Chapter Twenty-Seven: Battle Lines
"Gabriel."
Christian studied the man before him. The stranger was tall and broad-shouldered, and wore an unapologetically severe expression. He carried himself with a sense of purpose, and a sense of authority, and though he somehow knew Christian's pre-Storybrooke name, Christian had no idea of this man's identity. They had never met before Regina's curse had ripped them all away from their homes, and Christian wasn't sure that they'd met after the curse, either.
"I prefer Christian," he said simply.
"So eager to forget who you are?" the other man asked with a hint of derision in his tone.
"I know who I am," Christian replied, bristling. "Who are you?"
"Stefan." The man – Stefan – glanced behind him before asking, "Do you mind if I come in?"
"I still don't know who you are, and I'm not in the habit of letting strangers into my home," Christian replied warily. The name Stefan meant little to him, though it sounded vaguely familiar.
"I am an acquaintance of your niece," Stefan replied.
"Well, at this point most people know her," Christian answered blithely. "She did curse us, after all."
Stefan nodded, and said nothing.
Christian sighed inwardly. As unconcerned as he might appear about the reference to Regina, internally he worried. Very few people knew of his connection to her, and he'd been hoping to keep it that way. He did not want to dredge up memories of the past, and he did not want to be blamed for the crime of being her family.
"My kingdom frequently engaged in trade with Leopold and Eva," Stefan added after a moment of silent. "I believe you knew Eva?"
Christian agreed with a curt nod. "She visited on occasion. Her father was friendly with mine before..."
"Before?" Stefan prompted as Christian trailed off.
"It doesn't matter," Christian answered, waving away the question. He was not about to discuss the details of his past with a stranger, not even one who was apparently a king. Especially not one who was a king.
"May I come in?" Stefan asked again. "I'd like to talk to you about Regina."
"I have nothing to say about her," Christian snapped. "I barely know her."
Stefan considered this, evidently weighing the possible truth of those words, then said, "Alright. How about we talk about your father and his kingdom?"
"My father is dead and his kingdom no longer exists. There is nothing to say," Christian answered, blood suffusing his face. Did this man really think he could waltz into Christian's home and demand an explanation, a story? He had no idea what Christian had lost, and Christian had no desire to tell him.
Stefan gritted his teeth, frustrated by the lack of response. "Are you on her side?" he demanded. "Are you plotting with her?"
"Regina?" Christian retorted. "Of course not." Stefan did not look convinced, so Christian continued angrily, "Didn't you hear me when I said that I barely know her?"
"She is your niece. Your family."
"That means nothing to me," Christian answered immediately. But the response was automatic, reflexive... and probably not true. He'd known Regina as a young girl, a child, and had liked her well enough then. For the sake of the child he had once known, he did not want to cause her undue pain.
But she'd also become a tyrannical queen who had cursed them all, and it was not unreasonable for the other inhabitants of the town to be suspicious of her now.
Or to want justice.
Either way, he wanted nothing to do with any of this.
"Family means nothing to you?" Stefan repeated disbelievingly. "Why should I believe that?"
"I don't care whether or not you believe what I say."
"Have you spoken to Regina since the curse broke?"
Christian hesitated for a fraction of a second before lying. "No."
"I don't believe you," Stefan accused.
Christian stepped back into his home and started to close the door. "And you still aren't listening to anything I say. I don't care if you believe me."
"You should care," Stefan reasoned, catching the door before it could close all the way. "Do you really want the whole town turning on you? Do you want people to think you're working with the Evil Queen?" He gestured to the two large trees that blocked the street from view. "You might be content to hide away while the town turns on itself, but what happens when the town finds you?"
"Are you threatening me?" Christian hissed.
"Of course not," Stefan replied, holding up his hands in defense. A slight smile curled his lips. "This is merely a… friendly… warning. This town is heading towards a battle. A brutal, knock-down, drag-out fight. I want to make sure you are on the right side."
Christian hesitated, then said, "I barely know Regina, but I know her mother quite well. I am on whatever side will be able to defeat Cora."
A look of confusion flashed across Stefan's face, but Christian slammed the door shut before he could ask anything else.
Being accosted in the middle of the street was not a new experience for Regina, but that did little to lessen her surprise when she saw just who it was standing before her.
"Berkley."
"Your Majesty," the knight said with a respectful bow of his head. He was dressed in jeans and a heavy jacket, a very different look from the black armor all her knights had worn – but he still had the same carefully groomed beard and closely cropped hair cut, and his eyes were just as cold as they had been before the curse.
