The Story Thus Far

by ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers

Summary:

After nearly becoming dinner, Belle reevaluates her approach towards the MacAvoy Ives clan and decides if she can't beat them, she can at least try to understand them. As Joseph and Hannah open up to her, she realizes just how much lays beneath the surface of the chaotic triad.

AKA: A recap episode to catch Belle up a bit on Eden's Ark lore.

Chapter 1: Previously On

The sun set, and Belle’s courage faltered.

 

Not that broad daylight had deterred him, but it was easier to picture Francis as the shadows lengthened, his family settling down for the night while he watched and waited for his opportunity to strike again. Joseph and Hannah seemed confident that he wouldn't bother Belle… But neither of them were on the menu.

 

The pure rage aimed directly at her… Merely because he didn't get his way. It reminded her of Gaston, but unlike her ex-husband, she had given Francis a piece of her mind. If she was going out then she’d go out letting him know how much of a shitheel he was. And yet… All that anger, all that desire to kill her, all that power… Held back because of Joseph. It would have been trivial to pull him off, shove him away, snap her neck in the time it took for him to recover.

 

But he didn't.

 

There was something fascinating about Francis' almost folkloric logic; Belle had not called him a wendigo in the dungeon, so he had not hurt her. When she called him by his true name it meant all bets were off. He would not attack her so long as Joseph held onto her. Did his wendigo nature dictate such things, or his twisted serial killer code of conduct? She'd love to study him…from a distance…in a lab…with a full body of armor on and armed with a machine gun…

 

And Hannah… For all her venom and threats, she had chosen to stand by her. Perhaps for selfish reasons, but it was difficult to ascertain how serious the threat of surrogating was. Still on birth control and nowhere close to that level of intimacy with anyone, pregnancy had been the least of her concerns after Gaston's death. That would have to be a discussion between her and Hannah at some point; Belle wasn't going to trade a death sentence for life as a baby factory.

 

Joseph… What a side to him. The very epitome of Roosevelt’s quote about courage not being the absence of fear. He had stood his ground, shaking but rooted, and refused to back down. And they listened to him, as begrudgingly as it had been in Francis' case. Lai Lai had been right; he held the power over them.

 

So why had he not tried to stop them from eating people at all ? Or finding a more ethical way?

 

Belle finally admitted defeat after hours of searching and shaking a treat bag, picking up the phone to text Joseph.

 

Hey ☺️ I can't find Audrey 😥 He…wouldn't have done anything to her, right?

 

He answered immediately, Hey 😊 Helena brought her over here. We’d return her but there's a bit of a situation…

 

Belle puzzled over using Hannah's fake name before realizing of course he would; no digital evidence for the probationary member of the Secret Wendigo Society to potentially use against them.

 

He sent a video of Audrey looking completely at ease, curled up on a very confused Freddi. Grace petted Audrey gently, then tried to pick her up, only to be rebuked by a hiss. Grace squealed and pulled away, while Hannah tried to just pet the cranky crone. Audrey swatted at her for even that .

 

We shall persevere 😤, Joseph promised.

 

Don't worry about it ☺️ Just glad to see she's alright. I'm sure Grace is ecstatic she's sleeping over 🥰

 

Though the reason why Hannah had her cat sent a fresh chill down her spine. At least she knew Audrey would be fine should anything happen to her…

 

How are you doing?

 

She bit her lip, tempted to lie, but there was no way she could pull off one that egregious, Scared. I know you said not to worry but I can't help it.

 

Of course you can't. U need me to come over?

 

No, no, I’ll be alright. Maybe she should take a couple sleeping pills… But that only made her more concerned about if Francis did change his mind and she was incapacitated.

 

You will be, I promise 😊

 

She wished Joseph was here, wished they could talk until they both fell asleep. But his promise was enough for her to take the sleeping pills, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

 

…making it very difficult to get up the next morning. But she managed, forcing herself to treat it the same as any other day. As predicted, traffic wasn't as hectic as during Granny's closure, but a few had found comfort in her alternative breakfast venue. She checked her phone during a break in customers and saw Joseph had messaged her.

 

Taking over the shop again 🙄 D’ya mind bringing an order over, at your convenience of course?

 

Not at all ☺️ I’ll let you know.

 

You're the best 😊

 

A couple hours later she texted him and he texted back his order before adding a warning that he wasn't alone.

 

Well… They would just have to get used to each other, wouldn't they?

 

Belle flipped her “back in fifteen” sign over and slipped in next door with two teas. Joseph glanced at her but his guest was mid-rant, sitting on the counter display with her back to the entrance.

 

“And like I get it, I fucking get it, you're my baby daddy so I know all about your wholesome sex appeal. But you can't tell me none of those Stepfords are interested in a bad boy.”

 

“Hannah I don't think anyone is as interested as you think they are in your men,” Joseph insisted.

 

Hannah glanced over her shoulder, noticed Belle, then slid off the counter, “I’ll see you later, hon.”

 

“You don't have to go,” Belle protested, but Hannah was already slipping through the curtains towards the back, avoiding eye contact.

 

Joseph gave Belle a sad little smile, waiting for the back door to open and close, “She’ll be alright. I think she's just a little embarrassed about what came out yesterday.”

 

“About her plans to make me her surrogate?”

 

“I'm not sure they were even plans just…wishful thinking.”

 

She passed him his tea, hoping he was right, “So what had her riled up just now?”

 

Joseph smirked, “School drop-off. Apparently she feels the attraction ratio is drastically skewed in my favor when it comes to the mothers of Storybrooke and her husbands.”

 

“And they're discussing this right in front of her?”

 

He shook his head, “They probably thought they were out of range, would be out of range of a normal person. The pair of them could hear a damn flea sneeze on the other side of the house.”

 

“That must be difficult to deal with sometimes, being so sensitive,” Belle guessed, sipping at her drink.

 

“Yeah but the hearing and vision they can tune out and in, like radio stations?” He pantomimed turning dials, “It's smell that's the real challenge.” 

 

There was a brightness in his eyes, an eagerness to his tone, and Belle wondered how long he had wanted to share this with someone. It must be so lonely, to carry such a secret.

 

Belle smirked, “So what you're saying is I should’ve lobbed a perfume grenade at him yesterday?”

 

Joseph's hand went quickly to his nose as he almost shot tea out of it, “No… No that would have just pissed him off…” He cleared his throat and lowered his hand as the danger passed, “The…power… It compounds. Each new life… Makes them stronger… Hardier…”

 

“...how long have they…?”

 

Joseph took a long drink, “...Hannah's closing in on four decades and Francis… He turned in 1846.”

 

Lai Lai had mentioned they were immortal and unaging but still, to hear exactly how old they were, especially Francis… Over a century and a half… Belle might be an arrogant prick too if she got away with murder for that long.

 

“He…tried to find companionship, before Hannah…” Joseph murmured, “It just never worked out. Cannibal dating market’s brutal.”

 

His personality wasn't doing him any favors… But Belle couldn't deny the glimpses she had seen of a man who deeply cared about his family. The truth seemed far more complex than she first imagined, a lot less simple than, say, an abusive husband lording over his wife because he felt it was his right to. 

 

“What are you doing for lunch?”

 

Belle blinked, coming back to the conversation, “Nothing in particular, why?”

 

Joseph played with his fingers nervously, “I was thinking, maybe I could grab Granny's and we could, ah, talk? Get the worst of the story done and over with?”

 

She nodded, “I’d like that.”

 

Whatever the “worst” of the story entailed.

Chapter 2: Meet Cutes

Summary:

Belle has lunch with Joseph, and a drink with Hannah, and tries to keep an open mind.

Belle didn't normally allow food or beverage into her reading nook, but for Joseph she made an exception.

 

They sat in the two oversized armchairs, a side table between them for their burger/grilled cheese, fries and iced teas. Joseph munched on a fry as he determined where to start.

 

“Once upon a time,” he began, “There was a priest who ran away to the far-off land of California and moved in unwittingly with two wendigos.”

 

“I’m hooked,” she said, smiling around her straw.

 

He smiled back bashfully, “There's not much of interest in those first few months… I was too content to question much of anything. For the first time in my life I was…cared about. Accepted as I was. Decent at my job. Eventually, even loved. Oh!” He gave a small hop in his seat, “There was Freddi. She was there from the beginning, scared and confused… She didn’t take to Francis like the other dogs but I was able to get her out of her shell.”

 

There was such pride in his voice, and warmth… Even without the details she could imagine how happy he had been. But the joy wavered, storm clouds rolling over the light in his eyes.

 

“I don't know how long they could have hid it from me… Possibly forever but I don't think that was feasible, even with me ignoring the red flags.” He rubbed his hands together, “There was a woman… I don't remember her name, if I ever knew it. She came to my cabin in the middle of the night begging for help and she was…not alright. She escaped while they were distracted… And Vlad, Francis' dog? He let them know where she went.”

 

Maybe lunch wasn't the time to learn Joseph's story. Despite losing her appetite Belle forced herself to eat and not react too strongly. He was trusting her with his story; she didn't want to scare him off by asking what the hell was wrong with his spouses the moment it turned ugly.

 

Joseph took a drink and looked up at her, “I lied to you, on Christmas. I gave you the cover story. The truth is… I didn't stab Hannah because I was drunk. I stabbed her because I was scared out of my fucking mind. I didn't go to rehab; I was locked in a basement for three months.”

