I apologize for the wait! School, life and personal issues bombarded me in the last few months and I'm sorry that it has gotten between me and all of my writings. Hopefully, I'll be able to give you more chapters in the upcoming weeks!

Thanks for your patience and for sticking with this story!

Summary of the Previous Chapter: After Emma physically got away from the Snow Queen, she went over to Gold's Pawn Shop, so she could take care of her magical problems, but when she got there, she overheard him talking to her parents and to Killian—as soon as they left, however, she asked him to remove her abilities for good.

…

Chapter Four: Caught

…

"…But…" Gold continued, looking back down at his half-completed potion as if to hide his dark inner thoughts. The wheels in his head had been turning ever since she had announced her shocking favor to him and, by her doing so, it caused him to mull over his already developing plans. They were complicated, rewarding, crafty and very difficult—as was the way with most enchantments—BUT…if he could lay his hands on some powerful magic…his load would lighten up considerably. Though deep in his own mind, he managed to finish his sentence to a noticeably anxious Emma.

"…I am curious as to why you would want to give them up. Your powers are certainly one of a kind, Ms. Swan."

"I'm well aware of that," she muttered before finishing, not really paying attention to the man's altered demeanor. "You saw what happened. I nearly killed my dad because of said 'one-of-a-kind' powers…"

Considering her words, he nodded his head, but failed to hide the smirk that blossomed across his face. "I did see what you did over by the station, but if my memory serves, which it always does," he said before pausing, his focus shifting over to what he was supposed to be doing. Grabbing one of the small unopened pouches that he had plopped down onto the table, he pulled on the string that bound the ends with a short yank, forcing the fabric apart in one fluid motion. After he had gathered a healthy amount of the white, salt-like grains between two fingertips, he tossed them into the large bowl, unceremoniously, before stirring and blending the contents together. "It wasn't your charming father that you almost killed…it was the Captain..."

First, she furrowed her brows, trying to understand his weird correction, but when she did, she then rolled her eyes unapologetically. "I don't care about your feelings towards Killian," she said, purposefully stressing the name in order to cancel out the one Gold had just used. "To me, there is no difference. The point is that I could've killed somebody...somebody that I care a great deal about."

A sly smile then slithered onto the older man's face, shadowing his eyes in mischief. "You are completely right, dearie; however, there wasn't a specific point to my alteration. I was just remarking on what could've been, is all…"

Emma's eyes flashed in anger. "Look, if you're not going to help me then—"

"There's no need for any dramatics, Ms. Swan," he interrupted, his features now weighed down with solemnity. "Given the nature of your circumstances, I'm entirely willing to help you."

"You, you are?"

"I am."

Narrowing her eyes, she folded her arms over her chest, not particularly liking this uncharacteristic willingness, generosity and agreeability. She, at the very least, had expected some sort of argument or complaint when she had asked for his help, not this. Something was definitely off... "What do you want?"

Still stirring the ingredients, he responded rather nonchalantly. "Excuse me?"

"C'mon, Gold," Emma said with a tilt of her head, her eyes scrutinizing his facial features. When he didn't answer quickly, she raised a brow and exhaled loudly. "What do you want in exchange for removing my powers? What deal do I have to perform for you in order for this to go through?"

Clicking his tongue, Gold stopped mixing and peered into the bowl, unconsciously curling his upper lip as he examined the now combined contents. Letting her question hang in the air between them, he considered his options. Honestly...he didn't know how to respond to her inquiries. Normally, he would've had something up his sleeve by now, something that he had either been secretly wanting or scheming after, but she had nothing that he currently desired from her—minus her abilities and that was about to fall directly into his lap! He could do what he did with her last time and reserve one for future use, however, that would greatly contradict with what he already had in store for her.

Decisions, decisions, he thought, maliciously.

Taking a small step closer, Emma watched the changing expressions on his face. She had no clue as to what he was thinking about but whatever it was; it was giving her an unnerving and chilling feeling. She knew that she wasn't in her right mind—thanks to her many magical outbursts—if she was coming to him for help, but this appeared to be her only way. She had to change in order to protect those she loved and getting rid of, what she thought, to be the most dangerous part of her seemed to be a small price to pay. "Hello?" she interjected, instantly snapping him back to reality. "Um…Gold, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, dearie. I was just thinking about your request."

"Um," she began after clearing her throat and shaking her head. Pushing aside her suspicions, she spoke again, her voice trembling in nervous energy. "H-how are you going to d-do it?"

