Chapter Eighty-Five—"Loopholes and Proposals"

"Hey, Emma," Henry greeted her breezily as Emma fought with the waffle maker the next morning. Her own mother made this look so easy, but somehow she'd managed to burn the first three waffles into particularly crumbly hockey pucks, and she wasn't about to ruin the fourth.

Still, Henry's optimism always made her smile, so Emma twisted to face him. "Morning," she said. "You sleep okay?"

"Yeah, after a really boring evening spent playing with a three year old," her son complained, giving her a pointed look.

"Hey, it keeps you safe, kid. Don't argue."

Emma's heart wanted to twist into a knot every time she even thought about Henry being in danger. Only five days had passed since she'd had to wake him up from a Nightmare Curse, and Emma was not going to let anything like that happen again. Nevermind her own feelings about Henry, or the fact that her dad was also Henry's adopted dad. They were going to rescue Regina as soon as they could, and if even a hair on Henry's head was singed, Regina would go absolutely bonkers when she woke up.

Still, it would be really good to get Regina back. Emma had become friends with her as much as she'd befriended Mary Margaret, maybe more. She missed her friend. Regina had always been good for a laugh, and she was important to Henry. She could also help them kick Cora into next week, and Emma was already more than ready for that to happen. It's only a matter of time before Cora goes after Henry, Emma knew. She'd spent a long time in denial on that front, but the fact that Cora had been willing to curse her own adopted grandson ended any delusions Emma might have had on that front. Henry was in danger so long as Cora was alive, and Emma was more than willing to help end the bitch as soon as possible.

"I can help," Henry proceeded to argue, despite what Emma had just said. "I know these things better than you do, and I know the Book inside out. I can help. Please don't make me get babysat by Dove again."

"Gold's house is the safest place," Emma protested.

"Except for the fact that Gold can get inside it," her too-smart child retorted. "I'll be safe when the Evil Queen goes down. Not before. I helped break the curse!"

"Henry…"

"Fine," he cut her off, his expression mulish. "Is there something else you want to tell me, then?"

The sudden shift in topic left Emma reeling a little, and there was something in Henry's eyes that set off alarms in her head. He can't know, the voice of common sense said. He's fishing. He knows I'm keeping something from him, and he's fishing. Nothing else.

"Why would there be?" she said evasively.

Henry crossed his arms and glared. "I think I inherited your superpower, Mom."

He just called me 'Mom'. Emma's heart did a backflip; this was only the second time Henry had ever called her that, and she didn't even think he realized that he had. Warmth stole through her, tearing her guard down and almost making her blurt out the truth. Barely catching herself in time, Emma tried to restrain the utterly stupid grin on her face and answered as honestly as she dared:

"Look, I can't tell you right now, okay? But the moment I can, I will. I promise."

"Secrets get people hurt in this town," Henry pointed out wisely.

"I know," Emma replied, reaching out to wrap an arm around him protectively. "And we'll tell you as soon as we can."

"Who's 'we'?"

Emma groaned. "No hints!"

Henry pouted, but she held firm. I need to talk to Neal, Emma realized, ignoring the way that thought made her heart beat a little faster. Soon.

Snow had spent hours crying, but when she left the room she and David shared, her back was straight and her eyes were clear. She would mourn Johanna, who had been like a mother to her, by defeating Cora. That was the best way to honor her old nursemaid—not by burying herself in David's arms and sobbing her soul out. She had to be strong. There was an entire town depending on her leadership to get through this crisis, and Snow would not let them down.

"No more," she said quietly to David, who squeezed her hand. "No one else dies because of Cora."

"We'll stop her," her husband agreed.

He didn't have to tell her that it was a nearly impossible promise to keep; Snow knew that. But they still made that vow, together, because they would do their best to save Storybrooke. No matter what it took.

