Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time or the characters or settings therein. This is a work of fanfiction created for entertainment purposes only with all due respect and honor for the writing of the original show and love of the characters therein. No profit is being made from this story.

Author's Note: I am fully aware that you all must hate me a little and can't believe that it took me so long! Believe me, it was not intentional. And I do apologize. But hey, 2020 quarantine has at least given me the opportunity to finish this! Believe it or not, it was the diggity-dang epilogue that took so long. I had CH17 finished literally years ago. But I had all these great ideas I wanted to include in the wrap-up, and it was really hard to figure out how to fit them all together. This chapter was originally written well before the end of Season 5 and has been sitting on a thumb drive for… several years now. (P.S. Yes, I'm a horrible person taking this long to finish this fic. I know, I'm sorry. But it's done now!)

Writing Regina's dialogue in this chapter was so much fun! She is so dynamic and evocative and just plain mean sometimes, it's amazing. It took me a while to realize why I had so much fun with her dialogue, but I think it's because she says exactly what she wants to say and doesn't bother to concern herself how other people will take it. She speaks her truth as blatantly as she wants to and if it offends people, too bad for them. I only wish I could say all of the things that pop into my head, but through Regina I kind of got that chance.

Today's chapter title is a parody/homage to Rodgers and Hammerstein's "The King and I."

Chapter 17—Reginam Malam et Ego (The Evil Queen and I)

Killian adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword. Heart pounding, he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. In front of him, Henry stiffened, stepping back into him.

"Regina," David growled. "Where's Emma?"

The Queen shrugged. "How should I know? You're her father."

David sprung forward, sword extended, but the Queen lifted a hand and flicked her fingers. A spark of magic shot out and hit David in the chest, stopping him in his tracks. He wheezed and fell to one knee, his sword falling useless from his right hand as it spasmed and his left hand covering the spot the magic had penetrated.

Henry made a sound of protest and tried to rush forward, but Killian hooked his collar and pulled the lad behind him. Gritting his teeth, Killian blocked Henry from view. "Stay back, lad."

The Queen curled her lip, focusing her venom on Killian. "And you, Captain," she snapped as she sauntered close, looking down her regal nose at him. "I am disappointed. We had an agreement."

"An agreement that did not involve the death of innocent people and the destruction of an entire village," he replied.

"Strong words from a pirate," she mocked, cackling. "How many innocent people have you killed in your career? How many quaint little villages pillaged and plundered?"

Too many. He could almost feel the rings on his fingers—each a token from someone he'd murdered—flare up, burning his skin. Gods, he hoped Henry knew nothing of his past. "Perhaps I've developed a distaste for it."

"Weakness, you mean," she sneered. "And weakness is why you will never defeat Rumpelstiltskin. I needed you to do one thing, Captain. Help me incapacitate the Dark One long enough to get the dagger so that I can kill him. But no. You've developed 'a distaste' — or should I say cowardice — for what needs to be done."

"If you had kept your feud contained to the Crocodile, I would have been willing to help you," he snapped back, his blood pressure rising, making him want to strike out. How dare this viperous slag question his courage? "But destroying a village that has nothing to do with your scheme is beyond me, at the moment." He pulled in a quick, cool breath as a gust of wind spat raindrops at the tall windows, and somehow the sound, almost reminiscent of a rusty sword clattering onto the deck of the Jolly Roger, made him pause. Her feud with the Crocodile... "And what do you mean, you'll use the dagger to kill Rumpelstiltskin? That would—"

"Make me the new Dark One," she purred, flashing her teeth. "Yesss." He felt her sibilant hiss crawl up his neck and raise goosebumps.

"No," David whispered hoarsely, his face ashen.

"Oh, yes," she repeated, swishing the train of her gown out of her path as she stalked around them. "You see, after Rumple had my father murdered when I refused to cast his curse, I started doing my research on the Dark One. Did you know that he's been the Dark One for almost three hundred years? The longest to ever hold the title. Usually, they tend to last for a few decades, a century maybe, before someone new takes on the mantle. I think it's time someone helped Rumple to retire."

She waved a hand, and suddenly Killian found it impossible to move. He could blink and swallow, but his chest refused to allow him to pull in more than a shallow breath. He could not turn his head to see around him, though he heard the grunts of his companions as they struggled against whatever spell the Queen had cast. He had his sword in his hand, but his arm refused to move so that he could use the blade. His hook, attached to his left arm, was just as useless.

At least he wasn't being strangled this time, he comforted himself.