"I… what are you doing here?" Regina asked.
"I was looking for you," Berkley replied. "I wanted to see if I could be of service."
Regina raised her eyebrows in surprise at that. Berkley had been one of her loyal knights, but unlike Sidney and Graham, she'd had no use for him in Storybrooke and so had not seen him or any of the other knights she'd employed since casting the curse.
She had no idea who his cursed counterpart had been, but given his past proclivity for alcohol, she could make some guesses about where he had spent most of his time.
"How thoughtful," Regina murmured. She considered Berkley for a moment, suspicion clouding her eyes. Something about this seemed off, something about him had changed.
Or perhaps she was simply paranoid.
She fiddled with the end of her scarf as she asked, "Why do you want to be of service?"
"I am still your loyal knight," Berkley replied with another bow of his head.
Regina pursed her lips. "But the curse broke weeks ago. If you've returned to me out of loyalty, why did it take so long?"
"I was waiting to see if you would contact me, your Majesty," Berkley replied. "I did not want to assume. But given the current state of the town… well…" he gave a knowing half-smile, "I thought I shouldn't wait any longer."
Regina looked away for a moment, collecting her thoughts.
It was true that she had an army somewhere in this town, men and women who had been loyal to her before the curse. Some of them – like Berkley, it seemed – might be loyal to her still. When the curse had first broken, she had even considered sending for them. But then she'd had to deal with the wraith, with getting her magic back, with David and Ruby's continual interference in her life, and all thoughts of her knights had slipped away. By the time she'd thought of them again, she'd already promised Henry that she would try to be better, and summoning her army had not seemed like an acceptable move.
But that had been before Moe French and Leah and Stefan and her mother. She might need an army now; one that she could trust more than she could trust any of Mary Margaret and David's followers.
But could she trust Berkley?
"Keep and eye on Stefan and Leah," she ordered finally. "Don't – don't start anything with them. Don't engage. But report back to me on where they go, who they speak to. And," she smiled coolly, "do try not to be seen."
"Of course, your Majesty."
Regina watched Berkley walk away, unable to explain her growing unease.
Still, she could not dwell on that at the moment – she had a much more unpleasant task ahead of her.
She still wasn't sure why she had agreed to this. Probably because David had asked her in front of Henry, and it would have been difficult to refuse the request without sounding spiteful. And Henry, of course, would have taken his grandfather's side.
The charming prince was getting quite good at using her son against her.
She took a deep breath and crossed the street to Mary Margaret's apartment. David was waiting for her outside the building, and had seen the tail end of the conversation with Berkley.
"Who was that?" he asked, his tone half-concerned, half-suspicious.
"No one," Regina replied dismissively. David gave her a look of skepticism, but before he could question her further, she asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Of course!" was the immediate retort.
Regina sighed. "Fine. But there will be guards everywhere, and if we get caught, this will only add more fuel to the fire." She winced, regretting those particular words as soon they had left her mouth, but David didn't seem to notice. Or perhaps the unintentional reference to Leah and Stefan's house escaped him.
David's expression hardened. "I don't care," he said firmly. "I'm not leaving her alone." He wrapped his fingers around her arm, and gave a curt nod. "Take me to Mary Margaret."
The two of them disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.
They reappeared moments later inside the sheriff's station. True to Regina's warning, there were several guards there, standing in the outer room. They wore the insignia of Charles' kingdom, and they snapped to attention the moment the smoke had cleared. But they did not rush to attack, and instead looked warily between Regina and David.
David held his hands in front of him in a placating manner. "I just want to talk to my wife," he said. "That's all."
The lead guard, the one standing in front of the door to the office and the cells, blocking them from reaching Mary Margaret, jerked his head at Regina. "Then what is she doing here?"
"I needed some way to get past the mob outside," David replied. He glanced over his shoulder, and Regina followed his gaze. The heavy wooden doors blocked the view, but not the noise. She could hear the reverberation of angry footsteps and shouts.
She didn't know how many people were out there. By last count, it had been around 50. Some were yelling for the werewolf to be put down and others were demanding Mary Margaret be placed on trial for aiding and abetting a monster, but at least half of them were demanding the release of their beloved princess. Tension were running high. How much longer before violence erupted?
