Chapter Thirty Six

The night was so dark that Emma could not see her hand in front of her face. She could not see the majestic trees that towered above her. But she could hear them whispering to her, urging her forward. Her instinct told her not to listen. Her body shivered with the sense of foreboding. But there was something else. A quieter, darker force within her that was compelled by the trees' whispers. She followed the instructions they hissed.

Initially, she could not see a fire but she could smell it- thick and scorching through her nostrils to the back of her throat. She coughed at the unpleasant invasion of her lungs but powered through it. There was no way for her to know where she was or what surrounded her but cold fear prickled the bare skin of her forearms. She kept walking. Uncertain. Unable to stop herself. The further she walked, it seemed to get impossibly darker and the smoke proved a stronger enemy than her body could withstand. She kept pushing and kept moving but she could not breathe. She dropped to her knees. She opened her mouth to scream but not a sound was emitted. It just kept growing darker.

Emma woke with a gasp. Her heart pounded in her chest. It was the second time she had that nightmare. Or, at least, the second time that she could remember. It left her body cold. And even though the meek winter sun struggled to fight its way through her curtains, for those few seconds when she awoke her room was as disorientating and dark as the forest in her dreams. She commanded herself to count to five. Sometimes, it was the only thing stopping her from throwing herself out of a window.

The worst part about knowing she could not live without someone was having to wake up every day without them.

Every day.

One… two… three… four… five.

Wednesday

Mary Margaret set a bowl of cereal in front of Henry then poured two cups of coffee for her and David. When Regina had told her that she was leaving Storybrooke, she had not fully believed her old enemy would go through with it. But days turned into weeks and weeks turned into seven months and Regina was never seen or heard of. The townsfolk were initially confused by the queen's sudden disappearance. For the first three months, they were all on high alert convinced that Regina was off plotting to ensure she could eradicate them once and for all with her mother by her side. But the more time passed, the more the residents of Storybrooke relaxed into a world without the former mayor. Spring had settled in, the summer had been glorious and for the time Mary Margaret's friends experienced joy and peace.

She felt it when she walked down the streets of the town. She recognised it in David's smile. She saw it on the faces of the children she taught. Everyone had gone back to the life they had before the curse was broken but now they did so with the knowledge of who they were and the freedom to be that person. Even Gold seemed to be lulled by Belle's presence although Mary Margaret was still sure to keep an eye on him. He was forever up to something and she was not convinced that even love could stop that.

The only place where Mary Margaret did not feel the exultation of the Storybrooke renaissance was in her home. She could see how Henry struggled to make sense of his adopted mother's actions. For the longest time, he would not believe that she was gone. He would sneak out of the apartment only to be found hours later at Regina's mansion. He would refuse to leave, determined to wait until her return. At first, Mary Margaret and David would haul him back home kicking and screaming. Eventually they realised it would be better to wait until he fell asleep and carry him home. Every morning after that, he would come down for breakfast with an accusatory look at his grandparents. None of them ever spoke a word of it to Emma. Despite their best attempts to talk to or comfort him, Mary Margaret and David knew that it would never be enough. Henry knew they were happy that she was gone. Anything they had to say was tainted.

But Henry would talk about other things. Banal things. Homework or his favourite television show or how Johnny so-and-so played a prank on the girls at school. He talked about things that he didn't care about anymore just to fill the silence. For the first four months, Emma barely spoke.

No one could confirm that Regina was really gone until two weeks after the fact because the only witness to it locked herself in her bedroom and did not come out the entire time. Henry was confused. David was concerned. Mary Margaret lied and said it was a really bad flu. She could not tell her husband that it was because their daughter was heartbroken over Regina. When David and Henry were gone for the day, Mary Margaret would stand outside her daughter's room and plead with her to open the door- to talk to her. All she got was silence in return.

Then one day, Emma came down (washed and dressed for work) and told them about Cora's arrival and Regina's final departure. David was livid over Cora's return but his anger was as useful as a balloon with a hole in it. It was already over and had been resolved by Regina. All he had to do was enjoy the results.

Seven months later, Emma trudged down the stairs to find everyone else ready to go. It was obvious that she was different now. Her hair was a tangled mess in a bun and her face gaunt from not eating. It seemed that she grew paler with every passing day. It took effort for her to engage in conversation but she forced herself to. She hated going to work but she spent every day at the sheriff's office. She went to parties and town hall meetings and smiled at the townsfolk. She invited Neal to the apartment for dinner and watched him with Henry. She hung out with Ruby and played Scrabble with her parents. At first Mary Margaret thought that Emma did these things to hide her pain or exhibit her strength. But the more she watched her daughter the more she realised that Emma's attempts at a normal life were in defiance of Regina. It was as though Emma refused to give Regina the satisfaction of breaking her. The thing that scared her more was the idea that Emma was punishing herself. She supressed her light and courage and everything that made her Emma Swan- their saviour- and once again became the girl with a solid wall around her that no one could penetrate.

