Title: Find a Way
Rating: M
Pairing: Emma/Regina
Show/Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Warnings: —
Here's a disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own anything but the writing. This is just for fun.
Summary: Emma had been left behind in Neverland, thought to be dead by those closest to her. Gaining an ally in the form of a spitfire fairy, she will stop at nothing to protect a certain little someone from Peter Pan, whose true motives are unraveling, and find a way home to Henry, to her parents. And to her True Love with whom the certain little someone has a connection with.

CHAPTER TWO

Regina woke to the feeling of eyes on her. Her room, bathed in nothing but darkness save for the soft glow drifting in from the street lamps outside, felt eerily cold - a foreboding feeling in the air. Instantly she turned her head to the side, seeking out what had pulled her from her sleep in the first place.

The door to her bedroom was ajar and she could just about make out a figure standing there. Well, she thought, there was only one person that could be. "Henry?" She called out softly but the figure by her door retreated, the sounds of footsteps padding away in the distance.

She removed herself from the bed immediately, feeling somewhat panicked. It just didn't feel right and a part of her—her maternal instinct—screamed at her to follow and seek out her son.

"Henry?" She tried again, this time as she stepped into the hall, but it wasn't how she remembered. It was all skewed, narrow and long and seemingly never-ending. She swallowed, squinted, and touched upon the wall briefly as if to steady herself.

At the end of the hallway stood the figure but she couldn't make him out, he was hiding in the shadows. She needed to get closer. So she took a step and then another and then another. She began to approach him slowly, tentatively and almost warily.

Finally, she reached him. "Henry, sweetheart," she spoke softly and held out her hand to touch his shoulder. Only when she did, the shadows disappeared, and the boy standing there was not her son.

He was younger than Henry, around four or five, she deduced. He wore a pyjamas in the purest of white, the sleeves long and his feet bare. She looked at him from head to toe and toe to head and set her eyes on his hair. What she assumed had once been a dark brown had lightened into sandy blond and his eyes, a pool of brilliant blue, stared at her—pleading.

Regina didn't know why but she felt a pull to the child. He needed her and she needed to protect him. It was such an intense rush that her eyes widened at the response he had evoked from her.

Questions swam in her mind. Who was he? What did he want? Why was he in her house?

His voice, small and soft, pulled her from her chaotic train of thoughts.

"I need your help."

The boy stared up at her and stood as though a weight had been placed upon his shoulders. She got a sense that he was strong, powerful even. But so small and fragile that her heart clenched and she felt the need to sweep him up off his feet and into her arms to shield him from the burdens he held.

"I need your help," he repeated and she swore she heard his voice echo. But maybe it was the hallway, its shape seemed to change every few seconds. He continued to stare up at her eyes and his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, watered. "Please, Mama."

That got her undivided attention and her eyes focused on him like lasers to a point. "Excuse me?" She questioned so quickly, so rushed, that her voice sounded hoarse. Like gravel under thick boots.

The child held out his hand expectantly. A tear had slipped from his eye and now cascaded down his cheek. It looked like a crystal, she thought. And he looked angelic, the most beautiful thing she had ever laid her eyes upon. He was shaking, she realised.

He was scared.

So she took his hand because she felt like she needed to.

"I don't want to live in the darkness. Please don't make me." He pleaded with her. She gripped his hand tighter with a sense of urgency washing over her. "Don't let Him take me."

"Who?" She questioned without a second thought. She crouched down to be at level with him and not once did she release his hand, not once did she remove their physical contact. "Who wants to take you?"

The lights in the hall flickered, rattling and shaking like a warning. The boy looked alarmed and began to pull her down the hall, away from whatever the hell had him so spooked. Regina stood and followed him without question, like she was in some kind of daze or dream.

"He's coming!" The boy shouted and she narrowed her brow. Since when the hell did it sound like she was in the middle of a storm? The walls cracked around her, the light bulbs burst and the panic arose in her so quickly, resulting in the thumping of her heart as the boy came to an abrupt stop.

"I'm sorry," he told her, "but you need to wake up now."

A piercing cry sounded behind her. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. She snapped her head around to see if she could see what it was but nothing came into view. Nothing but the disintegrating walls and raining glass shards.

"Wake up, what—?" she turned back to face the boy, but he was gone.

And suddenly she was waking up in her bed with a gasp, sitting upright with sweat covering her body and her heart beating rapidly within her chest. She flicked her eyes around the room, threw the covers off and ran into the hall. It was just as she had left it but as one thought came to mind, she paled.

Henry.

As soon as she was at his room, she was opening the door.

