I borrowed a few lines from 3.20: Kansas in this one! There's some magical violence near the end of this, nothing too extreme but vaguely graphic. Also: plot. Lots and lots of plot. We're probably down to only 3-4 more chapters now, but I'll keep you posted on that.

Emma's section of this chapter is split into two, one before Henry's and one after.

xxiii.i. damnation

It's hours before curfew but the town is still on edge, gathered around in Granny's diner and murmuring in hushed tones as they look to the sky. Regina had warded the place against Zelena earlier that day and now she sits back, looking bored, as Emma conferences quietly with Shenzi in the doorway.

"Any sign of movement and you come and get me, okay? We can't play it safe with this many people in one place. I don't want Zelena or Gold anywhere near this…celebration." She's going to protect her family, she knows that with fierce determination. And yeah, she doesn't know how. She glances across the room, where the Blue Fairy is probably raining blessings down on the baby to a beaming Mary Margaret. Is fairy dust light magic?

Am and Si snigger together, and Emma frowns down at them, already on edge. "I mean it. Get me. Don't…don't do anything without me." Henry may have been imagining things the other day but she isn't totally oblivious to her deputies' methods. Less than ideal for peaceful times. Absolutely necessary when they're a town under siege.

But Granny had refused to allow any of them inside today- had even balked when Emma had tried to enter, but Red had shot a nervous look at Snow and nudged her into staggering aside- and maybe it's time for damage control.

Emma weaves through the crowd and tries to ignore the murmurs that follow her to her seat with Regina. "They're talking about you, love," Regina murmurs, her whole body stiff and arched and only her neck angled downward so she can watch the rest of the room. She looks like a feline about to leap, crouched dangerously in the grass before she turns the room to blood.

Emma chooses to believe that it's out of solidarity. Regina gets just as many dirty looks, though hers are nothing new. She doesn't know how Regina has borne them until now, that uncanny sensation of unwanted that accompanies her everywhere.

Well…she's tried to wipe out everyone in the town and cursed them to Maine in the first place. Which is one way of coping.

But she'd come a long way since then. Emma remembers for a moment the day after she'd crawled out of that well- remembers an awkward phone call and overly polite conversation and the invitation to a welcome back party that she'd begun as "So, Henry would like to see you tomorrow if you'd come?" even though Henry hadn't even mentioned his mother in the excitement of the party and she'd been pretty much all Emma had thought of since that smile and Welcome back and the whispered admissions about his mother Henry had made in the dark of their shared bedroom the night before.

"I don't even think she wants to be bad anymore, Emma. She saved you today. And she says she loves me."

And then had come the party and a dozen dirty looks every time Regina had shifted, but Henry had been comfortable beside her and Regina hadn't looked like the evil queen everyone else had known her as, just a mother caught up in her son with a smile that's never looked more natural on her face. Emma had peeked at her through the night and thought of a dozen conversation starters and had vacillated- Worst enemy? Co-mom? Necessary evil?- until Regina had already slipped out the door.

That's how Regina had coped. She'd gone about her daily routine and avoided contact with the rest of the town unless Henry had demanded it and that is seeming more and more tempting to Emma today. They're back at Granny's for another party devoted to Mary Margaret and they're still the enemies, but Regina bears it with snark and grace–

One of Henry's friends is staring at Regina and she snaps her jaw and her eyes bulge out. He stumbles backward and makes a mad dash for the buffet.

Maybe not grace.

Emma can feel stares prickling at the back of her neck and she pastes a smile on her face and leans back against their booth. "So, the station's all set." Regina blinks at her, nods mechanically. "What do you think they'll name the baby?" she tries.

"Are we really supposed to care?" Regina drawls, toying with her collar. "Some cumbersome princely name, I'm sure. Your mother was thinking of Leopold when we last spoke." She doesn't seem very bothered by the possibility anymore. When she'd first discussed it, back when Zelena had been her midwife and Mary Margaret had been overcome with baby fever, Regina had heard the name and stomped out of the loft.

Emma had followed, all too glad to have a reason to escape that conversation. "Lancelot? He was the knight who'd married them. Cora impersonated him back in the Enchanted Forest just after the curse."

"Did she?" Regina looks intrigued for the first time that day. "And then what?"

"Mary Margaret figured it out eventually. She was heartbroken."

"Yes, yes," Regina says impatiently. "But what about my mother? What did she do? Why didn't she kill you? By all accounts, she was certainly powerful enough to do so." Her teeth worry against her bottom lip, neck straight again and eyes on Emma with new intensity and rising hostility. "How could you have stopped her?"

Emma's taken aback by the demands. "She tried to take Mary Margaret's heart later, but I stood between them and there was this…magic…thing?" Light magic, her mind taunts her, recalling the white surge of power that had blown Cora away. Arbitrary and worthless and the only thing that might've helped them defeat Zelena. "I don't really know."

"And that's when you killed her."

