Title: Home Is Where The Heart Is
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Characters: Emma Swan, Regina Mills, Henry Mills, Captain Hook, Walsh, Snow White, Prince Charming, Granny, Zelena, Robin Hood
Category: Romance, Angst, Drama, Memory Loss (I mean, it's Once. According to canon it's not possible to write a story without memory loss.) Canon Divergence AU
Rating: M, for swearing and such
Word count: 57,406 (total)
Summary: Emma Swan is no one's fool. She's certainly not going to drink the strange liquid that the creepy Ren Faire Reject that's been stalking she and her son is offering her in the middle of the street - even if they are in front of a police station. So what's a girl to do? Nothing but go home and get engaged to the great guy in her life. And everything is pretty amazing until her son disappears without a trace. Then she has to go track him down in some tiny town in Maine populated by the strangest people she's ever met and a woman her son has unexpectedly bonded with.
Spoilers/Timeline: For Season 3, beginning with "Going Home"
Author's Note: Many thanks to Oparu for the beta and Race for the suggestions. This fic is better because of them.

Emma Swan paced on the sidewalk in front of the police station. She had already been inside and spoken to them about releasing the asshole who had been stalking her. The sergeant she had spoken to had been skeptical.

Finally he'd given a one shouldered-shrug and muttered, "Your decision, lady." Emma could see any esteem he might have previously held her in falling. It was fortunate that she didn't care about his opinion. She knew just how stupid this decision was. It was never smart to release one's stalker. It only encouraged them, and she wasn't discounting that. But there were those photos. The ones that had been left undeveloped in the camera she had found in Neal's apartment - the camera who's strap had Henry's name on it, and pictures inside it that showed she and Henry in a town they had never been to.

Hook looked exuberant, but not relieved as he stepped into his freedom. Relieved, not to be freed, but that someone had recognized his innocence.

"Hey!" Emma called out to catch his attention. Better not to let him get a word in edgewise. She was the one in charge of this conversation. He was only here because she wanted information from him and Emma wasn't going to let him get her off subject. All she needed was an explanation for the pictures and reassurance that she and Henry were safe. Then she never had to see him again. He had really pissed her off when he had come into her apartment and tried to kiss her, talking about making her do things. He seemed like just the kind of sleazy guy who might work for Neal. It was the only explanation she could think of for him to send her to an apartment that had once been Neal's. Somehow Neal had found out about Henry and thought he could worm his way back into their life through this guy. Not gonna happen. "We need to talk."

"Swan!" Hook called as he descended the stairs, relief plain on his face as he made his way over to her. "I knew you wouldn't let me rot in that cage. I've been in my fair share of briggs...but none as barbaric as that. They force fed me something called bologna."

Emma ignored his whining. She had been in prison before. She knew how shit the food was. A reminder wasn't why she had come here. "What the hell are these?" Emma demanded, thrusting the pictures from Henry's camera at him. "We never lived in a town called Storybrooke. We never took a flight from Boston to New York. We never did any of this!"

"So you believe me then?" Hook asked, serious and intense once again. He really believed these lies he was spewing. They seemed to be very important to him.

"I don't know," Emma said, playing along for a minute. She needed him to keep talking, not shut down on her. "You could have photoshopped these pictures." She wanted him to deny it so she would know he was lying to her. Of course, even if he wasn't lying, it didn't mean that Neal - or someone else - hadn't done it. She wasn't married to the Neal theory. It was strange though - a hell of a coincidence for it not to be related to why this Hook guy kept following her around.

"Photoshopped?" Hook said, shaking his head in confusion - or at least feigned confusion. What kind of idiot was this guy that he thought he could pull off not knowing what photoshopped was in this day and age? Emma didn't have grandparents, but if she had, she would bet even they knew what photoshopped meant. Gossip magazines in grocery stores and gas stations had made the term ubiquitous.

"Faked," Emma said with a little shake of her head, her irritation growing.

"If you think these are forgeries, then why did you spring me from the brigg?" Hook asked, gesturing back toward the jail.

Not a question Emma wanted to answer. She needed to give him a little more rope to let him hang himself. Metaphorically speaking. She looked down at the pictures again, her brain racing as she contemplated her next step, what she needed to say to get him to admit what he had done.

Hook took it for confirmation that she was beginning to believe him, that she had doubts about her certainty that she and Henry had never been to some town called Storybrooke, and continued. "Because as much as you deny it, deep down you know something's wrong. Deep down, you know I'm right." He sounded so sincere.

If Emma were a lonely, desperate woman, she might want to believe him, need to believe that once she'd had something more in her life. Her teenage self would have eaten up this guy and his assurances, his fairy tale day dreams of some perfect life she'd had somewhere else up so fast it wasn't even funny. But Emma wasn't that lonely girl with no family anymore. She had a son, a home and a family. More than that, she was a smart, logical woman and none of this made sense. "It's not possible," Emma pointed out. "How could I forget all this?"

"I promise you there's an explanation," Hook said, but he had never given her one that was even remotely plausible.

"Not one that makes sense," Emma countered. Maybe if she just kept pushing, doubting he would finally break and show his true agenda.

"If you drink this it will," Hook said, fishing that same vial of blue liquid out of his pocket that he'd had with him at the park.

There was no way in hell Emma was drinking that. Even - especially - teenage Emma Swan had known better than to drink some unlabeled liquid in an already opened container that she hadn't watched the person retrieve. "What is that?" Emma asked, still sounding calm and reasonable. "Drugs? Something to make me nice and calm and compliant?" She felt her hands shaking, not from fear but rage. "I've known guys like you - scumbags who have to drug a woman to get her to spend time with them." She choked back the urge to push him, shove him away from her. Suddenly she wanted a shower. Even though he hadn't touched her, she wanted nothing more than to get any traces of this guy off her. She was done here. "Stay away from me and my kid," Emma said, taking a step back. "If you come near us again, you'll be lucky if there's enough of you left for the cops to take into custody." She took several wary steps back until she was out of arm's reach and then, with one last glare, turned her back on him and walked away.

"You haven't seen the last of me, Swan!" Hook called after her. "I won't give up! I'll save you. I give you my word!"

Emma ignored him and kept walking. He was a sad, delusional man and she was tired of humoring him. If he came after she and Henry now, she would make certain it never happened again, but she didn't think he was the type for direct confrontation. Not with the way he had tried to drug her in broad daylight in front of a police station. No, Emma just wanted to forget about weirdos with empty promises and a non-existent family who needed her. She needed to get back to her real family - Henry - and their very real life.