18Title: Finding Happy Endings
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Snow/Prince Charming, Mary Margaret/David, others to be determined
Spoilers: Whole series up to this date. If I cite an episode that airs later, I will make specific mention.
Warnings: AU, some mild fairytale violence, mild language
Beta: Me, so typos likely (If anyone wants to beta...)
Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything aside from massive amounts of college debt.
Summary: Caught between life and death when the curse hit, Prince Charming remained there until Emma returned to Storybrooke and the curse began to break. Now, hovering between two lives, he must fight to remember who he is. As the curse continues to weaken, he won't be the only one.
Author's Note: WHITE FLAG! Sorry for the delays in posting this and everything else. I was preoccupied with getting a job and then once I got said job, settling into the routine. As if that wasn't enough, they've been doing a ton of hiring and I've come to the conclusion that I'm not getting enough hours, so I'm back to job hunting for employer number 2. Anyway, my must has been all but squashed after that. But it's back! Or at least, so I hope. Anyway, I'm sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 4: Life Goes On...
Later that evening, long after visiting hours had ended and most of the nurses had gone home for the evening, David gingerly shifted onto his hip and pulled the storybook Henry had given him out from under his pillow. The leather cover felt warm and familiar under his hands. Almost mesmerized, he traced the edges of the embossed letters with one finger.
Once Upon a Time…the words that preceded a tale of fantasy and adventure, romance and magic. They echoed through his mind with a strange familiarity. David took a deep breath and opened the book.
It didn't have an index. He thumbed through the book, stopping when something, a picture, an illuminated letter, a series of words, caught his eye and quickly came to the conclusion that, rather than being a series of unconnected stories bound together, it was all one story. Each chapter was just another adventure. Sometimes different characters were introduced, but they were all interconnected. The pictures were proof enough of that. The story Henry mentioned, the tale of Snow White and Prince and Charming, was just one part of it.
David found that story and began to read.
The world spun as he read. The scenes played behind his eyes like memories. He could smell the dirt of the forest, hear the wind in the trees, and feel the weight of a sword in his hands. Mary Margaret's voice echoed in his ears as he read, the words somehow familiar and foreign. He could feel her presence fill the room as he lost himself in a story more vibrant than anything anyone had tried to tell him since he'd woken up. It was the tale of a thief and a prince, the tale of a lost ring and a fugitive princess, the tale of a battle against trolls and against the truth, the tale of evil witches and loyal friends. It was the tale of a true love stronger than anything.
David felt the prince's aching loss as he rode through the forest to find Snow and it was as though his own heart was breaking when James arrived only to see the woman he loved lying in a glass coffin. David felt her cold lips against his own. And when her skin warmed and her eyes opened and she gasped with life, it was his hear that was mended.
Suddenly, Snow's face, one of two things that had not been crystal clear to him, snapped into focus. The sudden warmth that David felt radiating through his very soul when the princess woke pulled him out of the strange in-between place he'd been hovering in since he'd opened the book. He snapped back to reality with a jolt, starting slightly and nearly throwing the book off his laps. He just managed to grab it before it tumbled to the floor.
For a long moment, he just sat there, fighting to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. It didn't make any sense. How could reading a book, a fairy tale at that, seem more real that the story of own life? The images he'd seen as he'd read, they weren't just a mind's attempt to turn words into pictures. They were fully detailed, like memories. Even now, he could remember the birdsong, the smell of the carriage, the feel of the linen tunic against his skin with just as much clarity as the past few days. He could even remember how much it had hurt when Snow had shot the prince. David reached up unthinkingly and rubbed his arm where the prince had been shot. His heart skipped a beat when he felt the smooth, knotted skin of a scar in the exact same place.
"What?" he whispered, pulling up the thin fabric of his hospital issue pajamas to stare at the round circle of scar tissue on his arm.
His mind was spinning. The world felt like it was tilting around him. Nothing made sense.
A wave of exhaustion washed over David, quelling the many questions whirling through his mind. Reluctantly, he closed the book and slid it back under the pillow. Something inside of him whispered that the book held answers, answer that he needed desperately, but he was so tired and his head ached. No matter how much he wanted and needed answers, they would have to wait until tomorrow.
He ran a hand over his eyes tiredly. The strain of his first day fully conscience after literally who-knew-how-long asleep and the later hour were beginning to tell on him. He could barely stay awake. His mind was still spinning. So little made sense, he felt so confused and his head ached with it. Despite that, his eyes drifted closed and he slowly drifted off to sleep, the echoing laughing of an elusive thief ringing through his ears.
