So, this is the first that popped into my mind. It's just a theory, that I felt I needed to write. Hope you don't think it's too bad. English is not my first language, and I haven't been writing in English for years!(I think 6 more or less). So please bear with me.

Love,

Marta

"Emma…Emma…Emma…EMMA".

She woke up with a jolt, feeling confused and disoriented for a few moments before recognizing where she was. She was warm, comfortable and she felt safe. She was home, in her bed. She closed her eyes, willing her breathing to return normal, her body to stop shaking, and her irrational fear to go away, but she was unsuccessful. It was as though everything was all wrong: she should be in a different bed, in a different room, in a different time. It was as though she had been somewhere else just mere moments before, and she was yanked away and back to that room in a matter of seconds. She opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings: her white comforter, her bedside table, her lamp, the chair upon which there were too many clothes, the closed wooden door, the white ceiling above her, the clear glass window that let some light into the otherwise dark room. She was home, in Storybrooke, exactly where she should have been, and where she had been all night long, of course. Her mind knew that, but her gut didn't. She took several deep breaths. Everything was quiet, there was a silence that should have been comforting, but, strangely, it wasn't at all.

For the first time, Emma craved to hear her little brother's cries, needed to know that she was not alone, that the world wasn't as still as it seemed in that moment.

And maybe it was her magic, or maybe it was the blood bond, or maybe it was just that it had been three hours since the last milk feed, but as soon as she thought it, she heard her brother's piercing cry.

She smiled and without consciously knowing what she was doing, she got up from the warmth of her bed and almost ran to the crib.

"Hey there sweetie!" she cooed, smiling at the little body moving restlessly under her gaze, "What's the matter honey? You hungry?", she whispered picking him up, paying attention to cradle his head properly, and holding him against her chest, his presence more comforting than it should have been for a grown up woman. And a savior.

Little hands reached toward her breasts, trying to pull at the material that covered them, and Emma laughed quietly "Sorry sweetie, but there's nothing there for you. Come on now, keep company to an old woman like me and let your mom sleep. She's very tired, you know?". She walked to the little sofa in the middle of the room and sat down, pulling a blanket over the two of them.

She didn't realize when, but at some point she found herself singing. She realized then, that she never heard that song before and she didn't knew it, but nonetheless, she was singing the lyrics. The instant she noticed that, and tried to listen to the words she was singing, her mind went blank, her mouth closed, and, even though she spent several minutes trying to get that song out of her again, she didn't succeed, the tune caged into her brain with no intentions of getting out anytime soon.

She looked at her little brother, peacefully asleep in her arms. She put him back in his crib, careful not to wake him, and went back to bed, hoping to sleep some more.

Eventually sleep came to her, just when a familiar tune resonated into her ears, sang by a sweet, velvety voice.

"Emma…Emma…Emma…oh that's my girl!". It was that same sweet and velvety voice, but this time there were blue eyes too. And softness, someone was kissing her cheek. And it was so soft, and it smelled so good. And they were hugging her so tightly. She felt so safe.

For the third night in a row, Emma awoke with a start.

Ever since her confrontation with the Snow Queen (she didn't know her name so she decided to call her like that), she had been having this weird dreams. Actually, they weren't really dreams, because she barely saw anything, there were mostly sounds, voices, sensations and feelings. She was reluctant to even think it, but they were a lot like memories of a distant past. A past who probably didn't even exist, because if that was the case then she would have memories of it. Conscious memories that she would have had her whole life.

She felt restless and anxious, as if a weight was pressing on her chest, impeding her to breathe, so she got up and headed to the kitchen, deciding that a hot cocoa with tons of cinnamon was the answer to all her questions that night. Or at least it would help her relax and get some quality sleep.

