Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or the characters therein.
A/N: I stated in the Promo that I would leave another note if my decision about pairings changed. I have written ahead quite a bit; I am writing Episode 9 now. When editing, I noticed that I unwittingly set up SwanQueen. While I followed my outline, the nuances written are definitely leaning toward SQ. While I still plan for the story to end without them being paired, I acknowledge that it's possible that they will end up together. If it does, this will be an incredibly slow burn, for reasons made clear in this chapter. At the very least, there will be a great deal of emotional intimacy between them in the latter half. Consider yourself warned and stop reading if the possibility of SQ is not your cup of tea.
Trigger Warnings: Death, attempted rape
Outside of Fate
Episode One: Parting of the Ways
Emma hooked her arm around the guy's neck and twisted with her shoulders, slamming him to the ground. Some people continued walking by while others stopped to stare, pulling out their phones. Emma would have rolled her eyes at the bystanders and their gawking if she were not so busy at the moment.
The purse-snatcher needed to be dealt with first.
She shifted just so, planting her knee in his back and holding him down. Emma deftly reached down and grabbed the purse from his hand. A young couple jogged up to her, eyes as wide as their smiles.
"Thank you," the young woman gushed, taking her purse back.
Emma nodded and pulled out a spare set of handcuffs she kept, even when she wasn't working. "You're welcome. Don't worry, I've got this. I'm in good with cops around here." She smiled at the couple then cuffed the thief and pulled him up.
True to her word, the police were amused and unsurprised to see her pushing the thief into the station in front of her.
"Another citizen's arrest, Swan?" Tony, the officer at the desk, asked. A smile curled on his lips.
"I'm beginning to think you fellas should just swear me in," Emma quipped. She nudged her prisoner. "Purse snatcher."
Tony considered this. "Second Street?"
"Yep."
Tony nodded. "We've had a rash of snatches over there. Must be this guy. Thanks, Swan. We owe ya."
Emma waved them away. "No big deal. I'm out. I need to head home and build a bookshelf."
"Later, Swan."
"Later, Tony."
-PotW-
"I told you to wait," Regina said calmly.
Robin frowned up at her. "I do not need Emma to do everything for me, Regina. I am fully capable of assembling this." He gestured to the various boards and screws around him. "I am not incompetent."
Regina smiled gently at him. He'd been terribly prickly of late. Well, since they'd moved to California three months prior. She needed to tread carefully. "I never said that, Robin. I know you are a very capable, very good man." She walked closer and touched him on the shoulder. "You have very different skills. Emma is used to this world, more than we are. If we were in the Enchanted Forest, you would be leading the charge, I'm sure."
He sighed and relaxed into her touch. "I know," he admitted, "but it still bothers me. I am trying to be a better man to you. And the people here are strange. I mentioned that I used to go hunting at work the other day and the others were terribly offended that I ate meat and was so cruel to the innocent wildlife, or something like that." He shrugged. "I don't know how to be part of this world."
"You'll learn," Regina reassured him. "Give it time. Emma might—"
"Emma won't let me work with her and we both know it. For obvious reasons." He gave Regina a pleading look. "Are you sure we can trust her?"
Regina had to force herself to step away from Robin before she did something drastic. "I am," she promised. "Emma won't harm any of us or anyone else, for that matter. You can trust that."
Robin rubbed his face and pushed himself up off the floor. "I believe you but… Regina. We are talking about a woman who has severe insomnia and hears voices." He barreled on before Regina could speak. "Yes, I know she no longer sees the Dark Ones, and I do recognize that she does sleep sometimes, but that does not change the facts. She is dangerous."
"Not to us," Regina said firmly. "She will be the scourge of the criminal underground, but she is harmless to us."
"Henry still doesn't trust her," he rebutted.
"He is trying. His trust was broken and she is trying to earn it back. Besides, you've always been so quick to forgive me, and what I did in one day was far worse than everything Emma did after she fell to the Darkness."
"Perhaps," he gave a little nod, "but I am not in love with Emma."
"I should hope not," Regina agreed with a weak smile.
He smiled tightly in reply. "I'm going to make myself useful and go collect Roland. Henry has soccer practice, but I trust he will be home in time for dinner." He kissed her cheek and stepped around her.
Regina waited until he was out of earshot before making a noise of disapproval at the mess he had made. Emma would not be pleased. She also would have built the entire shelf in the time in took Robin to make this mess. The blonde would have to clean and reorganize everything before she actually built it.
