The smoke cleared, and little Emma felt her chest tighten, like she couldn't breathe. She'd heard the words that the adults were saying; she'd heard them talk about the curse that would rip them from Storybrooke and wipe the little town off the map. Yet somehow, she'd still expected to be standing on the edge of town. But as soon as the smoke thinned out, she knew she wasn't in Maine anymore.

The first thing she noticed was the ground. There had been snow on the ground in Storybrooke, but here, the grass was green. She lifted her eyes and saw the forested horizon—lush and green, but different from the landscape of the northeastern United States. There was a gazebo in front of them, and two people in strange clothing. Emma turned and looked at her parents; they were wearing strange clothing too. For the first time, she looked down at her own clothing, and saw that it too had changed—she was wearing a cream-colored dress with a wide, flowing skirt. A blue cape or cloak of some sort hung heavy over her shoulders. She looked at the ground again, and saw her feet poking out from beneath her dress, clad in grey and blue jewel-encrusted slippers. Her eyes widened, and she felt lightheaded.

She could hear her own breaths, shallow and pounding inside her head. She heard people speaking around her, but their voices sounded faint, like noise coming from a television in another room. She saw Mary Margaret's lips move, and heard her voice, a murmur in the haze: "We're back."


Emma felt numb. Later, she wouldn't remember her parents' conversation with Aurora and Philip or the plans they made with Regina and the others. She wouldn't remember Regina's explanation about how the curse had restored their lands, homes, and property. She wouldn't remember the way her parents had stepped up as the natural and recognized leaders of the group, or the way they'd managed to simultaneously make decisions on behalf of the group and still give her the occasional shoulder squeeze or casual embrace. She didn't see their eyes on her, watching her closely as her mind swirled, trying to take in the new world in which she was standing.

"Hey girlfriend," a voice said. Emma didn't turn; she barely heard it at all. She couldn't feel her fingers anymore. Red stepped in front of Emma and knelt down in the grass, taking Emma's two hands in her own. "Hey, Emma," she said, softly but urgently. She gave her hands a small tug. "Em, look at me."

Emma looked up suddenly, her eyes meeting Red's. "Ru—Ruby?" she asked haltingly.

Red's look of concern softened to pity. "Yeah, honey it's me." She smiled. "I'm just in different clothes." Emma nodded twice, but Ruby could see her eyes beginning to glaze over once more, and Ruby squeezed her hands repeatedly in an attempt to hold onto her attention. "Hey, we're okay. We're still us. We're here."

Snow and Charming stood nearby, working with the others to make a plan. "If we travel due north through the forest path, we'll reach your palace first," Charming said, looking to Regina, who nodded.

"Then we'll continue from there to our place," Snow said. "We need to show everyone that we're united, that we'll rule together." She gave Regina a meaningful look. "The way we were always meant to."

Regina nodded and half-smiled. Snow touched her gently on the elbow. Neither they nor Charming noticed as Aurora and Philip shared a quick, worried glance.

"We'll provide you with horses, for your journey, of course," Philip said.

Aurora nodded. "And anything else you require."

Snow nodded. Charming thanked them for their generosity and discussed the journey ahead, and Snow's gaze wandered to little Emma. She was standing nearby, staring into the distance. Red was kneeling in front of her, holding her hands and, she could tell, trying to keep her engaged.

"Snow?" Aurora asked, and Snow snapped back to the conversation in front of her, realizing that someone had asked her something and she was expected to respond.

"Should we get going?" Charming asked.

Snow nodded. "Spread the word. But, um, excuse me a moment." She smiled politely and slipped away toward Emma and Red.

"How are you?" she asked, putting a hand on Emma's shoulder. She looked from Emma to Red, who half smiled and stood up.

Emma continued to look at the ground where Ruby had been. Red leaned toward Snow and whispered, "She's going into shock."

Snow nodded and stepped directly in front of Emma, placing a hand on the side of her face. "Hey, baby, look at me," she said. "Deep breaths, okay?" Emma looked up and followed Snow as she slowly inhaled and exhaled. Snow continued speaking, trying to pull Emma out of her own head and back to reality, "You're okay, we're all okay. You're with me, and Daddy, and Red; we're in the Enchanted Forest, we're—"

"It's real," Emma muttered, suddenly looking up at her mother. "It's all real. You're really…" she trailed off.

A smile crept across Snow's face, and he nodded. "It's real," she said.

