John hurried to match Sherlock's speed, quickly pacing through the dim streets of the town. Sherlock's coat floated out behind him, often hitting John in the side, annoying him even more. Though, he thought, it did feel nice to be back in the action.

Sherlock led him to a large house further from the town, close to the edge of the woods. It didn't look particularly inviting, but he saw many figures in the front window - the only room that was lit - so he figured it wouldn't be too terrible a place to enter. Once Sherlock knocked, it didn't take more than thirty seconds for John to be swept into the living room, surrounded by the people of Storybrooke, at least ten of them, all talking at once and over each other. After a minute or so, the woman from the pawn shop - Belle, he remembered - spoke up to settle everyone down. She asked them all to find seats so she could begin.

John sat next to Sherlock, but quickly noticed that Molly and Lestrade were among the group, and smiled at them politely, wondering how involved they were in comparison to himself. Belle stayed standing to speak, and a tall, dark man in the corner also remained standing, looking very uncomfortable at everyone in the room. He wondered if this man was Jefferson, the person to whom the house belonged.

"I wanted to start by saying that I haven't been harmed. They used a few spells to keep me seated and what not, but I'm completely alright." John noticed that the man from the shop, Mr. Gold, seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and leaned further onto his cane while seated. John, however, tried not to cringe at the word "spells".

Belle continued. "I believe he's planning on creating a network of people with magic. He already has Anastasia, as we know, and he took Lily so Maleficent would have to become a part of it as well. She hasn't been hurt either, but I am afraid that he might hurt her or Lily if she doesn't do what he wants." John leaned over to Sherlock, wanting to ask questions, but he only shushed John in response.

Regina sat up and responded indignantly. "But what does he want? Obviously we have to save everyone we can, but Moriarty is dangerous, we need to figure out his plan and stop him. Immediately. We can't have him taking anyone else." John noted the frustration in her voice, and he wondered if anything more had happened that she wasn't explaining.

Belle nodded. "I think I know what his plan is."

Everyone looked up, surprised, including John. He wanted to ask Sherlock a thousand questions, but he refused, still, to believe that all of this was happening regardless. It felt as though all of it was only an elaborate prank, and the more he bought into it, the more idiotic he would seem in the end.

Regina motioned for Belle to continue. Belle sighed and sat next to Mr. Gold, looking exhausted. "He brought me there to research a way to transfer magic from one person to another. I figured right away that it was for him to become magical, and I don't think I was wrong."

"What did you find?" Robin leaned over and took Regina's hand in his, worried.

"Well, at first I thought it might be a spell or a curse, but after a while I found an object. I didn't even think it would come in that form, but it does, and it isn't difficult to use. The only downside is that only one of the objects exists in all of the realms. It's this sort of apple, made of ash."

Mr. Gold nodded beside her. "I've heard of it before, even searched for it for a long while, but it wasn't traceable. Not that I necessarily needed magic at that point, I just thought it would be nice to have something so important."

Belle looked pale. John leaned over and whispered into Sherlock's ear. "What on earth are they talking about? An apple made of ash? This seems impossible, Sherlock, how am I supposed to believe-"

But before John could finish his sentence, Sherlock shook his head and continued to listen. John sat lower into the couch, annoyed.

"No, you don't understand," Belle continued, frustrated. She looked around the room, frightened to speak. "He already has it. I saw it in his cupboard in the room I was in. It's locked up. I think he already knew everything about it."

Everyone looked at her in dismay. Nobody said a word. John could feel his heart quickening in his chest. He wondered if he should be feeling this way, though, when he was convinced all of it wasn't true.

Regina stood, looking more scared than he had seen her before. "We better hurry then."


The group began to disperse soon after, talking in low tones. Robin watched them all leave, his mind a tumultuous whirlwind. If it was true, and Moriarty was looking to take someone's power, Regina was in even more danger than he had previously assumed. It left a nervous knot in his stomach, and as he watched her talk with Sherlock, he made a quiet vow to himself. She'd worked too hard to let everything fall apart, and he would do everything in his power to make sure it didn't happen. He would protect her with every fiber of his being.

Regina glanced over at him just then, and he forced a smile onto his lips. Standing, he joined her and Sherlock, instinctively wrapping an arm around her waist. She leaned against his side, and he could feel some of his anxiety fade simply because of her presence.

"We need to move quickly," Sherlock was saying. "We must assume that this is his plan and that he will enact it soon."

