Before we get started, I highly recommend reading Snow's Sacrifice (and definitely read Getting to Know the Evil Queen) before starting this story. If you have already, I hope you enjoy what's to come!
Chapter One – Dragging One's Feet
In full Evil Queen regalia, Regina Mills faced her enemies. Her hands shot forth and… nothing happened. Emma watched the queen's hard mask as it twisted from murderous rage to uncertainty and panic. Realisation gripped the mob – the tyrant was powerlessness. Buoyed by this knowledge, they cheered and the tide closed in.
Emma's stomach clenched. The clock spun out of control and suddenly, the queen was gone. In her place, Mayor Mills appeared, bound to a pyre and robed in the grey dress Emma had first met her in. The deposed and exposed politician shouted her demands to be released while the mob pushed and called for her execution. The sheriff tried to yell over the din, to assert some authority over the vengeful town's people, but they were unmoved. A bitter tang of anger and hatred filled the air, choking her.
From beyond the barrier of bodies, Snow White and Prince Charming strode forward to a roar of applause. The meek and mild-mannered teacher was gone, a leader and righteous hero taking her place. The sheriff breathed a sigh of relief at first, until she saw the lit torch in the princess' hand and looked back to the mayor to find the scene changed again.
In place of the grey dress, a tailored riding suit of powder-blue and where cropped hair once sat, a long, practical plait took its place. Regina's face was that of a teen, with terror radiating from her wide eyes. She struggled against her bonds and wept at the sight of so many hate-filled faces. Her warm, brown eyes met Emma's and cried out for her help.
"Today, the Evil Queen gets her just reward," Snow announced to the crowd, inciting them further.
Emma grabbed at the tinder-pile to begin removing it one piece at a time, but the mob surged abruptly and swallowed her. She looked back at the terrified girl to see flames now licking the air around her and desperate cries tearing from her throat, "I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Stop!" Emma screamed at the mob and Snow White, but they continued to force her back, until all she could do was listen to a girl's dying screams and weep for a life that might have been.
The sheriff's eyes shot open just as a sob grew in her throat. Not wanting to wake her son, she clamped a hand over her mouth and cried in silence. Grief shook her body in tiny shudders for several minutes until she managed to rein it in and breathe normally again. She crawled out of bed, checked that Henry was still sleeping soundly and grabbed a pile of clothes to take to the bathroom.
There was no way that she could sleep again after one of those dreams. Seeing her ex-lover persecuted in various forms was disturbing enough, but the last one stuck with her most and drove her from the comfort of slumber and rest.
Emma threw her pyjamas into the basket in the corner of the bathroom and pulled on the wrinkled outfit she'd worn the day before. It didn't seem to matter what she wore now; she was the famed saviour and Snow White's daughter; she was fairly certain that she could wander round town in a dressing-gown and no one would question it. What did any of it matter?
She tiptoed down the stairs and past her parents' sleeping forms. As she made her way to the front door and lifted her key to the lock, a terrible urge to laugh bubbled up from inside and she had to clamp her hand around her mouth again. Nearly twenty-nine years old and I'm sneaking out past my actual parents for the first time. Strange how life changed. Not so long ago, she would have jumped at the chance to have them and her son all back in her life but now all she could think about was the whereabouts of the crazy, fairy-tale villain who'd captured her heart. Eventually, she slid the key into the lock and let herself into the hallway. Once out in the cool, morning air, Emma felt the hysterical moment pass and breathed with relief.
She remembered laughing with Henry in Regina's living room over something silly on TV, and then catching sight of Regina in the doorway, a strange look of longing hanging over her expression. It hurt to laugh now, when the town thirsted for the Evil Queen's blood and Regina was nowhere to be found. Was she hiding, safe from the vengeful masses, or was she hurt somewhere and couldn't (or wouldn't) call for help? No matter how angry and hurt Emma was by Regina's deception, she couldn't help worrying.
A week ago, she'd lain in the mayor's bed, her skin and muscles tingling in the aftermath of Regina's undivided attentions. Satisfied in body and mind, Emma had never felt so whole. Three days ago, she'd wondered if the crazy woman would ever soften enough to give them a chance at something more than fuck-buddies, but she'd still felt like her life was coming together. She certainly hadn't wondered if there was a secret lair somewhere to hide fugitive fairy-tale characters, or worried about disappointing heroic figures who just happened to be her parents. Now, she had the family she'd wanted for so long, but it didn't feel right, not without Regina.
