A Curse Upon Thee 15 (Patreon)

I’m not drunk enough for this.

That much was true as anything could be, but Ruby Lucas also knew that she was also almost never drunk enough for anything.

Tonight was especially bad for that, though.

Bass thumped loud and proud, the Rabbit Hole’s speakers so powerful she could feel it in her chest. Literally, the thumping was so strong it was no different from a second sloppy heartbeat against her ribs. Good. 

There was no denying that she loved it.

The chaotic noise.

The too-dense crowd.

The sticky-sweet smell of spilled rum, cranberry vodka and the cheapest beer this place could swill from the tap. The way the colored lights turned everyone into a way better-looking, far more interesting stranger, and especially the way nobody in Storybrooke ever bothered asking for ID.

Rubly leaned against the scarred wood of the bar, her skirt hiked up just that little bit higher, deliberate enough to get the bartender’s attention, but nowhere near enough to make him think he had a chance.

“Three lemon drops, Billy, and make ’em hurt.” She flashed a bright sharp smile, glossy red lips around white teeth, the one that always worked. Her words came out a purr. "It's Valentine's Day, we're supposed to be making bad decisions."

He grinned back, face shiny with sweat as he reached for the bottles without even looking at them. already grabbing the bottles for her. See? Easy.

She turned around, elbows resting against the sticky edge of the bar as she took in her little team. And god, what a team they were.

A total depressing buzzkill brigade. 

Mary Margare was proving she was one hundred percent the friendly neighborhood schoolmarm everyone thought she was. Nursing a seltzer water — seltzer, at a bar — was doing that thing she had been recently. That sad, hopelessly hopeful, kicked-puppy thing where she stared at the door like her formerly sleeping beauty was just gonna walk in, throw his wife to the curb, and just ride off with her into the… parking lot, probably.

God knows no one ever left this town.

It was… pathetic. 

It was many things, honestly, but it was mostly just pathetic.

She loved her, of course. God, she loved Mary Margaret Blanchard like a big boring sister, but the loneliness radating off her recently was just sad.

And Ashley… 

Ashley was moping. Full-on, new-mom, world-is-ending, big-bags-under-her-eyes mope.

“I just… I miss him.” As rough and tired as her voice was, Ruby could almost believe that she had picked up smoking again. But no, it was just pure exhaustion bleeding off her, Ashley just picking at the peeling label on her beer bottle with a single nail. “And Alexandra’s got this rash on her…”

Jesus. Ruby cut her eyes away, taking in the wood beams of the ceiling. Love her, but can she not? “Ash, hon…” She dropped down after a moment to herself, the gravel in her voice scraping just beneath the music. “Tonight is about us, okay?”

“I know, but…”

No buts. It was Girl’s Night, for Pete’s sake. “No babies. No rashes. No… Sean.”

Mary Margaret gave her the look; all soft disappointed schoolteacher with big doe eyes too kind to glare. “Ruby, be nice. It’s hard for her, with the baby, and Sean working all these late night shifts, you know…”

“It’s hard for everyone.” She didn’t mean to snap. She didn’t want to snap, but she did it anyway and the bar music suddenly felt too loud in her ears. Or not loud enough. Definitely not loud enough to cover the bite in her voice. “Look… I get it, but this whole sleepy fuckin’ town is one big ‘it’s hard.’ That’s why we’re here tonight. That’s why we’re drinking.”

Billy slid the three little shot glasses across the wet wood, liquid sloshing over rims. "Ladies."

"Finally." Ruby snatched up hers, holding the tiny thing out like a weapon. "Okay. To... not being hard." She picked up a second shot, almost shoving it out into Mary Margaret’s open and sweating hand. "Now you’re gonna drink."

"Ruby..." Mary Margaret flinched back. “Ruby, I don’t really…”

"Drink!"

Before Mary Margaret could offer another soft attempt at a protest, the heavy front door of the bar swung open wide, a harsh gust of cold wet Storybrooke air cutting straight through all the body heat in the room. 

And in walked Sean.

The man was still in his gray jumpsuit, grease stained thick a whole several layers deep into the knees, looking dead on his feet and… scared?