The part-demon stared at Rumplestiltskin with unsettling eyes, but he couldn't feel her digging into his psyche, which was a small blessing. Zelena, thinking it would be rather amusing, had forbidden him from using magic to defend himself from the Jabberwocky, and Cora had refused to contradict the order. That left him at the fear-mongering creature's mercy, and just the thought of having Jabber rattling around in his subconscious was enough to make Rumplestiltskin's skin crawl.

Not that there wasn't plenty in his life these days to make his skin crawl. Being stuck in a cage and utterly defenseless was enough to tear him to shreds, but Rumplestiltskin summoned up all of his anger and self-control to force himself to look the Jabberwocky in the eye. Make her yours, his curse whispered uselessly. Then you need fear her no more. Pushing his inner voice aside, Rumplestiltskin rasped: "Here to visit the zoo, dearie?"

That sounded much more vulnerable than he'd meant it to, but Rumplestiltskin tried to hide his fears with a scowl and a dark look, pulling on his curse to give himself some semblance of strength.

"No," the strange woman answered softly. "I want to make a deal, Dark One."

"I'm hardly in a position to keep one at the moment," he spat with more vitriol than he should have.

The Jabberwocky shrugged. "Neither am I. And for a very similar reason," she smiled without humor, her dark eyes more human than he'd ever seen them. "So, I propose we help one another."

"An exchange, if possible," Rumplestiltskin breathed. This he had not expected, but the idea was a welcome one. Jabber might have a better chance of getting the kris dagger than anyone, and if she did—and did not keep it—he might have his freedom without waiting for Cora to break their deal.

"Yes," she answered simply. "My freedom for yours, or vice versa. In my case, all you need do is get the Vorpal Blade to me, and I will take Cora's sanity from her bit by bit—and your dagger with it."

"My methods may be less artistic, but you can be certain that I'll do the same if you are able to return the dagger to me."

"Then we have an accord." For the first time, Jabber looked a little hopeful. Rumplestiltskin was more of a realist, but even he felt the odd stirrings of possibility in this deal.

"That we do."

Zelena waited until the day after her mother's gathering to go visit the old sheriff; first, she had to get a healing potion out of the Dark One, and that meant getting him away from her mother long enough to have him brew the thing. Mother had been particularly—and understandably!—angry at Rumplestiltskin, which meant Zelena had to wait. But she was quite all right with that. It gave her time to have a lovely dinner with Jafar in Granny's pitiful little diner, and the two of them had a lovely time scaring the peasants. They'd ripped the heart out of one of the waitresses and made her torment her lover mercilessly, which had proven very entertaining. Jafar had even told her the story of his mentor, who he had turned into the beautiful snake staff he now carried, and Zelena found that utterly thrilling.

But now she had to get down to business. Jafar had offered to come along, but Zelena knew that Mother would not approve, so she had declined. She was perfectly capable of terrifying a cripple by herself, after all, and it might even be fun. Besides, what can a non-magic user whose heart mother has do?

She appeared in Graham's living room without bothering to knock on the front door, making the former sheriff look up at her with a resigned expression.

"I figured you'd show up eventually," he said with a sigh.

"Don't look so put out, doll. I've got a potion that will heal you," Zelena retorted, miffed.

"At what cost?" Graham countered.

"Your obedience, of course. Mother can force you, but she'd prefer you to be on your best behavior."

"No."

Zelena had been stepping forward, ready to hand him the potion, but the flat refusal stopped her cold. "You don't have a choice," she said, slightly befuddled.

"No, I don't," the scruffy-looking man said with a shrug, lounging back in his wheelchair and staring at her with dead eyes. "What's Cora going to do, kill me? She can force me to do whatever she wants, but I'm done betraying my friends just based on the fact that she could make me." He scowled. "Go bully someone else."

"You can't do that!"

"Sure I can," Graham shrugged again. "I just did."

