The following day, Emma was helping Henry to get ready for school. He was packing his school bag when he realised something was missing. He looked up at his mother. "Mum, do you have it?" he asked. "My permission slip. It's due today, and if I don't hand it in, I'll miss the museum trip next week."

Emma looked up from clearing the table and brought the empty glasses and plates to the kitchen before taking the permission slip out of her coat pocket. And also the note that River Song had given her the night before. She stared at it. "Yeah. Your permission slip, it's right here," Emma said as she handed the slip to him but kept the note to herself.

Henry took it but eyed his mother. Something seemed off about her. Ever since the previous night. "Mum, is there something going on?"

"No, nothing," Emma answered quickly.

"No, no. You're doing it again. You're worrying." "No, I am not. I am thinking. There is a difference." "Are you thinking about Walsh?"

"No, I … Yeah. I am. Can you blame me for taking 24 hours to think through making a life-altering decision? Wanna make sure that nothing is wrong." But it was more than Walsh. She was thinking about what River had told her. Her parents … Her family were in danger. Her family was right here, weren't they?

"You're always looking for something to be wrong. You don't have to do that, you know. Sometimes it's okay to accept things are good. I've got to go. I'm going to be late." Henry hugged his mother, who kissed his forehead. "See you. Love you." And with that, Henry went off to school.

Emma watched him leave the apartment. "Love you, too," she said, then got out the paper and unfolded it. Written on it was an address.

89 Wooster Street
New York, NY 10012

It seemed curious to her, and she wanted to investigate further. And, so, she went there. She lockpicked the door to the apartment open and walked inside. She looked around. Someone's apartment. Why was she instructed to go here?

Something about being here made it seem … familiar. But she didn't know why. Something hanging in the window caught her eye. A dreamcatcher. Like what Henry's father had. She took it in her hands and sighed. "Flypaper for nightmares," she muttered. "Neal." It was his apartment. She carried it back towards the centre of the room and placed it on the coffee table before looking through the mail. Every envelope was addressed to Neal. But why was she instructed to go to his apartment?

She threw the envelopes on the coffee table and picked up a bloody rag on the couch. It was the same rag used on Mr Gold when he had been stabbed. But, of course, Emma didn't know that. She had no memory of ever being in Neal's apartment before. But, there was something that caught her eyes. A camera. She dropped the rag and walked over to it. She picked it up and read the name on the strap. Henry.

"That's…" she began, "… not possible." How was Henry's name on a camera in Neal's apartment? She hadn't told Neal of their son.

The camera had some film on it, and she decided to get them developed. Maybe they had some answers to the questions that she had?

She got the pictures developed, met Henry at school at the end of the school day, and walked home with him.

Henry looked up at his mother while they walked. "You want to talk to me about Walsh, don't you?" he asked.

"Why would you say that?" Emma asked. "You bought me candy at the drugstore."

"Okay. Maybe you're right. I have been thinking about him. Maybe what happened in my past with your birth father has kept me from living my life now. Maybe it's time for me to start looking forward. That we start looking forward?"

"So, does that mean you're going to marry him?" "Uh …" Emma began.

"So that's a yes?" Henry asked with a smile. "How are you gonna tell him?"

"Wait. Wait. First, I didn't say that I …."

"You can tell him at dinner tonight." "We're not having dinner."

"I might have sent him a text from your phone this morning. So he's coming over at eight. And I arranged to sleep over at Avery's so the two of you could be alone." The two of them stopped outside their apartment building. "It's okay, Mum. If your gut's telling you to marry him, trust it."

Emma placed her hand on Henry's shoulder. "Crap. I forgot to pick something up. Here take this," she said, handing him the grocery bag, but she took the photo envelope out first. "Go see if you can beat level 24. I'll meet you up there."

Henry nodded as he raced inside, leaving Emma alone to open the photo envelope. But when she did, the photos made no sense. Instead, they were of her and her son in someplace called Storybrooke.

She went to Central Park to meet River Song. And that's where she found her. "Emma,… So glad you could make it," River said.

"Why didn't you tell me that was Neal's place?" Emma asked.

"If I had told you, you would never have gone there."

"What does Neal have you up to? Is he trying to get into Henry's life? How does he even know about him?"

"I'm not here because of Neal. I am here because of you," River told her. "Because your parents are in trouble. Your family. My family. Ripped back to Storybrooke."

"Storybrooke?" Emma asked, holding a photo out to River to see. One of Emma and Henry in front of a sign reading "Storybrooke". "We never lived in a town called Storybrooke. We never took a flight from Boston to New York. We never did any of this."

"So you believe me then?"

"I don't know. These pictures could be photoshopped."

