turn back the hands of time; a recollection
уσυ мυѕт яємємвєя αℓℓ тнє ѕαмє
тнαт αт тнє ¢яυχ σƒ єνєяу gαмє
ιѕ кησωιηg ωнєη ιт'ѕ тιмє тσ ℓєανє тнє тαвℓє
I've made my peace. Funny, that word; I never thought I'd use it, even less so in that context. But there you go. I'll count my losses and focus on the winnings, and it's time to be checking out. The most important thing is we won, or will win, in the end. Keep her safe, keep him safe and keep yourself safe. That's all I ever hoped to gain from all this.
αη∂ ιт'ѕ ιмρσятαηт тσ вє αятƒυℓ ιη уσυя єχιт
ησ тυяηιηg вα¢к, уσυ мυѕт α¢¢єρт тнє ¢ση ιѕ ∂σηє
вυт ησω αη∂ тнєη, уσυ мιgнт яє¢αℓℓ
тнє мσмєηтѕ ωнєη уσυ нα∂ ιт αℓℓ
уσυ нα∂ тнє ¢нαям, уσυ нα∂ тнє тαℓєηт
αη∂, му gσ∂, уσυ нα∂ ѕσмє ƒυη
It's dark here, darker than I can remember. Maybe it's the absence of him, and of Emma and Henry. Of anyone I love or have ever loved, really. But I'm planning to change that, Papa. We'll get you back---just you wait.
There are numerous times in my life when I've felt numb, but never have I been physically unable to do anything. To stand by and watch as everything we'd finally built up again crumbles before our eyes? I'm not gonna let that rest. I couldn't for the world. It's my time to chase ghosts and idle hopes.
Doubt is the most spiteful thing. And it's times like these that remind me exactly why I shouldn't hold grudges in the first place. He's my Papa, nothing'll change that. And I think now's as good a time as any to start trusting him again.
He thinks I should be dead. I should be, shouldn't I? I'm not. And there'll be one hell of a fight before I go down, especially now that I know about the prophecy. If anyone wants to get to my son, they'll have to go through me. Anyone. That includes him; I'll be damned if I don't act like the father he should have been.
Henry and I practice swordfighting every now and again. They're wooden swords, nothing special, but the kid seems happier than ever. I can tell my father's watching us, but I don't acknowledge him. It'll take more than a little goodwill for me to forgive him. Maybe if he observes, he can learn a thing or two about fatherhood. ---That is, if I'm any good at it. I try. I try to be better than him.
Belle, I've been told, is her name. All these years, I've hoped that, if I couldn't do it, at least something or someone else would spark something inside him again, make him see a different way of living. The way he talks to her---he seems to really love her. I suppose there was something good left in him after all.
I almost lost him today. Despite our differences, I still can't bear to lose him.
The nerve to come marching back into my life like that. I finally had everything sorted out, finally had a good life, and in comes the freight train to wreck it all. He suggested using magic to make up for the lost years. I'd suggest using magic to sashay the hell out of my house.
I've found her. Despite everything, I found the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And then I lost her. If I'd been given any lessons about how to love another human being, I think they're a distant memory now. I screwed up. We all screwed up. It runs in the family.
Some nights, I lie awake in bed and listen to the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest and the breaths that come with it. And I can't help but wonder what he'd say if he was to see me now. Then I realize I don't really care. I shouldn't.
It's a good thing I learned how to survive on my own long before this. Neverland's a scary place, so they say. But once you've seen the darkness in the eyes of someone you once trusted, nothing'll scare you anymore. This is just another challenge.
I've found a home. I wasn't actively looking for one, wasn't expecting to be taken in. If my own parents wouldn't have me, who in the world would? The Darlings. They're my family now. I'll fight for them with my last breath if I have to. I'm no coward, after all.
I don't understand. He promised me---no, we made a deal. He never breaks deals. We were supposed to start fresh, together, away from all the bad things. Away from the magic that's been keeping him so sick and weak. I don't understand him. I don't understand why he did it. But I hate him for it.
I'm sad to see what he's become; if I didn't know better, I'd say he'd fallen ill. His skin grows more sickly by the day, his eyes darker---but the worst part is the shadow that looms over him. He's scared away most of our friends, and now he's starting to scare me. I just want to make him better. I just want my Papa back.
Something happened today, something very bad. I could see the change in him even before he looked me in the eye. Please---I don't want my Papa hurt.
He's hurting, but I don't understand why. I ask him; "Why are you hurting, Papa?", but all he does is put up a smile and tell me it will all be fine. We are happy, the two of us. I thought we were. Are we not?
Mama left today. I don't know where she went, but Papa says she's in a better place. I think that means she's really gone now. I can't sleep very well and wake up at night because I miss her, but Papa lights me a candle to help the bad thoughts go away. I'm glad I still have my Papa; I love my Papa.
Mama told me to stay at home and watch the house. I'm old and brave enough now, I can do that! ...It's very dark in here, though. I wonder when Papa will be home. When he comes home, he seems angry. Did I not do good? I watched the house, like I promised Mama. Maybe Papa doesn't think I'm brave enough just yet.
I got lost in the woods today while playing with Morraine. Mama yelled when Papa brought me home, then hugged me like Papa did when he found me. Maybe next time, we'll stay closer to the house.
It's my birthday today. Papa got me a whole slice of cake with a red candle on! He said Mama is out celebrating. It's dark when she comes home, and I'm already in bed, but her voice wakes me up. "Baelfire," she says, and she smells funny. "I love you, Bae." My Papa gave me cake and Mama loves me. I had a happy birthday.
Sometimes, I wonder how things would've turned out if he'd stayed and fought. Would she have stayed, if he'd returned home after a real battle, injured and traumatized? Would she have raised me on her own, had he not survived? I don't have enough memories of her to determine whether or not she would've been a good single mother.
But Papa, despite everything? He did alright in the end.
Now it's time for him to let go.
