(This takes place immediately after the episode "Devil's Due.")
As she picked and stumbled her way through the eerie, desolate cemetery of the Underworld—trying hard, and failing, at not thinking of the apt symbolism for what her life had become—Emma Swan wasn't sure what she was seeking. She'd told her parents and the others that after the shock of seeing her own name on a gravestone, as well as her mother's and Regina's, and the subsequent despair once the meaning of this sank in, that she needed time to herself to "deal with all this." Which was true enough. But even though learning the three of them were now trapped down here, and that they still had no means of restoring Hook to life, was plenty of grounds for being out of sorts, somehow there was…something else weighing down her shoulders and dragging her steps.
It wasn't until she came upon a squat, nebulous shadow of a mausoleum (and what did that mean, in the crazy rules of this disturbing afterlife? Someone who had unfinished business but was content to stay here forever?) that she began to get an inkling what it was. Because on the other side of the stone building, she found the graveyard backed up against a gloomy, shadow-cloaked forest of whispering pines and other evergreens…and right at the edge of the tree line was a single, lonely grave.
Her breath caught; everything down here had a meaning, decreed by the twisted god of death whose malignant will shaped and controlled the place. The fact she'd been drawn here without knowing it had to mean it was someone close to her. The fact it was an isolated plot suggested whoever was buried here had been a solitary person in life.
But who? Neal had already appeared to her to assure her he had moved on (and in any event when he'd died he'd hardly been alone, having his father, Henry, and even Belle and Hook as dear loved ones close to him, along with her). Plus she could see already that the stone was upright, not flat. Ingrid had found her happy ending in death. Anyone else she knew had died away from Storybrooke, and were not tied to the Enchanted Forest in any event.
Except one, of course. The one she didn't want to think about. The one she had refused to think about for years, as everything associated with him was too painful, too overwhelming, too confusing—from a part of her life that seemed as distant and walled off as her entire existence in the foster system and the world beyond. A time when she had been more in denial than ever before, when a Dark Curse still hung over a quaint Maine hamlet far bigger than it appeared on the outside, and over her future. A time when her refusal to believe might well have been just as deadly in the end as any poison or magic spell.
The blonde came to a stop in front of the headstone, which was a darker gray than most of the other memorials to be found here. Dreading what she would see, but also knowing it deep down to her bones, she leaned against a crape myrtle that cast its sorrowful shadow—like withered arms sadly drawing someone close for an embrace—over the grave…and stared at the name carved in the marble.
GRAHAM HUMBERT.
The words swam before her eyes as tears formed in an instant, yet she also couldn't hold back the sharp inhalation of breath. She'd never known his full name—she recalled, vaguely, seeing it on several of the awards and commendations that had been among his effects, after his…after…but understandably she'd been more focused at the time on worries about what ulterior motive Gold had for showing them to her, how to make Regina pay for what had happened, and how to protect Henry from her. So it wasn't surprising she'd put it out of her mind and eventually forgotten it until now.
But just as her travels to Camelot had dredged up certain long-ago memories of sneaking into a theater to see The Sword and the Stone, seeing this name reminded her, suddenly, of a bit of trivia related to the first animated feature Walt Disney had created. Humbert. Though never revealed onscreen, the Huntsman in that had been named Humbert.
Damnit, Regina. You really loved being on-the-nose, taunting everyone with their cursed personas when you created them, didn't you?
She shoved thoughts of the mayor aside; she didn't want them intruding on what she was feeling now, for while obviously the Evil Queen was the reason Storybrooke's first sheriff had a grave down here, she'd put that behind her long ago. And it was more important for her to think about the other reason for its existence, for why she'd been drawn to it after learning she had been imprisoned in the Underworld herself. Because if there was an upright stone here, it meant he had unfinished business. And the only thing she could think of to explain that…unless she was being selfish…was herself.
"I'm sorry, Graham," she whispered, still fighting back her tears. "I'm so, so sorry."
She wanted to say more, needed to say more, especially because of her lifelong tendency to bottle things up, seal them away behind her walls. She needed to tell him…tell herself…how she truly felt about him, past and present. She needed to explain why she'd seemingly forgotten about him, beyond the constant dangers and villains and insane, out-of-control adventures she'd been having since breaking the first curse. That she'd been so afraid of love, of reaching out, of caring for anyone that even if he hadn't died, she didn't think she could have started any sort of relationship with him, let alone that kind.
That finding out Neal was alive, and why he had left her, had been a convenient if plausible excuse for why she had driven memories of Graham away, sublimated her feelings into her determination to protect Storybrooke and her family—especially Henry—from all the threats that had assailed them. Who knew having a villain or monster of the week to deal with could be so useful in ignoring trauma? Maybe that was why Archie didn't have nearly as many patients as you'd think…though it did present its own difficulties…
Emma shook her head. There she went, distracting herself again. But what she realized, as she refocused on the stone in front of her and what it stood for, was that even if she could find the words and bring herself to say them…she didn't need to. Because what she'd said had already been enough. Simply apologizing—not for anything specific, but for everything, for how it all had ended and everything Graham had been through—said it all, really. Not that it really made her feel any better, not yet. It did make her feel a warmth, though, as if his arms were around her even now, holding her close, as he breathed in her ear and told her it was all right, that however much she insisted on the contrary there was nothing to forgive.
