Chapter 2 – A Yoke of Heartstrings

The Next Morning…

Henry yawned and rubbed at his eyes, tripping down the stairs and trying to wake up enough to make the monumental decision as to what to have for breakfast. The old faithful of Shreddies or chance his mom's ill mood and go for some Lucky Charms? Would the sugary buzz be worth the lecture about giving himself diabetes?

Of course, there was always the chance she had slept late and he could get away before she even saw him.

He had heard her come in late the night before. Really late. It had been after two by the time she had padded along the corridor outside his room and Henry had huddled down, desperately feigning sleep for when she opened the door to check on him. He had been up so late reading the book. She would be furious at the best of times, him not getting enough sleep, but over the book? She'd flip her lid. He'd held the overheated flashlight hot in his palm from just having doused it, every sound seemed magnified a thousand times as he listened carefully. Had she noticed? Had she seen the light in the window despite him camping under the duvet?

Henry needn't have worried.

His mom hadn't even opened his bedroom door, just continued slowly –very slowly- past his room and into her own. He had heard the shower go on and –even though it had seemed to take forever for him to fall asleep- it had still been running when he had finally slipped into slumber.

Henry slipped into the kitchen quietly, it was dark inside, and flipped the light. A small part of him thought about going up to check on her. Last night had been weird. She always checked on him when she came in. She always showered in the morning too…something wasn't right and –while Henry was determined to stop the Evil Queen- he was somewhat resigned to her being his mom too and that he kind of…well he DID care about her.

Rats. He was going to have to go and wake her, wasn't he? She was going to be surly and moody about it too. Having slept in. She'd have coffee instead of breakfast and take it out on someone else because she was in a bad mood.

Another thing Henry needn't have worried about.

"Mom!" Henry twitched in surprise when he flipped on the kitchen light and found Regina exactly where he hadn't expected her to be. "What are you doing?"

Regina half turned to him, her hair falling over one side of her face and she watched him for a long moment with just one eye. She seemed to not know him for a moment, then she blinked and it came back to her.

"Henry."

"Mom? Are you okay?" Henry cautiously approached.

She was sitting on the worktop, her legs tucked up and her feet in the sink. Her feet. In the sink. Henry stared.

"Hurry and have your breakfast." Regina said instead. "Miss Swan shall be here to collect you soon, I imagine."

She lifted a coffee cup to her mouth with a hand that barely shook and set it back down on the windowsill with a deliberate and practiced precision. She pried her hand from the coffee cup and Henry stared.

"Mom, your hand!" Henry rushed forward, snatching the steps from under the island counter and planting them in front of the sink. He clambered up, reaching to take her hand in his and take a closer look. "What happened?!"

"Nothing." Regina bit back her hiss when he closed his fingers around hers and the bandages covering them. She was more gauze than skin at the moment.

"Mom, your feet!" Henry looked down into the water and saw the massacre that was Regina's feet.

She had ruined her shoes the night before and cut clean through to her feet. It had been a LONG walk –and in places a crawl- back to the manor. She had whiled the night away showering away the grime and blood and had moved on to trying to rebuild her appearance. It had always been much easier with magic, she could erase the damage with a well placed spell or three, but not here. Here she had to make do with medicinal alcohol, bandages and superglue.

Which meant she had been caught before she could fully disinfect her feet and dress them as she had done her hands.

She was really quite lucky that she hadn't severed a blood vessel or even a finger. She'd been quite far gone the night before and utterly exhausted when she was done.

So far so that the enchanted heart still lay in the pocket of her overcoat slung over the end of her bed where she had dropped it the night before. She did hope Henry didn't come across it, that might add a little more credence to his claims than she preferred.

Then again, perhaps it was time. Perhaps she was finally done. Maybe they would make it quick. A nice beheading or a proper hanging. She'd rather avoid the stake burning, that wouldn't do at all.

"What happened to you?"

