Green Looks Good On You: Chapter Twenty-One
I don't own Once Upon A Time.
Please enjoy.
Snow was the first to react. "Absolutely not." She stepped in front of Hook, blocking his body from Gold's view. "You won't hurt him."
"Oh no, dearie. I don't want to hurt him." Gold's gaze burned through Snow. It hadn't moved a millimetre, even when she had stepped in front of Hook, from where it was fixed on the prostrate man.
"Then what would you want with him?" Regina scoffed.
"What I want with him is my own business," Gold said softly. "Now, do you want my help or not?"
David frowned at Gold. "Do you swear that you will not harm Hook or let harm befall him?"
"Well I'm not going to throw myself in front of a blade if it's aimed at him, dearie, but I'm not going to torture him. I have other plans." Gold pursed his lips thoughtfully and tapped them with a long finger. He squinted at Snow and Charming, apparently curious. "And quite frankly, I don't understand why you're defending him. And please, don't tell me it's because 'that's what good people do' because good people don't let their children go without a fight. Especially," he giggled, "twice." Snow's grip tightened on her bow and Charming scowled at the man. "Now," Gold stepped forward, happy with their reactions, and stretched his hand out toward the gang. "Do we have a deal or not?"
Regina was the one who made the decision. "Deal." She shook his hand and Gold clapped his hands once.
"Excellent." He spun on his heel. "Come with me." He led them down the road to his store. Regina levitated Hook behind them as Gold ushered them into the store. "I'll take that off your hands, dear." Gold flicked his hands and Hook floated, still unconscious, into the back room.
"What are you going to do to him?" Henry asked the man.
Gold looked down at him and frowned. "That, my boy, is my business." Henry frowned back at him, crossing his arms over his chest. Gold sighed. "Well. Let's just say that I need him to do something for me." He raised his brows questioningly at the boy, who nodded. It was good enough for him. Plus, using the inherited superpower his Ma had given him, he knew that Gold wasn't lying. "Good. Now," he turned to face his wall of cupboards. Gold trailed his fingertips over the wood until he stopped and let his hand hover over the door. He slid a little key into the lock and lifted the latch. "Ah," he murmured. "Here it is."
Gold turned, a huge roll of paper in his hands. He smoothed it out and placed a candle on each of the four corners of the paper. Regina stepped forward. Her eyes roved hungrily over the white, empty paper. She lifted her hands and left them hovering just inches above the white. She was sorely tempted to let them drop and touch the paper but refrained.
Henry scowled at the paper, utterly unimpressed. "It's blank," he stated.
"Yes," Gold said, smiling. "It is." He looked away from the boy and up to Regina. "Do you know how to use it?" he asked her. Regina nodded.
"Indeed. And you are prepared to assist me?"
"I am," Gold confirmed.
"Then let's begin."
"Wait!" Snow called. Regina glared over her shoulder at the woman. "What are you doing?"
"Magic, dear. It will take a while. Do not interrupt. You will stay where you are and you will not touch us or the map." Snow nodded. "No. Say it out aloud. No matter what you see or hear you will not interrupt. You will remain exactly where you are. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Snow answered. David copied his wife after a moment and murmured his agreement. Regina turned her dark eyes on Henry. He bit his lower lip but nodded slowly.
"Just…don't get hurt, mom. Okay?"
Her gaze softened and she bent to kiss him on the forehead. "I'll come back for you, dear." She returned to the parchment. "Gold?" He inclined his head and, watching her, held his hands above the surface. Her hands joined his and their magic came alive around their hands and forearms. Intense frowns furrowed their brows and then, as one, their hands dropped to touch the paper and they were gone, taken away in a flash of white light.
The watchers cried out. David and Henry moved to step forward but Snow held her hand out. "No! Don't interrupt. We promised."
"They're gone, Mary Margaret!" David cried, waving a hand at the space where their companions had been. Snow glanced over, a retort at her lips, and stifled whatever she intended to say. Her eyes widened and she stared at the paper.
