The Promise

by Flslp87

Killian and Emma, two people longing for love. Come along on their journey of True Love, filled with romance, passion, and challenges as they fight for their Happy Beginning in The Promise.

23. Chapter 23

In Chapter 22, the brothers' reunion started a bit explosively but Killian found out that Emma was alive. This is a big chapter... enjoy.

Chapter 23

Killian's Apartment
New York, NY
Thursday Night

"Wh...what," Killian pinned Elsa with a hard stare, "did he say?"

She smiled and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Emma is alive."

As soon as she said the words, he knew it to be true. Somehow a part of him had always known it to be true. "You said that?" he asked his brother who, upon rising, had moved closer to Elsa. Killian squinted slightly, reminded of his dream where she had been the one who calmed Liam and wondered...was something there between them?

"Aye, Killian," Liam nodded his head, "your Emma is alive, and," he took a deep breath, "she's waiting for you to come get her."

His words hit Killian like a punch to his solar plexus, causing him to fall back against the wall. His thoughts raced in a million directions at once, and when after a few seconds he couldn't organize them enough to say anything, he sent a panicked look Liam's way.

~~~CS~~~

Liam had come up with a dozen things to say to Killian but the minute the door was opened, everything he had planned seemed so inadequate. And while one part of him felt he deserved that punch, blimey it hurt. His little brother wasn't so little any longer and his punches packed a bit more, well...punch. But really, it was nothing more than he deserved for this debacle that had...somehow been created. And now, finally, thanks to the woman standing next to him-he could still feel her lips on his-no, he pushed the thought down, Killian and Emma...and Henry came first. Once their happy ending was on track, well...

His eyes traveled over Killian's face, noting the shock his words had brought seemed to have added some color to his otherwise pale complexion. Likewise, his eyes were starting to sparkle again, as if they were returning to life after being long dead. He wouldn't look like death warmed over if you hadn't, his inner self started to say before he clamped down on the negative thoughts.

It was time for them to work together...as brothers...for until they did, the happiness of their family was in jeopardy. "Killian, we need to talk," he said quickly, worried that the door would be slammed in his face.

Killian was still leaning against the wall studying him, but as if making up his mind about something, he opened the door wider and indicated they precede him.

"Maybe I should go-" Elsa began.

"-No, please stay," both men answered in unison and then laughed...their laughter a little self-conscious, stilted even...as if the man standing before them were someone they hadn't seen in a while.

Liam wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand, not only to give him strength for what was to come, but to say thank you...once again.

She sent him a little smile and he relaxed slightly as she nodded her head in agreement and made her way inside. He relaxed even more once she crossed the threshold and, after a quick glance at Killian, followed her.

Elsa moved into the apartment as if she were familiar with the place, causing him equal parts shame and jealousy. Jealousy...not because he was worried that there might be something between his brother and her, but because he should have been the one who was familiar with Killian's place. And if it hadn't taken so long for him to realize that Emma Swan was the only woman for his brother, he might have been.

Shut up, he warned himself, no more living in the past. Explain and hope you can move forward.

The feelings of shame made sense, as it had taken him too long to stop being an arsehole. That was simple to figure out and now he was dealing with the consequences. And those consequences included trying to put back together what had been too easily torn apart.

"Liam." His name spoken by a quiet voice served to bring him back to the present. "Here," Elsa held out a tissue, "you've a little blood on your lip."

He hadn't felt the sting nor noticed the metallic taste of the blood until she brought it to his attention. As he pressed the tissue against his split lip, he glanced down into Elsa's concerned eyes, "You okay?" she asked, sparking a warm, tingling feeling inside.

"I'm glad you stayed," he told her sincerely, thinking how she balanced him. "We might need a referee."

Liam watched Killian move closer, anger and something else in each step, but what that was, he wasn't sure. Dabbing at his lip, he pulled the tissue away to see that the bleeding had slowed but not stopped completely.

Killian pinned him with a harsh stare. "The hit was for daring to invade Emma's and my privacy, but we can discuss that," he spit out in a clipped voice, "later. Now, perhaps you can share with me why all of a sudden you're telling me Emma's alive when you were the one who told me she died.

Liam felt his head come up as if he had been hit again, and wondered if he was hearing things, "What did you say?"

"You heard me," Killian barked, "you're the one who told me she was dead."

"No," Liam shook his head, thinking back to that day in May, "I...why...what..." He couldn't remember what he had said but telling his brother that Emma was dead, that he knew didn't happen.

"What? Can't admit it now?"

"Killian," Liam took a step closer, "after I left Emma and came back to your room, you were sleeping...and then," he swallowed hard remembering the feeling of hearing his brother had slipped into a coma, "the doctor explained your situation, so...how could I have said that to you?"

"You said," Killian took a step closer and clenched his teeth, 'How am I going to tell Killian about Emma?' I might not have had my eyes opened but I heard you loud and clear." Of course, he had also heard the nurses in the hallway talking about the woman who had been in the Parkway wreck who had died but…

Liam looked away from Killian, turning anguished eyes toward Elsa. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and even though just looking at her gave him peace, she was unable to give him any answers that would help him know how to explain what had happened. "But Killian, that's not..."

"But Killian, what?" Killian interrupted, "Are you going to toss more excuses my way?"

"No!" Liam shouted, "it's just..."

Elsa put her hand on his arm, halting any further speech. "Killian, listen to Liam."

She pleaded with his brother but not for herself, for him, he thought. But would it do any good?

~~~CS~~~

Emma is alive, he heard ricocheting around inside his head. EMMA is alive, bounced back a little louder. EMMA IS ALIVE, this time the need to see her and hold her in his arms flooded through him, staggering him in its wake. Why did Liam know this? Better yet, how did Liam know this? He found himself clenching and unclenching his fists, fighting the urge to hit Liam again and again until he told him the whole story. Perhaps patience would be the better approach than beating the hell out of him, he decided, even though he had a feeling it was going to be painful.

The more that was said, though, the angrier he found himself becoming at the situation until...Elsa stepped into the conversation pleading with him to listen...but not to her...to Liam.

His irritation immediately was directed her way. "Whose side are you on anyway?" he tossed at her.

Her eyes filled with tears that spilled over. "I'm on Emma's side," she told him brokenly.

Her plea deflated him, temporarily displacing his anger and he sank into the nearest chair, covering his face with his hands. "You're right, I'm sorry. It's just that..."

"Killian," she repeated, "just listen."

After giving her a subtle nod, Killian watched her slip her hand into Liam's and whisper, "Just start at the beginning."

As Liam began his account of that fateful Monday night three months ago, Killian was once again pulled back into that headspace of how helpless he had felt. How, still to this day, he cursed his impulsive decision to rush their wedding instead of just waiting...and talking to Liam. And how guilty he had felt as he watched Liam walk out of his hospital room while he lay in the bed, alone.

When Elsa slipped her small hand into his, Liam immediately felt a calm come over him that had fled when Killian opened the door. Finding the words that would truly explain why something like this had happened, when it wasn't something that he totally understood himself, was a seemingly impossible task, but he had to try. He missed his brother and he was committed to repairing his family, no matter what it took. Taking a deep breath and allowing the sight of Elsa's hand enclosed in his to give him strength, he started his story.

"When I got the call that you had been in the accident, I panicked as I didn't think I could live with myself if I wasn't able to try to make things right between us." Liam swallowed hard, thinking about his talk with Nemo and how his wise words had been what really started his self-reflection. "And once I saw that you were alive and asking me for help, well...I was relieved. When I left your room the thoughts and feelings bouncing around inside my head were all over the place, but your well-being was my priority."

"I walked into Emma's room expecting one thing, and was presented with a sight that caused pain in the vicinity of my heart that I hadn't felt in years." Feeling his eyes glaze over, Liam blinked rapidly trying to clear his vision but that didn't stop a few tears from escaping and rolling down his face. "I had been living, but unable to feel anything since that debacle with Lily, almost to the point that life…hadn't been worth…living." He met Killian's eyes, wanting to show him that walking into that room had changed him.

Killian winced at the amount of pain he could see in Liam's eyes, hear in his voice, almost embarrassed at just how much Liam was allowing him to see. But the realization that had Liam said those very things to him six months ago, he might have heard and accepted them for what they were, but after thinking that Emma was gone forever, he understood. He understood and had felt exactly the same way. The difference was he had someone to live for...Liam hadn't, as the child Lily was carrying hadn't lived to give Liam...life.