Regina twisted rather than answer him and reached into the cabinet behind him and over her head. She pulled out a brightly coloured box. Lucky Charms, his favourite.

"Here, make yourself a bowl. You're going to be late."

"No." He frowned at her. "What happened? Did someone do this to you?"

"No. I tripped."

Henry arched a brow.

"Are you lying to me?"

Regina looked at him a long moment and blinked languidly. There was no reflection in her eyes, Henry noticed, they swallowed even light. They were almost purple this close.

"Yes."

Henry blinked, thrown.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

"No."

"Oh."

"I must admit, I'm surprised you care." Regina straightened away from him and picked up her coffee cup again, sipping it and not looking at him. "I would think you'd be delighted to be that much closer to crowing 'ding-dong, the witch is dead'."

"That's not fair." Henry's voice was very quiet and his conscience burned him.

"Neither is betraying your mother to the woman who abandoned you, but here we are." She was staring out the window, only half paying attention to what she was saying, which was why it was the truth. "Get ready for school, Henry. Your 'real' mother will be here soon."

Henry didn't move. Nothing in him did. He was reeling from the pain her words inflicted. She had never spoken to him like that. She spoke to other people like that. She towered over him on the counter top, not stooping to speak with him in the slightest. That was what she did with other people too. She bent down for him, crouched so they were closer to eye level…not today. Henry felt the loss keenly. He fidgeted, his hand grasping the canister on the counter by the taps.

"Salt?"

"A natural antiseptic." Her voice was still largely absent.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Henry looked into the cloudy water around his mother's bare feet. He could see the cuts and bruises latticing over them. The water stained ever so slightly pink.

"Like hellfire." Regina agreed blandly.

"Why…why would you do that?" Henry looked up at her, more than a little confused and even more so when she laughed suddenly.

"I hope you never find out." She reached out and stroked his hair, an unconscious gesture, seeming not to notice the way her bandages and plasters caught in the strands.

"Mom…are you okay?" Henry tried again.

"No."

"What's wrong?"

She laughed again and turned to look at him and her smile faltered only when his mouth dropped open.

"Your face!" Henry reached up but she jerked back out of his reach. "Who did that to you?!"

"Henry…"

"No!" Henry slammed the salt canister down on the counter and scattered the white crystals everywhere. "Somebody hit you! Tell me who did it!"

Regina very deliberately scooped up some salt grains and tossed them over her shoulder. She did the same for Henry. Gathering her words.

"It's none of your concern."

"You're my mom! Of course I'm concerned!"

"How nice of you to finally notice." Regina offered him a tight smile, pained because of the swelling of her lip and jaw. "That does not, however, mean you have the right to interfere. Unlike some, I don't need a Saviour to fix my problems for me." Regina pulled her feet from the sink and let the water away. She dried them meticulously with a clean towel and then lowered them down over the side of the cabinets.

"You're my mom." Henry said again, less sure this time. "Beating you up is against the law…isn't it?"

"Henry," Regina did lean in close then, almost nose to nose, "either you believe I am the Evil Queen, in which case I must surely be destroyed, or I am the woman who raised you and you betrayed by committing theft, running away to find the woman that abandoned you and dragging her back here to rub my face in it. Which, I think, is more malicious than anything a storybook villain could hope to muster."

"You can't be both?" Henry was stunned and the question was out before he could stop it.

"Don't be cruel, Henry." Regina's head lifted at the sound of a knock on the front door. She turned her attention back to him as she carefully lowered herself from her perch by the sink. Her teeth bared at the pain that had to thrash her feet but she made no sound of discomfort. "I raised you better than that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Henry was suddenly angry, made more so when he realised his mother was leaving bloody footprints on the white tiles as she walked away from him. She didn't even turn to look at him when she spoke.

"It means you've chosen your side and it's not mine."

Henry could only stare as she left him alone in the kitchen.

He was left floundering for a long moment before he jumped down off the stool and followed the red footprints past the foyer and the stairs to the front door in time to see Regina open it on Emma.

