𝙁𝙪𝙜𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 [𝙋𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙋𝙖𝙣]

②:①①

August
Present day
Storybrooke

As I clung onto Alec he rubbed my back to calm me down.

I wasn't crying, but I felt numb.

I was breathing heavy and could feel my legs giving up with each step I took.

Alec set me down into the passenger seat of the car then shut the door carefully.

He then walked over to the driver's side and hopped in. He turned to me and said, "let's go home."

It was silent for most of the ride.

Once we pulled up to the house, I quickly got out of the car and walked to the bathroom.

I dive to the toilet, feeling like I may throw up my guts...but nothing happens.

I slowly get up and walk to the mirror above the sink. Staring at myself, I see small drops of blood start to drip from my nose.

In a dazed and confused state, I watch it fall into the sink.

A sudden force turns me around. I am face to face with Alec. He is saying something, but I can't quite make out what he's saying.

"Brooklyn!"

"Huh."

He handed me tissues from the counter, "Here."

I took them and held them to my nose. Alec was looking at me like I was crazy.

He took the tissue from my nose to check if it was still bleeding. He threw them in the garbage and grabbed my forearm. He led me into the living room and sat me on the couch.

"Are you ok?"

"Does the name Dark One mean anything to you?" I ask, staring at him.

He kept quiet for a minute, "You need sleep."

"Just answer the question."

"No. That sounds crazy."

I nod as he sighs. He pulls me onto his shoulder. I slowly feel myself slipping into a deep sleep.

☾♥︎☽

It was about 9:30 in the morning when I awoke on the couch. Alec was passed out next to me, soft snoring left his mouth every now and again.

I smiled at the man and got up. I grabbed my coat, threw on a pair of shoes, and walked outside. I needed some fresh air.

And besides, it would raise suspicion if I decided not to leave my house after Gold's break-in.

I decided to walk to Granny's to see if they were open. I could use some food.

As I approached the small diner I saw a black motorcycle sitting outside on the curb. To say it was weird was an understatement.

"Who the hell drives a motorcycle in Maine?" I said out loud as I approached the vehicle.

"That would be me."

I turned to my right to see a man around Emma's age waddle up to me with a wooden chest.

"Well you're new," I smile as I turn my entire body toward him.

He smiled as he set down the chest on the back of his motorcycle with a grunt, "I'm August."

"Brooklyn."

There was an awkward silence where we were both trying to read each other.

He spoke up. "So, does this diner have good food?"

"'Good food?'" I scoff, "it's the best food in Storybrooke."

"I take it that you're going in now?" He asks.

I nod and smile.

"Don't mean to sound like a creep, but mind if I join you?" He asked as he leaned against his motorcycle.

"Not at all." I say.

He smiles as he thanks me and we begin walking up to the doors of the diner.

As we climb the stairs I notice that he has a wooden leg. This man was quite a mystery.