Title: And Our Second Chance?
Author: AoN
Word Count: 1,000
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG
Feedback: Please and thank you! Let me know what I'm doing right or doing wrong.
Summary: As Mother Superior turns the wooden puppet back into a real boy, Mary Margaret realizes she'll never have that chance with Emma. (Takes place during 2x18: Selfless, Brave and True.)
Mary Margaret watched in silence as Mother Superior waved her wand over August's lifeless wooden body that Marco cradled still in his arms. As the white light engulfed his body, Mary Margaret willed herself to feel joy for Marco's sake, whilst trying to ignore the voice in the back of her mind.
He's the reason your darling Emma grew up without a mother.
But August – Pinocchio – grew up without his own father. After twenty-eight years, father and son would be reunited once again, just as she and David had been reunited with Emma.
He had seven years with his son. Did you even have seven minutes? No.
Marco awoke from the curse in the same manner Mary Margaret and David had, with the sudden realization that the prophecy came true: Emma saved them all, but they had both lost decades with their children. The little boy and the newborn baby girl were no more.
Mary Margaret tried to reassure herself that none of that matter – or, rather, that none of that shouldn't matter - because they were all together now. Now they were a family, right?
Marco could finally begin to learn and come to terms with the person his child grew up to be, just as both Mary Margaret and David still were.
He took Mary Margaret's chance to be a mother, yes, but he did so without knowing that he could have had the possibility to not suffer through this curse alone, if that offered any conciliation, which it didn't.
Marco believed for so long that he missed his opportunity to become a father.
Charming didn't get to be a father because of him.
Unlike Mario, though, David did not spend the last twenty-eight years with the want of a child's love. However, their repercussions of the curse breaking were the same, even for Mary Margaret: the heavy guilt of abandoning a child.
The white light that surrounded August's body began to shrink. Mary Margaret expected to see the revelation of his human body as the light began to recede. Instead, the light revealed nothing.
What was going on?
The white light had reformed itself, taking the shape of a small body instead of a full-grown man. Marco's grasp around his son grew tighter as the light disappeared, the wooden puppet of an adult man replaced by a little boy. A little boy Mary Margaret recognized from the war table, sitting on the ground with his handmade toy whale. As Marco promised to craft a wardrobe to transport the unborn princess to safety, and the Blue Fairy delivering the nurse that there was only room for one.
They lied to you.
Mary Margaret's eyes had grown wide as her eyebrows furrowed together, her mouth hanging agape at the sight before her. She was upset, but she masked behind the sense of happiness that she was supposed to be feeling. She should be happy for Marco. She should be… happy? Happy that she'll never get this chance…?
August deserved a second chance, you've said. Was this the second chance you were expecting?
The second chance Mary Margaret had told August he deserved was to come and reunite with his father once again, after so long. August did need to be hiding in a trailer in the middle of the woods, not when there were people back in Storybrooke looking for him out of love.
She watched as that little boy stood and grabbed his father in a tight hug. Marco embraced him in return, holding him safe in his arms.
You'll never be able to hold Emma like that.
Mary Margaret should have been overcome with happiness at the sight before her, but, as she glanced over towards Emma, Mary Margaret could feel her heart growing heavy with grief, grief that was turning itself into anger. Marco had been right: he deserved so much more than a slap across the face.
You could have, though, held her like that, if he didn't lie to you and Charming.
She watched quietly as Emma called to Pinocchio, knelt down to his level, but the child did not remember what August was trying to warn them about. The child then returned to his father.
Mary Margaret glanced over towards David, who was blissfully unaware of the truth, of what Marco and Mother Superior kept from the both of them. How could she tell him? How could she tell him that at the very least, Emma could have known a mother's love?
You'll never have this second chance. Why does he deserve it?
As Henry ran past him to get David, he brushed against Mary Margaret, pulling her away from her thoughts and the whispering voice, and back into reality, a reality where she would not be taking back her young daughter home, a child she would never get to know or raise. There would be no do-over for them.
They missed those precious moments: her first smile and laugh, crawling and walking, her first gown and ball, her first riding lesson and perhaps even sword combat, knowing Charming. Cuts and bruises went un-kissed, stories went untold, nightmares were not comforted, and no tantrums were calmed.
They would get nothing; they would not get that chance.
Emma followed after Henry. Mary Margaret forced a smile that grew slightly more sincere as Emma leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her. Mary Margaret reciprocated the embrace, gently stroking her hand over Emma's long blonde hair. Mary Margaret held Emma tight, held her close.
But she was grateful, grateful for what they did have, even if it did leave her feeling empty.
End.