After All These Years || Dylan and Gold

Bae had gotten caught stealing a few apples from the local pharmacy. Again. It was the second time in a week he’d gotten caught. During the curse the times he’d gotten caught were few and far in between. But now, the curse was broken and Bae was far more distracted than he’d been as Dylan. Yes, his life as Dylan was crap, but his life as Baelfire was worse. 

It had only been a week since the curse had broken and while others were rejoicing to have their memories back, Bae was lamenting. Being Dylan hadn’t been easy, but it had been simpler. Bae would choose his life as Dylan over his life as Bae in a heartbeat. It was all he’d thought about in the week since the curse had broken. How unfair everything in his life seemed to be. 

Earlier that week when he’d first gotten caught, he’d managed to run off quickly enough to avoid being dragged off to the sheriff’s station, but this time he hadn’t been as quick. Before he knew it, he was sitting in Storybrooke’s only jail cell. How could he have been so stupid as to get caught? This wouldn’t have happened last week when he was Dylan. 

Bae knew that his father could get him out of here in the blink of an eye. His father practically owned all of Storybrooke. But he’d be damned if he stooped down low enough to go begging to his father for help. He’d be perfectly pleased to never see his father again. That damned coward had left him. And if it wasn’t bad enough that he’d left him he’d created this curse.

This curse that had ripped him apart from the only life he’d ever loved. The curse that had taken him away from Neverland. The curse that had doomed him to a life in this small, wretched town. And Bobby… Wonderful, brave, gorgeous Bobby who was still in Neverland. The curse hadn’t taken him… Bae wasn’t an idiot. He knew his chances of ever seeing Bobby again were slim to none. It was yet another thing to add to his long list of reasons to be bitter against his father. 

Bae had been sulking in a corner of the cell for a little over an hour now. He wasn’t worried, only bored. Storybrooke didn’t have a jail and they couldn’t send him away. The worst they could do was lock him up for a few days. He could handle a few days of boredom. 

As he got to the four hundred and fifth bottle of beer on the wall, though, Emma opened up his cell door and told him he was free to go. “Someone paid your bail, kid.” she said, motioning for him to leave. “And I better not see you here again,” 

Bae rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll be sure to run faster next time.” he muttered. He wondered who’d paid his bail. One of the boys, perhaps? No… they could barely afford to feed themselves, let alone pay bail. His father wouldn’t have known he was here… would he? 

His question was answered when he saw his father near the door, seemingly unsure whether to approach him or not. Emma slinked off into her office, knowing it would be unwise to be stuck in the middle of this confrontation. Bae stiffened and his jaw tightened. “You.. You know what? I’d much rather be in the cell. Thanks, anyways,” he growled, taking a few steps back.