Mark slowly walked down the half-empty streets of Storybrooke, hands jammed in his coat pockets as a million thoughts were rushing through his mind. He felt his anger boil once again at Henry, anger that the young man would dare call him by the same name that had been haunting him for nights on end now.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Mark stopped to rub his hands down his face, feeling his shoulder start to flare up worse than usual, most likely caused by his restless sleep coupled with stress.
Reaching inside his coat to grab his pill bottle, Mark let a quiet curse escape his lips as he realized he left them at home in haste to follow Henry to the library. Letting out a deep breath, Mark put a hold on his anger and hastily adjusted his pace to make his way back home. Maybe it was just a reminder he needed some time to relax for a bit; what with all that's been going on, he had little time to himself anymore.
Accompanied only by the sounds of his own breathing, and his heavy shoes on the sidewalk, Mark's house had just come into view when suddenly, an unseen force, wielding the strength of a freight train seemed to crash into him, sending him forcefully to the ground.
Ignoring the searing pain that came from his skinned hands, Mark was about to see who, or what had hit him when a flood of memories all began hitting him at once. Voices began to fill his mind, overlapping each other in a sea of muddled confusion as visions, memories began replaying themselves in front of him. And he knew them...
Mark saw himself, dressed in work clothes and holding a woodcutters axe in hand, holding his hand out to shake another's, a friendly smile crossing his bearded face as he introduced himself, "Name's Nick Chopper, it's a pleasure to meet you."
*~*
He saw the woman from his dreams, his wife, Catherine walk up to him, a fond look in her eyes as she caressed his cheek with one hand, the other placed on a rather obvious bump on her stomach. "Just a few more months..." She said to him, her voice ghostly in effect.
*~*
Time seemed to jump past in front of him, as next he was standing inside his small college, looking over his wife who was practically drenched in sweat, a heavy tiredness in her eyes as an unseen man placed something swaddled in blankets into her arms while saying, "It's a boy..."
"A boy..." Mark saw himself say, hushed veneration in his tone as a wide smile broke out on his lips as he looked down at his son, his boy.
"Oh, Nicholas...what are we going to name him?" Catherine asked quietly, looking up at her husband with a soft expression.
Mark saw his expression become curious for a few moments, as if thinking the decision over before answering, "How about Mason...?"
*~*
The scene rapidly switched on him again, the images turning into a blur before landing a few years later, with Mark seeing himself put on a flat cap in preparation for a journey; slinging his axe on his back.
"Papa! Papa!" A young voice called out to Nick Chopper as he turned around to find the source, a short lad, no older than five running up to him. "Mason! I thought I told you to stay with your mother?" Nick reprimanded seriously, though his eyes remained warm and kind.
"I want to go with you..." The boy objected quietly, hugging a homely stuffed dog toy to his chest tightly, as if fearful it might run off.
"Ohhh, I see..." Nick Chopper responded, crouching down so he was at eye-level with his son. "You know you can't come with me, Son...you're *just* not old enough, yet. And I need you here to take care of your mama for me. Do you think you can do that?" He asked patiently, taking time to brush some hair away from the boy's face.
Mason nodded soberly, furiously scrubbing away tears that threatened to stream down his cheeks. "Good. I love you, boy." Nick said as a farewell, kissing Mason on the forehead before rising once again, following a small crew of three others into the woods.
*~*
The scene jumped once more, now taking place a year or two later, the entire population of the village was gathered outside as an intimidating, green-skinned woman walked amongst the villagers; who flinched back in fear at her presence.
"I am in need of a new servant! And one of you diseased cretins will have to do." The woman said cruelly, looking in-between all who had gathered with a sharp eye. "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe..." She said quietly, under her breath, though loud enough for those in the crowd to hear.
Finally, she shot a hand out, pointing at a single member of the group. "I want her, bring her to me." The woman called impatiently as Catherine stepped forward, a truly frightened look in her eyes as she kept her head held downwards.
"Yes, you'll do *perfectly*." The green-skinned woman said in a voice that was almost cheery.
"Stay away from her." A voice called out warningly as Nick, himself pushed through the crowd, an angered look in his eyes.
The woman couldn't help but laugh haughtily, pointing to herself mockingly as if to add emphasis to his outrageous statement. "What? You mean me?" She asked, tauntingly. "I don't think so." She added on, her tone becoming more serious now.
Nick, with sudden haste, grabbed his axe and charged at the woman, holding it up to strike. The woman merely smirked as a wave of her hand was enough to freeze Nick in place with magic, an obscure, unnoticeable glow radiating off his axe blade for just a split-second.
"My, my, quite pesky. You know, this could have been very easy...but you had to go and make things complicated." The woman lectured in an almost singsong voice, her eyes kept peeled on Nick. "But don't let me tell you how badly you've erred...let your loved one do it for you." The woman added before promptly plunging her hand into Catherine's chest, a dark grin forming on her lips as she knew that there was absolutely nothing Nick could do but watch the torment.
