Disclaimer: Nothing owned.
AN: Angst. Just. Lots of it. And totally AU, i'm sure within the next few weeks.
She's getting better at this.
At least, she think she is. She dodges branches and brush as she weaves in and out across the forest floor, breathing heavily in gasps that fog in front of her face. She is acutely aware of Mary Margaret's presence behind her, being careful to make sure she doesn't get too far ahead but not slowing down. In her hand, she clutches the purple glowing vial of tree ash that will send them home, the whole reason they're running away from a psychopathic witch in the first place.
So she keeps running.
"Emma, what were you thinking?! Cora could've killed you?"
Mary's voice in strong, and patronizing, and it irritates Emma down to her core. She scowls as she widens her strides; she knows that this woman is, biologically, her mother, and she has been protecting Emma from the things that she doesn't quite understand here, but she is not a child, and there are some things she can do for herself. She knows that stealing this from Cora is the best way to get home, and to keep Cora from going there without them, so yeah, Cora could've killed her; but this is the best chance she has to get back to Storybrooke, and their friends, and to Henry, and she's going to take it.
"I was thinking, that I want to go home." She spit sharply, and her tone silence's Mary, even takes her aback. The brunette watches as her daughter ducks and weaves, speeding like a woman possessed, and she feels ashamed for a moment for her scolding tone. She knows that Emma is desperate to get home, and she knows she would've done much of the same if she were in her position. Leaving Cora with the potion was much more risky, but the woman is still on their trail and even worse, she is pissed. Her stomach is in knots, but she knows the best way to fix this is to jump now, without going any further. They need to leave Cora with no way over, and sooner is better than later because she could show up at any moment and take that right back. They cannot allow her to come through. They just can't.
She slows to a trot, and then stops altogether, leaning against a tree and she bends to catch her breath. Emma seems to realize she's stopped because suddenly she turns with a huff, storming back to her as she gasped for breath.
"What in the hell are you stopping for?!" She exclaims, almost getting her mother's face. "The bad guy is chasing us, we have to go!"
"No," Mary shakes her head, straightening up with her hand on her hip. "No, we have to use it. We have to use it now. We can't get away from her forever. Not as long as she's as powerful as she is."
Emma stares at her for a few moments, knowing her mother's words are true. "Okay, fine. Fine." She says eventually. "How the hell do you propose we do that though? We don't even know..."
"Do you want to go home, or not?" Mary is standing straight now, and it is evident to Emma that her mother acting tired was merely just that; an act. She sighs, staring at the vial.
"I'd say we have about a half hour on her, at most." She begins to rub the bottle between her hands, sliding it back and forth anxiously as she tried to figure it out. She lifts her head, eyes closed as if she is praying to some God that she doesn't really believe in.
"Emma," Mary's whisper pulls her from her reverie. "Emma, look! Look at what you're doing!"
"What I'm..." She looks down at the vial now and is stunned to see it pulsating with purple energy, a hum eliciting from it that makes her uneasy. She stands absolutely still. "What am I doing?"
They don't have time for it right now, they just don't. They need to get through the portal, and get home, and sitting here having an existential discussion on just what the hell Emma seems to be is something they cannot afford just now.
"Emma, throw it on the ground." Mary whispers.
"What?"
"Just do it!"
Emma does as she's told. Immediately the ground seems to open up a sinkhole, the wind around them beginning to whip up, sending their hair in a mess around their heads. Both squint their eyes, shielding themselves from debris around them, lifting their hands up. Mary clears her throat.
"You jump first, Emma. I'll be right behind you."
Emma's gaze snaps to her mother. There is something steely in her tone, and there is a way Mary stares at the vortex that makes her uneasy. "Uh...no. No, we're going through together." She grabs her mothers hand with her left hand and holds on tightly, pulling her arm close to her. "I want to make sure one of us doesn't get left behind."
It's Mary's turn to stare critically now. Emma can see the gears in her head shifting, her gaze calculating for a few silent moments before she nods slowly. "Alright. Alright, we can do that."
"Of course we can." She pumps her grip, pulling Mary closer, and that warms Mary's heart, the fierceness of which she grasps her and holds her close. She doesn't want to leave me, Mary realizes.
I'm not losing her again.
"I can feel it, I know you've figured it out. I suppose I owe you a thank you!" Cora's voice rips through their minds suddenly, and they both turn, eyes darting in the darkness. It's far away, and it's faint, but there is a smug tone to the woman's voice. She cannot be far, although she isn't within sight. But there's no telling exactly how this portal works; the tree it's burned ash was taken from could only take one, Mary believes, and she doesn't know exactly how long the portal will be open after they jump through. She steals a glance at Emma's worried expression, and she knows all she is thinking of is Henry, and if they will truly escape unscathed. She swallows hard.
