Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters portrayed in this story, those belong to the writers of Once Upon A Time.

Chapter One

Emma felt the waves of panic take over her body. Shaking hands made it impossible to buckle the car seat into her buttercup colored Bug. She knew fair and well that car seats shouldn't be placed in the front seat but Neal had their car and he was missing right now. She bit back the tears that threatened to fall, hoping that Henry would stay asleep for the duration of their ride. She knew she couldn't handle a crying newborn and the fear she felt turning her stomach at the same time.

She finished buckling her sleeping son in and walked around front of her car. She stood there, in the snow gripping her stomach as her knees buckled slightly under the weight of her worry. Her skin felt like it was too tight, her lungs felt deprived of air, gasping for breath she ripped at her chest, hoping, praying, that if she dug in hard enough she could reach her lungs and restore the breath she desperately missed. Her skin crawled, she alternated between ripping at her chest and rubbing her skin, all the while tears cascaded down her cheeks. Emma placed her palms against the hood of the car feeling the cold steel beneath them, bending over breathless, she slowly began regaining her wits when she looked at the tiny bundle in the passenger seat. Her icy fingers grazed the incision on her stomach, finding the warmth she hadn't realize they were missing. She took a deep breath, tasting the chilled air and somehow found the strength to finish the walk to her side of the car.

She stopped short of opening the car door and took in the beauty around her. It was much to warm for the snow to stick to the ground, instead it fell in large flakes, clinging to tree branches and if the pit in her stomach wasn't in its present location she could easily see herself sitting in the front window of the house she shared with Neal, oversized wool cardigan wrapped around her as she clung to a mug of hot chocolate with cinnamon getting easily distracted by another one of her smut novels. She could smell the sweetness of the chocolate, see the flicker of the incandescent lights completing their dance of bronze throughout the room, she could taste cool creaminess of the whipped cream and hear the crackle of branches under the weight of the wet snow. Neal would of course be taking care of Henry, he was so good with him. Neal could always get Henry to stop crying, it was his superpower. Together she knew they would make great parents, if she could find him.

For a moment Emma got lost in her thoughts and forgot about the black hole forming in the center of her being. She felt as though the hole would absorb her. With that she opened the door and slid into the driver's seat, gently double checking the seat belt that held her tiny human in his seat before starting the car.

–

She drove down the winding path with uneasy caution, passing snow covered pine trees on her way to the convent. Once she reached town, it seemed like every building held a memory. She careened to a stop at the street light and found her reminiscing of their youth, how she met Neal in the alleyway behind the now updated apartment building as she made an escape from bad date. She told him she was going to the bathroom and but suddenly stopped at the doorway. She looked into the bedroom of her date, his name escaping her right now, and she had two thoughts. One she could use the restroom to gather her bearings, splash some cold water on her face from the white pedestal sink, surround by antique white tile, yellowed with age. She could look into the mirror of the generic metal medicine cabinet and receive the pep talk she needed and return to her date. She could have laughed at his inappropriate jokes and leave when the time was right. Option two, she could take her heels off and stride across the oak plank floor to the window. She knew the window wasn't painted shut as the summer breeze came through the window causing the pale blue curtains to open under the wind, as if the curtains were hugging the gusts like a long lost friend. It took only a minute for Emma to make her decision that night. She removed her hairband from her dainty wrist and tied her hair up into a messy bun. She removed her teal stilettos from her feet, instantly feeling the relief that came with taking them off and held them in her hand, and within moments she was scurrying down the fire escape, her date none the wiser. The door to the simple sedan beneath the escape had been left unlock and Emma couldn't help but think that people made it too easy. Emma slid into the drivers seat, feeling the cool leather against her bare skin. The plastic of the steering column lifted with ease and she reached for the wiring harness ready to get to work hot wiring this car.

"You could have asked for the key," Neal said, startling her.

Emma jumped, she didn't even notice the attractive brown eyed man in the backseat. His Boston accent was thick and Emma found herself at a loss for words.

Neal waved the long flat head screw driver in front of her face, sliding into the passenger seat with ease. "So," Neal chirped, "what are the chances of us both trying to steal the same car?"

