AN: This story is set six-ish months after they return from the underworld, but I did accidentally sort of forget that Zelena is a thing until like half way through, and I didn't want to go back and write her in. (All I've seen of season 5b is gifsets and rants on tumblr, so apologies for any inaccuracies.) Hook is in it (sry) but the CS stuff is unhappy and doesn't last. Robin tragically perished on the way out of the underworld. (sry) This is my first foray into writing for this fandom, so think of this as me dipping my toe in the Swan Queen pool. We'll see if I fall in or get my foot bitten off. Unbeta'd.

i. Henry

It didn't rain the day they buried Regina Mills. The sun shone down on them as they gathered at the crypt in the graveyard, cheerful in its perversity, as if Henry wasn't slowly being consumed by the aching void in his chest where his mother used to be. The sun shone and the birds sang and the world went on without her, like the universe itself was celebrating the death of the Evil Queen. Henry thought that was unfair; someone should've told the universe that the Evil Queen died long ago. That Regina had died protecting a man she'd claimed to loathe was proof of that.

Henry glanced over at the man in question. He was hovering on Emma's other side, eyes distant as he stared up at the imposing stone building with a haunted expression. His hand was tangled with Emma's, but there was something mechanical about the gesture, as if they were both only doing it out of habit rather than any real desire to be close. His hook glinted in the sunlight as he tapped it against his leg in an anxious gesture, and every now and then, he'd glance around, as if looking for something. Which, Henry supposed, was not unreasonable given that a demon from the underworld had almost killed him a week ago.

Movement in the corner of his eye drew Henry's gaze back to the proceedings as Snow made her way to the front of the gathering and turned to face them, framed by the stone columns of the crypt. The crypt had been Emma's doing. Snow had mentioned that it would've been nice if they could lay Regina next to her father, and Emma's expression had shifted to something Henry couldn't describe before she'd vanished in a puff of pale golden smoke. She'd reappeared a few hours later, looking haggard, and when Henry had ventured into the graveyard he'd found the stone building magically expanded, with a second sarcophagus next to the one that housed Henry Mills Snr. It was empty, of course; they'd never actually found Regina's body, or the body of the hellbeast she'd taken with her, but the writer in Henry appreciated the symbolism.

The door was open behind his grandmother, and Henry found his gaze drawn to the single candle that burned atop his mother's casket. The flame was the same colour as the fire that had coated the creature from the underworld, and Henry found himself drawn unwillingly back to the memory of that day.

…

It began, as things in Storybrooke tended to, with Grumpy tearing down the street proclaiming doom at the top of his lungs. "Demon dog!" he screamed as he burst into Granny's, prompting a wave of panic in the citizens and an exasperated sigh from Regina. Henry had dragged her and Emma there after school under the guise of needing help with a family history assignment, but really he was just celebrating the fact that his mother was actually accepting invitations again. She'd been in a sort of seclusion since Robin's sacrifice and their return from the underworld, but the steady and unwavering support from her family was dragging her out of her self-imposed exile.

"Demon dog. Of course there is," Regina griped as she stood, moving towards the door with Emma close behind her. "Where, dwarf?"

"Sneezy says it was heading for the docks," Grumpy replied, and Emma's face went pale.

"Hook," she whispered, before vanishing in a swirl of smoke.

"Emma, wait!" Regina called, but the blonde was gone. She muttered something under her breath then turned to Henry. "Henry dear, call your grandparents." She pulled a face, then added, "All of your grandparents," and it took Henry a moment to realise she meant Rumplestiltskin. "Then get somewhere safe."

"But—" Henry began, but his mother cut him off.

"Henry, I have to catch up with your mother before she does something stupid. Please, just do as I ask."

"Okay," he relented, and Regina smiled. She touched one hand to his hair, then vanished in a puff of purple smoke. Henry waited five seconds, then slipped out the door, pulling out his phone as he went. He called the Charmings, then Belle – because Rumplestiltskin had refused to use a cell phone since they'd returned from the underworld – then he set out at a fast jog, heading towards the docks. His mom had told him to go somewhere safe, and where would be safer than close to the three most magically powerful people in Storybrooke?

