AUTHORS NOTE: I appreciate all the constructive criticism, it's actually really helpful. So to the guests who reviewed last chapter, and those people who've been wondering the same things, Emma's family will be having a bigger part in the story from this chapter on. Secondly, Killian never really became Captain Hook, so in my mind, he never really grew into the person who would make bad choices when put under a lot of stress. He will make lots of bad choices, because that is the opposite of who he was in the Enchanted Forest, but him volunteering at the Women and Children's home, is a little part of him that didn't change. If I'm forgetting to address anything let me know! TRIGGER WARNING: Situations that may bring up traumatic memories will be marked off with the bolded KEKEKEKE
She drove past the Women and Children's home, not once, not twice, but three times, too many times for her to pretend that it was an accident. As she came up on the turn again, she took a deep breath in, and let it out, not once, not twice, but three times, too many times for her to pretend that she wasn't freaking out. She slowed down at the turn, eyeing it warily. Her hands moved on their own accord, spinning the wheel slightly to the right. The yellow bug turned, and she proceeded towards the non-descript building, surveying the surrounding area. It was nice, nicer than any of the foster homes, or the shelters she's stayed in in her almost eighteen years of life. The red brick building stood three stories high, and it was surrounded by trees. She pulled the bug into the small parking lot at the side of the building, and grabbed the backpack she had adopted as her own. She pulled herself out of the car, and walked towards the door. She paused, and looked up at the sky above her. It was heavy with thunder clouds, and as she pondered this new development, she felt a rain drop, and then another. Soon enough, she was soaked to the bone, her skin slick with the precipitation. But she just kept standing there, a puzzled look on her face. It was raining. It was raining in Storybrooke. It hadn't rained in Storybrooke for as long as she lived there, and that was a very long time. Over the patter of the rain, she heard the door creak open, and a voice called to her.
"Come on sweetie, you'll catch your death out here!" the woman called. Emma shook her head, snapping out of her dazed state, and hurried through the torrential downpour. The older woman pulled her into the lobby of the building, and shut the door behind them.
"How bout that huh? Hasn't rained here in forever!" she laughed. Emma nodded her head, pasting the fake smile that she mastered years ago on her face. The woman's grin faltered slightly, as if she could see through Emma's mask, but her eyes were still bright. "I'm Mary Margaret. I'm here Sundays, and Wednesdays after the elementary school gets out. I'm a teacher there." A small, genuine smile replaced the fake one on Emma's face.
"It's nice to meet you Mary Margaret. I'm Emma. Emma Swan."
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"Gold!" Regina snarled, barging into the pawn shop, her usual cool demeanor upset by the turn of the weather. Her makeup was smudged, and she dripped water onto Mr. Gold's polished floor. The man behind the counter looked up, a pleasant smile on his face, as he took in the mayor's predicament.
"Madam Mayor, what a pleasant surprise," he drawled in a voice that always served to make Regina's skin crawl.
"It's raining," she stated carefully. "Why is it raining?" Gold chuckled.
"Well dearie, when clouds become too heavy with water droplets—"he started.
"I'm aware of the mechanics Gold!" she screeched, her tone underlying with panic. "What I don't understand, is why things are changing." Gold stared at her, as if the answer should be obvious.
"The curse is breaking," he said blandly. "Now if that's all, I really must be getting back to work."
"Wait!" Regina cried. "It can't be breaking! I cursed the savior along with the rest of them!" Gold laughed, a low, sinister laugh, and turned around to face her.
"Tsk tsk. When are you going to learn Regina? Always remember to tie up your loose ends," he said menacingly. And with those final words, he spun around, and walked into the back of his shop, leaving the Mayor alone in the front room with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
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"Well come on dear let's get you settled." Mary Margaret said, guiding Emma into the next room, and ushering her into a chair on one side of the desk, and taking a seat on the other.
"Full name?" she started.
"Emma Ruth Swan," Emma replied, sitting back in the extremely comfortable chair, resting her hands on her swollen belly. She looked over at the clock. 7:30. I certainly can get a lot of stuff done before eight in the morning. I bet Neal isn't even up yet.
"Emma?" Mary Margaret called. Emma startled at the woman's voice, cringing, like she expected punishment for zoning out. Mary Margaret smiled a sad smile, familiar with Emma's reaction, because she had seen it all before.
"Your date of birth sweetie," she said soothingly. Emma wrung her hands.
"October 23, 1995." Emma replied, her voice shaking slightly. Mary Margaret looked up at her in surprise. Emma cringed at her look, knowing what the woman must be thinking. What kind of girl gets pregnant at eighteen? I've heard it all before, I've often wondered about it myself.
