Disclaimer: As always, if you recognize it, it isn't mine. In particular, I stole a line of dialogue from one of my favorite authors (full disclaimer is at the end of the chapter).
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As she waiting outside of Snow and Emma's apartment, Ruby was remembering why she'd lashed out so thoroughly in the alleyway the previous night. This conversation was going to suck. Royally. Pun very much intended.
She'd sprinted to the loft from the hospital, and, while running off some anxiety had felt awesome at the time, she was realizing that she hadn't fully thought through the consequences of crossing town at full wolf speed. It was giving her a lot of unwanted time to anticipate the upcoming conversation.
Ruby paced.
What was she going to say? 'Welcome back, Snow! Your husband is with that skank that hunted us for years, killed people we loved, and cursed everyone in town with multiple personality disorder. But don't worry, he swears they haven't slept together. Yet. Because they're definitely going to. And if their make-out session in the diner was any indication—oh yeah, they made out in front of the whole town—then it's going to be really hot when they do. We probably won't see them for days. You should tell Emma to ask for custody of Henry then; I bet Regina won't even put up a fight. Hell, I wouldn't.'
Ruby stopped pacing and smacked herself in the forehead. Not helpful, Ruby. That's probably exactly what you shouldn't say. And thinking about how hot Regina and David's sex life is going to be is just creepy. Even if it's creepy in a hot way. Focus, Ruby.
Great, now she was yelling at herself in her head.
She resumed pacing. Sprinting had definitely been a bad idea.
This was bad. Very bad. Emma had only had parents for three weeks, which was hardly enough time to adjust to the idea. And she wasn't sure if the fact that, biologically, she was only a year younger than her mother and three years younger than her father made the situation harder or easier. And then there was the Fairy Tale thing. How was she supposed to relate to her parents when they grew up in a place that sounded like Medieval Europe when she grew up stealing electronics that they only knew how to operate because of a curse?
How was any of this supposed to prepare her to prevent her mother from committing murder?
As she looked at the hospital in front of them, she realized that she was running out of time to figure it out.
Henry plopped his over-stuffed backpack into the nearest chair in Regina's hospital room and went straight to his mother's side. "How is she?" he asked David, who was still perched protectively around her.
David glanced at Astrid and Grumpy, who had entered behind Henry, and then looked at his grandson. "No change yet, kiddo," he said. "But it's only been a couple hours. And your mom is tough. She'll wake up in no time."
"Yeah," Henry nodded. It did make sense. Astrid had said that his mom was exhausted; he shouldn't expect that to be fixed in two hours. But he didn't like it.
Abruptly, Henry returned to Grumpy's side by the doorway, motioning for him to set down a similarly over-stuffed duffle bag. As soon as the bag hit the floor, Henry unzipped and struggled to pull something bulky from it. "Here," he said, returning to David's side and handing him a king sized pillow in a silk pillowcase the same shade of blue as David's eyes. "It's her favorite," Henry explained.
"Thank you, Henry," David said, taking the pillow and gently replacing it with the hospital pillow underneath Regina's head. He gave his grandson a grateful smile. This gesture would mean the world to Regina.
"We also brought some clothes for all three of you, and some snacks," Astrid offered quietly.
"Thanks," David smiled at his new friends. He'd always liked Grumpy, but he had never really gotten to know him in the Enchanted Forest. He and the dwarves were always more like Snow's personal guard than his friends. And he'd only ever seen Astrid around Storybrooke after he'd woken from his coma. But in the past week, this couple had become two of his favorite people.
"Call us if you need us," Grumpy said gruffly.
"Will do," David replied with a nod.
Life was not fair. She first truly understood this when she was seven and finally had the language to articulate the idea, but, in this moment, she felt how much it applied to her mother. She didn't know what Regina and Mary Margaret's history was, and she didn't care. Mary Margaret was a good person. She didn't deserve to have her husband desert her for anyone, especially the woman that was the source of so much misery. Hell, the woman who had tried to kill her and killed her son in the process. Regina was fortunate that resurrection was possible. Otherwise Emma would have killed her herself. End of story.
Why did she want to prevent Regina's death again?
Right. Because she was the Savior. And she saved people. And Henry asked her to protect his mother.
Damn it.
For better and worse, Emma saw them before Snow did. She gulped, trying to force her lungs to breathe and her gut to release the clenched fist it formed.
They looked so perfect. Like a family.
