DISCLAIMER: I do not dare claim any ownership for the fabulous characters, situations, plots and/or spins on old stories that ABC's geniuses have given us on Once Upon a Time.

This is a what-if story: The way I figure, something DID jog his memory that night in the pawn shop…but it wasn't the windmill…

In the shadow of the toll bridge

Assembling

"So?" Snow leaned back from the large table at which the group was seated, "what do you think?"

James looked pensively at his wife before responding. They were gathered at one of the garage's work tables. Marco was beside Thomas on one side while the girls sat on the other. James was leaning against the back door with one leg crossed over the other ankle directly behind Thomas's chair. "Well it's…risky," he said.

"Very risky," Thomas added, leaning forward and looking over to Belle. "And if this doctor who saw you there isn't…friendly, I don't think we can afford to wait until Thursday."

"No," James shook his head, "that's not the risky part. It actually makes a lot of sense to wait for the tree lighting. Everyone will be over at the emporium. Including the queen. That probably means less staff and less security on Thursday night—"

"But that doesn't mean they won't do something to Adam or-or move him somewhere in the meantime," the young prince argued. "We need to move on this today."

"If they haven't gotten rid of him by this point, Thomas, it's a safe bet they don't know how," Snow replied. "We all know that Circe's curse left Adam with some…advantages."

"Are you willing to risk her happy ending on that?" Thomas snapped, pointing his finger across the table at Belle who shifted uncomfortably.

"Hey," James placed his hand on Thomas's shoulder, concerned about his young friend's sudden impatience. "It's better than her marching back in there today after they just turned her down for a job."

"Could you all stop talking about me like I'm not in the room?" Rose said, splaying her palm in the center of the table as she glanced between the two men. "Believe me," she said to Thomas. "There's nothing I wanna do more than go right back in there and get some answers." She leaned back and took a deep breath. "But Mary—Snow is right. This way is…better. And if what you're all telling me is true, and this man really is…my husband," she ignored the flushed warmth in her cheeks as she said it, "then I don't want to take any chances."

The group fell silent, each one privately considering the plan's possible flaws. Thomas's leg for some reason wouldn't stop bouncing up and down, and Marco looked quite worried. But it was James's doubts that bothered Snow the most. "What?" she glared up at him, calling his attention back from his distant gaze.

He frowned, choosing his words carefully. "It's just…dangerous, Snow. Getting answers is one thing. But breaking a man out of a secure wing with only you and Belle on the inside, not to mention your injury—"

"It won't just be us though. I told you, Grumpy—"

"Isn't awake yet. He isn't even close."

"So? Neither is Marco," Snow raised her voice, gesturing toward the craftsman. She turned to him sympathetically, "no offense."

Marco chuckled. "None taken."

"Well that settles it then," Thomas kicked back from the table with an exasperated sigh. "We should just tell Grumpy too…we're telling everyone else!" His voice was tight and clipped. James shot him a look that went ignored.

"We could but we won't have to," Snow insisted. "I don't think we have a prayer of waking the dwarves unless we get them all together in one spot, and we still have no idea where Bashful is. But 'Leroy' is every bit the grouch that Grumpy was. He'll go along with it just to cause trouble."

"Still," James began again, "I'd feel better if you two weren't going in alone—"

"And I'd feel better if you could all pick a slightly less obvious spot for a powwow!"

The group collectively spun around to see Deputy Swan standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she had a set of keys dangling from beneath her wrist.

"Emma!" Snow cried, unable to keep from grinning as wide and goofy as Henry had that morning.

Thomas and Marco were both immediately on their feet and James moved around the table to greet her. "Believe me, we didn't plan it this way," he said, motioning for her to step down into the garage and join them. She met him halfway into the workroom and James made immediately as if he were going to pull her into a hug. She moved too, but at the last minute hesitated. Awkwardly she reached for him, then stopped, shifted to his side and ended up sort of half hugging half clapping him on the back. He smiled at her warmly though, and seemed not to mind her reluctance as they turned to join the rest of the group. She looked down, a bit flushed, as she reached the table, wishing she had just gone ahead and hugged him. She certainly wanted to. Since texting him that morning, she had so been looking forward to meeting up with her father over at the garage and, well…talking shop. But the presence of so many other people here threw her a bit, and the newness of suddenly finding herself with parents – and not just parents, but loving and devoted parents who had never intended to abandon her – still clashed with that tough exterior she'd clung to over the past two decades. She glanced over at Snow, who was also smiling, and the expression in her mother's face shone with such understanding that Emma instantly felt better.

"How are you?" she asked Snow, glancing down at the ankle cast.

"Just fine," Snow replied, still beaming. "Released this morning."

It was then that Emma noticed Sean Herman standing across from her as well as the quiet brunette seated beside her mother. "Sean?" she asked, darting her gaze between her parents as she offered the young man her hand. She hadn't seen Sean since the day she'd accosted him on his doorstep and guilted him into helping his pregnant girlfriend.

