Guest Comments
BossLady: Thank you so much! I think there was definitely some teasing from Andie, at the very least! I really just like the idea of Henry being so much more stable now than he was in Storybrooke, and how that will effect going back.
Gremma Shoelace: Oo, I like it! Will be on the list. I hope you enjoy this one! I promise I will get back to Wilding eventually, but this verse is currently sucking me in!
Title: The More Things Change
Summary: Following Changes, Graham and Emma settle into Storybrooke.
Note: Prompted from Gremma Shoelace re: the dwarves and Marco finding out, and posted during the Gremma Appreciation Week. We had a huge turn-out for the occasion, see profile for what went on!
Being back in Storybrooke was a strange thing.
The air was cool, a light mist casting a pale grey over the early dawn of morning. Everything looked just the same: same storefronts, newspaper bins, mailboxes, flower beds, everything. Nothing changes in Storybrooke, and it seemed as if even after the curse broke, reset, and recast that remained true.
Graham tugged a hand through his hair, stepping out from the lobby of Granny's. Hidden in the tucked away corner, Emma stood with her arms crossed in front of her, squinting into the sun. Henry was still asleep, not quite used to waking up before eight during the summer, but Emma had tossed and turned all night.
For once, he knew it had nothing to do with the baby.
He took another glance across the landscape, jaw clenching slightly. He knew it was going to be unsettling, going to this town where he'd spent twenty-eight years in a fog before being murdered. He had thought he'd prepared himself well for it despite this. However, being a newly-resurrected former Black Knight in the eyes of the townsfolk was quite a bit different than just being the husband of the blonde visiting with the Nolans, as he assumed he'd be seen as until the curse broke.
Seeing Granny and Red the night previous had been fine. Red at least knew about his will to keep the Charming family safe while he was in the cage of Regina's castle. The rest could only view him as he had had to portray himself; that was a scary premise.
He sighed, tucking his chin into Emma's neck and splaying his hands wide over her belly. She leaned her head against his.
"You okay?" she murmured gently.
"Yeah. Just … strange," he mumbled. They swayed together, watching the foot traffic from the shade. No one had noticed them quite yet, and he was loath to leave the protective embrace he was giving his wife and child. "Not going to be too many glad to see me back."
She turned her head, confusion written on her features. "You were damn well liked, Graham. I don't think you're going to get any more people upset about your existence than Regina."
He looked down, patterns tracing across her stomach. "Maybe as Sheriff I was liked, sometimes. Not as the man I was before," he explained.
She looked down thoughtfully, spreading her hands over his. "That wasn't your fault, what happened then." She brushed against his ring, straightening it. "Besides, you're married to their Savior," she said, with some amount of bitterness at the label.
"Worried about it?" he asked at her tone. She shrugged, and he carefully placed a kiss to her temple. "They don't just love you because of the moniker, princess," he replied warmly.
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, there's that title, too. Besides, you're father of the next little royal, so they'll have to get used to you eventually."
"Looks like I lost my job, though," he commented as David waved from across the street. The gleaming six-pointed star at his waist proved that as he jogged over the intersection.
"You get better benefits as a detective," Emma said dryly.
"Hey, even my deputy got dental in Storybrooke," Graham teased, to which Emma smirked. Carefully, he extracted himself from her, though her hand entwined with his.
David's face was openly nervous as he finally reached them. "Hey, guys! I wanted to meet up with you both before you went into town," David said.
"Make sure I don't give the citizens of Storybrooke a heart attack?" Graham asked, then grimaced and placed a hand over his heart. "Poor choice of words."
David frowned. "Yeah, well, it's still going to be a problem to get the word around. We need to make sure people don't assume you're some trick of the evil that sent us here or something."
Graham's brow furrowed, nodding. Honestly, that wasn't the thing he would be most worried about. Fear of him being something he's not was one thing; fear of being the person he was, he anticipated being more damaging. Emma seemed to sense the turn of his thought as she squeezed his hand.
"Ideas, then?" she asked, squaring her shoulders. Her eyes glinted with a flash of steel, the protectiveness he recognized from the night before.
David nodded. "We need to make an announcement of some sort. Tell people that you three are back, so they're not blindsided. We don't need panic."
"Emma?"