"I love Henry and your father so much." She whispers. This pulls Emma from her thoughts, and she looks at her mother somewhat dumbfounded, as if that is obvious.
"I know you do."
"Then you make sure you tell them that." Catching Emma off guard, she twists her daughter's arm hard enough to send a sharp pain shooting up it, causing her to slacken her grip. Quicker than Emma could've believed, Mary pulls her arm away and twists her daughter around, shoving her hard toward the void. Emma is off balance, and disoriented, and cannot believe what her mother is doing.
"NO! Mary Margaret, NO!"
But it's too late. The portal is pulling her in, and there is nothing to grab onto to pull herself back. She knows Cora is almost there-it's almost like she can feel her-but she pays nary a thought to her. It is Mary's face she focus's on, sadly determined as she raises her chin defiantly and blinks once, a sad, soft smile gracing her lips, understanding dawning on Emma. No.
She feels herself falling, but her eyes never leave Mary's retreating figure as it turns away from her, her arm arching over her back to retrieve an arrow from the quiver, preparing to defend the portal until it closes, to do what she needs to keep Cora from walking through, to keep her family and her friends safe at this cost.
Emma falls for a few moments before she hits the hard floor of City Hall, just where they left from. She pauses for a moment as she lets the realization of what just happened wash over her, and she releases a primal yell. She begins beating at the dirtied linoleum, debris from the other side still littering it's floor, and screams and cries Mary's name over and over, shouting no, that she needs to go back, that she needs to get her, trying to claw her way back through it until her nail beds are almost bleeding. She feels strong arms around her middle, pulling her back and to the wooden railing of the courtroom. She fights the grip, but whoever it is pins her arms back so she cannot lash out anymore, even as she struggles against their hold to no avail.
"Emma, Emma, calm down, it's me! It's David." Her father's pained voice reaches her ears. "How are you...how did you...where is Snow?"
That was the wrong question to ask. She dissolves into sobs, the fight going out of her arms as she falls into herself and covers her face with her hands. "She didn't come with me, she sent me through alone, to keep Cora..."
"Cora?" He asks, alarmed, and she doesn't notice how he looks up behind her, to Regina in the doorway who's face has paled and brought her hand up to brace herself. They had begun to feel something shift only minutes before Emma had come through, a strange change of energy in the air, and followed it to the city building.
"She..." But Emma just shakes her head, unable to finish. David wraps his arms around her, pulling her to his chest to calm her down, but his eyes never leave Regina. It is painfully evident to him, and even Regina, what Snow has done for Emma, and for everyone in the town. The portal has closed and Cora is nowhere to be seen. For now, they are safe.
For now.
The only thing Emma remembers about getting home is Henry. How he meets them on the road in front of their apartment, how he practically takes her out with the force of his hug, how he starts crying because he is just that happy. When he asks where Mary Margaret is, Emma just looks to her father and he nods, holding out his arm to pull Henry back from her and explain what happened. She heads up to her room, staring at the floor of the apartment they shared to avoid seeing anything that will remind her of her mother. Since the entire place smells like her, though, it's kind of hard.
She takes the stairs to her room by two and collapses on her bed, whose sheets are strewn about and unkempt. It is evident that Henry has been sleeping up here, which is fine with her; she almost wishes he would just curl up with her now. She shoves her arm under the pillow and lets her head settle with a sigh as she closes her eyes and soaks in the luxury of having a bed after weeks in the realm where they slept on dirt and rocks and cold cave floors.
Where Mary Margaret is still trapped.
She swallows back the tears and the guilt that accompany that thought, and squeezes the pillow tightly. She feels something else within her grip, and when she pushes herself up and pulls her hand to her, she sees her woolen, knitted blanket in her hand. She shakes her head, shoving it back under. She can't right now.
She needs a shower, too.
After she has had one, and a hot chocolate with cinnamon-made by Henry, just for her-he peppers her with questions about where she's been and what she did. She offers him a weak smile. "Henry..."
"I think Emma is probably super tired from her trip. How about we bug her about this tomorrow?" David's tone is congenial, and soft, but Henry is a smart kid and he understands; he even feels bad for a second, because he realizes that Snow White has basically sacrificed herself for Emma, and the rest of the town, and he can see now that his mom is really sad about it. He nods, his cheeks flushing.
"Sorry Emma."
"Aw, kid, it's alright." She rubs his hair affectionately before pushing herself to her feet and scooting the stool in. "On that note, though, I think I'm gonna head to bed. I'm kind of exhausted."
"I think that sounds like a good idea." David remarks warmly, and he is startled as Emma slowly side hugs him before stepping away and moving onto Henry. He supposes it's been a rough day for her, a woman not usually open to such displays of physical affection, and although the hug she gives her son is much longer and apparently emotional, it warms her father inside to see she feels as if he warrants such a gesture. "Goodnight, Emma."
