Hook and Cora admired their handiwork. Cora was exceptionally proud of the fact that she'd managed to convince those dim-witted townsfolk that her daughter was behind the Bug's murder.

Regina would be adequately broken now. Her will would be stretched wafer thin, her resolve would be tarnished and without a doubt; she'd make her way back into her daughter's life with far less resistance than she'd feared when the prospect of a land without magic, had been on the cards.

"What do you expect to get out of him?" Hook questioned, leaning over the opening in the cabin compartment, peering at the man tied up in the bowels of his ship. He didn't question how Cora had gotten the man there or how she'd convinced the people of the town that this man was dead – he hadn't really cared who she'd killed instead, when he'd asked - the moment they'd discovered Magic alive and well in Storybrooke, he'd known his chances of getting away from her unscathed were nil; he was going to make the most of the alliance before committing himself to a rivalry he wasn't ready to face.

Better to turn on Cora when he knew he had a solid ally. There was absolutely no sense in burning that bridge if he didn't have his foot in another boat. Suicide wasn't his forte.

"He's going to tell us all about the people of Storybrooke," Cora crooned, reaching down to pull the cloth gag from Archie's mouth. "Starting with my daughter."

"I don't know anything." Archie spat.

"Oh I think you do," Cora's smile made both men nervous, Archie more obviously than Hook. "Because I have this; what did you call it? File? Here with Regina's name on it." She smirked. "Safe to assume it's full of her darkest secrets, no?"

"Her secrets aren't so dark." Archie whispered forlornly and Cora's head tilted to the side.

"Ooh," She mocked. "Have you come to care about her, Cricket?"

"I don't want you to hurt her, if that's what you mean."

"I'm not going to hurt her; I'm going to help her."

Hook watched Cora out of the corner of his eye. He knew she wasn't being entirely truthful. He wasn't the most honest man, it went with being a pirate and he wasn't the kind to throw stones from the inside of glass-houses; but the way Cora seemed to want to reel her daughter in and play her like some sort of puppet, unnerved him.

He was all for getting what he needed from people, but using your own child the way Cora intended too, scratched at Hook's shaky morality.

Mother of the year, indeed.

"If you were really here to help her, you wouldn't be trying to undermine her."

Hook had to give the woman some credit; she was incredibly patient. She didn't seem to care how long it took her to make her way to Storybrooke or what kind of means or obstacles were standing in her way. He wished for a moment that he had her patience; that all this manipulating and conspiring wasn't making him itchy in his boots.

The Crocodile was less than a mile away and if Hook had his way, he'd have him skinned by tea-time. He was frustrated and he had the nagging feeling that Cora – that diabolical, bloody woman – was entirely aware of that fact.

She didn't care and he didn't envy Regina.

"I merely want to understand her life here, before I show myself to her. I want to see what her life has been like in this world. Please, Cricket, my daughter needs me."

Archie rolled his eyes, tugging at his bonds as though – for the twelfth time - they'd actually give way; they didn't. "She doesn't need you," Archie ground through his teeth. "I think the last thing Regina needs right now, is another selfish, controlling presence in her life." He sighed. "That woman has been through enough. Can't you just let her see if she can do this alone?"

"She doesn't want to be alone, not now." Hook had been admiring Cora's patience, but he could see that it was wearing thin. "This is exactly the kind of time a girl needs her mother."

"She raised Henry without you," Archie narrowed his eyes at her. "...and all the better for him; she can raise this child without you as well."

Cora stood up straight, eyes wide. "My daughter's," She breathed out with a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "...pregnant?"

Hook studied her face, then the Cricket, then Cora again. "Nice one, Cricket, she didn't know about that."

Cora spun on the pirate, angrily. "You did?"

He shrugged his shoulders, expressing the air of a man entirely unruffled by the woman's bubbling anger and the fear that she could, literally, squash him like a bug. "I had an inkling."

Archie studied the pair of them carefully. Cora's expression had changed to one of a barely contained rage, whilst Hook seemed almost genuinely disappointed that Regina's secret was suddenly so clear between them all. He wanted to kick himself for telling her; feeling as stupid as he'd ever felt for assuming Cora was already aware. He figured that's what she'd meant by Regina needing her. He was a fool and he only hoped Regina could find a way to escape this woman's viperous grasp and then somehow find it in herself to forgive him.

She'd been working so hard and he knew that the strength was inside her. He also knew that Cora's power over Regina was strong and she was going to need far more than her own will to protect herself.

It was going to take the whole town to stop her and he needed to convince them that standing up with Regina was the only thing that would save them all.

David breathed heavily. He couldn't believe what they'd just seen. He stumbled out of Gold's shop, gasping for air. He'd felt Snow's eyes at his back and he'd seen the way she'd turned her eyes away from the Dreamcatcher, terrified of what they'd just seen. He hadn't been entirely sure if it was just the image of Archie's death that had shaken her or the image of Regina's evil first hand.

He knew there was a part of her that still looked to Regina as her mother, and that part of her was the reason everything Regina did to anyone was so personal to her. She felt as though somehow, it was her fault. Not just that Regina blamed her but that she feared Regina was right to do so.

"It can't be true." He muttered to himself, pacing back and forth outside the shop, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. He racked his brain for a reason the image could be false. He tried to think of ways Gold could have manipulated it, even though it was Emma that ultimately made it work.

Maybe he'd spelled it to show them what they'd most feared.

They all had their own reasons for wanting Regina to be innocent. Emma's was Henry, His was their baby and Snow's...he sighed, watching his wife through the window as she stared at her toes; Snow's reason was how much she could never admit that she still loved Regina. He knew it and he understood it. He'd seen it every time Regina had broken her heart – he'd seen that hope and that pain. She never stopped wanting Regina to be the woman that had saved her from the horse.

David took in a deep breath; he knew that Regina couldn't be that woman again, but she'd been working so hard to be something so very close.

He wasn't going to let them take that away from her. He may have seen it with his own eyes, but something deep inside of him – something he couldn't place or name – was telling him not to believe it.

Maybe Snow was right and he was biased, he wanted to say it was the love he held for their child – because even though he tried to deny that he cared for Regina, or feared to extend that care to love – but he knew it wasn't just that. He knew there was something more there; something he knew he wasn't strong enough to cast away.

He caught Snow's eye through the window and the guilt ate at him until tears stung his eyes – he'd never wanted this. He had to tear his eyes away, looking down at his shoes, knowing that the choices he made over the next few hours were going to change their lives forever.

He didn't want to hurt Snow, but if it was a choice between breaking a heart and saving a life – as painful as it was – he knew what had to be done.

To Be Continued.