Disclaimer: Obviously, no rights belong to me.
Author's Notes: This work contains major plot spoilers up to Season 2, and minor character spoilers up to Season 3. I'll be aiming for weekly updates which shouldn't be too onerous as half of the story is written, just in need of editing.
Please, don't forget to tip your bards. If you take the time to read, do us authors a solid and take the extra second to review. Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome.
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It was bone deep. A sudden, thrilling rush as magic sprung to life in her hands, righting what was most wrong with this mundane dimension. It was galling that the moment was tainted, facilitated by the unfortunate Charming offspring touching her arm to activate Jefferson's hat. The endless twirl of the hat refused to let Regina's eyes escape, nausea quickly overtaking joy at being reunited with her power. The howl of the Wraith brought her attention from herself back to the catastrophe of a situation Gold had created. The Wraith was breaking through the paltry fire wall that Snow and her insipid little husband had concocted.
The hat did its work just as the Wraith crossed the barrier, a portal opening to the cursed void Regina had worked so desperately to escape. Tile heaved and buckled as the very fabric of the dimension rended itself to shreds, tearing the flood asunder.
The portal was open, they just needed a way to lure the Wraith in. Regina turned to Snow, good always won after all, time for the princess to make herself useful. The hesitation in Snow's eyes told her all she needed, the woman was competing with herself. Debating the merits of holding to her 'good' nature and helping Regina or simply letting nature take its course. Her husband would be of no better use.
It was Emma Swan, her nemesis, her son's thief, the product of those she hated most, who finally acted, driving her shoulder into Regina as the Wraith struck. It threw them both off balance, the Wraith's shadowy figure thrashing wildly as the powerful tunnel sucked into the black.
It managed to get a claw into the Sheriff, her pained keen cutting through the windstorm as the Wraith's talons sank deep into her leg, pulling her across checkered floor into the vortex.
Regina's movements were instinct -borne from years of self preservation- as she dove off her knees, clasping a well manicured hand around the Sheriffs arm, grip tightening to keep the woman in place. The blonde was the key to unlocking magic in this mundane dimension, her only chance of survival.
Fingers, slick with sweat and panic, slid along the sleeve of that unseemly red jacket, Regina's grip on the woman loosening as the vortex swirled below, a funnel of churning magic that refused to give ground as denim clad legs kicked fruitlessly for traction.
"Are you twits good for anything?" Her frustrated snarl reached beyond the chaotic edges of the void to the two stunned dunces who seemed locked in place, staring stupidly as their daughter hovered over a pit of death. It was Charming -she could barely think the name without gagging, even after all these years- who acted first, throwing his weight across Regina's legs to stop her steady slide to the edge of the void. Snow was next, reaching out for her daughter's other arm as the woman swung below.
They didn't have much time. The portal was closing, if the woman wasn't retrieved wholesale they'd be better off letting her fall and land where she may.
The rush was further emphasized as the portal entrance began to shrink, pulling the lot of them further toward the centre of the town hall floor. There was no help for it now. Swan was going in.
Certain death awaited Emma on the other side, unarmed and ignorant of her homeland, presuming anything was even left of the Enchanted Forest. Regina wished she could enjoy the moment, it was a long time coming, but it wasn't something she could allow. Swan wouldn't have a chance on her own and Regina couldn't risk losing her, not with Henry out of her reach.
An act of selflessness, she couldn't manage. But an act of love, to regain her son, his love for her, that she could do. Nevermind that there would be no dealing with the Charmings if they deemed her the cause of Emma's loss. Regina surrendered to the stupidity of her decision, calling on her magic to form around her. Her grip of Swan allowed her to do it, energy crackling off the woman's body as though her veins were live wires, the current humming through even the barrier of her clothes.
Regina couldn't fight the vortex but she could at least make sure they weren't split in half when it closed. The burst of energy from Regina's free hand drove Snow off her daughter, a mother's cry falling from her lips as she recognized the inevitable loss, hatred burning dark in doe like eyes as she turned her gaze on Regina.
Charming wasn't as easy to remove, the energy bolt causing a grunt but little else from the man. Damn, stubborn goat herder, the vortex was closing and it would be a near enough miss as it was. She didn't have time to negotiate, instead Regina spoke, hoping to break through the unending barrier of stupidity he seemed cloaked in.
