A/N: Thank you guys SO much for the reviews and follows on this story. They really do mean the world and really help to not only motivate me, but to help me know if I'm doing ok in telling this story!

So...here's a longer chapter for you all! I really, REALLY hope you enjoy! PLEASE review, keep telling me what is good or bad. I welcome constructive criticism too!

Please also note that there will be more interaction between characters soon. I know so far it's very much been Emma mostly on her own...but as the story goes on, characters will be far more involved in the plot!

A thumping inside her skull awoke Emma in the crisp dawn of the next morning. Dry mouthed and eyes red, swollen and bleary from the mixture of tears, alcohol and sleep deprivation, she groaned and rolled over, trying to regain the relative peace of slumber. Though, blinking away the last remnants of sleep even as she buried her head in her pillow, she couldn't pretend that her sleep had been in any way peaceful. Once she had finally given in to exhaustion in the early hours of the morning, she was plagued by vivid dreams, keeping her body on high alert and under stress. She didn't feel rested at all.

Forcing her body into movement, she glanced at the phone on the nightstand. She couldn't bear to check it. She knew the string of voicemails that was waiting for her. Although with an odd pang, she also knew that they had stopped, she would have been woken had there been any more calls, and she had not. Conflicting feelings of relief, guilt and loss writhed somewhere in the region of her stomach and she lifted herself to her feet in an attempt to quell or at least ignore them.

Padding barefoot across the apartment, Emma took in the disarray that lingered from the previous night. The empty bottle of whiskey lay smashed beside the wall where she had thrown it. Avoiding the glass to protect her bare feet, Emma paused in the kitchen, the glass on the counter was still half full. In a cursory attempt to clean, she picked up the glass and moving to the sink, she swallowed the liquid without conscious thought before placing it in the sink.

Wearily, she set to work sweeping the glass from the floor and wiping the surfaces, not paying any attention to what she was doing, a cloud of apathy had gathered over her mind in a welcome fog and for a brief time, Emma neither thought nor felt, but just allowed herself to take comfort in the stasis, feeling utterly numb.

Emma drifted through her morning routine, without breaking from her mind's entropy. She lingered in the overly hot shower for longer than usual, still feeling nothing as the heat seared her flesh. Before long, Emma had stumbled through tasks and was sat, dressed and dried with a mug of black coffee cradled in her palms.

Her past routine had been to take the early shifts at the station, allowing David to spend most of the day with Snow and Neal, before they would switch, ready for Emma to meet Henry after school. But lately, in her desperate bid to avoid as much interaction as she could, Emma's shifts had been placed to afternoons and nights. An excuse not to face the endless pestering and questions.

She blew the steam from her cup gently, she was fixated on the book on the counter, one of the select few she had managed to take with her in her hasty departure from the library. Sadly, more than one had been written in ancient and distant languages that Emma could not hope to decipher. But this was one of the few magical tomes that she could read, even if not fully understand.

She flipped the pages, in increasing fervour as the information seemed to strike a resonance. She poured over the words desperately, wondering if it would make sense of how she felt. Picking up a pen she began feverishly scribbling notes on a pad beside her. A knocking at the door caused her to halt in her scrawling, her head snapping towards the door. She really didn't appreciate the intrusion and found herself scowling at the door, before another insistent knock caused her to reluctantly rise from her seat, to at least fob off whoever was causing the rude interruption.

A flutter of panic made Emma's stomach to drop as she moved to the door, wondering if since Snow and David had seemingly given up their attempts at calling her, whether they had chosen the more direct approach. She steeled herself for the onslaught, trying to ignore the vicious cramping sensation that was once again creeping into her chest.

She threw open the door, her stance defiant, ready to tackle whichever angry and self riteous parent happened to be gracing her doorstep. However, her stance faltered as Henry burst straight past her into the apartment seeming perfectly content.

Emma flustered for a moment, bringing him into a one armed hug before her senses caught up with her to form coherent thought.

"Kid, why aren't you at school?" Emma shut the door behind him and followed him with an exasperated curiosity as he wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge in search of hidden morsels.

"No school today," he shrugged, already taking a bite out of a pastry Emma had planned to have for lunch. She bit back a smile at his audacity, still finding comfort in the childlike ease he had around his mother.

