Chapter 35

Despite Killian's apparent willingness to listen, she couldn't bring herself to start talking about Neal. Still, the small talk they exchanged was comforting, each word from Killian calming her down. Distracting her.

However, the conversation seemed more difficult than any they'd shared before. Killian was quiet, didn't have much to say, and there was only so long they could talk about the weather in New York compared to the weather he could see out of his hospital window.

But it was Killian, and he'd only crossed the town line the day before, so Emma was more than willing to wait for things to start getting easier.

That was until she mentioned Henry. Killian was quiet for just a bit longer than usual, and then, when he finally spoke, Emma realised that the Killian she could have spoken to about Neal, about anything, had been lost too.

"Who's Henry?"

Emma faltered. There were too many things to explain, things that Killian had known before, before she could even start on why she'd needed to talk. "Well, he's my son."

"You have a son?"

"Sorry. I can't… I can't do this now." She stammered. In that moment, asking those questions, he wasn't her Killian anymore. She didn't want to tell him about Neal, didn't want to burden him with problems he didn't care about. "I shouldn't have called you. But thanks for listening, It helped."

"Until it didn't."

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't deny that. So Emma just muttered a quiet goodbye and hung up. She took a moment to try and just stop thinking, her phone cradled in her hand and her eyes fixed on the sky.

If she couldn't speak with Killian, she wanted to speak to someone. Her relationship with Mary-Margaret had been slightly strained since the curse had broken, although Emma's trip to the Enchanted Forest had meant that they had only had a few days to adjust to the changes.

But Mary-Margaret had been her closest friend she'd ever had, and after running into Neal, Emma hoped that was still true.

"You arrived safely?" Mary-Margaret asked the moment she picked up the phone. "Where are you? David mentioned something about Boston?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. We're all safe." Emma muttered, having never been asked that question before. "We got a flight from Boston and we're in New York now. And I just found Rumplestiltskin's son."

"That was fast." Mary-Margaret exclaimed. "Does that mean you'll be back-"

"It's him." She couldn't let Mary-Margaret finish. Emma had spent the whole discussion with Killian preparing herself to talk about Neal, and she didn't want to talk about Storybrooke or about New York. She just wanted to tell someone that she'd found Neal, and she wanted to be told what to do.

"Who?"

"Baelfire. Or, well, I know him as Neal." Emma mumbled. "He's Henry's father."

"Henry's father?" There had been a long pause before Mary-Margaret spoke, and maybe Emma would have been able to guess what she was thinking before, but these days, she had no idea. "Oh, Emma. I don't know what to say."

"I'd like it if you could say something."

"Okay." Mary-Margaret stated. "Look, Emma, don't feel like you need to rush back to Storybrooke. If you want to stay a few more days and talk things over, then-"

"No." Emma interrupted, horrified by the suggestion. "That's the last thing I want."

"David and I can take care of Storybrooke." Mary-Margaret was trying to reassure her, but all her words did was make Emma sigh in frustration and run a hand through her hair. "I know you're worried about Cora and about Hook, but you don't need to make a hasty decision."

"It's not a hasty decision." Emma snapped. "I promised Killian I'd visit him every day, and I'm going to start doing that as soon as I can."

"Don't you want the chance to be a family?"

"No. Not with Neal." It wasn't an answer she needed to think about. "Neal and I, well, we aren't you and David. I guess I loved him once, but not anymore. I could never be anything with Neal. Not after what he did."

Another silence, and Emma wondered if Mary-Margaret was trying to decide whether or not to ask what exactly Neal had done. Luckily, she seemed to decide against that line of questioning. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise-"

"You didn't understand." Emma corrected quietly. "It's fine."

"How are you?"

"Right now?" Emma couldn't stop the bitter laugh. Did Mary-Margaret even need to ask? Running into Neal would never have been an enjoyable occasion, but add in the fact that her boyfriend was in hospital and her son was being watched by Rumplestiltskin, and Emma was surprised she hadn't broken something, or someone, by now. "I think I'm just trying to get my head around the fact that apparently Henry is related to Rumplestiltskin. When Killian gets his memory back, I can't see that going down well."

