He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged grimly. "No." She eyed him curiously, and though he was usually so confident to the point of arrogant, he faltered under her steely gaze. "I think Emma's alive."
"August—" Her head tilted to the side in a resigned sigh as she moved up the foyer steps and turned toward the kitchen, but her heart hammered in her ears. Let go, Archie's voice said. But Emma's voice was louder and clearer and yelling out her name.
"Hear me out." He followed her hastily. "I've been talking to people and they haven't found her body yet."
"Yet." She repeated mockingly, sliding the postcards onto the island in between them as she pressed her back against the sink. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Yes." His gaze was set, his jaw hardened with determination as he pressed his hands against the island counter to lean forward. "If she was lying in a hospital somewhere, or if she was found in a ditch, someone could identify her."
Images of Emma braving a hail of bullets like the superhero Henry believed her to be came to the forefront of her mind, and for the briefest of moments, Regina dared to hope. "She's alive?" She squeaked.
"I think so."
"I need more than your thoughts, August," the brunette demanded. "When—if they find her, you'll be the first to know?"
His face fell as his eyes averted to the marble top. "I hope so."
"You hope so."
"I'm not exactly her flesh and blood. I had to pull in a lot of favours to get her in Boston for that week." August moved around the island determinedly to close Regina in against the corner of the counter. "That's not the point. She's still out there, Regina. You have to believe."
I do. I want to. What could she say? She could hop on a plane and search through hell and high water for herself, but she had a sneaking suspicion August had already done that. And returned with theories and blind faith. Nothing more than what he left with.
"I can't." She whispered quietly and held her hand up to stop him. She rubbed small circles on her forehead to ease the pain between her eyes from the conflicting thoughts barreling through her mind. "I've spent the last year waiting for her to come back to the point where I felt paralyzed, and it's only recently that I've been able to bring some semblance of normalcy back into my life."
"So you're just gonna give up?" He demanded outraged.
"I have to move on." The mantra she told herself every morning fell flat despite how determined she was to meet his bark.
Before August could even think of a rebuttal, a small voice filtered from the entranceway making both adults turn toward the source.
"Uncle August?" Henry sleepily wiped his eye with a closed fist as he stood in the kitchen opening. His hair was tousled and stuck up in strands to the side of his face, Rex held tightly in his other hand as the dinosaur's tail dragged on the ground.
August brightened and kneeled to the ground, his arms open. "Hey, buddy."
Henry ran into his embrace and hugged him tightly around the neck.
"You're so big now." August pulled back and squeezed Henry's arms. "Geez, have you been pumping iron?"
Henry giggled and flexed his muscles just like his uncle had showed him, but then his face dropped and he leaned in to whisper not so subtly. "Emma's an angel now."
August frowned as he stared at the little boy. He glanced up at Regina who refused to meet his eye before turning back toward Henry and pulling him into a hug again. "She always was." He lifted Henry off the ground and plopped him onto the island. "Didn't you know? I lucked out with the cyborg, but she got the wings."
"No," he insisted. "She said she's Sue Storm."
August furrowed his brow in confusion and looked to Regina for back up, though her gaze was still fixated on the counter.
"She can go invisible." Suddenly Henry's eyes brightened as he looked to his mother. "Mommy, Emma's just invisible! She's right here, right?!"
Regina turned her attention back to the pair to smile sadly. A mewl sounded from below their feet giving Regina the out she needed, and suddenly Figaro jumped from the floor to the island, purring and rubbing himself around Henry.
"Fig'ro!" Henry exclaimed, squeezing the cat in a tight hug he only welcomed for a second before darting away.
Regina sighed and stepped toward the island, combing down Henry's unruly hair with her fingers. "Why don't you take Uncle August to the guest room. He'll be staying with us for a while."
Regina wasn't surprised when 'for a while' turned into temporary co-habitation. The presence of Uncle August seemed to brighten Henry's mood since he now had a playmate whenever he got home from school, and for Regina, she was in desperate relief for his distraction. True to form, August had gotten Henry an absurd gift for his birthday: a skateboard. When Regina glared at him, he rolled his eyes and produced the helmet, knee and elbow pads, and wrist guards. Her insistence to save the gift for when Henry became older fell on deaf ears and didn't stop him from taking out his nephew that morning, helping Henry to push himself along the board. August received a thorough reprimand and a few smacks on the arm when Henry kicked off on his own, fell, and split his lip.
It amazed Regina how well August had integrated into Storybrooke life, similar to how easily Emma did as well. There must have been something in the water at their shared foster home to make them so adaptable, but then again the two were quite nomadic and blending in seemed to be their forte.
Much to everyone's surprise, August was more than adept at playing nanny since picking up Henry from school had become his full-time job. He entertained the boy, sometimes bringing him to the diner where Henry would snicker that he and Ruby were boyfriend and girlfriend before meeting Regina at home for dinner. It was routine and familiar, and Regina was grateful for the constant in her life. She could count on August being at the mansion whenever she returned from work, and when he woke up early to use the gym, she knew he'd be returning.
His presence harangued her with loads of questions, mainly from Kat and Tina whenever they managed to get a hold of her. She may have been more at ease, but the thought of another ladies' night with them as they bombarded her with questions of how she was doing? how was Henry? and now, what's August doing there? was just too stressful. For once she didn't have a suitable answer other than "he needed a place to stay."
In exchange, she'd find her fridge stocked with groceries, and some nights August would be in the kitchen, an Italian aria playing from his dock with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder as he stood over the stove. Henry would be sitting at the island, reading his level nineteen book from school (he was quite smug of the fact that he had the highest reading level in his class). The scents in the kitchen ranged from Italian spices, Indian curry, to German schnitzel. Regina had been right in thinking that his wanderings had left him quite a formidable cook, and she was content to hand over the reins to him in the kitchen whenever the need struck him.
It was nice, not having to teach him how to cook or worry that he was going to set the house on fire. Not like Emma. But it was fun teaching her, green eyes lighting up in a job well done or shutting softly when flavours melted in her mouth. Or Emma would just stay in the kitchen and watch Regina flit from stove to fridge to counter, though more times she was off playing with Henry. And by playing, that usually meant they would find a way to get themselves messy, like painting faces on themselves with flour, Regina willing as Emma stood nearly nose to nose with her as she drew on some star around her eye. Swirling green eyes widening in wonder, small puffy breaths in the air around them electrified.