Chapter Nineteen: Missing
The brief conversation with Archie still echoed in Regina's mind the next morning as she watched Henry push his spoon back and forth through his cereal. She could tell he was bored, and could hardly blame him for that – he was far too inquisitive a boy to be content trapped inside his home.
But she'd rather him bored than dead.
She was a little surprised that Mary Margaret and David hadn't insisted on taking Henry back now that they were both awake and in Storybrooke. She hadn't offered them the safety of her home and they hadn't asked, and some of her fears of losing Henry to them had abated slightly.
But only slightly. She knew the dangers of letting her guard down around either of them, and she doubted that she would ever be able to watch Henry interact with them without feeling that sudden flaring of fear that she would be left alone again.
Besides, perhaps the only reason Mary Margaret and David had allowed her to keep Henry for the previous night was because they wanted some alone time together. Last night would have been their first real chance to be in each other's company since Mary Margaret's unexpected return to the Enchanted Forest, and she had a pretty good idea how they had wanted to spend their time.
She sighed and looked down at the cup of coffee in her hands.
Last night Henry had peppered her with questions when she returned to the mansion, but when he realized that she still didn't know exactly how to rescue Emma, he had lapsed into a sullen silence. She had taken it as a reaction against her, but now as she thought of Archie's words again, she couldn't help but wonder…
"Henry," she started, and when he looked up at her she realized that she had no idea how to even broach the subject.
She set her cup of coffee down on the counter and took the seat across from him at the kitchen table.
"What happened at the well, with my mother…" Regina trailed off uncertainly, then said, "It wasn't your fault."
Henry stared at her. "Okay," he said simply, and the amount of disbelief he managed to fit into that single word nearly took Regina's breath away.
How had she not noticed before how much this was hurting him? Why had it taken a bug to point that out to her?
"Cora is powerful," Regina continued, the words coming out awkwardly. "She would have found a way back to Storybrooke no matter what." She hesitated, casting about for something else to say, and finally managed, "The magic Mr. Gold and I used on the portal probably would not have been enough to stop her."
That was a complete lie, and both she and Henry knew it. But she didn't know what to do but lie. How could she convince Henry that this wasn't his fault when the facts said otherwise?
Henry scraped at the bottom of the bowl with the edge of his spoon, and they both sat in silence for a moment, listening to the sound.
His cereal had turned to mush.
"You were trying to help Miss Swan and Miss Blanchard," Regina continued desperately. "That's not… wrong. It was very… good of you… to want them to come back safely."
The words sounded trite and pathetic even to her own ears.
"You couldn't have known that it was my mother who would come through. None of us could, not really," Regina said. She forced a strained smile to her lips and added, "Good does win – a lot."
That, at least, was true.
Henry dropped his spoon. "You knew," he said bluntly, not meeting her gaze. He pressed his hands flat against the table and stood up. His voice shook. "You and Mr. Gold knew that… that Cora was going to come through."
"No – we guessed it. But we didn't… we didn't know," Regina protested. Henry merely continued to stare at her, so she added weakly, "It wasn't your fault."
"Can I go to Granny's diner today?" Henry asked abruptly.
Regina blinked, surprised by the turn of the conversation, and then nodded. "Yes, of course, dear," she answered automatically.
Henry gave her a stiff smile that did not reach his eyes and bolted from the room, and Regina buried her head in her hands and tried to figure out how she was supposed to talk to her son.
"I was wondering when you would show up," Cora said lazily as Hook came storming into the small house. She looked up from her seat on an overstuffed armchair, and added, "I'm impressed, though. I thought it would take you longer to find me."
Hook didn't answer her remark, but instead looked around the house in open curiosity. "Who lives here?" he asked suspiciously.
"Don't worry, my dear Captain," Cora replied, laughing inwardly at his distrust, "I don't have any allies in Storybrooke that I concealed from you in all our planning. I merely… acquired this house from its previous owner."
She glanced idly at the fishbowl sitting on the coffee table, at the goldfish swimming around inside it.
Hook followed her gaze. "You turned him into a fish?"
