Summary: It is a year after Pan's curse and oddly no one can remember anything that happened. Snow is pregnant. Charming is acting weird. Hook's gone. And Regina's, well, confused. Because not only has The Savior returned with all of her memories, but she's also returned with a magical three month old that looks like someone Regina once knew. Yet, nothing is ever quite what it seems. |AU|
Warnings: AU Season 3.
Pairings: Regina/Emma. Snow/Charming.
Author's Note: The response for this story has been overwhelming and I thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart, it really means so much to me. Especially considering I'm fairly new to this fandom. I love that everyone is falling in love with Reagan. Sadly, she's not really in this chapter but from here on out, that little tyke is going to be taking over. Just out of curiosity, has anyone figured out the significance of her name? And no, it has nothing to do with the president. Points to whoever can figure it out. Anyway, on with the show, I suppose. We get to see how Regina's holding up since Emma and Henry have left! Please, please, please leave your thoughts, feelings and opinions after reading this chapter. Because it both influences me to write this and it also could very much influence the way that this story turns out!
Two: New York Serenade
It has been a year; at least, that is the amount of time that has passed, Snow estimates. After all, when she last stepped foot in this small town, the leaves were turning the most beautiful shade of orange; now, however, they are preparing themselves for a dance of falling once more. She thinks it has been a year because things that had been breaking news is this realm are no longer mentioned, however, more developing stories of war and other outrageous crimes of true evil of mankind are being spoke of. It has been a year- at least, she thinks, because, well, she honestly cannot remember any of it.
The last thing that she recalls is watching her daughter and her grandson drive away from her in that hideous yellow bug of hers. She makes a mental note to remind Charming to help her pick out a more appropriate car- after all, that is what fathers are supposed to do, right? But more importantly, she revisits that last scene. The scene of her daughter's blonde hair walking away from her, driving into the sunset for a happily ever after all of her own with her son by her side. She had just found her- only to have her taken away from her again by a stupid curse.
And honestly, Snow is not sure which time hurt the most- the time she lost her helpless newborn with no hopes of ever seeing her again. Or now, when she watched her newly acquired daughter, full of so much sass and strength, drive away from her to never return and never remember a single thing about her. Both times she has left without a choice, but it never made the ache in her heart where she had once grew any easier.
Sighing as she stares at the townline, Snow places her hand on her now protruding baby bump. She gets a second chance to start anew with this one; she only wishes she knew how this one came to be. While she knows the generic biological principle of how it happened, the past year of her life has been wiped from her memory. There is not even a reassurance that the baby is Charmings- she is sure that it is, but there is a chance that it might not be. Hell if Snow remembers.
Biting her bottom lip as the tears burn within her eyes, the short woman turns on her heels, watching with her peripheral vision as the town line gets further and further away. Somewhere, on the other side of that line, is her daughter; her beautiful baby girl who had been meant to save them all from evil, not just Regina. Sighing reluctantly, Snow opens the door to Granny's, finding a sea of familiar faces waiting for her inside. Rumple, Belle, Robin, Little Red, Granny, Charming and… she knows that perfect mess of dark hair anywhere. Swallowing her pride, Snow sends a smile in the direction of Charming who barely even notices her, before she approaches her stepmother.
"Care for some company?" Snow asks softly but Regina's eyes do not look up from the spot on the wall in which she had been staring. Her eyes are glossy, almost like death, and Snow recalls the last time that she saw her stepmother like this. It had been with Daniel's death; because when her father passed, she had not been nearly this upset. Her thumb traces the rim of the coffee mug that sits in front of her and Snow can smell the cinnamon that has been added to it.
Regina hates cinnamon.
But Emma doesn't and this is exactly how Emma takes her cocoa. Smiling at the realization, Snow's fingers gently trace shapes into her very round baby bump as she waits for Regin's cold eyes to meet hers, but they never do.