"Exactly," Regina said. She turned to Robin. "Sherlock and I are going to hang around for a bit, would you mind going to check on the boys?"

Robin hated to leave her, but he knew she could hold her own. That was one of the things he loved about her. And him waiting around by her side wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Of course," he said. She smiled at him, a small one that told him she knew what he was feeling. She squeezed his arm and kissed his cheek, and he had to resist the urge to pull her to him and never let go.

"Robin?" Sherlock asked. "Could you perhaps take John home? He's feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment and could use the walk."

Robin looked to Sherlock's friend, who was still sitting on the couch. He was staring blankly forward, his mouth hanging open slightly. It was actually a bit comical, if Robin had to admit.

"Certainly," Robin said. Sherlock flashed him a grateful look before jumping back into his conversation with Regina. With one last kiss to Regina's cheek, Robin forced himself to let her go and walked over to John.

"John?" he prompted. The man jumped, looking up in confusion.

"Er, hello, Robin."

Robin smiled faintly. "Sherlock is staying to talk with Regina, so do you want to head home with me?"

John looked towards Sherlock before nodding. He stood up, and Robin could tell he was still a thousand miles away. The two men left the house, an awkward silence filling the space between them.

Robin wondered if John was feeling the same way he had when he'd first landed in Storybrooke. Then he dismissed it entirely. When he first came to Storybrooke, everything around him was unfamiliar, yet he was still surrounded by people he knew well. And he had already known about magic. John had been thrown into a town that looked perfectly normal to him, yet was filled with things he had previously thought to be impossible. It would make perfect sense that he was having a hard time processing it. Robin couldn't even imagine.

"This must all be very hard for you," Robin commented. John's head snapped up, and he swallowed.

"Well, it's certainly not easy," he said.

Robin chuckled. "Yes, of course. Well, if it helps at all, if you have any questions, you can always come to me. Or if you just want to vent about things."

John seemed surprise about his offer, but a hesitant smile appeared on his face nonetheless.

"So," John said after a few moments of silence. "You're Robin Hood?"

Robin nodded. "At your service."

John blew out a huff of air. "Wow. It's an honor, then."

"So you've heard of me?"

John laughed. "Heard of you? I've seen maybe ten different versions of you."

"Versions?" Robin furrowed his eyebrows. "Oh, yes, Regina told me about how this world has different stories for us."

"Yeah, and you've got quite a lot. Have you heard of the one where you're a fox?"

Robin laughed. "Yeah, Henry told me about that one. He found it hilarious."

"I never understood that one, to be honest." John fell silent, shaking his head. "God, this is bloody insane."

"Give is some time," Robin said. "It'll be easier to process soon enough."

The two men were silent for a while. Robin wondered if his words were helping. Part of him doubted they were, but he really hoped that wasn't the case. John was in an unfortunate situation, and Robin wanted to help. It was in his nature, after all.

"How's your wife?" Robin asked. John started again, apparently having been lost in his thoughts.

"She's fine," he replied. "The baby should be due any day now."

"That's wonderful. Do you know what you're having?"

John shook his head. "We want to be surprised."

Robin hummed. "There's nothing like it. Seeing your child for the first time."

John fell silent again, and Robin suspected he'd been consumed by those pesky thoughts again. This time he decided to let the other man walk in silence. John had a lot to process, and Robin had to respect that.

"Robin?" John asked. Robin looked over.

"Yes?"

John glanced at him quickly before looking away. "Thank you. For… well…"

"You're welcome," Robin said. "I'm happy to help."

John nodded, and for the rest of the walk they were quiet. This time, however, the silence was comfortable, and Robin could tell John felt more at ease. He smiled. Mission accomplished.


Molly paced the kitchen of Jefferson's home, thinking only about the apple that Belle had described. There was nothing more that she wanted than to get her hands on it and start doing some experiments. Ever since she had been in Storybrooke, she had been engaged with the idea of studying magic, finding out how it worked, scientifically. She stopped and tapped her fingers on the granite countertop, hearing the frustrated voices of Sherlock and Regina in the other room. It wasn't a good time to ask about it, but she couldn't go another moment without it in her hands, under her microscope.

Before she could decide whether it would be worth confronting the two most strong-headed people knew, she felt the presence of another in the room with her. She turned to see Jefferson, sulking over to the counter.

He waited a moment, awkward, not knowing what to say. "Would you like some," he stopped, obviously thinking of the right words. "Some tea? Maybe? I have a few different kinds if you'd like."

