Call me Wicked

I argued with Killian, the tension between us palpable. Finally, I told him I wasn't interested, my tone firm as we walked through the open landscape. There was a reason I was with a woman in New York – because I had been in love with a woman in Storybrooke.

I didn't want him. The memory of that single kiss in Neverland was fleeting, hardly a foundation for a relationship.

Then there was a call, breaking the charged atmosphere. It was Regina on the other end, a welcome interruption. "Dr. Cameron," I answered, my voice showing a hint of relief.

"You were going to marry another woman?" Regina's question held a note of surprise, cutting through the current of emotions.

"What… I'd known her for years, It was hardly a stranger… to me," I explained, my tone matter-of-fact.

"Did Henry get some memories of her?" Regina's curiosity was evident in her voice.

"No. She was a colleague, Thirteen," I clarified, my words carrying a touch of annoyance.

"You were going to marry Thirteen?"

"Oh my god, it wasn't even her. She ghosted me after our second date," I sighed, my frustration apparent. I turned my attention away. "Why are you upset?"

"Because I had to hear from our son that you were going to have a family if you hadn't come," Regina's voice held a note of disappointment.

"What difference does it make?" I responded, my tone guarded. "She was a flying monkey."

"You should have told me; hearing things from him feels like you were trying to hide it from me," Regina's concern was evident in her words.

We stayed silent for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. Then she asked, her voice softer, "Were you considering it? Her proposal?"

I paused, the memory of those thoughts resurfacing. "Does that matter?"

"Humor me, Dr. Cameron," Regina's request was gentle.

"Yes, Okay?" I relented. "I was in a funk, so of course I was considering it." My tone was tinged with resignation. "But as usual she wasn't who she said she was and I got my heart broken. That enough humor for you, Madame Mayor?"

"Don't take this the wrong way… But I'm glad to hear it," Regina's words held a layer of understanding.

"You're glad to hear I had my heart broken?" I responded with a mixture of surprise and amusement in my voice.

"If it can be broken, it means it still works," Regina's sentiment was thoughtful. We let the silence settle between us.

"I never want you to think you are that forgettable… even if it was on purpose," I confessed softly, my words carrying a touch of vulnerability. I quickened my pace to catch up with Killian.

She sighed, her voice carrying a note of empathy. "Any leads?"

I shook my head, refocusing on the task at hand. "We found the berries, but there isn't anything out of the ordinary out here. Wait, Look there." I switched my attention to Killian, discussing our surroundings. "There is a farmhouse here. You gotta appreciate the irony..."

"Please be safe, Emma," I heard Regina's concern, a reminder of her worry for me.

"Yeah… Love you," I responded absently, my words spoken as if to Henry. Then I ended the call, our mission taking precedence. Killian and I proceeded to the house.

Killian and I meticulously searched the Farmhouse, our steps measured and cautious. It looked empty, the air inside still and expectant. We moved silently, each corner a potential hiding spot. We were methodical in our approach, searching for an entry point. And I spotted it, a storm cellar in the middle of the field, a hidden passage waiting to be explored.

We approached it, the weight of our task hanging in the air. I was about to blow the lock open when Killian stopped me. "Wait wait, it's one thing walking around a deserted farmhouse. It's quite another descending into a cellar with no way out," Killian cautioned, his voice a reminder of the risks.

I smirked at him, and the tension between us momentarily lightened. "Why? you scared?"

He sighed, his concern evident. "There's a difference between fear and strategy." He shifted his focus to my belly, a reminder of what was at stake. "We know she's got flying monstrosities; who knows what's down there? If this witch is as powerful as we think, we could use some magical backup. Unless you've been practicing in New York City."

I sighed, acknowledging the wisdom in his words. "I'll call Regina back, and have her drop Henry at Granny's." I retrieved my phone, my fingers slightly numb from the cold. "I'd like to see those flying monstrosities try to get past her crossbow."

"And her lunch special."

I chuckled, the tension further eased by our banter, and looked at my phone. I had a voicemail from David; I listened, to his urgent message guiding our next steps. I headed for Regina and then David, the urgency of the situation evident in every step. When we arrived, David was on his knees, his battle with the situation apparent. "David, are you okay?" I asked, my concern mirroring Regina's.