Her son was reading comic books aloud to his real mother—the mother that had chosen him, the mother that had been able to take care of him, the mother that Emma knew had always loved him, even when she didn't know how—and her father was smiling warmly at them both.
There were empty chairs beside Regina's bed, but there was not any room for Emma.
She felt a slow, strong squeeze through her throat and inside her chest.
But Emma was no amateur when it came to this feeling. So she did what she did best. She shoved it back down into the pit of her stomach to be dealt with later—or, preferably, never.
And then she grabbed her mother's arm and spun Snow around to face her, obstructing their view of David, Regina, and Henry. Without letting go, she said, "Promise me you won't kill her."
"She's nothing more than an evil witch," Snow replied calmly.
"She's Henry's mother," Emma said.
"And so are you," Snow replied. "And do you really think that he is better off with her than with you? With us?"
"I don't know," Emma replied.
Snow, sensing her daughter's wavering, seized the opportunity and began to spin out of Emma's grip, before she felt the fingers clench harder around her bicep.
"Promise me," Emma insisted, the force back in her voice.
Snow looked at Emma sadly. Moments like these forcefully reminded her that her daughter was a citizen of this cursed world and not of her rightful kingdom. She simply did not understand the torment Regina had caused their family and so many others. And it was a ruler's responsibility to protect her people. And it was a mother's right to protect her family. "I can't promise you that."
"Fine," Emma said. "Promise me you won't kill her today."
"What?" Snow replied, startled by the ridiculousness of the request. If Regina needed to be executed, why should she wait?
"You heard me," Emma replied. "Promise me you won't kill her today."
"Emma," Snow chided. "This is ridiculous. Let go of my arm."
"Not until you promise me," Emma replied. She'd promised Henry that she wouldn't let anyone kill Regina, and she was not going to let him down. Not this time. Besides, Regina may never have meant to help Emma, but she had been there when Emma needed her the most. She had taken Henry in when Emma couldn't, and—poisoned turnover or not—that was not a debt Emma would forget any time soon.
Emma adjusted her stance as she recognized the look on Mary Margaret's face. She'd seen it on many a bail-jumper during her storied career as a bounty-hunter. Mary Margaret was sizing her up, trying to decide if she could take her. And maybe she could. Maybe Emma was a fool for taking on Snow White, Warrior Queen, in her full-on battle mode, but this was important. She couldn't let Henry down.
"Maybe you could, maybe you couldn't," Emma responded to her mother's obvious line of thought. "But I don't think you want a scene in the hospital. And," Emma felt like a dirtbag for playing her next card, "I'd like to believe that you care about me more than you care about killing Regina."
"Emma," Snow replied, not quite apologetically. "Of course I do. But you have no idea of what Regina is capable. And if killing her is the only way to break her curse over Charming, I have to do it."
"Fine," Emma said. "If you have to kill Regina to break a curse on David, fine. We'll do it together. Tomorrow."
Snow gave her daughter another appraising look, tinged with respect. "Fine."
"Promise me," Emma said.
"I promise not to kill Regina today," Snow said with an eye roll reminiscent of Mary Margaret.
"Thank you," Emma said, releasing her mother's arm and walking with her toward Regina's room. There was no way that whatever was about to happen was going to end well or in any way be good. It was like watching two trains heading toward each other at top speed, about to collide, and not being able to do anything about it.
At least in this case Emma had ensured there wouldn't be any bloodshed.
She hoped.
Ruby suddenly stopped pacing. "Stupid!" she yelled at herself.
Snow had seen David kiss Regina. Repeatedly. There was no realm in which her best friend would stop and rest before getting to David and "rescuing" him from Regina's clutches.
"I have to get to the hospital," she mumbled to herself before taking off at wolf-speed.
Snow stayed focused. She didn't let herself get distracted by the fact that Regina was unconscious in the same room, the same bed, in which David had been unconscious. She didn't dwell on the fact that the same vase was on the end table next to Regina and contained beautiful purple wildflowers. And she certainly didn't pay any attention to the memories of her sitting where Henry was, reading their story to her comatose true love.
While she stood in the doorway, watching David look at her from beside Regina, she did not allow any extraneous thoughts to intrude. She was on a mission. From what felt like far away, she heard Emma's voice.
"Come on, kid," Emma said. "What do you say we find out if this hospital's cafeteria has cinnamon for us to put on some hot chocolate?"