Molly shook her head, smiling. "That's quite all right. But thank you." She tapped her fingers a few seconds more, but felt she needed to say something else. She assumed he wouldn't respond. "I really just want to test that apple that Belle was talking about. I wonder what kind of qualities it might have. I'm a little afraid to ask Sherlock and Regina, though. I'm not sure it would be a priority for them."

Jefferson stood still, not showing any indication that he had heard what she said. Then, after a moment, he replied. "I suppose I could talk to them for you."

Molly didn't know what to say. She saw so many similarities between Jefferson and Sherlock, and knowing Sherlock, offering to help wasn't something that came as natural or often warranted. She smiled. "Thank you, but it's okay, I think I'll ask tomorrow. Let them get a plan down, first. Sherlock works better with a plan of action." She stared at the counter below.

"He seems smart." Jefferson seemed strained, though Molly assumed it was from all of the company that he hadn't really wanted. She felt bad for him, she thought it would be better if only one or two people had come.

Molly nodded. "He is."

"I'm sure he'll let you experiment on the object." Molly looked up and smiled.

"Yeah, I'm sure he will."


"Regina, he can't get away with this." Sherlock raised his voice, and Regina furrowed her brows.

"Please don't yell, Sherlock, I understand what you're feeling." Regina didn't know where to go from here. How was she supposed to take down an extremely smart man, full of horrible ideas, who also has magic? She had hoped that having Sherlock around would make catching and detaining Moriarty easier, but lately it just seemed to add more stress. She wanted nothing more than the town to be safe, and to be home in bed with Robin. She only wanted peace of mind.

Sherlock sat down at an armchair and pursed his lips. Regina sat as well, across from him. "We need to figure out how he got ahold of that thing." Sherlock seemed more puzzled than Regina had ever seen him. She didn't know how figuring something like that out would help them defeat him.

Regina sat up a little, trying not to push certain buttons. "We could do that, but why?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "If we understand his past, we might understand what can break him. Maybe there was a person from his time in a certain realm that he grew attached to. If he happens to get magic, using someone else might help defeat him. It might be the only way."

Regina nodded, that wasn't a bad plan. "We could do that, have Belle draw up a timeline. I know when he was in the Enchanted Forest, and I'm sure if we got Ana on our side, we could figure out when he was in Wonderland. Maybe Maleficent knows more, too."

"I'm afraid that the only way we can get rid of him once and for all is by doing what he does to us."

Regina frowned. "And what would that be?"

"Using what he loves against him."

"Wouldn't that just be power?"

Sherlock nodded. "Maybe. If we don't find anything, then our best bet might be to take away his power, and hope he doesn't have anything else up his sleeve. But figuring out exactly what he wants, and who he wants it for could be a good step. Everyone is attached to something."

Regina felt a small pang of guilt in her chest. She had never heard this explained by anyone else before. It was something she used to do as the Evil Queen. She would find someone's weakness, something or someone they loved, and hurt it, in order to get what she wanted. Sometimes she would only do it for fun…

"I can get Belle to help us, she would be a good one for the job," she said.

Sherlock nodded. "Why don't we give her a little bit of time to calm down, though? I've noticed that recently traumatized people don't do well under pressure."

Regina nodded in agreement. Though she did have a feeling that Sherlock actually just had Belle's best interests in mind. It was sweet, really, him caring about everyone, after knowing them for such a short period of time. Maybe she was wrong to want him out of the picture. Storybrooke needed someone like Sherlock Holmes.


Emma's hand slipped into Killian's as she unlocked the door to their home. She had a feeling Robin would be over anytime to pick up the boys, so she and Killian had dipped out of the meeting early to have a few extra minutes with them. Roland jumped up and down when they walked in, and Henry smiled at them from the couch, switching off the TV that was playing Hercules. Emma smiled back.

"When is Papa coming over?" Roland gave Emma and Killian hugs and then walked back to the couch quickly, full of energy. He always seemed to be full of energy.

"I've a feeling he'll be here soon, Roland," Killian replied, smiling to Emma.

Emma sat next to Henry at the couch and asked the boys how their day was. Both of them gave long and sweet answers, and Emma thanked Henry again for watching his new little brother. She knew it meant a lot to Regina that Henry was so grown up. It meant a lot to her, too.

After Robin came and picked them up, and after they had both gotten happy hugs from the boys, Emma and Killian drifted into the kitchen and poured themselves each a glass of wine. Even through all the craziness that had settled upon the town, she felt like she was in the right place, like things weren't really that bad.

