Chapter Warning: A character experiences a panic attack this chapter.
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who is reviewing the story! I really appreciate it! I also did not realize that was getting rid of my line breaks, which must have made reading a little difficult. I've gone through and replaced the dashed lines that were supposed to be there with the horizontal line.
[The Neverland]
Killian had never been so close to losing Liam in his life. They had been through storms, shipwrecks, and separations but Killian had never been afraid that his brother wouldn't make it. Liam was invincible. He was fierce and protective and brave and honorable. He was a hero. He was a monument whose shadow Killian stood in. When Killian tried to see the top of the monument, to see his brother, he was blinded by the sunlight that shone behind it.
His brother was a giant.
Until he wasn't.
"No! No! NO! Come on. Liam!" He yelled at him. He told him not to trust the king. To listen to the boy from the island, but Liam's faith in the king outweighed his faith in his brother.
"More people die than necessary because they won't believe the locals."
Go fuck yourself Emma.
His voice was breaking as he begged his brother to speak, to say anything. "Hey! Hey!" Killian kept shaking him, hoping that he'd wake so he could curse him, curse the king.
"Let's get you back to the ship." Can he carry him? He's never had to before. He recalled Emma carrying him across her shoulders. "It's called a fireman's carry." Emma was so small, if she could carry him, then he could carry his brother.
Attempting to mimic Emma's movements from memory Killian hefted his brother up and across his shoulders.
"I tried to warn you." The boy sauntered through the brush, looking smug. "He'll die as soon as the poison reaches his heart."
The boy is from the Neverland, he's their best chance. "Please." It was a plead. It was a whisper. It was a cry. "He's my brother. He's all I have left."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have goaded him into it."
He had, hadn't he? He hadn't meant to. Oh god, he's killed his brother. "He's so stubborn. I didn't meant to. Can you help me?" Killian felt small and helpless, like the lost and vulnerable boy he still was. Liam had always protected him from too much.
"Please, can you help me?"
The boy sighed as if this was the last thing he wanted to do. "Well, I might not feel like it, but today's your lucky day. There is a way to stop him from dying."
"Tell me."
Killian felt his body being pulled apart. He couldn't feel Liam on top of him nor the ground beneath him, when suddenly all of those sensations came back as quickly as they had gone.
They stood in a different spot, transported by magic. "This spring… these waters are rich with the powers of the Neverland. It's what keeps this land and all on it so… young. If one was to drink directly from it, it could cure any ill."
But… I must warn you. All magic comes with a price, and that spring is no exception. Don't leave the island unless you're willing to pay for it."
Killian didn't care. He didn't care about a price. He cared about his brother. He couldn't lose him. Hurriedly, he sat Liam down to scoop water from the spring. "Whatever you want, it's yours."
Gingerly he gave Liam the water, pleasepleaseplease.
His eyes began to open, he barely croaked out "Brother?"
Liam's eyes shot opened, "Brother!"
They embraced, both excited to have more time with the other. The Jones brothers left the dreamshade behind, looking for the boy who they owed a price. Killian wanted to stay and find him, but Liam grew impatient when they could not find him and wanted to return to their kingdom to confront their king.
"Pay for it." The boy had said.
Killian was just relieved to still have his brother.
They returned to their ship despite Killian's protests.
"How are you feeling?" He asked Liam in his cabin.
"Shipshape." Liam was watching himself in the mirror, making himself proper for his crew. Killian was boring holes into his back, anxiety riddling his body. What would he do without his brother? Emma had told him he was lucky to have family, but she had also warned him that it sounded like he relied on him too much.
Killian had brushed her off.
He shouldn't have because he was terrified- What would I do without you?
Liam sighed, "Killian… I should have listened to you."
Killian didn't care that he was right, "I'm just glad you survived."
"Don't leave the island." Tickled in Killian's mind.
He shook it off.
He shouldn't have.
"What now, brother?"
"We reveal the king's cowardice." Liam told him with conviction.
An image of Emma throwing her head back laughing flashed across Killian's eyes. She had been laughing at a storing he was telling about Liam. "Your brother seriously sounds like a self-righteous asshat, dude."
What would she say to Liam now? The girl who was so much like them? Thrown away, abandoned, but alone.
So alone from the start.
Killian had never really been alone.
"Well, let's hope the realm sides with us." Was the only response Killian could muster.
"Oh, they will. To fight battles with unholy weapons is, as you say, bad form."
Killian reached for Liam's collar, straightening it as he said, "Aye. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, brother." And he meant it, he couldn't be alone.
Liam moved to embrace him when the call came down to prepare for landing in their realm.
Instead of embracing him, Liam collapsed into him.
"Liam? Liam? Liam! No! Liam!" Killian was cradling his brother against his chest, attempting to untie his cravat. "Help!"
But it was too late.
His brother was dead in his arms.
The monument became a ruin.
