A/N: Again, sorry I'm late! Tuesdays suck. Hopefully I'll be able to upload while I'm at uni, next week, so you won't have to wait for me to get back home. Anyways, as always, a humongous thank you for y'all's feedback and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

CHAPTER 16 – Emma – Brought

According to my calculations, Regina would have to be back in New York by December 13th, hence, I only had three more days to find an outlet for her little memory issue. However, no matter how hard we looked or how desperately we read those books, every single lead we followed eventually turned out to be a dead end.

Going against my family's natural propensity, I was starting to lose hope. How could we possibly fix such an irreparable mess?! There was something, a hint of a solution, buried in my subconscious and tickling my consciousness just enough to frustrate me, but it was still out of my reach – maybe because I actually wanted it to be.

At the moment, anyway, I had more pressing urgencies to deal with. Regina and I had met in the lounge after she had gone upstairs to get the jewelry box, and we were now sitting on the couch, ready to open it and put the dagger in its place on the velvet pad.

I was planning on doing so as quickly as I could. I didn't know if I would be able to bear the pressing weight of my dark past for much longer than a few seconds: I had a feeling that I wasn't going to enjoy the emotions the magical reaction was going to stimulate, and even less the memories that would, inevitably, follow suit.

Regina, observant as always, had noticed my wavering, and she had put the little bickering from earlier aside for my sake – which I was extremely grateful for. She was being thoughtful and caring, as she had always been when I found myself in emotionally challenging situations, and I appreciated her maturity.

"Are you ready?" she asked me, her eyes filled with worry.

I gave her a resolute nod, and steeled myself for what was about to come. She opened the jewelry box and a wave of darkness and desperation submerged me, just as suffocating and familiar as I had feared. It was a part of myself I had suppressed and shut in the most remote corner of my soul and never thought about, too ashamed and too afraid of it to let my thoughts linger on that fraction of myself.

However, now that it was back all at once, the intensity of those feelings floored me, and I found myself unable to think straight, overwhelmed by the power of my past. Thankfully, I wasn't alone: Regina saw the difficulty I was having and instantly jerked the crystal out of my grip and fit it into its spot inside the box, the flashbacks I was having and the growing pain disappearing along with the blue tint of the tiny dagger.

"Are you alright, dear?" Regina asked.

I had taken into consideration the possibility of seeing fear in her eyes when she would acknowledge that I had once been dark, too; but in those brown irisis I didn't find any trace of that, nor of compassion or pity. There was just selfless, simple worry for my well-being, that softened as soon as I gave her a reassuring smile.

"So, how about dinner at Granny's with your parents?" she suggested in a succeeding attempt at lightening the mood.

"I'll text them right now," I said, my phone already in hand. Nothing better than my family to get over the darkness. After I was done and my heart felt a little lighter, I gave Regina a knowing look.

"What?"

"You like them. Admit it."

"Who?" She feigned confusion. "Your parents? Ha. Very funny."

"You want to go out for dinner with them. You love spending time with them."

"Not in the slightest."

I sighed theatrically, rising from the couch and sticking a hand out to help Regina up. "Remember my superpower?" I smirked as I saw she was taken aback, and I held onto that very rare moment of weakness. I headed towards the pile of books on the coffee table as I continued. "Just wait until my mom knows about this. She'll start scheduling sleepovers every other night, and my father will bring you along for stakeouts, telling you everything he knows about fishing while you wait in the patrol car for a whole lot of nothing to happen. I have the power of damning you to a future so horrible you'll long for another curse."

She stared back at me defiantly, contemplating the truthfulness of my intentions.

"You wouldn't," she stated, finally.

She was right, of course: I would never do something as terrible as that, to her. Even Ruby, who was my mother's best friend, couldn't stand staying around her for more than two hours straight.

"Try me," I said anyway, raising an eyebrow mischievously, and followed her to the kitchen.

She shook her head in disbelief, but didn't comment, changing the topic instead.

"I'm going to make apple pie. Will you help me, or is that too much to ask to your clumsiness?" she mocked.

"Actually, I wasn't the one who set fire to both stove and oven because she couldn't control her magic."

"You were talking about the mean things those kids did to you," she pouted, and for a good moment I couldn't think of anything but the word 'cute', over and over again.

"You also punched a drunk dude because he called me a 'dyke'. Careful, Your Majesty: someone might think you care about me," I joked.

"There were many reasons why I punched that man," she said, forgotten anger threatening to arise. "You can't say he didn't deserve it."