Running was so much slower than magic, meaning he arrived at the docks as night was falling and the battle was ending, just in time to see Regina shift back in a blur of purple, dodging the swipe of a creature that definitely looked like a resident of hell. The beast was huge, easily twice the size of the massive horses the knights of Camelot had ridden, and it looked like a cross between a dog and a gorilla, though instead of fur, it was covered in something resembling smouldering coals, like the dying remains of a campfire. The hellbeast roared in defiance as it missed its target, and turned its fiery eyes to Hook, who was doubled over in pain, clutching a wound on his stomach. It started towards him with a snarl, but then there was another flash of magic and Emma appeared between them. Henry wasn't close enough to hear what she shouted, but he got the gist when she surged forward, lurching to her knees as she thrust a massive burst of magic towards the creature. Regina shouted something, but it was lost in the savage roar the beast let out as the saviour's magic hit it, picking it up and throwing it out over the end of the pier and into the water of the bay. It let out an ear-splitting shriek as it hit the water, then there was a loud detonation and the beast vanished in a flash of fire.

The singular frozen moment that followed was one Henry could recall with almost perfect clarity, and he knew with a certainty he couldn't explain that if he ever Wrote about this battle, this was the image that would appear in the Book. Rumplestiltskin, standing backlit by the flames of a burning warehouse, face alight with a manic, impish grin; Hook, gripping a scorched and bloodied sword in his hand and curling his other arm over the bleeding claw marks on his stomach. And between them were his mothers. Emma, on her knees and trembling with exertion, looking up at the woman beside her with wide eyes; Regina, next to her, her stance protective and her hand under Emma's elbow, supporting her to stand. The reflection of the flames in the water made them glow with an ethereal light and for a moment, Henry caught a flash of enough raw emotion between them that he felt heat rise in his cheeks. He looked away, feeling bizarrely like he was intruding on a private moment, moving his gaze instead to where Rumple was beginning to pull water from the bay to douse the flames.

The moment was broken when something exploded somewhere inside the burning warehouse, making all of them flinch. Emma had been halfway to her feet and stumbled against Regina, who caught her with a surprised grunt. Hook moved to stand beside them and reached out a hand to steady Emma, but she shook them both off and took a step back, turning to Gold as the last of the flames died away.

"Did we kill it?" Emma voice was hoarse, as if she'd been shouting for hours, but she was a little steadier on her feet.

Rumple shook his head. "It knew it was outmatched and fled. It'll be back."

"What was it?" Hook asked, sheathing his sword.

"I'm not sure. I have to check something," the Dark One replied, then vanished, leaving Emma frowning at the space where he'd been and Regina rolling her eyes.

After a trip to his shop and a consultation with Belle, Rumple identified the beast as one of the Arae, a cursed being sent by Hades to drag those who had escaped back to the underworld. He claimed that as one Twice Returned, he was safe from the beast's grasp, as was Regina, who'd won safe passage home through the sacrifice of her soulmate. Henry, he was unsure about, saying that the Author usually travelled under different rules, but the fact that he'd done more than simply observe may have negated that protection. The rest of them were fair game, particularly Hook, who'd been in the underworld legitimately until the hero's interference. The beast would try to target them all at once, but failing that, would go for Hook first.

A plan was made. Snow and Charming gathered their people, staying apart but making sure their people were protected while Emma, Regina and Hook went to confront the beast. Only Emma and Hook came back, and they both refused to talk about what happened, even to each other. As far as the townsfolk were concerned, they were the only two people who knew exactly what had transpired. The townsfolk were wrong.

Henry remembered it. He hadn't told anyone that, had lied when Emma had asked him if he'd seen. There was a trick the Apprentice had taught him, a little bit of magic that came with being the Author. "An Author who cannot watch writes poor stories," he'd said, and shown Henry how he could free his mind from his body and watch events unfold from a safer distance. He still had to be close, and it didn't always work, but Henry had been determined this time.