"Well, wasn't that just touching," Zelena mocked form the doorway. "Makes my green and withered heart beat a little faster, watching you two. So moving, really, how you managed to make him feel less incompetent than he really is. But really Sis, how do you know he would be better off than your dear Emma in the Enchanted Forest? She seems to be a bit of a survivor. Enquiring minds want to know."
"I have not doubt that Emma would be just fine in the Enchanted Forest, but she probably would not be as adept as Robin since he was raised there," Regina defended. "And she is not my Emma."
"Isn't she, though?" Zelena stood up straight. "See, I've been thinking long and hard about all this. I do love my little pistachio, and I quite enjoy my time with her. But ever since you dragged all of us to this godforsaken land without magic to be with the sleep-deprived Swan," she tittered, "I've had plenty of time to see you. Really see you. I've watched you with my child, I've watched you with Emma's, and I've watched you with Marian's. Do you want to know what I've noticed, Sister?"
"Enlighten me," Regina drawled.
"You treat them very much like you treat Robin. You treat them like children. Do you want to know what else I've noticed?"
Regina narrowed her eyes.
"I've noticed," she drew out the words, stepping closer until she was close enough to whisper. "I've noticed you don't treat Emma the same way. Our Dearly Deranged Dark One, despite many of her childish antics, is the one you treat like your partner. Funny, don't you think?" She drew back, a dark gleam in her eyes.
"Well. Lovely chat, Sis. Nothing has changed, unless you count my awareness of who you really are. If you don't mind, I'd quite like to hold my child now."
And with that, she turned away, leaving Regina stunned in her wake.
-PotW-
The steady tick-tick-tick was soothing. Belle had become accustomed to the quiet a long time ago, and while she did not much care for the chaos that accompanied her often frantic searches for knowledge, she did enjoy a little noise. Something, anything, rather than the unbroken silence of the cell under the hospital.
She had nightmares, sometimes. They varied. Sometimes she dreamt of falling, sometimes of crying. Sometimes she chased a shadow in the light, but it always seemed so far away and she could never catch up. But always, always, the silence was what caused her to wake up, heart thundering in her chest.
As a child, she might have said blindness was her greatest fear. Blind, she would struggle far more with reading. This world had Braille—the Enchanted Forest did not. She would have been lost to the world of literature forever. That, of course, was before she'd been held prisoner where silence had been her only companion, excluding only those moments food was given or taken, or she made a sound herself.
"Belle?" A gentle voice called to her, pulling her from her thoughts.
She gave a shaky smile. "Sorry, Doctor Hopper. I seem to be getting lost in my thoughts quite often."
He smiled kindly in return. "No need to apologize," he offered. "If you want to tell me where your thoughts take you, Belle, I would listen."
Her smile twisted into a grimace. "I… have dreams. Nightmares, if I'm honest." She stopped, unsure of what to say next.
"About Rumplestilskin?" He suggested. "Camelot? Something else entirely?"
She winced. "Silence."
He leaned back, but he didn't speak. He simply waited. This was the fourth time she'd met with him, and he was always so good about giving her the time she needed to gather her thoughts.
"I dream but I can't hear anything. When I can't hear, and when I'm trapped in that silence, it reminds me of being a prisoner. I never realized how important sounds are. It doesn't even have to be music. The ticking of a clock," she nodded to the clock on the wall, "the rustle of clothing, someone's breathing. They are all things that let you know that you are here, alive. They're important."
"They ground you."
"Exactly!" She sat up, leaning forward a little. "They tell me what is real and what is not, but when I dream, I can't remember that I'm asleep. I feel… trapped."
Archie considered this. "Do you feel trapped, or do you maybe feel lost?"
Belle considered this. She forced herself to think back to her last dream. "I think… I think maybe I don't feel either. I think I feel something else." She shifted in her seat. "I think that… oh I don't know."
"I think maybe you do know, but you don't want to say it," Archie told her gently. "You can say it out loud, Belle. You don't have to be embarrassed."
Belle covered her face with one hand. "I… I feel lonely."
Archie nodded, but Belle wasn't looking at him to see. "Trapped and alone? Forgive me if I overstep, but we've talked a great deal about your life. It seems to me that you've spent a lot of time being both trapped and alone. Usually both at the same time."
