A/N: *Reappears from the shadows*

When she was a little girl, one of the nicer older women from one of her group home's was pregnant. Emma remembered being mystified that a tiny human could grow in something as confined as a human body, and would attach herself to the woman whenever she could just to learn more. As a girl of only six, she became really confused when the news broke that the father of the baby was not for sure the father and the words whore and home wrecker were starting to get thrown around by the other adults and the older kids. Emma just could not wrap her head around why it should matter who the father was. The pregnant woman was nice, and she would make an excellent mother, wasn't that all that mattered?

Of course, as she got older, Emma learned why it mattered, and found herself now, in her early thirties, wondering whatever happened to the woman who's name she couldn't seem to remember.

She sighed, and tried to steady her shaky hand as she undid the lock of her bathroom door. She couldn't even remember why exactly she locked it, she was the only one home and Henry and Killian were out on the ship and wouldn't be back for hours.

Maybe she locked it because part of her was expecting her mother to burst in the house in all her mothering glory, with a pot of soup. Or maybe she was expecting her pirate fiance to cut his bonding trip with her son short, just so he could make sure she was alright. Either way, as she opened the door to the still empty house, the whole thing seemed silly.

She checked her cell and frowned when nothing but the time stared back at her. Now that she knew, she would do anything for a distraction. Someone calling about how Leroy was drunk again, or Archie calling to be annoying, anything. Apparently the residents of Storybrooke decided not to need their savior on the day where she wouldn't really have minded saving.

Maybe she should have went out on the water with the boys. Maybe she should have waited to make a trip to the drugstore for another day. Part of her even regretted the decision not to ask Regina for the magical alternative, because if she did, at least someone would know and she would not have to spend the next several hours going crazy.

Or as it turned out several days.

Yeah, whoever said the savior was brave was delusional.

She spent a week fending of Killian's worries with telling him that it was just that time of month, which the pirate full heartedly believed, even with the lack of tampon wrappers in the bathroom garbage. She just avoided her parents as much as possible, knowing Snow would guess right away, and when she met Regina in her vault and the smoke and whatever else from the potion that she was concocting that day got to her, she admitted that she might have a stomach bug.

Except she knew it definitely wasn't.

And she knew she had to tell her family.

Which is why the night of the potion accident (as she decided to fondly refer to it as) she found herself opening the drawer of her nightstand, digging beneath a bottle of allergy medication and grabbing the plastic snack bag that she had stashed there.

As soon as she grabbed it, her hands started shaking again, and she softly cursed, glancing down at the test and noticing the small pink plus line was faded a little. Of course she didn't think of that when she originally stashed it, but then again, it didn't really matter, what reason would Killian have not to believe her anyways?

Whore…

The nasty set of words got louder and louder in her mind as she searched the nantucket home for Killian. She tried to push them completely away with a big mental shove when she eventually found him in the kitchen attempting to perfect his cooking skills.

She almost smiled as she glancet at the eggs in the frying pan he held with his good hand. Breakfast for dinner. It seemed like him. Henry would be ecstatic.

"What's that, love?" He turned around and glanced at her briefly when she scooted up on the counter opposite the one he was using for his ingredients. He was already used to his housemates obvious dislike of actual chairs.

"A bag." She answered as normally as she could, crinkling the plastic between her fingers.

He fought an eye roll. "Emma, don't be coy, Whatever is in there is bothering you, I can already tell."

Somehow that sentence made her feel even more guilty. "Well, it's um…..well, it's….." She gulped and quickly chastised herself, when did she become such a coward? "A pregnancy test."

"Yeah?" Hook grabbed a metal spatula from the drawer, finding Emma's nervousness to be just a little amusing. "Used I assume. What's the result?"

"I took it last week, the last time you took Henry sailing." Emma supplied. "And its positive."

At that, the pirate set the spatula down and turned around completely. "You sat on a positive test for a week?"

"Well...uh...yeah." Emma admitted. It was exactly what she did.

He seemed to sigh "Why, love?"

As soon as the question came out of his mouth, the answer she had prepared for it all of the sudden went out the window. Because it might not be yours. Try as she might, she just couldn't utter that sentence. No matter how stupid and suspicious she knew she must look with her mouth hanging open.

"Did you think that I wouldn't be happy?" He prodded her. "Did you think that ...I don't know. That if you didn't tell me, it would just go away so that you could fit in your wedding dress?" He shook his head, knowing how stupid that sentence sounded. "I mean, what Emma?"

