A/N - LAST NIGHT WAS INSANE! Haha, so here's the beginning of an AU fic... I have no doubt in my mind the entire OUAT fandom is reading/writing AU stories, haha! There's some stuff from last night's episode in this chapter, but there's also a lot my own stuff! I do NOT take credit for what the writers of OUAT have created! Remember, they have false memories; they think things happened, when they really didn't. Obviously I took some creative license... Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Oh, and as always, SwanQueen will happen at some point in this story ;-)

Emma stood with a protective arm around her young son, surrounded by people she didn't recognize- save for two-, uttering words she didn't remember. "I just found you."

A woman in a pink parka had a sad smile on her face, and although Emma didn't know who she was, something in her wanted to make it better."And now it's time for you to leave us again; for your best chance and his," she said with a nod to Henry.

Emma felt het lips move; she had no control over what she was saying."But... I'm... not done. I'm the Savior right? I'm supposed to bring back all the happy endings. That's what Henry always said." She glanced down at the boy in her arms- her boy. Henry seemed so stiff, so alarmed.

The woman in the parka spoke again, and Emma gave in to the impulse of making eye contact with her. "Happy endings aren't always what we think they will be. Look around you; you've touched the lives of everyone here."

The blonde heard her voice again,"But we're family."

"Yes, and we always will be. You gave us that." Emma didn't understand why the woman was being so nice to her, or why she thought they were family. The only family Emma had was Henry.

Suddenly, the man behind the sad woman spoke up. He, too, addressed Emma. "You and Henry can be a family, and you and can get your wish: you can be like everyone else. You can be happy."

"It's time for you to believe in yourself Emma. It's time for you to find hope," the oddly maternal woman smiled.

Another foreigner caught Emma's attention. This woman looked different; she was more composed, more regal. Her dark, brown hair blew in her face, and Emma sensed her enchanting eyes stare into her being. "I've known you for some time, and all I wanted was for you to get the hell out of my life so that I could be with my son. But really, what I want is for Henry to be happy. We have no choice. You have to go." How did this woman know Henry? What the hell was she talking about?

Without her own knowledge or consent, Emma's mouth said, "Ok."

When Emma woke up the next morning, the pounding in her head from the night before had vanished. All that was left was a fresh outlook on life; it was the way she always woke up. Even when she had these weird dreams, which she could never decipher, Emma was nothing but positive. Her alarm rang, but she was always conscious when she sent a lazy hand flying for the touchscreen. The morning sunlight greeted her like an old friend, and Emma soaked it all in. Living in New York had its ups and downs, but mornings like these were definitely ups for her.

Before stepping a foot out of her warm, cozy bed, Emma listened for her teenaged son. A few seconds of silence passed, Emma inhaled deeply, stretched her arms over her head with a wide yawn, and threw the heavy blankets off of her torso. It was time to make breakfast. Like all mothers do.

The cool winter's air nipped at Henry's nose as stood across from a dark-haired woman, one he'd never seen before in his life. Although he didn't know her, a swell of compassion churned in his chest. He heard other voices around him, but the only one he listened to was his own. "This isn't fair; it's all my fault."

The worried woman searched his eyes curiously, "What do you mean?"

"If I'd never gone to get Emma, if I'd just lived under the curse with you, none of this would've happened. I thought I was alone... I thought you didn't love me. But I was wrong."

"Henry, I was wrong too. It wasn't your fault. It was mine. I cast a curse out of vengeance, and I'm... I'm a villain. You heard Mr. Gold; villains don't get happy endings..." This woman sounded so despondent, so remorseful. Wait- did she say curse?

Henry reached out for the woman's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "You're not a villain; you're my mom."

Henry had overslept by 15 minutes. If anyone asked, he blamed his alarm clock; the darn thing always malfunctioned. Instead of going off at his scheduled eight o'clock sharp, the electronic device rang at 8:15, just like his mother's. The only difference was, Emma woke up at 8:15 on purpose. Sometimes, Henry wished he'd slept even later. He never got to finish his dreams; they always ended without a resolution.

