Chapter Two: Out of the Dark
'How could I not even know?' Emma keeps asking herself, the disturbing words running circles in her mind like an endless refrain. 'Why didn't Graham tell me?' The detectives have taken she and Henry to a larger room where they've set Henry up with a blanket and pillow in an armchair in the corner and he has now curled up and gone back to sleep. Emma tries to comfort herself with the small blessing that he must not be too traumatized if he can sleep so easily. She can't say the same for herself.
There were so many questions about Spencer, his other employees and underlings, the layout of the casino, and countless other details, that she had begun to feel interrogated – as if she was the suspect. Head spinning, eyes burning from lack of sleep and turbulent emotion, Emma had finally snapped at the detectives questioning her, and they had left her alone. Now she is sitting all alone with her sleeping son, awaiting the arrival of the FBI agents assigned to her case. Apparently, Spencer himself is only a lieutenant of a larger crime ring on the East Coast – one that the Feds have been after for years. That blast of information only returns Emma to the same disbelieving numbness and shocked anger she started with. 'How was I so completely in the dark?' she keeps wondering. Suddenly it seems that her life for the last six years has not been real, but some sort of waking dream turned into a nightmare.
She decides that whoever comes in to question her next is going to have some explaining of their own to do first, and that is when the door opens and two people she hasn't seen yet enter. Straightening in her seat at the table, Emma narrows her eyes to study the man and woman coming into the room. Both are tall, lean, and dark haired; she can tell by the easy way they enter side-by-side and move as one to the table to face her that they are used to working together and that they must have made this type of entrance many times before. She wants to feel that she is in good hands now, but she finds herself angry with both of them instead. She didn't ask for any of this when she went to work yesterday. She never expected to see the first person she had been able to trust, who had truly taken care of her, murdered. She hadn't planned to be putting her son in worse situations all the time, or for them to be risking their lives helping law enforcement. That was what Graham had been trying to do, and look where it had gotten him. These people need her, not the other way around. She just has to answer their questions and then get out. Helping the cops is only going to put Henry at risk. Crossing her arms at her chest, Emma stares the newcomers down, lifting her chin defiantly, as if daring them to start the conversation.
The man arches his brow dubiously, and she tries to ignore the frisson of awareness at how handsome he is, until he unconcernedly goes right ahead and sits down across from her, his partner following, and acts not the least bit troubled by her cool reception. Emma is certainly not going to take note of those high cheekbones that a sculptor would covet in a model, or those piercing blue eyes that seem to stare right into her. Huffing out a frustrated breath, she tries instead to communicate that they are wasting her time and should just get on with it.
Somewhere behind the bluster, Emma wonders where all her anger and defensiveness is coming from, but it doesn't take long before she can feel tremors of fear trying to encroach on her thoughts again when she pushes the attitude back. She has always been tough, and knows that won't change now. This will not make her fall apart, not after everything she has already survived.
"Well, hello lass," the man says easily, looking as though he is all too pleased with himself and Emma should be too. "Ms. Swan, isn't it? I'm Agent Killian Jones, and this is my partner, Agent Ruby Lucas, FBI out of Boston."
Emma merely nods, telling herself not to thrill at the way his lilting, accented voice seems to caress every syllable he utters. He is obviously quite aware of his own charms already.
"We know that what you witnessed must have been upsetting, but we have to focus on our best move going forward. With your testimony, we may finally be able to put Spencer away, and deal a paralyzing blow to the Gold-Mills crime syndicate. You'll have to go into witness protection, of course, but that is standard –"
"Wait, hold on!" Emma interrupts indignantly, glaring at him now, and leaning forward over the table. "Testimony? Witness protection? What are you thinking?! I'm not doing anything to bring them after us! I have a son over there who I'm trying to protect, not bring down more trouble on him! I don't even think they know I saw anything!"
"Oh, they do," he assures her, voice stony and lowering to a deeper register. "I'm just trying to tell you what we're doing for you and the boy. We've handled this type of situation many times before and have it under control."