"Her, actually," Cora replied, rising to her feet and smoothing out the creases in her skirt. "One of Snow's peasant friends. Not that I knew that at the time, of course – it was merely an added bonus." She stepped around the table and approached him. "I chose this house for the location. Close enough to the center of town to be in the thick of things, and yet far enough away to be unnoticed by most passing by."
Hook didn't comment on that, but instead gestured to her outfit. "You changed."
"Yes. A gown did not seem appropriate for blending in, though if Stefan and Leah have there way, that might change." She touched the rough fabric of her skirt, and frowned. "I'm not quite sure how I feel about the fashions in this land. However, I will admit that getting dressed is much easier here. I often wondered how the poor fools at home managed the more complicated fashions without magic."
Hook folded his arms over his chest, unimpressed by her musings.
"You abandoned me," he accused, seething. "I helped you – I brought you the princess' heart that allowed you to trap Snow and her daughter into the Dark One's cell, fought them for you when they escaped, and you left me."
"I did," Cora agreed unapologetically. "And what of it? I had my own plans to keep, and you were... indisposed."
Hook practically growled at her, "We were supposed to be working together. We were supposed to come to Storybrooke together."
"And now you are here and I am here, and we are both in Storybrooke. Together," Cora countered, mocking. A smile curved her lips - she was taking great pleasure in watching the myriad of emotions that played across Hook's face at her refusal to apologize for abandoning him.
"No thanks to you," Hook hissed. "That storm was your doing, wasn't it? You tried to keep me from getting to that portal – and you destroyed my ship."
Cora gave him an indulgent look, the type one would bestow upon a child throwing a temper tantrum, and replied, "If you're a good little boy, I'll buy you a new one."
The pirate captain reacted to the insulting tone predictably, and lunged forward with his hook raised. Cora disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, and he was left clawing at thin air.
She reappeared on the other side of the room.
"You need some patience," she said softly, "or you will never get anything done. Do you really think you can defeat Rumpelstiltskin if you act so rashly?"
"I don't need your advice, or your help!" Hook snapped back.
Cora raised an eyebrow at that statement. "Then why are you here?" she asked.
He faltered for a moment, then dropped his arm to his side. After a slightly longer pause in which he forced himself to regain control over his temper, he said "I heard a rumor that you made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin." Cora said nothing, merely waited, and so he demanded, "Is that true?"
"Yes," she answered.
Hook took a backwards step away from her, shaking his head in disgust. "You're just as bad as Regina," he said with loathing. "Promising revenge and yet not really meaning it."
"Oh, don't act so wounded," Cora retorted. "It isn't as though you've never double-crossed anyone, pirate." She walked across the room and resumed her seat on the armchair, and said, "Rumple can be dealt with in time, but I need him out of the way for right now. Let him worry about his plans while I complete mine. Once I have my revenge and Regina by my side, then we can deal with your crocodile."
"I'm not waiting," Hook spat. "I know enough to hurt the Dark One all on my own – I don't need your help."
Cora lifted one eyebrow skeptically. "Is that so?" she questioned. "Well, then… by all means, proceed. But when all your plans come crashing down…" She trailed off with a smug smile and a shrug. "Don't say I did not warn you."
Hook ignored her final warning and marched from the house, his steps loud and angry as he slammed his feet against the floor, his body shaking with rage.
Cora let him leave.
He would fail, she was sure of that. He was a fool to think he could defeat the Dark One on his own, and whatever it was he thought he had learned, it wouldn't be enough. And after he had failed, he would come back to her, desperate for her help. And he would be a useful chess piece to have in this game.
Particularly given that he – and all the other poor fools in this town – had no idea what her end game even was.
"Get this off of me," Belle demanded, gripping the necklace tightly as she strode into the pawn shop.
Gold looked up in surprise at her entrance, but then his expression hardened as realization flickered over his features.
"Yes," Belle pressed, her tone glacial as she correctly interpreted the look on his face, "I know what it is. I know what you did to it – to me. And I don't want it, so take it off."
"I didn't do anything to you, Belle," Gold protested, setting down the object he was holding and reaching for his came. He came around the counter and moved towards her, but Belle took a step backwards and so he stopped.
"You used magic on me!" she said angrily.
"I used magic on the necklace," Gold replied quickly. "Not on you, never on you."