She wandered through the streets aimlessly until her feet ached and her stomach began to rumble. The last thing she wanted was to return to the apartment and have to face more questions about how she felt and what her plans were for the future. She didn't want to face any more of Snow's pleading expressions – the ones that begged Emma to sit down and talk about them as mother and daughter, not just friends or roommates. It was a conversation that Emma had been avoiding ever since Snow and David found her in the street after the curse broke. She wasn't ready. She wasn't sure she would ever be ready. But she didn't have much choice. Granny's wouldn't offer a reprieve; every time she set foot in there, someone asked her if she'd found the Evil Queen yet and she had to stop herself from losing her temper. Dressing without care might get overlooked for a while, but she was pretty sure that giving Leroy (aka Grumpy) a black eye was going to cost her too many reputation points.
With Henry to consider, running away was not an option either. Emma no longer had the luxury of pleasing only herself now that she had to be a full-time parent. She swallowed her fear and wandered back the way she'd come, climbing the stairs to the apartment with increasingly heavy soles. She found David and Henry already sat at the table, half way through breakfast, while Snow paced in the kitchen area. As soon as she stepped through the front door, the pixy-haired princess leapt on her.
"Emma!" Snow cried dramatically. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick!"
The sheriff glanced over at the man and boy stuffing their faces and arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, looks like it," she replied and forced a chuckle. At the sight of her mother's glassy eyes, she bit back another joke and sighed. Not tears. Anything but tears. "I just went for a walk 'cause I couldn't sleep. I'm fine, honestly," she amended, her hand reaching out automatically to squeeze the woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake anybody, but I'll leave a note next time, ok?"
Snow nodded and sniffed back her tears. "I'm sorry, Emma." She smiled crookedly and moved back to the kitchen to start loading two plates with food. "It's just, with Regina out there somewhere plotting who knows what… We can't be too complacent." She placed the meals in the remaining spaces at the table and grabbed the blonde's arm to pull her over. "I lost you once, sweetie, I don't want to lose you again."
You didn't lose me, Emma's inner voice piped up resentfully. You threw me into a magical wardrobe. She ignored the comment about Regina, knowing that it would only start an , as Henry suddenly found intense interest in his cereal, she made a mental note to have a long conversation with her son about his adopted mother. Not trusting her voice, she grimaced and hoped it might pass as a smile. She was hungry but the food had no taste and it stuck in her throat. She tried to wash it down but choked on her juice almost as soon as it touched her lips. What the hell is wrong with you? she scolded herself, but continued to struggle as she forced her way through breakfast.
Back in her bedroom, she slumped on the unmade bed and closed her eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd pushed herself to eat when anxiety threatened to make her throw up. Experience had taught her that you ate when there was food because there might not be any later. The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs caught her attention and she groaned in annoyance as she sat up. The gentle knock came a moment later.
"Come in, David," she called reluctantly. The man's sandy hair peeped around the door frame, slowly followed by the rest of him. "If you're going to ask me how I am, don't bother. I said, I'm fine."
He leant in the doorway and nodded. "Your mother's just worried. Losing you was hard on both of us, and now you're all grown up, we're not quite sure how to handle it. She'll calm down eventually." Noticing the annoyance on his daughter's face, he coughed and puffed out his chest a little. "Once we have the Evil Queen in custody, I think everyone will start to relax a bit. We should start searching properly today."
"Regina's not going to swoop down from the sky and start throwing fireballs," Emma scoffed. "Not while her son is with us."
He shifted uncomfortably now, as if what he had to say next would come as a shock to her. "I know that you spent a lot of time with her because of Henry, but you don't know her like we do, Emma. She's manipulative and dangerous."
"Sure," Emma replied, knowing that he was right and finding no reason to fight it. Those outfits of hers are dangerous too. Dangerously distracting, her brain supplied unhelpfully. Her gut still told her that there was another side to the woman. A side worth saving. "But you don't know her like I do. She won't do anything that would put Henry in danger." Seeing that he was about to argue, she cut him off with a gesture. "Whatever she is or isn't up to, I agree that we need to find her."
"Yes, ok," David replied and backed off. "You might want to shower and change your clothes first though. People are starting to talk."
