A/N: No, still don't own Once Upon a Time. If I did, I'd be writing episodes, not writing fanfiction and working two jobs.
Coming up: Gold goes off on his own for a bit (uh-oh!), Emma catches Regina doing something she shouldn't, and Belle gets some surprising information from the imprisoned Alex.
Emma pushed herself up on her elbows, staring at the patch of ground where the hellhound had disappeared.
"D'you think it can come back?" she asked, and Regina shook her head.
"It was summoned," she said. "My guess is by Pan. I suppose he'll try something else next." She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "We should get some rest while we can. There's not telling which direction the others are in, and we don't have the strength to go after them now."
Emma agreed, and got to her feet wearily.
"Can you summon our things?" she asked, and Regina frowned, gesturing with her hands. Their packs, including food and blankets, appeared next to them, but the effort seemed to make Regina wilt. She spread out her blankets and lay down, falling asleep almost immediately. Emma prepared her own bed, but lay awake for a while, looking up at the stars through the canopy of the forest. We're coming, Henry, she thought as she drifted off. Hang in there, kid.
Henry woke with a start as Kerby marched into their small camp, dousing the fire and scrubbing at the ashes with her feet.
"We have to go," she said abruptly, as he sat up.
"But it's night," he ventured, and she nodded grimly, feeling at a braided leather cord around her neck as if to check that it was still there.
"It's safe enough," she said, packing away their few things in a satchel.
"What's the hurry all of a sudden?" he asked nervously, uncomfortable with the way she wasn't really looking at him. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Don't worry, you'll be safe with me," she said, and held out a hand to pull him up. "The camp isn't far, and maybe your family is already there."
Unsure, but attempting to hide his fears, Henry followed her out of the campsite and up the hill to the north. They walked for half an hour before they reached the crest of the hill, by which time Henry was breathing heavily.
"It's just over this ridge," said Kerby, turning to him. He wondered why she looked so sad. "I'm sorry, Henry."
"What do you mean?" he asked, perplexed. "You brought me to my family, didn't you?"
"She brought you to me," came an unfamiliar voice, and Henry started as a boy appeared from behind a tree, dressed in green and brown. He looked to be in his late teens, but there was something behind his eyes that Henry didn't like, a darkness. He took a step back.
"Hello, Henry," said the boy, with a smile that was somehow cold. "I'm Peter Pan. Welcome to Neverland. I think you'll be very happy here."
"Where – where's my family?" asked Henry anxiously, and Pan smiled.
"They're not here just yet," he admitted. "But I have a feeling they'll be with us very soon. Come. Let's get you something hot to eat and drink."
Still not trusting him, but unsure as to what his next move should be, Henry started to walk down the ridge where Pan pointed, and Kerby followed the two of them down. It was a short walk to the Lost Boys' camp, and Henry was amazed at the wooden shelters built into the trees and surrounding the large clearing. At one end was a series of small caves scooped out of the hillside, with lattice-work doors of branches and rope, like cages. Henry wondered curiously what could be in them. Several of the Lost Boys had gathered around the three of them, and Pan was about to make introductions when Kerby turned to him.
"I brought him to you," she said, and there was a note of pleading in her voice. "I did what you asked. Please." Now she was really begging. "Please let me go."
Pan stroked his chin, as though he were seriously considering her request.
"You did bring him to me," he admitted, and hope shone in her eyes. He gave a humourless laugh, then, and she looked crushed. "In your own time, I might add. I know for a fact that you've been hiding him from me the past few days. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" His eyes were flashing with anger now, and she backed away. "Did you think I would let you get away with that?" He pursued her, making her stumble and almost fall, before he stopped abruptly.
"Please," she begged again. "He just wants to get back to his family. I could understand that, I could…" She cut off as he raised a hand to silence her.
"You've had your chance," he said curtly. "I don't react well to betrayal." Before she could react, he snatched at the cord around her neck. Henry cried out, but Pan tugged the cord out from beneath her tunic to reveal a tiny bottle hanging from it. With another sharp tug he snapped the cord, before pushing Kerby backwards into a waiting cave. Several of the Lost Boys hurried to lift one of the lattice-work doors into place across the entrance, binding it shut with rope. Pan strode forward slowly, looking down his nose at her as she wept, hands clinging to the bars.
