#i feel like she really toes the line in s1... like she could have fallen on either side

[needsmustleap]

the thing about christine is that she's not a bitch just to be a bitch. she's a bitch for the artistry of it.... she's in it for the craft. the showmanship. the drama. she's devoted to the performance of it, and she nails it! every! single! time! so you have to give it to her in that sense

[poorreputation]

SPN 1X01 Pilot Retrospective Meta

Tag list for old episodes meta! (let me know if you wanna be tagged):

@emblue-sparks @metafest @verobatto-angelxhunter @evvvissticante @dea-stiel @sudo-apt-get-destiel @wildligia (tumbler’s not letting me tag you, sorry)

Pre re-watch notes/things to touch on:

Comparing the Woman in White to John, Sam and Mary/hindsight notes.

S1 motivations vs. S14/15 endgame.

Episode Notes:

Written by: Eric Kripke

Directed by: David Nutter

A long post, so I will put it behind the cut.

Lawrence, Kansas

22 years ago

We begin our tale with Mary bringing Dean into Sam's nursery to say goodnight. John enters the room, and in a nice bit of short-hand, he's wearing a USMC (United States Marine Corps) shirt, showing John was a soldier.

There's a shot of Mary and John in a picture. We already know they're married, so why is it here?

Mary thinks it's John in the nursery, only to find him asleep in the living room in front of the TV. (again, a connection to John's past, he's fallen asleep watching a war movie)

Something that'll become a continuity issue, later in the show: Mary's many years of experience being a Hunter, only to not recognize the flickering of lights as a sign of trouble.

Of course, Mary's wearing a white gown, (white is usually seen as a pure color/ of purity, but in this instance a connection to the Woman in White/see Jess later)

Mary's dead, and everyone involved is scarred for life.

The look on John's face, as we finish the Lawrence sequence, is that of a broken man, who's seen something that will eat away at his mind.

Stanford University Present Day (2005)

Okay, the first image we see of Jess is her in a nurse's costume, white with red trimming. Jess also has medium length curly blond hair. Guys, she looks like Mary, especially in Mary's death scene (white gown, covered in blood). 

We focus in on the picture of Mary and John for visual shorthand, confirming this is a grown-up Sam.

We establish Sam is "scary" smart, has aspirations of becoming a lawyer, and has a job interview on Monday.

Jess: "Knock 'em dead on Monday." laying it on thick, Kripke.

Sam: "What would I do without you?"

Jess: "Crash and burn."

*smooch*

Damn you, Kripke.

Night scene, and holy shit, why do Sam and Jess have so many plants? Why doesn't future Sam have plants in the bunker, you know, something low maintenance?

Dean, why the fuck can't you use the door? Or a phone?

From the get-go, Dean's cocky, suffers from eldest sibling syndrome, and is a shameless horn-dog.

Sam: "He's on a Miller time shift." See, when I first watched the pilot, years ago, I didn't realize this was Sam implying John was a drunk. These things would just fly over my head.

Sam wants to make a point of including Jess in the conversation, of being honest. And yet, the moment Dean says John is on a hunt and hasn't returned, that honesty goes right out the window. More on that later.

Sam and Dean's exposition dump in the hallway, a part of me feels it's an odd way to catch the audience up to speed, while the other part of me knows this is how families argue when they spend most of their time biting their tongues. Sam especially seems the type to mull over his thoughts, storing away comebacks for the perfect moment when they'll be most effective (like later in the episode). Also, it's been years since the brothers have seen each other (we're told later it's been at least 2 years since Dean bothered Sam), they're so icy towards one another.

Sam: "You think Mom would've wanted this for us?" we'd find this out later in S4, but, no. Funny enough, maybe if Mary shared her knowledge of Hunting, something more could've been done (foreshadowing).

Dean: "What're you gonna do? Just live some normal, apple pie life?" Dean, if you'd only taken your own advice, we could've avoided S6.

Sam, paraphrasing John: "If you're gonna go, stay gone." Well, that's only very emotionally manipulative.It does, however, remind me of the U.S. military’s views on those dishonorably discharged, and since John raised them as "warriors", it's not a stretch to think, in a time of crisis, John treated his sons as soldiers.

Dean: "I can't do this alone."

Sam: "Yes, you can."