That warmth shattered into a cold, brittle shock when she heard a voice behind her. That voice, one she knew too well and still heard in her dreams, warm and rich and stirring, with an accent that, in hindsight, made her realize just how much he'd played into her eventually falling for Killian.
"I know you are, Emma."
Turning her head slowly, she spied him standing only a short distance behind her, in the shadows of the mausoleum, nearly blending in thanks to the dark hues of his pants and shirt (though of course he didn't wear his jacket…that still hung in its place of honor back at the sheriff's station, and always would). He looked exactly as she remembered him that last day…that miserable day of confusion, anguish, hope, fury, understanding shared and chances lost. Gone was the harried and manic look he'd worn for most of it, the pain and loneliness. Instead he only smiled at her…wistfully, lopsidedly…as he continued to speak.
"I wish you hadn't come here…put yourself in danger yet again, though I know that's what you do. But I'm glad to see you all the same. And I'm sorry, too…that we didn't have more time, that we never got to know each other as who we really were."
That did it. That was enough to break through the paralysis…make her rush to his side, throw herself into his arms, and hug him more fiercely than she thought possible.
Somehow, even though she knew the dead were as solid and physical down here as the living, as everyone from Regina's father to Hook himself had attested (hell, Neal had been able to kiss her forehead in her dream!), it still shocked her to feel him against her. Feel his warmth, his stability, his strength. It made her start to cry all over again, to bury her face in his chest and inhale the rich, intense musk that had always been distinctly his and his alone, even under his cologne, and dig her fingernails into his back as she clung to him.
"Well." The word was a bit muffled by her hair, but she could still hear the amusement in it, the fondness. "If I'd known that's all it took to have you falling into my arms, I'd have tried dying sooner."
"Shut up," she choked out. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Even she couldn't tell if she was laughing or lashing out at him; what he'd said was darkly funny, but hit far too close to home, too, in a number of ways.
"Er…sorry. Jokes down here tend to get a bit, ah, gallows after a while." He shrugged apologetically, but the look on that handsome face, in those soulful blue eyes, made it so she couldn't stay mad at him even if she'd wanted to.
She ran her hands up his shoulders, along his neck and cheeks, tracing through his scruffy beard, and finally working through his brown, tangled curls, before she leaned against him once more and pressed her mouth to the side of his neck. "Don't worry, I get it." She chuckled weakly. "I…I still can't believe it. I knew you might be down here, though I tried not to think about it. I…" She broke off, as well she might; even if she wasn't sure what had lain between them, on either side, it was incredibly awkward seeing him again when her reason for coming to the Underworld had been to rescue Hook, an entirely different man in her life.
Graham shushed her gently. "It's all right, Emma. I know. I know." He shook his head and smiled at her, an expression that mingled devotion and pride. "You've moved on, as you should have. It's what the living have to do, if they're going to, you know, have a life. And if we couldn't be together…in any sense…then I would want nothing more than for you to be happy."
Emma furrowed her brow. "Since when did you get so wise, huh?" It was meant as a joke, but she found there was genuine puzzlement behind it.
"Ah well, what can I say. Being dead does have its advantages. Enlightenment, perspective, that whole sort of thing." He shrugged, seeming just as bemused as she was.
"So…so you mean…you're not mad at me?" She couldn't believe how tremulous she sounded, like a little girl again. Even after all she'd been through these past few years, seeing him again…having to think about the first loss she'd suffered in some time that had come close to breaking her, the first time she considered herself in retrospect to have failed as a hero…well, it was shocking how easily it made everything come crashing down on her again.
He took her head in his hands, gazed deeply into her eyes, and shook his head again as he spoke fiercely, insistently. "No. No, of course not. How could you ever think that? Emma, not only did you help me feel again for the first time in decades…or even longer…you gave me back my life again. You reminded me what it was like, before I fell under the Queen's thrall, what it was like to know other humans could care, be decent, and love. And you helped me remember who I was."
At her startled look, he smiled again, in relief and a strange joy. "Your kiss, Emma. I didn't get the chance to tell you, because…" He broke off, then shook himself and pressed his forehead to hers. "It brought back everything. My memories, my life in the Enchanted Forest, my identity, everything. That's what I was thanking you for. Even though I died, I died as myself…which means you did save me, Emma. Not the way you intended, or wanted, but you did."
Needless to say, that revelation was a lot to process. Staring at him, eyes wide and bulging, Emma didn't know what to say, what to focus on. In the end she chose to latch onto something concrete, something that—as usual—she could call another failure. "You mean if I'd let you talk…or if I'd helped you find your heart, so Regina couldn't…then you would have—then I might have—" To think she could have saved his life…and just as importantly, that if she had, she'd have had proof of the curse and that Henry was telling the truth that much sooner…
"Don't think about what might have been," he urged her. His face was so earnest, his voice so intense, as much as it had been the day he died. "We can't know how else the story could have played out. Maybe it was destiny, maybe it had to happen that way—"
"Screw destiny!" she cut him off, with extreme feeling.
