DISCLAIMER:: do not own ouat or its characters. just borrowing for the purpose of creative expression. no profit obtained.

A/N:: sorry this took so long. 60 hour weeks are kicking my ass. just a quick note about the previous chapter to clear one quick thing up... some readers mistakenly thought that the more potion someone drinks, the younger they get. this is not the case. the potion merely cuts age in half, no matter how much one drinks. the amount consumed only determines how long their age will be cut in half, the duration of the spell. those who drink more, presumably, will be younger longer. just needed to clear that up. on with the story. enjoy and review.

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Chapter 4

"Grandpa."

James shifted in his sleep, coming up to the edge of consciousness before slipping immediately back into unconsciousness.

"Grandpa!"

The urgent whisper came again and this time James couldn't ignore it. He slowly cracked one eye open and regarded the young face barely an inch from his. Henry's hair was mussed from sleep, sticking up in all directions. He was still in his Iron Man pajamas that James had wrestled him into last night before he'd tucked him in.

When he saw the panic on Henry's face, he shot up, fully alert. "What is it? What's wrong?" His hand instinctively went to his hip for the sidearm that he wore every day as deputy, forgetting for a moment that he was still in bed.

"It's Grandma!" Henry glanced towards the door.

"Snow?" James glanced to the empty spot beside him. He leapt off the mattress, causing Henry to stumble back to avoid a collision. "Henry, what happened to Snow?" He looked down at his grandson.

Henry pointed towards the door. "She's out there. I think you should see for yourself." He started for the door. "But you, uh, may want to put on a shirt first." He disappeared through the door before James could ask him to explain.

James looked down from his bare chest to his pajama pants. Why did he have to put on a shirt? It's not like Snow hadn't seen him shirtless and often. He grabbed one of his grey Hanes tees from where it rested on top of the dresser and tossed it on before making his way to the door.

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Sunlight came down through the break in the trees, shining straight down onto the young girl's eyelids. She squinted against the rays as she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly to clear them of sleep. The leaves above her head glittered brightly through the filtered sunlight, bright green sparkles against the blue backdrop of the sky.

Red blinked as she lifted her head to glance around. She had often fallen asleep in the woods; she was not surprised to be outdoors. But she didn't know this place. She'd grown up in the woods around her village, spent hours learning every tree, every square of land for leagues around. But she was sure she'd never been here before. She did not know this place.

She sat up, fallen leaves falling back to the forest floor from the tangle of her brown hair. She sniffed the air. She could smell the fresh scent of pine and, farther off, the breeze coming in off some great body of water.

She got up, lowering her hands to her skirts to brush them off, only to find that she wasn't wearing any. She was wearing trousers, made from a weird material she'd never felt before. They were bright red. The tunic she wore just dropped to below her chest, leaving her mid-drift bare. Had some animal attacked her in the middle of the night and clawed off half the garment?

She glanced around once more. Where was she? Where was Granny? How had she gotten here? The only thing she could think to do was to follow the smells. Maybe she would be able to find some answers that way, towards the smell of people.

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Regina didn't recognise the feel of the bed underneath her. Had she fallen asleep in the library once more? She couldn't seem to remember. She blinked rapidly, opening her eyes. Her face was buried against golden hair. One of her handmaidens had golden hair. But what would she be doing in her bed?

She sat up abruptly only to find herself falling backward through the air. Her arms flailed but found no purchase. She fell a few feet and slammed into the hardness of the floor.

"Keep it down, will ya?" The figure with the blonde hair pulled on the blanket, bringing it fully back over her body, not even bothering to turn over to see what had made the loud thump.

"I beg your pardon." How dare this woman speak to her in such a way? She was a lady!

The blonde twisted her head to glance over her shoulder at the brunette on the floor beside the couch, in a dress that appeared to be too loose on her and also of an older style, like it should be worn by a thirtysomething lawyer rather than a girl who couldn't be more than eighteen. "You heard me; I'm tryin' to sleep here." She turned her head back around, effectively ending the line of conversation.

Regina glared at the back of the girl's head. She was quite positive she'd never seen this girl about the estate before; she had no idea who she was. So why was it that the girl, who appeared to be even younger than her own seventeen years, could infuriate her so? She pushed herself up so that she was towering over the sleeping figure on the couch. "I demand that you tell me who you are this instant!"

