"He seems familiar," confessed Emma.
Her foster brother sat across from her. They were in a booth in the corner of the pub near her apartment. Emma had just told Chris everything that had happened that day.
He looked sympathetic. "Emma, this is the first time I've seen you in three years, but think back to when we used to get together when you lived in Boston. You always thought something was missing. And not just because you didn't have your parents."
Emma nodded. "I know. Then two years later Henry and I moved to New York. But it's weird. I don't even remember moving. I just remember driving with Henry in the Bug. Like we were leaving from somewhere. We moved to New York, because it suddenly meant more to me than Boston. Like something important had happened there. I dream about it once in a while. Driving in the bug, and then I get these strange flashes of faces I've never seen before, but they seem familiar. Am I making any sense? I must seem crazy."
"I would never call you crazy, Ems," said Chris, with a smile. "And I can assure you that my parents aren't in danger, so Killian Jones wasn't talking about the Swans. Maybe he really does know your real parents."
"But how would that even be possible?"
Chris shrugged. "There are a lot of strange things in this world, Emma. Maybe you should give this guy a chance to explain."
"Do you really think so? I'm happy with my life, and on the small chance that Jones isn't crazy, it could change forever."
"I know that you're happy, with Henry, but tell me something, has it ever really felt like enough?"
"No," admitted Emma, feeling guilty, because Henry should be enough for her. "Henry is my whole world, and I love him more than anyone, but when Killian showed up at my door, I felt something that I've never felt before. It was only for a second, but then it was gone."
"I think that it might be worth while to find what that something was," advised Chris. "You deserve to have love in your life, and you deserve a family. Maybe Killian Jones is the key to finding both."
"You always know exactly what to say, Chris. I'm sorry we don't keep in touch more often," she drained the last of her drink.
"It's okay. I know it's hard for you. Come on, Emma. You should get back to Henry."
"Okay," Emma slid out of the booth, teetering on her five-inch heels. Chris gripped her hand lightly to steady her, and they walked out of the pub together.
Chris hugged her, and kissed her on the forehead. "Goodbye Emma. I hope everything works out. Call me if you ever need anything."
Emma sighed and stepped away as Chris got into a taxi. "Okay," she said, but when she looked away she saw Killian and Henry walking towards her. Henry must've heard her on the phone when she was talking to Chris earlier that day.
Her eyes moved to Killian, and her stomach dropped at the hurt written all over his face. He must've seen, and misinterpreted Chris's goodbye.
Emma couldn't explain why she cared, and why she wanted to explain it all away and make sure that Killian understood that there was nothing romantic between her and Chris. She didn't know Killian Jones, or if she did, she didn't remember him.
Still, she felt his pain as if it were her own. Emma straightened her shoulders and took a few steps to meet her son and the pirate. "What are you two doing here?"
"I was worried about you," said Henry weakly, knowing that her superpower would detect the lie immediately. "Was that Mr. Swan?"
"Yes," said Emma. "How did you know?"
"I heard you on the phone earlier today," said Henry.
Emma glanced at Killian who was being oddly silent. "Well, let's get back to the apartment." She said to her son before turning to Killian, "Thank you for watching Henry."
Killian nodded. "Anything for you, Swan."
"Hey mom, can Killian stay over?" asked Henry. "We had a great time."
"Do you have a place to stay tonight?" she asked, suddenly worried that he'd be on his own. He might be a complete stranger, and perhaps he was crazy, but there was something about him, and her son trusted him. It had to mean something.
Didn't it?
"You need not worry about me, Swan. I'll manage," said Killian.
Emma shook her head. "You can stay on my couch. I owe you for taking care of my son."
"You don't owe me anything, Swan, but I will gladly accept your offer."
He glanced at Henry, who winked, but Emma was too preoccupied to notice. She'd never allowed a man to stay in her apartment.
"You alright there, Swan?' asked Killian, when she didn't move.
"I'm fine," she said, "Let's go home."
-/-
Henry and Killian sat at the kitchen table finishing cups of hot chocolate. Emma was in her bedroom changing into her pajamas.
"Phase one is in motion," said Henry with a small smile. "Trust."
"Aye, that it is," said Killian.
Emma wandered out of the room. "What are you two talking about?"
"Nothing," said Henry, "I was explaining what hot chocolate is."
Emma was unconvinced, but she let it slide for the moment. "Well, Henry, you should get to bed."
"But Mom, its only 10:00," said Henry.
Emma silenced his protest with a look.
"Fine," said Henry, "Good night Mom. Goodnight Killian," he said.
"Good night, lad," said Killian, as the boy went to his room. Then he looked up at Emma, with a smile. "Something you wish to say to me, love?"
Emma flinched at the casual endearment. "Just that I've set up the couch for you," she said quickly.
"Much obliged, Swan," he said. "So, who was the gentleman from earlier." One look at Emma's face and Killian wished he hadn't asked.
"It's hard to explain," said Emma, feeling the hurt that he was trying to hide.
"Apologies, Swan," said Killian. "It's none of my business."
"He's like my brother," said Emma.
Killian was visibly relieved.
"Well," she said gesturing to the couch, "Goodnight, Killian. Thank you for watching Henry." She shifted uncomfortably for a moment before laying a hand on his cheek in a light caress.
Killian stiffened at the contact before leaning into her touch, and then the moment was gone.
Emma swore inwardly. What the hell was she doing? Why did he seem so familiar? She mumbled "good night," before running off to her bedroom.
"Good night, my love," said Killian, so softly that it was unlikely that she heard it.
But she did. And the words stayed with her in her dreams that night, along with images of a beanstalk, a ship, a dense jungle, and a small town in Maine.