Liam stared off into the corner of the room, seeing Emma for the first time all over again, but not willing to sugarcoat anything. "I hadn't known the extent of her injuries until then…but Killian," he took a breath, "she resembled a mummy, as her head was covered with gauze bandages to the point that all I could see were shadows were her eyes were and a small portion of her mouth." Liam hated that his words caused the look of pain on Killian's face, but then he went on and finished telling of her hand and arm injuries.

When Liam got to the part of the story about his first meeting with Emma and he heard about the bandages that encompassed her head and hands, Killian's heart shattered. The thought that his swan had been in such pain and so...broken...and all because of him...was just about too much. How could she ever want him to be a part of her life after that? How could he ever forgive himself?

Pulled from his self-recrimination, he heard Liam say, "and the first thing she did was ask about you, Killian."

To think that with all that she was enduring, she could still find it in her heart to care about his well-being was such a selfless act, but intrinsic to the woman...that was Emma Swan. That behavior alone showed him how strong she really was, but knowing Emma, she probably felt the opposite; that by worrying about him she was ignoring her own needs because they were too much for her to handle. Yet...if this were so, couldn't the same be said for himself?

"Our talk was different than what I had imagined it would be," Liam remembered. "She was different. And then when her doctor arrived and started answering questions, I couldn't stay uninvolved." His confession, as painful as it was to relive, continued, "I actively found myself wanting to help her, wanting to make things easier for her, and so I quizzed the doctor until it was time for him to remove the bandages...then I stepped outside into the corridor."

As he told his story, Liam found he couldn't look at Killian too often, as the pain he saw on his brother's face hurt too much. That in thinking he was protecting him, he had caused unimaginable suffering. "As I waited for her exam to be complete, I found myself wanting to be wrong about everything. I kept thinking that perhaps, as Nemo had said, just as she had saved you, maybe she could save all of us. Help us heal. Help us be a family again." His voice faded as he allowed Killian a few minutes to process everything.

Liam's mention of Nemo made Killian curious about that conversation, but he knew what was said was true. Emma's love had been vital in his growth and his ability to learn to put other's needs before his own. That was evident by the fact that he was here, in New York City...and Henry was his...when he could have been somewhere far away, living the life of an aging vagabond.

"What exactly did the doctor say about her injuries, Liam?"

"They were bad." Liam shut his eyes, thinking about the doctor's description.

"Tell me," Killian whispered, not really wanting to hear, but needing to know the consequences of his actions. "I remember trying to get a look at her when I was still trapped in the car and all I saw...in the place of her beautiful face...was blood. I thought right then that she was gone."

Liam couldn't help rubbing his hand over his heart, hoping he could ease some of the discomfort that retelling these events brought forth. He wished with almost everything inside that they could go back to a time when putting a band-aid on Killian's hurt knee was all his brother needed to heal. But then...he looked at Elsa, who had stretched out next to him, but was still watching him with gentle eyes, giving him comfort and support for the next part.

"The blood on her face was from flying glass, which was why the bandages covered her head, initially, and according to Doctor Nolan, an injury that would require only a minor procedure to fix." Knowing there was no easy way to tell the rest, Liam gritted his teeth and waded in, speaking quickly. "She had broken her jaw in several places, which required it to be wired shut. Her cheekbone was shattered, some teeth had been knocked out and she had broken her right arm," he finished breathlessly, and stopped to allow Killian a moment to review what he had shared.

Every word that came from Liam's mouth reverberated around inside his head until, leaning forward, Killian covered his face with his hands. He wanted to scream shut up, over and over, but knew that wouldn't help get to the truth. That wouldn't help the pain because as much as this hurt him to hear, it didn't scratch the surface of what his swan had endured. "Recovery?" he managed to ask.

"I asked what she would require and was told that she would need surgeries to repair her cheekbones after her jaw healed. Surgery to replace her teeth. A procedure on her skin, possibly therapy on her arm, and that was if nothing went wrong." And the worst possible thing had gone wrong, he thought as she had completely lost her way. "Doctor Nolan gave me a list of seven or eight different types of doctors and told me her recovery could possibly take six months or more."

Liam picked up a picture that had been taken for Killian's first birthday, looking at how happy his parents had been and how much they had loved their boys. Family, he thought, it's all about family. "I asked the doctor what he would have done, had it been his family, and with no hesitation he told me about his brother and his brother's staff in Seattle."

"The doctor was that convinced Seattle was the right place for Emma?" Killian asked.

"Aye," Liam shared, "told me if I could get nurses, he would get everything started immediately. I arranged the nurses, the NID jet and transferred money to get her what she needed, and then..."

As Killian listened to Liam's story, he tried to read between the words, to see what was missing. "How much, Liam?" He finally asked, knowing his Swan and remembering how he had wanted to buy her the world, and yet she hadn't cared about that. But in this case, had she worried about what her injuries were going to mean to others? Something told him his independent lady had been not thinking of her injuries and how they affected her, but of how they would affect him.

Liam shrugged, thinking that if he would have needed to give more, he would have. "I wired $500,000 to the Doctor Nolan in Seattle to take care of everything Emma would need."

"But then," he heard Liam's voice trail off and when he closed his eyes, clenched his teeth and took a deep breath before continuing, Killian knew it was going to be bad. "It was all arranged," Liam uttered, his voice agonized, "and then she made a comment about it being your happy beginning, and god, Killian, I'm so sorry, but these words just came out of my mouth and by the time I realized how screwed up I was, it was too late.

Killian didn't know if he really wanted to hear the rest of the story because he could tell from Liam's voice that he was wrecked, but he pushed through the pain. "Tell me the rest of it. What did you do, Liam?"

Liam didn't answer right away, finally pushing up to alternately lean on a chair and then pace. "I made a deal with her, okay! There, you have it! I was so torn up inside that instead of being a decent human being and helping her, I made a bloody deal ensuring that she was across the country, alone. And by the time I'd pulled my head out of my arse, you were in a coma and she was already gone." Running out of steam, Liam dropped back onto the sofa, leaning forward onto his knees.

Killian tried to wrap his head around Liam's behavior. Had he really just heard what he thought? He wanted to say that he was surprised, but was he really? Or had he been expecting this since they had talked that day in May? Wasn't it that talk that had been instrumental in the fork their journey to a happy ending had encountered? But that it had occurred was...what? "So, you started to help her, but then what, Liam? She said something and you...oh, I don't know...snapped?" he taunted, needing to expel some of the steam rising up inside of him.

"Snapped, is a good word for it," Liam tried to explain calmly. "Her words pulled my mindset right back to Lily, and when she said those exact same words to me all I could think of was how, for years, I blindly went through life, essentially heartless...caring about no one except myself and...you," he took another quick breath before continuing, "Killian...only you. With those words I was reminded of the promise I had made to myself when I found you lying beside the train tracks. You were so still, and right then I made a vow that I would do anything...anything to keep you from being hurt." He shook his head giving a humorless laugh. "Some protector I turned out to be."

And he had, thought Killian. Liam had shouldered the responsibility for more incidences than he could count until their parent's death and then...what had happened? They had both run, but not toward each other...away.

"So, what were you planning on telling me when you came back to my room, Liam?" he barked. "Were you planning on telling me Emma was dead and out of my life for good? That's what you wanted wasn't it?"

Liam winced, but with Killian's last words, pushed himself upright. "NO!" he threw back, "that's not what I wanted! And no, I would never have told you she was dead! Cor blimey, Killian, what kind of a monster do you think I am?"

Killian watched Liam kneel in front of him, the look on his face beseeching him to understand. "I was going to tell you I had sent her to Seattle and let you decide."

Killian snorted. "You expect me to believe that? After everything you said and did..." That dossier and its contents still present in his mind. "What changed your mind?"

Liam bowed his head and murmured, "Emma...it was your Emma."

With his words, much of the anger Killian had been holding on to dissipated enough for him to ask quietly, "How?"

Liam shrugged his shoulder. "The way she handled herself and talked about you, and once my head cleared I finally," he gave a self-deprecating smile, "took a long hard look at myself and realized I didn't like the man I saw in the mirror each day."

Killian was reminded of what Nemo had said to him at the NID lunchroom, was it just yesterday? "Nemo said you had changed, but I didn't question him any further..." His thoughts turned inward as he remembered his time in the hospital after he had woken up. Had he asked Liam what he meant by his comment? Had he asked Doctor Hopper about the conversations he overheard from the hallway? No. The answer was no, he thought sadly. He had behaved exactly as Liam had for years, and that fault settled firmly on his own shoulders.

