Title: Toxic is the Unyielding Love (1/?)

Author: Maggiemerc

Rating: M

Characters: Swan Queen

Spoilers: Veers from canon after the third episode of season 2.

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own them. All the lady loving would be hella canon if I did.

Summary: After the events of "Destiny is the Rabbit Hole" Regina returns to Storybrooke to find the world changed in ways she could not have fathomed. Now she, Emma, and a woman from Kansas must team up to battle the bevy of evil witches who have made Storybrooke their home. Along the way there's a fire-breathing tentacle monster, a lewd and crude parrot and a masquerade ball that threatens to reveal everything.

Author's Note: The above summary is easily the most difficult one I've had to write because SPOILERS. But I heavily hinted at a lot of this for a while, so the above is good enough.

The real setup for this story will be apparent by the end of this chapter. I hope you're up for the ride, because it's going to be cracked the hell out.

Chapter One

He arrived as a storm raged outside the city. It rarely rained in Agrabah. The storms that beat against the city walls were made of sand and wind and lightning that left streaks of glass across the desert floor.

It was through such a horror, reigning molten glass from the sky, that he appeared with his two girls. He was dressed in clothes of another land and had a rakish grin but spoke softly to her husband.

"I've brought my finest wares to populate you harem," he said with a smile, and he waved to the two girls, the pale one who ducked her head coquettishly, and the proud Middle Kingdom girl who squared her jaw.

Her husband delighted at his new playthings and as he crowed with joy the man who'd stepped in from the storm turned to her with a knowing smile, "And here she sits, the Queen clever enough to escape her husband's chopping block."

She held out her hand and he took it in greeting, pressing his lips to her knuckle. "All the lands marvel at you my dear, and every whoremonger curses your name."

"Why," she asked.

"Because every day you live is another day one of our girls is denied your throne."

"I am sorry to anger you."

"Ah," he held up a finger as a point, "But I could never curse such a beauty as you."

"Your tongue is sly whoremonger."

It darted out to lick his lips and she found herself watching it…wantonly.

"Your husband will soon retire, yes?"

"I have told my story for the evening. Now he will leave me for other pleasures."

"It happens that I have brought more than those two whores to ply this palace's king and queen. I would gladly…share…my other wares with you."

He opened his mouth to futher illuminate his plan but she placed her finger on those coral pink lips. His skin was pale against her own. How unnaturally white this visitor from another land was.

"Not here. Come to my room. Ply me there."

"With pleasure."

The clock struck twelve and he appeared at her door with a basket of fruit and a bowl of honey. The fruit was succulent, the honey fragant, and his words perfurmed as he told her of their origins.

They found their way to the bed of pillows she often reclined upon. She in nothing but silk, and her sweet traveller in dark breeches alone.

His kisses were gentle and his words soft.

He plucked a plump berry from the basket and submerged it in the honey. Drew it up and let the honey drip licentiously from it. He meant to feed it to her, but first he dragged the honeyed berry across her lips. Smeared its stickiness onto her skin. She darted up to capture the fruit between her teeth but he smiled playfully and put it between his own. He dipped down and begged her with a touch to claim her prize. Which she did gleefully.

His hand, clever, with silver rings that glinted in the brazier light, crept skillfully up her inner thigh.

"Tell me," he whispered with that silken tongue, "what do you know of Sinbad and His Four Thieves?"

His tongue painted an arabesque down her throat.

"There was," she gasped, "a pirate. He has sailed the seven seas and seen lands that even a god would not dare set foot upon. In one such land he met the Four Thieves. Clever and evil and good and beyond all morals they raid every kingdom in searching for a way to a land untouched by magic and carrying the promise of their revenge and their love."

"And they found their way?"

She tilted her head to give him better access, "Yes. But Sinbad stole it from them. He fled from them for a year and thirty days before finding sanctuary in my husband's palace."

"And how can your husband give him sanctuary? He is but a king with a few more guards than others, and they are of legend."

She smiled, "Ah, but he has bargained with creatures from beyond and commands Falak, the fire breathing serpent who lives beneath the earth and warms our hearths with his angry breath."

"And Falak is dangerous?" The only thing more wicked than his tongue was that hand between her thighs.

"He is a serpent who breathes fire and is larger than the palace itself with a thousand teeth sharp as any sword."

