Chapter Text
The city hadn’t really changed, it still seemed dirty, noisy, immense, and yet, as I stepped off the train, I felt that I no longer belonged here, but everything that once felt wrong about the city now felt almost endearing, I had been gone for a year, far from New York, and more importantly, far from Neal.
I never planned for it to be that long, when I left, I thought I only needed a few weeks to breathe, some space to think without his shadow beside me, but then the days turned into months, and the months into an excuse to keep moving, to keep running, to keep… free.
Just like before I met him, when I believed the world was mine as long as I never stopped anywhere, thinking I didn’t need anyone, and yet all that time away only reminded me of one thing: I had left Neal behind, without a single letter or explanation, I just left while he slept, after letting him kiss me as if I were going to stay.
I came back because my chest hurt every time I remembered his sleeping face the last time I saw him, because I dreamed of his voice even if only to hear him scold me for leaving, because I missed his clumsy laugh, the one most people found annoying but that always made me smile, I missed Neal and his way of looking at the world like it still deserved a second chance.
I came back because I was in love with him, and still couldn’t bring myself to say it.
I found him in the same apartment where we had lived, I thought he would have left to never see me again but he had stayed, which felt ironic, Neal, the man who ran from everything, had grown roots in the grayest place in the world, a damp street, a crumbling building, a home I had hated since the day I met it and that now… felt sacred, because that apartment was still his, unlike me, who no longer was.
When Neal opened the door, I had no idea what I was supposed to say, he looked different, thinner than before, maybe he had stopped eating, Neal always lost his appetite when he was sad, and I felt a twisted spark of joy thinking he might have been sad without me, but that thought died quickly, because even though he looked physically more tired and hollow, everything about him showed he was stronger than when I left.
His dark circles were deeper, but his eyes looked more alive, they had that light that comes from honest work, from effort, from exhaustion that also means pride.
When Neal saw me… he froze, he didn’t look angry, or sad, or happy, any gambler would have killed for his poker face.
"August." There was no reproach in his voice, but there wasn’t joy either, he just said my name as if the word itself hurt.
"Neal." I walked in without asking, taking advantage of how he still looked at me like a ghost, unmoving, and I hated that impulse in me that wanted to see how his life had gone on without me, and once inside the apartment I hated how much of it I remembered, how much I wanted to stay with him again, or take him away and make him abandon everything for me once more, I sat on the couch without asking, trying to distance myself from the memories of this damned place, Neal was still standing by the door, so I spoke, just to make him move.
"Emma is fine, she’s working, staying out of trouble. Don’t go looking for her."
I didn’t say "please". Or "I’m begging you". I didn’t even say "for your own good".
I said it like I didn’t care, though it would break my heart if he went looking for Emma, that’s why I went to see her before coming back to him, because I was afraid he’d look for her out of spite after I disappeared, he hadn’t, but the fear was still there.
So I had to force myself to keep my voice calm, to make it sound like I had come back only for that reason, and not because I missed him so fucking much.
"Is that all you came here to say?" Neal’s voice sounded strangely calm, I wanted him to tell me to stay, or to ask me to take him with me, and it would be just him and me against the world again, but he didn’t, he only asked that question, calm, as if I didn’t matter.
"Yes." I forced myself to lie, because I was too proud to admit how much it hurt that he didn’t need me anymore, that should’ve been the end of it, but I stayed anyway, waiting stupidly for him to say something else, maybe not to ask me to stay, but at least to ask why it took me a year to come back, waiting for him to still love me, to still need me, even just a little.
"How are you?" was all I dared to ask.
He looked at me like he didn’t understand the question, maybe he was just waiting for me to leave, but even so, he gave me a tired smile and sat beside me before answering. "Fine, I’m fine, I keep busy working all the time because someone left me alone with all the bills, but I’m fine. How about you, August? Are you happy?"
"I live free now, I don’t have to worry about anyone or anything but myself," I answered, angry, because his questions sounded like accusations, and even though he had every right, I didn’t want to hear them, still, I regretted it immediately, seeing how his body tensed, how his eyes hardened, how he drifted away from me even though we sat side by side.
I understood why he was angry, because despite everything, I couldn’t help sounding cruel, because the truth was, I am cruel.
I stood up to leave, I couldn’t stay any longer, the air felt too heavy, and his eyes too sad, but when I reached for the doorknob, his voice stopped me. "Is that why you left? Because I’m a burden, something you always had to worry about?"