"See how you do with no magic," he said venomously, dangling the bottle on its cord just out of her reach.
"I trust you have no objections to me bedding down here for the night?" asked Hook, as he crossed over the river behind Gold. The other man shrugged.
"None at all. Do you have any idea where the others are?"
Hook pulled a face. "I could probably make it back to the Prince and his lovely wife, but I have no idea where Emma went."
"Then I suggest we let them find us," said Gold, smiling to himself as he had an inkling of what he could expect from that night. It would be a long one, but he'd never been one for sleeping much. "Let's get a fire going."
He and Hook collected firewood, while Lily busied herself at the river's edge, sticking her arm into the calm waters protected by overhanging banks, out of the fast-flowing stream. She tickled three trout up onto the bank with ease, before moving further upstream to find two more. Hook watched interestedly, but couldn't learn the trick, the fish darting away from his questing fingers whenever he tried.
"That should do it," announced Gold, looking towards the top of the ridge across from them. Sure enough, two figures were stumbling along, hand in hand.
"Thank goodness!" Mary Margaret cried, enveloping Lily in a hug.
"Or me," said Gold dryly, stepping backwards before she could hug him, too.
David shook his hand, which was a surprise, then Hook's (an even bigger surprise), and ruffled Lily's hair, to her obvious disgust.
"Where's Emma?" he asked, and was answered with shrugs.
"She'll be fine, David," said Mary Margaret, sounding as though she had said this many times before. "She and Regina will be as tired as we are. We can meet up again in the morning."
Hook started cleaning the fish for their meal, as the two newcomers sat down with soft groans of relief. Mary Margaret started rubbing the muscles of her legs wearily.
"It's been a while since I got that much exercise," she admitted. "I think I was probably much fitter as a bandit than as a schoolteacher."
"Are we safe here?" asked David, and Gold nodded, leaning back against a tree.
"I've cast wards around the clearing," he said. "Anything that tries to get past them will alert us. You can relax."
"What about the fire?" asked Hook, stretching luxuriously, his leather trousers creaking. "No more devil-dogs?"
Gold frowned, pondering. "A summoning spell," he said. "Pan knows better than to open the door to the underworld twice in one night. It can have unforeseen consequences. You never know what else might step through. Corpse-dwellers, flesh-eating demons, soul-suckers…"
"How comforting, and just before we go to sleep," said Hook cheerfully, spitting the fish on peeled twigs to hang above the flames. "I'm surprised they call you the Dark One, really. You're always such a ray of sunshine."
Gold scowled as Lily stifled a giggle.
Having eaten their fill, the five comrades settled down for what remained of the night. Gold allowed himself a couple of hours of sleep, before waking himself as dawn was approaching. He listened to the even breathing from Mary Margaret and Lily, and the soft snores from David and Hook, and knew they would not wake for some time. He eased himself to his feet, moving as quietly as he could, and snuck away from the fire, skirting the trees to the east and striding towards a small hill with a stone outcrop jutting across the river. He crested the hill and made his way down into a hollow, whereupon he folded his hands in front of his body and waited. After five minutes or so, there were rustles in the undergrowth, and a group of teenage boys approached, weapons at the ready, pointing at his chest.
"Ah, just as I suspected," said Gold softly, a small smile twisting his mouth as he swept his hand out in an extravagant gesture. "The cannon fodder."
The Lost Boys shuffled their feet, widening their stance and gripping their weapons.
"We do not fear you, Dark One," said one of them tonelessly, and Gold sniffed.
"Then you're even stupider than I gave you credit for," he said dismissively. "Has your illustrious leader explained what's likely to happen to you in this little encounter?"
A second, taller boy stepped forward, dark hair falling over a thin, dirty face with the same empty eyes all the Lost had. Gold wondered what it was that Pan had done to them. The boy raised his spear and smiled slightly.
"If you make a move against us, he will kill the boy," he intoned.
"No, he won't," said Gold scornfully. "He hasn't plotted for hundreds of years, manipulated hundreds of people and brought Henry all the way here to kill him. Believe me, I know a little about playing the long game." He bared his teeth in a semblance of a grin. "Try again."
