There were no words to express how sorry Emma was for what she did. There weren't enough regrets to say how sorry she was to her father and her mother and to her friends for abandoning them like she had.
The first few months, she had been angry. A blind fury had taken ahold of her in which she blamed everyone. Regina for casting the curse, Jefferson and Rumpelstiltskin for their parts, her mother for giving her up to a man that her mother feared and mistrusted and her biological father for never seeing it. She felt at the time that she was entitled to some self-pity, in her mind, everyone had betrayed her.
But the world was a dark and scary place when there was no one out there that cared for you.
The first month was the hardest. Emma wanted so many times to just pick up the phone and beg for her father to let her come back home. IT was freezing out at night and it'd taken her two weeks to find her first homeless shelter. She had money in her account but didn't want to burn through it.
She regretted that decision almost immediately when she saw the kind of people there and the way they looked at her like she was a slab of meat in the display window.
That was when she nearly went home. Her father would forgive her; there was nothing wrong in running. Cowards lived to fight another day, he had taught her that.
He'd also taught her pride. What was waiting for her there? A father who manipulated her to fit his own agenda; pushing her for a life and future she never asked for? A lot of children had that but most of them had a choice in the end. She didn't. He put down a prophecy that guaranteed as much.
And it's not like she had anything else waiting for her. Jefferson had attacked her and her mother didn't even know her face. She knew it was wrong to abandon them but it wasn't right. IT wasn't right to be forced to watch her mother not know who she was day after day while they put a sword in her hand and told her that an entire world depended on her. She never asked for that! She just wanted to live her life and be left alone and as soon as she found a job then she could do that.
At least until she was 28, but that was in ten years. She could find a way not to return to Storybrooke. She didn't care if all four of her limbs were broken and her father was the only one who agreed to take care of her, she wasn't going back.
She stayed long enough at that homeless shelter to eat and then she was out on the streets again. She wasn't going to risk being in a place like that with the way the men were looking at her. It took two hours of wandering the street before she even felt remotely safe again.
That's when she landed in front of the law office. There were cars still there though it's evening. Expensive ones, she didn't know how but she needed up on the better part of the city and there were all these cars that could easily be replaced if she took one.
She lived for two weeks in that car. It was safer than the homeless shelters and less expensive than hotel. She traded license plates so she wouldn't be detected. She knew a lot about cars, Jefferson loved them and some of his false memories were of a trouble teenager who used to break into them before he settled down. Emma used the skills he taught her. Her father wouldn't have approved and neither would Jefferson; he'd taught her how to break into one as means of a quick getaway.
Two weeks she had that car. She slept in 24 hour superstore parking lots, ate more junk food than she cared to think about while she worked temporary jobs to fund herself. She never stayed in one place. Her dad could find her if she did and if he got word to her then she wasn't entirely sure she'd turn him down for coming home.
She abandoned that car by the middle of the second week and took another one when she got to a rich part of another city and that was when she realized that she was being followed. It wasn't obvious, but the same black car stayed four cars back on the interstate and thee cars back when she got suspicious and took the back roads.
She didn't think that they were from her father. Rumpelstiltskin would've probably had her kidnapped and brought home or something. He hated that she was in this world and if he could bring her back then he would have.
What if it was from Regina? What if they were tracking her?
Emma traded cars more frequently after that. She stayed in large cities where she could get lost easily. That second month, she finally found someone that would change her name.
It drained half her bank account but she felt a bit safer while she moved. All of a sudden, never staying in one place felt like a good idea.
She lived like that for half a year and she began to settle down. Her mother had given her to Rumpelstiltskin because she had no idea what kind of world this was and she couldn't understand it. She gave her to Rumpelstiltskin because she knew that he would keep her safe.
At least that's how Rumpelstiltskin told it and who knew if he was telling the truth. It was a feeling that gutted her, not knowing how much of what she knew were facts and which were things that kept her behaved.
Living outside of Storybrooke, she could understand a bit of why he might've lied to her about the border. She knew his past with his first wife and whatever had happened with his son and with the other woman he used to draw had left him broken. She'd spent 16 years watching him struggle with caring for her and loving her while thinking of himself as an unlikable monster who could never care or love again.
But there was no excuse for creating the curse, manipulating everything to get the curse casted, and then getting his hands on her so that she could be manipulated while her family was torn apart. She couldn't even begin to think he was sorry because she wasn't convinced he wouldn't do it again if he had to.
And her biological father? Well, why was she angry at him for? There was no way that he could've known. He had a pregnant wife and an oncoming curse.