Ruby blinked at him as Ashley turned around immediately, her face just crumpling. "Sean? What's wrong? Is it the bab-"

The man didn’t answer as he walked right up to their table, eyes locked on her as he ignored all the other eyes turned his way as half the bar went quiet. 

And then he dropped down on one knee right into a small puddle of beer.

The breath stopped in Ruby’s chest, her lungs freezing over almost as the man fumbled in his greasy pocket and pulled out a little black box. The hinge popped back and Ruby’s eyes went wider.

Ring.

A tiny little diamond glittering in the spinning bar lights.

"Oh.” Mary Margaret’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, her face white as snow. “Oh my.”

Ashley just stared, mouth open as it worked around words that weren’t there.

"Ashley Boyd…” His voice shook from where he knelt on the floor, almost cracking even as he spoke loud enough to cut through the thumping bass line. "You're... you're the best and most beautiful and strongest person I know. And I'm an idiot. And I love you more than anything. And I... will you...?"

Ruby just… stared. 

Holy. Shit.

He was doing it.

A real, actual thing.

Right here, in the middle of this dump. 

People at the surrounding tables were already turning to face them, phones coming out and pointed right at them. Ashley didn’t seem to care, her friend already full-on ugly crying heavy enough to shake her chest, nodding so hard her blonde hair whipped around her face.

"Yes! Yes, you idiot, yes!" The words came flying free as Ashley did the same, practically launching herself out of the chair and onto the beer-soaked floor with him. “So much yes.”

"Oh! My! God!” A high happy shriek ripped out of Ruby's throat, a reflex more than anything else as she grabbed Mary Margaret's arm, squeezing hard. “Ashley!"

It was… nice. It was… real.

A real tangible fairy-tale happening in a town where nothing ever ever happened. 

Ashley kissed him, and the bar actually broke out into loud applause. At the same time, Ruby couldn’t help the hot, sharp pang that hit her right in the chest. Wow. Okay. 

Ruby was happy for her friend. Totally. Totally thrilled.

But also… what about me? She pushed the bitter thought back down into a pit in her stomach, pasting the thrilled smile back onto her face as she whooped along with the crowd. You’re the party girl, Rubes. You don’t get the ring. You get the hangover.

The happy couple left in a little bubble of their own a few minutes later, all tears and shaky hands and whispered promises. And then it was just her and Mary Margaret, who now looked even sadder now than she had twenty minutes ago somehow, eyes glassy. Great. 

The noise of the bar grated against Ruby’s skull, colored lights managing to give her a brand-new headache. Throwing her head back, Ruby downed her Pink Whitney in one gulp, the cheap chemical fire sliding down her throat.

"Damn.” The glass slammed down on the bar hard enough to make it ring. "Good for her." She dragged her eyes over to Mary Margaret’s miserable-looking face, the words spilling out before she could filter them. "Makes me miss my... guy."

Is he my guy?

"Me too." Mary Margaret’s words were a whisper, the woman staring at the empty space where Sean had knelt. She looked so goddamn broken, just defeated by the universe that Ruby couldn't even be annoyed by it.

Right. This was a bust. "Well…" Ruby pushed off the bar, grabbing her jacket from the chair in front of her. "This has been pretty much a total buzzkill." She needed to stretch her legs, needed air that didn’t smell like regret.

Needed him.

He might not have been a fairy tale prince, and he might not be the one proposing to her — not that she wanted that — but he was still her guy. 

"I'm out."

Mary Margaret blinked, startled out of her moping. "Ruby, where are you going? It's..."

"Gotta go." She tossed the words over her shoulder as Mary Margaret spluttered behind her. 

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Her red Camaro’s headlights cut bright cones through the black Maine night as she drove it deeper into the woods.

Stay out of the woods, girl. 

Ugh. Ruby frowned at the sound of her grandmother’s voice, raspy sandpaper old-lady nagging almost a permanent fixture in her head. Nothing good out there, Ruby. 

But her foot pressed harder on the gas anyway, engine whining just a little bit as she pulled up the dirt path toward the old cannery. The building loomed tall like a rusted-out skeleton against the pale moon-sliver above her head. 