 

And then she couldn't hide her feelings. Her jaw dropped and she felt the outrage trying to form into words. Joseph held his hand up.

 

“I know. I know… But I’m sure you can guess what the alternative was.”

 

“That's not love, Joseph, that's coercion!” She snapped, “They held your own life over your head until you became what they wanted you to be!”

 

“I’ve never been what they wanted me to be.” Joseph spoke calmly, as matter-of-fact as if he were telling someone else's story, “You think they wanted a squeamish, nervous ex-alcoholic with a fairly average libido? Francis hates that I became a vegetarian. Hannah can't stand the fact I refuse to watch the first few episodes of each American Idol season. They didn't keep me alive because I fit perfectly into their lifestyle… They’ve never kept a paramour alive who knew too much. If that's not love then what is it?”

 

Belle didn't have an answer. Joseph bit into his sandwich, chewing and swallowing before continuing.

 

“Maybe it was brainwashing, who knows. Properly defining it doesn't change what happened, and we’ve moved past it. I needed proof their feelings weren't just a facade, they needed proof I wouldn't go to the police. I wasn't beaten or starved… There was some molestation but honestly consent's still an issue sometimes.” He shook his head, “But that's it. That's the worst they’ve ever done to me and they have never hurt Grace. That was the low point and we’ve only gone up from there. Don't look at me like that!”

 

She frowned, “Like what?”

 

“Like I'm a victim! I don't know how many ways I need to tell you I’ve made my own decisions!” He was raising his voice but there was no anger behind it, only frustration, “I am a grown man with my own agency and if you cannot respect that then how can I possibly get you to understand a triad marriage under false identities raising a child?!”

 

Belle bit her lip. He was right… She needed to stop infantilizing him when he clearly had a much better grasp of the situation than she did. 

 

“I'm sorry,” she said, “You're right. I'm still…trying to adjust my thinking.”

 

He immediately calmed back down, curling into himself and looking as if he felt he should be apologizing as well, “It's a lot to take in, and it does look bad from the outside. But they're…they're not like…Gaston. They don't break me down…they build me up.”

 

And, well, there wasn't much to argue there either. Yes, they were on occasion condescending towards Joseph (yesterday's fight the main example) but overall they seemed to treat him as a trophy, something to be admired and shown off. It wasn't necessarily a healthy view, but far from the demeaning undertones of typical emotional abuse.

 

The lunch left her plenty of food for thought, and a tough look at her own motivations. There were plenty of good intentions; caring about Joseph and Grace, concern about the overbearing cannibals that oversaw their household. But it would be dishonest to say her curiosity hadn't gotten the better of her, or that she hadn’t been seeing herself as a hero ready to save the prince in distress…

 

…and that thinking had almost got her killed. She was the one elbowing her way into their world; she needed to listen to their advice instead of assume she knew what was going on. These were not cartoon villains and really, wasn't this the more interesting prospect? A pair of psychopaths capable of love?

 

It felt wrong to accept she needed to see it from the serial killers’ perspective but… She didn't have much of a choice if she wanted to continue to be a part of Joseph's life. He loved them. They loved him. Belle… Belle cared about him.

 

She arrived home after work to a yowling Audrey who, for the first time in her life, tried to slip outside. Belle gently nudged her away, wondering what on earth had gotten into her… And then spotted a box on the kitchen table. She approached it as a bomb technician might approach C4, having to open it to be sure the box art wasn’t lying. Sure enough, the latest MacBook Air was inside, and a cat-shaped sticky note fluttered to the tabletop. “Sorry” was written on it, with a curly-haired crying face doodled beneath it.

 

She picked it up and marched across the yard, barely keeping Audrey from following her. She pounded her fist against the MacAvoy’s front door and, eventually, the subject of her ire appeared.

 

“I can't accept this,” Belle protested, pushing the box at Hannah.

 

The blonde made no move to grab it, folding her arms and leaning against the doorway instead, “I broke yours, I got you a new one, as promised.”

 

“It's too much.”

 

“Then think of it as a replacement and a bribe to keep your mouth shut,” she shrugged, “Joseph and I are set, Francis doesn't upgrade until he has no choice, and Grace is too young for her own. Keep it, sell it, break it, whatever. But we're even. You owe me nothing, I owe you nothing.”

 

Maybe it was the lack of cursing, or maybe it was the iciness of Hannah's usually blazing demeanor. Belle's own temper cooled in the face of this new side of Hannah.

 

“...thank you.”

 

“Your welcome,” Hannah went to close the door.

 

“Wait…”

 

“Neither of them are here,” she insisted, “Grace has a birthday party Joseph needed to take her to.”

 

“I wasn't…”

 

“ He’s not here either.”

 

“Thank you, for what you did yesterday.”

 

She shook her head, “Don't thank me. I was ready to let him… Joseph's the one who saved you. He’s the one who didn't give up.”

 

Was Hannah feeling…guilty? Not that she shouldn't but… This was yet another twist on the roller coaster of their relationship. 

 

Belle shrugged, “Still… You showed up.”

 

Hannah stared at the far wall, jaw clenched. Belle couldn't even begin to guess what was going through her mind right now. They had both had a hell of a week…

 

“Do you…want to go grab a drink?” Belle asked. Hannah turned back to her, bemused by the offer. “I’ll even be the designated driver?”

 

It earned her a small smile, “I’m not fucking letting you drive me anywhere.”

 

They didn't bother getting dressed up before heading out. Hannah still drove like a maniac but was noticeably quieter than the night she had taken Belle out. Then again Hannah had been going off about Gaston and comparing ways to kill people…

 

…in hindsight, that conversation was terrifying.

 

“How long?” Belle asked, out of curiosity more than accusation.

 

“I mean I was just gonna go to that same place-”

 

“How long were you planning on killing Gaston before you actually did it?” 

 

An impish smile tugged at the corners of Hannah's lips, “Not long at all. I wanted to kill him since seeing those disgusting hunting trophies but, y’know, Joseph encourages us to do better. Go after bigger fish, so to speak.” She pointed at Belle's cheek, “Wasn't happy Gaston did that , mind you, but when even Joseph says this guy’s gotta go, you know then that he’s really got to go.”

 

Belle's eyes widened, “ Joseph told you to kill him?”

 

“Not with those specific words, he said something dramatic like “do what you must”. But he knew exactly what he was doing by sending us a picture of your face.” She glanced at Belle and quickly shook her head, “It doesn't happen often; we keep him and Grace as far from that stuff as we can, especially Grace. But, well… He knows what we are, what we’re capable of. What we need to do to survive.”

 

No wonder Joseph acted like he was responsible for them, if they listened so readily to his…suggestions. Belle couldn't blame him for making the best of his situation with what power he had. It made her wonder how tempted she would be to pull such a trigger, and if she would have done the same thing if it were him she found unconscious and bloody.

 

“...did he suffer?” She asked.

 

“What answer you wanna hear, sweetheart?” Hannah offered gently.

 

Belle sighed, “...the truth, I suppose.”

 

“He suffered. Not for very long though… Bled out in like twenty minutes.” Hannah's grin widened.

 

Belle…wasn't sure how she felt, both that Hannah was finally admitting they had killed him and to hear that he had suffered a painful gruesome death. She was caught between opening the car door to escape this obvious sadist…and asking even more unnerving questions that were popping up in the wake of such honesty.

 

“You know, you're taking all this fairly well,” Hannah…complimented her?

 

Belle shrugged, “What's the alternative, going mad?”

 

“Usually.” She pulled into a parking spot, biting her lip, “...I figured you'd never want to speak to me again after learning the whole truth.”

 

What choice did Belle realistically have? She supposed she could have run off, or cut communication. But at this point the sunk cost fallacy convinced her that it would be a waste, to finally learn the big secret and then toss it all aside in favor of “safety”. At this point she was so used to threats and danger, it felt more normal than the precarious, naive notion of being “safe”.

 

“I have too many questions I want to ask,” she said honestly.

 

Hannah turned to her, shoulders curled inwards but eyes bright with hope, “I’ve never been good at making female friends… Really it's just been my sister and I’s relationship that hasn't eventually turned into a catty mess. It’d be real nice to have, like, an actual girl friend to do stuff with.”

 

It was difficult not to immediately accept the invitation at face value; Hannah just looked so…vulnerable. Yes, they had a rocky start, but Hannah had been making a genuine effort lately, and hopefully not just to get babies out of her. And, well, even if she didn't take credit for saving Belle's life, things might have been drastically worse without her showing up when she did.

 

“Is that why you and Lai Lai can't be in the same room together?” She half-joked.

 

“Nah, that's a difference of professional opinion.” Hannah stepped out of the car and Belle followed, “She doesn't believe in asking questions about a hit, while I definitely would be asking questions if someone wanted me to kill a civilian with the same last name as my mentor. Also I usually fucking notice if they're visibly pregnant before pulling the trigger.”

 

“What?!”

