Chapter Twenty-Two: And You Can't Go Back
"Does it hurt?"
Regina started and whirled around from her position leaning against the kitchen counter. She'd been resting her head in one hand, her eyes closed to shut out the growing migraine, and had not heard the sound of footsteps on the floor behind her.
Henry was gazing at her with a worried look in his eyes.
Regina plastered a brittle smile to her features. "Does what hurt, dear?" she asked, and even though she tried to keep her tone normal, her voice shook slightly.
"Whatever you're doing with the mirrors," Henry said, frowning. "Does it hurt?"
"Of course not," Regina lied. "Why would you think that?"
Henry pursed his lips in an expression of skepticism, and it was so incredibly Regina that the woman in question blinked in stunned surprise. Growing up, Henry had echoed her mannerisms in many ways, but as the distance between them had grown, that had faded, and in this past year, she'd seen Emma in him.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"It is tiring," she said a bit reluctantly. "Complicated magic is always a little…" she trailed off for a moment, searching for the right words, "it takes an emotional toll. And magic here is different. Unpredictable."
Henry nodded. "Do you think you will be able to find Emma?"
"I told you…" Regina started, but Henry cut her off.
"I know what you told me, and what you told Mary Margaret and David," he said impatiently. "That it might. That it is our best chance, Emma's best chance. But I want to know what you think – what you believe."
Regina studied Henry for a long moment. For a boy who had always put so much faith in his black and white notions of good and evil, the question was surprising. After all, who would care what the Evil Queen believed? Faith never helped evil, only good, and Mary Margaret and David both seemed to have a ridiculous – and naïve – amount of faith in their ability to be reunited with their daughter.
But Henry had changed. Ever since Cora had come through the portal, he'd been doubting, questioning.
She remembered what Archie had said about Henry believing that this was all his fault, that the havoc that would no doubt be visited upon this town could have been prevented if only he hadn't asked Regina to absorb that deadly curse.
If only she hadn't listened.
She was saved having to answer the question by the sound of knocking on the door. She gave Henry an apologetic smile and left the room, left the conversation. The intrusion was certainly welcome in that she didn't know what to say to Henry – didn't really know what she believed – but it was also signaling the end of all privacy, and that was grating.
She yanked the door open, already in a foul mood, and was stopped short by the sight of David standing there alone.
"Is Mary Margaret here?" David demanded.
"No," Regina answered, smirking slightly, "why? Did you lose her already?"
David glared at her and brushed past, scanning the foyer as though expecting his wife to appear.
"Well, it is certainly no wonder you two so frequently have to declare your intention to always find each other," Regina mocked, closing the door lightly and following him into the living room. "You can't seem to keep track of each other for more than a few days at a time."
David shook his head, ignoring her jibe. "She went to speak to Leah, but she didn't come back," he said worriedly. "We were supposed to meet back at her apartment, and when she didn't know up I thought maybe she had come here, but…" He trailed off, looking decidedly worried.
Henry came out of the kitchen. "Mary Margaret is missing?" he asked, askance.
"I'm sure we will find Miss Blanchard," Regina answered dismissively. To David, she added, "Did you try asking Leah what had happened when she last spoke to Miss Blanchard?"
David nodded, eyes dark and angry. "I called her, but she didn't answer her phone. I stopped by her house but she wasn't there, and neither was Stefan. I went to the sheriff's station, but they wouldn't let me in, and I went to town hall, but no one was there." He rubbed at his eyes. "Something's wrong. I can feel it."
Regina considered this for a moment, then said, "Perhaps she got into an argument with Leah and lost track of time? Leah does tend to have that affect on people."
"Mary Margaret didn't answer her phone, didn't call me back," David said firmly. "After everything that has happened, she wouldn't do that. Not if she could help it."
Unfortunately, Regina had to agree with David's assessment.
"You don't think something happened to her?" Henry demanded anxiously, looking between the two adults.
Regina considered Henry's question for a moment, then asked David, "Why did Miss Blanchard decide to visit Leah?"
"Ruby apparently broke out of prison," David replied wearily, running a hand through his hair, "and Leah thinks we're responsible."
Regina raised an eyebrow. "Are you?" she asked.
"What? No!" David answered sharply, glowering at her.
"Don't give me that look, dear," Regina countered coolly. "I've heard you and Miss Blanchard say, on more than one occasion, that you think this is ridiculous, that you will demand Miss Lucas be released, that you would do anything to free her."
David practically growled, "Well, we didn't. We listened to what everyone said about not causing chaos, not starting a war with Stefan and Leah, and now my wife is missing."
"Can you find her, Mom?" Henry asked eagerly.
Regina glanced at him, then sighed. "Possibly," she said, "but I doubt anyone in the town will be willing to speak to me." To David, she asked, "Have you spoken to anyone else? One of the other royals, perhaps?"
"Eric didn't know anything. I couldn't find Charles or Midas, and I haven't asked Thomas and Primrose." David hesitated, then said, "Can you break into the sheriff's station? You know – with magic?"
Regina almost laughed at the request. Belle and Ruby had demanded the same from her once, and she had proven that it was quite easy to do so. But for someone who wanted everyone to believe that he was playing by the rules, David seemed more than happy to break them now that it suited his needs.
Of course, it was his true love that was missing and his daughter that was trapped in another world. In his position, Regina doubted anyone on the side of Good would have actually done anything differently.
Which – from her point of view, at least – merely made them all hypocrites.
She thought about refusing, but all it took was a quick look at the hopeful expression on Henry's face, and Regina found herself nodding and saying with reluctance, "Very well."
