This is my favourite chapter so far and I hope you enjoy it!

~ Paternity ~

Emma had to turn away. She couldn't look at his still form without feeling guilt; without wishing they'd had more time to discuss something other than the past he was regretful of and she still struggled to let go of. Emma closed her eyes, wishing she could deafen her ears to the sobs behind her as easily as she could blind herself to the sight of the darkened jungle just outside the cavern opening.

Her mind rushing through the last hour, all Emma could think of was the pain in his voice when he'd asked the question she had the least idea of how to answer. And it was still a preferred agony to trying to decide how she was going to tell Henry that any chance he had left of knowing his father was gone. Neal was dead. The feel of his ashes slipping through her fingers felt as real as when he'd taken his last breath in her arms.

He'd died a hero – she chose to focus on that.

'Swan?'

Emma reopened her eyes but didn't turn. Hook kept his distance, just out of her line of sight. Regina was surely still nearby while Rumpelstiltskin cried over the space where his son had been, moments before the magic that killed Neal had turned even his lifeless body to ash.

It was David who reached Emma, his hand gently landing on her shoulder as not to startle her.

'Emma?'

Emma ignored him as well, as a tear slid down her cheek. She'd been through this before when Neal slipped into the portal after being shot. If he hadn't, maybe he'd never have come to Neverland. Maybe he wouldn't have sacrificed his life as the vessel of the terrible spell Pan unleashed to drain the magic from everything nearby. If Neal hadn't, it would have kept spreading and there was a chance of breaking down the walls between realms over time.

There was no count to the lives he'd saved and to Emma that wasn't the point. He was a hero, but now Henry was without a father.

Again.

That circled her mind back to the dreaded question Neal had asked her before Rumpelstiltskin and Regina's combined efforts finally tracked the epicentre of Pan's plan. Neal had wanted to know if she'd given Henry up for adoption because of him – because he wasn't there. Emma still didn't know how much of that contributed to the situation, or why any of it even mattered so soon after watching Neal die in her arms – all while telling her to be happy, even if it wasn't with him.

Emma knew she should be more upset. She should be angry and feel cheated, but she'd let him go long before then. For all the things she could think of, Emma frowned at the truth that once again he was gone. Her son was fatherless, and her bitterness of being abandoned all those years ago remained unresolved.

Neal was loved and died a hero. That's how he would be remembered, and Emma was determined for it to be that way. Those were the memories they'd hold onto. His sacrifice would be how Henry would remember the man who fathered him. It was through Henry that Emma knew a part of Neal would always remain behind the brown of her son's eyes and dimples of his smile.

'Goodbye,' Emma whispered.

At least this time she got to say it.

'She was beyond hope – beyond saving. This was her end,' Emma read, leaning back on the couch to increase comfort. She had the book propped up with her stomach and free hand while the other caressed her belly.

She felt the baby kick and smiled.

'When Prince Charming saw his beloved Snow White in her glass coffin, he knew all that was left was to say goodbye...' Emma paused, frowning, and inhaled a sharp breath.

It was fine, she told herself, yet quickly shut the book. She traced her fingers over the brown and golden cover, wondering where the story-book had come from. She'd woken to find it sitting on the nursery rocking chair again the previous morning - she assumed Henry had taken it from the shelf and left it there.

Cursing under her breath, Emma moved the book to the space of couch beside her and winced. The contractions were the most prominent feature in her memories of giving birth to Henry, and she was not at all looking forward to reliving it. She checked her watch and made no effort to get up.

It had been a few hours since Emma's water had broken, yet the contractions had been quite far apart. She only had traumatic memories of being pregnant in jail to guide her; Emma wasn't sure if she was meant to be rushing to the hospital before the contractions got closer together or not. She also wanted to wait for Henry to get home so they could head over together.

Emma was too scared to leave the apartment. She was afraid, not entirely of the pain, but the result. Her new little boy would be born today, and nothing terrified her more. So she stayed in the apartment as long as she could, following her instincts that there was nothing wrong or had any urgency to move just yet.

She tried to occupy her mind with something other than the fear and pain by pondering what Liam would look like. Emma hadn't given it a lot of thought, despite trying to remember the father and conception. She wondered if the baby's eyes or hair would provide a clue, or would he look more like her than the absent figure who fathered him? Emma didn't know what her own parents looked like, so it was difficult to even imagine which traits her newest son might inherit. Henry had Neal's eyes and brown hair. Sometimes she had to look for signs of herself in her eldest child though she knew appearances weren't everything.

