It was exactly as Emma remembered it. Hauntingly, childishly so. As she lay on the bed, twisting and contorting her body in pain as half her soul was ripped away from her, she looked up at the smooth, white ceiling. It lacked any imperfections. The only thing that caught her eye was a mobile of dancing unicorns. Dancing fucking unicorns. Emma stood on the bed, ignoring the searing pain in her chest as she impulsively sought out her magic to perform the task in mind. It was no matter. Doing it physically would use up more time.

More time until not was a question she chose not to consider. She stood on tiptoe at the end of the bed but the mobile was still too high to reach. She let out a sigh of frustration, then jumped down and grabbed a heavy tomb from the nearest bookcase. She threw it at the mobile with all her strength; it was dislodged and landed on the floor with a satisfying crash. Emma stomped on all the surviving unicorns until they were nothing but powder. She felt better. She rolled her shoulders and scanned the room for something else to break.

"GINA!"

Regina jumped in her seat at the breakfast table.

"What?" she demanded of her friend.

"Regina, that is the seventh time I've said your name," Maleficent said, a little more gently.

"Oh. My apologies, I must have been lost in thought."

"You don't say," Maleficent said dryly. Regina sighed. "Do you want to talk about it?" Mal asked.

Regina bit her lip. No. She did not want to talk about it, because she did not want it to be true. But…

"Look, my friend, I saw what happened. I saw the way you looked at that girl, I saw the way you kissed that girl, and I saw the way your heart broke when you realised who she was. Who did you think she was?"

"Nobody," Regina said quietly. "I… I was labouring under the gross misapprehension that she… That she was nothing but free. That she was nothing but real, and that she and I could…" Regina trailed off miserably.

"How did you meet?" Mal asked. She had never known Regina in love. It was beautiful even now.

"In a tavern. She is, was, or pretended to be, I suppose, a… A prostitute."

Maleficent laughed loudly.

"A hooker? Really? My, Regina, you impress me. I did not know you indulged in such pursuits."

"I don't," Regina said. "I mean, she… I…"

"She said that she loved you," Maleficent observed. "Is the sentiment returned?"

"Of course not. She is Snow White's long lost daughter."

"And if she were not?"

"Such hypotheticals are ridiculous. She is. There is nothing to be done."

"Snow thinks you kidnapped her," Maleficent commented.

"Snow is lying to protect her scheme. That family has never done anything but torture me. Princess Emma White is just like her mother, and even more like her grandfather."

At this, Regina shuddered. Her mind flashed to the numerous times Emma had bedded her, had pleasured her, had made her feel things she did not even know were possible. The numerous times Emma had pretended to help her heal, heal from the pains of a forced, cruel marriage. And it had all been a lie. Snow and her daughter had waited until she had finally managed to mend her heart, and then they had ripped it apart once again.

"What of her declaration of love?"

"An act, nothing more. To confuse me, to prolong my misery."

Maleficent paused, sipping her tea. "You are not a foolish woman, Regina. You are shrewd and observant. I find it difficult to believe that the Swan girl could trick you into anything, let alone into believing yourself to be in love."

"I do not believe myself to be-"

"Yes, yes, dear, of course you don't. What did she tell you, about who she was?"

"She… That she ran away from a family that did not understand her. She even said she had been a princess, but I thought she was joking, or being metaphorical."

"And does that not seem possible?"

"Anything is possible. But she was Princess of the White Kingdom, heir to the most powerful throne in the realm. Why on earth would she run?"

Mal rolled her eyes. "I don't know, Regina. Maybe she's like you."

Regina groaned. "Stop it! Stop giving me hope, stop trying to convince me that any of the past week was real."

"I am simply suggesting that you examine the facts. I saw the way you danced with her, the way she danced with you… I saw happiness in your eyes. True happiness."

"She is a liar and a whore. She faked it."

"Very well. As you say. It was all a lie and you can go back to slaughtering innocents by day and sobbing into your pillow by night."

Regina threw a breakfast roll at her friend.

"Come along. Henry wishes to see you. He asked if you would turn into a dragon for him."

"If your stupidity continues, he just might be treated to the sight."

"Good morning, Emma."

Emma wanted to spit in her so called mother's face. She was used to the cuff now. There was no longer pain. What she now felt was worse. Because now, she felt nothing. She was dull. She felt drained, drained of blood and colour. She still felt emotion, but it was akin to being blinded… They had taken her most important sense.

