II
Interlude: Jefferson
II
They're all affected by the curse, Jefferson realizes and yet he feels more cursed than any of them. He remembers. He knows who he is. He knows who Grace is. He knows.
He remembers.
And when the world ends, he knows there are others. Worlds with hope. Worlds with happy endings. Worlds without this. If they could only get, if he could only take Grace there...
Hope might be the worst curse of all, Jefferson decides and yet clings to it.
II
Chapter nine: Take what's dead / and breathe life in
Regina
II
"You're going to live, Mayor Mills," Frankenstein – Dr. Whale – tells Regina, managing a ghost of a smile before he walks out. That's what she feels like: a ghost. She's haunting rather than living, and no one is truly looking at her and seeing her.
Those who look at her, look at her with sympathy if anything at all. She catches the odd glimpse at her as she rests, feeling stuck in a haze of vague pain and painful memories.
This isn't what she wanted.
She just wanted to win. That's what she keeps thinking as Owen sleeps curled up next to her. (He fell asleep crying about his dad.) She just wanted to win. She wanted Snow to suffer, and revel in it forever (even if she was getting bored with it after a day), and most of all she wanted to win.
She's never won. And now, now she's lost again. Only this time, everyone seems to be losing right along with her. No one is winning.
This is a world without happy endings. This is a world that just ended, and they're forced to life in the after.
She has started to piece the situation together from the snippets she's picked up and what she can see with her own eyes. After the catastrophic events, a small community of survivors seems to have formed around the sheriff and the amnesiac prince, and then Snow joined up. They were based at the town hall until recently, when Albert Spencer attacked. The sheriff was killed (she feels a faint pang at that, but of what she isn't sure) and the town hall set on fire.
And now they are here, apparently becoming farmers. A small community of cursed survivors determined to live even after everything.
The will to live. Even now, it stirs in here too, despite everything. She can feel it, the desire to live another day.
It is another day. It will be morning soon, the faint light streaming in through the windows tells her. She and Owen have been given their own room, with Belle in the one next to hers. It's the sort of faint irony Regina doesn't appreciate.
At least it isn't Snow and Charming in the next room. She only caught brief glimpses of them yesterday with everything going on, but that was enough to know it would be a very bad idea to be anywhere near their bedroom.
Yet she can't quite muster the energy to rage about it. Her body hurts, but her mind and heart seem to as well. She hurts. She's dealt with death and brought it upon others, but this... This is on a scale even she can't imagine. She can't even wish it on Snow. She can't...
Owen whimpers in his sleep and she instinctively hugs him closer. His father is dead, she's managed to piece that together. He must have been the man to walk into the camp of Albert Spencer – King George – and inadvertently set in motion the events of yesterday.
Maybe it would have happened sooner or later anyway. George was always a fool, and one with the tact of a bull in a stampede. And now the bull has left a boy fatherless.
That she feels angry about, or will once she has the energy to. Owen has looked after her for weeks, and he's become...
She doesn't allow herself to finish the thought, instead careful extracting herself from him and tucking him in better. Her throat feels scratchy and she longs for water. Slowly, she makes her way outside to the water tanks.
A few others seem to be early risers. Dr. Whale – Frankenstein, really, but apparently he is more comfortable being a giant maritime mammal here - and Ruby – Red by any other gem name – are standing quietly together, their hands lingering inches away from each other as they seem to pretend neither of them have finished their drink of water ages ago.
They both nod at her, no greater recognition in their faces. As she gets her drink of water, the two of them give each other a lingering look and then walk off in different directions. She finds herself wondering if the end of the world is also the end of all dating standards. Frankenstein and the wolf?
In the distance, Storybrooke is burning still. She can see the smoke and every now and then a flash of fire. Albert Spencer's attack seems to have backfired rather spectacularly, and she wonders if that is more than a coincidence.
"Good morning, dearie," Rumplestiltskin says behind her, and she very deliberately takes another drink of water before turning around to meet his gaze. "What a disappointment to see you up and about rather than crying into your pillow."
"Always a pleasure to be a disappointment to you, Rumpel," she says as acidly as she can manage. "What do you want?"
"To know what you want," he counters smoothly. So, he still has some plan he's working on, she guesses. He wouldn't care otherwise.
What does she want? She knows what she wanted once, but that feels like a lifetime ago. Like a world ago. She thinks of Daniel, and of Snow, but they feel distant. She thinks of the end of the world and of Owen, and those feel very, very near.
