For a bunch of fairytale characters, the people of Storybrooke really knew how to celebrate. What was supposed to be a simple celebration felt more like a frat party, a far cry from the "luxurious balls" depicted in any story book. Our house was filled with half the town, all gathered together for what was suppose to be a simple family get together. But I guess that's what's to be expected when being raised by pirates and part of the most famous family in town.

I was managing my way around the crowded living room, occasionally receiving a pat on the back, a side embrace, or promises to catch up later from people I pass. Everyone wore a smile on their face. The air was filled with laughter, chatter, and the light music playing underneath it all.

As the night dwindled down to a couple of close friends and family, I was doing a sweep through the house when something outside the window caught my eye. I turned to see a familiar dark figure standing on the porch. I slipped out the door, quietly approaching my target as the soft sounds of what was left of the celebration seeped out of the house. Getting closer, I could hear his murmurs flowing on the soft breeze of the evening wind. I stopped a few paces away, seeing him lean against the railing watching the clear night sky. I waited until I thought he was finished.

"Papa," I called, getting his attention. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just talking to your mother."

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From the moment I woke up, despite the warmth of my bed and the presence of my stuffed friends, I could tell that something felt wrong. It was as if the whole world changed, but I didn't know how. Something was missing, but I didn't know what. The first thing I thought was to go back to sleep. Maybe if I woke up a second time everything would go back to normal.

It didn't work. I opened my eyes to sunlight pouring through the window, the faint sound of birds chirping reached my ears. I was comfy wrapped up in my blankets, head buried in my pillow, but it all felt like a lie. From there, only one thought crossed my mind: Find Mama and Papa.

I jumped out of bed and ran to their room. I climbed up into their bed but they weren't there. The sinking feeling only got worse growing with every passing minute. My heart started pounding with one penetrating thought running through my head, where's Mama and Papa? Once I was able to wiggle my way off the bed, I made my way downstairs. I looked in the kitchen thinking maybe Mama and Papa were making breakfast, but they weren't there either.

My eyes were wet and my lungs started to burn when I heard something from the living room. I spun around and saw Papa sitting on the couch. I let out a relieved "Papa" and ran to him. He enveloped me in his arms, pulling me into his lap. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder and seeking the comfort I desperately needed. After letting the few tears I had fall, I picked up my head and looked around. "Where's Mama?"

Papa didn't say anything for a moment, "Mama." He looked away from me and coughed before trying again, "Mama went somewhere."

"Where?"

"I'll tell you later," He said quickly before looking back at me. "Right now how about we have pancakes?" He lifted me into the air and carried me into the kitchen.

The strange feeling never went away.

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That night, Papa took me on the Jolly Roger. I was so excited because it was the first time he let me help steer the ship. Papa stood behind me, supporting me as my feet rested on the inner wheel between the spokes. I was gripping the handles as his hands covered mine, helping me keep the wheel steady. I couldn't stop laughing, I was so happy.

We sailed a little bit away from the dock before Papa dropped the anchor. Everything was so peaceful. I was never on the Jolly Roger at night, and the water made it look like we were sailing through the night sky.

I was on the deck watching the water glisten in the moonlight when Papa knelt down and showed me this golden triangle that had a picture of a horse on it. He called it a sextant and told me it was for looking at the stars. He then pointed up at the night sky and showed me all these pictures it held.

"Now lass look over there," Papa said as he pointed to the sky. "Do you see those two big stars and the four little ones? It's a swan."

"Like Mama?"

"That is Mama." I looked at Papa confused. "Hope… remember how I told you Mama went somewhere?" After I gave him a nod, he continued. "Well, she had to go live in the stars. She drew that swan so we could always find her."

"Why?"

"Because she had to."

"Can we go to the stars too?"

He looked at the floor clearing his throat. "I wish we could little love…" He looked at me with a small smile, "But I promised Mama we would stay here and keep an eye on everyone."

"But what about Mama?"

"Mama will always be with us. She's here." Papa put his hand on my heart. "And we have the swan to find her every night. We can talk to her and tell her about everything she misses, and if you listen carefully you can hear her talk back."

I looked up at the stars. I stood there for a moment before the wind whispered to me. "I hear her Papa," I said before whispering back, "I love you too Mama."

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I was three when Mom died. Since that day, every night I insisted Papa and I go outside or up to the window to find the swan in the stars, to find mom. We used to have a whole routine where we would talk to Mom and tell her all that has happened that day along with anything else that came to mind.

