Three

"Don't touch me," Emma rasped, trying to sink deeper into the couch. She didn't trust Gold as far as she could throw him; and she was pretty sure she could chuck him across the town if she really wanted to. He was standing above her, scowling as she fought back every time he reached towards her. He wasn't even going to touch her, for heaven's sake. But Emma was sitting up now, albeit slumped down the couch, and she was scrambling backwards the best the couch would allow her every time his arm extended. Emma knew better. She didn't know what his problem was, but there was something about him that always made her want to snoop into things that were likely none of her business. She preferred answers, and she just wasn't comfortable not knowing what Gold was always up to.

"Sheriff, if you'll simply hold still, I may be able to actually assist you," Gold drawled, impatience clear in his tone. The look she gave him was pretty transparent; 'how the hell are you going to help me?' He didn't owe her an answer, nor did he even owe her what he was attempting to do for her at that moment. But clearly he had his own motifs anyway – he always did. These things were never for the benefit of someone else.

Emma wasn't having it. "Don't…touch me…" She felt like death, but the warning was clear in her tone; touch her, and she wasn't going to be so nice about it anymore. She could feel a little of her strength returning just with that thought. She never landed herself in a situation where she couldn't protect herself if she needed to. Not like she was afraid of Gold…she just didn't trust him.

And she would keep telling herself that.

"Where's Whale?" Emma asked for the third time since Gold had walked through the door. She was expecting a doctor, not a con artist. By the heavy sigh the man in front of her let out, Emma figured that he had absolutely no idea; he wasn't here to take over for him or to cut him off. He wanted something, and Emma just couldn't figure out what.

"Whale isn't going to be able to treat what I believe you have, Sheriff Swan," Gold finally said as he lowered his hand to his cane. His eyes were impatient, but very serious. It was disconcerting, especially considering Emma had no idea what he was talking about. "You'll find it in your best interest to let me verify."

Something in the way he said it…Emma suddenly wondered exactly whatever this was would do to her, if it was, indeed, what he was thinking it was. "Mary Margaret," Emma finally said, heavy eyes turning to look at her friend, who was looking between the two with a very protective frown, but a confused curiosity, mixed between it. Hearing her name, however, her eyes snapped to Emma's, and concern filled her gaze once again. "Could you make me cocoa?" Emma continued. She hated asking for things, but she needed her out of the room. At least until Whale got there. It wasn't that she didn't trust Mary Margaret – she basically told her everything anyway, save her recent encounters with Regina – but this was something she needed to speak to Gold about alone. She could tell it was one of those conversations that she was going to have to swallow very, very slowly.

Mary Margaret threw a cautious look at Gold, but Emma just shook her head weakly. "Please," she added, and the pixie haired woman sighed. With a nod, she turned and headed for the kitchen; disappearing a moment later. When Emma turned her attention back to Gold, he was simply looking at her with an arched brow.

"You're quite the stubborn one, aren't you?" Gold said before Emma could even question what the hell his problem was. "It may not make sense to you right away, Miss Swan, but I really must assess something. Something I believe you have."

"Are you going to tell me what it is if I have it?" Emma asked cautiously. "And what exactly are you going to do to figure it out?" She had a lot more questions than that, but something told her she wasn't getting answers if she threw them all out at once. Then again, she likely wasn't going to get any answers at all. Gold had a habit of doing things his way, and then never explaining himself. Even when he looked like a complete and total creep in the process.

"That depends," Gold said, surprising Emma with an answer to her first question. "As to what I'm going to do…I simply need you to hold out your arm. Palm up, fingers straight. I will not be touching you," he added when she opened her mouth to protest, a very sharp look overtaking Emma's features. "Do as I say." It was sharp; Emma didn't exactly agree with being spoken to like that. He was lucky her curiosity was suddenly getting the better of her.

Slowly, Emma extended her arm. It was a lot more effort than she had anticipated; her energy was still drained. She was a little more alert and aware than she was earlier, at least, but that came with growing up with the need to protect herself in untrustworthy situations. Still slow, Emma turned her arm over until her palm was facing the ceiling, then uncurled her fingers. Dull green stared at the suited man, waiting; holding her breath without even realizing what she was doing.

