WHO: Emma Swan, Baelfire (aged up to Neal) WHEN: Back during the week of the funhouse! 8/14 WHERE: Espresso Pump WHAT: Emma meets up with Neal, as promised. STATUS:
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Neal wasn't accustomed to having many friends in his life back home. During his perceived adolescence, he'd been homeless and more or less on his own. There wasn't much option for anything else when you lived on the streets. The yellow bug had been a safe haven for him and had been a stroke of luck as well, since it had brought Emma into his life. She'd been one of the first friends he'd really had since his escape from Neverland. No matter what else he could say about his road with Emma, that was something he'd always cherished.
Baelfire's life here was different. He had friends and he had a support system. He was about to embark on a college education, pursuing something he was actually passionate about, and he had the family Neal had always longed for. And Baelfire was willing to have a laugh with his friends, something Neal hadn't ever been afforded in his alternate youth. Ronan and Baelfire had spotted the funhouse and they'd had no issues with strolling straight inside, taking advantage of the apparently forgotten structure.
It had meant to be fun and instead, now, Neal was sitting in a foreign world reflecting on memories of this life as well as the life he led back in his own world. He felt as though he were a visitor. This wasn't his life but it also was.
It was a lot to process and he was trying not to think too hard about it. There was a part of him that very strongly did not want this to be temporary. Even though Neal was brave, whether he'd admit to it or not, it wasn't easy to stare down your own mortality and accept that it was so soon. If he remained in Tumbleweed, he was cheating death, wasn't he? Or at least bypassing it for a period of time. He'd get to be with Henry as a Father and not as a brother, which was the role his younger self had more or less carved out with his child. It made sense. There were only a few years between Henry and his younger self; at least in terms of maturity. It was easier to take on a sibling like relationship than to feel a parental obligation. But that wasn't the role Neal wanted. Neal had been desperate to get back to Henry and to Emma.
Emma had moved on. Emma was happy and Neal was going to be happy for her. But Henry?
Neal wanted to be there for him. And in desiring this, he knew, he was almost betraying everything his younger self had built. He would be robbing Baelfire of a life of happiness that he'd never had in Neal's time. He'd be robbing him of friendships and potential romances. He'd already gotten messages from Posy as he sat in the Espresso Pump. And it wasn't as though Neal didn't care. He was Baelfire after all and he remembered everything. He remembered the way his younger self was beginning to feel for the girl.
It almost made him laugh as he thought on it, seeing how innocent and naive he was towards the whole thing.
But Neal wasn't in a place to want to be in any relationship. His heart, for better or for worse, was already spoken for. And he'd settle for being content with having no romantic entanglements if it meant he could be here for Henry.
But it still felt like he was stealing a life away. He just couldn't hope to return. He couldn't hope for his own demise. It was too much to think about and so he was trying not to. One step at a time. After all, Neal was observant and no fool. He knew this was likely temporary. He needed to account for the time he had.
Sighing, he set his phone down and brought his hands together, elbows resting on the table he was located at.
Tumbleweed was larger than Storybrooke by a helluva lot, which meant that Emma actually had a uniform (no tie, thankfully) to wear when she went to work at the sheriff's department. No getting away with her red jacket with a badge strapped to her belt. As much as Emma was a beacon for pushing people away, for standing up for who she was, she actually liked being just another anonymous person in the crowd.
She was the Savior, yes. Just not here.
Here she was Emma Swan. Sheriff. Fiancee. Mother — awkward as it may be at time to consider herself mother and guardian to Baelfire, who was her son's father. Friend. Co-worker. She didn't have to really worry about the Final Battle or dying.
She still got the hiccups in her magic from time to time. The shaking hands, the occasional nightmare. But she'd gotten better at telling when they were coming and how to handle them. They barely bothered her most times, because there was no Darkness coming for her here.
And then there were times she really hated Tumbleweed. Or at least, she wanted to roll her eyes at the personification of this town that liked to mess things up. Just when they'd gotten settled in and gotten a groove as a family. Just as they'd started in with the light teasing of both of her "sons" having crushes…
Neal happened.
Tumbleweed was strange. On the one hand, the Espresso Pump was one of the many places around town that had deals and discounts for officers. It was enough to make her want to take some of these ideas back to Storybrooke. Half off Granny's grilled cheese? Yes, please. But there were some massive cons. Having her first love show up just after she'd gotten engaged? No, thanks.
What she wanted didn't matter though because he was here and avoiding him was not something she was going to do. He was still Baelfire, the fragile boy who showed up without any working knowledge of their world or friends or family. Just because he'd grown and gotten a ton of memories in the process didn't change that. Besides she liked Neal. She'd venture to say she still loved him.
When she saw him, though, it was all she could do not to start crying though. The last time she'd seen him, he was dying in her arms to save his idiot father. It was something she'd do, but if he'd known all the crap his father had done since then, maybe he'd think twice. Neal deserved to live.