 

“You heard me right.” Hannah's jaw clenched, “Joshua Harlow won the Tournament in ‘09 to be with his fiance Mary… But Powers didn't want to see him ride off into the sunset. Motherfucker orchestrated a revenge plot like their life was a goddamn soap opera. Lucky he only got his head blown up…”

 

They took the same table and Belle noticed the eight crescent moon shaped grooves Hannah had left behind from the previous conversation. To dig her nails in that deep… At least this time she was fuming over something else and Belle was going to do her best not to provoke her… Despite learning about Joseph being locked in a basement for three months.

 

Hannah's choice of a Long Island Iced Tea as their drink orders were taken sounded wonderful, so Belle copied her.

 

“So how does one get into your…previous line of work?” She asked carefully.

 

“Well I mean you have to start with some capital, a location, and get a non-profit organ- Oh , right, that previous line of work.” Hannah folded her arms on the table, leaning in slightly, “There’s a few ways; some freelance right from the get-go, others have a head start in a family business. I got recruited because uh…I wasn't in a good place when I left home.”

 

“Recruited?”

 

“Into an agency.” She explained, “It was a good way to get my feet wet but I got sick of having a boss before too long.”

 

They both went quiet as their drinks arrived. Hannah sipped at hers, then narrowed her eyes at Belle.

 

“You actually seem interested, not just placating me.” She observed, “Should I be worried about a wire?”

 

Belle laughed, “No, I, I got the message loud and clear about playing hero. It's just…fascinating, to hear about this whole other world. Scary, but…intriguing.”

 

Hannah relaxed and stirred her drink, “Joseph hates this kind of talk, won't engage if he doesn't have to. And Francis… Well there's not much I know about the trade that he doesn't.”

 

“And you were good enough to qualify? For the…”

 

She shrugged modestly, “I guess. Don't think it's an exact science… Not very fun to watch if they're all stone cold badasses, you know? Need to mix in some nutcases, some underdogs, some eye candy… From the producer’s point of view, it's all about the show.”

 

“But you won.” Belle pointed out, “Surely that proves you were qualified to be there.”

 

Hannah gave a pleased little hum, “Yeah I made a fucking statement. But it wasn't all skill… God was lookin’ out for me and… I found someone to make it out for.” Tenderness slipped into her tone and Belle could guess who that someone was.

 

She couldn't help herself at the promise of a love story. She leaned forward, “That's where you met Francis?”

 

Hannah's curls bounced as she nodded, her whole face lighting up, “He had tried to join but, well, no one believed his record and he wasn't registered or nothing. And he was so maaaaaad, I found him in a bar pouting up such a storm he didn't even notice he was being watched until I came up to him.”

 

That part was easy to imagine, Francis acting like a child who didn't get his way. Belle sipped at her drink, finding a few thorns of envy pricking at her. She had always wanted that sort of fairytale love… Had even settled for just finding love at this point. Hannah looked so happy , and why wouldn't she be? It was like Joseph had said, they matched each other's crazy.

 

“I think we knew within fifteen minutes what we had was special,” Hannah mused, “He wanted me to come home with him after I won and, well, I followed that man to California like a puppy dog. Tied the knot after three months.”

 

“And when did you learn about his…diet?”

 

She did a quick visual sweep of the bar before answering, “Before we even left the island. Not the mythology bits; leading with the superpowers sways a lot less people than you’d think. Cannibalism’s the easier sell because you can start and stop as you please. Being a fully-fledged wendigo though… That's a lifetime commitment.”

 

Belle continued to drink, trying to set aside her…morality for the evening. She was attempting to put herself in their shoes, to see things from their…very odd perspective.

 

Once she trusted herself not to come off as judgy, she asked, “Why did you…commit?”

 

Hannah looked amused that she would even ask, “Because I love him… Even when he's being a piece of shit. Because he’d already been through so much pain and loss I couldn't bear the thought of causing him more. Because the only thing worse than being fucked in the head, is being fucked in the head and alone.”

 

“...and why did he commit?”

 

She shook her head, “Not my story to tell.” She played with her straw, sizing Belle up, “He's definitely got it out for you…”

 

“I noticed.”

 

“I mean he's gotten kill boners before but… They got resolved. And he can be a petty little fucker but he’s never gotten that heated that close to Joseph…” Hannah tapped a nail against her glass thoughtfully, “Think that shithead’s got a lot more going on internally than he’s admitting to.”

 

Or he was just an asshole. Belle continued to drink, feeling the pleasant softening of her nerves thanks to the alcohol.

 

“Where…is he?” She finally asked.

 

“Not sure. You want another drink?”

 

“I better not.” Though she desperately wanted to.

 

Hannah ordered herself another Long Island, sighing as she turned back to Belle, “What doesn't kill you gives you quirky coping mechanisms. He isolates himself when he's got too much going on in his head, sometimes just for a few hours, and sometimes he goes full Bear Grylls for a few days. Just Man versus Wild’s his emotional turmoil.”

 

How very Hemingway protagonist of him… 

 

Hannah folded her arms and leaned forward, “It's looking like we both judged you too harshly.” She paused as the server came by with the second drink, waiting until she was out of earshot, “At least Joseph knew better… Buuuut in our defense you don't last this long outside of prison bars without a decent amount of paranoia and precaution.”

 

“I'm not sure you were wrong,” Belle confessed, realizing too late she was being overly transparent, “I might have tried something, if Lai Lai didn't illustrate how completely pointless it would be.”

 

“Don't fucking say that shit to Francis,” she warned, “At best, you inflate his ego, at worst he’ll never fucking trust you. I appreciate the honesty though; with all the cards out on the table we need to be truthful with each other from here on. That's the only way this works.”

 

Belle nodded, shifting through her words before trying to explain, “It's…a bit of a 180. I'm…still adjusting, trying to turn my way of thinking…”

 

Hannah nodded back at her, “Yeah, that's totally understandable. It took Joseph some time too. But the worst is behind us; nowhere to go but up.”

 

Belle hoped that was the case.

 

Chapter 3: Grace's Origin Story

Summary:

Joseph tells Belle about the love and sacrifice that went into bringing his daughter into the world.

The mayor was apparently staying for story time.

 

Usually Regina dropped Henry off at the Little Shop of Wonders, using the time for whatever a single mother needed to get done like errands. This Saturday though, she took a seat in one of the chairs Belle pulled over to the reading nook for the occasion. It seemed cruel to make any parents who wanted to participate sit on the floor or cushions like the kids. Henry, as always, kept glancing at the door, waiting for his partner in crime.

 

Much less frequently, much more subtly, Regina checked the door as well.

 

A pink Michelin Tire Mascot barreled in, the thick parka not slowing her down at all. She dive-bombed into the cushion Henry saved for her, loudly declared “OUCH”, then sat up properly beside him. Her chauffeur took his time following, glancing about for another seat not next to Regina. Seeing no other choice, he eventually sank down beside Mayor Mills.

 

Grace was a model audience member, keeping quiet while Belle read, reacting when the story called for it. She brought a much-needed balance of energy and respect to the event, even if that came with her trying to police the more unruly listeners. When her death glare didn't send the message to a squirrely boy, she started climbing over the other kids to “give him a talking to”, which led to Joseph quietly pulling her aside and Belle having to continue without her. A much more sullen Grace returned for the finale, but her rain clouds didn't last long.

 

As the group dispersed, Regina made sure to catch Joseph before he slipped away. Belle didn't like how uncomfortable he looked, or how determined she looked. And Belle didn't miss how distracted Grace was from her conversation with Henry.

 

Eventually Regina retrieved Henry and they were on their way, leaving just the MacAvoys lingering in the bookstore. Joseph sighed and took a stool at the counter; Grace copied him.

 

“What was that about?” Belle asked, preemptively preparing some tea.

 

“She wants the D.”

 

“Grace!” Joseph snapped, almost as shocked as Belle was.

 

“Whaaaaaaaat,” Grace whined, "I heeeeeeeeeard her when we were having dinner, she wants the Daddy real bad!”

 

“She doesn't want Daddy, not romantically… Also your mother is getting her supervision privileges revoked again.”

 

Belle glanced at Joseph, quirking an eyebrow. He shook his head in a “it's a long story not appropriate for small ears” fashion, before beginning a Grace-safe explanation.

 

“She's trying to track down Francis after her…display of temper last week.”

 

“She threw a glass!”

 

“Thank you Grace, but let Daddy tell it.” Belle poured him some tea and Grace a cup of hot chocolate while Joseph worked out what to say, “She voiced concern since people have been…disappearing lately.”

 

“They're hardly disappearances. Sidney was arrested and Gaston had an accident.” She was surprised how smoothly it slid out; maybe all of the lying to cover for her ex was finally coming in handy.

 

Joseph gave her a small smile of acknowledgement, “Well, the mayor is still concerned. I assured her Joe just went on a camping trip to clear his head after having to deal with this chatterbox on his own.” He pulled Grace's parka hoodie over her eyes. She gave a sinister giggle before tossing it back.

 

Belle glanced out the window but Storybrooke seemed fairly quiet even for a Saturday. Too cold even for the locals. She poured herself a cup of tea as well.

 

“Last night go alright?” He asked, sipping at his cup.

 

“Yeah it was… It was nice,” she said, “I think we're finally settling on some common ground.”

 

He beamed, “That's terrific, I’m really glad. She, ah, she wanted me to invite you… We’re going ice skating at the nearby rink tonight, if you wanted to join us. Grace, don't kick the counter.”