"You'll have to kill each and every one of us to get to him," warned the boy, and Gold's smile widened.
"Well, that's just a bonus."
The Lost Boy straightened, grip tightening on his weapon. "I think you will die a thousand deaths before Pan lets you take his prize," he said. "What do you think?" He moved quicker than Gold had thought possible, lunging with his spear at Gold's chest, but Gold moved his hand slightly and the spear crumbled into dust before it had even pierced the leather of his coat. The boy looked shaken. The others appeared unmoved. Gold smiled, his eyes gleaming darkly.
"What do I think?" he asked, taking a slow step forward. "I think you've got guts." He leant towards the boy with a leer. "Why don't I rip you open and take a look at them?"
The boy took a step backwards, but his comrades crowded around behind him, shoulder to shoulder. Gold glanced from one empty face to another. He smiled thinly. Six. So be it.
Alex stumbled into the sheriff's station with his hands on his head, nervously eyeing Granny's crossbow as he did so. Belle had telephoned Leroy to let him know what was going on, and the acting sheriff was standing by the desk with the keys to the cells in his hand, glaring.
"Get in there," he growled, jerking his head at one of the cells. "And no funny business. I've got my eye on you, buddy."
Alex walked meekly into the cell and sat quietly on the cot while Leroy locked the door. Belle, Ruby, Granny and Mother Superior turned to one another.
"I can't do this now," said Ruby tiredly, and Belle squeezed her arm comfortingly. Ruby looked as though she was about to cry. "I need a decent night's sleep before I even consider thinking about what I've done."
"It wasn't your fault!" insisted Belle, and Ruby gave a humourless laugh.
"No, perhaps not," she admitted. "But I should have known. Every single relationship I have is ruined. Every time I think I've met a decent guy I either screw it up myself or someone does it for me. I can't take any more right now." She brushed off Belle's arm and walked dejectedly from the room, Granny bustling after her like a mother hen. Belle sighed and looked at Mother Superior.
"I'll sit with him," she said. "I think he'll talk to me, and there are some things I want to explain to him."
The fairy nodded. "Call if you need us," was all she said, before leaving Belle alone with Alex and a glowering Leroy.
"Leroy, could you please fetch us some coffees and doughnuts from Granny's?" she asked, smiling tiredly at him. "I think it's gonna be a long night."
"You'll be okay alone with him?" asked Leroy, glaring at the prisoner as though he could somehow break through the bars of the cell. Belle nodded, and he grunted something and went out. Belle sat down on the bench next to the cell. Alex was looking at his hands, plucking nervously at the skin of his knuckles. He eventually met her eyes, and flinched at her expression.
"Why did you do it?" she asked softly, and he swallowed hard.
"I didn't mean to hurt Ruby," he said hastily. "I care about her, I really do, it's just…they told me to get information or I'd lose my job. And I wanted to see magic, see if it was real – I saw the footage Mendell shot but it just seemed impossible that such things could be genuine. I wanted to see for myself. All I was supposed to be doing was reconnaissance, and then that guy wanted to drive me out, or kill me, whatever, and I got scared. When Ruby turned up – she was kind of wild – and, like I said, I care about her." He stood up, clutching at the bars and gazing at her pleadingly. "Please, Belle, I don't even understand what's going on here! I can't understand, if there is magic, why it's here, and not everywhere else."
"You hate magic," she said slowly, watching his expression, and his eyes widened, a look of puzzlement on his face.
"No," he said. "I think it's fascinating. I mean, all my colleagues hated it. I was supposed to hate it. The whole reason for the Home Office's existence was to wipe it out, but I think that if there's something in the world that can do these amazing things, it shouldn't be destroyed. It should be studied. Imagine what we could do with it, if it was all across the earth."
Belle eyed him curiously. "You work there for the knowledge, don't you? It's not an idealism thing."
He nodded eagerly. "I've been researching stuff like this for years, so when they took me on, I thought I'd be finding out about all kinds of secret stuff that the Government wants to hide. Now I'm here…I'm not entirely sure where 'here' is anymore. Everyone's – weird – about stuff in this town."