"What?" She stares at Regina, befuddled. "You didn't get into the cider to get through this party, did you?" Come to think of it, Regina is a little more on edge today than usual. Or maybe that's just been all week, since they'd…broken up…or whatever this is. "I had nothing to do with that. That was all Mary Margaret."

She hadn't even known until after the fact, and she'd been horrified and uncomfortable and struck with the most unwanted urges. Because, really? Driving over to Regina's with some nice wine and trying to talk out their feelings?

It's possible these feelings for Regina might've been present before Pan's curse, now that she thinks about it. She may have overcompensated on the repression by shoving Regina even further away from them after that. "I wouldn't have…"

But Regina is already turning away from her, hand clenched against her collar. "Mary Margaret," she repeats softly, and when her teeth finally disengage from her lips, there's a streak of blood against the front of them.

Maybe she'd just been making an observation, because David is standing and tinkling a spoon against a glass and Mary Margaret is gesturing for Emma to join her. Henry has already slid into place beside her, tickling under his new baby uncle's chin.

"I should…"

"You should," Regina agrees, eyes fixed on Mary Margaret.

Emma sits opposite Mary Margaret, smile affixed to her face again. She hasn't held the baby yet and Mary Margaret hasn't offered but she sneaks a glance at him as David begins to speak about the coronation to a silenced crowd.

He's tiny, too tiny for this much turmoil, and she pushes aside all the silent resentments she can't voice when she looks at him. Whoever her parents are, whatever she won't communicate with them, her brother exists outside of it. He's innocent, he'll grow up with doting parents and a sister who loves him, and she won't allow herself to feel anything other than affection for this tiny little creature.

Henry's foot links with hers under the table, and he grins at her as David goes on. "...And we hope you can share in it as we name him for a hero. Someone who saved every one of us. We loved him and he loved back." Her brow furrows. They aren't naming their kid Henry, too, are they?

Mary Margaret says, "People of Storybrooke, it's our great joy to introduce you to our our son, Prince Neal."

There's a bout of hysterical laughter coming from somewhere nearby, wild and disbelieving and too loud, and Emma's rooted in her seat, unable to look around for the source of it like everyone else is, and Regina is laughing silently and Henry is kicking her hard and she suddenly realizes that it's her. She's the one who sounds like she's about to break in the middle of a crowd of people, all staring at her with distrust and disapproval.

She stumbles to her feet, shoves past David, and races for the door.

Belle catches her arm. "Emma, is everything–" Emma shoves her hard enough that she crashes into Mulan beside her and pushes out the door, and she skips the steps altogether, vanishes and reappears on the ground in front of them.

Neal. They'd named her brother Neal.

She imagines for a moment– "Be right over, Regina, I'm just changing Neal's diaper!"– and there's that hysterical screeching again, coming out in gasps like sobs exploding into the silence of the night and she leans down, palms against one of the outdoor tables, and laughs helplessly until tears come.

"Emma." She hasn't heard Mary Margaret's voice like this since…since she'd been Mary Margaret, low and furious the day Emma had tried to grab Henry and run from town. What the hell is wrong with you.

Then, she'd been sulky and penitent. Today she doesn't care. "Neal?" she demands, spinning around. "Neal? Why would you even…Prince Neal?" She hadn't taken stock of her feelings there, had shoved them away and buried herself in action and family and avoidance, and now there they are, front and center, bound up in the baby Mary Margaret still holds in her arms.

Mary Margaret stands her ground, raising her chin and clutching the baby closer. "We were trying to respect him. He sacrificed his life for you and this town–"

"He left me in prison!" She's breathing hard. "He left me behind and all you do is celebrate him and I…I…" Her heart is beating wildly in her chest and her magic is sparking lightning against lawn chairs and all she can think of is the utter devastation of having thrown all her life's dreams at one person and being horrifically betrayed for it. Seventeen seems so tiny when she remembers it, too young to have lost so much faith when she hadn't had any to begin with.

And he'd never come back for her until she'd bumped into him in Manhattan and he'd first seen her son. He'd cast her aside rather than to return to this world and sometimes she understands it completely. Today she would do the same. Her seventeen-year-old self still vows forever bitterness.

Mary Margaret's eyes flicker down to Emma's hands, but she raises them again with effort, sympathy washing away the hostility. "You loved him. It's okay to have loved him." She gives her a patented-Snow-White smile, tearful and compassionate and forgiving.

And Emma's magic burns brighter. "So you told me. Over and over again." The filter she's had over her thoughts is gone, stripped away as swiftly as the words our son, Prince Neal, and she clenches her fists so the blue bursts like fireworks that flash feet away from Mary Margaret. "Thank you so much for that." It's caustic and angry. "Thank you so much for letting me know it was okay to love when all I needed to know was…" Mary Margaret stares at her and she remembers Neal, Neal who wouldn't come after her because he was afraid, Neal who made her hurt every time he'd been around and she'd loved him because she had no other choice.