I couldn’t leave now, not with Neal thinking he was just a weight on me, so at least I had to clear that up. "Do you remember… the last time we were together? Do you remember what happened when you got drunk?"
"You left because I kissed you?" ok, Neal was definitely furious now, and I guess he had every right to be, since I left right after kissing him back, so all I could do was apologize.
"I’m sorry," I muttered, not really knowing what I was apologizing for, maybe for leaving in general, maybe for leaving right after kissing him and ruining everything.
"Why did you kiss someone who couldn’t even respond to you? I was drunk enough for you to laugh it off the next day, to call it a stupid mistake, you didn’t have to leave and abandon me like that," Neal said suddenly, not accusingly, not with hate, but with confusion, with sadness.
I didn’t expect him to say it so directly, I looked at him and saw so many things, the man who had built a life on his own without me, but also the boy who still feared being abandoned, who was childish, angry, stubborn, the one who let me care for him because he believed I never would leave, and the way Neal looked at me—disappointed, hurt, and worst of all, still a little hopeful.
"You didn’t leave because of me, did you?" he murmured.
"No." i lied
"Then why did you come back? Why today? If being away meant freedom and happiness for you, why the hell come back on the exact day I left Emma? On the exact day you left me?" That question hurt more than any other, because I didn’t have a good answer, because the truth was cruel and selfish.
"Because I missed you, I came back because I miss living with you, waking up next to you, being the one who takes care of you," I confessed. And it hurt more to say it than to keep it inside, because yes, I missed him like the cowardly bastard I am, because I want everything—him, my freedom, helping Emma, keeping Neal from ever finding out about his son, I want it all, but I don’t want to give anything.
I missed him in every city where there was no one to tell things to, in every café that didn’t feel right because he wasn’t there to complain with me, in every cheap motel where he wasn’t beside me when I woke up, I missed him because no matter where we went, being with him always felt like home.
Even if I never fully felt at home beside him, because guilt suffocated me, because I was always lying, because he made me want to be better even when I didn’t want to, forcing me to live a life I never chose, and yet… I loved staying by his side, and I hoped he saw me as his home too.
"I didn’t come back to stay, Neal, I can’t, I just missed you and wanted to see you," I added quickly before his expression could change.
He only nodded, looking sad, defeated, resigned, I was just another name on the long list of people who had left him, his father, his mother, Wendy, Hook, and now my name would be there too, he just nodded. "And will you come back again?"
"I don’t know."
He didn’t stop me, didn’t ask me to stay, maybe I wasn’t as important to him as I wanted to believe, he only said: "If you’re not coming back, then don’t ever kiss me again, I can’t, I can’t keep waiting for you not to leave, you disappeared, Gus, you were gone for a fucking year, you left me here feeling miserable and guilty, and I can’t, fuck August, I just can’t, why? Why did you leave?"
"Because I couldn’t take it anymore, I hated my life here, Neal, I felt trapped, and everything exploded when I kissed you, because even though I hated being here I wanted to stay by your side, that’s why I kept ruining your life, missing job interviews, not contributing, being a burden, because you didn’t need me anymore, I couldn’t take it, I just wanted to be free again, to be with you and travel, but that kiss made me realize I’m a selfish piece of shit, that’s why I left, because I couldn’t handle it."
He looked up, and for the first time he didn’t look angry, only sad and wounded.
"And now? Can you handle it now? Can you stay with me in a life you hate? Can you stop being selfish and stay with me? Get a job, help me? Not because I need you, but because you want to be with me?"
"I don’t know, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do all that," I answered, because lying again would have been worse.
I moved closer, and he didn’t move away, but he didn’t come closer either, still, I wanted to touch him again, even if it was the last time, maybe for the first time but now with both of us awake. "I don’t know if I can ever be a good man, Neal, but I miss it all, I miss you."
He said nothing, his breathing changed as I held his face in my hands, and before I could stop myself, before he could pull away, I kissed him, because it was easier than speaking, easier than lying again, because lying was the only thing I ever did right when I was with him.
This time it wasn’t soft, it was urgent, like I could convince him that what I felt wasn’t a cruel joke, but I barely got to feel our first real kiss because he pushed me away, just a touch, not violent, but the fear in his eyes made me step back.
"What the hell are you doing, Gus? Why the fuck do you have to keep showing up in my life, ruining everything, disappearing, leaving me alone and confused until I start to feel okay again, and that’s when you come back?"
