A/N: This is the last chapter that takes place completely in Storybrooke before we jump back to Emma and Mary Margaret again.

Chapter Ten: Up In Flames

The ink was colder than she had expected.

It was old, and it clumped together instead of running evenly from the bottle. It was tacky, and stuck to her skin even after she had pressed each finger to the white parchment, leaving behind faded prints.

Ruby observed all of this in a detached manner, vaguely aware that she should be paying more attention to what was happening around her instead of staring blankly at the ink. But she was numb, and sluggish, and none of this made any sense.

Someone moved in front of her, pulling the card with her fingerprints away. A bottle of rubbing alcohol and a bag of cotton balls were set on the desk in front of her, and she stared at them without comprehension.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes, an exasperated voice said, "To clean your hands."

She blinked, and reached slowly for the bottle.

As she wiped the ink from her fingers, only barely aware of what she was doing, she allowed herself to glance around the room. They had brought her to the sheriff's station for this interrogation, but had asked no questions. Maybe they thought there was nothing to ask. Maybe they believed they already had enough evidence. Maybe…

The ink stained the cotton ball a dusky gray. As she cleaned her fingers, she felt the warmth slowly spread through her body, chasing away the numbness and clearing the fog of confusion from her mind. She had been so stunned when they had arrested her that she had not even though to fight back, but now that she understood just what was happening, she forced herself to focus.

She turned towards the man who appeared to be in charge. "Where's my lawyer?"

The man gazed at her coolly. "You don't have lawyer, wolf," he answered.

She raised an eyebrow. If his threatening tone and insulting epithet was meant to make her cower, he would be sorely disappointed; it had exactly the opposite effect.

"I have a right to one," she shot back, lips curled into a snarl.

The man actually laughed. "Do you? And who told you that?"

Ruby blinked again, then reached back into her memory and pulled forth the words, "The defendant is not only allowed legal representation, but is guaranteed it." Regina's curse had dumped seventh grade United States history into her head, and while she hadn't had much of a use for it before, she was thankful for it now.

"In the United States, perhaps," a new voice said as another man entered the room, "but Storybrooke isn't quite part of that country."

Ruby swiveled in her chair. "King Stefan," she said softly, venom creeping into her tone as she eyed the man. She didn't know him well, but she doubted his presence meant anything good for her. Particularly if he was the one intent on keeping her from a fair trial. "So you have no intention of upholding the law?"

The king smiled easily, apparently not in the least disturbed by her anger or her accusation. "It is not our law," he replied, stepping around the table so that he was standing directly in front of her. He leaned forward, pressing his hands onto the table and towering over her, "This is not our land, regardless of what the Evil Queen's curse did."

"But we aren't in your kingdom, either," Ruby countered. "And I am not one of your subjects."

"Well…" Stefan studied her for a long moment, as though contemplating her point, and then said, "I suppose that is true. If your king and queen disagree with my methods, they are more than welcome to bring their complaints to me themselves. As you are their subject, I would of course respect their request to be involved in your trial."

Ruby narrowed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists beneath the table. "That's not fair," she protested angrily. "Snow is in a different realm and David has been cursed. They can't…"

"It wasn't fair to Sir Maurice when you stabbed him in the chest, either," Stefan interrupted. "He deserves justice, and I refuse to deny him that."

"All I am asking is that you wait until Snow and David are back with us," Ruby argued heatedly.

"And if they never come back?" Stefan asked softly. "Would you have us wait indefinitely? Delay justice so that we can await the whims of rulers who may never return?" He straightened. "I think not, Miss Lucas." He glanced over at one of the guards. "Lock her in the cell."

And she was hauled roughly from the interrogation room.

Stefan watched as Leah paced back and forth in agitation. Waiting had never been one of his wife's strong points, and with a man dead she was even less able to manage her frustration.

He glanced at the watch strapped around his wrist. He was anxious as well, but it would do no good to rush the Blue Guard. They needed evidence quickly, of course, but they also needed the evidence to be accurate. The techniques of this world – fingerprinting, blood typing – were new to the Blue Guard, and though the knights of the Guard were certainly flexible enough to adapt to the new situation, they needed a bit more time to understand these results.

