The sunrays shone through the cloudy sky as Killian left his apartment in the morning. He hadn't slept a wink, last night, his mind occupied with all different kinds of question marks. But there was hope, somewhere in his chest, naive, irrational hope, that this kid, this young boy would have any answers to the mystery that had became his life. Just as he was about to open the door to his car, someone called him from behind. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck rose slowly to the sound of the voice; it was her. He turned around, surprise on his face when he found Emma standing next to him.

"Hey," she smiled, trying to hide that she caught her breath from walking quickly.

"'Morning," he returned the smile. "Out, so early, already?"

"Yeah, I actually, I wanted to take a walk." Killian slightly raised a brow, sensing a lie, but he remained silent. Instead he just nodded, his eyes looking kind and soft.

"And you, going to work?"

"No- ye- no. No, actually, no," he started stuttering, not sure what tell her. He could hardly reveal the truth but he didn't want to lie, either. Emma bowed her head a little before he went on.

"I-I am… I am working outdoors, today. For… research." Emma raised her brows, nodding approvingly, yet her eyes wore the same shade of suspicion, as he had witnessed it the day before.

"I see. Do you… have to go now?" she asked, a sweet hue coloring her voice. Killian blinked.

"I- uh, yeah, unfortunately, yeah."

"Hm, that's too bad. Now that I ran into you, I thought I could return the favor from yesterday?" Emma glanced at him from beneath her long lashes, making Killian's heart skip a beat or two. He swallowed, his mind blanking out for a moment.

"Well, I might have a minute or two," he smirked and Emma smiled back.

"That's a start."

"Where do you want to go, then?" Killian closed the door to his car.

"How about Charlie's?"

"Excellent choice, they have the best coffee around here."

"I know, right?"

-.-.-.-.-

"Turned out the guy was married and had three kids, which didn't stop him from skipping bail, obviously. I caught him, eventually, though."

"Impressive work," Killian smiled and Emma returned it.

"Thank you. I do my best, I guess. What about you? You're English, right?" Killian nodded, taking a sip from his coffee.

"Half-Irish, actually. But yes, I grew up in London, though my mom and I spent most of our summers in Ireland at my Grandmother's cottage. She loved dogs and had a huge yard where I used to play with them."

"That must've been fun." Killian's eyes dropped, a nostalgic smile on his lips.

"Yeah, I loved it."

"Why did you leave, then?"

"College, I suppose," he shrugged but Emma raised a brow.

"Don't you have any colleges over there? I heard there were some pretty decent ones, just a couple," she teased him which made both of them smile.

"Yeah, I might have heard of them," he winked at her, before he shook his head to continue.

"I don't know, I guess college was just an excuse to escape. I wanted to see the world, you know. Cross the sea, travel."

"But you ended up here, instead."

"Oh, I love New York. And I love my job. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Well, except for an actual journey to the stars, perhaps," he joked and Emma couldn't stop herself from joining his chuckle.

"My original plan was to travel the country for a year before I came back to start my studies at the NYU. But once I arrived here, the city just didn't let go of me." Killian's eyes went to the distance, his brows slightly furrowed.

"It almost felt as if an invisible force held me here, magically preventing me to leave town. Whenever I packed my things, my heart turned heavy and I simply couldn't. It's hard to describe, but it felt as if I was letting somebody down, someone close… to my heart." He blinked, as if he was awakening from a daydream and when he returned his gaze to Emma, he saw genuine compassion on her face. Killian chuckled.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away, I guess." Emma smiled, her silent lips telling him, that it was okay.

"Well, the truth is that, even though I wanted to leave so many times, I still haven't regretted staying. I'm actually very glad I'm still here," he gave her a smile. Emma's eyes fluttered as she returned it.

"Curious story," she took another sip from her drink before she inhaled very deeply.

"Killian?" He raised his brow, his tongue collecting the coffee drops from his lips.

"Can I ask you something?" He nodded.

"Of course, go ahead."

