A/N: Ok, I didn't quite get to the park yet but I will, I promise! More conversations, a flashback and character history just came out once I sat down to write.
"You said what?" Ruby asked, jaw gaping at what she had just heard. Or misheard, surely!
"I said I'd go to Central Park with Regina and Henry and whomever else is going from the shelter today," Emma said as she loaded her two slices of toast into the toaster, one towel wrapped around her body and her hair piled up beneath a second atop her head.
"You said you'd go to the park with the same Regina Mills whom yesterday you screamed you hated before throwing stuff at the wall?"
"Yes, and then I calmed down and decided that I was going to do my job and make sure Regina and Henry were safe, remember?" Emma replied as she got her jam and butter out of the fridge, preparing for her breakfast to be made.
Ruby frowned. "Well, yeah, ok. But doing your job doesn't usually include accompanying our women to Central Park."
"It does sometimes."
"Tell me when you last went to Central Park with women from Swan's," Ruby countered, arms folded as she watched the blonde press various buttons on their coffee machine.
Emma paused for a moment. "August 11thlast year. We went for the birthday party of Jo's youngest. Yasmin, right?"
"Fine, ok, you go to the park with our women once every eight months when there are random special occasions. But seriously, Emma, do you think this is a good idea? Can you handle this?"
"She asked, I made her a promise," Emma shrugged, walking back out of the kitchen and into her bedroom to get dressed.
"Yeah, but Ems, do you think you can deal with spending time with this woman?" The door to Emma's bedroom snapped closed but the redhead was undeterred. "The cut in my toe would beg to differ. After everything she did to you, are you sure you're ready to hang out as if nothing happened? As if she's just another woman looking for somewhere safe to stay, running away from whatever bad situation she ended up in?"
"She is another woman looking for somewhere safe to stay," came Emma's muffled response, the woman now getting dressed so she wouldn't be late. A conversation with her flatmate wasn't going to interrupt her morning routine. "I told you that my responsibility is to do my job and I'm doing my job."
Ruby sighed and leaned against the wall outside her best friend's bedroom. "Do you think you're strong enough to be what she needs after everything which has happened between you in past?"
The door flew open at that. Emma, clad in her usual white shirt and black slacks, glared at Ruby. The other woman had the good grace to look apologetic, knowing she had touched a nerve. Emma was one of the strongest women Ruby knew and as soon as the word was out of her mouth she regretted it.
"If I didn't think I was capable, I would not have assigned myself to be her primary contact. If I didn't think I was strong enough," she snarled, "I would have left you in charge of her case. I can do this, Ruby. Don't try and stop me."
"Hey, I'm not trying to stop you. I'm just looking out for you."
"Well, thanks," Emma said, setting off back to the kitchen where her perfectly bronzed toast had appeared seconds earlier. "But I don't need you to look out for me. I know what I'm doing. It's my shelter, my job, my decision."
"Ok, I'm sorry."
The dejected tone made Emma pause. Glancing up from the toast she was slathering with jam, the blonde caught the flicker of hurt on Ruby's features. It had taken her a long time to learn to read facial expressions and she still struggled on strangers, one of the features of her autism. Ruby, however, she was now beginning to be able to understand. I've been too harsh, Emma realised, based on the crease in the woman's forehead and the way her mouth drooped slightly. She's only trying to be a good friend. One, two, three, four, five, pause. One, two, three, four, five, pause.
"Hey, Rubes, I'm sorry," Emma offered, returning the butter and jam to the fridge. "I appreciate what you're doing and if it gets too much, I'll let you know. But right now, I'm fine. I can do this. In fact, I think it's something I need to do."
Ruby nodded her understanding at that. She might not know all the details of the history Emma shared with this new woman in the shelter. And she might not be able to comprehend why Emma was so determined to put herself in close proximity to a woman who had caused her such pain. But she also trusted Emma to know herself and to know her capacity. If Emma believed she could provide Regina with the support which her role required, Ruby wasn't going to question that. Emma's passion about her job meant Ruby knew that the woman would never compromise the services delivered by the shelter for any reason.
"Well, have a good day at work. I'm heading to my Granny's for the weekend. I'll be back in time for my shift tomorrow night."
Emma's mouth stopped mid-chew. "What? You didn't tell me you were going out of town." Crumbs landed on her shirt and she brushed them off.
