A/N: To the guest reviewer, thank you for the lovely note! I am also a huge fan of Regina and Snow's relationship. Their progression on the show was one of the few highlights for me past Season 2. Glad to see I didn't bungle them here. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

Standard Disclaimer: These lovely characters ain't mine, I just play with them gently. Please don't sue me. The mistakes are mine, though.

Chapter 30 – A Friendly Lie

When Regina regains consciousness the first time, she cannot even muster the energy to peel her eyes open. All she can vaguely ascertain is that someone is gently running their fingers through her hair in a rhythm that has her sighing in satisfaction. Red, my love, she thinks, barely aware of anything except how wonderful it feels to have her hair stroked like this and thus associating it with something her wife loves to do to lull her to sleep.

There is something hypnotic about being half sprawled out over Red's body, head resting against her chest with that strong, reliable heartbeat thudding in her ear while long, nimble fingers weave lazy, nonsensical patterns through her hair. Red says the effect such petting produces on Regina's expression reminds her of a cat getting its head scratched, a comparison she doesn't really mind so long as she's of a majestic variety such as a sleek black panther or a fearsome striped tigress. Never mind it reinforces the perception many strangers and distant acquaintances have of them, that they are an odd, mismatched couple who ought not be compatible. That they are and on virtually every level is a sure sign of the impending Apocalypse to some, which oddly makes sense seeing as if Regina is a cat, she is one that spends her nights sleeping with a wolf.

Yet even if the end times were to dawn because of their abnormal relationship, she wouldn't give it up. Being wrapped up in Red's arms, wholly enveloped by her warmth and blissfully inundated with her sweet scent, boneless and sated, soaking in the lavish attention...well, it's one of the best feelings in the world. Better than having the most diligent attendants waiting on her hand and foot to fulfill her every desire and accommodate her every whim. Better than the heady rush of adrenaline combat gives her or the meteoric euphoria of wielding the absolute power of life and death over another human being. Leaps and bounds better than sex with any of the lovers she's ever had for that matter. Not quite so much better than sex with Red, though, as that is the perhaps the only feeling that approaches being the auspicious, halcyon recipient of her wife's affectionately doting service.

Beyond the comforting ministrations, Regina notices with great pleasure that she is no longer being victimized by millions of pins and needles thrust into her skin by the bitterly cold air of the mountaintop. Her entire body is blanketed in a warmth that makes her feel so snug and relaxed that, when combined with the delicate strokes of talented fingers, wraps her back up into the welcoming arms of sleep. She drifts off again almost immediately.

The next time she awakens is a less welcome experience. A terrible, agonizing pain jolts through her side, causing her to gasp aloud and her eyes to snap open. A heartbreaking sight greets her. She is not back home as her addled brain had led her to believe. It had not been Red so gently brushing long fingers through her hair. How could it have been? Red is back home, trapped in a sleeping curse, wasting away in another world so far away from her current whereabouts in Ozma's cabin. Bitter disappointment seeps into her chest along with a dull ache in her shoulder where she was wounded in the fight with Zelena.

Thankfully the humming of a voice like a birdsong of a morning, lilting and full of happiness, breaks the short spell of misery Regina was succumbing to. Searching out the source, she finds Ozma sitting at the bedside, just out of frame but close enough to be able to sift her dexterous fingers through Regina's hair as she stares serenely out the room's lone window.

Upon catching a pair of dark brown eyes lazily peering up at her, a smiles spreads across her lips that takes Regina's breath away. "Why, there you are, sleepy head! I was beginning to think you would never wake up. You almost drained yourself up there, you silly woman. Your mangled shoulder did not help matters, either. My, that was an ugly wound!"

Regina groans as she realizes just how drained she really is – frighteningly so. "How long was I out?" She barely recognizes her own voice, weak and hoarse as it is, and of a deeper timbre than normal so that it rattles her chest.

"Nearly eight hours," answers Ozma. "It is nearing sundown now."