"If you think these are fakes, why did you meet me in Central Park?" River asked. "You know that there's some truth to them. In what I am saying. That something is wrong."

"It's not possible. How could I forget all of this?" Emma asked, putting the pictures away.

"There is an explanation."

"Not one that makes sense."

River reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a small vial full of liquid. "If you drink this, it will. Everything will make sense. I promise you."

"If … If what you're saying is true, I'd have to give up my life here." "A life all based on lies."

"It's real. And it's pretty good. I have Henry. A job. A guy I love."

"Perhaps there's a man you love in the life you lost. Or a woman. Who am I to judge? Regardless, if you want to find the truth to all of this, drink up. It's the only way. Trust your gut, Emma. Take a leap of faith."

"Henry always says that."

"Smart kid. If you won't listen to me, listen to your son."

Emma took the vial and opened it. She looked at it before looking at River and gulped it down. And when she did, she slightly stirred as she felt a rush of memories flooding back to her. Memories of meeting her ten-year-old son in Boston and taking him back to Storybrooke, where his adoptive mother, Regina Mills, lived. She remembered fighting a dragon beneath the town and breaking the curse. She remembered meeting her family for the first time—her parents. And also escaping Pan's curse.

She looked at River. "I remember," she said before she led River back to her empty apartment, and River told Emma what she knew.

"And everything was alright until the Doctor sent you that message?" Emma asked as she and River sat down in the living room chairs.

"Afraid so. That there was a new curse, sending everyone back to Storybrooke. To escape a witch and to find you so you can defeat her," River told her.

"I thought Regina said there was no way back to this world. So who is this witch?"

"Someone very powerful. A witch with enough power to reach into this world. I do know that the Dark Curse is powerful. It needs someone equally powerful to cast it."

"Do you know who?"

River shook her head. "I don't. The message was quite rushed. Even for the Doctor. He mustn't have had much time to explain." She found it odd for a Time Lord to be running out of time.

"You know what I was yesterday? A mother. Until you showed up and started poking holes in everything I thought was real. Then, when I drank that potion, it was like waking up from a dream. A perfect dream."

"You still have your son."

"And now, I have to figure out how to explain all this to him."

"And he would need a second potion? All that the Doctor gave to me was one. I'm sorry."

"Better start figuring out what I'm going to tell him," Emma said when there was a doorbell rang and interrupted the two of them.

"Who's that?" River asked.

"Walsh. Henry invited him," Emma answered.

"I can get rid of him if you'd like."

"No. My memories might not be real. But he is. And so are the eight months we spent together." Emma got up from her seat. "I owe him an explanation."

"What are you going to say to him?"

Emma sighed as she walked to the door. "I don't know. But I care about him too much to drag him into all this. Wait here."

Emma invited Walsh up to the rooftop garden and turned to face him. "Sorry. My place is just kind of a mess right now," Emma lied.

"Emma, it's okay to make a bold romantic gesture without passing it off as a housekeeping malfunction," Walsh said.

"Walsh …I can't marry you." "It's too soon, huh?"

"It's not that. I need to go home and take care of some things."

"Home? You said you were an orphan. You said it was just you and Henry. This was your home."

"That wasn't a lie. There's a part of my life that I'd been blocking out, and I think it would be impossible for you to understand."

"Come on, how do you know that? What changed overnight?"

"Someone from my past showed up."

"Henry's father? Another ex?"

"No. No one like that."

"Okay. So that's how I'm supposed to sleep at night?"

"It kills me to have to make this choice at all. To leave us behind, my whole life."

"Emma, if you love this like, then keep it. Stay. Just stay."

"I can't. I wish you could see this the way I see it."

Walsh was silent for a moment. "And I wish you hadn't drunk that potion." Emma stared at him. How did he know that? "What?"

Walsh started pacing and threw a chair across the roof. "Just couldn't leave well enough alone."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's too bad. I kind of liked you."

"Who are you?" Emma asked, watching Walsh's eyes turn red. He lunged at Emma, who ducked, and Walsh fell over the roof.

Behind her, River opened the door to the roof – her squareness gun in her hand. "What's going on up here?" she asked before they heard wings flapping and saw a flying monkey fly up to the roof.

"Really?" Emma asked, looking over at the flying monkey.

River aimed a gun at the winged creature and fired. The squareness gun emitted a sonic blast, stunned the winged beast, and knocked him back over the roof, where he fell to the ground and disappeared in a cloud of white smoke.

"What was that?" Emma asked.

"It looked like a winged monkey," River said. "Which gives me an idea who could have cast this curse."

"We leave in the morning," Emma said and walked back to her apartment.