"Mom?" Henry asked tentatively, leaning down to put his face closer to her.
"Kid," Emma warned, her voice thin and watery, her hands trembling as she reached forward again, resting her fingers against her neck.
She has a pulse. She'll be OK. I'll figure this out.
Emma licked her lips, and gently rolled Regina onto her back, cradling her neck. This wasn't happening. Not when she had finally—finally—figured things out enough to know that this is what she wanted. That family was all of these people and that they would all be OK—she was surenow—over time.
"Ma you have to do something!" Henry was gripping her arm tight, painfully, and Emma bit back the urge to snap at him; he was scared, but so was she.
"Henry," Snow murmured, and put her hand on his shoulder, giving him a warning look. "Just calm down, honey. Give her a minute to wake up, OK?"
Snow's soothing words calmed Henry, but they just grated on Emma's frazzled nerves, and she gritted her teeth as she tried to tune her out. Reaching out, she held her breath as she ran her fingers gently through Regina's hair.
It made her think of more pleasant moments, stolen in the past day, and she wanted them back, wanted to relive those moments and not be terrified her hand would come away with blood.
There was a small bump on the back of her head, but Emma felt her entire body relax as she felt nothing wet, found no blood. The only mark on her was that bump, and Emma tried to keep herself calm.
"Emma?" Snow asked, gently, her face twisted with concern as she spoke low. "Do you think you could use magic?"
"Yes, ma! You have to, you have to heal her."
"Henry, I barely know how to light a match, I don't have any idea how I'd heal her," her voice cracked on the last words, her cheeks wet with the few tears that escaped.
"You have to try," he said plaintively, and Emma looked at him for a long moment, lost.
Finally she nodded, sitting down cross-legged beside Regina. She started to concentrate, trying to focus on nothing but Regina in front of her, and, eyes closed, she reached out to take her hand, her fingers curling over Regina's and squeezing tightly.
She took a deep breath, her chest rising—as Regina's had as she stepped close—as she licked her lips—Regina's full lips turned down in a smile, her scar catching in the moonlight—and tried to think of making her better—her smiling, happy as they spun around in the little inn on the other side of the mountain.
Emma felt something build in her, something strong and warm and she thought of Regina, powerful and in charge and not lying on the ground motionless.
The pressure faded, her concentration breaking and she shook her head in frustration. "It's not working, I can't seem to focus." Her frustration was building into anger and desperation as she tried again, her thoughts swaying back to the unconscious woman before her.
Two, three, four more times she attempted, her strength getting smaller by the second as she grew more and more fearful. What if it wasn't just a bump? What if there was internal bleeding, what if she'd broken a rib and punctured a lung?
"I can't do it!" Emma cried, pushing off of the ground and pacing the cave furiously. "What good am I as the Savior if I can't even protect the people I care about?"
Henry shrank back, sitting on his heels at Emma's outburst, and Snow put her arm around him.
Great, she was screwing this up, too. Emma took a deep breath, putting her hands on her hips, and stared at a spot on the floor. This was crazy, it was getting them nowhere and she needed to wake Regina up, make sure she was OK.
"Forget magic," Emma murmured, thinning her lips and dropping back down to the ground. "You were a teacher, Mary Margaret. You have to know some first aid, right? Something that can help her," she searched the other woman's face with wide, hopeful eyes.
"I only know the basics, Emma," she shrugged, but her body was just as taut in tension as the rest of them, her voice was just as broken. "CPR, Heimlich. I can't do anything," she said helplessly.
Emma shook her head. "No, I don't accept that. It's crap."
"Emma," Snow furrowed her brow, but Emma cut her off.
"I'm serious. Regina is in danger, and she is right here, right here in front of me, and I can't do anything?" Emma slumped back against the wall, letting her head fall back with a dull thump. "I can't do anything," she admitted, her chest tightening in pain.
"Do you—" Snow cleared her throat, and reached a hand out, gently pushing Regina's jacket away from her face. "Do you care about her, Emma?"
"What kind of question is that?" Emma scoffed. "Of course I do."