She heard another sympathetic noise on the other end of the phone, but even as she'd said it, she'd known that Killian wouldn't care. She'd noticed the fondness in his voice the one time he'd mentioned Milah's son, Rumplestiltskin's son, and she knew that Henry's lineage wouldn't be something Killian would hold against him.

It struck her then, that Milah's son was Neal, and she groaned, her head cradled in her hands. Killian had met Milah centuries earlier, the same with her son, and that meant Neal wasn't just another storybook character, like August or her parents, but one who had lived for longer than she could imagine.

She'd always known he was older, but centuries older was too much to deal with. Neal had been something in her past, a mistake finally put behind her and nothing to do with the new life Henry had pulled her into. Except now that wasn't true.

"Trust me, Mary-Margaret," Emma finally continued. "I have as many as questions as you do. But it doesn't matter right now. I don't know what to do."

"Please tell me you're not calling to ask me to tell you to keep it from Henry."

Emma hadn't even considered telling Henry the truth. She'd walked away from Neal and he'd said if she misled his father, she'd never have to see him again. It was better for Henry to believe his father had been a good man instead of him knowing that his father was a man who just kept running away.

"Henry thinks his father is dead." Emma reminded Mary-Margaret. "I told him that for a reason. I want to protect him."

"No matter what this man did, Henry has a right to know who his father is." Mary-Margaret insisted. "The truth about your parents… Emma, you of all people should know how important that is."

"It's different." Emma protested. "Henry has parents. He has me, and as much as I wish he didn't, he has Regina. He doesn't need to know Neal. I don't want him to get hurt."

"Are you sure this is about protecting Henry?" Emma knew that, if she were back in Storybrooke, in the loft, Mary-Margaret would be leaning towards her, hot cocoa cradled in her hands and one eyebrow raised. "And not yourself?"

Emma wished she thought otherwise, but, god, Mary-Margaret could be annoying. She just wasn't able to understand Emma's situation, not when the only man she had fallen in love with had been the literal Prince Charming. "Whatever it is, it's up to me." Emma stated firmly. "If I'm going to tell him, it's not going be here and now and only because I happened to run into Neal. And I'm not telling Neal anything either. I'm not going to let him just waltz in and become a part of Henry's life."

"The way you did?"

Emma inhaled sharply, not liking the judgement in Mary-Margaret's voice. "It's different. Henry came to me. And even then, the only reason I gave Henry up was for his own good, because I couldn't give him the life he deserved. Neal left me just because he was scared, and look, suddenly being Henry's mom was one of the scariest things I've ever had to do. I can't have Henry think he has a father only for him to run away."

"Emma-"

"David would never run. He would never leave." Emma said finally. "But that's not the same for everyone. You need to understand that."

After finishing her phone call with Mary-Margaret, Emma had hurried back towards Neal's apartment building, to Henry and Rumplestiltskin. She hadn't really planned what she'd tell the Dark One, but she'd decided that no matter what Rumplestiltskin said in response, she was heading back to Storybrooke that very afternoon.

She was relieved to see them right where she'd left them, sat on the curb outside the building, although Henry had somehow got his hands on a hot dog during the time she'd spent chasing after Neal.

"Hey." She said in greeting, grinning down at her son. "How's the hot dog?"

"Did you find him?" Rumplestiltskin didn't give Henry an opportunity to answer Emma's question. She'd hoped for a bit more time before the Dark One demanded answers, but she should have known better. "Well?"

"Sorry." Emma said shortly. "Your son… he got away."

Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes at her, but Emma determinedly met his gaze until he appeared to believe her. He shook his head frantically and pushed her aside so he could rush over to the building entrance, hitting every single button on the intercom before Emma could process what he was doing.

"Hey, Rumplestiltskin!" she called, offering Henry a hand up before hurrying over to the agitated man. "Wait! What are you doing?"

The intercom buzzed and the gate into the apartments swung open. Emma gripped Rumplestiltskin's arm to stop him from going through. "I'm finding my son." He hissed, wrenching his arm away from her. "I've waited too long to let your failure stop me. He lives here, so he'll be back. And I'll be waiting."

