"Well she can't have just bloody disappeared! She has to be somewhere!" The resounding thump of Killian's fist against the counter made several people in the room startle. It had officially been eight hours since Killian had dropped Henry off at his group home and come home to find himself in an empty apartment and, in all honesty, he was an absolute mess. A flood of panic had taken root deep in his heart and left not much room for things like logic and reason.

"Killian, you need to stay calm. Emma is… well at the very least she's street smart. She would never put herself in danger. She knows how to handle herself." David stepped forward as he spoke, his eyes betraying his true feelings in contradiction to his words. He was worried, too. And that scared Killian even more.

"I am calm. I haven't razed the entire sodding city, now have I?" he spat venomously. He was trying not to take it out on his friend, but everyone who wasn't actively bringing him closer to Emma was just collateral damage at this point. David raised his hands in exasperation and turned around, heading back to the kitchen with a harsh sigh.

"Mate, court begins in an hour. We had better get going. I wanted to talk with Bob about what happened with Emma before the judge gets in," Robin said gently and Killian's expression turned incredulous.

"No, forget court, mate," he replied as if Robin had just suggested he cut off his own hand. "Look, Emma is out there somewhere. She left her bloody phone, her wallet, everything. No one has seen or heard from her. She's not at any of her usual haunts. I don't even know where to go from here. She's alone and scared, and the baby…" He choked on the words. "I don't even know if they're safe…" he whispered past the lump in his throat. Mary Margaret acted on instinct, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. One of his arms came up automatically to clutch her, using her as a physical anchor in the sea of emotion he was currently adrift in.

"Okay, okay." She rubbed soothing circles into the material of his shirt, looking back to Robin over his shoulder. "Let's make a plan here." She pulled back from Killian's hold to look him in the eye. "David, Merida and I are here, and Will is on his way. Regina will even be here a little later. That's plenty of people for a search party." A noise of objection came from David but was quickly stifled by a withering glare from Mary Margaret. Killian looked between the two quizzically for half a second but then shook himself back into listening mode.

"Now," Mary Margaret continued, "when Emma gets back, she will need to have someone in her corner for this trial, and it would help if that person was you." Killian opened his mouth to argue and Mary Margaret held up a no-nonsense hand to stop him. "Emma needs you in that courtroom, Killian. She needs you to get her justice."

"It's just a pretrial conference," he mumbled and Mary Margaret huffed at him, frustrated at his stubbornness.

"Killian Jones, you listen to me, and you listen good. Even if you believe that Emma would put herself in danger, you know better than anyone else that she would never, never, do anything to hurt that baby. You were there the first time. You know she wouldn't. Right now, Emma needs someone to be at the trial who can speak for her and relay information back to her accurately. She needs somebody that would do the things she would do," she insisted and Killian shook her off completely.

"Well then she should bloody well be there herself then, shouldn't she? Instead of running off, pregnant, mind you, to God fucking knows where and scaring me half to goddamn death! How could she be so… so fucking selfish?" Tears freely flowed down his face and he hiccupped back a sob. He surveyed the room following his outburst and met several pairs of widened eyes, wishing immediately that he could stuff those last few words back in his mouth.

"Alright, Killian." Merida stepped closer to Killian and he took a step back. Merida put her hands up in surrender. "I know you're upset right now, we all know, and you have every right to be. Emma is obviously very afraid herself or she wouldn't have run as she did, aye? But Mary Margaret is right, you do need to be the one at this pretrial court date… thingy. Get all the information first hand. Make things easier on Emma and you down the line." Killian breathed out sharply through his nose and Merida grasped his chin, turning his gaze resolutely to her own. She was finally getting through to him. "We will find her. She will be okay. Now, go. Get ready. Court's in forty-five minutes."

"Aye," he whispered, a defeated quality to his voice that made him want to scowl at himself. He turned away and went to go get dressed, or at least that was his intention.