She killed the engine and shoved the door open, climbing out. Heeled boots crunched loud on the gravel, the silence thick and heavy otherwise as it pressed on her ears. Quiet = danger. Why was she here? 

She didn't know. Just... a pull. A deep irrational need that only made sense as long as she didn’t think about. An itch under her skin and deep in her bones that she didn’t have a name for, dragging her out into the woods this late at night.

For one reason only.

She saw him as soon as she turned around, red hair bright against the night like a splash of blood.

Standing by the edge of the rusted-out loading dock, not even looking over at the headlights of her car, her guy was ust staring at the trees, hands shoved in his pockets.

Finn turned around at the same moment Ruby let out a long low breath, blue eyes blinking her way. "Bee?" His voice came out rough, that weird little accent that somehow sounded like three different places at once. “How’d you even know I was out here?”

Good question. "Instinct, I guess." She shrugged, unsure what else to say. "Or maybe you just smell like a guy who hides in abandoned fish buildings."

“Sure.” Finn’s laugh was a short bark, the sound echoing off the metal siding of the cannery, but when it was over, he wasn’t smiling. Not really. "Why not?"

She walked up to the edge of the dock, closing the space as she neared the concrete. The air was cold, biting at her bare legs, but she could feel the heat rolling off him, his body thrumming even from a foot away.

"So, what are you doing out here?”

“...practicing.”

Ruby blinked. “Practicing what?”

“...” Finn worked his jaw, eyes flicking away before turning back her way.

“Is this about my present?"

He just looked at her for a second that stretched out far too long; no jokes and no smirk anywhere on his face. His blue eyes stared back at hers,  intense in the moonlight, like he was trying to figure something out.

He reached into his jeans pocket, slow and careful

And pulled out…

What?

Her breath caught.

"My wolf?"

Her wolf; the one she kept hanging on her rearview. The same exact one that she’d been bitching about for days just sat there as he held it out, red glass gleaming bright in the palm of her hand.

His first grin of the night filled his face, smug and clean like he hadn’t stolen it. "Surprise."

"You…" The word came out flat, but she wasn't... mad. The anger just wasn’t there. She was…

She wasn’t sure what she was right now, other than the slightest bit annoyed. Holy shit, he stole it. Just right out of her car, lifted it while she was giving him a ride. "You... felon." The word left her mouth half-laugh, half-accusation.

His laugh was real this time as he threw his head back to laugh with her. "Before you say anything..." He held up his free hand, palm facing her. "Just watch."

He crouched down in one smooth motion, setting the glass wolf on the cracked weed-choked concrete between them. He brought his hands together in a sharp smack that echoed in the quiet.

And he started talking. “Jūso no iki ni te utsuwa o mitasu—”

Not English. Not the Irish stuff he sometimes slipped into when he was a little tired. It was the other one; low, fast and rhythmic in a rolling chant. “Kage to garasu no hazama ni… tamashii o tsunagu.”

What... what the fuck... Her eyes widened as the air... shivered with something that wasn’t wind at all. “Waga na ni kotae, waga mei ni shitagae!”

It tasted like static, metallic and dry, like right before a lightning strike as he pointed a single finger at the concrete.

“Shikigami kengen—Kyōrō!”

The glass wolf… it… shuddered.

Her mouth fell open, a small disbelieving sound escaping her throat as it twitched again, a tiny glass leg scraping the concrete. 

It took a step, a stiff glassy step. 

Then another. 

And another until it wasn't just glass anymore. 

It was walking. A tiny, impossible red glass-wolf, body fluid and real as it trotted across the concrete, right over to her feet, and nudged the toe of her boot.

Ruby couldn't breathe, her heart hammering against her ribs. His magic.

She dragged her gaze up from the living lucky charm at her feet to look at Finn as he stood there in front of her. Hands shoved back in his pockets, he stood back up to his full height, a wide confident grin plastered across his face. The red-headed boy who shouldn't be real, who got hit by a car, who fights cops, steals her shit and then… makes it walk.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Bee."