Thomas stepped around Belle's chair and shook her hand. "It's actually Thomas," he said, "good to see you again, Deputy."

"Thomas," Emma repeated slowly, "right." Bits of information from yesterday's ride back to town in Archie's jalopy were coming back to her. "And Ashley is really—"

"Ella," James finished for her, glancing over at Thomas. "As in, Cinderella."

Thomas grimaced slightly, but didn't object. After all, that was the name with which most of this blasted world was familiar, Emma included. Though Thomas really couldn't fathom why so many fictional incarnations of his bride willingly went by the name that her stepsisters had contrived to mock her.

"And this is Rose," Snow leaned forward in her chair, gesturing toward Belle. "Though that's not what we used to call her," she added with a wink.

Emma looked down. "Emma Swan," she said shaking the woman's hand. "What'd they used to call you?"

Rose glanced around the table, still feeling keenly the pressure of living up to this new identity. "Belle," she said quietly.

Emma's eyes widened. Belle. As in Beauty and the Beast? She'd seen the film of course as a kid and was familiar with the tale. For some reason, this revelation seemed stranger than discovering Snow White was her mother. How many other famous fables lay dormant in this town? Were there any fairy tales characters left who weren't real? "Nice to meet you," she said, recovering. "I take it you know about…all of this?"

"Know, yes. But…like Marco I…don't remember."

She nodded, feeling strangely akin to this new member of 'Operation Cobra.' After all, she looked as shell shocked as Emma had felt yesterday. "Well," she pulled back, surveying the group and taking a deep breath. "Graham's back."

This was news for everyone except James who had of course learned a bit from their texts that morning.

"As in Sheriff Graham?"

"Did you find anything out?"

"Can you tell if anything happened to him?"

The questions came rapidly, one after another, but all basically pondered the same thing: where had Graham really been in the last two days…and was there a chance that the Zimmer children were with him.

"I don't know," Emma was saying as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other. She'd relayed her entire conversation with Graham that morning, filling in the blanks about Ava, Nicolas and Michael Tillman for the others along the way. "If he saw anything, I don't think he knows he saw it. He's got a perfect alibi to account for every minute of the last few days," she paused and looked over to her father, "and I'm sure he thinks he's telling the truth."

James nodded, understanding better than anyone what it meant to have Emma's trust. "Well it's a safe bet that he didn't actually make it to Boston."

"But that he so firmly believes he did makes me think that Regina somehow altered his memory again, just like she did to all of us," said Snow, shifting slowly out of her chair to retrieve her crutches.

"Whoa, hey. Where are you going?" Emma said, rushing over to her mother.

"To go talk to Graham," Snow said matter-of-factly, positioning the crutches under her arms.

"Why?"

"To see what else I can find out."

"Snow—" James followed her as the group collectively made their way toward the short hallway which led back to the front lobby of Collodi's.

"If Emma asks him any more questions herself, he'll get suspicious," Snow continued to stride toward the doorway, "but if I show up as a friend, independent of Emma then—"

"Miss Blanchard," the group heard as they started to emerge from the garage into the main entrance.

The blood in Snow's veins turned to ice as Emma reached back and clasped tightly to her wrist. Regina had just entered the shop…with her adopted son in tow.

James reacted first while the two women were halted in the doorway. Belle and Thomas were still trailing behind them and couldn't yet be seen by the mayor. James snapped his fingers and waved them off. Thomas immediately pulled Belle back into the garage. The younger prince understood that Regina seeing both him and Belle could make this poorly timed discovery of the 'Charming Family' all together at Collodi's look even worse.

"Regina," Snow finally replied, pushing herself out into the vestibule with her daughter close behind.

"I didn't know you had been released yet," Regina said as she observed both Mary Margaret and Emma emerge from the back room.

"Hi Miss Blanchard! Hi Emma!" said Henry cheerfully from the queen's shadow. Then he winked, and despite Emma's surge of hatred for the woman standing there with her son, Emma smiled.

"Hi Henry," she said.

"I'm glad to see you recovering so quickly, Mary Margaret," Regina said in short clipped tones and narrowed her glare as she watched James emerging behind them. "How odd though that you're…here, and not at home resting."

Snow recovered seamlessly. "I just wanted to stop by and thank Mr. Nolan and Miss Swan for their help. I was on my way to see Dr. Hopper after this."

"Well isn't that funny," Regina replied, though her tone betrayed the fact that she found nothing of the sight before her the least bit funny. "I came by to…thank Mr. Nolan as well."

…

From beyond the garage door, Thomas stood pressed against the corridor wall while Belle huddled close beside him. He strained his neck, trying to determine if the queen sounded suspicious – though Thomas couldn't imagine her not being suspicious. James, Snow and Emma all coming out of the back room of Geppetto's shop so soon after having all disappeared from town? Even if the queen hadn't yet figured out who Emma was, she'd have to be pretty thick not to suspect that something of her precious curse was amiss.

"What is she saying?" Belle hissed behind him, and only then did Thomas notice how tightly he was squeezing her wrist.