Instead, he found himself sitting on the bed in the room (their bed in their room, his mind helpfully supplied), his head supported in his hands because the weight of it wouldn't support itself. It was almost as if he was physically weighed down with emotion.

"Dammit, Swan." He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, suppressing the tears that lingered there. Their friends were right. It did need to be him in that courtroom. If nothing else, it would allow him time to compose himself to be of any sort of use to Emma.

It was hard not to be angry with her. Well, maybe angry wasn't the right term, per se. Hurt. It was hard not to be hurt by her actions. They were supposed to be a team, and he thought they made a pretty damn good one. He knew she would be scared as soon as Henry's identity came to light. He knew she would try to pull away. He just didn't expect her to run out on him like this. They were supposed to lean on one another and this… this felt like she still didn't trust him. After everything.

He got up with one last scrub of both palms over his face and made his way to the closet to retrieve a court appropriate suit, but paused when he heard muffled voices coming from the hallway. Immediately perking up, hopeful for news about Emma, he opened the door and peeked out into the hallway. Mary Margaret and David stood in conversation at the end of the hallway near the guest room. Mary Margaret's arms were crossed over her chest and David's hand rested soothingly against her arm as their words filtered down the hall.

"I just don't want you to overtax yourself," David said, his voice soft and reasonable. Overtax herself? Killian thought to himself. Was she sick?

"I told you already, I'm fine, David. I feel great today, not even really tired." Mary Margaret fixed her husband with one of her patented teacher gazes, no doubt perfected by shaping the minds of ten year olds for the last five years. But Killian became more concerned at her reply.

"I just worry about you two," David replied softly, moving his hand down to cover Mary Margaret's lower stomach and realization swept over Killian at the action. Holy shit. They're pregnant. And obviously not ready to tell anyone.

David leaned in to place a kiss on his wife's lips and Killian panicked, the thought suddenly occurring to him that he was intruding on a very private moment. He meant to close the door quietly, but in his addled state, he fumbled for the doorknob and made much more noise than anticipated, judging by the surprised faces that turned towards him. He was sure the wince he felt was visible and his hand came up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. David's eyes were the first to morph from shock to concern as his wife stood with her mouth dropped slightly.

"Uh, hey there, Killian." David cleared his throat. "You, uh, been there long?" He swiped his hand out in front of him, gesturing to the place Killian stood. This was entirely too awkward. Killian made a face trying to underplay the statement and shook his head.

"No, don't worry about it. I didn't hear anything you didn't want me to," he placated. "Best get ready." He pointed behind him into the bedroom and shut the door swiftly, suddenly thankful for the escape of the courtroom that awaited him. He changed into his suit in record time, still finishing tying his tie when he emerged from the bedroom. Once his eyes landed on Robin, he practically dragged him out the door, all the while David's laser focus tracking his every move suspiciously.

The drive to the courthouse was quiet. Robin kept glancing sidelong at Killian, waiting for some sort of reaction. Killian, in all honesty, had been stunned into shock at all of the overwhelming information swirling through his brain. It had honestly never happened to him for this length of time before. Wherever his thoughts strayed, be it to the destination of their journey, or the Nolans' impending parenthood, he found his mind settling back on Emma. He just needed to know she was safe. They could figure the rest of it out later. She and their child were priority number one.

Robin parked the car in the lawyer's section of the courthouse parking lot, blatantly and flagrantly with a sly half smile to Killian. Killian returned the smirk half-heartedly, knowing that it was against the rules to park in those spots while not on the clock, but needing a little mischief to lighten the mood. Plus, it got them into the courthouse a whole ten minutes quicker than trekking across the entire parking lot. Abuse of power seemed to have its perks because their city ID cards also broke them to a quicker security line, getting them into the actual courtroom all the faster. Immediately, Robin broke away from Killian to go speak with his friend Bob with the DA's office about what to expect.