He'd tried to talk to Emma after the war council, but things had gotten busy by the time they'd all finished talking about how they were going to pop Cora into Jefferon's hat and dump her in Neverland. Someone had come to Granny's to report that Bo Peep was starting to charge protection money, terrorizing shop keepers and demanding a share of their profits to keep her bully boys away. That had made David head out immediately, since apparently they had a history. Emma, of course, had gone with him—she was the sheriff—and Bae had been left trying to help Snow when she needed to mediate a dispute between Prince Thomas' father and King Midas. Then Zelena and Jafar had waltzed into the diner, which led to all kinds of shenanigans, and had promptly ruined any chance Baelfire had of pinning Emma down that night.

So, he'd settled for stopping by the Sheriff's Station after breakfast that morning, hoping Emma would be in and—for once—by herself. He knew she was busy, but they had a hell of a lot of things to talk about, and he really didn't want to do this with an audience. Fortunately, no one was there, even Henry, and that made Bae a lot more comfortable.

"Hey," he said, ducking inside.

"Hi." Was it his imagination, or did Emma actually smile when he came in? Bae hoped he wasn't imagining things; he'd loved this girl like crazy once, and he would have had to lie to himself to say that he didn't still. How Emma felt about him now, after everything that had happened, was anyone's guess.

"Quiet day so far?"

"Mostly. I let Moe French go a few hours ago, and he seemed pretty happy about it. So, now no more prisoners, at least until we figure out how to catch a few of the bad guys."

"Who's Moe French?" Bae had to ask.

"Your, uh…step grandfather?" Emma gestured vaguely. "Families in this town are so weird. He's Belle's dad."

"Oh. I didn't know she had one. I mean, still had one." Stumbling over his words like this made him scowl, but Emma snickered. "Oh, you know what I mean! What was he in jail for?"

"Beating the snot out of your dad," she answered bluntly, and Bae blinked. "I'm surprised Belle didn't tell you. Moe and another guy—Tony Rose under the curse; I have no idea who he actually was—got sent by Cora to shitkick your father. They really did a number on him, at least until he or Belle brought magic here and Gold healed himself."

"Oh." Damn, a lot of things had happened here, hadn't they? Bae felt like he was playing a game where only half the rules were available at one time, and he was really getting sick of not knowing things. Still, he was here for a purpose, and learning about what had happened really didn't change that. Even if it is just one more thing that tells me Cora and Pop have some really nasty history between them. I've got to ask Belle about that.

"So, uh, what brings you by?" Emma asked, coming around from behind her desk to perch on its edge. Bae moved forward to meet her a little nervously, but at least she was still smiling. "Not that it's not good to see someone else who gets how weird this place is."

"Tell me about it," he breathed. "I mean, I grew up in the Enchanted Forest until I was almost fifteen, but even that was nothing like this."

Emma laughed. "Modern appliances and all that making it hard to merge the two?"

"Something like that." It's now or never, he told himself firmly. Pony up and talk to the girl, or go home. "Anyway, look, do you have a few? There's something I wanted to talk about."

"We're already talking."

"You know what I mean," Bae grumbled, but her teasing took him back eleven years to when a happy ending had actually seemed possible, and his crazy life had had meaning. He'd wanted to marry her so badly back then, had half of their life together planned out in his head. Could he convince Emma to take the plunge now? First things first. "Look, I talked to Belle. She's got the contract Cora signed, and it says that anyone related by blood to my dad is safe, which means Henry's safe."

"He is?" Emma asked the question like all the air had been sucked out of her chest, but her eyes were wide with hope.

"Yeah. If Cora goes after him at all, Pop gets the dagger back and he'll flatten her in a nanosecond." Bae knew that like he knew his own name. Family had always been the most important thing in the world for his father, and from what Bae could tell, that hadn't changed at all. The moment his dad knew that Henry was his grandson, he would move mountains to keep him safe.

"I'll cheer him on," she replied immediately, and he could see the way relief suddenly made her slump.