 

“Sorry, got excited.”

 

“You ice skate?” Belle asked.

 

Joseph guffawed, “Oh no, Hannah does, and Grace wants to. You won't catch me dead out there.”

 

“He’s going to need……..” Grace’s head wobbled as she dragged the pause out, voice deepening, “... company .”

 

“Quit it, Francis Junior.” It was adorable how flustered he was getting, refusing to look at Belle while he squirmed in his seat, “I can just bring a book or something, if you’d rather not.”

 

“I would, but… I don't want to upset anyone.” Or a particular someone…

 

Joseph glanced at her and frowned, “Excuse the college fund donation but tough shit. You're a part of the pack now, and he’ll have to adjust like the rest of us.”

 

Grace gave a happy little wiggle and Belle recalled her drawings of wolves and sheep. She had foretold this long before it was a thought in any of their minds, and if she had more agency in her family's dynamics Belle might have accused her of scheming.

 

They picked her up later and she rode in the back with Grace, who immediately informed her she couldn't move because she had three layers on so she didn't “break her butt when she fell”. Hannah was still skittish around her, a little uncertain, but she’d take that over a hostile possessive Hannah any day.

 

“Are you hungry?” Joseph asked as Hannah and Grace got in line for rentals.

 

“A little,” Belle admitted.

 

“You want to share some nachos?”

 

Despite being several yards away, Hannah’s head snapped towards him, glaring venomously. Joseph shook his head.

 

Fuck him , he mouthed.

 

Fuck you , she mouthed back.

 

SWEAR JAR, Grace mouthed as wide as she could.

 

Joseph rolled his eyes and got into the concessions line. After a moment's hesitation, Belle followed.

 

“What was that about?” She asked, concerned.

 

“Nothing important,” he muttered, “They don't like me eating junk food, that's all. He’s more stringent than she is.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Main reason is my health. Since I…won't be joining their diet, they want to keep me around as long as possible. You want anything to drink?”

 

Though there were hints, it was still a relief to hear that not only had he chosen not to become a wendigo, they were also respecting that choice. Gaston had kept a close eye on her eating as well, but that had less to do with her health and more to do with keeping her figure. Joseph didn't seem concerned about any consequences for his rebellion, ordering the nachos as well as a tea for her and a coffee for him. 

 

“Food is also a love language for Francis,” Joseph continued as they found a spot to observe from the bleachers, “I mean you were there for Thanksgiving. He thrives in the kitchen, on providing in that way. But it does lead to some…odd conflicts.”

 

“Granny's?” Belle guessed.

 

He sighed, “Granny's. Bastard…”

 

Hannah was trying to help Grace get her skates on, but Grace was more fascinated by the skating helper. It looked like a child-sized walker and from her hunched-over back and shaky hand Grace seemed to agree. It was difficult not to think about Belle’s pre-Gaston hopes, watching the pair. After seeing the world, she had always pictured herself settling down with the love of her life, raising children with him and growing old together. Hannah radiated joy, even though her daughter's antics complicated the task of tying her laces. And Grace seemed just as radiant spending one-on-one time with her mother, trying out a new activity.

 

Joseph set the tray between them, smiling as he watched the blondes prepare to embark, “I don't know where we’d be without that bite-sized hellion. She's our whole world.”

 

“You’ve both mentioned the pregnancy was difficult,” Belle said, taking a chip.

 

He nodded and glanced around. It was an oddly slow night, few skaters and even fewer observers, but Belle once again chalked it up to people not being in the mood to deal with the cold. Their fellow sideliners were a good distance away, not paying any attention to them.

 

“Twenty-fifth time’s the charm, I guess.”

 

“Twenty-fifth?”

 

“That they're aware of…”

 

Belle puzzled over it, but given his somber expression… “You can't possibly mean…”

 

He nodded.

 

Grace balked at the threshold between ice and floor, clinging to her skate-aid. Hannah stood beside her, reassuring her but not pressing her, waving other skaters on around them. Belle could not fathom such heartache, and wouldn't wish that kind of pain on her worst enemy. How could Hannah even cope with that much personal loss?

 

“There are perks to being a wendigo… But it should never be forgotten that it is at its core a parasite. A tapeworm constantly demanding more and more. And if it is not appeased… It will take. Indiscriminately. Whatever it can.” He sipped at his coffee, looking ashamed, “I wanted Grace from the moment I knew of her existence. Wanted her so badly. And they agreed to try again… No matter the cost.”

 

A screech came from the rink as Grace slid out onto the ice, clinging to the skate-aid with all her might. Laughs interlaced with her screeching as she continued inching forward, an ecstatic snail. Hannah was beaming, hovering in case she needed help, and making sure they didn't get in anyone's way.

 

“...does it need to be fresh?” Belle asked, hinting at her larger question of “do they really need to murder people”.

 

“Relatively.” He took one of the cheesiest chips he could find, “They did try; hospitals, willing victims… But it wasn't going to be enough. Francis freelanced as a hit man and cleaner for most of the pregnancy. He was constantly gone and Hannah’s appetite only grew.”

 

“Momentum, sweetie, you need momentum!” Hannah encouraged Grace as she slipped around.

 

“I can't!” She shrieked, “I’M GONNA DIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEE!!!”

 

Hannah glanced towards the bleachers, spotted them, then smiled. She rolled her eyes, pointed at Grace, then pointed at him. He gave a small smile, shook his head, and pointed back at Hannah firmly.

 

“GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD!” Grace wailed as she slowly sank to her knees, “TELL DADDY AND UNCLE JOE I LOOOOOVED THEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM.”

 

In almost perfect sync, Hannah and Joseph stroked an invisible mustache, causing them both to smirk. Hannah waved at Belle, Belle waved back, and Hannah went to go help the drama queen in training get back up. Joseph's smile faded, and he continued in a low voice.

 

“I have to tell you this, but please don't blame Hannah. She wasn't… She wasn't in her right mind. She's apologized countless times-”

 

“She attacked you, didn't she?”

 

Joseph winced, then nodded, “There's…a scar. On my shoulder. She…took a bite out of me but that was it, she stopped, she didn't chase me… It could have been much worse but it wasn’t .”

 

He was begging her to empathize with the woman who tore a chunk of his flesh off. And Belle wanted to be angry with Hannah, more than anything, but… He was right. All things considered one bite did pale in comparison to what could have happened… And Gaston had never apologized to her for any of her bruises.

 

“...but you stayed.”

 

“I know how stupid it sounds but… I couldn't leave. Not after everything we’d been through so far. Not over one accident. And it's never happened since,” he added quickly before moving on, “Francis… He stayed… To keep it from happening again. But he wasn't taking care of himself, too busy making sure Hannah and Grace were alright… He was on death’s door but he…” Joseph reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, taking several deep breaths, “Sorry, I still get emotional thinking about it. He…made me a getaway bag, told me to leave after I locked him in the basement. He was ready to die…rather than hurt either me or Hannah.”

 

One by one, the missing pieces were falling into place. Of course he trusted them, after they refused to kill him for an easy meal at their most desperate. Of course he loved a man willing to die for him, no matter how much of a bastard said man could be. Of course they were overprotective of the boyfriend and the daughter they had fought so hard to keep.

 

“What did you do?” Belle asked.

 

Joseph buried his face in his hands, “...I killed a man.” He admitted.

 

Just when she thought she had reached the absolute limit of their insanity, something new shattered that illusion. She stared at him, trying to imagine Joseph killing a man…and couldn't. Even in self-defense.

 

“Well maybe not literally, but I might as well have done it myself.” He sighed, lowering his hands and clasping them, “In addition to an entire underground network for assassins… You can also buy human meat if you find certain dark web sites and are willing to pay a steep price. There's…enough cannibals in the world that there's multiple businesses of that nature. I…picked the closest… The one I thought was the most humane…”

 

Belle winced, “How many wendigos are out there?”

 

Joseph shook his head, “If there are any besides them… We haven't run across them. It's…more complicated than that. All wendigos are cannibals but not all cannibals are wendigos, yeah?” His hands unclasped, gesticulating, “The way Francis describes it… There needs to be desperation behind the decision. The all-encompassing need to survive. Otherwise the spirit won't take.”

 

“DADDY DADDY LOOK! LOOK! I'M SKATING!” Grace scooted along, her skates shuffling inch by inch.

 

Joseph forced a smile, “Great job, Gracie! You’ll be skating circles around Mommy in no time!”

 

Unfortunately his encouragement overexcited her and she lost her balance, slowly plopping onto the ice. Hannah was beaming with pride but the expression vanished as soon as she saw Joseph's face. She glared at Belle but Joseph waved dismissively, a weak attempt to assure her all was fine. Hannah scowled before turning back to Grace.

 

“...being a cannibal is about enjoying a taboo. Being a wendigo is about surviving by eating others so you don't end up attacking your loved ones, or chewing on your own flesh.” He took a long drink from his coffee, “...I saved three women that I found chained up in cells. One was missing her breasts, another a leg, the third her arse… All of them kept alive, dying piece by piece, over days or weeks… Seems a crueller fate than a few hours of two psychopaths playing with their food.”

 

Belle wasn't sure either were preferable, but if she had to face a killer and die… She supposed the latter had some benefits. 