Emma's eyes narrowed, as though seeing Snow for the first time. "Your hair…" she said softly.

Snow White glanced down at her dark curls. "Yeah. It was always long here. Yours too," she added, gesturing to Emma's own hair, which hung long and curly, well past her shoulders.

Emma looked down, then back up at Snow. She didn't say a word.

"How's your foot feeling?" Snow asked. Emma shrugged. "We're going to start moving soon," Snow continued. "You can ride with your father." She gave Emma's arm a squeeze. "Wait here, I'll be just a minute."

Within minutes, Snow, Charming, and a few members of the royal guard had mounted their borrowed horses. The bulk of their group would need to walk, but having just a few scouts and lookouts on horseback would help keep everyone safe. Leroy—Grumpy, now—led Charming's horse toward the edge of the clearing, where little Emma stood, leaning against a tree to keep weight off her still-healing foot. Grumpy stretched out a hand toward her. "Can I help you up, your Highness?" he asked politely.

Little Emma looked around, confused. Nearby, Snow bit her lip to stifle a laugh, and exchanged amused glances with Charming. "Honey, that's you," Snow said.

Grumpy led Emma toward Charming's horse, and Charming offered his hand to help her mount the horse in front of him. "Come on, Princess," he said with a smile.


Charming rode in silence for a while. He knew better than to push Emma to talk before she was ready—he'd learned that from his adult daughter pretty quickly. He held the horse's reins loosely, his arms wrapped around the ten-year-old in front of him in the saddle. He looked at the scenery around him and tried to see it through Emma's eyes—everything new and strange. He, on the other hand, found comfort in the familiarity of the landscape. It felt like a soothing balm on the raw pain of saying goodbye to adult Emma and Henry, of feeling his family torn in two.

"Are you okay?" Emma's voice pulled him suddenly from his thoughts.

Charming looked down at the top of her head, confused. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he said.

She tilted her head up to look at him. "The blood," she said plainly. "On your shirt." She looked back at the road in front of them.

"Oh, right," he said. "I'm okay. It was just on the shirt. We all came back to the same clothes we were wearing when we left. Except for you, which is good, since you were just wrapped in a blanket when you left here."

"You were bleeding when the curse hit?" the girl asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. I had to fight some of the queen's guards to get you to the wardrobe in time. One of them stabbed me just as I sent you through."

She sat in silence with this information for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. "You were protecting me?"

He smiled softly. "Yes."

She paused before speaking again. "Thank you," she said.

"I'm your father, Emma," he said. "I'll always protect you."

He could have been imagining it, but he thought he felt the girl's small body relax just a little bit against his chest. They returned to a comfortable silence as the horse slowly trotted along the forest path.

A few minutes later, a noise in the woods momentarily startled the horse, and Charming felt Emma tense again. She instinctively gripped his arms tightly.

"Whoa, whoa, it's okay," he said, calming both the girl and the horse. "Have you ever ridden a horse before?" he asked.

Emma looked up at him again. "Yeah, group homes usually have a stable, and everyone gets their own pony," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Charming chuckled. There was the Emma he knew, he thought. "Point taken," he conceded. "Don't worry, we'll have you riding like a pro in no time." An idea struck him and he smiled at the thought, then navigated his horse up the path until they were riding alongside Snow.

She saw them approach and smiled. "How's it going?" she asked.

"We're going to ride ahead to the lookout point," Charming responded. "We'll take the high path and meet you at the mouth of the canyon."

Snow raised an eyebrow. "Is everything okay?" Charming grinned and nodded, then tilted his head just slightly toward Emma, and Snow understood. "See you soon, then," she said, chuckling.

Charming nudged the horse ahead with his heels, and soon, they had climbed the steep mountain path and reached an open meadow. Charming tapped the horse's sides with his heels and loosened his grip on the reins; before long, they were galloping through the field. He could tell that Emma was nervous at first, from how tense her body was and how tightly she was gripping the front of the saddle. As they continued, she relaxed and loosened. Her blonde curls blew behind her as air rushed through them, and she let out a giggle that was music to his ears. Her childish laugh reminded him of Henry, and he felt a fresh pang of grief as he recalled the sight of his daughter and grandson driving across the town line. But at the same time, her laugh made him feel hopeful—hopeful about the new life they'd have here; hopeful that he'd have the opportunity to give her the childhood she deserved, to make her laugh over and over again.