okay, this thing took a while. if you know me at all (or follow me on tumblr) you'd know that i was pissed after the season three finale b/c i don't think zelena should have died (so much potential character development and sister storylines trashed) and i just wanted to write this thing b/c henry's the sweetest kid in the fucking universe.
drops some swears, lots of parenthetical emma thoughts, and confessions.
enjoy :)
i don't own shit. rebecca maden can call me anytime, though.
It starts when Henry goes back to school and there is no one to watch him after the day is done. The Charmings were up to their necks in little Neal (even more so now that the town had decreed Snow the new mayor), Regina was busy cleaning herself up after Robin, Hook got a job at the Rabbit Hole most nights, and with the return of his wife Robin and little Roland had dropped out of the heroes' inner circle. Beyond that, Emma didn't really trust anyone else with her son, and Henry explained that sitting in Granny's all afternoon with a computer slower than David's truck gave him headaches, so she let him do his homework at the station. He made his camp in the small sitting area outside her office, sitting crosslegged next to the coffee table each day after school, either deep in a textbook or playing away on his Gameboy. Emma glanced up every so often to check on him through the glass, but things went smoothly enough.
The Sheriff really was only there to do desk work and answer phone calls after all of the chaos had subsided and to, well, keep an eye on Zelena, who was still demurely sitting in her cell after a month of containment. As Storybrooke had no other means of detainment besides the dark corridors of Regina's "intensive care unit" Emma was forced to keep Zelena in the station. Regina had done more pleading for her sister than Emma had ever seen, save for when Regina was in the process of convincing Henry she loved him.
The woman's presence was a large factor in Emma's anxiety towards allowing Henry occupancy of the coffee table. The auburn haired witch gave the boy a small glance when he first appeared, guarded by his blonde mother, but other than that she sat silently mere feet from him each day.
Emma worried little about leaving the station unattended at night; as long as there was a very strong spell in place everything would be fine. They'd already had to fight a murderous Rumpelstiltskin who was still boiling over his son's murder, but the Dark One and his wife were off on their honeymoon and it was doubtful they'd be back anytime soon. Emma wondered if Zelena ever took the time to make any noise, as she only spoke a small amount of words when asked direct questions. There were the small scoffs and amused noises she made whenever someone came in to antagonize Emma, but that was the most of it.
Once Emma knew that Zelena would be a longterm resident of her station, she had the dwarves rebuild the couple of cells so that they were better fit to the witch. There was a bathroom installed, a single bed (she didn't want to know what could be lurking in the twenty-eight year old cot's mattress), and a small chest that kept Zelena's clothing and other things. Emma checked it every once and a while just to make sure Zelena wasn't plotting anything. During the construction, Regina had babysat her older sister at the manor, but for now she was destined to stay imprisoned as long as the sheriff and former mayor saw fit.
While checking on Henry, Emma noticed more often how Zelena sat on her bed and read from the books Regina had dropped off (the Sheriff still couldn't quite figure out the relationship that was forming between the two sisters) or she wrote in a notebook Emma had flung through the bars after Zelena's incessant fingernails had tapped one too many times along the brick walls. There was a small television near Henry that displayed news programmes or some television show or other that they fourteen year old boy had enjoyed back in New York, but the witch usually kept her gaze in her cell or out one of the windows. In her pensive moments she took to fiddling with the leather cuff around her wrist (no one really trusted that her magic had just disappeared).
As Henry's presence became a constant in the station and Storybrooke settled down into regular small town shenanigans, Emma watched changes appear in the older woman.
Emma knew that Henry had friends, and that he enjoyed his quiet experience at the station each afternoon. He always managed to cause a wistful smile on his mother's face whenever she told him to go get himself into trouble, leaving with a reluctant backward glance toward her glass office.
One day, while Emma's cleaning up his books after shooing the young boy out into the autumn wind, Zelena speaks willingly to her for the first time since coming back from the Enchanted Forest.
