"There was no iodine on the table. Nothing to react to. No iodine or zinc or ammonium nitrate, which would be the most common reactors. But purple smoke. And...the image. Possible afterimage from an explosion. But no known reactors in the immediate vicinity. And no reaction to the smoke. So it couldn't have been iodine. But the purple smoke…"

"Maura! You're rambling. Maura!" Jane realizes her friend has slipped back into uber-science geek mode and right now she needs a fully functional Maura. At least the alarms have shut off and they're allowed back into Maura's office. "Doctor Isles!"

"Yes?" Maura replies. "I'm not having some kind of fit, Jane. I'm trying to work through a number of variables to come to a logical explanation for the events we just witnessed. There's no need to shout."

"Well, whatever Emma and Regina are up to, they think us seeing it is reason enough to run. Any theories on that?"

"I suppose there's the possibility they're involved in some kind of undercover operation? But then they would have resources to find Henry that make us irrelevant. Maybe Frost knows more about portable weaponry, but it honestly looked more like a hologram."

"You're telling me Regina can make Tupac appear? This isn't a music festival," Jane reminds her. "Will the alarms in the lab tell us exactly what set them off?"

"I'll get a report within the hour, yes. Jane, what do we do?"

"We do exactly what we were doing before. We find out who the kid in the morgue is. We find his killer. And we make sure Henry Mills is back in our custody before anything bad can happen to him."

"And what about your friend?"

"Emma's always been a runner. There's no use chasing her. I just hope she's not getting into more trouble. And hey, it's not like she really told us all that much."

"You're not upset?" Maura has that quizzical expression she reserves for Jane, a naked sort of curiosity that says she wants to know how people react to these situations that Maura just can't seem to understand. "She's supposed to be like family."

"Family who hasn't called in a year, remember? And you and I both know that 'family' only means as much as anyone wants it to. Or do we need to compare dads again?"

"No, we definitely don't," Maura agrees. "I'm aware that it's simple attachment theory, but I can't imagine cutting off all contact with you for a year. Isn't that strange? I'm so used to being self-sufficient, but I can already tell that I would miss you."

"That's a dorky way of saying it, but I'd miss you too, Maura. Try not to end up in witness protection or anything, okay? Or at least don't change your cell plan, just in case."

"I'm very happy with my current plan. It provides excellent value for money and-"

Jane chuckles at that. "I have no doubt that you have compared every possible plan and figured out exactly which one is best for you, Maura. Now, I say we go back to the kid, get an ID. That's one break we don't have yet, and someone has to have reported him missing by now."

"I'll get the lab work expedited," Maura offers. "And I'm sorry Emma ran out on you like that, but I confess I'm also a little glad."

"Really? And why might that be?"

"We're already a good team, there's a large amount of empirical evidence to support that we have a successful partnership. I think we stand an excellent chance of solving this case as we are."

"That and you suck at change, right?"

"Jane! I do not. I confess I'm not the most adaptable person at times, but I think I can 'roll with your punching' by now."

"You mean 'roll with the punches'? Yeah, I guess you can. And you really are pretty sweet sometimes, you know that?"

Maura shakes her head as if the very idea is ridiculous, but Jane catches the smile as she turns to leave Maura's office.

"See you when you get the results."

"Absolutely not." Regina hisses as Emma heads towards the front entrance to a dilapidated building that has a sign out front proclaiming it a 'mo' instead of a motel because the last three letters are burnt out.

"We need a place to regroup that we're not gonna get found. This is it. Trust me."

"Or we will be found, by your Detective and her Medical Examiner when they're called to investigate our murders!"

Emma rolls her eyes. "Gimme your cash."

"I will not pay to stay in this establishment!" Regina actually stomps her foot, but by the time she's done with her little display, Emma's already got her wallet in hand and is pulling out the cash.

"Fine. Then don't stay. But I am." She holds the moneyless wallet out to Regina.

"How did you -"

"Petty criminal, remember? Picking pockets is the easiest con there is."

Regina shoves the wallet back in her purse and hurries after Emma.

The man behind the counter is clearly more interested on whatever raucous television show is on the tiny set he's got on the desk than he is in them.

"Whaddya want?" He asks, never looking up as the sound of people chanting 'Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!' filters up to them from the television.

"We'd like to book a room in your five-star accommodation," Emma says, trying her best to be flirtatious. Regina scoffs beside her.

The man glances up at them for just a moment before his gaze goes back to the television. "Names?"

Emma looks at Regina for a moment before she smirks. "Lucy and Ethel."

That gets the man's attention. "Oh yeah? And you got any IDs on yous, Lucy and Ethel?"

Emma makes a show of sticking her hands into her pockets. "Well, what do ya know? Must've forgotten them. But maybe my friend Ben can help sort all this out." She pulls one of the hundred dollar bills out of her pocket and holds it up. "What do you think?"

The man snatches the money. "I think you got yourself a room, Laverne and Shirley."

Emma grins as she takes the key. "That's Lucy and Ethel."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You stay more than one night, your friend Ben might need to make another visit to me, otherwise I'll call the cops."

"No you won't." Emma sounds sure of herself as she turns away, glad she didn't have to resort to the gun shoved in her waistband to make a point. "Come on, Ethel, let's go check out our digs."

"Lucy and Ethel?" Regina huffs once they're away from the man and heading for their room. "What kind of names are those?"

Emma stops in her tracks and stares at Regina. "Seriously? You don't know Lucy and Ethel?"

"I have no idea what you're blabbering on about. And I don't see why you gave the man fake names to begin with. He obviously isn't going to tell the police anything."

"Yeah, until they come around and start offering him stuff too. Not taking that chance."

"Well, you still could have picked better names."

"I was gonna go with Thelma and Louise, but figured that wasn't the kind of ending we were looking for."

Regina stares blankly at her again and Emma rolls her eyes. "Seriously, do you never watch television or movies? What names would you have preferred, Your Majesty, Rapunzel and Cinde-fucking-rella?"

"You're impossible."

"Yeah, yeah." Emma shoves the key in the lock and twists until it opens. "Welcome to your new castle."

"We've identified the kid, Jane!" Korsak announces, already in motion as Jane wanders back into the squad room, checking her phone for the explanatory text she already knows won't come. "The prints just came on the system and we managed to match them with the child protection database a bunch of the private schools implemented last year. Huck Lyman, twelve years old."

