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If you had asked Emma Swan if she was happy, she would have said yes.
Her son was a constant ecstasy. Motherhood was never something Emma felt called to; at least, not until Henry found her. She almost left him after she brought him back to Storybrooke. That would have been the worst mistake of her life. Granted, it took some time to embrace her role as a mother, but now that she had she couldn’t imagine ever giving it up. She loved this kid.
What more was the existence of another significant man in Emma’s life. One, funny enough, she almost missed out on. Here he comes now, she thought with a smile as she noticed her husband entering the room. He possessed a strange adorableness for a grown man, what with his scruffy bedhead and his puppyish, coy smile. Emma will never know what she ever did to deserve such a good guy like him.
”Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she teased, sliding Henry his breakfast.
”Actually,” Henry playfully interjected, happily accepting his meal. “Aurora’s got that role down.”
It was still surreal to think about it; fairy tale characters existing. Even though Emma broke the curse and got everyone their memories back, it stilled seemed too ridiculous. Thankfully, she wasn’t alone through all of this.
”Of course, silly me,” Emma replied, sitting down at the table. “How could I have forgotten? It’s not like Rumpelstiltskin and the Beast are the same person.”
”Don’t forget the Crocodile,” Graham added, joining his seat at the table. “Or Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother.” Ever since Graham consulted Henry about his identity and it turned up being true, he enjoyed going through the rest of the book with the boy. Even though he was from the Enchanted Forest, he spent a good chunk of his life isolated from humans. The discovery of the past of the residents of the town was interesting, especially to see all the webs of interactions among them. Sometimes he’d feel a little guilty, like he was invading their privacy or something, until Emma pointed out, “It’s not like it’s private. They’re in a book.”
”Do you think if I teased Gold about it, he’d attack me with his cane or something?” Emma asked, taking a bite of toast.
”Not if Belle has anything to say about it,” Henry replied. Perhaps the strangest fairy tale of all was the one in which Mr. Gold proposed to his loving fiancée. Still, it had been a long time coming. Who knew the Dark One would be a nervous schoolboy around a girl?
”I’d still be wary around him,” Graham said. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t believe Gold could have changed — he himself was proof that that love could make a better man out of anyone — he was just always looking out for Emma.
”Oh, come on,” she challenged. “You’re telling me that you wouldn’t love to be there if I did?”
”I — I’m not saying anything like that,” he responded, unable to stop himself from smiling widely. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t go looking for unnecessary danger.”
Emma raised her eyebrow as she looked at him. Henry, following his mother’s lead, did the same thing. Graham raised his hands in defeated and chuckled.
”All right, all right,” he said. “I would love to be there, if it ever happened.”
”That way you could arrest Gold if he tried to pull anything on me,” Emma added with a wink. She reached her hand over onto his.
Her husband smiled that heartwarming, sweet smile of his. “To be honest, I’d probably need something to pull me off him rather than arrest him. Not that you would need me to protect you. You’re more than capable of defending yourself.”
”Yeah, you just happen to be the most chivalrous man in all the land,” she joked. “For a guy raised by wolves, you sure do have some manners.”
”Hey,” objected Graham light-heartily, “my family raised me phenomenally, like any family.”
”Where’d you learn to read and write, anyway?” Henry asked, finishing his milk.
The sheriff winked at his step-son. “Well, I still have to keep some things a mystery.”
”Hey, buddy,” Emma replied, “we’re married. No mysteries. Spill the beans.”
Her husband let go a dramatic sigh. “All right, you got me, Ms. Swan,” he said. “I learned from observing nearby families and workers. Not really exciting, but you were just so insistent that you know.”
”That’s pretty impressive, though,” piped Henry from his meal. “Like in Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein.”
Emma exchanged an amused glance with Graham. Victor Frankenstein was another ‘fictional’ character who resided in Storybrooke, but he wasn’t from the Enchanted Forest like the rest of them.
”It wasn’t impressive at all,” Emma retorted, shrugging it off. “Now, what I did? All I did was kiss. I didn’t even intend on breaking any curses when I did it.”