So much for getting away with the scruffy look, she sighed. After scrubbing down and donning a clean shirt, Emma returned downstairs and grabbed her jacket and keys. David was ready too, with his plaid shirt looking normal and the sword in his hand decidedly not. She found her son's forlorn expression from across the room and groaned inwardly.
"We really need to get that school open again, huh?" she teased him, though it was a serious concern that she had.
"What?" Henry spluttered. "But isn't everyone going back to the Enchanted Forest? What do we need school for?"
The sheriff's eyebrows shot up. "God, I hope not! I do not want to pee in a pot," she joked, though again, was seriously worried about that happening.
"Emma," Snow scolded, looking offended. "I'm sure you will find lots of things to enjoy about living back home. Besides, as royalty, you will have every comfort."
"Yeah? You got Ben and Jerry's?" the blonde retorted, irritably.
Sensing the brewing argument, David hooked his hand around his daughter's elbow and steered her towards the door. "Come on, Sheriff. Let's get this witch hunt started, huh?"
Between Henry's continued excitement about everything magical, Snow's assumption that they would all be returning to their castles and medieval life, and David's insistence on calling Regina a witch, Emma's mood took an even steeper downturn.
They started at the Sheriff's station by checking in with Ricardo, who manned the telephone and checked in on their prisoner first thing in the morning. Emma read the logs from the previous evening and morning before thanking him and sending him home. His job was little more than 'glorified babysitter' most days, but it was a nod to normalcy that made her day easier and she was all for that. Since David had become her unofficial, full-time deputy, there was little need for her temps, but she felt the need to hang on to all the little things that reminded her of a life before magic and curses.
"Comfy in there?" Emma asked as she wandered closer to the cells and looked in on Jefferson.
"I've lived in better cells than this, Saviour. Worse ones too," he answered. "I didn't expect the child of Snow White to be so rough in her handling of prisoners. I still don't know why I'm in here."
"I've told you why," the sheriff replied with a grimace, trying and failing to hide the itch she felt at being given that title. There was no evidence to link him to Henry's mysterious illness, but she still had hers and Mary Margret's witness statements from when he'd abducted them.
"Kidnapping?" His eyebrow arched and he rose from the cot. "Your mother already pardoned me for that; I was working to break the curse. I apologise again for being a little heavy handed in my approach."
"She… Snow… Mary Margret is not in charge here. I'm the sheriff. You stay until I say otherwise." Emma winced at how she stumbled through her words and swallowed the discomfort in her throat.
Jefferson grinned. "Having a little trouble with your nouns there, Saviour? I can relate to madness."
"Shut up," she grumbled and fled to her office for several minutes.
Once she had her anger back under control and had finished a few official, box-checking tasks, she shrugged on her holster, clipped on her badge and led David out into the bright sunshine of another glorious day in Storybrooke. The good weather brought out more concerned citizens than usual and by midday, Emma's head was pounding with the effort it took not to strangle someone. Prince Charming's presence placated most people, but with every conversation came another mention of the Evil Queen, which inevitably led to talk of trials and executions.
"Whatever happens, there will be no public hangings or firing squads," Emma snapped at another person. "This is not the Enchanted Forest – we do things differently here." She felt David's hand on the crook of her elbow and tried to shake him off as he led her away from the crabby old lady who always complained about children stepping on her flower beds. "What the hell?" she complained as she broke free and put some distance between them.
"Emma, I don't know what's happening with you, but you need to stop biting people's heads off. They have legitimate concerns about the Evil Queen. You need to listen to them," he counselled.
"We might have had time to actually find Regina if everyone would back off and let us look!" she hissed back. "It's been three days, David."
"I know," he responded with the same reasonable tone that was beginning to grate on his daughter's nerves. "Your mother and I are getting more concerned about what she could be planning. Giving the Evil Queen time to think has never worked out well for us."
Emma stared at him with incredulity for several seconds, and then dragged her hands through her hair and bit her tongue to stop from screaming her frustration. When she was sure that she wasn't going to hit him, she moved closer and lowered her voice to a growl. "You know what I'm concerned about? I'm concerned that my son's mother could be dead or dying and no one even cares to think to help her. That I might have to tell Henry that he's never going to see his mom again. That all people can talk about is killing the woman who raised my baby."
David's eyes widened gradually as understanding came over him. He opened his mouth to speak but the sheriff was already stomping away from him. "Emma!" he called and began to jog after her.
