Nothing Comes from Nothing
A Swan Queen Story

Author: parakitty
Co-Author / Beta: Lain Stardust

General Disclaimer(s): Refer to Part 1.

Author's Note: Wow, another part! Yay for co-authors who are wonderful spouses. Several important plot points are revealed and/or explained in this part. Some other plot points will tease and tinkle, but remember, everything has a purpose. And all will be clarified in due time. We have a plan! Please note that several scenes are happening concurrently and/or in quick succession. So, there's a bit of overlap there, but it shouldn't be too confusing. Lastly, did you enjoy the fluff in Part 8? If not, I'll tell my co-author no more unscripted fluff and keep a tight lid on such things until later, much later.

Thank You for all of the reviews, likes, favorites, follows and kudos. Your feedback inspires us to write faster. We like reading your theories and speculations.

~SQ~

PART 9

As the Charger rolled across the town line, the air in the vehicle grew thick with static electricity, everyone's hair beginning to stand on end. Emma's gaze cut to the woman next to her, taking in the clenched fists, tightly closed eyes, and the way her body was shuddering slightly. She felt the bond suddenly flare, Regina's magic pushing hard against her. "Oh no," she muttered. They'd already had one close call on the highway. She had to get her out in the open—fast. Quickly braking and slamming the car into park, she whispered, "Hang on, Regina," and hurried out of the vehicle. The blonde rushed around to the passenger's side, flinging open Regina's door and fumbling with the seatbelt before finally pulling her out of the car.

Regina felt the magic of Storybrooke hit her like a blow to the solar plexus, and she gasped as it rushed into her almost viciously, stealing her breath and tensing her muscles. She was drowning in the amount of energy flooding her, feeling the air start to crackle around her as the excess tried to find an outlet to keep from frying her synapses. Only vaguely aware of the cool rush of air when her door opened, or the frantic hands tugging at her seatbelt, the brunette allowed herself to be drawn from the vehicle, too overloaded to resist the manhandling.

Emma slipped her left shoulder under her friend's right arm, holding her tightly to support her weight while moving them several yards away from the Charger, worried about Henry and the new car. The blonde maintained her hold on the former mayor, feeling the magic forming rapidly, uneasy with the strength of it as it seemed to probe at her edges, seeking a weak spot. Then, it peaked, brilliant purple sparks erupting around them as Regina's magic finally broke loose, writhing chaotically in a building electrical storm, with them in the center. Lightning burst in the darkening clouds above and chained out in the direction of town, snapping up the oxygen and creating dazzling flickers in its wake.

Regina panted under the force that was coursing through her. She felt like her body was trying to drag in every erg of energy about her only to release it again when it found no place to settle within her. The temperature dropped several degrees as all heat quit the area, their breaths leaving them in heavy puffs of white mist, frost materializing on the pavement. The brunette mutely observed ice crystals form on Emma's eyelashes. Absurdly, she wondered how she could be so cold since the environment had seceded its warmth to her, fueling the growing storm. If not for the blonde's strong arms, she would have already collapsed under the onslaught.

Thunderclaps boomed overhead as several bolts of lightning struck the ground nearby, one crashing into a tree and catching it on fire. The former mayor shivered violently from the sudden cold and the vast amount of power she was channeling. Her eyes glowed violet as the magic began to consume her, and panic clawed its way to the surface as the idea formed that she might not be able to control the tempest. She shifted in the sheriff's arms, twisting in an attempt to escape, trying to push her away. Features distorted with anguish, she ordered, "Let me go. I can't control it."

Shaking her head adamantly, Emma adjusted to the brunette's struggles, managing to wrap her up in a bear hug, refusing to relinquish her hold on the other woman. She stared into terrified eyes and insisted, "No! I'm not leaving you." The sheriff felt Regina's forearms, trapped between their bodies, push against her chest. "We're in this together," she declared through teeth gritted against the little shocks that were lighting her skin.

"You'll only get hurt!" the brunette yelled over the thunder, fear increasing her struggle to break free and causing a spike in the magical storm. She jerked at the distant sound of electrical transformers exploding in the town, her bare fists clutching traitorously at the collar of Emma's red leather jacket. Tears of frustration and hurt tracked down her face as she started to accept that she didn't have the strength to fight this. She was going to die and take Emma with her because of the damned bond, and Henry was going to grow up without either of his mothers and no one to protect him.

Regina released a shriek of fury and grief as everything she had gained over the last two months was about to disappear. The storm raged around them in a frenzy, her feelings whipping the chaos to a fever pitch. Emma cringed, and her heart broke a little at her friend's wail of raw emotion. She wanted to help so badly, but all she could think to do was to keep the brunette clasped as closely as possible and let her know she wasn't alone.

And in that moment of despair and pandemonium, their bond awakened, galvanized into action, its elegantly cruel design at last fully revealed. The brunette watched in fascination as Emma's magic left the blonde in a blue fog, wisps wrapping Regina in a gentle caress of diffuse light and smoke that seeped into her skin. She permitted herself to take a clean breath of air, a brief instant of calm that lulled her into relaxing the faintest bit, the storm suspended in a pregnant pause.

Then the pain found her. Soft tendrils of blue became sharp scourges against her flesh, flails that arced outward, wrenching back the purple streaks of her own magic. Regina was caught in a spasm as she felt Emma's magic claim dominion over hers, plucking the turbulence from the atmosphere and savagely driving it back into her shaking body. There was a fleeting thought of betrayal until she saw the dismay in green eyes, a sick understanding reaching her as the bond did its job. She couldn't stop the scream that ripped from her throat as the cold was aggressively burned away with a current of cerulean power that scorched her bones. The conquest was violent and merciless as her magic was forced into submission, as she was made to surrender wholly or be ripped apart.

Emma stared in horror as her magic leapt out of her and wrested control of the brunette and her power. It happened without her volition, the bond almost a separate awareness, demanding obedience for her unwilling role in the furious coup. "Regina!" she cried out in alarm when it assaulted the woman in her arms. Frantically, she tried to grasp at the blue threads of her magic, feeling it continually slip from her metaphysical fingers. The blonde sucked in a deep breath when their eyes managed to meet, stunned at the forgiveness that shone back at her from the amethyst irises.

The complete trust in that gaze helped ground the sheriff, panic receding just enough that she could actually think instead of simply reacting. Emma forced herself to consider long hours of training with the woman in her arms, how she had stressed protection and defense as her strongest abilities. Regina's scream was encouragement enough to change tactics. So, instead of trying to fight the bond, she let her instincts guide her and concentrated on how she felt at that moment. Her fear and worry were at the forefront, but the fierce protectiveness she bore for the brunette quickly followed. She latched onto it. That was going to be what saved them both.

A few heartbeats passed without change, and Emma was beginning to doubt herself when she noticed the subtle shift in the bond. It seemed to slow, no longer brutally attempting to dominate Regina's magic, settling to quiescence over the span of several interminable seconds. At last, the blonde's magic was her own, again. She was amazed to find the former mayor still conscious, watching her with disquieting eyes that still glowed brightly. Her power was gentle and lulling, once more, coaxing and weaving through the brunette's magic as it seemed to be doing with increasing frequency. Able to speak again, she worriedly asked, "Are you okay?" knowing the question fell far short of conveying the extent of her concern.

Regina released a sob of relief when Emma finally mastered the bond and brought an end to the torture. She nodded and clung desperately to the sheriff as she gasped and sagged against Emma, utterly spent, the energy around them gradually calming as their magic continued to intermingle. She exhaled shakily as the remnants of the storm reversed course and fell into the her like an implosion, leaving nothing but silence in its wake. Leaning her head on the blonde's shoulder, she trembled as the loose power rushed back into her body, cushioned by Emma's magic. She let golden strands blanket her face while she inhaled deeply of the minty shampoo and felt the, now soft, blue coils tenderly soothe the rawness that buzzed along her nerves.

Selfishly, the former mayor stayed in the warm embrace, content to breathe in the scent of the woman holding her while she found her center and let her power fully settle. She heard the quiet sigh as Emma finally relaxed against her, the blonde's magic sliding against hers until they merged for a split second. It was similar to the moment in New York when the blonde had prevented her from immolating Neal. But this was warmer, an unexpected burst of brightness in her chest that stunned her with its clarity. Snapping her head up, she locked gazes with Emma, seeing the same sense of astonishment reflected in her large eyes. Quickly, she looked away but remained in the blonde's supportive hold as she straightened and turned to see the Charger safe under a magical barrier. A relieved grin pulled at her lips, and she commented hoarsely, "It looks like your protective magic has fully manifested."

Wide-eyed, Emma nodded absently. "Uh, yeah." She paused to gather her disordered thoughts, wondering just what was happening to their magic. Not comfortable with the heavy silence and wanting to get to the bottom of things, she blurted, "What the hell was that?"

"My best guess is that I was overwhelmed by the magic of Storybrooke," the brunette replied, skirting the alternate reason for the blonde's question. She was quiet for a few beats, eventually saying, "And if I'm not mistaken, we've just discovered the true purpose of the binding spell."

Emma winced apologetically, babbling, "I'm so sorry, Regina. I didn't mean to—"

"It wasn't your fault, Emma," she cut her off, a soft smile gracing her features as she looked at her friend. "I felt the way the bond reacted. You brought it to heel, mastered it instead of letting it master me." Her smile faded and venom laced her words as she added, "However, I do believe a chat with Rumpelstiltskin is in order."

Catching the cold glint in eyes that were once again a dark brown, the blonde grumbled, "Convenient that he's been poisoned."

"Oh, I'll just have to cure him so I can give him the thrashing he deserves," Regina snarled, starting toward the car with slow but steady steps. Chuckling darkly, she added, "We wouldn't want him to die prematurely. It would ruin all my fun."

Deciding the brunette was well within her rights to exact some vengeance on the devious imp, Emma only grunted in agreement, touching the bubble protecting the car and watching it shimmer out of existence.

The back doors opened, and Neal stepped out, leaning on the top of the door, face white in shock. Henry scrambled out and ran to his mothers, coming to a confused stop before them. "Are you guys okay?" he asked tremulously, looking between the two, unsure whether he should hug them or keep his distance.

They solved the mystery for him by pulling him into a joint hug, Emma feeling him nuzzle his face against her stomach as Regina crouched and pressed her hands into his small back, resting her cheek on his dark hair. "We're alright, Kid," the blonde reassured him warmly.

The sound of running feet slapping against the pavement pulled their attention around, and they looked up to see Diego Flores hurrying toward them. "Your Highness," he panted harshly, struggling to regain his breath. "I saw the storm. Are you well?" the anxiety in his voice was thick, and it was a welcome reminder to the former mayor that she had allies in Storybrooke.

"Well enough," she replied, studying the heavy stubble on his normally clean-shaven visage. "What are you doing this close to the town's border?" she queried, apprehensive about what his presence this far out could mean.

"I've been camping here, waiting for you to return." Glancing briefly at Henry, he informed them, "Cora has the Dark One's dagger."

Emma shifted nervously on her feet, having hoped that they'd have a little more time before this particular turn of events. "That's just freakin' great," she exploded, throwing her arms up in the air. Was it too much to ask for a break on this trip into insanity?

Pursing her lips, Regina stalked to the driver's side of the Charger, sliding into the seat and closing the door before anyone else could react. She put the window down and asked Diego, "You have your bike, I presume?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said sharply. "I'll lead the way," he stated, jogging down the road without further ado.

The others belatedly clambered back into the car, getting knocked back in their seats as, at the sound of a motorcycle engine revving, Regina hit the gas hard enough to peal out, leaving skid marks in their wake.

~SQ~

Regina brought the car to a stop in front of Granny's Diner with a sharp screech of brakes, simpering at Emma's squawk of indignation over the rough treatment of her new car. "It's okay, Baby," the blonde cooed as she got out of the Charger, stroking the hood lovingly. She scowled at the brunette who had come around to the passenger side and was blatantly leaning against the front fender.

"Maaaa," Henry whined in embarrassment, rolling his eyes as he closed his door, sharing a long-suffering look with Neal over the trunk.

Ruby had been waiting outside of the diner with Monty for their arrival, and while she wasn't too fazed to see the four Crows Guards' bikes playing motorcade, she was surprised to find Emma get out of the dark gray vehicle and not the expected, yellow beetle. "What happened to the bug?" she asked, feeling it was a very important question that superseded the current situation.

Henry made a face and supplied, "It died on the way to New York." Using his thumb to indicate the man who had come to stand beside him, he added in the nonchalant way only an eleven-year-old could, "This is my dad. He's Mr. Gold's son."

Ruby's eyebrows climbed her forehead, her nonplussed expression turning to Emma. "Really?"

"Yup," the boy affirmed with a big smile, rocking back and forth on his heels, full of energy after the extended time in the car.

Regina shifted against the car irritably, cutting a disgruntled glare at Neal as he placed a hand on Henry's shoulder and grinned down at the boy.

Emma made a small noise of protest and muttered, "Regina, I swear if you scratch the paint on my car before it's a week old…."

Snorting with amusement, the brunette snarked, "You're more likely to scratch it with the rivets from those jeans you paint on every morning than I will with my Ralph Lauren trousers." She settled more firmly against the car, placing her hands on the hood on either side of her hips as she enjoyed the chance to tease her friend.

Wide eyes darting between the two women, Ruby queried, "So, Emma, how did you swing such a nice ride?"

The blonde draped her left arm across Regina's shoulders, pulling her in close and, with an upward tilt of her chin, stated, "I got me a sugar momma."

The wolf blinked at the wicked smirk gently tugging at the corner of the brunette's lips and her complete lack of protest. "Sweet!" she complimented in a care-free tone, knowing by the arch of Regina's eyebrow that she was going to be in trouble later.

Clearing her throat, and pointedly ignoring Monty's glower, Regina brought them to the matter at hand, starting with the biggest threat to the town. "Does anyone know where my mother is?"

Wrinkling her nose, Ruby shook her head. "No, sorry. Once she got the dagger, she just poofed out in a cloud of smoke."

"How long ago was this?" Regina demanded, easily taking charge of the conversation.

Monty eased forward, replying, "That was approximately the same time you entered Storybrooke. Most of the Crows Guard have spread out around town in key locations. We've had no word of any sightings, as of yet."

Hitching a thumb in the direction of the school where several blocks of the town were without power, the wolf questioned, "Any idea what that storm was about? It knocked out a couple of transformers."

Shifting her weight uneasily, the blonde tersely responded, "We had an incident."

"What about my father?" Neal finally interrupted, tired of waiting for others to decide he was important.

"Oh!" Ruby indicated the pawnshop behind him and said, "He's in the back of his shop. Mary Margaret and David are with him."

At Neal's confused look, Henry explained, "Snow White and Prince Charming." He paused as he suddenly realized something. "Hey, all of my grandparents are in one place!" Smiling enthusiastically, he grabbed Neal's hand and began to lead him to the pawnshop. "Come on, I'll introduce you."

