Chapter 25
A/N: As always thank you to JustMe-Liz, bloodymary2, PrincessMiss, Michebellaxo, grace de gold, ShotGunGirl2015, Miss Poisonous, evilwoolgrill, 0netflixme0, Carolane, Guest, BrujaBlanca88, EvilRegal18, kika210, EvilRegal and Addicted1 for your reviews! So sorry about the delay guys.
"It's noon. I brought coffee. C'mon get up."
Emma let out a sleepy grumble as the bed dipped slightly, green eyes cracking open wide enough to make out a figure seated on the edge of the bed beside her. A moment later, a blinding, pounding headache made itself known across her forehead and she closed her eyes again swiftly, wincing.
"Come on Emma," the intruder coerced her, shaking her arm mercilessly.
"Ugh," Emma groaned again, then swallowed in disgust at the taste in her mouth. What on earth had happened to her? She rolled onto her side, her stomach heaving warningly with the motion.
"Coffee," the voice repeated. "Here, take it. It'll do you some good."
Tentatively, she tried opening her eyes again, grateful that the room was in semi-darkness, the light from the windows caught behind thick blue curtains.
Wait a second…
Mary-Margaret's flat had white curtains. Annoying, useless things that seemed to enhance the invading light rather than divert it. Where the hell was she?
"Ruby?" she asked, her fuzzy brain finally managing to give a name to the voice that had been antagonizing her. She opened her eyes fully, finally taking in the brunette beside her, a takeaway cup of coffee in her hand. She blinked in confusion, her gaze flickering past the young girl and to what she immediately recognized as one of the rooms at Granny's inn. She had stayed in this room before, when she'd first come to Storybrooke.
"What… what am I doing here?" she mumbled, reaching automatically for the coffee. She took a small sip as she sat up in bed, the taste helping to wash away the sour, alcoholic bitterness that had been coating her tongue. "Ugh…" she groaned, a hand lifting to press against her head. She'd almost forgotten what a hangover felt like.
"You and the pirate showed up here at around three this morning, both drunk off your asses and demanding I make you pancakes," Red told her, smirking as Emma slumped against the headboard in disbelief.
"I got drunk with Hook?" She vaguely remembered something of the sort, now that she thought about it. He'd offered her a swig of rum once they reached his ship and things had steadily gone downward from there on. "What else did I do?"
Red's smile widened slightly. "Nothing much, thanks to me. I sent Hook home with a bagel and sent you upstairs to bed."
Emma closed her eyes briefly, relief washing over her. "Thank you," she breathed, opening her eyes again and staring across at Red gratefully. "I mean it. Thank you."
Red chuckled quietly, nodding her head. "Somehow I figured you'd rather wake up here than in Killian's bed."
"You figured right," Emma said, taking another large gulp of her coffee and nodding her head vigorously. "I owe you."
"Yea, well, I'm here to collect. You need to get your hung-over-self home. Your mother needs you."
"Mary-Margaret? Why?" Emma sat up straighter, staring at the brunette in concern. "What happened?"
Red sighed. "I'll put it to you this way… You're not the only Charming currently staying at Granny's."
"David…" Emma mused, putting the pieces together instantly. "Oh God… He's leaving her, isn't he?"
She hadn't been oblivious to how strained things between them had suddenly become, but she'd figured it was just a phase, something they'd work through with time. They were each other's true loves for heaven's sake! This wasn't supposed to happen.
"I don't…" Red shook her head, raking her hand back through the messy dark strands uneasily. "I don't know. When he came over here asking for a room, I went straight away to go see Snow. She said that they're 'working through stuff' and she then she kept asking where you were so I'm assuming that if she's going to spill her guts to anyone it'll be you," Red concluded, a tad grudgingly.
"She won't," Emma said immediately. Before the curse had broken, Mary-Margaret would have told her everything. But Snow didn't want to be her friend as much as she wanted to be her mother. She wanted Emma home so that she could put a sugar coating on this mess before anyone else had the chance to fill her in on the ugly reality that her parents were splitting up. Emma pressed a hand against her forehead, her thoughts whirling.
"This is a nightmare," she whispered.
"They've had their up and downs in the past, but they've always come together again," Red said, reassuringly.
"Has David ever left before?" Emma mumbled behind her coffee cup.
