Hours seemed to pass like days in the white room. The small, barred hole in the wall was the only source of light, and the only indicator of whether it was daytime or night. Mary Margaret hadn't seen another person in almost a week. Even the people who fed her only poked their arms through the hatch in the door that only opened from the outside to slide in a plate of miserable-looking food. When the plate was empty, Mary Margaret was expected to put it back in front of the door to be collected. When Dr. Sheffield arrived, she couldn't help but feel glad.
"Hello, Mrs. Nolan," he said with a friendly smile, as two men dressed in white brought in a chair each and placed them down so that they were facing each other. This was a weekly thing that Mary Margaret had grown accustomed to. She got up from the uncomfortable bed in the corner and walked over to the middle of the room before sitting on one of the chairs, while Dr. Sheffield took the other.
"How are you today?"
"Good," she replied. It was a lie, but she desperately wanted him to believe it. If she was healthy, she could leave this place.
"I'm glad to hear that," said Dr. Sheffield. "Do you remember what we discussed last week?"
Mary Margaret nodded. "You wanted to talk about my father."
"That's right. Do you remember what you said about him?"
"I told you he was dead," she answered. "I told you that he was a successful businessman."
Dr. Sheffield nodded, glancing down at his notes. "How did he die?"
"I... I don't know..."
"Really?" said Dr. Sheffield, arching an eyebrow. "That's odd. You have no idea at all?"
Mary Margaret shook her head. "I was young when he died. Nobody told me what happened."
"Hmm... are you, perhaps, lying to me? Healthy people don't lie."
"I'm not lying!" she responded, frowning. The two men in white took a step towards her, but Dr. Sheffield raised a hand to stop them.
"I believe that you believe he is dead," Dr. Sheffield told her. "But the reality is that he is not."
He gave a nod to the two men, and they both left the room. Confused, Mary Margaret watched them go.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what I say," said Dr. Sheffield, as the two men returned with an old man. He looked weak, and on the verge of death, but familiar nonetheless. When Mary Margaret finally recognized him, she gasped.
"Dad?!"
"Now, you see, he doesn't look like a dead man to me," Dr. Sheffield noted. "He looks like a dying man, and perhaps he is, but not quite dead."
The two men let go of the old man, and he fell to his knees. Mary Margaret leaped from her chair and knelt down to face him.
"Mary... Margaret..." he wheezed, his voice frail. Mary Margaret took one of his decrepit hands in hers.
"Dad," she whispered. "How are you still alive?"
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
"Apparently, Mr. Blanchard faked his own death to abscond with his millions," explained Dr. Sheffield, glaring down at the old man. "You don't really think he acquired his fortune ethically, do you? He's a criminal who tried to escape from justice."
Mary Margaret looked up at him. "What is this about?!"
"This is about what I'm owed," Dr. Sheffield said. "It's about his hypocrisy. A man who claims to be entirely obsessed with keeping his family name alive refuses to acknowledge his true successor."
Suddenly, a woman in white entered the room. "Uhh, Dr. Sheffield..."
"Not now, Nurse Ratched. Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?"
The woman looked apologetic. "David Nolan and his family are here to see you."
Dr. Sheffield looked at his watch. "I guess time flies at a family reunion. I'll leave you two to catch up for a while."
Then, without another word, he left the room, followed by the two men, who closed the door and locked it.
Emma couldn't remember a time where she felt more anxious as she sat in the hospital's waiting room with David and Neal. When Dr. Sheffield entered the room, smiling at them, they all stood up.
"Dr. Sheffield," said David. "I've got great news. I'd like you to meet Emma. She's my daughter, and Mary Margaret's too."
Dr. Sheffield looked at her for a few moments. "Nice to meet you, Emma. Are you aware of your mom's condition?"
"Yeah," Emma replied. "I was told that she missed me so much that it started to affect her mental health, so she was placed here."
"That's right," David spoke. "But now that Emma's here, Mary Margaret can come home, right?"
That made Dr. Sheffield frown. "I'm not sure about that... first of all, we'd have to see how Mary Margaret reacts to Emma."
Emma shrugged. "Only one way to find out. Can I see her?"
"Strictly speaking, these aren't visiting hours," Dr. Sheffield said. "However... I suppose I can make an exception. Follow me please."
Emma, as well as David and Neal, started to follow him, but Dr. Sheffield shook his head.
"I think it's best if it's just Emma. We wouldn't want Mary Margaret to become overwhelmed."
