People came pouring out of the stores and restaurants like ants, jogging into the middle of the road. Haggard murmurs quickly became disturbed chattering as more and more spectators came across their dead leader. Audible gasps and cries of fright rippled through the masses; hands flew to chests and eyes were averted. Emma was the first to arrive at Regina's side and swept her into her arms, cradling the woman's lifeless vessel. Regina— the one who was witnessing it all— opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Her vocal chords vibrated as if she were screaming at the top of her lungs, but she heard nothing, and neither did anyone else.
"What did you do?!" Emma shot at the enemy, who would hardly contain her own glee. The ground was wet and cold from the never-ending showers that nature presented them with. It was still drizzling just a bit and light drops fell on everyone but on the real Regina. All that Emma felt was the weight of the woman she loved in her embrace.
Charming held Henry back, away from the center of the circle the town had created. In its center were the three adult women, and there was no way David was going to let his grandson any nearer to the British beast. Rumplestiltskin was on Zelena's heels like an obedient dog, though his own face expressed real sorrow at the loss of his former student. Everyone stood in horror and everyone was equally as terrified of Zelena. If the Wicked Witch had the power to bring down Regina, how the hell could they fight her?
Crouching by the bittersweet moment of pity, Zelena moved pat Regina's head and was reciprocated with a slap from Emma. The blonde karate chopped the Witch's arm and all but growled at the sneering woman. The pure agony in Emma's green eyes, the tears dripped onto her chest, and the trembling of her dimpled-chin all incited genuine fear in Regina. She had never felt so helpless in her entire life, including Daniel's death.
"Exactly what I told her I would," Zelena finally answered, after rising to her full height and smiling at the crowd that had assembled around her. She reveled in the citizens' petrified states and hoped beyond hope they were quaking in their boots— as they should be. Zelena did so love a good audience, and even more, a good plot twist. "Your Evil Queen is no more," she announced happily. "Long live the Wicked Witch."
"Regina? It's me. Regina!" An earth-stopping hammering shook Regina awake the next morning, though she hadn't exactly been asleep; not with that nightmare replaying over and over again. Her satin sheets and feather-filled comforter had all been kicked off and twisted on the other half of the bed, her pillow had sweat stains, and the mayor panted heavier than someone who'd just finished a triathlon. What should have been a calm night's rest before a big battle ended up being just the opposite: stressful and grim. "Are you ok in there?" Emma's uneasy tone seeped through the keyhole, traveled over the carpet, and up the side of the mattress until it reached Regina's pre-installed listening devices.
"I'm fine!" she called back in a hoarse voice, this time without a doubt that sound came out. Slowly, Regina put herself into sitting position, propped her cushions up behind her, and rested her back against the plush objects. Her neck was sore, as if she'd slept on it wrong the entire night; she could turn it from side to side, but anything further felt like she'd strained a muscle.
Eventually, Emma gave up and tended to Henry, who was already mucking about the house. Hell, the entire town was awake. It was already half past noon. Granny's had been opened since eight, Snow and Charming had finished setting up their baby's crib and mobile, and Hook had been sober for almost 24 hours. It was a new day, and for many people, it would remain as normal as ever… until eight o'clock. Few residents knew of the looming clash that would take place later that night.
Once she'd stretched and yawned, wiped the sand from her eyes and washed her face, Regina finally saw the time on the clock that sat on her nightstand and flew out of her room; still in her silk nightclothes, she darted down the winding staircase with a mouthful of chastisements for the blonde woman. "Emma Swan!" she roared, the vein in her forehead bulged out until it was its own entity. She found the Savior and her son in the kitchen together; Emma was getting coffee ready and the Henry was sitting at the table with his travel-size video game. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?!" the Queen demanded.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was your alarm clock," Emma said bleakly.
"I've missed out on valuable time!" Regina wailed. "Do you want me to win this or not?!"
"Hey, why is this my fault?" the sheriff countered defensively. "Jesus, it's not like I cut the wire to your timer. 'Sides, I was just at your door, wasn't I?"
