OOC: Hey y'all! Sorry for the late update. I'm back to school now, which means more time for exams and less for the wonders of fanfiction. But I'll have a new one up within a week! Thankyou so much for making this a 10 000 hit story (that's a big deal for me) and keep on coming. Read and REVIEW my friends, it makes me smile all the time. Enjoy this!

Mary Margaret was unable to speak. What Henry had said; it made no sense at all yet made perfect sense. Looking at it realistically, there was no possible way. But nothing that had happened in the last few days, or really the past few months for that matter could've and should've been defined as realistic. Mary Margaret had slowly learned that anything was possible in StoryBrooke, so why not this? It was incredibly hard to accept though. The concept of not only having a child, but having that child with a man she was incredibly confused about as well as that child being the same age as her….it was difficult to process. Incredibly difficult. Mary Margaret knew neither what to say, nor what to even think about what Henry had just said.

"Ms. Blanchard?" she felt Henry's little hand tugging at the sleeve of her sweater. "Are you ok? You kind of went all quiet."

"I'm-I'm fine," Mary Margaret stammered, awakening herself from her daze of confusion. But was she really fine? She looked down at the little boy, surveying the look of worry plastered across his face. Then it dawned on her. If what Henry claimed was true, and Emma was somehow….then that made Henry…that made Henry her grandson. The thought of that seemed even more outrageous than the possibility of Emma being…of Emma being her daughter. Then again, everything seemed outrageous lately.

"You don't look fine," Henry said bluntly.

"No, really," Mary Margaret blinked several times. "I'm-I'm fine." She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart, but she was startled by a knock at the door. Mary Margaret's head snapped around, and there, standing in the doorway awkwardly, stood Emma.

"Are you ready to go Mary?" she asked, frowning.

Mary Margaret tried to speak, but her breath caught in her throat. She could see it, she really could. The shape of the chin. The furrowing of the eyebrows. Even the way Emma bit her lip nervously was something Mary Margaret had seen in herself before. And hot chocolate with cinnamon! How could she have forgotten that odd similarity! But still, Mary Margaret tried to cast those thoughts aside. She was hunting for similarities, hunting for reasons the prove Henry right. He probably (maybe? Potentially?) was wrong anyways. It made no sense! Right, she told herself, No sense at all.

"Um," Mary Margaret stammered slightly, finally finding the words to speak. "Yeah…yeah I'm ready." She felt her eyes wander back to Emma's face, searching for details.

"Ok," Emma said, absentmindedly rubbing her hands together. "Let's get going then."

"Can I come too?" Henry's little voice sounded

"No," Emma replied simply. "Your mother is going to be looking for you I'm sure."

"No she won't!" Henry beamed. "She's got a meeting."

Emma sighed, and looked up at the ceiling, as if asking for answers from above.

"Let him come Emma," Mary Margaret said softly. "There's no harm, and he seems to know best what's going on." What she really wanted though was not to be alone with Emma. Henry's revelation….she wasn't fully accepting of it, but it did make uncanny sense, and Mary Margaret felt uncomfortable just looking at Emma, let alone being alone with her. Henry would be a nice buffer between the two of them until Mary Margaret got her thoughts sorted out on what was going on.

"So long as I don't have to answer to her," Emma sighed and started out the door, motioning for Mary Margaret and Henry to follow. The drive was a short and quiet one. Emma seemed determinedly set on talking to Archie and getting answers, so she spent the entire time staring straight ahead and frowning. Henry was unusually silent in the back seat, but Mary Margaret heard the occasional rustle of pages and she knew he had pulled out that darn Storybook again. Probably researching more things to tell her about her apparent 'alter-self'. Mary Margaret herself, well she spent the majority of the ride calmly staring at her clasped hands, her thoughts ablaze. After what had happened last night on the Toll Bridge, she had really been starting to kind of mentally comprehend what was going on. By no means had she accepted it, but it seemed more and more possible. Then Henry just had to throw in the ultimate monkey wrench. Now Mary Margaret was even more confused than after that first vision in the snow. The problem this time was that she was so ready to believe. So ready to almost put her faith in some form of even the slightest bit of Henry's idea. But she wasn't sure if she wanted to believe in the fact that she had a child. Magic, dreams and fantasies were one thing, but actual living proof was something completely different.

"Are you sure you're ok Mary Margaret?" Emma's voice dripped with concern as the car pulled to a steady stop outside of Archie's office building.

"I'm fine," Mary Margaret sighed and attempted a weak smile, before getting out of the car. Within a few minutes, the three of them were poised outside of Archie's door, just as Mary Margaret had been the day before. If Henry's right, we make up three generations, she thought to herself and then cast that thought aside before raising her hand to knock.

The door opened quickly, revealing a very surprised looking Dr. Hopper. "Mary Margaret! Emma! Henry!" he smiled as he saw them, then his smile faltered as he seemed to remember something. With the slightest nudge he closed his door slightly. "What brings you here today?"

"There's something we need to talk about with you," Emma said bluntly.

"Oh, I'm very sorry but I can't right now!" Archie moved to close the door completely, but Mary Margaret suddenly shot her foot out to catch it.

"I know about Regina," she said softly, knowing from the man's eyes that he was experiencing immense guilt, and it hurt her to see him in such torment.

Archie sighed. "You have to understand! They were going to take away Pongo's medication!" He trailed off slightly and avoided their gazes.

