"Excuse me?" Emma inquired coolly, raising an eyebrow at the man's intrusion.

The man hopped out his booth and started to slide in next to Neal. "Mind if I join you?"

"Yes," Neal stated flatly and pushed the man out sideways, before he got out to stand up as well.

"Jefferson," the man reached around Neal, greeting her nonchalantly, and held out his hand to her, "we've met before." Emma reluctantly shook his hand, wondering how she even knew this guy in the first place. He must have seen the question in her eyes since he gave her another maniacal grin and said, "I tried to help you find your dog Spot."

As she was wondering why she would ever be as uncreative to name a dog Spot, Neal took a step toward Jefferson, asking in a low voice that she could barely hear, "Who sent you, my father or Regina?"

Jefferson dramatically winced, pretending to be conflicted, before confessing, "Your father. One last endeavor for him and I get all the gold I want. Teenage girls," he mused with an audible tsk, looking at both of them contemplatively, "expensive. And I'm a little short on cash since we returned home." Seeing Neal's exasperated face, Jefferson feigned surprise, "I know, right, who would have guessed that picking mushrooms still isn't a lucrative career."

Emma's eyes flicked him over. So that definitely explained everything. Shrooms. This guy had to be on them. Rubbing the back of his neck, Neal tiredly sighed, "Just take me, man."

Her eyes went wide. She didn't like people making decisions for her, and she also wasn't about to let someone take her place in something, especially if she didn't even know what for. "What?" Emma stuttered.

"Why?" Jefferson reiterated, looking at Neal like he was crazy.

"He only wants her because he thinks it'll make me come back," Neal retorted bleakly. He turned back toward Emma, his voice resolute, "Henry needs you."

While the thought of Henry warmed her heart, she was completely lost in this whole conversation now. "Back where?" Emma sternly implored.

"The Enchanted Forest," Jefferson answered with a casual nod of his head. Emma felt her eyebrows shoot up in immediate skepticism. She really hoped he was just talking about Disneyland. Seeing her face, Jefferson stifled a laugh and patted Neal on the shoulder sympathetically, "Getting her to believe again is going to be tough, believe me, I tried the first time."

"Emma, just get out of here," Neal hissed, trying to keep his voice down now that the bartender has started curiously eyeing them from across the room.

Crossing her arms, Emma stood her ground. Where did he expect her to go? She didn't have any damn memories of these people. And most of what they were saying sounded like psycho babble. "Where's Henry?" Emma urged.

"He's with your parents," Neal said, trying to be reassuring. Her parents? Why weren't they there when she was in the hospital? He gestured back at Jefferson, "I'll go back with him and I'll get them to – "

"Her going back is inevitable," Jefferson interjected irritably, giving Neal a pointed look, "I've seen at least two others in the city today looking for her. One of whom, I'm sure, will probably gut us for getting to her first so I would say it's time to get moving," he quipped warningly, moving to grab her.

"No," Neal moved slightly in front of him, cutting him off, "Henry needs to get as far away from magic as possible and now that we know where she is-"

"She is magic," Jefferson countered condescendingly as he pointed a finger at her, "She doesn't even belong here in the first place."

"What if everything that has happened to Henry since that stupid curse broke had happened to your daughter-"

She couldn't take this anymore. All this talk about people gutting people, magic, and curses was making her head spin. "Is this some sort of sick joke?" Emma fumed, breaking them out of their heated argument.

Eyes wide with remembrance that she was there, Neal turned and began "Emma…"

"Both of you are crazy," she concluded, taking slow steps backwards toward the door, staring at both of them outrageously.

Jefferson just shrugged. "'Mad' is probably a little more appropriate, given the circumstances, but – "

"No, wait –" Neal cried in a panic, lunging toward her.

Emma was already sprinting out the door, feeling suffocated by all the knowledge that had just been heaved upon her. With a quick glance back, she saw that they had started to follow her and sped up. As she ran down the sidewalk toward one of the more busier streets in hopes of losing them faster in a crowd, she tried to convince herself that they were insane, that all they had said was impossible, but the one, hazy memory she had, the one she believed had just been a pain inflicted dream, kept her from being fully convinced. That flicker of doubt, though, was what scared her the most. She just needed time to think it through.

