AN:: Again, and always, I'm sorry for the wait.
HUGE TRIGGAR WARNING:: This chapter deals with Emma's past and some of the things she told Mary Margret for in the last chapter, and you should be warned on that front. Nothing graphic, don't worry. But it is mentioned in more depth.
Sammichbatch is a genius and a miracle worker. I'm forever in awe of her. I swear to god she beta'd for me in like twenty minutes. It's unreal.
Here we are, at the part of the story where we get some damn answers - of course not all of them, but I promise we're about to be over the hill as far as all the pain goes. Resolution isn't super far off anymore. I hope I haven't made it too hard for you guys to hold on.
Love you guys. General kind of love... I don't know you, but I'm sure you're lovely.
Reviews are great, you're better, please enjoy!
The door shut in the same moment that Emma knew she couldn't hold up her front any longer. Her composure was gone. If she had thought about it, she knew she didn't mean to rip her hand away from Regina's, though she must have. Her fingers grasped at her neck instead, and her other hand gripped a baluster fiercely. Emma bent at the waist and cried, like she had at the hospital, but without the fear that someone in the next room would hear. She cried for the little girl that was ripped away from her before her time – the childhood she'd lost because of the woman she'd only just met, in a sense.
Somewhere, in the real world – far away from where her mind had taken her, she heard Emmet yell for her.
So Emma looked up, just in time to see him collide into her leg and wrap both of his little arms as far around her thighs as he could.
He told her not to cry – that it would be okay – it was just a little owie…. Reciting all of the things that she and Regina would tell him when he was hurt, and obviously the only way he could rationalize what was happening.
It didn't take another moment of thought for her to lift him into her arms and squeeze him tightly.
"Mom…" Henry said, so quietly Emma didn't open her eyes right away.
Though when she finally looked at him – at them – Regina and Henry worrying for her from a few steps below her, all she could do was shake her head and lower herself down to sit by the coat closet, still hugging Emmet tightly. "I'm so sorry guys."
Henry was the first to move, leaning his crutches against the wall so he could lower himself down much more carefully to sit next to her. He leaned his head on her shoulder, and reached out a hand to pat Emmet's back.
"I shouldn't have hit her…" Emma said between sobs.
Emmet sighed in her hair. "….not nice." He whispered.
"It wasn't nice, bug, you're r-right." Her head fell against Henry's head as she desperately tried to suck in deep breaths, but crying and continuing to cry made it impossible. There was still that overwhelming feeling of betrayal piercing through her, white hot, filling up her lungs, squeezing her throat closed.
It wasn't much longer before Regina slipped off her heels and walked over. Emma noticed the phone in her hand, and how she set it on the entry way table before her arms came around her, holding all three of them together from Emma's free side. She kissed Emma's hair and left her lips there.
Emma gripped Regina's bicep in return, and that's how they stayed.
Emma let herself cry.
-x-
It was still light grey outside when Cora came for the kids.
Both of them went without much of a fight, though Regina had to tell them it was only for a little while. Emma just needed a little space. And Cora, for once in her natural life, didn't ask any stupid questions. Regina could have sworn she saw her mother give the blonde a sad, knowing look before disappearing with their kids.
Then Emma, with her puffy, swollen eyes, stood up with all of the determination that was who she was, put her hands on her hips and looked around like she forgot something.
The Mayor walked over to her and brushed her hair behind her ears. "Tell me what you need."
Emma laughed. Then blinked rapidly, then shrugged. "Can you braid my hair?"
"No, I'm sorry. I don't know how."
"You don't know how to braid hair?" Emma asked, wiping her face on her sleeve again.
Regina shook her head. "I'm an only child. And my mother always did it for me when I was young."
"Can I teach you?"
"Of course."
So they went up to the bedroom, and Emma sat between Regina's legs, told her how to grab the three pieces and twist them around each other. When she was done, she just undid it, carded her fingers through the blonde and did it all over again.
The sun peeked from behind the clouds and warmed their shoulders from outside the window, one last hurrah before it started for the horizon. Emma rolled up one of the legs on Regina's slacks and ran her thumb over the smooth, tanned calf.