"Take care of Henry."
"Wh..."
Regina drove her elbow into his nose, a pedestrian, uncouth, peasant move that was undeniably satisfying as he not only released her but cried out as he rolled away. Her body's response was immediate, sliding over the edge and into the vortex, hand still clasped around the Saviour's arm as magic pulled them back to their homeland.
Regina tried not to make a habit of travelling through portals and this one in particular -whether because of destination or by design- was particularly unpleasant. Brutal winds lashed at too thin cloth as they fell, darkness overhead as the portal closed completely. Her grip on Emma loosened as the portal worked to tear them apart. That wouldn't do. If they were separated there was no telling where they might end up. With her luck, Regina would end up pitching the precious Saviour right into Ogre territory.
For once, she was grateful Emma's strength, the other woman muscling their bodies together, chest to chest, minimizing the space between them to reduce the inertia that threatened to tear them apart.
"Are we going to to able to land without cracking our skulls open?" Emma yelled, tucking her mouth tight to Regina's ear so she could be heard over the storm around them. The portal opened beneath them, grey clouds visible and somewhere, far below, the ground.
"I wouldn't bet on it," Regina yelled back, shaking her head as they were pitched from the vortex.
Regina could have hung herself as her mother's words rang in her ears, and damned if she hadn't known better.
No good deed goes unpunished.
888
The portal spit them out some forty feet above ground, her grip of Emma allowing Regina the courtesy of softening their fall with a spontaneously conjured mound of hay. It bled off the worst of it but was by no means a pleasant landing. Sharp shards of hay cut into her palms as she hit, the mound compacting beneath her body before her momentum threw her off the top. She rolled down the side, Emma tumbling next to her, an undignified grunt pulled from the former Queen's lips as she impacted the ground.
She let go the Saviours hand then, glad to be rid of the intimate touch, though she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the current of power that came with the contact. It was a slow road to her knees, her ribs protesting such unusual abuse. Even in her heyday, when assassination had tempts had been the rule rather than the exception, she hadn't been accustomed to many injuries. Magic and might had its privileges after all.
"That sucked."
A dark eyebrow, delicately but deliberately raised, indicated Regina's lack of amusement with the pun.
"Not one for joking the face of death?"
"On the contrary, dear," Regina rebutted, "I'm well acquainted with it. I simply not quite so ham handed about it."
"Right." Emma brushed the hay from her shoulders. "Anyway. Thanks, I guess? For saving us? I mean." Emma waved vaguely at the pile of hay before she struggled to her feet and offered Regina a hand. "It wasn't exactly smooth but any landing you can walk away from."
"Indeed."
"So, where are we?"
Regina turned, eyes raised to a suddenly gunmetal grey sky, unable to determine direction by the hidden sun. She cast her gaze to the mountains in the distance, allowing herself a brief moment of congratulations that she could easily identify their location. Even twenty eight years later.
"We're near my castle, shouldn't be more than half a day's walk."
"I thought..." the blonde paused, green eyes betraying their confusion, the woman evidently trying to work something out in her mind. Pity. Between her parents they'd only had half a brain to give her to start with. "Didn't you destroy this place? I thought the curse wiped it out."
"As did I. Evidently we were misinformed. Gold had his reasons, no doubt."
"Gold?"
"Gold," Regina paused and corrected herself, "Rumpelstiltskin created the curse, dear. I merely enacted it." Regina twitched her cuffs into place, briefly smoothing the front of her skirt. A half days walk would be hell in high heels but that's what she owed herself for letting fashion overtake function. She had grown too complacent, even in the face of the Charming's memory recovery. Soft, her mother would say. "Come along, we have miles to go before we sleep."
Seeming to recognize that Regina had the upper hand in the matter, Emma obediently followed along, hand never far from the pistol at her hip as she walked. She was observant, Regina couldn't deny that, keen eyes missed nothing, blonde locks swishing from side to side as the Saviour took in every noise, every movement.
