Thank you for reading, and without further ado, here's the new chapter!
Emma sleepwalks to Granny's and trips over some unidentified object left on the floor as soon as she comes in, only just managing to catch herself before kissing the floor.
"Put that bag somewhere else!" Granny barks at the offender and wraps her arm around Emma's shoulders, leading her to an empty booth in the corner. "Are you alright, darling? You look awfully pale."
"Yeah, I'm fine", Emma reassures her even though her stomach is in knots and her heart is hammering in her chest; she had expected Killian to come with her when she met her mother, and now it appears that somebody from his past has found him, somebody called Milah who was his first love, and undoubtedly the reason for the heart tattoo he has on his hand.
"You're having the special?"
"Somebody is going to join me", Emma tells Granny and shrugs out of her coat, hoping that her mother won't have trouble recognizing her; they talked an hour ago and Emma described her shirt and herself as best as she could, admitting to her blindness, but if Mary Margaret Nolan was taken aback by that fact she had managed to hide it well.
Emma's watch says that it's five minutes past noon and she fidgets in her seat, drumming her fingers on the table and trying not to think what she would do if Neal abruptly came back into her life.
She's pretty sure she would send him packing, but it doesn't mean that it's what Killian will do with his ex.
"Emma", a soft, melodic voice says and Emma jumps a little, then stands up and offers her hand for a handshake, hoping that her fingers don't shake as much as she thinks they must be. "Oh Emma it is really you."
Emma's offered hand gets ignored and two slender, gentle arms envelop her in a warm hug, the scent of violets surrounding her as she briefly freezes, then makes herself relax into the hug.
"I have been searching for so long", Mary Margaret says and keeps holding on, her hand cradling the back on Emma's head as if she's still a child, the amount of love that Emma feels pouring into her heart slightly overwhelming, but not unpleasant. "Let me look at you."
Emma pulls away, her mother's palms cupping her cheeks, her own hands hanging limply at her sides.
"You have my chin", Mary Margaret says, her laugh ringing around the diner and undoubtedly attracting curious looks, but Emma couldn't care less. "And eyes too."
"What about my hair?" Emma hears herself ask, remembering all those instances in school when she was supposed to draw her parents and kept making them both blonde.
"That you get from your father", Mary Margaret says and pulls her back in for another hug, only letting go of her when Granny clears her throat behind them.
"We should order", Emma says and they settle in the booth facing each other, an awkward silence settling over them as soon as Granny leaves; Mary Margaret had ordered vegetable soup and Emma followed suit, regretting her decision a second later because she's going to have to be extra careful not to drip the soup on her shirt and lap.
"You probably have a lot of questions", Mary Margaret finally breaks the silence and Emma can't think of a single thing to ask her beyond the obvious.
"Where's my father?"
"He's travelling for work, but he knows that I found you and he's as excited to meet you as I was", Emma's mother says and briefly covers Emma's hand with hers as if she can't resist the urge to touch her. "If you want, we can take a picture later and I'll send it to him."
"Okay", Emma agrees even though she hates taking pictures, afraid that she's going to blink at the wrong time, look in the wrong direction or generally look obviously blind.
"Tell me about yourself", Mary Margaret says when their soup arrives and Emma realizes that she doesn't want to share anything bad that has happened in her childhood because she doesn't want to unnecessary hurt her mother.
And so, when she tells her story she focuses on funny anecdotes and glosses over the countless group homes and foster families, days she hadn't eaten and times she was beaten, only hesitating when she reaches the night of her accident.
She doesn't want to tell her mother that she had gone into the car of her drunk boyfriend and ended up blind as a result.
"What does my father do for a living?" Emma changes the subject abruptly, and Mary Margaret goes with it, telling her that David works for a computer company and often travels overseas, to both Japan and Europe.
"He's going to cut his trip short, but there's still some meetings he can't miss", Mary Margaret says and Emma nods, briefly touching her watch to make sure she's still got time until the end of her break.
"How did you find me?" She asks the most important question last, needing to hear the full explanation.
"My stepmother refused to tell me where she left you and I have spent all this time systematically going through orphanages and missions, but I never had any luck."
"But?"
"But she called me last week to tell me because she felt that the end was close. She died two days ago", Mary Margaret tells her and she sounds almost sorry.
"You don't hate her for what she did?"
"When I was little, I told a secret that ruined her life. This was her way of getting back at me."
"You think you had it coming?!" Emma asks her incredulously and wonders what did she ever do to deserve the life she got.
"Even if I had, you were the one who suffered for it, so yes, Emma, I hate my stepmother but I can't help feeling grateful that she came around in the end", Mary Margaret says and Emma realizes that so far, they don't have much in common beyond their love for vegetable soup.
"My lunch break is almost over", Emma announces and stands, suffering through a brief photo session before she can escape the diner, agreeing to see her mother again in a few days.
There are three voice mails and five texts from Killian waiting when Emma checks her phone, but she puts it back in her pocket without listening to any and returns to work feeling oddly at peace with herself now that she knows she wasn't unwanted.