Relief washed over her as she saw him in his bed, sound asleep and safe. She then allowed herself a moment to breathe as she placed her head against his door, watched him for a moment, and then stepped back into the hall with his door making a click as she closed it behind her.

She never did fall back to sleep after that and as soon as she dropped Henry off at school that morning, she went to visit Mr. Gold.

The bell rang as she entered the shop at 8:23am. She ignored the 'closed' sign and used a wave of her hand to unlock the door. Rumpel was around, she knew it—he basically lived in his precious shop. And as if on cue, the tapping of his cane was heard as he emerged from the back room.

"Ah, Your Majesty," she rolled her eyes at what had used to be her title but hadn't been for a very long time. "I do believe the sign said closed and the door was locked."

While he moved to situate himself behind the counter, she approached and laid her palms flat down on the glass. "I had a dream."

The man's lips twisted in amusement. "If you're referring to the infamous speech, then I do believe it is have, dearie."

God, she almost growled. "Cut the crap, Rumpel." Though her words were sharp and acerbic, he could see the urgency in her eyes. The panic, the confusion. His curiosity peaked, he nodded for her to continue. "I had a dream," she repeated. "There was a boy, he was young. He asked for my help."

Moments passing and Regina not having said anything else, Gold tapped his cane. "I don't have all day."

"He—" Regina exhaled, her shoulders sagging. Then she lifted her chin confidently and almost smiled. "He called me Mama and there was… something about him. He needed help, he said he didn't want to live in the darkness and that he didn't want Him to take him."

Gold listened intently. He was coming to realise that it wasn't some average dream, it certainly didn't sound like one. Any and all amusement left his features as Regina continued.

"I tried to help him but it was as if a storm was approaching. He said that He was coming and then he apologised to me and told me that I needed to wake up. I took my eyes off of him for a split second and when I turned back, he—" she exhaled a breath, "was gone."

"Then you woke up." Gold murmured as Regina nodded in confirmation.

"So?" She pressed, awaiting answers.

"Well, from what you've told me, it seems as though this child is reaching out to you."

"He's real?" She looked at him like he sported two heads. "That's ridiculous, it was but a dream."

Gold smirked. "Then why come here to tell me about it?" Regina stilled, no answer or quick retort on the tip of her tongue. "It appears that this child chose you, has bonded with you. You two, how do I put this," he waved a hand in the air, "have a connection."

Regina followed the man as he walked, aided by his cane, into the back room.

"I don't even know him!" She exclaimed, finding a connection to be impossible when she had never even met the child to begin with. Still, the nagging feeling of familiarity and duty pulled at her. Did she know him?

As she pondered this question, it seemed that Gold had the same idea. He removed a book from a shelf, old and worn, looking much like her mother's book of spells. "Are you sure about that?" He held out the book but she was hesitant to accept it. He chuckled. "Don't worry, my dear, this one's on me."

"There's always a price with you," she sneered, not for a moment believing his words. And why should she? Sure, they weren't at each other's throats anymore but he would always be the man that corrupted her mother and then her. He had been her catalyst, in every sense of the word.

"True," he agreed, "but let's just say I'm curious."

After a moment of hard stares, Regina accepted the book and turned to leave.

"I do hope you find what you're looking for." He called after her and as soon as he heard the bell chiming, swallowed and lifted his cane.

He unscrewed the top to remove a key and curled his fingers around it as it laid in his palm and decided to close the shop for the day.

Henry was sitting with Neal and Mulan in the middle booth at Granny's when Regina arrived, bell signalling her arrival, at 5pm. A few heads turned, nothing fancy, and Henry smiled at her gently and she gave a genuine one in return as she moved to join them.

After school Henry had went to his usual session with Dr. Hopper—more frequent as of late, having just hit the one year anniversary mark of Emma's death—and after that he had been collected by his dad and his girlfriend for dinner at the diner.

Regina sat down beside Henry in the booth and offered an apologetic, ever the politician, smile to the trio. "Sorry I'm late."

"Ah, no worries." Neal waved her off as he tapped his fingers against the menu he held. "Someone couldn't seem to figure out what they wanted anyway."

At that, both men at the table chuckled at the expense of Mulan.

"Boys." Regina and Mulan said in unison.

Regina had found that she quite liked Neal and Mulan's presence. Granted, she still wasn't fond of the man—she liked Mulan the best out of the pair—but for the sake of Henry, she had agreed to get along with him.

When he had returned from the Enchanted Forest, Robin Hood and Mulan in tow, he had been informed of Emma's death and had been devastated. After that Regina couldn't find it in her to be needlessly cruel to the man when she too had loved Emma Swan.