She turned to the empty space where Mara, Robin, and Tanner's voices had come from. "You may as well drop whatever spell you have keeping you invisible. You've already tipped our hand. And if you think your fairy allies will come inside my castle to help you, you're about to be very disappointed."

Mara must have let go of the men's hands as they became visible a second before she stepped out of the glass slippers.

Regina looked over at her captain of the guard and quirked an eyebrow. "Tell me, Huntsman, are any of these people the werewolf spy you've been in contact with?"

Killian sucked in a breath, echoed by David. He remembered the skirmish at the lake the first night after they found Emma. Red had told them that the Black Knights who attacked had been forewarned and forearmed, carrying silver weapons. The old wolf, Govery, had died that night, and it was clear they had a traitor in their midst. His eyes were on Tanner even before the Huntsman nodded his assent.

"Yes, my Queen," the Huntsman said. "The male wolf has been…most helpful to your cause."

Tanner stepped back, away from their party and closer to the Knights, a snide, leering grin on his face as his true allegiance was revealed. "I'm glad you approve of my work, Your Majesty."

"It's been most helpful," she approved.

"You…" Mara whispered, shocked. "You're how they knew to use silver-tipped weapons. You're how the Queen knew to disguise the scent of her men in hiding. How long? How long have you been working for her!"

"Oh, months," Tanner admitted. "I found one of the mirrors on the body of one of the Black Knights we killed, and when I opened it, the Queen made me an offer: I help her capture that bleeding-heart bitch, Red, and she would give me anything I want. I want my own pack and the freedom to hunt wherever and whatever I want." He shrugged. "I'm easy to please, and it was a perfect trade."

Mara growled and stepped toward her packmate, hands curled into claws.

The Huntsman—a wiry, older man, of an age as David, with a generous salting of white in his curly dark hair—moved surprisingly fast, bringing his gauntleted wrist down on the side of Mara's head. She stumbled and fell to one knee. Before any of the group could move to Mara's aide, the Huntsman hand whipped the bow over his head, knocked an arrow, and pointed it at Mara's throat.

"I'm sorry," he told her with what sounded like true regret in his voice. "Stay down. Please don't make me shoot you."

"You won't be able to if I shoot you first," Robin threatened, his own bow and arrow trained on the Huntsman's eye. He had moved in the same instant the other man had, and it was a draw as to which had armed himself first.

"It won't matter," the Huntsman said, his voice soft and sad. "If my queen commands me, I will shoot her even if it means my death. I have no choice."

Regina disappeared and reappeared by Robin's side, using magic to make his target switch to Roland, a shimmer of purple magic engulfing the old thief as he too is frozen in place. "You really shouldn't point arrows indoors, dear. You never know who might accidentally be hit."

She sneered at Robin, openly gloating, as Killian tried again to free himself from the magic, struggling against the invisible bindings. But suddenly the smirk dropped off the Queen's face, and she stepped forward. Robin, frozen with his arrow pointed at his son, gritted his teeth while Regina reached out and pushed the cuff of Robin's sleeve up his forearm to reveal the inside of his wrist. A tattoo stood out against the man's pale inner arm. The black field of a military shield with a stylized lion rampant covered Robin's veins and tendons. Regina's alabaster skin turned almost gray in the faint torch light as rain began to fall outside the glass pane of the window, and Killian wondered why the sight of the tattoo should affect the Queen so, and if they could use this to their advantage and somehow make it out of the castle alive.

"You…" she whispered to Robin in awe. "The man with the lion tattoo." She looked into Robin's face, studying every line and crease as if she could pry out the man's every secret. "Was it you all those years ago in that tavern?"

This was clearly a rhetorical question, as Robin was every bit as frozen as Killian. But Robin could frown in confusion as he flicked his eyes at Regina's wondering face. The Queen momentarily softened, and her whole face changed. Killian felt his heartbeat quicken; perhaps they might make it out of this alive after all. Perhaps Robin and his lion tattoo could convince the Evil Queen to spare them just as the promise of reuniting with Baelfire had softened Rumpelstiltskin.

"Do you know how many chances, how many opportunities to change I've received," Regina asked, voice mild and almost dream-like as she placed her hand on Robin's chest, just above his heart. "Frankly, I've lost count. First Rumple, then that interfering green fairy, then by Snow White, and finally by my own father."

Killian watched not able to turn his head and too curious, too intent on learning anything that might help them get out of this mess alive, to look away as the Queen rubbed her fingers over the archer's jerkin, basking in the heartbeat underneath.