After getting his attention and holding up a finger to indicate to give her a moment, she turned it to the counter where she could get coffee and pastries. One good thing about knowing someone: you knew how they took their coffee and what donuts they liked best. It didn't take them long before they were handing over hot coffee and food. Emma juggled it all the way back to the table and leaned down for him to take his coffee.
Instead of going the emotional route, Emma took the path of least resistance. A joke. "You weren't kidding about getting older. You could be a grandpa with those smile lines."
When the door opened, pretty much since she'd told him she'd come to him, he'd look up to see if it was indeed Emma. And with every person who stepped into the establishment who wasn't her, he'd feel his heart sink just slightly. However, it was nothing compared to the moment when she actually did walk into the cafe. He'd been sitting up straight, his neck craning to see the door, and he caught sight of her spotting him. As she indicated for him to wait for her and proceeded to make her way towards the clerk, he allowed himself to slump down in his chair, stomach already doing flips in on itself.
He'd spent the better part of half a year trying to reach her, back in their world. Pan had caused them to be separated, again, and this time everyone was seeming to accept that there was nothing they could do. He didn't understand that logic. He didn't understand a lot of them. They weren't his family or his friends. They were Emma's; and they shared a love for her, Henry and a longing to be back with them. Nothing else.
He and Belle had gone off on their own. They'd worked together, as the sole loved ones of his Father, to try to reunite with Emma and Henry. It'd been his sole goal and he'd been desperate. He knew exactly where his head was when he was seconds away from pressing his hand to that sigil. He was a man who couldn't handle anymore separation. He was willing to do anything. That wasn't brave, even if Emma had said it was. It was desperation and foolhardiness.
He didn't move to meet her. She'd asked him to wait, through signals, and that was what he was going to do. And in the process, he began to prepare himself for evading emotions. Even though he had memories of seeing her just at breakfast that morning, he also had memories of watching her drive away in the car that had once been their home, as yet again magic pulled him away from where he wanted to be.
When she approached, he brought the smile. It was easy to do. He knew this routine. He reached up to take the coffee from her and gave her his usual roguish smile, one that his younger self hadn't quite mastered yet. "You know, all things considering, that's almost a compliment. I'm pretty decent looking Grandpa for being over a hundred and something," he returned in jest, keeping the smile, before motioning to the chair beside him for her to sit.
Emma set everything out on the table in front of her, not bothering to organize it any particular fashion. Some things about her never changed. As soon as she sat down, her hand was moving toward the donut even as she was talking. "You think this is an upgrade like you got that one time when you aged up a little? Or just some sort of funky thing like those Lego people? Or the gender swapping?"
She took a bigger bite than was necessary, a habit she picked up as a kid when there wasn't much food to go around. You ate quick, or you lost out. There was a reason she constantly pocketed free food wherever she went. Some habits were hard to break. Her childlike eating habits (grilled cheese, fries, bring it) were notorious. Neal definitely recognized them, she was sure. "I should probably put some sort of blockade around that funhouse."
He reached out, mouthing a 'thank you' as he did, and wrapped his hand around his cup of coffee. He took a quick sip from it and appreciated the fact that she still knew how he liked it. No sugar but tons of milk. Lowering it, he rested his elbow on the table and let his head lean against his hand, fingers spreading through his hair. "If it's an upgrade, it's got suspicious timing," he responded, unable to really repress the worried look that flashed across his eyes when he said so. "Ronan changed, too. He was in a different room. He's got a girl's body right now. So, I'm thinking it's because of the fun house," he added after a moment.
Which, he was sure she knew, meant it was temporary.
He then moved to grab his jelly donut and nearly inhaled the whole thing before he pulled the rest away. He turned around in his chair, snatched a few napkins from the holder, and dropped them between himself and Emma. Then he moved to wipe the powdered sugar away from his lips and set the other half of his pastry on the napkin. "Probably not a bad idea," he agreed.
"We'll have to see how this plays out, I guess." It might have been rude to speak while swallowing the first bite of her donut. She quickly took a sip of her too-hot coffee and winced. That was definitely a downside to eating fast. Impatience and burning your mouth. Pizza was the worst.
It afforded her a little time to think before talking again.
A part of her wanted him to stay Neal. If for no other reason than because Henry could make up for all that lost time. If he was about to touch that stupid seal, then this could be his second chance. It would complicate things for her, but Henry was their primary concern and Emma knew that Neal really did wish her happiness, no matter how or who it happened with.
"You're welcome to stay at the house, of course. Your bedroom is still your bedroom. Even if it's your younger self's bedroom."
"I'm going to treat it like it might not last, Em," he informed her, without hesitation, as his eyes found their way to gaze into hers. He didn't know what might happen but he wasn't going to waste this time. It wasn't as though he could do anything to change what was coming for him back home. But he could spend time with those whom he cared for that were here.
He just needed to be sure he didn't think about it as a period of finality. Perhaps if he thought of it more as a visit that had a set time restraint? That could work. It allowed for him not to dwell on the inevitable.
