The crowded exam cubicle at Storybrooke's General Hospital is smaller than a standard walk-in closet. Thus, the group of people inside the confined space are forced to either stand or sit virtually shoulder to shoulder.

Weil passes a concerned look between Snow and Emma. "You should be fine now that the situation has resolved itself," He glances at Regina and clears his throat. "at least for the two of you. You may have some residual symptoms, but…"

"Residual? You mean like a searing headache and extreme sensitivity to light?" Emma quips impatiently from her perch on the edge of the exam table. "I feel like someone is driving rusty spikes into my eyes!"

Weil nods apologetically as he steps over to the door and turns off the lights opening the door to allow indirect lighting from the hallway before stepping to the window and repositioning the blinds to allow in only a minimal amount of light, he continues, "Now that you're no longer… with child… Your headache should subside. It may take a little while, but I'm confident the symptoms will fade. Neither of you carried him long enough for him to do any lasting damage."

Emma blows out an exasperated puff of air as Snow reaches for and pats her hand affectionately.

"I can give you something for your headache, but under the circumstances, I'm not entirely certain it will work."

"Great!" Emma snaps sarcastically as she pats her jacket pockets with her free hand; looking for sunglasses.

More relieved than annoyed, Snow shrugs from the only chair in the room "I may be conscious, but I still feel incredibly woozy. My knees have the consistency of Jell-O. I think it's time to go home and relax."

Weil nods. "That's a good idea. Try to stay off your feet for a few hours. If you're lightheaded, nauseous, or dizzy, it's a good idea that you take it easy and not be alone for a while."

"Don't worry about that, Doc. She's going straight home to bed." David declares quietly; his patient words belied by the irritation clearly shown on his face.

Robin drops a protective arm around his wife's shoulders and gently nudges her in Emma's direction. "Why don't you go over next to Emma and sit down? You look like you're ready to drop."

"Because I don't want to sit next to Emma." Regina snaps derisively as she shrugs out from under Robin's arm and steps as far away from him as possible in the overcrowded room.

Emma quips defensively "Hey, I showered this morning. I've even had all my shots."

Regina rolls her eyes. "I don't want to sit next to you because at this moment I'm not entirely sure I'm in control of my own body. I feel like I'm on the verge of spontaneous combustion, or at the very least, I might randomly shoot flames out of the top of my head! Thanks to these two…" She gestures toward her sister and brother-in-law, "I've become a human Tiki torch; one that can apparently ignite without the benefit of matches or warning."

Zelena scowls. "It's not as if we chose for this to happen, Regina."

"I realize that, but I'm afraid David isn't entirely wrong. You two really do need to set some boundaries with Eliana while you still can. She does whatever she wants because she knows there's never any serious consequence for her actions."

Zelena glares at her sister "What do you want us to do? Lock her in a dungeon until the next full moon?"

"Of course not! That's over the top and it especially wouldn't be helpful now. Elia already resents her little brother. Punish her severely now, and she's just going to blame it on him. What you need to do now make her feel secure enough to reverse this on her own - by her own choice. If you bribe her or force her, she's just going to hate him." Regina closes her eyes and swallows hard against rolling waves of dizziness and unrelenting nausea. "Don't rush her, but don't let her drag her heels either because …I am not giving birth to the kid for you. That means we've got three months to change her mind." Regina swallows again, battling indigestion as beads of perspiration appear without warning on her brow and neck. She covers her mouth to conceal a discreet burp and then plows onward stubbornly. "But right now, we have more pressing matters to deal with. We've got to get all those containment boxes with the dementors in them someplace safe."

"Aren't we just taking them back to the underworld?" Hades frowns quizzically.

Regina nods and then shakes her head as she steps back, leaning against the wall for support. "Yes, we are. Just not now. I can't handle a trip anywhere right now; much less the underworld. I've got to find a way to get a handle on this first." She glances at her sister. "If you're up for it, I could use some help. I think I've come up with a way to make Fiona talk."

Zelena squints. "So far, even the threat of a one-way trip into the eternal flames of Tartarus hasn't loosened her tongue."

"No, but if we can make her feel the way I do right now – Zelena, how the hell did you survive doing this once; much less decide to do it a second time? I feel like a volcano just erupted in my uterus!" Regina fans herself with one hand and instinctively reaches out for Robin; seeking physical support as she closes her eyes and silently wills herself not to pass out or vomit. "If we can make her feel this way… she will talk. She'll spill the beans on every ancient secret she knows just to make it stop."