The lead guard nodded slowly, considering David's words. The fact that he was from Charles' kingdom boded well for David – or, at least, better than if he had been one of Stefan and Leah's loyal subjects. Whatever Charles might think of Mary Margaret and David now, they had been close friends in the past, and Charles' followers were likely to trust David.
But Regina could see the fear and loathing reflected in the guard's eyes when he looked at her.
David must have seen it, too, because he said, "Don't worry, she isn't going to cause any trouble."
Regina gave a brittle smile. "He's right," she said sweetly. "If I wanted to cause trouble, I would have already ripped your heart out."
The guard flinched.
"Regina!" David snapped.
"What?" Regina demanded. "I didn't even want to be here in the first place."
"You really shouldn't be here," the guard said slowly while his companions nodded their agreement. "The prisoners…" He stopped at David's sudden glare, and amended, "I mean, Snow and the werewolf… they are not to have any visitors."
David bristled, but instead of snapping back some angry response, he said softly, "Please. I just… I need to see her. She's my wife."
The guard's expression softened at the plea, but he still looked at Regina with apprehension.
David stepped forward. "I've got her," he said firmly. "Trust me."
"Got me?" Regina interjected disbelievingly. She flashed a sardonic smile. "Contrary to what you might think, dear, you don't control me." She folded her arms across her chest. "Or are you planning on trying to take my heart?"
David gave her a level look. "I already have your heart," he replied simply. "I have Henry."
Regina flushed hotly, anger flaring in her chest at his presumption, at his gall – and at how completely right he was.
She dropped her arms to her side and clenched her hands into fists. And did nothing.
The guard looked at her, looked at David, and then nodded once and stepped aside.
David hurried past him, and Regina trailed behind.
Mary Margaret jumped to her feet the moment she saw David. She rushed forward, reaching through the bars of the cell, and David was immediately there, grasping her hands tightly.
"David," she cried.
"We saw her," David said without preamble, not even sparing a glance for Ruby who had risen from her cot and was watching the exchange with interest. The words rushed out, tumbling together, "Emma. We saw her. She's alive. She's safe – for now, anyway. She's in Regina's castle."
Mary Margaret sagged against the cell bars. "Oh, thank God," she breathed. "How are we going to get her back?"
"We don't know yet," David admitted, "but we'll figure something out." He paused, dropping her hands and gesturing helplessly to the cells. "I'm sorry, I don't know how to get you out. I'm so sorry."
Mary Margaret smiled tiredly. "That's alright," she said. "We'll figure something out." She looked past David at Regina and added, "It was Cora. She framed me."
"Yes, dear," Regina drawled in a bored tone, "my mother and George. We discussed that suspicion of yours last time."
"It's not a suspicion anymore," Ruby interjected. "Cora visited us. She practically admitted to being behind it all."
Regina stepped forward. "My mother was here?" she demanded, worrying furrowing her brow. "What did she say? What did she want?"
"Mostly to gloat," Mary Margaret replied with a slight shrug. She hesitated, then added, "And she said that she would take away what I cared about the most. Because of… of something my mother had done."
Regina raised her eyebrows. "I see."
"Do you know what that was?" David questioned, turning to look at Regina.
Regina shook her head wordlessly. Unfortunately, she knew very little of her mother's secrets. Cora had never spoken of the past, only of the future, of her plans for greatness. Whatever history existed between Cora and Eva, Regina had never been privy to it.
But if an enmity existed between her mother and Mary Margaret's, could it be coincidence that such feeling had also existed between Snow and the Evil Queen?
As if reading her thoughts, Mary Margaret chose that moment to add apologetically, "She also… she talked about Daniel." Regina tensed, and Mary Margaret continued haltingly, "She said she… she already knew about him. That she had orchestrated things so that you would… you would blame me."
Regina pushed in between David and Mary Margaret and clutched at the bars, inches away from the younger woman's face. "Trying to dodge the blame again?" she sneered. "You can't even admit to doing anything wrong. Always looking for excuses."
"No! Regina, no," Mary Margaret said, shaking her head repeatedly as tears pooled in her eyes. "No. I know I should have kept your secret. I shouldn't have listened to your mother, shouldn't have trusted her. I'm not making an excuse for that. But… but don't you see? This still matters. If she knew about Daniel ahead of time, if she wanted you to blame me for it, then whatever she is planning now started a long time ago. And if this is all about my mother, then it even started before either of us."
"This is still about us," Regina retorted fiercely, refusing to listen. "You can't just shrug off everything like that. This is still about us!"
