Thanks for the reviews! I hope you all like this chapter and that it isn't too confusing. It will all be explained in the next chapter.

Chapter 7

It feels like hours. The sun shimmers on the ground, birds sing beautiful melodies, the wind blows lightly tickling her face, and here she stands. She stands in the same place she has stood since they all arrived back to the little camp of merry men and one very merry boy. They are all talking around her, and she stands in the middle like a rock in a river. Conversations flowing past her, around her, changing her fate slowly while she stands unhearing, unfeeling of her surroundings letting them glide over her.

Robin says something, he seems to be defending her slightly, telling his tale of finding her and their resulting path to this very moment. Snow doesn't speak so much as stare, stare at her, and Regina feels that words would be less unsettling than this constant gaze. Charming, and the others that arrived with him and Snow, speak over one another, throw their opinions in any pause. They are all suspicious, speak of the danger lurking in the woman standing in front of them, the danger lurking within her. Robin's men seem indifferent, very few say anything, only elaborate on Robin's story, and Roland is far, far away from this daunting circle of souls. He is playing joyfully as a little boy should.

"Regina...Regina," her name is actually being directed at her this time, and it pulls her from her reverie. Snow is looking at her, but now words are escaping her mouth as well, words that Regina dreads. She still has no plan, but any plan that these people have for her can not be good for any of them. "Regina, we will bring you back to our encampment. Then we will retake our," Snow glances to her true love, "castle." Those eyes find their way back to Regina, and she continues, "then we shall decide your fate."

This won't work of course. Regina knows none of this will work. They think they have the evil queen, that they can just go storm an unoccupied castle, but in truth, the evil queen they all know is lurking somewhere in this enchanted forest, she is hunting, still hunting snow as always. Regina does remember this time, even with the changes she has caused. She had been following Snow's success, the victories in taking back the kingdom slowly, village by village.

Regina offers no response, she must look so dejected as she lowers her eyes to the ground with no reply. It confuses Snow, she can see that much. The evil queen just giving up, giving in, surrendering. The brunette looks at her with those doe eyes and Regina wants to scream, wants to cry, wants to fight, wants to fall to the earth in an endless sleep, anything to remove her from this awful moment of helplessness.

"There is one problem," she hears Robin whisper to the others. He looks at her, looks down, looks all around at them, "she has not taken a dose of the leola root since I treated her injuries last night," he looks her way again, "if we do not give her more soon she will regain control over her magic." Regina feels hope seep through her skin into her bones once again. She just needs to stay free of this root a little longer, needs to stay stubborn, and then she'll be gone, escape in a cloud of smoke. She doesn't need a new plan, just a larger one. Her escape will still come, just later than planned. The memory potion will still do the job, just on more people, and then she will find her way home. She will find her way back to Henry, to Robin, to Roland, to her family.

The hope gushes through her only for a moment because in the next instant she sees dozens of eyes focusing on her. She gulps audibly, and blinks her eyes rapidly taking in every face, every glare. Robin almost looks apologetic, almost, but Little John behind him looks stern and determined as he hands a small bottle to Charming.

"The root," John states nodding toward the bottle, "in tonic form. If ingested that amount should last for at least a day, two if you're lucky." Regina's breath burns in her lungs, and her heart beats against her chest so strongly she believes it could burst. She looks at John, the man she has befriended in her time, then to Robin, then Snow and Charming. She sees it on all of their faces, different emotions, but all laced with that determination so pungent she can taste it.

She is about to say something, about to defend herself. Shaking her head, she begins to open her mouth when she finds hands clutching her biceps. How did she not notice them, she wonders as she turns to see Leroy (no Grumpy) and Red restraining her. He is strong for his height, afterall, dwarves have to be strong naturally for a profession of mining all day long, and Ruby (no Red) is far stronger than she looks, and Regina thinks it must be the wolf in her.

She struggles, flailing her arms about, but causing barely any movement, she is not strong enough. Her whole body quaking with fear. She just found hope, just allowed it to revisit her mind, and now it is already being torn away. She screams, and the sound is torture, because she hates her scream, always has. She hated it when she was a child and her mother would cause the sound, hated it when she lost Daniel, hated it when she would have to wait to release it until Leopold had left her bed chambers. She has always hated her scream.

Now for some reason it sounds worse than ever before. She squeezes her eyes shut, continues to fight hopelessly with all her might, continues to release scream after scream. Suddenly she realizes why it sounds different, why the tears streaming from her eyes seem to be soaking her shirt at her shoulder, why sobs are racking her body when she isn't sobbing.

Opening her eyes, she knows she can't be seeing what she sees, knows this is impossible, and she thinks perhaps she is dying, maybe this is what death feels like. She no longer screams, she can hear the boy clinging to her, the boy crying against her shoulder, the boy that had been screaming with her. "NO! You're hurting her, stop! Leave her alone."

Regina looks around her, feels her arms released and they instinctively surround the boy in front of her in a strong but shaky embrace, she holds him tight trying to hold on to any shred of sanity because she knows this is insane, knows this isn't happening. All eyes still remain on her, but now they hold shock, confusion, apprehension, wonderment as they gaze upon her and the boy she holds.

It doesn't matter she decides. It doesn't matter if it is real or if she is dying or dreaming. All that matters as she looks down and stares into the eyes of this boy is that this feels real, and she will not waste this gift for a moment. She leans forward and kisses his forehead, tasting the salt of her own tears, and then she holds his face, memorizes every detail, and whispers, "Henry?"