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kepthimhuman“Broken.” A single word on the back of a postcard (delivered by a bird instead of the post office, what the hell, August), but yet it had meant so much to him. It was what he had been waiting for for years, and yet it had to come now, at this point in his life, when he’s no longer waiting for a time when he can try and somehow make it all up to Emma. She made it to where she was supposed to be, and obviously August is there too. He had wanted to know this, but he’s got a different life now, and he’s sure she must have moved on years ago, after what he did. August doesn’t know this, of course, or why this news doesn’t mean as much to him anymore, but he had still done as he had promised to do.
Neal doesn’t even know why he decided to come here. All that’s in this town for him is the woman whose heart he broke, and the father who broke his. The one probably doesn’t want to see him, and he’s spent years trying to hide from the other. The one advantage he has here is that he will know who his father is (if not where, specifically, in town), but his father likely won’t know who he is. All he has brought with him in his borrowed car is enough clothes to last him a week and the postcard. He checked the maps; there's no town called Storybrooke on any of them. He figures he might need the postcard to direct him to where he wants to go.
It's late when he finally makes it to his destination, so late that he doesn't expect to find anywhere open. Which he doesn't, except for the main office of the local hotel, where he finds a room and confirmation that outsiders are extremely rare.
In the morning, he prefers not to call attention to himself, at least not right away, so decides to go for a walk through the downtown area to see what he can figure out about this town. Maybe at least he can find some clues as to what his father's been up to, or Emma.
Neal doesn’t even know why he decided to come here. All that’s in this town for him is the woman whose heart he broke, and the father who broke his. The one probably doesn’t want to see him, and he’s spent years trying to hide from the other. The one advantage he has here is that he will know who his father is (if not where, specifically, in town), but his father likely won’t know who he is. All he has brought with him in his borrowed car is enough clothes to last him a week and the postcard. He checked the maps; there's no town called Storybrooke on any of them. He figures he might need the postcard to direct him to where he wants to go.
It's late when he finally makes it to his destination, so late that he doesn't expect to find anywhere open. Which he doesn't, except for the main office of the local hotel, where he finds a room and confirmation that outsiders are extremely rare.
In the morning, he prefers not to call attention to himself, at least not right away, so decides to go for a walk through the downtown area to see what he can figure out about this town. Maybe at least he can find some clues as to what his father's been up to, or Emma.
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Date: 2016-08-15 02:27 am (UTC)The town looked ravaged thanks to the less than scrupulous targeting of the Wraith as it searched for Regina. Gold's shop, at least on the inside, was no different, but through no fault but his own. Rumpelstiltskin didn't take the news that the line was cursed so well as he should have, and how could he? He was so close to his goal and yet another obstacle. It wasn't even that he was an impatient man; it had been hundreds of years, but the end was so near, so much nearer than it had ever been.
He had broken glass to sweep up and display cases to repair. Even if nobody came in to buy, it was his, that shop. Its contents, also his, or at the very least his to look after.
Such was the case that he wasn't even thinking of looking around himself so much as he unlocked the storefront. He wouldn't have thought to look for strangers, knowing the barrier was up -- even if there was no reason to think nobody could come through. His magic was back, but the sight was strange. Or simply not as strong -- it wasn't his magic to begin with, and perhaps the curse had weakened it. Perhaps, as magic was different here, it couldn't be quite as certain. He didn't know.
Whatever the case, he didn't see the stranger walking nearby. He shut the door behind him, not bothering to flip over the OPEN sign, and sought a broom to begin sweeping. Harder to do with need of a cane, but it didn't strain him much to stand in one place, especially with a counter to lean on if need be. He was sorely tempted to test a spell, but he stopped himself. Done without, fixed without, for the most part. It would give his hands something to do while he thought out his predicament.
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Date: 2016-08-16 03:59 am (UTC)He comes to a stop outside the pawn shop. He can see the owner inside, sweeping up, and he stays on the sidewalk, watching, for a few moments. His father. It seems strangely appropriate that he would own a pawn shop. He suspects the others in town would feel differently about his father's business model than his father would.
This is the moment he's been running from for so long, and he's not sure that even now he's ready for it to happen. He just wishes he could get some sense of which of the men it is he's watching, Rumpelstiltskin his father, the one he misses every day, or the Dark One who let his hand go. The one he can't forgive yet.