He loosened his nervous grasp. "She's congratulating James for his heroics," he muttered; then he listened a bit longer. "She's…gonna give him some sort of award…at the tree lighting." He strained his neck to listen. "A…key to the city," he added. But just then, something arrested his attention away from the lobby, and he and Belle whirled around, staring at heavy metal knob jiggling erratically at the back door. Belle gasped as Thomas moved toward, but before he could reach it, the metal lock clicked and the door cracked open.

Thomas, expecting it now to be Leroy returning from Marco's errand, was about to shush the scruffy mechanic upon his entrance, so he was quite unprepared for the rather fit young man who walked in the door, his dusty brown hair hanging slightly in front of his face.

"Easy, your Highness," the man whispered with a grin, holding his hands up to show that he was not a threat.

Thomas blinked, gaping at the man who looked vaguely familiar but whom he could not place. He glanced at Belle, who shrugged with equal confusion, and then looked back at the one who had called him Highness. "Do I know you?"

The man closed the door quietly and shook his head. "No Sir," he muttered, "but I know of you. My cousins served you and your father for many years."

"Thomas," Belle urged, "who is—"

But the man put a silencing finger to his lips and shook his head, pointing back toward the lobby and motioning for them to resume their eavesdropping. "It's all right, I'm a friend," he whispered. "We'll explain in a minute." He nodded toward the lobby entrance and added with another grin, "help's on the way."

…

"That's really not necessary, Mayor Mills," James was assuring Regina in his very best I'm-trying-to-stay-calm-here-but-I'm-afraid-any-mi nute-my-wife-OR-my-daughter-will-gouge-your-eyes-o ut voice.

"Nonsense, David. What you and Dr. Hopper did—"

"And Emma," Snow insisted harshly, standing beside the fuming deputy and giving her a squeeze of the wrist.

"Of course," Regina said through gritted teeth. "As I mentioned yesterday in front of City Hall, we are certainly fortunate to have Miss Swan working for the sheriff's office."

Henry stifled a grin, enjoying the confrontation far more than any of its participants. He could feel the resentment from his evil stepmother through her tight grip on his shoulder; it was as if she could barely stomach having to give credit to his birth mother in front of him.

But Regina maintained her composure and cleared her throat. "We will of course be rewarding the Deputy with a commendation—"

"Don't worry about it," Emma muttered.

"But Miss Swan was simply doing her duty," she turned back to David, "whereas you and Archie went well above and beyond. A small town like this loves a good Samaritan."

"Hmmph," Snow spat, crossing her arms. "So Emma is less of a hero just because she's a deputy? If that isn't the—"

"It's ok, Sn— Mary Margaret," Emma covered her blunder. Dammit! she thought to herself. She'd grown so quickly accustomed to calling her mother by her real name, she hadn't really trained herself yet to shift back and forth when needed.

The three 'charmings' held their breath as they studied the queen who stared between all of them with equal suspicion. Had she heard? Did she suspect? Were they all about to be royally screwed?'

"David!" cried a voice as a woman burst through Collodi's glass doors.

Snow, Emma and Regina all gaped as Kathryn came rushing to James's side and threw her arms around him. "Oh, sweetheart isn't it wonderful?" she exclaimed, planting a big old kiss on the mouth of a slightly bewildered prince.

"Kathryn," Regina spluttered as she finally relaxed her grip on Henry and approached the counter, "what are you—"

"Oh Regina, I'm sorry," replied the blonde as she affectionately ruffled James's hair. "I just came from Archie's office and he told me all about the—" she stopped herself, threw her hand up in front of her mouth in surprise and bugged her eyes out. "Oh dear, did I ruin it? Have you told him yet?"

Regina shook her head. "No, you didn't ruin it, but I don't see—"

"A key to the city, sweetheart. Can you believe it?" she cried turning fully to her pretend husband once more. James, who had by now caught on, smiled broadly and pulled Abigail to him, wrapping his arms affectionately around her middle and drawing her into a deep kiss.

Regina stood there…gaping, as did Emma, Snow and Henry who were all far too stunned by the rapidly changing state of things at Collodi's to do anything other than gawk.

James finally pulled away from her and allowed her to hitch herself onto his arm before turning to the mayor. "I guess that settles it, Regina," he said with a grin, patting Abigail's hand with his own. "It would be an honor to accept the award at the tree ceremony." He glanced lovingly at Abigail and added, "as long as my wife can be by my side."

Henry was absolutely beside himself, and anxiously rushed forward to put an end to this madness. What was Pops doing? Had he somehow reverted? He gulped hard, trying to force down the gigantic lump that had formed in his throat as he opened his mouth to speak, but just then Emma's hand clamped over the back of his neck and stopped him. He looked up, and his mother shook her head at him, keeping him for the moment by her side.