"I don't know," she says, and he looks at her for a long, long moment.
"Let me know when you figure it out, dearie, so I'll know whether to kill you or to use you."
She raises an eyebrow at his outright hostility.
"You did imprison Belle back in our land," he says, a dark glint in his eyes.
"I was as surprised as you..."
"Don't lie to me," he says, and for a moment he's all Dark One again even without the scaly skin and the costume. She holds her head up, but only barely. "You're a terrible liar, Regina."
"I could have killed her, but I didn't," she says, but he doesn't look particularly impressed by that at all. "What does it matter now? This world ended. We're all dead."
He simply smiles and she knows he very definitely has a plan. Of course.
He's smiling at something else too, she realizes, and lifts her gaze to see Snow and Charming talking to Red, Snow carrying the baby they've apparently adopted. They're gesturing, clearly giving instructions or something similar. Red nods at them, and the scene could be right out of their land and still fit.
Especially after Red walks away, and Charming turns to Snow in the pale morning light and kisses his wife that he supposedly doesn't remember as if he has every right to it.
"Watching anything interesting, dearie?" Rumpel asks merrily.
"They seem so... " she says, finally tearing her gaze away as Snow smiles against Charming's lips.
"Like their true selves?" Rumpel suggests. "In your certainty he would never wake, you left David Nolan without any false memories at all. And so, his charming self has nothing to hold it back. Mary Margaret was only what you cursed her to be for a day before the world ended. Not much time to settle into her misery before she found her prince charming again."
Regina shakes her head. "It's more than that, Rumpel. Stop circling the point like a serpent and get to it."
He smiles unpleasantly. "Oh, but that is half the point, dearie. The other is their charming little baby."
She blinks, then realization settles in. "It's theirs, isn't it? They adopted their own baby and don't even know it?"
"Fate, it seems, has a sense of humor that far outshines mine," he says merrily.
She laughs bitterly, then gleefully as a thought occurs to her. "It does, doesn't it? Because the curse isn't broken, is it? You're stuck here, with all your knowledge and none of your power."
She can see on his face that she is right, and she laughs again. Yes. Fate certainly has a sense of humor and it seems to be even darker than the Dark One's.
"The curse will break," he says, a command and a threat both. "It's already weakening. You're feeling it too, aren't you? Your grudge against the fair Miss Blanchard and the charming Mr. Nolan was useful to me at one time. Now I would consider it a nuisance, and you know what I do with nuisances."
"Still trying to play the spider in the web even when you're all out of spider web, Rumpel?" she taunts, mostly just out of habit and a little for the fun of it.
"Still trying to play the Evil Queen when you're all out of kingdoms to terrorize?"
They stare at each other for a while longer, neither looking away and neither giving an inch.
"Regina?" Owen says, and she turns around abruptly to see him just a few feet away, shivering. "I thought you had left. Like dad did."
"No!" she says hurriedly, walking over and dropping down on her knees to pull him into a hug. "I just went to get a drink. I'm sorry I scared you."
"You're not leaving me?" he asks, shivering slightly and she rubs his arms in response.
"Never," she promises. She means it too, she realizes. Owen needs her. He has no one else. Rather like her, really.
"Never," he agrees, and clings to her. Behind her, she can hear Rumpel whistle softly.
"Queen, mother... Mother, queen... Make your mind up what you want in this world, Regina. Then we can make a deal."
He walks off with his cane, still whistling a tune she recognizes as a nursery rhyme. That twisted imp, that snake, that...
She bites back her anger, focusing instead on Owen. He still looks scared and teary as she pulls back to look at him, and she wishes she could take away all his hurt.
"It's going to be all right," she promises. It will be. She'll make it all right. He's going to have a happy ending.
"Good morning," a familiar voice says, and she has to bite back another surge of anger as she immediately recognizes it.
"Good morning," she manages to say, turning around to face Snow White and Prince Charming and their baby.
They look like such a perfect little family even without knowing that is exactly what they are. Baby Emma is resting in some sort of sling Snow is wearing, and Snow and Charming are holding hands.
"We didn't get a chance to get properly introduced," Charming says, all friendly. "I'm David. You already met Mary Margaret, and this is Emma, our... Our child."
He smiles as he says that, and Snow looks up at him and smiles too. It's all very them. In fact, it's so hard not to think of them as Snow and Charming, especially when they're acting like two idiots in love as only Snow and Charming can. They might be a little more shy about it, but no less obvious.
