Chapter One

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Had an urge to return to fanfiction after getting sick, but it's been so long since I've watched Once Upon a Time, I expect to get a fair bit wrong (still love Robert Carlyle). Thank you for reading—sorry in advance for any mistakes (and very short sections, like this one). (Meant to be fun, hopefully, not necessarily "good") Let me know if you have any suggestions! 


Enchanted Forest/Past:


Fingers tightened around your throat, pressed the nape of your neck into the chasm's edge—Andromeda glittered in deep blue, chained and full of ghosts. "Make the deal for me. Go."

You took in a dizzied, shocked breath, scuttled away from the edge, laughed with a dirt-covered palm to the throbbed bruises. "I will—I will."

"Twenty-four hours." They stood, grinned. 


Storybrooke:


Coffee milled into the carafe, easy ripples—Mr. Gold, hands on his cane, waited by the counter and watched you, eyes to your wrists, keeling your stomach like a repressed memory. Emma, still fairly new to the town, and Mary Margaret sat at a booth, talked close over drinks, aware of the sudden tension.

You lifted the misted glass, poured some into a white victor mug, set it in front of him, surrounded with heat, earthy roasted smell.

He looked down, fingers idled around the handle.

The women walked to the door—Mary Margaret hesitated, smiled at you. "Thanks, Y/n. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will. Have a great day, Mary Margaret. Emma."

Mr. Gold held the rim to his lips. "Fix one for yourself, dearie, on me."

You did—thick ceramic, dark well of coffee—more aware than you'd felt in a while. "Thank you, Mr. Gold." Spread through your chest. "What's the occasion?"

"Ah—" He tapped his cane, grinned from the corner of his mouth. "I remembered something the other day, is all."

Rain slinked against the windows, loose, withering. "I know better than to ask." You smiled, raised your mug with him.

"All in due time." Bare, electric touch to your wrist, arrested your attention. "Come by the shop tomorrow—I noticed a trinket you might be interested in. Vintage perfumes, right?" He brought his hand back, smoothed his tie.

"I'd love that; thank you." You paused, split on the sculpture of his knuckles, pull in his voice. "When did—"

"I overheard you and Ruby talking. Not a worry, dearie." 


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