I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love
Even more than I usually do
And although I know
It's a long road back, I promise you
I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Chapter 1: Home is where the heart is
"Where is he?" asked Emma, pushing the door to Mr. Gold's shop unceremoniously.
"He, who?"
"Henry."
"Ahh... That."
Without raising his eyes from the set of silver spoons he was polishing, Mr. Gold's lips curled into a smirk.
"He left me this note," Emma continued, taking a piece of paper out of her red leather jacket.
"Then I take it you know where he is."
"He wouldn't have gone to New York if someone hadn't helped him."
"And you thought of me?," Mr. Gold had finally shifted his gaze to her face. "If I remember it well, it wasn't my credit card he stole when he decided to leave town for the first time...Looking for a parent, by the way," he said, giving her one of his trademark disdainful looks. "I see a pattern here."
"I have already checked with Mary Margaret. He hasn't taken her credit card."
"Yours, maybe? Regina's? Perhaps your fat-"
"Gold," Emma interrupted. "You're hiding something."
"No, my dear, I'm not. I know just as much as you do."
Upon his cryptic answer, Emma merely tilted her head to the side with a raised eyebrow.
"That children can be awfully perceptive, and that Henry is no exception," he added.
"What do you mean?"
"You wanted space, and my son did just that. He gave you space, by going back to his apartment in Manhattan. But he misses the boy, and the boy misses him, can you see where the trouble is?"
"I didn't tell him to go back to New Y-"
"No, you didn't. But as I said, children are awfully perceptive. And Henry knows that having his father hang around was making you uncomfortable."
"It was not mak-"
"And so," he interrupted again, "instead of calling his father home for Christmas, as we all know he wanted to, he chose to go meet his father instead."
And then, he paused, taking an instant to study her face.
"Very practical, don't you think?" he said quietly, resting his slender fingers on the counter. "That way, they get to spend time together without Neal imposing on you."
"Stop speaking like that..."
"Am I lying?" he asked, eyes fiery and daring as he waited for a response. "Do you want to spend Christmas with my son?"
Emma opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, eyes wide as she searched for the words to say.
"Y-Yes, I-I..." she stuttered. "We're a family."
"No, Ms. Swan, I don't think you understood my question," his voice was lower and slightly more serious, despite the smirk he was sporting. "But then, don't bother to."
"I understood your question," Emma replied, giving him a discreet eyeroll. "I'm just-"
"... not ready," he said, the look of disdain back on his eyes. "Yes, I know that. But see, the point is that my boy has been through a lot in his life, and it's a mistake to dwell on the past and forget to live."
The two of them exchanged a look full of contempt on his side and confusion on hers, until a light seemed to flicker in some dark corner of her brain.
Now, it all made sense.
"You told Neal to go back to New York!" she exclaimed.
"That I did," he admitted, walking round the counter to stand face to face with her. "He will never focus on the present with you hanging around, you mean far too much to him. But..." he raised a finger, his eyes once again gleaming as he spoke. "If there is one thing I learnt, and amazingly enough, from your father, is that now is all we have. Now, not tomorrow, not ten years from now when you might, or might not, be ready to give him another chance."
Emma took a step backwards when his voice grew even lower, his eyes piercing hers at every word.
"My son deserves to be happy. He deserves to be with someone that makes him feel as special as he is," he said, his voice, face and posture showing he couldn't possibly be calmer. "And sadly, I now realize that person is not you."
She swallowed, feeling the corners of her eyes prickle gently and wishing her heart would stop pounding so fast in her chest.
"I guess some things are just not meant to be," he added, before walking past her. "Now, if you will excuse me, I still have some Christmas shopping to do."
Her gaze dropped to the counter, and there it stayed for a very long minute, as if she were studying the items in display.
"Have a nice day, Ms. Swan."
"Emma?"
Her mother's voice made her jump. She took a moment to look around to get familiar with her surroundings: she had been so lost in thought that she had temporarily forgot she was back home, about to start helping Snow with the preparations for dinner.
"You look upset," she heard her mother say.
"Yeah. I guess I am."
"Is it because of Henry?"
"Yeah, this... thing with Neal, I just... I don't want him to suffer."
"Him?" Snow asked, raising her eyebrows as she picked up a brown paper bag and placed it near the stove. "You mean Henry? Or Neal?"
