An extended stay in Neverland leads to further complications for Emma upon the return to Storybrooke and leaving for New York. This story is AU post-Neverland; includes some canon plots/events, but no Oz or Frozen storylines. General spoilers for season 3. Captain Swan is the main pairing but Snowing and Outlaw Queen are also featured.

Important: the story will contain flashbacks to Neverland/Post-Neverland (indicated by italics) - similar to the way the show paces itself, though mostly only applies to the beginning of the story and any other necessary sections until readers understand what went on during the extra time in Neverland and before Emma+Henry moved to New York as I have made alterations. There are a lot of original plots, as opposed to using or adjusting canon ones, and it's here for the long haul! Also, note that the pregnancy is only a very small part of the beginning. Enjoy!

~ Truth ~

Emma had no way of knowing for sure - not in a place like Storybrooke.

She couldn't go to Dr Whale; it felt like too big a secret to entrust to someone who brought people back from the dead, when he wasn't drinking or doing whatever he did in his free time. Emma couldn't even buy a pregnancy test from the store, even if it was Sneezy on shift. The dwarves were too close-knit and even closer to Snow White. All it would take was for one person to notice her with the pregnancy test box in hand and the whole town would know by noon; Emma was convinced her secret could never be safe if even one person suspected.

The biggest problem wasn't even her lack of options in gaining proof of the terrifying scenario she may have unknowingly created many weeks ago, but the fact that her secret was already known to someone.

The worse someone of all – Regina.

Emma was still furious that Regina had known about the pregnancy before anyone should be capable of realising - even her. Although, Emma could not deny the pain that had shot through her when she'd tried to use dark magic prior to their escape from Neverland. Regina brushed it off in front of the others, then took her aside to privately warn her what it meant. It was that warning, coursing its way through her mind even after they'd been back in Storybrooke for weeks, which led Emma to Regina's house just after sunrise.

Emma pounded on the front door, thankful her parents and son hadn't noticed her slipping out of the apartment earlier.

'Regina, I know you're in there!' Emma called. She only assumed the other woman was sleeping like the rest of the town.

'Of course I am!' Came the angry reply, before the door was yanked open with infuriated force. 'I was sleeping! What the hell do you want?' Regina rightfully snarled at her.

'How can I be sure?' Emma asked immediately before she could change her mind.

'About what?' Regina grumbled. She flexed her hands as if considering banishing Emma away with magic so she could return to bed.

'The...This...' Emma couldn't say it. She merely gestured nervously to her stomach, which wasn't as flat as usual yet not enough for anyone to notice when Emma kept her red jacket zipped up.

'Oh.' Regina rolled her eyes. 'That. You woke me at this ungodly hour to ask me that?'

'I couldn't sleep.'

'So because the great saviour can't sleep, the rest of the town doesn't deserve to?' Regina stated bitterly. 'Go find Dr Whale - isn't that what he's useful for?'

'I don't trust him.'

'But you trust me?' Regina scoffed.

'No.' Emma frowned. 'But you're the only one who suspects anything.'

'I don't suspect; I know,' Regina dead-panned. 'Can I be left in peace now?'

'But how?' Emma insisted, raising her hand in case she had to catch the door – Regina looked ready to slam it in her face. 'I need to be sure.'

'I told you how.' Regina exhaled. 'Miss Swan, you already took my son from me and now you're taking my sleep? I don't know what I ever did to you, but I think you should leave.'

'I didn't take Henry,' Emma replied firmly. 'Look, all I'm asking is for some sort of proof. I can't take a test; everyone will know.'

Regina didn't bother asking why Emma needed it to be such a secret because she didn't care. She was bitter that Emma might provide Henry with a new family member, thus making him slip further away from her despite the ten years Regina spent raising him. And after what happened in Neverland, she seriously considered sending a burst of magic in Emma's direction for good measure. Except, Regina wouldn't do that to a pregnant woman.

Regina considered the situation as something she just had to deal with.

'If that's what it takes to remove you from my doorstep, fine,' Regina muttered, giving Emma a dirty look as she passed her in leaving the house. The blonde followed her to the place they both knew provided Regina with most of her magical needs – the crypt.

Regina took her time, thankful to have gotten dressed when she'd heard the annoying knocking on her door, and put together a somewhat simple potion with Emma standing nearby. Regina took momentary satisfaction in the saviour's discomfort to being surrounded by beating hearts and various dark magic equipment.

'Here.' Regina held out a small bottle of green substance. 'Add three drops of your blood. If it turns violet, it's a girl. If it turns white, it's a boy.'

'And if I'm not pregnant?' Emma warily accepting the bottle.

'It'll fizz, but not change colour.' Regina crossed her arms, waiting for Emma to hurry up so they could leave.

'I thought you can't tell gender so soon?' Emma stalled, aware that a woman had to be about several months along before gender can be determined – whereas she knew if she was pregnant she couldn't be more than a bit over one month.

'This is magic, not science.' Regina rolled her eyes. 'Can we get this over with?'

'Fine,' Emma grumbled, and looked around for something to prick her finger on.