Body on auto-pilot, she was just about to sprint across another street when something fisted in the back of her shirt and propelled her backwards. Stumbling a bit in surprise, a puff of air blew across her face as a car whizzed by in front of her, right where she probably would've been if she hadn't been stopped. Well, damn. As she was still trying to comprehend what could've just happened, she was spun around and she barely registered a man's face before he suddenly crashed his lips to hers.

Almost involuntarily, she immediately reacted and sunk into the kiss, like her body was acting on its own accord. But.. no. No. Kissing random strangers on the street was not okay, no matter how good of a kisser they may be. The man had her head locked against his with his hand, so she began to shove her hands against his chest in an attempt to get him off.

He quickly pulled back, but still kept her within his hold, her continuing to stare up at him with indignant outrage. Okay, he was good-looking, she would give him that. But still. As he desperately searched her face, before devastation washed over him. "No," he croaked, and for some reason, a festering guilt rose up within her as he looked at her like she'd just confirmed his worst nightmare was true. She stared back up at him, mouth agape unable to form any words. His eyes were the lightest shade of blue she had ever seen and they tugged at a faint familiarity in her chest. A quick movement caught her eye over his shoulder, though, before she could dwell on it, and she saw the dark blonde haired man from the bar finally catching up with her, doing his best to maneuver through the thick flux of people occupying the sidewalks. Panic starting to rush through her, Emma tried to frantically wrangle herself out of the man's arms to start running again.

Noticing her reaction, he tensed with alertness and turned his head to follow her line of vision. "Damn it," he muttered frustratingly under his breath, his accent surprising her, when he spotted the crazy guy with the scarf weaving through the crowd toward them. He moved his hand down from her neck and gripped her upper arm tightly, commanding her attention. "I know you're confused but it's very important that you listen to me, Emma," he pleaded calmly, but there was still a waver of desperation in his voice he couldn't hide. Upon hearing her name, her eyes automatically snapped back up to his. They were wide and earnest, trying to convey something she couldn't quite figure out, "Go straight back to your apartment and wait for me there, don't open the door for anyone else, do you understand?" She glanced down, finally beginning to take him in. The noticeable eyeliner and the earring were already a bit much. But… he was wearing all black leather. And, she noticed with a bit of fear stirring in her stomach, was that a fucking hook as his hand? How had he managed to even get around Boston without someone calling the cops on him? Who the hell was this guy? Besides, what gave him permission to just run around kissing people? A violent shake of her body broke her out of her thoughts. "Do you understand?" he snarled impatiently, resorting to a threatening manner to try to get her to do what he wanted.

"Yes," Emma lied smoothly, now desperate to get out his grip. Everything about him was too intense for her to handle right now. And she could still feel his kiss lingering on her lips. She hated herself for not being angrier about it, especially now that the rage she could see in his eyes was beginning to freak her out.

He stared at her for another beat, the appeasement of her promise visible on his face, before he turned toward the scarf man and started to charge at him in a violent manner.

Like hell she was going back to her apartment.

Adrenaline flying, Emma ran with no destination in mind, just wanting to get as far away from all this madness as she could and take some time to think. Think about all their words and what they meant and who was telling the truth.

Getting stopped on a corner by a stoplight, she bent over with her hands on her knees, taking the break to catch her breath. There was a screech of tires halting and she looked up to see a car pulled over directly in front of her, the window rolled down revealing a young woman with dark hair and mocha skin. "Get in, Emma," she ordered anxiously, and when Emma just continued to stare blankly up at her in confusion, she went on, "Get in, I can help you. I know where your son is," the woman added confidently.

At this point, she knew it wasn't smart to trust anyone, and she wasn't sure what to believe, but if she had a son out there waiting for her, she wanted to find him no matter what. She would have to keep her guard up from now and at least she knew she could fight off a girl easier than a man if it came to it. She took a hesitant step toward the car. "Who are you?" Emma asked, her breathing still labored.

"Tamara," the woman answered, a reassuring smile on her face, "I'm a friend."

For an inexplicable moment, the man's who had kissed her face flew through her mind with the gut feeling that she should turn back now, but she quickly shook it away. One kiss shouldn't be enough to earn her trust. For all she knew, he was planning to slice her throat with that hook.

With thoughts only on a child who was still a blurry image in her head, she got in. "Where are we going?" Emma immediately asked the moment the car started moving toward the highway.

Tamara took a quick glance over at her, a sly smile on her face, "Storybrooke."

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