We get a tiny bit of past Storybrooke in this one. We're getting close to present Storybrooke, and it almost makes me sad, because I really enjoy writing past New York. I'm so excited for what's coming up, though! Enjoy this longer chapter - I don't have another day off for a week and my work schedule is all over the map, so I'm not sure when the next update will happen.

Thank you for all the reviews! You guys rock!

Chapter 4: Run Home

-Storybrooke 1985-

Graham was officially concerned. Regina had told him she was taking a short trip and then left. She gave no plans, no destination, and when he asked, she told him he need not concern himself.

That much didn't bother him, though he wished she'd trust him a little more. The Mayor was a very private woman, and despite their intimate relationship, he knew she kept him separate from everything else in her life.

No, what was worrying him was the town. Regina had only been gone a little while, but weird things had started happening around town in her absence. People would randomly have strange bouts of some sort of amnesia during which they'd forget who they were. It lasted anywhere from mere seconds to several hours. Sometimes they'd wander around town, looking at everything around them as if they didn't recognize anything. They'd even forget some of the most basic things like ordering a coffee, using a telephone, writing a check. Some of them would even begin screaming every time a vehicle passed by. Dr. Whale had been working endlessly to try to find what was causing it, but was making no progress. Graham had gone to see him to try to get an idea of what they were facing, but the doctor had simply shrugged, shaking his head. No one had any clue what was going on.

The people of Storybrooke weren't the only problem. As if that wasn't enough, they'd begun to experience several small earthquakes. At night, lightning storms lit up the sky. Though from what Graham had witnessed, he wasn't sure it could be called lightning. He couldn't peg when all of this had started happening exactly, but it seemed to have been gradually getting worse.

Regina had left strict instructions not to call her, except if it were an absolute emergency. In that case, she'd left a sealed envelope for him containing the name of the hotel she was staying in along with a phone number.

Every time he reached for the phone, however, he pictured Regina's angry face, could hear her voice. She deserved a small, uninterrupted break, didn't she? And so, he didn't call. If things continued to get worse, he told himself he would.


-New York 1985-

"So?" Neal asked. "Your place or mine?"

Regina laughed. "You make it sound so inappropriate. We're watching a ball game." She swung their hands a bit between them.

"You're right," he told her, putting on a straight face. "This is serious business. Which reminds me…" He stopped walking and let go of her hand. He set the paper bag he'd been carrying down on a newspaper stand and started digging through it. "I got you a little something for the occasion."

Before she could see what he was reaching for, he was pulling something down on her head. She put her hands up to feel a baseball cap. "What is this?"

"Your way of showing your support for the team." He stepped back to admire the Yankees cap on her. "Adorable."

Regina gave him a look of annoyance. She opened her mouth, but before she could protest, he leaned in and kissed her.

She happily responded and when they pulled apart, her look of annoyance had changed into a light smile of contentment. It only lasted a second before she smacked his arm.

"Ow!" he cried, chuckling as he cradled it. "What was that for?"

"You know what it was for," she told him. "Every time I'm about to disagree with you, you kiss me. It's cheating."

"Hmm," he mused. "I don't think it's cheating if we both enjoy it."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, fine." He put a hand over his heart. "From now on, I promise I'll let you disagree with me. No matter how much I love the way you look when you're mad, I vow never to kiss you. From now on, I will only kiss you with your express permission."

She narrowed her eyes and a corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. "I don't think you need to take it quite that far."

"I don't?" He hooked his fingers through the belt loops on her jeans and pulled her closer to him.

She shook her head and leaned in, closing her eyes. She felt his breath, but when no kiss came, she opened her eyes to find Neal with his face only inches from hers, grinning cheekily.

"You didn't give me permission," he said.

"Neal!" She yelled, the irritation flashing in her eyes again. "If you—" but she didn't get any further than that before he'd silenced her with another kiss.

She gave in immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck and allowing him to pull her in closer. It was easy to forget her annoyance when he was kissing her. He kissed her with feeling, like she hadn't been kissed since she was with Daniel.

But this was different from that as well. With Daniel, it had been young and innocent; shy. This was the complete opposite. He kissed her with confidence and purpose, and – she had to admit – quite a bit more passion than she was used to, even with Graham. Even now, in the middle of downtown New York, his mouth moving on hers had her heart racing and she leaned into him, desperately seeking more contact.

They jumped apart, however, at a loud whistle, accompanied by a cat call from a passing stranger.

Neal shook his head when, instead of appearing embarrassed, Regina smirked and placed her arm through Neal's. "Come on," she said. "We've got a game to watch."

He barely had time to snag the paper bag full of snacks before she was pulling him down the sidewalk. God, he loved this woman.


Neal took a moment to just watch as Regina sat on his couch with one leg tucked up under her. She'd stayed, much to his delight, for almost two months now. He'd shown her New York, just as promised, but they hadn't stopped there. Gradually, their visits to various restaurants around the city had turned into official dates. It hadn't taken long after that for them to admit to each other that they both wanted more.