'Ow!' Emma groaned, shifting again.

The pain was getting worse and closer together. She tried to sit there, imagining what her new baby would look like, but he would be in her arms soon. It was getting harder to block out the reality of that.

When Henry finally came through the doors, Emma stood from the couch faster than the pain should have allowed her.

'Mum?' Henry dumped his bag on the floor and hurried over when Emma groaned with pain. 'Is it time?'

'Oh, it's time!' Emma yelled, placing a hand on her back. 'Ow, son of a-'

Henry ran to the nursery to grab the baby bag. His breathing was as unregulated as hers, both filled with the uncertainty of how to handle the situation. However, Henry was a lot calmer than Emma thought he should be. He held her hand and led her to the door, patiently waiting when she had to stop to swear at the contractions. He multi-tasked of aiding her downstairs and calling for a cab.

Henry never left her side, not even when they arrived at the hospital at a speed that was surely not legal – Emma had warned the driver he had to hurry unless he wanted her giving birth in his back seat.

~ B ~

By the time Emma was in the delivery room all prepared to push, Henry had rapidly dissolved into a nervous wreck.

He lingered for a while, and debated over the questions he'd been asked until finally he decided to brave the scariest and grossest thing he could endure – he went in with Emma to the delivery room. Henry had two friends who told him stories about when a younger sibling or relative was born – one said being there was the most disgusting thing ever and hated it, while another agreed yet added it was pretty special to be right there welcoming new life.

Henry's choice mostly involved his mother, rather than his little brother. She was alone when he was born, and Henry would go through anything at all to make sure he kept his promise that this time would be different. He stood dutifully pale beside her while Emma screamed and pushed his brother into the world.

'Is that supposed to happen?' Henry worried, looking around wildly as lights flashed and flickered within the entire room.

No one answered him, too occupied with the birth taking place. He remained close to the pillow side of the bed, wary of glimpsing something he couldn't unsee, and tried to ignore the electricity problem.

He held her clenched hand the whole time, until right near the end when his curiosity won over.

Henry approached the end of the bed, where Emma's legs were propped up and mostly covered with a white sheet. The Doctor and nurses crowded around - just as Henry got closer, he saw his brother. It was a blur of red and gloved hands at first, but soon he recognised the form of a tiny baby. He glanced at his mother, checking she was okay, then looked down at the newest member of their family.

Henry was amazed and simply stood there transfixed in watching everyone tending to the infant.

Emma collapsed back onto the pillow, gasping for air in relief the worse part of the ordeal was over. She listened for the cry, but none came. Henry had his back to her, and no one was talking. Panicked, she raised up on her elbows and looked over at the bundle she could barely see over her raised legs.

'It's a boy!' the doctor said, rather unnecessarily. He held up the baby, wrapped loosely in a blanket, and Emma caught the first sight of her new son.

Emotions flooded her in rapid motion – and suddenly a chilled sensation burst through her mind. She saw images and heard sounds that hit her so fast she almost missed them.

They didn't come alone – memories flowed through her mind, contradicting everything she thought she knew. Henry, at ten years old, showing up on her doorstep in Boston; a sign reading "Storybrooke"; a clock tower showing the same time as on the wall of the hospital: 8:15; a woman, who she immediately knew was named Regina; a dragon breathing fire; Henry waking from the sleeping curse; the magic purple fog clouding the town; her parents; the wraith; climbing a beanstalk in the Enchanted Forest with a man in leather; the dream-catcher from when she reunited with Neal in Manhattan last year; Neal falling through the portal; her first kiss with the pirate; the intimate moment she shared with Liam's father; the curse that sent them off to New York; and his face.

The final moment, in which everything made sense, was of his face. The dark hair, blue eyes, and pirate leather.

'Hook,' Emma whispered, eyes adjusting to the glare of the hospital room. She gulped as a bundle was transferred straight into her arms – his son.

She was shocked, her mind still adjusting with two memories in her head at once and the realisation of all the truth that came with them, yet the hold on her newborn was unrelenting. She held her baby with strength and care, moving the blue blanket from his face to have a better look at his features. She glanced to see Henry staring at her and move closer to observe their interaction. There was worry in his eyes, but all her fears had shed the moment the baby had been placed in her arms.