In one instant, she'd mourned him and she'd been able to breathe for the first time since she'd seen him again in Manhattan. She laughs and shakes her head and Mary Margaret takes an alarmed step backward. "You don't understand. You love…everyone, probably. You don't know what it means to need to hate."

Just for a little while. She'd needed it so desperately, to have the freedom to hold that grudge, to be anything but selfless and giving to the man who is- quite likely- the main reason she hadn't seen Henry until he'd been ten years old and standing outside her apartment door. She'd wanted to be angry and betrayed and instead she'd been hit with a barrage of promises, of responsibilities, of insistence on true love, and she'd never had time to resolve any of her emotions around Neal to grow into that love 'd wanted him dead by the end of that wreck because it'd been easier than coping with the emotions she'd been allowed to work with.

But there's no space in Snow White's life for ugly emotions, for resentment, for working through anger in any way but compassion and giving.

Mary Margaret blinks at her, uncomprehending. "He's gone now. And you loved him, too. What good is there in hating?" Emma clutches her fingers tight to her palms and the magic stops sparking, just surrounds her fists in a glow like a star about to go supernova. "Come back inside, Emma. This is a celebration. For us. For our family. It won't be the same without you." She's smiling like she means it, like she can gloss over all the badness and…

"And what? You want me to celebrate Neal in there?" She waves her hands at Granny's and a little blue fire nicks the corner of the roof. "You want me to go back inside and pretend this is what I wanted?" She drops her hands with a whoosh and pop of energy. "Of course you do. Because that's what we do, you and David and me. We follow the scripts you write for us and we do it with a fucking smile."

There are tears in Mary Margaret's eyes and Emma is savagely glad about it and hates herself for it at the same time. "Emma, this isn't you. We can…we can call him Baelfire, if that's–" She clutches the baby tighter. "I don't know what I've done to make you so upset!"

"Nothing. Nothing." She deflates at the agitation in Mary Margaret's tone and turns around, pressing her hands together and imagining the magic sinking back into the dark pit in her belly. "It's fine."

"It isn't!" She turns again, Mary Margaret's voice urgent behind her. "Emma, I'm your mother!"

She can feel her throat close and refuse to open, her eyes stinging as she tries to talk. "You used to be my friend." And this is another delusion, where she's seeing people as they are and refusing to acknowledge it. "Mary Margaret Blanchard was my friend and she's dead and instead I have–"

Snow White, staring at her in horror, mouth half open as she shakes her head. Snow White who tells her We go back together and It's my job to change that and talks about their family up until there are beanstalks rising and a new way to the home she wants or until it's Emma or some magical Neverland future with…

…with Baby Neal.

Snow White who put her in a wardrobe three decades ago and she hasn't been allowed to hate her for it, either, and she raises her hands to the sky in frustration and hurls the magic back out into the darkness until there are angry blue lines slashing through the night sky, pouring out like macabre fireworks over the brightly lit diner and Snow White with her baby gaping up at them.

"What's happened to you?" Snow whispers, and the baby begins to cry. It sounds like Henry in the hospital- the first time, what could have been the only time- and Emma can't stay here anymore. She takes a step forward and Snow says, voice growing in strength, "Fine. Fine, you want me to be Mary Margaret? You want me to stop pretending?"

Emma is silent, rage and dread roiling and rising like bile in her throat. Snow takes a step forward. "You were going to run away. Again. You set up shop here, you act like you'll stay…and then you check out on us." Her lip is quivering but her voice is like iron, and for the first time Emma actually believes that this Snow would have been capable of being a match against Regina. "How am I supposed to hold onto you like this? You run and you don't…you embrace this darkness…" She gestures at Emma's hands, still aflame. "And that's just running again. That's what you're doing, isn't it? I warned you in Neverland–"

She breathes in shakily. "I love you, Emma, but I don't know how to deal with you like this. I won't lose myself when hope and love are all I've ever had to offer. For you! For all of us!"

And that's where they part in bleak abandon. Because Snow refuses to see beyond hope, beyond her stubborn view of a good world, and when Emma doesn't fit into that, she doesn't know how to step past it. And Emma's spent so long struggling to reach Snow, to be enough for Snow, to be the savior and the daughter that Snow's always wanted, and this is their dynamic. Emma walking forward, Snow remaining immobile.

Emma walks forward again.

She concentrates hard until her magic fades again and she's standing just in front of her mother, only the baby between them. "Sorry, Mom. Maybe that'll be enough for Neal."

Snow's mouth falls open and Emma's feet move backward, backing away until she's at the opening to the sidewalk and she can turn and return to Regina's house, monkeys screeching above her head as she shakes with sobs she's afraid to release to the world.

xxiv. oxygenation

All set?

Henry sneaks a second peek at his phone, almost expecting a response to his message already, then looks up with a winning grin that would normally fool no one at the dinner table. But Mom is tapping her fingers against the table, bored and distracted- brooding, even, and that worries Henry quite a bit- and Ma hasn't moved much from a slump since the disaster at the naming yesterday.

