A/N: So. Quick update for y'all! Let's say this is in honor of a new episode later today, and of course these rumors about Jamie returning that's going to get my hopes up even though I don't want to get my hopes up. So. New chapter to distract myself. It's lengthy and some important stuff happens so...continue to let me know what you think!
Chapter Fourteen
It's in the eyes of the children
As they leave for the very first time
And it's in the heart of a soldier
As he takes a bullet on the frontline
It's in the face of a mother
As she takes the force of a blow
And its in the hands of the father yeah
As he works his fingers to the bone
...
This is why we do it
This is worth the pain
This is why we fall down
And get back up again
This is where the heart lies
This is from above
Love is this, this is love
She wakes up on the couch with her hands and feet tied together, and the first thought that floats through Emma's head is, Of course.
She's never been a trusting person. Years of being let down and left behind by others had always tilted her instincts firmly toward wariness. Better safe than sorry, and all that.
Except not today. She was too focused on getting back to Graham, too desperate and willing to accept help from a total stranger.
So of course. Of course he drugged her, tied her up, and is planning to do God knows what.
The first minute of awareness brings a lightheaded, dizzying panic where she's certain he's going to kill her. He'll kill her, and Mary Margaret and David will never know the truth, and Henry will be left with Regina thinking no one loves him, and no one will know how to find Graham and he'll be trapped with Regina forever…
Then, logic and instinct kick in, and Emma sets about getting herself free.
Jefferson is nowhere to be seen, but he left the teacup behind, and Emma manages to stomp it into shards and use it to cut the ropes.
She starts moving quietly through the hallways, listening intently for Jefferson. She knows she should be getting out of the house as fast as possible, but when she passes a telescope set agaist a window, Emma can't resist looking to see what it's aimed at.
The sheriff's station. He's been watching her.
All of Emma's nerve endings jolt to attention as it sinks in that this wasn't some random encounter in the woods. He's planned this.
She has to get out of here.
Emma passes a partially opened door and can barely see Jefferson through the crack, sharpening some long, lethal looking scissors. She hurries past, eyes darting everywhere for some sort of exit or even a window.
Suddenly there's an ominous click behind her. "Off to look for your dog?"
She whirls around. Jefferson's leaning against the doorway, a gun in his hand, smirking at her.
"I've already called for backup, they'll be here any second," Emma says immediately, her whole body tensing.
"Oh, really? What'd you call with?" Jefferson reaches into his back pocket and pulls out her phone, holding it tauntingly. After a pause, it starts to ring. "Oh, it's been doing that a lot." He takes a step closer so she can see the screen.
David Calling.
Emma stares at his name for a moment, her chest constricting painfully, and then Jefferson puts the phone back in his pocket. "You haven't called anyone. And your little…blowtorch and saw mission sounds pretty covert." He grins, triumphant. "So I'm guessing no one knows you're here."
She has no answer for that, and Jefferson finally steps close and jabs the gun in her back. "Come with me."
Emma walks stiffly forward, the gun in her back guiding her. "Why have you been spying on me?"
Jefferson stops and steps in front of her, narrowing his eyes at her. "Because for the last twenty-eight years I've been stuck in this house, every night, always the same, until you – " he jabs the gun at her for emphasis "and your little yellow bug roll into town, and the clock ticks, and things start to change."
Emma can't keep the shock from her expression.
"You see, I know what you refuse to acknowledge. You're special. You brought something precious to Storybrooke. Magic."
For a moment, she can only stares at him, struggling to comprehend. "You mean…this is about the curse?"
"Yes, the curse. The one keeping us all trapped. All except you." He grits his teeth, anger settling over his face. "The curse you refuse to acknowledge, even though it's all staring you right in the face. Even though you're the only one who can break it."
Emma ignores that, eyeing him challengingly. "If you're cursed…how do you remember? Why didn't the curse take your memories like everyone else?"