"Well, I did appreciate the sight of a magically unstable, former Evil Queen lose control," I confessed, "but he was drunk and he was an idiot. He wasn't worth you almost breaking your hand."

I grabbed her right hand and studied carefully the bruises that had formed right on top of the knuckles, despite my incantation. Regina used to be the good one at healing spells, not me. Although I couldn't exactly concentrate on that, when our magics were tingling and my heart fluttering at the thrilling sensation.

I made the terrible choice of looking up and catching her gaze, and all of a sudden the world around me disappeared, and there was nothing but her eyes and her mouth and just Regina left, and I really needed to control my impulses but I also didn't want to, because her lips were so soft and her caresses so sweet, and she tasted like heaven and hell in unison. I knew I could live off of Regina's kisses and be the happiest woman in the world; and, although it was such a scary thought, I couldn't help but repress my fears, because nothing mattered at the moment.

It was all tongues and shaky breaths and wandering hands. There wasn't the same urge as the other times: this was just a kiss, none of us meant for it to turn into another quickie on the kitchen island; regardless, it was just as fulfilling.

I smiled when my hand found her neck and I pulled at her scarf; she bit my bottom lip in response and broke the kiss, glaring at me with those beautiful eyes. I was feeling so content, all the time, when I was around her. It felt nice not to care about anything else, just the one person your happiness was starting to depend on.

"Come on, let's make that apple pie," I said then. "You'll do the hard work and I'll annoy you."

"It was so beautiful! For a change, I was glad Neal had woken me up. I was still half-asleep as I changed him, so I almost missed it, but thank gods I peeked outside the window! I woke David up as soon as I saw the sky, we stood there staring until it faded away. So gorgeous…"

We were all sitting at our usual table at Granny's, almost done with our dinners, and I was trying to keep an impassive expression to Snow's story about the Aurora Borealis she had seen the previous night. Of course I knew what had caused it – northern lights weren't a common manifestation in Maine, although neither my parents nor Henry seemed to find it as quirky as I would have – and I hoped nobody noticed the blush that had grown deeper and deeper on Regina's cheeks as mom went on talking.

This whole situation was getting out of hand. Either Regina – and I – learned how to keep her – our – powers under control, and consequently stopped causing those weather-related incidents, or we found a way to get her memories back, or… we just stopped having sex.

Slightly baffled at the realization that it was that last thought, the one that troubled me the most, I cringed at the idea of putting a stopper to… whatever it was, that was going on between us.

It wasn't just 'sex', it had never been solely physical attraction – not even when we first met. Ever since the beginning, it had been more than that: something we had both longed for, a need none of us was aware of having until Regina had left, leaving me emptier than ever. And now that she was back, now that we were once again together, we knew there was no time to waste and we had to take that leap into the unknown that we had always been so afraid of; but, despite this knowledge, that irrational fear remained, clinging onto my guts and my heart. It was paralyzing and so, so wearying, and of course, I couldn't control it.

And it was exactly that terror that had been – and still was – keeping me from putting a label to what I felt for her, too strong for me to even admit to myself what it really consisted in.

Thus, I kept running away from all those feelings, and I kept building up walls, and no matter how well I knew that I would have to face those emotions very soon – I risked losing Regina again, if I didn't – I couldn't bring myself to do it, at the moment.

"… I even took a photo, it was too beautiful not to," my mother was saying, and I snapped out of my thoughts.

She held her phone out for everyone else to see, and I admired the rainbow of blues and purples and greens that was floating in the sky right above – as I had presumed – where Mifflin street was, although Regina's house was too far away to be seen clearly. To our immense luck, neither my parents nor Henry connected the position of that phenomenon to the mansion.

Despite my worry, however, I couldn't stop myself from thinking that we had done a hell of a good job: the sky was stunning, to put it simply. I gazed at Regina, seemingly just as impressed – maybe not as proud of herself as I was, but still – and I had to suppress a smile when she sensed my cockiness and rolled her eyes at me.

She then talked, wittingly diverting the attention from the picture before anyone could figure out where exactly the aurora had formed and put two and two together. "I made apple pie. I brought it over, we can all have some… If Granny doesn't take it personally."

Everyone at the table but me stiffened at her offer, and I couldn't help but snort at their immaturity. Yes, she might have poisoned an apple and yes, maybe an apple turnover, too, and fine, two of the people in this family might have suffered the consequences, but it's not like everything even slightly related to both Regina and apples was a threat, now. Besides, I had diligently supervised her work, and although I hadn't paid any attention to half the things she had done – her backside was definitely more appealing than pastry – I was still pretty sure no sleeping curses had been involved.