Killian looked around the familiar room. He had been in this very courtroom countless times before, but the space felt different. There was a different vibe to the situation being on the other side of the partition. The emotionally charged aura he bore seemed to darken in the room, his skin feeling like it was crawling with anticipation. He almost physically jumped when the door to the courtroom banged open loudly and two men entered the room. One was a defense lawyer he had worked with in the past on some cases, Martin Jenkins, if he recalled. The other was him. The pompous, arrogant fuck who strutted into the courtroom like a peacock in an Armani suit, no signs of physical injury (or common decency, for that matter) to be seen, a smug smile plastered to his face and a cellphone pressed against his ear. He could hear Martin begging his client to get off the phone before the judge arrived, trying to explain to him what he might expect, but Randall Williams seemed very unconcerned to the point of annoyance with the shorter man.

"Marty, piss off, this is an important call. I'll get off when the judge comes in. Besides," Williams steps closer to the lawyer and Killian strains to hear him as he lowers his voice and presses his cellphone to his shoulder to prevent the microphone from picking up anything unsavory. "I pay you a fuck ton of money to make sure this disappears. That's your job, not mine. I have a conference call at three so go do whatever it is that I pay you for and leave me to my work, got it?" he snapped and turned back to his phone call exuberantly as Martin Jenkins left with his instructions.

"Mate, if you're trying to snap the bench in half, I think you're well on your way." Robin's voice cut through the fog of rage Killian felt himself trapped motionless in. The wood beneath his palms creaked as he let go, not realizing how tight he had been gripping the bench he sat on. Robin looked at him in concern.

"What did Bob say?" Killian gritted out. Robin blew out a sigh.

"I'll be honest, Killian, you're not going to like it," he said gently. "The defense is trying to plead him down to probation only. No jail time."

"ON WHAT-" Killian's outraged shout was quickly shushed by Robin, several heads including his turning in their direction, and he pulled him more towards the back of the room. "On what bloody fucking grounds?"

"Bob isn't sure. They're claiming evidence tampering." Robin said, his voice dropping even lower. Killian scoffed and gave Robin an incredulous glare, running a hand through his locks and tugging slightly. Robin held up a calming hand. "I know, I know."

"Do you, Robin? I mean if this man walks the streets, I…" he trailed off. He couldn't think about his impulsive anger, lest he find himself acting on it.

"I get it. I do, Killian. Lucky for us, Judge French is a friend. There is no way he's going to accept this without solid proof this so-called tampering has occurred," Robin replied and Killian rubbed the back of his neck.

"Aye, Moe is a good judge. Best of a bad situation, I suppose," he agreed.

"All rise!" Killian and Robin turned at the sound of the bailiff's voice and made their way back to the front as the judge entered the room from his chambers behind his bench. "The Honorable Judge Maurice French presiding."

"You may be seated," Judge French replied and settled his large frame into his chair with a sigh. "We'll call the case now, People versus Randall Williams, case number CS126772. Counselors, are we ready to proceed?"

"Yes, Your Honor." Bob stepped up to the podium. "We presented you with the plea agreement options last week. The defense has rejected all suggestions and prosecution is prepared to head to trial."

"Yes, I received them and approved them, Mr. Marias." The portly judge shuffled through the papers in front of him, donning a pair of reading glasses to better see them. "I recall defense has rejected the plea agreements due to a claim of evidence tampering." He looked over the top of the lenses at Martin Jenkins. "Grounds?" he asked as if the claim personally offended him and Killian felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Ah, yes sir." Martin shuffled through the mess of papers on his table and walked up to the podium as Bob stepped back. "We believe that the arresting officer had a previous relationship with the victim of the accident and tampered with the evidence. We request a stay of trial until the evidence can be examined by Internal Affairs."

Killian's jaw dropped and he scrambled for the copy of the case file in Robin's hands. Robin read along with him until their eyes alighted on the name of the arresting officer. Graham Humbert.

"What the fuck?" Killian hissed. "I've known Emma for years and I've never heard of this Graham bloke."

