When she sees him the next day at noon, he looks bad. It's not obvious, but he just looks bad. Maybe it's the lack of guyliner he wears that accentuates the dark circles under his eyes, or maybe she just never paid enough attention to actually notice them. She's unsure which maybe she prefers. Either way, he looks terrible, and she doesn't know why.
He waves at her from a far that day, but doesn't come closer to strike up a conversation, which is very unlike both versions of him. She's not used to the distance, but she doesn't do anything about it. When Henry asks her why she's looking so confused that night, she says she's just frustrated with breaking Killian's curse. She isn't technically lying, so the weight of the guilt she would usually feel isn't as heavy.
She has half a mind to go over to his room and ask him what's wrong. She almost does, but Henry makes her have a movie night. Emma doesn't even know what movie they're watching, she's simply staring blankly at the moving pictures on the screen, with soft sounds her brain registers as white noise. She racks her brain for what could have happened between last night's dinner and this morning, and nothing. Hopefully, it really is nothing – it's just her jumping to conclusions too quickly, since after all, it's only been a day. Somewhere towards the end of the movie, she asks her son if he spent time with him today, and he replies with a distracted shake of the head. If it is her fault, it makes no sense for Killian to not spend time with Henry though. It has to be something bigger.
By the end of the film, Henry turns the TV off before kissing her on the cheek to say goodnight. Emma smiles and pulls him in for a hug. She's confused and she just needs to hold onto something permanent so she hugs him much tighter and much longer than usual. If he notices, he does nothing but gives her a sweet smile, before he heads off to his room.
She goes to her room a few minutes later, but it isn't until an hour later that she is finally able to fall asleep.
She just on her way to the station the next morning when she sees him jog her way. He's wearing black track pants, and a dark dri-fit Nike shirt that's doing wonders to his chest and abdominal areas while his right hand holds onto a bottle of water. His left arm is bare. She didn't even know the small town of Storybrooke sold Nike products, but she thanks it anyway. He's dripping with sweat, making his usual well-styled hair stick to his forehead, but he still looks attractive.
He's walking now, probably beginning to cool down after his jog and she in turn walks towards him. They meet each other halfway and when he smiles brightly at her, all her confusion from the night before vanishes.
"Good jog?"
He nods.
"Off to work?"
She nods.
And then just like that, the confusion is back. Since when had it been so awkward for her to just talk to him? Usually, conversation just flowed. She makes it more uncomfortable by shuffling her feet and looking at the ground.
"Well," when he speaks, she looks up slowly, from bottom to top, and she pauses when she sees the word spelling Milah tattooed to his forearm. When she does meet his eyes, he looks uncomfortable, and she notices how he pulls his arm back to hide it from her. She then realizes that he probably thinks she's staring at his stump. She's about to reassure him that she's not, but he cuts her to the chase. "I best shower now, Swan," he scratches the back of his neck.
She tries to say something to tell him his scars don't bother her, but before she can, he nods with a brief smile before darting off to leave her standing there alone.
She turns to look at his retreating figure but he doesn't look back. Emma watches him enter the diner without so much as a glance in her direction and she swears she feels her heart break a little.
She thinks maybe this is what it felt like for him all those countless times she's turned her back on him, except when she does it, it's much worse. She's rejected him and his tries to comfort her far too many times. How he hasn't given up on her is still a mystery.
She knows David can tell something is off, but he doesn't ask, and she's thankful for it.
"What're you going to do after you break the curse?" he asks confidently, as if breaking the curse is a sure thing.
"What do you mean?"
He shakes his head and gives her a short smile, saying 'never mind' wordlessly. She leans against his desk next to him and nudges him to go on.
"I just mean," he begins, then hesitates, "You said you wanted to leave after the whole Zelena thing and go back to New York." It's all he says and she knows what he means on asking.
Are you still planning on leaving?
And the truth is, she doesn't know. She's still unsure if she really belongs in Storybrooke, and is determined to find out, and the only way she'll be sure of it is if she runs. This time however, running would leave more collateral damage than before. Before, she didn't have anyone who'd miss her, anyone who'd actually be affected by her leaving. Before, life went on after she ran. Now, she has people to think of. She has David, she has Snow and even her baby brother. She hates thinking that Liam would have to grow up with an absent sister. She has to think about both Regina and Gold, because as much as she's had a past with both people, they all love Henry. Then she has Henry to think of. She can't leave without him, nor can she take him away from all the people that care about him.