Again, she acted without thinking, as if on some auto-pilot mode, and some time later she found herself sitting on the sofa, startled by her brother crying, a bowl of ice cream on her legs, and a spoon in her mouth. She didn't have time to ponder as to how or why she was eating ice cream because her mother entered the room. Snow smiled one of her blindingly bright smiles while she picked up her son and started talking to him in hushed tones, cradling him in her arms , half bouncing half walking toward the sofa. And it was only when she was about to sit, that she noticed her older daughter, "Emma? What are you doing here? Are you feeling okay?" she furrowed her thick, black brows, so different from Emma's, as she sat down beside her. She took in her daughter's disheveled appearance, in her red eyes, in her confused expression, and in the half eaten ice cream bowl on her legs. "Why are you eating ice cream? It's freezing outside" she said, her eyes never leaving her form, "Emma, is everything alright? Should I call Doctor Whale? Hook? Henry?". It was obvious that something was wrong. Emma sitting alone, in the dark, bundled up in blankets, in the middle of the night, eating ice cream while there was an unexpected magical winter blossoming and flourishing over the town, was not normal.

But then Emma smiled, a forced smile, (but a smile nonetheless Snow thought) "No mom, I'm fine really. Just couldn't sleep and thought this might help".

"You thought ice cream might help?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, you know what they say: 'There is no problem that can't be solved with a bit of ice cream'".

Snow blinked "Really? Who says that?" she smiled tentatively. After all, there were so many things she didn't know about this word…

"Uhm…" Emma didn't know how to respond to that, because she didn't know who said that. It just came out of her mouth instinctively, naturally. And that scared her. She needed to escape her mother's knowing eyes and think. Alone. Now. "I don't know, it's just an old saying. Doesn't matter. Uhm, well I think the ice cream worked!" she exclaimed, faking and enthusiasm she surely wasn't feeling in that moment, and jumped from the couch, startling little Neal. "Oh sorry! I think I'll go in my room now and let you two to your things" she bent down kissing her brother's forehead and her mother's cheek, almost running to her room. She couldn't sleep anymore that night, only able to pace back and forth in that secluded space where she could be alone, trying uselessly to remember something, anything really, to recall…she didn't know what, but she knew there was something awakening in the depths of her mind and it was so close to making itself fully known. But, apparently, not that night.

In her room, she couldn't see her mother looking sadly at her , once again, closed-door, feeling left out of her daughter's life, feeling more useless and anything but a mother than she had ever felt. Sighing, she observed her son, now sleeping soundly in her arms, and promised herself that she will be a real mother for him, always there, no matter how. And she will be as much as a mother as she could for Emma too, no matter how much she tried to keep her out.

Taking a deep breath, she got up, glancing at the bowl forgotten on the small table. Who knew Emma liked Rocky Road…, she mused.

The Snow Queen stood there, in the middle of the forest, as beautiful and as lethal as ever. Emma was several feet away, hidden behind some bushes, waiting for the right moment to ambush her.

Anna, Elsa's long-lost sister, no longer lost, was standing far from the Queen, a mix of fierceness and fear depicted on her young face.

Suddenly, the Snow Queen tilted her head to the side, something she did often Emma noticed, and raised her arm. She knew what that meant: she was going to use her magic, and, knowing the woman, not in a unharmful way. She didn't know what happened back in the day between the Queen, Elsa and Anna, but it was clearly something bad.

And, once again, Emma found herself acting before thinking. She run towards them just as a white blur of snow was forming in the Queen's hand (Emma thought it was eerily similar to how Regina produced her fireballs), and the ball was shot towards Anna.

Thankfully the snow ball (how it sounded innocuous in her head!) didn't hit Anna. Nor her. Emma jumped on the girl and managed to get them out of the ball's path, rolling tangled together on the hard, wet ground.

"Emma!", the Snow Queen cried in the distance.

And, in that moment, everything came back.

