Archie's eyes tell the story his smile seems unwilling to tell; the last couple of weeks seem to have left him exhausted, overworked, and underappreciated. As much as he enjoys his job, the breaking of Regina's curse brought with it an overflow of traumatized, confused, and lost (both metaphorically and physically) citizens in need of his assistance. The fact that I find myself being one of them is both humbling and embarrassing…after all, I'm supposed to be the one leading the way forward into our altered lives in this world. It's my job to put on a brave face, to try to soften the blow of our mutual "great awakening," and I promise, I'm trying my best…it's just a lot to handle.

"David?"

I glance up from the string I've been messing with on my sleeve and am met with his analytical gaze; even now, I have a difficult time staying present in whatever world I find myself in. "I'm sorry, Archie," I breathe out, offering a weak smile apologetically. "I zoned out for a second. What did you say?"

Archie laughs a little, shrugging and twisting the cap of the pen he holds in his hands. "Well, you were beginning to tell me a bit more about Emma; now that the curse has been broken, and you've been reunited, I was just wondering how things have been going?"

I nod, but my eyes once again are averted to my sleeve; with a heavy sigh, I try to pick up the words I know I need to share, but finding the right ones can be a painful process…the heaviness of my tongue (not to mention the instinct to try and force down the emotion that hits the back of my throat) makes me swallow hard. I notice my left leg starts bouncing a bit, but I don't make any conscious effort to stop it. "Things have been…tense," I begin, glancing up at him before looking back down. "Don't get me wrong, I am very happy that the curse is broken. Hell, I am so proud of her…she did what she needed to do, even though it was a really tough pill to swallow."

"So did you," Archie replies quietly, a small smile tugging at one side of his mouth.

The scoffing laugh escapes before I can bite it back. "Yeah, sure we did. And now look what we have to show for it. Knowledge is both a blessing and a burden; before the curse was broken, Emma and I were beginning to build somewhat of a friendship. I had the privilege of getting to know her without the weight of this pain or this…fear. Now that she knows who we are, what we had to do…" I bite the inside of my cheek and clear my throat. "Now that she knows, this chasm has opened up between her, Snow, and me, and it feels like one we will never be able to cross to really get to each other. We are reunited physically, yeah, but we're still somehow so far apart. She has twenty-eight years of rejection, pain, abandonment, and fear to face…I just wish that she'd let me in, even a little bit. I want to help my daughter, but when she looks at me with that heaviness in her eyes, my heart shatters. I want to retreat…I want to run. Because I caused that." My hands ache in memory of the fight that almost took my life as I raced to get her to the wardrobe only moments after her birth. "It's because of me that we were separated. I could have kept her here."

I can hear the scribbles Archie's making on his notepad; why is it that every time he writes something down, I feel a sense of judgement? I know it's my own paranoia, and he's just doing his job…but it still makes me feel like a basket case. He puts down the pen and notepad on the small table near his chair, leans his elbows on his knees and looks me in the eyes. "You know, you were put in an impossible situation," he says gently, "one in which nobody wins. You made the best choice you could with what information you had available to you at the time. I can't pretend to understand what it feels like to bear the weight of a kingdom on my shoulders, but as someone who has been in pretty impossible situations once or twice, I can tell you from experience that there comes a time in everyone's life where we find ourselves at a fork in the road; both options lead down dark paths where nobody wins either way, and there is no way to turn back. You chose hope, David. You chose what would hopefully bring about the freedom of your people and, most importantly, carried the hope that one day you would be reunited once more with your family. Had Emma not been sent through the wardrobe into this world, we would still be stuck in our cursed lives…and there would be no guarantee that you would have been kept together as a family through it." He stops and takes a sip of his coffee, which I'm sure had grown cold hours ago. "After all, you and Mary Margaret were still separated. Emma might have been raised in a completely different home or experienced much worse hardships."

There is no saliva left in my mouth; deep anger is rising up, a rage-filled monster digging itself out of a grave that I keep trying to bury it in, and I close my eyes momentarily, taking some deep breaths to try and calm myself. After all, Archie's only stating facts. Memories collide within like freshwater meeting saltwater; I feel them overlapping and clashing, this messy collage of real and fake concoctions and experiences. Never in my life has rage become such a beast to try and conquer. The casualties left in the wake of Regina's lust for vengeance were unthinkable; I know I am not the only one fighting for both the life we used to have as well as the life we are trying to rebuild, but when I made the decision to trust that our daughter would find her way back to us some day, I could have never imagined how much sorrow would come with our reunion or how angry I would become…how completely helpless I would feel at the end of it all.