Regina was surprised there was any movement to be hand. The fields had gone fallow, long left unattended, even in the days before the curse had come to pass. Gray soil, cracked and dry gave birth to weak fields of wild grass, yellow and brittle and patchy. The forest past the fields was no different, trees divested off all but the greyest of leaves, hanging tenaciously to dry trees. The ground crunched and crackled beneath them, the heavy boots of the saviour crushing a generation of leaves to dust beneath her feet.
It was the smell that hit Regina first, long forgotten but instantly familiar as it invaded her nostrils, permeating the air with a sickly stench that Emma immediately wrinkled her nose at. Next was the noise, lumbering steps, far too loud for human feet.
"What the hell is that sm..?"
Regina clamped a hand over the Saviour's mouth, dragging her to the ground without so much as a 'how do you do'. Green eyes, instantly furious at the rough treatment, glared at Regina who gestured her chin toward the source of her consternation. Emma titled her head slowly, Regina's hand still clamped firmly over her mouth in case the woman gave in to the childish urge to scream.
It wasn't a scream but a disbelieving and harsh whisper that met Regina's ears as Emma pried her hand loose. "You've got to be shitting me!"
"Sssh!" Honestly, had the foolish woman read none of those irritating little tales in Henry's book? Ogres weren't beings to be trifled with, least of all by unarmed women in the middle of the damned Dark Forest. They had been lucky to be downwind of him, the twenty foot tall behemoth lumbering like a log, knocking down hundred year old trees as though they were toothpicks as he made his way.
Regina couldn't trust her magic was intact given all of the curse and she wasn't about to test herself out on a full grown ogre. Their best bet was to sit quietly until he passed. She felt more than saw the Sheriff's hand slide toward her pistol, and gave a small shake of her head. A gun wasn't going to do anything save call attention to themselves with the noise it made. She had seen ogres take cannonballs to the gut without much more than a stutter.
Reaching out, Regina pressed a hand over Emma's to still the agitated woman's movement, just the click of sliding the safety off could alert the ogre to their presence. Her eyes found Emma's, hoping her calm would pass to her companion, so long as they remained still, they were fine. Emma pursed her lips, giving a brief nod before a tanned hand slid from the holster on her hip, wordless acceptance that they would play it Regina's way.
It worked as she hoped, the ogre moving out of sight without incident. She waited until the snap of trees echoed in the distance before pushing herself up.
"Was that actually... I mean...ogres are real?"
"You slew a dragon no more than a week ago and you're honestly surprised about ogres?" Regina began walking without waiting for answer, obviously the Sheriff had inherited the sense of her parents. She led them on to her castle, the moon peeking over the edges of the mountains as they arrived at the village that once populated the base of her castle.
Emma's eyes widened as she took it all in, the crumbling homes nestled against the massive castle that rose as if from hell itself. The citadels towered high against the backdrop of dark mountains whose snowy peaks were cloaked by charcoal tinted clouds.
Regina sucked in a deep a breath, the crisp air filling her lungs.
Home sweet home.
"Wow." It was all the Saviour uttered as they ascended the winding road that led from the village proper to Regina's castle. The village had been evacuated, long before Regina had been banished to its confines. A plague had ripped through its populace, the deserted Dark Kingdom deemed a fitting place for the end of Regina's days.
The castle wasn't much, the former ruler more barbarian than king, and was far outshone by the opulence of the White Kingdom castle. There was no moat to speak off, the small tunnels having run dry, the large horse doors that loomed at the entrance capable of keeping out peasants with pickaxes but not a true armed force. It had offered Regina enough protection to be safe in her home without allowing her the arrogance of assuming it was impregnable should she step out of line.
As irritating as Snow was, Regina couldn't deny that the pale princess had gained a worldly intelligence on military matters over the years. Had Snow not been so saddled with her insipid ideas of 'good', she would have done the right thing and killed Regina long ago. Simpering little weakling.
They walked along the crushed stone path that led them to the castle itself, Emma's eyes constantly shifting as she took in the somewhat derelict monolith. Servants weren't a luxury Regina had been afforded and her time and efforts had been better concentrated on vengeance, not housekeeping.
Regina waved off the warding spell that held her castle secure, even in the face of the curse. There was no need for grandstanding so she left the ornate horse gates unopened, slipping easily through the servants doors off to the side.