And Jefferson, she wasn't sure. Why did he attack her? And why did he look hurt when he did it? She was his friend! He'd been her confidant like he'd requested and then he attacked her! Why? What purpose did it serve?
Was there anyone out there that wasn't planning to use her to further their stance on the curse?
The first half of a year she spent wondering. The second half of that first year, she'd settled down in a small town and got a job as a waitress. No one bothered her; her ID said she was eighteen and her fake social security number 'confirmed' who she was. She liked the town. It reminded her of home except most people were happy.
And then a black car with a similar license plate started driving by the restaurant very slowly and Emma was on the move again.
A month or so into the second year, she met Neal.
Neal wasn't…everything she wanted in a companion. She wasn't sure what she thought of when she wanted a companion; she liked to think that her future husband would be someone of a mix of Graham's kindness and determination to do the right thing combined with Jefferson's loyalty and uncanny ability to understand her.
But Neal was different than them; she didn't always feel like she had to be on her guard. Graham; because of Regina and Jefferson because he clashed so much with her father. He didn't have an agenda or a goal for her to meet. He didn't have something he wanted for her to do for him that required him protecting her.
They taught her how to survive. Neal with his easy smile and flirting carefree demeanor taught her how to live! Where she had every step of her life planned for her practically, he taught her how life could be unpredictable. There was something thrilling about not knowing where your next meal came from or where you were going to sleep that night. When she was alone it was terrifying but when she was with someone…when she was with him, it was like an adventure.
She thought she loved him. Her father had warned her about falling for the first guy that came along. He had talked to her about waiting until marriage before…well he had blushed at that part because he always felt awkward when talking about sex…but if she felt like she wanted to…he blushed again, it was such an odd sight…to make sure that she dated the guy for a while and she was sure.
Maybe Emma had thought she was sure. Or maybe it was a fit of rebellion, she didn't know anymore. She didn't want to think about it.
But Neal hadn't loved her; he had used her and threw her away when he was done. He used her as means to an end just like everyone else in her life and to make it worse, he'd made it so that she couldn't run as far away from Portland as she could.
She was alone again. Well…not alone…Actions had consequences and she found that out as she sat in her cell looking at the positive pregnancy test.
And while she was trapped in that prison, it gave her time to think.
She wanted to go home.
Her pride got in the way again. Her father would use the baby; Regina would use it, Jefferson…well…who knew what Jefferson would do. She'd have to spend ten more years looking at her mother who didn't know who she was. Could she endure getting manipulated and toyed and emotionally and mentally abused by the chess players of this game while trying to spare her baby from the same torment?
She could always stay out here when she got out. She could still stay away and raise her son.
With what money? It was all gone now and there was no one. She could survive on her own but she couldn't expect herself to put a baby through the same.
She could put him up for adoption.
But look at her luck with adoption.
And then thoughts began to creep in. She wanted to hear her father's voice again. She wanted to see her mother and just…spend time with her again. Like it used to be.
But it wouldn't be like it used to be.
Storybrooke held a lot of danger, but this world posed a far greater threat. At least there, she could keep an eye on Regina…know her moves. What if she was out here and Regina found her and learned she had a baby? What if Regina tracked the baby down while Emma was in jail? Emma couldn't die but the baby might.
Emma may be a pawn but her father did protect her and now that she was alone, she couldn't be protected out here.
At least she'd have her own bed if her father let her back home.
Her pride kept her from calling for several months and she constantly weighed the pros and cons of calling him again. Once Jefferson said that there were no winning choices in some situations and she had to pick the lesser of the two evils.
The safety of her son, like it or not, was with his grandfather.
And during her seventh month, with her feet so swollen that she could hardly walk, she picked up the phone and called him.
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Emma had held her son only once before they'd taken him away to go be with Rumpelstiltskin. The days following were misery for her, as her breast constantly leaked and weighed her down, it hurt to walk and she was emotional.
She'd just given her father a way to get her to come back. They were talking again, about small stuff because they both knew the inevitable storm was coming in which they'd fight and Emma was scared that she'd change her mind.
But no fight came, at least not yet and she went home; the entire way, debating with herself. Maybe she should just stay until she saved her money up and left again, raised her son away from Regina and from this dysfunctional family…away from curses and immortality, and loneliness and deals and chess games and manipulation. Her son didn't deserve to live on the streets outside of Storybrooke and he certainly didn't deserve what Storybrooke had to offer.