"Me, too," he admitted, thinking back on all the times he hadn't wanted his father to hurt someone. This is different, Bae told himself. This will protect everyone, and Cora damn well deserves it.

"Thank you," Emma said quietly, and Bae found that she met his smile with her own. It was awkward, this thing between them; it was like electricity that worked in fits and starts, mostly when they weren't paying attention. He could see that she was alternately comfortable with him and sometimes wanted to be mad at him, and Bae could get that. Really, he could. But there was still something there, something powerful and deep.

"Hey, he's my kid, too," he answered.

"You want to tell him, now?" She could still read him like a book.

"Yeah. You okay with that?"

"He deserves to know," Emma said, meeting Bae's eyes. His heart skipped a beat, and damn it all if he didn't want to blurt his feelings out then and there. I still love you, almost slipped right out, but he managed to bite his tongue in time. "Besides, he's a lot like you. And if we leave it too long, he's going to guess."

"You're going to have to tell your parents, too, you know," he pointed out, but Emma only shrugged.

"It's not like they don't already know I wasn't married to Henry's dad," she pointed out. "Nothing new there. The only difference is that they know you, and at least you made a good introduction when you brought David's heart over. They might even be happy, though they'll probably ask when we're getting back together."

She didn't quite grimace when she said that, and the wild stab of hope that hit Bae's heart was probably the reason he blurted out:

"We could, you know."

Emma's eyes went huge, and she looked like she'd swallowed a fish. "What? Neal, I—I mean, so much has changed and we haven't seen each other in a decade. I…I don't even know what to say to that."

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean for it to come out so bluntly, but hear me out, okay?"

"This isn't really a very romantic way to ask me on a date."

"I'm not. Not really, anyway. Unless you want to?" Bae knew he sounded pathetic, but damn it all, he felt like he was wearing his heart on his sleeve right now.

"Neal."

"Look, I get it. It's been a long time, but I was crazy about you," he said quickly. "I still am. I know I was a coward, and I let August call the cops on you. I'll never be able to apologize enough for that, and if you want nothing to do with me because of it, I'll shut up and leave you alone."

"I don't want you to go away," Emma replied, the words so quiet that he could barely hear them. They still made his heart pound faster in his chest, even as she crossed her arms and looked at him levelly. "But this is no time for romance, all right? Talk to me about it once Cora goes down."

He couldn't let himself get distracted by hope, by the fact that Emma might actually want to get back together, given half a chance. Instead, he took the plunge and went on: "That's the point, though. Maybe we shouldn't wait. The contract protects anyone related to my dad by blood or marriage."

"Are you asking me to marry you, Neal Cassidy?" his ex-girlfriend gaped.

"Um, technically I guess I'm Baelfire now, and yeah, this is kind of the least romantic proposal ever," he shrugged as casually as he could. "But it would keep you safe, and your parents, too. Cora wants you all dead, but the magic will slap her in the ass if she goes after any of you. If we're married."

That finally seemed to shock Emma into silence, and ten long seconds ticked by without her saying a word. She just stared at him, eyes wide and a little frightened.

"It can just be on paper, if you want," Bae said softly. "You don't owe me anything. But I want to keep you safe more than anything in the world."

Yeah, if his heart hadn't been on his sleeve before, it pretty much was living there now, and Bae knew that his feelings would have been obvious to a blind man.

"Neal—Baelfire—whoever you are," she stuttered. "Can I…can I think about it? I don't know what to say."

"Of course you can." Biting his lip, Bae stepped forward and took her hand, praying she wouldn't pull away.

She didn't. Emma just looked away for a moment, and then squeezed his fingers. Hard.

"Let's start by telling Henry, okay? Then we'll see how things go."

She didn't say no, was all he could think as he nodded, and the pair headed out to find their son.