"Three hours too late," the mayor huffed, her shoulder-length hair covering her eyes.
"My God, is this what you're like before coffee?" Emma searched for two even-sized mugs and poured a jet-black liquid into both. If Henry didn't know better, he'd say it was tar, not coffee. Dumping two spoonfuls of milk and two spoonfuls of sugar in each, Emma carried one and offered it to the hysterical brunette. Regina, fairly insulted at the woman's dismissal, pouted and refused to accept the cup at first. "Seriously? And you thought I was immature?"
"I never said—" Lowering her voice, Regina exhaled loudly. "I never you were immature," she mumbled.
"No, but I could tell. Now take this, drink it, and chill out," Emma instructed. "Please."
Reluctantly, Regina grabbed the clay mug and sat in her usual spot. After a few sips, and once the caffeine began to kick in, she peered apologetically at Henry. "Strike two for Regina, I suppose."
"Nah, I'd say that was a ball," Henry chided as he turned off his device.
"So, you wanna tell us why you look like you've seen your mother's ghost?" Emma asked as she pulled out a chair next to Henry. It was a long shot to get Regina to open up in front of the both of them, but Emma figured she'd at least try. She knew from the moment she heard whimpering in Regina's room, something wasn't right. And, judging by how many times she had to bang on the door before she got a response, Emma came to the conclusion it had to have been a bad dream or something. Totally out of it, Regina's focus was glued to the rising steam of the hot beverage. She wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. Emma sent a high-pitched whistle in Regina's direction and waved in front of her. "Hey, you there?"
Gradually emerging from her disorientated mindset, Regina shifted in her seat. "It's nothing, I'm fine," she said, tight-lipped. At Henry and Emma's unconvinced glances, she repeated herself with more oomf. "I'm fine."
"Right," said Emma. "Since you're 'fine' and all, maybe we should get things figured out. I talked to David and he and Hook are gonna warn the rest of the town to stay inside tonight. Hopefully, the Witch doesn't really care if a ton of people are watching." At the mention of Zelena's, Regina turned whiter than fresh-fallen snow. "Are you sure you're ok?"
"Continue," Madame Mayor commanded drearily.
"Um, ok… So, David's gonna see if some of these Merry Men guys can help make sure everyone's safe. Hook, if he hasn't already burned all his bridges here, is going to see who's willing to board people, you know, if they don't get home in time."
"That's who he is!" Henry exclaimed. "Killian is Captain Hook! That explains his, uh, hand thing… Oh, sorry," he added when he realized he'd said it out loud.
Emma ruffled his brown hair maternally and went on as if there hadn't been an interruption. "We'll all be in Gold's shop. It's got the best view of the street, so we'll know the moment anything goes wrong. I guess that's it. Anything we missed or you can think of?"
Regina let everyone settle into her consciousness and drummed her fingers on the table top. "Well, I do believe you've covered everything. There is one request I have to make, though." With the image of both Henry and Emma's caring eyes engrained in her memory, Regina set her drink down and folded her hands together. "Until tonight… I- I would like to ask that I have some time alone. You two are free to stay here, if you wish, but I need to be by myself for a while. I trust you won't tell anyone where I am?" she asked Emma specifically.
"Did we do something to upset you?" Henry questioned shyly.
"No! Of course not!" Regina assured. Wishing she could hold his hand, she tightened her grip on her own. "Neither of you did anything, I promise. This, Henry, is much bigger than us— than all of us. I'm sorry that you came back to this mess. It's not how I would've wanted it to happen, but I'm glad you're here." Sliding out of her chair and onto the floor, Regina knelt before her son. "Henry, can you promise me something? Promise me that you will be smart tonight. If I had it my way, you wouldn't be within 100 miles of Zelena, but I know that you'll be safe with Emma and your grandparents. Even if you don't remember me or how much I love you, please… please promise me that you will listen to them." Although he was slightly taken aback by such a serious appeal, Henry nodded obediently. He helped his mother to her feet and watched as she walked over to Emma. He suddenly felt like he should be anywhere but there, invading their space.
