"Emma."
It's a whisper, a breathed reverence. Regina stares down at her in utter shock and Emma just stares right back, green eyes huge, color returning to cheeks that had been deathly pale only moments before.
"You saved me," Emma whispers, eyes turning glossy as her chest heaves beneath the thin white hospital sheets. She reaches up, small hands landing on Regina's cheeks, and that breaks the frozen state the older woman is in as she chokes back a sob and pulls Emma to her, hugging the smaller body with a tight ferocity. Emma nuzzles into her almost instinctively, face tucked into the crook of Regina's neck and arms curled tight around her shoulders, and for a moment neither are aware of the world around them, the people with fog clearing from their eyes and realization turning their mouths into tightly pursed lines.
"Regina," a voice says, hoarse and urgent, and Regina finally lifts her head to see August staring at them in alarm. All around them, Whale and the other doctors and nurses have their heads in their hands, faces pinched in various degrees of discomfort and confusion. Emma stiffens in her arms, yet Regina is still too stunned, desperate, relieved, to realize why they're all turning tense.
"No," Emma croaks, fear crawling its way up her throat, because this isn't how it was supposed to happen. They were supposed to be somewhere safe, somewhere fortified, not sitting in the middle of a crowded hospital room, vulnerable and confused.
"August—?" Regina says, her mind racing to catch up, and the man's eyes turn to her—blue, so very familiar, yet scared now, guilty—and he stands there frozen with his hands hovering awkwardly in the air.
"You broke the curse," he rasps. There's a strangled sound from next to him as Ruby finally pushes herself away from the wall where she'd slumped, staring clear-eyed at Regina and then darting her gaze to August and Emma.
"Oh, my god, Emma," the younger brunette says in realization when she actually stares at Emma again, because this is the baby her best friend had carried for nine stressful months, the baby she'd felt kicking against her hand the last time she'd been able to visit Snow before the curse had taken them all away. Her eyes flicker to Regina then, conflicted and uncertain, and there is a tentative amount of suspicion in her voice when she realizes, "The Evil Queen."
Regina stares back in horror, heart jumping up into her throat as everything clicks into place. Whale is the first to blink his eyes clear and look at her, eyes narrowing and lip curling even as August suddenly moves himself protectively between the bed and the others.
"Your Majesty," Whale growls with the kind of dark disdain that has been largely absent from his personality for twenty eight years. News of the Queen's impending curse had never reached him back then and now he looks like a man justifiably furious at realizing the last near-three-decades has all been stolen from him. "What the hell have you done?"
"Stay back," August warns when Whale takes a menacing step forward, and then he speaks to Regina without taking the risk of looking back at her. "Regina, we have to go. Now."
"We..." Regina falters, short of breath. She can't quite remember how to breathe, not when her world has just crashed all around her, not when everything she's ever done has just been for naught. Not when Jefferson's words reverberate tauntingly in her mind—Savior, Savior, Savior—and her arms slowly lose their grip on the child in her arms.
The child that is supposedly the twenty eight year old spawn of Snow White. The Savior. The destroyer of curses. The destroyer of the Evil Queen.
"Gina," Emma chokes out, eyes welling with tears as Regina's arms fall away from her completely. It's over, she can feel it, and all she wants to do is scream and cry and rewind time. "Gina, I'm sorry, please, I never meant to—"
Regina jerks away from the bed like she's been burnt and stares at Emma with something angry and hurt and shattered in her eyes, her lips parted with each laboured breath and her eyes gleaming with unshed tears.
"You did this," she whispers, and it's broken and defeated, not the angry vitriol Emma had once feared she would receive when the curse broke. When the Evil Queen was finally revealed for who she really was.
Except there is no grand reveal. There is no Evil Queen with dark gowns and darker make-up and hatred on the tip of her tongue. It's just Regina, the Regina she's come to know and love too deeply these past six months, and the look of utter betrayal in her eyes is what breaks Emma's heart into tiny, agonized pieces.
"Gina—" She reaches out a small hand and Regina actually flinches away.
"Don't!" Regina cries, shaking her head vehemently, arms immediately curling around her body, a hand pressed tightly to her stomach. The tears are streaming down her cheeks now, and she cannot withhold a soft sob as she backs away from the bed, from Emma. "Don't."
Dark eyes skitter around the room, at Whale's angry stare and at the nurses with their various looks of hatred and pity, at August with guilt in his eyes and Ruby with conflicted anger in hers, and then Regina is fleeing the room without another word, only the sharp click of her heels and the gasping sobs forcing their way out of her lungs.
"Gina!" Emma cries out, jerking in place, hardly noticing the painful tug of the various needles and tubes still attached to her. "Regina!"