She has Killian.
Emma gives a brittle laugh, and David stares, "Neal- he told me something on the first day I met him," she begins, and now she has her father's full attention. "He said you don't really have a home until you just miss it. And I haven't missed anything like that yet. I'm going to keep running until I do."
She thinks he's going to argue with her; that he's going to tell her that this is her home and she doesn't need to run to be sure of it. But he doesn't. Unlike her mother, David understands. It's not her mother's fault, but she's always felt like she could turn to her father for anything and he'd get it. It used to be Snow whom she could ask for help from. That, however, was before Snow was Snow. It was still when she was Mary Margaret. But ever since the curse broke, she feels as though she's lost her friend. She feels that she tries too hard to be her mother, that she's lost sight of what Emma really needs. Her father- he just understands.
"Okay."
"Okay?" she asks unsurely, and he gives her a 'what do you expect me to say' look. "You're not going to argue with me? You're not going to tell me that I'm making the wrong decision? You're not going to tell me that I'm being selfish?"
He shrugs. He shrugs and Emma is beginning to get angry. "I'm confident you'll come home," he punctuates the word. "I say you should do what you have to to be sure. But I know you'll come back."
"Dad," the name slips out before she can think about it, and she sees how David's face softens completely. She's about to correct herself, but she couldn't spoil the moment for him. "I don't want you to have any hopes or anything. I might disappoint you."
"You'll never disappoint me." He puts his arm around her and pulls her toward him.
It's times like these where she doesn't care that they weren't there to raise her. She just wishes she had more of these little moments with her parents where she can just talk.
"Don't tell mom about why I want to leave," she tells him and he nods.
"Can I tell her you called us mom and dad?"
When she turns to look at him, he's smiling proudly and she can't help but laugh.
"Of course."
She sees him sitting with his back towards her in one of the booths of the diner as she walks towards the door of Granny's. He seems so focused on whatever he's doing that he doesn't react to the jingling of the door opening. As she gets closer, she sees that he's not doing anything after all, simply staring at his mug of what looks like coffee on the table.
He doesn't notice her presence even when she's standing by the head of the table. It's only when she clears her throat that he looks up to her with his eyes of light blue.
He's about to stand up as if out of respect, but she stops him by sliding into the seats opposite of him. Something's on his mind – she can tell, but she can't seem to read him. He's acting exactly like how he did when he had the whole Zelena cursed my lips fiasco going on. (She cringes at the thought of that whole thing and at how badly she handled it, but it's in the past. Nothing can be done to change it.)
"Are you alright?" she goes straight out and asks.
He looks hesitant, like he's about to deny it or find a cover up, but he doesn't. "I don't know, really."
"What's wrong?" Emma's reluctant, but she feels the only way of him telling her what he's thinking of is if she reaches out to him. And she does. Physically. She extends her hand to stroke his hand that's wrapped tightly around his cup of coffee, and she feels him relax. Good.
"I don't know," he repeats, and he looks so lost. His eyes are sad and his face is tired. She doesn't know how to deal with this. "Nothing seems right. Everyone seems so familiar but I don't know anyone. Everyone's so nice but it feels off. Everything's wrong, Swan," he says distressed, pulling his hand away and running it through his hair. "Everything but you."
"What?"
"I know it has to sound crazy, but I feel like you're the only real thing here. I don't know what's happening, lass, but I feel like you're the only real thing here," he stares into her eyes, and it's too much.
She vaguely registers that the sudden warmth on her hand happens to be him reaching out to her, but she instinctively pulls away. She sees the hurt in his eyes – the same one she's seen all too many times (It's the same one she saw when she told him she couldn't trust him).
It's too much. It's too much. It's too much. And yet, it's nowhere near enough.
She blurts the first thing that comes into her mind and she's beating herself over it the moment she speaks the words.
"Who's Milah?"
He looks confused and slightly pained from her indirect rejection, but he shakes it off.
"Your tattoo," she explains, hoping that it would justify why she was staring at his left arm this morning. "I noticed it earlier."
She sees him looking some sort of relieved, and he smiles, not at all seeming fazed by her ignorance of his confession. "Truthfully, I don't know," he says lightly as he shrugs. "Embarrassingly enough, I think it happened after a drunken one night stand," he laughs.
There is a sudden anger that boils within her. Zelena made him not remember his true love. The hatred she felt for the witch from before multiples tenfold. She hates her. It's bad enough he doesn't remember his own brother, but now he's completely forgotten the woman he's tried to avenge for over three centuries.