It was ridiculously short, and Emma didn't understand a damn thing that happened. Gold reached out his hand again, hovering his own palm over hers. His eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration. Emma watched him, brows lifting in slight disbelief; what the hell was he doing? He didn't seriously think that this was some kind of method of detecting illness, did he? He was devious, but she never took him for flat out insane. Maybe she needed to start considering the possibility. His hand traveled to hover over her wrist, near her pulse; he wasn't touching her, but she could feel the heat of his hand, and she almost knocked it away. But something about this had her far too intrigued for her own good.

After what must have only been thirty seconds, Gold dropped his hand back to the head of his cane and opened his eyes. The look he was giving her was what broke Emma's patience altogether; he was looking at her like she was some rare jewel he had just acquired, and she was NOT going to sit there and indulge him in his sick games. "What is going on, Gold?" she snapped coldly. For a minute there, her old fire was back.

"Allow Whale to examine you," Gold said simply. Emma frowned.

"So does this mean I don't have whatever you thought I did…?" She asked slowly. Not like she believed he even looked for anything in the first place. You don't find illness by hovering over someone's hand like a crazy person. What was this whole thing about?

"Forgive my intrusion," Gold said, completely ignoring Emma's question. He headed towards the door just as Mary Margaret came back with a cup of cocoa for Emma. As Emma took the mug with a heavy look of thanks, Gold turned back around to address Emma once more. "And one more thing, Miss Swan…I would be careful around Mayor Mills."

Before Emma could ask him what the hell that meant, he was gone.

xxxx

"Miss Swan, this is the third time I've called you in the past three hours," Regina snapped into her cell phone as she paced her living room, fist planted on her black pencil skirt clad hip. "I've just checked Henry's room – he's gone. I've no idea where he went. You need to get over whatever this is and call me back immediately!" Snapping the phone shut, Regina tossed – alright, more like flung – the device onto the coffee table and rubbed her temples. Stress was starting to wear on her, and now it was becoming visible. Her stance was far more tense than usual, her eyes were pinching, her voice was wavering in and out of her usual ice mode…this was completely unacceptable. But now her son was gone. Gone.

It was completely lost on the brunette as to what had happened. Regina had gotten home from work before Henry got home from school, for once; when Henry did get home, he had flung his bag next to the door and stormed immediately up to his room. She'd had half a mind to follow him until hearing his door slam shut far harder than was normal for him. Concern was always evident with Regina in regards to Henry, but she did understand his need for space. She had resigned to giving him fifteen minutes to rage out whatever was happening through his Gameboy before going upstairs to check on him.

"Leave me alone," was all Regina got in response to soft knocks on his bedroom door. Even after inquiring if he was alright, Regina got the same answer. Alright…so she would back down for now, but she would be going upstairs again in an hour to try again. One way or another, she was going to find out what was wrong. He had been acting far too strange lately for her to just let this go. Just as a precaution, Regina had called Emma's cell phone. When she had started looking at the blonde as backup, she had no damn idea. The idea disgusted her, made her absolutely horrified with herself. This was Henry, for God's sake. She had been doing this for far longer than the blonde had even thought of trying. She didn't need anyone else.

But she was calling anyway, and she was getting no response. Emma hadn't been feeling well the last time Regina had been around her. She was likely asleep. No, she was surely asleep; she hadn't had the paperwork dropped off yet, and she had been fairly adamant that she be given something to do if she couldn't go into the station. Emma wouldn't have completely given up on it if she hadn't fallen asleep.

An hour later, Regina had gone back upstairs. His door was cracked – he had left the room briefly, for what, Regina had no idea – but was sprawled out now on his bed, facing away from her on his stomach. Regina had nudged his door open further so she could step inside, leaning against the wall next to said door and loosely folding her arms around her middle. She felt like her younger self around him sometimes; small and meek, and nowhere near confident enough to survive in the setting she was thrown into. Sometimes, she was nowhere near confident enough to approach him. He thought terribly of her, and he was the only one that mattered.

"Go away," Henry said immediately upon realizing Regina was standing there. The brunette shook her head, clearing her head of the thoughts that had begun invading her as she pushed off the wall and moved to lower herself on the edge of his bed. "I said go away," Henry repeated, louder this time.

"You'll stop speaking to me like that, young man," Regina replied, a little loud herself. She didn't like pulling the 'I'm your mother' card, but he really did get out of control with who he believed was the boss sometimes. She had stopped ordering him around, for the most part; but he was still only ten years old. Far too young to be so grown.

