A/N: sorry for the long ass wait. after i posted the last chapter, i ran into a loooonnnggg drought and i just couldn't write anything. but i finally finished chapter 5 last night, so i figured i'd post this today! this chapter isn't too long, but Emma finally meets her son! enjoy!

The voice startled Emma for a moment and she had to gather the strength to turn her head to find the person behind the voice. Her heart pounded against her ribs and she took a deep breath, turning her head to look at the voice's origin. And she gasped at the man who stood before her. Tears built behind her eyes as she took in the blue eyes and the wild black hair, as if he continuously ran his hand through his hair.

He was Killian's clone, save for his clean shaven face.

(Of course he was.)

"A-are you Dr. Emma Swan?" He asked, his voice shaking with nerves and his hands tight around the strap of his khaki messenger bag.

"You're Charlie," Emma spoke numbly as she stood from the bench. She couldn't believe this. She wanted to run from anything that reminded her of Killian and the choices she made back when she was young. And just in confronting one of those very choices, she was reminded of the way she shut Killian out of her life as soon as she found out about her pregnancy.

Charlie nodded and let out a soft chuckle and Emma's heart lurched because oh my god he was Killian. She clasped her hand over her mouth in shock because Emma never expected Charlie to be a carbon copy of the man she tried to forget from all those years ago. Charlie met her eyes and in just a moment, he dropped his bag by the legs of the bench and enveloped Emma in a tight hug. His face burrowed into Emma's neck as her nose pressed into his shoulder. The only refuge from Killian's memories was that Charlie smelled of paint, as if he had been spending too many hours in the design building.

Killian had smelled of the sea.

Emma's eyes slid shut as her arms tightened around Charlie as he began to shake with cries. Emma found that she did not care if Charlie's tears stained her jacket. She was just glad that she had chosen to stay to meet the child she had given up years ago. Because now that he was there, Emma did not want to let him go.

Even if he forced her to remember the man she almost loved.

They stood like that for a long while. It could have been seconds or minutes or possibly even hours, just simply holding each other and rocking with the silent music in their heads. Emma didn't know if people were glancing their way, but she found that she didn't care. She had her little boy back, the one she had wanted to keep so desperately but knew that she couldn't. She allowed her cheek to rest against Charlie's and she ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. The small motion reminded her of the summer days spent at Killian's side, running her hand through his too-long hair and wondering how he could handle the heat with his hair like that.

Charlie's fingers relaxed against Emma's back as he began to pull away. Emma allowed him to separate from her, ignoring the itch in her fingers to pull him back and to never let him go. He stood to his full height while keeping his eyes on the ground, wiping at his tear-soaked eyes. Emma ran her hand through the bangs that fell over his forehead and Charlie sniffled softly, his free hand gently holding onto Emma's forearm.

"Sorry," Charlie mumbled as he dropped his hand and lifted his head up to look at Emma. She was stunned yet again by just how much he looked like Killian.

"Don't apologize."

"I've just wanted to meet you for so long and now that it's happening-"

"You were overcome with emotion," Emma finished his sentence and Charlie nodded. "I understand. To be honest, I was afraid of meeting you. But now that you're here…" Emma trailed off and gripped Charlie's hands. "I don't want to let you go again."

Charlie nodded and removed his hands from Emma's, moving to sit at the bench at their side. Emma followed his movement and sat beside him, leaving enough space between the two of them to keep him comfortable. She clasped her hands over her lap and looked over at her oldest son, wondering how Killian was doing across the pond.

(She needed to tell him.)

Charlie leaned over his legs, propping his elbows on his knees as he looked out at the lawn in front of them. He was silent for a while, just staring at the people who mingled on the grass or walked past. Emma looked down at her hands, wondering what the hell they do next. Sure, they had made a bit of a scene during their hug. But now? What do they do?

"This is a little awkward," Charlie commented, laughing under his breath and Emma looked up to see him looking over at her. "Where do we begin?"