"I really like having those two around," Killian said, smiling.

Emma nodded in agreement and took a little sip from her glass. "They're fun ones."

"Sometimes I wish we had a baby of our own, Swan." Emma looked up, surprised. He seemed to be half joking, so she smiled as if he had brought up going on a vacation or something less serious.

"Do you, now?" She took another sip, trying not to sound too surprised. Did he really want a child? And with her? Her superpower didn't seem to be working at the moment.

Killian nodded, half smiling. "I've always wanted kids, you know that."

"Well yeah," she laughed, "but with me?" It wasn't often she let her guard down, even though it was easier now more than ever. She wondered why he would bring this up now, but on second thought, why wouldn't he? Or better yet, when was he supposed to bring something like that up?

Killian looked surprised. He set his drink down and frowned, sweetly. "Of course, Emma."

She tried not to smile. "Maybe someday, then?"

He swallowed and picked back up the glass. "Indeed, someday."


Rumple moved about his kitchen, willing himself not to look into the living room for the umpteenth time. He and Belle had left Jefferson's as soon as possible. He knew that would anger Regina, because the former queen surely wanted to speak to Belle, but he didn't care. He just wanted Belle back at home where he could take care of her.

Belle was sitting on the couch, her eyes faraway. Rumple had mumbled something about making her dinner and disappeared into the kitchen. He so desperately wanted to sit with her and hold her, but he could tell she needed some time to herself.

After a while though, he could no longer put it off. While their dinner was in the oven, he entered the living room and sat down next to Belle. She automatically reached for his hand, which he gave willingly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly. Belle closed her eyes momentarily before shaking her head.

"There's nothing much to say," she replied. "He didn't hurt me. In fact, he barely spoke to me. He just gave me a few books and told me to research the Ash Apple for him."

"Well, that's good," Rumple said encouragingly. He paused. "But something is still bothering you."

Belle didn't respond right away. Rumple waited, not wanting to push her.

"What if I had found something he didn't know about?" she whispered. "And what if he cursed me to tell him?" She looked to Rumple, her eyes shining with fear. "I could've found something that would have destroyed everyone, and I would've had no choice but to tell him about it."

Rumple gripped her hand. "Belle, you don't have to worry about that anymore."

She looked away. "I know. But still."

Rumple wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. She pressed herself against his side and nestled her head on his shoulder.

"Even if he had done that," he said. "It wouldn't have been your fault."

"I know, but-"

"But nothing," Rumple said with a shake of his head. "It would not have been your fault. Take it from someone who was once like Moriarty." He swallowed. "You would not have been to blame."

Belle smiled sadly. She snuggled closer to Rumple and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Rumple closed his eyes. His hatred for Moriarty increased tenfold, simply because of Belle's fear. If he ever saw the man, Rumple knew he would rip him apart.

And he doubted anyone would stop him.


Charming was halfway to the door when it opened. He stopped, frowning as Regina walked in.

"What? I knocked," Regina said. She sat down at the kitchen counter. Charming sighed and walked around to the other side.

"What's up, Regina?"

She tapped her fingers against the counter as her gaze darted around the apartment. "Where's Snow?"

"Giving Neal a bath." Charming tilted his head to the side. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Regina looked back at him. "I just thought I'd update you two on the Moriarty situation. Since, you know, you were so upset about being left out."

Charming rolled his eyes, though it was more out of amusement than pure irritation. Regina's words rarely hurt him anymore, and he was becoming more and more accustomed to her barbs. He supposed it was a side effect of becoming friends.

"Thank you," he said. "What's happened?"

Regina took a deep breath and explained everything, from Belle's rescue to what she had learned. Charming listened, slowly understanding why she seemed so agitated.

"He wants someone's power," he stated once she had finished. Regina bit her lip.

"That's what we're assuming."

Charming exhaled. "That's not good."

"Really? I thought it was a great thing."

He frowned at her. "Remember we're on the same side."

She deflated, resting her head in her hands. "I know. I'm sorry." She lifted her head. "Moriarty just…"

"Scares you?"

Regina stiffened, her eyes hardening. Charming saw what she was trying to do, and he instinctively grabbed her hand.

"No, don't do that," he said. "Talk it out, Regina. Don't keep it bottled up."

She glared at him for a moment before dropping her gaze. Her shoulders sagged. Charming removed his hand from hers and waited.

