This is for the lovely Lari (captainswanapproved) over on Tumblr as her Secret Saviour gift. It is accompanied with a gifset as well, so if you'd like to just go to my blog and check it out - my blog is the same name as here!

Thanks to Jenna (captainswanismyendgame) for beta'ing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing - if I did, they would've banged already.

It is really AU, not only in the concept but to the point where Henry is involved but he is not Emma's son.

One month ago

She was waiting for Neal to get off, hanging out in the alley behind the pawn shop where he works and from where he oh-so-conveniently liked to steal watches. They were supposed to do something for her birthday. He was supposed to get off two hours ago, and god knows what he's probably doing right now, but it was obviously not meeting her when he said he would. She's had enough. Sure they had their fun, her 17-year-old self actually liking the attention, considering she never had that growing up in the foster system, but she's had enough with the missed meetings and him blowing her off for other friends.

She leaves a message on his phone, one that he'll probably never get. She turns to leave, pushing herself off the wall with the heel of her boot. As she's walking away she hears a distant wailing noise, going in and out multiple times. It was loud and scary and being in a dark alley didn't help much. She looks around her, wondering where the hell it was coming from as it got louder and louder.

Suddenly she hears a creak come from behind her. Swinging around, she's facing a large blue cupboard-like box with a young man stepping out. What the hell is that? She thinks, as the man steps farther out, his head bent down, checking out a large silver hook attached to his left arm. Okay Emma, now might be a good time to run, the rational part of her brain says. The not-so-rational part of her, however, says that a big blue box seemingly fell out of the sky and there just happens to be a very handsome man with tousled dark hair and a leather jacket and an air of experience standing before her.

She always did have a curious side.

They exchange introductions, her suspicious side coming out as she shakes his free hand, remembering she has a can of mace she keeps in her jacket pocket. She can never be too careful.

But he turns out to be pretty nice, if a bit whimsical and eccentric. He's got bright blue eyes that hold the wisdom of a thousand men that came before him and he's a hint of ginger in his scruff and dimples that add to his boyish charm. Add this on top of the accent that makes her weak in the knees and bring up memories of journal entries written in the middle of the night while she hid under covers, talking about how she'd travel the world one day.

She's a goner.

-/-

And little did she know she'd be offering her hand to him.

Little did she know she'd walking into his flying blue box, him hot on her heels.

("…but, it's bigger on the inside!")

("Yeah, yeah. Like I haven't heard that one before.")

Little did she know she'd be walking into the unknown, with this man who calls himself the Doctor, as in the show - which he ardently insists he's not a part of but she doesn't believe him, of course - never to look back again.

-/-

Present Day

They thought they were in the 50's, so of course she dressed up, still remembering the tingles low in her belly at the look the Doctor gave her when he saw her in her pink dress and nude heels and one of his leather jackets draped across her shoulders. He insisted she wear it, saying he had plenty in the closet. Funnily enough, even though she's been with him for almost a month she still has yet to see him out of his jacket. She'll dress up when they go to different places, or buy new clothing at bazaars held on different planets, but him? No, he's still in this stupid leather jacket.

-/-

(Part of her thinks it's because he doesn't want her to see his arm - where the brace hits and shows scarring from where a large machete had swipedhis left hand clean off. She remembers the story well, the look of sadness in his eyes. He said it happened when he was with his last companion, Milah. They had gone to a time in the distant future, a space station city, where they stayed for over a month -hislongest stay anywhere. Apparently Milah had fallen for an underground rebel leader who had a jealous streak.

He had seen Milah and the Doctor together and proposed a fight. Not one to back down, the Doctor agreed, immediately regretting when his opponent sliced his hand off at the wrist before plunging his weapon right into Milah's chest. The Doctor went years without another companion, choosing to travel on his own;not wanting that same thing to happen to anyone else.

But he said everything had changed when he ran into her in that alley on that fateful night. He knew he couldn't not get to know her.

She'll be eternally grateful.)

-/-

As she steps out of the Tardis, wobbling slightly in her heels, she realizes that they're not in the 50's anymore, Toto.