Henry remained silent after that, glaring at the wall. At least, that was what Regina imagined he was doing, as she couldn't see his face. It didn't matter how many different ways she worded her concerned questions; he didn't budge. He never did this. She was almost always able to get it out of him eventually. It would end with him in tears in her lap, and she would rock him back to silence and comfort for as long as it took. This wasn't anywhere near that situation, and it made her feel sick to her stomach to think that it might never be that way again.

She was losing him.

When Regina exited the bedroom, she made another attempt on Emma's cell phone. Nothing. The last call hadn't resulted in a message, but this one had. And the very fact that she wasn't hearing back…she wasn't sure if she was angrier at Emma's clear lack of concern, or worried because Emma was never not concerned about Henry. No…not worried. Disadvantaged, perhaps, but not worried. Regina Mills was not worried about that insolent blonde Sheriff.

Regina had decided that dinner preparations would be more than adequate time to leave him alone. She would try again while they were eating, but she would only ask once; she didn't want to chase him from the table. He needed to eat, and if he did choose to sit with her, she was too happy to do anything to ruin it. So she went about her lasagna, needing something to focus on. Once it was in the oven, she poured herself a glass of cider, finally slipped out of her heels in the entryway, and padded into the living room to settle on the couch. She was tired. There was no denying it anymore. She had been so damn worried about Henry this past week, and work had been murdering her patience and her stature. She couldn't believe she was considering sending Henry off with Emma for a couple of days so she could get some sleep.

As soon as the blonde crossed her mind again, Regna had looked at her cell phone. She'd had no idea why in the world Emma wasn't calling her back. She was never this avoidant of anything to do with Henry, especially when something was wrong with him. Regina had forced herself not to linger, sipping her cider until she smelled the tantalizing aroma of her finished lasagna, then got up to go take it out of the oven.

When she climbed the stairs to get Henry for dinner, she had found his bedroom empty. His window wasn't open, there was no indication he had slipped past her downstairs…she would have heard the door open. He was just gone. Vanished. And Regina didn't even let reasoning kick in before full blown panic had taken over, and she was running – yes, running – down the stairs for her phone. She had tried Henry first, then Emma. And now that all of that had happened, and she was standing in her living room with no other options, she knew where this was going to lead. And she was not going to see that twisted, manipulative imp. She knew he knew who he was, and she wasn't giving him the satisfaction. Not yet.

Not ever.

Regina shoved her shoes back on and grabbed her coat, storming from the house as she pushed her phone into her pocket. She checked the park, the arcade, the comic book store…nothing. Henry wasn't at any of them. She wondered if he would go to Archie, but then dismissed that idea immediately; he knew that Archie would call Regina the minute the boy told him what he had done. The last plausible place would be Emma's apartment. So be it. She would both find her son and figure out why the woman wasn't' answering her damn phone. Throwing her Mercedes into gear, she spun the steering wheel and took off towards the complex she knew Emma to reside in with that insufferable monster.

Less than ten minutes later, Regina was slamming her car door and throwing open the door of the complex, storming up the stairs. When she was standing outside of Mary Margaret's front door, she could only glare at it for a while; she didn't even want to touch the damn thing, with the knowledge of who lay on the other side of it. Drawing a deep breath through her nose, her fist lifted, knuckles rapping sharply on the wood.

Of course Mary Margaret would answer, instead of Emma. Of course she would.

"Emma's not feeling well," Mary Margaret said immediately. "You shouldn't –"

"I'm not here for Miss Swan," Regina snipped shortly, cutting the woman off before she could continue. "I'm here for my son."

"Henry?" Mary Margaret asked, brow furrowed. Regina only regarded her with a lifted brow, an expression that clearly showed how big of an idiotic statement that was. "I haven't…he's not here, if that's what you're asking," the other brunette finished. "I haven't seen him since the last time I was in class."

"You haven't been going to work?" Regina asked coolly. Not like she cared; but perhaps she could finally find a way to fire this woman clean out of the school.

"Emma's not…" Sighing, Mary Margaret glanced over her shoulder for a moment. "She's not doing well," she finally finished. "I've been home with her. She shouldn't be alone."