David looked like he was going to argue, but Neal nodded. "We can wait. Good luck, Emma."
"Thanks," said Emma uncertainly, before walking down the corridor with Dr. Sheffield. David and Neal watched them disappear around the corner, both of them looking concerned.
"You must have come a long way to see your parents," Dr. Sheffield said as they walked.
"Boston," Emma replied.
"And who were you living with in Boston?"
"Well... until recently, I thought they were my parents, but apparently their real names are Zelena and Chad."
"I see." They stopped at a locked door that required Dr. Sheffield to type in a code to unlock. When he typed in the correct numbers, the door unlocked and he opened it. The two of them descended stairs that led to another, although more dimly-lit, corridor.
"Where are we?" asked Emma, suddenly feeling uneasy about her surroundings.
"This is the psych ward," said Dr. Sheffield. "It's where we keep our patients who have mental health problems. This way, please."
They passed a desk where a stern-looking nurse watched them, and made their way through a maze of steel doors and white brick, until they came to a door with "NOLAN, M." on it, bold and black. When Sheffield gave a nod, two men seemed to show up out of nowhere and opened the door for them.
"After you," he said. Emma cautiously entered the room, and looked around. Mary Margaret – who Emma recognized from photos at the Nolan residence – was sitting inside, and she wasn't alone. Sitting across from her was an old man.
"Who is she?" Mary Margaret asked, looking at Dr. Sheffield, who scoffed.
"Come now, Mrs. Nolan," he said, as the door closed behind them. "Don't you recognize your own daughter?"
Mary Margaret's eyes widened, and she looked at Emma. The old man, strangely enough, started looking terrified.
"Emma? Is that really you?" Mary Margaret asked, tears forming in her eyes. Emma walked over to her.
"Yes, it's me. I'm here. I was in Boston and I thought Zelena was my mom, but she isn't. You are."
The tears ran down Mary Margaret's face. "You shouldn't have come back..."
"What?" Emma frowned at her. "But I'm the reason you're being kept here!"
Mary Margaret sniffed. "And now... I'm the reason you'll be kept here."
"What? What are you talking about?" asked Emma.
"She has a point," said Dr. Sheffield. When she looked at him, Emma saw Dr. Sheffield pulling out a gun from his white coat. "I finally have all three of you. Three generations of the Blanchard family... though technically you're a Swan, and your mom is a Nolan. Still, it doesn't matter. This man, Emma, is Leopold Blanchard. Your grandfather. He sought to establish a family dynasty that would be the wealthiest in Storybrooke. He thought that his family would live on to become successful and strong, but... there are only three of you. Leopold, Mary Margaret, Emma. The last of the Blanchard bloodline. Unless, of course, you include... me."
"What?" Mary Margaret snapped.
Dr. Sheffield glanced at her, before moving his gaze to Leopold. "Should you tell her, or shall I?"
The old man in the chair only scowled at him, his eyes ablaze with hatred. Mary Margaret frowned.
"Tell us what? Dad, please..."
"I'm his bastard son," Dr. Sheffield said.
Turning to face him, Mary Margaret's face was a mixture of horror and disgust. "Who the hell are you?!"
"I'm exactly who I claim to be," he replied. "I'm Dr. Jafar Sheffield, the only son of Leopold Blanchard, and your half-brother."
When Zelena arrived in Storybrooke, the first thing she did was make her way to Granny's Diner, a place she hadn't been to in seventeen years. It hadn't seemed to have changed much over the years, though. It was almost exactly as she remembered it, except instead of Granny, there was a younger, blonde lady behind the counter. When she approached the counter, Zelena saw that the woman's eyes were cloudy.
She must be blind, Zelena thought to herself.
"Where's Granny?" she asked the blind woman.
"She retired years ago. I'm Cecilia, the new owner. How can I help you?"
"I'm looking for a girl named Emma – wait, your name's Cecilia?"
"Yeah."
Ava Zimmer flicked her wrist, and something flew out of the container, splashing into Cecilia's face. The bloodcurdling scream that Zelena heard would give her nightmares for months. Everyone – students and teachers – raced over and crowded around them, and several teachers grabbed Ava and pulled her away while several gathered around Cecilia, who had dropped to her knees, clutching her face.
"Oh my god," Zelena heard herself say. Cecilia frowned.
"Sorry, do I know you?"
"No, I... I'm sorry, I have to go." Zelena walked out of the diner as quickly as she could. She would just have to go look for Emma somewhere else.