"He doesn't like to leave you, does he?" Zelena says and the thud of a textbook sounds throughout the quiet station as Emma drops it in surprise. She glances over to the striking woman and picks up the dropped book before answering, Zelena waiting patiently for an answer with her legs tucked underneath her, hands on her lap.
"Making up for lost time, I'm guessing." Emma answers and it might occur to her that Zelena doesn't know the full story of their disjunct family, but it seems that the other woman understands. "He's a very sweet boy."
Zelena hums in response and chews her bottom lip.
"I know he's yours, he looks too much like Snow White not to be, but my sister is also his mother. Were the two of you romantic?" Emma has to stop herself from laughing at the question, because all she remembers are the early days when Regina constantly attempted to kill her. Like her sister, Zelena is very blunt and Emma chides herself internally for being surprised by that fact.
"No, nothing like that. I was very young when I had Henry and I wasn't ready for him." She sighed, pausing to remember one of her saddest memories. Emma decides not to mention that Family and Children Services had come close to deeming her unfit to raise him. She flung it from her mind, however, continuing to clean up Henry's abandoned workspace. Regina raising him really did nothing to improve the messiness he inherited from Emma. "He was put up for adoption and through Rumplestiltskin, came to be Regina's."
"I see." The witch pursed her lips. "How'd you end up in all of this, Saviour?"
"Henry came and found me when he was eleven and dragged me into this town."
Zelena hummed once more and the conversation was finished.
Later, when Emma and Henry are curled on opposite sides of the white couch surfing Netflix (it's Friday, so they are without the fear of Regina scolding them for watching a movie on a school night), he pauses in his mission of hitting Emma's nose with popcorn missiles. She wipes the butter off the tip of her nose and smiles at him.
"Do you think she's lonely? Zelena?" He asks and for a small moment Emma is reminded of the boy she met three years ago who was so open and loving of most everyone he encountered. He had a lot of his grandmother (it was still weird to refer to Mary Margaret as anything other than her curse name) in him, she realized, but three years of fighting, death, and chaos changed her son. He may be very weathered, but at times Emma sees the spirited boy who knocked on her door all that time ago.
"As lonely as any orphaned criminal can be, Henry."
He doesn't respond, he only comes to snuggle into her side. Emma is reminded of their tranquil year in New York and kisses the top of her son's head.
"Is having children young frowned upon here?"
It's another empty afternoon at the station and Emma had been preparing to leave to go home to the manor, but Zelena's clipped, accented voice cuts through her process. She eyes the witch skeptically, coming to rest against the couch adjacent the cell. Emma assumed it was a continuation of their previous conversation from early the week before and she takes time before answering. It didn't surprise her that Zelena was clueless to the functions of Emma's world, but she had thought that the masquerading midwife must have had to do some research before sinking her teeth into Mary Margaret.
"Generally, yes. Even more if you're unmarried." Emma stopped herself from thinking about it too deeply, knowing she'd only get stuck in a pit of anger she didn't want to deal with. "Henry's father was my boyfriend—a lover of sorts—but he left; abandoned me before he knew about my pregnancy."
Zelena seems to know who she is talking about (it wasn't hard to connect the dots of their family tree once one thought about it for a while, and Zelena had much time to think) and makes a noise of displeasure.
"I see Rumplestiltskin's spawn is just as cowardly as he was." I'm glad I killed him, she does not say, but Emma can see it in her eyes. "He's much older than you. When did you have Henry?"
"Why is it important to you?" Emma bites back bitterly.
"Context, dearie, simply context," Zelena sighs.
"I met Neal—Baelfire—when I was seventeen, and I got pregnant. Neal was twenty-four. I..was very naïve."
Again, like last time, Zelena hums, and the discussion is finished.
Emma leaves the station and goes home to see her son and her pirate sitting in the living room, heads together in a discussion of their own, Regina no doubt preparing dinner in the kitchen. The males are deep in their talk about something masculine, but Killian looks up and notices the cloud over her. Her thoughts are in a disarray as he smiles at her, but she walks over and accepts the smile with a kiss. Emma ruffles Henry's hair after he emits a noise of disgust.
