The soft rumbling growl of the sleek matte black car sent the occasional jolt through his body, starting at his calves and slowly crawling their way up to the backs of his knees. The vibrations were serving to keep him awake on the long drive. With only the occasional street lamp or signpost for company Percy was left with naught but his own thoughts to occupy him. He wouldn't let himself hope, not now; he couldn't, not when he was potentially so close. If he dared hope, if he even so much as thought, for one joyous, gleeful moment, that there was a chance this could be what he had been searching for, then he knew that the fate, the vindictive bitches they were, would find some way to take this from him too. So instead he focused on his story, and his plan. He knew the signs of supernatural elements at work, and all he needed was the faintest incline that something magical was or had occurred.
In the trunk of the restored metal monster, lay an assortment of badges, tags, and other assorted federal looking documents. He would play an old favorite of his, one he used at any opportunity, and given the access straight to the Atlantic, via the towns harbor, a marine biologist surveying the local salmon population, would prove inconspicuous enough as to not draw too much attention. At least…that had been the case in the past anyways. The rumbling in his knees was soon replaced with a rumble in his stomach, how long had it been since he last ate? He couldn't remember, everything about the last twenty-four hours was a blur of maps and road signs, sighing lightly, realizing that he was probably at least an hour from any kind of town or even a gas station, reaching over the worn leather console and into the backseat, being careful to keep both his eyes on the road in front of him as well as the one hand on the wheel, he grasped a bag of some random gas station potato chips.
He was getting close now, had to be getting near a couple hours away at least, he'd been in Maine for at least three hours and it wasn't that big of the state. He rolled down the window, the car was too old for an automatic window, and his hand always cramped uncomfortably when he had to contort it to work the ancient old hand crank. He breathed in a deep lungful and couldn't help the smile that started to emerge on his face. He knew that smell. In the way that a man remembers his mother's home, how the mere smell can capture him in a sense of warmth and safety and comfort, this is what sea air did for Percy. Despite being all alone in this new world, with only the brothers as friends and his family in another dimension entirely, he still had the sea and to call his home. And that he could smell it from here meant that he was closing in on his destination. He had to be nearly there, his sense of time must have been more warped then he had anticipated.
He quietly shook his head in a lackluster attempt to clear the fog that was threatening to now engulf him completely. It had never been one of his strong suits, staying awake. Up until a few short years ago he was always all to happy to let himself fall into Morpheus' clutches, then…the pit. 'No' he thought to himself quickly, 'don't think about that! Down that path lay only ruin'. He refused to let those thoughts, those villainous nightmares hidden by the cover of memory, take over his life again. It had happened once already and he refused to let it happen again. Speeding up slightly he was taken aback by the unmistakable sound of metal scraping. The horrible nail on chalkboard like squeal that seemed to be tantamount to nails being driven into your eardrums over and over again. Unconsciously, he floored it, the near decade of heroism and instinct took over and all rational thought left him. He could see a dim light in front of him now, the unmistakable light of a car, growing closer now. As he drew nearer and nearer his keen ears picked up screaming, someone was hurt or…they were about to be. Coming around the last corner he finally came onto the scene. The car, the one he had heard, or at least he assumed it was at was the only vehicle that was damaged, was wrapped almost lovingly around a tree on the side of the road, steam was pouring out of the contorted and misshapen hood, and the air reeked of burnt rubber and something that Percy couldn't place.
On the pavement, maybe twenty feet or so from the wreckage lay a figure, clad in all white and long beautiful auburn hair. In the light from his headlamps Percy could just make out a small red splotch, just under her right shoulder, that seemed to slowly grow the closer he got. Off to her left an older looking man, a wild almost deranged look on his face, was pummeling something that was just outside of Percy's view. 'Probably the aggressor then', Percy thought, as he pulled to a screeching halt maybe 30 feet from the woman lying on the asphalt. Reaching under his seat he quickly unclipped the pistol and steadily made his way towards the wildly attacking man. Whether he just hadn't noticed Percy or just didn't care, the man never looked up from what person could now make out as a man, lying unmoving on the ground.