After the crying passed, Killian felt empty. He held Liam in his arms until the crew plied him from his embrace. He didn't fight them, but there was something simmering in him beneath the surface. He was aware that Liam was gone, that he was giving orders for his funeral, but he could feel none of it but that slow, burning stew. Those hours meant nothing until he heard the splash of his brother's body hitting the water and a crewman was handing him Liam's sextant. "This belongs to you now, captain."
You will never leave my side, brother.
The simmer boiled over and he felt pure rage.
"We are sworn to serve the king and the realm. They sent us to retrieve an unthinkable poison, one that killed our dear captain!" Liam. "Never again shall anyone set sail to that cursed land! And never again shall we take such orders… serving the king, fighting his wars!" Emma again flashed in his mind. "That is the way of dishonor! And all you who disagree, flee now or walk the bloody plank! For those who stay will be free men, and I will be your captain. We'll sail under the crimson flag and we'll give our enemies no quarter. We'll take what we please! And we'll live by our own rules… for that is the best form of all!"
Down with the king, up with the jolly.
"Long live captain Jones!"
"This belongs to you now, captain."
[Storybrooke]
Graham had given them the rest of the day to prepare for Regina before telling her that night of his resignation.
Emma had expected Regina to call and berate her, to blame her for Graham leaving the force, but instead the phones were silent that night and no one came knocking on her door. Even James remained undisturbed.
The calm continued. James was uncertain of becoming sheriff and had insisted that they give Graham the allotted two weeks before he was automatically promoted to sheriff.
Emma thought he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it did when the two weeks were up.
When they arrived at the station two weeks later James threw his keys onto what was Graham's desk and picked up the sheriff badge. Emma watched him fumble to put it on with one hand and frowned when she realized that it was difficult for him. Their deputy badges were made to go onto a belt where they slipped on.
Just when James seemed to have figured it out and was about to put it on, Regina greeted them with a, "Oh, I'm sorry. That's not for you."
"It's been two weeks– promotion is automatic." Emma reminded her.
"Unless the mayor appoints someone else within the time period, which I'm doing today."
James stayed silent, clutching his badge. Emma asked her, "So, who's it going to be?"
"After due reflection– Sidney Glass." She was proud, gloating at usurping Killian's right.
James cut in, "Sidney from the newspaper? How does that even make sense?"
"Well, he's covered the Sheriff's Office for as long as anyone can remember."
"That doesn't make the man qualified, Madam Mayor." James insisted.
Emma narrowed her eyes, "And he'll do whatever you want him to. You just cannot stand the fact that things have been getting better around here."
"Better? Are you referring to Graham's resignation as 'better'? He is ill Miss Swan."
"No."
James stood beside her, "I believe you're taking Emma's words out of context."
Regina turned to James, "Graham is a good man, Jones. He made this town safe, and forgive me for saying it, but you have not earned the right to wear his badge."
"I have been Graham's deputy for years, Madam Mayor. If anyone has 'earned' this job, it is me."
"You were nothing but a mistake in the system." Emma bristled at her words, the insult raising her ire. But was it true? Was Killian's position in the curse a mistake?
"No, Graham knew exactly what he was doing. He freed this office from your leash. You're not getting it back."
Reaching forward and plucking the badge from James' hand, Regina said, "Actually, I just did. You're both fired."
Mary Margaret came home to find James and Emma taking apart her toaster.
"Something wrong with the toaster?"
James bites out an angry "No."
Emma tells her, "It wasn't when we started. Pretty sure it is now. Just needed to hit something." This was accompanied by James cursing at the butter knife he had jammed into it.
"What's going on?"
"Regina fired us so she could put her own puppets in the Sheriff's Office." Emma bit out at her.
"And it's our bloody job!"
Mary Margaret blinked at them in silence, slowing sitting down on a barstool. "What happened?"
"I don't know," James sighed. "I just know I want it back."
"There must be a reason."
Emma deflated next to James, "Maybe I just want to beat her." It's been months in Storybrooke and she's only made minor progress on the curse. She found her parents, her son, and Killian, but aside from Henry it isn't really them.
And it wasn't enough. It felt like her life was on hold and she was ready to press the 'play' button.
A knocking came from the door then and upon opening it Emma found Mr. Gold standing there with a large binder under his arm.
"Good evening, Miss Swan. Sorry for the intrusion. There's something I'd like to discuss with you." And spying James and Mary Margaret peering at them behind her he said, "Alone."
"We'll let you two talk." Mary Margaret said, and grabbing a narrow-eyed and suspicious looking James and the toaster they moved upstairs.
"Come on in."
"Thank you. I, uh… heard about what happened. Such an injustice."
Emma made a non committal response before saying, "Shouldn't James be down here too? He was also hurt by the 'injustice.'" Now that she thought about it, this is the first time Emma has seen Gold and James even be in the same room. Did they avoid each other as a holdover from pre-curse days? Or, Emma suspected, was Gold really cursed at all?
Gold sneered, "Yes. I suppose you're right. But I was thinking more of yourself, dearie."