"Miss Swan." Regina's voice was devoid of emotion and Emma paled when she saw the older woman's face.

"Your face…"

"You are late for that conversation." Regina cut it off before it could go anywhere. "Henry hasn't eaten yet. I trust you can muster a bowl of cereal from the kitchen for him?"

"Uh…yeah, sure." Emma cautiously stepped inside when Regina released the door and turned her back, walking back into the house. The footprints she left in her wake didn't go unnoticed by the deputy. Emma cast a wild eyed glance at Henry.

Really? Regina had cut up her feet and blackened her eye to gain sympathy from Henry and the town. Great, just great, she kept underestimating the damn psychopath.

"Mom?" Henry twisted when Regina walked with controlled precision past him. Deliberately not limping. "Where are you going?"

"Bed." Regina answered shortly. "I'm going to take the day."

Regina gripped the banister of the stairs with a white knuckled hand and sucked in a bracing breath. She hauled with her arm and her jaw clenched when all her weight was put on one lacerated foot. She blanched, but made no sound of pain, and repeated the process. Torturing herself up another step.

"We're not done talking." Henry reached through the bars of the railing on the staircase and gripped his mother by the ankle. "Somebody hurt you."

"Henry," the word seethed from Regina with brutal control, her eyes bright with pain of every kind imaginable, "if your curse breaks and I am the Evil Queen, what do you think is going to happen to me?"

Henry blinked.

"I…"

"In the Grimm version of Snow White, the evil stepmother was made to wear red hot shoes of iron and dance at Snow and Prince Charming's wedding until she was dead from burns, pain, exhaustion or perhaps even their insipid company."

"Regina!" Emma couldn't believe the venom coming from the woman and directed at Henry of all people. Regina had never been cruel to Henry in that way. Henry was the only person –at all- who the Mayor treated like a human being.

"What? You mean you haven't researched this?" Regina arched a brow at Emma. "I would have thought, as a bounty hunter, that you'd be familiar with researching the criminals you brought to justice. If you are going to play along with my son, the least you can do is give it your all."

"He doesn't mean…"

"Yes." Regina's voice was icy steel. Cold, sharp, brittle and ready to break. "He does."

"I don't want you to…I wouldn't let that happen." Henry gulped, eyes wide. "That's not what I meant when I said…"

"You'd prefer a hanging?" Regina looked down at Henry, her bruise blackened face a mask of apathy. "Perhaps being drawn and quartered. Maybe even torn apart by four…well, pickups would be more fitting here I would think."

"Regina that's enough!" Emma stepped forward and sliced her hand through the air. "I don't know what the hell you're playing at but that's sick!"

"Mom, I don't want you to die."

"Then why paint me the villain?" Regina focussed on Henry again. "Villains die, Henry. It is their lot. Think of that the next time you place that black crown upon my brow. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have wounds to lick in peace." Regina turned back to the stairs and dragged herself up them, ignoring the worried glances on her back as she disappeared into the upper floors of the manor.

Henry, gaping, watched her go. She had never…he hadn't meant…gosh, had he?

Every story, every movie, every fable, myth and legend featured a gory demise for the villain of the piece. Henry had been calling his mom evil for so long that…well, he hadn't thought beyond what would happen when the curse broke. People would be angry –as they should- but that meant they'd come after her and Henry was just ten.

Emma might side with him, maybe, but she was just a deputy. One woman, an outsider, Snow and Charming…he couldn't imagine they'd be in favour of saving Regina from her apparent just desserts.

"Emma, I didn't mean it. Not like that."

"She knows that, kiddo, she's just pushing your buttons." Emma squeezed his shoulders. "She likes to do that."

"Not to me." Henry looked a little broken. "She lies sometimes –a lot of the time- but she does it because…I dunno, she doesn't want me to break the curse. She's never –NEVER- mean to me. Not like that. Not like she is with other people."