”But you did,” Henry said happily. “You save me, you saved Graham — you saved everyone!”
”I think you’re forgetting your role in this, kid,” she said. “I wouldn’t even know about a curse in any sense if it weren’t for you.”
”It’s true,” he admitted shamelessly. “Hey, you gonna finish that?”
”Yes, I’m going to finish that!”
”Here, Henry,” Graham said, offering his plate. “You can have some of mine if you’re still hungry. There’s plenty left.”
Emma stared at him, half incredulously and half in jest. “You spoil him,” she said, smiling in disbelief.
”That I do,” Graham replied with honesty along with another smile. It was like this man had an eternal smile on his face. Some people may have found such a constant happiness annoying, but Emma loved it. After all he’d been through, after all of his suffering - she was thrilled that Graham had such a happiness in him. She was also thrilled, though she didn’t advertise it, that she had something to do with it. It was ridiculous, really, what a good man he was at heart, and what a good father-figure he was to her son.
The corner of Henry’s lips went up and in no time he was smiling widely. “Well, I’m not complaining,” he said as he helped himself to Graham’s breakfast.
”Of course you’re not,” Emma said as she took some from her spouse’s plate. The response came in the form of a joking protest; he didn’t actually mind at all.
Yes, if you were to ask Emma Swan if she was happy, she’d say yes.
The sheriff’s office was a considerably small place, but sometimes it seemed so big. It was here, after all, her walls were penetrated and she allowed herself to fall in love for the first time in about a decade. It’s where Graham and she shared true love’s first kiss, as corny as it sounded. It was more than that, though; it was as if something - a big something - was missing, that was evading Emma’s memory. As if something terrible happened here that Emma would rather forget, but somehow its ghost still haunted her.
”Everything okay?”
Emma turned her head to see Graham walk into the room. A box of doughnuts were in his hands, ready for consumption. Some cliches are true, he said to her once in a situation similar to this one. This time, though, he wasn’t bribing her to work overtime.
”Yeah,” Emma replied, turning her body around to face him. “Just thinking.” She extended her arm towards the box in his hands.
”May I inquire what you were thinking about?” he asked, approaching closer. It was nice how caring he was and how concerned he’d get, even though sometimes Emma didn’t want to talk about it. Just that there was someone there who deeply cared — well, it was nice. Then again, so were the doughnuts he displayed in front of her.
Emma quickly scanned her options before selecting. Honestly, she didn’t care how cliche it might make her — she loved it. “Just about this place,” she admitted a little vaguely. She took a bite out of her doughnut before being transported to pure dougnutty bliss. “You remember what happened here.”
A glint of recognition appeared in Graham’s eyes. “How could I forget?” he asked with a faint trace of mirth. He placed the box down on his desk despite Emma’s raised eyebrow. His response was another one of his endless reservoir of smiles as his hands reached for the sides of her arms. It was almost comedic, such a serious action while she held a partly eaten doughnut in her hand. That didn’t stop him from locking with her eyes, filled with intense love and amazement. To be looked at like that was indescribable.
Emma returned his small smile with one of her own. “Another curse?” she joked, placing her doughnut down.
”No,” Graham said firmly. “All the curses in all of the lands couldn’t make me forget you. Nothing can. Death itself couldn’t erase what we have.”
At that word Emma saw an intangible flash before her eyes, jolting her back. For a brief second she could see the man before her eyes crumpling to the floor. She staggered backwards with disbelief, eyes opened wide by absolute bewilderment. That “vision” or whatever it was — it seemed so vivid, so real. It didn’t seem like a dream; it felt like a memory. But that was impossible; he was standing right there in front of her. Alive.
”Emma?” Graham asked, his voice full with alarmed concern. His hands instinctively touched her, as if trying to catch her from falling. A dead man couldn’t be worried, couldn’t touch her. “Are you all right?”
Emma just stared at him. Her eyes were conveying a significant message, one overflowing with poignant and important emotion, but he didn’t know what it was. It was scaring him, to be perfectly honest, especially since she wouldn’t say anything. He repeated his question, still with the same concern. “Emma? Emma, are you all right?”