I remember falling asleep at the window more than once in a state of peaceful bliss as my mother wished me a goodnight from above. It used to be my favorite part of my day. I couldn't wait for the stars to come out so I could "see my Mama." Once they showed up, I would tell her about all the stories Henry told me, all the games Neal and I played, and even about the cookies Aunt Ruby had snuck me.

Papa would never talk to Mom, at least not when I was talking to her unless it was to remind me of something I forgot about. But this wasn't the first time I caught him talking to Mom.

##########################

A couple days later, Grandma and Grandpa came over with Uncle Neal. Henry, and Aunty Regina came too. Everyone was in black and kept hugging me. Papa told me we were all going to Granny's to eat and that I needed to wear a dress.

When we got to Granny's everyone seemed sad. Everyone kept looking at us and saying sorry. Why were they sorry?

I didn't like it. I didn't like everyone looking at me. I didn't like everyone saying sorry. I didn't like everyone looking sad. I didn't like everyone wearing black.

The whole time, I stayed close to Papa and Henry as we sat at our booth and ate. Sometimes someone would come up to us, but Papa would tell them to go away. I heard him mutter, "Swan, give me strength."

I didn't like Papa being so mad. I wished Mama was there.

#########################

I woke up on what I could immediately tell was our couch. The light of a movie playing on the TV helped me as I took in the space around me. Goosebumps ran up my arms and I realized that the front door was open. As I approached the door with intentions to close it, the sound of a familiar voice stopped me. Poking my head out, I saw Papa sitting under the bright canopy of stars, his voice sounded breathy, I couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Papa?"

"Oh, love, I thought you were asleep." He scrubbed his face as I walked over to him. I curled up in his lap and once I was settled, he wrapped his arms around me. "I was just talking to Mama."

"Hi Mama," I yawned.

"I was telling her how much better you're getting with a sword. She wasn't at all surprised - she always said you would be a great little pirate." As he spoke, he rubbed my back in the soothing motion.

"Can mama come to my birthday?"

"I'm sure she would love to come." He stood up still holding me, "Now, let's get you to bed."

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A boisterous laugh coming from the party inside pulled me from my memories. My fifth birthday party was the first party we held at night, and we had it in our backyard. Ever since then, we celebrated everything at night, just to make sure mom would be here. Ignoring the antics of our guests, I leaned my head against Papa's shoulder settling in next to him.

"She's quite talkative tonight."

Looking up at the sky I whispered, "Oh, what's she saying?"

"You can't hear her?" He bent his head down slightly to look at me, "No, you haven't heard her in a long time."

"Well, she's saying how happy and proud she is of you." His accent drifted on the wind as he looked back at the sky.

No not at the sky. At her. At Mom.

"She says you've become such a strong, smart, independent, beautiful woman. She misses her little pirate princess that you once were." A gentle grin stretched out across his features as he continued. "She loves you so much and she couldn't be prouder."

I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face. "I love her, too. And I'm glad I could make her proud."

We stood in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. The wind whistled through the otherwise silent yard. A shiver ran down my spine. "Ooha, Papa it's getting a little cold. Let's go back inside."

Rubbing my hand on his arm, I turned starting back towards inside. Leaving my hand on his arm stretching out my own until I was too far away letting my hand fall back to my side. I froze when I heard my father speak again.

"I wish I could join you, love."

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It was when I was watching "The Iron Giant" with Henry for the first time that I really gave thought to the concept of death.

"Things die. It's a part of life… it's not bad to die… Souls don't die."

Those words triggered a thought I've been successfully suppressing for years. They were the start of accepting the reality no one would dare say aloud. Mama's dead.

"Hey. Hey it's okay. It's just a movie." Henry's voice made me realize my face was wet. I didn't even realize I had started crying.

I looked over at Henry and asked, "Henry," my voice quivering despite my best efforts. "Did Mama die? Is her soul in the stars?"

Henry's eyes went wide, "Um… well…" He looked at me and then sighed. "I promised never to lie to you, right?" I nodded my head. "Yeah. Yeah, Mama died."

I sat there for a moment fighting with a lump in my throat the size of our house before asking the one thing most prevalent in my mind. "Is Papa gonna die?"

Before Henry could answer, the sound of the front door opening broke through the atmosphere. I ran over to see that Papa was home. He was on the phone, still half in the doorway, but regardless of the manners I had been taught, I couldn't leave the matter unaddressed. "Papa, when are you gonna die?"

Papa glanced over at Henry before speaking into his phone once more. "One minute."

A sob burst out of me as I lunged myself forward grabbing onto him. He knelt down holding my shoulder so I would look at him. "Wow, lass. It's alright, I'm not going anywhere. Do you know how old Papa is?" I sniffled, trying to get a control of my breathing and once I had it, I shook my head. "I'm over 300 years old and I promise I will live for another 300 years okay?"