Dean: "Yeah, well, I don't want to."

This exchange, this vulnerability from Dean, after his initial introduction of being a cocky asshole who hits on his brother's girlfriend, shows just how much of a facade Dean's attitude is. In the end, he's a kid scared of losing his Dad.

It's this vulnerability that convinces Sam to listen.

Come the fuck on, "I can never go home." after we establish Sam left John and Dean, left Hunting behind, and was told to never come back (home). KRIPKE. YOU'RE *not* SUBTLE.

2 years, Dean says, since they last talked. Either Sam entered college late, (20 rather than 18) or Sam and Dean kept in touch even after Sam and John's blow-out fight.

Again, Jess pries for more info, and Sam changes the subject. Nope, that’s not gonna bite him in the ass, at all.

Jericho, California

(insert biblical/wrestling reference here)

We meet monster fodder, I mean, some random dude, who tells his girlfriend Amy over the phone he can't see her that night. He slows down to a stop and picks up the Woman in White.

Anyway, another example of a young woman with curly, medium length hair in a white gown/dress. I mean, her house even looks a bit like John and Mary's old place.

We get a brief, blurry shot of the Woman in White and her kids. Sorry, but if you're familiar with the legend of her/La Llorona, it's easy to see where this is going.

Oh, and whatshisface is dead.

Chips and soda. Breakfast of champions.

Sam's being a real sassy bitch about how Dean and John get their funds. I get it, world-building for the audience, bit it shows just how passive aggressive Sam is in these early seasons; Dean's clearly playing moderator between Sam and an absent John.

Sam: "Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metalica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock." Sam, it's not Dean's fault you have poor taste. Shut your cakehole.

Sam: "Sammy's a chubby 12 year old." or, it's what a big brother says to his infant sibling to calm him down, oh wait.

Monster bait's name is Troy. Yeah, I don't care.

Dean sassing the officer and Sam stomping Dean's foot. Yep, they're brothers. This interaction is where their chemistry really starts to shine through.

Amy and her friend are peak mid-2000's goths/emos, good lord.

Dean's "I told you so" smart-ass look as the friend shares the rumors in town, he's such an older sibling.

They... they never tell Amy what happened to her asshole boyfriend, huh? Well. Sucks for Amy.

Researching on a public library computer, fucking hell. (nothing wrong with that, I’ve worked in a public library, but they’re doing super-secret Hunter’s stuff in such a public place)

Have it paused on a photo of Constance Welch, the Woman in White, and the article mentions her husband's exact line of work; associate manager who works the graveyard shift at Frontier auto salvage. Gives me shades of Bobby, who also lost his wife under tragic circumstances.

A mother leaves her child unattended, comes back to check on them, tragedy strikes. Or, so the story goes.

Dean confronts Sam about living a life of willful ignorance, and even asks if Jess knows the truth. Sam makes it clear she doesn't and he intends it to stay that way, as Dean sarcastically quips, "That's healthy".

Really, the more I think about it, the more S6 feels like the inverse of S1; Dean tries to live a normal life, Sam comes stomping in to rain on his parade. Lisa is kept largely in the dark about Dean's past, and gets hurt because of it.

Dean: "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're gonna have to face up to who you are."

Sam: "And who's that?"

Dean: "One of us."

Sam: "No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

Sam thinks Dean's just talking about Hunting, but Dean means more than that, he means family. One of us, Dad and me, a Hunter and a Winchester.

Sam: "Mom's not coming back." and so on about how he doesn’t even remember Mary, doesn’t share John’s obsession. 

Dean: "No chick flick moments." Dean, dude, bro, you're the one who started this by breaking into Sam's place like a dramatic bitch, and then proceeded to give life/relationship advice. It's already a chick flick.

John's room being covered head-to-toe in case notes, only to come to the obvious conclusion it's the Woman in White. But, Sam said, because of the salt line, John was worried. Now, as far as I can remember, John was never a target of this spirit, so, I think he was paranoid about Yellow Eyes. After all, John had notes on devils/demons up, too, so maybe. I could be wrong.

There's something amusing about Sam and Dean's first duo Hunt, one without John, includes one of them getting arrested. Just, how rare that happens in the rest of the show, compared to how many laws they break daily.

