The Perfect Emma

Chapter Twenty-Six

Grayson Todd

"I will do it... but only if you sleep in your bed."

Gray blinked at her, processing for a second, then chuckled. Well, he'd gotten her to bargain with him, that was progress, right? She was seriously persistent about that. Then again, he was being persistent about her slapping him in the face, so, he supposed it was a fair trade. "Alright," he relented. "Fine. You've gotta make it hurt though, or else it doesn't count."

Emma gave him a slight withering look. "....You're...serious about this?" she asked, still looking skeptical, and a tad anxious.

Grayson nodded firmly. "Dead serious."

She exhaled and took a breath. Then she clenched her eyes shut, turned her face away, and...!

Pat him awkwardly.

He blinked, furrowed his brows slightly in confusion, itching his cheek vaguely. "Wow. That almost tickled." Hm. This might take a bit more work than he'd thought.

Emma frowned at him, clearly perturbed by his reaction. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, looking almost like she expected him to smack her.

"Well...." he started to reply. "Dunno what exactly you're sorry for, but I'm sorry because I simply can't give you the couch with a tap like that." Gray shook his head. Of course, his tone was playful, but he still couldn't exactly tell when Emma realized that or took him seriously.

Her expression grew sad.

Grayson had never a met a woman in his entire life that was sad about sending a man to the couch.

"Okay," he murmured, getting back up and returning to his seat. "We'll...try that again later." Then he sighed. "And....You can have the couch, I guess." Gray wasn't happy about it, but he supposed it was better to give her what she wanted, even if it was ridiculous.

Emma's face immediately changed, relief and happiness replacing the sorrow. "Thank you."

"Uh-huh," he replied, chuckling with a shake of his head. This....This would be a journey. Gray was no therapist. In fact, he'd been told on multiple occasions by multiple people that he needed one himself. He had no idea how he was going to re-adjust Emma to normal life again. But he supposed giving her the couch was a start. Aside from that, the most important thing to take care of was her fear being hit. Gray couldn't help her if she was convinced her mistakes would get her hurt.

But those were thoughts for tomorrow. Today had been a long day. And Gray was very ready for it to be over. When the pair of them were finished with their ramen, Emma swept up the dishes so quickly, Gray was sure he would've missed it if he'd blinked. Instead of telling her she didn't have to do that, he just let her; Rome wasn't built in a day.

However now that it was about time for bed, he realized that she would be sleeping in the clothes on her back. Technically Gray did have women's clothing in his apartment, but....Well, he hadn't exactly looked at them for a long time. And he wasn't sure how he would feel about seeing Emma in them, considering she...did look like the previous owner at the moment. And yet, it wasn't like anyone would miss them. Emma needed them more than Rose did. With a quiet sigh to himself, Gray went into his closet and pulled out a box, frowning a little. He brought the box out to Emma, who was sitting on the couch now, and set it down on a side table beside her. "There's, uh....There's clothes in there," he told her softly, avoiding her gaze and scratching at his stubble absently. "Take whatever you need."

Without much more, he started back for the bedroom, pausing in the doorway as Emma thanked him. Gray cleared his throat, then replied, "Yeah. No problem." After another brief pause, he added, "Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight."

Gray then went into his room properly and shut the door behind himself with a sigh. Dredging up those memories, forcing himself to acknowledge Rosalind's belongings again, had put him in a somber mood; something he'd been hoping to avoid, but knew was pointless to expect not to happen. Suddenly he was more tired than he'd been ten minutes ago. Gray likely would've just gone to bed in what he was wearing, but he was painfully aware of the fact that he had to act as much a normal human being as he was trying to get Emma to. He had to set the example.

Not changing clothes was a poor way to start that.

So for once in his life he went to sleep in pajamas, and it was something he hadn't been used to. But he figured, if he was going to make Emma do things she wasn't used to anymore, he could do it too.

—

It must've been halfway through the night and a few hours of not very restful sleep later that Gray was awakened by a thud out in the living room. It took him a moment to get rid of the threads of sleep, but once he was alert he was reaching into the drawer of his nightstand for his firearm. Better safe than sorry.

Getting out of bed and opening his door, he was prepared for a fight; but nobody else was here.

Another noise drew his attention to Emma, who hissed in pain after, what looked like, bumping her head on the bottom of the coffee table she'd just rolled under. When she managed to get herself out from under it, she sat up and blinked at Gray, tears already in her eyes, as her gaze flickered between his face and his gun.

Oopse.

Seeing as all the commotion had come from her falling off the couch, he realized that the weapon was not necessary. Immediately, Gray lifted his hands and showed her his palms, pointing the gun away from her. Slowly, he set it down on the floor and crossed the room to tend to Emma. She was holding her head with one hand and her knees with the other, and her eyes were full of tears. Shit.

Grayson carefully sat himself down on the floor in front of her, making sure to keep his hands visible at all times so as not to frighten her further. It was obvious that she was scared, and he didn't need to be a detective to figure out that she must've had an awful nightmare. Running out with a gun certainly hadn't helped.

Emma stared at him fearfully, her chest heaving. "I'm sorry!" she cried, "I won't slap you again!"

Gray blinked, before shaking his head with a sigh. "Emma," he murmured, scooting closer and reaching for her. "Relax." She flinched as Gray pulled her into his arms, but didn't fight him. He rubbed her back, clearing his throat a little to get rid of the sleep from his voice. "You're okay," he told her soothingly. "Everything's okay. Nobody's going to hurt you."

She started blubbering under her breath incoherently about, assumedly, her nightmare, but Grayson merely shushed her. "You're safe here, Emma. He can't get you here."

As Emma simply continued to sob and panic onto his shoulder, Gray simply continued to comfort her, to the best of his ability at least. With a soft breath, he resigned himself to the fact that there was a long road ahead.