The courtyard was intensely quiet, only her companion's laboured breathing breaking the stillness that surrounded them. It hadn't been that long of a walk up.
"I'd hate to think our Sheriff is out of shape."
"Hey, it's been a long day. What are we even doing here?" Swan asked, following Regina as she walked across the cobblestone courtyard toward the main hall.
"It's much safer in here than out there, Sheriff, I assure you. We'll need somewhere to rest while we plan our next move."
"Our next move is getting the hell back to Storybrooke."
Regina fought -rather valiantly she thought- to contain the sigh that seemed determined to be let loose. "Yes, dear, I'm aware of that. I meant plan our way of getting home." Regina revealed, her voice level enough that she rewarded herself with a mental pat on the back. She walked along the red carpet that led to her defunct throne, passing it with a brief touch to scarred wood.
"Oh. So, no grand schemes to take over the Enchanted Kingdom while we're on layover?"
"Hardly," Regina let out with a scoff as they walked the dark halls of her castle. "What's the use of ruling over scorched earth? All I want is to get back to my son." She looked out through the tall, narrow window, wishing to see her mansion, the clock, hell, even the cockroach hotel that was Granny's diner. Anything other than the endless shadows of a decimated kingdom.
While this had once been her home, it was no longer. Her heart belonged with her son now, he was her home and she would burn down what was left of this kingdom if it meant getting back to him.
"Our son."
It felt like so long since Emma had spoken that Regina didn't register the words. "What?"
"Our son, Regina."
Regina bristled at the tone, fury with the arrogant interloper warring with her fury at herself for saving the spawn of her nemesis. One moment of soft hearted do gooding for Henry's sake and now she was doomed to pay for it forever.
"We'll see, Miss Swan." Was all the words Regina allowed herself to spare, anything more would have been littered with the uncouth cursing of peasantry. The darkness of the halls grew as they walked, windows fewer and further between as they approached Regina's old chambers, her predecessors idea of security measures.
An assured snap of lean fingers proved fruitless, the unlit wall torches the uncaring targets of Regina's magical attempt. She concentrated more fully, it had been long years since needing to access magic so easily, evidently she was rusty. Another snap yielded still nothing, the torches flickering briefly as if to mock her before darkening once more.
"Are you testing for an echo or..?"
Peasants, indeed even royals, had literally wet their pants in consequence of Regina's glare which she turned on the Saviour who at least had the grace to seem contrite at the interruption. Tamping down on her pique, Regina turned back to the torches, it wouldn't do for her to lose control of her emotions as she was attempting magic. With her luck she would end up turning one or both of them into kindling.
Her third attempt proved no more successful, the torches didn't even afford her the satisfaction of sputtering.
Ridiculous.
The most powerful sorceress in the known kingdoms and she couldn't call upon the most simple of elemental spells. A hand found her wrist, startling Regina from her moment of self flagellation.
"You know, I've got a lighter in pocket, it's not a big deal."
Regina sneered at that, did the woman truly not understand the ramifications? She had bet on her powers to get them home, to get her home. To Henry. Had she known she would be stripped of her most ready weapon, she wouldn't have followed the infuriating woman into this damned kingdom to begin with.
"Regina, come on, let's get some rest. You probably just need to recharge your battery or something." Emma's grip on her wrist tightened, the Sheriff attempting to pull Regina along, as if she were some horse to be led to stable. The assumption, the unmitigated gall of the peasant princess forced Regina's temper to flare of its own accord.
"Unhand me, Miss Swan!" The flair of her temper coincided with the flare of the torches, lighting themselves so violently that those closest to Regina spewed shards of flaming wood across the dark hallway.
"What the shit?!" Emma stepped back, releasing Regina's hand as a fiery mass landed at her feet.
Regina turned from the lit torches to her companion and back again, dark eyes narrowing to near slits as realization poked at the remnants of denial. She grabbed the Saviour by the arm, turning back to the torches with a cut of her hand to to leave them in darkness once more. A snap of her fingers and the torches lit, one by one, with each successive snap.
When the torches were lit as far as her chamber, Regina released her hold on her companion, long years of reigning in her temper all that kept her from throwing an all out tantrum. Fate had a sense of humour that it insisted on directing at her. It wasn't content to bring the tempestuous Sheriff into her world simply to tear it down. Nor to isolate them in a derelict kingdom together. No, now her powers were somehow linked to the woman at her side.