"And I'm thinking of my team, which is James and I. If you want this conversation to continue he needs to come downstairs."
Gold tapped his cane against the ground and begrudgingly told Emma that she was right.
They starred in silence until Emma asked, "Well? Don't you think you should invite him down? You are the one who requested this meeting."
He bared his teeth and called up, "Mister Jones, you should be a part of this conversation." Upon James coming downstairs he continued, "I was just telling Miss Swan here what an injustice it is for Regina to fire her."
Petulantly James responded, ignoring Gold's minor dig, "Yeah, well, what's done is done."
"Spoken like a true fighter."
"Don't know what chance we have. She's the mayor, and well…"
Pointing at James and smiling with gratification Gold said, "And you're you." Swinging his arm around to point at Emma, "But she isn't. Emma is the first person in this town to stand up to the mayor and she's the one who can beat her."
Emma leaned against the counter, eyeing Gold suspiciously as she felt James stare at her. "Alright, we'll play along. What do you have in mind?" She didn't trust Gold, but you can't counter someone's actions if you can't predict them.
And Gold was the kind of person you wanted to be on your toes for.
She made a mental note to study him more.
Turning to Emma, effectively blocking James out of the conversation, Gold told her, "Miss Swan, two people with a common goal can accomplish many things. Two people with a common enemy can accomplish even more. How would you like a benefactor?"
"A benefactor?" Emma's gut turned to ice. Benefactors mean someone having influence over you, and this town didn't need their police force on a leash to a master.
Gold gestured at the table with his arm that held the binder, "You mind? I want to show the town charter."
"The town charter?"
"It is really quite shocking how few people study the town charter. It's quite comprehensive. And the mayor's authority? Well, maybe she's not as powerful as she seems."
"What do you mean?"
"The mayor can appoint a candidate, but if another person wants the position then there must be an election. It's all here in the charter."
James stayed oddly quiet at these revelations. Giving him an odd look Emma said, "So if James challenges Sidney then there will be an election." Turning towards him, "You'd win, you know that?"
His response was to nod somberly.
"Well, actually, my offer of help only applies to you Miss Swan." Gold looked on with gratification as James straightened.
"Um. Thank you, Mr. Gold, for your help. Can we hold onto your binder and get back to you?"
"Absolutely. I'm afraid I've taken enough of your time. Call me with your answer this evening. But dearies, tick tock."
Tick tock. Fucking crocodile.
When Gold left Emma turned to James, "We don't need him, Jones. You can win without his patronage."
"Emma, I can't win. Gold hates me and he has too much power over people. He could stop the entire town from voting for me."
"And let Sidney win? Would he really trade you for Regina's puppet?"
"I don't know, but I wouldn't put it past him. But you? Emma he's behind you, for whatever reason. Even if you don't accept his help, he won't block you from winning. And we need to win. We can't let her control the station."
Emma shook her head, "That's not fair, and it's not right. You've earned that position, Jones."
"And so have you. You've got ten years of military training, Emma. You can do this."
And you have two hundred years of captaining she wanted to yell back.
Emma shook her head, "The military is not the same thing as running a sheriff's station. Why are you pushing so hard?"
"Because… I don't want to do this."
"What?"
"I mean. I want to be sheriff, but I don't want to do it alone. I heard you earlier, when you said that we're a team. That you and I are a team and insisted that I be included. That… meant a lot Emma and if we're a team, I want to be a teammates on the same playing field. I don't want to be your boss."
"What are you saying?"
He was staring at her, his eyes trying to tell her more than his words could. "That if I run for sheriff, I want you to run with me as my co-sheriff."
"Can we do that?"
"As long as the charter doesn't say we can't."
Regina's voice carried down the stairs of the town City Hall as Emma and James ran through the doors, shoving their way through the gathered crowd, "Everyone deserves to feel safe in their own homes. That's why Sidney Glass is my choice for post of sheriff. This man has put the needs of Storybrooke above his own for as long as anyone can remember as chief editor of the Storybrooke Daily Mirror. Please welcome your new sheriff!"
"Hang on a second!" Emma over the crowd.
"Oh, Miss Swan, Mister Jones, this is not appropriate."
"The only thing not appropriate is this ceremony." Emma snapped, gesturing at Regina and speaking to the crowd of reporters and civilians, "She does not have the power to appoint him."
"The town charter clearly states that the mayor shall appoint–"
"A candidate." James interrupted, "You could appoint a candidate. It calls for an election."
"The term 'candidate' is applied loosely."
"No, it's not. It requires a vote." James asserted.
Emma continued for him, "And guess what, Madam Mayor? We're running."
"Against each other? That will make this easier for Sidney, then. Thank you."
"For me?" Sidney said, wide eyed and confused.
Regina gave him a withering look and he said, "For me. Yes, thank you."
"No. As running charter says nothing against co-sheriffs."
For a minute it appeared as if Regina would break her own teeth by hard she had clenched them. "Fine. I guess we'll learn a little bit about the will of the people and how they feel about having two sheriffs."