"Why did you really meet up with Henry? At the park, I mean?" Killian wasn't surprised that Emma still couldn't shake her suspicions. He was such a bad liar, if he was her, he wouldn't believe his lies, either. But what was he going to do now? He had promised Henry…

"Well, I told you, before. We threw some balls."

"I found the book." Killian swallowed hard regretting that he had left the book somewhere under the couch without having the chance to tell Henry were it was.

"The Book?" he played innocent.

"Yes, the book you have slid under my couch, yesterday. The book my son was reading for the past two weeks, over and over again." He raised his brows, stunned by Emma's observation skills. Then she bent over a little, her eyes reflecting the morning sun.

"Look, Killian, I know you're a good guy. And I really want to trust you, but I can tell when people are lying to me, that's kinda my profession. So I suggest you start telling me the truth or,"

Killian narrowed his eyes a little bit, his gaze locked on hers.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll call the police." Emma almost whispered the last part but Killian could tell she didn't want to threaten him. All she wanted to do was to make sure her son was safe. She wanted to know the truth behind all the mystery and if Killian only could, he would tell her that he wanted to solve it all just as much as she did. He couldn't give her real answers, though, all he could do was to break his loyalty to his little friend and tell his mother everything he knew about him. He took a deep breath.

"Henry wanted to meet me, because he wanted to give me that book." Emma's brows furrowed; this wasn't enough.

"Why?"

"He thinks… he believes I'm a fairy tale character from his book. He thinks it's real." He could see the surprise on her face, her trying to figure out whether or not to believe him.

"Seriously? What, so, just you, or?"

"Allegedly all the stories are true. But he didn't tell me more."

"Who does he think you are?" Killian Jones.

"Captain Hook," he shrugged, while pointing at his prosthesis. It felt strange saying it out loud and Emma's face mirrored that feeling.

She inhaled deeply, thinking while she stared into her coffee cup. A couple of minutes passed in silence, before she broke it.

"The kid's really imaginative, I guess. He's always been into stories and heroes and stuff. But speaking to strangers, now, believing that they're part of a different world?" She looked at him, a thousand questions reflecting in her eyes, "It's normal to freak out about that, right? I mean, I should, who wouldn't? What kinda mother would I be, if I wouldn't worry about my kid living in a fantasy world, right?" Killian smiled compassionately, touching her hand lightly.

"Emma, you're a great mother. And yes, everyone would do the same." Emma smiled back, a hint of relief and gratitude in her eyes.

"But don't be too hard on yourself, love; and neither on the boy. He believes it."

"Just because you believe something, doesn't make it true," she replied.

"He's a child. Children tend to believe in things that aren't necessarily true, but that doesn't make them any less real to them. Believing in these stories gives him hope, don't take that away from him," he squeezed her hand, "Just leave him be, he'll be fine."

"You really think so?" Emma's eyes grew bigger as a watery shine started to glaze the green mosaic of her iris.

"I do," he said with a deep sincerity echoing in his velvet voice. Emma smiled.

"What?" he wondered.

"I've only known you for two days and it's already been the second time that you've helped me out. Thank you." There it was again, Killian thought, the strange connection he felt whenever she was close enough. It was as if they were two magnets that couldn't stop attracting each other. For a moment Killian felt, as if he knew this woman better than he had known anyone else, ever before. It seemed so easy to read her mind, to unravel her words, to translate her gaze… everything about her seemed so awfully familiar and he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't only because of his dreams. It was just then, that Killian realized he was staring at her pink lips for maybe a little too long. His gaze dropped as he felt the blood rush to his cheeks and his finger went to his ear, scratching it bashfully.

"That's alright." Killian was glad Emma felt this way, he had hoped they would get along, somehow. When he returned his eyes to her, she was still smiling.

"Apparently Henry isn't the only one you're giving hope," she said with a soft voice, making Killian chuckle sheepishly.

"It's a pleasure," he said, smirking with blushed cheeks.

Both of them just remained in their seats for a moment, a comfortable silence in the air.

