Her boots were loud in the empty office. Emma paused at what she assumed would become her desk. Where was Graham? He was supposed to meet her at eight, but he was still a no-show half an hour later. Emma ran her fingers through her hair. At least it gave her the chance to explore the station.

Fifteen minutes later, she returned to the desk. Unsurprisingly, it was tiny. There were only two holding cells, for crying out loud. She sighed deeply and sank into the chair. All her calls to him went answered. Where the hell was he? She winced and shifted in the uncomfortable chair.

Suddenly, she heard a noise in the hall, and before she could move, Graham burst into the room.

"Oh good, you're here."

Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Hello to you too. Stuck in traffic?"

Graham ignored her. He marched over to the other desk in the room and unlocked a drawer. He pulled out a gun and a pair of handcuffs.

"All yours, Emma. Now, let's hustle."

Emma stared at him.

"What's happened?"

Graham sighed and scratched at the stubble around his jaw.

"A coma patient woke up and is now wandering around somewhere."

He picked up his keys.

"Get your stuff and let's go. The more time we waste, the move time we lose."

He strode off, leaving Emma to gather her thoughts and her gun.

A flashbulb went off in Emma's head. That had to be the person Mary Margaret was talking about! She pulled out her phone and fired off a quick text to Mary Margaret to tell her that she was right, and that she would be home late tonight.

The woods was their last stop. Emma had never been one who embraced nature. She'd never gone camping in her life. She almost did once, there was a foster family that she was staying with and they were gearing up for a trip… she sighed. Not like any of the good times in her life ever lasted.

Graham seemed to be a natural though. While Emma was battling branches, he was racing through the darkened forest with ease. Suddenly he came to an abrupt stop, and Emma crashed into him.

"Sorry!"

Graham didn't budge, even though she barrelled into him at a speed that would have knocked a normal man down.

"Graham?"

He put his hands over his ears and sank to the ground.

Emma stared in horror, not entirely sure what was happening. Graham lowered his hands and rose slowly, but Emma noticed that he was shaking. He spun around to face her, his eyes wild.

"It's you." He breathed. Emma continued to stare at him, though out of shock instead of horror. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders.

"The wolf…it all started with you! You saw it didn't you? I did too! I know that wolf! It's me!"

Emma grabbed his hands and pushed him away.

"What the hell? Graham, are you okay? You're not making any sense!"

He blinked a little, and Emma could see the sense seeping back into his mind.

"I'm…sorry. I don't know what…"

"EMMA!"

A desperate voice tore through the trees. Emma tensed. That voice was familiar…yet she didn't want to leave things with Graham like this. He was clearly having some sort of a breakdown…

Graham did not share her concern though. He snapped back into Sheriff Mode.

"That came from near the bridge." Noted Graham. "Let's go."

Before Emma could protest, he had taken off, leaving Emma to scramble behind him.

Ten minutes later, she found him in a clearing, near a small brook. The stream in itself did not look particularly deep, but it was nestled in a little valley, and so the bridge ran across it extended from the hill on one side to the other. She remembered passing it on her way into town, and remembered rolling her eyes at the juvenile graffiti that changed the Toll Bridge sign to "Troll Bridge."

She hurried over to Graham, and gasped when she realized that the desperate voice belonged to Mary Margaret.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret looked up at her tearfully. "I'm sorry, I know you said…but I felt so guilty…I…"

She gestured in the direction of the stream.

"I followed you to the woods and I thought I could help you cover more ground and then...I found him."

The 'him' was a good-looking blonde man who was clothed only in a hospital gown who was standing so still that Emma didn't realize that he was a person.

She took a step forward only for Graham to stop her.

"He seems to be sleep walking. I don't think we should disturb him."

Emma glared. "Then how do we get him to come back with us?"

Graham opened his mouth, and then closed it slowly and returned Emma's glare.

"Let me try."

Emma and Graham turned to look at Mary Margaret. She had a sad look in her eyes, and Emma's heart went out to her. She was clearly being eaten up by guilt. Emma looked at Graham, who responded with a hesitant nod.

Mary Margaret led the way to the man, who appeared to be mesmerized by the ripples in the water.

"Hey," she whispered.

Emma watched anxiously. She glanced at Graham, who appeared to be as anxious as she was.

The man slowly turned around, as if he was in a daze. His unfocused eyes landed on Mary Margaret, and a smile grew across his face.

"I knew you'd find me." He told her, and then collapsed.

Mary Margaret rushed to pull him into her arms, but Graham was quicker and scooped the man up into his arms.

"I'll take him back. Emma, please take Mary Margaret home."

He said it in such a way that Emma knew that she couldn't argue back, and she just nodded in agreement.

Regina was putting her turnovers in the fridge when Graham burst in.

"My my, Sheriff. I didn't realize I had called you over." She said coyly.

Graham stared at her with a look of intensity that worried her.

"It's over."

Regina blinked. Then she burst into laughter.

"I'm serious."

That made her stop. She looked at him.

"It's because of Ms. Swan, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Regina was surprised. She never thought he would admit it.

"She's making me feel things...making me remember things... I don't know what, but I intend to find out. Goodnight Madam Mayor."

He left as abruptly as he had arrived.

Regina closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

"That's too bad, Sheriff."

Graham entered the station with muddled thoughts of Emma Swan. His chest ached, but he did not know if it was for sorrow, pain or love. He decided a swig of the scotch that he had stashed in the desk would help quelled his troubled mind, but that thought was squashed when he discovered Emma at his desk. Before he could reprimand her for presence, she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"I know something's up, Graham. If I'm going to be your deputy, I need you to be honest with me."

He smiled at her.

"I'm fine."

She looked at him coolly.

"You're lying."

She said it as if it were fact. It was, but she seemed so sure of it that he was momentarily taken aback.

He made his decision. He stormed over to her, swept her up into his arms and kissed her. Memories started to flood his brain. Woods, a princess and an evil queen. Then when she returned his kiss, his chest began to burn. A final image splashed across his eyes, and he tore himself away.

"I remember." He whispered brokenly, while she stared at him in shock.

Then he felt it again. That heat in his chest which morphed into a searing pain. It was as if someone was squeezing his heart. He clutched his chest and fell to the floor. Emma knelt next to him.

"Graham? Graham? What's happening?!"

He looked at her. He saw the fear in her eyes. Did she know? He didn't think so.

"Saviour." He mumbled, but she didn't hear him because she began fumbling for her phone. He began to drift and out of consciousness.

The last thing he saw was Emma Swan crying into his chest.