Henry was dead.

Her son was dead.

Emma's heart was still pounding, echoing her feet as she had sprinted up the stairs of the hospital to the intensive care unit, only to see Dr Whale and Mother Superior emerging with heartbroken expressions.

She pushed past them, needing, yet not wanting, to confirm their unspoken news with her own eyes. Slowly she moved towards the curtain, to the nurse who was gently removing the various wires and - they'd tried everything, right down to trying to shock his heart back into a rhythm.

Part of her prayed that she'd see another child lying there, that maybe there had been a misunderstanding, but no - there was Henry, still and pale and …

It should have been her.

If she had just listened, paid attention to her gut and to the anomalies and to her son - who, yes, was only ten, but was always far older than his years …

But, no, she hadn't.

Her son was dead, because the Evil Queen had tried to kill her, and Henry had taken the poison instead.

Behind her, Regina broke down, turning to sob in the hasty embrace Whale offered her, but Emma wasn't paying attention.

"I know why you gave me up," he had said, oh-so-long ago. "You wanted to give me my best chance."

He had said it so much better than she could, taken away the necessity of trying to explain to a child that she had been abandoned, had no money, no education, and no prospects, and how could she possibly raise a child?

She hadn't held Henry when he was born, hadn't even allowed herself to look at him, because she knew it would hurt too much, and they had taken him away immediately, leaving her with an empty womb and a hole in her heart.

She had covered it up, buried it, pretended it didn't hurt - pretended that she didn't still carry her final sonogram in her wallet, a poor substitute for a baby photo, but a photo all the less - all until he had turned up on her doorstep, spouting stories of magic and witches and saviours.

"Break the curse," August had told her, just before he too slipped away in front of her.

Which curse?

The one Regina had cast the day she was born?

Or the one that apparently meant that everyone she let in was doomed to die before her?

She didn't care about the curse.

All she wanted was her son.

If she focused on that too much, however, she was bound to turn on Regina, and she took a shaky step forwards, then another one, and another.

Half of her was waiting for Regina to try and stop her, to try and pull her away from her son once again - part of her wished for it, for a reason to punch her that the people around her would understand - but Regina said nothing, still crying in a way that Emma doubted she had in a long time.

Finally, she was right at Henry's side and she reached out to brush the hair from his forehead. He wasn't quite cold to the touch just yet, and she choked back a sob, bending over her son.

"I love you, Henry."

Her lips touched his forehead and then, as she pulled back, she heard a sound - a wonderful, impossible sound.

Her son took a breath, gasping in air, as his eyes focused on her. "I love you too."

Regina took a step away from Whale, her tears drying on her cheeks. "You did it!"

Emma glanced over her shoulder, unable to keep from smiling, even at this woman who had tried to rip her family apart again, but she was distracted, not by Henry or by Regina, but by Dr Whale, who was staring, not at his magically resurrected patient, but at the mayor, with a slowly dawning expression of horror.

"Henry," Emma said slowly. "What's going on?"

Henry's face lit up. "The curse. I think you broke it."

The wave of magic hit Mary Margaret like a punch to the gut, rolling over her to leave Snow White standing in its wake. She stumbled, her eyes darting around this strange yet familiar place, two lives colliding in her head, leaving her feeling sick to her stomach.

Her daughter was here.

Her grandson was dying.

Her husband was …

Snow's eyes widened, turning on her heel to run hurry back to where she had seen David getting into his truck, where she had said goodbye and walked away.

If he had left town …

"He hasn't reached the border yet."

Mary Margaret knew that voice.

"How do you know?"

Kathryn Nolan smiled at her sheepishly. "He said goodbye not five minutes ago to me. It takes at least fifteen to reach the town line. He'll be back."

Snow blinked, letting the woman's face filter back into her memories. "Oh my god - Abigail!"

Princess Abigail smiled, throwing her arms around her friend. "Snow, I am so sorry!"

"No, I'm sorry," Snow said immediately. "I was having an affair with your husband."

Abigail pulled back, giving her a stern look. "I was fake married to your husband, and someone faked my death to frame you for murder."