The paper, previously blank, was slowly coming alive. In the centre, buildings shot up from the paper. Stores, roads, and the school – she could see everything. There – there was the toll bridge. And over there was the forest. The three Charming's weren't certain quite how long they stood there; all they knew was that they were utterly entranced by the formation of the map. Only when every tiny part of the paper was filled did they begin to worry once more about their missing companions.
A minute passed. And then another. Then five and ten; and Gold and Regina had still not returned. Henry inched forward but Snow snagged his shoulder and pressed down slightly in a silent no. He frowned up at her, questioning the teacher.
"I have broken your mother's trust before, Henry," she whispered. "Not again. Not this time. I will not put you in any danger. I don't know what will happen if you interrupt so don't you dare take a step toward that map."
He nodded and turned his eyes back to the place where Regina had been. He didn't dare blink in case she appeared and disappeared again. Snow's grip relaxed on his shoulder but she kept it there, both as a reassurance and a reminder. Her other hand reached out and, as she knew it would be, her husband's hand was waiting for her. He entwined his fingers with hers and brushed a thumb over the back of her hand, making her relax into his side.
They waited.
If they had not been watching as intently as they were, they would have missed it. Lights flashed, very briefly, over the map. A shimmering light enclosed the boundaries of the forest and the water and the town, signalling the edge of the magical area, of Regina's town. But, of course, they were watching the map intently and they did not miss the lights. And they saw Gold and Regina appear, hands still lightly touching the map, as calm as if they had never disappeared at all.
"Mom!" Henry cried out, his face collapsing into relief. He contained himself with difficulty and swayed in place. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to go to her and intrude on their magic yet.
Regina's hands gave one last little pulse of purple before she removed them from the map. Then she turned, very quickly, and reached out to Henry. Her son barrelled into her and, arms hooked around her waist, didn't let go even as Gold began to address the group and they gathered around the map.
"It worked, as you can see." Gold gestured at the map and Henry hopped onto his tiptoes to see it more easily.
"What is this map?" he asked.
"This map has a very important, very much unpronounceable name," Gold said seriously. His expression broke into a tiny smile. "We in the know," Gold said with a tap to his nose as he winked down at Henry, "call it the True Map."
Regina peered down at the paper, searching through the buildings and trees that had sprouted. Henry gasped with delight. "Mom! You can see everyone."
"Yes Henry," she murmured, not really paying attention. "It's the True Map, sweetie.
Henry let out his breath in a rush. "Awesome."
"It is indeed," Gold said. "And it is also a very useful tool." He leant over the map and frowned, sharp eyes darting across the images. "I cannot see her," he said finally.
"No," Regina agreed softly. "Neither can I."
"You're looking for Ma, right?" The two magic users nodded, not taking their eyes away from the map. "And this is a magic map, right?" They nodded again. "So look for her magic." Gold looked up slowly from the map, raising a brow at Regina.
"You have a very clever son," he commented quietly.
Regina grinned. "Yes. I do." She moved her hand over the map and it seemed to, after a moment of effort, tear itself into two. One image of the map hovered slightly above the other. Above the town was, again, the town but it was ethereal and a very very pale grey. The forest looked much the same, green and pulsing with life. The water by the docks and the earth of the mine glowed with the same energy. And then, in Gold's store, two glowing beacons of light shone. One purple and one a deep red. And, further away, past the docks, past the trees, and so very close to the border of Regina's curse, was a bright purple dot. And, enclosed within that purple, faint and shivering, was a tiny gold light.
"There," Regina and Henry whispered together. "That's her."
"Emma," Snow gasped. "What has Cora done to her?" She reached out but Regina grabbed the woman's wrist before she touched the map. "We have to go to her."
"Oh, yes, what a wonderful idea. Let's just run straight to my mother without a plan and our only weapon the love in our hearts and hope that she won't just kill us all." Regina rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid." She turned to Gold. "Is there a way that we can see them?"