In the last twenty-nine years, none of them had been detectives, police officers, or forensic scientists. No doubt the Evil Queen had not wanted to bestow such knowledge upon them, knowing how effective it would make them if the curse ever broke.

So the technicians at the hospital were doing the blood typing and the fingerprint analyst employed by the sheriff's station was comparing prints, and the medical examiner in the hospital's morgue was performing the autopsy, and the Blue Guard was merely standing watch until the results were ready.

"It would be better if we could do a DNA analysis," Leah said abruptly.

Stefan nodded. "It would, but that would require sending the knife over the town line and you know why we can't do that."

Leah nodded. "A pity they can't do it at the hospital."

"Yes, but Dr. Whale was clear that they didn't have the capabilities to do that. All we can do is the blood typing…"

"Which will tell us what?" Leah snapped. "That the blood on the knife is A or B or O? A lot of people have those blood types."

Stefan glanced down at the paperwork he had received early in the afternoon. "Actually, Maurice had blood type AB," he said, "so that is what we should find on the knife. It's rare."

"There will be other people in the town who have it," Leah pointed out reasonably. "No matter how rare it is… this may be a small town, but it isn't that small."

"Yes, but the medical examiner should be able to match the knife to the wound, and when the technicians confirm that the blood is type AB, that will be enough to declare it the murder weapon."

Leah stopped her pacing and sighed. "I know," she agreed. "I just… wish we had more."

"We will," Stefan promised. "The Blue Guard will find more. They will find everything they need to obtain justice for Maurice. They've already found the murder weapon, located where the murder weapon came from, and ascertained a very likely motive for the suspect. All in less than a day. They are good at this, my love. That is why we gave them these responsibilities back in our land."

"And everything is set?"

"Yes," Stefan answered. "The cell has been repaired, the magic has been put in place. We are ready for whatever happens."

Leah nodded reluctantly. "Fine," she said. "But we don't have much time."

Stefan inclined his head in agreement.

There was no doubt in his mind that Red was responsible for Maurice's death. And that worried him.

Should Snow and James return, they would have a legitimate claim to overseeing the trial. The wolf was one of theirs, after all.

Red had killed people in the past – always by accident, never her fault, Snow had insisted – and yet while she had been given a place of influence on the royal council, the dead had been forgotten. They had never been given justice, the families had never been given closure. Lives had been ripped apart, both literally and figuratively, and yet Snow wouldn't even consider the option of locking up her wolf during the full moon. Red's freedom had been worth more to Snow than other people's lives.

That, combined with James' hatred for Maurice…

Well, Stefan was fairly certain that, if Snow and James were to have their way, Red would not have to pay for this murder, either.

But this time nobody could possibly claim that it had been an accident, that it wasn't her fault. And Stefan was going to make sure she finally paid the price for the lives she had taken.

A knock at the door pulled the king from his thoughts and caused the queen to stop her pacing. Then the door opened, and the queen's guard Edward entered the room.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing his head. He held a sheaf of papers in his hand.

"Well?" Leah demanded impatiently.

"The Blue Guard wishes to inform you that the results are in," he said. "The knife is a match for the stab wound that caused Sir Maurice's death, and the blood on the blade is type AB. Further, there was only one set of fingerprints on the knife's handle, and they belonged to Ruby Lucas."

Stefan glanced at Leah and said softly, "We have our killer."

When the woman tripped over the uneven cement and collapsed to the ground, dropping the bag of groceries she was carrying, King Charles immediately came to her aid. It was an automatic response, one that happened without any conscious thought on his part, and he was on his hands and knees gathering up spilled apples and a loaf of bread before he even realized it.

"Oh, thank you," the woman said before looking up and catching his gaze. "Oh… your Majesty," she started, blushing. "I didn't… you don't need to… I can manage…"

"Don't be silly," Charles replied, waiving away her concerns. "Let me help you." He gave her a critical look, and said, "That looked like a nasty fall. Is anything hurt?"

She smiled wanly. "Just my pride."

Charles laughed. "Don't worry about that," he said. "It heals quickly."

He knew quite a lot about pride. He'd had it in both his own kingdom and this strange land, though it had been very different in both places. In his kingdom, his pride had been in his family, and in his reputation as a fair and beloved leader.

Here…

Well, that was quite different. The person he had been under the Evil Queen's curse had been full of the wrong kind of pride. The pride that arose from material possessions and superficial power, the kind that spawned jealousy, the kind that twisted and soured every action.

