behindcloseddoors | andres ♔ sometimes we don't learn from our mistakes

[ Watching them vanish into the shack means that Emma can at least rest assured that she'll be able to corner them. She slows to a jog in the clearing, weapon at the ready, moving around the shack to try and check for exits. Get an idea of what she's really dealing with here. While she checks it out, she peeks through windows to try and get an idea if she's walking into an ambush (spot 19, listen 14) but she's in a hurry. ]

[ she just barely catches a glimpse of movement inside, someone darting from one room to another on the opposite side. but other than that, it looks totally empty. ]

[ Ok good to know. She moves back around the front, lowering her gun in one hand and pulling the door open. Sliding in a narrow crack, she brings her gun up at the ready, trying to get a look at where the hooded wonder has slunk off to (spot 28). ]

[The contents of the shack are incredibly sparse, and what is there happens to be noticeably singed. Emma would catch a glimpse of the figure turning to the left, down a very small hall to the left and out of view. There's the sound of a door closing soon after.]

Hey! Don't move!

[ Shutting the door behind her (as if that will somehow keep her from getting surrounded by idk cohorts ?? who can't open doors ?? ?), Emma darts down the hall, following the hooded figure around the corner and trying to figure out which door they took.

But she crit failed her wis check so she'll just

try every door. ]

[it's a small shack, so there's really only two doors to try before she finds one that's locked. and strangely, it's got the newest looking knob out of all of them. inside, there's some hurried, rustling noises.]

[ Oh cool she's totally got something for this.

They're called lock picks. In case you were expecting magic. (Disable device 19.) ]

[back turned to the door, the hooded figure is crouched, moving some random belongings until he seems to find what he's looking for and stills.

half turning, his face remains obscured before he speaks gruffly:]

You need to get out of here.

Yeah, that's the plan.

[ Emma pulls her gun up, gesturing to the crouched figure with the barrel. ]

You're coming with me. Hood off. We've got some questions, and I have a feeling you're the only one who can answer them.

[ ♬ i'm a mess - ed sheeran

slowly, he stands and pulls back the hood, back still mostly facing her. he holds one hand up to keep her from shooting, but the other is pulled tight against his chest, holding onto something wrapped in a dirty sheet.

he finally turns and lets out a long exhale, bringing his eyes up to meet hers before he speaks:]

Edited 2015-01-12 02:53 (UTC)

You don't know the half of it.

[ It's only through great power of will (16) and knight training (ref 23) that she keeps hold of her gun at all. Everything in Emma's expression shifts, steady, firm resolve turning to floundering dread. One foot shifts back a single step, but her heel only nudges the door shut behind her. Whipping her head around, she glances at it, a brief panic even though it's obvious she'd done it herself.

Words fail her as she looks back up at him, and she keeps the gun leveled between them as some kind of barrier to keep her being as vulnerable as she feels, seeing him for the first time in— in— ]

Neal?!

[ More than a decade disappears in a heartbeat. ]

Emma. [At first, all he can manage is her name. It's been awhile for him, a long time to be alone on this island. But it's clear that he remembers her, that he would recognize her anywhere.

He takes a half step forward, his free hand still raised.]

Just... put the gun away. Let me explain.

I'm not explaining anything. You're the one who—

[ She actually shakes the gun firmer, stepping forward. ]

What the hell are you doing here?! Where'd he go?

[ Leaning to the side, she tries to glance around him, look for another access point—a door, a window, anything. ]

[There's a window but it's high and small and still closed and intact. Neal's eyebrows knit together in confusion.]

Where did who go? Emma, it's just me. And I can explain everything if you just-

[Something in me knows he won't be able to finish that thought.]

Don't lie to me!

[ Quickly, distress turns to anger and outrage, and that outrage gives way to what can only be described as disgust. Even now. After everything, ten years later, he's still lying. She doesn't know who he's protecting or why, but she does know that he's always willing to throw someone else under the bus before himself.

Maybe this time, it can work in her favor. ]

The sorcerer, Neal. The one who killed those people. Where is he?

[His eyes drop to the floor and he shakes his head. The hand he was holding up t show he didn't have a weapon drops to his side.

It wasn't exactly true anyway, was it? ]

You have to believe that I didn't mean to do it, Emma. You know that don't you?

[His voice is hushed, pleading, and he can barely manage to look at her now.]

… You?

[ Slowly, voice breaking, Emma tenses up as her eyebrows steadily arch up on her forehead. Disbelief fractures the facade of anger she clings to, and her features fall back on that safe (???) sense of dread. Her gaze drops to the object in his hands, folded up in linen, trying to find some solution that isn't he hid this too. ]

You have magic? [ No jk here comes the fury. ] You're the one who's been attacking those people?

I didn't mean to hurt anyone. [His voice is shaking, and his hands are too now as he reaches for the wrapped object he's still holding close to his chest. Slowly, he pulls back the fabric and holds it out for her to see.

The Dark One dagger, still inscribed with his father's name.]

I was keeping it away from him, keeping it safe but something must have-- I don't know how it happened. It must have infected me with its magic somehow. At first it was small, but the last few weeks it's been harder to control. I woke up in the middle of the night and my house was on fire. I tried to stay out here, to keep anyone else from getting hurt, but...

