I was able to get another chapter in before we have to change internet service providers again for the move. This is a shorter chapter, but important to how things work out.
Robin sat the driver's seat, holding his phone at an odd angle to avoid the sun's glare on the screen. His lips were parted slightly as he read the list of possible addresses to himself. "Either he's hiding from the law or he's got a bunch of unpaid debts. This man moves around more than anyone I've ever seen." He leaned forward to peer under the visor. "Doesn't look like he's moving up in the world."
"I'm willing to bet it is a legal thing," Emma said, twisting in the passenger seat to look back at Killian. The salesman was currently on hold with his boss's fiancé to see if she could garner the information on Edward Black or Edward Teach from human resources. She had a way with the staff there, much better than Killian who usually was told his request would take four to six weeks. That went for everything from requesting office supplies to a change to his benefits package. "I don't see people move that often for some student loans or credit cards."
"I don't know," Robin droned, snapping back up as someone pulled in a few doors down. "That Sallie Mae can be a bit of a wanker when it comes to people owing her money."
Emma gave a short laugh, focusing her attention on Killian. "Any luck?" she asked. She had yet to call Elsa with an update, as they were not even sure if there was any progress. It was all pretty vague at the moment. Killian simply shook his head, holding the phone close to his ear with the tinny sound of canned music trilling softly. "You know you look pretty at home in the back of a squad car." She smiled at his annoyed expression.
"While you're plotting ways to kill your girlfriend for that remark, mate," Robin said, straining his neck to look through one of the car's mirrors at the space behind them, "be sure to keep your eyes peeled for the pirate man. "You're the one who knows what this bloke looks like. Our image is a bit skewed."
Emma typed a message to David into her phone that was responded to only seconds later. "David said that the judge is considering giving us the warrant for questioning," Emma confirmed. He's there now pleading our case."
Robin nodded, eyeing the passersby with idle curiosity. "That's good, I guess." He tried the best he could to stretch in the crowded bench seat. "Is it appropriate for me to ask why he's not using the papa connection? His father's the district attorney."
"That relationship isn't always the best," Emma reminded her co-worker. She wasn't even sure what the current issue David was having with his father was about. She could assume that it was something to do with Mary Margaret and the engagement, but it could be so many other things. "I am glad to see him stepping out a bit on his own."
Robin accepted that answer, nodding absently. "I'm a bit hungry," he said, breaking the silence again. "Anyone care for some snacks." He quickly explained to Killian that while the patrol car was outfitted with equipment, weapons, and other accessories, the deputies kept their favorite snack foods in the car too. Emma warned that it was not exactly that great first impression for Killian to law enforcement.
"It's not a stakeout and we just ate," she reminded him. "It's not time to break out the Cheetos and Kool-Aid." Those were actually John's preferences. Graham always went with bear claws and coffee, while Robin preferred jerky and sugary soda. Emma went for cold Chinese food.
Grumbling, Robin sank lower in the seat muttering to himself about unfair rules and boredom. Emma might have responded, but she heard Killian's excited voice thanking Ariel. "Brilliant, lass," he said enthusiastically. "I'm in your debt. Be sure to tell that lad you're insisting upon marrying that I shall take you both out for dinner soon."
Emma stared at him expectantly, her left eyebrow raising as he so often did. She half expected him to wink at the woman on the other end of the phone and was thankful it wasn't a Facetime or Skype discussion. When he ended the call, she all but said, "What?" in her both frustrated tone.
"We're at the right place," Killian answered, wiping the phone against his leg before dropping it into his jacket pocket. "He came into the offices about a week before the two went missing. He was asking about cashing out his 401K, as he had need of a little liquidity."
Robin nodded along as though he had already heard this. "Man needs money. Man and boat disappear." He appeared to be checking off some invisible list. "Makes sense to me."
Emma rolled her eyes, tapping out another message for David as Robin waxed nostalgic. "Back in the day, the quickest communication was morse code across the telegraph. We've not moved that much farther, only more mobile."