"Emma," Ruby breathes out, finally closing the distance to reach Emma on the bed, and there's a newfound love in her gaze, more than just a babysitter but that of a godmother, one who had known her when she'd been only a babe in her mother's belly. "Careful. You'll hurt yourself."
Emma stiffens and pulls away from her hovering hands because she doesn't know what to do with the new recognition in Ruby's eyes, doesn't know how to feel, and all she can think about is Regina fleeing the hospital into a mob of angry citizens, and—
"August, go!" she shouts, when August is still standing there in a dazed sort of shock, and his expression is understandably concerned when he looks at her, still tiny and vulnerable in a six year old body. "I'll be fine. Go!"
"But—"
"You promised," Emma cries, pleading. That sparks something protective in him, and he suddenly grabs Whale by his lapel and snarls in his face with a kind of ferocity that has even Ruby's hackles rising.
"That's Snow White's daughter that just broke the curse and gave you your memories back, so if you touch even a hair on her head, so help me god—"
And Whale just nods dumbly in shock, so August releases him and turns to Ruby, shoulders tense as he regards the young woman who may or may not still be his girlfriend.
"Ruby—"
"Go, do what you have to do," Ruby says faintly, frowning at him even as she remains standing protectively over Emma's small form. "I'll protect Emma."
It's not acceptance, nor is it rejection, and August just swallows down the lump in his throat and nods, meeting Emma's gaze one last time before he, too, runs out the door and hurries after Regina.
"What are you all staring at?" Ruby snarls when the rest of the room's occupants turn their attention on them, and most take the cue to flee the room. Whale stays only long enough to debate unhooking Emma from all the machines before deciding to ditch his curse-given occupation and stride broodily from the room without a word.
"Hold still."
Ruby starts to carefully detach Emma from the many needles and tubes, eyes lowered and lips pursed, and Emma doesn't know what to say in the newfound silence of the room. Thankfully, it's Ruby who breaks the silence.
"You don't look twenty eight."
"It was a spell," Emma sighs, wincing as a needle is gently drawn out from the crook of her arm. "I need the Blue Fairy to help me change back."
"I'll take you to the convent, then. She's a nun in this world," Ruby mutters, expression tight as she tosses the red-tinged items away and presses a cotton ball to Emma's arm to stem the bleeding. "Snow is probably running down Main Street looking for you by now, too. God, I can't believe... you two were right here all this time..."
She closes her eyes, pinching at the bridge of her nose, and Emma clutches the white sheets to her chest in discomfort as the brunette paces. Ruby feels older somehow, wiser, like the burdened werewolf of August's stories, fighting for Snow's side in the war and knowing the taste of blood, of tearing soldiers limb from limb. Gone is the playful and flirty free-spirited waitress she'd come to love. Gone is Ruby Lucas, replaced by the Red of old, and for that, Emma feels her heart ache with mourning.
"Ruby," she says, hesitant, and the brunette takes one look at her—shirtless and pale beneath crinkly hospital sheets—before quickly retrieving her discarded sweater and helping her get redressed. "I need to find Regina."
"We need to find your parents," Ruby says, frowning at her. "Jesus, it's— it's been twenty eight years, Emma. They've lost you for twenty eight years. We have to find them and regroup."
"They didn't know I existed for twenty eight years," Emma corrects, which only serves to make Ruby bristle. "I'm not justifying— Damn it, Ruby, everyone has their memories back. Regina's in danger. I have to make sure she's safe first."
Ruby just stares at her for a long few moments, conflicted, bouncing between disbelief and indignation before settling on something like defeat.
"How can you... how can you love her so much? After all that's happened?"
Emma just gives her a measured look. Once upon a time, Ruby would have been baffled at how such a small child could see through her like that.
"And you don't still care about her? Even now that your memories are back?" Emma asks in return.
"I never asked to befriend her. You— you made me befriend someone I should have hated."
"I didn't make you do anything," Emma points out softly. "You just got to know the real Regina without bias."
Ruby can only smile sadly and shake her head, opening her arms to the tiny body still sitting on the operating table.
"Come on then, princess. Let's see if we can catch up to them."
She's halfway down Mifflin Street when August catches up to her.
"Regina— Regina!" Fingers clasp her arm and she jerks out of his grip, striding faster, heels clicking a hard staccato on the pavement. "Regina, please—"
"Leave me alone," she growls lowly, voice rough with tears. August just barely keeps pace with her, eyes darting every which way just in case they're approached. Whatever the citizens of Storybrooke are doing right now, chasing after the Evil Queen is clearly not on their priority list, and for that he is grateful. The few people they've seen on the streets at this hour have scampered away in the opposite direction, quick to disappear into the darkness of night.