So long? Regina thinks, beginning to panic. So many thoughts are swirling around her foggy brain that she can barely even make sense of a fraction. The last thing she remembers is killing Zelena and feeling atrocious about it. She also remembers wishing she could get her hands around her mother's black heart one more time. Beyond that is nothing but black. But before that...things start clearing up quickly.

"Where is Snow?" she asks immediately, bolting up to a seated position as she frantically sweeps the familiar room with her eyes. "And Dorothy...is she okay? Where are they, Ozma?!"

Before replying, Ozma takes Regina's hand between hers and steadily but tenderly applies pressure. "Calm down. They are both fine," she says, keeping her tone even. "They were beginning to wear a rut in my floors from their pacing, so I sent them outside to walk off their frustrations. They've been worried sick about you, as was I."

Regina relaxes against the pillows upon learning her friends are safe. "Thank heavens," she sighs. "Zelena surprised us with a squad six strong after Snow disappeared inside the gates. There was a fight. After it was over, she trapped Dorothy in another of those crystalline prisons."

Ozma gives Regina's hand a delicate pat. "I know. Dorothy told me all about it," she then says. "Observing your tête-à-tête showdowns was a rather terrible experience for her. Especially the one with Zelena."

"I can imagine seeing as my sister was trying to melt my face off," Regina returns, not liking how guilty she feels about Dorothy having to watch what happened, and thus transferring blame onto Zelena, which was an apt if not lame deflection. Ozma raises a perfectly arched golden brow at that, her subtle way of informing Regina that she is aware of what Regina is doing. "But yes," Regina amends, "I am sure it wasn't pleasant for her. I'm sorry for that."

"You needn't be sorry," Ozma replies with an understanding smile. "I'm merely thankful, as are we all, that you came out victorious."

Regina scoffs, her side twinging. "Barely." She absently checks her side, finding the flesh healed but still tender to the touch.

"I took care of that nasty wound," Ozma says, brows drawn with worry. "It will hurt a while, but you've no need to worry about pulling stitches. I closed it the same way I did Dorothy's arrow wound."

"My thanks." Regina rubs the wound a few more times for good measure, just to be sure. Not that she doubts Ozma. It is simply in her nature to verify for herself.

After an awkward pause, Ozma takes a deep breath, her disposition somewhat clearing of the lingering shadows remembrance of Regina's injury cast. "So you met Jillian, I hear," she says. "I'd thought Zelena would have left her behind in Misthaven to oversee her affairs there. Otherwise I would have warned you about her. Vicious little thing, she was."

Regina's lips twist into wry smile. "I'm not that lucky. And yes, she was quite violent in a joyful sort of way. And talented. I have seldom crossed swords with her peer. She almost killed me several times. I was almost loathe to return the favor. Sadly only one of us was going to leave the Grove alive, and it wasn't going to be her."

Ozma's uncomfortable nod says much of Jillian's reputation as her brief duck of the head does her disapproval of Regina's blasé approach to her duel with the formidable swordswoman. "I don't know where Zelena found her," Ozma says after lifting her head, all evidence of her disquiet gone. "All I know is she was not a native to Oz and was a remorseless killer that plagued my realm and terrorized my people for far too long."

Those holes in Ozma's knowledge are ones Regina can readily fill. So she does. "Apparently she hailed from my world. She mentioned having a twin sister named Jack, strangely enough, who became embroiled with the twin of Snow's husband, Charming. Turns out she was there for revenge. I can only assume that when it was discovered Snow and I were in Oz, she refused to be left behind. For whatever reason, Zelena accommodated her."

Ozma hums, waves her hand absently. "Theirs was a strange relationship. Not like Zelena had with Glinda, mind you. Jillian had a string of men on retainer for her pleasure. There was mutual admiration there, though, or something similar to it. There were never far from one another and if so never long parted."

"Probably due to their shared desire for revenge. It's a powerful bonding force."