Emma laughed and replied honestly, "I was just thinking that very thing."

"How old are you?" Charlie asked. "I know it's bad form to ask someone how old they are, but my parents didn't tell me much about you."

Bad form.

Oh God, he was so much like Killian.

Emma swallowed back the knot in her throat as her hands tightened around each other. "I'm 36. I was eighteen when I gave birth to you."

"You were my age?"

Emma nodded and she could see that Charlie was having a hard time imagining having a child at his age. She wondered if this was when he would ask her about giving him up, about why he wasn't good enough for her to keep.

She would need a drink or five to get through that.

"Do I have any siblings?" Charlie asked and Emma could hear a hint of excitement in his voice.

Emma smiled and took a deep breath, relieved that they were going to avoid that topic of conversation for now. "You have a little brother."

Charlie smiled widely and said, "Really?"

Emma nodded. "His name is Henry and he's ten. He was actually very excited to hear that he had an older brother."

"What does he like to do?"

Emma shrugged. "Play video games. Read. Stay at his friend's house. Normal ten-year-old things."

"Wow," Charlie said simply, looking out at the lawn again. "I have a blood brother."

Emma wanted to tell him that Henry was only a half-brother. But she didn't want to risk bringing up the topic of Charlie's own father. Or even Henry's father. Neither were things she wanted to delve into at this moment, or ever. Besides, Emma didn't want to risk Charlie losing that smile that seemed to be tattooed on his face.

"Do you have siblings?" Emma asked Charlie, crossing her legs at the knees.

Charlie nodded as he looked back to Emma, relaxing back against the bench. "Yeah. Mom and Dad adopted Amanda when I was five. She's sixteen now. And then they had Shawn when I was ten, so he's eight now."

"Do you get along with them?"

Charlie shrugged and Emma laughed under her breath. "Sometimes, I guess. We don't fight, but me and Amanda argue sometimes."

"That'll get better. I fought with my sister until we went our separate ways at college," Emma replied, moving to shrug off her leather jacket to relieve herself from the heat. "We just needed time and space apart from each other."

"I have an aunt?"

Emma nodded. "Elsa and Anna. I was adopted into their family when I was twelve. Elsa lives here, in Boston, but Anna lives back with Ingrid, my adoptive mother and their aunt, in Maine."

"My parents live in Maine too," Charlie spoke, his eyes squinting against the brightness of the sun. "In this little town called Storybrooke."

Emma gasped and nearly clasped her hand over her mouth. Storybrooke. The Nolan's. Oh no. "You're from Storybrooke?"

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. "You know the town?"

Emma nodded and tried to ignore the rush of memories of the small coastal town. "Yeah. I spent my summers there. You know Any Given Sundae?"

Charlie smiled as he nodded. "Oh yeah. They have the greatest rocky road ice cream, but they're only open during the summer."

"That's my mother's ice cream shop," Emma announced and Charlie's mouth dropped.

"No way!"

Emma nodded with a smile. "Yes, it is! I worked there during the summers when we came in from Augusta. We stayed at the cottage on that cliff that overlooked the ocean. Ingrid has sold it since then, but that's where we lived during the summers."

"Holy shit," Charlie muttered as he ran his hand through his hair. "That's insane."

"Can I ask who your parents are?" Emma asked, even though she knew.

"Mary Margaret and David Nolan."

Emma gasped again and allowed herself to clasp her hand over her mouth. When Archie had told her that Charlie had been adopted by the Nolan's, she didn't make the connection in her mind. How many Nolan's possibly lived in Maine? But hearing it come from Charlie threw Emma for a loop.

She had been close to David and Mary Margaret during those summers, since they were on break from the University of Maine. And during the school year, they would send letters to each other and they both would come visit Emma, Elsa, and Anna in Augusta. They had been high school sweethearts and no part of Emma was surprised that they had ended up making it. They had both graduated from college the summer Killian had come to town and they had moved back to town to care for David's ailing mother.