"—or maybe," he emphasized firmly, "it wouldn't have made any difference in the end. Tell me truly, do you really think, if I'd suddenly started ranting to you about being the Huntsman, running with wolves, sparing the life of Snow White and bringing back an animal heart to fool the Evil Queen, only for her to punish me by taking my heart in return…would you have believed me? Wouldn't you have seen me as just a crazed lunatic, lost to some fever, who needed to be locked up for his own good? I would have had nothing to prove my story, you know."
She realized, however badly she didn't want to admit it, that he was right. She never would have believed, not then. It had taken Henry falling into a coma no medical science could explain to convince her in the end; with as skeptical as she'd been, her own mind creating such a wall of refusal that she couldn't see August's wooden leg when he pleaded with her to save them all, she likely wouldn't have seen Graham's heart for what it truly was, either.
And if he hadn't died…if he'd remembered who he was, and begun opposing Regina, who knew what might have happened then? He could still have died later in some other way. Or she or Henry could have been caught in the crossfire instead. The future could not be seen, or second-guessed. At least not by her.
After some time had passed, when he realized from the look on her face that she understood—even with a despairing heart—Graham nodded, squeezed her close again. "You did what you thought was right. What matters is what came of it, where you went from there. Because of what happened to me, you were set even more squarely against Regina, determined to make sure nothing like that happened to Mary Marg—to Snow White, or Henry. Because I had made you my deputy, my death opened the way to you becoming sheriff yourself. A place in Storybrooke…a way to make connections, to be ready and willing to defend everyone in town from whatever threatened them. A position of power against Regina. All of that was necessary for what came next. I have to believe that. It wasn't my intent, but if I was going to die, I would want it to be a sacrifice for the greater good. And I think it was."
She wanted to rail against him—if not for falling into such cliché, storybook ideals and ends-justify-the-means thinking, then because he was essentially asking her to say it was not only all right, but a good thing that he'd died. But she couldn't, not when she looked into those eyes. Not when she saw how much this mattered to him. And not when she realized that trying to convince him otherwise, when he was obviously at peace with his fate, would be actively working against what she wanted, for him to move on to a better place.
That reminded her, though. "But if that's all true…and maybe you're right, maybe it is…then why are you still here?" The thought he might have lingered simply for her, whether to tell her all this or simply to see her once more, nearly broke her heart all over again.
Graham sighed; despite the weird and disturbing way he looked in the constant vermilion light of this godforsaken place (like everything and everyone else here), with his eyes cast in dark shadows the color of clotted blood, he still seemed as kind, loyal, and hopeful as could be. "Because, Emma, I didn't get to say good-bye. To you, and to a lot of other people. So while I didn't want you to come…because you are all in very great danger here…now that you are here, I need you to help me. Help me say what I need to say, do what I need to do, so I can rest."
The blonde had been about to retort that she knew very well just how dangerous things were here—even aside from that name on her tombstone locking her in Hell, they'd already faced Cerberus, and there was Cruella, Hades, and more to consider—but his final words veered her on a different course. "You really have to ask that? Of course I'll help you! Even if I was still the woman you knew before, I would have…and now…"
He looked away, a deep pain appearing on his rugged features, and something chilled her heart that had nothing to do with the shadows of the nearby woods, or how they shifted and writhed in weird, unnerving manners over the former sheriff's face. "I hope you still mean that when you hear me out. Because it isn't just you, or Snow White and her prince, or even Henry. I need to resolve things with her."
Emma's mind reeled; for several long moments she wasn't sure what she felt—whether his words indicated he wanted to forgive Regina, tear her a new one even worse than he had outside of her vault that night, or do something far more permanent…and which of these possibilities she actually wanted, which one made her angriest and which one she longed for deep in her heart. It had been so long, it was water under the bridge now…but did that make it all the more reason to have it out? And did that mean this should be a cruel bit of karma too long in coming, or a reconciliation equally delayed past its time?
Whatever the answers, they wouldn't be found here. Taking a deep breath, she ran her hand over his cheek again, then squeezed his own before turning back toward the way the others had gone, back toward this perverse mockery of Storybrooke the god of the dead had ensnared them all in.
"All right. Let's go see her Majesty, then."
When the two of them entered the Blind Witch's Diner, Emma wasn't quite sure what to expect…and she still wasn't sure how she felt. On the one hand, as much as seeing Graham again and hearing him speak of how he died had resurrected old feelings of fury, hatred, and vengeance toward Regina, the truth was she had, if not forgiven her, at least let it go long before. It helped that as soon as she'd realized magic, the curse, and everything Henry had told her about his storybook was real, she had immediately understood what else was real—namely, Graham's ravings about having no heart, Henry's explanation for how this could be, and the former sheriff's strange behaviors which could easily be explained by him literally being under someone else's control.
If all of this were true, then the "aneurysm/heart attack" explanation Dr. Whale had given her was immediately exposed for the lie (or ass-covering) it was…and there was only one explanation for his death, one person to blame. That, as much as what had happened to Henry, was why she had launched into Regina in the hospital storage room.
