AU of BEING HAPPY, DAMMIT

[notinthebook]

She's got absolutely no idea what's going on.

Her head is throbbing, her heart is pounding, and she'd just helped Graham break into a grave -- isn't that the kind of thing she'd normally arrest someone for? -- but all she can concentrate on right now is the fact that they're alone in the office and she's just realizing that it's really sort of dark and cozy in here with the lights mainly off, and that his hand is gentle as he cleans up the cut on her forehead, and that she sort of feels like she's never really seen Graham before.

At least, she's never seen him with this accompanying feeling of terrifying happiness.

She's still watching him as he goes to put away the cloth he'd used, and he glances over at her, smiles, slightly, quizzical.  "What?"

She doesn't have a good answer for him.  It's all too complicated to put into words, but it boils down to one thing, one thought that keeps running around through her head, settling in her heart and making it race, making it feel full almost to bursting. 

He picked her.  He picked her.  She'd pushed him away and gotten mad at him and she hadn't come here to be anything other than a friend and a partner, but then he chose her and changed everything.  

When she gets up, she feels like she's moving underwater, but he waits for her, and she can feel her hand going to his shoulder like she's a person in a dream, feels his settle at her waist, and nerves make her smile, make her feel like she's sixteen years old and out in the world for the first time on her own, when she leans up to kiss him.

And it's so sweet, something she never thought she'd ever have for herself, though she doesn't understand the single tear that falls or the way he thanks her, making her smile, a helpless, hopeless, brilliant flash of a smile that cuts through the gloom they're standing in.

"Anytime."

Comments

[ahuntsman]

"Maybe," he allows, because she is right. He could have denied the truth. He could have decided to continue being Regina's pet if he chose the coward's way out.

He turns to stare up at the ceiling and takes a breath.

"But all of it? It wouldn't have happened without you.

"Emma, you're ... different. You're special."

[notinthebook]

She studies his profile, frowning slightly. "I'm really not."

Okay, different, she might give him. She's definitely still an outsider in this town, still new, still unusual in a lot of ways. But special?

Not really.

And the thought that maybe it really could have something to do with her is more than a little terrifying. It makes falling for him all the more inevitable, really.

"You'd have gotten out on your own. You seemed really unhappy/"

[ahuntsman]

"I was," Graham admits. "I meant it when I told you I don't feel anything when I'm with her."

Not the way he feels with Emma.

"But ... if it was all I knew, if I'd never had anything else - how would I have known to get out?"

[notinthebook]

"You must have had something else once," she prompts, gently.

Though who knows? It's not like she's ever had anything even like a decent relationship.

"I'm sure you would have done something sooner or later. I guess the important thing is you did, though, you know?"

She squeezes his hand gently, smiling a little in the dark.

[ahuntsman]

"You're right."

Graham responds in kind, squeezing back.

"And from now on, there won't be anymore Regina."

Not where he's concerned.

"And no more living through what used to be a hazy fog of ... half-memories."

[notinthebook]

"I like the sound of that."

She's still there, of course, and she still has Henry, but one thing at a time.

"You really couldn't remember things before?"

He'd said, earlier, that he remembers, that he remembers everything, whatever that means, and she's got no clue what's going on in his head, but right now, she's more than willing to listen.

It's not like she doesn't know what it feels like to live a kind of half-life, never really connecting, never really touching or affecting anything around herself.

[ahuntsman]

"No," Graham says.

He frowns in the dark.

"I only remembered what Regina wanted me to remember. It was like ... walking around with selective amnesia, only I wasn't the one controlling what I could and couldn't remember."

He turns his head to look at Emma again.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's true."

[notinthebook]

"I don't think I understand."

She's not really getting it enough to say whether it's ridiculous or not. "How could anybody else decide what you remember? They're your memories...aren't they?"

That last comes out a little small, a little uncertain. She's not sure what to believe anymore, but he's not rambling or desperate anymore, so maybe he can explain it to her.

[ahuntsman]

Graham takes a breath.

Knowing what he does now, and knowing the sort of town Storybrooke is, the sort of world this is ...

