"Tell me why you did it, Neal... Then I'll tell you what you did..."
Despite his confusion as a result of her wording, there is no ambiguity in her tone. The brunet regards the Sheriff warily- by now more than aware that he is about to find out things he perhaps doesn't wish to hear- but nods in acceptance of her terms.
Not that the request she poses is an easy one in the slightest.
"Why did I do it?... You make it sound like... Well, you make it sound so simple... It wasn't simple, and, whatever you might think of me, I really do hope you'd know that... Emma, I loved you... I've been around, well, for more years than you could conceive... I came from your world- from the Enchanted Forest- but the time I came from-"
"-I have no interest in that world, Neal... For once... For once I don't want to be sucked in to a goddamned sob story! Whoever 'Baelfire' was, well, maybe you can tell me sometime, but it has nothing to do with my question! So your life sucked? Mine did, too! I don't care, Neal! I don't care about the things you mumbled about when we were kids! I care about why you let things go the way they did! I didn't come here for a fucking story! I came to... T-to..."
Her voice cracks as she gestures desparately, and he takes her hand for a brief moment before she shakes her head and withdraws her fingers gently; her eyes begging him not to touch her again.
"Emma... I can't simplify it like that... I... It's all linked, don't you see that? How? I don't know... But if you want to know what happened, you have to let me at least lay the foundation down... Please?... All I had meant to say is... There's more to me than what you know... Actually, I guess that makes two of us... Only, my story starts a long time before yours, and, during that time, I saw a hell of a lot, and I've come into the company of a great many people in my life, good and bad... But you?... I loved you; I did! And leaving you standing there...Waiting for me... That was perhaps the second hardest thing I've ever had to do..."
Neal sighs, and takes a sip from his beer. His hand tingles from where pale skin had brushed against his own, and he wonders if she knows that for one so determined to seem untouched and hard, that her eyes speak volumes.
He imagines she is unaware.
Her mouth forms a hard line and her expression is stony, but her eyes... Well, her eyes are both just how he remembers them and hatefully changed, and he feels both elated and a little uncomfortable. They shimmer a hard, merciless green, and he has no trouble believing that she has heard the word 'bitch' spat at her a thousand times... Just as he believes that such a title will just be wishful thinking on her part... He sees behind that desperate defiance- sees who she'd been when he had first known her- and he bows his head so as not to be faced with that wary, wounded gaze any longer; glittering with the distrust of a woman simply waiting to be left a pretty, broken mess once more.
He doesn't want to know how many men have left her regarding him with the expression she offers him now, as he fears that an answer of either too many, or too few would break his heart.
He doesn't want her to have been hurt in his absence...
But, most of all, he doesn't want to be the reason behind that distrustful stare.
"Second hardest... The first... The first was not turning myself in and taking your place as soon as I heard what had happened to you...I wanted to, Emma... I did! But... It wasn't past of the plan... It... I... I couldn't..."
"What plan, Neal!? That's the second time you've said something along those lines, and I've got to tell you, that kind of talk isn't making me feel any better about this... It turns out it's something I have a lot of experience in- being part of someone else's 'plan'- and so far, it hasn't exactly worked in my favour!"
"I know... And I'm sorry... But I was told it had to be the way it went, Emma... I had to let you go on to fulfil your destiny..."
"Destiny?!"
The Sheriff scoffs, offering the man opposite her an incredulous glower.
"What destiny?"
"I don't know! I just followed orders!"
"Orders?! Orders from who?!"
"...Pinnochio..."
"Oh, of course! Because that makes total sense-"
"-Emma... You have to understand that I had a history back in that other world... And when that man approached me and showed me proof that he knew of that place also... It wasn't just a story to me! I didn't want for you to have any part of it, but he explained it was already much too late for all that... He explained that people needed you... I... I didn't understand- I still don't entirely understand- but I know enough to be sure that if I had kept you with me, if I had ignored him and just fenced the watches and done what I wanted to do... I'd have been selfish... Because people were relying on you to save them..."
"But maybe I didn't want to save them!"
"Emma-"
"-Maybe I never wanted people to need me!"