"I know…I know." I glance down at my phone as it buzzes, and my wife's name pops across the screen.

Archie notices and flips some pages over in his notepad, uncrossing his legs and clearing his throat. "How about this week, we make it a goal for you to schedule some one-on-one time with Emma. Work on trying to build the friendship you were building with her as David…perhaps that will open the door for you to get to know her more as 'Dad.'"

I nod and shake his hand in thanks, my phone ceasing its buzzing as I get up and head towards the door. "Same time next Tuesday, then?"

Archie chuckles and nods, patting his notepad. "I'll be here. You know you can call if you need me, Your Highness."

"Thanks, Archie. That goes both ways," I respond with a nod before closing the door behind me. As I make my way out of the building, I check my messages; apparently Mary Margaret and Henry are baking while Emma is away on official sheriff business, and while it seems like a messy deal, the cookies still look delicious. I bring up my messages with Emma and shoot her a quick text: Can you meet me at Granny's when you're all finished up?

Walking around through town, I nod and smile in greeting as I run into others who are about their business, mingling a little as some stop me to tell me about their reunions, their struggles with finding family members, and some who just want to shoot the wind a little. I love hearing about their lives; while the burden of leadership can be taxing in many different ways, getting the chance to know the people around us and join with them in their joys, their sorrows, their ups and downs makes wearing the title of royalty somewhat bearable. I feel my pocket buzz once more while talking with a younger man named Jim…he is right in the middle of telling me how his mother is trying to find the funds to rebuild an inn they'd owned before it was burned down, and I glance down quick to see that Emma had texted me back. Sure, be there in five.

"Excuse me, Jim…I have to head to Granny's to meet up with my daughter for lunch," I say, clapping him on the shoulder. "Let's meet up sometime soon, though; my wife is pretty great at fundraising. Maybe we can come up with some ideas on how to raise the funds for your family's inn."

He gives me a half-smile and nods, but the look in his eyes makes me wonder if he has other plans in mind. "Yeah, for sure; I'd really like that. Thank you so much."

"Of course," I reply, feeling a bit hurried now that I know I'm about to meet up with Emma…anxiety is kicking in, and I feel my palms getting a bit sweaty. "I'll catch you later."

There is a brisk wind today, and the sun keeps hiding behind the clouds, but that isn't the source of my sudden trembling. I make my way towards Granny's, which (thankfully) is pretty close by, and once I get inside I make eye contact with Ruby, who gives me a smile and a knowing nod. "Go ahead and find a seat; I'll grab you some coffee."

"Thanks, Ruby…can you grab a hot cocoa with some cinnamon, too? Emma should be here any minute," I throw in. I am so thankful for the friendships we have in our community; they are literal life savers.

"You got it," she agrees, finishing bagging up a to-go order at the counter as I grab a seat at a booth near the front entrance. Looking out the window, I catch sight of Emma's police vehicle parking out front. It's so striking to me how much she looks like her mother; it shouldn't be, really…I know how things work on that front, but it makes my heart so glad that she inherited her mother's spirit, many of her facial features, her boldness, and her desire for justice. She has my hair, my stubbornness, my impulsiveness...Mary Margaret always says she inherited many more good things from me as well, but as I have a difficult time pinpointing them within myself, I just chock it up to her being her mother's daughter in every way. She's perfect to me.

Emma pulls her hair into a pony tail and locks the car before walking into the diner just as Ruby was bringing the coffee and hot cocoa. They greet each other as Emma takes a seat across from me, taking off her leather jacket and thanking Ruby as she warms her hands on the mug. She looks up at me, and I can't help it…my heart melts. She has no idea how much I love her. "Hey," she greets softly, taking a sip.

"Busy day, huh?" I say, trying to sound a bit more upbeat and less…emotionally compromised.