Dark eyes flicked to the wood of the door, as if they could see through it. They couldn't; Regina found herself curious to know just how badly off Emma really was. That twisting in her stomach was back, the one that was certainly not concern for Emma herself, but for the boy that had just disappeared.

"Well," Regina said finally, having completely composed her voice again. "She should know that Henry's disappeared. Literally. Let me in."

Mary Margaret immediately shook her head. "No," she said firmly, and Regina stared at her. "She's asleep," Mary Margaret added. "I'm not waking her. Even if I did, she's in absolutely no shape to be out there looking for Henry. She can barely sit up." Pausing, the teacher sucked in a breath, looking hesitant, but like she had made up her mind. "I'll help you."

"You most certainly will not," Regina replied with an indignant huff. Like she was letting that anywhere near her car, let alone inside of it. "Let me in." Why was she so hell bent on getting to Emma all of the sudden? Because she was Henry's other mother, that was why. She hated admitting it to herself, but the situation called for it now. Emma knew how to find people. This was Emma's specialty. She needed to wake the hell up and find her son before –

"Regina," Mary Margaret said sharply, cutting the Mayor's thought track short and causing her eyes to narrow. "Leave. Now. I'll have Emma call you when she wakes up. I'll start looking for Henry in places I know he goes." I've already done that, you idiot, was all Regina could think in response to that. "I'm sure he just wanted to get out for a while."

"He's ten," Regina spit. "He has absolutely no right to –"

"I never said he did," Mary Margaret cut in. "But this is Henry. Who went all the way to Boston to find his birth mother. Would you really be all that surprised?"

The look she was getting was so serious, and it made Regina was to rip it right off of her face. Mainly because Mary Margaret was right; Henry was a bit notorious for these disappearing acts…Perhaps he was just somewhere that he could get away for a while. Regina just wasn't looking hard enough.

Scowling, Regina didn't give any more words to the other woman. Turning on her heel, she headed down the stairs and slammed the door open, stepping into the cooling air of the evening. The sun was down now; there wasn't much light left at all. Just enough to illuminate her pathway.

A pathway which was suddenly blocked. Regina's eyes snapped up from where they were focused on the ground, opening her eyes to snarl at whoever dared get in her way, before she realized exactly who was standing in front of her.

"And what are you doing here?" Regina spat. Gold simply regarded her calmly, looking far too nonchalant for Regina's liking. She hated that man more than she cared to admit. Even if they did share a magical bond with each other, even if he did teach her everything she knew…she would never be able to kill him, but there was a part of her that hated him more than she hated Snow White. And that hate ran deeper than she had ever known possible.

"I could ask you the same question, Madam Mayor," Gold said calmly. "Storming out of the living space of people you hate…are you ill?" Something glinted in his eyes that Regina didn't like, and she was suddenly on guard.

"Where's Henry?" she demanded suddenly. Gold looked genuinely confused; his head tilted, and his lips turned down into a frown.

"What do you mean?"

"Where's Emma?" Regina tried a different approach, and this time, she got what she was looking for. His face twisted into the cool mask he always got when he was hiding something. Clearly, he hadn't learned a damn thing. That look didn't work on her anymore.

"Where….is Miss Swan?" Regina repeated, taking a threatening step towards Gold. She could see his amusement, but she was ready to blast him into the tree behind him. She gravely missed her magic; missed being able to just flick her wrist and end those in her way…But she wasn't that person anymore, she reminded herself. Henry had changed her. She had other things to worry about now.

"Miss Swan is ill," Gold finally said, his tone mocking. Like this was something she should have known; it was something she had known, but it hadn't been life threatening. What could possibly be causing her to drop off the radar like this, with everyone protecting her from Regina's prying eyes?

"I have to wonder, You're Majesty…" Regina hissed at the title, tensing with the confirmation that yes…he knew. He had known all along. "what kind of magic you still have at your disposal. For Miss Swan to be so ill…it must be more than you're letting on."

This little imp was pointing the finger at her! For what!? What could she possibly be doing with magic in a land that didn't have any? She would have died to have one more taste of magic lately, but it wasn't possible. Where were these accusations coming from?

"You dirty little fool," Regina finally spit. "Do you really think you're going to pin whatever twisted little scheme you have on me? You forget, dear…I'm much more skilled at blackmail." She advanced all the way on him this time, right in his face when she finally stopped. "Where…is my son? Where…is Emma?"