"Regina, please…"
Regina was dimly aware of David's hand on her arm, dragging her backwards, away from Mary Margaret. She wrenched out of his grip and whirled away from them both, her heart hammering in her chest.
It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Nothing her mother had or had not planned could change this. It was still about her and the self-centered brat who had stolen away her happy ending.
She closed her eyes and disappeared into purple smoke, desperate to get away from the sheriff's station.
David could find his own way out.
Katherine ran her fingers through her hair as she glanced around the local club. The irony of naming the place The Rabbit Hole was not lost on her. She wondered vaguely how many of the other establishments had borrowed their names from supposed fairytales. Had Regina picked out the names individually, or had the curse assigned them?
As she always did when thoughts of Regina invaded her mind, she forced herself to focus on something else. She did not want to think about the one-time queen, one-time mayor. She did not want to think about the friendship she'd thought they had, or the eventual betrayal.
A quick glance around the room showed her that Jim had not yet arrived for their date, so she headed over to one of the booths. Assuming he was probably still at work and running late, she pulled out her phone in case he tried to call and then sat down to wait.
"Katherine."
She glanced up to find Dr. Whale leaning against the other side of the booth, holding a drink in one hand and smiling at her. She hadn't heard him approach, and gave a half-hearted and startled smile, "Oh, hello…uh…" She trailed off, realizing she had no idea of his name, of who he had been before the curse.
"Victor," the doctor supplied. "Mind if I join you?"
"Oh, well, I'm waiting for Jim," Katherine answered. She held up her phone. "He should be here soon."
"Then I'll keep you company until he arrives," Whale said, and slid into the seat opposite her. He flipped a menu onto the table. "Are you going to order something?"
"When Jim gets here," Katherine replied, pushing away the menu. She was surprised at how clueless Whale seemed. Could the man really not take a hint?
"Did you come here much before the curse broke?" Whale asked, swirling his drink with one hand and looking around. "I did, once or twice – great scotch. Some pretty decent pool players, also. The music isn't quite to my taste…"
"Look, I don't mean to be rude," Katherine interrupted, irritation creeping into her voice, "but I'm really not looking for company."
Whale paused. "Oh," he said, his tone suddenly cold. He finished the remainder of his drink in one gulp and practically slammed the glass onto the table. "Sorry." He stood up. "I'll leave you to it, then."
Katherine watched him stalk away, and couldn't help but feel guilty, though she wasn't really sure why.
Pongo tugged at his leash.
Archie tightened his grip slightly and glanced over his shoulder to see what had gotten the dog's attention. The door to the Rabbit Hole flung open at that moment, and Dr. Whale came storming out, looking frustrated and – upset? The doctor paused for a moment, glancing behind him, and then slammed the door to the establishment shut and started walking briskly.
His path took him directly in front of Archie.
"Good evening, Dr. Whale," Archie said pleasantly.
"No, it's not," Whale muttered, and Archie caught a faint whiff of alcohol on his breath.
"What seems to be the problem?"
Whale stared at him blankly for a moment, then said with a sneer, "The town is unraveling at the seams. Or haven't you noticed that?"
"It's not that bad…"
"Not that bad?" Whale shook his head and gave a dry laugh. "Don't fool yourself, Hopper. The royals are squabbling with each other, trying to get as much power as they possibly can, and the rest of us will pay for it."
"That's not what's happening," Archie protested, frowning. "Regina's mother…"
"Who cares about her? Who cares about Regina? Why bother with either of them?" Whale demanded.
"You felt differently a few weeks ago," Archie replied softly, remembering Whale leading the angry mob as they charged up the steps towards Regina's house, ready to kill her. The curse had just broken and everyone was out for blood – and Whale more than most.
"Regina hasn't tried to take over the town again," Whale countered. "Can't say the same for Leah and Stefan or Mary Margaret and David."
"Mary Margaret and David are not trying to…"
"Open your eyes," Whale cut him off. The alcohol he had consumed had clearly loosened his tongue, and the words were pouring out now. "Mary Margaret and David are trying to turn Storybrooke back into their kingdom. They're trying to impose their beliefs, their way of life, their will, on us. But many of us aren't from their kingdom – some of us aren't even from that world!"
Those words brought Archie up short. He had a pretty good guess of who Whale had been before the curse, based on the one session he'd had with Regina after she'd been forced to use magic on her sort-of-alive fiancé. But it had never really occurred to him to wonder what the town was like for Whale, for someone who had no allegiance to any other person here.
