Emma found herself operating largely on auto pilot, tidying the bothy and stoking the fire. The sun was bright outside and Regina had taken Henry to forage for something to supplement their rations. She sighed and rubbed her forehead, disbelief robbing her of the ability to concentrate.

It didn't make a lick of sense. An evil queen, a curse, lost children… Giving Henry up and having him find her years later. Hurt and mistrust and anger… No love between them. She believed her, what was more. Regina wasn't lying, she believed what she was saying. However, just because she believed it didn't mean it was actually true. She knew her heart and it had been filled with her son and his mother for more than a decade. The feeling of safety and belonging she felt when she looked at them was real.

Liath groaned, waking briefly. Emma sighed and passed her a skin of water. The other woman blinked bleary eyes and thanked her. She accepted some food before passing out again and though Emma burned with questions, she let the other woman rest.

She stepped out into the watery sun, closing her eyes against the breeze. Birds called to one another and fluffy clouds scudded across the pale blue sky. She noticed Bran padding towards them her a limp body dangling from his mouth. Dark eyes soulful, he laid the hare beside her and loped off, presumably to find to his brother and Henry. She lifted the creature, a fine sized specimen, and retrieved a knife from her pack.

She set about skinning and dressing the hare, slow and careful in her movements. It had been a while, and she'd only skinned rabbits, but her deputy David had taught her well. She remembered him fondly for a moment, wondering how he and Mary Margaret were doing. She wasn't great with contacting her old friends, she'd admit. A bolt of sorrow lanced through her. She supposed that was probably because they weren't actually real.

Voices rang across the moor as Regina, Henry and Sceolta returned. Despite the turmoil in her chest, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of Henry and Regina. Their son bounded ahead, wielding a small cloth bundle with pride.

"We found some blackberries! And some sloes, but they're not too nice."

Regina spied the hare Emma had prepared, an eyebrow lifting. "I'm impressed, Emma. The sloes can be cooked into a sauce which complements game quite nicely, Henry. We'll eat well tonight."

"Oh, cool!", he chirped. "Can I go play with the dogs?" Emma didn't miss the way he turned to Regina for permission first, as he'd always done, and Emma felt her heart clench. She nodded and he scampered away. Regina sighed and turned to her, eyes dark and sad.

"What I told you earlier… It's a lot to take in."

Emma nodded, lifting the hare and skewering it on a few sticks she'd found. "It is." They sat in silence for a few moments, before Emma turned to her again. "I find the fact that we hated each other just… That's the thing I can't get my head around. I'll take all the rest but that? It's just so wrong."

Regina laughed, though there was little humour there. "Imagine how surprised I was to hear you thought us married."

Emma was quiet for a moment, studying the woman in front of her carefully. This wasn't a stranger, though their memories weren't the same, this was her wife. This was the woman she loved and the woman she'd built a life with. This was the mother of her son.

"You must have been really scared when I got there," she said, softly. "Because you thought you were going to lose Henry."

Regina didn't deny it, fiddling with the sloes. Emma chuckled. "And I bet I was an asshole."

She snorted at that. "You took a chain saw to my apple tree."

Emma's eyes widened. "Oh fuck me… Really?"

Regina glared at her. "Language!"

"I think hearing that I took a power tool to your most beloved plant warrants it!" Emma shook her head. "Anyway. I was an asshole. And I know how you get when I'm an asshole so I can only imagine things escalated quickly."

Regina frowned at her. "You don't know me, Emma," she said, with more sorrow than venom.

"Well, maybe not this exact you. But the essence of you? I know her. And I'd like to get to know this Regina, too because as stupid and as mushy as it sounds, there isn't ever going to be an Emma Swan who doesn't want to know Regina Mills." Regina flushed, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. "And that doesn't mean I expect to pick up our marriage, you know? Like, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, ever. I promise I won't touch you if it's unwelcome." She scratched her neck. "I've probably been a bit handsy…"

Regina shook her head. "You haven't made me uncomfortable, but I don't… We're not on the same page with regard our relationship. I don't feel that way towards you and I know the Emma I remember didn't feel that way either." She lifted haunted eyes and Emma let the fact that her lie detector was screaming at her go unremarked. "This spell, these memories went wrong. You weren't supposed to remember me."