Sam talks to Joseph Welch, who seems to wear the same clothes as Bobby. Also, Sam looks like a giant standing next to him.

Joseph lies to Sam's face about his and Constance's marriage, and it takes Sam a moment to work up the nerve to call him out on it. Or, it's Sam losing his temper. They're dealing with a murderous ghost, after all, and this guy wants to hide the truth.

Sam's done with lying witnesses, and now he's making fake calls to the cops. Gloves are OFF.

So, it's revealed John's purposefully leaving Sam and Dean clues, the journal, and the coordinates, but won't outright tell the truth.

Sam: "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been." See, Sam, that's only in the cheating department. You are, however, keeping Jess in the dark about dangerous stuff. Can any relationship with such big lies every be a faithful one?

Again, the imagery of the flickering lights. A standard in the show later for when a ghost's around, but considering all the visual parallels between the Woman in White and Mary, I think it's intentional.

That CGI of the ghosts vanishing was kinda shit, though. So is the sound of water swirling down a drain, I'm now just thinking of a toilet.

Dean: "I'll take you home." and there, in an episode where the ghost is afraid to go home and face the consequences of their actions, Sam too must go back to Jess.

Sam discovering Jess' body on the ceiling, as the room's engulfed in flames, never fails to give me chills. Hot damn.

Post Episode Notes:

While the pilot is a treasure trove of world building, plotting of character arcs, and chemistry between Jared and Jensen, it still doesn't make up for the fact it's bookended with 2 women getting fridged. Mary and Jess don't get to be characters, only fuel for man-pain, and argue with me all you want, but Mary's send-off in S14 is far superior to what she got in the pilot.

I remember seeing Kripke discuss how many drafts they went through while writing the pilot, and it feels like that at quite a few points. Like maybe the sheriff was to get more time, or Troy's father, who I believe is a cop, would've been more vital to the plot. And Amy, who'll spend who knows how many weeks and months putting up missing person posters for Troy.

I believe Kripke also said they'd considered killing John at the end, rather than Jess. I think, and this is pure speculation, the more they went into the lore for the Woman in White, the more they knew Jess had to die. I don't like it, wish they could've done it different, but it fits the story they wanted to tell.

The Woman in White, John, Mary and Sam, in hindsight

It's a retcon from S4, but if Mary was honest with John about her past as a Hunter, maybe they'd have a better chance with fighting Azazel. It's tragically paralleled to Sam not telling Jess about his own past, which may have prevented her death. And while you could say Heaven and Hell would still have their way, and shape Sam and Dean the way they want to, I'd like to think, given the chance, free will could prevail, And, look at how often keeping secrets is framed as one of the worst things the characters could do to each other?

Additionally, if John had been honest with Sam and Dean about what he wanted them to do, and what kind of danger they were really in, maybe Sam wouldn't have left Jess alone.

Thank you for reading this monstrosity of a meta, I hope you enjoyed/found it interesting!

[unfolded73]

This Graceful Path (3/19)

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex). If you are someone who uses my usual distinction between M and E to decide whether to read something I wrote, this is more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one of which is S1 canon (in this chapter) and one of which is not but happens in Chapter 2. This chapter contains descriptions of violence.

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thanks to the CSBB mods ( @sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.

ART! The first of @pompeiiablaze’s wonderful art pieces accompanies this chapter and is included below in the text. Also go give her some love.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 3

The phone on Emma’s desk rang, the jangly sound of an actual bell inside the workings of the ancient telephone. She jumped, then picked up the receiver.

“Sheriff’s station.”

“Emma, it’s Graham. I’ve found… I need your help.” She could hear his breaths panting down the phone line.

“Are you hurt? Where are you, are you sick?” she asked, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She should never have let him go, Emma thought. She should have followed him.

“Not me, I… There’s been a murder. We need to…” He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, he sounded calmer, more professional. “I’ve found a body in the woods. About a quarter mile west of trail marker 47. Bring a trail map so that you can locate me. Also, there should be some evidence kits in the storage room, do you remember I showed you? Pack up some evidence kits and get down here as soon as you can. Also flashlights; it will be dark soon.”

“Okay, got it.” Hanging up, Emma jerked up out of her chair, out of the comforting pool of light from her desk lamp, and made for the storage closet. Maybe it was a bear attack or something, she thought, and not a murder. Graham himself had laughed at the idea of a murder happening in Storybrooke. He’d found the very idea hilarious.