"I don’t know," I said, stepping back, forcing myself to.
"I’ll come back next year… to talk to you about Emma."
I saw him nod, lips pressed tight, eyes fixed on the floor, understanding nothing. And I knew neither of us would sleep well again, not him, not me.
Six months have passed since I kissed him, a year and a half since we lived together, four and a half years since he left Emma, and I am still running
I am in Lisbon this week or at least I think so, my plan had been to travel to Italy where “my tale” comes from but I ended up backpacking through Spain and somehow finishing in Portugal, the Portuguese blends in my head with French, Italian, and the names of too many people I cannot remember when morning comes.
Two nights ago I slept on the couch of a sculptor who told me she would never fall in love with a storytales writter, then she kicked me out of her house in the morning, quite fair to be honest, yesterday I had breakfast at the home of a dancer who cried after sleeping with me because apparently he had cheated on his boyfriend and today…I am in a hostel where the windows do not close properly and the sun is waking me up in the eyes.
I feel free, or at least that is what I am supposed to feel, I am very far from the United States, far from Emma and Neal, as well as from Storybrooke, I do feel much less guilty yes, but also much more empty, the truth is that all these beautiful places feel the same, because no one is waiting for me, and I have no one to share them with, there is no laughter at the end of the day nor an argument about whether the wine was good or not.
Before, everything had the taste of the unpredictable, the constant movement, not knowing what would happen tomorrow, Neal lived as if the ground would break under his feet if he stayed still, and I loved that, I followed him sometimes pushed him or dragged him so he would keep moving with me, but now he is in one single place and I am the one running without anyone by my side.
And I don’t know if I like it anymore, I don’t know if I want to keep pretending that there is anything beyond him that excites me.
Once, in Marseille, I saw a couple of men arguing in the street, the older one seemed tired, he looked a bit like me with his blue eyes, the younger one would not stop laughing, he looked a bit like Neal with his dark hair, after ten minutes they ended up hugging on a rusty bench shouting things at each other in a French I did not understand.
And I thought: that was us, noise, disorder, seeming more like a pair of bitter idiots arguing, but at least we knew in what part of the world the other was, now I don’t know if Neal thinks of me, I don’t know if he misses me or if he blames me.
The last time I saw him he asked me why I had abandoned him, as if I had betrayed him, and I couldn’t answer him.
Because yes, I left, because I needed to breathe, because I was afraid of staying at his side, because I was tired of being his shadow and feeling that despite everything he loved Emma and never me, but I also left because I thought I would return to him one day, that time would put things in order, that he would build something and maybe I could come back and stay or leave without feeling guilty and sick with nostalgia, I thought we could find each other again without destroying each other.
Now I am twenty eight, the same age as him, the same age Emma will be when she breaks the curse, but the more years I turn the more I realize that time heals nothing if you use it to run away.
I have been with many people, after years of being with no one out of fear that Neal might notice, now once again I am sleeping with any stranger girl or boy that approaches me in bars, different bodies, different languages, they are only meaningless hands that feel pleasant but have no weight, mouths against my skin but that never ask me anything important.
But every time I close my eyes…it is Neal’s voice that I hear, his stupid sarcasm, the way he said my name when he was truly pissed, the way he fell asleep next to me as if the world were not his problem simply because he knew I would be there taking care of him.
I miss him, I miss his chaos, his unconscious need to break everything, his way of looking at a map and deciding that that was where we should go without asking me if I wanted to, even though I never listened to him and it was always me who chose where we went, because even if I like indulging his whims I also like seeing him angry.
And yes… I also miss wanting to kill him some mornings because he took hours in the shower, or because he had the bad habit of leaving his clothes everywhere, or when Neal complained about how I cooked, it was an annoying routine that drove me up the wall, but at least it was our routine.
I look at myself in the mirror and I look happy, I am tanned, thin, with that expression of “I lived more than you” that people admire in hostels, but if I scratch the skin a little and look beyond the surface, I stop looking free, I only look lonely and tired.
Maybe I will go back to New York, I don’t know if he will take me back, after our last encounter I don’t know if there is still an “us” possible, but I don’t want to keep crossing countries just to not think of him, I don’t want to wake up with the guilt of not having told him everything, nor sleep with the fear that he might have learned to live without me.
I don’t want freedom if I cannot tell him what I saw today, I don’t want another bed that doesn’t smell like his chaos, I don’t want to keep traveling to places where he is not.
