The Lost Boys

by niniadepapa

AU: He's the charming, out of control frontman of one of the most successful bands in the world. She's a hard-working rising actress. Sometimes it's hard to find out what's real and what's make-believe when fame's in the game.

25. Chapter 25: We Move Lightly

Disclaimer: None of this characters are mine. No Killian Jones, no Emma Swan, no Nana. Nope. If they did, we'd all hang out and I'd probably spend my days staring at their prettiness and perfection. Sadly, they all are owned by Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis, along with OUAT. Bastards.

Trigger warning for slight pannick attack. Y'all be warned.

---

This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. No.

She was just having a horrible nightmare, and she'd surely wake up, stare at the cream colored walls of her room and maybe poke Killian's side to get him to wake up along with her just to mess with him. Or go to the bathroom and glare at her mussed hair and jet-lagged face.

She'd take anything, fucking anything but this.

Yet a small voice inside her head cruelly reminded her of her conversation with Killian the other day about lying. About not being so surprised when Henry was brought up in that interview, and how it had been kind of a relief for her. She really should have seen it coming, she should have really expected it, in fact. Because of course when everything seemed to be going fly as hell in her life, something had to come along and ruin it, take it from her and crush her hopes.

Again, this couldn't be happening.

Scenes replayed in her head: a cocky grin shot her way, laughter echoing inside her yellow bug, running around while angry yells followed their steps, kisses exchanged in the spur of the moment, consuming heat, a bright light to her right...

Emma clenched her eyes shut, taking in a sharp inhale of breath. Her hand shot to her neck, clutching it tightly as she begged her mind to stop recalling that night. The night that had changed everything for her, the night when she had rediscovered how the only one she could trust was herself until proven otherwise, except for her family. A family which, funnily enough, would have a new member soon enough after that, as she'd discover a couple of weeks later.

The night she had started piling brick after brick around her heart once more.

She started feeling dizzy, memories flooding her. She leaned over, her breathing coming rapidly as she covered her ears with her hands, trying to block out the sudden flashes going through her brain. The onslaught in her mind took over and covered everything outside of her. Killian's hand touched her shoulder and she heard his worried voice. She had forgotten he was even standing there, the package still in his hands. "Emma, are you all right?"

She wanted to answer, but her body trembled so hard she couldn't form the words. Her head spun due to the lack of oxygen from her frantic, shallow breaths. The pounding of her heart increased, making the breathing problem worse. She stumbled on her feet, clawing her way past Killian, who grabbed her arm before she fell.

"Emma, what are you doing?"

"A-air," was all she managed to get out.

The pain and panicked breaths got worse as she tried to walk to the kitchen. Her legs trembled and blackness tinged the edges of her vision as nausea rose in her stomach. She dug her fingers into Killian's arms, who had followed her and kept a tight hold of her waist.

"Mom, what's going on?" Oh God, Henry was watching her falling apart. Oh God. What was she supposed to tell him now? She shook her head, the gasps for air making it nearly impossible to form a coherent word. "I-I-do-don't-kn-know. D-don't worry."

"Henry, go and call Ruby or David and stay in your room until I call for you please." Killian's voice sounded from behind her.

"But..."

"Henry, please."

Emma didn't dare to look in her son's direction, afraid of what she'd see in his expression, the worry for her surely etching his features, but it was proving difficult for her to try to focus on anything other than her inability to properly inhale. Just as she heard Henry's footsteps leaving the room, her knees buckled underneath her. Killian barely managed to catch her before she fell to the ground, and in an instant she felt her body being swooped up and carried around the house. She had no idea what was going on around her, where she was going, or even who she was with at that point. All she knew was that she couldn't breathe and she really needed to breathe. Finally, she felt herself being lowered to the ground, her back against something hard and cold. Large, warm hands cupped her cheeks.

"Emma?" The hands against her face were gentle, soothing. "Emma. Listen to me. Focus on my voice. Can you do that?" Killian asked.

She sucked in what little air she could and nodded her head, her eyes still clenched tightly.

"Okay. Good." His thumbs moved over her cheeks, tracing small circles into her skin. "You're going to be okay. Everything is going to be alright."

She really wanted to laugh at that. Oh, if only he knew. But of course he wouldn't, she hadn't even told him anything about Neal since they had met. She had had the chance, but she hadn't been ready. She tended not to talk about whatever had hurt her, in the vain hope that it would not affect her if she pretended it had never happened, she supposed.

It had worked like a charm, huh?

Oddly enough, though, as his calloused fingers traced idle patterns on her skin and his voice kept reassuring her, she felt her body thrum in near numbness. He continued touching her, her face, her hair. Lightly, so soft that if she wasn't so focused on it she may not have felt it. Her breathing slowed.

What was it with his voice that calmed her?

Slowly, she came to press her face against the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply, embracing the unique scent that was him, that she had woken up to that morning, when nothing had happened and she felt completely content with her life. She buried her nose against him, feeling his pulse beating steadily against her cheek. Time seemed to pass slowly as she sat there, on the ground, with Killian seated in front of her.

"Feeling any better?" he asked quietly, his eyes studying her carefully.

She wanted to speak but wasn't really in the mood to even try. She knew she'd have to spill about it anyway, so there'd be time for that later. She nodded.

"You sure?" He ran his fingers through the hair just above her ear, his eyes never leaving hers.

She gulped loudly, closing her eyes once more. "Yes."

She could feel him fighting the words that he so desperately wanted to speak. It almost made her smile, knowing he was willing to swallow his curiosity - and obvious concern, of course - just for her sake, in order not to add pressure to her obvious distress. But apparently it was too much for him. "Wanna talk about it?"

She sighed heavily, burying her nose further into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, nuzzling it and inhaling once more. "Not yet."

"Want me to call Henry back?"

Oh, crap. Henry. She had almost forgotten about him witnessing the whole thing. Jesus. What was she supposed to tell him now?

She pulled away from him to stare right back at his face, noticing belatedly how the alarm still clung to his features. No kidding he had been scared after that. She still could feel her heart beating furiously inside her ribcage. "No. Not yet. I don't want him to see me like this."

"Emma...," he started protesting, fixing her with a measured look. She didn't let him continue, though. She wasn't about to budge.

She wasn't ready.

"Killian please. I don't know what I should tell him yet. I - I think I need him to stay with Regina today. I need to deal with this first," she finished in barely a whisper, nearly flinching as she heard how broken her own voice sounded in her ears.

Yeah, broken was definitely the word to describe it. The fact that it was also the name of her movie wasn't lost to her, like it had been a sign and she should have seen it coming.

Karma? Fate? Cosmic joke? Who knew, really. Emma just knew it sucked.

Killian kept looking at her closely under his lashes, and she let him see whatever he was seeking in her face. She found it funny how, for years, she had managed to close off any way in which she'd let someone read her, find out what she was thinking or feeling, and fool whoever she wanted or needed that way. Yet since Killian... she didn't even want to. She let him roam around her walls freely, he had managed to climb them and make his whatever it was she had inside of her.

She had welcomed it.

He ghosted a kiss on her temple and promptly got up with a sigh. "Okay. Stay here, I'll call her." She heard his receding footsteps and muffled conversation from the other room, while she waited, still sitting on the ground, her back to the wall and her legs bent in front of her. A sudden memory of her sitting with Killian on his bedroom's floor came to mind, when he had also been assaulted by memories and grief and she had come to him.

No wonder he knew how to calm her down. They were both so messed up, it was surprising they had gotten to this point barely unscathed. It seemed like half of their relationship was spent licking wounds and comforting each other.

But the other half was so full of happiness, Emma felt herself nearly glowing. She wouldn't change it for the world.

Killian showed up in front of her once again, her phone in his hand. "She said Daniel is on his way to pick him up." He paused and looked at her, cocking an eyebrow and his words coming up uncertain. "I should probably tell the lad to get ready?"

She nodded tiredly. "Thank you."

He kneeled in front of her, cupping her cheeks in his hands, his eyes intense on hers. "Emma, you should at least tell the boy something. He must be worried sick."

Boy, did she know that. She was amazed he hadn't ignored Killian earlier and tried to stay with her, or come back by now, but apparently he had been truly impressed - or Killian's commanding voice was surprisingly effective, who knew.

She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump in her throat. "I..."

He didn't even let her finish. He gripped her upper arms, pulling her to her feet and immediately grabbed her hand in hers, bringing her along the hall leading to Henry's room. "Come on. I'll go with you. You don't have to tell him anything, just show him you're okay. Then, we will deal with this mess."

Just as they reached her son's door, he sent her a reassuring little smile, and knocked before they heard Henry's dulled voice from inside. Killian opened it, and they saw him sitting on his bed, his book by his side and the phone thrown carelessly on the other. As soon as he saw them, he got to his feet and ran to her, hugging her middle in a tight grip. "Mom? Are you okay?"

She caressed his hair, those hazel tresses she so adored. It was hard, looking at him right now and thinking how his father had managed to get such a reaction from her. Someone who had made possible that such a beautiful, perfect tiny human being existed at the same time could hurt her in so many ways. "Yeah, kid, I'm fine. Sorry if I worried you."

He let go of her and stood back, examining her with an expectant expression. "I was. I called uncle David when Killian told me, he should be here soon."

Oh, right. This was going to be fun, she just knew it. Wait until David heard. Or Ruby. They were going to have a field day, she would bet anything on it.

She tried to add some cheer to her voice as she kneeled in front of him, her hands going to grip his shoulders. It wasn't going to be easy. "That's great, Daniel is coming too so you can go to Regina's for the weekend."

Henry's eyes grew wide, his brows furrowing in confusion and his lips parting, ready to berate her. She really couldn't blame him - she had promised him they'd spend the weekend together. "But you just came back! Wasn't I supposed to be home with you?"

She visibly winced, her eyes closing momentarily. She had been away running around Europe for promo and now that she was back she sent him away. She felt like absolute crap, but she couldn't find any other way around it.

