. . . . . ╰──╮✰ ✰ ✰ ╭──╯ . . . . .

‎‧₊˚✧ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ✧˚₊‧

‎‧₊˚✧ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ✧˚₊‧

______

"Some People Say Love Is A Losing Game

You Start With Fire And You Lose The Flame

The Ashes Smolder But The Warmth's Soon Gone

You End Up Cold And Lonely On Your Own."

______

The doorbell rang early that morning. Angie, who hadn't slept well that night, was the only one up. Because of this, she was forced to get off the couch and open the door. Whoever was on the other side of the door better have a really good reason for waking her up. She unbolted the door and swung it inwards.

At first, she was confused, as there was no one there. She rubbed her tired eyes and peered down the hallway. She didn't see anyone. Great. She'd been ding-dong ditched. Finally, she let her eyes lower to the ground, where there was a vase of colored flowers. Okay...maybe she overreacted when she thought she'd been ding-dong ditched.

Angie bent down and lifted up the flowers. A violet card fell out of the bouquet. She headed inside and placed the flowers on the counter before heading back to retrieve the card. There was no envelope, so she was able to read the card right away. She didn't have to read much to learn that it was for Mary Margaret. She smiled and leaned the card against the vase. She then plopped back down on the couch and turned on Jeopardy.

About ten minutes later, Mary Margaret emerged from her room. She noticed the flowers almost instantly. "Who are those for?"

"You," Angie said before taking a sip of coffee.

Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"That's what the card said."

"You read the card?!"

"Relax, May," Angie said, putting down her coffee. "It was already open and I only read the first line. I just wanted to know which of my brilliant friends the flowers were for."

Mary Margaret opened the fridge to retrieve some milk. "They could have been for you."

Angie responded with a bitter laugh. "Yeah, right. No one will ever give me flowers, May. That's a fact we established the first day we started living together."

"But if you just gave it a chance-"

"May, I know pretty much everyone in this damn town. There's no one for me to give a chance to. I'll be alone. It's fine."

Emma then arrived in the room, noticing the flowers the second she entered. She had a very different reaction. "Really?" She then grabbed the flowers and dumped them into the trash.

Mary Margaret got very confused very fast. "Oh. Hey. Wait, what are you doing?"

"If Graham thinks flowers will work on me-"

"No, those were mine," Mary Margaret clarified.

"Why would they be from Graham?" Angie questioned.

"Well he kissed me last night-"

"HE KISSED YOU?"

"Yeah," Emma said with a sigh. "I think he was drunk though. And those are for Mary Margaret, I guess."

"From David," Angie said, taking another sip of coffee.

"No," Mary Margaret said to her surprise. "Dr. Whale."

Angie was the one confused now. "Why would Dr. Whale-" Then she realized. "Are you serious?"

"I know, it's a disaster," Mary Margaret admitted.

Emma saw the situation very differently. "No. That's amazing. You're getting over David."

Mary Margaret shook her head. "First of all, there's nothing to get over. And second of all: just a one-night-stand."

Emma poured herself some coffee from the pot. "Not according to those flowers."

"Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have called him," Mary Margaret said sheepishly.

Angie almost spit out her coffee. "Oh my God. You called him? May, honey. I love you, but that's definitely not a one-night stand."

"O-Okay, I'm still learning," Mary Margaret's innocent soul replied. "I-I never had one before. I felt guilty."

"Why?" Emma asked. "There's nothing wrong with what you did. Trust me. One nighters is as far as I ever go."

"That's because you're-" Mary Margaret cut herself off.

"Because I'm what?'

"Never mind."

Emma was not having it. "Yeah. Tell me. What do I do?"

"You're just protecting yourself. With that wall you put up."

Emma didn't seem to agree with Mary Margaret's insight. "Just because I don't get emotional with a man-"

Angie chuckled. "You don't get emotional with a man? The floral abuse tells a different story."

Emma started to sound just a little annoyed. "What story is that?"

"The one that's obvious to everyone-except apparently you," Mary Margaret said with a smile. "That you have feelings for Graham."

"Come on," Emma complained.

Angie pointed at Emma. "There's the wall."

"That's not a wall."

Mary Margaret started to pick the flowers out of the garbage bin. She retrieved a new vase before responding. "Really?"

Emma shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with being cautious."

"Oh, true. True. But, Emma. That wall of yours, it may keep out pain. But it also may keep out love."

—

Angie pulled a few darts off of the station dart board. Graham liked to throw darts at the board for some reason. Maybe he found it calming. She stepped on the tile line that Graham usually stepped on and aimed her next dart.

"Ten bucks you can't make it," Graham called from the door.

