Warnings: passing reference to neglect and domestic abuse.

Emma woke to the sound of heavy knocking on her door. With a groan she rolled out of the unfamiliar bed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she yawned. The room was still mostly dark, heavy curtains only allowing a sliver of sunlight in to illuminate the space, and Emma felt around for the door knob before tugging it open.

The light from the hallway was much brighter than Emma had been prepared for, and it took great effort for her to open her eyes. As she finally blinked open she saw Granny standing with her hands on her hips. "Rise and shine, girl! Everyone else is already downstairs for breakfast." She looked past Emma to where Henry was still sound asleep. Lowering her voice a bit, she asked, "How are both of you doing?"

Emma groaned as the entirety of the previous night rushed back to her. "No better than can be expected, then?" She crossed her arms. "Well, take a moment, but don't dawdle. You may not have noticed, but there are quite a few people here that are mighty anxious to see you again." Leaning in conspiratorially, she added, "I had to stop more than one of them from waking you at sunrise."

Furrowing her brow at the unfamiliar idea of there being people—besides Henry, of course—waiting for her, Emma leaned against the door frame. "OK," she said, and Granny turned around with a wink. "Wait, Granny?" She grunted in acknowledgment as she turned back. "Everything that happened yesterday, I'm actually supposed to believe that it's all real? Magic and fairy tales and Henry and I losing our memories?"

Granny crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back, looking at Emma over her nose. "From what I heard, you came through to the Forest as Snow was fighting a wraith, you saw a man healed before your eyes, and saw a prince almost get roasted in the damn dining room." Her eyes twinkled. "What more proof do you need, girl?"

Emma couldn't help the smile that broke across her lips as she laughed gently, the whole situation still too surreal to truly process. "When you put it like that…" Granny smiled back at her before turning toward the stairs. "Hey, if you're all fairy tale characters—"

"Red Riding Hood's grandmother," she turned back, looking both proud and hesitant.

Emma wrinkled her nose, having a hard time reconciling this tough-as-nails woman with the image of a frightened old lady hiding from a wolf. "Like with the basket?"

Granny barked with laughter. "Don't ask Ruby that." She turned again to head toward the stairs, but stopped at the last moment. "I know you don't remember, but you sure made an impact on us before," she waved at Emma's head, "you know. And whether they can send you back or not, you should know that every damn person in this castle would put their lives on the line to protect you and Henry.

"So don't do anything stupid or rash," she leveled Emma with a knowing look, "got it?" Feeling thoroughly scolded for an infraction she hadn't even made, Emma bit back the defensive words on her tongue and nodded. "Good. Now get going before David eats all the bacon."

After waking Henry up, the two had taken turns using the bathroom and changing. Emma, into Regina's borrowed brown pants, a short white tunic, and a russet leather wrap vest, as well as her own lace-up boots. And Henry into tan pants and a purple tunic that Granny had told him were Dopey's—yes, the dwarf, he'd said smiling—both of which were precariously held to him by a thick black belt across his slim waist.

She still had her reservations about the whole—still totally insane—story these people were trying to sell her, but damn if the weird clothes and the way-too-scratchy shirt weren't helping to convince her. Because, really, who wore this kind of stuff enough to have extras?

Freshly dressed they headed downstairs, fortunately remembering the short path to the dining room. On the stairs, Henry asked, "We're still gonna help them, right?"

Emma looked over. "Second thoughts?"

Henry shook his head fervently. "No way! I'm glad." He smiled at his mother and added, "Thank you."

Emma breathed a heavy sigh. "You know this isn't some book, right, Henry? This is real—apparently—and dangerous." Henry's face darkened at the almost-reprimand, and Emma cracked, her stern face softening. With a small smile, she nudged his shoulder. "And I swear, if you bring a dragon back with us I am not going to be the one to take care of it."

Henry rolled his eyes but his shoulders relaxed as he tugged on the heavy door to the dining room. "I was six! And Mickey was fine."

Emma's eyes widened, point made. "Yeah, because I fed that damn fish every day." Henry walked into the room, Emma following. Snow, Regina, and David all sat around the table, Snow and David as far apart as possible on opposite ends. "Morning," Emma said warily, sensing the tension at the table.

"Emma!" Snow smiled openly, a complete change from her sullen attitude the night before. "Are you two hungry? Granny made us pancakes."

Henry slid into the chair across from Regina and licked his lips. "My favorite!"

Taking the seat next to him, Emma looking into the mug beside her full plate, smelling coffee and warming at the sight.

"Did you sleep well?" Snow asked sweetly.

Emma looked over at her and smiled, nodding. "Thanks." The table was quiet, the tension uncomfortable. Emma gave Henry a comforting smile as he shifted in his own chair, picking up on the thick silence.

Holding up the plate of bacon—Granny wasn't lying when she said they'd better beat David—Emma held it between her and her son, and they each filled their plates before she repeated the action with the pancakes.

Trying not to feel uncomfortable under the heavy stares she felt from the others, Emma smiled politely and looked up to catch Snow's own melancholic smile. Growing up she'd always imagined what it would have been like to have family meals, but, judging by this one she hadn't missed much more than awkward tension and shifty glances.

Clearing her throat gently, Regina set her fork down, and wiped at her lips delicately with a napkin. Picking up her mug of coffee she broke the silence and asked, "How are your classes going, Henry?" Her shoulders were rigid and her knuckles white on the mug, though she spoke lightly, casually.

"It's OK," he munched on a strip of bacon. "I transferred this year so most of the other eight graders have already been together since sixth grade."

Regina shifted in her seat and glanced quickly at Emma before looking back at Henry. "Are you having difficulty making friends, Henry?"

Looking around the room at all of the eyes on him Henry's cheeks pinked. "I have friends," he defended quietly. "I do, just not a lot." Emma rested her hand on his shoulder, squeezing in reassurance.

"Henry's just a quiet kid. But brilliant, aren't you?" She nudged him playfully.

"Ma," he groaned with a smile.

Regina smiled brightly. "I had no doubts. What's your favorite subject this year?" Emma's brows furrowed at the almost ravenous look on Regina's face as she asked about Henry. It went beyond the typical small talk between adults and children, and Regina seemed desperate to know each bit of information.

"English," he smiled, licking his fingers from the syrup he'd gotten on them. "Ms. Michaels says I'm a natural writer." At the bragging tone he paused, looking embarrassed and then shrugged. "But there are a lot of good writers in my class, so it's not that big of a deal."

Regina set her mug down gently. "Henry, you never need to be ashamed of your abilities. I'm sure you're the best writer in your class, your imagination has always been wonderful and your reading abilities are advanced."

With a smile Henry ducked his head, playing with his fork. "Thanks," he held her gaze for a moment. Emma watched Regina, curious at the intensity of her words and the familiarity insinuated in the same. Normally such interest in her son would put her on edge, immediately defensive—and the urge was not entirely absent—but something about this woman's interest didn't seem concerning. In fact, it felt comforting in a way.

"Ma thinks I should enter this creative writing contest at school, but I don't know."

Henry's words pulled her back and she smiled at him, ruffling his hair. "Of course you should, kid. The rest of the school needs to know how great you are. I'm getting sick of being the only one aware of your brilliance." Henry blushed but smiled up at his mother, looking so like the little boy he had been years ago.

"Oh, I'm certain you're not alone," Regina said behind her coffee mug with a small wink to Henry. Looking down at her hands, her hair slipped forward—loose today, and brushing her shoulders—almost hiding the way her lips curled up gently. The haunted look that had been so prevalent yesterday seemed somewhat softened, and she seemed almost comfortable, where she'd been tightly wound the night before.

The room fell quiet again. After a beat, Emma cut her food with the side of her fork and said, "So, I have a question for you." Snow, David, and Regina looked up at her, faces open but wary. "What is with the electricity and plumbing? I thought that was, like, not a thing in fairy tales."

Snow pursed her lips suppressing a smile and Regina poured herself another cup of coffee from the carafe in front of her. "Well, I suppose it's a case of knowing what we hadn't before; tell me, would you go without either after living with them for thirty years?" She smirked, and Emma furrowed her brow.

"Well, no." She looked to the others. "So, what, is it magic?" They all laughed quietly. "Yesterday you were doing everything to convince me that it existed, and today you're laughing at the idea," she said in irritation.

