I'm surprised with the response I got for this. I actually apologize if it feels a little rushed. This was originally meant to just be a quick oneshot that's kind of developed into a little story. I don't really know how long it's going to be. But really, thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing and alerting and all that fun stuff. Feedback is always great.
Mary Margaret doesn't take the news well. Okay, that's an understatement…she throws a tantrum to end all tantrums, and if looks could kill, Dear Old Dad would be D.E.A.D. I've slowly come to realize that Mary Margaret and Snow White are two completely separate animals, and Mommy has a temper. A bad one. I sit at the counter, closely examining a fork while David attempts to soothe Mary Margaret after banishing poor Henry to the bedroom. (Of course, we all know the crafty little sneak is probably standing in the hallway listening to every damn word.)
"You're not going," Mary Margaret repeats as she's been doing for the better part of ten minutes, furiously sautéing vegetables in butter for the Fajitas she's making for dinner. Meeting her husband's eyes, she glares into them, "She's not going."
"Snow…" He sighs pleadingly, trying to placate her and, to his credit, trying to support me all at once. Poor guy would have never survived raising me.
"No!" She cries shrilly, piercing me to the core. It's not the cry of someone who is angry. It's the cry of someone who is terrified. That's when I see it. She's not being stubborn, obstinate Snow White. She's a worried mother. Which only makes me feel like pure crap, given what we just went through together. "Please," Her eyes turn to me, imploring me, "Emma, we just got home. We've barely spent any time with you."
"Mary Margaret…" I begin, setting the fork aside (it hasn't changed in the last ten minutes) and moving around the counter to her. She gives me a strange look, but shakes her head as if scolding herself. I take her hands, "I will be back by tomorrow night. Okay. All I'm asking for is twenty-four hours. One day."
"I can't," Mary Margaret says desperately, "What if something happens?"
"I'll have August and his stubble to protect me," I quip before darkening, "Besides, I made it on my own for twenty-eight years…I'll be okay for one day." Her eyes fill to the brim and panic begins to thrum throughout my body, making my fingers twitch. I'm torn between the urge to flee and the urge to pull her in for a hug. I choose the latter. "I will call you every hour on the hour, you crazy, over-protective badass." Laughing, I pull back and look into her eyes, which are identical to mine. I can't believe I never noticed before. I can't bring myself to look at David, who also has suspiciously shining eyes. "Come on, you guys…don't do this to me," I groan, looking between them. "After this, I promise no more road trips."
"We're not trying to tell you what to do, Emma," David interjects, "Obviously we know that those days are long gone. But, you need to know things have changed, kiddo, and you will be missed dearly."
The reaction is involuntary and instantaneous. Seemingly of its own accord, my face crumples and I burst into ugly tears, burying my face in my hands. At once, I surrounded on each side by a parent. This is embarrassing as hell, and I'm sure not given to random outbursts of emotion. The walls I've so painstakingly built around my heart are not just coming down, they're being crushed by the overwhelming love that just pours out of these two all the time. I love it and hate it all at once. But I allow the contact, because even though my mind is screaming at me to get the heck out of this emotional train wreck, my heart wouldn't allow it if I tried. Maybe I have two different selves too. I sigh resignedly and give into it.
"Come on, Henry," I give a watery laugh, "I know you're over there. Get in here." Three seconds later, he crashes into my front, wrapping his arms around my waist. I bury my face in his hair, smelling the baby shampoo he still uses , and I smile despite being both heartbroken and ecstatic. I love him. I've never been so sure of anything, but I love him more than I've ever loved anything and it scares the living crap out of me. Everything I do, I do for him…even if it means getting this favor for Gold out of the way so I can start living my life with him.
The knock at the door brings us out of family bonding time, which is kind of a relief. I'm slowly getting used to this hugging thing, but there's still only so much I can take. I've never been an overly affectionate person. The only person I ever really did show affection to, royally screwed me. Literally.
"That must be August," I mutter, pulling away and striding toward the door, wiping under my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket as I open the door.
It's not August. It's Archie, shifting nervously from foot to foot. In his hand is a withered, folded piece of paper that he looks like he's been unfolding and refolding repeatedly. A light sheen of sweat glistens on his pale skin.
"Jesus, Archie," I gasp, dragging him inside, "You okay?"
"I…uh…" His eyes flit to Henry for a second and then to my parents. "Pin – August left this at the diner. Ruby just gave it to me. She seemed pretty upset, so I figured I would bring it on my way back to the office." Swallowing, he hands me the paper, which has August's tiny, masculine scrawl on it.