"Regina, I'm sorry—"
"Sorry? You're sorry?" Her heels hit the pavement harder, so hard that he's surprised they haven't snapped. "Did you plan this all along? You and— and the Savior. These last six months— half a year!"
She storms halfway up her driveway before whirling on him, eyes red and mascara smeared, and August's chest aches with regret as she jabs a finger into his chest and stops him in his tracks.
"I trusted you!" she shrieks, repeatedly stabbing her finger against him. August winces and takes each hit. "I let you into my home! I thought you were my friends! I thought you were my family!"
"Regina," he tries, weakly, but she shakes her head as more tears stream from her cheeks.
"I thought you were my family," she says again, voice cracking, her hand falling limp to her side. "I thought— I thought she—"
She breaks off into a sob and August immediately surges forward, pulling her into his arms even as she pushes feebly against him before giving in. Her face presses into the front of his shoulder, tears soaking into his suede jacket, hands clutching at his sides. He wraps his arms securely around her shoulders and holds on, throat tight with the beginnings of his own tears.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, cheek against her dark hair, blue eyes fluttering shut as she cries against him. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. We... We never thought we'd love you."
At that, she pushes away from him, betrayal written across her face again. "Don't you dare lie—"
"We love you, Regina," he says softly. Sadly. Eyes gleaming with tears. "We came here to spy on you and we ended up loving you instead."
Her lips twist with pain, tears trickling down her cheeks as she meets his gaze and throws her arms to the sides, defeated. "Look how that turned out. I hope you're happy."
She turns for the house and August follows, only for her to shove him back and block him from the front door.
"Go. Away."
"I won't leave you alone," he insists, scrubbing the wetness from his eyes. "Everyone's got their memories back. They'll be angry, and they'll—"
"Let them come," she snarls, shoving her key at the lock with trembling hands that belie her nerves.
"What are you going to do?" He closes his fingers around hers, taking the key from her after a moment's struggle. "Regina, it's not safe—"
"I don't care!" she snaps, slapping at his hand when he refuses to return the key.
"Well I do!" he shouts right back, shoving the key into the lock and finally popping open the front door. "I know what we did was wrong, but we care about you and I'm not about to let you go walking into danger! Forget about me, how do you think Emma will feel if you—"
"Don't you dare," Regina snarls, still inches shorter than him despite her heels yet still going toe-to-toe with him on the front porch, teeth a bright and vicious white against red lips. "Don't you use her against me. Haven't you done enough?"
August deflates a little, brows furrowing together as his shoulders droop.
"Regina, she loves you more than anything."
"I loved my daughter," she says hoarsely, bitterly. "The Savior isn't her."
"You're right, she's not. She's mine."
When Regina and August whirl around, it's Mary Margaret who stands at the front gate. Except it's not really Mary Margaret, not anymore, not when her face is shadowed with anger and her eyes are dark with history, lips pursed into a tight line and hands fisted at her sides.
"Snow White," Regina husks, lip curling with scorn. "Welcome back."
"Where's my daughter?" Snow demands, eyes darting past Regina and into the open doorway, into the darkness of the mayoral mansion, as if she might catch a glimpse of the little blonde haired girl she had never recognized as her own until now.
"She's not here," Regina snaps, at the same time August says, "She's safe, Snow."
"August," Snow says, finally staring at him as if noticing him properly for the first time. "You were the one who brought Emma here. You... Are you...?"
"Pinocchio," he confirms wearily, dipping his head. "I've protected her the best I could all these years. I swear to you, she's safe. She's with Red."
Snow nods faintly, then, even more faintly, and with a hint of betrayal, she says, "You gave her to Regina."
August glances sideways at Regina's unreadable expression. "It was too early for the prophecy to happen. We came here to spy on her. To... find a way to defeat her."
"And have you?" Snow asks, taking cautious steps forward, glaring at Regina as if she might conjure a fireball.
"Snow, wait," he says, moving between the women, but he doesn't have the chance to say much more.
Not when half of Storybrooke slinks out from the shadows and converges on the front lawn of the mayoral mansion with Whale leading the charge.
"Not to worry, Mary Margaret, we'll handle the Queen," Whale mocks, sneering as he pushes past her. "She's got a lot to pay for."
"I thought I told you to back off, Whale," August growls, puffing up to his full height as the other man faces off with him.
"You told me to leave the Savior alone, which I did. The Queen, however, deserves no such protection. Move aside, puppet boy."
"I said back off," August hisses, giving Whale a good shove. When the doctor stumbles, he turns and quickly tries to push Regina towards the door. "Get inside!"
"No." It's her turn to shove him off before striding towards the crowd—the crowd armed with pitchforks and flaming torches, as if they're still in the bloody Enchanted Forest—and flipping her coat tails behind her with the dramatic air befitting a Queen. "You wanted your Queen? Well here she is."