Looking like a character ripped straight out of a Shakespearian tragedy, the gothic looking man on the ground was drabbed in a black cloak or overcoat, he could just make out a black vest underneath the coat, coated in what he guessed, was his own blood. Leather trousers tucked into more leather-clad boots covered the man's bottom extremities. For a brief moment Percy simply wondered if the man had a fetish for dressing like a pirate dominatrix, but what really caught Percy's attention wasn't the blood, the leather, or the way the beast-like man was beating him half to death despite the pirates being unconscious. No, what really caught Percy's attention was the single, silver, sharp; hook, where pirate's hand ought to have been.
Stopping roughly five away from the men, close to put him down but not too close as to be easily disarmed, Percy had made, and taken advantage of that mistake too many times in the past. Cocking the hammer back, the noise serving to snap the man out of whatever animalistic trance he'd been. Stopping stiffly his arm cocked back to deal another decisive and vicious blow to the man already unconscious on the ground.
"Stand up" Percy commanded, strongly, "Nice and slow, and keep your hands above your head." The man quietly did as he was told, now that he was up close Percy could see just how disheveled the man really was, his long black hair falling like tattered and worn curtains around his gaunt and aging face. The fierce, wild look hadn't left his face, but for a brief, inconceivably shirt moment, a look of shocked recognition shot through the mans face, before it was replaced once more with the bear bestial look of earlier, and kept Percy at a distance. Reaching into his back pocket he grabbed a hold of the wire cufflinks he kept, just in case. It had been drilled into him fairly regularly that it was always better to be over prepared and ready, than under prepared and caught off guard. Throwing the cuffs to the man he said "Put them" the man hesitated for a moment, but a terse look from Percy was enough to convince him to what was asked, albeit begrudgingly so.
"You're making a mistake" the man said bitterly, a faint Scottish drawl making its way into his voice. "He's the dangerous one here! He shot Belle!" he finished angrily. 'So that explains the woman' Percy thought to himself. "Then I'll make sure he gets his just dues, now sit down and shut up" he smiled to himself inwardly, he had always had a rather commanding presence and it was fun to take advantage of it from time to time. Quickly binding the man who supposedly shot the woman, Belle, he reminded himself, he made his way over to him as he pulled out his phone. An old brick-like flip phone, light grey with a single black line going down its spine. It wasn't fancy and couldn't do anything all that impressive but it was enough for Percy.
Quickly dialing nine-one-one he pulled the phone to his as he checked the pulse of the pretty woman lying on the cold asphalt. Her pulse was faint but steady, that was a god sign, and from his limited knowledge of the human body knew that her attacker had missed anything extremely vital. She was very lucky; he guessed that she would likely make a full recovery. A woman's voice, young late twenties or early thirties filled his ear,
"Storybrooke police department this is sheriff Swan how can I help you?" briefly inwardly chuckling at how much their emergency response sounded like a takeout restaurant, he composed himself before responding, "I need a bus to the town line, I've got two wounded, and one GSW in her upper back, she'll be fine but we need to get her out of here soon." There was a pause on the other end of the line before the sheriff responded, quietly, but firmly, with and underlying threat of aggression "Who am I talking to?" She commanded, the lackadaisical and almost bored tone being replaced by one of a veteran commanding officer, the sudden shift caught him off guard, although only momentarily before he responded, "Perry Johnson, I'm a Marine biologist and was going to drive through town when I drove into the accident, you can question me later but Belle here really needs help now!" The line went quiet for a second, before the sheriff replied once more "On my way, sit tight."
Sighing quietly, as the line went completely dead, he set about treating Belle's wound, before attempting to help the person in the car, rushing back to his vehicle he grabbed a first aid kit from the back seat and set back toward Belle. Glancing up he called the man who had been beating the pirate before, "Can I trust you not to attack Shakespeare again if I uncuff you?" The man nodded quickly before looking at the downed woman, tears forming in his eyes, "Please, just let me try and help her" he pleaded quietly, almost pathetically. Nodding in understanding, he had been in the man's shoes before once himself, he uncuffed him, before telling him how to treat the wound, and instructing him to maintain constant pressure.
