A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews for the last chapter. In particular thank you for the PMs about this story...you know who you are!
I am really enjoying writing this and can promise I have a lot planned. I hope you guys will stick with the story to see the plot unfold!
And please let me know what you do and don't like. I really love reading what you think.
"Emma!" A voice broke Emma's stride as she walked with purpose along Main Street, back to the Sheriff Station.
"Emma!" Emma slowed and squeezed her eyes closed, taking a steadying breath before forcing a smile to her features and turning to face the intrusion.
Snow was calling intently, jogging along with Neal bouncing in his pushchair.
"Hey," Emma smiled innocently as her mother caught up to her.
"I've been trying to call you," Snow chastised, "Is your phone not working?" Snow skipped straight past the niceties as she fixed Emma with a slightly concerned and slightly put out expression.
"Sorry," Emma feigned exasperation, "it's been kind of hit and miss since I dropped it." She shrugged, still avoiding eye contact as much as she could without looking guilty. "What did you need?"
Snow was slightly taken aback by Emma's clear expectation that she wanted something from her. She softened towards her daughter with concern.
"Emma, I don't need anything, I just," she hesitated, not sure what to say. Bridging the gap between herself and Emma was always difficult, no matter how much she longed to be a real mother to Emma, she couldn't shake the awkwardness, the feeling that she just didn't know how to connect, how to make Emma connect in return.
"Why don't you come to Granny's with us?" Snow offered with a gentle smile, hoping Emma would agree. She kept her eyes trained on her daughter, watching her shift uncomfortably under her gaze. It seemed like forever since they had spent any time together. Snow began to realise, she could barely even remember the last time they had been together when some emergency wasn't occurring, her brow creased.
"Already got take out," Emma stated, lifting the bag in her hand for evidence. She felt her muscles ease with relief at having the excuse ready, but couldn't shake the crawling sensation that was clutching at her chest once again.
"Emma, what's going on?" Snow asked bluntly, her head shook sadly as she remained staring at her daughter. Emma stiffened under the scrutiny and she wanted nothing more than to run. She desperately tried to control her breath as she felt fingers of pain twisting around in her chest, pushing away the air and ripping into her nerves.
"What? I already made plans?" Emma was indignant, annoyed and frustrated that she was being questioned, feeling more and more pressured and trapped as she could feel her mother's eyes boring into her.
"No. You are barely here Emma." Snow's tone hardened in accusation.
"You don't talk, you don't spend time with us," Snow continued as Neal began to whimper in his pushchair as he started to notice the cold air around him, the lack of movement and the tension thickening.
Emma could feel her chest tightening, like claws gripping her. She desperately tried to block out the feeling and focus on what was being said, but the words were no less painful.
"Even Henry has been coming over alone, asking when you're coming to see us. Emma, he says he's barely seen you. That's not like you." Snow ended her words on a heavy breath, wishing beyond hope that she could just break past the walls and understand her daughter, understand how to be her mother.
"There's nothing going on." Emma stated blankly, the hostility clear in her voice. "I'm meeting Henry for lunch at the station." She glared at Snow, daring her to try to accuse her of not spending time with Henry. She could feel the pain in her ribcage vibrating more and more violently, like claws squirming and grasping aimlessly within her for something they could not quite reach.
Snow stared unblinkingly at her daughter, not knowing how to break through the vast distance and heavy tension hanging between them. She tried to scan her child's face to discern anything, any emotion, but it was a blank slate. Emma was so adept at building her walls around her, pushing down any pain or truth behind the masked exterior.
The pair stood in their awkward stalemate for just seconds that felt like hours, both too strong and too stubborn to break first. Neither had quite realised just how far they had drifted and how frayed and damaged their fragile connection had become.
Neal's cries began in earnest as the chilled air nipped more ferociously at his nose and ears.
"I have to go," Emma's voice broke the silence between the pair in a cold snap, "Henry's waiting." She gave a smile to her mother, still hoping to convince her that everything was fine, to mollify her. The pain ripped more roughly through her chest and she inhaled sharply. She turned away quickly, hoping that the action had gone unnoticed.
Snow seemed distracted by Neal, rocking the pushchair back and forth in a fruitless attempt to settle him. Comforted by the fact that her pain was unseen, unknown, Emma walked away, turning back to give a brief wave over her shoulder before she let her face fall and her hands move once again to her chest.
"Emma." Snow called uselessly to her daughter's retreating back as she lifted her view from Neal's fussing. She slowly sighed and turned the pushchair toward Granny's, still not taking her eyes off her daughter as they both walked away from one another.
The pain was becoming unbearable. Emma felt her legs wobble unsteadily beneath her and sped her pace to remove herself from her mother's view as quickly as possible before she could let herself stop and rest to catch herself. The fear was beginning to creep in. Whatever was happening, whatever was causing the pain, she could no longer ignore it. She had brushed it off, assumed or convinced herself it was just being run down, the months of being the saviour just catching up with her body. But no matter how much she tried to let herself rest or recover, the pain was only getting worse, becoming more frequent, more severe.
As soon as she rounded the corner and found herself alone, Emma allowed herself to slump over a nearby wall and catch her breath, letting the structure support her weight as she felt dizziness flow over her.