Ridiculous.
"What in the hell was that about?"
"It seems, unfortunately, that my 'battery' is you, Miss Swan. Whatever the consequences of the curse, it's hampered my powers quite extensively."
"But, why me?"
"I'm certain it has something to do with your being True Love's product." Regina didn't bother to hide the disgust in her voice at such revelation. All her training, all her work and love had trumped her. If only her mother could see her now.
"Right." Emma laughed off the explanation, amused chuckle dying in her throat as Regina made no move to take the words back. "You're serious."
"Pathetic as it is, yes, dear, I'm serious. Now, if you'll excuse me," Regina pulled a torch from the wall. "I need to rest before we attempt to get back."
"Sleep does sound like a good idea," Emma agreed, moving as if to follow Regina in. She placed a hand on the Saviour's chest to halt her, briefly embarrassed by her position. "What? Am I supposed to sleep out here in the hall?"
Regina briefly debated with telling her that's where dogs were meant to sleep before her sense of decorum, drummed into her since birth, came to the fore. Besides, she might need the Saviour's power again and drawing from her would be considerably easier if they were on reasonable terms. "There are guest quarters there," Regina motioned to the doorway past hers, just beyond the reaches of the torch light.
Regina pulled the torch from her doorway, handing it to the woman. "Do try to stay out of trouble." She closed the door, blocking out the disgruntled protest she heard the woman gearing up for.
It was...odd, being in her old chambers. There was no other way to describe it. Last she had looked on this place, it had been as a prisoner, a defeated warrior. A soul wounded so deeply that she had gone to lengths that she now shuddered about, to reclaim some semblance of control. She had willingly taken the life of the last person who loved her to have vengeance.
To win.
Or at, least, not to lose. For once.
It had made sense at the time, Regina had felt the need for the curse as a burning, deep in the pit of her soul.
Looking back on it now, with nearly three decades between her and her old self, she knew Maleficent had been right. The Curse had carved a hole in her soul, creating an endless darkness. It had only been Henry who had begun to push at the darkness with light, his tiny soul filling her with purpose beyond herself. A reason to continue walking the unchanging landscape she had created as prison for Snow White and her followers.
Now, as she looked around the room, large bed covered in thick silk sheets and heavy fur cloaks, the unlit and mawing fireplace, the wide balcony that gave full view to the desolation outside these walls, Regina didn't feel a loser. She felt a prisoner, trapped by the choices she had made. Attempts to win that had only damned her further, giving her the semblance of happiness in her son, only to have it ripped away by the child of a woman she despised.
Regina shook her head, such maudlin thoughts weren't of any use and her mother had whipped her for far less flashes of self pity. She had a son to return to and mother to return to him. The rest of the town could burn for all she cared but she would return Emma Swan to Henry. She would atone to him for the crimes she had caused, she would earn back his love because it was all she had to hope for before the Charming's took their revenge.
She could deal with her inevitable end but Regina Mills refused to die a villain in her son's eyes.
Morning came swift and sure on the wings of a biting wind that cut across desolate planes and whipped Regina's curtains into a fury. She held tightly to the heavy furs, unaccustomed to being at the mercy of the elements. She took it in stride, wrapping a fur around her shoulders as she slid from the bed, cool stone like ice against her feet. Her heels lay discarded beside the bed, never to be worn in this land again, given the size of the blisters that cut her feet.
Most of her clothing from her reign was still tucked into the vast closet behind ornate carved doors. Something in there would be suitable enough to wear around the keep, certainly more suitable than the raw silk body sheath and stifling skirt set.
Regina moved to the closet, immediately discarding the more opulent dresses that she had favoured in the later days of her reign. It had taken no little magic just to move competently in the impressive, threatening and completely impractical outfits. Regina went to the back of her closet, to the remnants of her wardrobe during her earliest years as Queen, when Snow was still a fresh faced child and Regina no more than a wounded woman searching for a way out.