"Yeah, sorry, last minute decision," Ruby admitted, knowing how much her roommate hated plans changing or new plans being thrust upon her. Even though Ruby's trip to New Jersey wasn't going to involve any changes to Emma's plans, the redhead would usually have told Emma as far in advance as possible that she wasn't going to be around in their shared apartment in the evening.
"Ok, well, ok. I guess that's fine." After a moment, Emma went back to working her way through the piece of toast.
Five minutes later, toast devoured and teeth brushed, Emma was downstairs unlocking and relocking their mailbox, then unlocking and relocking it once more. Ritual done, she headed out of the door and onto the quiet Saturday morning street, zipping up her jacket against the cool morning air.
Breakfast was a muted affair at the shelter for Regina and Henry. The woman nursed her cup of coffee while Henry obediently sat down and spooned cereal into his mouth. Picking up a trashy magazine which had been discarded on the breakfast bar, Regina thumbed through it absentmindedly before remembering that she hated reading shoddy journalism about B-list celebrities and tossed it aside.
"So, we're going to go to the park today," Regina told Henry when he had finished his food.
"Can Dad come too?"
Regina's heart splintered just a little bit when she saw the way her son's eyes lit up at the prospect of his father joining them. Her conflicted emotions towards the man made it hard to wrap her head around how to talk to Henry about him. With every fibre of her being, she hated him for what he did to her and Henry. But she also felt guilty for tearing Henry from his father, even if she knew she was justified in doing so. She hated that Henry missed the man, that he was pining for him, that she couldn't tell her son the truth. She felt, quite simply, sad that Henry no longer had his father in his life.
"No, sweetheart. Do you remember what we talked about last night with Emma?"
Henry nodded. "She said me and you were gonna stay here. But can Dad come and stay here too?"
"No, Henry, he can't. Dad and I aren't going to live together any more. It's just going to be me and you for a bit."
The boy looked like he was about to argue but luckily a distraction arrived in the form of Roland. "Hey Henry, wanna come play?"
"Sure," Henry said, sliding from his barstool and hurrying off with his new friend without even a backwards glance at his mother. Regina wasn't sure if she was relieved that the difficult conversation had been avoided or hurt at the way her son had just walked away. At least he has someone, Regina mused, unlike me.
At that moment, a flash of blonde hair caught her eye. Turning towards the entrance to the communal area, she saw Emma, wearing the same outfit as the day before but with a red leather jacket added to the ensemble. Her stomach flipped. She recognised that jacket.
Regina returned to her cup of coffee and drained the rest of it before picking up Henry's breakfast bowl and moving to the sink to wash up. She didn't hear Emma approaching until she was right beside her.
"Hey."
"Hi," Regina said, looking to the side to see that red jacket again. A wave of nausea rolled through her.
"How was your night?" Emma asked.
She swallowed thickly. "Ok."
"Where's Henry?" The blonde had scanned the common room when she entered and hadn't spotted Regina's son. The building was completely secure, however, so she wasn't concerned.
"Playing with Roland."
"Have you eaten breakfast yet?"
"Coffee."
"That's not food," Emma scolded gently. "You need to eat, Regina. Have you had a proper meal since you arrived?" Regina bit her lip and then shook her head. Emma sighed. "Sit down. Let me make you some toast."
"Toast?"
"It's my favourite breakfast," Emma explained, turning her back on Regina as she made her way to get what she needed from the small pantry which the shelter kept stocked with basics for any guests to use. "I eat it every day with butter and blueberry jam," she added, with those exact ingredients in her hand.
"Got any apple?"
Emma faltered in her step. Toast without blueberry jam was new for her. "Apple jam?"
"It's a thing," Regina smiled. "My mother used to make it."
"Oh, well, no we don't have any, sorry. Are you ok with blueberry?"
"Yes, that's fine. Thank you," Regina said. "In fact, Emma, I can make my own breakfast. I'm not a child." She moved off the stool which she had sat on and tried to take over but Emma gently refused, insisting that she didn't mind. Eventually, Regina acquiesced and returned to her seat, watching as the woman moved easily around the kitchen to make her breakfast. A few minutes later, two slices of toast were presented to her, liberally spread with dark blueberry jam.
"Thank you," Regina said quietly before picking up a slice.
"You're welcome. So, I've got a bit of paperwork I need to complete before I leave here. Do you know if anyone else is planning a trip into Manhattan today?"
Regina shook her head. In truth, she hadn't really spoken to any of the other women in the shelter aside from polite greetings. The place was still all very new for her and she didn't yet feel comfortable talking to, well, anyone. She knew the women around her most likely shared similar experiences but talking to them about her ordeal was too much; it was too soon. So she kept her distance, interacting only with her son and the shelter staff.