Suddenly, she no longer was on the ground of Storybrooke, but she was a small child, in a place that was familiar, but she couldn't quite name it. She was wearing a pale pink ruffled dress, one of her favorites, and she was running toward someone. That someone was a tall, slender woman, with blonde hair, blue eyes and the sweetest of smiles, she was kneeling so to be eye level with her. Emma literally leaped into her arms, and the woman caught her, hugging her impossibly tight while spinning her around, laughing uncontrollably along with the little blonde haired girl. She stilled then, looking at her lovingly "So, how was your day at kindergarten sweetie?" she asked, caressing her blonde curls.

Emma shrugged and smiled, but was interrupted by her teacher " Emma was very good today Ms. Swan, as always. We watched Peter Pan and she liked it very much, didn't you Emma?" the young woman said from behind her.

The girl nodded and started jumping in the woman's arms "Yes! Yes! I love it! I like Captain Hook, he's so funny!" she giggled joyously.

"Ah, but Emma, he's a villain! You're not supposed to like him" the blonde woman scolded her affectionately.

"Oh but he makes me laugh! Can I watch it at home too?" she asked as the woman started to walk away in the direction of the exit and to the car, giving her the best smile she could muster up.

"Mmmm I don't know…"she answered while buckling her up in her seat.

"Please Mommy!" Emma begged loudly, and the woman stopped her ministrations, looking at her daughter, she smiled and kissed her cheek. She always smelled so good…

"Alright, you win this time Emma".

And then, as soon as she left it, Emma was back on the solid ground of the forest, in Storybrooke. The only thing that was still the same, was the face of the blonde woman looking at her, kneeling beside her, worriedly calling her name.

"Emma? Are you okay?" the Snow Queen asked, caressing her cheek, stroking her hair.

"Stay away from her!", her father's voice came from what seemed to be very far away, yet her mind knew he was closer than she thought, or she wouldn't have heard him.

Truth to be told, Emma was still too shocked by her…memories? To focus on anything else but the woman in front of her. With some effort she managed to stand up by herself, she tried to take some dust off her clothes, a mere expedient so to gather her thoughts and figuring out what to do.

By now Anna, Elsa, Snow, David and Killian were surrounding her and the Snow Queen, but both women were oblivious to the world outside the two of them.

"Emma?" the Queen asked, probably somewhat worried by her silence and her puzzled expression.

"Mommy?" yet again, Emma's body was completely out of her control and the word flew out of her mouth.

The Snow Queen froze, shocked, her icy blue eyes jumping everywhere without really seeing anything.

"What?" she staggered, backing away from the savior, "I think you hit your head pretty hard Sheriff".

"No. No, I didn't . I remember you" Emma said, her voice sounding way surer than she felt, and she took a step forward.

"I'm sure you're a bit fuzzy right now…" and as she said that, a white vortex formed at her feet, ready to take her wherever she wanted to.

Emma panicked. She was so sure of her memory (by now she knew it was a memory and not some kind of allucination), and she knew she just couldn't let her go. Yes, she was evil. Yes, she hurt people. Yes, she didn't really know her. But that woman knew her, and her past, and if there was something that Emma needed, were answers.

"No wait!" she cried, but the vortex was spiraling higher and higher, engulfing the silver clad woman. No, no, no, no, no she couldn't geta way! Not now! She needed answers!

"Please mommy!". Maybe after all of this was over, Emma should go to a good neurologist and get a complete check up, because it wasn't normal not having control of her mouth whatsoever.

The vortex stopped, snowflakes hanging mid-air around the Queen, and Emma could hear her whole family gasping. She could only imagine how much her mother would be hurt in that moment, but that was something to deal with later. Right now, she needed to speak with the Snow Queen, that was standing rigid and still in front of her, tears in her eyes.

"Please, don't go. I need answers. Who are you? How do I know you? How come i didn't remember you?" she started questioning.

Minutes passed without a word being uttered. Even the forest was quiet and still. No one moved, no one dared to breathe too loudly, and Emma couldn't take her eyes from the Snow Queen, who seemed to be in the same predicament as she was.

Finally, she took a breath, and spoke "Emma, you know exactly who I am".