"No…" Red whispered reluctantly. "No. That's new." She moved forward, elbowing Emma to move to the side. She slumped back against the headboard, looking miserable. "Has the world turned upside down or what?"
"Are you kidding me?" Emma glanced over at her. "I'm talking to a werewolf."
Red laughed softly, and Emma felt her lips curl into a small smile in response.
"Talk to her," Red encouraged. "I know this is hard on you Em, but…"
"She needs me," Emma nodded. She raked her hand back through her blonde hair, sighing heavily. "I get it." She wriggled forward and clambered off the bed, feeling her stomach churning warningly as she did. She groaned again. "I need pizza."
"You can come back here for some after you've spoken to Snow," Red offered, sitting forward. "I mean, if you need someone to talk to Emma…"
"Thanks Red," Emma said, smiling at her gratefully. "I could really use that."
…
The door creaked as she pushed it open, the sound oddly loud in the eerie stillness that had settled upon the apartment. Emma stepped inside, green eyes flickering about in surprise. She had fully expected to find the place a wreck, with a hysterical Snow in the middle of it all. Instead, the flat seemed cleaner than she could ever recall it being before. She closed the door behind her, wrinkling her nose at the floral smell of floor cleaner that seemed to permeate the air around her.
"Snow?" she called, dropping her jacket onto the sofa as she walked past the living room.
"In here," a voice called back cheerily. She wandered into Snow's bedroom, brows arching in surprise as she did. Her mother was standing amidst a mountain of chaos, clothes scattered over the bed, the floor and the dresser.
"Are you sorting out you cupboard?" Emma asked in surprise.
"Mmhmm," Snow hummed. "It was overdue. I swear I didn't even know I owned half the clothes that are in here."
"This is cute," Emma said absently, plucking up a green sweater as she sat down upon the edge of the bed. She fiddled nervously with one of the pearlescent buttons, staring at Snow's back as she slid a pile of folded jeans back into her reorganised closet. "Snow… Do you want to talk to me? You know… about David?"
Snow went still, her back stiffening slightly. "David?" she echoed quietly. She turned slowly, realisation flooding her features. "Red told you."
"Yea," Emma nodded. "Um... Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said quickly – too quickly. "This… this is nothing. We're just taking some space, working through things, nothing to worry about."
"Working through what?" Emma asked, her nose wrinkling slightly. "What did he say to you exactly?"
"It's nothing to worry about," Snow repeated, her hands twisting together as she spoke. "He was right… after everything we've been through recently, we just… we need some space to come to grips with who we are. We've both changed since the Enchanted Forest, what with the curse and…"
"Is that what he said to you?" Emma demanded. "That's bullshit. Come on, there has to be a reason. He wouldn't leave without a real reason…"
"He isn't leaving," Snow interrupted hotly. "He isn't leaving," she repeated, softer this time. "It's just a break."
"No, no its not," Emma said adamantly. "He wouldn't just leave you… Not like this. I mean, he knows that you're having issues right now and…"
"Issues?" Snow echoed, shaking her head slightly.
"With your magic, I mean," she said, waving her hand lightly in her mother's direction.
"I'm not," Snow said quickly, shaking her head. "I'm fine, Emma. I can control it. It's not an issue. Where's Henry?" she added, diverting the conversation.
"He's…" Emma sighed heavily. "He's with Regina."
"You left him with Regina?" Snow asked, her eyes going wide. "Emma why?"
"Because it's what he wanted," Emma said, exasperated. "What was I supposed to do, drag him back here, kicking and screaming?"
"If that's what it took," Snow nodded. "God only knows what Regina is filling his head with now that she has him back. She's probably twisting all of this to her advantage."
"No…" Emma shook her head slowly. "I spoke to her last night. She didn't seem happy about this at all. She just seemed… tired." Her brow furrowed as she said the word, an image of the pale, exhausted brunette she had spoken to the night before rising to her mind. She should have stayed, she thought, suddenly worried again. Something obviously hadn't been right.
You have your own issues Emma, she reminded herself. Regina can take care of herself.
"She'll do what's best for Henry," Emma said. "She knows better than to try and manipulate him against me again."
"We need to talk to him," Snow said. "He needs to hear this from us, not her."
"Not right now," Emma said firmly. "I think right now, he just needs a little space. And we could use the time to figure things out. We need to talk to David. There has to be a reason why he left."
"He hasn't left…" Snow began, frustrated.