He remembered the three of them, Mom, Ma, and Hook, striding together towards the hellbeast that had followed them back from the underworld. He remembered Emma, minutes later, arcing through the air before slamming into a brick wall and sliding to the ground. He remembered Hook, trapped beneath debris and struggling to free himself as the beast bore down on him. But most clearly, he remembered his mother, indecisions written across her face as she stood midway between where Emma lay and where Hook struggled.

From his vantage point, he couldn't see her face as she gazed at Emma, but it was after one final look towards his ma that she turned to stalk towards the beast as it hovered over Hook, her expression hardened into one of terrible purpose. Regina's hands glowed with magic as she moved, but the beast paid no attention to her until she released the stored power with a gesture and an invisible force slammed into the demon, throwing it a hundred yards down the road where it landed heavily before staggering back to its feet. The blow hadn't wounded it, and it came charging back towards them with a scream of anger.

Henry's heart was in his throat as it bore down on them once again, but his mother barely reacted. She faced it squarely, and it was nearly upon her when she turned briefly back to Hook.

"You are in no way worth what I'm about to do, Pirate," she said, contempt dripping from her tone, and Henry knew with a horrible flash of clarity what was about to happen. "Fix that."

Then she strode forward, power visibly gathering around her, and met the beast's charge head on. It pounced at her in a single vicious lunge, but as its claws touched the aura of magic surrounding her, time froze for a single, aching second and that image burned itself into Henry's memory. Then there was a flash so bright and a sound so loud that Henry never found the words to describe it and for a moment, the world ended. There was a ringing in his ears and his vision was filled with white, but when he could see again he almost wished he couldn't. Where Regina had stood there was only a deep crater, deep enough that it had cracked a water pipe beneath the road, releasing an arc of water high into the air. There was no trace of the beast. There was no trace of his mom.

Emma had been manic in the days that followed, not sleeping, barely eating, casting every kind of tracking and locating spell she could find. Hook had withdrawn into himself, going through the motions of helping Emma, but often disappearing for hours at time and snapping at people for little things. Snow had been – and remained – inconsolable, and Charming was only slightly less so. Henry just felt numb. He'd cried and screamed and raged against the unfairness of it all, but that anger had soon given way to a bone deep sadness, an aching regret of things unsaid.

"I can't remember the last time I told her I loved her," he whispered one night as he and Emma sat on the couch in his grandparent's loft, staring at a blank tv screen.

"Henry…" Emma breathed out, but then fell silent and just pulled him to her side, wrapping an arm around him and squeezing tightly enough that Henry could feel that she was trembling.

They stayed that way until they both fell asleep, and the next morning Emma finally let Snow arrange the funeral.

…

There were more people there than Henry had expected, and he suspected that most of them had come to support the Charmings rather than mourn his mother. Rumplestiltskin was lurking back under the shade of the trees, his face set in an impassive mask. A handful of the Merry Men were clustered around, out of a sense of duty to Robin, Henry guessed. Roland was with them, clinging to Little John and looking small and sad and very young. Even some of the nuns had turned up, though the Blue Fairy was noticeably absent.

Emma had arrived last, looking gaunt and dressed in more black than he'd seen her in since she'd been the Dark One. It had earned her a few side-eyes from some of the other attendees, but she'd ignored them as she weaved through the crowd, moving to stand beside Henry and wrapping an arm tightly around his shoulders. She'd also mostly ignored Hook when he'd sidled up beside her, but she hadn't pulled away when he'd taken her hand.

Had Henry not been so close to her, he would've though Emma unaffected by Snow's eulogy, but pressed against her as he was, he could feel the tremor that ran through her every time Snow said his mom's name.

Snow spoke at length about Regina, remembering her as the woman who taught her about true love, hope, and what it meant to be family. There were tears rolling unchecked down her face, and when she'd finished she buried her head in David's shoulder and cradled their baby between them as Henry slipped out of his ma's half-hug and took Snow's place. He hadn't planned to speak, hadn't prepared anything, but as he stood in front of a crowd of blurred faces, he found he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

He spoke about the woman who had read comic books with him, who would sing half-remembered songs to herself while she cooked, who would lull him to sleep with stories that he wished he'd paid more attention to. He remembered the woman who had soothed every nightmare, every bumped head and grazed knee, who would hold him when he was scared and whisper that he was her little prince. The woman who had been his whole world for more than two-thirds of his life.