He wondered how, if he were in Whale's position, he might view all of this.
But he also knew Mary Margaret and David, and firmly believed that they were only trying to do what was best for the town, and for the innocent people in danger.
"I know how this must seem from your point of view, but you never knew Snow or James, and…"
"You have no idea how this looks from my point of view because you're too blinded by your love of those two royals to see anything else," Whale snapped. "Albert Spencer, or whoever he was back in your world, may or may not have framed Ruby Lucas for the murder of some mouse-turned-human. Ruby may or may not have killed the flower guy, and Mary Margaret may or may not have helped her escape. They're all suspects. And they're all still fighting each other. And people are still dead!"
The argument had drawn the attention of several people, and a small crowd started to form. Archie tightened his grip on Pongo's leash as the dog's tail wagged frantically in excitement at all the people. But Archie wasn't excited – he was concerned. How many people who do something reckless, something rash, because of Whale's temper? The man had led an angry and possibly murderous mob once; would he do the same again?
And why did there have to be so many people wandering around after sundown in the middle of winter in Maine?
"Mary Margaret and David want peace and justice," Archie said, raising his voice to be heard by everyone listening. "This chaos is dangerous. People could get hurt – as you said, people have gotten hurt."
"Peace I have no problem with. But this isn't their land, and they don't get to decide what justice looks like," Whale answered flatly.
Before Archie could think of a response to that, Whale had already turned and walked away.
Leah swiveled around in the chair and gave her husband a pensive stare. "He mentioned Regina's mother?" she confirmed.
Stefan nodded. He leaned against the doorjamb, arms folded across his chest, and glowered. "He did. He's spouting the same lies as Snow and James."
Leah sighed and looked towards the window. Outside of town hall, the sky had grown dark. The stars and moon were hidden by the clouds, but the distant street lights illuminated the silhouettes of the buildings and trees that surrounded the place.
She twisted a few strands of red hair between her fingers, thinking.
"Snow and James have every reason to hate Regina," she said finally. "And Snow might forgive too easily, but James never did. I simply don't understand why they would work together now. I don't understand why any of Snow's loyal subjects would side with Regina."
"Gabriel – Christian – was not their loyal subject," Stefan countered. "For all we know, there was no connection between them at all." He paused, then added bitterly, "Besides Regina, of course."
"And he claimed not to know Regina well? Not to care about her?" Leah stood up and walked around the desk. "Did you believe him?"
Stefan considered this for a long moment, his expression one of indecision. Then he heaved a heavy sigh and said, "Truthfully? Yes, I do." Again, he paused, and then amended the statement, "At least, I believe that he does not know Regina well, though perhaps he knows her better than he lets on. And I believe that he is not currently working with her, and has no desire to start. But I didn't believe him when he said he didn't care about family – I still don't believe that."
"And he refused to talk about his father or his kingdom?" Leah pressed.
Stefan nodded grimly. "But there is a story there. I am convinced of that. Whatever it is, though…" He trailed off with a shrug. "Gabriel refuses to tell us. And I don't know who else to ask."
"Perhaps it isn't relevant," Leah suggested. She turned to look back at the window. She'd spent most of the day in the town hall, sorting through different papers. Storybrooke would not run itself, and given the chaos permeating the town at the moment, she knew it was vital that she not let anything slide.
But it wasn't easy. The curse – apparently having a sort of preservation clause – took care of some things, so at least she didn't have to worry overly much about food production or the procurement of other necessary supplies. But there was road maintenance, and pest control, and utilities and waste management, and environmental hazard rules and regulations, and countless other things that had fallen by the wayside since the curse had broken.
Having experience running a kingdom was helping, but she still wasn't familiar with several of the more… modern… issues. This was a different world with its own unique challenges, and the curse had not given her all the necessary skills for it.
She sighed. Her head ached and she was exhausted and they were no closer to ending the unrest now than they had been in the morning.
"Gabriel must have had contact with Regina, or possibly Snow and James," Stefan said. "One of them must have told him to spread the lies about Regina's mother."
Leah shook her head. "But he hasn't been spreading anything. If he was working with them, trying to perpetuate this, don't you think he would do more than hide in his house and refuse to talk to us? If he is on their side, his actions don't make sense."