Owen looks at Snow and Charming and Emma curiously, but it's Regina's hand he takes and grasps.
"This is Owen," she says, unable to keep her voice neutral. Far too much affection and possessiveness in it, but that only makes the two idiots smile.
"Pleased to meet you, Owen," Snow says.
Owen nods seriously. "This is Regina."
Snow and Charming smile at that, before David holds out his hand. Owen shakes it and then Snow's, and Regina has to begrudgingly give them points for noticing Owen's desire to be treated seriously.
"We're having a funeral for Graham today," Charming says quietly after a moment. "You're welcome to come if you wish, but you don't have to."
Snow looks down at that, and Charming glances over at her as if he can sense her grief.
"I'll come," Regina says. She took his heart and he never truly loved her, yet she feels something at his death. It might even be regret. She never really wanted to see him dead. "He was in my service."
David smiles sadly. "He was a good sheriff and a good man."
"He was," Snow agrees, and both of them radiate so much grief it would have made the Evil Queen smile happily. It just makes Regina feel more tired. She can't even enjoy their grief.
"Owen and I are going to get something to eat," she says instead.
"Of course. It was nice to meet you, Owen. Mayor Mills," David says, and there is no hint of resentment in his voice at all. He carries himself like Charming, and his hand holding Snow's hand so assertively and yet gently is all Charming, but he clearly doesn't remember. If he did, he wouldn't be able to mask it. Not Charming, not the shepherd who is as straightforward as a sheep.
"Good to see you looking better," Snow – no, Mary Margaret. Regina has to train herself to think of Snow as Mary Margaret – says, smiling sympathetically, and Regina is torn between wanting to claw her face off and wanting to have more of Snow just like this.
This is what they had once. They had sympathy for each other, and maybe even something more. Before... Before everything changed.
And now it can change again.
But to what?
II
"You!" Jefferson says, practically a hiss. She turns around, grateful that Owen is eating breakfast and not listening.
"Jefferson," she says. She had almost forgotten him; rather ironic, since she chose him to remember. She's almost ready to simply dismiss him, but then she remembers his hat.
That may still be useful. Better not to burn all bridges.
"Grace doesn't even remember me," he says darkly, stepping up as if ready to strangle her.
"But she's alive," she counters, standing her ground. "Love her like a father and she will see you like one."
"Parenting advice from the Evil Queen?" he says angrily. "What do you know about it?"
She thinks of young Snow, so very young and looking up at her with admiration, and of Owen, so very young and beginning to look up at her too.
"I'm learning," she says, and walks away; Jefferson's gaze following her all the way until she takes Owen's hand.
II
Graham's funeral is quiet and as dignified as can be managed under the circumstances. Everyone is there, all looking grief-stricken.
He died heroically, David eulogizes. Regina can only agree. The huntsman always picked the worst time for heroics and sacrifices.
He had a good heart, Mary Margaret mentions between tears. Regina held it in her hands and knows that better than anyone. He wouldn't take Snow's heart, and so gave up his own.
He protected them, Sean says over and over. Like a wolf having found his pack, Regina thinks.
Graham's body is lowered into the ground, and Regina watches numbly and wonders what she's supposed to feel. It's easy to see what everyone else feels. Mary Margaret is crying while David holds her and looks on the verge of tears, Sean walks off while angrily kicking dirt and all the others seem to convey all the emotions between quiet grief and outright despair.
Slowly, one by one, people walk away until only Snow and Charming – no, David and Mary Margaret – are left by the grave, looking desolate.
Owen looks at her, eyes older and wiser and sadder than any child's should be.
"Are you sad too?" he asks quietly.
She thinks about Graham, about death and about the world she is now in. "Yes."
He takes her hand gently. "I'm sad about dad."
"It's okay to be sad," she assures him, leading him away. She throws one last glance back at David and Mary Margaret, wrapped in each other and wrapped in grief, and again feels nothing.
Perhaps it's because it's not she who has inflicted this grief on them, or perhaps she's lost the taste for it.
"Everyone is sad," Owen observes in a thick voice.
"It's a sad world," she agrees, then glances down at him as an idea forms. Jefferson and his hat. The savior and the curse breaking. "There are other worlds, Owen. Better worlds."
"There are?" he asks seriously.
"Yes," she replies just as seriously. "There is one world called the Enchanted Forest. It's a world of happy endings."
"That sounds like a fairytale," he says, kicking some dirt and trying to sound much too old for fairytales.
"Owen," she says firmly, stopping and bending down to look right at him. "It's real."