At her word, the image grew and grew until they could clearly see Cora and Emma. Cora's mouth opened and she spoke but they heard nothing. They saw Emma speaking and Regina sighed. She knew that expression. The sheriff was, no doubt, taunting Cora. That would not end well. And, true to form, Cora conjured her magic and they watched as the woman pressed her hands to Emma's shoulders. Emma writhed. Regina covered Henry's eyes.
"We have to do something," David growled.
Gold examined the group. His eyes finally alit on Regina and he looked abruptly concerned. His gaze drifted back to Emma, who spoke defiantly to Cora. He began to speak quickly. "We will have to teleport there – surprise her. Miss Swan may not have much time left." Regina nodded her agreement. "Regina and I will contain Cora and her magic; Mr Nolan, Miss Blanchard, you will have to look after your daughter. Can you do that?" The husband and wife nodded. "Excellent."
Regina fought the fear that rose in her stomach with the ease of years – decades – of practice. She concentrated on the task she had been given but found herself distracted. Her eyes moved without provocation to Emma and took in her defiance, the strength in her that Regina so admired (and yet, had hated so desperately once upon a time) and she felt the little warm hand encased in her own. Henry pressed further into Regina's side.
"Henry," she murmured. "You must stay here."
He only nodded. He knew he couldn't be there – it was far too dangerous. Gold looked down at the boy.
"Would you guard Hook for me?" he asked. Regina saw Henry nod and her son began to reply but whatever he said was blocked as a swirl of gold spun around Regina's head, copied by Emma.
She heard Emma's voice ringing in her ears. "I love them more than anything in the world," she said. Regina could hear the trembling and the undertone of pain that she valiantly tried to disguise. "They are family and there is nothing you can do to take them away from me." And just like that, Regina staggered. Pain roared through her body. Her nerve endings came alive with burning and Regina gasped.
Henry stared, horrified, up at his mother. Her eyes glazed over with purple and she gently released his hand. And then she was gone in a plume of smoke. Gold grabbed Henry by the shoulders and directed him to the back room.
"Stay there, Henry," he ordered. "Do not come outside. Do not follow us. Do you understand?" Henry didn't react, instead staring at the place his mother had been. She had left him. Again. Gold grabbed Henry's chin and forced the boy to look at him. "Henry. Stay here. Do you understand?" The boy nodded. "Good. Good boy. We'll be back soon."
And then they were all gone.
Regina appeared behind Cora and watched as the woman drew her arm back. She reached out and grabbed Cora. Cora turned when her hand encircled her wrist and gaped when she saw that her daughter was there.
Her surprise morphed quickly into delight. "Regina! Darling," she gushed. "You've come to join me." Her face fell slightly and she looked at her daughter with regret. "If only I'd known you were on your way, I would have tried to keep her alive a little longer."
She knew it was a test, a trap. And yet, Regina couldn't stop herself from looking, checking that yes Emma was still alive. And Cora took advantage of her distraction – that split second was all it took. Cora gathered all the power in her form and shoved it in a visceral blow toward Regina.
Regina knew she wouldn't be fast enough to evade the attack but then the wave of energy faltered and shattered, falling to the deck of Hook's skip as shards of ice, quickly melting. The mother and daughter turned to see Gold, hand outstretched, grinning deviously. Snow and David sprinted to their daughter's side; Snow draping a coat over her daughter's naked form and David hacking at the ropes that held her.
"Hello, dearie," he said. He waved his hand and Regina quickly released Cora. Pain tickled Regina's skin where she had touched Cora and she examined the skin but could see no damage. A red barrier swelled, pushing outward from Cora's skin, and Cora shrieked with outrage.
"What do you think you're doing?" she screamed.
"Oh it's nothing," he laughed. "Just a little barrier." He leant it. "Touch it. I dare you." Cora snarled silently at him and he chortled happily. He turned to Regina. "You can leave if you'd like, dearie. Have a nice little reunion with your Saviour. Take her home and patch her up."