"Let me handle the particulars," he answered rather dismissively, his attentions more honed in on picking out the correct vial for her parent's tracking potion then on any concerns she may have about their transaction. Lowering his head for another hasty inspection, he nodded before readdressing her, his tone oddly neutral. "But rest assured…I do have a solution in mind that will do exactly what you have requested of me; however, it's been a long time since I've seen its ingredients or looked it up in general..."

"Are you telling me that the infamous Rumplestiltskin has forgotten how to make a potion or...whatever?"

The moment that that had passed her lips, she instantly regretted them. Biting her tongue, Emma winced then looked away when he directed his gaze squarely onto her. She actually didn't mean to say that out loud but her frustrations and fears were starting to get the best of her again. The more she waited or mused about her next move or fought against her emotions, the more control she lost.

This is my best chance, she silently acknowledged. It might be my only chance and I'm willing to do just about anything to get rid of this curse. Taking a deep breath, she slowly returned her eyes back onto Gold, who had, mercifully, resumed in his work. Let's just hope that he still wants to help me…

"Um, I'm sorry," she muttered, her voice incredibly soft.

"There's no need for apologies, Ms. Swan, but the work will be a rather…tricky endeavor and will require a…" he paused for a moment, choosing his next verse carefully. "…A special device."

"Okkkkk," Emma trailed off. Pushing a strand of hair behind an ear, she attempted to question him further. "What do you mean? What kind of device is it?"

"I shall explain all of the necessary elements to you the moment everything has been properly prepared," he responded hastily, his mind contemplating over every excruciating detail so he could effectively pull off his new idea. Finally selecting the vial of his choice, he grabbed it while, simultaneously, bringing the bowl up to his eye level. Gently placing one end against the other, he steadily tipped the light green fluid into the opposite container, before giving her an unreadable, lop-sided smile. "It will be a time worthy venture, so…meet me back here, at the shop, before midnight…say around, ten? At that hour, everything should be ready and your wish...will be granted."

"Wait, what? What do you mean at 'ten'?!" She practically shrieked. "Why can't we do it in a few hours? Or-or—"

"Well, that would be a rather difficult thing to do when the reasons that I've already mentioned to you are factored into the equation, which also includes the demands of your parents and…your Captain. Speaking of which," he then announced thoughtfully, his Scottish drawl becoming more noticeable with each syllable. "They should be about ready to make their presence known, which you're already aware of because of your eavesdropping, and I assume that you don't want them to see you at this given moment in time…"

Too nervous to respond, Emma looked down, her thoughts frantic.

Gold sighed before placing the bowl back onto his table, the object lightly scraping the surface. After he had reached for and capped the vial with a small cork, he wrapped his fingers around the requested bottle and glanced back at Emma, who was clearly agitated with his decision. "Their ten minutes are coming to a close," he prodded. "So, I suggest that you take your leave right now, Ms. Swan…unless you wish them to find you without this tracking potion that I had so...painstakingly created?"

Wordlessly shaking her head, she briefly looked over her shoulder to glance over at the door, her eyes filled with worry. The mere mention of her parents and Killian was enough to send a sharp sense of paranoia throughout her system, spiking her nerves to a degree of unbearable heights. "No, no, you're right," she acknowledged upon facing him. "I'll meet you back here around ten."

"Good…till then, dearie."

Understanding his thinly concealed farewell, Emma let out a disappointed sound when she quickly shuffled back over to her former position by the back door. "Thanks, Gold," she added on impulse. "I appreciate what you're willing to do for me…and for everybody else…"

He didn't immediately respond, however. Instead, he waited till he could no longer hear her receding steps before whispering under his breath, his tone clear but also hushed—should she suddenly reappear.

"…Not as much as I appreciate what you're about to do for me…"

...

Too far away to hear Gold's sinister words, Emma exited the building and carefully made her way back onto the sidewalk she had used to get to the shop. Folding her arms close to her body, she gripped at her jacket when she began heading to her place of refuge—the forest—but when she heard a familiar voice ring out from behind her, her hold immediately slackened.

"EMMA!"

Fear prickled the back of her neck when she, all too quickly, recognized the cry's owner. Cursing inwardly, she automatically found herself hesitating in her movements, but not enough to make her turn around for a full blown confrontation. Her mind raced to find a suitable way out of what, she assumed, to be a really awkward reunion. Thinking of her options, she decided she could either: turn around to talk, fetch her car or run like hell…

"Emma!"