Over the next week, David fell into something of a routine. A nurse woke him every morning, usually from a dream featuring the thief from the story, who always bore an uncanny resemblance to Mary Margaret in his mind, for breakfast and physical therapy. They were slowly, but surely, coaxing long disused muscles back to full working order. He was almost constantly sore and tired, but it was well worth it.
Between noon and one o'clock was usually when Kathryn stopped by during her lunch break. Those visits inevitably left him more drained than his physical therapy sessions. She always brought pictures and little keepsakes with her from "their home" and told him stories of their life together in an effort to get him to remember. He never did and have to tell her that he didn't remember made him feel like the world's biggest heel, especially when he was becoming more convinced that he didn't want to remember. The more he learned about his "life" before the coma, the less he wanted to live it.
The only bright spot in his day was when Mary Margaret showed up. She came by as soon as she could get away school. Some days she was later than others, depending on when the parents picked her students up. He'd almost panicked when she didn't show up until nearly seven on Wednesday because of a teachers meeting that she'd forgotten to mention the day before. She'd bustled in, her customary tote over her shoulder and a Tupperware in her hands, apologizing and explaining that she'd had to go home to make dinner since Emma wouldn't eat otherwise and he'd mostly stopped listening after that because he had just been happy to see her.
When she'd finished apologizing, she handed him the Tupperware, which had consisted of the leftover lasagna she'd made before settling herself in and pulling out her paperwork for the night.
It was what they did every afternoon. Mary Margaret would spread out the papers she needed to grade and decide what he could grade, often while she worked on lesson plans and other grading. They would talk idly as they worked. Mary Margaret would chatter about her class, most often about Henry. David was particularly curious about the boy since Henry was the one who'd given him the storybook in the first place. David hadn't been able to find much time to read since that first night. He often fell asleep before visiting hours were over and something inside him was decidedly against letting anyone but Henry and maybe Mary Margaret or Emma, whom he hadn't seen again, know that he had it. While he was curious to learn more about what the book held, spending time with Mary Margaret was enough to keep the confusion and emptiness at bay for a time.
The hardest part of the day was always when she had to leave. David knew that, as a volunteer, Mary Margaret could stay past normal visiting hours and once she had, but she also felt a certain amount of responsibility toward Emma. It was one of the things that he found himself liking about her, even if it did hurt to watch her walk out the door.
David treasured the time he got to spend with Mary Margaret. It was as though those moments were in Technicolor while everything else was faded. They felt real when nothing else really did. She haunted his dreams, sometimes as the Mary Margaret he saw every day and sometimes as the beautiful princess he'd read about. The latter dreams always made him ache inside, as though something was missing.
All things considered, however, David was doing as well as could be suspected. He was slowly working back to physical fitness and he was doing all right emotionally. His memories weren't coming back and, when Kathryn wasn't giving him the sad eyes for not remembering, he was mostly dealing with that. It always helped with Mary Margaret was around.
"I don't know," Mary Margaret sighed, jolting David out of his thoughts. "M?"
David grinned and leaned forward for the notepad they were using for their game. "Mm-hm. Two of them."
She buried her face in her hands, a fetching blush rising to her pale cheeks. He chuckled. "Get it yet."
"Yes," she said, reappearing from behind her hands. "And I am completely mortified. I almost hanged on my own name." Laughter twinkled in her eyes as she spoke.
David reached for the pad and began filling in the still missing letters. "Don't worry. I would never have let you hang. I would have added fingers, toes, a hat, maybe a horse."
"Is this a game you played a lot…before?" she quickly tacked on.
"I don't know." He frowned slightly, not at the knowledge that he didn't remember, but at the strange tugging in his mind he always felt when he tried to remember something around Mary Margaret.
Her smile faded slightly. She cocked her head and gave him a reassuring look. "It'll come back. They're sending you home in a week, they have to think you're progressing, don't they?"
"Physically."
"Well, you're making new memories just fine."
"Maybe I'll like these better."
For a moment, David thought he'd overstepped. He'd been trying not to spend too much time attempting to define his feelings for Mary Margaret, especially considering he was supposed to be happily married. But he couldn't deny that every time they were together he felt something. He couldn't explain it and he couldn't define it, but there was something connecting them. David hadn't said anything to Mary Margaret because he did remember her reaction to his muddled attempts to tell her much it meant to him for her to stay when he'd first woken up. She definitely remembered that he was supposed to be married.
To his surprise, a shy smile spread across Mary Margaret's face. She ducked her head and glanced down, but didn't comment on what he'd said. "Okay, play again?" she suggested.
"Can I guess, too?"
They both looked up to see Kathryn walking in. It took David a moment to remember that it was Saturday and that Mary Margaret had the day off. She'd come in earlier that morning to volunteer and then come by to see him.