"Come on!" Emma protested, following him as he moved surprisingly quickly through the building. "Do you really think breaking into your son's apartment is going to make the best impression? It's hardly a good reunion!"

He wasn't listening, and when he bent down to pick the lock, Emma realised it was useless to protest. She muttered one last, weak objection, that he couldn't just pick the lock, but Rumplestiltskin only laughed.

"Actually, that's something I'm quite adept at." Rumplestiltskin spat. "Besides, I thought finding people is what you do. There may be information in here, about who he is, what he does, who he loves. We know that, we can find him. You can find him."

"There are things called laws." She pointed out, spinning around to face Henry when he offered to keep watch. "No, Henry! Look, back in the Enchanted Forest, I'm sure you managed to use your magic to get away with every horrendous and evil thing you did, but not here. I'm not letting you pull Henry and me into this."

"If I get arrested, then my son will have to testify against me and we will be reunited."

Emma scoffed. Neal had proven long ago that he had no issues with sending someone he claimed to love to jail, and she didn't see Rumplestiltskin's plan ending well for anyone. She crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head in disbelief when Rumplestiltskin managed to open the door and then took a small step into the apartment.

She had wanted to leave New York anyway, but she definitely wasn't sticking around now that Rumplestiltskin seemed intent to drag both her and Henry into being accomplices to his crimes.

Henry pushed past her to follow Rumplestiltskin into the room, and Emma watched him start to explore the room, glancing around and looking like he was actually helping Rumplestiltskin search for clues about Baelfire.

Emma only took a few steps inside before closing the door behind her, her gaze drawn to the yellow dreamcatcher that hung in front of the window.

It was the last thing she had expected to see, and she really didn't know what to think about it. It was hard to reconcile the idea that he'd cared enough to keep something so sentimental with the things he'd admitted to her less than an hour before.

"Well, getting arrested sounds like a great plan." Emma said sarcastically. "I guess Henry and I will be going then. Sorry to disappoint you, but I've spent long enough in prison already and I'd rather not join you there."

"Going?" Rumplestiltskin spat, turning to face her. "You're not going anywhere. The deal was that you got Bae to talk to me."

"I don't remember us going into specifics." Emma replied. "So I'm getting out of here."

Rumplestiltskin stared at her for a few seconds, his eyes narrowed, and as much as Emma wanted to remain unaffected, she couldn't help but shift nervously. "You talked to him." Rumplestiltskin said eventually, dangerously. "That's why you want to leave. What did he say?"

"He didn't say anything."

"But you talked to him?"

"No." Emma insisted. "You're just reading into things, because you want me to have spoken to him. You want to believe he didn't just get away. You want to blame me. But I didn't-"

"Don't lie!" Rumplestiltskin roared, slamming his cane down against the wooden floor. "Tell me what happened or I'll make you tell me."

Emma was glad Henry had wandered into another room, because she didn't want him to see the fury clear in Rumplestiltskin's expression. "You'll make me? You don't have magic here. What are you going to do?"

"I don't need magic." He hissed, crossing the distance between them so he was closer than Emma ever would have wanted, and even though Emma knew she could stop him if he tried anything, she still shrank away. "If I remember correctly, your precious boyfriend is in the hospital right now, with no memory of who you are and who I am. If you break this deal, then the second we return to Storybrooke, I'll be his next visitor. Trust me, it will be so easy to kill him when he doesn't remember who I am."

The Dark One's threats might have been enough to persuade Emma to accompany him to New York, but she wasn't going to keep letting him control her with them.

Although that wasn't what she was thinking. He'd mentioned Killian's amnesia, and although it wasn't a surprise that the town had spoken about Killian's admittance to the hospital, how would Rumplestiltskin have known exactly what was wrong?

"How do you know that?" she asked shakily, her fists clenched at her side. "How do you know he doesn't remember?"

Rumplestiltskin blinked at her, and then she watched him plaster a confused look across his face. "Why wouldn't I know that?"