Snow sobered. "Sorry, Emma. But no, this time it's not magic. When we were in Storybrooke we were all given memories of skills—some of us were teachers, doctors, electricians—and we brought those skills back with us," she looked to Regina with a small smile.

"Wait, so how did you all end up in Storybrooke in the first place?" She leaned back. "You know, if this is a different world and all."

Snow opened her mouth to reply, but hesitated. "There was a curse, and it sent everyone over there with no memory of themselves as they'd been here," Regina cut in, watching Emma carefully.

"You broke it, though. When you came to Storybrooke." Snow reached over and took Emma's hand gently as she spoke. "You're the Savior." Emma tensed at the term, and pulled her hand back, squirming in her seat. Just as it had yesterday, the term made her uneasy.

"What the hell does that mean?" Her words were harsher than she intended. "You said it last night," she looked to David, "and that woman, with the big dress, she said the same thing."

"Her name is Blue," Snow started, easily, "and she's the leader of the fairies." Glossing over Emma's skeptical face, she continued. "And it means just what I said: that you broke the curse that brought us to your world. You returned our memories, Emma, and brought us together."

Emma scoffed quietly. "Well if that's not proof you have the wrong girl—"

"It's the truth, Miss Swan." Snapping up at Regina's even, firm tone, Emma sucked in a breath at the intensity of her eyes.

"It is, ma. Killian told me the same thing back home." Henry's face was open, pleading, and he looked so young in that moment, so much like the ten-year-old that had stared up at her in admiration so often.

Emma sighed. "So, you think I can help you with this problem because I'm some savior?"

"Well, actually more because you have magic," David said slowly, looking carefully at his wife. "Powerful magic, in fact. And I was hoping that you'd be able to help them find a way to stop the wraith."

Emma's brows furrowed. "But I thought that's why you have the spell thing to find Merlin. To get him to help you? 'Cause I gotta say, I'm not up on my wraith knowledge." She looked around the table for an answer, and her attention settled on David's uncomfortable frown.

"That's our plan, Emma," Snow answered. "Regina and I have been trying to find this spell to locate him because we only know a few things about the creatures." She looked to Regina and tilted her head slightly. "We know they're vulnerable to fire, so Regina is able to keep them at bay somewhat. And silver can wound them temporarily."

Emma leaned forward. "Like silver arrows?"

Snow nodded. "Exactly. But no one knows how to stop them permanently. None of our methods have been able to slow the wraith for more than a few days at most."

"So what makes you think Merlin can give you some answers? Wraiths don't exactly seem to mix with dancing mops and buckets."

"Ma," Henry groaned, pushing his empty plate back. "He wasn't in Fantasia, you're thinking of Yen Sid."

Emma's face twisted in confusion. "Who?"

"Yen Sid, he's the sorcerer in 'The Sorcerer's Apprentice'." Henry looked at Emma condescendingly. "Merlin is from King Arthur? The story of the sword in the stone, Excalibur, the round table?"

"I thought—" Regina cleared her throat, and when Emma looked over she felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment. "OK, fine. So how does he fit with the wraiths, then?"

"He's the oldest known magic user in our world, or any other." Regina's hands clasped together on the table. "Well, save for the Dark One, though he's been," she bared her teeth in distaste, "missing as of late."

Raising her brows, Emma asked, "Missing? Someone named The Dark One is missing. You sound rather cavalier about that."

Snow smiled gently. "He's not as bad as the title implies," she looked between Emma and Henry reassuringly, but bit her lip at Regina's derisive scoff. "Well, not exactly, anyway. It's a pretty long story."

"OK, so Merlin's super old. You think that means he knows stuff that isn't written down anywhere," she surmised, taking Regina's nod for confirmation. "So you use your spell to find him, and then learn how to stop the wraith-thing." At the lack of response, Emma shrugged her shoulders and looked to David. "So, I guess I don't get how I fit into this plan."

David shifted uncomfortably in his chair and said quietly, "I wasn't certain they would be able to find the spell. I thought maybe your magic would be powerful enough to stop this thing, somehow. The last time we got rid of it, you—"

Emma leaned forward. "Wait, you've dealt with this thing before?" David nodded. "How did you kill it last time?"

"We didn't kill it, Miss Swan. It's an undead creature; you can't kill it." When Emma simply stared at her she licked her lips and continued. "A wraith will only stop searching when it has eliminated its target. When we faced it before, we sent it to another world." With a humorless tilt of her lips, she murmured, "We sent it here, actually."

"And you can't just send it somewhere else?"

"We no longer have any means of travel between worlds, Emma," Snow offered gently. "Besides, to send it somewhere else would be to endanger a whole new population of people."

"But what about the hat Killian used?" Henry asked, looking between the people at the table.

Snow's brows furrowed in confusion. "What hat, Henry?" His face paled as he shut his mouth, assuming he'd said something he shouldn't have. Snow looked past him to David, and repeated, "What hat?"

"It seems your prince has been working with the Hatter behind our backs." Regina said silkily. "Perhaps you should leash him if he's not house-trained, dear." Her eyes sparkled at her own words.

Ignoring Regina, Snow hissed, "I can't believe you, David! What were you thinking?"

Sensing another argument heating up, Emma held her hands out. "Woah, I know I'm new to this whole portal thing, but can we put a pin in this for now? I'm here now, so can we just talk about how we're going to find Merlin and get us back?"

The table focused almost instantly, and David ducked his head a little bashfully from Snow's still-intense gaze. "Fine," Snow said after a long moment.

Biting at her cheek, Emma looked to Regina, who'd been interrupted. "So you can't send it away and you can't kill it, so you need Merlin to tell you how to stop it. Got that. You needed me to help find him, but now you have this spell thing, so you actually don't need my help?"

Regina stilled in her chair, and averted her gaze smoothly, though her jaw seemed to tighten in tension. "I had been planning to cast the spell on my own." Slowly, she continued, "However, since you are here, I suppose it would make sense to allow you to cast with me."

Emma's brows rose as she watched the other woman, who made it sound as though the task would be doing Emma the favor instead of the other way around. With a small laugh she picked up her forgotten fork and cut into her cooling pancakes. "Well, I wouldn't want to get in your way, your Highness," she took a big mouthful, smiling at the way Regina's features darkened.

After a moment of awkward tension, Snow cleared her throat. "Emma, I think it would be a good idea," she said softly, her lips twitching at her own suggestion. "We only have one shot to get this right, and it's the only shot we have right now of getting you home."

Emma's smirk faded at the gentle woman's words, and she licked the syrup from her lips before replying with hesitant shrug. "I don't know," she said. "I don't really have any idea what I'm doing. I wouldn't want to mess it up. Isn't there someone else that can do it? What about the pixie chick from last night?"

Henry snorted. "She's a fairy, weren't you listening?" Emma suppressed the urge to stick her tongue out at him. Know-it-all.

"No, there isn't anyone else," Snow said. "We're somewhat low on magic, these days," she worried her lip. "We have the fairies, but they're running out of fairy dust, and the dwarves have been unable to find any more to mine. There were other magic users, but most of them…died back in Storybrooke, and Regina's power is significantly weaker since the wraith started attacking."

"Watch it," Regina bit out, holding her hand out, a small flame flickering in her palm. Snow looked unimpressed but stopped her explanation. Satisfied, Regina closed her fist and set her hands back on the table.

"Well," Emma said, "that sucks and all, but I still don't think I'd be much help. I mean, I just found out I had magic last night—and, for that matter, that it's even real—so I can't imagine I would really be there for anything more than, like, moral support," she finished with a frown.

"Don't sell yourself short, Emma. Before the curse sent us back here, you were making quite a bit of progress in your lessons," Snow said encouragingly.

"My lessons?" Emma had never exactly been a fan of one-on-one learning, all that pressure focused solely on her. Just the thought made her stressed.

Snow hesitated, speaking carefully. "Yes. Regina was teaching you." Regina's eyes darkened at the statement, and Emma shifted in her chair; there was something oddly sensual about that idea, and her skin prickled with the possible implications.

Maybe no more Buffy reruns for her.

Clearing her throat, Emma tried to refocus. "You were teaching me?" She had a hard time picturing the mostly-cold woman before her as someone she would voluntarily learn from. Though, judging by her expressionless face, Emma wondered if it wasn't just as abhorrent idea for her. Shaking her head a bit to refocus, Emma asked, "So it was something I learned? Like with spell books and potions and stuff?"

