A/N: Although The Doctor indicates that Regina essentially went from Good to Evil overnight, I'm taking the view that it was actually more gradual. Although I think several factors played a role in her change, I am also assuming that magic is a major one. Her magic fed her hatred and her hatred fed her magic, and if magic is an addiction (as it seems to be on the show) then it would take her a while to become completely the Evil Queen.

Chapter Four: So Far From Home

For a long while, they walked in silence.

Emma was thankful for the quiet. It gave her time to think, time to organize her thoughts.

Cora had beaten them.

Mary Margaret had accepted this without much comment, and had treated it as though it were merely another setback. She still firmly believed that they would return safely to Storybrooke, that the loss of the compass and the portal merely meant that it would take a little longer. It was obvious that the extra time was upsetting her, though. And Emma couldn't blame her for that. David was trapped in some horrible netherworld, and Cora was in Storybrooke with everyone that that the two women loved, and every second they spent in this land was an extra second they weren't back home.

But Mary Margaret's faith in their ultimate triumph was unshaken. She truly believed that they would make it back to Storybrooke, and that David and Henry would be safe until they did.

Emma did not have that faith.

Before Emma could ponder her lack of faith any further, however, Mary Margaret interrupted her thoughts by asking Hook, "What is Cora planning to do now that she's in Storybrooke?"

Hook glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, and retorted, "How would I know?"

"She didn't tell you?" Emma questioned skeptically. Cora didn't seem like the sharing type, she supposed, but hadn't she and Hook been a team?

"Why would she?" Hook countered with a shrug that showed just how little he cared about Cora's plans. "We both wanted to reach your world so a partnership was mutually beneficial. But there was really no need to discuss what would happen after we found our way."

"It didn't bother you at all that you had no idea what Cora was planning? She's powerful and evil, and you were content to help her reach Storybrooke where she could hurt countless innocent people?"

"Innocent is a matter of opinion," Hook answered, a hint of bitterness in his tone. Then he shook his head and added, "And no, I don't care about Cora or what she does. She's your problem."

"You made her our problem," Mary Margaret snapped.

Hook rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't. In case you didn't notice, Cora managed to find her way to Storybrooke just fine without me. I didn't force her on any of you."

Before Mary Margaret could respond to that, Emma interjected, "How did you meet Cora in the first place?"

Hook stopped walking and turned to face Emma. His lips curved into a sardonic smile as he challenged, "And why would I tell you about my past when you are so reluctant to tell me about yours?"

Emma bristled, but Mary Margaret murmured, "Don't let him bait you."

Emma gritted her teeth and pushed past Hook, determined to ignore him. His ability to read her was disconcerting, and the last thing she wanted to do was give him any more information that he might be able to use against her in the future. He had already said that he only cared about his revenge against Gold, and that meant he would be more than willing to manipulate her if it suited his purposes.

She was tired of being a pawn. Gold had used her, she was sure of that. She wasn't going to let the pirate do the same.

Hook laughed throatily and resumed walking. They were all silent for a moment, and then he said, "Your darling Evil Queen sent me to kill her." At Emma's confused glance, he elaborated, "That is how I met Cora."

"Regina sent you to kill her mother?" Emma repeated in disbelief. Then her eyes narrowed and she added, "But you failed."

"Obviously," Hook drawled. "Cora… convinced… me that it would be in my best interest to join forces with her and betray her daughter. She made quite a compelling argument, so I opted to help her instead."

"Oh, really?" Emma replied. "What did she say?"

Hook gave her a chilling smile that could have conveyed so many different answers, but simply said, "I think I've shared enough about my past now. Unless, of course, you are willing to share something about yours?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "No wonder Peter Pan wanted to kill you," she grumbled irritably.

Hook frowned at her. "How do you know about him?" he asked, his tone laced with distaste.

"A lot of the people who lived in this world show up as fairytale characters in the stories from the other world," Mary Margaret supplied. She quickened her pace to draw level with Emma and added, "Of course, the stories themselves usually aren't completely correct, but they do have some truth to them."

