A/N 1: as a writing exercise, I developed a system where I asked for a pairing and random numbers from four different variables (bookcase, book in bookcase, page, line), and then set a timer to 15 minutes and wrote. This is the result of the third set of numbers.

Prompter: lessawildmoon on tumblr

Ship: Gremma

Bookcase: 2

Book: 35

Page: 110

Line: 22

"'It wasn't exactly stealing.'" – Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder, Joanne Fluke

A/N: AU where Graham is still alive; takes place in Neverland.

It's about the hundredth time they've had the argument. More teasing than anything now, as they lay curled together in Neverland, scared for Henry and anxious to get him back. It's probably not the time, but… Acting like this, like normal, he knows it helps Emma to drown out the crying that comes at night. He hears it too, much more faintly than she does – the wolves had been his family, more than she'd even had one.

"Maybe Archie did give you those files, Emma, but it still wasn't legal for you to take them." He does believe her. Has believed her for a long time now. He pretends only because he has to. Because he doesn't know how they're going to get Henry back and doesn't know what else to do to help her when they're stuck like this at night, unable to advance.

"I know," she sighs, head resting on his shoulder as he gently rubs her back. "I wasn't exactly expecting it to be a trap, though."

"Doesn't matter now. We know the truth."

"Yeah. Kid was right about everything," a slight smile crosses her face for a moment, "Even us."

Her hand moves to rest over his heart. It's back in his chest now, by a miracle he doesn't even begin to understand. He knows that Regina had crushed it. But he'd woken up in the hospital only days later with Emma hovering over him after a kiss and he'd been told that had been Henry's idea.

He doesn't question why he'd fallen into a coma instead of dying when his heart was crushed; he's learned better than to question how magic works in Storybrooke, considering that the most anyone knows is that it's different there than the Enchanted Forest. He's too averse to magic to care about the particulars anyway.

His lips brush her forehead gently. "Sleep, Em. We won't be any use to him exhausted."