The slightest bit of surprise flashes in his eyes, but Jefferson only says cryptically, "My curse is to remember."
"Are you saying…." Emma pauses, trying to conceal the eager note in her voice. "Are you saying you know how to break it?"
Jefferson scrutinizes her for a moment, then shoots Emma a twisted smile. "Well, well. Maybe you aren't as blind as I thought." He steps uncomfortably close. "Maybe the sheriff's disappearance finally woke you up."
Emma tightens her jaw, anger gripping her, but the gun keeps her still. "Just answer the question. Do you know how to break the curse?"
"No," he says immediately, uncaring, and Emma barely suppresses the urge to slap him.
As it is, her voice is practically a snarl, "Then what do you want?"
"I want you to get it to work."
At that ambiguous pronouncement, Jefferson grabs her arm and pulls her into a room, where he forcibly shoves her into a chair. Emma glances around; the table in front of her is covered with an odd array of sewing items.
"Want me to get what to work?"
He grabs a worn, old fashioned top hat off the table and sets it in front of her. "You're the only one that can do this. You're going to get it to work. You aren't leaving until you get it to work."
Emma's quiet for a moment, picking up the hat and turning it over in her hands, thoroughly confused. "Then what?"
"Then I go home."
Emma looks up at him over her shoulder. "What does it do?"
A pained look flickers across Jefferson's face. "It used to be a portal. Between worlds. But here it doesn't work…only you can make it work."
"I…I can't make it work," she says softly. "What you're asking is impossible. I…I'm not magic."
"YOU ARE!" He's yelling now.
"No, I'm not," she says quickly. "Okay, I'm supposedly some…some savior. But I have no idea how to break the curse, even, much less make your hat-"
"Yes you do, you have to!" He starts pacing, hands tearing at his own hair, the look in his eyes desperate, almost crazed. He keeps the gun in his hand, rubbing it absently against his own skull. "I have to go back, it's the only way to go back…"
Emma's stomach is in knots, her heart thudding painfully, but she manages a calm, rational tone, "Why would you want to go back alone, anyway? If everyone else is still trapped, there's nothing there…"
Jefferson stops pacing and stares at her wildly. "Because like everyone else here, what I love has been ripped away from me. And the only way I can get it back is to be there. Look." He pulls Emma roughly to her feet and guides her to another telescope, aimed at the window of a house. Inside a little girl eats dinner with a family. "Her name is Grace. Here it's Paige, but it's Grace." Every syllable of his voice is heavy with anguish.
"She's…your daughter?"
"I remember. She has no idea who I am. Our life together, where we come from…but I do. That's my curse."
"To remember," Emma says quietly, parroting his earlier words. She sighs. "Have you…have you tried just telling her?"
He makes a scoffing sound. "And destroy her reality? I'm trapped by knowledge. You think I'd inflict that awareness on my daughter? I'm not that cruel. It's hard enough to live in a land where you don't belong, but knowing it? Holding conflicting realities in your head….it will drive you mad."
Emma's quiet, processing this man and his situation. For twenty-eight years, he's watched his child with another family. In spite of herself, she can feel a twinge of sympathy.
"So that's why you want me to make the hat work? You just want to take Grace home? To…your world?"
"It's the one world where we can be together," he says softly, sorrow etched on his face. "Or she'll never know who I am."
Emma's throat tightens, and she thinks of Henry. "Look...I know what it's like to be separated from your kid."
"Yeah. You do, don't you?"
"But…have you really thought about this?"
"Of course I have."
Emma meets his eyes, arching an eyebrow. "Have you? If you go back through the hat, and the curse hasn't broken…how do you know it'll restore Grace's memories?"
His face falls. "It…it has to…"
"And how do you know there's anything left? If she cursed your world, how do you know it's still intact?"
"I…" There's panic descending on Jefferson's features now.