"Perhaps he doesn't want people to think he is on their side," Stefan suggested, though his tone betrayed his doubt. He floundered for a moment, searching for something more to back up a theory he clearly did not believe, then said, "Perhaps he is not speaking for them so that people who don't trust Snow and James will trust him. He can gain their trust and spy on them."
"If he is acting as a spy, he should have agreed to talk to us," Leah countered, turning to face Stefan again. "He should be trying to gain our trust. His actions make it seem as though he just wants to be left alone."
Stefan nodded in reluctant agreement. "But then why bring up Cora? Why even mention her if he is not on their side?"
"I don't know," Leah answered honestly. She was about to say something more when the sudden burst of light behind her caught her attention and she spun around to the window.
And that's when she saw it.
It was a mob, and they were actually carrying pitchforks and torches. She had a brief, half-hysterical moment of wondering where people even found so many pitchforks in Storybrooke, and then Stefan was at her side, his expression stormy.
"What are those fools doing?" he snarled, and then he strode angrily from the room, towards the main doors to the building, Leah following at his heels. He reached the outer doors of town hall and shoved them open, and a blast of cold air hit Leah in the face. She blinked, momentarily surprised, and then opened her eyes to take in the sight of a mob surrounding them, blocking them from leaving.
Her eyes landed on the burning torches, flames crackling and sparks leaping into the air, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran down her spine.
"What is the meaning of this?" Stefan thundered.
"We want you to stop trying to run the town!"
"Let Snow free. You have no right to imprison people. You aren't king here!"
"We don't want your laws! We don't want to follow you!"
"You don't get to tell us what to do!"
"Stop hurting us with your petty fights with the others. Stop pulling us into your personal battles!"
"You were never my king!"
The answers came all at once, a cacophony of shouted replies. Leah composed her face into an impassive expression, trying not to show her fear as the crowd pressed in more closely, invading her space.
"Enough!" Stefan bellowed, holding his hands up as though to silence the crowd. "We are only trying to maintain order."
"You don't have the right!"
"I don't want your order!"
"You're not doing a particularly good job of it!"
The last comment was a shouted sneer, and Leah cast her gaze out over the crowd to see who had spoken. But in the flickering light and shadows of the torches, she could not distinguish one face from the next.
She inhaled the acrid scent of smoke, and curled her hands into fists, driving her nails into her palms as though the temporary pain could keep her mind in the present and far away from the past.
"Listen," Stefan said, trying to sound reasonable, yet failing to keep the irritation out of his voice, "please. We want to hear your concerns – we do. But we all need to stay calm. There has already been enough anger, enough retaliation, enough violence, in this town. Let's please not add to it."
There was a resounding cry of responses, but all the words blended together and Leah could hear nothing but the overwhelming anger coming from these people. Then, over the shouts of others, she and Stefan both heard someone accuse, "You're unlawfully imprisoning people!"
Leah answered the accusation before Stefan could, demanding tersely, "What have Snow and James done for you since the curse broke? Tell me what they have done to help you! Tell me what they have done to make you think that they care about anything but themselves!"
"They're better than you ever were!"
"They care about us!"
Leah gritted her teeth at the immediate, unthinking responses. These fools were too naïve, too blinded by adoration, to see that James and Snow were not the heroes their loyal followers believed them to be.
Then someone shouted, "I don't want them, either! I don't want any of you!"
The cry was immediately joined by several others, echoing the same sentiment – "You're all ruining Storybrooke!" and "Why should we care about your trivial lives?" – until finally someone shouted, "Down with the king!"
The crowd surged forward then, forcing Stefan and Leah backwards, into the building. At the last possible moment, Stefan dragged the door shut and forced the lock into place, keeping the mob out, and effectively trapping the two of them inside.
Leah stumbled, white-faced and shocked, to the nearest seat. Sinking onto the bench that was pushed up against the wall of the hallway, she drew a shaky breath and nearly choked on a panic-stricken laugh.
This was different. They'd faced down several angry crowds in the past, both before the curse was cast and after it was broken, but this…
In the past, they'd been able to appease people with careful words, or calm them with promises and – on rare occasions – with threats. Occasionally the people wanted to be able to vent about the pain and hardship in their lives, and Stefan and Leah would listen and allow the abuse to be heaped upon them because the people just needed to be able to blame another for their problems.
But there had always been some level of rational, logical thought involved – or, failing that, some level of civility.
This was different. This mob was out for blood. This mob wanted the violence, not the solutions.
Leah looked up and met Stefan's worried gaze.
Everything had just gotten worse.
