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Emma Swan finally found her fairytale (lostfairytale) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2013-11-22 23:59:00

Who: Graham and Emma
What: Angsty girlfriend is reunited with tortured boyfriend. Feels commence
When: ALSO backdated, last one from me, I swear!
Where: Hospital. :(
Warnings: References to violence and torture. Also...adorableness.



It was over and done and both Graham and John Watson had been found and rescued. It had all gone down mostly according to plan and Emma was trying to wrap her head around that. That wasn’t the way her life worked. She got hurt, she lost people, things happened. But Jim Moriarty had been bound by the laws of a demon and the knife had slipped through his skin far too easily for her liking and they’d just forget the little incident where she’d almost understood completely how easily Regina had fallen. She’d held it together. Not for Belle, though the beautiful girl’s pleading had stayed with her. She’d kept her composure for Henry. The idea of disappointing her son, of breaking his heart, broke her and pulled her back to herself.

Instead, they’d found the basement where her beautiful, stoic Huntsman had been held. He and John both were safe, they’d be all right. She’d seen the pain on his face, though, before he’d finally lost consciousness. And it terrified her.

She’d called to check on Henry and Aislinn, even though she knew there was no way anything could have happened to them. It was still too risky, still too much to worry about. Knowing they were okay, she made her way to Graham’s room, glaring at any nurse who might try and question her being there. She probably looked about as bad as she felt, all things considered. She should have someone come by with a change of clothes. There was a shower in the room, she could freshen up there. But she wasn’t leaving. Not until she was sure.

They said he’d be fine. He was only unconscious due to how long he’d been held, the blood he’d lost, the exhaustion, and the dehydration, to say nothing of the emotional torment. But she couldn’t leave him. Not when he needed her. Not when it was because of her that he was here.

She took the seat by his bed, pulling it closer and taking the hand not hooked to the IV in hers. The skin of his hand released a comforting warmth, a reminder that he was still very much alive. He was pale, yes, and his breathing was long and slow. But he was alive and after what he’d been through, all the threats Jim had made against him, it was all she could ask.

Her head rested lightly against the silver handrails keeping him safely in the bed. Her face turned to watch him sleep, and she knew she’d likely drift off, too. Once she’d known he was all right, she’d felt a huge weight lift off of her. She’d barely slept in days and hadn’t exactly slept peacefully before that. She was so tired and everything hurt, and she knew she’d still have visions of her former lover as a black-eyed demon when she closed her eyes, but she held firmly to the love of her life’s hand and closed her eyes, letting at least the comfort of knowing he was alive and safe wash over her.

For all her faults, he’d never once turned his back on her. She owed him this much.

Moriarty was not a very good host. To say the least. Four days. That was how long (he thought) Graham had been the guest of the demonic criminal genius. Time had become somewhat blurry, and he knew at one point Watson had been brought along too. The Huntsman was no fan of the other man, but that hadn’t made it easy to watch the suffering Moriarty inflicted. The demon had actually sulked over how predictable both men had been, refusing to let the other take on suffering to spare themselves, doing what they could to help each other.

And Graham had refused, point blank, to give Moriarty the satisfaction of breaking. Oh, there were attempts. So many of them. Goads about how Aislinn wasn’t Graham’s biological child, neither was Henry, about Emma in her future kissing Hook, how she had once loved Moriarty, Neal. Graham didn’t care about biology, as far as he was concerned Aislinn was his gorgeous little girl, and he loved Henry like his own. And his Emma had never even met Hook, so really, there was nothing to be jealous of there. Neal though, the knowledge that a part of Emma would always love her ex, that had stung a little bit. Just a bit, but Moriarty had seen it and been gleeful. And Graham really really did not like that man. Demon. Whatever.

When the cuts had happened, he had simply retreated into his own head, thinking instead of the way Aislinn smiled when he sang to her, or the way Emma tried not to laugh when he was being ridiculous, pressing her lips together even as her eyes sparkled. Happy thoughts. Maybe he was a bit of a fairytale character after all.