"I was eight when I learned how to do a normal braid."
"Aren't you talented." Regina drawled.
"I was in this house, and the mom was named Melissa. I didn't know I had a crush on her, but I probably did. Her daughters were both too quiet to talk to me, and I was loud and rambunctious. The only time I would sit still was when she would braid my hair. She taught me how to braid her hair. Always happy. She told me that I was a quick learner, and that I could probably do whatever I wanted when I grew up."
"What happened?" Regina asked. "Why didn't they keep you?"
"Because I told my teacher that her husband was molesting me."
Regina couldn't help but stop for a moment. The confrontation outside played in her mind again, and her gut turned, but she carried on with the braid anyway, fighting the heartbreak starting to clog her throat.
"Everything I said to Blanchard was true. It wasn't just something to hurt her… even though I really hope it did." Her voice began growing hoarse. "It's helped me a lot to blame this faceless person who threw me out like trash. I could imagine her any way I wanted. I made her evil in my head. Someone who didn't care about anyone but themselves, on drugs maybe… just so it wasn't my fault." Her shoulders inched up as she kept talking. "But she's kind… to everyone. She's a teacher, she teaches kids every day and gives her time to the hospital and cooks things for the bake sale… and she didn't want me. She didn't fight to keep me, someone who lives for other people.."
"Emma," Regina wrapped her arms around the blonde's shoulders and pulled her back, so she could just lean back into her, and kissed her head.
"I didn't want you to ever know any of that, Regina." She cried. "I didn't want you to look at me like some broken thing, or be afraid to touch me. I couldn't-"
"Honey, you're not broken."
Emma sniffled and held on to Regina's arms, dug her chin under them like it would hide her.
"Broken people aren't any good to the rest of the world. And you've already proven that so wrong." Regina shook her head. "You gave me someone to depend on, and you gave my kids another wonderful, loving parent to look up to, and learn from. You gave the whole town a strong, responsible authority figure." Her thumb caught a few tears on their way down Emma's face. "Everything that happened to you was completely preventable, and you should have had people there to protect you. You deserve so much more than what the world has made you go through. But, Emma, I am so grateful for the person that walked into my life.. on her twenty-eighth birthday, lost and nervous. All of the lessons she learned and brought to my family- our… our family.. I hope you know that the person you've become is perfect. You're not broken. I won't ever look at you that way. And whatever you need me to do to try and make this just another unfair part of your past, I will do that. We can hire-"
Emma sat up and hugged her, both arms tight around Regina's neck and she cried again. She just nodded and cried.
"I can get you a DNA test if that's what you want?"
As soon as she pulled back Emma kissed her. "I need to go, okay?"
She received a look that said she was worried, but Regina nodded in spite of it. "Okay."
"I'll be back by the time you wake up, I promise. Go get the kids, or… I love you." She only took enough time to pull on her shoes and get a scarf. And she was gone.
Emma hoofed it down the pavement on Main at a frightening pace. No one stopped or tried to say hello – she looked like she was on a mission. She was on a mission.
Ruby frowned at her when the little bell rang over her friend's head.
"Granny in the back?" The Sheriff asked.
"Yeah, why?"
Emma just shook her head and dragged a chair behind her into the kitchen.
There the old woman was, completely unphased by the young woman looking at her like she'd seen a ghost. Or worse.
"Hi-ya kiddo. You doin' okay?" Granny kept stirring whatever was steaming on the stove.
Emma sighed heavily and sat backward on the little chair. "I need you to tell me about Mary Margret Blanchard."
She looked over the frames of her glasses. "Is this my little duck or the Sheriff asking?"
"It's whoever is going to get the most information out of you. I just… I need to verify some information." Emma looked at her boots.
"Okay. Well, she's lived and worked here her whole life. She took my home-ec. class at the high school for the short time I taught it… Her order is the Swiss omelette with mushrooms and black coffee. What do you want to know?"
