Later that evening, after Walter the hospital security guard, or Sleepy the dwarf, had long since fallen asleep, Caleb received another visitor. Regina's form was draped in pale moonlight, giving her an ethereal, ghostly presence. She stepped into the room without preamble. Her dark, venomous eyes fixed on Caleb, full of suspicion and loathing. Caleb straightened up in bed. He made certain to shield the back of his neck from view. The golden pentacle tingled with magic. He grinned darkly.

"Why hello there mommy dearest. How nice of you to come visit me."

"Why are you here?" Regina demanded. She wore her usual mask of absolute calmness, yet her voice shook with anger.

"Turns out bullets do a lot of damage" Caleb said, wiggling what he could of his battered body. "Thought I'd get myself fixed up."

"Why are you here?" she repeated, temper rising. A short knife glittered in her hand. It was for show, mostly. She'd read what she could of Gold's contract before it turned to dust. A standard document protection charm. Anyone who wasn't supposed to see it held it for too long, it disintegrated. All she'd had time to read was the signatures. But despite her wish to see this boy dead and gone, she couldn't kill him. If she did that, Gold wouldn't be bound by the contract anymore. And she needed him bound by something. Otherwise, he'd be completely unimpeded, and would be free to deter her own plans.

"Jumping straight to my motivation?" Caleb asked, unfazed by the knife. "No questioning my identity first? No feeble attempt to keep pretending you're just the mayor? I'm disappointed, I expected a lengthy interrogation. The movies lied to me."

"I know who you are" Regina snapped. "Gold showed me. Henry Swan...Faith unending...I didn't believe at first, but then I saw the wraith." Nine years of age had changed him radically, but now the resemblance was clear. He had Henry's jaw line, his smile, and his eyes, apart from the mistiness. They had the same defiant glint as their ten year old counterparts. The mistiness confused her. He was fae blooded, it seemed. But what fairy would willingly relinquish their magic, their family, and perhaps even their lives, just to imbue him with power? Time travel was troublesome business.

Even among the darkest of sorcerers, time was a form of magic not to be tampered with. The elemental magics of water, earth, fire and air, were the basic building blocks that made up every spell or charm. But time held it all together. Time could erase everything, recreate the world in the blink of an eye. Who knew what sort of secrets this boy may be hiding? She'd have to tread carefully. Again she asked. "Why are you here?"

"Because something needed changing" he answered. "Someone has to clean up the mess you've made. May as well be me."

"You'd betray me that easily?" Something almost resembling pain flashed over her expression, replaced in an instant with fiery contempt. "After all I've done for you? After I raised you? You'd cast it all aside just like that, make a deal with Gold just to spite me?"

"All you've done for me, highness?" Caleb sneered. "You raised me like I was your little pet. That was what you thought I'd be, isn't it? You assumed the curse would affect anyone within city limits. You expected me to stay a baby forever, needing you, loving you without question. But then I started growing up. I grew up in a world where only I got any older. I had no real friends, but did you do anything about it? No, you just kept me all to yourself, like a puppy, and when I asked why I was different, why the few friends I did have were suddenly two years younger than me, you slapped me. Yeah, highness, you raised me, but you did it for your sake, not mine. Don't play the loving single mother card here, I know who you really are. I've seen the things you've done."

His speech ended in a staring match, misty blue on hard iron. No visible reaction showed on the queen's face. She took a step closer, expression smug and condescending, as if speaking to someone of very low intelligence who'd just made an obvious blunder.

"What I've done?" she repeated mockingly. "My God, you're just like the rest of them, Snow and the insolent wretches she calls friends, so persistent in believing in what's 'good' and 'right'. Understand this, boy. When all has ended, when time comes to a stop and all the lands of all the realms crumble to nothingness, good and evil are just words. In the end, only power remains. I have power" purple sparks danced across her free hand, her knuckles whitened on the knifes' hilt. She lowered her face to his, leaving scarcely half a foot between them. "Might. Is. Right."

Were Caleb any other person right now he'd be trembling in fear. This was the evil queen, in whose wake monsters trembled and kingdoms crumbled. But she hadn't frightened Caleb in many years. He laughed.