"Emma, someone is here to see you."

Emma pounced when she saw who was there. They might have taken her magic, but they had yet to chain her body. She threw the human-sized fairy across the room. Blue righted herself in the air, frowning.

"Yes, Snow, I believe she is cursed. We will need…"

Snow sighed, then waved her hand for four members of the royal guard to enter the room. They marched in, not speaking, and tied Emma to the bed. Emma screamed like a wild thing. She didn't care what they thought of her, she didn't care about anything. She kicked and flailed and even bit when a hand came too close to her mouth. Blue waved her wand and Emma felt her body go stiff. She was silenced too, but she continued to scream, catching her mother's eye and letting out a stream of noiseless curses.

She had been HAPPY. She had been part of something, she had touched it, she'd had a family. Yet again her mother had tried to rip away all that she loved. And this time she had succeeded.

Blue frowned, then gasped, blushing bright red, then frowned again, even more.

"She is not cursed," Blue said slowly. "But I think I know why she felt bound to the Evil Queen. And Regina has performed magic on her, too, although…"

"What?" Snow demanded.

Blue blushed again. "I… It is, I do not quite understand," the fairy lied. It did not make sense, though she knew what the magic had been used for.

"Tell me," Snow said. Emma stopped struggling, instead gesturing to be allowed to speak. Blue waved her wand, deciding she would rather not be the bearer of this news.

Emma felt a little guilty as she spoke. She was using Regina, using her reputation, to torture her mother.

"She used her magic to fuck me," Emma said. "And I loved it."

Snow gasped. She had seen the kiss, but she had told herself repeatedly that it had never gone further, that her daughter would never…

"What did you mean, you know why she was bound?" Snow asked Blue hurriedly.

"I wasn't bound!" Emma insisted. "I was with her by choice."

Blue looked at Snow. "Emma is a mother," she said. "And she has recently been reunited with her child. A child with a very powerful magical signature."

Snow looked at her daughter, aghast.

"I am not a mother," Emma said. "She's mistaken. Probably because this thing's fucking with my body and my magic. She's getting false readings."

"I am not mistaken," Blue said. "Regina has taken the child, the heir to the White throne."

Snow's eyes widened. "What?"

Blue nodded. "A boy, of three years old."

"Three and a half," Emma muttered.

"Emma, is this true?"

"The only child Regina has is her own son," Emma said firmly. "Now let me go. I abdicate, whatever, I have no interest in being here, and you have no right to restrain me."

"You do not know your own mind," Blue said softly.

"But you said she is not cursed," Snow said undertainly.

"She is not… But there are other ways to manipulate a mind. It has been years. She was only a child when she was taken."

"No! It hasn't. I have only known her for a week, I swear. Regina never caused me harm. She is a good person." Emma tried a new tactic, looking pleadingly at her mother. "Let me go. Leave her alone. She has done no wrong."

Snow shook her head. "I am sorry, Emma. But I cannot believe that, even if you do."

"You cannot keep me in chains."

Snow sighed. "You are right. Release her, Blue."

Blue waved her wand; Emma jumped off the bed.

"And the cuff?" she asked, knowing the answer but begging with her eyes nonetheless.

"It is for your own safety," Snow told her.

"Magic is not always bad. You trust Blue."

"Blue has had years of training. Your magic is volatile. Blue, we must retrieve the child."

"No! He is Regina's son," Emma exclaimed.

Snow shook her head. "Regina cannot have children."

Emma stared at this woman, this stranger, who she had never been able to comprehend.

"He is her adopted son. She is still his mother. Blood means a lot less than you seem to think."

Snow bit her lip. "Leave us, Blue," she said eventually. Blue looked at Emma distrustfully, but left the room, telling Snow firmly to call if she needed her.

Snow motioned to two easy chairs by the fireplace. Emma sat in one. Snow took a deep breath as she sat in the other.

"You do not know her like I do," Snow said.

"I know her better," Emma said, trying her best to be calm. She thought back to Regina's stories of her first love, of how he had died… And then she looked up at the woman who was to blame and wondered how Snow could possibly judge any of the "Evil" Queen's actions.

"Emma, she… She suffered. It is not widely known. She is a tortured soul. I would be lying if I said I did not feel some sympathy for her. But her pain turned her dark, cold… That woman cannot love. She may no longer slaughter-"

"Do not say that as if you have not killed, Snow White."

