Present Day:

Emma flicks her hand halfheartedly, lighting the candle on her single cupcake with a thought. The lock clicks and she freezes, her hand curling, drawing upon her limited magic. It is not as strong here as in the Enchanted Forest, or Neverland for that matter, but it is enough. There aren't many people who know who she is, but still, she is not about to take any chances. Once upon a time she had enemies and that sort of caution doesn't go away in the course of a few years spent in relative safety.

The door opens, revealing August. She considers hitting him with her gathered magic and passing it off as an accident, seeing as he just broke in.

"Planning on giving me a piece of that cake?" he asks, stepping into her apartment.

"Really?" Emma demands incredulously. "Did you really break into my apartment to steal half a cupcake?"

"Of course not. That's just a crime of opportunity. I'm here to help you achieve your destiny." He grins.

Emma narrows her eyes at her unwelcome intruder. "Your help has a history of ruining my life," she says with ice in her tone.

"We've had this conversation. The prophecy ring any bells? People counting on you? Your family?" He stops short, realizing his blunder.

"I had a family," she says very quietly. She twists the ring on her finger absently. "If you were really helping me, you would find a way to send me home."

"Emma, we've talked about that," August says, his tone begging her to let go of a topic they have covered a thousand times. "Home is three hundred years ago. Even if we could get back to the Enchanted Forest, which we can't, at least until you break the curse, there is nothing for either of us over there, not anymore."

"So you just rolled into Boston to ruin my birthday."

"You're sitting alone in the dark eating a half a cupcake."

"Would have been a whole cupcake," Emma points out in weak defense.

"Either way, you clearly don't need my help to ruin your birthday. The prophecy says you are supposed to return and save everyone today and I've found a way for you to do that. Hang on, how do you even know when your birthday is? Didn't you lose track during that stint in Neverland?"

"I would have." She looks away from August. "Killian insisted on keeping track. He said that if we lost track we were giving up hope of ever going somewhere that time mattered. I don't care about breaking some curse for a bunch of people I've never met. I care about getting back to him."

"Do your… I'll generously call them plans… for this evening further you getting back in time in the Enchanted Forest?"

She blew out the candle with an angry huff and snatched up a fork to cut the cupcake in half.

"Did you make a wish?"

"Same one I always make. Not that it helps." She passes the smaller piece of the cupcake to August. "What changed?"

"I have a location."

"Fine. If it has a chance of getting me out of this…" she waves around the apartment. "I'll go."

"Oh, one other thing I forgot to mention about my source for the location," August says. "It's your son."

Flashback: 300 years ago

Emma made her way carefully across the deck of the good ship Tryphine. The ship was already listing hard to port and another volley from the navy vessel made it shudder beneath her. Splinters from the shattered mast flew past, grazing her neck and arms.

"Move!" she shouted at one of the crewmen, shoving him out of the way of the falling mast before continuing on, picking her way carefully to the quarterdeck. "Captain, we have three cannonballs left. I told the gunners to wait on your command."

She frowned at the approaching navy vessel. She could see why Captain Bluebeard wanted it so badly but he should never have attempted to seize it in this battered old galley. The captain appeared lost in thought, staring out with avaricious eyes.

"Captain, what are your orders?" Emma asked, a little louder this time.

"I want that ship!" he snarled. "Prepare for boarding."

"Aye Captain," she said, drawing her sword.

"Not you," Silver, the quartermaster said. "You come with me." He led the way below, keeping low to avoid fire from the other ship.

The damage was worse down there with splinters of damaged walls and water leaking in through cannon holes. Silver rifled through a trunk and finally tossed a wad of fabric at Emma. "Put this on."

"It's a dress. I can't fight in this."

"Not, but can you lie like a rug in it? You're a smart girl. You know we don't stand a chance with the Captain's… well, plan for want of a better word."

"Isn't that mutiny?" she asked, not disputing its accuracy.

"Which is punishable by death, much like trying to seize a better vessel with a larger crew. "Besides," he reasoned. "I'm not acting against the captain, just giving the orders he didn't think of. I mean for all of us, our overenthusiastic captain included, to make it out alive."

Emma rolled her eyes and snatched up the dress. "What do you want me to do?"

Lieutenant Jones pulled on the boarding line to test its hold before swinging across. He was not, strictly speaking, required to lead the boarding party but it would be poor form indeed to send all the enlisted men into battle while all the officers waited in safety on the ship.

He'd had a row with Liam about it. Liam had finally conceded when Killian accused him of thinking like a brother instead of a captain.