"It isn't exactly common knowledge."

"Belle told me." Rumplestiltskin said easily. "She was distraught when she found out."

Emma shook her head, not even needing to trust the feeling she had that he was lying, because to her it was so clear. Lacey had been at the loft since Killian's accident, and had still been there when she left. She couldn't have told Rumplestiltskin, not unless she'd called him since. And Emma didn't think she would have, not to talk about Killian.

And then it hit her. She knew exactly why Rumplestiltskin knew. She'd assumed it had been Cora who had pushed Killian across the town line, after everything that had happened in the Enchanted Forest, but she should have known. Cora wouldn't have let Killian live, and Rumplestiltskin would do anything but kill him. Not after what he'd promised Belle.

"It was you." She snarled. "You pushed him."

"Now, now, Miss Swan." Rumplestiltskin said smoothly, an infuriatingly smug smirk spreading across his lips. "Don't do something you'll regret."

"Oh, I won't regret it."

The smugness fell away, and Emma enjoyed the brief alarm that flashed in his eyes before she raised her fist and punched him. He staggered backwards, dropping his cane when he reached up to clutch at his nose.

He drew his hand away and glanced down at it, and Emma couldn't help the pleased smile that crossed her face when she saw he was bleeding. That just seemed to make Rumplestiltskin angrier, and he straightened up and rushed towards her.

Emma stepped aside and shoved him away from her, into the wall, sagging in relief when he didn't get back up. He glared up at her but didn't fight, probably aware that here, without magic, he couldn't win. "You're pathetic." Emma yelled. "I don't blame your son for wanting to stay away. So you can stay here and wait for him to come and tell you himself, but I'm leaving."

She called for Henry, unable to meet her son's eyes when he looked from her to Rumplestiltskin. He had to have heard everything, but she was pretty certain that punching a crippled man wasn't the typical actions of one of Henry's fairytale heroes.

"Are we going back home?" Henry asked quietly. "To Killian?"

"Yeah, kid." Emma answered. "Sorry you couldn't see any of New York."

Henry shrugged, then scowled over at Rumplestiltskin before following Emma towards the apartment door.

"Are you okay, Mom?" Henry asked the question just as Emma opened the door, and she could only gape in horror when she saw Neal on the other side. Neal was looking from Emma to Henry in surprise, and when he opened his mouth to speak, Emma knew just what he was going to say and she couldn't let him.

"Not now." She snapped. "Look, Neal, if you want to ask the question that I know you want to ask, come to Storybrooke. I'm not doing it now and I'm not doing it here."

Then Emma put her arm around Henry's shoulder and the two of them walked away.

Emma had hoped to get back to the hotel, pick up their suitcases and go straight to the airport, but she'd forgotten that Henry had unpacked his few clothes into various drawers as though they were on an actual vacation and were staying for more a few days.

She knew she had to tell the truth about Neal, especially if Neal actually did what she'd told him and showed up in Storybrooke expecting answers. Henry had to know, but he was so happy, even with only a couple of hours in New York, and she didn't want to ruin it. She didn't know what to do, how to tell him, but she had to.

She perched on the edge of one of the twin beds, tapping her fingers anxiously against her knee as she waited for Henry to finish packing, listening and occasionally nodding along with Henry's ramblings. He was telling her about how his hot dog had been better than the ones Granny made, but that he probably shouldn't mention that to her, but Emma was hardly listening.

"Henry?" She asked eventually, once his bag was zipped up and he seemed to run out of words. "Can you sit?"

Henry frowned slightly, but then he nodded and joined her, bouncing slightly on the mattress once he was sat down. "What is it?"

"I need to tell you something."

"What?"

Emma took a deep breath, her hands clenched into fists, and then she finally turned to face her son. "Do you remember what I told you about your father?"

"Yeah."

"It wasn't all true."

"Which parts?" She couldn't meet his eyes. She didn't want to see Henry's confusion, his disappointment, not after he'd looked so happy the whole day. "Which parts weren't true?"