"I wasn't lying, Jefferson," Emma tells him earnestly. "I don't think…I haven't seen any evidence that I have magic. But…" she hesitates. She can use this; maybe if she helps him, he can help her with Graham. "I know a place where magic still exists in Storybrooke. The hat might work there but…you're still risking a lot."
Jefferson is pacing again, his expression utterly conflicted. I
After a moment's silence, Emma says firmly, "Or. You could wait." He whips his head up, looking at her like she's insane, but she continues, "I am going to do everything I can to break this curse." She's surprised by the strength of her conviction. In spite of her talk with August, everything he told her…this is the first time Emma's really thought of the curse outside of herself, her parents, Henry, and Graham.
August with his skin slowly turning to wood. Jefferson and his separation from his daughter.
How many other stories are there? People who've been dealt tragedies and just aren't aware of it?
Jefferson seems to be deliberating. After a long silence, he visibly wilts, and sinks into his chair. "You're right," he mutters, tone utterly defeated. "You're right there's…there's no reason to assume she'll get her memories back just from being there. The curse will still exist, it's still on us." After a moment, Jefferson lifts his head, eyes hopeful. "Maybe if we took her to the place with the magic-"
"She can't," Emma informs him, voice apologetic. "No one can see it if they don't believe."
"Damn it." Jefferson's head drops. Another silence settles, then, he grits out quietly, "I'm sorry. About the gun, and the drugging…"
"Yeah. Well." Emma shrugs, not interested in forgiving him for that. Then, she softens, admitting, "I know how you feel. About wanting Grace to remember." He looks up at her, expectant. "My parents. They have no idea who I am."
"Right." He studies her, then seems to make a decision, putting the gun down on the table and standing up. "So. You have no leads on how to break the curse? Your boy, his book doesn't-"
"No, it doesn't say anything."
"You should talk to Rumplestiltskin. I guarantee he's the one who made the curse and sold it to Regina."
"Who's that?" Emma makes a face, correcting herself, "I mean, who is he here?"
"No idea." Jefferson smiles grimly. "I don't get out much."
"Right." Emma pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Listen. I need a favor. To make up for the gun and the drugging and everything."
"What?"
There's another beat of hesitation, and then Emma opts for blunt honesty. "Regina has Graham. And I won't even try to break the curse as long as that's the case. I won't let her use him against me, I'm not risking his life. So before I do anything, I need to make sure he's safe."
"So what do you need from me?"
"Any chance you actually have that saw and blowtorch?"
~(OUAT)~
Twenty minutes later, the squad car is loaded down with equipment, and Emma has her phone back, now with six missed calls from David and four from Mary Margaret.
She texts them back to say that she's fine, and David quickly responds to assure her that he's still watching Regina. The sun is up by now, and Emma responds with profuse apologies, telling him she won't be much longer.
Emma's arms are full of scary looking equipment when she gets to the cemetery, and it takes her longer to get it transferred into the mausoleum and push the coffin aside to the newly revealed stairs.
Her whole body goes weak relief when she sees Graham again, as if a part of her was worried she'd imagined the whole thing.
His face collapses with relief when she appears at the base of the stairs. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, sorry it took so long. Got held up finding all this." She puts her supplies on the ground and waves a hand at it.
"Where'd you get it?"
"Long story. I'll fill you in once I get you out of here." She kisses him gently through the bars, touching his face and smiling. "Which will be soon. One of these has to work."
She can see the worry in his eyes, but he smiles back at her. "Thank you."
Emma nods, then steps back, rubbing her hands together in a business like manner. "Okay." She lifts up an electrical saw, and slaps on the plastic goggles Jefferson had given her. "You might want to stand back, and turn around."
Graham can't help but grin at the bossy tone. "Yes, ma'am." He moves to the far corner of the cell and faces the wall, like a kid in time out.
Drawing a deep breath, Emma turns on the saw. It roars to life, and she presses the blade against the steel bars, the high pitched whir of metal on metal overwhelming the tiny room. After a second, she pulls the saw away from the bar so she can look at it.