Emma-
I just can't do it. Please don't hate me. I've always tried to do right by you.
I'm sorry.
-AWB
"What is he talking about?" Archie asks, looking at me over his glasses. "I just got off the phone with Marco…he said August took off, packed a bag and just left."
"He was supposed to help me," I mutter, dropping the note and sitting at the counter with my head in my hands, "I'm looking for someone…and he knew where to find him. Now, I'm screwed."
"Who are you looking for?" Archie inquires cautiously, glancing at Henry, who is silent.
"Gold's son," I answer grimly, tiredly accepting a cup of tea from Mary Margaret and taking a sip.
"Oh, I see," Archie's voice is quiet, but he does not sound surprised, which is kind of weird to me, but I'm in no condition to care. August actually knows the guy…what he looks like, where he lives. What do I know about him?
He may or may not look like a three hundred year old drawing and he lives in New York. Wow. My first thought is to call his foster mom again, but she hasn't seen "Peter" in years and chances are the guy is about as slippery as his shady dad.
"Look, Emma…" Archie starts hesitantly, "There's some stuff you need to know about…August. You know, Pinocchio." He sighs and clasps his hands, "Pinocchio got into some trouble before he was turned into a real child by the Blue Fairy. He's always had a little trouble with lying and with temptation. But, what I'm about to tell you was not his fault."
"What is it, Archie?" David asks, leaning against the counter and putting his arm around Mary Margaret.
"We weren't…entirely…truthful when we told you there was only enough magic for one to come through the wardrobe," He blurts, looking more than a little sick to his stomach.
"What do you mean?" Mary Margaret's voice is soft, but full of suspicion. Her eyes are dark, almost as if she knows what's coming. And that's when I put it together. August and I came through that wardrobe together. Two of us came through. We told you there was only enough magic for one to come through…
The biggest betrayal of all. I didn't have to grow up alone in this world. I was forced to. I don't want to hear the explanation, because I know where it's going and I know how hard it's going to hit Mary Margaret and David.
Which curse is worse?
I realize I don't want them to know. I need to protect them from this, because despite all of the lying and manipulation that's happened to us, we're finally healing. I don't think I can stand to see that pain in their eyes now. So, I quickly reach across the table and put my hand over Archie's to stop him. As discreetly as I can, I give a slight shake of my head, and plead with my eyes. This is my secret…my burden to bear. These two have already risked everything to save my life. They gave up raising their own child so that everyone could be saved. It's time for me to give them their best chance.
"Archie?" David urges, looking worriedly from me to Mary Margaret.
"They were right," I cut in, calling on every single power of bullshitting I've ever possessed, "There was only enough magic for one adult person..." I avoid Archie's gaze as I go on, "But there was enough for two children."
"What?" Mary Margaret asks in a hushed voice, "How do you know?"
"It was in the book," I lie swiftly, "They decided to put Pinocchio in the wardrobe with me so that I wouldn't have to be alone since I was a newborn." Henry says nothing, thankfully, but is watching me curiously because he knows I am so full of it, it's coming out my ears. I nod at him, letting him know that he's in on it. But oddly, I'm not worried about him. If anyone knows about keeping secrets, it's him. I don't know which Operation we're on now, but he's always got my back. And I love him for it.
All I know is, everyone has suffered enough. And, if I can spare one more person heartache by telling a small lie, then I don't care. Any parent would have done the same as Geppetto and as Snow White did for their child. I would have done it for Henry. It doesn't make the betrayal hurt less, but I understand it. And really, if it hadn't happened the way it had, there might be no Henry. Despite the agony that led to his existence, I would do it all again in a heartbeat, knowing what I do about him.
He's the best thing I've ever done.
I'm not the reason the curse is broken…he is. Everything I did was because of him. So really, even though I am supposed to be the 'savior'…I know the truth; Henry is my savior. My only regret is that I haven't been here to see every smile. Every laugh. Every tear and scrape and nightmare. It frightens me how much he means to me after only one year. I can't imagine what it would have felt like after eleven. I love Henry as I've never loved anyone, not even the man who fathered him. And I did love his father with everything I had.
It just would have all been so much easier with him there. I always felt like anything was possible with Neal. Maybe, I would have believed faster.
But how would you have found this place? A small, nagging voice in the corner of my subconscious sneers, and I almost cringe, because I know it's right. I needed to lose Neal to find Storybrooke…and my parents…and Henry. Does it make what Neal did to me hurt any less? No. Not even a little. But, I'm no longer alone. I have friends. I have a home. I have a family…as cheesy and cliché as that sounds.