"So I've been told," says Ozma, lips drawn tight, clearly struggling with the pull on her to darkness she has to this point so heroically resisted. She shakes her head and the trouble clears like storm clouds being brushed away by a gentle breeze. "Whatever the case, I'm glad she's no longer a problem. And that you survived your encounter with her. Few others can say the same."

"Taking care of her was far less problematic than disposing of my sister." Regina winces, thinking of her travail on the mountain and the wing-and-a-prayer gambit that won her victory against her broken, demented sibling. "I had to resort to drastic measures. Had I contested Zelena conventionally, she would have killed me."

Ozma smiles approvingly. "Yes, I was told how you rather cleverly goaded her into getting too close, thereby enabling you to strike the fatal blow. Well done. But, I'm more interested in hearing about a new development in your powers. According to Dorothy, you used white magic during the battle. Pure white, at that."

"I did," Regina confirms. "It took me by surprise. I had thought that was impossible for a person whose heart has been blackened even a little, not to mention one such as much as mine which was almost wholly dark not that long ago."

Ozma frowns deeply. "A falsehood spread by wicked fairies who would rather people be left hopeless. Acts of True Love are white magic, so you have already performed one whether you realize it or not. Because you are a sorceress, your motivation is what determines what type of magic you can access. There was a time you only sought to do evil, ergo purple magic. But at the Grove, even though you had to do something that was distasteful, your motivations were pure. You acted out of True Love when you fought your sister, and thus your magic was white. Does that make sense?"

"It guess so," Regina nods, but then she shakes her head and corrects herself. "Or maybe it would if I could regain full cognitive capability. My head is still spinning."

"You overextended yourself," explains Ozma. "And to such a degree that had I not intervened, you might have remained comatose for days."

"Days?!" Regina screeches. "I can't afford that! I have to get back to Red!"

Ozma reaches out a hand to place it upon Regina's shoulder, firmly grasping it. "I am aware. Which is why I not only healed your wound, but infused you with a portion of my own energy to speed up the recovery process. And while I recognize your haste to return to your beloved, I caution you to use wisdom. You are very weak and your magical energy is still quite depleted. Recovery is a process. You will not be able to adequately defend yourself with it for a few hours at bare minimum."

"What would you have me do, then?" Regina asks, a forlorn look upon her face. From how it sounds to her over-anxious ears, Ozma is forbidding her to leave the cabin until she can properly defend herself, and she does not have that kind of time. Every minute that ticks by is a minute lost to saving Red. "I can't just sit around and wait. Red is suffering, Ozma. She is suffering because of me. I have to get to her."

"I know," smiles Ozma, an almost mischievous look on her face. "That is why Dorothy and I will be accompanying you to this Jefferson fellow and his fascinating little top-hat portal."

"But what about the barrier that separates you from Oz?" Regina asks, suddenly worried for Ozma when she shouldn't be. It hasn't quite yet caught up with her that Zelena is dead, and therefore Ozma no longer has a reason to be in hiding.

"I lifted it the moment I felt Zelena's spirit pass from this world," Ozma replies. "Knowing she was dead meant I was safe to leave this place, so I traveled to the Grove and found you unconscious and Dorothy tending to your wound. After helping her stabilize you enough to move, I went inside to fetch Snow – she was entranced as she communed with the benevolent avatar that resides within, but that is another story for another time. Once the avatar permitted us to take samples of the tree bark, I transported the lot of us back here, where Dorothy and Snow carried you inside. The rest is self-explanatory, I think."

Regina nods, satisfied by Ozma's version of events, except one pointed question that crops up as a consequence of how she'd come to know Zelena was dead. "That explains how I got here, but how did you know that Zelena was dead from so far away?"

"As a half-fairy of the most ancient bloodline," Ozma replies, "I have a connection to this land and to its people, of which Zelena is – was – a part. To a very small degree, I feel the birth of each spirit in Oz as well as those that arrive by supernatural means. Unfortunately, I am also as aware of each death."

"That must be stressful. And depressing."

Ozma nods. "I must admit that it was overwhelming at first when I made the connection as to what those feelings were related, as I was only a young girl at the time. I have since come to treasure the intimate connection I share with my people, though it can be sorely vexing at times."