Well, what he's about to say is going to sound insane.

"It's ... Regina.

"They are my memories, yes, but what I remember? It's what she wanted me to remember. The rest of it, she covered up and made us all forget. She isn't at all what she seems. She isn't just the Mayor of Storybrooke.

"She's a witch, too."

[notinthebook]

Whatever she was expecting him to say, it isn't what actually comes out of his mouth. There's a soft, whispering sound of sheets rustling against each other as she moves to lie on her side, looking at him with bewilderment on her face.

"Seriously? You're buying into Henry's whole curse idea?"

He's the only one making any sense. That's what Graham had said earlier, but he was sick and confused, and...he can't be saying it's true, can he?

"I mean, I'm not Regina's biggest fan, but I hardly think she's an evil queen."

[ahuntsman]

Graham shakes his head, moistening his lips.

"I know it sounds insane," he says, "but now that I remember everything that happened - everything I used to be ... it's not."

He isn't sick or confused anymore. Everything is so clear, it could have been just yesterday that he was known as The Huntsman when he struck a deal with Regina, only to betray her later.

"It's the truth, and Henry's right. Henry's been right this whole time.

"Regina is the Evil Queen.

"And I was her prisoner."

[notinthebook]

She watches him for a long moment, studying his face. She knows Graham pretty well, about as well as you could hope to know someone you met and started working with only a few weeks before, and she's never seen him indulge in even the slightest flight of fancy. There didn't seem to be a whimsical bone in the man's body, not counting his fondness for quips and teasing her, but all of a sudden he's telling her the curse is real?

It doesn't make sense.

"It sounds insane because it is insane," she says. She's not trying to argue, if anything, she's looking for clarification, the one explanation that will make all of this make sense.

Her free hand settles on his chest, rests there. Her eyes are full of uncertainty.

He's not lying, and she's not leaving.

"I mean, I can understand it in a metaphorical sense, but...you honestly want me to believe that you're a character from a fairy tale?"

[ahuntsman]

Graham places a hand over hers, drawing strength and reassurance from her touch when she could very easily just grab her things and go.

(It's because of her that he remembers.

Henry was right about that, too.

She's the Saviour.)

He is quiet for a moment, thoughtful. He isn't sure there's a good way to explain it, or if there's a way at all that won't end up with her suggesting he book a few sessions with Dr Hopper after this.

He's never been more sure of anything until tonight. Of Emma, and his identity.

This is who he is.

"If you could," he says, "just for one minute. For sixty seconds, just ... believe that I could be."

[notinthebook]

His hand is warm and steady and his eyes are clear and level and his voice is soft but certain in the dark. He sounds a whole lot more certain than she does, and she knows that's probably just because he's started believing in Henry's delusion, but...she knows Graham.

He's not delusional.

"It's kind of a lot to ask," she admits, a wondering whisper in the dim room.

For him, though...for him and for Henry, she wants, for a wild second, nothing more than to try. It's crazy, but this whole thing is crazy. "Who are you supposed to be? Did Henry tell you?"

[ahuntsman]

There's a nod in the dark and a small exhale of ... something like relief, perhaps.

"Henry told me everything I needed to know," Graham says. "You know the story of Snow White, I assume?

"How the Evil Queen hired a Huntsman to kill her and bring back her heart?

"Only, when the time came, he just couldn't do it. Snow White proved to him that she had a pure heart and that goodness must be spared.

"That Huntsman? That's ... me."

[notinthebook]

"I know that he thinks Mary Margaret is Snow White," she says, carefully. "But I can't say the story in his book is exactly like the one I remember."

For example, Snow White and Prince Charming having a kid.

And that kid being her.

She listens, and though her frown doesn't go away, she doesn't pull her hand back, either.

She can feel his heart beating against her palm, and it calms her like nothing else she knows can.

"So...you saved Snow White. And got...imprisoned because of it?"

[ahuntsman]

"No, the stories aren't exactly the same," Graham agrees. "But if they were, it wouldn't be life, would it? 'Happily Ever After's' aren't exactly easy to come by, no matter what world we're in."