"Listen," Emma folded her arms over her chest, "I don't know what she told you, but I didn't hit her nearly hard enough to do that kind of damage to her face and…"

"YOU hit her?!" Henry almost screamed it. "It was you?! Why would you do that?!"

"She hit me first!" Emma defended herself and realised how that sounded. The way Regina looked compared to the distinct lack of bruising on Emma didn't really speak to her defence. That wily bitch. Henry might be convinced she was never cruel to him, but Emma knew better. She wasn't blinded by misguided loyalty.

"You're the Saviour! You're not supposed to be like that!"

"Really?" Emma planted her hands on her hips. "Think about what you're saying, Henry. If I really was the Saviour, I'd have to do a lot worse than punch her in the jaw –which was ALL I did- to defeat her. Judging by what the book says about her. If the Evil Queen had all her powers, I think it'd be a pretty short fight and not in my favour."

Henry frowned and shook his head sharply.

"No. There has to be another way. Mom isn't going to die and you're not going to kill her."

"Well, I knew that." Emma muttered.

"New plan; Operation…Wolf. Find out who hurt my mom and why." Henry nodded vigorously to himself. "We're gonna need a list of suspects."

"We don't have a sheet of paper big enough." Emma said mostly to herself.

"You gonna help or not?!" Henry demanded fiercely.

"Yeah, of course, but it's gonna have to wait until after school. We're going to be late." Emma decided to give up on trying to talk sense into him. She should have thought she'd have learned by now but apparently not.

"Operation Wolf comes first." Henry got that mulish look on his face. "We gotta go to the police station and file a report with the Sheriff. I want the guy that hurt mom caught and locked up."

"No way, Regina would skin me alive if I let you bunk school." Emma shook her head and frogmarched Henry towards the kitchen.

"But…!"

"Nu-uh," Emma shook her head sharply, "breakfast and then school. We can talk to Graham after."

"You promise?"

"Sure thing, kid." Emma decided not to tell him that he might be visiting the good Sheriff in the hospital.

At the Hospital

"Really, I'm fine." The Huntsman, Graham, fended off Doctor Whale. "I'm discharging myself, going home."

"Sheriff, you were complaining of chest pains last night. According to Miss Swan, they were so severe you collapsed. I don't think you should…"

"I have the right to discharge myself." Graham's voice hardened.

With his memories returned, he now remembered why he disliked people so much. Pushy and stinking and in his way. He muscled down the urge to stuff Whale into the nearest trashcan and mustered a civil tone instead.

"I'll be going now. If I feel ill again, I'll be sure to return." Graham pulled on his jacket.

Not that he would have to, because he was going to get his heart back from Regina. She had to have it here, that was the only thing that could hurt like that and it was the queen's hand closing around the heart she had taken from him.

"Fine, but on your own head be it." Whale shoved a warning finger in Graham's face and had no idea how close he came to having it bitten off.

Graham had been raised by wolves, after all.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Something in Graham's voice must have filtered through the doctor's thick skull because he backed off suddenly.

"Right, well, feel better, I suppose."

"Your well wishes are appreciated." Graham growled and forced the doctor to get out of his way when he left the room.

Graham was forced to smile and nod his way out of the hospital but desperately avoided stopping for small talk. He had places to be, after all.

He made it all the way to the front doors of the hospital before he was harassed again.

"Graham!" Emma grabbed his arm and jerked back when he shook her away, rounding on her with teeth bared. He did not like to be touched.

"Emma." He forced himself to soften when she blinked in confusion. Of course, she didn't know what was going on. Well, she didn't believe at any rate. "What?"

"You should be in the hospital! You nearly had a heart attack."

"I feel fine."

"But you shouldn't…"

"I. Feel. Fine." Graham couldn't keep the growl from his voice.

"Oh…okay." Emma frowned but backed off a little. "I'll take you home then."

"Fine. I need a shower anyway." Graham had been overjoyed the night before, to get his memories back, to know who he was, to know he could fix what was wrong with him.