At first he had thought he was dreaming when he had seen her coming in to the basement, all defiance and determination. It was only when he realized she was real that he finally managed to smile with relief before promptly passing out.

As it turned out, he was unconscious for a few hours, unknowingly being taken to the hospital, set up with monitors and drips and all that medical stuff he didn’t know about and really didn’t have to worry about. He was quite happy being asleep for as long as his body wanted to be.

Awareness came back slowly, and was focused at first on the warmth around his hand. He tightened his grip a little as he opened his eyes and saw Emma, who looked even more beautiful than usual, even with the clear exhaustion. He had known, had had confidence that he’d see her again, but the reality of it was even better than the knowledge. He attempted a half smile as he looked down, wondering if she was actually asleep. “Hey.” His voice was soft, just in case she was, not wanting to wake her when she so clearly did need to rest.

Years in foster care and the following years on the run had led her to being a very light sleeper. So even though she’d drifted off, she began to stir at the grip on her hand. When she heard the softly accented voice, her eyes fluttered open and she saw him, really saw him for the first time in days. And though it may have only been four days, it had felt like a lifetime. When she hadn’t been able to explain to an infant why Daddy wasn’t home. When Henry gave her that look that said everything was going to be okay but he just couldn’t be sure. When she’d walk around the house and expect to see him and instead met the helpless expressions of her friends and family. Those hours had ticked into days which had ticked into an eternity, not knowing if Jim would bother keeping him alive or not.

So meeting those crystal blue eyes meant her final burst of relief, of knowing that he was okay. And that was all she needed. Her free hand reached up to lightly touch his cheek, the less damaged of the two. He was bruised and beaten, cut in that distinctly Moriarty style. But he was whole and he would heal and she couldn’t have asked for anything else under the circumstances.

“Hi,” she replied, and then she didn’t try and contain it. She leaned over the bed, kissing him softly. The lightest brush of lips, terrified of hurting him. But she needed the contact. And, more so, she needed to remind him how much she loved him. Because she wouldn’t blame him for doubting that after everything he’d been through. “How are you feeling?” Like hell would’ve been an appropriate if ironic response.

In truth, she’d been grateful he hadn’t been there for the moment she’d done what had to be done. Obviously he’d figure out something had happened. She was no longer on a Kill the Demon Ex-Boyfriend rampage, after all. But she was still having a hard enough time coming to terms with it herself, let alone letting others in on it.

After days of roughness, the feeling of soft kisses and light touches were exactly what Graham needed, and a relaxed smile began to grow on his face. When she kissed him, he kissed her back, just as lightly, even though he wanted to cling onto her tightly. That would have to wait until later, when he felt less exhausted. But he did do what he could manage, pulling her hand up so he could kiss it, a slightly firmer one as his grip became more sure on hers. That physical reminder that she was there, and he was alive and that meant they were going to be alright.

“Where are the kids? They’re safe, right? They’re okay?” He asked the important questions before he could even think of forming an answer for hers. Logically, he knew that if they were anything but fine, it would be a very different Emma sitting with him, but he still needed to hear her say the words, say they were both safe and with Lois or Belle or David. Because then he’d be able to actually truly relax.

“I feel like I got into a fight with a truck.” There was a faintly wry smirk on his face. “And the truck won.” With his free hand, he waved away any concern, albeit gently so as not to dislodge the IV. “I’ll be fine. Nothing I can’t heal from.” It had all hurt like a bitch, he wasn’t going to try to claim otherwise, but what mattered was he would be fine. Unlike getting his heart torn out by magic, or cursed, or other such things, cuts and bruises would heal and fade away in time.