The memory of her father had done lingered in the air between them, and they were both silent for a moment, staring at each other.
"Semantics," Belle said finally, dismissing the distinction carelessly. She gazed at him, searching his expression for some sign of remorse, something to show that he regretted taking away her freedom like this. She wanted to believe that he was not this selfish, that he could accept he did not have the right to make her decisions for her.
But there was nothing there, nothing but a carefully blank expression, and that angered her more than the revelation about the necklace had.
"After what my father did, how can you do this to me, too?" she questioned hoarsely, still clutching the necklace.
"I'm not… I didn't…" Gold was momentarily at a loss for words, and then he said almost desperately, but with a hint of impatience in his tone, "I am trying to keep you safe."
"Yes," Belle agreed with a dark laugh, "just like my father did when he tried to force me over the town line."
"This isn't the same thing," Gold argued angrily.
"You're right," Belle agreed, "it isn't. Because I thought you had changed. My father – well, I knew what he was, what he had always been. He tried to make decisions for me when I was younger, to protect me, and when I left with you…" She sighed and dropped her hand from the necklace, her anger seeping away, replaced now with disappointment. "What he tried to do to me hurt, but it shouldn't have come as a surprise. He didn't change, couldn't change. But I thought you had."
"Belle…"
"I don't want this," Belle said quietly. "And I can't…"
She stopped, struggling to come up with the words. All her emotions towards her father were complicated now – his death had made it hard to think clearly. She hated what he had nearly done to her, but he was her father and he was dead, and her last words to him had been an argument. She would have given anything to be able to take that back, to have one last chance to talk to him, to make him understand that, despite everything, she still loved him.
And yet.
She could not think of that brief cart ride in the mines without a rush of fury and fear nearly overwhelming her. So much of her life had been controlled by other people – her arranged marriage to Gaston, her forced servitude to Rumple, her confinement first in Regina's tower and then later in the hospital… To have finally found herself and her own free will once more, and then have her father try to erase all of it?
What Rumple was doing now wasn't the same thing – but it was close enough.
"I can't believe," she said finally, "that after everything, you would do this to me."
"Do what?" Gold snapped back, his irritation finally overpowering his desire to reason with her. His face contorted with frustration and anger as he ground out the words, "All I am trying to do is keep you safe, yet you act as though I have done something horrible. Why can't you just accept the protection?"
"Because I didn't ask for it! You forced it on me," Belle retorted irately, her own frustrating mounting at his inability to understand her feelings on the subject. "How can you not see that what you did was wrong?"
"All I see is you standing in front of me telling me that you want to die!"
The words echoed in the room, and underneath Gold's anger, Belle saw the fear. Real fear - unlike anything she had ever seen from him before. It was quick, a fleeting look in his eyes, a shaking in his voice, and then it was gone. But she had seen it.
And it didn't make any difference.
"I want to fight," Belle said, refusing to be put off, "and I want you to fight, too."
Gold shook his head. "Cora will kill you," he said. "Don't you understand that?"
She frowned. She'd been underestimated before, but she'd proven that her wits and her courage were stronger than others gave her credit for.
"I know the danger…"
"No," Gold interrupted, an edge to his voice. He turned away from her dismissively and said, "You don't understand. You pretend you do – all of you. But none of you have any idea what Cora is capable of. Not even Regina."
"Then explain it to us," Belle begged. "Come talk to Mary Margaret and David. Help them."
"I have my own work to do," Gold replied, still not facing her. He walked back to the counter and started sorting through the objects there. "I have to figure out a way to cross the town border. I have to find my son. Both of those tasks will require time and effort."
"And then what?" Belle questioned, her heart slowly sinking at the realization that she wasn't going to get through to him, she wasn't going to change his mind. "When you have your son, but Storybrooke is in ashes? When Cora has destroyed the rest of us? Then what?"
"She won't destroy me, or Baelfire, or you," Gold answered, "and that is enough."
"If you loved me, you wouldn't do this," Belle said, her final plea for him to listen to her.
He turned around and unflinchingly met her gaze. "It is because I love you that I have to do this."
They were both quiet for a moment, neither willing to break the standoff that had occurred. But Belle could see by the look of determination in Gold's eyes that she had lost the argument. He would never be swayed.