"Well Emma, take a look at the calendar." Mary said gently, moving so the girl could see it. The date came as a shock. With everything going on, she must've just lost track of time.
"Happy birthday Emma," the woman said kindly. Emma gaped at her, surprised at the sincere tone in her voice. The woman shot her a questioning glance, and before she could stop them, the words came tumbling out.
"It's been a while since someone's wished me a happy anything," she said quietly. Now it was Mary Margaret's turn to gape, but the woman didn't. Instead, she pushed herself up from her chair, and walked around the desk. She leaned down, gathering the girl in her arms, pulling her into her chest. It was strangely comforting, being hugged by this woman that she had known for all of a half hour. Mary Margaret released her grasp on Emma, and walked out of the room, gesturing for the girl to follow. Emma did without question, but not because she was afraid. She did it because she felt safe for some odd reason.
"It's time to go to show you your room," she called behind her, climbing the steps. Emma followed after her, becoming a little breathless as she ascended the stair case. Mary Margaret paused at the top of the stair case, and offered Emma a reassuring smile. They walked down the hallway together, and Mary Margaret stopped in front of a blue painted door, adorned with painted vines, which created the illusion of a beanstalk reaching towards the clouds. A beanstalk. Really Emma? Ignoring her childish thoughts, Emma watched as Mary Margaret opened the door, and stepped tentatively through the door frame.
"It's—It's great," Emma choked out, her eyes filling with tears. Mary Margaret misunderstood, fumbling to fix the situation.
"If you don't like it we can always—"but Emma cut her off.
"No Mary Margaret. Really, I love it," she said firmly, looking at the woman beside her. A genuine grin was plastered on both women's faces as Mary Margaret showed her around the room. As she was about to walk out the door, she suddenly turned back towards the girl.
"Emma, this is really important. I need to take your phone, and anything else the person you're trying to get away from can track okay? That means I'll need your car keys too," she said carefully, as to not set the poor girl off. Emma sighed, but nodded her head, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone, and her keys. Mary Margaret took them with a grateful smile, and turned to leave again.
"I'll have the other volunteer by you a burner phone, and when he gets here, he'll just drive your car around back and park it in the garage okay?" she asked. Emma nodded her response, and plopped down on the bed, careful not to jostle her arm. "I'll also call the doctor for your arm. You're supposed to get a cast right?"
"Yeah," Emma sighed.
"Alright cool beans," Mary Margaret said. "One last thing, breakfast is at 8:15, and while you may have already eaten, you should probably get acquainted with the other people staying here."
"How many are there?" Emma inquired curiously.
"Three. Two brothers, and a little girl," Mary Margaret replied. "See you then Emma!" She hurried down the stairs, leaving the girl to get comfortable in her new surroundings. When she reached the desk, she picked up the phone, and dialed the familiar number.
"Hello?" a gruff voice on the other end said.
"Killian! For once I'm glad you're running late," she said brightly.
"Whadya need Mary I'm trying to drive," he grumbled.
"I need you to pick up a burner phone," she replied, trying to make him curious.
"A new arrival?" he asked, his voice more interested.
"Yup," she said proudly. "So hurry up so you can be in time for breakfast alright?"
"Yes ma'am" he said, before hanging up the phone. She walked up the stairs again, but turned the opposite direction of Emma's new room, choosing to walk towards a dark red door, and a purple door at the end of the hall. She opened the purple door, and walked in, bending down next to the slumbering form of the girl in the bed. She placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, and shook it softly.
"Grace, it's time to get up," she cooed. Grace rolled over, but Mary Margaret saw that her eyes were open, and exited the room, proceeding across the hall. Grace was always easy to wake up. But the boys were another story. She threw open the door, knowing she needed to make a spectacular entrance to start the brutal procedure of getting the boys out of bed. Well, the older brother.
"Good morning Leo, good to see you brushing up on some reading," she said to the boy in the bed on the left, who was reading a book on fairy tales that she had given him for Christmas. She didn't expect him to reply. He never did. He simply nodded at her, and jumped up from his bed, heading down to the kitchen.
"Neal!" she called loudly, plopping down on the bed on the right, making the boy residing in it groan loudly. She pulled at his pillows, tossing them to the other bed across the room, and then started on his comforter, placing that by the door.
"Mary, just five more minutes," he pleaded, but she wasn't having any of it.
"Get up Neal, we have a new arrival," she ordered in a voice that alerted Neal to the fact that she was not to be trifled with. He sat up groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Satisfied, she blew out of the room, hustled down the stairs, and hurried towards the kitchen to help Leo set the table.