"No I don't" she countered "I remember living with you, and thinking you were my mom, but I know you're not. Just as I know that I lived with a family for the first three years of my life, but then they gave me up because they had their own baby. And yet, I remember living with you, and you being called Ms. Swan" she explained, moving closer "but that makes no sense", she whispered, her face a mask of confusion.

The Queen smiled, that very same sweet smile and of course Emma knew that smile, and of course she recognized it "Of course it makes no sense. It wasn't supposed to, because you weren't supposed to find out. You weren't supposed to remember. You were so little, your memory still so fresh and flexible…" she trailed off.

"Well, I guess it had to come out at some point. The truth is…" she paused for a moment, looking at Emma's family, before looking her straight into the eyes "I, much like Elsa, was feared by my people, in my time. They saw me as a monster, a witch, uncontrollable and unstoppable, something to be feared and extirpated, rather than a person to talk to and to understand. I'm not gonna bore you with the details of how I was imprisoned into the same urn Elsa was into. That urn is very special: it doesn't kill you, or really cage you, it's a portal, created to send those like me, like Elsa, and like you, Emma" she put emphasis on her name, that sounded so different spoken in her silky voice " somewhere where we're harmless. Somewhere where we can be controlled, where we're not so scary anymore".

"Somewhere where you don't have your magic" Emma thought out loud.

"Exactly" the Queen smiled " A land without magic. And guess where that land is?"

"Here" Emma breathed "You were sent here".

"Yes. For many, many year I wandered through this world with no recognition of anything, with no friends, no family, and without a part of me: my magic. I was alone, without purpose nor goal in life. But, eventually, I adjusted to this bizarre world and created a life for myself. Untill, one day, I walked by an orphanage, and I decided to go in. And you were there" she smiled the brightest smiled Emma had ever seen, and she found herself smiling too in spite of everything "and I couldn't resist you. So, long story short, I adopted you, you got my surname, Swan, the surname I had given myself in this world, and we were blissfully happy. But then, the day Hans opened the urn, it was the reverse process: I got sucked back into it and returned to Arendelle" she whispered with tears in her eyes.

She took a step and was in front of Emma, her hand coming to stroke her wet cheek. She didn't realize she was crying…

"It was all so sudden, I couldn't do anything about it, I couldn't fight it. I disappeared right in front of you. Your cries still echo in my head at night" she sobbed, "I'm so sorry I left you, but I had no choice. I tried to hold on to you, but the magic didn't work that way. One person went in the urn, and one person had to came out of it." She said, and she tried to wipe away her tears with her fine, pale hand.

"I hoped that you could forget it all, forget the magic you saw, because no one would believe it and I didn't want you to be put in some institution, but luckily you forgot all about me and my magic. It was better this way. This way, you got to live a normal life, even if, since you're here in Storybrooke, I supposed your life stopped being normal at some point", she half laughed.

"But I didn't!" Emma cried "My life was not normal. I grew up feeling rejected, being lied to, jumping from a foster house to another! Never once someone loved me. You were the only one, and I didn't even remember you!" Emma was crying, sobbing, and she felt pathetic, but she couldn't help herself.

"Oh Emma…" the Queen started, but Emma shied away. It was too much. Too much pain, too much hurt, too much to process. She needed to think, to retreat, to metabolized everything. And put some distance between herself and the Queen, and between herself and the three-year old girl she once was.

"Anyway" she said stiffly "i don't even know if what you're saying is true. I don't trust you and I'm not sure I can believe you", the Queen started to protest, but she interrupted her "Regardless, you have been here for a long time, and we know nothing about you and your intentions. So, if you really care about me and you are as harmless as you claim, tomorrow come to the station and we'll have a little chat".

And then she turned around and walked back to where she thought she had parked her bug, almost running through the forest, vaguely hearing Killian and her father following her, shouting to wait.

But she couldn't. She needed to be alone.

She needed to think.

And ice cream.