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lessawildmoon · 7 years ago

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She Will Pay - Part 1

Title: She Will Pay

Summary: He should have known better than to trust her change of heart; now he knows the truth he has to act, regardless of the cost.

Pairing/Relationships: Gremma (with just the tiniest bit of background Captain Beauty). Hunted Believer and Swan Believer.

Warnings: Significant mentions of child abuse, referenced rape and abuse (basically, they talk about Regina). Not a regal believer friendly fic.

Rating: M (we have some adult themes and violence going on here).

Notes: So this fic was born as a response to Regina’s actions in Sympathy for the De Vil/Lily. And specifically the thought of what Graham would do when he found out about Regina taking Belle’s heart. This was supposed to be a short thing that would be posted quickly. This is not a short thing that I posted quickly. Nearly two years and over 10K words later, it is at least done, and I hope you enjoy. Part 2 will follow tomorrow.

Special note to my non Gremma shipping people. If you are here because we share similar frustrations with Regina’s character, I think you may enjoy this regardless of the ship.

This was betaed by the amazing @arianakristine, so any mistakes are because I ignored her.

AO3 / FF.net

It had been hard to believe, when Jones had come to him with the imp’s tale, but at the same time so easy. He had tried to so hard to believe, wanted so much to believe, that she had changed, if only for Henry’s sake. For their safety. But he should have known better that to trust her supposed change of heart. And now his friend had been hurt by her again.

Stealing Belle’s heart back from the dragon had proved almost too easy. He had to admit that the pirate was good at creating a distraction, at drawing all attention to himself, and he had some experience of getting in and out of the Mayor’s office through the window. No, that had not been the hard part.

The hard part had been explaining to Belle what Regina had done. She had been disbelieving at first, hardly able to grasp that Regna had taken her offer of help and abused it, abused her. He couldn’t look as Jones had returned her heart, and along with it the memory of what she had been forced to do. He did not ask, but he could tell be the way she almost fell to the floor before Jones caught her that Regina had done more than just use her as leverage.

His eyes locked with the pirate’s over Belle’s head as she cried, no words were needed as he nodded, sealing a silent pact.

Regina would not return to Storybrooke alive.

He had let himself out of the shop quietly, his presence unnecessary. He would be there, later, if she needed him, but right now he could better aid her elsewhere. Time was of the essence; in Storybrooke Regina held too much power. Once she was back in town it would be too risky to move against her, not without enlisting aid that would likely not be forthcoming.

He had not been sure how he would be able to confront her outside of town, but Emma had called on her way back from New York, and had unwittingly provided the solution. Zelena was with child, and they were bringing her back with them. It seemed the sisters had more in common than they would like to admit. Emma had asked him to meet her just outside the town border with Pan’s magic dampening cuff so Zelena could safely be brought into town. Which would give him exactly the opportunity he needed.

Which left one thing to do, Henry. This would probably be his last chance to see the boy he considered his own. Keeping him safe would not come without a price. Once this was done he would likely no longer be welcome, in his or Emma’s life. But he could not go without taking one last chance to see him, to make sure he knew how much he cared. He just had to be careful that the perceptive boy did not catch on to what he was doing.

“You are not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on.” Henry had placed himself firmly in front of the door, leaning against it with his arms crossed and a look of defiance on his face. He was so much Emma’s son at times.

It was his own fault, he had been too obvious. Unfortunately, as subtle as he was on a hunt, that did not translate so well to subtlety in human interactions, but he had had to try.

Henry had been bent over the storybook once again when he had got home, still looking for clues, for any information that might help them find the author before ‘Stiltskin was able to make use of his power. He really did spend too much time on things like this, time that should be spent on school, or friends, time spent playing video games like a child his age should be. It might be too late, but maybe after this he would get the chance to be a child again, even if whatever was left of his innocence would be truly lost forever. He deserved better than what was about to happen, but that could not be helped.

Regina had hurt Henry before to get what she wanted, and he remembered what she had done to the very man from whom Henry had got his name. He feared even Henry was not safe if she was allowed to live.

He could refuse to say anything and just leave, but Henry was likely to attempt to follow if he thought something was going on that he was being kept out of. And of all the possible ways this could go badly, Henry witnessing it was the worst. Hopefully if he told him at least part of the truth, he would stay here, where it was safe.

“It’s- it’s Regina.” He had never quite been able to bring himself to call her Henry’s mother. She had not earned that title, so instead he called her by name if forced to refer to her. “She did something. She took Belle’s heart, used her against Gold.”

He watched Henry crumple in on himself as his words sunk in and wished there was something he could have done to spare him this pain. He did not deserve any of this, did not deserve to have Regina in his life, to be hurt by her again and again.

“No! She can’t’ve. I‘ve been trying too hard! Ever since we came back, I have been working so hard to keep her good. To keep her from hurting any of us again. She can’t’ve hurt Belle like that.”

Graham felt his heart break. How could they not have realised? They had wanted to let Henry make his own decisions in regards to her but they had had no idea that he had been taking all this on himself. They should have been paying better attention, but there had always been so much going on, and Henry had seemed happy. They should have remembered how good he was at hiding things.

Suddenly Henry bolted forward into his arms and he pulled the boy close, trying to give whatever comfort he could. His next words were stained with tears. “She just can’t.”

“I’m sorry Henry. But that was not your responsibility. It was not your job to keep her good. And if that was not what she wanted to be, it was never going to work.” He knew Henry’s feeling of responsibility for Regina’s behaviour would not be undone so simply, but he spoke firmly, trying to impress his words into the lad. He could feel Henry shaking, knew he was crying, and if his mind had not already been made up, she had earned what was coming to her for this alone.

“You don’t get it! I even told her it was a good thing that Robin could not save Marian. A good thing! I said that. Just to try and make her feel better so she wouldn’t do anything bad.” He had looked up to all but shout those words at him, anger starting to take over from disbelief, but ducked his head again before going on, this time in a voice so small it hurt. “Why wasn’t I enough?”

“Nothing is ever enough for her.” It was not a good answer, and he wished he had a better one, one that would stop him from sounding so broken, but it was all he had. In the end, she always wanted more than she had. “That is not on you. It is not your fault that she could never be happy with what she had, always wanted what someone else had as well.”

He felt Henry pull back slightly, suddenly thoughtful. He could see his brain working to put the pieces together, and he held his breath waiting to see how close to the truth he would get.

“Wait a second, that doesn’t explain why you were here trying to say goodbye without me realising that you were saying goodbye.”

He should have known he would not be able to fool Henry of all people, the lad was at times too perceptive for his own good. He could see as the realisation dawned and braced himself for his reaction.

“You’re going to kill her, aren’t you?” Henry’s voice was strangely flat as he said the words, and he wasn’t quite sure how to interpret it. He didn’t sound angry, as he would have expected him to; if anything, he sounded resigned. Graham nodded, the words caught his throat. And really, what words were there, what could he possible say to make this anything other than what it was? He was planning to murder someone Henry loved. However good his reasons, it would never be defensible, never be forgivable. And even so, he could not regret it.

Maybe he really was the heartless killer they always thought he was.

Henry was staring at him, studying him, and he wondered what he was looking for. Would he try to talk him out of it? Plead for mercy on her behalf like he had before? If only they had not granted it then, they may have saved so much pain. But Henry’s next question caught him by surprise.

“If she was still willing to do that to Belle, what was she planning to do to you and Mom when she found the author?”

Or to Henry himself, he thought. She would have no qualms about having him rewritten to be more compliant. But of course Henry’s first thoughts were for others before himself. Though maybe he had just not thought of that, and if that were so he hoped he never did.

“I didn’t even ask what she was planning. I just jumped straight into helping her. I was so glad she wasn’t doing anything worse that I didn’t think about what she would do, what her ‘happy ending’ would be. She was going to hurt us again and I was helping her.”

Henry’s voice was bordering on manic by the time he finished, almost tripping over his words, and Graham leaned down so he could look him in the eye, gripping him firmly by the shoulders. “This is not your fault. She fooled a lot of people, many with much more reason to distrust her than you. You should not feel bad for believing in someone you loved.”

“But I didn’t really believe in her, did I? If I had believed in her I wouldn’t have been so worried about what she was going to do. If I had believed in her, I wouldn’t believe you. I knew it wasn’t real, deep down, I knew it, but I wanted it so much I let myself believe it.” Henry’s next words were so quiet he almost did not hear them. “If I believed in her, I would be trying to stop you.”

“I wouldn’t let you.” It might seem harsh, but he would not have Henry thinking he could have done something to stop this, and later start blaming himself. He would accept Henry’s resentment, but he would not allow the boy any part of the guilt.

“Why does this hurt so much? She has done such awful things to all of us, to me, to you, to everyone I care about. And she was planning to hurt us more. Why do I still care?” His words were broken by sobs that he tried to swallow, the tears coming thick and fast.

“Because she’s your mother.” And with that he found Henry back in his arms, sobbing in earnest now.

They must have stood there for over ten minutes, him gently running his hand up and down Henry’s back to comfort him as he cried, and shedding some tears of his own. As much as it broke his heart to see Henry in such distress, he was not sure this was not both needed and long overdue. He did not think that Henry had ever allowed himself to react to what Regina had done to him, to grieve, too busy trying to believe she had changed. Letting this grief out might be exactly what was needed for him to move on.

The sobs had faded to the occasional hiccough and sniffle when his phone beeped, the noise jarring in the stillness of the room, causing them both to jump. He had a good idea what the message was and silently cursed the timing. The last thing he wanted was to leave Henry alone just yet. He checked, hoping it was anyone else, but it was indeed Emma telling him they were approaching the edge of town. Looking back at Henry he could see he had guessed what it was as well.

“You have to go.” It may have sounded like a question, but it wasn’t one. Henry straightened up a bit, swallowing and blinking back the last of his tears. “Be careful.”

Henry’s resilience in the face of every horror that was thrown at him would never cease to amaze him. “I should call Ruby, have her come stay with you. I don’t want you here on your own.”

“No! Please don’t. I swear, I am not going to do anything reckless. I just don’t want anyone hovering and asking concerned questions. I just want to be alone.” He gave Henry a long look, trying to judge if he was being truthful, and decided to trust him, nodding in agreement. He knew he would prefer solitude if in a similar position, and could understand Henry not wanting to be faced with any questions, however well meant.

“If you are sure? If you need me for anything, I always have my phone.” He did not have to say it, they both knew he did not just mean today. Regardless of how Emma reacted, he would always be there if Henry needed him.

“I know.” He nodded, understanding what was not being said as much as what was. “Now go.”

He took one last look at Henry, knowing that however accepting he seemed now, he may still never be welcomed back here. The reality might be too much for him to live with. He forced himself to turn around.

Stopping briefly outside the door, he wiped the tears from his face as he tried to focus back on the task at hand. This would take all his attention to get right, he could not afford to leave half his mind back here.

With a deep breath, he got back in the cruiser and started out towards the road out of town.

He pulled to a stop a safe distance from the town line, but did not immediately get out. He stayed there, looking over the deceptively simple painted line that marked the border between their town, their world, and the magicless world they had been brought to. This side of the line she was a powerful witch, capable of swatting away most threats like a fly. But cross a few feet over to the other side and she was just a normal woman, no more able to protect herself from him that any of those she had forced him to kill.

He watched them, Emma’s bug parked on the other side of the line, mirroring him. Emma, Regina, and a dark-haired woman he assumed must be Lily, had apparently decided not to wait in the car, and he wondered if that had anything to do with the woman bound in the back seat. That would make things easier, no need to get her out the car to avoid the additional danger, and mess, of shooting her while she was still inside.

To an outside observer, it might seem like he was hesitating, and in a way, he was, if not for quite the reason someone might expect. He had no doubts about his chosen course of action. It had to be done; he would not let her endanger those he loved. He would not regret her passing, or that it would be by his hand. That was not what kept him this side of the line.

What kept him from doing what he had so easily done in the past, and what he had previously longed to do for many years, was that for the first time in his life he had something to lose.