The truly amazing thing was watching her change. It was a gradual process, but noticeable to someone as enamored by her as Neal was. She was still the witty, sharp-tongued woman he'd first been drawn to, but the coldness surrounding her had faded dramatically as they spent more time together. He learned it was a defense mechanism – a way to keep people from getting too close. It made him realize how lucky he was to see the real her. She was slowly allowing him to learn more and more about her – though they'd both agreed their pasts were still off-limits. He was okay with that.

It was easy to see in this setting just how much she'd relaxed. She was wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirt in place of her usual more-formal clothing. The Yankees cap had been removed and placed on the coffee table, but she'd pulled her hair into a ponytail – something else he had a feeling wasn't the norm for her. She smiled more easily now and when she laughed – really laughed – he felt the joy spreading out from her infectiously. He knew that that had been even rarer before he'd met her. He'd gotten the distinct impression that she'd had very little in her life to laugh about for the last several years.

He watched as she leaned forward, fingers reaching out and sliding something from the center of the coffee table close to her. As she picked it up, he recognized it as one of his comic books. He felt embarrassment creep up – surely a woman like her would frown on a grown man with a comic book collection. He was about to say something to defend himself, but she looked up at him first.

"What's this?" she asked, and it wasn't with any hint of judgment. It was an honest question – she genuinely wanted to know.

"A comic book." He walked over and sat down next to her, handing her an open bottle of coke.

"A comic book?" She took a sip and hummed her approval before setting the bottle on the coffee table.

He nodded, reaching over and taking it from her. By now, he was used to explaining things to her. He'd learned not to question her curiosity when it came to things that seemed obvious. It only made her uncomfortable. Instead, he just went along with it as if it were perfectly normal.

Flipping open to a random page, he showed her the boxed pictures with speech bubbles. "It's like a mini-book, but with more pictures than writing. And it's dialogue."

She studied the pictures with interest. "And what's the point in reading them?"

"It's a form of escape, I suppose," he told her. "People have whole collections of them. I started mine when I was a kid. They helped me through some pretty rough times." Forget that he'd started his collection dishonestly, pulling them from the shelves when no one was watching. They really had helped him escape, though, if only for a little while. "Most of them are about superheroes with special powers that always save the world and get the girl."

"Wishing you could save the world?" she asked him.

"Nah…" He tossed the comic book onto the coffee table and leaned back into the couch, pulling her against him. "As long as I get the girl, I'll be fine."

She shook her head at him, smiling, and he turned his attention to the television that had been playing in the background. "Looks like they're about to start."

"You should turn it up a little," she told him. "I wouldn't want you missing any of the action."

She sat up as he stood, leaning over the coffee table to adjust the volume.

"Better?" he asked, and she nodded.

He pulled the bag of snacks onto the couch next to him as he sat back down. "I still don't understand why you wanted to come here. The TV at your hotel is better than this one."

"Yeah. But I like it here better." She leaned back into him. "It's not a hotel room, it's a home."

Neal didn't say that it didn't feel like a home unless she was there. Without her, it was a half-empty apartment with cheap furniture and a lonely feeling. Instead of telling her any of that, he reached into the snack bag. "Time for some Cracker Jacks."

"Cracker Jacks?"

"Trust me – you haven't lived until you've tried Cracker Jacks. They're an essential part to every baseball game. Plus," he smiled, popping the first kernel into his mouth, "there's a prize in every box."

"A prize, hmm? I like them already." Regina reached out a hand and he poured a small amount into it as they watched the start of the game. "Mmmm." She closed her eyes for a minute after the first bite. "This is really good." Settling back, she brought her hand to her mouth, taking the rest of the Cracker Jacks in one large bite. After a few moments of chewing, she swallowed and leaned forward, picking up the Yankees cap and putting it on, pulling her ponytail through. "So the point of the game is to get home?"

"Something like that," he laughed. "The more players that make it to home base, the more points they get. At the end of the game, the team with the most points wins," he explained, breaking baseball down to its simplest elements.

They watched in silence for a while until Neal suddenly exclaimed, "Here's the prize!" He pulled out a small plastic ring with a light blue plastic stone. "Not much to look at, but it's something," he said.

"Blue's my favorite color."

"Really? Well then, you have to have it," he told her, taking her right hand and sliding it onto her ring finger. "Besides, I don't think it goes with anything in my closet."

She elbowed him lightly before settling back against him comfortably, his arm around her.

This was more what she'd had in mind when she'd cast the curse; a second chance at happiness – a fresh start. Being here with Neal allowed her to forget her messy past. She could be her old self. There was no one to judge her for what she'd done and there was no one here in New York to remind her of any of it. There was only Neal, and he made her feel like herself again. With him, she was happy.

As one of the Yankees' bats connected with the ball and sent it out over the fence, the crowd on TV erupted into cheers and Neal joined in, yelling excitedly. Regina even joined in a little, timidly at first, but then getting pulled into the excitement along with everyone else.