Angie only nodded in response. She closed one of her eyes, ensuring that the dart was perfectly lined up. Then, she let it loose. The dart hit its mark. Bullseye.

Angie turned back to Graham. "Pay up."

Graham fished two fives out of his pocket and tossed them to Angie. Then he spoke. "Can I talk to you?"

Angie sat down on her desk. "Of course. What's wrong?"

"I think we...I think we know each other."

Angie chuckled. "Of course we do."

"No, no, no. Not from here," Graham said. "Not from Storybrooke."

This statement made Angie a little confused. "From where then?"

"Another life."

Angie would have laughed, but Graham looked dead serious. He then sat down on a desk across from her. "How long have we known each other?"

Angie thought about it. "I'm not sure exactly. A few years at least."

"Do you remember when we met?"

Angie took a second to think about it again. "No."

"Me neither. I can't remember when I met you or anyone, except Emma. Isn't that odd?"

"Graham, I'm not the best person to ask. My memory sucks. Memories fade over time."

Graham startled her with his next question. "Do you believe in other lives?"

"Like heaven? Hell? The Underworld?"

"No, like past lives."

Angie didn't. There was this theory that was floating around that some people had a past life as an angel or a demon and were sent to Earth as a child in order to punish them. However, she had a feeling that wasn't what he was talking about. Then, she came to a realization. "Oh, you've been talking to Henry."

"Henry?"

"He has this book of stories. He has been going on about how he thinks we are all characters from them. From another land. We've forgotten who we really are. Which, of course, makes no sense."

"Right. Not at all."

Graham still looked skeptical. Angie noticed that he was sweating. Concerned, Angie placed the back of her hand on his forehead. "Graham, you're burning up. Go home and get some sleep."

Graham stood. "Yeah, thank you. I'll do that. Thanks for the help."

–

Angie stayed up late that night in the sheriff station to do some paperwork. She planned to check on Graham within the next hour, as his behavior from earlier had worried her. However, that task soon became redundant as Graham walked in with Emma, whose forehead was bleeding. Angie shoved her paperwork off to the side and went over to Emma. "Emma, what happened?"

"She punched Regina in a graveyard," Graham told her.

"Nice," Angie said, holding her hand up for a high five. Emma returned it, wincing.

"Yeah, it was nice until she punched me back."

Angie retrieved the first aid kit. "Why were you in a graveyard?"

"We were following a wolf," Graham replied.

Angie laughed. "Where? On Wall Street?" No one else laughed. Angie had thought it was a pretty good joke. Graham looked as serious as he had been earlier. Angie looked to Emma for answers.

Emma shrugged. "There was a wolf. It was kind of creepy. We followed it to the graveyard. Regina punched me. I punched her back."

"Ah."

"Ah, good? Or ah, bad?" Graham asked.

"Just ah. I think I'll do the paperwork in the other room." Angie gathered up the paperwork and headed into Graham's office. She couldn't see Emma's face, but she had a feeling that she was thankful. Even though she tried to deny it, Angie could tell that she felt strongly for Graham. Giving the two a moment alone was the least she could do to help Emma's cause.

Angie should have never left.

About five minutes after she left the room, Angie was filing the paperwork she had just finished when she heard Emma scream. The scream was followed by a desperate "ANGIE!!"

Angie jogged as fast as she could back down the hallway. Why was Graham's office so far away from the cell room? She turned the corner to see Emma leaning over Graham, who was unconscious on the ground. Angie dashed over and bent down next to Emma. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know," Emma sobbed. She climbed onto Graham's chest and started chest compressions while Angie retrieved the first aid kit from the table. "He was normal a few seconds ago. He was cleaning my wounds and then he rambled about remembering something. He was thanking me when he dropped. C'mon Graham. Please wake up. Please!"

Angie started to question Emma as she pressed her hand against Graham's forehead, which was cold and clammy, unlike earlier. "Just dropped? No seizure or anything?"

"No."

Angie pressed her fingers against Graham's neck, wanting to count his heartbeats. Not feeling anything, she moved her hand to a slightly different spot on his neck. Still, she felt no pulse. "Emma, move."

Emma moved out of the way as Angie pressed her ear against Graham's heart. The organ had gone radio silent. Angie came to a devastating resolution, one that would change everything. "Emma?"

"What? Do you know what happened? Can we fix him?"

Angie didn't want to but she shook her head. "Emma. His heart isn't beating. It's over."

"No," Emma said instantly. "He can't be. He-h-he." Emma resumed chest compressions. Angie wiped some loose tears away from her cheek before wrapping her arms around Emma's waist, peeling her off Graham. Angie had never seen Emma like this. All Angie could do was hold her friend as she looked at the corpse that used to be Graham.