In the meantime, he had a girlfriend to worry about, and he frowned faintly as he looked at Emma, really looked at the tiredness that seemed to be all over her. “How are you feeling? And is Watson okay? And Juliet, she was with me at the swimming pool, she’s alright?” He had other questions. Like how had they found him, how had they gotten him free, and just what the hell had happened to Moriarty? And Graham did want to get all the questions out, in a tumbling mass of confusion, but he limited himself to the main ones first. The welfare of his kids, how the woman he loved was handling things, and if anyone else was hurt.

She knew he had questions and he’d get his answers, too. But she needed a moment just to close her eyes and accept the fact that his lips were on hers. That he was kissing her hand, holding it tightly in his own. Optimism ran through the Charmings with an intensity she couldn’t quite grasp. But it had skipped a generation with her. To an extent. Oh, she understood hope and faith and trust. But it was taking far too long for her to grasp it. This was a girl who’d been raised thinking no one in the world had loved her. The first time someone claimed to, he’d hurt her so badly she thought she’d never come back from it.

And the second time… Well. Now he was shattered into oblivion somewhere, never to hurt her or her loved ones again.

Both of those men had fathered a child of hers but neither of them could be the dad that lay in the bed next to her. “They’re fine,” she reassured him, her thumb running lovingly over his fingers. “I just called home, Henry’s reading a book and Aislinn is watching some ridiculous children’s show with horrible music, from what I heard in the background. They both miss you, though.” And they did. The worst was the baby, who didn’t handle change well which was hard enough in a world powered by the Seal. But she couldn’t explain to an infant why Daddy was gone, and she’d never tell her that it was the man who’d fathered her that had hurt him.

In typical Emma fashion, she skimmed over the bit about her. “John is fine. About the same shape as you… I don’t know why he was keeping him alive, but he did. And Juliet is okay. She’s the one who told us…” Her voice broke off. She couldn’t say it. It just made it more true. That he’d been gone and it had been her fault. The child’s words, spoken as only Jim Moriarty could have. It all sent a shiver down her spine.

As soon as she said the children were alright, Graham felt the last tension remaining in his body melt away. They were safe. Everything else could be handled. And he couldn’t help but smile slightly. “She’s probably watching that show with the bright creatures that jump around and I really don’t get it, personally, but she seems to like it.” Children’s television was just weird, and sometimes he thought the people who wrote it were on drugs of some kind. “I miss them too. Don’t suppose there is any word on when I can get out of here and see them, is there?” Like any sane person, he didn’t love hanging around in hospitals at the best of times, but especially when what he wanted to do was hug the kids, and see them with his own eyes. Make up for four days without seeing them.

And it was good news about the other two. Graham had been concerned about Watson, and his dubious mental state at the best of times, so at least he was still able to be in a place to physically heal up. And he didn’t want Juliet to be back in hospital quite so quickly. He didn’t miss the way her voice broke, and his fingers tightened around hers again. “It doesn’t matter. What she had to tell you, why he kept us alive. We’re in one piece, that’s the main thing.” Really, he knew that Moriarty had kept them alive to make the suffering last. So confident he had been that no one could rescue them. Graham wasn’t entirely sure where that confidence had come from, but from what he had been told of the man turned demon, the confidence didn’t come from nowhere.

“Don’t think I didn’t miss the bit you didn’t answer.” He gave Emma a look, one that was both scrutinizing and telling her that he wasn’t fooled. “How are you feeling? Honestly?” Because even the bits he knew about, the fact Moriarty had been in town, the fact he had been taken, those had clearly taken a toll. Add to that the fact there was clearly more to the story Graham didn’t know, and he was worried about Emma.

“Give it a couple of days before you try and go charging home,” she said quietly, her fingers linking through his. “You need plenty of fluids and possibly a transfusion, they wanted to wait till you were a bit stronger to decide that.” It really was a miracle he hadn’t been hurt more than he’d been. After what had happened to Irene Adler-in both this world and that alternate world they’d seen-she wouldn’t have been surprised to find her boyfriend ripped to shreds. And so help her, she’d have loved him anyway. So long as he was alive.

