A/N: reviews have tapered off somewhat but I suspect they'll be back after the ending you're about to read …
It surprised Emma how quickly she fell into her new routine. The start of her week saw her taking Henry to playgroup before enjoying a leisurely morning and then making her way up to Queens after lunch for work. In the evenings, she ate a late dinner either with or without Regina, depending on how hungry the brunette got as she waited. On Thursdays and Fridays however, Emma took care of Henry in the afternoon. It had been Regina's suggestion, and although the boy had settled back in with his child minder perfectly well, it seemed like a logical thing to do. After her weekly meeting with Tina Bell Emma would collect Henry from playgroup and then the two of them would wile away the hours until Regina returned home. On Friday afternoon, they headed for Granny's and Regina met them there. The weekends, were just the three of them. And occasionally Ruby, Kathryn, and Dot.
Emma therefore felt somewhat reluctant to leave the penthouse on a Saturday morning in late March and kissed Regina goodbye more than once. Henry waved her off too, promising not to eat all of the cookies he and Regina were going to bake before she returned.
"Just think of all the fun we're going to have tonight," Regina reasoned. "That's something to look forward to, right?"
"You've been going on for weeks about how much you don't want to go to this charity ball," Emma reminded her. "How are you now using it as an incentive?"
Regina cocked her head and regarded the blonde. "You know you don't have to go today, Emma. Not if you don't want to."
Emma sighed and shrugged on her coat. "I don't want to but I do have to," she said. "August is my friend and he's requested to see me. I told him I'd come last week and I didn't. I can't put this off any longer."
Regina nodded her understanding and gave Emma a final kiss goodbye. Once the door to the penthouse closed behind her, Emma took a deep breath. She could do this.
The rehabilitation clinic Regina had found online was an hour's train journey north of New York. Emma stared out of the window as the carriage rattled along, countryside and towns whizzing past in a blur of colours. She wasn't really looking though. Her brain was far too preoccupied. If you had asked Emma why she was reluctant to visit August, she probably couldn't put her finger on one specific reason. It was more a combination of factors through which her mind was flitting as she waited to arrive.
Emma Swan didn't trust easily but she had trusted August Booth. That, as it turned out, was a mistake. He had abandoned Emma after just a few short months. Ok, he had left because he had a job and had been offered a chance at a better life. But putting aside the fact that he fucked up said chance mere weeks later, Emma didn't think it was right of him to just up and leave the way he did. She supposed it was her own fault for becoming dependent on someone again. August had been the one person she felt safe around on the streets. Those long, dark, sleepless nights had all but disappeared when the two of them were together. She trusted him to keep her safe. And then … she was alone again.
And then there was the alcoholism. Emma knew, or suspected, that several of her foster fathers were alcoholics. She had seen what drink did to a man and she hated it. The anger, the violent mood swings, the unpredictability. These qualities poured out as the booze was poured in. She knew August turned to the bottle when his PTDS got unbearable, but she hadn't thought it was this bad. How had she failed to see it? How had she let him fall so far? That was the thing about Emma Swan. As Regina said, she tended to blame herself for things which were outside of her control.
The ticket inspector interrupted Emma's thoughts and she handed over her stub with a small smile. He checked it and handed it back, his eyes roaming unabashedly over her. She turned away but supposed it made a nice change to be stared at for looking good rather than because she was panhandling. Her thoughts about August resumed and drifted to the two people she had left behind in the city.
Regina and Henry. They could not and should not be dragged into this messy friendship. If Emma was going to be there for August, and if Regina insisted on helping financially, then she could just about deal with that. But there was no way that her unreliable, unpredictable, well-meaning but calamitous friend could be a part of their lives. He didn't deserve to be. Come to that, neither did Emma.
Before her mind could travel down that path, the train pulled into the station and Emma quickly jumped out of her seat and scrambled onto the platform. The journey had taken less time than she thought. She found a taxi outside the station and climbed in, gave the address of the clinic and settled back to watch the small town flit by.
The clinic itself was a large stately home set up high on a hill overlooking the town. Under any other circumstances Emma might have appreciated the beauty of the location but her heart had already begun to hammer in her throat and she wiped her sweaty palms on her pants as they drove through the open wrought iron gates. She thanked the driver, paid him, and stepped onto the gravel pathway.
Once the receptionist has signed Emma in and searched her bag to make sure she wasn't smuggling in any contraband items, she was shown into a small visitors room. She didn't sit however and instead stared out of the window over the countryside beyond, trying to calm her nerves. She still jumped when the door clicked open behind her. Spinning around, she gasped when she saw her friend.
"August, you look … well, you look great."