"Ok, hang on," Emma smiled, walking out from the kitchen area into the centre of the room. "Hi everyone. If I can just have your attention for a moment, please."
Regina watched, dumbfounded, as Emma addressed the room containing a dozen or so of the shelter inhabitants. The blonde teenager she remembered would never have stood up in front of a group so confidently. Regina was transfixed by the change she saw, wondering how the shy, socially awkward teen had transformed into such an accomplished, beautiful and confident adults. Perhaps it helped after she moved from Maine and she didn't have you and your gang putting her down all the time, an unhelpful voice in the back of her mind piped up. Regina felt her face colour at the shameful memory.
"We're planning a little trip into Manhattan. Central Park, in fact. If you're interested in joining, we'll be leaving here at about eleven this morning. There's no special event, just a day out with anyone who wants to come."
"What time will we be back?" one of the women asked.
"Before dinner," Emma replied. "Before dark," she added. "Anyway, no pressure. No obligation. If you're going into the city for a different reason, you're welcome to travel with us. You can also stay longer or leave earlier; it's entirely up to you. If you're in, let's meet at reception at eleven."
With that, Emma headed out of the common room, leaving the women to discuss amongst themselves whether they would go on the trip. Regina turned back to her rapidly cooling toast and forced herself to take another bite. The food felt heavy on her tongue but she knew Emma was right. She needed to eat.
December 4th 2004
The snow swirled from the sky, fat flakes adding to the already thick carpet through which she trudged. Her toes were frozen, the icy water having permeated the seams mere metres from her house. She needed to go shopping again. If she thought New York winters were bad, Maine was a whole different level of winter hell. The balmy summer and long autumn they had enjoyed had lulled them into a false sense of security but now winter was back with a vengeance. Emma was not a cold weather person. Mary Margaret had dragged her to the mall the weekend before, insisting that Emma needed some new winter clothes. The blonde had grown another couple of inches and half of her wardrobe now did not fit. Shoes, however, had been forgotten.
By the time she got to school, her teeth were chattering. Perhaps her foster mother had been right. The jacket wasn't the most sensible purchase and she definitely needed a proper winter coat. But she had fallen in love with the item the moment she had seen it in the store. Emma wasn't one for clothes but there was something about the jacket which she was drawn to. Perhaps it was the colour. Emma did love red. Perhaps it was the fact that it was one of the first 'grown-up' pieces of clothing she had owned. Perhaps it was something else. Whatever the reason, Emma relished the feeling she had got when she slipped her arms into the jacket. She felt powerful, invincible, protected.
Home room was empty when she arrived. The snow seemed to have delayed most of her classmates or distracted them into snowball fights, many of which she had dodged as she walked into the building. Taking her seat at the back in the corner, as far away from everyone else as possible, she pulled out her latest book and settled down to read as warmth slowly seeped back into her bones.
Emma had barely five minutes alone before the door to the classroom opened. She looked up, and then quickly dropped her gaze. Heels clicked across the floor. Who wore heels in this weather, Emma thought to herself? Some people put way too much store in how they looked.
"New jacket?"
Green eyes snapped up. "What?"
"Your jacket, is it new?"
Was this a trap? Where was the insult? The scathing remark? "Um, yeah."
"It suits you." With that, Regina promptly sat down in her seat and turned her back on Emma. The blonde stared at the back of her head, thunderstruck. They were the only nice words Regina Mills had ever spoken to her. Every other interaction, from her very first day at school over a year earlier, had been negative. More than negative; cruel. Fifteen months of being the bully's plaything. Regina and her cronies seemed to get pleasure from taunting and teasing Emma. But today? What was that comment about her jacket? Before Emma could analyse the interaction any further, the door opened again.
"Fuck it's cold," Zelena said, marching in and heading straight for the radiator, against which she leaned, her bare legs, usually alabaster white, pink from the cold. Why the girl insisted on wearing a mini skirt and no tights or even pantyhose in this weather was beyond human logic.
"Yeah, thanks for leaving us to get the bus, R," Vicky added. "There are dirty, poor people on there. It's gross. I think I've caught rabies."
"Mom wouldn't let me drive in the snow with anyone else in the car," Regina explained. "I'm sorry but she said it was too dangerous. And you can't catch rabies from sitting on a bus."