Yet on the other hand…that very attack, as well as the fight against Maleficent not long after, had allowed her to channel her anger, to release such murderous and ruthless thoughts so they no longer poisoned her heart and built up unhealthily inside her. And after that…well, so many things the mayor had said and done had changed Emma's outlook on her considerably. Whether her willingness to sacrifice her life to stop the failsafe, everything she'd done to save Henry from Pan, her giving Emma and Henry memories of a life together after truly undoing the curse, working to save what they thought was Marian's life, or all she had done in Camelot, the fact was Regina did not seem to be that woman anymore.
To hold what she had done against her now seemed unfair; she had committed far worse atrocities in the Enchanted Forest, and in the end Snow White had still forgiven her. While this was something far more direct and personal…Regina had still proven herself time and again since then.
And after witnessing what Cora had done to her first love, Daniel, in the dreamcatcher, Emma not only had had her sympathy aroused even more deeply, she had come to understand something. In a twisted but oddly understandable way, what Cora had done had not only made it impossible for Regina to love, or to express it properly…she had provided her with the example of what to do when someone was threatening to take away her only means of power and security. Whatever Regina had felt for Graham, it was clearly the only thing (aside from her love for Henry) that had kept her even nominally stable and content.
So when Emma had come along, upsetting the status quo and seemingly turning Graham against her as well as Henry, it made a perverse sense that she would lash out by destroying her lover, exactly as had been done to her all those years ago. Classic 'if I can't have you' villainy.
What this meant was that the woman who had become the Evil Queen was not to be hated, but pitied. None of this changed, however, the fact that Regina had never once admitted what she'd done to Graham, let alone apologized for it or expressed remorse over it. So as soon as she laid eyes on the woman again now, and remembered what she had done, Emma couldn't help bristling and reaching for a nonexistent gun in its holster.
Yet all of this fled her mind when she also saw the look on Regina's face as they walked in the diner door. Despite the fact she herself had been the one to make note of how many souls were down here who would hold grudges against them—and her especially—the staggering shock on her face displayed to anyone who cared to look how much she had not expected this particular reunion…and how much it deeply upset her. She didn't look angry, resentful, sardonic, contemptuous, or anything else Emma might have guessed ahead of time. In fact her face went stark white…and the coffee cup she was lifting to her mouth actually slipped out of her hand to shatter on the checkerboard linoleum floor.
"You'll have to pay for that, you know," the gingerbread witch observed lightly from behind the counter. "Two vials of breath…" She broke off as her face turned toward Graham—thanks to being blind, her sense of smell was acute, and her nostrils flared as she took in his musky, somewhat earthy scent—and then she smiled in a way Emma didn't like at all. "Never mind…it's on the house. He can stay as long as he likes."
Ignoring her, Emma focused on Regina, who hadn't moved an inch from her chair. It was crystal clear from her expression, her entire demeanor—it was regret she saw there, sorrow, even a touch of fear. Certainly no indication she planned to launch into any sort of self-righteous defense or even a snarky comeback. What do you know.
Finally finding her voice, Regina rested her hands on the table before her, as if to keep them from shaking. "Graham…I…I never thought…though I really should have…" She'd never seen the mayor so at a loss for words.
"Hello, Regina." The soft lilt of his accent curled around her name, but Emma couldn't begin to fathom what emotion lay behind it.
For a moment, something did blaze in those dark eyes as they fixed on Emma. "Why am I not surprised you were the one to bring him here? I suppose I should be grateful you aren't traipsing all of my past victims in front of me to get their pound of flesh." The sarcasm in her tone was greatly muted, though, and her voice was uneven…as if, had Emma intended or done any such thing, she actually would have welcomed it, or at least accepted it.
"It wasn't my idea, Regina," Emma replied, surprised her own voice sounded steadier. "For some reason, he's the one who wanted to talk to you."
The mayor seemed not to know what to make of that, but after a few flabbergasted moments she flicked her eyes between them before saying, "Then that makes you, what, his chaperone? Making certain I don't go on the warpath again? In case you'd forgotten, Miss Swan, the dead can't be harmed by the living, so I couldn't hurt him even if I wanted to." She paused. "Which I don't."
Emma had known this, or at least assumed it, but it was good to get confirmation. Frowning, she crossed over to the other woman's table, dragged over a chair from a neighboring empty table, and sat down with her arms crossed. Fixing her gaze deliberately on Regina, she remarked, "Actually, believe it or not, I might just be your chaperone. You don't have magic down here, and I really have no idea what Graham plans to do."
They were in a public place, of course, or what passed for one in the Underworld, but if the former sheriff planned to get a bit of revenge she doubted that would stop him—or that the souls of the departed would care. The Blind Witch'll probably sell tickets, or something.
Regina blinked anew, and for once seemed startled and even touched, rather than resentful as she'd expected. "You would actually do that for me? After everything I've done?"
"I didn't say I was forgiving you," the blonde said firmly. "But I do think everyone deserves the chance to…clear the air a bit, before we figure out where we go from here. Besides, Graham needs this before he can move on, and I think the one thing we can agree on when it comes to him is that he deserves that much."
She was looking right at the other woman's eyes when she said this last, and the pain and regret she saw there was both easily observed…and genuine. "Yes. Of course." Clasping her hands nervously on the tabletop, she turned and looked at Graham, who had stayed hovering in the diner doorway until some détente had been achieved. "Then by all means…please, sit down."