With that settled he ran over to the crashed sedan, still wrapped around the tree, he couldn't make out any signs of movement as he approached, but that was not necessarily a bad thing, if the unfortunate soul was unconscious, it would make the process of pulling them free from the wreckage considerably easier, if they weren't then he would have to alter his approach slightly. Luck, however, seemed to favor him for once, as he noticed that the man slumped over the steering wheel was completely unconscious, taking a brief look up at the man with Belle, to see he was still completely engrossed in the woman at his knees, Percy quickly ripped the door off the side of the car completely. Ripping the seatbelt off of the injured man and gingerly lifting him up and out of the crushed and battered sedan.
As he trekked back to the road, with the wounded man securely in his grip, the telltale flash of red and blue filled his vision, and the unmistakable "WEE WOO WEE WOO" of a police siren shattered the quiet that had set through the wooded road. The police cruiser, skidded to a halt a short distance away from the crash site, followed by a pair of ambulances and…was that a yellow beetle? Shaking the confusion from his head he quickly brought the man in his arms over to one of the EMS and set him gently down on one of the gurneys before backing off in favor of letting the professionals do their job.
Looking around he could see two people standing next to the gaunt looking man he had been interacting with. The first, a man, stood tall at well over six feet, a leather jacket, and dark button down T-shirt covered a well defined torso, clipped to his faded blue jeans, a standard issue police pistol. A bronze badge shone in the light of the cruisers headlights, which he had obviously come in. Standing next to him was, Percy guessed, the woman he had spoken to on the phone. Covered in a black pea coat, blue jeans, and matching black boots, he couldn't see her face, blocked as it was by her long, flowing, blonde hair. The man, her partner, Percy assumed, nudged her and nodded towards Percy. Her shoulders sagged, signaling she most likely just sighed heavily, he had probably interrupted what had doubtless, in his mind anyways, been a quiet night.
Turning to face Percy he finally got a look at the women, a strikingly good looking woman, he was happy to see that his estimation earlier had been spot on, in her late twenties she had a pretty, angular if not stony face, and a cold harsh look in her eye. This was not a woman to mess with. Marching over towards Percy she stuck her hand out,
"You must be our good Samaritan" she said cautiously "Emma Swan, I'm the town's sheriff, we spoke on the phone" Grasping her smaller hand in his, he was pleasantly surprised by the strength of her grip, giving him the impression that she was attempting to crush his hand in hers. He smiled at her, the most charming smile he could muster and said "Pleasure to meet you sheriff, is everyone gonna be ok?" he asked, he only had to partially feign the concern he felt for the unfortunate victims, he could never quiet shake the hero thing.
The sheriff took a deep breath, looking behind her to see Belle being lifted onto a gurney and into the ambulance just over her right shoulder. Nodding, more to herself than to him it seemed, she looked back at him and said "Yeah, at least I think so. Belle should be alright, thanks to you and he" she indicated with a shake of her head "while pretty shaken, could be a lot worse. You saved some lives tonight Mr. Johnson, you should be proud." He waved his hand, as though trying to physically wave off her congratulatory thanks. "Anyone in my position would have done the same"
The Sheriff smiled, lightly before suddenly turning serious, and said softly and sternly "unfortunately we will need to take you back to the station for some questions about what happened here tonight back at the station." Percy deflated somewhat, he hadn't anticipated having to speak to anybody in an official capacity so soon after arriving, 'but' he supposed to himself 'if this place is what it is supposed to be then maybe I can turn this situation around'. Deciding to simply play the part, he let his face fall slightly before saying, albeit not whiningly but morosely, "Can it wait until morning? I've been driving damn near all night and I'm exhausted" The sheriff smiled apologetically at him. "Unfortunately not" she said, tucking a golden strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke "situations like this aren't all that common around here and the mayor likes them to be taken care of as quickly as possible. We'll make it quick though and hopefully you'll be on your way before too long."
