¡Tink! (tinkhatespink) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-08-17 08:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, neal cassidy (baelfire), tinkerbell |
Who: Tinkerbell and Neal Cassidy
When: Sunday Morning, August 17
Where: Neal's Place
What: Tink had a Once Upon a Time dream, and wanted to talk to Neal about it.
Rating/Warnings: Low/None (some kissing at the end, but it's adorable.)
Status: Complete
It was a really, really weird dream. And Tink knew from weird dreams. She’d been having them for… years now, it felt like. It was probably only actually a year or so, but since she’d had so many, she’d dreamed so much, it felt like another life. She had parallel memories… almost. Her life was so different than the one in her Dreams, it was easy to compartmentalize. This world was not Pixie Hollow. Her memories here and there were distinct. Separate.
But last night she dreamed of a place that wasn’t Pixie Hollow. She dreamed of an island, of people she knew in this world. Perhaps it was the whole day spent with Neal yesterday, taking care of that little girl and fishing in the Derby, but… she dreamed about him. It was weird, and she couldn’t figure out where it fit in with the rest of her Dreams.
Tink knew she had to talk to Neal about this. She’d seen him. It was him. She may look slightly different in this world than she did in that dream, but Neal didn’t. He was the same. He was in her dreams. Or… maybe she was in his? Before work she hopped on her bike and headed to his place. Her helmet was under her arm as she knocked on his door.
On Sunday morning, Neal could be found doing a few things - alright, actually, no. That was a lie. He could be found passed out cold, dead to the world. It was the one day he got to sleep in, and any crap to do around the apartment or errands he hadn’t gotten done yesterday could wait until the afternoon. So the knocking on the door? That was kind of a surprise. Wasn’t like he was expecting anyone.
“Ffffff...” the growly bear made a noise, and he managed to stumble out of bed, zombie-navigating the stairs in his loft apartment without tripping and breaking any bones, and when he got to the door - shirtless - he hitched up the slagging plaid pajama pants that were down by his hipbones.
Bleary-eyed and scruffy, with bedhead, he greeted his visitor. “Tink? What’s wrong?” The sight of her actually woke him up a bit. “Come on in.”
The sight of Neal sort of… okay, well, half? naked… It very nearly made Tink’s eyes bug out of her skull. She tried her best to keep it in check, though. As much as she wanted to gape at him, she had more pressing matters to address. “Oh, God, Sorry, did I wake you?” She asked, noting the bedhead and pajama pants. “I didn’t… what time is it, even?” She pulled her phone from her pocket to check the time.
“Oh, shit, Neal, I’m sorry. I can go.” It was way earlier than she’d thought. Too early for someone who didn’t have to work on a Sunday. Tink had to be in by ten. She wasn’t lucky enough to have Sundays off.
“No, it’s fine, it’s good,” Neal insisted, waving her in. The heel of his hand went to his eye, rubbing a bit of sleep from the depths there, and he held back a yawn. Caffeine would fix this situation, and thank the gods for the brew he had - nothing fancy, just Dunkin Donuts because it was one of his favorite store-bought kinds.
When he got to the kitchen, bare feet shuffling along the cold floor, he began the ‘just roused from hibernation’ mechanical process of brewing coffee - taking out the bag, turning on the machine, things he could (and did) do while eighty-percent asleep. “You want some breakfast or something?” he asked Tink, his voice more gravelly than usual, like he’d gargled with pebbles. “Eggs, or...pancakes?” Neal could handle pancakes. From the box of Bisquick, but still edible pancakes nonetheless.
“I didn’t even look at the clock, I just… I had to see you,” Tink said, closing the door behind herself. She remembered how nice Neal’s place was, and kicked her shoes off by the door. She dropped her helmet, too, before following him into the kitchen. “Sure. Whatever you want. I’ll have whatever you’re having, I just…”
She leaned against a counter once she’d caught up with him, folding her arms across her chest. Her wings moved slightly under her clothes out of the way. “...I had this weird Dream last night. Like, a Dream dream. Dream with a capital D.”