Snow's eyes darkened. "I think we all know who that someone was."

"I know," Abigail said quietly. "But she was Kathryn's friend. Was any of it real?"

Snow hesitated. "I don't know. All I know is my daughter's here and my grandson is in the hospital and …"

"Your daughter?" Abigail repeated. "Emma?"

Snow nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "I've been living with my daughter for almost a year and I didn't know it. And Henry's dying."

"He's fine," Abigail said with certainty. "That blast was True Love's Kiss, I'm sure of it. If it broke the curse, I'm sure it saved Henry."

"Abby!"

Abigail's eyes lit up as Jim the gym teacher (apparently Regina did have a sense of humour somewhere) came sprinting round the corner.

Except - no - that wasn't Jim, was it? That was Frederick, Abigail's fiancé.

"Go," Snow said with a smile. "David has to be here somewhere."

'James' had never suited her husband, hence calling him Charming. And it hadn't taken him long to confide in her that 'James' wasn't actually his real name, but that of his deceased twin brother.

To this day, however, Snow was fairly sure that she and Abigail were the only living souls who knew that (with the obvious exception of King George and, apparently, Regina, unless she pulled 'David' out of thin air).

And the only reason Abigail knew was that she had been engaged to James initially, and she wasn't blind to the sudden change in personality.

"Snow!"

Snow froze mid-step, her eyes catching her husband's across the cross-walk.

And that was her husband - there was a gravitas that David Nolan had never possessed.

"Charming," she breathed, her feet moving before she had really thought about it.

A second later she was in her husband's arms, his hands tangling in her now-short hair, his mouth devouring hers.

"I'm so sorry," David breathed into the space between them.

Snow shook her head immediately. "We were cursed," she said firmly. "Abigail and I have already talked. She's with Frederick."

"Good," David said. "How long … I thought the curse was supposed be broken after 28 years?"

Snow frowned. "It did. I guess … Henry said we were living the year over and over again."

"That would explain why you don't look a day older," David said. "But how can you be so sure it's been that long?"

Snow pulled back to meet his eyes, searching them for any sign of humour.

Then she realised.

David had never been given Henry's fairytale theory, nor had he seen Emma's baby blanket.

"Wait …" he said slowly before she could say anything. "Sheriff Swan … Emma … Is that …?"

Snow gave him a tremulous smile. "That's our baby."

More people were coming into the hospital room, awestruck eyes focused on Emma and Henry. As Henry's words sunk in, Regina's relieved expression settled into one of horror.

"Oh no …"

"If I were you, Your Majesty," Mother Superior said, sarcasm dripping from the title, "I'd find a place to hide."

Instead, Regina jerked towards Henry, and Emma held herself back from physically shielding the boy, forcing herself to trust that Regina wouldn't harm him.

"Henry," Regina said urgently, "whatever you think of me - whatever they tell you - I do love you."

Henry didn't respond, unable to even really meet her eyes, and Regina turned on her heel and ran from the ward.

She was telling the truth, Emma knew, but here and now was not the time to try and convince Henry of that - not with the curse breaking and everyone around them looking to her for answers she didn't have.

"I'm sorry, Henry," Emma murmured, still gripping his hand. "I should have had more faith in you."

Henry smiled. "It's okay. You believe now, right?"

"I do," Emma assured him. "And as soon as we're home, I want to look at that book again. I know it's missing pages, but I want to read it cover to cover so I know what I'm dealing with."

The word 'home' triggered something in her mind. "Speaking of … if the curse is broken, why isn't everyone going back?"

Henry shrugged. "I don't know. The book didn't say what would happen when the curse broke."

Something shattered and Emma jumped, glancing over her shoulder to see that one of the nurses had dropped a tray of instruments, her eyes fixed on something out of the window.

Emma moved to her side, gently touching her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

The nurse didn't answer, and Emma followed her gaze to see a large purple cloud billowing above the tree line. "What is that?"

Henry came to her side and she wrapped an arm around him.

"Henry? What is that?"

Henry swallowed nervously. "Something bad."