A Curse Upon Thee 2-19

"Interesting.” One long pale finger tapped itself thoughtfully, the digit landing over and over on the tip of a sharp chin as the imp purred out each and every syllable. “In-te-res-ting.”

Ruby Lucas stood by the hallway entrance of the sheriff’s office, arms crossed so tightly that her skin was protesting the half-moon bite of too-sharp nails through the fabric of her shirt. 

I shouldn’t even be here. That much was as true as she wanted it to be.

Really, the only thing keeping her in place was her own curiosity and while that may have killed the cat, the wolf was a lot tougher.

It had barely been a half-hour since she’d been standing out on Main Street, suffocating under the uncanny ever-annoying blue-eyed stare of Chad O’Donaghue and his one-hundred-and-one questions about the goings-on of Storybrooke. By the time the path of the afternoon wind had shifted from the blond boy’s crisp and expensive cologne to the heavy stench of grave dirt and the faint but familiar musk of a wolf’s fur, Ruby had almost lit up at the weird distraction.

Finally, something else to turn her attention to.

Her excitement had lasted all of a heartbeat.

Then she actually saw who the smell belonged to.

Graham.

It made no sense.

Not then.

And certainly not now.

Graham —the very same Sheriff Graham who had definitely, definitively, and undoubtedly been dead and buried for so many long months — stood across from her on the other end of the street.

As if it was just another day and he was going for an afternoon patrol, the man blinked her way half in a daze.

Ruby had scrambled forward, her body moving off instinct and panic as the sheriff’s clerk and occasional waitress reacted the only way she could.

She’d held the man tight by the sleeve of his denim and practically — literally — dragged the half-dazed and stumbling dead man directly to the one place she knew she could find, if not help, then guidance.

The sheriff’s station.

With a hastily made plan, she left Chad behind in the dust.

And, even then, the man still had questions.

Unfortunately, all Ruby had for him were muttered lies.

Terrible lies.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

“Graham?” Chad blinked her way, mouth half-open. “Like the old sheriff?”

“N-no? No!” She was already moving down the street, yelling behind her with Graham in one hand. “Grant. I said, Grant!”

“...Grant has two syllables, Ruby?”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

She couldn’t handle this on her own and she knew that.

So, she came to find David.

Graham sat nearly motionless in the chair behind the sheriff’s desk — his old desk —  looking almost exactly as he had the night he died. Although, Ruby could have sworn the guy was a bit taller and a good bit bulkier in the shoulders. Huh.

Either way, that broad chest was rising and falling as open eyes stared up at the water-stained ceiling.

Those eyes somehow managed to ignore the man looming over him like a vulture, one of Gold’s hands leaning on the silver handle of his cane as the other was held open and facing down. Sickly light pulsed from the pawnbroker’s open palm, washing over and into Graham’s body; the magic active for all five minutes since David had brought him in. “Undeniably interesting.” 

Across the room, a voice huffed. “What is so interesting, Gold?”

Ruby blinked over to stare at Regina Mills, the woman looking like a cornered panther. 

The former mayor stood exactly as still as Ruby was, almost frozen near a wall of gray filing cabinets. She was striking as ever, her neckline open as far as decency would allow to show a great deal of pale skin under dark fabric. Even still, under all that New England refinement, Ruby culd smell the sour spike of adrenaline rolling off her like a wall of thick morning fog.

Her eyes were almost unblinking, focused firmly on Graham.

And for good reason, considering she’d killed the man.

“Well, Regina, I’m truly not sure if your lovely eyes are still working properly, but if so…” The older man tilted his chin down. “Well, the fascinating answer is sitting right here in front of us all, no?”

“And this is… how?” David’s voice filled the room, volume halfway to shaking the windows. His boots squeaked loud as he paced in front of the twin cells in the room, sweat visibly beading over his forehead. One hand went to his forehead to wipe it, only for the new sheriff to change his mind halfway and rake that same hand through his thick blond hair. “How… How could this be happening?”

“Well, my king, there are more things in Heaven and Earth, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

“Stop.” David paused his pacing just to hiss the word.

Ruby wasn’t sure if the man meant the title or the quoting of Shakespeare but, either way, Gold tilted his head with just a smile. “As you wish.”

“I mean, how is this possible?” Deep blue eyes fixed firmly on Gold as he kept going. “Graham’s been dead for months. I saw the coroner’s report. You can’t just... walk off death when you’re already buried. Dan…” 

Those same blue eyes slid across the room over to Regina as the man caught himself. “The Revenant was one thing. That was Whale. But something like this…” 

“I do appreciate how we’re all speaking around me like I’m not a person.” Graham grunted the words out bluntly, the man’s gaze still fixed in a permanent staring contest with the ceiling. “It’s doing wonders for my renewed sense of self.”

“I…” David’s jaw worked silently as he took a breath. “S-sorry, Graham?”

“See, right there. Why say it like a question?” The dead man made a face, something to the side of an actual frown. “It’s like I don’t even have a name anymore.”

“No, no, you do have a name.” David shook his head quickly. “I’m sorry for speaking to… about you like that, Graham.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be.” Graham grunted again, the rough sound punctuating his words. “I’m more confused than you are, hard as that is to believe. Life and death is usually more cut-and-dry, isn’t it? Present parties excluded, of course.”