Emma snatched her son's free arm, effectively halting his progress. "Not so fast, Kid. You need to stay here with Ruby and Alexander," she told him, turning him around to face the diner and the young Crows Guard coming out to meet them. "Neal can manage his little reunion on his own."

Henry groaned and tried to go limp in his mother's grip. He would have succeeded, too, if his brunette mother hadn't moved to flank him and caught his other arm. Raising her brows, she crouched in front of him and gave him a no-nonsense look. "Henry, this isn't a request. My mother and Rumpelstiltskin are dangerous at the best of times. Right now, with the power of the Dark One at stake, they're doubly treacherous." Holding his shoulders in a firm grip, she stressed, "We need you to be somewhere safe, and right now, that's not with us. Do you understand?"

Reluctantly, he nodded. Regina stood and released him, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched him dejectedly march into the diner in front of Alexander. Letting out a deep breath, she turned her attention back on Ruby. "I trust I don't need to remind you to keep him here," she stated, seeing the young woman sober instantly and shake her head. As the wolf turned to go inside, the brunette added softly, "Thank you," receiving a quick backward glance and grim smile in return.

Emma glanced at her car and its proximity to Gold's shop. "I think I better move the car," she mumbled, sure that it was going to get damaged if it stayed where it was.

Regina held up the keys and slipped around the vehicle. "I'll move it," she offered. Flashing a toothy grin at Neal, she sweetly suggested, "Why don't you take Baelfire to get reacquainted with his father?"

~SQ~

Emma led Neal across the street to the pawnshop, stopping briefly to greet Jason, who was standing in front of the door, arms crossed over his chest, gauntlets on full display. "Hey."

Jason smiled and relaxed a tiny bit as the sheriff approached. "Hi, Emma. Glad to have you back." He genuinely liked the blonde and was relieved to once again have the stabilizing influence she and the queen, as a pair, seemed to have on the town. "David and Snow are inside with Rumpelstiltskin, right now." He gave the man beside her an appraising stare. "Is this his son?"

"Yeah. Neal, this is Jason. He's one of the Crows Guard," she added unnecessarily.

Baffled, he asked, "My father included a motorcycle gang in his cursed town?"

The guard reached out and gave Neal's hand a firm shake, assessing him for a potential threat to the former mayor. "We were the queen's personal guard in the Enchanted Forest. Her Majesty brought some of us with her when she cast the curse," he explained with a grim smile.

"Ah," Neal grunted, suddenly warier of the man before him. "Well, it's nice to meet you. If you don't mind, though," he pointed to the shop's door, "I'd like to check on my father."

Raising an eyebrow, Jason sidestepped, allowing him to pass, nodding at Emma as she followed.

The sheriff stepped into the gloomy pawnshop and frowned at the sight of David and Mary Margaret in the back room. Sighing with resignation, she trudged forward, muttering, "Let's get this over with."

Upon seeing her daughter, Mary Margaret's face lit up, glad she was safely home. She darted forward, hands coming up to give her a hug but was stopped short by the scowl the blonde leveled at her, face falling as she realized this would not be a happy reunion for them. "Emma," she pleaded with sad eyes, stumbling back as her daughter brusquely moved past her into the back room.

David turned to her, asking quickly, "Did you see the storm when you came into town?"

"We had an incident," Emma ground out irritably, refusing to look anyone in the eye.

As soon as Neal stepped inside, his heart began hammering hard in his chest with equal parts dread and anticipation. Try as he might to deny it, a part of him still cared about his father and was worried about losing him permanently. Eyes falling to the prone figure lying on the cot, he found his throat choked with all of the unresolved feelings he'd kept shoved to the side. For the first time since that damned dagger had come into their lives, his father looked frail and small, seemed to be an ordinary man. It shook him.

Gold looked up at the commotion and stared at the scruffy young man standing reticently in the doorway. Though he'd grown and matured, Rumpelstiltskin had no trouble identifying him as his son. Quietly, he said, "Bae, you came back for me."

Neal grimaced at the soft tone, not wanting to fall into old habits of giving his father the benefit of the doubt. "No, I came to make sure you didn't hurt her," he retorted, indicating Emma. "I've seen what you do to people who break deals."

Rolling her eyes at the immediately hostile attitude, the blonde groaned, "Neal…."

He waved off her mild censure, a little put out by all of the extra people in the room. "Emma, I got this," he muttered.

Gold observed the interaction between the savior and his son with narrowed eyes, suspicion creeping to the forefront. "You know each other…. You two know each other. How?" he ordered, wondering what they were playing at.

Emma tried to deflect the question, scoffing, "You sent me to find him. I found him. What else is there to know?"

"No, no, no. Stop it!" the imp yelled, halfway sitting up in his bed, ignoring the pain from his wound. "You're lying. How do you two know each other?!" he demanded, spittle flying in his frenzy.

Neal grew very still, glaring at the man who was once his father, disappointed, but unsurprised, to see this side of him, again. He debated not telling him anything, letting him stew and wonder, but he knew his father too well for that. Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't stop searching for an answer, and eventually, someone would end up hurt. "Henry's my son," he announced somberly, ignoring Emma's horrified look.

Expression going slack, Gold whispered, "Henry is…," trailing off as he tried to process this new information.

Mary Margaret and David stared at their daughter, shocked by the revelation. "Emma, is this true?" David asked, stepping close and putting a hand on her shoulder.

Shrugging off the touch, she whirled on Neal, fuming, "What the hell? You just go and tell him without talking to me first?"

"He would have found out, anyway," Neal rejoined. "It's better this way. You saw how he reacted. It would have just gotten worse the longer we waited to say anything," he implored her.

Face contorted in rage, Emma stormed forward, shoving her ex hard into the wall, and barked, "Fuck you, Neal." She stomped out of the shop, anger coming off of her in waves as she slammed the door open and strode onto the sidewalk, just barely avoiding running into Jason. She was furious. The one person in town who she absolutely did not want around Henry had just been given cause to see him.

Mary Margaret and David hurried out of the shop after her, catching up with her on the sidewalk. "Emma!" Mary Margaret called out, glad when her daughter stopped. "Is it true? Is Gold's son Henry's father?" she questioned the blonde's back.

Regina had been talking to Monty outside of Granny's Diner, catching up on what little news there was of her mother, when she felt the hot spike of fury reach her through the bond. Her eyes automatically went to the pawnshop, worry filling her when Emma barreled outside. Seeing the Charmings trailing behind, she cut short her conversation and moved to join the blonde.

Turning abruptly, the sheriff glowered at her parents, pissed off that they couldn't just let it be for five minutes so she could get her thoughts together. "Yes," she hissed. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

A huge smile burst across Mary Margaret's face, and she grasped Emma's upper arms with a happy squeeze. "But that's wonderful, Emma! Don't you see, Henry can have a family," she enthused.

Jerking out of her mother's grip, she countered loudly, "Henry has a family!" Her green eyes held a deep pain as she ranted, "That bastard is the reason I had to give up Henry in the first place, and you think it's fucking wonderful? Goddamnit, Mary Margaret, family isn't about blood, it's about actually being there for each other, even when everything is going to shit around you."

She felt Regina's presence strengthen behind her, felt a warm hand pressing firmly into her lower spine and the light brush of a wool coat against the back of her left arm. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, since you left me to die from exposure in the middle of the fucking forest. And then you pull that shit last week, trying to magically lobotomize Regina, to hell with what it would do to either of us?" Her heart dropped when Regina's free hand clutched her left biceps at the painful reminder, and it just made her madder. "Lady, if that's your idea of family, I want no part of it," she spat, stepping into her parents' space.

Focusing watery eyes on their daughter, Mary Margaret and David both started to protest, "Emma, no. That's not—"

"Save it!" the sheriff cut them off sharply. Taking satisfaction in the distressed expressions on the faces before her, she smiled cruelly. "You may have given birth to me, but I don't have any parents." The resulting gasp was more rewarding than she'd imagined it would be. She paused at the odd sensation of her anger being teased from her through the bond and allowed herself to calm slightly, casting a quick glance at the woman beside her. "I have Regina and our son. That's all the family I need," the blonde claimed. Turning from the others, she placed her right hand over Regina's left, still holding tightly to her arm, leading each other away for a few steps before disappearing in a cloud of purple.

~SQ~

"Wow, it's crowded in here," exclaimed Henry as he entered the diner. He smiled at the few people who looked at him, but most everyone ignored him. Guided by Alexander, he weaved his way through the crowd of people to a booth in the back, but when he saw Bruce Farmer and another Crows Guard sitting there, he stopped.

"Go on, Henry," the young drummer instructed, gently nudging the boy forward. He flashed an encouraging smile but understood the boy's hesitation. Some of the Crows Guard had duplicitous feelings regarding the queen's adopted son.

Noting his lieutenant's scowl, the Crows Guard that Henry didn't know looked over his shoulder at him and got out of the booth. He left through the side door without a word, his instructions clear.

With a nervous swallow, Henry slipped into the booth, sliding over all the way to make room for Alexander to sit next to him. He smiled weakly at Farmer's scowl.

Looking at the young guard, Bruce asked, "You understand your orders?"

"Yes, Sir," Alexander nodded with the utmost seriousness.

"Good," Bruce simply stated. He resumed scanning the room, watching. However, when he saw the dwarves push their way inside, he sighed. Things weren't going to stay peaceful for long. And when one of the part-time waitresses decided to finally stop at the booth, he frowned at the girl. He'd been sitting there for twenty minutes.

"Granny says you have to order something or leave," the waitress droned and sighed. She softly tapped her pencil against her order pad. Today was supposed to have been her day off.

Alexander blinked a few times when his superior deferred to him. Clearing his throat, he ordered a basket of fries and two strawberry milkshakes. Hopefully, the treat would keep his young charge occupied and content while they waited things out. Quietly, he started asking the boy about his trip to New York.

~SQ~

"So, what happens if Gold dies?" Emma asked, keeping pace with the brunette as they headed towards the docks of Storybrooke Marina. She shivered against the brisk wind blowing in off the water. "Before Cora can take his powers," she amended, pulling her hair out of her mouth. The blonde was still madder than hell, but Regina was letting her have her space. It also helped that the brunette's magic had been constantly grazing against hers with a steady tenderness since they had left her parents.

"What do you mean?" Regina countered distractedly. Her eyes swept the landscape, magically searching for the Jolly Roger. She was trying to be as thorough as possible, but time was of the essence. The thin magical atmosphere of Storybrooke seemed somehow more, like she'd been living in a semi-desaturated world, and now, everything was in technicolor splendor. She found it disconcerting, seeing the thin threads of power glowing more prominently, brighter.

Sighing, the sheriff bluntly explained, "Would his powers stay in the dagger and be unusable?" She looked down at the cement walkway with a furrowed brow. Noticing her companion had stopped, she paused and turned towards her. "We'd be left with a fancy paperweight?"

"It wouldn't be that simple," the former mayor scoffed, dismissing the suggestion with a wave of her hand. Slowly lowering her hand, she frowned, considering. "It couldn't be," she added speculatively. Thoughtfully regarding the blonde, she opened her mouth then closed it again, only to finally snarl, "If anyone gets to kill the imp, it'll be me." She recommenced her search with renewed vigor.

"I was just asking," Emma sulkily clarified as she resumed following the brunette. Her sharp eyes looked around for any likely hiding places. A few times, she attempted to reach out with her magic, but it kept moving to the other woman. She couldn't decide if it was trying to pet or corral the former mayor's magic. The earlier light show made her hesitant, echoes of the brunette's scream still ringing in her ears.

When they reached the end of a long, wide, wooden pier, Regina crossed her arms and glared out across the gray waters of the harbor. "Damnit," she cursed softly.

"What?" the sheriff inquired, looking around. She held her hair out of her face. "How do you hide a big boat, anyway?" There was a smaller marina a couple of miles down the coast, but it was in poor repair and populated by alcoholics. Needless to say, that's where Leroy lived. Once she thought about it, she reflected that they might have better luck moving the search to the second marina, instead.

"With magic," the former mayor replied with clear agitation. She pointed to a spot in the middle of the harbor. It was quite clever, actually.

Squinting, the blonde could just make out the subtle magic obscuring the moored vessel. "Huh." She absently took the brunette's hand as she mentally prepared herself to teleport.

"What are you doing?" Regina questioned, glancing between confused green eyes and their linked hands. Rolling her eyes, she wove her free hand about in a graceful gesticulation. A cloud of purple appeared off the end of the dock. Extracting her hand from the blonde's grip, she gestured to the end of the pier.

Moving forward and peering over the edge, Emma frowned at the rowboat and groused, "Why can't we just apparate to the damn boat?" With a surprising amount of coordination, she sat on the edge of the pier and carefully lowered herself into the waiting, rocking, too tiny rowboat. "Really? Not even a motor?" she grumped as she cautiously turned to help the former mayor down.

"I can't teleport us somewhere I've never been, Emma," Regina explained, accepting the other woman's assistance. She settled on the seat opposite the rowing station and smirked as the blonde pushed them away from the bearing pile. "We might end up impaled on the rigging or merged into the deck."

The sheriff made a disgruntled face and started to row. "Again, no motor," she repeated, falling into the easy rhythm of rowing. She grinned as the former mayor rolled her eyes.

"And lose the element of surprise, Sheriff? Tsk, tsk, and here, I thought you were a clever tactician," Regina mildly teased in a low, throaty tone. She cocked an eyebrow, but didn't look at Emma. It was bad enough that she could see her big, goofy grin in her periphery.

"I got skills," the blonde quipped. A smile stayed on her face as she heard the soft hum in reply.

It took about fifteen minutes to cover the intervening distance. As they got closer to the boat, the sheriff adjusted her rowing technique, keeping it fluid and smooth to minimize the sound of the oars connecting with the water. Taking advantage of the situation, her gaze avidly searched the other woman, who was focused on the boat ahead. Questions titillated the tip of her tongue, but she thought better of asking any, right then.

Estimating that they were close enough, the brunette waved her hand in the general direction of the ship. Gradually, the cloaking spell encasing the vessel faded away, revealing the famed Jolly Roger. She was staggered to see so much residual magic radiating from the ship's hull. As the blonde maneuvered the rowboat alongside the port-side rope hanging ladder, Regina frowned, realizing her mother wasn't onboard. She quickly reached for the rope and started to climb, easily vaulting the gunwale, her eyes scanning the main deck. It reminded her of David Salter's brig, Star Strider.

Suddenly, there was a sharp whack behind her. Emma screamed, followed by the sound of something hitting the side of the ship with a solid thud. Regina spun around, instinctively reaching for the remaining rope of the ladder. However, she was caught off guard by a hard backhand across the face. She stumbled back several paces but managed to keep her footing, ignoring the slight ringing in her ears. Glaring at her assailant, she seethed, "Hook."