"And these stories… Chief Pan is in them?" Hook pressed, showing an actual interest for the first time since the beginning of the conversation.

"Yes," Mary Margaret replied.

At the same time, Emma asked, "Chief Pan? He's just a boy in our stories." Then she paused thoughtfully before adding, "He is a leader, though. I suppose it is possible he was considered a chief. I don't remember the story that well."

Hook narrowed his eyes at that, but said nothing else. Emma found herself intrigued against her will – she wanted to know the real story of Peter Pan. But telling Hook that she was interested in that would only give the pirate more leverage against her.

Again, a silence fell.

As they walked, Emma reached up and absently ran her fingers over her chest, directly above her heart. The brief pain she had felt when Cora had reached into her chest had long since faded, as had the searing heat that had accompanied the strange burst of power that had forced Cora away from her. She felt normal now, but still…

She had magic. Magic existed inside of her. How was that possible?

Was Gold behind it?

Mary Margaret reached over and caught her wrist, stilling her hand. Worried eyes flicked up to Emma's face.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," Emma rushed to assure the other woman, "it doesn't. I'm fine. I was just… thinking."

Mary Margaret released her wrist with a nod that did not entirely quell the concern in her gaze, and Emma dropped her hand back to her side.

The blonde cast a sidelong look at Hook. He was watching the exchange with a calculating expression, but when he caught her staring at him, he merely smiled and raised an eyebrow.

She turned away from him and exchanged a look with Mary Margaret. Hook had been unconscious when Cora had tried to rip out Emma's heart. He did not know about the magic Emma possessed, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"We'll talk about it back in Storybrooke," Mary Margaret said in a low voice. "The Blue Fairy might have some ideas. Or…" she hesitated, clearly not liking the option but knowing it couldn't be avoided, "Gold might know."

Emma grimaced, but nodded her agreement.

"If I might interrupt whatever it is you are whispering about," Hook said, "night is falling. I suggest we find a good place to camp."

"We can't just stop!" Emma protested immediately. "We're still two days away from your ship. We'll make better time if we keep walking through the night."

"I imagine we will make better time for the first hour or so," Hook replied flatly. "Right up until the ogres find us. Then we'll be dead."

"He's right, Emma," Mary Margaret agreed. Emma spun around to give her an incredulous stare, but she merely sighed and explained, "It's too dangerous to keep moving at night. The ogres… next time I might not be able to make that shot."

Emma hesitated, torn. Every part of her wanted to press forward, to keep walking until they made it to the ocean, to Hook's ship, to Storybrooke. To Henry. But Mary Margaret's words were a gentle reminder that she was out of place in this world, and that the last time she had ignored warnings about the ogres she had nearly gotten them all killed.

And she would be of no help to Henry if she was dead.

She gave a reluctant nod.

"There's some high ground over there," Mary Margaret said, pointing through the thicket of trees towards a slightly sloping knoll. "We can start a fire there, and get some rest. Emma, you and I can split the watches."

"You don't want me to take one of the watches?" Hook asked mockingly. "Don't you trust me to protect you?"

Mary Margaret gave him a hard stare and said bluntly, "No."

"How well do you know Cora?"

Mary Margaret started at Emma's question. Her arms were filled with kindling for the fire, and most of her attention was on Hook, who stood at the other end of the small clearing, gathering firewood himself. The pirate might be helping them – for now – but that did not mean she was ever going to let him out of her sight.

Keeping her eyes on Hook, Mary Margaret replied, "I knew her when I was younger. I met her when I met Regina, and she came to the palace with us. But she disappeared before the wedding, and I hadn't seen her since then... until now."

"Disappeared?"

Mary Margaret sighed and shifted the weight of the firewood from one arm to the other. "I was too young to understand at the time, but… now, looking back on it, I think it is likely that Regina got rid of her somehow."

"You mean… she tried to kill her?"

"No," Mary Margaret said quickly, surprised at her own immediate and instinctual defense. They had both met Cora, and knew perfectly well what she was capable of, and though it was hard to imagine condoning matricide… well, was Regina trying to kill her mother really such an unthinkable proposition?