"And my mother?" Regina asked.
"She got away from me once, dearie." For a moment, Gold saw the young Cora in front of him, heart quite literally in her hand. The image faded though and he grinned again. "She won't manage a second time."
"Gold. If you kill her," Regina began threateningly.
"Kill her? Oh no – I won't kill her." He flung his hands into the air dramatically. "I am a collector. She'll be in my basement if you need to speak to her. How's that?"
Regina inclined her head. "Very well. Take Charming with you though. I cannot transport three other people and someone needs to bring Henry home." Gold bowed low with a flourish.
"As you command, your Majesty," he said. Snow nodded to David as he murmured reassurances to her – no doubt promises to 'find her' again, though they would only be parted for an hour at the most – and then David was gone in a puff of red, along with Gold and Cora at a click of the imp's fingers.
Regina strode to Emma's side and forced the ropes to release Emma. Blood returned to her wrists and ankles in grossly discoloured patterns and Snow quickly began to rub the bruises, forcing the blood to move to fingers and toes.
Grimacing, Regina laid a hand on Snow's shoulder. She grabbed Emma's hand and ignored the lack of response. She took them back to her mansion, straight into the guest room. Though, really, Emma had spent so much of her time in the guest room lately that Regina might as well admit that it was now 'Emma's room'.
She laid Emma gently on the bed and gestured for the sheets to fold themselves at the bottom of the bed, out of her way. Regina, averting her eyes, magicked a bra and matching underwear onto the blonde. Then she rolled up her sleeves and, when Snow began to hover at her shoulder, Regina conjured a chair on the other side of the bed and deposited Snow in it.
Regina ran a diagnosis spell down Emma's body. When a flurry of magical symbols bombarded her, she held out her hand and flung the doors in her house open, calling her spell books to her. They flew up the stairs from her office and floated beside her. Regina rifled through the pages, muttering to herself, and turning back to Emma. Snow watched her intently, knowing that Regina most likely did not realise that her hair was crackling with energy and that her eyes were flashing between brown and purple.
Under Regina's hands, the bruising faded from Emma's wrists. The handprints on her shoulders, inflamed and weeping, healed over but pink blemishes remained. The cigarette burns returned to raised, but smooth and silvery, scars as they had been before. Snow took the opportunity, as Regina did, to note the scars that traversed Emma's pale skin. A thought occurred to Regina and she levitated Emma, bringing her up. A frown marred Regina's face as she realised that Emma's back was cut open and bleeding. She brought her purple magic to her fingertips and traced each scar, watching as the skin knitted itself together once more. She knew, however, that the scars would remain.
She lowered Emma to the bed again once she was assured that she would feel no more pain than she already did and moved her hands to Emma's abdomen. She shoved more magic into her hands but no matter what she tried, the wounds would not close over.
Snow stood and joined Regina leaning over Emma. She quickly realised, like Regina, that magic was not helping. Regina summoned a wad of bandages from her first aid kit and together she and Snow bound the wounds. They were so absorbed in the healing that they didn't hear the thumping of footsteps. Henry threw open the door and raced in; David was three steps behind.
Three voices shouted out for him to stop but they were unnecessary. Henry came to a stop all by himself when he saw Emma. "Why haven't you healed her yet?" he asked, demanded of her. Regina shot him a glance and shook her head.
"My magic isn't working, Henry," she said. She took in his distressed expression and looked back at Emma, forgetting for the moment that she was her patient. She saw, just for a moment, what he saw.
Blood coated the 'White Knight'. Emma was pale and gaunt and her skin was pulled tight over bunched muscles that hadn't quite relaxed from their ordeals. The burns – the handprints and the little circles – were vivid despite being healed and the bandaged around her stomach were becoming increasingly stained with red.
"Henry," Regina said, "you have to leave." She looked up to David who, without her having to say anything, took her son by the shoulders.