"Not exactly," Regina answered, the leather of her gloves brushing together as she interlaced her fingers. Her tone was even, and held none of the distaste she'd just been showing. "Magic is something inherent in certain individuals, generally passed on through a bloodline. Those that possess the ability can use magic, but to use it effectively they must also learn how to control their skills.

"A task you were rather ill-prepared for, I might add." She gave a too-sweet smile that made Emma's eyes narrow. As far as she knew she'd done nothing wrong to this woman—her behavior had even leaned toward something resembling comfort to have her back last night—and yet this wasn't the first insult that had been tossed at her.

The thought made her wonder, not for the first time, what their relationship had been in Storybrooke—not-quite-family friend, biting insults, and clothes sharing didn't exactly go together in a clear qualifier.

"Perhaps my teacher was the problem," she thinned her lips. The smile fell from Regina's lips and turned into something much more honest, and her eyes sparkled with intrigue. The rapidly changing attitudes toward her just added to Emma's confusion about what they had been to each other in Storybrooke.

Breathing out in just a little bit of frustration—raising a son will do wonders for your patience—Emma said, "I still don't think I'd be much help, then. I mean, I was just learning it sounds like and I don't even have those memories to help me now."

Snow smiled knowingly. "You're more powerful than you know, Emma." She looked over at her husband and her face softened. "You're the product of True Love; you can do anything you put your mind to."

Emma grimaced at the sickly-sweet words that fell from Snow's mouth, and felt a small surge of camaraderie when she caught Regina rolling her eyes. "She can light candles on fire, let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Though Emma had thought Snow's words were a bit dramatic, she still bristled at Regina's statement. But something else caught her attention. "Wait, I'm what?"

Snow reached out for Emma's hand. "You're the product of True Love."

Emma laughed uncomfortably. "I'm magical because my parents were in love when they had me?"

David leaned forward, stressing the words but looking between her and Snow. "Not in love, True Love. It's rather rare in our world."

"Really? Disney sure makes it look pretty common." When Emma didn't continue, Snow prompted her, ducking her head down to try and make contact with Emma's downcast gaze.

"Emma? Are you alright?"

Suddenly feeling tears sting behind her eyes, Emma shook her head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just, unexpected, I guess. I always assumed my parents had a drunken one night stand, or had me on prom night or something."

"Charming," Regina drawled.

Emma's eyes snapped up. "Yeah, that's kinda the point." Her lips thinned in anger, but when Regina held her gaze she felt herself deflate a little. There was so clearly more that she needed to learn about her parents, things that these people could actually answer for her, if what Snow claimed was true.

But, the knot that had suddenly taken root in her stomach made Emma stop herself; her parents being messes she could handle. After all, she'd spent nearly thirty years thinking that very thing. But something about her parents being True Loves made her want to run away from every single answer she could get.

Because if they were in love, if they were happy, then it wasn't that they couldn't take care of her—they didn't want to.

"Emma?" Snow asked delicately, reaching out for Emma's hand again, but she pulled it away, shaking her head.

"Sorry." She looked over at her son who was watching her too closely. Putting on a small smile, she said, "So I help Regina cast this spell and it shows us to Merlin?"

Regina licked her lips. "That is the hope, yes."

"That actually sounds kind of easy," Emma said, blinking slowly.

"Don't count on it, Miss Swan," Regina said ominously. "Things are rarely as simple as they seem in this world." Emma's brows raised, a little surprised at the jaded words, and how intimately she felt them.

Lifting her cup of coffee, Emma replied, "Things are rarely as they seem in any world." The table fell silent, and Emma tried to read the woman across from her. Regina met her eyes, but her face remained impassive. After a small stand-off, Emma leaned back a bit in surrender, but narrowed her eyes at Regina with a smirk.

Regina quirked an eyebrow in response, but a matching smile pulled at her own lips before she stood up. Sliding effortlessly away from the table, she walked toward a small table against the wall behind her, where a small chest sat. It was deep green with gold trim, beautiful, and Regina lifted the lid to pull out the scroll she'd shown David the night before.

Turning back around, she held the scroll gently in her palm, and gestured to Emma's nearly empty plate. "Are you finished?"

It was a question, but Emma was almost positive that it was for show more than anything else. It seemed they would be doing this now, whether Emma was done or not. "I guess so," her lips thinned at the same time her skin heated almost pleasantly.

"So, how does this spell thing work?" she asked as she stood, and pushed her chair against the table. "Does it make us a map or something?" Sitting beside her, Henry snorted. "What?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's not GPS, ma," he laughed at her, and OK, she was already done with this teenager-condescension thing and he wasn't even technically a teenager yet.

Emma narrowed her eyes playfully. "Well how the hell am I supposed to know? I didn't even know magic existed until twelve hours ago, and for that matter neither did you."

Regina placed her free hand on her hip. "Well, your mother's question isn't completely off base, Henry." Emma's victorious smile at Henry had Regina shaking her head. "However, it's nothing so straightforward. Rather, it creates an internal sort of guidance that will lead the caster toward their destination. In this case, to Merlin, should he be in this land or a connecting one."

Emma nodded as she tried to process it all. "Like a gut instinct," she said.

"Yes, I suppose so," Regina nodded.

"Are you gonna do it now? Can I help?" Henry asked cheerfully, and Regina swallowed hard.

"Henry, I think it's best that you stay inside while Emma and I perform the spell." She met Emma's eyes and gave her a pointed look.

"Yeah, kid, what she said. It'll be safe in here, right?" Snow nodded, and stood to walk over to stand beside Henry's chair.

At his pout, Snow cupped his cheek tenderly. "We can watch from the gate, if you'd like." Henry smiled up at her and nodded. "David?" Snow offered, and he practically jumped at the offer to follow. Instead he nodded, smiling at the gesture.

As Regina turned to walk out of the room, Emma held out a hand. "Hey, woah, don't I need magic 101 or something first? Pass a small quiz or, I don't know, transfigure something?"

Regina arched a brow, looking over her shoulder. "This isn't Hogwarts, Miss Swan. And as far as magic 101, consider this the end of the lesson." Emma took large steps to catch up with her at the doorway, the others following close behind.

"We don't have to worry about that wraith while we're doing this, do we?" Emma asked, looking up warily at the sky.

"No, It can't be out in the daylight," Regina replied, pulling at her gloves as they walked away from the barrier they'd just passed through.

Emma looked over at the gate where the others stood, Henry in front of Snow and David, all watching intently. They were several feet apart, Regina and Emma having walked a ways past the barrier, but Emma could still see Snow's hands come to rest on Henry's shoulders, her gloved fingers curling over rapidly-growing bones.

The air was comfortably warm outside, and she furrowed her brow as she noticed the woman still wore the same leather gloves she'd had on since the night before. In fact, Emma hadn't seen her or Regina take them off once.

Looking over at the latter, she licked her lips, slowing as Regina walked ahead. After mulling over her question, Emma finally blurted out: "What's with the gloves?"

Regina turned quickly, her face open in surprise. "Excuse me?"

Emma nodded down, stuffing her hands into her back pockets. "The gloves. You and Snow haven't taken them off since I got here. And I mean the castle's a little drafty, but…" she trailed off, shrugging a shoulder as she looked at the rest of Regina's outfit.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Regina pulled off one glove, very slowly, and let the leather fall to the ground. Her right hand bare, she held out a smooth palm to Emma. "It's nothing."

Emma eyed the bared flesh in front of her, before looking up to find Regina swallowing hard, her throat moving with the action. "Take my hand," she murmured, and Emma reached out slowly, letting the subject drop for a moment.

Once her bare palm had settled against Regina's own, the woman stiffened. A spark ran up her arm at the contact, but when she looked up Regina was staring straight at her, face impassive. Must have been my imagination, she thought, and gripped Regina's hand tighter. "Don't get any ideas, Miss Swan. As Snow was so anxious to point out, my magic is a little less powerful than usual. Physical connection will help, considering you're a novice."

Emma's superpower tingled a bit, and she couldn't help but wonder at that. The touching hadn't seemed like a big deal until Regina had said that, and her own discomfort now was very interesting indeed.

"This is safe, right?" Emma asked, suddenly picturing every magical mistake that had happened in the movies Henry so enjoyed. "I've never done this. Well, this me hasn't, I guess." Regina offered an almost-warm smile at Emma's own, awkward as it was.