While the coffee brewed, Neal stuck a few pieces of bread into the toaster and then opened the fridge to take out the eggs and milk. He was coming out of his sleep coma, now much more awake and alert - if still half naked and in need of a comb. The bedhead looked sort of adorable, maybe? “Scrambled okay? Or do you want them another way?” he asked Tink, but he was focused on the dreams a second later. Weirdness was a staple at this point, and he’d been experiencing his lion’s share of it. Ever since he went over to Emma’s for spiked hot chocolate and she dropped a few bombshells - namely about his son that he apparently didn’t know about and also that he’d done a lot of completely out of character things in these shitty dreams. He wasn’t looking forward to getting to that part at all, but in a way, maybe it would also clear up a lot too.
“What happened in your dream?”
Okay, the bedhead was absolutely adorable. And he looked good without a shirt. In his plaid pajama pants that hugged his hips. She wondered for a moment if he had any idea how sexy that looked. But she couldn’t focus on that now, she had to tell him about her Dream.
“Whatever you like.” Tink said. She’d pretty much eat anything. Though she’d have to get him a toaster that would put fun character faces on his toast. Again, something to think about later. “...we were in Neverland. And I was human sized. You were there.” She said, staring at him as he moved about the kitchen. “You’ve never been in my Dreams before. I’ve never been human sized before.”
The coffee was ready, the smell of it roasting giving Neal another much-needed jolt, and he poured two cups worth from the pot - nice and hot and fresh. “Oh, so...what?” he chuckled, voice still thick from sleep, but he always sounded a bit panther-like anyway. “I was in your dream? What were we doing in Neverland?”
And why did he have the strangest feeling he’d be stuck in Neverland for way too long? Already he was pretty sure he was sick of it; his mind kept replaying the same dreams of him on the Jolly Roger, swordfighting and being taught how to navigate by the stars, being taught how to sail and tie knots. He and Hook would be awake for hours after the rest of the crew were asleep in their bunks, just the two of them in the crow’s nest working on knots. It was actually kind of nice for young Baelfire, which meant ultimately it’d have to come to an abrupt end.
"You took Peter Pan's shadow. And I'm supposed to help you stop Pan. You and Hook and Emma... Snow White and her charming prince. God, this feels so weird to say." Tink said and lifted both hands to run through her hair. "I know it's crazy, but it feels like the other kind of Dreams. I mean, the kind that gave me these." She stepped into the kitchen, took off her jacket, and lifted her wings to give them a little flutter.
“Stop Pan do what?” Neal asked, letting his coffee cool a little while he scrambled the eggs in a large frying pan. None of this was making any sense, especially considering he was still a fifteen-year-old kid in his own dreams. People were apparently getting them in weird order or out of whack from the way he was, so all he had to go on was word of mouth and a lot of ‘he said, she said’ stuff.
He was about to mention something else when he sort of went agape at the sight of Tink’s wings. Dark eyes widened, nearly falling out of his skull, and he froze with the spoon in his hand - luckily it was wood and not plastic or else it’d be pressed for too long to a sizzling pan. “Holy shit.”
Yeah, he knew she had them. It had been discussed on the network, and she’d kept them under wraps at the fishing derby yesterday. But seeing them? “That’s pretty amazing,” was all he could say, with an eye-crinkling grin, then scraped the eggs from the skillet and turned off the stovetop. “Did you try flying?”
“No.” Tink said, shaking her head. It felt good to have them out, actually. She hung her jacket on the back of a chair and sighed. He was the first person to see her wings. It made her feel both vulnerable and closer to him for some reason. That thought made her flush. “Not yet. I’ve got Pixie Dust, though, and I’ve decided that I will, but I haven’t yet.”
The idea that she couldn’t fly, and yet had these huge wings, was really intimidating. Really depressing. Then again, the idea that she could fly, that was exhilarating--but terrifying. What if she got caught? What if she fell?? Not knowing was the easiest of her options. Though, she knew she couldn’t go on not knowing forever.
“I called you Bae. Though, you said other people call you Neal. So. I don’t know what that means.” She shrugged her shoulders, then moved to sip some coffee. It was too hot and bitter, so she set it back down. “Needs sugar.”