"About a bazillion to one I'd assume," Emma retorted bitingly. The sharpness at which the words left her mouth even annoyed Emma. She didn't want to steal the car exactly, she just wanted to get away from...

"Glenn!" Emma said out loud, remembering the name of failed date that led to her meeting Neal. The light remained red and Emma found herself listlessly falling back into the memory.

She recalled driving the 20 minutes in silence, neither of them willing to succumb to the quiet. It was nice, Emma thought, silence was a commodity when you were in foster care. Many of the homes she stayed in had ten or more children in it, most of them newborns and most of them had been born addicted to one drug or another. Quiet was not something that came easy then and as a result she enjoyed silence.

Neal was the first to break the peace by introducing himself.

"Neal, Neal Cassidy," he said extending his hand.

"Emma Swan," she responded, removing her hand from the steering wheel only briefly to shake his.

"Must of been a pretty awful guy if he has a broad like you sneaking out of the apartment and stealing cars," Neal said coyly.

Emma pulled into the parking lot over looking the ocean. She heard Neal she just chose to ignore him at that very moment. She reminisced about how they talked all night, toes buried in the sand as they watched the sun rise. She remembered the comfortable silence as they returned the sedan to the alley, full tank of gas and any evidence of what they had done and where they had gone had been cleaned away or fixed. She never intended to steal the car, at that moment in time she wanted to feel alive.

–

Emma found herself stroking the keychain Neal had gotten for her when the light turned green, snapping her back to reality with such force she felt winded. She moved her hand from the keychain to the scar that transversed her stomach just above her pelvis and traced the raised incision line in soft even motions.

She was never a bad kid per se, she just had it much more rough than most. While most parents kissed their kids good night Emma bounced around from foster home to foster home never staying at one place long enough to remember her parents names. Most of the time she was removed from the home because the authorities thought she was being abused. In some instances she was, like the time her foster father broke her hand for taking the remote from him or the time she had her shoulder dislocated by an older boy who threw her against the wall for being in his way. Other times the bruises and cuts the doctors found came from Emma playing too rough during flag football or falling off her bike. Either way the authorities never took chances and as a result Emma never put down roots. When she was 18 she packed her bags, took what money she had saved up and she left for Boston, never looking back.

She was proud of the progress she had made in the following 4 years, finding Neal, having Henry, she even took the first steps to finding her biological parents. She and Neal were making a life and a home together and she was beaming at how strong she had become and how she finally let someone in. The chasm in her stomach began to open again as her thoughts slid back to Neal.

Emma drove for the next ten minutes before stopping at the intersection. She looked to her left and looked to her right, and that's when she realized that the restaurant to her right was French's. She was jarred back into another memory of her and Neal, reliving the first time he told her that he loved her.

–

The day of Emma had spent all day at the jail, helping the sheriff with a couple of outlaws she had brought in. The life of a bounty hunter was exhausting and she wanted nothing more than to go home and take a bubble bath. She thought back to that day, easily recalling the feeling she felt when she saw the small gift bag laying on the bathroom floor. She opened the bag and pulled out a yellow dress that was anything but her style and a red leather coat that would soon become a staple in her wardrobe. Inside the bag was a note from Neal none the less. She recalled sitting on the lid to the toilet and reading the note out loud.

Em,

I know its been a rough week and you would

prefer to stay home and eat ice cream on the

couch, but I figured you could slide into this

dress and meet me for dinner. 8PM – French's

Yours,

Neal

P.S. Don't forget to shower, you stink!

