Chapter 37:

The walk to the station went fairly quickly, but the entire time, Emma felt…loaded. It was the only word that seemed to fit just how heavy she felt. Beside her, Henry walked with a bounce in his step and a buzz in his aura, which only served to make Emma shaky. She loved seeing her son happy—she had come to learn that nothing could make her happier—but at the moment, it just made her more anxious and she had to focus to keep her hand steady in Henry's. He grinned to her often, and she smiled back, not wanting him to know the way her stomach was roiling.

It wasn't just the bag of fairy dust sitting in her pocket or the conversation they had just had with the Blue Fairy, it was the fact that it was all so true. Two months ago, Emma would have walked around with a bag of dust in her pocket and grinned at Henry, humoring him and herself as she pretended she had magic with her. Now, Emma would be stupid to push everything aside. And because she accepted it, things were different. The bag was heavy hidden in her pockets. She tried hard to ignore the way it slid across her waist as they trudged through the streets of Storybrooke. Real magic, she now knew, came with consequences. Always. It had already taken her son once, and as Emma squeezed Henry's hand in her own, she feared that it would do it again. The fairy dust sat in her pocket, waiting like a bomb, between herself and Henry.

But even heavier than the physical magic, was Emma's own body. She walked normally—if not a little faster thanks to Henry's excitement—but Emma felt like the insides of her body were moving in slow motion. She could feel the blood running through her arms, down her legs, pooling in her toes and shooting back up. She felt it pumping in her heart, in a way she had never felt before. Her blood buzzed with the magic. Her skin tingled with a lightness that would have made Emma feel amazing…if she wasn't so scared. But at the same time, she felt empowered. It was odd combination that had Emma's mind spinning, but as they reached the station she tried to suppress her worries; she didn't want Snow and James to think anything was wrong.

Henry let go of her hand and ran to the door. He pulled, but it didn't open.

"Guess they're not here yet," he said with a shrug.

Emma dug in her pocket and pulled out the keys. She pushed the door aside, letting Henry slip passed her and enter first. Her first step inside had her feeling instantly better. Even with the fallen pictures and turned over plants, Emma felt a sense of homecoming. She stood in the hallway for just a moment, letting the feeling reassure her. She smiled and tossed her keys with a small laugh at herself and followed Henry.

"Yikes," he said as she walked up beside him.

That might have been an understatement. Though the outside of town had been somewhat cleaned after the destruction of the purple cloud, the Sherriff's station had gotten no such luck. Emma hadn't been there in almost five days, and now she didn't know how she was supposed to get it back in order. Both outside desks were turned over, the contents of their drawers spilled like dropped food on the floor. Papers littered the floor, creating a carpet of white and black, information thrown into every corner of the room. Emma groan. She really hated paperwork.

"Let's get to work," she said, running a hand over Henry's head.

Henry helped her turn the desks back onto their legs and close the now, mostly empty drawers. Emma lifted the computers back onto the desks, surprised that neither monitor had cracked, while Henry got on his hands and knees to right the plants that had been knocked over. He scooped some of the dry dirt back into the pots. Emma focused then on the papers on the floor. She didn't even bother to look at what was on the pages and just placed one handful on top of the other creating a haphazard stack. They worked only for a couple of minutes before Henry fixed a chair in front of one of the desks and plopped into it.

"This is going to take days," he sighed.

"Yup," she agreed and pulled the bag of fairy dust from her pocket. It fell to the desktop with hardly a sound. Emma rested her hands on the desk and leaned against them, releasing a heavy sigh. She looked up to find a question burning in Henry's eyes, but before he got to ask it the door swung open and Snow and James walked in.

James bit his lip at the mess, but Snow barely seemed to notice it. Her eyes landed immediately on Emma, and she rushed forward. Before Emma had a second to react, she found herself in the arms of her mother. Her eyes widened and she stumbled against the sudden weight, but Snow held her tightly, keeping them both upright.

