It came down to a split-second decision.

It's always a split-second decision for Sheriff Bigby Wolf. It's always a split-second decision, and Bigby always kicks himself after he makes it, thinking a different option would have been better.

It had been a split-second decision to rush to Toad's aid when he called. Because of that decision, Prince Lawrence was now dead.

The next decision came in the Trip Trap bar.

Bigby walked into the bar. Almost instantaneously, Holly, owner of the bar, stopped in her tracks and gawked at him as though she were shocked that he even had the gall to step into her bar.

Sitting on a barstool on the opposite side of where Holly stood, glaring contemptfully at the new arrival, was Gren.

"What do you want, Sheriff." Holly growled.

Bigby looked her in the eyes, but said nothing. For a moment, all was silent.

"Okay, so I guess I'm not worthy enough to get a response."

"You know why I'm here, Holly." Bigby responded as he walked further into the bar.

A few denials and hollow threats later, and a spell of silence was broken by the flushing of a toilet in the washroom. Bigby watched the look of anxious horror on Holly's face, and chose to ignore Gren, who was shaking his head and snickering quietly to himself.

A few moments later, and out of the washroom came The Woodsman. "Holly, you're out of paper towels in theeeee..." He trailed off, holding the /e/ sound, when he noticed Bigby sitting beside Gren.

Bigby feigned a friendly smile after their eyes had stayed locked for a few seconds.

With a heavy sign, Woodsman broke eye contact with Bigby, at which point the sheriff stopped smiling, and sat down on his stool. He picked up his drink and lift it to take a swig.

"I saved your drink for you," Bigby spoke up suddenly, "Holly wanted to clear it, but I said, naah, he'll be back. And here you are..."

In response to this remark, Holly sneered viciously at the Big Bad Wolf sitting before her.

Woodsman sighed again and set his cup down. "Look, Wolf, we've been fighting for hundreds of years. I'm sick of fighting." He mumbled honestly, and then he lift his glass again and took a long, quiet sip. Out of the corner of his eye, he could almost make out Bigby's brow furrowing a little. He almost looked saddened for a moment, and then he said in a sincere tone Woodsman had not yet heard,

"Well, Woody, that makes two of us." The Sheriff then looked at Gren as he stood, saying, "You're in luck. I've decided to switch seats."

As he moved to step closer to Woodsman, Bigby was suddenly held back by an hand on his chest; Gren was shoving him back, and he slowly turned around to face him. It was clear that he was willing to fight.

It was Bigby's turn to sigh. "Come on, I just want to talk. It doesn't have to go this way."

"And what if he doesn't wanna talk?" Gren asked menacingly.

"It's alright, Gren," Woodsman spoke up, albeit reluctantly, "I'll talk..."

With one last shove, Gren released Bigby and swiftly removed his nose from their business, continuing to slouch over his drink.

Bigby quietly sat down on the stool next to Woodsman.

"I used to be the hero. Now I'm the bad guy, and you're the fuckin' Sheriff." Woodsman grumbled to himself.

"You know why I'm here, Woodsman."

"Yeah, yeah. You wanna know what happened."

"That would be helpful, yes."

Woodsman raised and shook his head before he spoke. "It's amazing; the shit people do for money... She didn't look like it, but she had money, I knew she did. I was gonna rob her. And then the one goddamned day I finally work up the fuckin' nerve to do it, and there you are, laying in the bed..."

"What is it that you're talking about, exactly?" Bigby demanded, his patience beginning to run thin.

"Red Riding Hood. I was going to rob her. I only saved her from you because I thought she would reward me, but she didn't give me a goddamned thing."

Hearing this, an uncertain look appeared on Bigby's face. "Whatever." He mumbled, "It's in the past. But we need to talk about the present now, Woodsman. Did you kill Faith?"

Woodsman looked over at Bigby. "What, Faith? Who's th-"

"You beat her up yesterday. You know, it looks pretty fuckin' bad when the girl you were seen beating on is found dead not too long after!"

Woodsman's eyes widened, panic visible in them as clear as day. As he stammered, he turned his whole body towards the Sheriff. "What...? No, no, no no no no, Bigby, I didn't kill her, I swear! I'm a piece of shit, I know that, and I hit her, yeah, but I swear to God that I didn't kill her! I was here; please, Bigby, you've gotta believe me!"

