All Magic comes with a price! Since my good friend giagr32 MAGICALLY made my internet connection work again from more that 3000 miles away, I am more than willing to pay by posting this chapter! Hope you will enjoy!

Chapter 3: Of Good and Evil.

He hadn't wanted her to use Magic, which was not surprising but it hurt nonetheless when her offer had been declined. Her hands had been shaking so much that, without a word, Emma had taken over the care for their son's injuries, leaving Regina with nothing left to do but observe.

A warm feeling had entered her heart when she had seen the blonde winch every time the stinging antiseptic touched his wounds and when an anxious glance was casted her way she had only had to make a gesture to allow the Sheriff to understand what would sooth him.

Watching Emma Swan gently blow air against ragged skin made Regina wish for multiple abrasions, which in turn allowed her to feel awful for having these inappropriate thoughts (again!).

The damage, fortunately, when the blood had been washed away, was less than she had thought. His lip had split (although she doubted it would leave a scar) and there would be some minor bruising around his temple, but she sighed in relieve to see there would be nothing that indicated permanent damage.

At least not visible.

She wanted to ask the questions (Who, what, where, why?) but noticed Emma was already trying to coax them out of the boy, who was merely smiling mysteriously.

It made her heart wrench in conflicting emotions. Their interaction was endearing, but it also made perfectly clear how she was not needed anymore. Henry had found his mother and she had been replaced. Or maybe that was even too big a word. Maybe she had been the temporary replacement, never the real thing, as she had been in her marriage to Leopold.

She closed her eyes and averted them, trying to prevent the tears from falling when she felt the small hand slip in hers.

'Can you do it, mom?'

The smile that broke caused the tears to slip out and trickle down her cheeks. As she pulled him close and hummed the song she had always sung to him when he was hurt, not trusting her voice to utter the words, she let her fingertips hover over his skin, careful not to let her Magic escape.

She caught Emma's eyes staring at her, the hard swallow combined with a haunted look she couldn't quite place, but the woman turned and made a show of organizing the first aid kit again.

When the song was over and Henry had pulled himself loose to get something "really cool" he just "had to show her" she saw him grab his wrist and turn the boy towards her as she crouched to be at eyelevel with him.

'Your mom is having some trouble today saying the things she wants to. Do you know something about that?'

Of all the questions she had suspected, this sure wasn't one and Regina found herself uncharacteristically blinking. (She also was quite sure the snap with which she had closed her mouth after her jaw dropping was much too audible.)

'Maahaaa.'

He hissed the whining sound, and despite herself Regina felt the corners of her mouth being tugged up when he glanced in her direction.

'This is an operation! I can't just skip steps!'

And just like that he pulled himself loose and ran for his backpack.

The blonde rose, awkwardly.

'So… Yeah… I guess you ermmm…'

The former mayor's eyebrows rose. An operation? This was just too confusing.

'He's a lucky kid, you know.'

Breaking out of her reverie, Regina once again met the turquoise turmoil that were Emma Swan's eyes.

' To have you, I mean. You… you know this stuff. I… You have no idea what I would have given for a Mom like that. A Mom like you.'

Thoughts of operations immediately found their way to the back of her head when she saw Emma's struggle. With words, with emotions. And, as if on instinct, she stepped in and reached out, her palm softly caressing the other woman's shoulder.

'Thank you, Regina. Thank you for taking the kid and giving him what I couldn't… For being his Mom… Thank you…'

It was a whisper, hardly louder than the breath that caressed her face and yet it felt louder than anything anyone had ever said to her. She reached up and cupped Emma's cheek in her palm, feeling a tear find its way between her fingers and meander down the back of her hand. And she hoped that the words she couldn't find, the words that blurred her vision, heavied and lightened her heart, constricted her windpipe, she hoped Emma could read them in her eyes.

'Moms?'

They broke apart as if they had been strangling each other instead of…

What actually?

And suddenly Regina felt all her emotions collide in her chest. Disappointment over the loss of contact, endearment over the word her son had just uttered, gratitude for Emma's acknowledgement of her role in Henry's life, and something else that bound it all together, strong, thick and more powerful than her Magic had ever been.

Love.

She felt the smile tug on her lips as she brought her gaze down to her son.

Their son.

But it faltered slightly when she recognized the book he clutched to his chest, and she felt it extinguish completely when he looked at her with insecurity in his eyes.

She swallowed and sat, trying to pull her face into a smile again and utterly failing to do so. It was automatic, her need to build up the wall around her, and she felt the urge to say something hurtful about Emma's awkward stance forcing the woman to sit.

'Why don't we all sit down?'

Of course!

It burned on her tongue, like acid, the remark she had wanted to make and she shook her head to get rid of the cold feeling surrounding her, suffocating her.