A lot had changed in a year, actually. She was no longer seen as the Evil Queen, not since saving Storybrooke from the trigger and returning from Neverland with a truce with the Charmings. No need for any more death, they had agreed. The for Emma was unspoken, but there.

That didn't mean that she and Snow braided each other's hair and talked about boys, but they were civil and there was absolutely no heart ripping. They all—Regina, Snow, David, Neal, and even Rumpel—banded together for the sake of Henry. He had been in a fragile state during his kidnapping, his sense of blind faith and belief rattled to the point where he questioned it. Coupled with Emma's death and Regina had him back seeing Archie, with the boy agreeing this time around; he needed it.

The last of the Neverland crew, Hook, had left in his ship a mere week after returning to Maine. There was nothing for him there, he said as much, and Regina knew that Emma's death had affected him too. She had thanked him for his help and told him there was always room for him in Storybrooke should he choose to return. He had ruffled Henry's hair, smirked at his mother, and then sailed away with the brunettes watching him until he disappeared into the horizon.

Accepting the menu Mulan offered her, Regina nodded in thanks. "So, Henry, how was your session?"

"Yes, you should tell us all about it." Mulan encouraged, her eyes warm and welcoming.

While Henry relayed the events of his session with Archie and even his day at school, they ordered their meal. Burgers and fries for father and son, lasagna for Regina, and soup and a sandwich for Mulan. Henry got hot chocolate, Neal a beer, while the women had water.

They were in the middle of the meal when Regina raised her glass of water to take a sip and noticed her fingertips glowing a powerful blue. It took her by surprise and she gasped, but luckily she kept her grip and didn't drop the glass.

"Mom?" Henry turned his head and saw what she was looking at. His eyes narrowed. "What is that? Are you using magic?"

"I—I…" she stuttered, shaking her head from side to side. "No, Henry, I—"

Henry looked at her expectantly whereas Neal looked uncomfortable and Mulan watched in something close to fascination.

Finally, Regina spoke, her jaw set. "I'm not doing that."

Dinner had been an awkward affair after Regina's glowing fingers had made an appearance. She still didn't know what to make of it. Not only was her magic not blue, but she hadn't conjured it or willed it. It didn't belong to her, that much she knew, and honestly, it unnerved her.

Having promised to Henry, and in front of Neal and Mulan too, that she would figure out what had caused it, she currently rifled through her mother's spell book. It was a little after 10pm and Henry had went to bed not long ago, needing to be at the school early for a class project.

Regina, alone, sat in the middle of her study, the fire crackling in the fireplace and a glass of cider in hand as she looked through page after page—dozens of other books and papers scattered around her form. Not only did she need to get to the bottom of the magic, but her dream was on her mind too.

Mama, the boy had said. He had referred to her as his mother and while she knew that was impossible, Henry was her only child, she had felt drawn to him anyway.

In the end she had come up empty and after having four glasses of cider, she wasn't particularly up for going over the books yet again. She doubted she would get an answer from them anyway. As she placed the spell book into the cabinet and locked it with the key, she remembered the other book—the one Gold had given her. She had forgotten all about it.

Regina ended up on the couch with legs tucked under her body as she opened the book Gold had given her only that morning. She read each page closely and came to one halfway through that made her jaw set tightly.

The picture depicted was a shadow, eyes bright and stature imposing. Neverland was referenced next to it and she decided she didn't want to read any further, that she didn't want to relive that part of her life. It was a closed chapter in her life and she didn't need to revisit it.

Exhaling, she stood and brushed the creases out of her dress. She decided to call it a night and turned out the lights, walking the winding staircase to her bedroom.

Unknown to her, back downstairs, the book flipped open and landed on the page about Neverland.

They had been awake for some hours already and the sun had barely been up in the sky. They walked through the jungle, feet trudging on unforgiving floor, when Tink snapped to attention.

"What?" Emma asked, predicting the worst. And as she listened out, to the sound of what she knew to be the Lost One's approaching, she looked at Tink with wide eyes. "How?"

Tink shook her head drastically. Not only did the Lost Ones never come around to this part of the island, they had no way of knowing they were there. They hadn't used magic as they knew that doing so would alert both the Lost Ones and Pan himself.

"Did you use magic?" She asked Emma because turning into a smaller version of her fairy self didn't exactly count as magic.

"No, I didn't. I—" Emma paused, realisation washing over her face in that way it tended to do. She lowered her gaze to Sawyer who was awake but content, staring back up at her with big blue eyes. It was like a silent communication and Emma swallowed thickly.

She looked back up at Tink. "I didn't," she reiterated firmly. "But he did."