He had kept his son away from Ella.

He had seen so clearly how much Thomas loved Ella, and he had seen just how much pain it had caused Ella when Thomas had been taken. And even though he knew that his actions in this world had been in some ways controlled by the curse and by Rumpelstiltskin's machinations, it was still hard to look back on what he had done and not feel shame.

Even not knowing who he was, who his son was, who Ella – or Ashley – was… even if he could claim that his lack of knowledge of the past and true love absolved him of some sins…

What kind of father forbid a son from being with the woman he loved? What kind of man refused to help a pregnant girl even when the father of her child was his own son?

Patrick Herman would never have rushed to help this poor woman with her arms full of groceries, but King Charles didn't hesitate to do so. The memories of both lives were fresh in his mind, and he didn't really know who he was anymore, but as he gathered up the last of the woman's groceries, he knew that at least he could say this better side was winning.

"Thank you, your Majesty," the woman said. "I'm sure you have other things to do, now that they've found that poor man's killer."

Charles frowned. "Other things?"

"With the trial…" the woman started, but then trailed off in confusion. "Aren't you overseeing the trial? Sir Maurice was a noble in your land, wasn't he?"

Charles' frown deepened. "He was," he agreed slowly. "But King Stefan and Queen Leah are managing the trial."

He had thrown his support in with Leah and Stefan the previous night because of his concern about the lack of leadership in the town. He had liked Snow and James well enough, and knew that his son and daughter-in-law thought very highly over them. But while he may have liked James, he had been dismayed by David's actions these past few weeks.

Working with Rumpelstiltskin? Had David forgotten what the Dark One had done to Thomas?

Allowing the Evil Queen to wander around freely? Were the lives she had destroyed so inconsequential to him?

Despite all that, Charles hadn't given much thought to ruling his own subjects. He recognized that this wasn't his kingdom and that matters were far more complicated here. With several kingdoms all forced into one town, and that town located in a land that had its own very distinct set of laws, who was in charge? Where did the power lie, and how did they draw the lines between the different groups of people here?

The only person who had any real right to authority was Emma Swan because she had been elected Sheriff by the town, even though they had all been their cursed selves when they'd elected her.

But Sheriff Swan wasn't here.

And ruling wasn't merely a right passed from parent to child: it was an obligation, a duty.

"I see," the woman said, lifting her bag of groceries and rising to her feet. "But King Stefan and Queen Leah do not know Sir Maurice, and… well, I think that if… if I were the one who had been killed, I would want it to be my king who was pursuing justice. You were always known for being fair and just and… and looked out for your subjects as best you could. Even after their death."

"Matters are complicated," Charles replied, climbing to his feet as well.

"Of course, your Majesty," the woman murmured, lowering her eyes. "Forgive me, it isn't my place to question your judgment."

No, Charles agreed silently, it wasn't her place to question his judgment. But lately his judgment had needed questioning, and he would be a fool to ignore his unease now.

He gave her another look, this time searching for some familiarity. But he did not recognize her at all. "Tell me, who were you before the curse?"

"No one. Just a man's wife, and then his widow."

"And your family? Your father? Who was he?"

The woman smiled, but their was no fondness in her eyes. "He was a miller," she replied.

Ruby had no visitors for the rest of the day. She knew they wouldn't let her grandmother visit her, but she had expected King Stefan to return, or perhaps one of his loyal servants. She wouldn't have even been surprised if King George had somehow slipped into the station to gloat. But she was left alone with nothing but silence and her own anger.

She desperately needed to talk to someone, even if it was only to yell at them. Being alone with her thoughts – with her unanswered questions and the uncertainty of this trial she would face – was driving her mad. She paced restlessly back and forth across the cell, slowly clenching and unclenching her fists.

Even a visit from Regina would have been preferable to this. The Evil Queen had to know of her predicament by now.

"Please," she whispered into the air, even though she knew there was no one to hear her, "send me someone. It doesn't matter who. Anyone is better than this."

And then, after the sun had set and night had fallen, the door to the station opened and a figure stepped through, and Ruby realized that there was in fact one person whose presence was not preferable to the solitude.

"Belle," she choked out.