"But the Four Thieves defeated the Hydra, the Minotaur and the Kraken. Outsmarted the Monkey King, twice. Out-lied the liar Loki too. Dueled Hercules to a standstill at the feet of Atlas and coaxed Amaterasu from her cave."

She leaned back to study his blue eyes that danced with secrets. "You know their story well."

"Yes," he said, "but I wish to hear more from you. Who are they?"

"Their names are hidden, as names hold power. But there is the Warrior Woman from the Middle Kingdom. She is as strong as a god and twice as fast with her sword and more noble than any man who draws breath."

Something clattered to the floor in the hall.

"And the fair princess whose beauty hides a savage cunning. Her fingers are quick with any lock and she wields a bow that never misses its mark stolen from Artemis herself."

Someone shouted, grunted and then was silent.

"And the wicked sorceress and fallen queen torn from those she loves and doomed to wander every world but the one she seeks. She never weeps, but turns her emotions into terrible magic that tears asunder worlds and it is said she laughs merrily as they burn."

He leaned over her, his blue eyes like sapphires shining. "And the fourth?"

"The pirate." Oh no. "Who has seduced ever maiden and man he's ever met, but those three he sails with, and who is almost unmatched with a sword, but holds no rival when he flashes his—"

He grinned, "Hook."

"You?"

"I'm afraid so my dear Scheherazade."

She looked down at the silver hook he wore instead of a hand. How had she never noticed it until now?

"You're wondering why you didn't notice it until now? A trick of Regina's." He stared at it with pride, "Hides my hook quite nicely for a time."

"You're one of them."

"Yes, my dear, and I've come for the bastard Sinbad. If you tell me where he is my friends and I will kill that evil husband of yours."

"Why—"

"He forces you to tell him stories correct? Until he grows bored and then," he slashed his finger across his neck, "off with your head. How many have you told?"

"A thousand…and one."

"Why make it a thousand and two when my hook can silence that brute and you can have a kingdom?"

It was an appealing offer. "And all you require?"

"Sinba—"

The door to her chambers blew open and two women—his two women—backed into the room. One had dressed in a green gown with a brown leather vest that kept her breast restrained so she might fire arrow after arrow as smooth as a master marksman. The other was in armor from the Middle Kingdom and wielded her sword confidently, batting away spears and arrows the guards in the hall unleashed.

"Did you find Sinbad," the girl in the dress asked.

"Well, I was about to before you two clomped in!"

"Could you hurry—" the one in armor glanced over her shoulder at them and rolled her eyes. "Killian. Where is your shirt? And your pants?"

"I was seducing!"

The archer caught an arrow shot at her and then fired it back, "Times up! Will she help us or not?"

Hook, one of the dread Four Thieves rounded on her and looked almost, pleading, "Well love. Fancy a kingdom?"

"I—"

The whole room suddenly shook as something rumbled far, far, far, far beneath them.

"Was—"

"That—"

"The serpent?"

"Yes," Scheherazade said. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

Hook had his back to her, pulling his leather pants up over a very nice rear, "It's all right. That's why we keep an angry sorceress around. Comes in handy for—"

The boom was deafening. Everyone, but the Four Thieves of the apocalypse, covered their ears. The sky beyond the window had been the black of a moonless night, but was suddenly bright as a summer day.

The warrior woman grabbed Scheherazade and jerked her around to face her, "Sinbad. Where is he?"

"With my husband. Late at night they disappear beneath the castle to play games with that winged cap of his."

"It isn't his," the markswoman said, "we stole it from Hermes. He was busy getting seduced into a threesome with Aphrodite and a satyr and missed the entire affair!"

"Can you show us where," the warrior woman asked.

"Yes. I—I think so."

Hook ducked down under the cushions they'd been residing on just moments earlier. "Good. Let me find my shirt and we'll be—"

The wall that held the windows exploded into shards of masonry. A body flew through, slamming into the tapestries on the far wall and sliding to the floor—hidden beneath one beautifully woven cloth. The thieves were, again, not fazed in the slightest. Hook continued to look for his shirt and the two women turned to push the soldiers in the hall back.

The body coughed and stood, tugging the tapestry off to reveal a woman, dressed in tight leather pants, tall boots, a shirt nearly as billowy as the pirate's missing one, and a very well tailored red silk-lined black coat that flared at the waist. Her friends were adventurers. She was…power. She brushed chalky flecks of wall off of her and shook the dust from her hair.

"Well," she said expectantly.

"He's down below," the warrior called.

"She's going to take us to her," Hook followed up.