"You did it the first time without any prompting. You'll be fine." With a small huff of air, she spoke quietly, eyes unseeingly on Emma's throat. "I will do everything in my power to get you and Henry back safely, I want you to know."

"I believe you," she replied without thinking, and was surprised to find that, indeed, she did believe Regina. It soothed her in the same moment it made her irrationally nervous, guilty, like she had something to apologize for when, in fact, she'd done nothing.

The longer she spent with these people, Emma realized, the stronger that sense of familiarity became, the more she believed in Henry's conviction to help these strangers that were, supposedly, the opposite.

Regina's soft smile drew a similar one from Emma, and she could have sworn she felt that jolt of something dancing along her skin again as she held Regina's hand. "We hold hands, now what?"

Bending at the knee, Regina began to sit down on the grass, and Emma followed, until both cross-legged facing one another. "I'm going to cast, and you are going to be, to put it simply, a power source." Emma looked at her skeptically, but nodded for her to continue. "I will be guiding the course of the spell, providing it with the information of who to find. And you, will be, in a way, powering my guidance. Does that make sense?"

Emma closed one eye and grimaced. "I think so? But how do I, you know, power you?" The words felt strange, and Emma shook her head at her own question.

"You have to tap into your magic, and try to release it to me."

Emma scrunched up her face. "This sounds pretty complicated."

Regina squeezed her hand almost imperceptibly; Emma was sure she wouldn't have felt it if she hadn't been focusing on the feeling so closely. "I'll be drawing from you as I cast, and it'll help you know what to do. Think of it like a large box, and I'm pulling and you're pushing. Once I'm pulling, you'll know where to push." She set the scroll down gently beside her. "Here, I'm going to conjure fire, and you try to power it up."

Regina held out her other hand, still clad in a leather glove, and after a brief pause, a flame the size of a golf ball appeared. "Can you feel that?"

Emma closed her eyes, squeezing Regina's hand as she tried to search for some feeling, something that was pulling from her, but she felt nothing. "Relax," Regina said softly, her hand loosening as she pushed Emma's fingers apart, her own threading between them until their palms clasped together. "You don't have to look for it, it'll find you."

Her voice was soft, so smooth, and Emma couldn't stop the thrill that ran up her spine at the rich tone. She took a deep breath, trying to think of relaxation techniques she'd heard over the years, and rolling her shoulders.

She tried clearing her mind, thinking of nothing, but then Regina moved slightly, her fingers rubbed against Emma's own, smooth fingertips caressing the back of her hand, and then she felt it.

She'd been expecting a chill, the slow creeping coldness that was akin to blood being drawn, but it was something else, something warmer, and infinitely more welcoming. It coursed over her like warm rainwater, rolling down her neck, her shoulder, her arms, and down each finger as she pushed where Regina pulled.

Suddenly the heat wasn't warm, wasn't welcoming but hot, much too hot to be harmless, and when she opened her eyes the small flame had become the size of a kickball, and the fire was turning a cool blue.

With a gasp Regina closed her hand into a fist as Emma jumped back, their hands falling into their own laps as they took deep breaths.

"That ever happen before?" Emma laughed, though it was mostly adrenaline and little amusement.

Contemplative, Regina flexed her gloved hand and shook her head. "No, I can't say that it has." Emma breathed heavily, still recovering from the shock of what happened. "Perhaps a little more practice is in order." Picking up the glove next to her on the ground, Regina slipped it back over her exposed hand, tugging it down firmly before offering her hand once more.

Emma's brows raised. "No glove, no love?" Regina stared blankly at her and Emma squirmed. "It was a joke, Regina."

Pursing her lips she reached over and took Emma's hand, opening her other palm-up once more. "I hope you aren't this crass around Henry."

Emma dropped her hand. "You know, you're awfully concerned about how I'm raising my son."

Regina held her gaze for a moment before she relaxed her shoulders and dropped both hands to her knees. "I know you've no memory of it, but you and Henry knew us all before. Rather well, even." She struggled over her next words, her fingers pressing into her kneecaps. "It's been a year since we've seen you, a rather long year, I might add, and I've gone the entire time not knowing how you've both been doing.

"A year without knowing that what I did, sending you both away, if it was the right choice for Henry. For both of you," she added quietly. Searching Emma's eyes closely, she asked, "Honestly, how has Henry been?"

The words felt accusatory, the mere questioning of her parenting enough to put her on the defensive, but somehow that didn't seem like it was why Regina was asking. At least, not entirely.

"He's been…happy." At Regina's unsatisfied look she continued. "He's still pretty quiet, still reads a lot," she wasn't sure what Henry had been like a year ago if her own memories were, in fact, a little less than accurate, but she knew her son, and some things were constant. "He's been making friends, but he's pretty shy. Good grades, does his chores, plays video games after dinner. He's happy," she shrugged, confused at how to summarize her completely typical eighth-grade son. "He's normal."

Regina stiffened, holding out her palms again, eyes downcast. "I see," she murmured, and when she looked back up at Emma her face was again impassive, stoic; all traces of the vulnerability she had seen just seconds ago were gone. It left Emma feeling unsettled, a little guilty, even, that she had brought back this look to Regina's face. But if she had wanted to know that Henry was doing well, why had just that answer left her so shut down?

Trying to lighten the mood, she joked, "Aren't you gonna ask about me?" Her words had started out playful, but she couldn't help the smallest flare of hurt that caught in her chest at the question. Because really, Henry had said they were all a family. And wouldn't that include her and Regina?

"We both know that you can get through anything, Miss Swan." She smiled crookedly. "Your strength—while annoying more often than not—is something I haven't dreamt of doubting in quite some time." Conjuring another small flame she held out her left hand straighter. "Come on, we better get you and Henry on your way back."

Emma grasped her hand loosely, and nodded. "OK, so what should I do differently this time?"

"Magic is emotion, and the stronger the emotion, the stronger the magic." She eyed Emma. "You've obviously got the power aspect under control, but you're going to need to exert control over it, which I'm sure will be quite the challenge for you." Her tone was cold but her eyes sparkled almost imperceptibly. "The last time we did this my magic was much stronger, and I could handle your…output more effectively."

Emma immediately thought to when she'd healed Killian the night before, but quickly realized that she must have been talking about how it had been before the curse. The thought of them combining magic didn't quite answer how it was that they were family or friends, but she filed it away as Regina continued. "I'll extract more carefully, this time. I was not anticipating such a reaction. Are you ready?"

Nodding, Emma closed her eyes, and tried to clear her mind as she'd done before. She focused again on nothing, tried to become immune to the rustling of the leaves and the crispness of the air.

Emma sat in silence for what felt like a full five minutes before she opened her eyes. "Regina, nothing's happening." Regina opened her own eyes and glowered at Emma.

"Patience. It's going to take time."

Emma huffed, shifting uncomfortably. She was pretty sure her ass was falling asleep. "It didn't last time."

Tightening her hold on Emma's hand she bit out, "We're trying to avoid doing what happened the last time, remember?"

Emma matched her glare. "It's this stupid glove, seriously, what is up with them?"

Regina's chest heaved as she breathed out slowly, as if dealing with a petulant child, which only added to Emma's sudden anger. "Emma," she said evenly, her tone dark as she looked at her with deep brown eyes.

Suddenly the warmth began to crawl down her arms again, her frustration melting into something softer, nicer, and she turned her head to watch the fireball grow slowly, until it was as big as a grapefruit.

"Wow," she breathed, smiling at Regina. "We did it."

Nodding tersely, Regina closed her fist, the flame disappearing. "You see what a little patience will get you, Miss Swan?" Emma rolled her eyes and bit back a response. "Again."

Leaving her eyes open this time, as it clearly made no difference, Emma watched Regina conjure the small flame. When Regina nodded at her to begin, Emma tried to pinpoint what had started her magic the last time. She'd been frustrated and angry most notably, and so Emma licked her lips and looked down, her brows furrowing as she tried thinking of foster care, of prison, of neglectful houses and abusive boyfriends. Her skin was heating, but only from anger; the pleasant warmth she'd quickly become accustomed to was loud in its absence, and she frowned, her jaw clenched.

"Emma?" Regina was pulling back her hand slightly, and the thought of just such a thing made her tighten her grip, eyes flying to Regina's face.