"I do not rule this kingdom. Therefore, I suppose you can sit anywhere that you wish. You get to do that with this whole concept of freedom, you know? Just because I am the Queen in the Enchanted Forest does not mean you have to ask permission every time that you need something, Mrs. Charming." Regina thickens the sarcasm of her last name; yet, not once, does the raven haired woman blink.
Freak of nature, Snow thinks, or maybe, just maybe, she thinks that if she blinks it is all going to be taken away from her again. Yeah, maybe it is that one." The princess bemuses to herself, tucking in her shirt as she carefully and very eloquently takes the seat across from the Evil Queen.
There is nothing Evil about her now, however.
And hell, from the way that she looks, there is nothing alive about her either.
"You don't remember either, do you?" Snow asks so blatantly that Regina cannot help but snort, glaring at the young woman sitting before her. There is so much of Emma written within Snow's face; they have the same jaw structure, the same shaped eyes, and while Regina may never admit it, they most definitely have the most perfectly shaped lips. Sometimes it is strange for her, to sit alongside the woman that completely destroyed her life; sit beside of the woman that made her life so miserable in the first place. But she knew that she had to, not just for Emma, but for Henry.
"I have no idea what you are talking about. Pregnancy brain has you delusional, don't you think?" Regina chuckles, pursing her lips against the coffee mug before her. Slowly, she allows the hot liquid to scald down her throat but honestly, Regina is so numb from everything else that she could not feel the pain that should be radiating through her. Snow lets out a frustrating sigh, glancing around Granny's at the familiar faces of her friends before they land on her husband. There is something different about Charming now, as he leans against the counter, something that she could not quite pinpoint.
"The last thing I remember is watching Emma drive away in her car. I can't remember anything else. I can't remember the year of our lives in the Enchanted Forest. I can't remember returning to our castle or…..or...this!" Snow gestures to her baby bump, "next thing I am aware of, we are back in Storybrooke and for a moment, I think...maybe, just maybe, time has stood still, you know? Emma leaving stopped the clock again. But it didn't. None of us can remember anything, Regina, and the last time this happened, you had all of your memories. So, I guess I am asking you, did you do this to us?"
"If I was going to do this, Snow, don't you think I would have brought my son back to me? Don't you think I would have brought Emma back to her family? I cast curses to hurt other people, not myself. I would not wipe an entire year of my memory away. I didn't do this. I am just as clueless as the rest of you." Regina huffs, taking another long drink of her cocoa. At the admission, Snow only nods her head, gently lacing her fingers around one another as she leans against the table. She takes a moment to study the face of the woman before her.
Oh, Regina, Snow sighs inwardly to herself. She would never admit it but there had always been a little piece of her in love with Regina; from the day that she first saved her life. That had been the reason that her father that married her, not because he loved her, but because Snow did. She would never tell the Mayor that she had been the first person to love her; just like she would never tell the Mayor how she still does love her. She brought her daughter back to her (albeit, being the one who took her in the first place) and she is the one who raised her grandson to live a great life. They had such a complex, complicated history, full of despair, anguish and the struggle for power but Snow would be damned if there was not a moment in which she did not love Regina through it. Whether the damaged dark haired beauty knew about it or not.
"I'm sorry. I just thought… I just…"
"You just thought what everyone else in this damn town thinks- that I'm still the Evil Queen and I get off at manipulating and ruining your lives! But I didn't do this! I did not cast this curse, I did not bring us back to Storybrooke, I did not erase your memories and I surely did not get you pregnant, dearest. I don't know who or what this is but I assure you, I have had no part in it. I understand that everyone is used to me being the villain but I'm not the villain anymore. At least, not in this story," Regina replies, a wave of hurt echoing within her dark brown eyes. Smiling softly, Snow reaches forward, her fingers gently grazing against the Mayor's as she squeezes her hand in reassurance.
"You're not a bad person, Regina. It's time that you stop thinking of yourself as one and start thinking of yourself as one of us: the good guys. Now, how do we fix this mess? How do we get our memories back, because I for one would like to know how in the hell this happened," Snow gestures to her pregnant self and Regina only snorts with a hard roll of her eyes, her long fingers grazing against the coffee mug longingly.