"Thanks," he replied with a small smile. "And thank you for coming."
"You said you needed to see me," Emma said, taking in the man before her whom she barely recognised.
August's face was clean shaven and his hair was cropped closely to his scalp. He was wearing a white linen shirt and his hands were hidden in the pockets of some jeans. Emma could tell his fingers were fidgeting, however. She hesitated before taking one of the seats and after a moment, August sat down too.
"How have you been?" Emma asked after a pause.
"Good," August said. "The first few days were tough. I suffered a bit from withdrawal but now I … yeah, I feel good."
"I'm really glad," Emma said earnestly. She didn't know exactly what she had expected but what she was seeing was far better than she had ever imagined. She had never seen August looking so healthy and, frankly, happy.
"How is your new job going?" August asked.
Emma was surprised he even remembered that little bit of information but was touched that he did.
"Great thanks," she smiled. "I'm really enjoying it."
"Isn't that the key to life?" August asked. "Finding work that feels like play?"
Emma shrugged. "Is that why you got yourself fired from the building site? It wasn't fun enough for you?"
She hadn't meant to sound so harsh and even she winced a little at her words. August however, seemed nonplussed.
"No," August said. "I got fired because I have a problem. I'm addicted to alcohol and I didn't know how to stop myself drinking. I made mistakes and my employer was completely right in his decision to fire me. I was a danger to myself and others. In his position, I would have done exactly the same thing."
Emma's eyes widened in surprise. Clearly someone was working through the twelve steps. In fact, Emma already suspected why August had asked her to visit him but before she could ask a question, he answered it for her.
"Emma, I wronged you and I need to make amends," he said. "Are you willing to listen?"
"I … um, yeah," Emma nodded at last.
August gave a small smile and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small chip. Emma knew exactly what it was. After a moment, August handed it to Emma who took it and turned it over. The number twenty one was printed on the other side.
"That's how many days I've been sober," August said. "It's also the longest I've ever been sober since I left the army five years ago. It started off with a drink or two with friends in the evenings. It was normal, sociable, acceptable behaviour. But then I began to drink faster than my friends, more than everyone else around me. And then, when I ended up on the streets and couldn't afford alcohol, that was when I knew I had a problem. I would do anything necessary to get the booze. And yet I still didn't stop. I tried to. Several times, in fact. I tried after I met you, Emma. I saw the way you looked at me when I drank and I knew you hated it. I managed two days. I don't know if you remember towards the end of November when I was really moody?"
"I remember," Emma replied. "Is that why?"
"Yeah," August nodded. "I tried but I wasn't strong enough. And then when my PTSD came back in December I knew I had to get out of the city to cope but I also knew I needed alcohol. I didn't want to see that look of disappointment on your face so I … I left."
"Without telling me," Emma said, her voice a little harder.
"I regret that," August said. "I wish I had said something to you. I didn't want you to think you were alone but I knew I couldn't say anything without you trying to talk me out of it. This wasn't your problem, Emma. I didn't want you dragged into it."
"Too late," the blonde said. "It was too late the moment you rescued me that night, August. I owed you and I would have done anything to help you out. You know that, right?"
"I do now," August nodded. "And that's what I wanted to say to you today. Thank you for always being there for me. Thank you for sticking by me even though I don't deserve a moment of your time because you are an infinitely better human being. And thank you for not giving up on me, for believing I can get clean. Because now I'm here, I believe that too."
Emma opened her mouth and then closed it again. She didn't know what to say. She supposed August should thank her. After all, it was she who called the ambulance and saved his life and it was her girlfriend who was footing the bill for his rehab. But that didn't make her a better person than him.
"You're welcome," she said after a while. "And you don't have to thank me. That's what friends do for each other."
"So we're still friends?" August asked, his voice hopeful.
Emma smiled. "We'll always be friends, August," she assured him. "And not just because of what we've been through but because I think you're a good person. Troubled, perhaps, but good. And I'm not better than you. I've made plenty of mistakes in my life too. I've done things I regret. I've left people too so I know exactly how you're feeling and it's a horrible place to be, especially if you think you're alone. But you're not. You've got me."
August pulled Emma into an awkward hug, their chairs tilting towards one another as he did so. Emma squeezed him back, missing the previously familiar weight of him against her. They had, after all, slept side by side in the tunnel for months. She decided he needed to hear it.
"I missed you, August," Emma whispered into his ear.
"I missed you too."
By the time Emma returned to the penthouse, she was cutting it fine. As soon as she walked through the door, Regina was dragging her into the bedroom and undressing her. Normally Emma would like where this was leading but instead she stood in her underwear, looking sceptically at the dress Regina was now carrying towards her.