The women responded with raising her arm, her hand finding its way to his heart. The strong, steady beating of a heart welcomed her touch. It was this ‘confirmation’ that caused her own heart to drop. The fact that a warm hand now covered her own only convinced her even more about what she already knew.
”Emma,” he said softly, lowering his face so that his eyes were closer to hers. “Emma, talk to me. Please. I’m right here.”
He eyes shut closed and her eyebrows furrowed, not in anger or confusion, but in pain. Retracting her hand from his chest and his touch, the memories of the past were all too real.
Graham was dead. He was dead — he died in her arms. He dropped straight down to the very floor they stood on. He died, right here. After he felt happiness Pippi Longstocking could only dream of, after he finally, finally got his ‘happy ending’, he died.
This wasn’t real. None of it was real. Except for this pain - that was real.
”Emma — ” the man started gain, with the same genuine concern in his eyes and the same genuine love —
“Stop!“ she shouted, unable to control herself anymore. "Just stop.” Her heart was unable to stand it anymore. It could only take so much.
The man across from her stared at her with heavy eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed with worry and a covering sadness dressed him. He thought it was something he did, she could tell. He’s blaming himself. But he couldn’t, because he wasn’t there.
She didn’t remember breathing being so difficult. She didn’t remember it hurting this much. Love, though — love was definitely this painful. Actually, that maybe not have been true. This time is might have been more painful.
Somehow Emma found the strength to look at him. Running away wouldn’t work this time; it never really did. Some things had a way of following you for the rest of your life. She couldn’t keep on living in denial, no mater how ‘safe it was.
”You’re dead.”
Something in his expression changed. It resembled a pained knowing that triggered something in Emma. For a split second she thought it would be revealed that another one of the Wicked Witch’s underlings was posing as her lover. This was crossing a line — Graham was off limits. She’d make that witch pay.
It soon became obvious to see that the man facing her was genuinely upset. His expression seemed to become a signal that he knew. It was so bizarre how he went from completely oblivious to knowing everything. That was what made Emma think it was a trap, but if it was than this man was a heck of an actor.
”I am so sorry,” he said, his voice soft and broke. There were tears in his eyes. Hesitantly, he grew closer to her. His hands gently cupped her face as his breathing grew shaky. “I — I never meant to bring you pain. Especially after you brought me unimaginable happiness.”
The feeling of his hands on her cheeks was just like that of the last night, in this very station, this very spot. He was crying then, too, but it was out of joy. They were both so happy, so optimistic. Now, there was only grief and torment. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.
”It’s not your fault,” Emma stated with a firmness to it. Him blaming himself just made it hurt all the more. It was another reminder of how good he was. “If it’s anyone’s, It’s Regina’s. It is Regina’s.” And yet, there she was, allying herself with the woman — socializing, even. She was allowing herself to be taught to use magic by the very woman who used her magic to enslave and murder the man in front of her.
There was something to be said regarding the power of eyes. Even now, she could feel the intensity of his soul gazing on her — even though there wasn’t a soul there. He wasn’t there, not really. He’d never really be there.
The realization of this truth hit Emma straight on. It wasn’t that she didn’t know this before; she was there when he died, went to his funeral (even though it killed her from the inside-out), and overlooked a box of his remaining belongings. But for so long, she refused him to linger in her thoughts for this very reason. So, in a sense, Emma was living in denial, denial of how awfully Graham’s passing truly affected her.
”Hey,” Graham said softly, a sad smile trying on his face. “Hey. It’s okay. I promise, okay? You’re strong, Emma; you’ll get through this.” It was like they were one, the way his movements seemed to come naturally to him; the way his movements brought them closer together and radiated something. Surely if there was such a thing as true love, if anything was, surely it would be this?
”I miss you,” she admitted, the confession escaping her soul with a shaking tremor. In it was released all the grief, the sorrow, the pain, the hurt that had been contained all this time. It was one of these rare moment of vulnerability that were becoming less rare, but he had them first.