'Liam,' she said, laughing with joy while tears spilled from her eyes.

His face scrunched as he squirmed, then settled and opened his stunningly blue eyes to look at her. He wasn't clean yet, but to Emma he was perfect. She leaned to kiss his forehead, closing her eyes to submerge her mind in memories of the man who fathered the little one - as if they could be transferred to the child who may never know him.

'Henry.' Emma gestured him over, tears blurring her view.

He joined her side, as he had been for most of the birth, and smiled at the baby. He was clearly in shock and awe, so Emma let him just stand there staring at the infant. The nurses took Liam for a few more minutes, then handed him to Henry at Emma's request. She was exhausted and knew Liam was in safe hands.

While Emma closed her eyes for some much-needed rest, Henry moved to sit in the nearest chair with his baby brother in arms. He awkwardly shifted him, terrified of how fragile Liam was and having never held a baby before, but refused any help. The two brothers stared at each other for a long time, and Henry was completely in love.

'Hey, Liam,' he said quietly. 'I'm Henry, your big brother. Welcome to the family – I know it's a bit small, but don't worry about that 'cause we're pretty awesome...'

'When Prince Charming saw his beloved Snow White in her glass coffin, he knew all that was left was to say goodbye.'

Emma woke to the sound of Henry reading.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked across the room, to where her eldest son sat on a sofa with his little brother bundled in blankets on his lap. He used the armrest to prop up the storybook she didn't remember either of them packing in the baby bag.

Emma didn't move; just smiled and lay to listen.

'He had to give her one last kiss. And when he did, true love proved more powerful than any curse,' the twelve-year-old continued. 'A pulse of pure love shuddered out and engulfed the land, waking up Snow White and bringing light to the darkness.'

Liam began to fuss, waving a small hand in the air. Emma sat up to gesture Henry over. He reluctantly handed her his brother, and put the book on the bedside table.

'They wanted to know about the birth certificate,' Henry told her. 'And left that to fill out.' He pointed to a form.

Emma glanced at the papers and sighed. The headache had subsided, yet her mind remained adjusting to the resurfaced memories. Kissing Liam's sleeping face, she carefully passed him back to Henry and reached to fill out the form.

'I remember,' she told her son. 'I know who the father is.'

'You do?' Henry stepped closer. 'Who?'

'His name is Killian Jones,' Emma said but didn't elaborate. An incredible sadness had taken residence in her heart, almost making it unbearable to write the name down on the form.

She poised the pen over Liam's information and wrote "David" for the middle name. Finishing, Emma trailed her gaze to her two sons and tried to force back the tears threatening to break her.

Her parents, Hook...they would never know him.

They were far away in another land, unaware that Liam had taken his first breath that afternoon. History was beginning to repeat itself, and Emma was afraid it won't ever stop. Already Liam was born without his father knowing, just like with Henry and Neal. The lights had gone crazy this time as well, which prompted Emma to think something was quite strange about that.

Her magic appeared to still exist beyond the boundaries of Storybrooke.

And yet one thing that was completely opposite from the birth of her first son was herself – there wasn't even the tiniest ounce of consideration in regards to keeping Liam. As she'd told Henry, the circumstances were very different and far more stable now.

Emma also knew not only would Henry never let his brother go, but she too couldn't even bear the thought of it. Liam was also the last she had of the man she may have loved – a man who hadn't abandoned her, who truly understood her, and above all was someone she trusted. He was reliable, loyal and, if not for the curse, Emma was convinced Hook would be there with them right now.

Except, he wasn't.

Emma lay down, staring towards the darkened hospital window, and wondered if she'd made a mistake in not telling him before the curse crumbled. She'd had enough warning and opportunity, but perhaps it was better he didn't know. Everyone from Storybrooke had been ripped back to their land, prevented from ever returning - as Regina had said. Emma had no reason to doubt it though she looked at the book on the bedside table and wondered.

There was a tiny sliver of hope.

'When can we take him home?' Henry asked.

'Soon,' Emma said, looking at her boys with adoration. 'And when we do, we'll read Liam all the stories in the book. I think he'll like that.'

Author's Note: I just wanted to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who is still reading and enjoying this story! As always, feedback is very helpful and appreciated. Now that Liam is born, we can move on to the main aspects of the story...But seriously, how cute is Henry with his baby brother?