Emma never really wanted to see her son ever again. If she could even call him her son. It had been ten years since she let Henry slip away from her. She had almost forgotten about him. Almost. His tiny face haunted her dreams occasionally. In those brief flashes right after the birth, she could already tell, he was the most precious thing she had ever seen. His little hands and feet wiggled uselessly as the doctor pulled him away to clean him up. He already had grown a small bit of brown hair, just like his father's. Emma automatically bit her tongue at the thought. There was no way she would see the father ever again, he doesn't even know. One-night stands are all she's ever had. There's no way in hell that she'd ever let anyone break down those walls she took so long to build up. After all those years in the foster-care system, she'd learn the hard way that people can take away everything from you. They can hurt you. But she's done with all that. Emma's done with waiting for someone to save her.

The doctor appeared in the doorway, smiling wide at her. In her arms was Emma's beautiful baby boy. He was wrapped in a warm-looking fleece blanket and the woman was cradling him slowly. She walked over to the bed and looked at Emma. "Do you want to see your son, Ms. Swan?" the doctor asked softly. Emma nodded her head, grinning. The woman gently handed her the newborn infant. Emma glanced down lovingly at him, that well-known butterfly feeling blossoming in her stomach. And just like that, the feeling was gone, replaced with a pang of regret as it hit her. What kind of life would this baby have? She couldn't manage him. She couldn't even manage herself. Emma could feel her heart tightening. There was only one way to take care of him, she would have to sign him up for adoption. She would have to give him his best chance. And that's when her heart broke. That's also when she wakes up in a cold sweat.

Ten years later, Emma's still alone. It's not a surprise, though. She'll never let anyone get close to her. So this is her life, always on the run. Moving from place to place just to assure she never gets attached to something. That night was just another night on the job. It was another lonely birthday. Emma placed the small cupcake on the table and lit the candle. She shrunk down and rested her chin on her crossed arms. She stared at the cupcake and whispered, "Another banner year." She could feel the candle's heat on her face. Finally, Emma squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel the longing in her heart. I wish... I wish for someone. Emma sighed and restrained the intense longing. If only... With one desperate breath, she blew out the candle. She stood there with her eyes closed, thinking. Then the doorbell rang. Emma eyes opened in surprise. She glanced down at the cupcake, her mouth slightly opened. She walked across the kitchen and opened the door.

Emma looked down at a young boy, a startled look on her face. "Can I... help you?" Emma asked. The boy just looked at her. Then he gave a small smile.

"Are you Emma Swan?" the boy asked, looking hopeful. Emma looked suspicious.

"Yeah... who are you?" Emma questioned. The boy's smile got a little bigger. He looked up at her and looked her right in the eye.

"My name's Henry. I'm your son," he stated. Emma was caught off guard.

Emma had always wanted to be loved. She needed it. Every once in a while, her heart began to ache, longing for affection. She could feel herself choke up, quickly brushing the tears from her eyes. Emma didn't know how to be happy. All she knew were those walls that she kept up to protect herself. She didn't let anything in, she didn't want to get hurt.

Emma had been in Storybrooke for several weeks now. She doesn't really know, time goes by so fast, it's all kind of distorted. She remembers when she first got here. Henry had looked so betrayed when she handed him over to the mayor, like a lost puppy. She remembered her first encounter with the mayor. As soon as Emma saw her, she felt some sort of special connection. Like... a spark. The mayor was extremely attractive. She had dark brown eyes and neck-length dark brown, almost black, hair. She wore a blood red shade of lipstick and heavy mascara that rimmed around her eyes.

The mayor was dressed in a gray blazer, a knee-length black skirt, dark leggings, and black heels. She reeked authority with each move she took. Emma found herself staring for more than an appropriate amount of time and shifted her eyes away. The only reason she snapped out of her observations was because of a warm feeling starting in the pit of her stomach. Emma put on a plastic smile and introduced herself.

And all that is what kept Emma up tonight. She was going over everything that lead up to her arrival in Storybrooke. She fought off the sudden desire to be embraced and struggled to fall asleep. She eventually did, but all she saw that night was flashes of the mayor. There was no escaping her feelings for the mayor, even when her eyes were closed shut.