She fought with the wavering in her voice as she tried to explain herself. She knew her son, and she knew he'd understand, though at the moment he was probably more annoyed with her than anything. "I know, I'm sorry but... that thing downstairs. I need to take care of it first, and I don't want you around just in case."

His expression morphed from sulkiness to confusion. "Why?"

"Henry, I can't explain it right now. But you have to trust me, please. Believe me, I want to stay with you more than anything, but I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you," she ended, a touch of pleading filling her words, such was her desperation for him to understand she really needed him to stay away from this while she tried to piece together what was going on.

He scooted closer to her, his voice worried as he gripped her hand in his forcefully. "Wait - is it something dangerous?"

Was it? She really hoped not. Who knew what Neal had become in all these years - if his trouble-looking ways were a giveaway back then, she wasn't really looking forward to find out what it was he did for a living (if he did anything, that was).

She always had those kick-ass moves she'd learned in training for the movie, just in case...

Emma shook her head, to clear her wandering thoughts and to try to reassure her son, who kept gripping her hand like his life depended on it. "No, no. Don't worry kid. But please, don't be mad at me," she all but begged, her face falling as she looked down at him.

She felt like crying when she saw understanding in Henry's expression, his arms coming around her once more, all under Killian's attentive gaze from the doorway as mother and son hugged each other like they were not going to see each other in years.

"Will you be alright though?," he murmured in her ear as she kept her hold on his small frame, all plaid shirts, pointy ears, freckles and impish smiles.

She patted his head softly, inhaling his scent. "Yeah. We will all be alright, I promise." Pulling back, she got to her feet again and clapped her hands, all business-like hoping to mask the fact that she was about to cry or do something equally emotional. "Come on, let's get you ready."

Not twenty minutes later, he was all packed, Daniel at the front door waiting after reassuring Emma that Regina would call later to find out the details and set to work and that Henry would be okay until she felt he could come back. Emma placed her son's book inside his backpack, and was about to give him Nana's leash when he stopped her, giving it back to her and whistling for the dog to come to their side. They both petted her as Emma looked down at him wonderingly, waiting for an explanation. Henry just shrugged and signaled over the dog, who nuzzled Emma's hand and rested her head against her so she would keep petting her.

"I think you need her here more than I do."

---

"Reinforcements are here," Killian called not long later when the unmistakable sound of tires against pavement roared through the windows. He got up from the stool he had been occupying with her as they drank a cup of cocoa - the only thing she'd ever drink at this point, managing to calm her frazzled nerves, - and took a peek from the window pane. She saw him lifting his brows, and she would say he even looked near amused. How he managed that, she didn't know. "Oh, good. In fact, it's the whole trope."

Was he serious? She cocked her head to the side, her hands gripping the mug tightly. Oh, look, it was the mug Henry had gotten her in one of his trips with school. She still couldn't believe he had had the guts to buy her a 'Keep Calm and - but WHY IS THE RUM GONE?' mug. For starters, how did he know she liked rum? And second, where had they taken the kids so they would find these? Weren't they supposed to buy the ones with unicorns and other cute little animals?

Though the fact that her son digged the pirate thing wasn't too surprising, if she were honest with herself. She blamed Johnny Depp.

"What do you mean?," she finally asked, raising her eyebrow - though it didn't even matter, as the front door opened with a loud bang and the whole cavalry got in. And by that she meant her brother, her future sister-in-law and her best friend.

If someone had offered her money in exchange for picking the most freaked out of the three of them, she would have had a hard time. They were looking positively disheveled, eyes wide and stricken features.

Woah.

"What happened?," David inquired as soon as he got to the kitchen, placing his hands on the counter. Fuck, he looked like a prince laying out his battle plan alright. Funny enough, he wasn't even looking at her - he was glaring at Killian, as if he expected all of this to be something to blame on him.

The man in question only managed to put his hands in front of him, shrugging innocently. "Don't look at me, I'm still waiting to find out myself."

Ruby came behind him, coming to stand beside Emma and taking the seat that had been previously occupied by Killian, and propelled herself forwards so they'd stand side by side, legs brushing. She shivered as her friend's hand closed over hers - Ruby always had cold hands and feet. Something to do with blood circulation or some shit she had explained to her countless times whenever she whined about it. "Henry said you freaked out about something they delivered home?"

Emma closed her eyes for a moment until she locked gazes with Killian. He nodded and walked to the living room, coming back with the dreaded thing in his hands. He positioned it on the counter in front of her little, special, dysfunctional family. "Here."

She felt all three of them staring intently at her, like they were waiting for her approval before they perused the contents of the fucking thing. Like she wanted to touch that box again - it hadn't brought anything other than anxiety and bad memories. She went on tapping her nails against the colored ceramic, ignoring their knowing looks until she spied from the corner of the eye Mary Margaret huffing exasperatedly and grabbing the package, opening it and pouring its contents over the linoleum, papers flying around them as they fell. For a mad, fleeting moment all she could think of was that show where bills are thrown into the air and people have to grab them.

In this case, they'd get random articles and prints of her life since she had become a celebrity. Not so appealing, she was sure.

Cue to her family freaking out. She should have considered grabbing a pair of earplugs for this part. It wasn't until she heard Ruby's gasp that she realized she had found the note - alerting her of who had been responsible behind the whole thing. She passed it to her brother - Emma wasn't really looking forward to seeing his expression, she was sure she'd feel like a teenager all over again as his face hardened when he came to the conclusion that someone was trying to mess with his little sister, - and David lastly made sure Mary Margaret could see it too.

Let the screeching begin, guys.

"No fucking way."

"This can't be happening."

"I'm going to murder that bastard right now."

"How the hell did he... I mean..."

"Emma..."

They kept going on and on for a while, commenting on the articles, the note, the pictures. Hell they even started examining the package just in case they could find any clue about where it had come from. Emma was fighting really hard not to comment on how CSI they all looked at the moment, looking for any kind of lead or possible angle in which their mysterious criminal - was he a criminal? Was he just trying to mess with her head? What did he want in fact? Who knew, - could have possibly found her.

It wasn't until she heard Mary Margaret trying to get her attention to ask for what felt like the millionth time what had exactly happened - after getting Killian's version and apparently not feeling satisfied with what she had heard, which was absolutely ridiculous, what else could be behind opening the door to the mailman, signing and closing it again? - that all the pent up frustration and anxiety crippling her exploded. She banged the mug on the smooth linoleum surface in front of her, noticing in the corner of her mind that she had possibly chipped the mug, and started at her family, blazing eyes in their direction and her hands nearly trembling as she attempted to control her emotions. "What? What do you want me to say? What am I supposed to make of this? Huh? How I should have known better? Or how have I been so fucking stupid to think he would never show up after what he did and try to fuck his way around with my life? Or what I should tell Henry now? Or just what the fuck does he want?"

She hurriedly stood from her stool, ignoring Ruby's outstretched hand in her direction and Mary Margaret's pleading eyes. "I need a moment," she declared. She made her way towards Henry's room, only a fleeting glance sent at Killian in her wake. As soon as she got inside, she walked over to his bed, collapsing on the mattress and hugging his pillow in her hands. Laying on her side, she spied some pictures he kept on his bedside table: of Ruby and him, faces full of paint from a fair they had assisted some years ago, at Ruth's with her brother, of them both when they first moved to LA and got properly installed in their new place. She took notice of one he had added recently that she hadn't even seen. Stretching out her arm, she picked it up and a fond smile stole her lips when she saw Henry, Nana and Killian in one of their walks around the neighborhood. She guessed Ruby had taken it while she had been in Europe and they had spent time together in between. She fingered her son's frame in the picture, his features light with contentment as he ran with his dog, a teasing grin sent in Killian's way.

It was that grin that brought Emma back to memory lane. Of course.

Because, as cheesy as it sounded, sometimes all a girl needed to fall for a guy was a cocky smirk and a bad attitude.

Neal.

They had met when she was a junior in college – she had been young, careless, naïve, and incredibly stupid. She saw it now, years later: how she had let him captivate her, trap her in so easily. He had been charming, magnetic; the kind of charismatic guy who lured you to him like a moth to the flame. The kind of boy you'd never think would be interested in a girl like her.

Alas, he had.

And she had been so surprised by that fact, that she hadn't really stopped to consider all the choices she was making at the moment, as any lovestruck young girl would be, when all she had was love to offer to this guy who claimed to love her. There was no David or no Ruth there to loom over her – she had moved to San Francisco to join SF State University, while David stayed home and started his business, though the next year he moved there when all hell broke loose – and despite the fact that she had been getting infamously along with Ruby and Mary Margaret, two of the girls she shared a dorm with in the city, they kind of drifted apart for a while, considering how Emma spent most of her time with Neal instead of with girls her age and who may had helped her when he let her down.

She wasn't proud of the things she had done at that time. Not at all. She wished someone would wipe her memory and leave it all behind, but seeing as there were no actual magic wands or spells to 'obliviate' oneself, she had to deal with the mistakes she'd made during that troublesome period of her life. She had been out most nights, she had tried things she would never had dared before, and she had even been a couple of nights in the police station for minor crimes whenever Neal asked her for help in one of his 'little adventures', as he liked to call them. Emma had felt elated at first when he had asked her to join him: the adrenaline, the excitement, the rush; it was all new to her.

Until one of his escapades got a little out of hand.

He told her they were pranking some frat douche's place – and hopefully, taking some kind of haul from it before they left. Emma was supposed to wait in her standard yellow bug while he did whatever he had planned inside of the poor guy's place. She didn't even know who he was – the only thing she did know was that he would probably be really sorry in the morning for pissing off her boyfriend. You didn't mess with Neal Cassidy and got away with it, that was what she had learned since they had gotten together. One way or another, her blood run cold when smoke started coming out from the windows and she spied flames behind the panes. Frozen in horror, she hadn't even stopped to think: she had called the police and the fire department, absolutely horrified at the possibility that someone could get hurt in the fire. She wasn't sure what had even happened inside, if that had been Neal's plan all along or if it had been an accident.