"Anyone speak to the parents?"

"They're already on their way. I let Frankie do the notification call, he handled it pretty well."

"Thanks for that, Vince. Seriously," Jane insists. "Listen, we might not have access to Henry's moms for a while, so this investigation stays in house as much as possible, okay? Other than the APB I don't want to release any more details yet."

"But someone might have seen-" Frost starts to argue, but Jane shakes her head.

"Frost, you did more background on this Mendell guy? Tell me we know more about him than we did last night."

"He was a rookie at the police academy in Portland, but they flunked him out on the psych eval," Frost reads from his screen, eyes darting back and forth as five or six programs run at once. "He's done a bunch of fake-cop jobs since, mall security, that kind of thing, and then two years ago he just drops off the grid. No taxes filed, nothing."

"Tell me there's no-"

"Not even a hint of pedophilia. Nothing to indicate he's ever so much as talked to a kid before. I know it's no guarantee, but Dr Isles confirmed in the autopsy report that there was no sign of… you know."

"Yeah. Let's be grateful for that," Jane sighs.

"Grateful for what?" Maura asks. "The fingerprints are done, you'll have DNA and trace as soon as they can finish running them."

"Thanks, Doctor Isles," Korsak replies. "I was just telling Jane we got a hit right away on the fingerprints. Poor kid's parents will be here soon."

"Did they file a missing person's report?" Jane asks. "If Mendell and his girlfriend were driving back and forth to Maine, the kid has to at least have been gone a day, if not longer."

"Kid was staying with his grandma while Mom and Dad were out of town. She didn't call anyone because he'd sneak back to his own house whenever he had trouble sleeping. By the time they all worked it out and called the police, we were already chasing this creep down."

"The file on Huck is in the system?" Jane asks, sinking into her desk chair. Maura pulls up a spare one next to her, curiosity piqued. "That's a cute name."

"It's probably short for Huckleberry," Maura starts to explain. "Although the name was far more popular in the time of Mark Twain, it has been making a resurgence on the most popular name lists in recent years."

"You read those things?" Jane asks, bringing up the information on her screen. "You got a turkey baster lying around that I don't know about?"

"There's one in the utensil drawer."

"But that's to baste actual turkeys, right?"

"Or chicken. Guinea fowl, too. In fact, if you wanted to-"

"Relax, Maura," Jane says, saddened by the picture of a happy little boy in his smart school uniform, one of his front teeth missing in the picture. She can see the resemblance to the boy they're still searching for, and that's worrying on its own "It's just something people say if you're having a baby with a sperm donor. Forget about it."

"He looks happy," Maura sighs. "I can understand the psychology behind most crimes we process, but some emotional response just rejects the logic for hurting a child."

"It's called being a person," Jane mutters. "But I know what you mean. If Mendell did do this, he's going down for it. Anything on that APB yet, guys?"

"Nothing," Korsak confirms, looking at his own screen. "Last camera that picked them up did have them heading towards the docks, but we can't narrow it down any further right now, or if they actually stopped there. Could be a decoy, if he's trained at all. Searching the docks thoroughly could take all day and all night."

"And then some," Frost adds. "Plus, a big search tips off anyone in hiding. We can't risk the safety of the kid until we're sure."

Korsak's phone buzzes and he nods towards Jane. "Let's go deal with the Lymans, okay? And you can tell me on the way why we don't have access to your friend and Henry's other mom."

"Tell me you know where he is." Emma says, her voice dull and flat, when they're hunkered down in the room that reminds her just a bit too much of the basement apartment she'd been in only hours before. She moves around, turning on all the lights to try and cast the darkness away.

"What?" Regina looks up, startled, from where she's been eying the single bed with disgust.

"Tell me that your little magic act back there told you where Henry is. Or at least gave you something more to go on than we had before. Tell me that I didn't just lose-" her throat clogs and she can't finish her sentence, so she goes in a different direction, "that we didn't just run away from the only help we had for nothing."

Regina seems to be studying her for a long moment before she speaks. "You were the one who fell back on old habits and decided to run."

"Oh, you wanna talk about falling back on old habits? Really?" Emma laughs, but it is by no means pleasant. "You used magic, Regina! In a public place. With witnesses. When it wasn't even supposed to be possible! So don't talk to me about falling back on old habits."

"You said you trusted this Jane and yet your first instinct was to run. Why?"

"I'm not doing this now, Regina." Emma flops down on the bed, doing her best not to think about the stains on the comforter.

"It seems to me that this is a pattern with you. Always running. What is it that you're running from, Emma?"

"You think I wanted to stick around and tell her that you're the fucking Evil Queen?" Emma's eyes trace the cracks in the ceiling, the words spilling from her mouth strangely devoid of any inflection. It is almost as though she's exhausted everything she could possibly give. "You think I wanted to see her face when I tried to explain that my parents are Snow White and Prince Charming? No. She can think...I don't know. I don't care. But I could not stand there and see that look in her eyes and hear her tell me that I'm… no. Anyone else, maybe. But not Jane."

"What look?" Regina asks softly, moving closer to Emma. "What do you think she would've said?"

"When I told her that fairy tales and magic are real? I think she would've looked at me with pity and told me I was crazy, Regina. Like any normal fucking person would."

"Perhaps she wouldn't have. Perhaps-" Regina begins, suddenly defending the detective that Emma has placed so much trust in, probably just because a part of her still wants to piss Emma off at every possible opportunity.

"No. I know Jane. She is even farther from a 'true believer' than I was. I was fighting an ogre and my brain was still telling me, 'you must be dreaming about Shrek'."

"And if she thought that you were...mistaken about things, would that really have changed your relationship that much? Would it change the way she feels about you, just because she didn't believe you on this one thing?"

Emma sits up then and there's just a bit of fire in her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Regina. Because when the people you love and trust start looking at you differently or telling you that you're crazy, you know it. No matter how much you try to pretend you don't or that you aren't. And that fucking messes you up."

"Like I did with Henry." Regina murmurs, turning away to look out the window.