"Maybe you can take him with you… next time?"

"I'm sure he'd love that." Killian felt his heart beat against his chest, overjoyed with the fact that she wanted to see him again! He still wasn't sure what it was that they both seemed to share, but he wasn't ready to let go of it, just yet.

Then he checked his watch and twitch ran across his chest; he had to leave. But it wouldn't be for too long.

-.-.-.-.-

"I'm so sorry, Jona, but I really do feel awful," he coughed, "I'm afraid I must rest, all day, so I can make it, tomorrow," he coughed again, hoping it sounded more convincing this way.

"Yes, thank you. I'm sorry, again. Alright, see you tomorrow, then! Bye."

Killian hated to lie, but he simply couldn't have waited with this until the weekend. He had to find August as soon as possible so he could put an end to all of these questions in his mind, so he hoped. A big part of him still couldn't believe he was actually driving all the way down to Philadelphia to talk to a teenage boy, wishing that he could solve all of his current problems. But his guts couldn't care less about it. There was something inside of him that sensed that maybe… maybe this child did have any answers, indeed. And if there was just the tiniest bit of hope inside of him, didn't he owe it to himself to find out if, perhaps, Henry was right? At the end of the day, there was no logical explanation to any of this, but if you thought about it, how rational could you be if the subject of debate was in fact your dream? Killian knew a lot about the galaxy and the stars, but he also knew that there was so much mystery out there, in the great infinity of the universe, that it would be foolish to dismiss a potential truth rather too quickly without proofing it wrong, first. Somehow this book was connected to his subconsciousness and Killian wanted to know why.

As he drove inside of the parking lot, he could feel the tension rise inside of him. He had no troubles finding the address that Larry had given him; he's always been good with navigating his way. But now that he had reached his destination, it challenged him to actually leave his car and look for the boy. Killian took a very deep breath, closing his eyes for a second. All he saw was darkness, at first, but then little bright dots appeared like stars sprinkled all over the black canvas that was the inner surface of his eyelids. His eyeballs tried to bring the stars into a constellation, to find a pattern in their random appearance, but he couldn't. Then he gathered all his courage and left his car.

When he reached the foster home, carefully stepping inside, two little girls ran past him, joyfully playing tag. Killian smiled.

"May I help you?" a female voice asked and Killian turned around to find a middle-aged woman across from him.

"Yes, ma'am," he cleared his throat, "My name's Killian Jones. Please excuse my unheralded visit but I was looking for someone."

"And who's that?" she raised an eyebrow.

"His name is August Booth, ma'am." The woman crossed her arms, not sure if the stranger was trustworthy.

"I got his new address just recently and I wanted to pay him a visit."

"May I ask, how you know him?"

"Well, I'm an… old friend… from New York," he smiled but the woman's eyebrows narrowed even more.

"I'm, I'm actually," what was he? Killian realized just then that he didn't think this through, properly, and in his mind he was kicking himself for being careless like that.

"I'm Henry's uncle, August's friend Henry, from New York. Yeah, they went to school together, you know, and, Henry couldn't stop wondering what happened to August so I thought," he shrugged, "I come here to say hi from his old lad."

"Henry? Yeah August has talked about Henry a few times but… aren't you English?" Bloody hell, Killian cursed in his head.

"Uh, yes, ma'am, that I am, but Henry, his father, he's a real American. My sister came here just for him," he winked, "and the rest followed. Like me." Oh God, Killian wished the ground would swallowed him up, he was so bad at this. The woman still side-eyed him suspiciously but then she called August's name. Killian raised his eyebrows, surprised by this turn.

A few seconds later a ginger teenage boy entered the room.

"August," the woman talked to him without dropping her gaze from Killian, "Do you know this man, honey?" August looked at Killian, straight-faced. He nodded.

"And do you know his name?" He nodded again.

"That's Mr. Jones, ma'am. Mr. Killian Jones." Killian felt the relief in every fiber of his body before a weird shiver ran down his spine; the boy knew him… how was this possible? The woman checked him out, one last time, before she turned her head to August.