He took another drink from his coffee before shaking his head in disagreement. "I've made arrangements," he said, before adding, "But I do appreciate it." Another beat passed. "I've been very happy there these past few months."
"You're still welcome at the house any time," she insisted, a little more sternly. She knew that both Killian and Henry would want to see him, to spend time with him. Knowing what was to come was making this a lot more difficult that Emma thought it would. A little more time seemed like a great idea, but then there'd be a morning when they woke up and Baelfire would return.
She loved Baelfire with all of her heart; it just wasn't the same. He was more like a son to her, or maybe a younger brother. Someone she felt the pull of protecting from all the awful things to come in his life. Neal didn't need that kind of protecting; he'd built up walls of his own. "At least stop by for dinner a few times."
"I won't be a stranger," he assured her. No, he was fully intending on being around Henry as much as he could. He knew what was coming and his memories as his younger self confirmed it. He'd not waste any of the time he had here.
He set his coffee cup down and folded his arms over top of the table surface, tilting his head in her direction as he did so. "Depends. You going to be cooking?" He said with a hint of his old smirk. He wanted to keep the conversation light and away from the heaviness that could easily loom over them. He knew if he let the emotions come in too far, they wouldn't go away, and that was just going to make this harder for everyone.
"If it comes in a box, I can make it." Her voice was lighter than she felt, slipping into the mask of thoughtlessness easily enough. Getting emotional in a coffee shop was likely to raise a few eyebrows.
Besides, she wasn't a bad cook necessarily, but her idea of cooking was not some fancy dinner. Spaghetti and pancakes and grilled cheeses were easy enough to make; she just knew that the others didn't always want them. She'd been venturing more into cooking. She had the time here. "At least it's not from a gas station."
"I wouldn't say 'no' to a grilled cheese sometime soon," he mused, keeping up the sense of levity. He'd actually found himself having intense cravings during his stint in the Enchanted Forest for all the kinds of food that were impossible to have until his return to his home. Processed cheese. Milky Way bars. Jelly donuts.
At least he was ticking one of those off of his list now.
Then he gave a slight huff of a laugh as he lifted his coffee cup again, speaking just before he took a drink. "Hey, we got pretty creative with those taco in a bag concepts."
The wrinkled nose with the vague expression that something smelled foul gave away what she thought of those tacos. There were a lot of weirdly particular memories that she associated with Neal Cassidy. Tacos, no matter what form they took, were one of them. So were bodega burritos.
"Creative, yes. Edible? Not really. I still can't eat taquitos." She punctuated each word with a pointing of her finger around the cup of coffee she talked with before she took another sip. "But yeah, you should definitely come by for dinner. Chef Emma Swan makes some mean Spaghettios. Make it with some cheap garlic bread, and dinner."
Catching the expression, he gave a silent chuckle to himself, before letting his gaze darted back down to the table. He wasn't necessarily rearing for another night of 7-11 microwave cooking himself, even if he missed convenience food during the past few months, but he'd always figured they'd done well for what they had at their disposal. At least it wasn't always complete junk.
"Oh, yeah, no thank you," he agreed to that statement. Then he shifted, putting his arm over the back of his chair as he leaned back. "I remember," he said with a warm smile. Or, rather, Baelfire remembered. Baelfire ate anything Emma made with no complaint and a smile on his face. His younger self may have gotten cozy and used to having a meal ready for every part of the day, but he was still just as polite as Mrs. Darling would have expected. He didn't snub anything. "And, if I recall, they are pretty good with an added handful of shredded cheese."
Emma tried not to make a noise. This was not the kind of food she should be feeding other people. Her habits were hers and putting them onto Henry and Baelfire (and even Killian) set a really bad example. Why was parenting so hard?
"I guess so, but it's still over processed junk food. Maybe I'll make something not from a can or a box more often." That meant looking through recipes and digging through books to find things she thought she could actually make. She didn't have the patience for a lot of the stuff, and chopping things like a chef? Forget about that.
Though she didn't say it, there was no getting away from the memories of his last moments. Walking in the forest, looking for Gold. Finding out what had happened. Neal dying in her arms. It was hard to think about, and seeing his face brought everything back ten-fold. Her voice was mostly jovial as she added, "Give it a couple days? Then come by for dinner? I've gotta get time to dig through Pinterest."
Neal raised an eyebrow at the statement. He didn't mind the junk food. After years of having to hunt and gather, whether in the actual jungle or the urban one, he wasn't going to complain about the sodium counts or preservatives in a can of campbells soup. At least, if someone was gifting him with a meal. He tried to eat better himself in the years he'd spent in New York. Tamara had gotten him eating organic for a period.
He never cared for that but then again it all circled around to his refusal to complain. He ate the kale and made faces about it at the office, when he'd raid vending machines for fritos.
"Couple days," he found himself repeating and though he wished he hadn't, there was no denying where his mind was. He didn't know if he'd be there in a couple days. But he didn't want to tackle that. Instead, he nodded. "Hey, if you're going to sift through pinterest, I'm going to eagerly await."