"I want to know about the rumors when she was in high school." Emma flattened her tone – more serious than she'd ever been with the old woman.
"Ah, that." Granny turned down the temperature on the stove and leaned against the sink, just a bit closer to Emma. "She got pregnant when she was… about halfway through her sophomore year, I think. Poor thing. Her father was the Mayor back then, his only child, and with her mamma gone he didn't have a lot of perspective when it came to those kinds of things."
"Gone?" Emma clarified.
"Eva died a few years before Mary Margret was even in high school. The whole town loved her." She lifted up her glasses to itch underneath of them. "Doesn't surprise me she didn't tell anyone about the baby. I don't think her father even knew for a good while because she started showing before he sent her away. He told everyone she went to some special academy for her art. But her art was never very good, so… She came back with a few more pounds on her than she'd left with, and quite a few more dark circles under those eyes. A completely different young lady than who she left as."
Emma just nodded. "So she was definitely pregnant."
"Well, she was gone for right around seven months. And her and a boy from town had been getting… close before she'd-"
"What boy?"
Grannie hesitated, though. Not for long, but long enough so Emma knew she was pushing her limits. "David Nolan. He was a bit older than she was. Talk of the town there for a minute. Somehow everyone forgets about the boy once the girl has to deal with the consequences, though."
Emma's gut lurched up and squished her lungs. "You're positive it was him?"
"Oh, yeah. She was not a very mischievous girl. He was from a good family, so Leopold was thrilled with their little romance. Obviously he didn't know how close-"
"Thanks, grannie." Emma was up and gone again before Grannie could even tell her to put the chair back where she found it. Her eyes started to sting again.
All of the times he was over at their house, rough-housing with Sean at barbeques and helping fix the gutters last winter, and babysitting Beth on date nights with his wife. She wanted to scream, but instead she just picked up per pace, jogging down his street and watching the cars drive by slowly past her. Her heart was in her ears as she climbed the steps.
Katherine had seen her through the window and rushed over toward the door. Beth was on her hip and Emma started crying all over again.
"What's wrong? What's happening?" Katherine asked. Her mouth opened again, but Emma shook her head.
"I need to talk to David."
"Why?"
Emma was panting, bent over at the waist and she shook her head. "I can't… I can't be the one to tell you. I just-"
Katherine's face changed. "What do you mean?"
"No! It's not… we haven't.. done anything. It's not like that."
"Then what is it like? You're on my front porch, crying, Emma, I-"
Emma rubbed her eyes hard. "I just, Katherine, I need to ask him some questions. It's important."
They looked at each other for a minute, and Katherine stepped aside, Beth grabbed a fistful of her hair, and Emma stepped around them like one of them would strike and sink their fangs into her – steal the family she could have had. But it wasn't their fault. She knew that. She just had to keep telling herself.
Katherine called for David up the stairs, and stared at Emma skeptically. "Can I get you anything?"
Emma gulped. "Water… yeah. Thank you."
She nodded, and went back into the kitchen.
Those few moments when she heard footsteps upstairs and heard Katherine in the kitchen while she stood idly in the entry way made her skin itchy and her head pound. Her head poked in the kitchen. "Can you tell him I'm going to wait in the back?"
All Katherine did was nod, and Emma bolted, even though she heard the stairs creak under David's weight.
It just felt wrong. The house was too warm – too inviting. She wasn't there to be a guest, she was there to ruin the day of a man who might be her father. Her leg shook as soon as she sat down on their cute little white wicker outdoor furniture.
He came out not a moment later, the dad look so clearly embedded in him now and Emma grimaced.
"Hi, Em." He greeted, but his eyes said he was worried for her.
She only nodded back, then blinked back more tears. "I heard some things today." Her eyes ran all over the back yard – the one they had just visited on New Years. Back when everything was fine and all of this was normal. "I need to talk to you about them. Because I respect you, David, I do. I think you're a good dad, and you treat Kat really well. But I need you to answer me honestly, okay?"
David nodded. "Yeah. Whatever you need."
