This is just a oneshot. Waiting sucks and I was bored. OUAT is back this Sunday!

It's been a bitch of a car ride. Eight hours in a Bug with an eleven year old and a three hundred year old man is not how Emma pictured spending her free time upon returning from the Enchanted Forest. She's hungry, she's crabby and she really has to pee. Although, she's not too thrilled with having been dragged on this little outing, she's even less thrilled that her con artist of a son managed to weasel his way into her backseat and scare the living daylights out of both she and Gold somewhere near the state line of Maine.

She wants to be angry with Henry. She knows that she should be…but she can't bring herself to really find the strength, because she is so flattered that he wants to spend more time with her, that she lets him off with a warning…after he's called her parents and Regina. It takes about ten minutes on the phone with Regina to assure her that she is not taking off with the kid. To be fair, at least it seems like the former Queen is trying, though Emma still isn't ready to call her a 'bestie'. At least they're not flinging insults and magic at each other every five seconds any more.

Now that Emma's discovered she's got some magic of her own, she's been learning to use it…though it's still raw and sporadic, but it's a start. And it's humbled Regina a little, because even though she is still more experienced than Emma with magic, Emma is more powerful. And that scares the so-called Evil Queen. Which is why she is so understanding that Henry is taking a little road trip with his birth mother.

Gold, for his part, has been silent, other than small talk and some polite conversation with Henry. Emma is surprised by his obvious soft spot for the kid. He doesn't seem cold or calculating like he does with everyone else. When he answers questions for Henry, he speaks patiently and seems genuine. It's a far cry from the shady, twisting words that he pulls with everyone else in Storybrooke. She suspects it's because Henry reminds him of his son.

The target himself. Baelfire.

She has no idea what they're getting themselves into here…and honestly, she's not really sure the guy is living. Or, if he is, how old he is and what he looks like. Gold insists that he's alive for reasons he won't give up, but he's put a tracking spell on the dingy old cloak they got from Hook's little crony, Smee. If anyone had told Emma two years ago that she would be making deals with Captain Hook and Rumpelstiltskin, she would have punched them in the face. Or laughed at them. She's not sure which.

After they check into their hotel and Emma relieves her bladder, they take a cab to Soho. Gold says he's sure that's where "Bae" is. She's still skeptical, but the faster they find the kid, the sooner she can get home to Mary and David. Henry is quieter than usual, reading his book intently, trying to find clues to what happened to Baelfire, even though he really sees nothing of use. Emma is staring out the window at the dreary sleet falling, thinking about how she'd like nothing more than a hot shower, some Irish coffee and a good night's sleep. A gasp makes her jump.

"Stop the car!" Gold cries, making the driver slam on the brakes, barely screeching to a stop as they slide on the icy street.

"Jesus, Buddy!" The man exclaims, glaring back at the three passengers. "That's fifteen thirty-five."

"Here," Emma says apologetically, thrusting a twenty into his palm, "Keep it." The trio files out of the car and stares up at the apartment building, a slightly weathered twenties style complex. A wrought iron fire escape zigzags over the front of the building, slightly marring the once beautiful molding with its modern, ugly presence. The three stare up at the building, each undoubtedly wondering if their target is waiting within, unknowing. Emma starts for the buzzer, when she hears Henry cry out.

"Look!"

Glancing upward, she sees the hooded figure, obviously a fully grown man, leaping over fire escapes, bounding with the ease of a practiced fugitive as he flees.

"Oh, hell no," She mutters, starting toward him, "Stay with Gold!" She calls over her shoulder to Henry, who is watching, mesmerized as the stranger leaps from the second story to the ground without a stumble. Emma is fast, having chased down any number of targets in her days as a bounty hunter…sometimes in heels. The man, however, is faster, more agile. The way he moves in front of her gives her the oddest sense of Déjà vu, but she ignores it as she pursues him, leaping over a parking block and nearly knocking over a hot dog vendor. She calls out a halfhearted 'Sorry', but continues forward, watching her victim glance over his shoulder and take an abrupt turn down an alley. She slips a little as she rounds the corner, finding a patch of ice and stumbling roughly against the wall as the man swiftly begins the climb the rusty fence at the end of the alley.