Her hands lift, ready to summon up her signature fireballs in one last fight, one final stand before her accursed life comes to an end— but nothing happens. She looks to her outstretched fingers as if they've betrayed her before Whale's hands are suddenly around her throat and she's being shoved back against a porch pillar, the air getting knocked out of her lungs.
"Let her go!"
Ruby appears from out of nowhere like a red streaked bullet, slamming into Whale and sending him tumbling painfully into the rose bushes, while a tiny head of blonde hair lands between her and the rest of the crowd, all fierce bravado even as she stands a mere three foot two like the runt she is.
Regina wants to cry at the sight of her.
"Emma!" Snow cries, rushing forward towards her and scooping her up into her arms. Emma squeezes her back, indulging in the moment for only a brief second before squirming to be let down. She can feel Regina's eyes burning into her back and hates that she's causing her more pain, more reminders of her loss and the lies she'd been given.
"You need to get these people to leave," she demands, escaping Snow's grip and backing up so that she's standing protectively in front of Regina again. Snow's eyes find Regina's—angry and jealous and hurt, the both of them—and then she's whirling on the crowd behind her with her chin tilted up, every bit the princess she'd been raised as.
"Go find your families, go back to your homes," she announces firmly, resolute. "Gather at the town hall tomorrow morning and we will do our best to answer your questions."
"What about the Evil Queen?" one man shouts.
"She must be punished for her crimes!" another demands. They stir the crowd into shouting their fury and Snow somehow stands strong against them even alone as she is, without her Prince Charming at her side as she'd once been accustomed to.
"I will deal with the Queen," she says, eyes narrowed, daring them to challenge her. "Now go home!"
It's when August and Ruby step forward, flanking her on either side with their eyes dark and their bodies tense and ready to fight, that the crowd disperses with low mutterings of discontent and suspicion. Whale looks furious at their quick retreat but doesn't stick around for the aftermath, shooting Regina a warning sneer before he, too, disappears into the night.
"Fuck," Ruby finally says, breaking the eerie silence and summing up their day quite succinctly. She turns to Snow and says, "Jesus Christ," before pulling the shorter brunette into the tightest hug imaginable. The two best friends cling together for only a moment before Snow is turning on Regina again, reaching out to grab Emma by her thin shoulders and pull her closer.
"Please, it's not like I would hurt her," Regina snarks, but her pain is evident in the roughness of her voice and the wetness of her eyes.
"Regina," Emma says, feebly, but the brunette turns away from them all, stiffening her shoulders and moving into the darkness of her house.
"Stay away from me," is all Regina says before the door slams shut.
The silence befalling the front porch is stifling.
"Emma," Snow finally breathes out, dropping down to a knee to meet Emma's gaze with a hesitant smile. "Oh, my sweet girl. You were here all along. You found us."
"August found you," Emma says awkwardly after a moment, forcing her gaze away from the front door to give her mother a shy smile. And it's... strange, to finally speak to the woman who knows they're mother and daughter. They've been interacting for half a year and only now are they looking at each other without reserve, with full recognition in their eyes.
"August..." Snow glances between the two, brows slowly knitting together. "Emma. I thought the prophecy said you'd break the curse on your—"
"-twenty eighth birthday," Emma finishes. "Yeah. I'm... I'm twenty eight."
"But you're..."
"It was a spell," Emma says.
"A potion from the Blue Fairy," August supplies. "We need her to help Emma transform back into her real body."
"Blue... Mother Superior," Snow says in realization, Ruby nodding along in agreement. "She'll likely be at the convent. I can take you there, after we— oh, David! Your father is at the hospital!"
"The John Doe, yeah," Emma says with a softer smile. Snow's eyes widen, glossing over with tears as she remembers all those Sunday mornings watching the little blonde sit by David's bedside, patting at his hand with a curious sort of familiarity.
"Oh, Emma. You were with him all this time," she breathes out, and this time Emma doesn't protest when she's scooped up into a tight embrace, snuggling against her mother's warm chest like she'd never been able to do before. It's all that she's ever dreamed it would be and more, the way Snow's cheek presses next to hers, the way soft lips kiss at her temple and gentle hands run through her hair, fingers grazing her scalp. Her eyes water and she turns her head so that Snow's sweater absorbs her tears, muffling her little whimper.
"You'd best get to the hospital, Snow, in case David's already woken from his coma," Ruby says after a moment, looking apologetic for interrupting their moment.
"You aren't coming?" Snow questions her best friend with a furrowed brow. Ruby glances at August, at the mansion, and then back to Snow with a shake of her head.
"No, August and I need to talk. And..."