"If you wanted me to be an amoral megalomaniac you probably shouldn't have made Jiminy Cricket my therapist." Another laugh. "You have power? No, highness. You may have a lot of flashy magic and armored goons at your disposal, but when it comes down to it you don't have any power at all. Rumplestiltskin designed the curse, not you. All you did was murder your father in cold blood to activate it. The curse set you up at the top in this world. Mayor, with her fingers in everyone's business. Everything that goes on in this town, you have something to do with. Everyone's in a position where they're easy to control. Snow White's a meek little school teacher. Prince Charming was a coma patient, until recently at least. The Huntsman was your lover. And you've got Belle in the psyche ward about forty feet below us. I intend to free her soon, by the way.

If today's the day I think it is you gave Rumpelstiltskin a tea cup this afternoon. Funny, in my time line you let Emma see me for thirty minutes so you could talk alone with him. There was no hostage situation to earn her back her right to see me. You use any way you can to keep in control. Gave the wraith that assault rifle, didn't you? Agreed to help Stiltskin off me? That shows who's really in control here. The wraith serves 'Stiltskin, not you. 'Stiltskin knows how the curse works, and so do I. You don't. So go ahead and make all the threats you want, highness. I'm not scared of you, 'cause in the long run, you're just a liability. A minor obstacle between me and the real enemy. Do what you want mother, I'll be there to stop you. Game on, bitch."

The queen said nothing for almost an entire minute. She looked over Caleb's body again, taking in the scars and the tattoo. Idly, she wondered how many of those scars she was responsible for. Apparently this boy had waged war against her, and those who fought against her had a tendency to end up either dead or mutilated beyond recognition. Her boy wouldn't grow into this rebellious nuisance. She'd see to that. Perhaps what Henry needed was discipline. Giving him a few of those scars preemptively would set him straight. Good sons obeyed their mothers.

"Good to see you haven't lost your passion with age" she said calmly. "When you put your mind to something you always stick to it, don't you? Good speech, by the way. Must have taken you ages to memorize it all. But regardless of your little delusions, we have a game to play, don't we? No matter what you might say, I seem to hold all the cards right now. Gold has all the power? Yes, but he won't use it, and when the time is right, it will be mine. My, my, it's quite the game board you've set up between us, Henry dear. Best hope you haven't bitten off more than you can chew. Well then, let the games begin. Until next time, " she turned on her heel and stepped towards the door.

That was it, really. All that needed to be said had been said. The heroic speeches had been given, the villainous monologues recited. All that remained now was the war itself. With Caleb and Mr. Gold's pieces already pitched in battle, adding the queen's forces to the board put a whole new spin on the game. Yet there was still something Caleb felt he should say, something that was a source of great conflict between his sense of morality, and his personal desire to see justice done. The queen's hand closed on the doorknob.

"It's kind of tragic, really" Caleb called after her in a light, almost singsong voice. "The way you've gone down this road."

The queen stopped. She peered over her shoulder, looking completely uninterested. She was wearing her mask again, Caleb knew. Trying to seem like everything was under her control, as it had been for nearly three decades.

"And what, may I ask, do you mean by that?" she asked disinterestedly.

"You could be good, you know" Caleb said. "I've seen you do good before, even if it was just a little. You did good once, and you can do good again."

The queen's brows shot up.

"Are you honestly trying what I think you are? 'Redemption'? Are you really so childish as to try that? Rather backward tactics considering you just declared me your enemy."

"Not backwards, right" Caleb corrected. "A great man, well, a great cricket once told me that no one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes. Anyone capable of love is capable of redemption. I'm only gonna offer you this once, and admittedly part of me doesn't wanna offer it at all. It's the right thing to do, I know, but the other part of me wants to rip your throat out right here and now."

"How violent of you" the queen quipped back, silver tongue flicking out replies with ease. "Have I really garnered that much hatred from you? All I ever did to you was keep a roof over your head, feed you, clothe you. Hardly things worth butchering me over."

"You killed the girl I love" Caleb deadpanned. His eyes could have cut diamonds. "Right in front of me. That's what you did." He breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. His wrists shook in their cuffs. "Please," he started again, only the slightest amount of pleading showing through the words. "Please, before I lose my temper and take it back at least consider it. War is coming soon, and you don't have be against us when it comes. Help us! There's still time to make up for what you've done, for what you'll do. We'll welcome you back with open arms. We can forgive you. Please just...please."

In those words resonated the last shred of him that still loved her. From the time he was a small child that part of him had shrank and shrank as he slowly discovered her true nature. But even after discovering she was the evil queen and witnessing her enact countless atrocities, she still was, despite the vileness of her love, his mother. One of his mothers. A long silence fall over the room. It was soon broken by the queens shrill laughter.