"Everything." Emma answered quietly, running a hand down her face when Henry jumped to his feet and stood opposite her, arms folded and an angry scowl on his face. "It was all made up."

"Why?" Henry stammered, and Emma glanced up briefly to see his lip was trembling and he was clutching at his jumper. "What was wrong with the truth?"

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I should have told you."

"Then who is my dad?" Henry asked shakily. "What was he like?"

Emma didn't want to tell him, but she'd already ripped away the comforting lie she'd given him weeks before and he deserved the truth. "Well… I knew him as Neal. I was sixteen and just out of foster care when we met. We… hung around with each other for a while. He was the first person in a very long time who I thought cared about me, and I loved him for that."

"So you did love him?"

"I thought I did." She said honestly. "I found out that he'd stolen some very expensive watches from a jewellery shop he used to work at. Neal wanted to run. To leave me behind and go to Canada, but I didn't want to lose him. I offered to go and fetch the watches from where he'd stashed them so that we could sell them and use the money to... I don't know, get new identities and start a new life in Tallahassee. I was young."

"What happened?"

"I got the watches and I gave them to him." She said slowly, able to picture that night as though it happened yesterday when she closed her eyes. "We promised… I promised to meet him in a parking lot after he'd sold them. I waited, and I waited, and he never came. But the police did. They said they'd been tipped off and…"

"And you went to jail." Henry finished, his voice small. "Because of my dad."

"Yeah. It's not exactly the storybook romance I'm sure you would have preferred." Emma mumbled, glancing up in surprise when she felt Henry sit back by her side and lean against her shoulder. "If it helps, I don't know if things would have worked out like that if we'd known about you. I was already in prison by the time I found out you were on the way."

"You think he would have stayed?"

After what Neal had said that day, Emma couldn't answer so she just shrugged. "I am sorry, Henry. I should have told you before. I knew that as soon as I told you, but I wanted to give you something you could be happy about. That, and I was selfish. It's not a good excuse, kid, but I really didn't want to talk about it. It hurt. Back then, it still hurt. I still hurt."

He looked upset, but Emma found some comfort in the fact that he was still sat at her side. "You should have told me." He muttered. "My mom always lied to me. About the curse and about Storybrooke. I didn't think you would. You weren't supposed to lie. You were supposed to be a hero."

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you telling me?" Henry asked. "Why now?"

"Because I saw Neal today." She replied. "So did you."

Henry's eyes widened, and when she looked at him, he was gaping at her. "That man." He stated disbelievingly. "Baelfire? My dad is Baelfire?"

"Apparently." Emma confirmed with a bitter laugh. "Not that I knew that."

"You didn't know? He lied too?" Henry seemed miserable, and Emma wished she could have given him a better end to their very short, unplanned trip, but she should have gotten used to things going badly. "Emma? Would you have told me if you hadn't seen him?"

It was painful to hear him use her name instead of 'mom', even though he had only used that title since her return from the Enchanted Forest. She hoped his anger and disappointment wouldn't last for too long, but she couldn't blame him if they did. Especially not after she answered his question.

"I don't know." It was honest, even if it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. But she wasn't going to lie again. "Will you be angry if I say that? If you'd asked again, then maybe. Otherwise, I don't think I'd have brought it up."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and in an attempt to distract herself from the silence of the room, Emma started to fidget, moving the hotel key back and forth along the keyring until Henry spoke again.

"Why doesn't it hurt anymore?" He sounded curious now, instead of sad, and Emma may have lied, but Henry had always been the type to adjust quickly. He'd done that with the curse, and he was doing so now, and every time Emma didn't think she could love him anymore, he proved her wrong.

It wasn't an easy question to answer, so Emma sighed and stared up at the dirty cream ceiling. "Look, Henry…" She didn't want to tell him that she'd spent years still thinking about Neal, wanting to know why he'd left her. "For a long time, I wanted to know if it was my fault he left. Now I know it wasn't."

She smiled at Henry then, and he actually smiled back. "Is it because of Killian? Because you've found your prince?"