"... You were the key to the curse Regina put on the land-"
"-Because your father tricked her into doing it!"
"... I can't comment on that... All I know is that you never had a choice in the matter... That's how magic works, Emma, and that's why I wanted to get away from it! It comes at a price! Those people would have needed you whether you wanted them to or not... And I know you... At least I did... And I know that deep down you would have made the same decision if you'd known the details... You would always have saved them-"
"-But that's just it!... No one ever gave me that fucking decision to make! They just left me! If... 'Pinnochio'... Told you... If he explained to you what had to happen- what I needed to do- then why didn't you tell me?! Why didn't you tell me the truth?! Why did you let me think it was all my fault?!... Or was that all part of the 'plan' too?"
"Yes... It was the way things were supposed to go, but... That's not why I didn't tell you..."
"Then why?! If you had actually loved me, Neal... You would never have done what you did..."
"I had no proof! Emma, if I had turned to you and tried to explain the ways of that other world- hell, tried to explain the existence of that other world- you would have thought me mad! I only know what my father told me last night, but I do know that it took a fair bit of convincing even with a great many clues right under your nose... And that's not because you're easy to deceive, or a fool- I know that much better than most- but because it's crazy! I don't know how he managed to convince you in the end, but I'm sorry to say, he always was a man more cunning than myself, and-"
"-Who?"
"My father."
"... You think your father convinced me?"
"... He didn't?"
Neal frowns- trying to play back Gold's exact wording as to the breaking of the curse- but realises the subject had barely been broached during their awkward conversation the night before. There had been many other topics for father and son to discuss, after all. Swallowing, he waits for the blonde to elaborate; Emma regarding him thoughtfully as though weighing up just how to answer him. He imagines that this is exactly what she's doing; knowing well enough that excitable chatter and words of deeper meaning reside in vastly different hemispheres of the blonde's mind.
Finally, she surprises him by laying her arms out across the table; proffering him her palms. He looks up at her in confusion when she swiftly pulls them away again as soon as he tries to take her hands.
"No... Pull up the sleeves a little-"
Offering her a wary glance rife with question, he does as he's told; feeling curiously shy edging up black wool to expose slender wrists, despite having occaisionally ripped her clothes in his haste to remove them in the past.
His brow furrows deeply as he exposes twin circlets of scar tissue; a little more prominent on the right than on the left.
"-Your father did try to convince me... In his own way..."
"My father... He did this?!"
"The scarring was an accident, but the reason behind it was not."
"Fuck! Emma, I-"
"-You nothing. I didn't show you this for an opinion, but rather just to illustrate a fact. Your fact. I'm angry, Neal, but I'm not stupid. I wouldn't have believed you... Not if you'd just told me about the fairytale thing... But, as you said, you had a history. You knew things about that place. Things that might perhaps have been hard to explain away... Maybe I'd never have believed you; I'm not saying it would have been anything so simple as showing me the odd thing piece of evidence here and there, I mean, I know damn well the magnitude of what we're talking about here!... But, the thing is... You didn't even try... You were afraid to try something that was attempted and persevered by a ten year old... And you couldn't even give it a shot..."
"...Wait, a ten year old convinced you?!"
"We're getting to that part. I-"
"-Okay! Okay, we're getting there, and I know you're not done, but I have to say something-"
"-I don't want an excuse, Neal, I-"
"-And I'm not trying to give you one. I just... You're angry, and I understand that... But I'm not angry with you, and I'm sitting here with you telling me how you felt and showing me that my father fucking physically hurt you, and you're speaking like we're on even turf! Like you're having your go and then I get mine! Emma, you may hate me, or dislike me, or want me to drop down dead, but I missed you! I know you don't want to hear that, and we don't need to get into an argument about how badly I fucked up in showing it, because- believe me- I know... But I haven't catalogued and pushed away this stuff like you have. What I did could be argued to be bad, but I'm not a bad guy, and right now I'm feeling pretty torn up inside about all this... I'm not telling you that because I want you to show me pity or feel anything other than the way you feel... But I do need you to know it.
