Chapter 21: Had a Son
For years, Emma Swan wondered how she'd broach the topic of her son, no their son, with Neal.
No, his name was Sirius or Baelfire.
And he was apparently Gold's long lost son.
None of this made any sense to her. And all she really wanted right now was a drink, but alas she doubted that Neal—no, Sirius or Bae—would let her have one. Because since she had mentioned Henry, that's all he wanted to talk about.
Well, after he sort of kicked Gold out.
And given the look on Gold's face, Emma was sure that confrontation was almost going to be as painful as this one with Neal.
The look on Neal's face, ugh.
Emma had told herself she didn't give a damn about the man. After all, he had snowed her all those years. Her eighteen-year-old self had been convinced that until he left her in that hotel. Alone and pregnant, with a ridiculous bill.
But even though Neal had caused years of heartbreak, even Emma had to acknowledge that he looked broken.
Even before she dropped the Henry bomb. He was way too skinny for one thing. Neal was a big man, over six feet tall, and could use to fill a room. Now his clothes practically hung off on him. His face looked so gaunt too, Emma thought. Had he been sick?
Neal still looked good though. If you ignored his obvious illness and clothes that barely hung on to him. He still had that ridiculously perfect looking nose and those eyes with those stupidly long lashes.
That's what made her notice him, those eyelashes.
Eyelashes like that were wasted on a man, Emma thought. And she still thought that. Though her attention really wasn't on Neal's lashes rather his reaction about Henry.
"We had a son?" He asked.
Thank God, Gold had left. She knew she was going to have to deal with him eventually, but luckily the evil sorcerer had enough people skills to know to give her and Neal a moment.
That and he had another son to deal with.
Whose life was currently in the balance of Peter Pan. Although, Emma was pretty sure by the look in the sorcerer's face, that she was going to have a not so nice one on one with him pretty soon.
She still couldn't believe that Gold was Neal's father which made him Henry's grandfather. Way too General Hospital for her.
Although, Storybrooke did seem to have soap opera qualities about it, even before she found out this revelation.
Case in point, her parents.
That was an entire storyline on General Hospital right there, she was pretty sure. Actually, it might be too bizarre for a soap opera.
She sighed looking at Neal. "I really don't know what to say."
Because she didn't. How else could she say, I'm sorry your son died and I never told you about him.
Though to be fair, Neal—or Sirius or Bae as everyone else was calling him didn't really try to force the issue that much. Instead, he just sort of stared at her gape mouthed.
Which honestly made the situation even worse if you could believe it.
She wanted her to say something, yell at her, anything, but instead he just stared and waited for Emma to explain.
"It's not like I could find you to tell you, not that you would've cared if you knew." She rambled.
"I would've cared." He stated as he sat down on one of the chairs in the penthouse's living area.
He picked up a tea glass that was sitting on the coffee table next to him, and Emma noted for the first time his hands were trembling.
God.
It was affecting him more than she thought it would. Then again, how did she really expect it to go down?
Well, she didn't know.
For so many years, she told herself that she knew Neal, but now she sort of wondered. Or maybe he was a good actor. She had to remind herself that her eighteen-year-old self thought she knew him too. But there was something about the way he looked right now, that she knew only from her own experience that Henry's death gutted him.
So, she decided to do probably what was the decent thing. Even if she didn't totally believe it, "I'm sure you would've, Neal."
"It's Sirius." He said, "Or I guess you could call me Bae if you want."
"I'm used to Neal." Emma said.
He sighed heavily. "I never wanted to leave, you know. Wouldn't have left if you were pregnant. I was planning on coming back."
"Sure." Emma said not believing him.
"Really," Neal said setting down the cup. He hadn't even taken one sip, Emma noted. "Look, Emma, a lot of stuff happened to me after I left, that you're not aware of. If I would've known, I would've been there for you and our son."
"His name was Henry." Emma said.
"Henry," Neal said. "That's a good name."
"I didn't name him." Emma said. Truth be known, she wouldn't have named Henry, Henry had she got the choice. It just seemed like too old of a name for him, plus it was Regina tainted.
"Well, who named him?" He asked.
Emma sighed. "His mother. Well, his adopted mother. Damn it, Neal, I didn't want to give him up."
It was the first time she had ever told that to anyone. She had told herself, reassured herself for all those years that she made the choice. But she often wondered how it would be if she kept Henry. Of course, knew she made the only choice she could've made at the time.