That sort of love was still new to her. She’d loved Neal with everything she’d had, in a young idealistic way only a girl who’d never truly known love before could. And Jim… Well. She’d fought so long and so hard to put her first love behind her that it was a bit like doing it all over again. She’d been so alone in the world for so long, and he’d put her on a pedestal, turning her into the princess she was by birth.

But Graham… The love she felt for him and from him was like fuel to her. She could keep going, she could face anything Lawrence threw at her, so long as he was by her side. And Moriarty had known her well enough to know that. Take that away, maybe she wouldn’t have the energy to fight back when he went for her soul. But Emma was a changed woman. It was no longer the confused and helpless young woman who’d found him in the park he was dealing with. And she’d proven it, too.

So she shrugged her shoulders, dropping her gaze to the sheets between them. “Graham, stop. Don’t fuss over me, okay? I’m fine. I’m alive and my soul is mine to keep and frankly, that’s all that matters right now.” The paranoia she’d displayed over the past several weeks, the constant fear that had run through her, all of that could pass now. She could sleep again, Henry could go back to school. It would be fine. Really.

He made a slight face at the idea of being stuck in the hospital for a couple of days, almost giving the impression of a sulky teenager wanting to go out and play, not a grown man who had been held captive for days. But as much as he wanted to protest that he was fine, and totally able to go home, Graham suspected it would not exactly go well for him if he tried. And Emma looked too tired to deal with him being overly stubborn. “A couple of days,” he conceded. “I can deal with that. Any chance of sneaking the kids in?” He almost added ‘like last time’ before that thought made him want to scowl. Twice in hospital in a relatively short time. Terrible luck.

But he suspected that between her determination and his pleading looks, the nurses would let the kids in a bit at least. Because damn, he wanted to see them. Wanted to cuddle his baby girl, wanted to see Henry smile. That was one area Moriarty had utterly failed in, Graham didn’t care about DNA. Aislinn Swan would never be Aurora Moriarty, he was her dad, not that demon bastard. Nothing could ever make Graham doubt that. And while he wouldn’t try to push Neal out of Henry’s life if he was ever returned to Lawrence, that didn’t mean he loved the kid any less. They were his family, the first human family he had ever had, along with the woman he loved so much her kiss had broken two curses on him.

“I love you, I’m allowed to fuss a bit,” he offered her a crooked smile, even as her gaze dropped. “I’m pretty sure there are rules somewhere about that.” He didn’t miss her word choices though. Her soul was her own. “He’s dead, isn’t he.” It wasn’t really a question. There was no other way she could have found him and Watson, Moriarty had been extremely thorough in arranging precautions to keep them hidden. And really, Graham wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the idea. Mostly relief, definitely. Moriarty needed to die, needed to be utterly gone from their lives, before he could hurt Emma, Aislinn or Henry. But Emma was clearly dealing with a lot, and that always just made Graham want to wrap her in his arms and take all the pain away.

Emma gave a little smile of her own. “I think I’ve already scared half the nurses here. I’m sure they’ll let them in, even if for just an hour or two.” And frankly, the idea filled her with a warmth she’d been afraid she wouldn’t ever feel again. Her children, her bright-eyed son and her rosy-cheeked daughter, back in the arms of the man she loved so much it frightened her. It was having a family, and that was almost terrifying if she let it consume her. That had been part of Jim’s plan, she knew, but that didn’t make it any easier.

And then Graham asked the question that sent that all too familiar chill down her back. She released his hand, feigning the need to get more comfortable in the stupid hospital chair, but really she didn’t want him feeling her limbs shaking. “He’s dead,” she confirmed, giving nothing more than a firm nod. Her face stayed neutral, afraid that any show of emotion could be taken the wrong way. She’d known what needed to be done the moment he’d come back to Lawrence. This wasn’t a good demon, like Ruby, or even a sort-of-good one, like Crowley. Jim hadn’t even been a relatively good person during his life. In death, he was just as cruel and with the power of Lucifer to back him.

