It Starts With a Family

by RedTailedHawkens

That night in the forest, Rumplestilskin was brave. He went with his son to the land without magic and they landed in the 1990s. With no dark one in the Enchanted Forest, the course of events were drastically different. However, the curse was still cast, and Emma still has to break it when she turns 28. SwanThief, Rumpelle, Snowing, etc.

11. Chapter 10: The Girl From Oz

Author's Note: Hey, I'm not dead! Sorry that it's been so long. I was a little blocked on this fic, and I got invested in writing a different series, but I'm back, and I'll be focused on this for a while. I hope some of you are still reading. Also, as of this chapter, I have updated the beginning of Chapter 2: Magic to match changes made to the backstory.

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Chapter Ten: The Girl from Oz

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Note: Dialogue taken from 3x16 It's Not Easy Being Green, as obtained from the Forever Dreaming transcription site.

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Things had been hard for Zelena lately. She and her father had never had the smoothest of relationships. He had always been demanding and distant and, at times, even harsh. But it had been better when her mother was around.

Mother had cared for Zelena as best she could. She had been afraid when Zelena had started to do magic, but she had always tried to smooth the waters between father and daughter. And Zelena had known her mother had cared. Or she had hoped so, at least.

But since Mother had died, Father had become crueler, angrier. Zelena didn't want to upset him. She was careful, as she had always been, to do as he bade her. But just the other day, Father had revealed the wicked truth to her. She was not their daughter. She was just some foundling whom Mother had pitied, and Father … but why was she still calling them that in her head? Perhaps because they were the only family Zelena had ever known. And it turned out that they had never been hers. Had Mother even loved her? Why hadn't she protected her more from Father? And where were her real parents? Why had they let her go?

These questions and more haunted her as she made her way through the Emerald City. She was here to see the Wizard, and she hoped he would have answers for her. The Wizard of Oz knew all, or so they said. He was a great and powerful sorcerer and he could help her find a family to love her. She hoped.

She passed by guards who looked positively regal. This place … so full of wonder and majesty! It was more than a simple farm girl like herself had ever seen. And there was green everywhere! It didn't matter much, but she'd always rather liked the color. It was the color of the Wizard, and magic, and the answer to all her problems!

Everything around her was green and gold. She stepped onto the dais and fire erupted in front of her, blocking her path.

"I've been expecting you," A voice called and she looked around but there was nobody. Then a figure or shadow of a man in a top hat appeared behind a curtain. She knew she couldn't get closer but she wished she could. This had to be The Wizard!

"How did you know I was coming?" Zelena asked, awed.

"I see all. I am Oz, the Great and Terrible." Again, there was fire. Was his magic like her own? "You've come because you wish to find your family."

"Can you help me?"

"I will show you what you seek to know. But I warn you: It won't be easy for you."

The ground beneath her grew hot and seemed to shift. Zelena stepped away. She looked down and saw a scene before her, like a window to the past. A woman with a basket walked along a road, and Zelena felt her heart speed up and a warmth she'd never felt, maybe not even for the woman that raised her, surged within her. "Is that my mother?" she asked as she watched the woman leave the basket with the baby on the ground and walk away.And Zelena's face fell and her heart ached.

"Her name was Cora. She gave birth to you in another land. A cyclone struck and carried you to this world."

"Why did she abandon me?" Zelena asked. No, demanded. Desperately. Tell me that she had no choice, she thought; tell me she loved me, wanted me, that it was all a big mistake!

"You couldn't give her the one thing she truly wanted. The ability to become royalty."

The image shifted and Zelena saw again the woman before her, this time in a splendid dress in a room surrounded with straw.

"Where is she? What's happening?"

"She told a lie and made a promise she couldn't deliver. She was killed."

And Zelena watched as the head of the woman who gave birth to her was separated from her body. There was no sound, but Zelena could hear it in her head as the guillotine's blade fells. Her mother never flinched and she tried to do the same. Still, she reached for her own neck and felt it gingerly.

"Couldn't it have been prevented? Wasn't there any way she could have kept me? That we could have -"

Again, the scene changed. Her mother was there now clad in fine robes and slightly round with child. Was that her then? A man approached her. He was handsome and looked kind.

"Is that my father?"

"No. That is the king she almost married, before Princess Eva revealed that Cora was pregnant with you."

"And what happened to Princess Eva?"

The scene shifted again. Now she was witnessing a wedding between the King… and a woman who Zelena hated on sight. And then there was a baby. "She married King Leopold, of course. They have a daughter, Snow White."

"A happy little family. So, I could have grown up with a kind king and a loving mother. Instead, I'm cast aside and this girl is doted upon?"

"She was born royal. Your parents did not want you; you are the product of a night between two near-strangers."

"What happened to my father then?"

"He was a criminal. Eventually he was caught and hanged by the authority of the King."

"My parents were criminals? Thieves and liars? Am I wicked, as father says? Is there no hope for me?" The Wizard didn't answer her. "I was meant to grow up in this land," she said, gesturing toward the scene at her feet. "Is there a way back there? A way to meet this Princess Eva and her daughter and the King?" She didn't know why she wanted it. She just knew she wanted it. She needed to get away from Oz. She needed to find something. Maybe she could speak to this king about Cora. Maybe she could find answers.

The Wizard waved his hand, or appeared to, through the curtain, and instructed her. "Look down." She did. And there, on her feet, were a pair of silver slippers. "When you click your heels together three times those slippers will take you wherever you desire."

"But what do you want in return?" Zelena asked.

"As of now, nothing. But, one day, I will ask something of you. Be careful: It is one thing to wonder about your past, but another to become envious of things you cannot have."

---

"I've never seen these before," Mary Margaret said, as she picked up the silver slippers. They were in a box of items somebody had gathered in her former lodgings, what she supposed was her workplace now. It was a strange feeling. It might never have been a home, simply a place to sleep, but she'd lived here for so long. She was not one for nostalgia, and she did have a proper bed now. Still, she felt … something.

"No reason you should have," David said, coming up behind her with another box. She started when she saw him, "Sorry," He saif, and to her surprise, he almost sounded sincere.

"Well, you said to be here and I'm here. I even brought coffee. I don't know how you like it, so I just got black for you." It had felt so strange, going to Granny's and ordering two coffees like she had money. But she had a job now. She ought to behave like it.

She had borrowed the money from Emma, of course, but she would pay her back. She still didn't know what David's game was, if he truly wanted to help, or if he simply wanted to prove she was as unreliable and flaky as he'd always said. If that was it, she'd just have to prove him wrong. It wasn't like her to be so determined but this morning she had woken with a new sense of purpose. Emma's words over the past week or so were swimming in her head, telling her that she was capable of more, and she wanted so badly to believe it. Maybe she could.

"I like it black," David said, before taking the cup from her. He downed it quickly. "So, we need to get down to work. First things first: we need to decide what we're doing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, this theater is now the city's. It's going to be put to use for the city. The thing is, I'm not exactly sure how the city needs to use it, what it needs most. Our end goal will affect how we approach the project moving forward."

"Well, it's a theater. I should think that's the best use."

"A theater doesn't necessarily benefit the town. Overall, it's a tad frivolous."

"But wouldn't it be nice to have a place people could express themselves? Dress up and put on a real show?"

David sighed. "It should fit a real need, or at least bring in real money the town can use."

"Well, a theater would bring in money. Shows aren't free. Have you seen how much people pay to go see something on Broadway."

"Main Street is a far cry from Broadway. And we would need to pay the actors, the costumers, people to do jobs that aren't really lucrative, and all of that will cost the town."

"So, what then? Tear down the stage and turn it into a bunch of offices?"

"Something like that."

"But it's such a waste," Mary Margaret said with a sigh. "I suppose I forgot who I'm dealing with. You don't believe in dreams."

"I believe in being practical. If you followed suit, you wouldn't need to go to family for a job."

"You offered me this job! I didn't ask for it. And are we already fighting? It isn't even 10:00!"

David was quiet for a minute. Then he said, "Thanks for the coffee."

"I know you want to be practical, but what use is a bunch of offices if nobody is even going to set up shop? We don't get a lot of new people. Unless the Stiltskins are looking for a place to run, it'll just be a big waste. You want something people will use. This is a small town. We live in Maine, but we don't have any tourist attractions. Much as I've always wanted to get away from here, there are those who might find it a cozy vacation spot. They might want to enjoy themselves while here."

"Granny's is never full and often empty. Honestly, it's a miracle they're still in business."

"Maybe we should try and change that. Drum up some tourist business. Make this a spot people will want to visit."

"And you think a theater could do that?"

"Maybe a theater. Or if not, something fun, something unique, something they won't find anywhere else. I mean," she went over and picked up the shoes, "look at these props. Most of them are gorgeous. Real pieces of art. Emma said she'd never seen anything like those swords or that staff over there. It's all like something out of a fairytale." David watched her, his hand to his chin, as she whirled around the room like a dervish, picking things up. "Maybe … maybe it could be some kind of museum. Or something interactive, like an indoor amusement park. People go to Florida for Disney World. There has to be something here that's worth seeing."

"When were you and Emma here together?" he asked.

Oops. Mary Margaret tried to remain calm. "She, I, we were walking by and she saw through the window. She had questions and I know all about this place's history so I …"

"Right. Well, you know, it's actually not a bad idea."

Mary Margaret looked at him, mystified. "Really? But it was my idea."

"Tourism is down. Has been for ages, actually. I don't remember the last time someone blew through before the Stiltskins did." He started looking around. "It has potential. I was collecting these things to clear out, but if you think people would want to see them … " David picked up one of the swords, holding it in his hand. It looked kind of right to Mary Margaret to see him with a sword. Maybe because he was so combative with her. But he was agreeing with her now. Miracles did happen, it seemed. "We'll need to clean it up and get the building up to code. It's been just sitting here for a long time. It probably isn't all that safe. Might even have mice."

"So that's step one. And, if you're open to some more help, well, I know someone else who could use a paycheck. I'm sure she could help us with the cleaning."

"You want me to hire someone else?"

"She needs a job and we need the help. I think she'd be really good at it." She wasn't sure actually. She didn't really know Ashley that well yet, though something in her gut told her the girl could sweep and take care of mice with the best of them.

"I'll have to check the budget. See if I can swing it. Who is this you're thinking of?"

"Ashley Boyd. You've probably seen her around. And Hank could help with construction. He knows his way around a hammer, and he's been looking for work too."

"It sounds like you want me to employ all of Storybrooke!"

"Just a few people. It's hard to find work in this hamlet we live it. But doesn't providing jobs for residents help revitalize the economy?" David looked at her, eyebrow arched. "Just because I didn't go to college like you doesn't mean I don't know anything. You've always thought you knew me, spent so much energy on your petty assumptions-"

"And you haven't made any about me? You think I'm boring and stuffy."