Gold only smiled at her, and it was so condescending, Regina could have screamed. She knew she didn't have the upper hand in this. She thrived on control, and she was stuck wanting something here. Needing something. He knew it, and he was using it to his advantage. "Your son I cannot help you with," Gold said finally. "But Emma is just upstairs. Where she's always been."

That's what Regina had thought. Perhaps she should have worded it different – demanded to know what was wrong with her. But she determined right then and there that she would find out herself. Spinning on her heel, she slammed her way back into the building, barely remembering getting up the stairs before she was pounding on Mary Margaret's door again. She heard a pained moan from the other side, and eventually the door opened to the brunette's cross face again.

"Regina, I told you, Henry's not –"

"Move," Regina hissed, shoving the door out of Mary Margaret's hand and forcing her way inside. She was crossing through the kitchen by the time she heard Mary Margaret's startled gasp, and her attempt at catching up with her. She didn't try to stop her, though; not now that Regina was already inside. When the Mayor came to the living room, she was a lot more surprised at what she saw than she expected to be. Emma looked terrible; she was paler than Regina had ever seen anyone. The blanket was pushed off of her and hanging off the edge of the couch, and she was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Her eyes were half open; so she was still conscious, but perhaps not completely. The thing that concerned Regina most were the purple, vein like lines running across her skin at all angles. They seemed to be pulsing, making the white of Emma's skin even more noticeable against them.

Whale was knelt next to Emma, dabbing a wet cloth along her face and neck in an attempt to cool her body temperature. He looked absolutely distressed; Regina already knew he had never seen anything like this before. Regina had…once. A long time ago, back in the Forest, during the beginning stages of her marriage to the King. A young man had stolen from the garden, and the King had poisoned him, cursed him to die a slow death. And slow it had been, and painful. He was kept in a room in the castle to give appearances of the royal family attempting to save him, but in reality, he was just left alone to starve and grow even more ill. Regina had stolen inside of the room with some food once, and he had been glowing with purple, sickly veins that had almost completely taken over his body. It had been a lot more painful to watch than Regina was prepared for. She was in the room when he died.

As Regina crossed the room towards the couch, Whale looked up at Regina. He gave a tight smile in response to her terse nod, and looked back at Emma. "I don't know what's happening," he admitted quietly. "She's not getting any better. There aren't any medications I know of that treat…whatever this is." He sounded almost defeated. Regina looked at him for a moment, then back to Emma.

"Is she awake?" Regina asked. Whale nodded.

"She can hear us," he said. "She just can't speak or open her eyes more than she's done already. Speaking seems to wear her out completely. She's slept some, but not long enough to give her any actual resting time."

Regina waved Whale aside so she could perch on the edge of the couch, next to Emma. Her hand came to rest over her forehead; it was burning up, but left a cold chill along her palm when she lifted it again. "Miss Swan," she said finally. "Henry's gone." The response was almost immediate; Emma's breathing picked up, and she tried to move her head, to open her mouth. It was useless. But the panic was clear in what Regina could see of her eyes. "I don't know where he is," she said. "He disappeared from his room. Now, I know you can get the energy to get up; you have to concentrate, and to want it badly enough. You need to get up and find our son."

It was the first time she had referred to him as theirs; both of theirs. But this was no time to be selfish. She could see the attempts at moving, but Emma was weighed down by the illness that had taken over her. It was almost pitiful to watch. No matter how hard Regina tried, she couldn't wipe the frown from her face, and she eventually found herself moving further up the couch so she could get a better look at Emma's eyes.

"Look at me," she said to the blonde. "Open your eyes. Try." Emma tried, and tried harder, and just barely succeeded. Regina could see enough of her eyes, however, to determine what she was looking for. And there was no way Emma was going to be healthy enough any time soon to help Regina find Henry. She was going to have to do it herself. With a sharp breath, caught between irritation and confusion towards herself, Regina pushed herself from the couch and smoothed a hand down her white blouse; staring ahead of herself for a few long moments. Finally, she took a few steps away from Emma, only glancing back long enough to speak to Whale.

"I expect full reports on her after every visit you make here," Regina said shortly. "Symptoms, theories…all of it. Starting with today. You'll have it on my desk by morning." With that, she swept from the apartment, not even sparing Mary Margaret a glance in the process.

She had a lot of work to do.