5. HOUSE ON THE BEACH

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Amy's head was killing her.

And there was a sound, like someone was hitting something, that made her want to commit murder.

She tried to open her eyes, but her headache was stronger than her, forcing her to keep them closed. She brought her hands to her head, massaging her temples.

What the hell happened, she thought. All she remembered was that she and Emma were on the road back to Boston when suddenly there was a wolf in the road and-

Emma.

She forced her eyes open, squinting against the light coming from the windows. It took her a couple of seconds to adjust to the sudden brightness and when her eyes finally didn't feel like fire, she scanned her surroundings.

She was in a jail cell. Emma was sleeping, her head braced against Amy's shoulder. There was someone on the cell next to them, a man, whistling a familiar tune.

She followed them through the forest, her magic making it easier for her to find them.

She didn't know why Rumple thought it a good idea to watch them; they weren't important, they were simply Snow White's friends. Surely he didn't consider them a threat.

Nonetheless she did as she was told, lest he threw one of his tantrums, and she kept an eye on them for the next couple of weeks.

Nothing happened, though. They simply went to work and came back, all the while whistling that same, old tune.

"Hey, Amy," Emma's concerned voice broke through the memory, bringing her back. "Are you okay?"

Why does this keep happening and why is Emma the only one able to bring her back?

She nodded, too tired to speak.

She looked around. Apart from the one whistling on the next cell, there was another man fixing a cabinet, making that annoying sound.

She turned around slightly, catching the gaze of the person –was that Grumpy?– whistling. "What are you looking at, sister?"

Good to see he hadn't changed.

"Hey, Leroy, manners! We have guests." said the older man and his accented voice paired with the warmth of the memories it evoked in her mind was enough for her to identify him.

Gepetto...

A smile found its way on her lips, the terrible headache making space for memories of the man in front of her.

While she didn't particularly like his son, Gepetto was one of the few people from before that was actually nice to her despite her reputation.

"So..."he sounded unsure as he looked between the two women. "You're Henry's mother?"

Emma sighed, as she stood up, "I am, yeah."

Gepetto –or Marco, as the tag said– looked at Amy curiously.

"I'm her best friend."

"Ah," was his response.

Emma brought a hand to her head, no doubt having the same killer headache as Amy.

"How lovely for him to have you back in his life," he said to her friend.

"Actually, I was just dropping him off."

Grumpy, well, Leroy, laughed, "Don't blame ya. They're all brats; who needs them?"

Marco did not like that response and just by looking at his face Amy got the feeling a sad backstory was coming up.

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