III

Title: The Only Thing with Persistence

A/N: Sorry for the length of time between updates. This chapter's a little bit longer than previous ones, if that redeems me at all. This also now makes the second of my Swan Queen stories in which I've referenced Star Wars. I am not even sorry.

Enjoy!

Abandoned. In a town she did not know, with no way of getting back to her car other than her own two feet. Emma scrubbed at her face with her hands, and fought the urge to break something. She doubted Madame Mills would appreciate finding one of her ceramic flowerpots shattered on the walk, no matter how wonderful the few seconds of post-destructive rage would feel. Sighing loud enough that it almost sounded like a frustrated scream, Emma just shook out her head, and resolved that she would have to walk. There was only one road to Regina's house, after all; it wasn't like she'd get lost.

And just as she took the first step off of the front porch, the distinct rumble of thunder pierced the silence around her, and the sky opened in a sudden downpour. The kind of downpour that instantly floods walkways and saturates through jeans and wifebeaters in mere seconds. And then Emma did scream.

"Really?" She glared up at the sky, as if daring it to continue so obviously pissing her off. It did so. Her second shout was drowned by another spectacularly loud burst of thunder. Defeated, she huddled back under the small covered porch, knowing she'd have to wait it out. She'd only brought the one pair of boots, after all, and there was no way in hell she'd be driving back to Boston in soaked-through leather.

Maybe it was better this way, anyway. She really didn't want to just give up on finding Henry just because his mother- and whatever else Regina Mills may have been, she was still Henry's mother- had told her to go. Emma Swan didn't give up on finding her targets. It wasn't the kind of person she was. She ran from everything else, but not her work. Not this time, anyway. She was connected to this kid. He'd been a part of her, once. Like hell she wasn't going to see this through.

She was just about to start banging loudly on the door and demand for Regina to let her come with her when the door in question suddenly opened. Regina stepped out, and Emma had to take pains to wipe the rainwater spray out of her eyes to make sure she was seeing clearly. Save for the face and hair, the woman before her seemed, at first glance, dramatically different than the one she'd been introduced to earlier.

Gone was the lingerie, the legs bare but for stockings, the small glimpses of lace amidst so much glorious skin. Henry's mother was now (sadly) completely covered, wearing a grey rain jacket that fell to mid-thigh, mostly hiding a black turtleneck, of all things. Emma had to fight down another feeling of disappointment. She was still wearing heels, Emma noted with amusement, but these were boots, probably ankle-length, though it was impossible to tell beneath the wide-legged brown pants. But no matter how much or how little she was wearing, it was obvious Regina exuded the same sense of sex appeal, power and 'don't fuck with me' attitude. Emma got the feeling she still did so when wearing nothing at all. And damn, was that a picture she really didn't need floating around her mind at the moment. She was supposed to be angry with her, after all.

When she finally seemed to noticing her, Regina did a double take, and frowned at her icily. "I thought I made it abundantly clear your help was unnecessary, Miss Swan." Her voice was oddly flat, but still perfectly audible over the din of the storm.

Rolling her eyes, Emma didn't even bother craning her neck to look up at her. "You did. Got it, thanks," Emma muttered, pulling the lapels of her jacket closer around herself. Even zipped all the way up, the spray of the storm was still getting to her. "Just waiting for the rain to let up a bit before I walk back to town." She knew a ride into town would be out of the question, so she didn't ask. She had to find another way of getting the older woman to let her help find Henry. "Don't suppose you'd point me in the direction of the impound lot?" First step of manipulating people: let them think they're getting what they want.

Regina bristled, glancing around as Emma began speaking, apparently just now noticing that Emma did not have a vehicle stashed anywhere. "Why would I-" And then the darker woman stopped, her head tilting slightly to the side. Something Emma couldn't quite place flashed in her eyes- an emotion so fleeting it was impossible to determine. "Your car was impounded?" Regina's voice was just the tiny bit softer, perhaps less annoyed on a microscopic level.

Emma chose this moment to finally get up, hands instantly finding her pockets. "That's generally what happens when you spend the night in jail."

"Why were you-" Regina began, but shook her head, her hand raising as if to clear the question from the air. "Never mind. I don't have time for this, Miss Swan." She turned, locking the door behind her, and began to simply brush by the blonde as if she wasn't there.

Emma detested being dismissed more than almost anything in the world. She'd spent her entire childhood being overlooked, shoved out of the way, or flat out ignored. Never again. Her face hardened. Time to bring out the big guns. "If Henry is at his... castle," Emma only hesitated a little on the word, "are you going to call his father?" Second step: hit them where it hurts.