For several more long moments, the former sheriff of Storybrooke stayed where he was; then with a slow but steady stride he walked over and seated himself in another chair, hands clasped in his lap. Eyes fixed on the woman who had killed him, he nodded once, then said, "You're looking well, Regina."
Emma turned and stared at Graham incredulously. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Regina looked much the same. "Seriously? You expect me to believe that after all this time, you just want to make small talk? Compliment me on how good my makeup looks in Bizarro Storybrooke lighting?" Visibly restraining herself, the mayor took a long, slow breath, then skewered him with her best penetrating glare. "Besides, I hardly think you mean that. So why don't you tell me what you came here to say, so we can get this over with?"
Even as the blonde was silently thanking Regina for being her typical blunt self—since she couldn't understand why he was being so polite and non-combative—Graham chuckled softly and shook his head a bit. "True enough, I suppose. But what good would insulting you do? I've had more than time enough to come to terms with what you did to me…everything you did to me."
He paused, regarding the other woman with a firm and meaningful look, but even as it dawned on Emma with indignation and fury what he was referring to—that even aside from the Dark Curse, Regina possessing his heart meant everything he had done with and for her had been against his will—he added, "Besides…I didn't come here to fight with you. I came here to thank you."
Silence descended over the diner, other than the murmured sounds of other souls conversing in soft undertones. Emma stared in disbelief at Graham, wondering if his time down here had after all damaged him in some way, addled his mind. But before she could even splutter any words to chastise him, Regina got there first—and for a wonder, her voice was actually thick and choked with emotion; when she looked at her, she even saw tears gleaming in her eyes.
"All right. I know I deserve this. But what's the point? Why be so cruel now, when nothing can change the past? I can't bring you back…no matter how much I wish I could. Do you want an apology, is that it?" She paused, dropped her gaze to the table, and let out a long, low sigh. "I do regret what I did to you. It was petty, vindictive…and in the end it didn't just hurt you and Emma, it hurt me, too. I tried to fill the hole in my heart, even though that was impossible…and I did it with something shallow and meaningless. But it was still something, the only thing I had…and I threw it away out of revenge, because I couldn't have you. I…I'm sorry."
Even knowing how much the woman had changed, how she made amends with so many she had harmed—but most especially Snow White—Emma found herself shaking her head, stunned to hear such words from Regina. Yes, she had proven capable of wielding light magic, and given her life to protect Henry in Isaac's alternate world, but this was also the woman who, in order to break free of Pan's tree, had honestly stated she regretted nothing since it had given her her son. To come from that, to this… And she could see it in her face, hear it in her voice. She was telling the truth.
Graham could too, she could tell by how stunned and wondering he looked. But after shifting uncomfortably in his chair and clearing his throat a few times, he said, "No, Regina. I mean…it's good to hear that, and to know it's genuine. But that isn't what I came here for, not exactly anyway. I do want to thank you. Obviously not for taking my heart, or killing me, but for something else. For bringing me into your life at all."
An uncomfortable spasm crossed Regina's face. "What? How can you say that? After all I did to you, made you do…"
"Believe me, Regina, as much as I hated every moment of that back in the Enchanted Forest…it was a different matter in Storybrooke, where I didn't have my memories and didn't need to be compelled. And anyway…" Those curly locks hung forward as he bowed his head to the tabletop. "I'm quite sure you remember what I told you when we first met…how I viewed other humans. And what you said to me then. As awful as the things you did to me were, they weren't any worse than some of the things I saw and heard other men do, to animals and to each other. I hated the loss of my freedom, but beyond that, being your puppet wasn't terrible to me, the way it was to your other victims."
Emma blinked several times, even as part of her shied back; as cynical and distrustful as she had become thanks to her life as an orphan, even she didn't think all of humanity was intrinsically bad or destructive. The little she'd allowed herself to read about the Huntsman from Henry's storybook, once she'd met Jefferson and started believing, just a tiny bit, explained it to some degree—that he'd been raised by and among wolves, rather like Mowgli from "The Jungle Book", so he saw the animal kingdom as far purer and more honorable.
But it had been impossible for her to connect that with Graham in her mind, as other than his bond with that mysterious wolf, he'd never seemed to be anything but concerned and caring for the people of Storybrooke…and especially herself. She hadn't wanted to believe, on top of all the other reasons not to, that the curse could have been responsible for that change too, that none of what she'd seen and felt from him was real. And after all, when he'd told her her kiss had helped him remember, he hadn't seemed any different then…
While she was still dealing with the fact that a man she'd once loved and still cared deeply about had this other side to him—that even if he had changed to see other people differently, it was still an aspect of him she couldn't deny was rather off-putting—he went on, almost as if he'd read her mind. "The reason I want to thank you, Regina, is that despite all of that, it was being in your life…especially after you cast your curse and brought me to Storybrooke…that changed me for the better.
"If it hadn't been for you, I never would have met Snow White, or Henry, or Emma. I never would have learned that there could be such things as loyalty, love, kindness, or forgiveness, and in more than just my animal kin. I never would have found others to protect and believe in, ones I was willing to sacrifice and die for. I wouldn't have been able to see both sides of my nature, of people, and found a way to balance them. It wasn't your intention, but you made that happen all the same."