She was always so very, very loved.
Killian manages to get rid of Milah fairly quickly but the customers keep swamping him and calling to order bouquets for tomorrow so he doesn't get a chance to join Emma and her mother at Granny's, his apologies going to her voice mail and his texts remaining unopened.
It's not surprising that Emma is reacting the way she is, and Killian wants to clear up things as soon as possible, which sadly means waiting until he can close his shop because he doubts Emma is going to stop by on the way home from work.
When the door opens ten minutes past 4 p.m. Killian abandons the arrangement he'd been painstakingly working on for the past twenty minutes and walks into the main part of the store, hoping against hope that he's going to see Emma walking in.
And he does.
"Swan", he murmurs and only then allows himself to feel all the dread he'd been fighting against since Emma had come and gone so abruptly.
"I came to see if you would like to explain about the woman who was here earlier, claiming that you must love her", Emma says calmly but he knows her well enough by now to notice the little signs that give her nervousness away; she shifts from foot to foot, turns her cane in her hand or plays with its strap, and she's doing all three at the moment.
"Do you want to sit-"
"No, thank you. Just tell me."
"As you've probably heard, Milah was my first love. She was a little older and I fell for her head over heels; her brother was a part of the gang I later belonged to myself", Killian says and runs his fingers through his hair, truly wishing that this day could be over already. "After my brother was killed and I lost my hand, Milah expected that I would just go back to the life I used to lead as soon as I was out of the hospital… She told me I was a real gangster now, and that I should get a hook in the place of my lost hand."
"Jesus", Emma says emphatically and her fingers twitch as if she wants to reach for him, but she keeps them at her side and Killian continues his story.
"She was high most of the time back then, and I was done with all that. I had learned my lesson, and I told her I was leaving, and that she can come with me if she cleans up her act", Killian says and balls his hand into a fist to stop it from shaking.
"And then she left and you didn't see her again until today?" Emma asks and Killian starts to nod before he catches himself and verbalizes his answer.
"Precisely."
"She wants you back", Emma says, and it's said with such defeated finality that Killian can't help himself, his hand reaching for hers, his fingers stopping her tremors and infusing them both with strength.
"I do not care what she wants. It's been seven years and we're both different people than we were before", Killian says and Emma still looks worried, her lips pressed into a thin, pensive line. "I promise you, love; you don't have to worry about Milah… all she ever did was bring me down, and I would much rather be with somebody who builds me up."
For a long time Emma is silent, contemplating his words, and when she finally speaks her voice is soft and hesitant, her gaze fixed on the floor.
"I know you're telling the truth, but…", she trails off and bites her lip, her thumb rubbing against the tattoo on the back of his hand as if she's trying to wipe it away. "Do you have her name tattooed somewhere?"
The question throws him for a loop, and even though he's not sure why it's important, he still answers it with complete honesty.
"I do not."
"You could be lying and I wouldn't be able to tell", she almost whispers and he's at a loss for a moment, overwhelmed with the sudden urge to kiss her and tell her that he only wants to be with her, that she's the one he thinks about the second he opens his eyes.
He knows it's too soon for such a declaration even if it's how he feels, so Killian tries a different approach, attempting to lighten up the mood.
"You would know if I was lying, Swan. Your super-power would tell you", he says and she looks stunned that he remembered, and even more so, that he believes in it.
"Any other names on your body I should be worried about?" She asks with a playful gleam in her eyes and unconsciously shifts closer to him, the pleasant smell of her hair filling his nose and making it a little difficult to concentrate.
"So far, there isn't", he tells her and the corner of her mouth twitches upward before her entire face blossoms into a smile.
"Show me another tattoo?" She asks, her thumb pressing against the one on his hand and Killian finds himself at a loss because all his tattoos are either on his chest, back, or upper arms, which means he has to take off his shirt to show her, except…
"I have one that we might be able to reach without me having to strip in public", he says and Emma looks curious and eager, so he leads her hand underneath the hem of his shirt and presses her cold fingers against his ribs.
"It's some kind of a shield?" Emma asks after a few moments of exploration that makes Killian curse himself for not counting on the effect her touch will have on him, but she looks so pleased with herself that he somehow reigns in his libido and tells her it's the Jones family crest.
"You have a crest?"
"One of my ancestors was actually a Duke", Killian says and Emma presses her palm against his skin, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire", she whispers, then stands on tiptoes and sweetly kisses his cheek.
"Would you like to stay and tell me how lunch with your mother went?"
"It depends."
"On what?"
"Do I get a bouquet of flowers for my efforts?"
"You get this lovely white camellia", Killian says and slides the flower against her jaw, smiling when she giggles and pulls away even though he already misses the touch of her fingers on his skin.
"I think it will do", Emma snatches the flower from his hand and rests her cheek against the blossom, making Killian realize that he had changed his mind.
He does not wish this day to end.
Review?