"Well, if you do not understand the basic concepts of biology, Snow, there is simply nothing I can help you with. Pity your mother and father did not teach you about the birds and the bees when they had the chance," Regina snips sarcastically, "as for the rest of it? I don't know. I don't know how to fix this, or if we even can even fix this."
"But there has to be a reason we are back in Storybrooke. There's some kind of curse going on here… some kind of magic. I just need to know what it is. There has to…"
"Look, Snow," Regina snaps, her voice is oozing with hostility, "I am not a human dictionary of all the evil in the worlds. I don't know what happened, or is still happening. I do not know who cast this spell nor do I know how to make it any better. I do not know anything, just like you do not. This magic is… this magic is stronger than anything I could ever conjure. It is bigger than me. So, I guess all that we really can do is sit here and wait. Wait to live or wait to die." She mutters depressingly, lifting her mug as she takes another long swig of the caffeinated drink. Shaking her head with a disgruntled groan, Snow arches her eyebrows in confusion as one hand lowers onto her stomach protectively, the other pinches the bridge of her nose.
"What about Emma?" asks Snow. At the sound of the familiar name, Regina's head snaps up and for a moment, a very brief moment might the princess add, did she see a new shade of life and color fill within those dark brown eyes. Then, as quick as it came, it goes fleetingly when she looks down to study her hands.
"Emma is not coming back this time," Regina replies heavily.
"But we are in trouble. Every time that we are in trouble, Emma magically rides in and saves the day. She's like her father in that aspect. She was born to stop the curse that you cast. She is going to come back to save us from this one too. She is the savior, after all," Emma informs the beauty that sits across from her. At this, a painful smirk appears on the Mayor's face before she shakes her head, looking up at her stepdaughter with heavy, pain filled eyes.
"I erased Emma and Henry's memories. They have no recollection of Storybrooke, of you, or of me. It is as if we never existed to them in the first place. This never existed. Emma never gave Henry up for adoption and she did not suffer through a world of not knowing her parents. I gave them the best life possible. They have no reason for coming back to Storybrooke; we are nothing to them. So, you should not be sitting here, waiting with your baited breath for Emma Swan to glide through that door, flash her pretty little smile and say in her overly confident voice that shit about bringing the happily ever afters back. My son is never coming back. It is about time that you accept your daughter is not either," Regina explains, pushing her palm downside on the table, using it to leverage herself up. She is about to walk away from the princess who is fighting the tears within her own eyes, when she feels slender fingers around her wrist.
Turning around, she finds herself standing face-to-face with her stepdaughter, a mirrored reflection of the life that her mother so desperately wanted her to have. She hated Snow for everything that happened, but on some level deep down, and Regina means so deep that the human race could never reach it, she knows that she cares for the poor girl.
At least, now she does.
"I know that you cast your spell and erased Emma and Henry's memories because you had to let go of the thing that you love the most. And you probably think that is Henry- and maybe it is. But you are forgetting one thing, Regina," At this Regina shrugs her shoulders, squinting her eyes as she encourages the petite woman to continue.
"Emma is the product of true love. She is the chosen one. She is the perfect fairytale definition of what unconditional love is; without rhyme, without reason, without knowing where or when or why. And you should know by now that true love conquers everything, even the darkest curses. You are the moon and Emma is the sun. You are dark and she is bright. You both parallel each other, but you cannot exist without one another. You should remember that true love will always lead you home in the end," Snow explains, a gentle knowing smile playing upon her lips.
"Are you implying that Emma's true love is in Storybrooke? Because I have not seen Neal around. I am not even sure if the curse truly affected him," Regina retorts. Shrugging softly, Snow gently pulls her hand away from her stepmother, leaning to walk away from her but she stops, just for a moment, as she turns back to her.
