Chapter Text
The looks he gets are unnerving.
The lights, the noise, and the shaking ground sent him into autopilot, barreling into Granny’s without a thought. He’s grown used to being stared at over the years, usually welcomed the attention, the gazes trained on him either in admiration or well-earned fear, but this –
He expected shock. Perhaps even a bit of fear; he’s a dead man as far as everyone is concerned, but something about the prince’s words – we thought we left you –
– it stings. It shouldn’t, he knows, it was his choice to stay, to send Emma up that elevator, but.
But.
He doesn’t miss the flash of rage in the Queen’s eyes once the initial surprise wears off. He knows, doesn’t blame her one bit, wants to tell her that he of all people understands how she feels, wants to –
(knows that he of all people understands that words at a time like this feel hollow and useless, knows that grief and rage can be all-consuming and you simply can’t be talked out of it, knows that she’s raw and broken and he’s the last man she wants to see)
(knows that he shouldn’t feel the burn of guilt creeping up his face or the racing of his heart, Gods he never thought he’d feel that again)
(clings to the tiny smile on his love’s face, the only person who isn’t looking at him like he shouldn’t be here)
– he swallows down his words and watches as the Queen leaves with a withering look, Emma taking a beat before following her, squeezing his arm and looking helplessly at him as she goes.
And he stands there, feeling small and stupid and everyone is still staring, open-mouthed and dumbfounded.
“Right,” he finally says, speaking to the floor. “I should go.”
He’s barely started to turn to the door when a body collides with him with even more force than Emma in the cemetery, nearly taking him off his feet as he stumbles backwards and grips at the figure whose arms are wrapped firmly around his midsection.
His grips even tighter when he realizes it’s Henry.
He takes another breath and holds on, another piece of home falling into place.
*