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A Home (final installment)

10 Things Emma Swan Never Had (and now she does) 
Previous parts (though all can be read independently)

Summary: The title pretty much says it all. I’m planning 10 of those, all Emma centric. Also on FF.net
Rating: Raising the rating to a M because, frankly, this one is all about sex (with some heavy emotion thrown in there). Hope you enjoy it!
Word Count: ~3 500

A/N: So here it is. I just wanna say that this has been one of my favourite things to write and certainly the most emotional one. If you enjoyed the ride half as much as I did, I couldn’t ask for anything more. Thank you!


She parks her car in front of the garage, eyeing the gate like it’s a wild bull ready to charge her. The staring contest continues for a full minute before she sighs, deciding that she is indeed too lazy to get her car in and kills the engine. She reaches over to the passenger seat, grabbing the bags full of Chinese (it’s Friday so Emma can let it slide and promise herself that she’d do some baking during the weekend because it’s been awhile and she likes the smell of flour and eggs in her kitchen and the sight of Liam trying to help and ending up with melted chocolate all over his nose and fingertips and she knows how copious amounts of chocolate affect Killian).

“Mm, yes, definitely chocolate soufflés tomorrow.”

She got out of jail a month ago and here she is, with nothing but the clothes on her back and the yellow bug parked in front of the coffee shop she is sitting in, seeking refuge from the cold February weather.

Emma wraps her arms around her cup of hot chocolate, which is a luxury in itself so she tries not to look at the display of different cakes and cookies and pies, gaze sliding to the table to her right against her will. The girl’s giggles and the boy’s sloppy kisses have been irritating her ears for the last half an hour and if it wasn’t fucking freezing outside, she would have left 29 minutes ago.

She feels an absolutely baffling combination of pity and envy as she watches them split a piece of chocolate cake between themselves. Going so far as to feed each other. Are those people for real?

She truly pities them, doesn’t even need to look at them really, she can tell them right now how it’s all going to end, how it always end. But she envies their delusion.

Sometimes she wishes she was still deluding herself too. Still believing that happily ever after existed, that there was a home out there waiting for her.

She crosses her lawn quickly, eyeing it critically and making a note to herself to have Killian or Henry cut the grass, depending on who gets on her bad side during the weekend.

It hits her out of nowhere. She has a lawn. A beautiful house with a huge green lawn and two amazing boys to torture with it when they get out of line and… she has a lawn, ok? Emma Swan never thought she would have a lawn. Ridiculous as that may sound to anyone else, she feels the full weight of it, settling comfortably in the pit of her stomach.

She’s lost in her head and maybe she’s not paying attention and thus has barely opened the front door when her son barrels into her, nearly knocking her over.

“Woah, kid!” the teenager promptly rolls his eyes at the endearment but doesn’t slow down, one foot already out the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out,” he mutters, shuffling his feet, obviously anxious to be gone.

She would be amused, if she wasn’t 100% in Mom Mode as Henry himself calls it. Looks like she had a candidate for the lawn already.

“Care to be a bit more specific?” she lifts an inquisitive eyebrow and her son rolls his eyes again.

Who the hell did he get that from? Oh, right. Nevermind.

“I’m meeting Grace and I’m already late,” he says, glancing exasperatedly at the phone in his hand.

“It will be dark soon.”

“Mom, I’m almost eighteen years old. Come on! Dad said I can go!”

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