"Henry, it's a weekday, it's not a holiday, you have to go to school." She did her best to sound authoritarian, but knew she was always the more lenient of his mothers and wished she could command the respect from him not to think he could get away with it so easily. But still, he was her son and she couldn't pretend that she hadn't been as bad, or even far worse when she was his age. She just wanted better for him. She wanted everything for him and that would start with a little normality.

"With everything that's gone on, we agreed, you have to go to school, no more skipping out, no more running." Emma's words rushed out in a torrent as Henry just continued rummaging through her fridge for more items to complete his breakfast. He turned to stare at her confused and Emma felt a wash of affectionate frustration. "You've got to meet me half way on this. I'm trying to give you a normal life."

"Mom, it's a teachers' day, I told you like five times." Emma wracked her brain, attempting to grasp any memory of this information, feeling guilty that not only had she jumped to conclusions but had also been caught out at being less than attentive, which wasn't how she ever wanted to be, not with Henry. She looked to dumbly apologise, but just found Henry looking at her with an amused and smug smirk.

"So, what are we doing today?" Henry asked expectantly, with a clear message that since Emma had been wrong, she owed him. Emma couldn't help but smile back indulgently, shaking her head, even as she tried to bite it back. He was far too endearingly smug and confident for his own good.

She couldn't help herself but soften; Henry was the one good thing, no matter how little she deserved him, he was the one constant goodness in her life and the only thing she had ever got right. She inclined her head toward the sofa and made a dash towards it with him hot on her heels, lifting two controllers and having a mirthful tug of war over them.

Emma's face was set in a concentrated frown as she dipped her hand into the bowl of popcorn set between herself and Henry on the couch. Her eyes never left the screen, her level seven wizard wasn't having the best luck in the game. Henry however, was storming the level, his skills having improved by what Emma suspected was a considerable amount of time given to play the game, Regina's leniency on the issue would have surprised Emma, but she assumed it was her own way of hiding her moments of grief from their son.

"How about we break for lunch?" Emma suggested, dropping the controller onto the couch and stretching her arms which felt as though they had been stuck in their gaming stance for far too long. Her eyes and head stung a little, still recovering from the previous night. "Regina will still kill me if I let you eat junk all day and don't try to force at least one vegetable near you."

Digging in the fridge, Emma realised how her reluctance to venture into anywhere social meant that the only reasonably healthy food she had was already expired. Certain there must be something with a semblance of a fruit or vegetable in it somewhere, she took to rummaging in the cupboards, as Henry moseyed over to the counter and pulled himself onto a stool, thumb busily padding his phone, sending texts.

"I had an idea," Henry began. Emma hummed questioningly as she remained in her crouched stance, head firmly in a cupboard across the counter from him. "I was thinking, I wanted to run something by you."

"Okay," she responded curiously to his vague words, scrambling her hands through packaging, sure she had some soup or something with at least one vitamin in somewhere.

"What's this?"

Emma emerged from the low cabinet at her son's questioning, looking to see what he meant when she noticed the notebook in his hand, magic book still open on the counter. Like a shot, she stood and snatched them from his grasp.

"Research," she stated blankly, not noticing the cold edge to her voice as her defenses sprang into place.

"Mom?" Emma couldn't miss the wobble in his voice, the uncertainty, almost fear. At that moment she hated herself. Once again, she was hurting Henry. She couldn't escape it, no matter what she did, if he was there, she was hurting him. She had been foolish to think they could have even just one morning where she didn't mess everything up.

"It's nothing," she reaffirmed, making her way to the small desk by the window, shutting the books away in a drawer, not wanting to look at Henry.

"Then why are you hiding it? I saw it, it's about hearts. Mom, it's dark magic." His voice was pleading and Emma found herself closing her eyes in an attempt to escape the sound. He paused and with a definite tremor, added, "you're not...not still."

"Henry, no." Her voice was almost a warning. She couldn't help the hurt she felt at his accusation, how easy it was for him to lose faith in her, but she deserved it, she had never been worthy of his faith.

"Then tell me what's going on. Because you're acting just like," he paused, not daring to meet his mother's eyes, "just like when you were the Dark One." Henry tried to sound braver than he felt.

Emma took a deep breath, moving to her son's side, she hated that he really saw her that way, that it would be so easy for her to do that to him again. She placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to catch his gaze.

"Kid, I promise you, I am not the Dark One. I'm not practising any dark magic. I give you my word, okay? It's just research." She tried to implore all the truth and trust she could into her words, hoping that he could see the truth in her, even if he could no longer see the good.

