Hello everybody, I'm back with a new story! Thank you for being patient until I was ready to show you what I've been doing for the past month; it's "The Time Traveler's Wife" AU, with a slight twist in which Emma is the one who disappears without rhyme or reason and finds herself stuck in the past or present for days on end. Those of you who read the book will be worried, but I assure you, this fic is going to have a happy ending. Enjoy, and you can expect an update every four days for the next few chapters (while I'm on vacation).
April 23rd 2012. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)
Emma blinks a few times to clear her vision and sees the back alley behind her apartment building, crouching in the corner buck naked and shivering in the early morning chill.
The alley is not as smelly and dirty as some she'd been in recently, but Emma can't help grumbling and wishing that she had disappeared from her living room instead of here and sighs because it's been at least three days, judging by the newspapers caught on the edge of a Dumpster.
Her clothes are gone from the neat pile into which they have fallen once she was misplaced in both time and place, finding herself in the suburbs of Boston in 1997.
"Time-traveling blows", she says to nobody in particular and grabs a t-shirt somebody had thrown out, shivering as it slides down her body and preparing to stop breathing if it smells too fouly, but to her surprise, it smells like detergent and the ocean, reaches to about mid-thigh and all in all feels perfect on her frozen skin.
As she walks on tiptoes and tries not to step on anything too disgusting and/or sharp, Emma tries to come up with an excuse for her boss, hoping that he's going to buy the story of a sick aunt so she doesn't have to look for a new job.
Again.
The sky is going from pink to blue and Emma thanks her lucky stars it's early because she'd rather not meet any of her neighbors, although she's fairly certain most of them have already decided that she's not all there, including the incredibly hot mystery from 3B who has seen her coming home dressed in all kinds of weird assemblies in the month she'd lived here; if anything he always seems amused when they see each other in the hallway or the elevator, but there's a deep sadness in his blue eyes that gives her pause and always makes her feel a little thrown.
It would be easy to blame it on the fact that he's missing a hand, the sleeve of his leather jacket only just hiding his stump, but somehow Emma thinks it's not the reason his half-smiles never quite engage his eyes too.
For some unfathomable reason she often gets the feeling that it's somehow her fault, but she is too much of a mess to even try flirting with him or saying anything beyond the most courteous greetings they exchange upon seeing each other.
And speaking of the devil…
Emma realizes that her spare key for the building door is not in its usual place just as the said door opens and 3B steps outside, his eyes widening almost comically when he notices her busted lip.
It was a long, long week in 1997.
"Swan, are you alright?" He asks as if he cares, as if they are much more than just neighbors, as if he's got every right to address her by her last name.
"Just fine, Jones", she says curtly, showing him that he's not the only one who can read what it says on the mailbox.
"It's Killian", he tells her softly, and she thinks how one of these days she won't be affected by his British accent, so she just rolls her eyes and squeezes past him.
"Thanks for holding the door", she says curtly, abruptly realizing that he smells exactly the same as the shirt she's currently wearing does.
The one that she had supposed somebody had mistakenly thrown into the garbage.
"Always a pleasure, love", he replies and gives her another sad smile before he turns around and walks away, her eyes following him until he rounds the corner and disappears down the block.
It is entirely possible that he had left that shirt in the back alley on purpose, but Emma doesn't want to think about what that might mean right now, so she shakes her head and goes inside, breathing a sigh of relief when she finds her apartment key under the doormat.
She takes a long, hot shower, eats the first thing she encounters when she opens the fridge and collapses into bed, only just managing to burrow underneath a mountain of blankets and pillows before sleep overtakes her.
Emma wakes up around 6 p.m. feeling slightly better for having slept eleven hours, and she smiles wryly to herself when she realizes that she had put the shirt that might or might not have belonged to Killian Jones back on after taking her shower.
It turns out she'd been gone for five days instead of three like she had originally thought and sends Elsa a text letting her know that she's back and thanking her for covering for her at work.
The boss is pissed at us both, comes the reply and Emma thinks how she should really try to explain her time-traveling problem to at least her one and only friend in the world, but even though she's afraid that one day soon Elsa is just going to give up on her, that fear is not enough for her to actually say the words.
Besides, how would she even go about explaining that the reason for her sudden and often disappearances is genetic?
Or so she figures.
Sometimes she wonders if she might be magical, but then she decides that she can't be because if she were actually magical, she would have been able to control it by now, and not only she can't pick her destination or the year she misplaces into, she also can't stay rooted to the present once she starts feeling herself going.
What she has is a curse, and she wouldn't wish the same on her greatest enemy.
But, much like friends, she also doesn't have one of those.
Emma dials Elsa's number and goes about cleaning out her fridge, unearthing a can of Coke at the back and taking a big gulp before Elsa picks up.
"You're finally back", Elsa says, and she doesn't sound the least bit pissed off, which is nice, but Emma feels even more guilty precisely because of it.
"It's only been five days", she says with a sigh and carries the trash to the door so she doesn't forget it on the way out.
"Felt like longer."
"Library was busy?" Emma asks and finds her fingers practically itching to caress the spines of books she had last assembled on the shelves a week ago.
"Not more than usual, but the guy we usually order books from is sick so they sent somebody new and you know how Mr. Gold is… everything has to be just so otherwise he's not happy."
