The days blurred into weeks, and with each passing moment, Nathan felt the gap between himself and Emma widen even further. She was still there her laugh echoing in his memory, her warmth lingering in the bracelet she'd given him but it wasn't the same.
Neal had slipped into her world like he had always belonged there, and slowly, Nathan was being pushed out.
At first, Emma tried to balance it. She'd show up at the shelter with coffee, ruffle Nathan's hair, tell him about her day. She'd still tease him for being "too serious for a kid." But the visits grew shorter, way shorter. The excuses longer.
"Sorry, Nate. Neal wanted to check out this spot across town."
"Rain check, okay? I'll make it up to you."
"Tomorrow—I swear."
Every promise felt thinner than the last.
Nathan never complained. He just nodded, swallowed the ache in his chest, and told himself it was enough to know she still cared.
But deep down, he already felt the shift. Emma was drifting, and he couldn't hold her.
One cold afternoon, Nathan wandered through the park, hands buried in his hoodie, running his fingers along the pocket knife she gave him, trying to distract himself from the gnawing emptiness. That was when he saw them.
Emma and Neal.
They were sitting on a bench beneath the old oak, the sun slanting through the leaves, painting them in golden light. Emma's laughter rang out, full and unguarded, her walls gone. She leaned into Neal like he was her anchor, her smile brighter than Nathan had ever seen.
For a heartbeat, Nathan wanted to be happy for her. He wanted to believe this was good and that Emma deserved this, deserved someone to make her laugh like that.
But all he felt was hollow.
His chest tightened as he slipped his hands out and gripped the bracelet on his wrist, the silver charm biting into his skin. The gift that once felt like a promise now felt like a cruel reminder: Emma's world was changing, and he wasn't in it.
Emma's laughter softened when she spotted him. Across the park, their eyes met. For the briefest moment, time seemed to hold its breath.
Emma's expression flickered guilt, worry, something unspoken in the curve of her lips. She shifted, almost rising, as if she meant to call out.
But Nathan couldn't bear it. He turned away, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, walking fast enough to escape before she could say his name.
Behind him, Emma's lips parted. "Nath—"
Neal tugged her hand, pulling her attention back. She hesitated, torn, then let herself be pulled into his world, her voice fading before it could reach the boy slipping away.
Nathan didn't look back. He couldn't.
The last night came quietly. Emma showed up at the shelter, leaning in the doorway like she had countless times before. But there was something different in her. Lighter, Detached, in a way Nathan couldn't name.
"Hey, kid," she said softly, her smile gentle. "Mind if I hang out for a while?"
Nathan shrugged, Eyes dimmer scooting over on the bunk. "Sure."
They talked for hours. Emma's stories spilled out about Neal's wild schemes, Neal's cleverness, Neal's ridiculous charm. She glowed as she spoke, caught up in the rush of something new.
Nathan listened, every word cutting a little deeper. He wanted to tell her about his day, about the fights from the streets, about how empty the world felt without her or anything apart from Neal but the words stayed locked in his throat. He already knew. She wasn't his to lean on anymore.
When Emma finally stood to leave, she hesitated. Her hand brushed through his hair in that familiar, comforting way.
"You'll be okay, Nathan," she whispered, as if trying to convince them both, more herself. "You're tougher than you look."
He forced a small smile. "…And you'll be happy, right?"
Her eyes softened. For a long, quiet moment, she searched his face. Then she nodded. "Yeah. I think I will."
She pulled him into a quick hug, warm and fleeting, before stepping into the night.
Nathan clutched the bracelet to his chest, its weight unbearable. He knew what that moment had been. He could say something but what did it matter now. She would never believe him. A goodbye she didn't have the heart to say out loud.
That night, the System stirred.
[Warning: Big Sister Affection has stabilized at minimum threshold.]
[Emma Swan – Path diverging.]
[Directive: Prepare for separation and hurt.]
Nathan lay on his bunk, staring into the darkness, the bracelet pressing against his palm. Emma had chosen Neal.
And once again, he was left behind.