Her lips were downturned, her face open with concern, and the care Emma saw was startling at the same time it warmed her. Like really warmed her, and the magic flow was back, the flame in her hand was growing and as Emma realized what it had been, how she'd accessed that magic she leaned away, dropping Regina's hand and clearing her throat. She looked anywhere but at the other woman while she caught her breath, and she wondered for the nth time, what her connection to Regina had been like.

"I got it, I think we should do the real one, now," she murmured, and Regina eyed her warily, but nodded. As she picked up the scroll again, Emma looked over at the castle, remembering suddenly that her family had been watching the whole time. Except, David and Henry leaned against the gate, heads turned toward one another as they were deep in conversation. Only Snow remained watching them, and she was too far away for Emma to see her face.

"Are you ready, Miss Swan?" Emma turned her head and nodded, looking her in the eye again. Regina held the scroll out to Emma. "Hold the spool in your hand, and I'll tear the spell off while you give me some power."

Emma's brow raised. "And we have a location, just like that?"

"Just like that," she mimicked, only a little sarcastically. Emma held onto the spool while Regina grasped her hand one last time. With a nod, Emma looked at Regina's cheeks, lightly flushed from the heat and exertion, her eyelashes, long and thick against her smooth skin. She traced the curve of her mouth with her eyes, leaning forward without permission as small, even breaths passed between her lips. Swallowing harshly she landed on the deep scar above her lip, even deeper in the shadow of her dark hair hanging effortlessly to her shoulders.

The rush of magic was strong, almost too strong, and Emma tried to focus on the single flaw before her, nothing more as she heard the distinct noise of paper tearing, felt the tug at the spool in her hands.

Pale purple smoke was gathering around them as electricity sizzled in the air, blinding white lights, small as fireflies flew around them without a pattern. "Focus," Regina hissed, her eyes shut in concentration as Emma zeroed in, again, on Regina.

The air was beginning to become heavy, stifling, and Emma felt sweat prickle at the back of her neck. Her head started to feel fuzzy, like it was filling up, overstuffed, and she gritted her teeth at the uncomfortable feeling.

After what felt like hours the lights began to dim and the smoke to dissipate until it was just them, sitting cross-legged in the cool grass, cheeks flushed.

Regina's eyes remained closed, her breathing even, until slowly, her eyelids fluttered. Emma's breathing slowed, the pressure in her head ebbing slightly, as her focus became sharper. She looked over to Regina, the woman deep in focus as she dropped Emma's hand and braced her palms on her knees.

Emma took a slow breath and asked, "Did it work?"

Regina blinked twice and shut her eyes in concentration before standing and turning until she faced East of the castle. Opening her eyes she looked out in the distance, where the beginnings of a small mountain range could be seen over thick forest. "He's in that direction," she said, voice thick.

Eyes wide in surprise, Emma swallowed. "Oh, wow. With how you were talking to Snow about it, I thought—"

"So did I, dear. It seems she was correct," she said, flatly. "The wizard lives." Turning toward Emma, she rolled her shoulders back to stand up straighter. "Perhaps finding you and Henry a way home won't be quite so difficult after all."

Without another word she turned back toward the castle, taking long strides toward the barrier.

Emma woke slowly, her head full and fuzzy and she immediately winced at the bright sun that peeked between the curtains. It looked to be mid-afternoon, meaning that the nap Regina had—very firmly—suggested had lasted several hours.

The air was still around her, without a trace of the city noises she'd grown used to hearing over the years. The absolute silence of the room was more jarring than anything, and Emma blinked rapidly as she sat up.

She'd shed her shoes and the borrowed vest, and the damp air of the castle left a chill deep in her bones as she got out from under the covers. The nap had been a good idea, Emma had to admit, though she'd protested it initially. The magic use had left her feeling keyed up—pumped on adrenaline like she had been so many times after getting a mark. But the resulting crash had certainly left her exhausted, and after just a few minutes she'd passed out easily.

Emma sat back down on the edge of the bed and started to pull her shoes back on, tying them quickly. As she did, the baby blanket Snow had given her caught her eye, and she wondered if she would have time to question the woman on her parents before they'd have to head out.

Shoes on, Emma left her room, looking down the long hallway. After they'd gone back inside, Regina had offered to show Henry the library, and Emma had watched him walk off with her toward the other end of the castle. Immediately she had been nervous to let her son go off with a woman that she still knew so little about, but as Regina had set her hand gently on his shoulder to lead him away, her nerves had subsided, the tension in her back easing at the scene. She wasn't sure how, but she knew that Henry was safe with her.

Unsure of what to do with herself, Emma started to wander the hall, exploring the large castle. She passed by several doors, all with a different name on the front. Some she recognized from earlier—Viktor, Killian—some she recognized from fairy tales—Tinkerbell, Dopey, Belle—and some she didn't recognize at all—Leroy, Tom, Archie.

It was, to be frank, pretty creepy. Like she'd stumbled into a Disney dorm. With a small shake of her head, Emma turned back around and headed toward the dining room, the only real place she knew to find anyone.

As she neared the staircase, loud laughter caught her ear. Familiar laughter, to be more specific. Turning toward the open window, Emma looked out to see a small courtyard between the castle and the protective blue bubble. In the middle were David and Henry, each with—what looked to be—a wooden sword in their hand as they play-dueled under the sun.

Her son's laughter made her feel light, and Emma couldn't help but linger in that spot, soaking up the scene before her.

"You're awake." Emma turned at the sound of Regina's voice behind her, the wide smile on her face tempered by the interruption. Regina gestured toward the window with a nod. "Henry was a bit restless after lunch."

Her words were succinct and sharp, almost defensive, and Emma shrugged. "Yeah, he hasn't killed anything in like a day in a half, I bet he jumped at the chance for a fight." Regina's eyes widened in horror and Emma snorted holding her hands up. "I'm talking about video games, Regina. Relax."

Narrowing her eyes, Regina crossed her arms in front of her. "That's no better, Miss Swan. You let Henry play those violent games? Often?"

Emma rolled her eyes and turned back around, leaning against her shoulder as she watched her son parry like a—well, an amateur, unfortunately. It seems he'd inherited her teenage awkwardness right on time.

"You're not one of those crazy anti-gamer people, right? You know they don't actually make people more violent." Emma paused. "Well, probably not much more violent."

Regina took a few steps closer to her and stared out the window, too, a small smile on her lips as Henry jumped away from David. "I suppose they're fine in moderation." She looked at Emma out of the corner of her eye. "But they're no competition for classic Mario."

Emma turned to look at her, but the other woman's face remained expressionless, save for a small twitch of her lips. Huh. Emma's eyes narrowed as she licked her lips. "NES?"

Regina turned to face her. "Super Nintendo. Same format, but a little more advanced."

Smirking, Emma asked, "So, you're the save-the-princess type?"

Regina's lips parted and she moved away from the window to stand at the top of the stairs. "I never said I won." She took a step down the stairs, and then spoke over her shoulder. "Snow is waiting for you in the library. I'll show you."

Not waiting for Emma, Regina continued down the stairs. With no choice but to follow, Emma did just that, walking behind and then beside Regina through the hallway. "So, does every fairy tale character ever just live here together?" Emma asked, breaking the quiet.

Stilling for a brief second, Regina said quietly, "No, not everyone." She continued to walk, and Emma waited for her to continue. Finally, she did. "When we came back here, few decided to stay together. Most went off on their own. Those that chose to remain in the castle are just a small portion of those that came back here with the curse."

Regina slowed in front of a set of large double doors. "What happened to the people that left?"

"I have no idea. They're most likely dead, I'm afraid." Regina spoke evenly, but her chin rose, as though she were consciously remaining unaffected.

Emma's eyes widened slightly at the information. "Dead? Seriously?"

"Snow was not lying to you, Emma, when she said it was dangerous out there." Emma's chest tightened at Regina's softened tone. This was the woman that she'd seen when she'd arrived; open and a little vulnerable.

Emma's brows furrowed and she licked her bottom lip quickly. "The wraith?"

"No," she murmured. "While we were gone, parts of our world were overrun by ogres."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ogres? Like Shrek?"

Regina's vulnerability disappeared in an instant, replaced by a small glare and pursed lips. "Really, Miss Swan, do you have anything besides children's films as a point of reference?"