In mere minutes, she was behind the wheel of the squad car. Flipping on the lights and the siren for the first time since Graham had shown her where the switches were, she peeled out of the parking space.

By the time she parked along the side of the road at the closest hiking trail crossing to marker 47, the remaining daylight was gone and a damp, foggy chill had settled in the air. Shouldering the bag of evidence kits and clicking on her flashlight, Emma set off down the trail. At marker 47, she stopped and pulled her phone out, opening the compass app. “West,” she muttered, setting off in the right direction once she had confirmed what the right direction was.

She was so focused on the compass and not tripping over any fallen tree limbs, she almost collided with Graham where he was standing and waiting for her. His hands reached out and gripped her arms to steady them both.

“Over here,” he said, pointing. Emma stopped and reached into the bag, producing the other flashlight to give to him.

They made their way carefully forward. “Emma, have you seen a dead body before?” Graham asked.

She thought back to the days when she’d been living rough, on the run for jumping bail on a couple of minor thefts. She thought of Cleo. “Yeah, I’ve seen a dead body.”

“Just to warn you, the scene is bad.” He glanced back at her. “I’ve called the coroner, but we should have enough time to investigate before they get here to pick up the body.”

Heart racing, Emma continued to follow him. She didn’t know the first thing about a proper crime scene investigation; she hoped Graham did.

“Before you touch anything, put on gloves,” Graham said.

Emma rolled her eyes. Well, she knew that much. Dropping her bag on the ground, she stepped forward.

The first thing she saw were men’s dress shoes, the toes pointed up to the air. She walked closer, moving the flashlight up the body; when she got to the torso, her gorge rose and she had to swallow, breathing sharply through her nose. It was hard to tell because the suit was dark, but the entire front of the man’s suit appeared to be soaked with blood. Underneath the shredded fabric, she caught a glimpse what she feared were partially exposed organs. Averting her eyes from that sight, she jerked her flashlight up to the face.

(x)

“Holy shit, this is Mr. Gold.”

“Yeah,” Graham agreed.

“Could an animal have done this?”

Graham had put on gloves from the bag she’d brought, and he knelt down and carefully moved Mr. Gold’s tie aside before undoing a few of his shirt buttons. “These look like stab wounds to me. Definitely not claw or teeth marks.”

Her mouth seemed suddenly full of saliva, and she swallowed again. “Is there a weapon?”

“Not that I’ve found.” He gestured to the side. “There’s a shovel, but it didn’t do this.”

Emma went over and looked at the shovel where it lay next to a shallow hole. “Did you check to see if something was buried here?”

Graham shook his head. “The ground below seems to be undisturbed. Like Gold was in the process of digging the hole when he was killed, not that he was filling one in.”

“Or maybe the killer was digging the hole?” she asked.

“Perhaps.”

Emma pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the shovel and the hole. “Should I take pictures of the body?”

“Be my guest.”

Trying her best for professional detachment, Emma took a series of photos of Mr. Gold’s corpse. “Did you find anything else?” she asked Graham.

He circled the small clearing, examining the ground. “Before I lost the light, I could tell that two people came from that direction,” he said, pointing.

“Wow, you’re quite the tracker.”

He flinched. “I couldn’t make out any clear footprints, though. The earth is too dry.” Graham began to work, wrapping one of the evidence bags around the blade of the shovel and another around the handle, despite dismissing it as a possible murder weapon. Emma looked around, at a loss for how she could help. There didn’t seem to be any other evidence, and short of pulling plants out of the ground and putting them in evidence bags, all she could do was stand there and continue to avert her eyes from the body.

“Are you feeling any better?” she asked Graham. “I really think you’re coming down with something.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted, but he still looked pale to her.

She heard a crashing through the underbrush, making her jump and swing her flashlight around toward the sound.

Two paramedics approached, carrying a stretcher with a black body bag slung over it. And with them—

“Regina,” Emma said.

“I expect to be notified when a dead body is found in the woods, Sheriff,” she said, addressing Graham and ignoring Emma completely. Regina wore an immaculate cream-colored suit and heels, looking completely incongruous as she stood there in the woods with her hands on her hips. “Why do I have to hear about it from Doctor Whale?”