Killian's mouth opened, but shut it quickly as Emma's phone rang with a call of David. She and Robin quickly changed into their more strategic modes, Emma pointing out exits and possible weak points as Robin begins calculating which windows might be Edward's. Killian was watching in awe, a bit shocked to see Emma's cunning on display like that. However, his mood soured as she removed her service revolver from her shoulder holster and checked it with precision. She seemed rather cold compared to her earlier disposition. "David's on his way with the warrant. Killian, you're to move up here to the front of the car. Promise me that you won't come inside the building. We need you to stay put."
Killian looks almost confused that she would not see the need for him. He wasn't quite sure what he would do in the situation to help, but the idea of sitting still while she runs into possible danger seemed somehow wrong. He was grappling with the words to explain that to her when she signed and nodded in the direction of an approaching truck.
Robin saw Killian's expression in the mirror. "It's alright, mate. This is hardly one of our worst situations." With instructions for Killian to stay put, Emma and Robin were both out of the car and walking toward the building. Unlike the movies, the two of them were not holding their guns at the ready. Instead, they were walking swiftly and with laser focus. He'd seen Emma in more than a few moods since meeting her at that bar. There was her sarcastic and caustic mood that she used to brush people aside. There was her sultry and sexy demeanor when she was in bed with him. There was a sweetness to her when she was cuddled up with him or doing something for one of her friends. There was a nurturing side when he'd seen her speak to her son. He'd seen the angry, the happy, the humorous, the proud. All of them were uniquely part of Emma Swan. However, this part of her struck him even more than before. The strength of her resolve was something he already knew. However, with it on display he could not help but feel a bit inadequate.
He was not used to the fear and apprehension of watching her march off into an unknown situation. He'd known that she was a deputy, known that she was in a dangerous profession. But the picture of her walking into that building was not something he was prepared to see.
***AAA***
Emma's eyes darted about the hallway of the building, looking for anything that might seem misplaced. It was an older building with sagging floors and creaking wood that would have driven her insane with the constant groans and aches of age. Holding herself in the ready position, she was barely thinking of anything other than finding this man and making him tell about Anna and Kris.
David was next to her with Robin trailing and keeping one glance trained behind them. "Anything seem odd to you?" he asked, walking gingerly around the debris on the floor.
Robin answered no when Emma interrupted. "It's a family building," she commented lowly. "I'm not seeing a lot of singles here." She counted the doors again, frowning at the realization. "At least two and three bedroom places."
"Not a typical choice for a bachelor with financial difficulties," Robin chimed in as they passed by one apartment with a television blaring some children's program. "Interesting."
David looked the most concerned, considering what few facts they had on this man other than his obsession with a dead pirate and his lack of funds. "Could he be married?"
Emma considered the idea for a moment. "No wedding ring in the photo, but I guess that could be…"
David was clearly going for something else, his frustration evident. However, his observations were lost as a group of children ran past them in the hallway, practically knocking into the three with the exuberance. Robin grumbled something about children having no respect, but the trio did not vary from their walk to the door of the apartment.
It was David that knocked, a good three times and then once again for good measure. He called out that they were from Storybrooke Sheriff's Department, but there was no answer and no sound of rustling or movement in the confines of the apartment. Emma stared at the door as though it might suddenly reveal the man's whereabouts.
"I'll see about the manager," Robin offered to a nodding David.
***AAA***
"Ms. Blanchard?" Henry asked, coming up to his teacher resting his hands on her desk next to a stack of graded vocabulary assignments. It was a morning ritual with her students that they checked each other's work and she recorded the grades before giving them back to them before lunch. She was running a bit late today. "Can I ask you something?"
Mary Margaret looked startled for someone to be speaking in the quiet classroom. While she usually still had them in her room, her students were across the hall watching a movie about chromosomal pairs with another class. The small break gave her the opportunity to rest for a moment, as she was still tired from the night before.
"You're supposed to be across the hall, Henry," the teacher told him, her firm line of a mouth given away by her smiling eyes.