"You sound just like your grandmother," she said, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. "Offering forgiveness and love when the enemies knife is at your throat. It's pathetic really. Grovelling at the feet of your betters, a cleverly disguised plea for mercy. No, I don't think I'll be taking that offer of yours. I'd much rather crush you like the insect you are. As you said, game on. "

She turned back to the door.

"Well, I've enjoyed this little talk we've had Henry" she sounded like a regular mother, talking with her child about the changes brought on by puberty. But the venom was clear in her sweet words. A viper, poised to strike. "Perhaps when you're feeling a little better we'll have another one. Good night."

Slipping from the room she slinked past the still sleeping Walter and exited the west wing. Caleb laid back heavily. He hadn't really expected her to accept mercy. Her heart was still capable of love, yes. But her heart was still black inside. Fate, it seemed, was determined to lead the queen to her destruction. Closing his eyes, Caleb concentrated on the golden pentacle adorning his neck. It felt good to have even the smallest trickle of magic back in his system. Letting that trickle spread through his system, he reached out with his mind and felt for the four others bearing pentacles.

There they were, spread out in two pairs. Emma and Snow, Henry and Arienna.

"Mithran" Caleb hissed through clenched teeth. The pentacle's magic went taut like harp strings. Bound together by the enchantment, the five minds met. And Kemigree began.


Henry was sprawled over his bed back to front, his feet resting on his pillow up against the headboard, his head dangling off the edge. This position gave him a good view of his ceiling, which was covered in plastic glow-in-the dark stars that glowed green in the semi darkness of his bedroom. The pajamas he wore were old ones he hadn't worn in ages. Peter Pan one's with the lost boys playing chasing fairies from the bottom of his leggings to the sleeves of his shirt.

A variety of comic books were spread out on the bed around him. Some were single issues bound in plastic sleeves and cardboard backs to keep them straight. Others were hardcover trade editions, issues bound together in larger volumes. Those were much easier to read, because it kept all the issues in chronological order. Most of them were superhero comics, Captain America, his favorite, Iron man, the Incredible Hulk, they were all there.

A series he'd gotten into recently was Fables, a story of fairy tale characters exiled to the real word by a dark and ominous force. It reminded him of his own situation, but before he'd gotten more than three issues in the queen had taken them away. Not because they were fairy tales, but because they had a lot of blood gore, and nudity in them. A parent was a parent, evil witch or not.

And while the loss of yet another mode of escapism bothered him, he still missed his book, his thoughts were occupied by other things. He scratched at the pentacle on the back of his neck. Arienna had sketched it there earlier that morning. Drawing one on her neck had been much harder. Her neck was tiny, even thinner than his little finger. Fairy magic was fascinating, he'd discovered. Every spare moment throughout the day he'd whispered fairy related questions into his pocket. He'd only gotten answers a handful of time, but that was hardly Arienna's fault. Because of the hostage situation the day before school had been called off to let the victims, and their parents, calm down. So Henry had spent most of the day either having an extended session with Archie, that had taken up most of the morning, or messing around at the playground while the queen and the other parents watched anxiously from the nearby benches.

The queen had been awfully affectionate that day, smothering him with hugs, kisses, constantly asking if he was okay. It was a welcome change to the authoritarian coldness she usually displayed, but it still seemed...off. She'd spent almost the entire day with him, until she'd went to the police station for some reason. Apparently, Emma's heroism had earned her the right to see him again. Not that he'd seen her yet. She was coming over for dinner the next day, the towns media would be all over that, the town hero dining with the mayor. But still, he missed her. A few days apart had been harder than he expected.

He ran his fingers over his wrist. It tingled hauntingly. Surprisingly enough, having a gun held to his head hadn't terrified him nearly as much as it should of. It had petrified him, of course. But what really got to him, really niggled at his fears and imprinted itself on his nightmares was the orange eyed Caleb. The wraith, a dark copy, as Arienna had described it. She didn't know much about them, wraiths were the creations of dark magicians, but what she did know was more than enough to scare him silly. A dark copy, an equal and opposite to its counterpart, an unstoppable monster that would only truly die if it's counterpart died. And this wraith's counterpart was Caleb. And Caleb was Henry from the future.