"Makes you wonder why he hasn't thrown me out already, doesn't it?" Emma says even though she knows her attempt at humor might turn into reality tomorrow morning when she finally shows up at work.
"You know why he hasn't and he won't", Elsa tells her and Emma frowns because she really doesn't know.
"He won't?"
"Nobody is better at handling his precious books than you are, not even Belle."
"If you say so", Emma shrugs and pulls on a pair of jeans, looking around her bedroom for a shirt to wear. "Wanna grab coffee?"
"Sure. Maybe this time you tell me what you've really been up to".
"See you at the mall in half an hour", Emma says noncommittally and hangs up just as Elsa gives her a long-suffering sigh.
Five minutes later Emma is dressed and ready to go, but she pauses in the doorway, debating on whether or not she should return the t-shirt she had worn to the trash or maybe even hang it on Jones' door, but she doesn't get a chance to decide because he appears out of nowhere and rises a quizzical eyebrow when she waves the frayed garment in the air.
"This yours?"
"Depends on a number of things", he says and she rolls her eyes because she's really not in the mood for other people's mysteries on top of her own.
"I found it in the back alley. Is it yours or not?"
"You can keep it if you want", he tells her and Emma presses her lips into a thin line because he's talking to her with such familiarity, and what's worse, she finds that she doesn't actually mind it.
"So it is yours."
"Not anymore", he tells her with a wink and inserts a key into his door, disappearing into his apartment before she can tell him that she doesn't want his t-shirt.
Especially because she's sure now that he had left it in the alley on purpose.
Emma throws the shirt back into her apartment, smirking when it lands on the couch and locking the door before she replaces the key under the doormat and goes to throw out the trash.
The only reason why anybody would leave her clothes would be if they knew about her misfortunate genes, and she hasn't even considered telling the truth since Neal.
Even thinking his name makes her ache, so Emma marches out on the main street and keeps marching until she outruns her thoughts and reaches the mall, her heart feeling less like an object being squeezed inside a vice and more like just a regular organ pumping blood through her body.
Elsa is already waiting when Emma enters Starbucks, wordlessly pointing at a mug of coffee across the table and eying Emma's lip before she takes a sip of her tea.
"Are you some kind of a secret agent?"
"Elsa, come on", Emma exclaims even though that would actually be the perfect cover for her absences; she might not be ready to tell Elsa the truth, but she doesn't want to lie to her either.
"You always show up banged up", Elsa tells her, and Emma has to concede because more often than not she does. "What am I supposed to think?"
"You could just not think about it", Emma suggests and Elsa gives her a sideways look, then focuses her attention on tracing the insignia on her cup.
"If there's anything I can do to help you, just know that I will."
"Thanks, but you're already doing everything you can", Emma says, trying to ignore the fact that Elsa could become her best friend if she only told her what was up. Or showed her.
As if on cue, she feels the odd feeling in the pit on her stomach that always precedes her travels, and she doesn't waste time cursing because she'd only been here for a day and she is so getting fired whenever she returns.
"I have to go", Emma says and hightails it to the closest bathroom, praying fervently that she doesn't disappear before she gets into a stall.
Some indeterminable time later Emma bangs her head on the knob as she stands up on wobbly legs, breathing a sigh of relief because it turns out she had actually managed to get into a stall and lock the door behind herself; the fact that it's still locked means that she hasn't been gone all that long and it's an even bigger blessing that her clothes are still on the floor where they must've fallen when she was displaced.
Or, rather, violently torn from her own time and thrown into the year of 2003.
The floor is reasonably clean for a mall bathroom, so Emma doesn't cringe too much as she puts her clothes back on, but when she comes out of the stall and finds Elsa leaning against the sink she actually feels relieved that she's going to have to explain everything now.
"Where do you go when you disappear?" Elsa asks as calmly as if she's asking about the weather and Emma leans against the sink next to her, shrugging before she tells her that it's different every time. "Where did you go just now?"
"June 2003", Emma says and chances a look at Elsa, who stares at her with her big, slightly frightened eyes.
"You travel in time?"
"Sadly, yes", Emma tells her and starts washing her hands just to give herself something to do.
"Were you always like this? Are you some kind of a superhero?"
Emma laughs, then covers her mouth with her hand because nothing about her situation is funny and Elsa is well aware of that, which feels nice compared to what Neal's reaction was supposed to be.
"It started when I hit puberty and no, I am not a superhero. I would have to be able to control it in order to use it for good, and I'm not."
"Sorry", Elsa says and Emma dries her hands because she doesn't want to see the way her friend must be looking at her now.
She is well aware that she's a freak, but knowing that doesn't make it easier to see the looks of distaste on other people's faces, much less somebody she had considered a good friend for quite some time now.
"You obviously don't want to talk about this, but if you change your mind, I'm here", Elsa says and nudges Emma's shoulder with hers, startling Emma enough to make her look up to find Elsa giving her an encouraging smile. "Our drinks are probably cold by now, but you can buy us another round."
And just like that, Elsa is in the know and slipping her arm under Emma's, leading her out of the bathroom and making her feel lighter than ever before.
Emma feels the need to tell Elsa everything bubbling inside her, but she still can't believe that Elsa is really okay with what she had witnessed today, so she decides to go easy on her.
She can explain everything gradually, and just the knowledge that Elsa will listen is enough to make Emma smile as her friend shares all the work gossip and they slowly sip their second round of drinks.
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