But fixing what was wrong with him involved going back to Regina and –if she still had his heart- he'd never get close enough to do a thing.

Still, he had to try.

"How's your face?" Graham glanced at Emma, trying to remember what he should do since he was supposed to like people.

This was bizarre. Two lives running riot through his head. It was disorientating, but he could already feel himself adjusting, realigning.

"Fine, better than Regina's."

Graham looked up at her sharply.

"You've seen her this morning?"

"Yeah, I picked up Henry for school. He wants to talk to you, by the way."

"About his book?" Graham could have sounded more enthused by the prospect of having his eyeteeth pulled with a pair of rusty pliers.

"No…about Regina."

Graham frowned.

"She's…she looks like shit. Someone worked her over after we left her. I thought it was self-inflicted at first but she seems…different."

"Different?"

"I dunno, she always seems vicious and cruel but today…she was mean to Henry."

Graham frowned. It could be argued that he knew the queen better than anyone. He had been working under her for…well, for a long time in one way or another. He knew her mercurial moods, knew how vicious she could be. He also knew from this world how she doted on the boy. She loved him –or as close to it as she could come to it with her blackened heart. She was cruel to everyone…everyone save Henry.

"To Henry? You're sure?"

"She told him what he meant when he called her the Evil Queen, when he said he wanted nothing more than to break the curse…she said it meant that he wanted her dead. She started talking about being torn apart by pickups. It was pretty brutal." Emma hunched her shoulders and stuffed her hands in her pockets. "The kid was pretty shaken up."

"So…what do you want me to do?" Graham rested a hand on top of the yellow VW Bug while Emma wrestled the keys out of her pocket.

"Well, she has been worked over. That is a crime, even if she is a psycho." Emma shrugged. "That and…she knows you pretty well, she may actually tell you what happened."

"No she won't."

"Graham she might have been…" Emma stalled and looked away. "She was beat up. Regina's no angel but nobody deserves that. You're the sheriff it's kind of in your job description to stop this kind of stuff from happening."

Graham growled and looked away from her.

Oh yes, that was his job now, to ride herd on people and save them from their own selfish problems. By all rights, he should still be a hunter, a hunter of criminals…had Regina seen fit to bring him a criminal population worthy of his skill.

No.

Instead he had been given the occasional bar brawl and parking ticket. Hardly worth his time.

There had been a time when he had hunted with wolves, when he had run naked and wild under the moon. Torn down animals with nothing save his teeth, his strength, and the company of his lupine siblings. The forest had been in his bones, the chase in his blood, the thrill had been the light in his eyes.

Now?

Now he was a lackey, his clothing might have changed but his purpose remained the same; her pet.

No more.

"Alright, I'll go to her." Graham turned back to Emma, his eyes bleak. "See what she has to say."

"Good." Emma nodded and gave a lopsided smile. "Henry will be glad. He's ready to fetch pitchforks and light torches over this."

"I want to shower first." Graham wanted to be out of her company more.

The Graham part of him had liked her, liked her vulnerability, liked her humour, her softness. The Huntsman was a different animal entirely. A wolf in human skin. Wolves had no need for softness unless that of a mother for her cub and –even then- that was tempered in the fierce maternal protection any she-wolf worth her fur could mete out. Humour? Wolves had humour, but hardly something that would be understood by humans. Wolves knew nothing of vulnerability, for the weak were taken by the forest.

Graham had risen to be the Alpha of his pack, his human shape meaning little to his family, and alphas chose alphas. Emma was not an alpha.

Simple as.

"Right." Emma shifted awkwardly and looked away from his gaze first.

She missed the way his jaw clenched at the submission.

How…boring.

"Well, I'll drive you home then." Emma held her breath a moment and gathered herself. Graham's hand clenched on the door whilst he waited for her to lather herself up into opening her damn mouth. "About last night…"

"It won't happen again."

Emma blinked and her blue eyes darted to his dark.