"Come on, kid," he murmured. Regina fought a wince. Like father like daughter, apparently. Both of them seemed utterly incapable of calling Henry by his given name and instead relegated him to the affectionate 'kid'. "Let's leave your mom here with Snow. Give them a bit of time." He clasped Henry's shoulder. "She'll help Emma. You'll see."
Henry looked beseechingly up at his mom. Regina nodded. "I'll do my best," she promised. She didn't give voice to the dark thoughts that were conjured when she recalled the vicious lacerations. My best may not be enough. "I'll do my best," she repeated more forcefully.
Charming met her eyes and nodded, his eyes weary. His shoulders were slightly slumped. He had fought wars before, she remembered. Despite his heritage as a shepherd, that was, he had fought. He had seen wounds like these. He knew that she would more likely not recover.
"Please mom," Henry whispered. "Please don't let my Ma die."
His quiet 'Ma' forced a reaction from Emma. The woman groaned, her back arching as her limbs tensed and pushed. Regina's eyes widened. She flung a hand out, purple shimmering around it, towards Emma and halted all of the woman's movements.
"David, I need you to take Henry. Now." She didn't look away from Emma. There was a slight scuffle and Snow moved to join David in grabbing hold of Henry, who wriggled and fought, scratching at his grandparents, trying to get to his mothers. Finally, they forced Henry out of the room and David went with him. Snow closed the door and pressed her back against the word. She tried in vain to block her ears to Henry's screams, his pleadings to be allowed back in. Fingers scrabbled at the door and David's soft voice murmured ceaselessly to Henry as he tugged him away and into Henry's own room.
Snow slumped against the door. Regina sent soothing waves of energy through Emma's body, hoping to balance out the tremors and make them stop. Snow watched her actions with sad eyes.
"You can't save her, can you?" she realised.
"Even magic has its limits, Snow," Regina said quietly. "I cannot conquer death."
"But she isn't dead," Snow reminded her. She moved to the bed and watched the rise and fall of Emma's chest to remind herself of that fact. "She isn't dead, Regina."
"No," Regina acknowledged. "But close enough. The dagger my mother used was cursed. I cannot heal her. I can't do anything about it." She tore her hands away from Emma and turned away. Snow saw her hands shaking at her sides and she took one gently. She took the hand of the woman who had once been her greatest enemy and, surprisingly, Regina did not make any move to take her hand away. She did, however, make every effort not to look at their linked hands.
"I watched my mother die," Snow murmured to Regina. Her eyes became slightly unfocused as she remembered that horrible night. It had been so abrupt, so awful, and she'd suppressed the memory as well as she could. "I could have saved her. The Blue Fairy offered me a candle," she confessed. "It was black. No – half black and half white. It would have saves my mother. That's what she told me.
"Then why didn't you?" Regina asked. "Why didn't you save her?" Her tone was as cold as it ever was with Snow, but it lacked any bite, any sting, and Snow looked down at Emma.
"To save a life, I had to take a life. The candle required a sacrifice."
Regina's brows snapped down into a deep frown. "That is very dark magic," she said. "You are sure that it was the Blue Fairy?"
"Who else could it have been?" Snow asked, shrugging delicately.
Regina shook her head, pondering the offer the fairy had made. "I don't know," she said softly. And then, as if realising that she was speaking peaceably with her enemy, she sneered, needing to make her admission of ignorance somehow not weak, not helpless. "Do you still have the candle?"
Snow shook her head. "No. I couldn't do it. Even having it was wrong. I didn't take it."
"Poor Snow," Regina jeered. "How can you believe that you are pure of heart if you stood by and watching your own mother die? You could have helped her. You could have saved her life." Regina's eyes darkened and her nails dug suddenly into Snow's skin. "Like you could have kept your mouth shut about Daniel. But you killed him as surely as you failed your mother," she snarled. Regina ripped her hand out of Snow's and stepped away. She moved to the other side of Emma's bed.