Mary Margaret did not want to think she was losing her daughter that way. She ignored it instead. She hoped that one day, that dreaded realisation would go away. It never did.

Emma was back in the forest. She remembered it in her subconscious mind. She tried to will herself to cover her nose and mouth at the familiar scent of smoke but to no avail. She had no command of herself her. All she could do was move forward. In the distance, she could just make out the faint outline of a clearing. A reprieve from the complete darkness that characterised this dream world. The trees called to her again.

She ran to the clearing and, before she knew it, her senses were assaulted. The fire was hot against her face, her ears filled with the jeers of a crowd, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue, the rancid stench of flesh burning and the sight… Regina with her eyes closed tied to a stake and burning. Burning. Burning.

Regina's eyes opened and looked straight at her.

Emma's eyes flew open. Another day.

Thursday

Neal walked down Main Street with his hands buried in his pocket. He nodded to the people who passed him in the street as though he had always been a part of Storybrooke. He stepped into the diner and revelled in the aromatic scent of coffee that filled the room. He made his order for two coffees with Ruby who gave him a quick wink and smile before saying, "coming right up."

Neal had never lived in such a small town before. There was no room for anonymity in places where everyone literally knew your name. When he had left for Storybrooke, he had no plan. He had no particular mission he hoped to accomplish and, yet, he still did not imagine that months later he would still be there. It had not been easy. Living so close to his father and never revealing his true identity was a constant battle. There were times when he would pass his shop and be overwhelmed with so much fury that he was desperate to march in and kill his father with his bare hands. But he never did. He had promised never to let his father know about him or Henry. He was determined to keep that promise.

His relationship with his new family had been confusing from the start.First he was in some twisted three-way parenting hell with Regina Mills only for Regina to make him swear that he won't abandon Henry and then for her to be the one in the wind. He had found her last visit to him disconcerting but after news of her disappearance spread, it made some odd sense to him. He took it as a challenge to take his place as Henry's father and Emma's partner.

But that was a path of rough terrain. Henry was wary of his new parent. Neal knew that Henry felt that if he opened up to Neal he would be betraying Regina. He did not try to be the boy's father. He wouldn't know where to start anyway. Instead, he struck a friendship with his son. Sometimes they would kick a ball around, one time they went for hot dogs. Henry asked many questions some of which Neal couldn't answer. He could not burden the boy with all the ugliness of his past. Other times, Henry wouldn't talk for a long time then he would suddenly start talking about Regina as though he were in mid-conversation with himself and then stop talking about her without completing his thought. Neal didn't try to make sense of it. He had to believe that one day he would be worthy of his trust.

The best days were when the three of them were together. Emma would come to Granny's to drop Henry off and sometimes she would just stay. They were not the picture perfect family. There were awkward moments and many things left unsaid but that was more than enough for him. Just to be with Emma and their son was more than he could have ever hoped for.

Ruby returned with the coffees and he paid her. He headed out back onto the street and made his way to the sheriff's office. He tapped lightly on the door and entered before he heard a response. Emma sat at her desk and stared at her computer. She did not look up as he approached and set the coffee down on the desk. He sat in the chair across from her. Months ago, Neal had walked into her office and found her in a trance like this. It unnerved him. She did not break out of it until he placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, not out of shock but rather as if he had been standing there the whole time. Neal continued to come to the office to see her in the time that followed. He would bring her coffee or pastries or tales from his latest visit with Henry. Sometimes she spoke. Other times she did not breathe a word. But every time she listened. He could see the concentration in her eyes. Neal never knew what caused this change in Emma but he knew that it was no coincidence that it started after Regina had gone.

He took a sip of his coffee, "It's starting to get cold out there."

She said nothing. Neal assumed it would be a silent day between them. He did not mind. He was content to just watch her. Despite her change in physical appearance, she was still the most beautiful person in the world to him. Once, he proclaimed his love for her. She told him to never repeat it.

She looked over from the computer to him. The slight twitches in her face showed that she was reminding herself of who he was. She flashed the tiniest smile.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what," he asked.

She shook her head, "I don't want to be like this."

"What do you want?"

She looked away- her eyes glassy, her mouth tense, perfectly still.

"Marry me," Neal said before he could stop himself. It was more a statement than a question. He had never thought of marrying her before. He had not allowed himself to go that far. But something in her expression compelled those two words out of him.