"I see." She cocked her head to the side in curiosity. "Killian. Where on earth is your shirt?"

"I don't—ah ha!" He held up the black shirt triumphantly. "Found it. How goes your war with Falak, the fire breathing serpent?"

"The name is a misnomer. He has tentacles. Hundreds of—" One such tentacle darted into the room and wrapped around the presumed sorceress's waist. Her eyes widened in surprised. With an oomph she was dragged back out again into the night.

Hook pulled his shirt over his head and walked to the edge of the room to watch the battle. The other two, having dealt with the soldiers, followed. Their heads moved in tandem, tracking the fiery war waged in the courtyard.

"Someone should help her," the markswoman mused. "Only two of us are needed for Sinbad."

"Well, I'm not going," Hook declared. "You women always send me after the monsters that explode in pus and frankly I'm tired of having to clean it out of my own damn clothing. You go Mulan. You're fond of hot-headed serpents."

"I am not a serpent," the markswoman said in offense.

"And I'm not the one that let Sinbad get away in the first place," the warrior, Mulan, said.

Both women slowly turned to stare at Hook who continued to watch the fight.

"I didn't let him get away. He drugged me." He looked back at them.

They were completely silent.

"Fine. But this is the last time."

He swung back around dashingly grabbing Scheherazade and dipping her so low her hair brushed the floor. "Until next time love," he proclaimed before dropping a very wet and pleasant kiss on her lips.

He swung her back up and in nearly the same motion kicked a sword up into his hand, took a running start and leapt out of the hole into the wall, catching hold of the giant, hundred tentacled, fire breathing monster with his hook.

A shower of fire exploded from a tentacle and a dark shape, the woman, dropped, stopped, and then flew back up, launching fireballs at the serpent's head while Hook climbed higher up with his sword between his teeth.

"They'll be fine right," the markswoman asked.

"Yes," Mulan said definitively. "This isn't nearly as bad as the jikininki." Both women shuddered visibly.

Outside a tentacle wrapped around Hook and flung him through a palace window directly below them. A chorus of screams rang up from below, followed by a swaggering, "Ladies."

"Of course, he gets thrown into the harem," the archer said in annoyance.

Another tentacle snaked into the room below jerked the pirate back out and into the fight.

"He's always getting tossed into rooms full of scantily clad ladies." The archer was still very concerned about that. "Is it magic? Did Regina curse him?"

Mulan rolled her eyes, sheathed her sword, and swept Scheherazade into her own arms in the most dashing way she'd ever been swept. "Please, your Majesty, take us to your husband, so we might kill him and finally give this kingdom the queen they deserve."

Oh my. Scheherazade blushed.

The markswoman rolled her eyes, "Am I the only one who doesn't flirt with the people we rescue?"

####

Falak, as it turns out, cast fire by regurgitating its own bile and igniting it. If one happened to be a witch capable of flame retardancy and could hold one's breath while being swallowed one could arrive in that stomach full of fuel, create a single spark, and explode the monster from within.

This is precisely what Regina did.

She, unfortunately, failed to account for Killian, who had apparently been very, very high up in the air at the moment of the explosion and was plummeting towards the ground with a very unmanly yelp.

She could have caught him, but forming all the gooey remnants of the monster into a cushion for his fall was much more amusing. He sunk into it face first and stopped very quickly, his feet sticking comically up in the air and his entire body going rigid.

"Killian, dear," she called, "Are you alive?"

His foot twitched and the whole circle of body parts quivered.

"I'll take that as a yes!"

It had become a running joke between Regina and Aurora to see how filthy they could get the pirate on any given adventure. So far the time he spent twenty minutes in a giant's large intestine stuck between two boils he had to burst to escape was the worst. They'd made him sleep in a dinghy dragged by the ship for a week until the smell wore off.

Regina popped her neck and glanced down on her clothes. They were wet with unburned bile that likely reeked as badly as the mess Killian was in, and her hair clung to her skull.

She shook her head and ran her fingers through the sopping wet mess that her hair was. Then scowled. Of all the—she'd burned her hair!

It had grown out quite nicely over the last two and a half years and now it felt shorter than when she'd gone through the damn portal!

Aurora and Mulan appeared at the edge of the courtyard with a fidgety Sinbad between them. He kept trying to twist out of Mulan's grip, but as Regina knew from experience, it was virtually magical in its resilience.

