The School Play

Chapter 28

"And what did you feel when you saw him here, in Storybrooke?"

Emma looked at the man. He was quite old, but had a kind face. He was wearing glasses and had short, almost ginger, hair. There was an umbrella leaning against his chair and throughout the entire conversation Emma had wondered why.

Archie Hopper was nice and very patient, which made it easier to talk to him. He probably didn't think she talked very well, but for Emma's terms, she was like an open book. She'd already told him about the experiences with her dad eight years ago, and she'd managed to do so without crying. She didn't even have to fight back the tears.

Emma didn't very well know how to answer this question, though. She didn't know what she'd felt. She'd felt everything and nothing at the same time.

"Do you think he'd hurt you again?" Archie asked, when Emma had been quiet for a long time, probably hoping this question was easier to answer.

Emma's fingers gripped the armrest tighter and she tried to control her breathing. "He often used to say that he always finished what he'd started," she said, softly. "It used to be a motivation for him, but now that sentence scares me more than anything."

Archie nodded slowly and scribbled something down on his notepad. He continued asking her questions, and she skipped a few, but tried to answer most. She really wished she could've gone through this session without crying, but in the end, she broke down.

Of all the memories she had, good ones and bad ones, this one she remembered most vividly of all, and that made it so much more painful.

One of the questions she hadn't responded to, was the one that bugged her the most. "Do you think the man has changed in jail?" Fortunately, as soon as Archie had realized that "father" wasn't the right term to refer to the man, he hadn't said it anymore. Emma appreciated that, but she still didn't know the answer to his question.

Well, her first impulse was to say no, because frankly, she didn't believe people could change that drastically. Not even over time. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that Hercules hadn't changed a single bit.

Even after he had been sued by Mary Margaret, he didn't admit he'd been in the wrong. He hadn't shown a single sign of regret or guilt. The only thing he'd done, was make sure he'd gotten the best lawyers that would ensure his lack of time in prison. And he'd gotten that.

She grabbed her phone as she exited the psychiatrist's office, to text her mother that she was heading home. She zipped her zipper of her coat higher up when she met with the cold air and had her eyes glued to her phone, until she suddenly heard a sound.

Emma looked up and immediately stepped back. She was hallucinating. She was certain this was some kind of dream, some stupid joke, because it could not be that the man was standing right in front of her right now. His muscled arms were inked with various tattoos and Emma felt a lump in her throat.

"Were you in here because of me?"

Emma looked down at her phone, and pressed the emergency contact. However this was going to go, she didn't want to do it alone. It was dark on the streets already, and there was no one outside but them.

"You don't need to be frightened, I'm not going to hurt you."

Emma couldn't move. She wanted to run. All the alarm bells in her head went off and told her to go away from this man that visited her in her most horrifying dreams.

"Sheriff department, Storybrooke, what can I help you with?"

"Put the phone away," Hercules said. His tone was low and threatening and all Emma could do was press the red button. She finally found the strength to move backwards, but she didn't manage to take more than one step. "I'm your father. You wouldn't want to call the cops on me, now would you?"