“I was planning to let you know first thing in the morning,” Graham said, stepping forward and blocking her view of the body.

“That’s not good enough. Who is it?” Regina made to walk around Graham, and he stopped her with a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s quite gruesome, Madam Mayor,” he said, but she pushed him aside and marched over to where the paramedics were going through the motions of looking for life signs from the corpse.

It was Regina’s silence when she saw Gold that told the tale of how shocked she was, rather than any kind of exclamation she might have made. She was still as a stone, staring down at him, and when she spoke, her voice was like ground-up glass.

“Who did this?”

“We don’t know,” Graham answered. “But rest assured—”

“I don’t want your assurances!” Regina said, turning on a dime to white-hot anger. “Do you have any idea…?” She stopped herself and exhaled. “We have to find who did this immediately.”

“We will,” Emma said, trying to sound confident. She didn’t know if the source of Regina’s emotion was due to the loss of control of her town or some feeling she had toward Gold, but whatever it was, it was laced with something Emma had never seen from Regina before: fear.

Finally and mercifully, the paramedics began the process of putting the corpse inside the body bag and zipping it closed.

“The dag— the murder weapon, did you find it?”

“It wasn’t left at the crime scene,” Graham said, “but once Doctor Whale has examined the entry wounds, we should have a better idea of what we’re looking for.”

Regina opened her mouth, only to snap it closed again.

“You knew Mr. Gold pretty well, Regina,” Emma said. “Did he have any enemies?”

Regina laughed darkly. “Who in this town wasn’t his enemy?” She started to pace but stopped short after only two steps. “Killian Jones.”

“The harbormaster?” Emma asked.

“He hated Gold more than most,” Regina said.

The paramedics had the body strapped to the stretcher and started making their way back toward the hiking trail. With nothing left that they could do in the woods, Graham, Emma, and Regina followed.

“I’ve never heard of any bad blood between Gold and Jones,” Graham said.

“It was a long time ago, but it still festered,” Regina said. “Bring Killian in and question him. Search his apartment, search his office, search every boat in the harbor. Believe me, Killian Jones should be your number one suspect.”

~*~

“What can you tell me about Gold’s death?” Sidney asked in a rush, jumping in front of Emma as she tried to make her way through the crowd at Granny’s and get an infusion of caffeine. It was her second night in a row working late, and it was taking its toll. All she wanted was a simple coffee, but with the chaos currently swirling in the diner, there wasn’t going to be anything simple about it. She stared at the lapels of Sidney’s immaculate suit, feeling slightly nauseated by the overwhelming scent of his cologne.

“If you think I’m going to talk to you after—”

“Come on, Deputy Swan, this is the biggest story to ever hit this one-horse town. You have to give me something. What was the state of the body? Do you have any suspects?” Sidney tried to give her a disarming smile. With a glance, Emma could tell that he wasn’t the only one in the crowded diner waiting for her to speak.

“Sheriff Humbert gave his official statement earlier, and that’s all we’re going to say about it during an open investigation.” She pushed her way toward the counter, as the patrons around her grumbled and reluctantly moved aside.

“The question I have is, who’s going to inherit all of his property?” Granny said, both to her and to anyone standing within earshot.

“Did he have any family?” Emma asked.

“There were rumors of an estranged son, but no one in town’s ever met him, far as I know.”

“Well, someone that rich must’ve had a lawyer. Maybe more than one. I’m sure they’ll sort it out. That part of it’s not really my job,” Emma said.

“It’s your job if somebody killed him to inherit his money,” Ruby pointed out, tapping on the counter with a long, red fingernail.

She had a point. There was so little Emma knew about Gold that it was hard to know where to begin. She had hoped Graham would have some ideas of how to investigate this killing, but he’d been holed up in his office for most of the day.

Returning to the station, she eyed him through the glass wall that separated his office from the rest of the room. Taking a deep breath, she approached.

“Did you hear from Dr. Whale?”

Graham was staring into space and didn’t answer her.

“Graham?” Still no response. “Graham!”

Finally, he looked up. The only word she could call up to describe his facial expression was haunted. “What is it, Emma?”

“I asked if you heard from Dr. Whale about the medical examination of Gold.”