Before Bigby could respond to Woodsman's pleas, Gren put down his glass loud enough to gain his attention.

"He was here," He said, "That's the fuckin' truth, Sheriff."

"You see? Please, Bigby... If you've never believed me before, then please, just believe me just this once!"

Bigby, with a piteous smirk on his face, closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment. A second or two later, he raised his head again and opened his brown eyes, looking right at Woodsman. "I wish I could..."

Gren, who had raised his glass again, heard this, and he responded by slamming his glass back down and standing up.

Woodsman also stood up, and for a second, Bigby thought he was going to bolt.

"Stop, Gren!" Woodsman shouted, taking a defensive stance behind Bigby, though his intention was to defend him. "He's been through enough."

Bigby turned his head around and looked at Woodsman, who immediately seemed to become flustered.

"I've been through enough. I don't want this on my shoulders too. First Riding Hood, then that prostitute... Not Bigby."

"I don't give a shit what you want and don't want! This fucker needs to pay! The only reason he's even here is because the rich fucks over at the Woodlands need some sort of fuckin' closure that we don't get!"

Bigby whipped his head around to stare at Gren. "It's not like that, okay?! I know the system's got problems, but that's not something I like, and it's not something that I can change!"

"Holly's sister goes missing, and what the fuck do we get? Paperwork, forms, and that fuckin' bitch Snow White looks right past us!"

Bigby stood up. "I wouldn't call her that if I were you. It's happened before, and it didn't end well." He threatened.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were the bitch of the bitch."

Woodsman watched Bigby's fist as it curled up and trembled. He honestly expected the Sheriff to hit Gren across the face, but instead, he watched as Bigby seemed to shrug it off and calm down. Strange.

A green light swallowed the room for a moment, and when it cleared, Gren had transformed out of his Glamour.

"Great," Bigby muttered, rolling his eyes, "Cut it out. You're scaring the lady."

"Don't worry about me." Holly replied as she also transformed out of her Glamour.

Before Bigby could do so much as step back, Gren hit him with a stool, throwing him backwards. He would've stumbled into Woodsman if the Fable hadn't stepped back.

After about sixty-ish seconds of Bigby being whipped across the room and Woodsman helplessly watching, Gren dragged a seemingly-unconscious Bigby by the legs across the floor. The sound of something sharp digging into the floor caught Holly's attention, and all three of them looked over to discover that Bigby was half transformed, and he had dug his dark claws into the floorboards.

Seeing as he could no longer easily drag the Fable across the floor, Gren opted instead to whip him across the room. Bigby's back hit the wall beside Woodsman, who had been quietly inching his way toward the restroom during the whole fight, and shortly after, he stood, snarling.

When Bigby turned his head and body to face Gren, it was as though he was incapable of seeing anyone but his attacker.

"Wolf," Woodsman whispered; he had meant to shout it, but he couldn't find his voice as he stared at the killing machine that stood before him, ready to pounce.

Only a minute later, and the tables had turned. Gren lay on the ground, broken and wounded, surrendering, but Bigby wasn't finished.

"He's had enough!" Woodsman shouted, finally finding his voice, despite the fact that it fell on deaf ears.

It came down to a split-second decision.

Bigby raised his arm above his head. Woodsman cringed, expecting to hear the sickening sounds of whatever Bigby would do, but instead, heard nothing for a few agonizingly long seconds. When he finally did look, he saw Bigby tear his eyes, his golden eyes filled with hunger and a lust for bloodshed, away from Gren's shuddering form and storm over to the bar, which he gripped so tightly that his claws dug into its surface. When he shot his head up and looked at Holly with his dark-rimmed, sunken gold eyes, she flinched in fear.

"Whiskey," He growled.

Shakily, she got him a shot glass, which he immediately hurled across the room to shatter on the wall.

"Double."

Silently, Holly reached back under the bar and got him a bigger glass, which she then filled with the remainder of whiskey in the bottle.

Before she finished pouring, Bigby, who was now looking down at the floor between his feet, said, "Two."

After a brief pause, Holly got him another glass, opened a new bottle of whiskey, and poured him another two shots-worth.