Snow frowned at the interruption, but ploughed on with her point. "She may no longer be evil, but she cannot love. She cannot be a mother, especially not to your son. I see your face when I mention him. Emma, my love, do you not wish to see him?"

"I am not your 'love'! And of course I wish to see him. I could see him, when I was with Regina. When I was… When I was home."

"Emma, you are home now."

"No. Snow, this has never been my home and you know it. I have never been happy here, and I was not taken. I ran. I ran when you tried to… When you tried to rip away a part of my soul, a part of who I am."

"Emma, it was a mistake, I, we, we just wanted what was best for you."

Emma held up the wrist with the cuff on it. "If it was a mistake, you have learned little from it."

Snow looked at the woman, the woman who was her daughter. In a way she had not changed at all. She had the same fire in her eyes, the same strength. But in a way she was endlessly different. Endlessly far away.

"We will get you your son," Snow said. "When you have your child, you will be happy again."

Emma shook her head vehemently. "I know better than anyone not to keep a child where they do not want to be. I may have given birth to the boy, but Regina is his mother."

"You cannot go back to her, Emma. And we cannot leave the child there. He is the White Prince. His… His father?"

"Long gone," Emma said, rolling her eyes.

"I will have Bue examine him… We should ride at nightfall. And you should come. It will be good for him to see a familiar face. Now, come and see your father."

"No. I will not let you, I will not let you take him from her!"

Snow looked at her daughter, her expression as kind as it could be.

"You have no choice, Emma. We will go with or without you."

"I… You are despicable."

"What is right is rarely what is easy."

"No. But neither is it always what you want."

Snow stood, motioning for Emma to follow. Emma did so, tugging absent mindedly at the cuff around her wrist.

"Mama?"

Regina reclined on her chaise longue, Henry on her stomach, playing with her hair. She bopped his nose with her finger.

"Yes, my love?"

"Why are you so sad?"

She forced a smile. "I am not sad, Henry."

"I think you miss Emma."

She sighed. "You are right. I do. But I have you. I will be fine."

"Do you want to steal some chocolate?"

"Stealing is wrong, Henry."

"Okay… Do you want to have some chocolate?"

Regina laughed. He was such a clever boy. She sat up, then lifted him as she stood. She caught sight of her hair in the mirror.

"What is that?" she asked, hiding the horror at the wild tangles and knots in her hair.

"I made you a braid," Henry said happily. She chuckled. "Mama, can we poof there?"

Another laugh. "As you wish, my love," she said. They disappeared in a puff of smoke, reappearing in the kitchen.

Henry wriggled to be set down, then opened a cupboard and took out a saucepan. He upturned it on the floor, then stood on it to open a drawer. He removed four wooden spoons, handing two to his mother. He got down from the pot and pulled out several more, all of different sizes, then stood behind one and hit it with a spoon to make a satisfying clang. Regina raised her eyebrows.

"It's music," he said, grinning. "Can I have some chocolate?"

Regina waited, knowing he would remember.

"Please!"

She found a small chocolate cake and cut it in half, deciding she could use it. Then she sat cross legged and watched Henry as he hit the pots with great enthusiasm.

"You too!" he demanded. She tapped a pot experimentally.

"IT HAS TO BE LOUD," Henry shouted. Regina finished her cake, then surveyed the makeshift drums. She remembered the sound of army drummers, the rhythms they would play on celebratory marches, the dancers with coloured streamers spinning to the primitive music.

She started a beat, turning her sadness to anger and taking it out on the metal. Henry beamed at her, mimicking her movements.

They were so caught up in their "music" that they did not notice the others enter the room until it was far too late.

Henry saw Emma first. He said her name; for a moment Regina smiled, turning to her lover, thinking that by some miracle it had all been a mistake, Emma was not the princess, was no one but the woman she loved, and she had come back. But then there were Snow and Charming and a posse of fairies, surrounding Regina and her son. Instinctively, Regina pulled Henry to her chest, holding him close.

"What do you want with me?" she spat, directing the words at her most recent betrayer. Emma felt a sob choke through her body.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. Snow squared up to the other Queen, then, to Regina's horror, seemed to assess her son.

"We have come to take him home," Snow said firmly. "You would be a fool to resist."

