An Elementary School Playground, 1983

"Remember what I told you, Helena." The enthusiastic six-year-old's brown locks bounced when she nodded. "Let's practice." Henry reached into his pocket and retrieved a handful of skittles he'd traded his dessert for at lunch. Helena's grin and brown eyes widened at the sight of the candy. "Pretend that I want you to swallow this one whole." Henry's little sister opened her mouth and put out her tongue. Henry placed a green skittle on her tongue and handed her a cup of water. "Now remember. Slide under, swallow the water, stick out your tongue."

Helena nodded. She took the cup in her hand, opened her mouth wide, and maneuvered the skittle underneath her tongue before taking a dramatic slurp. Then she looked up at Henry and grinned. He couldn't help but smile back. "Almost. You're supposed to take the drink and close your mouth before you hide the pill. Try again. If you do it perfectly five times in a row, I'll let you eat the rest of the candy."

Helena flicked the skittle she already had in her mouth back onto her tongue. "Can I eat this one now?"

"Sure." She smiled as if she'd just been handed the moon, then chomped down on the candy. "The skittles are even bigger than the sleepy pills Mrs. Claymore gives us," she remarked.

"Exactly," said Henry. "That means that after practicing with the skittles, hiding the pills will be easy."

"Did they give us sleepy pills in The Enchanted Forest?" asked Helena. Henry flinched with surprise at her question. Now that she was old enough to begin to understand the story he still told her whenever they were alone together, she was asking lots of questions about it. The questions were often so out of left field they were amusing, such as when she'd asked earlier if they had spitballs in The Enchanted Forest. But this one was more serious somehow.

"No," Henry finally said. "They didn't. Our parents never would have done that to us."

"What about the horses? Did they give sleepy pills to the horses?"

"No."

"Do you think that Daniel and Regina will let me ride on their horses after we find them?"

Henry looked away for a moment. "I'm sure that they would love to let you ride on their horses," he finally said.

Helena grinned. "Will they let me ride on Ross-nantay?"

"Probably not. I was a little younger than you last time we saw them, and the only one they let me ride on was Tickles."

"Will you teach me how to ride on Tickles?"

Henry laughed. "Maybe someday. For now, I'm gonna teach you how to hide skittles under your tongue."

"Okay." The little girl obediently stuck out her tongue.

Although Helena's enthusiasm for anything related to horses had died the day she realized that the story Henry had been telling her couldn't possibly be true, and Virginia only remembered having been around them recently, they'd both grown to love everything about working in the barn. The surroundings brought a calming feeling of familiarity to their otherwise complicated lives. The one thing they both admitted they'd rather do without was the long walk home afterwards, especially after hours of manual labor.

"I wish there were some way I could afford a car right now," said Virginia. "Not that I'd know how to drive it even if I could."

"Your mother never taught you how to drive?" Virginia shook her head. Of course she hadn't. "I'd teach you if I had my car here."

"I wonder if Michael Zimmer would let you pick up Henry's car when he finishes working on it."

"He might," Helena realized. After all, everyone in town knew about Henry's predicament. "I'll ask him tomorrow. He's had that car nearly three weeks, I hope he's done with it by now. I've only met him once, when he was towing Henry's car to the shop, but he seemed quite a bit overwhelmed with his kids and life in general."

"I'm not surprised," remarked Virginia. "I overheard a few people talking about him at Granny's. His wife, who no one seems to remember, died a few years ago. He's been alone with the twins ever since."

"That's a tough situation. Maybe if there's something I can do to help him, he'll move things along faster."

Just a few yards away, hidden behind a shrub near the front door of Granny's, Mayor Mills was shaking her head.

"One day you will learn, Helena," she whispered to herself. "When you try to help someone, you only make things worse for them."

"Can I help you?"

The mayor turned and straightened herself up at the sight of Granny, who was eyeing her suspiciously.

"I heard something happened here. I was just wondering if your business was still open."

"Not for people who consider it to be beneath them," huffed Granny. "Have a good night, Mayor Mills."

The mayor flinched as if she'd been slapped. "You're…refusing me? You can't do that."

Granny smiled. "I think I just did."

