Once Upon a Time in Storybrooke - OUAT DR

Chapter 9 - Hope & A Stranger

I was daydreaming at work Monday afternoon, scanning newspapers page by boring page when a tap on the back glass door drew my attention to Emma – standing there in her red leather jacket, urging me to come outside.

I walked outside, glad for the distraction but wondering what in the world she was doing here on her first Monday as Sheriff. She informed me that there were these twins who attended Henry's school and had been caught by Mr. Clark, the guy who owns the pharmacy in town, stealing. She had taken them to the house they claimed to live in only to figure out that their mom had died a while back and the house was abandoned. They had no idea who their dad was and Emma either had to find their dad or take them to Boston to enter into the system where the twins - a boy and a girl - would almost certainly be separated.

She asked if I had ever come across a Zimmer or Zimmerman in my archiving of the newspaper articles, but I told her there wasn't any that I could recall, but I'd do some digging and see what I could find and meet her back at Mary Margaret's once I was done looking.

I dug through the box dated for the year Emma had given me, but turned up nothing. I asked a few people around the office if they'd heard of a Zimmer and nobody had a clue. I decided to go through the box that should have the papers from when the twin's mother died but found absolutely no mention of her death - not even an obituary.

I headed over to Mary Margaret's place and let Emma know I hadn't found anything helpful, not even a reference to their deceased mom, and agreed to hang out there with Mary Margaret and the kids while she went to City Hall to pull their birth certificates and try and find their father. I had partially decided to stay so I could question Mary Margaret about the weirdness, too, but they didn't need to know that.

I found it incredibly odd that the death of a single mother hadn't been reported in the newspaper, given the size of the town and the general desperation around the office to find a good story. When I voiced these thoughts, out of earshot from the twins, to Mary Margaret, she couldn't seem to recall anything, just knowing she had seen them around the school, as had the other teachers, but she wasn't even sure who their teacher was. She didn't seem to be bothered by the fact there had been absolutely no mention of any of this in the paper or the haziness around her knowledge of the twins and changed the subject.

We decided to make cookies and icing – Ava and Nicholas loved it, having never made cookies before – and were eating their completed cookies when Emma rushed in like she was on a mission. She came down with a box and asked the kids if they had anything from their father, showing them the baby blanket she had from her parents, an obviously hand-knitted white blanket with purple stitching and embroidery on the corner with her name on it, and explained its significance. Ava produced a vintage-looking compass from her pocket, explaining their mother had said it belonged to their father when she was still alive and she'd held onto it. Emma took it and left without further explanation.

Once Emma was gone, I looked at the baby blanket she'd briefly shown, pulling it out of the box, and something about it was so familiar - as if I'd seen it before - but just as soon as I had the thought it flitted away.

Henry came by and we all decided to make more cookies, this time with chocolate icing. Mary Margaret was taking the time to use it as a little science lesson and had just finished up when Emma called Mary Margaret and asked for us to come outside. We left the kids to ice the now-cooling cookies and went downstairs to meet with Emma.

She explained that she had located the twin's father thanks to the compass Ava had given her. He was the man who owned the mechanic garage in town, but he was refusing to take them, he just wasn't ready. She couldn't tell them, didn't want to tell them that she'd failed, didn't want to be the one to separate them. I could see the conflict and war going on inside her - feel it as if I myself was experiencing it too.

Emma was starting to propose we could hide the twins away somewhere when Regina walked up – thankfully not hearing our discussion - explaining that she was checking up on Emma to make sure she was "doing her job" and to remind her that the kids were expected in Boston by tonight so she'd better leave soon if they were to get there on time.

Emma had also explained, before Regina had gotten there, that Henry's bio dad had not been some hero, he was just someone not worth mentioning. Emma was usually really closed off, but sometimes she'd drop these little snippets of background information – lore as I liked to refer to them – and I ate it up every chance I got.

Emma had no other choice, and I couldn't handle being there when Emma told the twins. I had suffered my own neglect under the foster system and it just hit a little too close to home.

I was leaving as she loaded the twins up and drove away, but instead of heading for home, I headed towards the Garage – the business Emma had mentioned the twin's bio dad ran. I caught him right as he was closing up shop – ducking into the garage before he could close it. I confronted him on the situation at hand – acknowledging that it may have been unexpected and scary to find out this way - but it was never too late to make things right. All he needed to do was try.

It seemed as if I may have swayed him, but he explained that it was too late, they were already on their way to Boston. It wasn't even a full minute after I'd said "Maybe not," before he received a call on the emergency phone. It was Emma - the Sheriff's car stalled on the border of town.

I couldn't help but hope that this was her last ditch attempt at getting him to agree to take the twins and that our conversation had maybe swayed him to do the right thing. I went back to Mary's to wait for Emma to get home and find out what happened. I was helping Mary Margaret fold laundry on her bed when Emma came in and told us what happened.

Sure enough, he'd changed his mind after all.

Emma wondered what it would be like finding your birth parents, as I found myself thinking the same, and Mary Margaret once again managed to find a way to say all the right things – as if she was speaking to the hollow part of me that longed for comfort, validation, answers.

That's when Emma informed us of Henry's theory about who her parents are and why she couldn't find them – because her parents had put her through a magical wardrobe and sent her to this world to save them. When Mary asked who he thought Emma's parents were, Emma explained that Henry believed one of them to be Snow White – who Henry believed to be Mary Margaret – and how wild it was that Snow White would have a kid and that the storybook Mary Margaret had given Henry wasn't the "traditional" tales. Mary Margaret joked then that Emma kind of has her chin, and I joked that I always thought Emma and I had similar smiles, and we all laughed. I asked them then if they knew who Henry thought I was in his story, but neither of them knew.

Interesting, everyone else in Operation Cobra had a fairytale alias except Emma, who was the daughter of Snow White and therefore kind of had a fairytale alias, and me – the only stranger to ever come to Storybrooke as far as anyone could remember other than Emma.

I realized the time then and decided to head home, Emma claiming to need some air and following not too far behind me. I decided to hit Granny's and grab something to eat, chatting with Ruby for a bit as she worked. Afterward, I headed home, getting settled in for the night when I heard a familiar noise, one I hadn't heard since coming to Storybrooke. I went to my room, crawled onto the bed, opened the window behind it, and saw a man driving by on a motorcycle heading for Granny's Bed & Breakfast.

I hadn't seen a single motorcycle the entire time I'd been in this town, so it definitely wasn't a local. There was only one other explanation - another stranger had come to Storybrooke. I watched as he parked and walked up the path to Granny's B&B carrying a small bag and a weird box. 

I wondered who he was and what had brought him here as I closed and relatched the window once he'd gone from sight, tidying up around the apartment and writing down all the fairytale conspiracies and aliases in my little notebook, wondering how exactly I would fit into all of this and who I could possibly be. I put the notebook and pen on my bedside table before turning out the lights and going to sleep for the night, thoughts of evil witches, curses, and babies being thrust through wardrobes playing in my head.