On some long forgotten reflex, David stood as Kathryn entered the room.
"Mrs. Nolan," said Mary Margaret, glancing around. "Ah…um…It's noon already. I should go," she finished awkwardly, edging around the foot of the bed. David wanted to ask her to stay, but something stopped him. Things were already awkward enough.
Kathryn smiled at Mary Margaret. "Good day, Miss Blanchard."
Mary Margaret sent her a quick smile before ducking out. The moment she was gone, Kathryn turned back to David. "I brought some more pictures. It's our old dog – Ajax, remember?"
Sighing, David looked at the picture. He'd never seen the dog before, but after everything, he couldn't bare to tell Kathryn that. So he plastered a smile on his face. "Yeah… Yeah, Ajax."
The smile that spread across Kathryn's face at that was so hopeful that he felt guilt spear through him for misleading her. He glanced away so that she wouldn't see any evidence of his deception on his face and his eyes fell on Mary Margaret, who had just finished signing out and was walking away. In that moment, there was no doubt who David would rather be with.
The next two days were hard for Mary Margaret. After having it thrown brutally back into her face that David was in fact married, she'd gone home. She'd known that her feelings for David weren't exactly appropriate, but it was far too easy for her to forget that when they were alone. He looked at her like she was the center of his universe and sometimes he said things that made something tingle down her spine.
Then Kathryn walked in and reality smacked her in the face.
It was one thing for David to think that he felt something for her. He didn't remember who he was. He was confused and he was looking for anything to anchor his life. She was the first person he could remember and she'd been saving his life when she did it. It only made sense that he would reach out to her. It only made sense that he might be confused when it came to what exactly they were to each other.
Which meant that she should be doing the responsible thing and keeping distance between them. She should be a good friend, she should be there for him, but she shouldn't be leading him along. Whether she meant to or not, that's exactly what she had been doing.
A brief discussion with Emma hadn't helped anything, though it had gotten her to stop scouring a hole in her dinnerware. Emma hadn't told her anything that she didn't know, but somehow, hearing someone else tell her how stupid it was to fall for a married man gave the situation that much more clarity.
Mary Margaret was still wrestling with what to do when Emma came bursting into the apartment late Sunday evening. Startled, Mary Margaret looked up at her roommate. She frowned when she saw the thunderous expression on Emma's face.
"Emma?" she asked cautiously.
"I don't want to talk about it," Emma snapped, storming upstairs.
Mary Margaret frowned. She definitely needed to talk, but she'd been around Emma long enough to realize that the other woman wouldn't say anything until she was ready. However, if she happened to make some hot chocolate the scent would eventually entice Emma down. If she left out a bottle of something alcoholic so that Emma could spike her drink, the other woman would open up that much more quickly.
Sure enough, Mary Margaret had no sooner put a dash of cinnamon in each of the two mugs she'd prepared when Emma came tromping down the stairs. She'd already changed into sweatpants that hung low on her hips and a tight tank top. Without a word, Emma snagged the mug Mary Margaret held out to her. Then she plopped down on the bar stool and proceeded to stare broodingly into her cup.
Mary Margaret let the silence stretch between them for a moment. Predictably, Emma spoke after a few minutes.
"Regina nearly got Henry killed."
Mary Margaret nearly dropped her mug. Of all the things she'd thought might be bugging Emma, that was not it. "What?" she managed to splutter.
"Some old mine tunnels collapsed day before yesterday. Henry thought their might be proof that his book was real hidden down there. Regina overheard Henry saying as much to me and Archie." Emma's grip on her mug tightened to the point that her knuckles went white. "Regina threatened Archie. I don't know how. She forced him to tell Henry that he was crazy, that believing his book is real is a delusion. Henry went into the mines to prove us all wrong. Archie when in after him. The tunnel collapsed."
Unable to sit still any longer, Emma pushed away from the bar roughly and began pacing back and forth. Mary Margaret could just watch and try to quell the fear growing in her belly. If anything had happened to Henry, she was almost certain Emma wouldn't be here and she definitely wouldn't be taking so long to get to the point. Even with that knowledge, she couldn't help but feel guilty for not realizing sooner that was something was wrong. She should have known the moment Henry came to the door and Emma dropped everything to help him.
"We found an air vent and they lowered me down," Emma continued, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. "I barely got to them in time. If Archie hadn't managed to get his umbrella through a hook on my harness, he would be dead."
"But they're both okay, right?" asked Mary Margaret.
Emma nodded sharply. Her fists clenched at her side.
Mary Margaret frowned. "There's something else, isn't there?"
There was a long moment before Emma answered. "I get that Regina doesn't want me muscling in between her and her son, but he found me and that oughtta mean something. I barely got him out of there and she shoved me aside."