"And it was exactly the same in my marriage!" The words spilled out before she could stop them. "I hoped that getting married would change it, make it better, but he was gone so often, and not just to Neverland or the Underworld. He was always slipping away from me, off doing something—usually something Dark. And there I was, sitting at home like a good little wife, with only the silence for company. It seems like I am only who I want to be without him, but…" Belle trailed off, not sure if she could make herself say the words.
"But you still love him."
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep her composure, fighting to keep the tears at bay. "I still love him."
Archie was quiet for a moment. "You know. A lot of times, people get angry with themselves because they feel like they have done something or feel something they think they shouldn't. Like, in your case, loving someone who has hurt you.
"But Belle, you have to understand that this is perfectly normal." He leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk. "Completely normal," he repeated. "People who have been abused usually don't want their abuser to go away—they just want the abuse to stop. That seems a little crazy, right? If they leave, then so do the problems. But you know why they want the person who hurt them to stay?"
Belle sniffled. "They love them," she stated, sure this was the truth. Archie smiled gently and nodded, but didn't speak. Instead, he continued to look at her, and Belle knew him well enough by now to know he wanted her to continue. "We love them enough to believe they can change. Even if they can't."
"Everyone can change," Archie said quickly.
"Then why won't he?" And why couldn't she change, she wanted to ask. Belle didn't thinks she was quite strong enough for that just yet.
Archie started to clean his glasses slowly. He squinted at her while he wiped his lenses. "When the fear and pain of staying the same outweighs the fear and pain of changing, only then can change occur." He put his glasses on. "Change of any kind is scary. It is the great unknown. And Rumplestiltskin hadn't known any kind of change for, well, I'm not really sure. A few hundred years, I think. Change must be terrifying to him." He sat back and in his chair. "But you know how scary change is."
"I like change," she argued. "I like adventure."
"I'm not really sure it's the same, though. I mean, there is a difference between going on a vacation to an exotic land and going to live there. If the vacation isn't fun, you just come home and decide not to go back, right? And you prepare for the next great adventure somewhere else. But what if you were to move to, say, Japan? Not just to visit the temples and try the food and talk with the locals. Actually live there. Buy a house and be surrounded by the Japanese people with their rules and laws and their entirely different culture." Archie pushed his glasses up further on his nose. "See the difference? Change is permanent. An adventure is temporary."
Belle considered is words. "Yes, I think I see. But…"
"Why weren't you enough of a reason for him to change?" He guessed. She nodded. "I don't know. You would have to ask him."
"I don't want to talk to him right now."
Archie nodded. "So don't. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Not anymore. You are not trapped."
"But I am still alone."
"Not as much as you might think," he challenged. "Romance is a beautiful and sometimes terrible part of life, but it is not the only part. You are allowed to have friends, Belle. You are allowed to speak with your father when you are ready to see if you can mend your relationship with him. You are allowed to get a dog or a cat or a pet snake or anything you want. Loneliness can be a choice. Not always, but it can be. The question now, is what are you going to choose?"
Belle nodded slowly. "I think I have a lot to think about."
"Well, if you need any help, you can always come talk things out with me."
"Thank you."
-PotW-
Rumplestiltskin was much like a river. Calm on the surface, but the current ran deep. He was a man on a mission. Nothing would stop him. No one would stop him. As such, he continued to look through his many tomes.
He glanced up as the bell over his door chimed. His hands stilled. He moved casually toward the front of the store, keeping his expression bored. "Maleficent. To what do I owe the displeasure of seeing you here in my shop?"
"Hello to you too. I see your continued separation from you wife has done little to improve your disposition. And you wonder why she left you," Maleficent returned.
Rumplestiltskin bit back a snarl. "Why are you here?"
"Are you being existential or literal?" She mocked, striding forward. "I can't quite tell."
"Get to the point, you overgrown lizard," he snapped. He had no time for her.
Maleficent chuckled, but the sound entirely bitter. "It seems we are in a position to help one another."
"I very much doubt that."
"Do you now?" She cooed. "You see, we dragons have very good eyesight. I know what you were reading. I've been watching you for the last few days, actually. It took awhile, but I was able to guess what you are looking for. I can help."
"So you're here to make a deal," he murmured.
"Surely that is not surprising to you," she answered. She leaned against the counter. "Dragon scales are very powerful, and quite necessary no matter what path you decide to take. I have plenty to spare."
"As do I."