Emma nodded, seeing the distress building in the other woman and decided to let things settle for the moment. Regina was terrified. "OK. Well, look. We have this quest, right? I have to save my little sibling, as weird as that whole concept is. Let's focus on that."

Regina nodded, biting her lip. Emma shook her head and sighed. "And there's Henry. Even if you don't have feelings for me, you're the mother of my son. That makes us family, no matter what else."

Regina hugged herself tighter and Emma ached to hold her, to offer the comfort she obviously needed. "And family looks after each other, in whatever way they can. That doesn't change."

The woman in front of her ducked her head to hide the emotion welling in her eyes. "When did you get so…"

She trailed off and Emma grinned. "Your good influence, I guess."

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The decision to tell Henry should have been harder, but in the end it wasn't. She remembered his hurt at the lying from before, the cold rage in his eyes. No matter what else, she didn't want any more dishonesty between them. She flicked nervous eyes to Emma, who smiled reassuringly.

"Kid," Emma said as they finished dinner. "We need to talk."

Henry frowned, his quick gaze bouncing between them. "OK?"

Regina threw the scraps from her bowl into the fire, reaching for the others as well. The three of them were huddled around the grate, listening to the wind gather itself into a gale. The windows shuddered and they'd had to block the gap under the door with a blanket.

Regina sat straight backed, as her mother had taught her. Henry gazed up at her, his little face so trusting and sure. She would have traded anything for even another day of this. Another day of enjoying his unfettered love but knew he needed to know, if anything lasting was to be built between them.

"Henry," she began, "I know you think that I don't remember, but it isn't as simple as that. Your mother and I want to tell you the truth, because you need to hear it now." His little brow creased and she sighed, her heart like a stone in her chest.

"You know the story of Snow White and the Evil Queen, correct?"

Henry nodded. "The evil queen poisoned the princess with an apple but true love's kiss broke the spell."

Regina felt herself sigh. "It wasn't quite like that, dear. But yes. The evil queen cursed Snow White and all the inhabitants of her realm. They were taken to a land without magic, where they'd never know their happy endings."

Henry frowned, flicking his eyes to Emma.

"But just as the curse was cast, Snow White put her daughter in a magic wardrobe and she was transported to that land, beyond the curse. She was the saviour. The one person who could break the curse. But she was alone, and she had a hard life." She swallowed, her throat burning. Henry's face was pale and Emma's indecipherable.

"She had a little boy, who she gave up for adoption. Because she loved him very, very much and wanted him to have a good life. And by the machinations of a wicked man, that little baby was adopted by the evil queen."

She closed her eyes, feeling the burning there. "She loved him so much, but she lied to him. He wasn't of the magical kingdom and the curse didn't capture him. So when he started noticing things weren't right, his mother lied to him. She drove him away and he found his birth mother, and brought her to town."

A hand clasped hers and she looked down, vision blurred by tears as she met Henry's gaze. "The saviour broke the curse and saved the town. And things weren't easy. In fact," here she laughed bitterly, "they were horrible. Her son hated her. And after a lot of misadventures, a very evil little weasel tried to cast the curse again. The only way the evil queen could find to protect her son," she paused, fighting tears down, "was to undo the curse altogether. Which would mean he would never remember Storybrooke or his mother or anything else to do with magic."

"I know it sounds crazy, Hen," Emma said, softly, "I still don't know if I believe it, really. I mean, I'm no saviour and your mom is no evil queen."

Regina shook her head, clenching her jaw. "Which just shows how thoroughly you've forgotten everything."

Henry's eyes were bright with tears, but also with thought. He frowned. "But we do remember, mom."

