5: Family

Jennifer had four hours until she had to be at Granny's to talk with Emma. So, to give Emma~and herself~the chance that she deserved, she immersed herself in Storybrooke. And the more she discovered about this town the more she wondered why Emma had stayed. And that had her curious.

Over a decade has passed since they last saw each other. Things are different. It's clear that both of them have changed. At first it didn't seem like Emma had changed at all. But now that she'd gotten to know the town a bit better she's come to realize that the thieving delinquent she'd known was long gone. She couldn't help but wonder what had caused her to change.

What had shown Jennifer? Time, she supposed. Distance. Perspective. She'd been a passive, frightened little girl who was torn up by the neglect, deceit, and cruelty of the foster system. But from her experiences she learned three things: complete self-reliance, the philosophy that life screws a hell of a lot of people over, and the fact that there's nothing anyone can do to stop it.

That, she figured, was when time, distance, and perspective came in. Out in the real world her three lessons from foster care still hold true, but it was only with time and distance away from the foster system that she gained some perspective~a fourth life lesson.

A person's will can supersede nearly all obstacles. And she believed that. At 18, fresh out of the system, she had had little money, no family, and no connections. But she got accepted into college, and she worked and worked and worked her ass off until she made connections and people knew her name and she accomplished her goals. It was arduous, and she was by no means a perfect person. But so far she's been one of the luckier ones in this life. And she was endlessly grateful for what she had because she'd still found happiness and purpose through all of her shit.

So why was an event that happened over a decade ago still bothering her?

Maybe because it seemed unnecessary. Two years was all Emma had to live through. She'd already lived sixteen. What were two more? It seemed so needless, in fact, that she viewed it as a reflection on herself. She believed, for the longest time, that she deserved to be abandoned. She hated that Emma had done that to her. But, more importantly, she hated that Emma couldn't even apologize for it.

Thirteen years was a long time to be angry, to hold a grudge. Seeing Emma again and spitting those scathing words to her was Jennifer's gut reaction to a wound that she hadn't even thought about in years.

Forgiveness was another lesson she had to learn the hard way. The anger towards her foster parents and Emma and her family ate her up in college. Her Aunt Kate and Uncle Lawrence especially because they could have taken her in after her parents died, but they didn't. It kept hurting her for years until she finally realized that this unresolved anger was doing more harm than good. So, slowly, she learned to forgive solely for the sake of her sanity.

But with Emma she actually had a chance to make things right. Jennifer was willing to forgive. She wanted this over. She wanted to move on. But it was still bothering her because Emma, after all these years, can't even apologize for abandoning Jennifer like their relationship had meant nothing.

That's why she was angry.

. . .

"Hey!" There was a piercing voice and quick, thumping footsteps behind her. "You're Jennifer Swan!" Confused, she turned to find a little boy, no older than eleven, running at her on the sidewalk. Backpack bouncing on his back, shocks of brown hair blowing in the wind, and bright green eyes that lit up with a grin. She raised her brow, eyeing the boy in amusement and surprise.

"How did you know?" She asked, stopping to let him catch his breath. He hooked his fingers under the straps on his backpack.

"I know everyone in Storybrooke, but I didn't recognize you."

"Process of elimination, nice." She nodded, a knowing smile on her lips. "But it's Alexander, actually. Not Swan." In response, he stuck out his hand, and she shook it. Firm grip for an eleven year old.

"Well, I'm Henry."

"You don't see many Henry's anymore. Nice name, kid, it suits you." She nodded as they started walking again.

"Thanks. So how long are you staying?"

"Just until my car's fixed." His little brow furrowed as he looked up at her.

"Did you crash it?"

"Yeah, right into the town sign. There was a wolf in the middle of the road; can you believe it?" His ears perked up at that.

"A wolf?" He asked in shock. "When my mom first came to Storybrooke there was a wolf in the road, too."

"Wow, that's...a pretty weird coincidence. You know, it was strange now that I think about it. What would a wolf be doing out in the rain? I hate to say it, but it was almost like fate. I mean, honestly, the one wolf that's dumb enough to be out in the rain just happens to be standing in the road that I'm driving while I happen to not be able to see ten feet in front of me?" She looked down at Henry and could practically see the cogs turning in his head.

"Maybe you were meant to come to Storybrooke then." He proposed. She chuckled.

"To do what?"

"I don't know yet."

"Well, you tell me when you do, kid." She chuckled. Such a funny little boy. He pointed to her right arm. She was wearing a sleeveless top, and he must have noticed her tattoos.

"Why a skeleton? Why is it dancing?" She glanced down at it. It was done with black ink and most definitely her favorite tattoo. She looked to Henry and smiled.

"Because people are pretty cool." Henry peered thoughtfully at her arm but didn't say anything more. About the tattoo at least. He kept chatting about this or that, and she couldn't help but enjoy his innocence. She hoped that he'd keep it because as a doctor she'd taken a lot of shit for having visible tattoos (let alone the ones people didn't usually see). It had taken a lot of hard work and a hell of a thick skin for her to break past that stereotype. So she loved it when kids saw the art on her body for the art that it was.

"I gotta go." He told her suddenly, and she looked up, thoroughly snapped from her thoughts. They were standing in front of a tall, brick apartment building. Henry must have led her here, and she didn't even realize.

"Live here?" She asked, and he nodded. "Alright, well maybe I'll see you again before I leave." She smiled at the grin that burst from his cheeks.

"Great! We can get ice cream after school or something!" He shouted after her, walking backwards up the sidewalk to his building. "Bye, Miss Alexander!" He shouted before disappearing through the front door. She chuckled at him once and, with a shake of her head, continued on her way.