Maleficent nodded. "I'm sure you have plenty on your shelves. But you and I both know that the fresher the better. Those have been crushed up and labeled oregano for the better part of the last 30 years or so. Not very helpful, not for what you want."
Rumplestiltskin pondered her words. "And what do you want in exchange?"
Maleficent smiled grimly. "Knowledge and a little bit of help, of course."
-PotW-
Emma seethed as she put the final touches on the bookshelf. She was going to be late to her stakeout. She glanced out the window at the source of her frustration. Robin was out there with Henry and Roland, kicking a soccer ball back and forth between the three of them. There he was, having fun and playing with Emma's son, and there she was, cleaning up his mess.
But of course, he always got the things she wanted. Like actually having a good relationship with Henry. Away from the Merry Men, Robin was actually a good father. While Part of Emma knew she was being irrational, another part (the Dark One part, she was sure) relished hating the man just because Henry liked his company.
Emma pushed the thought away, knowing (hoping) it wasn't hers. California was far from Storybrooke, and life was better here, but not perfect. The Dark Ones still spoke to her from time to time. She couldn't see them anymore, didn't have any strange visions of the past, and could occasionally sleep. The voices and frequent bouts of insomnia were a part of her life though.
As was her title of breadwinner. Robin's job made for a more comfortable living, but Emma's bounty hunting brought in most of the money. Bounty Hunting was far more lucrative around here. A lot of people ran to California for the lifestyle they thought they wanted. It kept her busy, and they lived a very comfortable life. Robin, though, got the glory because he bought the more interesting things. The fun things.
Henry was even taking lessons on how to surf. He'd been so excited when Robin said he'd paid for the lessons already. Never mind that Emma paid his school fees and bought his soccer uniform. Robin was the hero because of the surfing lessons.
Still, she didn't have time to dwell on that. With the mess cleaned up and the bookshelf built, she had another job. Business was lucrative because there was so much of it. For someone who couldn't sleep, that just meant she had plenty of time to take more contracts.
Tonight's was going to be particularly difficult. The guy she was after had a bad reputation for beating women. That was part of why she was so eager to take the creep down. His wife called in every debt she had to post his bail, and he ran, had a string of girlfriends that always ended with him beating and leaving them. Rumor had it, he had a date that night. She was going to catch him before he could continue with his pattern.
Emma made her way downstairs to her room. She grabbed her gear and got ready to head out. She passed by the refrigerator, forcing herself not to look at the picture Roland drew in his… whatever class he was in. Pre-school or kindergarten, she wasn't sure. But no, she dare not look at the happy family he drew, with him and Henry standing between Robin and Regina, and Zelena beside them all, holding his sister. Emma was nowhere in the picture.
It didn't bother her, she told herself. Roland wasn't her kid, she wasn't part of his family. Of course she would not be in his family portrait. She was not upset.
Regina stopped her by the door. "You can take a night off, you know," Regina chided.
Emma shrugged, not daring to look at her. "Yeah. Not tonight though. This guy needs to be caught. I can't just sit around when he's loose. I have a bad feeling about tonight."
Regina frowned behind her. "What do you mean you have a bad feeling?"
Emma turned. "I don't know. I kinda feel like someone is gonna get hurt tonight. Not like broken nail kind of hurt. Hospital kind of hurt. Probably the woman he's going out with tonight. This creep needs to be behind bars." She looked at the clock and cursed. "I gotta go. I want to be in place long before he gets there. See ya."
"Emma!" Regina called. Emma met her gaze. Regina hesitated. "Be careful."
Emma smiled crookedly. "Sure will."
And then she was gone.
-PotW-
"You can't use your hands," Henry corrected for what felt like the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes.
"Try to listen to Henry, Roland," Robin added.
Roland giggled and nodded, but Henry knew well enough that he had no intentions of following through on the rules. He was frustrated, but was also trying hard to be patient. Emma had been patient enough with him when she taught him about baseball in New York. He was trying to show the same patience now.
"Emma!" Roland cheered, pointing to the blonde as she walked out of the house. He waved, but Emma didn't appear to be aware and made her way to the Bug without looking back.
Henry watched her go, worried. All she ever seemed to do lately was work. She often missed family meals to build things around the house. She offered to teach Henry a few times, but he always made excuses. He was just not ready to let her be his mother again, not yet, not after everything.