Ignoring their reactions, she cut eight perfect sections and in a flash one of the slices was already in my mouth. Granny – whom looked rather supportive, despite the pie not being hers – hurried to take away our empty dishes and replace them with clean dessert ones.

"I think I'll pass," Snow said, paler than ever, distrustfully eyeing the pastry.

Henry, on the other hand, very bravely took a big piece of pie and devoured it, not doubting for a second his mother's intentions – he was way past that phase, now.

Not that my mom didn't trust Regina; I thought it was more of a natural reaction, an irrational instinct of self-preservation.

After David had surrendered to the tasty treat as well, Regina spoke up again. "Come on, Miss Blanchard. 'It's apple pie that makes the menfolks' mouths water'!"

Maybe it was the impression of the hag from the Disney movie, or maybe the quote being said by the actual Evil Queen herself, but my mother's face turned a very worrying shade of green and she straight-up passed out on her seat.

No one said anything for a good second, too confused and puzzled to do anything; then I burst out into a laugh, both at the horror on Regina's demeanor and at my mother's exaggerated reaction, and David proceeded to lift her legs up and gently stroke her hair, asking a waiter for a wet towel.

"I think it's some sort of PTSD or something," Henry muttered, just as worried about his grandmother but also imperceptibly amused. "After, you know, her history with apples."

"Oh, come on," I retorted, "she's just overreacting. Now she acts like she's been poisoned only by the sight of an apple…"

"Well, would you look at that?" Regina crossed her arms on her chest and arched a brow. "It appears that being a drama queen is hereditary."

"Why are we here, again?" Regina complained while we stepped out of the bug and closerto the building.

I had had to make a quick stop at the station after dinner: my father was taking care of both Neal and my mother by himself, and he had forgotten my brother's spare pacifier in his office, a few days prior – the usual one was nowhere to be found, according to him. I had told him that keeping Neal's stuff in his pockets wasn't a good idea – and, of course, I had to drag Regina along as well.

"My dad left something here," I explained briefly. We entered the station, heading towards my office, following the route that I had been taking every morning for the past few years and that I was, admittedly, starting to miss.

"Sorry, correction – what am I doing here?" she précised, and Ruby greeted us with the brightest of smiles as we entered. She was covering my father's shifts on the weekend – hence why she wasn't at Granny's earlier – and she was currently filling up some paperwork.

"You're here because you can't stay away from me," I smirked, getting a snort in response, accompanied by a disgusted grimace.

"In your dreams, maybe," Regina retorted.

"Oh, you have no idea what you do in my dreams," I shot back with a smirk, and I burst into a cackle at the shock that grew on her face.

"Hi guys," Ruby said, interrupting that little flirt with a knowing grin that I couldn't completely understand. She looked like she was holding back something, the sparkle in her eyes proving that she was suppressing some sort of glee. "How are ya?" She then managed to let out, her gaze darting from me to Regina and back – frantically so.

"We're fine, thank you?" Regina replied, just as puzzled as me. "How about you?"

She didn't say anything for a moment, but then she proceeded to nod excitedly and she jumped up from her chair, circling the desk to hug us tight, just like that.

A very, very high-pitched squeal escaped her lips when she let us go – my eardrums were never going to be the same – and she kept staring at us in awe, her hands over her mouth as if they could hide her huge grin.

"Rubes?" I questioned. What was up with her?!

"I'm-just-very-happy-for-you-guys-and-I-think-you-make-a-very-cute-couple-and-I've-been-waiting-for-years-for-you-to-finally-get-together-and-you-look-so-happy-it-hurts," she rambled, a vomit of words that I could barely make out the sense of.

"We're not a couple," Regina and I immediately pointed out, talking in unison.

It was almost comical, how quickly Ruby's smile disappeared, replaced by a hardly-contained, raw fury. "Pardon?" she asked, pronouncing those two syllables menacingly slowly.

I didn't have enough time to repeat myself: a blinding light shone through the rolling shutters, a bright, green beam that came from Main Street.

We didn't think twice before we all ran out of the station and towards the cause of that light, curious and worried about what had just happened.

The cool air bored my skin as I stepped outside, and clouds of condensed breath were floating around us each time we exhaled.

"What was that?" Regina asked, looking around but not seeing anything out of place. I also scoped the area; the lack of light surely didn't help, my eyes unable to pierce through the veil of the recently fallen night.

However, one of us did have such an ability, all thanks to her werewolf 'superpowers'. And, in fact, she gasped when she managed to see what had produced the ray of green light, exclaiming a single, apparently nonsense word.

"Kansas?!"