The streets of Storybrooke were wet with the rain of that afternoon, and the skies were streaked with amber and violet. A girl of about seven or eight, with dark mahogany hair in pigtails, ran laughing down the sidewalk. Her father walked a few paces behind, watching her with a small smile on his face, yet looked pained in some way. He was dressed head to toe in black, and a hook replaced where his left hand should be. The girl suddenly turned, and ran across the garden belonging to a large pale blue house. Her father closed the white picket fence gate behind them, as she continued to run up the porch steps and through the front door.
The girl's mother was sat drinking a cup of steaming hot chocolate at the kitchen counter, she turned and smiled as she heard her daughter come in.
"Hey baby girl!"
The girl continued towards her mother and was pulled into her arms, before being taken onto her lap.
"How'd your play go?" The mother asked cheerfully, but with a hint of sadness.
"I got to wear the bestest costume ever! All the other girls wanted the ugly frilly dresses"
At that point her father came through the door; the mother looked up from her daughter and was met by a guarded expression.
"Aye, she wore an ensemble fit for the most daring pirate!"
The girl looked up at her mother, a proud smile across her face and a gleam in her eyes. The smile was reciprocated by her mother, but her eyes were filled with a carefully masked emotion, as she hugged her daughter tight.
"Bedtime I think, Eliza" Said the farther, holding his belt with his only hand.
A flicker of disappointment flashed across Eliza's young face, before she hopped down from her mother's lap.
"Why don't you pick out which story you want to read tonight, before I tuck you in sweetie?" Her mother asked softly, stroking Eliza's hair.
This seemed to return the happiness to Eliza's eyes, before she excitedly climbed the stairs in search of the perfect story.
A tension slowly seeped into the room, as the mother and farther finally looked at each other with their expressions no longer hidden, and their eyes strained.
"Killian…"
Emma walked towards him, looking conflicted. She sat down on the sofa next to where he was standing, but he did not join her. Instead he entered the kitchen area and poured himself a tot of rum.
"Where the bloody hell were you, Swan?" Killian asked heatedly.
Emma couldn't respond, instead she sighed and leant back on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling.
"Emma, you know how much she's been looking forward to this. How much she wanted us both to be there."
"I'm sorry, I was..." Emma began, but was interrupted.
"Let me guess, saving one person or another?"
"It's complicated" She responded
"Isn't it always?" Killian asked, annoyed.
Emma's expression quickly turned from apologetic to angry.
"Hey, I'm doing my best! You think being The Savior, a mother and a wife all at once is easy?"
"I suppose their importance is in that order?"
"My family is everything to me, you know that. I spent most of my life wishing for what we have together."
"But our daughter is just not important enough to put being the savior on hold for half an hour?"
"It's not like that, and you know it"
"Then tell me what it is like, because I don't revel in having to tell my little girl that her mother has let her down again."
This seemed to flick a switch in Emma, her expression changed from angry to hurt. Silence surrounded them, and before long, the flash of hurt in Emma's eyes was gone, only to be replaced with a shielded expression.
"I'm going to go upstairs and read my daughter a bedtime story. I suggest you go for a walk or something, before we both say something we regret"
And with that, Emma turned and went up the stairs.