He didn't cry, because he had run out of tears a week ago, but his voice cracked as he finished with, "She was my mom. And I miss her." Then he stumbled off the steps to the crypt and back down to his family, almost falling into Emma's waiting arms. Her eyes were wet, and her hug was almost painfully tight, but her voice was steady when she spoke.

"Do you want to get out of here, kid?" she murmured softly, and Henry nodded against her shoulder, unable to face the sympathetic expressions of the people who didn't truly understand. Hook began to say something from somewhere beside them, but then there was a blur of gold and a feeling of weightlessness and they were gone.

They reappeared on a bluff overlooking the harbour. The sun was high in the sky and reflected off the water, and from where they stood, Henry could see the boats gently bobbing at the docks, the birds coasting through the air, the people moving to and fro, happily existing below them. He shivered when Emma released him, and he moved to sit at the base of the gnarled old tree that had grown at the peak of the bluff, stubbornly defying the wind and rain and slowly eroding cliff. After a moment, he felt Emma sink down beside him and pull her knees up to her chest.

Henry wasn't sure how long they sat together, not talking, just watching the shadows lengthen and the tide recede, until eventually Emma broke the comfortable silence. Her words were halting at first, but her voice grew steadier as she continued. She spoke about Regina, remembering the woman who had gone from a hated adversary to grudging ally to trusted friend. The woman who had loved selectively, but with everything she had, with an intensity Emma was only beginning to understand. The woman who had taught her that good could come from broken.

Henry realised that this was Emma's eulogy, the things she couldn't bear to say to the people she knew wouldn't understand. She spoke without structure, her words almost a stream-of-conscience at times, but Henry got the gist of what she meant, saw the picture she was painting of a woman who had been everything she'd wished for Henry when she'd given him up. A glint of light flashed in the corner of Henry's eye, and he turned his head, surprised to see tears flowing down Emma's face, sparkling in the setting sun. Her voice was starting to crack, but she kept talking, staring out over the endless ocean as she spoke, fleetingly, of the battle.

"It should never have happened," she said, her voice thick. "It's my fault, Henry, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Ma…" Henry whispered, his own voice clogged and his eyes wet with tears. "It's okay." He shuffled closer to her and tugged her arm until she leaned into him, burying her head in his shoulder as he slid an arm around her and noted with some very distant amusement that he was almost as tall as her now. Her tears were soaking into his shirt, but she was almost silent, breathing in hitched, ragged gasps, and Henry realised with a flash of insight that this was probably the first time she'd properly cried for Regina.

It was some time later, as the sun was just barely kissing the horizon that Emma drew in a deep, shuddering breath and straightened.

"We should get back before my mom sends out a search party," she said, her voice rough but steady again.

Henry nodded and stood, brushing the leaf litter off his pants and taking one last look around, fixing the image of this place and what had passed here in his memory. Then he took Emma's outstretched hand and they vanished in a plume of golden smoke, leaving the lonely bluff empty once more.

…

The days that followed passed slowly, blurring together as they all adjusted to a world without Regina in it. Snow spent most of her time with her son, while David went back to the sheriff's station. Emma still spent time searching for a way to bring Regina back, but Henry saw more of her, and she too resumed her position as Sheriff. Hook, when he wasn't helping Emma, lingered at the bottom of a bottle, coping with demons he wouldn't talk about. Henry spent most of his spare time surrounded by the empty storybooks, writing their stories. Sometime he wrote that his mom survived, emerged victorious against her foe as she had so many times before. Sometimes he wrote that the beast got all of them, dragged all of them back down to Hades. And sometimes he wrote it exactly as he remembered it. None of them became Storybooks, but Henry did it all the same. When he wasn't writing, he watched, and in watching he noticed one very important thing.

There was something wrong with Killian Jones.

Yup, so this is a thing that I did. TBC soon. You can find me on Tumblr as ominousowly if you want to yell at me or pat me on the head or whatever.

Owly Out.