Emma eyed the stranger's hand, then she turned her gaze to Harrison who was being loaded into the ambulance. The sirens of the police cars were far more piercing than the ambulance had been. They were getter closer. Everything in her told her to run away, to not look back and to claim ignorance when the police inquired. The abandoned little girl and lost teenager still roamed within her like a pinball bouncing off its obstacles.

But the stranger's hand told her a story, a story of his life that piqued her interest. His hand was rough around the edges and bore the scars only a man who worked with his hands could. They were dry and looked as if they were once painful.

Emma slid her hand in Killian's. Untrue to his hand's appearance, it was actually soft. She took her hand back quickly and a surge of dizziness flooded her body. She steadied herself just as a wave of nausea appeared. She fought that too.

Instead Emma focused her attention onto a police car that had pulled up a few feet away from the wreckage. Too late to run, she thought. The stranger had faded into the background by now and the only thing she could focus on was the numbness within her, partially caused by the alcohol and partially caused by the drama of the night.

Within a few moments before the ambulance even had a chance to speed away, the scene was swarming with police officers and detectives. Emma tensed when she saw a short man with a mustache wearing a police uniform approach her and Killian. The man had a small note pad and a pencil in his hand.

"I'm Officer Williams," the police officer said. "Tell me what happened."

Emma's mind raced. Now that Harrison was on his way to the hospital, the shock was beginning to wear off. She was only able to think as clearly as the alcohol would allow and even that was clouded by the one thought that replayed in her mind like a movie: it's my fault.

Emma only knew what she felt: loneliness with a dash of hope. She had never felt loved or missed or cared for. She knew exactly how precious those feelings are because she never felt them. And as she stood there, drunk and alone in a crowd of strangers, she had never wished harder for that warm and fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one she could only get from a movie or a book. Here on her 28th birthday, the only thing she wished for was not to be alone. And as she opened her mouth to tell the officer exactly what happened, she knew reality couldn't be farther from what she wished for.

ooo

Killian stood with his arms crossed over his chest. While Officer Williams questioned the beautiful woman whose name he did not yet know, he finished up answering questions from his own officer. Officer Hamilton, as he would learn, was polite and thorough. With a nod and a thank you, the officer left Killian alone, giving him time gaze at the woman who intrigued him.

A smile formed across his lips as he watched her. He could tell she was still drunk and that she was trying hard not to give into it. She wasn't tense as she talked with the officer, but she wasn't relaxed either. She had managed to find a happy medium that allowed her to listen but not quite hang on every word. In the half hour that he knew her, he had come to realize that she was a fiercely independent woman. That is why he loved it even more when Officer Williams approached him, with the woman sulking behind him, asking him to make sure she got home safe. He happily accepted.

"I never got your name," Killian said.

She had already begun walking towards her apartment, and Killian had to take a few extra wide steps to catch up with her. She glanced sideways at him. "Emma Swan," she said flatly.

Killian let her name rattle around inside his brain for a few minutes.

Emma sighed. "Listen thanks for that... You know, back there. What you did…"

The lights from the police cars were fading into the background, leaving them with only the dim street lights to guide their way. The only sound was the pitter patter of Emma's bare feet on the sidewalk accompanied by Killian's soft steps.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"Navy."

"Oh."

ooo

Emma lead the rest of the way to her apartment in silence. The silence between them was comfortable. He stood close to her to make sure she didn't topple over, but not too close as to invade her space. It felt good to not be alone if only for a few minutes. Happy Birthday to me, she thought.

The warmth of her apartment building was welcoming. The cold was beginning to prick at her and her bare feet were like ice on the cold concrete. She pushed the button to summon the elevator. She slouched against the wall and waited. Killian, true to his nature, gave her extra space since the wall could prevent her from tumbling over. With a ding, the elevator doors popped open and they got in.

"Today is my birthday," Emma said. The comment shocked her. The thought came out of nowhere and the words came from an even farther place.

Killian widened his eyes for a moment in surprise. "Oh, well, happy birthday," he said.

Emma smiled to herself. It felt good that somebody wished her a happy birthday even from a stranger. But she knew that he was just a stranger, a kind soul. It was refreshing to have somebody by her side if only for a little while. But being alone is what she was good at.

The elevator came to a stop and unloaded its passengers.

Emma used the wall to keep herself upright as she approached her apartment door. She had yet to look up. She kept her eyes on her feet.

"You have a kid?"

Emma's head popped up and looked at Killian. "What? No," she said, wondering where such a stupid question came from. It wasn't until she actually looked towards her front door that she noticed a young boy standing outside her apartment. She slowed her pace and Killian did as well. "Can I help you?"

"Are you Emma Swan?"

"Who wants to know?"

The child glanced at the man beside Emma then back to her. "My name is Henry. I'm your son."