She hesitated. Her fingers clasped over her mouth as she frowned into them. "Did.. did you know Mary Margret was pregnant?"
The shock reverberated around his features, made him sit up straighter. His mouth opened at the question, or at her. Maybe at the realization. She couldn't tell. She still hid her wavering voice behind her hands.
"It's a simple question."
He shook his head. "Not right away."
"But you knew." Emma almost growled.
"Emma, there were rumors, but nothing concrete. I came home on summer break and she was gone. Her father said she was just at an academy, but I didn't know where to find her. I didn't know what to think, I was just a kid. I was stupid."
"What did she tell you?"
"Nothing," He said quickly. Adamantly. "I tried to talk to her when I came back that winter, from college, but she didn't want to talk to me. She didn't want to talk to anyone. And I let her be. After that I didn't talk to her for years. We were never home at the same time."
Emma put her head in her hands again and fought with herself not to sob openly in front of him.
He reached out and touched her shoulder. "Emma."
"She came over to the house this morning and.. she just went on and on until I believed her."
His eyes got wider.
There were a few beats where they just looked at each other. All of the pieces out in front of them, and the full picture coming slowly into view before she said it.
"I think I'm yours, David," She shook her head. "And I don't know whether to hate you or not."
The years started to show themselves to her – under his eyes and around his mouth as he watched the tears come back full force. How unsure he was. David moved as close as he could get, kneeling in front of her, hands resting in fists on her knees. "Emma, a couple years ago, I guess it wasn't too long after you came to town, Mary Margret came over here, and she finally told me in no uncertain terms she had a little girl, way back when. And I couldn't face her. I felt like I failed her, and maybe I did, but I don't know how I would do things differently, or if I would want to."
His eyes were getting red, and it wasn't helping Emma at all. She wanted to be angry. Anger was always easier for her.
"We can find out if this…" He let his hand hover between them. "…all of this is true, if you want to." David looked at her so deeply, like he was trying to find some of himself in her. "But if you're really my daughter, Emma, I'm so proud of you. Who you are a-a," He choked and had to take a deep breath before looking at her again.
Emma had devolved into covering her mouth and holding herself with her free arm.
He gave her an awful, watery smile. "Can I hug you?"
Her arms were already reaching for him before she could start nodding, and the hug he gave her was like nothing else she could describe. That desperation for belonging she had always thought she was alone in. Questions she was sure she would never have an answer to and his hope, and maybe guilt all rolled into what could be.
-x-
It was just past ten when Emma slipped into the house quietly, tired, more than a little emotionally drained. She pulled off her boots and made her way into the kitchen, going straight for the wine glasses when Henry waved at her from the living room.
"Hey, kid." Emma tried to smile, but her face could only muster up a straight line.
He gave her the same kind of look, then struggled to scoot himself up the couch. "Mom's in the bathroom."
"Did you guys wait up for me?"
"Not really." He looked down, not exactly at his leg, but not exactly not at it either. "She wanted to ask me what I thought about… today. And stuff."
She put her hand over his. "Henry, I'm sorry you saw that. That's not something a kid-"
"Emma, I saw my best friend die, okay?" Henry frowned. "I've seen more than anyone should see."
"I know." She closed her eyes and rubbed at her bare face, her face felt brittle with all of the tears that fell and dried on her face that day.
It took a second, but he slumped into his shoulders. "I'm sorry."
Emma nodded quietly.
Luckily a door opened and closed down the hallway, and Regina came back in the room a few seconds later. She smiled at the both of them and settled herself on the ground, leaning on the couch at Henry's side.
"Everything go alright?" Regina asked.
Emma shrugged. "Later."
"Okay."
Henry looked at them and kept quiet a while, letting Emma and Regina link their fingers and look at each other, then back at him.
"So, Ms. Blanchard is your mom?" He asked.
Emma, tight lipped again, nodded. "It seems like it."
He looked back at his mother, and Regina leaned her head on his arm.
"And all of that stuff you said to her… that was true?"
Emma nodded, but didn't say anything else. She wouldn't know where to start. It's not a conversation she ever intended on having, much less with a son she never intended on meeting – and one who was her whole world now.