Killian watched Liam move back to the sofa, noticing for the first time how his brother's eyes lingered on the woman who had fallen asleep while they had been talking. Was she part of the reason his brother had changed, he wondered as he prepared to wade into the center of his own behavior in this entire ordeal. "I heard you talking to me, you know?" he went on quietly.

Liam's head came up. "Really?" Killian inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Doctor Hopper said you might. What else do you remember from that time?"

Killian remembered bits and pieces of what had been said around him but never full stories, which really was all he had heard from the hallway. Why then had he been so quick to jump to the conclusion that they had been talking about Emma? "Your words weren't the only reason why I came to the wrong conclusion about Emma," he grudgingly told his brother. "When I overheard some people talking about an accident on the Parkway and the death of a blonde woman and-"

"-you automatically assumed they were talking about Emma," Liam sighed. "But why didn't you ask me, little brother?"

Why hadn't he? he wondered as he felt his shoulders droop with fatigue, and then answered his own question, because he was a chicken shite and conflict had never been his thing. "I wasn't strong enough to hear the words I thought you would say to me and so I ran...again." Unable to sit still any longer, Killian moved to the mantle and stared up at the picture of the cliff. "I took Henry and we stayed close to the place where this cliff is located and I tried to heal, but I couldn't let go of Emma. She was always there." She had been there in his dreams every single night, but not in the same way as she had been that night in their apartment, just there...with him...waiting for him. "I, like you, finally looked in the mirror and decided we needed to talk, but when I got to your office yesterday..."

"I was gone."

"Aye. What happened?" Killian turned back to face Liam, waiting for him to fill in some more of the blanks.

Liam, apparently feeling just as restless as he, prowled the room. "When I picked you up at the hospital and you refused to talk to me, I could have pushed, but after our rocky few years and your health, I didn't want to risk it." Stopping close enough for Killian to see the sincerity in his eyes, he whispered, "I couldn't chance losing you again," before resuming his pacing, "and when you said you knew about Emma, I assumed you knew where she was and that's where you were going. I made plans all summer to ask for forgiveness as soon as you brought her home, but then Henry was in my office and when he said the words, 'Emma died in May,' I was stunned, and so," he paused, "I went to Seattle."

Finally, he heard the words he had been waiting for all night. "Did you see Emma? Is she ready to come home?"

"I don't know how to tell you this but-"

"-just spit it out, Liam," Killian chided, "you've not had difficulty saying other things I might not like."

"I saw Emma," he said slowly, "but Emma has amnesia," he finished so quickly that it took several seconds before the sentence was fulling processed.

Killian swung around until he was facing Liam. "She doesn't remember me, our love...Henry?" Dropping back in the chair he listened as Liam filled him in on everything he had learned from Emma's doctors and how he had come away feeling completely confident that with Doctor Blanchard was where Emma was meant to be.

"Doctor Blanchard says she's remembering you, Killian," Liam told him. "She showed me a picture she had drawn on a beach and told me she remembered that song that mom and dad loved. I assumed you had played it for her."

Killian nodded, "You mean, Heaven and Earth? Aye, I sang that to her last Christmas."

"No, not that one. The other one," Liam clarified before moving across the room to dig through Elsa's bag.

"But I never..." Killian started to say he had never played the song for Emma, but then he remembered he had...sort of. She had come to him in his dream and the song had been playing over and over again. Was it possible that's where she remembered hearing it?

"Here, I've been holding this for you since May." Liam held out a clear bag and inside he could see Emma's things. "Go get her, Killian. Bring her home where she belongs."

Killian took the bag and opened it, pulling out her ring. When he looked back at Liam, he couldn't stop the tears from falling, thinking that in the time it took to fly to Seattle, he could once again have her in his arms.

Liam gave him the information on how to locate Emma's doctor and contacted the NID pilot who would have the plane ready to take off by 5:00am. He also promised that he and Elsa would take care of Henry until he returned home.

Killian knew that he and Liam had more that they needed to work through, but for now the most important thing was for him to get to Emma. After packing a bag, he walked back into the room to see his brother gently covering Elsa with a throw. "Is she part of the reason for your change?"

Liam looked back at Elsa, a small smile playing along his lips. "The change? No. A heart that once again beats? Perhaps," he finished, following him to the door.

Several things ran through Killian's mind of how to respond, but in the end he just smiled at the fact that his brother's cheeks had turned pink when he spoke about her. "I hope it works out, Liam. You both deserve to be happy," was all he said before running out the door.

~~~CS~~~

Liam watched Killian get into the elevator and with a last wave goodbye, shut the door behind him. He was tired but felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest and that, with time, his family would be okay. And he owed a great deal to the beautiful woman asleep on the sofa in the next room. How could he ever repay her for all that she had given him in their short acquaintance?

On his way back to where she lay sleeping, he stopped off in the kitchen for a bottle of water. When he spotted Killian's opened bottle of rum sitting on the counter, he thought what the hell and poured a generous wallop into a glass. Sending a silent good luck toast Killian's way, Liam tossed back the fiery liquid, its essence burning all the way down. "Still tastes like rotgut little brother," he muttered as he turned out the light and made his way to the front room where his blonde goddess was waiting.

All was quiet as he rounded the corner, and without even glancing toward the sofa he turned off all the lights, leaving only the sconces surrounding the fireplace lit. "That was beautiful to hear." She spoke so softly he thought he had imagined it until he turned to see her sitting up, a gentle smile on her face.

His first thought upon hearing her statement was bloody hell, did she hear what I said to Killian about my beating heart? Fear almost had him wishing he'd had a second glass of rum, but the memory of the way she had initiated the kiss earlier in the evening kept his feet planted. Deciding he'd just go with the flow, he met her gaze. "What was beautiful?" he asked her, slowly making his way to her side.

She folded her legs under her and leaned in his direction, the smile on her face telling him she knew exactly what he was doing. "What you said to Killian."

His face felt warm as he gave her a little smile. "You'll need to be more specific, Sweet Elsa, as I said quite a bit to Killian."

Almost nonchalantly, she dropped her hand onto his shoulder, and as her thumb hypnotically moved back and forth his heart rate sped up. "Everything, Liam. I heard it all."

"I..." Her hand moved closer to his nape causing him to momentarily lose his train of thought. "You weren't sleeping?"

Her grin turned into a full-fledged smile as her hand cupped his neck and the hypnotic thumb movement was happening against bare skin. "No, I was playing possum. I thought you two would talk more freely if you thought I was asleep. Mad?"

Was he mad? No, he was actually happy she had heard what was said because if she heard the entire story, yet still wanted to be this close to him, then maybe... "I couldn't be mad at you. You have been a true friend."

She squinted at him as if trying to read his mind. "A true friend, huh?"

"Aye."

"Liam," she leaned even closer, "only a true friend or someone who has caused your heart to beat again?"

Her light floral scent surrounded them, and she was so close he could feel her breath wafting across his lips, making him wish he could pull her across his lap and taste her mouth again. Calling on the last of his strength, he squeezed her fingers. "Oh, Sweet Elsa, I so don't deserve someone as sweet and pure as you in my life."

Elsa lifted their joined hands, kissing his fingertips. "Liam, I'm far from sweet and pure," she sighed leaning closer still. "There are things I've done to protect Anna that haven't been very nice and if she found out," she shuddered, "I just hope she never finds out." she finished quietly.

He studied her face deciding he was done pushing her away. Tugging her across his lap with one hand and cupping her face with his other, he teased her lips with his until she opened them, allowing him to sink into the kiss like he had been dreaming of for weeks. She tasted like honey, smelled like flowers, and made his heart beat so damn hard it was in jeopardy of leaping from his chest.

His body hardened and only sheer will kept his hands from roaming and the clothes from flying. When she moaned and tucked her hand between the buttons of his shirt, he knew they had to stop, for he'd not be the wanker who took her to bed before taking her on a date. Lifting his head, he pulled her against his chest, tucking her against his neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear.

She lifted her head and he could barely make out her glittering eyes. "No, Liam, don't be sorry, but I agree, this is not the place."

She clambered off his lap, tucking herself against his side with her head on his shoulder. This feels right, he thought as he tightened his arm around her, deciding a change of topic was in order, when his eyes were caught by the magic of the painting. "Did Emma paint that?" He nodded at the picture.

"She did," Elsa hummed, "it was where Killian proposed."

"Really?" He smiled tenderly and, unable to stop himself, kissed the tip of her nose. "Tell me."

"Well, it's all quite romantic," she told him. "It all started with a rock and some blue beads."

Anita's Place
Seattle, WA
Friday Early Morning

When Emma opened her eyes on Friday morning, she was tired but anxious to try to make some sense out of the chaos that surrounded her night. A pounding head didn't help, but the fact that the pains weren't sharp like the ones that often accompanied the return of a memory gave her hope that a hot shower would be the only necessary medicine. She didn't need to deal with the lethargy from pain pills on top of everything else.

Her sleep had been restless with images of rain-slicked roads, which instilled fear and pain interspersed with other images creating feelings of love, hope and the future. The dichotomy between the two sides created such an internal struggle that she found herself searching for the one person who had been there for her...keeping her safe throughout this whole ordeal but...he was nowhere to be found. Her dream lover had chosen last night to leave her alone, and while that had sucked, she had woken with a new sense of purpose. Where she chose to go with it was on her...and only her.

What had caused the change was a question that she planned on discussing with Doctor Blanchard. Was it something that had changed within her, and if so what? Or was it something that had changed externally? Or perhaps, it was both? Drawing the pictures of the man whose expressive eyes had spoken to her floated through her mind caused her to wonder if he was a catalyst in some way.

She continually asked herself if she was different and if it were possible to forget who you were on the inside. Or had the change started because her very own Captain Hook hadn't been there, his eyes telling her she was safe and his arms holding her tightly while she slept? Or was there more? She had spent the summer trying to find out who Emma Swan was, but so many of the pieces were still missing. But last night, alone, she had finally come to the realization that ultimately she needed to rely on herself for her own inner strength, which meant 'no one would save Emma Swan, but Emma Swan.'

Had she always relied on herself to solve her problems? Something told her the answer to that question was unequivocally yes, and while it might take a lot of hard work, the time was now. She had told Doctor Blanchard that she missed her life and she was determined to do everything in her power to get it back.

Since drawing was one way that she truly felt connected to Emma Swan, she pulled out her sketch pad and pencils. Without thinking, she quickly sketched a few pictures that had lingered in the front of her mind, but when she finished and looked at them, they didn't give her the satisfaction she needed. Taken separately they were still just a large rock, a necklace made of blue beads and waves crashing on a beach. Together, they were...what? Was there a deeper meaning that she was missing? And if so, how did she find the answer?

Leaving the pictures behind, she took a change of clothes into the bathroom to get ready for her appointment. While waiting for the shower to warm, she couldn't help but glance in the mirror at the remnants of the hickey her dream lover had left on Monday. It had faded from purple to light yellow but if she closed her eyes, she could still feel the weight of his body on hers. "Where did you go?" she whispered as she ran a finger back and forth over the spot. Not expecting an answer, she stepped under the warm water, hoping to wash the last remnants of her headache away.