But then, Emma's smile, vulnerable and genuine and grateful, floated her way and she felt the icy constriction waver.

'Mom… I… I brought you something.'

Her hand shook as she took the storybook from him, reluctant as if the untrue, or at least incomplete, stories would come out and bite her.

'Henry, I don't know what you want me…'

Her voice sounded hurt, not strict or even just plain inquiry and she saw him, her bright boy, connect the dots before she even could.

'No mom, this isn't the… It's for… Well… Your Story. Sort of…'

Her eyes grew wide as she looked down on the leather bound book in her hands.

Big letters in an old fashioned but familiar font formed the words 'Once upon a Time'. But they weren't bright gold as the ones on Henry's storybook had been. They were laced with a purple hue that reminded her of her Magic, and they seemed to move to meet her fingertips as she traced them.

'Open it?'

She obliged without even as much as a second thought.

Mom,

I am so sorry for not seeing before how YOUR story was missing. I hope maybe, with the help of this book, you will tell me. (I know, I know, I can hear you say already 'You're too young, Henry' and 'It's complicated' but, you know, maybe one day?) I'm sorry that I called you the Evil Queen, I know that's not who you are, at least not anymore. Grandma says everyone deserves a second chance. Can this be mine?

Henry.

Ps. Thank you for casting the curse, because without it, I wouldn't be here… And that would kind of suck.

Pps. I love you.

'Oh, Henry…'

She pulled him close to her and couldn't help but smile brightly through her tears. Her heart ached, reading his heartfelt words, and Emma's bold influence shining through the language made her want to chuckle.

She looked up to the eyes she knew she would find, but was taken aback by the surprised question in them. Did Emma really not know what their son had been planning?

She moved the book so the blonde could read the words and she saw the answer to that question flash in the woman's amazed features while she did just that.

'Go to the next one, Mom!'

Allowing Emma to finish reading the dedication, Regina inhaled deeply, not having the slightest idea what to expect.

They tumbled through her vision, the tokens of gratitude left to her in writing. Some merely stated a 'Thank you for indoor plumbing and penicillin, I guess.' But others were heartfelt monologues about how she had affected lives, for the better. Most were about the curse, she noticed. Some more personal, like the contributions from Kathryn, Red, Archie… But there were also entries about The Enchanted Forest. Granny wrote about the royal wedding, where Regina had insisted on giving food to the poor. Charming, of all people, actually thanked her for banishing Snow so he could find her. (She wanted to roll her eyes, but found them watery instead.) But some people, those who she knew had not been able to find anything to write about, were missing, not in the least the blonde who was reading over her shoulder, although that seemed to be for another reason.

'Why didn't you tell me about this, kid? I would have… You know… Written something, or whatever.'

Oh, how her tongue itched to let slide a remark about the excessive use of that last word and the way it made the blonde sound like a teenager, but she couldn't even fully form the thought.

'Don't they say stories don't mean anything unless you have someone to tell them to?'

He beamed at their astonished faces.

'Well, Mom, I knew you were going to say I was too young, so I just thought maybe, you know, you could tell your story to Emma…'

'Oooooookay.'

The blonde drew out the sound, as if buying time, and Regina couldn't blame her.

'Kid, what… why? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love this, and I bet your Mom does too, but you can't just go around and tell people to share their stories. What is this about?'

Regina allowed her fingertips to graze the words formed by the residents of Storybrooke, words on her behalf… She couldn't help but smile, bitter sweetly, as she realized the tug of her heart at the name that was missing. It was to be expected, and she would never allow herself to admit how much the lack of comment from this particular person actually hurt.

'Well… I thought that, you know, if she shared her story… You could, erm… Take out the thorn?'

Regina's deep brown eyes shot up, to meet her son's in puzzlement.

Thorn?

What was this about?

Emma, obviously more aware of what was going on, groaned.

'Oh, kid…'

'Would you please…?

Be so kind as to tell me what the hell is going on, Miss Swan.

But then, small, warm hands were inside her own and the hazel eyes before her, so much like his birthmother's, twinkled in actual trust.

'Please, try it, Mom? Please? If you just share your story… I know it will help… Please?'

His eyes darted back to the book and hers followed, the pang of pain related to the person missing in the ocean of ink making her swallow.

'Please? I just… Mom, I want you to be happy…'

She gasped, she couldn't help it, and a single tear splashed on the parchment before she pushed the book forward.

Hell no!

'I suppose I could try…'

What?

'If Miss… Emma… Is willing…'

Her mind simply spluttered at those words, but she knew they were true the moment she had said it. She was terrified, but part of her wanted to tell the brave blonde the story of how a young girl only wanting to be good became an Evil Queen. She had just never allowed herself to admit it.