Horror seizes Hades. "You're not suggesting we transplant my child into that… that wretched lunatic fairy?"

Regina scowls. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. I'm suggesting that Zelena help me write a spell. A new one, because for the best of my knowledge, no such spell currently exists and I'm not sure I can think clearly enough to do it on my own, right now. I don't want to transfer the baby to her. I just want to make her feel like we have. One dose of this and…"

Regina stops unable to continue and simply makes eye contact with her sister who giggles with a wicked delight. "Oh, let me at her!"

"We'll meet at my vault in an hour. No, make that two hours. I think I need an ice bath before my internal organs melt!"

Queen Regina announces her regal presence by throwing open her front door and striding through it, wholly unconcerned with the amount of noise she's making. A woman on a mission, she ignores all things except for her own discomfort and angrily stomps into the center of the great room; her high heeled boots tapping out their hostile staccato rhythm as she goes.

While Robin closes the door behind her, her father and their children step quickly into the great room. Each of them coming from elsewhere inside the house with their inquiring eyes pointed her way as she marches unimpeded toward the grand staircase on her way to the master suite high overhead on the third floor.

Forced to battle amplified pregnancy symptoms that she's not genetically equipped to handle, her skin is rosy and glistening with perspiration as she mutters under her breath in hostility and kicks off her boots, shucks her coat and strains, without much success, to reach the laces at the back of her overly-tight corset.

Robin trails along behind her, quickly picking up her discarded clothing as he follows her up the stairs.

Both the faces of her father and his namesake exhibit concerned but curious expressions while Roland grins ear to ear. Young Norah mirrors the emotions she finds on all their faces in rapid-fire succession.

As her mother stomps up the stairs repeatedly altering between the two physical manifestations of her singular personality, her three-year-old daughter doesn't know whether to stare in fascination, concern, curiosity, worry, or outright glee. She's not quite sure what is going on, but something is definitely happening. Mama doesn't go all – what's that word that Papa and Roland use? They call it majestic. She doesn't go majestic every day but when she does, Norah knows, somebody somewhere is in really big trouble. She squints in troubled uncertainty for a single instant as she tries to remember if she's done anything bad. When nothing comes immediately to mind, she turns her gaze to Robin, who pauses halfway up the intricately carved spiral staircase to smile down at her and wink reassuringly.

Daddy isn't worried about it. Relieved, Norah's dark curls sway gently as she shakes her head and smiles, trying not to giggle out loud. Whatever is happening, it's not her fault. She didn't do it.

Less than ten minutes later, Robin cringes in response to the temperature of her bath water as he gently lathers his wife's back and then rinses the soap away slowly. "I didn't see you throw a bucket of ice in the tub, but I swear the water feels as though you did. You never take baths this cold. Usually, you prefer water that is two degrees shy of scalding you."

"I've never been impregnated with a demon-child either." Regina silently relishes the chill of nearly frigid water cascading down her bare back as the deity in her swollen belly kicks mercilessly in objection to the same. "Robin, even Vesuvius didn't burn like this. I feel like I'm boiling from the inside out."

"I believe you." He says sympathetically; his eyes taking in the rosy hue of her skin despite the chill of the water. "No one else could sit in water this cold, and perspire at the same time. Do you feel any better at all?"

"Marginally. Leave it to me to be wearing a corset the moment my niece decides to magically play prenatal hopscotch with her little brother. At least now I can breathe. Significant blood flow has returned to my uterus. That has to help some."

Robin frowns with mild disappointment. "no more corsets for you until we figure out how to entice Eliana to return her little brother to his rightful place. You want a nap before meeting with your sister?"

"Yes, I do. Do me a favor… find a big plastic bag and put the bed linens in the freezer for twenty minutes first."

"Seriously? Should I just make room in the freezer for you?"

"If I say yes to that he will probably kick hard enough to break ribs. Robin, I mean it. I have no clue how she did this once, much less willingly decided to do it a second time."

"Maybe she didn't." He flashes his roguish grin and kisses her cheek lightly before rising from his perch on the side of her tub.

Releasing her hold on her own knees, and relaxing against the back of the tub, Regina submerges in water up to her shoulders and raises a quizzical eyebrow. "Maybe she didn't?"

"Maybe she didn't willingly decide to do it again. Maybe they just got caught by surprise."

Regina wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Eww, Robin!"

"What?" He shrugs nonchalantly. "Things like that happen all the time, love."

"Yes, but I hadn't put that much thought into exactly how my sister got knocked up the second time around… and I wish you hadn't either. That's just disturbing."

