A/N: It's been my headcanon that Regina used her own memories to give Emma her happy ending. This is a one-shot kinda dealing with that..and the aftermath.

~x~x~

Something was missing.

She didn't remember when the thought first came to her. When it was that she realized there was a dull ache in her chest, ache she was never able to get rid of for long.

And these dates. There was never a click. It always felt like something was missing. And she didn't understand why. Just as much as she didn't understand that whenever she looked at the pictures she had framed of her and Henry throughout the years, something always felt off. They were thoughts she didn't dwell on for too long, because she was happy otherwise. But they kept returning nevertheless. Increasing in frequency.

Emma looked from the dinner she was preparing towards the table, where Henry was making his homework and smiled.

But her eyes irrevocably trailed across the table, and her smile faltered.

Something was missing. And she didn't understand why.

She caught him flipping through the pages again. Though he never seemed to read anything, just glanced at the pictures and moved on. Almost, Emma thought, as if he was looking for something. It had made her wonder when he had originally asked if she would buy this book for him. He was getting a little too old for fairy tales after all.

A few times some of the pictures had caught her attention as well. Maybe it was the way they were drawn. Maybe it was the people in the illustrations themselves. Or perhaps in one of them in particular. Something about it reminded her of the dreams she had a few times.

Though she didn't remember much about them when she woke up again. Just this dull ache. And words that echoed all around her but she was never able to decipher.

She looked back over Henry's shoulder, at his fingers tracing the pictures of Snow White and Prince Charming and wondered why he always lingered on this one the longest.

She made lasagna with red pepper flakes once. And when Henry asked her why, she didn't have a reply ready. Because she didn't even know why she had herself. As if it was something she had no control over. Eventually she had just shrugged at him, took a bite and savored the unique taste it left across her palate.

She hadn't made it again afterwards.

He had been outside of her apartment again. Emma was sure she had spied the telltale signs of his leather coat. It made her roll her eyes. Someone should really tell him about his lack of fashion-sense. Nevertheless she had about had it with his stalkery self.

If she saw him again she would be sure to call in some favors and get him locked up for a while.

That same dream again. She wanted to curse it for leaving her so restless every time she had it. Because she was sure it was the same one. It left this same gnawing emptiness she had always felt afterwards.

There was something new this time around though. A pair of brown eyes staring at her so lovingly that it made Emma wish she remembered more.

When she looked down at her hand she could feel phantom sensations. Like someone was cradling it and she didn't understand why the thought brought tears to her eyes.

He had been sick once. And Emma had been so worried. It was just a case of the flu, but she had practically been out of her mind with worry. She had to cancel hunting down one of the fled fugitives and ask one of colleagues to step in, so that she was able to stay at home and watch over him.

She had sat with him all night, waiting for his fever to break and read from the book despite knowing he only looked at the pictures. Once he had woken up, his glassy eyes slowly focusing on her as she hovered over his bed. He had seemed confused for a moment, but then the corners of his mouth had slowly curved into a smile. A smile she had gladly returned. She had given him some water, cleaned him up a little and told him to go back to sleep. Though only after pressing a lingering kiss on his forehead and calling him her little prince.

It wasn't until she went back to the kitchen to prepare a little chicken-soup for him that it dawned on her that she had never called him that before. And when she tried to jog her memory, she just came up blank.

What the hell had this guy been thinking?! She passed it off as not important to Henry, but inwardly she was both stewing with anger as well as thoroughly confused. That and the ever present feeling of missing something seemed to increase tenfold.

The longer she thought about it though, the more apparent it became to her that there was something about him that she recognized. Something about him that made her think of things. But they remained out of reach. Like blurred images at the edge of her awareness, a voice whispering her name, a kiss pressed on her forehead.

Frowning she pressed a finger against her lips and made a face. She should've kneed him a lot harder in the groin.

She stared at the baby pictures again and couldn't wrap her mind around why she was able to recall it all so vividly, but some of the other stuff was a blur. Why was she able to remember his first word to her, his first steps. The way he sometimes kept crying until she picked him and walked across the apartment, watching the city lights from the window until he fell back asleep again.

Why did some things come to her so easily. She didn't even really understand why she moved from Boston to New York. Why she had left behind her job there, the apartment, even most of her old stuff. Why had she started anew here. And why couldn't she remember which one of her jobs had given her enough money on the bank to be able to afford this apartment.