Yes. This…this was the kind of thing she'd always wanted.


-Somewhere off the East Coast 2013-

Emma smiled as she watched Neal show Henry how to steer the ship. Henry seemed to be having a great time. It stung a bit that right now, Neal was the only one able to bring that smile to Henry's face. He was still upset with her about lying to him, just as she knew he had every right to be.

At least things seemed to be going well between Henry and Neal. Henry had warmed up to him quickly and she hadn't expected Neal to take it this well. Rather than running away from the responsibility, he'd embraced it and seemed to love spending time with his son. It made more sense now that she knew he was the son of Rumpelstiltskin. He'd had a father abandon him, choosing himself over his child, and she knew now that Neal would never do that.

She allowed them to continue laughing and talking for a few more minutes while Henry steered the ship. It gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. She knew it was time to tell Neal the truth. They'd be back in Storybrooke soon, and she knew it would be a bad idea for them to arrive without her telling him. At least this way, she could ensure that she was the one who told him instead of some stranger letting it slip by accident.

Finally, she moved towards them. "Hey, kid," she said, smiling. "Looks like you're having fun."

He nodded, but didn't say anything.

"I have to talk to Neal for a minute. Would you mind checking on Mr. Gold for me?"

Henry looked back and forth between the two adults and Neal gave him a small smile and nodded. "Okay," he sighed. At this point, he was used to adults making excuses for him to leave so they could talk about things they didn't want him hearing. Without another word, he shuffled toward the lower deck, scuffing his shoes as he went.

Neal took the wheel and gazed at Emma curiously. He wasn't sure what to expect from her. He would have thought she'd come to continue her interrogation of him, but the nervous expression she wore said differently. Trying to ease the tension, he said, "Henry's a good kid. You did a good job."

Neal was surprised when the statement seemed to have the opposite effect. Emma tensed and closed her eyes.

"That's actually what I needed to talk to you about."

He watched her in confusion.

"I uh…I didn't actually raise Henry. I didn't even name him. When he was…when he was born, I gave him up for adoption. He came and found me last year. Until then, I hadn't seen him since I gave him up."

Neal was silent, the expression on his face indecipherable.

"I did it because I wanted to give him his best chance," Emma rushed on. "I was young, I was in jail – I couldn't raise a baby. I did what I thought was best. He deserved a family who could give him the things I never would have been able to." She watched Neal stare out at the water, speechless, until she finally couldn't take it anymore. "Neal, please say something."

"Where are his parents?"

"Back in Storybrooke." She took a deep breath. "That's why Henry came to find me. He knew that I was the only one who could break the curse. He read the book and figured everything out."

"And how do his parents fit into this? Now that the curse is broken? Now that they remember who they are?"

"Actually…Henry was raised by a single mother, and she's always known who she was."

Neal looked at her in confusion. "I thought the curse made everyone forget their true identities?"

"It did, but uhhh…well – she's kind of the one who cast the curse."

Neal looked down quickly, only to look back up at her, anger flashing in his eyes. "Are you telling me that our son was raised by the Evil Queen?"

Emma could only nod.

"And you're only telling me this now?"

"I was afraid! You assumed that I'd raised Henry and I didn't know how to tell you that I couldn't! I wasn't strong enough! I wouldn't have been a good mother. I didn't know how to tell you I gave him up. I gave our son up."

Neal watched as Emma dissolved into tears. He felt guilty. Emma had been young and alone. He couldn'tblame her for making the decision she had. But one part of what she'd said was sticking out. "A good mother. Emma – you think the Evil Queen was a good mother?"

Emma took a calming breath. The worst of it was over. This…this she could handle. "Honestly? Here's what's so screwed up about this curse thing – yes. She was a good mother. She loved Henry and she must have done something right, because look at him. As messed up as she is, she loves him. And that's part of the problem. Now that the curse is broken and the whole town knows who she is, she'll do anything to get Henry back. And I don't know what to do. She was so controlling, so angry – I knew I had to get Henry away from her. But now I know that she wasn't always like that. She was afraid. When I came to town, she knew that if the curse broke, she'd lose everything, including Henry. And after the curse broke, she gave up magic for him. She was trying to be good – for Henry. But now her mother's here and everything's wrong again, and I'm doing my best, but I don't know how! I only just now have parents myself! How am I supposed to know how to be a mom?! And now, the whole town expects me to fix everything, because I'm the savior. But I'm not! I'm just Emma."

She hadn't meant to dump everything on him like that, but she actually felt better now. It was nice not to be burdened with all of those heavy thoughts swirling around in her head, unspoken.

Neal turned his attention back to steering the ship. "It'll get better," he told her, because he didn't know what else to say. "Thank you. For telling me the truth."

She nodded and walked away, understanding that they were done for now.

It was a lot to sort through. Neal had been thrown headfirst into this mess, but he realized that it hadn't been much better for Emma. He could handle it, though. He knew his son needed him now, and he'd figure it out – for Henry. All that mattered now was Henry.