David came storming into the house.
Regina was ready for him, though, and merely offered a cool smile as he entered. Henry was upstairs again, hiding in his bedroom, and although his sulking was worrying Regina quite a bit, it at least meant that she did not need to worry about him overhearing the brewing argument.
David looked weary. She didn't know how long he had stayed at the sheriff's station to talk to Mary Margaret and Ruby, and she didn't know how challenging it had been for him to leave the station with the crowd still surrounding the place. But she could tell from the exhaustion in his eyes and the anger in his stance that it hadn't been easy.
"You can't just run away every time you don't like something we say!" David snarled.
"I figured it out," Regina said lazily, holding his gaze from her position on her white armchair and crossing one leg over the other. "You've realized that we can't reach Miss Swan without me."
David gave her a nonplussed look.
"You suspected it before – we both did. Neither of us truly believed that the Mother Superior and Sidney would be able to reach Miss Swan without me, and yesterday only proved that concern to be valid. They can barely hold the connection."
"We'll figure something out," David said staunchly, eyes fixed on her face.
Regina raised an eyebrow. "Really, dear? I don't think either of us believe it is so simple." She smiled sweetly – and continued to stare at him with a malevolent gleam in her eyes. "Of course, it isn't just that you need me. It's that we don't need you. You aren't going to help us reach Miss Swan – you don't have the magic for it. You're irrelevant."
"What's your point?" David asked tiredly, his expression pinched with pain.
"It kills you, doesn't it?" Regina murmured, leaning forward. "You can't rescue Miss Blanchard from jail, no matter how hard you try, and you can't save your daughter. And that's your job, isn't it? As a husband, a father… a hero?" She practically sneered the last word. "You are supposed to keep your loved ones safe, and you're failing at it."
David looked away for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
Regina rose to her feet. "And that is why you have made a point of using Henry against me. You ask me for favors in front of him, knowing I'll be forced to agree. You threaten to tell him secrets if I don't tell you what you want to know. You remind me that you have my son, that he practically worships you." David met her gaze without flinching, and without denying the accusation. Regina almost laughed at the defiance in his steady look, but said instead, "You have my child, dear – but you need me to retrieve yours."
David let out a breath. "Are you threatening not to help?" he asked sharply.
Regina dismissed the concern with a casual wave of her fingers. "Don't be so suspicious."
David laughed harshly at that. "Why shouldn't I be suspicious? Why should I trust you?" He searched Regina's face for a moment, looking for something there. He must not have found it, though, because he huffed impatiently and snapped, "Would you be doing any of this if it wasn't for Henry?"
Regina didn't answer the question – she didn't have to; they both knew what she would say.
"I hoped when you first promised Henry that you were going to try to be better, you might actually start doing the right thing simply because it was right," David said after a momentary pause. "But I can see that was naïve of me. So, failing a sudden change of heart on your part…" He gave a dispassionate shrug. "You have magic, and no compunction against killing people, or ripping their hearts out. You have many, many ways you can control us. I'm merely trying to level the playing field a bit."
"By sinking to the level of the Evil Queen? Using a child against his mother isn't very heroic, is it?"
"I thought we already established that I was failing at being a hero," David retorted sarcastically, though his acerbic tone did little to hide the pain behind his words. He gestured between the two of them impatiently, and said, "This doesn't change anything."
Regina gave him a thoughtful look. Snow had been a naïve child, and had hardly been any more sufferable as an adult. Mary Margaret had lacked Snow's courage, but not her gullibility. And David had been little more than a weak fool, a man so desperate not to hurt anyone that he ended up letting down everyone.
But Charming…
Charming had been different. Charming had been willing to do whatever was necessary to protect those he loved. The ridiculous notions of good and evil – of second chances and redemption – that Snow had so childishly clung to had not meant quite as much to her beloved prince.
Suspicion and distrust were things Regina understood. Charming was someone Regina understood.
"Perhaps it should change things," Regina replied. "Perhaps now that we understand exactly where the other is coming from, we should…"
"Should what? Trust each other?" David interjected almost mockingly. "Should I trust that you will help Emma out of the goodness of your heart? That seems unlikely."
"I'm not saying that you should trust me," Regina answered very softly. "But when it comes to Miss Swan, dear… perhaps, you should trust that I love Henry more than I hate any of you."
David stared at her for a long moment, and then finally, reluctantly, nodded. "Yes," he said at last, "I do at least trust that."