Henry must have decided to go with Emma, because Snow felt a small form push past her out the door. She heard the glass door shut behind her—the bustle of the hospital dampened—as if the world was muted.
It was just her, David, and a still Regina.
It was time to break the curse.
Snow strode toward Charming, placed her hands on either side of his face, and pressed her lips to his.
"Well, Granny doesn't have to worry about competition from this place," Emma said after sipping the watered-down hot chocolate. The plastic chairs in the cafeteria didn't exactly add to the ambiance either.
"Yeah, even yours is better than this," Henry said.
"Hey!" Emma protested. "I make great hot chocolate!"
"When you don't burn the milk," Henry replied with a small smile. "I didn't even know milk could burn until you made me hot chocolate."
"Yeah, I didn't know that either," Emma mumbled to herself. Then, to Henry, "But I don't burn it anymore! My hot chocolate is good," she stated petulantly.
"Yeah, it is," Henry said with a smile. "I'm glad you're back."
"Me too, kid," Emma said. "Me too."
"Ouch!" Snow exclaimed, closing her eyes and pressing her hand to her burning mouth. When she opened her eyes, she saw David prone on the bed, flinching as though recovering from sudden pain. "What the hell, Charming?" She did not know of any love curses with this effect. It almost seemed like a fidelity charm, but that should only affect David if he kissed someone other than her. What magic had Regina conjured this time?
David grunted and pulled himself off the bed and into the nearby chair, keeping Regina's small hand within his grasp. "You may want to take a seat, Snow," he indicated the chair beside him. "This may take a while. I'd stand, but I'm not feeling very well at the moment."
"Yeah, well, neither am I," Snow replied angrily, plopping down in the chair beside him. She'd spent three weeks wandering through the Enchanted Forest, and Charming thought he didn't feel well? She'd put an arrow through Regina's heart right now and end this whole charade, except that she'd promised Emma she wouldn't. Not today, at least. "And shouldn't we have this conversation somewhere more private?" She looked meaningfully at Regina and the glass walls separating them from the bustle of the hospital workers. If Charming was going to declare his cursed, undying love for Regina, she'd prefer as few witnesses as possible. Though she supposed they had already seen him curled next to her before she entered the room. Still. This was a private family matter.
"I can't leave her," David said, an apologetic look on his face.
"You can't leave her for five minutes to come and explain all of this to me?" Snow snapped, the sight of her husband devotedly holding her traitorous, unconscious step-mother's hand making the pendulum in her heart oscillate between hurt and anger faster and faster by the second.
"I can't," David said, holding up an arm in a gesture of 'please listen.' "I'm sorry, Snow. This is not how I wanted you to find out, and this is not how I wanted us to have this conversation, but I don't have much of a choice."
Snow scoffed. "How could you not have a choice?" she asked skeptically. Then, with sudden comprehension and urgency, she leapt up. "Did she place you under some kind of proximity spell? Those aren't technically curses, so that's why the kiss didn't break it. I'll go get Gold," she declared, heading for the door.
"Snow, wait," David said, suddenly standing, but still not releasing Regina's hand.
Snow turned slowly to face her husband, her heart sinking in her chest as she really looked at David for the first time since returning to Storybrooke.
"Charming, what's going on?" Snow asked carefully. She recognized her husband's bearing. He was gathering his courage. If she didn't know better, she'd think he wasn't cursed. "Why can't you leave her?" she prompted, attempting neutrality in her voice.
"It's a long story, but her heart rate is better when I hold her than when I don't," David attempted a clinical explanation, knowing that there was not any way to avoid inflicting pain on his wife. But she didn't look that pained. She looked determined.
Snow strode toward him and grasped his available hand between her own. "Charming, we can break this curse, this enchantment, whatever it is," she said emphatically. "I know it. Together, we can break any curse—"
"Snow," David said firmly. "I am not cursed."
"Fine, enchanted, bewitched—I don't know all of the terminology, since I am not a witch," Snow said spitefully. "What other explanation is there?" she asked, pleadingly. "You kissed Regina—repeatedly. It's painful when we kiss; this must be the work of dark magic."
"I'm so sorry, Snow," David said. "It's not because of magic." Tears welled in his eyes. He never wanted to hurt her. And if his altered feelings were not hurtful enough, if she insisted that he explain them . . . he didn't want to be cruel. But he owed her the truth. That much, he could give her. "I fell in love with her."