Emma squinted. "Um, have a lot of hostage situations? I got a lot of Die Hard memorized."

With a small sigh of exasperation, Regina pointed to the door. "Snow is waiting for you in there."

Regina turned to leave, but Emma reached out and gently stopped her with a hand on her elbow. "Hey, shouldn't we be, you know, heading out to find this guy?"

Clearing her throat, Regina looked down at Emma's hand until she drew it back. "We'll leave in the morning. It's best to be out as little as possible at night." With a small nod she turned, and walked away.

Pushing on the heavy door, Emma stepped across the threshold into the soft light of the library. The room was large, but not ridiculously so, just a single level though the bookcases reached all the way up to the ceiling. In the middle of the room sat two identical couches, facing one another, and a dark wooden coffee table in between with papers, drawings, and books covering every inch. Past the seating was a large fireplace, the flames flicking high behind the protective partition.

Snow sat tucked into one corner of the dark red couch, toward the fire, a book resting forgotten on her lap. She seemed oblivious to Emma's presence, her eyes staring unseeing at the second couch as she bit at the nail on her left thumb, bared from beneath the ever-present gloves that now lay on the seat beside her.

"Regina said you were waiting for me?" Emma asked, standing awkwardly with her hands on her hips. Snow looked up in surprise for a moment before a soft smile broke across her lips.

"Emma, how are you feeling?" She asked, closing her book gently and setting it on the table. Her hands free, she picked up her gloves and slipped them on quickly, before patting the seat next to her.

Emma hesitated, uncomfortable to be so close, but stepped forward anyway. After a pause, she said, "Fine. A little groggy from the nap, I guess." Snow nodded in understanding and Emma sat down on Snow's couch, sure to put herself back against the other arm as far as she could.

"They're always so disorienting, aren't they?" She asked lightly.

"Hmm," Emma murmured in agreement, unsure where to go from here. Snow's eyes were trained sharply on her, and the attention made her skin prickle uncomfortably. "What are you reading?" She gestured to the discarded book.

"Hmm?" Snow looked confused before she caught sight of the table. "Oh. I, um, I'm actually not sure." She blushed lightly. "I got a little distracted. I have something for you." Snow reached down toward the side of the couch, pulling up something bright red and awfully familiar from its hiding place.

"Is that my jacket?" Emma pointed. She'd left it downstairs when she'd gone to bed the night before, its tattered sleeve rendering it rather useless to her without any place to get it fixed.

Snow nodded, and held it up, showing off the sleeve with several tight black xs sewing the tear shut. "It is." She smiled.

Emma's own lips parted in a wide smile—that jacket had been through so much with her, and she was pretty grateful to have it back. "Wow, thank you! You did an amazing job." She took the jacket from Snow's hands and ran her fingers over the repaired sleeve.

Snow said nothing, simply wrung her hands together in her seat. "We didn't get to talk earlier, but I told you I'd answer your questions." Emma's face darkened with the intensity of the topic, and Snow held her hands out. "If you want to, that is."

Licking her lips, Emma set the jacket down on her lap and pulled her feet up underneath herself, turning to face Snow more fully. "Yeah, I do. It's just…something I've been waiting for since I can remember." Shrugging, she said quietly, "I guess I'm just a little nervous."

Swallowing harshly, Snow reached out and set a hand on Emma's own, her shoulders relaxing when she didn't pull away. "You shouldn't be. Emma, it's a very complicated situation. And somewhat hard to explain. But I should start by saying that I—they would want you to know that they love you so much. And they didn't give you up by choice."

Emma stiffened. "What does that mean?"

"The curse that brought us to your world, it came just after you were born. Your parents had a plan, to get you and your mother to safety before the curse came so that one day you would be able to break the curse."

"Because I'm the Savior," she said, skeptically.

"Exactly," Snow nodded, squeezing Emma's hand. "But you came too soon, and they could only send one; it had to be you." Emma started to pull her hand back. "Emma, your mother didn't want to send you, neither did your father. But the curse would have left you frozen with them, with no possible escape."

Emma did pull her hand back, then, her brows furrowing. "So this curse would have left me with my parents? And we would have been fine, together?"

"We didn't know what would happen," Snow defended. "You could have ended up with them, or you could have ended up an orphan there, too. We had no idea what would happen," she stressed again, clasping her now empty hands together.

Emma's lips thinned. "So I could have ended up with the shitty life I had, or I could have ended up with a happy family?" Snow didn't respond. "Well, I can say with certainty that I would gladly have gambled the childhood I had for the one I could have." Emma stood up, suddenly feeling the need to be up, be away from Snow.

She took several deep breaths, hands on her hips as she processed Snow's words. Quietly, Snow said, "They didn't know what this world was like, Emma."

"I get that you knew them or whatever, but can you not defend them right now? Weren't we, like, friends, in Storybrooke?"

"We were!" Snow said defensively.

Emma held up a hand. "Well, fine. Then can you just be my friend right now and be angry with me? I mean, I'd accepted that they were probably low-life criminals, or stupid teens or whatever. And that they couldn't have taken care of me. But—"

"They wanted to give you your best chance, Emma!" Snow stood, now, too. "Just like you and Hen—"

"What?" Emma furrowed her brows. "This is nothing like Henry. I did the right thing, the good thing, and I kept my son. I did what my parents didn't, and I trusted that a loving life with me was better than putting him into a system that did nothing but fuck me over time and again."

Snow had paled during Emma's words, and she sat down, eyes closed. After a long moment, Snow murmured, "You're right. You did not have the childhood you deserved, Emma." She didn't look at Emma as she finished, "I'm sorry."

Running her fingers through her hair, Emma sat down beside Snow and sighed. "No, don't be. It's not your fault." Snow paled further. "You're trying to help me, I know that. It's just a lot." She tried to smile at Snow, but it was crooked and half-hearted. "Can you tell me what happened to them? The way you've been talking…" she trailed off, not wanting to acknowledge the truth she'd been becoming more and more certain of.

"They're…gone." Emma nodded, her gut telling her that wasn't quite right, more like a shade of the truth, but she could imagine it coming down to semantics. The important part was that she had an answer; she had some closure. "They—"

Emma shook her head. "That's," she sighed. "I get it. I don't know if I want details yet."

The silence weighed heavily between them.

"You met them." Emma turned her head sharply, but Snow continued to look forward. "You met them in Storybrooke, and they knew who you were. You knew them." Heart pounding, Emma waited for her to continue. "You were a family, you really were. And I don't think it mattered that you were separated for so long. Not really. I think—maybe I just want to think—that you were happy with them."

Emma leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. She didn't have an answer for Snow. Emma didn't remember any of it—nothing about her parents sounded right or familiar or anything. "You'd think I'd remember something I've been waiting for my whole life, right?" she murmured. She wasn't expecting a reply, and Snow didn't give one.

Instead, she leaned back against the couch, her eyes narrowed in thought. As upsetting as it all was, there were still things she wanted to know—needed to know about them. What kind of people had they been? Had they wanted kids? Would they have been disappointed with Emma anyway—all long limbs and rough edges and zero interest in being a lady?

The questions were big—too big for her still raw nerves—so instead she just sat there in the quiet beside Snow for a long moment. Finally, she rolled her head to the side, and looked at Snow. "How did you know them?" she asked.

"We were friends. Your mother and I, we were very close. Practically sisters," she said with a tight smile that felt much to forced.

Eyes narrowing in confusion, she asked, "How old were you when the curse brought you over?"

"This age," she gestured to herself. "We were all frozen in time. No one aged."

One question hovered closest on her tongue. "What were their—"

"Ma!" Henry burst through the library door, holding up a wooden sword. "David's teaching me how to use a sword!" His face shone from the smile he wore, much too enthusiastic for his maturing face.

Smiling herself, Emma leaned forward, and stood up. "So I saw. You've got some moves, Mr. Swan." She punched him playfully on the arm.

"Nah, I'm pretty bad. But it's cool, right?" Emma nodded in agreement. Looking up at his mother, Henry dropped the sword to his side and asked, "How are you feeling?"

Worried her son had picked up on the intensity of her conversation, Emma shrugged. "What do you mean?"

Giving her a weird look, Henry gestured with the pommel of the sword. "Uh, you performed magic earlier today?"