"You don't know him," she said quietly. "What he's capable of." She looked at him. "He seems to think he can bring back the Evil Queen."

Charming shook his head. "No. She's gone."

"And I know that," Regina said. "But…" She pressed her lips together. "I'm afraid of what he'll do to try and revive her."

Charming thought back to the days when the Evil Queen reigned, to when he saw her as nothing more than a monster. It was a far cry from how they were now, with her walking straight into his apartment without him questioning it.

"We'll stop him," he said. "We have to believe we will."

Regina smirked. "You Charmings and your hope."

"Robin said it was rubbing off on you."

She groaned. "You two have got to stop talking so much."


John sat in his living room, staring straight ahead. He'd thought he was past this, but the minute he'd crossed the threshold of the apartment and sat down, he'd fallen back into the trap. His mind was running in endless circles, trying to make sense of everything he'd learned that day.

Across from him sat Lestrade and Molly. Not long after he had returned home, they had shown up, expressing worry about how he was taking it all in. They were watching him now, looks of fear on their faces.

"John?" Molly ventured. "Are you alright?"

He sucked in a breath, eyebrows furrowing. "I… I just…"

"I know," Lestrade said gently. "It's a lot to take in."

John stared at his friends with wide eyes. "How can you be so understanding of all this?" He pointed at Molly accusingly. "Especially you! Science and magic aren't supposed to mix."

She shrugged. "Yes, but it's hard to deny it once you've seen it."

"Ooh, yeah." Lestrade nodded. "You should ask Regina to show you some things. That might help."

John moaned, leaning back on the couch. "Magic exists, I walked home with Robin Hood, and my best friend has been working with the Evil Queen. Makes perfect sense."

Lestrade and Molly exchanged a look. "So you're okay with it, then?" Molly asked.

John dragged a hand over his face. "I don't know." He shook his head. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know."

Lestrade leaned closer to Molly. "I think he's taking it rather well."


The next day, Regina called Sherlock and Belle and had them come over to her office so they could work out Moriarty's past. As she waited for them to arrive, she tapped her fingers against her desk. Every second spend waiting felt wasted to her. They needed to get on top of this, and fast.

Sherlock was the first in, his coat billowing out behind him. He took one look at Regina and clucked his tongue.

"Stop worrying."

She sat up straight, glaring at him as she did. "I'm not worried."

"You've been picking at your nails and you've barely touched your coffee. You're worried."

She rolled her eyes. "Has anyone ever told you how irritating you are?"

"Yes, and you've been one of them."

Regina was saved from having to respond by Belle coming in. She politely greeted them both before sitting down in front of the desk. Sherlock grabbed his favorite chair and settled in, his knee jiggling up and down.

"Shall we get started?" Regina asked. "What do we know?"

"Moriarty was in the real world from 2010 to 2012," Sherlock stated. "And probably a bit before then, if he was able to create such a large criminal network."

"Okay, but how much before?" Belle asked.

"Well, he didn't come over with the curse," Regina said. "Otherwise he wouldn't've been able to be in London all those years."

Sherlock steepled his fingers. "So, before then. How long before the curse did you banish him?" He directed the question to Regina. She thought it over, recalling memories of him lounging in her throne room. She had to suppress a shudder.

"I'd say a year or so," she finally answered. Sherlock processed this, a concentrated frown developing on his features.

"Hold on," Belle said, raising her hand. "How old was he when you knew him, Regina?"

"Probably a few years younger than he is now."

"But how is that possible?" Belle looked from Sherlock to Regina. "The curse kept us the same age for twenty-eight years, but he was in the real world. He should have aged."

Sherlock frowned. "A spell, perhaps?"

"In the real world, though? Magic doesn't exist out there."

"Well, hold on," Regina said. "That's true, but Zelena was able to masquerade as Marian with a glamour spell in New York. Moriarty must've had something like that."

Sherlock winced, though he tried to hide it. Regina could see why he'd done it. The knowledge that Moriarty had access to magic in the real world frightened her, too. She could only imagine what Sherlock felt, considering how Sherlock had been against him. Moriarty could've destroyed him with a wave of his hand for all Sherlock knew. It was terrifying.

"So Moriarty escapes to the real world before you cast your curse," Sherlock said, gesturing to Regina. "Makes sense, he interfered in my life when I was a boy."

"What?" Belle and Regina asked at the same time. Regina chose to ignore the irrational spike of fear she felt.

Sherlock waved a hand. "That's not important. We need to focus on his life before the curse." He turned to Regina. "How long was he with you?"