Which really is a giant disaster, but Henry's got other problems right now. Problems that will hopefully solve everyone else's if all goes well. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," he announces. Ma grunts an approval.

He scampers toward the bathroom and then doubles back, climbing up the stairs as silently as he can just as his phone buzzes. She's on her way. So are we.

Operation Chameleon is a go. One anonymous tip and their diversion is all set up, and Henry feels a little guilty about using Mary Margaret like this when she and Ma are clearly having issues already, but the mission has to come first. Everything else can be fixed once Mom is…Mom again.

And anyway, someone should know about what happened with Archie. Someone who'll do something about it. Ma has been reticent at best when he's brought it up, has changed the subject and remembered patrol plans out of nowhere when he confronts her. Ma is caught up in the status quo, and the rumors still abound about her.

He grits his teeth and slips into his bedroom, pushing his doubts aside. He's going to figure what's happened to Mom and he's going to prove it to Ma, to save them both from all of this. It's up to him.

He's already climbing out his window when there's a thunk beside him and Adi and Ava and Nick are grinning up at him from the bottom of the ladder. "Quiet!" he hisses. "Mary Margaret isn't here yet!" He can see the lights of a car down the road, though, and the four of them hurry around the side of the house, dragging the ladder along.

"Tell me you brought the fairy dust." Nick had brought up the idea of magical force fields around the windows, and they'd sent out their best thief to find a workaround.

Adi dangles the vial in his hand. "Fairy dust. That Nova really needs to learn to be more careful with her wares." He snickers. "Especially around Lost Boys."

Ava snatches it from him. "Henry, you're first. I'm next. Nick, you keep watch."

"I always keep watch," Nick complains, and Adi and Ava give him dual stink eyes. He huffs in silence. Henry clambers up the ladder as the doorbell rings, then the door creaks open.

He'd turned the heat in the house all the way up the night before, and he's pleased to see that Mom had taken the bait. Her windows are open- no fairy dust needed after all- and the screens are easy to pry off. He isn't sure how he'll reattach them, but he'll probably be in much deeper trouble than just that if Mom finds out what he's up to before they're done.

But they make it inside as the sound of angry voices are rising downstairs. Mom's room looks the same as it had been before she'd changed. Neat, not spotless, though it's Mom's stuff that's lying on the floor instead of Ma's. And the old school projects she'd shown him from her dresser- reminders that he'd been her son once, even if he can't remember- have been swept to the side and replaced with what looks like a magic chemistry set. He swallows, his belief cemented yet again that this isn't Mom.

They take apart her closet and under her bed and peer through her drawers, flipping through files and pushing aside blouses and mounds of shoes until Ava says suddenly, "Oh, wow."

Henry squints at her. "Are you looking through my mom's underwear?"

"No, you idiot. Look." She points into the drawer again, slipping her hand past some dark lingerie that Henry had never needed to see, thank you very much. "Adi, get over here."

"I'm not going through the mayor's underwear, either," Adi says, wrinkling his nose.

Ava sighs heavily, reaches in, and Henry's already wincing when her hand emerges with a familiar silver dagger in it. "Are you two done being children now?"

"Yes," Henry says, staring open-mouthed. "Yes, we are."

The Dark One's dagger. From what he's gleaned of it, it's the only thing that keeps Rumplestiltskin under Zelena's control. Ma had almost stabbed him with it once, and that would have made her the Dark One. Rumplestiltskin had apologized for trying to hurt him but had had no choice when Zelena had been waving the dagger when she'd ordered him around. And Mom has it in her underwear drawer.

No. Not Mom. He holds out his hand and Ava offers the dagger to him. "Wait," he whispers. "Let me check on…"

Afraid to let go of the dagger, he edges Mom's bedroom door open and creeps out, settling down next to the top of the stairs to listen to Mary Margaret's voice. "I just think you could both do with a sabbatical," she's saying in the foyer.

"A sabbatical," Ma repeats. "While I'm trying to take down Zelena?"

"There are some concerns that you're…not going about in the way that's best for the community." Mary Margaret's voice rises in strength. "The problem here isn't that someone believes that you're allowing innocents to be hurt, it's that it isn't…it isn't a far-fetched accusation. You haven't been yourself lately, Emma. Neither of you have."

"You're firing me? Because I pissed you off?" Ma says, disbelieving.

"And what gives you this authority, Snow White?" Mom's voice is sleek and dangerous and Henry wants to warn them now, to come down the stairs waving the dagger so they know that Zelena is in control, that Mom isn't quite Mom anymore and–

Mary Margaret is taking a step back, and Henry glances around the corner down the stairs to see her face, grim and determined. "I've called for the fairies to join me here. We're going to take you into custody if you try to resist this." She softens for a moment. "Emma, I know that you couldn't have known about Regina's deputies working with Zelena. You can work with us and be reinstated in no time. You just need to–"

Not-Mom twists her wrist so a little puff of green escapes her hand and Mary Margaret topples to the ground, unconscious.