"You do what you need to do," Emma said, not wanting to believe that Regina was saying her preventative goodbyes right now. "We'll see you at eight."
It was a glorious day for Zelena. The storm clouds had disappeared from sight, the sun was shining brightly over the land, and she would finally get her revenge. Every wrong she'd endured, every cruel word she'd received, and every minute of training she'd gone through had all lead up to this: Regina was going to know what it felt like to be robbed of the life she could have had. And there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.
Because she wanted to hear her thoughts, and her thoughts only, Zelena had tied a handkerchief over Rumplestiltskin's mouth. The frail man was slumped forward in his chains; dark blotches of blood oozed through his ripped shirt from where the rusted metal cut into his flesh. His long, scraggly hair had dirt encrusted in various spots and several strands were knotted together in impossible clumps. His cheeks were sunken in from the little sustenance he'd gotten during his time with Zelena; while she fed him twice a day, it was only left-overs from what she found at Granny's. Gold wasn't worth the effort to make a fresh meal.
Mentally counting down the hours to the very second, Zelena spent her morning picking out the right outfit. Her wardrobe from the Enchanted Forest was nowhere to be seen, but the black garbs she'd come across were quite all right. This world's fine cotton and slim-fitting cloaks were similar to what she'd had back home, but a tad nicer. It was an added bonus that none of these articles of clothing had any remnants of her old life— the one she had been condemned to. Standing on three-inch, glossy black heels, with black stockings, Zelena never felt more at ease. For most of the people in town, the color was a bad omen. However, for Zelena, it was her lucky tone.
After filing her nails and adding another coat of Kelly green to them, Zelena decided it was time to groom her mentor. She shimmied the cloth out of his mouth and let him snarl all he wanted. "This won't do," she said as she made a sickening "tsk" sound with her tongue. She used the dagger to lift Gold's chin and turned it from side to side. "No, what you need is more than a shave, Dark One. How about…" Zelena snapped her fingers and in a cloud of green vapor, Gold went from wearing rags and an overgrown five o'clock shadow, to a sleek, black suit with a gold-colored tie. His scruff was gone and all that remained was smooth skin; the tangles in his hair had been combed out and his graying mane had never looked so clean. As she played with his knife, the Witch grinned, pleased with his new image. "Now that is what I call a wizard."
Keeping his gaze on the frosted wood chips, Gold clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. "You'll lose, Zelena— more than you realize."
The woman moved so fast, Gold was sure he was already dead. Zelena pressed the edge of the dagger into his throat until a drop of blood trickled down his neck and landed on one of his lapels. "You really don't get it, do you? Regina is nothing. Her power had to be learned, but mine? Mine manifested on its own. I was born with it. That should tell you something, shouldn't it?"
Keeping his heart rate at an even pace and using the utmost self-control, Gold simply smirked at the overly-confident Witch. "If you think that's why you two are different, you'll never see your similarities."
"We are NOTHING alike!" Zelena growled, slicing more of his epidermis. Her eyes were ablaze with rage and her fangs were bared as if she were a rabid animal. Sensing how close she was to letting loose and actually killing her best weapon, Zelena yanked the dagger away from his face and wiped it with her cape, her green gloves impervious to the red fluids. "The only reason you're still alive is because your talents will soon be needed. Whether or not you can live with yourself afterwards is your own problem."
For a reason only Gold knew, he let out his Rumpliest cackle. "If you need my help, dearie, then you've already lost."
Regina could have very well teleported to the crypt, but she'd much rather go on foot. Hiking through the bushes and trees, she was reminded of the livelihood around her. The world hadn't stopped just because her demented sister was plotting her death. No, Regina soaked up the sunlight like a blossoming flower, savored the sounds of nature, and was in no rush to reenter the concrete building. If she was going to spend her day in an empty cage, Regina wanted to appreciate the last bit of serenity around here.