"I'm going to talk to him," Emma said decisively, cutting across her. She stood up, tossing the jersey she held back onto the pile in the middle of the bed. "I'm going to sort this out."
"You are?" Snow suddenly looked hopeful, her eyes wide. "What are you going to say to him?"
"I'm going to find out what's going through his head. You're his true love Snow. He wouldn't leave you without a reason. I'm going to find out what that reason is."
…
The Rabbit Hole was dark within, a welcome relief from the bright afternoon sunlight that had shone brightly down upon him outside. Killian closed the door to the bar behind him, blinking several times to accustom his eyes to the gloom. The place was near deserted, only a few patrons scattered between the bar and the pool tables, which he supposed was only to be expected at 2 o'clock in the afternoon.
"Bit early isn't it, pirate?" the barkeeper called to him.
Killian nodded wearily, sinking down upon a barstool opposite him. "Got anything for a hangover?"
The older man grinned, nodding his head. "Got just the thing. Real secret recipe. Me gran passed it down to me," he told him, reaching beneath the bar for the ingredients he needed. Killian watched with mild interest as he began adding several items into a glass blender. Not for the first time that morning, he found himself wondering where Emma was and how she was faring. He knew that he had started off his evening with the blonde, and that both of them had gotten drunk together on his ship… but for the life of him he couldn't remember what had happened after. The night before was a blur to him.
"Here, try this."
A tall glass of some sort of dark brown liquid was pushed in front of him. Killian nodded in thanks, lifting it up to take a sip.
"You get that down you," the barkeeper told him, nodding wisely. "Make sure you drink all of it."
"Will do," Hook muttered, taking another sip and grimacing at the taste. He'd drunk fouler stuff before though, he consoled himself.
The door to the bar opened again, shards of sunlight spilling into the gloom, turning floating specks of dust to gold in the light. A small figure stepped inside, the light outside casting a shadow across her face until she closed the door again and Killian suddenly recognized the young woman walking over to the bar.
"Belle?" he said, surprised. Her eyes flicked over him briefly, her expression darkening slightly, before she turned her body slightly away, ignoring him completely.
"Can I get a drink?" she called, tapping two fingers against the wooden bar.
"Haven't seen you in a while Lacy," the bartender greeted her, pouring her a drink and passing it across to her. She drained it in a single gulp, pushing the glass back to him in a silent request for a second. Hook watched, stunned, as she drained the second glass in no more time that the first.
"Do you want to slow down there, lass?" he asked, staring at the barkeeper incredulously as he refilled her glass yet again.
"Mind your own business, pirate," Belle snapped back, this time picking up her glass and carrying it with her back in the direction of the pool tables.
Shaking his head slightly, Killian turned back to his drink. It shouldn't bother him. How she dealt with her grief wasn't his concern. If she wanted to get drunk in the middle of the day, so be it. He didn't care. He took a long sip of his drink, swirling the thick liquid around his tongue. The taste was starting to grow on him. By the time he'd ordered another, he was almost convinced he was enjoying the stuff. Several more patrons had slowly filtered into the bar as the afternoon hours whiled away, and by the time Hook paid his bill and stood to leave, three other men had joined Belle playing pool. He frowned, his thoughts flickering back to his night with Emma. Gods, he hoped he hadn't tried anything with her. He hated the thought that he might have taken advantage of her in some way.
I need to find her, he decided, making his way out of the bar. Perhaps her memories from the night before would be less hazy than his were. He stepped out onto the street, the fresh air outside a stark contrast to the smoky scent inside the bar. The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows in front of the buildings. Hook folded his arms against the chill in the air, heading in the direction of Granny's diner. There were only a few places he knew of that Emma might be; the diner, the sheriff's office or Snow White's apartment. Perhaps he needed to get one of the awful cell phone things that the rest of the townsfolk carried around, they seemed useful for keeping track of people. He couldn't help but feel jealous of the people who lived in this town, each of them so comfortable within this strange new world, each of them confident of their place within it. They had families and jobs and houses, and settled boring lives that suddenly seemed so much better than the empty, lonely existence he had found himself in. Sighing, he crossed the road, pushing open the door into the diner.
"What do you want?" Red crossed his path as he stepped inside, a tray of dishes balanced in her hands.
"Coffee, and a slice of apple pie if you have it," Killian responded, stepping nimbly around her.