In fact, as they come to learn, they're in another realm altogether. Not another world, a realm, at least that's what the screen in the Tardis had said, confusing the Doctor even more than her. Sure they'd been to several different worlds and met all kinds of amazing species of creatures, but never another realm. How is this possible, he had uttered when they had first landed. Anything is possible, she whispered back.

She knows now that there are such things as Weeping Angels and Daleks and Slitheens. One month ago, she never would've thought this possible. Time travel, it's a scary a thought. It's something you see on tv, she used to think, not something that actually happens in real life. As time went on she got used to traveling in time, going from one century to another in the blink of an eye. She was genuinely excited, given how cynical a person she can be. However, throughout all of this, he was adamant that true magic did not exist, that what was seemingly magic to the eye was just another form of science.

However, when they arrived here, in this realm, all of that went to hell.

That's right, his whole shtick that magic didn't exist, that it was all simply science, was thrown out the window when they arrived in a curious place called Misthaven.

-/-

They had tried to leave several times after they arrived, not seeing anything worth staying for, but the Tardis didn't seem to want to be working. Every time they tried to make a go of it, the lights would shut off and the whole machine just powered down.

So they stayed. They've been here for several weeks now, not being able to leave, and honestly it drove her nuts because all she would hear for hours on end was the Doctor's complaining that "he doesn't stay anywhere more than a few hours, he doesn't settle down."

"Well, you're going to have to get used to that, okay? There's nothing we can do about it right now," she had snipped, aggravated that he wouldn't stop talking about it. She saw him cast a surprised look in her direction, but she chose to ignore it.

(Another part of her was aggravated because she's seen the way he looks at her, the way he acts around her – the twinkle in his eyes as he flirts with her, his tongue pressing against his lips, his hips cocked towards her – you don't act that way around someone you don't want to settle with.

And she's scared. Because she doesn't think she could live without him now. She's never fallen this hard and fast for someone before, not even Neal, and the thought of him not wanting to spend the rest of her life together scares her more than anything.)

Therefore, they did what they had to. They had to blend in, because wearing high heels and hoop skirts and bomber jackets would not bode well here. They had come across many different types and classes of people, quite a few people that they continue to talk to daily. One of those being a young man that goes by the name of Henry. He said he was thirteen years of age, the son of a local female thief by the name of Regina, whom they never met. However, he was a kind kid, showing them different places to get food and cloth for new clothes, and even a private swimming hole that he frequents often.

She was going to be sad to leave him when they finally do manage to depart this realm.

-/-

At one point, on their fourth day stranded, they ran across a band of pirates docked in port, bringing large barrels off of their ship, heading towards a tavern along the shore – most likely to rest and recharge.

Emma, being the take-charge kind of young woman she was – and a woman of stealth – seized the opportunity to sneak on board while the crew was away and grabbed clothes that looked like they would roughly fit both of them. They had to act like one of the crowd.

Now here they were, hiding amongst smelly men in a low-lit tavern, silently chewing on their food. Her in a flowy blouse covered in a blue vest, made up of some form of suede-like material and tight breeches, and him in a tight fitting leather number, not much different to his usual ensemble – seriously does this man look good in everything.

"You know, you could be a bit less of a Debbie Downer, Doctor," she accused, picking a piece of chicken out of her teeth with the prong of her fork. His face was holding a barely concealed scowl and a furrowed brow. She tried to make him laugh, but he remained completely stoic.

He was staring off into space, his food picked at but hardly eaten. Snapping her fingers in front of his face, she exclaims a little louder, "Doctor! Hello!"

He snaps to, bringing his eyes to hers, but still remaining silent.

She's had enough. "Okay, what is going on with you? You've been acting strange for the past couple of days."

He sighs, his hand reaching up to nervously comb through his wild hair. "I'm sorry, love. It's just something feels off here, doesn't it? Like everything is just too peaceful, it doesn't make any sense." His bangs are now laying across his eyes, giving him a much more brooding look, especially when mixed with the eyeliner she made him put on for shits and giggles.