Aurora glance up at the feet sticking out of the Falak goo and ducked her head to mask her smile. Mulan just blinked—she actually liked to use the dinghy to meditate and hated having to give it over to a reeking Killian Jones.

Sinbad stopped writhing just long enough to stare at Regina. "Did you do something to your hair?"

Regina scowled. "Will anyone protest if I turn him into a bird for the foreseeable future?"

Killian had managed to free one arm and waved what she presumed was a no. Mulan and Aurora agreed.

"Uh," Sinbad protested, "I prote—"

He was cut off as his vocal cords shifted and he shrank to the size of a—

"A parrot," Aurora asked.

"For Killian. He's been wanting more friends."

Mulan caught the bird swiftly and tied a piece of leather around his leg to keep him from flying away. "He's so colorful."

"I know," she said gleefully, "And…" she raised her hand to call for a moment of silence.

Sinbad the bird squawked, "I'm horny."

Neither Mulan or Aurora could find their words.

"He says the first thought that slips into his tiny little brain."

"Your breasts are spectacular," he squawked, his beady yellow eyes on Regina.

On second thought, as hilarious curses went, it might be the sort to backfire.

"Does Mulan go down on Aurora?"

Horribly, horribly backfire.

Killian finally wrenched the rest of himself out of the body parts and leaned on them, rested his chin in his hand. "I'm curious for the answer to that question as well."

Sinbad squawked, "Let's have an orgy!"

####

Scheherazade's queenly coup was swift and far more pleasant than Regina's own. The people cheered, the king's body was paraded through the streets. Crowds roasted the parts of Falak on a spit and feasted.

Regina mused that she should have spent more time tearing down her own husband's reputation before her coup. If the people had hated Leopold as she had maybe she wouldn't have had to kill as many to secure her power.

"Thinking about your own coup," Killian asked, "they didn't quite take to the streets."

"They did, but they were riots, and only after they thought I'd killed Snow White."

"Scheherazade's ascension is much more pleasant than."

"Quite. You'd think her husband was a monster."

"He beheaded his first thousand wives after taking their virginity and kept her alive because she told nice stories. And he had a fire breathing tentacle monster living under his castle. And he tried to buy Mulan and Aurora from me for a blow job and a camel. And he thought Sinbad was an honorable man."

Sinbad flapped his wings in protest, but didn't speak. Mulan had fashioned a muzzle for him so fast Regina half thought she'd used magic and it kept him blessedly silent.

"He's not the only one."

Killian laughed, "I never thought he was honorable. Just magnificent in bed."

"Are you trying to make me ill?"

"I'm not the one who has sex dreams about the dear departed Miss Swan."

Being forced to wander in each other's dreams for two week had forced the four of them to bond early in their partnership, but it also had unleashed all sorts of truths Regina would have preferred stayed hidden. Like her apparent lust for Emma Swan. And Hook's lust for anything with genitalia. And Mulan and Aurora's very chaste mutual lovefest that had had honest to God rainbows and unicorns.

"Do you think she'll be a good queen," she said, pushing the conversation away from the woman she'd passionately kissed the last time she'd seen her and couldn't stop thinking about since even though she hated her a great, great deal.

Killian shrugged, "She has lovely taste in lovers."

Regina scowled.

"And she seems wise. She has the support and love of her people. And her father was essentially running the kingdom as Chief Vizier. Together they could turn Agrabah into a jewel."

Scheherazade broke away from the crowd of virgin girls they'd liberated from her dead husband's harem and skipped over to them, laughing all the while. "Come my friends," she said, "take in the festivities!"

Killian grinned rakishly, "If you're offering." He dragged the queen back out into the joyful firelight, leaving Regina comfortable in her shadows.

Until a little girl came up to her with a little coaxing from her father. "Are you one of the Four Thieves?"

That silly title grated on Regina's nerves but she smiled politely, "I am."

"Which one are you?"

How were they identified? Warrior woman. Pirate. Princess. "The Evil Queen."

The girl frowned. "That's not one of the Four Thieves!"

"Oh?"

"There's the Pirate. The Princess. The Warrior. And the Sorceress."

"And what have you heard of the Sorceress?"

She braced herself. "That she is separated from her lover and her son and her magic comes from her sadness." Well. That wasn't exactly accurate— "and she shoots fireballs!"

Regina leaned down and snapped her fingers, a blaze of fire forming just above her thumb, "That I do. The better to roast children who don't mind their parents."

