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patriarchiaPortland, Oregon
11 Years Ago
"Now I'm going to tell you a story and at the end of it, you're going to have to make a decision. Will you do the right thing... or not?"
I know you're Baelfire.
For a moment, Neal felt a horrible twisting panic when he read those words, ready to bolt, to disappear again-- but on the heels of panic came anger, hot and sharp and vitriolic. He turns away from the boxed typewriter and grabs August's jacket sleeve, propelling him back against the alley wall. "So who are you?"
"I told you, my name is Aug--" he began but Neal cut him off with a raised fist drawn back to deliver a right cross.
"Don't mess with me! What the hell is your name?!"
August looked alarmed, like he hadn't anticipated anything but meek acceptance from the other man and he raised his hands in a gesture to placate Neal. "All right, just calm down. My name's..." He drew in a breath, looking off to the side for a moment; like Neal, he had long moved on from his given name and saying it, in this world, took more effort and courage than he often felt he had. "Pinocchio. I'm Pinocchio, Baelfire."
"Don't call me that," Neal said immediately, his expression twisting into one of haunted dislike as he released the other man's arm, stepping back as though to look over him for some telltale sign of the identity he claimed. "It's Neal. I'm Neal, you're August but if you're lyin' to me--"
August shook his head, his mouth turning down in a sardonic smile before he replied, "That's kind of my taboo, remember? It's gotten me into enough trouble in the past." He swung one leg over the motorcycle and took a seat on the leather before beginning to recount the tale of the Queen's Curse and what had happened, up to and including being sent through the wardrobe with Emma. He spoke of Storybrooke and the people trapped there without their memories by the curse, even his father, and of the prophecy of the savior on her 28th birthday to break it.
Neal listened to everything, mouth a thin line. He already knew he'd missed the deadline for meeting his buyer for the watches but he pushed that to the back of his mind... this was more important. He hated that magic, destiny, fate was intruding on his life again and even moreso that it wasn't just his life this time. August finished his recount and raised his chin, giving sincerity to his next words. "So now you know. I'm here for Emma, to make sure she can fulfill her destiny. If you try and keep her away from it, Ba-- Neal, do you know what'll happen to everyone there?"
"First of all, you really picked the wrong guy to pitch the whole 'destined fate' thing to," Neal muttered. "But I'm not going to leave Emma, whatever this savior thing is or not, I don't care. I'm not gonna abandon her like everyone else has done," he added, fixing August with a stare that the other man held only for a brief moment before looking away. Neal continued in a softer tone, "I've enough of that in my life... no more. You say you're like her guardian angel? Then now she's got two and you're just gonna have to deal with that."
August drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly. It was obvious that this conversation had not gone the way he'd wanted and that Neal's refusal hadn't been what he'd hoped to hear. "Are you going to tell her?"
"Not yet," Neal said firmly. "You said when she's twenty-eight... I'm not going to have this hanging over her head for the next decade. I'll tell her but then it's going to be her choice; I won't trick her into going."
August knew that was the best he was going to get and reluctantly nodded. "I'll help you out where I can," he said finally. "But you have to give up the crime, it puts you both at risk." He held one gloved hand out for the messenger bag on Neal's hip containing the stolen watches. "Give them to me and I'll take care of it. Here," he added, reaching into his pocket and held out a motel key in obvious trade. "It's paid until the end of the week. Once you get the money, you get her somewhere safe."
Neal stared at the key for a moment, fingers tightening instinctively on the bag's strap, obviously weighing the decision to trust August. Slowly he removed the bag and the exchange was made, then August kicked the Harley's starter and gave Neal a nod. "I'll see you around, Neal."
Vancouver, British Columbia
1 Year Later
The morning air was brisk and Neal kept his hands shoved in his pockets for warmth, his backpack slung over one shoulder with his work clothes stuffed inside. At 5:30AM the city was just waking up and his walk back to the apartment was often uninterrupted by other pedestrians... and it made the Harley pulling up behind him seem abnormally loud in the quiet if somewhat rundown neighbourhood. Neal stopped and turned, watching August remove his helmet and give him a grin.
"How've you been, Neal?"
Neal hadn't seen the man since that night in the alleyway and Neal remembered the pins and needles he'd waited on as he'd gone back to Emma and explained as much of the plan change as he could without straying into territory that was, ultimately, unbelievable at the time. He'd only said that his contact had changed and they should wait, though every moment he dreaded hearing the banging knock of police at the door. Instead one of the housekeepers had arrived the next morning with a sealed envelope and passed it over, saying it had been left at the front desk for them with no return address. Inside had been wads of cash (more actually, than he'd been expecting and he thought it somewhat hilarious that Pinocchio had apparently some good contacts) and Neal and Emma had wasted no time in using it to head north. New identification, new city, new goals.
