Red

Chapter Twelve: Rumplestiltskin

I edged closer to Gran on my couch, still in my dress. Gran was in his suit as well, but he'd taken off his tie and jacket and his shirt was untucked. 

I rested my head on his shoulder. "I can't believe she's gone," I sighed, my voice barely a whisper. 

Gran tilted his head to look down at me. "We did all we could." 

"I swear, Gran, it was that werewolf. I know it. He looked so... shifty," I insisted. 

Gran sighed, perhaps because he'd been hearing this the whole car ride home. "But Merra, Rapunzel, and Rosie were killed by a girl," he pointed out. 

"So? Haven't you heard of drag? And werewolves have perfect faces- with a wig he could easily pull off looking like a girl. He's 5'10", I bet." 

"Well, the lab should have the DNA from the hair strand matched by tomorrow evening. We'll know then," Gran replied calmly. 

"Guys?" My head jerked up, staring at the intruder. It was Hansel, in Gran's old plaid pajama pants that were just long enough to drag on the floor, shafted in moonlight streaming in from the window. In this lighting I could believe he was part fae- he seemed ethereal, unearthly. "Why are you back so early?" 

"It's, like, one o'clock in the morning. Why are you awake?" 

Hansel shrugged. "I didn't think you'd be home 'til two, at least. I borrowed-" 

My eyes darted to the armoire where I kept my TV. The doors were closed, which I never did. I narrowed my eyes. "Did you move my TV?" 

Hansel didn't even look down or away. He glared at me right in the eyes. "Like I said, I didn't think you'd be back 'til two." 

"What the fu- why? Why would you-" 

"I'll move it back." Hansel trudged back into his room, rolling his eyes. 

"Listen, Red." Gran turned so he was facing me. "I think we should visit him tomorrow." 

I was still focused on the child with my TV.  "Who?" 

"You know- Him." 

The blood drained from my face. "You don't mean-" 

Gran nodded grimly. "Maybe he's heard something?" 

I exhaled slowly. "Fine. Fine, but let's get it over with quickly. I don't want to have to pay a babysitter to watch the kids." 

Hansel re-entered, precariously levitating my TV with his newfound magic. "I don't need a babysitter, Red." 

"You stole my TV, kid," I shot back. 

"I moved it ten feet away. Lord, teenagers are dramatic." 

"Hansel." 

Gran stood. "I'd better get going. Um, I'll pick you up tomorrow? Nine-thirty?" 

I stood too. "Sounds good." 

I wasn't sure exactly how to say goodbye, but I certainly wasn't about to kiss him with Hansel there, so we awkwardly hugged and he left. 

The next morning Gran was there at precisely nine-thirty. I'd left Hansel and Gretel alone after Hansel had sworn up and down he wouldn't touch the TV, magically or otherwise. 

Gran grinned. "Are you ready?" 

I slouched in my seat. "What do you think?" 

"He's not that bad," Gran began. 

"Don't. Don't even start," I warned. 

The idiot in question lived in an honest-to-goodness castle, which pissed me off to no end. Of course he lived in a castle. He was rumoured to be the head of the Stiltskin crime family and they were filthy rich.