Staying Found
by misscam
Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.
Author's Note: Set after 2x09 but doesn't really deal with events after. Much thanks to Angie for suggestions and looking it over. Also dedicated to all the lovely people of the Snowing thread on FanForum. Much love, my dears!
II
"I will always find you," they say, their relationship in a sentence. Reunions and separations, lost and found, Prince Charming and Snow White overcoming obstacles only to face new ones, yet new chapters to a fairytale that hasn't got a happily ever after yet. (But it has to. Surely it has to?)
"I will always find you," they say. And they do. They keep doing, over and over, the implied 'but will we always lose each other too?' sometimes being voiced out loud and sometimes just lurking there in their pauses between words.
"I will always find you," they say. The future simple tense, as if the future is ever simple. But still they will it to be, making the phrase a prediction and a promise both. They will find each other.
They did find each other. Now they just have to get used to having been found again, together again, a relationship again, all the little things again.
II
There is a presence in her bed again, and it's keeping her awake.
As Mary Margaret she often woke to thinking there should be one, that she was missing something, that the warmth of her body still left her bed too cold. It was the ghost of a memory, something her body remembered but her mind did not.
Snow White knows there was always meant to be that someone sleeping next to her. David, her Charming, her husband, the warmth of him like another blanket that she could wrap herself in. That was how her bed should be.
And now he is here, as he should be, sleeping lightly on his side beside her and facing her, and she is still finding his presence slightly disconcerting. It is perhaps not that strange to feel that way, because Mary Margaret has 28 years of memories without him there and Snow only has a year with him in another bed in another world, but it is still a strange thought to have to get used to her husband again.
Her husband. They've spent more time finding each other than actually being found and it makes her feel a little lost.
"What's wrong?" Charming says softly into the night and she lifts her gaze to his face to see him look at her through lowered eyelids. Not sleeping after all, then, and knowing her all too well.
"We barely had five minutes together before we got separated again last time," she says slowly, remembering the day the curse was broken.
"I know," he says, the regret in his voice palatable as he lifts a hand to her shoulder, moving his fingers lightly across her skin. That too, is familiar, something he would often do when she couldn't sleep for thinking of Regina's threat.
"I'm tired of losing you," she informs him, thinking of her daughter as well. She is tired of losing her family. She is tired of fighting. She just wants to keep what she has now, never having to lose and then find ever again.
"You know I will always..." he begins, cut off as she pulls him a little roughly to her and kisses him. She doesn't want to hear it right now. It may be a promise, but it's also a curse. She just wants to get used to his presence in her bed again, to sleep in the shared warmth of their bodies as if it is another blanket again, to have him found long enough to get used to having him.
He is gentle in response to the fierceness of her kiss, fingers still light on her skin and lips soft and yielding. That won't do. That won't do at all, and she bites down on his lower lip a little and pushes herself closer, pressing her body to his.
She can feel him mouth her name as she deepens the kiss, turning it into a soft moan instead. His fingers have moved down to her side, finding the area just below her slip and just above her pajamas bottom where skin is exposed. It is strange, so strange for a moment because the clothes and the bed are unfamiliar for Snow and familiar as Mary Margaret, the touches are aching familiar to Snow and heartbreakingly unfamiliar to Mary Margaret.
Time to reacquaint herself, then.
II
Sex isn't everything to a romantic relationship, of course, and she loved him way before she slept with him. But sex, sex also matters, she thinks as their sleepwear has been hurriedly discarded and he seems determined to kiss every inch of her skin and she is digging her fingers into his shoulder hard enough to leave marks.
As he lifts his head to look at her, she recognizes the look of passion on his face that is so familiar she inhales a sharp breath. Oh, he wants her. For all he's had her, he always still wants her. Then she catches his lower lip between her lips, kissing him. His tongue brushes across hers as he almost licks into her, his fingers dipping down to make her moan into the kiss.
They made love frequently as just Snow and Charming, that's undeniable. With how much they've fought to be together, how often they'd been separated, how much he loved her and she loved him, perhaps that was a rather foregone conclusion.
Still, she knows the servants sometimes gossiped a little, that Red would give knowing looks when they retired 'to rest', that Grumpy learned fairly fast not to barge in on them without knocking, that people watched their hands link in public
and perhaps knew that the love that caused little sweet gestures would also fuel a great deal of passion and not lend itself very well to chaste.
(After all, no one was surprised at all when the announcement of a pregnancy came so soon after the wedding.)
Of course, now they are also parents and grandparents and she doesn't know what to Storybrooke except it does seem to involve a lot of crisis solving, but she is going to make sure that she damn well gets to sleep with her husband on a frequent basis too.
She still wants him, after all. For all she's had him, she still wants him, will always want him and now she's going to have him.
(Twice, as it turns out.)
II
She wakes all too early in tangled in blankets and her husband, the sounds of his breathing almost as loud as her own. For a while she simply lies still like that, letting her senses simply take it all in.