I nodded, still trying to calm down as he embraced me, whispering soothing words in my ear until I finally felt at ease once more.

##########################

I was still processing what he said as I turned around. "What," I asked hoping that I heard wrong.

I walked up to him and faced him. I placed my hands on his arm as I pleaded, "Papa what did you just say?"

Papa sighed. "She said she's feeling lonely and missed her favorite dashing rapscallion." He let out a small chuckle before the smile dropped from his face. "That's when she asked when I was going to come to her," he explained.

The weight of what he was saying hit me and I pulled away from him slightly. His eyes remained forever on the stars. On his wife.

"I was just telling her I can't join her. Not just yet. I still have another 300 years before we can be together again. I can't leave you just yet."

I took a moment to look at my father, to really look at him. The big strong pirate I looked up to my whole life melted away. His hair was a mix of gray with the black it used to be, he had bags under his eyes and his face was slightly wrinkled. But it was more than that. His body was draped in a tiredness I never saw before. His eyes shined with a sadness and longing I never noticed. He looked as if he held a great weight on him waiting to be relieved. I couldn't help but feel the promise he made when I was ten was apart of that weight.

Memories flooded my mind but it was as if I was seeing them through new eyes.

On that first morning, his face was red and slightly puffy, his voice was gruff. It all clicked together - how tightly he held on to me, carrying me everywhere, refusing to let me go. Like if he did let me go even for a moment, he would lose me too. Then there was the tremble in his voice when he first told me how mom was in the stars, the way he stiffened when I asked if mom could come to my birthday and the concern and fear in his eyes when I asked when he was going to die.

I saw my papa's' eyes glisten with unshed tears. Every hitch, quiver, and tremble in his voice when he spoke of her was now as vocal as the roar of a lion. The way his body went stiff and rigid anytime I asked about her was now so obvious. Everything he tried to hide to protect me, to stay strong for me, became clear and I wondered just how I could miss it.

This whole time, he had to be the strong one because he had to raise me. Because I lost my mother, but he lost so much more. He lost his wife, his true love, and the happy ending they never fully experienced. He lost a part of himself, his Swan, and never got to properly mourn for her because he had to push forward and be my Papa.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I placed my hand on top of his and told him, "It's okay, Papa. If you want to, you can go. Go be with Mom. I'll be alright."

A kind smile spread across his face as he finally turned to look at me. Shaking his head, he teased, "Nah. You can't get rid of me that easily. I have a promise to keep. I did my waiting, and now it's her turn. Besides, she has your grandparents to keep her company." He then leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "It's getting late. We should head back inside."

With that, he turned and went inside, not bothering to see if I was following and leaving me with my thoughts.

###########################

"Where is it? It has to be here. Where is it?" My hands shook as I frantically searched to pile after pile of papers. Papers scattered on the ground had me on my knees trying to collect them all, wishing that just one held the information I needed, when the lights turned on.

"Hope. What are you doing?" My eyes flicked up to see Papa standing in the doorway his face scrunched up, eyes scanning the room as he tried to figure out what the scene before him was.

Not bothering to stop my search, I casually said, "looking for something."

"What are you looking for?"

I dropped the papers, placing my hands flat on the floor, let my head hang. The only person that can stop my search stood five feet away. After a moment of thought I stood facing him. Looking him in the eye I asked the question that had been driving me insane since Grandma died two months ago. "What happened to Mom?"

The silence was deafening, but I refused to waver. "I deserve to know."

"You do know-"

"No," I yelled as I let all the anger, and desperation consume me. "She is not! She is not in the stars! My mom is dead! She is dead and her body is six feet under the ground in the Storybrooke cemetery! My mother died when I was three years old and I didn't get to know what killed her! That's not fair!" I felt like I was drowning as I gasped for air.

He took a step forward reaching for me but I took a step back. I came here for an answer. "How did she die?"

He opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off before he could even start to question me, "I want to know! I deserve to know! Everyone else gets to know! Everyone else gets that closure! So why don't I?"

My heart was pounding, my eyes burned with angry tears, and my breath heaved through grit teeth. "Tell me." It came out as a plea more than anything else.

He just stood there watching me. His gaze in steeled. "She was shot."

The whole world felt like it stopped and slowed down at those three words. "What?"

He looked down at his shoes taking a deep breath, as if he was preparing himself, before he eyes returned to mine. "She got an emergency call. We went to see what was going on and someone shot your mother."

My ears were ringing, my stomach turned into knots before I stamped it all down. 'Your telling me the Savior, who held the most powerful magic in all the realms, got shot? And thats- thats just it? She just died?"