Seeing Robin at the war council had made a thought occur to Belle, so she spent the next morning rummaging through the shop while Baelfire entertained his younger sister. Gabi was growing more and more cranky the longer Rumplestiltskin was gone, but Bae had a good touch with cheering her up, which meant Belle didn't feel too guilty leaving them home alone. Besides, once she found the bow, it turned out to be a pretty quick trip across town in the Cadillac.

Fortunately, Belle had been to this apartment a few times back when she'd been Lacey, arranging playdates between Jamie/Roland and Renee/Gabrielle, which meant she wasn't knocking on the wrong door with a cloth-wrapped longbow in hand. That would be a little awkward to explain, she thought with a smile, waiting. Finding things to smile about grew harder and harder as time wore on, but she was determined to make a difference. Jefferson had promised to take Bae to Neverland to catch the lay of the land sometime in the next few days, but Belle was going to do her part, too.

"Belle," Robin answered the door with a surprised smile. "What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," she reassured him. "And I can't stay long. But I wanted to give you this."

She extended the bow, which wasn't strung at the moment and was wrapped in linen. Either Rumplestiltskin or the curse had stored it that way; Belle had found it in a chest that was buried under a load of musical instruments from the Land Without Magic. So far as she knew, Rumple had never noticed it down there, but she was sure he wouldn't mind what she had planned.

If he does, I'll apologize, she thought with a familiar pang of longing. After we get him back.

Robin accepted the package, his eyes wide. "Is this…?"

"I thought you might make good use of it," Belle replied, making herself smile. "After all, an arrow from that bow always finds its target, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but...I lost this fair and square." Robin was kind enough to mention that he'd also almost been skinned alive in the immediate aftermath of losing said bow, but Belle remembered.

"And now I'm giving it back," she said. "You might need it, and a magical bow doesn't do any good buried in the back of the shop."

"I promise I'll use it well," the outlaw said, meeting her eyes. "And…thank you. I owe you both now, probably more than I can ever repay."

Belle blinked. "Both?"

"I didn't say it in the council, but it was your husband who told me where Regina is. Anyone who thinks he's working for Cora is an idiot," he replied. "If I can help you free him in any way, I will."

"Thank you," Belle whispered, her throat suddenly thick, and Robin reached out to squeeze her arm.

"Thank you."

Cora hadn't appreciated Rumplestiltskin's cleverness until she realized that in the five days since the curse had broken, she had kept herself away from everyone in town. Had he done that on purpose, provoking her ire and keeping her occupied? Cora wasn't sure if Rumple was noble enough to do that, but she supposed he might be hoping to keep her away attention from his family. The man really was stupidly protective over his offspring in particular, and she knew from watching that war council that Baelfire had turned out to be annoyingly intelligent. So, she wouldn't be terribly surprised if Rumple was doing his best to shield them, but it was having the second order effect of keeping her from showing off her power to the rest of the town, too.

She would fix that today, of course, which was why Cora, Zelena, and Rumplestiltskin had teleported straight into the center of town. Zelena had quite happily taken out her frustration on some foolish girl with extremely long hair, making her run away screaming after only a few moments. Cora, however, had bigger plans in mind—and none of them involved letting Storybrooke see Rumplestiltskin resisting her commands.

Some of them think that he's on my side willingly, she thought with a smile. Let them believe that. It means none of them are going to want to free him, and by the time the realize that he's the only one who could stop me, it will be far too late.

"Zelena, dearest, would you find Mr. Clark for me?" she asked her elder daughter, admiring the way Zelena's blue eyes filled with bloodlust.

"Gladly, Mother."

A cloud of green smoke swirled, and then Zelena was gone—undoubtedly appearing in the Dark Star Pharmacy even now. Cora did not need to watch her to know where she went; she was far more interested in the calculating gleam in Rumple's dark eyes. He's not broken yet, she knew. And I don't want him crushed. I want him angry, and then he'll remember what he should be, not the pathetic lapdog he has become.

"Haven't you heard, Rumple?" she purred. "Our dear Mr. Clark tried to cross the town line shortly after you destroyed town hall."