Catherine made a pained groaning sound as the Witch pulled her heart out of her chest, holding it in her hand like one would a delicate artifact before giving it a sharp squeeze, causing the young woman to fall on her knees in pain; tears streaming down her face. "Please..." She managed to say amidst pained wheezes and short breaths.
"Aww...does it hurt? Here, let me take care of that for you." The woman assured in a calm voice before squeezing Catherine's heart in her hand forcefully, applying more and more pressure until the heart crumbled to sand and dust in the Witch's hand.
A scream rang out from amongst the crowd of still villagers, who could only look on, horrified, as Catherine fell dead; the life fleeing from her body before she could even hit the ground.
"Bring me their next of kin!" The Witch cried out amongst the villagers, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground as a single, unwilling villager brought Mason forward, the boy kicking and screaming all the way as tears poured down his face, calling desperately for his papa to come save him.
"Hmm....well, I'll find some use for you." The Witch said nonchalantly before causing Mason to fall into a deep sleep with a wave of her hand.
Lifting the boy up off the ground in her arms, Zelena took one last moment to point at Catherine's still body on the ground. "Let that be a lesson for you *all*." She warned lastly before climbing on her magic broomstick and flying off into the air...
Nick Chopper felt the spell dissipate off him, but it didn't matter. All he could do was stare at the lifeless body of his wife, his hands cupping his face as he slowly fell to his knees, dropping his axe haphazardly to the ground.
The other villagers watched Nick with varied expressions of guilt, sadness, and pain. Nick slowly crawled over to his wife's body on the ground, letting his hand run over her face to close her eyes, his own landing on the silver heart-shaped locket around her neck...the same one that he bought her in the early days of their marriage.
With gentle hands, Nick unhooked the locket from around Catherine's neck, cupping the jewelry in his hands as he let out his grief...
Mark sat silently in the middle of the streets, hunched over as a sense of loss so profound caused him to lose his touch with reality. Hands shaking as tears began to creep down his cheeks, Mark could barely hold onto his composure as memory upon memory, thought upon thought of his loss and his failures crept back into his mind.
His throat tightened painfully, making it difficult to breathe as he finally let loose all the pain and anguish he had been holding in without knowing it. His body racked with choking sobs, Mark let the tears flow as they would, both unable and unwilling to hold them back anymore. Never had he felt so lost, or so alone in his entire life.
A distant sound of thunder seemed to slowly bring him back from the brink of hysteria as Mark wiped the tears from his eyes, seeing a large purple cloud that seemed to sweep through Storybrooke.
Not moving from his spot on the street, Mark closed his red, bloodshot eyes; and let the smoke come as it would...
Letting out a heavy sigh, Mark stopped to rub his hands down his face, feeling his shoulder start to flare up worse than usual, most likely caused by his restless sleep coupled with stress.
Reaching inside his coat to grab his pill bottle, Mark let a quiet curse escape his lips as he realized he left them at home in haste to follow Henry to the library. Letting out a deep breath, Mark put a hold on his anger and hastily adjusted his pace to make his way back home. Maybe it was just a reminder he needed some time to relax for a bit; what with all that's been going on, he had little time to himself anymore.
Accompanied only by the sounds of his own breathing, and his heavy shoes on the sidewalk, Mark's house had just come into view when suddenly, an unseen force, wielding the strength of a freight train seemed to crash into him, sending him forcefully to the ground.
Ignoring the searing pain that came from his skinned hands, Mark was about to see who, or what had hit him when a flood of memories all began hitting him at once. Voices began to fill his mind, overlapping each other in a sea of muddled confusion as visions, memories began replaying themselves in front of him. And he knew them...
Mark saw himself, dressed in work clothes and holding a woodcutters axe in hand, holding his hand out to shake another's, a friendly smile crossing his bearded face as he introduced himself, "Name's Nick Chopper, it's a pleasure to meet you."
*~*
He saw the woman from his dreams, his wife, Catherine walk up to him, a fond look in her eyes as she caressed his cheek with one hand, the other placed on a rather obvious bump on her stomach. "Just a few more months..." She said to him, her voice ghostly in effect.
*~*
Time seemed to jump past in front of him, as next he was standing inside his small college, looking over his wife who was practically drenched in sweat, a heavy tiredness in her eyes as an unseen man placed something swaddled in blankets into her arms while saying, "It's a boy..."
"A boy..." Mark saw himself say, hushed veneration in his tone as a wide smile broke out on his lips as he looked down at his son, his boy.
"Oh, Nicholas...what are we going to name him?" Catherine asked quietly, looking up at her husband with a soft expression.
Mark saw his expression become curious for a few moments, as if thinking the decision over before answering, "How about Mason...?"
*~*
The scene rapidly switched on him again, the images turning into a blur before landing a few years later, with Mark seeing himself put on a flat cap in preparation for a journey; slinging his axe on his back.
"Papa! Papa!" A young voice called out to Nick Chopper as he turned around to find the source, a short lad, no older than five running up to him. "Mason! I thought I told you to stay with your mother?" Nick reprimanded seriously, though his eyes remained warm and kind.