"It's respectful to ask for permission before boarding, Love," the pirate taunted, flashing a brilliant smile. With more flourish than necessary, he raised his sword and lunged at the brunette. Before his blade tip could pierce her abdomen, he felt ropes twining about his wrists and torso as he was snared by the rigging of his ship and raised into the air. He raged against his bindings but knew it was pointless, calming quickly. This was to be a game of wits.

"Emma!" the former mayor called as soon as the ropes were moving, hurrying back to the port side of the ship. She looked over the railing and saw the sheriff struggling to climb the now skewed rope ladder, boots squeaking and slipping from condensation on the outer hull. With a sigh of relief, she reached down and helped the blonde make it onboard. Then, with her friend safe, she turned back to her prey. "Where's Cora?"

"That, I do not know," Hook replied lightly with an air of disinterest. "She absconded with her new treasure, and I haven't seen her." His gaze drifted to Emma. She was a still a sight to behold, memory hadn't led him astray.

"You idiot, you were supposed to kill her, not join forces with her," Regina sharply rebuked, crossing her arms. She ignored the blonde's curious expression. "And while you licked her boots, did it not occur to you that aiding her to become the Dark One was a bad idea?" Really, how many idiots would she be forced to deal with?

Unconcerned with the entire affair, the pirate's gaze lingered on the blonde as he huskily said, "I tried, Love, but she didn't have a heart to begin with." He trailed off and became enthralled with his own fantasies. Why were the good ones so appealing?

"What?" the former mayor demanded abruptly, bristling at his lack of fear. Had she lost her touch? Had she really gone that soft? When no answer was immediate, she sneered and twisted her wrist to tighten the ropes.

"Oy!" Hook cried before he started laughing. "Is this how you like it, Swan?" A roguish smile crossed his face, and a devilish glint twinkled in his eyes. "Hard and rough?" Turning his smirk on Regina, he added, "Miss having something to ride? I'd happily oblige a princess." Any further taunts were cut short as he was immediately raised ten feet higher and unceremoniously dropped onto the deck.

"Regina," Emma hissed, placing a hand on the brunette's forearm, a furious blush working its way across her cheeks. Worry spread as she took in the hate brewing in the former mayor's glare, the flexing jawline and pulsing vein in her forehead. In that moment, she missed New York.

"He'll live," Regina promised, unwavering in her loathing. If these two had some dalliance while in the Enchanted Forest, it wasn't her business, but the bastard would treat Emma respectfully.

Groaning, the pirate rolled on the deck, testing his bonds. He grunted in frustration, and snarled, "Aye, I plunged my hook into her chest, to no avail." Eventually, he stopped his struggling and looked up at the two woman looming over him. He almost liked it. "I cooperated to live." For some reason, seeing the blonde touch the queen irritated him. When Emma met his heated look with her own, he leered.

Feeling the warm coil of magic slip around her like an affectionate cat, Regina calmed slightly, the desire to throttle the man successfully subdued, for the moment. She turned to the sheriff and contemplatively stated, "She doesn't have her heart." Unspoken questions were left hanging in the air. How long had Cora been without a heart? Where had she hidden it?

"That's a good thing, right?" Emma prompted, not dropping her hand but readjusting her touch. She briefly studied the man tied up before asking him, "Where's the antidote for the poison you used on Gold?"

"There isn't an antidote," Hook scoffed bitterly, rolling his eyes. "That's why I used it on the Dark One."

"You wouldn't carry a poison like that without an antidote," the sheriff countered with a prominent frown. They were wasting time, she realized, scowling as she noticed his persistent appraisal of her crotch. "Toss him around a little more," she suggested to the former mayor. They could search the entire ship for days and not find the antidote.

"With pleasure," Regina purred, both surprised and delighted by the blonde's duality of character. She raised her hands, sensing the excited titter of Emma's magic. This was going to be fun. Perhaps she could turn it into a mini training exercise for her pupil.

"What?!" the pirate exclaimed. Shock framed his face as he finally caught the blonde's gaze with his own. What was this? He'd thought she was good. As he was once again lifted into the air, his eyes shifted back to the queen. However, any scathing remark was soon lost as he found himself thrown overboard.

Valiantly, he struggled to swim to the surface, but he only seemed to sink lower in the chilling depths, despite his best efforts. When the air was almost burned from his lungs, his body surged upward, yanked gasping and sputtering to the surface by the ropes. Then, without delay, he was hoisted over the gunwale, his gut slammed into the mainyard. He fell back, landing hard on the deck in a sodden heap, the rigging finally releasing him.

After a bout of coughing, Hook rolled onto his stomach. "You contemptuous, bitch!" he snarled, standing. His anger fully manifested as his face contorted in rage. "You broke our arrangement. You were supposed to aide me in killing the Dark One." He stormed forward, shaking his hook. "You left me to your mother's clutches."

"Please," the brunette jeered, unconcerned with his threats. Her eyes darkened and her chin tilted downward as she slowly stalked towards the angry man. "If you couldn't kill an old woman, do you really think you could kill Rumpelstiltskin?" Angling to the side, she moved to flank him, taking predatory delight in the opportunity to play with her catch.

Instincts kicked in, and the pirate become very still, breathing heavily through his nose. His attack would have to be swift and decisive if he wanted to overcome the queen's magic. "This," he taunted the blonde, "is what you align yourself with?" His eyes cut away from his sweet Emma and resumed following the circling queen. "She'll devour you."

Smirking, the sheriff crossed her arms and leaned against the bulwark. This was payback. She was, although she'd never admit it, a little thrilled seeing Regina terrorize the pirate, the wicked gleam in her eyes doing something to her insides. "Where's the antidote?" she repeated, watching the scene unfold before her. How many times while in the Enchanted Forest had she wanted to punch him in the face?

"Right here," Hook catcalled with a wink and an air kiss, grabbing his crotch with his right hand and giving it a hard shake. He'd intended to tell her to suck it but instead found himself forcibly thrown against the mainmast. Crying out in pain, he breathlessly taunted Regina, "You already missed your chance to partake. But I'm open to a little ménage à trois, if that's more your style." He laughed before he was violently flung across the main deck.

Regina's chest heaved. She breathed harshly through her nose as rage and disgust festered just beneath the surface. How could Emma entertain being touched by the brute? The last vestiges of lunch wanted to revolt from her stomach at the sheer thought. So, she closed her eyes to keep the rising bile at bay, and that's when she felt the soothing concern filtering through the bond. With a flick of the wrist, she recalled Hook from across the ship, another elegant roll of her hand lashing him to the mainmast.

"Nay!" the pirate shouted, aggressively struggling against the ropes. Suddenly, he became very nervous. His brow furrowed as the blonde talked softly to the brunette. Again, she was touching the wretched witch. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but his Emma's soft smile suitably quelled the queen. Perhaps his lady love was being tricked and needed to be rescued. The notion caused his heart to hammer in his chest. Yes, he could play the hero and win the damsel. He imagined his reward to be quite fitting from a dishonored princess. Taking a deep breath, he freely offered, "Only thing that staves off the effects of Dreamshade is the remedial spring waters of Neverland." He looked between the two women. "That's the only cure."

"Where?" Emma demanded, turning. Her eyes glinted with fire. She was really tired of his shit.

"My cabin," Hook answered hurriedly. "There's a small chest wedged under the desk. Inside, you'll find a black canteen." He breathed heavily as he watched the queen walk away. He didn't want to reveal too much of his hand too quickly, but he had to know. His gaze once again fixated on the blonde. "Did you find Baelfire?" he inquired softly, before she fully turned away. He was astounded at how much it hurt to say the boy's name.

"Yeah," the sheriff hesitantly replied. "He's with Gold, now." She didn't miss the raw hate flitter across the man's face. Pushing her curiosity aside, she followed Regina to the stern. "You seem to be pretty familiar with this ship," she commented. Her thoughts drifted back to Hook's supposed mission to kill Cora. Nervously, she chewed on her lower lip and inquired, "What was that about a deal to kill Cora?"

"It's a standard brig, but it appears to have been constructed with enchanted wood," the former mayor explained, stopping briefly before the captain's cabin. Studying Emma for a long moment, she continued, "As to our arrangement regarding my mother, that is, perhaps, a story for another time." She slowly waved her right hand before the door, eyes tracing the doorframe in search of traps when nothing happened as the door simply swung open. Cautiously, she crossed the threshold and spotted the small trunk. Regina placed the chest on top of the desk, unlocking it with practiced ease. She summoned a dark glass vial and proceeded to pour some of the healing waters into it.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked impatiently. She looked over her shoulder and out the door. Leaving Hook unattended, tied up or not, made her nervous. She'd be much happier with him behind bars. There were still those criminal mischief charges she could use to arrest him.

"Insurance," Regina responded. Quickly, she secured the caps, passing the canteen to the sheriff and stowing the tincture in her coat. Then, she started checking the myriad of vials within the medicinal chest.

"Is this the best time to be shopping?" the blonde hissed, stepping closer and keeping eyes on the door. "And isn't that stealing?"

"He's a pirate," the brunette huffed, pausing long enough to give Emma a scrupulous glare. "He probably stole it," she elaborated with slight amusement. "Besides," she added as she resumed her search, "we don't want a repeat of events." Examining a vial carefully wrapped in a wool-lined leather pouch, she found her prize of Dreamshade. Sadly, there wasn't anything else remarkable in Hook's little treasure chest.

The pair made their way back to the main deck to find the pirate gone.

"Damnit," the sheriff cursed, seeing the tangle of empty ropes. "How the hell did he get free?" Spotting a frayed bit of rope under a mounted cleat, she muttered, "He's got game. I'll give him that." She looked back at her friend, slightly impressed with the pirate's ingenuity.

"He's of little consequence at the moment," Regina countered, walking to the port-side railing. For a brief moment, she watched Hook struggle with rowing and toyed with the idea of springing a leak in the boat, but Emma's presence curbed the mischievous impulse. Turning, she held out her hand, and she smiled when Emma reflexively took it. "We have a heart to find."

~SQ~

Bruce Farmer only half listened to the two boys, who were almost finished with their snack, talking across from him. His stern gaze continually observed the milling mass of people currently hanging out at Granny's Diner. Like these people didn't have better things to do with their lives than watch natural casters battle for supremacy. He frowned.

"Why are we just hiding in here? We should be doing something," someone in the crowd complained loudly.

"Yeah!"

Farmer harrumphed.

"Hey, settle down!" shouted Ruby from behind the counter. She glared at everyone in the diner. For a long moment, there was precious silence. I don't have time for this, she thought, starting to fill another drink order at the soda fountain. The chatter resumed at a more normal level. Hearing the bell at the pickup window ding, she checked to make sure one of the waitresses moved to retrieve it. She didn't miss the distinct jingle of the bell at the main entrance, and she saw Puma enter. "Oh, thank, God," she muttered. If the tall, muscular black man in a deputy's uniform didn't calm these people down, nothing would do it.

"Kind of crowded today," Puma teased, sliding up to the counter, squeezing between two people sitting on stools. His eyes scanned the room. When they landed on Bruce Farmer, he gave a small nod. "Any word?" he probed upon noticing Henry Mills in the booth with the Crows Guard.

"Emma and Regina are back in town. They're looking for Cora, now," she explained, putting drinks on the counter for a waitress to serve.

"Hopefully things won't drag out for too long," the deputy commented flatly, scrutinizing the diner. His sharp eyes assessed each and every occupant. "I don't think this town can take any more excitement." He focused in on a booth across from him and narrowed his eyes. The dwarves were plotting something.

"I'm telling you we should take matters into our own hands," hissed Happy, glancing conspiratorially between his brothers. "We should step up." He forcibly jabbed his pointer finger on the tabletop. "We can't trust the animal folk to keep us safe." His heated gaze slipped over to Deputy Puma at the counter.

"I don't know," interjected Doc. This all seemed way out of their depth. He shifted uncomfortably. "I think Deputies Puma and Lucas have been doing a fine job in the Sheriff's stead." He couldn't blame anyone for having a side job. Heck, he'd wished he'd had a side job other than filling out online surveys for pennies on the dollar.

Dopey grinned, "Yeah, we can grab some fairy dust and lock all the magic users in the mines." He excitably bounced up and down on the booth's bench.

Flustered at the suggestion, Doc adamantly shook his head. "Nope, can't do that. We already inventoried the latest haul." He nodded with finality.

"We didn't transport it, yet," Grumpy corrected. His hard eyes zeroed in on the two Crows Guard and Henry in the back booth. "First, we need to get Snow's grandson away from the Gestapo." He slipped out of the booth and stomped his way over to the Crows Guard.

"Hey, Leroy," Henry easily greeted after finishing a sip of his milkshake. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked, reaching for another fry.

"Dwarf," Bruce stated evenly.

"How about you hand over the boy," Grumpy ordered, placing a hand on the table's edge. He leaned on it heavily, getting in the guard's face.

"Those aren't my orders," the lieutenant countered, unfazed, meeting the dwarf's glare. Certainly, the volatile little man wasn't stupid enough to start something. That's when he noticed the other dwarves crowding behind their comrade.

"This ain't no kingdom, and the Evil Queen doesn't rule here," the grumpy dwarf taunted with a smirk. His chest filled with pride as his brothers cheered him.

"The Queen is the boy's legal guardian," Bruce informed them. Slowly, he exited the booth and loomed over the gathered dwarves. "We have been entrusted with Henry's safety."

"Put the rabid bitch down!" shouted someone from across the diner.

"You fools; the Queen's the only one who can stand up to the Dark One!" called another.

"The Evil Queen's mother is going to kill us all," cried another.

"Why hasn't Snow White saved us?" pleaded another customer.

"We're doomed!" someone bellowed before running out the front door.

"Hey!" Ruby shouted, moving towards the door. "He didn't pay," she snarled as she pushed people out of the way. However, her pursuit was cut short when Ava Zimmerman entered the diner. "Ava?"

"Deputy Lucas," the young girl whimpered. Her red-rimmed eyes immediately cut to Puma. "Deputy Puma!" she called, trying to catch her breath. "I need help," she rasped. "It's Nicholas and Dad. They're fighting." Fresh tears pooled in her eyes.

Immediately, Puma was next to Ruby, asking, "Where?"

"The shop," Ava answered, swallowing a sob. The next thing she knew, both deputies had bolted out the door. She only hesitated for a second before following them.

Bruce Farmer was distracted for only a second because he, like many of the Crows Guard, had been concerned over Nicholas Zimmerman. However, his moment of weakness had been a grave mistake as the dishonorable dwarves took advantage of Ava's plea for assistance. A hard fist connected squarely with his jaw, causing him to stumble backwards a few paces. Anger fueled him as he reflexively responded with his own upper cut. However, he missed his intended target and popped Doc right in the nose.