~~~CS~~~

With her sketchbook under her arm, Emma left her room with enough time to stop by the kitchen for one of Mrs. Lucas' famous homemade bearclaws and a cup of hot chocolate. She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear anyone enter the kitchen until she heard her name and looked up into August's smiling blue eyes. "August," she exclaimed laughingly, "you scared me!"

"You were miles away just now," he observed. "Where were you?"

I'm not really sure," she told him quietly, "I was just wondering about a few of the pictures I drew earlier."

He didn't say anything right away, but then inclined his head toward the empty chair. "Do you mind?"

"No, it's fine. Have a seat." Emma took a bite of her pastry while he sat down, pulling a large envelope out of his case and laying it on the table. "Is that for me?"

He tapped his finger on top of it. "It is for you," he confirmed. "But...does Doctor Blanchard know you asked me to get these?"

"She knows," Emma told him as he scooted the envelope across the table, "but I think I'll wait until I see her to open it. What were you able to get?"

His smile was easy. "A copy of your driver's license, your social security card and a credit card."

"Why a credit card, again?" She frowned at him as she couldn't imagine why she might need a credit card. "If I need something Mrs. Lucas usually helps me get it."

He shrugged as he stood up and tossed his empty cup in the trashcan. "You never know when you might need to take a trip." He winked at Mrs. Lucas, who had just walked into the room as he walked out.

Finishing her sweet roll and drink, she cleaned up after herself and left the group home for the short walk to Doctor Blanchard's office. It seemed she had several items to bring up in her therapy session today.

Killian's Apartment
New York, NY
Friday Morning

Elsa's body was ready to wake but her mind was enjoying the dream of bring wrapped in Liam's strong arms too much to allow it. With his arms holding her tightly against his warm body and his smell surrounding them, she was exactly where she wanted to be, and it felt better than any dream she's had before. Which meant getting up and going to work could wait...for a bit anyway.

Adjusting her head a little on the pillow allowed her nose to settle perfectly in what she imagined was the notch in Liam's neck, where she could feel his heartbeat pulsing in time with hers. Wiggling her body just a little closer, she inched the pillow between her legs, just a little tighter, the realism continuing to grow until she could imagine her bare foot sliding up and down Liam's leg. With each movement, her knee was brought closer and closer to his hard body until in her dreams he moaned and covered her lips with his. But then, her subconscious reminded her, that was always where she woke up, alone...the good parts just out of reach.

Deciding the excitement of being in Liam's arms for even a small amount of time was worth the possibility of waking during the good parts, Elsa resumed rubbing her foot up...and down. Higher and higher her knee moved, closer to the spot that could be so hard, yet soft at the same time, until the rumble of his voice vibrated under her ear, startling her and causing her knee to jerk "Bloody hell, Elsa!" His hand clamped down on her knee, stopping its movement. "Give me a minute here," he groaned softly.

With the muttered exclamation, Elsa's eyes flew open, realizing that it hadn't been a dream at all, but a dream come true. "Liam, wha…" Was all she got out before the pain on his face registered and without thinking she put her hand over his...hand in apology.

His eyes darkened and the hand around her knee moved to clamp around her wrist, holding it in place. Letting a quick burst of air out through his teeth Liam whispered against her lips, "Sweet Elsa," his breath mingled with hers, "you've no idea how much I wish we were truly alone, but," a butterfly kiss landed on one corner of her mouth, "I've no desire to be caught necking on the sofa like a teenager."

Her fingers flexed against the denim and then slowly her hand moved to fist in his shirt. "Are you saying you've been caught before?" She grinned up at him demurely.

She could barely make out his facial expression in the low light of the room, but when his brow lifted as she had seen Killian's do dozens of times, she had to bite her tongue to keep from giggling.

"A gentleman never kisses and tells," he murmured.

He had shown her so many sides of himself tonight that Elsa found herself wondering which side of him was real. "Just who are you, Liam Jones?" She squinted at him while trying to read his mind.

She had a quick view of his eyes widening with what could only be described as delight before he moved closer to whisper against her mouth, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

There was no thought of denying what they both needed and before he could move away, Elsa answered, "Perhaps, I would," and then closed the distance that separated her mouth from his.

His lips were hot and sexy and with every movement of them across hers, her heart raced faster and faster. Liam palmed her butt, tugging her closer to his hard body, and the knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him was almost more than she could handle...almost. Not wasting anymore time, Elsa allowed herself to sink into the kiss, forgetting where they were, her focus on him, only on him and how good it felt to be where she was.

"Elsa," she heard, as if through a hazy fog, "Elsa."

Liam groaned with frustration, as she buried her face against his chest. "Bloody hell," she heard him mutter quietly, before a little louder, "Henry, my lad, you're up."

"I'm up," she heard Henry answer. "Where's Killian and why are you and Elsa on the sofa?"

Elsa turned her head to try to see Henry's face, but thankfully it was still relatively dark in the room, giving her hope he hadn't seen too much. "Henry, are you hungry?" she asked him, thinking a change of subject might give her, and Liam, a little bit of time to regroup.

"A little," he started before continuing with, "Can I go look to see what we have?" and ran off down the hallway as soon as she nodded her head.

Once he was gone, Elsa slowly turned her head back Liam's way. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine, but," he kissed her softly, "we really need to have that talk."

"Agreed," her smile was shy, "but now..."

"I need to decide how to tell Henry about Emma."

