Guest Reviews

Guest 1 (x3): First, thank you for reviewing so many times. It helped me get to 100 reviews quicker. Second, I rather suggest that you read the story in its entirety before you judge based on the one chapter. Many of your concerns have already been addressed.

BossLady: You, my lovely, are my 100th review! *throws confetti* Thank you so much, sweetie! I'm always happy to see a review from you! *hugs*

Guest 2: Thank you so much!

gremma shoelace (x2): Oh, links don't ever appear on FFnet, unfortunately! Luckily, I know what you're talking about. It's so great to see these things Jen kept around on set for Graham! And please know that my askbox is always open for anon on tumblr, since I update so sporadically here!

Title: Storm
Rating: K
Summary: There's a storm raging, and Emma is not the only one who worries.
Notes: Redefining Home verse. Based off a prompt from gremma shoelace on FFnet. "Emma and Henry discuss the curse and Regina etc. after getting their memories back." Majorly Swan Believer-based, with hints of gremma and hunted believer. They needed a moment.

The windows shuddered, the echoing boom of the late summer storm an overzealous punctuation to Emma's sigh.

She turned in her bed, listening to the pounding of the rain. She ran her teeth over her lip once, twice before finally giving in and checking her phone once more.

No messages.

Emma grimaced and laid flat on her back. She rubbed her temples, trying to remind herself that no news wasn't bad news.

Suddenly, her bedroom door clicked open, and her heart thundered with anticipation.

She released a low breath when only Henry entered, his hair messy and his eyes droopy. He crawled into bed beside her, and curled into her carefully.

"Hey, kid," she murmured, then pushed back the dark tresses that got in her face. She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. "Storm keeping you up?"

He shrugged as he buried his face in her neck. "Kinda."

She smiled slightly, feeling the tight coil of anticipation in her stomach begin to disperse somewhat. The closeness was familiar and soothing, and she knew it likely helped him as well. "You used to be scared of the thunder," she commented matter-of-factly.

He hesitated a long time before responding. "Yeah." Short and flat, just like before.

Emma's brow furrowed, and she pulled back a bit to look at his face. "What's up?"

His lashes flicked the tops of his cheeks, avoiding her eye. "It feels like how it used to be," he whispered, his tone almost unsure, betraying his words.

She nodded, and resting her palm on his cheek. "I know. But you take up a lot more room now than when you were two," she joked softly.

He gave a wavering smile in response, and Emma felt her chest tighten uncomfortably. He looked lost.

"Kid," she said gently, lovingly, as a way to reassure even though her heartrate had increased again. "What is it?"

He swallowed. "It wasn't real."

It took her a moment to understand, and once she did she felt like she had been shot in the gut. Her eyes widened as a bright lash of pain ripped through her, panic climbing in response to his words. "Henry … do you mean … do you mean us?"

He sniffed and nodded. "When I got scared for real, there was no one. She … she didn't have time, I guess. I just had my nightlight and my books. That—that was real life."

"No, Henry," she said firmly. Her stomach tightened as she pictured her tiny kid, clutched in her arms, how scared and desperate for comfort he had been. How Regina could have ignored those big eyes and quivering chin … she would never understand that. Her head hurt thinking about it. "No. It was real. Both are."

A part of her, the deepest darkest part, questioned her own words. Was that life real? That life she spent with her son, with friends as close as family, all the struggles and accomplishments? A part of her insisted, yes, it had to be real, because she still had those friends, still had her degree and career.

But Henry … Henry who knew, Henry whose life was still tainted by those years in the never-ending cycle of Regina's curse … how could their life together be real when they knew the other side of it?

Henry released a tremulous breath that might have been a sob. "But –"

Emma's heart sank to hear the dejection in his voice. For him, she steeled herself. "Do you remember it?" Emma asked.

Henry looked up with wet eyes. "Yeah."

Emma stared down at him seriously, and pet back his hair. Suddenly, it was easy.

It had to be real. She knew that expression on his face, and not from the months knowing him in Storybrooke. She knew that look from when she comforted him after he first failed his science test, and when she insisted he get back on the bike after his skinned knees healed. She knew that look from their life together, and had learned how to comfort and love him the way he needed.

She nodded sharply. "Do you remember not just how it was, but how you felt?"

His eyes bounced across her face skittishly before finally nodding. "Yeah."

Emma smiled a little brokenly. "Then how can't it be real, too?"

He nodded hastily, and buried his head into her once more. Her arms went around him, pulling him close. "I love you, mom," he murmured.

"I love you, too, kid," she replied, kissing his head. Softer, she reiterated, "that's how I know."

Henry looked up with a small smile, but there was still worry attached to it. "Nothing can separate us, right?"

"Nothing," she vowed. "If curses and vortexes and demon-boys couldn't, what could?"

He looked away sharply, and her throat tightened once more. "But—"

"You know I'd fight for you. With everything in me, forever. Nothing will keep me away from you," she swore.

"I know," he said, a smile playing across his lips. His frown came back almost immediately. "But what about Graham?"

Graham. She had been able to push her worries for him back while comforting her son.

"I know he's your true love, and I know he loves us both, and I know he doesn't want to leave. But last time, he left. He didn't have a choice," Henry went on.

She bit down hard on her lip. Henry was voicing her worst fears for her boyfriend. "He has his heart back," she said hoarsely.

"I know," he replied quickly. "And Regina can't get to him again. But even you're worried for him, mom."

She grimaced. "Yeah, I'm worried for him," she said honestly. She didn't want to lie to him, not ever again. "We don't know how he came back, so I'm worried. His job is dangerous, so I'm worried. But I can't let the worry rule me."

"You're not telling me not to worry," he murmured curiously.

She chuckled dryly. "No, I'm not. I can't ask you not to worry when I've been glued to my phone ever since he was called in. But he's back, and he's with us. That should count for something."

Henry gave a half smile. "Maybe—never mind," he said, turning away.

A flash of light lit him briefly and Emma leaned over his form curiously. "Maybe what?"

He looked up. "Sometimes I'm worried he won't come back when he goes to his apartment. That he'll just … disappear, just as quick as he reappeared."

"I get that," Emma replied. She's had similar fears.

"Could we, maybe, ask him to live here?" he asked in a small voice.

She cocked her head to the side. "You'd want that?" she asked. She had recently been feeling the words on her tongue whenever he left at night, itching to invite him to stay. She had wanted Henry's permission first, and had been too anxious to broach the topic.

He nodded. "We said we should stick together. We should try to be together as much as possible, just in case."

"I don't want to ask him if you're just scared to lose someone else. If he were to move in, I want it to be because we all want to."

Henry's eyebrows rose. "I want him here," he said, his tone leaving no doubt. "In the other life … well, I knew him all of that life. And he was good to me, but we didn't get many chances to get closer. I like that I have the chance, now."

Emma smiled. "If you're sure …."

He grinned. "I'm sure."

Emma mirrored his grin, throwing an arm over him. "I think we should invite him over for breakfast tomorrow, then. Get him used to our Sunday mornings before we ask."

"Yeah," he breathed, tiredness filling his tone. "That sounds good."

A buzz from behind her shifted her focus, and she grabbed the phone off her nightstand. [Just got home], it read.

Emma chuckled softly, and rested her head on her son's. [We'll see], she replied. [Come to breakfast tomorrow.]