 

Joseph snorted, “That's the real irony. Wasn't my cannibal spouses that turned me off from meat. It was loading a delivery van full of body parts another cannibal was stockpiling. I just…I can't look at it without remembering that day.”

 

“I don't think I could eat meat after that either,” Belle said, sipping her tea, “So I suppose you made it back in time?”

 

“Aye, that bastard’s stock lasted us the rest of the pregnancy and postpartum.” His smile returned, “Then we had Grace. Hannah won the argument, so there was an elective C-section a month early.”

 

She tilted her head, “What doctor would sign off on that?”

 

“Dr. Fucking Francis, that's who.”

 

Belle blinked, “...is he actually…”

 

“Licensed? No. Experienced with childbirth? Also no. Insane and knows way too much about cutting up a body? Yes.” Joseph picked at the nachos again, “The man had a textbook propped up while he was operating, it was terrifying. If Hannah didn't have super healing, and if I thought he would still go through with it if he had any doubt of hurting Grace, I wouldn't have let the mad man do it.”

 

“And she was healthy, born that early?”

 

“Mostly. It was touch-and-go at first, a lot of concern about her lungs. But she's a fighter, our wee miracle.” He watched Grace as she continued to figure out how to skate, falling often but getting right back up. Pride shone in his eyes, “Nothing can stop her now.”

Chapter 4: Shopping Montage

Summary:

With snow in the forecast, Joseph and Hannah are getting increasingly worried about their runaway spouse.

Also Hannah takes Belle shopping for pre-storm goodies.

Belle needed that Sunday to decompress. Curl up with Audrey, who kept staring at the MacAvoys’ house like Romeo awaiting his chance to abscond to Juliet. Drink a lot of tea and stare far too much at the ceiling while her full situation sank in. She had befriended the beloved humans of a pair of immortal cannibals and was now considered part of their clan, which may include her having to share any children she and said beloved human conceived.

 

Joseph's situation had changed dramatically over the course of what, a year? And after hearing about the pregnancy, it was abundantly clear he had been given agency and choice. And his choice had been them. Because there was something more to them than their abhorrent crimes… Something incredibly human about the monsters. Hearing more and more of their story just revealed more and more questions and now that the secrecy was over, they seemed much more forthcoming with answers.

 

Here she had been judging Joseph for sticking around when he had far more reason than she to stay, and yet she still wasn't packing her bags. Partially because they may view that as an act of betrayal, partially to spite Francis but mostly… Mostly for her own morbid curiosity about her inhuman neighbors and their poor neurotic husband.

 

Yes, HOA squabbles must seem very quaint for a family that regularly dealt with the criminal underground. And Joseph at the very least could use someone normal to vent to… She would just need to start carrying perfume sprays to ward off Francis like holy water against a demon.

 

She stepped into the antique store late Monday morning with their teas. Joseph was frowning at a laptop, the static of a radio coming from behind him. He glanced up and sighed.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Of course.” She set his down in front of him, “You look concerned.”

 

“Francis isn't home yet. Hasn't even checked in.” 

 

There was a burst of crackly speech from the radio and Joseph paused to listen before it went back to static. Not a radio then; a police scanner. He closed the laptop and picked up the drink, grimacing.

 

“The good and bad news is no reports on any murders or missing people in the area,” he said, “So he hasn't completely lost his marbles.”

 

“Why would that be…” Belle trailed off as she realized the answer.

 

No murder meant he’d still be hungry.

 

Joseph winced apologetically before continuing, “Hannah’s doing a sweep of the area, see if she can track where he is at least. There's snow in the forecast…”

 

She raised an eyebrow, “He’s not that dramatic that he’d stay out there in a snowstorm, is he?”

 

Joseph laughed, “Oh he’s that dramatic, but it's unlikely he’d pull that stunt right now. No, it's… He likes to double-check everything before a significant snow, just in case. Because, of course, two years of canned goods could just magically vanish…” He tried to keep his face serious, but the warmth in his voice betrayed him.

 

Belle took a drink, “I’m…still trying to reconcile both sides of them,” she admitted.

 

He nodded sympathetically, “Takes awhile, and even then… You just have to remind yourself the good is who they really are, beyond all the shadows and darkness.”

 

“...you haven't changed much,” she noted, “Caleb was more secretive but otherwise… You're the same person.”

 

He shrugged, “Well it helps that I’m not a sadistic killer, I think.” He looked into her eyes, his gaze so sincere she could cry, “...I’m really glad I get to be honest with you.”

 

Belle glanced away, willing her cheeks to stay a proper shade of pink, “I’m sure you’ve wanted to tell someone about all this madness for a long time.”

 

She didn't realize she had one hand on the counter until he rested his own over top of it, warm and gentle.

 

“I mean you, specifically.”

 

He left it there for a heartbeat, then a second, and then shyly withdrew. Belle fought the temptation to grab for his hand.

 

“...I just want you to be happy,” he said softly, “We’re…a bit of a circus and I understand if you’d rather… Not be a part of it.”

 

“I think I’ve had my chances to get out,” she mused, “Anyway, why would I want to go back to a boring existence?”

 

He snorted, “Because you're sane?” 

 

She giggled, “Not all that sane, I think. Though I suppose the bar for sanity in your world is on the ground.”

 

“Lower,” he muttered, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

 

Later that day, Belle checked her phone and had to remind herself to stop panicking every time she saw a text from Hannah. They were friends now… She was pretty sure. No reason to have a flight-or-fight reaction to a friend's text without reading it.

 

grabbin some esentials 4 snowstorm u want to cum with ❄️🛒🫶🙏👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨🌹☃️🍑🍆🍎🥒💋🥵😘☕🧣🙏🫶💖💖💖

 

Belle felt like she was solving a cryptology puzzle with the odd string of emojis. All she could make of it was that Hannah would really like her to go with, most likely to a grocery store with all of those food emojis included. She considered the offer, and her own home’s supplies, and figured it wouldn't hurt.

 

Hannah picked her up after dinner, even knocking on the door instead of barging inside. She was almost relaxed around Belle, her bouncy step and eager chatter reminding Belle so much of Grace.

 

…if Grace was allowed to use swear words.

 

“Like these bitches can't fucking zipper merge to save their life, I don't know how Joseph fucking stands it. Literally fucking elementary school shit, one two one two. And what's that fucking crossing guard bitch doing to help any of this traffic fuckcluster? I get you gotta protect pedestrians first and foremost but nothing's gonna protect them if I get so pissed off I road rage and that Bridgette bitch is taking her sweet ass time on the crosswalk.” Hannah paused to take a breath, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, “Honestly as much as I love dropping off and picking up Grace, it would be best for Storybrooke if Francis gets his ass together to run the shop so Joseph can deal with pick up drop off and I can… I dunno, harass you and Francis or something.”

 

“Have you considered trying a new hobby?” Belle suggested gently.

 

Hannah sighed, “Shelter doesn't need volunteers right now. I saw there's stables but if I start horseback riding then Grace is gonna want to horseback ride and then all of a sudden we wind up with a Black Beauty, Ginger, Merrylegs situation because if Francis is getting her a pony he’s getting me a horse and might as well get himself one while he's at it. And horses are a lot more difficult to flee the country with than dogs.”

 

Belle thought maybe they had reached their destination when she saw an outdoors recreation store but Hannah kept driving.

 

“Speaking of Francis, did you track him down earlier?”

 

Hannah rolled her eyes, “No, the prick. But don't worry, honey, he knows better than to bother you right now.”

 

“I’m not worried,” she lied, “I just…know Joseph is, and you must be too.”

 

Hannah went quiet, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, “...he's not usually gone this long, especially since Grace came into the picture. I think he's dealing with some old ghosts you stirred up.” She signaled to pull into a strip mall, “Honestly, in a terrifying way, it's kind of impressive how deep under his skin you’ve gotten. Takes a lot for that volcano to blow. It's like you're tap dancing on every fucking one of his nerves…”

 

Belle was distracted as Hannah parked in front of a red neon sign with some very suggestive posters in the window, “What the hell are we doing here?”

 

“Getting essentials!” Hannah’s eyes twinkled as she grinned devilishly at Belle, “Might get snowed in, and then what happens if the power goes out?”

 

“I read by candlelight.”

 

“Oh is that what you call it, “reading by candlelight”?” Hannah snorted, “Gaston’s illiterate ass might've ignored your shelves, but I recognize way too many of those titles.” She reached over and tapped Belle’s nose playfully, “ You're a nasty little degenerate too, and could do so much better than that bullet vibrator you’ve got tucked away in  “Pride and Prejudice”.”

 

“You do not need to go through my things like that!” Belle snapped, her face and neck burning up.

 

Hannah shrugged, “This was a while ago, I haven't gone through your shit recently . Hollowed out books are suspicious as fuck.” Her hand hovered over the keys in the ignition, “You coming in or not? I do actually need to get some essentials, you would not believe how fast we go through lube.”

 

If only there was a hole in the floor of the Cadillac that she could disappear into… Belle glanced at the neon sign again. She had never gathered the courage to go into an adult store before, or even order online. Not with Gaston breathing down her neck, ego so fragile that she had to even hide Ruby's bachelorette party gag gift. She…wondered though… And Hannah clearly had the knowledge and confidence to brazenly walk into such an establishment…

 

Belle opened the car door and Hannah squealed in delight.