There's not a scratch. No evidence that it was even touched.
Gritting her teeth, Emma turns up the power and shoves the spinning blade harder against the bars, pressing as hard as she can. She holds it there for a good two minutes, well aware that nothing seems to be changing under the pressure.
When she moves it again, her heart sinks. Still not so much as a scratch, much less a dent.
Graham turns around then, a sort of resigned disappointment on his face. He shouts above the noise, "Em, it's okay…"
She turns off the saw and tosses it unceremoniously to the ground, swallowing her frustration. "I'll try the blowtorch," she says calmly.
"Em, if it's been protected by magic-"
"No," she cuts him off sharply. "No, something will work, the saw must've been too dull…"
She grabs the plastic handle of the blowtorch, holding it tightly so her hand doesn't shake. Graham nods and obediently returns to the corner, tough this time he doesn't turn around, just leans against the wall and watches her.
Emma presses down on the switch and the small blue flame shoots out of the front. She holds it against the steel, choosing a different bar as if that might make all the difference.
She holds it there for two minutes. Three. Five. There's no change on the metal, and Emma's knuckles get progressively whiter as she grips the handle. She impulsively lifts the flame away and touches a finger quickly to the metal bar.
It's cool to the touch.
Emma lets out a strangled, frustrated yell and hurls the blowtorch against the far wall, and in the next second she's slamming her fists against the jail bars, screaming, "Come on come on COME ON!"
"Em, Emma…hey, it's okay…Em…" Graham reaches through the bars and grabs her by the wrists. When she stops fighting him and collapses against the bars, half gasping, half sobbing, he lets go and gently wraps his arms around her the best he can. "It'll be okay…."
"I'm sorry." Her voice is shaking. "I'm so sorry, Graham…"
"Don't be." He kisses the top of her head. "We'll figure something out, okay?
She lets a hollow laugh. "How am I supposed to figure out how to break a fucking curse when I can't even break a fucking jail cell?"
Graham doesn't say anything for a moment, just grazes her cheekbone with his thumb, knowing there's nothing he can say to make her feel okay about not being able to help him.
Finally, when Emma lifts her eyes, full of apology, to meet his, he says simply, "You're here. That's enough for right now."
"But-"
"It is," he insists. "We'll figure it out. We knew this might happen, and in no way is it your fault."
Emma closes her eyes. She is so tired, and she should be going to work, but what is she supposed to do? Just walk away and leave him here, with no reassurance that she'll be able to get him out?
Graham seems to read her thoughts. "Em, you should sleep."
She shakes her head. "I'm fine."
He sighs skeptically, but doesn't push it. Instead, he says, "Well then you should go find Mary Margaret and David. Help them remember." He pauses and, when she doesn't reply, adds, "They may be able to help. They knew a lot more about this stuff than me."
She looks up at him, curiously. "They aren't, um…magic, are they?"
He laughs a little. "No. Most people aren't."
This reminds her of something Jefferson said. "Did you know Rumplestiltskin, before? Any idea who he might be here?"
Graham frowns. "No, I never saw him. Heard of him, though. Not sure you want to trust him, though, based on reputation. Why?"
"It's been suggested that he might be the one who created the curse for Regina."
"Not a bad thought. I don't really know much about how the curse was enacted…if I wasn't out working on her guard, Regina usually kept me locked in one of the bedchambers." Emma winces, and Graham drops his eyes, flushing. "I'm sorry, I'm not much help."
Hatred burns in Emma's chest: Regina had Graham completely under her control, had stolen his whole life, and he's apologizing like he did something wrong. "That is not your fault," she tells him fiercely. "It's all her."
Graham takes her hand and squeezes his, gratitude shining in his eyes. Then he says, "You can go, Em. Really. Help your parents."
Reluctantly, Emma nods. "I'll be back with them. Soon." She pauses. "And Henry. God, he'll be glad to see you."
Graham's smile is automatic. "I want to see him, too."