Anyway, they already knew that Regina had tried to have Cora killed at least once. Hook had admitted to that.

Something twisted unpleasantly in Mary Margaret's chest and she blinked quickly, looking from Hook to her daughter and then back to the pirate.

It was hard to talk about this younger Regina, the woman who had existed in the beginning. It was hard to even think about her – her memory had been so corrupted by the suffering the Evil Queen had cast on all of them. But Mary Margaret still remembered the desperate hope she had felt when they had given Regina one last chance to prove that she wasn't all Evil Queen… and she remembered the feel of the knife slipping into her stomach, destroying her hopes, as the Evil Queen failed the test.

"I think Regina just wanted her… gone," Mary Margaret said at last. "She must have sent her somewhere, although I have no idea where. Like I said, I haven't seen her since before Regina's wedding to my father, and by the time it occurred to me to ask questions, it was too late. My father was dead, and Regina wouldn't have given me the truth."

"So you have no idea what happened, but you're adamant that Regina wouldn't have tried to kill her own mother? Isn't this the same woman who ripped out her father's heart to enact the curse?"

"What?" Mary Margaret demanded, turning her gaze away from Hook once more and giving Emma a look of surprise.

"Ah…" Emma blinked and looked a bit sheepish. "You haven't read that part of Henry's book?"

Mary Margaret shook her head wordlessly.

"Oh... well."

Mary Margaret sighed and set her armful of kindling on the ground, and Emma crouched beside her, waiting for more of an explanation. It was painfully evident that the blonde was still having trouble wrapping her head around everything that had happened since the curse broke, and even though she knew that they were all fairy tale characters…

Knowing was not the same as truly understanding.

"Regina didn't change over night. It took longer, and it happened in… pieces. The person she was at the beginning, even after everything that had happened with Daniel, was still very different from the person she became at the end. And the woman who stood in the center of that great hall and married my father… I just don't think she would have killed her mother." She sighed. "Even if that was something she was willing to do later."

"If you say so," Emma answered, the skepticism clear in her voice.

Mary Margaret rubbed at her eyes and quietly contemplated Emma's disbelief.

She had spent so long trying to figure out why Regina hated her. Hiding in the woods as an outlaw, a fugitive from her own home and her own people, she'd had plenty of time to try to unravel just how everything had fallen apart. Before she knew about Daniel's fate, before Regina finally gave her that last puzzle piece, she'd been left with only guesses and conjecture, and it had never seemed like enough. What had she done to deserve such hatred?

But although she had not been able to see the full picture until much later, she had figured out that her stepmother had been jealous. Not of her beauty as the ridiculous fairytales would say, but of her place in her father's heart. King Leopold had only ever had room for two people in his heart, and though she had died, Snow's beloved mother had never truly left him. He'd given all his love and all his attention to his daughter and the memory of his first wife, and there had been nothing left for Regina.

As a child, Mary Margaret hadn't noticed it, but now, as an adult, it was obvious upon reflection. And although it was hardly an excuse for what Regina had become – and not even the main reason for the Evil Queen's hatred of Snow – it did add a layer of complexity that did not exist in the more familiar Disney version of the story.

"Tell me about her?" Emma requested. "Regina. What she was like… before."

Mary Margaret rocked back on her heels and contemplated the question. She had never had to provide a description of the innocent Regina in the past because no one had ever wanted to know. She'd told James, of course, but those had been whispered confessions in the night, a sharing of her own burdens. She'd always been the one to initiate the stories – James himself had never asked.

And now Emma wanted to know.

"The Regina I first met, the one told me about true love, the one who told me that the only way to overcome my fears was to face them… she was the kind of person I would have given anything to have as a stepmother… as a friend."

"She changed," Emma said, and it wasn't a question.

Mary Margaret nodded, her throat suddenly dry. "Yes," she whispered. "She changed."

"Because of Cora?" Emma pressed. "You said something about Cora killing Regina's true love."