"We do understand," Emma replied. "And we aren't here about that. We're just here to talk."

"Well if you insist," Archie sighed, though his guilt seemed to have faded a little with Emma's forgiveness. "Come on in, have a seat." He opened the door and the three of them filed into the familiar office. Henry immediately bounded in and settled into a large plush armchair, while Emma and Mary Margaret took opposite ends of the couch. As Archie settled himself down, he clapped his hands together.

"Well, what can I do for you?" he smiled.

Mary Margaret frowned slightly and then started tentatively. "Do you remember our conversation yesterday?"

"Why of course!" Archie tried to keep his smile, but Mary Margaret could see it falter.

"Have you-have you thought about it at all?" she replied softly.

Archie frowned. "Beside my call, which by the way I'm so very sorry for; I can't say that I have."

Mary Margaret shook her head in a slight gesture of forgiveness. "I understand," she said. "But do you think I'm crazy about what I was talking about yesterday? With not remembering anything, and seeing things and all that?" Her voice cracked slightly.

Archie's brow furrowed. "I don't think you're crazy," he answered hesitantly. "I think you're confused."

"I think we all are," Emma piped in. "There's a whole lot of confusion going down."

Mary Margaret sighed and put a hand to her face, rubbing her temples. Everything seemed to be a mess right then. She looked over at the plushy armchair where Henry was seated silently. He was looking intensely at the fireplace and seemed to be deep in thought. As Mary Margaret watched, a sense of realization seemed to dawn in the little boy's as he suddenly looked up. His gaze flashed between Archie and her.

"I've got it!" Henry exclaimed.

"What?" the other three in the room spoke simultaneously.

"Dr. Hopper," he looked over at Archie and then turned to Mary Margaret. "Ms. Blanchard. You two need to touch! Something about being in the moment and touching and….oh I don't know but you said that something happened with David when you two touched."

"Oh Henry," Mary Margaret sighed, her heart wrenching at the thought of David. "David's-David's different." She sighed.

"Just try!" his voice was pleading. "Maybe if he sees it himself, Dr. Hopper will believe!" With that he grabbed her hand and dragged it across the coffee table before grabbing Archie's and doing the same. "Think about what you were thinking about when the last visions happened. Snow! Look at the snow outside!" He was excited and there was a fire burning in his little eyes. Mary Margaret, despite her scepticism and apprehension about all that was going on, couldn't help but feel the urge to believe simply due to the young boy's passion. He was so passionate, so pure. He believed so whole-heartedly that good would win, and that all of this would sort itself out.

"Oh Henry," she sighed.

"Try it," he said blatantly, and fixed her with a pleading stare. Mary Margaret looked across the coffee table at Archie, who stared back with confusion in his eyes. Mary Margaret saw that as her own confusion, her own bewilderment. They all needed answers and maybe Henry was right. He seemed to be right about a lot of things. With yet another sighed, Mary Margaret extended her hand until it was almost touching Archie's and fixed her gaze on his. Almost reluctantly he stretched his fingers until they brushed against hers. Trying to follow Henry's advice, Mary Margaret stared past Archie at the snow covered window sill. Nothing happened. Not right away anyways. Then suddenly she was in another place.

Mary Margaret found herself seated at a large round table, with many familiar figures around her. At her side was David, adorned in royal garb as he had been before. Further along was the diner girl Ruby, a red cape on her shoulders along with the handyman Marco, friendly old Granny, grumpy Leroy and several others. It seemed that a large portion of the familiar faces from town were around there. Mary Margaret felt her hands fall to her stomach, and to her surprise it was swollen with pregnancy. That didn't stop her enthusiasm though. "Don't underestimate her power. She's capable of so much," Mary Margaret heard herself say with passion. "Ah, but Snow," a small voice sounded that Mary Margaret couldn't place. "No one is unconquerable. Good does stand a chance against evil."

With a start Mary Margaret flashed back into the real world, and felt Archie recoil away from her.

"What just happened?" his face widened in shock. "I mean there was this round table, and you were there, and a whole bunch of other people. And we were discussing something! And you, you were pregnant!" He looked utterly confused.

Mary Margaret felt her hands go instinctively to her flat stomach and she glanced over at Emma. Henry meanwhile was beaming with joy. "It's working!" he smiled. "Thing's are finally set in motion!"

"What do you mean Henry?" Archie asked, his face still utterly confused.

"The curse! You're starting to remember!" he explained. "Graham was remembering, and then he died. Then Ms. Blanchard started to, and David, and now you. Things are starting to happen! It's amazing isn't it?"

"Oh right, I remember you talking about the curse," Archie sighed. "But if it's ending, or whatever it is you claim, what's causing this?" Mary Margaret was surprised by his calm acceptance, and then she realized that this was his job. He dealt with Henry's theories every week, and had learned that acceptance was the best way to deal with him. Mary Margaret smiled to herself as she witnessed the bond between doctor and student. Then she once again remembered the crisis at hand.

"Well it's because my mom came back," Henry explained. "There was this prophecy that said that the child of Snow White and Prince Charming would return and break the curse. And since she came back, things have started happening!"

"But wait, wouldn't that make Mary Margaret…." Archie started and trailed off.

"My mother," Emma finished. Mary Margaret felt Emma's gaze lock upon her, and she instinctively cringed.