The necklace felt heavy against her throat.
She thought back to that day so long ago when he had tossed her out of his dungeon, thrown her out into the world and insisted that he didn't love her – or, rather, that he loved his magic more. She hadn't believed it them, and she didn't believe it now, but her response to him…
Now you've made your choice. And you're going to regret it. Forever. And all you'll have is an empty heart... and a chipped cup.
That, it seemed, was still true.
"Then you've made your decision," she said softly, her words final, "and I will never forgive you for it."
Granny watched as Henry flipped through the pages of his fairytale book. She was a little surprised that Regina had dropped him off here – didn't he want to be with Mary Margaret and David? – but she didn't question it. Instead, she had served up hot chocolate and cinnamon and done the best to ignore the way his eyes glazed over and then filled with tears at the reminder of Emma.
His separation from the blonde was heartbreaking on its own, but for Granny, it also served as a reminder of her own torn-asunder family.
She still hadn't been permitted to see Ruby. Her last entreaty had gone to King Charles, who had at least been much more sympathetic to her than Queen Leah or King Stefan. But he had refused her request as well, explaining that the prisoner wasn't allowed any visitors.
Hearing Ruby referred to as the prisoner had made her nearly apoplectic with rage, but her anger did not help her gain access to her granddaughter.
She bustled around the diner, trying to keep herself busy enough to prevent her thoughts from running down a dark path. And yet she could not help but think of Ruby, alone and scared, locked in a cell. Weren't there laws against this? Didn't Ruby get to demand bail or something similar?
But no - those were laws of this land, and nobody seemed to be playing by those rules anymore.
The door to the diner swung open, and Regina entered. Granny gave her a curt nod and watched as Regina ignored her and everyone else and focused solely on Henry. He looked up at her as she approached, and she gave him a smile.
She vehemently disliked and distrusted Regina. It was hard not to, given the amount of pain and suffering the Evil Queen had caused. But it was equally hard to overlook the fact that, if the Evil Queen had not been capable of love, at least Regina was. She might not be any good at it, but she did love Henry.
Granny turned away from the scene and wandered back into her kitchen.
She'd been avoiding spending unnecessary time in the room. It was challenging, of course, because she ran a diner and had to cook the food people ordered, but while in the past she would linger each night to make sure everything in the kitchen was beyond spotless, now she stayed just long enough to ensure that nothing was growing bacteria before closing for the night.
And she studiously avoided the knives with the crescent moons on the handle.
She should not have invited that knight of the Blue Guard into the kitchen. If she hadn't, he never would have seen the knives, and…
And what?
If, as everyone she trusted seemed to believe, Cora was indeed behind Moe French's death, she would have found a way to frame Ruby no matter what. Whether or not that knight had seen the knives would have made no difference.
Granny slammed a hand onto the counter, ignoring the sting on her skin where she made contact with the cool metal.
"Why?" she hissed at the ceiling, wishing Cora was there to hear the furious words. "What did my Ruby ever do to you?"
There was no reply.
She stalked out of the kitchen.
In the diner, Regina was still sitting with Henry. Granny watched them, noting the way Regina leaned forward to peer at Henry's book as they talked.
Maybe Regina would help her break into the sheriff's station. The Mother Superior had been hesitant, concerned that Stefan and Leah would see her actions as a sign she was working against them, and Granny could at least appreciate the concern, even if it irritated her. But what did Regina stand to lose? It wasn't like any of the rulers trusted her anyway, so her actions would hardly disrupt the tentative peace.
And given how frequently Granny had babysat Henry the past couple days, Regina did owe her.
She took a step towards the mother and son.
And stopped.
She wasn't sure what it was, but some sixth sense, something left over from the wolf, made her hesitate. She turned and looked around the diner, scanning everything and everyone quickly, intently. Nothing was out of place, none of the patrons looked like they were going to cause any trouble, and yet…
She closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath, inhaling through her nose.
Some scent was just... wrong.
When Regina had dropped Henry off, she had mentioned that she going to meet Sidney. That had been a little over an hour ago. Wouldn't discussing and debating complicated magic require more than an hour?