"Out of all of them, I listened to my father. My whole life, he was the only one to love me unconditionally. When I was on the brink of plunging a knife into him to harvest his heart, which would allow me to cast a dark and terrible curse that would have ripped this land to pieces and finally given me my happy ending, he told me that I could change my path. That I could forget me revenge on Snow White, and I could still be happy."

She smiled slightly.

"I listened. I let him live. And do you know what happened? Two months later, when Rumpelstiltskin found out what I had done, one of my own Knights—a traitor and a spy— drove a knife through my father's heart seven times, destroying it completely, making it useless even to salvage as a magical ingredient. I hate spies."

She waved her free hand at the Huntsman, who pivoted and fired at Tanner. The arrow struck his heart, and the wolf staggered, the shock on his face comical as he tipped over, thrashed once, and went still. The Evil Queen did not even bother to turn and look.

"I tried to give up my power, my life, for the love of my father. And it got me nothing." She leaned into Robin, close enough to briefly brush her rich red lips against his in a soft kiss and then pulled back. Her face hardened to stiff fury as a bolt of lightning lit the room and the storm outside the castle hit in all its fury. The Queen's hand, the one that had been resting on Robin's chest, plunged inside and ripped out the glowing gem of his heart. "Even if it was you in that tavern, it doesn't matter now," she snarled. "I have my happy ending. I had my revenge on Snow White. I have my power, and soon I'll have even more. I won't give it up for you."

She leaned back and clenched her hand tightly shut. Killian watched, helpless, as Robin's eyes widened and even through the spell, he grunted in pain. Killian heard Roland beside him struggle, gurgling in his throat as he tried to call for his father. Too late. Too late. Fine dust and ash slipped through the Evil Queen's fingers as Robin collapsed to the floor, his bow falling from his hand and clattering on the flagstones as thunder shook the castle.

Bile rose up his throat and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. Dark spots danced across his vision, and a high whine like an injured puppy came from Henry. Damn it. Damn it all.

"Now then!" Regina chirped, suddenly all cheer as she dusted her hands off. "Where is that bird-brained daughter of yours, shepherd? Since the pirate has proven to be spectacularly disappointing, I need her blood to help me kill Rumpelstiltskin."

A gust of wind charged down the corridor, whistling and wailing, from the still-open door at the bottom of the stairs. And riding the wind with impeccable timing was an avenging angel, her white wings curved slightly to turn her into an avian battering ram. Regina barely had time to turn around before Emma Swan barreled passed Black Knights, sending them scrambling out of her way, and crashed into the Queen, knocking her to the ground.

The satisfying thunck of the Queen's head hitting the tiled floor was followed by a gasp, punctuating the breaking of the spell that held him. The magic rippled along his skin like a retreating tide. The blow must have broken her concentration, for he found that he could now move. Killian pulled a gasping Henry down and hid him behind a marble statue of a unicorn, ordering him to stay put. David and Roland shimmered for an instant, and then they too were in action.

From the foyer below, Killian heard Grumpy's distinctive war cry and the pounding of dozens of boots upon the stairs. Soon the five dwarves, a contingent of Merry Men, and Red's werewolves entered the fray. Mara lunged forward at the Huntsman, hands curled into claws. The Black Knights were now divided, having to protect two fronts, but Killian saw Regina begin to pick herself up off the floor, her hair askew. She hissed at Emma, gathering magic to her, but one of her own Knights and the thief he was engaging got in her way, blocking her aim.

Killian blocked two sharp strikes from one of the Knights, and pushed the man back into the waiting clutches of Red, who snapped his neck.

Off to one side, he spotted Swan beating her wings violently against one of the Black Knights. One flap had already knocked his helmet off, but she was barely keeping the man at bay now. Her white feathers were flecked with blood where he'd slashed her.

Killian pushed his way through the fray and to Emma's side. He caught the attacking knight right under his breastplate, driving his sword point into his soft belly. Idiot wasn't wearing chainmail. What was the point of all that heavy armor if you didn't even wear the important bits? The man screamed and fell as Killian pulled his blade free.

Regina's shriek of fury was barely a warning to brace himself before a wave of dark magic sent him and most of the other combatants—friend and foe alike—sliding and tumbling across the tiles.

"I have had enough of this!" Regina raged.

Hook found his feet and realized he was pressed against one of the far windows. A long strip of open corridor extended between him and Swan, and Regina had clearly not been injured as badly by her fall as he'd hoped. Now she gathered her magic in a fireball that outstripped the previous ones in size and intensity ten-fold. It was the size of the Queen's head and glowed a malevolent blue at its heart.