A little laugh of relief fell from Emma's lips and her shoulders relaxed. "Oh, yeah. I don't know, fine, I think. How am I supposed to be feeling?"

Henry shrugged his shoulders. "Hungry? Regina said to come get you guys for dinner." Emma looked at him softly for a long moment. "What?"

Shaking her head, Emma pulled him to her side. "Nothing, kid. You're an amazing little man, you know that?" Henry looked over at Snow, wide-eyed in embarrassment, but relaxed at her giant smile.

"Yeah, yeah. I learned it from you," he said gently, before pushing away. "C'mon, I'm a growing boy, I need sustenance."

Henry walked ahead, through the library, as Emma bent over to pick up her repaired leather jacket from the couch. When she stood back up she lifted it, and smiled at Snow. "Thank you for this, really."

As she turned to follow her son, Snow's stopped her with a gentle hand to her back. "Actually," she dropped it back to her side. "Regina fixed it, last night. She wanted me to give it to you." Emma's brow furrowed, but she nodded, and draped the jacket over her arm. "Well, we should," Snow gestured toward the door, and Emma walked out, following Snow as she took her down the long hallway to come back to the room she was quickly growing familiar with.

The others were already seated when they arrived, David and Henry on one side, with Regina across from him. "…but I missed," Henry finished as Snow and Emma got to the table.

Regina was watching Henry closely as he told his story, eyes focused. David laughed, and clapped Henry on the back. "It was impressive for a first-timer, let me tell you. You'll get there, Henry," he smiled wide at him.

Snow took a seat at the far side, next to David, and Emma sat down across from her, between Henry and Regina. As she sat, Regina looked over at her quickly, her eyes flickering to the red jacket on her arm before catching Emma's eye. She looked tentative, a bit nervous, and she looked away before Emma could thank her, so she let it go. Instead she turned toward Henry and raised an eyebrow. "Tales from the battlefield?"

Henry smiled and nodded. "Yep. I was just telling Regina about it."

"Just be sure David gives you the proper safety equipment next time. The swords may be wood, but they can still fracture a bone, or—"

"He's fine," David cut her off, staring her down when she glared over at him.

Henry turned toward Emma and smiled, pointing to her jacket. "It's fixed?"

"Yeah," she nodded, feeling Regina's stare. "So, uh, do anything today besides play with sticks?"

Henry rolled his eyes but leaned forward as Snow whispered to David behind him. "Yeah, you were asleep for hours. Regina showed me the library. There are a ton of books on magic and the Enchanted Forest and the history of this world. Did you know there were four Ogre Wars in the past five hundred years?"

Emma leaned back in her chair. "Ugh, getting excited about history, you are not my son." At Henry's pointed look, Emma shook her head. "No, I didn't, kid. Regina just told me about ogres a bit ago anyway. Like Shrek, right? I'm picturing the right thing?"

Henry pursed his lips and looked down his nose at her, and for a moment she could have sworn it was the same look Regina had given her earlier. How long had he been in that library with her?

"Yeah. Regina also told me some more about magic, and the Forest and did you know unicorns are real? And chimera." He looked over at Regina and smiled. "This place is so cool."

Emma felt a brief jolt of jealousy at the way her son was so obviously enamored with the woman beside her. She knew it was irrational—this was her son, and Regina was new, a novelty—but it still stung just a bit. "Well," she put on a brave face and turned toward the woman in question, "I hope you didn't talk her ear off, kid."

"Nonsense," Regina waved her off. "Henry is a very smart young man. I enjoyed his company." Her smile was magnificent, open and warm and her eyes crinkled with humor. Emma felt the insecurity she had ebb, lost in the easy warmth of the usually (or so she guessed) cold woman before her.

Emma glanced over to where Snow and David were still whispering quietly to each other, before Granny walked into the room, holding two plates of hot lasagna over to the table. As she slid the plates in front of Emma and Henry, another woman walked into the dining room behind her, dressed in a pale pink gown, her auburn hair curled lightly around her shoulders. A small tiara sat atop her head, and Emma caught how it sparkled in the setting sun coming in through the window.

"Emma!" She smiled wide as she set two plates of her own down at the table in front of Snow and David, before rounding the table to stand beside Emma. Before she could react she was enveloped in a deep hug, and belatedly her hands came to rest gently along the woman's back. "I can't believe you're really here!"

When she pulled away, Emma looked toward the others in the room for help. "Aurora," Snow started, but the princess shook her head.

"I'm sorry, they told me you don't remember. But Phillip and I are on our way home, and I just had to see you." She smiled down at Emma wistfully. "I'm so glad to see you're doing well."

Emma's brow furrowed, but she murmured, "Thanks," uncertain how else to respond.

Snow stood and walked over toward her friend, resting a hand gently on her back. "Thank you for coming, Aurora. And for all your help with locating that spell, we couldn't have found it without you. Are you sure you don't want to stay a bit longer? Have dinner with us?"

Aurora shook her head. "No, I was just stopping down to say goodbye and I thought I'd help Granny on her way in here. I really must be going, I'm afraid."

Leaning forward, Snow spoke quietly. "You wouldn't rather wait 'til morning light? You know it's not safe out there with the ogres. They're not in your land yet, but—"

Aurora shifted away slightly, her smile becoming tighter. "We'll be alright, Snow. Thank you for your hospitality. It was truly a pleasure to see you again." She looked around the table, her smiled dropping completely when she looked to Regina.

"I'll walk you out," David stood, and Aurora slipped her hand into the crook of his arm as she was led out of the small dining room.

Granny stood behind Regina, and patted her shoulder. "I'll be back with yours in a minute," she said, before disappearing back into the kitchen as Snow took her seat again.

"So," Emma started, still trying to process the most recent visitor. "Sleeping Beauty?" Snow nodded. "And I know her?"

"It's a long story. But yes. She helped us. We helped her. She and Phillip were visiting for a few days. They just had a baby—a beautiful boy—and I've been begging them to visit. It feels like they've been avoiding me, actually." Her face darkened slightly before she blinked it off.

Granny came back out with a single plate, and set it down gently in front of Regina. The top was peppered with small red flakes. "Thank you," Regina said quietly, a small smile on her lips.

"How you can handle all that fire, girl," she muttered and walked away, back into the kitchen.

Emma started to cut into her meal with the side of her fork. "So I can't help but notice that this dining room is pretty small."

Regina looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. "It seems that New York education is rubbing off on you," she smirked, taking a bite of her food.

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I mean, there are six places here. And a whole lot of people living here." She gestured vaguely around and added, "Plus this is a freaking castle. Shouldn't there be like a Great Hall or something?"

Regina narrowed her eyes. "How much time do you spend reading Harry Potter, dear?" Henry snorted.

"There is a larger dining hall, Emma." Snow answered, picking at her food with her fork. "We just prefer to eat in here." Regina opened her mouth, her eyes dark, but she shut it when she looked to Henry. Instead she pursed her lips and looked down at her own meal.

Emma was certain that wasn't the real reason—at least not exactly—but she let it go, instead digging in to her food and finding that, yes, she was rather hungry. This whole kid-being-right-thing was starting to get really annoying.

The table fell quiet as they ate, the door making an echoing thud as David walked back into the room. "Phillip sends his regards," he said evenly, taking his seat. "Though I'm not sure he meant it, the way their carriage flew away."

Snow nodded. "Aurora seemed rather jumpy herself this morning. Do you think they're worried about the ogres?"

"I'm not sure," David shook his head.

"Are ogres something we're going to have to worry about tomorrow?" Emma asked.

Snow looked at her, hard. "You're not coming with," she said absolutely.

"Snow," David pleaded, but she shook her head.

Emma looked around the table in surprise. "Uh, I'm not? I thought you wanted my help."

"We do, Emma," David said.

"And you gave it, by helping Regina. We can take it from here," Snow said assuredly. Emma was frustrated by the decisiveness in her tone, but she had to admit it was pretty impressive for her to have such determination—definitely not what she would have pictured from the fairy tale Snow.

David looked across the table. "Regina, you know you need her."

Sitting up straighter, Regina said smoothly, "Oh, now you want my help, shepherd? My, my," she clicked her tongue. He didn't back down, and after a beat her sense of superiority fell. Sighing, she looked to Snow. "It wouldn't be the worst idea, Snow. To have her along." Snow looked at her, betrayal on her face, but Regina ignored it. "While I'm tracking Merlin my magic will be indisposed, meaning that should anything happen it would be just you and those pointy sticks."