"Ah, I've run in to him once or twice at his precinct. Never mentioned Emma, though," Robin whispered back. "He's a good officer. Used to be the sheriff in a little town up in Maine. Stoneybrooke, Starbrooke, something like that."

"Storybrooke," Killian murmured.

"That's it, you know it?" Robin met Killian's gaze.

"Aye. That's where Emma lived as a teenager with her foster mother, Ingrid, until she died right before Emma's eighteenth birthday." Killian thumbed through the file.

"Well, that would explain why you didn't know him." Robin looked back up.

"These are serious accusations, Mr. Jenkins. I trust you have evidence to support?" The judge looked over at the podium sternly and Killian could almost hear the nervous swallow from the lawyer.

"This is information that has just come to light, but from a very reliable source. The information has been passed along to Internal Affairs but they have yet to conduct their investigation," Martin replied and Judge French sighed heavily.

"Well, until Internal Affairs can conduct a proper investigation into these claims, I have no choice but to grant a continuance on this case. Reset for conference on the twenty-seventh of August at 8:00 a.m. Court is adjourned." Judge French banged his gavel with a little more force than was strictly necessary, then stood and made his exit.

Killian and Robin stood immediately after he left and made to leave themselves, only to be cut off in the aisle by Martin Jenkins and his client. Williams smirked as he walked by and it was all Killian could do not to punch the smug bastard in his jaw. Robin must have sensed Killian's anger and put a hand on his shoulder to center him. Killian ground his teeth audibly as he watched the two leave the room.

"You alright?" Robin put his arm down and stepped forward in front of Killian.

"Get me home. I have to find Emma." Killian brushed past his friend and walked decisively to the parking lot.

The ride back to Killian and Emma's apartment was spent in silence, even heavier than the quiet on the ride to the courthouse. Robin had tried to turn on the radio for Killian just to shut it off immediately. He flipped through the files in silence, reading and rereading everything with Graham Humbert's name on it. A copy of his statement was in there, as well as all the other information and reports that Humbert had filed. Nothing seemed out of order. Williams was found at the scene, bloody nose and facial contusion from the airbag his only injuries. His blood alcohol level was four times the legal limit for driving when taken at the scene. No further sobriety tests were administered. Then there was information about Emma. A catalog of her injuries, pictures of both vehicles, but there was no mention of a personal relationship with her mentioned. Killian snapped the file shut as they pulled up and headed towards the elevator.

"Wait up!"

Killian and Robin both turned at the sound of Will's voice and saw him jogging up to them.

"Will? What the bloody hell took you so long?" Robin asked as the three of them got in the elevator and Killian pushed the button for his floor. Will shrugged.

"Ah, had some things to sort out first. Ashley and I are no longer the hot ticket item, or whatever the kids are calling it these days." Will chuckled.

"What happened?" Killian asked.

"Oh, so he does speak," Robin chided with a raised eyebrow and Killian glowered at him. "But yes, Will, what happened?"

Will shrugged. "She was right steamin' mad that I was coming here to help out with Emma. Said you had enough friends to help. Said it was me arsehole friends or her. So, me arsehole friends it is." He patted each of them on the shoulder firmly and grinned.

"I'm sorry, mate," Killian offered. Will gave him a pointed look in response.

"Nah, you ain't, mate. And that's okay. I'm not either." He smiled warmly and Killian nodded.

"Why did you let it carry on for so long then?" Robin asked.

"The sex was fan-fucking-tastic," he replied easily and all three men chuckled. The doors to the elevator opened and waiting for them was a very frantic, but also surprised looking David, Mary Margaret, and Merida.

"What's the matter with you two, don't you answer your phones?" David shouted at them and Killian looked confused.

"We had them turned off for court, must have forgotten to turn them back on," Robin supplied. "What's going on?"

"It's Emma. She's in the hospital. We gotta go." David herded the group back into the elevator as Killian's heart shattered into a million pieces.

