So I've been receiving requests to take this story in my own direction so...here it goes.

I didn't know where I was, but it didn't matter. I was surrounded by a white fog, that wouldn't clear. I felt alone, incredibly alone. There was no sound around me, no people, no sights even. And then that all started to change. The white fog turned purple, and dissipated. There was a beeping, and a sense of urgency. The hospital materialized around me, and Henry was on a bed in front of me. I remember this. The time he was poisoned.

I felt the same terrified urgency I had felt then, and in desperation I looked around. His book bag was on the bed next to me. I flipped it over, dumping it out on the bed. Out came Henry's fairy tale book, and just like I had such a short time ago, I picked it up, feeling the tales of all the story rush into my mind. It was as if I'd been there the entire time, and should have believed all along. I turned around, and there was Regina, in all her terrified glory.

"Where's my son!?" Her voice broke, and she was clearly on the edge of tears. My mind wanted to react in all kinds of different ways, but my body acted as I had on that day, grabbing Regina by the arm and throwing her into a supplies closet. I threw her into a set of metal shelves. "What the hell are you doing?" She screamed, as cleaning supplies rained down around her.

"You did this!" I grabbed her, slamming her into a set of lockers. She tried to fight me back, but I grabbed her by the arm and slammed her back, pinning her by her wrist and by her throat. "He's sick because of you! That apple turnover you gave me, he ate it."

"What, that was meant for you!" Her shock and her answer had told me everything I needed to know. It was poisoned. Henry had been right.

"It's true, isn't it?" I could feel my emotions all over again: the anger, the passion, the fire in my blood.

"What are you talking about?" She sounded surprised, but I knew. I had picked up the book, and from it I had learned everything I needed to know. She could fool me no longer. I'm not an idiot.

"It's true isn't it? All of it." I screamed at her, not relinquishing my hold on her.

Suddenly, all the fight was gone from her, and she gave me nothing more than a simple, "Yes."

"I was leaving town, why couldn't you leave things alone?"

She growled the words at me. "Because as long as you're alive, Henry will never be mine."

"He will never be anyone's unless you fix this. You wake him up."

"I can't!" She shouted, the desperation flooding her voice.

"Don't you have magic?" Now I knew the answer, but my trapped body was reliving this memory again, as if I had no choice at all.

The tears began to spill over, as she shook her head. "That was the last of it. It was supposed to put you to sleep." She paused, and I realized I still hadn't released her. "Magic is different here. It's unpredictable." The tear poured down her face, and she hung her head.

Suddenly I felt different. I was in control of my own actions again, my own emotions and movements. I looked at the Regina in front of me, the emotional, vulnerable woman. Not an evil queen, not a mayor, just a woman afraid for her son. "I know." I replied, and after a moment's pause, I leaned in and I kissed her. She froze under me at first, the tears still on her face. I kept kissing her, and she stayed still underneath me. I began to pull back from her, realizing my mistake, when she took the arm of hers I didn't have pinned to the lockers and snaked it around my waist, pulling me back to her. She kissed me back, and I released the hold I had on her, putting my hand on the side of her face, kissing her deeply. She pulled back a second, searching in my eyes. "He's my son." She murmured.

"He's our son. And he will be alright. With us. With both of us." She kissed me again, wrapping both her arms around my neck.

"Do you believe that?" She asked me between kisses.

"Of course I do." My hands traveled her body, and I kissed down the side of her neck.

Her hands were lost in my hair. "Oh Emma," she half moaned, and I pulled her closer to me, kissing her again.

The scene changed again, and I found myself still breathless, hovering over Regina. Her dark hair, short and severe but at the same time beautiful, spilled around her face and over her pillows. In her sleep she appeared the way I'd always secretly seen her. Vulnerable. Suddenly her face was scrunched up, as if she'd seen something that surprised her. And then a smile crossed her face, bright and unexpected as the sun shining through a break in storm clouds. And from my odd viewpoint of above her, I heard something amazing. "Oh Emma." Regina said clearly in her sleep. "Together, we will be alright."

"Regina." I said. And her eyes opened, and in that instant she sat straight up, as if she'd heard me. Then I was gone.

I sat straight up in my bed, tears running down my face. It had all been a dream, but something about it was real. Too real. Emma with her arms around me, kissing me. And what had she said? Henry. Henry is our son. I wiped the tears from my face, laying back down and closing my eyes again.

Emma. I thought. Please, return to me. Henry is our son. We need him and he needs us. And in that moment I saw something. Emma and Mary Margaret. They were lying on a stone floor, surrounded by rubble. Emma was just starting to stir, shifting things from around her. She looked slightly confused, but that would be expected in her current situation. I could view her from above, as if I was sitting on a tower wherever she was. In my concern, I muttered one word, "Emma." She sat straight up, looking up at me as if she could see me. I gasped and opened my eyes again, sitting straight up. It seemed as if sleep was no longer in the plans for me, so I got up and began to get dressed. I paused a few times, replaying the dream over and over in my head. The thought of Emma pushing me up against a wall, pinning me there, and kissing away my tears caused me to collapse on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands. I ran my hand up and down the arm Emma had pinned to the wall, pretending it was her hand and not mine. My hand hit an odd ridge on my arm. I opened my eyes, looking at my arm. There was a mark there. It looked like… A handprint.

There was a mark on my arm where Emma had grabbed me yesterday. It looked almost like a scar that was very close to becoming my own skin again. This was where the magic had passed from Emma to me. I stood up, walking in front of the full length mirror in my room. I turned to my side, looking all the way around my arm. It was definitely a handprint. I pulled on a pair of high-waisted black pants. I went to my closet, and preoccupied, I pulled out a sleeveless shirt. The weather in Storybrooke was already slipping from late summer to a chilly fall. A sleeveless shirt would never suffice, especially with this handprint on my arm. I hung the shirt back up, selecting a light blue long sleeve shirt. I looked at the mark on my arm one more time before I pulled on my blouse, tucking it in to my pants. Rumplestiltskin's words echoed through my mind. Magic always comes at a price. And that made me wonder, What was the price paid for this magic. What had it cost Emma?

Who wants to know the price Emma paid, eh? Let me know what you think!