Author's Note: Hey everyone! In honor of the musical episode I decided to start a singing soulmates AU. It's inspired by a tumblr post I saw literally forever ago.
These first two chapters are going to be background information with the real action starting in chapter 3 so please bear with me! I promise the chapters will get longer once I get into the action. Hope you enjoy!
Emma Swan was born with a song in her head. A Gaelic lullaby that stayed with her as her parents thrust her into a wardrobe and she fell into a new realm. The deep, melodic voice kept her calm when she fell out of a tree on to the side of the road.
The voice stayed with her through her early years. Nearly every day she would hear a song in her head. A song that was not being sung by anyone around her. It was the only thing that could get her to calm down, despite the fact that more often than not, the songs were bawdy sailors tunes not meant for children's ears.
Even with the near constant music between her ears, Emma didn't start to sing until she was nearly three years old. The Swan's hadn't been a musical family and the tunes in her head were not ones that she'd be able to join in on. But then she'd moved homes for the first time. The Swan's had their own kid, so they'd put Emma back in the system. Her next house decided that the best way to handle children was to sit them in front of the TV for as much time as possible. It was through this practice that Emma started to sing for the first time.
It was the middle of summer and Emma was the only child left inside. She was the youngest child at the home and got left out whenever the others went to play. Not that she really minded. She had the voice in her head to keep her company. Her foster mother hadn't wanted to deal with her so Emma found herself alone in front of the TV. A well-worn VHS tape of Snow White playing. While she was watching the voice in her head started up again. A soft song, like one sung under the breath. It was normal. The voice was almost always singing something. It was usually quiet, like they were singing to themselves. Sometimes they were loud and yelling, like her foster parents when they had too much of the adult juice she wasn't supposed to touch. Emma had tried talking to the voice before but it never responded. Never even made any indication that it noticed her. So she'd stopped talking to it. Today, though, she would sing to it. Like it had sung to her for as long as she could remember.
Emma had seen Snow White hundreds of time, it was the only movie they thought was appropriate for her age and therefore what they put on every time she was left inside. When Snow White started to sing, Emma sang along. She knew this music by heart. Almost as soon as she started she heard the voice in her mind wobble then stop completely. It didn't deter Emma, though. The voice often stopped without warning. She just kept singing along to the film until halfway through when her foster siblings came back in and yelled at her to be quiet.
The voice was silent for the rest of the week and Emma didn't try to sing to him again. She was scared that she'd driven him away. She missed him. That voice was her only friend. She tried asking her foster family about it, trying to figure out what she'd done wrong, but they just told her that he was imaginary. That people didn't have voices in their heads to sing to them. She knew he was real but no one would believe her. So she stopped asking.
Emma was nearly asleep when she heard it. The loud singing she'd been missing for the past week. She looked around quickly to hear if anyone else could hear, but like always, no one else stirred. It was her mystery friend. He was back. A huge smile appeared on her face as she listened to the obscene song. She didn't understand what it meant but that didn't matter. He hadn't left her.
/
Through the next three years Emma was in 12 different foster and group homes. The only constant she had in her life was the voice in her head. It had changed over the years. There were fewer bawdy songs, and when they did appear the words were slurred together. He had resumed the quiet singing through the day. It had been a slow process, it wasn't until nearly a year after she'd first sung that he was back to the constant singing. But it happened eventually which was all that mattered. It was probably the only thing keeping Emma sane as she dealt with a near endless stream changing homes and families. At least whenever she changed homes, she had a friend with her. Even if he was only in her mind.
There was another thing that never changed. Every year on her birthday he sang the same lullaby. It wasn't really for her. But he did sing it every year. And every year it was her favorite present.
She'd also started singing back to him. There were of course the music classes in school where she had to sing along with the group. But she didn't stop it there. Emma was learning to tell his emotions through what he was singing. She recognized the songs that he sung when he was sad or lonely. And then she'd sing back. She thought he could hear her too and hoped that she was cheering him up. They still couldn't talk, she had no idea who he was or what he looked like, but he was her best friend and she wanted to make him feel better.
But then he stopped. For nearly a year there was complete silence between her ears. The only music she heard came from the world around her. So she cried. He was her best friend and he'd left her without a word. She still sang to him during that time. When she missed him most she would sing through her tears. She didn't know many songs, just the silly ones she learned at school and parts of ones her foster siblings would play on the radio, but she still sang.
The silence stopped on her birthday. She woke up to the lilting lullaby softly echoing in her brain. At first she thought she'd imagined it. That he was still gone. But it didn't stop. For near the entire day he kept singing to her. Despite the fact that she was only seven years old she thought he sounded like he was sorry. He was definitely sad. So before she went to sleep, she responded to him. She sang the lullaby along with him.
/
Over the next decade Emma lost the music. The voice in her head had never resumed singing at the same rate it used to. And as she got older, Emma didn't try to respond. Sure every birthday she heard the lullaby, but she convinced herself it was all in her head. It was just her mind playing tricks on her. No one had ever heard of hearing someone singing to them in their mind, she'd checked. It was just her childhood self wanting a friend. And when she did hear the voice, it was just wishful thinking. And she wouldn't play into it.
