Okay, so this is kinda a long chapter, but it is my absolute favorite (for right now, it will probably change). We finally see some backstory. Hope you all enjoy!

Also, the chapter title, Tabula Rasa, is latin for blank slate. Any one that gets the reference for the chapter title, comment it! It will make me so happy! If you don't know it, feel free to still leave a review! (In case you have not figured out, reviews make me happy)

Chapter Ten: Tabula Rasa

It was official. Killian was a grump. Emma had never seen him like this. This moody, this irritable, this fake. He was trying to pretend that something was not bothering him, but it was clear that something was wrong. He was quieter than normal, less aware of what was going on, smiling less and hanging around Emma less.

The strange behavior had only been going on for about a week. It came on suddenly, with no warning or signs. Nothing had happened at school, that she knew of, and things at home were fine, at least from her point of view. From what he said, his therapy sessions were fine and swimming was great, even though Will was a bit slow, but he was getting there.

The past four months in the Abernathy home had been wonderful for Emma. That was not something she said often. Her stay with Mrs. Abernathy and Killian was the longest she had been in one spot since she was with the Swans when she was a toddler. Emma found herself enjoying her time in this house. It was somewhere she would not mind staying for the next few years until she turned eighteen. Emma hoped that it would be her last home, that she finally found something close to a family, or as close as someone like her could ever get. She did not even mind if she did not get adopted. As long as she could stay here until she turned eighteen. Maybe then she could have a real shot at a future.

The fact that Mrs. Abernathy had had Killian for ten months gave Emma hope. Sure, Killian was much easier than Emma, but it proved that she was not one of those foster parents that only kept the kid around for a few weeks.

Killian had been a highlight of the past four months, despite his newfound grouchiness. She would never admit any of that too him though. There was no need to add even more to his ego. He was much different than the other foster siblings she had encountered. He was caring, pushed her to trust, to trust him, and tried to make her believe things would get better. The part that scared her the most was that she was starting to believe him. That was very unlike Emma. No one got through to her. No one had been able to convince her that there was a possibility that things could ever get better, that she could one day be happy. But he did it. He proved himself trustworthy to her, showed her that she was not going to let her down. Emma did not know what the next few years looked like for them. He would age out of the system regardless of if either of them stayed with Mrs. Abernathy in close to two years. He would go and make a life for himself and Emma would be stuck in the system for another two years. She did not expect him to wait around for her to age out, to stay and make sure she was fine. She did not want him to do that. Emma wanted him to run away from this life as fast as he could.

Emma pushed her feet at the ground, making the old swing move back and forth. It had been a long day and all she needed was to sit alone and forget about it all. It was late and the sun was starting to set. Mrs. Abernathy had retired early for the night. Emma chuckled. The woman's definition of early was seven or eight, but she was older and taking care of two teenagers probably took most of her energy.

The quietness was comforting and the nothingness was better than anything else. This little spot, the old porch swing, had become somewhat of a safe haven for her. When things were too much or she just needed to think, she would come out here. She and Killian often spent nights out here, talking, laughing and exchanging stories. For two kids with such harsh upbringings, it was a miracle they laughed at all, but when she was around him she could barely keep the smile off of her face.

The slam of the back door pulled her out of her thoughts. She did not need to look back to see who it was. Of course it was the only person who would know she was here. Of course it would be him. She kept swinging, keeping her eyes set on the sky instead of him.

"You alright, Swan?" His voice broke the silence.

"Fine."

He hummed a response. There was a large elephant in the room, but neither said anything. Emma was frustrated that he had been so reserved for the past few weeks. He had never been like that, especially with her.

"You want something?" She asked curtly.

Killian still stood behind the swing, near the door she assumed. He waited a few moments, then spoke. "Something's bothering you, Swan, I can tell."

"And you care because?' She drew out the last word.

"Swan, I've always cared." He stepped forward, standing next to the swing but never sitting down. "What would make you think otherwise?"

"Seriously?" Emma scoffed, keeping her eyes straight forward. "You've been in your own little world for the past week!"

Killian sighed. "Aye, I'll admit I have not been the best company for the past few days, but that does not mean I care for you any less."

"Do you remember our first conversation when I first got here?"

"Aye." She somberly stated.

"You said that I should learn how to trust because I would be here for a while and it would help me out in the long run. But it seems that the longer I have been here I have been getting better at trusting and you are the one who has been getting worse. And now you are completely blocking me out."

"Swan, it's not that I do not trust you-"

"Then what?" She stood and turned around to face him. "What is it then? Why are you moping around and avoiding me."

"It's nothing." He lied.

