Hey all! I was completely blown away by the response to the last chapter and I want to thank everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited! I hope you like what you read! :)

Alas, I do not own OUAT.

It was a restless night. As she tossed and turned trying to keep herself warm, and eventually curling up into a ball to shield her body from the icy conditions, Emma's dreams were filled with the events of the past few days. Images of Henry dying on a hospital bed, her reunion with her parents, slaying a dragon, Mary Margaret defeating an ogre, and Cora wielding her magic for selfish purposes flashed through her mind, mingling together into one massive jigsaw puzzle that needed to be put together in some kind of coherent fashion. She squeezed her eyes tighter hoping that by doing so, the images would cease and she'd just be able to free her mind and relax.

Pulling herself out of her dreams and slipping into the not-asleep-but-not-awake limbo, she crossed her arms, and laid her hands on her shoulders next to her neck. It seemed unnatural but was so comfortable. Letting the chill in and out of her lungs, she opened her eyes momentarily – long enough to steal a peek at the tree stump on which Mary Margaret was using to keep watch.

Or supposedly using to keep watch.

Her vision was hazy and her world was tilting with each passing second but she stayed awake just to see the empty stump. But before she deliberated a movement, her eyelids drooped and she was dragged under, her last thoughts a distant memory.


Feeling the morning heat pressing on her face, Emma awoke with a start. Her dreams had been wild and dark with each vision moulding into another, leaving Emma starving for reprieve. She bolted upright, scanning her surroundings. Yes, she was still in Fairytale Land; still in the unfamiliar, dangerous, mind-bending place with seemingly no way of getting back home to Storybrooke. Each time she woke to see she was still stuck, her heart tugged as she thought of Henry. Being apart from him was the most difficult thing she had ever endured, and her pain only increased as time went on. Knowing that he was back home with Regina still in the picture, lurking and waiting to snatch him away from her did nothing to ease her mind though she knew David – no, her father – would protect him and that gave her some peace of mind.

Having Mary Margaret around was a definite help, and despite how awkward treating her as her mother was, Emma was happy with the direction their relationship was going. At first she was hurt by the thought that Mary Margaret only went through the portal because she thought Emma was helpless and incapable of looking after herself in a strange land, but knowing now that she came through just so that she wouldn't have to be separated from her again shaped a smile on her face. In fact, she couldn't picture being without her now. And the more she thought of it, she realised that she didn't want to be without her mother again.

Placing the palm of her hand on the ground to give her leverage, she rose to her feet, wiping off any dirt on the arms of her jacket and walked over to meet Mulan and Mary Margaret who were checking up on Aurora.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" she inquired, hunkering down to the princess' level.

"I have felt better," she replied and Emma couldn't help but laugh.

Her mother gave her a curious look and Mulan narrowed her cynical eyes. "What is so funny?" she asked, utterly bewildered by her outburst.

"Nothing; I just didn't expect her to come out with that. It sounded like something I would say," the blonde explained, visibly entertained by the influence she was having on the fairytale characters.

"I'm glad my plight amuses you," she uttered with a slight smile before closing her eyes as she inhaled deeply. "I'm afraid the drastic changes in temperature did little to help."

"Do you think you'll be able to travel today?" From her tone, Emma sensed that Mulan was eager to continue their journey just a little farther. She didn't exactly fit the profile of a patient girl what with all that armour and constant pensive expression.

Aurora made every effort to pull herself up into a seating position. Raising her head and letting the sun's rays rest on her face, she gave a nod. "I will try." That was the best they could hope for.

"I don't know, I don't feel right about making her go while she's not in the best health," Mary Margaret finally added, crinkling her forehead in thought.

The blonde extended a hand to Aurora and helped her to her feet, while using her other hand to keep her steady. "I thought you wanted to get back as soon as possible and warn everybody about Cora and magic and all that stuff? Besides, you know there's not much we can do out here to treat her; she'll recover quicker back at the haven."

"Yes, Snow, I'll be fine and when I'm not, I'll let you know."

"You see? Problem solved." Emma shot her mother a wide smile which Mary Margaret returned with less enthusiasm. What was going on with her lately?

