Tonight is the night, isn't it? Emma Swan glances at her wrist as the elevator door opens. She scans the busy restaurant as she steps out of the elevator. Waiters and waitresses mill around and people chat in hushed voices in the dim light. She spots the man she is looking for and crosses the floor in the heels that pinch her feet too tight. She looks good as she saunters unevenly across the room and meets up with the man. He looks over her, appraising her and she glances down at her wrist again, glad that the seconds tick by but there are still hours left until she would finally meet the one. He stands, places his napkin on the table, steps forward and reaches his hand out with a questioning tilt of his head.

"Emma?" His voice is softer than she expected, and his smile is warmer. She takes his hand and they shake firmly.

"Bryan?" She smiles. "You look relieved." He lets out a sigh and grins.

"Ah, well, it is the internet." He tells her as he pushes her chair in for her. A gentleman. She smirks to herself. "Pictures can be –"

"Fake, outdated, stolen from a Victoria Secret Catalog." Emma supplies with a chuckle. "So…" She smiles awkwardly, she wants to play up the act as much as she can.

"So, uh, tell me more about yourself, Emma." He says, aiming to ease her nerves.

"Oh, uh, well, today's my birthday." She tells him honestly.

"And you're spending it with me? What about your friends?" He leans forward.

"Kind of a loner." She supplies pressing her fingertips against the ever counting down numbers on the skin of her wrist, under the table.

"You don't like your family?" He asks.

"No family to like." Emma tilts her head.

"Oh, come on, everyone has family."

"Technically, yeah," she agrees, "and everyone knows who they are." She stares at him with a blankly worried expression, like she expects him to bolt.

"Ready to run yet?" She asks seriously.

"Not a chance," he smirks, "you, Emma, are by far, the sexiest friendless orphan that I have ever met." He chortles. She laughs along even though not an inch of her finds it funny.

"Okay," her voice goes up in pitch at the end as she tries to conceal her true feelings, "your turn," she starts waving her hands in excitement, "no, wait, let me guess! Uhm," she looks over him, "you are handsome, charming,"

"Go on."

"The kind of guy who, uh, now stop me if I get this wrong," she says suddenly serious, "embezzled from your employer, got arrested and skipped town before they were able to throw your ass in jail." He grins at her, as if he's missing out on her inside joke.

"What?"

"And the worst part of all this, is your wife; your wife loves you so much that she bailed you out and how do you repay that loyalty? You're on a date." She finishes. He wouldn't meet her eye.

"Who are you?" He asks angrily, the vein in his temple throbbing.

"The chick who put up the rest of the money."

"You're a bail bondsman."

"Bail bondsperson." She corrects. He sneers down at the table before suddenly throwing it up against her and spilling the drinks and plates and silverware all over her and the ground. She jumps out of her seat and he runs off in the direction of the stairs.

"Really?" Emma groans. She follows him down and crosses the street, ignoring the cars that come towards her. She watches proudly as the stupid man gets in his car, starts it and tries to drive away only to open his door and find his back tire booted. She marches across the wet pavement, car horns beeping at her in protest, heels and toes aching in pain and smiles at him as he looks up at her pleadingly.

"You don't have to do this." He tells her, as if she wants to do anything else. "I can pay you, I've got money." He says. She shakes her head.

"No you don't. And if you did, you should give it to your wife and take care of your family." She is incredulous. The scum she handles would never cease to astound her in all the worse ways."

"What the hell do you know about family, huh?" He asks. A white hot rage, a fury so wild it clouds her vision, overcame her and she stomps forward and slams his head against the steering wheel of his car. She stares at the stunned man.

"Nothing." She says to no one.

She enters her dark and lonely apartment with a white take out bag in her arms containing a single cupcake. After closing the door, she immediately kicks off her heels and leans on the wall. The numbers on her wrist continues to count down, as if mocking her, she isn't going out again tonight. She's going too light her candle, blow it out and make a wish like she does every year. Not to be alone. She stares at the flame on the blue star candle in her tiny cupcake.

"Another banner year." She mumbles, chin resting on her folded arms, she closes her eyes tight and blew out the candle. Not to be alone. The doorbell rings and her eyes snap open in surprise. She checks the numbers, still several hours are left. She walks over to the door and yanks it open, lowering her gaze to the boy who occupies the rug in front of her apartment, she hesitates.

"Uh, can I help you?" Her hand comes to rest on the door jam.

"Are you Emma Swan?" He asks. He's maybe nine or ten. He is well dressed and his hair is neatly combed.

"Yeah?" She furrows her brows. "Who are you?"

"My name's Henry. I'm your son." He smiles hopefully and bounces up on his toes briefly. Emma stares at him blankly. He smiles again and ducks under her arm.

"Whoa, hey, kid, kid," he continues into her apartment, "kid!" She cries uncertainly. Whoever raised him needed to have a long talk with him about boundaries and talking to strangers and a whole slew of personal safety subjects. She closes the door and follows him.

"I don't have a son." She enlightens. "Where are your parents?" He turns and looks at her.

