Broken

It was a dark haired, blue eyed prince Dr. Whale had informed the group after hours of waiting at the hospital. Henry roused from his sleeping position beside Ruby on a loveseat when the young woman leaned over and murmured into his ear. Emma rubbed sleep from her own eyes as she stretched her stiff, aching limbs and rose out of the uncomfortable chair she'd been dozing in. Her eyes fell on the clock, noting that it was just after three in the morning. August fifteenth.

August.

Stop it, Emma.

With Neal out of the picture and Hook gone, Emma had found herself thinking of the man who had showed up in Storybrooke on a motorcycle like some leather-clad, angel-faced harbinger of trouble and adventure. But mostly trouble. She thought of the flame haired child he'd reverted to and sighed heavily. She tried not to be angry with the Blue Fairy, but she couldn't help but think that August's "second chance" was crap. Who the hell wanted to relive their youth? Go through puberty twice? What August wanted was redemption and instead, everything that had defined him; everything he had experienced, that had made him who he was…was gone. Erased.

And then, Emma was also a little jealous. August, like her, had grown up without parents. He'd been in and out of foster homes for years too. But all of that pain and history was gone and he was being raised by the father who had loved him so dearly. Meanwhile, Emma was nearing her thirtieth birthday and her parents were welcoming their second child into the world. She would have to watch her brother grow up with all of the things that she had been robbed of. Not that she resented the baby. Quite the contrary, actually. She was looking forward to watching him grow up and making sure that he was happy and safe.

After a year of living with blissful false memories, Emma found that as bad as reality could be, she wouldn't have traded it for anything. Not even for a second chance at a happy childhood.

Dr. Whale turned to Emma. "They're asking for you two," he informed her, winking at Ruby as Henry scrambled off of the loveseat. Emma followed Dr. Whale down the hall until they reached the second to last door on the left. David was standing just inside the door, looking weary, but happy. Mary Margaret was sitting up in the bed, short hair askew and partially matted to her forehead. Her cheeks shone with sweat, but she looked happy. In her arms was a bundle of blankets with a shock of ebony hair sticking out the top. It was almost comical how much hair the baby had. Henry moved around one side of the bed while Emma moved to the opposite side.

"How are you feeling?" She asked her mother, who nodded tiredly.

"I'll say one thing for this world," she smirked, "they have good drugs. When I had you, it was all natural."

"Yeah," Emma replied dryly, patting her shoulder. "Sorry about that." Mary Margaret reached up with her free hand and covered Emma's hand on her shoulder.

"Well, I'm not," Mary Margaret insisted. "Look Emma, I…"

"Don't worry about it," Emma assured her, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"No, that's not…I just want you to know that me having this baby, it doesn't mean that I'm trying to replace you—"

"Snow, don't…" David interrupted, moving toward her. Mary Margaret put a hand up to stop him.

"No, I need to say this, David." She sighed, taking Emma's hand and squeezing it. "I just want you to know, more kids were always in the works. I wanted more than one. But regardless of the fact that we didn't get to see you grow up, you're still my daughter and I'm still your mother. None of this changes that."

Emma glanced at David, meeting his glistening blue eyes as he nodded. "It's true. Physically, we may be the same age, but I'm your father, okay?"

"You guys, it's fine," she insisted. "I'm fine. I'm happy."

"So, does this make me an uncle?" Henry piped in, obviously looking to clear the tension. Emma gave him a grateful smile.

"No," David replied, amused, "This makes him your uncle."

Emma chuckled, rubbing her temples. "Ugh, is there no end to the weirdness that is our family tree?"

"Could be worse. You could learn you had a long lost half sister…who was green," He quipped, making Emma laugh.

"Poor Regina," Mary Margaret sighed, though she was smirking.

"Poor Neal," Emma added, feeling a slight shred of melancholy at the thought of her first love. She shoved it aside. It wasn't that she wanted to be with Neal; that chapter in her life was long done, but she wanted Neal to be there for Henry. For his father. She missed Neal's calming presence in her chaotic life, romantic or not. But it wasn't meant to be. They had not been written in the stars, as Gold had told her.

"Destiny has a fine way of catching up to us, Dearie," he'd told her when Neal was gone, "Even if we try to change our fate, it always finds a way."

"What is my fate then?" She'd inquired sullenly.

"That's up to you, my dear."

Stupid imp.

A quick knock at the door, followed by footsteps revealed Ruby, out of breath. "Sorry to interrupt," she turned her eyes on Mary Margaret, smiling at the sight of the baby. "Sheriff Swan, you're needed. It's Marco. Pinocchio is missing."

