A/N- I'm sorry that it's been so long, but I was waiting for better inspiration. I do not want to put myself on a schedule, and end up rushing and posting weak chapters. Secondly, I have just posted a poll pertaining to the ending of this story on my profile. Do check it out, if you have the time.

-S.

Emma was pleasantly surprised at how easy sailing up the highway in her yellow monstrosity was. She'd had her reservations at first- she could sail a ship, sure, but captain this foreign rust bucket? She was less than confident. Somehow, whatever magic had brought her there, had tried to brainwash her with fake memories, it had also given her knowledge enough to drive like a pro.

One less problem to worry about, ninety-nine to go.

She and Henry passed the time with even more conversation. He sat in the passenger seat with a map she didn't remember owning on his lap, yelling out directions as they became necessary. In between random hollers of "Turn left up here!" and "That one is definitely the off ramp!" they traded easy stories, both trying to soak up as much of the other's world as possible.

"I don't understand how these things are safe in the slightest!" she'd exclaimed once they'd merged onto the freeway.

"It's just a car," Henry had said, shrugging off her fear absently. "Everyone has them."

"Do you have one?" she questioned, slightly terrified of the answer. She did not remember ever seeing a child behind the wheel of one of these things in her other memories. Still, she wouldn't rule anything out in this strange realm.

Henry laughed at her question, the sound of it, infectious and boisterous; as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever been asked. "Of course not, I'm a kid!"

"So you are," Emma muttered to herself, watching the flow of traffic around her. The shock of this new world and her place in it had still not worn off. Her son, who just yesterday was an unborn miracle, now sat beside her, already eleven years old. Oh, what she wouldn't give to turn back the clock.

"You're sad," he said, after a moment, catching on to her downturned mood.

His words alerted her to the moisture gathering at her eyelids. She blinked furiously, keeping her eyes on the road, and chided herself internally. Don't cry. Don't cry. Pirates don't cry.

"I'm fine, Lad. I promise." She took a moment to think, wracking her brain for a new topic of conversation. "Tell me more about Storybrooke. I'm going to need to be prepared."

For the next few hours, Henry told Emma everything he knew about Storybrooke, and about the curse. He told her that everyone had new names; that Mary Margaret, her mother, was his school teacher, and that her father was in a coma. He told her that the curse was meant to be unbreakable, because, according to his book, True Love's Kiss was the only thing strong enough to break it, but, as her parent's had discovered long ago, memory curses could not be broken by True Love's Kiss.

That was why he needed the Savior, he'd said, because even in a land without magic, she was still the embodiment of True Love. Emma wasn't so sure that she believed that, but she was willing to try. If she ever wanted her life to go back to the way it was, then she was going to have to do something.

XxxXxxX

Regina Mills nearly had a heart attack when she'd woken up that morning. Henry was gone, completely and utterly gone. She'd spent the wee hours of the morning checking every little nook and cranny of their house before giving up and brewing a locator potion. It wasn't easy, given the lack of magic in the town, but Rumple had made sure that there was just enough for the two of them and their tricks.

Sometime after eight o'clock, in the safety of her room, she doused the potion on one of Henry's sweatshirts, and waited. It had only taken a moment for the garment to rise, weakly, from the bed on which she had placed it, and follow a lazy path in the open air of the room. It had taken even less time for the thing to drop to the floor indecisively.

The sight of the limp fabric had her heart dropping to her toes painfully, and in that instant, she was done playing games. There were only two things that that could mean: either he was not in Storybrooke any longer, or- or the Queen would come out to play. With a flick of her wrist, she disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke, only to reappear seconds later in the show room of one very depressing pawn shop.

She took a breath, letting the feeling of so many magical objects wash over her. The atmosphere in here made the rest of the town feel extraordinarily suffocating. The room was empty, except of course, for hundreds of magical knickknacks and stolen treasures covered in dust. "Isn't somebody supposed to be waiting for me at the front desk?" she asked an ancient looking bookshelf.

"Isn't it a little early for a visit, Your Majesty?"

Regina spun at the sound of the voice, ginning darkly at the older man. He really ought not to be so cocky with limited magic and a bad limp. One might actually mistake him for a feeble old man. "My town, my rules," Regina informed him, holding out her empty palm. For a short moment, the Dark One wondered if he was missing something, if she had requested something he had forgotten about. A second, and another puff of smoke later, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the very old, very powerful dagger.

"Henry is missing," she informed him. "I tried a locator spell, and it failed." She took a few steps towards him, dagger still raised and at the ready. Only when it rested at the column of his neck did she stop. "You will find him, or you will pay."

XxxXxxX

Hours later, the bright yellow car sped into town. Emma breathed a sigh of relief, feeling instantly better just knowing that this place, this magical little town, if Henry was to be believed, was real. He told her that she should let him out on the sidewalk of Main Street, saying that he could walk the rest of the way. He said that she could stay at Granny's Bed and Breakfast while she was in town, (she was curious to see if this Granny was indeed her Aunt Red's granny, someone who had become part of her family long ago) and that she probably shouldn't meet his mom quite yet.

"Your m-" Emma started to ask, but cut herself off after realizing just what she would be admitting by saying it. She was his mother, his only mother. "Who is she?" she asked instead, anxious to see just what she was getting herself into.

There was a pause, and then, "The Evil Queen."

Emma's only response was to ask him where she lived.

She could feel something, magic maybe, prickle at her skin as they approached the castle. Yes, they may have been in a new realm, a realm in which castles were not nearly as common, but that was the only way she could think to describe it. The house, if you could call it that, sat on two levels, a balcony and columned entrance adorning the front. It was pained a bright white and had wide, shuttered windows lining both stories. A house fit for a queen.

Before they'd even had a chance to take two steps up the front walk, the front door swung open, and the queen herself emerged. She looked different here, far less dramatic, but no less dangerous. Her dark eyes shot daggers at Emma before she caught sight of Henry beside her.

"Henry," she sighed, her entire face melting. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" She approached them as quickly as she could in her ridiculously high heels, and wrapped Henry in a tight hug. Instantly, Emma was feeling jealous and territorial.

"I know, Mom," he returned when she finally, finally let go of him. "I'm sorry. I just- I had to." He didn't tell Regina just why he had to, that he had found the one person capable of breaking her curse, the curse she was busy trying to convince him wasn't real.

She knew anyway. Regina's eyes lifted back up to settle on Emma over Henry's shoulder. The anger bubbled up inside of her, moments away from exploding. She couldn't though, not here, not now. Still, she wasted absolutely no time telling this newcomer exactly what was on her mind. "You stay the hell away from my son."

Emma's hand unconsciously reached for the cutlass that was no longer at her hip. "Listen, witch-"

Regina's eyes got impossibly wide at that. It was almost funny, to see the Evil Queen taken by surprise in such a way. The reaction told Emma all that she needed to know. Regina had had no idea whose son she had stolen. Up until two seconds ago, Henry could have belonged to anyone. Not anymore.

An image appeared in Regina's mind, of a little girl with golden hair and emeralds for eyes. A little girl, with a tiny bejeweled crown on her head. Now, it had become abundantly clear to her that she may have made a small mistake. Not Henry. No, never Henry, but, of all the children, in the entire world, she had to pick Snow White's grandson.

"Get off of my property, princess," she said the title with just as much venom as Emma had, "or I promise you, you'll never leave it again."