The little girl's lip wobbled, indicating she was in no way as brave as Regina's own son. She burst into terrified tears and she turned on her tiny little heel and dashed back to her father. He glared, but didn't say anything. The little girl might think she was some ridiculous woman fueled by tears but the man was old enough to know the legend of the real Regina. The Evil Queen.

"Most people would be humbled by that little girl," Mulan observed, popping out of the shadows like she always did. It had become so habitual Regina didn't even jump anymore.

"Most people would also find her story about my tears asinine."

"Someone who didn't know you would point out that you've changed, and that little girl can see it better than you."

Regina scowled, "I'm so glad I'm surrounded by people who know me then."

But Mulan wasn't done. She clasped her hands behind her back and watched the fires thoughtfully, "That same someone would tell you that you're not an Evil Queen. Not anymore."

"Tell that to Falak, or Scheherazade's husband, or the parrot on Killian's shoulder."

"Or the people of the Enchanted Forest?"

To those hypocrites it would never change. Not until she danced in red hot shoes of iron and burned to death at Snow White's feet.

"They'll see what we all see," Mulan said with no small amount of her trademark confidence. "The Sorceress that took on Circe in single combat to save a kingdom."

"That we needed unscathed if we wanted to find Hermes," she quickly countered.

Mulan just stared serenely at her.

"Oh shut up," she snapped.

"You know that I'm not just talking up your heroic qualities to goad you don't you?"

That was interesting. Mulan had a puckish little streak. Not as playful as her girlfriend's. More a quiet and dark sort of humor, that manifested in her tendency to play devil's advocate just to see a person squirm.

"An ulterior motive? From you?"

"The plan is tomorrow you go through the portal alone. I just want that heroism I've spent the last two and half years nurturing to stick with you long enough for you to come back and get us."

"I said I would."

"It would be easy to forget. If we eventually made it over there you could just claim you couldn't bring the barrier down."

"Mulan, I swore to you I would get you all to Storybrooke. I meant it."

"Like the last time?"

Regina frowned. "What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"The portal Emma and Snow went though. It was only powerful enough to get three people through. You just got left behind."

Well…clever. And a surprise. "How long have you known?"

"I suspected back then on the ship when you agreed we were all coming with you. Earlier you'd told us there wasn't enough power in the spell. That was why you'd come alone in the first place. But I knew when Killian and I found you bleeding in the forest."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"You're our way home Regina, and now…you're my friend. But I also think we've come far enough that I can be honest with you."

And, the implication was, that Regina could be honest with her. "That was the plan."

Mulan closed her eyes. The confirmation hurting more than either of them could have anticipated. "I can't let you betray us again. I can't let that happen to Aurora."

Regina reached out and grasped Mulan's hand. "It won't. This time will be different."

Because they understood one another quite more than either wanted to Mulan did not press Regina for reasons why. They were apparent enough. They'd spent these long years together. Forming…partnerships. They'd dared trust each other with their lives and they'd survived because of it. The four of them: traitorous pirate, honorable warrior, noble princess and evil queen. Something had been forged between them that Regina happily refused to define and Aurora teased as friendship when she was positive Regina couldn't reach her with a fireball.

It was…pleasant.

They trusted her and cared for her and saw a hero where others saw a villain. And for that alone she'd make sure the three others made it to Storybrooke. Alive.

####

Two bright little yellow eyes, so close she had to cross her eyes to look at them properly, glared at her. "Hey," the bird asked, "want to fuck?"

Regina shouted and sat up. Brightly colored wings beat at her face and she began pooling magic for the fireball to end all fireballs as Sinbad fled back to the assumed safety of Killian's shoulder. The man, who was going to end up like his ex-boyfriend if he wasn't careful, was doubled over laughing.

"It was priceless," he exclaimed.

The fireball singed hair, feather, and blackened the wall behind the pirate in his bird. "Keep laughing," Regina growled, "and I'll give you a peg leg to go with the hook and parrot."

He held up his hook and hand in peace, "It was just a joke."

"I'm in no mood."

"Nervous about potentially ripping yourself apart trying to break through the barrier up around your other world?"

Yes. Yes, she was. But she said instead, "I was sleeping. You and that bird brain interrupted it."

He patted Sinbad's head. "Be nice. The bastard used to have a whole brain."

Regina actually looked forward to eventually removing the curse and watching the bastard's embarrassment when he remembered every last moment of his time as a bird. Like the current moment, where he was defecating on Killian's shoulder.