"Are you sure I look ok in this?" Emma asked, eyeing the item of clothing with suspicion.
"Emma, honey, you look absolutely stunning," Regina assured her. "Everyone in that shop was staring at you, remember?"
"Pretty sure it was because they couldn't believe how much the dress cost," she said, eyebrows raised pointedly.
"Quiet," Regina admonished, tapping Emma on the thigh and encouraging her to step into the dress she had lowered to the floor.
The blonde did so, and Regina pulled the material up and circled around to zip up the back. Emma was left standing staring at herself in the full length mirror. She barely recognised the woman reflected back at her. The blood red dress with its sweet heart neckline, elegant A-line and one ruffle floating from her right ribcage across to her left knee fit her like a glove. But that didn't mean she felt comfortable in it. Brown eyes peering over her shoulder caught the misgivings on Emma's face before the blonde could force a smile.
"Hey, if you're not happy with this dress, you can wear another," Regina assured. "The one you wore to the theatre would be fine too."
"No," Emma said. "I love this dress and you spent so much money on it and -,"
"You're not happy," Regina interrupted. "I don't want to make you wear something you don't feel comfortable in."
Emma sighed, a frown appearing on the face reflected back at her as she regarded herself in the mirror. "I just … it looks like someone stuck a beautiful dress on a girl who doesn't deserve to be wearing it. I feel like a sham: dressing up as someone I'm not."
"What are you?" Regina asked.
"I'm … I dunno, I'm just Emma. Dorky foster kid turned criminal turned beggar. I'm not someone who wears dresses which cost more than a month's rent."
Regina moved to stand between Emma and the mirror and took her face in her hands, forcing the nervous green gaze to meet her own.
"Do you want to know what I see?" Regina asked.
Emma nodded.
"I see a beautiful, elegant, kind-hearted, intelligent young woman whom I love very much and whom I think could do anything she wanted if she just set her mind to it. You're not a foster kid any more, Emma. You're not a criminal. You're not a beggar. You're Emma Swan and you're one of the most amazing women I've ever had the pleasure to meet. And I can't wait to spend the evening with you by my side."
Emma couldn't help but smile back at the woman before her. She could feel tears pricking her eyes but she blinked them back and placed a soft kiss to Regina's lips.
"Will you help me with my hair?" she asked, a little shyly.
An hour later and they were pulling up outside a grand hotel. A man rushed forward to open the door and Regina, then Emma, stepped onto the plush carpet leading up to the entrance hall. Regina reached for Emma's hand at once and gave a little squeeze.
"Ready?" she whispered.
Emma nodded, her freshly curled hair bouncing a little.
Regina led the way, confident and purposeful, and the two of them swept up into the grand ballroom which was already full of people. Lawyers, Emma decided at once, were not her kind of people. Regina introduced her to a few of them as they made their way to the bar to get a much-needed drink. As she was ordering two glasses of champagne, a familiar voice rang out behind them.
"Didn't you wear that dress to cousin Michael's fortieth last year?"
"Good evening, mother," Regina said, turning around and plastering a fake smile on her face. "It's lovely to see you too."
Cora ignored the sarcasm and instead continued to eye Regina's black dress with scepticism.
"Actually, it's new," Emma said, looping her arm around Regina's waist and accepting the offered glass of champagne. "We both went dress shopping last weekend. Regina treated me to this one and bought herself this beautiful black number. Don't you think she looks incredible tonight?"
Cora merely pursed her lips and turned away, scanning the crowd.
"Regina, I need you to come with me and speak to Rupert Bond and his wife. I can't get on the prissy woman's good side and until I do, there's no way Bond and Jenkins will consider working with us. They're over there at the moment and I just saw Tim Jenkins too."
Regina glanced at Emma but the blonde just nodded her encouragement.
"Go, I know this is a work thing," she assured. "I'll be fine here. This bar's free right?"
Regina laughed and nodded, kissing Emma lightly on the lips and promising she'd be back as soon as possible. Emma watched her walk away, her delectable ass encased in skin-tight satin. Once Regina had been swallowed by the crowds, she scanned the room. Everyone looked amazing; Armani suits, Prada clutch bags, Dolce and Gabana dresses. Jewellery glinted in the light cast from the chandeliers overhead. Emma snagged a canapé from a passing waiter and began to admire the domed ceiling, magnificently painted high above her.
"I was wondering when I'd bump into you again."
The champagne glass slid from between Emma's fingers and shattered on the floor, glass skittering around her feet but she didn't care. She lowered her gaze until it met those cold blue eyes she had hoped she would never see again.
"Killian."