"Regina!" Ma rushes to Mary Margaret, staring up at Mom in betrayal. "Why'd you…"

"Did you have a better idea?" Mom heaves an exasperated sigh. "She's the only one standing between you and Zelena right now. We have no choice."

Ma is frozen in place, Mom waiting for an answer, and Henry's mouth is dry at the tiny smirk that blossoms at Mom's lips. Confidence, like she's already won. No, he reminds himself. No, she hasn't. She doesn't know what he knows, what he's managed to retrieve, and he squeezes the dagger in his hand and heads back to the ladder.

The others are waiting below, and Henry breathes hard. "We don't have much time. How do we summon the Dark One?" Ava shrugs. He tries waving the dagger. Nothing. He digs it into the earth. Still nothing. He stabs it into a tree frustratedly.

"Careful, boy, you'll dull the tip of it." Adi jumps back and Ava gasps. Henry turns carefully, clutching onto the dagger. Rumplestiltskin looms over him, thin-lipped and threatening. "A simple 'Dark One, I summon thee,' will suffice. Or you could just…return that dagger. I should congratulate you on liberating it from Zelena."

"My mom," Henry brandishes the dagger. Rumplestiltskin leans back. "Tell me where my mom is."

The Dark One pauses. "I can't say for sure. Zelena has been…reticent of late. She has a new project, doesn't she?" His eyes flicker toward the house. Henry can see shadowy figures exiting it, one carrying a third as they head for Ma's car.

"Do we really need a potion to wipe her memories? Can't I just…" Ma's voice trails off and she hoists Mary Margaret in her arms, laying her down across the back seat of the Bug.

"They're some very specific memories," Mom says, voice soothing. "You don't want to wipe all memory of you, do you? And you're in no state for such fine-tuned magic. I'll need ingredients for a proper potion. Down in my crypt." She climbs into the passenger seat and Ma slides into the driver's seat and slams the door with a low curse.

"Here," Rumplestiltskin says, reaching for the vial of pixie dust. "Nasty stuff, fairy dust. But I can have one of you in Regina's immediate vicinity with this amount of it." He tilts his head. "A trade, for my dagger."

Henry squints at him. "Can't I just order you to do it?"

"You could." Rumplestiltskin smiles like it's pulling teeth. "But this way, I'll owe you a favor. You'll like my favors, Henry." He looks at him with a certain amount of fondness, and Henry wonders for a moment–

"You're…you were really my dad's dad, right?"

"I was." Grief flickers across his face and Henry feels bad about controlling him at all for a moment. For a moment. He's read just as many stories about Rumplestiltskin in the book not to go soft on him now.

Still, though, it wouldn't hurt for the Dark One to owe him a favor. "Okay." He turns his hand to pass the dagger into Rumplestiltskin's and the man smiles- a real smile, exhausted but genuine, and smashes open the vial of fairy dust. And then the yard and the house fade away and he's left in darkness.

He blinks in the blackness of the room until his eyes begin to adjust and he can see indistinct shapes. A mirror behind him. A chest, a chair, a stack of books…a collection of candles. Is this the crypt Mom had talked about?

"Mom?" he whispers. "Mom, are you in here?"

No answer.

"Mom?" He picks up one of the heavy candles and reaches for a match. Mom might have magic, but he can't imagine that she wouldn't be prepared for anything. He knows her too well, memories or not, and he locates a match under a half-melted candle just as light floods the room from a stairwell he hadn't noticed.

Crap! Ma and not-Mom are here already. He doesn't have much time.

He holds onto his candle and match and looks around wildly, his hand scrabbling onto the wall right where he'd arrived just as Mom's shoes come into view on the stairs. "She's more trouble than she's worth," Mom is saying, and his fingers close around a nick in the wall. He tugs and it opens silently, just enough for him to slip in and close the door before Mom and Ma see him.

On the other side, the mirror is a window, and he can see Mom flick her hands and the candles light themselves. Ma is watching her, still cradling Mary Margaret in her arms. "She's my mother, Regina. I thought you two were on good terms now? Trading…baby stories and shit. We're not locking her up in your crypt."

"Then what now?" Mom demands. "We stand down and get locked up? We're all this town has against Zelena. They need you, Emma. They don't need Snow trying to stop you from saving them." She stretched out her hand and there's a puff of smoke and suddenly Mary Margaret is awake and locked in a golden cage in the center of the crypt, struggling to break free. Her mouth is open and her face is screwed up like she's shouting, but no words come out.

"She's my mother," Ma repeats hopelessly. "We can't do this to her. It's not just about the memories, it's about her. She's my mother," she repeats again, reaching out for the bars. Mary Margaret's eyes light onto her hands with sudden hope.

