Emma Swan had been born into an impossible world, with an impossible life. Yet, there she sat at a booth in Granny's diner, clutching a cup of strong, black coffee. The blackest and strongest coffee that she could get at that moment in time. She gazed absentmindedly out the window and watched as black clouds rolled in overhead, dimming everything and sending the last few pedestrians scurrying into the diner or the surrounding shops and homes.
She could hear the happy chatter of the other people in the diner, and as much as she wanted to momentarily forget her impossible life and pretend she was just another patron in the diner who was completely content with her life, she remained with her gaze fixed on the black clouds that had begun to dump their loads. Water dropletts coated the glass, obscuring her vision and instead, sending her gaze down into the cup in her hands. Almost empty. She gulped down the last sip, wincing at the bitter aftertaste.
"Everything okay?" A gorgeous girl with long, deep brown hair looked at her questioningly, a coffee pot in her hand. She took the cup on the table and filled it to the top, and then stood waiting for a response.
Emma kept her eyes trained on the cup and the slow-twirling whisps of steam rising from it. Her world had been turned upside down in the span of a few hours, but truthfully, it seemed like since she moved to Storybrooke her world was constantly jolting and flipping itself around as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.
But right then and there, she didn't want to reveal to anyone that her newest discovery had started shredding apart her entire being in a matter of hours.
"I'm fine Ruby. Thanks."
Ruby pursed her lips, not satsfied with the answer, but turned and walked on to the next booth without saying anything more.
From behind her, Emma heard the bells above the door jingle as it opened, but did not turn back to see who it was. She only looked up from her cup when a very soaked Mary Margaret slid into the seat across from her, her wet clothes making an unpleasant sqeaking noise as she slid against the vinyl. Her hair was drenched and stinking out at odd angles to her face. She removed her coat and scarf and picked up a menu from the far end of the booth. Not looking at Emma, she flipped through pages and said "You look distracted."
Picking up her cup, Emma took a quick swallow, reveling in the burning sensation in her throat.
"And you" she said to Mary Margaret,"look like a drowned cat."
Mary Margaret's mouth dropped open for a few seconds before she snapped it shut and raised an eyebrow. Emma finally looked up at her and said "Oh I'm sorry, I'm just-"
"Annoyed? Frustrated?" Mary Margaret supplied. "Heartbroken?"
"I was going to say out of it, but sure. Let's go with annoyed and frustrated."
Mary Margaret looked at her sypathetically. "You want to talk about it?"
"Oh no. No. I definitely do not want to talk about this" said Emma. She closed her eyes. "In fact, I never want to be reminded of this ever again."
Mary Margaret waited a few moments before saying "You can't escape this though. Your past has caught up to. It's not going to go away."
Emma's eyes fluttered open in defeat. "I know" she whispered. "But I just want to go on a little longer without having to accept it."
They remained quiet for a few minutes, in which time Emma had finished her fourth cup of coffee since she had walked in over an hour earlier with the strong urge to cry and just take off.
But she was a big girl. She could deal with it, the same as she could deal with all the hardships she had ever encountered in her life.
"How's Gold doing?" she asked.
"He's fine. Unconscious but fine. Mother Superior was able to give him something. He should be waking up by tomorrow. David and LeRoy are watching him at the shop."
Emma nodded. She hesitated before asking the question that was on her mind...and the followup question that she couldn't even form into coherent words. "And uh...Henry?"
Mary Margaret understood Emma's reluctance and her underlying question. "He's good. He's at home...with Neil."
And there it was. That one word would be responsible for Ema's undoing. Already she could feel her blood begin to boil and her mind begin to float away as she tried desperately to cling to the conversation happening in real life and not pay any attention to the memories beginning to play in the background. Still shots of her life began to flash in her brain; a yellow car, motel rooms, a dream catcher, kisses in the dark, laughter, feelings of love, and a sense of belonging. Happiness like flames that burned bright and warmed even the coldest winter night and brought beauty and colour and life. And then, all of a sudden, an empty parking garage, the back of a police car. Heartbreak and cold hard reality fell like buckets of ice water on those flames. The colours faded, blending into the hrd grey of the prison bars and the blackness of the sky through small windows. That small, four lettered word had once raised up high, higher than she could ever hope to go, and then slammed her down hard on the concrete again and again until she lay broken and bleeding in bits.
Mary Margaret sat across from Emma, mistaking her inner turmoil for something else.
"I'm sure everything is alright with Henry. He could never hate you."
Which just reminded Emma how royally fucked up this situation had turned on her. As if seeing Neil wasn't bad enough, Henry and Neil were both mad, and rightfully so, that they had been lied to, and in Neil's case, never even told he had a son. But Henry didn't see, couldn't see the pain she had been put through because of Neil. Giving Henry up had been both for his sake and hers; she was young and was in no way equipped to care for a child, and she wouldn't have to be reminded day in and day out of the man she had given herself to completely, that had shattered her and left her behind.
"You're sure you don't want to talk about it?" asked Mary Margaret.
She could. She could tell her everything, every painful little detail. But now wasn't the right time. She shook her head. "Not right now. I'd need something a lot stronger than coffee to get me through that story."
"I understand." Mary Margaret sighed. "Listen, David and I are going to check in at the inn tonight. Give you some space. You can figure out what you want to do with yourself tonight." She started sliding out of the booth, grabbing her coat and scarf and putting them on once she had stood up. "Hey" she said, causing Emma to look up at her. "It's going to be okay. You have to have faith that it will work itself out."
"Okay" Emma said halfheartedly. She made no move, instead remaining exactly where she was, looking out the window. Outside it was black, with rain falling in heavy sheets. Reflecting how she felt inside.