"Did any of those guys… ever.. did anyone ever get in trouble for what they did?" He asked, seeming to avoid looking at her at all costs.
"I don't know."
Henry got quieter. "Didn't you ever tell anyone?"
"I tried a couple times. But a kid like me didn't have many people on her side. So after a while I just stopped." Emma explained. Her tone was bitter, like the years she was ignored sat on her tongue too heavily.
Henry looked angry, and perplexed at the very same time. "But how do people do that? How can they just get away with-"
"It's.." Emma closed her eyes. She calmed herself before she had the chance to get worked up – to jump to anger because she was good at it. Because it had protected her, and now she was the one who needed to do the protecting.
The Sheriff gulped down all of the fatigue, the hate she felt when she let herself think about all of this, the idea that she was still alone. She crossed her legs and sat forward a bit, just looking into her son's face. She loved him. That was easy, and it was good. She could focus on that.
"Henry, I can't tell you all of this. It's not time for you to take care of me yet, it's my job to take care of you. I'm going to love you and your brother, and it's my job to make sure that your lives are as different from mine as possible – at least when I was a kid." Her shoulders rose and fell. "Yeah, there's a lot of things that… people did to me. You should know that kind of thing happens in the world, and it's even okay if you know that it happened to me, as long as I make sure you know it's wrong," Her eyes started bubbling again, and she touched his foot. "and that… it shouldn't ever happen. But it does. And I've had to live with it. And I'm good now." She nodded, not having to convince herself at all. "It's been a really long time, and my life now is awesome. I love being with you guys, I love my family. I love you. And that's all that matters now."
"But how do you get over that?" His face was red, but she could see in his face he wouldn't let himself cry. "How does that happen and you're just okay?"
"Henry, I never got over it." She shook her head and opened her mouth to try and explain, but she saw it.
He was looking down, the ugliest expression on his face right down where the leg of his sweat pants was folded over.
"Look at me." Emma's voice was hoarse, but he did.
Henry's chin started to buckle, but he wouldn't budge yet.
"You never get over it."
He shook his head. "I'm not talking about me! It's not the same – I just lost my leg, I'm not…" He gritted his teeth, balled his fists. "I just feel like shit, all the time. I feel like I want to hit things and scream, and… you're just okay. You had it way worse than me and you're not-"
"It doesn't matter. Loss is loss; it hurts. We've both had things taken from us – our peace of mind, our normal. It can be ripped away and you're never going to be the same." She nodded. She understood now.
"Then how are you okay?!"
Regina put her hand on his and he started to crack.
"I'm not sometimes." Emma didn't let go. She grabbed his ankle, maybe just so he would know she was there – really there. "I'll never get over it, Henry. It's not some mountain I can climb and then once I'm at the bottom it's just gone – it doesn't work like that. When your whole world comes crashing down around you, all you can do is rebuild, and it's slow as shit. You carry all the hurt and it grows with you. You keep moving… and along the way, you find things that don't hurt. You hold on to every one of those you can find. You find people who love you, things that make you smile, things to laugh at, songs to sing along to. Then one day, all of the good things are louder than the hurt."
Emma reached over and caught his tears with her sleeve.
Regina looked up at him with sad eyes, but let Emma do the talking.
"You guys.. you, and your mom, and your brother – all of you drown out any of the horrible shit in my life. Even more so, I'm okay with it if it got me here. I don't want my life any other way, and one day you'll look back, kid," She picked up his face in her hands. "You're always going to miss Nick. You're going to wish he's there for a lot of things, but you have to start collecting the good things again. You'd piss him off if you didn't make your life the best it could be for both of you."
Henry cried.
He shook his face from Emma's grasp and let his eyes smack down into his palms, but both of his mothers were there right next to him.
Regina looked up at Emma and just smiled a thankful sort of smile, tears in both of their eyes, soggy and tired.
They squished up on the couch and hugged their boy, hoping he could collect his moment – remember it – so he could turn it up loud whenever he needed to.