He nodded, his exhaustion clear in his posture. "Yeah."

"Well? Where is she?" Regina's impatience was palpable, her desire for answers unyielding.

"It wasn't her," He revealed, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Then who was it?" Hook's question was met with a tense silence.

"Myself," He confessed, his words a stark admission of the supernatural.

"Come again?" Killian's confusion echoed our collective sentiment.

"It's the witch," Regina affirmed, her certainty rooted in her experience. "She's toying with us."

"Did you guys find where she might be hiding?" David's question refocused our attention on the task at hand.

"Farmhouse," Killian responded, his words succinct and direct. "We think it's hers."

"Then let's end this," Dad's determination was a rallying cry, his resolve shared by Regina. She nodded in agreement. "Let's send that witch back to Oz."

"Any particular reason she would send a demon who looks like you?" Killian's inquiry turned to the mystery we were unraveling.

"No idea," David admitted. "It was just there, wearing my face, harping on my deepest fears."

Regina's curiosity was piqued. "It knew your deepest fears?"

"Yeah, things I've never told anyone. Even Mary Margaret," David's vulnerability was evident, the cold air carrying his confession.

"It wasn't until I admitted them that I was able to defeat it by stabbing it with the hilt of my sword," he explained his words a testament to his courage.

"Where is it?" Regina's question was direct, her determination unshaken.

"That's the strange part," David's gaze shifted behind him, uncertainty clouding his expression. "After I killed it, the hilt, it disappeared."

"What's that mean, then?" Killian's inquiry reflected our collective confusion.

"It didn't disappear," Regina clarified, her insight offering clarity. "She took it."

"Hang on…" I interrupted, my need for answers

We convened for an emergency meeting at Granny's the next morning. Mom, Dad, Killian, Regina, Granny, and I all gathered to discuss the situation. The farmhouse search had yielded no results. Mr. Gold's disappearance remained a mystery as if he had vanished into thin air.

"Can someone explain to me how this is even possible?" I questioned, the frustration evident in my voice. "We all saw that Gold… he…"

"Disappeared into nothingness, I know," Mom said, her tone resigned. None of them seemed surprised by this strange turn of events. And I still struggled to come to terms with the fact that all the stories were real, at least in my world.

"I might have an inkling," Killian chimed in, breaking the heavy silence. All eyes turned to him, eager for any shred of insight. "When we went back to the Enchanted Forest, Neal mentioned the possibility of bringing his father back."

"What?" Dad's voice held a mix of curiosity and confusion. "How?"

"He didn't have the details, he simply… missed his family," Killian explained, his gaze shifting to me. "He was desperate to find a way back to this world. He believed that bringing his father back was the key."

"Well, if that was his plan, then something obviously went wrong," I stated, my frustration simmering beneath the surface. I put my hands in my pockets and took a seat on one of the stools at the bar. "Because while Gold might be alive and well, Neal… He's… We don't know what's become of him." I noticed Regina's discomfort as she avoided making eye contact with me. I couldn't decipher whether it was out of jealousy or some other complex emotion. "We don't even know if he made it back to Storybrooke. No one has seen him since the new curse."

"He's out there somewhere," Dad said firmly, his determination unwavering.

"With all due respect," Regina interjected, her voice carrying an air of practicality, "we have more pressing concerns right now than figuring out who brought Gold back." It was probably a good idea to stop discussing my child's father with the woman I had told I loved. "We should be focusing on the fact that he was in the Wicked Witch's basement. I want to know what she was plotting with him."

Mom chimed in, her words a reflection of our shared desire for answers. "The best way to find out is to ask Gold, isn't it? He could tell us who the witch is and possibly how to track her down."

Regina sighed and rose from her seat. "I'm going to head back to that farmhouse. It's possible the witch left behind some trace of potion or a special ingredient."

I looked at her for a moment, a strong urge to reach out and hold her surging within me. "Have at it," I said softly, my concern evident. "Just be careful."

She smiled, a determined glint in her eyes. "Well, she's the one who needs to be careful. She invaded my space. And when I return the favor, I'm not pulling any punches." With that, she walked away, leaving the rest of us to strategize our next move.