Coming back to his door once more felt like swallowing a knife.
I knocked without thinking too much because I knew that if I gave myself too much time to think about it, I would end up losing every trace of bravery, I would regret it and I would leave again, but this time I didn’t want to run away anymore.
Only a few seconds passed, but even so, that time was more than enough for me to regret every decision in my life at least a thousand times, yet just like always the door opened and there was Neal in front of me.
I had seen him barely half a year ago, almost 7 months actually, but even so it surprised me just like always how much he seemed to change every time my eyes left him, he was still thin like before, but he didn’t look so worn out anymore, he only looked somehow, much more serious, more… grown, which was illogical because Neal has been an adult for a long time, but it looked like his age had finally settled into his mind.
The light from the hallway fell on his shoulder and for a second I thought he was going to shut the door right in my face, he actually seemed decided enough to do it, but in the end he didn’t.
“August?” that’s all he said, just my name in a tired tone, he didn’t say it like a welcome, I honestly don’t think knocking on his door at dawn had been a good idea because Neal looked at me like he wasn’t even sure he was awake.
“Hi Neal, do you think I could come in” Not exactly my best entry, I must admit, gods 6 months ago this wasn’t so hard, maybe only because back then I knew I would leave immediately after talking to him, but now I wanted to stay and for him to listen to me, yet he still didn’t answer anything, he just kept looking at me with the same intensity and evaluation that I used to look at him.
I allowed myself to be looked at, even though I knew I had to seem different, at first glance I probably looked much happier and healthier than Neal, but through the eyes of someone who actually knows me, I definitely must have looked much more worn out, more tired, the kind of exhaustion that not even having a piece of the whole world inside your shoes can fix, and Neal was the person who knew me best in my entire life so I was sure he could notice it.
After a long time, which actually might have only been a few seconds, he stepped back, leaving a space between his body and the door big enough for me to walk through, he didn’t invite me in with words, but he didn’t tell me to go to hell either, so I took it as a small victory and entered.
The apartment hadn’t changed much since the last time, maybe a little messier but that wasn’t surprising at all, between the two of us I was always the one who cleaned and organized, Neal really didn’t, still, unlike the last time I came here, all the things I left behind when I left weren’t in their places anymore, there wasn’t a trace of me inside the apartment, somehow that made it feel empty and lonely, just like me.
We stayed standing, I put my hands into my pockets to avoid doing something stupid like hugging him or touching him in any way.
“I’m not here to stay” I said, because if I was honest and said that I was here for him, Neal would definitely ask me to leave immediately
“So what did you come for this time August?” Neal sounded much more upset than I wished, I honestly never enjoyed hearing him angry, but at least he didn’t kick me out so a victory is a victory.
“To tell you the truth, even if it’s just once” He crossed his arms, the defense was automatic, I don’t think he’ll ever believe my words again, but even so, he didn’t interrupt me.
I swallowed before speaking to try and clear the knot stuck in my throat “I like you Neal, alright? For years now, since we traveled together, since we lived together in this apartment and you yelled at me when I lost job interviews, or when I went to bring you lunch at work and you shared your bread with me even though you knew I would eat all of it”
His expression did not change, he kept looking at me in silence with his arms crossed, I wish he would have said something, either reject me or tell me he liked me too, but nothing, there was no answer, only silence, so I kept talking “I didn’t say anything before because I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship, because you were still broken over Emma, and I… I was an emotional mess, and then… you kissed me”
He frowned, of course he remembered it, he made that very clear the last time we argued, maybe reminding him of why I left without an explanation wasn’t the smartest move, but his lack of response was driving me desperate “You were drunk, and you were hurting and you shouldn’t have kissed me, but you did, and I… I held onto that like it was everything I ever wanted”
Because it was, he was awake enough to be impulsive and not think things through but enough to remember it, and for a moment it looked like he was going to choose me, not Emma, but everything had to be ruined by my damned conscience like always
I ran a hand through my hair and continued speaking, at least Neal didn’t seem angry now, but he still kept his arms crossed and didn’t answer me, although finally he spoke “So you ran away” he said, his voice calm, almost as if he was faking that he didn’t care, but I knew he did or at least that’s what I wanted to believe.