Helena's poison was spreading throughout Storybrooke even faster than the mayor had feared. First they had stopped looking up at her in complete and utter terror and leaping out of her path at the snap of a finger. Now they were learning to refuse her. For twenty-eight years, those who were brave enough to address her at all robotically spouted out, "What can I do for you, Mayor Mills?" the very instant they met her expectant gaze. Now service people addressed her as if she were any other customer at the grocery store and the pharmacy and most restaurants. Sometimes people walked past without so much as a curt nod in her direction, as if she wasn't even there. First fear had gone. Then respect. Soon she would have nothing. And it wasn't lost on her that those who regarded her with the greatest amount of contempt were those who had come into contact with Helena, and Virginia, the mayor's own daughter, the person who should have been the last to slip away, had been the first to turn on her. Because of Helena.

Both of the mayor's last two plans had backfired. Helena had helped find and save David and Mary Margret and helped Mary Margret leave her father and move in with David. Helena had encouraged Ruby to work things out with Granny, and Sidney's destruction of the diner had only brought Ruby and Granny closer together. And closer to Helena. Henry may be the Stable with the ability to break the Dark Curse, but Helena was methodically crumbling it with something almost as dangerous as magic: hope. Thanks to her, the victims of the Dark Curse were beginning to once again believe in the possibility of a happy ending.

There was no question about this. Helena would have to die. But not now. At just the right moment and as the result of just the right tragic accident. Murder wasn't something the mayor had had occasion to consider before in Storybrooke, and not in a very long time had her methods required any planning or preparation. Not since King Leopold's precious Eva. Killing the queen had required her to shape shift twice and impersonate two extremely irritating individuals. If only the mayor's shape-shifting spell worked in Storybrooke. If only any magic worked in Storybrooke! Rumpelstiltskin had never said anything to her about this being a land without magic before she enacted the curse. She'd been quite outraged when she'd first woken up in her mansion and discovered she couldn't cast spells here until she realized the sheer power she had here was better than magic. And damned if she was about to let it fade away.

Something else had changed since the day Rumpelstiltskin first implored her to consider exactly what she had wanted to accomplish by casting the dark curse. He'd told her that she could destroy the happiness of everyone who was in the same kingdom as her when the curse was cast if she wanted to. She'd told him she hadn't needed to make them miserable, she'd only needed to make herself happy. Now, she was beginning to realize, maybe her own happiness and her people's misery were synonymous. Maybe they needed to be miserable to stay submissive. She relished the thought. Once Helena died, Virginia would lose her way, Henry would be forgotten, and everyone else would be so grief-stricken that change would be the last thing on their minds, leaving the mayor to slowly but surely regain control.

The following morning, Helena found Michael Zimmer at the car repair shop frantically throwing open the doors of random cars and checking inside.

"Looking for something?" asked Helena. The man jumped and turned around to face her. For a moment, it seemed he might be startled to see her specifically.

"My…my kids. I think they ran off. I can't find them anywhere. They're not in the house, and if they were out here somewhere they'd be making noise."

"Let's walk over to the police station," Helena suggested. "I just came over to ask a few questions about my brother's car, but that can wait."

"It's still not ready to be picked up yet," said the mechanic, already stepping out the front door. Helena followed him out and looked at him expectantly as he fumbled for his keys and a viable excuse. "There's a…uh…part that needs to come in. A couple of parts, actually. It's an old car, ya know?"

"I understand," said Helena. "Could you let me know when it's ready, though? I know Henry gave you his number, but I'm sure you're aware that he's unavailable at the moment."

"Yes, sure," said Michael as they started down the sidewalk. "I promise."

"You seem…stressed," remarked Helena as they walked. What she'd really wanted to say was "overworked".

"Well, yeah. My kids are missing." He gave Helena a desperate look with an edge of irritation, daring her not to drop the subject. She did. She knew she shouldn't be talking to him about his life in general right now, or thinking about how long it was going to take him to fix Henry's car on top of everything else he was apparently dealing with.

And speaking of cars, the mayor's was parked outside of the sheriff station.

"What's going on?" asked Helena when she stepped inside, followed by Michael Zimmer. Graham was on the phone, and Ruby was at her desk. The mayor, who was standing in front of Ruby's desk reading a document, smiled an unsettling smile to herself.

"Don't you just love how some people presume that everything that goes on in my town is their personal business?" said the mayor coldly and to no one in particular.

"No, Mayor Mills," said the man who'd vandalized Granny's the other day. He was leaning back awkwardly against a pillow he'd propped on the floor of his cell.

"That wasn't a real question," she said sternly, but she was pleased with the way he'd addressed her. At least some people still had courtesy.