"Even with those of my sister's persuasion?" Regina asks, not able imagine having so deep a connection with someone so evil, and that includes herself.

"Even then," says Ozma, a beatific smile on her face. "All life is precious, and therefore worth remembering. But that does not mean all life must be protected. Some such as Zelena, and yourself at one time, choose to abuse their gift by taking the lives of innocents, thus forfeiting any right to exist by a law greater than that of any human, wizard, fairy, or god. The universe itself demands balance, and it has its ways of preserving it, which Zelena has now discovered. Evil will never be permitted to reign forever. Eventually punishment is always doled out upon the wicked."

Regina winces, unable to hide her shame at being rightfully lumped in with mass murderers like her sister. Once, she too was a remorseless killer, and had more blood on her hands than she could ever wash away. More than Zelena, even. Her sister was right to point that out and she was wrong to believe their differences were ever more than merely on the surface.

"Do you think that's why this happened to Red?" she asks, plaintive in tone and demeanor. "That I'm correct to believe she is being made to pay for my sins?"

"I wish I could offer you some consolation about that, but I cannot," Ozma answers bluntly, her face grave with the weight of the subject. "I simply do not know. Is it possible that what happened to your beloved is related to your past? Yes. Of course it is. It would be disingenuous of me to suggest otherwise. And who is to say that there won't be more suffering ahead for the two of you? Your past misdeeds are, by your own admission, terrible and numerous beyond reckoning. For how many the bill will come due before the end, I dare not guess. Perhaps all. Perhaps none. Perhaps somewhere in between."

Regina heart thuds at the last sentence, her worst fears seeming to have been confirmed. But then Ozma draws a deep breath and smooths her features into a fondness for Regina that she does not bother to hide.

"I do not say this to hurt you, Regina," she then says, "but rather to inform you that the universe is a strange place. Much stranger than I had ever imagined it to be before I met you. Your darkness is undeniable, yet you wield white magic also and have found True Love in spite of the deep corruption your heart has known. You are severe but kind, hateful but loving, an enemy without fear or remorse but a friend willing to sacrifice selflessly. In a burst of purple smoke you landed upon my front lawn and proceeded to upend my understanding of the ways of the cosmos, for you are a living and breathing paradox that I cannot account for, and a walking contradiction for which I have no explanation.

"So perhaps, just perhaps, the universe is permitting someone like you to exist as a way of informing us lesser beings that even it's own supremely grand laws are not above reproach or incapable of being bent. Whatever the case may be, I'm just glad to have met you, and to have made a friend of you."

"As am I, Ozma," Regina replies around a lump in her throat that appeared all of the sudden. "More than I can say."

In the decades to come, that little speech of Ozma's will be one Regina often looks back at and remembers as a turning point, a point in which she finally came to terms with the greater meaning of her life, with the purpose of her continued existence after so much tragedy had been visited upon her and after she had in turn visited exponentially more upon others. After all, according to Ozma's cosmic math and Regina's own more logically based calculations, she should have suffered a similar – if not more gruesome – fate than her sister had. Yet she was the one to live through their duel. The universe, she concluded as Ozma had, was a mystery indeed, but it was a beautiful one for which she would never again forget to be thankful.

Regina startles a bit when Ozma reaches out to brush a finger down her jaw, but to her surprise, she relaxes into the touch, allowing it, and even cherishes the affection behind it. It seems absurd and yet so right to have become so attached to the woman in so short a time. Whether it's Ozma's fairy blood or her awesome magic or her captivating charm at work, Regina can not tell. All she knows is that Ozma is someone that has become inexplicably precious to her, same as Dorothy, and she is loathe to part from either of them.

And yet she has to. She has a home waiting for her, a wife who loves her more than anything in the world, a father she adores, and a kingdom to run that she has bled for. She wants to be back with them with a keen desperation that clenches at her heart like a pair of pliers. Yet at the same time she doesn't want to lose what she has found here in this rustic little cabin. Being caught between those warring desires is more than a little disconcerting.