Killian caught Henry's movement from the corner of his eye. He had no clue what the boy intended, but it would no doubt distract the Queen. He lashed with his hook, shattering the glass in the window at his back, allowing the cold rain to pour in the now empty casing just as Henry barreled into Regina's legs, bringing the regal Queen tumbling down for a second time that night.

"Go, Swan!" he shouted at her, clearing away the last of the glass with his elbow, thankful for the protection of his leather coat.

Emma needed no further prompting. She charged down the long hall, her webbed feet slapping the floor in a staccato beat, her wings adding a slower bass thump with each flap as she finally gained enough thrust to take to the air. She flew out of the great hall and into the storm.

Killian used his left arm to push his now-soaked hair out of his eyes as he surveyed the wreckage of the hall. Regina pushed Henry off of her—surprisingly gently, given the murderous expression on her face—and leveled an acidic glare at him. She bared her teeth in a snarl. Then, closing her eyes, she lifted her hands. A swirl of purple smoke engulfed her from sole to crown, and when it cleared, a giant black eagle owl hovered a moment in midair. With a powerful downbeat of her wings, Regina darted down the hall, her avian screech echoing. Killian ducked as she went through the open window—just in time to feel one of her talons graze the back of his head.

The Queen's Huntsman stood, and Killian sprung back to his feet, sword raised. Every instinct was shouting at him to run, find Emma, help her. But there were still a dozen Black Knights between him and the door. Around him, the Knights and Killian's allies all struggled to their feet, and he waited for the battle to resume. But the Huntsman surprised him. He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each of his men, and held up a hand in a clenched fist.

"Knights, stand down."

And damned if they did not do just that.

"Stand down?" David asked from across the hall. "But—?" Lightning flashed, illuminating the hall and the faces of every man in it. "I know you," David mused. "You're the Knight who helped me escape from Regina's palace all those years ago, when she had poisoned Snow with her cursed apple."

The Huntsman almost smiled, but it never reached his eyes. "The Queen may have my heart, but I've had many years to find my way around her orders. These are all men I trust," he said, gesturing to the other Black Knights, each taking his helmet off and dropping it to the floor, removing the anonymity of the obscuring black mesh to reveal the faces of ordinary men. "I chose them for this assignment with the hope that you could defeat the Queen. Since Her Majesty gave me no direct orders to keep fighting, we stand down."

Suddenly Henry was standing in front of him — on his right, unfortunately, and Killian couldn't hook his collar to move him to safety as he normally would. "The Huntsman is the one who told me what happened the night Emma was cursed," the lad explained. "The Queen is still after her! We have to go and help her!"

"I agree," Killian said. "However, as much as I appreciate it when my enemies surrender, you'll forgive me if I don't quite trust you."

"With all due respect, he's right," David apologized to the Huntsman. "Mara, I need you and the Dwarves to tie up the remaining Knights. We have to get to Emma," he finished, looking over at Killian.

He nodded, swiping his bloodied sword against his trouser leg before sheathing it. He took a last look around the room, making sure none of the Black Knights decided they would rather throw in with the Queen after all, and spied Roland kneeling beside his father's body. Killian eased over to join them.

Robin remained where he fell, sprawled on the floor, his lifeless eyes staring up at the vaulted ceiling. Roland leaned over him, his head bowed, and hands gripping his father's jerkin, tugging sporadically, as if he were a small boy trying to wake his father from a very deep sleep.

"Roland?" he asked.

The archer shook his head, clinging tighter to his father. "Just go."

Killian listened. There was nothing Killian could do for him now, not with Emma still in danger. In moments, David, Henry, and Killian were back outside, the wind lashing the cold, stinging rain into them like a cat-o-nine, each drop a barb cutting into his cheeks and forehead.

The Merry Men had, for a change, come on horseback; where they had found the horses, Killian could care less. He and David each grabbed a bridle, mounted up, got Henry seated behind David, and rode out. But how were they supposed to track two birds? In a storm? After so many wasted minutes dealing with the unexpectedly amicable Black Knights. He should have vaulted out of the window after them as soon as Regina went through. At least then he would have a direction.

In the dark, in the rain, every bloody tree looked the same. How the bloody hell were they even supposed to know if they were about to head off of a cliff, much less find Emma? Killian hated this feeling, this burning, nauseating, awful bloody feeling of helplessness. Every time someone he cared about — and yes, fine, he cared about Princess Emma, the Emma Swan, more than he had thought he could care for anyone again, and he'd only known her a few weeks — was in harm's way, he was powerless to help him, to save her.