When the firemen got everything under control, she had been about to pass out from stress and worry for him. She had told them that there were people inside, but apparently they had escaped before the fire started, as they didn't find anybody inside. Uneasiness had slowly started to creep into her body, dread taking a hold of her heart when she realized that he had left without her. He had left her.

Not only was the sudden understanding that he hadn't even cared to check if she had gone into the house to look for him, or if she had been hurt the worst that came to happen anyway. The police took her for questioning to the station, and as naive as she had been back then, she hadn't even been aware of the way the inspector kept looking at her when she mentioned she knew there were people inside the house.

Now, of course, she wanted to slap herself. Of course they'd think she was behind the whole thing - or aware of it, at least.

Which was what made her spend the worst night of her life in a cell, sitting against the wall on her cot, waiting for a miracle, for a fairy godmother to show up and save her from that fucking nightmare that was slowly becoming her life.

It had been David who had driven all the way from their hometown to San Francisco to see she made it out of there. They still hadn't found evidence against her, and the fire department had declared that it appeared like it had been an accident and not something planned beforehand, so she had been free to go with 50 hours of community service to attend to after a couple of sessions of endless questioning, explanations, names revealed and tears.

It had taken everything in her not to break down when he brought her back to the dorm.

She hadn't realized she was still tracing the picture's frame with her fingers leisurely when she heard the creaking of the door opening. She halted her movements for a second, but kept going when she realized he wasn't going to ask her to move or get out to join them all in the kitchen again. She felt the bed dip beside her, a body adjusting to the somewhat ridiculously small bed for both adults outstretched over it.

A sigh escaped her lips. "I knew they would send you."

"Well, I am the charming one. Even if Jones keeps trying to take my place."

She rolled over in the tiny space she was constricted to after he had joined her, maneuvering herself with the photograph frame still in her hand. She sent him a hard look. "We are so not talking about Killian."

David just rolled his eyes at her, grabbing the pillow from her other hand and positioning it under their heads after motioning her to lift it until it was ready. "That's not why I'm here and you know it." They stared at each other for a long moment, and nostalgia engulfed Emma as she recalled simpler times, when they were young and they'd ditch homework to go and read comic books and magazines in his room while Ruth believed they were being in fact productive. Of lazy evenings spent together watching movies, sharing stories from school and people they both knew. Those first crushes David had experienced and made him seek her out for 'girl trouble'. As she had said, simpler times. "I saw the pictures and the note. Do you have any idea why is it that he suddenly popped up in here?"

Emma knew her brother wouldn't beat around the bushes. That's what she had liked most about him when they had met back in the day when she was told he'd be her lab partner. However, right now she wished she didn't have to acknowledge the ugly truth. "I think you already know," she exhaled after a pause.

She lifted her gaze to his, and recognition and understanding clouded his eyes, nodding gravelly. Of course he'd know. He was her brother, he knew the story behind Neal and her, and he knew how messed up some people could be. "Henry," he finally stated, tone somber and haunted.

She nodded, biting her lip in distress and running in her head for the hundredth time the possibilities behind his reasoning sending those photographs and his sudden wish to make his presence known after so many years and his more than obvious abandonment.

Passing her fingers through her hair - God, she hadn't even gotten to wash it after the trip back from Europe, it must be a mess at that point, - she added to further her point, "It's the only thing he could use to get to me. That's the only explanation I can come up with."

A sudden rumble startled her, until she realized it was David growling by her side, frown so hard that his eyes were barely visible. "What a piece of shit. I swear I'm punching him if he dares to show up here."

"You know he will," she countered back, discouraged. If she knew something about Neal, it was that he'd do anything just to get what he wanted.

David sent her a curious glance. "I really don't. I never actually met him, remember?"

That was right, he hadn't even been in the city with her. Ruby had managed to get a peek of him a couple of times, and so had Mary Margaret and Ella when he popped up in her dorm to take her out or she sneaked him up to her room, but that was it.

The supposedly greatest love of her life, her first love: a blurry face for everybody else but her. A ghost.

How sweet.

She stopped trying to tame locks of her hair, pinching the bridge of her nose instead. "Yeah... it was so fast. Yet never meant to be, as I cruelly learned in the end." Oh, Emma Swan. You could probably drown in all the venom pouring from your words, I'm sure.

At her words, David flinched, his expression turning pained in a heartbeat. She saw him clenching his eyes shut as he spoke. "Please don't remind me of that night. Don't. You have no idea... having to watch you fall apart. Your face when I had to take you out from that place. I don't think you understand how hard it was Emma." He stared back at her then, taking her hand in his and lacing their fingers together. "You're my sister. You're my family. I should have protected you, I should have been there before everything..."

She brought up their joined hands in front of his face. "Don't. You weren't even there."

"Yet I could have..."

God, he was going to make her say it, didn't he? Again? She sighed - ugh, she was sighing so much today, it was not even funny - and sent him a glare so he'd let her speak. "David. We have talked about this so many times - let it go. I did. He fucked me up good, yeah, but he also gave me Henry." She lifted the picture frame still in her other hand, waving it in front of him and unable not to smile as the grin her son shot to the camera in the picture warmed her even while discussing such a heartbreaking moment in her life. "As much as it hurt, something good came out of it."

David took the frame for her, inspecting it slowly, his lips morphing into a tiny smile as his fingers outlined Henry's silhouette just as she had done earlier. He placed it in the small gap between them and held her stare unwaveringly. "We will face him. We will take him down if he tries anything."

She let out a pained laugh. What was with all of these? They managed to sound like they came from some party line to inspire losers like her. "You sound like Killian with all this positive crap."

"He's starting to grow on me," he commented with a grin. Emma noted to herself that this should be considered a small victory when it came to the David-Killian stand down after Mary Margaret had told her how worried her brother was about her newfound relationship with the musician. Thank God for small victories. David left the bed in one swift movement, rounding it so he stood to her side and offering her his arm to help her up. "Come on, let's get out of here - Mary Margaret and Ruby must be worried."

She made a point of groaning loudly as he got her to her feet - as they had always done when they still lived together and Ruth asked David to make sure she didn't stay in bed, having to drag her like a rag doll most of the times until she was out of the sheets - and they both came back to the kitchen, where Ruby, Mary Margaret and Killian were, of course, expecting them. Emma shuffled a bit on her feet, embarrassed at her previous outburst at her friend when she had been nothing but trying to help her. She turned apologetic eyes in her direction, but they weren't needed: both of her friends ran to her and hugged her, arms intertwined and locks of hair interlocked between bodies pressed tightly together.

If David laying by her side had brought her back to her teenage years, these two made this embrace feel like they were back to that time when they had all discovered something changed: they had grown up. All the innocence, the silly ideals they had when they believed everything was bright, shiny and new fading in the background and reality crashed down on them: responsibilities, paperwork, deadlines. Yet they always made it brighter, happier by just being there.

"Are you okay?," Mary Margaret inquired after pulling back from her, though not letting go of her hand. She grimaced, not really sure what she was supposed to say. Was she?

Quick, Emma: duck and run. "As well as one could be. Can we not discuss the matter at hand?"

Ruby led her to her seat, Killian sitting across from her and assessing her narrowly. "Are you serious? How can we not? We need to do something about it first, right?," her friend screeched, arms sweeping around her making her bracelets crinkle merrily.

Emma let her head fall to the countertop in a tired gesture, wishing she could just go back to bed and forget this had happened in the first place. "He just has sent it, I still don't know what he means by that note."

Killian's voice made her raise her gaze to him. "Emma, I know you're in a bit of a shock right now, but I don't think this counts as a late Christmas card."

She scrunched up her nose at him, jutting out her chin. "I know that, you idiot. I meant that maybe he is waiting to see what I'll do now before he makes the next move. For all I know, this could be from a crazy fan who has gone too far with the stalkering."

"How do you know it's not?," he asked, curious. Oh, right. Of course he wouldn't know. And he hadn't even inquired about it earlier, she had to give it to him: he had patience.

"Because of this," she explained, taking the note in her hand and shoving it in his direction. At his still uncertain expression, she dropped her eyes to the ground, avoiding his eyes when she felt her cheeks flaming when she went on to explain herself. "He... he used to call me that all the time."

As silence fell around them, she lastly managed to gulp down her growing indecision and looked back up at him. His eyes were fixed on her, kind and soft, probably recalling the countless times he had in fact called her that and she had shown every damn time how it made her feel.

Like punching him. Or puking. Or screaming. Or something equally disgruntled at the idea of someone ever referring her as a princess ever again.

David cleared his throat, interrupting the charged stare exchanged betwen them. "Look, at least we have to tell someone about this. If he approaches you again, we'll need to be ready. A lawyer, the police, whatever it takes. And Regina, I'm sure she will help with anything."

"Even Mr. Gold," Ruby piped in.

Emma waved a hand at them, ignoring their ideas. "Don't worry about it, I know the first step here." They all stared at her expectantly. Seriously? Shouldn't they guess?

Who was like the voice of reason whenever she had had some kind of problem?

"Calling Archie," she explained, somehow managing to make it sound like 'duh'.

Killian made a face at her, stroking his chin as he drawled, "Archie as in the guy who walks Pongo not far from here?"

Oh, right. She had forgotten he had met him not long ago while they walked the dogs. Huh. Yep, that was Archie, her beloved tiny, smart voice who used to be kind of her prince in shining armor whenever she needed advise or a hand in paper stuff she had no idea how to deal with. "Yeah. He's my lawyer - has been for years."

Her family nodded, happy with the idea - they all knew Archie, and valued his help and judgement when it came to stuff like that. He also had other clients who were in the business, so Emma was sure he'd have some idea as to how to approach this.

Pleased with the outcome of their little intervention, Ruby knocked her fists on the counter with unusual force, her hazel eyes glowing. "Okay then. Let's take the fucker down."

---

"So. How was that for an eventful day, huh?"