It would not stop him, but things would not be the same after this. Emma had never really seen this part of him, not because he had hidden it, but because they had never before been in a situation that called for it. There had been many a battle, she knew he would not hesitate to kill in a fight, but there had never been the need to dispose of threat in this way, to kill someone who was not overtly attacking them. He did not know how she would react to being faced with that.

He knew Snow and David would be horrified. But he did not care what they thought of him. He had made his peace with them, but he could never forget that they had been given the opportunity to stop her, to ensure she would never hurt another, and had instead chosen to let her go, to pay no price for her crimes, and to continue to terrorise them all. He had let go of his anger for his own sake, but he would not forget that they could not be trusted when it came to her, that they would not protect their people from her. And he would not care of their judgement when he did what they should.

Movement caught his eye, pulling him from his thoughts and drawing his attention back to the other side of the line. Regina had turned towards Emma, and even if he could not hear her words, he could see the impatience written on her face and body, could guess what she was saying. And he saw the pained look that flashed across Emma’s face, the way her spine stiffened.

He waited for her to bite back, except she didn’t, she just took a breath and responded calmly with a tight smile. He recognised that, he had seen that reaction from her before. It was how she had reacted when Henry used to act up, back just after the curse broke, when he was first testing his boundaries with them, pushing back at them to see if they would snap the way she had. It was the same tamping down of irritation she did back then, because Henry was a child who had been through so much and was still trying to adjust. But Regina was no child, and had earned no such consideration from them; she was the one who should be showing patience in the face of their anger.

Was this what it was always like with them? What Emma always had to do? Swallow her own irritation in the face of Regina’s attitude? They had all been so careful to ensure that he and Regina’s paths so rarely crossed, and people avoided talking about her to him. But he had assumed that she had at least changed how she had treated them, that she was no longer so casually dismissive of anyone’s feelings but her own. That was supposed to have been why they trusted her, because she had changed.

But then again, wasn’t that the entire reason he was doing this, because she hadn’t changed?

He briefly wondered why Emma was putting up with it, before shaking his head. Of course, for the very same reason he had put up with her presence in their lives, for Henry.

He really could not delay anymore, and he did not want to leave Emma facing the brunt of Regina’s anger, presumably over how long he was taking. He quietly stepped out of the cruiser, carefully pushing the door shut. He did not think sound would carry over the town line in this direction, but he did not want to risk them hearing him just yet. He checked his pocket to make sure he had the cuff, and the scroll that would allow them passage back into town. It would not do to get trapped outside with them. And finally, he took a moment to check his gun. He could not afford for this not to go right first time, there were too many things that could go wrong if this turned into a fight.

He moved closer, still invisible to them, and he briefly wondered if he could shoot her from here or if the magic of the town border would interfere. Another man might have taken the chance, taken the opportunity to have no witnesses, for her death to become an unsolved mystery, too many suspects to isolate just one. But that was not him, he would not hide, would not lie about this to Emma or anyone else, would not be ashamed. And he would look her in the eye when he pulled the trigger. One small part of this that would be for him, rather than for them.

He stopped just short of the line, taking a couple of deep breaths, his eyes closed, pushing all thought other than his target from his mind, letting the man recede as the wolf came to the fore. When his eyes opened, he was eerily calm, motionless as his eyes locked on his prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It soon presented itself as she stepped away from the others and started to pace in exasperation.

Without conscious thought, he started moving, crossing the line, his steps quiet and graceful. There was no need for stealth but instinct had taken over. He heard her snapped comment, her tone communicating her sentiment even if he did not discern the words themselves.

Raising his gun, he hesitated for the barest second, just long enough to see the realisation dawn in her eyes, to see her hands twitch ready to call on the magic that did not exist here, before he pulled the trigger, his aim as true with a gun as it had ever been with a bow. She fell to the ground with a quiet thud, dead before she even had a chance to cry out, and he watched as a small pool of blood began to form on the tarmac beneath her.

He found himself transfixed by the sight, unable to tear his eyes away, unable to truly comprehend that it was over, that she was dead. There was a sudden feeling of lightness, as the weight of fear was lifted, a feeling he had lived with so long he only really noticed it as it faded away.

The commotion his actions had caused was nothing more than a buzzing noise as he continued to stare at his monster, the woman who had caused so much pain and fear, now nothing more than a body, all life gone in an instant. It was too quick, decades of suffering should not be so easily ended, but they were.

She was gone.

It took Emma grabbing his shoulder to finally break him out of his trance, and the rest of the world came rushing back in as he turned to look at her, meeting her gaze unapologetically. He stood by his actions, and he would not cower from the consequences.

“What the hell Graham? What was that?” She may not have quite been shouting, but there was the anger he had expected, but not received, from Henry.

“That…was what needed to be done. What we should have done in the first place.” And that was the crux of it; this was something that should have been done before she was even born.

“So, what, you were just pretending to go along with it until you had an opportunity to kill her?” Her scathingly voiced question took him by surprise, it had not actually occurred to him that she would think this was part of some long-held plot to kill her, and he rather hoped that if he had had such a plan it would not have taken him so long to find a way. But it made sense that the woman who found it just as hard to trust people as he did would first jump to the conclusion that he had been lying all this time. “I know what she did, but she was trying to change, she was helping us.”

“No, she wasn’t.” She was the one who had been pretending and biding her time. “She may have been helping when it benefitted her, but she was not trying to change. As long as I believed she was trying, I was willing to stay my hand. I wanted to believe she was changing more than most, for Henry’s sake at least, but she had not changed at all. She had just got better at hiding it.”

“How can you say that? You have barely seen her in years. How can you say she has not been trying, you don’t know.” Her words hurt, even if he knew it was anger fuelling them, prompting her to say things she would not otherwise. But it still hurt to have her deride him for not having been around Regina.

“She took Belle’s heart.” He saw the shock as the words sunk in, saw the disgust that crossed her face as she quickly glanced back at Regina’s body. “That is what she has on ‘Stiltskin.”

“So you thought the best thing to do was kill her?” There wasn’t as much anger in her voice now, but knowing Regina’s crime was not enough for Emma just to accept his actions. She still seemed to struggling to believe what he had done. Had he hidden his true nature from her that much, or had she just not understood that this was who he was?

“Yes.” Maybe not the answer she was looking for or expecting; she probably expected him to start trying to justify himself, or make excuses, but it was the truth, plain and unvarnished. Regina had proved herself to be too much of a danger to be allowed to live, and for him, it was that simple.

“That was not your call.” His blunt response seemed to have thrown her off for a moment, but she was partially right. Really it was her parent’s responsibility, but they had abdicated it too many times. And he, too, had claim to that responsibility.

“It became my call when no one else was willing to make it. I was elected Sheriff of this town, I was trusted to protect the people here. She was a danger, and I dealt with it.”

No-one had been willing to do what was necessary, too scared of the danger, or the reaction of those who should have protected them but had chosen to protect her instead. He had stepped up to do what no-one else could or would do.

“That’s not how it works, we have rules, laws, ways of…” She lifted a hand to stop him from responding. “No, don’t, just don’t right now. I can’t deal with this, deal with you.”

She turned away, using a hand to push her hair back, stopping it briefly at the nape of her neck before she turned back. “I have to get home; did you even think about how I was going to break this to Henry?”

“He already knows. I went to see him before I came here. When I told him what Regina had done he worked out the rest.” He expected another outburst, and she did not disappoint. But he was not going to leave her going home worrying about having to explain everything to Henry. He could at least let her know that she would only have to tell him it was done.

“What! You told him? What the hell were you thinking?” Once again, she cut him off before he could respond. “Don’t bother, clearly you weren’t thinking. Did you at least remember to bring the scroll and cuff?”

He reached into his pocket and silently handed them to her, and he watched as she stomped over to the car, leaning in to put the cuff around Zelena’s wrist.

Emma gestured at the third woman, Lily, he reminded himself, who had remained a few yards away watching their argument. Lily followed the silent instruction with a wary glace at him that he met unflinchingly until she looked away, climbing into the passenger seat. He knew this woman held some animosity towards Emma’s family; let her see how threats to his family were dealt with.

“You.” Emma turned, pointing at him and gesturing vaguely in the direction Regina’s body lay. “You are going to deal with the body. With respect. And since I now need to get home as quickly as possible after getting Lily to Maleficent, you just became responsible for Zelena as well. Think you can manage that without murdering her?”

He nodded in agreement, thinking better of saying anything aloud. It took a little coordination, made harder by the fact Emma would barely look at him, but eventually they were all back over the town line, Zelena handcuffed to the front passenger side door of the cruiser, Regina’s body in the back.

As soon as Zelena was safely secured, Emma was back in her car, door slammed behind her, and she drove off without backwards glance, leaving him to watch her go.

He was not exactly surprised. If anything he had been expecting her to react worse, but however prepared he had thought he was, it did not lessen the pain of being dismissed by her like that.

He had let himself think that he might get to have this, get to be happy. Have a family for the first time since the wolves. Belong somewhere, be wanted.

But instead, the price of protecting his family would almost certainly be to lose them.

Part Two

#gremma #gremma ff #Sheriff Graham #Henry Swan #ouat ff #emma swan #Captain Beauty #(just the tiniest bit)#Anti Regina #Anti Regal Believer #abuse tw #(however the abuse discussion is in support of the victim not the abuser)#no abuse apologism here #gremma appreciation #My fic #fic:she will pay #graham is not a fluffy puppy

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 years ago

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On the Way to the Underworld

Pairing: Gremma (more brotp than anything else) and implied CS

Rating: K

Summary: Canon divergence from 5x12. What if Emma had met up with Graham in that weird dream she had on their way to the Underworld instead of Neal

This story is dedicated to @snowbellewells, since I see from Facebook that it’s your birthday today. Consider this your present (and I still have plans to write your cameo story in the near future!). Happy birthday, friend!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Emma climbed into the weird boat the wraith had brought when Gold opened the portal to the Underworld. (Seriously, what even was her life? She and her whole family were on their way to hell so that she could split her heart in half and bring her true love back to life.)

To say it had been a rough day would be the world’s biggest understatement. She shuddered, barely holding the wracking sobs at bay. Killian was dead. He was dead, and she’s the one who had done it. There was nothing else she could have done, but still, she’d need therapy for the next four decades to get past the feeling of running her true love through with a sword.

As Emma settled into her seat and felt the gentle rocking of the boat (shouldn’t a boat headed to hell be more…tempestuous?), gradually she felt the exhaustion overcome her.

“Sleep, honey,” Mary Margaret said, putting a motherly arm around her and stroking her hair. “While we have a few minutes of peace, sleep.”

She didn’t want to, wanted to spend their downtime planning and strategizing, but as her eyelids became heavier and heavier, she realized she had no choice in the matter….

Emma opened her eyes and found herself in a forest, a babbling creek in front of her, and a warm, gentle breeze caressed her face. The gentle hum of wildlife around her, the singing of the birds, all of it combined to form an idyllic setting.

What the actual hell?

“Emma, it’s been a long time.”

Emma turned abruptly, her eyes going wide. She’d recognize that Irish lilt anywhere.

“Graham?” she asked, seeing the man himself in his jeans, his bomber jacket, his sheriff’s badge prominently displayed on his chest. “What? How? Is this a dream?”

He stepped forward and cupped her face in his hand, caressed it gently and smiled. “This is no dream, Emma, although you might say you’re in an altered state of reality.”

“Are you in the Underworld?” Emma asked. “Have we arrived?”

He shook his head gently and dropped his hand. “No on both counts. You and your family continue sailing. It will be a few minutes yet before you reach your destination. And as for me?” He looked around, and Emma saw a deer step up to the stream and begin drinking, “I’ve moved on.”

“Moved…on?” Emma asked. “On to where?”

He led her to a fallen log and gestured for her to sit. When she’d done so, he spoke again. “It’s rather difficult to answer that question. Suffice it to say, I have no remaining unfinished business and so I’m at peace.”

