A/N- It's about to get a bit trippy. Let me know what you think about the alternate sequence of events.
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Regina awoke from a disturbing dream the following morning. Flashes of people she knew flitted in and out of her brain and she rose from the bed feeling exhausted and weary. Mr. Gold had been covered in green and gold glitter. Mary Margaret, dressed in black, hugged her over a casket. David Nolan shouted at her between cell bars as her hand closed over the firm flesh of an apple.
The brunette shook her head. All the images were disjointed and discombobulated. Sometimes Mary Margaret appeared as a child and sometimes in a cloak. Regina felt pangs of pain and regret when flashes of her father and mother appeared and flitted away like the rest of the stills that were running through her mind. It had been as if she were trying to watch a movie in fast-forward with the reel jumping from one set of frames to another at lightening speed.
As it was Saturday, and Henry was still away with a friend, the brunette took her time getting ready as she tried to shake the images out of her head. Regina supposed the Fairy Tale Harvest Festival had done this to her. Her subconscious had cast her in the role of the Evil Queen that her son once believed her to be. What was so disorienting was the fact that the emotions and sensations the dreams evoked were so very vivid and real. She actually felt as though she was living through the frames.
X
These thoughts were still troubling her as she headed out her door and toward the cemetery where her parents' bodies rested. Her dreams the previous night had awoken in her a desire to see them and so she set off; half wondering what in the hell she was doing.
As she stepped inside and laid the bouquet of flowers on her mother's grave, she rested her hand there momentarily and smiled sadly. She and her mother had not always seen eye-to-eye. But she had been her mother and Regina had idolized her in a way; even when she had used dark magic on her for misbehaving- Wait. What? The brunette pondered. Dark magic? Where the hell did that come from? She shook her head and chalked it up to the mysterious dreams she was having.
As she stepped over to her father's tomb, she pressed her hand to the nameplate. When she did, reality shifted and without warning, she was standing in a room that seemed to be made of dark marble with her father before her. He looked at her with deep sadness in his eyes and then sank to the ground. Regina looked down at her hand where; she was clutching the bright, red heart.
Suddenly, the brunette was back in the tomb with her palm on her father's grave. She felt tears on her cheeks and wondered how they had gotten there. What is happening to me? She wondered desperately as she clutched the solid rock of the vault. However, when the brunette leaned against the stone, she felt it shift and jumped back in surprise. Looking down, she saw grooves in the smooth tile of the floor. Almost unconsciously, she pushed on the tomb and it slid over to reveal a hole in the floor. How had she never noticed this? How long had it been here? Who had built it?
Question upon question swirled in her mind as she carefully scaled the steep steps down into the room. It was extremely dark and smelled of decay, but Regina lit the screen of her phone and waved it around to a well-built interior room; a room that contained small, separate chambers. Still confused, but with a growing sense of something familiar, the brunette observed there was no light switch, only candles in elaborate candelabras stationed about the room. In sudden inspiration, Regina dug in her handbag and procured a lighter.
After lighting the candles, she moved about the room; running her hands first over the spines of hundreds of books written in different languages. She then moved to the other side of the room, past a vast tapestry, which she barely gave a second glance, and into a sort of study; complete with desk, chair, mirror, more books and cauldron. Seriously, a cauldron? The woman thought to herself. Who lives here? The Sanderson Sisters? But a flashback of a cauldron spewing thick purple fog smelling of rot and vengeance swept across her brain and Regina was forced to clutch the desk to remain in reality.
Curious beyond what was wise, the brunette situated herself in the chair behind the desk and began to rummage in the drawers. Finding them mostly vacant save some empty glass vials and various trinkets to be studied more closely later, she slammed them hard and looked about the desk. On the wooden surface was a stack of papers and on top of those, a thick envelope closed with a wax seal. Taking the small, archaic letter-opener in hand, the brunette quickly slit the paper and emptied the contents. Contained therein, was a letter addressed to her.
Regina,
If you are reading this, it means one of two things: that the unthinkable has happened and the curse is broken or that you have somehow managed to 'wake up' inside of the spell. You, of course, have no idea of that which I am speaking. Therefore, let me begin at the beginning. This will be a painful process for you as you remember your history and anguish, but it will be worth it in the end. We will have our revenge.
Brown eyes flew down the page as the unknown writer recounted a detailed account of betrayal and anger. As each new detail came to light, the brunette felt it like a punch in the gut. As sensational and utterly preposterous the allegations were, the woman knew them to be true. She could feel the pain, the hatred, the sheer fury returning to her body like jolts of lightning.