"Pinocchio?" Emma started to follow the woman out of the room, glancing over her shoulder. David nodded for her to go. "Henry is supposed to be at Regina's—"

"I'll make sure to get him there," he assured her. She mouthed 'Thank you' to him, before saying a quick goodbye to Henry and Mary Margaret.

"Ruby!" She called, catching up with her deputy, "Do you have a scent, something to track him with?"

Ruby nodded. "I'll start at Marco's house, see if I can track him down that way. Are there any places you think he'd go? I know he's friends with Henry—"

"I'll look into it," Emma responded, already pulling out the keys to the Bug. Marco was waiting in the lobby of the hospital, looking pale and worried. "We'll find him, Marco."

"Emma, there's something you need to know," Marco told her, "He's been having very vivid dreams lately. Nightmares. And just this past week, he's been sleepwalking. I found him halfway to the well last night."

"He's gonna be okay," she assured him, though she wasn't so sure. She was hoping Eric was awake in case he went down to the docks. The last thing she wanted was a kid drowning thanks to sleepwalking. "Has there been any disturbances for you guys lately? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"No!" Marco exclaimed, sighing. "He was doing so well in school, making friends and was going to join the soccer team. He's been reading like crazy! He borrowed a book from Henry, had ice cream with some boys from—"

"Wait!" Emma gasped. "What book?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What book did he borrow from Henry?"

"Oh it was just the big old book with all of our stories in it. Henry thought it might help him with some of the holes in his memory from back home."

"I know where he is," Emma murmured, turning to halt Marco. "You can't come. It's past the town line…I'll bring him back."

He looked like he was going to protest for a moment, but thought better of it, sagging in defeat. "Thank you," Marco told her sincerely. "My boy is all I have."

"I know." She patted his shoulder reassuringly, before hurrying out of the hospital to her waiting car, noting the wind. A storm was coming; she could feel it in the air. August in Maine on the water was humid and when it was as hot as it had been, storms were inevitable. She had to find Pinocchio before it hit. She sent a quick text to Ruby to let her know what was going on, before turning onto the road that would take her out of Storybrooke. She only prayed that he would be there.

Emma pulled over beside the same Deer Crossing sign that August had parked his bike at nearly two years before. She frowned as she saw a flash of lightning in the distance, feeling a drop of rain.

"Come on, August… be here," she whispered, flipping on her flashlight and looking around the woods, remembering the first time she'd come this way, when he'd brought her. She'd thought they were on a date.

Lightning flashed again, followed by a distant rumble of thunder. Emma thought she saw the shadow of someone small nearby. "Pinocchio?" No answer. "August!" She sprinted toward the tree just as the sky erupted into a full blown thunderstorm. The rain was warm, but relentless, pouring down and making it difficult to see. She reached the tree, slipping slightly in the mud as long, blonde strands of hair clung to her face.

Emma didn't see him at first, nearly turning back in frustration until she caught sight of a red flashing light inside the tree. Frowning, Emma crept toward it, keeping one hand on the butt of her gun. She sighed in relief when she realized it was Pinocchio's light up sneakers. Shining her flashlight into the tree, she saw the boy curled up inside, sound asleep. Bracing one hand on the tree, she leaned inside, placing a hand on the boy's back. He jumped, blue eyes flying open and darting around in horror, before he saw her staring at him.

"Emma…?"

"It's okay kid, I've got you," she told him, holding her arms out. "Your dad is looking for you, Pinocchio."

"Wait!" The boy hesitated, holding back. "How did I get here?"

"You've been sleepwalking," Emma explained gently. "I think it has something to do with the book. You know, the one you borrowed from Henry?"

The boy nodded. "I keep having these dreams…sometimes, I'm grown up. Sometimes I'm a kid and all I can hear is a baby crying." His eyes leveled on her, looking so much like their adult counterpart for a moment, she felt the sting of tears. "Did I really bring you through the wardrobe?"

"Yep," Emma winced as it began to rain even harder. "My car is parked close by. If we hurry, we can—" The sound of cracking following by a loud hum made Emma launch forward to shield him. Light surrounded the tree as Emma managed to drag the child out of it just as lightning struck. The pair of them were blown back by the force, though to her surprise they didn't hit the ground. Squeezing her eyes shut, Emma lowered them to the ground, shielding Pinocchio's head against her shoulder. She saw flashes of color from behind her eyelids and she realized this wasn't just a storm; this was magic.

"Emma…" The boy sobbed, clinging to her shirt.

"It's okay," she soothed. "We're okay." She wasn't so sure. Pinocchio jolted, crying out.

"Ow!" He cried. "My leg! It burns! It burns!"

Emma pulled back, laying the boy on his back and feverishly checking him over. There wasn't a mark on his leg, though he continued to writhe in agony.