Maybe it was the pain in her husband's expression that was authentic Charming, or maybe she'd never truly believed he was cursed. Either way, Snow's traitorous heart believed him. And it felt like it was shattering.
"How did this happen?" she asked in a small voice, pulling her hands away from his and into her sides.
"While you were gone," David sighed. He had known that this would be painful, but now that the moment was upon him, his heart felt compressed, tightly squeezed in his chest. "While you were gone, Regina volunteered to help me get you and Emma back—I had broken the hat in an attempt to follow you through, so I couldn't just go after you."
"And what was wrong with asking Blue?" Snow snapped. She was hurt, and she was angry. Regina took everything from her. She'd just gotten her daughter back from Regina's curse, and now Regina had taken her husband. "But I suppose she's not your type, so what fun would that be?"
David ran his hand across his face. She wasn't being fair. But nothing about this situation was fair. "Snow, Blue deceived us. You could have gone through the wardrobe with Emma. The wardrobe held two. But she lied to us. Pinocchio, August, went through instead of one of us."
Snow felt as though she'd been sucker-punched in the gut. Did she not have any true friends left? Had she ever had any? Were all of her relationships lies?
"I'm sorry, Snow," David said. "But it's true. I spoke with August and confronted Blue."
Snow couldn't process everything fast enough. She could have raised Emma? Emma didn't have to spend twenty-eight years alone? Her little girl didn't have to be the hurt, isolated, beautiful woman that she was? "So you worked with Regina?" she asked. Best to have David continue his narrative. If she dwelt on the what-if's of the wardrobe, she would spiral into insanity. And she already felt the spinning.
David nodded. "She voluntarily allowed me to have custody of Henry and made the compelling case that she wanted to redeem herself for him." He looked down at the unconscious woman beside him. "I'm convinced that she could barely stand to speak to me at the time. Pretty sure she thought I didn't have much going on upstairs either," he smiled in remembrance of their first meeting in the diner. Then, recollecting that his audience was Snow, he checked his reaction. The purpose of this conversation was not to tell his wife the story of how he fell in love with another woman. Though, it partially was. But he didn't need to be callous about it.
"So we saw more of each other," David continued. "And Regina came to believe that I would have to do magic to bring you home."
"You did magic?" Snow interrupted, aghast.
"No, well, yes, but not much," David sighed. He was explaining this badly. "The point is that Regina helped me to find my magic."
"You have magic?" Snow asked. She did not like the sound of this. Nothing good came from magic. Well, except that she was back in Storybrooke, but, it remained to be seen if that was actually a good thing.
"Yes, and I bet you do too," David replied. "Anyway, when we found my magic, we found something else." He once again looked at Regina's still form. "We found that, when we touch, this kind of magical current flows between us."
Snow's eyebrows shot into her forehead. She did not like the sound of this. Her husband was magically-electrically connected to her step-mother? She felt her gag reflex start to act up.
"It's nothing bad," David tried to convince her. "But her vitals do better and she rests easier when we're . . . connected." Snow looked like she was going to be ill. "I'm sorry, Snow, but I have to help her."
The most unpleasant clarity descended over Snow's thoughts, like an ice bath after a warm rain. "And there is nowhere else you'd rather be," she stated with sick certainty. She knew, because he used to feel that way about her.
"I fell in love with her, Snow," David said. "I don't know how, and I don't know when, exactly, but I did. She thinks you and I should give it another try; she seems to believe that she's not good enough for me, and that you and I can fall back in love just like we did before . . . but I think we both know that's not true."
"Her not being good enough for you?" Snow said incredulously. "That is definitely true. Or, at least, was, before you went and fell in love with her!" David's flinch at her words was not as satisfying as she'd hoped. Exasperated, hurt, and bewildered, she asked, "How could you let this happen? Why didn't you just stay away from her?"
David sighed, "I didn't know it was happening. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun. And then I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that I could betray you in such a way." David shook his head. He still couldn't understand how his heart had strayed without his permission.
"Did you?" Snow asked, taking a deep breath. "Did you betray me?"
Understanding the real question, David had never been so grateful for the painful restraint he and Regina had shown. "No, not like that," David said. "We did kiss each other, but it never went further than that. I am sorry to say that one of our more fervent kisses did take place in the middle of the diner, so you may hear about that. In Regina's defense, she thought she was going to die at the time." He looked down at her again, "Hopefully she'll be wrong about that," he said softly, more to Regina than to Snow.