Elsa slid into a standing position. "I'll go feed Henry and give you a moment, okay?"

He reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers. "Thank you. I'll just be a few minutes."

~~~CS~~~

Liam watched Elsa leave the room and as soon as he had his raging hormones under control, locked himself in the powder room and stared at the image looking back at him. It was as if he were looking at a stranger for, he hadn't seen this man in years. Same brown hair, same chin, but the mouth...that was different. The mouth in the mirror wasn't set in a hard line; it was curved into a smile. And the eyes were different too, as they were sparkling, almost as if they were hiding a secret. What could they be hiding, he wondered...

Was it happiness?

Was it love?

Or perhaps it was both.

Splashing water on his face, he tried to decide the best way to tell Henry that the woman he had spent the last three months thinking was dead, was actually alive. Would he scream and cry? Would he kick and yell? Would he be mad? Would he understand? Liam wasn't sure what to expect, but preparing to tell that little boy about Emma was a far more frightening prospect than telling Killian.

Killian...he knew.

Killian...he understood.

But Henry? He was a child and children, well...you just never knew.

After he left the powder room, Liam followed the sound of chatter and walked into the kitchen to see Henry standing next to Elsa, a towel tucked into the front of his pajama bottoms, stirring something in a bowl.

Elsa looked up and smiled. "We're making waffles. Are you hungry?"

"Waffles?" He looked over Henry's shoulder at the lumpy white batter in the bowl. "Looks delicious," he remarked as his gaze zeroed in on her lips.

Henry looked up at him with a grin. "How many do you want, Uncle Liam?" was asked before he turned back to the task of helping Elsa as he handed her some of the batter in a cup.

"I'm not sure, Henry. How about I start with one?" Liam's hope at the moment was that he could not only get it past the lump in his throat, but keep it down.

Needing to keep busy, Liam made coffee and poured juice, and even though he opened and closed his mouth several times, he was no closer to telling Henry the news than he was when he had first walked into the room.

What is wrong with me? he asked himself when he realized he'd rather stand in front of a large group of business men than be here trying to explain to a kid how screwed up adults could be sometimes. And watching how comfortable Elsa was with Henry brought back the guilt from earlier, as getting to know his new nephew was yet another miss on his list of screw ups. When Killian returned, Liam vowed to spend more time with his brother and new family, that was if they were still talking to him. No time like the present, he decided as he was given a plate holding a waffle smothered in syrup. "Henry," he began, "there's something I need to tell you."

Henry stopped in front him, a serious look on his face. "I know you have something to tell me, Uncle Liam," Henry glanced longingly at his waffle, "but is Killian okay?"

Liam put his hand on Henry's shoulder, "Oh lad, aye, Killian is just fine...maybe even better than fine. This is something else."

A huge grin filled his face. "Well, now that I know Killian is okay, can it wait 'til after we eat? I'm really hungry."

Liam felt both of his brows shoot up in surprise. "Uh, sure, we can wait."

Giving Elsa a huge smile, Henry set his plate on the table, climbed on a chair and proceeded to pour chocolate chips all over his waffle before then smothering it in syrup and dousing it with whipped cream. Liam grimaced at Elsa, noticing she too had wrinkled her nose up in distaste. "You're going to eat that?" he asked Henry incredulously.

Stuffing a huge bite in his mouth, Henry grinned around the pastry, chocolate and syrup and nodded. "It's so good," he exclaimed, stuffing his mouth again. "Try it."

There was no way he was going to add the chocolate and whipped cream to his already sugary sweet meal, but unable to say no, Liam cut a large bite and stuffed it into his mouth. "You're right," he agreed with Henry, "it's good."

"Told you so," Henry giggled as he cut another piece.

A family, thought Liam. I could get used to this.

Office of Doctor Mary Margaret Blanchard
Seattle-Grace Hospital
Seattle, WA
Friday Morning

Mary Margaret checked the clock for the hundredth time and wondered yet again how seeing Liam might have affected Emma. Had it triggered any memories? Had there been any adverse reactions? The brain was such a mystery that anything was possible.

She also wanted to be prepared should Emma's fiancé appear suddenly. Something told her that Liam Jones had gone home and finally had the long talk with his brother that should have happened months ago. And if the brother appeared, how would Emma react? Would she be as happy as she had been to see her dream lover, or would she be upset that he hadn't been close all along? Yet more questions than answers.

Mary Margaret wasn't sure what had alerted her that Emma had arrived, but looking up she saw her patient standing in the door, her ever present sketch book in her arms, along with a large brown envelope. She looks different, was her first thought as Emma stood just inside the door waiting to be welcomed inside. She seemed more sure of herself, more comfortable in her own skin. "Emma, come in." She beckoned to their favorite chairs in the room. "How are you today? Any new memories?"

Emma tilted her slightly to the side, smiling softly. "Not much, really. Just the usual...more questions."

"Okay," Mary Margaret said hesitantly, "but you look different. More," she shrugged her shoulders, "confident, I guess is the word I want. Something happened, didn't it?"

Emma studied the floor for several seconds before once again meeting her eyes. "He didn't show up last night." she said softly, her fingers constantly running up and down the edges of her sketchbook. "And I realized that I had gotten too comfortable relying on his nightly visits. She's talking about her dream lover, Mary Margaret thought as Emma continued. "I need to take more of an active role in my healing, Doctor Blanchard, because no one saves Emma Swan, but Emma Swan." Emma dropped the sketchbook and envelope on the table and leaned forward, "Does that make any sense?"

After looking at the images of Liam that Emma had drawn last night, Mary Margaret had known that the time for the swan to fly home was quickly approaching, but now that it was here, she had to blink rapidly several times to get her emotions under control. "It makes perfect sense, Emma. Having people around to support us is important, but ultimately whom we choose to be is on us." She reached over and squeezed Emma's hand. "How can I help?"

When Doctor Blanchard didn't tell her she was nuts for thinking she could do it on her own, Emma felt some of the tension drain from her body. "Why now?" She frowned. "Am I different inside or are things different around me? What changed?" She blurted it all out, anxiously hopeful that the woman who had been so supportive could help her answer some of the questions that seemed to be piling up.

"We've talked about why you couldn't remember your life, right?" the doctor asked her quietly.

Emma nodded her head. "That there wasn't a physical reason? Yes."

"And...?" she was prodded for more.

Emma rolled her eyes and grinned. "Fear," she wrinkled her nose, "but what could have been so scary that I ran?"

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret smiled, "there are all types of fear besides just the obvious ones. We are the people we are because of where we come from and the things we've experienced."

Emma thought about what she said for a few seconds. "So possibly something from my past was the reason behind my fear?"

"Perhaps." Mary Margaret laughed when Emma rolled her eyes again at her cryptic answer. "It could be as simple as fear of happiness because you don't think you deserve to be happy or something as complex as fear of worrying you'll screw things up. We're all different but I think deep down we all want the same things, like happiness and love, but I also believe we're all worried we'll screw it up. It's how people handle conflict that makes us all unique."

Had that been her problem? Emma wasn't sure but was ready to find out. "And my dream lover?" she asked, "Where did he come from and why did he leave?"

As she was always wont to do, Mary Margaret turned the table on her. "What do you think?"

What did she think? Emma asked herself as she thought about the man who appeared in her dreams and how he made her feel, but when she drew him, he was a fairytale character. "Well, Captain Hook isn't real, but the feelings emanating from him felt real…" her voice trailed off, "...but do you think there's a man out there that loves me?"

Nicely done, Emma, Mary Margaret congratulated her patient silently before answering, "I would bet on it."

Emma tilted her head as she thought about the doctor's answer. "But...if that's true then…where is he?"

And here we go, thought Mary Margaret. "Perhaps, he's on his own journey and working his way back to you just..."

"...as I'm working my way back to him." Emma finished.

"Exactly. And now that you've come so far in your journey, including regaining your inner strength, you no longer need your pirate to keep you safe in your dreams.

"I miss him." Emma sighed wistfully, almost as if she could have been thinking about someone else.

The ease with which she was saying goodbye to her safety net was indeed a good sign toward her recovery and wanting to give reassurance, Mary Margaret quietly reiterated, "Perhaps there's another you love in the life you have lost."

Emma gave her a contemplative smile and then as if making a decision, bent over and picked up her sketchpad holding it close to her chest. "I thought maybe..."

When she hadn't finished what she was saying after a few seconds, Mary Margaret gently pushed, "What's the matter, Emma? You've never had difficulty sharing with me before."

And with that little push, Emma opened up and began telling Doctor Blanchard about her jumbled dreams of the night before, and using the doctor's suggestion to help put them into perspective. If an image scared her to the point where her mind wanted to shy away, she would stand back and view it like a picture show. That way she was the one in control and as long as she felt in control, the images couldn't hurt her. Using that strategy, she was able to flip through the images that caused pain rather quickly and move to the other ones that made her feel positive things...like those that spoke of love...hope...and most importantly, the future.

Once Emma felt as if she had a good handle on dealing with her dreams, she decided it was time to ask Doctor Blanchard about the pictures that had lingered the longest in her mind. Opening her sketchpad, she stared down at the three images she had made earlier that morning, hoping to get a memory of how they were connected or why. One thing she definitely knew about them was that when they floated through her mind, they brought feelings of love and hope, making her think that wherever they were located, was a place that was important in her life.

Emma found herself worrying her bottom lip as she studied them. "I'm...I'm just not sure," she confessed hesitantly.

Doctor Blanchard tilted her head slightly as she studied Emma's face. "You're not sure about what, Emma? You're not sure your drawings mean anything?"

"I'm not sure they're worth getting excited over," she finally admitted out loud. "They just seem to be so...I don't know...arbitrary."

Mary Margaret wondered where all the hesitation was coming from, especially with her new-found confidence, but she needed Emma to completely trust her. "Tell me what I can do to help."