She shook her head, and drew her hand back. "No, Emma. I mean do you care about her?" Emma stilled, unsure how to answer. "I've seen you two, over the past few days. It seems like you've gotten rather close."
"Mary Margaret, that doesn't mean—"
"This isn't your grudge, Emma," she said, shaking her head. "What happened between Regina and I was about us. Don't take on our pain. We can handle it on our own."
Emma opened her mouth to rebut the statement, to point out how narcissistic it was to assume that she would. But she was right. She had done that. Because it was easier to forgive what someone had done to you, but it was always harder to let it go when it was about the people you loved.
Instead of admitting it, Emma swallowed, and said, "Some of what happened wasn't just about you. It happened to David, to me, to the town."
Snow nodded, and squeezed Henry's shoulder at the dark expression on his face as he looked down at his mother. "Then you worry about what happened between you two, Emma. And see if you can forgive that."
It was a question she'd been grappling with; forgiveness. It wasn't her strongest suit, to be sure, but as she looked down at Regina, imagined the worst possible outcomes, she felt her heart beat harder.
She could. Emma could forgive her, eventually, for everything. It wouldn't be fast, and it wouldn't be easy, but she realized how much she wanted to forgive her, and wanted to earn Regina's forgiveness right back.
"Do you care about her, Emma?" Snow asked again, more pointedly, knowingly. Henry looked up at her, his eyes wet with tears, and she shook her head.
"I do," she breathed, and Snow gave her a watery smile, twisted in the corners.
"David saved my life with a kiss," she said, biting her cheek.
"Do you love her?" Henry asked, picking up on their conversation. "Do you love my mom?"
Emma shifted, looking down at the woman on the ground, her face even with a serenity that belied her health. Remembering the warmth of Regina in her arms, the teasing and touches and baring of souls that had happened so recently, Emma stumbled.
"It's not that simple, Henry," she said, and it wasn't. They were both born in this world of True Love and magic and fate and connection, but it wasn't theirs.They belonged to a darker, more honest land where things weren't clean or fair or just. Things just were sometimes, and world like that made it impossible for her to see anything that clearly.
Did she think she could love Regina? Yes. In fact, she was certain of it.
"Of course it's that simple! True Love's Kiss, ma," he pleaded, and he was suddenly the ten-year-old boy at her door, and not the gangly pre-teen before her. "If you love her you can do it."
"I don't know if I do, Henry." She shook her head, frustrated at the conversation. "This isn't the right time to talk about this, OK? To decide how I feel. Things are complicated, and I don't think now is the time to test if this—us—are meant to be in some act of desperation."
Henry sat up straighter, his face firm in resolve, and he was so very much Regina's son in that moment that it made her heart skip a beat. "There's never a right time for love, ma."
She chewed at the inside of her cheek, her leg bouncing with frustration and fear and anxiety, and she licked her lips.
It was insane, the idea that they could be True Loves when they had barely moved into friendship. It wouldn't work, Emma was certain. True Love like this was not meant for her, and she was willing to bet it wasn't made for Regina, either. Their lives were too messy, full of ugly back story and sharp emotion and feelings that couldn't fit in a tiara.
It would hurt, to prove it, though. To do it against her better judgment, just to know she was right. Her heart started to pound heavier. She could be right, or she could be happy; a line she was sick of finding herself on the same side of.
Emma was a non-believer; a skeptic. But that didn't mean she wanted to be.
Licking her lips, Emma pushed up onto her knees, scooting closer as she breathed quickly through her nose. Her fingers were trembling, her back stiff and she could feel her heartbeat between her ears. A steady thump thump thump grew as she shot one last glance to Henry and Snow, before leaning down slightly.
Regina's lips were scant inches away and Emma's eyes fluttered closed, her world seeming to slow as she breathed out, parted her lips to press against Regina's.
A rattling gasp cut through the pounding in her head, and Emma jerked back, away from Regina, her lips untouched. Snow and Henry rushed to help her up, telling her to take it slow and easing her to lean back against the wall as she felt the bump on her head and winced.