"Well, you are."

"But you aren't wrong about the economy. Creating jobs is … is a good thing. I'm sure Selena will be on board with it. I'll crunch the number but … "

"Great. I'll give Ashley a call-"

"Not so fast. I still need to look into this. Why don't you start by going down to the store and picking up some mousetraps and cleaning supplies? I'll check the budgets and get the documents regarding building codes and… we'll meet back here in an hour?"

"Sounds good to me," Mary Margaret said.

"Save the receipts. They're a business expense, so you'll be reimbursed."

She nodded. "See you soon."

---

"Uncle Ben!" Ben's eyes snapped open. Paige's face looked huge to his tired, startled eyes. "I almost had to get the hose again," she said, heading over to grab her backpack. "You're going to be late if you don't hurry up."

Ben sighed, his hands covering his face as he tried to cover his exhaustion. He had gotten in late last night. His shift had finished around two o'clock in the morning. He'd been exhausted. Yet, somehow, he'd still let one of the regulars talk him into a game of poker going on down at the bar. He'd been so certain …

…But he'd lost. Which meant last night's paycheck was spent before he'd even come home. He wanted to drink his troubles away, but Paige needed him. Not that he begrudged her. He kind of cared about her sometimes. But if it weren't for Carol, he really wouldn't give the little orphan's welfare a second thought. As it was, he wasn't sure he was doing the best job as her guardian. Still, he was all she had. He didn't know which one of them he pitied more.

"Right home after school," he said, because that was what good guardians did, right? Set boundaries and the like.

"I have tutoring at the library," she said, impatiently as she grabbed a pop-tart from the toaster, "Do you have the late shift again?"

He nodded. "It might be a long night. You can get yourself home and to bed, okay?"

"Don't I always? Now get dressed. Fitz doesn't need another excuse to dock your pay."

And she was out the door. Well, time to start another day.

---

Graham didn't like it. Using hidden cameras to spy on the Stiltskins in their own home without their knowledge or a warrant? It felt like he was working outside the law. Yet, somehow, he was doing it. He couldn't explain why, really. He didn't know why he was willing to cross the line like this. He wanted to protect Storybrooke, and he didn't trust the Stiltskins but …

Well, no. That wasn't entirely true. The lad was cute; he made Graham's heart lurch for the family he'd lost a bit. And the old man seemed harmless enough. And then there was Emma.

He didn't know what it was about her that he was drawn to, exactly. Her quick wit. Her obvious care for those around her. Her cool head in a bad situation. She could match him and challenge him in a way he wasn't familiar with. As sheriff, he wasn't challenged much. Sleepy as Storybrooke was, nobody liked to get on the wrong side of the law.

There was Mayor Mills, of course. She didn't challenge him, though, not really. She usually told him what to do, and he usually didn't mind doing it.

Mary Margaret spurned his advances, which hurt, but he understood it. He wasn't what she wanted. He could see having a family with her, but a family wasn't the life she pictured for herself. She wanted something else, something he couldn't give her.

He'd thought he would always pine for her, that he would always be heartbroken. And he still was, wasn't he? Simply because he'd noticed Emma didn't mean he'd given up on Mary Margaret. What he felt for each one was entirely different; he was certain of that. But what did each feeling mean?

If what he felt regarding Emma was what he feared it might be, then he was still destined for heartbreak. She was the family type. He knew this because she already had a family. A family he was spying on.

He didn't like to think about it. It was necessary. It was necessary because of Neal. Even if Emma hadn't been in the picture, he would have suspected him. He fit the (albeit vague) description both women had given of their attacker. He was certainly young enough and strong enough to overpower either of them easily. And he was an unknown. A stranger who'd shown up in town just when this all had started happening. Was it any wonder Graham suspected him?

He wanted to watch him the whole night, but the man shared a bed with his wife most-likely, and that felt invasive. So, he used the monitors to check the feed from the cameras set up in the other rooms. The boy was up late reading—what, Graham wasn't sure. The older man had settled into a nice sleep.

Finally, he had checked the main bedroom. Emma was sleeping peacefully enough and Graham tried not to stare at the slightly revealing nightgown he made out just above where her sheet met her chest.

Behind her was the man. He wasn't sleeping. He was sitting in a rocking chair, watching Emma. Romantic or sinister? Graham couldn't decide.

Emma sat up suddenly at one point, the blanket came down, and Graham did his best to avert his eyes, while not losing sight of Neal. The two had a brief conversation and then Neal came back to bed. He slept on the left apparently, Emma on the right, and there was quite the chasm between them. Perhaps there was trouble in paradise. It didn't matter to him, couldn't matter to him, but it did matter to the case. A happily married man could be suspicious, but not as suspicious as one unhappily married. If he had issues with his wife, he might take issue with other women.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Both lay still, perhaps sleeping, perhaps not, staying on their sides of the bed. In the other bedroom, the boy eventually put his book down and went to sleep. And all was quiet in the house. Then morning came.

---

"Sorry for waking you last night," Neal said as he put on his socks. "I just …"

"It's fine," Emma said in that way that meant it wasn't.

"You're crabby," he teased, forgetting for a minute that maybe this wasn't the time for teasing.

"You remember when I first came to stay with you guys and I had trouble sleeping through the night? You'd come in and promise to watch over me, make sure nothing happened to me?"

"Yeah?"

"You were always out like the dead in the morning. Sometimes you'd fall asleep before me."

"I always made sure you were-"

"Sometimes I faked it, but I wasn't always out. You have always been a heavy sleeper, though."

"True enough."

"But you've been so restless since we came here. Since we fought. I … why can't you sleep?"

"I mean, things between us are …" He made some undefined motion with his hand.

"Yeah. They are. But is that all?"

Neal sighed. "No, there's more. Old demons. Older than you. Things that … that I haven't thought about for a long time."

Emma put her hand on his shoulder. "You can talk to me. Whatever it is - "

"Emma, we've talked about this. I'm not … it's not the right time. Not yet."

She took her hand back and threw them both up in a placating gesture, "I just wanted you to know that the door is still open. You know?"

Neal nodded. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry I snapped."

Henry came bounding in. "You guys are just getting up? The sun rose ages ago. I'm starving!"

"Okay buddy, how do pancakes in the new place sound?"

"Cool. Can I lick the bowl?"

Neal laughed, heading off to make his kid breakfast. Henry made things so much easier. If all this magic shit bit them in the ass … He couldn't think like that. And Henry still thought magic was, well, magical. So, they would get there. And maybe, when the curse broke, that would be it. Just people from the Enchanted Forest living here. It didn't seem like there was any magic here. Maybe there never would be.

---

There was no magic here. None. What a fool she had been. Listening to the Seer, urging Zelena to cast the curse, and for what? She still hadn't a clue what had happened to her daughter. Her revenge was done, but hadn't it been done in the other world as well? Surely there had been another way. But the Seer had been so convincing. And now, the woman was blind as a bat and worthless to boot.

Oh, Mal knew how to be patient. She had waited for Briar Rose's nauseating daughter to grow up and fall in love before she could curse her, hadn't she? She had kept careful watch on the situation then. She could be patient again now.

The newcomers in town, one of them must be able to break the curse. Her money was on the blonde, or perhaps the little boy. Though at least one of the men was from their land, apparently. He was related to Captain Hook himself. That should be enough to know that he wasn't some savior of the people, but truthfully, Hook's family tree wasn't known to her. Perhaps there was a tie to the crown somewhere down that line.

The old man was canny. There was a smell on him. Not quite magic exactly, but certainly power. Well, she'd best keep them close at any rate. And they'd given her the perfect opportunity.

She dialed the number on his application form, "Yes, Mr. Stiltskin. It's Dr. Drake. I've gone over your credentials, and I believe I may be able to use you after all."

---

Jack had kept his distance the past few days. He hadn't hit Aria once, but somehow he knew that if he got close to her, he'd get the itch. Why, though? Why did it bother him all of a sudden? Or maybe the better question was, why it hadn't bothered him before.

He'd been spending his nights at the Rabbit Hole. He wasn't ready to go back to the Glass Slipper. Images of the Red Queen lying in a hospital bed plagued him too much. He wasn't sure why. He didn't know her, save for the time she'd thrown an axe at his head. She was nobody to him. And work like that? Distasteful. Nearly as distasteful as a man spending his life in a bar.

Oh, he still went to work. And he still yearned for his boss so much it made his balls blue. But she never seemed to notice. She was more than happy with that handsome fellow she'd married, and he was simply in her employ. Even had he been single, free of his brunette ball-and-chain, Selena would still have been taken.

He had to get to work soon, he knew. It was morning. And he'd been nursing the same drink for half the night. But somehow, he thought that being around the woman he couldn't have was almost worse for him than the drink. He was too weak to quit. He wanted to be around her, to hear her laugh, see her smile, smell her fragrance, but at the same time, wouldn't it be smarter to walk away?

Even if he could, even if the pathetic sap in him could say goodbye, where would he go? He didn't know of any jobs open in town, certainly none worthy of his qualifications, and none that came with the sort of benefits that being the mayor's right hand allowed. It was all he knew.

"Weren't you here when I left last night?" the bartender said as he put on his apron.

"Weren't you losing your shirt in the corner there last night?" Jack bit back, as he looked the man up and down. He was still too handsome for Jack's liking, but he also looked exhausted. Jack wondered if he looked that exhausted himself.

"I've had a run of bad luck," the bartender responded, sliding a mug his way. "This should wake you up."

"You serve coffee in this rat hole, do you?"

"It's a Rabbit Hole actually, and yes. On occasion."

"Well, I haven't the time. I'm already late."

"And yet, you aren't moving. Tell me friend, what is it you wish to find at the bottom of a bottle every night?"

"Friend? I'm not friends with people like you."

"Well, I do owe you a debt. You got rid of some nasty men looking to rough me up a bit back."

Jack thought back. That had been the night he went to the Glass Slipper, and his first time coming across this man. "Right, well, if memory serves, the reason you needed the help was that you're not the sort to pay his debts, so I don't see how you owing me does me much good."

"Ben!" a rather cultured voice yelled. The bartender's eyes went wide in a panic and he fumbled with a glass. A man with an olive complexion and dark curly hair came out from a back room. There was something almost regal about the way he carried himself, something that silently proclaimed that this man was not to be trifled with. "First, you're late! Then you go giving out free drinks!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fitz. You know my family situation and - "

"Yes, rather tragic. And yet no excuse for your behavior. I should fire you and be done with it."

"I need this job!"

"Well, you do it well enough, I suppose. But that drink comes out of your pay," he said with a superior sneer. The sneer grew to what could almost be called a smile as he continued, "In fact, why not give out more free drinks? Use up your paycheck completely? That way you'll please all your customers and keep nothing for yourself. How heroic. And I'm no less rich."