"August came through with me. He looked out for me for my entire life and made sure I knew to come back for you guys," I explain, leaving out the fact that he abandoned me and took off with a group of kids. That's not the important part right now.
"Which explains why he's grown," David nods, visibly relaxing and setting me at ease. Henry gives me a questioning look, but I shake my head to signal that now is not the time.
"Right," I agree, looking at Archie, who seems more than a little shell shocked. That's one bullet dodged. "Look," I sigh agitatedly, "I have to call this guy back."
"You already have the address, Emma," David reminds me, "I still think it's a bad idea for you to go alone."
"And who would you suggest I take with me?" I ask, feeling very uncharitable at the moment. "Regina?"
"Emma," Mary Margaret interjects gently, and I can tell she is fighting every urge she has to be reasonable, "New York is not the safest place on a good day…and if this man is some sort of criminal, you should probably be careful. I mean, you did say he's changed his name what, like three times?"
"At least twice," I reluctantly allow, running a hand through my hair. "Look you guys," I start again, ignoring the awkward vibes oozing out of Archie, "I know you're worried, but the fact is, I can handle this. I can do this in my sleep. I once took down a guy who was six foot seven and three hundred pounds. You just have to trust me." I drop a quick kiss on Henry's head, and cup his chin. "Take care of these two, okay? Make sure they don't burn the place down." He doesn't respond, but dashes into his bedroom, and I can hear it close behind him, making me feel horribly guilty. I turn to David and Mary Margaret. "We good?" Mary Margaret pulls me in for another quick hug.
"Go do what you have to do, Emma," She tells me resignedly, "But you come back to us," She says fiercely. I smile, despite myself. When we let go, I nod to David and take the badge off of my belt. "Hold down the fort, 'kay." He takes the badge and wordlessly pulls me into yet another embrace. (Seriously, these people are killing me here.)
"Be careful," He whispers raggedly, causing a really big lump to form in my throat and prevent me from verbally responding, so I just nod, unblinking and willing my eyes not to overflow. Before I can pull away, David presses a kiss to my forehead, which is the most outwardly loving thing he's done to me.
"See ya," I manage to say, swallowing and meeting Archie's eyes, nodding toward the door and tearing my eyes away from them. Once in the hallway, Archie touches my arm.
"Why did you do that?" He asks, sounding pained, "Why didn't you let me tell them the truth?"
"For what?" I ask tiredly, "So they can have another betrayal to deal with?" I look into his eyes, tears forgotten. "It wasn't right what happened…but I understand it. Believe me." He looks down at his feet. "What do you know about Gold's son?" I demand to know, making him start in surprise.
"N-Nothing…"
"Bullshit. You weren't even surprised when I said that's who I'm looking for," My voice is low, full of warning, causing his hands to go up defensively.
"I just…when he thought August was his son, he came to me for advice. That's all, Emma!" He promises, paling slightly. I glare into his eyes for a moment and can see he's telling the truth, so I relax.
"Okay," I breathe, feeling a little bit of tension melt away. "Sorry. If you see August, can you tell him he's an asshole for me?"
"Yeah," Archie chuckles, "Though I'm sure he knows. I know he has his problems, Emma, but I really do think he's a good guy."
"Me too," I answer through gritted teeth, "That's why I'm so irritated with him. He needs to stop running away from every problem he has!"
"Just remember," He murmurs softly, "he had to grow up alone too…everyone deals with life differently. Some of us are fighters…but, some of us flee. August isn't as strong as you are, Emma." His eyes fall to his watch and he gasps, "Oh no. I'm late for my session with Lucy!" He cries, looking at me. I stare blankly at him, as I have no idea who Lucy is. He doesn't offer an explanation either, only a quick apology before darting to his car. I shake my head, slipping into the driver's seat of mine and starting the engine. I glance up at Henry's bedroom window and feel a pang in my chest as I pull away from the curb. I hope he isn't too angry with me for leaving so soon after getting back. I hope someday he'll understand that this is all for him.
It starts around three in the morning, the second I finally manage to get comfortable and close my eyes. I feel a warm trickle between my legs, and I wonder for a second if I've wet myself. Struggling to sit up, I brace myself against the wall and check my pants. This is too much to be me wetting myself and I'm guessing that the cramps I've been having since dinner aren't indigestion…he's coming.