"I wish I remembered her," he mentions and her heart pauses. "She must have been one hell of a lass if my drunken self would tattoo her name onto my body."
"I'm sure she was."
They're both quiet after that, just sitting in the silence. She feels him stare at her expectantly, but he says nothing. Her eyes are glued to her hands, fingers fiddling with one another distractedly.
When she makes a move to stand up, he follows. He looks vaguely confused and in all honesty, she doesn't know what she's doing either.
"I just remembered I forgot to do something." She's not technically lying, but she isn't really telling the truth either. She can tell he's disappointed, but he nods his head understandingly nonetheless. "I'll see you around," she says and it sounds like a promise.
"Right," is all he gets to say before she's out of the diner.
She doesn't realize where she's driving to until she reaches the place. She's at Regina's house and one part of her just really wants to slap Zelena for the shit memories she's given Killian. She rings the doorbell impatiently, and after five seconds of no one opening the door, she furiously knocks onto the white wood until she hears footsteps approaching.
When the door opens, she is met with a furious Regina – a furious Regina who is wearing nothing but a silk sheet wrapped around her
"What?" she snaps and Emma is momentarily stunned because this is not what she expected.
The anger she feels outweighs the shock of catching Regina during (post? pre?) sex and she makes a beeline past her. She hears Regina slam the door roughly followed by the quickened paces as she trails behind her.
"Do you mind telling me why you're here?"
"I need to talk to your sister."
She doesn't exactly know where she was going but she storms through Regina's house and pulls open every closed door.
"Miss Swan," Regina pulls her arm to make her face her. "You can't."
"And why not?"
Regina lets go of her arm to adjust the sheet covering her body, "Gold sent her back to Oz."
"What?" Now, she's way past furious.
"He was about to kill her," she reasoned.
"You should have told me! I need to get him back."
Regina looks like she's about to argue more, but the desperation in Emma's voice makes her think better of it. "I understand, and now both Gold and I are trying to make a memory potion for your boyfriend."
She doesn't have time for this. She storms right past her and lets herself out, slamming the door shut behind her. She knows it's not Regina's fault, but Gold's not there for her to take her anger out on. Then again, Emma had no idea what the witch had put Gold through, so shipping her off to the next land was considerably much better than killing her.
Either way though, she didn't get to give Zelena what she deserved. She feels like she's failed him.
She has failed him.
The drive back to Granny's is short, but she decides to make a pit stop by the docks. She sits on the bench and it's dark and cold, and she's alone. The cool breeze helps clear her mind, but the sight of the ocean makes her heart ache. It reminds her of him and everything he gave up for her. He'd willingly given up his home for her, even when she'd countlessly turned her back to him. She doesn't know how or why he's relentless in chasing her. After all, she hasn't shown him a sign that she actually cared for him.
She thinks about the moments at the town line right before they were to be separated by yet another curse. The memories seem fresh in her head, almost like it had just happened, while she knows that for him, it was an aching year ago. She remembers how she could feel his eyes on her as she bid her farewells to her loved ones and how she tried to walk away from him. Then, she thought it would be easier. She didn't want to- she couldn't say goodbye – not to him. She didn't think she could take the emotion in his eyes, as much as she'd forget it all just minutes after. But yet, when she heard the familiar sound of his heels on the concrete road, she turned around to face him.
She didn't know what she saw in his eyes when she looked at him – whether it was sadness, pain, anger or something scarier than that (like love) – but when he spoke, she couldn't help the pained smile that appeared upon her lips.
'That's quite the vessel you captain there, Swan.'
He joked with her, despite the situation, and she smiled.
'There's not a day that'll go by I wont think of you,' she remembers him promise and even now, her heart skips a few dozen beats because she knew- she knows it's true.
Good.
It was all she'd said back, but that was all he needed for his face to light up with absolute hope and happiness.
Good.
All it took was that one word, and he's willingly give up his ship for the slightest chance to see her.
She wishes she could talk to someone about this. Snow wouldn't understand, while David would understand too much. She had no one else she could turn to. If Killian were here, maybe she could talk to him, just to get some things clear.
And so he's here.
"I find her rather soothing at times," the accented voice says as she feels (or thinks she feels) a leather clad body settle next to her on the bench.
"It's nice."
"What's on your mind?"
What isn't on her mind? She feels herself about to break, but resists the urge to crumble.