He reached over and rested his hand on the mayor's, making her flinch, and seeing the earnestness in his gaze nearly overwhelmed Emma all over again. "So thank you, Regina. Thank you for bringing me out of that darkness I didn't even know I was dwelling in, and making me a better man. I may not have gotten to live very long that way, with all my memories or emotions, but it was better than I would have had in the forest, and it was still a gift. And it led me to people very dear to me, I never otherwise would have met." His hand squeezed hers, then released…and he sat back in his chair with a shuddering sigh, running his fingers shakily through his hair.
For a long time, all of them stared at each other—or more accurately, Regina stared at Graham while Emma stared at both of them, with none of them seeming sure what to say or do next. Where once the mention of Snow White would have caused those fires of sullen hatred to flare in the mayor's eyes, all the blonde saw there now was anguish, disbelief, and yes even sympathy, and the mentions of Henry and Emma only seemed to deepen her sense of sorrow and concern.
On the Savior's part, she found herself wondering how Graham had come to such wisdom and forgiveness, considering the last conversation he'd had with Regina when alive had been a confrontation calling her out. But then he'd had quite a long time down here to think and reconsider, and the distance from both his death and severing ties with her surely contributed as well. She still wasn't certain how to feel about all this, about him, about her own acceptance of and friendship toward Regina vying with this old, bitter resentment and unresolved issues—or that she who had once been an enemy to them both had ironically been responsible for him changing into a better man.
But in the end, it was Graham's unfinished business which mattered here, not hers. And if getting all this off his chest…and hearing and seeing the woman who had once been the Evil Queen apologizing and honoring his forgiveness…was what he needed, then she would not stand in his way for anything.
And it looked like Regina needed it, too.
Letting out a shuddering breath, the brunette reached out again to grip Graham's hand, and after flicking her gaze briefly aside to Emma—a welcome gratitude in her eyes—she nodded and wiped away the tears that had welled up. "Well, when you put it that way…I never saw it like that before, but this wouldn't be the first time I'm discovering I have no idea how someone else sees the world. You're welcome, then."
A soft, rueful chuckle escaped her lips, and at last she turned her frank eyes directly upon Emma. "Funny how things work out, isn't it, Miss Swan? That for the first time since we came down here, something is going right…and it's all to do with old history and wrongs that had stayed buried and forgotten until now."
Emma sighed too, relieved in spite of herself, and also glad. Behind the counter, she could see the Blind Witch—who had been aiming her eerie eyes in their direction all this time, surely eager to witness a furious and vicious altercation—was turning away again, disgusted; but she was no threat now. Instead the blonde smiled at the first real friend she'd made in Storybrooke other than her mother. "No, I don't think it's funny at all, Madam Mayor. I think it only makes sense. Who else would be able to make this happen than someone who's better than both of us put together?"
Graham actually blushed at that, staring bashfully at the tabletop, but Regina smiled. "That's something else we can agree on."
They were still sitting there talking some time later—how much later, Emma didn't know, with the way time worked down here—but in a much more relaxed and open attitude…discussing everything which had occurred since Graham's death, or at least as much as the two women felt comfortable talking about. (They'd glossed over things like the failsafe trigger, since Regina hadn't wanted to bring up Greg/Owen whose father she had forced Graham to kill; how close the town had come to being destroyed several times; and as much as Emma could get away with not revealing about her time as the Dark One. And they hadn't had to even mention Cora's death as he'd already been aware of her spirit as 'Underbrooke''s mayor. But they'd at least made it clear that threats like Pan, the Wicked Witch, the Snow Queen, and the Queens of Darkness had been dealt with one way or another; that the town had been taken away and brought back again; and that Henry had proven heroic in countless ways, but especially as the new Author.)
Emma had just been telling the former sheriff about their time in Camelot, and how it led to just why they were down here in the afterlife, when the others had finally walked in the diner door. And while it was a toss-up as to who seemed most stunned, David or Henry, it was of course Snow White who came rushing over almost instantly, tears of happiness running down her cheeks and joy shining in her eyes as she took Graham in her arms and hugged him tightly.
Watching this, Emma could only appreciate anew just how incredible it was, seeing fairy tale characters she had always thought to be fictional as real people…and seeing how strong and powerful their bonds were. The man she'd befriended, and come close to falling for, was actually the Huntsman and had saved Snow White—her mother's—life, without which she herself wouldn't even exist. And it turned out, as he gave Graham a firm, back-slapping hug of his own and a hearty handshake, that Charming had owed his life to the man as well. For her father soon revealed that it had been Graham, dressed as one of Regina's Black Knights, who had enabled the prince to escape the Evil Queen's castle before he could be executed, which in turn had allowed him to find Snow White and break the Sleeping Curse.
Robin Hood, of course, had never even met the woodsman seeing as he'd confined himself to Sherwood Forest and avoided Regina and her lackeys as much as possible, while Hook had heard of the Huntsman but never encountered him; so both men had merely shook hands and thanked Graham for his part in protecting Storybrooke and, in his own way, helping both Emma and Regina on their paths. Her parents more than made up for this distance, however, and Henry of course had joined in the embrace, tears in his eyes and his voice thick with emotion, heedless of his age.
