A/N: So this is really short, but I really, really wanted to write it. I know that I would love to see a scene like this on the show. Just someway to acknowledge Graham. This is unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own. I want to thank Dani-Ellie03 for pushing me to write this!
Her bedroom was plunged in darkness, only the light from the moon filtered in. She sat on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest. Emma's hands shook slightly as she picked up the limp jacket from its place beside her. Rubbing the leather between her fingers, she closed her eyes. The grief from that day was still with her, especially now. He had been right, and she hadn't believed him. It's all she can do to not go down the road of what if's. It was the road that was bright, full of happiness, because down that road, she had chose to believe him. Down that road, she had been able to save his life, and she had been happy because she had him in her life. However, traveling down that road only resulted in a broken heart, and tears.
It took her a moment before she realized that she still had no idea who he was. Obviously he was Graham, he was the sheriff of Storybrooke who told corny jokes and was able to bring an actual smile to her face. He was able to make her feel again, after she swore of the notion of feeling after the whole Neal debacle. What she didn't know was who he was in their land. With that thought fresh in her mind, Emma realized that she had to know. She knew that sleep wouldn't come until she figured this out.
A small, sad smile crossed her lips when her eyes found the thick, leather bound book. She picked it up, and grunted, still surprised by how heavy the book actually was. Pulling the thick, leather cover up, she let her fingers graze over it for a moment, before diving into the book. She saw pictures of her parents, off on another adventure. Curiosity bit at her, wanting to know all the details of her parent's past life, but shoving forward, she flipped through the book. The stories disjointed, and she wondered how Henry made much sense out of what was in the book. Page after page held something new, a new adventure for a different character. No, not a character from a book, these were people she knew, people she cared about.
After what felt like an eternity she landed on an image that looked vaguely familiar. Her nose wrinkled slightly, as her fingers grazed the picture. The illustration, though slightly disjointed to his actual appearance, was fairly spot on. Her eyes landed on the chapter title, and she smiled. The Huntsman. Her brow furrowed slightly as she attempted to remember what happened to the huntsman from the stories she read.
After a few minutes of pondering, she gave up with a huff. She had his actual story right in front of her, why not get the information from it? Digging into the story, her mouth etched itself into a frown. She quickly realized that she and Graham had much more in common than she could have ever guessed. He had been abandoned as well, and he was a loner... though his wasn't by choice. Finally, Regina came into the picture, and it took everything in Emma to be able to push forward. Her distaste for the woman would have to take a backseat. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she realized that the huntsman's job was to take her mother's heart. She swallowed thickly, knowing that he hadn't done that. Pushing herself forward, she felt tears welling in her eyes as she read about how he had let her mother go. She was nearly unable to stop the tears when she reached the part where Graham had lost his heart because he had been unwilling to take her mother's.
She couldn't read anymore, mainly because she knew how Graham's story ended. Without her permission, tears slipped down her cheeks. She swallowed past the lump in her throat in an attempt to stall them, but it was a fruitless effort. She knew in that moment that was exactly how she would remember Graham. Brave, strong, and selfless. Fighting for what he believed in, no matter the costs. In one realm it cost him his heart, and in another it cost him his life. Those, Emma realized, where far to high of costs.
Through blurry eyes, Emma saw the jacket that was still perched in her lap. With tears in her eyes, and a shaky hand, Emma held the thick, frayed fabric in her hand, and whispered, "Your sacrifice was honorable." She gasped, as a sob caught in her throat, "Thank you, Graham. Because of you, my mother is alive, I'm alive, and Henry's alive. There is no way for me to ever repay this debt to you. Just know that you will always be in my heart." She pulled his jacket to her face as the sobs finally took over. Her body shook violently, as the leather fabric muffled the sound.
After several long moments, her tears dried and her body felt heavy. Her eyelids drooped slightly. With a heavy sigh, Emma placed the book back in it's place under her nightstand, before climbing to her feet. Pulling back the comforter, Emma climbed into bed next to her son. She turned away from him, as she cradled Graham's jacket to her chest. For the briefest moment she thought about what had made her bring it home with her, but after a moment exhaustion overtook her conscious mind and she slowly drifted off to sleep.