"You what?" Regina screeched. She stood up abruptly and clenched her fists tight.

Graham had the decency to look a little embarrassed, but he stood his ground.

"I need the help."

Regina glared at him.

"You've never needed help before."

Graham glared back.

"Well, I need it now."

Regina walked around her desk and peered into his eyes.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, out of curiosity rather than concern.

Graham's strong façade cracked a little.

"I've been feeling…a little…off…I've been…dreaming about wolves…" he started, and trailed off, no doubt realizing the stupidity of what he had just confessed. He cleared his throat. "And with our little…"

Regina waved his hand to cut him off.

"I see. Well, she's your responsibility now."

She sat down at her desk and dismissed him with a flick of her wrist. He nodded curtly and strode out.

Regina watched him leave and her eyes narrowed. Something was happening to Graham. Something that would mess with her plan. It was time to get serious. She rose once more. Time to visit the mausoleum.

Emma awoke to the smell of coffee and freshly baked croissants. She grinned in her half-awake state. She could get used to this. She stretched her arms over her head, and pushed her blanket off her.

"Good morning!" chirped Mary Margaret. She was standing in the kitchen area, two coffees in hand. "Coffee?"

Emma grinned. "Yes please."

She padded over to the kitchen to take the mug from Mary Margaret's hand and started to sip slowly, enjoying each hit of caffeine.

"So, what are you plans for today?"

Emma shrugged.

"I have to meet Graham. We have to go over my contract. Then I have to go pick up my car and I'm free for the day. What about you?"

Mary Margaret smiled at her.

"I usually volunteer at the hospital on Saturdays."

Emma smirked. This woman was too good to be true. She was a real-life fairy tale princess, and Emma understood why Henry was convinced she was one.

"Take the book."

Mary Margaret stared at her in confusion.

"Read it to the kids. I won't be seeing Henry anytime soon, so you might as well."

Mary Margaret beamed at her.

"Thanks Emma! That's a great idea!"

She headed over to Emma's jacket that had been tossed onto the coffee table, and pulled the book from underneath it.

"Hopefully they won't have such active imaginations."

Emma snorted into her coffee.

Emma wandered through the town aimlessly. She debated whether or not she should go into Granny's and wait for Mary Margaret to get back. She passed an ice cream parlour that she made a mental note to check out later, and then her thoughts began to wander. Doc had assured her he'd drop off her car at Mary Margaret's this evening, and everything had been sorted out with Graham. Well, everything to do with paperwork. Emma rolled her eyes at their argument over uniforms. Why'd he think that a uniform would give her authority? He didn't wear one, and she sure as hell wasn't going to. She had her badge and that was enough. She fingered it unconsciously, and wondered if she should clip it to her jacket instead of belt loop. She'd make sure to stand her ground when she went to collect her gun this evening.

"Well well. If it isn't the town's new deputy."

Emma felt her hackles rise, and she spun furiously onto the source of the jibe.

Killian Jones stood before her, his hands raised in a universal surrender. He smirked at her, but there was no smile in his eyes.

Emma calmed down immediately, and felt a little guilty. She hadn't considered how Killian would feel about her decision, and she figured that he wasn't too happy about it. She didn't blame him.

He lowered his hands and stepped into her personal space. His face drew closer to hers, his eyes never leaving her face.

"I didn't realize you were so fond of our little town, Miss Swan."

His breath was warm against her cheek. She swallowed.

"I'm doing it for Henry."

Her bombshell had the desired effect. He sprung back as if burnt.

"For Henry." He said quietly, and then began to laugh harshly.

Emma had not expected this.

"Suddenly you're an expert on my son, are you, Miss Swan? You know what he wants, what he thinks?"

Suddenly he was in her space again.

"Do you know what my son thinks of me, Miss Swan?"

His voice was low and coated with emotion.

He was close enough for Emma to feel angry heat radiate off him, to see the flecks of gray in his eyes. She shivered and shook her head slowly.

"He thinks I'm a villain. He thinks…" he waved his left arm, demonstrating the prosthetic that completed it, "…that I'm Captain Hook."

He laughed his harsh laugh once more.

Emma felt the guilt flood her system.

She placed her hand on his shoulder in an effort to calm him down. His eyes followed her movement.

"I'm sorry, Killian."

Her hand unconsciously slipped a little, coming to rest on his chest.

They stood still for several seconds. He was breathing deeply, but he did not seem as angry as he was before. His eyes flickered to her lips before connecting with her eyes.

He placed a warm hand on top of hers.

"I don't need sympathy, Emma." He whispered softly.

He moved her hand off his chest and strode away before she could react.

Emma returned to Mary Margaret's apartment, her mind (and heart) in a mess. Her encounter with Killian had shaken her. Was her decision to stay in Storybrooke selfish? Maybe she hadn't thought it through enough. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. Hopefully Mary Margaret had some advice on the subject. As she reached for the doorknob, it was yanked away from her. Mary Margaret stood before her, eyes wild.

"Emma! Something happened!" She sounded terrified, and Emma's pulse began to race. Had something happened to Henry? Before she could say anything, Mary Margaret had dragged her inside the apartment.

"Today at the hospital," Mary Margaret started, then began to pace, nervously wringing her hands.

"It's just that…I know what I saw! I'm not a crazy person!" She said, looking at Emma pleadingly.

Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you're certainly doing a good impression of one."

Mary Margaret turned to glare at her, but the effect was ruined by the smile she couldn't keep off her face.

"Very funny, Emma."

Emma smiled in return.

"Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Mary Margaret nodded and took in a deep breath.

"I read to a coma patient today. I've always passed by his bed, and today for some reason, I felt that I should read to him. I've never seen anyone visit him. He's the local John Doe. I felt bad. And then…"

"And then?"

"He moved. I swear Emma, he shifted in his sleep. His eyes fluttered, and he moved his hands towards me."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"That's what I thought! It was over in a minute, but when I told Doctor Whale about it, he dismissed me completely, and now I've begun to doubt my sanity."

Emma rubbed Mary Margaret's back soothingly.

"Well, I guess it's because he didn't see it, and John Doe didn't leap out of bed and start doing the can-can."

Mary Margaret giggled.

"Well, if anything happens again, hopefully Doctor Whale will be there. In any case, I'm going to go visit him tomorrow."

It felt as if he were coming out of a dark tunnel. Everything hurt, especially his side. David groaned, and struggled to sit up. He felt so weak. Slowly he opened his eyes. Luckily the lights in the room were dim. Still it took him a few minutes for his eyes to adjust. He blinked, not trusting his eyes.

Where was he? What was this place? It looked like a hospital. Was he in an accident?

He threw off his blanket, and struggled to his feet. Yanking the various wires connected to him with careless disregard, he struggled towards the door.

Maybe he could find someone who could make some sense of it. Maybe he could find someone who could tell him his name.

The only thoughts that swirled around in his brain were that of trolls and a whispered promise that she'd always find him. Who was she?