"Kathryn," Regina cleared her throat as she approached the seemingly happy couple and drew her friend away from him. "It's um…it's wonderful to see you so…happy about this. But," she dropped her voice as low as it would go, but it was a small lobby so Emma overhead anyway. "I thought you two were…I mean, I thought we talked about—"

"Oh those rumors? Oh, Regina I'm so glad you mentioned that," Abigail replied, leaving her side and walking over to a very confused Snow White. "All a misunderstanding. You were such a good friend to warn me, Regina, but it turns out that all our worrying was for nothing."

Out of sheer curiosity and bewilderment, Snow allowed herself to be led by the hand of the blonde tart that had just been slobbering all over her husband to stand in front of Regina. But at that moment, she caught James's eye and read in the look all she needed to see: he would explain later (he better explain later); for now, she must play along.

"Mary Margaret and David got to be very good friends. I just didn't know how good until I confronted them about it," she gave Snow's elbow an affectionate squeeze. "It turns out, she was helping him surprise me for our anniversary!"

"Your anniversary?" Regina cried. "But Kathryn…dear, that's in March."

Abigail scoffed and rolled her eyes so comically, James had to stifle a guffaw. "Not our wedding anniversary!" she glanced back at James. "The anniversary of the day we met." She turned back to Snow who had plastered a smile across her face. "Miss Blanchard helped him plan the most romantic picnic. He was going to surprise me with it the night he disappeared. I'm so glad you're ok, Mary Margaret. It…it gives me a chance to say thank you."

"Oh Kathryn, it was my pleasure," she managed, gulping a bit on the words, but flashing the room a warm smile to help progress the deception.

The two women looked back to a now thoroughly perplexed Regina, who in turn studied them carefully, looking from one to the other and back again. Finally, the slightly greenish tint to Snow's cheeks gave her the satisfaction she needed. Perhaps she was aware. Perhaps she hadn't imagined that Emma almost called her 'Snow', but this – she watched as Kathryn returned to her charming husband and kissed him again – this was better. It clearly pained the white wench to look at 'David' and 'Kathryn' together. This was suffering enough for the time being, and she turned to retrieve Henry from the deputy with a satisfied grunt. "Well then, I will see both of you at the tree lighting at 7:30 sharp. Come on Henry," she yanked the boy away from his birth mother and trotted him toward the door. Before she left, she paused and looked back to Snow. "You certainly have a way of bringing people together, Mary Margaret," she sneered. "Isn't it wonderful to see true love win out?"

Snow offered a weak smile before mayor and son departed. The room was sort of halted like a museum shadow box, everyone waiting as Regina's car pulled away from the shop. Then James and Abigail turned to each other…and burst out laughing.

"Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Snow demanded, leaning forward on her crutches in such a way that suggested she might easily pick them up and use them as weapons.

"Yeah, what was that?" Emma agreed, coming to stand by her mother.

James recovered from his hysterics, stepped to the side of his fake wife and gestured in the guise of a game show emcee. "Princess Abigail, ladies and gentlemen," he announced, making an exaggerated bow as Thomas and Belle finally emerged, their own mystery guest in tow. The young brown-haird man sidled past the two princes and and joined Abigail at the counter, slinging his arm around her shoulder and kissing her squarely on the lips.

"We heard everything, Pretty Girl," said Frederick. "You were brilliant."

"Who the hell is that?" Emma shouted, thrusting her forefinger at the strange man, wondering just how many more surprises there were in store for today.

"Rick?" Snow asked of the man as James came to stand by her. Just what was Henry's gym teacher doing at Collodi's? (Although seeing 'Kathryn' kissing someone who was not James instantly improved her mood). "What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story, Your Highness," replied the knight, who threaded Abigail's arm through his own.

Snow, surprised but pleased to be addressed in the old ways, glanced up at her husband. "I gathered that much."

"It is a long story," James nodded, sweeping his gaze around the room. His eyes landed on Thomas who was braced against the wall near the garage door, arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. "So let's not delay the telling of it."

…

Abigail was practically in tears when she finished her story, seated once more at the round table in the garage. It clearly pained her to have to relive, for the second time today, the horrific memories of Regina ripping out her heart and forcing her to betray her lover and her friends. However the presence of Frederick, her true betrothal at her side, made this second telling far more bearable. And in the end, most of the room was in hysterics after over the farcical performance she'd just given as the doting Mrs. Nolan. Why she'd been so convincing, even James had been fooled.

"I believe you missed your calling, Abigail," James said, rising from the table to retrieve a cup of coffee from the small pot on the work bench. "You might have had a brilliant career on the stage."

Abigail laughed as she reached for and clasped Frederick's hand on top of the table.

"So after you and James saw Archie this morning," Emma leaned forward in her chair, pointing at the couple, "you went straight to the school?"

Again, she chuckled, beaming at her beau. "More like sprinted."

"How did you know Frederick was there?"

"I ran into her there yesterday, actually," the knight answered. "I didn't know who she was then, of course. She was looking for you," he nodded to Snow.