She makes her way towards the kitchen, not missing the soft spoken comment Killian makes, chuckling.
"You'll understand one day, lad."
Emma drifts to the island silently, watching Regina stir what was most likely some form of pasta. In the few quiet moments Regina grants her, she compares the similarities she's found in the two sisters. She thinks about Cora, who Emma knew very briefly, but very quickly understood why the Mills women were as fucked as they were.
"Ms. Swan, are you going to float around my kitchen until the sauce burns, or are you going to help me?" Regina's rich voice quips from her turned back and Emam chuckles again, setting her coat on a stool and coming to stand beside her son's mother. She helps to finish dinner, Regina only speaking to give her instructions, all the while the memory of her seventeen year old self handing a stolen watch to the officer weighing on her mind.
The Monday after Emma's second encounter with a now-speaking Zelena, the two females are in their respective boxes when Henry breezes in. He's carrying a tray and bag from Granny's, no doubt, and pushes his way into Emma's office. Henry hands her a bear claw and a coffee (bless him for forgoing the hot chocolate she loved but didn't always need). He goes to set the tray down on the coffee table and flings his bag onto the couch, grabbing his own beverage. The fourteen year old attempts to tell Emma all about his day while simultaneously scarfing down a grilled cheek sandwich, and she has to stop him before he chokes. She eyes the tray, where a third cup rests next to milk and sugar packets, a stir stick sitting on top.
Henry quiets and then tilts his head toward the stoic prisoner, who currently had her head buried in an edition of Wicked (Henry had slipped it into the pile), he brow furrowed in an array of emotions. The boy smiles at his mother and exits her office, depositing his hot chocolate on the table and picking up the tray. He moves towards the cell and tentatively places the tray as close as he can, where Zelena can reach. With her door closed, Emma can't hear a word of what's being spoken, so she misses whatever Henry says to gain the witch's attention. Zelena stared wide-eyed at the teenager without responding and Henry turned away, plopping down onto the couch.
In her cell, Zelena's mind is reeling as she replays the boy apologizing for not knowing her favourite brew (English Breakfast comes to mind, but Orange Pekoe is always fine), setting the paper tray down in front of her, a bright smile gracing his lips before he finds his usual spot to do homework.
It takes her a considerable amount of time to gather herself before she puts down her book, slipping on her flats, and pads the short distance to her gift, bending to bring it through the bars. The cup is still quite warm against her palm as she sets it on the chest next to her cot that she interchanges for a table most days. Zelena opens the lid and removes the tea bag, depositing her preferred amount of milk and sugar before sipping the hot liquid.
Holding the small cup to her chest, she notices a small pit of warmth in her stomach that she knows is not from the tea, and wills herself not to cry.
Looking over the small sitting area, she watches the boy bent over his books, and then catches the eyes of the sheriff through her glass confines. Zelena finds Emma's eyes narrowed in her direction, but for once they are not cold.
The blonde watches the gaunt woman as she sips her tea, still standing in the middle of her cell dumbly as if she cannot fathom her situation and Emma chews on the pen between her lips. She moves to take a gulp of coffee and wonders how the kid could be so kind to someone who almost killed him. Again, the small face in her doorway greets her mind, and she smiles softly, leaving thoughts of Zelena to do some work.
Eventually, she notices Zelena sit back down out of the corner of her eye, her copy of Wicked in one hand and her tea in the other. Emma wonders how she got stuck fixing Regina's fucked up family.
"How did the imp's son abandon you?" She asks as Emma comes to switch off Fox News (if Zelena's going to be influenced it better not be that shit) and the Sheriff sighs. It seemed like Zelena was hellbent on wheedling information from her now that she'd given her a small bite of her life. Emma places her hands on the top of the television and has to gather herself. Neal is dead, yes, but she still feels all of the hurt and sorrow that she did in jail and the years after that where she tried to find him (she didn't, even Canada had no trace of the bastard).
