29. Drink

It was over. It was all over. That is, the threat with Cora, at least, was over.

Emma stood there motionless as she tried to catch her breath. The air around the town was slowly clearing out from the darkness it had been, and the sky was turning back to the bright blue it had always been. Everyone cautiously crept out of their hiding places, still unsure if the danger was really gone. When they saw that, yes, it really was over, they all began to celebrate and embrace those near them.

Emma did not join them. She could only continue to stare at the spot where Cora had disintegrated.

Her mother and father were hugging Henry and surrounded by the usual group of friends. But they were also trying to calm down the people into at least a model of decorum. But everyone was happy and they wanted to show it.

And Emma was happy too. The most immediate danger of the moment was gone. She didn't have to worry about it anymore, and she was thankful for that.

But she just didn't have the energy to join in the celebration.

Footsteps and a repeated thunk alerted her to a presence behind her.

"You did it, dearie. Congratulations." She could hear the smirk and the sparkle in his eye. As she turned around, she didn't lift her arms, so the sword dragged along the ground. She gave him an unimpressed look.

"Thanks," she muttered dryly.

His teasing smirk turned into something a little more softer.

"Want to go get a drink, love?"

Her answer to that was laughably simple.

"Hell yes."