. . .

Seven o'clock came quickly after that. She was anxiously munching on a plate of fries at a booth in the corner when Emma walked in, no sheriff's badge on her hip this time. With a deep breath, the blonde took a seat across from Jennifer whose crystal blue eyes were tracking Emma expectantly. "So." Emma exhaled.

"So." Jennifer responded. They were silent for a long moment, the air growing awkward and thick between them. Dishes rattled, and the handful of customers chatted. "Why don't you just start with why you left."

Emma sighed, leaning back in the booth. Jennifer stared, elbows on the table. Emma shifted in her seat, took a breath, and met Jennifer's gaze.

"I just didn't feel like I belonged in the foster system anymore. I was sixteen. I thought I was invincible. I thought I knew everything there was to know. I felt like the foster system was holding me back. I just...didn't want to be owned anymore." Emma sighed. "And I felt like I was holding you back." Jennifer's chest tightened in surprise. "I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't agree, but, Jenny, you were so smart. People weren't fostering you because you'd only let them take you in if I came too. People didn't want me. I was a delinquent. You became a delinquent by default. All I wanted was for you to be with a good family."

"You were my family, Emma." Jennifer shot back. "I didn't want to be fostered; I thought you knew that!" Her voice was starting to get louder so she sighed, her eyes closing for a moment because she could feel the eyes of the diner on them. "If you had told me that you wanted to leave~if you had said that you'd keep in touch~why the fucking hell would I have stopped you? If you had talked to me and told me how you were feeling…" She shook her head and leaned back against the booth. Her appetite was gone.

"I was a kid. I didn't even think about it from your point of view, my self esteem was in the trash, and I just thought it would be all better if I was gone." Jennifer sat up again.

"Emma, I was never adopted. No one fostered me any differently than they did before you left, and you know what? It didn't even matter. I went to college, and I worked my ass off, and I got my degree. I know; I get it. The system made it seem like you wouldn't amount to anything without foster parents. The thing is, I made a life for myself, and I'm sure you did too." She searched Emma's eyes. "But it didn't happen because you left."

"What do you want me to say?" Emma asked helplessly. Jennifer fell silent. Ruby scrubbed the counter methodically.

"I want you to apologize to me." Jennifer licked her lips, searching Emma's eyes. "When you walked into my hospital room I~I was shocked, thrilled! I couldn't believe it, and I would have forgiven you on the spot. But I can't do that you if you just dismiss my pain as kids being kids. Don't make me feel like a used toy, Emma. I mean, come on, you've gotta feel some remorse for just leaving me like that!" Emma scoffed loudly.

"Yeah, of course I do now that I know how you felt about it. Up until yesterday I just thought I had done what was best for you. I thought you'd appreciate it." Emma replied accusingly, her voice building, her neck taut. "But I can't just apologize because if I hadn't left then I wouldn't have my son."

Immediately, Jennifer unclenched her fists and let the air out of her lungs and dropped her shoulders. What?

"Son?"

Emma saw how Jennifer's eyes widened, and she relaxed as well. Suddenly exhausted, she leaned back against the booth and brushed her hair behind her ear.

"When I was eighteen I got into some...trouble. It's a long story. The point is that the guy I was with~Neal~sold me out, and I got sent to jail pregnant." For a stunned moment, all of Jennifer's anger melted into shock.

"Pregnant?" Jennifer echoed, doing the math in her head. "That means that your son must be eleven. Oh my god, Emma, you're a mother." She leaned back against the booth, drinking Emma up in a far different light than before.

"His name's Henry."

"Henry? Henry as in the Henry I just met on the sidewalk today? Brown hair, red and gray scarf?"

"Yeah! Yeah, you met him?"

"He must have been coming home from school. Emma, oh my god. No wonder you settled in this damn town. It's white picket fence after white fucking picket fence here!" She laughed and shook her head. "Henry's a good kid, Emma. Really, he's lovely."

"Well, Jenny, look. I didn't...raise him."

"What?"

"I gave him up. I was eighteen; I could barely handle myself let alone a baby. I don't have a college education. If I had raised him you think we'd be living in a place like Storybrooke? Last year, Henry showed up at my door in Boston and told me that he was my son. I took him home, and I never left." She shrugged.

"So who adopted him in Storybrooke?"

"The mayor. I don't know if you know her. Regina Mills."

"Regina?" Jennifer asked, leaning forward in the booth.

"I take it you met her then."

"She doesn't seem like the mothering type. I mean, not that I'm complaining. She raised a hell of a little gentleman." Emma nodded while Jennifer sat in shock. Emma, the little girl she knew thirteen years ago, the trouble maker, was a mother. And Regina Mills, gorgeous and intimidating and a hell of a mystery, was a mother. She didn't know which seemed less likely.

"Mother." Jennifer hissed, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. She stared at Emma and shook her head. "Sheriff too. How the hell did that happen?"

"In Boston I was a bail bondsperson." Emma shrugged.

"Of course. Why didn't I just automatically assume that you~the patron saint of innocence and all that is righteous~would plant yourself firmly behind the thin blue line?" Jennifer's snark was playful, and Emma reacted accordingly.

"Alright then, Jennifer Irene. What have you been doing for thirteen years?"

"Practicing medicine actually." Jennifer admitted, but before Emma could congratulate her on living her childhood dream, Jennifer shook her off as if just realizing something cataclysmically important. "Okay, freeze. Wait a minute. What the hell were you in jail for?"