My Arms Will Hold You
Pacing. She's pacing. Pacing back and forth around the waiting room without the slightest clue of what could be happening down the hall.
"You can stay in here if you want to, Emma," her mother had told her.
"Nah," she had replied with a smile, "This is your time. I'll be okay out there."
If only she had known.
If she had known she would have stayed.
.
She now knows what the dreamshade poison David experienced felt like. It started at her heart, the stinging words from Dr. Whale striking her like an arrow, then quickly spread through every vein until her body could not support her weight, as if they filled with cement instead of poison and she collapsed. She didn't even cry. She only lay there, frozen solid alone in the hospital floor.
She was gone, and Emma didn't even get to say goodbye.
.
She's off the tile when she opens her eyes, but in the last place she thought she would be.
She doesn't react thought. She lets it happen because she needs it just as much as he does.
She wraps her arms around him and finally lets it out, feeling his strong arms flinch at first, but quickly tighten around her back and under her knees. The tears fall on both sides of the hug; hers in a hot sobbing mess against his shirt while his are more reserved, a sign that he is trying to be strong for her.
Emma wonders if this is what it would have been like over there; huddled up in her daddy's lap while he rocks her gently over her first skinned knee or the loss of her beloved steed.
Not a word is spoken, but somehow the moment says it all.
.
After an eternity and a half, David finds the strength to lift his head and whisper in her ear.
"There's someone else here that needs us right now, Emma."
The baby.
The baby she resented from the moment she found out about it. The baby she thought was a replacement right off the bat. The baby that after months of coaxing and reassuring, she was just finally getting used to the idea of but still had mixed feelings for.
Now those feelings are crystal clear. Her eyes narrow and the heat rise from her toes to the roof of the building.
The baby took her mother.
"I. I- can't. Dad. I c-I can't do it." The right words are lost in her throat and she's shaking. She starts to cling to him even more when he slowly lifts her and himself out of their chair and stands her up, but stops herself.
"I know. It's going to be hard. On all of us." His sad eyes softened with love as he offered her his hand. "Care to join me?"
She hesitates, but takes it anyway and he guides her down what seemed to be the longest hall ever.
.
He stops them in front of a window and she can't bring herself to look through it. He notices this and squeezes her hand even tighter.
"She's healthy." He says softly. She nods sharply and directs her glare to the floor. She. A sister. A pink and screaming little sister that she will have to deal with for the rest of her life. Yeah, I bet she's healthy, she thinks. Healthy enough to take a life.
She goes numb again. She took a life, and not just any life at that. The life of the best friend she's ever had.
She swallows hard and shoves the thought away as a nurse gestures for them to enter. Hand in hand, he drags her through the door and over to the incubator. She doesn't watch him lift the sleeping thing into his arms the way he was holding her just an hour ago, or the bittersweet smile he gives it, and especially not the look of absolute love in his eyes or the way he blinks back tears at the sight of its tiny chest rising and falling.
"What's her name?" The nurse asks.
Emma has to use the counter as support when she hears the pain in her father's voice, even more so when her ears fill with the sound of the name.
"Hope."
.
She's crying again. Tears are staining her jeans from hearing the sound she knew was coming but wasn't the slightest bit prepared for.
"Henry to Mom; do you copy? Over." the walkie-talkie in her bag had buzzed.
Without thinking, she had replied, "Yeah, kid. I'm here."
"How's Grams doing? Over." And that's when her breathing stopped.
David finally looking up from Hope to face her doesn't help either.
"Henry. Tell Regina to bring you here. We need to talk."
x
Even with a new addition, the apartment has never felt so empty. Two whole weeks pass and the shock has only grown as the word spreads through the tiny town and Emma can't seem to escape. Since their arrival back home the door has yet to stop taking abuse, the refrigerator is quickly filling up with casseroles that have yet to be touched, and everywhere she goes she never fails at getting stopped to hear someone's apology. Why are they sorry? They weren't the one that killed her mother.