She turned and walked quickly over to her partner, who looked a lot like now that he got a better look at the two of them together, siblings perhaps? She was too old to be a daughter or a niece of some sort. Cousin's maybe, he thought, before tabling the subject for another time. He watched as the two conversed briefly, before she gestured vaguely in his direction. Percy waved at the pair, in what was meant to be friendly, even joking manner. The man didn't take it as such and opted to cross his arms and glare at him. He knew that glare, it was one he himself wore several times in his relatively short life, it was the glare of a man trying to ascertain just what kind of a threat this newcomer posed. Shrugging off the glare Percy responded with a kind smile and stuck his hands firmly into his pockets. He always took a rather perverse pleasure in annoying the overly serious, which explained…'Stop it' he reminded himself, shaking himself from another self-destructive line of thought.
The sheriff gave him a wave that he took to indicate he should follow them, seeing no other real option he strode over to his car, watching the remaining EMS load the pirate into the back. He turned the key over, taking a moment to relish the low, thunder like rumble that emitted from under the hood. Another one of his small pleasures in life, the sound of a powerful engine always served to put a smile on his youthful face.
The ride to police station served as a great preemptive scout for Percy. As the station was near the opposite edge of town, he got to see a majority of the small village, and while nothing immediately jumped out to him as overtly magical, he was growing cautiously optimistic. He just had a feeling, deep in his gut, which he just couldn't help but trust. He had learned over the years to simply trust his instincts when they started shouting. Turning his focus back to the road he began going over his cover story again, changing it up every time slightly as he re told it in his head. It helped the make the story sound less rehearsed, and more natural. Pulling into a parking spot just a few rows down from where the sheriff pulled in he got out, locking the doors behind him. Taking the sheriffs lead he followed her into the station proper.
After a walk down a short poorly lit corridor in which they passed what looked like the main office and the holding cells, they turned into what could only be described as the most stereotypical interrogation room he had ever seen. To be fair, he wasn't exactly and expert on interrogation rooms, even after being on America's most wanted, literally, he had never actually been on the inside of an interrogation room, and he had to say that he was mildly disappointed. The darkened one way mirror, the hard reflective metal table, the uncomfortable straight back chair, the ancient flickering overhead lamp that looked like it had been there since the late sixties, it even smelled like he expected. It was a straight up copy and paste job from every procedural cop show he had ever watched. The sheriff said that they just had a few things to take care of, but that they would be back shortly to take his statement.
Percy was starting to get annoyed at this point, he had been stuck in this sorry excuse for a TV set for the better part of an hour and a half and the sheriff had still not so much as shown her face to tell what the hold up was. After spending the better part of a year pretending to be law enforcement officers of varying levels, he felt that he had a pretty good grasp of standard procedure, and this was most certainly not standard procedure.
He stood up in an attempt to stretch out his sleeping joints, arcing his back, an audible popping noise signaled just how long he'd been stationary. He began to pace around the small room, the last of his patience and will power falling away as his antsiness and ADHD took over. What the hell was taking so goddamn long!
Just as these aggravated thoughts entered his head, the door to the room finally opened up, and an exhausted looking sheriff and her partner from earlier, lumbered into the room. Shifting to face the newcomers he looked at the pair with a charming smile, before asking: "So do you interrogate all the people who stumble on your town, or am I just that special." Rolling her eyes the sheriff, he's pretty sure he heard someone call her Emma at one point, took a seat at the table while motioning for Percy to do the same. Taking her silent request with a smile he sat back down in the uncomfortable chair as the man took an almost protective stance behind her. Husband and wife perhaps? A quick glance at her left hand as she peeled off her jacket proved that thought incorrect.
