II
Chapter Twenty-Four
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FTL, the past
II
Slowly, one by one, the leaves on the trees are starting to fall. The sun catches them as they fall, following them down to the patterns of light across the forest floor. It is fall. It will be winter soon.
Charming isn't watching the leaves fall at all. He is watching Snow instead, a far more lovely sight. She has her head in his lap, her arms on her belly. She doesn't need the sunlight to look luminescent, a glow about her that makes him smile just to look at her.
She's carrying their child. It still makes his breath catch to think about it.
Their child. He has no idea if it will have Snow's darker hair or his lighter or a mixture of both. He has no idea what color the eyes will be, what the nose will look like, what mixture of facial feature this kid will end up with.
He has no idea how this child will look. But he can imagine. He can imagine a child with Snow's heart, with her bravery, with her compassion. Maybe even with something of his, maybe the faith in good he likes to have, maybe the protective tendencies Snow likes to tease him about, maybe things he can't see in himself until he sees them in his child.
For the rest, he can't wait to meet this child.
II
Present day
II
Saving the Mayor from a fire is a very stupid reason to have to get a medical examination, Emma decides. Even if she inhaled a lot of smoke. Even if her throat hurts. It's stupid even if it's a medically sound thing to do.
Dr. Whale is just doing his job, of course. But he's preventing her from going out to do hers. So she's being a terrible patient and knows it, eventually making Whale give up in despair, release her and go look at his other patients.
She heads out into the hallway with renewed vigor. Right. That fire feels awfully well timed, possibly not accidental at all. Then there's Jefferson and the bastard who kidnapped Mary Margaret. For a first week on the job, it's some workload.
"This used to be a quiet town, you know," Graham says and Emma looks up at him. He's leaning against a wall, arms folded, and with something that might be fond amusement in his eyes.
"So people tell me," Emma remarks. She folds her arms. "To me it looks like this town was just waiting to explode."
"That's not all," he goes on, giving her a stern look. "What have you done to the Nolans?"
"What do you mean?" she asks with a straight face, keeping that strange feeling she's gotten about them lately off her face.
"Charging into burning houses with you? David and Mary Margaret Nolan? Mary Margaret pestering me to check up on you? David refusing treatment, insisting you be looked at first? It's like they've turned from housecats to tigers after you arrived."
"Maybe you just don't know your felines?" Emma suggests sassily, but his words still echo in her mind. They did seem a bit different when she first came, didn't they?
"Emma!" a voice calls, and sure enough, there comes the tiger herself. Mary Margaret comes barreling down the hallway with only one target in mind and before Emma can even lower her hands, she's being wrapped in an enormous hug.
Graham gives Emma a look and she has to fight to keep her face from showing him anything. She's not used to people caring about her. She's not used to it at all. It's a little disconcerting. It's just a whole lot more of something she doesn't even want to think about.
"I'm fine," she says and she can hear Mary Margaret let out a shuddering breath at that.
"I know you are," Mary Margaret says, releasing her from the hug and smiling at her. "I just had to see for myself."
"How is David?" Emma asks. To deflect a bit of attention, sure, but she also finds she genuinely cares about the answer.
Mary Margaret smiles lovingly. "Dr. Whale is with him and Henry now. Henry is fine, David just thought it best to take him with since I went looking for you. I expect they'll be here shortly."
"They are," Dr. Whale says, and Emma sees that the doctor is coming down the hallway and is being trailed by David and Henry. "I dare say Mr. Nolan is about as bad a patient as you, Ms. Swan. In any case, I expect to see you both tomorrow for a check-up."
Henry walks over to hug her and Emma accepts it without thinking, leaning down and putting her arms around him as if by instinct. David and Mary Margaret watch them with a slightly odd expression and their hands clasped, she notices.
"I'm fine, kid," Emma says reassuringly.
"You were a hero," Henry says against her . "Dad too. I knew you were the savior."
Emma doesn't comment on that, doesn't dare comment on that. Instead she looks at Dr. Whale. "Mr. Gold, how is he?"
"He inhaled a lot more smoke than you. We're keeping him here for at least a week, but I think he will make a full recovery. You saved his life, Ms. Swan and Mr. and Mrs. Nolan. He'll owe you one."
"Two," Emma corrects automatically, and wonders why the thought of Mr. Gold owing her favors would make David and Mary Margaret look so unhappy.
II
He could have died, Gold reflects coldly. The thought both terrifies and angers him, but he chooses to focus on the anger.
Someone tried to kill him. Not Regina, no. Not as she is now. Perhaps once the Evil Queen would have set a fire to kill him and not care who else got burned. Not now though. No. This was someone else, someone rash and prone to dramatics.
He can think of a few that would fit. Problem is, they're all meant to be dead or in another world. Of course, that is never any guarantee.
"I heard there was a fire at your house," Belle says and he looks up sharply so see her standing in the doorway. She looks hesitant and embarrassed to be here and yet here she is.
"Yes," he manages. His throat burns.
"Maybe you should have been worried about yourself rather than me," she comments, but he shakes his head.
"Belle..."
He can't manage more than her name; his throat burning with it. But her name in itself is an endearment, a declaration of love. He even altered the curse to make sure she kept it, not able to bear seeing her under another name.
(He still ripped her heart out, he reminds himself and remembers the expression on her face as he did.)
"I'm glad you're not dead," Belle simply says and leaves.
II
Emma watches the Nolans sleep in the waiting room, Mary Margaret's head in David's lap and Henry sleeping against Mary Margaret. They're waiting for her, she knows. They won't leave the hospital until she does, and she is still waiting on Graham.
They really have adopted her, she thinks. She might have joked about it, but they actually have. It's strange to think she's only known them a few days. It feels much longer.
"Whale will let us talk to Gold tomorrow," Graham says, coming up behind her. "There is nothing more you can do here tonight. Get some sleep."
"Is that an order?"
"If it was, would you tell me off for it?"
"Yes."
"Then it's a politely worded request. Get some sleep. Please."
"Only for you," she says, patting his shoulder. He looks at her hand there oddly for a moment, making her feel strangely self-conscious about touching him. With a small nod she walks past him and heads into the waiting room.
David stirs first, looking up at her with clear blue eyes. "Emma?"
"We can head back to Granny's for the night," she says softly. "Get some sleep. I can't believe you waited. You must be exhausted."
David smiles, a strangely sad smile as he puts a hand on Mary Margaret's head. "Trust me, Emma. Mary Margaret and I would have waited a long time for you."
It feels like what he's saying has more meaning than she's catching on to, but she still nods. It's too sincere not to nod at. This is the man who went into a burning house with her, after all.
Mary Margaret stirs now as well, blinking up at her. Immediately she smiles, holding out a hand that Emma very hesitantly takes.
"Let's get some sleep," Emma suggests and thinks of a soft, soft bed to sink into.