Once Upon a Time One Shots and Shorts! (Requests Open)

Sunday Morning (Swanfire)

"Emma..." He whispered, the name rolling off of his tongue like it was his own. He knew it so well, wanted it more than anything. He wanted her beside him, her body pressed against his, her face nuzzled in his bare chest and his fingers lingering over the heat of her skin as he drew circles into her back. He wanted her lips against his. The thrill of the chase as she drove like a maniac, their palms pressed together, fingers intertwined.

He missed her so much.

5 months had passed since he'd let them have her. Until he had betrayed her. He wondered how she felt, how she would look at him if she ever found him again. He wondered if he could ever be forgiven, or if he even deserved forgiveness. He knew down in his heart that she was in no way entitled to forgiving him. He had let them take her. She was doing prison time. 11 months, as best as he could figure. But still, the thought of running with her, running away to wherever they felt, running away to where no one would find them, where no one would know their names... It was a beautiful thought.

And a painful one.

He knew that he couldn't have it. He knew that he couldn't have her. He knew that his lips could never graze hers again. He knew that his hands could never lock with hers again. He knew that he wouldn't wake up to her bright eyes watching him as he slept, just before she pushed him out of bed and told him to go fix breakfast, which would undoubtedly be gas-station powdered donuts and Coke, because that's what it always was... But she was there and that was all that had mattered. That had been all that ever mattered to him.

"Nathan. Nathan!" A voice yelled, piercing his ears violently through the hangover.

"It's Neal." He groaned.

He looked up to find his most recent one night stand. Her makeup was smudged over her eyes and there were bruises over her neck that weren't there the night before. Her blue eyes looked red and her blonde hair was a frizzy mess. He'd been after all the blue-eyed blondes he could find, hoping he could find someone like her. But Emma Swan seemed to be the only one like her. She was one in a billion.

"Whatever. I'm leaving. Don't call me." She yawned as she pushed open the apartment door and walked out.

He sighed slowly, knowing that this was what had been bound to happen. This always happened. He closed his eyes slowly and turned over on his side. A room temperature, stale beer sat on his nightstand, and he grabbed it, ignoring the headache that pulsed with every movement. He brought it to his lips for the millionth time and chugged down what he could.

He hated Sunday mornings.

XXX

Her fingers trailed lightly over her slightly distended belly. Pregnancy was one of the worst things she'd ever have to deal with. Constantly getting sick. Constantly crashing and falling asleep. Peeing that never ended. And then there was the fact that there was no prize at the end. She'd already decided that she wasn't keeping the baby. How could she? She didn't have a job. She didn't have money. She was going to be dead broke when she got out. Probably going to end up on the streets... She couldn't have a baby on top of that.

The worst part was trying not to get attached.

All of it was hard. The ultrasounds she occasionally had done were hard, knowing that she actually had to look at her baby. The baby she was trying so desperately to forget. She wanted to forget that he existed. She wanted to forget about his little fingers and toes and eyes and nose. She wanted to forget about his feet as they kicked inside of her, just strange, small reminders that he was there and he was alive...

The kicking was the hardest. It was a constant reminder that the baby was alive and he was kicking and he wanted to be noticed. He wanted to be made known. It was ever present. It never went away, never left her alone. He never left her alone, and it was awful. It just made her feel that much guiltier...

And then there was the fact that she still loved his father.

She tried to convince herself that she hated Neal. She tried to convince herself not to cry over him. She tried to convince herself that he deserved none of the love that she was still giving him. She tried to convince herself that she was better than him. She tried to convince herself to just move on and forget him. He didn't deserve love. He deserved all the hatred that she had to offer. He had betrayed her. He had left her alone with this baby...

But she couldn't do it.

She always saw his smile in her mind's eye. She could still see him laughing as they ran, occasionally taking her hand, sometimes just scooping her up and running with her as she laughed and held on as tight as she could. She could see him smiling as she pushed him back onto the bed, always ruining the mood with that goofy smile of his. The crooked was that his lips upturned. The way that his eyes crinkled at the corners. It all seemed so distant now. But when it was dark, and quiet for the first time in the dead of night, and her baby stopped kicking for just a few seconds... It was all that she could see. And it tore her apart.

She knew that he was probably sweeping some poor girl off her feet. He was probably using the same lines. Same speeches. Kissing her with the same lips and sweeping her off her feet. He was probably telling her everything that she wanted to hear. And someday, that poor girl would be betrayed, just like she'd been. And he'd take her and he'd hurt her and he'd leave her for dead in a dump like this one with a baby half like hers. But still, in those darkest hours, all she wanted was him to tell her that it'd all be okay...

"Rise and shine, ladies. Time to get to work." The guard shouted, telling them it was time to wake up.

She hated Sunday mornings.