Which was how Regina found herself breaking into the sheriff's station for the second time in only a few days.
She had been prepared for it to be empty – abandoned. She had also been prepared to find herself face-to-face with Leah and several other suspicious and trigger-happy royals.
What she had not expected was to find both Ruby and Mary Margaret locked in the magically-reinforced cells.
Mary Margaret jumped to her feet the moment Regina entered. "Regina," she said breathlessly. "Regina, you have to tell David…"
"That you're missing?" Regina interrupted. She glanced around the station. "He's already noticed that, dear." Her eyes landed on Ruby, whose hair was disheveled and whose bare arms and throat showed evidence of bruising. "But I thought you had made a break for it?"
"It's complicated," Ruby grumbled, giving her a brief glare before turning away and stalking back and forth across the space of the cell.
Regina frowned, and a feeling of déjà vu swept over her. She'd been here before, with Mary Margaret trapped in the cell, framed for a crime she did not commit. She'd been gleeful then – maliciously happy to watch the darling Snow White finally pay for her past crimes.
Now, though… now she just felt tired.
"What happened?" she asked, directing the question at Ruby and avoiding looking at Mary Margaret.
"Snow showed up this afternoon," Ruby explained, her tone filled with bewilderment. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and let out a long breath. "She had a key to the cell, and she opened it. She said that we had to leave, that I had to hide because Leah was going to kill me. I thought… I mean, I protested that. I didn't think Leah really would, and with Snow back, I figured that she would be able to convince everyone that I was being framed. I thought running would make me look guilty, but she said that things had changed – that Leah was the one framing me, and that if she tried revealing that to everyone while I was still locked in the cell, Leah or Stefan would kill me. She said Leah had threatened her with that, and she was so frantic, so determined to get me out before she revealed Leah's plan, that I…" She shook her head and gave Mary Margaret a helpless look. "I believed her, and I went with her into the woods to hide there."
Mary Margaret had listened to all of this in silence, and her expression conveyed clearly that she had heard it before and still didn't understand what any of it meant.
Ruby sat down on the metal cot, staring at Mary Margaret apologetically. "If I had known it wasn't you, I never would have gone. And I certainly never would have told Leah…" she trailed off uneasily, not able to finish the sentence, and dropped her gaze to the floor.
"I know," Mary Margaret answered, giving Ruby a forgiving smile. "I know. I understand."
"Well, I don't," Regina snapped, cutting into the gentle moment with a huff of exasperation and a pang of unexpected jealousy for the friendship and trust that was so clearly expressed between the two, "and since I would like to be able to explain to David and my son why you are currently behind bars, could one of you please finish the story?"
Ruby threw her an annoyed look, but though the interruption and Regina's tone might have rankled her, she apparently had enough sense to know that they needed Regina to take a message back to David. She sighed, and continued, "There isn't much more to tell. I hid in the woods for a few hours, and then George found me."
"George?" Regina repeated, eyes widening slightly. She hesitated, wondering what his sudden presence in their lives would mean for her. She had blamed him for losing the war, losing his kingdom, and she had cursed him for it. But she knew that he blamed her just as much, and she had a feeling nothing good would come of this.
George wanted to hurt David, and to hell with anyone who stood in his way.
She smiled grimly - at least that was a sentiment she understood.
Ruby leaned back against the cold cell wall, her lips pressed together thinly. "I don't know how, but he found me and we… we fought."
Regina laughed outright at that. "And he won?" she asked disbelievingly. "He was able to recapture a werewolf by himself?" She shook her head, her gaze flicked between the two incarcerated women. A hint of mocking crept into her voice. "Aren't werewolves supposed to be strong?"
Ruby flushed, then said defiantly, "I had the upper hand. I'd knocked him down and was going to run, and then…" She stopped, frowning uncertainly. "I don't… I don't know," she admitted. "Something happened. Something must have happened. I remember my head hurting, as though something had hit it… and then I woke up here, back in the sheriff's station, and…" She trailed off once more, and gave Mary Margaret another apologetic look.
"And what?" Regina pressed, having no time and no sympathy for whatever was bothering the werewolf.
Ruby shook her head wordlessly.
"When she regained consciousness, she told Leah..." Mary Margaret started, picking up the explanation where Ruby had left off.
"I didn't mean to," Ruby interrupted in anguish, sending a pleading look at both Mary Margaret and Regina. "Snow, if I had known, I would never have..."
"I know," Mary Margaret said again. "Ruby, I know."
"And I still don't," Regina snapped, her temper quickly rising. Honestly, would the two ever stop wallowing in self-pity long enough to finish this story?
Ruby rose to her feet and walked away from Mary Margaret. She stared towards the window opposite them, her gaze fixed on the night sky barely visible through the glass.
"Snow was so happy to see me," Ruby murmured quietly, carefully avoiding meeting anyone's gaze. Her words were haphazard, and she stumbled over them as she pushed through the explanation, guilt and regret in her tone. "When I regained consciousness in the sheriff's station, she hugged me and said she was glad to be back, glad to see me, glad to... to... be here. And I... I was disoriented and confused, and my head hurt, and I didn't think... I didn't think. I blurted out that I'd just seen her, and what was I doing here - what was she doing here? Weren't we supposed to meet in the woods?" She shook her head, lowering her gaze and bringing her hands up to rest on the bars.
"And Leah was here," Regina said flatly, not bothering to soften her words. "Leah was here, and she heard you, and she had Miss Blanchard thrown in prison."