"We were both thieves, both on the run. I was running from the foster care system that treated me like shit for sixteen years, and he was just a low life stealing cars and seducing young girls." Emma laughs, despite herself, and the sound is bitter. She makes her way to Zelena, who is standing in the center of her cell, arms crossed. Her unruly hair is over one shoulder, and a hand is tangled in it. "Neal promised me a lot of things—love, a happy ending. Home."
"Those who makes promises often break them, Sheriff." Zelena says, her icy eyes flashing with something Emma doesn't want to know about. "Yes, my dear, you were quite naïve."
Emma nods, fiddling with the zip on her leather jacket. It's the red one this time (it's worn and it feels like home even though it's been through hell) and the deep crimson reminds her of the countless blood she's had on her hands. Her fists clench.
"Neal got caught—he'd stolen a bunch of watches worth almost twenty thousand. He promised me he'd meet me and take me away; gave me a watch to let me know he was telling the truth."
"Except he wasn't." The witch finishes for her.
"No. Neal sold me out to the authorities and a cop came and found me. He was probably the kindest one I've ever come across." Kinder than Neal ever could have been. "I was put in jail. They gave me eleven months. Neal was nowhere to be found."
"Do you still hate him, Saviour?" Zelena steps forward, hands moving to her hips.
The women lock eyes and Emma says nothing before walking out of the station.
"Yes," she says out loud to herself in the front of her yellow bug.
She wonders how much damage she'll go through if she crashes the damn thing that started everything.
Days later, Emma is out on a call (Ruby rear ended Whale for standing her up the previous night) and she walks back into the station to see Henry sitting cross-legged in front of the cell. Emma is holding a tray (there's three beverages this time) and she has to stop herself from dropping them all when she notices Zelena opposite her son. Her legs are tucked under her, her hands clutched around playing cards.
"Got any threes?" Henry asks the confused woman and she shakes her head as her brow knits together. He chuckles as Emma silently sets the tray on the table, retrieving her own coffee. She makes eye contact with Zelena and says nothing, but the other woman's cold eyes understand her thoughts.
"It's Go Fish, Z." He reminds her, and Emma takes that moment to flee to her office.
Emma spends the rest of the afternoon leant against her desk, watching the pair go through several card games. When Henry opens the door to announce their departure, the Sheriff is surprised. She flicks her gaze to Zelena, who is standing next to a window, staring pensively outside it. She has a stack of paper cups piled in her trash bin.
The car ride home goes the opposite way that she intends (why does she expect anything different these days, really), Emma asking her son about Zelena. She tries (and fails) to leave the concerned, critical tone out of her voice as the boy stares out the window, much like the witch had, thinking on his answer.
"Zelena's my aunt and she's sad. I know you see it too." He replies simply, Emma's knuckles going white against the steering wheel of her damned vehicle.
Emma recalls all of her small conversations with Zelena about her past, about how she is a hypocrite for what she is about to say to Henry, but she's an adult dammit, and it's not as easy to break her heart these days (she says so, but she's really unsure). Zelena can try and strip her walls but she can't act on any of the information, trapped in her little cell (Emma thinks of Graham, cold on the floor of the station, and her heart tightens).
"Henry," Emma sighs. "Zelena is a very dangerous person, and I don't want her to end up hurting you." Not like everyone has hurt me. Like I've hurt you.
The boy rounds on his birth mother with an incredulous look.
"Don't you see what's happening? To her?" He asks in a very loud tone and Emma tries not to look at him. "She's rotting away in that cell, ma. She's so lonely—empty without her magic." Don't tell me you don't know what that feels like, he doesn't say. "I know her magic was the problem, but it doesn't stop me from noticing how lost she is without it."
Henry pauses, searching her face for something she can't give him.
"Emma," he uses her name instead of ma, mom, princess leia. "She was abandoned as a baby; her life made her into the Wicked Witch, but I know that she can change." At a red light she finally looks at him. "Zelena can change, just like mom."