"I know what you're thinking right now," Ozma then says, wearing a knowing look.

Regina quirks a sable brow. "Is that so?"

"Mmmhmm," Ozma hums, eyes glimmering brilliantly in the candlelight. "There is no need for you to worry about losing our friendship. What was planted here will soon sprout and will eventually grow into a beautiful tree under whose shade we shall all warmly commiserate."

Regina gasps at the accurate deduction, and is only able to squeeze Ozma's hand in response to the swell of love she is feeling. Fairy Queen of Oz may she be, but Regina prefers Ozma's designation to simply be her friend.

"How can you be certain? Our worlds are so far apart," she says, feeling caught between her love for Ozma and Dorothy and the fact that travel between worlds is not quite a common occurrence.

"That is true," Ozma concedes, and then counters with, "and yet I happen to possess a set of slippers that will allow me to traverse realms at will, bringing any who make contact with my person along for the ride. Likewise, I believe you are acquainted with a man with a certain hat of exceedingly peculiar but valuable properties."

"Who hates me," Regina says, chagrined that she alone is the reason Jefferson hates her. No one else is to blame for her betrayal, and Jefferson is perfectly justified to feel as he does. "And not without reason," she adds. "I abandoned him in Wonderland once, where he fell victim to my mother. A fate I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy."

Ozma gives Regina a conspiratorial smile and then leans in to stage whisper. "In my experience, much bitterness can be assuaged by a little stroking of the ego and an enticing enough reward." She then leans back, smile still in place. "Perhaps with the right incentive this Jefferson could be persuaded to...come to terms with your transgression. A parcel of land and a minor title perhaps?"

Regina smirks at the unexpectedly sly woman. "Why, Ozma, how perfectly sublime a suggestion."

Ozma shrugs. "I may be half-fairy but I am also a Queen. And although Dorothy believes me to be the pinnacle of goodness, I have my fair share of naysayers who prickle my good conscience and test my abundant patience. Dealing with them requires a certain level of diplomacy that demands me to set aside my feelings for the sake of the common good of my people, and that is something I am not above asking of them as well. In court, quid pro quo goes a long way. Wouldn't you agree?"

Regina does think so, and tells Ozma likewise. "Without enough oil to keep the various pieces lubricated," she then adds, "the machinery of high society will grind to a halt. Pretentious and annoying as they are, the nobles are a necessary evil. Accommodating them where possible is in the best interest of any kingdom."

"Quite so," agrees Ozma, who gives Regina's hand one last squeeze before withdrawing to stand from her chair. "And speaking of kingdoms," she continues after brushing a hand down her skirt, "I believe there is one missing their Queen. Let me fetch Dorothy and Snow, then we can be off."

Regina nods, and then watches as Ozma departs from the cabin. When she returns a few minutes later, she is flushed with indignation, and Regina can hear mirthful noise filtering in through the door.

"I would commend you for your aim, but I think you're in trouble, my friend," she hears Snow's voice state seconds before Ozma shows up in the doorway. There are fresh flakes of snow in her blonde hair and upon shoulders and her nose and cheeks are already rosy from the cold.

She is followed in through the door by Dorothy, who is wearing a smug grin as she replies, "I'll have you know I stay in trouble." She then throws a saucy wink at Ozma, who huffs and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Is there any wonder why?" says Ozma, frowning dramatically. "This will cost you, Dorothy Gale. You mark my words, at some indeterminate time in the future, I will have my revenge."

"Oh, bah," Dorothy scoffs playfully as she shuffles toward Ozma. Fondness for the blonde half-fairy is in her every micro-expression, from the way her blue eyes are dancing and crinkled at the edges and by the slight upturn of her lips that Regina can tell is a full blown smile waiting for permission to manifest itself. "It was just one harmless snowball. You've done far worse to me. Remember that time you made a rain cloud follow me around for an entire day because I was in a bad mood and snapped at you for being so chirpy?"

