This started out as an update to Significant Others and spiralled into a David/Emma little one shot. I'm posting it separately because I still want to do a follow up to Significant Others involving Mary Margaret. I may keep it going as a series of shots as each new episode comes out and the canonical relationship grows. Perhaps as missing moments between the two? Idk. This was too long an authors note. Hit me up if you thinks it's a good/bad idea.
Thanks for reading and the overwhelming response to SO. :) - P. x
Pitching a makeshift tent in the middle of a jungle is a lot harder than it looks on television and it's only after her third failed attempt she asks David for help. He ducks his head so she won't see his small smile and obliges, taking the thick rope pilfered from the Jolly Rodger and tying either end to opposing trees. Things go much smoother from there, complete with only minimal instruction from him and barely any eye rolling from her. It wasn't hard to imagine them playing out a similar scene, only fifteen years earlier, with a campfire and s'mores, Mary Margaret in the background admonishing him for teasing Emma about needing Daddy to come and save the day. Present-Day David's satisfied sigh at the sight of her now functional shelter is enough to pull her out of the daydream, and the pain accompanying it is just enough to turn her soft 'thanks' into a brusque dismissal.
His face falls, only just, and he starts to walk away. Of course he stops when he hears her huff.
"Sorry," she says, wincing. "I keep doing it, don't I?" He has the sense of mind not to pretend as though he has no clue what she's talking about. Taking a moment to breathe deep, he casts a glance over his shoulder at Mary Margaret where she's discussing food options with Hook, and steps a little closer. Uncertainty twists his forehead into a frown; he is struggling, not wholly sure if he should say what it is he's thinking - and in true Prince Charming fashion, he dives in with both feet anyway.
"You were out of line earlier," he says delicately, holding up a hand to silence her when she opens her mouth to protest. "That's not to say you aren't justified - you are - but there are two sides to this now and if we're going to figure this out, you have got to stop pushing us away. I..." Emma braces herself for his next words because whatever it is, even she can see it's about ready to kill him. With all the grace of the prince she knows him to be, he goes on. "I don't have to be your father, Emma. But I could be a great friend."
This must be what people mean when they talk about 'out of body experiences', she thinks. All the strength in her legs is threatening to give out any minute. In her minds eye, she can picture herself: arms limp at her sides, mouth open, possibly shivering. His words echo loudly. I could be a great friend. He's giving her an out, she realises with a jolt, he is literally letting her off the proverbial hook and offering to take two steps back from their screwed up relationship. It is possibly the most meaningful thing anyone has ever done for her. Voluntarily giving her space.
Well, shit.
She thinks she might be starting to understand the fundamental difference between her parents. While Mary Margaret was entirely sure about her position as and right to be a mother - and as consequence, had no problem charging into the role with both arms raised and jaw set, Emma's feelings about it be damned - David was willing to step back. David could be objective. Maybe he didn't understand why things had to be like this, probably liked it even less, but he could at least manage it well enough. He seemed willing to accept that if the only space left for him in her life was for that of an impartial third party, then so be it. He was simply content to be there at all.
She swallows around the lump forming in her throat. "I could really use a friend," her voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, and damn if she isn't nearly choking on saliva.
"Well, okay then," he replies with a smile. Mixed in with the relief of being let into his daughter's life, even in such a small capacity, is a tiny bit of regret, maybe anger, but he covers it up quickly. Too quickly for her to really recognise at least.
"Thank you," she says with her own watery grin. "Kind of takes the pressure off a little, y'know?"
He shrugs, "I do. This whole thing is a little weird for me too."
"I think I'm starting to get that." She nods, remembering the previous nights' eye-opening conversation with Mary Margaret. Unconsciously, her eyes drift over to where the brunette is shaking her head at Hook, undoubtedly in reply to some flirty innuendo or waggled eyebrows.
Already things seemed to be changing between her and her parents; the black rancour that had been building within her for the past few days was starting to leak out, the growing tumour of spite punctured by Mary Margaret's sharp grief and suckered by David's calm acceptance of a possible fate where he was no longer needed in the capacity of patriarch. It was almost like bloodletting. Her veins held an excess of morose tragedy, her tissues were starting to die and any minute now a clot of it would break off, overwhelm her system, and her heart would stop. She was barely hanging on and then these two show up and, suddenly, huzzah. They were her emotional leeches.
Not that she could say that out loud, because come on when has calling someone a leech ever been a compliment? But it was true. They were balancing her humours. They were saving her life.
"For what it's worth," she says, catching him a little off guard, "I'm really glad you're here. Both of you. Rainbow stickers and all. Frankly, between a pirate, the Evil Queen and the fact that I'm an emotional blackhole, your particular brand of optimism might be exactly what we need."
He lets out a loud laugh, relief easing his shoulders back down from around his ears. The little group standing on the other side of the clearing look up abruptly, a little confused. Emma can only manage a wry grin when David claps her on the shoulder, a gesture reminiscent of Sunday football game buddies. She actually finds it kind of nice.
A friend would be good, she thinks. A father might not be so bad either.