Guest Comments
Jennifer Baratta: Thank you so much! I'm always happy to see your comments, and I am glad you're still enjoying!
Title: 4am
Summary: Emma uses the second of quiet to think about the changes and consequences.
Note: Post Relatives. Quite frankly, this involves an idea that I've had from the beginning, and walked back and forth on a few times. I've finally committed to it, and now I think the plot can move forward again :D This also vaguely addresses farmgirlusa's prompt about Maggie (why she doesn't know quite yet).
Emma woke to steady kicks against her bladder, a groan torn from her throat as she blinked awake.
Graham was snoring softly beside her, dark curls messy against his forehead and sleep tugging the stress from his face nicely. Despite the urgency, she moved her hand across the stubble of his jaw slowly, lips curving as she took in his peaceful expression. He stirred gently, but didn't wake.
With everything that was crashing down on them in Storybrooke, it was nice to find him so unguarded and content. He tended to always have an edge to him, the protectiveness bleeding over into body language through tension. She leaned up and placed a soft kiss against the faint freckles on his cheek before their daughter demanded her attention again with another hit to her internal organs.
She turned to catch the green glow-in-the-dark light of the old clock on the nightstand. The large hand only just crept past the 12, little stuck on 4. She huffed in displeasure, and glared down at her middle. "You will not make me a morning person," she mumbled at the bump and then rocked to get to sitting.
She got up with some difficulty, frowning at the idea of getting bigger and nearing another week of pregnancy in this place. She missed home, missed the advice from her group of friends, even missed the blunt Dr. Swanson. She really only had Mary Margaret to talk to here, at least until Maggie showed, and the only medical person available was Whale. Not ideal.
She used the bathroom quickly, then stepped out toward the pull-out bed by the window. Her son was breathing heavily, arm stretched above his head and lips parted, shadows obscuring his features just enough. She placed a hand over her stomach and sighed softly. She forgot sometimes how much he could look like Neal, her heart aching at the thought.
As conflicted as her feelings were, she had loved Neal at one point. It wasn't like how she loved now, but it was something so … consuming for her sixteen year old self, the one that had never had anyone. It was the reason she'd lived two years in Tallahassee in that first life, the reason Maggie had had to help her so much in this one. She had cared, and she still remembered that feeling. She even cared now, in a different way. Of course she did; he had helped give her her son.
And now he was dead.
And she had been the one to deal the final blow.
"Help me, Emma. Use your magic."
Her stomach churned, and she placed a hand on the wood frame of the window to let a few sparks fly across the fading wallpaper. Her heart wrenched, and the baby twisted inside her, affected by her distress.
She didn't know how to deal with this. If it had been like she told Maggie, an accident she'd only witnessed … maybe then it would be easier. Instead, she had to live knowing that she had helped to kill her son's father. Neal had made sure that she would never be able to move from that.
It ripped through her with anger as much as pain. She had had that premonition, that gut feeling, when he had left the hospital. She knew that she would never see him the same again. The reality had been far worse than she had anticipated.
She swallowed thickly and rested her head on the paneling, looking down solemnly at Henry. Henry was hurting so much, too. In a different way, but also in an angry way. And like her, he wasn't going to have the time to grieve this properly, at least not yet. Not with Zelena still out there.
Was Neal only the first loss in this battle? Even once Zelena was gone, they still had to contend with Regina. She also had no doubts that there were others lurking about this fairytale, more who would want to seize power or whatever they thought they were owed.
Who was to say what could be lost before they reached Manhattan again?
She felt his presence before he slipped an arm around her, face burying into her neck. "This is early for you," he murmured sleepily into her skin.
She leaned back into him, and covered his arms with a shiver. Despite her feelings, she relaxed into his embrace. "Don't get used to it."
She felt his smile, and he dropped a kiss to her shoulder. "I know you better than that. What's got you up, then?"
She felt the depth in his words through their careful placement. She shook her head. "It's your kid's fault. Had to pee."
"So why aren't you back in bed?" he pressed.
She sighed heavily. She was silent a moment, and he let her be. She breathed him in deeply, trying to comfort herself before replying. "I don't know. I think it's just all … settling."
He hummed a response and took her hand in his. He brushed a thumb over her ring and held her closer. "No shame in that."
She felt a lump in her throat and nodded with a jerk. A single tear fell down her face, and she blew out a sharp breath. "I don't know that I'll ever come to terms with it. He made me separate them, and because of that he died. I took away Henry's chance to know him and—I could have found another way."
"Emma," he said sharply. She looked away but could feel the heat of his gaze. "You did not kill him. You did what was needed. If anyone's to blame—"
"I know," she barked out, then leveled her tone when she saw Henry shift. "But it doesn't help knowing."
Graham slumped into her, letting her realize how much tension he'd been in. Shadows swept across his face, and a sharp realization hit her. He knew. He absolutely knew what she was feeling. Years of being forced to do horrible things against your will – he knew.
She brought her hands up to his face, softly tracing across his skin in a way she hoped was soothing. She grit her teeth and swallowed back another sob. How much more did this feeling permeate in him? She shuddered and pressed her forehead into his shoulder. "How do I get past it?" she asked hoarsely.
Gentler, he brushed back her hair. She looked up at him. His face was grim, but his eyes were soft. "By keeping Henry safe. And the twins."
