The whole world was cold and dark. Regina could barely put together a coherent thought, let alone do anything but sit huddled in the corner, shaking and sobbing, as the hooded creatures moved outside. Visions of green light and the sound of a body hitting the ground flooded her mind.

"Daniel!" she screamed.

There was no way out of this cell, and even if there were, she wouldn't have had the energy to run or hide. You couldn't escape from a dementor anyway. She had never been able to produce a patronus.

So this is how it ends, she thought. Eighteen years old, alone and helpless, reliving all of her worst memories while the dementors fed off her pain. Catching sight of them just outside for a second before she was back at home, a little girl sobbing because she broke her mother's favorite mirror and being lifted up into the air with a levicorpus spell until she promised to be good.

All of a sudden, the icy-cold panic was gone, and the vision faded into the walls of her cell. Regina looked up to see a silvery swan patronus and a familiar girl in a red leather jacket standing in the open doorway to the cell. Emma didn't meet her eye, didn't even acknowledge that she was there, but her presence was enough, and Regina knew she was there to save her. Even though Regina had already been tried before the kangaroo court that was the Wizengamot and sentenced to life in this living hell that was Azkaban.

"Snow and I, we've convinced them to change your sentence," said Emma. "Exile, not Azkaban. You can never use magic again, and you can never try to return to the magical world. If you do, you wind up right back in here. It was the best we could do."

Even after their falling out, Emma was trying to protect her, and that had to count for something. Maybe … maybe it was just the patronus talking, but maybe they even still had a chance together. Then she saw how cold and hard Emma's eyes were, and Regina knew she hadn't been forgiven.

Over a decade later, Regina was jolted awake as the nightmare faded away.

Emma showed up at Regina's house again the next day. It was getting to be so routine that the older woman wouldn't have even blinked, except that her nightmare still lingered. It was so strange to see Emma Swan, the current Emma, when she couldn't get the teenage version out of her head.

"Just thought I'd stop by and see if you have any more of that apple pie," Emma said.

Regina smiled. It might not be much, it might not be what she had wanted all those years ago, and maybe it wasn't even really forgiveness, but it was something.

Still, her hands shook as she cut the pie, and she picked at her slice while Emma and wolfed hers down. Henry stubbornly refused to eat his and begged Emma not to touch it, insisting that his mother's apples were poison. But Regina had no reason to poison Emma, and certainly not Henry.

(Not that the Draught of the Living Death was a poison. It was a sleeping potion, a distinction most people didn't care to make.)

"Hey, is everything OK?" Emma asked through a mouthful of pie. "The kid will get over it sooner or later."

Regina shrugged. She wasn't so sure about that, and it was hardly the only thing on her mind. Not like she was going to tell Emma about her nightmares. They might have been that close once, but that was a long time ago.

"I'm fine," she said.

They both knew it wasn't true, but neither of them said so. Instead, Regina listened while Emma blabbered about her Auror work, both of them laughing at the incompetence of some of the new recruits. But then her laugh faded, and she warned Regina: "Keep an eye on Henry. There's definitely someone out there going after magical kids."

"Of course," said Regina. She hesitated, but she knew she needed to ask. "Will you help me? There's not much I can do if someone with magic comes after him."

Emma smiled and reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

"Don't worry," she said. "No one's going to touch our son."

Our son. Regina liked the sound of that.

Belle walked through the streets of Hogsmeade dressed in witches' robes, with puffy eyes and trembling hands, fidgeting with the wedding ring on her finger. She let herself in through the front door of the Three Broomsticks and slumped down at a table across from a dark-haired girl dressed in muggle clothes. Reaching into the folds of her robe, Belle pulled out a small bottle of potion and placed it on the table between them.

"Wolfsbane," she whispered. "It should be enough for the next full moon."

"Thanks," said Ruby with a grin. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Belle sighed and looked back down at the ring on her finger.

"Is everything okay?" Ruby asked. "You seem a bit … distracted"

Belle sighed. "I think … Rumple's been lying to me. I found a number in his phone, and I called it yesterday."

"You think he's cheating on you?" Ruby leaned forward, something dangerous flashing in her eyes.

"Oh, absolutely not!" Belle sputtered. "With the Evil Queen? Rumple may be many things, but he would never sink that low. No, I wish we had ordinary problems like that."

"You think he's doing something wrong, then?"

Ruby didn't say what Belle knew she was thinking: that any wizard capable of creating a horcrux was not to be trusted and that the young Hogwarts librarian was a fool for loving him, a fool for thinking he had changed.

"I want there to be an explanation," she said. "But Regina told me what he was planning, and it was …" she shuddered. "I think I may have been wrong for thinking I could save him."

Far away, in a mansion in the English countryside, the infamous seer sat at his kitchen table with a curved dagger in his hand. The name Rumplestiltskin was carved into the blade. As he stared at it, a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I made you out of fear," he whispered. "I needed to live long enough to find my son again, and what choice did I have? But I can change the past. I can save my son and never split my soul to begin with."

Glaring at the blade, he said in a harsh voice: "I will be free from you, dearie. Just watch and see."