And Henry hadn't changed, was still grinning at her as he mentioned her prince, and everything was going to be okay. She laughed, both in relief and in amusement, reaching out to ruffle Henry's hair. He grumbled slightly, but didn't dodge away.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah." Henry replied quietly. "But what do I do if he does come to Storybrooke? Like you told him to?"

"Whatever you want to do. He's still your father." Emma told him, slightly begrudgingly. "Would you like to meet him? If you had the chance?"

Henry shrugged. "If he does come, do you think it will be because of Rumplestiltskin? Or because of me?"

"You." Emma doubted Neal would be following his father back to Storybrooke if there was nothing else there for him. If he did show up in Storybrooke, she figured it would be because of the unanswered questions she had presented him with as she and Henry abandoned his father in the apartment.

"Well, if he wants to talk to me, then I want to talk to him." Henry said with a decisive nod. "If he doesn't come, then I don't care."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to go back home?"

Henry looked longingly over at the creased brochures left on the bedside table, and Emma hated that things were so complicated, that she couldn't give him a proper vacation, but she already knew what Henry was going to say.

"No." He answered truthfully. "But we should. Because Rumplestiltskin hurt Killian and you love him, so we should be with him."

Emma wasn't sure about the word 'love'. Her breath quickened and her heart raced at the thought of it, of loving Killian, but she didn't know if that was what she felt. But she wasn't going to get into semantics when everything else Henry was saying was right. So she nodded, and as she watched him pick up his brochures and stuff them into his jeans pocket, all she could think was that it had gone far better than she had expected.

They'd managed to get back to Storybrooke within hours, arriving back the same day they had left, although the journey back had been very long, expensive and difficult. Rumplestiltskin had arranged transportation to New York, and without her own car waiting at the airport, getting anywhere close to Storybrooke had been hard.

Luckily, Henry knew which coach would get them near to Storybrooke, and he'd rested his head on her shoulder and slept as they drove through the night. After that, they had to walk back to the town line, and although, by that time, Emma just wanted a rest, Henry was wide awake once he realised they'd be trekking through the woods.

David had met them on the other side of the painted line, shuffled them into his truck and by the time they walked into the loft, it was nearing midnight. Mary-Margaret had greeted them with a bowl of steaming tomato soup and a grilled cheese, and in that moment, Emma couldn't understand why she'd ever allowed Rumplestiltskin to persuade her to leave.

After Henry yawned around a mouthful of food, they all retreated to bed. Henry was asleep the instant his head hit the pillow, but despite the bone-wearying tiredness that came with travelling to New York and back, as well as from seeing Neal and punching Rumplestiltskin, Emma couldn't sleep.

Henry's words had weighed on her since they left New York. Not about Neal, although that topic had been brought up more than once during the trip back, but just how simple he'd made things seem. That she loved Killian, so she should be with him.

At the time, only hours before, the word had been too much. Love. But she'd thought about it since, spent too much time thinking about it as Henry snored against her shoulder, and of course she loved him. She'd claimed to love Neal once, before the word meant pain and being left alone, before she stopped thinking it was something she could have, and what she felt for Killian was more powerful than anything she remembered feeling for him.

So, yes, she loved Killian.

She just didn't know if she was in love with him, the way Henry meant whenever he called Killian her prince. How could she know that? She'd never been in love before. Not the way David and Mary-Margaret were in love. Not the way it was in stories.

But she did love him.

Killian didn't love her. He didn't even know her. And maybe Rumplestiltskin had made it so that he never would, his memories lost for good.

At least Emma knew that she had loved someone who hadn't left, who hadn't hurt her the way so many others had. If Killian never remembered, although a large part of her had to believe that he would, she would never want to forget that. Him.

She'd told Neal that day that there were other things she wanted to remember, and as she lay in bed, she decided that there was no better replacement for the cheap silver keychain than the golden coin Killian had pressed into her palm. Emma wanted to trust people again, as much she could, and she'd trusted Killian. Trusted him so completely she had been willing to give him her heart. She'd told him that she knew he'd keep her heart safe, and it was that she wanted to remember. That there was someone she'd believed in like that. Someone who'd known about the trust and hadn't let her down, betrayed her.