"Stop!" She cries, out of breath, trying to think fast despite the lack of oxygen to her brain, "I have a gun!"

He pauses, albeit briefly, but just long enough for Emma to move in for the kill and tackle him to the ground. He's bigger than she thought he'd be, but she has the advantage of taking him by surprise, twisting him around and pinning his arms to the ground with her knees, putting her weight on his chest as she pulls his hood back, revealing an unruly mop of curly dark hair. They stare at each other for a moment, locking eyes, before both sets of pupils dilate and each recoils in the shock of recognition. Emma tumbles off of him, reeling backward into the brick wall of the building.

"No…" She chokes, shaking her head and willing him to disappear. Something must be wrong. Gold must be playing some sick, cruel joke on her.

"Emma?" He's on his feet now, moving toward her with a pale, confused expression on his handsome face. Her hands move to cover her face as she refuses to look, to believe.

"It's not real…it's just a nightmare…" She chants to herself, squeezing her eyes closed against the burn of tears she's never allowed herself to cry.

"Emma," His hands gently guide her arms down, bringing her hands off her face, but she keeps her eyes closed, not wanting to see his face. "Open your eyes, Baby. Please, look at me," he pleads. That's when she gets mad and turns eleven years of fury on him.

"You have a lot of nerve, you son of a bitch," She hisses at him, pushing his chest and backing him against the other side of the alley. His dark eyes widen in surprise, obviously knowing what's coming. "You left me to take the fall for your stupid mistake!" She shrieks at him, hitting him with every syllable. "Were you planning it the whole time?" She asks, "Was anything you said to me true?"

"Let me explain—"

"Explain what? That you're a bastard? That you're a coward?" She fires, backing away from him in disgust. "Neal, I spent eleven months in jail. Thanks for the car, by the way," Emma adds acidly, "It really softened the blow." His eyes widen.

"I am not a coward," He says in a low, dark voice, "You have no idea."

"No, Neal, you have no idea," She growls, "You don't even know the worst of it."

"What do you mean?" His voice is softer now, stricken, "Emma, what's the worst of it?"

"Emma?!" She turns to see the small silhouette at the end of the alley, cursing his timing.

"It's okay, Henry," She calls, silently grateful that he didn't call her 'Mom', as he tends to do lately. She doesn't want Neal to figure it out. And then there's the realization that Neal Cassidy is Gold's son, which only makes her feel more nauseated. She feels like she's had no control over anything in her life, including the only person she ever loved.

"So, you're…Gold's son?" She finally manages to ask, gesturing toward the end of the alley, though Gold still hasn't made his way over. Neal's eyebrows furrow in bemusement.

"Who is Gold?"

"Rumpelstiltskin," Henry inserts for her, moving to her side and looking up at the man. Emma freezes, hoping neither is observant enough to sense their relationship to the other. The way the color leaves Neal's face confirms this assumption, however, and all worry is forgotten when Gold finally appears in the alley, breathless and more than a little terrified. If Emma wasn't so angry and confused and completely devastated, she might have found it amusing.

Taking her by surprise, Neal turns suddenly, looking at the fence as if he's going to leap over it and continue to flee as before. His inner conflict is outwardly visible as his shoulders hunch and his fingers twitch. She remembers from their time together that he's always been worried someone is after him. Always looking over his shoulder. Tormented by nightmares. Too many nights he'd shot up in bed, sweating and panting and she'd had to soothe him back to sleep, whispering soft words of comfort in his ears. It makes her chest ache as she strives to suppress that memory and the overwhelming feeling that comes with it.

"Bae," Gold's hushed voice comes, breaking the held silence. Henry moves to her side, taking her hand. She's come to realize he clings to her when he's scared or nervous. She's not complaining, squeezing his hand and putting her arm around him. Maybe if she's lucky, she can usher him out of this godforsaken alley and away from this discomfort. And still…there's a part of her that wishes she could tell Henry that the father he so yearns for is standing before him rather than the idiotic fable that he's a dead firefighter.