And Emma wants to comfort her in that moment, wants to assure her that she didn't irrevocably screw Henry up, but she can't. Because she knows what it's like to be on the other end, knows what it does to you to have people who are supposed to be on your side not believe you and just how fucked up it can make you. She knows about second guessing yourself and being cautious with everything you say or do. So she can't just absolve Regina of this crime.

"Yeah." She nods. "Like I did too." But she can shoulder some of the blame.

Regina spins around and stares at Emma, the look on her face reflecting her disbelief.

"I didn't believe him either. I humored him, sure, but I didn't believe him. You were there that day. You know what I thought. What I said." She thinks back to that day in Regina's office, to the perfect set up and how even though she'd been so mad at Regina, she was also mad at herself. Mad because she had called Henry crazy when she knew how much that could hurt. And mad because deep down she'd believed it too. "In fact, you set me up to say it."

"It wasn't the same. Not to him."

"But it was to me. And me thinking he was just a little bit crazy almost got him killed. He ate that pastry to prove me wrong." Emma rolls her neck and shifts on the bed, doing her best to avoid the springs that are poking up through the mattress. "But it's done now."

"I-"

"Are you gonna tell me if your magic trick revealed anything that actually helps us? Because time is ticking and without the cops, we need a new gameplan."

Regina looks down at the tattered carpet for a moment before she looks back up. "I saw him."

Emma's off the bed before the words are out of her mouth. "What? You did? Where is he? Is he hurt?"

"I - I don't know. It was very hazy. And I was so surprised that it even worked, and then Dr. Isles reacted and the alarms went off."

"And everything went to hell in a handbasket." Emma runs her fingers through tangled hair. "Okay. Well. Do it again."

"I don't know that I can." Regina admits. "I don't have any of his things with me now and - it shouldn't be possible here."

"But it was. You did it. And you have to do it again, Regina. You have to." Emma reaches out and rests her hand on Regina's shoulder. "Please. Just try."

Regina's shoulders sag for a moment before they straighten and she closes her eyes, her lips moving silently and her brow furrowed in concentration. Emma lets her hand fall, moving back a step to give Regina the semblance of space. There's a slight puff of purple smoke and Emma squints hard, trying to make out anything about the image, but the smoke fades away, leaving her with nothing but Regina's frustrated face.

"I can't. The magic's not strong enough without his things. And like I keep telling you, this is a world without magic."

She sounds so defeated, but all Emma can hear are those same words from the mine. Not strong enough. But maybe we are.

Emma reaches out and grabs Regina's hands, catching her eye and nodding. "Try again."

"Is this going to be your answer for everything?" Regina demands, tugging her hands from Emma's. "Manhandling me into producing magic whenever you think you can jumpstart me? Because while it may have escaped your notice, I am not a broken down Oldsmobile."

"It's called trying to help, Regina. Or have you forgotten that our kid is out there, suffering God knows what, and we don't have the first clue how to find him?"

"Of course I haven't," Regina growls, her voice more sad than threatening. "Oh, fine," she relents, extending one hand to grab Emma's wrist, and not gently either. "There's still no guarantee that-"

But the purple smoke is much stronger this time, light glowing within it as it forms a cloud between them.

"We're doing it!" Emma can't help shouting it over the hissing sound of the smoke. She sees Henry and her knees buckle. He's awake, moving, but there's blood just over his left eye.

Regina's grip on her wrist tightens, her nails biting into Emma's flesh. "Focus."

Emma forces herself to stay upright, to focus on the cloud of smoke and taking in every possible detail about Henry and his surroundings. It's all rather hazy, except Henry himself, their combined effort focusing so much on him that everything else seems irrelevant. Besides the blood, there is a bruise blossoming under his left eye as well. Emma will be more than happy to give a matching bruise to whoever it is that dared to raise a hand to Henry, but for now, she shifts her focus, taking in the blurred background.

There are what appear to be some shipping crates stacked up behind Henry, as well as some pieces of old, rusted out equipment. She looks for any names or logos, anything to give them a hint on Henry's location and finally finds something just as the image flickers and fades.

"No. No!" She gasps, squeezing Regina's hands tightly. "Come on. Come back. I need - come on!"

Regina sways on her feet and releases her grip on Emma. "Enough. I can't make it work anymore."

Emma looks at her and sees just how drained she looks. Working magic in a land where it isn't supposed to exist can take its toll, and even though Emma wants to push, wants to keep going, keep using every ounce of strength they have until they know where Henry is, she also knows that she can't. What they have now will have to be enough. She can't risk Regina, not when she's the only person Emma's got left. "Okay. Okay."

Regina looks at Emma then, her eyes glassy. "He's hurt."

"He's alive." Emma assures. "And we're going to go get him."

"How? We don't even know where he is."

"Not yet. But we will." Emma heads for the door, already pulling another hundred out of their stash.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting access to a computer. There was a name on one of those old shipping crates behind Henry. We find out where they have warehouses in the city, we found out where to start looking."

"It's that simple?"

"No, but it's a start," Emma bites back. "Now come on, we need to get new clothes, too."

They pick their way carefully over the uneven ground, bricks and rotting wood scattered haphazardly everywhere Regina tries to step. After a Google search of the company name Emma had seen, she'd been convinced that the abandoned shipping warehouse on the docks of Pier 21 was where Greg was holding Henry. Regina hadn't been able to argue as she'd been unable to peel her eyes away from Henry for even a second to take in any other details of his surroundings. His face, with the messy bangs and bruised eye and bloody forehead, had been the only thing that mattered to her.

She supposes that she should be thankful that Emma managed to spot the other details, but it's difficult to be thankful about any of this as she nearly stumbles once again. She feels ungainly in the cheap sneakers Emma insisted were necessary, along with darker clothes made of cheap and scratchy fabrics that didn't exist back in the Enchanted Forest; it's the first time in years that Regina has actually missed the place.

"Any sign?" Regina asks, as Emma pulls her behind a wall of debris that barely hits shoulder height for them.

"Not yet. You really don't have any idea what this bastard wants with Henry? What he might be doing here?"

"No," Regina snaps.

"You're lying."

"Ah, the Savior's famed superpower. Tell me, has it ever actually worked?"

"Worked fine when you told me you loved Henry, my first full day in Storybrooke." Emma is casual at delivering the blow, but her eyes flash with victory as it lands, Regina too tired and raw to attempt hiding the effect.

