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BossLady (x2): Family time is so huge for this verse. Just ... I love them all, okay? They need those moments. As for the other chapter, yesss. The wedding isn't a huge thing for Graham especially, except that it will make what they have more concrete. And Emma's got her worries that have nothing to do with him specifically, but they work through it anyway and I love that so much.

Title: Keep Them on a Leash
Summary: Graham needs to make her realize just how dangerous Regina is.
Note: Post Back Up. For anon's prompt on Tumblr. I decided instead of Emma and Maggie talking about Graham, that Maggie and Graham should have the talk. Also for lessawildmoon because I know she's been waiting for this. TW for rape mention. As always, strong anti-Regina.

After it was settled, when he had checked in on Maggie and Henry up in her room, he'd gone back to his own. As soon as the door was shut, he all but collapsed against the wall.

He cradled his head in his hands, his body shaking, as he played through what had happened.

His head absolutely throbbed as he tried to quell the white-hot bits of panic and rage that were not so easily squashed after seeing her again. Again, he considered how much simpler it would all be if she were gone. Violent images scrolled through his brain quicker than he could second-guess; they multiplied exponentially the more he tried to push them out.

His past was checked with regret and remorse for some of the things he'd done, but his actions before his enslavement weren't as easily markered. Protecting his family had never brought about a second thought. Having her gone … it would spell relief more than any other thing through his soul, that was certain. But it also triggered another feeling, something more akin to a vengeful delight. It made the detective in him a little alarmed.

Having Maggie around reinforced both sides of this. She was someone that reminded him of who he was in New York, but she was also another person to protect. He didn't need more people to protect. Not ones that would try to put him before themselves. He wasn't worth that; he'd had enough experience to know that. Especially not when there were others at stake.

The door clicked open and he quickly swiped at his cheeks, not wanting to look quite so intensely upset in front of Emma. However, when he looked up, dark brown eyes were waiting for him instead. He shuddered and clanked his head back. No point in hiding from Maggie.

She was silent as she closed the door behind her. She leaned against the wall and then sunk down to the floor next to him. She pushed her legs out and crossed her arms, situating herself on the ground. He tried not to think about his migraine and the nauseating feeling of fury coursing through him, and couldn't manage to look at her directly as he did so. After a moment, she pulled a paper bag from her jacket pocket and unwrapped a plastic bottle of cheap whiskey.

He looked down at the bottle for half a second before a bitter laugh escaped him. He scrubbed his face with his hands and finally shook his head. "Thanks, but no."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise before twisting the cap. "You sure? Emma gave the okay."

He nodded with a furrowed brow. "I don't – I can't feel out of control right now."

She watched him out of the corner of her eye and then swallowed back a bit of the brown liquid. She winced and then set it to the side. "Okay."

She didn't prompt him to speak, and he wasn't entirely sure he was able to right now. They sat in silence for a while, the clock in the corner the only noise besides their breathing.

He set on controlling his breath, trying to make the fire in his soul temper. Maggie's silence was somehow soothing, her quiet support unbroken. He cocked his head to the side to watch her, and finally decided to be the one to break the quiet. "Emma said you were like this."

A smile tugged on her lips. "Like what?"

He sighed, and moved to knock their shoulders together. "That you don't press. But that you're there regardless. She needed that."

She scraped the bottle close to her. "Do you need that?" she asked.

He looked down and a softer chuckle trickled out. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks."

She nodded. "Emma looked a little wild when she heard the mayor had been by. No, probably worse than that. Livid. I figured giving her some time with Henry would give you some time to come down a bit."

He gave a tight smile. "I appreciate it."

"Of course," she replied simply.

He thought how best to approach the topic he knew he'd have to tackle. He needed to give her a warning, something to make her realize just how dangerous Regina was. She couldn't keep provoking her like she had been.

He knew the witch's arguments didn't make sense to an outsider, and thought perhaps that was the best way to start. "Ask your questions," he finally said.

She clicked her tongue and shook her head. "What's there to ask? Obviously she's got a screw loose."

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to release some tension. "Yes. To say the least," he sighed. "But you must have questions."

She rubbed the pad between her thumb and index finger, looking thoughtful. "Would you have answers?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "To some of them, maybe," he said.

She grabbed the bottle and took another sip. "How much do you want to tell me?" she asked hesitantly.

He swallowed thickly, and part of him thought that taking some of the liquor would calm his nerves. Another second and he remembered why he didn't want to. "I don't know where to begin. So, ask. If I don't have an answer, I don't have an answer."

She nodded at that. "Why does she think she has claim over Henry?"

He grimaced. Of course she would pick at that first, the one thing that wouldn't make sense more than any other. It was the thing that threatened one of her loved ones, and thus the biggest concern as well. "That's … it's complicated," he began. At least some of the story was the same. "She was the one that was supposed to adopt Henry."