A lesser man might have lost his temper. Jack could see it was a near thing. But it seemed the bartender knew well enough who buttered his bread. He gave a meek reply, and his boss nodded like he was king of the castle. Or king of the Rabbit Hole, as it were.

It was right, of course, for a bartender to know his place. But something about the meekness in the bartender turned his stomach. Lowers should stoop to their betters, and what was a bartender really? And yet …

One look at the time reminded him that the toil of the blue-collar class was not something he had time to contemplate. He took a swig of the coffee and headed out the door. He really needed to stop coming to this place. A bar was no place for someone of his station to be seen.

---

The castle was easy enough to get into with the slippers. Zelena watched the royal family, hiding in the shadows. Princess Eva was older now, and clearly a queen. She would hug her young daughter tightly and shower her with affection. King Leopold did the same. They were a happy family, all three of them.

Days passed and she continued to watch them, waiting for the right moment to approach. And then it arrived. Queen Eva and Snow White were away from the castle. Leopold was alone.

She transported herself to his chamber and he jumped up with a start.

"What - ?"

"Please, don't be frightened. I just want to talk to you. About my mother."

"I … am always happy to help someone in my kingdom. But perhaps you could approach me in the great hall instead of … appearing out of thin air and green smoke in my bed chamber."

"I'm not one of your subjects. But I think you knew my mother. Her name was Cora."

The King's eyes went up to his head, "I … yes. I did. Once."

"Could you tell me about her?"

"I'd … rather not. I'm sorry but those memories are most unpleasant."

"She was pregnant with me when you knew her, wasn't she? And you almost married her?"

There was a sad look on the man's face, "If you're suggesting that I'm … I am sorry, girl, but I am not your father."

"No, I know, but you could have been. You almost were. If that princess hadn't interfered, you would have raised me. Loved me!"

"That's quite enough. I'm sorry for whatever you have been through. Truly I am. But that princess you speak of is my wife, and I'd thank you not to insult her. I learned long ago not to trust your mother or anything coming from her. I have a family and a kingdom, which you willingly admit you are not a part of. And if you do not leave now, I will alert the royal guards to your presence."

Zelena huffed. "I just want answers." That wasn't right. She had answers. The Wizard had given her answers. She wanted the family she had been robbed of.

"I can't help you."

"Is it because of my magic? Are you afraid of me? Do you think I'm wicked?"

Instead of answering, King Leopold pulled a rope by his bed and a bell sounded. "Guards!" he called.

Zelena clicked her heals three times and was outside the palace in an instant.

---

The man behind the counter at the hardware store looked a bit foreboding to Mary Margaret's eye. He had slicked-backed black hair and a smug gleam in his green eyes. She had thought it best not to ask for help then. She could do this herself. If she could live in the mouse-infested place, she could certainly buy the traps.

It didn't take her long to find them. In fact, it was fairly easy. The place was well organized. She doubted they had a problem with mice.

Someone bumped into her on her way to the counter. Normally, she might have given them a piece of her mind, but it looked like a child, and as much as she'd never wanted children herself, she didn't want to be the old maid yelling at the kids for running on her lawn. She had no idea what kids were doing in a hardware store midmorning on a weekday, but it was hardly her place to judge.

She put her purchases on the counter as the cashier eyed her with disdain. "You didn't notice the welcome mat, did you?"

Mary Margaret smiled at him nervously. Maybe she was being to judgmental. "I didn't look at it, but your store is very welcoming, Mr. Morningstar," she said, taking note of his name-tag.

"A welcome mat is not for looking at; it is for wiping the muck from one's shoes. And if my store is welcoming, it is because I work hard to keep it clean and pest free."

Mary Margaret looked down at her shoes. She saw that she had trailed in a little mud, a few leaves, and some bits of other assorted debris. "You've done an admirable job."

"And you've made an admirable mess, if such things were admirable, which they are not. I'm going to have to clean up after you, unless you're so inclined as to clean it up yourself."

"I'm sorry for the mess. It won't happen again," Mary Margaret said, carefully counting out the little cash she had left and handing it to the man scowling at her.

"Perhaps you'd like to spend your day cleaning it, then."

"I'm going to assume that you're joking, because it wouldn't be appropriate to ask a customer to do that. But I am sorry, and hopefully you'll accept my apology. May I have my purchases?"

"You're a cheeky and entitled girl, aren't you? I don't much care for cheeky and entitled girls."

"And I don't care for your tone! My purchases? Please?"

After taking the bag he handed to her, Mary Margaret exited the store. Well, she tried to exit the store. Then an alarm went off.

---

Nicholas and Ava were late for school. Nicholas and Ava were never late for school. Nicholas and Ava were perfectly behaved. Of course, all children in Storybrooke were well behaved, but the mayor's children most of all.

It was odd. But a lot of odd things had been happening in Storybrooke lately, and Paige was hardly complaining. She weighed her options. If she turned them in to the principal, nothing would be done. The mayor's children would not be punished, and she would be marked as a tattler.

And if she approached them, asked where they had been? They wouldn't answer. They might not even remember that they were late, let alone why. Had she known they would be late, she might have tried to find them, or follow them. If they had planned it together, she could have gotten in on it. But Ava and Nicholas never seemed to need to talk about anything with each other. They always functioned as though they were one unit, one child. The whole thing was rather robotic.

That left her with nothing to do, except bring it up to her sister and her secret friend. But she couldn't visit them by herself, and she couldn't visit at all until after school. And after school, she had tutoring with the new boy and his grandfather. She certainly wasn't going to miss that.

---

The last thing Graham expected when he got the call was to find Mary Margaret being detained by Mr. Morningstar at Storybrooke Hardware.

"What's happened?"

"Graham. I swear -"

"The machines beeped. She had things in her pocket that she didn't pay for!" Mr. Morningstar seemed almost gleeful at the discovery.

"Someone put them there. Someone bumped into me earlier and -"

"A likely story. You could barely pay for your own purchases, and you've made a mess of my shop."

"Let's just calm down," Graham said, raising his hands placatingly.

"I want her arrested!"

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Mary Margaret, why don't you come down to the station with me, all right? We'll sort this out."

"Graham, you know me. You know -"

"I do. Which is why I need you to listen to me. You put back what you took, yes?"

"I didn't take-"

"You put back what was on your person?"

"Yes." Mary Margaret said meekly.

"All right. Let's go."

Sighing, Mary Margaret let Graham lead her out of the store.

---

"Thank you, Graham. I so appreciate the call," Zelena said, not even trying to fight back her smile.

She hadn't been happy when she'd discovered that Graham had abandoned his post watching the Stiltskin family. When he'd explained that it was because he was arresting her sister, well, that had changed things.

She wasn't entirely sure how those things had ended up in Mary Margaret's bag. Now homeless and desperate, her not-sister could have stooped to stealing. Though why she would do so at a hardware store escaped Zelena's understanding.

Of course, it could just be the curse at work, constantly ensuring that Eva and Leopold's daughter would be miserable. Well, she wasn't going to stand in the way of that.

"Mayor Mills?" her little puppy plaything asked, poking his head in the door. "I have Dr. Drake out here for ya. Should I send her in, or tell her you're indisposed?"

Mal was here? Well, that was unexpected. "I'm quite available now. Send her on in."

"Very good."

Less than a minute later, her old friend entered the room. "Wonderful to see you, dear," she greeted her. "Your timing is perfect. Snow White was just arrested for shoplifting, and I didn't have to lift a finger."

"How nice," Mal said dismissively.

"You could enjoy it more, you know. It isn't my fault you put your princess in a coma, and never get to have any fun with her."

"Fun, indeed. You still have to talk to the girl."

"And every time we talk, she's more miserable than the last," Zelena said gleefully. "Though her moods have risen a bit lately. Perhaps, the curse is correcting that. Or perhaps, it's just that you can't take the bandit out of Snow White."

"Perhaps."

"But enough about how great my life is; you clearly came here for a reason. I can tell by the serious look on your face. Don't tell me? Is it Prince Philip? I always thought you should have killed him, or at least left him as a Yaoguai."

"Yes, that would have been very unnoticeable in a land without magic. Speaking of -"

"You miss your powers; is that it? Well, if you didn't want to be in a land without magic, I should think you wouldn't have suggested such a thing."

"You have powers, do you not?"

"Not really."

"You woke me up from the curse. How did you do that?"

"As the curse's caster, I can wake up whomsoever I want. It's not new magic; it's just part of what made this place."

"And you don't miss it? The power you had? You were quite powerful once."

"I was quite alone once. Now I have family, friends, and subjects who worship me. It's all my mother could have wanted. If it didn't turn out so well for you, you should have been more specific about what you wanted." It looked as though Mal was going to say something, but she seemed to think better of it. "Well, if that's all, I'd like to go back to enjoying Snow's misfortune."

"It is rather impressive how you can still find joy in it, nearly thirty years later. I certainly hope that continues. Good day."

---

She had nowhere to go. Nowhere at all. The guards stopped searching for her eventually, and Zelena just sat and watched from nearby. The slippers allowed her to slip in wherever she wished. She could get inside the castle. She could go all over the grounds. She couldn't risk being seen. If she was, she would likely go the same way as her mother.

It would make the most sense for her to go back to Oz, but there was nothing for her there. So, she watched the queen return with her daughter. She watched the little family they made, and the way people worshiped them. And she seethed with anger. This was the life she could have had. A princess in a castle with her father the king, and her mother Cora. Instead, she was stuck here, watching, unable to tear herself away.

It went on like that for a while. And as she watched and wished she had the life of the younger girl named for a weather condition; she found her skin changing. A patch of green here, another one there. Dreadful, and she could do nothing for it. Another sign that she was wicked, as her father had always said.

The royal family was hosting a ball. Typical. They were fighting Ogres, but they still had time to dance and laugh and show off the beautiful young princess. Zelena watched from a parlor room. They danced so beautifully. Nobody had ever taught her how to dance. Her father probably hadn't known how; when would he have cause to learn? She found herself stumbling around, trying to capture their movements. Turning, she heard a chuckle behind her.

She should just disappear. It was what she always did. But when she turned to see the boy smiling at her, she paused. She wasn't sure why.

He was younger than she was, though not by much. His hair was fair and his smile was kind.

"Never been to a ball before?" he asked.

"I … no, I haven't,"Zelena said.

"I was quite young at my first one. I spent far too much time eating anything I could fit in my mouth, and I stepped on the toes of the princess I was dancing with. Father was not happy." The smile left his eyes as he said the last sentence, but returned quickly after. "Let me show you."

"What?" Zelena asked, stepping back as he approached her and knocking over a chair.

