002: late night text.

[sheriffing]

I'll be honest, I don't know how all of you are living here.
Not existing, I don't need an explanation for that. I just...

[She's trapped by a future that hasn't happened yet. Hook doesn't have to tell her she's gone dark for her to know he was thrown by the fact that she wasn't. If there's going to be a fight, she's going to lose. In his future, she's the Dark One.

And to have it not happen just because she's here, when she doesn't know why, or for how long, or what this place wants out of her is maddening.]

I feel like I'm waiting for someone to flip the switch and send me back to my life. And I don't know whether to want that because it's mine or to want this because it could always be worse.

[She could be the person Hook thought she was. And eventually, she will be.]

Comments

[sheriffing]

So that's what you are, a fable?

[She helps herself to the cream, glancing back up at Snow as she continues her explanation. Not driven out by the Evil Queen hints that she's aware of how the people of Storybrooke were forced from the Enchanted Forest through the curse.]

What about a storybook? Is that a thing where you're from, too?

[She can't help thinking of the blanks they found. All of those were meant to be filled with stories, so why not the one this woman is describing to her?]

[onevice]

Yes. [ Capital F, there, Emma. Snow smiles politely, listening to the second question and then shaking her head. ]

No, not in the way that you do. Ours is... more a record of our stories in that it's our histories. Names and Fables that are still around and some others who aren't.

[ Those have died or been killed, mainly. ]