Success. Regina whirled on her, eyes blazing with such ferocity that Emma almost wanted to step back. But she held firm, meeting Regina's gaze as the older woman practically spat at her: "His what?"

She didn't back down, posture almost threatening as she took a step closer. "Mr. Gold. Are you going to call Mr. Gold?"

"And why the hell would I do that, Miss Swan?" Regina's hands slid into her pockets, a gesture which managed to bespeak both nonchalance and protection. She tossed her head, moisture from the still-pounding rain beginning to mist her hair. "Don't let this morning's conversation fool you, dear. Gold could hardly give a damn about Henry on a good day." Her voice towards the end sounded almost unbearably bitter.

Tilting her head to the side, Emma took one more step, too close for comfort, really. But she refused to let this woman think she had any power over her. Gaze level with Regina's, she asked the question that had been on her mind since she first met the Mayor. "Then why the hell does he have custody?" Third step: give no ground.

Emma knew the signs of having breached a painful subject all too easily: Regina's eyes closed and then reopened quickly. Her lip curled, and when the older woman spoke again, her voice was lower than normal; dark and angry as the storm above them. "...Because he knew I wanted him."

And without needing to be told anything else, several pieces finally clicked into place. Emma could almost picture the scene in the courtroom, (god knows she'd been in enough) almost hear the exchange that had to have taken place. Regina, arguing tooth and nail for custody of her son, fighting with every considerable weapon she had. And Gold, letting her do it, letting her think she was winning, while all throughout the divorce proceedings he'd kept his cards hidden until the end, springing his influence on the court and snatching away the only thing Regina had wanted right from under her nose. Leaving her powerless to do anything about it. And Regina Mills, she could already tell, detested being powerless.

Shaking her head, Emma sighed, and looked almost pityingly at the other woman. "He really does control this town, huh?" she whispered.

A scowl flashed on Regina's features, and she couldn't tell if it was from her words or from her perceptions. It melted quickly, replaced by, oddly, a smirk. The older woman fished in her purse, pulling out her keys once again and remotely unlocking the door before beginning to head towards it. "Get in."

The words passed by Emma's ear, and she couldn't help but think the rain was playing tricks on her. She hadn't gotten through all the Steps yet. "...Wait, what?"

Opening the door of the older black muscle car, Regina got in the driver's seat before glaring back at the woman still huddled under her porch. "Do you really want to walk to the impound lot, dear? It's on the way to the castle," she yelled over the rainstorm.

Hesitantly, Emma neared the car, water drenching her hair almost instantly, but she couldn't make her stunned feet move any faster. "Well, no, but- ...why are you suddenly helping me?"

Regina only smiled. "Just get in the car, Miss Swan."

She did.

The drive was spent in silence, and Emma was almost glad. Though a tiny part of her almost... wanted them to argue the entire way. The rain seemed to let up as they drove, and in very little time at all they arrived at the drying impound, which was, Emma learned, less of a lot and more of a parking space outside the local mechanic/towing company. The sight of her dependable little yellow bug, even with the annoying boot on its wheel, filled her with something very close to satisfaction.

"You drive an old Volkswagon beetle?" Regina asked, eyebrow arching as she put her own old muscle car in 'park.' "You're braver than I thought."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks, Princess Leia," Emma grumbled, unbuttoning her seat quickly. She'd heard all the insults people could throw about her little deathtrap, but she drove it anyway. It was hers. And she was more than ready to get the hell out of this car, find Henry, and then get the hell out of the town.

A cocked eyebrow and an amused smile was the only response as Regina released her own belt and stepped out of the car.

Emma's brow furrowed, slightly thrown by that action, and she quickly got out to follow the older woman. "You're... coming in?"

"Absolutely," Regina answered enigmatically, and held the door to the office open for the blonde.

"Uh... okay."

She had no idea why Regina had insisted on coming in. While Emma had demanded the return of her car from the mechanic- Michael, she learned- Regina merely hung back, peering through the glass from the tiny office into the garage itself, only looking over every so often with a pointed glare in her eyes.

She also seemed to make Michael nervous. So much so that when he went to get the keys for the boot, Emma turned and asked none-too-politely if Regina might want to wait outside. To her ever-growing confusion, the older woman acquiesced.

When Emma finally left the office to head toward her freshly de-booted car, Regina was still outside waiting. She blinked, bewildered. "He, uh, waived the fee."