The knowledge that he’d made his deal directly with Lucifer while he’d still been alive, while she’d still been with him… It merely reminded her yet again that she was the reason the man in the bed had been so badly injured. And she pressed her lips into a thin line and ignored his eyes. She didn’t know what else to say beyond that.

Graham actually looked a little impressed. “You’re so gorgeous when you’re being determined.” And stubborn. And scaring nurses, especially if it got him visiting time with his children. It saved him from bringing out the pleading eyes and trying to negotiate with nurses while eating jello through a straw or whatever it was the hospital would try to give him as food this time. “An hour or two with the kids would be great.” There was a pause as he looked thoughtful. “Think smuggling in some decent food would be pushing it?” He didn’t think he was on any sort of diet or something, but still, you could never tell with doctors.

His hand felt oddly cold when she released it, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her. Really watched, the way her face settled into that mask and she shifted in the chair. So, Moriarty was dead. Graham didn’t say ‘good’, even though frankly it was. Moriarty needed to die. He wasn’t someone who could be locked up, and redemption was out of the question. Any remote chance he had had as a human was most certainly gone as a demon.

But still, death was never something to celebrate, even his. And as much as there was a part of Graham, the territorial part that was all testosterone and protectiveness, that had wanted to beat Moriarty senseless, he didn’t regret not getting the chance to. Plus, Emma had loved the man once. Loved him, lost him, grieved for him and hated him, all in an incredibly complicated package that Graham knew he couldn’t understand. He doubted anyone could really. He didn’t judge Emma for loving Moriarty once, he never had. Love could make people do strange things, and in the end Emma had made the right choices and walked away from a relationship that ultimately would have destroyed her. Graham chose to be grateful for that part.

So he didn’t ask Emma if she was okay. Of course she wouldn’t be. Moriarty had died again. And he figured Emma would be feeling a whole load of emotions and grief might even be one of them. All Graham wanted to do was make things better for her. “So he can’t hurt anyone else.” Which was true. No one expected her to be okay with the death, or to feel good about it, but without Moriarty around, people were safer. “Aislinn and Henry are safe, that’s the most important thing.” He tried to meet her gaze, even as she avoided him. “I love you. Never doubted for a moment you’d find me.”

Despite the seriousness of their conversation, she had to smile at his compliment. The sweet, goofy things he'd say were only half the reason she loved him, but they didn't hurt at all. "I'll see what we can do about food." His stomach was bound to be weak, given the last time he'd eaten. Baby steps. The goal was to get him healthy and home as soon as possible. Then he could enjoy Belle's cooking instead.

She knew in her heart she'd done the right thing. Her head knew it, too. So why did she still feel so off? It wasn't even a human being she'd killed. He'd been a demon, and one hell bent on killing everything she loved and then her, too. But their past history couldn't be denied. Her baby daughter was all the proof anyone needed. And despite everything, it had still been hard to do.

"I couldn't. Not at first. I tried. We all tried. He'd...you guys were pretty well hidden." It killed her, but there'd been no other way. Jim should have known that was his first mistake. Emma Swan didn't like feeling helpless, and she'd have torn apart Heaven and Hell to prevent feeling that way. "I'm...I'm sorry." The words were quiet, her eyes still avoiding his. His soothing words only hurt her more. She'd nearly lost him.

Well, maybe a bit of decent food, if asked for very nicely. Graham could deal with that, and focus on the idea of Belle’s cooking when he was finally released. Even hospital food would taste better than an IV sticking whatever it was straight into his veins. Not that he was complaining, Graham imagined he’d be in a lot of discomfort if it wasn’t for that.