Regina sighed and conjured a needle, which Emma wasn't keen on accepting. The whole situation felt wrong though Emma knew it was mostly her own nervousness and the fact she had resorted to asking Regina for help. Things had been better between them during and after working together in Neverland, but they'd been butting heads in the last few days. It reached the point where neither wanted to be near the other – much like how things were before the curse had been broken.

Emma stared at the bottle of green potion and exhaled. She flexed her muscles as if preparing for a fight, and winced at the sharp prick of the needle. Watching the droplet of red fall into the bottle, to be consumed by the green potion, felt incredibly slower than it was. Two more drops and Emma felt nauseous.

It wasn't the truth she was afraid of, not entirely, but rather the changes it could bring about.

Regina took the bottle back, with a complete lack of sympathy or anticipation, and gave the liquid a stir. Emma could only stare as the green hue changed to the palest white she'd ever seen.

'Congratulations,' Regina said dully, rolling her eyes to emphasis her lack of interest. 'It's a boy.'

The drive to New York was quiet once they left Maine. It wasn't the uncomfortable silence saved only by a good radio station, but the peaceful acceptance that nothing needed to be said. There was no rush; with nearly 400 miles to travel Henry and Emma made many stops along the way. It was an expected outcome to arrive in New York, nearly nine hours later, to see it lit with the night-life of the city.

They'd gone on a trip to Maine, after a fire broke out in their Boston apartment, and were moving to New York – this wasn't something they'd discussed, yet both Emma and Henry knew it. Even when the fire had destroyed most of the belongings they'd had, nothing was lost that they missed or couldn't replace. Neither put much thought or suspicion into how the most important things they owned, like Emma's baby blanket, had somehow survived the fire. They had memories of touring Maine, with Emma being on a job here and there, so they knew it hadn't been spur-of-the-moment to get in the yellow bug and drive off into the sunset the morning after they'd lost their Boston home.

Ignoring any fading confusions, Henry and Emma stepped out of the car and took a moment to appreciate the towering sight of the busy city, before finding a restaurant. They'd be living there for as long as possible, so while Henry put all his concentration on the menu, Emma perused a newspaper for apartments. She only put it down when their food arrived, deciding they'd be spending the next few nights in a hotel.

'Anything good?' Henry finally asked, looking up from his fries.

'Not really,' Emma said, moving her pasta around with her fork. She dropped the cutlery onto the impossibly white tablecloth and reached for the glass of wine.

One sip was all she could handle; Emma quickly put it back and pulled a face of utter disgust.

'That bad?' Henry hid a grin at her reaction.

'Awful.' She winced. 'How's the steak?'

'Really good.' Henry looked around the only semi-crowded room. Each customer was considerably better dressed than they were, but the food was so good Henry didn't care. 'We should come here at least once a week.'

Emma nudged her plate away. She looked to the third seat at their rounded table and wondered why she expected someone to occupy it. The dinner felt inconclusive – as if they were waiting for someone to join them though Emma knew it was only her and Henry.

It had always been just her and Henry.

The odd feeling remained even after they'd checked into a hotel room for the night.

Emma lay awake on her bed, staring up at the shadowed ceiling above, and wondered why she felt disorientated. Especially for someone who had grown up in the foster system, and therefore was used to moving from place to place with minimal belongings. They'd been in Maine for a long time, but it was a fun trip - nothing big happened, and no one's faces or names stood out. She'd even searched through what little things they had with them, to see if maybe they'd bought something and accidentally left it behind. Everything was accounted for, apart from a reason for her sense of unease.

Rolling onto her side, Emma tucked a hand under her pillow and sighed. Whatever it was, she was confident it would fade and be forgotten. Tomorrow, she'd look for a place to live and a school for Henry to attend. New York was going to be their home now, and Emma needed to focus on that. She had her son to look after. Every day, since choosing to keep him all those years ago, Emma reminded herself of the kind of life she wanted to give him. She would do everything to make sure her son continued to have a better childhood than she'd ever dreamed of.

Emma went to sleep thinking of days and years where it was just her and Henry. At 8:15 the next morning, she woke with a nauseated feeling that perhaps those days were over.

Their little family of two was quite possibly gaining another.

Henry knew his mother was very good at hiding when she was upset. She didn't want to worry him or appear less than the strong and capable woman she was. The shock of finding her sitting on the bathroom floor that morning made Henry realise just how much she protected him from any stress or fear she had.

He knew she always tried her best to raise him right and hiding her own upset was part of that, but he's almost a teenager now and not a little kid anymore. Henry didn't want his mum to hide when she was hurting – he could take it, and Henry wanted to help. Even so, it was quite a situation to be confronted with the sobs racking her form as she huddled on the shiny white floor of their hotel room.

'Mum?' Henry asked hesitantly, afraid of what could have happened to cause such an uncontrolled display of emotions from her.

She didn't get up to brush the tears away and assure him things will be fine. Emma merely tried to calm down enough to look at him clearly and speak without a stutter. By the time she could do that, Henry had sunk against the tiles beside her. His arm was around her shoulders in uncertain attempt to comfort her. It reminded Emma maybe she really was doing a good enough job as a mother.