Regina merely nodded, turning back to look at the owner through the dirtied windows, and gave the mechanic a smile. "Of course he did." Emma's look of confusion only intensified, and Regina's smirk only grew. "You went in with me, dear."

Confusion still reigned, until Emma put two and two together. Her eyes widened. "...He's one of your ...clients?" Emma asked, hoping she was guessing correctly and not about to severely offend the other woman. Not that she'd normally mind so much, but Regina had just saved her a few hundred dollars... that kind of thing was big in her book.

She needn't have worried; Regina only flashed her that same smile she'd given when she told Emma to get in her car. "Now that you're fully equipped to leave my town, I'm going to get my son now, Miss Swan. Enjoy the drive back to Boston." And with nothing more, the brunette moved to climb back in her car.

Emma bit her lip to keep from arguing. What the hell had all that been about?And then her own voice resounded back in her head: 'He really does control this town, doesn't he?'

Her eyes widened.

Power.

Regina was not without it, in this town.

She didn't have time to consider it, though. Regina was dismissing her again. She wanted, desperately, to have a reason to call her back, to refuse to let her find Henry without her. She never gave up on anything easily. And she was having trouble thinking of a reason. With a sigh, she walked towards her own vehicle and pulled her keys out of her pocket. And then she saw it: Henry's book, still on her passenger seat. "...You gotta be kidding me." Grinning, she grabbed the book, and ran after Regina.

She caught her before she'd started to drive away, and met dark eyes through the window of the car. Regina glared at her, and for a moment, she didn't think she'd roll the window down. But she did. "Henry left this in my car." Emma's voice was almost too excited.

If Regina recognized the book, she didn't outwardly show it, though her gaze may have rested on it for a few long seconds before she glanced back at the blonde, extending her hand for it through the window. "...I'll return it to him, then. ...Thank you."

"Wait! If...if Henry is there... Let me say goodbye to him?" Emma made her eyes impossibly big.

Regina's eyelids lowered. "And why the hell should I allow that?"

"...Please?"

Whether it was the word itself, or if the sad puppy-dog face she pulled somehow reminded the dark-haired woman of Henry, Emma never knew. But she saw anger melt away into that same almost-pained expression cross her face, before Regina gave a brief nod, and inclined her head towards the passenger seat.

The drive was, again, silent. Emma couldn't help wonder where exactly this 'castle' of Henry's was. She also couldn't help study the book in her arms a little more intently. She cracked it open while Regina drove, flipping through and glancing idly at the pictures. It was a beautiful old book, really. Despite its obvious age, the pictures were still vibrant, the lines crisp as if they'd been etched not long ago at all. It was easy to see why Henry was so taken with it. Even she found herself getting engrossed in studying the details, the pads of her fingers almost reverently tracing over the faces of Snow White and her Prince Charming. Her parents, if Henry was to be believed, and she shook her head at the idea, and turned the page to look at the next picture.

She gasped. It was Regina. Or... no. The hair was too long, the makeup too severe. But she could definitely see where the comparison could be made. It was no wonder that Henry-

"...That's the book, isn't it?"

"Hmm?" Emma snapped the book shut, looking almost guilty as her reverie was broken.

"Henry's book," Regina elaborated, an interested look in her eyes, though they never left the road. She was smiling just a little, now. "The one that convinced him all of Storybrooke is cursed."

"...I guess so," said Emma. She wasn't sure what, but something was telling her that Regina somehow wasn't really supposed to know about the book. Her arms curled around it protectively.

A low chuckle. "No need to worry, Miss Swan. I'm not going to take it away."

Emma's lips pursed, her brow furrowing as she turned more towards the driver. But before she could say anything, the car pulled to a slow stop just in front of a greatly dilapidated old wooden playground. In the shape of a castle.

A relieved sigh escaped her lips. There, with his back to them, seated on the damp wood but perfectly dry himself, was Henry.

Regina's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, and Emma had to wonder how long it had been since she'd actually seen her son. And she felt again like she was encroaching. Regina clearly loved her son. And here she was, demanding a chance to say goodbye to a kid she barely knew, during time that the brunette so desperately wanted... needed with her son.

There was an awkward silence, and finally Regina tore her gaze away from her son long enough to quietly order: "Two minutes, Miss Swan."

Emma had to fight the sense of deja-vu. That had been one of the first things Regina had said to her. Instead, she just nodded and got out of the car, understanding a bit more now exactly what she'd asked of the other woman by pleading to accompany her. "...Thank you."

She didn't run to him, but she wanted to. "Hey kid."

