A/N: I hope you guys are interested in this story. Last chapter was to set the scene...now things will start to actually happen. But it will be a slow burn! Ha!

PLEASE let me know what you think? x

A loud ringing abruptly broke the silence of the room as Emma awoke to shards of sunlight beaming through the gaps in the curtains. Throwing an arm over her head, she attempted to block out the intrusion, until finally giving in and grasping aimlessly towards the source of the noise. As fingers closed around the phone on her nightstand, she swiped to answer without bothering to open her eyes and her voice creaked in its morning adjustment. She inwardly groaned as her mother's overly awake voice bounced across the line.

Emma had never been one for mornings. She held the phone at arm's length and opened her eyes to squint at the screen, finding the numbers that proclaimed it to be 7am. She let out a small involuntary sigh at being woken so early on her day off as she put the phone back to her ear. Her body she felt was clearly protesting being awoken as she felt a tightness in her chest. She forced herself to sit up to try to alleviate the pain.

"No, Mom." Emma sighed with a bleary morning confusion. "Why would I have Neal's teething ring?"

She was glad that her mother was on the other end of the phone and not infront of her when she couldn't quite hide the frown of disappointment and slight annoyance that flickered over her features. Of course the conversation would be about something like this.

"No. It's definitely not here." Emma confirmed as her mother continued to press the subject, with growing concern. "Mom, I don't think Neal's even…" she was cut off in her words to state that her brother had never even been to her apartment, as her mother cut across her.

"It's my day off. I'm not going to check the station," Emma retorted distractedly as she raised her free hand to rub a palm across her chest. The pressure there was intensifying, as though nails were scraping through the inside of her ribs.

"Unless Neal's suddenly decided to become Sheriff, or I don't know, run through the streets drunk enough to earn himself a night behind bars, I really don't think his toys would have ended up in a cell or anywhere else in the station. And until he can control his own limbs enough to at least stand up on his own, I think we can discount the chances of a crime spree."

Emma could almost hear her mother's unimpressed look through the phone.

"He's a baby, Emma," Snow voiced with sharp but warm exasperation.

Emma's mind briefly wondered if the sleepless nights of motherhood had drained her mother's sense of humour, or if Snow was just more serious than Mary Margaret had been. For a fleeting moment, Emma felt a pang of loss for her best friend, despite the fact that logically she knew she was still right on the other end of the phone, in a way.

"Ok, how about when I'm out later, if I'm near the station, I'll head in and check?"

This statement seemed to somewhat appease Snow, who then began regaling Emma with tales of Neal's teething and how much porridge was currently on his spoon. Emma kept the phone pressed between shoulder and ear, only half listening to the words coming through as she ventured to step out of her bed, grasping her dressing gown and slipping into it with as much grace as the morning would afford. She wandered through into the kitchen, filling the kettle and flicking it on, rummaging through cupboards and drawers for coffee and mug as her mother's words continued, hazing into a slight blur as Emma lost focus.

Emma hummed her agreement to some unknown statement, giving the customary 'yeah's and murmurs to appease her mother, to convince her that she was still at least partially listening, as the conversation slipped into another topic which Emma was only faintly aware of. She lifted the kettle with one hand, moving her mug over on the counter with the other as the phone remained wedged on her shoulder, head pressed down onto it.

Just as Snow was absently suggesting a dinner together at Granny's, another stabbing pain shot through Emma's chest, this time managing to catch her completely off guard. The kettle jerked in her hand as her body jolted, sending a stream of boiling water over her other hand and arm. She dropped the kettle, only just managing to jump backwards, away from the water that splashed outwards, still splattering onto her bare legs. The phone fell from her ear as a pained expletive flew from her lips. Emma clutched her chest with her uninjured hand, desperately trying to regain her breath which seemed to have completely left her body. She could feel herself shaking almost violently, though whether it was due to the pain in her chest or from the various burns now blossoming on her skin, she could not be sure.

She stumbled backward slightly, fumbling for one of the kitchen chairs, managing to pull one out and sit on it quickly as she could feel her legs shaking unsteadily. She hunched over, hand still on chest, trying to steady her breathing. She could hear her name being called from somewhere distant and it took a few moments for Emma to remember the phone, which lay a few feet away on the floor, a small crack now evident in the corner of the screen.