As if it had never been touched, the ancient chest of magical supplies rested at the other end of the vault. Even if Regina hadn't known that it belonged to her mother, she could tell that it was old by the lock and wood. Bronze and deteriorating, the latch had seen better days. There was no actual key to open heavy encasement, not one that could be held. Regina had sealed this trunk with the same kind of magic she'd used to trap the flying monkeys: True Love. Only she could undo what had been done.
With a balletic wave of her wrist, the lid swung open and revealed the sacred objects it was tasked with protecting. Of the few items that had been transported to this world after her curse, Regina had really only valued two of the pieces. One of them had originally been hidden in Gold's shop, but once she recovered it and assumed the ownership, the Queen was rather possessive of the book of spells— The book of spells.
Small enough to fit in any library without being detected, the grimoire just barely fit in the palm of Regina's hand. The frayed and tinted pages were full of incantations and charms, potions and hexes all written in many different languages. As a young pupil, it and taken Regina quite some time to learn how to translate the information, but once she did, the power began to take over.
Regina wasn't looking for anything in particular. She just wanted to know that the book was there and that no one else had access to it, that she didn't want to have. The brunette thumbed through the items she had strong recollections of: the preservation spell, memory-erasing, controlling inanimate objects, etc. Drawings created by God knows who practically floated off of the pages and danced in front of Regina, a tease of the life she used to lead. She had no current intention of using such dark magic, but it was severely tempting.
Before she succumbed to the coaxing, Regina slammed the book shut and the pictures dissolved. She gingerly put it back into its allotted location and rummaged through the rest of the artifacts. She searched through crystals and ingredients for potions until she found exactly what she was looking for: her second most prized possession. As if she were handling the Constitution of the United States, or in her own case, a treaty with the giants, Regina unearthed Daniel's navy shawl. The last time she'd laid eyes on the material, Daniel was wearing it; he was wearing it when he died.
Draping the blanket-like cover over her back, Regina tied the roped-strings into a bow and twirled around in it like a child trying on a new dress. All he'd ever wanted was for her to believe in herself, to be good. Daniel had known that Regina was nothing like Cora. There was never a doubt in his mind that the future queen would someday be the type of leader lands would wish to have. If she only trusted herself and her ability to be brave.
His voice rang clear as day in Regina's mind. "Love again." She would never be able to forgive herself for releasing Daniel, even if he had been in pain. He was the reason she got into magic in the first place; she wanted to keep their love alive. Losing Daniel was like losing her own self, and eventually, Regina had truly lost all sight of the person she'd been. She could blame it on Snow or Cora, but deep down, she knew she only had to blame herself.
Regina had learned a lot since Daniel's death. She didn't just learn about magic, but she had been exposed to a different kind of power, the kind that very few people would ever be able to feel; Regina learned about family. For so long, she thought she'd spend the rest of her life alone. When Henry virtually disowned her, even though it was temporary, Regina believed that her price for casting the curse was being by herself. But then, she saw the way Mary Margaret and David welcomed their daughter with open arms. She noticed how easily Emma and Henry had become a unit, with or without fake memories. And, to top it all off, Regina experienced what True Love could really do.
Now, though… now it was all different. Regina had spent a lifetime holding a grudge against people who were no longer her enemies, but her friends. She finally had people in her corner, people who cared about her and believed in her the way Daniel had. As soon as she got her son back, and as soon as she found Emma again, Zelena had to come and ruin it all— and yes, Regina was being realistic and believing Zelena had the ability to win. One of them would have to die, the brunette unwillingly concluded. As powerful and as strong as Regina was, there always was that chance that Zelena was even stronger and more powerful. In the end, only one of them would come out of the fight. And, as Regina said goodbye to Daniel for the last time, she was hit with a renewed sense of determinism.
Tucking away the cape with heavy regard, the Queen made an oath to herself. She was going to defeat Zelena, one way or another. And when she did, Regina was going to find her happy ending; she was going to love again.