Snow shook her head, torn between relief upon discovering that 'Kathryn Nolan' was now and ally and fury for having yet another reason to despise her stepmother. Was nothing sacred to that woman? Was there anything she wouldn't destroy for the sake of her own twisted revenge? Vengeance for a wrongly perceived injustice committed by an 8-year-old girl? She glanced over at her daughter, who had been rather quiet save for a few smart questions, and knew she was thinking the same thing: how much longer would it be before Regina's crusade threatened Henry? She shook her head and turned back to Abigail. "I take it Regina planted some idea about 'David' and I having an affair?"

Abigail nodded. "That's why I went to the school yesterday. I was going to confront you but," she squeezed his hand again. "Frederick found me first."

"Yeah, then she found me today and cornered me in the equipment closet until I…woke up," the noble knight added with a sly grin.

"And now Regina thinks you and James are happy little homemakers again," Belle added, putting the pieces together as she sorted through the events of the day. "Smart."

"We thought so," the blonde concurred, glancing up at James.

But the prince had stepped away from the table and had walked over to Thomas who stood glaring at Operation Cobra's newest members from afar. As the group continued chatting, James settled beside his friend, mimicking his stance by crossing his arms over his own chest and leaning his back against the door.

"I wanna tell her," Thomas mumbled, in a voice meant only for James to hear.

James nodded. "Ella?" he said, though the confirmation was unnecessary. He'd sensed his friend's mounting frustration from the moment he'd learned about Abigail this morning.

"Give me one good reason not to," Thomas replied, not taking his eyes off the table. "I mean, look at how many people know, James. Look how many people believe without even remembering."

Again, he nodded. "That's true."

Thomas huffed. "But you don't think I should, do you," he said, and it wasn't a question.

James shook his head. "I honestly don't know." He gestured back to the table where Geppetto was assuming his rightful role as sage when talk turned to plans for Belle and Snow at the tree lighting. "Marco and Archie were just…looking after Henry at first. They happened to stumble across some pretty serious magic that couldn't be explained any other way. Belle?" he pointed at the brunette. "She's having visions of Adam. Dreams of a man she's never met before and she needed answers." With a heavy sigh, he turned to his friend. "But you tell me. Has Ella said or done anything to suggest that she needs…answers?"

Wishing like hell that James would stop making so much damn sense, Thomas slid his eyes shut. He thought for a moment and then remembered something. "She called me 'highness' yesterday," he said, his eyes flying open with a jolt of hope.

"She did?"

"Yeah she was teasing me and said…well she said something," he muttered, deciding to maintain a little privacy. "Something she also said to me on our wedding night. As Ella. She laughed it off of course. Said she didn't know where it came from, but she's in there, James. I know she is."

James placed a hand on his shoulder. "Of course she's in there. No one is doubting that. The question is…is it right to try and force her out?"

They fell silent for the moment. Something Marco had just said at the table had the rest of the group laughing, but Thomas was not the least bit curious about what it was. He'd struggled for hours with this frustration, this envy. He knew on some level it was childish. That he should be happy so many people were now either awake or at least aware, that the balance of power in Storybrooke was shifting to the side of good. But in seeing Snow reunited with James and Abigail with Frederick, Thomas felt far more acutely the pain of his Ella still asleep in the curse. "A few days ago, I might've said no," he answered softly. "But not anymore, James." He turned to face his friend fully. "I'm sorry, I know you want me to be…patient. But let's face it. Things are a lot different now than they were the first night we met at Garcon's." James looked down and nodded, knowing there was no argument there. Things were certainly different. "Your plan's a good one, but with everything happening, we've barely gotten started on it."

"I know," James insisted. "Believe me, I had no idea that—"

"And I'm not blaming you," Thomas said firmly. "I mean with Jefferson kidnapping Snow and you saving Emma, and Belle and Adam, and now Abigail? It's been crazy around here, I get that. I haven't even started working on my father yet. But especially with so many people now threatening the curse…" he paused and took a deep breath, afraid to voice the next part, though feeling it no less keenly, "…you and I both know Regina will never allow us to get as far as a wedding."

James cringed at the thought, but didn't argue. "I know," he said softly.

"Somehow, she and whoever else is working with her will do something to stop it," Thomas continued. "She's not about to let one of the three royals from her realm regain that much happiness." His breath hitched in his throat as he went on. "I want Ella to know me, James. Me. Not Sean. Before anything else happens to us, I want her to know she's not with some asshole college kid who abandoned her when she was pregnant, but with me…her husband…who never would have left by choice. Not in a million years."

James shook his head, knowing how much it killed the prince every day to live with the memory of having acted so dishonorably as Sean, for being able to do nothing about it except apologize to 'Ashley' and wish for the day she might awaken. But they'd seen first hand with Graham how volatile people could react when faced with truths they weren't ready to learn. "And what if she…doesn't take it well?" he asked.

Thomas turned back to the room and thumped back against the wall. The women were huddled around Abigail now, asking her to recount again how it felt to put one over on Regina. "Honestly?" he thought with a light chuckle, his eyes falling on Snow. "She'll probably just run to your wife…which wouldn't be a bad thing either."