Grabbing the phone back to her ear, shudders still running through her body, she was greeted by the panicked tones of Snow, calling her name.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Emma breathed, trying to abate her mother's worry "I just dropped the phone. Sorry." Snow wasn't convinced by this and pressed Emma on why and whether something had happened and if she was alright.

Emma couldn't help feeling warmed by the concern in her mother's voice, the care she had if Emma was in danger. Physical injury, imminent danger, they brought out Snow's need to protect her child. It was strangely when Emma felt closest to her, despite the obvious down sides to life threatening situations.

Emma slowly reassured Snow of her safety, choosing to leave out the injuries or pains that had caused her to drop the phone in the first place. There was no need to worry her mother over a few pains. Emma didn't even know what they were or why, so there was no reason to panic Snow, when she was obviously already overtired dealing with a fussy, teething baby. She briefly considered voicing that she was just in a little pain, but as she did, another wave of pain clutched her her chest. It was like vines crawling inside her ribcage, constricting her lungs, wrapping into the empty spaces. Emma's breath hitched and she squeezed the phone tighter in an attempt to steady her voice.

"Mom, I have to go. I need to meet Henry." She tried to speak calmly, but knew that she'd rushed the words just to be able to get them out. It wasn't a complete lie, she had indeed made plans to meet Henry for lunch, but Snow didn't need to know that it wasn't for another four hours. Placating her mother with a few more assurances that she was in fact fine, Emma could hear Snow accept her pacifications and hanging up the call, Emma finally let her breath shake as it needed to.

Emma sat silently as the minutes passed by, the pain in her chest slowly resolving to the dull echoing ache that had been the constant for days now. It was barely noticeable in this state, Emma had begun to become so accustomed to it. As her hands began to steady, she finally looked to the scald marks peppering her legs, just small faint red blotches, painful but superficial. Her hand and arm though were still throbbing, the burn a more angry red than on her legs and beginning to blister.

Summoning her energy, she carried herself to the shower and after turning the water to as cold as she could bear, stepped under the frigid spray. She closed her eyes, letting her uninjured hand hover over the scald on her hand and arm. Concentrating, she tried to heal the burns. When she opened her eyes, the blisters had gone, the pain had subsided and just a faint red mark was left. Emma mentally brushed it off.

Her magic had been unpredictable lately, almost as though it was weakened. She could still use it, but it was so feeble compared to the strength she was usually able to wield. Convincing herself it was merely due to the shock of the situation and the fact that she had been woken early and was most likely overtired, Emma repeated the action on the burns to her legs, before turning up the water to a comfortable temperature and relaxing beneath it.

Emerging from the shower almost an hour later, Emma shivered against the cold that lingered in the apartment. She wrapped her dressing gown more tightly around herself and resentfully set to work, facing the mess that had been made in the kitchen. She braved another attempt at making herself coffee, careful to be more alert this time and held her body far away from the hot water in case of another accident. Setting the cup on the table to let it cool slightly before she was willing to drink it, she checked her phone.

A text from Snow read on the screen. Emma opened the message, rolling her eyes as her mother wrote that she had found Neal's teething ring and hoped that Emma had a good day. She had added the suggestion of a family dinner together. Emma paused with her fingers over the screen, freezing for a mere second before shaking off the allure and typing back that she had plans, but maybe another time. She felt a small, familiar thread of guilt tug in her stomach, at lying to her mother, avoiding her, but she brushed off the feeling just as quickly.

Settling herself in front of a stack of paperwork, finally dressed and with her now sufficiently cooled cup of coffee, Emma spent the next few hours catching up on reports. It was dull work and by midday she was glad to be able to leave it to meet her son for lunch.

Pulling herself into the booth opposite Henry, Emma smiled warmly as he lifted his nose from his book to greet her.

"Hey Kid, what's got you so focused?" Emma questioned, nodding toward the book as she commented on his still full mug of hot chocolate that had seemingly been forgotten as his attention was so focused on the words in front of him.