He heard Henry say something to David, but the shattering sound of the leaves overhead being whipped by the wind and pelted by rain mixed with thunder and the pounding of the horse's hooves, and he could not make out a word. But somehow, as always, Henry embodied hope. Killian could not make out Henry's words, but knowing the boy as he did, it would be something about having faith and the true-hearted belief that the Enchanted Forest itself would help guide them.

If the Forest can hear me, he silently prayed, now would be the time to do something miraculous and point us in the right direction.

A bolt of lightning sizzled from one cloud to another high above the trees, and Killian instinctively glanced up even as he fought to keep control of the horse under him. Ahead and to the left, a glimmer of white feathers caught his eye. An angry trumpet from the swan was swallowed by the thunder, but he had her now. He knew where she was. He yelled to David, and they adjusted their path through the forest, following.

He watched Emma zigzagging through the trees trying to lose the dark form of the eagle owl Killian could barely make out in the darkness, but her body was not made for maneuverability, certainly not in close quarters. He lost her for a moment, and he shouted his frustration to the storm, but then they were through a break in the trees. The lake extended on either side of a long causeway, throwing back ambient light and allowing Killian to catch sight of the eagle owl darting into the trees where the road ran deeper into the forest.

Killian had no idea how far they had come. The rain had slowed, but the oppressive weight of the storm still roiling overhead pressed down on them, making his hair on the back of his neck stand up with the potential for lightning. He knew the horse was tired and terrified. He was pushing the beast at full gallop, and soon, surely, it would balk and refuse to move — but not yet, please all gods, not yet.

He crossed the causeway in moments and plunged back into the trees, David and Henry close behind. The return to utter darkness momentarily blinded him. Then a flash of purple light ahead of him and somehow downward — in a low gully, perhaps — lit the way. The light was followed by a woman's scream, Emma, and the cacophony of a harsh landing. He was off his horse before it had even stopped. He, David, and Henry ran forward, heedless of the slick leaf-cover on the ground, barely able to stop themselves from tumbling into the hollow Regina had chosen for this last stand.

Ten feet away from the women, and they were stopped dead. It was as if they had hit a stone wall. True to her dramatic form, Regina had clearly placed a magical dome around them, keeping the rain, wind, and potential interference out of her little battleground. It cast an eerie light over the ground and its occupants.

Killian looked through the barrier that was not there and saw Emma sprawled in human form, her clothing torn, and face scratched and bleeding. She had obviously crashed when Regina shifted her back. He could see her, hear her cursing and grunting, he just couldn't get to her.

The Queen, now also back in human shape, stood over Emma, taunting. Killian had never hated her more.

"I realized my mistake after our little altercation in the mountains. I tried to rip out the heart of a product of True Love," the Queen said, her mouth twisting as if the words were sour. "Apparently that doesn't work very well. But…." She raised her hand, and with a twitch of her fingers, she suddenly held a long knife. "I can still cut your throat, ducky. Even 'the Savior' isn't immune to a steel blade."

"You can't harm me, remember?" Emma snarled back, pushing herself up on her hands and knees, but still glaring defiance at the Queen. "It's the whole reason you had to settle for cursing me instead of killing me. That protection is still in place."

"I can't harm you in this world," Regina sweetly reminded her. "And that's easy enough to take care of." A wave of a hand, a puff of burgundy smoke, and a top hat appeared in her free hand. "Your death is only one portal away."

Emma struggled to her feet, cradling her left hand against her stomach. Broken arm? Sprained wrist? Impossible to know, and the frustration erupted in him. He bared his teeth and raised his hand to slam it against the magical barrier, for all the good he knew it would do him.

But David caught his hand.

Killian turned on him, mouth open to ask what the bloody hell David thought he was doing, but he saw David holding a finger to his lips, looking up. Killian looked, and a tiny periwinkle light flitted through the treetops above them. Nova had come to help.

Even with that glimmer of hope, he could only keep his eyes off of Emma for a second. When he looked again, she had twisted her good hand, and tried to pull up her own fireball — at least, Killian thought that was what she attempted. Barely a spark flared golden in her hand before it flickered out.

Regina cackled. "You may have magic, dear, but you have no idea how to use it. Here is how it's done." She pulled up a fireball and lobbed it not at Emma but at David. Out of instinct, Killian grabbed him, and threw them both to the ground. The fireball crackled as it passed through the barrier, intentionally or unintentionally dissolving the barrier entirely, before it passed over their heads.