He tightens his hold over her hand ever-so-slightly, so he could remind her of the pulse of his heart, and remind himself as well.

"Regina wasn't very happy that I'd betrayed her. You've seen what she's like without magic. Imagine her with some.

"She took my heart, Emma. She ripped it out of my chest and put it in a box."

[notinthebook]

"I thought that was the point of stories," she says, soft. "To have happy endings, because they sure don't come along in life all that often."

Or ever, in her experience, but though she's not quite sure what to make of this conversation, she doesn't really want to totally derail it.

Not right now, at least.

"So when you were looking for your heart..."

He's been so frantic, looked so lost. All she'd wanted was to help him find whatever it was he'd been looking for.

Nothing's changed since then.

"You think it's here, somewhere? How could she still have it here if she brought everybody from some enchanted fairy tale land?"

[ahuntsman]

"I don't know," Graham admits. "I don't know how magic works, and I certainly don't know how Regina's magic works.

"Or the Curse."

He exhales.

"All I know is that I've got all of my memories back, and I can feel again ... and I don't know if that means the curse doesn't work on me anymore, or what."

[notinthebook]

She's quiet for a long moment, her thoughts stuttering and starting and getting sidelined again.

It's a lot to believe, even for Graham, even when she knows it's too late to do anything but recognize the fact that somewhere tonight, she fell for him and there's no going back to denying it.

Which doesn't necessarily preclude the possibility of him being nuts.

"So do you...feel like a different person, now, or something? You're back to being the Huntsman?"

[ahuntsman]

"I'm still me, Emma," Graham assures her.

He lifts her hand up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to her palm. But there's a serious intensity to his gaze.

She needs to trust him. He needs her to believe him, for the Curse and her role to play, sure, but for him as well.

(Because, like Emma, he's fallen for her too - and the thought of losing her because of all this is a little too much to bear.)

"I've always just been me, only now ... I know everything that happened and not just the memories I have here in Storybrooke."

[notinthebook]

She smiles, slightly, at the assurance, and again at the kiss. His breath is warm and the ever-present scruff tickles her palm, but she lets her fingertips trace a gentle line over his jaw before he lifts her hand away. "That's good to know."

It's him she cares about, after all, whoever he thinks he is, whether he's remembering some other life that she's not sure she completely believes in or if he's just confused or if he's the same charming, friendly sheriff she'd first met when she got here.

She shifts, settling her head against the pillow a little more comfortably, eyes meeting his, and she's uncertain, but she's trying. She wants to understand.

"Look, I don't know what to believe. Snow White? Fairy tales and evil queens? It's kind of a lot to accept, and if I believe you, then...I have to believe what Henry says about me, too, and I just don't know if I can handle that. I will say that there are a lot of...weird things about this town. Things I can't explain."

She searches his face. "And I know you're not lying. I do believe that."

[ahuntsman]

"Okay."

Graham nods, closes his eyes for a second, then opens them again.

It is a lot to accept; he agrees. After everything he knows about Storybrooke, about how magic-less this realm really is ... how can he expect her to readily accept everything he's told her without at least giving it some time?

Before he kissed Emma, before he saw those visions and that wolf approached him, would he have believed Henry if he told him he was the Huntsman?

"You gave me sixty seconds, right? That's what I asked for."

[notinthebook]

That gets another press of a smile.

"You're being pretty reasonable for someone who just got back a bunch of their memories," she points out. It's almost like the way she's always teased him, and that's as comforting as his warm weight in the bed right next to her.

"That wasn't so bad. Maybe we can build it up gradually. Try a minute and a half next time."

Getting rewarded with his kisses or smiles or more time together seems like a pretty good deal to her.

[ahuntsman]

"A minute and a half sounds good," Graham says with a little bit of a laugh.

He can go with that.

He shifts again so he's lying closer to Emma, close enough to gather her in his arms and simply hold her, to ground him to everything happening right now.

She knows about him. She might not believe it yet, but she knows. And that's an important first step.

"Thank you for listening."

Thank you, he thinks, for everything.