Mulan was quick to her friend's side, offering her shoulder as an aid. "We must start," she announced, walking ahead with Aurora, being careful in making sure she kept an even pace. Though Aurora insisted she was okay for at least a little while, her ghost-like complexion begged to differ and Emma wasn't so sure how far she could go without taking a break.

As they followed behind them – in silence – Emma, every now and then, glanced over at the brunette and desperately wanted to know what she was thinking. She looked distant; like she was there, but…not. She was a million miles away, her brain calculating some kind of problem. Kicking a loose stone with brute force, she decided to spark a conversation, an anxiety beginning to rise within her even though she didn't know why. She watched the stone tumble along the ground, rhythmically letting air traverse in and out of her lungs. She didn't know what it was but there was just something about the idea of talking to her mother that caused her to stop and think before speaking; she worried about what she said and that was something completely alien to her. It was so unlike her.

"What are you thinking about? You've been really quiet."

The question seemed to catch the woman unawares and she brought her gaze to meet that of the blonde's. "Oh, you know, I was just worrying about Henry and…"

"David," Emma finished. "It must be hard to be separated from him again after literally just reuniting with him."

"Yes. It's been very difficult for me. As I assume it is for you, too." Mary Margaret interlocked her fingers, staring into the distance. Emma quirked an eyebrow at the woman's way of speaking; she sure didn't sound like herself and usually if she was worried or nervous over something or someone, she would toy with that ring she wore on her right hand, but she hadn't played with it at all.

"Yeah, it definitely hasn't been the easiest few days; the more I think about getting home, the more hopeless I feel. I mean, I thought that as soon as we found the wardrobe it would only be a matter of time before we'd get it work, but Cora ruined any chance we had of that. Now we're back to square one; what if we never get home, Mary Margaret?" That was the last thing she wanted to let her thoughts slip to, but the more time they spent hanging around the forest and dodging the original Evil Queen, the further they were from acquiring a solution and being reunited with their loved ones. All she desired to do was pull in her son for a long hug, smelling his hair and basking in the knowledge that he was alive and safe. And then there was the matter of seeing her father again and telling him that she understood why they sent her away.

Mary Margaret's unusual tone yanked her out of her daze. "Don't worry, Emma. I have a feeling that making it to Storybrooke is in the not-so-distant future." Instead of her words washing over her like a calm wave, they unsettled her and still, she couldn't figure out why. There was a whisper of a smirk on the brunette's face and a glazed film covered her natural warm green eyes, making them appear sinister rather than sincere.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Emma asked, stopping the woman's stride as she took hold of her arm and to her astonishment, Mary Margaret instantly broke away from her grip and Emma threw up her hands in apology. "Woah, sorry I didn't mean to…" What? What didn't she mean to do? All she did was put a hand on her elbow and normally that kind of contact would be embraced by Mary Margaret. No there was absolutely something going on here.

"Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm simply overwhelmed by everything and with the possibility of running into Cora, I'm scared. I don't want her to hurt us – you." She, tentatively, grabbed a hold of the blonde's shoulders, forcing her to look at her. "Nothing is more important to me than you, Emma. Please believe me on that."

Her plea didn't require an answer but Emma felt obliged to at least murmur some form of confirmation. "I do."

"Good. Everything is going to be okay, dear." Dear? What the hell? Mary Margaret never called her that.

She gave a weak smile before assembling the troops and marching forward with purpose again.

Everything is going to be okay.

There was nothing else Emma wanted to believe more in that moment, but how could she when that promise was so empty, so meaningless? So devoid of any emotion? Emma may not know many things about the world she was in, but if there was one thing she prized herself in knowing was Mary Margaret, and now she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that that woman there was not Mary Margaret, or Snow; not her best friend, nor her mother. That person was someone else entirely.

That person was Cora.


Perspiration trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes and matting her hair, but that was the last thing on her mind. Her throat ached from the sobs that resounded around her prison, her cheeks tingling with tears. With every ounce of energy she could muster, Snow throttled her arms forward putting as much strain as humanly possible on the chains she was bound by. But again, like all the other times previous, nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.

The easy option, the alternative route would be to give up and live in the hope that Cora was outsmarted and that Emma and the others were on the way to save her now, yet Snow had to remind herself to be realistic. She willed her core to keep trying because giving up meant she was losing faith and that was one thing she refused to let dissipate away. She was going to get out of this. She was going to see her daughter again, and she was going to finally tell her that she loved her. She was going to do it.