Regina laughed and created another, this time aiming at the fallen Princess.

"No!" Henry cried out, jumping into the hollow before he could stop the boy.

"Henry, stay back!" Emma shouted.

"Yes, Henry, stay out of this," Regina commanded.

Henry didn't listen, of course, and he was fast. Henry reached Emma before Regina could stop him, and wrapped his arms around her.

"Are you okay?" Henry asked.

"I'm okay," Emma lied. "But you can't be here."

Henry turned to Regina. "I'll stay with you!" he promised her. "I mean it this time. I'll stay, but please! You have to stop!"

"Henry, I am doing this for you!" Regina insisted. "She needs to die so that we can be happy. Once she's gone, you'll forget about her. I'll have the power of the Dark One, and then I can give you anything you want!"

"Emma dying won't make me happy," Henry pleaded. "She's my mom. I love her. I don't want her to die."

Killian held his breath, and it seemed as if the world did, too. The rain stopped. The wind paused. Nothing moved as Emma looked in awe at her son. He could see it in her face, and he wanted to move, to scream for her to stop, but some ineffable weight paralyzed him. Emma thought this would be the last time she would ever look on Henry. She was going to let Regina kill her if it meant keeping her boy safe. It was written on her face as clearly for him to read as her love for her son.

"Henry," Emma murmured, reaching out to pull him to her. "I love you, too."

She leaned down and kissed his forehead.

A white blast of magic rippled out from mother and child, as sweet and warm and floral as the first time Killian had felt this power echoing with the sound of bells and laughter chiming through him. When it passed, he knew with a certainty he felt down to his bones that the curse on Emma was broken. One last distant rumble of thunder echoed, and a lighter rain began to fall.

"No!" Regina wailed.

"It's gone," Emma said in wonder. "I can feel it. The curse is gone." She grinned down at her son, and Killian felt himself smiling as he climbed back to his feet and started edging into the gully. For the first time since Regina had revealed her true form, he felt like they might actually win.

The feeling was a tad premature, he'd admit.

"This changes nothing!" Regina screamed, spinning the hat as she let it drop. A whirling vortex opened up, pulling leaves and branches into the portal and tugging at Killian's clothing and hair. He heard Regina order, "Henry, move away!"

"No!" the boy shouted back. "I won't let you do this!"

"Move now, or you lose your last chance, Henry," she warned.

Henry jutted out his chin. "No, you lost your last chance. I choose my mom. I am not moving!"

Utter wrath contorted Regina's face, the rain causing her makeup to run and transforming the Queen's lovely features into a ghoulish mask. "So be it."

Regina raised her hand and magically grabbed Emma by the ankle, yanking her toward the portal. Emma pushed Henry aside with her good hand, and Henry stumbled away. David ran forward and grabbed the boy, hauling him back, as Killian ran forward.

"No!" he shouted, scrambling to get to her, to go with her for protection, if nothing else. Regina thrust out a hand, and Killian felt an invisible grip on his throat. This time it was not just choking him, it lifted him off the ground.

"You're not a hero, Captain," Regina scolded him. "Stop pretending like you are one."

She tossed him to the side as if he were a doll. He landed and tried to roll, protecting his head, and thanked whatever power looked out for him that he did not hit a tree. When he could see again, Regina had grabbed Emma's injured arm and twisted.

"Now come along, ducky," she said. "We have a portal to catch."

Killian tried to roll back to his feet, but he was too late.

There was a hiss of displaced air, a muffled thunk, and Regina jerked. She dropped Emma's arm in surprise and stumbled back as an arrow shuddered in her chest. She stared down at the wooden shaft for a second, and then her knees crumpled.

Killian hesitated a heartbeat longer before he ran forward, fighting the pull of the vortex until he reached Emma. He grabbed her around the waist, and hauled her back. Her good hand clamped down on his arm as they both stared in shock at…at the body of the Evil Queen.

Almost as one, the four of them looked up toward the rim of the gully. Roland stood in the trees above the hollow, bow in hand. Nova's lavender light from where she perched on his shoulder illuminated the anger and grief on the young thief's face.

All at once, the portal stopped spinning and returned to the shape of a slightly battered top hat. Killian could feel Emma breathing heavy and starting to shiver violently. David pressed Henry's face into his chest to keep him from seeing Regina's now clearly lifeless body. It took Killian a long time to realize that the rain finally stopped.