She was pulled away from Henry's bedside unceremoniously. Dr. Whale was pressing her with questions, not listening to her when she told him it was the damned turnover. She viciously grabbed Henry's backpack, shaking it as if it were to blame.

"This isn't a poisoning…It's like…" He didn't finish his thought, turning away from her.

Back to Henry.

A candy bar, walkie talkie, a few action figures, textbooks and a notebook spilled out before her. And the book. That damned book. Emma looked at it as if she'd never truly seen it before. "It's like magic." She finishes for the Doctor. Grasping the book, electricity shoots through her. Images, they can't be memories, flash rapidly through her mind. Mary Margaret and David crying over a baby. David wounded placing the baby in a wardrobe. No, that wasn't right, not Mary Margaret, not David. Henry's words reverberate. "Everything that happened in this book is true. You should know better than anyone, because you're in this book."

"My Son!" Regina's panicked cry abruptly returns her to the present. But everything is different now. Her eyes narrow. She drops the book, "You did this." She hisses, before grabbing Regina and dragging her into a supply closet. "YOU DID THIS!" She's yelling now, losing control.

"What? What are you…" Regina's confusion and fear seems real, but it changes nothing.

"Henry ate that turnover."

"It was meant for you!" Regina admits stupidly. Off her game, not a good sign.

"It's true isn't it? The book, the curse, it's all true." Emma demands, never expecting acknowledgement, even though she knows now, as surely as she knows how to breathe, that she is right.

"Yes."

"Fix him!" It's meant to be a demand, but in reality she's begging the Evil Queen.

"I can't!" Is the anguished and unexpected reply.

Emma's eyes grow wide, suddenly her anger is replaced with overwhelming fear. "You don't have Magic?"

"Emma?" Mary Margaret interrupts. "What's going on, what happened to Henry?"

A thousand years ago, when her son collapsed, she had dialed 911 on the landline. With her other hand she'd hit speed-dial 1, her roommate, her best friend. When her voicemail picked up, the old Emma blathered out something about Henry, apples, Regina and how she was so, so scared and could Mary please, please come, because she needed…needed her.

Emma can't afford to think too much, her son's life and her own sanity are at stake here. Coherent thought has left her.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret repeats. "Mayor?"

"Henry's ill Ms. Blanchard." Regina manages. "If you'll excuse us, we were having a private conversation."

"I'm, I'm sorry, but I'm here for Emma, and I'm not going anywhere until I know she's okay." Her mother answers.

No, no, there isn't time for this. There isn't time. "Ma..Mary. Henry's really sick, can you, can you stay with him?"

"Me?"

"Her?" Regina and Mary Margaret say together, both clearly confused.

"We…Regina and I have to go. We'll be back soon, but I…I don't want him to be alone, I don't ever want him to be alone again. Please?" Emma chokes out.

It's impossible to say what's more confusing about this request. The fact that Regina isn't objecting loudly, or the fact that either woman would be willing to leave the boy they love in this condition. "Of course, Emma, anything you need."

And Emma starts to cry again. "Thank you." She whispers. Mary Margaret smiles awkwardly, moving forward, no doubt to give her friend a reassuring hug. Emma pulls back. It's a risk she can't take. Dissolving into her mother's arms will not help anything. Hurt flashes in Mary Margaret's eyes…but she understands, Emma's never been one for affection, and they haven't been getting along so well of late. She offers a weak smile and a nod to the oddly quiet Mayor.

"Hurry back. He needs you. Both of you." She offers charitably, thinking perhaps a truce is in the air and really that's probably best for Henry.

The silence when she departs is painful. Emma slaps away her tears and turns with a renewed hate to Regina. "What do we do now?"