Author's Note: I know there is an episode in season 1 where Regina tries to take Hansel and Gretel. For the purpose on my story I'm disregarding that part and using a more traditional tell of the tale.

/

Parking her bug in front of the modest one-story home, Emma was greeted with the sight of a father and his two children playing basketball, a new hoop having been erected since her last visit. Michael Tillman held the orange ball over his head, while Ava and Nicholas sprang around him, tugging on his coat to try and reach it. The man struggled against them to take a shot, launching the ball toward the basket; it thumped coyly around the rim but didn't fall through the hoop. Nicholas scrambled to retrieve the rebound, dribbling away from his sister who was in hot pursuit.

As Emma slammed her door shut, the three people turned to her presence, watching her amble up the driveway.

"Emma, what are you doing here?" Nicholas asked, tucking the ball under his arm.

"We have an appointment today. I'm just here to check up on you guys." Emma began to realize perhaps she'd made a mistake. "Though I suppose your father has always been your father and should have always had custody since your Hansel and…"

"Ava." The girl supplied before Emma could finish.

"I'd still like to be Hansel." The boy informed her in a matter of fact tone.

"Hansel and Ava." She acknowledged with a smile. "Looks like you are all good here. I guess I'll be heading out then-"

"No, I'm glad you stopped by." Mr. Tillman said. "Kids, why don't you go inside and watch cartoons for a bit and then we'll start lunch. I'd like to speak with Sheriff Swan for a minute."

The children did as they were told, running off and already playfully arguing over whose turn it was with the remote controller, each claiming the other had it last. The father wistfully watched them disappear through the garage. Emma shoved her hands into her pockets and asked cautiously, "Everything going okay?"

He redirected his attention to her as he cleared his throat. "Yes we're good. I just wanted to say thank from before, for helping keep my family together."

She waved him off. "It was nothing you wouldn't have done if you remembered them."

"I- it's not that simple." His voice dipped, a pain expression spread across his face.

She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"You have to understand, back there, life was hard. My wife died of what probably amounted to the flu. After that, I couldn't support my family. I couldn't put food on the table. I sent them into the forest for firewood but…" The man strained under the weight of the memory. "What good was firewood if we were just slowly starving? When they didn't come back, I didn't look for them."

Emma didn't know how to what to do with his confession. Her anger flared white hot that he could be so callous, so negligent. She wanted to demand answers. Why wouldn't have go after them? How could he do that to his own children? However the question got caught in her throat, balling into a large knot just under her chin as she recalled that her own parents sent her into the unknown. And then she had given Henry away. They were all just humans in desperate situations, making mistakes or trying to give everyone the best chance or running away from everything before it could hurt you. Michael's voice cracked, "We weren't separated because of the curse. It was me. It was my fault."

Unshed tears rimmed his eyes, pleading for absolution. She swallowed, letting her outrage recede, and said, "What matters is you are together now. This is your second chance to make right by them. Dwelling on the past won't change it. It would only hurt your chance at a future. Just… moved forward and love them the best you can."

His shoulder slackened, head dropping as he nodded vigorously. "I will. I promise."

"And I'll be around. I'll still be checking in on you." Her voice hardened.

"Thank you." He swiped at his nose, sniffing deeply. His eyes met hers once again as he pulled himself together. "You're good at this, at leading people."

"I'm just doing my job." Her finger unconsciously brushed against the gold of her badge clipped to her hip, solid and cold.

"No, I mean it. The townsfolk have been talking. They were impressed with you yesterday the way you helped people. They trust you." He said earnestly.

Emma licked her lips. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What do you think of all this? The curse?"

Michael considered for a moment, "Like I said life on the other side was hard and I meant it. A lot of people were poor. There was war and disease. If my wife had gotten sick here, she would probably still be alive… I think that is why Ava doesn't want to be called Gretel. She remembers more of the hardships, more of her mother's sickness than Hansel does. She wants to leave all of that behind."

"You wouldn't go back if you had the chance?"

"We may not have a lot here." He gestured to his worn-out little house. "But it's more than we had. I can provide for my family here. My kids have a chance at an education. For me, and I think a lot of people would agree, we are better off in this world."

She absorbed his words, "And the person responsible for the curse, what do you think you should happen to her?"

"I can't speak for everybody but I like what you said. This is our second chance. I think that should apply to all of us."

"I hope you're right." Emma forced a smile though dread hollowed out her stomach.

Michael nodded, his eyes searched her with great interest and she knew what he was thinking about. The whole town must know by now how the curse came to be broken and Regina's integral role in that. She waited for him to gather his courage as he nervously tugged on his ear, his gaze casting downward, "Beside I've heard the Evil Queen also helped break the curse… Is that true?"

"Yes, it is." Emma nodded her affirmation and waited for his judgment, his face falling in horror or peeling up in disgust. But it never came.

Instead he slowly asked, "And she helped defeat that dragon woman?"

"She did."

Emma watched as he mulled over the information. Finally he gave her an affable grin, "Love certainly works in mysterious ways."

"Yes, yes it does." She extended her hand for him to shake. "It's been good talking to you Mr. Tillman."

"And you Sheriff." Emma began walking back down the drive then suddenly spun back around, an idea occurring to her.

"Actually, I have a request for you if you'd be willing."

"Anything." Mr. Tillman assented quickly.

"They are going to hold tribunal for Regina."

"I've heard that as well."

"So you know that the people will have a vote in addition to whoever the council is. I'd like for you to represent the people."

"You want me to cast the citizen's vote?" His voice and brows arched in surprise.

"Yes. But I want you to really talk to the other townsfolk to find out how they feel. I want the truth."

"And if the consensus is guilty?"

The feeling of the hollow pit inside her expanded, "Then that's the will of the people."

/

Emma crept down the steps into the dim apartment, jacket already on and boots in hand. She'd sat up in bed as the rest of the household settled into sleep. Now Henry had drifted off hours ago and the downstairs lights had extinguished over an hour ago and she couldn't stand another minute of waiting in the dark. She skipped the stair third from the bottom as it had a tendency to loudly creak, her heart thudding in her ears like she were making a daring escape. There was more to the palpitations than sneaking off into the evening however. It beat heavily in anticipation for her destination.

Avoiding direct thoughts of the white house on Mifflin Street and the woman who resided there was easy enough during the day with the distractions of work, her parents, and Henry; all vying for her attention. Regina never truly receded away though. In moments throughout the day, Emma could feel her, like she were just in the other room and all she had to do was open the door fast enough to find her waiting there. But tonight when the sun went down and Emma didn't have any demands on her, Regina dominated her mind.

Her emotions ranged from wanting to go and scream at the brunette to never wanting to see her again. And when the anger faded to just a dull sting, Emma wanted hear her voice and touch the curve of her waist and endlessly kiss her. All of this drove her forward to see Regina, the need pulsating at the surface. As she opened the door it whined softly, the light from the hall casting a beam of light into the room.

"Emma?" The frail voice of her roommate, groggy with slumber, froze her movements. She looked back over her shoulder to see Mary Margret squinting into the light, and then she pleaded, "Emma, don't go."

The blonde didn't answer. She turned away from her mother, her shadow eclipsing her as she stepped out of the home and continued her trek into the night.