Title: A Life of It
Author: Roguie etc…
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Characters: Emma/Killian
World: AU Modern
Rating: T, with the likelihood it will change to M over time, because I'm weak like that.
Warnings: Child abuse, bullying, all the bad things you'd expect to find in a poorly executed foster care system.
Spoilers: It's AU, so not likely.
Summary: Everywhere she was sent, he was there, her savior, the boy with blue eyes. He should have meant nothing to her, just another person that had to leave, but he meant everything. Against all odds, he kept coming back.
Disclaimer: OuaT is not mine, if it were, tackle hugs and sweet kisses would be our norm. Also, there would be way more, *cough*, sword practice scenes between our Captain and his Swan.
A/N: I know, I know! I don't normally do this AU stuff, but I've got an adult AU started I'm not posting until it's mostly written and I figured until I have that one sorted, I would open this fic as something to do for the summer in the meanwhile. I can't guarantee an update schedule, as God knows I have very little time to write anymore (stupid promotion, I love my job, but jeez, 60 hours a week is killing me), but I'd like to see where this little story goes. No idea how long it will be or how far through their lives my muse will take them, but hey, come along for the ride – we can be surprised together. :P
~~~?~~~
"Shhh, Emmie, shhh," the little boy with bright blue eyes whispered to her as they huddled together under the basement stairs, listening to the sound of breaking glass overhead. The deep voice was muffled even as it screamed profanities, causing the little blonde girl to tremble in terror. Fat, salty tears filled her green eyes as she pressed her face to the new boy's neck, holding onto his only slightly bigger frame for comfort, whimpering her terror into the darkness.
When the sharp sound of a pained scream came from above, both children paled, their stricken gazes colliding as whimpers turned into terrified sobs. The boy rocked her quietly, thin shoulders bearing the weight of her terror as he whispered into her ear.
"It's okay, Emmie, it's okay, he's not mad at you, just her 'n maybe me. She should'a asked, 'n it would'a been okay. I can go back, it's okay, I can go back."
Her whimpering plea of, "Noooo," broke his tiny heart as he rocked her through the hours until only silence came from above. By the time he thought it was safe to crawl out of their hiding spot, her breathing had grown quiet and even, her little hands limp around his neck, her eyes closed. He struggled to crawl to his feet under her weight, his tiny frame almost not enough to lift her as he slowly made his way up the stairs, balanced at the top precariously, one arm under her bum, holding her to him, the other struggling with the doorknob.
He carefully stepped around the shards of ceramic that littered the kitchen floor, ignoring the tell tale drops of blood, cupping her head in case she were to wake up and see the damage inflicted by the angry, drunken man who had come home, surprised to find another orphan living in his home.
He struggled to the tiny office that made up the bedroom he was supposed to be sharing with the little girl in his arms, placing her gently on the mattress that lay on the floor in the corner of the room. He pulled the threadbare blanket over her little shoulders, tucking her in as he remembered his mother had once done for him, humming a tune he vaguely remembered without any recollection of the words.
When he was sure she was settled, he moved across the room, sliding his back down the door and planting himself between his tiny foster sister and what lay within the depths of the rest of the house. She was too little to deal with what was coming, but he was almost eight years old; he wouldn't let the hell that was his world touch her. He'd learned that lesson the day his brother stood between him and his father, taking blows that were meant for his much smaller body, bleeding blood his own flesh should have spilled.
Making up his mind, he nodded his little head to himself. He'd do for Emma what his brother had done for him; in the morning he'd find a phone and call the number on the worn, beaten card that lay hidden between the pages of one of his mother's books, the only piece of her he had left, the only thing he refused to leave behind when they'd come for him the morning after his brother's blood stained their kitchen floor. They would come for him and Emma, as they'd come for him and Liam a year before, and put them some place safer for a little while. He only hoped her little heart would understand that he wasn't leaving her on purpose, just like he understood that Liam never intended to leave him; he didn't doubt that they would be separated in the morning, but they would be safe.
Maybe one day, if he was really, really good, he'd see them both again.
He tried desperately to hide his guilty eyes the next morning as he snuck away from the death grip she had on his hand after they crept quietly towards the kitchen for breakfast. Their foster mother greeted them both with a big, fake smile, ignoring their stares at the bruises on her arms and face she never even attempted to cover. Emma's nails dug into his palm as he struggled to break free, giving her his best comforting smile.
Their foster mother didn't give him a second look as he muttered quietly about forgetting something, ducking out of the room to the telephone he'd seen the day before in the living room. Quiet, desperate words were left on the voicemail that answered his call, and only a few hours passed before a knock came at the door.
As he helped Emma pack her small bag of belongings, he tried desperately to ignore her broken little cries.
"Hey," he whispered, glancing at the doorway to ensure they weren't being watched. "Hey, Emmie, it's okay, we'll see each other again."
Four year old eyes that had seen far too much swam in heartbroken tears. "We won't," she whimpered, clinging to his thin hip. "Everybody leaves me!"
"Not me, Emmie. I'll find you, I promise."
He could tell she didn't believe him as she finally let him go, picking up her bag of clothes and colouring books that wouldn't close over the only stuffed animal she owned, a big, white teddy bear she kept wrapped in a knitted baby blanket that bore her name in purple script.
He sighed, bending under the weight of his promise to this little girl he'd barely known twenty four hours, her attachment to him speaking volumes to the life of abandonment she'd led to this point.
"A promise is a promise, Emmie," he whispered the last words his brother had shared with him into the little girl's ear. With a nod he picked up the worn copy of Wuthering Heights he'd kept close to his heart for over a year, his last piece of his loving mother, his last connection to his blood family. "Here," he whispered, tucking it into the bag, wrapping her teddy's arms around it gently. "Keep this 'til we see each other again, then you can give it back, 'kay?"
Her eyes betrayed her disbelief, her body stiffening with the betrayal he never wanted to commit, an emptiness in her gaze that no four year old should have, but her tears disappeared as she nodded, shrugging. "'Kay."
He tried not to think too hard on how broken her little voice sounded, or the way she refused to look at him as they were taken to separate cars, one heading to a girl's temporary residence, one heading to a boy's home. It wasn't until later that night that he realized he'd never even told her his name; he'd only just been introduced as her new big brother when the man came home and their worlds shattered around them.
Somehow, he doubted the next time they crossed paths she'd even remember the boy she'd known a day. That thought made his heart ache in a way not even losing Liam had done – a slow, throbbing pull that spread through his body and filled his dreams with images of eerily empty, broken green eyes.
~~~TBC~~~
Remember, much like magic, all muses come with a price. My muse's price is that little review box down below; please don't make me chase you for payment, it's such a bloody awful waste of her time, wouldn't you say?