Both of those would be pretty good excuses, she had to admit. She could have told him any number of things that made sense and he would have believed her. She nervously hit her heel of her boot on the lower cabinets, fighting with herself. When she finally opened her mouth again, a spiral of smoke caught her eye from behind his head.

"You're burning the eggs!"

"Impressive."

He scared her half to death, and he knew it too, if the smirk on his face when she jumped and turned around meant anything.

"Go away." She scowled as she holstered her gun and began walking away.

"Aw, after I walked all this way?" He pretended to pout, straightening himself out from leaning against a tree.

She sighed, annoyed. "That gunshot meant nothing to you"

"Well, I did say it was impressive so that's obviously not true."

She rolled her eyes but otherwise didn't respond, instead choosing to just keep walking.

He chuckled to himself and kept following, almost tripping over a tree root as he kept trying to see the look on her face.

She eventually pursed her lips. "This search is a one man job."

"First of all, if its a one man job, I should do it, because I am the one with the penis here, and secondly, I thought you were searching...well, for someone. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that gunshot more than likely scared them off."

She stopped and opened her mouth to say something, but just ended up scoffing and shaking her head. "I was angry." She eventually mumbled.

"Obviously." He glanced skywards at the sun getting ready to set. "You seem to have a lot of pent up emotions these days. Maybe you need to find a outlet for them."

Emma snorted. "That's why I have my gun."

"Yeah, but bullets are expensive." All of the sudden he was in front of her, grabbing her elbows gently.

"Neal! I…." She began to protest, trying to jerk away.

"Shhh." He backed her up against the tree. "Your father has it handled, that's what I was coming to tell you before I heard the gunshot."

"He could have just called." She muttered looking up at him, knowing that she should probably sidestep him or something to escape his warm breath and intense stare.

"Take that up with him, I on the other hand, liked this way better. It gives as an excuse to finally talk."

"Talk about what?" She shivered slightly. "There's nothing to-"

But from the way his lips crashed desperately against hers before she could even finish the sentence, they did have a whole lot to talk about. A whole hell of a lot.

When Emma jerked out of the dream, she glanced at her unforgiving alarm clock and it informed her that it was just past two in the morning. She laid there for a few moments trying to shake away the feeling the dream left, knowing full well that it was no use, that it was a little more than just a dream. All the things that were said, all the things that happened, really happened that night in the dark forest, so erasing the feelings, that would be almost impossible. Especially since they never did get to actually talk about anything. He died before they could get a single serious syllable in and that may be the toughest part in all of this. She knew what they felt for eachother, but yet, in a way, she did not.

She sighed again softly as she felt pressure on her bladder, knowing that if she got up, there was absolutely no way she was getting back to sleep. She remembered enough from her first pregnancy though to know that a call of nature could not be ignored though so she said goodbye to her soft warm nest of blankets and shuffled to the bathroom.

"Love?" Came Killians voice, sleep laced all through it.

"Bathroom." She explained quickly and escaped before he could accuse her otherwise. She wasn't sure how long he had been awake for exactly and knew he knew what a bad dream looked like.

A troubling one rather, she corrected herself as she found herself locking the bathroom once again. She sank down to the cool tile floor eventually, not wanting to go back and lay next to the man that she was keeping some vital information from, but half expecting him to come knocking anyways.

The worst part was that Killian was ecstatic. After she dumped the pan of burnt eggs in the sink and ran cold water on them for eternity, he started with the questions and did not stop until she sent him to Granny's with a list of what she wanted for dinner. While he was gone, she rehearsed exactly how she was going to tell him she might be carrying a dead man's baby instead of his own as she got the table ready, but when he actually walked through the door with the take out bags and announced that he hoped it was a girl, her confidence wavered again.

It wasn't technically lying if she didnt know for sure, was it? And was it so wrong to try and enjoy his happiness, especially since it hadn't shown about anything recently? Was it so wrong that she wanted to be happy, for once, or at least some semblance of the emotion?

Being the savior did not mean she had to be unhappy, but then again, she knew as soon as she thought it that being the savior did not have anything to do with it. It was just an excuse she thrown out there to attempt to excuse her scandalous behaviour. If she had never been the savior in the first place, August would have never her and Neal broke them up, making it so that he would probably be alive today, and also making it so that they would have nine million kids together already. But then again, if she was never named savior, that would mean the curse would have never been cast, making it so that they would have never met.

Or….

She sighed and banged her head against the wall. All of that stuff didn't matter. The hormones were already starting to make her crazy.