"I am saying that Emma's true love is a lot closer than any of us may realize. And it may not be in the form that we have all been thinking it was. True love will always win. Emma will come back for you. You just wait. She is the Savior. She is going to bring the happy endings back to Storybrooke and she is going to help you write yours," Snow smiles before she walks away to mingle with some people that rightly makes Regina's stomach churn at the sight of them.
Sighing softly, Regina cannot help but shake her head as the tears burn within her eyes. She watches as Snow talks to Charming, who seems extremely uninterested in whatever she is saying, but is still dotting to her every request. Even when she is boring him shitless, they are still ever so charming. Biting her bottom lip to keep the cry from escaping within the back of her throat, Regina is terribly reminded that this will never be her life. She erased herself from Emma's memory, and from Henry's; the two people that she loved the most in the world have no idea that she exists; the two people that she would have lived for no longer know that she is even alive.
No one is coming for her.
And that is something that Regina has painfully learned to accept.
Emma Swan sits at her desk at the New York Department of Corrections, hot cocoa with cinnamon on one side, a chocolate doughnut on the other, and a sea of paperwork scattered in front of her that just does not seem to make sense anymore. In fact, she is pretty sure that if she stares at one more piece of legal bullshit, her eyes really may just start bleeding in the equivalent of the Niagara Falls.
This morning had been like any other morning, really. Henry had gotten up much too early for school, read the morning paper as she made his pancakes and eggs, with a touch of cinnamon, of course. Reagan had been her normal fussy self, as in, nothing Emma did or offered her was not anything remotely close to being good enough. And in her morning haste, everything Emma tried to do went horribly and terribly wrong. Yet, in the midst of all it, she could not shake the annoying vibrations that echoed within her ear.
She knows that she must sound crazy; and maybe that's just it. Maybe after all of her years of bounty hunting, playing the life of a single mother, trying to maintain some kind of friendship with people, and running on very little to no sleep has drove her insane. That happens to people, right? People go crazy and hallucinate things, especially when they are running on exhaustion fumes. She has read stories about it; stories about women going into a manic state after they have a baby, maybe that is what this is. Because losing her damn mind is the only logical explanation that Emma has for any of this.
Sighing in frustration, the petite blonde leans forward, hunching over her desk as she pinches the bridge of her nose. Her head is beating with the rhythm of her own heart; something that she knows is anything but a good sign. Her world is painted with a dark curvature in her peripheral vision, and the back of her neck is clammy as it feels like the world is racing around her. Sucking in a very unevened breath, Emma's eyes flutter closed as the painted shadows and swirls once fill behind her eyelids. It is like watching a movie in fast forward, but the film is slightly broken, so all that you are seeing is static and disproportionate shadows. The voices all jumble together; voices that are full of panic, despair, laughter, anger, but there is one voice that is distinct above all the others. A raspy, hoarse voice that somehow breaks through the barriers of all the other fuzz that manages to fill behind Emma's eyelids.
Miss Swan.
"Who are you? What do you want from me?" Emma bemuses inwardly, clenching her jaw tightly as the world spins faster and faster around her. Digging her nails into the side of her desk, her eyes are closed so tightly that she cannot see how white her knuckles are turning. Her stomach is churning and the sweat is dripping down the back of her neck. Faster, faster, faster, like a merry-go-round, the shadows whizz past her before she has the chance to make a guess at what any of them are.
Miss Swan.
God, she's going to be sick, she mutters as the bile rises in her throat. She can see in a distance a shadow of the curves of a woman approaching her in the midst of all the lights. Her heart is hammering in her chest so hard that she fears it might burst straight out of her tank top and onto the floor. How in the hell is this happening right now? Even on the nights that she had been so fucked up that she could not remember her own name, she never experienced anything like this. There is a flutter in her heart; a glimpse of a smile behind her eyelids. Her lungs, well she is not sure what they end up doing but they completely forget how to work as the bile rises higher in her throat; there is a grasp of curling fingers upon her shoulder, squeezing roughly. Her mouth is dry as her eyes fervently dart from behind her closed eyelids, searching desperately for something besides the dark shadows.