James too looked over to Snow whose radiant smile lit up the room as she laughed. He glanced sideways at Thomas and nodded, conceding the point.

"I'm not…asking for your permission you know," Thomas said quietly.

"I know you're not."

"I ust…hope that you…"

"I understand," James assured him, turning to face him again. "I really do."

Thomas smiled for the first time all afternoon and gave him a nod. "Thanks."

"When?" James asked.

"Tonight…after my shift at Garcon's."

…

James promised Thomas he'd prepare his wife. He would make sure Snow was home tonight and ready for Ella to come bursting through her door, worried that her new fiancée had totally lost it. But as the night wore on, Thomas became more and more convinced that that wouldn't be necessary. Ella was so close. Every time he looked at her, he could see Ella shining more and more through Ashley's eyes. All she needed was a little push. A little push and a little magic. And with Emma's newfound faith in the world, in them, Thomas knew that "a little magic" might not be so hard to come by in the presence of true love.

So by the time his shift was winding down, Thomas was practically giddy as he closed down his station, washed the last of his glasses and headed out. He couldn't wait to tell her. To prove once and for all that she had nothing to fear, that he would never leave her again, that he hadn't really left her in the first place. In fact, he was so focused on what he would say, how he would approach the subject, that he'd barely noticed the strange looks he was getting from Jack all night. The owner had grumbled something vague about Rose calling in sick, but Thomas knew better. Belle had tossed Jack out of her life that morning. She wasn't sick; she was free.

Still, had he not been so preoccupied with Ella, Thomas might have caught on to the seething hatred aimed toward him the second he'd walked in the door. The looks of fury, the death glares every time Jack came out to the bar to help fill drink orders. Thomas was so used to Jack being in a foul mood it never occurred to him that he was angry about something other than his confrontation with Belle that day. Nor did he take note of just how much alcohol his boss was downing throughout the night. As such, Thomas was completely unprepared, as he pushed through the heavy metal doors of the back entrance and headed into the dim parking lot, for the very real danger he was in. He was halfway to his car, visions of he and Ella truly reunited filling his head, when something hard and heavy came crashing down on the back of his neck. The world went white. Shards of pain streaked through him and before he could recover, his spine was struck again with another hard blow. With an agonizing crunch, Thomas crumpled to the ground.

"You think you can plow it wherever you want, don'tcha Herman," he heard a raging voice bellowing over him. "You think you can screw around with her and I wouldn't know?" The object struck him again, this time on the side and somehow he registered that he was being beaten with a heavy metal rod – a crowbar maybe? Tire iron? It struck him a third time, and then again…and again, and soon Thomas had yellow and purple spots dancing before his eyes.

Trying desperately not to vomit from the nausea now gripping his gut, he tried to regain some footing. He managed to block one hit with his arm, straining it upward in a futile show of defense, but this momentary block only seemed to anger his assailant more and Thomas's other arm was swept out from under him. Again, he tried to recover, bracing his hands against the pavement, pushing himself up on all fours. But a steel-toed boot slammed into his gut and he collapsed to the ground with a thud. He was on his side now, clutching his stomach as he writhed in agony. The boot had torn through the skin and his tee-shirt soaked through with blood.

"Get up!" the voice thundered above him.

Once more, Thomas tried to move, angling his body so he could at least get a look at his attacker. But the pain was so excruciating, his vision clouded over, and it was all he could do not to lose complete consciousness. "Who are…what do you…"

"You come here begging for a job, you pathetic pussy…and you repay me by fucking my girl?" Two hands seized Thomas's shirt and pulled him upwards so that he was sprawled on his back while Jack held his torso off the ground by the collar. Every muscle in Thomas's body screamed in pain as he was moved, but he was powerless to fight it. "You stay—" Jack's fist slammed into his jaw. "Away—" another crack across the face followed by the sickening crunch of bones shattering. "From Rose!" Jack pulled his hand back, ready to land one final blow and somehow, Thomas knew this was it. There was no reasoning with this lunatic. It happened almost in slow motion. The second Jack leveled that final punch, Thomas knew he was finished. He couldn't take the hit. He'd never had a chance. He slammed his eyes shut and visions of Ella flashed before him. Her lovely form clothed in white satin as she descended the spiral staircase of the castle to begin the wedding feast. Her tear-stricken face as she confessed her darkest secret – the deal she'd struck with Rumpelstiltskin about their baby. The first time he'd held Alexandra in his arms – his awakening, their reunion. His proposal, her kiss…it all flashed before his eyes as he peered up through swollen flesh and cried out for his wife, for his Ella.