The apology from Emma both took him by surprise and broke his heart. “Hey, look at me,” he tried again to catch her gaze, shifting as much as he could in the bed. “You have nothing to apologize for. You hear me? Not a thing. He bragged, you know. That we were hidden, magic involved, that you’d never find us. But I knew you’d never give up.” That knowledge had helped him just so much. Knowing that if Emma was never going to give up looking for him, he was going to make damn sure he never gave up being alive and waiting for her. He hoped it had driven Moriarty that little bit more insane, the fact he had refused to break or give up hope.

Now though he just wanted to take away Emma’s pain. Wrap her in his arms and make it all okay again with a hug and a few whispered words. Okay, so the hug part was out, for now at least, sitting upright being something of an issue, but the words he could do, and keep doing as long as she needed. “So, see, I was right and you found me. And I’m going to be fine, I really am.” He still had ten fingers, ten toes, all other body parts attached. The scars would fade and become distant memories, because she had found a way to get past Moriarty’s magic. “Don’t blame yourself for any of it, love.”

She didn’t deserve him. This man, this wonderful, hopeful, optimistic man deserved so much more than her. She’d known that the moment she’d seen him in Lawrence, leaning against the Beatle, six months pregnant and still mostly hating the world. He’d been fresh from death, Regina’s work still obvious in his confusion and the new onslaught of memories he’d been facing. If only she’d believed sooner, if she’d listened when he’d tried to get her help, he may never have had to die at all.

Now...now he had to deal with her past. He’d faced it head on, and that wasn’t fair. This wasn’t Neal, who had hurt her and left her but she’d mostly still been in tact. Jim had hurt so many people and if she’d only acted sooner, it would never have happened. Admittedly, she still didn’t feel too badly about Irene Adler. She refused to blame herself for a woman who’d dug her own grave. But the others… Her stomach churned slightly as she finally met her boyfriend’s gaze.

God, she loved him. It was an intense feeling she thought she’d never feel again. Only amplified because he loved her kids, too, and could she ever have asked for more than that? “It isn’t that…” Her voice drifted slightly and she’d have given anything to be anywhere but there. Emma didn’t do...feelings. Honesty and emotions. It was all still new and raw to her. “I know how many ways he tried to stop us from finding you. You to taunt over me and John… Well. We all know he wanted him dead.” She swallowed the lump in her throat that again blamed herself. Her relationship with John Watson was shaky at best but they’d come a long way. Now, who knew what sorts of setbacks there were. “Graham, if it hadn’t been for me, he never would have noticed you. You’re only in this because of me.”

Graham couldn’t try to deny that if it wasn’t for Emma, Moriarty would never have bothered to notice him. He was nothing to the criminal mastermind, just a way to get to the woman he loved. So he didn’t try to insult them both by claiming otherwise. But he could and would try to convince Emma that if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be anything at all.

“Do you know what would have happened to me here if it wasn’t for you? And Henry and Aislinn?” He sounded completely calm and he was. Expression and tone both settled and genuine. “The moment Regina arrived here, I would have lost myself to revenge. Hunted her down, maybe killed her, probably died in the process. I would have had nothing to stop me, nothing to live for. I wouldn’t have wished for my heart back, wouldn’t have built a life or a family or cared about anything other than seeing her dead. You saved me from all that. Because of you, I have the chance to be something more than what she did to me.”

Being with Emma had given him life for the first time. And freedom, the freedom to choose his own fate. Graham knew that if he had wanted to walk away from the woman with two kids and a crazy ex, Emma would have let him. It was his choice to stay and to love her and the family he had with her. “I love you, I still love you, and none of this changes that. I knew what I was getting into when you first told me about him and I still wouldn’t change a thing.” He held his hand out, hoping she would take it again. “He doesn’t get to take away the best thing that ever happened to me. Falling in love with you, this is the first time I’ve truly been happy in my life. Both of my lives, technically.”