Snow glared over her daughter at the mayor. "Poor Regina," she shot back. "So deluded. You can't even see that you constantly blame innocent people for things that aren't their fault. Your mother destroys everything that you love but you want so desperately for her to actually love you that you make it out to be everyone else's fault."
"It was your fault!" Regina screamed. "You promised me! You promised me that you wouldn't tell her!"
"I was ten years old," Snow growled. "She tricked me. I thought she loved you and I was wrong." Snow blinked away sudden tears. "I was wrong and I am so, so sorry."
"Keep your sorrys," Regina spat. Snow continued.
"Why won't you understand that she has hurt you, Regina? Why can't you see what I see?"
"Because!" Regina threw up her hands in futile desperation, hoping that the forceful action would bring her some relief from the turmoil she felt. "Because…" She closed her eyes. "Because if she doesn't love me then I endured all that pain for what?" She laughed bitterly. "If she doesn't love me then…" She snapped for mouth shut. "It doesn't matter."
"It does, Regina." Never in her life would Snow have expected to say those words to Regina. "You matter."
"It doesn't," Regina insisted. She forced cruelty back into the sharp lines of her face. "Daniel dying was your fault, Snow, and you must accept that as I had to accept that the girl I had to pretend to love killed the one person who loved me back." She shot a scornful look at Emma. "And Miss Swan was a fool to let Cora hurt her."
"You can't seriously be blaming Emma for this," Snow huffed, disbelieving. She waved at her daughter, at the injuries and the trembling, and shook her head. "Your mother did this to her, Regina." She fixed Regina with her gaze. "There is no one else to blame for this."
"Actually, I can and do blame Miss Swan. She wilfully seeks out trouble. It's almost ridiculous how much danger she manages to attract. She is supposed to be the Saviour – not the Girl Who Keeps Being Hurt and Almost Dying."
"I think they sort of go hand in hand, actually," interjected David. The women turned to him and he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He strode to Emma's side and, noting no difference in her condition, laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. He looked up after a moment and glanced between the women. He stood slowly. "Now that you are done fighting, why don't we focus on what is more important right now." David nodded down to his daughter and Snow looked away from Regina, shame faced, and knelt by Emma.
"Snow, do you know where the candle is?" His wife shook her head no. "And Regina, can you heal Emma?" The once-Queen mimicked Snow, shaking her head. The desperation, masterfully hidden, plucked at her heartstrings. "Well." He bolstered himself with some hidden reserve of hope and nodded again. "Okay. Then I suggest we visit Gold again. He has an immense collection of the lost objects of our world. If we ask him to help-"
"He will charge some horrendous price and make deal for our souls."
"No price is too high, Regina," David said. "She is my daughter."
"So if he demanded your life, you would give it?" Regina asked derisively.
"Yes." David squared his shoulders. "If that was the cost, I would gladly lay down my life for her. I did once before or don't you recall?" Haunting memories played in front of his eyes – in another room, in another life, of a baby clutched in his arms and swords piercing his flesh. He smiled sadly. "I would do so for all of time to save my daughter."
"David," Snow breathed. Her face crumpled in pain at the thought of losing her husband, and wonderment at his pronouncement.
"Oh for Christs sake," Regina muttered. She rolled her eyes. "It was hypothetical, Snow. Your husband isn't going anywhere." The two of them, Snow and Charming, linked hands and staring lovingly into each others eyes. Regina groaned, disgusted. Their love was positively sickening.
"Wouldn't you do the same for Emma?" David asked. He turned from his wife to observe Regina. "You've changed, Regina and we see that. So tell me honestly – if the price was your life for Emma's, would you pay it?"
Regina opened her mouth, intent on shooting him down. What a ridiculous notion, her mind said. Of course I wouldn't. What would you make you even consider that? But she said nothing. Instead, she just looked at David. She was unable to make her mouth say the words her mind was spitting out. Her gaze wavered slightly.