"Don't," Neal says, still facing away, though he's slumped in defeat. He's not going to run. Emma's not sure whether it's because of her or Gold, but she supposes it doesn't matter. "Please."

"Is it truly you?" Gold asks, not moving toward him. He stays rooted in the spot he stopped; giving nothing away, save for a slight tremor in his hand as he grips the cloak. Neal turns slowly, dark eyes blazing as he stares across the alley at his long lost parent. He looks like he's not sure whether he's happy or furious about being reunited with his father. Though the fact that he doesn't rush in for a hug while screaming "Daddy" does indicate that he isn't thrilled.

"My name is Neal Cassidy," He states firmly, clenching his hands into fists and finding his voice. "I haven't been 'Bae' for a very long time." Emma studies Gold, forgetting about her torrid history with Neal Cassidy as she sees the glitter in his father's eyes. Gold is crying.

"I am so sorry," Gold tells him, speaking in the strange, sincere voice that he uses with Henry, "for everything. Not a day has passed that I haven't been trying every moment to find you…to get back to you."

"Spare me," Neal mutters bitterly, folding his arms though he still doesn't move. His eyes flicker over to Emma and Henry, clutching each other in the falling sleet. Her hair is damp and now clinging to her skin like icy threads and Henry's teeth are practically chattering.

"Look," Emma sighs resignedly, "much as I hate to break up this conversation, Henry is freezing, I'm soaked and I'm taking him to dry off. You two work it out." She starts to urge a reluctant Henry back toward the street to find a coffee shop or restaurant to warm themselves in. Neal looks from her to Henry in slight confusion, but nods.

"Fine," He agrees, "Let's go back to my place." His eyes move to Gold, who swallows his emotion and limps toward them slowly. Neal watches him momentarily, staring in wonder as the man struggles to walk as if he can't believe it. He shakes his head, obviously thinking better of something and shoves his hands into his pockets, shuffling beside Gold.

"So," Henry whispers conspiratorially to her as we're walking, "Do you know him?"

"Not now, kid," She pleads, gently putting his hood over his wet hair, "You'll catch your death, ya know."

The trip back to Neal's loft seems shorter than the chase that brought them to the alleyway. The building is crumbling slightly, but Emma can't help but think it has character. It's just the kind of place they would have loved when they were together. They were always interested in old places and Neal had a fascination with antiques. The interior of his apartment proves that he hasn't changed a bit. A collection of various trinkets and signs adorn every available surface. In all actuality it reminds her of Gold's shop. How very appropriate. A large sign on the wall catches her eye.

CLEANER & HATTERS.

This place is so…Neal. Even the yellow Peter Pan record propped up against the record player reminds her of him. He always did seem to her like a little boy trapped in a man's body. And it all makes perfect sense. The nightmares. The desperation for a family. The lingering sadness in her eyes that he'd never tell her about. It even almost made sense that he would leave her…maybe he was terrified of becoming his father and destroying both of them.

But why?

And why should she even care? The point was that he did abandon her, pregnant and in jail. But, damn it all, she did. She did care. She almost needed him to reveal that there had been a valid reason for leaving her. There was no way she was going to analyze why, but she cared.

"Uh," Neal runs a hand through his unruly, wet hair as they all crowd into his tiny apartment, "Make yourselves at home."

"What are these?" Henry asks, inspecting something hanging near the door.

"Oh," Neal chuckles, opening his cupboard and frowning for a second, "Those are monocles. Kind of like glasses…you know, like the Monopoly guy wears?"

"Oh!" Henry nods, though he still looks unsure. It makes Emma smirk, despite herself. Gold has perched himself uncomfortably on the desk chair, white knuckling his cane. His jaw is set and she can see he's completely out of his element, though he doesn't look as terrified as he had in the alley. That's when Emma sees it behind him.

The Dream-Catcher. He kept it after eleven years.

Her mouth falls open slightly, her eyes stinging and her low lip quivering of its own accord. She shakes it off quickly, composing herself and adopting a scowl before anyone sees her moment of weakness.