Ruby flinched, and nodded. Then she looked up and held Regina's gaze. "George is behind this. One way or another, I know he is behind this."
And Cora was behind it as well. That much was obvious, though no one said the words aloud.
"You don't know anything, dear - you suspect it," Regina retorted, viciously pushing away thoughts of her mother. She looked away from the wolf and focused on Mary Margaret. "Was Leah the only one who heard Miss Lucas'... unfortunate... confession?"
Mary Margaret shook her head. "No. Charles was here, and Midas, and Primrose. And Stefan, of course."
"And they all believe that you are guilty of aiding and abetting an accused murderer?"
Mary Margaret nodded. "Charles was so... the look in his eyes. He was angry, betrayed. I don't think he wanted to believe that I would do this, but when Ruby..." She shook her head again and sighed.
There was a long moment of silence.
Then Regina asked, "If Leah is so convinced that you were somehow able to open this cell, why would she throw you into it? How daft is she?"
Mary Margaret gave a hollow laugh in response. "I asked her the same thing," she admitted, lips twisting into a wry grin. "She said it would only be temporary - that they would find a more permanent solution tomorrow."
"Well, I'll wish her good luck with that," Regina scoffed. "I've been trying to find a permanent solution to you for years, and yet you are still here."
Mary Margaret tensed slightly at Regina's words, then abruptly stood up and straightened her back. "You're right. I am still here, and I need to get a message to David," she said, her words suddenly hard and sharp. The self-pity was gone, as was any and all sympathy she might have had for the other royals. This was not the pampered princess, this was not the innocent child or the naive adolescent.
This was the young woman fugitive who had taken back her kingdom.
Regina raised an eyebrow. "What message?" she asked cautiously.
"Eric and Ariel are on our side - or, at least, they will be willing to hear us out. David needs to reach out to them. Katherine, and Ashley and Sean, too. We need to move quickly."
"And do what?" Regina pressed.
"Leah thinks she has a right to lead this town. I'm going to show her that she doesn't," Mary Margaret answered.
"And start a war?" Ruby asked, chewing her lip worriedly. "I don't know if that is such a good idea, Snow." She walked back to the cot and sat down. "I don't have a lot of faith in Leah's idea of a fair trial, but I can't imagine an all-out war is going to solve anything."
"It's not," Mary Margaret answered, "and that's the point. If we don't do something now, it will become an all-out war. The longer we don't challenge her authority, the less inclined she will be to give up her power. We have to show her that not everyone agrees with her. We have to show her that some people are questioning this - questioning her motives, questioning her fairness, questioning her willingness to listen to alternative explanations. I might not like Leah, but I do believe that she cares about this town. She wants it safe, peaceful. If we force her to choose between compromise and chaos, she will compromise."
"Are you sure about that, dear?" Regina asked skeptically. Her own interactions with Leah made her a bit less willing to believe the best of the redheaded queen. "Not everyone wants to give up their power." She paused, then found herself adding spitefully, "You certainly didn't, or was it an accident that you banished me and took my throne?"
Mary Margaret raised an eyebrow, a look of fleeting surprise passing through her features. It quickly morphed into anger. "Your throne?" she repeated incredulously, flushing red. Bitterness seeped into her voice. "Or do you mean the one you murdered my father for?"
"I was the Queen," Regina hissed, old wounds coming open. She'd been ignored - relegated to the place of second best, forever in the shadow of a naive child and a dead woman. Everything she had ever wanted had been torn away from her, and the power her mother had promised - the power she had never actually wanted, but was supposed to somehow make everything better - had not been forthcoming.
Magic had been a cheap replacement for what she had lost, but somewhere along the way it had given her the power that she had started craving... or maybe it had made her start craving the power. She wasn't really sure anymore.
Either way... "The throne was mine by right."
"If you have to murder for it, it doesn't belong to you," Mary Margaret shot back. She grabbed at the bars to the cell, fingers curling so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"Then how do you justify the war you started? People died there, didn't they?" Regina questioned, and watched as Mary Margaret flushed an even darker red.
It had always been hard to get a rise out of Snow. The ridiculously compassionate princess had been calm, accommodating, forgiving. Charming had been different - quick tempered and quick to anger, far too rash for his own good - but Snow had wanted to see the best in people. Or maybe she had just wanted to see the best in Regina. Whatever her motivations were, Regina sometimes thought the younger woman had simply deluded herself into seeing things that weren't there.
It was easier to get a rise out of Mary Margaret.
But instead of the victory Regina expected to feel, she just felt empty.
Then Mary Margaret shook her head, and gave a harsh laugh. "I agreed to let the Huntsmen kill me to keep the peace in my father's kingdom. I would have sacrificed my life for that."
"But he didn't kill you, and so you started a war," Regina answered coolly, and even the emptiness - even the voice in her head telling her to stop, telling her that this was pointless, that the argument would help no one - was not enough to halt the words that came pouring out. She wasn't really sure why she said them, but she couldn't stop herself. "You can claim to be a martyr all you want, dear, but I know differently."
"I didn't start the war," Mary Margaret snapped. "You did. You started all of it. Neither Charming nor I would have come after you if you didn't keep trying to kill us!"
"Is that so?" Regina laughed softly, trying and failing to be amused by the other woman's defenses.
"You slaughtered an entire village looking for me," Mary Margaret continued, seething. Something shifted in her gaze, made her look darker, angrier. "You had your guards murder anyone who spoke ill of you. You ripped out your own father's heart to get to me! All you wanted was power, and you were willing to kill for it. If Leah won't compromise, it's because she is like you, not me."