He wanted to, though. He missed Operation Cobra, he missed her easy laugh, he missed her silly jokes. His missed his mom. He would try harder, he decided. She was trying, so he would try. The sting of her lies, built up over the years that he had known her, were hard to deal with, but he was sure he could manage. She'd lied about believing him, about his father, about Camelot—so many things. He hated being lied to.
He also hated how she always tried to do everything herself. He was a hero too—he could help if she would just take the time to tell him what was going on. It seemed that her asking for help getting the dreamcatchers back was a one-time deal, as she had not asked him for help again.
But just like with his other mother, he knew he could not hold on to his anger forever. Yes, the next time she was home and working on some new project, he would ask her to teach him. Henry nodded to himself, pleased with his plan.
"Henry!" Roland called. "Let's play!"
Henry looked back to the boy and smiled. "Okay, Buddy, try to get the ball into the goal!"
-PotW-
Snow cooed at Neal as she finished changing his diaper. "How's my handsome little man? Hmm? How are you?" She tickled him; he giggled up at her, reaching out. Snow laughed and lifted him in her arms. "There's my big boy, there he is. Come on, let's go see Daddy. Do you want to go see Daddy, Neal? Good idea, let's go see Daddy."
She carried him downstairs, rubbing his back as she went. He babbled at her, content. She smiled and nuzzled the side of his head with her nose. Peace and quiet and family. It was really all she ever wanted.
It pained her that her family was so fractured. Her daughter left, taking a large part of their family with her. Regina was determined to support Emma and refused to be left behind, taking Henry with them. Robin, of course, followed Regina, taking his own children. Zelena, though not considered part of the family, also tagged along to be with her daughter. Snow thought that maybe she was just waiting for a chance to kidnap the babe, but so far everything had been relatively calm.
What a mess. How strange that peace and quiet was the exception and not the rule, that expecting a woman to kidnap her child seemed perfectly normal. Worse, there had been nothing but peace and quiet in Storybrooke for the three months Emma had been away. Even Rumplestiltskin seemed to be behaving himself. It made Emma being gone worse, somehow. Emma said that everyone would be better off without her, and she had been right.
But she had her husband and she had her son, and that would be enough. It would have to be enough. No matter how tired she was—Neal hadn't slept through the night once since his sister had left. She'd tried telling Emma as much a few weeks after she'd left, but her words fell on deaf ears.
Snow finished strapping Neal into his car seat, gave his belly one more tickle, then moved around to sit in the driver's seat. "Daddy's at work, my little man, but Daddy forgot his lunch. Let's go take him something to eat, okay? Okay!" She gave an exaggerated nod he couldn't see, and started the car.
-PotW-
As the acting Sheriff, David had an awful lot of paperwork. More than he'd originally thought. With no major crises, he believed (perhaps foolishly) that everything would slow down. As it turned out, he still had plenty to do. There was work to do every time Pongo ran off and he was called out to find him. Budget reports. Various other memos and reports that were driving him mad.
When he looked through the files, he found that Emma was surprisingly good at keeping up with the paperwork, and had made a variety of shortcuts. For instance, she had a template for when she had to chase down Pongo saved on her desktop. Really, all she had to fill out was the date and time Archie called in and when and where she found Pongo. Everything else, all of Archie's information, the description of Pongo and everything else, was already filled out and walked a fine line between generic enough to fit any situation and specific enough to satisfy any auditor.
It was truly a shame he had only discovered that gem the week before. Pongo ran off at least twice a week.
And there was actually money left over in the budget when she'd been in tenure. He wasn't sure why that was surprising. Given how lazy she sometimes seemed, David thought the worst of his daughter. Now, placed in the role she'd carried and done so well in, he was forced to change his perception.
He felt guilty. It wasn't that he thought his daughter truly lazy. He'd seen her work out every morning when they lived together. He'd seen how quick she was to chase down someone on the run. It wasn't that he thought she was unintelligent, either. He'd seen her work miracles on a computer. He'd seen her plans, no matter how terrifying and hare-brained, work out time and again. It was just that, well, she did not act like a princess.
So yes, he felt guilty for often thinking the worst of her, for wondering what she would have been like if he had ben able to raise her, as he so desperately wanted to do. That was all impossible now, and probably for the best. Emma's absence was keenly felt, but he was determined to be a good Sheriff to Storybrooke and a good father to Neal.
Emma giving him the password to her desktop helped. Her files were a veritable goldmine in making his life as Sheriff easier. Who knew the Excel program was so useful? Or that Emma was so adept at using it?