Emma couldn't get the thoughts out of her head about how she had felt when she woke up, and looking down at the pictures, that feeling hadn't changed. "I do want your help." She picked up the first picture and handed it over.

Mary Margaret looked down at the picture and then back up at Emma with a slight frown between her brows. "You drew a rock?"

Emma nodded and handed her a second picture. "Yes, and a necklace made of blue beads." And then she handed the last sketch to the doctor.

It was a simple scene of waves crashing onto a beach, but the way the beach ended created a different feel than the beach where Emma was hugging the pirate. This one could very well have been the bottom of a cliff or a hill, but not wanting to put images into Emma's mind, Mary Margaret didn't say anything. Trying to keep her expression neutral, she looked up from the drawings. "You remember a rock, a necklace, and waves crashing onto a beach, but have no idea how they are connected, right?"

With her words, Emma relaxed. "Exactly," she acknowledged, "but I know there was more, except for some reason I can't quite grasp it. Do you think you can help?"

Doctor Blanchard just kept watching her carefully and evidently approved of what she saw as she gave a little nod. "Let's try a little imagery, alright?"

She tried leading Emma around each of the pictures, looking to come up with ways that they might be connected, but after several failed attempts, all Emma felt was a headache. "Nothing connects, Doctor Blanchard," she told her dejectedly.

"Don't give up, Emma...but," she emphasized the word, "don't push too hard. Often the things we need to remember come when we least expect them."

Emma gave a slight nod and tucked the drawings back inside her sketchpad before holding up the envelope. "August came by Anita's Place earlier today and...gave me this."

She held it out to Mary Margaret as if it were a ticking bomb, and once she was no longer holding it in her hands she eyed it warily, as if the information it held was something to be afraid of. "Do you want me to open it?"

"Please," Emma nodded, holding her hands tightly together.

Unhooking the envelope, Mary Margaret dumped the contents onto her palm. "He got a copy of your license, a credit card and your social security card."

Emma took the social security card and the credit card and looked them over. Nothing out of the ordinary she didn't think, but then the Doctor held up the driver's license. Emma could tell that her picture was on it, which meant she was going to see what she had looked like before the accident. Would she look different or the same?

"Are you ready for this, Emma?" Mary Margaret asked, concerned that seeing her picture before the accident or her home address would cause pain.

Emma nodded and taking the license, gazed at the face similar to hers, but not the same. The face on the license was fuller, its cheekbones less pronounced and the teeth not as pretty, but it was her. When she realized that, tears sprang to her eyes, but they were accompanied by big smile. "It's me," she sighed happily.

Mary Margaret agreed, "It is. But," she frowned a little, "whom did you expect?"

Emma was still studying her face. "I'm not sure. I guess," she shrugged her shoulders, "since I feel differently, I assumed I'd look different too. And this," she ran her finger along the embossed card, "is my address?"

"It is," Doctor Blanchard agreed.

"I'm from..." her eyes met Mary Margaret's, "Boston?" Both brows went up as she studied the address located on the street where she lived, but of which she had no recollection. "I don't recognize it, but I feel like I should."

"Emma, these pieces of your old life provide a little independence to you, however I don't anticipate you ever having to deal with them on your own. Do you have any questions?"

"No." a slight headache was working its way through her head and she didn't want to push too hard. "I think I'd like to look them over some more and talk about them later."

That was abrupt and not expected, thought Mary Margaret, but Emma's eyes had glassed over and she was a little pale. "Just relax and don't push, promise?"

"I promise." Quickly sticking the cards back inside the envelope, Emma said her goodbyes and left the office.

Mary Margaret watched her go and jotted a quick note to call her later in the afternoon, as she was a little worried about her. Her fear was that something big would happen with Emma's memory and if that happened, with Emma's returned confidence, who knew where that might lead?

NID Private Jet
Somewhere Over the US
Friday Morning

Killian had given up on sleep, finding it impossible to settle his mind. All he could think about was holding Emma in his arms again. They had lost so much time, loving each other, learning how to be a couple and depend on each other. And yet mistakes were still made, and after missing her all summer long he was finally looking inside himself to see what he needed to do to grow up and become the man that Emma needed. After everything he had gone through since May, he really wanted to lay the blame totally at Liam's door, but to do that wasn't fair. And while he couldn't completely exonerate Liam from the fiasco that this had become, the same could be said for himself. There was plenty of blame to go around and while he hadn't known the whole story when Emma had come to him in his dream Monday, now her words made much more sense.

"What's done is done. We need to do what we do best, my love. Fight for each other...together.

Together, he thought. That was the key element in getting the happy ending he wanted for all of them. One of them couldn't do it for the other, but they had to work as a unit, and the unit no longer just involved him and Emma, but also Henry and Liam...and possibly Elsa.

Killian vaguely remembered the long-ago train incident Liam had mentioned, and while he couldn't recall exactly what punishment had been handed down, Liam had taken the blame. Admitting that Liam had, indeed, shouldered more than his share of responsibility for his own misdeeds as a lad wasn't something new for him. But this he was determined that he would not fall back into the habit of letting it happen. Once Liam had started to take on the responsibility for the wrongs in his life, allowing it to continue had been easy, until their parents' death when Liam could no longer be blamed. After their service, Killian hadn't felt strong enough to handle his feelings of helplessness and had slunk away like a prat and then very nearly stalked the family that had caused his parents' death before almost flunking out of school. Ultimately, it had been Liam who had somehow gotten through his thick skull and had pulled him back far enough from the edge so he could graduate. But even then, he hadn't been ready to take on the responsibility of adulthood, and so once again, what had he done? Run.

"See a pattern, here, Jones?" He mumbled, draining the last of his morning coffee and moving the breakfast tray aside.

He ran...through Europe...through feelings...through women...with only his best mate Robin by his side, somehow keeping him from sliding too far into a bottle and ending up washed up on the side of the road.

And yes, once he'd heard that Lily and Liam had split up, he'd tried to help his brother, but with Liam not willing to accept help and him not willing to push...the pattern was there.

Have a problem.

Close yourself off.

Don't talk.

Don't listen.

Run.

"And where did that get you?" he mumbled before answering his own question. "Alone."

Exactly. And then?

Liam had reached out and eventually Killian and Robin had made their way to Boston and he had met the love of his life.

From the first time he had heard her laugh she had captured his attention, and while it had taken months before he had found her, the first time he held her in his arms at The Burren had certainly been worth the wait.

He pulled her closer until they touched from chest to thigh, and her eyes widening slightly told him that she could feel exactly how she affected him. "Unforgettable," he took a quick breath and went for it. "From the moment we met, not a day has gone by that I've not thought of you, Emma."

And her whispered, good, had caused his heart to soar, and there had been no question of if he would fall in love, as he had already fallen and fallen hard. Their courtship had been something from a fairytale, from kisses, walks, movies, and each time he kissed her sweet lips, saying goodbye became more difficult until he often woke hard and hurting from spending time with his dream lover.

Taking things to the next level had been tricky, as initially they had been waiting for the right time and then there had always been something or someone in the way. By the time the Halloween Party had arrived, he was tired of his hand and her low-cut bar wench gown created needs that could only be satisfied one way.

He had scouted the perfect spot to spirit her away to, and had proceeded to get up close and very personal with her soft, pink girly parts.

"Emma, this is not how I envisioned our first time together," he sighed into her mouth, "but I don't think I can wait."

She moaned in agreement, "Hurry, please hurry," she begged as he scooped her up, pinning her against the door.

And then, he remembered, Ruby had arrived and they had once again been interrupted until...he grinned, deciding that reliving their first time in the broom closet was a memory he would save for a later time. Skipping over the memories that made him needy, he thought about those that just made him happy, like the Holiday Ball and their first Christmas together, and then Henry and getting engaged. Perfect, everything perfect, he thought, bringing Emma's ring out of his pocket to imagine sliding it on her finger once again.

With Emma, every moment was special in its own way and every moment with her easy. Their relationship lacking conflict, easy for them...and through their relationship, his pattern for handling conflict didn't change. In his own way he had run.

Liam refused to meet him.

He had responded by ignoring it and assuming it would go away.

Liam refused to acknowledge that his brother was in love and going to get married.

Killian dreamed that Liam would cause problems for his relationship and he had taken Emma and run.

He heard Liam say something that he assumed meant Emma had died.

He had ended up comatose.

Liam had wanted to talk.

He had refused to listen and shut himself away with Henry for months.

But over the summer he had changed and much of it could be attributed to Henry. The boy had come into his life because of someone from Emma's past, but that wasn't why he had stayed. He had stayed because the three of them had become a family, and without Emma he had relied on Henry, just as Henry relied on him. Someone had needed to be the adult at that moment, too bad it just hadn't come sooner.

But he was done running. He was done not listening when there was conflict. His promise had been broken, but once he found his swan, he was slipping the ring back on her finger and it was never coming off.

And I promise to always be there when you need me and to never, ever say goodbye to you.

"It might not be the ends of the earth, Swan, but here I come," he whispered, lightly kissing the diamond before tucking it safely back into his pocket. Reclining in the seat, he felt his body relax, allowing him to drift off hoping that his Emma would be waiting for him in his dreams.

Killian's Apartment
New York, NY
Friday, Noonish

Liam wiped down the cabinet, hung the cloth over the faucet and dried his hands. Breakfast was over, the kitchen put back to rights and when Henry returned from dressing there would be no more reasons to wait. He poured himself another cup of coffee, leaned back against the counter and tried to decide the best way to handle the situation.