A clank sounded, and he turned to face her fully. Her expression was hard. "Emma didn't go through with that. What the hell? How the hell does she even know?"

He pressed his lips together. "It wasn't legal, you remember," he said, trying to guide her through the story he was weaving.

Emma and Maggie had found out about six months after she took Henry home. There was a scandal in the papers all about the takedown of the ring. She had felt exceptionally betrayed, even without her memories. She had thought the company was legitimate; to realize that it was actually a shell foundation for illegal adoptions was heartbreaking.

It made more sense and made her that much more self-punishing when their memories came back. It fit, once they talked it through. Regina had no real identity in this world, and wouldn't be able to walk into a real agency and be found fit to care for a child. Gold had somehow tracked down the shadiest corporation with the best façade, and Regina had played normal for the men who needed no background checks.

And the company found Emma at her most vulnerable. It was at a time where no one believed in her, least of all herself. Teenagers in jail were an easy target, it seemed.

He pushed past the churn of his stomach, and refocused. "Apparently, the company gave away plenty of information before the adoption fell through," he said. It was a lie, but it didn't feel exactly like one. Half-truths were the only way to make this fit, and he couldn't feel bad about them.

Her eyes flamed. "God, as if Em isn't already kicking herself over almost giving him up."

He looked away, fresh feelings of anger piercing him. She had thought she was doing the right thing; it killed him that those people tricked her. He remembered Henry living here, what a strange mix of sad and hopeful he had been versus the safe and happy child he was in New York. "Regina thinks it means that he's hers."

She snarled. "What a delusional—"

"There's more, of course," he said.

She looked at him.

He shuddered as he thought how to best get across the point. "She is exceptionally possessive. Henry is terrified to be near her, and she keeps trying to get to him." He hesitated a second, flashes of fear for his kid igniting within him. After some internal debate, he finally yanked his shirt from his waistband and tugged up the side to show his abdomen, where the scar from his childhood was. "I tried to get away from her, when I lived here. She didn't take that lightly."

She stared at the scar a long time, and he couldn't read the thoughts scrolling across her face. "Get away from her?"

He let go of his shirt and looked down at his hands. "Yeah, get away from her."

She paused a moment. "Do I want to know what that means?"

He blew out a low breath. "It means that … I didn't want to be with her."

She leaned up onto her knees, facing him. "You broke up with her, so she, what, tried to kill you?"

He looked away. He had felt powerful as Sheriff Graham, walking away from her in that cemetery. But it hadn't been real; it had all been an elaborate illusion of free will. "Is it breaking up if you never had a choice in the first place?" he muttered.

A beat. "What?"

He shook his head. "Never mind."

She shook her head. "No. No 'never mind,' Graham. Don't start that."

He cursed himself for bringing this up. "She was holding something over me. I didn't have a choice in our … relationship."

She balled her hands into fists, fury pinching her features. "You're telling me that she's an attempted murderer and what, a freaking rapist and she's still walking around free as the mayor? What the actual hell, Graham?"

He gritted his teeth at the word. He never liked to think about what had happened, not here and not in the old world. He'd never named it, for certain. It was better pushed out of his mind, not dwelled upon. He was happy now. But the word flashed with memories, things he thought he'd buried enough to only see in nightmares. "Just know she's not going to be contended with. Not alone, Maggie."

She huffed in disbelief, snapping to her feet in an instant before pacing the length of the room. "She's got some damn cockiness if she thinks she'll get away with this."

"She has gotten away with it, Maggie. All the times before … the … town just lets her," he spat. It wasn't until then that he truly felt those bitter feelings come forward. The royals should have put an end to her reign and her freedom, if not her life, decades ago.

She turned to him, her face painted in frustration and such rage that it was almost alarming. "Did you get to trial?" she asked.

Of course she was thinking in real-world terms. No, there had been no trial. There had barely been a second thought for his death, let alone anything else. "I left right after it happened," he said carefully.

She seethed, fist hitting the wood of the dresser before she started for the door.

"Maggie, where are you going?"

She stopped. "Me? I'm going to make a goddamn citizen's arrest, is what I'm doing."

He jumped to his feet and grabbed her wrist. "No. You're not listening. I didn't tell you this so you could do something. I'm telling you this so you know not to do something hasty, Magdalena."

She wrinkled her nose, her eyes still hard. "This is a simple case, Graham. I can make the arrest now, wait for the sheriff or even call staties if all else fails. She can't just be walking around like nothing happened. I won't sit around and do nothing."

He took a deep breath and met her eye straight on. "No, it's not an easy case. I don't care about what happened to me, okay? As long as she stays far away, I really don't care. What I care about is Henry and Emma. I need to keep them safe, and part of that is making sure I'm not causing her to act."