Granny had acknowledged Regina when she had entered the diner, but the former mayor had not acknowledged her in return… and Regina had always given her either a polite nod or a frosty glare in the past.
Granny opened her eyes and surreptitiously studied Regina. She was leaning forward, encroaching on Henry's personal space, and something about the way she regarded the boy, something about her body language...
Something was wrong.
She walked forward determinedly, arranging her face into what she hoped was a politely distant smile, the one that she often used when avoiding a confrontation. Henry looked up as she approached and gave her a warm smile, warmer than any he had bestowed on Regina, and Granny smiled in return. But Regina gave her a cool once-over and Granny felt a shiver run down her spine.
Maybe she was paranoid. Maybe she just really didn't like Regina.
Either way, at that moment, she knew she had to get Henry away from this woman.
"Henry, I've got something for you," she said, the lie rolling easily off her tongue, "in the kitchen. A special treat I made. Would you like to come back and get it?"
Henry perked up immediately. "What is it?" he asked eagerly, sliding out of the booth and rising to his feet. His brow furrowed, then he said, "Wait, you're letting me into the kitchen? But only you and Ruby are allowed back there!"
She gave him a fond smile and gentle push towards the swinging door to the kitchen. "Go on," she said, and as Henry scurried away, she turned back to Regina and added, "Don't worry, it won't ruin his appetite for lunch."Regina gave her a cool look and a distracted bit back the frown that was starting to form.
Where was the cold remark, the comment about indulging children or the dangers of sugar and fat, the sharp retort and quick insult?
She turned away from Regina and followed Henry into the kitchen. As she did so, she noticed Archie sitting at the counter reading a newspaper, and she paused at his side and caught his attention with a light tap on the arm.
"I need you to call Regina," she said in a low voice.
Archie responded with a puzzled look and jerked his head towards Regina still sitting in the booth, now flipping through the pages of Henry's book. "She's right there," he said.
"Yes," Granny murmured, more to herself than to Archie, "I really hope she is."
She didn't say any more, and Archie was still clearly puzzled by all of this, but he did not ask any other questions. He pulled his phone from his pocket and started punching numbers into it while at the same time following her into the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Henry was looking around eagerly, and Granny felt a twinge of guilt that she didn't have anything to offer him. But before he could question the absence of his supposed treat, before she could come up with anything to say to him, before she could even figure out how to put her suspicions into words, she heard Archie speaking.
"Regina? It's Dr. Hopper. Where are you?"
Henry and Granny both turned to listen to the phone conversation.
Whatever Regina had said in reply had given Archie considerable concern, and he turned wide eyes towards Granny. "You're here, too. At the diner." He paused, listening to the answer, then said, "No, no… no. You were just sitting there with Henry and…"
The rest of his sentence was halted by the sudden appearance of purple smoke that filled the kitchen and coalesced into the form of one very worried woman.
"What do you mean? How am I here with Henry? Where is Henry?" Regina demanded brusquely.
"Mom?"
Henry stepped around Granny and looked up at his mother in complete shock. "But... you were just outside. At the booth. We were talking..." And he started towards her.
Granny caught his arm and pulled him back, hugging him to her side and ignoring the way he looked at her in surprise and confusion. She had no idea what was going on, but until she had some answers, she was not going to let Henry go to anyone.To Regina, she asked, "How do we know that you are the real Regina and not the imposter?"
Regina responded with a look of such utter disdain that it immediately removed any doubts the older woman might have had. Aloud, Regina said, "The bug called me, remember?" And to prove her point, she held up her phone.
"I don't... but if you are here..." Henry started, bewildered.
"Who is out there?" Archie finished, gesturing towards the wall that separated them from the rest of the diner.
"Cora?" was Granny's suggestion, and judging by the way Archie nodded slowly and Regina's expression hardened, she knew they both agreed with her. It was the only possibility that made any sense - and it was what Regina had been so terrified of all along.
Granny let go of Henry, and Regina immediately engulfed him a tight embrace. He squirmed slightly in her grasp, but hugged her back, and as Regina pressed a kiss into his hair, Granny heard her murmur, "Thank God," underneath her breath.