Half wishing that she'd kept her mouth shut, Emma sighed in defeat and turned with what she hoped was a thoroughly unapproachable expression – the one that stopped teachers, social workers and foster parents from digging further into her psyche. Thankfully, she didn't need to wait to find out. A buzzing in her pocket and the sound of The Police's 'Every Little Thing She Does…' broke her from her thoughts.
"Sheriff Swan," she answered gratefully. That little flutter of relief died as the caller relayed the details of their concern and she felt her stomach sink. Her legs were already carrying her back to where they'd parked the cruiser as she prodded for more information but overall, there wasn't much more to hear. "Ok, thank you for calling. I'm on my way there." She thrust the phone back in her pocket and picked up the pace, ignoring David's calls for information. In the car, she barely waited for her deputy to get in and close the door before she pulled out onto the road and hit the gas. Taking her phone out again, she handed it to Charming. "Call the fire station. Tell them we've got a car on fire in the cemetery car park."
Emma barely saw the houses which passed in a blur of greens, whites and browns. David's voice became background noise and, in the back of her mind, she tried to figure out if she was feeling hope or dread. Both, probably. There was no detail from the caller which could identify the owner of the torched vehicle, but the sheriff knew; even with all of the strange changes in Storybrooke, the only person currently whose property was at risk of being vandalised like this was the absent mayor's.
Three days ago…
Still reeling from that hug with her parents… Her real, large as life parents… Emma didn't immediately tune into the voices that called for Regina's persecution. When their angry tones did reach her, she felt all concerns for herself and her family-reunion fly away.
Since watching Regina leave the hospital, Emma had tried not to think about how betrayed she felt. It was stupid; Regina had promised nothing and actively sought to keep their physical entanglement from crossing over with the rest of her life – Emma was the one who had pushed for more – but she knew she hadn't imagined all of the little moments in between when the stubborn mayor had let her guard down for more than a second. Regina Mills had been running scared behind her impenetrable façade and that was the source of the sheriff's ire now.
They might have had something. They might have weathered this storm together, if only Regina had been brave enough to give it a chance.
It was Henry's pleading that pushed more bitterness to the back of her mind and motivated her feet to run in the direction of the mansion. She'd thoroughly expected to find Regina facing down the mob, or already in their clutches, but the house was shut up and cold, and the gathering crowd were getting restless, shouts of 'break down the door' and 'drag her out' grew louder. Emma had never been more glad to have a badge and a gun on her side as she elbowed her way past the mob and hauled people off the porch.
"Enough!" she yelled over their heads, snapping their attention briefly from their single-minded task.
Whale, at the head of the rabble and looking more wound up than most, glared back at the blonde. "You're the sheriff. You should be arresting her – kick the door in!"
"Back off!" the sheriff ordered and took a step forward, forcing the doctor to retreat into the crowd. "I don't care how things were done where you came from. Here, we don't form lynch mobs to drag people from their homes." She saw the hesitation on most of their faces and lowered her voice slightly. "I will deal with Regina, but let me make this clear – this is my son's home," she pointed up at the imposing house and met the eyes of all who were bold enough to look at her. She reminded herself that these were people who'd just woken up from a curse – they'd had three decades of their lives stolen. Perhaps hectoring them wasn't the best approach. With a softer tone, she added, "If it wasn't for Henry, the curse wouldn't be broken. He nearly gave his life for you, don't repay him by destroying his home."
The plea had been enough to turn most of the crowd away with guilty expressions, but one or two looked disappointed and bitter rather than contrite. The second Emma pulled the cruiser into the cemetery car park and spotted the burned-out Benz, she knew someone had purged their need for revenge another way. The iconic car was probably the best symbol of Regina's control next to her posh home and wasn't as closely linked to the ten-year-old boy who'd worked tirelessly to save the town.
"Is that…?" David asked as they stepped out of the cruiser and approached cautiously.
"Regina's car," Emma finished for him, her voice sounding as serious as he'd ever heard it.
She stood at a safe distance as they waited for the fire service to arrive. There would have to be an investigation into how this had happened, but in the back of her mind, the sheriff wondered how worthwhile it would be. Storybrooke was cut off from the rest of the world and needed to stay in its own little bubble. She could try to push her experience of law and order down the throats of the people here, but she didn't think it would work well. There needed to be balance and as she watched the last of the flames flick at warped metal, she wondered if it was possible for Regina to get off so lightly.