The brunette came forward. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were rimmed with red from all the tears she had cried.

"Ruby," she said softly, hoarsely, searching the werewolf's face for something. "Please… just tell me why."

"Why?" Ruby repeated, the word heavy on her tongue. She had hoped against all hope that Belle would somehow just know that she hadn't done this, but that quiet question had shattered whatever illusion of friendship they'd had.

It was there, written plainly in every line of Belle's face. The girl believed that Ruby had killed her father.

"I didn't do it," Ruby snarled, her temper flaring. "Belle, I would never kill someone like. How could you think that of me?"

"It was your knife," Belle answered, her voice shaking. "Your fingerprints on the weapon."

"My… my knife…?" Ruby stammered. King Stefan had not seen fit to share the details of the evidence against her, so she had no idea about this knife.

"You had means, opportunity… and motive," Belle said, "and it was your knife. I don't want to believe, but... how can you deny it?"

Ruby grasped the bars tightly, holding on until the blood drained from her fingers and her knuckles turned white. "Belle, I swear to you that I didn't kill your father. I'm being framed, just like I was with Billy."

Belle hesitated, hope filling her gaze as she remembered Billy, but then her expression fell and she said, "The knife was from the diner's kitchen."

"So someone stole it!" Ruby retorted.

"Really?" Belle asked, and this time there was no trace of warmth in her words. Just skepticism. "Does your grandmother usually allow people to wander around her kitchen unsupervised?"

Ruby hesitated. The answers to that was an emphatic no. Granny was so fanatical about her kitchen being off limits that the few times she had hired someone to manage the cash register, those people had all eventually been fired because they had gone into the kitchen without permission. The only two ever allowed in the kitchen without supervision were Granny and Ruby.

Ruby gritted her teeth, then said, "Someone went in without Granny or I noticing."

Belle raised her eyebrows, and Ruby had to concede that that was incredibly unlikely. And each defense she made, each explanation for the evidence against her, seemed to push Belle further and further away. How could she hope to convince anyone of her innocence when her own friend thought she was a murderer?

"Then they broke in when we weren't there!" Ruby protested finally.

"Were there signs of a break in? Was the lock tampered with? Were things moved around?" Belle shot back, and it was clear by the frustration and the hurt in her tone that those questions had already been answered by the investigators, and they had been answered in the negative.

The only two people who had had access to the murder weapon were Granny and Ruby.

As far as frame-up jobs went, this was a very good one.

"Was it because of the things he said about you?" Belle asked, coming closer to the cell. "Was it because of what he said to me? Were you trying to protect me?" She was pleading then, and Ruby could tell how much Belle wanted her to say something that would make this… well, if not alright, then at least more bearable.

"I'm not the only one who had a problem with your father," Ruby growled furiously. Belle's beliefs felt like a betrayal, and that betrayal was eating away at her. But there was also resignation underneath it all. Snow was the only one who had simply accepted who she was without question, and very few people were like Snow. Perhaps it had been inevitable that Belle would turn on her, too.

"But it wasn't their knife!"

"Maybe Gold did it!" Ruby shot back. "He could have stolen the knife without leaving behind a trace. He has magic."

"He didn't do it! He swore to me he didn't do it."

That was the final straw; that her word was not worth as much as his. "And you believe him, but not me?" Ruby asked scornfully, the unfairness of the whole situation causing her to hit back hard. "How can you be so blind to what he is?"

"I see him for who he is," Belle answered steadily, "and for the man he is trying to be."

"Well, fine then," Ruby cried, throwing her hands into the air. "It wasn't him. He's a perfect saint. He would never use his magic to hurt people…"

And that was when it hit her, and she sank onto her cot in shock. Everything had happened so quickly, and her emotions had been running high. She had let her outrage and her fury consume her, and had not stopped to think about this calmly and rationally. It wasn't until this very moment that the answer became crystal clear.

"Belle," she whispered, "I didn't do it, but I know who did."

Breaking into the sheriff's station was easy with magic, but still an annoying distraction from plotting against Cora in peace.

Regina said as much the moment she appeared in a puff of purple smoke.

Ruby narrowed her eyes. "Well, I would have come to you, but I'm a little trapped right now."