”I miss you, too,” he whispered. His cheeks were shining, she noticed, with trails of the moonlight. “But I will never, ever leave you. I will always be with you. Understand me? Always.”
There were red noses and shimmering eyes in the station. A particular silence was present, too, the kind that reminds you you’re the only ones there. An eerie, creeping feeling that arises from the sound of no one else there. Maybe it’s because people are afraid to be alone, for they know that without others to anchor themselves to this life, they become far too aware of their existence lost in this world.
That’s part of the reason why Emma’s lips found Graham’s. It was soft, and sad, but it was love, too. Graham returned the kiss, and Emma allowed herself to temporarily forget that it wasn’t really him. She allowed herself to get lost in his lips, divulging in a yearning that had lived in her heart. The wanting that had been buried deep in her chest had crawled its way out. She needed this, to feel him against her, if only for a fleeting moment.
It was inevitable, they knew that, but that didn’t provide any comfort when the finally broke apart. Like fragile glass, her lovely fantasy was shattering into millions of little pieces with reality crushing each piece under its unforgiving boot. She has sworn she would never let it get to her, never hold a glass again just for it to break, or at the very least refuse to pick up the shards (again and again) just so they would cut her. She still had the scars from the first time, except they weren’t really scars; she could still feel the sting as though they were open wound she had received yesterday.
Although their lips were no longer interlocked, their bodies still remained close. They were screaming Stay! Stay! Emma wanted nothing more than to give in to her body’s pleas, but she knew that should couldn’t. She had enough genre savvy to know that it’s not good to stay entrapped in a perfect illusion. Besides, she had a son out there, a son who needed her. Her parents, too - her family - they were all out there. That’s where Emma needed to be.
”I love you,”
”I love you, too,” he replied, with a small, sad smile upon his face. “From now until forever, Emma Swan. I will forever be yours.”
She didn’t understand how a fake illusion could represent Graham so perfectly. It was almost like it was him. Impossible, she knew, but it was all so peculiar. It didn’t try to convince her to stay with him at all; in fact, it did the exact opposite. It did everything Graham would have done. It was truly a perfect reflection of him. That’s where the plan backfired.
Yes, Graham Humbert was a wild card, especially where Emma Swan was concerned.
Emma woke up to a crowded room. It took a moment for all the details of the surrounding environment to sink it. She was in the loft on the bed with Mary Margaret, David, Henry, and Hook, too, loitering around. When they noticed she was awake, they were all obvious with their happiness.
”Mom!” Henry exclaimed cheerfully.
”Emma!” Mary Margaret made her way over to her bed. “How are you feeling?”
”A bit disorientated,” Emma admitted, “but other than that, fine. What happened?”
”Zelena,” David said, moving from the kitchen.
”She did something to you,” her friend/mother explained. “Put some kind of spell on you. You wouldn’t wake up.”
Emma put the pieces together and a light switch flicked on. It all made sense. “She wanted me out of the way and thought this would do the trick.”
”But you woke up,” piped Henry, his beaming smile making its appearance. “How’d you do it?”
Emma didn’t say anything at first. She took took a moment to look around before she was ready to say anything. “To be honest,” she started, a bit hesitantly, “I didn’t really want to. I was in some kind of illusion of my perfect fantasy or something. It took me a while to realize it wasn’t real and even then it was hard for me to let go.” A slight pause. “But I did.”
”Just like that?” David asked, his brow slightly furrowed.
”Just like that,” Emma repeated. Her fingers found there way over to the shoelace around her left wrist.
”Too bad for Zelena,” Hook finally said. “Looks like her plan to put the Savior out of commission failed.”
”It did more than fail,” Emma responded, swinging her legs to the side of the bed. “It completely backfired. She used my emotions and memories and desires against me. No one gets away with that.” There was an anger to her voice, and anger that was completely justified. The thought of Zelena using Graham against her - whether intentionally or not - ignited a further fire in her heart to defeat her.
She wasn’t going to fail this time.