Uh oh…
I try to alert the night guard at the end of the hall, and I'm greeting with a sharp, shooting pain in the small of my back, making me cry out.
"Help!" I yell, hoping she hears me. "Help me!" A few seconds later, three guards are at the door of my cell and I'm being ushered out in cuffs to be taken to the hospital. It hurts already, and I feel a sudden flash of panic, because this person that I've spent all of my time with for the past nine months will be gone tomorrow. I don't know him. I don't know his name or anything about him. But the thought of not having him with me anymore, makes me want to curl up and cry for days. But it doesn't change anything; an eighteen year old convict can't raise a kid with nothing but a stolen car and love. How could I ever be a mother when I never had one of my own? And maybe part of me is scared that I'm like she was and I'll get sick of him and leave him on the side of a road when things get rough.
I've made sure that will never happen to him.
I was approached by an adoption agency and assured that he was going to a very wealthy home and would be well taken care of. The records will be closed so that he'll never know about the girl who gave him up and the incredible shit fest that led to his birth. All he'll know is comfort and love with a family who wanted him. He won't ever have to deal with the flawed foster system of this country and the sick people who are part of it under the guise of caring about children. He will never feel like he doesn't belong anywhere, even though it kills me that he doesn't belong with me. That's why he can't ever know who I am, because if he ever did find me, I don't think I could give him up twice.
After thirteen hours of labor and the most excruciating pain, he finally comes at a healthy eight pounds, with a full head of dark, dark hair. I never take my eyes off of him, this nameless stranger who is the only family I have in this world, and watch them clean and wrap him, and then, of all things, the nurse brings him to me and places him in my arms as if it's the most natural thing in the world. I can only hold him with one arm since my other is handcuffed to the side of the hospital bed, but it's enough. He's sturdier than I thought he would be, and he's awake and staring expectantly up at me with these expressive eyes that seem to see right into my soul. My chest literally hurts, because even at less than an hour old, he looks exactly like Neal…and I hate Neal for that.
"Hey, kid," I say, relieved no one is in the room, save for a female guard near the door, though she's talking on the phone. "I don't know about you, but I am whipped." The baby scrunches his face a little, but he doesn't cry, which I am grateful for. "Listen, uh…I know you won't remember me, or this, but I just want you to know it's not that I don't want you, okay? I do. But, I still have five months left to serve, and I have no money and no one to take care of you until I'm out of prison. Some mom, huh? But, don't worry…I made sure you won't ever have to deal with the system like I did. This lady, she's…well, I don't know her or anything, but she really wants you and that's gotta count for something, right? She has money and a nice house. That's all I know, and I don't even think I'm supposed to know that. I know that we won't see each other again after this, and I have no idea who you'll become or even what your name will be, but just don't be like me or your dad, okay?" My eyes begin to sting and I can feel my resolve slipping, so I shake my head as if that's going to stop my tears. It doesn't. "I'm so sorry, kid," I sob, "I wish I had something to offer you, but I don't. You need your best chance. I'm not it."
An hour later, they come for him. The matronly lady from the adoption agency gingerly takes him from my arms and gives me an apologetic smile. That's when he starts to cry, and he doesn't stop as she carries him from the room and out of my life.
I snap out of my thoughts when I see the sign up ahead that says LEAVING STORYBROOKE. I tense, waiting for the inevitable crash…or deer…or something that will stop me from leaving, but nothing happens and I can see nothing but open road and miles of trees. I turn to look back in the rearview mirror and see through the back window the sign that says 'WELCOME TO STORYBROOKE.' The only thing I notice is the barely visible lavender mist that sits, unmoving at the border of the town.
One priority at a time, Emma.
How different would things have been if Henry hadn't come to my doorstep last August? If I had never found this town with these people? That's when reality hits me. I know nothing about this guy. I don't know what he looks like or even what kind of person he is. I mean, he's (allegedly) about three hundred years old…ish. As much as it bothers me to admit, I am really not looking forward to facing this one alone. Even though August is a shady little bastard sometimes, he doesn't put me on edge like Hook did. No one should ever be that cunning and sexy at the same time. It almost makes me thankful for my time in Phoenix. Almost. I caught Aurora staring at him a few times. A pang of sadness pierces me as I think of the two girls who helped us get home. I miss them. I know Mary Margaret does too and I really hope that they're safe.
"Well, we made it out of town!" A voice says from behind me, making me scream and slam on the brakes. Turning to look over my shoulder, I see him sitting there, giving me a mischievous little grin that he certainly didn't inherit from me. I sigh in frustration.
"Henry!"