Her loneliness was what drew her to Neal. He understood her. He didn't pressure her to go back to the system. He was just with her. And it was fun. The voice was practically silent now, it was easy for her to ignore it. To focus on her life with Neal Cassidy.
She enjoyed the months she spent with him, falling into an almost domestic bliss. They made plans to run away together. To give up their life of crime and get honest work. Emma was thrilled. Then the day before they were going to fence the watches, the day before they were going to move on together, a crack appeared.
Emma was humming absentmindedly while packing their stuff into the back of the yellow bug. She didn't think humming counted as singing, no danger of it transmitting to the mystery man. Not that he was real. She heard Neal come up behind her and expected some sort of physical affection. He usually would wrap his arms around her or give her a kiss on the cheek. But this time, nothing came. Emma stopped humming and turned to face him. His eyes were wide with shock and his face was drained of color.
"Where did you hear that song?" he almost whispered.
"What song?" Emma was confused. She hadn't been singing, she didn't do that anymore. She racked her brain trying to figure out what she was humming but she hadn't been paying attention.
"That lullaby." Neal looked almost angry as he stared at her.
"Lullaby?" she realized she must have been humming the song that she heard every year on her birthday. "Oh sorry, I didn't realize what I was humming."
"Where did you hear is?"
"Neal? What's wrong?"
"Where did you hear it Emma!" His voice was shaking with anger and he looked almost scared.
"I've always know it, what's this about? It's just a song."
"Who sang it to you?"
"I don't know, I've just always known it!" She wasn't about to tell him about the man in her head, she didn't need him thinking she was crazy.
"Fine." Neal turned away from her, obviously dissatisfied. "Let's go."
Emma followed, confused about why he was so upset with her. It was just a song. He didn't talk to her for the rest of the day. When they found a motel room for the night she decided to just tell him about the voice. It was better than have him ignore her. So once the lights were off and they were in bed, she worked up her courage.
"Hey, Neal?" she spoke softly. He didn't reply but she heard him shift beneath the sheets to face her. "I want to tell you something."
Emma could see the light reflecting off of his eyes. He stayed silent. She took a deep breathe to steady herself before continuing.
"I know this is going to sound crazy, and it probably is but you have a right to know. Now I realize that this isn't going to make any sense but here it goes." Neal was still staring at her, unmoving. "That song from earlier today, I've known it for as long as I can remember. I probably just heard it somewhere as a child, that's the only thing that makes sense. But, well, when I was little I had this imaginary friend who would sing to me." She noticed the Neal stiffened at this but she kept going. Emma knew it was weird but she needed to tell someone about him. The mystery man. And maybe Neal would believe her.
"Every year on my birthday they would sing me the same song, that lullaby I was humming earlier today. I know it must have just been my imagination but when I was a kid they would always be singing to me. I probably made them up so I would have a friend when I kept getting shuffled around to different homes."
"Do you still hear them?" Emma jumped a little when Neal spoke, she hadn't expected him to respond.
"Yeah, sometimes," she admitted. "It's not like every day or even every month or anything. But yeah, I do still hear them sometimes. I know it's weird."
Neal didn't speak again, he just looked at her. She could feel the tension in the room but had no idea what to do to fix it. Eventually, she just fell asleep. Neal was gone when she woke up. On his place in the bed was a note saying he would meet her later and giving her a drop location for the watches.
She almost wasn't surprised when the cops turned up at the spot she was supposed to meet Neal. Her story had scared him off. What did surprise her were the two pink lines on the pregnancy test they'd had her taken in the prison. She was not ready to be a mother.
Despite all of that, as her stomach grew she found herself singing again. It calmed her to give music to this baby she would never hold. Sometimes she would sing popular music, sometimes silly things she made up, but she always came back to the lullaby. It had given her so much comfort through her life that it just felt right to sing it now.
There was never anyone singing back. It helped her convince herself that it had always just been a part of her imagination. Just a childhood wish for a friend. A wish that she'd grown too attached to.
She gave birth and refused to even look at the child that had come out of her. She didn't need the desire to keep it on top of everything else. She heard the cries. She continued looking away as they got softer and softer. And then nothing. It was gone. And she cried. Singing the lullaby through her tears.
This time there was a response. A deep voice joining her and quietly singing along with her. The voice was back. She was too emotionally drained to care.
/
It was Emma's 28th birthday. She'd moved on with her life. She had a job, an apartment, and she never sang. Her mind was filled only with her. There hadn't been songs in years. Even the lullabies on her birthday had stopped. And she was in no way disappointed. At all. It was just her imagination after all. She pretended her ears weren't straining for the hint of the accented voice that had kept her company as a child. He wasn't real. She blew out the candle on her cupcake. This was her life. No one wanted to be around Emma Swan.
Then came a knock at her door. She opened it to discover a child. Her child. And to top everything off, the voice she hadn't heard in near a decade started to sing again.