As dawn broke, Emma could see a city in the distance. Boston. As she watched, the buildings were illuminated by the morning sun. Emma had few memories of her time in the city, it was the place where she had finally been found, and was the last place she'd experienced normalcy. Although her life had changed insurmountably, and was now everything but normal, she couldn't help but think that Henry finding her was the biggest miracle of her life.

Whilst she had been happy enough with her life before Henry had extracted her, looking back on it now Emma knew how much she was struggling. What she would have then called her strength, Emma now knew were the walls she had placed around her heart.

The first wall had been slowly erected throughout her childhood as her parents had continuously failed to save her from her horrible life.

The second wall was created by the hardships of being a foster child. Abuse, neglect, low expectations and dwindling hope all created a tall barricade after 16 years.

The third wall belonged solely to a man, or as Emma like to say 'a bastard.' Calling him a man elicits at least some ideals of respect and honor. The bastard had made her fall in love for the first time in her life, leaving her intensely vulnerable. Fed her false hope about a life they could lead together. Had gotten her arrested, Left her pregnant and abandoned her.

Brokenhearted, her walls scattered all over the place, Emma had been a mess. That was when her outlook on life changed. Her parents were never going to find her, because they didn't want her. The foster system was corrupt, and she would never wish the curse of being sent there upon anyone. Those walls were easy to restore. However, that final third wall spent 11 months being erected.

Through the intense shock of being set up. Through the realization of her pregnancy. Through the morning sickness. Through the cravings. Through the back pain. Through the swollen feet. Through the stretch marks. Through the contractions which amounted slowly and painfully for 24 hours before Emma was finally, finally, able to bring her beautiful child into the world.

The wall continued to be erected as Emma, a mere 18 year old girl realized that her son deserved better. He deserved better than her. He didn't deserve being pushed into the foster system for 3 months to wait for his jailed mother. The baby boy deserved more than a girl as a mom who most certainly didn't have her life in order. He deserved more than the mother who would probably need to dump him in the foster system for sporadic periods throughout his life, so that she could provide for them, so that she could organize her life. He deserved better.

When Emma had walked from that prison, after 11 months, she was a different person. She may have walked in brokenhearted, but she had walked out strong. A fighter. With walls taller than the empire state building, created to protect her heart.

Henry. Her baby boy. Had found her, and had found her parents. The small gift she had given to the world, had returned to her after 10 years. He was her bulldozer, her dynamite. He carelessly rolled around, crashing through her carefully erected walls.

When he had created his tunnel, a small passage straight to her heart, Emma knew that there was no more letting go. She wasn't allowed to continue construction around her heart. She had to open herself up to love, to her son who needed her, and most of all, needed her love.

Ultimately, Henry's tunnel had opened a passage, which now allowed a small slither of light to touch her heart daily. She was happy, and she couldn't remember ever being happier. But now that her walls had Henry's tunnel, and the cracks, which were her parents, Emma was beginning to recognize the sheer loneliness of her past life. Driving past Boston, and away from her parents was a strong reminder of those days. And Emma could feel the cracks of her parents being filled with dust and sand with every mile that separated them.

"Mom" Henry croaked, scaring Emma from her train of thought. They were just past Boston when he awoke. Mr. Gold was still sitting impassively in the seat adjacent to Emma. She was unsure whether or not he had slept, but there had been no conversation between the two adults since Storybrooke.

"Yeah Henry, what is it?" Emma asked, glancing at her son's pale face in the rear-view mirror.

"I need to pee…" he stated eloquently, as he rubbed the palms of his hands over his eyes repeatedly.

Emma groaned slightly as she promised to pull over at the next service station. Although it was probably a decent idea for her to take a break from driving, Emma was in a rush to reach Manhattan. The Bug, Mr. Gold, Henry and his unruly hair, it was all too much. Emma longed for the days when it was just her. And a deeper, unaccounted part of her longed for another unruly haired male who used to sleep in the backseat of the bug.

As Emma pulled into the parking lot of a small highway diner, Mr. Gold finally spoke. "Would you like a comb, Henry?" he asked kindly.

Emma stared at him, an eyebrow raised in skepticism as he held out a small black comb to her son. Henry shrugged before taking it and running it through his hair.

Noticing Emma's intense gaze Gold attempted an answer. "I had a boy once, remember? I know how their hair can be after a night tossing and turning. We don't want the diner thinking we kidnapped your boy now do we?"

Nodding, Emma climbed out of the car, and motioned for Henry to climb out behind her. He was halfway out of the car before he exclaimed in utmost horror, "I'm still in my pajamas! I can't go in there!"