Mom slashes her hand out to catch onto Ma's, yanking her around to face her. "She killed mine!" Mom says it with so much venom that Henry and Ma both recoil. "So pardon me for wanting her to pay for it."

Ma takes a step back. "Regina, I can't…" She looks lost, uncertain, eyes flickering from Mary Margaret to Mom. Ma always has answers, always has plans, even when they're stupid and will probably get her killed. Ma never stops moving, never stops pushing forward even when Henry begs to slow down, not until right now, when she looks torn and in agony.

Mary Margaret is reaching for her, mouth moving silently, and Mom laughs coldly. "I thought you were interested in the greater good, Emma. And really…" She stalks closer, running her fingers along Ma's cheek until she has her fingers curled around her chin in a simulacrum of gentleness. "Do you think Snow's ever going to forgive you for all the things you've done? When she sees the monster you've become?"

She seems almost reflective for a moment, as though she's drawing these words from deep within. Ma is shaking, eyes narrowed and hands clenched, but she doesn't pull away. "And it wasn't me. It wasn't Zelena who brought you to this." Mom's smile is the most malicious Henry's ever seen it, and for a moment he can imagine the Evil Queen, dark and soulless.

Except this isn't Mom at all.

"A few buttons pushed and you're already a vigilante," Mom murmurs, the faux-gentleness in her voice familiar and less and less like Mom with every button she pushes. "Already fighting for whatever justice you've decided on." Her thumb strokes circles on Ma's cheek. "And now you're just like me. Wicked to the core."

Ma pulls away, jolting out of her reverie. "Regina, I don't know what you're trying to accomplish here–"

Mom laughs, high and manic and it crawls down the back of Henry's neck like a memory of the night Walsh had taken him. "Regina, Regina, Regina. Are we still on that fantasy?" She leans back against the golden bars and Mary Margaret slaps at her ineffectually, her blows glancing off the side of the cage as though she can't break through its walls. "You know who I am, pet. You've known all along. How much longer are we going to continue the happy delusion?"

Ma stares at Mom- not Mom, Zelena, and Henry's known it all along- like she's in pain, like she's being pulled in a dozen different directions at once and there's no safety to cling to- and Henry's hand is on the doorknob before he can think about it. "Please," Ma whispers. "Please don't…" She shuts her eyes. "This can't be real. None of this is…what am I?"

"I didn't have to do a thing," Zelena whispers silkily, and she's an alien with Mom's face and Henry remembers Mom before he can turn the doorknob. He scrapes the match against the wall beside him, struggling to light the candle, but instead his hand hits a switch and a dozen wall lamps and chandeliers turn on, lighting up the room around him.

He gapes around at the opulently decorated white walls, at the mirrors that dot the room and at the dresses on stands and at the comfy couches, and at the center of the room, where Mom lies on a flat couch, still as though in death.

"Mom," he whispers in a sob, hurrying to her. "Mom, oh god." He'd thought about cages like the one that Mary Margaret is in, had thought about her heart locked in a box like the Huntsman's had been, had imagined a dozen different ways that Mom would be held captive. He'd never allowed himself to imagine that she'd be gone for real, and his heart shatters in devastation.

No, he reminds himself. You're in a fairytale, Henry. This isn't how it ends. He knows the story of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. And so the Evil Queen gave Snow White a poisoned apple and she fell into a deep sleep that only true love's kiss could wake.

True love's kiss. And Ma is just outside this room.

She can do it, can save all of them, he knows it. Whatever Zelena is doing to them now, it can't last. Mom is a part of them. He loves her now as much without his memories as he's sure he'd loved her with them, and he knows that Ma loves her, too. With Mom, they'll be unstoppable.

"I'm…uh…" He worries his hands against the ends of his shirt. "I'll be right back, okay?" He feels silly speaking to her like this and even sillier when he whispers, "I love you," loud in the silent room, but warmth rises through him anyway, certainty that it's going to be okay. He leans over and brushes a kiss to her forehead before he can go face off against Zelena.

Magic blows back against him at the moment that his lips touch Mom's forehead and his eyes fly open in shock and suddenly he's blown away with a billion realizations at once, a billion memories of her as Mom, of being held in her arms and hanging onto her hand on the first day of school and being wrapped in her embrace as Pan's curse had threatened to overwhelm them. And the warmth he'd felt before is nothing compared to loving her now, past and present and Mom, Mom, Mom! He feels as though an entire world has opened up within him, everything that had felt wrong righted again, and he's at the center of it with only one person. "Mom!" he breathes, and her eyes fly open.

"Henry? Henry!" Mom is laughing and sitting up to pull him close and she must see the recognition in his eyes behind the tears. "Oh, Henry," she murmurs, kissing the top of his head. "You broke another curse." She kisses him again and he melts into her arms and it's never felt more right and he wants to bubble up with all the joy he can feel in the room around him. "You saved me. You loved me." She sounds dazed at the realization, wondering, and he tightens his hold on her.