Regina took a step back. "Enjoy prison," she spat, and before Mary Margaret or Ruby could say anything, she disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.
Regina had been in a foul mood when she had finally returned to the mayoral mansion, and David had been forced to pry the information out of her. He wasn't entirely sure what had set her off, and he also didn't care. As soon as he heard the words Miss Blanchard and prison, he had stormed out of the house. Regina had shouted something after him - something about how Midas and Charles and Primrose were against him, and he was supposed to go talk to the allies he had left, but he ignored that.
He just had to get out.
The sheriff's station was still guarded by Leah's men, and although David was certain he could beat them in a fight, he had opted not to do so. He'd calmed down enough by then to realize that storming the station would get him nowhere because he still couldn't open the door to the prison.
Instead, he found himself walking towards Katherine's house.
The realization that he would see the blonde left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was nothing against her, of course. He had liked Abigail, at least after she had told him what had happened to Frederick and convinced him not to give up on Snow, and he had loved Katherine. Even if it had been the curse playing with his feelings, those feelings still lingered.
Of course, they were nothing compared to what he felt for Mary Margaret.
But thinking about Katherine made him think about what had happened before the curse had been broken, and thinking about that brought the same storm of anger and self-loathing that had hit him when Regina had delivered the news.
Mary Margaret was in prison. Again.
She'd been there before, falsely accused of a crime she didn't commit, a crime that didn't even happen. And while framing her for murder had been Regina's doing, he had no one to blame but himself for his own actions.
How could he have ever doubted her? How could he have ever believed that she would do a thing like that? He might not have truly known Mary Margaret, but was that really an excuse? He had loved her, even when they were cursed.
Mary Margaret had already been through this hell once, and he hadn't stood by her, hadn't protected her. He would not allow Leah to do the same thing all over again.
He walked slowly up the steps to the front door and wrapped his knuckles against the wood. From inside, he heard the sound of footsteps on a wooden floor, and a voice calling out to wait just a minute. The door swung open a moment later, and he found himself staring at Katherine.
"David," she said in surprise, blinking. She pushed a few strands of blonde hair out of her eyes. "Oh… or would you prefer James?"
"No, no. David is fine," he said quickly. He gave a strained smile. "I was hoping to talk to you, though. Do you... do you mind if I come in?"
"Of course not," she answered with a smile of her own, and stepped aside. "Jim – Frederick, as you knew him – is out running errands." And she beckoned for him to follow her into a large and well-furnished living room.
David glanced around quickly, taking in the lavish surroundings.
Katherine noticed his gaze, and explained, "Mostly gifts from my father. He didn't like the state of Jim's house the first time he saw it, after the curse had broken. I tried to tell him that all I cared about was being with my true love again, but he insisted." She rolled her eyes in fond amusement.
David nodded silently, unsure what to say to that.
"He does something in finances, you know," Katherine continued, gesturing for him to take a seat on the sofa. "I don't understand it, but he's good at it. The curse gave him that, I suppose." She waited until David was sitting, then added, "Everything he touches turns to gold. Just… not literally."
"The not literally part is good," David said.
"Hm… yes, it is," she agreed. She sat down opposite him and folded her hands in her lap, fingers intertwined, and that was when David realized that she wasn't prattling on about furnishings because she was so comfortable around him; she was doing it because she was nervous and needed to fill up the awkward silence.
Somehow, that made him feel better. And worse.
She lowered her gaze for a moment, and the silence between them was filled with memories from the curse - from before.
You were right - I did hate that windmill out front.
You remember.
"How are you?" she asked, sounding unsure.
"Good. I'm good." He cleared his throat. "I… uh… it's good to remember."
"Yes, it is," Katherine agreed, smiling faintly.
Neither of them mentioned any of the things they had done when they hadn't remembered. He'd loved her, once – or at least he'd thought he had. They'd built a life together – or, rather, Regina had given them memories of a life together. And with those memories, they'd talked about the future, about their future, about a family.
They'd had sex.
But he didn't want to think about that, and he didn't want to think about all the intimate details he knew about her.
"I haven't seen you since the curse broke," David said finally. "Have you been busy?"
"Yes. Well – no. Jim and I have mostly kept to ourselves," Katherine admitted. A true smile graced her features when she said Jim's name. "We were getting reacquainted." And a light blush crept up the back of her neck and filled her cheeks, leaving David quite clear on what reacquainted meant.
He wondered vaguely if that was all they had been doing for the past several weeks. But the thought hit too close to home, brought up all his frustration and uncertainties about where he and Katherine now stood with each other.
I know we weren't at a good place when I left. I know you thought I was leaving you, but I wasn't. I wanted to work things out, I just…needed some time. Then I had my accident and got much more time than I expected. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, too.
"And you? Have you and Mary Margaret… I mean… how are you two doing?" Katherine asked, tripping over the words.
"Well, her being sent back to our home was a little bit challenging. Being trapped in separate worlds is not conducive to reuniting," David answered wryly, attempting to inject some levity into the situation.
"Yes, I heard about that," Katherine said. She smoothed the fabric of her skirt with one hand while the other rested awkwardly at her side.
Heard, but didn't offer to help. The thought was a sour one, but David wasn't really sure why. With the exception of their brief alliance to free Frederick and escape George's men, he and Abigail had never been friends, or even allies. After George's defeat and his marriage to Snow, they hadn't even spoken beyond a few diplomatic meetings. He had no right to expect assistance from her, and she had no obligation to give it.