The bright smile on Henry's face made her heart jump and he turned and picked up his backpack once more.

'Wait… I've got it, where is it?'

He pulled out a single sheet of parchment and held it close to his chest, as he had done with the storybook.

'You know, we didn't want you to tear out any pages of the book in case you… Erm… You know… Didn't like it or anything… But erm… Someone kind of already wrote a piece of your story… Just so that maybe, you know, you could have a place to start if you sorta didn't know how to… So… Yeah, it's in there. And this is kind of like… You know… The… Well, just read it. You can paste it in there if you want. Or not…'

His insecurity was only exceeded by his hope when he extended his hand, carefully handing her the piece of paper.

Which, she knew the instant she recognized the handwriting, was so much more than just that.

Regina,

I think a lot of people will agree that the biggest influence in my life, has always been you. They will say you taught me the hard lessons. The ones about hate and pain and loss and revenge.

But what they don't know is how you also were the one to teach me about goodness, about true love, about trust and about sacrifice. Or, Regina, that you taught me everything that makes me the person that I've become. The one who taught and gave me everything I needed to find my happy ending.

I used to believe that it was my mother who had shown me the difference between the right choice and the wrong one. I think it took me 28 years as Mary Margaret to figure it out, to not be just Snow and blinded by everything happening between us. I needed to be shocked back to life, look inside my heart and inside the mirror, to see it was you who showed me what the world was truly about.

Because it was you who argued father, when he planned the ball to look for suitors for my hand. It was you who banished me from the castle, allowing me to see the life of people beyond the protective royal walls. It was you whose life I ruined by taking the worst decision in mine. You who I heard crying every night you spend as my father's wife.

People call me 'Good' and they call you 'Evil' and they don't see what I see every day, every night in my dreams. That the good in you only was diminished by the evil in me.

I can only hope now, you will let me, (and you did make me a teacher in this realm, so blame only yourself) teach you something.

The secret in a story lies not in the words that are printed, but in those that are not.

Your story has always been hidden, by many, not least of all myself. I was sometimes unaware, sometimes ashamed and sometimes simply careless, and for that I truly apologize. I am done trying to hide the worst part of me. Maybe you can be done hiding the best part of you.

Because there is something (and I know this is not something you want to hear, least of all from me) that you have to see about yourself, Regina.

And that is that you want to remain hidden. You want to hide under the covers of leather, behind words like 'Evil'. Because it makes sure that no one ever comes close enough to hurt you again.

Henry told me you said to him you don't know how to love very well.

Regina, you're wrong.

You know it better than anyone and if I knew you wouldn't fry me up with a fireball the moment I tried, I would take you by the shoulders and shake you to see it.

Because you love so true, and so deeply, it scares you.

And it makes you blind to see how loved you really are.

Stop hiding, Regina.

Tell your story and teach us, teach us all the things I know lie in your heart.

And give yourself and others the chance to make it hurt a little less.

**Snow**

P.s. Maybe this is a start.

P.p.s. I'm sorry.

P.p.p.s. I… Never mind.

'Oh, dear…'

The parchment slipped from her fingers, sliding under the table as she felt herself fall back into the pillows of the couch, dizziness slipping in, in the form of dark edges in her vision.

'Breathe, Regina, breathe…'

And for the first time in many decades, she did.

***Earlier that week.***

He laughed. He actually laughed and it had been a long time since he had felt so gleeful. He supposed he had the boy to thank for that. He heard the sound of his laughter turn into the giggle that was his trademark as he pushed the storybook back over the counter.

'No!'

'But, Mr. Gold, you know her, like, the longest!'

He pressed out one last chuckle before he took his cane, leaning on it heavily as he made his way towards the child.

'Yes, my boy, and that is why I know this will never work. Regina is so guarded, she will never allow herself to truly enjoy your gift, see it for what it is. She will never allow herself to believe that people can see the good in her. That was the perfect part in creating her, you see, Henry? She needs so much to be loved, but you will never get her to let her defenses down long enough to actually let them.'

'Creating her!?'

The same words were uttered by two separate mouths and he almost lost his balance as he turned, Belle's beautiful eyes ablaze with rage.

'Belle! I… I didn't know you were…'

He stepped towards her, the cane suddenly a burden instead of helpful as he stumbled over it in his haste to reach the woman he loved. She shook her head as the disappointment he had seen linger in her eyes before take permanent residence there. Her accent, foreign and oh so lovely, stronger than ever when she softly spoke the words that were, indeed, his undoing.

'No, that was clear. I have heard enough.'

He, speechless, watched on as she tugged the storybook under her arm and took the boy by the hand, flashing him a fierce look before slamming the door behind her, sending the little bell above it in a frantic overdrive.

He just stood there.

Realizing there was nothing left to laugh about.

...

TBC

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