"You," she says truthfully. This isn't really him, so she can pour her heart out without consequence. "I miss you. I want you. Where are you?"
"I'm confident you'll get me back."
He reaches out for her hand and intertwines them together. She feels him stroke the back of her hand with his thumb reassuringly, but it isn't real. It feels so right, but it's all wrong. Reluctantly, she pulls her hand away from his.
"How?"
"I wish I could tell you."
"Tell me."
"I'm afraid I can't," she hears him sigh. She knows if she looks at him, it'll hurt more, so she continues staring at the dark blue sea.
"Then why are you here?" she snaps as she stands up, but when she turns to face him, he's gone.
She leaves quickly after, for all she really wants to do is crawl into a bed and sleep.
When she comes back to an empty room, she remembers that Henry's sleeping over at his grandparents' place, and again she's reminded how alone she is. She thinks about everything that night and she swears she isn't doing it on purpose. But she has to find a way to get him to remember.
It's only when she looks to her nightstand to check the time does she see the drawing she'd found of his. She doesn't know why that helps, but she falls right to sleep afterwards.
The next three days don't go too badly. She checks on Regina and Gold and the potion daily, and they say they're close but she doesn't know if they're just trying to sugarcoat things for her. She likes to think they're too cold of people to do so, so it's probably the truth and that makes her feel better.
The days go by drama-less. She only sees him a total of five times between the three days, and on only one of the instances do they actually carry on a conversation that lasts more than two minutes. She doesn't know what's change, only that something's changed. She's scared to ask, so she doesn't.
Henry still hangs out with Killian, and according to him, he seems normal. She's more confused than ever. A few days ago, he'd admitted to her that she was the only thing real in his life, but now he's acting strangely around her. She tries not to think about it too much, so naturally, it becomes the thing she thinks about most. When he smiles in her direction, the smile doesn't reach his eyes and it doesn't make them sparkle. She misses that smile.
She also misses the lack of personal space she would have if it were Killian. She doesn't realize how much she longs for it until it's gone. She misses the sheer boldness herKillian shows, instead of the shy schoolboy behavior of this Killian (Though sometimes she does find his shyness endearing). She can't get him out of her head, and sometimes, she feels like she doesn't want to.
She knows she loves him, but God forbid anyone hear her say the words.
She's patrolling when she Ruby texts her.
I really think you should come to the diner.
Now.
It's Hook.
The moment her phone buzzes the last time, she driving off towards Granny's. Her mind races throughout the whole of the short drive. What could Ruby be talking about? She's not usually one to stress out over little things, so it had to be important – especially now that she's mentioned that Killian's involved. Emma's mind immediately jumps to two things. One: that he's leaving; and two: that his memories have miraculously returned. She hopes it's the latter.
She hopes wrongly.
When she reaches the diner, Ruby points her in the direction of his room. She takes the stairs two at a time, because the look on Ruby's face was not good. She's scared what she might find when she reaches his room, but she needs to know. Had it been Killian, she wouldn't have bothered knocking, but she doesn't know this Killian, nor does he know her. So she waits patiently, after knocking loud on the wooden door. She hears his footsteps becoming clearer through the door. It takes exactly four seconds for him to open the door after he reaches it (she assumes he looks through the peephole to see who's there beforehand).
When he opens the door, he smiles, and it's the most genuine smile she's seen from him for the first time in a while.
"Swan."
The one word brings back so many memories. She's reminded of that morning, less than a month ago, where he shows up at her door, eyes full of glee and hope before he surges forward and kisses her. Just like their kiss in Neverland, she can still feel his lips on hers. And then she vividly remembers kneeing him in the groin and slamming the door on him.
"Hey," she smiles and he opens the door wider as an invitation for her to come in. She's reluctant, but in the end takes his offer and steps into the room. She hears the click of the door shutting, before he comes from behind her to stand in front of her.
"Sorry about the mess," he scratches the back of his ear as his other arm gestures to the surroundings. Her gaze follows the directions he's pointing in, and it's only then she notices the pulled out dresser drawers and the brown duffle back in the corner of the room.
"Going somewhere?" she says in a light tone.
His smile is somewhere between pained and sorry, and she doesn't want to guess why. She's scared of his answer but she's scared of the silence too, so she looks at him insistently.
"Yeah," he replies shortly as he runs his hand through his hair in an act of nervousness. "I'm going back to Portland."
This is bad.
A/N: Thank you for the previous reviews, follows and favourites! I really do appreciate them! :)