She wants to kiss him then – whether to shut him up or because she likes that he worries a lot, always wondering what is going on; she doesn't know – but she refrains. She'd rather do that somewhere quiet and alone, not with wenches and pot-bellied sailors roaming around.

Clearing her throat and wiping her face mouth off with a kerchief, she places a hand across his, trying to calm him. "I'm sure it's probably nothing. Maybe it truly is just a peaceful place. And hey! It's new for us, being in a realm, right? It could be meant to feel this way to outsiders, especially with magic involved." She squeezes her fingers around his.

He loses a bit of tension in his shoulders, but still wears a guarded expression. "Yeah, yeah. You're probably right. I'm just overthinking it."

She smiles at him reassuringly, and takes a gulp of her ale, watching attempt to eat his biscuit. Yet she can't shake the feeling that maybe he is right.

-/-

He was right.

He's always fucking right.

They had left the tavern about twenty minutes after they dropped the conversation, only to walk into chaos on the cobblestones streets. Men and women and children were running this way and that way – how did they not hear this from inside – hiding under wooden shop tables or in doorways to get away from whatever was chasing them.

She and the Doctor didn't know what was the cause of the ruckus, seeing as there was nothing but a stampede of people and nothing else running their way. That was until they heard a loud scream and a mechanical form of a gunshot.

They both looked at each other, recalling how familiar that sound was with fear in their eyes.

Daleks.

"What?" She gasps out. "How is that possible? How could they be here?" She said, as they ran towards the source of the noise.

"I don't know, darling, but keep running!" She fails to mention that they're running straight into the mayhem until they get there. Coming up short at the corner of a nearby building, they stand still watching as more people keep filing out on the streets.

"Emma!"

They turn their heads back towards the direction they came from, seeing Henry running up to them, out of breath.

The Doctor grabs him by the collar and pushes him towards the wall – "Stay hidden," he commanded – keeping a protective arm over his chest. They whisper to him, asking what he knows, but he knows nothing. He had been out collecting food for his mom when he saw all of the people running past him. He says that he need to see what was going on; he's curious that way.

Funny, she thinks. We're a lot more alike than I thought.

The Doctor sighs, clearly frustrated with the situation. She throws a questioning look to him, silently asking if he knows how they got here in the first place. She knows he knows.

Running his hand through his hair, he says, "I'm not exactly sure how it's possible. I mean, I was confused enough about how we got here. Maybe…I don't know, maybe they found the Tardis' frequency and latched onto it somehow. It's not completely unheard of."

"Okay," she looks back around the corner, seeing a pair of Daleks gliding around, "but how does that explain how we got here? We certainly didn't get pulled by any frequency."

"It could've been," he scratches behind his ear, his breath catching in his throat, "I mean, it could've been m-magic. It seems to exist here, right? We've seen it. Remember the Queen, with the fireball? I've seen many creatures that can do a lot of crazy things, but not once have I seen someone conjure something like that, especially that quickly."

"Yeah, but…" However her words get caught in her throat because he's no longer listening. He raised his shoulders, the fabric of his vest pulling across his pecs. He tells her and Henry to stay where they are, saying he's going to attempt to negotiate with them, reason with them. She's wary, but she agrees. She has to. He doesn't ask, he just does.

It's one of the reasons she loves him.

She stands back, peeking around the corner as he confidently makes his way over to the tins of metal. She breathes in deeply, wringing her fingers together, fearing what can happen. Standing in front of the two main Daleks, he opens his mouth to speak, ready to reason.

But before he can even get a word out, there's a blast and a bright light and suddenly he's slumping forward – falling, falling, falling – and every sound around her is completely muffled except for his cry of anguish and the sound of his knees hitting the cobblestone. She's so in shock she doesn't realize exactly what happened until she start to run from behind the wall – a scream of "no!" ripping from her throat but Henry pulling her back by the arm, making sure she doesn't get caught in more of the crossfire.

He succeeds in bringing her back, keeping his hand on her arm – a small form of comfort – but all she can do is stare. Stare at his crumpled form, his hooked arm twisted at an odd angle in front of him, his face still in a grimace from the rather quick execution.