But when her father saw her and she saw the way he looked at her and reached out to touch her face…she felt her resolve crumble. No! She was going to stay strong in her stance! If he didn't tell her why…or if he crossed lines that he shouldn't cross again then she was leaving.
But then he held her. Like he always did when she was scared or upset and she felt herself break. She felt him cling to her as tightly as he could and whisper apologies like he had been since they started talking on the phone.
And she knew that she was going to stay
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She held David once before she came here and now that she held him again, she wasn't sure how he'd gotten so big in just two months.
"Easy," her father whispered and then said sharply when the baby was transferred into her, "Don't drop him, now."
"I'm not going to drop him," she said and stared down at his face. He looked like her and her mother, thank God. He opened his eyes and stared at her. Emma felt her throat constrict and she mentally apologized to him for bringing him into this.
"How is he?" she asked.
"He's fine really, he's a quiet child," Rumpelstiltskin sat across from her, "Should make the 2 am feedings easier."
"I can't feed him," she whispered, "Breast milk dried up the second week he was gone. I know…I know…you don't have to tell me; whose fault was that, right?"
"That wasn't what I was going to say. I was going to say that I couldn't feed you like that either and you never complained."
She smiled despite her tears, "It's supposed to be healthier…it's supposed to be a bonding experience."
"You'll have more," he told her. '
"Will those make up for the hundred I've already missed?"
"No," he told her honestly, "But there are a billion more if that's a comfort."
It wasn't but she understood what he was trying to do.
He sighed and folded his hands in front of her, "Are you going to stay?"
She should tell him yes and ease his mind, but she knew that if she did then he might believe her and that meant he wouldn't give her the answers she wanted because no matter how disappointed or angry she was, she wouldn't go anywhere.
"Well it seems like that decision is up to you," she lied. She hated that it came to this, she didn't want to play this game with him of all people, "I believe we made a deal on the phone."
"You want to know everything now?" he asked. He seemed so tired, so astonished that she was going to bring this up just she got home.
"No," she told him, and that was the truth, "I just…I want to rest. I want to sleep for a week and stay in the bath for a month. But I can't, because I have responsibilities. I want to feel safe again and I want to trust you."
"Well I think that runs both ways," he said but looked like her comment stung him, "You haven't handled this with the best of decisions either."
Emma looked down at her son who watched her quietly, "Yeah, I know."
It was an uncomfortable awkward silence. She heard her father draw him his breath, "I will tell you what you want to know. And what you don't want to know as well and in the end you'll make the decision of whether or not you want to stay. I can't force you to do what you don't want to do."
Oh good, he'd learned that. At least he said he did. She supposed that only time would tell on whether or not he was telling the truth.
The boy yawned in her lap and began fussing.
"He'll want to be asleep now," Rumpelstiltskin said.
Emma didn't want to let him go. She felt a surge of motherly protection when he stepped forward to take the baby from her arms. Something in her look or body language must've tipped him off about her attitude because he backed away and motioned toward the bassinet, "Unless you'd like to do it."
She stared at her son the entire time she walked across the room. She would protect him, she would keep him safe, no one would hurt him. If they did then they'd have both her and Rumpelstiltskin to worry about.
And hopefully Regina was smart enough to realize that she couldn't take both of them down when they were pissed at her.
The front door opened and Emma instinctively placed herself between the door and the bassinet. She looked to her father for any sign of alarm but he watched her with no concern on his face.
Her mother came into view, "They gave us the wrong streamers for the party, can you bel-."
Emma felt like she was standing in front of an audience of people instead of just her mother. Mary Margaret dropped the bags she was carrying. A stunned breath escaped her throat.
Emma felt so humiliated for what she'd put her through, "I'm back."
Mary Margaret was across the room before she knew what happened. She barely had enough time to lift her arms and accept the embrace before Mary Margaret was practically attacking her with a hug.
"You came home," she whispered.
Emma realized tears were falling down her cheeks again. She had hurt her mother, who had done nothing to her but sacrifice for what she thought was best and she had willingly hurt her by running off with the hope of never coming home again.
She was a sorry excuse for a child
"Yes," she added a mental mom in there but Mary Margaret wouldn't hear it, "I'm home."
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Rumpelstiltskin insisted that Mary Margaret spend the day with them and Emma didn't disagree with him. Her mother eased the tension between both of them and made the awkward silence at least tolerable.
She had dinner with them and left and both instead chose to focus on the baby instead of talking.