No, the one that killed her mother is the town's newest celebrity. Then again, what would you expect from the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.
The eldest offspring, on the other hand, has yet to move since the funeral.
She's cried out of tears; she did that days ago. It's nothing but silence as she's huddled in a ball on the couch, twirling the ring her father insisted she kept around her right ring finger. She doesn't even know why all the self-pity is necessary. She was her mother, but she only knew her for three years. She wasn't really her mother. Besides, she's lost too many people to count in her years. She's more used to it than anyone.
And yet, here she sits in a worse state than anyone while the rest of the world is still turning. Henry comes in and out for visits like normal. The baby soaks up everyone's attention like a sponge. Even her own father is doing fine. She doesn't understand how he does it. Just a few days ago he said goodbye to his wife forever, and here he is now, all smiles as he rocks Hope out of her fuss.
She can't even bear to look at her, let alone hold her. She's well aware that on technical terms it wasn't her fault, but on technical terms she doesn't give a damn. If she were never born, it wouldn't have happened. Hope was the reason that her mother is in the ground and she could never forgive her for it.
.
David tries his best to break through her wall with all his might. He tries to coax her into eating after bringing her freshly made meals, involving her in taking care of Hope, stocking the pantry with her favorite cereal and snacks, even running her a hot bath at least once a day, but she shuts him out with a shake of the head and goes back to staring at the wall.
Finally, he sits down beside her, invading her growing personal space level in the highest level.
"Emma, you can't keep living like this."
To his surprise, she replies.
"How are you living like that?"
"I'm not sure what you mean."
That's it.
She leaps out of her seat and glares.
"YOUR WIFE IS DEAD. MY MOM IS DEAD. SHE CAN'T COME BACK. SHE'S NEVER COMING BACK. DO YOU NOT REALIZE THAT?"
"Emma-"
Tears roll down her cheeks as the fury and exhaustion roll into one. "Don't you dare Emma me! You're acting like it doesn't affect you at all! Like life is just going to go on like normal!"
He stands, shaking, "You think I don't know that? Do you think I'm happy that I'll never see my wife again? Because I'm not! She would want us to be STRONG. She would want us to MOVE ON-"
"This is what you call being strong?" she demands. "Pretending it didn't happen is moving on? Well news flash, your Highness: IT. HAPPENED."
"PUTTING IT AWAY AND TRYING TO BE RESPONSIBLE IS BETTER THAN MOPING AROUND ALL DAY WISHING YOUR SISTER DIDN'T EXIST."
As if on cue, a shrill cry rings from the ground floor bedroom before she can get another word in. He sighs.
"Great." She mutters. "Just great." She slams herself back on the couch and pulls a blanket over her head, signaling for him to leave her the hell alone.
He does, and she's asleep before he even makes it to Hope.
.
In her dream, she's in the other world. She's crying too, and shuffling through the forest by herself without a clue as to where she's going. She ventures deeper and deeper and promptly trips over a long vine and falls on all fours. It's only when she's clumsily propping herself up that she notices Snow's ring faintly glowing against her skin. It's even brighter when she stands up and starts walking. She follows it until it shines so bright she can't look anymore. Then she notices that the light isn't coming from the ring. It's right in front of her.
She's right in front of her.
She doesn't recognize her at first. Her raven hair is braided out of her pale face while the rest flows down her back in loose curls. She wears a comfortably fitting gown that's length falls to the lightly snow covered grass. Once she see meets the eyes that mirror her own, she knows it's her.
"Mom!" She wails, throwing herself at the woman. She nestles her face in the crook of her neck when she feels her gentle arms wrap around her.
"Oh, Emma..." She whispers softly.
She doesn't realize she's crying until she pulls away and her mother's featherlike touch wipes her tears away.
"Mom, Mom you have to come back-" she cries.
She offers her a soft smile, "My darling girl, you know as well as I do that it's not possible."
She drops her gaze to their feet and balls her fists. "I should've been in there. I should have stayed with you. I should have-"
"There was nothing you could have done."