"A few months at most."

"And did he give any indication about where he came from during that time?"

Regina thought about it. She and Moriarty had never shared stories about their pasts, that had been far too intimate. But there had been one thing he'd said…

"Regina, darling." He leaned over her shoulder, his breath hitting her ear and making her shiver. "You need to take what is rightfully yours. You can't let Snow White win anymore."

She gritted her teeth. "I don't intend to."

He came around to face her, his eyes glittering with malicious intent. "If there's one thing my childhood taught me, it's you can't let your enemies step all over you." He moved closer to her. "You need to crush them before they can."

Regina said those words aloud, feeling like another person was saying them for her. Belle looked uncomfortable. Sherlock tapped his fingers against his lips.

"So, he had a rough childhood," he said. "I expected as much. Did he ever say anything else?"

Regina shook her head. She wished she could've learned more about Moriarty, but she had been so consumed with killing Snow that nothing else mattered.

"Belle," Sherlock said, snapping Regina out of her thoughts. "Did he say anything to you?"

She laughed humorlessly. "What, aside from the orders he gave me?"

"Even the smallest thing could help," Regina said. Belle sighed and thought about it. After a moment, she shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry. He said nothing."

Regina slumped back in her chair. They were getting nowhere. It was stupid of them to believe they could work out the puzzle that was Moriarty. He was constantly ahead of them, and no amount of magic or research would stop him. She could feel the hopelessness settle in like a thousand pound weight.

"Regina." At Sherlock's surprisingly soft voice, she looked up. He was watching her with that intense stare of his, the one that told her he knew exactly what she was feeling. His ability to read her like a book was both terrifying and exciting.

"Think," he said, moving to the edge of his seat. "Think not about what he said to you, but about how he acted. How he dressed. How he spoke. Deduce where he came from."

She shifted in her seat. "I'm not like you, Sherlock. It was so many years ago, I don't-"

"You have to try," he said. "Just try."

Swallowing, Regina nodded. She closed her eyes in a vain attempt to pull the memories to the forefront of her mind. An image materialized on her eyelids, like a movie projector coming to life. She could picture Moriarty kneeling in her throne room, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. His clothes were ragged, like what peasants wore, but they didn't hold the same stains. Normally she could smell the stench of peasant, but she caught no whiff of it here.

So what does that tell you? she could practically hear Sherlock ask. The answer came to her easily: He was poor, but his pride prevented him from showing it. He liked to give an air of importance, of power. So, he kept his clothes and himself clean. He wanted to move up in the world. It certainly matched his desire to get power.

He knew the area. The thought came to her suddenly. He hadn't been found with a map, so he had either dumped it beforehand or he never had one in the first place. The village he had slaughtered had been far removed from the main road, it hadn't been easy to find. But somehow, he had done it.

Her eyes flew open. Belle and Sherlock were staring at her, both with concentrated expressions on their faces. They leaned forward when they saw Regina's eyes open.

"I think he was born in the Enchanted Forest," she said.

"What makes you say that?" Sherlock asked. Regina explained everything, pausing every now and then to see if Sherlock would correct her. He never did, instead nodding at her to continue. When she was finished, he sat silently for a moment.

"Well?" Belle asked. Sherlock looked at Regina. His expression was lined with something akin to pride.

"I think you may be right."

Regina pressed her lips together in an attempt to prevent herself from smiling. She got the impression it was rare for Sherlock to concede that others were correct. It felt like a major victory.

"Belle," she said instead, forcing her attention away from the detective. "Do you think you could do some research into a particular village?"

"Uh, yeah. Which one?"

"The one Moriarty slaughtered." Regina glanced at Sherlock. "I think he may have grown up there."

Without warning, Regina heard a cell phone go off on the other side of the room. Belle looked down and fetched it from her purse, apologizing. "Oh," she said, staring at the screen. "It's Will, I should really see how he is."

Regina nodded and Belle answered, leaving the room quickly. She could hear a muffled conversation in the hall. She doubted they would get more out of their meeting tonight, she had a feeling that they would all need some time adjusting to the idea that Moriarty was from their home. Besides Sherlock, perhaps, though he would need time to think it over as well.

"Why don't we call it a night?" Sherlock asked, before Regina could ask the same thing. "I've a feeling that Will wants her to visit. No doubt he isn't doing well."

Regina nodded. "I'll go let her know, you can leave if you want." She stood to walk towards the hall, but Sherlock's voice stopped her.