Regina wiped her eyes. "I tried to give you both a gift. A gift of happy memories, a good life. I don't know why you remember me, you weren't meant to. And certainly, you shouldn't have had to suffer the death of your mother, Henry."

He was quiet for a moment.

"Do you think the mom I remember knew this stuff?"

Regina shook her head. "No. Whatever created that version of her placed her in the mundane world." She could sense what he was really asking. "She wasn't keeping secrets, dear."

She ducked her head. "She wasn't real, but I know she feels as real to you as my past does to me. But she isn't and it's dangerous for you two to think she is. I'm not a good person." Her voice cracked but she ploughed on. "I'm selfish and mean and I hurt people." Her voice failed her entirely and she looked away from them, taking a long moment to gather herself.

"I'm not much loved in this world, and many people would be delighted to see me dead. The next little while might be difficult, Henry, but remember that I love you so, so much."

Henry was quiet, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Well, even if you say the mom I remember isn't real, you made her. Or maybe I made her?" he turned to Emma. "Or we all made her."

He reached out and took their hands, one each. The wind had picked up pace outside and he shivered in the draught. Emma scooted closer to him, sheltering him a bit. "Even if you were mean, you're still my mom. I bet I had a lot of happy memories with you." He laughed a little. "Did I grow up in Storybrooke?"

"Yes," Regina replied, disentangling her hand for a moment to spread her cloak over the three of them. Part of her huffed that there wasn't an easy way to avoid involving Emma, but the larger part of her was too tired to fight. Henry didn't hesitate to take her hand again.

"Did we go to the library on Sundays, then the duck pond?"

Regina felt a smile crease her face. "From you were old enough to focus on a book. We went to story time, then later you chose your own books."

He was quiet for a moment. "And did we go to granny's after?"

She chuckled, her heart raw. "We did. But only if you behaved." She watched the vivid orange glow of the turf, gentle flames wavering in the hearth. The ash was piling at the edges of the fireplace, powdery and falling down onto the hearth stones.

"That was my favourite thing to do," he replied, quietly. "The only difference is I remember ma being there. But not every time, some weekends she had to work. So, like, when you gave me happy memories, maybe something knew you had to be there for them to actually be good."

Her throat tightened and she felt tears welling again, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She clenched her teeth against the wild, desperate anguish she felt. Anguish knowing she didn't deserve any of this; that she didn't really know how to love at all. She knew jealously and possessiveness and how to cling and manipulate. It was all a lie.

She knew, with complete certainty, that when she restored their memories, they'd both hate her again. That all talk of family and love would cease. She'd be cast out, no use after they saved the infant. She swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. Henry leaned up, wrapping a small arm around her shoulders and pressing against her.

"And you brought us here to help Snow White, right? To save her baby. Why?"

She looked up into his eyes, so trusting and calm, certain of her in a way he hadn't been for such a long time. She bit her lip and he smiled crookedly, Emma's cheeky grin on his face.

"Because you're one of the good guys now?"

She couldn't speak, couldn't find the words to explain that she really wasn't. She might have been helping Snow, but she wasn't good. She was rotten, though and through. Emma tapped Henry's chest fondly, smiling at both of them with such acceptance and love that Regina wanted to fling herself through the door. Didn't they realise? Couldn't Emma, with her damned lie detector, tell the truth of the matter?

"We should sleep," she whispered, not meeting their eyes. The three of them readied themselves for bed, quietly and without fuss. They returned to their positions from the previous night and Henry lay on his side, facing her. "Goodnight mom, love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered hoarsely.

"Goodnight ma," he yawned. "Love you."

"Love you, kid," Emma sighed, kissing the back of his messy head. "Go to sleep."

Regina nodded and he closed his eyes, drifting off more quickly than she expected. His breathing evened out and he relaxed, his limbs loose and heavy. Regina gazed at him, trying once more to exist in the moment, to enjoy being close to him while she still could. It was only a matter of time until the other shoe dropped, after all.

After a while, she sensed she was being watched. Emma's eyes reflected the firelight, sparkling in the flames. A line creased between her eyebrows and her mouth was tight.