She rolls her eyes, wiping some of the whipped cream from her top lip, and snorts. "That's an understatement," she groans. "Ever since things changed, the phone's been ringing non-stop. Growing up, I was always taught that 911 was only supposed to be for emergencies, but everyone keeps calling with so many questions that I have zero answers to. It's like they think because I'm some sort of 'savior' that I have some kind of 'secret knowledge of all things', but to be honest, I feel even more confused than I did before the curse was broken."

Welcome to being royal, Sweetheart, I think bleakly to myself, nodding in understanding. "Forward them our way," I tell her softly. "You don't have to carry that burden on your own."

"I know, but…" she starts, then stops, a blush rising to her cheeks. She shakes her head and sighs. "I guess my head is still reeling about…everything."

"I totally get it…you have every right to be overwhelmed. It's a lot to expect you to just accept all at once." I let the warmth of my coffee mug ground my thoughts, and I study her face as she struggles with the weight of her own emotions. "I know you don't really want to talk about…us, or our family…but I also know that with everything coming to light, it has to bring up a lot more questions than it gives answers." I pause, taking a sip of coffee. She was playing with the whipped cream in her mug with her spoon, visibly tense. "So, you don't need to say anything. But there are some things that I need to get off of my chest, and I would really appreciate you listening to what I have to say."

Her eyes glance up at me curiously for a moment before returning to the swirls she's making in her hot cocoa as she gives me a soft nod. I let out a deep breath, collecting my thoughts. I take one more swig of coffee before I start. "Look…I don't really know how to do this, either. When I laid eyes on you for the first time, it stole my breath from my body. You were…are….perfect to me. I knew in that single moment that I would do anything for you." Emotion is rising from my heart into my throat once more, and I try to clear it, but in this case I know it's useless. The tears are already springing to my eyes. "It kills me that we couldn't come with you. It kills me knowing how much you suffered, how hard you had to fight just for your own survival. Saying 'I'm sorry' just doesn't cut it. That's why now that we are together again, I want you to know that I will spend every moment for the rest of my life trying to make it up to you…as much as you'll allow me to."

"David…" she starts, and I can see her jaw lock; her eyes are beginning to get a bit red herself, and I can see her battling her own emotions. "I can't hear this right now."

"I understand, but please…please, Emma. Just let me finish."

She looks out the window, focusing on something outside as she takes a shaky breath, nodding. "Fine."

"You don't have to ever accept me as your father," I say quietly. "It's a lot to ask of you, and with everything that has happened, I totally get it if you'd rather we stick to being friends. I want you to know that I don't expect anything from you or of you in that regard…but I am here if you ever reach a point where you'd like to have that kind of relationship." I want to leave it at that, but I know I can't…not if I am going to be true to myself and how I feel. "But even if that never happens, I need you to know that you will always be my daughter…you could hate me until the end of time, and I will still love you. I'm here now, and I am not planning on going anywhere. When you need me, I will be there. I will fight to protect you and Henry with everything in me, and if you need anything at all…you can ask me." I let out a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to hug her, but I know that would be way too much right now. "You are so courageous, intelligent, determined, brave, strong, beautiful, kind – everything a father could ever want his daughter to be. You had to do a lot of really hard things all on your own, and while it breaks my heart, you became that incredible person all on your own. I could not be more proud of you, Emma."

Tears were falling down her cheeks, and she quickly tried to wipe them away. "Thanks," she says awkwardly after a moment. "Um, I should probably run and, um…grab Henry. We were going to go for a walk by the docks, so…"

"Yeah, of course," I say, clearing my throat. "I'm sure he'll be excited to get out for a bit…he and Mary Margaret were baking earlier, but I doubt they've had much of a chance to leave the apartment today."

She lets out a quiet, joyless laugh, putting her jacket back on. "I think the fresh air will do us both some good." I see the tension in her movements; when you aren't used to it being given or expressed, love feels very uncomfortable, overwhelming, and threatening.

"Forgive me," I tell her quietly as I lay our money on the table, including a tip, and walk out with her towards her car. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to know that I'm here for whenever…if ever…you should need me, whatever it looks like. I love you."

"I know," she replies, unlocking the door and, with a tense, brief smile. "Thanks for the hot cocoa."

"Any time." I watch her get into the car and start it up, and as she pulls away to head towards the loft, I put my hands inside my pockets and slowly make my way down the block.