We spoke to Belle and informed her that Gold was alive. Killian stayed by her side to ensure her safety against the Wicked Witch's potential threats. Dad tried to keep our best tracker, Leroy, in the shop, reasoning that Mom, being pregnant, should stay safe as well. But Mom wasn't having it.

"Emma is pregnant too. Should she stay? How are we going to get anything done this way?" Dad's concern for our safety was evident, yet Mom was resolute.

"Dad, we've got this. Okay?" I reassured him, my voice steady. I glanced at Mom and gestured for her to follow me.

I picked up breakfast for Henry and myself, meeting him at the Inn. He was engrossed in writing something, his focus on the page. I needed to ensure a smooth transition to his next activity. "Remember Leroy?" I asked him. He nodded, his attention still divided. "He's going fishing with some buddies today. Want to join them?"

"Sure, because I like fishing… Not because I believe you," he retorted, his skepticism clear.

"What?" I feigned innocence.

"You know you're not fooling me, right?" Henry looked at me, his gaze unwavering. "Something's up."

"I'm working on a case, Henry. You know how I get when I'm focused," I explained, attempting to downplay his suspicions.

He shook his head, unconvinced. "No, it's more than that. It's this town. All these old friends you've never mentioned, and people whispering around me all the time. There's something you're not telling me."

"You're a perceptive boy," I acknowledged, realizing he deserved some honesty. "When I was here before, I worked with the sheriff's office. My case isn't really medical. It's criminal. So for now, can you trust that I'm doing what's best, and I'll fill you in later?"

He nodded, disappointment evident in his expression. "I trust you." His words carried a hint of resignation.

I smiled at him, grateful for his understanding. "Thanks, Henry." I leaned in and kissed his forehead before rushing off to the hospital.

Neal had been confined to a dark place all this time, his memories shrouded in mystery. He didn't know where he had been or what had transpired. In his palm, he held a strange brand, resembling a triangular doorknob. I snapped a picture to share with Belle for analysis.

Then they left us alone together. "It's good to see you," Neal said, a genuine smile gracing his lips. "Even more to have you remember me."

I returned his smile. There will always be a soft spot in my heart for him. "Good to see you too."

"Wow… Clearly, it's been a year," he remarked, his gaze drawn to my belly.

I looked down at my growing bump, tenderly stroking it. The stress was causing aches, but I didn't want to cause any unnecessary worry. Our sibling was due to arrive soon, and I needed to keep it together.

"Yeah," I responded with a mixture of emotions.

"When can I see Henry?" Neal inquired, his eagerness evident.

"Neal, I don't…" I began.

"I know, okay? I know I can't just waltz back into your lives. But…"

"No, it's not that," I interrupted, wanting to clarify. "My memories have returned, but his… He doesn't remember anything. The curse, his previous life…"

"Me," he said softly.

"You."

"What does he know about his father?" Neal's curiosity was palpable.

"What I knew until a week ago. That you let me go to jail and never came back for us."

"Yeah, but I didn't have a choice. You know that," he defended himself.

"Yeah, I know that now. But I didn't know that during that whole year," I admitted.

"So my son has no idea who I really am?" His concern was evident, his brows furrowed.

"Imagine how Regina feels. She raised him," I pointed out, the complexity of the situation weighing on me.

"Yeah, but he probably doesn't think she's a jerk who abandoned him," Neal remarked, his gaze distant. "We have to get his memories back. We have to fix this. There has to be somebody who can help… The Blue Fairy or my father. They…"

"Neal… he was genuinely happy in New York with the life we had."

"You don't want him to remember me," he accused a mix of hurt and understanding in his eyes.

"Maybe that's for the best," I admitted, my inner conflict laid bare.

While we scoured the woods in search of Gold, a quiet conversation with my Dad provided a brief respite. Speaking with him was always a comfort, a way to untangle my thoughts. I confided in him about my reluctance to restore Henry's memories. His response echoed in my mind, "How are you going to stay in Storybrooke without his memories?"

I found myself grappling for words, unable to reveal my true sentiments. Admitting that a part of me considered leaving was difficult, especially with the flying monkey, a past connection, now targeting me for Storybrooke. There was a sense of security here, a place where I'd be safer than anywhere else. After all, how could I chase after someone who would never reciprocate my feelings, when my options were limited to a Pirate and my child's father?