"Oh, uh, good…then." She smiled tightly and Graham shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Graham might have been charming and affable with everyone –biddable- but he felt distinctly like the Huntsman right then and the Huntsman was none of those things.

"Good." Graham nodded.

"Uh…hop in then." Emma threw open her door and dived into the car. Graham waited while she leaned over to flip the lock open. He clambered inside and grimaced when his knees were nearly up to his ears in the cramped space.

He hated this damn car.

The Manor

Regina sat on her couch in the living room, tumbler of cider in one hand, staring at her bandaged feet.

She had finally managed to get them taped back together so she looked less like some macabre jigsaw puzzle and they might actually heal right.

She had slept little, despite having lain in bed for most of the day, and had finally given up and soothed herself a little by cleaning the bloody footprints she had left on the carpet. She had been surprised to find the clumsy attempts at cleaning on the kitchen tile, she suspected Henry's involvement, but it mattered little.

Regina sipped her cider and savoured the burn against her split lip.

She had always liked cleaning. Especially after one of her crimes. She did like the messy ones and perhaps it was because she enjoyed cleaning them up. It was part of her ritual. She destroyed, massacred, and then cleaned everything away afterward.

Disposed of bodies –burning them usually- cleaning the weapon she had used, mopping up the blood, wiping away the tear stains, setting the furniture to rights.

Like nothing had ever happened.

The person causing her problem disappeared and the scene replenished as if they had never existed in the first place. No loose ends. A job well done. Nice and neat. Ordered. In control.

Nothing about this was under control.

"Graham."

She spoke before she had even fully processed his presence.

She was almost surprised when he stepped around the couch and into her view. He towered over her, staring down at her with almost black eyes and she saw. The wildness, the fire. No matter how long she'd had him, how she'd used him, she'd never been able to snuff that flame. Never been able to own him completely.

"Huntsman." She corrected herself.

"Majesty." Graham, the Huntsman, whoever, prowled around the coffee table and sat with dangerous precision on the seat opposite her couch. He watched her with a gimlet unblinking stare. "So you are aware."

"Of course." Regina nodded to the cider decanter on the coffee table. "Help yourself."

"A little early is it not?"

Regina shrugged.

"Henry worries for you."

"No he doesn't." Regina snorted and drank from her cider again.

"He does."

"What do you care?" She lanced him with a look, unhappy with the line of the conversation.

"I like the lad." Graham shrugged. "He can't help being your son."

"As he has been so willing to point out; he is not my son." Regina bit out, knowing that was what he had wanted to hear. To stick the knife in her weak spot. She wondered if he had any idea that he was the other chink in her armour.

The chink right over her heart.

Stupid woman, she berated herself again.

"He still worries."

"He will forget in time." Regina drank from her cider again. It was quickly going to her head. It had a kick at the best of times, but she had been without food for the entire day. Not a good combination.

The Huntsman frowned at her and tilted his head. His eyes dropped to her neck briefly and she nearly smirked. He could call her evil all he wanted –and she was evil, she knew that- but she wasn't the only stone cold killer in the room. She, at least, had never torn out a man's throat with her teeth.

"It was one of your rages." His voice was quiet, his eyes ticking over her injuries. "You did do this to yourself."

"Swan inquires." Regina rolled her eyes and turned to look out the window. "Insipid twit."

"She's a good person."

"More fool her."

The Huntsman's chin tilted down and he looked at her from under hooded eyes. She couldn't help the thrill that raced through her at such a dark and dangerous look.

He could kill her, she realised suddenly. Quickly, easily, effortlessly even. With his bare hands. He could leap across that table and literally tear her head from her shoulders and there would be next to nothing she could do about it. She had no magic to her name, he was bigger, broader and stronger than her and she'd gotten lazy. Twenty eight years behind a desk. She wasn't fat, but being slim and being fit are two very different things.