Nope. Nope, nope. She was not going to cry. She really hated crying and especially letting others see her do so, and for so long she almost never did. Growing up in the city, in a system that didn’t care where you were so long as they didn’t have to be legally responsible for you, crying was a weakness. It would get you beat up by the other girls or taken advantage of by the boys. So she didn’t. And Neal had left her too numb to cry, not even when she’d found out she was pregnant and alone and in jail.

After John had put that bullet in Jim’s heart, she’d cried for what felt like forever. Days, off and on, nothing but tears. Not only for the man she’d lost, but for the pain she’d caused, the guilt that ravaged her, and the knowledge that the baby girl she carried could turn out just like her father. And since then, she’d put all of that away. Numbing herself up again, only letting a few slightly hormonal tears slip out. That’s what she’d likely blame the welling up of tears on now. PMS or something, it had to be, because when he told her that she was the first thing to make him truly happy, how could she not? She’d never been anyone’s reason for being before.

She blinked back the moisture in her eyes rapidly, but did take the offered hand. She pressed it to her cheek, turning it to kiss his palm lightly. “I love you, too. I don’t know what the hell I did to earn someone like you coming along. For the things I’ve done, I should have to spend the rest of my life alone.” Not completely alone. She had her beautiful son and her gorgeous baby girl. But it wasn’t the same and everyone knew it. “I’m glad I don’t, though. You’ve made the last year and a half possible for me. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t around.”

He hadn’t meant to make her emotional, he was just being honest, honest with feelings, which he was new at, admittedly. But she had taken his hand, at least, and kissed it, and that made Graham smile, softly caressing his thumb over her cheek. “You shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself, love. So you’ve made mistakes, you’ve always admitted that. But everyone has. Every single person, and anyone who claims otherwise is lying. And you’ve never done things like Regina has, or Moriarty himself, focusing only on your own power or deliberately hurting others. You’ve got a good heart, Emma. You’ve been through so much, and you’re still a good person, still able to love, and be a mother who loves her children.”

It was a long speech, and a bit of a tiring one, and when he was done, he sagged back into the pillows a little, though still with the faint smile on his face. He’d meant all of it, knew that Emma was genuinely a good person. And not in that idealistic, fairytale way that the Charmings were. Graham couldn’t really understand how anyone could be that hopeful all the time. He himself could never manage it. No, Emma was good in a more realistic way, the human way of someone who had been hurt and yet was still standing. Still able to love. Even though she was so guarded, she could open her heart.

He could relate to that in a way he just couldn’t with the Charmings. The woman raised by the foster care system, and the man raised by wolves in the forest. Both alone in so many ways, brought together and made better people. “Clearly we work together,” he half smiled. “You keep me going, I keep you going. And not even a demon with one hell of a grudge can break that. No matter how much he tried.” So screw Moriarty, and his attempts. He had failed and they had won at the end, that was what mattered.

His voice, with that beautiful lilt of his, was soothing in the best of ways. She moved the chair closer, then, shifting to stroke his hair off of his forehead tenderly. “We’re one damn dysfunctional pair, Graham Hunt.” She didn’t know what to say. Somehow he knew what she needed to hear. Maybe it came with the Irish accent, the storyteller. Or maybe it was because of the fairytale thing. Regardless, when he wanted to get a point across, he managed better than most. She could listen to him all day long.

Among other things she could do. God, it was good to have him back.

“Comes out sounding like destiny when you put it like that,” she said with a forced laugh. Destiny was not something she believed in. Free will, choice. As she’d said to Jim, her soul should be hers to deal with, it was not his bargaining tool. And yet, she’d been born, destined to break the curse on Storybrooke. Her parents had been destined to end up together again. Everything had actually gotten where it was supposed to be. Maybe there was something to be said about destiny.

Especially if it meant she got to be with him. Her eyes looked him over yet again. Mostly, he just looked weak. But the scars were obvious, some so deep they’d been dressed. But it did seem Moriarty’s intentions had been to hurt him, not kill him. To cause pain. At least, for that moment. And she didn’t want to think ahead any further than that. “I’m just glad you’re all right,” she told him, dropping another soft kiss to his mouth.