Regina wept as the memory of Daniel's death washed over her. She felt shocked relief as her mother disappeared through the looking-glass and a sadness like an abyss in her chest when she took her own father's heart. The faces of Snow White, Rumpelstiltskin, Maleficent, and Graham swirled about her until she clutched the desk before her; willing herself not to vomit. Mustering her composure, the woman turned back to the letter and read the closing statement.
This Savior, this child of Snow White, must be vanquished at all costs if the curse is not already breached. In order to preserve our revenge, you must destroy her. However, if the curse is broken, you must reach the failsafe I built into the curse. The failsafe will destroy the town and everyone in it; except you. You will simply have to leave the town before the destruction occurs. It won't be like ruling the town, but it is better than being imprisoned or executed. On the brightside, our revenge will be complete and utterly permanent.
-Regina
The brunette finished reading and sat back in the leather chair. Her head was spinning as she considered all that she had learned, lived, and lost in the past half hour. Regina felt as though she had been tossed in the middle of the Atlantic and left to drown. The woman was exhausted as she considered the facts.
She had written herself a letter to explain everything if and when she woke up from the spell. She remembered penning it in her own hand. She had gotten the curse from Rumpelstiltskin and tweaked it to fit her own needs; it had performed its duty admirably, excepting the bit about her own memories being lost. However, everything was not so cut and dry as her younger self had implied. She had Henry now and couldn't simply destroy an entire town.
Though her wounds from Daniel's death and her mother's betrayal were still painful; they were no longer fresh. Almost thirty years she had lived in this town without magic and ruled Storybrook with a sensible fist. Though she found the citizens often irksome and dull-witted, they were her citizens. Living among them had caused her to grow...attached.
The brunette shook her head, hardly believing she could admit that to herself. If Emma Swan could see me- She stopped mid-thought and considered the blonde annoyance. Emma Swan was the one; she was the Savior. The one that had undone the brunette's amnesia with her damnable lips. Regina had been kissed by the product of true love and it had awoken her from her fog. Of course, it was only a theory, she couldn't very well test it- Her thoughts stopped abruptly once more. Unless...unless she kissed Graham too...if that was why he had been acting so oddly leading up to… Regina didn't finish the thought, but sat in silent pensivity.
Another name fluttered on the peripheral of her subconscious. Henry. How would she handle this with her son? Hadn't he spent months in therapy to rid him of these fantasies? And they weren't fantasies at all. She really was the Evil Queen and Emma was the Savior and Mary-Margaret was Snow White. The brunette almost felt sick. These people that she had come to think of as her people, what was she going to do about them?
Regina took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down and consider one issue at a time. The best she could do was make a priority list to figure out where to go from here. The woman reached to the corner of the desk and pulled a pen out of its holder. She uncapped the expensive writing utensil, flipped through the papers to find a legal pad, and began to write with deep purple ink.
Verify if Emma Swan is the Savior by interrogating her about Graham.
Assuming she is, one must also assume that the curse will break.
Damage control: Convince Henry. Convince Miss Swan.
She looked down at her sparse notes and sighed. Henry would be fairly easy. She was sure she could show him the vault and he would convinced. However, Emma Swan would be another matter entirely. But Regina understood that it was imperative for the blonde to believe before they could move forward. She knew now that the curse Rumpelstiltskin had given her was designed to fail; he wanted Emma to come and needed her to break the curse.
The malevolent imp's face grinned in her mind's eye. How much did he know? Did he remember anything at all? Or was he, like her, ignorant until the spell was broken? Regina copied these thoughts down on the page under a separate heading labeled Questions. She looked down at the paper in dissatisfaction. There seemed to be quite a few more unanswered questions and tasks to be completed than useful information on the page.
Sighing to herself, Regina stood and walked over to the tapestry she had passed without a glance when she had entered the room. The brunette reached up and pulled back the thick material to reveal an archway through which she stepped. Dark eyes scanned the room full of small boxes. Regina smiled to herself upon realizing the vault looked like a room of safety deposit boxes; the irony. A faint red glow emanated from each cubby and the sight that once upon a time filled her with smug satisfaction, now made her slightly sick. She couldn't even remember to whom each heart belonged, for she had not only brought with her the hearts from her collection, but those from her mother's as well.
It was overwhelming to think of all of the beating organs she had amassed. Stepping forward to open a box, she pulled the heart out and held it in her hand; willing it to tell her the name of its owner. But the organ simply continued to beat and hold its secrets. She looked down in disgust and realized this was how she would convince Henry. The idea sent a skittering of fear up her back, but she shoved it away. A much younger, angrier Regina would have hid her secret and guarded it with all her might. Now the woman knew, however, that the only way she could be truly happy was with Henry and the only way to maintain that relationship was through honesty.