"Um, okay…" Neal says awkwardly, "I have a half gallon of expired milk, an egg, some powdered sugar and some stale chips. Any takers?" He asks, brandishing the bag of potato chips. Emma makes a face and shakes her head. "Yeah, sorry." Leaning against his kitchen counter, he drums his fingers on it. The tension in the room is pretty much palpable.

"Emma, I have to—"

"Bae, if you'll just let me—"

"So, you still have the—"

They all start talking at the same time, stopping and staring at each other, unsure of what to do. Henry can only stare between the three adults, dark eyes bouncing from one to the next. Neal puts his hand up and gives Gold a tired look. "Just give me one moment, please," He sighs raggedly, before turning his gaze on Emma, who stiffens. "Emma, I know I don't deserve one second of your life, but I have to tell you what happened."

"I already know what happened, Neal," She reminds him sardonically, ignoring Gold's ashen face. He's uncharacteristically quiet for once. Neal's jaw tightens, and she watches as he crosses to his desk and picks up a piece of paper, swallowing before he hands it to Emma. It's a postcard reading 'Greetings from Storybrooke'. On the back is written one word. Broken. "What is this?" She finally voices, looking at him suspiciously.

"It's from August. He told me he'd tell me when you did the—"

"Wait," Emma stops him, "Hold the freaking phone. August? August Booth?"

"Yeah," Neal affirms, running a hand through his hair again. A nervous habit of his. "He caught up with me the night I went to go sell the watches. I thought he was a cop. He cornered me, he—"

"August Booth cornered you eleven years ago when we were together…" Emma repeats, trying to grasp the concept that Pinocchio knew Neal before she knew him.

"Yes," Neal echoes, "He said you had a job to do. He told me about the curse, he showed me—"

"What, and you just believed him?" Emma fires at Neal, standing and advancing on him, "'Oh hey, I'm a complete stranger, but your girlfriend has to break a magical curse.' And you just believed him?!"

"Emma," Neal interrupts her, nodding toward Gold to remind her, "Yes. I believed him." She remembers who he really is, and the concept is immediately more plausible. It pisses her off. "Because I know more than anything what magic entails…and what it can take away. And I only had to see what August showed me to know that it wasn't a joke." Emma lets her eyes fall on Henry, who is watching, fascinated by Neal's story. "I knew immediately who was behind it all…and it was my fault."

"What did he show you?" She hears herself ask him, though she suspects she already knows.

"He was creating the book, to help you, and he had a drawing. It was a dagger," His eyes slant toward his father angrily. "Emma, I knew if I didn't let you go, I'd be personally responsible for that curse not being broken. And I couldn't handle knowing more lives had been ruined by magic…especially if it were because of me."

"And you thought I couldn't possibly break the curse if I wasn't with you?" She challenges, hurting. "I'm not a complete moron, Neal. Don't you think I might have believed easier if I'd had you to help me?"

"No," Neal sighs, "Because it had to be twenty-eight years after the curse was cast. And if I had stayed and you had figured out that your parents were trapped in that town, you would have gone looking for them. It would have been too soon. And you wanted to go to Tallahassee…"

"No!" Emma responds brokenly, "I wanted to go to Tallahassee with you. I stayed there for two years, Neal. I waited, because I thought there had been some mistake. That you would come find me and explain that it had all been a misunderstanding. That we'd been set up. But you set me up! You left me alone in prison for eleven months with no consolation but a yellow Volkswagen!"

"That's not true!" Neal protests, coming closer, desperately, "I told him to give the money to you too! I gave you the money!"

Emma halts, wide eyed, as her heart beats loudly in her ears. "What money?"

"From the watches!" Neal exclaims, "Twenty-thousand dollars! I told him to make sure you got it!"

"Who?!"

"August!" He answers, making her heart sink as the depth of betrayal hits her like a bullet to the chest. Her friend had lied to her. Stolen from her. And in doing so, August might as well have ripped Henry from her arms as well. With that money, she could have arranged for him to stay with someone until her release. She could have kept him. It's then that she collapses to sit on the bed, burying her face in her hands, her body wracked with sobs that she's held in for over a decade. She hasn't had one ounce of control over any part of her life. Everything has been pre-determined for her.