"Then why are you…" Emma sighed a little over Henry's words and dropped her hands from his shoulders, turning from him to move back into the kitchen which stopped his words.

"What was it you wanted to run by me?" Emma hoped the change of subject could get them back on track, could make Henry forget about the books and they could salvage some sort of decent time together.

"I miss you," Henry shrugged, the strength behind his words belying the casual front he had tried to put on, "being at Mom's, it's great, but I miss you."

"I miss you too," Emma began.

"Good, so I was thinking, I'll bring my stuff over today and..."

"Woah, woah,woah." Emma was caught off guard. She noticeably blanched as she understood straight away that Henry meant to move back in with her. "I'd love that, you know I would…"

"Good. Then you can drive me over to pick up my stuff."

"Henry," Emma rubbed her eyes, starting to feel just how tired she was, tired of fighting, tired of being strong. "I want you here, you know I do. But right now," she paused trying to find the words, still trying to hide, "Regina just lost Robin, things are...right now just, you need to be there."

"You don't want me here." It wasn't a question, Emma could hear the deflation as Henry made his conclusions. She tried to argue, to tell him just how wrong he was, but he ploughed over her.

"You've been avoiding me. You keep saying you're busy or working or going to see your parents." Emma tried to shield herself from the increasing pain he spouted at her, but nothing could.

"I have been going to see…" Emma's feeble attempt was cut off by a sudden shout from her son.

"You're lying!" Emma couldn't remember the last time she had heard him shout this way, it silenced her completely in shock. "I asked Grams if I could go to dinner at the loft with you next time and she told me she hadn't had dinner with you." Emma couldn't help the pang out shame that hit her as her lies were exposed.

"You got her to lie to me to because you didn't want to be around me." There was no chance for Emma to fight her corner, to tell Henry how wrong he was. "You've made me feel like I was going crazy. You're doing just what she did, just what Mom did before you came here. She lied about the curse, about who you all were, she tried to convince me it was all in my head, that I was crazy and that's exactly what you're doing. You're worse than she was, at least she was doing it to try to keep me."

Something inside Emma broke as Henry finished his accusations, breathing heavily as he stared her down. It hurt. His words had cut through her lies and her walls and she felt trapped and cornered and couldn't hold back her defenses.

"You're right." Emma felt defeated and her words though strong, held little back of her pain that edged into them. "You're right. I am doing exactly what Regina did. But I was not doing it to avoid you and I wasn't doing it to hurt you. But that's exactly why you can't come back here, because, look what I'm doing to you." She needed him to believe her. She needed him to see that it wasn't about him, that she would never try to hurt him.

"Why won't you talk to me? Why aren't you being my mom?" Henry was almost begging her to let him in, but at the forefront was his anger. He wasn't a little boy anymore and he was going to stand his ground. "You're running away again. You're shutting us all out. You think you're making things better but you're not. You're making everyone miserable."

Emma stood, stunned, Henry's last statement eating into her more than she could have imagined. She was making everyone miserable. She didn't need to think about it, she instantly knew it was true. She was poison. Nobody wanted the pain she was causing, the drain on their lives that she was.

"I get it, ok." Emma spoke back to him, almost shouting herself. "I am making you miserable. I know that. I know how angry you are and you have every right to be. I ruined everything." She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and fight back the tears that were threatening.

"You have had to deal with way more than any kid should." She shook her head sadly.

"I was the Dark One, Regina was the Evil Queen, we put you through hell...took you there, literally. You got a crappy deal, Kid and it's my fault." By this point the words were spilling unbidden from Emma's lips, she had lost control of them and gave in to powerlessness.

"I gave you away and you should hate me for that." As steady as Emma's voice sounded on her statement, she was anything but.

"I get why. I get it. You felt like nobody wanted you, you wondered what you did wrong, why didn't they keep you, why didn't anyone keep you. What did you do so wrong, what made you so unlovable at just hours old, this helpless baby to make them want to give you away, to make you so worthless to them. What made it so easy for them to leave, for them to always leave."

"It's...this isn't about me is it?" Henry trembled, hearing her words, the realisation finally hitting him and echoing in his voice. He softened towards his mother seeing the unshed tears glistening in her eyes, though her expression had already changed to one of steely reserve as she squashed back the emotion. But it was too late. She had already said far too much.

"What? I'm saying I get it Henry, that I haven't been fair to you." Emma tried to back away from her previous words as quickly as she could, as though if she didn't admit how much she had let slip, that he wouldn't have heard it either.