What bothered Emma more at that moment was the fact that the Benz was there at all instead of in the mayor's drive. Then it hit her. "The mausoleum."
"What?" David asked, his attention leaving the wreck.
The sheriff turned to her deputy with a light dawning behind her eyes. "Regina's mausoleum, where her father's buried. That must be why she left her car here." The more she thought about it, the more obvious it seemed. The space inside was tiny for a long refuge, but Henry had been certain that there was more to the crypt than met the eye. Could he be right? Was there a secret hideaway where Regina could live for days, even weeks, without detection? "Stay here, David. Help the fire crew with their investigation and make sure no one else touches anything. Take as many pictures as you can."
"You can't go off alone!" he called after her, panic catching in his throat. "You don't know what's out there!"
Emma paused at the gate to the graveyard path and gazed back at her father with sympathy. It was still a novel thing to have people who cared about her safety, but a large part of her chaffed at the delay. "I'll be fine, David. Please, just guard the scene." Recognising his pugnacious expression as one of her own, she sighed. "Please," she repeated. "There's no one else I trust right now."
Charmed by the entreaty, David nodded reluctantly. "Be careful. Gold brought magic to this world; Regina might not be the only thing to worry about out there."
Nodding, the sheriff reassured him that she wouldn't take any stupid risks and passed through the gate at a more cautious speed than she'd originally intended. Past all of the regular, rows of graves, Emma sank deeper into the trees and found the path she'd followed with Graham all those months ago. Thinking of him and his strange behaviour now, she recalled Henry's insistence that there was foul play at work and felt more than ever that Regina had a part in the man's death. It was another betrayal that pierced deep into her chest and more guilt that she would have to live with.
Even sure of the woman's culpability, Emma couldn't help the hope and panic that worked together to drive her heart into a rapid pace as she drew closer to the crypt. Looking up at the same antler symbol, she took a deep breath and marched up to the door. The handle turned but didn't open. She lifted a hand and knocked on the thick wood with her knuckle.
"Regina?" the blonde called tentatively, just loud enough to carry to the room beyond. "Regina? If you're in there, answer me. We just want to know that you're ok." There was more to it than that. A lot more. But questions and answers could come later, when she knew that the mayor was not dead or dying. She waited a few agonising seconds and then knocked again, harder. "Regina, come on! I know you're in there…! You have to be in there…" she added as her voice died.
Emma pressed her ear up against the door and listened intently for any sign of movement from within. She knew Regina was stubborn enough to ignore her completely, but she did think the woman might be desperate to know about her son by now. Frustrated and hearing nothing, she kicked the door and stepped back to study the mausoleum. For several minutes, she paced and circled, working over the problem. Wondering whether she should exercise more patience or just batter the damned door down.
Abandoning all attempt at subtlety, Emma clenched her fingers into a fist and pounded on the door. "Regina! Stop hiding and come out, damn it!"
When that didn't work, Emma bent down and studied the lock further. It was old and the kind of lock she knew she could pick if she had the right tools. Becoming a leading figure in law enforcement had not rid her entirely of her street-wise ways and she knew that she might come across a situation like this eventually. In the back of the cruiser's glove box, she'd tucked a few handy tools. She just hoped that her skills hadn't rusted entirely.
Huffing her temporary surrender, Emma turned from the crypt with one last longing look and jogged back to the car park. David was still there, pacing as the fire crew half-heartedly doused the smouldering lump that remained of Regina's Benz. The moment he spotted his daughter, his expression lit up and he moved to intercept her path to the cruiser.
"Emma! You're back," he said.
"Uh… yup," she answered and stepped around him to get to the passenger side of the car. After pocketing what she came for, Emma spoke to the chief in charge of the fire crew and made arrangements for examining the cause of the fire and the clean-up of the wreck. There wasn't much left for them to do, so she didn't complain when her deputy followed her like a puppy back through the gate to the graveyard.
As they reached the Mills crypt and Emma knelt down to get eye-level with the keyhole, she felt Charming's gaze on the back of her head. Heat rose into her cheeks and she fumbled with the tie on the bag. Picking the lock took no time at all, leaving the sheriff feeling relieved that she hadn't had to fight another dragon or something equally ridiculous. The handle turned as before but this time there was a definite click as the door fell open a crack. Despite her earlier desperation though, the sheriff hesitated before pushing it completely open.