 

It was a lot less sordid than Belle imagined; set up more like a Victoria's Secret than a Spencer's. Hannah handled the saleswoman who approached them and Belle retreated towards the lingerie, which she at least was familiar with. Hannah kept a respectful distance as she browsed, not hovering but not ditching her either. The heat remained in Belle's cheeks while she adjusted to the atmosphere; the employees left her alone and, when another customer came in, she didn't recognize them and they didn't approach her demanding to know what she was doing there.

 

As her comfort grew, she graduated to pasties and costumes, her imagination flaring up at the possibilities. She examined an apparently portable stripper pole, wondering if it really was stable enough to stand alone… Belle glanced up and caught Hannah watching her.

 

“I, I’ve heard it's a good workout,” she said defensively.

 

“It is,” Hannah said, smirking, “The problem is when you're trying to practice and you’ve got a couple of perverts thinking you're putting on a show.”

 

Belle shook her head, “I can't imagine Joseph…” She trailed off, her blush heating up again.

 

“Oh darlin’,” Hannah cooed, “He may be sweet as sugar and considerate as a saint… But he is still a man. He’s done incredibly well keeping up with us given his handicap.”

 

“Handicap?” Belle echoed.

 

She squinted mischievously, “Oh I guess he hasn't gotten to the virility bit yet.”

 

“The what ?”

 

Hannah giggled, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention before she continued, “Our diet has a certain…aphrodisiac quality to it. The potency of life and all that. He’s a good sport about helping us… relieve that energy.”

 

Belle closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against them, not needing to know that much about their private activities. Hannah continued giggling maniacally while Belle regrouped.

 

“That explains the molestation claims at least,” She muttered.

 

“Oh please, the Catholic doth protest too much. He knows how to use his words if he's really not into it.”

 

Belle groaned, “...Thanksgiving…”

 

Hannah sighed dreamily, “Oh Thanksgiving. Thank you by the way for letting us bring that tradition back; been difficult to have those sort of hedonistic weekends when we’ve got a little one to think about.”

 

The part of her not wishing to continue this conversation was distracted by the small part of her that was amused by the irony. Gaston's…essence or whatever being used to fuel the fire for a man he had accused her of cheating on him with was, on some level, darkly humorous. Belle took several deep breaths before opening her eyes again. 

 

Overall this was the ONE aspect of Joseph's spouses she didn't need explained.

 

Belle ventured towards the toy displays, surprised at all the different shapes and textures. Some she couldn't even imagine fitting inside her and she wondered if most men were this endowed. 

 

…if…if Jo…Jo…

 

“Is that why you and Francis decided to…open your marriage?” Belle asked to distract herself.

 

“Sweetie, get away from the cheap stuff, the good brands are over here.” Hannah gestured towards a wall with several testers available. Belle obliged, though these dildos and vibrators seemed even more intimidating by their odd ergonomic-over-recognizeable designs. “To answer your question… That was one reason, not the main one though.”

 

Hannah picked up a U-shaped contraption that looked like two dildos fused at the base, clicking through the settings and testing the vibrations. Belle looked over a much less intimidating one, with an odd bunny ear shape where she supposed the clitoris was stimulated.

 

“It wasn't… There wasn't anything lacking between us,” Hannah said defensively, “I would've been happy as a clam if it was the pair of us for all of eternity. There was just this… sense that there was room for more, you know? Like there was enough space in our hearts for another person.” She set the tester down, “Francis has always wanted a pack and like… He was all I’d ever known in that way. And eternity's a long time to be locked into one flavor, no matter how good that flavor is. You get what I'm saying?”

 

“I think so.” Belle's thumb hesitated over the power button, as if pressing it would trigger an alarm, “Relationships aren't a one-size-fits-all thing. Like how not everyone feels the need to get married to prove their love. If it's not hurting anyone, then…why not?”

 

She chickened out, setting down the vibrator without turning it on, and browsed the other types of toys. She felt Hannah's eyes on her and wasn't sure what reaction the other woman was looking for. Was she hoping for more enthusiasm about polyamory? Still trying to figure out if Belle was stupid enough to attempt to pry Joseph away from them?

 

“What's an air pulsator?” Belle asked, only halfway to change the subject.

 

“Your fucking new best friend,” Hannah insisted.

 

Somehow, Belle walked out of the shop with a palm-sized air pulsator that was shaped like a rose bud, as if to come off friendlier and more stylish. Hannah walked out with several new sets of lingerie, a variety of lubes and condoms, some massage oil, an X-rated version of Connect Four, and a few sex chocolates that may or may not actually heighten arousal, but Joseph liked anyway. 

 

“Has it always been men?” Belle found the courage to return to the topic when they were back in the car.

 

“Hm? Oh, no, there's been women too.” She pointed her finger at Belle, “Speaking of, stay the fuck away from Regina, alright? She's got it out for Francis.”

 

Belle frowned, “She's not an ex, is she?”

 

“Oh hell no, we’re not that sloppy.” Hannah shrugged, “She just…yanno… Thinks either Francis or Joseph killed her bastard sister.”

 

Buried underneath all the recent craziness, Belle unearthed the memory of Grace's recital, when Hannah and Francis had left so abruptly after seeing Regina. 

 

“ Did he kill her sister?”

 

“...well yeah, but it's not like she knows that for sure . She's got this faceless picture of Francis and that's it, far as she's concerned.” Hannah raked her fingers through her hair, “I know Sidney was her lap dog, but if he told her about Joseph's past then one of the Tournament guys would've sniffed it out. It’ll be real interesting to see if she can get the next editor under her thumb.”

 

“I would think so. Little’s next in line and as long as she feeds into his neuroticism, he’ll happily eat whatever BS she feeds him.” Belle shook her head, “It's not going to make the Daily Mirror any more reliable… Little has a habit of crying wolf so if a sensational article about, say, Granny being a cannibal comes out, it’ll be taken with a grain of salt.”

 

Hannah gave her a quick glance then grinned, reaching over to tousle her hair, “See? Keeping you alive’s already paying off, our little insider.”

 

Belle brushed her arm away and rolled her eyes, “Knock it off.”

 

“What, still too soon?” She teased.

 

“There isn't enough time that could pass to make my almost death funny.”

 

“Awww, c’mon sweetie, lighten up. If you don't like the cannibal jokes then you at least have to like the dark ones.”

 

“Yeah, Francis warned me you two have a terrible sense of humor.”

 

Hannah stuck her lip out in a dramatic pout, “Fine, be a wet blanket then. You and Joseph can both hang out on the clothesline while Francis and I have fun.”

 

If murder was their definition of fun, Belle was happy to be a wet blanket with Joseph.

Chapter 5: Snowed-In

Summary:

Wendigo sighting and snow fall leads to a wendigo hunt...and a sleepover.

I am so sorry I can't believe she did that to you that is SO unacceptable 😤😢😡

 

Seemed like Joseph had caught Hannah red-handed with her purchases. Belle smiled down at the text message as she typed her reply, It's alright it was very…educational

 

Inappropriate is the word I would have used 😤😤😡

 

She offered to let me stay in the car

 

STILL THESE ARE NOT ESSENTIALS DO YOU ACTUALLY NEED ANYTHING

 

Another text quickly followed, Sorry I didn't mean to shout that last bit 😥

 

Belle laughed to herself, I'm fine thank you ❤️

 

Goodnight. Sleep well knowing Helena is getting a very firm talking to 😤

 

Good night, Caleb 

 

She hesitated, then added another heart emoji before sending the text. She pressed the phone against her chest like a lovesick Victorian clutching a letter to her heart, then went to get ready for bed.

 

“Come on, Dee Dee, I’m sure Freddi’s already in for the night,” she said, about to scoop her up and forcibly remove her from the windowsill.

 

Audrey wasn't staring at the MacAvoys’ backyard, and she growled when Belle tried to pick her up in a tone much harsher than her usual annoyed grumble.

 

Belle’s eyes were still adjusting from turning the bedroom light off. She froze as she followed Audrey's line of sight to a figure perched on the fence of her backyard and though she couldn't make out many details, she could only think of one person it could be.

 

His back was to her house though, attention fixed on the lights of the pink mansion. He was still as a gargoyle despite the precarious perch, his head lifting as the downstairs lights migrated upstairs, and then turned off. He remained, paying absolutely no mind to her or her home.

 

Even though he wanted to kill her, had tried to kill her, Belle couldn't help but pity Francis. It was single digit temperatures outside, and he had only the long sleeve he had run off in, but he made no move to enter his house, or even the dungeon. His grown out facial hair only added to the miserable stray appearance and Belle resisted the urge to toss a blanket down to him. 

 

She watched him for a long while before finally giving up and slipping between the sheets, trying to put him out of her mind.

 

Facing Joseph the next day was impossible; she felt like last night was written all over her, not to mention the texts between her and Hannah later on. 

 

“You alright?” He asked worriedly as she passed him his tea, “You look flushed.”

 

“Cold out there,” she mumbled.

 

“I suppose…” He watched her much too carefully and Belle wanted to run away before he figured it out, “Again, I’m sorry about Hannah. I told her no more mystery trips, and if she tries that sort of thing again you call-”

 

“It wasn't so bad,” Belle defended, gripping her own tea for dear life, “She…really seems to know her stuff.”