Emma giggled as she read the note, heading Neal's advise for the shower. She turned and locked the bathroom door, a habit she was never quite able to break from her time spent in foster care, and turned back to face the mirror. She examined herself in the mirror, wondering what she had done to deserve a guy like Neal. She watched herself as she undressed in the lavender and black bathroom. First her jeans, then her panties. Emma stood, shoulders squared to mirror as she lifted her tee shirt above her head, flinging the shirt toward the door. She made quick work of unsnapping her bra, completing the action in one sift movement. She dropped her arms in front of her, allowing her undergarment to land at her feet. She stood there, naked and as she normally did, she examined herself for flaws. She sighed at the mirror and started the shower, adjusting the metal hanger that always slid off the rod as she stepped in. Emma always let the water hit her hands before allowing it to engulf her. Hands firmly behind her back, palms facing up, once the rest of her body adjusted to the heat she took a step back, dropping her hands. The water felt hot against her back, melting her tense muscles as she moaned softly at their release. She reached for her neck, rubbing in small circles until the muscle there gave way to her efforts. Her hair fully wet she reached for her shampoo, the smell of apple filling the room as it mixed with the steam to be carried off to the corners of the cramped bathroom. Before long her conditioner was in her hair and she reached for the coral colored loofa that hung precariously on a single suction cup attached to the peach porcelain shower wall. She placed a dime sized amount of her apple body wash on the sponge and worked it into a lather. She started at her neck, allowing the warm suds to slither down her breast, her nipples reacted to the sensation almost instantly and she cooed at response her body provided. She decided that she would forgo any further temptation and finished her shower, rinsing her conditioner from her hair quickly. She twisted the dial to turn the stream of heat off and grabbed her towel. The hair follicles on her legs stung at the absence of the water, notifying her that her shower may have been too hot, an idea she quickly brushed off knowing fair well there was no such thing as too hot when it came to a shower.

Knowing her hair would turn into loose waves if she let it dry on it's own that's what she did, instead taking the time to put on make-up. She started with a primer, followed by a smoky eye, eyebrow filler, eyeliner, two coats of mascara (waterproof to be safe), foundation, blush, highlighter and ending with the pièce de résistance her red lipstick. Emma examined herself in the mirror, thankful that the dress Neal had purchased could be worn without the assistance of a bra and she wouldn't have to be completely uncomfortable at dinner. She grabbed her lipstick from the sink and slid into her nude heels before shrugging on the red leather jacket. As she left the tiny apartment she grabbed her purse and her keys, tossing her lipstick into the former before exiting the building, double checking the lock for good measure.

She walked down the block to the quaint french restaurant that sat on the corner. Ivy covered a majority of the facade leaving only one red awning standing alone in a field of green. Black bistro tables lined either side of the path leading up to the door. Emma felt the smooth brass under her hand as she pulled the door open, the smell of garlic and fresh baked baguettes overwhelmed her nostrils. Emma closed her eyes, inhaling the intoxicating aroma. She was taken aback when two strong arms wrapped around her waist pulling her close to his muscular frame.

Neal pressed his forehead to her temple, allowing his lips to brush over her ear as he whispered "I knew that dress would look stunning on you," sheepishly into her ear.

Emma twirled in his arms, kissing him quickly on the lips before Neal stopped her to tell the waitress he had a reservation. A few moments passed and they were seated, fresh baked bread laid piled in the basket on the table.

"May I start you off with something to drink?" The waitress asked with a smile.

"A bottle of red wine." Neal said unflinchingly.

Neal couldn't keep his secret any longer. He had planned today out to be special, but now, seeing Emma before him, he couldn't wait. Neal produced a small black velvet box from his pocket. They had been dating for nearly three years but the vision of the box had sent Emma into fight or flight mode as she looked anxiously for a fire escape.

Opening the box Neal looked deeply into Emma's green eyes and the words he produced immediately put Emma at ease. "Move in with me?"

Emma's smile reached her eyes as she looked down and saw nothing more than a house key in the box. Sure they had been together for awhile but Emma had her reservations. She didn't know if she wanted to married ever, let alone now. Grateful there wasn't a ring in the box Emma removed the key from box and placed it, along with the swan keychain on her keys.

Emma stood up placing her hands on the table, leaning over so that she could reach Neal. She left one hand on the table and placed another behind his neck, easily twisting her fingers into his coarse brown hair as her lips found their way to his. Suddenly Emma wasn't hungry for dinner.

Emma leaned closer to Neal, peppering the side of his face with kisses until she reached his ear. After playfully nipping at the lobe she whispered breathlessly, "How about we skip dinner and go home for dessert."

Neal grabbed Emma's hand, pulling her to the door. Emma giggled at how carefree she felt. He apologized to the waitress for their sudden departure, leaving her a couple dollars on the table for her trouble. As soon as they were out of the crowded establishment Neal picked Emma up in his arms, kissing her as deeply as he could breaking the kiss only to tell Emma how much he loved her, before placing her on the seat of his motorcycle and driving in the direction of home.