That was probably the coolest thing Henry had ever heard. Himself from the future? That was awesome! In fact the sheer awesomeness of it was nearly enough to make him forget the wraith all together. Almost. Thank god this 'Kemigree' Caleb had told Arienna to prepare was coming soon. He had at least a thousand questions to ask like, 'Where did you get the scars?' 'How can you talk to wolves?' and, 'Can you show me how to use a sword?'. Swords were his favorite fantasy weapon. All his favorite characters used a sword at some point. Swords were the weapons of heroes, champions, and had a grace about them that weapons like guns lacked. He thought using a sword would be really cool.

Lifting his head slightly, he glanced over at his dresser. His jacket was slung over the top of it, forming a makeshift curtain.

"Any of that stuff fit, Arienna?" The fairy's tiny head popped out from behind the curtain.

" A few things. None of it's really...my sort of clothing though." Strewn about the dresser and the surrounding floor was Henry's entire action figure collection, each and every one stripped of it's garments. Arienna's single woolen dress was getting dirty and worn, and since Henry lacked the barbie doll clothes a girl would have, the miniature superhero and soldier outfits would have to do. She tossed a stand of garments out from behind the curtain. The captain america suit wouldn't work, it was far too baggy. Neither would the Batman costume. She liked the cape, but she hated black. Fairies loved vibrant colors, reds and yellows and oranges. Black just wouldn't work.

"Have you tried the Phoenix one?" Henry asked.

"Phoenix?" she asked, stepping out from behind the curtain, her body wrapped in Batman's cape. Her wings showed clearly beneath the fabric, two bulging lumps that twitched every few seconds. "Which is that?" She was of course unfamiliar with superheroes. Comics, unfortunately, were not part of the fairy tale world.

"Yeah" Henry said. He rolled over and tip toed to the dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer. Pushing aside mounds of folded shorts he pulled out a dusty cardboard box with a plastic viewing screen in the front. It read 'Jean Grey-White Phoenix of the Crown' on the front "Can't believe I forgot about this one." Carefully opening the box, he lifted out the action figure, a red headed woman with a curvaceous body. Her costume was pure white with gold gloves and ribbons at the wrists, a gold belt, and a golden bird emblem emblazoned on the chest.

"Phoenix," Henry whispered as he removed the costume. "The most powerful X-men ever. Here, try it on" he offer it to her between his thumb and index finger. Tentatively, Arienna took the garment and weighed it in her hands, examining it.

"Interesting" she muttered. "It's similar to the robes of our priestesses, except that it lacks the outer robe. Yes, I think this will do nicely, thank you." She turned and moved back into the curtain. "I have to ask though," she said over her shoulder. "Why do you have all these miniature automatons lying about? They're fascinating, especially the clothing. I've never seen anything like them." Henry shrugged.

"I collect 'em. They're fun to play with, you know, like pretend with. Don't fairies ever play pretend?"

"Oh yes. My friends and I love to reenact scenes from the texts of the Goddess. Usually we'll do that in the morning before the sun rises, then we play Ukodebed."

"Ukodebed?" Henry questioned curiously. He sat back down in front of his bed, twiddling his thumbs idly. "What's that?"

"A game, similar to the 'tag' children of this world play. Except that it involves a magical ball, and quite a lot of flying." She stuck her head out from behind the curtain, smiling. "Perhaps when this curse is broken I can show you. Humans are capable of flying if they're dowsed in enough fairy dust." Her face became stony and nervous. Slowly, she stepped out into the open. "Am I presentable?"

Henry gasped. The golden ribbons cascaded wonderfully at her wrists. Her raven hair framed her ovular face perfectly, and though the suit didn't conform perfectly to her body, she was no less than a goddess fallen to earth. Henry found himself blushing furiously. Arienna looked at her feet, crestfallen.

"You do not like it," she said sadly, turning to reenter her makeshift dressing room.

"No, no, no!" Henry stuttered trying to call her back. He glanced nervously at the bedroom door, which he'd padlocked shut just in case. The queen's was still snoring strong, but he couldn't be too careful. It would be disastrous if she were to walk in during the Kemigree. "No," he said again, more quietly this time. Arienna turned back hopefully. Henry grinned. "You look awesome."

Arienna smiled. Her cheeks glowed pink. She tugged at the costumes fabric. It was surprisingly comfortable, especially considering it was made for a plastic doll.

"Thank you, Henry."

They both looked away grinning, trying vainly to hide the coloring of their faces. Henry knew girls weren't supposed to be pretty, they were girls! But Arienna did look good. Maybe she was the exception that proved the rule. Having friends who were girls was confusing. Hopefully that would get easier with time.