"Ten years ago, did you give up a baby for adoption?" He asks. She just stares. God, yes, she did.

"That was me." He says. She thinks she might throw up, or pass out.

"Give me a minute." She turns and leaves, heading to her bathroom. After slamming the door shut she breathes in and out for several minutes, letting the thoughts circle her head faster and faster until:

"Hey, do you have any juice?" His voice filters through the door. This kid. This Henry. "Never mind, found some!" He calls. This is supposed to be the best night of her life and it is very quickly spiraling into one of the worst. She opens the bathroom door and comes out to find him sitting at her counter gulping down the juice she had in her fridge. Straight from the container, just like she did.

"You know, we should probably get going." He smiles at her like she's his savior and she approaches him like he is a dangerous weapon. She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Going where?" She doesn't have any plans of going anywhere with the kid, she wants him gone and out of her life as fast as he can be thrown out of it. She has someone to meet after all. A very important someone.

"I want you to come home with me." He says hopefully. He is so hopeful and his smile is the same as hers. She's horrified.

"Okay, kid, that's it, I'm calling the cops." Emma says walking across her apartment to the phone.

"Then I'll tell them you kidnapped me." Henry says as she picks up the phone. She sighs and clicks end on the phone.

"And' they'll believe you because I'm your birthmother." She frowns.

"Yep." He is all serious.

"You're not gonna do that." She works with liars and swindlers and hustlers for a living, she can call a bluff when she sees one.

"Try me." He has a stone cold poker face for a ten year old. She smirks.

"You're pretty good, but here's the thing, there's not a lot I'm great at in life, but I have one skill, it's called a superpower. I can tell when anyone is lying, and you kid, are." She starts dialing.

"Wait, please don't call the cops, please." He begs. She hesitates and looks at him. "Come home with me." He invites again.

"Where's home?" She wonders.

"Storybrooke, Maine." He answers and she doesn't believe it.

"Storybrooke, seriously?" He hums in affirmation.

"Alrighty then, let's get you back to Storybrooke." She heads to her room and he slides down from the barstool and starts following her.

"Nuh uh, I'm gonna change, and you're gonna put my juice back in the fridge." She tells him.

-Time Flies like an Arrow-

They have been driving for only a short while, she can feel whenever the kid in her passenger seat turns and looks at her. Finally she glances at him, he twists away.

"I'm hungry, wanna stop somewhere?" Henry asks.

"This isn't a road trip, we're not stopping for snacks." Emma tells him. That's right, no nonsense, he has to be reprimanded for what he's done tonight, but it isn't her responsibility to do that.

"Why not?" He asks, not understanding.

"Quit complaining kid, remember, I could've put your butt on a bus, still could." That thought seems to be sweeter and sweeter the more the kid beside her chatted on.

"You know, I have a name, it's Henry." He says. She glances at him again. A large book sits open in his lap.

"What's that?" She wonders.

"I'm not sure you're ready." He sounds like he has some big responsibility on his shoulders. She wants to laugh, but senses it would make him close off.

"Ready for some fairy tales?"

"They're not fairy tales." He snaps in the way only a ten year old can. "They're true, every story in this book actually happened." He says angrily, as if his anger was the only way ot make her see clearly.

"Of course it did." She turns back to the road. Great, she has a crazy ten year old sitting in her car.

"Use your superpower, see if I'm lying." He begs, still angry. She turns and looks at him. He isn't. Damn.

"Just because you believe something, doesn't make it true."

"That's exactly what makes it true; you should know that more than anyone." He says.

"Why's that?" She turns to face him. The small space in her car seems to get smaller.

"Cause you're in this book." He says.

"Oh, kid, you've got problems." She sighs. She can't hold it in anymore.

"Yep, and you're gonna fix them." His voice sounds so sure and she wants to tell him she can't fix anything.

As they pass the 'Welcome to Storybrooke' sign, Emma feels relief spread through her. The town is small, and asleep, which doesn't surprise her, it is nearly eleven.

"Okay, kid, how about an address?" She prompts as she is driving around.

"44 Not telling you street." He answers. She slams on the breaks and her car skids to a stop. She throws her door open, gets out and slams it shut. Sparks shower from the powerline above her. God, she is so furious, all she wants to do is meet the person of her dreams, her soul mate, and this kid had to come and ruin everything.

"Look, it's been a long night," she says angrily as he gets out of her car too, "it's almost," she glances up at the clock tower, "eight fifteen?" That can't be right, it was eight fifteen when she got home earlier.

"That clock hasn't moved my whole life." Henry says. "Time's frozen here." He explains. Emma looks at her wrist. Less than an hour, holy shit, that means her soulmate is in the town. She looks wide-eyed at the kid. She wants to tell him that just because the clock stopped working didn't mean that time was frozen.

"Excuse me?" She folds her arms across her chest. Pressing her wrist against herself.

"The Evil Queen did it with her curse, she sent everyone from the Enchanted Forest here."