You said you felt like things were all your fault, and that kills me. It was never your fault, and it may be too late to say that now, but- again- I can't change that. I did love you, and I'm sorry you had to feel that way. If I'd known how badly you felt... Shit, I don't know... Maybe I'd have-"
"-You didn't think I'd feel shitty about it!?"
"Well, of course I knew you'd feel hurt! I got you sent to jail! I-"
"-You knew about what happened to me! You knew about all that stuff from when I was a kid! And you couldn't figure out that you leaving me like that would make me feel like I wanted to fucking die?! You couldn't-"
"-Please! I... I know! I was an idiot... I-"
"-I waited for you!"
"What?"
"...I waited for you when I got out... And you know what's sad? Some naive, idiot part of me allowed myself to hope that you'd actually be there when I got released... I've spent years looking back on that day and telling myself that surely- surely- I hadn't been stupid enough to actually look for you in the lot outside... But I was stupid enough, and no one was there."
"Emma, I-"
"-So then eventually I found my way over to Tallahassee. Another idiot move, but then, why not?! I mean, it's not like I had family or anything I would miss! What difference did it make to me?! I mean, I had a goddamn car, right? So why not just hit the dirt and brood by the beach! I mean, sure, a part of me might have hoped that you'd somehow been unable to contact me, or find me, or whatever... And that foolish part may have even wished that in such a case you'd somehow know to come and meet me where we'd planned... But, whenever that naive, hateful voice piped up, it was easy to tell her to shut up, because all I had to do was take a look around me at the shitty interior of that fucking car, and realise that it wasn't a case of not being able to contact me at all, but simply not wanting to... Keys, but no letter... No explanation... And you're sitting here telling me your heart hurts..."
"... I had no idea I hurt you that badly... If I'd known-"
"-Oh, I wasn't finished..."
The blonde growls, and she wipes her eyes irritably with the back of her hand; frustrated at her body's mutinous lack of control. There is something therapeutic in vocalising the blackness that has curdled within her mind for so long, but there is also something distressing in how quickly her tongue has raced ahead of her thoughts. Her past is something she dwells on only in bite sized chunks, as, while she will privately admit she's accepted more than anyone's fair share of shit, she is outwardly not a fan of expressing this sentiment.
She doesn't like talking about her life, and she doesn't like feeling as though she is begging for sympathy.
She doesn't like that she is ready for a second drink- when it is she who has done most of the talking- and that she's still not done getting everything off her chest.
There exists an inner fear in her heart of coming across as a charity case- of portraying herself as 'broken' in any way- that she just can't shake.
Because there are some people- bad people- that like to feed off such weakness.
Not Neal, though.
She does know this.
She's just tired now.
But she's almost done.
Neal watches as the blonde pulls herself back under control and refrains from sliding across a napkin. It may have been a good many years, but he had known her well, and he knows such an act will go down sourly. Instead, he waits for her to regulate her breathing and calls over another round, offering the barman a warning look when the man eyes Emma's pink eyes curiously.
"... Thanks..."
She mutters, and he nods slowly, waiting for her to continue, before prompting her when she merely stares into space.
"...You were getting to the part where a kid convinced you of what some asshole could not..."
"Oh, right... That part... Fine. But I have one more question before we get to that..."
"... Anything."
"...Did you know who I was?"
"Pinocchio called you the 'Saviour'."
"But did you... I mean... Snow, Charming; my parents... Did you know they were here? Did you know that they... Did you know that they wanted me?"
"No."
"... You swear?"
"...I knew that I had to let you fulfil the prophecy- that people were counting on you doing so- I didn't know any more than what Pinocchio told me, I give you my word... Whatever that may be worth to you."
"I believe you."
"You do?"
"I have to... If I didn't believe you, then I really would want you to fall down dead... And recently I've not been feeling so willing to hate."
"That place... Storybrooke... It's done you good.. A place to call home?"
"It's not the place, it's the people... I have a family."
"I heard... I... I'm very happy for you... You deserve it... But, I can't quit thinking on the fact that you've told me you haven't finished with all you needed to say..."
Emma sighs, taking a sip from her beer before closing her eyes. When she speaks, she does so quietly, but clearly.