He searches her face, clearly looking for any sign that she is lying. Slowly, very slowly his face changes from dubious to hopeful.
"Is it really?" he breathes.
"Yes," she says firmly. Whatever state their land is in, it has to be better than this. It's a land where she'll have magic. It's a land with happy endings, at least for those who are good - and Owen is.
It's a land Owen deserves. This ruined world can't offer him much, but she can.
"Can we go there?" he asks hopefully.
"Yes," she says, and his eyes light up. "But it may take some time to get us there, Owen. We have to keep it a secret between us until then."
"I swear," he says solemnly. "But can you tell me bedtime stories about it?"
"Every night," she promises and he hugs her, resting his head against her shoulder. She hesitates, holding very still for a moment. Then gently, tenderly, she puts her arms around him too.
The will to live, she thinks again. How strangely tied it is to the will to love.
II
It is almost dark when Regina makes the first of two visits, knocking on the door to the smallest farmhouse and waiting until she hears footsteps and then the door opening.
"Mayor Mills," David says. He looks tired, but still manages a faint smile. Behind him, she can see Mary Margaret rocking Emma in her arms.
"Owen and I would like to stay here," she tells him, and she can see Mary Margaret look up and smile briefly at that.
"You're very welcome to," he says sincerely, and she wonders if there is a part of Charming's memories trapped somewhere in there, currently howling. "You're welcome to stay with us as long as you like. You and Owen."
There is certainly a part of her that is the Evil Queen that is screaming, but she shoves it hard to the back of her mind.
Owen, she remembers and clings to that thought. Owen.
"I plan to look after Owen," she goes on and David nods, as if he gets it. Maybe he does. Emma is his daughter by birth and he doesn't even know it, yet clearly loves her just as much.
"I'm sorry about his father," David says.
Charming doesn't remember. Snow doesn't remember. They think she's just another Storybrooke citizen, just another survivor. They don't see her as the Evil Queen.
They don't see her as anything yet. It's a blank canvas, a new start, a new world.
She can choose how they see her from now on.
"It will be good to have you here, Mayor Mills," Mary Margaret says softly, stepping closer and Regina can see the baby has fallen asleep in her arms.
"Regina," Regina replies after a moment, making the first of many choices she know is to come. "Please call me Regina. Titles can be so very confining, don't you think?"
II
The second visit she doesn't bother knocking, just opens the door softly and walks into Gold's small cottage.
He isn't alone there, though. Belle is reading, and he is listening to her with an expression so soft it almost throws her off her game.
Not quite, but almost.
"You have your own private librarian, how sweet," she says and Belle freezes, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Rumpel lifts his hand from Belle's and gives Regina an icy look.
"No knocking? All Miss Manners today, Miss Mills," he observes.
"Am I interrupting?" she asks with a silken voice.
"Yes," Rumpel says shortly.
"Good," she comments and glides into the room. "Your book club can wait. We need to talk."
Rumpel sighs, then turns to Belle. "My apologies for the rudeness. I will see you tomorrow, Belle."
"See you tomorrow, Gold," Belle answers breathlessly and Regina rolls her eyes. So not only will she have to endure Snow and Charming being all lovey dovey in the Snow and Charming way, she'll also get a front seat to the Dark One in Love: A Comedy of Dating Errors.
Rumpel folds his hands as Belle exits, looking at Regina with a fairly composed expression, with just the tiniest hint of annoyance creeping in.
"What do you want, Regina?"
"I want to find Kurt's body," she says. "For Owen. To have something to bury."
"That may prove difficult," Rumpel says, and when she gives him an irritated glance, he just smiles. "However, should the opportunity arise, I will see what can be done. What else, dearie?"
"Let's make a deal," she says and he looks at her. "You want the curse to break. How long will that take?"
"28 years," he says. "Don't worry. We won't age until it does. Emma will and your boy Owen will, but we will not."
"28 years," she says quietly, her mind racing. Owen will age but she won't. "All right, Rumpel. You have your 28 years but no more."
"You want me to promise you to stop protecting them after the curse has broken so you can finally have your revenge?" he says, and he actually looks unhappy about that. Could he actually care about them, even a little?
"I didn't say that," she says, smiling the blandest smile she can manage. "I just said that 28 years is what you get. Afterward…"
With that, she walks off. It's not just leaving Rumpel uncertain (as amusing as that is) that makes her leave it at that. She just isn't sure herself.
28 years. That's what she'll have to decide who she wants to be.