Chapter Text
Emma came home one night with Henry She had taken him to the zoo and it had gotten entirely too late for them to stay out on a school night. It was a cool evening, and Henry rushed into their apartment behind her, anxious to get to his game console.
“Nuh uh mister, time to get ready for bed,” she told him.
He pouted at her and moaned, “Moooooom.”
“It's a school night, kid. Teeth and pajamas, pronto!” Emma said making a whirling gesture to the hall that contained both rooms.
After Henry was tucked away in bed, she began her own nightly ritual. Her hair was placed into her usual messy bun, her teeth brushed, and all of her dishes were washed,
She settled into her full sized bed, pulling her comforter over her shoulder contentedly. The last thing she saw was her alarm clock, the red letters marking the time.
It seemed to happen as soon as her eyes closed.
A face formed in her dreamscape, cutting through the white smoke of dream she had fallen into. It was a woman's round face. She was smiling. Her eyes were kind, filled with tears of joy, and with lips as red as the rose and hair as black as the raven.
Where did /that/ phrasing come from?
Another face formed next to hers. It was a strong male's face with a square jaw and slightly crinkling emerald eyes. His hair seemed to be the exact shade that curtained Emma's face every morning in the mirror. His arm wrapped protectively around the shoulders of the first woman's face. He smiled at her too.
The next face to appear beside them was a harsher one, but for some reason, one that she cared about. Dark black hair, cool calculating eyes, and blood red lips pursed, trying to hide the happiness she had at seeing Emma again appeared. Her hand was placed gently on Henry's shoulder. Emma watched in fascination as Henry looked at her with familial love in his eyes.
Another male face, weather beaten and cold eyes, graying hair, and thin, almost cruel lips appeared beside the harsher one. Which was almost tempered by the next face that immediately appeared, kind understanding eyes, long brown hair and pink lips that were made for telling the truth. They held hands, and only the woman smiled at her.
Clasped in the elder man's other hand was the shoulder of a man she already knew. Neal. He held his hands in his pockets grinning at her.
Something in Emma's mind whispered, “Family.”
But that couldn't be right.
Emma was an orphan. She didn't know her family. And she certainly didn't want to see Neal ever again.
She watched all these people she was sure she had never met wave at her in varying degrees of joy.
Then suddenly, apart from the group of people, another face began to form.
Hair jet black as the darkest night appeared above crystal blue eyes. Eyes that were usually made for piercing an enemy looked at her with such warmth, her heart almost couldn't bear it. A black eyebrow raised slightly, as a boyish smile appeared beneath an elegant nose. His full pink lips looked to be forming her name as he stuck out a hand with several rings on it, the other tucked playfully behind him. Almost as if he was asking her to dance.
A pain so sharp Emma almost woke, tore through her heart at the sight of all the people who were there for her.
The dark haired man's eyebrows knitted in concern as he walked forward to try and comfort her, but the closer he got, the worse the pain became.
Just as he was about to grab her hand, it looked as if he were trapped behind a glass barrier. He stared at it in confusion before tapping on it. He looked at Emma and grew frantic. He yelled to the people behind him and they rushed forward, trying to get to her, trying to help alleviate the pain she was in. They beat on the invisible glass to no avail.
Emma fell to her knees, and so did the man with black hair. He flattened his hand on the glass and looked into her eyes.
“There's not a day that will go by that I won't think of you,” he whispered.
It wasn't until she saw a glint next to him in the shape of what could only be described as a silver hook did Emma awake with a gasp.
The rest of the morning, try as she might, she could not remember anything from her dream, only knowing that it had taken a long time to get her heart back under control from it's constant attempts to jump out of her chest.
Eventually, she shrugged it off. It was a dream, and she had better things to do.