"Oh no, I'll walk you home. Actually, why don't you walk me? I'm sure John could use some evidence of this whole magic thing. And who better than you?" Regina smiled and nodded, then walked in to talk to Belle.


Will opened the door for his friend. He tried not to cry, but it took less than ten seconds before Belle had him in her arms, rubbing his back. She suggested they go over to the couch, and he sat, rubbing his eyes as she went to make them some tea.

"I'm sorry," he said, clenching his jaw. "I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't care about this. She's done it before, I'm just an idiot."

Belle shook her head from her place in the kitchen. "No, Will. You aren't an idiot. You love her, I'm sure if she was in your position she would be feeling the same thing right now."

Will didn't know what to think at this point. It had been so long since he and Ana had been happy, he had started thinking he never would be again. And then to have hope… and have it taken from him so quickly.

Belle came over and placed two mugs on the coffee table. Will held his face in his hands. He didn't want to talk about it, but he had a feeling that after calling her, in tears, she wouldn't let him get away with staying silent. He just didn't really feel he had anyone else to call.

"Will," Belle said. "Listen to me." He had never heard her so blunt before.

He lifted his head, trying not to let any more tears run down his face. He was frustrated beyond belief. He felt his heart beating against his ribcage and his hands shaking. "Okay."

"She's under a curse. I don't care if it's self-inflicted, he must have convinced her somehow, against her will. She doesn't know what she's doing, Will. He's controlling her. It isn't actually her. And even with all that, she let us leave. She didn't hurt me, and she didn't hurt you. She's in there, we've only got to get her out."

Will swallowed. "Okay."

"I know you love her. We'll get her out."

Will nodded. "Yeah, we will."


"So, if he's from the Enchanted Forest," Regina said, "we have a lot more digging to do. I'm sure Belle will turn some things up, but it might be beneficial to ask around, see if anyone here might have seen him, or known of him. He might have been going under a false name when I knew him." She had been rambling about Moriarty ever since she and Sherlock had left Town Hall.

"Regina," Sherlock said, grabbing hold of her arm. She looked at him and shook his hand off, pulling her blue coat in closer. "I'm sorry, it's just that I know talking about him constantly will only make you more paranoid. We have all the information we have right now, and once Belle does some research, we'll know more. But until then, you can relax."

Regina took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm sorry. It's difficult for me not to be in control." She said this while standing up straighter. Sherlock used the same methods; acting confident, seeming serious. All when he was the most scared. He nodded, understanding.

"Why don't you talk about something that makes you happy? You could do magic again if you'd like, that seemed to calm you down last time."

She smirked. "Magic isn't the only thing that makes me happy, Sherlock. I'm not some power hungry monster."

Sherlock sighed. "I know, but I don't see it as power. I see it more as art. When you do it at least, it's quite beautiful."

Regina looked up as if he had said something out of the ordinary, which confused Sherlock slightly. "I just meant that magic isn't the most important thing in my life. In fact, on the list of happy things, it barely makes it."

Sherlock frowned. "Then what is? I couldn't imagine having magic like you do, I think it might be high up on mine if I were you."

"Well there's Henry, for starters. I don't think I could love anything more than him. He's the reason I turned good. He's the reason for everything good that's happened to me. For my happy ending. And there's Robin, of course. I pinch myself every day, I still can't believe the universe granted me such an amazing person." Sherlock watched her blush. It made him smile, seeing her so happy. He wondered why he hadn't asked her about all this before. He was quite glad he was now.

Regina continued. "And I'm lucky to have Roland, now, too. We're just one happy family, but I wouldn't have it any other way. And Charming and Snow, I couldn't have done any of this without them. They remind me who I've become, and they're really the last people who should do so. And Emma cares about me, too. She's the reason I have Henry after all, and I think we're more alike than either of us like to admit. I don't know how to describe it. After everything I've done to the people in this town, I'm just lucky, that's all."

Sherlock nodded. "I think I know how you feel."

"Do you?" Regina turned her head to look at him.

Sherlock nodded, serious. "I feel the same way about John. Without him I might still be sitting shooting at the walls every day. I suppose you could say that I would trade my mind for him being a part of my life. Some things are just more important than others." He was surprised at how easily the words came from him, not really being one for sharing feelings. But then again, Regina had been incredibly honest with him. It only felt fair to repay the favor.

Regina nodded, her breath showing in the chilly night air. "Your mind, my magic. We both know there are more important things in life."

