Being lost is okay

Granny's and Gold's (2)

Stiles drove until his hands cramped. Drove until he almost crashed. Drove until all he wanted was to just give up and cry.

He stopped only when he needed to. Only when his beloved jeep, Roscoe, needed it. Then, and only then, he would take care of himself. He only ate store-bought food. That is only when he remembered. Everywhere he stopped, he would ask if anyone knew a Regina Mills, a pathetic attempt that didn't pay off. No one knew who she was.

Stiles was currently driving through New York, driving to Maine. He had always wanted to go. It couldn't hurt now.

The night continued to drag on, slowly but surely, Stiles reached Maine. Besides forests, there wasn't much in Maine. Stiles drove in silence. Roscoe begged for rest but Stiles continued to push. The sun crept its way to the surface, just as Stiles passed a sign.

'Welcome to, Storybrooke!'

Stiles' permanent scowl deepened at the little town. Parking Roscoe, he walked into a small restaurant.

Granny's.

His scowl lost some of its hatred at the name, remembering his own grandma. She was a sweet woman, who baked him cookies, and hugged him whenever he was sad. She sadly died from dementia but he will always have the memories. That was unless he got dementia. With his luck, Stiles figured it was only a matter of time.

Like mother, like daughter. Stiles thought bitterly.

The bell rang, as Stiles walked through the door. A grey headed women greeted him as he sat on a stool.

"Hey, hun," The woman greeted. "You're new."

"I am." Stiles smiled, nicely. By the look the woman gave, Stiles' smile wasn't up to par.

"We don't get new people here often. You stayin' long?" She asked, adjusting her glasses.

"Yeah, I think I will," Stiles nodded, the woman doing the same.

"Good. We could use some new folks here. Getting a little boring." Her smile grew. "You ready to order?"

Ignoring his grumbling stomach he asked, "Can I just get a water?"

"Just water?" The woman's eyes squinted as her eyes quizzically looked over Stiles.

"Yeah," Stiles squirmed under her gaze. The woman frowned but said nothing which Stiles was thankful for. Alone, Stiles looked around the room again. The shop looked comforting. It seemed to be people's hang out because almost all the tables and chairs were filled. The elderly woman came back with the water but was also holding a plate full of food and a milkshake. "I only wanted water."

"I know but I've seen people like you." She smiled, putting the plate and milkshake down.

"People like me?" Stiles asked.

"People who are running away from something and are searching for something new." She smiled.

"I can't take this. I don't have enough money." Stiles scowled, shoving the plate away.

"It's on the house." She smiled, nudging the plate back to Stiles.

"Thank you," Stiles looked at her name tag "Granny."

"Of course, dear." With that, she left to tend to other customers. Stiles begun to eat the food, almost crying at how good it tasted. Mid bite, a young woman came up to him and smiled.

"How do you like it." She asked.

"It's the best thing I've had in a while," Stiles answered truthfully.