"Emma?" Neal's hesitant voice steals into her thoughts. A hand on her shoulder makes her jump and slap him away.

"Don't touch me!" She screams at him, wiping under her eyes fruitlessly. "Don't you realize what you did? You gave Pinocchio twenty-thousand dollars! He took the money and ran! I never got your money!"

"Emma…" Henry's small voice cuts in, but she continues to rail at her ex, needing to punish someone for stealing her life.

"By the time I found out about the curse, I had lost everything I ever loved. It took me months to believe it!"

"Emma," Henry says again, a bit louder.

"I had to give you your best chance," Neal murmurs sadly.

"I am so tired of people saying that. You want to know what my best chance is?" She says warnings, starting toward him again, "It's letting me decide what my best chance is…I am so tired of people deciding what's right for me. I am twenty-nine years old now. I lost my home, my childhood…" Her eyes fall on Henry, "Everything—"

"Mom!" Henry cries, bringing the commotion to a screeching halt, making every head turn toward him. Neal stops, staring in disbelief from Henry to Emma and then back again. That's when Emma sees his eyes doing the math, staring at Henry as if he's seeing him for the first time. She can see her secret is revealed. He reels back as if he's been sucker punched in the gut. "My dad wasn't a firefighter…was he?" Henry says in a hushed voice.

"Oh, God..." Neal looks lost, unable to take his eyes off of Henry, though Emma can't tell if he's horrified or in awe. Her eyes steal to Gold, who for all of his predictions and his magic, looks genuinely surprised. This strangely calms her, because she knows that he hasn't known that Henry was his grandson all along.

Oh no. Henry is Gold's grandson.

The realization is like cold water hitting her. It's a dizzying and terrifying thought. And yet, that softness he always shows for Henry reassures her. She knows that her son will never come to harm by Rumpelstiltskin's hand. For that, she's grateful. And maybe knowing what he knows now, Gold will be in their corner. Then again, this is the man who abandoned his son to live alone in a world he didn't know.

Like her.

But, to his credit, Gold has searched for his son for centuries. Has been working tirelessly to right the wrongs he caused his boy. Granted, he went about it the wrong way. But, having gone through what she had recently, being trapped in a world apart from Henry, she knows that she would have done the same were she in his position. All that had mattered to her was finding a way home to her son. Her parents had given her up to save her, even though it had meant losing seeing her entire childhood. Because that's what parents do. They make mistakes because they're just as human as anyone else. And after looking for his son for three hundred years, Gold has finally found him. And, as bad as it had been for him to let his son go, the time apart isn't worth losing the time they could have together now.

And that's when it hits Emma that she has to forgive Neal.

Because if she doesn't, then she's a hypocrite…and she's robbing Henry of his best chance. And that's not right. She hadn't had parents growing up, but damned if her kid isn't going to. She got her second chance with Henry.

"No," She finally answers Henry, "He wasn't. I'm sorry for lying to you…" She kneels before him, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her coat. "Henry, I'm so sorry."

"I knew," He confesses, looking down at his hands, "I knew you lied. But I knew you weren't ready to tell me the truth. So I pretended to believe." She draws him tightly against her, holding him as tightly as she can without hurting him.

"Geez, kid," She sniffs, burying her nose in his baby soft hair, "What the heck did I ever do to deserve you?" She pulls back, looking into his sweet, pale face, "You know you're the best thing that ever happened to me, right?" His face breaks into a smile, despite the situation.

"Yeah," He grins, hugging her again, before looking up at Neal and holding his hand out for a shake. "I'm Henry."

Shaken, Neal accepts his hand and swallows heavily, "Neal Cassidy."

"Cool," Henry says, grabbing his hand and taking him toward Gold. Emma watches, quietly as her son brings him to his father. "Look, I know you're mad at your dad for letting you go, but let me tell you…as a kid who never had a dad…if I had a second chance with my dad," He gives Neal a meaningful look, making Emma laugh through her tears, "I'd forgive him. Most people don't ever get that." Neal is still staring down at Henry, trying to process the fact that he's a father himself now, but Emma watches him draw in a deep breath.