"I guess we will."
"Good luck sounding coherent on the debate stand, trying to read each other's minds. I'm sure you'll sound very prepared when–"
The rest of Regina's negativity was cut short by an explosion, setting fire to the inside of the building.
Emma and James immediately went into action, calling orders over the crowd and clearing paths for people to exit the building. Regina and Sidney, meanwhile, had frozen in the attack, both uncertain what to do. With no help from them, Emma and James safely and effectively cleared the building and saw to the wounded few who had been downstairs.
Outside, reporters tried to crowd them, but neither Emma nor James were interested in an interview. Rather, they focused on the emergency crews and tended to the persons who had been inside of the building.
None of them saw anything.
None of them new of anyone who would blow up City Hall.
Walking past Henry excitedly talking to a firefighter Emma heard, "Did they really rescue all those people?"
A moment later and Mary Margaret was asking them the same question, but this time Henry had an answer. "They really did! The fireman said it. He saw it!"
Ruby came up to them then, "You guys are heros."
People have always called soldiers heroes, shook their hands, and thanked them for their service.
Emma has never figured out how to respond to those people.
And, apparently, James Jones did not know how to either because he also awkwardly smiled and changed the subject.
Mary Margaret unfortunately had other ideas, "We should see if they have a picture of the rescue."
Granny interjected, "We could make campaign posters."
Archie joined in, "Oh! People would love that! That's a great idea. Wait, so…" Thankfully, they were so excited by their ideas and prospects (Henry was jumping ecstatically among them) that the group wandered away from them to gain new volunteers and to begin the campaign for sheriff.
Emma and James watched them walk past the pile of debris and both saw the movement of fabric among the rubble.
Jones moved to clear the area and Emma ran to her car to grab her emergency crime scene kit.
In the end they found that the cloth stunk.
They just didn't know the smell.
That is, until they did some research.
And it pointed to Gold.
"Lanolin!" James yelled, storming through Gold's door.
"Excuse you?"
"Lanolin. Commonly used in antique shops for waterproofing." Emma explained.
"That is correct. It's why sheep wool is so effective."
"You set the fire."
"That's quite the accusation. There's some construction work at City Hall at the moment. There's loads of flammable solvents used in construction."
Lies and they knew it. "Why did you do it?"
"If I did it, that would be because you cannot win without something big. Something like, uh… Oh, I don't know. Being the hero in a fire?"
"How could you even know that we'd be there at the right time?"
"Maybe Regina's not the only one with eyes and ears in this town. Or maybe… I'm just intuitive– were I involved."
"We could have frozen or panicked like the rest of them."
"Jones? Possibly. But you–" pointing at Emma with his cane, "You have had the proper reaction beat into you."
Emma narrowed her eyes at him. She did not appreciate how close to the truth he was.
"We can't go along with this." She insisted.
"You just did. This is just the price of the election, Miss Swan."
"A price we aren't willing to pay. Find other suckers."
"Okay, go ahead–expose me. But if you do, just think about what you'll be exposing and what you'll be walking away from." Gold called after them when they started towards the door, "Oh, yes. And, um… Who you'll be disappointing."
On the sidewalk they glared at each other and Emma ground out, "We're doing it."
James nodded, "Tomorrow before the debate starts. Everyone will be gathered."
"Good. We do it ourselves and with our own words."
"Should we prepare?"
Emma paused, then shook her head 'no.' "Maybe just talk to make sure that we're on the same page, but did you see us working together earlier? If we can work like that immediately, without hesitation, then we can do a debate with a guy who doesn't really know what he's doing."
"Granny's, then?"
"How about we just go back to the loft? We're going to get harassed at Granny's about today."
"Fair point." Motioning with his hand towards the direction of the loft, "After you."
Turns out, they did have similar ideas that could be summed up in three words: honesty, trust, and transparency. Emma and James mostly spent the night bantering back and forth.
Mary Margaret would later tease Emma to stop flirting with her coworker.
When Emma teased back about her and David though it was not so well received.
"He's putting up posters for Sidney. Said Kathryn is friends with Regina."
That hurt a bit. He and Emma weren't super close, but they were friends. He texted her about his amnesia when he got too stressed and they would occasionally chat over coffee in the morning about the animals in the shelter. She had never even heard him mention Sidney Glass, and he's voting for him?
If he had his memories, would he still think Sidney was the better candidate?
Now that she found them, even though they're cursed, Emma craved for her father to be rooting for her.
They both went to bed a little sad. Emma because David was rooting against her, Mary Margaret because her true love is miserably married to someone else.
Emma didn't sleep that night, and she knew that she should stay inside, that leaving the loft was a bad idea, and that going to the library was an even worse one.
But she wasn't making much progress on the curse and was getting impatient.
While the windows were boarded up with plywood, the doors were only locked, which was nothing to someone who used to steal frequently and slept in abandoned buildings.