Said building was in shambles behind them, and it looked far better as a pile of rubble than it ever had as town hall, Cora decided. She would rebuild it once her power was solidified, perhaps as a modern castle to remind the peons who ruled here.

"So?" Rumplestiltskin asked, sounding bored.

"Well, it seems that all magic comes at a price, as you're so fond of saying," she chuckled. "Now that the curse is broken, anyone who crosses the town line reverts to their cursed self. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Indeed."

Her pet was wearing his best Dark One face, showing the world just how little he cared. Cora really did admire that about him; Rumplestiltskin could radiate power without even trying, and he was certainly doing that now. Along with showing the worthless peasants how unimportant they are, Cora thought happily. He'd come around. Even if he hated her, he'd return to the man he was meant to be. I don't need his love, Cora knew. I'll have the dagger, and Rumple will serve me if he likes it or not. But he'll come to enjoy the darkness once more. That much I know. Once he did, she'd be able to get him to do away with his little wife willingly, and wouldn't that be delicious?

Zelena appeared again, Clark—formerly Sneezy—firmly in her grip and squirming. The dwarf turned pharmacy owner looked terrified, and who could blame him? His narrow little mind didn't understand magic or teleporting. The other dwarves had been shielding him from the truth since he'd crossed the line, which only made this more delicious.

So did the fact that a cautiously terrified crowd was peeking out from side streets and shop windows, there to watch the show.

"Mr. Clark," Cora said politely, nodding at Zelena. "How are you doing, dear?"

"Mayor—Mayor Mills," Clark replied shakily, and then sneezed. Taking a quick step back, Cora ran magic over herself to make sure he hadn't contaminated her. This is why I avoid dwarves. They're universally disgusting. "What…what can I do for you?"

"You can die, of course."

"What?"

Cora kept her pleasant smile in place. "You tried to leave town, Mr. Clark. Not that you remember it. But no one leaves Storybrooke without my permission, and now you'll pay the price for trying."

To her left, Rumplestiltskin shifted a little; she couldn't tell if he was impatient or uneasy, but Cora kept a good grip on the dagger just to be certain. She held it in her left hand, right where Rumple could see it and be constantly reminded of his status. Fortunately, he didn't try anything—she'd already told him what would happen if he tried to interfere, and Rumple did so hate her punishments.

"Look, lady, I don't know what kind of drugs you're on, but you're crazy," Clark stuttered, staring at her with owlish eyes. "I'm not dying anytime soon."

Zelena giggled before Cora could respond. "Of course you are, munchkin. You're already dead. You just don't know it yet."

There were times when her elder daughter really got on Cora's nerves, but she didn't let that show on her face. Particularly since Clark twisted to face Zelena and said:

"You need some serious psychological help. I hear Doctor Hopper has a two-for-one spec—"

The word cut off in a gurgle as Cora's right hand came up, collapsing Clark's windpipe. She might be annoyed with Zelena from time to time, but no one was allowed to speak her daughter like that. Cora had intended to rip out Clark's heart, but choking him to death would work just as well, and she smiled as the dwarf's hands raced to his throat, his cheeks sucking in hollowly as he struggled to breathe.

Watching him die was rather therapeutic, and Cora waited until Clark was a cooling corpse on the ground before turning to the crowd that was trying very hard to pretend they weren't there.

"Would anyone else like to defy me?" she asked sweetly, and the smart ones ran away. One, however, did not.

"You can't kill us all," the red-haired former mermaid declared, even as another one of the girls from the Basement tried to pull her away. Was that Aurora trying to save Ariel? Cora had such a hard time keeping the various annoying princesses straight.

Cora swung to face her, smiling congenially. "I don't want to kill everyone, dear. Only those who deserve it."

"He didn't deserve to die!" Ariel snapped.

"Well, clearly our opinions differ," she replied, shrugging. Then Cora let her smile vanish and her voice grow cold. "How is your dear True Love, anyway?"