"Okay." Her eyes land on the plate of food that's been shoved under the bars: a few stale pieces of bread and half of an apple. Emma's eyes flash, her rage flaring fresh. "And I'll bring you something decent to eat."
He smiles. "Thanks."
She stops halfway up the stairs. "Graham?"
"Yeah?"
Turning to face him, Emma asks in a small voice, "What if it doesn't work? What if…they don't remember?"
"They will." His whole face softens. "I did."
~(OUAT)~
Emma calls David and lets him off the hook watching Regina, and she tells him to go get some sleep. She has two calls back to back almost as soon as she gets back to the station – a possible break in (that is more likely just a door left open) and a car hitting a mailbox – which kills a few hours before Mary Margaret and Henry get out of school.
She's waiting for Henry outside the school at the usual time. His grin seems wider than usual when he runs over to her, and right away he asks, "Did you figure anything out in the book."
"Kinda," she says with a smile. Emma crouches down so she's level with him. "I found Graham."
Henry gasps, his eyes widening, "You did?"
"Yeah, he's okay." Then, she repeats, to herself, "He's okay."
Henry hugs her, nearly knocking Emma off balance on the sidewalk. "I knew it! I knew you'd save him. Just like he saved you at the hospital, and before that you saved him at my house, and before that he saved Snow, which is practically like saving you-"
"Well I haven't saved him. Not yet."
As they walk home, she tells Henry about finding Graham in the cell where there's magic, that she hasn't been able to get him out. "But I will," she tells him resolutely. "I promise."
"I know," Henry says, unworried. "All spells can be broken. And you're the savior."
Emma smiles a little, pulling him to a sideways hug as they walk.
After a bit of companionable silence, Henry glances around, seeing that they've passed the station. "Are we going to see Graham?"
"Not yet. We're going to go meet Mary Margaret at the apartment." Emma's chest is fluttering with nerves. "There's something I wanna try, to maybe get her to remember."
"Really?"
"Don't get your hopes up," Emma tells him with a thin smile. "It was Graham's idea."
"Okay. Then can we go see him?"
"Of course. I told him I'd bring you."
Henry grins. "Can we bring Prince, too?"
Emma smirks. "Sure. If he believes in magic, I guess."
"He does. He's Prince Charming, remember?"
She thinks of David, and how soon he may remember he's Prince Charming, and Emma's chest tightens again. "He is."
~(OUAT)~
Since they walked the long way from the school, Mary Margaret's already at the apartment when Emma and Henry get there.
Her shoulders drop in obvious relief as soon as she sees Emma. "Hey."
Suddenly shy, Emma nearly whispers, "Hi."
Mary Margaret smiles at Henry, mock surprised. "Henry, I haven't seen you in so long!"
"I know, it's been almost twenty minutes," he replies. He looks up at Emma, then, expectantly.
"Um, Henry, you want to take Prince to play in my room? I need to talk to Mary Margaret."
"Sure." Smiling, he scoops the cat up from his place on the couch, mouthing, "Good luck" at Emma before he closes her bedroom door behind him.
Immediately, Mary Margaret's eyes settle on Emma. "Everything go okay?"
"Yeah, it did."
"Good." To Emma's surprise, Mary Margaret comes forward and hugs her. "And you're okay? I was worried."
"I know, I'm sorry." Emma's replies, her voice high and tight. She should just do it now, but she feels paralyzed. "And I'm good."
Mary Margaret holds on for a long moment, then pulls back to look at Emma. "Sure?"
"Positive." Mary Margaret smiles, then starts to step away, but Emma stops her, a catch in her voice, "Um, Mare?"
"Yeah?"
"Just…I wanted to thank you again. For everything you've done since Graham disappeared. And after I got shot. Really just since I met you, you've been…you've been amazing."
"Emma…you don't have to thank me. That's just what friends do."