There's a shriek from somewhere beyond the room and Mom looks up sharply, their reunion forgotten. "Zelena. She must have felt the effects of the curse breaking."

"You can stop her, right?" Oh wow, he can feel the new confidence, the absolute trust in Mom and Ma that had been wavering without his memories. He knows that Mom and Ma beat the bad guys, that good always defeats evil, that Ma is going to slide right back into her old self now (Holy crap, Mom and Ma are dating? says the part of him that's still piecing together Henry-who-was with Henry-who-is) and they're going to kick Zelena's butt.

"Last year…" Mom frowns. "Only light magic can destroy Zelena's power source. Your grandparents cast this curse to find Emma again." She closes her eyes, bowing her head. "But Emma doesn't have much light magic to her right now, either. If we'd only known…"

"Who did this?" Zelena is shouting from the other side of the mirror. Ma is standing between her and Mary Margaret's cage, very pale. Zelena turns to look into the mirror, and suddenly Henry feels a shiver pass through him as realization dawns in her eyes. "Regina," she snarls, and Ma makes a grab for her as she charges forward.

And another realization dawns in his. "You have light magic, Mom. There was just light magic all around us!"

Mom shakes her head. "From you, Henry. All I have is my love for you."

"So use it." He pulls away from her as the door flies open and Mom stands up, tucking him behind her protectively. "You're a hero, Mom. I believe in you."

And then there's Zelena striding into the room, still looking exactly like Mom, with Ma trailing behind her. Ma takes in a sharp breath at the sight of them in the secret room, the real Mom and him in front of the couch, and Zelena laughs gaily. "Morning, sunshine."

"High-waisted pants? Really?" Mom arches her eyebrows. "If you're trying to be me, you're going to have to stop shopping in the section of my closet left over from the eighties."

Zelena's face turns thunderous. Mom rises into the air like a puppet, gasping for air, and Ma starts forward. With a single blast of Zelena's magic, she's blown across the room. "Did you think this would change anything? Only light magic can harm me, and you're as dark as they come," Zelena snarls, stepping forward toward Mom.

Her eyes are fixed on Mom, and Henry scurries away to Ma, helping her up. "Are you okay?"

"I'm…Henry." She stares at him like he's a stranger. "You remember."

"Yeah." He smiles at her, and a lot of the resentment drains away just like that. Not all of it. But Ma's been through a lot of crap lately and Zelena's been screwing with her mind and he thinks that maybe she needs someone on her side right now. "I love you."

"We need to…" She struggles forward again.

Zelena ignores her, eyes fixed on Mom. "It was your destiny to be this way. And it will also be your undoing!" she snaps, clenching her hand together into a fist as Mom chokes.

Her hand strains to clamp together but it halts in midair, shaking, and Mom wrenches out, "Don't…tell me…what I can be!" And she looks to them both for only a moment before white magic is exploding out of her hands, crashing into Zelena and sending her flying into the stairwell on the other side of the crypt. Green smoke flies up around the witch, the illusion of Mom gone and replaced with Zelena again.

Mom drops her hands, breathing hard as she stalks after Zelena. "I make my own destiny," she says, yanking her green gem from her cloak, and Zelena explodes with magic that oozes out of her and fades away into the air. Mom turns for a moment and Henry and Ma follow her into the dark front room of the crypt. "Look at that," Mom says, waving her hands around the golden bars that hold Gram captive. "Someone finally put you in a gilded cage." The bars fall and disappear in a shower of gold sparks.

Gram sobs with relief, burying herself in Mom's arms, and Mom sighs and rolls her eyes but holds her tight anyway.

Ma moves.

Henry doesn't have a moment to process before Ma is lunging forward, grabbing Zelena by the scruff of her neck and shoving her against the side of the crypt, the heel of her hand pressed into Zelena's throat as the witch struggles.

"Emma!" Gram whimpers, and Mom seizes Ma and yanks her off of Zelena so Zelena slides back down to the floor, angry and helpless with a baleful glare as they all stand over her.

Ma is breathing hard. "Stop it. You don't know what she…what I…" She shakes her head, and Henry's horrified to see tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "I need to kill her. She's evil, Regina."

"Yes." Mom's face is suddenly pleading, her fingers sliding up and down Ma's arms. "But she's my sister." She sounds as uncertain as Ma had earlier, She's my mother, the tension that laces the words barely concealing a sliver of hope.

Ma is crying now, really crying, and Henry hasn't seen her like this since Pan's curse, when all hope had been lost and she'd leaned into Gram's touch and held onto Mom's hand like they had been her only safe places in the world. Mom leans forward, pressing her forehead against Ma's. "We don't kill, Emma. You didn't kill me, remember?"