"I don't know how you are able to joke about this," she said as she dropped her purse on the table, dragging her feet towards the bathroom to change into her pajamas. She was so not doing anything else: longest day ever didn't even begin to describe this whole thing. First, she wakes up to have silly banter with Killian, then she gets a fucking creepy souvenir from her estranged ex boyfriend for the past eleven years who suddenly wants to be all spooky with barely concealed threats, then she has to make her son leave with her manager so he doesn't find out about said creepy message until they know how to deal with it, then her family shows up and demands answers, then her brother gives her a pep talk and the worst night of her life is revisited in her mind, then they all decide to call Archie to see what they should do, later they try to eat something before going to his office downtown but all she manages to gulp down is a miserable hot dog, and fucking finally they get to see Archie after he is done with some scandal another of his clients was experiencing - so they had had to wait for an excruciatingly long time.

It had been fun, all in all.

Killian followed her, rummaging in her closet for the shirt and sweatpants he had started wearing to sleep whenever he stayed at her place. "Considering I am still waiting for the story, I think I'm allowed to."

Emma halted, toothbrush frozen mid-movement as she stared at his reflection in the mirror when he entered the bathroom behind her. Wait. "Didn't Ruby and Mary Margaret tell you while I was with David?," she asked, startled. Had he been with her all day and still hadn't heard the whole story? She had assumed they had filled him in.

He shrugged, studying her carefully from the corner of his eye as he picked up one of those toothbrushes they gave you in hotels that she had given him the other day. 'For her hygienic safety', of course. "They just told me it was Henry's father who had sent it. When I asked what he did to you, they said he didn't know about the kid because he left you before he even knew."

She scoffed, finishing brushing and rinsing her mouth, closing the tap with a shove. "That's a nice way of putting it."

"I wouldn't know," he declared offhandedly as he finished too, leaving his poor excuse of a toothbrush beside hers. Huh. The whole toothbrush thing reminded her of those stupid chick flicks rules about 'moving in together' when you left yours in the guy's place and viceversa. Too soon, buddy. Too soon. When she made to turn around to go to bed, he gripped her arm, halting her and spinning her around so she'd face him. "Look, if you don't want to talk about it, I get it, but..."

Emma felt all energy leaving her, draining her all of a sudden. She let herself seek his warmth, pressing her body against him and hooking her arms around his neck, speaking in his ear. "No, no. I just...," she paused, her hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She inhaled heavily before continuing, her voice coming out strained. "...talking about it makes it hurt. You know?"

"I do. So much." His hand caressed her side, and she felt him pushing her a bit until they were looming beside her bed. He sat with his back pressed against the headboard, and she crawled to him until she was sprawled across it, her head resting on his legs. His fingers playing with her hair, she closed her eyes, savoring the moment and wishing she could stay in there forever.

But he was waiting for a story. Even if it wasn't one of Henry's cherished fairytales, this one would have to do.

She wasn't starting it with 'Once Upon A Time', though. No way.

"We met when I was in college. He had 'troublemaker' branded on his face, and I knew that, but I guess I was kind of into that. I don't know. In fact, I would never have expected him to want anything to do with the small town girl who did her homework and was perfectly responsible and overall good daughter material. But he did. He taught me about pickpocketing. He taught me how to smoke. I nursed my first hangover with him." She paused, a blush staining her cheeks as she recalled other nights spent with Neal. "Let's say a lot of my 'firsts' were with him," she admitted finally, her voice squeaking as she did.

Killian hummed, his expression cautious while he listened to her. She could see his eyes glowing in the faint light coming from the street lights outside of the window, - fuck, she could even see his lashes. Why did he have such long lashes? Ugh. "Seems like he also was your first heartbreak."

Huh. She guessed he was. Her lips formed a sad smile, her fingers going to her neck to play with the blue star hanging at the base of her throat, and she saw him following her movements with a faint smile of his own. "You so observant," she commented with a sigh. "Yeah. One night, one of his stunts went a bit too far and he fled the scene, leaving me there to take the fall for it. Never heard of him again." Pausing awkwardly, she turned her head to peek at the articles, photos and note, now stacked neatly after they had shown them to Archie and resting on her bedside table. "Until now."

Killian followed her gaze with a frown. "Did you know you were pregnant when it happened?"

"No, it wasn't until later. Cherry on top, that was." It really had been. Not only had she nearly been blamed for something she hadn't even known after an episode in which she had thought her boyfriend could have died in a fire or had caused it; no: she had to find out she was pregnant with the child of said man. Of course now she knew she wouldn't have done anything different, if just for the sole reason that her son had grown up to be nothing like his father. At all.

A fact that she thanked for any deity above every day of her life.

Killian exhaled heavily, letting his body drop from his sitting position so he'd be lying beside her on the bed, his hand coming up to caress her arms in feather-like strokes, making her shiver. "I am so sorry."

He sounded so honest, she felt her heart start beating faster. She closed the gap between them, awkwardly dragging herself closer to him until their noses were touching. "I am so tired," she muttered.

"Yeah. Me too."

And she knew he understood she didn't just mean physical exhaustion. This had nothing to do with it - well, maybe a little, it had been a tiring, emotionally draining day. But this whole mess had taken its toll with her, that was for sure.

They laid there for a while, and Emma ghosted her fingers over the planes of his face leisurely. He had shut his eyes, his lashes casting shadows against his cheekbones. His mouth curled into a smile as her hands ghosted his skin, and all of a sudden those eyes of his were looking closely at her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Are you afraid?"

She scooted closer to him, burying her face against his chest. "Terrified."

"Of not knowing what he wants?"

She almost wanted to snort at that. If he only knew. "Oh, I think I know what he wants."

He pulled back from her, a frown touching his lips as he studied her, probably wondering why she hadn't said anything earlier. "What would that be?"

Emma propped herself on one elbow, not a trace of mockery or amusement in her tone as she leveled him with a glare. "What could he possibly want, eleven years later, after finding out his ex girlfriend is a famous actress?"

His eyes crinkled worriedly at the corners. "You mean money?"

Ding ding ding, we have a winner.

She threw up her free hand in a 'duh' gesture. "What else? I'm sure the possibility of a reconciliation is not on the cards, so..." That'd go well: instead of creepy pictures and signed notes, he could always have shown up with candy and flowers asking for forgiveness, huh?

She would have been too glad to punch him and knee him in the groin just to make her point. Alas, not everything went as she wished.

Fuck it.

"Why would he ask you for money?," Killian went on, narrowing his eyes, as if trying to understand what the motivation behind Neal's actions was. Letting out a long sigh, she rolled to her other side to grab the stack of pictures, bringing them back to set them in the gap resting between them.

She laid them out carefully on the duvet. "Killian... look closely at the pictures. What do they all have in common?"

Tearing his eyes away from her, he picked one, then another, examining them closely until he had nearly gone through them all, narrowing his brow as realization dawned on him. "Henry."

Bingo. "There you are." She wasn't sure if Neal had actually found out about her way earlier than now with all the boom with her last movie, but she was sure it hadn't been until news of Henry had hit the press that he had decided to check up on them both. It wouldn't be so difficult to find out he was the exact age a kid conceived around the time they had been together would be.

"And what are you going to tell him?," Killian wondered at her side, picking up the pictures and putting them behind him under her grateful gaze. She really didn't want to see them around.

"I have no idea."

As if he was reading her thoughts, he asked, "does he know the whole story?"

Why was he so perceptive again? It was becoming annoying at times. Eyes lingering on his, she went on, remembering one of the few times Henry had dared to ask about his father and the onslaught of emotions that had brought with it. "He knows his father left me before I knew I was pregnant. He doesn't know the whole nearly-in-jail thing. Or that he was into vandalism."

"Why?"

She scooted even closer, wrapping her arms around him, her cheek pressed against his chest letting her feel the steady sound of his heartbeat. "When he asked me about him, I was willing to tell him, but when he heard that he abandoned me, he didn't want to know anymore."

She had been the one most surprised at this development, as she had expected the kid to keep bombarding her with questions about his father - as any boy his age would do, full of curiosity and wonder about his roots. She hadn't pushed him, though, and from then on he avoided the topic altogether, and whenever something came too close for comfort about it, he brushed it off.

Killian kept pushing strands of her hair behind her ear, taking them out of her face. "He probably guessed you could have abandoned him too, yet you didn't. You chose him."

The soft-spoken statement tore her from her thoughts, bringing her attention back to him. She met his eyes steadily. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm not sure how he's going to react to this - his father using him to try to extort me. Not what a kid wants to hear about their parents, I'm sure."

A soft, steady sound, like padding, came from the hall, and both she and Killian turned to look towards the door, where Nana poked her head behind the door, probably confused as to where Henry was. She was used to sleep in his room, after all. Emma sat up, patting rhythmically with her hand the side of the bed so she'd join her there. "Aww, baby, come here. You miss Henry? You can sleep in here with us."

"Faaaantastic. Sleeping with the dog," Killian commented dramatically, when in reality he was joining her to poke Nana's head playfully. A loud beep interrupted them abruptly, and Killian ran to his feet to fish his phone from the pocket of his jacket. He scrunched up his forehead in confusion as he stared at the screen, and Emma narrowed her brow. She really didn't need any more bad news today.

"What is it?"

He threw the phone to her carelessly as he slouched down to his previous spot, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. "Private number."

Her eyes sought his, feeling a pang of annoyance at his nonchalant attitude. She hated being ignored on the phone. "Aren't you going to pick it up? Maybe it's important."

He sent her an annoyed look, huffing like a kid. Oh, God. "I hate picking up private numbers - suddenly it's people selling stuff or whatever and it makes me sick. I'm not taking it."

"Are you serious? Give me that," she proclaimed, lunging for the phone and pressing the button just as he exasperatedly whined "Emma!"

She ignored him, trying to listen to whoever it was on the other side of the line. "Hello?" She thought she heard someone breathing, but it was hard to tell. "Hello?," she repeated, growing irritated. Okay, maybe Killian had a point. As long as this wasn't someone whispering creepy 'seven days' lines, she was fine. She still resented Ruby for making her watch that stupid movie, it had only made her disconnect her phone for a week. Right before she was about to ask again to the caller, there was a rustling sound and the end line on the receiver. She stared at the screen, surprised. What was that about? "They hung up."