They were silent for a moment, and then Emma turned back toward him, feeling the guilt that plagued her every time she thought of the former sheriff of Storybrooke. “Graham,” she said finally, “I…I didn’t get a chance to say this to you before…I mean it all happened so fast. I just…I wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

He shot her a startled look. “Whatever for, Emma?”

“For this,” she said, “for getting you killed. “If I’d just left well enough alone, not butted into your whole weird deal with Regina, maybe you’d still be alive.”

Graham turned toward her, looking intently into her eyes. “Is that what you think, Emma? That you harmed me? That you caused me pain?” He shook his head. “Nothing could be farther from the truth. Emma, you saved me. You gave me courage to break free and you helped me remember who I truly was and who I wanted to be. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

“Really?” Emma asked. “That’s really how you think of our friendship?”

He smiled. “Of course! And look around you. I’ve reached paradise, a land where there’s no fear, no loneliness, no pain, no villains. Just joy and peace and freedom as far as the eye can see. Don’t trouble yourself on my account. I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

Emma felt the tears well up, glad to have an opportunity to cry for a happy reason for a change.

“I know where you’re headed, Emma,” Graham said, looking suddenly grave. “You wish to save your love from Hades’ clutches.”

Emma felt the panic well up again thinking of what Killian might be enduring. “I have to Graham! It’s my fault he’s dead, and then Gold took away his self-sacrifice. I can’t just leave him there. I can’t!”

“Sh,” Graham said, smiling gently once again. “I’m not asking you to, Emma. It’s quite the noble thing you’re doing and I wish you the greatest success.”

“But?” Emma asked, seeing the reservation in his face.

“The Underworld is a dangerous place,” Graham said. “Hades has all sorts of horrors prepared for the people in his domain, and he won’t give up one of his souls easily.”

“Never expected it to be easy,” Emma said, “but he’s my True Love. If there’s anything I can do to save him, anything, I have to do it.”

“And I would never suggest otherwise,” Graham said. “I’ve no doubt Hades has met his match in you. All I ask is that you be careful. I’d love to see you here again one day, but I’d rather it not be anytime soon.”

“That I can promise you.”

Emma woke abruptly and sat up in the boat, disoriented in the sudden reddish light.

“You okay, mom?” Henry asked, looking over her carefully.

“Yeah,” Emma said, running a hand through her hair. “I have a feeling that we are all going to be just fine. Now let’s go rescue a pirate!”

#gremma ff #cs ff #ouat canon divergence #5x12 canon divergence

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emmaxjones · 8 years ago

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Dead at Heart (8/?)

Summary: When women start being murdered in her small hometown of Bon Temps, Sheriff Emma Swan seeks help from an unlikely ally: Killian Jones, a 300-year-old vampire who owns a pirate themed bar in Shreveport. Captain Swan meets True Blood. Not necessary to have watched True Blood.

chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

read on: ao3 || ff.net

Chapter 8 - Dead or Alive

Emma waited about an hour after sunset to call Graham. She felt childishly nervous as she listened to the phone ring, like she was a middle school girl calling her crush. There was honestly no need for her to be nervous since this call would be more business than pleasure, but still; this would be her first time talking to her handsome vampire friend since he'd left her last night. Her feelings for him were all over the place at this point, but she knew she wanted to pursue whatever it was between them.

"Emma," Graham's voice came finally.

"Hi," she said, somewhat timidly. "Uh, how are you?"

Graham chuckled lowly, which relaxed her a bit. "Very well, and you?"

"Well, I've had better days," she told him. "I'm actually calling because I need your help."

"An all too familiar phrase," he quipped. "I'll be right over."

Emma opened her mouth to tell him there was no need to rush, but she heard the tell tale beeps that meant he'd already hung up.

"Is Graham gonna help you with Operation Exorcist?" came Henry's voice from behind her.

She turned to find him innocently chomping down on an apple. "Operation Exorcist?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"You and Aunt Ruby weren't exactly quiet when you came back to the diner, Mom," he told her, shrugging. "Just because I had my comic book open, doesn't mean I was actually reading it."

"Hmm, noted," Emma said, shaking her head in amusement. "And yeah, hopefully Graham will be able to help me with Belle. I figure, who better to help with a supernatural problem than a supernatural person?"

Henry nodded. "Makes sense." The doorbell rang and his eyes lit up. "I'll get it!"

Emma panicked for a moment, running her hands over her hair to make sure it was behaving. She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the mantle place though and stopped, rolling her eyes at how ridiculous she was being. She followed after Henry who was letting Graham through the front door.

Her mouth went a little dry at the night of him, though he hardly looked different from the day before. Maybe it was the simmering desire in his eyes that she could see clear across the room.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Good evening," he responded, and they stood there for a moment just looking at each other before Henry reminded them that he was still there.

"Sooo," he said, looking between them with a grin on his face, "I'm just gonna head to my room. Homework and stuff."

"Okay," Emma replied, though she knew he had no homework since he hadn't gone to school that day.

Once they both heard his bedroom door close, they surged towards each other, mouths colliding and hands grasping. His cool lips felt wonderful against her heated ones, and she lost herself in the kiss for a minute.

Finally, they pulled away, and she smiled at him. "Hi again."

His echoing smile was a little fangy. "I could get used to being greeted like that."

Emma led him into the living room, sitting on the couch and pulling him down next to her.

"So, you mentioned needing my help," Graham said.

Emma nodded. "I think Belle French might be possessed."

Graham looked non-plussed. "Well, her husband was a demon, so it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility."

Emma quickly explained to him what had happened that day, how Belle was acting completely unlike herself, and what she'd seen outside of the diner earlier that night.

"Sounds like possession to me," Graham agreed when she'd finished. "Normally though, the demon's spell would be broken with his death."

"So, what does that mean?" Emma asked. "Is it permanent?"

"I don't think so," he said, albeit hesitantly. "It's possible that Gold kept Belle in his thrall using a particular object, like a talisman, and until that talisman is destroyed, she'll remain under his spell."

"Okay, so then all we have to do is find the object," Emma said. She stood up. "So, let's go."

Graham looked up at her in surprise. "What, right now?"

"No time like the present," she told him.

Graham stood up as well, smiling fondly at her. "Emma Swan, woman of action," he said. "I assume you have some sort of plan?"

"Well…" She'd really just intended to make it up as she went along.

"She might not, but I do," came Henry's voice, and they both whipped around to look at him.

"Seriously, kid?" Emma groaned.

In true Swan form, he shrugged, smiling innocently. "Do you want to hear my plan or not?"

Emma narrowed her eyes at him speculatively before caving. "Alright, cough it up."

"Well, if you need to search Belle's house for the object, you're going to need her out of it, and for that, you'll need a distraction."

"That seems like a lot of work when I could just glamour her," Graham pointed out.

"No," Emma said instantly. "No glamouring. She's already being mind controlled or whatever, we don't need to add to that." She turned back to Henry. "Let me guess, you already have a distraction in mind?"

Henry nodded. "You're not going to like it, though."

"Wonderful."

"I don't like this," Emma muttered, scanning the deserted street in front of her.

"I told you," Henry said from the back seat of her squad car.

"Tricking my own officers, though, it feels so wrong," Emma continued, letting her head slump against the window.

"It's the only surefire way," her son reasoned. "You want to help Belle, don't you?"

"Of course," Emma sighed. If this worked, not only would she have her friend back, but she hopefully wouldn't be getting sued anymore.

The scanner in the patrol car burst to life suddenly, causing Emma to sit up straight again.

"We have a possible robbery in progress at 270 Main Street," the dispatcher reported. "I repeat, a 211 at 270 Main Street."

After a moment, Freddy's voice came over the scanner. "Copy that, Officer Fa and I are en route."

Emma almost whimpered, feeling like the worst sheriff in the world. Here she was staging a fake break in, while trying to commit a real one. Maybe she did deserve to lose her badge.

A couple of minutes later, Graham appeared at the passenger door to her car. She unlocked the door and he got in.

"Anything?" he asked.

"They're on their way to the pawn shop now," Emma told him. "What'd you do?"

"Broke in the front door, moved a few things around," Graham said. "I moved fast enough that any cameras would just record a dark blur."

"Good," she said, hands gripping the steering wheel. "Now we wait."

Sure enough, about 15 minutes later, they saw Belle's car pull out of the French's driveway, which they were parked 2 houses down from. She turned in the opposite direction from them, heading towards town, and she and Henry breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Alright, here we go," Emma said. She turned to Henry. "Are you going to okay here, kid?"

"Yes, Mom," he answered, with just a touch of exasperation. "Someone's got to be the lookout."

Emma frowned deeply but nodded and handed him her spare walkie talkie, tucking the other into her coat pocket. "Channel 5, okay?"

"Roger," Henry said, smiling. She never seen him so excited. "Operation Horucrux is a go."

Emma paused. "I thought it was Operation Exorcist?"

Henry shook his head. "Operation Horucrux seems more fitting now."

"Emma, we don't have much time," Graham warned her gently.

"Right," she said, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Let's go."

They left the car with one last reassuring nod from Henry and headed towards the French's house. They lived in the nicest part of town, the classic three-story antebellum putting Emma's single-level ranch style to shame. Part of her had always wondered where Mr. French had gotten the money for such a house, since the pawn shop hardly seemed like a gold mine. Her eyes narrowed as they crept up the driveway. Her rent was definitely higher than it should be, maybe Gold had been overcharging everyone in town. Now that she thought about it, who was her landlord now that he was dead? Was it Belle? If so, she was probably lucky not to have been evicted in addition to being sued.

At the front door, Emma took out a bobby pin and began working on the lock.

"Done this a lot, have you?" Graham asked. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

"You'd be surprised," Emma said lightly. She gritted her teeth as she fiddled with the tumblers. "Almost got it...ah ha!"

The lock clicked open and Emma turned the knob, pushing the door open. She entered the house first, Graham following after her and closing the door behind them. The sheer magnitude of what they had to do swept over her as she took in the large foyer and grand staircase. Looking for a needle in a haystack would probably be easier.

"Where do we even start?" Emma asked. "What should we be looking for?"

"It will be an object of some sentimental value, I believe," Graham told her. "Something Belle would see and interact with everyday, so it would be in a prominent part of their home."

"Okay, let's start in their bedroom," Emma suggested, and they quickly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

"How will you even know if we've found it?" Emma asked as they started searching the bedroom. It could be anything in here, couldn't it?

"Well," Graham said in such a way that made Emma stop inspecting Belle's jewelry box and turn to look at him. He grimaced and she gave him an expectant look. "I thought that maybe you would be able to tell. With your powers."

Emma blinked at him. "With 'my powers?'" she repeated. "What do you want me to do, 'Use the Force?' Who do I look like, Luke Skywalker?"

If he didn't think he was too dignified for it, she knew Graham would have rolled his eyes. "Emma," he said. "You have a raw power inside of you that has been untapped until now. Yesterday, it saved your life and your son's. I know if you try, you can do this."

Emma sighed. She'd been trying really hard not to think about her "powers", especially after yesterday, but Graham's words made sense. "Fine, I'll give it a shot."

She breathed deeply in and out and shut her eyes. She could feel Graham staring at her and blocked that out too, focusing instead on the buzzing of energy that she had felt inside of her for as long as she could remember. As a child, she had tuned out the buzzing until it was only a dull white noise. It had never been magic to her, only a nuisance, something that made her different from everyone around her when all she'd wanted to do was fit in. How did she access it now after so many years of forcing it down?

Emma focused her senses completely, and was surprised to find a tendril of magic easily. It seemed to branch away from her, and Emma mentally followed it, thinking it would lead her to Gold's talisman, but it brought her in a completely different direction. She saw Killian's prone form, laying on a bed in a dark room, glowing slightly as all vampires did in Emma's eyes. He appeared to be only slightly better than when she'd him the night before. Most of his burns were healed, but the lacerations from Gold's silver sword were still visible.

Suddenly, Killian's blue eyes popped open, as if he could sense her, and, startled, Emma severed the connection, opening her own eyes.