Snow gasped. "Oh my god." Regina snapped her eyes to look at the younger woman. "Oh my god," she said again. "You would."
"Henry loves her," Regina said through stiff lips. The denial - she wouldn'tdo such a ridiculous thing as sacrifice herself for Swan - was not forthcoming. Snow and David just looked at her with knowing eyes and she scowled. She shook her head free of the questions – her own questions – and glared at the pair.
"You think that Gold might have the candle," she asked David. He nodded. "Very well then." She drew herself up tall and let her purple smoke gather. The tendrils of smoke gambolled and bunched around her feet affectionately. "Charming," she drawled, "if my son has run away since you left him, I hold you personally responsible for any harm that may befall him." Regina smirked when David paled and sprinted from the room. She turned to Snow but let her eyes move past the woman and linger on Emma's still form. Well, mostly still – tremors still rocked her body, an after effect from the sheer amount of energy that Cora had sent through her.
"Don't let her die while I'm gone," she commanded Snow. Regina moved to Emma's side and crouched next to her. The bleeding wounds worried her. She brushed an errant curl from Emma's forehead and let her fingertips pass over Emma's temple. She bent down and moved her lips close to Emma's ear. "Don't die or I will never forgive you," she hissed to the unconscious woman.
At that point, the smoke engulfed her figure and in the next instant she was gone.
Gold greeted her calmly and reasonably amicably when she appeared in his basement. "Regina." He gestured behind her. "Your mother, safe and sound as I promised." Regina spared the woman a single glance but nothing more.
"She hasn't been sound for decades," she murmured. He inclined his head but made no further comment. "I require assistance once more," she said. "Miss Swan's wounds have proven…resistant to healing."
"Yes," Gold said, plucking the dark blade from the table next to him. He was careful not to cut himself as he handled it and passed it to Regina. "It's cursed," he warned. She nodded and sent her magic through the blade but discerned nothing from it. The curse appeared invisible. She clenched her jaw and, as careful as Gold had been, returned the dagger to the man.
"She is dying," she admitted. "And I have reason to believe that you have an object that may help us to save her."
Mr Gold's eyes brightened and he bowed slightly, holding out his hand. "An object? That is something I may help with. Right this way," he ushered her. They climbed the stairs and he led her into the store proper. "What can I get for you?"
"When Snow White was young, she was presented with a candle." A glimmer of recognition shone in Gold's eyes. She didn't bother to hide her desperation. "You know of it." He inclined his head slowly.
"I have it," he said. His voice was low and grave.
"And does it work like I was told?" He raised his brows silently, prompting her to tell him the information she had been given. "To save a life I must take a life?"
"Yes. That is how it works. You take the candle and light it at both ends. Hold it over the heart of your sacrifice and whisper their name. Hold the name of the one you wish to save in your mind and blow out the candle."
A silence fell between the two and Regina let out her breath. "That is not something that the Blue Fairy would give to Snow," Regina commented quietly.
"No. It is not."
"Who gave it to her?" Regina questioned fiercely.
"Cora." Regina pulled away slightly but otherwise showed no outward sign of shock. Within her body, however, her heart pounded and her stomach revolted and an icy chill crept up her spine. Cora offered Snow the candle? But that meant that she knew that Snow's mother was dying – which, Regina realised, meant that it was more than likely that Cora had caused the woman's death. But this meant little at this point. Regina had a duty.
"I need it." Regina forced the words out. Every part of her rebelled against the thought of needing something of her mothers – needing something that her mother had used roughly equalled becoming her mother. And that was something Regina had always sworn never to become. "Emma is dying."
"So you said," Gold murmured. "So you said." He moved slowly to his left, opening a cabinet and withdrawing a nondescript box. He laid it gently on the bench between them and rested a hand on the lid. He frowned. "This is a dark magic, Regina," Gold cautioned. "You remember the consequences?"
For once, Gold seemed to actually care about the repercussions – care for Regina – and Regina blinked. This world, his curse, truly had changed them and perhaps more than either she or Gold had reckoned.