"Emma…" Gram whispers again, staring wide-eyed at the two of them, and Ma whirls around and flees up the steps of the crypt.

xxiii ii. damnation

She's running through the cemetery, tripping over stones and picking herself up again and she has no idea where she's going except away. Away from three of the people she loves most in the world staring at her like she's a stranger, away from Zelena's biting accusations- the monster you've become, the monster you've become, the monster you've become- and the awareness that she'd devoted–

She stumbles forward into a tree and scrapes her palms against it as she laughs, weepy little jerks of mirth that tremble through her body. She'd devoted all she is to Zelena's destruction and instead she'd fallen for her lies, hook, line, and sinker, and done nothing but watch at the pivotal moment. It had been Regina's fight all along, and she'd co-opted it for…for…

Happy delusion.

Her fingers itch with the magic that had left her when confronted by Zelena, itch with the need to strike at someone, to hurt as she's been totally swept away today. This can't be the end of her fight, Zelena gone and Regina the hero and nothing for Emma to show for it. Henry! Henry had been there, had seen her…had he seen Zelena taunting her? Did he know what she'd–

She heaves herself forward and lands on soft purple moss.

The garden. Of course she'd run to the garden. She buries her face in grass that smells like Regina still, flat on the ground as her magic flows around her, and she can feel the oppressive heat of it as it scorches into the earth and burns away the scent of lavender and apples and cinnamon from around them.

All she wants is for this to be her pyre, to be taken away as swiftly as the garden, to finally flee just as her mother and Henry had both accused her of doing. There's no coming back from this. She thinks of the dwarves and Archie and even Spencer and wary faces following her around Granny's and she's done, she's burned all bridges here and there's no one who would run with her anymore.

Regina is a hero tonight and she's…the villain? The one who's thrown the town into disarray, who'd willingly worked with the bad guys and never questioned it. And yeah, maybe deep down she'd known exactly what she was doing. She'd known something was wrong and hadn't cared because she'd been uncontrolled, unfettered by the morality she's lived by until now.

There are no victories for the villain, she thinks, and then there's a shout from somewhere above her and slow certainty oozes through her veins like cool liquid. "You're on fire! Sheriff–" Robin Hood is calling, and she stands up, one victory still hers for the night.

"I know you were working with Zelena," she says, and her magic rises with the tone of her voice. She's back in control, the night seized from her but one final target washed in with the tide.

Robin looks confused. "I…what?"

"She's gone now." Emma smiles blandly. "Defeated. Now it's just you left."

She strikes hard, magic exploding from her as she launches her attack at him, blasting him with blue fire that scorches and burns at his skin and he's screaming and it feels so empty. There's none of the satisfaction of before, none of the energy that had galvanized her against Zelena, just grim desire to punish that will never find its mark.

She's tied so much of her self-worth into the pursuit of Zelena that without it, she can't even find what little self she has left, and she stares at blue fire blankly as it burns at Robin Hood's skin.

And then there are hands on her wrists, pulling her back, and an urgent voice behind her is calling, "Stop it! You're killing him!"and their garden is gone but Regina is still there, still hanging onto her, and she wants to laugh at another piece of them destroyed.

"He's working with Zelena!"

"No, he isn't!" Regina snaps at her with the wealth of a year of memories she's only just regained. "He has a son, Emma! He's a father! You're killing him!" Her fingers reach at Emma's hands, her voice urgent and trembling. "He has a son!"

She holds onto Emma and Emma scrambles for the evidence that had piled up, suspicions with strong basis, and all she can think of is Regina informing her that he'd once been her soulmate. All she can remember is blinding jealousy and nothing that had justified any of this and she drops her hands and Robin Hood staggers backward and falls, his skin bubbling hot with blisters and bloody gouges, and she's... the monster you've become.

She thinks about her mother, whirling around above her in a maelstrom of her fury. Of Henry's eyes glazing over as she wipes the peskiest memories away. Of Granny tied to a chair and Archie being tugged over the town line and how easy it had been to pull out Walsh's heart and crush it. And Robin Hood on the ground as Regina hurries to him with hands flooding white magic as she struggles to undo the darkness Emma had wrought.

She calls on the magic that had corrupted her, beckons it forth and commands it with all she has. Destroy. And she feels her body erupt in pain as she manages to defeat the only villain still on the loose tonight.

There's an anguished cry as hands press to her skin, cool within a furnace, and Emma shudders.

A necessary addendum: I am not fond of canon Robin Hood right now, but at the time that this part of the fic was plotted (months ago), I was rather neutral on him. I chose him to be Emma's only ~innocent victim~ specifically because of that, because I needed someone who wasn't fully integrated into the story but someone who I didn't hate, because I want to be an objective writer as much as possible. (Hook would have been a good option, too, but I knew I couldn't trust myself to write something like this without letting my biases come into play, so I chose to go in this direction.) So this is mostly to assure all of you that this wasn't a malicious plot point, I didn't do this because of his canon relationship with Regina, I did it only because it was necessary to the story and it is by no means anything but a failure on Emma's part (and an important one!).

I know most of you probably don't care either way, but I just wanted to get that out there. :)