hunnyfresh - Letters from War

Henry hadn't noticed where Regina had walked from, so it gave Emma a moment to get her nerves together because she had already faced Regina, so how hard could seeing Henry be? But watching them hug, his face nestled in the crook of her neck with matching smiles so similar genetics be damned, Emma felt like she was walking into Storybrooke for the first time all over again, eager to make a good first impression.

Be cool. Be cool. She shook out her arms and took a step away from the car. Regina was patting Henry down, no doubt inspecting him for any cuts or bruises. Aside from a few stray leaves she found stuck in his hair, he was fine. She took his duffel from him and strapped it over her own shoulder as he held up what looked to be a keychain made out of twine. Regina held it and looked over the details in amazement, pride written all over her face as Henry explained animatedly how he had made it. She listened attentively and nodded along, and when she returned the keychain to him, Regina cupped a cheek in her hand and leaned her head in close. She must have been whispering about Emma because Regina's head tilted back, and Henry's eyes darted behind his mother to glance at the yellow-haired woman leaning against his car. Henry was squinting at her intensely now before he returned his gaze to his mother, and Emma felt the knot in her throat tighten. Emma was the hero of Henry's dreams. She was his Knight — fighting dragons and saving Queens, his superhero — invulnerable and indestructible.

But she came home broken.

Regina stood now, taking Henry by the hand as the crowd in the parking lot began to disperse once children were matched with their parents. Emma wasn't prepared for this moment. She wasn't ready to see the uncertainty in Henry's eyes. There was nowhere to hide now even if Emma wanted to. When they were less than five feet away, Regina slowed her pace and released Henry who continued his walk towards Emma. His head was tilted to the side, his eyebrows were furrowed, and his chin was crinkled in thought as he stopped just short of her.

"Hey," Emma said after clearing her throat. She got down on one knee to his eye level and chanced a glance up at Regina who was a foot away, smiling encouragingly. "Hey, Henry. Remember me?"

"Hi." He looked at her warily as if wracking his brain for a face that wasn't quite matching up to hers.

"You're a giant," Emma grinned, reaching her hand up to touch his shoulder, hovering for a second, before deciding against it and dropping her hand back to her knee.

He caught the movement and tilted his head at her right hand, his brow crinkling further. She almost wanted to hide it and shove her hand deep into her pocket, but instead she held it up for him. "Looks like the mothership wanted me to join their league of cyborgs."

He touched her hand, bringing it up so their palms touched. Slowly his fingers slipped between hers as they curled around her knuckles. "You got hurt."

"Yeah." She gave a watery smile as her fingers curled just the slightest bit around his.

His free hand reached out and innocently traced the scar running down from her eye curving down to her lip until his fingers cupped the underside of her jaw. "Did that hurt?"

"Yeah," she admitted quietly. "Not anymore though."

"You came back to us, Emma." The knot in Emma's throat tightened as his quiet voice rang loudly in her ears. The sting behind her eyes burned as a happy tear fell from the corner of her eye. She nodded profusely, his hand warm against her cheek as a smile split across her face.

"Yeah. I did."

His arms engulfed her in a millisecond. She nearly collapsed against his weight, but her body held firm against him as she just continued to nod. Her choked sob caught in her throat, but that didn't stop the tears from flowing as he wrapped around her neck with a vice-like grip repeating the same sentence over and over. " You're home, Mama . You're home."

Emma couldn't form words, only holding Henry tighter and nodding into his shoulder until Regina crouched beside them and rested her forehead against their heads in quiet agreement. "She's home."

Chapter 27

Chapter Notes

Disclaimer in Chapter One.

AN: So we've come to the end of this journey. So one year and 24 chapters later, this supposed three-chapter mini story turned into this monster. A special thank you to stable-girl who, without the prompt, wouldn't have inspired this story (Sorry that it took on a life of its own!) Thank you for everyone who has stuck by through its ups and downs, those who recommended, read, and commented on this story. I am forever in your debt. Without further ado…

Saturday May 10 2014 – New York City – Sheraton LaGuardia East Hotel Conference Room

"Mr. Booth, how do you handle the strikingly different opinions people have held about your book? Some call you bold for bringing to life a successful lesbian relationship while others prove not so nice. It's stirring up quite the controversy in various communities such as the LGBT and even the military."

August grinned when cameras flashed in the small conference room as he sat at a table on a raised platform, the cover of his book blown up and displayed proudly behind him. Most people in his life hadn't given much thought whenever August had said he was writing a book or doing extensive research. He was always "writing a book" and If he wanted to hole himself in his apartment for days on end and randomly spend weeks away from Storybooke, then who were the townsfolk to say that the nomad should stay put. But he had made it. Seeing his name in print as the author of the story that consumed him for years and having it be successful was too good to be true.

Almost.

He mulled over the question he had heard countless times during his book tour but gave a show of rubbing his chin, contemplating his next words. "It's fairly obvious I'm a man, but the controversy you're referring to is the fact that I'm a man writing about two women falling in love. I've heard all the arguments: typical guy writing a sexualized lesbian relationship—which, if I may point out, is not all that sexualized; straight man writing for a community that he has no right to be in; former military man betraying the system he's supposed to represent. What do I say to these? I say to those people to go ahead and read or re-read the story because as a writer, I'm just looking to tell the best possible story, and The Next Mile was that. There are issues addressed in the novel that most people either won't touch or refuse to acknowledge. Not only is it about a female in the army, but she also happens to like women. The layers within that open up a world not many people realize is even there, and given the opportunities presented to me as a straight, white, ex-military man that you and many others have referred to, I was able to bring them into the light. Should it have been someone else far more involved in either community? Most definitely.

"I have to admit, the potential backslash I'd receive once the public took a look at the author behind the book made me a little hesitant to move forward, but that was also the thing to push me in the right direction to make sure the world knows that the generic boy-meets-girl love stories come in all shapes and sizes and sexes. I am nowhere near being completely capable to write about two women in a loving relationship, but the essence of the story itself was one that needed to be told."

The reporter nodded graciously and sat back down, typing notes onto her iPad. Off to the side, August's agent Malinda, an uptight Trinidadian woman in a skirt suit, severe bun, and vintage glasses who was more put together than a certain Mayor he knew, motioned to her watch, a gift from August from his first royalty cheque because although she was strict, she was a total sweetheart. Leaning forward into the microphone, he gazed out into the crowd of reporters, photographers, fans, and hecklers and smiled apologetically. "I've got time for one more question."