"Unless you're not planning to stay…" Dad's voice trailed off, his words pushing me to consider my plans. "Do you think you'll return to New York after we break the curse?" he asked.

Reflecting on recent events, I began to explain, "Just a week ago, Henry and I were engrossed in video games and munching on fruit roll-ups. Now, I'm on the trail of the Dark One, hoping he can guide us to the Wicked Witch of the West." Our conversation was abruptly interrupted by a distant scream, urging me to shift my focus.

Without hesitation, I rushed towards the source of the distress, discovering Gold in a state of turmoil. "Gold, are you okay?"

"No, no, no. Not okay," he murmured, his pain evident as he held his head. "I can't silence the voices."

With empathy, I crouched down to his level, trying to provide some solace. "We know the witch had you captive. Do you have any idea where she might be?" I asked, my concern for Gold overshadowing everything else.

"Yeah…" he responded, his words disjointed by the internal struggle. "She's… There's no room, no room! She's shouting. There are too many voices!"

"We need to get him out of here," Dad said, stepping in to assist me in lifting Gold from the ground. However, before we could make further progress, a flying monkey swooped down, launching an attack. Dad's sword skillfully dealt with the threat, while I kept my gun ready.

"Gold!" I called out, watching as he retreated from the advancing monkey.

"I'll handle the monkey," Dad declared, his focus solely on the creature. "You go!"

Determined, I pursued Gold, keeping pace despite his stumbling due to the voices tormenting him. It was as if his erratic movements left a trail for me to follow.

And then, out of nowhere, Neal appeared, clad in the same coat as Gold. Confusion furrowed my brow as I addressed him, "Neal, what are you doing here?"

A mixture of playfulness and concern filled his reply, "You think I'd stay in bed while my pregnant ex-girlfriend goes hunting for my dad?"

"Ah, right. I forgot who I was dealing with," I retorted, a flicker of amusement in my voice.

"Got any leads on him?" Neal inquired, showing his commitment to helping.

"David and I spotted him, but he took off again," I updated him.

"So it's true? He's alive?" Neal's hope was palpable.

"Yeah, he is."

"Did he seem alright?"

"I'm not sure what that witch did to him, but he seemed a bit unhinged," I answered. "When I asked him about her, it was like he wanted to tell me something but couldn't."

"He can't have gotten far. Come on," Neal urged, starting to move. I hesitated briefly, considering my options.

"Do you really want me to waste time driving you back to the hospital?" I conceded, recognizing my own need for support.

"Fine, let's go," I agreed, acknowledging my own vulnerability in my current state.

"So, New York, huh?" Neal's voice held a touch of nostalgia.

"I'm a fan of the pizza," I replied with a light chuckle, momentarily drifting from our heavy circumstances.

"And does Henry share your enthusiasm?"

"He's practically in love with pizza," I affirmed, my smile widening.

"I meant living there, in the city," Neal clarified.

"Oh, right," I responded, slightly breathless and dealing with cramps. "I did love it during my Princeton years. I finally had the time to do all the things we couldn't normally do."

"Like what?" Neal's curiosity spurred me to reflect.

"Strolling in the park, catching a movie, visiting the zoo. Just the luxury of doing nothing," I explained, my voice tinged with nostalgia. "Life was good. Really good."

Neal's next question evoked a mix of emotions, memories stirred by his words. "Didn't you get lonely, though? Especially with a growing belly."

Aware of the life inside me, I answered candidly, "Not that it's any of your business. I was married during my college days, but my husband passed away. I decided to use the frozen sperm we'd harvested and try in vitro. So, here I am – in the midst of a crisis, seven and a half months pregnant."

Pausing, I collected myself before continuing, "But to answer your question, Henry had plenty of friends at school, and I… well, I had someone. Sorry."

Neal's understanding tone acknowledged my complex situation, and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Why apologize? Of course, you did. It's not like we were… Or that you even remembered."

My laughter held a hint of knowing as I recalled the layers of our history. "True, but if only you knew…"

Neal's question took a more serious turn, revealing his genuine concern. "Was it serious between you two?"