Vicky rolled her eyes and moved to warm herself up alongside Zelena. It was then that the two other members of Regina's group saw Emma.
"Ooh, Psycho Swan's been shopping. What's with the tacky red jacket?" Vicky asked.
Emma didn't even raise her eyes from her book. Ignoring the girls seemed to be the quickest way to make them lose interest. She'd learned that since arriving in Maine.
"Yeah it looks like it cost about five bucks from a thrift store. Is that where you got it, Swan? Some second-hand dive?"
"No, I bought it from Zara. It cost one hundred and forty-nine dollars." Her compulsion to correct inaccuracies, however, still got her into trouble.
Vicky and Zelena's eyes blew wide. Suddenly, the jacket which they'd been mocking appeared much more desirable. With a glance at one another, they stood and made their way over to Emma's desk.
"Guys, leave it," Regina said. But she made no move to stop the girls and neither of them halted their approach.
"Hmm," Vicky said, reaching out to touch the shoulder of Emma's jacket. The blonde flinched and leaned away. "It's real leather."
"It'd look good on you, Vic. Don't you think, Swan?" Zelena asked.
"I don't know much about fashion. I like reading about swans and animals and -?
"Yeah, yeah, we know, weirdo. Well, I do know about fashion and I can tell you that this jacket would look a lot better on me than it would you. I mean, let's face it, anything would look better on me over you. So, I think you should give me your jacket, don't you?"
"What?" Emma said, gawping up at the tall blonde. It wasn't as if she wasn't used to Regina and her friends taking her stuff. But until that moment it had been small items like food, stationary or the occasional book. They'd never taken anything of any real value.
"Take it off. I want it." Vicky said.
"No, it's mine."
Vicky's lip curled into a smile. "It wasn't a question, Swan. Take it off. Now."
"No," Emma snapped back.
"Give it to her, Emma."
Three sets of eyes turned to Regina, dumbstruck at the use of the blonde's first name. Emma had been called Swan or Psycho Swan or weirdo or any other derogatory term the trio could think up since day one. But they'd never called her Emma. Vicky and Zelena looked curiously at their friend, confused not only as to why Regina wasn't joining them but also why she had addressed the girl so politely. Well, as polite as she could be considering she was ordering her to hand over the jacket. Emma, too, was thoroughly confused. But there was something in the teenager's words that made her heed the command.
Slowly, she shrugged off her jacket, left only in a thin sweater. She was going to get hypothermia on the way home from school. Vicky snatched the article out of her hands and tossed aside her own coat to don Emma's.
"How do I look?" she asked, twirling around.
"Fabulous," Zelena exclaimed, giving her friend a round of applause.
Without a backwards glance, they trounced off to their seats as the rest of their class began to arrive. Emma just sat there, humiliated, cold and angry. Before she picked up her discarded book, she noticed big brown eyes on her. She avoided the gaze, knowing they'd be filled with distain. But as she settled back in her chair, she couldn't help but glance at Regina and the look she faced shocked her. Was that sadness?
By the time Emma got home that night she was wet through from the tumbling snow. Her fingers were turning blue and her cheeks burned with the pain of the cold. She hurried up the shovelled path to the house, stamping snow off her boots on the porch as her numb fingers fumbled the key into the lock. As soon as it was open, she threw herself inside, the heat enveloping her like a hug. Just before she shut the door, she noticed a package on the bench in their porch. Grabbing the bag, she slammed the door, tossed the item on the side table and hurried upstairs to take a hot shower.
It was only half an hour later when she returned to the hallway, finally feeling human again, that she went to investigate the mysterious package on the porch. Looking into the bag, her heart skipped a beat. She reached in and pulled out the jacket, holding it up before her. Had Vicky given it back? No, Emma realised. This jacket had the tags on it. It was new. Someone had bought her a new jacket to replace the one which had been taken from her that morning. Looking into the bag, Emma searched for a note but came up empty. Only three other people knew that Emma had been robbed of her new jacket though. Regina, Zelena and Vicky.
If you had asked Emma that morning which of those girls was willing to drop one hundred and forty-nine dollars on her, she would have said none of them and laughed. But now? Well, she still couldn't believe it but out of the three teenagers who had been present that morning, there as only one who might, just might, have done this.
Walking slowly back upstairs, the jacket held loosely in her hands, she went straight to her room and stowed the item in the back of her wardrobe. Vowing never to wear the jacket to school again, Emma returned to the living room and settled at the small desk her father had built to do her homework.