"Henry, she killed your father." (Not that she cares, really, because it's something she'd wanted to do for a very long time). "Zelena almost killed the baby," (she can't say its name), "and she almost killed you. She may be Regina's sister, but she is not..family, Henry." She hates saying these things, hates that his face hardens with each word. The light turns green. "I know you want to help her. Fix her, whatever. It's not that easy, kid. Zelena has dedicated too much of herself to being 'wicked' that she can't see past it; can't see past the jealousy and anger long enough to be a good person. She doesn't have anything to center her, whereas Regina had you."
"Yeah, well maybe she can have me, too." His tone is bitter (she wants to cry because he's becoming her, becoming the part of her that she knew was the reason she gave him up) and Henry is out of the car before she can fully pull into the driveway.
Emma turns the car off, rushing after him. She calls out his name, but he is already up the stairs and slamming his door before she can clear the foyer.
She curses, throwing her car keys onto the table. Emma kicks off her shoes, hanging her coat on the rack as she hears a door open upstairs. She looks up to see Killian exiting their bedroom, hands (both human and wood alike) on the banister. He cocks an eyebrow and she huffs, waving a hand in his direction.
"Don't ask," she spits, kicking her boots across the hall. Ignoring his descent, she makes her way into the kitchen to antagonize Regina about her damn sister and son.
A week has passed since the car ride and Henry has not come to the station at all. Zelena makes Emma very aware of the young boy's absence and the blonde's heart clenches each time she passes the empty couch.
"Where's your boy then, Ms. Swan?" Zelena inquires as the sheriff shuffles in Friday after a patrol. If the witch didn't have the English lilt to her voice she'd think the woman was Regina, the patronizing tone addressing her formally. Emma's response is a sigh and Zelena's hum warrants an understanding. "Have you banned him from me completely, then?"
"No, Zelena. I was trying to remind him of who you are and how dangerous you can be." Emma pockets her keys and walks toward the cell. She sits on the arm of the couch while Zelena stays in her regular poised position on her bed. Feet tucked under her, hands in her lap, she could be a painting. Her auburn hair, which has grown much longer and more unruly without the help of product, is twisted into a misshaped bun on the crown of her head.
"How easy it is for you Charmings to dismiss the villains." Her response is quiet, but it does not lack bite. "I wonder how my sister stands all of you."
"We're not talking about Regina. However, I can tell you that she finds me as equally annoying as you probably do." Emma is tired and she brushes hair from her face, blonde strands flying over her shoulder. "You, though, only see me eight hours a day."
"Mm, I'm sure your constant presence must be salt in her wounds. What, with your pirate always by your side, she must be drowning." Zelena smirks and Emma's eye roll (they were always so fucking dramatic, the Mills women). "You should have left that damned forest wench to burn."
The comment stings Emma because she knows how positively shaken Regina is after Robin's departure, after her stupid fucking mistake of being the Saviour every damn second of the day. Marion still refuses to believe the idea of a changed Regina, and so the women stay very much separate. Emma can see the way Emma misses Roland. The former mayor set her apple tree on fire the afternoon she found a sippy cup in the back of the cupboard.
"I don't have the energy to talk about your sister's emotional stability, Zelena. We were talking about Henry."
Emma waits for Zelena to say something, but her icy eyes only look to the Saviour for exploration on the subject.
"Ever since Mary Margaret gave Henry that friggin' book, he's believed in everything and anyone. I'll skip all the details, but Henry believes, as old as he is, that he can help everyone on the entire planet. Good or evil—wicked, even." An auburn eyebrow twitches and Emma knows she's hit something.
"And you, all-knowing Saviour, think I can't be helped."
Please stop calling me that. I'm nothing. I'm not a saviour. I've got no fucking idea what that means.
"I think, Zelena, that it will take a lot more than tea and card games to change you." Emma's words leave her and she knows the kind of pain that covers Zelena's face, despite how hard the witch tries to school it. She's never had anything, Emma. Don't take this away from her. "You can't replace your hate with a child. You have to change on your own."
"And you know so much about changing. About being replaced for things." Zelena's eyes burn. "Henry's father replaced you for those watches, Snow and Charming replaced you for the good of their kingdom. Who will be next, dear Emma? What's your pirate going to give you up for, then?"