Belle pondered her next move, weighing up her conflicting feelings. On the one hand, she knew it was dangerous to let him know too much, that he was the enemy. On the other, she relied on her sense about people, and that was telling her that he could be useful. She made her decision.
"You'd better make yourself comfortable," she said. "I'm going to tell you how Storybrooke came to be here."
Henry finished eating the meat he had been given (he thought it was possibly squirrel, but it was tasty enough) and licked the juice from his fingers. After introducing him to several of the Lost Boys, Pan had disappeared, and Henry had been encouraged to eat some food and find himself a bed in amongst the huts and treehouses that made up the camp. He had elected to sleep in a hut near the hillside, where it was both sheltered and close to the little caves, one of which Kerby had been trapped in. Having been largely left to his own devices, Henry got to his feet and sneaked over to her. He saw with surprise that she had her back to the entrance and was kneeling up, her tunic in a pile beside her on the floor. He could hear the splashing of water and assumed she was washing. At least they gave her water for that, he thought. He eyed her skin curiously. There were two long, raised welts on her back, where her shoulder blades were, and his brow crinkled in confusion.
"What happened to you?" he asked, and she jumped in fright, covering herself before turning her face to see him.
"Hi Henry," she said despondently.
"What's wrong with your back?" he asked persistently. "It looks – like fresh scars."
She looked devastated, and made to turn away. A flash of inspiration came to him.
"You had wings!" he said, in a loud, carrying whisper, and a spasm of pain in her face convinced him he was right. "You're a fairy! That's what Pan took from you, you had fairy dust in that bottle around your neck!"
She sighed, and pulled her tunic back over her head, standing up and turning to face him properly.
"He's taken everything from me!" she said bitterly. "When I met him I thought he was an ordinary boy. I thought he was hurt, but he was pretending. When I went to help him he showed me what he really was." She shuddered at the memory, folding her arms across her chest as though she was trying to keep away the cold. "He tore off my wings and took my wand before I could react. He told me that if I served him for a year and a day, he'd give them back. That was months ago." She hung her head. "I don't think he has any intention of letting me go, not now."
"But you have magic," protested Henry, clinging to the wooden bars of her cage, and she barked a rueful laugh.
"I had some fairy dust," she corrected him. "I could do small spells, like the one that hid you from him. I can channel magic through objects, like a talisman he gave me. I can't do any of the things I used to do standing on my head. And now he's taken my fairy dust, I'm as useless as any human."
Henry leant in close to her, dropping his voice to a whisper. "What if I get back your fairy dust. Could you get out of the cage?"
She pulled a face. "Henry, if you get that fairy dust, you should save yourself. There's nothing left for me. My wings…it was a fool's hope, nothing more. I know he can't give them back to me." She hung her head with a sigh, and he grasped her hand through the bars.
"Maybe not," he said urgently. "But my moms are both coming here, and they have magic. I bet they can help you."
"You have such faith in this family of yours," she said cynically, her eyes weary. "What makes you think they're even on the island? Pan was probably lying."
Henry grinned. "Because we always find each other," he said confidently. "I need you to trust me. I need you to believe in me."
"Why?" she asked tiredly, and he squeezed her hand.
"Because I believe in you, Kerby," he said sincerely. He dropped her hand, turning to go.
"Tinkerbell," she said loudly, and he span on his heel to face her. She was still looking tired and desperate, but fresh hope was beginning to shine in her eyes. "My name's Tinkerbell."
Henry grinned. "Yeah, I worked that one out. I just wanted you to remember."
"So Ruby is Little Red Riding Hood." Alex shook his head, taking a swig from his coffee cup. "Wow! I have to say she's way hotter than in the books I read as a kid."
Belle rolled her eyes, and he gave her an apologetic look.
"And the people that left," he continued, gesturing with what was left of his doughnut. "Who are they? Back in your world, I mean?"
"David Nolan is Prince Charming, Mary Margaret Blanchard is Snow White, and Emma Swan is their daughter." She grinned to herself as his mouth fell open and stayed there. "I know it's a lot to take in…"
He shrugged. "It's cool. No more outlandish than some of the theories I've read on crop circles and alien visitations." He took another drink. "Hey, Ruby said your boyfriend went."
