Ever since the day that she'd watched him being lowered into that grave, Emma had felt as though she'd lost something essential to her life. She still remembered holding Henry close as she was unable to tear her bloodshot eyes away from Neal's casket, holding back tears as she fought to keep a brave face. Once the ceremony had been over she felt gutted, as though each pile of dirt that had hit the casket was another stab to her heart. Heartless stab after heartless stab, leaving her to stagger away from the grave, practically insane with grief.
So many nights after tucking Henry into bed Emma had spent crying in her room, blubbering like a baby into her pillow. She'd hold her tear stained pillow tightly as though it was Neal she was holding in her arms. She never let anyone see her cry, but she was certain that her parents suspected that something was amiss. She'd even stopped putting any effort into her appearance since the day of the funeral. At times people would joke with her and even nudge her to try to make her laugh or at least crack a smile. But all she could manage was the slightest tug of her lips, with no passion to back it up.
She'd become a zombie.
And now Emma sat on the floor in her room, cross-legged with her eyes shut doing nothing except breathing.
Because apparently this was the only way to bring Neal back from the dead.
Almost immediately after the funeral all Emma could think about was how to do it. How to bring him back. Because literally every person who had died aside from Graham had been brought back. She wasn't going to take no for an answer. She lived in a magical town for God's sake. It was total bullcrap that she was being told that for some odd reason Neal couldn't be brought back. What was that odd reason, she'd wondered dryly. The fact that it would actually make her happy? No...there was no way that he had to be the only other one to be doomed to rot under the ground. Because she loved him and it took almost losing him to realize it. And actually losing him to seal the deal. Emma...strong, resilient, independent Emma...did not want to live without Neal.
She missed his deep gravelly voice. She missed his kind eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. The way that he'd hold her hand in his, massaging it comfortingly when she was upset. She missed his damn curly hair and his dependable nature. How...safe she felt when she was with him. It felt unbearably cruel to have him ripped away from her so soon after their reunion.
Again.
Dammit, she just missed him and Emma Swan did not like to lose things that she would miss. No, there was no way she would accept that.
So she did it.
She discovered the one way to do it. Her heart had leaped over a rainbow when she'd found out. She'd gone through spell book after spell book long after Gold had told her to give it up, that there was no way. And she'd hated to hear those words as well. No way. Give up. But if there was one thing she didn't ever do it was just that. To give up.
And she'd found it.
There was one book that had the answer. A book that was so dusty she was certain it had to be the one untouched thing in that shop. She'd actually avoided looking through at first just because she was so certain it couldn't have what she was looking for. But then one day she decided to take the chance and she was so glad she did.
It was shockingly simple. To bring Neal back from the dead all she had to do was believe strongly enough for a certain amount of time. Apparently being the savior came with some perks she hadn't been aware of. Somewhere inside of her was the ability to bring a person back from the dead with just enough belief. But apparently this was something she could only do once and never again. And it could also only happen at the stroke of midnight. To top it off she only had a year from his death to do it. Three hundred and sixty five days. After that, he'd stay dead permanently. She thought that was weird but in the end it didn't matter. The book was also strangely vague about exactly how to do it. All it said was to believe and at midnight she would be contacted by him if she succeeded. It didn't suggest any particular methods at all. But Emma didn't think too much of that at the time.
Because all that mattered was seeing him again.
Belief...nothing was stronger than the power of belief. When she'd found out she felt like hitting herself upside the head. Why didn't she think of this before? And how could it be so simple? So painfully easy? All she had to do was believe? Ha! That was like child's play. She was going to make this little test of faith her bitch.
Or so she thought, anyway.
And as for Hook...Emma had decided that Hook just wasn't the guy for her. There was something missing when she'd kissed him that she'd realized later on. There was no spark. No chemistry. No...magic. She just didn't feel like she was on top of the world like she did when she was with Neal. Seeing him again after so long had brought back so many memories, both wonderful and painful. But it took a while for her to realize that she should forgive him for the pain because he'd never had bad intentions in the first place. That was the thing about Neal. He was like a wrecking ball that came with a note of sincerest apology.
And now, as Emma sat with her eyes shut, she tried to believe.
She pictured Neal in her head leaning against that yellow bug, arms crossed, smiling at her. She focused hard, so hard that her entire body quaked with anticipation, with a burning desire to win. He's coming back, she thought to herself. He's coming back, he's coming back, he's coming back. She tried as hard as she could to feel it. To focus on those words and really feel them becoming her reality. She rocked back and forth, her hands gripping her knees so tightly that her nails dug into her flesh. I'm gonna do it, she chanted inwardly, feeling excitement rushing through her. This is the night. I'm gonna do it. I'm bringing him back.Everything was going well. So well. She was doing it. She was believing!