They must know Charlie was Emma's son.

They must know that Killian was his father.

"You know them?" Charlie asked quietly.

"I do," Emma replied just as quietly. "I had no idea they had adopted you. I didn't go back to Storybrooke after the summer before my senior year of high school."

"So you had no idea what happened to me?"

Emma gulped back the knot in her throat. "I didn't."

"So you gave me up without a backward glance?" Charlie asked and she could hear the hurt in his voice.

"Charlie, it wasn't easy for me to do it-"

"But you did and you didn't care? You didn't want to know that I was okay?" Charlie continued, his anger coming through. "You just gave me up and continued on with your life like I never existed?"

Emma wanted to correct him, but she knew he was right. She had thrown herself into exercise to lose the weight she had gained from the pregnancy. She wanted to forget that she had been pregnant and that she had given him up. She wanted to forget that summer and the way those blue eyes spoke to her soul. She had tried her hardest to forget the son she gave up and the almost love she lost.

"This was a mistake," Charlie spoke, grabbing his bag from the ground and wrenching it onto his shoulder. He stood quickly from the bench and before Emma could say anything, he was gone.

And Emma was just left with her thoughts as she sat alone on the park bench, being left behind by the son she had left behind all those years ago.

Needless to say, Emma needed a large drink after the meeting as she headed over to Elsa's apartment. She trusted Henry to be left alone at their place, with Buttercup as his company and his dinner warming up in the oven. He was quite resourceful for a ten-year-old, and right now Emma was glad. She needed time to vent to her sister because the meeting did not go well and Emma just had no fucking idea about what to do next.

She didn't want to lose Charlie again.

But if Charlie never wanted to see her again (and she would not blame him, after those details came to surface), Emma would have to respect his wishes.

Which she wasn't entirely sure she would be able to do.

So as she marched up to Elsa's apartment, with her red leather jacket on and her bag high on her shoulder and her boots clacking loudly against the tile of the building's hallway, Emma thought about what the fucking fuck she was going to do.

Emma didn't bother knocking on Elsa's door when she reached it. Emma just walked in, knowing that Elsa was home according to the text that told her that ten minutes previously. And when Emma arrived at the end of the entry hallway, she found Elsa sitting on her luxurious leather couch, with her knees crossed and her psychiatrist stare painted on her face. While staring at her sister, Emma grabbed the bottle of red wine from its place on her island and popped the cork off the already opened bottle, chugging three long pulls straight from the bottle.

"Interesting," Elsa stated from her place on the couch, her chin resting on her fingertips. "I take it that the meeting didn't go well?"

"Wonder what gave you that impression."

Elsa drew her eyebrows together and pursed her lips as her hand dropped from her chin. "Don't give me attitude. God knows I've already dealt with enough of that today."

Emma let out an unladylike burp as she gripped the bottle and walked over to the loveseat sitting beside Elsa's couch. "Sorry, but it was a doozy."

"What happened?"

"Firstly, am I being charged hourly for this or is this pro bono?"

"Emma-"

"Oh fine," Emma grunted as she placed the bottle on the wooden coffee table and wrenched off her boots. "It started off actually kinda well."

"Go on."

Emma sighed, hating it when Elsa turned all psychologist on her. "I almost ended up taking off because I could barely handle the nerves, but I heard someone call to me and I just knew it was him. I looked at him and...Elsa…" Emma trailed off because her heart simply ached too badly to recall that he looked just as Killian did eighteen years ago and how hurt he was by her admissions.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me everything immediately-"

"Just eventually-"

"What happened next?" Elsa asked as she ignored Emma's interruption.

"We hugged, actually," Emma replied and Elsa nodded, as if she wasn't entirely surprised by the admission. "He cried. I nearly cried. Then we sat down and talked for a bit. I told him about Henry and you and Anna. He told me about his siblings and-" Emma paused to take a long chug from the bottle of wine, allowing the alcohol to slip down her throat and dull her senses. "He told me he lived in Storybrooke."

