EMMA

Emma had known enough to expect that the peace would not last, but enjoyed the early days of mothering, and the bliss that had washed over Storybrooke still. Her husband was back, safe in her arms, and they lay together on the porch of their home in their hammock, their new child nestled between them. Both savouring the quietness of the moment, and the warmth created not only from the love, but the heat of the three bodies, lying relaxed and content with each other.

Killian had his fun reminding her that his "moving pictures" had literally help save them, and she had her fun torturing him that he had broken his own firmly held rule about being with past versions of themselves. She chuckled at the story of past her, entertained at the idea of how she would have reacted to him, then, at that point in her life.

She cried a little when he told her of Neal, of how he helped save them, and how they had waited at day after Killian left, staying with her, for them to make their peace with each other. To find friendship and true forgiveness. She did not need to remember, just knowing they had that chance was so special and moving to her. It was the only sadness in what had been just the greatest moments, such happiness in her life.

They agreed wholeheartedly on one thing though, no more time travel. And both of them started carrying concentrated memory potions on them, part joke gift, part caution from Regina, desperately hoping to never need them again.

But then, at that moment, the wind in the air, the sun beating down softly on them, the love of her life in her arms, she had this one pure, good, perfect moment.

They all feel asleep together, tangled together the three of them like that, and Henry, arriving later took a picture of them, capturing for them forever when everything was right and good in their world. That Christmas it was there under the tree from Henry, framed and beautiful, and Emma hung it up in their home, right beside a picture of them and Henry, in a place of pride.

In a place full of love.

RAVEN (THE FUTURE)

She was all alone.

She did not know how to be alone.

She was going to die.

Everyone else was gone.

Everywhere, all around her, fallen where they stood, where the bodies of the people she loved, slumped down in permanent slumber. Every last soul, but the two of them. Her and the monster.

She had never really known fear, but guessed that this is what she felt, her heart beating frantically in her chest, her breathes coming rapidly in panic, tears, hot, hot tears pouring down her face.

She watched as the villain, somehow impossibly, raised partly from the dead, lingered triumphantly over the slumped bodies of her foes, half dead at least, flesh not even fully attached anymore on her body, from so many previous battles and encounters with her family. She had hit them all, the whole town so suddenly with the curse, the sleeping curse that no one had time to react, no one had even seen Maleficent coming.

And now they were all down, unconscious, close to death, and the curse was one that trues loves kiss could not break.

She knew this as she already tried, kissing both her parents repeatedly, cupping their faces in her small hands and pecking at them both, begging them both to wake up. Stroking her mother's hair, pounding her fathers chest. She had some how managed to even drag them together despite her weak arms and lack of strength, pushing there own lips into each other in case her own love for them had not been enough.

She was the only survivor of it all. She, like her mother had magic, but unlike anyone she had ever met, could shift time itself if properly motivated. Her parents encouraged every part of her magic but this part. It was an absolute rule, completely banned. She was raised with stories of how time travel was dangerous, and not to be done, but rebelled and practiced quietly, just a few minutes, nothing significant when they were not their to watch her. Like her parents, she sometimes bent the rules.

And luckily for her, like her father, she was also a survivor.

When the curse had hit, she managed enough power inside of her to shift herself just slightly ahead in time, enough to clear the curse, but not enough to have her very heart crushed at the sight of the aftermath. The bodies on the ground. Not enough to save anyone else. She tortured herself that she had not thought to take with her anyone else. She was used to be protected, not protecting. She laid between her parents still bodies, clutching at each of their lifeless hands, letting the despair take her briefly, wondering what was to be done. She arranged them as close as possible together, as she knew they would want to be. Entwined their hands together in what looked to be eternal slumber.

The demon rounded the corner, to ascertain that her parents were down and helpless.

There was no where to hide. Her skin could not fake the strange colour all the other's skin turned with the curse.

Maleficent had seen her, there was nothing to be done about that, and being her parents child, she stood up and head on, dark hair whipping about her head and blue eyes blazing, confronting the Devil herself, having nothing more to lose, brave and strong, preparing to shift time again, her only defense against attack. Her hands glowed with her magic, bright, bright white, and evil herself cocked her head to the side and regarded her interested, but unthreatened, her eyes not even shinning with pity, she was no longer capable of such an emotion, only contempt.

Contempt for a child, who faced her like she could stop her.

For Raven was just that, a child.

Raven was nine years old.

Yet as little as her body was, not fully formed, as new as her magic was, still as young as Raven was, she was not weak and she was not one to underestimate. She had been raised surrounded by her parents adventures. She knew from her mother that the source of her magic was love, love for them all, and she focused hard, small spine stiff with determination, allowing all the memories of her happy, happy childhood flow through her head and channelling it. She turned her fear into joy, her despair into love. She thought of them all, her love for them and their love for her.

Maleficent was savouring her triumph too much to strike fast, enjoying the suffering of the child of her enemy too much to put it to a quick end. Her eyes, if the half empty sockets could be called that cold, and cruel. By the time she finally struck out, her magic angry, hot and raging, Raven had gathered the strength inside her to shift the very nature of time, to run to the very people she had absolute faith could save her and the town.

Raven shifted the very air around her, the fabric of her own existence. And like a portal, she took herself to the last image in her head. A photograph of them and her, as a little baby, that had hung lovingly on the wall her entire life.

And right onto her parents porch and into the past.

Thank you everyone for reading. I have not written Raven's story yet, but I have a potential plot in my head, so we will see :). I have a thing for time travel, and this time I am going to have it beta first, but I have it all in my head waiting to pour out now that my other story is done.

XOXOX Thanks again. I hope you liked it.