The Son Of Alice || A Once Upon A Time Story

The Blood of Adam

The end of winter break drew near. Despite defeating Matthew, and saving Storybrooke from the curse of eternal winter, the town was still blanketed in a layer of white powder. It was charming, cozy.
I was still in therapy. Unloading more baggage than I'd ever carried. I didn't tell Dr. Hopper than I was forced to kill Matthew. I sat in the tweed chair across from him, my body riddled with tension. He wrote things down in his notebook. I noticed a small statue of an owl that wasn't there before. Huh, didn't know he liked birds.
"I'm going to prescribe you with this medication, Alexander." He told me how often to take it. I read the note he passed me. His barely legible handwriting was foreign to me, and yet I found it intriguing.
"In a couple of weeks, update me on how you feel. If there is no change, we'll try a different medication or a higher dosage." He said. I nodded quietly. A few moments passed, and Dr. Hopper appeared as if he was looking through me instead of at me. "They'll be here soon." He uttered.
"I beg your pardon." I said. "Who will?" He kept staring through me, as if I wasn't there.
"Brimming with the blood of Adam, Lilim will at last arrive and commence descensum."

I stood. Something was wrong.
"What do you mean...?" I asked. Nothing. "What are you talking about?"
He snapped out of it. "Sorry? Where were we... Ah! Yes, come back in a couple of weeks. Oh dear, looks like we're out of time, I'm late!" He sort of rushed me out the door.
When it closed I turned back, "Well, thank you for..." I began but I couldn't see him through the window anymore.
I was startled by the hooting of an owl, staring at me from a street lamp. It was only 11am, strange to see an owl in broad daylight.
Next I had a shift at the library to complete before I'd get to see my girlfriend after.
I sat at the front desk of the library, reading furiously through medical books in a messy pile. Dr. Hopper had prescribed me an antidepressant, but I found all the medications and what they do quite fascinating. I drowned in the books.
Belle was off in one of the aisles sorting books that had been returned. I looked up, hearing her let out a small gasp when she dropped one, but someone was there to help her.
A girl about my age passed her the book. She was average height with bone straight light brown hair and big round eyes. She had pale skin and wore a desert brown turtle neck and a long black overcoat.
She came to the front desk to sign out a couple of books. "Hi." She said. I didn't recognize her. Her accent appeared to be a bit Russian, maybe Ukrainian.
"Hello there." I responded. "Umm, just these?" I asked, scanning the books. They appeared to be about natural magic and witchcraft. A bunch of really old hocus pocus from the 17th century.
"Yep." She answered quite plainly. Her eyes wandered to pens and trinkets over the desk.
"Are you new to town? I'm Alexander Kingsleigh." I warmly introduced myself, and held out my hand to shake.
"Sort of." She said. "My mom runs a little shop on Main Street. I'm Hazel. Hazel Hlovatsky." Shaking my hand, I noticed she wore a bunch of rings on her fingers, and her nails were painted black. Nothing wrong with a little jewelry, okay maybe a lot of it. But hey, I wore twine and leather bracelets myself.
A fire truck passed outside. We glanced but paid no mind.
"Maybe I'll see you around school?" I asked.
"Not likely. I'm homeschooled." She said. Awkward silence.
"What are you reading?" She asked.
"Oh, um just a bunch of stuff on medicine. Spiked my curiosity." I said, attempting to clean the nest of books I'd surrounded myself with.
"Studying to be a doctor?" She inquired.
"Something like that." I gave I light smile, not revealing the truth. She put her books in her tote bag.
"Well, I'll see you around Doctor Kingsleigh." She said. "Come by mother's shop sometime, Madam Gababaya's. Maybe I can get you a free palm reading." She spoke as she exited, and the door swung shut. That name sounded familiar.
When my shift was over I cleaned up my things and met Kenzie. We went sledding and headed to Granny's for dinner. I still haven't told her I've been going to therapy. I didn't want to worry her. She'd been through enough because of me.
We were sitting at a table at Granny's. She held her hot cocoa with cinnamon, just the way she liked it, with two hands, to keep them warm. I drank tea. English Breakfast for the Brit. The sun was setting and it was considered a bit early for dinner time.
She looked content, but part of me wondered if it was just a front. We knew each other better than anyone, that included attempting to spare each other's feelings because we loved one another.
We talked for a while but I couldn't keep avoiding it.
"So um, it's been a few weeks since... since the— how have you been holding up?" I asked awkwardly. I didn't know how to approach these sort of things. I was the type of person to push my feelings down and bottle up my trauma. Something I've been working on. She put her drink down.
Her mood shifted.
"It's um... it's getting a little better every day." She said.
"You've been through a lot, Kenz. I'm always here if—"
"So have you." She cut me off. But it was sincere.
"You can talk to me." I told her.
"I'm fine, Alexander, really." She did this thing, where she put on this gleaming smile but her eyes kept thinking. She lied. If she wasn't ready to open up, I understood, and I wasn't going to pry.
"You can talk to me too." She said.
"I know..." I broke eye contact, looking at the floor, glancing a bit at Granny making food and drinks at the front counter.
"So, how is your hot cocoa?" I asked. She exhaled a sigh of relief. "So so good." Her eyes smiled too this time.
We both sat up when Jasper came over and put plates in front of us. Some delicious looking grilled sandwiches topped with pickles and a toothpick on top. They were cut diagonally. The best way.
I turned to the kid.
"She better be paying you good!" I chuckled.
"If you find a hair in your food, it's definitely not me." He joked, heading back towards the kitchen.
"Do you want my pickle?" Mackenzie asked.
I looked at her for a second, trying to imply what she just said. We both burst out giggling like little kids.
"Get your head out of the gutter!" She said, grinning. She passed me the pickle garnish of her sandwich.
"Thank you for thine pickle, princess." I upped the ante on my accent, like we were in a Shakespearean play, bowing my head a little bit.
When dinner was over, we tipped well and headed outside. It had stopped snowing. My mother picked us up and drove Kenzie home. I gave her a little hug and kiss goodbye.
My mom had her learner's permit, and technically wasn't allowed to drive Kenz, but people didn't really mind in Storybrooke.
We headed down by the docks where my father worked in the shipyard. I wasn't very talkative, but I was proud of my mom for learning to drive. I was going to as well soon enough.
I could see my father walking back from the docks. He looked cold. He was all bundled in very well padded work clothes. Something caught my eye in the water. It looked like a pair of eyes but I couldn't make out what kind of sea creature it was, red and beady. Maybe it was just a reflection on the water.
My mother grabbed her stomach for a moment and let out a slight groan.
"You alright?" I turned to her.
"Swell." She said. "Alex I have something to tell you. Your father and I are very excited." Her tone switched very quickly to bubbly and giddy.
"What is it?" I pondered. Starting to smile a little.
"I'm pregnant!" She exclaimed. My jaw hit the floor. "You're going to have a little brother or sister!"
My father must've seen her through the window, because when he got in the back seat he said; "You couldn't wait until I got back inside?"
"Nope!" My mother couldn't contain herself. I loved seeing her this happy.
"Congratulations, mother." We hugged.
"How was work, dad?" I asked.
"Was fine. It's freezing out. Did you see the fire?" He said.
My mom and I's expression switched fast.
"What fire?" She said.
"One of the ships just burst into flames, took a while to but out but it's been blackened to a crisp." He pointed. The top mast of a dark, small sailboat cast a shadow in the moonlight.
"What started it?" I questioned.
"Nobody knows." He said.
I had an uneasy feeling.