"That's not… I wasn't asking for your order!" Red snapped after him angrily. He ignored her, making his way to a booth near the back where a familiar blonde was seated.
"Hello princess," he greeted her, sliding onto the red chair opposite hers.
"Hey," she sighed, her eyes not lifting from the plate of fries in front of her.
He swallowed, suddenly nervous. He'd expected a somewhat different response from her – her indifference was unsettling.
"What's the matter?" he asked, stealing a fry off of her plate. She swatted his hand automatically.
"Get your own."
"Emma…"
She lifted her eyes to his tiredly. "What?"
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong? Is it…" he hesitated. "Did something happen last night... Because I swear I didn't mean…"
To his utter surprise, she suddenly smiled at him. "You don't remember anything about last night do you?" she asked, a light of mischief in those green eyes. She paused long enough for him to shake his head cautiously. "Nothing happened. I spent the night here and you went home. Neither of us despoiled or dishonoured," she added in a teasing whisper, and he found himself laughing quietly, relieved.
"So then what's wrong?" he pushed, watching as the amusement faded from her features once more. She pushed her hand back through her hair uneasily. "Come on, who else do you have to talk to in this place? We're friends aren't we? Talk to me."
She nodded slowly, picking up a French fry without much interest. "It's David. He left Snow."
Killian blinked, sucking in a slow breath. "That's… wow." He should have known this was coming. The moment he'd witnessed between Regina and David on the ship in Neverland hadn't been nothing. But he hadn't expected David to ever act upon it. He hadn't expected the prince to upheave his entire world in the pursuit of his own happiness. He didn't blame him for it though. There had been a time when he had persuaded Milah to do the exact same thing, after all.
"I know," Emma muttered. "I mean what the hell? They're each other's true loves. Doesn't that mean something? I just don't understand why he would do this to her. He knows what she's going through. It doesn't make sense."
"Have you talked to him?" Killian asked, pushing aside the faint flicker of guilt at the thought that he knew exactly why David was doing this, and could easily end Emma's confusion by explaining it to her.
It's not my place to, he told himself. David would tell her the truth, when he was ready.
"No. I'm waiting for him," she mumbled, gesturing to the doorway of the diner. "Red says he's staying here, so he's got to come back sometime."
"So he moved out?"
Emma nodded, looking miserable. "Don't I deserve a break? I mean, I broke the curse, I did the whole saviour thing, I should be living out my happily ever after right now. Instead my parents are splitting up, my son hates me…"
"He doesn't hate you," Hook interrupted her gently.
Emma dropped her head into her hands, closing her eyes. "I just need one damn thing to go right in my life. Is that too much to ask?"
He shook his head slowly, unsure what to say. It was in that moment that Red happened to appear, grudgingly placing a mug of steaming coffee in front of him, followed by a plate of pie.
"Are you okay?" she asked, directing her question to Emma.
"We're fine," Emma said, lifting her head and smiling weakly across at the girl. "Thanks." Red lingered a little longer, sparing Hook a dirty glance before moving on to her next table. Emma stole Hook's fork, stabbing herself a piece of pie and biting into it with relish.
"Trade," she mumbled, pushing her plate of fries toward him and pulling his pie closer to her. He smiled, shaking his head at her, even as he picked up another yellow fry and popped it into his mouth.
"So have you done anything about that imp yet?" he asked, hoping to distract her.
She shook her head, licking cream off the edge of her fork. "I completely forgot about that," she admitted. "I'll tell Regina on Monday. Just, remind me okay?"
"Oh I will," Killian assured her. "You can't take an imp infestation lightly, you know."
"I know, I know, you told me before," Emma grumbled, waving him off. She glanced up suddenly, her green eyes flitting to the door. "He's here."
"Who, the imp?"
"No, idiot. David."
Killian turned, catching sight of the blonde haired prince as he stepped inside the diner.
Emma stood up suddenly, pushing her plate aside. "I need to…"
"Go," Hook waved her on. "Go talk to him. I should get going anyway," he said, rising to his feet. This was not a conversation he wanted to be around for.
"Okay," Emma said distractedly, her eyes still on her father. He'd caught sight of her, his expression grim as he watched her start to move in his direction. "Thanks Killian," she said as she walked past him. "I'll call you later."
"On what?" Hook said, more to himself than anyone else, for Emma had already moved out of earshot. He sighed, shaking his head. He really did need to get himself a phone.