Maybe one morning soon she'll wake up and this will all be familiar and expected and second nature, just another little thing – or perhaps knowing what it was like to live without it again, she will always treasure it just that little more, never making it normal or a little thing again.
"Good morning," he murmurs, not opening his eyes and seeking her lips a little blindly, kissing her eyelids, nose and cheek before finding his intended target. He sighs into the kiss, something Charming never did and she doesn't know if David Nolan would, but it sounds almost like relief.
"Good morning," she whispers back, drawing her teeth lightly across his bottom lip before weaving her fingers into his short hair as he takes her cue and deepens the kiss.
He exhales as he draws back a little, resting his forehead against hers. "I suppose Emma and Henry will be awake soon."
"Mmm," she agrees, drawing her thumb across his scar and to his lips. He presses a kiss against it softly, watching her through lowered eyelids.
Charming was always a morning person in more than one way, she remembers and feels her lips curve into a smile.
"I suppose," he whispers, his breath brushing against her thumb, "we could be very, very quiet."
Snow never was, she thinks, whereas Mary Margaret was a little too quiet in that as in everything.
It remains to be seen if they can find a balance between them.
II
They're holding hands again.
They did that in the Enchanted Forest too, to be supportive, to just know the other was there, to feel linked by skin as they were by heart. It became natural, a part of them, one little thing among so many others that added up to their relationship.
David Nolan and Mary Margaret couldn't hold hands most of the time, having to settle for just locking eyes instead, trying to hold each other by gaze and slipping.
But now they are walking down the street hand in hand and Snow can't even remember if he held out a hand to her or if she did to him, both actions all too common to notice. His hand in hers is a weight she knows, the feel of his palm against hers familiar. Skin brushes against skin as he weaves his fingers in hers, squeezing a little, and she looks down and smiles.
It's such a little thing, holding the hand of your beloved. It's such a little thing and yet such a great thing, and she never wants to let go.
II
Her husband is also a dad, Snow thinks as she watches him and Emma discuss sheriff duties.
It is such a strange thing to realise, because to Snow he only got to hold his daughter once and nearly died from it. She's gotten used to thinking of herself as a mother after the time with Emma in the Enchanted Forest, but Charming as a father?
He finds it strange himself, she can see in his slight hesitation with Emma, but also wants it so much judging by the open curious gazes he gives his daughter. His daughter. His daughter too and her heart aches for it as much as it ached for her own loss.
He is also a grandfather, but he seems more used to that, the bond with Henry apparent to all. One day, she just knows, Charming would be a wonderful father to a son. (He's going to be a father to his daughter too, she is even more certain. Him and Emma, they just need time, alike in so many ways it makes her breath catch sometimes.)
It is a strange thought to know that they're parents, grandparents, not just a married couple anymore. Just as they learned to be rulers in addition to being married, just as they learned being married in addition to being in love. They've always had to share each other with other things, other roles, and have always found enough left that is just theirs.
They've adapted before. They will again, and Emma smiles at her dad from across the table and he smiles right back at her.
II
It is a strange thing to simply kiss for the joy of it again.
There has been so many reunion kisses, kisses because they can't help themselves, kisses to break curses, interrupted kisses, kisses near death and kisses before, during and after danger.
Now she can also kiss her husband to just enjoy it. A simple peck to wish him a good day in the morning, making out with him on the sheriff's desk while Emma is out for lunch, a lingering touch of lips on lips before dinner, kissing him until her lips feel swollen and heavy while he lifts her up and never lets her go, kissing, kissing, kissing just because they can, just because they want to, just because.
II
They always had arguments from time to time, Snow and Charming. She does remember them, and the making up for them, and the compromises they would sometimes reach between them.
David Nolan wasn't much for arguing. He still left her brokenhearted in a way Charming never had. She will take the arguments over that.
They can still be painful.
"I want to stay here," she says, feeling his gaze on her, trying to will her to understand where he is coming from.
"But it's our home," he says again and she closes her eyes. It was, that's what he can't understand. Too much faith, too much optimism in him, and normally she loves that in him so much.
This is the first time she's been frustrated with it too.
"It's not Emma's," she insists, opening her eyes again and trying to will him to understand. "She has no memories of it, Charming. What she saw when we were there was just a ruined land."
"We could rebuild it. She's our daughter, it's her land too."
"And if she doesn't want to?"
That halts him, as she knew it would, and he lowers his head a little. Still, it isn't the end of this argument, she knows, putting her hand on his in the silence.
What you love in someone can also be what makes you argue with them, she is learning.
II
Not everything needs words to be spoken in a relationship.
They got so used to the little things in each other, the expression on the other's face, the look in their eyes and the little gestures that they could communicate without words.
They still can.
As Charming lowers her to the bed, following her down without taking the gaze off her face, she knows what he's saying. She also knows she's saying it right back as she lifts her head and kisses him.
'I will always love you,' she thinks, and he tells her right back with the caresses across her skin.
II
Going from all the space in the world in a castle with her husband to a tiny little cramped loft with her husband, her daughter and her grandson takes a bit of getting used to, she has to admit to herself.