Emma rolled her eyes, though she was certain the other girl couldn't see the gesture. She just sighed dramatically and ignored her, pretending instead to go back to sleep. Obviously this girl was new to the group home, some prissy privileged girl who'd probably lived a cushy life with her move star parents (if her looks were anything to go by, she was one of the Jolie-Pitt kids) and had only been placed here after the world found out they were crack heads.

"Answer me!" Regina stomped her bare foot against the hardwood. Bare feet? Hardwood? She looked down for the first time, took in her outfit and her surroundings. These were not her clothes, nor any of Mother's either. She'd never seen such odd craftsmanship. And the dress was so short. And this certainly wasn't her parent's estate. What magic was this? Where was she? She felt the sting behind her eyes and knew she was going to cry, as she often did when she became overwhelmed. Mother always cautioned her to be stronger, to conceal her emotions better, but she found that to be one of the more difficult tasks assigned to her.

She glanced down at the other girl, shifting her weight anxiously from foot to foot. This other girl did not appear alarmed at all. Was this her house? Had she brought her here? Even if she hadn't, she would certainly know how she'd gotten here. She had to, right? "Who are you?"

Emma sighed and finally sat up, rubbing at her eyes. She just wasn't going to shake this chick. Finally she looked tiredly up at the other girl. "Name's Emma." She held out her hand.

Regina stared at the offered hand, unsure what the other girl expected her to do with it.

Emma sighed again and dropped her hand. So this girl didn't even think her worthy of a handshake? Great. Why did they always room her with the bad apples? And then she noticed where she was. She scooted quickly and pressed back against the back of the couch, her knees up against her chest and stared at the other girl with wide eyes. "Listen, I don't know why you brought me here, but if you're looking for money, you're barking up the wrong tree. I don't got none and the state sure as hell ain't gonna pay no ransom for a street kid like me. In fact, they'd probably pay you to keep me."

"Me?" Regina pointed to herself with a quizzical expression, the tears ceasing in lieu of her confusion. "Bring you here? I don't believe I know where here is. Surely, this is your manor?"

Emma shook her head. "Noooo. They don't let people like me near anything this fancy." She raised an eyebrow at the polished girl standing in front of her. "You mean, you don't know how you got here either?"

The brunette shook her head. "The last thing I remember was heading to the stables to have the new stableboy saddle up my mare for a ride."

Emma regarded the girl before her. Well one of them obviously came from money. But what was this? Some kind of freaky kidnapping?

"Emma..." Regina tried the name out, realising she liked the way it rolled off her tongue. "I'm frightened." She couldn't quite understand the urge, but she felt that close to this girl was the safest place she could be right now.

Emma didn't know what made her do it. She had no reason to trust this girl and she hated rich girls, but something about the fragile look in the girl's innocent brown eyes told her that she hadn't seen much of the harshness of life. She had been sheltered, privileged, and she'd never survive a day on her own in the real world. She felt it deep in the pit of her stomach, the need to protect her. She pushed up off the couch and stood beside the girl. They were of a height and she was able to look straight into her eyes. "What's your name?"

"Regina."

Emma tried her best at a reassuring smile. "Well just stick with me Regina. I'll get us out of here." She glanced around at the grand living room. "Wherever here is."

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James wasn't quite sure what he was looking at. The person standing next to his grandson looked like his wife. She had Snow's eyes, Snow's mouth, Snow's round face. But she had also grown over a foot of hair overnight, luxurious black curls that existed only in his memories of an old world and a life together as King and Queen. Her features were smoother, child-like. She was shorter. She looked more like she could be his daughter than his wife. Well considering his daughter was older than him, thanks to the curse, that statement actually didn't really ring true either.

"Snow?"

The young girl looked up from where she sat on the couch, her eyes growing wide at the sight of him even as her cheeks began to redden. "I see you found your tunic, good sir."

Tunic? Since when did anything Hanes made constitute a tunic? "Um, yea." He ran a hand over his hair. "Um, Snow... how old are you?"

"I've seen fourteen winters."

"Fourteen?!"

Snow nodded, beaming, as if she were truly proud of her age. "Yes. Father says I am of an age to be courted." Realisation dawned on her face and she quickly downcast her eyes, the redness of her cheeks only deepening. "Is that why I am here? Are you a Prince?"

James was still trying to process that somehow, overnight, his wife's age had been cut in half. "No. I mean, yes, I was. I'm a King now."

"A King?" Snow's eyes grew wide in wonder. Surely her father wanted her to marry this man. A King. The marriage would unite their kingdoms and there would be peace throughout their lands. Clearly he was her perfect match, the Prince she'd always wished for.