"An evil queen, sent a bunch of fairy tale characters, here?" She clarifies.

"Yeah, and now they're trapped." He nods.

"Frozen in time and stuck in Storybrooke, Main. That's what you're going with?"

"It's true!" He pleads. His eyes are so wide and they hold the innocence of the world and he just wants her to understand, but she can't.

"Why doesn't everyone just leave?" She asks. She shouldn't be playing into his delusion.

"They can't, if they try, bad things happen." He explains ominously.

"Henry!" A man cries out. Henry turns away from her and she looks up at the man who is walking his Dalmation across the street. "What are you doing here?" He asks as he heads twaord them. He uses an umbrella as a walking stick.

"I'm fine, Archie." Henry smiles and pets the dog who sniffs at Emma, interested.

"Who's this?" Archie asks, looking at Emma.

"Someone trying to give him a ride home." She answers.

"She's my mom, Archie." Henry explains happily.

"Oh," Archie doesn't seem convinced, or happy to see the woman. "I see."

"You know where he lives?" Emma asks.

"Oh yeah, right up on Mifflin Street, the Mayor's house is the biggest one on the block." He points with his umbrella, his dog shuffles uneasily.

"You're the Mayor's kid?" She looks down at Henry who refuses to look up from the spon on the ground he is suddenly very interested in. Unbelievable.

"Uh, maybe." He answers.

"Where were you today, Henry, you missed your session?" Archie asks and the boy turns up his face to him.

"I forgot to tell you, I went on a field trip." He smiles, crossing his arms. Emma frowns. Lie. Archie frowns too, kneeling in front of him.

"Henry, what did I tell you about lying?" He asks. "Giving into one's dark side never accomplishes anything."

"Oooookay," Emma stars, was everyone crazy in this town? "I really should be getting him home." She says. Archie nods and stands up.

"Yeah, sure, well listen, have a good night, and be good Henry." He says. Emma smiles at him as he walks away. Her face turns serious as she moves to the boy.

"So, that's your shrink?" She asks.

"I'm not crazy." He argues. Right, not crazy.

"Didn't say that, just, he doesn't seem cursed to me. Maybe he's just trying to help you."

"He's the one who needs help, because he doesn't know."

"That he's a fairy tale character?" Emma probes, still not believing.

"None of them do, they don't remember who they are." He starts heading back to the passenger side of the car. Emma wants to scream.

"Convenient. Alright, I'll play, who's he supposed to be?" She opens her door.

"Jimminy Cricket." He asnwers.

"Right, the lying thing, I thought your nose grew a little bit." She gets into the car.

"I'm not Pinocchio." He grumbles.

"Of course not, because that would be ridiculous." Emma agrees slamming the door shut.

-Time Flies like an Arrow-

"Please don't take me back there." Henry pleads as Emma pushes open the wrought-iron gate and heads up the walk.

"I have to, I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you." She says.

"I don't have parents, just a mom, and she's evil." He replies desperately. Emma rounds on him.

"Evil? That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"

"She is, she doesn't love me, she only pretends to." Emma looks down at him sadly. She doesn't even know what its like for someone to pretend to love her.

"Kid," she bends down so that she is at eye level with him, "I'm sure that's not true." The door to the mansion opens and a woman runs out. She wears a grey dress and has short black hair.

"Henry!" Her voice is relief and home and safety. "Henry." She is on the verge of tears, and so happy to see her son. Her heels click across the stones of her walkway as she runs up to her child and wraps her arms around him. Emma snaps up and her wrist burns.

"Are you okay?" The woman asks turning Henry to face her. Emma is too caught up in her wrist. Fuck, that hurts, no one said it would hurt. The numbers were all zeros and her eyes widen as she looks back up to the woman.

"Where have you been?" She asks her son and glances at Emma briefly, not really seeing her.

"I found my real mom." Henry yells and runs past the woman. His voice is so thick with anger and hate that it makes Emma's heart pinch for this other woman. This woman who is her soul mate. She turns and looks at Emma, devastation is evident on her features and Emma doesn't know what to say. The thousands and thousands of times she had imagined this moment, none of the scenarios looked like this. The woman curses as the pain in her wrist tears through her arm. She brings it up to look at and sees the zeros burn into her skin. Her eyes flick up to Emma's face with new emotion in them. Hope.

"You're Henry's birthmother?" She asks, disbelieving.

"Hi." Emma is hopeful. This may not have been what she imagined since she was a child and she learned what the numbers on her wrist that counted down with each second, hour, day, year that passed meant.

28Y 0M 0D 8H 45S has been clocking down since the second she was born, and now the numbers have finally stopped. Finally. Emma continues to give the woman a hopeful smile. The brunette looks Emma up and down, she barely hears the Sheriff behind her as he explains he is going to check on Henry.

"How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?" She asks with a small smile.

"Got anything stronger?"

I'm going to let you guys decide whether or not this story follows along with Once Upon a Time's plot arch, or if you want this to be a completely different AU and nonmagical. So vote in the reviews. Is Henry right? Or are they just delusions?