He laughed again. "You're rather delicate aren't you? Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I'm simply going to show you how to follow a lead." She stared at him. "You do want to learn to dance, don't you? So, you don't have to hide in here?"

That wasn't why she was hiding. But Zelena found herself nodding all the same. The boy drew closer and put his left hand around Zelena's waist. Instinctually she took a deep breath, feeling gooseflesh where his hand touched. He took her right hand in his and then he was leading her about the floor. "Move your left leg when I move mine," he said, and she found, to her surprise, that it was actually rather easy to follow his lead.

They moved about the room to the music for a bit. It was fun. Zelena had never had so much fun. Nor had anyone's touch ever excited her before. She found she liked his smile and the way it was fixed on her. It made her cheeks feel warm.

"There now," he said kindly. "You can go out and dance among the others; you needn't be embarrassed."

"Actually I… I can't. I – "

"Prince Edward?" The guards! She couldn't be seen!

"I'm sorry," she said, clicking her heals and disappearing.

---

"I'm not going to apologize for something I didn't do," Mary Margaret said. She knew she was being silly and stubborn. The most important thing was to get out of this as quickly and painlessly as possible. For some reason, she couldn't seem to help herself, though.

"I'm sorry," Graham said. "I don't like this. We're friends. And no, I don't think you're likely to steal from the hardware store. But it's your word against his, and he is going to press charges."

Mary Margaret snorted. "Of course, he is. He wasn't exactly pleasant before he accused me of stealing."

"Some of his wares were on your person."

"Graham!"

"I'm just saying how it looks."

"Mary Margaret? Graham?"

Upon hearing their names, Mary Margaret and Graham turned as one to face the new speaker.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret said, smiling for the first time in what felt like eons now.

"I assume you're here to post bail?" Graham said, his eyes on Emma.

"Yep." Emma replied, handing over the cash. "Is she free to go now?"

"Well, I wouldn't leave town, but I would hardly expect her to."

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. She'd always liked Graham, but she didn't favor his attitude right now.

"I'll meet you outside," Emma said.

As Mary Margaret exited, Graham called after her, "I hope you know I was just doing my job."

She didn't respond, didn't smile, and didn't turn around. Graham was a good man, she knew, and tomorrow, she'd probably forgive him. Today, she just couldn't.

---

It felt awkward sitting in the waiting room. Rheul Gorm, or whatever name she went by here, didn't trust him. Neal really couldn't blame her. He had accosted her in the street, after all. Nobody would feel comfortable with someone who had done that.

He had rushed over as soon as he'd gotten off the phone, told Rheul Gorm that Dr. Drake had called him, and been told to wait. That had been over an hour ago. He knew that doctor's offices tended to make people wait, and it wasn't as though he had something else to do with his time. He trusted his father to watch Henry, and Emma was busy being … whatever she was now. Some savior, according to Henry, which was pretty freaky still, but he loved her, and he'd promised he'd always support her. If that meant …

He was cut off mid-thought as Dr. Drake came into the room.

"Hey," he said, standing to greet her. "Um, so you called about a nursing job. I don't know if it's at the hospital or here …?"

"It's neither," she said briskly. "The job is in my home."

"In your … I'm sorry, I don't understand?"

"My mother is in need of regular care. She is blind and elderly. I can't always be there. Would you be interested in a position like that?"

"Maybe. Um, it's not live in, is it?"

Dr. Drake shook her head. "It'll take up the bulk of your day, but you can leave at night. I'm there for her at night."

Neal nodded. "Okay. And is this … on the books?"

"Yes. You'll get pay and benefits. Worry not."

"Okay. I'll take it."

"Great. I'll give you some paperwork to fill out and then I'll supply you with the address. We can meet there tomorrow before I start my workday, so that you may start yours. Does that sound acceptable to you?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Okay. I'll go get the paperwork."

---

"That's splendid news, son," Rumple said. After the two hung up, he turned to Henry, "Your father got a job."

"Great," Henry said, though he didn't sound too enthused.

"Are you not happy for him?"

"No, I am. I just … don't think it has anything to do with Operation Cobra, does it?"

"Operation what?"

"I forgot to tell you. I came up with an awesome code name for our mission. You know, to break the curse."

Rumple nodded. "I see."

"Right now, you and I are trying to figure out who people are, and mom is helping people, which will probably weaken the Evil Queen's power, even if she doesn't realize it. But Dad … I'm not sure what's he's doing."

"He's providing for his son. Being a good father."

"No. I get that. I just …"

"You're just really focused on Operation Cobra."

"Yep."

"Well, for our part, I would think the most prudent people to identify would be the big players: the Evil Queen, Snow White, Prince Charming."

"Of course. I don't know about Snow White or Prince Charming, but I think it's pretty obvious that the mayor of Storybrooke is the Evil Queen."

"I had the same thought."

"So, maybe Dad's job could be too, I don't know, stop her or spy on her or something."

"Your father isn't as skilled in subterfuge as you might think. No, I wager I'd be better at that job."

"But you're helping me!"

"Well, I'll tutor young Paige, of course, and keep my eyes peeled, but I think I'd be of more use getting close to the mayor."

Henry took a minute to think. "I guess you could offer to tutor her kids? I mean, maybe they need help in school."

Rumple nodded. "I could use that, yes."

"Okay. Cool. And then, Dad and I can work on identification. If only there was someone in town who had, like, a list of who everyone was."

---

"Everyone put their pencils down. The test is over," Mr. Hopper said.

Paige smiled. She'd put her pencil down eons ago. Right now, she was reading from one of her Oz books again.

She knew it wasn't all true. L.F. Baum had gotten some stuff wrong about Oz, but it felt important that she read it all. Research for a longer game.

Speaking of games, it was time for recess, which meant she had one to run.

"Can I play?" Roland asked, yet again.

"This game is for big kids," Paige said, rolling her eyes. He needed to get a clue.

"Nobody lets me play with them. Nanny Ashley used to play with me, but she's gone now."

Paige sighed. "Look, kid. Life in Storybrooke isn't easy. You need to learn to start looking out for number one."

"Like in the bathroom?"

Paige rolled her eyes. "Just go back to playing with kids your own age, okay?"

Roland was cute, but he was too innocent to the way of the world. Paige was still figuring it out, but she knew you couldn't get by just expecting stuff to be handed to you. That was why she had this game. She needed money, and Uncle Ben always gambled away all of his. She would pay for her own tutor, and if that Henry kid and his grandfather were at all what she thought they were, she would know soon.

---

"Thank you for that," Mary Margaret said, greeting Emma as she slammed the door to the sheriff's station. 'Saving me, I mean."

Emma laughed. "It's not a big deal. I used to help teenagers with that sort of thing all the time."

"What do you mean?"

"My work. I think I told you, I'm a social worker. I work with kids and teens in the foster system, the ones the system forgot about."

The two of them got into Emma's bug. "How did you end up in that line of work?" Mary Margaret asked, as she buckled her seatbelt.

"Well, I was in the foster system myself. And I hated it. And I hated social workers. But then things turned around and I wanted to … pay it forward, I guess?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "I guess that makes sense. Where are we going?"

"I figured I'd drop you at your new place. How's that going, by the way?"

"It's a little early to tell. It was nice, sleeping in a real bed."

"And the job?"

Mary Margaret winced. "I'm supposed to getting supplies, but they took my purchases, even the ones I actually paid for."

"That sucks."

"I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. Just … drive me home. I'll have to come up with something to say to David."

"I can help, if you want?"

"You've helped enough. I'm not sure I deserve how nice you've been. I just keep screwing things up."

"Mary Margaret – " Emma started, but Mary Margaret interrupted her.

"So, you grew up in the foster system, you said? Your parents… can I ask, what happened to them?"

Emma sighed. She wasn't in the mood for a change of subject, especially a change to that subject. It was an old wound, and it had mostly healed over, but still, it was there. She supposed she should answer, though. "I don't know what happened to my parents, actually. They didn't want me."

"That can't be true," Mary Margaret said. It was amazing how this woman could be so nice to others and so cruel to herself.

"They tossed me on the side of the road in my baby blanket. If they're out there, they probably assume I'm dead. I would have died, if some random kid hadn't found me and brought me to a diner, which brought me to a hospital."

"That's terrible."

"Yeah. But there are all kinds of family. It doesn't have to be about blood. Neal's dad took me in and treated me like his own, and I have my husband, and my kid. If my parents didn't want me, I don't want them. I want the family that chose me."

Mary Margaret sighed. "I've never had anyone choose me. Even my sister … I know she loves me, and she's amazing. She's exactly who I would pick if I had a choice, but I'm not sure she would pick me as her sister if she had a choice."

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Because I'm nearly thirty and I've done nothing with my life."

"You're trying. You've just had a run of bad luck."

"It's not bad luck. I screw up all my chances. Sometimes, when things are really bad, I can't help but think it's because … I deserve it."

Emma pulled over and turned to face Mary Margaret. "I've noticed you do that a lot. You talk shit about yourself. And I don't know if it's something you heard growing up or what but, as far as I've seen, there's no evidence that you're this terrible person you seem to think you are."

"I'm flighty, lazy, spoiled, entitled –"

"Those are just words. Do you have any proof?"

"I've been unemployed for as long as I can remember."

"Do you know how many people are unemployed? We live in a shit economy. A lot of people struggle with a getting a job, and it usually has nothing to do with whether or not they're qualified. It usually has to do with who you know."

"I know the most powerful person in this town, and it took her this long to get me a job. If she can't convince people –"

"Why are you so sure she was trying to help you?"

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Because if she has as much power as she seems to, as you think she does, it actually doesn't make sense that she couldn't get someone to hire you if she really wanted to."

"It does if I'm a terrible employee!"

"But do you have proof of that? Have you ever actually worked anywhere?"

"Just at Granny's."

"And were you a good employee?"

"I … don't really remember. But it must have been horrible. Why else would Granny and I be on such bad terms?"

"I mean, you said she raised you, right? With family, there can be a lot of complications, and it's best not to piss where you eat. That doesn't mean you were bad at it. And if you were, that doesn't mean you wouldn't be good at something else. And hey, you did get a job recently, so feel good about that."

"That was just David doing me a favor."

"Your sister's husband? Don't you two not get along?"

"Not usually, no."

"So why would he do you a favor?"

"Because of my sister."

"Even still. Like I said, it's who you know. If she got you this job, you do it, and you kick ass at it."

"I don't know that I can. I've already screwed up so much."

"Look, why don't I go back to the drugstore for you, get the items, and then drive you back to work?"

"I just feel like I've already failed."

"Everybody fails. I fail constantly. That's what happens when you try. Sometimes you fail. But what's the alternative, not trying? Not doing anything? You'll try, and sometimes you'll fail, but you'll learn from your failures. You'll get better."

"I don't know."

"I know. Trust me. And if you need help, call me. I'm here for whatever you need."

