entrancelogs | [OPEN] But you can skyrocket away from me;

Entry tags:

[OPEN] But you can skyrocket away from me;

Who: Emma Swan & you!
Where: The eighth floor, then out on the grounds.
When: 4/7, all day.
Rating: PG
Summary: Emma realizes that Henry's disappearance is permanent.
The Story:

It wasn't unusual for Lucky to try and drag Emma out of bed before she was ready. The only thing that made today any different was that no matter how many times she tried to swat him away and insisted he let her sleep, he continued to press his nose against her feed, relocating to do the same with her face when his first attempts didn't get results. It was the whining that broke her, and she sighed heavily as she grudgingly pushed the covers aside, forcing herself to her feet despite the desire to stay in bed a little longer and try to hold onto those first few minutes of waking where she didn't quite remember that Henry was missing.

"Alright, alright. I'm up. Come on, let's get you some breakfast."

The dalmatian raced ahead of her to reach the bedroom door first, pawing at it until Emma pulled it open with every intention of heading into the small living space that was smushed between her room and Henry's -- but stopped short two steps in.

The door opposite of her bedroom was gone, nothing but smooth, blank wall and a single mirror in its place. A quick look around the room was enough to confirm what she had already begun to suspect, and her heart dropped into her stomach. There was no trace of Henry there in that room. None of his books, none of his clothes, none of the things were where she had left them. Even his backpack was missing from its place beside their couch.

Nothing. There was nothing left of him. He was gone. Back in New York, back having the life he should have had, but without her.

It was the last part that hurt so badly.

For a moment she felt numb. Lucky went and parked himself in front of the mirror that had replaced Henry's door while Emma slowly forced herself to swallow down the sick feeling that had begun to rise, fumbling her way through the next ten minutes or so but somehow coming out the other end fully dressed and mostly presentable, despite the fact that a part of her felt like she had to have been half-asleep still.

The first thing to do was to talk to Regina. They had both been worried about this, both known that it had been a possibility, but held onto a little bit of hope as long as Henry's things were still there. Heading across the hallway to Regina's room, Emma took in a sharp breath and knocked.

--

Getting out of the mansion seemed like the only thing to do after talking to Regina. The last place she wanted to be was her own room, so foreign now that the tiny living space it had grown into thanks to Henry's presence had now cut itself nearly in half, as though he'd never been there. All Lucky had been able to do was circle the room and occasionally stop to paw at the spot where Henry's bedroom door had been, more than indication enough that they both needed to get out. Grabbing her jacket and Lucky's leash, she headed out to the grounds.

Anyone who might encounter her early in the day will find her either in the garden or out near the chessboard hills with Lucky in tow. Lunchtime will find her back inside and in the kitchen, rather than the diner -- it doesn't feel right to go without Henry. During the afternoon, she'll make her way to the beach, allowing Lucky to run up and down its length as he sees fit before settling herself on the end of the dock, apparently lost in thought, though she'll absently pet Lucky whenever he happens to trot over and lay his head in her lap.

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She just looks at him for a moment, as though trying to process the fact that he's agreeing with her. It's not the first time he's angled for her approval, but this feels different. Like he actually gets it. She lets out a short, humorless laugh and faces forward, looking out towards the water and raking her fingers through her hair, pushing it back and away from her face.

"Who'd have ever thought an orphan and a pirate would be sitting around talking about family."

Not her, that's for damn sure.

He smiles wryly and pulls out his flask, offering it to her. He has a feeling she could use the drink. It is odd, the two of them talking about family. Odd, yet also not so odd. They both spent such a long time family-less. It makes sense that they'd have more to discuss.

"Stranger things have happened. And likely will again."

It's not the first time they've shared a drink together, and while she takes a moment to give the flask a wary, almost hesitant look, she accepts it from him and tips it back, taking a long swig and letting its contents burn their way down her throat. She's always been more of a beer girl, but some situations call for something a little harder.

Grimacing, she hands it back to him. "Thanks."

Sometimes all a person needs is someone to commiserate with.

"Stranger things. Guess they have." Like the two of them being on the same side in the first place, when initially she'd written him off as untrustworthy beyond a shadow of a doubt. She pauses for a moment, considering something before continuing.

"He's safer away from here, isn't he? ... you said that back home, something was coming. That was why you looked for me."

If Henry is in danger, she needs to know. Even if she can't do anything about it from here.

That's the thing, of course. He doesn't know. Something was coming for Emma's family, but as far as he knew, it hadn't touched Emma. Yet, anyway. And Henry had been from before that. Before Hook had barged in and brought the magic back.

"Aye, I believe he is. And for what it's worth, he has you, even if you don't have him."

He takes a swig from the flask himself, savoring the burn.

"I guess that's something."

It was worth remembering. Henry wasn't alone -- it was just her. She was the one who had to do without him, not the other way around. He'd become such a constant presence in her life over the last couple of years that it was easy to forget just how much time they'd missed out on together, those first ten years -- easy to forget until she reminded herself that she'd let him down enough for one lifetime.

She exhales slowly, leaning back to rest her weight on her hands.

This sucks.

"Starting to feel like the real curse is on our whole family. We're never all together when we should be. Even when we are, it's not right. There's always someone who doesn't remember someone else, something that doesn't line up."

"And yet, your parents have a point." He shifts a bit, turning his body towards her so he can look her straight in the eye. "Yeah, it's a bloody mess, and things have far too much of a tendency to go very, very wrong, but you're forgetting something important." He leans in a bit, his voice lowering to just above a whisper. "You keep finding each other."