"Daniel. Yes. Yes, she killed him. My father wanted to marry Regina, but Regina wanted to run away with a stable hand named Daniel. I caught the two of them kissing and Regina made me promise not to tell anyone." A fond smile curved Mary Margaret's lips as she added wistfully, "That was the night she told me about true love."

"But you told Cora."

Again, it wasn't a question, and it wasn't even an accusation, but Mary Margaret felt a sudden need to defend herself.

"Yes. She tricked me into telling her and when she found out… I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was just a child and I didn't understand what Cora was like. She killed Daniel. She ripped his heart out and crushed it into dust… in front of Regina."

"That wasn't your fault," Emma protested. "You were just a child and Cora is… well… Cora."

Mary Margaret didn't answer. She'd heard those words before, from her Charming. And she knew, logically, that it wasn't her fault, but sometimes she still felt the guilt. It would eat away at her, silently reminding her that all this could have been avoided if only she hadn't been so naïve.

If only she had not so innocently believed that everyone was truly good at heart.

She closed her eyes. "When my father and Regina married, she told me that Daniel had left. She told me that what she had felt for Daniel was just lust, but that she loved my father and she loved me. I didn't find out the truth until much later. Regina told me right before I ate the apple."

She stood up abruptly, glancing over towards Hook. She'd forgotten about the pirate, and for a moment she felt a rush of fear that he might have left them – or done worse. But he was still there, starting the fire and watching them.

He smiled and gave Mary Margaret a wink.

Emma growled under her breath as she rose to her feet as well.

"Come on," Mary Margaret said, picking up the kindling, "we should get back to the fire."

Emma caught her arm. "Do you believe Regina can change back?" she asked. "Do you believe she can become good again?"

And that was the question, wasn't it?

"When she told me about Daniel… she was so far gone, Emma. So evil, so… She'd killed and caused suffering and delighted in it. But there was more than just rage in her eyes that day. There was love, too, when she said his name. True, genuine love. I hadn't seen that in her eyes since Daniel died, and I…" She stopped, trying to choose her words carefully. "I saw it in Storybrooke. When you spoke of Henry, when you said that Henry had asked you to protect her… I saw the way she reacted to his name. I saw the love in her eyes. I truly believe that she loves him and that she will do all she can to keep him safe."

"She tried to put me in an enchanted sleep even though she knew how much it would hurt Henry if anything happened to me," Emma retorted pointedly, her expression bitter. "And look how well that turned out."

"I know," Mary Margaret agreed heavily. "But if she wants to change, I think her love of Henry will help her."

"And do you think she wants to change?"

Mary Margaret hesitated. "I don't know," she admitted reluctantly. "And… even if she wants to, that doesn't mean she'll succeed at it. She's been the Evil Queen for so long, Emma, and she's done such horrible things… there may be no way for her to come back from that."

Emma nodded and lapsed into silence and the two walked towards the fire.

As Mary Margaret dropped the firewood onto the ground next to Hook, she thought over everything she and Emma had said – and everything they hadn't said. She had specifically not asked if the blonde thought Regina could change because she wasn't sure she wanted the answer. Emma never bothered to hide her distrust and dislike of Regina, and Mary Margaret could not blame her for that. But everyone had repeatedly told her that her belief in Regina was misplaced, and she didn't want to hear it all again. She was honest enough to admit that Regina's chances of redemption were slim at best, but she still desperately wanted to believe.

But wanting something to be true did not make it so, and she had learned that the hard way.

She had made the mistake of letting the Evil Queen go once before, and it had cost her. She would not make that same mistake again.

"Your Majesty. May I join you?"

King George looked up sharply at the question, surprised by the interruption into his solitude. He had not heard the woman approach, but now that she was standing before him, he felt a thrill of something racing in his chest.

This woman carried herself as someone who knew what she wanted and was used to getting it.

He narrowed his eyes at her even as he gestured for her to take a seat next to him on the bench. The night air was cold and the street was empty of everything but a few stray leaves still blowing in the wind, but he had no desire to return home. There was nothing there for him. Just emptiness and memories.

"Who are you?" he asked. She looked vaguely familiar, and he thought he might have known her at some point in the past, in the other world that had been his home.