"Yes." She felt a physical pain in her chest at the reminder. "Mr Gold."
"You call your boyfriend Mr Gold?" he asked, and she giggled.
"No, I call him Rumple," she said affectionately. "He's Rumplestiltskin." She noted his eyes widen. "He's the Dark One. I don't suppose that means anything to you, but back in our world, and here in Storybrooke, he's the most feared and powerful sorcerer in the land."
"And he's your – your…" He seemed unable to say it, but she nodded.
"He's my true love," she said simply.
"You're in love with the Dark One," he said slowly. "Is he – like – some sort of demon?"
"No!" she snapped, making him start. "He's a man. Immortal, powerful, and bloody irritating at times, but a man, nonetheless." She frowned thoughtfully. "Actually, I said 'bloody irritating' didn't I? I guess I didn't need to add the man part."
"No offence," said Alex hastily. "But you don't seem the type to go for the dark."
Belle smiled. "I know the man he really is. I know there's good in him. I have to believe that he won't give in to darkness."
Alex sat back, his mind reeling, and she watched him take in her words, digest them, and attempt to make sense of them. It was a lot for anyone to handle; she counted her blessings that he was open-minded. At last he looked up, and there was a tic beside his eye. He swallowed hard, as though something had just occurred to him.
"I don't understand why you've told me all this," he said nervously, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Not if you're planning on leaving me alive, anyway."
Belle sighed. "I have no intention of killing you, but I can't speak for everyone," she said gently. "However, if you make yourself useful, they're far less likely to call for your head."
He sat forward, interested. "What do you want from me?"
Belle watched him closely. "I need a way to cross over into Neverland," she said. "Do you have any idea how I might do that, and get back here with the others?"
"No," he said firmly, and she sighed, letting her head droop. She heard him grip the bars of his cell more tightly, his breathing quickening, and looked up. His eyes were gleaming with excitement and the light of a new challenge. "But I think I can find out."
Gold straightened, blood slick on his hands, coating his jacket and trousers. There were drops of it on his face, the sharp, metallic tang invading his nostrils, reminding him of days past, of who he used to be before the centuries had mellowed him, lessening the bloodlust, slaking his thirst for torture and death. The blood was beginning to dry, and he rubbed his hands together slowly, his fingers sticky with it, as he surveyed the dead and dying in front of him. None of them had told him anything willingly, so he had had to pull the information out of them, quite literally. He wondered whether some sort of magic had been used on them to make them brainless slaves. They hadn't had their hearts ripped out by anyone, he had already experimented with a couple of them to make sure. Holding the heart of one of them, he had obtained the information he needed before crushing it, and the two remaining had thrown themselves at him, weapons raised, clearly intent on a painful and messy death. The last had cursed fluently for a full five minutes before Gold had gotten bored and pulled out his tongue, followed by his kneecaps. He decided to let that one live, in case Pan came to find his henchmen, and moved his hands in a figure-eight pattern, cleansing himself of the blood. He lifted his hands up and looked them over with a satisfied smile. Back in the day, it had taken him a while to come up with a spell that even did under one's fingernails. Once more immaculate, and with the information he had wanted, he walked jauntily back to the camp.
Regina woke with a start, squinting in the cool dawn light filtering through the canopy. The forest was a pleasant, relaxing green, the whine of insects, calls of birds and rustlings of small creatures the only sounds to disturb the peace. She sat up, noting that Emma was still sleeping beside her, her arm thrown up above her head. Regina shivered; the early morning was cool, they had gone to sleep without eating the previous night and she was still tired. Her body needed sustenance and rest, neither of which was likely to come soon. She got to her feet and decided to fetch some water for a hot drink; she recalled Hook brewing a tasty tea from the leaves of one of the spindly bushes that ringed their tiny camp. She used a spell to find water, and it pointed off to her left, so she walked wearily in that direction. The small spell had further sapped her reserves of energy; she would need some serious rest before she could take on Pan and his cronies. She also felt dirty, and resolved to use magic to change her clothes as soon as she was sufficiently recovered. Hand held out in front of her with a small purple arrow balanced on her palm like a compass, she was concentrating on the path she was taking through the trees. She was therefore unprepared for stepping into a clearing with what looked like the aftermath of a battle; half a dozen bodies lay sprawled across the forest floor, covered in blood, some with their intestines trailing behind them. Regina curled her lip as she looked at the remains of the Lost Boys. Was this what Pan did to his followers? Perhaps they had disobeyed him, or tried to run away. Her sharp eyes picked out one that was still moving, his legs bent at unnatural angles. Anger lent her strength, and she flicked her hand, whisking him up into the air to dangle in front of her. His head lolled back, blood running from the corners of his mouth.