"Yeah, see that's the thing though, I never really…" Emma takes a shaky breath. "I wouldn't know that. Most of my life, I've been alone. No one had ever been there for me before you, and I just…it's really nice to feel like I have some sort of family."
Mary Margaret's blinking rapidly, her eyes sparkling with tears as she smiles. "Family?"
Her voice is barely steady now, so Emma just rushes out, "Yeah, so I just wanted to say thanks."
She pulls Mary Margaret in for another hug, and as she does, she kisses her mother softly on the cheek.
It's just like with Graham; Mary Margaret's eyes widen, and she jerks back from the hug as if electrocuted. For a second, there's a dazed expression on her face, and then, an agonizing moment later, she seems to snap back, eyes huge and chest heaving.
"Oh my God..." She lifts her eyes and they settle on Emma's terrified expression.
And Mary Margaret's whole face melts into an expression of tenderness and joy that nearly does Emma in.
Without a word, Mary Margaret wraps her arms around her daughter, tears streaming steadily down her cheeks. Her voice is thick with tears when she says reverently, "You found us."
Emma squeezes her eyes shut, hugging Mary Margaret back just as fiercely. Tears clog her throat, and she couldn't speak even if she knew what to say.
Mary Margaret pulls back slightly, staring at Emma like she's trying to memorize her face. "Oh, honey…oh, it's you…." She touches Emma's face, her hair, her hands, just verifying that she's real. Then, "You know?"
Emma nods silently, and Mary Margaret hugs her again. Her heart feels like it's too big for her chest. It's like she blinked and her baby girl grew up.
Without her.
The door to Emma's bedroom cracks open, and Henry tentatively emerges. He meets his teacher's eye over Emma's shoulder. "Grandma?"
The absurdity of the title makes her laugh, and Mary Margaret steps back, keeping one arm around Emma. "Yeah, I guess so."
Henry runs and hugs them both at the same time, and they stay like that until he pulls back and says, "Now let's go get Grandpa."
"Oh, God, Charming…" Mary Margaret's face breaks into a luminous smile. She looks at Emma. "Your….your dad, we should-"
"I know," Emma says shakily. "He's next on my list."
Mary Margaret sighs, reaching up and cupping Emma's face, still staring at her in something akin to awe. "Oh, sweetheart, I…I don't even know what to say." Her eyes fill up again, a thousand comments Emma's made over the time they've known each other rushing back to her. "I'm so, so sorry."
Emma ducks her head, tears finally spilling over. She brushes at them impatiently.
Because there is a part of Emma that wondered: what if they hadn't sent her away? If her parents had been willing to forget about her being the savior, forgot about breaking the curse, and just kept her with them, no matter what was coming.
But she thinks of Jefferson, separated from his daughter. Of August, whose father sent him away to protect him even though he'd have nothing to do with breaking the curse. Of what August had told her, that Mary Margaret and David – Snow and James – were going to split up so one of them could go with her, but it was too late.
And so Emma means it when she says, "No, don't be." She glances down at Henry and gently touches the top of her son's head before looking back at Mary Margaret. "You wanted to give me my best chance."
~(OUAT)~
David opens the door to his apartment and is pleasantly surprised to see all three of them standing. "Well, hi-" He's barely gotten to syllable out when Mary Margaret hugs him hard. "Whoa, hi." He pulls away after a moment, eyebrows knit in confusion. "Everything okay?" Then, he frowns, "Have you been crying?"
She waves a dismissive hand. "Everything's great." Her eyes are sparkling, and she's looking at him like she hasn't seen him in years.
Emma watches them, Henry grinning beside her. She's got that same fluttering of nerves again, and she can't take her eyes off David's face.
Mary Margaret finally relinquishes her hold on him, and the four of them go inside David's small apartment. He's barely unpacked, due to spending almost all his nights since his divorce at Mary Margaret and Emma's pace instead of here.
"You guys sure everything's okay?"
