was last seen….
“And he hasn’t been back since?”
“No.” Gren bites out through gritted teeth, “Now if that’s all you need, get the fuck out.”
Bigby walks out without much of a fuss, and pulls out his pack of cigarettes. He lifts one and lights it, walking down the street towards [Y/N]’s apartment.
He walks down the hall and stops in front of [Y/N]'s door, but something isn't right. He presses his ear to the door- music?
That can't be right..[Y/N]'s time of death was hours ago, why was music still playing?
He hears shuffling, and his teeth grit together. He grabs the doorknob and very slowly turns it- it's unlocked.
He throws the door open and rushes inside, seeing the silhouette and diving on him. He shoves him face down into the carpet, wrists behind his back.
"Hey hey hey!! GET THE FUCK OFF ME, WOLF!"
The Woodsman
"Not until you tell me what you're doing here." Bigby digs his knee into the big man's spine as he squirms.
"I was helping [Y/N]!"
"Don't lie to me, Woody!"
"Fuck you, I ain't lyin'!"
"What's going on- Sheriff! Get off of him!" Small hands grab Bigby's shoulder and he turns, ready to push them back; and he stops.
He climbs off the big man and stares-
"[Y/N]?"
"You listen here, Sheriff," she warns, her honeyed eyebrows furrowed in concern and anger as Woody stands up behind her, "out there you might be Sheriff Bigby Wolf and think you have to be mean to get your way, but not in my home! If you lay a hand on my guests again, you can forget about my offer to help you!"
She's angry, so very angry, he can see it in her eyes, in the way the wrinkles between her brows crease her skin. The fire in her eyes. But she's here, standing, yelling, breathing.
"We found your body," Bigby says, carefully and the crease between her eyes lifts. "We all thought you were dead. And I came by to see if you'd been murdered here. When I saw Woody-"
"You thought Woody killed me?" She frowns, incredulously, "He'd never."
Woody puts a large hand on her shoulder. She looks over at him, then at Bigby again.
"I'm not dead..." [Y/N] muses.
"Clearly." Bigby huffs and can feel pressure forming behind his eyes. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes when her small hand covers his holding the pack. He looks at her.
"I'd rather you didn't smoke in here. What with my work and all..." She says, quietly.
Woody snorts and Bigby considers lighting one anyway-
"Bigby does whatever he wants." He grumbles.
Woody was right. Bigby did do whatever he wanted. But one look into her kind eyes and he resigns with a sigh, tucking the pack back into his pocket. He feels naked, and uncomfortable. He ignores it.
Woody casts him a quirked browed look and Bigby ignores that, too.
"[Y/N], where were you last night?"
"Home? Asleep?" She shakes her head. "I finished dropping off orders early, stopped by the store to pick up some more fabric and flour, then came home and went to bed."
"And you, Woody?" He asks, moving his gaze to the bearded man.
"I was at the Trip Trap."
"Really? Because Gren says he hasn't seen you in a couple days.."
"Bigby," [Y/N] warns and he casts her a cold look, warning her in turn not to interfere with his investigation. He watches her brows slacken a bit as her expression becomes one of concern. He looks back to Woody. "Let's try that again, where were you?"
Woody sighs,
"I was with a woman..." He grumbles.
"Who was it?"
"Can't a man keep his personal affairs personal?"
"Not when he's a suspect in a murder." Bigby says and folds his arms.
"I told you already he didn't do it." [Y/N] pipes up again and he ignores her completely. She was kind to him, but she is trying his patience.
He looks at her, "[Y/N], a woman is dead. She could have been you-"
"But she wasn't.." she interrupts, her frown deepens, her look of concern deepening the wrinkles in between her brows and on her forehead.
"-but it could have been. Doesn't matter that it wasn't, a woman is dead. Dead and gone. And I need to find the one responsible. Now you offered your assistance, but so far you've only made my investigation harder. Either keep it down, or I'll take him in to question him at the Business Office."
Her eyes widen and she looks at Woody, then Bigby again. The hurt in her eyes was clear as day. She steels her expression and nods, once. She looks at Woody before she walks over and sits on the love seat, legs folded and looking out the window.
Bigby feels a little guilty, but only a little. He shoves it aside and focuses on the task at hand.
Woody looks at [Y/N], then Bigby again, a look of anger in his eyes.
"You're a piece of shit, Wolf."
"I hear that a lot, now who were you with?"
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