"You'll keep an eye on Regina?" Emma says. Ruby nods and looks guiltily at the house again before meeting Snow's frowning expression.
"She's my friend," Ruby says softly.
"And mine," August adds.
"But..." Snow looks at a loss for words and August can't blame her.
"Think of the last six months, the hardass mayor who was wrapped around a little girl's finger, the waitress who babysat and the social worker who stuck around to have lunch with them every other day at Granny's. We might have been an odd group but we still became a family. None of that disappears just because you've gotten your old memories back."
"Pinocchio," Snow says, like a mother might sound, reproving and disappointed, but August's expression hardens and he gives an adamant shake of his head.
"My name is August. And I'm going to stay here and make sure my friend is safe."
"Go on, Snow," Ruby says quietly, her eyes pleading, and Snow just frowns at her for a long moment before reluctantly nodding and turning to leave. Over her mother's shoulder, Emma meets August and Ruby's gazes and receives looks of reassurance from them both, knowing Regina will be safe under their protection.
When Snow and Emma are out of sight, August turns hesitantly towards Ruby.
"Ruby—"
"Pinocchio, huh?" the brunette says, the corner of her lip quirking. August ducks his head with a groan and she chuckles, shaking her head with amusement. "You were barely this tall when I last saw you in the Enchanted Forest," she says, holding a hand out next to her hip.
"Twenty eight years ago," August reminds her, grimacing. "I'm older than you now."
"You are, aren't you?" She smiles wryly, looking contemplative before taking a tentative step closer. August stills, his blue eyes wide with hope. "August, what we had—"
"Was real," he says, but the firmness in which he began with gives way to a note of uncertainty. "It was real, wasn't it? All that time we spent together... did it mean anything to you?"
"Of course it did." Her shoulders sag a little and she sighs, brows pinching together as she runs a hand through her hair. "But August, I'm not Ruby Lucas. I'm... I'm not the happy-go-lucky waitress you met. She was a part of the curse, the flimsiest parts of myself without the darkness, without my history. Ruby's never gone to war. Ruby's never ripped a man to shreds with her teeth and claws. I'm not the woman you—"
"She's still a part of you," August interrupts, reaching forward to clasp her hands within his and inwardly rejoicing when she doesn't pull away. "And I want to get to know every part of you, Red. If you'll let me."
She blinks at him, momentarily stunned to hear her nickname on his tongue before his easy acceptance warms her from the inside out. She thinks of the little boy with the big blue eyes and the little feathered cap always smiling up at her with adoration. The fully grown man standing before her now has that very same adoration in his eyes, unwavering and sure.
"I'd like that," she says softly.
August's smile lights up the entire world.
When they get to the hospital, David is struggling to make his way down the empty hall in nothing but a hospital gown, leaning heavily against the wall for balance as his long-unused body readjusts to being alive. There are no nurses or doctors to help him, everyone having abandoned the place after getting their memories back, and the pain he's working through has him squeezing his eyes shut with a grunt, head snapping up in surprise when he hears their footsteps.
"Snow," he breathes, blue eyes blown wide as he stares across the short distance in shock, open-mouth quickly morphing into a big smile.
"Charming," she whispers back, lips curving upwards, and then she's hurtling forward into his arms, his legs giving out and the both of them tumbling to the floor with laughter and shouts of joy. She lands atop him, feels the familiar firmness of his chest and the heat he's always emitted like a human furnace, and she cups his face and kisses him hard to make up for the last twenty eight years apart.
"You found me," he says between kisses, and she props herself up on her elbows to beam down at him, eyes shining.
"Did you ever doubt I would?"
"But the curse—" And he blinks hard, brows furrowing with growing confusion. "Does that mean...?"
"Dad?"
He turns his head towards the little voice and finds Emma standing a short distance away, shuffling anxiously on the spot with wide green eyes and her lip pinched between her teeth. Something in his chest trembles with recognition and David almost chokes down a sob.
"Emma?"
Snow motions for her to come closer and that's all Emma needs before diving into their open arms, burying her head beneath David's chin as his large hand settles against her back and cradles her with infinite gentleness. Snow squeezes them all together despite their awkward position on the floor, all tangled limbs and bony knees, and for a few minutes Emma just soaks it in, letting the warmth of their love curl around her like a protective blanket.
"How— how are you—?"
David leans back to get a better look at her and Emma flushes, swiping the dampness from her eyes.
"A potion from the Blue Fairy. I'll need her to change me back into my adult form. It's... a long story."
Snow nods, not wanting to discuss the complicated details with David quite yet. David just accepts the vague answer with a soft smile and trusting eyes, happy to just be reunited with his family.
"Let's get you to Blue then. I can't wait to see the amazing woman you've grown into, Emma. To defeat the Queen's curse and save us all... We're so proud of you."