Ariel rocked back like Cora had physically slapped her, heartbreak written plainly on her face. Recovering from Eric's loss must have taken all the strength she had—and probably copious therapy with the cricket—but now Cora could see the pain rearing up again. And oh, it was so very sweet.

"You're a monster," Aurora whispered, her face sheet white.

"No, just the Queen. And I don't forgive my enemies," Cora corrected her, her head held high. Then she looked Ariel once again, getting in before the mermaid could try to gather her wits. "I haven't forgotten your friendship with my stepdaughter, dear," she added softly. "You might want to remember that."

She would let Ariel stew over that for a while; clearly, the mermaid hadn't learned from her first punishment, so Cora would have to administer another. But this one could wait. She'd already killed one traitor publically, and eliminating more than one in the same day would be crass. Besides, she had other plans for Ariel.

Emma had called him down to the Sheriff's Station, and when Henry walked in to see Baelfire there with her, he knew she was finally going to fess up. Or at least he hoped she was. For all he knew, their great big secret could have been something else, but he was pretty sure that he was right. So, Henry spent a couple of minutes spying on his birth mom and the guy he thought might be his dad, watching them laughing about something.

"How can you watch this show?" Emma asked as Henry eavesdropped, gesturing at the T.V.

"You turned it on."

"You said you liked it."

"No, I said the last episode was decent. That's a far cry from liking a show. It's a soap opera, Emma. What the hell makes you think that I like those?"

His birth mom grinned. "I dunno. You've always been kind of weird."

"Geez, I didn't think I was that weird," Baelfire retorted, and then shrugged. "My ex-girlfriend was addicted to it, okay?"

"Likely excuse," Emma shot back, but it was obvious that neither of them was going to say anything useful, so Henry closed the door loudly behind himself and stepped into the main room of the station.

"Hey, Emma. Hey, Bae. You guys wanted to talk to me?" he said cheerfully, acting like he'd just walked in.

Immediately, the two adults exchanged a loaded look, their good humor fading. Now both looked nervous, and Emma seemed unable to find words. Baelfire spoke up after a moment.

"Yeah, um, you want to sit down?"

"Sure," Henry smiled, and plopped into a nearby chair. Adults were so funny sometimes; both of them looked like they didn't know what to say. "So…is this where the big terrible secret comes out?"

"It's not terrible," Emma said quickly, and Henry tried not to smile. "It's actually, um, kind of good. Though we should have told you sooner."

"A lot sooner," Baelfire agreed. "And it's my fault that we didn't. So, whatever happens, and however mad you might be, don't blame Emma for this, okay? It was my idea."

Wow, he's got it bad, Henry thought, realizing with a start that not only was Baelfire his father, but he still had the hots for his mom, too. Maybe they'll get back together! he thought excitedly. That would be so cool.

"Only the last five days of it or so," his birth mom said, turning to give her ex (he had to be her ex) an annoyed look.

Oh, man, they were about to start arguing over whose fault it was, weren't they? Henry really didn't have patience for that, even if it could be fun to watch, so he finally just decided to speak up. "I figured it out already."

"Huh?" Baelfire gaped, even as Emma yelped:

"What?"

"I mean, it's pretty obvious. He's my dad, right?" he asked Emma, and watched her eyes go wide as doorknobs.

Baelfire, however, was the one who answered. "Yeah. I am." He bit his lip, and then looked Henry straight in the eye. "There is one thing I want you to understand before we go any further. It's not Emma's fault, but I didn't know about you before now. If I had, I never would have let you go. Or I'd have been here a lot sooner."

"Emma told me you didn't know," Henry confirmed, remembering their conversation months earlier.

