The role of the Saviour is one that Emma was born into. She had no say in the matter, no choice about her destiny; she was the hero who would give everyone their happy endings. Eventually, Emma embraced that role and filled it to the best of her abilities. But underneath all of the heroism and bravery, being the Saviour was an exhausting fate.

Emma would have nights where she would lay alone, sorrow filling her eyes. But she wasn't strong enough to bring herself to cry over it all. She was always the shoulder to cry on, but it was hard for her to find one she could rest the weight of the Saviour onto. As Sheriff, she was always up and about, fixing this, and saving that. It was hard to find time to just be.

You were beginning to notice the signs of this weariness in Emma. As her deputy, you worked closely with her. You'd always admired the way she did so much for others, but you worried about the effects of this relentless self-sacrifice – who was there to save the hero when she was crying out for help?

After a particularly long day of Sheriff work, Emma trudged back into the Sheriff's office, seeming absolutely spent. You were already there, with David, talking to him about an issue that one of the townsfolk had brought to your attention. By the time you glanced over to Emma, she was already readying herself to help deal with it. But you could see the fatigue in her eyes, the weight in her movements. You reached out to her, resting your hand on her's.

"Don't. It's fine. David has it covered."

You assured her, and Emma paused. You gave David a look, and he understood what you were wordlessly communicating to him. He got up, then walked out to go and deal with the issue while you got Emma to actually sit down for a bit.

"What's all this about?"

The Saviour asked, raising an eyebrow. Always skeptical, even when she was this exhausted.