"We don't have to go there, Regina," she said, quietly. "You don't owe them a thing. We could ask Liath to take us back to New York and get back to our lives."

Regina shook her head, her voice a rough whisper. "Part of me wants to. This world is dangerous and I have a lot of enemies. In fact the only reason I ever agreed to bringing the two of you back was…"

Emma smiled. "Because it was the right thing to do?"

Regina snorted. "No. But it was less awful than the alternative and I thought it was more or less impossible. I promised Snow I'd try but I don't think I really expected to succeed."

The other woman laughed softly at the admission. "Oh my god… Keep saying things like that and I'll never believe that you're not actually the woman I married."

She frowned, unsure what to make of that. "I don't think blatant manipulation should be lauded."

Emma shrugged. "Diplomacy should. Keeping the peace when the people in charge are stupid should."

She was intrigued, but tired. She stifled a yawn and Emma smiled fondly at her. "OK, time for sleep. But I mean it, Regina. If you want, we end this. You come home with us, where you belong."

She closed her eyes against the wave of longing that rose in her. She clenched her teeth and shook her head.

"No, Emma. That can't happen." She opened her eyes, glaring harshly at the sparkling, dancing eyes across from her. "Now, go to sleep."

Emma quirked an eyebrow, then shut her eyes. But she bore a strange, soft smile that worried Regina enormously. She'd seen it every time she'd tried to assert herself, or more honestly, throw her weight around. She had no clue what it was, but she knew it was probably extremely dangerous.

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Regina was a complex woman. Emma knew this and she didn't think that different memories or magic or crossing worlds would alter that fact. She was someone who felt deeply, strongly and without care for her own heart. She was capable of incredible love and devotion and also spectacular callowness. She had a mean streak that Emma rarely suffered but often heard roared about its intended targets. That said, overall she was a warm, loving and decent person. If she could be a bit black and white when it came to people, that was part of her.

You didn't go through a decade of living together and raising a child without learning a lot about each other and you certainly didn't spend several thousand dollars on couples counseling without learning how to work well together and recognise each others rough edges. The fact that her memories weren't, technically speaking, real seemed of little consequence at present. They were the only memories she had and they felt completely real to her.

Besides, figuring out what was real or not didn't feel like their most pressing issue. Regina had suffered enormously. Dark smudges beneath her eyes and the tension creasing her forehead all attested to the fact. She was thin, almost unhealthily so, lacking the lean muscle that years of horse riding had gifted her. Emma inhaled slowly, sorrow and compassion filling her. She longed to reach out and hold her, to soothe her in her arms and press gentle kisses to her face. But Regina was not in a place where physical contact seemed particularly welcome, unless it came from Henry.

Henry was snoring softly, his head tipped at a funny angle beneath Regina's chin as they pressed together. If she'd been cold or hesitant with him, it would have made it easier to differentiate the woman before her from the one she'd married. As it was, while she could see the strain and wounds of a lifetime of pain, she could also perceive the gentle soul beneath it. The truest essence of the woman she loved.

Her feelings hadn't changed in the slightest, though perhaps they should have. After all, was it really fair to Regina, to have to deal with unwelcome emotion? Emma bit her lip and pondered that for a while. She knew her own feelings wouldn't change, an entire year in New York mourning her wife had left them as strong as ever, but surely as long as she respected Regina's boundaries and didn't force any expectations on her, they'd figure things out.

That said, she wouldn't exactly be averse to maybe reminding Regina of some of the reasons they'd worked so well. She knew Regina possessed both enormous capacity and desire for love. The woman cuddled desperately around their son seemed pretty starved for affection, if she were honest.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of peat smoke and her family and let it lull her to sleep. She loved Regina, and that wasn't about to change anytime soon. She'd find the balance between expressing that and giving Regina space, though it'd be damned difficult.

And, she admitted to herself, if they found that love again, rekindled what they'd shared, she wouldn't be complaining.

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