~Thirteen Years Ago~
"So it is true then..." The trembling voice shakes her out of the bitter thoughts that had been running through her head for the past hours, the presence of disappointment easily hits as soon as the words are out. Facing back isn't an option, so she doesn't. Not even a single muscle contracts because she's so afraid the littlest move would make her turn into a big mess of tears and desperation. "I waited for you, I trusted you. I love you, damn it! At least tell me something, at least try!" The voice flows from angry, to sad, to desperate.
The next few minutes are of total awkwardness and silence, until one of them makes a decision. Until it's clear this is a game over. Until it's not worth anymore. Because two are needed to play this game and after all... Their team doesn't have a single player.
"I leave in the morning," Her voice is as dry as she has ever intoned before, and on the other side there's no struggle or resistance, even if she's a sucker for this girl she won't fall again, she won't be betrayed again, she won't open up, she won't have her heart broken.
Left alone past her own empty words she only turns away from the sea view moments ensuing the sound of footsteps and a small metallic object hitting the wood platform are gone.
~Present Time~
There's always that kind of person that only comes into your life to mess it up a little bit more than it already is messed up. And right now for Emma Swan, this very person is exemplified and represents nothing but an entire company getting under her skin.
The telephone certainly never heard as many threats as when she called for the tenth time, only today, to complain about the cable service. Incredible fact about it, she isn't actually complaining about its service or anything alike, she just simply wants to cancel her signature. And, honestly, how difficult can it be for the fucking attendant to get it? She has been asked for the, millionth time, if she wants new portable equipment that would adjust into her traveling needs.
She's just so tired of this bullshit, via cellphone, and if she hasn't done enough, she's about to shout the speech all over again. Seriously, who will she have to kill to get this thing out of her life once and for all? Are those telemarketing people just dumb or cynical? Whichever the answer may be, she's not sticking around to hear it. Without any warnings; the woman on the other line deserved it and Emma doesn't regret it, not even close. She finishes the call placing the phone back on its station with as much wrath as she can. It will survive, she thinks. If she didn't die of nerves after the whole three hours going from one attendant to another, the small phone would survive.
She decides then to go take a shower and try to relax. It's her last night in Boston, she's going back to Storybrooke in the morning. When her thoughts led her to this fact, her stomach started to feel nauseating. It had been so long without making any contact with anyone from the little town but her sister, Mary Margaret. It's been too long without seeing, or hearing, or sensing, or anything that could have to do with Regina Mills.
That woman ruined her life so majestically beautifully that she enjoyed every minute of it. Every minute, but the last few ones. She didn't even get to say a proper goodbye, but how could she? Regina would never want to look her in the face anyways. Not after she tried to walk away leaving no warnings behind.
The thought of Regina always comes back, and Emma thinks of herself as a true masochist, because she welcomes them every time they make an appearance. It's something she's been dealing with since day one out of town. It doesn't seem to matter where she is, what battles she's fighting, they always take her mind. She can't help but feel insulted when night comes and they don't.
Today has also been her last visit to the doctor's office, it's been two and a half years since they started and it still feels totally annoying that she can't have her normal routine back. Not that she expects things to be as they were before the, uh, accident? Yeah, it was a hell of an accident. For a moment she wishes the phone of the cable TV company is answered by a reasonable person just as at the doctor's office.
Her coming back to Storybrooke isn't permanent, she reminds herself. Just the funeral.
It's rather strange how she's going back to bury the very man who had nothing to do with her life for the long run, that only shared a house for like months and genetic resembles. But there she goes come morning.
With most of her belongs already packed without much effort she drops the trunk of the fresh new Turbo Beetle closed and hits the road. It doesn't take long to reach her destination, only stopping for a quick snack, the trip to Storybrooke is as pleasing as it can be. With gorgeous sights, pure air, and only her favorite tunes to break the silence. But the minute she crosses the town's welcome sign, indicating she's reached past the border of Storybrooke, fuzziness takes over her stomach.
Storybrooke is a small peaceful town, always has been. The kind of city where everyone knows everyone, new people are instantly in the spotlight, they are mostly friendly and neighborly, not exactly the most open-minded but respectful nonetheless, gossips travels like plague and falling out of their places is top reason for earned glares.