"Excuse me?!" Emma fires back, standing and pushing her chair away, suddenly flushed with both anger and panic, and needing some distance. "I am not the criminal here! You can't just hold us against our will and make us do what you want!
"Okay, stop, hold on a second," the pretty brunette – Agent Lucas, Emma reminds herself – breaks in, an arm on Agent Jones's to keep him from standing too. Her voice is calm and soothing, and when it draws Emma's eyes back, Agent Lucas gives her an encouraging smile. "Come sit back down, Ms. Swan. I'm sorry. I think we started off on the wrong foot."
"You can say that again," Emma retorts, but she finds herself trying to return the other woman's genuine effort and retaking her seat. "I was out of line too," she concedes after a charged pause, "but I'm running on no sleep, and all I can think is that I've put Henry in a situation where I can't protect him."
"You and your son won't be left alone," the female agent soothes, looking completely capable and confident. "As Agent Jones said, this is what we do. We won't let anything happen to you." She gives Emma another reassuring grin, one that Emma can't help but believe in and return.
"Thank you, Agent Lu- "
"Call me Ruby," the other woman interrupts, a wide grin making her eyes twinkle almost playfully. "We'll be getting to know each other quite well. There's no need to be so formal."
"Okay, Ruby," Emma says slowly. Now that she has settled and Agent Jones has backed off to pace behind Ruby, seemingly no longer even watching them, she tries to choose her words more carefully and focus on being less antagonistic. "I don't doubt either of your abilities, and I certainly don't want Graham's murderer to go unpunished, but I am not sure about testifying. It's so public and drawn out. Henry will hear things he shouldn't have to…he will be put at risk. How can you promise me they won't find him if I agree to this?"
Ruby, whom Emma is already beginning to genuinely like, reaches across to take her hand, squeezing it both in comfort and determination. She finds Emma's eyes and opens her mouth to speak again when Agent Jones swoops back in.
His startling blue eyes peg her, pinning her so she can't look away, and his voice is low and tight when he speaks, leaning over the table toward her in his intensity. "Look, Ms. Swan," he grinds out roughly, "there aren't any guarantees in life. I would venture to guess you know that better than most."
She sucks in a breath at his brash words, struck by the sudden unpleasant realization that he probably knows more of her past than she's comfortable with.
He plows forward without pause, disregarding her reaction. "However, this is bigger than you or me or Henry. These people have been hurting and killing innocents for years. They must be stopped, regardless of the risk or sacrifice it might involve. Besides that, you cannot hope to keep yourself safe from them, whether you help or not. The motel room you and your son were in last night was ransacked not an hour after you fled from it. Torn apart completely. You were extremely lucky to have taken your boy and left when you did. Luck like that will not hold out forever against such people."
Emma freezes, stricken by this last bit of information. They had been right behind her; they are after her and Henry. What would have happened to her baby if she had slept just a little bit longer? The air leaves her lungs as she remembers the kind-eyed, short-haired woman warning her in her dream. She can't tell these agents that though, doesn't want to seem crazy or pathetically emotional as well as shell-shocked and drained. Though it feels like a snap decision, Emma knows that they are right, and looking between the two agents in front of her, she realizes there is no other choice. Acquiescing to their knowledge, she finally dips her head in quick agreement.
"Alright then," Agent Lucas takes over the conversation again at that point, looking incredibly relieved that the seeming impasse has been resolved. "In that case, you'll be on a plane with us within the hour. We can't give you any more detail than that right now. Your lives are going to change. I won't lie about it, but we're going to do everything in our power to keep you and Henry safe."
Agent Jones meets her eyes for a mere second, giving her a quick bow of the head too before he glances away again. Emma tries to give them a smile, at least for Ruby's sake, though it fails miserably on her lips.