Inside were hundreds of books, all apparently protected from age as if they were waiting for someone. The books should be covered with heavy dust and the room should smell with the stench of decaying paper, but instead the room was immaculate and almost impatient looking. The reading chairs pulled out as if they were waiting for something.
She thought about the storybook, more specifically about Rumplestiltskin, about Belle. Was the library waiting for her?
Emma perused the shelves, looking for titles about magic and curses. She hoped that there was something here, otherwise her best shot was to break into Gold's shop.
And she didn't not want to do that.
The library he may overlook or not even notice if something is missing, but his shop he is in everyday, living and breathing it.
It was the crocodile's swamp, after all.
Nothing came up about magic, but there was one book whose binding appeared to be awfully familiar.
Pulling it down off the shelf it weighed heavy in her arms and was heavier still when she saw the title, Life in the Enchanted Forest. Flipping it open a page folded out, popped up before her was a ship with a feathered sail appearing to fly on the waves. The first words were about the Brothers Jones.
Emma snapped the book shut, putting it in her bag, ready to get the Hell out of dodge and back to the loft.
There would be no attempt at sleep tonight.
She should have gone the fuck to sleep, but she had no regrets.
Rather than leave from her entrance point, Emma made for the back and came out into an alleyway, leaving away from the loft. If anyone was following her, they'd have to track her through town and the trails.
On the trial that encompasses the town she ran into Graham who was looking wild and out of breath.
"Did you see a wolf?"
"A what?" It was the first time Emma had seen him since he resigned. Did he know about the election? Based off of his current state, she would say he hasn't been paying much attention to town politics.
"A wolf. A white wolf, with two different eye colors."
"I… uh… no?"
He made to move past her, but Emma stopped him. "Graham." He didn't look at her. "Graham." She repeated. "Hey," shaking him a little, "look at me."
And he did. "I keep having dreams. Dreams about Mary Margaret and Regina and a wolf. This wolf that I'm chasing. I need to find it. It knows everything."
A wolf? Emma thought back to the story of the Huntsman and remembered his companion, a wolf with two different colored eyes.
"I need to find it, Emma. I think it knows where my heart– There!" And he was sprinting past her. Turning after him, Emma saw Graham and the wolf running away.
"Fuck," she muttered, chasing after them.
The wolf took them off the path and into the woods. The overhanging trees had become so thick that moonlight could not filter through.
The only way they knew that they were headed in the right direction was the glowing of the wolf's one yellow eye in the darkness.
Emma and Graham lost it at the graveyard.
"Graham, you have got to tell me what's going on." Emma shifted her weight to the right side of her body, her left began to make itself known. The leg brace she was wearing was made for low impact, like walking. Emma had not expected that she'd need be chasing down a wolf tonight.
"It's just that– It's just that I've been having these dreams and Gold said–"
"Gold said what?" Emma knew that she should not interrupt him, but it had been one Hell of a night.
"He said that dreams are memories from another life, and I think he's right. I think Henry's right. That you're right." This is good, Emma had to remind herself, because right now Graham looked sick. He was pale and covered in sweat, deep purple bags hung underneath his eyes.
"Have you read the book?"
"No… It's just. When I kissed you it was like my world imploded and suddenly nothing made sense anymore. And I felt… Emma I felt so empty. I am empty. My heart," His was was rubbing his chest, feeling the fake heart that beat underneath, "It's not where it should be."
Slowly Emma said, "Graham, you're right. Things are rotten here, but chasing a wolf through town in the middle of the night? That's not good. Regina has your heart, and if she thinks you're cracking then who knows what she'll do."
He nodded numbly, "Yeah." But his eyes strayed upward, "That symbol. I've dreamed of it."
"What–" Emma saw it. The symbol of the Evil Queen was looming over them on the crypt. Graham tried to go to it, but Emma blocked his path.
"I have to get in there, please–"
"Not tonight, Graham."
With fists clenched and a wild look of desperation in his eyes he asked, "Emma. Please. My heart."
"We don't know what we're getting into." She pleaded. "Go to Henry tomorrow and get the book. Read it. I'll review what I have. There might be a clue as to how we can get your heart back because there is no way in Hell we can just walk in there."
"I don't… I don't want to go home, Emma. I can't live like this anymore." There was such fear in his voice, was it of Regina? Himself? Emma understood what it was like to be afraid of your demons, whether they be of your own making or created by the traumas of life.
A sick feeling began to form in her stomach. How long can a person live without their heart? What are the ramifications?
Keeping Graham alive was more important than keeping safe. "Okay. Let's go inside."
The doors opened without a fuss, which caused a sense of urgency to rise in Emma. The ease with which they opened means that someone comes in here frequently.
And that someone is most definitely Regina.
Emma made certain to shut the door after they entered, encompassing them in darkness.