Snow's feelings were a jumble. Her sense of relief that they hadn't slept together was at once overwhelming and short-lived. Part of her had hoped that Regina had deliberately seduced Charming to hurt her. If that had been the case, then David's heart might have still belonged to her, especially once Regina's deception was revealed. But, if what David was saying was true—and it felt painful enough to be true—then that changed things. The Regina she knew, the Evil Queen of her adulthood, would take anything and anyone that belonged to her just to prove that she could. Even if she didn't care about David, especially if she didn't care about David, she would have slept with him just to hurt her.
"But how could you, David?" Snow asked, abashed. "This woman tried to kill us. Over and over. She destroyed lives."
"She did destroy lives," David acknowledged. He didn't, however, believe Regina had really tried to kill them; they would have been dead many times over had that been the case. His beloved was nothing if not competent. But that was a fight for another day. "But she's not that woman anymore," he said.
Snow just shook her head in shock and pity, like she couldn't believe David had been taken in by Regina's machinations.
"You haven't been here," David told her. "You haven't seen her. She's changing."
"Right," Snow snapped, hurt. "I'm sure she's transformed into the innocent young woman that saved me from a runaway horse."
David didn't rise to her bait, merely shaking his head sadly. "I think that woman died with Daniel," he reflected, looking down on Regina's still form. "But I do think the goodness and love is still there. It's just buried beneath, well, you should know better than anyone. And if you don't, I don't think she would appreciate me telling you."
"So now you're keeping her secrets from me?" Snow shook her head in disbelief. "Charming, what has happened? And I don't remember telling you about Daniel."
"You didn't," David reprimanded. "Speaking of keeping secrets, Regina seemed to think that you would have told me about him."
"Oh, I'm sure she relished telling you how I ruined her life, despite the fact that I was a small child," Snow's hurt was making her petulant.
"Actually," David said. "She left you out of the story entirely. I still don't know what role you played. She told Henry and I about Daniel together, and I don't think she wanted him to feel like he had to pick sides."
"Oh," Snow replied, the wind temporarily taken out of her sails.
"Didn't you always believe that she could change back? Become the loving woman you remembered?" David asked. "You always advocated for her—except for when you drank Rumpelstiltskin's potion and tried to assassinate her," he said calmly.
"And is this why you stopped me?" Snow retorted. "Were you lusting after her even then?"
"You know that's not true," David replied. "I know you're angry, and I know you feel betrayed, and you have every right to feel that way. But don't tarnish the memory of what we had because we don't have it anymore. I did love you. And you did love me. And it was true. I don't know why it couldn't last forever. Maybe it wasn't meant to. Maybe we were supposed to love each other through that trying period in both our lives; maybe we were supposed to help each other grow up, become the people we are now, help each other find our grown-up loves. Our grown-up lives. Because we are different people now, Snow. Now that we're not on the run."
"And now that we've been cursed," Snow looked bitterly at the unresponsive face of her step-mother.
"Blame Regina now, if it helps you, Snow," David said. "But eventually your sense of justice is going to require you to acknowledge that, in this case, she's blameless. She even insisted that I forget about her and stay with you when we got you and Emma back," he said.
"So why don't you?" Snow grasped desperately at the straw she was offered.
"We both know it would be a lie," David replied. "And I'm done living a lie. We both deserve better."
Snow knew conviction when she saw it. The expression was unfamiliar on her Charming, but then, he wasn't her Charming anymore, was he? She blinked the sudden tears from her eyes. "I have to go," she said and began to retreat.
"Snow," Charming said to her back. "I know you'll find what you're looking for. And I also know that you'll find it's not me."
Snow nodded slowly, refusing to face him. "Good-bye, Charming."
"Good-bye, Snow."
"What's wrong, kid?" Emma asked. Even considering Regina's unconscious state, she'd expected Henry to ask her questions about the Enchanted Forest and her adventures with Mary Margaret, but he hadn't asked a single one. Henry wasn't just worried; he was working on solving a problem. She recognized the look from when he was trying to make her believe in the curse.
"What if it is my fault?" Henry mumbled.
"What if what is your fault?" Emma asked.
"Mom being unconscious," Henry said. "What if it is my fault? Astrid said it was magical exhaustion, and she wouldn't have been exhausted if she hadn't been teaching me magic and helping to bring you and Mary Margaret back. And she only did that because of me. Everyone knows she hates Snow White, and you both hate each other. I'm the only reason she would help either of you. And maybe if she didn't, then she wouldn't be sick, and, and—" Henry's upset ramblings were interrupted by a sudden hiccup and Emma's hand on his arm.