"I snuck out," he answered, then realized what he said. "I mean I…"
"You're getting too good at that," Mary Margaret acknowledged. "We need to do something about that, but you're here so let's ask the question."
"Do you think I'm anything like her?" he asked, his eyes dropping down to the paper in his hand. "I don't have her hair color or eye color. I don't…"
Her eyes blew open in surprise. "You mean Emma?" she asked, drawing her lips together and blowing out a single puff of air. "I don't that this is the time…"
Defeated, his shoulders dropped down. "I just thought since you know her and all that you could tell me. I've always wondered."
She bit her lip nervously, watching the boy shift in front of her like he was waiting for bad news. "You are smart like she is," the teacher offered him. "She never really had to study. Never had time for it, but she could ace a test by reading the chapter once. That's something, right?"
He nodded, a small smile growing slowly on his face. "Does she like…"
"Henry, I think you need to go back to the movie, okay? You can ask her about some of your similarities later. Maybe you and Dr. Hopper can make a list of them. That way you're prepared." She tried not to imagine Emma's reaction to her son's incessant questioning, as the blonde would probably choke at some of them. Digging through the piles of paper on her desk, Mary Margaret pulled out a sheet of paper with the vocabulary homework grades on it. "By the way, good job on your homework last night. I know you didn't have much time to put into it, but you did great."
He smiled almost shyly, nodding his head at her. "Thanks, Ms. Blanchard." He hesitated. "I didn't mean to ask too much. It's just I've always wondered about her. And now I've actually met her. She's pretty nice."
"Emma is very nice," the teacher concurred. "Henry, I know this is going to take some getting used to for you, Regina, and Emma, but I think it will work out well. Emma…well, Emma has always wondered about you. She has always cared about you and hoped that things were going well."
He nodded again, the homework rustling in his hand. "Do you think it's okay that I want to get to know her. I don't want to hurt my mom, but she's kind of my mom too." There was a flush about his cheeks, whether from excitement or nervousness. "I don't want it to be like a competition."
"You love your mom," Mary Margaret said, choosing her words carefully. "Just be sure to let her know that isn't changing."
***AAA***
Killian had never felt so helpless as he did sitting between two people in the waiting room of Storybrooke General Hospital waiting for news on Emma. Fingers digging into his palms, he scanned the doors for any sign of official word as to her condition. It had been a nightmare of a scenario playing out before him as he had sat in the patrol car waiting, much like he was now. The first sign that something had gone wrong was the gun shot, followed by a scattering of locals and then David emerging with Edward in handcuffs.
The sheriff was grim faced as he had told Killian to vacate the patrol car and proceeded to place the man in the back of it as he barked orders into his radio. Most of the orders involved codes and acronyms that Killian didn't understand, but the salesman wasn't paying that close of attention as he stared at the doorway and waited for Emma to emerge.
After several minutes, Killian turned to David, who was still barking orders. David's eyes turned sympathetic at the look that Killian was shooting between him and the door. "She's fine, but she fell down the stairs. It's not a big deal, but I want to get an EMT to check her out."
The air seemed to fall out of him, leaving him hollow and heavy at the same time. His eyes searched David's expression for a clue of how fine Emma actually was at that moment. Did fine mean a few bruises? Did it mean broken bones? Was she hurt? Was she scared? His gut reaction was to run for the entrance, but the other state police officers had already arrived and were removing people from the scene – protocol for when someone discharges a gun.
"They'll have her out in a minute," David told him, placing a reassuring and firm hand on his shoulder.
It was Robin who came out first with the two EMT's trailing behind and bringing Emma out on a carry stretcher. She was certainly awake, complaining that she was fine and yelling to David that she wanted to question Edward. That at least put Killian somewhat at ease until he overheard Robin mention to the EMT that she had hit her head pretty hard on the fall and that she showed signs of other issues.
At that point Killian must have made a sound, as everyone out on the sidewalk turned toward him. He wanted reassurances, but at least their faces weren't sympathetic. Robin pushed him toward David's truck, catching the keys with his right hand and guiding Killian with his left. They had arrived more than half an hour before, but still no word on Emma.
