Authors Note: Well this escalated quickly. Here's where things start getting messy and pretty gruesome. Character death, sorry everyone. You'll come to find this story is a little Games-of-Thrones-ish in where no character is safe, and it will be an unrelenting and unforgiving series of events. I apologize for taking the liberty in killing characters you may love in hindsight.

CHAPTER TWO

Emma woke face down on Regina's bed, a small puddle of drool at her cheek. This was the sort of day that she wondered why she ever drank. It must be the devil in her that willingly subjects herself to such torture as a tequila hangover.

She groaned as she rolled onto her back and wiped her mouth with her sleeve, covering her eyes with her arm to try to block out the sun. Why was it so bright?!

"Here,"

She peeked out under her arm to see a composed Regina sitting at the edge of the bed on the far side, holding a glass of sweet, sweet hydrating water out as an offering.

"What kind of demon are you?" Emma said as she sat up to take the glass and graciously drank a great gulp of water.

"The kind that drinks water between my alcoholic beverages," Regina retorted, standing. She smoothed her skirt and blouse as she stood. She had obviously been up for a while, for she was dressed in clean clothes, showered, makeup on, and was ready to face the day. "It's three o'clock. I'm cooking dinner for Robin and I, you're more than welcome to join, you and Killian both."

Emma pulled herself up to regard Regina, still squinting through her headache. Luckily she wasn't nauseous, but it did feel like there were seven dwarves happily mining away at the inside of her skull.

"Yeah," she called over her shoulder as she made her way to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face to wake herself up. "I'll send him a text the once."

Dinner was delicious, as would be expected of Regina; a perfectly cooked meal of lamb spiced with rosemary, garlic and thyme, with scallops and shrimp on the side. The vegetables were soft and had been cooked in honey and cracked pepper to add both savory and sweet flavors.

Killian burped as he sat back in his chair, rubbing his stomach and nodded at Regina in appreciation. "She knows how to cook," He complimented.

She winced at his poor table manners, but forced a smile. Robin made a noise of agreement as he took hold of his girlfriend's hand, gently pressing his lips to her fingers.

"Gorgeous, as always," he said. "And the food was amazing too."

Regina reached out a hand to cup his cheek for a moment as a thank you before she began to pick up everyone's dishes, transporting them to the sink to be washed. She fussed around the kitchen as she tidied the mess of their meals. She refused to let her guests clean up after themselves; she prided herself in being a gracious host. She listened to her lover chat amicably with Killian and Emma about trivial things, the men both sipping their rum and ginger occasionally. Emma of course decided to go with the hair of the dog that bit her, and was slowly enjoying the red wine her and Regina were both drinking.

Hearty laughter occasionally rang out from the dining room, bringing a muted smile to the mayor's face. She enjoyed the sound; too long had her house been quiet and uninviting. She reminisced sadly on the days where she and Henry would sit in silence, him feeling like he was trapped and herself feeling like he might disappear at any moment. But she learned that love was like a helpless bird, it couldn't be held too tightly or it would be crushed and forced to be let go. It took her a long time to learn how to hold onto love properly.

She looked up to find Robin's eyes on her and she smiled lovingly at him. For all the ups and downs they experienced, her heart still fluttered when he looked at her as he was now. He may be somewhat distrustful because of his own insecurities about their relationship, and over-protective sometimes, but she knew that it was because he truly cared. He was emulating the life his parents led, with the dutiful wife and the bread-making husband, which was all he had known of marriage and relationships. He was getting better at allowing her to be more independent as she needed to be, but they were both still learning how to be together day by day.

Regina thought about herself and Marian, and found it somewhat humorous that Robin was attracted to strong willed women when he was not always entirely sure what to do with them.

A slight movement in the bushes outside the window caught Regina's attention. She could just barely make out in the darkness a pair of eyes peering in at them. She shouted in alarm, causing her guests to jump at the ready.

That was the thing about heroes, they were always prepared, apparently.

Killian drew his sword and charged out the front door first, followed by Robin with his bow. Emma was close behind them with her gun in her hand, while Regina took up the rear, fireballs gleaming in both palms of her hand. They chased the figure out onto the front lawn where it staggered and hit the pavement hard, tripping up over a hedge.

"Wait!" Emma cried, "It's just a kid!"

They approached the small intruder slowly, her young face illuminated by Regina's magic fire.

"Grace?" Regina asked softly, moving closer to get a better look. She was unsure if the fireball was causing the flickering in the young girl's eyes or was it something else entirely. "What are you doing?"

Suddenly, faster than they could react, the girl lunged forwards and grabbed the knife from Hook's boot, swinging it wildly at them. Her hair was tangled and dirty, falling in her face and making her look manic. She snarled and growled as they tried to advance, slashing the air with the blade.

"He's here for you," She spat hatefully at them and waved the blade at them threateningly.

Emma cried out in horror at what young Grace did next. She took the blade to herself, slicing deep into her left shoulder and dragged it back and forth across her torso down to her right hip. The girl coughed blood and screamed in pain but it didn't stop her. They all looked on as the white of her ribs were exposed briefly as she sloughed off her own flesh. Then a flood of crimson gore surged from her wounds, and she slumped, her scream dying into a bone-chilling gurgle, as she fell in a bloody mess on top of her own entrails.