"It finally feels like things are going right again," he burst out at last, unknowingly echoing the mayor. Wiping his cheeks with the heel of his hand, the teenager glanced at Regina—somewhat warily, but also in apology—before continuing. "I mean don't get me wrong, a lot of good things have happened in Storybrooke. We've taken down plenty of villains, my moms are getting along better than ever, a lot of old grudges are now just a thing of the past…but things have been really tough for all of us…this last year and a half especially. But seeing you again, Graham…"
Henry swallowed hard. "It makes me think that we have a chance. That we'll help everyone, just like we swore, and get back home having done what we came to do, too." Again he glanced at the mayor, this time worriedly. "Although…wait a minute. Did you guys…does everyone know…how did you…?"
Shaking her blonde head a bit, Emma chuckled, though there wasn't much humor in it. "Relax, kid. Everything's fine. A lot of things needed to be said, and they have been. Graham just…needed closure, like everyone else down here." Like we all did. "Now that that's done, I think…I think he's ready to move on."
It was hard to say, but even if so many years hadn't passed, even if she hadn't fallen for Killian, she had to let the sheriff go—for his sake as well as her own. He'd waited this long to resolve things with her and Regina, and now he deserved rest…deserved the same kind of peace and reward that Regina's father, and Hercules and Megara, and especially Neal, had received.
Unsurprisingly, Snow White looked heartbroken. "But we only just got here. And there's so many…" She seemed to catch herself, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin in that familiar way that always made Emma want to grin proudly. "No. You're right. You've done more than enough, you've earned this. After everything you've been through, Graham, you deserve your happy ending, too. It's not what I would have wanted for you, but it's still right and good. You saved me, and Emma saved you." She reached out and took his hands in hers. "I'm just glad we got to see you, one last time."
"Hear, hear," David murmured.
Graham smiled…more genuinely, warmly, and thankfully than she'd ever seen from him, save in those few moments before his death. "Thank you, my friends. I wish I could stay longer, but I've tarried enough as it is…and I'm afraid there's little I could do to help you in your quest. But if I know anything about Snow White and Prince Charming…and the Savior…it's that you'll figure out a way to win all on your own, even against someone no one's ever beaten before." He glanced sidelong at Regina, who had been watching the happy reunions with an unsettled but silent acceptance as she held Robin Hood's hand tightly as a lifeline. "Speaking of, we'd better get to the crossover cavern before…he…finds out and tries to stop us."
The mayor cleared her throat and nodded decisively, rising from the table with a calm and imperious air Emma knew was masking uncertainty, but also a touch of relief and hope. "Yes, of course. Absolutely."
Having been there twice before already, it wasn't difficult retracing their steps to the cavern—through the cave in the forest Megara had shown them to find Hook, then deviating through the tunnels from the labyrinth prison and into the Underworld's analogue to the Storybrooke mines. There, standing on the same cliff-face precipice, with the stone bridge extending out over the yawning gulf of hellish flames, they could already see the opening on the other side, filled with the white light of heavenly paradise.
And unlike with Henry, Sr.—but as with Hercules and Megara—there was nothing to stop Graham from crossing over the space of that terrifying gap…which, even as they approached on the finger of rock, was beginning to vanish as the fires below retreated into the depths and the rest of the bridge coalesced from nothingness. What had been holding the former sheriff here…getting closure with both Emma and Regina, letting them know he forgave them and held nothing against either woman, making peace with his life and how it had ended…was now gone, and he was ready to move on.
Each of the men shook hands with Graham again; Emma thought she heard him murmur to Killian to take good care of Emma, and that he was glad she'd found true love at last, while Robin promised to look after all the woods and its creatures, not just Sherwood Forest, when he returned to the Enchanted Forest. Even David noted that he'd continued to look after the animal shelter for Graham, and planned to keep doing so.
After another long hug with Henry, and an even longer one for Snow while he breathed deeply of her hair's scent, the Huntsman finally looked at Emma again. Stepping close, he brought his lips up to kiss gently upon her forehead, and it was all the blonde could do to retain any composure, to not dissolve in weeping sobs again. As with Regina and her father, despite knowing someone she loved was going to a better place, it still hurt to see him depart, it still felt like losing him all over again.
"Thank you, Emma," he said, in echo of his final words to her in the sheriff's station, the night he died. "Thank you for standing by me…for believing in me…for being willing to forgive and keep moving forward. You wouldn't have broken the curse or saved Storybrooke if you hadn't done that. And if you keep doing that, I know you'll win again somehow, even against Hades." He paused, looking both evasive and worried, but then finally worked up the nerve to speak again.
"If it helps…I've always been very good at ferreting out secrets and mysteries, even before Regina made me the sheriff; things that don't fit, that seem out-of-place and unexplained in the forest, are often dangers that need to be dealt with, one way or another. And I know there's something he's hiding, that he doesn't want anyone to know. I don't know what it is, or where it is, but it may be his only weakness. Find that, and you may be able to get some leverage, force him to let you all go and earn Killian his life back."
Emma wasn't sure why he was only saying this now, especially after having claimed back at the diner that he believed he could be of little help to them—perhaps he had been afraid Hades would overhear, there?—but she certainly appreciated even the smallest clue or scrap of information. Anything that could help them win and get out of this awful place. So she only took his hands, squeezed them, and nodded. "It's not much, but it's a place to start. Thanks."