Looking back Emma was almost positive that Henry was conceived that night.

–

Brought back to the present by the incessant honking of the vehicle behind her, Emma checked each direction one more time before making a left hand turn at French's and driving to just before the outskirts of town.

The convent wasn't far away now. Just one more intersection and she would be there. She rubbed the cut across her abdomen as she slowed for another red light. Karma wasn't really on her side tonight. Usually she never had to wait for red lights going this way. She knew, through years of perfecting technique, that if she drove 37 miles per hour down this particular road that she would not get stopped by the red lights. Fate apparently had other plans tonight. Outside the car she heard the bell of a shop door closing. Looking to her left she saw August leaving the quaint antique store that he ran with his father.

–

Emma remembered the day like it was yesterday, two months to the day after she moved in with Neal, he told her about the wonderful little antique store he found just on the outskirts of town. She specifically remembered him telling her that if she'd blink she'd miss it. They decided to make a special trip to the antique store, perhaps Emma could find a new book or a bedside lamp as her lamp was suddenly inoperable. They walked down the worn carpet covered stairs leading from their cozy little one bedroom apartment to the exit, passing the faded green floral wallpaper and exit sign that was always apparently broken as it was never illuminated. Neal held the heavy oaken door open for her as she braced herself for the cold that was January in Boston. The car ride to the antique store was quiet. Both of them opting for the silence that came so easily for them. Within minutes they found themselves in the tiny five car parking lot outside of Booth Antiques. Emma recalled the moldy smell of books, covered in age, the way that the dust caught the light from the plate glass window. Emma found herself instinctively going over to peruse the books, looking for an old copy of Alice in Wonderland. As a child Emma had always found herself drawn to the story of the blonde outsider who one day finds herself in a mysterious and magical place. She often pictured herself as Alice, escaping even if only temporarily from her less than magical life. Her eyes widened as she found the blue hard cover book with green writing down the spine. The inside cover had charming illustrations of some of her favorite scenes in dark green ink, the paper itself yellowed with age and wear. Emma proudly pulled her find off the shelf and went to locate Neal.

"Em, could you come here?" Neal called, his voice echoing in the small shop.

The walls were covered in dark wood paneling, numerous chandeliers hung from the ceiling, illuminating the quaint antique store. Emma looked at each one as she approached the glass display cabinet decorated with brass filigree.

"What do you think babe?" Neal asked pointing to the small antique ring.

The mine cut diamonds didn't glitter like modern cuts, but Emma found herself breathless none the less. Her eyes softened with affection as she looked at the man who wanted to be her husband.

"Neal," Emma said in almost whisper.

"You don't have to propose to me just because I'm pregnant," her eyes and smile widening saying the words out loud. She was certain that he already knew, her penchant for rocky road ice cream as of late and her desire for nothing more than grilled cheese and onion rings to eat for every meal was a dead give-away. Besides it had been two months without her complaining about the cramps that Aunt Flow brought with her. He had to know, she was certain of it.

"I'm..." Neal struggled to find the words, his eyes growing wide with excitement and fear, "I'm gonna be a dad?"

Emma could only nod, her eyes welling with tears that threatened the breach the dam if she wasn't careful pregnancy hormones be damed.

"I'm gonna be a dad!" Neal screamed, scooping Emma into his arms and spinning her around the shop. Neal dropped to his knees and kissed her belly.

"Hey Slugger, I'm your daddy," Neal said into her still flat stomach rubbing small circles with his thumbs as he rested his hands on either side of her belly.

"She'll take the book, we'll be back for the ring. We have some baby supplies to buy," Neal told the clerk, his smile reaching his eyes.

–

Emma couldn't remember a happier time. She found herself thumbing the same small circles against the edges of her scar as the light turned green. The convent was the next block over. She looked over to the passenger seat where her angel slept, softly cooing to himself. Tears welled up in Emma's eyes as she thought about how lucky she was to have two amazing men in her life. Henry and Neal had easily became her world, which is what made the task she was to perform next even harder.

Thanks for reading I hope you enjoy it! This is going to take awhile but hopefully you guys like it. Any reviews and criticism would be greatly appreciated! -L