"I could have used magic. I could have saved you."
She shakes her head. "And that magic would have came with a price. A price I wouldn't be willing to pay for. Look at me, Emma." She does as told. "Don't give your father such a hard time. He's only trying to help."
"I know, but-"
"No buts." She interrupts, "He needs you more than anything. Don't make him lose both of us, okay?"
She nods, the waterworks ready to start up again. "Okay."
"And take care of your sister for me."
Emma's eyes fade into discouragement.
"It's not her fault. Don't treat her like it is."
"You would be with me if she wasn't," she slips out, immediately feeling the sharp pain of regret mixed with relief from finally admitting it.
Snow gives her a puzzled glance. "Am I not with you right now?"
"But this isn't real."
She drops her grip on one shaking hand and pinches her arm. Much to Emma's surprise, it hurts.
"How is that possible?"
"Now of all times you question what is possible?" she laughs and lifts their intertwined fingers into view. "Because it is real. The setting may not be, but I'm always with you, Emma." She kisses the palms of her broken baby girl's hands. "I promise."
For the first time in days, she actually smiles. "I'll take care of her. I'll be the best sister ever."
"That's my girl." She grins, "Now, it's time for me to go."
Emma hugs the woman one last time. "Goodbye, Mommy. I love you."
"I love you too, angel."
With a mother's kiss to the forehead, she's back to the couch. Sunlight peeks through the window on her face and she is able to breathe again.
She pulls herself up and tiptoes into her father's room, where he is fast asleep on Snow's side of the bed. She plants a light kiss on his head before making her way over to the crib. Without an ounce of hesitation, Emma lifts the baby into her arms and carries her out of the room.
"Hi, Hope," she says as her eyes ease open. Her little lip quivers and she whimpers, obviously not used to this newfound affection. "Shh, shh, no…no don't- do…that..," Hope wiggles uncomfortably and Emma sighs. "Okay, new approach."
She starts to rock her and slowly makes circles around the kitchen. "That's better, huh? Sorry, I'm not very good at this. I'm new at the whole baby thing." Hope stops fussing and blinks at her, listening attentively. "Okay, cool. Well, I'm Emma. I'm your big sister."
She starts over to the counter, where the usual frame is laid face down. "Look, I've kind of been the shittiest- shit, sorry- dammit, UGH. Stinkiest? I don't know, okay. Point is, I've been a pretty bad sister so far. And I'm sorry. You didn't do anything. It's me. I thought you took Mom away from me." She slowly stands the frame back up, revealing one of her most prized possessions. "I had a few years with her. Not many, but enough to make a few memories. So as I was over there feeling sorry for myself, it didn't hit me until now how lucky I am. I have all those memories, but you don't. So you have it worse than I do. I've just been too selfish to realize that."
Hope snuggles deeper into her sister's arms and Emma bites her lip to keep from crying all over her. "She loved you so much, so so much. But you know what? It's not even a past tense kind of deal. She still does love you. And me. And Dad. And Henry, because she's still with us. She's always here." She pokes her gently on her chest, not exactly up to date on baby anatomy. But she knows her heart is in there somewhere. She's a product of true love, after all; no way of getting that sucker out of there.
She settles in the armchair, watching her little pink lips form an "O". "Wanna hear a bedtime story? It's a good one." She clears her throat. "Once upon a time, a mommy and daddy were arguing about baby names for their soon to be little princess. The mommy was dead set on Anna, while the daddy wanted some name that sounded like an old lady's. They went on a and on forever until Princess Pissed Off Big Sister got fed up and said they should name her Hope. She meant it as a joke, because hope was already at the top of their corny vocabulary. But plot twist: they thought it was the perfect name for the princess and named her that anyway." She kissed the top of her head. "Because we all need a little bit of hope, you know?"
The little princess was out for the count before the story ended. Emma starts to stand back up, when she spots her father wiping his eyes and smiling.
It's hard for her to believe at first, but deep down she knows they'll be okay.
Family always finds a way.
And her family has quite the knack for finding.