She had woken up on her own.
It was bittersweet, as she realized that Regina was fine, was breathing and conscious and OK. But a small sense of disappointment, of loss echoed in her chest, and she found herself swallowing back her distress.
"You're OK," Emma breathed, finally, Henry nearly crushing Regina as he hugged his mother tightly. Regina looked at her and nodded, her eyes soft as she met Emma's.
She's OK.
"I believe so, yes," she said, and winced as she leaned forward to stand. Emma rushed to help her up, a hand on the bend of her arm, and she smiled for a split second before she refocused. "He had the Dark One's medallion," she started, addressing the biggest issue first. "How on earth did he get it?"
Emma popped one foot out, putting her weight on the back one. The last time she had seen the medallion it had been—"Aurora," she breathed. "When I was on watch one night, after we came through the hat, I saw her holding it. She kept it in a pouch."
Snow looked up in horror, recognition on her face. "She and Mulan had blamed us for bringing it over, and Aurora had said Phillip had been taken by the wraith."
"Wait, so what is he doing back here?" Emma asked.
"Aurora and Mulan saved him, after we went back to Storybrooke." Snow looked over at Regina, her gaze flickering over her face before she looked back at Emma. "We asked them everything they knew about the wraith, and they told us a little, but it wasn't helpful.
"I never thought they were keeping anything from us," Snow defended, looking to Regina. "I had no idea she had the medallion." Snow leaned back against the wall, the torch in her hand dropping low as she shook her head. "Why would they do it? I never expected them to betray us like that."
Regina lifted an eyebrow. "Well it seems they have. The more important question is, how is Merlin able to summon it? And why did he want us in here?"
Emma swallowed harshly, terrified of what they'd unleashed. "We have to get out of here," she said, and reached toward her hip. The sheath was empty, and she turned to Regina. "Do you have your sword?" she asked.
"I dropped it after we broke the seal," she admitted, face darkening at her actions. "By the entrance," she added, and walked over toward the front of the cave, looking down. "Light," she held out her hand for the torch, taking it from Snow. "I don't see it," she said in frustration, shifting the small bits of debris on the floor away to be certain.
"I was holding mine, when he sent us in here," Emma said, looking down toward the ground carefully for any trace of it.
"Ma!" Henry shouted, and pointed toward a shadowy portion of the wall. They all walked closer, Regina bringing the torch as a strong silver blade glittered in the firelight.
Reaching out, Emma picked it up from where it leaned against the wall. Immediately it felt different, not like the other had felt so right in her hand, and she held it up for them to see.
The blade was similar to the other two, with a plain guard and a golden hilt. In the pommel, however, rested a circle of stones, alternating onyx and diamond, and the guard read neither Clarent nor Caliburn.
"Excalibur," Emma breathed, and she looked up at Regina. "Is it our swords?"
Regina studied it curiously, her fingers trailing over the flat of the blade. "I believe so. Merlin had been the one to split the sword he forged in two. Perhaps he had forged them back in his efforts," she suggested.
"And they were split because they were too powerful as one," Emma said. "Do you think we can break ourselves out of here, then?"
Regina walked to stand in front of the stone seal, holding the torch up. "I suppose it's worth a try," she conceded, and Emma lifted the blade.
"Stand back, kid," Emma warned, as she gripped the hilt with two hands and raised it up. In a swift motion she brought it down, hard on the stone.
"Shit," Emma hissed, her hand throbbing as the blade ricocheted off of the stone and made her hand throb with the force.
"Emma," Regina said with concern, reaching for the throbbing limb. "Are you alright?" she asked, eyes wide with concern.
"Yeah," she said between gritted teeth, her nerves too-sensitive as Regina stroked her fingers over Emma's red knuckles.
"Good," Regina breathed with a small smile that Emma returned.
Reaching down to pick up the fallen Excalibur, Emma's hand slipped from Regina's regrettably. "I don't get it," she murmured, holding up the sword. It was undamaged, but hadn't made a dent. "I thought this was supposed to be the most powerful weapon in this land?"