Doc yelped in surprise and pain. He tried to step back but bumped into a curious bystander, who fell into someone else.

Chaos erupted in the diner.

Grumpy was ready for a fight. He pulled back his fist to knock Farmer, again, but was suddenly pushed over with a sharp kick on his left thigh. Losing his footing, he stumbled to his right, falling into a table. His ungraceful landing sent food and cutlery everywhere. "What the hell?" he muttered, dragging himself up.

"You little shit," cursed Happy, having witnessed Alexander attack his brother. Immediately, the hot-headed dwarf launched himself on the young Crows Guard.

With wide eyes, Henry scurried under the table, barely escaping the tussle on the bench. He watched legs and feet move across the floor. Panic snared him as the shouts and crashes increased. Then, suddenly, he saw a clear shot towards the diner's side door. He didn't pause. He didn't look back as he bolted out from under the table. His small size allowed him to bob and weave around the fighting and away from the yelling.

No one noticed when he ran out the door.

~SQ~

Gold startled awake from this fitful nap. After a shiver, he nervously glanced around the back room of his pawn shop, pondering where the draft that woke him had come from. Then, he registered the raised voices coming from the front. The Charmings, his son, and one of the annoying Crows Guard were arguing. Aside from some irritation, he remained mostly apathetic, as their attempts to protect him would ultimately prove worthless.

"Are you cold?" Mary Margaret asked kindly from the doorway. She gave him a warm, sad smile as she moved to a large cupboard on the left side of the room, remembering she had seen another blanket folded inside it. "Let me get you a warmer blanket." Lifting the small, wrought iron latch, she opened the double cabinet doors wide, reached in, and retrieved the plaid blanket. That's when she noticed it, the same enchanted candle from her childhood. Memories overwhelmed her, and she thought she would weep from her freshly tilled sorrows. Cora had killed her mother, and she had been too weak to save her.

With a furrowed brow, the pawnbroker watched the brunette's back with new interest. It was clear she recognized the candle, but how? He immediately formulated a plan of coercion. "You've seen that particular enchanted candle before, I take it," he prodded delicately.

"Where did you get it?" the school teacher demanded in a disbelieving tone. She'd given it back to the Blue Fairy.

"Trinkets sometimes find their way to me," he supplied, shifting and trying to get a better view of the woman. "Where have you seen it?" That's what he really wanted to know.

"I promised I'd never tell," she answered without thought or hesitation.

Sensing a prime opportunity, Gold idly mentioned, "It could be a useful tool. It could solve two problems with one price." He moved to capitalize on a desperation other than his own.

"How's that?" Mary Margaret pondered. She shifted the blanket to her left arm, and with her right, she reached out and caressed the candle. It still felt unearthly, both hot and cold, both alive and dead.

"Cora doesn't have her heart," the pawnbroker elaborated in a low tone so as not to be overheard. "She'd removed it well before Regina was born," he added, hoping to appeal to Snow White's bleeding heart.

"No heart?" the school teacher mused quietly. She laid her hand beside the candle. Her thumb tersely tapping the bottom of the cupboard. "She couldn't love her," she rationalized with a sad frown.

"What's worse than losing a mother's love?" he probed with false remorse. "Not having one," he added. He released a long sigh. "I never knew my mother," he admitted, weaving his lies with truth. "What I wouldn't give to know her face or hear her voice." He smirked as he watched slight shoulders slump and shake.

"Cora killed my mother," she gushed through fresh tears. Balling her right hand into a tight fist, she dropped her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Why did this hurt so much?

Yes, Gold had heard such rumors. He waited to see if his seeds would sprout.

Clutching the blanket to her chest, Mary Margaret sighed softly as she closed the cupboard, its latch lowering with a sharp click. Leaving her free hand firmly on the cabinet doors, she looked at the dying man on the cot behind her. "Cora doesn't have her heart," she repeated quietly. She was only vaguely aware of the three men arguing in the front of the shop.

"She hasn't had a heart for a long time," Gold reiterated, watching the virtuous woman. It was a long shot, but a gamble he was willing to take. After all, the poison slowly killing him was from Neverland, and he needed every advantage he could get.

"Why do you even have that evil thing?" the school teacher questioned, placing the blanket on a chair, dropping her hands, and turning towards the dying man. "It shouldn't exist," she hissed in anger. The anger wasn't over the magical item but, rather, over her inability to save her own mother. Now, the Dark One, not the Blue Fairy, was asking her to use the candle. "If I didn't save my own mother, why the hell would I save you?" she spat, her own self-loathing coloring her words.

The pawnbroker weakly shrugged, the action pulling at his wound. "Saving it for a rainy day," he quipped lightly, despite the severity of the situation. He eyed her for a short moment and added, "And, our interests are aligned, now." His expression turned hard and his voice cold as he explained, "I'm the lesser of two evils, Dearie. It's either me or Cora. You choose."

She shook her head as her hands curled into tight fists. Cora's admission of killing her mother played through her head, again and again. Fresh tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. When would the pain stop? Throwing her head back, she stared blankly at the ceiling and rasped, "I'll do it." One deep breath filled her lungs, then another. "But if I curse her heart, how do I get it back inside her?"

"That's the tricky part," he admitted, hiding his surprise. Even though the do-gooder woman agreed, it didn't mean the venture would pay out, or she wouldn't change her mind. He gave her a gentle smile and, with practiced ease, said, "At least young Henry will know you tried to save his grandfather."

"Family is important," Mary Margaret recited with conviction. She lowered her gaze and fixed the dying man with a pointed stare. "It's the only thing that matters." After everything she'd endured over the years, if she could go back, she'd save her mother without a doubt or a regret. "I won't make the same mistake, again," she promised.

Relief settled across Gold's tired body. He merely nodded as he rested his eyes. Each time, he feared it would be his last, but now, he had someone of untarnished good character in his corner fighting for him. The chips were once again stacked in his favor.

The school teacher raised her chin from the sudden burst of confidence blooming within her chest. She had options. She wouldn't fall victim to the whims of sorcery again. Her movements were fluid and precise as she snatched the blanket from chair, unfolded it, and draped it over the now sleeping man. Upon hearing his snores, she smiled fondly. Maybe darkness wasn't that evil, she considered. The Dark One had never led her astray, thus far.

The voices in the front of the pawn shop rose sharply, startling her. Sighing, she quickly moved to shush them, all the while formulating a plan to leave the shop without drawing suspicion. She believed the Crows Guard would pay her no mind.

Upon her return to check on Gold, after telling David she was going to fetch more blankets from home, she noticed the cupboard door she'd been in earlier had apparently unlatched and swung open. She slowly walked from the front of the shop to the back, leaving the men to their strategies. It wasn't terribly uncommon for simple iron latches to pop with the weather changes. Growing up, she'd wakened many a night with her wardrobe wide open, its pitch black interior foreboding whilst she was alone in her chambers. Yet, as she got closer to the threshold, the sudden temperature drop caused her alarm. Once inside the back room, she saw the side door of the pawn shop was wide open. Rushing over, she moved to close it, believing it convenient circumstance. However, when she spied Henry running down the alley with the candle in his hand, she bolted after him, slamming the door behind her. "HENRY!" she shouted, giving chase.

Anne McCormac cursed when she saw the queen's son running down the alley away from her. "For fuck's sake," she cursed softly, lifting her radio from her belt to her mouth. "Red nine," she growled for dispatch. "The brat's escaped. Someone get out here and grab him!" Releasing the toggle, she watched the school teacher give chase to the boy. Cocking an eyebrow, she was rather impressed with Mary Margaret's speed. "You're not going to catch him," she muttered, considering tripping the boy with an arrow, but if she maimed him, it wouldn't go over very well.

"Red seven, all available personnel diverted to situation at Granny's. Remain on mission. Stay in position!"

"Get someone on him now!" Anne snapped into her radio. "He's heading towards the Toll Bridge." She was going to beat Farmer senseless for this screw up. "Fuck," she hissed, snapping her radio back on her belt. She didn't have time to alert Monty to the development, since the bastard had refused to take his radio, not wanting Charming to hijack the plan. As it was, they'd only have one shot at slowing down Cora, so chasing little boys wasn't on her agenda for the day.

A loud clang and shout from Tillman's Garage caught her attention. Looking between the runaway prince being chased by Snow White and hearing Michael Tillman threaten his son, she made a choice and jogged towards the mechanic's shop. She prayed to Razikale that the princess wouldn't screw things up.

~SQ~

Once outside the diner, Sheriff Deputies Ruby Lucas and Karl Puma ran full tilt towards the mechanic's shop, leaving a tear-streaked Ava lagging behind them. They ran past the still quiet pawnshop and shared an apprehensive look. Would they have enough time before the shit hit the fan? Regardless, they were going to try; they were going to save that boy.

Motioning for Puma to go around back, Ruby listened to the heated conversation as she slowly, silently crept between the two cars in the garage bays toward father and son in the back. She needed to play this smart because running in with fangs bared would only make life in town more difficult.

"You little shit!" Michael Tillman roared from the back of the shop. He grabbed his son by the shirt collar, tearing it, and shoved him into a workbench. "Now you're stealing from me?"

Nicholas hissed as the edge of the table slammed into the middle of his back. He glanced around, looking for a weapon or a way out. Realizing he was cornered, he returned sad, petrified eyes to his father.

"You just wouldn't stay away," the man seethed, further triggered by the boy's expression. Picking up a wrench, he pointed it his son. "And here you are, again, sucking the life out of me." He closed the distance between them and bashed the wrench on the bench, his face mere inches away from the boy's.

"I didn't do anything to you!" Nicholas shouted with tears running down his face, trying to understand why his father hated him so much. "What did I ever do to you?"

"You were born!" Michael bellowed. He backhanded the boy, sending him into a tall, work chest toolbox. The years of backbreaking work came rushing in. He had chopped tree after tree, year after year. He had been ripped off by the log mills who only wanted rare woods. His meager funds had gone toward his children. The boiling rage overflowed, and he raised the wrench. "You took my wife, and I was left with you."

The boy cowered, crouching and covering his head with his arms, but the blow never came down. Instead, there was a low growl and a loud crash. He peeled his eyes open and saw Deputy Lucas fighting with his father. Panic instantly settled in, and he bolted toward the open garage doors. However, before he could make it outside, he was wrapped in a fierce hug by his sister. He struggled for a second but soon stopped. Tears flowed anew.

"It's okay, now, Nicholas," Ava whispered, holding onto her brother with everything. "I'm so sorry," she added as fresh tears escaped. With dark satisfaction, she observed as Puma hoisted a semi-conscious Michael Tillman onto his feet. The soft rumbling tones of Deputy Puma's voice reciting the Miranda Warning was like a soothing lullaby.

Puma shoved the mechanic out of his shop. His sharp eyes cut to a Crows Guard in the alley. "You could've done something," he criticized, meeting her flashing eyes. Hadn't the queen's guard been a stabilizing force these last few months? "The boy didn't have to suffer."

"We're not deputies," Anne McCormac retorted flatly with a hard frown. "Vigilante justice doesn't jive with this land's laws." She crossed her arms. Sure, she had wanted the slit the bastard's throat the first time she noticed a bruise on the boy. She and Monty had had this very conversation several times, but she heeded her commander's wisdom. "You know as well as I do that if we had interfered beyond civic duty, there would've been a war."

Ruby popped out of the shop and placed a comforting hand on Ava's shoulder. Looking between Puma and McCormac, she sighed, "Karl, we talked about this." Everyone wanted to knock the shit out of Tillman.

Puma grunted, half dragging and half escorting the mechanic to the patrol car parked in front of Granny's Diner. "I'll take him in and start processing," he called over his shoulder. Sometimes politics just pissed him off.

"He won't hurt you, again," Ruby promised with a soft smile.

"Why was he so mean?" Nicholas pled, still hugging his sister. He wiped angrily at his eyes with his left hand, refusing to let go. "Everything was great until the curse broke, until we remembered." That's when things had started going bad. It was small things at first, but as Ava tried to placate him more and more, his father's anger grew.

Unsure what to say, the part-time deputy took a deep breath. She rolled her lips and shook her head. "We'd better get you to the hospital," she ordered. Looking up, she realized the squad car was already gone.

"Bobby will be by with his car in a few minutes," Anne called as she turned and headed back to her post. She clipped her handheld radio back on her belt. At least one mess got taken care of today, she thought. Hearing the wolf call out a thanks, she absently waved as she disappeared down the alley.

~SQ~

A swirl of indigo smoke announced Cora's arrival in the center of the street in front of the pawnshop. Seeing the two Crows Guard outside the door, their damnable gauntlets catching the light from the setting sun, she sighed in irritation. She was done with the posturing and feints, ready to be finished with the whole drawn out affair. Knowing she'd have to attack the guards indirectly, she effortlessly shifted the sidewalk beneath them, knocking them both off of their feet. Then, she wrapped one up with a nearby lamppost, the metal creaking as it bent and twisted tightly around the guard.

Jason Sirtis had regained his footing and was rushing toward the sorceress, determined to catch her before she could do any more damage, giving the others time. Cora, in anticipation, levitated a metal trashcan from down the street, flinging it at the back of the young man's head, knocking him out cold. He crumpled, face first, across the pavement. As she sauntered toward the front of the pawnshop, several arrows whirled past her head from different directions. The fletching of one tickled her nose.

Scowling, the sorceress stopped and raised her left hand, halting another volley of arrows from raining down around her. She quickly twirled her wrist and sent the arrows back to their places of origin. A bubble of delight tickled her sensibilities as the archers yelled and scrambled to dodge their own arrows. Some were successful, others left exposed, and still others wounded. One by one, she deflected attack after attack, picking them off with ease. She laughed in merriment. It had been a long time since she'd enjoyed herself so thoroughly. That was, until a black shafted arrow with bright red fletching pierced through her cloak.

Cora's sharp eyes tracked the new danger back to its source. She sneered at the diminutive female archer, Anne McCormac, standing fifty feet away with her bow drawn. When another black arrow was released, she smirked while waving her hand, but she had to quickly sidestep in order to miss being shot in the chest. She had no time to recover as another arrow immediately came at her, followed by another, and then another. Snarling at the realization she couldn't control these peculiar black arrows, she cast a protective ward around her, taking a deep breath of satisfaction as the other guards' arrows bounced off the energy barrier. It almost sounded like rain.

However, Anne didn't let up. She slowly stepped forward, releasing arrow after arrow. Her deadly aim was true, the enchanted arrowheads lodging into the magical shield surrounding the sorceress. She could see the rising frustration and anger. Just a little bit longer, she told herself, but she was quickly running out of her special anti-magic arrows.

Four guards swiftly slipped up behind a distracted Cora, carrying a large mesh net imbued with magic especially designed to ensnare magic users. Once they were close enough, they raised and tossed the trap over the sorceress.