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It was unusually cool for the end of June. At least that's what Emma thought as she pulled her old red leather jacket tightly around her. She couldn't close it, not with a seventh month baby bump in the way, but it did provide an extra layer of warmth on the unseasonable night. The springs of the seat creaked and groaned underneath her as she changed her position for the thirtieth time, but she felt at peace in the first thing that was ever hers. The canary yellow bug was nearly unrecognizable, the driver's side smashed in and both doors removed. The interior was still mostly intact. At least the backseat and the passenger side was. The driver's seat had been removed already. It was only a matter of time before the rest of the car was broken down for parts or scrap and she would have to say goodbye forever. Most people would have already, but for a long time, this car was Emma's version of home. It was hard to say goodbye to something like that when home was not something Emma had for most of her life. So, here it sat in a storage unit. Mangled and broken. Irreparably damaged. Emma felt a kinship with the pile of bolts in that moment. She, too, was damaged. Maybe beyond repair. And her damage had only wrought more damage. Killian was now stuck with the girl he knocked up, her first kid ended up in a damn group home, and she was certain she would screw up this kid, too. Hell, her bad luck had already tried to put a stop to it already, proof in the very place she sat.

But she was trying, dammit. Trying to be better. Trying to be something more. Trying to be not so broken. She loved Killian. He deserved better, but no one would ever love him like Emma Swan loved him, that much she knew. And from the second she met Henry at her doorstep, she had felt an unreal connection to him. A surge of maternal instinct and, dare she say it, love for the child as well. Which was strange to say about somebody you hardly knew. But it was true. And she loved Charlotte. The little girl floating blissfully unaware to the drama in the outside world, safely tucked in her own little bubble.

She hadn't meant to run. But it was what she did best. Emma had acted on baser emotions and flight won out over fight in that moment. She wasn't running forever. She just needed time to clear her head, to think about everything that had been laid at her feet. Her phone was left at home, and she didn't leave a note, so she was sure that Killian had called in the cavalry by now. As long as she got back before 24 hours went by, they couldn't file a missing person's report. She just might not be ready to go back until the 23-hour mark. Guilt swept over her at this thought. She just needed to stop being a baby and tackle this thing head on. Killian loved her. He would (probably) understand. Henry (probably) didn't know what was going on. Everyone else would (probably) forgive her. Emma let the thoughts roil around in her head as some sort of pep talk, unable to help the little seeds of doubt that kept planting themselves in her thoughts alongside the positives. She knew she was being dramatic. How hard was it just to go home?

Emma resolved that that was exactly what she was going to do. So she hoisted herself out of the backseat and through the missing door on the passenger side of the car, the same route she got in, and made sure everything was the way she found it. She patted her pocket and heard the telltale jingle of her keys and she was ready. Ready to face the music, ready to go home, ready to sort out her life. She bent down to roll up the corrugated door that covered her storage unit and because she had decided that her own insecurities and bad luck weren't going to get in her way anymore, life decided to throw her a curveball as it always did.

Pain shot through Emma's abdomen as she tried to pull up the door and she let it go to grip the sides of her belly. The door crashed back shut. Emma grit her teeth through the pain squeezing at the sides of her stomach and Charlotte seemed especially perturbed as she kicked the space below Emma's ribs. Bracing herself better, she waited for the pain to subside and gave the door another shot. This time it rolled open with ease. No pain. She rolled the door back down, locking it quickly and headed towards the front to go back to the front office. Maybe somebody would let her use the phone so she could call a cab instead of having to ride the bus. As she stepped into the office and made her way to the very bored looking twenty something at the desk, she felt the pain again. Like a really strong cramp in the sides of her belly. She grabbed the closest chair to her to brace herself and breathed through the pain. The uninterested secretary looked up and suddenly found interest in the scene before her.

"Uh, hey, lady, are you okay?" she asked, coming around the counter. Emma shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut tight.

"No, call 911. I think I'm in labor."