"We're all good." Mary Margaret puts a hand on Emma's back, gently edging her forward. "Emma wanted to talk to you."
David smiles warmly at her. "Sure. Everything go okay last night?"
She nods mutely, already on the brink of tears again. Finally, she says in a strangled voice, "Um, yeah. Sorry to make you do that. Two nights in a row, God…"
"Hey, I told you it's no problem. Just hope it helped."
"It did." Emma goes quiet again, aware of all their eyes on her. Too self-conscious and emotionally raw for a speech, she finally just blurts out, "That's um…really great of you…"
The concern in his eyes is growing. "Emma-"
"Thanks," she whispers, and then she's leaning toward him, a hand on her shoulder as her lips brush his cheek.
David reels back, eyes huge. It doesn't take as long for him, and then he snaps back into himself. His eyes soften and he stares at Emma like he can't believe what he's seeing.
"Emma?" It sounds like no one has ever said her name before, like he's the first person in the world to ever utter it.
He glances at Mary Margaret as though looking for confirmation. She's crying again, smiling through her tears and she nods at her husband. "She found us."
David moves in slow, almost dazed motion toward Emma, and then he wraps his arms around her without saying a word. After a moment, Mary Margaret joins them, and Emma thinks she feels Henry's hand somewhere on her back, and for a second she feels like her heart might burst with the added volume of family.
~(OUAT)~
David and Mary Margaret are staring.
Emma's spent the last half hour sitting in David's minimally furnished living room, filling them in on everything: how long Graham's known, what August told her, finding Graham, Jefferson, everything. And they just stare.
Which makes sense, since she's basically delivering a monologue. But sometimes the staring isn't 'listening intently' staring, but a sort of faraway, dreamy stare that makes her want to ask if they're listening.
But when she finishes, David nods immediately and says, "So our next step is to get Graham out."
"Yeah. And I don't know how, nothing I tried worked on it-"
Mary Margaret and David exchange a look. "Gold," she says immediately, and he nods.
"Who's Gold? I mean, who was he...there?"
Henry, who's been playing with Prince on the floor, looks up in interest, "Yeah, who is he? I could never figure it out."
"Rumplestiltskin."
Henry groans, long and dramatic. "Oh, man, I should've known that."
Emma raises her eyebrows. "Jefferson suggested I ask him about breaking the curse. Said he may have been the on to create it."
Mary Margaret and David look at each other again. "That wouldn't surprise me at all."
"Will he help us?" Emma asks skeptically.
David answers this time, "He doesn't usually discriminate who he helps…but there's always a price."
"And if he did create the curse for Regina he had a specific reason for doing it," Mary Margaret puts in knowingly. "And for making sure there was a savior."
Emma shakes her head a little, disconcerted by how she can already sense subtle shifts in their personalities.
David claps his hands together. "Alright. Let's go see Gold."
Emma shakes her head. "I've left Graham for too long. I promised to bring him some real food, and I want to make sure he's okay."
"And I want to see him," Henry reminds her.
"We'll all go." Mary Margaret stands, too. "One of us can stand guard in the cemetery for Regina…if she comes by, she won't go in if we're there."
Emma nods. "Just don't let on that you remember."
"Of course."
~(OUAT)~
They stop by the diner to pick up food for Graham, and Mary Margaret has to resist the urge to circle the counter and hug Ruby. As it is, she and David are smiling so wide the waitress is definitely a little weirded out by the time she gives them the order.
When they reach the mausoleum at the cemetery, Emma looks back at all of them when she shoves the coffin aside. "You see these stairs, right?" They all nod, and Emma's oddly relieved.
"You guys go ahead," David says. "I'll hang around outside."
"Me, too," Mary Margaret puts in immediately.
"Thanks," Emma says, realizing they probably want some alone time to talk. "C'mon, kid."
Henry, Prince in his arms, bounds down the stairs eagerly, and Emma follows him.