She looked back at him. She studied him for what felt like forever. Then she said, "Yes."

He did not hear the simple reply when she said it. It was as though the speed of sound had slowed in that moment. So that by the time he had registered her acceptance, she was already returning to her computer.

"I have work to do," she continued just as simply.

He took that as his cue to leave. He did so immediately.

Emma's eyes fluttered open. She could taste the soil in her mouth and spit it out hoping to cleanse her palate. She sat up and looked at the forest trees. They were now silent. The urge to run to them had gone. It was no longer as dark as it had been before. She could see the shape of things. The trees she looked up at for guidance suddenly felt as though they were people. Tall ominous beings looking down on her yet still taciturn. Then she heard the chanting: "Burn the witch! Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" It seemed near and distant all at the same time but she knew it was coming from behind her.

She turned to face it and saw Regina tied to the stake. Emma scrambled to her feet. She looked around the fire. The people of Storybrooke, her parents and Henry all covered in cloaks with the glow of the fire illuminating their sinister expressions. "Burn the witch! Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" Emma appealed to their decency. She cried and screamed but they would not look at her. They would not hear her. She turned to Regina. Her painted red lips moved but Emma could not hear what she was saying. Regina looked back at her in terror. She was not afraid of the crowd. She was afraid of The Saviour. The blonde slowly walked toward the stake until she finally heard a few words escape from Regina's lips- "My love you must believe me".

Emma hit the ground hard. She sat up and rubbed the side of her head as she looked back at her bed. Of course, she thought.

Friday

Kathryn checked the sauce for the pasta on her stove. She had the annoying habit of letting it get to thick and, regardless of how many times Frederick would praise her, she would feel as though the entire meal were a failure. As if he knew exactly what she was thinking, Frederick slid up behind her and kissed her neck.

"I'm sure it's great," he mumbled against her.

She stretched her left arm back to affectionately scratch the nape of his neck. She could feel her wedding ring caress his skin and smiled at its existence. They had been married for two months now. They had a small civil ceremony with only Emma and a friend of Frederick's from the high school as witnesses. Her husband was surprised she did not want an extravagant wedding. When he had asked for her hand, he imagined that the wedding would quickly turn into a three ring circus. Kathryn told him that she did not need a circus- just him. He accepted her finality on the subject.

Honestly, Kathryn was in no mood for a large party. As happy as she was to marry her soul mate, she missed her best friend. Upon hearing that Regina had left Storybrooke, Kathryn had gone through all of the expected stages of grief. By the end of her wedding day, she had reached acceptance. Somehow, she thought that Regina would magically turn up and that they would all live happily ever after. Sometimes, it was hard to shake her fairytale ways. But when there was no sign of her friend, Kathryn knew that she had to accept the brunette's choice. So, she accepted it. But that did not mean that she was over it.

"I'm heading out for a drink," Frederick announced.

"Stay for dinner," Kathryn encouraged.

"You two don't want me here."

He kissed his wife before she could argue. In her mind, she knew that he was running away. She knew why and she understood. She told him she loved him and warned him not to agree to another drinking contest with the dwarves. He promised with a wink. He was so devastatingly handsome that she knew she could not hold him to it. He made his escape and she returned to obsessing over the perfect thickness for sauce.

There was a knock at her door almost twenty minutes later. Kathryn opened and welcomed Emma inside. The two had formed a strange friendship over the past few months. Kathryn wasn't even completely sure that friendship was the correct term. They were more like two people who needed to be around each other because they were bonded over something that no one else could understand.

Kathryn was surprised the first time Emma showed up at her house one Friday afternoon. The poor girl looked as though she were about to collapse at her doorstep. Kathryn quickly ushered her into the guest room where she slept for hours. When she finally remerged, Kathryn and Frederick were having dinner at the table. Kathryn pulled back a chair for her and Emma sat down. She didn't say anything more than "pass the salt" that first night. She returned the next Friday and every Friday after that. Frederick had no issue with Emma's visits but Kathryn sensed that Emma scared him somewhat. He did not really get to know Emma before Regina left and the current Emma was a shell of who that woman used to be. There were looks and words and even silences that she and Emma shared which he could not understand and so Friday night became 'bar night' for him. Emma relaxed more when it was just the two of them. Surprisingly, they never spoke about Regina.

Today they talked about how it would soon be Christmas again. They both acknowledged how much had changed over the past year but without specificity. Emma mulled over Christmas gift ideas. Kathryn had no idea what to buy for her new husband. Kathryn knew they both wished Regina was there with a Martha Stewart helpful hint or a snarky remark about how she would be getting the Charmings coal. Kathryn smiled at the thought. Emma seemed to read her mind and almost smiled back.

