It's over. I'm dead.
Those are the first thoughts to cross your mind as you see the curse break around you, watch everyone get their memory back just because the saviour kissed your sons head.
True love.
There's a pain in your chest and someone's telling you to run, you don't know who. You only know one thing.
They're going to kill you. And you've lost Henry.
And you're honestly not sure which of the two of those scares you more.
You stumble forward slowly, forcing your legs to work as you cup Henry's face.
"I love you. Don't let anyone tell you different." You say, your voice managing not to break. Henry just nods, he doesn't say it back and that hurts too.
Then you take the advice given to you. You do run. You've never ran from anything before, not really. But here you are, the once great Queen running through the back streets of what was your town to get back to your home and safe. For now at least.
You lock and bolt both the front and back doors before slowly, your legs hurt now, making your way up the stairs and collapsing on Henry's bed.
You reach under his bed, your fingers grasping his memory box as you go through it slowly.
The day you got him, so sweet. He had his eyes open as Gold put him in your arms. He had been crying, until your arms encircled him and he was instantly silent, blinking up at you trustingly.
His first steps, you'd cried tears of pride as he wobbled his way towards you unsteadily. He'd laughed as you smothered his face in kisses before kissing you back.
His first word, 'Mommy'. You'd cried again but he just kept repeating it over and over, so proud of his new ability.
First day of school, school dances, trips to the lake, days together, face painting, baking, building the treehouse in the back garden.
All of these things were chronicled here, all his love was in this box.
There was none of it left in him. Not for you at least. He saw you the same way everyone else did now.
Evil.
Were you evil? You pondered this as you carefully re-packed the box, taking some of his note-paper to scribble something, in case he comes back.
You doubt he will, doubt he'd want to, but you need to make sure.
Your tears, when had you started crying?, marked the page as you wrote slowly and deliberately.
You needed to be clear.
You rested the note atop the box, which sat on his bed along with his teddy bear. You stood then, casting a glance round his room and choking back a sob before leaving, making sure the door was slightly ajar. Henry hated having his door shut, you remembered that. He'd cry for you if you shut his door, especially at night. Not anymore though.
You still left the door ajar.
You made your way to your room next. So cold, compared to Henry's. So empty. The only personal thing was the photo next to your bed.
It was a halloween picture, you'd dressed as Morticia Adamms and Henry, at his own insistance, dressed as you. When you'd asked him why, he said 'Everyone in this town is kinda afraid of you. So this'll be the best costume ever!' and you'd laughed. He'd hugged you, his arms round your waist and his face blinking up at you as he told you 'I'm not afraid of you though. I love you Mom.'
Fresh tears were spilling now as you stood, just staring at the picture. You looked so happy, you noted, your head resting atop Henry's wig, the two of you laughing as he tried to hide your face with a lollipop, which was simply hitting your nose.
You force yourself to turn away, gathering things slowly. You know what happens when you cross the town line. That was your plan, before anyone came for you. You'd leave.
As you pack, the skin on the back of your arm raises and your heart tugs at you. The magic is back.
A voice in your head is demanding you stay, take Henry by force! He was yours rightfully, but you told that voice no. You weren't that person any more.
It was time to go.
You cast one last glance to the picture, wanting to bring it with you. You know you can't though. Anything like that would compromise you. Make you want to come back. No, no you had to leave now.
You write yourself a letter to before sneaking out the back door, worrying your lip between your teeth as you clamber into your car and whiz off down the road.
You manage to make it to the town line and you pause, the engine idling as you think through the decision the final time. With a heavy heart, you press down on the gas pedal and propel yourself forward.
What in the hell...?
You blink slowly and frown, what were you doing here? There's a note on the seat next to you, that should be the first clue.
Slowly, you open it, unfolding it and raising an eyebrow as you recognise your own handwriting, only rushed slightly. And the paper was kinda wet.
'Regina.
You can't stay in Storybrooke anymore. I know you're confused, trust me things won't get any clearer, but you need to leave.
Go to New York or Los Angeles. Somewhere big, where no-one will find you.
Start. Again.
Regina'
That was it. No explanation. You let out a groan of frustration before deciding, if you'd written the letter, which it was pretty obvious you had, you should listen to it. So down your foot goes and you take off.