Participated in the following meme on tumblr:

"send me "Librarian!" and a page number and I'll grab the closest book, flip to that page number, and write a ficlet based on a random line of text from said page."

Prompt: Librarian! + 64 - narniangriff23

"That was when I realized the weird truth: my mother was more freaked out than I was." Afterworlds, Scott Westerfeld

A/N: So, I kinda sorta cheated. Originally, when I picked out the prompt, I got
 "She wears no jewelry except for a single gold chain around her neck, from which
dangles a pair of interlocked silver rings, which jingle softly when she walks."
- The Bride Wore Size 12, Meg Cabot
But it was weeks. And I had nothing. I tried switching what ship I was writing from Gremma to Scallison from Teen Wolf. Still had nothing. Switched back to Gremma. Still nothing. So, theorizing that Meg Cabot is my idol and I was terrified of using her words as a prompt, I changed books. Season 2 AU, where while Emma and Snow are in the EF, they encounter Graham, alive there since his death in Storybrooke. After the beanstalk, before the zombies. (With the Reawakened version of that last scene in the office as what happened because why would I not want to hurt myself more?)

Emma knows the man in front of her is impossible. He had died in her arms, she had held him as he took his last breath. I love you. Those had been his last words and whatever is going on here… It isn't right. It can't be.

But it also can't be a trick of Cora's – can it? She hasn't even spoken of him since the election, has made sure to bury those feelings deep. The witch couldn't possibly know to look like him. Not unless she could read minds – and Emma's not ruling that out yet but it does seem improbable that Cora would try to gain their trust as someone they know is gone.

She turns away from those dark blues after a few moments, but she can still feel him looking at her. Like… Like he did that last night. The awe, the emotion, it's all there. No one else has ever looked at her like that. But she can't allow herself to believe it's really him – getting home to Henry is so much more important than this.

She quickly glances around at the rest of her party. Aurora's eyes are clearly darting between herself and Graham, and she wonders how much the princess has caught onto. She might not be as tough as the rest of them, but she's smart, determined, and Emma knows better than to underestimate that. Mulan is just as on guard as ever, hardly a surprise.

Then there's Mary Margaret. Her best-friend-turned-mother is… Tense. Knuckles white around her bow and an arrow clutched in her other hand. It's like she's already anticipating this going bad even more than Emma herself is.

"Emma." Her eyes shut tightly when he says her name. It sounds… Just as it always did. Even though there was a part of her that had been struggling to remember that, she knows.

"You're dead," she whispers, refusing to look at him. It will only weaken her resolve, her surety that this is some sort of magic trick.

"I died," he agrees – she thinks that she hears sadness in his voice and oh, she wants to comfort him. But she can't. She knows that she can't. "Then I woke up."

Her eyes snap open with those words, meeting his. She makes her way closer to him, eyes locked on his. There's something there, regret and sorrow even alongside that same awe.

Cautiously, she raises her hand, resting it on his heart. The beat is strong and steady and she can't shake the sheer relief that floods her as she feels it. She still doesn't quite believe that it's him, but she's getting closer.

"It's beating. It's real," he murmurs, so low that only she can hear. She bites her lip then shakes her head, stepping back again as she removes her hand. Only he knows those words but with the magic in this world who knows what kind of trick this could be? Certainly not her. And the dead don't wake up. She's seen movies – she knows that's a rule, no matter what.

Emma makes her way over to Mary Margaret, and the others join them unbidden. It makes sense, they're a team. At least for now. She had wanted a moment alone with the one person she trusted, but really, they'd all have to decide what to do about this, so it wasn't as much of a nuisance as it might have been otherwise.

"He loves you," Aurora states, blunt, faster on the uptake than she would've liked even with the amount of credit she had given the sleeping beauty. "And you him."

"Emma, it can't be him," Mary Margaret says before she can respond to Aurora, to try and explain. "He died. In your arms. That means- It can't be him. It just can't."

"I know that. But- It doesn't feel like a trick." Because as much as she's certain it has to be a trick, that's the truth, it doesn't feel like one.

"What if it's not?" Mulan asks, slowly, and Emma feels her brow furrow as she tries to understand the warrior's suggestion. What if it's not?

"What else could it be?" Mary Margaret is already rolling her eyes and Emma doesn't know why but she suddenly understands that Graham's presence is agitating the brunette for a reason other than the fact that he had died. There's more to this.

"The curse," Mulan says, "Here, before it was broken – nothing changed. There were no deaths, no births, no moving forward. Just 28 years trapped in stasis. Wasn't your Storybrooke like that? And- Forgive me for assuming, but wouldn't his 'death' have been while the curse was in effect? Maybe- Maybe no one could die there, but since people knew he was dead, magic… Removed him? Brought him here instead of having him walking around again in that world?"

The logic makes a strange sort of sense. And Henry had always said that she was to bring back all the happy endings. Him not getting his would have been… More than unfair.

"So, what, we ask him a question only the real Graham would know the answer to?" Mary Margaret asks.

"That's exactly what we do," Emma nods. This is a good plan, and with Mulan's theory… She has more hope than she's had in a long time. "But first- What has got you so on edge?"

The other woman's grip loosens a bit at the question, her shoulders slumping some. "He's a good man. One who- Who has done so much good for this family. But there are things- Things your father and I should have done a long time ago, but didn't. That includes- Saving him. Seeing him here, it's like- One of our greatest failures staring back at me."

"You do realize who you're talking to, right?" Emma shrugs, taking her friend's- Her mother's hand to reassure her. "I was supposed to save him too. It was my job. That failure's on me."

She doesn't give Mary Margaret a chance to respond before walking back to Graham. There's another thing about that last day she hasn't told anyone, not even Henry. It would've cemented the boy's belief in the curse and Regina's evil, and while he was right… It wouldn't have been good for him to have even more reason to think he was living with a murderer.

"Right before- Your heart," she starts, looking him dead in the eye, "You were trying to tell me something. What?"

"That Henry was right. That the curse was real. That Regina is the Evil Queen. And that I remembered when we kissed."

The answer is right – Emma can feel her smile finding her face, the same smile she'd worn before that night had taken the awful turn it had.

"Graham," she breathes, easily resting in his arms, head pressed against his chest, his heartbeat thumping against her cheek. "It's you. I thought- I thought I'd never see you again."

He pulls her in tightly, holding her in those arms that she fits in just right. "I feared the same." The admission makes her wonder, despite those last three words. She was so used to no one caring, she couldn't understand how he… He did. Enough to fear that they'd never see each other again.

The answer to why that might be scares her – she can't think about it, not now, it's not the time. So, she pulls away from his embrace, entwining her fingers with his and giving a soft tug on his hand. "Come on. We need to keep moving if we're going to find our way home."