Snow slipped in just then, and David smiled at the sight of his wife and child. "Hey," he greeted softly.
"Hey," Snow smiled back. "You busy? I brought lunch. I figured you need a break."
David nodded and leaned back. "Yeah, something like that. I think I may have to hire a deputy. I don't remember it, being in a coma and all, but I don't know how Graham ran everything for 28 years with no help."
"Well, it was basically the same day set on repeat until Henry came, so for a long time there really wasn't much to do." Snow shrugged and shifted Neal in her arms to David could hold him.
"Hey, Pal," David said to the infant, taking a tiny hand in his. He would never get tired of these moments. He smiled up at Snow. "And how was your morning?"
"Long," she sighed. "He took a nap, so I took a nap before cleaning a little. Then I realized you forgot your lunch, so here we are."
David nodded. "I love our little guy, but his little sleeping problem has become ours." He looked down at the boy and gave him a tired smile. "You don't have to share everything, you know."
Snow gave a breathy little laugh and leaned against the desk. "Agreed. I think maybe he can feel how upset we are that Emma left and that's why he's not sleeping."
David considered this, bouncing his son in his arms. "Maybe. You don't think he misses her, do you? I mean, she didn't spend much time with him."
Snow winced. "Because we didn't let them bond," she admitted and looked away for a moment. "But I think it makes more sense that he is picking up on our feelings. I think we are going to have to do better with that. You know. Our feelings about Emma."
The man looked down at the babe in his arms, who stared solemnly back up at him. "I think our little man understands more than most babies do. You're right." He sighed. "We'll have to do better. Emma left and she's not coming back anytime soon. I think we are going to have to leave that part of our life behind."
-PotW-
Emma sipped the bitter brew. It was cold. She needed a better thermos for her stakeouts. That or she needed a break from stakeouts that lasted from just after seven to nearly midnight, maybe even not decide to be in place over an hour early in case he changed his pattern.
She perked up—they were finally walking out of their dingy little hole. The man, she'd taken to calling him the Creeper, had his arm around the woman's thin waist. It was pretty easy to get the wheel lock in place once the Creeper went inside. She'd considered going in to get him then, but then she'd seen his date through the window. A frightfully pale and worn woman. She had the look of a woman who hadn't eaten properly in some time. Let the creep pay for her meal. Emma could get him after.
And now he was finally on his way out. The Creeper was grinning, the woman holding tight to him, her steps unsteady. Emma would bet her last paycheck the woman was tipsy if not flat out drunk. Great. That made everything so much messier.
Deciding to get it done sooner rather than later, Emma slid out of the Bug and walked casually across the street, thankful for the lack of traffic in this corner of the neighborhood. Just as the Creeper opened the passenger side door, Emma tackled him, taking him to the ground with an ease born of practice.
It was far easier than she'd been expecting. The woman just laughed about the whole thing and watched. Emma wasn't sure if it was because the woman realized who she'd been on a date with or if she was so far gone that everything was funny in her drunken haze. Either way, it didn't matter. It was not safe to leave the woman on her own. Emma would have to take the Creeper to the station and then she'd have to take the mystery woman home before she could go back to the Mills-Hood residence.
She pushed back that mocking voices that asked if it should be the Swan-Mills-Hood residence before reminding her that there was only one Swan there, compared to the three Hoods and the three Mills'. No, they agreed, Mills-Hood indeed. Only one Swan, one who was barely home, one they were better off without.
Emma ignored them and got the cuffed Creeper and the tipsy woman into her Bug. She had more important issues to address than the remnants of the Dark Ones.
-Potw-
Regina was absolutely not panicking. Yes, it was nearly one in the morning. Yes, Emma was a grown woman and fully capable of taking care of herself. No, Regina was neither her mother nor her keeper. But she still worried.
Worry was not panic, she reminded herself, looking at the clock. Another minute had passed, but still nothing from Emma.
"Really, Sis, your aura is ruining my chi like always, so give it a rest. Your swan will be back soon enough," Zelena informed her crisply.
Robin sighed. "I fear I must agree with Zelena in this matter. Emma has been out later than this and you never worried. If you won't rest, will you at least explain your worry?"
Regina scowled for a moment. "Emma said she had a bad feeling about tonight."
Robin did not seem impressed, but it was Zelena who scoffed. "Really? That's why you are keeping us awake like this? Emma said she had a bad feeling? As if the blonde blunder had never been wrong before." She looked disgusted. "She probably got lost." Zelena stood. "I'm going to bed."