Regina ignored the comment and instead glanced between Ruby and Belle. She could feel the tension in the room, though she didn't know what the cause of it could be. Belle was the one who had called her to explain the situation and pass along Ruby's request that they meet at the station, so clearly both were on the same side in this matter. And yet neither could look the other in the eye.

A disagreement of some sort had caused this; that, at least, was obvious.

Ruby cleared her throat to grab back Regina's attention, then gestured towards the lock on her cell. "I don't suppose you want to do something about that?" she asked.

Regina studied the cell, then sighed and said, "No, I don't." Ruby was momentarily speechless, clearly not expecting that answer, and Regina continued, "I see Stefan and Leah had the foresight to actually rebuild the sheriff's station after my little run in with the wraith. It's a pity David didn't think of that or you might have actually had the option of locking up dear King George."

"If Ruby really is innocent, why can't you let her go?" Belle asked. "You have the power."

There was a slight inflection on the word innocent, a clue to the puzzle before her. Regina felt a smile pull across her features as she realized that Belle had most likely initially come here believing Ruby to be guilty, and Ruby was unwilling to completely forgive her for it.

And Belle, Regina guessed, was bitter that Ruby would hold this against her when the case against Ruby was apparently so strong. Belle probably hadn't wanted to believe that Ruby was guilty, but as the evidence continued to pile up, it would have been harder and harder to discount it.

Two friends, both supposedly on the same side, and yet the seed of bitterness and discontent had already been sewn.

Regian could see her mother's handiwork in this, too.

"I have magic," Regina replied to Belle, "I will concede that point."

"And you won't use it?" Belle asked.

She had never really understood Rumpelstilskin's fascination with the girl. As far as she was concerned, Belle was sweet enough, and loyal to a fault, but lacked anything that could be considered a remotely interesting characteristic. There had to be something there – some fire, some passion – or else how could she have captured the love of the Dark One?

And yet what was this elusive quality? She seemed as dull as a mouse.

But even after being locked first in a tower and later in a mental hospital, Belle still met her gaze without flinching. That was something, Regina supposed.

She turned back towards Ruby. "This seems like something Leah would do," she said, as though Belle had not interrupted. "She must have had the foresight to order the cell fixed the moment they found Mr. French's body this morning, knowing that they would soon need it to lock up a suspect."

"So Leah has wonderful foresight," Ruby drawled. "Why exactly is that preventing you from letting me out?"

Regina smiled coolly. "It's been," she glanced at the clock, "twelve hours since the murder, but I'm not the only one with magic on my side. And Leah is smart. Smarter than most of your daft rulers." She walked over to the lock on the cell door and tapped on it once, and the metal immediately glowed blue.

Ruby jumped back from the bars in surprise. "What is that?" she breathed.

"Magic. Specifically meant to keep this lock from being tampered with." Regina tilted her head to the side. "It is clear that Stefan or Leah – or someone else with influence – was worried that I might try to break you out of prison. And they've thought of everything. I recognize that magic. I've felt it before."

"The magic we used to imprison you," Ruby whispered.

"Yes," Regina answered. "It seems Leah and Stefan have convinced the Blue Fairy to join their cause." Her smile was positively glacial as she said, "Of course, I have no doubt that Blue thinks she is doing the right thing. Locking up a murderer… who could blame her for trying to keep the town safe? I doubt she knew that the murderer would be you."

Ruby flinched, clearly upset both at the idea that she was trapped by an ally's magic and at the bitterness in Regina's voice when she spoke of the Blue Fairy.

"We should have told her about your mother," Ruby said.

Regina shook her head. "No," she said immediately. "She will insist on working with us."

"And that's a bad thing?" Ruby demanded.

"Yes," Regina replied, and refused to elaborate.

The Blue Fairy and Cora had a history, and not a pleasant one. But although that made the two of them enemies, and thus Regina and the fairy natural allies, the one-time mayor and Evil Queen was not about to put her faith in fairy magic. She didn't like or trust the fairies, and that was not going to change just because they were supposedly united against a common enemy.

Besides, Blue probably already knew, or would know soon. Leroy had been quite transparent in his concern for the fairies – or, rather, for one fairy in particular. He would warn Sister Astrid of the danger, and she would in turn tell Mother Superior. And the fairy would have her own ideas and her own plans.

Regina sighed.

Sooner or later Blue would come for her, and Regina was not looking forward to that conversation.