"That's hardly the point," Ozma counters, softening some at Dorothy's adoring gaze. "I am a Queen in the presence of two other Queens. Such behavior is uncouth."

Regina winces at that word, thinking of how much Red hates it. It is a favorite disparagement among the nobles, along with other far more crass descriptions spoken when they think neither of them are listening. But Dorothy does not seem to mind it at all.

"I'm a farm girl," Dorothy replies with a dismissive shrug. "Always will be. People are going disapprove of me as an appropriate choice for you, so you may as well get used to that if we're going to be together once you resume your rightful place upon the throne."

With a sigh, Ozma finally drops her defensive posture, looking a bit ashamed at her behavior. This particular sore spot between them is further reinforcement for Regina of just how much she and Red have in common with this otherworldly couple.

"You know that station doesn't matter to me," Ozma then says, brushing a hand through Dorothy's brown hair and then allowing it slide down to cup her strong jaw. "I love you just as you are, and so do the people. The nobles can go wrestle a kalidah if they have any objections."

"What's a kalidah?" Snow interjects, curiosity rolling off of her in waves. After Dorothy explains that they are, "huge and monstrous beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigers," Snow adopts an owl like expression. "Oh," she breathes out, lips turning down into a petulant frown. "Well, I'm glad we didn't run into any of those. Tigers are neat, but I don't like bears. They chase the fish away and steal all the honey. So rude..."

At the unexpected response, Regina peers at Snow strangely before turning a wry smile over to Ozma and Dorothy, who each break out into smiles of their own. And just like that, any remaining tension is broken. They pass the next half hour of Regina's brief yet entirely too long convalescence in easy conversation until soon enough it is time for her and Snow to leave.

Before departing, Ozma announces that she needs to take a walk while the two natives of Misthaven prepare themselves to journey back to the crossroads where they entered Oz. In all, she is gone nearly an hour, at the end of which Dorothy looks ready to form an official search posse as if Ozma has gone missing. The idea is absurd considering Ozma's nearly limitless power, but the concern is nonetheless understandable. Love makes people irrational. Even Queens.

As it is, Ozma returns before Dorothy heads out into the falling snow to retrieve her. When she walks back in the door she is wearing a mysterious expression that Regina wants to question. But she is far too aware of the passage of each minute to care much. Her primary motivation is getting back home to her wife.

"Is everyone ready to leave?" Ozma asks a few minutes later when everyone is sitting around the kitchen table.

Fond memories of their breakfast that morning wash over Regina, and she wishes that she had the time to share another meal with her friends. Thoughts of Red preclude such delays, however, for every moment Regina wastes in Oz, Red is held captive in a hellish prison, unable to escape as her body is being ravaged by a curse that Regina is indirectly responsible for.

"I'm ready," she replies, firm in an insistence that Snow also echoes.

"Very well then," says Ozma, and then rises to stand. When everyone is upright along with her, she casts a furtive glance toward Regina.

"Something else on your mind?" she asks, seeing Ozma hesitate to speak whatever it is currently bothering her.

Ozma clears her throat then sheepishly tugs at her lip with her teeth. "I might have neglected to inform you that time passes differently here in my little magical bubble than for the outside world."

Regina's eyes widen and her heart begins to race at the implications. "What? Are you saying we haven't just been in Oz two days?" When Ozma nods, a blush coloring her cheeks, Regina cuts her eyes over at Dorothy, who looks equally guilty. "You knew about this, too?"

"Yes, I did," says Dorothy, sounding truly repentant. "It was my idea not to tell you."

Regina reels back, unable to disguise how hurt she is. Even Snow seems shocked their new friends had declined to inform them of this vital information.

"What? Why? Why wouldn't you tell me about this?" she asks, nothing that Snow remains stiff and silent as Dorothy worries her hands together at her waist.

"As stressed out as you already were over your wife's condition," Dorothy replies, voice as strained as her body language, "and as exhausted as we all were, we agreed it would do no good for you to know you would be away a little bit longer than you originally thought."