But she would've had liked to have the option. And she did wonder how things would've been had she been the one to raise Henry.
For one thing, she would've never moved to Storybrooke and he might've, well, he might still be alive today.
Of course, Emma knew very well you couldn't focus on what ifs. It would make you crazy.
But she couldn't help but think about it right now. When Neal was there and acting like the Neal that Emma thought he was.
Of course, that Neal hadn't exactly looked pathetic like this one. She had to remind herself that. This Neal didn't seem like he had the energy to leave a woman in a hotel with nothing.
He was in a bathrobe, for God's sake, at three o'clock in the afternoon. And the way Gold looked at him, she knew that something had to be wrong. Emma ran threw her head the possibilities. All of them were not good. Was Neal ill? He certainly looked like he was ill. He was a shadow of his former self, and that cocky look, that was no longer there.
The closest she saw of the old Neal when he was trying to set wards to protect Harry earlier.
"Emma," Sirius said. "Emma, I am so sorry."
A part of her wanted to tell him that words were useless now. They really were. He couldn't bring Henry back. No one could. Cora had sold his heart to Pan, the bitch. And as much as Emma wanted to rip out the witch's throat right now, she couldn't because she was trying to save Just Harry—who happened to be Gold's other son and Neal's brother—and Cora was key to stopping Pan.
Well, she knew stuff.
And Emma was a cop, and couldn't exactly kill her.
Sighing she finally talked to Neal, "You're not the one who should be sorry. Well, not about that."
"I wish I would've known him," Neal said. "How could I've been so stupid? I screwed up for him, for you, for Harry, for James."
He was rambling. And not like the way he used to ramble. There was something different about this sort of ramble. While used to Neal would chant about nonsensical things, it was always done in jest to annoy Emma. Here though, it was almost as if he had no control.
Emma was one hundred percent sure that something had happened to him.
"Neal, there's no need dwelling on the past. Believe me, I know."
He shook his head at her and said, "I had a son."
It was almost as if he wasn't even talking to her. Come to think of it, Emma doubted he was until he asked, "Can you at least tell me about him?"
Emma sighed and pulled out her phone and searched through her pictures, before she found a selfie that she and Henry had taken at Granny's the other week.
They were making one of those weird faces that was the current trend online. She couldn't even remember which one it was. Only that at the time she thought it was over the top and wanted to delete the photo, but now, well, the photo was one of the most precious things to her.
Emma sighed as she handed Sirius the photo. "I always thought he looked like you."
"He has your chin and your nose."
He stopped talking it was if something had broken in him. Emma had never seen Neal this way before.
Cocky: yes. But broken: never.
Maybe this was in part because of the image she had created of him in her head. The image that had helped her survive all those years of dealing with his betrayal.
But looking at that man now, Emma didn't know what to say.
She didn't even know what to do.
She could comfort him, she supposed. But what sort of comfort would she be. Emma was having enough problems trying to deal with it.
"Neal," she said putting her hand on one of his shoulders. She had forgotten how big he was. Neal was a tall man, but so frail now, Emma thought she could pretty much feel his bones.
The man turned around to look at Emma. "I am so sorry."
She shook her head. "You couldn't have done anything—I didn't know to it was too late."
No one knew.
Cora had covered her tracks and then some.
But Neal shook his head as he grabbed Emma's hand. Emma inwardly flinched as he touched her. She had forgotten how his touch had felt. And she didn't like it that it still gave her those feelings of butterflies. Neal was no longer supposed to have an effect on her.
She had a kid with him.
Kids were supposed to take the romance out of any relationship.
Not that she wanted to kiss Neal right then and there, kissing was far on Emma's mind these days. Her thoughts were on Henry.
Just the fact though that even in her grief something as much as holding Neal's hand could have such a strong effect on her bothered Emma.
Neal didn't seem to notice this though. Instead, he focused his attention on Emma and said. "I should've been there, for you and him. I screwed up, Em."
Yes he did. But even Emma knew, things probably wouldn't have gone the way Neal thought they would've otherwise.
Sighing she said. "Neal, it's not you. It's not your fault he's dead. You need to know that."
He shook his head.
She sighed heavily. "Look, Neal, please."
"I need to be alone, Emma." He said, "I need to be alone."