Killian tried to suppress a laugh at her side, nipping at his bottom lip and failing miserably. "Of course they did - they expected my amazing voice and got yours instead. That's disappointment in a nutshell."

She made a face at him, even though she could feel her face breaking into a grin. He was so full of himself. "Shut up."

One moment she was sitting, the next one she was pinned down to the bed with him hovering over her. She was about to call him out on these sudden jerky movements of his - he did have those when he slept, sometimes he startled her so bad when they were sleeping she thought he was having a seizure or he was being murdered - when she noticed him tracing her lips with his finger, rendering her speechless at the intensity of his gaze. "I missed this all day."

She cocked her head to the side, confused. What was he talking about? Just as she was about to ask, he made a point of touching the dimples at the corner of her mouth. What Henry had explained to her once where 'the forbidden kiss' was hidden - something Peter Pan related, if she remembered correctly. Again. She really should look out on the so many things that story had relating to her life right about now. "I hate seeing you miserable," he added, features softening as he tilted her chin up to peck her on the lips lightly.

She suppressed a sigh, laughing in spite of herself at his tenderness. "Thank God you were here. I needed a distraction."

Oh, boy. The smile he gave her ought to be illegal. What had she done?

"If what you wanted was a distraction, you only needed to ask...," he uttered, looking down at her again, eyes twinkling beneath his lashes with mischief.

Her pulse picked up in pace without warning, her breath going out in a gasp as his fingers wandered over her flank, lifting her top to ghost them over her skin. "Killian... I don't think..."

Sensing her indecision, he stopped and leaned over her ever so slightly, his eyes seeking her own with such an intensity she found herself unable to breathe for a moment. "Emma, look at me. Listen: shitty things happen. They do. But we can either fret about it all day until it eats us, or we can live while we try to tame it." He paused and made a point of cocking a challenging brow at her, sighing like what he was about to say pained him. "So yes: we're going to have amazing sex and you're going to love it. No, you shouldn't feel guilty for being happy even if your pathetic excuse of an ex wants to mess with your life. Get it?" He finished with a poke to her side, making her jump.

Tangling her fingers in his hair, she brought him down to her tantalizingly slowly, her gaze never wavering from his until every inch of their bodies were pressed together. "Aye aye, captain."

---

"Why are we going to the studio again?" This could probably be the fifth time she asked, and she was sure he wouldn't grace her with a proper answer, but hey, what was a girl to do?

"Could you please shut up and do what you're told for once in your life, Swan?"

See?

"Ohhh, surnames basis. Touchy."

He shot her a look from behind his sunnies, a dark eyebrow clearly visible as he studied her. "You seem to be awfully chipper today. It's rather refreshing, considering you've all but mopped around since the other day."

She huffed in response, fiddling with the edge of her camisole and trying really hard not to pout or act overall like a child. Which was proving to be quite challenging, that was for sure. "Can you really blame me?"

His hand sought hers over the console, lacing their fingers together in a firm grip. Biting her lip, she turned to him as his thumb kept rubbing idle circles on the skin of her palm. "Hey: I know. But you heard what Archie said, you have to keep going on with your life; until that fucking Neal of yours doesn't give any sign of life, we're at a loss about what to do."

That was exactly what Archie had instructed her to do after their meeting the other day. Emma hadn't been too happy about it: she wanted to get this over with, one way or another, once and for all, and knowing that she'd have to wait until the asshat showed up again or tried to contact her or just freaking told her what it was that he wanted, she really couldn't do anything about it. They had given Archie the package so it could be inspected professionally, to attempt to track back where it had come from exactly, but as far as he had told her when they had called each other the following days, it was form someplace in LA. Nothing new, to be honest: if the bastard had found out where she lived, she was sure he had been roaming around to check it out. Even to take a peek at Henry and herself.

The thought made her shiver in dread.

"I hate it when you're right," she grumbled under her breath, letting her head fall against the glass of the window. Yeah, not dropping the drama queen act, not happening.

Not regretting it either.

"Which is pretty much always, huh?," he commented with a full-on smirk.

"Shut up," she replied, though she had to admit she wasn't annoyed with him. She couldn't, really. He had been too supportive, too attentive towards her since this whole mess had stormed into her life, always trying to make her stay active, pushing her to keep busy and not brood constantly at the possibility of this man ruining her life - even though they had already decided that was not happening. If he wanted to mess with her, let him try. She had professionals willing to help kick his ass if needed, she had money in case she had to grudgingly pay him to get the fuck away from her life and her son's, she had a family who supported her every move and, more importantly, she had eleven years of proof of being a fit, responsible mother behind her against his oh-shit-i-am-a-father card.

Yeah, buddy. Try to outdo that.

"But at least you could tell me what we're doing," she whined once more. She knew they were going to the studio, and she guessed the boys would be chilling in their usual place - if they weren't she just had no idea what it was they were planning then. And the last time she had been over at the studio with another surprise to fret over, they had ended up in freaking Coachella.

Yeah, call her crazy, but she wasn't really sure what to expect.

"And ruining the surprise? I don't think so. And it's too much fun to see you distress over it, love."

She narrowed her eyes in his direction, her lips thinning in annoyance. "You suck." Just as the words left her lips, she raised a finger at him, a warning in her eyes at his surely imminent innuendo. "Don't you even dare."

He barked out a laugh, hand clapping the wheel as he chortled. "Wasn't planning to."

They fought for the rest of the ride about how inappropriate would it be to add lines he and Victor liked to use too much on her and Ruby - or in each conversation they were ever engaged in, who was she kidding, - in their songs, leading to them consequently discussing those famous subliminal messages that some Disney movies had sported years ago. Killian hadn't even been aware of those, and made her promise to show them to him so he could see them and maybe, as he suggested, 'prove if they actually worked'.

What a loser.

They parked and walked hand in hand inside, and Emma caught sight of Belle typing furiously on her laptop, rebel curls framing her face in her haste. God, her hands were a blur, they moved that fast. Emma was kind of fascinated with people who could type at such a speed.

Killian approached her, knocking on her desk to draw her attention, making her jump in surprise, blue enormous eyes meeting them. "Hey Belle."

"Hey guys!" The petite brunette left her chair and pushed her glasses to the top of her hair, coming to a halt in front of her for a second before she hugged her firmly, and Emma was left wondering how such a little woman could be so strong. Well, maybe dealing with that husband of hers needed proper training or something. Or she just plainly had some kind of superpower she hid under that whole sweet façade. "Emma, how are you? I heard about the whole thing, and if you need anything, you know we're here to help with whatever we can. Rumple knows who to call when dealing with creepers and all these kind of losers who'd try to use you for their own gain." She signaled towards Killian with her head. "These five have had a couple of scares here and there, so just know that we understand."

Emma nodded, silently patting herself on the back for not giggling when Belle had mentioned the creepers. It sounded so funny coming from this woman. In fact, lots of things she said made her want to let out a laugh at the hilarity of the situation. "Thank you. I'm fine, trying to keep my mind busy instead of worrying."

Killian stepped in, snaking an arm around her waist, telling Belle over her shoulder, "She's doing a crappy job nevertheless but whatever."

Emma shot him a glare, baring her teeth in his direction. "Could you just leave me alone?"

"Never," he stated, pecking her on the cheek. He stepped behind her, arms still hooked around her middle and plopping his head on the top of hers as he kept on with his conversation with Belle. "Oh hey, did you pick up that parcel they sent you the other day? Your husband and I were here when they dropped it off."

Belle's expression turned confused, eyebrow rising in question while she stepped back, leaning her back against her desk to sit on it. "A parcel? Of what?"

She felt Killian shrugging behind her. "I have no clue. Apparently you had ordered something and they mailed it here for you."

"I didn't order anything. How strange," the brunette commented, disconcerted.

Emma couldn't blame her, but this whole weird-packages being delivered lately was starting to creep her out, and she felt the need to joke her way around just to drop the subject before she started trembling, memories of the scene when she opened that box and the note peeking at her from inside flooding her mind. "Maybe it was a secret admirer's thing."

Belle snorted loudly, a glint in her eye as she looked at her, making her smile. "Yeah, right, that makes so much more sense." She shook her head, shrugging her thin shoulders in response, nearly embodying the picture of unconcern. "Seriously, I have no idea. Maybe they got it wrong but oh well."

Killian stepped back from her, taking her hand and leading her to the studio door, speaking over his shoulder to his manager's wife. "Either way, we're going in. See you later, blue eyes."

Belle's answer fading as they trudged across the building's halls in long strides, Emma drawled in an amused voice as they approached the studio, "You should consider dropping the nicknames, you're awful at them."

He seemed to come out of some kind of stupor, shaking lightly his head and flashing her a sheepish grin. "What?"

Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she counted with her fingers. "Red Lips, now Blue Eyes..."

He dipped his face in her direction, breaths mingling as they came face to face, and shot her a smirk. "Oh, jealous that you don't have one, Goldilocks?"

With a huffed "Get out of here," she dropped his hand and pushed open the door to the studio. She saw that the rest of the band were behind the pane separating the two rooms, like they were ready to record or something, all of them wearing earphones as they played their instruments. It was Jefferson who took notice of them first, and she heard him calling the rest to stop playing. They all dropped the earphones and the guitars and bass, August and Jefferson just getting up from their seats before they all came out and joined them in the kind-of-living room they all usually hung out. "Hey Emma!"

She smiled warmly at them, hugging them all briefly when they approached her. "Hi guys."

"How are you?" Philip asked, concern clear in his voice as he stared at her closely. She buried her hands in the pockets of her jeans, rocking on the balls of her feet while she thought of a proper response - an honest one, in this case. She had been asked so many times this during this last week, she wasn't truly sure if what she was telling was truthful or not anymore. But these guys, they deserved to know.

She trusted them.