"I guess this looks kinda bad, huh? A sheriff who's adept at breaking and entering?" she thought aloud and busied herself with wrapping up the tools so she didn't have to look the man – her father – in the eye.
Charming chuckled to himself, surprising her as he landed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Your mother spent years as a bandit and I grew up shovelling sheep dung," he told her and chuckled again at her shocked expression. "You never know when skills might come in handy. Don't be ashamed of who you are, Emma. You're a survivor."
David leant in to kiss her forehead and for the first time, she didn't flinch. Emma swallowed the lump in her throat and was just about to suggest that they got on with their search when snapping branches and the sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention. She reached for her sidearm but found her deputy's hand on her shoulder again and a contrite expression on his face.
"I called your mother from the car park," he confessed.
Emma rolled her eyes and peered into the dark to find her roommate picking her way through the trees like she'd been born to it. "Where's Henry?" she asked as soon as Snow was close enough.
"At Granny's. Ruby's watching him."
Emma nodded. "Fine. Just stay behind me, ok?" She'd delayed enough already and she was anxious to see if her hunch was right. The fact that nobody had yet appeared at the door didn't seem to drench her hope at all.
When the door fell back and three pairs of eyes landed on a crooked coffin and a flight of stairs leading down, Emma felt relief rather than surprise. Torches lit their way down and into a room that sounded as if it was filled with speakers all playing the same base rhythm. The trio paused and gaped up at the wall of boxes, each of them coming slowly to the same conclusion.
"Are those…?" David asked softly.
"Hearts," Snow confirmed and sucked in a quick breath before stifling a sob with her hand. "How could she…?"
Emma's stomach clenched and she had to concentrate not to retch. This wasn't the woman she knew. Had Regina really done this? How twisted did someone need to be to tear out dozens of hearts and keep them on display in their own personal collection? The pounding of her own heartbeat filled her head and she wondered all over again how she could have fallen for someone so… evil. All of those stolen moments, when she thought she's peeked a softer side of the mayor, took on entirely new meaning. Had those longing looks been a sign of wanting something deeper to connect them, or had Regina simply been sizing her up as another victim?
A hand on her shoulder made her jump and she turned to find her roommate's concerned face staring back at her. "Jesus, Mary Margret."
Snow appeared contrite and offered a small smile. "Sorry. Are you ok, Emma? This is a lot to take in, I know."
Emma could almost hear the other woman's gears turning and wanted to stop them before words started falling out of her mouth, prompting awkward questions. "Yeah," she responded quickly, shrugging off the concern. "Shall we see what else is in this house of horrors?"
No sooner had she said these words than a new sense of disquiet gripped the sheriff. All of her confusion over whether or not Regina had played on her desire for family dissipated with the rising hairs on the back of her neck. Following her instincts, she walked past shelves of odd-looking jars that contained nothing Emma recognised, and stopped with her hand on the edge of a heavy, velvet curtain. The pricking of her skin intensified as she seized the fabric and pulled it back.
The noise that escaped the sheriff's throat sounded barely human to her parents. Emma was on her knees beside Regina's fallen body before she even knew that she'd decided to move, and Snow and David's voices became inaudible to her as white-noise filled her head. She tried to check for a pulse or any sign of life, but her hands shook too much. The curse, the lies, Sheriff Graham, the wall of hearts all fled her mind as grief took over. Was this it? Was Regina dead? Tears gathered and fell before she could stop them.
Snow caught her husband's surprised expression and bit her lip. While she had a terrible idea for why their daughter was so upset, she knew this wasn't the place to talk about it. She wanted to comfort Emma, but didn't want to risk being rejected again, so settled her attention on the contents of the coffin on the table and the items on the floor.
"Oh!" she gasped. Daniel. A lump formed in her throat as she looked between his preserved form and the apple on the floor. Her gaze turned on her enemy and a forgotten sense of pity and regret gathered in her mind.
Hearing the exclamation, Emma turned to her friend and frowned. "What?" she asked cautiously. She still hadn't managed to find a pulse or any other sign of life but she was ready to grasp at any straw, no matter how small.
"I…" Snow began haltingly. She cleared her throat and gazed into glassy, green eyes. "I don't think she's dead, Emma." Reaching down, she collected the napkin and used it to pick up the remaining piece of apple. "I think she's under her own sleeping curse."
