his silence is loud. there is turmoil in his mind, going through millions of thoughts at a time just trying to grasp at one that would make sense. sadly, the general line they followed was that there was a larger game at play here, and somehow he’d been caught as a pawn. from weaver’s hands to victoria belfrey’s, rogers had felt what it was like to be a dispensable piece on the chessboard too many times to be anything but revolted at the possibility of experiencing it again. and from her, of all people. someone he hadn’t know, but dreamt about. someone who’d changed his life forever without even knowing –––– she was untouchable, high on a pedestal. perhaps he shouldn’t have put her there at all. it had set this encounter up for failure before it had even happened.
‘ what? ’ the colors of indignation start to appear on his features, hearing the most appalling of explanations come out of her lips. yes, there was anger to his demeanor, but it was more at himself for having been such a fool than anything. what had he expected? mostly, though, you could see the disappointment in the detective. ‘ you mean to tell me that you are some crazy stalker of his? ’ for a book that wasn’t even that good! no, this couldn’t be it. his savior couldn’t be that way. this could not be the woman from the alley. rogers looks even more intently at her, trying to find the lie in her features that her words would not betray. ‘ why were you there that night? when i got shot? ’ she couldn’t have been looking for henry, surely. he didn’t frequent nor live in the neighborhood back then. ultimately, rogers is just trying to look for something he can salvage. anything he could hold on to. the woman who had given such hope could not be a farce.
she can see the disappointment in his face as the realization dawns on him that she’s not the savior he was expecting, and god, the sight of it feels like a slap in the face. emma has to struggle to maintain her look of embarrassment, and not allow the hopeless feeling resonating within her to make it to the surface. she wants s o b a d l y to be able to tell her family that they’re ------well, her family, but she can’t risk putting them in even more danger than they already are, and it’s been made pretty clear to her that any truth out of her mouth would spell disaster for them. so if that means adopting the role of stalker, she’ll do her best to play it, and play it right.
‘ stalker is such a harsh term, don’t you think ? ’ she asks in a muted version of that same pleading voice, lips slanting in a half-frown as if she’s somewhat offended by the notion. ‘ i prefer biggest fan, it has a better ring to it, and it’s the truth ! ’ the whole thing makes her cringe internally ----the voice, the words, her demeanor. then again, no one would argue against her being the biggest fan of her own son ---- except maybe regina ---- so in this case she’s not even lying! but here comes the lie. she hadn’t been anywhere near henry the night killian got shot, she’d been watching him. ‘ oh, i was just walking around ----heard there was a neat little coffee shop in the neighborhood. ’ she shrugs, smiling at him now. ‘ never did find it though. how are you feeling, by the way ? ’