"Grandpa?"

James glanced down to see Henry standing beside him, looking questioningly between him and the younger Snow.

"Is this your son? Am I to be his mother?"

Henry's face scrunched. "I already got a mom. Actually, I have two moms."

Snow's face fell a little, and she looked at Henry with genuine sympathy. "Oh, did your first mother die? My mother died as well. My father remarried though. She's lovely. Her name's..."

"Regina." Henry cut her off. "I know; she's my mom."

Snow's face scrunched in confusion. "But how can that be? Are you my brother? I am confused."

"Aren't we all?" James stared at his younger wife. Wait... Regina! Regina had magic; she'd know what was going on. "Tell you what. I'm just going to go call... I mean send word to Regina and we'll get this all figured out okay?" He smiled at her.

Snow gave him a dreamy smile. "My hero."

He paled. "Uh-huh. Well, Prince Henry here is going to keep you company while I go... send word." He pushed Henry into the living room and bolted off to the kitchen to call the mayoral mansion. Something was seriously wrong with Snow and he needed Emma and Regina's help to figure out what.

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Regina crouched behind Emma as they tiptoed down the hall. The younger girl was armed with a poker she'd stole from in front of the fireplace, holding it in front of her quite like Regina had seen knights hold their swords when they were getting ready to spar. She clung to the material at the back of the girl's dress. Her clothes were also loose on her, just as Regina's own were, but she seemed to be used to it, saying she'd lived her entire life in ill-fitting hand-me-downs.

They'd checked the kitchen, a bathroom and were just now moving through the dining room. They had a clear shot to the front door but Emma couldn't help feeling like to go for it was just what whoever had brought them here wanted. It was all just too easy and Emma had seen enough of life to know it was never that easy. Something suspicious was going on here.

The phone rang through the silence, startling both girls and causing the blonde to fling her arm out, the force of the reflex gesture slamming the poker straight into a vase on the table behind them, shattering it thoroughly.

She tensed, waiting to hear angry shouts or footsteps. But none came. The house remained silent except for the ringing of the phone. Finally, the call dropped and they were in the stillness.

"What was that?"

Before Emma could answer, the phone rang again. Maybe they were trapped here as she thought and this was their kidnapper calling to say he wanted to play a game like 'get out of the house alive' or something. She tiptoed over to where the phone rested on a foyer table and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Emma? Oh, thank god!" A man's voice, filled with relief came through the phone.

How did he know her name? "Who is this?"

There was a long pause. When the voice came back, it sounded uncertain. "This is James. Um, your father."

Emma pulled the receiver away from her ear to stare at it in disgust for a moment before putting it back to her ear. "Listen psycho, I don't know who you are or what twisted shit you're trying to pull here but this is not funny. I'm going to call the cops." She failed to mention that she'd already tried that when she'd first noticed the phone, but it had yielded no results. Wherever they were, 911 didn't work here.

"Emma you are the cops."

Emma rolled her eyes. Great, not only was this guy a psychopath, he was also a crazy psychopath. Oh yea, this was Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Rich People Edition. "Okay, yea, crazy dude, whatever you say. I'm hanging up now."

"Wait Emma, don't!"

She paused.

"Is Regina there with you?"

She glanced over her shoulder to the brunette, huddled frightened in the doorway that connected the dining room to the foyer. "Yes."

"I need to talk to her. It's about Snow."

"Listen, I don't really think she wants to talk to you about the weather."

"The weather? What? No... Snow, Emma..." Then he trailed off for a long second. "Um, Emma, how old are you?"

Crazy psychopath pedophile kidnaps her and doesn't even bother to check the age of the merchandise before buying? "Fifteen." She heard a string of muffled curse words before the voice returned.

"How old is Regina?"

She glanced back at the girl. "I don't know, like eighteen maybe." Why was she even answering this dude? Maybe because he held all the cards. She wasn't really sure. Her gut just told her to answer honestly.

"Okay Emma, listen to me very carefully. Don't leave the house. Henry, Snow and I are coming to get you and Regina. We're going to figure out what's going on, I promise. We'll be there in fifteen minutes. Don't move."

The line went dead before she could respond. She tossed the receiver back into its cradle before turning to the brunette still huddled in the doorway. "Do you trust me?"

Regina hesitated only a second before nodding.

"Good. Because we have exactly fifteen minutes to get the fuck outta Dodge."