"If it's nothing, why won't you tell me?"

"Because it's not important." He pushed.

"That's not how this works Killian. You can't expect me to tell you everything and trust you if you won't do the same."

"Like you have told me everything." Killian got defensive, but still did not fully raise his voice.

"I told you, my parents abandoned me on the-"

"I know that part." He cut her off, frustrated. "But what else?Why don't you seem to want to trust anyone?" Months of her not trusting him, having trouble letting him in finally took their toll on him.

"Like you would want to get close to anyone if people kept getting rid of you?" She all but yelled. "And when the only people that stay are scum!"

"Oh, so I am scum?" He pretended to be insulted.

"That's not what I meant." She said, lowering her tone, speaking calmly. "You can't leave. You have no choice...but you're not scum."

"You seriously think I would leave even if I could?" His genuineness was tinted with the still present frustration and anger.

"Everyone leaves." Emma stated as if it were a proven fact. WIth her life, it might as well be.

"Yes! People leave." He raised his hand, then hushed his tone and stepped closer to her. "But some people stay."

"Because they don't see that there is something wrong with me. Give them time."

"Maybe it is because they do not think there is something wrong with you to begin with."

Emma stood in silence for a moment, then sat again on the porch swing. She rested her head in her hands for a few seconds, then looked up at him. "I was eleven when I went to live with Mr. Giovanni." Emma did not know what she was doing. Why was she telling him this? Why, after everything he was saying and how he was treating her, why would she tell him this? Something she never told people.

Maybe because, deep down, she still remembered that they were alike.

"He had two other foster kids. A fifteen year old, Mikey and a six year old Jeremy." Emma smiled, remembering the innocent little boy that had no clue how bad life could be. "He saw us as a meal ticket." She continued. "He pocketed the money that he received for us. A few weeks in, Mikey found out where he kept the money. He convinced me it would be a good idea to take some-" Emma looked at the ground. "Only twenty or thirty a week. Not enough that he would notice. Just enough that we could go get some cheap food for the three of us and maybe we wouldn't go to bed hungry all the time. I rationalized that it was for Jeremy. I had to do it for him."

"Is that why you did it?" Killian asked her in between her words.

"Partly. I think I was just so numb at that point. I knew the money was not for him. It's not stealing if it is yours to begin with." Emma remembered the amount of times Mikey said that same thing to an eleven year old her, convincing her that they had to keep taking more money every month. "Eventually, Mickey thought I should repay him for everything he had done for me. He told me I owed him."

Killian looked her square in the face, coming closer to her. "Emma, please tell me you didn't."

Emma shook her head. "I was twelve when he suggested it for the first time. I knew more about that type of thing then I should of, but you know, foster system. Long story short though, I refused. He tried-" Her words got caught in her throat, where she was also suppressing any emotion that could seep through. "He tried to make me, forcibly. I kicked and screamed until Jeremy came in. He told me he wouldn't do it with a six year old in the room. It would kill the mood."

After taking a large breath, she continued. "The next day Mikey told Mr. Giovanni that I had been taking the money. Naturally, he sent me back." Killian started to respond, probably telling her how sorry she was, how that guy was a jerk, but she spoke over him. "There is more. I went to a group home for a awhile before my next home was with the Moore's. It took me a week to see that something was wrong there. Abusive father. The mother was never home. It took three weeks before I was able to get out. I guess it took three weeks for someone to notice all the bruises."

Killian moved to sit on the swing, but on the opposite side, not too close to her. Neither one of them looked at the other, instead staring straight forward. "I went to a girls group home after that. Girls are nasty though. I went to a few more homes, but they all sent me back because I was to much work. Then I ended up here."

Killian did not say anything, did not move, did not look at her. It was not completely dark yet, but some stars were out, decorating the sky. There was an orange pink hue to the sky, which somehow calmed her. It was not too cold, but she had also felt worse, so her perception was skewed.

"I'm sorry." He finally whispered."Truly. You did not deserve any of that."

"No one does." She spoke much louder than him. "Yet it happens. But there is a reason I have trouble trusting you. It's all that crap. And don't tell me that it is in the past and to just get over it becau-"

"Wounds made when we are young tend to linger." He looked at her. "Trust me I know."

"What happened, Killian?"

He raised his eyebrow, not in his normally cocky way, but in a nervous and unsure way. "Should I tell you?" He said, but I seemed like it was meant for only him.

"No one else understands what it is like."

"No one else I probably going to understand me as well as you do." He smiled at her, despite the seriousness of the conversation.

Emma smiled, urging him with her eyes to begin. He took a breath, and took a leap of faith, and started telling his story.