Emma's eyes widen slightly in concern before flickering to Snow. Snow, for her part, ushers them all up onto their feet with a straight face and only the smallest furrow between her brows.
"We'll find Blue at the convent. Come along."
Turning back into an adult is not so easy a feat, it seems, as Blue stares sympathetically at them from across a mahogany desk, her hands neatly folded together and a finger tapping nervously on the hardwood.
"Without either fairydust or my wand, there simply isn't anything I can do."
"Where do we find either?" Snow asks, imploring of her friend and confidante. "Surely there's something you can try."
"Well, perhaps," Blue says, contemplative. "I don't know if fairydust even exists in this realm, but if we could find my wand, I could turn her back."
"Where do you think it could be?" David asks, tugging uncomfortably at his collar. He's in a simple plaid shirt and jeans, and though the curse had left memories of the modern world in his mind, he's not physically used to the things in this realm.
"Where else would all magical items be?" Blue quirks a brow at him.
"Rumplestiltskin's," Emma supplies, remembering how August had once warned her away from the pawnshop, having seen all manner of dark and magical items there that had left goosebumps prickling his skin. (He'd seen the ghastly puppets, too, remembered Geppetto's stories about how his parents had been accidentally turned into dead marionettes by Rumplestiltskin's potions— and promptly couldn't sleep for weeks.)
"Mr. Gold," Snow says in realization. "Of course."
Emma is the one to convince them to head over immediately, yearning to be in her own body again after half a year of being a child. Snow and David flank her protectively, alert and wary as the bell rings overhead and Gold himself steps out from the backroom to greet them.
"Ah, if it isn't the royal family," he says with a smug little smirk, unsurprised to see them all together. His cane taps the floor and he positions himself on the other side of the main display case, hands resting atop the glass and his eyes gleaming. "What can I do for you, your Majesties?"
"The Blue Fairy's wand - where is it?" Snow demands, striding forward confidently. Emma feels a little surge of pride at the sight. This is her mother, the Snow White August used to tell her stories about, the fearless bandit and the loyal Queen of the White Kingdom. She is kind, yes, but she's also strong, nothing like the meek Mary Margaret Blanchard.
"What makes you think I would have such an item?" Gold's smile is reptilian, as is the way his eyes flicker to Emma the way a predator glances at prey.
"Cut the crap, Rumplestiltskin," David growls, chest puffing up as he sizes up the smaller man. "We're not here to play your mind games. Give us the wand."
"I'm afraid I really don't have it," Gold replies lightly, shrugging and lifting up his hands in a helpless gesture. "Perhaps the Queen has it hidden away somewhere. This was her curse, after all."
"It was your curse, you just tricked her into casting it," Emma snaps, tiny hands squeezing into fists as the temptation to punch him in the nose rises within her. She can feel David's confused and questioning gaze land on her back, but ignores it and shoots Gold her fiercest glare instead.
"Emma Swan," he says instead, the name slithering across his tongue like a threat. She stiffens and he smirks. "Still in a child's body, I see. I take it this hunt for the Blue Fairy's wand is so that you can be restored to your real form."
"What's it to you?" Emma grunts, holding her ground even as Snow and David both set a hand on her shoulder, eager to leave and search elsewhere.
"Here's a good lesson to learn, Savior: never rely on a gnat." Turning, Gold unlocks the cabinets behind him and reaches within, carefully plucking up a glass bottle and holding it out to her. Within the little round bottle sloshes a shimmering golden liquid. "The antidote you're after, to return you to your adult form."
Emma instinctively reaches for it, only for Snow to yank her back.
"Emma, no," she says, quickly turning a glare on Gold. "His help always comes with a price. What's the cost, Gold?"
"No price," he says, unnerving them all with his grin. "I wanted the curse broken, and you've broken it. Think of this as a parting gift."
Untrusting, David is the one to take the bottle from him, holding it carefully in his hand as Snow ushers Emma out ahead of them. They spare the man one last suspicious glance before exiting the shop and crossing the street, eager to put as much distance between them as possible.
"Are we even sure this is safe?" David asks, examining the bottle with furrowed brows as his wife and daughter walk closely next to him. "How do we know it's not poisoned?"
"Why would he poison me now? I did what he wanted," Emma says, frowning. "He has no reason to want to hurt me."
"She's right," Snow sighs, though she looks nervous as she eyes the potion. "Rumplestiltskin may toy with words for his own benefit, but he never lies. If he says this will turn Emma back into an adult..."
"Then I'm sure it will." Emma reaches up towards her father with an outstretched hand, watching the momentary struggle on his face before he reluctantly hands it over. After some debate, she stops and turns to face them, tucking the bottle safely into her pocket.
