Author's Note: this was written for a prompt from Tumblr - AU where Emma is the mayor and Regina is the bail bondsperson. Since it is AU, there's no curse here. I hope you all enjoy.

The pages are creased and crinkled, worn even though they're only a few weeks old. But in those few weeks they've been pored over during every stolen moment, the words whispered over and over until they've become imprinted on his mind. He doesn't need them anymore, the words and image the brightest memory he has.

He feels sometimes – like now, in the darkness of the tiny apartment, with only the muted neon lights of the city surrounding them to see by – like they are a tangible thing that he can grasp hold of, even if the papers aren't there. They have been becoming more and more real to him with each passing day until this moment when he knows for sure that they are. They are real, this is real, and he has to act on it now.

His fingers twitch around the crumpled pages as he moves quietly across the room. He pushes the couch cushions up to reveal a tiny collection of comic books. Thumbing through, he pulls out the one he wants – Wolverine vs. Hulk – and flips through it until he finds the bus ticket that's been hidden away for two days now.

Sliding the comic books back into their hiding place, he slips the ticket into the waiting backpack at the foot of the couch and glances down at the papers in his hand once more. The top of the first printout proclaims and he mouths the name that he's had memorized from the minute he first saw it on the screen.

Emma Swan.

He shifts the pages until he sees the one with Storybrooke Daily Mirror emblazoned on the top. The picture stares up at him then, the blonde with the pretty smile and the caption under it reading 'Mayor Swan enjoys the annual Miner's Day celebration'.

His fingers trace the face that he already knows as well as his mother's before he carefully refolds the papers and places them in the backpack too. He slings the backpack up on his shoulder and then moves silently across to the door that is slightly ajar not only because it doesn't latch, but because his mother worries about him during the night.

She's a light sleeper, so he doesn't enter the room, too afraid of waking her. Instead, he squints through the darkness, making out dark hair on a stained pillow and the rise and fall of ratty blankets. He presses two fingers to his lips and blows a silent kiss across to her.

Then he turns and whispers, "I'm sorry, Mom," over his shoulder as he slips out the window and on to the fire escape.

He climbs down carefully and moves quickly out of the back alley onto the still busy street. It takes him nearly five minutes before a cabbie stops and each minute his heart beats faster and faster, afraid that he will be caught. Only once he is in the backseat, seatbelt buckled like Mom always taught him, does he begin to relax.

"Where to kid?" The cabbie asks, eying him.

He pulls out a twenty and holds it up. "The bus station."

The cabbie steps on the gas.

"I'm sorry, Mom." He whispers again to the slowly disappearing building in the rear view mirror.

The bus ride is a long one and he spends most of it rubbing his fingers over the papers and hoping that his mom won't freak out too badly when she realizes he's gone. He should've left her a note, he thinks, but it's too late for that now. He considers abandoning the mission, hopping right back on another bus to Boston and he's just about got himself convinced when the large white sign comes into view.

The sun is just coming up, casting a golden glow over the sign that proclaims Welcome To Storybrooke, making it look like something right out of a movie. It's beautiful and quaint and gives him a feeling of home that he's never really had before, no matter how much his mom has tried. "Storybrooke," he murmurs and finds he likes the way the name trips off his tongue.

When the bus finally stops in front of a small diner, he is the first one off, racing down the steps to take in the town. His eyes dart everywhere, trying to see everything at once. Little shops line the sidewalk and there's a large clock tower that is just chiming the hour. Birds are singing in the trees and people are passing by, smiling and calling out to each other as they pass.

He's so taken by the sights that he startles when the bus pulls away from the curb. He's the only one who has gotten off, it seems. He chews his lip for a minute, all of his mother's warnings about strangers and strange places and not trusting anyone ringing in his ears before he finally takes a few tentative steps towards the door of the diner.

A bell rings out, signaling his arrival, and a pretty girl with red streaks in her hair turns towards him, an easy smile on her lips. "Well hello there." She grins at him as he climbs up onto a stool. "What can I get for you today?"

He considers ordering some food for a moment before he shakes off the thought. He's only got a little bit of money and you never know when you might need it. Plus, he's got more important things to do than eat right now. "I was hoping you could help me find someone." He smiles back, using his puppy dog eyes.

The waitress grins. "Well, for a handsome guy like you, I will certainly try. Who are you looking for?"

"Emma." He says her name aloud, surprised at how easy it is for him to say. "Emma Swan."

"Madam Mayor?" A voice rings out from the phone on Emma's desk, causing her to look up from her paperwork.

"Yes, Ashley?"

