In Storybrooke, Mr. Gold strives to be the man Bae used to love--until Belle is kidnapped to Neverland. If he resumes his Dark One powers to save her, can he control them? In the Enchanted Forest, Emma battles ogres, zombies and her ex to get back h...
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August (Pinocchio): Do I even look like him at all? (The Return)
Smee took one last look at the rusted biscuit tin lying atop the moldering lilies, wilted chrysanthemums, and squashed sunflower heads. Being crushed in the garbage truck compactor tomorrow morning would serve it right.
He slapped the dumpster lid down and wheeled it to the curb. Whistling, he sauntered through the backdoor of Game of Thorns, locked it, and headed for the cash register. If he was lucky, he'd find some loose change on the floor. One time he'd even pocketed a customer's gold earring.
Rounding the rack of decorative doormats, Smee stopped cold. It can't be. The box was sitting atop the checkout counter. Apprehensively, he took three more steps and craned his neck. Bloody hell. The scratched-up wreath of Christmas bells adorning the lid identified it as the very same hard-to-find object the pipsqueak had dug up that morning.
As the hook unlatched and the lid creaked open, Smee froze. If anything, the light inside looked hotter and brighter than it had that afternoon.
"No! No! No!" Smee threw his hands up to shield his face. Then he shrieked as the punishing white light seared his knuckles.
* * * * *
"Don't be bashful," Mr. Gold murmured.
August continued lying on his cot making ahem and hmm noises. Now that he was flesh again, he couldn't work up the energy to speak. His muscles ached from being stiff for so long. His mouth was dry from dehydration. The faint smell of Geppetto's cooking wafting up through the floorboards reminded him he hadn't eaten since the Storybrooke curse broke. That Mr. Gold had retrieved his cane and was idly drumming his fingers on the brass handle made him feel weaker still. He suspected a sharp rap would really hurt.
At least he'll no longer be able to tell if I'm lying. Not, so the Blue Fairy. She could tell. She could always tell.
"I know what the legends say," Mr. Gold continued softly. "Speak the creature's name and she shall appear, but magic works differently here. I don't know what powers she has regained, but I rather doubt popping in and out of rooms is one of them."
You'd be surprised. A dozen years before, the Blue Fairy had managed to ship herself to him in a small wooden box, so he could take her to see Emma's baby daddy. How she'd convinced the poor man to ditch the love of his life remained a mystery, but she always accomplished what she said she would. If she wasn't flitting around August's bedroom, she was still flitting about inside his head.
Mr. Gold loomed forward, training his hypnotic brown eyes on August's. "Whisper it if you must, dearie, but I will have your answer."
August let the vulnerability and anxiety he felt show on his face. It would make repeating the story the Blue Fairy had concocted for him the previous spring all the more convincing. "You're right. She gave me the drawing. Baelfire drew it in exchange for a magic bean."