"Hey," she murmured. "It's not your fault. Henry, look at me," Emma directed gently. "It's not your fault. Whatever is going on with your mom, she chose it. You're right that your mom and I are not the best of friends, but when was the last time anyone made your mom do anything she didn't want to do?"
Henry cracked a half smile. His mom was bossy, and she didn't take orders from anyone. That was true. Then his smile faded, "But she only wanted to help because of me."
"That doesn't make it your fault, kid," Emma said. All of these emotional conversations were draining her resources. She was more of a woman of action. Give her an angry ogre and a useless gun over a heart-to-heart any day. But this was Henry. So she struggled to find the right words. "That's what moms do. They give their best for their kids. Regina . . . she loves you, Henry. And I know that she doesn't have any regrets about helping you."
"I wish I could help her," Henry admitted.
"I'm sure just hearing that from you helped her a lot," Emma replied.
"I didn't tell her," Henry said.
"Why not?" Emma asked, surprised.
"I haven't really talked to her yet," Henry said.
"Oh, kid, you should talk to her," Emma said. "You should hold her hand and tell her how you feel." Emma was pretty sure that Regina was way too stubborn to die and leave her uncontested custody of Henry, but, just in case, she didn't want Henry to leave anything unsaid. Regrets sucked.
"What if I hurt her?" Henry asked.
"Henry, you won't hurt her," Emma reassured him. His worry was breaking her heart. And why would he think he could hurt Regina? The sensation of everything being topsy-turvy in Storybrooke that had nagged at her since the moment she stumbled from the well was back with a vengeance. Just what had happened while she was gone?
"But I think my magic hurts her," Henry blurted out. "She let us have tacos and pizza on week-days, and she slept for two hours in the afternoon. Mom never sleeps in the afternoon! She wouldn't tell me, but I think this—" he pulled a necklace from underneath his shirt with a big rock on the end of it—"hurts her when I do magic. But she made me promise not to take it off, and now I can't ask her if I should, and David told me not to do any more magic until Mom wakes up, but what if I do it accidentally—I don't want to hurt her anymore."
"Whoa, kid," Emma held up her hand in an effort to stall the flow of words from Henry's mouth. "You do magic?" This couldn't be good.
"Yeah," Henry replied impatiently. "That's how we got you and Mary Margaret back."
"Why didn't Regina do it?" Emma asked. She could feel the anger start boiling in her veins. How dare that witch get her son hooked on magic while she was gone? When she woke up, Mary Margaret would have to get in line; she would kill Regina herself.
"She didn't really explain it to me," Henry said. "But she said that she knew I wanted to help and this would be a good way. And she promised that I wouldn't accidentally kill you, so I got to do the magic for Operation Boomerang!" Henry's apprehension about his mom was temporarily replaced by his pride at his successful magical retrieval of Snow and Emma. He couldn't believe he got to miss school to do something so cool!
Emma was seething. Regina had used her absence to manipulate Henry into doing magic, and David had gone along with it. This was unbelievable. And somehow Henry now thought he was dangerous? This was unacceptable. That woman had a lot to answer for.
"Well, great job, kid," Emma said, hiding her rage. She had to focus on Henry. She had plenty of time later to be pissed at Regina. Again. "Thanks for bringing us home," she smiled. "And I know I'm not an expert on magic, but did your mom avoid touching you while you two were doing all of this magic?"
Henry searched his memory for a moment and then decisively replied, "No."
"Then it must be okay," Emma said. "Let's get you upstairs so you can hold her hand and talk to her. I know she will really like that." And when she finally wakes up, I'll wring her scrawny neck.
"Thanks, Emma," Henry said, still uncertain, but feeling better. Emma always helped.
Snow walked out of Regina's room in a daze. Her marriage had just been dissolved . . . in a matter of minutes. All of that fighting for each other in the Enchanted Forest. All of the times they found each other. To have it just be over. It didn't feel real.
"Snow?" she heard the voice as if from far away.
"Yes?" she responded from habit.
"Let's get you home," Ruby said, linking her arm through Snow's.
"But, Emma . . ." Snow protested, her maternal instincts filtering through her shock.
"Can take care of herself," Ruby asserted. "Now, let's go," the young woman insisted, leading her friend towards the exit.