"Lass-"

"Why couldn't she heal herself?! Or-or Regina?! Why couldn't Dr Whale save her?! Why didn't you?!" I was near screaming at this point, my fist clenched at my sides.

"We tried everything we could-" He once again tried to come to me but I walked to the other side of the room distancing myself as far as I could from him.

'Why are you lying?! Mom didn't just get shot! She fought dragons and giants an-and caught bad guys for a living! She had Henry and Grandpa and Grandma and you." I paused letting the next part out as a whisper, "She had me." Shaking my head glaring at my father I allowed for my anger to consume me again, "she wouldn't have just gone off and gotten herself shot!"

"Lass your mother loved you so much. She wanted to be here for you. She was very careful but she also knew the risks of being the town protector. It shouldn't've happened but it did." His voice wavered as he croaked out, "I'm sorry, love. I'm so so sorry I couldn't protector her or you. I'm sorry I couldn't save her. And I'm sorry there isn't more to the story but that's just it. Someone shot your mother and she died." His voice softened as he said " But we shouldn't have her memory sullied but how her life ended. We should treasure the time we had with her even after she went to the stars."

Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head, "if your not going to tell me what really happened then fine but I'm done talking to a cluster of balls of gas billions of miles away waiting for a voice I'm never going to hear again."

I stormed out of the room and we never spoke of it again. I refused to speak to anyone for the next following weeks.

##########################

One day, I was helping out at the Sheriff's Station. While searching for paper cups, I came across an innocent enough looking box. I was in the midst of going through it when Papa came in.

"What are you doing, love?" His eyes were trained on the box with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I found this box. It has all this random stuff in it. A shoelace, glasses…." The next thing I saw made my throat go dry and my heart skip a beat. I picked up an old photo and realized what all this stuff was. "Is this mom's?"

"Aye. It was." He came over to the box and looked inside. He picked up what looked like a tape. He motioned to follow him, putting the tape inside the tv in the station. What appeared on screen shocked me to my core.

"Killian look. Henry and I found some old empty tapes. Now we can make a movie of this little one." Papa was holding a small baby that began to squirm before letting out a shrill cry.

"I think this little one wants her Mama, love." The camera moved and shook before stilling.

"Okay, hand her over."

And there she was. My mom taking me from Papa cradling me to her chest. "I think she's just hungry. I'll go feed her. Can you turn that off? Just press the red button."

The screen went black before going to the next clip. Mom was standing directly in front of the camera. "You sure you got it?"

"I'm fine, love."

Mom turned while explaining what was going on. "Okay so we put these things in front of her and see which one she crawls to." Mom placed me on the floor in front of some random items then sat opposite of me. I started crawling and went right past everything right into Mom's lap. "Well, if that didn't prove she's a Charming I don't know what will." Mom was laughing as she held me up in the air. I couldn't help but laugh with her. I never thought I would hear that laugh again.

The next clip was me in a high chair with Mom and Papa sitting on either side of me. A couple of cupcakes sat on the table. They started singing happy birthday, the rest of the clip consisted of me smearing cupcake over my face and trying to feed some to Mom and Papa.

The next scene was Papa rocking me back and forth while singing. The camera was placed down and Mom walked over to join, wrapping both of us in her arms as we all swayed back and forth.

The tape kept going like that, playing a bunch of random clips of Mom, Papa, and a baby version of me. The last clip showed Mom sitting in a rocking chair me laying on top of her while she hummed. I didn't realize I was crying until Papa wiped the tears from my face. "I didn't realize how much I missed her."

"She misses you, too. But you can always find her."

I shook my head as I let myself cry through my confession, "I haven't talked to the stars in years, Papa."

"Shhh shhh." He pulled me into his chest cupped my head with his hand. "It doesn't matter. Your mother can always hear you, and you can always find her." He pulled away slightly to look at me, placing his hook on my chest. "She's here. She is always right here."

########################

I looked up at the sky. My eyes easily settling on the familiar cluster of stars I was shown so long ago.

When I was little, some nights Papa would read me a book. Some nights, he would tell me stories of being a pirate. Some nights, he would sing to me. Some nights, we would watch a movie and fall asleep together. My favorite nights were when he would tell stories about him and Mom. But every night since the first, we would go up to the window and look up at the stars. Sometimes it was a quick trip, and other times we would sit there for a couple minutes and talk about the day along with what was new. But we would always say three words before going to bed.

This night I looked up the giant swan in the sky, a small tear running down my cheek, and spoke three words I haven't said in a long time.

"Good Night, Mom."