In the six months of their new relationship, Kathryn had always thought that she was helping Emma but sitting together over pasta and vodka Kathryn knew that she needed it too. Sometimes, she felt that she needed it more. Having Frederick in her life, did not change how out of place she still felt sometimes in Storybrooke. It had been the thing that bonded her and Regina. They were both on the periphery. It was odd that the prodigal daughter of Storybrooke would be on the outside looking in just like her. It gave Kathryn a sense of ease and she imagined that it was one of the many reasons why Emma kept finding her way to her doorstep.

There was something different in Emma's expression that night. Kathryn could not pin it down but she also could not help but feel a sense of dread over it. Emma had come to her at many dark points but this was distinctive.

"Are you okay," Kathryn asked.

"You stopped asking me that a long time ago," her guest replied. "You know it's a pointless question."

"Why doesn't that feel true tonight?"

Emma shrugged. She poured herself another shot of vodka. She offered to Kathryn and the host held out her glass and watched the Saviour pour for her. Emma took a long sip from her glass.

"She loves you," Kathryn exclaimed. She was shocked by her own statement. She had shown such discipline in refraining from saying a word about Regina.

"I should go," said Emma.

"I know I broke our weird unspoken pact or whatever," Kathryn rambled on. She had broken the seal already she figured she might as well rip it off. "I don't what you're thinking. I don't know what you're torturing yourself about. But I know Regina. Wherever the hell she is, she loves you. I don't have to tell you that life can really screw us up and we make these decisions… choices that no one else may understand. I've been there. We do them because we think that's what we have to do. She would have never left unless she thought she had to. You know that. You knew her."

Emma looked down at her glass. Kathryn almost stopped breathing in anticipation. She hoped that she had not totally ruined everything. She could not bear to cause Emma any more pain. The young woman looked up at her, her green eyes cold.

"We were supposed to stop running. The both of us. It was supposed to be different this time. I stopped. She ran. She can love me all she wants," Emma responded before she stood up. She drained the remainder of her glass and walked out of the house. Kathryn knew better than to go after.

Emma stepped out of the forest and into the clearing. None of the fear and confusion that had plagued her before worried her now. Her steps were steady, measured, determined as they walked of their own volition toward the cloaked crowd. They spoke in hushed tones amongst themselves this time. Regina stood above them tied to the stake once again but with no fire. She pushed through the crowd and looked at the brunette. Her dark her long, her olive skin pale, her lips blood red. Her white dress like a virgin being delivered to her husband. She was ethereal. Emma's breath caught.

Then she heard the chanting: "Burn the witch! Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" but it was not a group of voices. Rather it was one clear strong voice that did not falter in its insistence on death. Emma looked around. The faces under the hoods looked back at her aghast. Then she realised… it was her own voice. She was the one calling for Regina's demise. She looked down to see a box of matches in her hand. She opened it and took out one match. She held it up as she inspected it. The brunette looked at her with the same horror in her eyes as the previous dream. Emma lit the match and as she tossed it onto the hay that lay at Regina's feet, Emma heard herself say: "Burn."

Saturday

Emma sprung up in her bed. She gasped for air as she looked down at her empty hands. A hand rested on her shoulder and she jumped.

"It's just me," Henry said.

Emma looked over at him. He was still in his pyjamas as he sat beside her. His resting hand now stroked her shoulder soothing her into calmness. Her breathing slowed.

"You shouldn't do that kid," Emma exhaled.

"I'm sorry. I came to check on you but you didn't hear me knock. You looked scared."

Emma did not remember her dream but she did remember that she was not scared in it. In fact, she was sure the opposite was true. Perhaps her conscious and subconscious had contradicting views on whatever her dream was about. She wasn't about to analyse it.

"Grandpa's making waffles," Henry informed her.

"Really," Emma asked.

She slipped into a temporary day dream except Henry knew that wasn't the right word for it. Sometimes it felt like his mother was under hypnosis and no one knew the magic word to snap her out of it. It used to scare him and then it made him feel helpless but eventually he reasoned that the temporary check-outs from the world were what she needed. He wished he could give her everything she needed.

He dragged her out of the bed knowing that she would not get out on her own. Even though Emma spent time out of the house and socialised with other people, he never felt that she did it because she wanted to. He was in constant fear that she was always just one step away from going back to locking herself in her room and never getting out.

He appreciated that the one person she truly made any kind of effort with was him. She let him talk about Regina but there was only so much the woman could take. On some weekends, they would hide in her bedroom and eat nothing but junk food and watch movies on her laptop or just lie together on her bed. It was those moments that he felt the closest to having his mother back. They gave him hope that one day she would return for good.