"You're all right," Snow sighed into Emma's shoulder.

Emma repositioned herself, recovering from her shock, and placed her hands lightly on Snow's back.

"We weren't even gone the full two hours," Emma huffed. Snow let go and shyly turned away.

"I know, I was just worried," she said, walking over to Henry and hugging him as well.

"We have a problem," James interjected, sitting slightly on the desk.

"What is it?" Emma asked, dreading the tone in his voice. They really did not need anymore problems.

"There's a stranger in Storybrooke," he said.

"Really!" said Henry from his chair. He was still tucked under Snow's chin, but he sat up quickly and leaned forward, asserting himself into the conversation. "But that's not possible."

"Apparently, it is," said Snow.

Emma ran a hand through her hair. This was really not something they had time to handle. She thought of everything else they were supposed to be doing. "Do you know who this person is? Name?"

"We didn't ask," Snow said. "He asked us for a place to stay and we pointed him to Granny's. He had a pretty fancy car, but that's all we know."

"Well," said Emma, crossing her arms and growing hopeful, "that doesn't mean he's not from Storybrooke."

"We've never seen him before, Emma," James argued.

"That doesn't mean anything." Emma shrugged her shoulders. "This is a pretty big town and no offense, but you were only out of your coma for a couple of months, and Mary Margaret wasn't exactly the sociable type. There's no way you could know everyone."

"Then why ask about a place to stay?" Snow asked.

"I'm sure a lot of people have been uprooted since everyone got their memories back. I mean, think about David. How many fake marriages did we really have?"

Snow nodded slowly, but James still looked like he wasn't convinced.

"I think we should find out more about him," he said.

"Fine," Emma groaned. "We'll just add that to the impossible list of things we have to do."

"Speaking of things to do," Henry said, starting to bounce again, "don't you want to know what the Blue Fairy said?"

Snow immediately snapped her head up and stared at Emma. "How did it go?"

Emma tilted her head nonchalantly. James had just earlier had a conversation with her about how dangerous magic was. She wondered how he'd feel about her purposefully using it now. She wondered how she could make the situation sound less than it was, but Emma didn't even have to bother. Henry was ready with the answer. He dove into the story of their conversation with the fairy, even including Emma's demand for an apology to her parents. Both of them looked away from Henry at that. In their faces, she saw surprise. James smiled at her with pride, which again just confused her. How could someone continually be proud of her for doing nothing? But as always, it was easier to look at her father than her mother. Snow's face was filled with so much love and hope it made Emma's mind go numb. But Emma didn't have to look away for long. As Henry told them about the fairy dust and Emma's newfound identity, their faces fell.

"She wants you to use the fairy dust?" asked James, eyeing the bag on the desk. "Shouldn't the fairies be doing this?"

"They don't have their wands," Henry answered.

Snow shook her head. Panic was already creeping into her eyes. "Emma, you don't have to do this."

"If it can save August, then I do," she said. She didn't think about whether or not she was even capable of doing it.

"Emma, magic is dangerous," said James. He stood up from the desk, looking extremely agitated.

"Trust me, I know," Emma assured him. "But—"

"No." He shook his head.

"James," Snow warned, but the damage was already done.

Emma knew better. He only had her best interest at heart, but all Emma heard was someone telling her what she could not do, and that never went well. Something in her mind had switched. She could feel the recklessness bubbling under her skin. All the voices of all the crappy guardians she had ever been forced to live with came back to her. This time is different, she tried, in vain, to tell herself.

"Emma," James sighed, and Emma wondered just how angry she looked. "I didn't mean—"

"We're going now," she said, snatching the bag of fairy dust off the desk. "Come on, Henry."

She waited only for her son to appear at her side before disappearing into the hallway and out the door.