Brown leather pants were smooth and supple in her hands as she pulled them down, congratulating herself on her discipline that they slid over her legs as easily as they had nearly forty years ago. A cotton tunic -rough and the colour of creamed butter- was next, the shirt ties left undone as had been her preference during her brief stint as a rogue. A brown leather vest wrangled her breasts into some form of control, Regina not regretting her sudden freedom from the confines of a proper bra. She cinched the ties of the vest to hold rather ample endowments in place and clipped her belt over her hips, drawing her swords and dagger from her trunk to rest at her sides.
There was no telling what trouble might await them and without her magic, Regina wasn't about to be caught unarmed. In her earliest days, when magic had been her enemy, Regina had relied on her own skills for safety and those skills hadn't been ones she had allowed to degrade.
Her hair was too short for her traditional braid so she settled for leaving it loose, a little unhappy with its unkempt and wild appearance after a day trudging in the wind and a night tossing and turning. Nevertheless, the outfit was far more practical for this land than her previous outfit and she tugged her boots onto her feet, revelling in the feel of soft leather. They were like second skin as she laced them, tucking the left over lace into the tops of her boots that ended just bellow her knees.
Satisfied she was prepared for the day, she went in search of the Saviour.
Despite it being her castle, Regina allowed the Sheriff the dignity of a brief knock before she threw open the doors to the guest chambers. Nothing save a muted snore and a pile of golden hair beneath a mound of pillows attested that anyone occupied the spacious quarters.
It would figure the sheriff was an early morning layabout. While she would have normally left the lazy woman to her own devices, she was loath to let the Saviour out of her sight for long. There was no telling what might lie around the castle. They hadn't done a thorough inspection after all, and she wasn't about to get accosted without access to magic.
The guest room was somewhat chillier than the main quarters, as they faced toward the valley of the mountains where the wind whipped icy currents toward the castle. The torch from last night lay discarded at the foot of the bed, obviously left to burn out on the cold stone floor. Rolling her eyes at the mess of ash, Regina stepped over the spent torch and toward the bed.
The basest part of her egged her on to wake the Saviour with something abrupt, a loud noise or perhaps some water from the basin in the corner. Knowing from early morning town meetings that a sleepless Swan was a cranky Swan, she opted for a gentler poke at the mound of furs. The first two pokes produced nothing more than a grunt before Emma turned over. Regina gave a more insistent shove
that had the pile of fur producing a sound that resembled something human.
"Sheriff Swan, as sleep deprived as you may be, I'd like to get back to my son sometime this century."
A vague mumble forced Regina to lean over, unkempt hair falling past her shoulders to graze the pile of fur. "What?" Regina jumped back at the abrupt turn of the covers that produced an obviously unhappy Saviour.
"I said 'our son'."
Regina waved off the typical argument without giving voice to her objection, long strides eating the distance between bed and closet to find her companion something more appropriate to wear than jeans and her horrendous jacket.
"Don't you sleep, like, ever? It's been four hours, Regina." Emma held up her wrist, as if the watch on her hand were shining proof of her statement. Frankly, Regina, was surprised the Sheriff understood the concept of time at all, considering her tardiness that bordered on chronic.
"Stop your grumbling and I'll conjure us something decent for breakfast."
"And if I don't?" Emma asked, her tone hovering around petulant.
"Then I'll hunt for breakfast and you can go hungry."
Two rebellious green eyes poked over the ludicrously lagre pile of furs, Emma evidently gauging how much spite Regina actually had in her.
"I cursed an entire kingdom to get back at your mother, Sheriff. Testing my will isn't likely something you'll find breeds positive results."
A grudging moan and two bare feet hit the stone floor, a baleful stare levelled at Regina which she ignored as she dug through the closet for something appropriate to wear. Maleficient had been the last guest in these quarters and she was close enough for the Sheriff to match. Most of what Maleficient kept in the quarters were reasonable outfits, her favoured capes and cloaks exchanged for clothes more comfortable to work rigorous magic in.
She pulled out an outfit and tossed it on to the bed. It was nothing fancy, a pair of leather pants, black of course, and a heavy cotton shirt that felt more like a field hands cloth than a queens, again in black. Maleficient had never been one to diversify her colour choices. Emma's footwear was suitable enough to keep, and a simple light cloak to ward off the cool bite of the castle air would see the woman properly dressed.