It was just Emma and Henry in the gigantic house. Although Regina was absent, Emma enforced the rules she was positive their host would have: no eating anywhere but in the dining room, use napkins, and put cups on a a coaster. In an effort to ease the tension, the blonde whipped up a batch of cookies for lunch and made Henry swear not to tell the brunette of their sugar-filled meal. Dunking their desserts into tall glasses of milk, the mother and son— for once— had very little to say. On the inside, Henry was bursting with questions and ramblings, of course. What 12 year-old in this situation wouldn't? But, as he matured into a young man, he was starting to appreciate what silence had to offer.
While Henry had only expressed a couple of observations, Emma read his body language and could tell he was fretting. He only ate three cookies, and they were the size of quarters; meanwhile, Emma had scarfed down six. Hardly half of his milk had been ingested and a white mustache was drawn over his upper lip. Normally, he was much more self-conscious about that sort of thing, but today, he never even noticed. "Penny for your thoughts?" Emma asked gently.
Tearing his paper napkin into smaller shreds, Henry stopped fidgeting and corrected his slouch. "Mom? What… what happens if I don't remember? Like, is that a bad thing?" As if he were ashamed for even asking, he looked away and rolled his napkin into a ball.
Contemplating how to respond, Emma tapped into her diplomatic side and tried to mesh it with her motherly side. "If you don't remember, then we'll just start from the beginning. I'm not gonna lie, it's not exactly a happy possibility. But, Kid, no one will be mad at you if you can't remember. It's not your fault."
"What if… what if I don't want my old memories back?" Henry posed timidly.
Cocking her head to one side, Emma leaned over the table. "Why wouldn't you?"
"I dunno… I just… I mean, I don't really wanna remember the bad stuff 'cause it seems like there was a lot of it," the teenager vocalized.
Coming around to what Henry was saying, Emma struggled with what to tell him. Her son was sitting just feet away from her and she had no idea what to say; she was speechless. She wasn't angry or disappointed in him. In fact, she saw the validity in his worries and only wished she could have been as pensive as Henry was when she had been his age. In the, almost, three years that she'd known the boy, Emma couldn't pick out her favorite memory of him. He had taught her so much about being a good parent and about being a good person. He'd been so quick to accept this new reality, that she almost forgot he wasn't apart of it; it was ironic, too.
"Have you ever heard that saying, 'Without pain we wouldn't know joy, without hate we wouldn't know love, and without sadness we wouldn't know happiness?'" Emma asked. "I think that's true. I get why you wouldn't want all the freaky memories, hell, I wouldn't want them. But, now that I do, I'm kinda glad. I wasn't at first, but now I am."
"But that's different, Mom. You're like, the hero of this place. I'm just… I dunno, a kid."
"No way! Henry, look, I know you feel like you're out of place, but that's only because you can't remember. You've got the heart of the truest believer; that means you're a hero, too. You were willing to… do whatever you had to do to save magic. No one else could have done that." What started out as an innocent question had become a full-fledged discussion. Emma was rather satisfied with her improvised reasoning.
Like a child who had just been given a lecture, Henry didn't respond immediately. He didn't know how to. What Emma had said was making sense, but he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do. In just a matter of days, his entire world had been turned upside down. He was content in New York; he loved the apartment and the sounds of the city. It's where he'd grown up— or, where he thought he'd grown up. And then, without much preparation, he's in a town he'd never heard of around strangers who were supposedly his family. The stores were weird, people kept staring at him, and he hadn't been allowed to talk to anyone at first. However, there was still something about this place; there was a familiarity to it all. In a strange way, it felt more like home than New York did.
After allowing his mother's words of wisdom set in, Henry resigned to her logic, shook it off, and changed the topic. "Mom? Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot," Emma said before taking a swig of her drink.
"Does Madam— does Regina know that you love her?" Too comical to be real life, Emma choked on her milk, spilled it all over her shirt and jeans, and her face was the color of a ruby-red apple.