But he and Katherine were a different story. For all the times they'd crashed and burned, he still thought there was something there – some loyalty. But then, given his treatment of her, maybe he was only fooling himself. Maybe it was merely his own guilt that made him feel loyal to her, and she had no reason to return the sentiment.
Anyway, it wasn't like any of the emotions were even real. They were Regina's doing, another way to torment Mary Margaret, to torment him, to keep them apart. His love for Katherine was nothing more than magic messing with his mind - and even when he'd been under the curse, he'd still never loved Katherine the way he'd loved Mary Margaret. Fake love could never overwhelm real love.
And yet, knowing that still didn't make his emotions feel any less real.
Mostly, it just made him angry.
"But I heard that Mary Margaret had returned," Katherine interrupted his thoughts. "My father said he had spoken to her."
"Yes – that is true. But something happened, and I need your help," David said, quickly taking the opening that was offered.
"Is she alright?" Katherine asked, and at least there was genuine concern in her gaze.
David shook his head. "No, she's not alright," he said, the words almost getting stuck in his throat. He rose to his feet suddenly, and started pacing, angry that this was happening all over again. His footsteps were loud and sharp against the floor, and he ran his hand through his hair and gritted his teeth.
"What happened?" Katherine asked. And then, "And what do you need from me?"
He spun around to face her. She didn't look like Abigail anymore. She wore her hair straight and simple, had forgone the complicated lace and gold silk dresses for something far more muted, and her expression was frank and open, without a trace of the contempt she'd expressed for Charming when they'd first met.
She didn't look like Katherine, either. She had too much confidence, too much poise… too much happiness.
He couldn't remember her ever looking that happy during the curse. Of course, it had been a curse, and they weren't each other's true loves, and their rocky relationship had been due at least in part to Regina. But it had been due to his own cowardice, too. He hadn't been able to face his feelings head-on.
Charming was an infinitely more admirable man, but being around Katherine made him feel like David again.
I know we have work to do. Let's see what happens.
I'd like that.
He remembered the night he'd first regained his fake memories, when thoughts of Katherine had filled his mind. He remembered that reunion, and the way she'd smiled with tentative joy, thinking of a future they both had thought they wanted. And he remembered the way they moved together underneath the sheets that night.
It didn't make him feel any better about himself, and the self-revulsion threatened to overwhelm him.
She wasn't Mary Margaret, and Abigail hadn't been Snow, and nothing he had ever felt for her would come close to the overwhelming devotion he felt for his true love.
But all this was complicated, and it made him uncomfortable and uneasy, and – God, what had Regina done to them?
He let out a breath.
"I know, after everything," he started, "I really don't have a right to ask you for help, but…"
"David," Katherine interrupted, "you gave me back my true love. You have the right to ask me for anything." She rose to her feet and crossed the room to stand in front of him. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me what happened to Mary Margaret, and I will help you in any way that I can."
David nodded, and told her everything.
Leah looked at the others gathered in the meeting room at town hall. James was seething, but she had not expected anything else from him. Midas was glaring at everyone, and that, too, was an expected response. Charles was harder to read, though the look he gave James when the younger man first entered the room was indicative of a sense of stinging betrayal. Eric was talking in a low tone to James, and looking decidedly uncomfortable by the newest turn of events.
Ariel, Thomas, and Primrose had not come – it was an impromptu meeting, and they had all been busy – but Abigail, Sean, and Ella had. And the presence of the younger royals concerned her, because they were all far too loyal to Snow to be able to see anything clearly.
And, of course, George was there.
He stood lounging against the wall, watching everything with a guarded expression. It was hard to guess what he was thinking, but his presence increased the tension in the room, and she was worried.
He worried her.
"You can't possibly think listening to George is a good idea?" James said finally, turning away from Eric and facing her.
"Why not?" she demanded, though she had to silently agree that she harbored some concerns.
"He has a habit of trying to murder people who don't do what he wants," James replied bitterly. His eyes darted briefly to the man in question as he added in a softer tone, "He's not on your side, Leah."
"And you are?" she responded skeptically.
"I think we should consider what David is saying," Ella spoke up, interrupting the brewing argument. "Not about Mr. Spencer – George – but about Mary Margaret being framed."
"Charles has already agreed that Snow will need to stand trial," Leah answered calmly, giving Ella a dismissive once-over. "Your father-in-law has the deciding vote for the kingdom, and he knows more about this matter than you anyway. You should trust his judgment."
"I do," Ella snapped. Leah merely scoffed, but the young woman turned to Charles and said, "Do you really think Mary Margaret would do something like this?" Charles didn't answer, and she pressed on, "You know that there are people in this town with magic. People who don't like Mary Margaret, and who would enjoy seeing her fall. Can't you at least consider the possibility that Regina or Rumpelstiltskin or someone else is behind this?"
"Is that someone else supposed to be Regina's illusive and apparently all-powerful mother?" Leah interjected mockingly.
"The simplest solution is usually the right one," Midas said. "I think it is far more likely that Snow helped Miss Lucas escape than that some other power is framing her."
"I just can't believe that Mary Margaret would do something like that," Abigail murmured, giving her father an apologetic smile as she disagreed with him. "And I think… well, don't we have an obligation to investigate every possibility? Particularly if someone is using magic to target us?"
Midas hesitated, then heaved a sigh and nodded. "I suppose you are right, darling," he said. "As far-fetched as Snow's claims may seem, it would not hurt to investigate them."