Emma gave a flashlight to Graham and used her cell phone's light herself. Graham started going for the walls, pulling at objects, looking for a secret entrance, but Emma thought otherwise. If the magic in Storybrooke is limited at most than it probably couldn't sustain secret parts of buildings. Regina can't hide whole extra rooms on the outside of a building, but maybe underneath. Emma turned her eyes to the large casket resting on a concrete structure. Crouching down, she shined her light on the crack where the concrete rise meets the floor, examining the shadows. She ignored the dull and aching pain that began to throb underneath her leg brace. Seeing nothing, but still suspicious, she walked around the room and held her hand to every crack, finding that they were all cold. Going back to the casket she placed her hand next to it on the ground and felt it.
Warm air.
"Graham. Come here and help me push."
With some force it began to glide easily across the floor to reveal a passageway beneath the crypt.
The hairs rose on the back of their necks and arms as they walked past the magical objects scattered about the room. Some of them were obviously trophies.
It was the same sick feeling Emma got when she knew she was in the lair of a warlord. An enemy against humanity.
Graham carelessly charged forward to a yellow curtain, which exposed a wall full of small, decorated boxes. Emma watched as he eyed each one before ultimately deciding on a box on the right hand side. He held up his hand and the box glowed a white light before it drew itself out of the wall to reveal a beating, red heart inside.
With purpose and determination Graham took his heart in his hand and stared at it.
"Graham. You have it. We need to go." He remained silent as they made their way out of the crypt, careful to put everything back as it was before they entered.
Still, he did not speak. And he did not talk when Emma took them into the cover of the forest.
He held his heart out to her, "Put it back."
"Graham, I–"
"You can do it. Please." In the darkness his eyes bore into hers, pleading with Emma.
"How do you know?"
"You're the savior. It has to be you." He pulled her hand out from her side and placed his heart in it.
In absolute blinding panic Emma slammed it against Graham's chest.
He fell to his knees at the sudden burst of feeling everything, but he was alive.
Emma stood there fucking petrified as Graham wheezed on the ground and watched as the wolf came up to him, gently nudging its nose against his head.
It didn't take long for Graham to throw his arms around his old friend. He peered up at Emma and said, "Thank you."
"Where will you go?" Was the only thing Emma could say.
"Here. The forest." With purpose he added, "I'm the Huntsman. She can't find me here."
"You remember."
"And you know the truth. You have to win tomorrow, Emma. You are the key to breaking this curse. I'll be your eyes and ears in the forest. If I see anything, I'll text you. I'll call James, or Hook rather, and tell him that I decided to go backpacking on the Appalachian Trail for a few months. He'll find it strange, but it'll keep a missing persons report off of me."
Emma nodded as she listened to him, she was feeling rather numbed by the nights events. "I guess this is a 'see you later' then."
Graham's smile was a little sad, "I suppose so. Be careful."
"You too."
They only walked away from each other for a few feet before Graham called, "Emma," turning she looked at him. His face was obscured by the shadows and she could not make it out, "I'm sorry. For everything. From the fact that you were an innocent child to the kiss in the station. I'm sorry."
"Goodnight, Huntsman."
Emma didn't pay attention to where her feet took her. She could still feel the weight of Graham's heart in her hand, the feeling of its texture lingered on her skin. She was out of her body, watching her movements, but numb to them as her feet took her to James' door. It is only when her knuckles lightly grazed the hardwood that her soul snapped back into her body.
She was shaking. She wanted to cry. She wanted to fall into his arms and tell him everything.
Emma rapped on his door, but it didn't open. She was nearly out the front of his building when she heard the soft click of a lock and cracking open of a door.
"Emma?" His voice called quietly into the soft light.
Face to face with him and she couldn't say a word. She wanted him to believe, but she was so afraid that he wouldn't.
She only just found him. She couldn't lose him yet.
Not over this.
She started shaking again, it was too much. Everything was suddenly too much.
Oh God, when was the last time she took care of herself?
Her breathing quickened, her chest started hurting, and her legs gave out.
James rushed over to her, practically carrying her into his apartment. Emma's feet barely touched the ground as the muttered "imfineimfineimfine" in a mantra that most certainly declared that she was not fine.
She couldn't breathe, she couldn't fucking breathe. Her clothes were too tight. Oh god, her chest hurt. She had to take them off.
James didn't know what to do other than let Emma work her way through the attack. It terrified him to her like this. What does he do? What the fuck does he do?
He watched helplessly as Emma ripped off her jacket and shirt then began to pull at her bra. In her panic however she was unable to remove it and fell to her knees, putting her head against the floor and her hands continued to fight the offending garment. James sat down beside her and unclasped the bra. She shrugged out of it and threw it to the side, keeping herself in the fetal position with her head against the floor. James' hand hovered in the air, he wanted to rub it up and down her back but didn't want to risk upsetting her further by touching her bare back. Instead, he dragged the afghan off his couch and draped it over Emma's body. Only then did he begin to rub comforting circles on her back.
After about ten minutes she sat up with the blanket wrapped around her. Sniffling, Emma began to apologized for waking him up at 2 AM to have a panic attack and wanted to reassure him that she's fine to work.