"Can't be that bad," Robin said, pushing a lukewarm cup of coffee into Killian's hand and sitting across from him. "We'd hear her yelling. When my late wife had Roland, I could hear her down the hall before I even got to the room. She screamed like a bloody banshee, but all the nurses and the doctor acted like that was normal." Robin leaned a bit forward, elbows on his knees. "Women are tough, much tougher than we are sometimes. I don't doubt Emma is probably fighting them tooth and nail over something back there. No doubt about it."
"Aye, I hope you're right, mate," Killian offered. He knew that Emma was strong, but his own strength was more in question. He hated feeling helpless, even more so when it was in such a setting. Though he couldn't remember ever feeling that out of control before, his mind wandered without provocation to images that tore his heart in two. He'd learned that it was Edward who had shot at them. Emma had been maneuvering herself out of the line of fire when she fell. But what if she had been shot? His mind raced with the idea of her dying or being seriously hurt because of her job. How was he supposed to deal with that? How was he supposed to cheerfully see her off to work and pretend that there was not a possibility that she wouldn't make it back? He wanted a future with her, whatever shape that took. But her job meant that the future he wanted might not ever happen.
It was Victor who came out to greet Killian, his white coat demeanor different than his pool playing at the Rabbit Hole. "We're letting her go in a few minutes, but you can see her," the doctor said, flipping through a stack of charts until he found the right one. "Slight strain, but nothing too serious. She's going to be tough to keep down, but some ice and rest should help immensely. Nothing too strenuous, but light walking and such won't hurt."
"Any sign of a head injury?" he asked, not recognizing his own voice. The doctor thankfully assured him not and led him with a point down to the curtained off area where Emma sat in the same outfit as before with the exception of the boots that she had placed next to the bed.
"I'm fine," she announced as he made a knocking sound with his mouth to announce his arrival and ask permission to enter the space. "You didn't have to…"
He raised a single eyebrow in response. "I believe we had this same conversation last night, love. I am sticking by your side if you have to meet your son after 10 years or if you fall down a flight of stairs. I consider it to be a perk of the job of being your boyfriend."
She was trying not to smile at him, lips twitching as she frowned. "David's interviewing him, isn't he?" She reached into the pocket of the coat she had folded next to her, pulling out her phone and texting away with presumably David. She muttered a few things under her breath and looked back at him. "Were they headed to the state offices or to the local station?"
"I'm not privy to that information, darling," he said, taking a hesitant step toward the bed. He wanted to comfort her, hold her tight to him and let her wash away the fear of the confrontation with unshed tears and words. However, she was looking at him like she expected a status report and not like she wanted to be held.
Her frown deepened, the lines on her forehead more prominent with her concentration. "I don't know which makes more sense," she said more to herself than him. Her top teeth bit into her lip, leaving a small indentation. "David's not answering…"
"Emma," Killian said. Her lack of answer made him say her name again louder. "Emma, you're in a hospital. You're injured. You could have been killed. Would you stop worrying about…"
Her eyes flashed with a deep seated pain that he had not seen before from her. "This is my job, Killian. It's my career. I have to do it. I have to find Elsa's sister. It's important."
His frown was even stronger than her own, his body rocking backwards as if she had hit him. "Aye, I understand that, but David is capable. He's the bloody sheriff, not you. Let him take care of this for a bit so you have a chance to recover."
She wasn't seeing the fear in his eyes, not understanding that it was concern and not doubt fueling him. "You wouldn't understand," she said, falling back on that standard statement that so many used. "Your job isn't like this. I have to find out what's going on." She pushed herself off the bed and half limped her way toward the nurse's station.
"Emma," he called after her. "I'll see what Robin knows. Just come back and rest. You're supposed to…" She was already stating her demands to be released to a nurse and holding her phone to her ear where she was telling David's voicemail that she was on her way. For the first time since meeting Emma, Killian was not sure he truly understood what made the woman tick.