"How dare you?" She grunts after a moment. She could plead and reason and explain herself, Regina knows that, but it's much more satisfying to grab Emma's ridiculously blonde hair and yank, hard.

"Oh yeah, come at me. That's gonna help," Emma says as she pulls out of Regina's vindictive hold on her.

"You still doubt that I love him?" Regina is angry at Emma now, because being angry at people she can't see and insult and lunge at is too unsatisfying, but this burns hot and immediate. "After all we've already been through? After last night, you still doubt how much I love Henry?"

"No," Emma mutters. "I'm sorry. It was a cheap shot because I'm tired and cold and halfway out of my mind. I've never had anyone to worry about like this. I've never felt anything this strong before, and it's pretty awful."

"It is. And I don't know what Owen… Greg… wants. But I do fear that his only goal is to hurt me. I let him believe that I killed his father…"

"Did you?"

"A queen doesn't like to get her hands dirty."

"You had Graham do it," Emma surmises, that mind of hers so quick when it comes to understanding wrong. "But you weren't queen then. You were the Mayor."

"Since I came to this world, I've always been both. And I didn't order him to do it. I simply removed the restraints from his own desire to kill, and gave it an outlet."

"I think we should stop talking about this," Emma says after an uneasy moment where the conversation hangs in the balance, an invisible hinge seeming to squeak under the weight of their silence.

"Because you'll remember who I really am? And who've you've joined forces with?"

"No," Emma answers, darting around the wall of trash. "Because I've just seen what I'm pretty sure is a signal. Up there, look!"

"I don't see- oh. A mirror! Reflecting the sun," Regina seizes on the glimmer of hope like a starving woman suddenly dragged before a banquet.

"See? He really is your kid," Emma points out. "I hope he's taking time between flashes to lace some apples with strychnine, too."

"In the absence of a sleeping curse, yes, that would do."

Emma looks around, and Regina's struck by the shrewd expression as she surveys the landscape around them. The fence they pushed through is not the only broken part of this place, and rusted vehicles litter concrete that's cracked and populated by weeds. When Emma makes a move, she's not a hunter. She's prey looking for a safe route through, someone looking to avoid arrows, or in this world, bullets. It's quietly impressive, even if Regina refuses to tell her so.

"Wait here," Emma instructs once they're closer to the building where the mirror still flashes every minute or so. Regina looks at the rusted construction crane in disgust, not willing to lay a hand on it.

"Like hell." Regina folds her arms over her chest, defiant.

"I'm not ditching you. You're lookout. I need to get close enough to see what we're dealing with: if the place is rigged, if they've got help in there. And recon is much safer when it's a one person job."

"Or you're leaving me here to make sure you look like the hero."

Emma looks wounded by the accusation. Even now, she wears the Savior title like a prisoner's chain around her neck. "First of all, I'm not that petty. You want the glory of being shot at by kidnappers and torturers? Be my guest. But you've never cased a joint in your life, have you?"

Regina hesitates, before shaking her head.

"Right. And I'm not getting myself or Henry killed because you think this is after-school club and it's important that everyone gets a turn. I know what I'm doing."

"Pretty proud of yourself for a common criminal," Regina accuses, dragging the toe of her sneaker through the broken dirt at her feet.

"Hey, until Neal came along and screwed things up, I was a pretty good one." Emma looks embarrassed, shoving her hands in the pockets of the cheap, black hoodie that hangs much too loose on her.

"So, go. Case, scout, whatever you call it. But find us a way in there, quickly."

"This isn't really time to get impatient, Regina." Emma is already in motion, even as she issues the warning.

"You say that like I have a choice," Regina answers, but she's talking to herself.

She watches Emma scurry across the industrial wasteland, the smell of briny water mixing with grease and decay. Regina thinks of the grand ports she visited as Queen, collecting new spells and leveraging favors from other rulers. Jefferson had been at her side, a surly and reluctant tour guide. Here, no dragons block the weak sun overhead with their beating wings, but jet streams streak the sky behind the planes that rise and fall around what she has to assume is Logan.

Regina always intended to travel in this world, once she tested the effectiveness of her curse. Something held her in Storybrooke, though, some irrational fear that the curse would weaken or break in her absence, and when the chaos of single motherhood took over her life, Regina pushed the notion aside entirely. It's a waste, she realizes now. To have had the freedom she sought for so long, and remain a captive just the same. Perhaps if she'd taken Henry on adventures and broadened his world, he would never have looked so closely at the town around him, or sought out his curse-breaking birth mother.

Circling the dilapidated building, Emma considers the twisted metal of a broken fire escape for a moment, before ducking behind the safety of more boxes. Thoroughness Regina didn't expect, but it seems they won't be charging the building unprepared, even though her feet are itching to do exactly that, and near-dormant magic itches in her fingertips as it's battered by the non-magical world they're in. It's a flickering flame trying to withstand a stiff breeze, and Regina swallows her nervousness at going into battle without it. Dressed in a gray sweater and jeans that were stolen from an unlocked motel room three along from their own, her only weapon is a switchblade jammed in her pocket.

It doesn't take long for Emma to disappear into the debris, invisible to Regina's watchful eye. Every so often the mirror flashes, the gaps lengthening suggest that Henry fears someone inside will notice. Regina wishes fervently that she could send a signal in response, but the depth of the emotion starts to charge her magic, and it makes her hands seize painfully. Forcing herself to calm, she looks for Emma again.

Nothing.

Lookouts can move, she decides. Her guards would rotate around the castle battlements, and that's excuse enough for Regina to follow in their stead. She'll take the opposite direction, do some scouting of her own. And if she finds a way to Henry first? A way to finally be the hero in his eyes? Well. Maybe she'll just take it.

"Maura, you're staying in the car for this one."

Despite the gruff concern that underlies Jane's words, Maura bristles at the condescension. After all these years, it still rankles to not be one of Jane's 'guys', to contribute only in the sterile confines of the lab and not the physical pursuit and capture. Last month, checking on Lt. Kavanaugh after Paddy's sentencing, Maura had brought up the subject of getting an official BPD firearms certification. Despite her careful argument about the dangers of field work and being a public figure most criminals could identify, he'd treated her suggestion as a joke. "Good one, doc," he'd said, face red with laughter. "That way you can just shoot each stiff down there and we'll know the cause of death right away. That might be bad for our stats, though."