Miss Swan.
"Who in the hell are you?!" Emma snaps aloud, slamming her hands against the mahogany desk at which sits. The dramatic movement causes her cinnamon cocoa to spiral into the floor, spilling the hot contents everywhere. A grumbling curse causes Emma's eyes to flutter open quickly as her head snaps up to find a man in a very nice suit looming over her.
"Is that any way to greet your boss, Miss Swan?" The man calls out to her, pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his suit. The lines that are etched on his scruffy face lets Emma know exactly how much shit she truly is in.
"Mr. Davis, I am so sorry. I didn't know you were standing there. It's been such a shit morning and everything is going wrong and I-I-I… I'm just so sorry!" Emma begs, taking her own napkin as she attempts to rub the cocoa out of his very expensive jacket, but she is only making it worse. Groaning in frustration, he takes her petite wrist in his hand and removes it from his suit, glaring at her through squinted eyes, "please do not fire me." Her voice is tiny now, almost childlike, and she cannot help but be reminded of Henry when he finds himself in trouble. However, she is sure that no matter how many times she bats her eyelashes, or pouts, or pleads, she cannot get herself out of this.
"My, aren't we awfully petty this morning? I am not going to fire you, Miss Swan. At least, not over something so irrelevant as spilling your cocoa." Mr. Davis huffs, returning the wrist to it's rightful owner before he pulls out a folder from his brief case, "I certainly would not fire you when you are the only one who can do this job." He states, handing her the files with an attempted smile upon his scruffy face. Looking at him in confusion, the petite blonde takes the files within her hand before she sits back down at her desk.
"What is this?"
"It is not a secret, Miss Swan, that you are the very best at what you do. In all of my years, I have never experienced so much success out of someone before. You put all of your blood, sweat, tears, and heart into your job and I absolutely love that about you. It is why when this case mysteriously came across my desk, I knew that you were the best candidate for it." Mr. Davis explains, watching as Emma flips through the papers that are sitting before her.
"This is an extended assignment," Emma points out, stopping short as she looks up at her boss. Mr. Davis only nods his head as he pulls out the chair that sits directly across from Emma's; his long fingers lace around one another as he lets out a heavy sigh, "you know that I can't do extended assignments. I have Henry a-and Reagan. I would be gone for months. He has school and I would miss so much of her life. She is about to hit those big milestones and I don't want to miss out on my kid's life. I-I can't do this. I mean, this is crazy, right?"
"Take them with you," Mr. Davis explains so simply that Emma must have been crazy not think of it herself. Snorting out a forced laugh, Emma runs her fingers through her messy blonde hair as she leans back in her leather chair.
"I know that you are not seriously suggesting that I take my children bounty hunting with me, Mr. Davis. Now, I don't know you personally so I don't know if you have children or not, but the whole notion of uprooting my children, dragging them halfway across the world as their Mommy chases down a dangerous, might I add, bad guy is pretty ridiculous." Emma exclaims, thumbing through the files that are in front of her. Mr. Davis lets out another heavy sigh, tapping his fingers against Emma's desk before he finds a voice somewhere deep within him.
"You would be gone for a while. I know that you don't want to do this and if there was anybody else that I could ask, I would have already done it. But you are the best one that we have, Emma. And this guy… this guy, he is really tricky and the reward that is being offered for him? It could really save this department. And this would give you the recognition that you deserve. I already did some research of the town; there is a great school there in which your son can attend. Cases like this, Emma, they don't come around every day. Do you really want to be that person who passed on catching Jesse James?" Davis probes. Emma squints her eyebrows as she studies her boss, her shoulders rigid and a breath trapped somewhere within her chest.