Graham was looking at her in concern. "Are you well?"

"Yeah, fine," she said shakily. She shook her head to clear away Killian's face from her mind. The last thing she needed right now was a distraction. The clock was ticking. "Let me try again."

She found her magic much quicker this time and focused it on the room. A feeling of coldness seemed to emanate from it, and she shivered involuntarily.

"If I understand it correctly, all magic leaves some sort of trace," Graham said quietly as not to break her concentration. "Can you feel it?"

"I think so," Emma said. It was a bit dull, but she could feel the magic in the air. Something burned brightly with magic though, just outside her periphery. She opened her eyes. "The talisman's not up here. But I think I know where it is."

Emma led the way out of the room and down the stairs to the first floor. The talisman was somewhere down here. They walked through the living room, but nothing stuck out to her there or in the dining room. Finally, her instincts took her to the kitchen, where she stopped, gazing around at the pristine granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.

"It's here," she announced confidently. The magic felt so strong in the room that the hair on her arms was standing up. "Let's spread out."

Graham started at one end and Emma at the other, the latter doing her best to hone in on the object. It kind of felt like she was playing hot and cold but her magic kept going in and out. She needed to focus. Taking a deep breath, she cast her gaze over the kitchen, feeling the clear pull of magic to the cabinet about the stove. She walked towards it and was just about to pull it open, when her walkie talkie crackled to life.

Henry's voice came over the radio, but so garbled that she had no idea what he'd said. Her and Graham exchanged uneasy glances before Emma brought the radio up to her mouth.

"Henry, repeat that, over."

His voice came again, just as distorted, and Emma shook her head in frustration. "There must be some kind of interference."

"Magic perhaps," Graham suggested. "Emma, we should get out of here. He was probably trying to warn us that Belle was back."

"But it's right here, I can feel it," Emma said stubbornly. They'd come this far. She wasn't leaving until the talisman was destroyed. She reached for the cabinet handle and pulled it open.

"Emma, I can hear her," Graham warned behind her. "She just got out of her car. I can still glamour her."

"No," Emma said firmly, jerking back to make sure he saw how serious she was. "I told you: no glamour."

Turning back to the cabinet, she felt her pulse quicken as her ears strained to pick up Belle's footsteps coming up the walkway or her keys in the door. The cupboard was full of regular china; plates, glasses, and tea kettles. And nestled right in the middle of them all and practically glowing was a chipped tea cup.

"Look!" Emma said, pointing to the tea cup. "Do you see that?"

"See what?" Graham asked, peering into the cabinet. His attention shifted between her and the foyer rapidly. "Emma, she's coming inside."

"This is it," Emma told him, eagerly. "The tea cup! It's glowing! That's the talisman, that's what's controlling Belle!"

She picked it up and almost immediately dropped it. A sensation like an egg being cracked over her head crept all over her body, from her fingers to her toes. This was magic, but not the light, buzzy kind that flowed through her. This was dark and seemed to seep everywhere like sludge, and she had to struggle to keep her grip on the tea cup. Vaguely, she could hear Graham hissing her name, his fangs out at her failure to respond.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?!"

The question, uttered with the utmost hatred and shock, finally broke through the fog that threatened to engulf her, and she looked up to find a livid Belle standing in the entrance to the kitchen.

"I, Belle, I can explain," Emma started, but Belle had already spied what Emma was holding in her hand.

"Don't touch that!" she exclaimed, starting towards Emma. Her eyes were transformed until they were black again as she lunged towards Emma. "How dare you!"

Graham intercepted her, wrapping his arms around the petite librarian's torso. Belle screeched and struggled, but was no match for his vampire strength.

"Don't hurt her," Emma urged him, even as the woman cursed at her.

"I should have known you would stoop so low, Emma Swan," she said, her voice shrill and almost unrecognizable. "You may have this whole town fooled, but once a criminal, always a criminal, right?"

"This isn't you, Belle," Emma told her, trying to ignore the tears forming in her eyes at her friend's harsh words. "Your husband has you under some kind of spell!"

"My husband loved me, but what would you know of love?" Belle spat at her, still struggling against Graham's grip. "You're nothing but a friendless orphan, and that's all you'll ever be."

A tear made it's way down Emma's cheek, but her mind was clear and determined. "You're wrong, Belle," she said calmly. "And this ends now."

Emma would never forget the scream Belle let out as she winded back and threw the chipped tea cup with all of her strength against the tiled floor. The cup shattered, and the impact knocked all three of them off of their feet. Emma's head was ringing, but when it cleared, the trace of dark magic permeating through the room was completely gone. Strong arms suddenly helped her up, and she looked up into Graham's concerned face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, as she got to her feet.

"I'm fine," Emma said. A groan came from across the kitchen, and she saw Belle on the floor pressing her hand to her forehead.

"Belle?" she asked hesitantly, moving closer, but still keeping her distance.

Her friend looked up at her, and her beautiful face crumpled in despair. Her eyes were their usual shade of brown, no red or black, and they were filled with tears.

"Oh, Emma, I'm so sorry," Belle choked out.

That was all it took for Emma to rush to her side, enfolding the other woman into her arms. Belle's whole body shook with sobs as Emma whispered words of comfort and forgiveness to her, almost crying in relief herself.

Her friend was back.

The following days were a bit of a blur for Emma. Eventually, Belle settled down enough, and Emma had the unfortunate task of explaining to her that her husband had been a demon. The dark haired beauty didn't take the news very well, but both Emma and Ruby were there to support her. Belle had retracted her law suite, for which Emma was very grateful. The media about had a conniption over the sudden 180 flip of the grieving widow, but no one reacted worse than Albert Spencer who stormed into the bullpen at the Sheriff's Station the moment he heard.

"What have you done?" he demanded the moment he saw Emma.

Emma smiled. "Hi, how are you?" she asked with false cheer. "Nice weather we're having today, isn't it?"

The man only glared at her. "Don't play games with me, young lady," he practically hissed. "You had no right to speak to my client, but Belle just told me she's dropping the suite. I know you spoke to her. Pressured her to change her mind somehow."

Emma said nothing, only kept her smile, it might have become more of a smirk, planted on her face.

Spencer's eyes narrowed further and he shook a finger in her face. "This isn't over."

He spun on his expensive Italian shoes and left. Emma smiled and waved. "Bye, now!"

She probably should have been worried about what he was going to do, but she was too relieved that it was all over to care. Granny's murderer could no longer hurt anyone, her friends and son were all safe as was the town that she'd sworn to protect. There was only one thing that was bugging her, and try as she might, she couldn't get her mind off of it.

A few days after she'd broken the spell on Belle, she found herself driving down the highway to Shreveport. Henry was having a sleepover at Nicholas and Ava's house, so she had the night to herself. Realistically, she knew that Killian might not even be recovered enough to be at the Dead Man's Chest, but something told her, she refused to believe it was their 'bond', that he would be there.

When she arrived, Emma was carded at the door by a vampire she didn't know. The hour was still early, so the crowd was on the campy side, but Emma ignored the tourists taking pictures and focused her attention on the vampire sitting on the stage. Killian, though pale as ever, looked much better than when she'd gotten a flash of him the other night. He was wearing the same pirate getup he'd been wearing the night they'd first met, and she only had a moment to appreciate the way the black leather hugged his body, before his eyes zeroed in on her.

They shared a inscrutable look across the bar before he was suddenly in front of her, sweeping her into his arms and rushing them into his office in a matter of seconds. Her back hit the door of his office with a thud, and she looked up to find him gazing down at her in awe.

"Swan."

"Hi," she said breathlessly, too stunned to protest his actions.

"You saved me," he whispered, inching closer.

"You saved me first," Emma reminded him, remembering the way he'd risen from the ground to come to their rescue. "Thank you."

Killian drew back a little at that, scratching behind his ear almost self consciously, she thought, like the praise had made him shy. He bounced back a second later, using the same finger to tap his lips, drawing her attention to them.

"Well, perhaps, gratitude is in order," he said, throwing her a lascivious look.

Emma grinned. "Yeah, that's what the thank you was for."

"Is that truly all you and your son's lives are worth?" he asked, his tone playful.

Emma shook her head, and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Please, you couldn't handle it."

"Perhaps, you're the one that couldn't handle it," Killian countered, arching an eyebrow at her.

Emma didn't know what came over her, but one second she was looking at his smirk and thinking she'd like to wipe it from his face, and the next she was grabbing the collar of his ridiculous pirate coat and hauling him to her. Their lips crashed together, mouths open, tongues battling for dominance. She felt his hand in her hair, and she let out a breathy sigh, pulling him closer, wanting to feel his cool skin against her own. How could someone who was dead make her feel so alive? Was it like this with Graham? She couldn't remember.

Suddenly, she felt like she'd been doused with ice. Graham.

Emma pulled away from Killian, though he followed her, their foreheads still touching. He wasn't breathing hard like she was, but his fangs were down, and he looked thunderstruck, his eyes still closed.

"That was—" he breathed.

"A one time thing," she interrupted, causing him to pull back and open his eyes. They were clouded with confusion, and his expression was almost hurt. She needed to get out of there right away. "I have to go. Don't follow me."

"As you wish," he said, and she avoided his gaze as she slipped out of the door and back into the hallway.

She berated herself the whole drive back to Bon Temps. What had she been thinking, going to The Dead Man's Chest like that? If she'd wanted to make sure Killian was okay, she could have just called the bar. Over the phone he couldn't smolder at her with his too blue eyes and she didn't have to see his stupid kissable pink lips.

It was the blood bond most likely, she reasoned. The bond had drawn her to the bar, to him. Graham had said Killian would be able to feel her emotions, so no doubt, he knew exactly what she was feeling right now as she fled from Shreveport. The thought made her bang her hand on the steering wheel in frustration.

When Emma got to Main Street in Bon Temps, she made a quick decision. Instead of taking the turn to her house, she followed the road to the outskirts of town and found herself pulling into Graham's driveway. She'd never been inside his house before, but she had dropped him off a couple of times, so she'd known where he lived.

Shutting the engine off, she sat there for a moment. Despite the fact that he'd probably heard her pull up, Graham didn't meet her outside. He was waiting on her, of course, letting her decide what she wanted to do, and after a minute, she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the bug. The front door opened just as she arrived at it, and Graham greeted her with a smile.

"Emma, I didn't know you were—"

"Kiss me," Emma interrupted him, stepping into his body and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Graham's brow furrowed in confusion. He inhaled suddenly, and his body went rigid, his expression clouding over with anger.

"You've been with Killian," he stated, his fangs dropping down. "I can smell him all over you."

Damn vampire senses, Emma cursed mentally. She sighed and let her arms fall back to her sides. "I went to see him, to make sure he was okay," Emma admitted. "We kissed, but it didn't mean anything."

"And now you want me to, what?" Graham scoffed. "Make you forget him?"

"No!" Emma protested, before immediately backtracking. "Yes? Maybe. I don't know! All I know is I can't myself around him. Are my feelings real or are they just a side effect of the bond?" She took a chance and took his hands in hers. "But I can and I do trust my feelings for you, Graham. You're the one I want to be with."

"Truly?" he asked, and she couldn't blame him for being hesitant.

"Yes," she stressed. "Now, kiss me."

He drew her to him, wrapping both hands around her waist, and their lips met, a bit roughly at first, but gradually their kiss transformed into something more tender, but no less passionate. Graham pulled her inside, shutting the door behind them, never breaking their embrace as he pressed her back into the door. It reminded her too much of her moment with Killian though and she pulled back from him.

"Bedroom," she gasped out.

He suckled his way down her neck, lingering at her pulse point before picking her up and zipping them into his bedroom. Once she was back on her feet, his presence left her for a moment, and pricks of light appeared around the light tight room as several candles were lit. Emma took a moment to strip off her leather jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair, and toeing off her boots. Graham came back to her after a moment, his face awash in light and dark thanks to the glow of the candles. Cupping her face with both hands, he searched her eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said after a moment, and Emma had a feeling he wasn't just talking about sex.