“Yes” I admitted, this time without excuses, just the truth. “Because when you started to stabilize, when you decided to stay in New York… I felt trapped, I panicked, alright? I thought I was going to ruin everything for you, I felt trapped, I wanted us to stay together, but I didn’t want to stop moving, I wanted to keep traveling with you and that’s why I sabotaged everything”
“So you left me alone, without saying anything, without saying goodbye, without a note, without stopping to think how that would make me feel, you just took half of our money and disappeared in the middle of the night on one of the days of the year when you know I feel the worst and need you the most”
“Yes” I whispered, “like a coward”
He pressed his lips together but didn’t say anything else, clearly he was still furious with me and I can’t even blame him, every part of this situation is my own fault, but the only thing I can do is apologize and continue so I did. “I traveled, a lot, I got lost, in all this time apart I tried everything, I slept with men, with women, I had flings, I visited so many countries, I got drunk in every bar I found, I woke up in someone else’s bed almost every day, I did everything I thought I wanted to do with my life”
I looked at him, this time without lowering my gaze, I needed with every piece of my soul for him to understand how honest I was being with him in that moment “And all of that meant nothing, do you know why it meant nothing? because the only thing that ever made that endless trip worth it was you, it wasn’t the destinations, it wasn’t the adrenaline, it was always you, what made traveling together good was sharing that journey with you”
I took a step toward him “I didn’t come here to ask you to love me, not even to ask you to forgive me, I only came to tell you that… if there is still something, even the smallest spark… I’m willing to stay, to try for real this time, to do things right, and if not… if there’s nothing left, I’ll leave, but at least this time with a clear conscience, I will say goodbye to you without running away from this”
Silence. I don’t know how much time passed without him saying absolutely anything, but at least for the first time in years, I didn’t feel so empty or so much like a liar, who knows, maybe Jiminy was right about something, I feel a little better just for having told the truth.
I was ready to leave, but I still waited… hoping he would say something.
The room smelled like humidity, old cigarette smoke and cheap disinfectant, the bed creaked if I breathed too hard and there was a dead insect stuck to the curtain, everything in this place was disgustingly horrible and even so, I felt like I deserved something worse.
I let myself fall over the rough bedspread without taking my clothes off, staring at the ceiling as if I could find some kind of redemption in the mold stains above me, at least Neal didn’t throw me out of our… I mean his apartment.
The words repeated themselves over and over in my head, as if they were enough to fill the hole that had been left inside my chest, I thought he would explode once I confessed my feelings and how much I fucked things up between us but no, Neal didn’t kick me out, or yell at me, he didn’t hit me, he didn’t spit in my face, he just looked at me in silence with that disgusted expression of his that has always split me in two and he asked for time to think before answering anything.
Time.
As if that were something easy for me, as if having patience and knowing how to wait were skills I had in my emotional résumé, but even so I bit my tongue to avoid saying anything stupid and I gave it to him, of course I gave it to him, who the hell am I to demand anything? after disappearing without saying a word, after leaving him alone and abandoned despite how much he fears being left behind because of his father, after kissing the lips that were still trembling because of Emma and running away like the coward I am.
Coming back to this room was my personal punishment, the place had nothing, just a bed, a broken chair, a mirror that distorted everything and a television that made more static than sound, but it was close to Neal’s apartment, just a few blocks away and that was all I needed and all I cared about, to be close in case he called me.
Because yes, I admit it, even with all my supposed bravery for confessing everything, I expected him to forgive me right then, to tell me that he had missed me too, that he had realized he loved me, to hug me and never let me go again, but Neal has never really been like that, and even if he were, I really don’t deserve any of that.
I stared at my hands for a while, they truly had changed a lot since the first time I met Neal, they were no longer the hands of an adventurous boy, they were the hands of a man who lied too many times, who hurt the person he loved the most, who ran away right when things started to matter, I am a fucking bastard, manipulative, selfish and a liar, I have always known that, I knew it every time I told Neal we didn’t need roots, every time I encouraged him to move forward without actually healing, every time I pushed him to let go of his guilt over Emma, not to help him, but so that he could focus on me instead.
And even so I want him to love me, not as a friend, not as a traveling companion, I want him to love me as a man, as his partner, as what we could have been if I hadn’t ruined everything, I stayed lying on that hard bed, with my face turned toward the wall, wishing for the hours to pass quickly, wishing the time he asked for was short, wishing that silence wasn’t the definitive punishment.
That at least this time, the truth could mean something, even if it was only so he would know that what I feel is real and that everything I lived without him… was nothing.