They fell into comfortable chatter about the new stories he was reading, in an attempt to place who people could be if they were to come through from other worlds. They ordered food and began debating which superheros they could defeat in battle if any were to come through into Storybrooke. Emma lost herself in the conversation, both herself and Henry, mindlessly devouring their food in their similar unmannered ways, as they chatted. Emma tried to ignore the mild aches in her chest as she enjoyed her time with her son.

"So...how's Violet?" Emma ventured, not lifting her eyes from the last few bites of her food as she feigned nonchalance. At Henry's slight stutter she raised her eyes to him with a slight grin, looking unfairly smug for Henry's liking. She enjoyed the blush that crept up his face a little too much.

"She's fine," Henry replied, not quite managing to hide the smile that rose unbidden when he spoke about her. "We went out to the lake yesterday, you know Grumpy has a boat?" Henry excitedly began to tell Emma about how Snow and Charming had persuaded Grumpy to let the two teens take the boat onto the lake. Emma smiled as she heard the peaceful excitement leap through his voice. She couldn't help but be enraptured by her son.

"And Grandpa said we could all go out on it this weekend." Henry finished with an excitable flourish, looking expectantly at his mother. Emma's smile dropped, though she instantly tried to hide it from Henry. "You, me, Grandpa, Grandma, even Mom and Violet too maybe?"

"Umm…" Emma desperately foraged through her brain for an excuse, any plans she may have to avoid the situation at all costs. "We'll see, okay Kid?" She was at a loss. She watched Henry's expression drop and felt her heart sink instantly.

"Mom, come on," Henry's voice was pleading, "We haven't done anything together since New York. Please?"

"Kid, I have work and…" Emma was cut off when Henry interrupted her.

"Grandpa said he'd sort it so the station was covered." When Emma hesitated to reply and still looked unconvinced, Henry's brow creased in confusion.

"Is this about Hook?" He asked plainly.

Emma's eyes snapped to his face in confusion.

"What? Why would…" she trailed off.

"Well, you haven't been the same since he left," Henry edged quietly, clearly nervous about approaching the topic. "It's like you've been...not here." Henry paused to think and Emma's eyes remained focused on his, with a sad expression of concern and guilt. "And I thought maybe, because it was a boat...maybe that's why you don't want to."

"Henry, no." Emma stated honestly. "I promise you, this has nothing to do with Killian." She was surprised that Henry had even thought to bring it up, she hadn't realised that he'd jump to that conclusion when if she was honest, it hadn't crossed her mind.

"Then why won't you come?" Henry pleaded.

"I've just got really behind with work, Kid. I kind of promised to help Lily with something too and I can't go back on that okay?" Emma felt a knot of guilt building up in her abdomen as she lied to her son. She forced herself to keep eye contact with him, as if to prove she was telling the truth.

"With what?" Henry asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing at Emma, but she could see the little bubble of excitement that he was brewing, hoping that this may be some sort of 'operation'.

"Henry," Emma said in a warning tone, but kept the warmth in her eyes as she let herself smile, letting him know that she wasn't angry with him for asking. "Look, I have to go. I promised I'd drop by the station to pick up Neal's teething ring they left there."

"Can I come to yours for dinner?" Henry asked as Emma stood to leave. He stood with her allowing her to pull him into a firm hug against her chest.

"I can't, Kid. Sorry. I said I'd go to the loft for dinner tonight." This time she avoided his eyes as she pulled away, rushing a goodbye and made a hasty retreat out of the door before he could ask to join them. She felt disgusted with herself. The knot of guilt building in her stomach started twisting. She thrust her hands into the pockets of her jacket and strode home.

Henry rushed out of the diner, hoping to catch Emma, to ask her if he could go to the loft for dinner too. When he didn't see her he dashed a few paces toward the station, but the road there was empty. He turned and saw the red jacket and blonde waves in the slight distance marking a fast pace in the opposite direction. He stood, staring at her back as his mother walked away from him.

A/N: So...what's going on with Emma?

Please let me know what you think of this story! I know it's still very early on in the story but I just want to know if people actually like it or are interested in it so that I know whether to continue.

PLEASE let me know?

Also, any guesses as to what is going on?