Her feet thump against the earth and the moss makes her tremble with every leggy stride. Emma's lungs burn, Zelena in the distance a cackling pain in her behind.
"Come on Saviour, catch up!"
Emma doesn't bother replying, avoiding a low tree-branch as the grass field in front of Zelena's house appears in the distance, Zelena breaking through the tree-line, running directly towards the farmhouse.
"Swan!" she hears Hook's voice behind her, far off and echoing. Emma pays him no heed, focusing on her lost captive. How did she even break out of the jail without magic?
Emma escapes the forest. Ahead, the barn doors crumple inwards, a fierce wind pulling them into the time portal. Zelena's hair is whipped out of its bun as she gets closer and Emma realises starkly that she's not going to be able to catch up. Giving up on running after her – glad that she gets to stop running, thank god – the sheriff reaches for her gun at her belt, clicking off the safety and taking only a few precious moments to aim.
I can't let her travel through time, Emma thinks, knowing that in this moment she only has one choice. I'm sorry Regina, she thinks belatedly.
When she fires, she misses, the strange wind from the portal causing her bullets to go swerving into the golden light – but Emma keeps shooting until her clip is empty. At least two of her bullets hit Zelena's arms, one skimming her and the other burrowing in, near her shoulder. It's for naught, though, because Zelena keeps staggering towards the portal right into its vacuum.
Emma starts to run forwards again, intent on following her, but the portal closes just as she reaches the barn doors and-
Creak.
Emma winces, clenching her fists as she looks at the wooden stair beneath her in betrayal. Hearing her mother get out of bed what seems like an hour later after waiting with baited breath, Emma does away with secrecy, rushing down the staircase of their two-story home. She jumps the last three steps, barely stumbling as she twists towards the front door.
"Emma Swan!" her mother snaps, following her. Emma grabs her cloak, haphazardly tugging on her boots and getting right mixed up with left while she's at it, before unlatching the door – only for it to be swung open from the outside a moment later.
Zelena comes up behind Emma, arms curling around her. "I told you," she admonishes, clearly annoyed, "we're having a visitor this morning and you can't leave."
Emma wrinkles her nose, pushing back into her mother as she eyes the stranger in their doorway with distrust. "Polly's waiting for me."
"Polly's mother knows that you're not visiting today," Zelena takes her cloak off her shoulders, hanging it back up before kissing the cheek of the other woman. "Marinka. How are you?"
"Eager to make magic with you," Marinka greets, Emma watching her mother roll her eyes in confusion. "Apologies. Is this your daughter, then?"
"Yes," Zelena replies fondly, "I abducted her."
Emma is the one to roll her eyes now, long tired of her mothers stories about destinies and being a time traveller. Huffing, Emma tugs off her boots, dropping them by the door and going to their large wooden dining table, sitting up on the bench and unwrapping the waiting bread, tearing off the end as her mother and the stranger talk quietly to each other. As she eats her breakfast, Emma eyes the newcomer.
She's dressed in finery, is what Emma notices first – her cloak black but the blue dress underneath patterned and embroidered prettily, the flowers and vine around the hem glittering in the light. Emma's eyes widen as she swears she sees them move.
"Emma," her mother calls, leading Marinka over to the table, yawning quietly. They both sit opposite Emma, settling themselves. "Emma," Zelena repeats, "This is a friend of mine. Her name is Marinka and she's a witch, like me – but with far lighter magic than I."
"Oh," Emma's brow furrows. "Hello."
"I am to teach you magic, utenok." Marinka says, tucking two blonde curls behind her ears. "Three days a week, you will come to my house and learn alongside my daughter, who is only two years older than you."
Emma counts in her head, "She's nine?"
"Yes," Marinka says, "Elvira cannot see though as she recently lost her sight and so you must be kind. Can you do that, Emma?"
"I can," Emma says, straightening in her seat. "I promise!"
"Good," Marinka looks to Zelena and Emma frowns as she leans in, pressing her lips to her mothers. "I hope this works out."
"Same here, sweetheart," her mother says, glancing at Emma. The seven year old looks between them for a moment, before stuffing the rest of her bread in her mouth, uncaring, even if she's extra interested in Marinka now. Zelena sighs. "Chew your food, girl, honestly – must be the Charming genes."
"I think it's amusing," Marinka says, chuckling a little, draping her arm around Zelena's shoulder. "Elvira is going to be disgusted."
Emma pauses, a little uneasy even as her mother laughs to herself, shaking her head again.
"Trust me when I say that my daughter," Zelena kisses Marinka's lips again, lightly, in between words, "Emma Swan, is not going to change one little bit."
"…point proven," her mother mutters to herself ten years later, cradling her grandson close. "Are you sure about the name?"
"Henry," Emma says stubbornly, feeling it in her bones – like fate or even destiny. Or, a voice in her head whispers, you want to call your son Henry like this 'Regina' does, in another timeline.
Zelena sighs, handing him back without another word. Emma curls her arms around her son, kissing his damp forehead. Across the room, Elvira huffs, crossing her arms.
"Don't I get to hold my nephew?"
"Wait your turn, gingerbread," Emma replies in a slurred mutter, too tired to deal with her step-sister right now. She feels like all the blood has drained out of her and abruptly, Emma feels like she's going to be sick. Her arms go slack, Henry dropping precariously. "Take him, now," she orders Elvira quickly, dizzy.
"Emma?" Zelena startles, worried as Elvira takes her nephew. Emma swoons, heart racing in her chest. "Get your mother," she orders Elvira, who rushes away, Henry still in her arms. "Stay with me, sweetheart, please. You can't die on me now – you're my happy ending, come on, Emma."
I'm your happy ending? Emma thinks, before the darkness takes her.