 

“Because they're both giant horn dogs,” Joseph said flatly, “If they're not thinking about murder, they're thinking about sex. Scheming about sex. Inventing new forms of sex. And you don't need that sort of torment.”

 

“I don't know,” Belle murmured, wondering if someone really could die from embarrassment, “...I might have to ask her about…going shopping again sometime…”

 

Joseph stumbled back as though she had slapped him, the full weight of her confession behind the blow. She worried that he would be disgusted or angry but instead, he was blushing just as hard as she was.

 

“...I see.”

 

Belle had sent some humiliating post-orgasm texts to Hannah, thanking her profusely for her advice and wisdom and for taking her to the store and telling Hannah how right she was about the air pulsator. Unusually concise, Hannah had just sent a halo emoji in return. Thankfully she apparently hadn't told Joseph about the exchange, and Joseph didn't seem to suspect exactly what she had been thinking about while trying out her new toy.

 

Or who.

 

They both focused on drinking their tea before Belle blurted out, “I saw him last night.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Francis. He…he was in your backyard.” Close enough, at least.

 

Joseph rolled his eyes, “Drama king. He left you alone though, didn't he?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Good.” He frowned, concern replacing irritation, “He must be feeling particularly guilty, if he didn't just stroll inside.”

 

As he should be… But Belle suspected his guilt was less about her and more about his behavior towards his spouses.

 

“Hannah said she thinks I…stirred up some old ghosts,” she offered.

 

Joseph nodded, “Sounds about right.” He hesitated, thinking his words over carefully. “He told me once, about the first time he was betrayed. The man was willing to die to try and kill him and Francis… Francis internalized that as choosing death over being with him. I know, I know,” he waved away her disbelief, “But those were his feelings. We're not dealing with the most sensible human beings here. I…don't think it's a stretch to assume he took the confrontation as us choosing you over him.”

 

Belle shook her head in amazement, “That's absurd.”

 

Joseph shrugged, “And maybe he's realizing that, now that he’s calmed down. The years he’s been alone or stabbed in the back greatly outnumber the years he's been loved and safe. His emotions run deep and what few insecurities he has he’s quick to hide… Sometimes even from us.”

 

Belle tried to wrap her head around the logic. This must be why Joseph sounded half insane whenever he tried to explain them; he was translating psychopath-to-normal-person. His husband was jealous that he and their wife had decided that maybe their neighbor should live instead of letting him go about his murdery business. No wonder he was so worried about treachery if he was so divorced from reality.

 

“But Hannah behaved herself otherwise?” Joseph asked hopefully.

 

Belle rolled her eyes, “As much as can be expected from her.”

 

“Could've been worse. At least there's no strip clubs nearby.” Joseph paused as his brain caught up with his words, then looked panicked as if the thought of Maine having a strip club hadn't occurred to him and now he had jinxed himself.

 

Belle did her best to hold back a laugh, then tilted her head thoughtfully, “You know Hannah did mention a particular…fascination of yours.”

 

He went scarlet, looking anywhere but at her, “You know what? I don't think you two should be friends after all.”

 

“It wasn't baaaaad,” she insisted, “Just that you might be a fan of…certain types of erotic performances.”

 

“You know what they have a fascination with??? Tricking me into going to strip clubs with them!” He slashed his arm through the air, “I will never let them take me anywhere near Amsterdam again.”

 

A giggle slipped out, “Red Light District?” She guessed.

 

“ Yes! ” Joseph finally looked at her again, so distraught she wanted to hug him and reassure him everything was alright, “Is that something everyone knows???”

 

And now she was back to blushing, “I don't think everyone knows…”

 

“Just the perverts.” His eyes widened as he realized the implication and Belle laughed.

 

“Well I suppose that applies to me.”

 

Joseph disappeared, sinking below the counter as if to hide. Unfortunately the display case had a glass backing so he was not hidden at all.

 

“You should go, before I say anything worse,” he whimpered.

 

Belle crouched down, waiting until he met her eye. She then smiled and waved at him, “Bye Joseph.”

 

“Bye Belle,” he mumbled before curling into a ball.

 

She stood back up and made her way out of the shop, warm and tingly from the interaction. She paused to flip his sign to “closed” as Belle wasn't sure how long he was going to spend in his armadillo pose.

 

The snow that had started in the morning had significantly picked up and Belle had most of the afternoon to herself. She carefully drove home and was less surprised than she ought to be to find a couple emergency kits on her dining room table and far more food in her fridge and pantry than she remembered. Well at least the break-ins were getting more thoughtful…

 

I appreciate the gifts but could you please ask before going into my house? She texted Hannah.

 

She didn't respond for a long time, to the point Belle assumed she was ignoring the message. She finally texted back a couple hours later.

 

will try hey wood u mind watchin Grace overnite Caleb and i r gonna hunt down the drama king 🙏🙏❤️🫶😅🥰🙄🐾🔪🔪🐺😅🫥😘🫶

 

Belle didn't even have to think, Of course ❤️

 

thankuthankuthanku packing her up 👶💖⛅

 

Belle quickly did a run through of her home and, while it wasn't a kid's paradise, it would do for a single night. Besides, even in this weather they were right next door should Grace need anything. Twenty minutes later, she heard a much more subdued knock than she was used to. 

 

She opened the front door to Hannah holding Grace, who had her arms around her mother's neck and her face buried in her shoulder. 

 

Hannah gave an apologetic wince, “Sorry I’m handing off a grumpy gopher, been a Big Feelings day. Sweetie, can you look at me?” Grace lifted her head obediently. “You behave for Belle, alright? Daddy will pick you up in the morning, and then you two will FaceTime me and Dad.”

 

Grace's face scrunched up, ready for a fit, but instead she merely nodded.

 

“That's my good girl.” Hannah leaned in, rubbing the tip of her nose against Grace's, “Squish squish squish.”

 

Grace gave the tiniest of smiles at the gesture, doing it back to her, “Squish squish squish.”

 

She set Grace down, “Call or text if something comes up. We shouldn't be out long.” She then looked Belle in the eye, “Depending on how it goes, Francis and I will be leaving late tonight or early tomorrow, get ahead of the worst of it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Mommy and Dad get cabin fever,” Grace explained, “So Daddy kicks them out before they drive him nuts. I think it's stupid, but I don't get a say in this matter.”

 

…dear god. Somehow Belle hadn't considered the implications of a snow-in for the MacAvoy family. She stared at Hannah who just shrugged.

 

“Better safe than sorry,” she hugged Grace, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Gracie. Love you.”

 

Grace half-heartedly hugged her back and mumbled something that could have been “love you too”.

 

Belle rolled in her mini suitcase and Grace dutifully shook and stamped off as much snow as she could before stepping inside. Belle then helped her strip off her winter jacket, hat, gloves and boots.

 

“Well this is exciting, isn't it?” Belle said, “I slept over at your house and now you get to come sleep over at mine! Did you pack your dolls?”

 

Grace gave a small nod but didn't immediately launch into an itinerary for the evening. Belle reached over and stroked her arm.

 

“Rough day?”

 

Grace nodded again, “Not ready to talk yet.”

 

“Alright. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

 

She considered, “...can I have a blankie and a curl-up spot?”

 

“Absolutely, you can even have my favorite curl-up spot.”

 

Belle took her to her reading chair, an oversized papasan that probably wasn't good for her back, but was incredibly comfortable. She found a blanket that was both cozy and wouldn't completely bury the poor girl and tucked her in.

 

“Is it alright if I check on you in thirty minutes?” She asked and Grace nodded.

 

Belle kept an eye on the clock while she made up the guest room for Grace. Once a half hour had passed, Belle went back to the living room. Grace was holding something, a toy more than likely. She looked up as Belle entered, Joseph's eyes somehow even more like a puppy's set into his daughter's face.

 

“Can we cuddle please?” She asked.

 

It was Belle's turn to nod.

 

She gently moved Grace to make enough room to curl around her, and Grace shifted so she could drape the blanket over both of them. She burrowed into Belle’s side as naturally as if she were one of her parents, and just as instinctively Belle stroked Grace's hair. She looked down at her toy, a canine-esque wooden carving. It was unpolished, rough and lacked detail, but Grace pet it as lovingly as if it were a real creature.

 

“My anger dog got out,” she said softly.

 

Belle was familiar with the analogy Joseph came up with in an attempt to explain in a simple way the complexities of domestic abuse. Grace had latched onto it as a way to describe her struggles with her own temper. Belle stayed quiet, letting her explain at her own pace.

 

“...Mommy and I had a fight. I said I didn't want her stupid hot chocolate and smashed a mug on the floor. I knocked over and threw other stuff… I was not nice at all but she kept her anger dog under control. She forgave me but…sometimes you need to think about your mistakes a bit, make sure you learn from them.”

 

“That's a very mature way to look at it,” she praised, “Do you know why you got upset about the hot chocolate?”

 

“...because she doesn't make it like Dad does,” she mumbled.

 

That fit with what she had seen. There was no lack of love between Grace and any of her parents, but it was clear her and Francis had a special bond. He doted on her and she followed after him like a shadow. Of course his absence would be upsetting, even without knowing the truth.