"Damn straight I'm thinking like your brother," he'd said, but relented. He wanted so badly to be a good captain in his new post and Killian knew how to appeal to that.

He landed on the other ship, adjusting his stance to account for the badly listing deck.

"Surrender in the name of the King!" Killian shouted, drawing his blade. "And you will receive a fair trial."

"Followed by a short drop and a sudden stop," Starkey muttered under his breath and a few of the others laughed.

The other crew put up a hard fight because, while Starkey spoke out of turn, and Killian would have words with him about it later, he was not wrong about the fate awaiting pirates.

Killian was good with a sword, but not so much as to take victory for granted. He had one huge advantage over many of the others. He learned to fight dirty before he learned to fight fair. He no longer stooped to that level but he recognized the old tricks from his opponents and knew how to counter them.

The captain stepped into his path.

"Do the smart thing, Boy," he said, twirling a wicked looking cutlass in one hand. It was the easy, practiced motion of a man who was not merely accustomed to violence but relished it.

"I'm here to arrest you in the name of the King," Killian said levelly. He held his own blade at the ready, albeit with less flourish.

"By smart thing I meant anything other than that," the pirate said. He looked genuinely amused by the young lieutenant who dared to threaten him on the deck of his own ship. "Give it up, Boy. You don't have what it takes."

Killian's knuckles whitened against the hilt of his sword. The pirate captain struck, testing Killian's defenses, and the blow shuddered painfully up his arm. He took a deep breath and forces himself to relax his grip.

They circled each other, each one testing, neither ready to commit to an offensive. Killian could hear the sounds of battle raging around them, but none of that mattered. It was just him and the pirate captain.

The pirate's blade flashed up, coming to rest against Killian's neck.

"Scared, Boy?" the pirate asked.

Killian squared his shoulders, meeting the pirate's gaze evenly. Of course he was scared. He would have been a fool not to be. But if he was to die, he meant to do so with honor.

"You really aren't going to back down?" the pirate asked. He sounded almost impressed in spite of himself. "Impressive. You'd make a hell of a pirate."

"I would never turn pirate," Killian said fiercely. "I will never betray my captain and my king." He ducked backwards, knocking the pirate's sword aside with his own. It stung his cheek and he felt warm blood mix with the salt spray.

The captain was more skilled and had many years of experience on Killian, but as the fight wore on that started working against him. Killian had speed and a young man's stamina. He really only had to outlast his enemy and he knew it.

The ship lurched again and it took all of Killian's experience practically growing up on the ocean to keep his footing. The other captain didn't quite fall but it gave Killian an opening. He didn't hesitate and drove his blade into his foe even as the ship settled into its new angle.

"Excellent work," a man said, stepping over the fresh body of the captain. "Never thought I'd see the day anybody bested the old bastard. I yield to your superior prowess, Lieutenant." He threw his sword down to the deck.

"You do?" Killian asked. It was not that he wanted to fight the man, but he also knew how this worked. The surviving pirates would be hanged upon reaching port. Besides, Killian had just killed his captain. He should want revenge or something. He certainly should not just give up and die.

"Yes. I surrender."

"Very well," Killian said, bewildered. Around them many of the other men of the pirate crew followed his lead. "Gibbs, see to it that all of the prisoners are taken to the brig."

He directed several of the men to accompany them to make certain the prisoners did not try anything. He sent more than should be strictly necessary because he was sure something was very wrong with the entire situation. Far too many of the pirates surrendered far too easily. He directed most of the others to affect repairs on the confiscated ship.

Killian headed bellow to personally inspect the ship's cargo. To his surprise there was a girl in the brig. She stood near the bars, braced against the rolling of the ship with a practiced ease that spoke of experience on the waves. Her dirty white dress, more undergarment than proper dress really, was torn and hung off her shoulder.

"It's alright," he said gently, casting about for the keys. "You're safe now, Lass." He waded through seawater higher than his boots to retrieve the key from a hook on the wall. She shrank back as he approached the door but the fear implied in the gesture didn't quite reach her eyes. He unlocked the door and shrugged out of his coat, handing it to her to wear over the torn dress.

"Thank you," she said.

Present Day:

Emma calls Bae on the way to Storybrooke. Eight years in this world and she still has never been able to think of him as Neal.

"Hey. Good news, we found Storybrooke."

"I found Storybrooke," August protests from the passenger's seat, loudly enough to be heard through the phone. "She just found some bail jumpers."

"Well, good for you I guess," Bae, Neal, she mentally corrects herself, says. He hates it when she or August calls him Bae.

"You could come with us, help break the curse," Emma suggests.

