Title: I Will Always Find You
Pairing: Emma/August & past Emma/Neal Cassady
Summary: One of my takes on what will happen in 'Tallahassee'.
Warnings: (Spoilers for Season Two) Implied sexy times.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: I post a lot of theories on tumblr and this emerged from one of them because it's what I want to see happen on the show. And to anyone who is confused…magical f*ckery. That's all.
Emma Swan sat at her tiny dining room table that also served as her desk. Since her release from jail, she'd spent time learning the ins and outs of the Bounty Hunter business, determined that she would one day hunt that bastard Neal down and pay him back for what he'd done to her.
She'd just turned seventeen and run away from her last boyfriend. Still stupid and naive, she'd fallen for his charms and trusted that he would help take care of her. But that proved to be a stupid decision. Trusting him had done nothing but land her in jail with a baby on the way.
The only comfort she took was in knowing that she'd been pregnant before she met him.
Emma tried not to dwell on the son she'd felt forced to give up. After all, she'd been in jail at the time, completely unable to provide for him and his father had no idea he existed. She knew that was no life for a child and she wanted to give him better than she'd had.
Giving Henry away had been the hardest decision she'd ever made and she lived with that decision every day. She'd give anything to have him back but she couldn't put him through that, so she spent her days longing for the life she should have been able to give him, with nothing more than a few moments to remind her of him.
His sonogram photos. His birth certificate. The only picture she had of him from after he'd been born. And an obituary for her foster brother, for whom her son was named after.
Emma let out a sigh, picking up Henry's birth certificate.
How different would things have been if she hadn't run out on out his father? His father who had done nothing more than love her too much. Emma hadn't been as jaded then as she was now, but she had been a broken teenager, hardened from years in the foster system and unused to having someone so willing to put her first and look out for her.
It seemed stupid now, especially since if she had stayed, she'd still have her kid.
A knock at the door interrupted herself induced angst and Emma frowned. She'd been in Tallahassee less than three months and she hadn't exactly made friends, so she had no idea who in the Hell would be calling on her, especially at this hour.
Checking to make sure her gun was loaded; Emma shoved it into the waistband of her jeans before checking the peephole. Panic coursed through her and before she could register her actions, she flung the door open, staring fuckstruck at the man standing before her.
"You found me," she managed to choke out.
He closed the gap between them and she pulled him against her, returning his kisses with fervor. Kicking the door shut, he led her to the bedroom.
Afterward, Emma sat in bed, hugging her knees to her chest while he placed small kissed on her shoulder.
"Nothing," Emma lied, agonizing over the truth she'd kept from him. He had the right to know.
"Does it have anything to do with why you left?"
Emma sighed and turned to meet his eyes.
"You know I don't do well with…" She sighed.
"Letting someone love you?"
Emma shot him a flare.
"You can glare all you want, Emma; it doesn't change the fact that I love you."
"Still? After all this time?"
He pushed back a loose piece of her hair.
"I went looking for you, didn't I?"
He cupped her cheek and pulled her into a kiss. Emma traced her fingers over his face, breaking away from their kiss with a small sigh of resignation.
"You and I both know I'll just run again, it's the only thing I'm good at."
His lips slowly turned up into a smirk.
"You shouldn't bother, I'll just find you again; I'll always find you."
Emma leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Damn you, August," she whispered, trying not to think about the piece of paper on her desk that read:
Name of Child: Henry Wayne Booth
In a small town in Maine, a dark figure sat along the old well, where the waters no longer held the power to return things that had been lost, sorrow etched onto his face.
He lifted the object in his hand, needing a better view of the picture that lay within the frame, the light of the moon reflecting against the wood that was now his body.
August gazed down at the snapshot taken at Mary Margaret's homecoming party, tracing his finger over the glass, remembering how happy Henry had been to pose alongside his mother and her 'cool' friend. He smiled sadly, thinking that the three of them; himself, Emma, and Henry, made a good looking family.
Not that he knew the truth; Regina's magic had made sure of that.
He wasn't sure what realm Emma had been sucked into or if the woman he'd grown to love since arriving in town was still alive, but he was determined to find a way to bring her back if she was. He'd abandoned her once and he was never going to do it again.
"I'll find you, Emma," he whispered. "I will always find you."