Henry led Emma down the stairs where the scent of slightly burnt waffles greeted them. Mary Margaret and David would always put on their brightest smiles whenever Emma would walk in a room. Henry could see through them. He was certain that Emma could too. But his mom did her best to reassure them with a forced half smile and a desperate attempt to hold on to some kind of normalcy. David had once asked his grandson about his daughter's worrisome behaviour. Henry had chalked it up to the stress and strain of the past two years finally taking their hold on the new Saviour. He couldn't tell his grandfather the more complicated truth. David never asked again.

Mother and son were halfway through their waffles when there was a knock at the door. Mary Margaret flitted off to answer and returned with Neal. Henry's father greeted the room and ruffled his son's hair. Henry hated it. He never said anything because Neal tried so hard. He pitied the guy. Henry was no better at having a father than Neal was at having a son. Fortunately, Neal had not forced Henry to call him 'dad'. But the more time they spent together, the more Henry made room for Neal in his life. Some days were harder than others but he was determined not to lose another parent. They all seemed to burst in and out of his life at record speed in the most surprising ways.

David offered Neal some waffles which he happily indulged in.

"I just wanted to see how you all felt about the happy news," Neal said between bites. "I guess I should have asked your permission first."

"What news," asked Mary Margaret.

Neal turned to Emma, "You didn't tell them?"

"Tell them what," Emma seemed genuinely unaware.

"About us getting married."

"What," asked David.

"What," Henry repeated the question. Of all the things that his father could possibly say, this was absolutely the last thing he had expected.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," Emma said nonchalantly.

"How do you forget something like that," demanded Mary Margaret. She was as shocked as Henry. Possibly, more so.

Emma shrugged. She took another bite of her waffle.

"Well, I guess congratulations are in order," said David as he slapped Neal on the back. He obviously had no idea what was going on but it seemed that any news was good news to him.

"But you can't get married," Henry blurted out.

His family turned and looked at him. Suddenly, Henry felt hot. He knew that he was about to erupt. He ran up to his bedroom and slammed the door shut. He yanked the covers off his bed, threw his comics on the floor and hurled his school bag across the room. The door opened and Henry retreated to the far end of his room where he stood with his back against the wall. He could feel the fiery angst rushing through every part of his body.

Emma stepped inside. She did not look around his room. She walked in and sat on the bare mattress. She stared ahead instead of looking at him. He wanted her to face him but was simultaneously relieved she did not.

"Most kids would kill for their parents to get married," Emma finally spoke. Her voice worked too hard to sound light.

"He's the wrong parent," Henry countered.

"You have to let that go, kid," Emma shook her head slightly.

"Why?"

"Because she isn't coming back."

"You don't know that," Henry paused. "You don't love Neal. You forgot that he proposed to you. Why are you marrying him?"

Emma's hands rested on the edge of the mattress. She then gripped it tightly as though it were the only thing balancing her.

"When Neal left me before you were born, he broke my heart," Emma began. "No one had ever hurt me like that before and a lot of people had hurt me. So I swore to myself I would never give anyone that kind of power over me again. I hardened my heart… until you found me. And until Regina. She was the one person who understood. She made her heart black. Do you know how many times I wanted that? To have no heart. She understood and she let me love her. She let me open my heart to her and then she just…"

Emma faltered. Henry had never heard his mother like this. These were things he could have guessed but to hear it in the Saviour's brittle voice overwhelmed him.

"You're right," Emma continued. "I don't love Neal. And that's exactly why I'm marrying him. He's safe. He can't hurt me. And I need to move forward. I can't be like this anymore. I'm freefalling. I need to take my life back. I need to be a proper mother to you and I can't be that if I'm constantly drowning. This is my decision to make. This is what I choose."

"But-" Henry wanted to argue.

"But nothing! Damn it, Henry. This isn't easy for me. Can you just let me do this? Please," his mother turned to him. Her eyes pleaded with him as much as her words.

Henry could not say anything. There weren't many things his mother had asked him for. And as each month passed since Regina's disappearance, he feared that Emma was constantly on the brink and the slightest thing could tip her over. He hoped that this fake marriage would not be that thing.

He gave a slight nod of his head and Emma nodded in return. She stood and ran her palms against the sides of her track pants. She walked to the door. Henry stepped away from the wall.

"She'll come back for us, mom. Do whatever you have to do, but she'll be back. You'll see."

Emma paused in the doorway. She leaned her hand against the frame and bowed her head. One… two… three… four… five. She stood up straight again and walked out.