He looked up when he saw her, but didn't say anything immediately. "Hey," he finally muttered.

"Left your book in my car," she stated obviously. When he didn't take it, she just set it down next to him, and then moved to sit on the other side. Crossing her arms as they sat in silence, Emma glanced back over at the dark car. The wind whipped around her head, and she turned back, looking not at Henry, but the waterfront.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, before Henry finally shifted uncomfortably and picked up the book, holding it to his chest. "Doesn't matter. You don't believe me about the curse anyway." He still wouldn't look at her. "You're leaving now, aren't you?"

Emma sighed. "Yeah, kid." She was realizing it herself, now. Henry already had a mother. One who loved him very much. Now that she'd found him, there was no reason for Emma to stay.

Henry tried his best to change her mind. "You know you're the only one who can break the curse," he began. "You're the only one who can bring back the happy endings." His intensity remained the same as it had in her car the previous evening, though his voice was much quieter now. He clutched the book as if it were a security blanket.

"Kid-" she sighed. "Whose happy ending do you really want? Yours? Your Mom's?" She almost said more, but she shook her head. Every kid with separated parents probably went through a phase like this. Let him believe in happy endings, if it made him happy. God knows he needed something to hope for. Her gaze moved to the car and the woman inside it. Her brain was still in overdrive, trying to come up with an explanation for her actions at the mechanic's while simultaneously counting down. One minute and eight seconds left. "You know …your Mom was really worried about you."

"Mom?" Henry's seemed almost surprised, and turned to look over his shoulder to look at her, too. An unreadable expression fell over his face. "No, she wasn't," he muttered, but didn't look back at Emma.

Emma was watching his face carefully, catching how his teeth worried at his lower lip. He did feel slightly guilty for running away then. Good. "Listen, kid-" she breathed at last, shaking her head.

"My name's Henry!" he hissed, whipping his head back to her. "I know you're trying hard not to like me, but you do. I can tell. ...You just don't believe me."

"Kid," she repeated, ignoring his little glare that was, she thought, obviously inspired by Regina. And ignoring the talk about the curse, too. "She was worried about you. Practically tore your dad's head off when he told her you were missing."

"He's not my dad!" This time the fire in his tone was definitely reminiscent of Regina. "He's evil! He made the curse!"

Emma ran a hand through her hair, trying not to get exasperated. "Henry, there is no curse. Mr. Gold is just the mayor."

Henry's lower lip trembled, and he looked down to the book in his arms. "He doesn't care about me. He only took me to hurt Mom."

It was Emma's turn to look away. "Yeah," she whispered quietly. "I know."

They sat in silence for another few seconds, and Emma knew her time was running short. Regina was already opening the door to her car. "...Listen, kid," she began.

"Henry." Regina's voice was quiet, layered so heavily with emotions Emma couldn't begin to sort any one of them out.

The ten-year-old's focus was now on putting his book in his bookbag, and Emma could tell he was fighting an impulse to get up and run, but which way, she couldn't be sure. "Just stay in town for a few days," he pleaded quietly, zipping his bag back up. "A week! Just... just see that I'm right about the curse, okay?"

Emma sighed, and closed her eyes. "A week, huh?" When she heard feet pounding on wood, she opened her eyes in alarm, hoping the kid hadn't bolted again. He wasn't running. He was walking, slowly, resignedly, towards Regina.

Regina ran the last few feet to him, heels be damned, and dropped down onto one knee, hugging her son fiercely. But it was Emma who felt the impact, forced aback as Henry's arms stayed resolutely at his sides. He refused to hug her back. His fists clenched and unclenched, though, Emma noted. Clearly, part of him still wanted to.

Swallowing roughly, Emma watched as Regina held him, smoothing his hair, dropping kisses on the crown of his head. With a lump rising in her throat, Emma turned away. It was long since time for her to leave.

A dangerous crunch of rubber on gravel, then, and a gleam of wet, black metal as another car pulled up beside mother and child. Emma's heart lurched up to her throat, and she quickly moved to cross the distance. She knew that car.

Regina knew it, too. She rose from her crouch. Where seconds before only love and concern had crossed her face, now only hate and ice remained. In a slow shift of her heels, she moved in front of her son, protecting him.

Emma smoothly stepped up beside her, which caused a slight shift in Regina's posture; she was shielding Henry from her, too. But the blonde wasn't surprised when Regina didn't even bother throwing a questioning glance her way. Her attention was once again on the bigger threat.

Out of the car, cane in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face, stepped Mr. Gold.