Regina furrowed her brows as Henry walked closer to them, standing close to Regina's side. "Perhaps this isn't the same sword?" It was a stretch, there simply being a third sword in Merlin's cave, but Emma didn't know why else it wouldn't work.
"There's something written on the back," Henry said, pointing to the side facing the floor. Emma flipped it over, holding it beneath the light so all four of them could see.
"Two together are stronger than one alone," Regina murmured, reading the inscription on the flat of the blade.
"This is them," Emma said, and Regina nodded. "So they should be strongest now, right? Put back together?"
Regina shook her head, reaching out to take the sword from Emma's hand. "I'm not so sure," she said, examining the pommel with a far off expression on her face. "We needed both swords to break the wall," she reminded. "What if Merlin told us what happened, but in reverse; he didn't split the swords to make them less dangerous. He found out they were more powerful as a set and split them."
"Well, I mean, he is evil so I guess that makes sense," Emma said with a pout. "So how do we pull them apart?"
Regina shook her head. "I'm not sure. I suppose it would be like an extraction spell, of sorts. Here," she reached out to take the sword as she passed the torch to Snow.
Regina gripped the hilt and walked to the center of the cave. "Henry," Regina said, eying him near the entrance, "you and Snow should stay back there." She looked to Snow and the other woman nodded, curling her free arm over Henry's shoulders protectively. "Emma?" she prompted, and Emma walked toward her, casting a long shadow as she moved away from the light.
Dropping gracefully to the cold cave floor, Regina sat cross-legged, resting the blade in front of her contemplatively. Emma shifted, unsure of what she was supposed to do until Regina looked up at her, face darkened with shadow, and held out her bare hand.
She took it, fingers curling together with purpose, and sat down across from Regina, just as they had at the beginning of the journey. Regina lifted the blade again, and rested it on her lap. "Are you ready?" Regina asked, squeezing Emma's fingers.
"Yeah," she breathed, focusing her energy, trying to remain calm. It was the first time she'd used magic with her since she got her memories back. The first time they'd done it here with training and warnings echoing in her head.
Eying Emma carefully, Regina's breath quickened, and pressured tugged at Emma pleasantly. She was better at it, now, had more control over what she did and she let Regina pull at her magic, letting it flow out from her toward the woman before her.
Emma watched as the blade seemed to glow with the efforts, the stones of the pommel gleaming, and she braced herself for something big.
It never came. Regina let out a frustrated groan as the sword remained intact, and she dropped Emma's hand. "That did nothing," she sneered, gritting her teeth.
Emma swallowed, and ducked her head a bit to meet Regina's eyes. "Hey," she said softly, "It's OK. You can do this," and took her hand again.
Regina glowered at her, but reluctantly tried again, repeating the same motions and getting the same result. "Is there a different kind of spell, maybe? Like, instead of trying to pull them out, try duplicating?" Emma suggested.
"That won't work," she bit out. "The sword is protected; I can feel my magic hitting up against a wall of defense. It's not that simple. You have no understanding of these things." Emma gritted her teeth and hardened her jaw, not backing down at Regina's aggression. After a long moment, Regina's eyes softened, and she breathed out.
"I'm not a fan of small spaces," she confessed barely over a whisper, and Emma squeezed her hand in silent forgiveness. "You should try, on your own. The purity of your magic," she said with a small sneer, "might work."
It didn't. Nothing did. Over and over they tried, from specific spells to simply willing the two blades to split.
Emma sat on the floor, and leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. There was something that felt off about how they were doing this; pulling magic from each other. It was how they'd always done it, their magic powerful, but this felt more delicate, somehow.
"My sword's pommel had diamonds," she said softly, picking up the discarded sword between them. Regina looked at her with dark, on edge from their lengthening confinement.
"Yes, and?" she prompted.
"Yours were onyx." Regina nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at the sword. "What if the swords aren't about power—"
"But about balance," she finished, licking her lips. "It's worth a try," she conceded, and Emma scooted closer, until their knees were pressed against each other, the sword resting weightless on their laps.