[Again, he looks at her, pleading.]

Emma, please... Tell me you know this isn't me. I didn't want any of this to happen.

[diplomacy 40]

[ With a will save of 23, it's pretty clear that she has no ability to trust herself with Neal anymore. Even though the rational part of her mind believes him, sees all the sense in the story, even thinks it's true, she doesn't trust herself with him. He'd fooled her once before, manipulated her, used her. So as much reason as she hears in it, she doesn't relent. ]

How the hell would I know if it was you? I don't even know who you are.

[ Ice cold, because she doesn't know the real him. Not the one who'd sent her to prison. Who left her, twisted her into someone to take the fall for him. She meant nothing to him. Nothing. And now, more than a decade later, he just shows up, and—

Slowly, she lowers her gun. Her shoulders heave with the weight of each breath, her eyes finally breaking away from his face. They search the floor absently, obviously an outcome of her own distracting thoughts and not actually watching the room. She seems to be settling on something. ]

[With the weapon lowered, he feels confident in his ability to step closer to her without getting shot. There's still a healthy amount of distance between them, but one look at his face and it's so obvious that doesn't want to leave any distance at all.]

That's the Veil. Emma, you know me. We've been... here before. Not exactly this and definitely not with me under the hold of dark magic, but you found me. You and Henry.

[And his father but he won't bother mentioning that.]

You brought me back to Storybrooke.

[ In her gut, she knows it's true (sense motive 41).

There's no flinch, no twitch, no avoiding her gaze, no riveted, forceful stare to decry an avoidance of those tells. All she can find in his expression is sympathy, regret, and anguish.

It makes her heart leap into her throat. For years, it was everything she'd wanted. Honesty. A family. Home, with Neal. She'd waited for two years in Tallahassee, holding out hope for that ideal. That it'd all be a terrible mistake, and he'd come find her. That he'd explain how it was necessary to lose the heat, that he'd always planned to come back to her. That he was sorry.

Now, here he is. Telling her that she could have all those things—not just could, did have all of those things with him. That she and him and Henry were a family together, home in Storybrooke. That she had it all and the Veil took it away.

And she can't let herself believe it. The very worst kind of denial bubbles out of the poisoned well he left, and turns her on him. ]

You're lying.

[ All she can do is assume that he is because she didn't catch him before. She never saw it coming before, never believed he was anything but honest, that he did anything but love her until it was too late. It was years before she could even really accept the truth: that it had never been real. That he'd never loved her.

He can't be, of course. He couldn't possibly be lying and know Henry. Have the details of Henry and Storybrooke and all of it. But she can't think about that right now. Seeing him, knowing what he's done, the whole of it dizzies her. A feverish feeling makes her legs weak, and she takes one staggered step back to account for the move forward he'd made. It bumps her back into the door the rest of the way, back against the wood.

She can't let him do it to her again. ]

I'm not. [He says, practically pleading in his tone alone. How may times has he thought about this, thought about seeing her again and trying to have this conversation not blow up in his face.

Unfortunately, as the months wore on and the magic took hold, he saw that chance to make it right slipping through his fingers.

But Andres isn't exactly the best place to conduct a search to see if someone also fell through the Veil- especially not in the Shadowkind slums he had been hiding out in. Priority number one was the dagger, to make sure that if his father was here (and Neal was sure that he was), that he never saw that dagger.]

You want to know the last thing I remember before I woke up here? You told me you loved me. And I'll never forget it because I didn't expect to hear you ever say it again.

[And right after that he fell through that portal and through the Veil as well.]

I know that I hurt you. And I can't make that go away right now. But I also know that part of you knows me better than you think you do. And you know that I wouldn't do any of this if I could have avoided it.

[ No.

No, she doesn't want to hear it. Can't hear it. Won't listen to it. Neal's words stab through her and reach through the hardened, stony walls she's built of herself and pierces into the vulnerable, scared, broken child that she has been trying to protect for so long.

She loved him. Of course she loved him. She'll always love him, and she hates it because he left her and he hurt her. And even now, telling her all about it, about this second chance of theirs, he tells her about how much she loves him. No apology, no acknowledgment of his feelings, nothing. That uncertainty leaves her frozen, suffocating on the news, blindsided.

This time, she won't let herself do it. Won't fall prey to the little girl that needs to feel loved and wanted. Who needs to understand why he did it. When Emma reaches out to him, her palm is open, faced towards the ceiling. Demanding. ]

Give me the dagger, Neal.

[He didn't really get the impression his feelings on the subject really mattered. Not enough to be vocalized anyway. He hesitates, but not out of some addiction to the blade.]

It's dangerous, Emma. Something about this place... [But he knows it's not safe with him anymore. Whatever it's done to him is only going to get worse with each day he keeps it close by. So he places it in her palm. As he pulls his hand back, he finally manages to ask the question he's been too scared to.]

Is he here? My father... Did he come with you?

[Neal has no confirmation, but there were plenty of whispers of Gold's hellfire during the battle. Neal knows that wasn't him. And so he assumes his father is somewhere on the island. It's been part of what has made it so hard to control the magic that's twisted inside of him.]

andres ♔ sometimes we don't learn from our mistakes

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