Chuckling, Emma walked around to the trunk, and pulled open Henry's suitcase. Grabbing a pair of jeans, a shirt and a red sweater, Emma called out to her little boy, "put your shoes and jacket on, you can change inside."

Ignoring the complaints that someone will realize he is wearing pajamas, Emma and Mr. Gold walk towards the diner, followed by a grumpy Henry. "Oh cheer up lad," Gold attempted to console Henry. "Who do you think will notice? It's not like you know anyone in there." He pointed out with a small smile as he adjusted the shawl around his neck.

Thankfully as they walked in, they were greeted by a gust of warm air and the smell of food. Passing over his clothes to her son, Emma pointed towards an empty booth. "We'll be over there. Don't take too long."

Nodding, Henry rushed towards the men's rooms, desperate to get out of his small superman sleepwear. Unfortunately for him, as he neared the bathrooms two pretty girls who looked to be about 12 years old, walked out from the ladies room. They both stopped in surprise at the sight of Henry, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. They took one look at him in his PJ's, glanced at each other and burst into giggles as they walked away.

Blushing, sighing and cursing himself for wearing his worst pair of pajama's to bed the evening before, he pushed open the men's room door, and entered, his head hung low.

"I ordered you waffles," Emma informed her son as he trudged back towards their booth. He glared at his mother who pursed her lips in order to keep herself from laughing. She had seen the small altercation earlier, and found it adorable that her 11 year old was embarrassed about a bunch of girls seeing him in his nightwear.

Utilizing the tact she had supposedly inherited from her father, Emma took the opportunity to tease her son further. "I overheard those lovely young ladies whom you met earlier, gushing about how adorable you looked." She gossiped earning a huff from Henry as his blush deepened.

"Unfortunately," Emma continued, completely loving the reaction Henry was displaying, as he was providing solid entertainment amidst their awkward and tedious road trip, "they think you're only 10." At this comment, Henry completely slumped in his seat, and Mr. Gold begun sniggering.

This discussion broke the ice slightly, and although Henry refused to speak until their food arrived, Emma and Mr. Gold were able to discuss their plans for Manhattan somewhat comfortably.

"Do you know where he lives?" Emma had questioned. However she didn't like the look on Gold's face as he hesitated to reply.

"Well… partly. I know obviously that he lives in Manhattan…" Mr. Gold tapered off, looking unsure.

"It's a pretty big city, with loads of citizens Gold… please tell me you at least know what Neighborhood he lives in." Emma hissed with wide eyes.

It was years ago now, but Emma had lived there for a while. 11 months. It was one of her favourite cities in America. There were so many people, from many different walks of life. And as a bail bonds person, she had a fair amount of work within the city. Eventually she had left, and gone to Boston. There was no particular reason why, but Emma had been a runner back then. That was something that had had to change upon meeting Henry. And although she had tried to leave multiple times, it had been over 1 year and she still lived in Storybrooke with her parents and son.

However, there is always a reason for being a runner, no matter what some tell themselves, if you run, you are either running towards or away from something. And Emma was always trying to stay ahead of herself. Moving around a lot helped to keep her life from catching up with her. There was always a nagging feeling that something was just out of arms reach, and the moment she relinquished control of her life, it would catch up with her, and floor her. It was because of that fear, or foresight, she called it that had kept her moving. It just felt… safer.

"Well… yeah I know the block where Balefire lives, or at least spends his evenings, but I looked it up and there are multiple buildings with many residential apartments in SoHo."

"It's Manhattan." Emma deadpanned. "Of course there are multiple buildings with many residential apartments. That's what the entire city is."

"Oh… well, I hoped you would be able to help identify my boy, considering your history in that line of work." Mr. Gold suggested, finally admitting his reason for dragging her along with him.

"Is that why you forced me to come? You thought I could track down your son, in a sea of unknown people!" Emma hissed, annoyed at his overly ambitious plan.

"yes." He nodded simply.

Sighing, Emma ran her hand over her face, she was exhausted. "Ok, so what do we know? He has brown hair?"

"Yes, and an olive skin tone." Mr. Gold added before continuing. "Also, I calculated it, and he would be between the age of 14 and 43. I made the curse so that we would arrive in this world before him, so that he wouldn't have to wait for you to break the curse. But it is a possibility that we may have gotten here at the same time."

Emma glared across the table as Mr. Gold talked. He had just described possibly every male living on that block in Manhattan. With the age gap between 14 and 43, it did not rule out many options. Brown haired, olive skinned, males are also fairly common. Henry was included in that description. Great.

Emma let out one massive, elongated sigh as she picked up her fork to dig into her pancakes. "Well… I guess we will be doing a lot of door knocking then. I'm going to need a coffee… it's going to be a long day."

Hiya, so this is chapter 3… I promise there will be Neal in the next chapter… :D