Then she is alone in the room once more. She wanders over to Henry's seat, moving his legs to her lap so she can sit as well. "Oh baby boy," she whispers sadly, sifting gentle fingers through his soft, chocolate brown hair. "Mama's sorry. I don't know what I've gotten us into…"
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True to the agents' words, an hour later, as the midday sun shines in blindingly through the windows, they're on a private jet high in the air and heading back East. Emma tries to listen to Henry's enthusiastic chatter as he exclaims over the seats, the view out the window, and the ginger ale and animal crackers Ruby – whom he has quickly made into his newest admirer – brings him. Emma adores her little boy and his happy disposition; yet, so much has been thrown at her so quickly that it's hard for her to focus. Only after they have ridden in near quiet for a few minutes, while Henry munches his treat, and Ruby and Killian converse toward the back of the cabin, does Emma's brain snap back into disturbing focus as Henry asks the question she has been dreading most.
"Where's Papa?" her little boy asks, looking up at her curiously with his wide, innocent gaze. "Didn't he wanna fly wif us? Will he meet us there?"
Though she has been wracking her brain for two days in hopes of finding the words to explain that Graham is gone – forever – in a way her little boy can understand, the question still takes her breath, pain squeezing her chest like a fist and her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. She clears her throat, reaching out to brush the hair off Henry's forehead and looking him square in the eyes. "No, Sweetie, he's not meeting us. He – he couldn't come this time."
"Why not?" Henry asks, latching on now that he has started wondering, curious nature not failing just because his mother has no good answer.
Emma flounders, unable to lie to her child, but unwilling to shatter his innocence with the truth. "He – he wanted to, Baby," she finally tries lamely, hand rising to cup Henry's face. "He just couldn't get away right now…okay?"
Her smart, inquisitive little boy doesn't quite look satisfied, but his sweet nature seems to sense her distress, and he leans against her, wrapping his small arm around her torso as far as he can reach. "Okay Mama," he nods against her side and lets his questioning go. Emma knows he will wonder again, but she allows herself to put that problem away for the moment. She can't help a shaky laugh when a few seconds later he pulls out his Snow White storybook and begs her to read it to him again.
Opening it and trying to use her most expressive voice to spin the story's usual magic, Emma finds that for some reason, she keeps getting choked up as the Evil Queen's huntsman spares the poor fair princess and sends her fleeing alone into the woods. Tears escape despite her best efforts, and her words catch in her throat.
"What's wrong, Mama?" Henry asks, looking up at her worriedly. "Snow White is okay, 'member? She finds the dwarf house soon."
Emma shakes her head, wiping the tears quickly. "Yeah, silly me!" she answers with false brightness, trying to pass it off as nothing. "Give me just a minute, okay?" She stands abruptly, making for the bathroom and hoping her son will think she's alright when she returns.
Forcing several deep breaths, Emma splashes cold water on her face, then stares at her own sad reflection in the mirror over the small sink, willing herself to pull it together. She wants to slam her hands on the porcelain basin, scream, kick through the door, shatter the mirror, but she can't do any of that. She is trapped with strangers, going somewhere completely not of her choosing, and has to pretend everything is fine. In the last 24 hours, her whole life has somehow been taken from her and is no longer under her control. It isn't fair, but all she can do is force herself not to rail at the entire world in anger, take a deep breath, and put on a calm, reassuring face for her little boy.
When she finally steps back out to rejoin the others, she is surprised to see that the seating arrangements have shifted. Ruby now has Henry strapped in at the back with her, and they have moved on to another picture book. She is reading animatedly in varied voices for each character, and Henry is chortling enthusiastically, eating up her performance.
Emma's eyes slide warily back up to her seat to find Agent Killian Jones in the one next to it. He looks up as she draws near, an honest expression of remorse on his face. "May I speak with you a moment, Lass?" he questions sincerely, honeyed voice much kinder and more sympathetic than it had seemed to her before.
She shrugs, still avoiding those stunning eyes as she sinks back into her place.
Jones is not finished with her though. "I wanted to apologize for my earlier behavior, Ms. Swan…Emma. I was insensitive and pushed too hard. I do not want there to be hard feelings between us, not when we may be spending a lot of time together for the foreseeable future. Hear me out?"
Emma glances up into his penetrating blue gaze…and she can do nothing else. She finds herself agreeing to his request.