By the time they got to the bed and breakfast, all of Emma's senseless anger had gone and been replaced by an extreme nervousness. Her parents stood right behind her, and she knew they would support her if that was what she really wanted, but her pride wouldn't let her turn around and look at them. She knew she was acting like a child—Henry acted more grown up than she—but she kept walking and pushed her way into the small house. Neither Red nor Granny were there to appear with knives this time, so Emma continued up the stairs. She was sure Henry could feel her shaking this time. He kept glancing up at her, though thankfully, he never indicated anything to Snow and James. They approached August's door. Granny and Red must have fixed it because it stood on its hinges firmly, the wood still splintered, but closed tightly. She could have stood outside the door forever. She knew once she went in, there was no turning back. She would have to use magically voluntarily and to do something she was not even sure was possible. If she went in and failed…if she failed in front of her parents…Emma shook her head and opened the door quickly. Without thinking, she strode into the room and went right up to August in the bed.

He was the same as he had been the night she broke the curse. Henry let go of her hand and stood off to the side. She smiled at him, hoping to ease some of his fear. Of course, he smiled back, but his hands twitched with nerves. Emma took the bag of fairy dust and slowly opened it. The string fell away and the bag opened to reveal a sparkling purple powder. She poked a finger in it expecting to feel the magic in it. It only felt like ash, nothing special except the clarity of it. Emma dug a small handful out and held it over August's body.

She paused. Flashes of everything she had done bombarded her, and she was forced to close her eyes. Snow was flying through the air, Henry and James were gone, she was killing a room full of men—Emma's eyes snapped open and she snatched her hand away. She was panting. A thin sheen of sweat was forming under her arms. She finally looked to Snow and James who stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and looking just as anxious as she felt. What if it didn't work? What if nothing happened? Worse, what if she blew something up instead?

"I'm sorry I got mad at you," she said breathlessly, but Snow and James were already shaking their heads.

"You can do this, Emma."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," they spoke at the same time.

"Maybe you should all go…" she said, nodding her head towards the door. Henry protested immediately.

"We're not going anywhere," Snow said adamantly. She nodded to the puppet lying in the bed. "Go ahead."

With a deep breath, Emma held her hand over the body again. She hesitated only a second before letting the powder fall from her hand. It felt like sand running through her fingers and sprinkled over August like glitter. Everyone held their breaths. Emma stared so hard at the dull blue wooden eyes, that she was convinced she saw something stir in them. But really, nothing happened. After a few seconds, Emma let out a frustrated sigh.

She sat down slowly at August's feet and stared. She really couldn't do it. August lay as still as ever, the fairy dust settling into his clothes like worthless dust. Worthless. All that effort, and Emma had done nothing more than waste an important tool.

"Emma," Snow said behind her.

Emma shivered. And here came the disappointment, just like every other time. It had been years since Emma had ever wanted to impress anyone. She never cared what anyone thought, or what they said about her. To her, other people were a waste of her time, and so was caring. But Storybrooke had changed so much of her, she was sure she wouldn't have even recognized herself if she went back just a year. Here, she had a son and parents and friends and more than anything she had wanted in her entire life—more than ever wanting to find her parents—she wanted to protect them. She wanted to be the savior they needed her to be. But here she had a friend, dead because of her, and she couldn't bring him back. Maybe bringing Henry back had just been a coincidence. Or maybe that was all Emma Swan was good for. She was intended to break the curse, and she had done that. She tried to tell herself she was being ridiculous, taking things to heart too much, but all she could think was that maybe her magic was just like all magic, destructive and evil.

"I can't do it," Emma whispered.

"I refuse to believe that," said James. Emma closed her eyes. There was his pride again. She wished he would stop doing that; it was like he was setting himself up for disappointment.

"What you believe doesn't matter," she said. "I can't do it. I can't save him."

"Maybe you could try again," Snow suggested quietly, but Emma shook her head.

"I can't. I can't do any of this."