"I could stay to the rear of the formation," Maura suggests, eager not to be left behind.

"Not in those shoes," Jane shoots her down, checking her ammunition and her phone battery.

"I have running shoes in the trunk. And I studied Boston's shipping trade intensively just a few years ago, so I could help with-"

"We're looking for kidnappers, not pirates."

"The term pirate is historically ambiguous. Many of the men who sailed ships from here on raiding and plundering missions could be more correctly described as privateers. They may have been committing crimes, but they were committing them on the instruction of leaders and politicians who hadn't yet formed any kind of naval force."

"Right. Maura, I gotta go. Wait here, and I'll call you if we can't wait for a medic."

"You think they'll hurt him?"

"They already killed one kid, so I'm not ruling anything out. But I'm damned if they're gonna get another one because I blew the approach."

With that, Jane is out of the car, thumping the roof in some unconscious ritual or superstition that Maura can't claim to understand, but it's comforting all the same. It's the same thing Jane would do leaving her partner in the car. Maura watches in the side view mirror as Jane joins up with Frost, Frankie and Korsak, issuing directions with sharp jerks of her head and those deliberate finger motions that recall one of the coaches in the sports Jane makes Maura watch.

Maura smiles.

Jane puts herself down often, describing herself as somehow limited and simple to understand. Instead she's a deep and sometimes unfathomable person, whose natural intelligence isn't subject to the books read or classes attended. Of all the sides Maura sees of Jane each day, Jane in this committed and commanding mode may well be her favorite. Despite the danger, and the rational fear that results, something almost elemental in Jane seems to thrive, the adrenaline and confidence fuelling her.

It serves to remind Maura that days like these hang in the balance, thanks to Casey's ultimatum disguised as a proposal. Although Maura isn't personally familiar with that particular courtship ritual, she can see the weight of the decision on Jane's shoulders, and Casey being called back to Washington for a colleague's funeral has bought a couple of days that Jane doesn't seem to want.

What puzzles Maura most of all is the tension in her own chest every time she thinks about it. She's tried to rationalize it as fear of change; her own inflexibility is perceived as a flaw by others even when the order of her life is soothing. Since Jane announced the ultimatum at the retirement home, Maura has found her sleep disrupted and her focus wandering at inopportune moments, the restlessness in her system feels almost like the unease before an extreme weather event. Extra yoga isn't helping, and if it persists she may need to request a prescription.

Looking around at the broken glass and discarded packaging, fresh and not rain-soaked or discolored, Maura is reminded that nothing in a busy city is ever truly abandoned, even when industry and wealth retreat. She gets out of the car (next to it is approximately equal to the operational benefit of remaining in it and frankly, Jane can be too bossy for her own good) and frowns at a discarded syringe by the front tire. Maura is reaching for her latex gloves and a bag to dispose of it when there's a flash of movement in her peripheral vision. Blonde, her brain registers. Ignoring the syringe, Maura closes the car door gently and moves around the vehicle in an improvised squat, the running shoes in the trunk seeming more practical by the second.

Peering over the hood, the flash of blonde appears once more, closer this time and moving around the large warehouse that dominates this part of the landscape. The car is parked behind some ramshackle fencing, invisible to the woman moving gradually towards Maura's location, and when the blonde comes in to view it confirms Maura's initial, unfounded suspicion that she's staring at none other than Emma Swan. Although her clothes have changed in the last few hours and her hair is under a cap, the eye-catching ponytail still hangs down her back. If she were trained in undercover work, like Jane, Emma might know better and pull the hair up under her cap or hide it under her jacket.

The emotional duress may be affecting her attention to detail, Maura surmises, because according to the Rizzolis, Emma was quite successful in her days of tracking criminals for profit. Still, her reappearance has sparked a fresh surge of curiosity in Maura, it's a powerful need to know that she hasn't experienced since her first encounter with a dead body, over thirty years ago. Whatever science or technology Regina exposed Maura to earlier has captured her imagination in such an exciting way that she almost feels giddy from thinking about it. To think that there might be entire strata of science yet to be uncovered and explored is intoxicating.

The ache to know more is a part of her, just as Frost pounces on every new gadget to understand its workings, or Korsak befriends every animal they encounter within minutes. Yes, Emma Swan knows what Regina Mills is capable of, and although Maura harbors some doubts about Emma's educational level, she is very much Maura's best chance of finding out more. From an operational standpoint, Maura can always excuse the interference as stopping a civilian from walking into Jane's investigation of the premises.

Weighing the risk, Maura stands up in her once immaculate Balenciaga heels and darts across the waste ground to sneak up behind Emma, grabbing her arm just in time to prevent Emma pulling away. And yes, maybe a tiny bit of her motivation, if Maura were forced to analyze and answer to another person, is that some part of her is jealous of this woman who can waltz in and out of Jane's life. That their friendship persisted even during the time Maura has known her without so much as a mention, feels unfair. Maura has come to include Jane as a reference for almost everything significant in her life, even when reading journal articles she mines them for relevant pieces of information to make them of interest to her best friend. After all, Jane might have this Emma, but she knows everything about Maura's life, right down to her awkwardness in making friends and dating. Somehow, Emma feels like a threat to that happy balance, even moreso than Casey and his guilt-tinged talk of matrimony.

"Swan," Maura hisses, hearing an impersonation of Jane's toughness creep into her voice. Emma deflates visibly on recognition, although she reels around with fists raised, the stance falters when she sees Maura.

"Dr. Isles," she sighs. "Let me guess, Riz is right behind you?"

"There's no one behind me," Maura corrects, risking a glance to make sure. "But I would think you'd be pleased the BPD has tracked Henry to the same location as you obviously have."

"You want to let me go?" Emma tries. "I'd hate to have to drop you, doc, but I'm kind of on a mission."

"We need to talk, first," Maura insists. "We should move behind these crates, if you're worried about visibility."

"Let me go and we talk. But the moment we're done, I'm going to get my kid."

"Deal," Maura agrees. "Are you spies? CIA operatives make frequent use of localized explosives, although the purple smoke seems counterintuitive from a discretion standpoint."