"Emma?"
"I'm going to go see Regina."
Her announcement has Snow stiffening and David turning pale with shock.
"Sweetheart—" Snow starts, as David sputters, "She's still alive?"
The looks of disbelief on their faces does not dissipate even as Emma explains the past six months to them as quickly as she can, hesitant but truthful as she tells of how much she and Regina have grown to care about each other. David's expression of muted horror and Snow's pained look only grow as she gets to the end of her story.
"I— I died. The sleeping curse Jefferson made me eat killed me. But then Regina kissed my forehead and woke me, and the curse broke—"
"Regina saved you with True Love's Kiss?" Snow asks, her voice faint. David's expression flips to anger.
"No! That's not possible. That witch—"
"That witch took care of me and loved me for the past six months," Emma interrupts lowly. "I lied to her and tricked her all that time, and I will always regret that, but it doesn't change the fact that we grew to care about each other. She's... she was an amazing mother."
Snow flinches and David looks absolutely wounded, but Emma will not apologize for that. She can't.
"I have to go see her," she says after a moment's silence, shoulders drooping as she sighs. "I... I have to apologize again. What I did was horrible."
"But she's furious, Emma," Snow insists. "We both saw her. She'll never forgive you. If you go over there, she'll only hurt you."
"You don't know her like I do," Emma says softly. "She's changed. She won't hurt me."
Snow and David don't believe her, but when Emma starts the walk back towards Mifflin Street, neither try to argue again, simply interlocking their fingers and walking silently together.
August is alone and sitting in the dark on the front porch when they arrive.
"August?" Emma calls out, scampering up the walkway to get to him and reactivating the porch light sensors, bathing them all in pale yellow. He holds out his arms and accepts her hug, gladly cradling the tiny body to himself.
"Hey, princess," he murmurs, running a hand through her blonde curls before releasing her and casting an assessing look over David as he and Snow approach. David seems less pleased, frowning at the strange man hugging his—for now—young daughter. "King David?"
"You are?" David demands. August hauls himself up to his feet with a sigh and smiles wryly, bowing slightly at the waist in a rusty sign of respect.
"August Booth. You might remember me as Pinocchio."
At that, David relaxes immediately, eyes widening as he looks the other man over more carefully now. "Pinocchio? You were just a boy when..."
Both men remember the day, David much more clearly than August, as for him it felt like only yesterday that he'd put his newborn daughter into a young Pinocchio's arms and shouted at him to run, to get to the wardrobe and get Emma to safety. Regina's dark knights had cut him down shortly thereafter, left him lying there in a pool of his own blood when Snow limped in to find him and collapse at his side. That day hadn't gone as planned at all, but he remembered meeting Snow's tearful eyes with his own blurred ones, a weak laugh escaping him when he knew Emma had escaped and would one day be back to save them all.
"You took care of her?" he asks, voice quiet. August tips his head with a soft smile.
"Best I could for the last twenty eight years."
After a moment's silence, David steps forward and grasps August's hand, setting his other hand on August's shoulder.
"Thank you for taking care of my daughter," he says seriously. August grasps his hand just as firmly.
"She took care of me too," he says with a wry smile. When he glances down, Emma can only blush and roll her eyes a little.
"Where's Ruby?" she asks instead, to which he jerks a thumb behind him towards the mansion.
"Inside. Regina hates my guts right now, understandably, but Ruby managed to convince her to let her in. She texted me a while ago and said they're in the den, talking."
"Wait for me out here," Emma directs to her parents, and when David opens his mouth to object, August steps in.
"I know this must all be very overwhelming for you, David, but trust me when I say that Emma knows what she's doing. And she's right; Regina has changed. She's not the woman you remember from twenty eight years ago. She won't hurt her."
"I'll be fine, Dad," Emma adds, watching David immediately soften at the title. "Trust me."
He nods, reluctant, and Snow presses into his side, their hands tightly clutched together as Emma tries the door and finds it unlocked. Stepping inside the dark mansion, she shuts it gingerly behind herself and moves towards the den, following the soft murmur of Ruby and Regina's voices. Both women go silent when Emma appears, and Regina looks to be seconds away from launching out of her seat and fleeing.
"Wait, please," Emma begs, hands held out placatingly when Regina stares at her with wide eyes, dark pupils trapped between anger and pain. Ruby sits frozen, holding her breath as if waiting to see what this situation is going to turn into before she makes a move.
"You shouldn't be here," Regina says hoarsely, and Emma's heart aches as she makes out the redness of Regina's eyes even in the darkness of the room, angular features lit only by the soft glow of the moon outside the window. "I told you to stay away from me."
"Regina," Ruby murmurs, but quiets when the older brunette shoots her a warning glare.