Helena noticed the mayor sign a piece of paper and hand it to Ruby. "Is that everything you need?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Ruby. Then she filed the document, stood up, extracted a ring of keys from a drawer on Graham's desk, and moved to open the cell that contained the prisoner.

"Wait…are you bailing that man out of jail?" Helena blurted out.

The mayor turned to face her. "Difficult as it may be for you to believe, dear, not everything that happens in my town concerns you." Ruby released the prisoner, who left the building followed by Mayor Mills. Ruby looked to Helena and shrugged helplessly as Graham hung up the phone and looked straight over at Helena.

"What can I do for you?" asked Graham.

"My children are missing," Michael explained, still nervously planted at Helena's side. "I think they ran away."

"You have six-year-old twins, right?" asked Graham.

"Yes."

"That might explain why Miss Ginger just gave us a call about alleged midget prowlers outside her house."

Helena turned to the sheriff. "Miss Ginger?"

"You haven't met her. She's a blind hermit who lives in the woods and keeps to herself. According to her, the children were outside her house making noise until about five minutes ago. Why don't you take this one, Ruby?"

"I'd love to, but my shift is almost over, remember?" said Ruby apologetically. "If Granny didn't need help cleaning up the diner I'd try to stay, but…"

"It's fine," said Graham. "Just finish your shift and lock up. I'll go out and look for the twins. Michael, you should go home and wait in case they come back." Michael nodded. Graham turned and glanced at Helena. "You know, if you have nothing better to do, I could really use the help."

"Sure. But we'll have to take your car."

"Of course. I know your car is in Boston and Henry's is still in the shop." Michael Zimmer looked away from both of them, guilt written on his face so prominently Ruby thought she could smell it. Fortunately for him, her attention had been redirected by curiosity.

Graham cleared his throat. "Why don't you come over with me, for a moment, Mr. Zimmer, and give me a quick description of the children?" Both men exited the sheriff station.

"How many times have you ridden in the police car with Graham?" asked Ruby.

"Four," Helena answered after a moment's thought. "Five if you count this time." Ruby looked down and unsuccessfully attempted to hide a smile. "What?"

"When I asked him if I could go on patrol with him, he told me he never lets anyone sit in that car except for him. Ever."

"What are you talking about?" Helena protested. "He let you and Mary Margret ride in his car just a few days ago!"

"Yeah, when she was seriously injured and we didn't know what was wrong with her and he needed me to sit with her and make sure she stayed alive. I don't think that counts."

"But he's been letting me ride in his car with him since the day I met him!" As soon as those words were out, Helena scowled and looked away to avoid the younger woman's smirk.

"Helena!" Graham called from outside. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah!"

Graham decided to park his car near Miss Ginger's house and continue the expedition on foot.

"Nicholas!" he called. "Ava!"

"I see something," said Helena. She lifted a fresh muddy candy wrapper from the ground. Graham took it from her and put it in his pocket as he mentally noted the location where it was found.

Graham and Helena both jerked in the direction of a shrill scream. Graham's heart pounded for a second before he realized it had come from inside the cottage.

"The midget prowlers! The midget prowlers are back!"

"Miss Ginger, it's me!" Graham called. "Sheriff Graham! The people who were here earlier weren't midget prowlers. They were lost children."

Graham and Helena paused, both waiting for a response. They heard a few clunky footsteps, then a crash, and then a bang. Then the front door flew open and out burst a woman with bright blonde hair and long scraggly fingernails. Both Graham and Helena were putting in considerable effort not to appear unnerved by Miss Ginger's presence.

Graham cleared his throat. "Can you tell us anything about what the children said, or what direction they might have gone in?"

"No. They didn't talk to me. I heard one say to the other that they were supposed to meet someone out here. I think they went north. But I'm not sure. I wish I'd known they were children. I might have offered them some cookies."

"No, you did the right thing calling the police," said Helena. Too late, she remembered that the woman hadn't been able to tell she was there. Miss Ginger rapidly whipped her head in Helena's direction.

"Helena's right," said Graham. "You did the right thing."

As soon as Helena's name left Graham's lips, Miss Ginger let out an inhuman squeal of delight.

"It's you! I knew you would come!"

Graham shot a glance in Helena's direction. She just shook her head and pondered how to respond to the woman. She was almost afraid to say anything at all.