"Do you remember what I told you when you first came to Storybrooke? I got you here and you pushed me away." Emma tried to interrupt but Henry simply continued over her,

"I knew you were doing it because you felt guilty. And I told you I knew, I knew why you gave me away. It was to give me my best chance. I still know that. Nothing's changed. I've never been mad at you for what you did. Plus, it gave me my mom too and it let us break the curse and save everyone."

Emma looked at him, in awe of his forgiveness, his lack of anger towards her that she knew she deserved. But the pain had already started to crawl inside her ribs as she had spilled too many of her thoughts. She could feel the familiar clawing behind her sternum. She swallowed thickly to try to get through it, she didn't want Henry to see her like that, she had already put him through far too much.

"Henry, I love you. And you're right, all I have ever wanted for you is your best chance. But you have to go. I just...I need to work."

At her words Henry almost leapt into a fury and she immediately knew she had said just the wrong thing.

"No! You're lying AGAIN!" He didn't stop even when he saw tears collecting in her eyes as she looked straight through him.

"You can't hide it. This isn't about avoiding me. It's about avoiding them. You're running from them. I've forgiven you but you haven't forgiven them yet have you?"

Emma could barely breathe, she couldn't bear for him to see her in pain, but she also knew she couldn't outright deny his words.

"I saw you avoiding your Mom, I thought it was because I was with her. But it was her." Emma could see him putting the pieces together in his mind and her instinct, as ever, was indeed to run. But she knew she could never run far from Henry, anyone else, but not him. But he wasn't finished.

"You call her Mom to get her off your back." Henry stated knowingly, finally making sense of it all. He finally started to understand the little niggling feelings that something was 'off' in the supposedly comfortable family moments and he was angry that after everything they had been through, Emma was still falling into the same patterns. He was scared if she kept pulling away then he would lose her too. And that fear brought out a righteous anger that he'd never felt so strongly.

"You know that if you do that, people won't push you so hard to get closer. That way you can keep your distance, keep pulling away and people won't notice because you're still saying the right things, saying what they want you to." He watched as Emma turned her back to him, walls up, hardened edges in place.

He waited for her to respond, to get angry, to shout back at him, to cry, to lie, anything. But she just stood with her back to him, staring at some unknown fixed point, arms folded protectively across herself.

"Mom?" Had he pushed her too far? Henry's fear began to creep to the surface as his anger shrank back.

"Fine. But I'm not giving up." He stated, trying to stop his voice from shaking. "I'm not letting you go. I'm not giving up on you."

Emma heard Henry rush from the apartment, to do what or go where, she wasn't sure. She could only let herself hope that he was ok and find some way to make it so. Once the door slammed shut behind him, she finally let go. A raggedly restrained scream was torn from her lips, tears of regret and shame mingled with tears of pain as he chest felt like it was being torn in two. Her legs gave out under her and on her knees, braced on her arms on the floor, she tried to control her agonised panting breaths, as the tears kept falling.

It took over an hour for the tears to slow and Emma's breathing to settle. But the pain in her chest, though more dull and manageable, remained. And she knew. Suddenly she knew where she had felt that pain before. The memory of fingers moving inside her chest, gripping, pulling. It was so similar.

The yellow car screeched to a halt in the road and Emma practically ran into the mayor's office, eyes still stinging from the tears, chest still throbbing, but a new determination as she realised her best, if not only plan of action.

Regina looked up from her desk at the sound of heavy, rapid footfalls bursting into her office. She had intended to sarcastically berate the intrusion until she saw the pained and desperate appearance of the woman before her.

"Emma?" Regina's voice conveyed her shocked concern as she surveyed Emma's rushed entrance, her shaky composure and unsteady breathing.

"I need you to do something for me." Emma wasted no time on niceties or preamble. She was scared and she needed answers. And this, fixing this physical problem would at least distract her from what had happened between her and Henry. At least this would prove that she could fix something, just one thing.

"Okay?" Regina spoke slowly, suddenly very unsure of the situation. Her eyes never left Emma's and the pair were locked in a panicked intensity. Emma finally broke it, her voice certain,

"I need you to take my heart."

A/N: SO! Hope that's taken things up a gear for everyone! I am so happy to have posted this chapter as it was one of the first bits I had fully planned out in the whole story!

What do you guys think!? Please let me know!