However, Cora spun and saw the incoming trap just in time to teleport away. The opened-mesh fabric failed, falling freely through the plume of purple smoke onto the asphalt, along with the cluster of black arrows. She reappeared on the other side of the four fools. Quickly, she turned the tables, using their own tool against them. She rolled her wrists and pinched her fingers together, controlling the magical net and wrapping the four in it. And with an exaggerated shove, she propelled the ball of guards towards the annoying archer.

With wide eyes, Anne tried to dodge, but she was clipped by a flailing arm and sent tumbling across the street. Her head hit the ground hard, rendering her unconscious.

Smirking, the sorceress turned her attention back to the pawnshop. She made a yanking gesture, and the main door was ripped off its hinges. She strode confidently inside, sealing the building with magic. Undoubtedly, there were more Crows Guard lurking in the shadows. She rolled her eyes upon seeing David, Neal, and Monty brandishing their swords at her. It wasn't even going to be sporting, as only the commander had any anti-magic gear.

David took a bold step forward and gestured with his sword, demanding, "Stop right there, Cora. We won't let you go any further."

She laughed at the false prince's audacity. "How quaint that you think a sword is going to slow me down." Eyeing the enchanted gauntlets, she chided, "Even with those damnable gloves, you can't stop me." Suddenly, she thrust her arms upward and above her head, making everything that wasn't bolted down levitate. She sharply twisted her hands at the wrist, and the room became a tornado, items swirling around her. As things broke, they continued spinning in an increasing lethal vortex of debris.

The three men were helpless to stop the assault. Broken pieces of glass and wood sliced into their clothes and skin. They were thumped with books, boxes, candlesticks, and everything else that cluttered the shop; but, it was the furniture that did the most damage. A chair leg smacked Neal upside the head, sending him spinning to the pass-through leading to the back of the shop. He crumbled in a heap along one side of the doorway. Monty was ultimately pinned under a heavy storage cabinet against the far wall. And David was sent stumbling backwards when a smaller display case slammed into his gut. His back hit the storefront window so hard that it cracked, but the magical barrier prevented him from breaking through it.

Stopping the magic, Cora casually made her way towards the back of the shop. "Excuse me," she said demurely, stepping over the Dark One's unconscious son.

Unbeknownst to her, Neal was fighting to stay aware. His ears rung, and his eyes burned as his body revolted against moving. He could only listen and hope someone showed up in time to stop the power-hungry sorceress.

"A vision told me about you, told me this day would come," Gold said contemplatively as he shifted. He hissed, unable to sit up without assistance. And trapped in his prone position, he watched as the woman he had once loved breezed across the small room. "But it didn't tell me everything," he continued with a reserved sadness. "Didn't tell me what I really wanted to know."

Sitting on the edge of the cot, Cora idly straightened the man's clothes and blanket. "And what's that?" she asked curiously. After all, going in right for the kill was bad form.

The pawnbroker didn't want to ask, not in his moment of utter weakness, but he had to know. It had consumed him for so long. "Did you ever love me?" he whispered.

"Oh, Rumpel," the sorceress softly cooed, reaching out and gently stroking the side of the dying man's face. "Why do you think I had to rip my own heart out?" she questioned, tilting her head. "You were my weakness. You are the only man I ever truly loved." With a smile that didn't reach her eyes, she explained, "I even bore your firstborn daughter."

"Regina," Gold rasped. It was impossible. Slowly shaking his head, his face contorted in anger.

Neal's eyes shot open, but the adrenaline boost wasn't enough to push his body to action. That woman had had a child with the Dark One? He shuddered at the prospect, and his mind, instead, focused on having a sister. Emma's girlfriend was his sister.

"Yes, Darling, even when you held her in your arms, you never realized she was yours," Cora elucidated with a distinct tone of pride. She easily pushed back his unruly hair.

Momentarily awed by the sheer diabolical cunning, the pawnbroker looked at his former apprentice with new respect. He had to know, had to understand. So, he quickly probed, "Is that why you bound her magic? To hide her from me?" However, his appreciations quickly morphed to dark amusement as he tittered, "I found her anyway, Dearie."

Familiar with his games, the sorceress allowed the injured man his self-perceived victory. After all, she would be killing him in short order, taking the Dark One's power as her own. And since she had her own questions regarding their daughter, she decided to share a bit more. "Even in your weakened state, I know you can feel it, the sparking and crackling of raw power under the surface," she elaborated, holding his contemplative gaze with hers. "Imagine having that growing inside you," she hissed, remembering the fear when she had first felt Regina's magic bloom inside of her. With a tired sigh, she removed the Dark One's dagger from her cloak and continued, "It took layer after layer, but I finally managed to contain her magic and hide her potential." The last binding had been wrapped around the unborn baby the day before her birth. With a white-knuckled grip, she held the dagger and spat with utter disbelief, "Then you went and bound her to that pathetic excuse for a princess."

"Kept her from your clutches, didn't it?" Gold taunted. His eyes fixated on the dagger and how the dimming light glinted off of it, watching as it was raised into the air above his chest.

~SQ~

Appearing outside the family mausoleum in the graveyard, Regina faltered in her purposeful trek. She hadn't expected the double doors to be wide open and the secret entrance to the underground lair, beneath her father's sarcophagus, to be exposed. Cautiously, she glanced around as she slowly approached the vault. She frowned because too many people had breached the magical sanctuary lately. She needed to fix that.

"Is Cora here?" Emma whispered, looking around but staying at the brunette's side.

"No," the former mayor answered, somewhat relieved. But who else would be there with everything that was happening?

The pair slowly descended the stone stairs, keeping their footfalls light. Heated whispers that morphed into whiny screeches echoed from deeper within, but the voices were still unrecognizable.

Frowning, Regina deftly navigated the dimly lit hall. Her eyes glanced around, apparently her mother had done a bit of housekeeping as the trunks and crates that had appeared upon her arrival had all been relocated. However, as they reached the room towards the end of the hall, the intruders had stopped talking. She watched as the sheriff readied her service weapon. When the blonde gave her a curt nod, they stepped together around the corner and into the room. Both women gasped, "Henry?"

Before moving to holster her gun, Emma surveyed the room for any other threats. It had a large, long table covered with books surrounded by heavy, wooden chairs and a massive stone hearth to one side. She spotted wooden boxes and trunks in various stacks along the walls. Mary Margaret and Henry stood next to a tall, open chest full of drawers. As she stowed her weapon, she stuttered, "What are you—? You know what, never mind." She'd deal with her son's escape from Ruby and Alexander later, but her mom's presence was completely mindboggling.

The former mayor bristled upon noticing the baroque box the school teacher was holding. She snarled, taking an intimidating step forward, "You have no right to be here and no right to that!"

Offering a soft smile, Mary Margaret allowed her relief upon seeing her daughter to settle her nerves. "I was going to give it to you," she started. Her expression shifted to one of sadness as she continued, "Cora can't love you, you know. She never has because she doesn't have her heart." Like an offering, she slightly raised the tiny chest.

"Your point," Regina demanded, narrowing her eyes. The notion that her mother may not have her heart changed things, but she couldn't dwell on that, at the moment. There were more pressing issues at hand.

The school teacher sighed softly. She cradled the ornate box against her body. "With it, maybe she can," she reasoned with a soft voice. With expressive eyes full of sorrow, she repeated, "Cora never loved you." Her tone turned wistful as she continued, looking down at the small chest with awe, "What would happen if she had her heart back?" Suddenly with a bright, joyful expression, she gushed with enthusiasm, "Imagine real love. You'd have a mother and a start on making a family Henry could be a part of." She extended her arms, freely offering the heart.

Unmoved by the declaration of potential happiness, the former mayor dropped her chin and glowered at her nemesis as she flexed her hands. Then, with cold confidence, she stated, "I have a family." That truth empowered her in a way she hadn't felt in nearly forever.

Emma couldn't stop the lopsided grin from spreading across her face. Her eyes went watery at the heated admission. However, her friend looked ready to snap. She placed a hand on the brunette's lower back as she stepped forward, calmly asking her mother, "What are you even doing here?" Her gaze dropped down the tiny box in her mother's grasp, prompting, "Wait, what's in the box?"

"Mother's heart," Regina quickly supplied, unmoving. She remained fixated on the woman in front of her, unable to look at Henry, willfully ignoring the boy's involvement, for the moment.

With a furrowed brow, the blonde blinked a few times. She squinted and pondered, "How'd you know about that? We just figured it out." She regarded her mother expectantly.

Mary Margaret shrugged, and with an offhanded tone, she replied, "Rumpelstiltskin suggested we could use it to stop Cora."

"Did he, now?" the former mayor drawled, further unconvinced by Snow White's altruistic motivations. No one running an errand for the Dark One was innocent. Softly, she tittered cheerlessly and slowly shook her head as she smirked. "And what, pray tell, did he suggest?" she queried, her interest slightly peaked.

Lowering the box, the school teacher was marginally confused by the distrust and delay. "We actually didn't get that far," she quickly admitted. Her gaze dropped down to her grandson briefly before explaining, "We just came to fetch it."

Emma scowled at the boldfaced lie. To hear it from her mother, with her son standing right next to her, made her stomach drop. She grimaced at the whipping lashes of the brunette's magic against hers. Unable to ignore the boy's presence any longer, she reprimanded, "You were supposed to stay with Ruby, Kid. What the heck are you doing here? Do they even know where you are?" God, Ruby and Alexander had to be worried sick. Monty would be seriously pissed. Her face blanched as she wondered what the hell had happened to afford him his escape.

"I wanted to help!" Henry pleaded, looking between the three women. Why was this taking so long? Why hadn't they gone to stop Cora, already?

Gesturing wildly with aggravation, the sheriff snappily hissed at the boy, "This isn't helping." She shook her head and rolled her lips as it was obvious the child wasn't comprehending. Instead, she shifted her focus to her mother, demanding, "Why would you even bring him here? He's safer with Ruby and the Crows Guard." How much more secure could you get than a werewolf and trained guards with anti-magic gear?

Squeezing her eyes shut before making herself to look at her son, Regina's face turned hard. Why couldn't he understand that this wasn't a game? "We'll deal with this display of insubordination later," she intoned forebodingly, further dismayed by the boy's open resentment. Returning precedence to the pressing problem at hand, she imperiously held out her hand for the box containing Cora's heart. There was no satisfaction when Mary Margaret easily handed it over, but she was slightly troubled with Henry's disappointed look. Again, that would have to wait.

When the familiar hand was offered, the blonde instantly took it and moved between her mother and the former mayor. She held Regina's hand tightly while gripping Mary Margaret's biceps. Needlessly nodding at her son, she wordlessly instructed the school teacher to take the boy's hand in her own. Then, without further ado, the four were teleported from the vault onto the sidewalk in front of Granny's Diner. Once the purple cloud cleared, Emma let go of her wobbling mother first, slowly allowing Regina to extract her hand from her own.

Mary Margaret's and Henry's eyes were comically wide. Clearly, this was the first time they'd ever been teleported.

"Oh, thank God!" Ruby Lucas exclaimed, running from around the side of the diner. Alexander Sirtis and Bruce Farmer were close behind her. She gestured wildly at the restaurant's front entrance as she excitably explained, "The Tillman thing blew up, and there was a mini riot in the diner." She dynamically shook her head and, with clear censure, said, "I'm so sorry, Regina, he slipped out."

However, the former mayor currently had bigger problems than the incompetence of others. She leveled a hard glare at Bruce, who had the good sense to cast his eyes downward. Her gaze drifted over the clearly distraught young drummer. She pursed her lips at seeing Alexander's split lip and bruising eye. She outright refused to look at the wolf's sad, puppy-dog expression. Casting her feelings aside, she quickly turned and strode across the street towards Gold's Pawnshop. The second her heeled foot touched the sidewalk, she knew her mother was already there.

Emma grabbed ahold of Henry's shoulders and put the boy directly in Alexander's grasp. She sternly told her son, "We'll deal with you later." Sighing, she noticed the former mayor purposefully striding toward the pawnshop. Her eyes widened at the destruction that Cora had clearly wrought in her wake. She hurriedly trotted after the other woman, calling over her shoulder to Ruby, "It'll be alright!"

~SQ~

Bored with their little game, Cora sneered, adjusting her grip on the dagger's handle, "All your hard work is about to come undone, Rumpel. Your legacy as the Dark One will soon be forgotten." A sense of accomplishment bloomed in her chest. "I don't recall the Dark One ever being a woman," she pondered aloud. Flashing a bright smile, she insisted, "This should be quite thrilling." As she was ready to strike the fateful blow, she felt a sharp pain in the center of her spine, followed by a strange sensation emanating from within her chest. She blinked once, twice, and then feelings overwhelmed her as she stumbled to rise from the cot. Finally standing, she shakily turned, saw her daughter, and her heart sang. Her mouth moved, but no words came out. With watery eyes, she dropped the dagger on the floor and reached out for her darling child. "I'm sorry," she whispered with total devastation, stumbling backwards and bumping into a wall. Gradually, she sunk to the floor, unable to hold herself up any longer. She just wanted to hug her darling baby.

Regina was numb as she observed the woman before her come undone. Uncertain what to think or what to make of the gambit of emotions speedily crossing her mother's face, she stooped and picked up the Dark One's dagger. She idly studied the artifact of power, not understanding the allure of it. But her eyes returned to her crying mother. She frowned.

Cora never cried, ever.

There was too much going on, too much to keep track of, and damn, Emma was worried about Regina. She wasn't sure how the former mayor had traversed the junkyard that was now the pawn shop, but she somehow kept up. When she spotted a wide-eyed Neal slumped in the passage to the back room, she instantly moved to help him up. Thankfully, the bulky guy got his wits about him and started moving of his volition. She thrust the canteen of spring water in his hands and shoved him toward his dying father.

Mary Margaret and David rushed into the room, catching the end of all the excitement.

"Just a sip," Neal instructed, helping his father drink from the canteen.

Monty stood in the doorway between the rooms. His eyes drifted to rest on his queen's back.

Almost everyone waited with baited breath, wondering whether or not the healing properties of the water would work against the poison. After another sip, it started to work; and although still weak, Gold knew he would make a full recovery.

There was a collective sigh around the room, each for different reasons.

"You'll need to keep this with you," Neal explained quietly, slipping the canteen's strap over his father's head. He wasn't sure how this was going to work without an ever-flowing source of the spring water.

Frowning at the woman who had killed her mother, Mary Margaret hurriedly suggested, nervously wringing her hands, "We need to do something with Cora." There was no telling what the manipulative woman would do now that she had her heart. Her gaze lingered on Regina, and she was concerned over the brunette's lack of emotion.

"The cells in the mines," David stated, rubbing his left shoulder with his right hand. "We can put her in there." He glanced around the room for consensus, pursing his lips as a few Crows Guard opened the side door of the pawn shop.