Robin laughs freely. "I wouldn't say I've put much thought into it. Truth be told, not much thought is required. Probably not even on his dad's part. Your sister probably turns on the charm and slides up next to him with all that red hair, and warm flesh, smiling with all those pearly white teeth of hers and Lord Death probably becomes Joe Caveman. The only thought or communication he's capable of at that point likely consists of monosyllabic grunts."

Chuckling wryly, Regina's smile slides into a grimace as the sharp point of either a tiny heel or elbow finds and pummels one of her kidneys. "Robin, right now, I don't even want to think about our sex life much less that of Joe Caveman and Broom Hilda. Change the subject… Or go make me a snow cone."

When Zelena approaches the Mills family mausoleum that afternoon, much to her surprise, she finds the door unlocked. Stepping in, she takes the stairs cautiously, descending into her sister's underground magical storehouse and private sanctuary. Her heeled boots tip-tap out their own two-part staccato rhythm on the stone floor and reverberate off the equally solid walls of the cavernous lair making her presence known at once even though she does not speak any more than Regina immediately acknowledges her presence. Yet, each sister is inherently aware of the other.

In the moments before they speak Zelena stares quietly, more than a little perplexed by the sight before her. She's already more than familiar with the ancient walls lined with inlaid shelves that are home to any number of magical oddities. Not to mention the trunks, chests, and curio cabinets filled with items that represent or imbue countless magical properties and powers; be they friend or foe, benign or malignant. She's also equally familiar with the well laid out workspace; utilitarian in nature and fully serviceable to meet any and all possible needs that a skilled and industrious mage from their bloodline might have.

She's hardly any less familiar with the modest, yet nonetheless, luxurious living space along the back wall of the vault – the queen's regal version of a fallout shelter in the event that she should ever need a place to lay low. Here in this private place, her sanctum sanctorum she has access to shelter, sustenance, comfort, and unimaginable power.

None of this puzzles Zelena. The room is as it always is. What mystified her is the woman within. More than thirty feet away, near the center of the room, with her head bent over a heavy oak hewn worktable; its surface virtually covered with spell books, is her sister. Or, perhaps more aptly put, the one who Zelena considers to be her sister's darker half.

Regina peruses her reading material with the dark eye makeup, dazzling jewelry, and the intricate updo that have become synonymous with the formidable royal. What catches Zelena by surprise is the entirely unexpected attire. Although her feet are clad in heeled boots, the heels are noticeably shorter; their heavy block style offering considerably more support than her usual stilettos; and the dress may be haute couture and made of the finest satin but the loose-fitting bohemian peasant-style maternity wear seems entirely foreign and out of place for her younger sibling.

Regina raises an eyebrow without taking her eyes away from the text currently in hand. "Are you going to stand there and stare until nightfall, or are you going to come help, Greenie."

"I'm staring because I'm trying to figure out how you're upright and mobile. I thought by now you'd be curled into a fetal position in a dark corner pleading for mercy."

"Tempting, very tempting actually, but hardly helpful. There's no point in dallying. This situation isn't going to resolve itself or get better if I surrender to your pint-sized deity. As horrible as I feel right now, I've had him with me long enough to figure a few things out. He likes to be warm, not cold. He hates restrictive clothing. He prefers motion over inactivity, and he either has an extreme fondness for Caribbean jerk chicken, or he's been mollified and severely subdued by bonnet chilies and jalapenos."

Zelena squints in alarm. "Regina, what are you feeding my baby?"

Regina tosses her a look that clearly says she's a few queens short of the full deck. "I told you; Caribbean jerk chicken. It's one of Robin's recipes. He found it a few months ago in one of my magazines. Decided to try his hand at making it. It's become a household favorite. Either Junior likes it, or he scared of it. I'm not sure which, but at least he's stopped break dancing on my pancreas and trying to melt my uterus from the inside out. I'm still dizzy. My ears are still ringing like the bells of Saint Michael's Cathedral, and my body temperature changes erratically, and without warning, from volcanic to sub-arctic, but at least I can stand upright without hurling lightning from the palms of my hands for no reason at all."

Zelena's blue eyes go wide. "You hurl lightning? I haven't managed to do that… Yet."