All this time, all their relationship –if you could call it that- she had been in control. She had been the stronger between the two of them. She had been the one to call the shots. When to summon him, when to send him away…no longer. He was stronger. She loved him. He held all the cards.

The sound the tables made as they turned grated thunderously through her head so loudly that she shivered.

"Someone treading on your grave, majesty?" The Huntsman smirked, enamoured with the prospect of dancing on her grave himself probably.

"It's cold in here." Regina lied smoothly.

"You've never felt the cold in the past."

"On the contrary, I feel cold every day." Regina summoned a smile from somewhere and they measured each other with long glances.

This veil of civility couldn't last. Not with her teetering on the edge and not with him going slowly rabid for the return of his heart. Emotion and pain bled from them in streamers and clouds so thick and fast it seemed to make Regina's ears pop with the pressure.

"Say what you came to say." She spoke quietly.

"Where is it?"

"Not here."

"Liar."

"Not so. Your heart is the one thing keeping me alive right now. Without it, I'm defenceless."

"Not a day in your life."

"You know that's not true." Something stark flashed in her eyes and Graham looked away from her.

He did know that.

Back in the Enchanted Forest, before she'd ever heard of the curse of curses, he had been her right hand man. He had spent the most time with her, not just in her bedchamber but at court, during meetings of state and –often- she'd had him shadow her when she walked the gardens of the palace. He had been one of the few allowed to stand in the shadow of her apple tree without reprimand and she had often spoken to him. The same way someone speaks mostly to themselves but knows that their pet is listening, even if it didn't understand.

The Huntsman had understood, every word, and he'd seen early on that –as deeply as she had wounded him- she was so far from whole herself it might have been laughable had it not been so tragic.

"Will you give it back to me?" Graham looked at her hard then and he measured her every move. The hitch in her breath when his eyes met hers, the way her fingers tightened on the tumbler of cider in her hand and he knew- when she spoke- she was telling the truth.

"I don't know." Regina inhaled a heaving breath and inspected her drink. "You will believe this or you won't; but living here has changed me. This curse…is a curse to all. It cost me dearly and it costs me still. The only things I have left are my life and Henry and even one of those slips from me now…if I return your heart to you, there is nothing to stop you from turning on me or Henry. For you have always known where to strike the killing blow, Huntsman."

"Henry has nothing to do with us, you have always made that clear and I will abide by those wishes even now. If you return my heart to me." The Huntsman spoke evenly despite the thrill that went through him at the prospect of being complete once more. He had dreamed of it for years, years and years, and now it was finally a possibility.

It was heady stuff.

"And me, Huntsman? What will you do to me once I return it to you?" Regina tilted her head and he saw she was right. She had changed.

The Evil Queen still sat opposite him but there was also the Mayor and the Mother…as well as a very tired and broken woman. Regina was all of those things and more and –as horrific as she was, as dangerous as she could be- she would always be fascinating too.

"I don't want to kill you." Graham was surprised when he realised it was the truth.

She frowned at them, not seeing the lie either but still unable to believe it.

"I will return it to you on one condition."

"I'll not kill for you, not again."

She smiled, a sad smile, and shook her head.

"I do not ask for me. The curse is breaking and –with it- this life I had carved out for myself here. Everything is breaking down and when it does finally crumble…there will be an angry mob out there with my name on it. I cannot cross the town border, I am as trapped here as everyone else, but I imagine I shall be dealt with fairly swiftly."

"Your price?"

"Protect Henry." Regina stared at her bandaged feet for a long moment. "He may not love me anymore, but I'm still his mother, I will gladly die for him…when I'm gone, I pass that to you. Protect him with your life, Huntsman. As you did his grandmother, fly in the face of all costs and consequences and keep him safe."

"Henry will hardly be in danger from the people of this town. He's the son of the Saviour."

"And also that of the Evil Queen. Thanks to my recent action, people here believe him one step down from a raving lunatic, there will be those that would believe in nurture over nature and it would be those that would do him harm."

"You really…you ask me to save him and not you? Truly?"

