[ text ] No more carols to sing

[radiopalkiller]

I. ACTION

[ Well, this is Wonderland. This, specifically, is Wonderland's beach, and, more specifically its ocean, which reaches up to Philip's knees. So much for a smooth landing, huh? He lets the icy water lap at his feet for a bit, because it makes a nice change from-- uh, hours? Days? Weeks? It makes a nice change from burning in hell, period.

He wades onto semi-dry land, eventually. So this was... what? An event? Another magical accident from the corner of unsupervised Storybrooke maniacs? Or, third. Christ, third. Neither the water nor the offensively picturesque snow landscape run down his back as coldly as that thought. That he might've actually gone home.

He lets that sink in, and sink down, until it doesn't paralyse him anymore. Then he takes out his phone, and heads back into the mansion. ]

[[ PRIVATE TEXT, TO EVELYN O'CONNELL ]] Hey, can you spare a second? Because I'm a bit weirded out, and not entirely sure what just happened to me. [ He waits. Gets impatient. Types the second part right away: ] Was I gone?

II. TEXT

[ First, he wants to pretend that the last few- days? did not just happen. Second, he picked up the words "sleep deprivation" and "other Wonderland", and still doesn't get the whole picture from the network. Which, all in all, leads to third, a controlled mess in the kitchen, and the following message: ]

Apparently I just blinked and missed Christmas, so I'm stooping to bakery to make up for it.

[ A helpful visual of some crunchy chocolate toffee squares with macadamia nuts comes attached. ]

First three batches ready for pick-up in the kitchen. Fourth batch in the works, I'll trade you for some good stories about the event I missed.

Comments

[radiopalkiller]

OVER Christmas? As in 'it is currently AFTER' Christmas? Jesus Christ, that's at least three weeks. What day is it?

[ ...Should he be glad or offended that her definition of not for too long is getting rather generous? ]

[nascensibility]

[Too long, in its current definition, is whatever borders on a month. It isn't that she's become more optimistic about chances when they stretch beyond two weeks, but Evelyn has grown tired of wallowing held onto a fragment of hope that Philip's disappearance - even with the death in his own world - would not be permanent.

Call her selfish.]

December 27th. What is the last thing that you remember?

[radiopalkiller]

December 7th.

[ 20 days. Bloody literal hell. --Actually: ]

It was just after an event, wasn't it? For a second I actually thought that was just part of it. [ That probably deserves clarification. ] Hang on, I don't want to write this down.

[ He rubs his temples, and worries that it won't come to him again. That both his voices are gonna fail here. But turns out that it still works, and that finding her - her - is easy, even after the interruption. ]

Jesus Christ, Evie, I haven't been back for years. I haven't got anything to get back to, it's not like--

[ Philip paces, in saltwater-dripping jeans. Just sticking to I'm fine and mutually agreeing that you don't mean it is so much more straightforward. ]

On second thought, too much detail. If you've got a minute, can we- just meet up? For a drink? And pretend this won't ever happen again, or better yet, that it never actually happened, and that I wasn't gone in the first place?

[nascensibility]

[Twenty days.

What is she supposed to say? No one notices after the first day or so, maybe two, particularly when people don't visit as often as they should anymore but Evelyn had some small hope that he would return if only because his rooms remained. And that is the better question, isn't it?

He can't remember what isn't there.]

Come to the bar. I'll have a bottle for you.

[She knows the kind he likes.]

[radiopalkiller]

[ There's that searing echo on his skin, that makes him want to shut up and keep his distance, right when he walks into the bar for an opportunity to do otherwise. Couldn't hurt to feel alive and real again though, and that's not even mentioning that he was the one who asked.

He walks up to Evie, and pulls her into a hug. ]

Good to be back.

[ He sits down near her, and knows that Wonderland is flooding back in when he wants to reach for a pack of cigarettes - which isn't there any more. Just as well, when do you ever get a chance to quit like that?

(He won't, but he'll fool himself for a day or two.) ]

Catch me up? Anything new with you?

[ He'll... probably get back to his own mess. In a bit. Probably. ]

[nascensibility]

Oh.

[It's a shaky little exclamation when she turns only to be pulled into an embrace, squeezing him tightly and smelling the underlying stain of cigarette smoke on his jacket - he could probably use one, if his habit is as strong as it was before he last left. Evelyn never thought she would miss the scent quite so much.]

No, no- I mean, yes, I suppose I was persuaded to start planning a party-

[It feels like weeks since she held the last one. Weeks, and it was over a year ago.]

-for New Year's Eve, but...the recent event was tiring, physically. Dreams of being another version of myself, it- it's not important. [A beat, and she looks at him intently.] Do you remember anything? From...

[You know.]