He had to laugh slightly, because really, it was a very accurate statement. “I like to think of us as a more interesting pair. Unique wouldn’t be inaccurate either.” And yes, dysfunctional. But that wasn’t always a bad thing in life. At least they were aware of their dysfunction and able to admit it, so that made it okay. Graham leaned his head into her touch slightly with a smile, relishing in the softness and gentleness after days of harsh blows.

Ah, destiny. He did pull a face at the idea. “Destiny is more of a guideline anyway.” It could be changed, at least that was what he believed. Some might say it was destiny that he had met Snow White, that of all the children Regina could have adopted it was Henry. The whole always finding each other thing that the Charmings had. But even with all that, Graham didn’t believe anything was set in stone, not so permanently that it couldn’t be changed if someone tried hard enough. After all, in the classic versions of the fairytale, the Huntsman never got a happy ending, or any sort of ending at all really. Graham had defied that in Lawrence.

In some ways he was glad he hadn’t seen himself in the mirror since waking up. He could guess that he wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. He could feel the fabric of dressings against the deepest of the cuts, and there were bruises probably making his skin a rather interesting pattern of colors. But it would all fade in time. And with Emma there and kissing him, Graham felt free to relax, and feel safe again. “I’m fine.” And unlike most of the time when someone said those words, he actually meant it, and that came through in his tone. “Give me a couple of days, I’ll be good as new.”

Even Jim’s handiwork couldn’t make him less attractive in her eyes. Oh, he was good-looking, there was no denying that. Emma had chosen well. And had stuck to her ‘type’ this time around. Tall, dark, scruffy, and devastatingly handsome. But the fact was, he could’ve looked like Bob the Builder and she’d have likely fallen for him. He was so good to her, so gentle. The way he teased with Henry or cuddled with Aislinn just solidified everything for her. He was just this side of perfect and she loved him.

Oh, he had his faults. They both did, that much was obvious. He hadn’t exactly had your classic upbringing but hey, neither had she. And there were times he could still be stand-offish and distant but again, who was she to judge when she’d pulled away from everyone and everything at times? He had devoted himself one hundred percent to her and her family, making them his in almost every way possible. And she wouldn’t dare turn her back on him now, when he needed her.

So she smiled at his reassurances and touched her forehead gently to his. The bruises would fade, the scars would heal. He’d probably have some lasting reminders of his abuse, but if he still stayed with her despite them, it would mean a future could actually happen. And no matter how much Jim had tried to convince her that she’d end up alone, she had to hold on to that hope.

Hope was sort of a family trait, after all.

“I really do love you,” she confirmed, unnecessarily. “This family loves you. I’m just sorry I fought it for so long.” The realization that Jim could easily have killed the man because of her was a clear one. And she could have had lost time with him because of it. But it was all right. She’d make up for it now. She’d make sure he never had reason to doubt her.

There was never any intention for him to leave, not ever, and certainly not because of Jim Moriarty and his taunts and knives. If the demon had intended to scare Graham away from Emma, he had failed utterly. Graham didn’t blame Emma, never would, and was all the more determined to stay by her side for as long as she’d let him. Gorgeous, brave Emma Swan. The love of his life.

So he smiled as she leaned in that close, focusing on the softness of her skin, the light scent of her hair, and never wanting to be away from her for so long again. Thinking about her constantly had kept him going for those days, but actually being in her presence again was so much better. She made him stronger, better. Had done since the day she hurtled into his life, and he didn’t doubt she would continue to do so for the rest of their lives.

“I really do love you too, and this family. My family.” The family he had never had, never really felt he’d deserved before. “No need to be sorry. Not like either of us is exactly used to it all.” A faintly wry smirk appeared on his face before he reached up, tucking some of her hair back before he reached up slightly to kiss her. “We got here eventually, and you and me, and the kids, this is real. And I plan on keeping it.”