"I've so been looking forward to speaking with one of Pan's minions," she purred. Her eyes sparked with a dark light, her full lips curving upwards with a smile. "Tell me where my son is, and I can heal you. I can take this pain away. Wouldn't that be nice?"
The boy moaned slightly, and she felt her anger rising. They were not going to get away with this! They were not going to keep her from Henry. "I suggest you pull yourself together, dear," she said, in clipped tones, and looked askance at the disembowelled remains of his comrades. "And think yourself lucky you don't have to do it literally. Tell me where my son is, and I can make it all better."
The boy tipped his head forward, coughing, and Regina smiled in anticipation of his answer. His eyes were blank and dead, but he managed a slow smile, his teeth red with blood.
"He'll already be dead," he whispered, and Regina's eyes bulged in fear and anger. She shook him hard, blood flying from his mouth and nose. "Where. Is. My. Son?" she yelled, her eyes flashing with rage. "Did you think you could keep him from me? Did you think I wouldn't cross worlds to get him back?" The boy went limp in her arms, gasping his last, and she dropped him in disgust, casting her eyes about for another. She spotted one trying to hide beneath the bodies of his friends, and dragged him out by his heels, rage giving her the strength to physically lift him and pull him to his feet. He didn't seem to be able to stand, and she had to hold him up.
"It looks as though I'll have to resort to the old-fashioned ways of doing things," she said with a smirk, and shoved her hand into his chest, making him scream wordlessly as she clenched her fingers around his heart and ripped it out. She dropped him and he collapsed, but she still held the heart in her hands, glowing fiercely.
"Now," she said sternly, holding up her prize to his terrified face. "Where is my son?"
The boy gabbled at her, and she frowned in surprise, then stepped back from him, lip curling. His tongue was gone. Useless!
"What the hell?" Regina turned to see Emma staring at the scene of carnage with a look of horror on her face.
"I didn't do this!" said Regina immediately, and Emma's lip curled in revulsion.
"Regina, I just saw you drop one of these boys in a bleeding mess and rip out the heart of another!" she shouted. "You don't seriously think I'll believe you, do you?"
"I don't give a damn whether you believe me or not," said Regina coldly, lifting her chin. "I tried to get the information we needed from his kidnappers."
Emma threw up her hands. "I can't believe this! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Regina's eyes flashed dark fire. "Oh, so I'm the only one of us that's ever killed anyone, is that what you're going with? May I remind you that your mother, the supposedly sweet and innocent Snow White, manipulated me into killing my own?"
"That was different…" began Emma, and Regina cut her off with a brittle laugh.
"Of course!" she sneered. "It always is when it's you. When it's something you're fighting for you're always able to justify it to yourself! How the hell do you think Gold and I have survived all this time?"
"Your mother's death is the only one Mary Margaret is responsible for, and she feels terrible about it!" snapped Emma, and Regina's laugh became full-throated.
"Oh my God, how naïve are you?" she snarled. "There was a war! She led an army against me, the rightful queen. How many do you think perished in that war? And as for your loser of a father (who, FYI, was a goddamn shepherd, not a prince), he also led troops against his adoptive father, again, the rightful ruler!" Her lips curved in a smile of derision. "You're such a bunch of hypocrites! In fact, you're worse than me, because you don't have the guts to do the deed yourselves. You just manipulate others into killing for you, or send people to their deaths all the while telling yourselves it's for the greater good."