Leah gritted her teeth. Midas had always referred to his daughter as the thing he valued the most. After his wife's death, he had clung to his Abigail – figuratively, of course – allowing her anything her heart desired. She still held sway over him, and it was clear that she intended to use that to help Snow.
"And how do we go about investigating?" Stefan questioned skeptically. "We have no leads – except, of course, what the werewolf has already told us."
"Stefan is right," Leah agreed. "You talk about other possibilities, but Miss Lucas admitted that Snow helped her escape."
"Or someone who looked like Snow," Abigail answered calmly.
James nodded his agreement, and said bitterly, "You are looking for an easy solution, Leah, instead of looking for the right one."
"And you are looking for absolutely anything that will free your wife!" Leah shot back, flushing at the accusation. "The werewolf's fingerprints were on the murder weapon that killed Sir Maurice – a weapon she owned, and only she and her grandmother could easily access – and yet you claim she is being framed and demand that we release her, practically insinuating that you will find a way to free her no matter. We refuse, and then she disappears, and when she is found she admits that it was Snow who helped her escape, and yet you want us to believe that you had nothing to do with any of this?" She turned towards the others gathered, and questioned, "Am I the only one who hesitates to believes Snow's innocence?"
"George must have…"
"Must have what?" Leah interrupted James, her frustration nearly boiling over. "Used magic that he doesn't have to modify Miss Lucas' memory? Or perhaps he disguised himself as Snow and was the one to help the wolf escape? Is that what you are suggesting?" James glared at George, but Leah ignored them both and turned to Midas. "You said the simplest solution is usually the right one. This is the simplest solution."
"Well, then let's definitely condemn innocent people on the word of murderer," James growled. He was staring hard at George, dislike etched into the lines of his face. "How many more people will you take from me?"
"You're nothing," George spat in reply, eyes narrowed dangerously. "You were never anything to me, and you shouldn't mean anything to the people here. You're not one of us. You're a shepherd, that's all."
"I was a commoner, too," Ella interjected, frowning at George. "It doesn't mean we shouldn't have our opinions heard."
The truth of James' parenthood was a secret known to only a select few, but all the royals knew. It had been hard not to learn the truth in the aftermath of the war between James and Snow and George and Regina. There had been too many questions to ask, too many illogical actions that needed to be explained.
Why would George – a man who had always loved his son, always given him everything – suddenly turn on the very same boy and try to have him killed? It had made no sense at the time, and the war had been baffling to her and Stefan until the messy truth was finally revealed.
Although it hadn't been revealed to any of George's subjects, who had quickly joined James' side for fear that their king was going mad. They'd preferred the relative safety of rule by the prince over the sudden uncertainty of rule by a man who would try to slaughter his own son for the crime of falling in love with the wrong princess.
Leah pushed away the thoughts. It did no good to dwell on any of that, and it had no bearing on the situation at hand.
"Ella is right," she said, inclining her head towards the young woman, "where James came from is irrelevant. His current actions, however, are not." She gave George a distasteful look, and added, "And I will remind you that Snow was born a princess, and that has not stopped her from breaking the law. Common blood means nothing."
"We can leave Snow in prison while we investigate the possibility of magic," Midas said, speaking up to bring the conversation back to the topic on hand. "There is no reason to rush the trial."
"Unless Snow breaks out of prison," Charles said wearily.
Sean glanced at his father. "She won't do that," he said softly, and though his protests were not as vehement as Ella's, it was clear that, like his true love, he was taking Snow's side in this. "You can't believe she would do that."
Charles shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what I believe," he admitted. "I don't know her – not anymore."
"I do," Eric spoke up. "I still know Snow – or Mary Margaret, or whatever she wants to be called. She wouldn't do this. She just wouldn't, and you can't convince me that she did."
Abigail nodded in agreement.
"You weren't there," Midas said, still wavering as he looked between his daughter, Eric, and Leah. "You did not hear what Miss Lucas said. You might think differently if you had."
"When I found her in the woods," George said, giving Eric a hard look, "Miss Lucas yelled at me that I needed to stay away from her because Mary Margaret had warned her that we would come after her, and she was prepared to fight me. And because, once this was all over, Mary Margaret would be coming back for her."
"This is ridiculous!" James growled, throwing his hands in the air. "I am not listening to the accusations of a man who was willing to replace his son for gold!"
Leah wasn't entirely sure how everything happened, but a moment later George had James pinned up against the wall, his fingers biting into James' shoulders, his face contorted in rage.
"Do you think I wanted that?" George snarled. "Do you think it was easy to have you in my house, pretending to be my son? Do you think I wanted to act as though everything was alright, to forgo a chance to grieve the boy I had raised, the boy I had loved? Do you think you were anything but a painful reminder of what I had lost?"
"George…" Stefan moved quickly to his side, attempting to pull the irate deposed king away from James. "George, let go."
George dropped James and stood back, chest heaving with emotion. "My advisers, my guards – they all told me I couldn't grieve. The kingdom had to survive. My son was dead, but I had to put that aside to save my kingdom and then you… you came. And you ruined everything."
George shrugged off Stefan's hand and turned away from all of them. He stalked towards the door, then looked back at James, his gaze burning with fury.
"You think you are good and selfless and true, and you can do whatever you want and know that it is justified. And to hell with the people you harm along the way. But that is done, David. You are done. You will never ruin another life."
And he stormed from the room.
"I'm sorry, Snow," Ruby said.
Mary Margaret shook her head and gave a tired smile. "We've been over this," she answered, "and we agreed that none of it was your fault."