~~~CS~~~

Elsa hated leaving Liam alone too long, but she had learned the Henry lesson the hard way, and now, over two hours later, she was still waiting for him complete the 'getting ready' process that even she, as a female, could accomplish in less than half the time.

It had started out simple, at least in theory, when after he had finished his waffles with sticky syrup, chocolate and whipped cream and had been sent off to wash up. Twenty minutes later when he hadn't returned, she had gone looking for him.

"Henry?" Elsa called when she hadn't found him in his bedroom as expected.

His "I'm in here," from behind a closed door gave her a little concern, but not as much as when she had opened the door and almost slipped on the wet floor. Henry, on the other hand, had no concerns at all as he was sitting in a bathtub full of water that was overflowing with bubbles.

"I didn't know you were going to take a bath, Henry." She grabbed a towel off the rack and tried to mop up some of the water.

He gave her a sheepish grin and shrugged, "You said clean up," before resuming playing with his boats and whatever else could find.

Letting out a sigh, Elsa picked up the wet towel, spread a dry one on the floor and gave him a time limit of ten minutes and took the sopping wet towel to the laundry room.

His ten-minute bath had turned into forty-five, with another fifteen to get him out and wrapped in his robe.

Once she had gotten him into his robe, she sent him to his room thinking he should be dressed in fifteen minutes, however twenty minutes later, she found him sitting on his bedroom floor, still dressed in his bathrobe building something with his Legos.

"Henry," she really tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice, "you aren't dressed."

He looked up from his construction with what could be interpreted as a surprised look on his face. "Oops?"

"Oops?" She worked to keep her voice level. "Where are your clothes?"

He dropped his blocks and picked up his jeans and shirt, holding them aloft proudly. "Here. I picked them out all by myself."

"I can see that. Now," she mimicked getting dressed, "think you can put them on by yourself?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Sure, Elsa. I'm not a baby."

And, as she had suspected, ten minutes later he only had his socks and underwear on and was playing on his DS.

Fifteen minutes later, he had only added his jeans, but still no shirt and she found him tossing a small ball into a basket that was hanging on the wall.

She had stayed, watching him pull his shirt on, but after he had pulled it down, they discovered a large stain on the front of it. "Henry, I thought you said this shirt was clean."

He studied the stain and before she could stop him, he had smelled it and then swiped his finger through it and tasted it. "I remember now," he grinned at her, "I dropped ketchup on it and, well…" He shrugged his shoulders as if that answered everything.

"I see," even though she has no clue what he was talking about, but didn't want anything else to slow them down. She helped him pull it over his head, toss it in the dirty clothes basket and find a new one. "Now, did you brush your teeth when you were in the bathroom?"

Henry gave her a quizzical look. "You told me to get dressed." His voice was long suffering as he sauntered into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Elsa shook her head indulgently. "I'll meet you in the front room." After hanging his robe on the hook in his closet, she went looking for Liam.

~~~CS~~~

As soon as she was out of sight, Henry picked up his new electric toothbrush, squeezed his bubblegum toothpaste on the brush, added a little water and pushed the button. The vibration from the bristles threw the water droplets everywhere, some landing on his face, others on the mirror and the blob of toothpaste...his shirt. "Oops," he giggled, scooped it off, pressed off, smeared the paste back on the brush and repeated the process.

~~~CS~~~

The second, or was it the third time, Elsa stopped back to check on him, Liam had offered to help with Henry, but she had assured him that she had it all 'under control.' However, when an hour had come and gone, and he was still alone, Liam had decided that there wasn't much more he could do in the kitchen and had moved back to the front room where they had spent the night. The beautiful cliff picture still hung above the mantle, yet that wasn't what garnered his attention the minute he crossed the threshold. That honor belonged to the sofa.

The sofa where he had spent part of the night with the woman responsible for restarting his heart and who seemed to cause it to race faster each time they were together. He dropped down onto it, stretched an arm along the back and one leg up on the cushions sitting in just the right position to admire the painting. Or, if he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the weight of Elsa in his arms, smell her light floral scent surrounding him and taste her lips. And when she had started sliding her bare foot up and down his leg, her knee encountering his...parts, bloody hell, it had been closer than he'd been to heaven in forever.

His lips lifted in a smile, as without opening his eyes he knew she had entered the room. She hadn't made a sound, but as barmey as it sounded, he could sense her...almost as if there was a subtle change in the air. Slowly, he allowed his eyelids to lift, his gaze landing on her slightly disheveled hair, tired, but very beautiful face, and slightly wrinkled clothing. "Still no Henry?" he asked quietly watching her shoulders droop with fatigue.

"No," she leaned against the door frame, "he's quite easily distracted. But, he's brushing his teeth and then we should be able to have that talk."

Liam pushed up and sauntered toward her. "You know," he stopped and took her hand, pulling her slowly his direction, "you can take a little nap and I can have that talk with him."

"You don't need me?" Her eyes went wide, causing a little piece of his heart to quiver.

Unable to stop himself Liam pulled her flush against his body. "Oh, Sweet Elsa," he cupped her face, "I need you more than you could know, but..."

Elsa placed her finger over his mouth, stopping his flow of words. "No buts, Liam. I'm exactly where I want to be."

His eyes bore into hers and the air around them crackled with tension. "When Killian and Emma return, will you go out with me?"

He relaxed when a huge smile graced her face. "I would love to go out with you."

"Really?" Liam was trying to behave sensibly but his insides were jumping up and down, practically singing the Hallelujah Chorus.

"Really." She smiled shyly. "Think you can help with Henry this time?"

He chuckled at her request, pulling her into his arms for a comforting hug, thinking about how confident she had seemed earlier. Apparently, her abilities to get Henry dressed in a timely manner had been tested and this round went to the lad. "Of course. Lead the way."

"Thank you, Liam." And as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she kissed him.