“Oh, yeah.” He picked up a report from his desk, almost as if he’d forgotten about it. “Cause of death, puncture of the right ventricle of the heart. Other stab wounds to the chest and abdomen, fourteen in all. Wounds are consistent with a short sword or dagger of at least a twelve inches in length. Markings on three ribs consistent with a curved or irregularly-shaped blade.”

“Wow, okay, that’s useful. Although, sword? Really?”

Graham shrugged.

She huffed in frustration. “Graham, I know you’re… I don’t know, going through some stuff and maybe aren’t feeling a hundred percent. But isn’t this kind of a big deal? Don’t we need to be out… investigating?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, and then stood up and brushed past her, continuing through the station and out the door. Emma chased after him. She found him standing on the sidewalk outside, looking around in confusion at the darkened street.

“Graham?” Emma said, approaching him slowly.

“It’s my heart. I need to find it,” he muttered.

“What? Wait, is this another way of saying you can’t feel anything?”

“If I follow the wolf, I’ll find my heart,” he said, turning to face her. His eyes were fever-bright, she noticed now that she was close to him. She wondered if he would heed her if she insisted he go home and rest.

“Okay, you’ve lost me,” she said in as calm a voice as she could muster. “What does the wolf represent?”

He shook his head in frustration, his hand reaching out to grip her arm. “If I follow the wolf from my dreams, it will help me find my heart. I saw it in Henry’s book.”

“You’ve been talking to Henry about this?” She replayed what he had just said in her mind. “Hang on. Graham, you really think you don’t have a heart?”

“It’s the only thing that makes any sense. It’s the only thing that explains why I don’t feel anything.”

“Listen to me, Graham: you have a heart. If you didn’t, you’d be… you know. Dead.”

He shook his head as she spoke. “I don’t, she took it. She’s keeping it somewhere and I have to find it.”

“Look, I can prove it to you.” Emma reached for his hand, and as she took it she could feel him trembling. Bringing their joined hands together to his chest, she pressed his hand down, her splayed fingers fitting between his. There it was, the rhythmic thump-thump of his heart. Other than his pulse being quick, his heartbeat seemed normal to her untrained senses. They stood close, knees almost touching, and Emma looked into his eyes. “Feel that? It’s your heart.”

“It’s a trick.”

“Graham, let me take you to the hospital; you’re not well.”

A white flash of movement in the dark street caught Emma’s eye, and she turned to look. Staring back at her, at them, was a large white wolf.

“What the fuck.”

Graham’s gaze followed hers. “There it is, I’ve seen it before. I saw it in the woods last night.” “When you found Gold?”

“Come on,” he said as the wolf loped away. Graham chased after it, and there was nothing for Emma to do but chase after Graham.

“He better not lead us into the woods,” she muttered, glancing down at her boots. “I’m not exactly prepared for long-distance running.”

Pushing aside the thought that she was currently chasing an animal like this was some kind of Harry Potter story, she focused on what Graham had said about seeing the wolf in the woods the night before. She’d wondered how Graham had come across Gold’s body in the first place; now it seemed he’d come across it following a wolf. She wondered why he hadn’t mentioned it last night when she’d suggested an animal attack, not that wolves were in the habit of using twelve-inch blades.

The wolf led them across the grass of the cemetery, its green color fading as fall was beginning to turn into winter. The animal stopped in front of a stone crypt and sat on its haunches.

“This is Regina’s,” Graham said, still approaching.

“Graham, be careful.”

“The wolf won’t hurt us.” He looked up, seeming to focus on the symbol over the door. Was it tree branches? No, she thought, squinting at it. It was deer antlers.

“Why are we here?” Emma asked.

“Because of my heart. It’s in there,” he said, gesturing toward the crypt.

“Graham,” she said helplessly. How do you convince someone that their heart hasn’t been stolen from their chest? He was already pulling uselessly at the door to the crypt. “Okay, you know what? Let’s find out.” Maybe if she could show him there was nothing here, then he would let her take him to the hospital. Positioning herself at his side, she gave the door a sharp kick, forcing it open.

The inside of the mausoleum was small, dominated by a sarcophagus in the center. There really wasn’t much to the space: some recesses in the walls, one containing an urn but the rest with nothing in them. Emma turned on a flashlight as Graham fumbled around, getting more and more frantic.