The reasoning is not lacking merit. She had drained much of her energy teleporting them all to the cabin as penetrating such a spell that protects this place requires far more effort. Secondly, there is no denying how stressed she has been. Her levels have, since Red bit into that damn apple, been off the charts. And they've only been rapidly increasing with as more distance separated her from her wife who is languishing though an inescapable hell back home. Making plans under such conditions is not advisable or conducive to success. If the positions were reversed, she would have made the very same decision as Dorothy.

Betrayal, however, is blinding her to those salient facts. "And how much longer have we been here, if it's not too impolite for me to ask?" she retorts, seething. "Perhaps I ought to remain ignorant if you're all so convinced of my fragility!"

Sensing Regina's mounting rage, Dorothy adopts a nonthreatening posture meant to deflect aggression. "It wasn't like that, I swear. Ozma wanted to tell you but I encouraged her to keep the secret for your sake. You were already under too much pressure as it is..."

"Worried I might snap, hmm?" Regina fills in the blanks, no less furious than she was ten seconds ago. Would everyone she will ever meet assume the worst of her? "Concerned that I might let the frothing beast out of her cage to go on a little rampage? Or maybe you were afraid that I would kill my sister only to replace her as your totalitarian oppressor?"

Dorothy looks absolutely stricken at that conclusion. "No! I was worried you would lack a clear mind to face Zelena. You have lost an extra day, two at most, and that's not enough for you to imperil your own life in a needlessly hasty bid to obtain the cure."

Unable to stomach any more excuses, Regina explodes. "Forgive me if I am offended at being lied to! At my wife's life being so flippantly toyed with because you want to control me!"

"Well," Dorothy replies, her meekness evaporating in an instant in favor of her own indignation, "forgive me if I actually care about your well-being! You're my friend. The thought of you storming off to get yourself killed made me sick to my stomach. What else was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know...maybe trust me to not be an impulsive imbecile who would rush off in a panic to confront the most powerful sorceress I've ever met who just so happens to be my long-lost half-sister who hates me for no good reason?"

The second the last words of that diatribe escape her lips, she realizes what she's just done. Namely, all but confirmed Dorothy had made the right decision.

Look how easy it was for you to fly off the handle, her internal Red says, choosing now of all times to make a reappearance. I love you, hon, but you are a loose canon under normal circumstances. Imagine how you would have reacted if Dorothy told you about this right away.

But they cost me an entire day, maybe two! she laments. Imaginary Red gives her a look just like the real one for which she needs no interpreter to translate. Just as she always does when someone has offended her, even if that someone was well-intentioned like Dorothy, she is clinging to her anger like an impertinent child. She would be ashamed of herself if she wasn't so upset she can hardly see straight. Unwilling to admit she overreacted, she plows ahead with her imaginary rant, And what if that was the difference between me saving you and coming home with the cure only to discover I'm too late and you're already dead?

As if privy to her thoughts and able to see the invisible knowing smile that spreads across invisible Red's lips, Dorothy says, "Do you see now why I delayed the information? Believe me, I would have informed you immediately if I thought for a second withholding it was the difference between your wife living and dying. I'm a pragmatist but I'm not cruel. I would never do that to you."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" Regina asks, her rage draining out of her unexpectedly. "You lied to me. Friends don't lie to each other."

"They do if it's to keep their friend alive," Snow says, picking the worst moment to interject. It seems that right now both of them are behaving according to form. When Regina starts to argue, she holds up a hand to stop her. "I know. You're mad. You have every right to be. I'm a little mad, too, if I'm being honest. I missed an extra day or two of my daughter's life. But that's a price I'll pay every time if it means you're still here."

Regina hardly knows what to say to that. It's one thing for Dorothy and Ozma to make excuses. It is another for Snow to accept a real, tangible loss as a willing sacrifice on her behalf. There is little Snow treasures more than her daughter. In the letters she has written to Red since Emma's birth, she often waxes poetic about how each day, each hour, and each second with Emma is a gift she wouldn't trade for all the world. For her to give one up for a woman she should by all accounts hate? It's an expression of love and compassion Regina can hardly fathom, not to mention process in such a presently volatile environment.