"That's … thank you. I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

---

Zelena hadn't gone back to the palace. She hadn't wanted to. The King did not want her, had never wanted her as a daughter. He had his own. And what were he and his to her really? A family that was never truly hers and never would be? Why torture herself looking in on what she couldn't have?

Because she had something now. She had those moments of learning to dance with Prince Edward and a feeling she had not had before that she wanted to explore.

She wanted to go to him. She could. But she was afraid. What if he rejected her as her father and King Leopold had? What if he called for the guards to capture the 'witch'? She could escape of course; kingdoms in this land were clearly unprotected from magic. But it would hurt and she had hurt quite enough.

She still had nowhere to go. No family. No home. She had nothing in this land, and she had nothing in Oz. So, where, then? If she was truly done with watching King Leopold and his family, where would she stay?

She searched the woods on the outskirts of the kingdom until she found an old cabin. It was abandoned and it would suit her purposes nicely enough. Her life would be hard, but no different really than it had been in Oz, except she would not serve her father; she would only need to look after herself and thanks to her so-called family she was quite skilled at that. The firewood she chopped would be to warm herself, to cook her own food, which she would catch for herself and nobody else.

For some months she lived like that, alone in that cabin in the woods. Until one day there was a knock on her door.

She had no permission to be here, but surely, she could bluff her way through. She went to open the door … and found Edward standing on the other side.

"I thought you lived here," he said, smiling at her.

"I … I … what are you doing here?" She asked.

"I came to find you. I've been in these woods enough to notice someone was living in this old place now, and I thought I saw a red-haired woman chopping firewood recently. It seemed worth the try."

"You … you wanted to find me?"

"Yes. I've thought of you often since our encounter."

"You have?"

"Indeed. How did you disappear so quickly?"

It would be smarter to lie. Safer. But she felt the truth slip from her lips all the same and once it was out, she couldn't take it back. One word: "Magic."

"I thought so. It's such a taboo subject around here. Nobody knows very much about it. The fairies do what they can, but we're led to believe we can't do it ourselves. You aren't a fairy, are you?"

"I don't know what I am. A witch, I suppose, and wicked, if you ask my father."

"Wicked? A wicked girl who just wants to dance? No, I don't think you're wicked. I think you're powerful. You can go from one place to the other at your will. Do you know how valuable a skill that is?"

It was the slippers, not her, but she didn't want to tell him that. She didn't want him to stop telling her how wonderful she was. And it wasn't as though she couldn't do magic, even if … "There is quite a lot I don't know. I've never had the chance to learn really."

"But surely there is someone somewhere out there that can teach us."

"Us?"

"Yes. I want to come with you. We can transport ourselves, that is, you can transport us, and we can learn magic. Together!"

"I … I don't know where. That is, who would teach us?"

"Can't you just … think of finding a teacher? How does it work? I want to know."

"I … I can go where I desire." Would it work? Click her heels three times and think of a teacher?

"Then let's go." He grabbed her hands, and she felt her cheeks warm again. "Someday, I am to be a king and I want to be a good one. But my father is old-fashioned and small-minded. He doesn't realize what having magic and a woman like you at his side would bring to the kingdom."

"A woman like me?"

"Yes. A woman who is … powerful. And … and beautiful. Clever enough to elude guards and a wonderful dance partner!"

"You think I'm … beautiful?"

He smiled at her. "I lay my future in your hand. I believe you can give me the key to all that I desire. We can have all we desire together."

He was standing close, still gripping her hands. It was like the dancing, but better. He thought so well of her. They could have everything!

Without a word, she thought that what she desired most was to take the two of them to the doorstep of someone who could train them in magic, and in a puff of green smoke, she and the prince disappeared.

---

Rumple didn't like the plan, or rather, he didn't like that he had left Henry at the ice cream store to execute the plan. However, he knew it demanded a more delicate touch. Also, while leaving Henry alone in a cursed town wasn't ideal, bringing Henry to the doorstep of the Evil Queen wasn't the best thing either.

He expected to see some sort of secretary barring his way, but if there was someone in the outside office who held such a position, he or she had vacated their post. That worked in his favor. It was always better to catch someone unawares.

He knocked on the door to the mayor's office, and heard an authoritative, "Come in."

He entered to find the mayor looking at him with eyes that grew wide as he approached. "What …? Did you just walk straight into my office?" she asked, aghast.

"I knocked," Rumple replied. "You said to come in."

"Yes, well, I thought … that is, I usually have someone sitting out there to handle appointments. I suppose he's on his lunch break. It's funny, he doesn't usually take it." She pursed her lips in thought. "Well, as you're here already, you might as well tell me what I can do for you."

"I believe you have two small children. I met them, in fact, when we came to your house for a meal."

"Yes. They are the perfect children in every way."

"Well, any mother would say that, but they did seem rather well behaved, which I'm sure is to your credit."

"It is, yes. What interest do you have in them?"

"I'm a simple man. My income comes primarily from tutoring. I was hoping that your children might need some help in school."

"I see. Well, as far as I know, they are top of everything. I wouldn't accept anything less."

"That is good for them, though disappointing for me."

"Are you planning to go to every parent in Storybrooke and pose the same question?"

"No. but we were already acquainted, and I confess I wanted to continue that acquaintance to a further extent."

The mayor's eyebrows rose. "And why is that?"

"I would like to get to know you better." He watched carefully for her reaction. When she didn't say anything, Rumple continued, "Is it so difficult to believe that a man would desire the company of a woman such as yourself?"

After a long pause, she said in a very quiet voice, "I suppose not." Then she cleared her throat and spoke a bit louder. "I'll discuss it with my husband, and see if he believes our children need any extra help."

Rumple nodded. "Thank you. Well, you know how to get in touch with me. I look forward to hearing from you. I won't take any more of your time."

Once he had left the building, Rumple took a few minutes to sit on a bench and gather his thoughts. He had never felt so smooth in his life. It was the confidence his curse brought him; it had to be. He'd also never tried to manipulate a woman in quite that way before. True, she was evil, but when the word "seduce" cropped up in his mind, he pushed it away. Nothing untoward need happen between them. It was only a bit of conversation, a bit of making her feel special to gain information. His stomach turned.

He couldn't help thinking of what he'd discovered from reading Henry's book. Belle had been real. The figment of his fantasies; the friend he'd thought he'd made up in his head, had been a real woman. She was a few centuries removed from his time, but she was real, and given when she had been born, there was every possibility she might be living a cursed life in this very town. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he couldn't help but hope a little. Belle was real, and she might be close by.

---

While Emma was doing the shopping in the pharmacy, Mary Margaret thought she might get a frozen yogurt. She didn't have much in way of money, of course, but she thought she had enough on her for a cone.

She made her way over to Any Given Sundae and found the oddest pair there: Emma's son and Aria Scathe.

"I didn't know you two knew each other," she said by way of greeting.

Henry shot her a strained smile. "You're the mayor's sister, right?"

She nodded. "I am, yes. And I'm friends with your mom." Henry didn't say anything else, so Mary Margaret turned to Aria. "I heard what happened to you. How are you doing?"

"I'm coping just fine," Aria said dismissively.

"I didn't mean to pry," Mary Margaret said quickly. "It's just that if something like that happened to me, I'd want my friends to ask after me."

"Are we friends?" Aria asked. "I wasn't aware. But then, since it happened, it seems everybody wants to be my friend. Who knew getting beaten bloody could make a gal so popular?"

Mary Margaret put her hand to her mouth in shock. "I'm sorry. I just … I'll go." She turned to leave, then turned back. "If I can just ask one thing, if there was a building you could go to that would help, what would that be?"

Aria got a far-off look, then she smiled at Henry. "A castle to run away to, of course."

Henry laughed, and Mary Margaret shook her head. She assumed it was an inside joke, but she did understand that everyone needed to escape their problems sometimes. More often than not, she'd wanted somewhere safe to run to. It always made her think of "Breakfast at Tiffany's," though. How did that line go? "No matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself."

---

Jack never took a lunch break. He didn't know what had possessed him to take one today. What if Mayor Mills needed him, and he wasn't there? Who would help her? Or what if, as he often fantasized about, she was distraught over a fight with her too-charming husband, and he weren't there to comfort her? Not that he wanted her upset, of course, but if he could just show her how much he cared for her, how much better he would be about taking care of her …

He would kick himself for missing an opportunity like that. He knew he would. But something, maybe curiosity, had drawn him back to the hospital. He had gone to Rosie's room. There were no other visitors, and she seemed to be asleep, so he came in. Her bruises looked even worse up close, which made something in him lurch. She looked peaceful, though. She wasn't tossing and turning. She must have been at some point, because her hair was a beautiful blonde mess on top of her head, with strands sticking to her lip-gloss. His hand wanted to remove it, but he stopped himself. It was such a strange impulse, and very unlike him.

"If you insist on standing and staring at me, could you at least move a bit to block the light?" she said, not opening her eyes. "The sun is being rather inconsiderate in its brightness today, and it's giving me a headache." Jack stumbled back, knocking into a chair and falling on his ass. Rosie chuckled, her eyes now open. "Well, you certainly are entertaining, aren't you? Like a court jester or something."

"Hey, now. I work in the mayor's office," he said, feeling unsettled. He wasn't sure if he was unsettled because she had insulted him, or because of the blue of her eyes, or the fluttery feeling in his gut when she had given such a genuine laugh at his own expense. No, it was that she had insulted him. It had to be.

"Do you tell her jokes?" Rosie asked. "The mayor, I mean. Do you dance around and entertain her?"

"'Course not. My job is important."

"Well, humor is important, isn't it? Women like a man who can make them laugh."

"I don't think the mayor cares about that. Her husband is dull as dirt."

"Well, perhaps that's why she keeps you around. To entertain her. That's what I would do, if I were a politician with an assistant. Or I'd hire someone I could sleep with, but he'd probably be taller than you, with broader shoulders."

"That's not … the mayor and I don't have that kind of relationship."

"Yes, because you're short, and your shoulders aren't broad enough."

"Yeah? Well, you look like a bruised eggplant, you do." Her face fell, and Jack felt like he'd just kicked a three-legged puppy or something. "Sorry, that was... Sorry."

"Who are you, anyway? What are you doing in my hospital room? Other than staring at me while I sleep and insulting me, I mean."

"I don't … I mean, I heard what happened and I just felt … bad about it."

"Why? Were you the one who did it?"

"'Course not! I just … felt bad." Rosie shook her head. He noticed she looked a tad teary-eyed, but before she actually started to cry, she turned her head away from him and readjusted her pillow. He felt he would do anything to make her laugh again. "You know, when I was on my way over here, I got lost, so I asked some bloke what the fastest way to get to the hospital was, and he told me to go stand in the middle of the road."