"Feels like it," Ruby muttered. She tilted her head up and stared at the ceiling above them, not meeting Mary Margaret's gaze. "I didn't believe it, you know. When you came. I didn't believe you'd really want me to escape."
"I know," Mary Margaret answered. They'd had this discussion many times, rehashing the details of everything that had happened, and although both of them had agreed that they'd been played, Ruby was still having a hard time letting go.
Mary Margaret supposed she couldn't really blame her for that.
Ruby sighed morosely and played with a loose thread on her shirt for a moment. "You had a key, said that you had stolen it," she said finally, "and you told me Leah was behind all of it – but you just… you seemed so much like you. There was something wrong, something off – a scent, maybe. But you knew things. You referenced our dream cottage and my mother and…" She stopped, breaking off, her voice shaking slightly. "I don't know how the imposter knew those things."
Mary Margaret sighed. "I do," she murmured under her breath.
Cora had Henry's book.
Ruby chewed her lip for a moment, then said abruptly, "You call James David. Not Charming, but David. And you call me Ruby, and Regina still calls you Miss Blanchard."
Mary Margaret blinked, then nodded. Charming's real name had been David, but that really wasn't the point. She didn't feel like Snow White anymore. Or, at least, not purely Snow White. She was someone else, a mixture of people, and the name Mary Margaret had belonged to her for so long that it felt odd to abandon it now.
"Would you rather I call you Red?" she asked.
Ruby considered this for a moment, then said, "Granny still calls me Ruby. And I've been calling James David ever since the curse broke. I guess it doesn't really matter. It's weird, though, isn't it? Having two identities, two lives, in your head? I've been trying to combine them both, but…" She shrugged. "It's just really strange." A pause, then, "Do you want me to call you Mary Margaret?"
"You can call me whatever you want," Mary Margaret replied with a slight grin.
"Oh… how touching."
Mary Margaret was on her feet immediately, tensed and ready for something bad to happen, because she knew that voice.
And then Cora was there.
She looked around for a moment before focusing on Mary Margaret, and said, "I find this quite... airy... for a dungeon. Are there no good caves in this world?"
"It's not a dungeon, Cora," Mary Margaret replied evenly, hands clenched into fists at her side.
"And yet you are in a cage," Cora mused. Her gaze moved between Ruby and Mary Margaret, and she added, "And despite that you still find the time to bond with your wolf friend. How sweet."
"Whatever you're doing, you won't get away with it," Mary Margaret said firmly, grabbing the bars tightly and giving Cora a defiant look. "Good will win. You'll see."
"Yes, because it is doing such a wonderful job of winning so far," Cora laughed quietly, giving Mary Margaret a bemused look.
"Why are you doing this?" Ruby demanded. "What did either of us ever do to you?"
"You should ask your mother, Snow," Cora answered, anger seeping into her voice for just a moment. The emotion was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by a sardonic smile, but Mary Margaret had seen it all the same, and wondered what it meant.
Cora stepped closer to the cell.
"Oh, wait… you can't ask her," she said softly. "She's dead." She reached out suddenly, her fingers snatching the fabric of Mary Margaret's shirt just above her heart. "Your daughter saved you once, dear, but she's not here anymore. And the next time I try to take your heart, I'll make sure to succeed."
Mary Margaret batted Cora's hand away and took a step backwards. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, repeating Ruby's question.
"To prove a point," Cora answered simply. "One day soon, my dear Snow, you will understand. When I've taken away what you care about the most, it will all make sense."
"If I hadn't told you about Daniel…" Mary Margaret whispered, shaking her head. How much of this pain could have been avoided if she had simply kept her mouth shut? Her father would have found another suitable wife, Regina could have run off with Daniel, and everyone would have been happy.
"Oh, my dear, sweet child," Cora answered with a smile, "do you really think that I didn't know?"
It took a moment for the meaning of the words to sink in.
"What?"
"Poor, naïve Snow," Cora said, shaking her head in amusement. "It was my home, and my daughter. Of course I knew about Daniel. Regina was a lot of things then, but she was not a very good liar. Whatever secrets she thought she hid from me..." She shook her head again. "She was wrong. She hid nothing."
"But.. but... if you knew... then why... why...?" Mary Margaret stammered.
Cora reached up and touched Mary Margaret's face lightly, gently running her fingers down the younger woman's cheek. "Because you had to take the blame, dear. Daniel's death had to be your fault, or how would any of my plans come to fruition?"
And then she was gone, disappearing in a puff of smoke.
The next morning dawned unusually bright for winter in Maine, and Regina found herself groggily staring at the handheld mirror the Genie had once given her as a present, feeling almost too tired to even attempt using magic. David had returned to her home late at night, shaking with anger, and had spent most of the night pacing back and forth across the floor of the guest bedroom. For her part, Regina had still been irate about the end of her argument with Mary Margaret, and while she and David had both done their best to hide their emotions from Henry, he had been sullen that morning as well, perhaps picking up on the tension in the house.
But he'd reluctantly agreed to stay behind with Granny while Regina and David returned to Mary Margaret's apartment to meet Sidney.
Well, David hadn't really given him much of a choice. He now viewed George as a threat to Henry as well, and did not want his grandson to leave the safety of Regina's magically-protected house.
The concern for Henry's wellbeing was at least something Regina could agree with.
She ran a finger over the mirror, and remembered the Genie's words when he presented it to her.
So you can see yourself the way I see you.
Regina glanced over as Sidney entered the apartment, and watched as his eyes landed on the mirror. He stopped for a moment, his expression inscrutable, then lifted his gaze to meet her own.
