Before they could ever be together,
they needed to trust each other first.
This is a breather scene amid all the intensity
they were submerged in.
On a field overlooking Storybrooke, Emma sat on the grass, tears in her eyes, Henry's storybook in her hands. He had left it in the passenger seat of the bug, making her look back at the first night he'd found her. How long ago has that been? Seems she just found her life yesterday and it'll be taken from her tomorrow. Was there no other way her family could stay together? She was already so lost. Come morning, all of this would be gone. She needed to find her strength... but how could she when she's all alone? Henry would be looking to her for everything – all his stories and wonder set aside in the real world, and her, once again, holding the greatest responsibility...
She was so tired. The wind blew through her hair and rang in her ears; whispering a sad truth. It was as quiet as she was alone.
Hook walked through the field, slowly, silently; taking a deep breath as he watched the view of the small town. "They're looking for you," he said in a hushed tone, unsure if she'd heard him.
She was aware of his presence.
When she didn't respond, he approached her. "Emma, I –"
"What's happening?" she said, staring in plain sight. "To the town; to them? To us?"
"I can't say I know the answer to that."
She looked up at him with weary eyes. "What do you think?"
"I think," he breathed, sitting beside her. "I think that, whatever happens; whatever Pan is planning to do next, whatever the future holds... I know that you always find a way. To stop him, or sabotage him." He paused. "Or find your way back home."
"But that's just it. I don't want to find a way - I'm tired of always finding a way!" She paused and looked at the clock tower right as it ticked, imagining the faintest sound in her ears. How she wished it would just stop so that they could stay with her; keep this moment, this town, right here where it should be. But could she give up like that? She couldn't. She had to keep going. That was her life, and deep down, she knew that giving up was not in her blood. "But I... can't stop. I'm the Savior – I have to find a way."
There was silence for several moments. Hook looked down at her hands, seeing them grip the book so tight, her knuckles turned white. He reached for one of them, hoping to calm it down.
She felt his fingers brush her skin and hesitated. Slowly, she loosened her grip, letting him twine his fingers with hers. He held them there for a moment. As their fingers locked, she felt his warmth radiate through them, enveloping her. And somehow, she felt stronger, but she didn't know why.
"That's why I'm here, love," he said. "To help you find a way. I know you can."
"And you're so sure I can do that." She looked at him, "Why?"
"Well, because you're a hero. And heroes always find a way."
She was incredulous, waiting for another reason; her gaze searching his.
"I believe in you, Emma. You can do this." He squeezed her hand, "We can do this."
Who was this person? How could he possibly have that much faith in her when she was crumbling inside out? Although she didn't feel shame – she felt lighter; as if he took the weight of the world on her shoulders and carried it with her. He wasn't a stranger, but he wasn't family yet either. He was good to her. He was always good to her. She smiled, for the first time in a while, allowing herself - and him - this moment, and rested her head on his shoulder.
He startled at the action: his heart raced, never expected anything of her now - not after he said he'd back away. Not even when he knew perfectly well that he would not cease to follow her, anyway. She trusted him, and right now, that was enough. If the Curse were to separate them, he'd let her stay this way until then. If he wasn't going to see her again after this, he'd never ask her to leave.
In that silence, unmoving, they knew what it meant. For once, she wasn't afraid of him; only of losing him. "Thank you," she whispered against the wind.
He smiled, "It's my pleasure, love."
In that still moment they shared, gratifying and yet mournful; of being together now and separated later – they couldn't break the agony of the silence if they tried. But it was all they had.
- END -