It wasn't Tallahassee, but it was still the end of the Bonnie and Clyde act. He'd gotten a real job (still cleaning, but overnights at a hospital) where the pay was decent and the background check had been light, where once they did decide to move on, the references would be good. It also gave them stability and that, as it had turned out just a few weeks after leaving Portland, they had needed more than they'd known at the time.
"Been doing all right," he answered finally, though he suspected from the knowing grin that August was wearing, the man knew more than he was letting on. "I haven't told her yet, if that's what you're here to ask."
August shook his head, pulling one leg up to rest his arm on. "I trusted you when you said you'd tell her," he replied. "I still trust you to do that. Actually I came to give you something." He unbuckled one of the motorcycle saddlebags and pulled out a thick rectangular book, with a brown leather cover and embossed with a gold gilt title: Once Upon A Time.
Neal took one look at it and fixed the other with an incredulous stare. "Seriously??" he balked. "Why would I--"
"It's not for you," August interrupted. "I'm not going to make the baby shower but it's still good manners to give the gift. Congratulations, by the way. Do you know whether...?"
He should have known that August was keeping tabs but the well wishes smoothed the irritation at the book's presentation away and Neal couldn't help but grin a little foolishly, unable to restrain it. "It's gonna be a boy," he answered. "She's due in a couple weeks... we're still tossing names around."
Reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, August gave him a sincere smile. "I'm happy for both of you," he said quietly, genuinely. "You both deserve this family. As for the book, I think you'll know what to do with it. There might come a time when it helps." He continued to hold out the book until Neal reluctantly accepted it, shrugging the backpack from his shoulder to slide the weighty tome inside before he buckled the saddlebag closed again.
"You should come by sometime," Neal said, stepping back up onto the sidewalk as August slid his leg back over the Harley's seat. "You don't have to do this whole ships passing in the night thing, August. We could come up some kind of--"
Shoulders lifted in a shrug beneath the leather jacket and August shook his head, an old and not unfamiliar pain in his blue eyes. "Thanks but... I think it'd better if I didn't. For now, at least. But I'll let you know, all right?"
One year later to the day, Neal got a postcard with nothing written on it except for an address in Wisconsin. When he checked it out he found it was just a rented box at a post office in a random backwoods town. He wrote Neal, Emma & Henry on the back of a photograph of the three of them and mailed it off, and followed it with a new photo every year.
11 Years Ago
"Now I'm going to tell you a story and at the end of it, you're going to have to make a decision. Will you do the right thing... or not?"
For a moment, Neal felt a horrible twisting panic when he read those words, ready to bolt, to disappear again-- but on the heels of panic came anger, hot and sharp and vitriolic. He turns away from the boxed typewriter and grabs August's jacket sleeve, propelling him back against the alley wall. "So who are you?"
"I told you, my name is Aug--" he began but Neal cut him off with a raised fist drawn back to deliver a right cross.
"Don't mess with me! What the hell is your name?!"
August looked alarmed, like he hadn't anticipated anything but meek acceptance from the other man and he raised his hands in a gesture to placate Neal. "All right, just calm down. My name's..." He drew in a breath, looking off to the side for a moment; like Neal, he had long moved on from his given name and saying it, in this world, took more effort and courage than he often felt he had. "Pinocchio. I'm Pinocchio, Baelfire."
"Don't call me that," Neal said immediately, his expression twisting into one of haunted dislike as he released the other man's arm, stepping back as though to look over him for some telltale sign of the identity he claimed. "It's Neal. I'm Neal, you're August but if you're lyin' to me--"
August shook his head, his mouth turning down in a sardonic smile before he replied, "That's kind of my taboo, remember? It's gotten me into enough trouble in the past." He swung one leg over the motorcycle and took a seat on the leather before beginning to recount the tale of the Queen's Curse and what had happened, up to and including being sent through the wardrobe with Emma. He spoke of Storybrooke and the people trapped there without their memories by the curse, even his father, and of the prophecy of the savior on her 28th birthday to break it.
Neal listened to everything, mouth a thin line. He already knew he'd missed the deadline for meeting his buyer for the watches but he pushed that to the back of his mind... this was more important. He hated that magic, destiny, fate was intruding on his life again and even moreso that it wasn't just his life this time. August finished his recount and raised his chin, giving sincerity to his next words. "So now you know. I'm here for Emma, to make sure she can fulfill her destiny. If you try and keep her away from it, Ba-- Neal, do you know what'll happen to everyone there?"
"First of all, you really picked the wrong guy to pitch the whole 'destined fate' thing to," Neal muttered. "But I'm not going to leave Emma, whatever this savior thing is or not, I don't care. I'm not gonna abandon her like everyone else has done," he added, fixing August with a stare that the other man held only for a brief moment before looking away. Neal continued in a softer tone, "I've enough of that in my life... no more. You say you're like her guardian angel? Then now she's got two and you're just gonna have to deal with that."
August drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly. It was obvious that this conversation had not gone the way he'd wanted and that Neal's refusal hadn't been what he'd hoped to hear. "Are you going to tell her?"
"Not yet," Neal said firmly. "You said when she's twenty-eight... I'm not going to have this hanging over her head for the next decade. I'll tell her but then it's going to be her choice; I won't trick her into going."
August knew that was the best he was going to get and reluctantly nodded. "I'll help you out where I can," he said finally. "But you have to give up the crime, it puts you both at risk." He held one gloved hand out for the messenger bag on Neal's hip containing the stolen watches. "Give them to me and I'll take care of it. Here," he added, reaching into his pocket and held out a motel key in obvious trade. "It's paid until the end of the week. Once you get the money, you get her somewhere safe."
Neal stared at the key for a moment, fingers tightening instinctively on the bag's strap, obviously weighing the decision to trust August. Slowly he removed the bag and the exchange was made, then August kicked the Harley's starter and gave Neal a nod. "I'll see you around, Neal."
Vancouver, British Columbia
1 Year Later
The morning air was brisk and Neal kept his hands shoved in his pockets for warmth, his backpack slung over one shoulder with his work clothes stuffed inside. At 5:30AM the city was just waking up and his walk back to the apartment was often uninterrupted by other pedestrians... and it made the Harley pulling up behind him seem abnormally loud in the quiet if somewhat rundown neighbourhood. Neal stopped and turned, watching August remove his helmet and give him a grin.
"How've you been, Neal?"
Neal hadn't seen the man since that night in the alleyway and Neal remembered the pins and needles he'd waited on as he'd gone back to Emma and explained as much of the plan change as he could without straying into territory that was, ultimately, unbelievable at the time. He'd only said that his contact had changed and they should wait, though every moment he dreaded hearing the banging knock of police at the door. Instead one of the housekeepers had arrived the next morning with a sealed envelope and passed it over, saying it had been left at the front desk for them with no return address. Inside had been wads of cash (more actually, than he'd been expecting and he thought it somewhat hilarious that Pinocchio had apparently some good contacts) and Neal and Emma had wasted no time in using it to head north. New identification, new city, new goals.
It wasn't Tallahassee, but it was still the end of the Bonnie and Clyde act. He'd gotten a real job (still cleaning, but overnights at a hospital) where the pay was decent and the background check had been light, where once they did decide to move on, the references would be good. It also gave them stability and that, as it had turned out just a few weeks after leaving Portland, they had needed more than they'd known at the time.
"Been doing all right," he answered finally, though he suspected from the knowing grin that August was wearing, the man knew more than he was letting on. "I haven't told her yet, if that's what you're here to ask."
August shook his head, pulling one leg up to rest his arm on. "I trusted you when you said you'd tell her," he replied. "I still trust you to do that. Actually I came to give you something." He unbuckled one of the motorcycle saddlebags and pulled out a thick rectangular book, with a brown leather cover and embossed with a gold gilt title: Once Upon A Time.
Neal took one look at it and fixed the other with an incredulous stare. "Seriously??" he balked. "Why would I--"
"It's not for you," August interrupted. "I'm not going to make the baby shower but it's still good manners to give the gift. Congratulations, by the way. Do you know whether...?"
He should have known that August was keeping tabs but the well wishes smoothed the irritation at the book's presentation away and Neal couldn't help but grin a little foolishly, unable to restrain it. "It's gonna be a boy," he answered. "She's due in a couple weeks... we're still tossing names around."
Reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, August gave him a sincere smile. "I'm happy for both of you," he said quietly, genuinely. "You both deserve this family. As for the book, I think you'll know what to do with it. There might come a time when it helps." He continued to hold out the book until Neal reluctantly accepted it, shrugging the backpack from his shoulder to slide the weighty tome inside before he buckled the saddlebag closed again.
"You should come by sometime," Neal said, stepping back up onto the sidewalk as August slid his leg back over the Harley's seat. "You don't have to do this whole ships passing in the night thing, August. We could come up some kind of--"
Shoulders lifted in a shrug beneath the leather jacket and August shook his head, an old and not unfamiliar pain in his blue eyes. "Thanks but... I think it'd better if I didn't. For now, at least. But I'll let you know, all right?"
One year later to the day, Neal got a postcard with nothing written on it except for an address in Wisconsin. When he checked it out he found it was just a rented box at a post office in a random backwoods town. He wrote Neal, Emma & Henry on the back of a photograph of the three of them and mailed it off, and followed it with a new photo every year.