"This isn't an interrogation" she sighed, clasping her hands on the table.
in front of her. Raising an eyebrow lightly Percy responded, "Then why am I being detained?" "You're not being detained" she answered, sounding exasperated. "But give us a reason and we'll be happy to show you the inside of one of our cells" the man behind her stated, rather gruffly. Shooting her partner, a man she had introduced as David Nolan, a withering look, he closed his mouth and stayed quiet.
"We just want to ask you a few questions about what happened earlier" Sighing, Percy stretched his hands above his head, hearing a satisfying popping sound as his back cracked and lost its stiffness. Squaring himself up to Emma once more, he looked her in the eye before telling her everything he remembered of his encounter. He watched her carefully as he told his tale, looking for any change in body language, facial expression, any change in demeanor that might indicate there was something more to the small town than first appeared.
People often believed that, as a result of his hit first, talk later manner of being, as well his less than stellar scholastic career, that Percy was not an intelligent young man. While it was true that he tended to struggle with long algebra equations, couldn't write a critical analysis essay, or even tell you who the twenty-fourth president was, he was far from unintelligent. He was, however, incredibly gifted in reading a person's body language; often able to anticipate exactly what someone was going to do before they even did it. He had an uncanny ability to read people, the facial expressions for instance. He had a very easy time of being able to sniff out a lie. He had lost his innocent naivety some time ago, yet another casualty of war. It was because of these gifts that he was able to notice the sudden shift when he began to describe the man, whom he learned was called Mr. Gold, had attacked. Describing the man as a "poor attempt at a Captain Hook costume" he had said with a smile and a laugh. The reaction was so fast and so infinitesimal that the average person would have missed it. But he was not the average person. He caught the sudden widening of the eyes in both officers eyes, the way in which officer Nolan tensed his body softly, coiling his muscles slightly as though ready to pounce, before relaxing again, and the way that Sheriff Swan's breathe caught ever so slightly, as though she had caught herself about to gasp.
The moment passed quickly, however, and both played it off as though nothing had happened and ignored it completely. It was enough, though; to tell Percy that something was indeed not quite right with situation, and that was enough to confirm his slight suspicions that there might be more truth to his vision than originally thought.
"So what brings you to our neck of the woods Mr. Johnson?" Swan asked, casually, and, after seeing Percy casually raise his eyebrow, questioningly she clarified "we don't often get visitors around here so seeing two in one night is a little…strange." She shifted slightly, in an attempt to look casual, as she put the finishing touches on Percy's statement. He shifted in his seat, getting into a slightly more comfortable position in the hard, cold, metal chair. "Well like I told you before, I'm an amateur marine biologist, I work as a lab tech for my old undergrad professor at Boston, Robert Plant, I've been trying to pad my resume a little by working for him before I apply to the University of Miami. He asked me to go to a couple of small towns and track some of the migration patterns of the Salmon in the area. I hit up a couple of other lake and ocean cities in the state before my making my way around here, this was gonna be my last stop before heading back to Boston." He inwardly smirked a little, solid story, didn't sound too well rehearsed, he was slightly pleased with himself.
Appeased with the story, indicated by a slight albeit hesitant nod from the sheriff, she wrote the last night line on the statement before telling him, "Well, Mr. Johnson" she said, a little too untrusting for Percy's liking, her eyebrows furrowed slightly and her nostrils slightly flared "Thank you for your cooperation, how long are you planning on staying with us in Storybrooke?" "Oh only a few days, just long enough to finish my report for the professor, and then 'poof' I'll be back on the road." He responded with, what was in his opinion his most charming smile. Apparently neither she, nor her partner found it so, as it only deepened the frowns on both of their faces. She stood up, Percy taking that as his cue, followed suite, "Well enjoy your stay, if we need anything we'll contact you" He smiled and made his way out the door, followed by the two officers, as he was at the exit one small thing occurred to him, turning around, one hand on the handle, the door propped open enough that some of the cool autumn air was seeping into the warm station.
"Know any good B and B's in the area?"