 

“He made me this and snuck it on my pillow while I was sleeping, so I’d know he was okay.” She held the figure up, showing it to Belle rear first, her voice gravelly, “I broke its tail off.”

 

“Do you still have it?” Belle asked, “I’m sure we can glue it back on.”

 

“It won't be the same.” She clutched it to her chest as if to apologize to it, “I don't have all the words for my feelings, they're just…a lot. And I'm small, so it hurts to keep so many inside, and I burst. I'm trying though.”

 

“I know you are, Grace.” She wrapped her arms around the poor girl, “I wish I could tell you the big feelings get easier but they don't. You have such a head start though; a lot of grown-ups don’t even try, they just ignore them.”

 

“How do you deal with the big feelings?” She asked.

 

“I cry,” she said honestly, “I let the feelings have their time. I’ll even say to myself “you have one hour to get it all out, then you have to move on”. I keep myself busy so I don't dwell on them-”

 

“What's “dwell”?”

 

“In this case, it means to think too much about. I also go back to my favorite books or movies to comfort myself.”

 

“Could we watch one of your comfort movies?” Grace asked.

 

Belle grinned, “I think I know one you’ll like.”

 

She made them a bowl of popcorn and they curled up under the blanket on the couch. Grace was hooked from the reveal that “as you wish” was code for “I love you”, and it was a delight to watch one of Belle’s favorite movies through fresh eyes.

 

The house had never seen such peace; any tranquility had been when Belle was alone, and even that came at the cost of loneliness. If Gaston had enough of a corporeal form, he’d be rolling in his grave at the sight of Belle casually babysitting the neighbor’s daughter and contemplating her reproductive future. It was still light-years away from reality but… She couldn't deny how right it felt to be taking care of Grace.

 

She glanced at the arm of the sofa as her phone lit up and saw “Caleb” had texted.

 

Drama king now in custody 🙄 Roads aren't great, they're thinking early morning now. How's Grace?

 

Good ☺️ We’re watching “The Princess Bride”, so don't be alarmed if she runs around shouting “Humperdink” 😂

 

What??? A couple minutes passed before he sent a follow-up. Helena explained, and continues to be amazed at Joe and I’s lack of pop culture knowledge. 🙄 Another minute passed before another text. We have been threatened with being forced to watch it now, thanks.

 

It's a classic, I think you’ll like it ☺️ How are you doing?

 

There was a long pause before he replied. Bit much to text, we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah? But I'm okay, we’re all okay.

 

“Are you texting Daddy?”

 

Flustered, Belle set the phone down, “Yes, ah, he was just letting me know they were on their way home with your dad.”

 

“Can you tell him I love them, please?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Grace sends her love to all of you ❤️❤️❤️

 

If you feel comfortable, could you give her three kisses on the top of her head please?

 

Belle bent down and kissed Grace's head three times as directed. Grace beamed up at her and she knew the message had been received loud and clear.

 

Out of all the ways the MacAvoys had woken her up, Grace whisper-singing was probably her favorite.

 

“Au-drey is, the pretti-est kit-ty, the pretti-est kit-ty, in the whole wide cit-ty. With her fluff-y tail and her big green eeeeeeyes, Au-drey iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis… The pretti-est kit-ty.”

 

Belle peeked down at the foot of her bed the morning after their sleepover. Grace was kneeling on the floor in front of the old curmudgeon, petting her ever so gently. Audrey was…tolerating the attention, which was quite the declaration of love for her. Grace whispered to her a few things Belle couldn't hear, though Audrey's slow blink back made Grace beam.

 

Grace glanced up worriedly as Belle opened her eyes and sat up, “Sorry, I was trying to be quiet, but it's hard to sing quiet, which I guess is why people hum, but then Audrey wouldn't know the words to her song.”

 

“You didn't wake me,” Belle lied, drawing her knees up, “How did you sleep?”

 

“Alright, I guess. I woke up very confused until I remembered we were having a sleepover.” She looked Belle in the eye, face dead serious, “We’re going to have to resort to cannibalism though.”

 

Belle gave a nervous laugh, “Why do you say that?”

 

She pointed at the window in answer.

 

Belle stood up and pulled the curtain back to see several inches had accumulated overnight, and the snow fall was still going strong. Her heart sank as she realized how impossible leaving town would be in this weather.

 

“I’m not going to eat Audrey,” Grace informed her, “But if it comes down to it, I will eat you, but I’ll cry a lot about having to.”

 

“Let's see what we have for breakfast and go from there, hm?” Belle suggested.

 

“Okay,” Grace leaned forward and slowly, carefully, gave Audrey a forehead kiss before standing up.

 

Audrey did not claw her face off, which meant Grace was in danger of replacing Belle as #1 Human Audrey Hates the Least. But Belle still had the advantage as the food and treat provider.

 

She checked her phone as Grace decided the best way to go down the stairs was crawling.

 

Morning 😊 Need you to lie to Grace when she asks about FaceTiming, say you don't have it.

 

Belle wasn't sure that was a lie; she had an Android and hadn't tested to see how video calling worked with it.

 

Why?

 

Tell you later. Let me know when you're alone and I mean ALONE. Little one has an eavesdropping problem, you have to check thoroughly she's distracted.

 

That was certainly going to be a problem for them… Speaking from her own experience, Grace was in for a rude awakening if she continued to try and eavesdrop.

 

Grace was very polite about the pancakes Belle made for them, but clearly they weren't up to snuff. At least whatever big feelings she had been dealing with yesterday were smaller today, though as soon as they were done eating she was asking about FaceTime. 

 

“I don't know if my phone can do video calls, Grace.”

 

She would have preferred to be challenged over the absolutely devastated look on Grace's face, “But… It's harder to tell my daddies apart when it's a regular call…”

 

No wonder this child got everything she wanted. Belle sighed, “Maybe we can figure something out, alright? I'm going to go take a shower, will you be alright for a little bit?”

 

Grace nodded, “Do you have a brush for Audrey? She needs a spa day.”

 

Despite the fear that she was pushing her luck with the cat’s tolerance, Belle got her Audrey's brush and then went to take a quick shower. She did not immediately check on Grace afterwards, taking Joseph's advice and making sure she was alone alone.

 

You up for a call? She texted.

 

Moments later her phone rang and she answered it.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hi.” The word came out as an oddly guilty wheeze, “I’m sorry if my text was alarming, I just…have to be careful, what's in writing.”

 

“That makes sense.” She leaned back against the bathroom counter, "So, what's wrong with video calling?”

 

“The thing is…” Joseph trailed off and she could practically hear him squirming, “...Francis has a habit of destroying any turtlenecks I get and it would look strange if I was wearing a scarf indoors.”

 

“Why would you…” She trailed off, grotesque images of chunks being torn off of him going through her mind.

 

“Things, ah, got heated last night, in the good way,” he confessed, “Stop me if I go too far but ah, Francis, ah… He likes to… I can't even really call them hickies, too severe… He doesn't break skin but he gets about as fucking close as someone can…”

 

Belle rubbed her cheeks as if to rid them of her blush, “I see. But…you're okay?”

 

“Yeah. It's…not going to be a quick shift, his feelings towards you, but at least we're out of the homicidal range and back into petty territory. You won't have to watch your back, but expect your bookshelves to be rearranged a minimum of three times before he catches up to Hannah's maturity. God, I just uttered the phrase “Hannah's maturity” unironically…”

 

Belle rolled her eyes, “...but you’ll be alright, over there, with them?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve seen them much worse off,” he said, oddly confident, “It won't be too dire unless we're stuck for a couple weeks. Even then, worst case scenario they- Nevermind.”

 

“No, tell me,” she said firmly.

 

“...they’ll eat one another,” he mumbled, “It sounds bad but these freaks regularly take bites out of each other… Heal up completely in a day, two days tops…” 

 

Belle cringed at the image but, well, better them than Joseph. Hopefully it wouldn't even come that close to desperate…

 

Joseph took a deep breath, “We would really appreciate it if you could look after Grace for a few days, just to play it absolutely safe.”

 

“Of course,” Belle agreed, “She’s really missing Francis though…”

 

“Oh he misses her just as much. Maybe she can video chat with the two of them in a bit. Right now they're…occupied.”

 

“Right. Well you stay safe over there, okay?”

 

“Safe as can be. Good luck with Grace.”

 

Belle snorted, “I don't think I’ll need as much luck as you.”

 

He chuckled, “You say that now… We’ll see how you feel after 72 hours of cooped-up wendigo spawn.”

 

She smiled into the receiver, “Bye Joseph.”

 

“Bye Belle.” The way her name rolled off his tongue…

 

She was blushing again as she hung up. This crush was really getting out of hand; sure she had the blessing of the wife, but the husband could barely tolerate being in the same room as her. It was a very bad idea to want to get closer to Joseph before his superpowered cannibal spouse was comfortable with it…

 

…honestly it was a very bad idea to stay in Storybrooke knowing there were two wendigos skulking about. But it was the far more interesting path to take, getting into the good graces of serial killers and their pet humans. The MacAvoys were layered…a mystery to be uncovered. And Belle did enjoy a good mystery.

Notes:

Heckyeah, seems like we CAN use emojis in fics. Prepare for chaotic Hiero texts.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 8 of Eden's Ark Saga