"Emma—"

"I can't save him!" She wheeled around and faced her parents, hating every single tear in her eye, hating them for all their love, and hating herself for not being good enough. "What if I can't do anything? What if my magic is evil? What if I just end up hurting you!"

"That's enough!" Snow snapped. Her eyes flashed with anger and she walked around the foot of the bed and grabbed Emma by the arms. Emma jumped as Snow lifted her to her feet. She shook under the blaze in Snow's eyes.

"You are my daughter. I will not stand here and listen to you doubt yourself when I know all the good you can do. You are not evil. You are not bad. And you would never hurt us. Don't you ever suggest that again. I will never let anyone hurt my child, especially not you."

Emma stared at the woman before her, completely stunned. She was not Snow White, not the Queen that had been walking around Storybrooke for days now. She was Mary Margaret, but not Emma's Mary Margaret, not her meek best friend. Emma stood in the firm grip of the Mary Margaret who kicked a crazy Jefferson out of a second story window, who demanded Emma get out of her presence after failing her yet again. She was the woman who had reprimanded Emma harshly for leaving and kidnapping her son. She was the first woman who had ever asked Emma "what the hell is wrong with you?" and gotten Emma to listen. She was Emma's mother, and she was terrifying.

"I'm sorry," Emma breathed. Inside, Emma's heart swelled. She could never again doubt that she was this woman's daughter. There was no one else in the world who could calm Emma the way Mary Margaret could, no one who believed in her like Snow White, and no one who made her a better person like the woman she stood in front of now. Every time this woman appeared it was like magic happened; Emma listened and things changed. She had never needed someone to tell her to "shut the hell up" more in her life. As her brain cleared and her tears dried, Emma took a deep breath, feeling all her anxiety and paranoia melt away.

"Try again," her mother said more calmly, but the demand still rested just below the surface.

Emma glanced down at the bag in her hand. There was hardly a handful of the dust left, but it would have to do, because Emma knew her mother would not settle for less. She had no choice but to do what she was told, and so, she'd have to try again.

Emma glanced once at James and Henry, who both nodded and moved closer. She poured the remaining fairy dust into her palm and tightened her hand into a ball. She closed her eyes and focused, not on the dust in her hand, but on the hand resting lightly on her back. Emma focused everything on the pressure of her mother's hand until her spine tingled. Unconsciously, Emma pressed her free hand on her stomach and imagined she was reaching through her body. Her blood hummed as she imagined touching hands with the woman beside her. In her mind, Emma's hand was small and her fingers wiggled involuntarily, until a bigger hand, soft in unimaginable ways, took hers and steadied her. She smiled at the warmth and her baby hand curled around her mother's long finger.

As the dust in her hand grew hot, Emma knew that she loved her mother. And more wonderful than that, was that her mother loved her in return. She wondered if this could be True Love too, because it felt like a magic so pure the title could hardly contain all the good in it. Emma opened her palm and her eyes and stared at the burning fairy dust. The dust glowed like moonlight and burned into her skin. Somehow knowing what to do, Emma leaned forward and blew on the powder. It cooled instantly and fluttered out of her hand. She watched it drift like snow and settle onto the wooden puppet. The sprinkles seemed to melt against the wood and disappear.

On her back, the hand tensed nervously. Emma knew, before anything happened, that it had worked. After a moment, the puppet's eyes blinked. The three around her gasped. Emma smiled and chuckled to herself. The eyes blinked several times before they snapped open. Like water over sand, the life in them spread across the face and August exhaled the breath he had been holding for days.

"Emma, you did it!" Henry screamed. He rushed to the bed and touched August's face, marveling at how the skin moved against his fingers.

Next to her, Snow placed her head on Emma's shoulder and took her hand, sighing in relief. Emma squeezed it and looked over at James who was staring at her in wonder.

"Emma," August croaked. "You saved me."

"Sorry it took me so long," she said with a sheepish grin.

"Well," he groaned, stretching his neck as his arms turned back into flesh, "you were never a timely person."