"No one of consequence," she answered with a smile.

"You know how I am," he said. "It is only fair you tell me who you are."

"Guess," she murmured with a light laugh.

He eyed her garb. "You are dressed in clothing from our land. Expensive clothing. Nobility? At the very least, you must be the wife of a wealthy landowner. And clearly you are ready to return home, though it seems that that might never happen. Or are you trying to bring home to Storybrooke?"

She continued to smile.

He frowned and turned away, suddenly annoyed. "I have no desire to play idiotic guessing games," he snapped. "Tell me who you are and what you want, or leave."

"I was married to a wealthy landowner," she said, "but he died. He was killed, actually. By the Evil Queen."

George huffed impatiently. "A lot of people were killed by her. What do I care about your story?"

"Snow White let her live," the woman said, her voice hard and cold. Anger flashed dangerously in her eyes. "They had her trapped, ready to execute her, and our wonderful and fair princess let her go." A pause, then, "Or is Snow a Queen now, and not a princess?"

"Why tell me this?" George asked, curious despite himself. He'd been allies with the Evil Queen once, though the partnership had been more a reluctant joining of forces than anything else. They had needed each other to achieve their separate plans, and so the alliance had been born. But he felt nothing for the Evil Queen, and certainly did not care what happened to her.

"Because you seem to be the only one here who can see what is happening," the woman said. She looked away, tilting her head up towards the sky as though she was studying the stars. "Do you know why Snow let her live? Because she wanted to. Not because it was the right thing to do, not because it was fair or just, not because she had no other choice… no, she let the Evil Queen live because she wanted to. As though her own wishes superseded the safety of her people. As though our pain and suffering meant nothing. As though we did not deserve justice."

"I'm sure Snow White didn't see it that way," George replied, his words acidic. "I'm sure she justified it to herself somehow. Saving a life or some other ridiculously noble cause. She and her Charming husband were always quite good at self-delusion."

"Did you know they cast a protection spell on the Evil Queen before they released her?" the woman pressed, leaning in towards George. "They used magic to ensure that she could never harm either Snow White or Prince James, and then they simply let her leave. Banishment, they called it. Never mind the fact that she could still harm everyone else in the kingdom. Such wonderful monarchs, aren't they? So just and fair. Heroes, really."

Her words were poison. They wrapped around the hatred and the anger already festering in his heart. That anger grew, flickering brighter with every passing second, morphing into a need for revenge.

He blinked and quickly averted his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked hoarsely, trying to think past the rage that infused every part of his mind.

"I want to know why the Evil Queen is still walking free in this land. I want to know why James thought he could simply resume his role as a leader here, even though this country is not a monarchy. I want to know why all the other royals haven't demanded their own fair share of control, particularly now that Snow is gone and James is… indisposed. I want to know why we don't seem to get a say in anything anymore." She paused. "I want answers… and I want justice."

"You came to the wrong person," George ground out, hating to admit it but knowing that he had already been defeated. "I might have been a king once, and the district attorney, too, but all my power has been stripped away. The prince saw to that – him and his pet wolf."

James had taken everything from him.

And he wasn't even James. He was an imposter using his brother's name, a shepherd pretending to be a king.

George felt a growl rising in his throat at the mere thought of everything he had lost. He had been happy once, with his wife. When his wife had been alive, she would smile at him and it seemed as though the entire world grew brighter. He had imagined a future for them – one filled with laughter and love and children. But the years had passed and his wife had been barren, and then they had finally managed to obtain a son…

It hadn't been easy to love James – the real James – at first. The boy was a constant reminder of his wife's infertility, of the one thing that had been missing from his otherwise perfect life. But time had passed, and James had changed from being a necessary heir to an actual son, to someone that George had both loved and cherished. He had been the shining light in George's life after his wife had died.

And then James had died, too, and his brother had taken his place.

And that had brought nothing but heartache and pain and ruin.

The woman rose to her feet, her movements distracting George from his thoughts. "They stripped you of your power?" she said softly. "Then it seems to me there is only one thing to do. Take it back."