"I am aware of the consequences." She moved toward the box and his hand tightened upon it. "What is your price?"
Gold looked down at the box. He patted it once before shoving it toward her. "For this, I have no price. Consider it a freebie," he said lightly. His eyes belayed the levity of the situation though, grave and concerned.
"Don't worry for me," Regina told him. "My heart is as black as can be. Your curse saw to that."
"Perhaps," he acknowledged. Mr Gold took her by the wrist when she reached for the box. "Regina," he cautioned again. "Be very sure that this is what you want."
"I have no choice," she said.
"There is always a choice."
"Is there?" She laughed harshly. "I see no alternative. If I do this, she is saved. If I do not," she shrugged. "Too much would be lost if we lost her."
Gold loosened his grip and leant back. "Very well then. The course is set." He allowed himself a smile. "The Evil Queen saves the Saviour. Ironic, isn't it?"
"Save it, Rumple. I'm saving Henry's mother." She grimaced. "Everything else that she is – Snow's daughter, the Saviour – it's just a distraction." She lifted the box and peeked inside, running her eyes over the candle. She turned to leave and Gold raised a hand, causing her to halt as she watched him.
"You need a heart," he reminded her.
Regina smiled. She clutched the box tighter to her chest and turned back to face him fully. "I know," she said sadly. She brought to the forefront of her mind an image of her mother and immediately felt a tugging on her navel. Two separate tugs, to be precise. She ignored the stronger pull, recognising that it led down into Gold's basement, and sent herself along the second, weaker tug.
She appeared in the hold of Hook's vessel. Around her, glowing brightly, hearts thumped and strummed in time with her magic. She ignored them. She moved the box holding the candle to her left hand and let her free hand drift over the boxes, over the hearts, until it stopped abruptly. This one, her magic hummed. This one is hers.
She slid the box from its home and walked slowly to the bunk. She laid both boxes gently on the mattress and knelt on the floor. Regina took the box holding her mothers heart and, closing her eyes, undid the catch. She reached out. Her hands trembled and Regina sucked in a quick breath, berating herself for her hesitance. She slipped her hands into the box and fitted them snugly around the heart within. She pulled it out. It was cold and heavy in her hands. She opened her eyes.
She paused.
Stopped.
Looked at the black lump in her hands. Searched for the flickering of red deep within the dark heart; felt the distant thump of something alive hidden far beneath the cold outer shell. Her thumb drifted over the surface of her mother's heart soothingly. She bent her head before the undeniable truth.
Her mother had ripped her heart from her own chest long ago, so long ago, and she had never truly loved Regina. Regina shifted the heart so it rested in one hand and blindly felt for the candle box, taking out the wax stick. With a flicker of a thought, the ends of the candle were lit. She held it over the heart.
"Cora," she whispered. The name stuck in her throat and she swallowed. She found a sliver of strength and said it again. "Cora." It was done. She couldn't take it back. She had cursed her mother's heart. And then, recalling Gold's instructions, Regina forced herself to think of Emma. Vibrant, larger than life Emma, who fought and swore and ate an incredible amount of sickening foods. Emma, she thought. She blew out the candle and, laying it back in its box, she took a moment to cradle the heart in her hands. She held it with immeasurable tenderness and then, once again following the tugging, went to her mother.
Cora turned to her. Regina pressed the heart against Cora's chest and watched as her hand sunk into her mother's torso. Her heart slotted into place and Regina held it for a moment longer, feeling warmth flood the organ. Cora's eyes lit up with love and tenderness and warmth and she reached out to Regina. Regina accepted the hug, wrapping her arms around her mother for the first time, and held her until she was still and cold in her arms.
Hey – review, please. Let me know what you thought and what you would like to see next. I hope you all enjoyed it – but not too much because that was super sad for me to write and I hope that you didn't enjoy poor Regina's heartache. I hope you enjoyed the chapter though. Happy reading, readers :)