The person was getting closer—she could tell because of the advancing footsteps. Knowing that her time was dwindling by the second, Emma closed her eyes and vaguely skimmed over her said choices. Her least favorite of the three was the first one, she wasn't exactly in the mood for a heart-to-heart chat, especially with the person behind her, and that was closely followed by the second option she had listed. Her car was still at the station and that would entail more energy than she had at the moment—plus, she would have to turn around in order to do so, seeing how the vehicle was in the opposite direction.

It's got to be the third one, she conceded, grimly. My personal favorite…all I've ever done, in my life, was run away…

Ignoring her musings, the agonizing churning of her stomach and the return of her shaky hands, she was just about to crassly bolt forward, with her mind solely focused on returning to the forest, when she suddenly felt something tug against her upper right arm. The gentle, yet strong, motion was enough to force her around, slightly entangling her legs and rattling her senses, but when everything cleared, her eyes fell directly onto the concerned face of her mother.

Swallowing hard, Emma glanced down at the delicate fingers that had attached themselves to her. "Mary Margaret," she whispered with an obvious shudder in her voice. The contact was too much and if it stayed that way for much longer, she had a feeling that something bad might happen...again. Rolling her gripped arm and shoulder back, she easily detached herself from her mom, whose expression transformed into one of sheer heartbreak.

Regretfully withdrawing her hand, Mary Margaret continued to stare at her daughter as a million emotions swarmed around inside of her. Clearing her throat, she tried to speak out to her again but found that she couldn't. Upon hearing Emma use her Christian name, once again, her throat had constricted painfully, making it incredibly difficult for her to utter even one word.

She had been completely surprised when she innocently caught Emma walking down the streets of Storybrooke—on her sudden journey back to Gold's Shop—especially after they had spent the majority of the day looking for her, but she wasn't about to complain. She was completely and wholly relieved that she was within her sights, but even though Emma was now found and, not to mention, standing right in front of her, her presence didn't magically erase the guilt she had been feeling the entire day at her irrational behavior.

She didn't just owe her an apology…she owed her a heartfelt one.

Biting her lower lip, Mary Margaret tried to make eye contact with Emma but the latter quickly looked away—her mother's presence unnerving her. On a shaky breath, she finally managed to speak. "E-Emma, I'm so sorry for everything that I've said and done." Her voice faltered a few times but after taking a small step forward, she carried on, her tone exceedingly tender. "We've all been so worried about you. We've called everybody and searched all over…p-please, please come home. We love you and we can work this out…I know we can…Please, give us, no...give me another chance?"

Emma automatically shook her head, the ends of her blonde hair swaying from side-to-side due to the forceful movement. Swallowing hard, Mary Margaret's breathing turned ragged at the apparent rejection. Lifting her hands, she was prepared to beg for forgiveness when the sight of Emma's flushed face and bright eyes stopped her in her tracks. Specifically, it wasn't the unshed tears she saw welling up in her daughter's eyes that made it difficult for her to continue, it was the pure, horrified look written on her face that stunned her in speechlessness.

I did that, Mary Margaret contemplated, miserably. I hurt her. This is my fault, all of it.

"That's not a good idea," Emma said, cutting into her mother's thoughts. She had to say something. She felt compelled to take some of the pressure off of her mom's shoulder's by giving her just a hint of what she was planning on doing next. "Least not now…I have an idea but, but it'll take some time." Gliding a foot backwards while clasping her hands behind her, she did her best to leave the situation before things got any worse. All of her nervous energy was practically bubbling inside of her and her trembling hands were beginning to glow again—she had caught a peek of them during her mom's apology. Why can't I find control? She questioned quietly, demanding the answers from the unknown.

Licking her lips, she tried to calm herself down when she spoke again, addressing her now confused looking mother. "I've got to go but I'll—"

"Emma, what are you talking about? You don't have to go," Mary Margaret gently interrupted, her eyes glistening. Stretching her hands fully out, she beseeched her by repeating some of her earlier words. "We can work this out. We can do this together—"

"No, we can't!" The blonde responded harshly, her throat and chest constricting. Forgetting herself, she gestured wildly, which did nothing but inflame the reddish hue that had started to cover her hands in an intimidating light. Reemerging from between her fingers were the electrical sparks that had caused the disturbance in Gold's shop, but before any of it could shoot out or react in any way, Emma took a deep breath and tucked them behind her back again. "Just let me go and I—"

"EMMA!"

Jumping, Emma snapped her head into the direction the second voice had come from, her eyes immediately soaking in the figures of her dad and Killian, who were both gazing at her with mixed emotions. They had just left the Sheriff's Station and were on their way back to the Pawn Shop with a scarf Emma had left there, for the tracking potion, when they spotted the two in what appeared to be a tense situation.