A fierce urge to march up to Regina and punch her in the face rose up in Mary Margaret. Righteous anger, not just for Emma, but for Henry as well, seared through her veins. How dare that woman treat a child like that?
But just as quickly as it came, the anger left. That wasn't what Emma needed, and right now, she was the one Mary Margaret could help.
Setting her mug on the counter, Mary Margaret crossed the kitchen and gently laid an arm on Emma's arm, halting the other woman in her tracks. "It does mean something," she said gently. "Henry came to you and you've been doing everything to be there for him. You've been doing everything Regina hasn't and Henry knows that. No matter how many times she tries to push you away, as long as you're there for Henry when he needs you, she'll never succeed."
"How can you be so sure?" Emma asked, her voice little more than a broken whisper. It was rare that Mary Margaret caught a glimpse of the insecurities Emma kept buried deep inside, but in that moment she saw just how much Emma cared about Henry and just how much it was killing her that his chance for something better than she could offer was failing so spectacularly that he'd created a fantasy world to escape it. She saw just how much it hurt that Emma's every attempt to be something of a mother was thwarted by Regina.
"Because I know Henry," said Mary Margaret, sounding more confident than she felt. "He's been happier since he found you than I've ever seen him, even with everything that's happened. He loves you."
Emma sighed. "I don't know why," she muttered.
Wisely, Mary Margaret kept her mouth shut. Though she'd never actually spoken about her life, Emma had dropped enough hints for Mary Margaret to put together the pieces to the get a vague, but grim pictures. It hurt her heart that Emma was so jaded, but at least she was slowly beginning to see that there were people that cared about her.
"What about you?" Emma asked, clearly trying to change the subject. "Did you work everything out with David?"
Mary Margaret sighed. "I haven't seen him."
"So I'd take that as a no."
"That would be a fair assumption."
"Mar—"
"I know!" Mary Margaret moaned. "But he doesn't really have anyone in his corner right now. Even Kathryn is pressuring him to remember. He's attached to me and in his mental state, I can't take that away from him."
"Which is what makes you a good person," said Emma. A small smile curled her lips. "But you have to draw the line, for both your sakes, or your both going to end up hurt."
"I know," sighed Mary Margaret. "I'm just not sure how exactly to handle it."
Emma sighed and grabbed her now cold hot chocolate. "Well, I'm not the person to ask. Feelings and I are not very good friends. I tend to run and hide when they're involved."
"You know, that's not actually a good thing."
"Never said it was," Emma snorted, and that was the end of the conversation.
Alone in his room, Henry turned the glass shard he'd found earlier over in his hands. He wished he had his book, even if it was important the Prince Charming use it to get his memories back. Henry was almost certain that the glass was from Snow White's coffin, but he wanted to be sure. He needed to be sure that he had proof.
Before this, he'd been running on blind faith and coincidence. There was no proof that Emma's decision to stay in Storybrooke had anything to do with the clock working again or that that even meant that time was finally moving forward again. There was no proof that having Mary Margaret read to David had woken him up because they were Snow White and Prince Charming. It could have just been that having someone there for the first time in years had been enough to help pull David back. No matter what Henry believed, he knew that there were other explanations.
But to have proof beyond the uncannily accurate pictures in his books gave him hope like he hadn't felt since he'd found Emma.
Henry grinned to himself and slipped the piece of glass into the corner of his closet where his mother would never look. Despite nearly getting trapped in the mines, it had been a good day. Archie was a little closer to being Jiminy and the queen had lost a little bit of power. Even better, Emma was starting to put down roots. She was staying with her mother and she'd actually gotten a job. She might not have said anything, but Henry had noticed the badge on her belt. He might not have figured out who Sheriff Graham was supposed to be, but the fact that Emma had actually gotten a job in Storybrooke had to be a good sign.
"Henry! Bed!" Regina shouted from downstairs.
Henry sighed. "Yes, Mom."
He hurried into his pajamas and dived beneath the blankets. Despite the fact that his book wasn't even in the house and the shard was safely hidden, he didn't want to press his luck any further. He didn't want to get grounded. There was way too much that he still needed to do.
Author's Note: Just so you know, I switched the timeline a little bit. Mary Margaret doesn't have the confrontation with David and Kathryn by the pond until after finding out about what happened to Henry and Emma. I think that because Mary Margaret and David are in love that it would take more than another run in with Kathryn to make Snow back off. That scene, with a few of my own tweaks, will be in the next chapter.
If you have time, my sister and I have started a blog. The link is on my profile since it's gets edited out of regular posts. I'm Lady Aisling, and she's TheLadyTexas. We'd both love to hear from you. Stop by and drop us a line.