"Don't get me wrong, Huntsman," her grin had a gleam of cruelty to it then, "I'll not go without a fight but I am fully aware that the only thing I'll be able to do is take one or two of them with me." She chuckled. "I don't even know how to use a gun."

Graham said nothing, he couldn't think of how to put everything he felt into words. He didn't even know the full extent of it yet.

"I would be bound to your loyalty even after your death." He said instead.

"You would be bound to Henry, not I." Regina shrugged a shoulder. "That is my price."

"How can I trust you?"

She snorted and sipped at her cider.

"You can't. I am the Evil Queen and will forever serve my own purpose, it just so happens that now both our purposes may be joined. Swear fealty to my son and I shall give you your heart back."

"I'd be putting my life on the line for nothing."

"Not for nothing." Regina snapped. "For Henry."

"They won't attack him."

"Then why does it matter to you? You'll have your heart back."

"Because if there's no real reason that I can see, you're working your own agenda and I'll not be party to your schemes again. I'm done with being your lackey."

Regina chuckled. Of course he wouldn't believe her. No sane man would. Why should he trust her after all these years?

"Then this conversation is over."

"It's my heart."

"Which does not come without a price." Regina bit right back at him. "I have made mine known, think on if you're willing to pay it."

She glanced away from him and he melted away from her whilst her eyes were averted, as any good hunter would.

She felt his presence in the room a long time after he was gone.

What the hell was she going to do?

Graham's House

Graham looked so peaceful when he slept.

Regina had always thought that.

No matter what she did to him or how she used him, when he slept, when she allowed him to sleep at her side, she had always watched him and she had always envied him that peace. It would seem , no matter how much she thought she owned him, he could always escape her into his dreams.

Regina melted forward, out of the shadows, and stood over his bed.

This was madness, stupidity of the highest order. He'd come for her. Once he had his will, he'd kill her. Most likely cut out her heart the way she'd wanted him to kill Snow. It would be fitting, she supposed. What Henry wanted. The Evil Queen dead and gone.

It had only hit her that morning, exactly what Henry meant every time he told her he wanted the Evil Queen defeated…because that's what it would take. She would never give up, never give in, they'd have to kill her to get her to give up her son. He could love her again…couldn't he?

Couldn't he?

He could, couldn't he?

Regina gulped, her eyes burning.

She wasn't just losing her son, she had already lost him. She had…she had nothing. Not Henry, not Graham, not her happy ending. The curse was breaking, it was a matter of time before everything came crashing down and…and she no longer cared.

What did it matter really?

She had betrayed Daniel, she loved another. She had opened herself to all that pain, all that misery, yet again. Henry had his birth mother now, Graham was lost to her as well, now that he knew who she was, who he was.

Wouldn't it be nice? For it to finally be over. To finally rest, to sleep, to not be subjected to the torture of her own broken heart. To be…free.

Regina reached up, tucking her hair behind her ears and leaning over, Graham's bed. She looked down at him, memorising his face, knowing that he would be her murderer, one way or the other. One hand dropped, delving into her pocket and she flinched violently when his eyes flashed open and his hand manacled her wrist all in one motion.

Graham roared sitting up and wrenching with his hand on her arm.

Regina yelped when she was sent flying across the bed. She screamed when something cracked in her wrist when it twisted and something popped in her shoulder when she hit the floor and was sent tumbling.

Graham threw back his sheets and hurled himself from his bed, snarling and terrible. His eyes glinted in the dark and something metal flashed in his hand.

Regina winced her way to a sitting position, her entire arm was numb. She gasped when his hand fisted in her hair and he dragged her upright. She noticed in passing that he was completely naked. Of course he was, that was how he slept.

The knife was shockingly cold when he jammed it into her middle.

And that's it, kids.

The rest of this story goes up to the MA rating and I've been censored so I'm off to Archive of Our Own to post there where there is less bullshit.

See my profile for more details.

Sorry for the inconvenience.