AN: This is a little something that I wanted to write in honor of Emma Swan's birthday. It's not quite what I intended it to be, but I hope you enjoy!
She is five years old and there is cake and Mr. and Mrs. Swan clustered around her as they encourage her to blow out the single birthday candle.
"Make a wish, Emma." Her adoptive mother says with a gentle smile. Her hand rubs Emma's arm and she looks at the soft blonde hair framing the woman's face and pretends, not for the first time, that this is her birth mother. Emma's eyes focus back on the flickering light of the candle. She squeezes them shut and blows the air out of her tiny lungs, wishing for this home to last.
/
She is eleven years old and there are no presents or birthday greetings.
Emma steals a candle and matchbox from the convenience store a block down from the group home. After everyone else has gone to bed, she pulls the covers over her head and lights the wick, holding the candle precariously in her hand, worried about the dripping wax.
Her eyes begin to sting and she closes them, the involuntary hitch of her breath almost blowing out the flame. She wishes for someone she could have spent this day with.
/
She is eighteen years old and Neal scrounges for enough cash to buy her a cupcake.
The candle is yellow, her favorite, and Emma is touched that he remembered. Enough so that when she unwraps the necklace Neal gifts her, Emma ignores the fact that they both know it's stolen. She kisses him instead, murmurs I love you against his lips.
When Neal pulls out a lighter to spark the candle, Emma shuts her eyes and sucks in a breath. Taking his hand, she breaths out and wishes that they might get to celebrate her next birthday in their own place.
/
She is thirty-two years old and she wakes to a pirate's kiss.
It's still dark out, but Emma is wide awake as Killian's lips trail down her neck, across her collarbone and continue lower. The sheets are tangled and his skin is warm against hers.
"Happy birthday, darling." he whispers against her temple when they are both drifting back to sleep.
Emma wakes a second time to the sun outside the window and Killian's breath against her cheek. She rouses him and they make themselves decent enough to enter the kitchen where Henry has started breakfast.
The day passes in a blur of sun and ocean and gifts, and by the end Emma is glad to flop down on the couch at her parent's loft. She kicks her feet up on the coffee table, where there is cake and her family clustered around her as they encourage her to blow out the candle.
"Make a wish, Mom." Henry grins. His elbow nudges Emma's arm and she looks at her son, marveling that it has been four years. Her eyes fall on her parents and her little brother, on Regina, and finally on Killian, his thumb stroking the back of Emma's hand. She turns back to the candle before closing her eyes.
Puffing out a breath, Emma wishes for nothing at all.