"As well as I can be, but it's great to see you all," she confessed at last, in an attempt not to sound too worried or something. Checking out their expressions, she suddenly remembered her purpose here. Or the lack-of-information about it, now that she thought about it. She squared her shoulders and put her hands on her hips. "So, your frontman is being all cryptic about me being here. Which is slightly disturbing and worrying. For me. You know. Because it's him. Who knows what's going on in that head of his."

Killian rolled his eyes at her, picking up a bottle of water sitting on the table and taking a long sip before addressing her. "I feel so warm right now, thank you darling for the kind words."

"Ignore him," Victor advised her, sending his friend a shit-eating grin. Huh. Like she needed to know that - if she hadn't mastered that particular skill when it came to dealing with Killian Jones, her head would have probably exploded long ago. Or he'd be dead. Because she would have killed him. And no one would have been able to blame her about it because he'd freaking had it coming for sure.

Maybe she should just kill him so she could have a place in a Cell Block Tango number...

"I try my best, I assure you," she finally answered Victor, smiling mischievously.

Jefferson clapped, interrupting them - she really was starting to see a pattern there, it was something he always did. What a curious guy. When he was sure he had the group's whole attention, he focused on Emma. "Killian told us what happened and we wanted to cheer you up. We guessed we could have a day off from the prepping of the album before we start recording, so..."

August picked it up there, a smile covering his lips as he stared at her dumbfounded expression. "...We thought it would be fun to make the Emma Show."

At the silence that followed his statement, and the expectant faces they were all shooting in her direction, she felt the need to ask, feeling completely out of her element, "... what is the Emma Show?"

Victor groaned, like he couldn't believe she was even daring to ask. "A show just for Emma. Duh."

"I'm lost." She really was. Like, lost-in-the-freaking-island-with-polar-bears-and-b lack-smoke lost.

Philip grabbed her by the shoulders, leading her to a chair that had been placed right in front of the window pane dividing both rooms. He pushed her lightly so she'd take a seat and then gave her one of the earphones, its wire plugged to some amazing-looking stereo and laptop - both of which she had no idea what function they had, and either way she wasn't even going to ask, so she just followed orders silently. "You'll see. You just - sit there, relax and enjoy."

They all left to go back into the proper studio, Victor making a point of waving at her ridiculously like they hadn't just been talking literally ten seconds ago when they reached their places and took back their instruments. August tapped his own earphones and then pointed at her, so she put hers over her head, adjusting them so they wouldn't be too uncomfortable, and as soon as she did, she could hear perfectly what was going on inside there, every string plucked on their guitars, the beat of the drum in Jefferson's charge. She sat there, marveled, until Victor, once more, waved at her and cleared his throat loudly, coming closer to the mic sitting in front of him.

He tapped it lightly, and they all cringed when the sound reverberated through the earphones. He smiled apologetically, and went on, curtseying mockingly in her direction. "Hi, ladies and gentle-nope, just the lady. Hi, m'lady. Welcome to the Emma Show. What you should expect: Emma Swan's personal playlist brought to you by the outstanding, shiver-inducing, panty-dropper members of The Lost Boys."

What?!

"Now, take a sit, hold your beer and don't lose your 3D glasses because you're in for a ride."

Emma didn't even have time to process what was going on, the wink that Killian sent her while he settled himself closer to the mic and rearranged his guitar over his chest the only thing that caught her attention before Jefferson marked their cue to start playing banging his drumsticks against each other. After that, everything was a blur. A wonderful, full of life blur, with lyrics that had touched her since she was a kid, melodies that she knew by heart and she hummed unconsciously, solos she mimicked like she knew what she was doing in case she had a guitar in her hands. Songs that had meant the world to her, that had made her fall in love with them since she had first heard them, obsessively looking for the artist and title so she could look for them and play them non stop until it was branded in her brain. Songs that had made her not feel so alone when she hadn't had anybody yet for her. Songs she had played when she felt lonely even when she had people around her.

The songs of her life.

She wasn't sure how long it was she sat there, staring ahead of her at Killian while he sang, sometimes sitting on his chair and others on his feet, his gaze seeking hers at times and smiling, inclining his head to acknowledge her. It could have been an hour, or two, or it could have been ten minutes, she didn't even care at all. To top it all, they chose as their last one the song she had declared in Coachella as her favorite from the band's concert they had all attended and when she had been lifted to the air along with Ruby and Aurora, covering it in such a breathtaking session she nearly cried out in protest when it was done.

Taking off the earphones and having a hard time to blink back tears, she got up from her seat and all but charged inside the place, running towards the first one she found - it was August - and clinging tightly to him. He returned the hug, asking her in between chuckles if she had liked it. She pulled back from him, staring up at that scruffy face of his - seriously, this guy should advertise something scruff related, there was no way such a perfect stubble could go to waste, - and nearly kicked him for asking such a stupid question. How could she have not loved it? "That was amazing. Thank you. You shouldn't have bothered at all."

Jefferson came to stand at August's other side, and she was seriously surprised at the fondness in his words as he inclined his head in her direction and addressed her heartfelt gratitude, as she had always felt he was the most closed-off one of the group, even if she had managed to strike up a somewhat 'light' friendship with him. "We did and we loved it. And we'd do it again if it meant you'd stop worrying for a while."

Killian joined them, with Philip and Victor in his wake, and held her close to him, pressing a soft kiss to her hairline. She closed her eyes briefly, caught up in the emotions still stirring inside of her. Philip's voice brought her attention back to the band, and she fought hard to focus on him. "We know it is hard. We were nobodies at first and all of a sudden this whole world started exploding around us, and even if it's Killian who gets most of the crap because he is the pretty face and lead singer, we've all had some shit thrown our way. We understand, maybe more than your family or Ruby."

She was rendered a little shocked at his comment, but analyzing it in her head, she guessed what he said was true. She was so used to clinging and depending on her family, she hadn't even realized that these guys would probably know more about issues like the one she was facing than other people. Hell, even Graham would, but she hadn't talked to him yet - she thought he was visiting someone in Seattle, if she recalled correctly, and she hadn't wanted to bother him.

She leaned her head on Killian's shoulder, relishing in his scent before she answered Philip with a heavy breath. "I guess you do, but to be honest, I don't think it's the same. My son's father is trying to use a relationship from eleven years ago to try to get money. From an innocent child."

From what she knew, they hadn't had to deal with something like that, hadn't they? That she knew of, that is.

Victor spoke up then, and the conviction and rather passionate way in which he delivered his speech kind of unsettled Emma, as she was way more used to constantly-teasing-smirky Victor. "And you think this hasn't happened ever? Or something equally wrong? When most people fuck up, they at least have the guarantee that it won't be displayed on every paper and website in the world. Not famous people, though. God forbid we get a rest. Try to picture how Liv Tyler felt when she found out her real father was not Todd Rudgren, but freaking Steve Tyler. Or Anne Hathaway putting up with that Italian guy who kept that shady profile and brushed away scandal every week until she had no other choice but dumping him before he ruined her career." He paused and kicked his forehead with his palm, frustration clear in his voice. "Fuck, even the poor Twilight kids. The girl has been harassed for that affair of hers with her director since it came out."

Emma cringed, each one of those incidents opening up the part of herself where she had hidden all her anxiety and worry over the whole Neal thing threatening to open up and consume her. "I know these things happens, of course I do, I just..."

"Emma, we're not talking just about these other stars and so on. We are talking even from here," Philip declared in a solemn tone, his face carefully guarded. She frowned, her brows knitting together in confusion. Here as in... Los Angeles? Or what was he referring to?

"What do you mean?"

She whirled around to August when he spoke from behind her, arms crossed over his chest and his earlier smile fading slowly. "They mean that once, a girl I met tried something equally fishy some years ago." At her bewildered expression, he rubbed his face with his hand, letting it drop to his side tiredly. "She showed up here telling me she had a daughter and that she was mine."

Oh. My. God. "No," she managed to utter, completely dismayed at the thought.

They all nodded at once and answered her in unison. "Oh, yes."

"What happened?," she inquired, curiosity overriding any other emotion after his confession - trepidation, compassion, sympathy, confusion.

"Honestly? At first I was elated. I had really cared for her, and I had been devastated after leaving her - I met her in Puckett, but of course had to come back home at one point. So when she suddenly claimed I was a father, I saw a possibility of having a family with her." A tight lipped frown pulled at his usually relaxed features, and Emma braced herself for the 'oh shit' moment of the story. "Of course, then Gold made some research about it, probably sniffing some bullshit in there. I didn't want to believe him, but when she casually started dropping hints about child support and going back to Puckett while I stayed here working, it was time for paternity tests."

She worried at her bottom lip, eyes full of sympathy for the keyboardist who had come to be a great confidant and friend since they had run into each other at that Gala so long ago. Someone who the person she was currently in a relationship with - seriously Emma, you need to get your shit together about admitting what you feel, this is getting old, - trusted with his life. Someone she had come to really care about and let inside those walls of hers. "I am so sorry, August."

He nodded sadly, accepting her words graciously. "I was too. At least I still get along with the kid whenever I can." He gave then a noncommittal shrug, probably trying to make it like it hadn't hurt so much. She recognized the signs - she was a freaking professional at masking her real emotions when dealing with something that had affected her emotionally. She was a pro. Had been for years. "But see? We all have our baggage. No one is telling you this isn't going to be nerve-wracking or hard, because it probably will, but just know we all have your back. You don't have to do this alone."

Her eyes briefly scanned her surroundings, the cozy atmosphere, the even inexistent echo, the slight hum in the air from the machines plugged to the current. She then settled to inspect the men surrounding her, the honesty in their demeanor towards her, the promise in their words. She turned to Killian, unable to hide a smile when she did. "No wonder you stay here all the time. If they give you these pep-talks and organize random shows for you to brighten you up, I would never leave this place."

They all laughed good-naturedly, and the earlier tension seemed to slowly seep out from the room, as if somehow pixie dust had poured from above and left them feeling lighter than they had been in ages. "That's why you're welcome," Philip told her with a wink.