Jack's fist sailed downward, aimed squarely between the eyes, and just before he delivered the final blow, the world froze…and the punch never came. Thomas's eyes flew open, Jack's fist mere inches away from his face…and then it was yanked from view. Thomas crashed back to the pavement, staring up at the stars as he heard more struggling and grunting and growling close by. He strained his head to the side, ignoring the searing agony coursing up his spine as he moved his neck. He heard Jack cry out just as the fight came into view and Thomas gasped as he observed a man, his rescuer, driving punches into Jack's gut again and again like someone who'd been trained in hand-to-hand combat. The man was slightly shorter than Jack and was dressed in baggy jeans, boots and a black leather jacket. He had black straggly hair fringing down in front of his eyes from beneath a skull and cross bones stocking cap. Thomas caught a glimpse of silver chains dangling from his jacket and, in his delirium, followed the swinging of the chains more than the fight itself. After a few more strategic hits and a well-timed kick to the groin, Jack finally staggered away, disappearing down an alley as the man tugged down on his jacket, wiped the sweat from his brow and returned to Thomas's side.

"Who…" Thomas wheezed, but he couldn't quite form the words.

The man didn't reply. Instead he reached into Thomas's pocket and pulled out his cell phone, flipped it open and dialed 9-1-1.

"Please," Thomas tried again, struggling to stay awake. "I have to…"

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" came a throaty, male voice through the speaker.

"There's a man in the parking lot behind Garcon's Tavern in West End. He's been beaten. Send an ambulance." The man's voice was cold, monotone. And he did not respond to the dispatcher who was asking for more information as he dropped the phone down on Thomas's chest.

Only then did Thomas get a glimpse of his face, right before the man turned and strode away. His eyes grew wide when at last he recognized his rescuer. He opened his mouth to call him back. To shout for him by name…but the words wouldn't come and the man broke into a sprint as the sounds of sirens drew near. And just as the man disappeared into the night, Thomas's eyes rolled up into his skull and the world went black.

…

"So Kathryn – or um, Abigail was originally betrothed to you," Emma pointed over at Frederick who was reclining back in the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Right," he nodded, sipping the last of his coffee.

"And then Midas turned you to gold," Emma continued slowly, making sure she had it right. "Then James helped save you, you and Abigail renewed your engagement…and then—"

"Then Regina captured and turned Abigail against us," Snow finished bitterly, limping around the sofa and then propping her cast up on the armrest as she set a tray of crackers on the table. "It's how she's able to control the fate of so many." Snow glanced at Frederick and then back to her daughter. "Half of her servants aren't allied by choice. They're controlled by magic. It's how she controls Graham too."

Emma shuddered at the mere mentioning of Regina's hold on the sheriff, taking a sip of her drink. Since returning from Jefferson's mansion and living through the events of the last few days, she found she much preferred late night cocktails to late night cocoa, and Snow was happy to oblige. After Thomas had left the garage rather abruptly for West End, the gathering at Collodi's similarly dispersed. Abigail and James were headed for the 'Nolan' household, though with both of them now awake, the need to continue the charade of marriage extended no further than their front door (Emma was fairly certain she heard talk of playing card games and hangman until dark and then arguing about who would sleep on the couch). Marco was going to meet Archie (so that, in all likelihood, he and the psychologist could talk about the rest of them), and Belle wanted to get back to her father who was probably worried sick and in need of more medicine. That left Emma, Snow, and Frederick. Snow had already promised James that she would be home tonight, ready in case Ella called. She agreed with James that Thomas's impatient desire to bring his wife in the loop could backfire as badly as Snow had with Graham. But she also couldn't find it in her heart to criticize the young prince for wanting to try. After all, Ella was so close to being herself already, it was worth the risk. So she told Emma she was headed for home and invited Frederick to join them for dinner.

The three of them were now seated in the small living room where only days beforehand Emma sat with the Zimmer children, scrambling to find any information that might lead her to their father. When Emma paused to think how much had happened since then, it was almost unfathomable. So she decided to not think about it anymore and to simply take everything one day at a time.

"Is there any way to stop it?" she asked. "I mean, do we know where she keeps…the hearts?"

Snow looked helplessly over to Frederick and shook her head. She'd spent so much of her young life avoiding and escaping her stepmother, she felt like she knew so little about the dark arts Regina wielded.

"There's some sort of vault," Frederick said gravely, setting his mug down on the table. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Some friends of mine were spies in the queen's royal guard. One of their very last communiques described a gold vault with hundreds of small compartments."

"So you…you knew even then what Regina had done to Abigail?" Snow gasped.

"I didn't know for certain," Frederick said, "but I had my suspicions. When she came to tell me the wedding was off, that she was going to marry Prince James after all…I could tell something was different."

The room went silent, and Snow dropped her forehead in her palm. "Frederick I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Both Frederick and Emma snapped their heads up, gaping at Snow. "For what your Highness?" said the knight.

"Oh stop," she muttered, not finding nearly as much satisfaction in the old address as she had at Collodi's that afternoon. "I'm not a 'highness' here. I'm the reason we're all trapped here in the first place."

"Snow—"

"It's true," she insisted, "One mistake when I was eight years old and the whole kingdom's been paying for it ever since."