She's shaking, from head to toe. With uncontrolled anger and sadness and despair but all she can do is keep watch until those things leave; she can't risk anyone else getting hurt on her behalf.

So she waits, as patiently as she can, bouncing on the balls of her feet and gnawing her bottom lip between her teeth. They're slowly circling around his lifeless body, making sure he's really dead – he's really fucking dead – before they seem to find what they're looking for and turn around and leave. She doesn't hear any more shots being fired.

The minute they're out of sight she runs, out of Henry's hold, sprinting to the Doctor's side – where she's meant to be. She shakes him, wanting to believe it's not true. But no matter how hard she throttles him, grabbing his lapels and pulling;hedoesn't even budge.

"No, no, no! You can't do this, you don't get to do this." She slumps forward, resting her forehead against his exposed collarbones. "You promised-you promised, we'd be with each forever. I'm never leaving, so neither can you!" Tears are prickling at her eyes, a couple falling and landing in the ruffled hair on his chest.

Sniffling, she sits back up, determined. She moves to sit next to his head, bringing it up to rest on her knees. She runs her fingers over his stubble, bringing her fingers up to his lips. She's always wanted to kiss him, after getting over the initial shock of traveling with a 945 year old Time Lord, she truly got a good look at him. He was most definitely handsome, but there was more to him than that – his generosity, his enthusiasm, his outright nerdiness, and the most important of all, his all-encompassing need to never leave her behind.

Yet here she was, cradling the head of the beautiful man she could see herself being with for the rest of her life, while he lay motionless and no longer breathing.

She wasn't to believe there's something she can do, that someone here in Misthaven can do – it is a placed riddled with magic. However, she knows there's always a rule against bringing someone back from the dead.

She lets it be. She doesn't want to, but it's all she can do. She has to tearfully say goodbye, no matter how much it hurts.

Leaning forward, she runs her hand through his hair one last time while placing her lips on his. She finally got that kiss.

Suddenly, there's a pulse in the air around them, ruffling through the tendrils of her air and making her shiver and rip her lips from his. What the hell was that? Her lips still tingling from the electricity that passed through them, she looks around here to see if there's anyone who saw that and could tell her what the fuck just happened. That is until she hears a gasp and someone pulling at the ends of her hair.

She whips around, backing up and holding a hand to her chest because – "no no no, this can't be happening, what the fuck, I'm hallucinating" – and he's just staring open mouthed, lips turned blue from the lack of oxygen for so long.

He reaches for her, and she flinches away for a fraction of a second before looking him in the eye, silently asking how this is happening. He caresses her cheek with his thumb, the palm of his hand resting underneath her jaw and she shudders in a gasp, her heart beating a staccato beat against her ribcage.

He smirks. "Couldn't keep me away for long, could you, Swan" and "Now I think we know how we got pulled to this world." As if she has magic within her.

Maybe she does.

(And he loves that part of her – along with every other part he's a fan of.)

She needs to figure this out, needs to know exactly who she is.

But first she's taking him away from this place, back to the safety of the Tardis, she's not letting him out of her sight again.

-/-

(Five month down the line, they're still traveling together. The constant push and pull of saving the world and saving each other. They've been back to Misthaven a few more times since then, mainly to see Henry – and finally meeting his mom, a woman by the name of Regina.

She was a bit wary of them at first, understandably so, and kept giving Emma weird and guarded looks, but she never thought on it that long. She was just glad to be back, no matter how short the window.

She learned more about the apparent magic that was in her, which still confuses her, but she's learning. She'll never know where it came from, but she's definitely grateful. Otherwise he wouldn't be here today – or he'd be another face, as he said.

The thought of him being different scares her, but she loves the man, not necessarily the face – no matter how gorgeous it is – and she knows she'll be with no matter what, for as long as can be.)

-/-

Every year on her birthday, Emma Swan lights a candle, close her eyes, and wish upon every star in the galaxy for a way to make it through this – for adventure and fun and love.

Every year she wishes, and suddenly, he appears.