Beane Odette - Reawakened - A Once Upon A Time Tale

— Yes, — he said, shrugging again. — Of course. It sounds like you’ll be needing it.

Henry and Emma sat together at the diner, waiting for Mary Margaret to arrive and tell them about reading the story to John Doe the night before.

— I don’t want you to get your hopes up, — Emma said, sipping her hot chocolate. — We…

They both looked up as Mary Margaret, looking more excited than Emma had ever seen her, burst into the diner and beelined for their table.

— He woke up, — she said, sliding into the booth.

Emma didn’t even want to guess what kind of smile was on Henry’s face. This was not the plan.

— Excuse me? — she said.

— He grabbed my hand. Right at the end of the story.

— He’s remembering, — Henry said. He nodded to himself, as if this made perfect sense, and stood. — Let’s go to the hospital, — he said. — Come on! — He ran toward the door.

Emma tilted her head and looked at Mary Margaret.

— What are you doing? — she said.

— He really did grab my hand, — Mary Margaret insisted, sounding more like Henry now than Emma cared to consider. — We made — there was some kind of connection.

— Not the kind that has to do with Snow Whites and Prince Charming's, though?

— No, no, — Mary Margaret said. — No. Just a connection.

— Well then I guess we better go see for ourselves, — she said.

Sheriff Graham met them all at the door, hands up in a way that made Emma think something more had happened.

— What is it? — she said, stopping short.

— It’s nothing for you to be concerned with, — Graham said, looking over his shoulder. — I assume you’re here because of what happened last night? Between John Doe and Miss Blanchard? — Graham nodded curtly at Mary Margaret, and Emma was reminded that all of these people had relationships. She had no idea what theirs was.

— What’s wrong? — Mary Margaret said. — Is he okay?

— It’s not that he’s not okay, — Graham said, turning and leading them onto the floor. — It’s that he’s gone.

— Gone? — Emma said. — How is that possible?

They approached Dr. Whale, who was shaking his head, studying a chart.

— We’re not exactly sure, — Graham said.

— It’s not possible, — Dr. Whale said. — Scientifically, at least, — he added.

— And yet he’s not here, — Emma said. — Did someone take him?

— I don’t know. — Dr. Whale went silent, looking over their shoulders. Emma heard the clicking of heels. She tensed up and turned in time to see Regina stalking toward them. — What are they doing here? — she demanded. — What kind of operation are you running here, Sheriff? Is this or is this not a crime scene?

— What did you do? — Henry asked Regina.

Her face softened just a bit as she looked down at him, bent, and touched him on the shoulder.

— Nothing, Henry. I’m here to find out what happened to him.

— Why would the mayor get involved with a missing person? — Emma asked.

Regina straightened up. — Because I’m his emergency contact.

— You know him? — Mary Margaret asked. — How?

— I don’t know him, I found him, — Regina said. — Years ago. On the side of the road.

— But hold on, — Mary Margaret said. — If he’s out there, somewhere, wherever he is, can he — You can’t just wake up from a coma and be okay, — she looked at Dr. Whale, — can you?

— He’s been on feeding tubes for years, his legs are atrophied, and if he’s conscious, he’s disoriented and panicked. So no. He’s not okay. He needs to be back here immediately. I don’t want to speculate on what could happen to him.

— Then find him, — Regina said, taking Henry’s hand. — This is not a place for you, — she said to him. — Let’s go. I don’t want you hanging out with that woman.

Protesting with his eyes, Henry looked at Emma knowingly before being dragged away. She knew what was in his head. Go find him, he was saying to her.

An hour more into their walk, Snow slowed her pace, then stopped the Prince with a hand on his arm.

— Okay, — she said, peering toward the bridge. — We’re here. We gotta be careful.

— Careful of trolls? — he said. — Are you joking?

— Have you ever met a troll?

The Prince looked back at her.

— So we gotta be careful, — she repeated, and then led him out to the old stone bridge.

She hated trolls, but they weren’t the worst business partners. They always had gold and always seemed willing to buy her stolen goods. Her heart beating a little faster than before, Snow steadied herself, took a breath, and together she and Charming walked out to the middle of the bridge.

Seeing her looking at him, he smiled at her.

She found herself a bit disarmed by it, actually.

— What? — she said.

— What now? — he said, going to the edge, looking down. — Do we make troll noises?

— No, — she said, reaching for her purse. — We knock on their door.

She stepped across the mossy stone and set a half-dozen gold coins on the ledge of the bridge.

— Step back, — she said, and the Prince obeyed.

They heard the scrabbling first. She had seen the trolls climbing the great support structure of the bridge, and she didn’t care to see it again. They were like spiders, only uglier. They lived down below, in what she imagined was squalor. She shivered, imagining it. God forbid she ever found herself down in such a place.

Charming, a querulous look on his face as they listened, said, — So are they…

The leader of the trolls was the first to burst up over the side. Lean, shambling, coated in moss and dirt, he pulled himself over the edge and straightened up, all eight feet of him. Snow touched Charming’s hand, which he’d moved to the hilt of his sword, and shook her head. He looked at her, and let it drop.

— Not very charismatic, are they? — Charming muttered.

— Who in God’s name is this? — boomed the head troll, pointing at Charming. He slowly craned his neck and looked at her. — And why are you back? Our business is done.

— I’m here to make a new trade, — she said evenly. — I want to buy back one item. The ring.

The lead troll frowned, grunted, looked toward one of his compatriots, who produced a small burlap sack, dug around, and pulled out a ring. He held it up, then dropped it back in the bag.

The head troll looked back at Snow White.

— I won’t do business with him here, — he said again. — I asked you once, I’ll ask again. WHO IS HE? — These last words exploded out of him, out of some pit of anger and torment. Snow didn’t let anything show on her face, but she was scared. Very scared.

— He’s no one, — she said. — Let’s do the deal. How about I give you all your money back and you just give me the ring. You can keep everything else.

He cocked his head, thought it through. Finally, after a long and skeptical look at Charming, he turned to one of his companions and nodded. The other troll again pulled out the sack fill I of jewels.

— Thank you, — said Charming, and Snow thought: No, do not thank him. But Charming didn’t catch her look of warning, and continued with his ridiculous manners: — We appreciate your help.

The head troll held up a hand, looking at Charming, telling the other troll to wait.

— Look at those hands, — sneered the head troll, pointing at Charming’s clean fingernails. He grinned devilishly. — Look at that well-fed posterior. This one is a royal. — The head troll snarled this last word, and Snow knew that the deal would not be going through — not with any civility, at least. All five trolls pulled their daggers.