Killian's grin faded, "He's shit on me again hasn't he?"

She nodded.

He took a swing at the bird, but as quick as the man he'd been Sinbad flew out the window and presumably above deck.

Or possibly to Mulan and Aurora's quarters, which were just next door to Regina's. Sure enough there was a low whistle from the bird, heard clearly through the thin wooden wall. "Woah, scissoring."

Killian grinned, and even Regina had to smile at the curses in foreign languages and angry clanging noise that was likely a half naked Mulan drawing her sword and chasing the bird.

"He really is the best gift you've ever given me dear."

"I'm so glad I could gift you the most irritating creature on all the lands."

Killian's grin turned positively child-like, reminding Regina of the son she hadn't seen in years, and that, if all went well, she'd see again in mere hours.

The bird flapped by her window again and then flew—

"He didn't go into the hold with the horses did he?"

A whinny and "whump" said that Sinbad most definitely did.

####

After a final meal shared with Scheherazade and her father, the Chief Vizier, they set sail away from Agrabah. There were a few sidetracks of course. Hwin and Gauvin both needed more oats and Aurora noted that Sinbad (only frightened—not stomped to death) would need birdseed. Killian got distracted at a tailor and spent thirty minutes trying on pants in a variety of colors he insisted weren't black. And ever single food vendor in town tried to sell them Falak cooked in a myriad of ways.

They managed to escape the vendors. Or they thought they did, until Mulan revealed the barrel of salted fire breathing serpent she'd purchased that was guaranteed to given them dysentery.

Finally they set sail. The Jolly Roger was the fastest ship in any land and reached the border between the Agrabah and the Enchanted Forest in under an hour. It was their first time returning there since Sinbad had stolen Hermes' winged cap from them and Regina was surprised to find that the land actually felt different.

There'd been changes between the Enchanted Forest before the curse and after the curse, yet somehow it was this visit in which the changes felt most profound.

She took a deep breath and found a pool of regret waiting in her chest and threatening tears in her eyes. This was her land, the silence and the smell of ash that pervaded it were because of her.

Her comrades, as if mindful of her dark thoughts, said nothing until they anchored the boat a few yards from shore.

Regina allowed herself a moment with Gauvin and Hwin while Killian prepared the dinghy to take them to the beach. They'd agreed that risking the ship (and horses) would be foolish. Regina's first attempt at returning home would be on dry land.

It was the barrier's fault. Their first attempt back to Storybrooke had been with a single splinter from Yggdrasill. It was actually less a splinter and more a fiber from the tree, as long as her finger and thin as a hair. It should have been enough to get her, the three others, the ship, the horses and even a continent through. That was the potency of the world tree.

But she'd ran up hard against a barrier set between the world Storybrooke resided in and all others. It took them six more months to finally find an object powerful enough to pierce the barrier. Hermes' cap allowed the god to travel between worlds with a thought. Shattered and inhaled it would, hopefully, let Regina do the same, and take as many as she liked with her.

Hopefully. Unmaking an object as potent as the trickster god's cap was deadly, and consuming it to possess its power was positively suicidal.

Once on the shore she carefully pulled the cap from the velvet bag Mulan held. The wings on it seemed made of gold, and flickered as fast as a hummingbird's. Regina had to hold it in both her hands to keep it from flying away.

Aurora started forward for a hug, but thought better of it. "Good luck," she said simply.

"Try not to vaporize yourself," Killian warned helpfully.

Mulan's mouth was set in that permanent grim line of her's, but her words were imbued with hope. "We'll see you again soon Regina."

They all stepped back, Mulan taking Aurora's hand and Killian shading his eyes from the sun. Regina looked back down at the cap.

A god's precious possession. An object so powerful armies would wage war a thousand years to possess it. She inhaled. Exhaled. Her breath was shaky. There was no room for that.

She inhaled. Exhaled again. Better.

Inhale. Exhale.

The wings started to move in time with her breath, slowing until she could see ever golden barb on each feather.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The cap began to disintegrate, turning to purple and gold dust.

Inhale.

Exhale.

There was nothing left of it. Just raw power resting in her hands. Thunder clapped. Wind blew violently in the trees.

Inhale.

Exhale.

She drew the magic in. Hot and alive it writhed through her, tattooing her skin with its power. Her knees turned unsteady. The thunder grew louder.

Lightening cracked on the sand.