Regina watched her sister go, unwilling or perhaps unable to let the matter rest. "I'm going to call her," she decided, pulling out her phone.
"Regina, please," Robin started. "This is madness. It is far too late, and Emma is a grown woman, fully capable of handling herself." His words echoed her thoughts as he took her hands. "Let this go. Come to bed. The children are asleep, and they have the day off of school tomorrow. I promised Roland we could go to the park. We should get some rest. We will be ill-prepared to deal with our children in the morning if we don't get any sleep."
Robin pulled her to the stairs, Regina reluctantly allowing it.
At 2:30 in the morning, Regina slipped out of bed. Emma still had not returned. Her stomach in knots, she grabbed her phone. This was absurd. Madness. She would call, Emma would chuckle and make a comment about stopping for a drink (though she knew Emma wouldn't, Emma never drank anything harder than Bud Light anymore) and she would be home soon.
Sighing, Regina swiped down on her phone and pressed the picture of Emma.
-PotW-
Emma yawned as she made her way down the stairs. The Creeper was locked up and Marla, his date, was now safely ensconced in her shabby apartment in an unsavory part of town. Emma giggled as she made her way down the sidewalk. Unsavory. Regina would be proud of her for using a word like that.
She had just reached the curb where she parked when she heard it. A groan covering a whimper, the rustle of clothing. She turned slowly, listening hard. A sniffle and an incoherent snarl. Something was wrong.
Frowning, Emma stepped closer. It was well after two in the morning, and few people had a good reason for being out this late, let alone in an alley. She picked up a rusted pipe. Not exactly her gun, but this would do.
"—wearing a skirt like that, you know you want it," a man hissed, grinding up against the woman he had pinned to the alley wall. That was more than enough.
Emma didn't stop to think. "Hey!" She snapped. The man froze. "Get away from her." No one moved. "Now!"
The man looked over, his hand on the other woman's bared stomach. "Move along, Baby, 'less you wanna join the party."
"Let her go," Emma said slowly, bringing the pipe up to show she had a weapon. The man seemed unimpressed. "I've already taken in two punks in the last 24 hours. I'm sure my friends at the station would be happy for me to bring in a third."
His eyes narrowed. "You think you're a real hero, huh? Think you can intimidate me with a few pretty words you made up. Get out of here, you dumb b—"
Emma swung, but he ducked, pushing the other woman away. She whimpered and staggered, trying to hold her shirt closed. Emma twirled the pipe like it was a sword and brought it back in another arching swing, catching the man on his left shoulder. He collapsed, clutching his shoulder and moaning. "You just stay there," she told him, looking back at the woman.
Seeing her holding her shirt closed, Emma immediately pulled her jacket off. The cold night air nipped at her, but the shivering woman needed the protection of red leather more than Emma did. Slowly, slowly, she offered the jacket. The woman took it with shaking hands, eyes untrusting and wide with fear.
A sound behind her—Emma whirled, swinging the pipe and slamming it into the man's head, sending him crashing to the ground. She stood there, confused. What happened? She swayed and turned, the motion unsteady. The woman looked at her, looked at Emma's side, then screamed. Or, Emma thought she did. Emma couldn't hear anything except for a light buzzing in her ears.
The woman ran, arms flailing. She was wearing Emma's jacket, she noticed. How did she get that? Wasn't Emma wearing it? She looked down. Red. There was red all over her stomach and side, but it was not from her jacket. There was something in her side—ah. A knife. So that's what all the fuss was about. A knife. She'd been stabbed.
Emma looked up. The woman was standing in the street, arms waving and sometimes pointing at the alley. She staggered, leaning heavily on the filthy alley wall. She slipped down, down, down until she was sitting. Emma stared at the woman in the street. One of the lights flickered on across the street. The buzzing was louder.
Emma giggled as she watched the frantic woman. "I'm gonna die," she muttered to no one, blood on her lips. It hurt to talk. She thought she saw a car pull over, or a flash of light, sparks from the power lines maybe, but she wasn't sure. Everything was so blurry. "I'm gonna die jus' like I lived." She choked, blood dribbling down her chin.
Her head lulled to the side. Her chest heaved then stilled. The light dimmed from her eyes. Silence. Stillness. Just dark as the streetlights flickered out.
In her pocket, Emma's phone started to ring.
-End Episode One: Parting of the Ways-