When Emma regained consciousness…but before she opened her eyes, she did not know why she was laying on some sort of thin mattress as opposed to being in her bed in the home she shared with Mary Margaret…Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe she was back in the jail cell next to Mary Margaret's, sleeping on that uncomfortable bed because Mary Margaret was terrified that first night and Emma had spent the night.

But her aching body said differently. It wasn't the soreness that one had from sleeping on a jail cell bed to comfort your friend. It was all real; the curse, Henry dying, the wraith, the hat…

At the remembrance of falling through the hat, Emma's eyes opened and she looked around in confusion. She had thought that Regina said there was nothing to go back to and anyone who fell in would be killed since there was nothing but oblivion thanks to Regina's ridiculous casting of the curse that got her ripped from her family.

Emma shoved that to the back of her mind. She didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to think about how her parents had never really abandoned her on the side of the road…they just sort of shoved her in a wardrobe and hoped for the best in a completely different world that they probably didn't understand. Somehow that made it better AND worse.

If she was dead, did that mean she was in hell? Because she hoped this wasn't heaven. She was lying on a bed with a barely recognizable mattress…in a small dank cell with absolutely nothing else in it.

Emma forced her stiff body off the mattress and winced when muscles that she wasn't even aware of that existed began screaming at her.

She made it halfway across the room (i.e. two steps from the bed) when the door opened. Emma froze when she saw that no one was holding the handle.

At least at first.

He trailed behind the opening door a millisecond later. Emma's eyes widened in terror when she saw his….it's face. She backed up against the wall and felt the air leave her lungs. She knew it! She was in Hell! She was dead and she wasn't coming back and Henry was going to be without her…she had broken the curse and even though they couldn't go back, her use was done and she was dead.

The only thing that kept her from panicking was…this face that was staring back at her. It had human qualities but it just WASN'T human. The large snake pupils that were studying her…a little longer than she thought was really necessary…the golden grey skin…his hair looked like a mop and when he showed a hint of a smile…well she'd seen meth heads with less rotted teeth.

"Rise and shine dearie," it squealed with delight, sending shudders through her, "I didn't think you'd ever wake."

"What are you?"

He sighed, "What a rude question…I am not a 'what'"

"Could have fooled me," she went for her gun and realized that it wasn't there. None of her belongs were.

"Searching for your personals!?" he mocked, "Sorry dearie, I took them in an attempt to find out who you were and were you came from."

"If I'm dead, shouldn't you already know?" Emma had always imagined a demon would look sort of like this. She wasn't sure about the voice though…

He sighed, "Oh dearie, trust me, you're certainly not dead. Although I imagine most that knew you would probably classify you as such the minute I got my hands on you. Don't worry though…there's no need to be frightened, I won't hurt you."

She didn't like the unsaid words in his eyes as he looked her over.

"Where am I?" she demanded.

"In my castle of course," he stepped closer.

"What world?" Emma had to clarify. That just felt so weird to say.

"Oh well perhaps you need to learn to be more specific dearie, this…," he made a large sweeping gesture, "Is the Enchanted Forest."

"That's impossible."

"Well obviously not."

"How did it survive?"

That got his attention, he tilted his head…eagerly at attention now, "We haven't been destroyed yet, dearie."

Yet.

His voice softened and he reached out to touch her face, "What's your name?"

Oh she thanked everything holy that she left her ID at home when all this was happening. Henry taking the turnover, fighting the dragon, meeting her parents, trying to save Regina….she was glad that she never went home to get it.

She shoved his hands away from her face right before they touched her, she did not want this…whatever it was…with his freaky perv eyes and snake voice...putting its hands on her.

He gave a small sad sigh that she imagined was meant to make her feel bad and humanize him but didn't work.

"My name is Alice," she lied. She didn't really know why. The less she told this creature, the better. But he looked so familiar…the small gestures…the nasally voice…it was far more subdued at home. Her eyes grew, "You're Rumpelstiltskin."

He made a grand sweeping bow and she tried to figure out what was happening. How could he be Rumpelstiltskin here if he as Rumpelstiltskin in Storybrooke who actually did recognize her?

Magic here is unpredictable, Regina had said.

"We haven't been destroyed yet, dearie." Rumpelstiltskin had just said.

Could it be possible that she was back in time? And just how far back in time was she?

"I have to get home," she whispered to no one in particular.

She brushed past him and he made no move to stop her. She tried NOT to think about the fact that he was wearing a golden silk shirt, a red vest and rather tight leather pants that looked like they'd been painted on practically. She never planned to imagine Mr. Gold wearing something so…rock star and the idea of him doing so just sent her into fits of wanting to beg for mind bleach.

And mental laughter if she wasn't so confused about what was going on.

She passed an open door and something caught her eye.

No. No.

She turned and saw her Mary Margaret…no…Snow White her mother was laying on an examination table, unconscious to the world with no sign of visible wounds.

What was she doing here? Did she…oh God, she didn't jump into the hat with Emma, did she?

Emma crept forward and rested her hand on her…Mary Margaret's shoulder and shook her. She didn't wake up.

Emma gave Rumpelstiltskin a seething look, "What did you do?"

"I'm keeping her from waking up with a headache," Rumpelstiltskin said with a shrug, "She'll be fine."

"Wake her up," Emma demanded, "If you put a sleeping curse on her, I swear, I'll make you regret it."

He scoffed and laughed, "Really dearie? What are you going to do? Scowl me to death? It's not a sleeping curse; I'm just letting her sleep."

Emma glared at him which seemed to amuse him more, "What do you want?"

His entire demeanor changed. He was no longer the creepy little…whatever he was, he straightened up and in his hand was Emma's phone. He must've used magic. Her phone wasn't in his hand a second ago and that outfit certainly didn't have any room for pockets.

"Interesting advancements your world has," he complimented and looked at the device with both amusement and awe, "Took me two hours to figure out how to work it and it still has things on here that you'll eventually have to explain to me."

Little chance of that happening.

"But then I found this thing called gallery, and since I recognized what a gallery is…I went in there and I found something extremely fascinating."

He showed her the phone. Emma immediately tensed when she saw that it was a picture with both Henry and herself posing together. She gave him a seething look that promised all sorts of things if he touched her boy.

But he hardly seemed interested in that. He gestured to a corner of the screen. Regina sat at the back of the diner. She remembered that day. Regina had scowled and tried to ignore them and Emma had taken a picture of herself and Henry as both a means to make her son happy and piss Regina off.

"What's she doing there?" Rumpelstiltskin asked and Emma realized that his entire attention was devoted to the evil queen.

Emma shrugged, "Who?"

He didn't buy it, "Let's make a deal; dearie. You tell me what I want to know and I'll wake your mother up."