Heaven, he thought, I'm in heaven.

~~~CS~~~

In the end it took both of them to make sure Henry's teeth were brushed, his second shirt of the day had been exchanged for another clean one and he was sitting next to them for their talk. "Okay, Uncle Liam. What do you need to tell me?"

Liam studied Henry's face as he gazed up earnestly and then glanced at Elsa for courage. "I'm sorry, Henry, but I'm not sure how to tell you this," he began, only to be interrupted.

"Just spit it out," Henry shrugged his boney shoulders. "It's what Sister Blue always said if I did something wrong."

"A wise woman, your Sister Blue." Liam gave him a half-smile. "Remember when you came to my office the other day?"

Scrunching up his nose, Henry nodded, "Yeah, I told Killian your eyes were sad...just like us."

That comment brought Liam's head up and once again his gaze landed on Elsa. Swallowing the lump that kept getting bigger in his throat, he turned back to Henry. "Aye, little lad, I've missed my brother."

"Yeah," Henry nodded his head, "I knew there were," he made air-quotes with his fingers, "‛issues' between you two."

A laugh burst forth before he could stop it. "Oh? How did you know that?"

Henry stared off, his expression turning sad. "I might have overheard something, but that you and Killian would be friends again was one of the last things I told Emma. I just wish she was here to see it happen."

Liam rubbed his hand over his face as that innocent comment acted as another reminder of the arsehole he had been to Killian and Emma. "That's what I want to talk to you about, Henry...Emma. See, I thought Emma was your mum..."

He took a breath to continue only to be interrupted by a single word, "Why?" and as much as he wanted to come clean about everything, he didn't think Henry would understand the investigator. Hell, he didn't even understand, and from the look on Elsa's face she was curious to know what the story was too. Later, he tried to convey to her with a simple look.

She blinked and sent a sweet smile his way. I trust you, it seemed to say, causing the breath he had been holding to slowly leak out.

Unknowingly he winced and wasn't sure how to get out of his predicament until Henry saved him yet again. "Grown up stuff?" As soon as Liam nodded his head, Henry continued, "That's okay, Uncle Liam. You can tell me when you're ready."

"Why Henry, that's very grown-up of you," Liam thanked him for that tiny reprieve.

"I know," Henry agreed with a smile. "Sister Blue says I'm precocious."

"I can see that. But let me try again." He shook his head. "In my office when you told me that Emma was dead, I didn't know why you would think that. I thought Killian had been with her all summer in Seattle," he finished breathlessly.

Henry didn't say anything for a few seconds, but Liam could tell by the expressions moving across his face that his message had been received. "Emma's alive?" he asked cautiously.

"Aye, Henry. Emma's alive and Killian is on his way to get her and bring her home."

Slowly, the lad's face broke into a smile and, as if not quite believing Liam, turned to Elsa. "Did you know?"

She shook her head. "No, Henry. Liam just told me the story last night when he got back from Seattle."

"So," he looked back at Liam, "you knew she was alive, but Killian, and everyone else," he added incredulously, "thought she was dead?"

Without getting into areas that he had no clue how to explain to a child, Liam answered honestly, "Aye."

Henry's smile made Liam feel as if the sun had come from behind the clouds and warmed him. "Alright," he fist pumped before launching himself into Liam's arms.

Tears sprang to his eyes as, without hesitation, his arms closed around the little body and his heart that had only recently resumed beating filled with a love that was so pure and powerful that if it was a dream he hoped he never had to wake.

Henry released him and sat back. "You know, Uncle Liam, if you would have just talked to Killian this wouldn't have happened." Liam shot a surprised glance Elsa's way and shrugged when she just raised a brow. "Now, if we're done, can I go play?"

He scampered off the sofa, and on his way out of the room Liam heard him whisper, "Geez, adults don't know anything," leaving two very bemused ones behind.

"That was..." He had no words to express the way he was feeling.

"Special," Elsa answered, "and you, Liam Jones, are a very special man."

"You make me feel that way, Elsa. Thank you for being here." He took her hand and with a little tug, she was tucked in the circle of his arms.

"I'm where..."

His finger halted her speech. "Just say 'you're welcome.'"

With a tiny nod, he removed his fingers long enough to hear her say, "You're welcome," before replacing them with his lips and a more thorough show of thanks.

Anita's Place
Seattle, WA

Friday, Noonish
On the way back to Anita's Place, Emma really tried to keep her promise to Doctor Blanchard about not pushing the memories, but she couldn't keep from asking herself question after question. She had drawn several pictures that she somehow knew were important in her life and...she had an address...in Boston...on the other side of the country. So why then was she here...in Seattle?

Thankful that Mrs. Lucas hadn't been around when she returned, Emma climbed the steps to her room. Turning on the song that had been continuously on her mind since Monday, she spread the pictures out before her, and as the music poured from the speakers she let her mind wander.

Say goodbye,
Why I can barely say goodnight
If I can hardly take my eyes from yours
How far can I go?

As Emma listened to the words, more images flashed through her mind. Some meant nothing, others were scenes that she had drawn before and then…he was there. She remembered sitting at a table, surrounded by others and he was singing, but what, she wasn't sure and then suddenly as if it were yesterday, she heard:

"Ruby, you see the resemblance too, right? I'm not dreaming, am I?

"I see it. You know what this means, right? It's fate. He's your destiny."

"My destiny?" she repeated, rifling through the work she had drawn in the last month and there he was...her dream lover. Standing behind a microphone stand, one hand holding the mike...and the other wrapped around the stand, but...not a hand at all...a hook. "Captain Hook is my fate? My destiny?" It made no sense and so she shoved it aside and went back to studying the rock and the necklace and the beach scene with the waves.

Walk away
The thought would never cross my mind
I couldn't turn my back on spring or fall,
Your smile, least of all

Emma let the song play through a few times until another scene formed in front of her eyes. She was standing on a beach, a bag holding her art supplies in one hand and a towel or beach blanket tossed over the other arm. She could see the sand stretching for miles in both directions and the rolling waves covering the sand, but the fact that the beach was empty made her think it was fall or winter.

In her memory she was sketching, and when the scene was revealed she wasn't really surprised that she had drawn a schooner in the distance flying a pirate flag, and closer, on the beach, a pirate, apparently Captain Hook, locked in a steamy embrace with a blonde.

"And you stayed with me, didn't you, Captain?" she whispered to the picture of the embracing couple she had sketched earlier in the week. But when the couple in the picture talked back, she knew the words were ones she had heard before, but the when and where, she couldn't quite grab hold of...

"I've missed you so much, Captain." she whispered against his shoulder.

"And I you." He tightened his hold around her trembling body, binding their bodies closer together just as their souls were bound, for together they were stronger. "I'm sorry, Emma. I never meant to leave, but..."

"Shh," she laid her finger on his lips. "Mistakes were made by all."

A dull ache was starting to form behind her eyes, but unwilling to give up just yet, Emma hit play and let the song play all over again.

When I say always
I mean forever
I trust tomorrow as much as today
I'm not afraid to say, I love you,
And I promise you, I'll never say goodbye

With the last line of the song, one word stuck, echoing over and over...promise...promise...promise, until a sentence coalesced in her mind.

I promise you that I will never forget these beads and our promise to each other and what they stand for.

And as if she were watching it happen on a video, she saw the beads being dropped into a shallow hole and the rock pushed back into place. Emma grabbed the drawing of the blue beaded necklace and ran her finger around each bead, imagining how they felt...smooth glass or were they made of stone? Around and over each bead her finger flew, trying to grasp the memory as it tickled the edges of her mind.

And then suddenly, as if a Polaroid photo was developing before her eyes, it was there. Dropping the picture of the beads, she flipped through her sketchbook for a clean page and drew an image, an image that had to be important to the discovery of her identity as Emma Swan.

Holding the sketch up in front of her, Emma once again could see the rock being rolled away and the beads placed beneath. Her finger trailed the simple lines of the cliff, the trees and the path, wondering where the place was and how she had gotten there. Had she walked? Or...had she been in a car?

Had she walked along the beach and then climbed up the cliff? Had she walked along a road and then turned on the path? Or...

And then she saw it.

An answer...

A sign that called to her.

Leading her to that place.

The place where promises were made.

The sign read...

Fort Williams State Park.

Thoughts? Likes? Dislikes? Tears? Expectations for the next chapter? It pops up next week. It appears that there will be a total of 26 chapters to this story. Just a few more weeks.