"You really talk like that all the time, huh?" Emma moves behind the crates, ready to bolt at any moment. "I don't know how Jane keeps up with all the big words."

"Jane is highly intelligent," Maura retorts, instantly on the defensive. "And while her vocabulary is reflective of her background most of the time-"

"Whoa, I was just kidding. When I rag on Riz, it's just for fun."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Trust me. You don't want me to."

"Why would I ask if I didn't want an answer?" Maura is aware she's demanding, but it seems that Emma will slip away at any moment.

"I have to get to my kid," Emma groans. "Are you gonna move? Or am I gonna have to make you?"

"Only person making her do anything is me," Tamara says, emerging from behind a hunk of rusted metal that might once have been a truck. She has two handguns raised, one trained on Emma and the other on Maura. "You should have kicked her ass and run when you had the chance, Emma."

"Fuck you," Emma spits, pulling her own gun. "I already beat the shit out of you once, I'll do it again."

"Try it and I'll shoot her, just like I shot Neal."

"You heartless bitch."

"Sounds more like Regina. Surprised you didn't bring her along for your failed mission."

Maura looks at Emma, but her face betrays nothing.

"I told you before, he's my kid. And if you hurt him, I won't need anyone's help to end you. I'll rip your heart out myself. And trust me, it'll hurt a hell of a lot worse than if Regina did it."

"So touching," Tamara drawls, as Maura wonders why exactly Emma is mentioning Regina in the context of ripping out hearts. She doesn't look like a butcher, or a surgeon for that matter. "Move! If this one's a cop, you're both dead."

"I'm not a police officer," Maura explains, relieved at not having to lie.

"Then move. Head for that corner, there. Door's behind that aluminum sheeting. Don't make me ask again."

"I haven't heard you ask yet." Emma spits, every bit as defiant as Jane would be. Maura wants to smile at the sheer familiarity, but she also knows how often Jane's temper leads to gunshots and punches that don't need to be inflicted.

"We're cooperating," Maura says quietly, laying a hand on Emma's forearm to halt any last-ditch attempts at violence. They just need to stay safe until Jane and her team can come for them.

"Stay tight, Frankie!" Jane hisses as he skirts too far around the far corner of the warehouse. He holds a hand up in acknowledgment, pulling tighter to the wall. "Frost, anything on your side?" She directs that to her sleeve, the handsfree kit improvising as a Secret Service style mic at Frost's suggestion.

"I think I got movement," he whispers. "I'm gonna follow it up."

"Slow and steady," Jane urges. "We don't want to spook anyone, okay?"

"Jane!" Korsak calls quietly. "Up there, you see what I see?"

"What?"

"Wait for it… there. That's a deliberate flash, right?"

"It's not Morse Code," Jane says, eyes trained on the broken window that the light flickered at.

"We're dealing with a kid, Jane. If he's just trying to get attention, it's possible he's not thinking straight. Or he's never had cause to learn it. Not everybody was weirdly obsessed with kidnap and crime as a kid."

"Thanks, Korsak." Jane rolls her eyes, but watches as the flash comes again. "Definitely deliberate. Looks like we found our kid." She lifts her sleeve to update Frost, when she glimpses the movement off to her left.

"Freeze." She hisses, her gun trained on Regina before she even realizes who is standing there. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"Detective." Regina draws herself together like they're at one of Maura's insufferable cocktail parties, despite the Contempo Casuals look she's currently rocking. "Before you say anything, I have reason to believe-"

"Yeah, we think he's in here, too," Jane cuts her off. "So we're gonna deal with that before we get into purple smoke tricks and you guys bailing on me earlier. Where's Emma hiding? Swan, get out here so I can kick your ass real quick!"

"Much as I would like to watch that, Miss Swan is not with me right now. And I don't have any popcorn, anyway."

"Where the hell is she then?" Jane huffs, already knowing the answer by the way Regina's eyes flick to the building for just a second. "No. Even Emma's not that freakin' stupid."

"I beg to differ." Regina smirks. "However, in this case, she wasn't being stupid. She was trying to find our son."

"Damn it." Jane lets the gun drop, while she raises her sleeve. "Frost, Emma's gone after Henry too. Try to cut her off before she gets herself killed."

"Too late, Jane. I got eyes on one of the suspects marching her through a side entrance. Looks like they had some debris pulled over it. And uh, Jane?"

"Tell me she's not hurt," Jane insists.

"No, she's walking fine. But she's not alone. I can't get a clear shot at what looks like Tamara because someone else is in my line."

"She got Henry already?" Regina gasps, her eyes lighting up.

"Is it the kid?" Jane asks, her mind already working on ways to get them both out of dodge.

"No. Jane, it's - well -"

She doesn't need him to say it. She knows and she feels her gut clench along with her teeth. "I told her to stay in the car! Son of a bitch!"

"Maura's in there too?" Korsak groans. "She'll be fine, Jane. She's learned enough by now to keep her head down."

"I'd love to believe that. But if I've learned anything over the years, it's that when you're with Emma Swan, it's impossible to keep your head down." Jane sighs, her eyes boring into Regina. "We're going in there and we're getting them out. You are staying here, because so help me god, if I have to deal with one more civilian screwing up my investigation, I'll shoot all of you myself. You got that?"

"Then shoot me," Regina says, moving with surprising speed away from them and towards a banged up door that Frankie just scoped out a few minutes before. "Because that's the only thing that will keep me from Henry. And even then, you'd better shoot to kill."

With that, she yanks the door open in a shriek of hinges and cloud of dust, disappearing into the building with Jane and her team having no choice but to follow. "So much for good police work", Jane grumbles to herself as she steps into the cold and drafty space. But the thought of Maura anywhere near another madman (and possible madwoman) with a gun is enough to get her moving quickly through the shadows.

"Up here," Tamara barks, shoving one gun in the small of Emma's back when they approach a black iron staircase that looks one more layer of rust away from complete collapse.

"Are you taking us to Henry?"

"I'm taking you to Greg. Then we're going to deal with you before our boss comes to get Henry."

That does it. Guns be damned, Emma launches herself backwards off the stairs, tackling Tamara in the fall. Emma holds her breath for a startled shot to go off, for hot lead to hit her in the kidneys, but there's just a 'whoosh' of air being knocked from both their bodies as they land on the dusty floor.