Emma and Frederick both exchanged worried glances, sensing there was obviously far more to that story than either of them knew. It occurred to Emma as it had so often today that there was much she needed to learn, so many stories she needed to read and tales she needed told if she had a prayer of going up against the queen. But of one thing she was certain without any further explanation. "This is not your fault," she said, scooting around the couch to the armrest.

"I agree, your Highness," Frederick said, propping his elbow up on the seatback. "We're only responsible for our own actions. Not the actions of others."

Snow smiled weakly, wishing she felt the same, and was about to thank them when a sharp knock sounded at the door. The three of them jolted up in their seats, staring at the entrance. It was close to 2am, just after closing time at Garcon's. And the sound of a baby wailing in the front hallway confirmed what they were all thinking. It was Ella. Thomas telling her about the curse must not have gone so well. Snow rushed to the door as fast as her casted leg could take her and wrenched it open.

"Mary Margaret, thank God," said a young blonde who looked to be weighed down by about four tons of baby gear as she struggled through the doorway. It was indeed Ella, looking more frantic and panicky than Snow had ever seen her in either world. She held Alexandra in one arm pressed up against her shoulder, while she dragged a car seat and baby bag behind her. "I'm so glad you're still up. Hi Emma," she said hurriedly. "Mary, I'm going out of my mind! Sean is—"

"It's ok, Ashley," Snow said, taking one of the bags off her hands as Frederick and Emma stepped in and helped her get her stuff into the house. "We can explain."

Ashley's head darted up in shock, studying her friend's eyes carefully. "You can? You mean…you know where he is?"

Snow drew back, "Wh-what do you mean?" She glanced at the others and then back. "You don't?"

"That's what I was about to tell you," she shrieked, shifting a crying Alexandra to her other shoulder. "Sean's missing."

…

Ella was beside herself and explained that she hadn't even thought about how late it was before packing up Alexandra into the car seat and heading out to Garcon's. She drove all the way to the bar but the place was locked up, dark with not a car in sight. When West End turned into a dead end, she'd driven back to the square and searched everywhere, getting more and more frantic every minute that Sean didn't answer his phone. Eventually, she'd ended up close to Snow's house and pulled in hoping she could get an impromptu sitter for Alex so she could go back out and look again. Five seconds inside Snow's home however nipped that plan in the bud as Frederick and Emma insisted that she come in and calm down. The calming down part hadn't, so far, worked out so well, but at least she was staying inside, pacing in front of the kitchen island as Snow took charge of Alex.

"I'm usually asleep long before this, but he specifically called me tonight and asked me if I would try to wait up for him. He had something important to tell me and he wanted me to be awake!" cried Ashley, wringing her hands out as she checked her cell phone again as she'd been doing once every thirty seconds since she'd arrived.

Emma, Frederick and Snow all kept darting looks at each other, at a complete loss for what to say. They of course, knew exactly what Thomas had wanted to tell her. James had asked that they be prepared for Ella to freak out a little upon hearing from her brand new fiancée that they were actually two of the most iconic fairy tale characters ever written. Explanations and reassurances they were ready to give. But Thomas was…missing? Absolutely no trace? Nothing could have prepared them for that.

"Ashley," Emma made a futile attempt, "I'm sure everything's—"

"It's 2 in the morning!" she cut in. "Where could he possibly—"

The entire room jumped, including Ella, as her phone whirred to life in her hands. Ella was so stunned she nearly dropped it, but her face immediately fell when she didn't recognize the number. Hands shaking, she glanced up at the room, almost hating the looks of support she got from the group, and answered.

"Hello?" she squeaked, having suddenly no voice.

"Miss…Boyd?" came a soft, female voice through the phone. The entire room held its breath.

"Y-yes?"

"Hi, my name is Dawn…Dawn Charles. I'm a nurse at Storybrooke General?"

"Oh my God!" Ashley's hand shot out from her side and gripped the countertop as she stumbled onto the stool next to her. "Sean is he…did he—"

"Sean Herman was admitted here a few hours ago. He's ok – well…he's stable."

Ashley allowed herself a modicum of relief before sheer panic set in again. "Where did he – I mean what…what happened?"

"I need to be honest, Miss Boyd. I...I really shouldn't be calling you…but I was one of the nurses who was there when your daughter was born. I…I remember when Sean came to see you and—"

"What. Happened?" she barked so loud Emma actually jumped back.

There was a pause on the other line that seemed an eternity to Ashley before Dawn finally replied, "I think you need to get down here right away."

…

***Ok so blah blah blah real life sucks blah blah blah students, tests, exams, finals week – oy! But beyond all that real life crap, I've also been totally and completely obsessed with The Avengers these past few weeks and haven't been able to think about Prince Charming with so much Captain America on the brain! Thankfully, I got a fresh burst of creativity after re-watching the pilot of Once again and I'm back on track. Thanks for being patient, and hope you enjoyed.

By the way, what'd you all think of the finale? Are we back in Fairy Tale Land next season? Or are we in Storybrooke still with a world that now has magic?

I will try for another update in a little more timely fashion!

(Any guesses on Thomas's mysterious rescuer?)***