A/N: This is the last chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it. Thanks for all the feedback. And now we wait for the season premiere!
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Chapter Ten: To The Pain
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Walking down one of the innumerable passageways of the castle, Emma led the way as Neal stayed close behind. Torch in hand, the princess made mental notes of where her son's room would be located. The main hall was too exposed for discreet travel, the morose path was their best option. Neal, however, was the last person she wanted to share the cramped space with.
There's so much I want to say, she thought angrily. Where do I even begin?
"So how'd you get involved in all this?" It was a good place to start.
"I heard about what happened to you," Neal said, his breath trailing down Emma's spine. "Tried tracking you down, but found your folks instead. I got to you, though, eventually."
His attempts at humor only agitated Emma further. Talking to him was too distracting, she decided, so she focused on her search for Henry's room, in silence.
"What's he like? My son?" His inflection indicated some thinly veiled bitterness. Emma tripped over a chipped stone, caught off guard by his commentary. She recovered before he could assist her.
"He's a great kid," she said proudly. "No thanks to you."
"Look, Em, I didn't have a choice," he huffed, speaking briskly. "My father, he—"
"Save it." She cut him off, walking faster in the hopes of escaping their conversation. "I know all about your dad." Without having to look at him, Emma knew he required further explanation. She could hear his unsteady wheezing, anticipating his question. "Hook told me," she said, exhaling deeply.
"I see." Neal's reaction was hard to read in the dim lighting, but he couldn't hide his disapproval as he chuckled disdainfully. "And how was I supposed to know you were pregnant?"
"You would have known if you'd bothered sticking around," she barked, stopping mid-stride and spinning around to face him fully. "You don't get to be mad at me. When was I even supposed to tell you? You left me without so much as a goodbye," Emma snapped, her voice cracking. "You left all of your stolen crap in my family's house. You used me as some sob story to save your own neck."
"I'm sorry."
"I know," she said simply, calming down. "Let's just get Henry and go." His remorse was to be expected, but Emma was rattled by his sincerity. Her outburst had humbled him, Emma noted.
"I'm sorry, for everything," he pressed, urging her to hear him out.
"I don't want to hear it."
"Yeah, but I have to say it." There was such intensity in his gaze that Emma couldn't ignore him. Earning her full attention, Neal wet his lips before continuing. "It kills me that I left you. I wanted to look for you sooner. I just—I was too afraid."
"Of what?"
"That you would never forgive me, because I never forgave myself. There hasn't been a day that's gone by that I don't regret having left you. I'm sorry, Emma."
After a long pause (and after Emma let his words seep in), she dipped her head in acceptance of his apology. It was the closure she had longed for over a decade now; she felt as though a weight had been lifted from her, the walls she'd built up slowly crumbling.
Shortly after, Emma confirmed they had reached Henry's bedroom. The door, as assumed, was sealed. Regina said she'd locked him up, she remembered. I have to get him out. Neal saw her struggling with the handle and slid between her and the door.
"I got this," he declared, extracting some thin rods from his jacket. He fiddled with the lock, tongue flicking at the corners of his mouth in concentration. Finally, they heard a click. Jerking at the knob, Neal was able to turn it, the door squeaking open. Even after all that time, Emma was still impressed by his skill.
Emma willed herself to tread slowly so as not to cause a racket. Her son's room would be fortified with some enchantment, she was sure. Why she had been able to enter without much trouble Emma couldn't explain, the notion tickling the back of her mind. But when she saw Henry sitting on his bed, staring out his window, she wouldn't contain herself.
"Henry!" she whispered harshly, tears dripping down her cheeks.
The little boy turned, leaping off the mattress and into her arms. "Mom!" His voice was less subdued, his chubby hand whacking his mouth to cover it. "I knew you'd come."
"We're breaking you out," she mumbled into his hair, her hold on him nearly threatening Henry's air supply. She let go and cradled his face, wiping away her own tears as she smiled widely. "Your grandparents are looking for Regina. We've gotta move fast."
Henry grinned at the news of their return, his hand firmly gripped by his mother. Reaching the back door to his room, he saw a man standing there, body leaning into the hallway as he apparently kept a look out. "Who're you?" he asked brightly.