"Emma!" Maura's startled voice rings out, but then there are heavy footsteps on the metal stairs, and a squeak as Greg gets hold of her.

"Who's this?" Greg asks. Although Emma pushes clear of Tamara first, there's a gun pointed at her chest before she can draw her own again. Even on the floor, Tamara is a threat, and she's slowly picking herself up.

Maura looks petrified and Emma knows that Jane's going to kill her if they ever get out of this mess. Just as she's about to mumble an apology to Maura, Greg lashes out, and judging by the way Maura falls it's a kick to the back of her knees.

Bastard.

Maura falls hard, no one to break her fall as she tumbles those few steps in her heels, no hope of bracing in her fitted dress and blazer. The dust rises up around her and Greg keeps his rifle trained on her the whole time, even as she rolls over to reveal bloodied knees and deep scrapes on her hands that are already dripping blood on the ground. Her hair has fallen in her face, so Emma can't tell if there's another wound where Maura's head hit the ground, but at least she's conscious.

"I think Tamara told you to come upstairs, Sheriff," Greg says, in that weirdly babyish voice he has. Emma should have let Whale nick a couple of extra organs and had the bastard bleed out on the table. If Greg's done to Henry what he just did to Maura, or worse, that other kid… Emma squeezes her eyes shut for a moment at the thought. Well. It ends any debate she's had over the past year about whether or not she could kill someone other than self-defense. For the first time, she thinks she might understand Regina's particularly dangerous flavor of anger.

In another act of defiance, she moves to Maura, helping her get to her feet and glancing over her, checking for other injuries, before she starts back up the stairs.

"We're coming, okay? Can't blame a girl for trying to escape, Greg."

"Don't wiseass me," he warns, blocking their way for a moment. Emma wants to spit in his face. "You're just as bad as Regina."

Emma laughs then, the sound escaping her lips reminiscent of the woman she desperately hopes is still outside, giving them some kind of backup plan. "Oh Greg," she leans close, "you have no idea."

Her head jerks back at the force of his slap, but she still just laughs, even as blood trickles down from the corner of her mouth. She'll do anything to buy Henry more time, haven't these idiots worked that out by now? If they're hitting her, they're not laying a finger on him, and she's already inside their stupid, crumbling Batcave. It's a hell of a lot more promising than even just a few hours ago, and Emma feels like her parents for thinking it, but there might just be a glimmer of hope here.

"Come on, Maura," she says, having spit some blood out of her mouth onto Greg's shoes, enough to talk. Giving away surnames and titles is not a good idea right now, because anyone who hurts kids on the regular might just recognize the name of the Commonwealth's Chief Medical Examiner. Titles like that get your name in the newspaper a whole lot. "Let's go see Henry, huh?"

Maura nods in reply, too shaken to speak it seems. Emma offers a sympathetic glance, but Greg is in motion and Tamara is right behind them so there's no chance to linger, or to formulate any kind of plan. They march up the rest of the stairs into what clearly used to be some kind of office, with a view down over some dry docks on the other side.

"Where's my kid?" Emma demands.

"What, you thought we were just gonna hand him over because you caught up to us?" Tamara asks with a snort. "You think this is some company paintball game, where you captured our flag so we just roll over?"

"I mean it," she warns, tensing for another blow and not caring where it comes from. "I want to see him, right now."

"Look a little harder," Greg suggests. "There's an open doorway right there."

Emma edges closer, trying not to gulp too loudly at the very steep and sudden drop where there used to be some kind of walkway outside the office. The frame remains, but almost all of the boards have rotted away.

"Uh uh," Greg continues, getting way too close for Emma's liking. He tuts under his breath, like she's a kindergartener who refuses to color in the lines. "Think more like Rapunzel's prince, hmm? You gotta look…"

"Up," Emma finishes, doing exactly that.

The echoes in such a large and empty space distort the sound, and although the words make no sense as they overlap and fade, it's creepy as hell when they seem to come from all around them as Jane grabs Regina back and takes over leadership of their impromptu patrol.

They come across Emma and Maura just in time to see Emma's semi-spectacular backwards jump, and Jane is ready to send in reinforcements when Mendell appears. Two guns, at least, makes the scene too unpredictable and so Jane signals a stand down.

Then Mendell kicks out at Maura and it takes the combined force of Frankie grabbing her around the waist and Regina's arm shooting out over her chest to hold Jane back. That's a cheap, punkass move and he is gonna wish he didn't have any legs left when she gets done with him, that is for damn sure.

"Wait," Regina murmurs. "You told us back at the door that nobody moves until we know for sure where they're holding Henry."

"Just let me…" Jane says through gritted teeth, squirming to get free. She relents at last when Emma helps pick Maura up, and at least she's not too badly hurt to walk up the stairs again.

"If your feelings for that woman are going to put my son in jeopardy…" Regina rounds on Jane the minute Frankie lets go, backing her against a wall where they lurk in the shadows. "I won't have his safety compromised."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jane demands in a whisper, ignoring the look between Frankie and Korsak. "She's my best friend, but that won't stop me getting your kid back in one piece."

"Good," Regina says, letting go of Jane's jacket where she's been clutching the lapels. "That's all I ask."

"You're one to talk," Jane adds, in another angry whisper as she pushes off the wall. "Seems to me you're not exactly hating all this time one-on-one with Swan. Last I checked, that apartment of hers only has one bed."

"How dare you!" Regina hisses, but Korsak steps between them, stopping whatever else she was going to say.

"Why don't you ladies continue this after we rescue Henry and stop the bad guys, huh?" Frankie adds softly, and Jane can see the warning in his eyes. She looks down, ashamed for just a second that her little brother has to be the voice of reason, before she nods.

"Let's go."

They step carefully on the stairs, guns raised again, Regina in the middle of their formation as Frost joins their group with a nod to Jane. If nothing else they now know at least two different ways in and out of the building.

"I requested backup," Frost tells Frankie, and Jane sighs in relief. "But it might not be that quick, out here."

There's conversation going on in the large room Emma and Maura have been led into, and with a full group again, Jane pushes Regina aside and lets Frost and Frankie take point, crouching on either side of the door that's only slightly ajar. She and Korsak take up secondary positions, and with a three-count, she gives the go.