The 14 year-old could hear the clanking of a metal whisk against a glass bowl from the kitchen, and he knew his early-rising mom was already busy. Henry savored moments like these; the smell of pancakes on the stove, birds singing outside of his window, the renewed sense of hope for a good day. People always told him he had an old soul, the way he always made his gratitude known. But Henry would just blush and look away; he never handled compliments well. Emma had raised him to be modest and selfless, not boastful and greedy. Although, if he did admit it, Henry always felt proud when his maturity was recognized.

After counting to 10 in his head, Henry braced himself for the bright rays of sun that would hit his face the moment he stood up. With a tired groan, the growing man kicked the covers sloppily over his bed. The morning had begun.

When everything had been finished, when the food was served and the table was set, Emma was ready to join her son for their habitual breakfast together. She had just taken her first sip of cocoa when there was a hard thumping on the wooden door.

"Someone coming up?" Henry asked absentmindedly.

Emma glanced in the direction of their door, unsure as to who would be paying them a morning visit. "No," she shook her head. The knocking started again, and harder. Henry was already cutting in his meal while Emma switched off the music and walked to the door, still confused as to who would be calling so early.

The moment Emma opened the barrier, a rugged-looking man in black leather smiled at her. "Swan," he grinned. As if he had no manners, the stranger let himself into her apartment.

Emma thrust a hand out, "Do I know you?"

The man's smile faded, "I need your help. Something's happened- something terrible. Your family is in trouble."

"My family's right here. Who are you?" Emma didn't take kindly to uninvited guests making themselves at home, especially when she'd never meet them before.

"An old friend," he breathed. There was something in his eyes, perhaps desperation, that caught Emma's attention. "I know you can't remember me... I can make you." Without warning, the leather-clad man pulled Emma in for a passionate kiss. It didn't last long until Emma kneed him in the groin and pushed him out of her home.

"The hell are you doing?!" she cried from the doorway.

"Long shot... I had to try. I was hoping you felt as I did," he choked out.

"All you're gonna feel is handcuffs when I call the cops!"

Emma started to close the door, but the man stopped her. "I know this seems crazy, but you have to listen to me- you have to-" The door was slammed in his face. And that was that.

Henry heard the harsh bang and glanced at his mother. "Who's that?"

Still breathless, Emma tried to play it down. "No idea. Someone must've left the door open downstairs." With one last look over her shoulder, she went back to her son. "Come on, let's eat."

Everyone knew her as the Evil Queen. That's how the townspeople saw her, and after time, that's how Regina Mills began to see herself. It wasn't her intention. She never wanted to become her mother. But in her eyes, she was left no other option. Everything she loved had been taken from her, and everyone she cared about was gone.

When the curse failed to appease her needs, The Queen had ripped out Rumplestiltskin's heart in anger. Everyone said killing the ancient wizard involved two things: ending his life with his own dagger, and in return, becoming the Dark One yourself. Regina never listened to folklore. Why give in to already-told stories, when you can write your own?

When the curse fizzled, The Queen gained a new streak of vengeance. No one was safe, and no one could stop her. With the magic of the Dark One in her veins, Regina was invincible.

For weeks, Regina had traveled the land for a new start. Now that she harnessed unimaginable power, she could do whatever she pleased.

"What have I told you about slowing the carriages?" Regina barked at her driver through the window. "You do not stop until I tell you so."

"Your Majesty, there is an obstruction in our path. We must stop in order to move it," the frightened soldier responded. "It will only be a moment."

Unsatisfied with his answer, Regina straightened her back and opened the door herself. "Very well, but you will not be clearing our trail. I'm sure our lovely Prince will gift us with removing it himself. Won't you... Charming?"

The sandy brown-haired man look up from his horse and dead into Regina's eyes. For a reason no one understood, including herself, Regina had taken pity on the Prince and Snow White. By no means had she forgotten what Snow took away from her, but every time she opened her mouth to hurl an insult the young woman's way, something stopped her. While she made everyone else suffer with violence, Regina made the Charming's pay their debt by her own requests.

Prince Charming dismounted his white steed and hid his anxiety well. He passed the carriage that was transporting his expectant wife and gave her a congenial nod as if to say, "Remain calm." Just a few more steps in the mud, and Charming would be a foot away from the Queen. "Your Majesty?" he tilted his head. The words tasted like sour milk in his mouth, yet he had no choice but to utter the title. "How may I be of assistance?"