Neal froze at the sight of his son, the first time seeing his child. He was a cute kid, his round face and light eyes visible even in the darkness. Clearly welcoming to strangers, Henry looked at him expectantly, with no resentment in his eyes. I just want to do better, he thought, determined not to repeat the mistakes of his father.
"He's… a friend," Emma supplied. Neal consented to his introduction, making his way into the corridor.
He was eager to stay near to Henry but the narrow passage wouldn't allow for it. When they approached a corner, Neal stopped, signaling for Emma and their son to keep quiet. They remained motionless as a sprinkling of soldiers passed, their pace leisurely. With their backs against the walls—Emma now directly in front of Neal—he could better read her expression.
She never looked at him, her stare distant and vacant like her thoughts were elsewhere. Neal recalled her reunion with her parents, moved by their loving embraces. It was evident she was concerned for them, likely wondering about their progress in finding the Evil Queen. But there was something else, something he hadn't wanted to believe. The way her face had lit up when she had seen the Captain, however, could not be denied.
"You really care about him, don't you?"
Emma's pupils moved downward while the rest of her stayed in place; she knew precisely who Neal was referring to. Gradually, her gaze met his and she was surprised to find no judgment in his look. Neal didn't like Hook, that much she was well aware of, but there was an resignation in his pitch that read as approval.
She nodded curtly. When he was certain the guards were far enough away, Neal took hold of Henry's hand, gently squeezing it. "Go," he said, picking the boy up and placing him on his back. "Be with your family."
"But what about—"
"Me and the kid will be fine. We're almost out anyway." Neal seemed to scold her, knowing Emma well enough to predict her hesitation. "They need you. Go."
Emma mouthed her thanks, bowing her head appreciatively. She kissed Henry's temple before heading down the passageway in the opposite direction, jogging with a renewed sense of purpose. When faced between fear and love, you choose love.
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Charming raced through the halls, which were illuminated by elevated, ornate chandeliers. Finding themselves in a well-trafficked portion of the palace, the group of three found no use in trying to be cautious in their movements. Feet stomping against the marble, Snow and Hook trailed behind David, each keen to the possibility of the Evil Queen's appearance.
David slowed when he reached a complex intersection of several corridors, watching as four soldiers impeded their path. As he drew his sword, his wife and the pirate joined him at either side, readying their own weapons. The guards parted to make way for Cora, who strolled to place herself in front of them, proud and arrogant.
"My, my," she sang, her velvet-gloved hands clasped at her hips. "You're making this quite easy for me, aren't you."
David tensed, his blade raised even higher. Then he heard faint laughter coming from behind; it was from Snow. Her amusement was short-lived, her features taking on a more serious countenance. Even the Captain was troubled by her brashness, eyes following her as she moved closer to the queen's mother.
"Trust me," she stated strongly. "This is going to be anything but easy."
Cora ordered the soldiers to attack, David and Hook dispatching of them effortlessly. The pirate disarmed one man who tussled about, kicking him soundly to ensure his defeat. But Cora only grinned at her men's failure, her fingers curling as she conjured her magic.
"Don't even think about it," Snow White warned, withdrawing something from her vest compartment. It was a hefty item wrapped in ripped parchment. While her comrades were ignorant to its contents, Cora knew what she held in her hand. And it chilled her.
Cora ceased her gestures, visibly shocked by Snow's trick. "How did you—"
"You killed my mother," she interrupted ferociously, unwrapping the pulsating organ and clamping down around it. Cora clutched at her chest, and David knew: Snow had captured her heart. "Prepare to die."
Cora stood rigidly, recovering from the pain. She saw that Snow had no interest in controlling her with it; she was always too pure for her own good. After a moment, Cora scurried off down the hallway, her powers weakening by the second.
"Oh no you don't," Snow sneered, breaking into a run herself. David looked on as his wife chased after the sorceress, dumbfounded by what had just occurred.