It was still awkward when they both went to sleep that night. David woke her up once that night and she prepared the bottle like her father had taught her and put him back down.
She could be a mom. She could be a mom. She could be a mom.
Well how on earth was she going to be a mom when she didn't know what completely selfless love really was? She knew her parents loved her but at least her father didn't love her in that way and her mother wasn't awake to teach her.
She supposed she'd just have to do what her father did and crank it up to another level.
He was already gone when she got up. He left a note saying that it was rent day and he had to work. She supposed that made sense, he had her and a baby living with him now, he was going to need all the money he could get.
She fed David and put him in a small bassinet inside the bathroom so that she could shower. She spent half an hour in there and when she was out, got dressed in one of the outfits left that still fit her…she was going to need to do some shopping soon. There was still some money in her account that her father sent over, she didn't sleep in as many hotels as he would've wished but she wanted to come home.
"Come on David," she whispered to her son and put him in the stroller that she'd lugged down the stairs before bringing him down, "They're going to see that I'm home eventually, might as well give them something to talk about, right?"
Something moved behind a tree and she looked up, her instincts for the past two years kicked in and she felt every muscle tense.
Jefferson stepped out from behind the tree. She could see that his eyes were red and swollen and he watched her with a cautious expression.
She still remembered how terrified she'd been when he attacked her and threw her over the border. How she thought she was honestly going to die. He deserved to be slapped for that…well he deserved a lot more than that because attacking her just to show her she could cross over the border would be unforgivable to some.
But then again, so was running away and landing in over her head.
She walked up to him, "You should've thought things through a lot better than what you did."
His tense gaze softened a bit and he looked truly guilty, "I know."
He was going to have to work to get her to trust him ever again. But seeing him again…the sad way he looked at her, like he was expecting her to just go off on him and remove herself so that he was alone again…she felt the anger drain away.
She chose to embrace him because she knew how it felt to be left alone and betrayed.
The gesture took him back and he let the air leave his lungs. He returned the embrace and they just stood there…for several seconds…maybe even minutes…
David began to fuss.
Emma drew back and stared at her friend for a few seconds and turned for her son. One day he would tell her why he did what he did, but not today. Maybe not even this week, she wanted to have some rest before she took up duties as a savior again.
"If you ever do something like that to me again?" she walked the stroller toward him, David stopped crying when there was movement, "Then I'll shoot you before I leave."
He gave a wry smile, "Okay."
She returned the smile, "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go get breakfast."
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The party was that night. Emma didn't want to go really, but from what Jefferson had told her though his own amusement, Mary Margaret had about cleaned the town out preparing for her arrival party and so Emma would go without complaint. She bought a nice blue dress for the occasion.
She dressed and was preparing the baby for the evening out when her father came home. She was singing the baby a lullaby that her father had taught her when she was young when he came into the room.
"I didn't know you remembered that," he told her when she stopped.
Emma blushed, "I remember a lot of things you sang to me when I was little."
"You look nice."
She looked down at the dress. It hugged her slight curves and was above the knee but not so much that it would cause attention. Those days were LONG over.
"Thank you," she said and prepared to put him in the stroller, "Jefferson stopped by today."
She watched him tense, "He did, did he?"
"It was fine," she said, "He didn't hurt me."
"I should never have allowed him anywhere near you."
"Trust me," she said and nodded, "You did us both a service when you let us be friends."
She didn't tell him that he'd told her why he did it. They'd talked about it that morning in his car after breakfast. Away from everyone who had watched them in the diner. He'd told her about Regina's proposition and how he did it to drive her away and protect her from Regina and himself. He didn't want to even consider the temptation of what he'd have to do to get Grace back.
She couldn't say she was shocked at who was responsible…and his own logic made sense in his own eyes. He just didn't count on Regina having someone tracking her out there. She didn't tell him about that though. Some things were better left unsaid. It'd hurt him if he knew that she was in danger from Regina out there too.
"Emma," her father started when she began to buckle David up.
"Hm?" she asked.
He shrugged, "Would you leave the baby here? I haven't seen him all day."
That was a relief. She was willing to let people see the baby but she knew that they'd all want to hold him and he'd be passed around and Emma wasn't sure if she wanted a thousand eyes staring at her kid yet, "Alright."
Her son grabbed her finger and she smiled and kissed his little fist.
"I better go," she said and pulled on her coat, "It's probably not right that you're late for your own homecoming party."
"Emma," he started.
She looked up at him and watched him struggle with what he was about to say.
"After the party, I'll tell you why we're here."