With another bout of exertion, she threw back a foot against the wall and used it to push her whole body forward, desperately putting everything she had into the act. With a painful groan she shoved so aggressively until her foot slipped causing her frame to bounce and fall backward, reverberating off the stone wall and shooting nothing but searing pain up her back and into her shoulders. In agony – and frustration – she kicked the wall with the heel of her foot, completely angered by her situation.

A part of her feared that her escape attempts were futile; that Cora had already enacted her plan and that…that…she couldn't say it. Yet, who was to say that that wasn't the case? Cora hadn't shown up in a while which concerned Snow. Still, she clutched onto the hope that Emma would recognise that a swap had been made and plan a takedown, or that Cora was biding her time, waiting for the right time to strike.

No, Emma wasn't dead. Snow could feel it. It was like they were cosmically linked and she could tell when Emma was hurting, or when she was angry. Snow just knew. And as she tried ever so hard again to jostle the chain, her heart lifted as one tiny piece of metal clinked collided with the dusty ground.


Cora was Mary Margaret.

As much as Emma knew that statement to be true, it still didn't diminish the fact that it was totally crazy. Shape-shifting was not something she was well acquainted with; the closest she had been to someone pretending to be someone they weren't was whenever she went on a date - which wasn't very often.

She had to remain calm; she couldn't show any sign of weakness or do anything to rouse suspicion. She had to go with the flow but it was kinda hard to do because every time she looked at the woman, her blood bubbled and she frantically racked her brain for ideas of where her mother could be. This woman, who had given birth to the Evil Queen, had abducted Mary Margaret and done God knows what to her. Emma compelled herself to take deep breaths and chant assurances in her head that she was alive because any thoughts contrary to that would…destroy her. Just thinking about it made her heart freeze and her limbs cease functioning. As the others charged forward, Emma had to stop and inhale deeply to get her heart beating again, her mind filled with terrible scenarios that Mary Margaret could be facing at that moment, each one a million times worse than the last.

Finally, after all the years of confusion and anguish, Emma had been reunited with the one person she had always wanted in her life and come hell or high water, she was going to do anything to find her again. No one, not even Cora, was going to get in her way.

As they were approaching another lake, Emma could see that Aurora wasn't holding up too well. They had been walking for hours and though the princess had put on a brave face for the majority of the trek, the exertion was obviously taking its toll. It was taking two of Mulan's arms to keep her steady now and she, too, was looking exhausted.

"Can we please stop?" Emma heard Aurora plead.

"The haven is just a bit farther," Mulan said sympathetically.

"Please, Mulan. If it is only a short distance, then we may stop for a brief moment."

Eager to explain to both Aurora and Mulan about what had taken place, Emma spoke, quickening her pace to take one of Aurora's arms and throw it around her neck. "She's right; she needs to be rehydrated. We'll continue soon, you have my word."

Nevertheless, Mulan was stubborn. "Snow, what do you think we should do?"

"I think Emma is right; she can barely stand. I'll go fetch her some fresh water." And without any sort of delay, Cora was out of sight.

Emma had to take hold of the opportunity presented in front of her. Lowering the princess onto a log, she signalled for both women to lean in close and listen.

"What is it?" Aurora questioned, intrigued by Emma's discomfort and no doubt reading the anxiety etched into her facial features.

"That woman is not my mother."

"What are you talking about? You told us she was," Mulan said, baffled by Emma's statement.

"No, Mary Margaret or Snow, whatever, is my mother, but that woman who is getting us water is not." She tried to convey clearly what was happening but even to herself she knew she sounded crazy.

"I'm not sure I follow." Aurora narrowed her eyes in concentration, visibly trying to sort out what Emma was saying.

"I'm saying that she is not who we think she is; she is someone else."

"Do you mean that she's-"

"Yes," Emma cut off, "she's Cora."

So what did you all think? I found this chapter really difficult to write mainly because I didn't know how I was going to get Emma to realize that it wasn't Mary Margaret but I hope that I've done it correctly! Please tell me if I haven't! Anyway, I really hope you like what you read and please, please review and tell me what you thought :)