His pace quickened, anxious to pursue Cora as well. Before he did, Charming turned to the pirate, whose expression was just as perplexed. He had to repeat the Captain's moniker a few times to break the trance, removing a leather bracelet from his wrist. He emphatically shoved the item towards Hook, finally gaining his attention.
"I can't leave her alone with that woman," David explained, the pirate accepting the band. "This should prevent Regina from using her magic. All it has to do is touch her skin." His words came tumbling out, but Hook comprehended the prince's meaning. "Find her and take her down."
"Yes, your highness," he replied sarcastically, pocketing the bracelet.
"I'm trusting you."
He held the Captain's gaze for a beat, trying to make him out. The pirate's tendency for self-preservation made the prospect of him joining forces with the Evil Queen entirely plausible. But after fighting alongside the man on several occasions that evening, David was beginning to see why Emma had such confidence in him.
"That woman put me—and your daughter—through hell and back," said Hook, his teeth gritted together. "It shall be done."
Satisfied with his resolve, David sped up and left the Man in Black to handle Regina. He ran hastily down the broad hallways, scanning the area for any signs of his wife.
Many floors below, Cora fled, finding sanctuary in one of the (currently vacant) servant's dining rooms. She shut the large wooden door, bracing herself against it when she heard Snow White nearing her location. It had been so long since Cora had felt true terror, her ribcage burning. Rumplestiltskin, you clever imp.
Snow slammed her fist against the door, calling out to the witch within. Cora backed into the room, watching at the doorframe shock under Snow's efforts. She gripped the heart with greater pressure, causing Cora to yelp in agony.
Listening to her cries gave Snow an abundance of strength as she kicked at the door relentlessly. Finally, the entryway collapsed, revealing the trembling enchantress. Pacing towards her, Snow took her sweet time, savoring the sight of a helpless Cora.
Then, too quick for her to dodge, the queen's mother threw a cloud of smoke at her, the charged bubble wounding her side.
"Give up, dear," she taunted. "You can never beat me."
Snow winced as she tried to rise, blood staining her clothes. Her wound fizzled with bits of electric matter. To her left she saw Cora's heart, several inches away and no longer in her possession. No.
No longer at the girl's mercy, Cora's stamina returned to her. Her posture reflected her improved state, back straight and shoulders aligned. She corrected the fit of her gown, removing her gloves and tossing them onto a dining table; she wanted to feel every ounce of magic coursing through her as she advanced on Snow, who was currently crawling towards the vibrant organ.
Cora struck her again, with a bolt of lesser potency, this time in the shin. Snow ceased her attempts, collapsing onto the floor. I'm sorry, Emma. I tried.
"Incredible," Cora hummed, figure looming over her disabled enemy. "You've been fighting me for so long, only to fail now. I think that's the worst thing I ever heard. How marvelous."
The queen's mother channeled her power into a single, walloping cloud in her hands, its size increasing as she hovered over her prey. Snow grunted beneath the gusting wind, scrambling feebly as she pressed against her new wound, her digits ghosting along the heart's flesh.
"Good heavens, are you still trying to win?" The sorceress cackled.
As Cora's torso leaned in closer—just close enough for her to reach—Snow thrust the beating heart into her chest. Cora choked, the materializing smoke dissipating.
"You killed my mother," Snow repeated. "Prepare to die."
The last remnants of Cora's hubris deflated as Snow pulled out the enchanted candle, cognizant of the wicked woman's history with it. Cora fainted, succumbing to the curse placed upon her heart, her eyes wide and dazed. Her short breaths stopped after a moment, her body going completely limp. The witch was dead.
David arrived in the dining hall just as Snow was beginning to stand, one knee jammed firmly into the ground. He immediately came to her aid, spotting a fallen Cora in the distance. "What did you do?"
"I finished it," she panted, pulling herself up with her husband's help. "Now let's go find our daughter."
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In the western wing of the estate, Emma came upon a dead end. After turning the corner, the hall terminated abruptly. This was a forgotten section of the castle, one untouched by the queen's new design. Chalky curtains lines the walls, and curving patterns were drawn onto the stone. Flowers, Emma observed, just like the ones on her family's crest.