Rosie turned back to face him, her eyebrows way up. "What?"

"Yeah. And when I got here, I met the coolest guy in the hospital. The hip replacement guy. Get it, 'cause he's hip? Anyway, he's one of the top sturgeons, but personally, I wouldn't trust a fish to cut me open. If I had to see a doctor, I'd rather a dermatologist, though I've heard they tend to make rash decisions."

Rosie burst out laughing, which make Jack smile despite himself. When she finished, she said, "Those are the worst jokes I've ever heard."

"Made you laugh, didn't they?"

"Only because they were so corny and horrible."

"Well, I guess I'll have to work on that, then."

"Miss Boyd?" a nurse called as she came in, "It's time to take your pills." Then she turned to Jack, "Who is your visitor?" she asked.

"I don't actually – "

"Me name's Jack," he said.

"Apparently his name is Jack. And his grammar is horrendous."

"Well, you know, when I was a kid, my English teacher looked my way and said, 'name two pronouns, and then I said, 'who, me?'"

Rosie just stared at him. "Is that supposed to be a joke."

"What? Don't get it? Maybe I'm not the only one who needs to work on their grammar."

"Maybe you just need better jokes."

"Well, next time I visit ya, I'll bring a joke book. Course, last time I went to the library, a book fell on me head. I guess I only have my shelf to blame."

She didn't laugh. She just shook her head. Her eyes were sparkling, though. "So, you are coming back then?"

"Oh." He hadn't actually thought about that when he said it. "I mean, eh, if ya want me to?"

"I'd like that."

With a nod, Jack saw himself out.

---

Paige was waiting on the library steps, as promised when Mr. Stiltskin showed up with Henry. She was, once again, reading.

"That's not the Wizard of Oz," Henry said. "Is it like a sequel? Who is Ozma?"

"There are a bunch of Oz books. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is just the first one. This is third in the series," Paige said.

"Well, why didn't they make the others into movies?" Henry asked.

Paige put a bookmark in the book, closed it, and stood. "Beats me. So, are we going to start the tutoring?"

"Yes," Mr. Stiltskin said. "Shall we go inside?"

"I have a couple of questions, first. Stuff I want to know about the people I'm spending my time with."

"That isn't exactly part of – " Mr. Stitskin began, but then Henry cut him off, saying, "We'd be happy to answer your questions."

"Splendid. Now, what brought your family to Storybrooke?"

"We were driving around on a cross-country family vacation, and just sort of stopped here," Henry said.

"So, you didn't mean to come here? Where were you going?"

"We didn't so much have a place in mind. It was a spur of the moment thing."

"Who drives around without knowing where they're going?"

"Us, apparently. But it all worked out good."

"So, you're happy here."

"Sure. Happy enough. This place is cool."

"And that's why you stopped here, and decided to stay? Because it's cool?"

"We stopped for gas, and then food, because we were hungry, and a place to sleep 'cause we were tired. And then… we just liked it here. The people are cool."

Paige nodded. Then she said, "We don't get many strangers here. Haven't had any in a long time, actually."

Neither Henry nor Mr. Stiltskin knew what to say to that. Paige turned to Mr. Stiltskin, "You're awfully quiet. Nothing to add?"

"Well, I am here to add. And subtract. Multiply, divide. That's the reason for my presence. If it's socialization you're looking for, my grandson should be more than up to the task."

"You think I want to be friends?" Paige asked, incredulously.

"Well, you are asking a lot of questions," Henry said, smiling at her cheekily. "Didn't you say last time that I asked too many questions?"

"You asked me about my book," Paige said. "Why?"

Henry shrugged. "I like books."

"No, there was another reason. There's another reason you're in this town. And I'm going to find out what it is."

"Well, maybe we're both keeping secrets," Henry said. "Maybe if we learn to trust each other, we'll tell each other."

Paige scoffed. "I don't trust anybody."

"That's sad," Henry said.

"What, does everybody in your life tell you the truth all the time? Or are you just naive enough to think they do?"

Henry shook his head. "They don't always tell me everything. And I want to know stuff. But just because someone doesn't tell you everything doesn't mean you can't trust them. My parents keep secrets, but I trust them."

"So, you've never tried to figure out what their secrets are?" Paige asked.

Henry smiled. "I didn't say that."

Paige noticed Mr. Stiltskin was making a call. "Who are you calling?" she asked.

"My son," he said. "It seems you don't actually require my services. If this is more of a playdate - "

Paige scoffed again. "I'm eleven. I don't do playdates."

"Well, you're quite young for an actual date," Mr. Stiltskin said.

Paige's face grew red. "That's not what this is about either."

"Yes. I see. It's a battle of wits. But perhaps one better fought on the monkey bars than in the library?" Henry and Paige looked at each other. Both nodded. "Very well," Mr. Stiltskin said. "We'll walk over there, and if you're both still engaged in this battle in a few hours' time, I'll call Henry's father to come supervise."

"Why can't you stay with us, Grandpa?"

"Oh, I could. But as we've discussed, I have my own tasks to attend to. I think it best your father helps you with this endeavor for the foreseeable future, and it's best he start now."

---

After Emma had bought the supplies, she dropped Mary Margaret back at the theater with a promise to come and help if help was needed. Mary Margaret was grateful for her help; she knew she needed it. But Emma had also been right when she'd said that Mary Margaret needed to prove herself. She needed to do this alone.

"I got mouse traps," she said, "and poison for them, though poisoning a mouse seems a little harsh. Ashley mentioned in a text that she had some more humane ways to deal with mice, if we're interested. Of course, that would mean hiring her to help with the cleaning. We can talk about it. Anyway, I've also got a bunch of cleaning supplies, and I'm ready to get my hands dirty."

David turned to her, his face serious. "I want to show you something," he said, grabbing her hand before she could reply and pulling her along.

Her stomach dropped when she saw what he had been staring at. It was her cot, from when she had been living here.

"Why are you showing me this?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Someone was living here," he said, and Mary Margaret let out a breath. Someone. Not her. He didn't know.

"Well, the place was just sitting here. Can you blame someone for bunking down?"

"I just … why couldn't they stay in their own home?"

"Maybe they didn't have one."

"But … but how? My wife, she takes care of everyone. There can't be homeless people here. That would mean … that would mean there were people who weren't being taken care of. People who were scared and alone, and nobody noticed."

"Maybe they didn't want anybody to know. It's embarrassing, not being able to support yourself."

"But how can people help if they don't know?"

"This from the man who called me a leech."

"That's different."

"Is it? What if it was me living here? What would you say then?"

"We'd never let it come to that. Selena and I would take you in – "

"Would you? If I came to you hat in hand and said I needed a place to live because I couldn't afford rent, can you honestly say you wouldn't have slammed the door in my face?" David didn't answer, and Mary Margaret gave a bitter smile. "Not everyone in this town is as generous as my sister. Not everyone cares. There are people in this town, good people, who have nothing, no place to live, nobody to count on. They are truly and utterly alone. And since you like numbers, let me tell you that percentage-wise, the majority are women."

"That's not a percentage or a number. It's just a generalized statement," David said automatically.

Mary Margaret let out a puff of air. "Really? That's what you have to say?"

David sighed. "I'm sorry. I just … didn't know any of this was going on. I feel like I've been blind to a lot of things until recently and I … I don't like that feeling."

"Well, then do something about it. If you want to help people, then help people. It's not that hard."

"But how?"

"You know, I ran into Aria earlier. She was talking about how she would love a place to run away to. I'm not sure how serious she was; she was attacked by a stranger, so I imagine her husband's protection is something she's grateful for right now. But I've been thinking about this, all of this, and what to do with this place, and I've been thinking … what about a shelter?"

"Like a homeless shelter?"

"Or something like it. I can ask Emma. She's a social worker. If we want to do this, I'm sure she would know how. We can provide beds, and food, clothes, and … and just a safe place for women to run to if they're on their own and they need someone."

"That's … actually not a bad idea." David said, a small smile creeping across his face.

"And here I thought you'd be against it," Mary Margaret said. The David she knew would have likely said something about this being a drain on the city's resources. Maybe she had underestimated him. "I guess, sometimes, people surprise you."

"I guess so," David said with a chuckle, and despite herself, something in Mary Margaret's chest fluttered at the sound. "Why don't you call up Emma and ask if she can do some research for us? In the meantime, let's get this place cleaned."

Mary Margaret nodded. "I texted Ashley Boyd earlier, and she said she could be here within the hour to help us clean, if we want?"

David shrugged. "Why not? This is about helping people, right? If she needs a job, then … I'll make it work."

---

He was good at his job. He had to be. That was the only reason Mr. Fitz kept him around. He had an instinct for the drinks people liked, and was generally pretty good at guessing what they might order.

The woman who had just taken a seat at the bar, for example, she favored rum, plain and simple. He put one in front of her.

"I didn't order this," she said.

He nodded. "But you were going to," he said, sure of himself.

She shrugged, then downed the drink.

Ben thought he recognized her. "You're the principal at the local school, right?"

She nodded, "And you're Paige Hatter's legal guardian." He gave her a surprised look, and she gave another shrug. "I know all the parents. I couldn't do my job if I didn't. Though I believe it's been some time since you've come to a parent-teacher conference?"

Ben nodded. "Work keeps me plenty busy. Have to keep food on the table, you know?"

The principal, Ms. Jones, he believed her name was, gave him a skeptical look. "Earning a living has its place, but so does being there for your children."

"Well, technically, she's not mine."

"If you believe that, then she deserves better."

"How dare you?" Ben snapped. He wanted to jump across the bar and tackle her, but he would get in trouble for that. He clenched his fists and did his best to calm his temper. "Just because you don't have any kids of your own doesn't give you the right to tell others how to parent."

"Who says I don't have kids?"

"Because kids are what you want most. Kids, and family. It's your secret wish. But I can't grant it for you. You can't have Paige. And working with them won't fill that hole in your life and your heart."

"Ben!" a voice boomed behind him. "We don't yell at customers."

Mr. Fitz turned to Ms. Jones. "My apologies. Your drink is on the house."

Ms. Jones toasted him, then stood with the glass. "I think I'll go enjoy it at one of the empty tables, if it's all the same to you."

Once she was gone, Mr. Fitz said between clenched teeth, "Don't you ever speak to a customer like that again, or you'll be out on the street with the rats. And don't think her drink isn't coming out of your paycheck."

"I'm good at my job," Ben protested. "I deserve – "

"You deserve nothing. I should have fired you ages ago. You're a piece of entitled filth. Do you think I don't see you squandering your paycheck at the card table every night? Then you complain to me about the child you have at home. You're no father. No role model. You think the world owes you something, but it doesn't. No matter where you come from, getting what you want in this world takes work. You can't expect things to happen just because you wish for them. Do your work, and you'll be paid. Screw up again, and you won't have any money to lose at the card table."