"There's… someone here to see you."

Emma frowns. Ashley sounds strange, which probably means that whoever is here to see her, she won't like it. Rubbing a hand over her face, she sighs. "Send them in, Ashley."

She sits up straighter, pushing her shoulders back, and keeps her gaze locked on the door. For the past ten years, the town has been more than welcoming to her. The citizens of Storybrooke took her in when she had nowhere else to go and helped her get back on her feet and heal. Then, they had gone above and beyond, choosing to elect her as mayor after the previous mayor passed away. Still, there are a small number of citizens who seem to have a problem with her being mayor, even though she's done a damn fine job for the past five years, thank you very much.

So she expects that it's going to be one of those citizens who comes marching through the door, spouting off about something else that needs done or that she's done wrong. But instead, the door swings open to reveal a small boy who looks like he can't be any more than ten.

She's never seen him before, and she's pretty certain she knows everyone in town by now, so she blinks at him before standing up and coming around to the front of her desk. "Hello there. Can I help you with something?"

The little boy looks down at his feet for a moment, before he glances back up at her. "Are you Emma Swan?"

Emma chuckles just a bit. Her name is on the door of the office. "Yep, that'd be me. And you are?"

"I'm Henry." He smiles brightly. "I'm your son."

The blaring of the alarm clock jars Regina awake, even as her hand flies out to smack the snooze button. Her whole body aches in protest against the movements. Yesterday had been another rough collar, and though she'd tried to hide that fact from Henry, she knows she won't be able to today.

She doubts even a hot shower and pain killers will be enough to mask these injuries, although she'll certainly try. But it had been a pretty big payoff, so she doesn't regret it for a second.

The alarm blares again and she forces herself to get up, hissing through the pain. She moves out to the living room, her steps slow and tentative. "Henry," she calls, trying to make her voice sound normal, "time to wake up."

There's no reaction, no movement from the couch where Henry's been sleeping, and Regina frowns just a bit, moving further into the room. "Come on, Henry, you need to get up."

There's still no movement and she begins to feel dread creeping up her spine. "Henry?" She flips on the light and feels acid burn her throat as she takes in the empty couch. "Henry, are you here?"

The sudden burst of fear and adrenaline overrides any pain she was feeling as she rushes through the tiny apartment, checking the little bathroom, the run down kitchen, the small closets that are barely big enough for him to fit in and calling his name over and over.

No. This cannot be happening. No. No. No.

"Henry! Henry!"

It's on the second trip through the apartment that she catches sight of the window and the fact it isn't latched. She races to it, pulling it up and looking out, feeling her heart lurch as she notices that the fire escape stairs have been lowered down to street level. "Henry!" She calls out, her eyes scanning the alley frantically. But her son is nowhere to be found.

She whirls around and that's when she sees it. Or rather, doesn't see it. Henry's backpack is gone. She races to the couch and shoves the cushion up, taking in the comic book collection stashed there. She pulls them out and flips through them frantically, noticing that the newest ones she's bought for him as well as his favorites are missing.

For one second relief floods her as she realizes that he hasn't been taken. That this isn't a kidnapping by someone that she's hauled back in to jail who's out for revenge. The comics and backpack wouldn't be gone if it was.

But then, the pain comes back a hundred fold. Henry is gone. He packed his backpack and he left. He left her. Ran away.

Tears fall unbidden down her face as she collapses to the floor against the couch, clutching the comic books and sobbing.

"Henry. Henry."

"Wh-what?" Emma chokes the word out as she stares at the little boy, his words echoing in her ears. I'm your son. She forces herself to stand straighter, to not give in to the need to slouch or fall down in shock. She is the mayor and she must conduct herself accordingly. Hasn't that been what she's been telling herself for the last five years? "N-no. No. That's impossible. I don't have a son! Where are your parents?"

The little boy - Henry - looks up at her with an easy smile. "Ten years ago, did you give up a baby for adoption?" Emma's eyes widen and he takes that as all the answer he needs. "That was me."

Emma feels her stomach turn and tears begin to burn at her eyes. "I - give me a minute."

She rushes for the door to the private bathroom, shutting herself in and allowing the tears to fall for a brief moment. For the past ten years she has worked so hard to heal, to forget about the baby that she'd held only once before giving him away and sending him off towards his best chance. And she had finally managed to succeed, to find a new life and a new start. And now he shows up in her office.

No. This cannot be happening. No. No. No.

"Emma?" She hears him call through the door. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes." She forces out, brushing the tears off her cheeks quickly. "I - I'll be right out."