"I want to go with you..." The boy objected quietly, hugging a homely stuffed dog toy to his chest tightly, as if fearful it might run off.
"Ohhh, I see..." Nick Chopper responded, crouching down so he was at eye-level with his son. "You know you can't come with me, Son...you're *just* not old enough, yet. And I need you here to take care of your mama for me. Do you think you can do that?" He asked patiently, taking time to brush some hair away from the boy's face.
Mason nodded soberly, furiously scrubbing away tears that threatened to stream down his cheeks. "Good. I love you, boy." Nick said as a farewell, kissing Mason on the forehead before rising once again, following a small crew of three others into the woods.
*~*
The scene jumped once more, now taking place a year or two later, the entire population of the village was gathered outside as an intimidating, green-skinned woman walked amongst the villagers; who flinched back in fear at her presence.
"I am in need of a new servant! And one of you diseased cretins will have to do." The woman said cruelly, looking in-between all who had gathered with a sharp eye. "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe..." She said quietly, under her breath, though loud enough for those in the crowd to hear.
Finally, she shot a hand out, pointing at a single member of the group. "I want her, bring her to me." The woman called impatiently as Catherine stepped forward, a truly frightened look in her eyes as she kept her head held downwards.
"Yes, you'll do *perfectly*." The green-skinned woman said in a voice that was almost cheery.
"Stay away from her." A voice called out warningly as Nick, himself pushed through the crowd, an angered look in his eyes.
The woman couldn't help but laugh haughtily, pointing to herself mockingly as if to add emphasis to his outrageous statement. "What? You mean me?" She asked, tauntingly. "I don't think so." She added on, her tone becoming more serious now.
Nick, with sudden haste, grabbed his axe and charged at the woman, holding it up to strike. The woman merely smirked as a wave of her hand was enough to freeze Nick in place with magic, an obscure, unnoticeable glow radiating off his axe blade for just a split-second.
"My, my, quite pesky. You know, this could have been very easy...but you had to go and make things complicated." The woman lectured in an almost singsong voice, her eyes kept peeled on Nick. "But don't let me tell you how badly you've erred...let your loved one do it for you." The woman added before promptly plunging her hand into Catherine's chest, a dark grin forming on her lips as she knew that there was absolutely nothing Nick could do but watch the torment.
Catherine made a pained groaning sound as the Witch pulled her heart out of her chest, holding it in her hand like one would a delicate artifact before giving it a sharp squeeze, causing the young woman to fall on her knees in pain; tears streaming down her face. "Please..." She managed to say amidst pained wheezes and short breaths.
"Aww...does it hurt? Here, let me take care of that for you." The woman assured in a calm voice before squeezing Catherine's heart in her hand forcefully, applying more and more pressure until the heart crumbled to sand and dust in the Witch's hand.
A scream rang out from amongst the crowd of still villagers, who could only look on, horrified, as Catherine fell dead; the life fleeing from her body before she could even hit the ground.
"Bring me their next of kin!" The Witch cried out amongst the villagers, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground as a single, unwilling villager brought Mason forward, the boy kicking and screaming all the way as tears poured down his face, calling desperately for his papa to come save him.
"Hmm....well, I'll find some use for you." The Witch said nonchalantly before causing Mason to fall into a deep sleep with a wave of her hand.
Lifting the boy up off the ground in her arms, Zelena took one last moment to point at Catherine's still body on the ground. "Let that be a lesson for you *all*." She warned lastly before climbing on her magic broomstick and flying off into the air...
Nick Chopper felt the spell dissipate off him, but it didn't matter. All he could do was stare at the lifeless body of his wife, his hands cupping his face as he slowly fell to his knees, dropping his axe haphazardly to the ground.
The other villagers watched Nick with varied expressions of guilt, sadness, and pain. Nick slowly crawled over to his wife's body on the ground, letting his hand run over her face to close her eyes, his own landing on the silver heart-shaped locket around her neck...the same one that he bought her in the early days of their marriage.
With gentle hands, Nick unhooked the locket from around Catherine's neck, cupping the jewelry in his hands as he let out his grief...
Mark sat silently in the middle of the streets, hunched over as a sense of loss so profound caused him to lose his touch with reality. Hands shaking as tears began to creep down his cheeks, Mark could barely hold onto his composure as memory upon memory, thought upon thought of his loss and his failures crept back into his mind.
His throat tightened painfully, making it difficult to breathe as he finally let loose all the pain and anguish he had been holding in without knowing it. His body racked with choking sobs, Mark let the tears flow as they would, both unable and unwilling to hold them back anymore. Never had he felt so lost, or so alone in his entire life.
A distant sound of thunder seemed to slowly bring him back from the brink of hysteria as Mark wiped the tears from his eyes, seeing a large purple cloud that seemed to sweep through Storybrooke.
Not moving from his spot on the street, Mark closed his red, bloodshot eyes; and let the smoke come as it would...