"Put these on, I'll wait for you in my chambers."
"I can pick out my own clothes, Mom." The tone was so undeniably Henry that Regina had to force back her instinctual response to simply do as she asked.
"Fine, freeze to death, whatever suits you, Sheriff." Regina left the clothes in their heap at the foot of the bed, somewhat chagrined that her simple act of consideration had been sarcastically rebuffed. The Saviour hadn't lived in these lands and she would realize soon enough what wouldn't work. To coin a term that Kathryn favoured, the Sheriff 'didn't know shit'.
Emma, seeming to sense Regina had taken offence, looked contrite. She slid out of bed, grabbing at the clothing. "So, what's our plan?" Emma asked picking up the pants and eyeing them suspiciously before tugging them over lean legs. "I assume you have a plan since you got me up at the cracked ass of dawn."
"Indeed I do." Regina acknowledged, dreading the words she spoke next. "We're going to see my mother."
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David turned to Mary Margaret, Snow, he corrected, his heart breaking at the abject sorrow that shone in his wife's eyes. They had lost Emma, again. And now, there was no prophecy to guide them, no promise that in due course their daughter -now a grown woman- would return to them and make their family whole once more.
There was nothing left to speak of Emma at all, except the scorched tile that showed were the portal had once been. And their guilt. It sat in the pit of his stomach, leaden and churning. They had failed, yet again, to protect their daughter.
"We have to get her back, we have to open the portal," Snow said as she pushed herself to her feet, dark eyes darting from him to the closed portal to the walls of the town hall, as if they would present her with answers.
"David, we have to get her back!" Hysteria crept into her voice and he pushed himself to his feet, tugging her tight against his chest, her heart rending sobs threatening to bring him to tears as well. But he couldn't cry, couldn't break. His daughter was out there, somewhere, with only their nemesis as her ally. Crying could come later, for now, he had to bring Emma home.
"There's nothing we can do right now, we need magic and neither of us have it."
"Gold." Snow didn't so much as hesitate in naming Rumpelstiltskin, her determination evident as she pushed himself out of his arms, lip steadying as her jaw squared. This was her, his Snow, not the shadow of herself that Mary Margaret was, this was his warrior woman, and she was ready to do battle.
"First we have to get to Henry, he deserves to know what happened and he needs to know we're going to get Emma back."
Snow nodded, following him as he took the lead, aimed for the Granny's Diner. Ruby had Henry occupied at the counter, rather, he pelted her with never ending questions about the Enchanted Forest as she served her patrons.
"Henry, come here son." It hurt his heart the way the boy's face lit up at seeing him. Henry had known all along, his dogged belief had set him on the path for Emma, saving them all. Henry's genuine joy was what David had hoped to see in Emma's face when she recognized who they were. That they had loved her all these years, and only tried to do right by risking her in the wardrobe.
It wasn't to be.
David had come to accept that Emma's love would have to be earned, not given. And the first way to do that was to take care of her son, to protect him as he had been unable to protect his daughter. He wouldn't fail her again.
"Where are my moms?" Henry looked up at them both, and David clapped a hand over his small shoulder, his other clasping around Snow's shaking hand. "They're not dead are they?" It was such a earnest question, from the lips of a child who was at once an adult and yet still young in many ways.
"No!" Was Snow's vehement response, her other hand clasping Henry's shoulder, a mirror of David's position. "But they are lost, they were pulled into a portal, back to the Enchanted Forest."
Henry turned to him, more trust in his eyes than David felt he deserved in that moment. "But you're going to find them, right? You're going to bring them home."
Charming didn't much care one way or the other if Regina made it back, she may have given sacrifice by going in after Emma but that didn't mitigate all the pain she had caused. Nor the fact that they wouldn't have been in this position if it wasn't for all the mayhem she had engineered.
Still, as many mistakes as Regina had made, Henry wasn't one of them. It would break the boy's heart to lose her. David had broken enough of his family's heart these last few weeks.
"Henry, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I will move the heavens themselves to get your mothers back here. Regina and I have had our differences, but she's family," he grudgingly admitted. "It makes her one of us now, and we always find each other."
The boy stood there belief written in his stance and the prince knew, deep in in his soul, that with such belief buoying him, he could not fail.