She laughed suddenly, the absurdity of the situation and the irony of what her mother had done not lost on her.

"What?" Belle asked sharply.

Regina gave her a disinterested look, then said to Ruby, "My mother has been here for a little over two days, and already she has managed to stir up trouble in the town, turn my most powerful ally against me, and imprison you. The only useful ally she has left me is a fairy I hate."

"So we fight her," Ruby said insistently.

"We do. And I wonder how much good it will do." Regina leaned forward and said with a gleam in her eyes, "I will bet you anything, Miss Lucas, that in another two days, this town will have gone up in flames."

Ruby didn't seem to have an answer to that, and so Belle broke the tense silence by asking, "Who is your most powerful ally?"

Regina just stared at her pointedly.

"Rumple wouldn't just do nothing with Cora here…" Belle started defensively.

Ruby rolled her eyes at that, and Belle's expression hardened. Somewhere, Regina thought to herself, Cora was laughing.

"Save me your speeches about his good heart," Regina murmured, carelessly waving aside Belle's words. "He loves you, I will give him that. But he will happily let this town burn if it means keeping you safe. And no doubt that is exactly what my mother convinced him to do."

"How do you know?" Ruby asked, drawing Regina's attention back to her for a moment.

Because that is what I would do for Henry.

The words were on her lips, but she didn't say them. Instead, she looked at Belle and said disparagingly, "Run along, dear. Your beloved Rumple has paid a high price for your life. I'd hate for that to go to waste."

"Cora killed my father," Belle argued. "I want to help stop her, and if everything everyone says about her is true, you're going to need all the help you can get."

Regina didn't bother answering that – they both knew it was true.

"So what now?" Belle asked, refusing to quail under Regina's sharp glare. "Do we tell everyone about your mother?"

"Do you think they will care?" Regina retorted. "Do you think they will believe us? Miss Lucas is the supposed murderer, you are the grieving daughter in love with the Dark One, an I am the Evil Queen. We are hardly the most trustworthy in their eyes." She looked at Ruby. "No, we are on our own for now. Until we can actually prove how dangerous Cora is, they will not help us."

"And I won't be any help to you locked up here," Ruby pointed out.

Regina considered this, then shrugged. "You weren't much help before you were locked up, either," she said bluntly. "All I need is a sitter for Henry, and your grandmother can do that well enough."

Ruby bristled at the implication that she was useless, but before she could say anything, Belle said, "I'll talk to Rumple. I can get him to help free Ruby and stop Cora. I know I can."

Regina just gave her a disbelieving look.

Belle jutted out her chin and said defiantly, "You underestimate how much he loves me."

"No," Regina said softly, "I don't. And that is why I know he won't help me."

Much later, after the moon had begun to set and the new day had just started, Regina found herself standing on the doorstep of the home belonging to someone she had hoped she would never see again. She stood in silence for a long time, unable to move forward and knock, and yet unable to walk away either. This was about protecting Henry, she knew, and for him, she could do this.

She hoped.

Slowly, painfully, she lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles on the door.

It swung open a few minutes later. The man standing there was wearing only boxers, and his hair was mussed up as though he had just been roused from sleep. But there was an alertness in his eyes that told Regina he had been up for quite some time.

"Regina," he said, and he didn't sound the least bit surprised to see her.

He was much older than her, and the lines on his face had deepened while his black hair was streaked with gray. But it wasn't his physical age that seemed to hang over him, but rather something else, something mental and emotion that dragged him down.

A lifetime of loss, of pain.

"We had an… understanding," he said. "Did that change?"

Regina studied him. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked, ignoring his question.

He returned her searching look with one of his own. "Not since the curse broke. Memories I'd rather forget keep slipping into my dreams." His words became hard, caustic. "I didn't realize you cared."

"I don't," Regina said, "but I am about to tell you something that will make your nightmares so much worse."

"Are you?" he asked skeptically.

"My mother is here, in Storybrooke."

The man froze.

"And I am here, asking you for help, because you are the only person in this town besides Rumplestilskin and myself who can truly appreciate just what this means for us."

He nodded slowly. "I suppose I am," he said in a whisper.

"May I come in, Uncle?" Regina asked.

Her uncle nodded wordlessly and stepped aside, allowing her into his house.