She waves as she heads up the stairs, truly very tired from the days events, so when she is pulled from sleep a few hours later, in the dead of night, she cannot understand how it's possible.
"Emma? Emma, are you there?"
She shoots up in bed, her head whipping back and forth. It's Mary's voice, soft and whispered, almost like bad cell reception, and she jumps from her bed, her heart racing. Could she have somehow made it through, made it back to her?
"Emma, over here."
The voice draws her to the mirror resting above her dresser and Emma cannot believe what she sees. Faintly, in the dark of the reflection, a pair of green eyes gaze at her from a pale frame. They look weary, and swollen, as if she has cried recently. She hurries over.
"Mary Margaret!" She exclaims in a whisper. "Oh my God, how are you..."
"I snuck into my old palace, where my father lived with Regina. She had many...methods, of keeping track of people, and the mirrors were her favorite." She frowns for a moment, then shakes her head. "It's of no matter how. I was hoping this would work. It's really silly we never thought to try it before yesterday."
Emma shakes her head, thinking that dwelling on the past few weeks is a waste of time. She presses her hands against the glass as if she can reach through and pull her mother to her. Mary smiles sadly. "Not quite how it works, sweetie."
"But then why?" She asks brokenly.
"I needed to see you." She admits with a smile. "I needed to make sure you made it home alright. I'm happy to see you did."
"How could you do this to me?" Emma demands, the same sense of joy and relief not settling with her at all. "How could you not come with me, again? What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that we needed to get you home, no matter what, to our family." Mary reply was even, although Emma can see the "again" comment has wounded her a bit. "You needed to get back to Henry, and we needed to make sure Cora couldn't get through." She smiles a bit smugly now, and Emma knows this is no time to roll her eyes. "I got a shot or two on her, but I'm pretty sure that will make her more angry for later. Either way, the portal closed before she could get through."
"Do you want me to get David?"
"No." She replied softly, the corners of her eyes falling toward the floor, her entire expression one of sadness. "We have, unfortunately, been separated like this before, and it was a cruel illusion. I would not want to draw the memory back for him just now. I will try again, though, to keep tabs on everything." She smiles through her sad eyes. "I'm so happy you're alright."
"I'm not though. Mary Margaret, how could you?." Emma shakes her head, warm tears gathering in her eyes. "I mean, I understand it's what I wanted, but we need you here. And you being stranded there alone isn't safe. We could've waited, we could've gotten away so both of us could come through. Or I could've stayed with you, and stuck it out."
"If it were Henry, would you not have done the same?"
"That's different," Emma shakes her head more fiercely this time. "I'm an adult, Henry wouldn't have been able to take care of himself there. I could've stayed with you."
"But you wanted, and needed, to go home. Emma," She places her hand on the mirror now, fingers splayed against it. "I do not doubt your ability to survive, you've unfortunately been doing it much longer on your own than you should ever have had to. But it's still dangerous here, and I won't apologize for my decision. You know you would've done the same for Henry, don't begrudge me for this."
Emma bites her lips, holding back the soft cry that rises within her. Even before the curse broke, Mary Margaret was her calm port in the storm, always waiting with a hot mug of cocoa and soft, kind words at the end of the day. The past few weeks had made it worse; now they were something else entirely, and where she missed just having a best friend, having a mother who was her best friend-who puts her first, who protects her and loves her-was something she was getting used to. It felt good, she hates to admit. She places her hand over the spot where Mary's rests and now it is her mother's eyes that film over with tears.
"Please come back. I need you here." She whispers to Mary, the corners of her mouth pulling downward as she fights the urge to cry again. She's tired of crying.
"I will find another way home, Emma. I just need a little time."
"You promise?" Her tone is broken, and childlike. Mary smiles sadly.
"I do, I promise. I have to go now, I can't have this line open for long or else Cora may be able to track it, and Gods only knows what could happen then." She curls her fingers against the glass as if to stroke Emma's hand. "But I absolutely swear, I will come home, and soon." She pauses for a moment, then softly whispers to her daughter as darkness starts to fill the frame. "I love you."
Emma says it back just as softly, but the glass has gone dark; she hopes Mary caught it though, for it will have been the first time she'd admitted it and it needs to be known. Her mother will come home; she believes it, because Mary has promised it.
For the first time in her life, Emma feels like this a promise she can believe.
AN: this is completely, unabashedly inspired from the heartbreaking scene from the end of "Doomsday" from Doctor Who, before her appearance at Bad Wolf Bay *spoiler alert*. I don't even know why lol but I've never written anything for Mary and Emma, and for some reason, I love the angst. So here you go. I have an idea for a sister story that i'll probably get up before Sunday as well, as it's mostly written. That'll be more fun than sadness and fluff, I promise :)