Emma slid off her glove, baring her burnt flesh, and held her palms out. Regina did the same, and took Emma's hands in her own, their fingers curling over the back of the other's hand, and they held each other's gaze.
"Ready?" Emma asked, her fingers already starting to tingle.
"Yes," Regina answered, and Emma's eyes fluttered closed. Letting go her magic, she felt it wash over her, searching toward Regina as it always had. But this time it was different. She didn't simply let her magic go, but she welcomed Regina's back, felt them brush against each other in a shared breath.
They were back at the inn, dancing, palm held against palm as they spun and spun and spun.
They were in sync; a perfect balance of give and take. Where in the past it had been one's magic guided by the other, now it was truly theirmagic, and Emma started to feel breathless with it. Her eyes slid open heavily, and she could see the stones of the pommel glittering, bright light gleaming in a line down the center of the sword.
"Woah," she breathed, and Regina looked over, connecting to Emma as their eyes met. Their clasped hands opened, their palms sliding together in the remembered dance, and Emma's eyes fell to Regina's lips as she smiled, her scar almost faded in the bright light.
In an instant it was over, a small blast echoed out in a soft ripple that pushed their hair back away from their faces. When Emma looked down, Excalibur had become Clarent and Caliburn once more, and Emma smiled widely as she reached for her sword.
"We did it," she breathed, and held her hand out to help Regina up from the floor, their hands lingering together as they stood close. It was a heavy moment—deep with implications about them that Emma wasn't sure she was ready to face—but it was also light, and Emma felt airy and suddenly free.
"Wow," Henry breathed by the stone wall. "That was so cool," he smiled, and Regina's own grin grew wider, freer. Snow stood behind him, her head tilted softly and a serene smile on her face, and it made something in Emma settle.
"OK, kid, outta the way," she gestured toward the deepest part of the cave, and Snow and Henry walked back, giving them room as they readied the swords. Emma held up Clarent as Regina held Caliburn, and in the glittering light of the torch, Emma caught sight of the pommel of Regina's sword; instead of a circle of onyx, there were two small diamonds parallel to each other, disturbing the ring. A glance at her own blade confirmed the same for her; two onyx stones amidst the ring of diamond.
"Emma?" Regina prompted, eyebrows furrowed as she hesitated. With a small nod Emma refocused, and, as they had done earlier, they swung their swords forward into the stone.
For the second time that night it crumbled, small rocks tumbling over each other as moonlight spilled across the ground. Emma sheathed her sword, quickly stepping over the rocks and holding out her hand to help Regina over as she put her own sword back against her hip.
Henry and Snow followed behind quickly, escaping the dark cave and breathing in the fresh air around them. They took just a second to pause, before Emma put her hands on her hips. "OK, so now what?" she asked. "We're free, but we still have no idea where he went or what he's after?"
Regina's face darkened in agreement. "There aren't many—"
A sudden scream echoed around them, and Emma spun to see Snow clutching her stomach as she doubled over. "Mary Margaret!" she shouted, eyes wide as she dropped to her knees by her mother's side. "What happened?"
Snow simply gritted her teeth, gasping out, "It's David," tears slipped over her cheeks. "He's hurt, I can feel it." Henry looked over at Emma, worried, but she simply looked away, unsure how to assuage his fears when her own were running rampant. Snow looked up at Regina, and said, breathless, "He's at the castle."
Regina's face paled, recognition registering on her features, and Emma looked between them, frantically. "Something's wrong at the castle?" she asked, trying to catch up.
"Emma," Snow gasped, clenching at her stomach harder as tears streamed down her face. "When we first got back, we found Rumplestiltskin's dagger."
"OK," she said anxiously, piecing together what Snow had told her without her memory. "But you didn't find him. Neal, Belle, and Ruby went looking for him, right?"
"There's something else—" she gritted her teeth as another wave of pain hit.
"What?" Emma asked, terrified.
"The dagger is back at the castle," Regina breathed.