"What do you want, Savior?" Regina asks, and it's cold and hard and unyielding, nothing like the soft words of affection Emma has become accustomed to. Her voice feels choked, trapped within her throat, and she knows apologies will hardly make a difference, but she doesn't know what else she could possibly say.
"I— I'm sorry—"
"And?" Dark eyes gleam with tears and Regina's lips are pursed into a scowl. "Do you want my forgiveness? Is that it? Are you here to assuage your own guilt?"
"No! No, please, I'm sorry—"
"Apology not accepted," Regina snarls, but it's low and subdued, like a cornered animal too beaten and exhausted to truly fight back. Ruby watches the both of them with wide, sorrowful eyes, and Emma doesn't know what to do, what she can do, because Regina hates her and she has every right to—
"Gina," she whimpers, tears streaming down her face, and Regina recoils like she's been slapped. "Gina, I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can say. I'm so sorry. I wish I'd never done it. I love you and you deserved so much better. I should have never..."
And she dissolves into tears, sobbing heavily with her small fists pressed to her eyes, and the next thing she knows she's being wrapped up in warm arms, a hand stroking down her mussed hair in a way that only Regina has ever done.
"I hate you," Regina whispers hoarsely, but she hugs Emma tighter, burying her face against blonde hair with a choked cry and cradling the tiny, trembling body to her. They remain like that for a long few minutes, crying and clinging to each other, until finally Regina pulls away and a bottle slips from Emma's pocket, tumbling harmlessly to the plush carpet below. A dark gaze lands on them and recognition sets a fresh layer of betrayal and heartbreak in Regina's eyes.
"Gina—" Emma croaks, but Regina just picks up the bottle and pushes it into her hands.
"Drink it," the brunette demands, her voice cracking. Emma stares at her, tears blurring her vision. Regina stares right back, taking in every feature. The messy blonde curls, the cherubic face, the button nose and big, round eyes the color of pale moss. She commits the child's face to memory, searing it into her brain... because she knows this is the last she'll ever see of it. Her little girl will be no more.
She wants to scream and cry at the unfairness of it all.
"Drink it," she says again, voice coming out as little more than a broken whisper, and this time Emma uncorks the bottle with a look of despair and holds it up to her own lips.
"No matter what happens, I do love you," she says quietly, and then she tips the bottle and downs the golden contents.
Regina sobs, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Her child is gone forever, as good as dead, and in her place is a blonde woman curled upon the carpet in the tattered remains of her clothes, tall and gangly with a defined jawline and hardened eyes. And scars, lining her body like pale silver tattoos, giving away each and every hardship she's ever faced in life. All twenty eight years of it.
"Emma." It's a heartbroken wail of mourning and Regina doesn't even realize she's the one who said it, just curls up upon herself and cries and cries and cries. Unfamiliar arms curl around her shoulders and hug her against a firm, unfamiliar body, and she sobs into the offered shoulder without refrain.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," a low voice whispers against her ear, over and over again on repeat, and it's rough and hoarse and achingly familiar, a deeper version of the tiny voice she'd once adored, and Regina can feel nothing but her own heart shattering.
"You took her from me," Regina cries, pressing swollen eyes into the Savior's shoulder. "You took my baby girl."
"I know," the Savior says, and it's a whimper, full of regret and pain and longing. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Regina cries against her, long and hard, and when she finally pulls away, her eyes are distant and her lips are pressed into a thin, tight line.
"Get out," she says, monotone and emotionless, and the Savior looks at her with wide, heartbroken eyes, but she cannot bring herself to care, not when this woman is the one who's taken away the only person she's loved in decades. "Get out."
"Emma," Ruby whispers, grabbing the Savior by her wrist, and the Savior's eyes are swollen with tears as she reluctantly backs away and moves for the exit.
"Here," Ruby murmurs, offering her coat, and the Savior puts it on over the shredded remains of her child-sized clothing and pulls it tightly around herself, shivering despite the warmth inside the house.
"Regina," she whispers from the entrance of the foyer, and Regina just turns away, leaning heavily against the fireplace mantle for support. Green eyes pierce her back but she refuses to turn again, refuses to acknowledge the Savior.
"Go," Regina says brokenly, shoulders sagging. The Savior doesn't move, just stares at her, miserable but determined.
"I do love you," she says softly, the words so familiar, yet the voice changed. Older. Wearier. "And I'll fight for you. I'll always fight for you."
And then she's gone, striding out of the house and taking her awestruck parents with her, while August remains on guard outside and Ruby lingers hesitantly at the edge of the den.
When Regina's knees hit the floor and she cries herself to sleep that night, Ruby drapes a blanket over her and holds vigil, quietly awaiting whatever morning will bring.