"I never gave up hope, and now you've finally come!" Helena flinched when Miss Ginger reached out and touched her shoulder, running her long fingernails down Helena's arm. "You and your brother. The man who chose your family wanted me dead. He wanted to make sure that I never ate anyone he needed. But I protected myself against your kind and now in Storybrooke I can eat chocolate like a human."

At this point, the expression on both Graham and Helena's faces suggested a cross between electrocuted and finding a pot of gold.

"How do you know my brother, and why does he want you dead?"

"No, no!" Miss Ginger stepped back. "Not Henry. The Dark One! He isn't the only one who knows who he is in this town. He isn't the only one who can See. He should have known I never would have eaten Henry. He's too important. You know how important your family is, don't you missy?"

Helena took a huge step back from the blind woman. "Um…of course. But…we have to go now."

"It won't be too much longer before the witch of hearts comes after you," Miss Ginger hissed. "If only you can remember that the enemies of your enemies are your friends, everyone will survive."

"It was lovely talking to you, Miss Ginger," said Graham quickly as he put his hand on Helena's elbow. Both of them shuddered at the sensation of each other's touch but were more focused on getting away from Miss Ginger than anything. They took off at a near jog up the shabby excuse for a path that led north. After about five minutes, Helena stopped to pick up another candy wrapper.

"At least she was right about the direction the kids went in," Graham finally said.

"Do you have any idea how the hell she knew my brother?" asked Helena.

"Not at all. I've never seen Miss Ginger behave quite that oddly before, but if I were you I wouldn't read too much into her crazy."

"But she knew Henry's name! And she knew I'm his sister."

"If she's spoken to anyone at all in the past three weeks, chances are she's heard of you. As I'm sure you've noticed, we don't get very many newcomers in Storybrooke."

Helena shrugged it off. In her head, she surmised that Miss Ginger must have met Henry at some point, maybe when he was patrolling in the woods. And apparently, he'd rubbed off on her.

"Well, thank God she didn't end up inviting the kids into her house," Helena finally said.

"Amen to that. I'd say they dodged a bullet."

Both Graham and Helena froze when they heard a high-pitched giggle.

"Nicolas!" Graham called. "Ava! Is that you?"

A few seconds later, the two six-year-olds with matching mud-caked shoes and red cheeks tore into view.

"Where have you two been?" asked the sheriff. "Your father's been worried sick about you."

The little girl frowned. "We're sorry. We thought that this was where we were supposed to go."

Helena knelt down to the twins' level. "What do you mean you thought this was where you were supposed to go?"

The girl fidgeted with her sloppy braids. "Aren't you the ones who left us the note?" her brother asked.

"What note?" asked Helena.

"This note," said Ava, pulling the crumpled slip of paper from her pocket. Helena glanced at it and then handed it to Graham. All it said was, "Nicholas and Ava, come out to the woods near Miss Ginger's cottage right now or you will be in big trouble."

"Where did you find this?" asked Graham.

"On the table when we came down for breakfast," said Ava. Her brother was absentmindedly running his dirty fingers through his hair and kicking a stone. "It's not Daddy's handwriting, so we know he didn't write it."

Helena glanced around the area frantically, unnerved by the idea that someone was supposedly coming to meet these kids out here. She took one of each of their hands in her own protectively. "Let's get out of here."

Michael Zimmer had no words as his two children ran through the front door followed by the sheriff and Helena Stable. The relief he felt at having them back was overwhelming, as was the guilt over what he was doing to Helena and her brother. The ethical dilemma had been weighing on his conscience ever since he had signed that document Mr. Gold had drawn up stating that for every day that Henry's car remained in the shop he would pay less rent for that month. He knew that Mr. Gold had written up that contract for the sole purpose of preventing the Stable siblings from leaving Storybrooke. And now one of them had just rescued his children.

"I have no idea who came into my house and left that note for them," said Michael to Graham after he explained why the kids had run away. "I don't understand how someone even came into the house to do that. The front door was locked."

"I would recommend installing a security system as soon as possible," said Graham, who handed Michael a business card for Storybrooke's electrician. "If anything comes to mind about who might have wanted to do this, let me know."

"Will do. Thank you, sheriff." Michael looked away. "And you too, Helena."

"Of course. I'm just glad they're safe."

Michael sighed. "Helena…about your brother's car…I really am sorry it's taking so long."

"Don't worry about it."

He couldn't look her in the eye as he thanked her again for her patience. He really was sorry, but his family needed the money too badly for him to pass it up. For any reason.