"Do you want to talk to Mr. Jones? He says he's Henry's uncle?" She almost whispered the second part of the sentence, curiously waiting for August's answer.

"Yes, that's right," the boy scratched his nose, "We used to play in his garden, every Sunday afternoon." The woman smiled, slightly and Killian thought he could see a hint of relief on her face.

"Is that so? Now, I'm sure you have lots to talk about, then," she returned her gaze to Killian.

"Why don't you show Mr. Jones our garden while I make some tea?"

August turned around without saying a word and it took Killian a second to realize that he was supposed to follow him. They went through a dark hall before they entered the kitchen where they found the backdoor to the garden. August sat down on a little bench and Killian joined him. Neither of them talked for what felt like hours, before Killian braced himself to break it.

"You're good at lying," he winked at the boy, who didn't seem to notice it.

"I promised my papa not to do it anymore, but he's gone now." Killian blinked as he realized he was talking to an actual orphan; a little kid who had probably been through God knows what and who now created a new and safe fantasy world of his own, spreading rumors to other children who believed his natural lies. Killian smiled at his own naivity; he wasn't an exception, he had almost fallen for them, too.

"Henry has found you, then?" The kid's gaze found his.

"Yeah… yeah that he did, indeed."

"Did he give you the book?"

"Yes, about that…"

"Did you read it?"

"Yes, I did, but-"

"Good. Now you can start you mission, then."

"Wait, what mission?"

"To make the savior believe, again."

"August, what are you talking about?"

"Emma," he said and Killian's iris tightened. "She's the savior and she has to believe, again. You are the only one who can make her." Killian took a deep breath, a mixture of pity and compassion on his face.

"Lad, you're not making any sense," he said with a soft voice, "Emma is Henry's mother, she's not a savior and she's not part of any fairy tale book, contrary to your believes, my boy." August's eyes looked into Killian's, deeply and earnestly.

"So, you're not remembering."

"What?"

"The curse, or anything before that."

"August, what curse?"

"I thought you might remember when you read the book. One day it found its way back to me, the same way as it happened before, ten years ago." Killian shook his head, the boy was completely stuck in his fantasy world.

"You mean, when you were a toddler?" August ignored the comment and he kept talking instead, mostly to himself, though.

"I thought it was a sign. I had found Henry and Emma, the book had found me. There was only one more key missing."

"And what was that?" He asked with a low voice before the child faced him again.

"You." 'That again,' Killian thought, smiling.

"How would I be the missing piece in your puzzle, mate? I'm just a regular lad from New York."

"Because it is your destiny." Killian furrowed his brows, there was something about this kid that gave him the creeps.

"You were born to find the savior, to make her believe."

"Was I?" This got better and better, he thought. "Now, August, can you answer me one simple question? Where do you know me from?"

"I've met you before."

"Where?"

"In Storybrooke."

"Where the bloody hell is Storybrooke?" Killian bit his lip, as he realized that he shouldn't curse in front of a child.

"It's in Maine. That's where we lived before the town disappeared."

"What? Disap- what? I've never been to Maine, before."

"Yes, you were." Killian was speechless; the boy obviously had an answer to every question, but none of them seemed to make any sense at all.

"Alright, my boy," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, "Let's get back to Henry, then, shall we? Why did you give him the book?"

"When they brought me here, I thought Henry was my last chance. I gave him the book a week before I left, hoping he would find you someday. I wished upon the North Star, every night, since then. I wished that you would find Emma and you'd save us all." Killian felt goose bumps all over his body.

'Go find me Killian. Save me.' The words echoed in his ears.

"How long has it been since you came here, lad?" he asked slowly.

"It's been 8 days." Killian caught his breath. 8 days – that's when he first saw Emma's face in his dreams. But this could not be… Killian got up from the bench, kneeling in front of the boy to be able to really look into his eyes. Then he asked him with a shaking voice:

"August, where is your father?"

"In the Enchanted Forest."