Bigby looked over at Woodsman, making the bearded Fable jolt a bit. The wolf then grabbed the second glass carefully, looked down at it, then back at Woodsman. With a carefully calculated shove, he slid the glass across the bar.

Confused, Woodsman looked at his rival, who stared at him expectantly.

The Big Bad Wolf was offering to share with The Woodsman? For a moment, Holly wondered if she had perhaps slipped into the Twilight Zone somehow.

Cautiously, Woodsman stepped closer to the bar and picked up the glass. He took a swig, keeping an eye on Bigby in case he tried anything funny.

Instead, Bigby simply lift his own glass. Two chugs later, and Bigby put the glass down, back to normal. He opened his eyes, which had reverted back to brown, and he looked up at Holly.

"Send in a damage report to the Woodlands' offices. Fabletown will pay for this. Put the drink on there too. Both drinks. ... And the glass." He said.

Holly kept her mouth shut, so Bigby instead turned his head and looked at Woodsman again.

"Is that the kind of treatment I can expect if I let you take me in?" Woodsman asked, referring to Gren, who now seemed to have blacked out.

Bigby glanced shamefully at Gren for just a moment. "No," He replied truthfully. "If you surrender without a fight, you'd be treated with respect."

Before Woodsman could make a comment about the whiskey, Tweedle Dee, blood on his shirt, waltzed in. Unwrapping a lollipop, he began, "Alright, a hundred bucks to the first bloke who can tell me anything about a girl named..." He stopped, however, because he saw Gren. When he saw Bigby, he muttered, "Oh, shit."

Woodsman was the first to bolt. When Bigby turned to look at him, Tweedle Dee also turned to run.

Bigby roared.

It came down to a split-second decision.

Woodsman made it about three steps, and he was then thrown into the wall, pinned there by Bigby.

"I thought I'd be treated with respect," Woodsman complained.

"I thought you wouldn't run," Bigby mocked.

"That fucker was covered in blood, and you let him go?"

"Shut your mouth. You're under arrest."

Now, Bigby Wolf walks down the street, escorting The Woodsman to The Woodlands. They're both surprisingly quiet, at least until the sight of police cars surrounding the building catches Bigby's eye.

"What the hell...?" He grumbles. Woodsman says nothing in response, so Bigby promptly reveals a new pair of handcuffs to handcuff the handcuffs he wears to a lamppost.

"What the- Wolf!"

"Stay here. I'll be able to tell if you try anything stupid. I'm just going to go see what all the ruckus is about." Before Woodsman can reply, he leaves earshot.

"Stupid fuckin' asshole." Woodsman grumbles anyway.

Bigby pushes his way through the crowd as Woodsman curiously watches from his lorn lamppost. No one has time to stop him as he pushes through the crowd and sees what lays upon the steps.

His eyes widen.

It came down to a split-second decision. He could have taken Snow along, into the Trip Trap. He could've... but he didn't, because he made the wrong fucking decision. Again.

Story of his life.

Woodsman watches as Bigby collapses to his knees in front of the stairs, and he wonders for a moment what the Sheriff has seen that's suddenly destroyed some innocent part of him. A few minutes later, and Bigby is storming over, his head down.

He yanks Woodsman to his feet, as the Fable had opted to sit down, and snarls at him, "Get up."

"What'd you see, Wolf?"

"Shut up."

A couple seconds later, and Woodsman's handcuffs clatter to the ground. Bigby points in the opposite direction of the Woodlands.

"Go."

"What? You're letting me go?"

"You were there at the Trip Trap before I got there. You couldn't have killed Faith, because there was no time for you to kill Sn-..." Bigby chokes on words and presses his fingers against his eyelids for a moment.

Woodsman opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off.

"Just go before I change my mind."

"... Snow White's dead, isn't she?"

Bigby says nothing, which Woodsman takes as a yes.

"Wow... Uh... I..." Woodsman gently rubs the back of his head, still bandaged from an earlier fight.

Bigby keeps his head down. He is obviously quite shaken by the death of his partner and co-worker, and Woodsman is unsure how to react.

"... Wolf, I... I know me saying this might mean jack-shit to you, but... I'm sorry."

For a moment, Bigby says nothing. When he does speak, he only says, "Aren't we all...?"