Monty raised his hand, halting their full entry. His watchful gaze returned to his queen.

"Hold on, shouldn't we see what happens, first?" Emma asked with honest concern, standing in the center of the small room. She rolled her lips as she adopted a confused expression, watching Regina and Cora. This wasn't the heartfelt reunion she'd expected, although the older sorceress was crying a river. But the former mayor seemed completely detached from it.

"Emma, she just tried to kill Rumpelstiltskin and take the Dark One's power," the school teacher beseeched with frustration. "She can't be trusted," she added with a tone of finality. Someone had to take the lead. Why not her?

"But she has her heart, now," the sheriff whispered, not taking her eyes off mother and daughter. Briefly, she cut a heated glare at her own mother. "Can we not give them a minute?"

Stepping around his wife, David reached out and gently rested a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "She killed Mary Margaret's mother," he explained in a quiet murmur, for her ears only, hoping it would bring clarity.

Well, shit, the blonde cursed. Just what she needed, another feud. She glanced over her shoulder at Monty who merely shrugged before focusing on the former mayor again.

Cora gently massaged her chest over her heart with her right hand. "I'm so sorry," she rasped to her daughter before finally passing out.

Oddly touched, Gold's eyes moved from his ex-lover to his former apprentice, his daughter. His gaze lingered on the dagger held firmly in her grip. That was when he noticed something strange happening. A thin, black tendril seeped out of the blade and coiled around the brunette's hand, sinking into her skin. "Best to lock her up and throw away the key," he absently commented as he observed another vine snaking out of the dagger.

Pulled from her reverie, Regina scowled and superiorly looked down at the imp. "The same could be said about you," she intoned. All this work to save him. It infuriated her, just like Whale's auto-perceived goodness. Would these do-gooders work so hard to save her life? She ground her teeth as she realized they probably would not. She wasn't blood. She was evil and, unlike the Dark One, not beneficial. Her eyes drifted back to her mother, and despair pushed at her chest. So much had been lost because of her blood ties to that woman.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'll have my dagger back," the pawnbroker demanded, still distracted by the thready wisps of magic leaking from the dagger. What was happening? He met her gaze and was strangely disheartened by the disdain in her eyes.

Emma nervously shifted from foot-to-foot. The room seemed to be in some bizarre sort of stalemate that had everyone on edge. Between Monty's heavy breathing through his nose behind her, Neal's death grip on his father's arm, her parents clinging to one another, and the other Crows Guard huddled in the side exit, she didn't know what to do with herself, but she'd support Regina, regardless of her next move.

Inspecting the coveted artifact, the former mayor pursed her lips. It was time for answers. "Answer me truthfully," she instructed Rumpelstiltskin, raising the dagger up in front of her, a visual reminder of her power over him. "The binding spell you tricked Emma into casting," she continued, returning her sharp eyes to the Dark One, "were you aware of its true purpose?"

"Not completely, but I had a good idea," Gold answered without hesitation or resistance. Things were spiraling out of his control. Another tendril escaped, caressing his daughter. However, it was the flash of violet eyes that produced the most disquiet within him. Her power awed him, but it was the untapped potential that alarmed him in equal measure.

"Why?" Regina demanded in a low voice. The imp never did anything without a reason. If she had learned nothing else over the years, she had definitely learned that lesson. She would not be out maneuvered, again.

Pressing his lips together, the pawnbroker shook his head. Again, he didn't even attempt to fight the command, believing everyone should know the danger amongst them. "You should be dead, but you're not," he finally explained in a rush. Magic kept slipping out of his dagger in miniscule amounts. It shouldn't have been possible! That was his power.

"That's helpful," Emma muttered, rolling her eyes. She crossed her arms, cocking her hips to one side.

Mary Margaret's mouth fell open as she gasped, connecting the dots. "The death curse on the Wishing Well." She looked up at her husband. "The one all the fairy dust was used for," she needlessly explained. Perhaps they should've discussed it with the Blue Fairy.

With a furrowed brow, David tilted his head in confusion. "Wasn't it just canceled?" he queried.

"You can't cancel a death curse," Gold snapped at the shepherd's idiocy. How he and Snow White had True Love was beyond him. At least, they had served their purpose. "She absorbed it," he drawled, slowly dragging his stare from the couple to his dagger. "She sucked in all that nasty destruction, and was none the worse for wear." His eyes once again met his daughter's. Would it make a difference if she knew? Would she even care? He looked away as he wondered if she'd ever forgive him for his dark role in her life. He despised the sentimental weakness inside himself.

"That used all of the fairy dust in the mine," David mentioned, not quite understanding how magical dust equated to death. "The dwarves had to dig for weeks before finding another dust vein."

Rolling her eyes and not really caring about the fairies at the moment, Emma raised her hands up, silencing everyone. She looked the pawnbroker in the eyes, and asked, "So, what? You thought binding us would, what? Fix it?" She wasn't entirely sure what she was asking or trying to find out.

Despite not being questioned by the one holding the dagger, Gold knew he needed to tread carefully. He shrugged and flippantly admitted, "It would at least give me an advantage." And it had, but the sheriff hadn't snapped the rebellious former mayor to heel as he had expected and intended her to do, under the helpful guidance of her parents, or course. He also hadn't expected the Evil Queen to take captivity so well, either.

Horrified and completely flummoxed, Mary Margaret tilted her head and sharply inquired, "What could you possibly get out of that?" Too many nights she'd spent her hours awake, trying to unravel the sneaky little man's motivations for hurting her daughter. She'd had dealings with him before, but nothing this damning.

The pawnbroker sat up with his son's help, already feeling a hundred times better in that short time. With his body free of the poison, his magic began repairing the damage that had been done to him. He also keenly felt the magic being drained from the dagger. "That's my business, isn't it?" he snapped, his mood fluctuating to a less accommodating one. "Now unless you intend to control me," he started, glaring pointedly at the woman holding the dagger, he held out his hand expectantly and requested with blatant demand, "I'd like my dagger back."

With a narrowed stare, Regina regarded the imp with a critical eye. He knew, she realized, that Emma, as the caster of the binding, would be able to control her magic—to what extent would be anyone's guess, but she hoped never to find out. She lowered the dagger and idly studied the magical artifact. The tension in the room solidified her decision. With surprising skill and ease, she fluidly tumbled the dagger around her hand, spinning it 180 degrees. Then, brandishing a rakish smile, she offered the handle to Neal, saying, "Here, he's your responsibility."

Neal blinked at the unexpected movement and was slightly impressed. Hesitantly, he opened his hand, slowly extending it to receive the dagger. "Wait, uh, why me?" he questioned when the pommel was forcibly tapped into his palm. Never before had he held the Dark One's dagger. It was surprisingly light.

Dropping her hand, the former mayor regarded Baelfire with newfound curiosity. Her instincts had been correct. She pursed her lips to hide her emerging, satisfied smirk. Laying responsibility for his father on him would suitably distract him from Henry and, thusly, spare her and Emma from another imbecile parent. "You are his son, and whether we like it or not, we all have our crosses to bear," she stated with sharp insinuation. She glanced briefly at the idiot Charmings still clinging to each other. Rolling her eyes in mild irritation, she turned to face her ever lurking protector, and instructed him, "Please see Mother to her new accommodations in the mines, and set a guard."

Nodding briskly, Monty acknowledged with a deep, "Yes, your Highness." He motioned for the loitering Crows Guard to enter and gather the queen's still unconscious mother. With practiced ease, the guards carried out their orders. He paused in the exit for a long moment, looking over his shoulder at his queen and then, at Emma, before finally leaving.

Gold shifted restlessly. He wanted these people gone. "If that concludes our business, I'd like to speak to my son, alone," he gruffly demanded. His boy holding the dagger was only a mild relief. At least the magic had stopped oozing out of it. Peering around the milling crowd, he looked for his cane.

Sighing, Neal lightly admonished his father, "Papa, be nice." With more confidence, he reminded, "They just saved your life." He didn't really understand why, but maybe his father had changed, despite the dark power coursing through him. Perhaps he'd stay for a bit, after all.

Hearing the word papa whispered in such a soft, gentle male voice made Regina's stomach turn. She scrunched her face in revulsion. Quickly, she turned and bolted out the side exit, hoping the rush of cold, fresh air would quell the rising bile.

Emma looked between the somewhat endearing scene of father and son and the former mayor's lightening quick exit. Her brow furrowed as she pondered the brunette's disgusted expression. However, she easily followed suit and left the pawn shop, huffing in frustration upon noticing Regina halfway to Granny's Diner.

"Emma, please wait!" called Mary Margaret, rushing out of the shop with her husband on her heels.

Slumping her shoulders, the blonde slowed, her steps exaggeratingly loud as her boots slapped the pavement. "Can we not do this right now?" she whined, turning slowly to face her parents. "I have a kid to yell at." And Regina to check on, she thought. She pushed her hair back away from her face.

The school teacher took her daughter's willingness to stop as a positive sign. Taking a deep breath, she softly intoned, "I realize things have been strained between us." Tears tickled her eyes.

Affectionately, David rested his large hands on his wife's shoulders, blurting, "We miss you." There was so much he wanted to say but didn't know how to begin.

"We just want to make things right," Mary Margaret gushed, clasping her hands together. She held them tightly against her chest, knowing her daughter wouldn't necessarily appreciate a hug.

"You're important to us," the former deputy added. He paused and looked over his shoulder at the pawn shop, seemingly lost in thought. "I think we all learned how strongly familial bonds connect us."

Blinking rapidly, Emma looked at her parents with mild shock. She rubbed the back of her neck with her left hand. Somehow, their loving expressions dented her defenses, and that, coupled with her rising need to check on Regina, pushed her to simply placate them. "Look, everything is so super complicated, right now," she groused, taking a step back.

Nodding with clear understanding, the school teacher took a deep breath of relief. "We know you have a lot on your plate," she admitted with clear acceptance. "But please know, we're here for you and Henry," she added, placing her right hand over her husband's on her left shoulder. "Let us help you. Let us make up for everything," she pleaded softly but firmly.

"I need to check on Regina and Henry," the sheriff mumbled before quickly turning around and trotting across the street. What the hell was that? She bit her lip as she felt surprisingly conflicted. Reaching the main entrance, she stopped and watched the former mayor through the glass as she tenderly inspected Alexander's black eye and split lip. A warm smile crossed her lips as she pulled the door open.

"That didn't go quite as well as I had hoped," Mary Margaret commented gruffly as her daughter darted across the street away from her parents. She silently hoped Emma would turn around or come back, but alas, it was not meant to be.

Lightly massaging his wife's shoulders, David kissed the top of her head. "Well, it didn't go quite as bad as it could, either," he said, attempting to console her.

"True, but it's a step in the right direction," the school teacher bubbled cheerfully. She couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. Maybe Archie was right. Right then and there, she decided to make another appointment with the town therapist.

~SQ~

Emma stood in the hallway outside of Henry's open door and took several long, deep breaths, trying to center herself before going in to have a much-needed talk. She was equal parts mad and disappointed with her son, but she refused to make Regina the bad cop on this one. The blonde knew she needed to get a handle on this behavior, soon, or Henry was going to be leaning more toward nature than nurture. And she really liked the way the former mayor had raised him.

Stepping through his door, she saw him look up from the large book of stories that had started them on their current path. She eased the door closed and sat down on the side of his bed, mouth set in an expectant but grim line. "We need to talk, Kid," she began without preamble.

Frowning down at the pages of his book, Henry sighed heavily and grumbled, "I'm grounded again, aren't I?"

"Kid, you were never ungrounded." The blonde put her left hand in the middle of the page he was staring a hole through, trying to get him to look up at her. "Why'd you run off? I thought we talked about this? I thought you understood," she finished, her voice pained as she remembered the very real danger he kept running into headfirst.

Henry finally looked up, expression earnest as he whined lightly, "I just wanted to help."

Frustration had won the war in her head and was beginning to bleed through into her tone when Emma asked, "How is getting yourself hurt or killed helping? This fairytale stuff is serious business." Making sure she caught his gaze, she intoned gravely, "They aren't playing around, Henry."

"It's just because things haven't worked out like they were supposed to," he replied glumly, shaking his head as he looked at his blonde mother with sad eyes.

"How were things supposed to work out?" she questioned, wanting to understand her son's motivations, hoping it would help her find a way to curtail his actions.

Breaking eye contact, the boy looked down at the book in his lap, idly picking at the edges of the cover. Eventually, he muttered longingly, "We were supposed to be a family in the Enchanted Forest."

Emma sat back with a small huff, proclaiming, "Kid, I read the same storybook. There was nothing there about us being a family, just a prophecy of me saving the day." Taking the book, she closed it and placed it on his desk, perching lightly on the desktop and crossing her arms over her chest. "And, I hate to break it to you, but I haven't exactly done a bang up job."

Henry brightened and gave her a winning smile, exclaiming, "You've been great, Emma!" Face scrunching slightly, he added, "You just haven't figured out how to master evil forces, yet."

The sheriff winced at the phrasing, tired of the boy only seeing good and evil, not reality. "Henry…. Well, since there are still evil forces to stop, maybe you shouldn't be running away," she reasoned with him, eyebrows raising pointedly as her expression turned stern.

The boy griped, "But I just wanted—"

"To help, I know," Emma cut him off shortly, "but that ain't gonna fly, anymore. You're grounded." Gesturing around his room, she began to list all of the prohibited items. "No television. No computer. No games. Nada. You get your homework, comic books and electric lights."

"That's not fair!" he blurted, shooting upright from his slouched position at the head of the bed.

Pursing her lips and tilting her head down, the sheriff pointed out, "Yes, it is, and you're also going to have one of the Crows Guard follow you around everywhere." She was done with him slipping away every time they took their eyes off of him. "What's not fair is that because you can't mind us and behave, one of the Guard is going to have to give up their free time to shadow you, now."

Seeing the firm set of her jaw, he fell forward dramatically, moaning, "Maaaa…."

Emma had had enough. Irritated that he wasn't taking things seriously, she barked sharply, "Don't." Pointing her finger at him, she said, "You broke our trust, Henry. Now, you have to earn it back."

Face flushing with anger, Henry shot back defiantly, "What about her? She broke my trust, first! Doesn't that—"

The bedroom door flew open and bounced heavily against the wall. Startled, Emma whipped her head around to scold the intruder, but she was flummoxed upon seeing the former mayor stalk into the room.

"Where did you get this?" demanded Regina in a low, clear tone.

Henry's eyes immediately dropped to the candle but quickly darted back to his brunette mother's livid look. Never had he seen her so mad, particularly at him. Reflexively, he swallowed and quietly answered, "The pawnshop."

Clenching her jaw, the former mayor's grip on the deadly candlestick tightened. "Did that imp give this to you?" she gritted out. Once she registered the adamant shaking of her son's head, she turned around and took several steps away. Her magic was churning, precariously close to bursting from her.