"And why aren't you with him there?"

"Because I wasn't affected by the first curse."

"The first curse?"

"About thirty years ago the Evil Queen, Regina, she cursed the entire kingdom and brought almost every member of the Enchanted Forest to the World without Magic." Killian remembered the story from the fairy tale book.

"You mean, here?" August nodded.

"At first I thought only Emma, Henry and I were able to escape the curse but Regina's mother, Cora managed to protect you and a few others from it, too; so neither of us were brought here by the original curse. That's why it didn't take us back when Regina had to break it."

"So, I am part of that enchanted world, too?" Killian asked and the boy nodded, convinced that it was the truth.

"Then why is it that you can remember all of this, and I can't?" August's gaze dropped.

"Back in Storybrooke, well, I used to play outdoors a lot and sometimes I sneaked into Mr. Gold's shop. He's the Dark One, he has magic, you know." Killian nodded as if he understood what the kid was talking about.

"I liked to watch him when he used it. One day he made a potion and bottled it in tiny little flasks. They were blue and blue's my favorite color." The young one went quiet for a moment, so Killian took his hand to encourage him to continue his story.

"I stole some of them, two bottles actually. I put them into my pockets and ran away. Sometime later my papa brought me to the town line, we were supposed to say our goodbyes to Emma and Henry." Killian felt a twich in his stomach.

"Everybody thought we would all return to the Enchanted Forest, together… but we didn't. The town disappeared and I was left alone, somewhere in the woods. I managed to find a road and I waited for someone to find me, but no one crossed my path. I was all by myself with no memories and no direction. I was just so…" August swallowed hard, little tears in his eyes.

"Scared?" Killian finished his sentence and August nodded again. "What happened then?" he asked.

"I got thirsty but I couldn't find any water. Then I found the bottles in my pocket and I drank one of the potions. It was a memory potion, you know."

"That brought your memories back?"

"Hm-hm."

"What about the second bottle?" The boy looked around, checking his environment for any eavesdroppers.

"I hid it under my bed."

"Oh, so you still have it, then?" August nodded sincerely.

"And this memory potion, it can return all your memories?"

"Yes. It brought mine back."

Killian inhaled deeply. He didn't know what to think of this child's story but one thing he knew for certain; for August all of this was real and Killian genuinely didn't know what to do now. He felt a deep responsibility for this young boy and he couldn't just tell him that he didn't believe him. He was obviously traumatized and Killian felt awfully bad for him.

"And here's our tea," he heard the woman's voice when she joined them in the garden.

"Oh, thank you very much, Mrs. …"

„It's Pfleger, Mrs. Pfleger."

„Thank you, Mrs. Pfleger, that's very kind. But I'm afraid I have to leave."

"Already?" she said, sounding rather formal than seriously concerned.

Killian looked at August who seemed saddened by his plans and he felt a stroke in his chest.

"Unfortunately, yes. I promised my sister, Emma, I'd be back early," he smiled at the boy and he returned it, hope glancing in his eyes.

"But I'm very grateful for your kindness, Mrs. Pfleger, for letting me into your home. I really do appreciate it." They went back through the hall to the front door of the house.

"You're welcome. I hope you found what you were looking for." Killian returned his head to face the woman, not sure what she was referring to.

"I think… I did."

"Have a safe travel." The woman's voice seemed strangely formal, cold almost and Killian decided that August wasn't the only resident of this home who gave him an odd vibe.

"Thanks…" He opened the door of his car, as he heard August's voice calling him.

"Wait," he cried. Killian closed the door again as the youngster ran closer to him.

"Can you give this to Henry?" August handed him a little teddy bear. Killian smiled.

"Of course."

"And tell him that I miss him."

"That I will, my boy."

Then his little hand gestured Killian to come closer and Killian bent forward to hear what he had to say.

"Please bring back my papa," he whispered and it felt as if an invisible hand punched Killian in his stomach. Then the boy reached for his ear, whispering:

"Save the savior. Save us all."