"I'm not mad," He finally admits, shaking his head wearily, "I've never been mad…"

"You haven't?" Gold asks, struggling to stand. Henry backs away from them slowly, giving Emma the thumbs up.

"Hurt. Confused. Devastated," Neal offers, shrugging helplessly, "Not mad. I know about Milah."

"What?" The surprise in Gold's voice is blatant.

"I know she abandoned me. I know about…her heart," He swallows, meeting Gold's eyes. "Hook," He explains, answering the questions in his father's eyes.

"Captain Hook?" Henry asks excitedly. Neal meets his eyes, nodding.

"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy," Neal tells Gold, "I know she hurt you. And I hated that you let people hurt you because you were too afraid to stand up for yourself. I hated that I wasn't enough for you. That you needed magic to feel complete. But," He puts a hand on Gold's shoulder, "I never hated you."

"I couldn't ask you to forgive me, Bae," Gold utters sadly, "I've made so many mistakes in my life. Hurt so many people. And you were right," He sags against the desk, "I am a coward. Always have been."

"That," Neal tells Gold hoarsely, "Is the bravest thing you've ever said. And I was wrong. You aren't a coward…you've never needed magic. All you ever needed was someone who believes in you. And you had me."

"And you have Belle," Henry chimes in, looking rather pleased with himself. Emma pulls him close, kissing the top of his head.

"Guess you've gained a grandson too," Neal adds, sounding dazed, staring at Henry again.

"He's always reminded me of you in a strange way," Gold says fondly, giving Henry an approving nod. "And yes, there's Belle…" He meets Neals eyes, "I've met someone."

"Does she love you?" Neal asks.

"She must," Emma mutters, "She's still there."

Gold chuckles appreciatively, agreeing. "Indeed. Can we…" He swallows; face crumpling, "Could we try to start again?"

Neal looks over his shoulder at Emma, longingly. It sends a thrill of idiotic hope through her veins. "Gods, I hope so." Gold pulls him into a tight embrace, squeezing his eyes closed and taking in long, deep breaths. Emma slips into the kitchen area to give them their moment, bringing Henry with her as she opens Neal's empty cupboards and shakes her head. She wants to talk to Neal about all of this, but she can't do it in front of Gold and Henry. This is something that needs to be discussed over drinks…copious amounts of drinks.

"We need to talk," Emma tells Neal before they leave, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket, "Not here. Alone. Later."

"I can keep an eye on Henry if you need," Gold offers, hearing this. Emma nods, though she can't help being slightly wary of leaving her kid with Rumpelstiltskin. But, she knows inherently that he won't hurt Henry. Especially now that they're family. He came to find his son and found a family.

Her family.

"There's a place nearby," Neal tells her, "The Blarney Stone. We could go there. Say, around seven?"

"Do they serve booze?" She asks, making him laugh.

"It's an Irish pub, Ems. Yeah," He points out. His use of the former pet name forces her to suppress the urge to fling herself into his arms. She hates that that part of her is still beneath the ice she's put around her heart, forbidding her to fully trust anyone. She hates that maybe the strong willed, hardened Emma that's the sheriff of Storybrooke may just be the mask and the vulnerable, loving girl with glasses is who she still truly is. And most of all, she hates that she still loves Neal Cassidy. Or Baelfire. Or whatever.

"Seven it is," She agrees, swallowing the lump in her throat when he squeezes her hand.

"You haven't changed in eleven years, Emma," He murmurs to her as they're all walking out the door so that she can go back to the hotel and put on dry clothing. They meet eyes, hazel boring into brown, "After all this time, you still take my breath away. See ya, Car Thief." Gathering what little wits she still possesses, she manages a curt nod, hiding her reaction.

"Yeah. See ya." She pauses, and allows herself to smirk, "Pervert."

When she closes the door behind her, she can't see him, but somehow, she knows he's grinning like an idiot.