James didn't did not allow her to apologize. "You have no reason to be sorry, love. And there is no reason to try to reassure me about your fitness for your job. You are human, Emma. You are so human. And you have been through more than most." His arm moved to hug her shoulder and Emma didn't stop herself from leaning into him nudging her forehead against his chin.
They sat like that for half an hour before Emma decided to leave. "I should go. You need sleep. I need sleep." She told him as they disentangled themselves from each other. She turned to grab her clothing, but stopped before she took it. The thought of putting on the tight clothes was a difficult one to swallow. She'd rather go home in the blanket.
James must have read her thoughts on her face. "Let me get you a shirt."
He handed her a black button up and turned around as she put it on. "Thank you," was her soft reply. She was embarrassed and couldn't look at him. James made to sat back on the floor next to her, but she stood up before he could join her. "I should go- get some sleep. You should too."
Her entire time in Storybrooke has been a story of missed connections and isolation. Her family is so close, but so far away from her. Killian, her sweet, loving, kind lieutenant, was gone, but sometimes Emma felt as if he was right there, beneath the surface. Looking at James now Emma saw in his face the concern that riddled it a decade ago when she came out of that cave.
She couldn't stop herself from hurtling her body into his.
The embrace lasted a matter of seconds before she pulled away and was out the door.
James' hand rested on his chest, where the echo of Emma's body remained.
Emotionally raw and exhausted Emma made it back to the loft around 4 in the morning.
She collapsed in a heap on her bed and slept until 6 AM.
[Iraq, 2006]
"Alright shit heads, this should be a simple get in, get out." Their captain hissed at them before entering the compound. "Mason, you take point. Followed by Hicks, then Swan. I'll take the rear. The rest of you bastards fall in line."
At twenty-three years old Emma had been a lieutenant for two years after getting her BA in three. The day it happened she thought about Killian, and what he would say. Would he be proud of her? She had stood shoulder to shoulder with her best friend, Chase, as they both made the rank of officer. It had been a good day, a proud day for both of them.
Unfortunately, he died, bleeding to death in Emma's arms two months later. She had been covered in blood when she led what remained of their unit out of enemy clutches. When they made it back to base she cursed curse her captain and the men who interviewed them for knowingly sending them into a lion's den.
"You goddamn bastards sent us on a suicide mission."
Their captain, who had stayed behind, merely shrugged and told her to follow orders.
She told him to fuck himself.
There was no fire went they entered the compound in Iraq, instead they were greeted by silence.
"They must be in the back. Keep pushing." Came the order from behind.
"We should pull back and reassess the situation. There is probably an ambush waiting for us." Emma interjected.
The Kid was behind her, staring at her wide eyed, uncertain whether to follow the person he trusted or the one in charge. He was eighteen now after enlisting early at sixteen. Emma had done her best to keep him alive, both on the battlefield and stateside. On his very first deployment Chase died, and so did the Kid's parents. Emma had taken him back to her shitty little apartment, two years later and he's still with her in a two bedroom now. He's supposed to move out when they return, go live with his uncle.
"I said to keep fucking pushing."
"You're going to get us fucking killed."
"Move it," he demanded, shoving the men in front of him.
So they delved in, slowly and reluctantly they made progress into the darkness.
Lieutenant Swan was right, they should have turned around.
There were push plates waiting for them in the floor.
Mason became mist, Hicks was missing significant parts of himself, and along with Emma they were both thrown into a wall. Her left leg and arm a bleeding, mangled mess.
She was aware of none of this however, as she had lost consciousness upon impact.
She wouldn't regain it for three months.
When she did, the Kid was sitting next to her in an uncomfortable hospital chair and she was made captain.
It was supposed to take her a year to learn how to walk again, but at six months when she could stand comfortablely, the military demanded her return. They gave her a leg brace and said, "walk."
They needed her back in the grasslands of Tanzania.
[Storybrooke]
"What's the news, Swan?" James greeted her behind the curtain at the city's theater. He had bags under his eyes, she wondered if he slept after she left him. Taking a closer look at her, "Are you okay?" Emma could hear Archie out front practicing his speech:
"Citizens of Storybrooke. Uh, we welcome you to, uh…"
"I'm fine. I've dealt with worse and kept working the next day." And she was fine, really. While she hadn't slept last night she did get in a shower and put on a fresh face. "Just point me to the coffee and we can rock this." Emma couldn't think about Graham, or the curse, or the book she found last night, or her panic attack at James' door. She had to focus on the now.
They had to win this.
He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't comment.
Suddenly a warm hand was in her's, "We're going to win, Emma." A calm, warm feeling spread through her at his voice. Like a balm, it began to relax her.
"How do you know?"
He smiled, "I wouldn't bet against you for the world." More lights began to turn on in the front. Dropping her hand, "Time to step up."
Mary Margaret met them at the podium with two bottles of water, beaming at them. "You guys got this." And giving them a quick hug each, she left to join the audience.