---

It was hot. A very dry sort of hot. Zelena had never been to a place as hot as this. The sun seemed a tad too bright and the buildings were strange … but then, King Leopold's kingdom had held strange buildings in it as well. No, it was the heat she was noticing here. Too much heat! Zelena had never wanted water more in her life.

"Why, this is Agrabah!" Edward said beside her. "We've traded with Agrabah. I've never been myself, but I've studied it, seen pictures, you know?"

Zelena nodded, taking in her surroundings. They appeared to be in a sort of yard, though she had never seen a yard so dry and dead. There were a few plants, though none she recognized. And a small way to her left there was a goat taking food from a man with dark skin and a red scarf tied around his head. There was a skin of water on the ground next to him. Zelena didn't think about what she was doing really, but she was thirsty, and wasn't this how it always happened?

The skin was in her hand and she quickly quenched her thirst. But she didn't miss the way the man turned to her and Edward.

He was younger than she'd thought at first. Probably just around the same age as she was. Barely a man. His eyes met hers and he reached out his hand. The skin started to float back towards him but Zelena mimiced his motion and, for a moment, the skin froze in the air. It seemed almost alive, unsure of where to go and which master to listen to. Finally, the skin flew back to the man's hand. He approached her and Edward.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Before Zelena could speak, Edward did. "We hail from Misthaven and we've come to study magic. Can you teach us?"

The man looked at them for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between the pair of them. To Edward he said, "This school has but one student. That is not you." Then he turned his eyes back to Zelena. "You know magic already, it seems."

"I always have," Zelena said, drawing herself up proudly. "All my life. And I would make a fine student."

"We shall have wine." A strong and clearly female voice said from the doorway. "And we shall talk. I promise no more or less than that."

"Amara – ?"

"I saw and I heard everything you did," The woman, Amara, said. "Perhaps you have softened me up. I will decide who is a student here." Without another word, the woman disappeared inside the strange house and the man followed, gesturing to Zelena and Edward to accompany them.

"Tell me your names. Tell me where you are from," she said, pouring each of them wine, as they made themselves comfortable in the hall off the courtyard that was clearly designed for visitors

"My name is Zelena. I'm from a land called Oz," Zelena said, sitting up straight and trying to show her best face.

"Yes, and I'm from Misthaven. My name is Sam."

Before Zelena could so much as shoot Edward a look, the woman said, "And tell me, Sam of Misthaven and Zelena of Oz, how did you come to learn of me? And what makes you think I can teach you magic? Or that I would want to?"

Edward didn't speak; he looked to Zelena. Now was her time to impress. "I have a powerful object in my possession. It was a gift from in equally powerful wizard and when I use it, I can go where I want to. I wanted it to take us to a teacher, so here we are. And clearly, something magical thinks you would be willing to teach us."

Edward stared at her for a moment, glancing at her feet. "Your slippers? That's how you did it?" Well, she would have preferred he hadn't revealed that, but it was a little late now, she supposed. "So, you can't do magic then?"

"She can," Amara said. "She moved the water skin. She fought Jafar for it. But I think she is untrained. Raw power is what she has, and not a clue what to do with it. Am I right?"

The woman locked eyes with her. "Yes," Zelena admitted. "Yes, that's right. My father never wanted me to learn. He thought it was wicked, what it did."

Amara smiled. "Well, it is."

Zelena's eyes widened. "It is? But I thought … I'm sorry, don't you do magic?"

"Yes, I do. And while I've never used the term 'wicked' to describe what I do, it certainly isn't light magic. But then, why should that be a bad thing?" She inclined her head toward the young man. "When Jafar came to me, he was honest about what he wanted. Revenge. He wanted to know the ways of dark magic. That is all I can teach you. If you wish to learn light magic, find a fairy and be done with it."

"Fairies don't share their secrets with us," Edward said.

"Yes. And what a pity for you. To be royalty and still be deprived, to know there is someone out there more powerful than you."

"I never said I was – "

"I have known many peasants. None speak like you do. None dress like you do. You are a royal if I ever saw one, and you've never done magic in your life."

"I … I could learn."

Amara was quiet for a minute. "Perhaps," she said, taking a sip of wine. "I will give you each two weeks worth of lessons. Once I know what I have to work with, we will move forward from there." She stood and smoothed out her skirt. It was the most ladylike thing Zelena had seen her do. "Jafar, show them where they may sleep for the night."

"Well, I suppose that's it then, isn't it?" Edward said to her, smiling.

"Yes. This way," the man said. He seemed quite amicable now, and quite charming. But Zelena had not forgotten the look he had given her when she'd first arrived nor how they had fought over the water skin.

---

"So, why did you want my grandfather to teach you?" Henry asked. That was the big question, he knew. Paige wanted something from him — or from his family — but it wasn't lessons. The two of them had been at the park for a little bit now. His father had come and relieved his grandfather of babysitting duties pretty early on, but he and Paige still hadn't gotten to the root of what she wanted. Henry decided it was time for the direct approach.

"Why does anyone want a tutor?"

"You're good at math. You have to be. You run a gambling game after school. You use real money, and that means math. Plus, you let my grandfather leave, and you're still here."

"I heard your grandfather had lunch with the mayor," Paige said, still not answering his question. "Is he friends with her?"

"I wouldn't say friends. Why? Do you think he should be?"

"I think she's dangerous. She's wicked and evil."

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Henry's head. "Wicked and Evil? As in the wicked witch and the evil queen?"

Paige squinted at him. "What exactly do you know… or think you know?"

"What do you know?" Henry shot back.

"Well, I know everyone in this town thinks the mayor poops rainbows, but your family doesn't. You guys aren't from here. Everyone here is from here."

"It's more than that," Henry said. "It's the curse. You know about it, don't you?"

"I know about something," Paige said. "Maybe it's a curse. Maybe it's something else."

"How though?" Henry asked. "The book said that the people who were cursed wouldn't remember or realize it, and nobody else seems to."

"What book?" Paige asked.

Henry looked back and forth, making sure nobody but Paige and his dad were around, then said, "Can I trust you? If I show you something, will you keep it to yourself?"

Paige shrugged. "Maybe."

"This can't be a maybe. This book is dangerous. If the mayor found out – "

"I wouldn't tell her, obviously. I wouldn't tell anyone in her inner circle. But maybe after you show me what you're going to show me, I can introduce you to someone. And maybe that someone can see it too."

Henry nodded. Then he reached inside his backpack and pulled out the storybook. "This book has a bunch of fairy tales, but not like the ones in normal books. And I think they're the true stories. What really happened. And at the end … it talks about a curse that brought people to a land without magic, and I think it means this town."

"And what makes you so sure it's real? How do you know it's not just a book?"

"I can't tell you that. It has to do with protecting my family."

"The person I'm going to introduce you to, she has to do with my family," Paige said, not meeting Henry's eyes, "Seems only fair."

Henry sighed. "Well, it talks about someone who can break the curse, too, and I think, I have reason to think that it's someone in my family."

"So, you're from a fairy tale too?" Paige asked.

"Not me. Or my dad or grandfather. But my mom … Just read it."

So she did.

---

The first thing Ashley did when she arrived was throw out the mouse traps.

"I paid for those!" Mary Margaret protested.

"We can't use them," Ashley said.

"Well, then you could have at least let me return them," Mary Margaret retorted, but Ashley didn't seem to hear her.

"These are better," Ashley said, producing a plastic cup with a hole cut in its bottom and a stick going through the hole, as well as a bucket and a jar of peanut butter.

"What in the world?" Mary Margaret asked.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever –" David began.

"We can buy live catch traps, if you like. On the town's dime, of course. But in the meantime, these will do in a pinch."

She put a bit of peanut butter on the cup. Then she placed the bucket on the floor and balanced the stick across the top of the bucket with the cup in the middle.

"That can't possibly work," Mary Margaret said.

"They've always worked for me. The mouse goes for the peanut butter and ends up trapped in the bucket. Then we set it free outside."

"What about poison pellets?" David asked.

"Those are ineffective. And even if the mice eat them, they'll crawl in the walls and die there, smelling up the place. Do you want dead mice in your walls? Besides, it's barbaric and cruel. The mice haven't done anything wrong."

"They don't belong in buildings with people." David said.

"They might say the buildings and people don't belong here. The mice were here first, after all, before the land was developed. We're encroaching on their territory, and then we have the gall to kill them."

"So, what, we should let them live here, make them pets, give them names?" David asked sarcastically.

"Of course not. They carry diseases. But you wouldn't kill someone for being sick, would you? You'd just make them quarantine or something. Now, we can stand here arguing about this, or you can work with me to set up the rest of the traps. They'll work, trust me. And if you're too much of a baby to empty them out into the wild, I'll do it myself."

"Isn't there a more permanent way to deal with it? We can't be constantly cleaning out traps, humane or otherwise."

"Well, I brought cotton balls and some oil we can soak them in. if we put them where the mice like to hang out, that should repel them. But the best thing we can do is seal up all the nooks, crannies, and holes where mice might get in. I'd recommend hiring someone to fill in the holes, but make sure they know what mice can and can't chew through."

"Hank can help with that!" Mary Margaret said.

"Fine," David said with a wince. "I'll just employ the whole town, then."

"This is a good thing," Mary Margaret said. "Giving jobs and places to live to people in need. This is what the town should have been doing all along."

"Are you implying the town hasn't always had its citizens' best interests at heart? Your sister –"

"I know how amazing my sister is, David. Don't forget, I've known her longer than you. But one person can't fix everything. It takes a village, and well, maybe we can be that village."

---

Zelena wasn't quite sure what to do with the offer. Mr. Gold was an unknown variable, which was something she hadn't had to deal with for a long time. He seemed a bit taken with her, which was flattering, especially since she knew it wasn't the work of the curse.

But that was the difficult bit, wasn't it? He wasn't part of the curse. Aside from it meaning she couldn't control him or predict his movements, there was the larger question of how he was here in the first place. Was he from their world? How had he crossed over, if not as part of the curse? And what did he want?

He seemed harmless enough on the outside, an older gentleman with a limp who worked as a tutor, of all things. Yet her instincts said there was power inside him. Was it power she should fear, or power she could use for her own ends? And what were his ends? Did he simply mean to court her, or did he have something more devious in mind? The last person to court her, a man she'd trusted … well, it hadn't turned out well. She didn't want to open herself up to that again. But if his interest was genuine …

It was often useful to talk out these sorts of dilemmas, but her options on that front were sorely limited. She had a cursed husband, not to mention two other men's hearts in her hand, and a cursed town all happy to sing her praises, but that didn't mean she could talk to them about anything real. They didn't know they were cursed, and she certainly wasn't going to enlighten them. Aside from that, did she really want to discuss all of this with someone who would just mindlessly agree with her?