Her instinct dictated that she turn around and continue her search for her parents—and for Hook—but she was inexplicably drawn to the room at the end of the hallway. Its entrance camouflaged behind the thick drapes, Emma entered the quarters with an assertive push. Dust particles erupted into the air, making Emma cough and squint.
As she swatted the powder away, the princess took in her surroundings. It was oddly familiar, although Emma was certain she had never stepped foot in the room before. She made to light some of the melted candles that hung up on the sides of the chamber, the light revealing the contents of the space little by little.
Large toys and dolls occupied one corner, vividly colored stuffed animals that were once soft to the touch. There was a play pen to the left, the wood now splintered and decayed. Stepping slowly further into the room, Emma paused when she reached a crib, a crystal mobile dangling overhead. She exhaled hectically when she realized this was her room, or rather, the room that was meant for her.
This was my nursery, she ruminated. I was supposed to live here.
"I didn't have the heart to destroy it."
From behind her, Emma heard heels clicking against the aged marble, deliberate in their steps. Regina approached her, taking in the abandoned alcove. Of all the remnants of Snow White's home, this was the one place she could not disrupt. The queen had hoped, fleetingly, that one day she would make use of the space; she had always been drawn to the idea of motherhood.
"I'm surprised you have a heart at all," Emma retorted, pitch severe and strained.
"It's appropriate, really," the Evil Queen continued, ignoring the insult. "That this be the place you meet your end." Circling her, Regina felt a pang of disgust towards the blond haired woman who had been unwilling to sacrifice herself to save her son. Suicide, it seemed, was a step too far for the stubborn princess.
"I'm gonna enjoy this," Emma spat before lunging at the queen. Striking her square in the jaw, Regina stumbled back, hitting her foe in return with equal force.
Bearing her teeth, the Evil Queen levitated a neighboring nightstand and hurled it at Emma, frustration growing as she watched her avoid the thing. The princess' hands were splayed along the floor, tendrils of golden locks jostled out of place as she kept alert to the queen's every move.
Regina rushed towards Emma, a ball of flame forming in her palm. She flung it at her opponent, the fire crackling as it spun hellishly. Without warning, the pyre was blocked by a flying object: a ragged, fuzzy plaything that had been discarded during their fray. The item exploded on impact, the two women shielding their eyes from the blast.
The queen twisted her head sharply, finding the source of the disruption. "Hook," she snarled, stunned by his presence. Always getting in the way. "How—"
"Startling, aren't I?" The Captain leered. "Some people would say, striking."
"You couldn't have survived that," the queen rejoined, certain the pirate had found his grave in the Pit of Despair.
"Well, you should know that one thing I excel at is surviving." He strolled towards them, glancing at Emma before fixing his gaze back on Regina. They were both disheveled and short-winded. "But please, don't stop on my account."
The Evil Queen smirked, her attention now focused on Hook. With a flick of her wrist, she propelled him against the wall, vines bursting through the rock to ensnare him. He grunted as the weeds tangled around him. He searched for Emma in the faded light, winking at her when he found her.
He's distracting her, she recognized. We do make quite the team.
Emma slammed her foot against the Evil Queen's waist, causing her to crash onto the floor. She cried out in shock, the vines loosening from the pirate's limbs. Her wedding dress ripped at the action, which drew little reaction from the princess. She attacked Regina a third time, slapping the Evil Queen's cheek.
Her lip blooded, Regina rose from the ground with a great fury. She pulled on Emma's hair, tilting the fair-haired woman's neck at a dire angle. At lightning speed, the queen punctured through the princess' bosom and clutched at her heart.
"No!" Hook screamed, deep blue eyes swelling as he witnessed the woman he loved doomed to face the same fate as his former partner.
"Foolish girl," growled Regina, relishing in Emma's torment. "Don't you know? Love is weakness." The queen motioned to extract her heart, but was unsuccessful. She drew her arm back, trying to free her hand from Emma's bust. All attempts were futile, and the princess' discomfort was steadily diminishing.
"No," Emma gasped, astonished to find she was immune to the queen's maneuver. She looked to Hook for a second, seeing relief and confusion pouring out of him. "It's strength."