"Yeah, Gold." Ruby’s rasp tore into the room before her brain could even filter the words. More than half of her was already wishing for a full moon, something to give her all she needed to rip the imp’s throat out with her teeth. Unfortunately, they still needed him. "What the hell are we looking at here? Because unless you’ve got a buy-one-get-one-free special on resurrection, this makes exactly zero sense."

"I am not... entirely certain." The shopkeeper murmured, almost speaking the words more to himself than anyone else, as he cupped his chin. "But I suspect it has a great deal to do with the... change... in the air. The magic, as we all know, did not return to us clean."

As we all know. Ruby clenched both her fists at the words before she let them fall back to her sides. Like it isn’t your fault. With what Gold had done to break the curse — to bring the magic back — and how he had done it, it was no wonder that things were going wrong.

"Tell me, Mr. Humbert." Gold tilted his head down with another smile, light winking out as he lowered his glowing hand. "What is the very last thing you recall?”He leaned his weight fully onto his cane, dark eyes glittering as he looked down at the man in the chair. “At least before you found yourself wandering our charming little street today?

Ruby frowned. Humbert?

Graham shifted his weight, the wood creaking under him as his brown-eyed gaze dropped from the ceiling to land squarely on Regina’s paling face.

"Dying, for one.” He grunted low, the sound a punctuation mark. "With the feeling... that my heart was being crushed in my chest."

No one missed the flinch that came from Regina’s side of the room, the woman perfectly still even as her eyes closed for a moment. 

"Nothing to say, Regina?" Graham didn't raise his voice, the silence stretching in the office space. “To an old friend?”

"All I have to say…” Regina cleared her throat. “To you or anyone else is that we don’t even know who you are." She clicked her tongue, pulling her eyes off him to stare out the window as if she would find the answer there. "People... We already know that people don’t simply walk out of the grave, fully formed and healthy like nothing happened. It breaks the fundamental laws of magic.”

Graham raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“So, this is obviously an illusion. A trick.” She grit her teeth, the woman forcing her eyes back onto the face of the man she killed. “Someone — possibly whoever you really are — is playing a game with us."

“No offense, Graham, but she does have a point.” David stepped forward, broad shoulders squaring as he cast a glance between the seated Graham and the standing Gold. “This time, at least.”

“Honestly…” The no-longer-dead man sighed. “None taken, mate.”

“I often have many points, actually.”

"And again, not to say that I agree with Regina on this, but…” David shook his head, words coming louder as he bulldozed past the woman in question. “Look, dead men don't just wake up and walk out of caskets."

Gold smiled, something like a laugh leaving his half-open lips. "Mister and Madam Mayor speak the truth.”

“Gold.” The word left Regina’s mouth in a snarl.

“Slip of the tongue, dearie.” The pawnbroker’s gaze swept the room. “Ordinarily, the dead remain quite stubbornly dead and for good reason. Just imagine the nonsense they’d be up to with that revolving door open for them." 

That same gaze lowered down to the man seated in front of him. "But there is no doubt that this  is the real Graham. Every spell I have just cast tells me no different."

"Then he’s alive. He’s back.” David uncrossed his arms, strong brows pulling together as a hopeful momentum returned to his voice.

Ruby just stared at him, mouth half-open.

“Look, that’s what matters, isn't it?” David spread his hands out wide. “Let’s just be happy this happened. We can figure out the how later."

"Ah, ah, ah, before we break out the cake, candles and brandy, my magic is also telling me something else," Gold continued, expression spreading even further into something oily and triumphant. “Apparently, this Graham is twenty-nine years old. A fine young age, yes, but exactly as he was when he passed." 

“Okay…” Ruby bit down the bitter taste in her throat at even speaking to Gold. “But isn’t that what he’s supposed to be.”

“Of course, dearie.” Gold tilted his head, dark eyes dragging over everyone gathered. "It would be, yes… If said magic wasn’t also telling me that our recently-returned Graham is a bouncing baby boy no older than a single day."

Said baby’s brow furrowed. "What?"

"What are you even talking about, Gold?" David stiffened, voice as demanding as it was confused. “It… that makes no sense.”

“Exactly.” Regina hissed, gaze still firmly anywhere but Graham. "That’s a contradiction."

“Simple, children.” Another laugh spilled free from Gold; louder, breathier, and halfway to a cackle. "This is Graham. And yet…” No laugh left him this time, but the smile was sickening in how wide it spread on his face. “It is also not. He possesses the memories, the physical structure, the very soul signature of our dear departed sheriff."

Gold leaned in slightly, resting both hands on the silver handle of his cane, his eyes glittering with dark amusement. "But I have the distinct feeling that if we were to go grave-robbing this evening... we would find another Graham, nice and tidy in his burial clothes, resting six feet under."

The room plunged into absolute, suffocating silence.

Two Grahams. 

One rotting in a wooden box in the dirt, and one sitting in the chair, breathing the stale air of the sheriff's station. 

Ruby stared at the man in the denim jacket, throat suddenly dry. 

"...what the fuck."