“Maybe do it someplace safe, not too high?” Neal suggested. She didn’t have to jump off a twenty-story building for her first attempt at flying. “We could go to the park after hours. There are trees and equipment there.” And if Tink took a tumble off of a slide or something, it wouldn’t be too bad. “Start with getting used to them and maybe figuring out how to lift yourself...” he continued, grabbing the toast when it was done. Yeah, that seemed like a better plan than taking the plunge right away, so to speak.
He knew in his dreams that green pixie dust was for flight, but he wasn’t sure if fairies even needed it to fly anyway. Didn’t they just use their wings? It must be different in Tink’s Pixie Hollow place. “I’m still Baelfire, at the point I’m at,” Neal shrugged. He smiled crookedly, rummaging in the fridge for butter and jelly. “You must have known me when I was a kid. That’s kind of weird.”
Hopefully everything would make more sense soon. Because as it was now, it was giving him a headache.
“What do you want on your toast?” he asked, his brain itchy with the new information and also because of what Emma had told him.
“Whatever you like,” Tink said. “Butter?” She moved over to see if she could help with anything. She could stir eggs, or whatever? But she realised that he had it under control. Awkwardly, she stood for a moment in his way, then finally moved again.
“I’m sorry if it’s too weird,” she apologised. As if a relationship under normal circumstances wasn’t difficult enough, now they had all this shit to deal with. Had Tink known Bae when he was a kid? She must have. She wasn’t sure, the memory from the dream was so fuzzy. She vividly remembered meeting him in the woods with his coconut, but what happened before then? It was a blur.
“Where’s your sugar?” She would take him up on his offer to go to the park. Maybe it would be easier to try with someone there to back her up? Keeping it low to the ground and simple… that was the only way to go.
Right, sugar. Right. She’d needed that before, hadn’t she? “Sorry, I...sorry,” Neal stammered, passing over a small canister of the stuff. He didn’t need any in his coffee, he tended to drink it black, and his mind was a little foggy anyway just because of, well, everything. “And don’t apologize, I’m glad I get to see you in the dreams. Eventually. I’m just not there yet.”
It’d be something to look forward to. A thoughtful frown on his face, he picked up a slab of butter with the knife to spread on the bread, then scooted closer - his kitchen wasn’t even that big, he didn’t mind the close proximity at all - to hand Tink a plate with eggs and toast. “I’ve just been fucked up about everything lately, because I have a son with Emma and something must have happened because she gave him up for adoption and I didn’t even know about him.”
Would he ever get to meet his son? Maybe so, if he ended up meeting David eventually too. In a weird way, Neal’s heart ached for the chance to be a father, despite it only happening in dreams. He missed the kid already and he didn’t even know him; not just that, the kid didn’t even exist in the waking world.
Thankfully, Tink was standing close against the sink when he handed her the plate. His words about his soon with Emma came as such of a surprise that the thing slipped from her fingers and fell a couple inches to the countertop. At least it didn't break, and the mess was minimal. "You have a son?"
A hand darted out and Neal caught the plate, picking it up to give it back to Tink. There wasn’t much of a mess, he’d just wipe it down later. His own plate ready, he added tabasco sauce to his eggs - just a few dashes - and then finally dared to sip on the coffee, cool enough so it didn’t burn his tongue. “Yeah,” he mumbled, and he wished he had more details to give. But this was all based on what others were telling him. “I guess he’s about eleven or twelve, based on what Emma was saying...”
Was that weird? He had to admit, it was all kind of strange for him. He’d been in love with Emma in the dreams, he knew that, even if he hadn’t seen her yet. So all of this was about to be devastating. At least he’d had a chance to prepare for it, was the bright spot. A very dim one at best.
"Sorry!" Tink said, meaning the plate. The food. She accepted it back again and this time held it with both hands. There was a lump in her throat she couldn't seem to swallow down.
"Wow. I uh... That's a lot." She had a sister in her dreams, a real one, more than her foster siblings in this world. But a child? "So... You and Emma? You two are a thing?"