"But this is not Jesse James. This is some jackass who gets off on taking things that do not belong to him. A modern day Robin Hood, I guess," Emma muses, taking a bite of her chocolate doughnut. Smirking playfully, Davis reaches forward as he clasps his hand over Emma's, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Yes. A modern day Robin Hood. And every story needs a Charming to ride in and save the day, right?" winks Davis.
"Are you calling me a Charming?" snorts Emma, crumbs of doughnut sticking to her face. Using the back of her brown leather jacket sleeve, she wipes them from her mouth, watching the twinkle that appears in Davis' eyes.
"In this case? Yes. Because Charming always manages to save the day. Now, the story of Robin Hood actually turns out really well for the little guy, but in this case, Charming is going to save the day. You are going to capture this guy and find out exactly who is working for and you are going to bring him back to me. This department is going to flourish with the reward that is being offered for him. And you're going to be the hero. Everybody wins here." Davis explains, his face lighting up in excitement and Emma cannot help but snicker. She has been called a lot of things in her lifetime, but Charming surely had never been one of them.
"Except for Robin Hood." Emma points out, closing the file. Davis only shrugs as he stands from the chair, neatly tucking the handkerchief back within his suit pocket. His eyes study Emma for a moment and she thinks he is going to say something entirely different, but rather, he remains quiet. Instead he only smiles as his employee, shoving his hand deep within the pocket of his suit.
"Yes, except for poor old Robin Hood. But let's be honest, who really cares about him anyway? Nobody likes a vigilante. Everybody knows that Charming was always going to ride in, save the day, and get the girl. Good always wins, Emma." winks Davis, his hand gently squeezing the back of her shoulder, and with his parting advice, he disappears around the corner of their building.
Sighing as she slouches back against her leather chair, Emma flips through the file of the middle aged man who has been stealing from everyone and everything in his town and the towns that are nearby. He is also responsible for several carjackings, she denotes as she turns the page. However, he does not exactly fit the description of the average people who are arrested for this type of crime. He looks every bit like a normal thirty year old father with a promise of hope in his eyes. He looks like a good guy who just made a few bad choices that landed him at this point in his life. They all had just been lost, wandering souls who found themselves on the wrong side of the tracks with nobody there to save them. For this, Emma is thankful that her parents had been there to give her direction and save her from going down a very similar path.
Her emerald eyes glance over at the photo of Henry and Reagan sitting on her desk. Reagan is sitting in her brother's lap in a cute little red dress, that same duckie in her hand, and she has the biggest grin upon her face. Henry is looking down at his sister like she is the most perfect thing that has ever truly existed in the world. These two little monsters are her entire world; Emma exhales heavily as her thumb gently traces the shape of the frame. She had always promised that she would give them the very best life possible; promised that they would want for nothing and would have the happiest story that would ever be told. From the moment they were both placed within her arms, she promised that she would dry every tear, be the cause for every smile, and that she would never hurt them. These two little monsters had taught her how to love again when her heart had been so damaged that she found it nearly impossible.
Emma always wanted to be her children's hero, because they had saved her.
Suddenly, knowing exactly what she had to do, Emma quickly shuts the file in front of her and reaches for the phone that is nestled somewhere within her leather jacket. Staring at the photo before her, Emma quickly dials the familiar seven numbers and a heart warming voice quickly fills her ear.
"Hey Mom. I'm fine and Reagan is napping. What's up?" It's Henry who answers the important questions with what sounds like a cheeky grin upon his face. Laughing at her son's eagerness, Emma stuffs the file within the bag that sits by her desk.
"Pack your bags, kid. We're going on an adventure." replies Emma.
"What's the destination?" pipes Henry, an excitement within his voice. It is the sound of his eagerness that reminds Emma that she is doing the right thing. It may be inconvenient; it may be uprooting her family for an unknown amount of time, but, for some rhyme or reason, nothing has ever made more sense in her entire life than chasing this endless map to a small town in the middle of nowhere.
Maybe not only would she find her modern day Robin Hood there; but perhaps, Emma Swan would find other answers that she did not even know she was searching for.
"Storybrooke, Maine."