“There has to be something here. A hidden door. Something.”

“Graham, there isn’t. It’s just what it looks like.”

“So, first you try to take my son,” came a steely voice behind them, and Emma whirled around to face Regina in the doorway, “and then you try to take my lover, and then you defile my father’s grave?”

“Take your who now?” Emma blurted. This hardly seemed the time or place to explain that she and Graham weren't like that, but it was tempting to do so.

“Don’t blame Emma, it was my idea. It’s my fault we’re in here looking,” Graham said.

“And what, pray tell, are you looking for?” Regina asked. Her red lips were a violent slash across her face in the dim light.

Graham seemed to shrink under her gaze. “Nothing.”

“Graham, you look unwell,” Regina said, taking his arm and steering him out of the mausoleum. “Let’s get you in bed so you can rest.” Emma followed, unsure of what to do.

Graham pulled away from Regina, taking two stumbling steps backward. “I’m not going with you.”

“Oh, but you’ll go with Miss Swan?” Regina said viciously, gesturing at Emma.

“Nuh-uh,” Emma said, her hands up. “Don’t bring me into this.”

“It has nothing to do with her.” He pulled himself taller, looking down at Regina calmly. “I thought the reason I couldn’t feel anything was because of me, but it’s you, Regina.”

Regina shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “And so you’re leaving me for her?”

“I’m leaving you for me. It’s over between us.”

“I don’t know what I ever did to you to deserve this,” Regina said, stalking toward Emma. “To have you keep coming after everything I hold dear.”

“I told you, Regina, it’s not her.” Graham sounded more lucid than he had all day, Emma couldn’t help but notice.

“None of this started happening until she got here,” Regina shouted, her hair whipping against her cheek as she jerked her head around from Emma to Graham. “Can you honestly tell me she’s not to blame for your sudden change of heart?”

Emma had had enough. “Regina, did you ever stop to think that maybe the problem isn’t with me, but with you? Henry came and found me. Graham asked for help from me. Both were miserable. Maybe, Madam Mayor, you need to take a good hard look in the mirror and ask yourself why that is. Why is everyone trying to get away from you?”

Regina’s eyes flashed with rage. “Both of you need to get out of my sight.” “Gladly,” Emma said, backing away. “Come on, Graham.” With one last look at Regina, he joined Emma and they walked out of the cemetery together.

They walked in silence for awhile until Graham broke the silence. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I kind of lost my mind.”

“It’s okay. You were sick and stressed out… And kind of heartbroken.”

“I don’t know why I let myself get mixed up with her,” he said.

“Because it was easy. Not feeling anything’s an attractive option when what you feel sucks.” She crossed her arms over her chest, shivering against the chilly, damp air.

“I guess,” he said. “Still, it feels a little bit like I’m waking up from a nightmare, and none of the things I did in the nightmare make sense now that I’m awake.”

Emma chuckled softly. “I’ve been there.” She reached out and tentatively patted his upper arm, the sleeve of his leather jacket smooth under her hand. “You’re gonna be okay, though. You believe that, right?”

He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know.” They came to the sidewalk and started back toward the sheriff’s station.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, though,” Emma said. “Hmm?”

“What the hell was up with that wolf?”

Graham shook his head. “I still have all these memories in my head, or what feel like memories. I have dreams that seem so real when I wake up. Dreams of this world where I’ve…” He stopped and turned to face her. “Dreams where Regina is a queen, and where she orders me to murder…” He frowned, his brow wrinkling. “I think it’s Mary Margaret, Regina wants me to cut out her heart…” His breaths have started to come quick and shallow, beads of sweat breaking out on his brow.

“Okay, calm down, let’s not go down this road again, not until you’ve had some rest—”

Graham gasped, his hand going to his chest.

“Graham? What’s wrong?”

He fell; Emma had never seen a human being topple over like a dead tree, but that’s what Graham’s body did. She made a grab for him, trying to slow his fall, but his head hit the pavement hard.

“Graham!” She dropped to his side, her fingers going to the pulse point of his neck, but she was too cold and scared to tell why she wasn’t feeling anything. “Graham, please wake up. Please.” Fumbling for the phone in her pocket, Emma pulled it out and dialed 911.

Chapter 4