"She proposed," I admitted, my tone shifting to one of reminiscence.

"And then she turned into a flying monkey," Neal added, his voice light but weighted with our shared experiences.

Laughter bubbled between us, a shared moment of camaraderie in the face of absurdity. "Sounds like quite the adventure," Neal acknowledged.

"Almost as intense as almost marrying a minion of my evil grandfather, Peter Pan," I countered, my words tinged with both amusement and reflection.

Our laughter intertwined, a bridge between our past and present. "Hey, I'm sorry things didn't work out between us," Neal offered sincerely.

"Really?" I queried, surprised by his earnestness.

"I care about you, Emma. Always will," Neal affirmed. "Even if you choose a scruffy pirate over me."

A playful scowl crossed my face as I retorted, "I just want you to be happy, even if it's not with me."

"We were happy once," Neal mused, inviting memories of our shared moments to resurface.

"We never did find Tallahassee," I reminisced, a touch of nostalgia in my voice.

My thoughts journeyed back to that memory before being interrupted by my ringing cell phone. Belle's voice delivered a bombshell – Neal was dead, yet he existed within his father's body.

"He fell and shifted between Gold and Neal," I relayed the shocking revelation to Neal, making sure to emphasize my delicate condition.

"Yeah, I can hear my father's voice in my head," Neal confirmed. "He's here, inside me."

"He said there's no room. He meant you," I deduced, the pieces falling into place.

"He needs you to help him, Emma," Neal implored, reaching out to me. "Use your magic. Separate me from my father."

I was taken aback, my mind racing through the possibilities. "Are you serious? That would mean you… wouldn't make it."

"I know. But you need my dad more than me," Neal reasoned, his eyes conveying the gravity of the situation. "To identify the witch and save the town, you need to do this."

"I've never attempted anything this complex before," I admitted, my trepidation evident.

"Do it. For the sake of you and Henry," Neal urged. "Please. I'm asking you to do it."

Gold's anguished gaze found me as he struggled with his own internal conflict. Despite the overwhelming emotions, I focused my thoughts and extended my hands toward both of them. Closing my eyes, I harnessed my magic, weaving it through the intricate connections between them.

A surge of energy coursed through the air as I exerted my will, eventually managing to separate Gold and Neal. Neal's presence remained, but Gold's anguish intensified, the pain of their parting palpable.

Rushing to Neal's side, I addressed him urgently, "Neal, are you okay?"

Gold turned toward Neal, his expression a mix of desperation and disbelief. "What have you done?"

"It's alright, Papa. I told her to do it," Neal reassured his father.

"But why?" Gold's voice cracked.

"So you can tell her about the witch and help her defeat her," Neal explained.

"Zelena," Gold spat out the name, a mixture of resentment and fury in his voice.

"What?" I responded, stunned by the revelation that linked Zelena, the woman with my mother.

"Zelena," Gold repeated.

"She's the witch? What does she want?" I questioned, my mind racing to grasp the implications.

"She doesn't have what she wants," Gold stated, his tone laden with bitterness.

My attention shifted between Gold and Neal, the gravity of the situation setting in. "Is there any way to save him?" I asked Gold, desperately seeking a glimmer of hope.

Gold's head shook, his face a mask of resignation. "It's too late, Emma."

Tears welled in my eyes, emotions I'd been holding back threatening to overflow. I wanted to grieve for Neal, for the friend I'd lost. But time was of the essence. We had a wicked witch to capture. I nodded to David, my voice catching in my throat as I tried to speak.

"We need to get a protection spell around this apartment immediately," I told David, my voice unsteady.

Through a tear-choked voice, I managed to communicate the dire situation to my mother. "Regina, we need to talk. Neal… he's gone."

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, Emma."

Taking a moment to collect myself, I wiped away my tears. "Are you coming to the loft? We need to put up that protection spell."

"Yes, I'll be there shortly," Regina confirmed.

After hanging up, I knew what had to come next. I sought out Henry at the park, finding him sitting by the tranquil lake. "How was the fishing?" I inquired.

"Awesome," he replied with enthusiasm. "We should go on more trips like this when we get back."