Elsa's eyes widened in shock. "For real?"

Emma chuckled because it was those moments when Elsa's psychologist exterior dropped and revealed who she truly was that were Emma's favorites. "Yep. Told him about Any Given Sundae and the cottage." Emma sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Then I had to ask who his parents were."

"Who were they?"

"Mary Margaret and David."

"No way," Elsa spoke as she slid to the edge of the couch. "What did you say?"

"Well he could see by my reaction that I knew them, and that's when shit went down hill," Emma replied, placing the wine bottle back onto the coffee table. "He realized that I obviously didn't know what happened to him after I gave him up and that I must've continued on like he never even existed."

"Oof," Elsa breathed out. "That is a doozy."

"And I couldn't argue with him because he was right, Elsa," Emma replied, looking over at her sister. "You remember how I exercised day and night after he was born so I could forget it ever happened. And how I went off to college with my body looking like it did before I was even pregnant and I was just so happy to put it all behind me. I've spent the past eighteen years trying to forget that I ever had him, and it's all come back to bite me in the ass."

Elsa remained silent for a while as Emma turned to drink more wine from the bottle. She felt the alcohol beginning to dull her senses, which was exactly what she needed. She didn't know if Charlie would ever want to see her again, and she just needed to dull the pain that she felt because she knew there was a high chance that he never would want to see her again.

"You're not saying anything," Emma pointed out after five minutes of silence. "No 'he was wrong,' or 'everything will be okay?'"

Elsa sighed as she crossed her legs at the knees. "Emma, I can't lie to you. He has a right to be angry and I can't tell you that everything will be okay because there's a chance that it won't be."

Emma nodded as she looked back at the now half-empty bottle of wine in her hand and Elsa continued. "I was there with you through all of that. I saw you hardly eat anything after you gave birth because you were so focused on forgetting that any of this happened and losing all of your baby weight. But I also remember you wanting to keep him so badly, but knowing that you couldn't because you couldn't do that to Ingrid or to him. Or even to yourself, even though you wouldn't admit that. I remember hearing you cry every night for two months because you wanted your son so badly, but you didn't have him."

"Well, he doesn't know that-"

"But you know that. You know that you didn't forget about him. You worried about him day and night, wondering if you made the right decision or if he was tossed into the system like you were," Elsa replied, her hands holding Emma's forearm. "If he doesn't want to see you again, then you can't do anything about it. It sucks, but that's how it is. But if he chooses to come back, then you need to let him know how glad you are to have him in your life again and how you always wanted to know what happened to him."

Emma took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over. "Elsa, I don't know if I can handle seeing him again, let alone on a daily basis."

Elsa's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Emma looked over at her sister and confessed, "He just-he looks so much like Killian, Elsa."

"Oh Emma," Elsa spoke softly and her hands tightened around Emma's forearm.

"And I can't even look at him without thinking about Killian. He's a carbon copy of Killian, down to running his hands through that black mess of hair he has and the blue eyes. The only difference is that Charlie's clean-shaven, but that's so easily changed, and I can't look at him without remembering what I did to Killian and how awful of a person I am-"

"You can't let that stop you," Elsa replied. "If you let him in and suddenly he grows out his stubble and looks like Killian, you can't suddenly break things off. Because he looked for you and he wants you in his life and if you push him away because of something like that, he will never come back to you. And you will kill yourself for doing that to him."

"He's gonna want to know about his father-"

"And you'll deal with that when it comes to it," Elsa stressed firmly. "You'll have to. He deserves to know."

Emma took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. "What if he's angry with me?"

"Then you'll have to deal with that too. With both of them. Because they both deserve to be angry, Emma. I know you meant well, but their emotions are valid."

Emma nodded because she knew her sister was right. Charlie deserved to be angry with her. Killian deserved to angry with her. But they both deserved to know about the other. Emma promised herself that even if Charlie chose not to contact her again, she would tell Killian.

He deserved that much.