"Emma! Make it stop! The burning! My arms!"

"I don't…" She sat back on her knees, trying to think. "I don't know what to do!" Gathering him as best she could, she tried to lift him to take him to her car, but he was thrashing so violently, they fell back to the ground in a heap. With an alarming scream, Pinocchio went completely still just as the rain tapered off, leaving nothing but a soft rumble of thunder and the sound of water falling through trees. "Kid!" She cracked in a broken voice, crawling over him. His eyes were closed and his pulse was vague. "No, no, no, no…come on, Pinocchio. Open your eyes. Stay with me! Pinocchio!" No response. "August! Come on, you don't get to do this to me three times. I can't watch you die again. Wake up!" Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to fall as she tried to do CPR on him.

Emma thought of Marco, who had lost his son twice already; she couldn't bear to tell him that he'd lost him again. It was bad enough she'd lost Graham…and Neal…even Hook. She couldn't lose August too. Even if he was a child, he was still August. She thought of the man he would become. Pinocchio coughed weakly a couple of times, before falling completely limp beneath her. She stilled her hands, bent over his motionless body, gasping for air as she choked back sobs and cradled the little boy's wet head beneath her chin. "It wasn't supposed to end like this, you know," she told him tearfully, "You were supposed to get your happy ending too…" Only then did she bow her head and let her burning tears fall, sliding gracefully down the length of her nose and onto the boy's pale forehead while she rocked his body back and forth.

Distantly, Emma noticed the blinding purple light surrounding the pair of them, holding the boy's body tightly to her, prepared to keep him safe even in death. She owed him that much after all he'd done for her. Even if he'd had no memory of it at the end. "I'm sorry…"

"Emma…" The rasping response startled her so violently that she nearly flew off the ground with him in her lap. Only she couldn't move, because the weight of Pinocchio had changed. He had grown. She opened her eyes cautiously, afraid of what she might find there, wondering if she'd fallen into another trap of some evil or another. Instead, she saw piercing blue eyes staring up at her from her lap. What was most surprising, however, was the delightful scratch of his beard.

"August?" She exclaimed in wonder as a sob broke her voice.

"You saved me…"

"Yeah," she laughed, sniffing and wiping at her wet face with the back of her hand, moving some of the matted blonde hair off of her forehead. "I guess that's kind of my job."

"You crying over me?" He asked weakly, giving her half a smirk.

"Yeah, you know me," Emma muttered, helping August sit up in the lightly falling rain. "I'm a real tear factory." Holding him by the shoulders, she tried to keep her emotions at bay. "What do you remember?"

"I remember Tamara…tasing me…and then I remember trying to tell you and then…I woke up here." His brows furrowed. "What happened?"

"You were a kid again, August. You don't remember that?" She studied him closely, watching realization come into his eyes.

"That was real?" Shaking his head, he rubbed at his temples. "I'm so confused. I don't know what happened and didn't happen. Where is Tamara? She's bad news—"

"August, Tamara is dead." The words hung in the air between them.

August winced for a moment, before nodding. "Good. Though I do feel bad for Neal…" He must have noticed her expression. "What? Is Neal…?"

"He's gone."

"Dead?" August asked in a hushed tone.

Emma shrugged.

"Damn it," he cursed, making a fist. "This wasn't how it was supposed to end. I wanted you two—"

"August," she stopped him. "Even if Neal was here right now, he and I are over. Our time was always over."

"I'm so sorry."

"You have to stop apologizing," Emma scolded. "Look, the thing is…I'm sick of losing people I care about. I said goodbye to one guy, lost another. I don't want to lose you again. Okay?"

Aw, you do care," August grinned, standing shakily on unsteady legs. Emma quickly put his arm around her shoulder, supporting him by the waist.

She snorted. "And you still owe me an actual date." As they reached the edge of the woods, they stumbled, knocking into a tree.

"Do you believe in fate?" August asked, sagging against the tree to catch his breath.

"I'm coming around," Emma allowed. "Why?"

"Do you ever think…maybe if none of this happened? The curse…and we'd stayed back home…d'you think you and I would have…?"

"Would have…?" Emma questioned, feeling her cheeks turn red. "August, I can't even fathom the fact that I would have been a princess. Fancy frou-frou gowns and tiaras and the like. Knowing me though, I probably would have had the hots for the carpenter's son. Princes aren't my thing as you can see from my track record. Thief…huntsman…pirate…"

"Puppet?" He almost sounded hopeful. Emma leveled a glare on him.

"Tell you what, puppet," she told him firmly, "You let me get your ass to the hospital and I'll let you know."

"Deal," he grinned, taking her face gingerly into his hands. "But I like payment in advance."

With that, he lowered his lips to hers.

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