Suddenly, an electrifying pulse shot down their necks. Henry yelped. Arienna squeaked. The golden pentacles shimmered to life, flashing gold light on the walls like a pair of strobe lights.

"It's starting" Arienna grunted, lying down on the dresser. "Lay back. The pain will pass quickly." Henry obeyed at once, lowering himself onto his back. His eyes slammed shut.

Almost at once the erratic sensations were gone, soon replaced by a strange humming that emanated from all around him, like the distant chirps of a thousand crickets.

His eyes opened, and another awe filled gasp escaped his lips.

He stood on a familiar stretch of grass by the sea. Silvery waves broke on the rocky shore. And there, where it had once stood in the waking world, was his castle, rotted wood and all. Untold joy filled his heart. This was his playground just as he remembered it. Beyond the playground and a hundred feet or so worth of ocean the rest of Storybrooke and the bordering forest was shrouded in mist, blurred and unfocused like it wasn't really there at all. Arienna hovered just above his shoulder, taking in the scenery. She wasn't quite as impressed. She'd done this before, though she hadn't seen the first castle before.

Off to the right he heard a series of loud popping noises. Emma and Snow appeared out of nowhere. Emma in her trademark red jacket, Snow wearing what she usually dressed in for school. Pentacles hone brightly on their necks.

"Emma! Nan!" he cried. He ran to them and nuzzled his face in his mother's stomach. She ruffled his hair affectionately. Her face was weary and lined. She quirked a brow.

"Nan?"

"Uh huh," Henry said as he moved to give Snow a hug. "It's what I call her now. Can't just call her Miss Blackhard anymore, can I? She's my grandma!" Snow chuckled, kissing the top of his head.

"I can get used to that."

"Right" Emma said, taking a few steps toward the castle. She looked around suspiciously. "So this is the Kemigree you've told me about, Snow. Any idea what we do now?

"Not exactly" Snow answer, moving to stand beside her daughter. "I've only ever done this once before, and that was years ago. Caleb should be here, I assumed he'd be the central point in all this. Is he, Arienna?" The fairy princess nodded. In this misty world of dreams the dust from her wings hung thicker in the air, creating a mound of colorful clouds that hung about her for a few seconds longer than usual.

"He is. I'm not sure where he is. He should be here."

"I'm right here!" The four of them turned to see Caleb standing atop the castle, grinning like a madman. A blue tunic covered a set of armored plates that interlinked at his shoulders and hips. A white swan covered his chest, and the pentacle on his neck shone brightest of all. A sword, long and sheathed, hung at his belt. He jumped down to the ground and spread his arms wide.

"Welcome my friends, to my mind." He jabbed a thumb at the castle. "She can't bulldoze this one. Storms can't get it either. In my mind, my fortress stands forever."

"What are you wearing?" Emma asked, arms folded. Her gaze was fixed on the swan insignia.

"Oh, this?" Caleb peered down at his body. "Just my uniform. This is what you wear when you're part of an army." He looked back up. "Guess you guys have a lot of questions, don't you. I've kept you waiting long enough." Henry's mouth opened. Caleb raised a hand to stop him.

"I'll get to your questions kid, know you got a million of 'em. One sec." He stepped forward and pulled Snow into a tight embrace. She accepted it gratefully. "Good to see you with your memory back, Nan. I've missed you." She smiled sadly into his tunic.

"You're part of an army," her eyes moved to Henry. "How did that happen?" Caleb sighed, breaking away. He paced around a few steps before speaking again.

"That's a really complicated story. A lot happened in nine years. The years that made him in to me," he made a gesture at Henry. "But before I get to that, let me humor little me. If I know him, and I do, then he wants some proof I'm really him." He lowered himself to one knee so he was at Henry's eyes level. His younger self approached eagerly. They're nearly identical eyes met.

"Your favorite movie's Finding Nemo. Pixar's great, isn't it? Love those guys. Favorite superhero, Captain America. Favorite fruit, tangerines. Least favorite fruit, apples, for obvious reasons. First crush, Gretel. Happened about a month or two ago from your perspective." The ten year old turned red as a beet. "Aww, don't be embarrassed kid. She's the first girl you ever really talked to. When the curse starts breaking she's a great friend, and you're the same age. Made her really happy to not be a seventh grader for another twenty eight years. Junior high's hard enough as it is. And, your greatest wish," he pulled Henry closer and whispered in his ear.

Henry nodded, content.