"Hands up!" Frankie yells as Frost follows with a "Freeze!"

Greg and Tamara both turn with weapons raised, and when Mendell twitches his finger, Jane doesn't think twice. He has a bullet in his shoulder before she can second-guess herself, and it's enough to make him drop the rifle, at least. Tamara considers, both guns raised, but with three trained on her, she relents and drops them to the ground before placing her hands on the back of her head.

"Jane!" Maura exclaims at the sight of her.

"Maura!"

"Emma?" Regina's question is desperate, and the fact that she's saying that name instead of Henry's is what tips Jane off to the one very obvious thing that's missing from this little reunion.

"Henry." It's that word, the way it falls from Emma's mouth, not in relief, but horror, that stops them all.

"You got eyes on Henry?" Jane demands, moving past Mendell to where Emma is standing by a gap in the wall.

"He's up there," Emma points, her arm weak, and Regina rushes to look before Jane can get a chance. When they look out, they see Henry suspended from a pulley, high above them all in the middle of the huge space. Under him isn't just floor, but the deep dry docks, concrete basins big enough to clean and maintain pretty big ships in. The sheer height of it is making Jane dizzy, and it's not even her kid up there.

Greg lets out a laugh and begins to chant, in that creepy baby voice that makes Jane's blood run cold. "All the Queen's horses… and all the Queen's men… couldn't put Henry together again."

"Get him down from there!" Regina snarls, launching herself at the injured felon like a wild animal. She's scratching at his face, half an inch from a full-on eye gouge when Jane pulls her away, still kicking and punching at the air.

"Regina!" Jane yells at her. "Don't make me cuff you. Mendell, you tell us how to get that kid down from that goddamn rope, and you tell us now."

Jane realizes a second too late that they're all standing around trying to either contain Regina or find the end of the rope that is connected to the pulley, and somewhere in the mess they forgot Containment of a Suspect 101.

There's a sickening crack of bone, and Frankie drops to his knees, arm gone limp where Tamara has snapped his wrist and taken his gun. Frost reacts before Jane can, but Tamara's kick knocks his gun out through the door and clattering down on the floor far below. Her follow up slams Frost into the wall, and he's out cold from the second his head makes impact. With his assailant pulled off him, Mendell pulls a handgun from inside his coat, before pointing it at the struggling Regina.

"Korsak!" She shouts, pushing Regina away from Mendell to buy a moment or two when Jane lets her go to raise her gun in defense. "Which one you got, Vince?"

"Jane," he gasps, his voice weak off to her right hand side. He's slumped in a half-broken office chair, gun hanging loosely in his left hand. He's clutching the top of his left arm and Jane wants to cry at the sight. She has to focus, has to get them all out of here. So with the quickest pat of his arm, she grabs his gun and passes it to Regina.

"Don't shoot anyone unless they're about to kill you," Jane orders, and Tamara is pacing in her conquered corner of the space like she'll be happy to oblige. "Swan! You brought your own gun, right?"

She turns slightly to confirm, surprised Emma hasn't faded in with fists flying like Regina just did. Only the gap in the wall where Emma stood watching Henry is empty, and Jane groans as she works out what comes next. Emma Swan is part freaking monkey when it comes to climbing, and Jane only has to glance out into the main warehouse to confirm the blonde lunatic is already pulling herself up some rope to get to the rotting gangway behind Henry.

"You're gonna break your neck!" Jane shouts out after her, but she has to keep her attention on the room full of kidnappers and the look in Regina's eyes is making Jane think she might have been safer wielding a second gun in her weaker hand. There's no response from Emma but the metallic creaking of whatever that rope is attached to.

"You're too late," Mendell says, still slumped on the ground, but active enough to have his gun pointed directly at Regina's chest. Tamara has Frankie's gun trained on Jane, and there are still two more on the floor that could end up in play. This is a goddamned mess. "I hope the boss lets me do you, Regina. I've waited such a long time."

"You two have a history?" Jane demands, nodding at Maura who's behind the cabinets and edging her way back to the door behind Tamara on her hands and knees. If at least one of them can get out, there's no way these two crooks will risk giving chase. It might be enough to bring backup straight in and get them all out alive.

Jane looks at Korsak, he's even paler now, and the sweat is visible on his face. Frankie is groaning on the floor, but he might rally enough to grab one of those spare guns, if Jane buys him a little time. Frost is still out cold, and it has to be a concussion, Jane won't let herself consider anything worse. Right now she's kind of glad she can't ask Maura about traumatic brain injuries.

"Not really," Regina answers after a moment. "Who's your boss, Owen?"

The room darkens suddenly, as though storm clouds have gathered over the mostly-glass roof and walls.

"He's here," Tamara says, momentarily distracted and smiling at Mendell. Jane considers a shot, dropping her at least, but Tamara focuses again before Jane can aim and shoot.

There's a whooshing noise then, like a wave rushing, but indoors. Jane doesn't want to risk looking away from her suspects, but there's something about the darkness that makes her glance back over her shoulder. Emma's only just reaching the shaky platform, leveraging herself off the rope. Henry, further along and bound by his own rope, is swinging helplessly way up in the air.

"Emma!" Jane calls out, because something is seriously wrong here. She can feel it in her gut. Maura is almost at the door when Jane looks back, but Tamara notices in the nick of time, and grabs Maura by the hair, pulling her roughly to her feet.

"Who's your boss?" Regina asks again, gun still pointing at Mendell like she knows what she's doing, but her voice has gone all shaky.

"You've met before," Greg says. "He was very interested to hear that you're Henry's mother. He's the one we want, but you… you could be useful in other ways."

"No," Regina says, as the room dims even further. "No! No! Leave him alone, don't you touch him!" She's screaming now, seemingly at the air around them. Jane wants to offer a steadying hand, but she can't risk it.

She's just about to start negotiating with Mendell when they all hear it: the sound of shattering windows, glass spraying down around them. Darkness seems to seep inside the building and her mind can't comprehend why darkness is all of a sudden some physical thing that she can reach out and touch.

Just as Jane tries to wrap her mind around that, the dark is punctuated by the horrible slow, shriek of metal giving way, overlapped by a little boy's scream.

Which really, must be as bad as this fucked up situation can get, Jane thinks. And that's when the shooting starts.