Suddenly, an intense flare of white beacon spread out from Emma's body in all directions, engulfing both she and the Evil Queen. Regina was blown back, her shrieks echoing throughout the space. Groggy from the emitted flash, the Captain rushed to Emma's side.
"What was that?" she asked, Hook's hand roaming over her features in awe. It was a look he often gave her, she realized, ever impressed by her behaviors.
"That was magic, love. And quite a lot of it."
As he heard Regina's groans, the pirate stepped away from the princess momentarily. He bent down to the queen's level and grabbed her forearm, fastening the leather bracelet to her skin. She wrestled free from his grasp and gestured her hand in a way that indicated she intended to use her powers. But nothing happened.
"What did you—what is this?" The Evil Queen haphazardly removed the band from her wrist, her efforts to cast any form of spell failing. The enchantment was already activated.
"The damage is done, I'm afraid." The Captain left her there and returned to where Emma stood, lacing his fingers with hers. "It blocks magic, or so I was told. It seems the crocodile was actually good for something."
"Rumplestiltskin?" Emma inquired in a hushed tone. "When did you..."
"Long story, lass, one best saved for later." She marveled at his lightness, never fathoming that Hook could mention the Dark One absent his utter hatred. Much had happened during their separation.
Glimpsing back at Regina for the last time, Emma walked with the pirate to the nursery's balcony. Hook unsheathed his sword. "Shall I dispatch her for you?"
Emma shook her head. "Whatever happens to us, I want her to live a long life. Alone." He wordlessly gave his agreement to her brand of punishment. "Get me out of here," she remarked torpidly.
"As you wish," the Captain whispered. In that moment, she was amazed to discover that when Hook spoke, it was actually a profession of love. And even more amazing, she mused, was that Emma truly loved him in return.
She leaned into him, the moonlight from above illuminating his bruised and scratched face. Emma skidded the pads of her fingertips along his brow, then his chin, then his collarbone. The pirate almost shuddered at the contact as his sights fell to her mouth. She tentatively pressed her lips to his, finding them rough and dry. He tenderly stroked the nape of her neck, slanting his head to allow for better access while she entwined her fingers in his dark hair.
Their passionate scene was interrupted by the neighing of a steed from outside. Cheeks flushed and lipstick smeared, Emma arched over the balcony's edge, spying a number of white horses in the courtyard, lined all in a row. She counted five in total, her father mounted on the center stallion.
"Hey!" David called out, waving his arms. "There you are."
To his right was her mother, who appeared messy but content. Neal and Henry sat upon a single horse beside Snow's, the young boy giddily wielding the reigns. To David's right were two unaccompanied steeds, each saddled up and ready to go.
"We found the queen's stables," David elaborated. "Figured we find you both, together." He grumbled at the notion that the Captain and his daughter had become so intimate. "I don't think Regina will be needing them."
Peering down, Hook saw a flat, wooden trellis planted long the castle's outer wall. He anchored his leg over the side of the terrace, hand offered to the princess. "After you."
She graciously accepted him, beginning her descent. The fabric of her gown ripped along the thorny thatch but she climbed down easily enough. After encountering the massive beanstalk just a day before, this was no obstacle.
The pirate assisted Emma as she vaulted onto the horse, her father hugging her as soon as they were of equal heights. Hook stared at the display; it was a rare thing to witness such familial devotion. And it was strange: he had been craving revenge for so long. Now, feeling he could put his quest to an end, he didn't know what to do with himself. That's as it should be, he thought. A pirate thrives on the unexpected.
The Captain mounted his own horse warily, not having used this mode of travel in ages. Emma noticed his tension and patted his thigh in reassurance. "Looks like we have a ship to catch," she teased.
"Quite right, love." Hook raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. "We've much exploring to do," he flirted, his double meaning made very clear.
They all rode off, out of the yard and away from the Evil Queen's palace. "We'll get our home back," Snow muttered to her husband. There were more battles to be fought to secure the kingdom, but today signaled the turning point towards their triumph. With the queen defeated and her family safe, Snow was persistently optimistic.
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