“In the dreams, yeah. Or we were. I guess stuff happened, I don’t know...” Neal trailed off. The whole thing exhausted him, to be quite honest. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, because there was literally nothing to be done except overanalyze, and yet snippets had crept into his head here and there. Someone telling him he called the cops on her and ditched her without a goodbye, yeah, that was a hell of a claim. It bothered him that he had no defense at all for it, besides that it really sounded like something he wouldn’t do.
Idly, he picked at his eggs, pretty used to eating while standing at the counter by now. He did it basically every morning. “I really just want to get to know my son, most of all.”
She set the plate down carefully and put some sugar in, frowning a little at his words. She couldn't imagine having a child she didn't know.
Tink reached a hand over and rested it on his arm. For support. Or something. It was awkward, but her heart was obviously in the right place. It was just Tink awkwardness. Hard to avoid. "I'm sorry," she said, softly. "I miss people from the dreams so much sometimes that it hurts."
Neal’s hand covered hers, for a reassuring squeeze, then he balanced the plate in one hand, the other arm slinging around Tink to anchor her to him so he could kiss her temple. “It’s alright, there’s really not much we can do about it. We remember, and we’re stuck remembering, and that’s the way it is. Guess all we can do is not let it bleed over too much.”
It was easier, for him, when he wanted to put as much distance between himself and his dream father as possible. But when there was a son to add to the equation, he’d wish and wish and wish to get to know the kid. It felt like there was now a hollow part of him that only Henry could fill, and it’d remain empty because there was no other option.
And suddenly Tink was cuddled close against his side once more, her wings fluttering gently with the thundering of her heart. He kissed her temple, and her eyes fell closed at how good it felt. Having his strong, warm arm around her was good. Even if it wasn’t something she was used to.
“Yeah.” Tink said, and leaned her head against his shoulder. “We’ll just have to… not linger on it too much. Distract one another.” She said the last bit playfully. Attempting at flirtation.
Distract one another? Was that coming from sweet silver bell Tink? Neal smirked, a puff of air resembling a laugh coming from him. “Yeah, well, you’ve gotta go to work,” he pointed out, leaving another kiss and the pleasant sting that was the result of nuzzling skin with five o’clock shadow. “But come back later, and I’ll distract you pretty good.”
"Okay." Tink grinned softly, mostly to herself. She was absolutely smitten now by the man with his arm around her. And she wished she didn't have to leave. "The park, then? After work? To try out my wings?" She asked, lifting her face to look up into his eyes. He was so close to her now, and still so half naked. Her cheeks went bright pink.
“Sure,” Neal agreed in a rumble, and since Tink had her face tilted up - she looked like a little sunflower - he kissed her briefly. “I don’t have much going on today so just stop by when you’re done.” It was true. Sundays just weren’t that exciting in Chateau Cassidy. Usually laundry and putting off the dishes until the last possible minute, also known as the midnight hour, that was the extent of it.
The kiss brought a very, very bright and happy smile to Tink’s face. She nodded once. “I can do that.” Then she went up on her toes to kiss him again. More than just a brief one, though. Her wings fluttered behind her in happiness.
Another rumble left Neal, more like a pleased murmur, when Tink kissed him again. His arm slung around her, pulling her in close to him, fingers curiously tracing the edge of one of her gossamer wings - what were they even made of? Baby tears and sparkles? But he didn’t want to muss them up so his hands clasped in the space of the small of her back as he curved his lips around hers, adding another lengthy kiss.
“You’re going to distract yourself,” he warned, a smile tilting the corner of his mouth upward against hers. “And be late.”
This was... somehow much more comfortable than she'd ever felt in his arms. And his lips. Her arms had wrapped up and around him during the kiss, and one of her hands lingered on the back of his neck. "...eh, I can be late." She kissed his lips once. Twice. "God, it's nice getting distracted with you."
“Yeah, no complaints here,” he snickered in that gravelly way, his hands sliding around to rest on her hips, tracing the silhouette. Eventually Neal would have to move, for whatever reason that involved real life creeping in, but for now he was pretty content with being where he was on this particular Sunday morning.