Sometimes, when her thoughts drifted, and she focused on the remnants of the dreams she continued to have, she thought that was when it all started. When she moved. She had blamed it on the new location at first. New place, new faces, a different city. Hell, maybe the house itself was haunted?

But now, especially with this stalker guy that just wouldn't leave her alone, maybe there really was more to it than that.

She woke up crying the other day. Crying and reaching out. For what she didn't know. It was gone before she was able to decipher what her dream had been trying to tell her. The tears were real though.

As was the only other thing she was able to remember.

A lone figure, their black silhouette offset by the purple cloud that surrounded them.

The tears started anew, and something shattered in her chest.

"Talk," she told him, "and no funny business or you'll be back behind bars before you know it."

Mentally she prayed that she had made the right decision by letting him out at all. But there was something… Something. And despite what he had done to her, despite his strange appearances, for some reason he was the only thing that made sense.

"You used to know me," he finally said after seemingly mulling over something for a while. "But you forgot me. You forgot a lot of things."

"And you thought what, kissing me was a good way to make me remember?"

"Uhm..yes actually."

She wanted to laugh at him. She actually did too for a moment. A short bark of laughter that brought a few tears to her eyes.

"You cannot be serious. So I'm what some sort of amnesiac assassin or something? Did you escape from a mental institution and happened to watch The Long Kiss Goodnight the night before or something? You can't believe in this crap yourself."

"I can make you remember."

It was said with such seriousness that it should have made her laugh again. Instead it just made her stare at him. Off her own accord her gaze drifts to one of his hands. It takes him a moment to notice it, and subsequently hide the hand in question behind his back.

"If you're going to try and kiss me again I can assure you I can do much worse than…"

"No, there's another way," he said, the tone he used soft and pleading. "Besides I know I peaked your curiosity, why else seek me out again."

Was he for real? She wanted so badly to slap that smug look off his face and tell one of her cop friends to put him back in the slammer, but something stopped her. Somehow there were images that came to her. Of being at the opposite sides of bars before and it made her frown. It also caused her a mild headache and she rubbed at her temples wearily.

"The truth is that I don't know why I did," Emma finally admitted. "There's just..I don't know okay? All I know is that I feel empty all the time. I have a good life but I just feel empty. There's something missing. And these dreams…"

"Am I in them?"

"No?"

He looked disappointed at that and she rose up an eyebrow. "You do realize everything you've been doing up until now has been downright creepy, right?"

"Like I said, you used to know me."

Perhaps it's the way he said it. The sadness. The way it just snapped something right into place for her. "I did, didn't I? I don't understand, Killian," she whispered, using the name he had given her for the first time since she met him. And it was strange how it wasn't strange for her to use it. "I don't understand any of this."

"I know you have no reason to trust me love, but there is something to make you remember again. A potion someone made for you." When she gave him a suspicious look, he held up his hands above his head. "No funny business I promise you."

But it wasn't the promise that convinced her. It was the hand she had been staring at minutes before. Only for a moment she saw something else.

She saw a hook.

In her dreams there was a dragon once. A dragon towering above her, taunting her with a surprisingly human voice. And she fought it. She fought it and fought it, until she no longer could. Until her muscles were too tired to hold up the sword anymore. She hurled the sword forward with one last desperate move and watched as it struck the dragon in it's chest. But still it kept coming.

Sagging to her knees, Emma wanted to close her eyes in the face of her imminent defeat. But something still spurred her on. A voice that called to her. Told her to find her anger. And she looked up, eyes hard as steel, and extended her hands outwards. A wave of something hit the dragon just as it breathed out a cascade of flames and then it let out a shriek. A terrifying bone-chilling shriek before it crumbled away into nothingness.

Emma looked down at her hands, after falling to her knees once more. It hadn't been anger but love. So much love that her heart felt like it was about to burst with it.

She had wrinkled her nose, as something permeated her olfactory sense. Smoke, a voice whispered to her before she was able to comprehend what she was smelling.

And then she had woken up with her heart clenching in her chest. Something was missing, and it was slowly tearing her apart.

She had no idea what to tell Henry. Why this strange man with even stranger clothes was in the car when she had picked him up from school.

"I think there's something wrong with us." Was all the explanation she was able to think of. Even if it sounded strange to her own ears. "I miss..something Henry. Someone.." she whispered. "I see someone in my dreams sometimes. I hear a voice. And I just..I'm sorry kid, I don't how to explain. You just have to trust me on this, okay?"