Regina examined her nails casually, her long, dark hair pulled into a ponytail above her head. She knew her guards were watching, and she knew Snow White was listening. Having an audience only enlarged her ego. "It seems as though we cannot pass. My men are fatigued from the journey. However, you, my dear, have done little to nothing. We cannot continue until this... obstruction is cleared."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Charming bowed in understanding. He removed his heavy, red robes and handed them to his wife. "I'll be but a minute." With adrenaline in his system, the Prince kept straight on, passed Regina's royal carriage and into the trail. What he saw, however, was not a fallen tree, but a man. "Sir?" Charming asked cautiously. "Are you lost?" When the man looked up at his prince, Charming instantly recognized him. "Baelfire?"

Emma Swan had never met her biological parents. She'd tried to find them when she was in her early twenties, but with a young child of her own, her search only lasted so long. At some point, she gave up hope of ever locating them. She had Henry, and he was all the family she needed. Once she came to realize this, the rest seemed unimportant. So, when the unfamiliar face told her that "her family" was in danger, other than bewilderment, Emma felt a tiny bit of hope flutter in her chest. Although, the moment she came back to reality, she was embarrassed she believed the word of a stranger.

"You ready to go, Kid?" she called through their two bedroom loft. With her red, leather jacket on, Emma waited patiently for her 14 year-old in the hallway. "Come on, Henry, we gotta get going."

"I'm here, Mom. You can chill," the sarcastic young man griped. He readjusted his red and gray scarf around his neck so that the ends were even.

"Uh, you wanna rephrase that?"

Henry sighed deeply. "I'm ready to go now."

"Thanks. You gotta lose the attitude, Kid. I know it's part of being your age, but really, not cool." Emma put an arm around Henry as they left their home. They made it all the way to the first floor when the same man in leather approached them. "Seriously? You again? Kid, get your pepper spray," she ordered.

Henry started rummaging through his backpack when the man held his hands up in surrender. "Swan, please, I'm unarmed." His nonexistent left hand was hidden with a glove he'd found outside.

"You know him?" Henry peered up at Emma.

"No, but I know her," Hook said. "And you. It's been a long time, mate. You've grown."

"Back the hell away from my kid," Emma warned.

"Emma, I am not here to harm you. I told you, I need your help," the accented-man repeated. "Your parents... they need your help. And your mother," he directed at Henry.

"Whoa, just... hold on. Who the hell are you?" Emma demanded.

"Apologies, love, I keep... I forget that you don't remember. I'm Captain Killian Jones, but most people refer to me by my more colorful moniker: Hook."

"As in, Captain Hook?" Emma raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Aye, the very same," Hook confirmed.

Emma just stared at the- what, pirate? Her fear quickly turned to pity for the deranged figure. "I take it you're not from around here," she said in a gentle tone. "I know a place where you can stay the night, get some... medical help."

"No! Emma, I know you don't believe me and I don't blame you, but your family does... even if they can't remember, they believe in you. We all do. Please, all I ask is for a bit of your time," Hook pleaded.

Emma debated the captain's offer, unaware that Henry was so interested. "I kind wanna hear him, Mom. Is that ok?"

The blonde looked over at her son, and never one to say "no," she nodded. "Fine. You've got five minutes. But not here. Follow me."

"What are you doing here?" Charming hissed in his comrade's ear. "It isn't safe for you."

"Is that her?" Baelfire questioned. "Is that the woman who murdered my father?"

Charming tried to stand in Baelfire's line of view, "You must get yourself out of here! She does not know who you are."

"But I know her!" Baelfire spat.

"Is everything all right, Charming?" Regina wondered innocently. "You're trying my patience!"

"The situation is under control, Your Majesty," Charming assured. "Listen to me! Let me help you get away!"

"No," Baelfire shook his head stubbornly. His worn out clothes advertised the poor living conditions he'd been under: blood stains from fights, dried mud from drunken falls. "Take me," he begged. "Take me as a prisoner."

"Charming?" Regina called out again.

"Don't reveal my identity, just take me with you."

The Prince looked into his friend's brown eyes, and he saw the despair Baelfire was drowning in. "All right," he conceded. "But do not utter a word to the Queen, or she will have your heart."

"That means nothing," Balefire grunted as Charming helped him up. "My heart is broken anyway."