"Yup, he's me alright." His grin matched his scarred counterparts. "Wow this is awesome." Snow and Caleb chuckled. Emma wasn't as convinced. Her face was blank and stony.

"Still a bit skeptical, Emma?" Caleb asked. "That's more than understandable. I'd be worried if you trusted me that quickly. That's nothing like you at all. Well, maybe some info will help to sway you. Do you remember the day you met the writer? The one with the motorcycle?" If anything, this only confused Emma more.

"Yeah. He rolled into town just after Michael Tillman took Ava and Nicholas home. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Quite a lot, actually." Caleb said knowingly. "And you're wrong. That's when we met him," he pointed between himself and Henry. "Not when you met him. You met him on the day you were born." Four sets of perplexed eyes stared at him. "Don't know what I'm talking about, do you? That's okay. You can hardly be expected to remember that, and the writer's certainly changed a lot since then. He was the seven year old who found you on the highway." Emma couldn't speak.

"How is that possible?" Snow asked for her.

"His family are the descendants of the Brother's Grimm" Caleb answered. "They have the ability to see into our world. That's where they got the stories from, seeing them happen in their dreams. So the writer felt the wardrobe portal open, and he was drawn to Emma. He could tell she was special. All his life he aspired to be a writer, but he could hardly ever write a thing. He couldn't see into our world, because the curse meant it wasn't there to see. So, after twenty eight years, he was drawn to Storybrooke and the secrets it holds. He's the one who dug up your book, kid."

"Great!" he just knew there was something strange about that guy! And now it turned out there was something strange and magical about him. The ten year old looked around eagerly. "Is he here too?"

"Nah, kid. I sent him off somewhere with a friend of mine. He's where he needs to be. Don't worry about the book, I remember everything in it. I can make us a new one."

"You've got me interested" Emma interjected. "Tell me more." It wasn't a request. Caleb nodded.

"I can do better than that. I can show you."

He raised his hands and the playground around them began to dissolve and blur like the surrounding town and forest. Henry oohed and ahhed at the shifting reality. The blurring swirled and contorted, reshaping as Caleb let the magic flow from the pentacle. Eyes closed, he began to speak.

"Admittedly, my plans haven't gone exactly as I'd hoped. Obviously I didn't plan on getting shot. Bullets hurt a lot more than I thought. The wraith came through to this time much quicker than expected. Nan, in case you're wondering, the reason we can't wake up Pop yet, that's what I call Charming, is because the curse is centered on the two of you. Waking you and him up too close together could cause the whole thing to collapse on top us. Like what happened in my timeline. That, and, he's too reckless. He'd want to go and lop the queens head off right away, you have more self control."

"It's being tested right now, believe me" said Snow. The few days since she'd recovered her memory had been difficult. The curse seemed to split her personality, or at least bring what she considered her greatest weaknesses to the forefront. Mary Margaret was all meekness and kindness. And while those were important parts of her personality, there was more to Snow White than love and goodness. There was also the fiery part of her. The part that wielded swords and scaled castle walls. The part that would fight back against the queen. That was the part the queen wanted suppressed.

"Believe me, Nan" Caleb grinned. "I know how much you want to hurt her for what she's done. And you'll get your chance. Now" the swirling dreamscape slowly began to solidify. "Kemigree is designed to share memories. It's meant for fairies, but it works just as well with humans. These are my memories of what happened. It all starts two years from now, from your perspective at least. That's when the curse started to break, and that's when everything went wrong."

They now stood on a street in Storybrooke. Another Emma, a memory version of her, clad in the same red leather jacket, stood leaning against her yellow bug. She stood across the street from a small building with giant red letters declaring it KTA, Korean Taekwondo Academy. A memory version of Henry exited the building wearing a white martial arts outfit; a blue belt tipped with red tied around his waist. The present version of Henry stared. He was at least two inches taller, and his hair had gotten longer and shaggier, reaching almost to his shoulders.

"Yeah," Caleb said. "You do finally get to take martial arts classes. They were a lot of fun, I remember. We had a class the morning it all started." He looked to Snow. "The morning of you and Pop's wedding, Nan. Your second wedding, as David and Mary Margaret."

Now, I originally intended to have Caleb's memory in this chapter, but then I realized how long it was getting. I'm starting the next chapter right now, I just didn't want the chapters to be inconsistent in length. Okay, Caleb's memory is the first scene I came up with, and his backstory is what I've built this whole story around. Hope you guys like it. Please Review! Thanks Happy reading.