"I'm not easily broken," Emma assured him, pulling him back to her and pressing her lips to his once again.

Her hands moved to unbutton his vest and pushed it off his shoulders. Eagerly, she pulled his button down out of his pants and started unbuttoning that as well. Her mouth sucked on his bottom lip, and he groaned when she raked her nails down his bare chest. He moved quicker now, making short work of Emma's shirt and pants before tossing her with ease onto the bed. He stared down at her with pure want in his eyes, as well as a perfectly sized bulge in his pants.

"You're so beautiful," he told her, and she felt the trail his gaze left over every inch of her body. He looked like he wanted to devour her every piece of her, and there was nothing Emma wanted more.

She crooked a finger at him. "Get up here," she ordered. "And take off your pants."

Graham gave her a fangy smile before complying. He crawled up the bed, stopping to kiss his way up her legs. She squirmed, close to pushing his face right where she wanted it, between her thighs, but let him do as he wished. He paused where she was aching and wet with arousal and breathed deeply. Giving her a sinful grin, he placed a kiss on her over her underwear before moving on.

Up he went across her body, kissing and caressing her lace clad breasts, and she reveled in the attention, needing more. Her bra came off with a flick of her fingers, and she shivered with pleasure as his mouth and tongue encircled one of her nipples. She could feel him hard against her and moved her thigh to rub against him. He growled, lips descending on hers once again.

Emma's legs opened to cradle his body with hers, and Graham took the opportunity to snake his hand downwards, fingers sliding underneath her panties. She gasped as he easily slid a finger inside of her, and he laughed against her lips.

"I've wanted to do this for some time, Emma," he said, inserting a second finger and moving them in and out at a languid pace.

"Me too," she breathed, pushing off Graham's boxers with her foot until he was gloriously bare. "Please, Graham."

"What do you need?" he asked her, rubbing his thumb against her sensitive clit. "Tell me what you need."

"You," she gasped, writhing against his fingers. "I only need you, please."

Graham removed his fingers from inside her, ignoring her whine of protest, and hooked them around her underwear, dragging them down her legs and throwing them somewhere off to the side. Settling his weight between her legs, he grasped himself in hand and lined his cock up to her entrance. He sought her gaze one last time, and she gave him a fervent nod. He pushed forward, and she took him inside her inch by inch, one hand digging into his bicep, the other grasping the sheets.

Finally, he was sheathed all the way inside her, and the sensation of his cold hardness inside of her heated center was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. He stopped to let her adjust, but she wasn't some blushing virgin, and instead, urged him on, wrapping her arms around his back.

Taking her hint, he began thrusting in and out, and the drag of him along her walls had her digging her fingers into his skin. Their pace became faster and faster, and Graham's hands and lips were everywhere all at once, caressing and pulling and suckling. The combined sensations threatened to overwhelm her, and sooner than Emma had thought possible, he was coaxing her through her first orgasm, her whole body spasming.

He didn't let up though, continuing to pound into her, the sound of their skin slapping against each other quickening as his thrusts did.

"You are mine, Emma," he grunted out, curling her leg around his hips, and the new angle driving him even deeper inside of her.

"Yes," she gasped, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he hit that special spot that made her see stars.

"Say it," he urged her, wrapping his arms around her lower back and lifting her off the bed, so he was fucking her in the air.

"I'm yours!" Emma cried out, so close to reaching her peak again that she would have said anything to make sure he didn't stop. "Only yours. Please."

He gave her a bruising kiss before burying his face in her neck, and Emma could feel the tiny pinpricks of his fangs against the delicate skin there.

"Emma, I—," he started, still thrusting up into her.

"Do it," she interrupted hastily, before she lost her nerve. "Bite me." He pulled back from her, a longing, though hesitant, look on his face. Keeping one arm anchored around his neck, she cupped the side of his face with the other. "I trust you, Graham."

Her back hit his firm mattress again, as he lowered them back onto the bed without losing his rhythm. She could feel her orgasm building within her, and it hit her all at once as he sunk his fangs deep into her neck. It was painful for only a moment as pleasure swept through her, radiating out from her center. Even the pull of him sucking her blood was somehow erotic, and the abounding sensations made her cry out in ecstasy.

She felt Graham come undone as well, taking her blood seeming to be the trigger for his own climax. His hips continued to thrust for several moments before stopped and pulled out, though he continued to feed voraciously from her neck.

"Graham?" she asked hesitantly, though she was starting to feel a little lightheaded as she came down from her high; whether from the extreme pleasure or the blood loss, she wasn't sure.

He pulled back to look at her, fangs still down, blood, her blood, smeared all over his mouth. His face was flushed as she'd never seen it, and his eyes had taken on a dreamy expression.

"Your blood, Emma," he said, shaking his head as though in a daze. "It's—"

"Intoxicating, I've heard," she said dryly, smoothing down her wild hair. Honestly, these vampires were like a broken record.

"Well, yes," Graham admitted, eyes shifting to her neck, which she was sure was a mess. Finally, they met hers again, serious now. "In all my years, I've never tasted anything like your blood before."

A trickle of fear went through her. "What does that mean?"

He stared down at her for a moment before shaking his head. "Nothing," he told her. "It means, nothing."

And Emma didn't need her superpower to know he was lying to her.

Using his tongue, he licked up the last remains of blood around her neck before scooping her body up effortlessly and sliding her underneath the covers. He left her side for just a moment, and when he came back, his face was clean and his fangs were retracted. Sliding under the sheets with her, Graham wrapped an arm around her, hugging her to his side. Emma rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on top of his chest. The absence of a heart beat was a little unnerving, but she'd just had sex with a vampire who had sucked her blood; at this point, his dead heart should have been the least startling factor.

"I will protect you, Emma," Graham said suddenly, causing her to pick up her head to look at him. "You are mine, now. No other vampire can touch you or feed off of you without my consent."

"Without your consent?" she asked incredulously, sitting up all the way now. "And what about my consent?"

"Most non-mainstreaming vampires could care less about getting consent from the human they've chosen as their meal," Graham pointed out, sitting up as well. "By claiming you, I can protect you in an official capacity that is recognized by all vampires."

The more he spoke, the more uneasy Emma became. "I'm my own person, Graham," she told him firmly. "If this is about becoming your property or whatever, I'm out."

She moved to get off the bed, but he pulled her back to him gently. "Emma," he chided, smiling at her in that fond way he did. "That's not what it's about. This world, this supernatural world you've become a part of, is a lot bigger than you realize. All I want to do is be with you, Emma, you and Henry, and protect the both of you. If you'll let me."

Emma searched his eyes for an ulterior motive but found none, and since her superpower didn't work on vampires, she needed to trust her instincts. Graham had been by her side, helping and encouraging her through everything the last few months. Besides Ruby, there was probably no one she trusted more. Was she really going to throw that away because of some old-fashioned vampire bullshit? No.

"Okay."

Graham nodded, clearly pleased, and resettled them back down on the bed. She nestled her face comfortably into the crook of his neck.

"We really need to work on your pillow talk, though."

An overwhelming amount of townsfolk showed up for Rupert Gold's funeral when it was held two days later. Whether it was to discern for themselves if Belle and Emma had truly made up or they wanted to see what name was going to be on the tombstone, Emma wasn't sure. She was there for only one reason, though, and that was to support Belle.

Though she understood that she had been in her husband's thrall, Belle insisted it hadn't always been like that. They had been in love when they married, Gold taking Belle's last name because he had said he'd wanted to start over after the loss of his first wife. But in the past couple of years, and shortly after the vampire's Great Revelation, Belle started noticing her husband's strange behavior, and when she'd wanted out of their marriage, that's when he had put her under his power.

It was a very simple ceremony and the only tears that were shed were Belle's. No one gave a eulogy or spoke any kind words about Gold, and the pastor only read a short psalm as the casket was lowered into the fresh grave site; thankfully as far away from Granny's as possible. Emma couldn't imagine a stranger funeral, but it was what Belle had wanted. Afterwards, many guests came and gave their condolences to Belle, their eyes shifting curiously to Emma who remained firmly by her side.

She was keeping an eye on Henry nearby talking animatedly with a couple of kids from school, when she spied a figure standing just in front of the grave. He was about her height, maybe a little taller, with scruffy brown hair, and her heart almost stopped beating in her chest.

"Excuse me," Emma said quietly to Belle, not taking her eyes off the man.

She walked through the rows of chairs up to where he stood, her heart now pounding loudly in her ears. He must have heard her approaching through the grass because he was hastily wiping tears away from his face. When he turned to her and she saw his face for the first time in almost 11 years, she couldn't help her gasp.

"Neal?"

TBC

tagging @kmomof4 caused she asked and @niniadepapa cause I know she likes this story :)

#cs ff #gremma ff #ouat ff #emma swan #cs mc ff #captain swan #gremma #my fics #please read and reblog :))))#only two days later than i said it would be #please forgive me lol

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kmomof4 · 7 years ago

Note

Oh sooooo much this!!!

what's going on with graham?

well, a&e said that they had wanted jamie to be in the finale but couldn’t because he had been filming 50shades of crap; but promised that once the finale aired, they’d tell what they had been thinking for his appearance.

alas, i have my own headcanon lalalalala sorry not sorry

(so this is mostly gremma but also a bit of captain swan but yeah gremma GREMMA)

——————

She didn’t know if the guards had actually indulged themselves before the ball or if the fairytale clichés that everybody snorted at while watching Disney movies were actually true in the Enchanted Forest but, as she was being led to the dungeons after her run in with Regina - no, wait, the Evil Queen, that woman made the mayor look like a golden retriever puppy - Emma had already lifted off the keys that had been dangling from the pocket of the one at her right when someone called behind them.

“Stop.”

She froze, the men at her sides mimicking her and turning their heads to see who had interrupted their trek. She didn’t need to, though - she had stopped in her tracks for both reasons; obeying the voice’s order and because she knew who it was; had only needed to hear one word and the lilting accent in which it had been said to do so.

Graham.

Keep reading

#gremma ff #cs ff #ouat ff #nini writes

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gremma-appreciation · 7 years ago

Note

Are there any angsty Gremma fics you recommend?

Oooh, angst. There are plenty of angst-fics out there.

These are all no-resolution angst, and I know I have more but to get you started ...:

if you fall (then I’ll fall too) by @elaric. Ghost fic.

Ties That Bind by la lisboa. Shoelace fic.

Untitled by @alxvse. 3B finale fic.

#gremma #gremma ff #Anonymous #kristy answers stuff

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gremmaistruelove · 6 years ago

Text

The Princess And Her Huntsman

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: Gen

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Relationship: Huntsman | Sheriff Graham/Emma Swan

Characters: Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Huntsman | Sheriff Graham, Emma Swan

Additional Tags: Gremma, Princess Emma Swan, Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest

Language: English

Words: 1324

Chapters: 1/?

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17025228/chapters/40028352

#gremma #gremma fanfiction #graham x emma #emma x graham #gremma ff #my fanfiction

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swanisms · 10 years ago

Note

Emma/Graham and 5 please? Thank you :3

Hear your voice oftreason

Don’twaste your time on me, you’re already the voice inside my head. 3.21-3.22 Canon Divergent AU. gremma + things you didn't say atall

How she escaped the castle shedidn't know, but she'd save the questions for when she was a safe distance awayfrom her evil majesty Regina and her murderous rage. Emma had been on thereceiving end of that insanity one too many times to risk it again.

She hoped Killian caught up to hersoon. He had followed her across worlds and through time itself. A forest waseasy work.

At least for him. The same could notbe said for Emma, in her red ball gown with the rib-shrinking corset.

Half an hour or more of running and stumbling over roots andovergrown bushes passed. The run turned her legs to jelly and shriveled herlungs. She had to stop to collect her breath and relieve the burn in herthighs. In the middle of the dark Enchanted Forest, she heaved and shook, waitingfor Killian to find her.