"Regina?" Emma cautiously interrupted, remaining still. She'd seen the bright purple flash of the brunette's eyes. After the stray lightning bolt on the highway and the mega storm earlier, she didn't know what to expect.

One deep breath led to another deep breath, and Regina turned back toward her son and his blonde mother. She held the candle out in front of her, and with less anger, she prompted more calmly, "Do you know what this does?"

With a quick nod, Henry explained, "I overheard Grandma and Gold talking about it." He cast a nervous glance at Emma. "He wanted her to use it on Cora to save him." He paused before hurriedly adding, "She didn't do it, though!" A weak smile turned the corners of his mouth, but as he held his mother's gaze, it disappeared. He looked away. His brow furrowed as he studied the books on his desk. His focus zeroed in on the spine of his fairytale book. Fueled by a flash of anger, he hopped off his bed and stomped toward his brunette mother.

"Henry," Emma warned, reaching for the boy. She missed him as he rushed past her. For the first time in a long time, she was worried how the former mayor would react to the boy, but she trusted her gut and waited.

"Why are you mad?!" shouted Henry. "We were trying to stop your mother." He stood in front of her, hands clenched into little fists at his sides as he breathed heavily through his nose.

"Henry," Emma repeated with wide eyes. Had the boy listened to nothing she said?

Regina felt the air suddenly more difficult to breathe as her son's words fully registered. Throat tight, she asked in a strangled voice, "And how did you propose to do that?"

Gaze falling to the candle like an admission of guilt, Henry shrugged and, without looking up, said, "Good always wins."

The brunette saw the flash of something in Henry's eyes and felt her gut twist in response. Glancing quickly at Emma to see her ashen face, she swallowed hard. Trying to maintain an even tone when she wanted to scream at the injustice of it all, she asked quietly, "According to whom? Sometimes good isn't always right."

The boy snapped his head up in surprise, a hint of betrayal in his expression. "Of course, it is!" he protested hotly.

Regina crouched in front of Henry, putting herself closer to his eye level. Still clutching the candle in her right hand, she draped her wrists over the end of her knees and maintained his gaze, saying, "Sometimes the good thing is the wrong thing to do." Deciding an example would be the best way to explain the concept, she began, "A building is on fire. You hear someone screaming for help. So, you run in and realize there are two people who are trapped. One person is unconscious and difficult to reach, while the other cowers in the corner near the door but appears capable of saving themselves." Making sure he was following her, she continued, "Saving either of them is good, but saving the one who could walk out under their own power, instead of the one who can't, is wrong." As his eyes started to slide away, she caught his chin with her thumb and forefinger, gently forcing him to look at her as she concluded, "Doing the right thing is a lot harder than doing the good thing, Henry."

"The hero should be able to save both," he replied, unsure why they couldn't see that possibility.

Emma sighed softly, cheeks beginning to warm as her frustration slipped back. "Kid, come on. That's not realistic."

"Neither is magic, but it's here!" Henry retorted with a scowl, pulling away from Regina, resentful at being double-teamed by his mothers.

Closing her eyes briefly to gather her thoughts, the former mayor focused on her son again and reminded him, "The world isn't black-and-white, and neither is magic. It's a spectrum of grey, and we are but shadows moving amongst shadows. Our choices are what determine our paths, Henry." Tilting her head to the side as she studied the recalcitrant boy before her, she changed tack and queried, "Would you say all lives are of equal worth?"

Feeling like he was on surer footing, Henry agreed, "Yes."

Nodding, Regina posed a new scenario. "If you had to choose between saving Emma and Archie, who would you pick? You can only save one, not both," she added quickly, watching the blonde shift restlessly behind him.

"Emma," he blurted immediately.

"Why?" she asked softly.

As if it were the most obvious answer, he said, "She's my mom."

Tone thoughtful, Regina clarified, "So, Archie has less value to you," making Emma flinch.

Brow furrowed in bewilderment, he protested, "No. He's my friend."

"But you would save your mother over your friend," she prompted him. Dark eyes filled with worry, she suggested, "Is that good?" The former mayor despised having to approach such a sensitive topic in this manner, but she remembered that callousness flashing in her son's eyes and pushed through.

Uncertainty settled over Henry's face as he admitted slowly, "I don't know…."

Standing again, the brunette tenderly cupped his cheek in her left hand. "My mother's life isn't worth less than another's," she admonished, her tone low and caring.

"But, she's evil. She's done bad things," Henry objected, pleading with her to just understand.

Regina's heart broke, realizing the same could be said of herself and wondering if, secretly, her son felt she deserved to die, too. The skin around her eyes tightened at the thought, and her voice contained a clear warning when she stipulated, "Perhaps, but you are a child. You haven't earned the right to make such judgements."

Exasperated by the dismissal, he alleged, "But Grandma was going to do it! Why couldn't I?" Frown firmly ensconced on his face, he insisted, "I just wanted to help."

Back going rigid, Regina blanched in fury, fingers curling into her palms, nails pressing hard enough to draw blood. The sound of the thick candle snapping in her grip shook her loose from her stunned paralysis. "Alexander!" she called loudly. Not waiting for a response, she yelled, "Watch Henry. He's not to leave your sight until we return."

Emma's stricken expression melted into one of alarm as she jerked away from the desk and moved toward her friend. "Wait. What?" she stuttered, unsure what Regina was planning but figuring it was going to end badly.

Grabbing the blonde's arm, Regina waved her hand, and the pair was engulfed in a cloud of purple smoke. As soon as they rematerialized, she released her hold on Emma and thrust her left hand out before her, magic forcing open Mary Margaret's apartment door. Her boot heels thundered across the old floorboards as she strode inside.

"Hey!" shouted David. He rushed toward the two women; however, he quickly found himself immobilized by iridescent, purple coils that had wrapped around his body. He pointlessly struggled against the bindings. With pleading eyes, he stopped and whispered his daughter's name.

Shaking her head, the sheriff wasn't sure what was going on or what had triggered the former mayor, but, she would let things play out.

"Regina," Mary Margaret gasped from behind the kitchen island. Her gaze briefly checked on her husband and daughter. "What can I do for you?" she prompted confidently. Yet, that sureness waivered slightly upon noting bright flecks of purple in the former mayor's irises. In all her years knowing the other woman, she had never witnessed such emotional rawness from her.

Holding up the broken candle, Regina hissed, "How did this end up in our son's coat pocket?"

Mary Margaret winced at the sight of the enchanted candle, unsure how she could explain things without totally setting off the volatile woman. Her tone took on a slightly pleading quality as she repeated, "Regina."

"How?" the former mayor demanded, taking another step closer. Her breaths were harsh and fast as she tried to reign in her temper enough to keep her magic in check. As much as she might want to blast the girl before her into oblivion, Henry would never forgive her for it, and it was debatable how Emma would take the loss of her parents. Her eyes were dark pools of obsidian as she glared at her old nemesis.

"Henry stole it from Rumpelstiltskin's shop," the school teacher admitted quietly, eyes flicking down briefly, shame starting to creep into her voice. Her grandson had only wanted to do the good thing.

Emma moved from the doorway to stand next to Regina. Planting her hands on her hips, she asked suspiciously, "How did he know about the candle?" The kid couldn't be that good of a sneak. If he was, they were in trouble when he developed an interest in girls.

Focusing on her daughter, Mary Margaret explained, "He apparently overheard us talking about it in the shop." Steadfastly, she shook her head, and quickly added with sad eyes, "I didn't know he'd slipped away from Ruby or the Crows Guard. I didn't see him hiding." Fussing with the tea towel on the counter, she whispered, "Gold never said anything." Did Rumpelstiltskin know? she pondered with a frown.

This, of course, did nothing to dissuade the former mayor from her query. "So, that justifies your intent to use it?" she questioned. Again, the sniffling Snow White had laid the blame on someone else. How many times would she have to endure this folly?

"I stopped Henry from using it, from darkening his heart!" the school teacher beseeched. Clearly stricken, she couldn't fathom why the former mayor was attacking her so vehemently. Cora wasn't dead. Henry hadn't darkened his heart, and neither had she.

Regina's eyes narrowed. Her voice was hard and cold, possessing an ominous quality. She vehemently retorted, "But, you were going to use it yourself. You wanted to kill Cora, and Henry latched onto your shining example of exalted piety and goodness. Our son was going to kill someone because you thought it was a good idea!" How did this girl not understand? Had she truly learned nothing?

"Yes!" Mary Margaret snapped back, moving around the kitchen island, her eyes alive with fire and anger. "I wanted to kill Cora," she clarified with all the passion in her soul. "She killed my mother!" she barked in justification. Wasn't she entitled to retribution? Isn't that what Regina had been seeking all those years?

"What?" the former mayor prompted. Her head tilted in confusion, and for a brief moment, the fury settled within her. Cora had killed Queen Eva. With a furrowed brow, she regarded the school teacher skeptically. "Whatever for?"

Taking a deep breath in realization at the reaffirmation, Mary Margaret knew then, although she'd always suspected, that her stepmother had no knowledge of the grand scheming of Cora Mills. So, it was with fond tenderness that she slowly repeated, "Cora killed my mother," concluding after a quiet breath, "so you could be queen." In that split second of rarely witnessed vulnerability, she observed the tempestuous storm rage within brown eyes. She swallowed thickly as the flecks of purple seemed to brighten and connect with quick, thin, flashing streaks, almost like lightening. It was quite unsettling. She took a quick step back, bumping into a stool at the counter.

"Regina?" Emma uttered. She didn't know what to do or think. The soap opera drama was well beyond her depth, and without the brunette's guidance, she felt something she hadn't in a long time, lost. Her gaze cut between brunette's rigid back, David's shocked expression, and Mary Margaret's look of concerned fear. Tentatively, she eased her magic towards the former mayor, testing and hoping for the older woman to come back to her and, more importantly, back to herself.

This is absolutely insane! Regina thought, letting her emotions roil as her body trembled with pure rage. Her fingers curled into the broken candle, pressing, the ancient wax oozing between her digits. As she felt her magic coil within her, absorbing the residual potential in the now useless enchanted candle, she realized just how much magic was at her fingertips, more than ever before.

Grinding her teeth, she stared through the hapless girl before her. Cora's quest for power and Snow White's disillusioned ideology of the world had stripped her of her freedom, ruined her, and cast her into darkness. And now, after she had managed to claw her way into the twilight of liberty, she was forever bound to Emma Swan, granddaughter to the bastard she tried every day to forget. Yet, in the same moment she cursed the blonde, her emotions settled within her as she sensed the tenderly faltering, hopeful touch of the sheriff's magic, and she realized Emma needed her. Emma wanted her.

Refocusing on the woman before her, the former mayor opened her hand, releasing the candle. However, before it hit the floorboards, the enchanted artifact dissolved into a flurry of purple sparkles. "If we're resorting to quid pro quo," she declared in a low, heavy tone, "let me remind you that I've yet to kill your first love." Her eyes cut to the restrained shepherd to her right.

David swallowed nervously. His eyes darted between the three women. He'd confronted the Evil Queen many times before, but this instance was different. Now, he realized she'd been holding back all along.

"Like I didn't suffer enough at your hands," Mary Margaret countered sharply. Anger overrode her fear. Her eyes flashed with a hateful gleam as she took a bold step forward, fists balled at her sides. How dare she!

Dismissively, Regina rolled her eyes, refocusing on the temper tantrum unfolding before her. "That's comparing apples to depravation," she coolly refuted, crossing her arms. Her gaze idly dragged over the school teacher who was practically buzzing with exasperation. Unimpressed with the declaration, she distantly continued, "At least I was honest with my feelings, Dear. I may have tried to kill you outright and barrage you with strife, but you sabotaged my entire life."

Emma winced. The truth in their words was like a punch in the gut. For the first time, the magic between them felt sour, and it left her feeling sick. She looked away, casting her gaze downward. Her thoughts drifted to their all-too-short trip to New York, and as her mind's eye replayed that telling massage, she redeployed on the conversation with new found strength.

"I tried to help you!" the school teacher cried in frustrated outrage, stomping her right foot. Why couldn't they move on from this? Not for the first time, she silently implored the older woman to at least try to understand. "I didn't want you to lose your mother," she rasped in torn aggravation. How was being her stepmother really that bad?

Cocking an eyebrow at the undignified outburst, Regina tilted her head to one side. She drummed her fingers on top of her arm as she tiredly assessed the grown woman before her. "And yet," she started but stopped, switching to a husky, sarcastic timber, "you try to take her from me now." Her brow furrowed as her eyes narrowed and flashed violet with sudden clarity. "You little bitch," she snarled in a low, deadly voice. Taking a long, quick step forward, she uncrossed her arms and flexed her hands. "You wanted to keep me for yourself," she accused. Selfish brat.

"What?" Mary Margaret rasped, jumping backwards. Bumping into a stool hard enough to knock another over, she feigned confusion. Her gaze flitted between her husband and daughter, both of whom had very different expressions. David was the epitome of understanding and love, while Emma's eyes were wide with disbelief.

Scowling, the former mayor raised her chin. She took no delight in extracting that particular tidbit, but now, the truth was out between them. Her breaths were measured as she flatly stated, "Your father was the king," Hate for the abhorrent man threatened to break her delicate control. So, she fixated on the clueless daughter. "You said yourself he was looking for a mother for you," she paused and continued with dripping distain, "and you found one and couldn't let me get away." A spoiled child, someone she'd trusted, had betrayed her.

"That's not it at all!" the school teacher quivered with too much practiced sincerity. Unable to meet her stepmother's hateful glower, she flinched under Emma's confounded expression. David's understanding and warm eyes did nothing to cushion her forbidden truth. Brushing her hands down the front of her sweater, she crossed her arms and defiantly repeated with her head held high, "I didn't want you to lose your mother."

"No?" Regina countered. Even now, when past malicious intent had been revealed, it was so blindly denied. She screwed her eyes shut. At least her mother didn't have a heart. Her face contorted into a savage snarl as her hands clawed at her clothes, aligning appearance with inner turmoil. With fire and venom, she seethed, "You went from happy for me and Daniel to ecstatic that I was marrying your father so quickly, I'm surprised you didn't have whiplash." How could a singular person push her so close to the edge?

Meekly, Mary Margaret whispered, "You said he'd left." She never knew. Why did Regina lie to her? Tears gathered in her eyes. Oh, God, what had she done? She covered her mouth with her hand, stalling a gut wrenching sob. I'm so sorry, she chanted in her mind, but she couldn't make herself say the words aloud.

"He did, in a coffin," the former mayor snapped, reopening her eyes. She was unmoved by the lame display of repentance, as it was too little, too late. Her chest heaved under her now rumpled shirt. "Mother killed him because you couldn't keep a secret." Daniel had been her one light whilst under Cora's thumb after their move north from the Southern Kingdoms, and a child's selfish desire had taken that from her.