Charming doesn't seem to mind, too happy to have them all there, and Emma seems to agree with her father, as if now that she has her family she is determined to wall them all in any way she can. Henry too, shares the boundless enthusiasm and adds some too.
So despite an overcrowded bathroom, Emma walking in on her parents making out half a dozen times too many, too much stuff everywhere and practically tripping over each other, her family seem happy with the lack of space.
So Snow says nothing more about moving for now, instead sometimes suggesting they all go out and tries to remind herself that since Mary Margaret was lonely and had space in abundance, she'll get used to this crowding and just needs time. Snow always had a lot of space too, but that was in a land that is long since lost.
(Sometimes she still dreams of the wide spaces of the forest and adventures there, and wakes to her tiny loft and the frame of her husband and tries to remember to breathe.)
II
This isn't the dancing she's used to.
It's an evening at Granny's, Emma there with Henry, Whale there to have a drink but really give Red a lot of gazes, Belle, Archie and Granny there as well. Somehow, Henry ends up asking Belle to dance and then Charming holds out a hand wordlessly to her and she simply takes it.
They've dance before, of course. At many a ball in the Enchanted Forest dressed in their finest, smiling politely at others and smiling knowingly at each other. But that was dancing with learned steps, with dances, and this is not.
This is moving in slow circles with their bodies pressed against each other, finding the steps in the rhythm of their heartbeats. She lifts her head a little to look at him, the look on his face as he regards her making her breath catch a little.
"Is that how you danced in the Enchanted Forest, Gramps?" Henry asks eagerly, and Charming smiles at the boy's eagerness while Snow just feels a moment of dread because of it.
"No," Charming says, "but perhaps one day you will see for yourself."
"I'll teach you," Belle promises and Henry beams, making Snow wonder if perhaps it is time David had a little talk to his grandson about girls, birds and bees, nets and rocks.
Across the room Emma watches them with a clear gaze and Snow thinks maybe, just maybe she can see a hint of affection in their daughter's eyes.
II
It's the way he says her names that makes her not care which one he uses.
"Snow," he says, sometimes softly, sometimes passionately, sometimes as if he just likes the sound of it on his tongue. It is as surely a caress as his fingers across her skin, and says 'I love you' as much as the words do.
"Mary Margaret," he says other times, in public and even sometimes in private, but it is still differently from when he was simply David Nolan. It is more knowing now, more assertive, sounding less like an apology and more like a statement.
Two names, two lives, both of them eventually drawing her to him. And so she doesn't mind what name he uses because of the way he says them.
"Mary Margaret," he repeats again, holding out her coat for her to slip on. "Are you coming?"
"Yes," she agrees, letting him help her put her coat on and feeling how his hands come to rest on her shoulders a little longer than necessary. "Lets go home."
II
They didn't have to in the Enchanted Forest, but here they wash the dishes together and they cook together, even if Charming tends to burn the potatoes and claim it only enhances the flavour. All the things Mary Margaret had to do alone for so long and with Emma for a while now also includes Charming and sometimes Henry and somehow they work out a routine without discussing it.
And when Emma teases Charming about the potatoes and he teases her right back about the burned toast from breakfast and Henry chimes in about the toaster, Snow thinks that they're building a little family, day by day, little by little, moment by moment. It adds up.
As it did for Charming and her when they carved out their relationship the first time and are recarving now. All the little things adding up to one great – love. True love, in fact.
And to have that, she'll endure burned potatoes with only the mildest of mocking of her husband.
II
"I'm getting used to it," she whispers to Charming as she rests her head on his chest, feeling her heartbeats slow and sleep start to beckon.
"What?"
"Us," she says, as he lowers his hand to the lower end of her back and makes slow patterns across her skin with his fingers. "This."
He considers that, she can tell from the way he exhales a few times. She can even imagine the expression on his face.
"A lot of things have changed," he finally says. "But not everything."
"Not everything," she agrees softly, watching his mother's ring on her finger. Definitely not everything.
"I love you," he says simply, lowering his head to kiss her lightly as his fingers keep caressing her. His lips curve into a smile against hers, and she thinks, this, this is never going to change.
"I love you," she says, his nose bumping against hers as he presses her a little closer. "Charming?"
"Mmmm?"
"I never want to have to hear you say 'I will always find you' ever again."
"Not even when Henry asks us to play hide and seek again?"
"Not even then," she says sternly as he chuckles. "Besides, the last time you found me there I think you proceed to kiss me until our grandson declared it gross."
"Good times," he says fondly, making her smile. "Snow?"
"I will always," he starts, holding a thumb to her lips when she starts to protest, "love you."
Yes, she thinks. That he can keep saying.
II
"I will always find you," they said. Snow White and Prince Charming, and they always did. Always found each other no matter what.
"I will always find you," they said. A promise and a curse. But all curses can be broken, and maybe, just maybe, this is the time it will be. (After all, they do have true love on their side.) No more simple future tense, just past tense. They always found each other.
And then stayed found.
FIN