David slips his hand into Mary Margaret's, and the two of them walk outside of the mausoleum. As soon as they're outside, she nearly collapses against him. "Charming…" Her voice, murmuring the old, old nickname is muffled against his shirt, and his whole body goes weak with relief.
"Snow." He kisses the top of her head and tightens his grip on her, the hug as tight as possible. "God, I missed you. Without even knowing it, I missed you."
She doesn't reply, and they hold on for a long time until he feels her shaking, a wetness soaking through to his skin. "Snow?" She looks up, tears dripping down her cheeks as she chokes back sobs. "What's wrong?"
"Emma…"
His face twists. "I know."
"David, some of what she's said to me…damn it, it just breaks my heart."
He closes his eyes, expression pained. "We had no idea what we were sending her back to…we'd planned on you going with her, and there wasn't time to think. And now…"
Mary Margaret nods, picking up his train of thought. "Foster homes. Charming, our baby girl she…she grew up with no one…" She draws a shuddering breath. "You've seen her, it's like she can't even comprehend the fact that people care about her. We did that, we sent her away…"
"We didn't have a choice," he says thickly, like he's trying to convince himself. "They were going to kill her." He remembers the clash of swords, a dozen men coming at him at once, all after the precious newborn in his arms.
"I know. I do know that but…God, what did we think we were doing? She was less than an hour one, what did we think sending a baby away-"
"Snow…"
"I know we didn't have a choice. I know it was better for her, that if she'd been cursed she'd have been stuck forever as a newborn, and I doubt she'd even be with me, and you would've never woken up from that coma but damn it , James, it isn't fair." Her face crumples, and she falls apart completely as she gets out the words, "Why her? Why our daughter, why is she the one who has to do this?"
David pulls his wife against her, tears running unchecked down his own face. "I don't know," he murmurs, voice cracking. "I don't know."
~(OUAT)~
"Graham!"
Henry runs at the cell and pulls up short as he reaches the bar, as though he'd failed to plan out what to do when he got there.
Graham smiles warmly, sticking his arm out of the bar and giving Henry a complicated sideways hug. "Hey, buddy." Emma's heart catches to hear the familiar greeting he saves for her son.
"I'm really glad you're okay." Prince is practically clawing on Henry's shirt trying to get to Graham, and the boy relinquishes the cat. Graham's eyes light up as the cat walks easily through the bars and looks up at Graham, begging to be picked up. He obliges.
"So am I." The cat starts purring immediately, and Graham lifts his eyes to meet Emma's, and he squeezes her hand in greeting. "Hey, you."
"Sorry it took so long." She passes him the bag. "We'll take the trash when you're done, don't worry." She pauses, then says quietly, "Mary Margaret and Daivd are outside, keeping an eye out for Regina."
Graham looks up from perusing the contents of his dinner and meets her eyes. "It worked?"
"Yeah."
"Are you okay?"
"I think so." She smiles, feeling bone weary from the emotional highs and lows of the day. "It's a good thing."
"It is," he agrees. Graham sits then, and Henry does the same as Graham turns his attention to the boy. "So, bud, looks like part one of Operation Cobra was a success, huh?"
As Henry begins enthusiastically filling Graham in on Emma getting his grandparents to remember, Emma watches the two of them.
They'll go see Gold after this. But she's starting to worry, that maybe he'll know how to break the curse but won't know, or care, about getting Graham out.
Her chest tightens painfully, and Emma thinks about Jefferson's hat. It could work here. It could pass through the bars of Graham's cell, as easily as a cat or a bag of food.
If it comes down to it, if she can't get Graham out to her…she at least has to get him away from Regina. She meant what she said the Jefferson: she doesn't even want to think about breaking the curse until she's sure Graham's somewhere Regina can't hurt him.
And if keeping him safe means she has to let him go for awhile…then that's what she'll do.
~(OUAT)~
A/N: Let me know what you think! The next two chapters are the ones I've been dying to write since the beginning of this story, so motivate me to do it fast!