My gaze softened, my heart heavy as I patted the bench beside me. "Come here, kid."

Henry joined me on the bench, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "You were right," I began, my voice wavering. "I wasn't entirely truthful about this trip. The reason I brought us here was because someone needed help, and that person was your father."

His confusion was evident, his brows knitting together. "This is about my dad?"

"Bad people were after him," I admitted, my grip on him tightening.

"Is he okay? Did you find him?" Henry's concern was palpable.

"I found him," I said, my façade crumbling as I allowed my emotions to surface. "But it was too late. He's gone, Henry. He was a good man, and he could have been an amazing father. There's something you need to know about him – he was a hero."

"I wish I could've known him," Henry murmured, a mixture of sadness and longing in his eyes.

"You did know him," I corrected gently, drawing him closer as his emotions intertwined with mine.

"Mom, you're not making much sense right now," he admitted.

A fragile smile graced my lips as I fought to hold back my tears. "I know, but you'll understand soon enough." I was determined now, determined to give him back all the memories he deserved. Neal's sacrifice had to count for something, and it was my responsibility to ensure my son had his entire family by his side.

"I know."

"What happened to the people who did this?" Henry's curiosity carried an undertone of determination.

"They got away," I said with a sigh, my gaze fixed on the horizon.

"I hope you catch them," he said softly.

Drawing a shaky breath, I reached for his hand. "We will, Henry."

As we sat there by the lake, I knew that the journey ahead wouldn't be easy. We had lost Neal, a friend, and a hero, and we were left with the weight of uncovering the truth behind his sacrifice. But for now, I held my son close, seeking solace in our bond as we faced the challenges that awaited us.

Neal's funeral had been solemnly planned a few days later. We had hoped Gold would be there, at the very least to have his father present during the ceremony. However, he had disappeared again, leaving us to wonder if Zelena had him hostage. As I poured the dirt from my shovel onto the grave, I promised myself that I would put an end to this Wicked Witch once and for all.

After the funeral, we all gathered at Granny's. The weight of the recent events still hung heavily over me. Neal was gone, my friend was gone, and this witch was now a threat to my family. Gold was either locked up like an animal or missing – the uncertainty was frustrating. I went to the back of the room where there was a dartboard. Dart after dart, I threw them as I formulated a plan. I needed an outlet for my anger.

"Perhaps I should paint a bullseye on the wicked witch's back," Killian's voice came from behind me, standing a bit too close.

"She'll get more than a dart when I find her," I replied, my frustration evident.

I could feel Killian's concerned gaze on me. "I know you're hurting, Swan, but there are better ways to grieve Baelfire's death than letting anger consume you."

I turned to him, my brows furrowed. "Let me guess… rum? In case you forgot, I can't partake," I retorted, my tone sharp. "I'll stick with anger. At least until I deal with Zelena."

"Take it from me, vengeance isn't the thing that's gonna make you feel better."

"It's gonna make this town safer," I said firmly. "And I promised Henry I'd find the person responsible for his father's death. It's really all I can do for him right now."

Killian's voice held a mix of empathy and wisdom. "That can't be true. Have you tried talking to the boy?"

"As far as he's concerned, I haven't seen Neal since he left me in jail," I explained with a heavy sigh. "So anything I tell him about his dad being a hero sounds like I'm making it up just to get him to feel better."

"Perhaps I can talk to him," Killian offered.

"About what? Leather conditioner and eyeliner?" I quipped, trying to inject a bit of humor into the heavy atmosphere.

"I knew Bae as a boy," he revealed. "Maybe Henry would like to hear what his father was like when he was his age."

"You'd really do that?" I asked, relieved that someone had something positive to share about Neal.

"Aye," he nodded. "It could help the boy make peace with his father's passing. And with me."

"Be careful, Zelena is still out there," I warned, my maternal instincts taking over.

"I assure you, nothing will happen to the boy while he's in my charge," Killian reassured me.

I turned back toward the table, my mind focused on the challenges ahead. Zelena was a dangerous adversary, and my determination to protect my loved ones had never been stronger. The thought of facing her filled me with a mix of anger and resolve. As I glanced around the room at my friends and family, I knew that we would face this threat together, no matter the cost.