Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with SPN or Once Upon a Time. Neither is my toy box and I'm merely playing.

A/N: An origin story for Henry.

A Truth Among the Lies:

Dean lied. Everything that had come out of Dean's mouth had been a lie. Emma had still let him talk her into going to his motel room with him. She hadn't questioned the current dark bruises or the scars she'd found. She understood that sometimes the truth was too difficult and the lie was easier. Still she ached for at least one truth from him. She couldn't understand why, but she wanted one truth. Instead she watched silently as he packed.

"I can go," she offered, "You should get some sleep. I at least have an apartment."

He paused, a shirt half posed to go into his duffle. Their eyes met.

"What's your name?" she found herself asking, unable to stop, "Your real name."

He frowned at her, then down at the bag in his hands.

"You could at least be truthful about that," she pointed out.

Their eyes met again and he stared at her confused.

"You didn't need to make up stories to get me here," Emma shrugged, "I wanted to…"

"Dean Winchester."

"Like the gun?"

He nodded. She nodded back, one truth that was all she wanted. For a moment she could see the other truths brimming to the surface, the weight of him holding them down became almost palpable.

"I just wanted a name," she told him, fearing she wouldn't want his truths.

The duffel dropped to the floor as he crossed over and pressed her back into the bed. His name was enough, all she wanted until months later when she sat alone in her car trying to process what the doctor had just told her.

Emma shuddered. She wasn't sick, just pregnant.

She stared at herself in the review mirror, startled by how young she looked to herself. A name wasn't enough. There wasn't a part of her that wanted the rest of his truths or the way they would've made each other miserable if she'd…if he'd…it'd only been the one night.

Emma pressed her hand against her still mostly flat stomach and closed her eyes tightly. She had to slow, had to think, but of one thing she was certain: she was going to handle this herself. No help. No Dean Winchester, even if she could track him down. It was time for her to stop recognizing everyone else's lies and start to make a few truths for herself.