Graham smiled, that warmth and relief once again shining without hesitation on his face. "Take good care of my wolf for me then, won't you? I'm sure he's been missing me."
She blinked; she hadn't even thought of the animal in years, thanks to all the villainous threats which had plagued Storybrooke, and after the first curse was ended and the second cast, she hadn't even been certain all the same people and creatures were in town as before. But it had shown up once again just last year, during the search for Lily—like the first time, intervening to make sure she stayed on the right path—and it wouldn't surprise her if it was still in the woods around town even now, albeit avoiding both the Merry Men's camp and that of the Camelot refugees. She'd have to ask Robin to look into it when they got back…though it might just come looking for her, if she made the effort.
"Sure," she said through a watery smile, wiping away her tears. "I'd love to."
Shoulders square and back straight, curly brown head lifted bravely to the white light, Graham nodded to each of them one last time, then turned and began striding out across the bridge. But just before he reached where the gap had once been, a voice called out to him—Regina's. "Graham?"
Looking back, the Huntsman quirked a brow. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
With her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Regina looked calm, no-nonsense, and in control as ever…but the look she gave him now wasn't imperious, suspicious, or calculating. In fact she looked happier than she'd been when returning with Henry from seeing off her father. "Remember when I told you that there were two kinds of people in this world, and you were a wolf? And then when you chose to spare Snow White's life, you were only a sheep after all?" She paused, then shook her head with a rueful smile. "I was wrong. Today you've shown me I couldn't have been more wrong about you."
Graham smiled back…shyly, gently, but with that mischievous gleam oddly back in his dark eyes. "Maybe. Maybe not. Wolves aren't what most people think they are, you know. Predators, yes. Fierce hunters. Deadly dangerous to those who threaten them or their young. But they're also very protective, endlessly devoted in loyalty and love. Emma's like that. So is Snow. Even you, when it comes to young Henry. I was no less, once I found someone to care for, once I realized they deserved my protection. So maybe you just…needed to see wolves, and me, in a different light."
As if his words had summoned it, the shining white rays from across the cavern grew brighter still, and with a final wave and salute…and a long, meaningful look at Emma…he crossed the bridge and ascended the steps on the other side, disappearing into the light. As he departed, something more than the blazing glow had her eyes tearing up again—for as he disappeared, she was certain she heard the howl of a wolf, waiting to greet him. And she knew she'd made the right choice, coming down here.
Whatever it took, she would keep saving those who needed it. She would stand against Hades, or Gold, or whoever tried to stop them. And she would rescue Killian as well. Because that was what Saviors did. She'd forgotten it when losing herself in the Darkness. She'd tried to stay true to it when sacrificing herself for Regina and the town, when trying to spare Killian's life…doing the wrong things for the right reasons. Now she would do it right again. Now that she had love in her life, she wasn't letting it go for anything.
"Bye, Graham," she whispered. "I won't let you down. I promise."
(A/N: So, this is a one-shot I'd been wanting to write for a very long time. At first I was waiting to see if Eddy & Adam would ever return to it themselves—I knew of course that Jamie Dornan was often if not always unavailable, hence why he didn't get to appear in the time travel finale for Season 3 or in the Underworld, but I had thought perhaps, with all the old plot points from the first season getting revisited in Season 6, that they might finally touch on Graham, even if only offscreen. Then when they didn't, I was too busy watching the final season, and life got in the way as it tends to do. And finally, I wasn't sure I wanted or would be able to write OUAT fanfiction, let alone this one. But as difficult as it was resolving this character arc and these plot points without undermining all the development that had happened for Regina and Emma, I felt it was too important to leave unaddressed. So here it is.
Some of you may feel I resolved things a little too quickly and easily—and honestly, I might someday revisit this and expand it out into a larger story with more drama that could have filled an entire episode—or that I was going too easy on Regina. Which honestly would be a fair criticism, considering how long I myself hated and refused to forgive her for this. But after thinking about it long and hard, and doing some soul-searching, I came up with Graham's answers and found they were, if not completely satisfying, at least emotionally resonant and appropriate for both the plot and all the characters involved. And this seemed to be the best if not only way to resolve things without completely turning it into a long, painful conflict, yet still allowing for proper closure. In any event, by now most people have already had their feelings on Regina and how the writers treated her set in stone, for good or ill, so I expect this story would have produced the same feelings and reactions no matter how long I dragged it out or resolved it in the end. And, as should be clear from pretty much all the fanfiction I've written, I'm a sucker for redemption tales and always will be.
That all said, I think I did a good job capturing the characters' various voices—you'll have to tell me!—and it was a lot of fun [albeit often in an evil way at times] making references and shout-outs, not to mention foreshadowing of what would happen later in the fifth and sixth seasons. In case anyone is confused, by the way, the wolf howl at the end is meant to stand in for some other member of Graham's pack, not the wolf Emma met in the first and fourth seasons. And of course the title of this story is meant to be a deliberate parallel and answer to Season 1's "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter." Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, as in the end it worked out better than I had hoped for and helped my own heart to heal, too. R/R!)