Regina shrugs. "You're not capable of shadow casting. Daddy and Henry are keeping a safe distance. Norah is frequently found peeking out from behind Robin's legs with a bizarre look that says she doesn't know whether to be worried or awestruck and Roland…" Regina laughs. "Roland looks at me as if I'd been anointed by the gods. 'Do it again Regina! Do it again!' He's my little daredevil." Regina pauses thoughtfully before asking, "Have you found that, while pregnant, you have the ability to cuss Hades in foreign languages that you aren't even remotely familiar with?"

Zelena raises a thoughtful eyebrow. "Well, I've certainly screamed at him, and I'm fairly certain that not all of it was ladylike but, as far as I know, I haven't screamed at him in a different language."

"Half an hour ago, I screeched at Robin without realizing that I was doing it in a foreign tongue until he turned to me and demanded, 'Woman, if you're going to curse me, at least do it in a language I can understand!' I can't explain how, because I've never spoken it in my life, but I'm fairly certain it was ancient Greek. I also find it rather comical that although he didn't know what I was saying, he still knew with absolute certainty that I was cursing him."

Zelena shrugs and offers her sister a telling smile. "That's not too difficult to understand, sis. He's a married man. He's probably been cursed in English. Whether he understands the words or not, he understands the tone, the attitude, and the body language that come with them. He knows when he's about to be burned in effigy. So does Hades. As for the foreign language, it wouldn't surprise me if it were Greek. That kid has made me do all sorts of weird things."

"Such as?"

Zelena shakes her head and she shrugs. "I've never had a green thumb in my life, but that little guy likes to bring dead plants back to life. I touched a withering fern last week and, voila! Instant rejuvenation! However, he either doesn't know the difference yet, or he's indiscriminate. He'll just as soon grow weeds as foliage."

Regina returns the dusty tome she's holding to the table and looks down at her own belly, resting a hand gently atop the healthy bump found there. "Lord Death sires a child who not only has the ability to, but apparently prefers, to resurrect things? Things are about to get really interesting in your house."

Zelena chuckles as she steps around the table and places her own hand on her sister's belly.

Both the women's eyes go wide immediately, and Regina's mouth forms a perfect O. She forces herself to stand still, allowing her sister the only contact she has with her unborn child at the moment until she can no longer tolerate the assault happening within. To soften her withdrawal she offers, "He knows you're here."

Zelena lets her take a ½ step away and then, making a halfhearted effort to disguise her own disappointment, she snaps, "Nice to know I'm not the only one he torments."

Regina rolls her eyes and dryly returns fire. "Yes, that would comfort you."

She's on the verge of saying something more but upon seeing the cloud of genuine pain reflected back to her in the redhead's normally bright blue eyes, she changes her mind. Regina knows she would've gone completely mad if their situations were reversed; if she'd had to rely on Zelena to care for Norah in this way it would have been intolerable to her. So instead, she says, "He misses you as much as you miss him. That's why he's decided to pummel me. Let's concentrate on finding a way to deal with Fiona and her dementors. The sooner we find a way to resolve that situation, the sooner we can find a way to coax Eliana into reversing this situation."

Instantly on board, Zelena gestures to all the open spell books as she declares, "I'm game! Exactly what do you have in mind."

"Well, as I was saying earlier, Eliana's prenatal version of musical chairs got me to thinking…"

An hour later, when the two of them arrive at the old converted apple barn, they step into the great room to find friends and family waiting; their eager eyes teeming with expectation. Hades, anxious for a resolution, is the first to speak.

"What's the plan? When do we go?" When neither woman answers him immediately, he prods impatiently. "You do have a plan?"

Regina's husband and her oldest son laugh aloud with their unshakable faith. "Of course, she has a plan. She always has a plan."

Zelena steps close and touches his shoulder reassuringly. "We can go now if you want. Well…" she glances down at her own loose-fitting attire. "I should have changed earlier; into something that fits a little better." She lifts her hands, a breath away from snapping her fingers and magically changing her ensemble when her sister thinks better of it and stops her.

"Zelena, don't."

She squints in confusion. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Not to sound like a broken record, but this has to be about your baby. It's the most important thing going on in your life right now and Fiona…. Well, let's face it. She's the queen of baby snatchers. She snatched her own grandson."

Zelena nods, catching on. "So, don't make it plainly obvious that I'm not currently pregnant and… You need a jacket."

Hades interrupts. "Can't she just stay here with the baby?"

Zelena shakes her head. "Sorry love. Brand new spell. The ink's not even dry on the parchment yet. It's really powerful magic, and we've only had one test run. We both need to be there to back each other up in case things don't go the way we plan."

Robin and Henry speak up again with wide confident smiles that belie their teasing question. "When do they ever?"