She can hear him snort on the other end of the line. "I'm not like you, Auntie. I'm not looking for some kind of family reunion. I have a life here."

Emma pushes back a stab of jealously because Neal does have a life here and she doesn't. How can she when her life is three hundred years ago in another realm. Neal has a good job, friends, even a chance at love with his new girlfriend. Even August has… well, nothing stable or long term, but he has a knack for enjoying himself anywhere and in any company. He manages to find whatever temptations are available wherever he goes and runs with it. All Emma has are memories, although if August is right, perhaps she can find Rumplestiltskin, the only family she is likely to have left. He might even know something about Killian, although a piece of her knows she will be afraid to ask. She runs her thumb over the silver ring on her finger.

"Good luck anyway though," Neal continues. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Yeah, thanks," she says, knowing how unlikely that really is. "Do you want to know how he's doing?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I guess. Just… don't tell him I'm here."

"Of course not."

She frowns when she gets off the phone. She isn't ready to deal with any of this. She has no idea how to deal with the fact that her son lives in the cursed town she is supposed to save. She has no idea how to break the curse. And more than any of that, she isn't ready to actually get back to the Enchanted Forest and see for certain that Killian isn't there.

"Does he know who I am?" she asks. "The kid."

"Of course," August says. "Both your name and the fact that you are supposed to break the curse. He also knows we are on our way."

"How does he know any of this?"

"Apparently he has a magical storybook that has the stories of most of your family."

"And the fact that we are on our way?"

"I told him that. He was looking for his birth mother online and I ran across him and we started talking about the curse."

"Don't his parent's mind that he's talking to random strangers online?" Emma asks.

"I'm not a random stranger," August objects, managing to sound hurt. "And it's just his mother and I think she would be more concerned that his mother is the Savior."

"Wait, why would his mother believe in curses?"

"Probably because she cast it."

"My son was adopted by the Evil Queen? The woman who cast the curse? The woman who wanted everyone in the entire Enchanted Forest to suffer a fate worse than death? The woman I am going there to stop?" She almost added the woman who ruined my life but didn't mean to let August off the hook for that.

"The very same."

"Then let's get to it. Get my son back, destroy the Evil Queen, break the curse, and get back to the Enchanted Forest."

"Is that the plan? You getting Henry back?"

"Yes. No. Sort of. I don't know. I can't leave him with the Evil Queen. I gave him up to give him his best chance and that is not with the Evil Queen."

Flashback:

"Welcome aboard the Jewel of the Realm," the captain said with a smile.

"Thank you," Emma said. Faking relief at being rescued from pirates was not difficult, given her relief at not being recognized as one of said pirates. "Fortune favored me when your Leftenant found me."

"What ship were you travelling aboard?" the lieutenant asked.

"The Queen Anne," Emma replied, allowing her worry about being discovered leak into her voice as residual fear from being captured by pirates. She supposed a proper noble lady might not be comfortable around any sailors really.

"The one that sails under the Duke of the Frontland's colors?" he pressed.

She knew that trick, and also knew that the duke had very few ships, just enough to run supplies, not even enough for that sometimes.

"No. It is… was… a smaller ship, an independent merchant vessel."

"Bearing what cargo?" the lieutenant asked. She could see the suspicion behind his eyes.

"I'm sure the lady is tired after her harrowing ordeal, don't you think, Leftenant?" the captain asked pointedly.

"Aye, Captain," he admitted, backing down from his questioning. "Apologies, My Lady," he added with a deep nod. He managed sincerity without yielding his suspicions. "Might I at least inquire as to your name?"

"Emma," she said. Emma Nobody. Emma, the daughter of nobody in particular. Emma, the girl no one wanted. Those would all have been true, but they lacked a certain respectability as a merchant's daughter. "Emma Swan."

"Then I will show you to your room, Miss Swan."

She followed him down the ladder. He offered his hand at the base in order to help her find her footing, then led the way through a very narrow hallway to a small room with a bunk, a writing desk, and a chair.

"You just have spare rooms sitting empty, waiting for guests?" she asked.

"Of course not. However, as we do have a guest, I'll bunk down with the crew." He said it as though giving up his quarters to her was the only reasonable course of action.

"Oh," she said.

"I'll see if I can find you some… a change of clothes. The other ship's cargo might have something."

"Right. Thank you."

"Of course. It's my honor, M'lady." He gave a half bow and departed.

She didn't roll her eyes, but it was a close thing. She couldn't decide if he was bad at flirting or if he was for real. If he was for real he should be an easy mark.