"I do.." He trailed off and played with the hem of his jacket a little then looked up at her again. "I think I miss something too," he admitted. "I see things at school sometimes. Like a..deja-vu? It's like it happened before, and I don't understand ma, I thought it was just me."

"It's not just you Henry. This man, his name is Killian..he was at the door the other day. He says he can help. He says we knew him. I just..I don't understand how come we forgot," she muttered as she looked over at the man sitting on the other seat.

"It's a long story," Killian said. He held her gaze for a moment then shook his head and stared straight ahead. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. All you need to know is that you have to remember again. A lot of people's lives depend on it."

The potion in question seemed rather non-descript. Though it was glowing an odd colour. Something that made her once again cast suspicious glances the strange man's way. But she could detect no insincerity as he watched her. He actually seemed..hopeful?

She stared at the potion for another second or two more before downing half of it in one big gulp.

The remainder of it almost fell out of her hand as she staggered backwards right afterwards.

"I..I remember," she muttered.

She clapped a hand across her mouth in anguish and cried.

Despite Hook hammering on about time running out, she had still insisted on at least saying goodbye to a few of the friends she made. Even if it was on fake memories. Though fake or not, she still remembered it all. The last year at least was still fresh in her mind. The rest had moved into the background. A kaleidoscope of memories, some new, some old, coalescing until she was unsure which had truly happened and which hadn't.

In the end, she realized it didn't matter. In the end she also realized that some of what she felt..some of what she had experienced had been someone else's memories. Made to fit into her own happy ending. Only she hadn't been happy. Not really.

It hadn't been real.

She had hugged him. Then she had slapped the bastard across his face right afterwards.

"Ow, what the hell Swan?"

"That was for kissing me like that. And if you ever..ever even remotely think of doing it again I'll do far worse than merely kneeing you in the groin, are we clear?"

"Crystal," he said, a sour expression settling across his features.

"Thank you though." She smiled at him. "For reminding me of what I lost."

The trip on his ship was far faster than she would've thought. Far faster than she remembered the same journey being with Neal barely a.. No not a year ago. Longer, much longer. She wrapped her arms around herself and bent her head so Henry couldn't see the fresh tears that welled up in her eyes. He had taken it surprisingly well. Though he had really wanted to go back as well.

To see his other mother again. To see Storybrooke again.

That had been the biggest surprise of all. To know that it existed once more. And though she had fired of a hundred different questions to Hook, he'd merely been able to tell her it was really complicated. That Regina was protecting them, while at the same time being embroiled into a feud with the Wicked Witch.

Somehow the explanation had brought the tiniest of smiles to her lips. Because it brought back memories of all the other times she remembered Regina explaining that she had history with someone. It usually translated to her having fucked up their lives, and Emma figured this was just more of the same.

The mention of Regina had also brought back other memories.

Like their goodbye at the townline. The mention of the gift. And while she appreciated everything that had been given to her. It also had revealed something else to her.

"We're here," Hook said, even as the harbor faded into existence.

It looked the same. But it wasn't.

Nothing was the same.

"You're back, you're really back."

"Yes, and I remember, mom."

Snow just smiled, and cried. Her father on the other hand, she almost couldn't could breathe because he hugged her so tightly.

Henry got hugged by everyone in turn and Emma grinned when Pongo leapt up at him and Henry patted him. Some things at least remained the same, she thought, and she could almost believe she had never left at all.

It was only then that she noticed the bundle that Granny was cradling in her arms and Emma's eyes widened in surprise.

"Who's..I.."

"Meet your baby-sister, Madelyn," Snow announced as she took over the bundle from Granny.

"Oh.." Something twisted inside of her. But then when she took the baby from her mother's arms and the little thing smiled up at Emma and one of her tiny little hands reached out in an attempt to grab something to hold on to, everything else just fell away. "She's..she's beautiful."

Emma chuckled when Madelyn grabbed hold of one of her fingers and tried to suckle it. It reminded her of...

She couldn't contain the frown that creased her brows. And trust her mother to immediately take notice. Taking over the baby she placed her free hand below Emma's chin and tipped it up.

"Emma? What's wrong?"

Before she was able to answer however she spied Regina standing to the side, still looking a little like the odd man out.

"Nothing..it's nothing," Emma replied, smiling slightly when Regina finally looked right at her. "Regina?"

Even as she said the other woman's name, Henry had already ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her chest.

"Henry.."