No one besides Daniel, her father, and Red have ever loved her that much. It's not easy to realize Snow does and far harder to accept the distinct probability that she always has. The implications are life-altering. When she betrayed her step-daughter in one of the worst ways possible, she was betraying a girl whose love – while blind and a little selfish – was likely every bit as pure as her namesake. And if Snow can forgive such heinous treachery, who is she to deny it to Ozma and Dorothy for an infinitesimally lesser transgression? It's a question she doesn't like the answer to.

But the bigger question she has to answer for herself in this moment is simple and yet oh-so-complex. Is she still the same woman she was when Snow turned eighteen or is she the woman Red sees when looking at her through those perceptive green eyes?

"Look," Dorothy then says, "stay angry at me as long as you like. I'd do what I did again because Snow is right. I'd rather you be alive to hate me than be another friend I have to mourn."

"I don't hate you," Regina says, tears pricking at her eyes as the answer to her complicated question registers in her heart. "I don't. I-I understand. I don't like it but I understand. You probably saved my life. It's just...I'm just...it's hard for me to let go of things like this. I've made a reputation of grudge-holding, you know."

Evidently bolstered by the admission, Dorothy slinks forward and risks grasping for Regina's hands. When the gesture is not refused, she says, "I hope it doesn't come to that and that you'll forgive me eventually. I only had your best interest at heart."

"Yes, and I have Red's," Regina says, still a bit testy even after relinquishing most of her anger.

"Do you remember my dream the other night?" Snow says. Regina nods reluctantly. "To be sure Red was still alive, I laid down to sleep while you were recovering. I wasn't sure if I'd see her again. Usually I don't go to the same place twice for months. But I went back to the same Burning Room she's in. I saw her again."

Regina perks up at that. "And? How is she?"

"Weaker, but she is still alive."

Nodding, Regina takes a calming breath. Holding on to this sense of betrayal is doing her no favors, especially when she can see the wisdom in Dorothy's lie of omission.

"Then we must hurry," she says, content to leave her anger behind. Not just for Red's sake, but for the sake of her friendship with Dorothy and Ozma. She cares too much about them both to hold this against them forever.

"Yes, you must," Ozma says. "Though I am loathe to part from you on such poor terms."

Regina sighs, hating how Ozma's sad tone pricked at her conscience. She really is going soft.

"We aren't on poor terms, Ozma," she says, hoping her earnestness is detectable. "I was upset, and for good reason. That said, I can see now that withholding that information from me was in my best interest. I am stubborn and often rash, but I am slowly learning to appreciate the difference between malicious intervention and that which is necessitated by affection. Now that the fog of anger has faded, I recognize what you and Dorothy did was purely out of love. Did it hurt me? Yes, it did. But our friendship is not in jeopardy. Just...don't ever lie to me like that again."

"Believe me, we won't," says Dorothy, clearly grateful for being forgiven.

Regina gives her a brief smile before rubbing her hands together. She has important things to do and less time than she would like in which to do them. "Good," she says. "Then we should be off. I've lingered here long enough. I must get back home to Red."

"As you wish," replies Ozma, who then holds out her hand, one to Dorothy to her right and one to Snow on her left. "Everyone join hands and I will magick us to the crossroads."

When Snow reaches out her hand, Dorothy following suit, Regina takes their proffered appendages and then gives a nod of readiness to Ozma. The fairy Queen of Oz takes a deep breath and then closes her eyes. A heartbeat later, a burst of brilliant jade light emanates from within her being, suffusing the entire cabin its homely warmth and bright intensity. Regina then hears a great whooshing sound as reality begins to unravel. An instant later, the swirling vortex of what used to be the cabin is replaced by a familiar sight. They have arrived at the crossroads.

Regina can hardly contain her excitement. She is almost home.