'What's wrong?' Henry asked, trying to be calm.

He wanted to prove he was old enough for her to not hide her pain away, and that maybe he could help her feel better or find a solution. Most of all, Henry wished she wasn't hurting at all – he loved her too much and had no idea how to help.

'I'm pregnant,' Emma rushed to say while she still could. The sobs were expected to return, but instead she felt numb as if all the shock and emotions had reached a stalemate.

'W-what?' Henry's voice staggered as he stared at her. 'Are you sure? What...' He trailed off, taking a moment to digest the news.

'I'm sure.' Emma was furious at herself for somehow forgetting until that morning.

All she could remember was someone congratulating her on being pregnant and saying it was a boy. She assumed the words were spoken by a doctor, but either way everything else added up. Her memories were a little fuzzy as to how she knew, which is why Emma had crept out of the hotel room for no more than ten minutes to buy a pregnancy test across the street. It rested in the bathroom sink where she'd tossed it shortly after seeing the result, now completely convinced of the truth.

She was pregnant.

When she accepted it, Emma became aware of her surroundings. She observed the shining white appearance of the tiny bathroom and the fact her eleven-year-old son was sitting speechless on the cold tiles beside her. Emma was terrified and self-doubting but knew the bathroom floor was no place for the pending conversation.

Emma got up, accidentally knocking the green towels onto the floor without any interest of re-hanging them. She went to call room service to order breakfast, and paced in the main room until the food arrived. She mostly worried about Henry's continued silence, where he'd wandered to sit on the couch with his back to her. Setting their bacon and eggs on the small table, Emma sat down and waited for him to join her. It was a tense start, but Emma willed herself to be strong and outwardly calm for her son's sake.

She could continue her breakdown later in private.

Emma was momentarily glad Henry was old enough that she didn't have to explain where babies came from, until he reminded her that knowledge came with a whole new set of question she didn't want to answer.

'Who's the dad?' Henry watched her carefully, hardly showing any interest in his breakfast.

'I don't know,' Emma answered, looking away with shame.

'How can you not know? When did this happen?' Henry was confused, and Emma tried to hide how few answers she had to give him.

Emma looked at her son's inquiring brown eyes and decided on what to say. It was always hard to lie to Henry, but it was an especially difficult subject. She didn't want to disappoint or worry him, even when the truth was she didn't know how she got pregnant or by who.

'Mum.' Henry reached across the table, a rather easy action with how small it was, and placed his hand over hers. 'You can tell me the truth. I'm old enough – I can take it. Please, I just want you to be okay.'

Emma nodded, feeling dread and uncertainty. She wasn't sure he was indeed old enough, but her super power of being able to tell when she was being lied to had rubbed off on Henry in the most infuriating way. If she lied now to protect him, Emma knew Henry wouldn't be fooled. He would know, and that would be worse than any truth she could reveal. Not telling him would also give Emma an excuse to avoid facing it, and she'd vowed to stop running away the day she'd decided to keep Henry.

'It happened maybe three months ago,' Emma stated. She forced herself to eat – even if she felt every knot of anxiety in her stomach.

'When we were in Maine.' Henry frowned. 'But...Who? Was it while you were working?' He didn't like that idea. Most people she worked with weren't exactly parental material, but Henry couldn't think of any other time when he wasn't with her.

As shocking as the news was, it was even more confusing as to the circumstances and timing that brought about.

'Henry, I don't know,' Emma said. 'I just know I'm four months pregnant and it's a boy.'

'Wow!' He gasped, attention shifting entirely. 'It's a boy?' He leaned heavily back in his seat, as if being pushed by the weight of her words.

He was going to be a big brother!

Henry quickly looked at Emma's face, remembering how close they'd been to being separated when he was born. She'd told him the story years ago of how she'd almost given him up for adoption so he could have his best chance until she'd held him in her arms and changed her mind. Henry knew his mum worked hard to give him the best life she could and he loved her even more for it.

He worried adding a second child into the mix would revive the fears she'd had when he was born.

'Are we keeping him?'

Henry's nervously quiet question jerked Emma from her own thoughts. She stared at his wide, hopeful eyes and saw how afraid her son was of the answer. His use of "we" highlighted a significant difference between her two pregnancies – Emma wasn't completely alone this time. She didn't know who or where the father of her new baby was, but sitting across from her was a boy she'd done a pretty decent job of raising so far.

'Yes.' Emma swallowed, hating how final her word sounded. It felt like signing a contract she wouldn't be able to back out of, not once a grin spread over Henry's face at the verbal promise.

'Good.' Henry visibly relaxed.

He ate his breakfast in quiet for a while, until he shoved the plate away and met her gaze with such determination it startled her.

'Don't worry, Mum. You have me; I'm not anywhere, okay? Whatever happened, it doesn't matter,' Henry said. 'I don't need a dad, and neither does this baby. You're enough. We can handle this together like we do everything else - I know we can.'

It was in his smile that Emma found hope. Deciding to be a mother was the best choice Emma ever made, and it was enough to convince her to do it again.

Author's Notes: Feedback would be very appreciated and helpful!