"David?" Emma asked as she and Henry entered the room. "Where's Mary Margaret?"
"She left with Ruby a few minutes ago," he said from his seat beside Regina.
"Oh," Emma said. Under any other circumstances, she'd be upset that Mary Margaret left without her, but today was a day for allowances. "Henry," she announced, placing her hands on her son's shoulders, "would like a few minutes alone with Regina."
David involuntarily tightened his grip on Regina's hand, loathe to leave her.
Henry noticed his grandfather's discomfort and, also worried about his mom, said, "You could stay right outside the door with Emma. Where you can see the monitors."
"Okay, buddy," David smiled. "Good idea." He hated leaving Regina's side, but he knew that, with Regina, putting Henry first was always the right answer. If anyone could talk her into waking up, it would be Henry.
"Mom?" Henry asked uncertainly as he approached her bedside. Everything was just so weird. He knew his mom was the Evil Queen, even though he wasn't supposed to say that anymore, and he knew that she'd done some really bad things, like trying to kill Emma, but she was good now. And she was his mom. And the past couple weeks she'd been acting like his mom. The mom he remembered from before—before he noticed the curse. He hadn't realized how much he missed her.
"Mom," he choked. "Please come back, Mom. I still need you. There was something hanging on to Emma when I pulled her through and so I had to pull it through too, but then I used the last dimensional portal to behead it, only I think I got its arm too, but I didn't stay to check, because you were hurt, and I don't know if that was right, and I hope that's not why you're hurt, and I just want you to come back. Please. I miss you, and I want you to come back." As his tears fell, Henry sprawled across his mom, wishing she would hug him back.
"Do you have a place where Henry and I can crash for a while?" Emma asked David, not bothering to mask her irritation at his clear attention to Regina's monitors over her shoulder. Intellectually, she knew this man was her father, but she was disgusted with him. How could he break up their family? After twenty-eight years, she had finally found her parents—the poster couple for True Love—and now they were breaking up? Fairy Tales sucked.
"Umm, sort of, but you're not going to like it," David replied, diverting his eyes to Emma's face, temporarily satisfied that Regina's read-outs were acceptable and that Henry seemed all right standing by Regina's bedside.
"What is it?" Emma asked, her patience depleted. She just wanted to take care of Henry and allow her mother-friend the time and space to get drunk, have a nervous breakdown or whatever, without worrying about upsetting a ten year old.
"Henry moved back into his old room at Regina's, and I went with him," David said.
"Really?" she asked, her tone laced with judgment. How could he do this? Sure, Regina was hot, but really, to move in with the woman already, and while his wife was missing? Really?
"Emma, it's not what you think," David protested, but he knew his obsession with watching Regina's monitors was doing nothing to help his case.
"Whatever," Emma replied. She was too tired to deal with this shit. "Don't worry about it," she said, disgusted. "I'll take Henry to the loft with me." If Mary Margaret was too upset to be around Henry, she was sure Ruby would be willing to let her crash with her for a few days while Emma and Henry stayed in the loft.
"Emma," David pleaded. "It was just for the past few days while she got Henry ready to do the spell. We wanted him to feel comfortable and safe, so we had him move back into his old room for the familiarity, and I moved into the guest room down the hall. And Regina made it quite clear that it was a temporary arrangement, and she was kicking me out as soon as you and Snow returned."
"Well, good luck finding a place then," Emma replied. "Because you are not living in the loft either."
David knew how his love for Regina must look to Emma. Under the curse, she had seen spineless David Nolan unable to choose between his wife, Kathryn, and Mary Margaret. Now, just after discovering that they were all family, he abandons them for the woman that caused all of their problems. He had broken Emma's trust without ever having a chance to gain it. His little girl. All he'd wanted in the world was to protect her. Before he could say another word, though, his peripheral vision catalogued Henry's small form launching itself at Regina.
And then there was white.
.
.
Disclaimer (cont.): "I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun." – Mr. Darcy, Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen
Also, thank you to .Winter for the description of Snow in "battle mode." I couldn't have said it better myself, so I didn't.
A/N: I apologize for the long wait on this one. As several of you know, life got a bit nutty for me this month. I'll try to get the next chapter up within a week. And, as you can probably tell, we are nearing the end of this particular tale. I'm not sure how many chapters are left (could be one, could be five), but we are in the home stretch. Thank you again for your support of this story, and I'd love to know what you think of this installment.