As soon as she's rolling through the Main Street, Emma snaps, "What the hell?" Because she really didn't expect the town to be nearly the same as thirteen years ago. There's still the same old places. The small stores through the street, the school, the playground, the town hall, Granny's Diner and B&B, the cars, the movie theater... It's all exactly the same. As if time stuck there, everything being so similar, so familiar. For some messed up reason the only thing that seems to have grown is the library's clock tower, finally fixed as well as the library itself.
Emma drives past everything taking notice of the details she's able to catch, until she reaches the sea view. Her smile blossoms when she sees the old wooden castle still standing, compared to the rest of town that seems to have never been renewed. Barely even there. An untouched part of town. She stops and sites for a few long minutes before finally heading to her sister's loft.
From the outside, the old building still has the looks of an abandoned fabric, but as soon as Emma goes through the front door she notices the huge changes, it looks cozy, welcoming and warming. And just as she steps in the hallway the scent of homemade cookies reaches her nose, and she breathes it in with pleasure. She can't recall the last time she ate anything that hadn't come from her microwave or a fast-food restaurant, Emma had no idea how much she actually missed it.
She takes a deep breath as to encourage herself before finally knocking three times, her baggage lying on the floor and the box of soon to be returned equipment. She shifts her weight from foot to foot nervously, and bites her lower lip while noticing the sweat on the palm of her hands.
Could her sister take any longer to open the fucki-
"Hey." A tall, blonde haired man, about her age opens the door frowning. He seems familiar, but the name is just not coming. "Emma?!" His frown is nearly gone as he finally recognizes her, and Emma a bit embarrassed that she has no idea of his identity.
Her mouth is moving to respond, but she's beat by the one and only Mary Margaret coming to her rescue. "Honey, who is it?" She yells from inside while approaching the door. "Emma?!" Mary says using the same tone of said, "Honey".
And not too much later it hits Emma. Her sister used to date a jerk back in high school, blonde, tall, popular, snob. What's his name again? John? No. Jason. No, not Jason. Jami- James! That's it!
The years were definitively generous to him. His ridiculous mustache is gone, the curly hair is shorter. He's rather handsome. And friendly.
"Hey... James, isn't it?" She says snapping out of her analysis and offering a hand to be shaken, which he takes hesitantly.
James suddenly feeling the awkwardness between the two of them, makes up an excuse and leaves after hugging Emma's sister and hesitating again before saying a rushed "Nice to see you again" to Emma, and leaving.
"You came." Mary says with a hint of skepticism, and Emma understands the reaction. It's not long before she sees the start of watering in her sister's eyes. And crying people is near the top of things Emma doesn't deal well with.
"Brought you cable?!" She offers with a smile, before the sentimental moment could kick in.
Thankfully, Mary Margaret gets the hint and holds her emotions before chuckling and making way for Emma while grabbing one of her bags.
It's awkward at first. Mary offers to take her sister on a quick tour, and helps her settle into the guest room. Emma sets the cable equipment in the living with promises to install. Mary has no idea why she goes around with those appliances, she just shrugs it off. They exchange news for a while, both not wanting to talk about what had brought Emma back. Eventually, there isn't an escape.
Especially when Emma faces doctorly questions such as "How are you healing?" or "Does it hurt? Is physiotherapy working?" So she just puts them to the side and turns the focus to their father's passing. Emma only ran through the basics; meaning no murder, it was lung failure, he suffered through the last few days. The doctors blamed his smoking habits and bad diet. And finally, yes. He did mention Emma, and left her something.
Mary Margaret hands her the letter, Emma takes it, but doesn't open it. She just decides to take a shower, and relax. It's dark already, and just after Emma turns off the water she hears someone knock on the apartment door. She assumes it's James back. But when she climbs downstairs, she is faced with a small boy of about six, maybe seven years old and freezes. Kids are at the very top of things Emma doesn't deal with. "Mary! Someone forgot their kid in your living room!"
The boy doesn't mind her one tiny bit, simply smiling at her, spontaneously. Friendly. Admirably. Innocently. What's wrong with this kid? She asks herself.
"This is Henry, he is the Mayor's son! We're babysitting him for the night." Mary Margaret informs her from the kitchen.
"Are we?!" Emma asks doubting the imposed fact.
"Henry, this is my sister. Emma."
He smiles at her with his few missing teeth, so adorable. And again, what's wrong with this kid?!
"Hi, Miss Emma!"
He extends a hand to her and Emma just stares at it with a frighten glare. When he starts to pout she immediately reaches for it. She just has a feeling that she's damn lost with him.