Loud rattling breath after rattling breath came, but stillshe heard the crack of dry wood behind her. Emma didn't call out Killian's namefor fear that one of Regina's guards would catch her instead.

She might as well have screamed for the silence hit her in atackle that took her down and drove her face in the mud. It was a worse fatethat greeted her than any guard of Regina could be.

The man that dragged her up and pinned her to the tree was aghost.

He had to be because she'd held his dead body in her armsand cried for long minutes that passed like years that would never be until shefinally managed to call Storybrooke's EMS.

His name choked, heart stopping syllables in her throat andhis dead blue eyes caught her and threatened to drag her into darkened depths.

"I will take you back to the Queen. Alive or dead, itdoesn't matter to her."

Alive or dead - it didmatter to Regina. Under her control and alive or dead and free. It matteredas power always did to people who collected hearts like playing cards and usedthem as their own personal toys.

Alive or dead, it mattered to Regina. It mattered to Emma aswell.

"Does it matter to you?"

The words startled his eyes open but they did not stop hishand. The skill of a hunter kept his blade steady when he held it to her heartwith emotionless intent.

“It’s not up to me.”

Where vacant feeling had been, now Graham’s eyes were wetrimmed and full of dark swirling blue. They were the sad eyes of a man withouta real heart to beat beneath her hand, and Emma remembered – “I remember,” spoken in a voice too happyfor Emma to do anything but stare in wonder. Emma remembered with startling clarity that his heart had never been hisown even when they'd stood in that Sheriff’s station and he'd told her, “Thankyou,” like she had given him the world in her kiss.

Emma again looked into the eyes of the man she could haveloved, had loved, and rememberedRegina’s words: “You are leading him on the path to self-destruction. Stayaway,” and knew that he would save her if he could.

If he had a heart to feel what she felt now with her tearssplitting the mud on her cheeks and driving the dirt off her face.

“I believe you,” Emma said like she could have said, shouldhave said so long ago when it would have mattered. When she could have savedhis life.

She smiled through her tears with his knife held to herheart, beating in tune with a future crushed into ash before it even had thechance to live. The knife pressed harder and her tears fell faster, but in thatmoment, the one certainty she clung to was that she’d have fought her waythrough everything just to press his heart into his hands so it would be hisand his alone.

There were words she could say now, final declarations oflove that he would not reciprocate.

Killian's fist came down on his head before those wordscould ever be, and so again she left her love unspoken.

This time there was no goodbye kiss but it was better thatway, she told herself. The future held enough goodbyes. The past didn't needany more.

"You alright, Emma?"

She crouched on her knees beside Graham's passed out form. Theloops of his shirt wove a necklace of black string, a shoe-laced memory hangingaround his neck. With his fallen knife, she cut the tie it loose and crumpledit in her hand.

When Emma stood, Killian was still staring at her, face scrunchedin worry. He reached out a hand to her, and with the hand not holding Graham'sstring, she grabbed it.

A smile didn't come, but when she replied, "I'mfine," she meant it, in this past and the future that she'd make sureshe'd see for the man who never would.

She looked back only once, after Killian's hands had wipedaway the mud and tears so she could see with clear eyes. She could not seeGraham any longer but she whispered her thank you to him anyway and hoped thathe would hear.

#gremma #gremma ff #anonymous #xoxo gossip amber;;#xoxo; f #xoxo; prompted #t: fic #s: you have a heart #f: ouat #(i'd say im sorry but really i am so sorry)#Anonymous

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arianakristine · 4 years ago

Text

A to Z

I decided to create a little challenge for myself to help my muse and my time constraints, so here is the first part in a drabble collection using an A-Z format with a random word generator.

They are not connected, some are AU, some are very AU, and I hope you enjoy!

Part 1: A to M

Alive

She never knew what a beautiful word it was before: alive. Alive. Alive. It was like a breath of cold air in a snowstorm, stingingly clean and relieving, shaking her to her core.

She pushes past Whale to see for herself, and those cobalt eyes meet hers from across the room.

She wonders how the word makes her struggle for air, but also makes her need it less.

He is alive.

Cracked ribs and sunken eyes, but alive. Scratchy voice and weak grip, but alive.

“Savior,” he accuses, but playfully.

She squeezes, and thinks she’ll accept the title for once.

Blame

She shouldn’t blame him.

Of course she shouldn’t; he didn’t ask for this, no more than she.

She dreams of dark and damp, leaves and dirt and rot climbing her throat until the pain is real and fresh and she is screaming the last of her fear into her pillow.

A worn bit of leather bites into her wrist, and she catches storm-filled eyes across the room in a corner too dark to make out any detail, wonders why she is buried with him.

She can only blame him for the feeling of being just as gone as he is.

Confession

The first confession is in a low breath, almost soundless.

She didn’t mean for him to hear it; his eyes are closed and his breaths had been even for several minutes.

Still, its echo weighs heavily on his tongue, demanding its own declaration to hers. But the penance for hearing it is his silence, he knows, and so he does not shift as she nestles against him, sleeps on.

He knows she finds love a scary thing, and cannot claim not to be frightened of its depths himself.

But now that he knows, he can wait, tend, let it grow.

Doctor

He never cared much for doctors. Healers or medics, they were called, back in the old world. He never had the means to hire one back then, and they were humans, anyhow. He wouldn’t have trusted them.

Here, he just had Whale for scale; he was not one to instill much faith in the profession.

But when the blond steps out from the operating room, hands clean and smug smile tugged across his face before a sharp nod of a yes, he could kiss him.

Emma is fragile like he’s never seen, but her eyes are bright.

His mind changes.

Estate

The estate is sprawling, majestic, cold.

Emma isn’t used to the narrow halls, the winding staircases, the rooms made of stone. It feels hollow, unnatural. The shadows get too thick at night.

She first sees him on the grounds, far from the echoes of the manor, an illusory image in the fog. He is a ghost to mock and mimic the gothic terrors she grew up with.

She knows him all at once, as if she always had and always will.

Their lips first meet where the trees meet the air, and she feels at home for the first time.

Fuel

It doesn’t take much to ignite.

The thing between them had always had a spark, waiting for its tinder. They had each desperately hung on to a piece, until he didn’t care anymore to keep his grip.

Lust, that she was used to. In those cases, the fuel burned out quickly and she could move on.

She didn’t expect the stores to only grow within her, until the flames were indistinguishable from her own fire.

She didn’t expect to want it to consume her.

Instead, it warmed and cast its light like a beacon, until it augmented rather than destroyed.

Graze

Her fingers graze his arm, just touch enough from the callous of her fingertips to catch his attention.

He looks up, finding the crest in the ocean of her eyes and the worry buried inside them, and doesn’t need the whispered words that utter from her parted lips.

He captures her wrist loosely, finds the storm that lies behind the concern.

“Just a scratch,” he barely jokes, a piece of trivia from half a memory.

The starburst of color under his covered chest bellies that, but he stumbles forward, persists.

If it means her safety, it is a mere scrape.

Hypnotize

The blood is vividly red as it spiderwebs outwards and across pale skin, hypnotizing.

She traces the path with her eyes and then her hands, calling upwards to the wound that never quite heals. The heart that pulsates and beats out more of the viscous pain stutters but does not falter, cannot quite meet the looming darkness it wishes to retreat to.

This game has been played before, will be played again, splayed to define the past in mere trickles of horror.

It’s all she can do to hold the pieces together, to right them so they may fight again.

Ignorance

Sometimes, he wishes for ignorance.

Prays to a foreign god that he could be wiped clean of the memory once again, to remove the ache in his brain and heart and soul.

He wonders if she wishes that, too. There is an effortlessness to ignorance, one they haven’t had since curses broke.

But in the early morning, the strands of gold fall across his skin and they drink in each other’s warmth, feeling that truth acutely but managing to heal each other from it through touch.

He supposes the price is worth the reward, finds that love trumps the pain.

Jump

She is at the edge, crumbling stone and crashing waves waiting for her with just a step.

He is at her back, and her fingers have flung back to catch his shirtfront in her grip.

She could jump. It wouldn’t be an effort. She could let go, and the past would be behind her.

She can’t loosen her hold, though, and instead falls back into him, waiting for him to catch her. He disappears into the mist just as quickly as she leaps into him, and she wakes gasping and drenched in her bed.

She knows then it was love.

Kid

“Kid.”

They are grinning at each other, mother and son, and the term of endearment slips from her as easily as any. They seem mirror images, matching eyes and grins, and his heart never felt so full.

It’s just a start, and he can only watch from the shadows of the in-between, but it is at least a start.

Maybe once the pieces fall back into place, when the curse is done and the evil defeated, he can find his own corner in which to fit with them.

But the beginnings of this beautiful relationship can only bring him peace.

License

The license lives in a manila envelope on a plain, unassuming shelf, tucked in between other important files and miscellany. It gathers dust, and is only yanked free on occasions it is called for, but there is no other indication of the piece of paper anywhere else.

Bodies fit together as one on a faded couch and loose, empty left hands hang from the backs of armrests. A house is filled with children’s voices and laughter, loneliness a distant memory.

The paper is forgotten, sits stale, even as the passion and the adoration never does.

Only they know it exists.

Map

He likes to map her out.

His hands and mouth will trace routes made over and over, finding new trails to discover, places of interest to linger on. Scars become stories, ones to press into some guidebook he builds in his mind.

She knows the difference from his touch and his patience, the seduction versus the exploration even when the two might meet from time to time.

He knows before her any time her body changes through the years, but she feels the worship of it before she can be self-conscious.

She hopes her maps make him feel the same.

#gremma #emma swan #graham humbert #gremma ff #ouat ff

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lessawildmoon · 7 years ago

Text

She Will Pay - Part 2

Title: She Will Pay (Part one here)

Summary: He should have known better than to trust her change of heart; now he knows the truth he has to act, regardless of the cost.

Pairing/Relationships: Gremma (with just the tiniest bit of background Captain Beauty). Hunted Believer and Swan Believer.

Warnings: Significant mentions of child abuse, referenced rape and abuse (basically, they talk about Regina). Not a regal believer friendly fic.

Rating: M (we have some adult themes and violence going on here).

Notes: See Part One

Special note to my non Gremma shipping people. If you are here because we share similar frustrations with Regina’s character, I think you may enjoy this regardless of the ship.

This was betaed by the amazing @arianakristine, so any mistakes are because I ignored her.

AO3 / FF.net

Emma finally made it home, after wasting far more time than she would have liked reuniting Lily with her mother, and explaining to her own parents what had happened. She paused, hand on the doorknob. She had no idea what she was going to be walking into, no idea how Henry was going to react. Or even really how much he already knew; she had been too angry to ask. This was not how she had anticipated her day going. The road trip from hell had left her exhausted even before everything else. All she wanted was to crawl into bed, and that was not going to happen anytime soon. But putting it off was not going to get it over with any sooner, so she opened the door.

“Mom” Henry called out her name as soon as she stepped inside. She could see he had been crying and she felt the anger she had been tamping down flare up again. He looked behind her expectantly and when it became clear she was alone his eyes flicked back to her. “Where’s Dad?”

He took a step back and she could almost see the blood drain from his face. “Did she…did she kill him?”

Her heart seized. He should not have to ask that question, this should not be his life. Not for the first time she wondered if she had made a mistake in staying, if they should have gone back to New York. Maybe Henry would have had a chance at normality away from this cursed town.

“No kid, Graham’s fine, he ….” She couldn’t exactly tell Henry how she had basically told Graham to go to hell, or how she had been so horrified that she had barely been able to look at him. “He just had some things he needed to do before coming home.”

“Does that mean she’s…gone?” His voice sounded so small, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear him, or was scared of the answer. “We’re safe now?”

She wanted to cry. She stepped forward to pull Henry into a hug. She may still not be sure how she felt about Regina’s death, but she could at least reassure Henry if that was what he needed. “Yeah sweetie, she’s gone. She won’t be able to hurt anyone again.”

He buried himself into her arms and she could feel him shaking as he tried to hold back tears. She barely caught his next words, muffled as they were by her body. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to stop her.”