"Thanks," Emma laughed.

"August," Henry said, climbing onto the bed. "Emma broke the curse!"

August was moving his arms now, his chest rising healthily as he took deep breaths. "I know. Good job completing the mission, Henry."

Henry grinned. Emma leaned forward and wrapped him in her arms, letting the happiness of the moment fill her. She was sure it would last forever. Snow stepped forward next and placed a hand on August's forehead.

"Pinocchio," she said thickly. Emma hadn't noticed that Snow had started crying. "You're so grown up."

"Snow White," he nodded.

Emma pulled Henry off the bed as August bent his knees. He tried to sit up, with an extreme amount of grunting, but Emma pushed him back down.

"My magic's not that good," she said. "Give it some time. Take it easy."

"I have to find my father," he said. Emma squeezed his shoulder at the sad look in his eyes. She suddenly wondered how hard it must have been to look at Gepetto and not be recognized. At least neither Emma nor her parents remembered each other. August had spent weeks in Storybrooke walking passed his father everyday. He seemed to understand her thoughts and looked away. James came up behind Snow and smiled down on him.

"We'll find your father for you," he told August. "He'll come. He's been looking for you."

"Thank you," August said quietly. Snow and James nodded and then backed away, giving him space.

"We can talk later. We'll let you humanize in peace," Emma said. She placed a hand on Henry's shoulder to steer him out when August called her back.

"Really, Emma," he said softly. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for everything."

"Me too," she nodded. "I'm sorry too."

She left him with a smile and ushered her family out of the room. Henry and James hurried out, Henry bounding down the stairs talking animatedly now that August's wooden form couldn't scare him. Emma laughed and closed August's door quietly. When she turned to follow her family, she had to stop. Snow was standing just behind her, her lips turned up in a small grin and her eyes still wet from crying.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she said too sadly.

"Don't be," Emma told her. She took her mother's hand and squeezed it. Emma wished she could have shown Snow the imaged she'd seen. She wondered if she had created it herself or if she had been remembering the one time her mother had held her as a baby. It wasn't so far off that she had taken her mother's hand then, was it?

"I'm really proud of you, Emma."

The words were like honey. Emma didn't want to shy away from them or avert her eyes. She locked her own with Snow's bright green eyes and smiled. "I am too," she said, and she meant it.

Snow laughed and stepped forward. It was the most natural thing in the world, the way she slid into her mother's arms. Emma closed her eyes and smiled into her best friend's shoulder wondering how she had ever lived her life hating this person. A door opened in a hall and Emma turned to tell August to lie back down, but when she disengaged herself from her mother she found that it was not August's door that had opened, but the one she had stayed in when she first got to Storybrooke.

She froze instantly and felt the world come to a complete standstill. The man in the doorframe froze too. In the one second it had taken for Emma to recognize him, she was propelled years into the past. She was young Emma Swan again, sitting in the passenger seat of her beat-up yellow bug, smiling excitedly as she watched a figure retreat into the blackness of the night.

"Emma?" someone said, but Emma couldn't answer. She couldn't even breathe.

Using magic had not taken anything from her this time. Instead, it had brought her the last person she ever wanted to see.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This one was really hard for me, like my writing was off or something. I had to write it twice and still...

Anyway, yes the stranger is Neal. Sorry for all you who don't like him, though if it makes you feel any better, I'm not a fan of what the writer's did with his character. I'm convinced he's Bae (we'll find out tonight) and as such thought it would have been much more interesting if he turned out to be a terrible guy. The villains on our show have turned for less. I really thought he was conning Emma all through Tallahassee and was really disappointed when they made him good. I would have even like "bad guy turned good by someone he loves."

Also, just like Emma and her parents had a tough reunion, I plan one for Emma and Neal. I think the show sometimes skims over the character's reactions sometimes.

Thanks for reading! Please review, it'll make me really happy!