They're both hurt, she knows, and that this is all just coming from a place within them that is an open casket most days.
"As much as you'd like to believe you understand me, Zelena, you don't know shit." She's standing now, hands on the bars. Zelena's smirking and Emma wants to hit her, like she hit Regina three years ago outside her father's tomb. "I don't care if we were both abandoned, both lost little girls with no one to love them, but you are nothing like me. Think about why you turned green the second time, Zelena, think about how you can't let go of all of these things inside you."
"We've more in common than you want to admit, Emma." Zelena's eyes narrow. "I wonder what colour you'd turn."
That weekend Henry avoids her, but the following week he starts coming again.
He never fails to bring her a coffee during his afternoons at the station, and the teen still sets a tea down for his aunt. He gives her more books, sometimes he puts a movie on the small tv to let her watch while he does homework. Despite herself, Emma knows Zelena enjoyed The Wizard of Oz, as the woman hums tunes while she writes. Emma thinks that if she has to hear Somewhere Over the Rainbow one more time she'll strangle the woman.
Her magic never comes back and she starts to feel some sympathy for Zelena, who stares intently at objects across her cell, the time between her manual retrievals and the wistful hope the object will move growing shorter. Emma removes the cuff (the witch doesn't need a physical reminder of how she really is no longer a witch). Killian still has faith that she'll get it back someday, but for now his kiss is all the magic she needs.
"Gross, ma." Henry would say.
Emma gives up trying to keep Henry away from his aunt and the manor settles into a quiet calm once more. Henry spends less time watching Netflix with her, opting to bake with Regina, and though Emma misses him dearly sometimes, she's glad to see what he does to Regina. He softens her, even if it's simply turnovers (they've decided to ignore his history with that particular pastry).
Killian knows the things she's said to her son will take time to be erased, but he still rubs his thumb between her shoulder blades each night on the couch Henry doesn't spend with her. When she cries one night, he holds her, his wooden hand against her waist while the working one cradles her head. He asks her to marry him and she says not yet instead of no. Later that evening after two bottles of wine she tells him her whole story (foster care, running away, Neal, jail, Henry's birth, the eleven years after that, everything) and he tells her that the difference between her and Milah. To him, for Emma, Killian was not an escape route. He was her end of the rode. (She says yes the morning after).
Zelena stops asking her personal questions.
Instead, the woman (she's not a witch in Emma's mind anymore) tells Emma about her mother and the father who wrecked the both of them. Emma buys her more notebooks. She doesn't end up using all of them, though, by the time she's let out.
They send her back to the Enchanted Forest, not to Oz, where the weight of the world awaits her. Zelena settles herself in a small cottage, Aurora and Phillip (begrudgingly) checking up on her each month (the baby stays at the palace). Emma gets their messages through a mirror and each one leaves her with a wistful smile. Henry misses her, she knows. He sends her a Christmas present (she still doesn't really understand the mundane holiday, but he sends them anyway) and when he finally gets a job buys her a birthday present (Emma doesn't know how he found her birthday out) each year as well.
Emma's only visited Zelena once, but each human knickknack and throw blanket is placed around her home caringly. The woman is still bitter, but the boy has softened her heart.
The Saviour accepts her weird sister (Regina uses the term because her and Emma still live in the same house and Henry connects them both so Zelena is family now, apparently) and lets go of her at the same time.
When Emma is pregnant again she finds a small note next to her mirror in a script she's never seen, but she know's who it's from. The green ink gives it away, anyhow.
I promise I won't try to kill this one.
Killian doesn't think it's funny but Emma just smirks at her sister's spunk. (She even lets Zelena hold the baby later, but she has her hand on her gun the whole time).
A year later Emma finds a Christmas present for her little one under the tree, the same green ink on the tag. She knows the baby blanket is handmade (she can smell spices in the yarn) and the baby's name is stitched into the side of it, like Emma's had all those years ago.
Emma wonders when Zelena became the impromptu godmother to her child, and then she brushes it off to be as confusing as the rest of her life.
She doesn't find she minds, anyway.