She studied the grey tracks in the blue of his eyes, carefully piecing through them. She recognized the rest of his answer: he wasn't past it. It wouldn't disappear. She knew already that he had his days, his nightmares, and now wondered how often she'd have hers.
She hoped she could make peace with that.
She leaned on tiptoes to rest her forehead on his, and then pressed. "Zelena … I don't even know that she scares me. She's just another in a long line of threats that I've—we've faced. As much as we've fought, they keep coming."
He pulled her closer, low breath expelled over her skin. "It seems to always be that way, doesn't it?" he murmured. "A never-ending line of villains. But at the end of the day, it always come back to two people."
She shut her eyes and nodded. "Regina. And Gold."
'Yes," he said wearily.
She was quiet a moment. She placed her hands on either side of her belly, cradling their baby between her palms. "We need an escape plan," she murmured. She raised her eyes to his, and then grabbed his hand to rest over her stomach. Their daughter shifted, rolling between their shared touch. "I don't want to involve her in all this. Hell, I don't want Henry involved, but that's moot at this point."
He slowly rubbed her arm up and down. "Maybe Maggie's the rabbit hole," he considered.
She let out a low breath. "Our way out?"
"Our way out quickly," Graham clarified. "We can use her as an excuse to get home. No one here is comfortable with her hanging around, anyway."
She didn't like the idea of using Maggie like that, but she had to admit … it was clean. Even those extra villains lurking … surely they'd want to see the outsider leave? "It's a good plan," she admitted. "Unless she gets too interested in what's going on here. You know her. You know she's too good at reading people, too good with unraveling secrets."
"But she's also rational. She's not going to jump to 'magic and fairytales must be real,'" he said, a smile tweaking his lips.
"What if we just told her?"
Emma and Graham snapped to face the bed, finding Henry squinting blearily up at them. Emma bit her lip. "Kid … we can't."
"Why not?" he said stubbornly, wiping his face of sleep as he sat up. "She's family."
"Oh, kid," she sighed, and dropped to sit on the bed. She brushed back his hair and touched his forehead with hers briefly before pulling back. "I know. I want her to know, too. Sometimes really badly. But it's safer if she doesn't know."
"Is it?" he asked.
She and Graham shared a look, and she hesitated a moment. "For now, yes."
Henry rolled back to his pillow, expression dark and thoughtful.
Graham reached out and grabbed his shoulder to get his attention, and Henry looked up with glassy eyes. "If it's ever a problem for her not knowing, we'll tell her, Henry. But for now, Zelena and … and Regina. They are being subtle because she doesn't know."
He had a stubborn set to his jaw, but nodded anyway. "But if that changes?"
"If we can keep her safe by telling her, Henry, we will," Emma agreed firmly.
He sighed, looking pale in the dark of pre-dawn. The shadows had shifted, and she no longer saw Neal in him: she just saw her kid. He rubbed his eyes again, and turned to face the clock. "It's early," he commented.
Graham chuckled and picked his weight off the window frame. "We can let you get back to sleep."
He peered curiously at her. "Why are you awake?" he asked.
She shrugged and placed a hand on her stomach. "Guess your sister wanted me up for this talk," she said.
Three knocks sounded in quick succession on the door, firm and loud. Graham frowned and was the first to react, stepping towards the entrance in long strides. Emma turned to face the door, and swung an arm around Henry protectively.
"Oh, hey," Graham said once the door swung open. He relaxed visibly, and so did she. "Morning,"
Maggie strode in and gave her a quick nod. She was in the same clothes from yesterday evening, though they didn't have that rumpled look of being slept in. Her eyes were dark, lashes swept with a quick stroke of mascara to make her look more awake. Her dark hair was pulled back into a usual bun, but loose curls fell from the typical tight knot.
"Jesus, Mags, did you even sleep?" Emma remarked, the look of her making her even more tired.
She raised a brow and didn't respond. "Good, you're awake. You need to come downstairs."
Emma frowned and rose. "What, Maggie, it's barely 4:30 in the—"
"Just come," Maggie said, and reached to the chair to toss her a coat. She looked at Henry, and finally slowed. "Or at least choose who's coming with me and who's staying with the kid."
Graham was already pulling on his own coat. "Please, I'm the only morning person in this family," he quipped, and then silently checked with her. She dropped her head in a nod and she leaned against Henry again. He turned to Maggie. "What's wrong?"
"I found the midwife."
Her blood ran cold. She was off searching on her own all night? Maybe it was better if Maggie knew about the situation, if she was going off on her own against all these damn magical beings. "Were you seriously—"
"She's dead," she said without preamble, and then her shoulders slumped when she caught Henry's stare. She shook her head. "Just come downstairs. I found her outside, in the woods just a few yards from the B&B. I found her … encased in a block of ice," Maggie said, disbelief still touching her tone.
When she swung her eyes up to Graham, he was already looking at her. "Ice?" she asked.
Maggie nodded. "Which means we either had the strangest cold snap in history, in a tiny isolated spot the size of one human being, or we have a really creative killer on our hands."
Or a magical one.
Emma shivered. Just when she thought that finding Zelena would be the catalyst to go home, something new comes before she can even think about using her friend as an escape.
Someone was willing to kill Zelena in a destructively magical way, one that would garner questions from the outsider. Which meant that someone didn't care.
Which also meant that Maggie was in more danger than they all first suspected.