"What do you mean?" Regina said. It had to be a nightmare. It made no sense. None. "He is my son. What do you want with him?"

"He is not your son," Snow said pointedly.

"He is mine by law, and by love. What claim can you possibly have over him?"

"He is Emma's son. He is the White Prince. And we will take him."

Regina gaped at them, then adjusted so she held Henry with one arm, and conjured a fireball in her free hand.

"Get away from us or so help me," she growled. Tears streamed down Emma's cheeks as the fairies surrounded Regina, preparing to immobilise her.

"Get a grip, Princess," Regina said with a vile sneer. "What are you crying about? You're getting everything you ever wanted. A ready made family. They're even stealing a child for you."

"None of this is what I want," Emma managed, but Regina hardly heard her. Henry was crying, shaking in her arms.

"Mama, what's happening?"

Regina looked at Emma then. She realised she had to know.

"Is it true?" she asked, her voice painfully weak.

Emma managed to nod. "But I didn't know, I swear. I never wanted to hurt you. I lo-"

"Don't you DARE!" Regina roared. "Don't you dare say that to me as you stand with these monsters and prepare to take my son."

"Take him home," Snow insisted.

"Where are we going?" Henry sobbed into Regina's ear. "Make them go away, Mama. I'm scared."

Regina held him tightly, but she was powerless against the fairies as they froze her with their dust. Still she held on to her son. She held in her screams as they prised him from her grip, wanting to be strong, not wanting to make him even more afraid.

"Mama!" he sobbed. Snow handed him to Emma.

"This is your Mama," she told him.

"No, this is Emma!" he screeched. "Not my Mama. Emma, I want my MAMA!"

"I ca- I can't," Emma sobbed.

"I hate you!" Henry cried. "I hate you! Give me back to Mama!"

Emma cried even harder as Snow and the fairies dragged her from the room. Regina waited until they would be long gone, way out of earshot, until the spell had faded and she and her magic were free. And then she exploded. She screamed and cried, she burned and destroyed, she annihilated the room, and then the corridor, tearing and smashing and pulverising everything in her wake, but it would never be enough.

Henry squirmed in Emma's arms, beating her with tiny fists, his face red with effort from trying to escape her. He screamed and cried, much like his mother was. Emma held in her tears, trying to be strong for him. She tried in vain to comfort him, in the carriage, then in the nursery, a new one. She insisted on staying with him while Blue examined him.

"He is fine, she would never have hurt him," Emma said angrily, as Snow, Blue, and Charming looked down at the Prince.

Blue ignored her, taking out her wand to get a reading from the boy.

"He is… No! This cannot be," she exclaimed after a moment.

"Cannot be what?" Charming asked.

"His bloodline, his power… He is of Rumpelstiltskin's line."

Snow stared at Emma. "WHAT?" she screeched.

"No, not the Dark One," Blue said hurriedly. "His son. Baelfire. I met him when he was a child, but I gave him a magic bean. It was hundreds of years ago. He was in Neverland."

Baelfire. Emma looked down at Henry, a wordless apology in her eyes as she considered his lineage. He was the centre of everything, it seemed. Emma had never met Rumpelstiltskin, but she had heard stories, as everyone had.

"But Emma was not in Neverland. She must have known Baelfire in this realm."

Emma looked between her parents, talking as if she was not there. Henry was finally asleep.

"Yes," Blue said. Emma stayed quiet, deciding her input was unnecessary.

"But Rumple does not know."

"He has spent decades trying to get to Neverland. His family is drawn to it. He is blinded by dark magic and desperation. But he will return if he does not find his son there, and he will be greatly displeased."

Decades? Wait, what? Emma looked at the annoying fairy.

"How old is Baelfire?" she asked.

"People do not age in Neverland," Blue said slowly. "But I sent him there almost a hundred years ago."

"That little…" Emma muttered. "Well. I sure can pick 'em."

Deciding that the ageing problems of her lovers was the least of her worries, Emma asked to be left alone with Henry, who she still felt uncomfortable calling her son. She watched as he slept fitfully, then eyed him nervously as he awoke.

"Mama?" he whispered, childishly expecting his own bed. As he remembered where he was, he immediately began to cry. Emma reached for his hand, at least, but he pulled away, dissolving into screams and sobs and demands to see his real mother.

A/N: As always, thank you so much for your support. More soon... It'll get better. Eventually. I promise.