1.
I never thought I would see a day when living in Storybrooke was mundane. Even boring.
I looked up at the clear spring sky, inhaling the crisp air as a whiff of wind blew by and lifted my blonde hair in a glory around me. "Some savior-look" I thought to myself, brushing down the hair with one hand whilst trying to keep the other one steady, holding a big cup of take-out coffee from Grannie's. I was taking a break from work, going for a walk in the nice weather and had found myself down by the beach. I had stopped by the old fort where Henry and I had shared our first real moment, his secret fort made of driftwood that Regina had torn down during my first year here. Now it was only a patch of land, slightly different in color than the ground around it – the only sign that something special might have stood there at some point. It was eight years ago now – Henry was eighteen and all grown up. I felt myself drawn to this place, perhaps because I had missed his growing up here. This is the place he'd go when he felt lonely or upset, and I'd missed my chance at being there for him.
I shook myself slightly, trying to dispel the feeling of guilt and incompetence that would always follow this train of thought. I knew he didn't blame me, and I also knew that I'd done the right thing at that moment, that I could not do any better where I was. But I still felt the enormous regret when I remembered him when we first met, thinking that I might have been there through his first ten years.
It was March and the winter had been an especially cold one, only now had the snow melted. Thing had been quiet since the black fairy's curse had been lifted over a year ago, and we we're approaching our second uncursed summer in this lovely little place. It had been a quite uneventful year, the first one since I got here without threat from some evil force or other, and I was grateful.
It certainly was a dull day, I thought to myself smiling and starting to walk towards the Sheriffs' station again. In the horizon I saw the ocean sparkling like fairy crystals in the afternoon sun. My steps stopped abruptly and I squinted, wondering if what I saw was a mere mirage from the light playing on the water surface. No, it definitely was a mast appearing at the horizon!
I threw my coffee mug in the nearest trash bin and hurried down to the docks, where the ship would arrive, eager to meet the occupants. About twenty minutes of waiting, eagerly, I finally saw him standing there on the reel, gazing out towards me. My husband.
For the first months after the curse things had been great, living together exploring married life. I'd put him to work with me at the station and he was great at it. We had Henry at our house every other week, and the other weeks we hade the opportunity to truly get to know one another in everyday life. He loved to get up early in the mornings and go running, I'd sleep in and make breakfast late if we didn't have anything especially pressing at work. He loved pancakes and toast. We'd argue when he felt pressured to constantly do social things, where I was easily bored. He needed time on his own, doing physical work like he'd done most his life, and I was happy when I could avoid those things. He worked on the house and yard a lot.
He was from a world without constant stimuli from the environment, and it was constant compromise between us – watching TV or going hunting in the woods, reading the newspaper at breakfast or just sitting in the yard listening to birds. Going out to dinner with all our friends, or taking a moonlight stroll. It was a compromise, but we were happy. I'd love how he showed me the beauty in the little things, and I felt I could share my other sides with him and he would truly commit to trying to understand why, for instance, a reality TV-show could actually be considered interesting or funny. Though I'm sure he faked his understanding in that last instance, and I loved him all the more for that.
After about six months things had started to change, and I felt that he might not be as happy as I thought. He had told me everything was fine, but I could tell it was not. After much pressing he had said that he missed his world, his ship and his life.
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-Christ, Swan I feel like the most ungrateful bloody idiot, but I don't know what to do here. I love you, you know I do, but this world isn't mine. I've lived on the ocean for two hundred years and as much as I wish this was enough for me… he broke down at this point, and so did I. Jesus, I thought – I hated to be that girl, crying over her boyfriend – correction husband – not wanting him to leave. But that thought made me mad, realizing what he was actually doing.
- This is too little too late Hook! You married me, remember? I'm not even technically your "Swan" anymore; it's Jones now right? I'm not some random maiden you can leave in a port and assume I'll wait pining for you to come sailing in! I'm your wife! Don't you think I've sacrificed things for us? For this life we've made? You can't say I'm not enough, that's bullshit! YOU said you wanted this. Over and over! His eyes followed me as I paced around the living room, and they were filled with regret and shame.
- Emma, of course! I don't mean that YOU aren't enough, christ love…. I DO want this; I want you! Forever, just like I've always wanted you. I just mean this realm, this town, this routine – I feel like I need to do something more… he buried his face in his one working hand and my anger melted away. I sat down next to him on the couch and embraced him. I understood not feeling at home because I'd felt that way most my life. I never wanted to be the one keeping him in a routine that made him feel like that. He slowly relaxed in my arms and shifted to allow access to kiss me. His lips, wet and soft, pressed hard against mine in a sort of desperation. I let him keep kissing me, knowing so well where it was leading and that this was our way to reconcile. Sex always made us better for a while, drawn to each other like two moths to a big and intoxicating flame. A thought in the back of my head prickled, telling me this was not the mature way to solve a fight, but desire and an urge to feel good about us again won that struggle easily.
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As I remembered that summer night I could almost feel his cold metal hook against the back of my neck. He usually took it of when we made love, but this time there was a sense of urgency that we somehow didn't think of it. I remember thinking that he got my clothes of so fast that I couldn't believe he only had the one working hand, and I could still hear the summer birds chirping outside the window, announcing the mornings impending arrival as we were joined there on the couch. And again, on the floor, before we silently walked upstairs to our bedroom, soon falling fast asleep in each other's arms.
We decided after a lot of debate that us working together might not be the best idea, that he needed his own thing. I admitted too that being together every hour of every day might not have been the best idea, for me either. I looked forward to missing him for a bit, and doing things my own way at least part of the day.
We had been talking some time about finding a way to go back and forth between realms that wouldn't be so hard – most of our friends in Storybrooke had half their life in the enchanted forest, and half their life here and we knew they'd never be truly satisfied knowing they were trapped here and it weren't their choice not to go back. We did have a couple of magic beans, and had planted them in the spring, but this method was always quite untrustworthy – we were at mercy of the weather for the beans to grow properly, an every trip would still mean wasting one bean, and most of the inhabitants wanted to come and go every once in a while – visit their friends and relatives in each world. What we wanted for that was the Mad Hatters hat.
It was only natural that it would be Hooks job securing a mean of travel between realms, since travelling was something he'd done for hundreds of years. He lit up when we started talking about it, and I couldn't even be sad about him going away doing his own thing when I saw how happy it made him.
He'd been using a few beans already, travelling back and forth between the enchanted forest and Storybrook aboard the Jolly Roger, trying to locate the Mad Hatter, or at least his hat, but had been unsuccessful so far. I missed him terribly when he was away, but we had a necklace each with mermaid magic; a small shell that worked like a walkie-talkie between realms and made it easier to at least know he was all right.
This time he'd been away for almost four weeks, and as I stood there on the docks peering at the ship getting closer and closer I felt my heart filling with each inch of water the ship passed. What I had said to him in the heat of the moment, that I wouldn't wait for him, pining in some port, were obviously a lie because here I was, eagerly awaiting his arrival, even though a small fraction of my being felt sorrow that our lives would never truly be joined. He needed his freedom, and I needed him close, yet I still needed to be with to my family and maintain the peace in our town. It was an equation impossible to solve, yet in the back of my mind I knew I'd never give up having him, even if it meant I couldn't have all of him.