Beane Odette - Reawakened - A Once Upon A Time Tale

— I get it, — Emma said. — You’re Pinocchio. That explains all the lying. — She nodded. — You’re the one who added that new story to the book, aren’t you? — she said. — And actually, I see. You’re the one who replaced the whole book. After the first one was lost. — She shook her head. — You’re nuts, aren’t you?

— I needed you to know the truth.

— The truth is that you’re out of your mind. And you’re not even a good liar, August. Why not put an ending to the story?

— Because this? — he said, opening his arms. — This is the ending. We’re writing it. Right now. You and I.

— How does it end? — Emma said.

— With you believing me, — he said pleadingly.

Either that, Emma thought, or with this guy chopping off my head and burying me out here.

— It’s not going to happen, August, — she said, — so just drop it.

— Just — just trust me, — he said. He was getting frustrated, something Emma didn’t like to see. — Touch it. The proof that you need will reveal itself to you. Just touch it. How hard is that?

— Why are you doing this? — Emma said. — Why do you care so much that I see whatever truth it is you want me to see?

August nodded and looked down.

— Because I promised my father that I would protect you, — he said, — when we came through to the other side. — He took a breath and looked back at her. She was surprised to see tears in his eyes. — And I failed you I left you.

— What do you mean?

— I left you at the foster home, — he said. — I promised I would stay with you, and I left you.

Emma didn’t know why, she couldn’t explain it, but this made her tear up as well. She did everything she could to hold it in.

— I’m so sorry, Emma, — he said. — I–I ran away. I didn’t like it there. I was afraid. But I should have stayed with you.

Emma could think of nothing to say, and she instead looked at the hollow tree.

— Isn’t it worth just giving it a shot? Indulge me. Take a leap of faith. Touch the tree.

Emma looked again at the tree. It would be so simple. She kind of wanted it to be true. She did. More than anything.

She stepped toward the tree. After one last look at August, she reached out and touched it.

She closed her eyes.

She waited.

Nothing happened.

After a few seconds, Emma opened her eyes. August was eagerly awaiting a report.

— Do you see it? — he asked. — Do you remember?

Whatever he thinks, Emma realized, he’s not lying. He believes this. All of it.

— What did you see? — he asked.

— Nothing, — she said.

— That’s not possible, — he said, coming to the tree, touching it as well. — You were supposed to remember. You were supposed to believe.

She felt the weakness of all those emotions drain out of her, and her old steely self returned. Her gaze hardened. Her shoulders tightened.

— I don’t, — she said, turning away from the tree. She started walking back toward the diner. She had another thought, though, and turned back.

— You wanted me to get answers, — she said. — Well, I think I just did. I’m done, August. With you. With Storybrooke. With all of it.

He followed her; she could hear him struggling to keep up as he crashed through the bushes.

— Emma, wait, — he said. — You don’t understand. This isn’t how it was supposed to be…

His speech was interrupted by the sound of him falling, and Emma turned to look as he cried out. August lay on the ground, holding his leg in pain. He clenched his teeth and looked at her.

— What is wrong with your leg? — she asked flatly.

— I was supposed to be there for you, — he said. — I was supposed to be brave for you. I wasn’t. For that, I’m sorry.

— What in the hell are you talking about? — Emma asked. — Do you still think you’re my guardian Pinocchio?

He shook his head at her sarcasm, then leaned back against a tree trunk. He looked defeated. Thank God, Emma thought. Maybe now we can go.

— You don’t believe, — he said.

— If you think getting me to feel sorry for you now is going to change anything, you’re wrong.

— I’m not screwing around here. Whatever you believe or don’t — this is real, Emma. I’m sick. I’m dying. — He took a few breaths, and his eyes glazed over. — You ever been to Phuket?

— What does that have to do with anything? — Emma asked.

— Beautiful place, — he said. — An amazing island. The perfect place to lose yourself, you know? — He scratched at his beard. — That’s where I was… when. When you decided to stay in Storybrooke.

— How the hell did you know, or would you know, that I decided to stay there?

— Because at eight fifteen in the morning, I woke up to a shooting pain in my leg. That’s eight fifteen at night in Storybrooke. Does that time sound familiar?

Emma waited. She didn’t know where this was going but she was ready to not believe whatever he said.

— That’s when you decided to stay. When time started moving forward there again. I should have been there for you, but I wasn’t. And because I was halfway around the world, I got a painful reminder of how far I had strayed. — He got himself back up to his feet during this speech, and now he leaned down to the cuff of his pants. — If the tree won’t make you believe, Emma, maybe this will.

He pulled up the bottom of his trousers, showing Emma his hairy white shin.

— Are you still ready to deny it?

— All I see, — Emma said, — is your leg.

August looked down his eyes wide.

— You don’t see that? — he said loudly. — You don’t see that I’m turning back into wood?

It was confirmed. The man was crazy. And what did that make her? She was out here with him. She had reached for that tree, hoping to see something. Wanting to believe. But nothing good ever came from wanting to believe. All it meant was that you’d miss the truth.

— You just don’t want to believe it, — August said.

— That’s not true, — she said. — But either way, why is it so important to you that I do?

— Because the town — everyone — needs you, Emma. It’s your responsibility to save us.

— My responsibility? You’re telling me I’m responsible for everyone’s happiness? That’s crap. I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.

— Right now. Not so long ago, you didn’t want Henry. Then he came to you, and now you’re fighting like hell for him.

— For him, yes. Because that makes sense. He’s my son. And that’s all I can handle. I’m not even doing a good job of it. Now you want me to save everyone else?

August just stared back.

— Take me back, — she said. — I’m done.

It was dark by the time Emma returned to Storybrooke. She barely said good-bye to August when he dropped her off at her apartment, and after a moment’s consideration, she didn’t even go in to gather her things. She had her car, she had her keys, she had the clothes on her back. What else had she ever needed?

She drove the Bug to Regina’s mansion, parked on the street, and grabbed her walkie-talkie from the glove compartment.

— Code Red, — she said quietly. She took a breath and said it again, this time louder: — Code Red, Henry.

— Emma! — he cried. — What’s wrong?

The light was on in his room, and she smiled up at it, imagining him in his bed, excited to imagine another step in the plan unfolding. This would be hard.

— I need to talk to you, — she said. — I’m outside.

A second passed, and she saw his face in the window.

— It’s about you and me, — she said. — Can you come down?