Victor slung his bass from his shoulder and, as he propped it against his chair and set on his feet again, he called over to her with a whistle. "You still owe us a video, blondie!"

She had nearly forgotten about that. Dammit. Who was she kidding, Killian wouldn't let her get away with it no matter what - he even liked to tease her about having her contract in that stupid napkin. She recalled something he had mentioned about it, and clang to it desperately. "I thought until the album wasn't ready there was no video?"

Victor and Killian shared a look and chortled once again. Ugh, those two, she just knew they had gossiped like old ladies about her fright over all this video drama thing. "Just making sure you hadn't forgotten, that's all!"

"How could I, this idiot keeps reminding me all the time!" she whimpered, pointing at Killian with her thumb. She shrieked loudly when he tried to bite it with a growl. God, he was like a freaking child. She followed them to the other room, where she had been enjoying her 'private concert' of sorts, and a question she'd come up with while she was watching them earlier came to mind, making her frown and ask in a wondering tone. "How did you even find out about my playlist?"

They all halted and looked back at her. "Really, Emma? Really?," August finally questioned, raising an eyebrow as the rest of them looked too smug for their own good.

It was Victor's shoulders shaking in silent giggling - God, how old was this guy, he was worse than Henry - that set that bulb inside her head, and she let out a loud groan at the ceiling. Of course. "Fucking Ruby."

"That's what Whale does, huh?"

"JONES," they all echoed like on autopilot, making Emma dissolve into a fit of giggles at the familiarity of the situation.

Killian, for his part, dropped on the couch, looking disgruntled and snapping his mouth shut in a frustrated huff before apparently thinking better of it and proceeded to heatedly argue with his friends. "Jesus Christ, I thought this was supposed to be a free country where I could express my opinion without being judged and berated, had I known this I'd have stayed back home..."

Emma exchanged a look with August as she set herself beside Killian on the armrest of the couch, her fingers playing with a strand of his hair distractedly while he kept fighting with his bandmates, and nestling against the back cushion, she let out a contended sigh. Looking around her and what all these people had managed to pull off just to make her feel better, it was easy to believe that everything was going to be okay.

Maybe it would.

---

Gripping Killian's hand tightly in hers, Emma stared ahead of her, her other hand going to shield her eyes from the glaring sun. "Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"I think it is a marvelous idea," he answered cheekily, his gaze fixed at the sight in front of them, a smile curling his lips.

"Really?" She really wished she could keep the anxiety out of her voice. Where had her super acting skills gone?

"Really."

"But..."

Ignoring whoever may be watching, - with the hordes of tourists, families, couples and whatnot, caps on heads, sunglasses and backpacks ready surrounding them as they ascended the bright-colored road leading towards the main entrance of the precinct, it was difficult for them to make out of there without being recognized, - he brought her to him, crushing her against his chest until they were face to face. He rubbed his nose against hers in the softest of brushes, making her smile in response against her will. He always did these days. "Emma. We're doing this," he finally declared, sea blue stare never wavering from hers.

Lips twitching, she heard her friends behind her matching everybody's enthusiasm, words blurred in the never ending cacophony of footsteps, ambient music coming from the speakers, children screeching excitedly and parents' concerned cries as to not lose any of their kids in the crowd. Arching an eyebrow as she inspected Mary Margaret opening her trademark map to show the rest of the group her idea of itinerary, she let out a loud sigh, already dreading the long day. "And did we really need to bring the whole band too along with my family?"

He looked horrified at the prospect, eyes widening in dread and pointing at them with a wave of his hand. "And deny them the chance to come here? Are you serious? I am not that cruel," he protested vehemently, and Emma had to fight the urge to tease him for talking about his friends as if he were the responsible one taking all of them out on a trip or something. He briefly scanned the group they'd assembled for the day, catching sight of the three infants who kept squealing, pointing to anything and everything in every direction around of them and unable to mask their enthusiasm at the day they had ahead of them. "And it's been forever since Gracie came, and now she's here with Henry and Bae." He turned his face towards her once more, leaning in so he could nip lightly on her earlobe playfully. "Come on. We're going to have so much fun."

She flashed a grin in the kids' direction, noticing that Bae and Henry seemed to have gotten along since they had been introduced an hour earlier when they had all met in the band's studio to hit the road and arrive at the same time to the park. It had been all Ruby and Mary Margaret's idea, - with Henry's help, of course, - who were proud members of the I-am-an-adult-who-spends-her-free-time-in-Disneyla nd-and-I-won't-apologize-for-it, and had pleaded with her to join them for a day in the resort. Emma knew they were doing it to keep her busy, and she was grateful for it, even if it was true that when they had mentioned it to Killian, David and the rest of the band, they had all jumped at the opportunity too quickly for her taste.

But well, who knew with these guys? They did act like they were five-year-olds on a sugar high, so she couldn't really know...

Fiddling nervously with the pendant hanging from her neck, she let the uncertainty show in her voice. The fact that she'd let him hear it was enough to make her marvel at how she had progressed since they had gotten together, but alas, in a moment like this where she needed him to understand she wasn't still 100% positive about this idea, she really didn't care about sounding nervous. "But... aren't we like a proper spectacle by itself, by being all of us in here? It's like we're waving a flag up on our heads with big letters saying 'LOOK AT US'"

Though she could begrudgingly admit to herself that, no matter what they did, her best friend would always end up being the center of attention no matter what she did. Every time they had come to Disneyland together, most of the characters stopped to talk to her and got her in some kind of shenanigans, prompting curious visitors to take out their cameras and record whatever it was she was doing.

"And that's the whole purpose of this, isn't it?"

...was it? Was this why he had been so open to the idea in the first place? Had he been talking to David, of all people, because they had agreed it would be a great plan? Was she overanalyzing anything before he even told her?

"Is it?," she finally managed to ask.

Killian nodded, not a trace of doubt in his expression, adjusting his sunglasses over his eyes. "Of course. This will make whatever blog or paper you want - and I bet Neal will see them. By being out, with your friends, your family, your son, you're stating you're not afraid of him."

"And you," she weakly said, turning her eyes downcast at her sudden addition. She hadn't even planned to say it, yet something had propelled her to do it. She had no control over herself whatsoever when it came to him, or so it appeared.

If he whined about her making a sap out of him, she wasn't far behind.

Ugh. At least the sex was great.

Who was she kidding, everything was great.

Oh God, she was a sap too.

"Me what?," he asked, thankfully interrupting her more than troubling thoughts concerning their relationship and level of sappiness, his frown burrowed in question.

She exhaled heavily, looking up at him under her lashes and biting her lip, feeling like a teenager sharing her feelings with her first crush. "I'm here with you, too. Not just my friends or my son."

She ran a hand along his forehead to swipe a sweaty strand of hair, and as it passed in front of his face, he took it in his and quickly kissed her palm, his eyes closing for a moment. "Well, there you are. Now, how about that smile?"

She scrunched up her nose, rolling her eyes. He had been bugging her nonstop about her smiling instead of brooding 'like a spoiled child' - she knew he said that just to piss her off, but sometimes he'd get a real punch just for being such a pain in the ass to her. Hell hath no fury like an enraged woman. "It's going to hurt to fake-smile for so long."

"Who said you would be faking?," he said, taking her chin in his fingers and tapping his lips with them softly, proving that she was, indeed, smiling.

Oh, the possibilities of that line. "To let it slide or not...," she commented, smirking evilly at him. See? He wasn't the only one allowed to innuendo everything that came out of his mouth.

For now, they could say that stakes were something like this:

Emma - 1, Killian - 8374273528452426. Not bad.

He guffawed, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to him, whirling them around so they could join the group, who were still examining Margaret's map and apparently waiting for Ruby, who had mysteriously run to the bathroom as soon as they had entered the enclosed area of the park. "Look at you, you're being me! I am so proud."

They approached their friends, David shaking his head at Emma over his fiancés head in amusement at the glee in the petite girl's eyes and frantic words explaining every tiny detail and tip they should follow so they could get to see the most of the things the park had to offer in a day. Before she could ask her what was their game plan, Ruby showed up behind her, poking her side playfully with a bag she was carrying. When Emma jumped in surprise - and about to call her really ugly names in a hushed voice so the little ones wouldn't hear her for tickling her, - she noticed the Disney decor of the bag.

Oh, no.

"Ruby, NO."

"YES!" Ruby was already laughing and taking out Mickey and Minnie ears from the bag, passing them around and fixing them over everybody's heads. God, she would never let it go, would she?

"No way," August declared, eyes going wide when he was passed his pair, examining them carefully.

Jefferson wasn't looking better, picking the ears up like they were going to bite him. "Aren't we a bit grown-up for these?"

Ruby - or Minnie Ruby - seized her hips with her hands, pouting at them. Did she really think that would work?

...okay, maybe it would. Probably. Sure. At least for a while, but then it'd happen the same as it always did: they'd all take them off, one by one, and they'd ask whoever had brought purses or bags to put them away for them until they left. Easy as pie.

"Nope. You should have chosen another name for your band if you knew you couldn't keep up and face the consequences!"

This was becoming beyond ridiculous at this point.

Albeit she had to admit she was having trouble not laughing at everybody's reactions: from the purest delight from Henry, Bae and Grace (and Mary Margaret, who snatched hers from Ruby's hands with a near growl and putting it over her pixie cut like it was some kind of tiara), to horrified glances exchanged between the musicians. Her brother, on the other hand, didn't even bat an eyelash, completely used to Ruby's tradition whenever they visited the park. So was Emma for that matter. She just reluctantly picked hers up when Ruby offered them to her with a flourish, and placed in over her hair with a sigh.

Henry simply ran to her, ears perched on his hazel locks and toothy grin permanently stuck on his face. He had come back home after she had calmed down, talked to Archie and settled her things in order a couple of days later the 'incident', and hadn't pried at what was it that had made her send him away to Regina's for the weekend, probably sensing she'd either lie to him about it or maybe afraid that it'd trigger another slight panic attack or something. Either way, she had been so glad to have him over at home and by her side where she could make sure he was under her watchful eye, they had spent every moment they could together since then, along with her family and Killian.