Inhale.

Exhale.

It was in her now. All the magic of that god's passageway between worlds.

All worlds.

She could see them with a thought.

She was Jefferson's magic hat, seeing the great expanse of all universes pressed against each other. Pressed against her.

Inhale.

Exhale.

She could that world. The world with Henry and Emma and Snow White and everyone she hated and almost everyone she loved.

Inhale.

Exhale.

She reached out for it. The barrier around it flexed. Held. She pressed.

And pressed.

Cracks formed.

But the barrier held.

Inhale.

Exhale.

There. The tiniest of openings. Too small for a full grown woman. So she turned herself small. And smaller. And smaller still. The space between her and home yawned wide, but Regina reached and felt the grasp of home tightly on her mind and she pushed forward.

And with a gentle pop she was home.

####

But it wasn't quite right. She was standing in a train station as grand as that one in Manhattan. A ceiling of marble was a hundred feet overhead. People, and sorcerers and monsters alike milled casually about.

She took a deep breath and could taste the exhaust and filth that she recognized as her world's unique taste. She was home, but it was very different. As though every land that had ever been had found its way there.

Behind her a mirror shimmered and a man dressed in a ridiculous long black robe stepped out casually. He barely glanced at her as he walked by, his nose buried in a book. But then he stopped and seemed to stare at something else.

She followed his gaze to a statue in the middle of the station. A giant bronze statue of a woman in a grand gown.

A giant bronze statue of Regina in a grand gown.

What on earth?

The man in the robe glanced at her again and his eyes widened in recognition. He ran over to a very official looking woman in a uniform. He pointed and gestured wildly and Regina planted her feet firmly and prepared to fight. Whether with magic or with words she didn't know. And she didn't care. What she wanted most was answers, and she'd gladly pull them from the man or his friend with tortured screams in necessary.

Only a hand grabbed her wrist and a young man appeared before her and grinned boyishly. "Run," he urged. Like they were embarking on a great adventure. He threw something at the woman approaching. She'd drawn a black rod from…somewhere and was jogging towards them.

But the something the man threw exploded in a flash of light and Regina let herself be dragged away. They dodged more guards. They came, all shapes and sizes, out of nowhere. Regina flung some away with magic, and some the man expertly tossed aside with a shoulder or a punch or a well placed kick. He led Regina out into an alleyway. The street was noisy beyond, and more sounds obnoxiously passed over head. The man paid them no mind, and they were running so quickly Regina didn't have time to do more than wonder why one earth the sky was full of blimps and funny little planes.

They came abruptly to a dead end.

"Well, any more plans," she asked sarcastically.

He grinned again, still acting as though this were all one of Henry's video games. He drew a wand from the messenger bag he wore and tapped it against the wall. A door appeared. He tossed Regina through and followed just as guards could be heard in the alley behind them. Another tap and the door was gone.

"That should lose them."

"They won't just break though?"

"Not through a foot of cement and steel."

"You've done this before."

"Sure," he said brightly, "lot's of times."

Regina couldn't contain it any longer. She rolled eyes theatrically.

Which only made the man laugh.

It was…familiar. Sparking a sudden pang in Regina.

"Wow," he said. "You're really here. And you haven't changed at all."

He invaded her space, poking and prodding and squeezing her and just when she was about to scorch him into the unknown he picked her up in a hug and laughed again, more jubilantly than ever before.

"You're actually here!"

And Regina had officially had enough. She shoved the man away and stepped as far back as she could without leaving the room. He held his hands up apologetically, but continued to grin like an idiot. Regina ran her hands through her hair and patted at her clothes in an effort to gain back some semblance of, if anything else, self.

"And where exactly is here?"

"Storybrooke."

It was Regina's turn to laugh. "I know Storybrooke. We never had a train station."

"We still don't. That's a way station full of portals to other lands."

"Is that a fact?"

"It was about the first thing your mom built when she got here. She used it to fill this place up with her goons."

"I see."

"Wait." He frowned petulantly, "You really don't believe me?"

"No. I'm afraid I don't. This—world—isn't mine."

"It is yours though. This is the Storybrooke you created 1983."

"And how could you possibly know that?"

He tilted his head to the side in a very familiar way, "Because you told me about it when Emma broke the curse and you didn't have a choice."

"Excuse me?"

He stepped into her space again, and took both of her hands like he had a right, "Mom," he said carefully, "It's me. Henry."