And now the anger was back in full force. Except she wasn’t sure who she was angrier at, Regina for making him feel this way, or herself for not noticing. Had they been so wrapped up in the crisis of the week to not see what Henry was doing, how much he had been taking on himself? She pulled back just far enough to be able to look him in the eye, hands on his shoulders.

“Listen kid, what she did was not your fault.” Whatever else happened she would make sure he knew that. He was not going to be allowed to blame himself for Regina’s choices.

“That’s what Dad said.” There was something close to laugh in his voice, despite the tears, or at least as close as he could get under the circumstances.

“Well, he was right.” She should have known that whatever else was happening that Graham would have tried to make sure that Henry did not blame himself.

“But he’s OK, he’s not hurt or anything?” There was still too much fear in his voice. What had their lives come to that Henry had to worry about this?

“Yes, I promise. He’s fine. Tell you what, how about I give him a call and check how long he is going to be?” It was pretty clear that Henry was not going to relax until he saw for himself that Graham was OK, and the look on his face at her suggestion was all the confirmation she needed. Ignoring her own nerves at calling him after how they had parted earlier, she pulled out her phone and made the call.

“Hello?” She could hear the uncertainty in his voice as he answered, and she couldn’t blame him. He could hardly have been expecting her to call so soon, if at all.

“Hi.” She tried to make her voice sound normal. She was relying on him to play along so Henry didn’t realise that there was anything more going on here than him just being late home. “Henry wanted to know when you would be home.”

There was a pause before he replied. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She may still be angry, but she would suck it up for Henry. They had always presented a united front when it came to him. Henry had been dealing with enough tension between the branches of his increasingly complicated family tree, so they had agreed that whatever disagreements they had should be settled behind closed doors. Not that there had been many.

She had just been too angry to remember that earlier. Not to mention she hadn’t thought Henry would even want him here. But apparently, Henry needed to see him, to see he was safe with his own eyes, which was far more important than her own feelings right now. And they needed to talk as well. She wasn’t sure how that would go, or how she wanted it to go, but even in the short time she’d had, she had realised she could not run the way she always had before. Even without Henry to consider, it was not just her anymore; it was them. Their home, their family and friends. Their life.

“I’m not actually far. We secured Zelena in the cells under the hospital, it seemed like the safest place for her. And I figured it would be best to have your parents meet Robin and Roland.”

She hadn’t even thought of that. She was grateful that they had needed some time to pack up their stuff before following, Roland had enough to deal with without seeing that. She wasn’t sure she wanted to ask if his presence would have changed anything; she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“I was on my way down to the docks. Killian offered me a berth for the night.”

Now that surprised her, along with the use of Killian’s first name, given Graham had barely stopped referring to him as ‘pirate’. They may have come to some kind of peace, mainly because of Belle, but they were not friends by any stretch. “I would have thought he would be with Belle tonight.”

“He is. I just wanted to avoid the gossip that would have come if I had stayed at Granny’s, and when I went to tell them it was done, he offered.”

For a brief second, she had forgotten what had happened, why they were even having this weird conversation in the first place. But his words brought it back with an almost physical jolt. It scared her, how casually he could talk about having killed someone. He could be talking about anything, and any hesitance in his voice was about her reaction, not regret for his actions. She didn’t know if she could live with that. But she pushed that thought aside, since reassuring Henry was the most important thing. She could deal with her issues later.

“Hurry home.” That was all she said before hanging up, not trusting herself not to say something she shouldn’t. That was not a conversation for a phone call, and especially not one in earshot of Henry.

“He’s on his way home now.” Some of the tension had left Henry over the course of the phone call, but she doubted he would fully relax until he saw Graham for himself. And frankly, having realised the danger he could have been in, she needed to see him herself. Angry or not, she needed to know he was safe.

With that, they came to an uneasy silence. She didn’t know what to say. Henry seemed more accepting of events than she was. She was worried that was more due to combination of fear and shock, and knew the real test would be over the coming days and weeks as the reality sunk in. But she also knew there was no good pushing him now. They would need to talk about it more, but Henry was far too self-sufficient for it not to be counterproductive to force the issue before he was ready.

“Did you eat dinner?” It was late to be eating, but it would give her something to actually do. Other than just stand here awkwardly.

“I don’t think I could eat.” Made sense. She didn’t think she could either, even though she hadn’t eaten much all day. They hadn’t wanted to risk stopping while they had Zelena in the car.

“How about some hot cocoa?” She moved towards the kitchen, pulling out the milk and chocolate. Even if Henry didn’t want it, she could do with the comfort.

“With cinnamon?” He answered the way he always did, and she gave her usual response.

“How else?” It was a deceptive slice of normality in a day that was anything but. She knew it couldn’t last, but she would take the brief moment before everything came crashing back down again.

Silence fell over them once more, the only noise being her making the cocoa. This was not the easy silence they were used to, but one that was heavy and uncomfortable. It felt like hours, even it had only been a few minutes, before they heard a key in the lock.

Henry bolted out of his seat and had thrown himself at Graham before he was even fully in the door.

“When you didn’t come home I thought she’d hurt you.”

She definitely missed New York. She knew Henry had sometimes worried when she was out working, but never this real fear that someone he loved might be hurt, or worse. No child should have to live like this.

“She didn’t. I would not have let her. I’m fine.” The words might have been directed at Henry, but they reassured her as well. She was only now really beginning to comprehend the danger Graham could have been in if things had gone differently.

She watched as he moved them into the house until Henry was back sitting at the counter, drinking the rest of his hot cocoa, as he managed to redirect the conversation so Henry was talking about some school project he was working on. Graham had always been good at distracting Henry, and she suspected Henry wanting to be distracted helped. They had told her stories about what used to happen when he ran away before she came to town, the time they had spent together, and while it may have been for unhappy reasons, she loved the bond they had developed.

It did not take long for Henry’s eyelids to start to droop, yawns interrupting his sentences. The adrenaline of the day was fading, leaving exhaustion behind, and it was a testament to how tired he was that he barely argued when she called for bedtime.

He might have been a little old to need tucking in, but neither of them were complaining. By the time he was ready for bed he was already a little unsteady on his feet, and was out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow. She pulled the blanket up around him and brushed his hair out of his face. She told herself that she was just worried after what he had been through that day, and she was. But eventually she had to admit to herself that she was also delaying having to talk to Graham.

She couldn’t hide in Henry’s room forever, however tempting it might be. She took one last look back at Henry sleeping peacefully, at least for the moment, before she closed his door behind her and walked back to where Graham was waiting for her in the living room.

“I can go.” With Henry gone he was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, and she suddenly realised he hadn’t actually sat down since he’d got back.

“No. Stay.” She wasn’t completely sure she wanted him to, despite her relief that he had not been hurt. She was still angry. He had unilaterally made a decision to murder a woman, and had shown no regret for it.

They needed to talk about it, but the thought of that made her rethink giving up running. It was so much easier when you split before things got complicated. As much as she had always wanted a family, she still wasn’t so good at actually being part of one. She took a seat, too tired to remain standing, before she spoke. “So, do I start, or do you?”

“Don’t ask me to regret it.” He said quickly, rushing to get the words out. “I did what had to be done and I will not apologise for protecting my family.”

And that was what was so disturbing to her. It unnerved her, and that fed her anger. “It didn’t have to be done. Even if you were right about her being a danger again there were other options.”

“Like what?” His words were clipped and harsh, his own anger bleeding through. “Lock her up? Even if we had a cell that could hold her, how long before your mother’s bleeding heart saw her free again?”

She had never liked thinking about that too closely, how her parents had been given the opportunity to stop Regina and had chosen to let her go instead. How many people had suffered for that decision, Graham especially. She knew her mother had meant well, but it was not a decision she could understand, or be at ease with the consequences. She watched as Graham closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, calming himself down.

“She manipulated us once.” He continued in a softer voice, almost pleading but not quite. “Do you really think she would not do it again? Do you think she would not use Henry?”

That thought chilled her. She may have been willing to work with Regina, but she had never completely trusted her. She was a lot less vulnerable to her manipulations than Henry would be, and even then, she had found herself feeling sorry for the other woman at times. Had even found herself feeling guilty for saving Marian’s life.

“If she were of this world then there might have been another option.” He went on. “But in ours there are some people just too dangerous to let live.”

“That doesn’t mean I can just murder her.” He was making too much sense. She couldn’t be OK with this, it was wrong, it had to be.

“You didn’t. I did.” He said that like it made a difference.

“Don’t be a smart ass, you know what I meant. Heroes don’t kill.” At least not in cold blood like that, but the words sounded hollow, even to her.

“I never made any claim to being a hero, and have no desire to. My priority is keeping you and Henry safe, and after that protecting this town. Heroes…” She could hear the edge of disdain in his voice on that word. “…and their refusal to kill, were what got us cursed in the first place. We may need heroes like you, but we also sometimes need someone willing to get their hands dirty.”

“How can you be so calm about this? You killed a woman.” It was terrifying, how calm he was, how little he seemed to care. She couldn’t understand. She didn’t regret killing Cruella, she had been protecting Henry. But she still felt guilty over it.

“I have killed many, and few who deserved it. I’ll not notice a little more blood on my hands. Especially not hers.”

“You wanted her dead, you always have, this is all a little convenient for you, isn’t it?” She wanted to take back the words as soon as they left her mouth, tongue loosened in frustration at his refusal to regret what he’d done. Belle had been hurt, she still didn’t know how badly, and she knew how hard Graham took harm to his loved ones, far harder than harm to himself.

“Yes, I wished for her death, at times more than I wished for my own.” She winced at the reminder of how badly he had wanted to escape her. “I’ll not deny that I gained some satisfaction from ending her life, I think I earned that right. But I made the choice to put my feelings aside for Henry’s sake, and had she been genuine I would have continued to do so. His safety comes first, always.”

“What if he can’t handle this, knowing you killed her?” That at least made him pause, and she recognised the way he took a moment to put together what he was going to say before he answered.

“I had no expectation of returning here when this started. I knew Henry might never forgive me. That was a price I was willing to pay to keep him safe. Better this pain now than worse down the road. Hurting him was unavoidable, it was just a case of when and how badly.” He fell silent for a long moment, looking at her intently. “But that is not why you are so angry. If it was about Henry I would understand that, but that’s not it, is it?”

She wanted to snap at him and tell him not to tell her why she was angry, but he was right. Of course she was worried about Henry, how couldn’t she be? Even if he did seem to be taking it better that she was for the moment. But that was not what was really fuelling her anger. If she was honest with herself she knew why, and it had nothing to do with Graham or Henry.

“I was relieved.” She finally said what had really been eating at her all evening. “I realised she was dead and the first thing I felt was relief.”

He stayed quiet, letting her speak. Her gaze was locked on the wall behind him, unable to look at him as she admitted this.

“I didn’t really understand how much I worried about her until it went away. But when I realised she was gone, I was relieved. And I still am.” She could even go so far to say she was almost happy. “So what does that make me? If I’m happy she’s dead? What kind of example does that make me for Henry?”

“I am not exactly the expert, but think that makes you human.” He said, with a wry smile. “There is nothing wrong with being relieved that a threat to your family has been eliminated. That is normal, or at least it should be.”

He made it sound so reasonable, so straightforward. She brought her feet up to rest on the edge of couch, hugging her knees to her chest, before she continued.

“I’m scared that the real reason I’m relieved is that it means we don’t have to share Henry with her anymore.” There. She’d said it, even if she still could not look at him. Was she really that petty? She didn’t know; she hoped not. But she had resented Regina, resented that Henry spent so much time with her. She had thought about how much easier it would be if Regina just disappeared from their lives. She would never have said it, but she had thought it. And now it had happened and she could not trust her own judgement. Wasn’t sure if her relief was because they were safer now, or because she was selfish. “I didn’t like how much of his time she took from us.”

“Emma.” He stepped forward, kneeling in front of her until she met his eye. “You always respected her role in Henry’s life, far more than she ever did yours. Even when I was insisting that you shouldn’t, you still fought on her behalf.”