And how many others can say that? By now any other family would have given up and gone on to live separate lives if they'd lived at all. Not Emma's family. They'd faced more than their fair share of adversary, and they were still here and more or less together.

"We do."

There's no denying that. Come hell or high water, even if it means travelling across worlds, they always find each other -- though it's never quite the way they want to. It's never exactly how it should be.

She sighs again, dropping her chin to avoid his eyes for a moment. Something about eye contact makes her uncomfortable. It makes a person too easy to read. She's not sure she wants him to read exactly how she's feeling right now -- but avoiding his gaze won't do much to stop it. He's been pretty good at reading her for awhile now. He's nothing if not observant.

"Only took me twenty-eight years the first time around, but since then, we keep finding each other -- over and over. It's lucky compared to what some people have, but the crap that drives us apart... it's a lot. The responsibility of handling all the messes that come our way is a lot."

"Yeah, it is." He sounds sad as he admits it. It's a lot, and by growing closer to Emma, he's signing himself up to be a part of all that. To care when her family breaks apart and help her try and piece it together. It makes him wonder just how long it'll be til something happens to tear him and Emma apart.

Probably a while, since they're not really together. She may be his love, but he doesn't know if he's hers.

"But I've seen how strong you are, Swan. If anyone can bear that burden, it's you." He squeezes her shoulder. "Though it'd be nice, I'll admit, if you didn't have to."

For a moment, she doesn't move. Doesn't respond, doesn't do much of anything as the weight of the situation settles over her. She's always considered herself a realist. Some people would call her cynical, in fact, but now and then, she was able to push herself to have hope. This would be one of those times, after some grieving had been done. Sheer force of will and determination would see to that, but right now...

Right now, she just missed her son. Right now, she wanted to be comforted.

She grimaces, looking to him as she blindly lifts her own hand to rest it over his on her shoulder. It's more physical affection than she's shown anyone in a long time.

She doesn't want to think about what it means. She doesn't think about how he might take it, how it it might effect things afterwards. All she can think about is the fact that she wants to forget, just for a moment, how awful she feels -- and so she leans in for a kiss without preamble, without any framing it as a reward or anything at all other than the act itself.

For now, she can just let it be what it is.

He wasn't expecting it at all.

It's welcome, of course. He's wanted to kiss Emma Swan for a long time. Even more so now that it's happened once before. But now, in the grief of losing her son? He hadn't expected it.

But perhaps he should have. She needs comfort. She needs love. And Hook's qualified to give both.

He kisses her back, slowly and sweetly, pulling her a little closer. He doesn't push for more. That's not what this is about. He's just doing his best to be here for her.

It's nothing like the kiss they'd shared in Neverland. That kiss had been hard and aggressive, a sudden release of need that had been allowed to built up over time until it beat beneath her skin and distracted her, unable to tell at the time if she had done it because she really wanted to or just because they butted heads so often that it seemed like the only place left for them to go.

This one was softer, almost uncertain, though she steadied herself by burying her fingertips in the short hair at the nape of his neck, letting the kiss persist until she felt the need to break for air, pulling back with her lips still parted, looking for all the world like, just for a moment, she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't.

This kind of thing didn't come naturally to her. It never had.

Seemed like these things only ever happened for them during times of trouble. Then again, when weren't they faced with some kind of looming problem, anyway?

"Guess I have to eat my own words... about the last one being a one-time deal."

"If it helps, I didn't really believe you anyway." He smirks at her, though there's far too much affection in his eyes for the expression to hold much bite. It's only partly true, anyway. He suspected they'd kiss again. No one could kiss him like that and truly only want to do it once. But he'd also desperately feared it would be the last time, either because one of them (probably him) would die going up against Pan, or because he'd read the signals wrong.

But here she was, kissing him again, and like that. He leans in a little.

"I don't think this'll be the last time, either." He murmurs, and just to prove himself right, he presses his lips softly against hers.

She doesn't have it in her to protest right away. The second kiss is soft, gentler than anything she might have expected Hook himself to initiate, and that alone makes it easy to fall into, easy to lose herself in even if it's only for a moment.

She doesn't do romance. She doesn't do hearts and flowers and soft kisses -- it never ends well for her. It's always heartache, always ends with her being left alone all over again, and since Henry's found her, she's always had him to consider, too. But he's not here. Maybe the fact that he's not here means that for once she doesn't have to bully herself into being closed off in the name of being responsible, but--

But that's just her. Henry's not the reason she guards her heart so closely.

She pulls back, putting a hand against Hook's chest to encourage him to keep his distance.

"I-- need to go."

"Emma..." The word is soft, like a caress, or perhaps a prayer, carrying all the things he wants to say but doesn't think she's ready to hear. He loves her. He'd like to comfort her more, to hold her and keep her close and safe until she could face this world without her son.

But he doesn't move to hold her close again. He just looks at her, trying to say all the words he can't voice with his eyes alone.

She knows what the look means. In an instant, she reads exactly what he's trying to convey, and it's too much -- it's overwhelming, too many things she's nowhere near ready for, things she's never wanted to allow herself to have simply for fear of losing them.

She knows how to handle being alone. She's better alone.

"I just-- have to go."

She gets to her feet without further explanation, though there's hesitation there before she turns her back, as though she's second-guessing herself, ready to drop back down beside him and kiss him all over again--

But she doesn't. All she does is spare him one last glance over her shoulder before beating a hasty retreat towards the mansion.

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[OPEN] But you can skyrocket away from me;

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