"When I saw you in the alleyway yesterday, I decided that whatever happened, I'd find a way to keep this from you... But I'm not sure now- after talking it through with a friend- that you deserve that luxury.
About three weeks after I was incarcerated, I got sick. Really sick. So, a bunch of bloodwork and crap got ordered- a waste of time really, I could have told them what was wrong with me in a second if they'd bothered to ask; eating and drinking just hadn't seemed all that interesting anymore, and that was all there was to it- but they went and used their fancy needles and medical terms anyway. I pretty much knew what to expect from the results... But there was one thing that came back that I wasn't exactly anticipating.
...I asked them to let me take just a regular pregnancy test to confirm it..."
She swallows, not sure entirely how else to word the whole belated 'honey, we're having a baby' thing. After all, it had been anything but 'wonderful' and 'great news' and there certainly hadn't been any being lifted up into the father's arms and swung round like in the movies.
Rather, a warden waiting outside the door listening to her pee.
The thought suddenly strikes her as really rather amusing, and she lets out a hysterical giggle that turns into a sob as Neal stares at her, dumbstruck.
Finally, clearing his throat, he speaks hoarsely
"And it was positive?-"
Mentally kicking himself when met with her black glower, he mutters as he pulls at his hair fretfully
"-Of course it was positive... Why else would you be telling me... I... Emma, I don't... I mean...Fuck!"
"Well, it's good to know we had pretty much the same reaction, at least..."
"... I... I'm..."
"Don't tell me... You're 'sorry'?"
"... Emma..."
"If you're apologising for knocking me up, then that's pretty ridiculous. That's like occasionally not bothering to put on walking boots and then apologising to your shoes for ruining them."
"... I'm not apologising for that... Although I do feel like maybe I should... I'm apologising for the fact that I wasn't around when you found out. I... Fuck... I mean... How did you... What did you...D-did you get rid of it?"
"Him... And no. I had some woman come in to discuss my options with me, which was basically 'Miss Swan, you have no options'... I didn't get morning sickness until quite late into it all, so I'd not had any clue before they did the bloodwork and it was too late. They could probably still have aborted if it was medically necessary, but it carried a higher risk, and Arizona really wasn't the best choice of place to be locked up with a bunch of women after 'murdering a baby'... I wasn't exactly on the best terms with the local chain-meat as it was."
"... So you... You had the baby?!"
"Well he's not still in there!"
She snarls, but despite her choice of words, there is nothing humorous in her expression. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"So... I'm a father? I have a child?!"
"Well, you have a kid walking around with some of your DNA... In technical terms you're a father..."
"Shit... I mean, that's... That's... I don't even know..."
"I believe it's known as science."
"Emma... I... Where is he? What did you... I mean... What did you do?"
"What did I do?... What do you think I did, Neal?"
"Well, I don't... "
"I put him up for adoption. I asked them to take him away."
"Em, I'm so... I don't know what to say... All I can say is that I'm sorry, and that doesn't carry the weight I want it to... I mean... I know you didn't want a child, but I do understand it wasn't that easy- that simple- and I know that with your past, you-"
He trails off as the blonde begins to laugh. She shakes her head as she chuckles throatily, but there is something terrible about that sound and her cheeks are wet.
"You think I didn't want a child?"
"Yes... No... You... You gave him up...?"
"It had nothing to do with me not wanting a child!"
"But..."
"I did want the child."
"Then..."
"I didn't want the child not to want me... The same way everyone else didn't..."
And then she really is crying- putting both hands up to hide her face- and suddenly it's like she's seventeen again. Neal clenches his jaw- his own lashes wet- and regards her wearily; the tip of her nose and the flash of her teeth just visible between the shadow cast by her palms.
"...Please don't cry... Emma?"
Worrying his lip when she doesn't respond, he glances over at the openly curious barman and makes a show of pulling a couple of notes from his pocket and placing them on the table. When the man nods in understanding, he turns back to the blonde and pushes himself from the table. Taking a loose hold of her wrist, he tries to pry it away gently, resting his other hand on her shoulder to coax her up.
"Come on, come with me... There's something that you really need to see..."