She raised her chin. "Getting her behind bars would go a long ways toward that end," she advised.

His lashes flicked across his cheeks as he considered that. "Yes, maybe. But she'd be out on bail in two seconds and we'd have an even bigger target on our backs. You've seen how she treats the restraining order. I'm not going to risk that."

She ripped away from his grip and began to pace again. "I don't like this," she spat. "I don't like the idea of doing nothing. Let me do something, here."

"Help me keep my family safe," he coaxed. "Help me protect them."

"What I want to do is snap her neck," she fumed.

He raised his brows and gave a small smile. It was good to know the feeling was mutual. "Wouldn't that be easier," he said wryly.

She shook her head. "I can't believe they've let her get away with something like this. If she's that bold, then she couldn't have just targeted you," she mused.

"Truer words," he muttered. "I was just a … a tool. I wasn't the target by any means."

She peered at him from the corner of her eye. "Does that mean you know who was?"

He nodded. "Yes. The sheriff's wife," he said. And his wife, he quietly reminded himself.

She blinked and laughed in exasperation. "Seriously?" she asked, her voice strident. "Does that even make sense?"

He shook his head. "Not even a little, even when you know the story. It's complicated; there's a history, there." His brow furrowed, and he decided one piece of information was fine. "She used to be her stepmother."

"You mean she's actually had kids? One she hated enough to target? And then she wanted, what, a chance to raise more?" she asked, mouth dropping open.

"Sn—Mary Margaret," he quickly corrected himself. He didn't bother to check if the misstep was picked up on. "She was about ten at the time Regina married her father. Her father died about six years later, under some … well, suspicious circumstances."

"Great," she intoned. "So she may have actually succeeded in killing someone before?"

He shrugged. "There wasn't ever enough to prove it. I always strongly suspected so."

She dragged her hands through her hair, pulling at the strands. "Graham, why did you never move forward with this? If she's probably killed before, if she's targeting others … why did you never press charges? If not for … well, at least for trying to kill you."

His chest panged in an echo of what was. That was not so easily explained. He had been dead; there wasn't much he could bring to anyone's attention with that fact. "No one would have believed me," he said, as true as anything he could say.

Maggie's expression twisted into one of plain sympathy, a knee-jerk reaction that she quickly tried to cover.

He absolutely hated it. "Stop it."

She looked chagrined but resolute as she squared her shoulders. "Look, I get it. I really do understand where you're coming from. I'm not going to say that it doesn't hit me right in the gut, because I've had a cousin and more cases than I can think of both now and as a MSW that went through that kinda shit. But just know that I'm also not going to treat you with kid gloves because of it."

He looked away, his fist balling and unclenching. He didn't know how to react to that. It was a thorn in him, the fact that someone other than Emma now knew that part. He trusted Maggie, of course, but he didn't like feeling this exposed. Weak. Knowing she would not prey on that feeling went a long way in helping him resolve his feelings about it, but they didn't fully amend.

"Having something like, I don't know, a stab wound wouldn't have got you evidence?" she asked, changing the subject smoothly.

"Not the way she did it," he said, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "And like I said, I left right after."

She pressed her lips together, her mouth a firm line. "What I need to know is that we're not going to sit here and play pretend. That we're going to look for evidence to knock her down from her high horse, that we wait for the right time to strike. That we make sure you all are protected, but we take her down. It doesn't feel right to just let her stay in power. And to let her stay unpunished."

A smile tweaked his lips and he reached to take her hand, squeezing gently. "It can't be first. And we need to drop it if there's even a hint that it might hurt Henry or Emma," he conceded.

Her eyes sparkled, pleased. "Deal."

"Deal," he said, and shook the hand in his.

She rolled her eyes and dropped his hand, swinging her arm around his neck to hug him. "Sorry," she murmured.

He shook his head as he pulled back. "I'd appreciate ... not—if you didn't—"

She raised her hand. "I won't. That's not me."

He blew out a shaky breath and a nod, knowing that to be true.

She pursed her lips. "But could I shoot her a little?"

He barked out a laugh, nervous energy escaping with it. "Maybe. I'll keep you posted."

She smirked and hit his shoulder. "You need your wife, I think."

He cocked his head to the side. "Maybe my kid, too," he said.

She nodded. "I think Emma wants a chance at you first, though. I'll bring her down, and then have her call when you're ready for the kid."

He sat on the edge of the bed and nodded. "Yeah, that's probably best," he agreed. If Emma knew that she had been by again, he had no doubt that she'd want to expel some anger and make sure he was okay without alarming Henry at the same time. "Thank you, Maggie."

She opened the door and half turned to him. She shrugged. "I want to protect my people, is all."