And then it hit her again.
The anxiety.
Just like every single night she felt those feelings of intense discomfort. It was as though she felt a pair of sinister eyes watching her, waiting for the right moment to pounce on her. Emma was afraid that she was going to think something negative. Something that would cause her to disbelieve and just fail. And thus, For the briefest of seconds Emma stopped believing.
She reflexively checked the time on her phone. It wasn't even close to midnight. She still had a couple of minutes to go.
Yet she knew she failed. She was sure she did because she always did.
"Goddammit!" Emma cursed as she slammed a fist against the ground, tempted to throw her phone out the window. She ground her teeth painfully as a string of colorful words crossed her mind. Again. Again she'd failed. She wanted to bang her head against a wall until her skull cracked open spilling her mangled brains all over the floor. She felt like tearing her own heart out of her chest and ripping it to itty bitty shreds. Again. She felt like flying straight to heaven and choking whatever semblance of life remained in Neal's body out of him. Goddamn she hated him sometimes.
She just felt like utter crap.
Emma stared at the floor in disbelief, her hands tightened into fists, her breaths coming in shallow. She was so sure she'd had it. She was sure she was doing okay at least. I mean she was picturing him so clearly. Why in the hell did she have to freak out like she did when she was doing so well? It was maddening...absolutely infuriating that no matter how hard she tried it was never enough. She felt like she was on the verge of losing it. Like she might actually scream at the top of her lungs just to let it all out.
Failing so many times was taking its toll on her and she was beginning to wonder if this method of resurrection was bullshit after all. She'd wondered this before. I mean, it just made no sense why it was this damn hard. It was so easy to bring all those other idiots back from the dead. Why was this particular idiot so hard to resurrect?
Probably because he was always a pain in the ass to begin with, Emma thought dryly for perhaps the three hundredth time.
Three hundred days…
That's right. She'd been doing this three hundred days in a row. Keeping it a dirty little secret from practically everyone around her. Strangely enough only Hook was aware of what she was trying to do. She'd sworn him to secrecy just because she felt like this was something she didn't want the others involved it. She highly doubted anyone could help her anyway. She just had a gut feeling. And Hook was trying to be supportive, but she knew that he'd stopped believing in her ability to do it a while back. In fact, she was certain that he thought she'd lost her marbles. A part of her couldn't blame him.
Three hundred days of pure mental anguish. Three hundred days of eating, sleeping, and breathing with nothing else on her mind. Three hundred days of getting down on her knees and crying and begging for God to have mercy on her miserable soul. Even trying to bargain with the universe as a whole to just please, pretty please bring him back. To give her a break for once in her life and not take this one person away from her. Going through book after book, watching video after video. Three hundred days of despair, psychological torture, and a firm denial to accept what she didn't dare to accept.
That it was impossible.
And she was running out of time.
Emma stood up and walked out to the balcony, crossing her arms as she shot an indignant look at the sky. Yes, she blamed him for all of her problems, as she had when she was younger. Why did God have to be such a dick and refuse to give Neal back to her no matter what she tried to do?
And why was it so damn hard to believe?
"I just don't get it, God. I'm doing everything I can. I'm...I'm picturing him in my head. I'm telling myself over and over again that he's going to come. All I did was stop believing for the slightest second. The slightest second. And boom! I failed instantly."
Emma had taken to talking to God soon after she'd starting taking this test. She had no one else she could truly confide in anyway. In a sense it was nice that she felt like someone was listening who wouldn't judge her harshly. And she needed to vent her frustration in some way at the end of each night anyway.
Emma shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. "I'm doing the best I can. I really am. I...I'm sure it's possible. It has to be. That book. It said that it's possible. But how do I do it? I mean, I'm sitting here for ten minutes. Ten minutes. It's so simple, dammit," Emma covered her face with her hands as she felt the urge to rebuke herself for being so weak as to not be able to pass this test. Because that's exactly what it felt like. A test. If there was any possibility at all for her to bring Neal back she could not live with failing that particular test. Even if it meant spending years trying to pass it. Even if it meant losing all her friends and everything she had.
"Whatever it takes..." Emma muttered almost brokenly, eyes rapidly blinking away tears. "Whatever it takes. I'm gonna do it. It's possible. I know it is."
Again the night ended with her feeling steely determination, a belief that somehow, some way this could actually be done. Although the unfortunate thing was that the book had simply said that it was possible. She'd flipped through pages back and forth trying to find what she was looking for, certain she'd missed it somehow. And it turned out that she didn't.
There was not one mention in the book as to whether or not it had ever been done before.