"I haven't killed anyone!" snapped Emma, and Regina raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Well, you certainly didn't step in when Gold sent Tamara mad, now did you? How exactly do you think that will end?" She held up her hands, covered with blood from the dying boy she had picked up, the captured heart glowing red. "Believe me, Miss Swan, I'm not the only one with blood on my hands, here. Yours is just invisible to the naked eye."
"They're boys, Regina! Boys!" said Emma desperately. "Some are no older than Henry! How could you?"
"They're all far older than you and I, dear," she said, a slight smirk on her face. "Pan has the face of a boy, but we know he's a demon. His followers are no different. Look." She held up the heart, and Emma could see that the centre of it was dark, blackened, as though the light would not reach it. She shook her head.
"They've been frozen in time on this hell-hole of an island, but that doesn't make them legitimate targets for your psychotic behaviour!" snapped Emma. "Good God, Regina, what do you think Henry would say?"
"Well, unless we can get some information we can use to find him," said Regina, slowly and carefully, as though Emma was being deliberately slow. "We'll never know whether he'd believe me over you or not, will we?"
"Oh, no!" Emma shook her head. "This is it, Regina! This settles it, once and for all. When we find him and get him home you're not coming anywhere near him!"
Regina bristled with rage. "He's my son!" she thundered, her eyes flashing. Emma squared up to her, shaking with anger.
"He's my son!" she declared. "And if you think I'm going to allow you near him after what you did, you're out of your mind!"
Regina opened her mouth for an angry retort, then closed it, her gaze suddenly calculating. She passed the captured heart from hand to hand, the boy from whom she had ripped it watching it avidly. The sight made Emma feel sick.
"We'll see," Regina said calmly. "But recall, Miss Swan, that you signed your rights away to him when he was born. Legally, you have no claim on him. It'll be interesting to see what a court would think of you trying to take a boy from his mother. I'm guessing abduction would be the charge."
"The whole of Storybrooke knows…" began Emma furiously, but Regina lifted a stalling hand.
"Yes," she agreed, her voice suddenly lilting, almost taunting. "But let's say I decide to take him out of Storybrooke. Let's say, for example, that I decide to go to Boston? The curse doesn't affect me, I can come and go as I please."
"Me too," said Emma curtly, and Regina smiled unpleasantly.
"Indeed," she said slowly. "Thereby lending credence to my tale of my son's biological mother stalking the two of us."
Emma's mouth fell open. "You can't be serious! I'll tell them what you did!"
Regina's lip curled. "Tell them what, dear?" she said mockingly. "Tell them I'm some Evil Queen from a land of fairy tales who rips out the still-beating hearts of her victims?" She laughed hollowly, tossing the heart up and down in her hands. "Oh, I truly hope that's the story you're going to run with!" She grasped the heart firmly, and Emma's eyes widened in horror as she crushed it to dust. The boy fell to the floor at her feet, staring sightless at the sky, and Emma blinked back tears, falling to her knees beside him. He was perhaps thirteen. Not much older than Henry. He could be Henry. She glared up at Regina, fury in her eyes as she got to her feet, but the other woman was standing with her hands on her hips, her mouth set in an arrogant sneer.
"Since we're no longer playing nice, Miss Swan," spat Regina. "I suggest we don't speak unless it's concerned with rescuing Henry." She made to storm past Emma, but whirled around at the last moment to face her, her beautiful face taut with rage and pain. "And if you ever try to take my son from me I will kill you!"
It was the way she had said it, not with any volume or heat, but utterly calm and cold, that made Emma believe every word. Regina stalked away, cleaning blood from her clothes with magic as she went, and Emma squared her jaw. She would find Henry, she would take him home, and she would keep her promise to Regina. She would never let her see him again. Not even if it meant her life.
A/N: Ooh, I love writing Emma vs Regina scenes!
So, I had this idea weeks back that Tinkerbell was going to have lost her wings, largely because I thought of Pan as the sort to pull the wings off insects as a little boy, and it's only a short hop, skip and jump to pulling the wings off fairies. Then, of course, I saw 3x03, and thought "rats". However, as my Tinkerbell is very different and it's Pan that's taken her wings, not the Blue Fairy being an utter cow (again), I decided it was sufficiently different to still find a place in my AU.
Hope you enjoyed - I'll update as soon as I can!