She splashes water on her face and checks to make sure she looks presentable before she forces herself to push the door open and go back into her office. Henry is sitting on the couch, his backpack at his feet, flipping through a comic book. He looks up when he hears the door and offers her a wide smile. Her stomach flips again.

She grabs the phone on her desk, hitting the button to connect her to Ashley. "Ashley, I need you to hold all my calls and cancel all of my appointments for the rest of the day."

"Oh!" Ashley sounds surprised and just a bit flustered by these instructions. Well good, at least Emma's not alone now. "Of course, Madam Mayor."

"And I need you to call Kathryn and have her come to my office as soon as possible. Tell her it's an emergency."

"Yes, of course. But - Madam Mayor, are you alright? Is there anything I can do?"

Emma smiles slightly at the care and concern of her secretary. "I'm okay, Ashley. Just - something's come up and I need to deal with it and I think Kathryn is my best bet here."

"I'll call her right now."

"Thank you, Ashley." Emma says before hanging up the phone and looking back at Henry, who still seems engrossed in his comic books. "Okay, kid -" she grimaces, feeling too much like her old self for calling him that, "err, I mean, Henry, I need you to answer some questions for me."

Henry carefully tucks his comic away and smiles up at Emma as she sits down on the couch next to him. His birth mother is really pretty, even though she looks pretty freaked out right now. "Sure."

"What makes you think that you're my son?"

Henry quickly turns and rummages in his backpack, pulling out the ragged papers and thrusting them at her. "I found you on the internet."

Emma feels the start of a major scam happening here, but as she unfolds the papers and reads over them, she realizes that Henry is telling the truth. There's information in here that couldn't have been obtained except in the court records - which were supposed to be seal, as it was a closed adoption.

"Henry," she tries his name out again, "how did you even know to look for me? I mean, it was supposed to be a closed adoption, you weren't supposed to know about me at all. Not you or your parents."

"After I found out I was adopted, I knew I had to look for you. I knew you'd be able to help me."

"Help you?" Emma's heart sinks. "Why do you need help?"

Henry just smiles a secretive little smile and ignores the question. "I'm really good at finding people. I get it from my mom. My other mom."

Emma's head spins. "Your other - Henry, where are your parents? Do they even know you're here?"

Henry looks down at his lap and she knows then. Oh god. Oh god, this is so, so bad. She glances at the door, willing Kathryn to walk through it, because she needs backup. Badly.

"Henry." She tries to use her best 'mom voice', which turns out to be the voice she uses when dealing with those constituents who are less than pleased with her, and surprisingly it works.

"It's just my mom and me. My dad died when I was two." Henry admits softly and Emma feels her heart shatter once more. "And I didn't tell my mom I was coming to find you."

"Henry!" She gasps. "She's probably worried sick about you! She probably thinks something horrible happened. Where is she? I'm taking you back there right now."

"I - I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Emma stares at him, trying to look for a lie in his words.

"After my dad died things got bad." Henry says slowly. "We didn't have enough money and we had to move around a lot. Mom took a job as a bail bondsperson. She - she has to go all over trying to track people down."

Emma's eyes widened in something like horror. "So she leaves you alone without any idea where she is? You're ten!"

Henry quickly shakes his head. "No. No, Emma, she's not a bad mom. She isn't!" He doesn't want Emma to think that. He doesn't want her to try and have him taken away from his mom. "It's just really hard. But she takes really good care of me and she loves me. I swear."

"Henry." Emma sighs, helplessly.

"We were in Boston when I left. She was home with me. I left while she was sleeping." Henry admits quietly.

"Boston? You came all the way from Boston by yourself?"

"I know how to take care of myself." Henry defends.

"Well, I'm glad for that. And I'm glad that your mom is a good mom, even if she's had some tough times. Which is why you're coming with me and we're going back to Boston." Emma says, the only possible solution she can come up with.

"What? No! We can't do that!" Henry protests. "I told you, my mom is really good at finding people. She's probably on her way here now. If you try to take me back, we'll miss each other and when she finds out I'm not here, she'll really panic and she'll think that you've kidnapped me."

"Because I'm your birth mother." Emma murmurs, feeling dread creeping up. Oh god. This is so, so, so bad.

"Madam Mayor?" Ashley's voice cuts through Emma's thoughts. "Kathryn is here."

"Oh thank god." Emma whispers. "Send her in please, Ashley."

"Emma?" Kathryn asks as she comes through the door, "What's going on? What's the emergency?"

Emma looks at Kathryn and then back to Henry. "Kathryn, meet Henry." She motions to him and then forces the words from her throat. "He's my son."