Killian ran forward a bit before David caught up to him, the entirety of his focus belonging on his Swan, who looked as if she was moments away from taking off on them again. When he was only a few feet away from her, he slowed down and raised his hand, copying the gesture Mary Margaret made only moments ago, so as not to scare her—like he had foolishly, yet accidentally, done earlier.

Staring at her for a few seconds, as if to make sure she was truly there, Killian took in Emma's shocked paleness when she resumed moving backwards, fear radiating from her in spades. What he saw, broke his heart and shattered his soul, but he refused to do what he knew she wanted of him, what he saw lurking beneath the surface of her expression…he refused to give up on her.

"Emma," he began, voice thick. "Love, we've been so worried about you."

"We were just about to go find you," David cut in, moving to stand in-between his wife and Killian. Lifting up the scarf, he indicated to his meaning before carrying on. "We were going to use a tracking potion..."

"I know," she responded squeakily, her eyes darting over to the Sheriff's Station, which she assumed was now empty. Squeezing her fingers together, from its position, her mind raced to find a solution, but the one thing that kept repeating itself over and over again in her mind, to the point of annoyance, was her need to escape back into the forest. Roaming her gaze over the three people in front of her, who were doing a marvelous job at cornering her, Emma knew that just running away would be completely pointless—thanks to her already weakened state and the many other factors that were currently surrounding her...

She HAD to find another solution to get out of there and FAST, but how and where?

…The Station, she suddenly thought, her mouth slightly dropping open at the obvious nature of her realization. Nobody's there now and I've already been seen…the only difficult part would be getting passed them…

"I need you to understand that what happened wasn't you fault," David interjected, pulling her focus back onto him, but not enough to stop the wheels from turning in her head. Wearing a sad expression, he continued. "It was an accident and I'm okay, honey. Really, I am."

Despite hearing the good news come from her father, for the first time, Emma's hands increased in their quivering, making her bite her lower lip. Looking away, she tried to think of a response that might convince them of her point of view but instantly, she knew better. The only thing she could do, at the moment, was to make a run for it.

"Well," she began weakly, her eyes still down. "To make sure that it won't happen again…I'm gonna do something that I should've done a while ago…"

Narrowing then widening his eyes, Killian spoke slowly, his tone low enough to make her look up at him. "…Emma, you can't..."

He had a bad feeling. Her words struck him hard in the gut and stirred a dark suspicion deep inside of him. It took him a moment, but when he figured out which building they were standing next to, though it could only be seen if he looked at it with his peripheral vision, and who could possibly have a hand in Emma's rash decision, his jaw clenched together in anger. Separating himself from the others by moving a couple steps forward, he brought himself relatively close to where Emma was retreating from. She twitched at his boldness—one he still hadn't learned from—before shaking her head, trying to dissuade him from coming closer.

"Killian," she returned, her voice strained. "Don't." Unconsciously, she dropped her hands down to her sides, her fingers shining a healthy and bright amber color. Her gaze flitted between the dark haired man approaching her and the station, which was only a few feet away...IF she ran for it. I have to do this, she decided silently, but before she could properly execute what exactly she was going to do, in her jumbled head, Killian suddenly filled her eyesight.

"Whatever you're planning, love…I can assure you that it's not in your best interest, especially if it includes the crocodile," he warned in a mild tone that enhanced his accent. "Just—"

"No," Emma shot out hotly, taking Killian by surprise. Then, with a simple gesture, she brought her hands up before her and showed him her glowing palms by naturally bending her wrists into his direction. "I have to get rid of this. It's-it's making my life a living hell…always has…"

"Your magic is a part of you, Swan."

Holding his meaningful stare with one of her own, she balled her outstretched limbs till they transformed into proper fists. His expression made it difficult for her to breathe, but she couldn't do what he, what they, wanted her to do. She couldn't just forget about what had happened. It seemed to be permanently burned in her mind and, unfortunately, it wasn't her style to just let things go. "Yeah, well," she began, standing a little bit straighter, the top half of her body poised with tension when her shoulders knitted together. "They won't be anymore…"

Then, before she could give any of them a chance to respond, Emma bolted from her spot with a soft push of adrenaline, easily breezing past Killian and her parents, who had all reacted too late. They called after her a few seconds later, but as soon as she dodged around them, she had used what was left of her speed to cross then sprint down the opposite street, her intention becoming quite clear to the other three.

All she heard, when she neared her destination, were the desperate cries of her name and the crackling of energy, once again, encompassing her shaky hands.

…

Again, I'm sorry for the wait! Hopefully, I'll have another chapter up soon!