The Doctor had found his way back to his TARDIS. Well, he had summoned the TARDIS to him with his sonic and went to tell his son and Clara the news. What he had found out and what the Charmings had planned to do.
"Another curse?" the Professor asked. The Doctor nodded. "I'm afraid so."
Clara held on to her daughter tightly. She feared what would happen. Of what would become of herself and them. "What's going to happen to us?"
The Professor stroked Clara's hair gently, trying to calm her down. He knew she had always liked that. "If it's like the first curse, nothing. I kept my memories. I managed to keep everything. It just transports us back to Earth. Back to home."
The Doctor nodded. "Let me see if I can send a message to River," he said. "Maybe she can help us."
"Yes. Of course. She could get Emma back to Storybrooke. To her parents," the Professor said.
"But Emma won't remember anything, does she?" Clara asked.
The Professor sighed. "Of course," he said, then got up. "But I know where I must go. Back to the Dark Castle."
Clara reached out for his hand. "Don't. I may not see you again."
"You will. I have faith in our love," he told her. "Dad. Don't send anything until I come back." And with that, the Professor waved his hand and disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke.
After having tainted the new Dark Curse with a forgetting potion, the Wicked Witch arrived back at the Dark Castle and was now making an antidote. Enough for herself and Rumplestiltskin so they both could remember who they were in the new land. Or, at least, of her plan, anyway.
The Professor had poofed himself in. Discreetly, of course. He hid behind the large mirror closest to the table, and he couldn't believe what he had seen. The Dark One's dagger was lying there. He took a deep breath, conjured up a fake one, and waited for the right time to swap them.
Meanwhile, Rumplestiltskin was watching the Wicked Witch too. He let out an impish giggle. "Wolf's blood! Dragon's scale! I've tasted this brew before!"
"We're about to take an unplanned trip, my pet," the Wicked Witch said, pouring the antidote into two small bottles. "The curse is coming." She walked back to the cage.
But as she did, the Professor knew he had his chance. Her back was to him, and he swapped the two daggers over in a cloud of blue smoke. The fake was on the table. And the real one was in his hands.
"You failed, you failed, you failed…." Rumplestiltskin said to the Wicked Witch, repeating himself over and over.
"Don't be so dour," the Wicked Witch told him and opened the cage door. "What I need to do can be done from any land. I will succeed in changing the past. My spell will work."
"But only if you remember it."
"Which I will. With this." She held up one of the vials. "To keep my valuable recollections safe and sound." She opened the lid and drank the liquid inside. "Mmm." She handed Rumplestiltskin the other vial. "Here. Drink it, dump it out, sing it a song. Your brains are still mine. If you want to remember the loss of your son, so be it. But if you'd prefer to stumble about blind and stupid with the rest of them, be my guest."
The Wicked Witch chuckled and turned away. She walked past the table and picked up the Dark One's dagger – the fake Dark One's dagger – and walked out of the room.
"Memories are pain," Rumplestiltskin began, looking at the vial and walking towards a wall. "Pain is strength." He opened the bottle. "For vengeance." He was about the drink from it when he was pushed back against the wall. His face began to change, and he groaned and strained. Another face was showing—Baelfire's. And in a flash of bright light, Baelfire stepped out of his father's body, holding the vial himself - while the body of Rumplestiltskin dropped to the ground.
"We don't need to remember," Baelfire said. "Emma does."
The Professor stepped out from his hiding spot, having put the dagger inside his coat. "Yes, she does," he said. "That's why I'm here. For a memory potion."
Baelfire turned around. "Professor … How long have you been here?"
"The past few minutes," he answered and approached Baelfire. "My father and I … We're going to send an old friend of ours a message. To find Emma. But we need that memory potion. When she finds her, Emma will get her memories back."
Baelfire nodded. "Yes. Of course," he said, handing the vial over to the Time Lord. But he then began to pant heavily.
"Are you alright?" the Professor asked.
"I'm connected to my father. We're not meant to be apart for this long. Go! Emma needs you! She needs to remember!"
The Professor nodded, and he disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke before Baelfire collapsed back into his father's body.
The Professor appeared back in front of the TARDIS, where the Doctor was waiting for him. In the distance, they could see the curse clouds slowly make their way towards them. The Professor rushed over to his father. "Here," he said. "This should help River. And Emma too." He gave the vial to the Doctor. "Is the message ready?"
The Doctor took out a white box from inside the TARDIS. A hypercube. "It is," he said, opening a small hole at the top and inserting the vial inside. "A special one to house that vial." He held it up above them, and it glowed white. "You know what to do. Find her. Find River Song. And tell her to find Emma Swan. To tell her that her family is in danger."
The hypercube floated up, and slowly, it began to spin around. Faster and faster, before it took off in the night sky, racing off to River Song.