Besides, her neck felt far too naked without a second necklace.

Even with Cora hiding somewhere in Storybrooke, David and Emma had decided to attempt to keep things as close to normal as they could. Henry's alarm had gone off early in the morning, and after he'd had cereal and Emma had gulped down a coffee, Mary-Margaret and her bow and arrow had accompanied Henry to Storybrooke Elementary.

Emma had gone with David to the station, but hadn't stayed there for long. David had insisted that he could handle things, and she hadn't bothered to insist on helping. Instead, she'd picked up breakfast from Granny's and wandered to Storybrooke General.

Except once she got to Killian's room, she hesitated. Their last two conversations hadn't gone well, and they had hurt, and she wasn't sure if she could handle walking into the ward and seeing no recognition in his eyes.

But she had brought him breakfast and she loved him, so she opened the door and stepped inside.

He looked up when she entered and, although it took a moment, his gaze still softened when it fell on her and even though it wasn't as warm a look as it always used to be, it was more than she had hoped for.

"I brought waffles?" Emma explained, shaking the paper bag in her hand slightly just in case he hadn't noticed. "I know it's not Granny's lasagne but I figured it was a bit too early for that." Killian didn't say anything, although his eyebrows creased together slightly. "You… you really like Granny's lasagne. Or, at least, you did. Before."

He smiled at her in response. He still looked injured, the grazes on his cheek an angry red and his left arm tied up in a sling, and Emma didn't know if it was their day apart or just because she knew she loved him now, but for just a second, it felt like she'd forgotten how handsome he was and her breath caught at the sight of him.

It was only once he had the food container open on his lap, the plastic fork in his only hand, and Emma was perched beside him on an uncomfortable plastic chair that she spoke again. "How have you been?"

Killian raised an eyebrow and then snickered. "I've been alright." He answered. "Things could be better."

He looked pointedly down at his bandaged stump, held against his chest by the sling, and Emma had to laugh. When he looked back at her, his stare was even warmer, but it still felt different. Like the look wasn't just for her anymore.

"So have you had any visitors since I left?"

Killian nodded and took a bite of the waffle, leaving traces of whipped cream still on his fingers, before answering. "The Sheriff visited once."

"The Sheriff?" Emma asked, confused for a second before she again realised who he must have meant. "Oh, David? He's actually just the deputy. I'm the Sheriff."

His jaw clenched, and Emma watched as he scrutinized her, his gaze settling on the badge attached to her belt. "I know that. I had to have known that." He muttered under his breath a few times, frustrated, before slumping back against his pillow. "And there was someone else who visited me. She said her name was Regina."

"Regina visited you?"

Killian nodded. "She came to ask me a few questions, although I wasn't exactly able to provide her with any answers."

"What did she ask?"

Regina had been in hiding since they'd found out that Cora was in Storybrooke, and Emma was certain that whatever had driven her to visit Killian couldn't be anything good.

"I'm not sure." Killian told her, shrugging his shoulders and wincing at the movement. "I think I must have taken pain killers just before she visited, because what I remember her asking me doesn't make any sense. She said something about a magical dagger belonging to Rumplestiltskin. Whoever that is. She wanted to know if I knew where it was."

"A magical dagger?" Emma repeated. She remembered, only vaguely, hearing August mention the Dark One's dagger before, although too many things had happened since for her to remember exactly what he said. It didn't matter. If Regina and Cora were searching for anything related to Rumplestiltskin, it was bound to be trouble. Although, after the day before, she couldn't find it in herself to care if Rumplestiltskin got harmed in any way. "Are you sure?"

"That's what I remember." Killian said. "Besides, even if that's not what she asked, I couldn't answer her questions."

She knew she should leave and tell David and Mary-Margaret the first piece of information they'd had about Cora since they found out about her arrival, but she wanted a few more minutes with Killian. Even if they were spent in silence.

"Are you okay?" He asked eventually. "You seemed upset when you called yesterday."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about hanging up." Emma said sheepishly. "I just ran into a part of my past I'd wanted to forget. A surprise like that kind of throws you."