"Who would do this to her?" Emma wondered aloud, though she knew that half the town – the half that didn't want to outright kill her – would happily give the mayor a taste of her own medicine. "I mean, we had to break in. She must have locked herself inside, so who could have…"
She trailed off as she looked back at the body of her ex-lover and took in the scene again. That shirt. It's the one Henry lent me. Could Regina really be that sentimental about an item of clothing they'd shared? She wasn't wearing it at the fair or the hospital, she reminded herself. Then she spotted the broken clay and picked it up gently to examine it. Reading the single, poignant word 'Mommy' brought another tear to her eye and she abruptly understood what had happened.
"She did this to herself."
"It looks that way," the teacher agreed.
"Why would she do that?" David asked in confusion.
Snow caught Emma's gaze and held it for a moment before the blonde turned away in shame. "I suppose she finally gave up," she told her husband. "Maybe Emma's right. Regina loved Henry enough not to put him in harm's way." She stopped short of suggesting that there might be other motivations there too. My step-mother and my… No, don't think about it! "Whatever her motivation, it looks like we don't have to worry about any impending attacks."
"Well, this is good, right?" Charming concluded aloud, his chest expanding as a sense of satisfaction spilled over him. "Unless the Evil Queen has a true-love out there somewhere, we don't have to worry about her anymore." Emma glared at him and he shrank a little. "I'm sorry, Emma, but this is good news for the town. They can breathe easier knowing that she can't hurt them any longer."
"And what about our son, huh? What about Henry?"
David's eyebrow rose at the possessive pronoun, but quickly dismissed it. He had a feeling that there was more here than he understood, but it wouldn't change his opinion on whether or not Regina deserved this end. "Henry knew about Regina before any of us. He was the one trying to get you to break the curse. To defeat the Evil Queen. And you did it."
Filling with anger now, Emma stood and clenched her hands into fists. "He's ten!" she growled. "He might not have realised it before, but he loves her and the fact that you two are so casual about 'defeating the Evil Queen' is confusing for him because he misses her. He misses his mom." She could feel her anger building and spilling over – every dark thought from the past three days pouring out. "And don't say that I'm his mother now. I love him but I wasn't there for him, not like Regina was. You don't just get to jump in and claim someone when you weren't there for their entire childhood." Realising by the pained expression on her parents' faces that she'd ventured too far into her own muddled past, Emma turned away and found herself staring at the figure in the glass coffin. "Who's that?"
Snow sucked in a breath and cleared her throat. "His name is Daniel," she answered hoarsely. "He was her true love. He's the reason she spent so many years trying to hunt me down."
Emma swallowed hard. Her true love. Somehow, those words managed to cut deeper than anything else she'd learned about the mayor thus far. "Is he…?"
"Dead?" Snow asked. At the blonde's nod, she replied, "Yes." She felt her husband's arm around her shoulder and leant gratefully back into his solid presence.
Do I really want to know Regina's tragic love story? Will it change anything? Emma asked herself as the questions rose in the back of her mind. Considering the fact that she was a significant victim of this decades-old feud, she felt that she had a right to ask. "How did he die? How was it your fault?"
Charming bristled at the question. "It wasn't your mother's fault…"
"Charming," Snow interrupted gently. She placed a placating hand on his arm and looked sorrowfully between Regina's inert form and Daniel's. "I was young. She asked me to keep a secret from her mother and I failed. Cora… She didn't approve of the match. She wanted Regina to marry my father and took matters into her own hands. Cora killed Daniel. Regina blamed me."
Emma felt like she might throw up. She gazed down at the taught features of Mayor Mills and remembered the girl from her dream. Mother Dearest and a child bride. Almost. The girl on the pyre, who pleaded her innocence and begged for her life, she wasn't much older than Emma when she'd had Henry. No matter whether she was thirteen or thirty, being forced into marriage is sick. She pictured the wall of hearts and recalled the mixture of fear and anger that permanently twisted the mayor's expressions. She remembered those intimate moments when she seemed to cross an invisible line and Regina pinned her down with such force that she felt her own spike of dread. She remembered her concern over how tightly Regina clung to her son and her own enduring questions about the brunette's history. It explained so much, but – as she'd already told herself countless times – it excused nothing.
Suddenly, that anger was back, squeezing the sheriff's heart. "We need to move her to the hospital," she told the couple, her tone devoid of sympathy or caring now. She picked up Henry's handprint and placed it carefully in her pocket and then stepped over the body to rip the curtain back on the tiny room.
Thoughts?