She wondered idly how he saw her now.
She set the mirror down on the table, and took a seat in front of it. Sidney came wordlessly to the seat opposite her, his eyes once more on the mirror between, and David hovered uselessly in the background.
She almost snapped at David to leave. His energy was too much – too angry, too rash, too all-consuming. They didn't need him, and his presence was only a distraction.
"Did he do that often?" Sidney asked, and Regina returned her attention to him, letting David remain ignored for the moment.
"Did who do what?" she asked in ill-disguised impatience.
"Leopold," Sidney said quietly, giving her an almost malicious smile. "Did he often ignore you at his fancy banquets, heaping all his lavish praise on his daughter instead?" She started ever so slightly, and Sidney pressed, "You certainly didn't seem surprised when he spoke of how precious Snow was."
"Leopold was a fool," Regina replied callously, unwilling to show any weakness.
Sidney didn't press the issue – perhaps he had gotten everything he wanted from the way she had flinched at his words.
"That's my father-in-law you're talking about," David interrupted.
Regina swiveled in her seat and raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. "And man you never met, David, so you really don't have the ability to judge if I am right or not." She looked back at the mirror for a moment before adding sourly, "Though even if you had met him, I am sure you would agree. He was even more a fool than you – and that is saying something."
"You have a habit of turning people into fools, or at least trying to," Sidney said in his own bitter tone, speaking before David had a chance to reply.
Loved you? I wanted the King killed, and you killed him. You are no longer of any use to me. Be grateful I'm offering you an escape. Now flee the kingdom and never turn back.
"But your own son saw through you – and so did Emma Swan."
This time Regina managed not flinch – but only barely. She met Sidney's gaze coolly and answered, "And yet you never did." She gestured to the mirror, and rested her fingers along the edge of the frame. "Shall we begin?"
Sidney nodded, and placed his hand on the glass, his fingers close to hers, and Regina closed her eyes and willed the magic to flow into the mirror.
It grated against her skin. It was hot and painful, and it bit into her as though it was scraping away her insides. She pushed through the pain, concentrating on the hum of magic that was still vaguely familiar, even if everything else felt different. The emotions the magic conjured up battled for control within her, and she felt alternating fury and pain.
She held onto the emotions, knowing that they were feeding her magic even as they threatened to overwhelm her, and pressed her fingers as hard as she could onto the mirror.
She could feel Sidney's presence across from her, connected by the magic and the mirror. She wasn't sure how much he could feel – was her magic as open to him as it was to her? Did he feel those emotions and the memories that accompanied them, or did he only feel the burning and the humming and the grating?
The mirror was familiar, and as her magic flowed into it, she remembered. The joy at finally finding someone gullible enough to kill the king for her, the strange mix of fury and resigned acceptance that Leopold could never see anything more than his daughter, and the unwelcome bit of humanity that had sparked to life in her heart when the Genie had given here the mirror and declared his love.
Sidney's fingers suddenly closed over hers, and her eyes snapped open.
I can't live without you. I won't live without you.
The mirror shifted, and for one brief moment, Regina saw her own palace shimmering in the glass.
Sidney slumped over on the table, gasping for breath.
Regina continued to stare at Sidney, feeling uncomfortable. The Genie had been lovelorn and weak, and Sidney wasn't any better, and suddenly being around him made Regina uneasy though she wasn't entirely sure why. She hadn't felt anything other than contempt for him in a very long time. She still felt little more than contempt, but he wasn't as easily manipulated now as he had been before, and the mistrust was back.
She looked away.
"Regina?" David asked, hurrying to her side. "What happened? Did it work?"
Regina stared at the mirror. "It worked," she said quietly, "but we need more magic. The connection is tenuous at best, and there is no way that Sidney will be able to move from mirror to mirror on my magic alone."
"I'll call the Blue Fairy," David said immediately. "She'll be able to help, I know she will."
"Oh, how delightful," Regina drawled sarcastically.
Sidney pushed his chair back suddenly and stood up. "She was there." Regina and David both looked at him, and he said, "Emma Swan. She was there, in the palace. I saw her, in the mirror. She was there."
"Sheriff Swan was in my home?" Regina demanded, feeling a sense of invasion.
Sidney nodded mutely, ignoring Regina's tone. "Yes. She was there. I don't… I didn't see much, but she was definitely there." He looked at Regina. "We can try again while he calls the Blue Fairy. I can probably hold it for longer now that…" He stopped, trailing off.
Regina frowned, not liking Sidney's sudden change in behavior. He'd been reluctant to even try this, and now he wanted to press forward when it was causing them both such extreme exhaustion?
"Do it," David ordered as he turned to find the phone.
Regina nodded slowly, still studying Sidney's expression, and reached for the mirror. She was dimly aware of David talking on the phone in the background, but she ignored him. Sidney put his hand on the mirror as well, and she willed the magic to come back.
The image in the mirror lasted longer this time, and Emma swam into view. She was standing in the center of the mirror, her pale skin bruised and scraped, her hair plastered to her neck and back. She wore her red leather jacket over her bra and underwear, and was looking around her in a combination of interest and distaste.
"Emma? Oh, thank God," Regina heard David say, and then he stepped around the table, dropping the phone onto an empty seat and staring down at Emma's image in the mirror. His face reflected relief at seeing his daughter alive, but it was quickly replaced by embarrassment and bewilderment, and he reached over to immediately cover Sidney's eyes.
"Why isn't she dressed?"