Regina's voice breaking the silence reminded Emma of the last words she had heard from her. A year ago now. A year in which she had been missing something. The memories hadn't filled her up like she had imagined they would've. They always left this space behind. An emptiness that no amount of love for Henry, no amount of anything had been able to fill. And she hadn't realized why this was until she had drank the potion.

"I thought I would never see you again." Then Regina's tear-filled eyes flickered to Emma's own for a moment, before she averted them again. But it had been long enough for Emma to realize that the talk that would come next would have to be in a more private setting. Not in a harbor full of people who were bound to overhear.

"Emma."

"I assume the potion was your work," Emma asked, feeling a little awkward all of a sudden.

"It was."

Emma nodded. "Thank you." Not just for the potion, she thought, and as she caught the hints of a smile settling across Regina's features, she was sure Regina understood all the things that Emma hadn't said. Not yet anyhow.

"Did you have to send Hook though.."

Regina smirked, and Emma felt some of the uneasiness between them fade away. "He was the only one we could send away undetected, and there were a few other reasons. It was the only reliable way."

"He weirded ma out, mom," Henry chimed in.

"I am truly sorry about that," Regina replied as she ruffled through Henry's hair.

"He.." Emma's mouth closed again as she figured this wouldn't be something she wanted Henry to know about. "Can we talk somewhere more private? There are some things I'd like to discuss."

"Actually I'm not sure if we have time for.."

"Hook said we aren't in immediately danger right now, so I think we can make time, don't you?" Emma used a tone that she hoped would convey brooked no argument. They needed to talk. Now.

"Fine," Regina muttered, though the expression on her face betrayed that she wasn't at all happy about this turn of events.

"So talk," Regina said.

And Emma really wished she was able to. But she still felt a little woozy from being teleported to the mansion's study. She had barely even said her goodbyes to her parents and told them she would talk to them a little later and questioned if it was okay for them to have Henry over for the day at least, when Regina had poofed them both out.

"The things I remember. The memories, even the cooking, they were yours, weren't they?"

"Yes, though I modified most of them. I used some of my own memories as a foundation for what I was giving you."

Emma swallowed, walking around the upholstered chair that separated them. "What about your love."

"For Henry? I.."

"No..for me." And Emma knew she was right. She had known it right after she had drank the potion. But seeing Regina's mask crumble right in front of her very eyes just confirmed it. "It's true isn't it? I could feel it Regina..all this time, I didn't even know you existed and I could still feel it… Why didn't you tell me? Before the curse hit, why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"You had two other suitors, dear," Regina deflected, looking away from Emma, gaze snapping to some decoration on one of the walls instead. "But even then, I could ask you the same question, couldn't I?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emma questioned, even though deep inside she already knew exactly what Regina was hinting at.

"You think I don't recognize someone harboring some kind of puppy-dog love for me? Even as the Evil Queen I had many peasants, many desperate fools in love, throwing themselves at my feet."

"Really? You're going with that?" Emma closed her eyes, willing for the anger that bubbled up at Regina's words to fade away again. "I fucking missed something back there Regina. I ached, and I didn't know why. I saw glimpses of you in my dreams, I sometimes even thought I heard your voice. I might've been stupid, ignorant of my own feelings up until that moment at the town-line, but I knew then. I knew when I realized I would not see you again. But if you're going to dismiss it as puppy-dog love then we're done here, I don't even know why I bothered."

"Emma wait.."

She got stopped before she was even able to make it to the door. A hand settled across her arm. Lightly, but it was there anyway and all Emma could do was stop. Stop and stare at the floor, unsure of what to do or say.

"It would've made things harder. I couldn't.."

"I wish I had known," Emma whispered, still refusing to meet Regina's eyes, even as the hand on her arm attempted to turn around her fully. "I wish you would've told me."

"Nothing would've changed," Regina said, though the tone in which she was speaking was laced with regret. "All I was able to do right then was give you and Henry your happy endings."

"But it wasn't," Emma spoke up, the words forced through her constricted throat. "I appreciate the memories. I appreciate what you shared with me. I enjoyed the time I got to spend with Henry and I don't regret it Regina but.."

She looked up then. Right into Regina's brown eyes, shimmering with emotions she no longer seemed to be able to hide.

"But?" Regina prompted, her voice breathy as she spoke.

"It wasn't real," Emma said. She smiled and leaned in. Settling one of her hands against Regina's cheeks, Emma's smile grew. She kissed Regina then, slowly, just a brush of lips against lips.

"This is," Emma whispered as she drew back again.

"This is." It was echoed, and then Regina kissed her back.

~x~x~