Snow's jaw clenched and Emma sat up in her chair. Enough of them discussing this like she wasn't here. "Look, I said I was going to help you find Merlin and I am. I get you two there safely, you can get me and Henry back safely. Got it?"

David smiled at her with something akin to pride, as did her son. Beside her, Regina watched her closely, eyebrows tilted up in gentle surprise, and Emma felt herself warm at the sight. Snow's anger dampened but didn't fade completely, and Emma sighed, resigning herself to being a disappointment. If she and Snow truly had been friends in Storybrooke, it wouldn't be the first time, she was sure.

"Now that that's settled, the ogres? Something to worry about?" Emma looked directly at Snow, waiting for her to push past this and accept that she knew what she was doing and, as an adult, would help anyone she damn well felt like.

"Somewhat," Snow answered, finally, taking a drink of water. "Where Regina feels the pull is toward the East, which is the direction of Aurora and Phillip's castle. Their kingdom has been ogre free, remarkably, so we should be safer that direction." She looked at Emma sternly. "But that doesn't mean we're safe."

"Hey, it's not like dangerous situations are new to me. I find bail jumpers for a living." Emma tried to lighten to heavy mood that had fallen on the table.

"Excuse me?"

Emma turned toward Regina and nodded, brows furrowing in confusion. "Yeah, didn't you know that's what I did?"

Regina sat very still, speaking slowly. "At one point, yes, but I thought I'd given you…some things to think about before you left." Shifting, she added, "It's not exactly the best job for a parent."

Emma watched her, confusion etched on her features. "Well, if you did I guess I don't remember; the curse and all? But it's not like I take the long assignments, or leave town or anything. Plus it's not like a lot of better jobs are looking for a high school dropout ex-con, or didn't you know that too?"

Jaw tightening in anger, Emma picked up a glass of water and drank from it slowly. This, this is why she couldn't imagine being friends, much less family with a woman like Regina: judgmental, opinionated, and always right. She was exactly the type of person that drove Emma crazy as a kid, and it was no better now.

Familiar embarrassment stung at her from her own admission of her checkered past. Even though these people knew—must have known—what kind of teenager she'd been, it didn't make it any easier to talk about. Henry kicked at her foot under the table, and when she looked up at the quiet table, she found Regina's head down slightly as she quietly ate her food. Her lips were thinned, and her cheeks were lightly flushed.

Emma swallowed. So Regina regretted that? Good.

After a moment of watching the guilty expression, Emma started to feel bad herself, her cheeks now flushing at her own snap judgment. Clearing her throat, Emma asked, "How far to the mountains?"

Regina looked up, and said evenly, all traces of her guilt gone, "A day and a half or two, I believe. The most direct—and safest—route is to go through the forest, which means we'll have to travel on foot." Emma groaned at the thought. "I hope those boots are comfortable, Miss Swan."

"Can't you just poof us there? With magic? I thought teleportation was a thing," Emma pouted.

"It is a 'thing'. A very taxing thing, I might add," she said condescendingly. "Besides, I won't be able to use magic until we reach the wizard. Not only does poofing make it impossible to feel out the direction I should be traveling, but there's a chance it would disrupt the locator spell completely."

"So we're going to have to camp out and hunt and everything?" Henry's face opened in excitement.

Regina licked her bottom lip and looked at Emma for a moment. She opened her mouth to answer but Emma cut her off, saying, "No way, kid. Did you not hear about the ogres and wraiths and probably giant bugs that are out there? You're staying here."

Henry's face darkened and his lips curled down into a pout. "That's so not fair! I'm the whole reason we're here."

Emma laughed before she could stop herself. "You do not want to go down that road as something to help your case." At his crossed arms, she breathed out heavily. "Look, I'll get you some kind of Merlin souvenir, OK?"

Regina leaned forward. "Don't tease him," she bit out. "Henry, as much as I'd like for you to be able to come along, it truly is far too dangerous for you to join us."

"I'm not a little kid," he whined.

"No, you're not," Regina agreed, looking at Emma out of the corner of her eye. "But I'm certain your mother still feels as though you are her little boy. So perhaps you could listen to her about this."

Henry continued to sulk, but didn't say another word, instead picking at the rest of his dinner. Regina eyed Emma, and Emma shot her a small grateful smile, though she tried to process the intensity with which Regina spoke. As though she cared about him just as Emma did herself.

Her plate almost empty, Emma asked her last question: "What are we gonna do if we find him? I mean, is he the type to just help out outta the goodness of his heart?"

Snow worried her lip. "Honestly, I'm not sure. He's not exactly the most social man." She shrugged a shoulder. "I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Emma hummed her approval, not exactly opposed to the idea of winging it—though she found it hard to believe the rest of her travel group wouldn't be. "Works for me."

Stomach full, Emma leaned back comfortably in her chair, and rested her hand on her stomach. Stifling a yawn, she was surprised to find herself tired again after such a long nap, though she supposed it could have something to do with the whole amateur-spell-casting thing.

"Are you tired, Emma?" Snow asked, sweetly.

Before she could answer she felt a second yawn coming on, and her hand flew to her mouth. "I guess so," she murmured.

"Why don't you go on upstairs? We'll have to leave pretty early tomorrow anyway." Emma wanted to refuse, to stay out and maybe try to pick up where she'd left off with Snow about her parents, but the mere thought of such a heavy topic left her feeling drained immediately.

Instead she nodded, and stood. "You coming, kid?"

Henry shook his head and pushed his empty plate away. "Nah. I think I'll go back to the library if it's OK?"

He looked around and settled on Regina, who smiled encouragingly. "Of course, Henry," she murmured. "Do," she cut herself off, looking around awkwardly before clearing her throat. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Shaking his head, Henry stood. "'Course not," he said. Emma stood and snagged him by the arm as he walked away, pulling him in for a tight hug and a kiss to the top of his head. He squirmed but laughed, as he whined, "Ma," against her shoulder.

"Don't stay up too late, kid," she said as she patted his back on the way out into the hall, Regina beside him. Turning to face the married couple at the table, Emma gestured over her shoulder with her thumb as she grabbed her jacket from the chair. "I guess I'll turn in, then. Thanks for dinner."

"Emma, wait," David stood, and held out his hand. "We'll walk you up," he offered, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Nodding, Emma allowed the company on the short walk, though she was a bit uncomfortable with the weird tension that lingered.

"You know you don't have to do this, Emma," Snow finally said. "You don't need to come with us. Regina and I, we'll be fine." The comment was surprising, considering it suggested that David would not be coming on the trip, something his very protective behavior didn't seem to fit with.

Shrugging it off, she shook her head. "Thanks, but I can't just sit around here, waiting for a ride home. I'd go crazy," she laughed. Sobering, she added, "Besides, I, um, I'd hate for you to get hurt." The admission was nothing, not revealing really at all, but it still felt as though she had laid herself bare by admitting that she may care about these people.

People, she reminded herself, that she'd only known for a day.

The thought was ridiculous, jarring, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Sorry, I better get to sleep. See you in the morning," she said as she opened the door. Before she could walk in, Snow pulled her back into a crushing hug, and David followed, the familiar pressure of his hand on her head making her melt into the embrace.

Because even though it had only been a day, it certainly felt like years. When they both pulled back—Emma having allowed the hug to last for much longer than she'd realized—she hugged her arms to her body, sandwiching her leather jacket against her chest. "We were pretty close, in Storybrooke, weren't we?"

Though she'd been fighting it, Emma had to admit that all signs—as subjective and inconclusive as they may be—certainly pointed her toward the crazy stories of curses and Saviors and magical small towns as truth.

"We were a bit more than friends, Emma." Snow started, looking at David closely. "We were all actually roommates, too." She finished, and Emma felt tension she hadn't noticed fade away.

"Oh," she said. "Roommates? So the four of us—you two, me, and Henry—we all lived together? That's," she struggled for a positive word. "Cozy."

Snow laughed. "It was." Guilt darkened her face and she quickly added, "It was really nice, actually."

Another yawn caught in Emma's throat and she tilted her head toward her room. "I better crash if you want me to be able to walk all day tomorrow."

Snow and David nodded, and waved lightly as Emma walked away. "Good night, Emma," David said, and she shut the door.