Just in case you aren't emotional enough about the shoelace already.
The night is has just become dark and still, all she can think of is Peter Pan from last night. The moments she spoke to him still echo around in her head, and nothing she can do can seem to shake them.
She feels rather than sees someone sit down next to her. They sit heavily, like they're stiff, or sore. She doesn't bother to see who it is. They'll announce themselves soon enough either way, so she doesn't see much point really. She just continues to stare with haunted eyes out into the dark, dark forest.
Sure enough, David's voice says after a few heartbeats, "Emma, about last night - "
"I don't want to talk about it, David," she says tightly before he can finish his sentence. She remembers Pan saying Henry had never forgiven her, and she remembers him saying she will be an orphan before she leaves. No, she most definitely does not want David to act as a bloody therapist for that.
"I know," he says softly. "So we're going to talk about something else, because you can't just sit here." She looks at him, and he smiles. "What's that?" he asks, indicating her left wrist. She glances down, not sure what he's talking about, then she spots the shoelace. Oh.
It's been on her wrist for so long now that she barely notices that it's on. The weight and pressure of it tied to her wrist feels perfectly natural now. In fact, when she takes it off for a shower, her wrist feels oddly naked.
"It's nothing," she says defensively, cradling her wrist without thinking about it. He raises an eyebrow, and god damn it that's such a dad look that she feels her resolve melt. "It's a shoelace," she mumbles.
"Yours?" he asks.
"No." He looks at her again, and she sighs. "Graham's."
"The Huntsman," says David quietly. "You kept it this long?" He sounds surprised, but at the same time not. She doesn't know what to make of that.
"I didn't have anything else of his to keep!" she exclaims. "Just this and the walkie talkies…"
They're both silent for several moments, before he says, "He saved my life once."
"Did he?" She looks up. "I knew about him saving Snow – everyone knows about that. But no one's mentioned that."
"Because no one knows about it - just me, Snow, and him. And, now, you." He begins to tell her the story, about being captured by King George and traded to Regina for gold. How guards were taking him for his execution when Graham had killed the guards and released him. To Emma's surprise, David is a very good storyteller. She can almost see the events he described before her. "He must have been punished terribly for that," finishes David. "Especially once I saved Snow."
She sends a dark look to where Regina sleeps. "He was a good man," she says quietly, a faint hint of anger in her voice, and David nods.
"I know."
"I must seem heartless, sometimes, because I never mention him." Her voice quavers, and she clears her throat before continuing. "But I always remember him."
"I know you're not heartless," says David. "I know you miss him; Snow does, too."
"How?" she asks.
"I was there the day you found the letter," he reminds her, and for a moment she remembers the yellowing page in Graham's hand writing. 'My greatest wish is that we be together.' She remembers a jumbled mix of crying and words and failed attempts of comfort.
She remembers how she scrawled out a short reply letter, stained with enough tears to make the ink run. She remembers all of it, it's almost enough to make her start crying all over again.
She sniffs back a few more tears at all of these reminders of Graham. She wipes one tear of her eyes, and David wraps his arm around her, and together they remember her Huntsman.