Archie began, "Unexpected circumstances brought us here, but we are faced with this decision. And now, we ask only that you listen with an open mind and to please vote your conscience. So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce your candidates– Sidney Glass and the team of James Jones and Emma Swan. Swan. Sounds like something your decorator might make you buy. Wow, crickets. Okay, uh… Mr. Glass, your opening statement."
Clearing his throat and sounding well rehearsed, Sidney said, "I just want to say, that if elected, I want to serve as a reflection of the best qualities of Storybrooke. Honesty, neighborliness, and strength. Thank you."
"Thank you, Mr. Glass. Miss Swan? Mr. Jones?"
Emma stepped up to speak first, "You guys all know that I have a troubled past thanks to the illegally obtained documents that were published by Mr. Glass, but you all have overlooked it. I appreciate that, whether it is because you thought I was worth a second chance or because of the whole hero thing yesterday. But here's the thing– the fire was a set up."
Jones was now by her side, "Mr. Gold approached us yesterday to offer his patronage. We did not accept nor sign an agreement."
"But that doesn't mean that Mr. Gold decided to stand back. He took matters into his own hands. We don't have definitive proof, only circumstantial evidence, but we are sure." Emma said.
"We considered coming forward last night, but thought it best to do it now before all of Storybrooke so that we could tell the story and not someone else."
Standing shoulder to shoulder with Jones, Emma spoke "We couldn't let ourselves win with a lie. It was the truth or nothing for us."
Mr. Gold stood up from the front row and walked out of the room as eyes trailed behind him.
A beat of silence, then Archie continued the debate.
To everyone in the room, the debate felt like it was already over.
"Emma, James, you guys are a hero!" Henry exclaimed as he came running at her in Granny's. She and James had come to the diner to relax and wait out the results, her with a hot chocolate and him with a whiskey tumbler.
"What? It was staged, kid."
"Yeah, but you told the truth when you could have let the lie go. That's what heroes do. It's pretty amazing." He was beaming at her, "We can win this."
Regina and Sidney entered the diner then, "I thought I'd find you two here. With a drink. And my son."
"Here to card me, officer?" Jones joked.
Sidney smiled, "Well, not at all. In fact, I think I'll join you."
"Here? I don't know. I think they're setting up a back room for a victory party."
"Oh, well, you'll have to tell me what that's like."
What? What? Both Emma and James thought they shot their foot at the debate, the feeling of elation began to overtake them.
"Congratulations… Sheriff Jones." Flirtatiously Regina told him, "You deserve it." She insisted on leaning over him and placing the badge over his chest, letting her hand linger a little longer than necessary. James' eyebrows shot up as he stared at Emma across the table. She glared back. Apparently, Regina still wanted her hand in the station's back pocket. And with reluctance Regina all but threw a badge at Emma, "And Sheriff Swan."
James gave Regina a small, insincere smile, "Thank you, Madam Mayor. Emma and I do deserve this."
"It was a very close vote, but people really seem to like the idea of having two sheriffs brave enough to stand up to Mr. Gold. But a word advice before I leave: You didn't pick a great friend in Mr. Gold, you did however choose a superlative enemy. Enjoy that. Come on Henry."
"But I want to enjoy the party!"
Regina smiled, and Emma thought she saw something malicious in her eyes. "That's alright Henry, you can stay and have fun then. The two sheriffs have to go to work now anyway." Glaring at Emma, "Time to go, Sheriff Swan."
"Wait! James! We're still going to meet after school right? David is picking me and we're going to the park."
Jones grinned down at Emma's son, "Aye lad, I'll be there."
At the station they were greeted by Gold, handing them two brand new name plates for their desks. "Congratulations, sheriffs."
"You do know that we're armed, right?" Emma asked.
"It's all part of the act, my dear. Political theater in an actual theater. I knew no one was going to vote for you unless we gave you some kind of extraordinary quality, and I'm afraid saving people during the press conference wasn't going to do that. We had to give you a higher form of bravery. They had to see you defy me– and you did that."
"There's no bloody way you planned that." James ground out.
"Everyone's afraid of Regina, but they're more afraid of me. By standing up to me, you won them over. It was the only way. And now, both of you owe me a favor."
"A favor," Emma began, "means that one party had to consent to the exchange of something. Neither of us," she said waving her hand between her and James, "agreed to anything with you. So technically, what you did was an act of malicious goodwill." Gold's face turned hard, the rage of a man unaccustomed to such treatment simmering underneath. "Besides, despite your insistence, there is no way you could have planned this. Sure, you could plot that it would have worked out this way, but there were too many variables to say that this all came out the way you wanted."
"Aye, I'd say there is a desperate soul in this room, but it doesn't belong to Sheriff Swan or I."
"We have no deal Gold and nothing to repay. If that's all you wanted, can we return to our work?" Emma's voice was cold, clearly cutting the conversation short.
Through gritted teeth Gold told them that no, he does not have anything else for them, and left the station.