She stayed hunched, breathing through the pain until her vision began to swim back into focus. Testing her legs gingerly, she took a few cautious steps to a nearby bench. Allowing herself to sit, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked at the empty street either side of her. Restraining herself from rolling her eyes at her own predicament, she began to accept that something wasn't right. She didn't want to admit it, but she knew what she was feeling in her chest, she'd felt it before. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind for now, gathering her strength to make it through lunch with Henry, a lunch she was already late for. Once she could get through that, then she could focus on fixing whatever was happening to her and finding whoever was responsible.
"Sorry I'm late!" Emma called out as she rushed into the Sheriff station, looking around for signs of her son. She smirked, dropping her bag onto the desk as she caught sight of him lying on his back on the bed in one of the open cells, earphones firmly in place and book held above his head, that he was clearly engrossed in. She stood, just watching him in awe, sometimes it was still hard to believe that he was really hers, that they really had a life together.
Emma was snapped from her reverie when Henry removed an earphone from his ear and she noticed he was looking at her with a grin. She lifted the paper bag from the desk and waved it in signal that lunch was there. Henry's grin widened and he bounded off the bed towards her to settle on the opposite side of the desk.
Emma's phone buzzed as she started on the second half of her grilled cheese. She paused with it inches from her mouth before choosing to ignore the phone and carry on eating.
"You going to get that?" Henry asked with a raised eyebrow.
"One of those stupid cold callers," Emma shrugged, taking a large bite of her lunch and slouching back in her chair. "They've been calling all morning."
"How do you know?" Henry stuttered, "You haven't even looked at the screen."
Emma squinted at him, giving him an almost sarcastic look, but lifted the phone nonetheless, making sure he couldn't see the screen. She saw her mother's name across the screen and raising her eyebrows to Henry, as though in challenge, pressed the end button, whilst lifting the phone to her ear, feigning answering the call. She faked conversation briefly before purposefully acting an end to the call.
"See, just a cold caller." She repeated to Henry as she set the phone back on the desk. She was glad when Henry seemed to accept her act without question.
"I almost forgot," Henry piped up as the two settled back into their lunch, "I've got pictures." He gave Emma an excited look as he began rummaging in his backpack beside him. In answer to her questioning look, he continued, "from the boat trip a couple of weeks ago. I said I'd show you."
"Oh, right." Emma laughed, finally understanding. He passed his camera over to his mother and carried on shovelling up his food as he expectantly watched her look over the pictures.
"That's me sailing," Henry voiced proudly as Emma looked at the picture of her son stood confidently at the wheel of the boat, her father stood a little way behind him. She smiled as she flipped through the different photographs, Henry and Snow, Henry and Neal, Snow and Charming, Henry and Regina. Emma laughed at a particularly unfocused picture of Snow glaring angrily at something just out of shot, the only clue to her anger was the arm in the corner of the photo.
"That's just before Mom poofed herself out," Henry sighed with a knowing smile. "She said she had work to do, but I think she'd just had enough of Grandpa and Gram's baby voices to Neal."
Emma laughed softly and carried on flipping through the pictures, but she was no longer really seeing them. A sombre expression flickered in her eyes.
"You can come next time, right?" Henry encouraged, seeing the brief sorrow glazing over his mother, "Grandpa said we could go again soon."
"Of course," Emma smiled, without any real conviction.
"There's videos too," Henry exclaimed as the thought popped into his mind. He grabbed the camera back to find what he was looking for and passed it back to Emma when his phone started to ring. He looked embarrassed for a second and Emma noticed the name flashing on the screen. She smirked at Henry's nerves.
"Go," she laughed, nodding her head toward the door and watching the relief on Henry's face as he rushed out with his phone, to speak to Violet in private.
"I'll be right back," he called from halfway out of the building.
Emma allowed herself a chuckle at how teenage her son had become and holding the last corner of her grilled cheese in her hand, she pressed play on the video on Henry's camera.
She watched the small screen as Henry stood at the boat's helm, gripping the wheel with one hand, and holding a smiling Neal in the other arm. The sound of David's laughter burst through the speaker as he filmed the touching scene. Emma watched for a few seconds, enjoying the sight of her son's laughter, before she noticed the pair in the background of the shot, sitting together clearly having a very tense and very private conversation. She saw Snow's eyes narrow defensively as Regina leaned toward her to speak something in a hushed voice, pointing accusingly at her.
Emma rewound the short clip and focused her attention on the two women. It was obvious they were so engrossed in their argument that they hadn't noticed the camera. They were too far away for the camera to pick up much, just the vague sound of hushed but angry tones. Only a few words carrying clear enough for the microphone to catch. Most was pointless, just vague "you" and "when" and then Emma caught her name. Rewinding the clip once more, she watched their lips. She wasn't exactly adept at lip reading, but it was clear enough to pick up her name at least twice, even if she could tell nothing else.
Emma shut off the camera angrily, slamming it onto the desk a little harder than she had intended. Whatever had caused their argument was unclear, but the one thing that was clear was that the conversation was unpleasant and it was about her. She couldn't help the feeling of violation that swept over her. She felt a little betrayed and exposed. Were they both complaining about her? Were they laying blame on each other for something she was or had done? The familiar nails began to pulse into Emma's chest and this time, accompanying it she felt a wave of anger and a prickle of tears threatening. She tried to block it out, but she just couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal, the feeling that she was alone.
A/N:
So...what was the fight about?
Will Henry find out how much Emma is lying to him and how will he react?
And will Emma work out what's happening to her?!
Please review and let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome!