David rearranged his hands on the steering wheel, letting out a tense breath. Everything's fine, he told himself. Don't freak out—you can handle this.

"David," Snow muttered. "David, she's staring at me."

He glanced in the rearview mirror: Cora, sitting primly in the seat behind him, was staring at Snow with gleaming eyes; a smile frozen on her lips.

"Cora, stop staring at her," he sighed.

"Her? Oh, you mean the woman who tricked my daughter into murdering me, and forced her to watch me die in her arms?" Cora chuckled, giving her head a little shake. "You're right—how rude of me!"

"Says the woman who murdered my mother!" Snow shot back.

"Oh, you didn't know your mother like I did, I was doing you a favor!" Cora snapped.

"Ladies, please!" David said. "I'm driving!"

Snow made a noise like an angry cat, while Cora folded her arms tightly and glared at David in the mirror. David tightened his grip on the wheel and refocused on the road, steadfastly ignoring her.

They drove in silence (other than the sound of Snow's teeth grinding). David tried not to think about the fact that the last time he'd dealt with this woman, she'd been trying to kill them all. Rumple had put the magic-repellant cuff on her arm, in case she decided she was tired of playing nice for the twenty minutes it had been since she'd returned, but it didn't do much for his peace of mind.

"Where are we going?" Cora asked, her voice petulant. "No one's explained a damn thing to me, can I at least know where we're going?"

"We're going to the station," David said steadily. "Which I already told you three times."

"I know, I was hoping you'd changed your mind," she grumbled. "I want to see Regina."

"Which you've told us three times."

"More than three," Snow muttered.

"I want to see her!" Cora insisted. "She's my daughter—you can't stop me from seeing my daughter!"

"It's the middle of the night, Cora," David said, trying to remain patient. "Just give her a few hours, we'll sort it all out in the morning."

"Then at least tell me what Rumple meant when he said 'her condition' and 'bad for the baby', because I'm ninety-nine-percent sure I know exactly what he meant, but no one's bothered to say anything more about it!"

"It's Regina's story to tell," David said, which he knew perfectly well was a copout.

"But—"

"Oh, it's Adele's new song! Here, I'm going to turn it up!"

He turned up the volume, letting Adele's voice drown out the sound of Cora's bitching. Snow closed her eyes on relief, mouthing a, Thank you.

David nodded, bumping the volume a bit more as Cora started complaining about the magic music boxes. Magic music boxes…Back to this, eh? It had been enough of a hassle, trying to get Hook to modernize and putting up with all his (stubborn) confusion (which cleared up suspiciously quickly, once Ruby had gotten involved), but dealing with Cora was going to be nothing short of pure hell.

Although, it was probably going to be hell, whether she was good with modernity or not: it was Cora. Between his small experience and Regina and Rumple's cautionary anecdotes, he understood that she was quite possibly the most difficult, manipulative, unnerving woman in all the realms—even more so than Regina. And frankly, that terrified him.

Naturally, as a cop, he couldn't let his terror show: he had to be the voice of reason, the logical one. Let the townsfolk run amok with their anxiety and paranoia—David Nolan had a situation to get under control, and he didn't have time to let his mind wander around the possibilities Cora's return provoked.

It was time to be a leader in this town again, to step between his people and the threat facing them. It was time to be a hero, damn it!

With his newfound determination, David jerked the wheel, pulling roughly into station's parking lot. Snow had to brace her hands on the dashboard to keep from sliding, and Cora crashed her head into the window, but David barely spared them a second glance, already swinging out of the driver's seat and opening Cora's door.

"Step out of the vehicle," he ordered. "Nice and slow…"

"I'll go my own damn pace, thanks," Cora snapped, still rubbing her head; still scowling as she stepped out of the car. David put his hand on her arm, guiding her up the walkway and through the station doors.

"What are you going to do with me, anyway?" she asked as he nudged her inside. "Lock me up in a cell? I'm not dangerous, I'm wearing the cuff!"

"I'm putting you in the cell for your own good," David assured her. "You're not being arrested, I just…need a place to keep you until I can get Dr. Hopper down here."

"Dr. Hopper?"

"Oh, you remember Dr. Hopper," Snow drawled, following them with her hands in her coat pockets. "You faked his death, and kidnapped him to be physically and mentally tortured by your boytoy, so you could frame your daughter for murder and turn the whole town against her."

Cora frowned, tilting her head. "…It's not ringing a bell."

"Well, maybe you'll remember when you see him," David suggested. "It would be a good opportunity to apologize."

"And why am I seeing him?" Cora asked as he slid the barred cell door open. "I don't need a doctor, I feel fine."

"He's a therapist," David explained patiently. "He's going to evaluate how mentally stable you are, before I release you into Regina's custody."

"What does that mean? Hey!" Cora whirled around as the door slid shut, her eyes wide with fury. "David!"

"Just for a while," he promised, locking her in.

"How dare you! I am a queen! David Nolan, I'm talking to you!" she hollered after him. David sighed tiredly, rubbing his hand over his eyes as he retreated into Emma's office. Snow followed, closing the door behind them to muffle Cora's furious voice. She folded her arms, watching him with a concerned frown as he dropped into the chair.

"You going to be okay?" she asked.

David blinked at the ceiling a few times. "I don't know," he said after a minute. "It was one thing to have Graham come back, I didn't even know him. I knew Cora. I saw her dead body." He shook his head slightly. "And now, she's sitting in a holding cell, shouting obscenities at me."

"David," Snow said gently, walking across the small space to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I know it's a lot, but…really, it's not that bad. You'll get used to it. I did, with Graham."

"I'm worried about the town," David said. "Graham's the nicest person in the world, everyone was thrilled to have him back. But Cora?"

"I know," she sighed. "But we'll get through it. We'll get everyone through it. I promise." She kissed the top of his head, and straightened up, pulling him to a stand. "Now, let's lock up, and we'll come back in the morning with Archie."

"I can't," David said, shaking his head. "She can't be left unsupervised, absolutely not."

"She's got the cuff—"

"Don't care."

"—and she's in the cell—"

"Don't care."

Snow sighed, dropping his hands. "Can we at least get a cup of coffee?"

"You go," David advised. "I'm going to stay here, I don't want to leave her alone."

"Fine, fine…" Snow adjusted her purse strap wearily. "I'll bring you back a cup, okay?"

David nodded, smiling faintly when she kissed him goodbye. Once she'd left, he shifted back into the chair, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He punched in a number and put the phone to his ear, letting out a slow breath as he waited.

"Hello?"

"Rumple? It's David."

"I know, I've got Caller ID."

David closed his eyes, his exasperation already rising. "Great, that's—that's great. Listen, uh…I've got Cora in the holding cell now—"

"Locked, I hope?"

"Yeah, it's locked. But, I gotta tell you, that's not doing much for my nerves." David scratched the back of his head. "Any chance you could come by, help me keep an eye on her? Since she's got magic, and I…you know, don't?"

Rumple groaned. "I'm exhausted, David. Henry's already nodding off, and I'm nearly home—"

"I could also argue that this situation is entirely your fault," he pointed out. "She's your responsibility."

"Henry's."

"Who is a minor. Yours."

Rumple exhaled reluctantly. "All right. Let me drop Henry off with Belle, and make a pot of coffee, and I'll be on my way."

"Thank you."

"And David?" Rumple said before he could hang up. "If I were you, I might call Emma. You know—your cop daughter who not only has a gun, but also magic? Who is more qualified than me to deal with Cora at this hour of night?"

"You're plenty qualified," David assured him. "But, if it'll make you feel better, I'll call Emma." He paused, glancing at the still-raging Cora through the window. "Might make me feel better, too."

Emma's eyes flickered open. Something had woken her up, and since it was—she squinted to read the fuzzy numbers on her clock—1:17 in the morning? Okay, yeah—that "something" was going to die.

She looked around for the source of the buzzing, eyes scrunched up as she fumbled around for the phone. "Shut up—shut up—" her hand closed around the small metal rectangle, chirping insistently with David's beaming face flashing on screen. That was actually a pretty goddamn adorable picture of her dad, but right now, she hated it.

"What do you want?" she growled into the phone.

"Emma? It's me—"

"I know it's you, what do you want?"

"I need a deputy right now," David said, the dad-joke effect creeping into his voice. "Up for the task?"

"Not even a little bit. Have a nice night."

"Don't hang up!" he said hastily, apparently reading her mind. "Look—we got a situation, and I need another cop."

"I'm not a cop, I'm a Savior."

"Even better."

"I mean, I'm not a cop, I'm a civilian and in no way authorized to deal with whatever cops need to deal with at this highly unreasonable hour. Night-night, Dad."

"Cora!" he shouted, just as she was about to hang up. Emma frowned, and cautiously brought the phone back to her ear.

"What about Cora?" she said, ignoring her exhaustion in favor of growing panic. "Don't tell me—"

"He did it," David said grimly. "Henry brought back Cora. She's in the holding cell right now. Your mother and I are just outside the station, we can still hear her shrieking."

"He brought her back?" Emma choked, the air freezing in her lungs. Cora Mills, the witch who had terrorized the entire town, who had nearly sabotaged her chance to get back to her boy, who had nearly killed her entire family…was back? "H-how? How did he even—?"

"No idea. You'll have to ask Rumple." David paused. "He's probably waiting for you to ask him, anyway. He seems really proud of himself."

"Oh, my God." Emma raised herself to a seat, pushing a shaky hand through her hair as she tried to process everything. "God, I can't…I can't believe this. This is—this is insane. This is insane."

"And also why I need you down here," David pressed. "Get that rear in gear, Sheriff."

He hung up, giving her no option to argue. Not that she would have, she reflected, jumping out of bed and fishing around for her jacket. Cora was back, and yes, that was terrifying: but right now, she had to ignore that because she had to make sure that there was no threat to her family—even though, it really was a ridiculous hour to be making sure there was no threat to her family, and if Henry could have waited just three or four more hours—

She frowned, her fingers feeling around her neck for the familiar ring of silver to twirl her keychain…and coming up empty. For a minute, she thought—maybe it was caught in her shirt or under her bra strap. But no, it wasn't there, either.

She felt more frantically, both hands patting around her neck, looking for her chain. "Where's my keychain?" she muttered. "Keychain, where's my—?"

Hadn't she put it back on? She did, every night, she wouldn't have forgotten…right? Granted, she'd been pretty exhausted from all the effort of moving Hook out of Neal's apartment, and her in, but…she couldn't have forgotten to check for her necklace before bed? It was one of the most precious things she owned, beside her baby blanket and her Bug.

She hovered on her feet, clutching the sides of her head nervously. What do I do? She knew David needed her down at the station, but—well, she had time to look for her keychain, didn't she? He would understand, it was her keychain, for Christ's sake! The same keychain she'd reminisced over just yesterday—the one she'd practically sobbed over—and it was gone? She shook her head in disbelief, checking her neck again as if it had magically reappeared in the last five seconds. It couldn't be gone, it couldn't…

She hurried over to the bathroom, bumping the light switch with her elbow and scanning her eyes frantically around the counter for the little gleam of silver. Did it fall on the floor? She dropped to her knees, her hands freezing on the cold tile floor. Not there, either.

"Shit." She pushed herself up, and dashed back to her room, looking wildly around. To the dresser—she opened drawers, tossing out the already unfolded clothes out—not there. The little night stand—her hands flew over it, feeling frantically—not there. Under the bed—she kicked stray shoes out of the way, pushed old shoe boxes—not there.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Emma closed her eyes, knowing it was David without even looking at the screen.

"I know, I know," she exhaled, picking up without even a hello. "I'm on my way, be there in ten."

"Where are you?"

"At the loft, I was just—"

"You didn't even leave yet? Emma, look, I know it's early, but—"

"My keychain!" she said over him. "I lost my keychain, I was looking for it. I can't find it anywhere, I don't even know when I lost it—how I lost it—but it's gone." Emma braced her hand on her hip, frowning as the weight of realization dragged on her shoulders. "My keychain's gone."

Sixteen years, she'd had it. Sixteen years, it was her constant reminder of Neal and everything he meant to her, everything between them…and just like that, it was gone. She couldn't focus without it 'round her neck, she just felt weightless.

"Well…" David seemed to be holding back his impatience. "Maybe we can look for it when we get back."

"Yeah." She let out a slow breath, resigning herself to leaving without it. "I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay."

"Where's Henry, by the way?" she asked, picking up her keys. "I want to talk to him."

"Rumple dropped him off with Belle, he fell asleep in the car."

"And what about Rumple?"

"He's on his way—just wants to make some coffee, he said."

Emma wrinkled her nose at the thought of Rumple's watery, grainy coffee, and gagged. "Ugh."

"I know," David agreed grimly. "Your mother's getting some coffee—you want me to tell her to bring you back one?"

"Two," Emma corrected. "I need the caffeine boost to stay awake and keep a handle on my bitchiness, because I am very tired and very cross right now."

"You got it."

The drive to the station was just numb. She was numb with cold, the freezing winter air turning her steering wheel and fingers to ice, her bones absorbing the cold and making her hands tremble. More than that, her brain was numb—buzzing incessantly with the words It's gone, it's gone. It was the kind of numbness that accompanied loss, the one that spoke of disbelieving regret.

If it had been anyone else, she'd've said they were being ridiculous. It was a fifty-cent keychain, for Christ's sake—hardly the end of the world. And it wasn't as though it was her only reminder of Neal, or even that she needed one, at all. But even if she did, she still had the Bug. She still had the kid.

She didn't want to dissect all the reasons why it upset her as much as it did: the drive wasn't that long, and she knew there were probably a lot of bitter reasons, beside the sentimental ones, that she felt so lost without it. She didn't want to dwell on it.

And…there was still hope. It had to be in the loft somewhere, didn't it?

She knew it wasn't, knew in the pit of her stomach that it was well and truly gone, but she forced herself to stop thinking about it and maintain that it had simply slipped behind the dresser. She pulled roughly into the parking lot, snatching the keys and swinging herself out of the car in one swift motion, all the while muttering to herself, "You'll find it, it's in there" in a mantra.

She kept muttering all the way up the stairs, and down the hall; but when she shouldered her way through the door and saw the small, fire-eyed brunette in the holding cell, she stopped.

All she could do was stare.

The door swung shut behind her, but Emma barely heard it. The back of her head tingled, shock turning to ice in her veins. "Holy shit," she breathed.

Cora looked annoyed, gripping the bars in her tiny hands. "Why are you here?" she asked. "Where's Rumple? Where's Henry?"

Emma's eyes flashed at the mention of her son, the memory of Cora's efforts to keep her from him rising up and setting her temper aflame. "Leave Henry out of this," she growled. "I don't want you near him, you crazy bitch."

"Oh, honestly," Cora said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not going to hurt him. All I want is to see my daughter, I'm not here to raise hell."

"Yeah, well, make sure it stays like that," Emma said acidly. "I don't care if he brought you back from the dead—I'll send you right back myself, if you try anything."

Cora gave her a poisonous smile. "Lovely girl, you are. Absolutely lovely." The smile dropped, and she leaned back from the bars, calling toward the office, "David Nolan, tell your insipid little brat to stop harassing me!"

Emma heard David sigh heavily. The chair scraped against the floor, and soon after, he emerged from the office, looking a mixture of exhausted and exasperated. "Let's keep things civil, ladies," he said. "Emma—Rumple's on his way, he's going to help us keep an eye on her until I can get Archie down here for an evaluation."

"What about Regina?" Emma asked, not taking her icy gaze off Cora. "Did you tell her Mommy Dearest is back?"

"Not yet."

"Not yet," Cora muttered under her breath, scowling. "Not. Yet."

"Just be patient," David assured her. "I told you, it's a lot to sort out, so you're going to have to cooperate with us."

Cora let out a bitter laugh. "I don't think I've got much of a choice!" she said, waving her cuffed arm and rattling the bars.

David smiled humorlessly, and put his hand on the small of Emma's back to guide her to a seat at what used to be Neal's desk. "Rumple and Snow should be here soon, with caffeine," he said, dragging over another chair with his foot.

"Great," Emma grimaced.

David tapped his fingers on the table. "Sorry for waking you up, by the way," he said. "I know you like your sleep."

"It's fine," she exhaled. "I'm just…really not psyched about having Cora back in our lives."

"You know, I can still hear you," Cora sang out.

"And," Emma went on with a sigh, as if she hadn't spoken, "now I"m worried about Henry, because apparently, he can do shit like this now—"

"You already knew he could," David pointed out.

"I knew he could accidentally bump things into a well, and be witness to a freak accident," Emma said steadily. "And now…" She almost reached up to twirl her necklace, as she did when she was anxious, but stopped herself. "Now, he's…"

David smiled sympathetically as she trailed off, unable to explain how much Henry using potentially dark magic unsettled her. "Does it help to know that, I kind of felt the same way when I found out you had magic?"

"But I've never used mine," Emma argued. "I've never given you a reason to worry. And Henry's got Rumple crowing in her ear, egging him on—and then, Regina's not exactly discouraging him, either."

David nodded. "What about Neal?" he asked. "I can't see him being thrilled about this."

"He doesn't talk about it," Emma shrugged. "But it makes him uncomfortable. He won't say anything to Henry, though."

David contemplated for a moment, looking as if he were about to say something, but kept thinking better of it. Emma nearly asked him what was on his mind, but before she could, the door opened, followed by the sound of Snow and Rumple bickering.

"…spend God knows how much on your suits, if you just buy a decent coffee maker—"

"—I like my coffee, okay? I'm not making you drink it—"

"—you're so stubborn—"

"—everyone's always on my back about this, I don't understand—"

"What the hell is that?" David frowned, pointing at what was one of the most ridiculous hats Emma had ever seen Rumple wear: a full-on, furry Russian hat, his hair neatly coifed underneath.

Apparently, it was the height of fashion, because Rumple simply scoffed and rolled his eyes. David exchanged a look with Emma, who shrugged bemusedly. There was no fathoming Rumple, or his fashion choices.

"Rumple!" Cora stretched longingly through the bars. "Rumple, help me, they're being horrible!"

Rumple moved his eyes from Cora to Emma and David, raising a quizzical eyebrow. David shook his head, and mouthed, I didn't do anything. Rumple nodded, and went on ignoring Cora's reaching hands, unraveling his scarf as he made his way to a chair.

"Henry's asleep on my couch, by the way," he said, sitting down. He took a sip of his coffee, visibly shuddered, and took his hat off. "You know, Emma, you really shouldn't let him drink those energy drinks. They keep him up for an hour, and then he crashes, and chugs another until he collapses at night—it's just not a healthy for a growing boy."

"I keep telling him that," Snow said, moving around him to hand David and Emma their cups. "Sister Astrid told me he falls asleep in class all the time."

"I'll put it on my to-do list," Emma said, waving a dismissive hand. "I think you know what I want to talk to you about right now."

Rumple glanced over her over his cup. "Pray tell."

"Don't give me that, pray tell," she said witheringly. "You know I'm talking about Cora."

"What is it that you'd like to know?" he frowned. "I think the situation is fairly self-explanatory. She was dead, your freakishly talented son did magic, and now she's back."

Emma looked helplessly at David, who leaned over the table and peered sternly at Rumple. "Why don't you start off with explaining how that works?" he said. "Because I don't know a lot about magic, but from what I do know, it's not supposed to be this easy."

"It's not," Rumple shrugged. "But Henry and I have something in common: we're both very gifted, and very clever. So, if anyone was going to figure it out, it would be us."

"No one's arguing that," Emma said impatiently.

"I know, I just wanted to brag." Rumple took another sip of coffee, and let out a long exhale. "Basically, what happened was, Henry figured out that the well was connected to Lake Nostos, which is where it derives its regenerative powers from. I figured out that the reason why he couldn't harness said power to resurrect Cora before now was because the portal between worlds in the well—essentially, the link between the magic and non-magic world, to feed Storybrooke its ability to support magic—was too weak. So I needed even more powerful magic to blast through, and hold that portal open, so Henry could take full advantage of the lake's powers."

Emma glanced over his head: Cora was leaning through the bars, listening intently with a small frown on her face. She was familiar with Lake Nostos, Emma knew: probably cursing herself for having not figured out resurrection before Henry.

"What I don't understand, though, is why you keep saying Henry is so gifted," Snow said carefully. "It sounds more like, he simply figured out that the well is powerful."

"But not just any sorcerer can bend that kind of magic to his will," Rumple insisted. "The lake is a source of most ancient magic, there's a million things it can do we can't ever begin to imagine. Henry managed to pull its resurrection powers through, because he is also powerful. Very, I might add," he said, giving Emma a significant look.

David raised an eyebrow, also looking at Emma. She frowned defensively, and flipped out her hand as if to say, What?

"True Love," Rumple drawled, swilling the contents of his cup. "The most powerful magic of all. You are the product of it, Emma. And so is Henry." He gave a little shrug. "A nice little piece of information I used to fix the portal."

"What does that mean?" Snow said, crinkling her brow.

Rumple didn't take his eyes off Emma. "It means, that I was able to use the magic inside the True Love talisman Henry stole for me. And I think, if you'll look 'round yourself, you'll be able to guess what it was."

Emma tilted her head, opening her mouth to tell him she hadn't the foggiest what he was talking about, when it dawned on her. Her fingers traveled back up her neck, feeling the empty space…Rumple's gaze followed her movements, and he nodded slightly. Emma stared at him, dropping her hand.

"Henry stole my keychain?" she said in disbelief.

"Took him ages, but there you are," Rumple shrugged.

"The keychain?" David said bewilderedly.

"The keychain Neal gave her," Rumple clarified, sparing him a glance. "Like Snow's ring."

Snow touched the peridot on her fourth finger, as if she was hardly aware she was doing it. Rumple eyed it appraisingly, then added, "I told him to go for the keychain, because the ring was too valuable."

"Not to me!" Emma said, suddenly finding her voice with a vengeance. "You told him to steal my keychain for this?"

"Well, I didn't have another potion hiding in a dragon, did I?" Rumple said in annoyance. "I had to get the magic from somewhere, and honestly, dearie, I thought it more than appropriate that Henry come into his magic with his parents' talisman. Especially when said talisman is worth fifty cents, tops."

"But it's—!" Emma slammed her hands on the table, shock and fury competing for the dominating emotion. "It's my keychain! I-I've had that thing for sixteen years, it's—"

"Very sentimental and symbolic, I'm sure," Rumple said in a bored voice. "Which is why it worked so well, and we now have this—" he gestured at Cora behind him—"lovely woman back in our lives."

Cora smiled nastily at Emma through the bars. "And aren't we going to have fun."