There was Maleficent, of course. Having her old frenemy awake could have its uses, but she was starting to suspect that Mal had her own endgame she was working towards, and her answers could be colored by that.

No, the best answer was the most obvious. She would talk to the person she had always talked to, the one person who she had left awake through all of this, because it was the most delicious revenge she could devise. It was time to visit the asylum.

---

Over the course of two weeks, Zelena learned spells. There was still much more to learn, but she was getting control of her magic. She thought Amara might well ask her to stay.

Edward took his lessons separately from her, but he seemed pleased with them. And they spent the nights talking and drinking and laughing. It was quite the life. She was wary of Jafar, but she trusted Edward. More than trusted, she thought, though the word for what exactly she felt escaped her.

Then the two weeks were up.

"Well, I suppose the time has come. I should send you two on your way."

"On our way?" Zelena asked. "I don't understand. I thought we were doing well?"

"You have both met my expectations, and I've made plans for both of you. First, however, I need your slippers."

"My slippers? I … I …"

"I have a way to send you to the next stop in your training. And once you have learned all you can there, you won't need them. You'll be able to travel between realms at your leisure. As I can."

Sighing, Zelena nodded. She took off her slippers and handed them over to Amara who replaced them with sandals. Then Amara handed Zelena a wrapped package. "This will take you to the land that is the next step in your training. Simply say I sent you."

Zelena nodded that she understood. "We should go now, then, to this land?"

"No, Zelena, you should go. Edward's fate lies elsewhere."

"I don't – "

"Edward, you have shown promise, but you if you are to unlock your true potential, you must return to your kingdom. Only there will you learn the skills you seek."

"You want to split us up?" Zelena asked, outraged.

"It is what is best for both of you. I have been a good teacher, haven't I? You trusted my judgment, and you learned?" Both of them nodded. It was true, after all, that she had been a good teacher. "Then listen to what I tell you. Return to Misthaven, your highness. Zelena, use the portal I have given you. You will both end up where you belong."

Zelena turned to Edward. "This isn't forever. I'll come back to rule at your side."

"Yes, of course."

Before she could think about it, Zelena kissed him. It was just the once, quick on the lips. Then, cheeks burning, she ran off.

"I haven't learned to transport myself," Edward said. "How will I – ?"

With a wave of her hand and a puff of red smoke, Edward was whisked back to Misthaven.

"Bright futures for them both?" Jafar asked.

Amara laughed. "I cannot speak to what kind of king he'll make, but he's no sorcerer. No magical ability at all. I taught him parlor tricks. That'll keep him satisfied for a while."

"And the girl? You saw potential in her?"

"Yes, too much. That much raw power unchecked … I can't trust her as I do you. Training her so late in the game, I have no way to know which way the wind will blow. So, I sent her to a very dangerous land with no way to get back."

"And you remained the most powerful in the land," Jafar finished.

"We do. We're a team, you and I. In fact, I have something to show you. Come inside Jafar."

"It would be unwise to disobey."

---

"So?" Henry asked, as soon as Paige closed the book. It had taken long enough for her to read it, in his opinion.

"Can you make your question more specific?" she asked, turning back to the front of the book and examining the cover.

"Well, you've finished reading it. Do you believe?" She didn't answer, just continued examining the cover and first couple of pages. Henry grabbed for the book, but Paige kept it out of his reach. "Come on, you finished. I saw you finish!"

"Who wrote this?" Paige asked.

Henry shrugged. "I don't know."

"And you never thought to look?"

"Never seemed important," Henry said. "Why?"

"Because most books have an author listed, but this book doesn't. It also doesn't have a copyright date or a publishing company. Where did you get it?"

"From a dumpster," Henry said.

"What?" his father, who was only standing so far away spoke up suddenly. Henry had nearly forgotten he was there, as he seemed to be trying to give the kids their space, but apparently now he just had to interrupt. "I thought you said it was gift."

"It was. But it was also from a dumpster. It was my first day in town. This woman was looking for it and I helped her find it in a dumpster, but then she said I could have it."

"And that didn't seem strange to you?" his dad asked.

"Duh. Of course, it did. This town is strange. That's the whole point."

"So, you think that this town is where all the fairy tale characters were sent?" Paige asked.

"That depends. Is that what you think?'

Paige nodded. "It lines up with what I know. Assuming it isn't all one big delusion. Still, I'd love to know where this book came from. Why would the Wicked Queen even let something like this exist?"

"And why would she let you know about the curse?" Henry's father asked. "It seems kind of fishy to me. You're from this town. You should be cursed as well. So, how do you know anything about it?"

"If this is true," Paige said, "Then I am cursed. But I know someone who isn't."

"Who?" Henry asked.

"A friend of my sister's," Paige said. "And I think we should all go talk to her."

---

"I think it's a great idea," Emma said into the phone. "A women's shelter is exactly what this place needs."

"So, can you help?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Absolutely. Let me do a little research. But Mary Margaret, this is good. I'm so proud of you!"

"I don't remember the last time someone told me they were proud of me."

"Yeah, well, sometimes people suck. But next time you doubt yourself, I want you to remember this moment, and maybe, be a little proud of yourself."

"Thank you, Emma. Really. I don't know what … I'm just so glad you moved here."

"Me too."

---

Aria hadn't gone back to Granny's since that night. Henry's parents, Emma and her husband, knew that she'd been sneaking in there now. Emma had been supportive, but she still didn't think that hiding out with Henry was the best course of action anymore.

It was a shame. She liked Henry. He was a good kid. It had been nice to bump into him outside the ice cream shop today. It wasn't just about Henry, though. It had been nice to have a safe place to hide from Jack. She didn't have that anymore. Now, she had to go home. She had to face her husband.

Jack came to greet her when she got back, which was ominous. His noticing her never led to anything good.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

Aria nodded, though she doubted she had much of a choice. Jack led her over to the couch, and the two of them sat down, "Things ain't been right with us for a while. And I know a lot of that is on me." Aria stared at him in shock. It wasn't like him to take responsibility for the holes in their marriage. "I ain't proud of who I've been as of late," he said. "That ain't the man I want to be. So, we need to do something about it. I need to do something about it."

"Like what?"

"Well, we can't go splitting up. Wouldn't look right given … everything. But maybe we give each other a wide berth. Stay out of each other's way and … I don't know, I could try to be nicer. Like, I know I've been tight on the purse-strings, 'cause I'm the one bringin' in the money an' all, but ain't no reason you shouldn't be able to buy the things you need. Within reason, a'course, but like, don't be afraid to buy food and what'not. An', I don't know just … let's just try not to make each other so miserable, yeah?"

Aria nodded again. "What brought this on?"

Jack shook his head. "I just … you ever wake up an' not recognize the person you see in the mirror? Sometimes, I feel like this ain't my life. Like I stepped into someone else's boots overnight, and somehow I'm here, and I ain't got a clue how I got here. And I know it ain't perfect. We can't have the things we want. But maybe we can have a little better than what we have. Maybe I can be a little better."

Aria wanted to believe him. He sounded so sincere. But could she trust this? She felt tears prickle in the corner of her eyes and saw something flash across his face. It was a hint of anger, and she knew he hated to see her cry. But then, something happened. He took a breath, and the look of anger was gone.

"Thank you," she said.

Jack nodded and stood up. "I'm gonna head to bed. Sleep good, yeah?"

Once he was gone, Aria went to the bathroom to wash her face. Did she ever look in the mirror and not recognize herself, he had asked her? Yes, every day. But maybe that could change.

---

Zelena eagerly unwrapped the package and found that it held, of all things, a mirror. But she was no longer a novice. She could sense its magic. So, she reached out her hand and went through the looking glass to a new magical land.

---

It was surprising easy to get into the asylum, Neal reflected. Paige apparently came all the time to visit her sister, and once she told the attendant that he and Henry were her guests, they were waved through without issue.

They made their way past a series of padded rooms, most of which appeared to be empty.

Paige paused outside one marked Lydia Alston. "This is my sister's room," she said. "She's funny in the head. I'm … not entirely sure if it's the curse, or if that's just how she is. Sometimes she's totally normal. Others … she gets confused." Paige took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "But we're not here to see her. Not this time."

She kept walking, Neal and Henry following behind her.

"This place is super creepy," Henry said, and Neal couldn't help but agree.

"We're almost there," Paige said.

"So, if we're not visiting your sister, who is the person who we are visiting? How do you even know them?" Henry asked.

"I come here a lot, to visit my sister," Paige said. "I've wandered around. There aren't a lot of other patients. But there's one girl … she seemed pretty normal, except she talked about a curse and … and I don't know why I believed her exactly, but the stuff she was saying seemed to make sense. She didn't seem crazy to me. I wasn't sure if she was right, but I wasn't convinced she was wrong either. And then you guys came to town and … and stuff started adding up. Or not adding up. You know what I mean."

Paige stopped short, and the rest of them followed suit. Neal tried to make out the name on the door they'd stopped in front of, but it had been scratched out. Paige made to grab the doorknob when Neal heard a familiar voice coming from the room. He quickly grabbed Paige's arm before she could turn the doorknob. She starred at him quizzically. He motioned to the door and then pointed to his ear. The three of them pressed their ears to the door, catching Mayor Mills mid-sentence.

"There's a new family in town. They're causing trouble."

"How is that possible?"

"I haven't the foggiest, which is rather irritating. Suddenly things are happening. People are becoming happier. Will Scarlet took his lunch break today. His little wife is growing a backbone and has befriended a ten-year-old. The snowflake has made a friend. And the patriarch of the family has been sniffing around my unmentionables. Of course, I could take a lover, and his being someone who isn't cursed has a certain appeal that using one of my heart puppets never would. But that's the thing, isn't it? These people aren't cursed, and somehow, they came to my town. Time is moving, and I don't know why."

"Afraid your castle is crumbling down," another woman said.

"Not if I can help it."

"And where do I fit in? Why tell me all of this, or any of it?"

"Because my pretty, none of my other confidants have a brain to put together. They're all cursed. And you're wide awake."

"I'm awake because you keep me awake to torture me. Do you honestly think I would ever help you?"

Mayor Mills laughed. "Of course not. But you also know the truth, and you can't do anything about it. It makes you the perfect person to talk to. Oh, chin up, Dorothy. Pouting just makes you look like a lost little girl from some nowhere place in Kansas. Besides, I think you'd be happy to have a visitor. It's not like anyone else ever comes here."

"Dorothy?" Neal whispered.

"She's coming," Henry whispered back. He was right. Neal could hear footsteps getting closer.

"We have to hide," Paige said. "She can't find us here."

Neal glanced frantically around the corridor as the footsteps got closer. The doorknob began to turn.