Until they had proposed they spent the day at Disneyland, that was.

"Mom! Where are we going first?," he asked, coming to a halt in front of her, Bae hot on his heels. She had been quite curious about Belle and Mr. Gold's son, when Killian had told her he'd asked Belle to let the boy join them. She had all but accepted right then just to see if he looked anything like his parents. She should have expected such a well-mannered, passionate and overall sweet kid, quite like his mother, though apparently he threw quite the tantrums when he didn't get his way - much like his father, as the band had assured her. They both looked up at her expectantly.

...why were they asking her? Did she look like a tour guide or what?

Brushing her hands on her jeans impatiently, she kneeled in front of them just as Grace joined her side, putting a hand on her leg and smiling at her. "Well, where do you want to go?"

"To visit the castle!" Aurora proposed, bouncing on her feet.

Bae and Henry had other ideas. "The Haunted Mansion!"

"Pirates of the Caribbean!" Of course, the whole Lost Boys company wanted to go to the ride which felt closer to their namesake, even though she guessed it'd make more sense if they went to the Peter Pan one...? Or was it just because of the pirate thing?

Again, she blamed Johnny Depp.

She all but let out a groan to the sky in defeat. Done. She was 300% done. "I was asking the kids, you know," she chastised them, trying really hard not to laugh at their self-conscious expressions. She just opted for shaking her head at them, arms crossed across her chest like she was disappointed in their behavior, and grabbed Grace's hand in hers, leading her towards the castle so they could start their journey.

It was clear from the moment they hit Main Street that they should follow Mary Margaret's instructions, as she had suggested earlier: she was a freaking connoisseur of the whole park, she visited it every couple of months or something, it was insane. Though it was proving to be quite useful, as she knew exactly what itinerary they should follow concerning the rides they were about to go to, avoiding big lines, using the FastPass system and overall knowing every tip and detail of the complex, including places and times to meet the characters or see the parades.

At one moment, Emma had to physically restrain Victor when they overheard a conversation between Henry and Grace, him whining about how sad it was there was no Alice in Wonderland's garden in this park in particular - they had visited the one in Paris once when he was younger, and he had loved it, - knowing how much she liked the movie and claiming how they would be able to 'ditch all of these in the labyrinth'. Emma had anticipated Victor's lewd comment and had to practically tackle him just so he'd let the two kids in peace.

"Young love in Disneyland, the perfect love story," as Aurora had dubbed it dreamily, sighing enamored with the idea.

They managed to not have to wait too much in most of the rides they went to, even though when they exited "It's A Small World" (after a huge row with the guys, who had complained loudly about how it was such a cheesy and stupid ride, but had gone in anyway and sang along the obnoxious song like the rest of them) they had realized Bae was missing, and Emma had had to go with Killian to check out the little office where the children who ended up lost in between the crowd from their parents or families were taken. Funnily enough, they called the central office "The Lost Boys' place" or something like that, and they found Bae sitting in a couch between two enormous stuffed Mickeys and watching The Lion King while he waited for them to pick them up.

She had been quite frazzled by the whole incident for a while, probably after the Neal thing trying to maybe take Henry from her just to get to her, so she had hugged Belle's son to her chest tightly, not daring to let go from his hand until they reunited with the rest of the group and the kid joined Henry and Grace, telling wonders about the little place in 'Neverland' he had gotten to visit under the impressed stares of his friends. Killian had had to grip her hand so she'd stop tugging on her necklace, and she hadn't let herself relax again until he had stared at her, completely puzzled, wondering aloud why in hell did he have glitter on his hands.

Her poor blue star suffered from her anxiety too much, and the glitter was starting to rub off on her fingers. He had it coming, just for giving it to her. It was not her fault. At all.

Of course they had to revisit Pirates of the Caribbean - and in fact, they decided they should have lunch in the restaurant too, just to keep the pirate-theme day or whatever crap the musicians and David fed them - and the Tea Cups that her friends and she adored since they had been there first years ago. She found out there before they rode it how some of the rides were completely off limits to some of them, when Mary Margaret, in all her expertise, had asked if there was some of them they wouldn't ride at all.

At that point, Grace, Killian, Victor, Philip and August had turned to Jefferson, with matching concerned and amused stares on their faces. The drummer had shuffled on his feet, feigning surprise. "Why are you all looking at me?"

"We heard you'd rather die than go on the Indiana Jones one?" Mary Margaret asked, patting his arm sympathetically. He sent a murderous glance towards his bandmates, all but grumbling threats under his breath at the snickering they all had going on at his expense.

"They shouldn't be laughing so much if we started talking about the incident in the Tea Cups, huh, Victor?"

"Don't you dare..."

Ruby had had to step in at the moment, the only one wearing her Minnie ears apart from Grace and Henry (even Bae had quit at that point; she was starting to like this kid, even if he had this habit of disappearing and nearly giving her a heart attack) to stop them from bickering further. "Alright, cowboys. We get it. Moving on."

Killian made sure to take her and Henry on a ride in the Peter Pan one at last, the flying vessel across the painted London sky marveling her and her son and sending a tingling warmth through her spine. They shared their seats with Henry between them, her son pointing at everything excitedly and exchanging details of the book with Killian, who was kind of an expert on Barrie's tale, of course, more than eager to correct him or share his enthusiasm with her, all but making her grin in the process just by looking at them interacting like they had known each other for ages rather than weeks.

Mary Margaret had expressed how difficult it was to try to meet most of the characters and hit every ride in one day (because, of course, she had tried; she was such a Disney groupie, for fuck's sake), but they were lucky enough to run into some of them while they waltzed around Princess Fantasy Faire and Pixie Hollow: Emma had had to have her picture taken when they met Rapunzel - and Ruby showed her her costume at their party, to her utmost embarrassment, - and Peter Pan made sure to try to teach all of them how to fly, despite grinning knowingly in the guys' direction stating how some of them surely knew the secret behind it because they were proper inhabitants of Neverland.

And of course, under Mary Margaret's orders, they all had to try Disneyland food's extraordinaire: the corn dog sold at the little red cart near the Plazza Inn. As they say on Yelp: The. Best. Corn. Dog. Ever.

Evening catching up on them, they decided to set off the day with the fireworks. They chose to stand between two light posts on Main Street, where they could see the castle projections and the hub pyrotechnics just fine. They all rolled up five minutes before show time and found a spot, instead of trying to get into the hub or in front of the castle, as it'd prove to be practically impossible - and probably not worth it, Mary Margaret's words.

They stood there, huddled together waiting and commenting on everything they had gone through the day, when a sudden flash illuminated the sky. Emma's back straightened, and startled, surprised, when a couple of arms embraced her from behind, letting her head lean over Killian's shoulder as the dazzling show commenced. Fountains, fireworks, projectors, lasers, fire and music blasting from the speakers, all combined for a spectacle she hadn't remembered she had enjoyed so much since the last time she had been there. Before it was over, though, Killian moved from her, awkwardly taking out his phone from his jacket's pocket and receding a bit to take it. She shrugged, going back to enjoy the last minutes of the fireworks, now leaving a smoky, shiny track in the sky, like a shooting star would do in its wake.

When it was done and they all were finished clapping enthusiastically, she saw Killian coming back, frowning. She came to stand before him, cupping his cheek in her hand. "Killian? Are you okay?"

"I-"

Henry interrupted them, coming to a halt in front of her, nearly breathless. "Mom. Uncle David's calling for you - it's Archie."

No way. No fucking way right now they'd have any news. Turning terrified eyes in Killian's direction, he had smoothed his features into a calm mask, nodding at her encouragingly and pushing her towards David, not letting go of her hand as they went to meet her brother.

Meeting her eyes, David let out a sigh of relief and held the phone to her, voice full of concern. "Here. He's been trying to contact you but you weren't picking up."

"My battery died, sorry," she quickly explained, snatching it from his hand and settling it against her ear in flash speed. "Hey, Archie."

"Emma. I've got news." Archie's voice sounded calm and collected, yet she couldn't be sure in this whole crowd of people surrounding her.

"What is it?"

"Your ex boyfriend - he contacted us. In fact, we managed to get a hold of him this morning, but he didn't look at all surprised about it, he wasn't trying to hide at all or anything. He even commented something about you being busy today - I'd bet he was tracking the web and found pictures of you guys on your trip out." Of course he would, just as Killian and the rest had predicted, she thought impressed. She focused on his voice once more, nails in her free hand leaving marks on her skin as she waited for him to continue, "Anyway, when one of my colleagues went to pay him a visit, he asked for a meeting with you to discuss his terms."

Emma felt herself take gulps of breath loudly, afraid of another panic attack in the horizon. "What terms? What do you mean?"

"He said he wanted to be a part of Henry's life as his father."

---

Hi y'all! Long time no see, huh?

Sorry for the long wait, but as I said last chapter, finals weeks + countless projects to turn in. No fun.

Anyway, here it is. Now - finally! - we know what was behind Emma's past with Henry's father and some of her issues when it came to him are now out. And creepy stuff going on.

Who doesn't love creepy packages, calls and overall people, huh?

As for Emma's playlist, I may have thought about making it more than I should. Sigh. I just love my baby so much. I'll give you a lin if it happens!

On a funny note, Bae getting lost = me when I was 8. In Disneyland Paris. Not so fun when everybody leaves you behind and go all "Home Alone" while getting on the Pirates of the Caribbean's boat... but hey, I got to stay in TLB's lair! :)

Until next one, hopefully back to the usual one weekly chapter! :) Love you all and thank you for all your kind reviews, messages, favorites, alerts, and keysmashing.

Special thank you for Cee for being my awesome beta (I heart you bb you and your cherries and Tudors feels) and Col and Hilary for being my spirit animals.

PS: This chapter belongs to Puddle of Mudd's "Radiate" and Bastille's "What Would You Do". That's it. That's the chapter. (they own meeee!)