"But today is better?" Emma startled when she felt his fingers against the back of her hand, but when she glanced up at him, he looked as surprised by his action as she was. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine." Emma admitted quietly, smiling nervously when his eyebrows rose up and he blinked at her. And she wasn't sure if it was the right move, not when he didn't remember her, but she turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his. With his hand holding hers, she could pretend that nothing was wrong, that he still cared.

If she didn't look up and see just how confused he was.

"And yeah," she continued. "Today's better. At least, it's definitely off to a better start."

Another smile from Killian, and this one was small and soft, and then every doubt she'd had about talking about Neal was gone. Maybe he wouldn't know her past the way he used to, but she was suddenly certain he'd listen anyway.

Once she started speaking, she couldn't stop.

No one seemed thrilled by the news that Regina was after Rumplestiltskin's dagger, and although they still had no confirmation that she was working with her mother, Emma and her parents had very easily come to the conclusion that even if she wasn't, they really couldn't allow her to get her hands on the weapon.

None of them were clear on what the dagger could be used for, and they definitely had no idea where Rumplestiltskin would have hidden it. If Regina was asking Killian, the pawnbroker's seemed to be a possibility, but Killian had told Emma once that he thought there was plenty more in the shop he had yet to find. If he thought that after close to thirty years, it seemed unlikely that any of them would be able to find something Rumplestiltskin was bound to have hidden away.

Even though David and Mary-Margaret were going to start combing through the store, Emma had left them at the pawnbroker's and crossed the road to the library.

Lacey was behind the desk when Emma strode in, and when she looked up from whatever book she was reading, Lacey's eyes widened and she hurried over to Emma. "You're back? You only left yesterday! Is everything okay? Did Rumple… he didn't forget, did he?"

"He didn't forget." Emma confirmed, following Lacey through the library and into her small apartment. "Whatever potion he made to keep his memories worked."

"So you found Baelfire then?" Lacey asked, gesturing Emma over towards the couch. "I thought it would take longer to persuade him to return with you."

"Well, I don't know how well the persuading is going." Emma admitted. "I found Baelfire and then Henry and I got the hell out of there."

"You left Rumple there?" Lacey said, looking horrified. "He's never been out of Storybrooke, he's… well, he's hardly been in Storybrooke. How could you just walk away?"

"He'll make it back." Emma snapped. "He got us there, didn't he?"

Lacey frowned at her. "What happened, Emma?"

She shouldn't tell Lacey, she knew that, but she couldn't stand the concern on her face, concern for Rumplestiltskin, and she couldn't hide her anger. Not when Regina's questions for Killian had confirmed what Emma already knew. "What happened is that he's the one who pushed Killian across that town line. He did it." Emma regretted her bluntness the instant she finished speaking. Lacey looked horrified, shaking her head in disbelief, and Emma shouldn't have said anything. "But I didn't come here to tell you that. I shouldn't have… Look, Regina and Cora are looking for Rumplestiltskin's dagger and I thought if anyone knew where it was, it would be you."

"I'm glad you told me." Lacey muttered, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm not glad I know, but I am glad you told me."

"Right." Emma said stiffly. "So what do you know about this magic dagger?"

"I've never actually seen it. I just heard about it and only from a friend of my father's. Rumple changed the subject the few times I tried to ask questions. I do know it's some kind of power source for the Dark One, or a weapon against him, or something. But I'm sorry, I can't help more than that." Lacey frowned with concentration as she spoke and gave Emma an apologetic look as she trailed off uncertainly.

"So what you're saying is that if Cora and Regina get their hands on it, things'll be bad?" Emma confirmed, grimacing at Lacey's solemn nod. "Okay. So we really need to make sure that doesn't happen. Do you know where it is?"

"No." Lacey answered. "But I know Rumple. I'll figure it out."

Here you go! For a while, it didn't look like you'd be getting this chapter until next week, but I sat and I wrote and I hope you like it! Thank you to everyone who reviewed/favourited/added to story alert and a massive thank you to BlackDragon733, who has returned from her holiday and is beta-ing again!