It had been their first real fight. One she had only won by appealing to his love for Henry. She wondered how things would have gone if she hadn’t.

Would they have come to this point sooner? Would not having Henry have meant Regina wouldn’t have tried to be good at all, or stopped trying sooner? If she actually had ever been trying at all, something she was starting to doubt. She wondered if her change had been an act all along, if the whole time she had been pretending so she wouldn’t lose Henry. If they had made the break back then would it have meant less pain for Henry? If he hadn’t believed she had changed only to have his hopes smashed? Or would he have resented them for not being willing to give her a chance?

There was no point obsessing over it now, but she couldn’t stop herself. She had come to realise that second guessing every decision you made came with being a parent. And it was worst with the big things, and this was a big as they came.

But this was not the time to worry about that. Graham was still talking, and she had no doubt she wouldn’t have any shortage of time to obsess later.

“She has been given more chances than anyone should expect. If she did not want to take any of them, that was her choice. But if she had decided to change, I know you would have continued to support her place in Henry’s life.” He paused, and she could see him mentally debate whether or not to say what he was thinking. “And maybe you knew on some level that this was not a good relationship for him. Maybe the feeling you are worried was jealousy was actually your instincts trying to warn you of danger. Sometimes we know something is wrong even if we don’t know what or why.”

“So, what? This is my fault for not listening to my gut?” She could see the exasperation written all over his face at her words, he even rolled his eyes at her. She wasn’t serious, not really. But there was a small part of her that felt guilty for not knowing something was wrong. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was something she could have done differently. If there was a way that would have hurt Henry less, and have not endangered so many people.

“If you are to blame then so am I. More so even.” She was about to laugh off his words, but the laughter died when she saw the way his gaze had dropped. He did blame himself.

“Graham, no. We didn’t know, we couldn’t have known.”

“I knew.” He cut her off sharply. “I knew what she was, what she was capable of. Better than anyone. I knew she was a danger. And I let it go. Who knows what else she has done that we don’t know about, might never know about. What else she did while pretending to have changed. That she got away with because I was too scared of losing you and Henry to push for what I knew needed to be done.”

And the blows just kept on coming. Just when she thought her heart couldn’t take anymore. Because now she had to wonder how much their insistence on accepting Regina had cost him. What he had gone through because her family seemed hellbent on giving that woman chance after chance. Even now her breath still caught at how much he would sacrifice for her, for them.

“Even if that were true, you were hardly the only one, and she was not your responsibility.” No, Regina was her family’s responsibility. One they had failed to uphold.

“Wasn’t it? I am the Sheriff. I took an oath to protect the people of this town. They trusted me, and I failed. We only found out because she was desperate enough to take such a big risk. As bad as it was, it could have been so much worse. We may not have known until it was too late to stop her. Until she got her happy ending at everyone else’s expense.”

That one hit home. Honestly the whole idea had been so ridiculous that she hadn’t really given much thought to what Regina had planned if she found the author. She had just been glad she was focused on something non-destructive. Anything that stopped her from relapsing seemed worth going along with, and it had seemed harmless enough. Then Gold had got involved and suddenly it wasn’t such an impossible idea, but there was too much going on for her to have time to stop and think. But now she could think about it, and she couldn’t help but suspect that Regina’s idea of a happy ending would not have involved having to share Henry with anyone.

“It’s not like you didn’t try. You didn’t want us to trust her. We ignored you.” Another thing to feel guilty for. They had all been so understanding, making sure to keep her away from him. But they hadn’t listened to him, or trusted his judgment. “I’m sorry, we should have listened. We shouldn’t have forced you to accept her.”

“Emma, you don’t have to apologise. I may not have liked it, but I understood why. I hoped she could change as well, for Henry’s sake. You wanted what was best for Henry, and that is never something to be sorry for.” She wasn’t sure that even that was really a good enough reason for what they had done. But she doubted she was going to get a better opening than that to bring up the thought that had been lurking at the back of her mind all night.

“I was thinking about New York. About us going back.” He didn’t say anything, just cocked his head and waited for her to continue. “I can’t help but think about how much simpler things were for him there. He had friends, a life that did not involve constant danger. We went an entire year without anyone trying to kill him. Here, we are lucky if he manages a week. I don’t think he would want to leave, I’m not sure I want to leave, but…”

“If it is what is best for him, it is worth it.” He finished. Of course he understood. Wasn’t that exactly what he had done today, if in a more extreme way that she would have. He had been willing to lose Henry, and her, in order to keep him safe.

“What about you, what do you think about the idea? It would be a bit different to what you’re used to.” This was not solely her call, it affected all of them, and he deserved a say.

“My home is wherever you and Henry are.” For a guy who was supposedly not so good with words, he sure could come out with the most heart-meltingly romantic things sometimes. “If that is New York, so be it.”

“That is not an answer.” It may have been sweet, but it did not tell her how he felt about the possibility of moving out of Storybrooke.

He sighed before he answered. “I don’t like the idea of you being separated from your parents again. After so long, you deserve them in your life. And I can’t say the idea of living in a big city, and leaving my brother behind, necessarily appeals to me. But at the end of the day, you are worth any sacrifice. You and Henry.”

Maybe someday she would be used to having someone who thought she was worth sacrificing for, but for now it still surprised her every time.

“Your turn.” He gave her a moment to take in his answer before continuing. “You haven’t said what you think about the idea, beyond it being better for Henry.”

“Me? I’m not sure. Things were simpler then. I mean, I missed you, even if I didn’t know what it was that was missing. But other than that, we were happy. It was normal, you know? No constant emergencies, no danger, just normal life.” The end of her sentence was swallowed by a yawn and she was suddenly hit by how bone tired she was. The day had been exhausting both physically and mentally, and it looked like that had finally caught up with her. “But I think for now, I just want to go to bed. Come on, tomorrow is tomorrow’s problem.”

Things might have been a little awkward as they got ready for bed, she could tell Graham was trying not to presume too much, but for once she was too tired to overthink and was the one to close the distance. She knew the days ahead would not be easy. She had no idea how Henry was going to react once the initial shock and relief wore off. She feared this might go on to cause an irreparable rift in his relationship with Graham, one that could destroy their family.

She hadn’t had enough time to really gauge her parent’s reactions. Her mother had always been Regina’s biggest supporter, and the thought of having to keep defending Graham’s actions to her, especially when she had still not completely come to terms with them herself, was not a good one. Would Mary Margaret make Henry feel guilty about his reaction? They had finally settled into a normal relationship as a family, or at least as normal as they were ever going to get. This could throw that equilibrium back into chaos, after she had worked so hard to find that balance with them.

But like she’d said, that was tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, her family were here and safe. And given every other challenge they had faced and conquered, even those doubts were not enough for her to think they would not make it through this one as well.

Maybe she had in fact inherited some of her parent’s optimism. Or maybe she was finally learning not to always expect the worst from those she loved. But whatever it was, she found she had faith that everything was going to work out just fine.

#Gremma #Emma Swan #Sheriff Graham #Henry Swan #gremma ff #ouat ff #Swan Believer #Anti Regina #Anti Regal Believer #my fic #fic:she will pay #graham is not a fluffy puppy #abuse tw

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 years ago

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Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 106: On the Way To the Underworld

Pairing: Captain Swan

Summary: A series of unrelated, fluffy one shots featuring Killian Jones and Emma Swan and the relationship that makes us all swoon. Will contain both canon and AU stories. My contribution to Operation Rainbow Kisses and Unicorn Stickers (aka, my attempt to drown out the season 4 finale angst with ridiculous levels of fluff.)

Other Chapters: ( 1) (2) ( 3) ( 4) ( 5) (6) ( 7) ( 8) ( 9) ( 10) ( 11) ( 12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31) (32) (33) (34) (35) (36) (37) (38) (39) (41) (42) (43) (44) (45) (46) (47) (48) (49) (50) (51) (52) (53) (54) (55) (56) (57) (58) (59) (60) (61) (62) (63) (64) (65) (66) (67) (68) (69) (70) (71) (72) (73) (74) (75) (76) (77) (78) (79) (80) (81) (82) (83) (84) (85) (86) (87) (88) (89) (90) (91) (92) (93) (94) (95) (96) (97) (98) (99) (100) (101) (102) (103) (104) (105) (107) (108) (109) (110) (111) (112) (113) (114) (115) (116) (117) (118) (119) (120) (121) (122) (123) (124) (125) (126) (127) (128) (129) (130) (131) (132) (133) (134) (135) (136) (137) (138) (139) (140) (141) (142) (143) (144) (145) (146) (147) (148) (149) (150) (151) (152) (153) (154) (155) (156) (157) (158) (159) (160) (161) (162) (163) (164) (165) (166) (167) (168) (169) (170) (171) (172) (173) (174)

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (5x12—implied CS, with Gremma brotp)

As Emma settled into her seat and felt the gentle rocking of the boat (shouldn’t a boat headed to hell be more…tempestuous?), gradually she felt the exhaustion overcome her.

“Sleep, honey,” Mary Margaret said, putting a motherly arm around her and stroking her hair. “While we have a few minutes of peace, sleep.”

She didn’t want to, wanted to spend their downtime planning and strategizing, but as her eyelids became heavier and heavier, she realized she had no choice in the matter….

What the actual hell?

“Emma, it’s been a long time.”

Emma turned abruptly, her eyes going wide. She’d recognize that Irish lilt anywhere.

“Graham?” she asked, seeing the man himself in his jeans, his bomber jacket, his sheriff’s badge prominently displayed on his chest. “What? How? Is this a dream?”

He stepped forward and cupped her face in his hand, caressed it gently and smiled. “This is no dream, Emma, although you might say you’re in an altered state of reality.”

“Are you in the Underworld?” Emma asked. “Have we arrived?”

“Moved…on?” Emma asked. “On to where?”

He shot her a startled look. “Whatever for, Emma?”

“For this,” she said, “for getting you killed. “If I’d just left well enough alone, not butted into your whole weird deal with Regina, maybe you’d still be alive.”

“Really?” Emma asked. “That’s really how you think of our friendship?”

Emma felt the tears well up, glad to have an opportunity to cry for a happy reason for a change.

“I know where you’re headed, Emma,” Graham said, looking suddenly grave. “You wish to save your love from Hades’ clutches.”

“Sh,” Graham said, smiling gently once again. “I’m not asking you to, Emma. It’s quite the noble thing you’re doing and I wish you the greatest success.”

“But?” Emma asked, seeing the reservation in his face.

“The Underworld is a dangerous place,” Graham said. “Hades has all sorts of horrors prepared for the people in his domain, and he won’t give up one of his souls easily.”

“Never expected it to be easy,” Emma said, “but he’s my True Love. If there’s anything I can do to save him, anything, I have to do it.”

“That I can promise you.”

Emma woke abruptly and sat up in the boat, disoriented in the sudden reddish light.

“You okay, mom?” Henry asked, looking over her carefully.

“Yeah,” Emma said, running a hand through her hair. “I have a feeling that we are all going to be just fine. Now let’s go rescue a pirate!”

Notes:

--This story was originally written and posted earlier this week on Tumblr as a birthday present for @snowbellewells.

--I’m not exactly a huge fan of Neal, so, predictably, the scene at the very beginning of 5b where Emma has a dream or whatever of Neal where he tells her not to go to the Underworld just annoyed me. I decided if Emma was going to meet with any of her previous romantic interests on the way to rescue Killian, Graham was the best option.

--Up next: I saw a young couple at church the other day with their newborn baby. The dad was adorable with her. He held her the entire time and couldn’t stop looking down at her. Of course, my first thought (well second after “Aww! That is pretty much the most adorable thing ever!”) was “How can I turn this into a CS fic?” So next week, I think I’ll write a future fic about Killian being absolutely besotted with his and Emma’s newborn baby.

NEXT CHAPTER-->

#cs ff #csfridayfluff #gremma brotp ff #my fanfiction #fluffy fridays

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