Sherlock opened the door to the apartment building and let Regina walk in. "Exactly. Shall we go and convince John of magic, then?"

Regina laughed. "Why not?"

Sherlock smirked at her before knocking on John's door. After a moment, it opened, and John eyed them warily.

"Come to give a happy announcement?" he asked. Sherlock and Regina both exchanged startled looks before Sherlock shook his head.

"Lestrade said you were having a hard time rationalizing everything," he said. He gestured to Regina. "She's offered to help you."

John straightened. "Oh." He glanced at Regina. "A magic demonstration?"

"Seeing tends to help," she said. John looked back to Sherlock, who nodded. John sighed and held his hands out.

"Go on, then, Your Majesty."

"Don't call her that," Sherlock said before Regina could even open her mouth. John blinked, startled. The faintest hint of a blush appeared on Regina's cheeks.

"Here," she said, diffusing the awkwardness. "I'll do something small."

Sherlock's body thrummed with excitement as he watched Regina conjure a fireball in her hand. The flames cast a warm glow over her face, making her eyes sparkle. It knocked the wind out of Sherlock's lungs.

"Bloody hell…" John murmured. He reached a hand out and jumped back once he felt the heat.

"You certainly like your fire," Sherlock said. Regina raised an eyebrow and extinguished the flames with a wave of her hand.

"Is there a problem with that?"

"No, no," Sherlock said. He paused. "Though it makes one wonder if there's anything else you can do."

He, of course, knew she could, but he wanted to see what she would do. He liked pushing her, teasing her. It was an unfamiliar sensation, and one he quite enjoyed.

A smirk curled at Regina's lips. With another wave of her hand, Sherlock's beloved coat disappeared. John burst out laughing at the shock on Sherlock's face.

"Oh, now this I can get behind," John said.

"What have you done with it?" Sherlock demanded. Regina shrugged, a mock-innocent expression on her face.

"You certainly like your coat," she said. "I should hope it didn't get very far."

He spun around and darted down the hall towards his own flat. He could hear John and Regina laughing, and despite his irritation at Regina's trick, he had to admit it was a nice sound.

His coat was lying over his couch, looking like he'd left it there all day. He shook his head. That woman.

Sherlock was about to rejoin John and Regina before he realized they'd stopped laughing. He expected silence, or maybe some awkward questions from John. Instead, he heard hushed voices. He loitered in his doorway, straining to hear the conversation.

"I'm sorry you and your wife have been dragged into all this," Regina was saying.

"Oh, don't worry about it. We've been dragged into worse. And Moriarty isn't exactly a new thing for us." Sherlock felt a pang of guilt at that.

"Yes, Sherlock told me."

"Yeah, um, about Sherlock…"

Sherlock pressed himself against the doorframe, getting as close to them as he could without giving himself away.

"What about him?"

John paused for a moment. "Just… thank you for putting up with him. I know he can be hard to take, but from what I hear you've been very understanding. Few people are."

"Oh." Sherlock could hear the surprise in Regina's voice. "You're… welcome, I suppose. Though you don't need to thank me about that."

"I know. But I felt like I should say something."

Sherlock didn't know what to feel, so he chose to ignore it. He stepped out of his flat, making more noise than was necessary as he walked up the hall.

"Found your coat?" John asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said. He glared at Regina. "No thanks to you."

"You're such a child," she said, though it lacked any real annoyance. She turned to John. "So? Are you feeling better about everything?"

John's gaze flitted from Regina to Sherlock. Sherlock recognized it as his thinking face, the way he looked whenever he was trying to process something important. It was gone in a second, replaced by a tentative expression.

"Well, it's still going to take a while to accept I'm living amongst fairytale characters. But the magic certainly helped."

Regina smiled. "Good. And if you need anything else, or your wife, just let me know."

John smiled back. "Thank you, Regina."

She looked to Sherlock. "I should be getting home. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"It's rather dark," Sherlock said. "Maybe I should walk you home, in case Moriarty is out and about."

John was shooting him an incredulous look. Sherlock didn't really know why he had offered, but he wasn't too displeased with the idea.

Regina shook her head. "That's alright. I can just do this."

She lifted her hands up in the air, drawing a purple cloud around herself. When it dissipated, all that remained was an empty space.

"Whoa." John shook his head a bit. "Yeah, that's still gonna take some time."


A/N: Thanks for reading! We're approaching some exciting events, so get ready for it. If you've enjoyed this chapter, please let us know, we love hearing from you!