"No, I didn't. But I wish I had," his birth father answered, looking sad. Part of Henry had thought that he didn't need a dad—he had David, after all—but he hadn't really thought that he needed two moms, either, and having both Emma and Regina was one of the best parts of his life, now. Or at least it will be once we can find Mom, he thought, swallowing back pain. Emma said that Robin Hood (it was so cool that Errol Forrester was actually the Robin Hood) knew where Regina was and they were going to do their best to save her, but that didn't mean Henry wasn't still worried sick.

Still, maybe having two dads could be really cool. David was a lot more like a grandpa now, anyway; he was really different now that the curse was broken, and sometimes Henry had a hard time connecting his cursed, timid, and indecisive father with the brave king who was his grandfather. So, having Baelfire as his dad could be really cool, and it meant that he had even more family than he'd ever thought, including a step-grandmother and an aunt who he'd been reading his Book to just a few days ago. Not to mention a grandfather who might or might not be evil, but at least isn't as bad as Cora. And Mr. Gold was always nice to me, too, Henry thought before giving Baelfire a half smile.

"It's okay. I mean, you still owe me ten years' worth of birthday presents and all, but Emma hasn't ponied up on those, either, so I guess you're in good company," he said lightly, and both adults burst out laughing.

Getting to know a parent you should have known your entire life was hard and weird, but Henry was getting pretty good at it by now. And he really did want more presents, but what ten year old didn't?

This time, the evil sorceress was at least polite enough to knock on his door. Having one just appear in the middle of his apartment was certainly more convenient when he was stuck in a wheelchair, but apparently no one cared what Graham thought of that. So, he wheeled himself over to the door and pulled it open, surprised to see the owner of the ice cream shop there instead of Cora's crazy daughter.

"Well, you're not who I expected," he said as philosophically as he could.

"I'm sorry," Sarah Fisher said sadly. "I had to make sure you were at home."

He recognized that vacant look, the despair in her eyes and the way her hands kept twitching like she burned to stop herself. Graham had worn that himself many times, had tried to fight the compulsion of someone holding his heart and had too often found he could not. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to speak as casually as he could. Whoever 'Sarah Fisher' had been before the curse, Cora clearly had her heart, too.

"You want to come in?" he asked. "It appears we have something, uh, missing in common."

"I wish I could," she replied softly. "My name is Ingrid."

"Graham."

"I want you to know that I don't want to do this," Ingrid told him, and a shiver ran down Graham's useless spine.

"Do what?" he asked warily. He'd assumed that if the end came it would be in the form of Cora or Zelena crushing his heart; after all, Zelena hadn't given him that healing potion, which meant he wasn't of much use to them. But the sick look on Ingrid's face said something else was going on.

Slowly, Ingrid's right hand moved up to rest on the door frame, shaking as she fought the compulsion. Immediately, ice raced outwards from where her fingers touched, coating the doorframe and reaching out to the walls faster than Graham could follow.

"Find something warm," Ingrid told him.

"You could just let me out," Graham had to try.

"No, I can't," the Snow Queen whispered, and Graham forced himself to nod. His entire front room was already turning to ice; now it was leaping off the walls and freezing his furniture. So this is what Cora plans. She's not going to give me a quick or easy way out. I get to freeze to death, instead, he thought, swallowing hard.

Quickly, he rolled his chair backwards, heading for the blanket he knew was on the couch before it could freeze. By the time he turned his head back to look at Ingrid, the doorway had already been frozen solid, and he could only make out her shadow behind the wall of ice. She didn't want to kill him, but he was still going to die, but Graham had no intention of going easily. He knew that he didn't have long, but he'd been a hunter and a woodsman for most of his life. Freezing to death took time, and that meant he could call for help.

Unfortunately, when he reached for the phone, the line was already dead.

A/N: Do you think Graham will live or die? And what will Emma's eventual answer be?

Stay tuned for Chapter Eighty-Six—"Frozen," in which Graham's apartment is found frozen over, Neal and Henry get ice cream, Cora orders up her next massacre, and Tink slaps Killian in the face with a choice.