The three turned to the sudden bolt of a young red-headed child throwing himself at his wife. The boy held her across the waist, tears shining in his eyes. "You came to save us," he murmured gently.
Emma's eyes were wide, and she half turned to Graham with a bewildered look before returning to the child. "Au—"
"Son, why are you disturbing these people?" a heavily accented voice asked, merriment and exasperation apparent even before he turned the corner.
Something warmed within Graham, to remember the gentle prodding of the older man who would volunteer to do paperwork with him on lonely evenings before Emma came. He had been such a calm presence, a balm in between Regina's requests. Someone to banter with, like an older relative that doesn't judge or act rudely; more than an acquaintance, but the curse preventing them from becoming friends.
"Marco," Graham breathed finally, a smile stretching across his face.
The older man glanced up from his son, his eyes widening. He looked over to the other adults before settling on him again. "Graham, my boy, you're alive?"
The endearment slid across him like a warm cloak, the lingering fear that the people he bonded with during the curse would hold him accountable for the things done in his past melting away. He barely managed a nod before Marco embraced him, patting his back fondly. He pulled away with a grin.
"I know enough not to ask how these things happen: just to be glad that they did," Marco stated, placing a hand atop the ginger boy's head. "My son, Pinocchio. Say 'hello' to the former Sheriff."
The boy ducked his head back shyly before peeking around. "Hi," he said in a small voice. Then, in a voice common to children thinking they're whispering, "I thought Mr. Nolan was the Sheriff."
"I am. But Emma was before me, and Graham before her," David supplied.
Graham grinned, only half noting the stunned look on Emma's face. "It's good to meet you," he replied. He didn't remember seeing the kid around town, but he felt it was best not to ask.
Marco's eyes flicked back between Emma and him, amusement apparent in the spark. "Ah, so you have brought your family, I see? Miss Swan no longer?" he pressed.
Emma's eyes rolled up before she finally gave in, resting the length of her side against him. "Swan-Humbert. Henry's the same," she explained, her lip quirking up slightly.
"And are we keeping the little one a secret for now?" he asked knowingly.
His mouth parted, and Emma sucked in a small breath before cupping her belly. "Dammit, you can tell?" she asked, turning toward the glass entrance of Granny's, stretching her shirt across her stomach in different angles.
Marco was chuckling to the side, hiding it beneath his palm. "I have been around a long time, my dear. Do not worry, me and my son keep to ourselves, anyway," he said. He tipped his hat and took the boy's hand, twisting them around. "Congratulations, though. May your return only bring you happiness."
"And to you," Graham returned quickly, an old habit of their goodbyes. He turned to Emma who was still grumbling to herself. "Well, one down."
She sighed and returned to his side. "Two, really. Damn, it's still weird to see August."
"Oh, that's August," Graham said, a frown tugging down the corner of his lips. He tried not to take the mistakes of the older version to heap upon this young boy, and finally shrugged off the notion.
"Well, we can use Marco's help. And Granny and Red's. Between all of us, I think we can—"
"Sheriff?"
All three turn to the voice, only to be met by the wide eyes of Leroy.
David held up his hands. "Now, Leroy, don't—"
"HUGE NEWS, EVERYONE!" Leroy shouted, running to the diner at break-neck speed.
Graham blinked, the whole thing going too fast to even truly comprehend. He met Emma's eye in disorientation, then David's.
David sighed, rubbing his temples. "Damage control. My advice? Go back to bed," he stated, jogging into the diner after the short man. "Leroy, could you just let me explain …?"
Graham blew out a low breath. "Should we go in?"
Emma shook her head. "I say we take David's advice. I'm pregnant, I get to make these decisions for us."
Graham chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers lovingly. "Avoidance?"
She shook her head. "Postponement. Let's get breakfast with our son."
That, more than anything else, relaxed his whole body. This was still his family. Any changes to the group, any dangers, any judgment … it meant nothing compared to these four people that were as essential to him as any limb. "I'm not usually one to procrastinate, but I think I'll take you up on it this once."
She flashed a smile. "It's going to work out, isn't it?" she asked lowly.
He squeezed her hand, trying to smile as his heart cracked along the edges at the brokenness in her tone. "As a team."
She nodded. "So, let's get the kid out of bed. We can order room service."