Then Regina straightened and whirled around to face Granny and Archie, a look of utter fury on her features."How could you let Cora near my son?" she accused. "Your job - the only thing I asked from you - was to keep him safely away from her!"
"We didn't know," Archie said, taking a deliberate step to position himself in between Regina and Granny. He held his hands out in a placating manner, and continued soothingly, "She looked just like you. But as soon as Granny even suspected, she removed Henry from the situation."
Regina should have been grateful for that, Granny thought bitterly, because it was only her wolf-sense and quick thinking that had brought Henry to safety.
Regina continued to glare, clearly not in any way mollified, then looked down at Henry. "That's it," she said, her words clipped, her tone allowing no argument, "we're going home. You're staying indoors today."
"But Mom," Henry whined, "there's nothing to do inside but read and..." He stopped abruptly, mouth falling open. "My book!" he exclaimed, pulling out of Regina's grasp. "I left it out there, with Cora."
And before anyone could stop him, he'd rushed out of the kitchen and into the diner.
Regina and Granny were both directly behind him, and before he could take more than a few steps into the diner, Regina had caught his shoulders and pulled him backwards, towards her.
Granny only spared a brief glance for Regina - noting the frantic look on the woman's features as she held tightly to her son - before turning towards the booth where she expected Cora to be.
But the booth was empty.
Archie came to Granny's side, and the two of them looked around the diner, ignoring the confused glances they were getting from the other patrons. Granny knew they made a strange sight, all four of them having rushed out of the kitchen together and now standing frozen in front of the still swinging kitchen door. But that didn't matter at the moment, and she didn't bother answering anyone's questioning gaze, instead focusing her energy on hunting out any sign of Cora's presence.
But Cora was not in the diner.
And neither was Henry's book.
"I think we should schedule the trial for as soon as possible," Charles said as he and Leah walked along the sidewalk from their respective cars to the sheriff's station. "The sooner we deal with this murder, the safer everyone will feel. And once people feel safe again, it will be easier to convince them to make whatever changes are necessary."
"We still haven't decided what we are going to do," Leah cautioned, though she nodded in agreement with Charles' assessment.
"I know – and I know that you and I disagree on what is best to be done," Charles answered reasonably. He favored her with a wry smile, and pointed out in a slightly amused tone, "But we agree on the need to try Miss Lucas for the murder of Moe French, so perhaps we should focus on that?"
Leah returned his smile and nodded. "Very well." she said. "It will be good to have this matter disposed of." She hesitated, then added, "Perhaps then we will be able to form better alliances with Snow and James. Once they can no longer doubt Miss Lucas' guilt, they will be more likely to listen to reason."
Charles grimaced. "I hope so," he said, but his words showed his doubt.
Leah felt the same way. She did hope that Snow would see reason soon enough, but the young woman had always been blind to the faults of her allies, subscribing to some ridiculous belief about the power of goodness and love and other trite things. After all, who in their right mind would befriend a werewolf?
Leah heaved a sigh. She did believe in the power of Good, she had to admit to that. But she also believed that heroes were heroes and monsters were monsters, and the lines separating one from the other were fairly distinct.
Perhaps it was a youthful indiscretion, and Snow would grow out of it in time. Or perhaps not. Maybe there something wrong with the younger generation of rulers. Maybe they all lacked common sense.
After all, who chose to marry a mermaid, even if that mermaid had decided to become human? Family celebrations must be very complicated.
She pushed open the door to the sheriff station and stepped inside, Charles following her.
"Once the matter is settled," she said grimly, "it will become clearer how we must deal with Snow and James. Of that, at least, I am sure."
Charles slanted a worried look at her and she knew he was concerned. He did not see things in quite as black and white terms as she did, perhaps because of his son and daughter-in-law's close relationship with Snow and James. He still tried to see the good in them, tried to believe the best of them. He was too easily swayed, too weak. He needed to take a firm stance on the issue, and he needed to do it quickly, or how could she ever trust him to run the murder trial?
"Leah," Charles said suddenly, catching her arm and bringing her abruptly from her thoughts.
She looked up at him in surprise, and then followed his gaze and inhaled sharply. The inside of the sheriff's station was untouched as it had been the night before, but with one major change.
Ruby Lucas' cell was empty.