"Both..." Emma whispered, her face letting her sadness show. "It's just... That's not what I wanted for Henry. To feel I'm separating his father from him..."
"Emma, I'm sure that has never crossed his mind," said Snow, giving her daughter's arm a gentle squeeze. "And Henry is probably having a blast in New York."
"Maybe, but... we could have talked. Instead he just left a note, as if he was... running."
"Honey, I know it is not easy..." Snow let out a sad smile before speaking again. "I guess that's what all divorced parents go through, you'll have to learn how to share Henry, let him spend time with the other two parents he h-"
"Gold said something to me."
"Oh."
"He said I'm not the right person for Neal."
"Really?" Snow asked, after blinking a couple of times, unable to hide a frown. "He said that?"
"Yeah."
"And... what do you think about that?"
"I don't know. Maybe he's right," Emma whispered, staring blankly at the sink. "Maybe the two of us are just not meant to be."
Snow had just opened her mouth to speak when Emma woke up from her trance and reached for the brown paper bag near the sink.
"Whatever," she said. "I'll just... I'll help you with the dinner."
She had never been a fan of cooking, but she had to admit that peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables for the past two hours had taken her mind away from things she didn't want to think about.
"Emma?"
This time, it was her father's voice by her side.
"Hmmm?"
"I'm sure the parsley is well chopped by now."
She looked down at the green puree that had once been a bunch of fresh herbs.
"Oh," she put the knife down, scanning the kitchen as she tried to locate a clock to check what time it was.
"Why don't you... take a break?" asked Charming, resting a hand over her shoulder. "I have to go get some groceries, will you join me?"
"Okay."
"You look-"
"...upset," she said. "Yeah, I've been told."
"Christmas blues making another victim?"
She smirked as she wiped her hands on a dishcloth and followed his father into the living room, and from there to the porch.
Before entering her father's pickup truck, she took a moment to look at the Christmas lights and all the decoration her parents had placed outside. Had it always been their tradition, or were they only doing that because of her and Henry?
"David?"
"Yes?" he replied, halfway through opening the door to the driver's seat.
She smiled, taking that chance to approach her father and, after a moment of hesitation, wrap his arms around him.
"Thanks."
"What for?"
"Everything."
He felt him cradling her head, the way he always did when they hugged.
"You don't have to thank us for anything, Emma," he said, kissing her forehead after pulling away. "That's what family is for."
"I know."
She felt the corners of her eyes sting when she remembered all the holidays that she had spent on her own, as a child, waiting for a loving hug like that, for a family that she never knew she had.
"Now how do you say we go get those groceries?" she heard her father say, and another smile curled the corners of her lips.
"Yeah."
Not long after they both entered the car, though, she knew there was something off.
"David?" she asked, as soon as they hit the highway. "Why are we heading out of town?"
"Oh, I have another stop to make..."
"Where?"
"You'll see."
One hour had gone by, and they were still on the road.
"We are not shopping for groceries, are we?" Emma asked.
"I am. But you... I don't think so."
"Oh… " her mouth gaped a little when she finally sighted a sign that read 'Logan International Airport'. "Now hold on a minute..."
And then, they finally stopped.
"What is goin-"
"Emma," David interrupted, turning to look at his daughter. "What are you doing here?
"What?"
"Don't get me wrong, your mother and I would love to spend Christmas with you, but it's obvious this is not where you want to be."
Her eyes went wide, and she tripped on her own words before being able to phrase something coherent.
"I just... I guess I just wanted everyone to be together, that's all."
"I know that feeling. But things don't always happen the way we want to. We have to change plans all the time…" as he spoke, he reached for something inside one of the pockets of his jacket. "And that is not necessarily bad."
She felt her heart had skipped a beat when she saw what he was holding.
"Oh, David, no..."
"The plane leaves in less than one hour," he said, handing her the tickets for a flight to New York. "You'd better run."
She looked at her own hands as she grasped the voucher, unsure as to what to say or feel as she stepped out of the car.
"Hey wait," Charming called out. "Your mother packed you a few clothes."
He ran towards her to give her the backpack, and once again hug her.
"Merry Christmas, Emma," he whispered, before pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She closed her eyes, trying not to let her concerns take over at least for that brief moment in which her father had his arms around her.
"Thanks, dad," she said, a grateful smile on her lips as she waved him goodbye before rushing in and disappearing into the crowd inside the airport.