"I was a child!" the school teacher implored, as if that explained everything. Tears fell freely, now. She struggled to breathe as her heart suddenly felt too large within her chest. "Why can't you understand that?" she whined. They'd been happy, for a time. She remembered those days with such fondness; she used to wish for their return constantly.

"And so is Henry!" Regina bellowed, condemning the imprudent woman before her. Ruefully shaking her head, she took a deep breath and frowned. Things had certainly gotten off track. She allowed steely resolve to click into place. "I will not let him turn out like you," she promised with utter loathing. She'd saved Snow White numerous times, both willingly and unwillingly, but that was done. Now, her efforts were for Emma and Henry.

Mary Margaret was clearly conflicted. She didn't know how to react to the sudden shift in topic. What did Henry have to do with her supposed past gaffes against her stepmother? With a furrowed brow, she haughtily demanded, "What does that mean?" She wiped angrily at her tears.

In an instant, the loft apartment seemed to almost ice over; and with a tone just as chilling, the former mayor warned, "It means stay away from our son, Miss Blanchard." She was done with this, with this woman, and with this entire situation. She was emotionally frayed and bone tired, and if not for Emma and Henry, she'd burn them all. So with an elegant ease, she turned on her booted heel, freed the hapless shepherd from his bonds with a flick of her left hand, and extended her right to Emma as she stalked towards the still open door. Relief washed over her as the blonde took her hand without hesitation. Not wanting to linger on the warm, soothing strokes of their magic combining, as it now did every time they touched, she immediately rolled her left hand and teleported them home.

They appeared in Henry's room.

Seeing her son safe and sound on his bed, his nose buried in a comic book only made Regina more tired. Her scanning eyes took in Alexander's slumped form as he studied at desk. Yet, he immediately straightened upon noticing his queen's return.

"Your Highness," the young drummer greeted, standing. His brow furrowed at the weak smile and the subtle, dismissive gesture of her hand. He glanced quickly between Emma and Henry before the queen left the room. Something had happened.

Startled by his mothers' return, Henry quickly sat up on his bed, comic book tossed aside. His keen eyes avidly observed his brunette mother, but he frowned when she said nothing to him. Bossily, he interrogated his blonde mother, "Hey, where did you go?"

Before releasing the former mayor's hand, the sheriff gave it a good squeeze, hoping to elicit some sort of response: a return squeeze, a sorrowful look, even a bashful smile. But there was nothing. Slowly, she lowered her hand as she watched the brunette leave the room and head downstairs. "Not now, Kid," she quietly told her son, biting her lower lip.

After a slow, deep breath, she propelled herself forward, out of Henry's bedroom, and started down the stairs. Her feet had just hit the landing when she heard the soft click of the study door closing. For some reason, she didn't want to leave Regina brooding alone. Frustrated tears welled up in her eyes. She was halfway across the foyer when Monty gently stopped her.

"Hold on, Emma," Elmwood commanded quietly. He laid a firm hand on the sheriff's biceps, and suggested, "Let's give her a moment." His gaze darted towards the closed door. He was touched by the woman's open concern.

"A moment?" the blonde scoffed, trying to keep her voice down. The house felt eerily quiet without the bustle of guards. "Are you kidding me?" she criticized, roughly pushing his hand off her. But she instantly regretted it. Running her hands through her hair, she shook her head and forlornly lamented, "I don't want her thinking she's alone." She turned large, sad green eyes upon the commander.

Releasing a heavy exhale, Monty firmly reassured the distraught sheriff, "She knows she isn't." Of that, he was absolutely certain. He may not have been able to be what his queen had needed, but he remained secure in his support of her. Content that the blonde would allow Regina her solitude, he relocated to the den. It was going to be a long night, and he hoped to grab a brief respite.

Emma aggressively stuffed her hands in her jeans' pockets. Torn, she glanced between the closed study door and the open door leading down to the den. She bit her lip and dropped her head. Her long blonde hair obscured her view of the rest of the house. It helped her to think. Then, sliding her phone out of her back pocket, she quickly googled a word that hung in her memory from the night's conversation, depravation. She frowned as she realized it didn't quite mean what she had thought it meant, having confused it with deprivation. She had no doubt that Mary Margaret had gotten it wrong, too. Stowing her phone back in her pocket, she bounded down the stairs to the den.

Hearing the thundering steps, Monty, who had just sat down on the plush, leather sofa, pursed his lips as the sheriff stood before him. "What are you doing?" he asked, not hiding his confusion. At least, she hadn't run into the study as soon as he had left.

The two Crows Guard at the pool table merely spared the blonde a brief glance but listened for their commander's order.

Crossing her arms, Emma regarded the large man sitting before her with intense scrutiny. "You and I are going to have a talk," she replied easily before pausing. Her eyes searched him, studied him as she tried to establish a baseline reference. Monty Elmwood was not an easy man to read, except for his fierce protectiveness of Regina. All the Crows Guard wore that on their sleeves.

"Alright," Elmwood acquiesced with a tilt of the head. Wordlessly, he gestured for her to continue. This behavior only confirmed his suspicions on several counts.

Relieved and surprised, the sheriff understood she had to be selective with her questions and not drag things out too long. "What was it like in the castle?" she asked, starting with something relatively safe and a bit obvious, for the most part. "Mary Margaret says life was great, but Regina hints at a different story."

"It depends on who you ask," he deflected, deciding to test the blonde's resolve.

"I'm asking you," she drawled. Her eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips. Somehow, she got the impression he was challenging her.

Acknowledging the distinction with a soft hum, Monty relaxed into the sofa. "Life as a castle guard was interesting," he supplied and easily added, "pay was respectable." He watched the woman who would one day, if he had his way, become the queen's personal bodyguard and something more, as well, he suspected. "When Queen Regina arrived, I was assigned to the queen's guard," he elaborated, curious as to where the sheriff would take their conversation.

It was refreshing to the blonde to hear someone talk about Regina's time as queen in a positive light. "What was that like?" she pondered, relaxing her stance a little.

"Most of the time, the Queen was easy to work for, didn't have unreasonable expectations, and was never cruel for cruelty's sake," Elmwood answered without hesitation. He linked his hands on his lap.

Nodding, Emma mentally shuffled her new information with what she already knew. "So, roughly translated, she had her reasons for the things she did," she deduced. That was good to know, since everyone carried on about the Evil Queen this, the Evil Queen that. At least Regina wasn't branded a criminal right out of the gate.

"In a nutshell."

So, with a few basic questions under her belt, she decided to go fishing. She wanted to know things that others may have deemed unimportant. Without missing a beat, she probed, "How old was she when she married Mary Margaret's father?" Everyone knew age had a lot to do with someone's frame of mind.

A firm scowl settled across Monty's features as he remembered the day Regina arrived at the castle. There was a sharp edge to his voice as he answered, "The wedding was two weeks after her seventeenth birthday."

Although not necessarily surprised, given the medieval lifestyle of the Enchanted Forest, Emma was quietly growing concerned over where this was all undoubtedly heading. "Seventeen? Wow. Okay…," she trailed off, letting her arms fall to her sides. It was one thing having reservations, but having something validated was totally different. Clearing her throat, she softly solicited, "How old was Mary Margaret?"

Raising an eyebrow, he was ready to measure her response as he replied, "The princess was thirteen at the time."

"Hold up," the sheriff coughed, raising a hand. She swallowed as the implications bubbled toward the foreground. "She's only four years younger than Regina?!" she squeaked in utter surprise. Biting her lower lip, she cast her eyes away, focusing on the rows of books, movies, and music.

"Yes."

Shaking her head, she rubbed the back of her neck, muttering, "I'm know I'm gonna regret asking this, but..." She trailed off, regaining her composure as she firmly stood with hands on hips. "What about the king?" she demanded. "How old was he?"

Elmwood surmised the next minute, and he wanted the blonde to impress him with her responses. Flatly, he elucidated, "The king was fifty-nine years old."

"Holy shit!" Emma cursed, unable to remain still any longer. She threw her hands up in the air and paced around in a tight circle. Her mouth went dry as she husked with wide eyes, "He was over three times her age? That's . . . that's…." She didn't have words. She couldn't imagine letting someone that old touch her when she was seventeen, let alone marry them. "Fuck," she whispered.

Content with the emotional response, Monty decided to push the soon-to-be recruit a little further. He ideally explained, "It wasn't uncommon for older men to marry younger women in the Enchanted Forest, especially if it was a second marriage." He did not, however, adequately prepare for her outright anger.

The sheriff spun about to face the commander and animatedly sneered, "Older would put him in his mid-thirties, tops." She shivered with disgust, squeezing her eyes shut. "This puts him in grandfather territory," she hissed, her stomach churning. "Fuck!" she whined. "She was just a girl…." Her desire, her not-so-new need, to protect the prickly brunette flared, but she was too late to save her and that hurt.

"Indeed," he agreed, fully understanding the blonde's mixture of rage and despair on rampant display.

"Goddamnit, Monty!" Emma cursed, picking up the small, glass candy dish on the coffee table and tossing it across the room. It shattered against the far wall in an extremely satisfying and spectacular fashion. Peppermints littered the carpeted floor, and the other guard members stopped pretending to play pool. She shook her head and clenched her fists. "That is some seriously messed up shit," she seethed, trying to calm herself. Sharp eyes locked onto the commander, she rallied her anger, glaring. "How the hell could anyone justify that kind of…?" Her words failed her as rage once again overflowed. This time a bookshelf was the victim.

~SQ~

It had been a couple of hours since they'd returned home, and Regina was still firmly ensconced in the study. Deciding that she couldn't let her friend stew any longer, Emma quietly rapped twice on the door, waiting to hear the muffled, "Come in," before entering. The room was dark, the flickering light from the fireplace doing little to illuminate the space. Gently pushing the door to after her so that it was barely cracked, she gradually made her way over to Regina.

The brunette was sitting in the middle of the sofa, a full glass of apple cider resting on the coffee table before her. The sheriff considered that her friend looked rather vulnerable in her navy slacks and stockinged feet. The white, button-down shirt that had been so crisp that morning was now wrinkled and nearly untucked from her pants. It seemed almost impossible that just that morning they had been in New York City as dawn had crested the horizon. Over sixteen hours later, they had encountered changes that would undoubtedly ripple through their lives for months to come.

Regina's dark eyes flicked up briefly when the blonde entered the room, but she said nothing as she approached the couch. She had heard Emma's outburst from the den and the subsequent, impromptu 'redecorating' that had ensued. The former mayor had a fairly good idea of their conversation, having caught the angry shout of, "She was too fucking young to be forced into a shit marriage!" It simultaneously warmed and tore at her to know someone cared enough to be that mad on her behalf. Not for the first time since the bond had been activated, she wondered what it would have been like to have had Emma Swan standing up for her all those years past.

As it was, she released a slight sigh when the cushion dipped to the right of her as the blonde came to sit beside her on the sofa, shoulder lightly touching hers. The silence was comfortable as they sat next to each other, staring into the flames and listening to the wood crackle. At some point, Regina leaned forward and captured her tumbler of cider in her left hand. She took a slow sip, enjoying the alcohol flowing down her throat, leaving behind a faint burn and sweet aftertaste.

"Been a hell of a day, huh?" Emma murmured, finally breaking the quiet that had settled between them.

Letting out a quick bark of laughter, the brunette sardonically replied, "That's an understatement." With a wry smirk, she passed the glass to Emma, who took it with a raised eyebrow. "You look like you could use a drink, as well," she explained.

"Yeah," she agreed. Grumbling cynically, she added, "I could use the whole damn bottle," and took a hearty swig. Blinking a little, the blonde took a second, smaller sip before handing the drink back. "Crap. I forgot how strong that stuff is," she wheezed.

Regina chuckled sincerely, mirth spreading through her. Curling her legs up onto the sofa, she leaned into Emma slightly, taking another swallow of the cider. "This is from my twenty-year vintage," she supplied. "Pace yourself, or you won't make it upstairs," came the teasing warning.

Emma smiled softly, eyes twinkling as she retorted, "If that's the case, then that was a mighty full glass for you to be hoarding all to yourself."

"Mm," the brunette hummed noncommittally in response. "I was hoping you'd want to share," she admitted faintly, sipping the amber liquid again before passing it to the blonde.

"Good. We can get drunk together," the blonde said flippantly, only half joking and knocking back a mouthful of the alcohol.

Snorting in amusement, the former mayor abjured, "Yes, because that's the sort of example we want to set for Henry," voice wavering on his name. Thoughts of the candle and Henry's determination to use it on her mother rose up, chilling her to the core. Her son wasn't supposed to be this way. He was meant to be sweet and kind, and he was never, ever to have entertained the idea that doing bad things should be punishable by death. She let her head rest on Emma's shoulder, permitting herself that small comfort, shifting in tandem as the sheriff returned the glass to the coffee table. A warm, dry hand found hers, pressing their palms together as fingers intertwined and held tight.

Emma remained quiet as Regina leaned against her side, content to offer support the only way she knew how, at the moment. It wasn't right that their son had changed like he had, and she didn't really know who to blame. She supposed they could blame themselves, two women who had been hurt and betrayed many times before. Were they too damaged to raise their son, give him what he needed? But when she thought of Regina, all the blonde could think was that Henry was a miracle the brunette had molded into reality from the nothing the sheriff had given them to start with.

A few minutes passed before the sheriff realized that the shoulder of her shirt was damp from the brunette's silent tears. Resting her cheek on the dark crown of hair, she let the moisture that had gathered in her own eyes edge over her lashes. Tentatively, she allowed a little magic to slip from her and into the former mayor, hearing the shaky exhale of relief from beside her. She had kept a tight reign on it when she'd initially taken the brunette's hand in hers, unsettled by how, ever since the storm, her magic automatically tried to seek out Regina's power at the slightest touch. The effects of the day wearing on her, she let herself slip into a light doze.

Regina closed her eyes as Emma's magic eased through her in a faint trickle. Even though it was tinged with sadness and worry, it was relaxing and familiar, a balm to the raggedness of her emotions. Part of her realized she should be more concerned with how much she was beginning to need this kind of contact from the other woman. However, as she drifted into a surprisingly peaceful slumber, she knew that it was because she had come to trust Emma implicitly, and she was comfortable with that.

Having not heard anything for a long while and no footsteps on the stairs, Monty went in search of his queen and the sheriff. Checking the study, he was surprised to find the pair asleep on the couch, light snores reaching him in the doorway. Emma was leaning back on the sofa, head tilted to rest on top of Regina's, mouth slightly open. The queen was pressed against the blonde's left side, head nestled into the crook of her shoulder, their clasped hands resting on the brunette's thigh. The big man carefully closed the door and took up station along the wall outside the study, smiling contentedly to himself.

~SQ~

End of Part 9