References: S1E19—The Return.

Chapter Fifty

She was filthy and frightened and looked as though she'd been wearing the same clothes since her disappearance, but Kathryn Nolan was very much alive. "Easy," Emma said, keeping her voice low. "Easy. You're safe."

Kathryn's eyes darted in all directions.

"Do you know where you are?"

Her forehead creased and her eyes narrowed in an anguished frown. For a moment, she didn't reply. Then, "Granny's." It was barely a whisper.

Belatedly, Emma realized that maybe she should have led with something easier. "Do you know who you are?"

This time the answer came at once. "Kathryn Nolan."

"Do you know who I am?"

Kathryn brought a hand quickly to her forehead. "Sheriff," she said, wincing. And then, a moment later, "Swan?"

"I've taken the liberty of summoning an ambulance." Gold's voice was very close. "One might think that the hospital possesses both the professionals and the equipment to assess Mrs. Nolan's condition, as opposed to your little game of twenty questions."

The fact that Gold was probably right didn't do anything to combat the surge of annoyance that leaped up within her as she turned her head to face him.

Unperturbed, Gold continued, "Might I suggest that you go inside to inform the bailiffs of this new development? Unless you'd prefer them to finish their coffees and set off again while you sit there arguing with me."

Emma bit back a profanity. "Stay with her until the ambulance gets here," she snapped. Seeing a flash of panic in Kathryn's eyes, she added, "Try not to scare her." Then she pushed herself to her feet and raced toward the diner.

Mrs. Lucas hadn't turned down the heat, even though the evening was warmer than usual for this time of year. August opened the window, letting in the sounds of the outdoors—but no gust of cool air accompanied them. With a sigh, he turned and headed into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.

A glimpse of his reflection brought him up short. The glistening perspiration looked just a bit too much like the sheen of linseed oil on carved wood. If Emma didn't realize her destiny soon, one day in the not-so-distant future, it would be.

He was relieved that he'd been able to talk Baelfire out of approaching the Dark One. August had a plan, and it would fall apart in a heartbeat if Rumpelstiltskin knew who Neal Cassidy truly was. For a brief moment, he thought about offering to divulge that bit of information to the Dark One himself, but he quickly reconsidered.

There was magic in this land. Not much of it, but it was there. Once, centuries ago, the Dark One had held fast to his magic and let his son go to fall into another realm. August suspected that, even if the Dark One had spent the intervening years trying to find a way to follow Baelfire to this 'land without magic', he would only do so if he were able to find a way to bring his own magic with him.

"I will always find you, Pinocchio. You carry my magic inside you and magic always calls to its own."

Long ago, the Blue Fairy had told him that when she'd brought him back to Papa after one of his many escapades. She hadn't specified—and he hadn't thought to ask—whether she could always find her magic or any magic, but if it were the latter, then that would also mean that the Dark One would also hear the call of whatever small magic was scattered about this realm. And if magic meant that much to him, then the Dark One had probably been collecting it all this time.

On the plus side, a Dark One with magic was a Dark One in a position to help August with his current situation.

On the minus side, a Dark One with magic was a very dangerous person to cross.

If August went to him and tried to offer Baelfire's whereabouts in exchange for the cure he needed, there was a good chance he'd find himself locked up for interrogation in someplace a bit more out of the way than a holding cell at the sheriff's station. And the last person who'd tried withholding information from the Dark One was still recovering from his injuries.

No, August realized. The best way to get the help he needed was to convince Rumpelstiltskin that he was Baelfire. And if he was to do that, then he needed to get on with it. Before the real Baelfire beat him to it.

"Whoa, wait," Neal said when he could get a word in edgewise. "Slow down. You're saying that Kathryn's been alive all this time? Then… whose heart was in the jewelry box?"

"I don't know," Emma snapped. "There hasn't been another missing person report since before Kathryn disappeared. But believe me," she added, "I'm going to have a bunch of questions for the crime lab in the morning."

"And Kathryn? Or did you already talk to her?"

"She wasn't up for answering questions," Emma said. "Not exactly surprising. I left her with Gold and Ruby and ran into the diner to make sure the bailiffs released Mary Margaret. Would you believe they actually wanted to drive her down to Ellsworth anyway and wait for the paperwork to come through? I had to argue with them for a good ten minutes and even then, they insisted on driving back to the sheriff's station instead of letting her go on the spot. By the time we got back outside, the ambulance had come. I figured they had things under control, so I headed back to the station to get Mary Margaret's release paperwork done. I called the hospital afterwards and they're keeping her overnight. Probably a little longer. I'll go in the morning."

Neal nodded. "At least you found her before Mary Margaret left town."

Emma started to nod. Then her eyes widened. "Yeah," she said slowly. "I did."

"Emma?"

"Henry told me that—except for the two of us and August—people don't come to Storybrooke, and they don't leave it either."

"Well, it's not like there are any major tourist attractions here," Neal interjected.

Emma didn't smile back. "Yeah, and this is right in the middle of tourist country. First seaside town I've visited with only one bed and breakfast, no other hotels or motels, and almost nobody staying."

"It's the off-season, don't forget."

"I know, but when I first came here looking for a room, they acted like I was the first person who'd ever tried to check in. And there's more. Ashley tried to drive out of town and crashed her car. Kathryn, same thing."

"I'm not going to make a sexist crack about women drivers, just so you know. But, well… you did total a sign yourself."

"After downing some cider nobody told me had a higher alcohol content than normal," Emma shot back. "Something's not right here."

"You seriously think this place is a giant mind control experiment?" Neal asked.

"I don't know. Neal, I know it sounds crazy but, I do think there's something screwy going on. Why does everyone who tries to leave get… stopped before the town line? Three people—me included—had car accidents and…"

"Mary Margaret had hungry guards?" Neal frowned. "Or are you starting to think Henry's right about there being a curse on this place?" he asked, his expression serious.

"I'm not that far gone," Emma snorted. "All the same, four people have tried to leave. Four people were… prevented from doing so."

"You left a couple of times."

"Yeah, but even that first time, when I dropped off Henry, got back on the road, and turned around again? I'd made up my mind to stay. I just hadn't realized it yet."

"And the town…. Or some weird… force… knew it?"

Emma sighed. "Neal, weird stuff keeps happening. Someone is trying to keep this town… cut off from the rest of civilization. Something is keeping everyone here. I don't know how. Maybe there's some sort of… mechanism like that electronic… wheel clamp thing that locks your shopping cart if you take it too far out of the store. Maybe there's that same kind of things on all the cars here, locking them down at the town line."

"Uh… I don't think—"

"And Kathryn turning up just in the nick of time to save Mary Margaret? We're being played, Neal. Big time. I don't know if it's by Gold or Regina or some… secret mastermind we haven't met, but believe me, I'm going to find out."

In the moment it took Neal to collect his thoughts and close his gaping mouth, Emma had pushed back her chair and retreated in the direction of the bedroom. He got up to follow her and then sat back down again. Planting an elbow on the table, he rested his forehead in his hand. He needed to tell Emma the truth. If she'd been at least open to the idea of magic or curses, he might have tried. But every time she started spouting this CIA mind control theory, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but he didn't have the words to dissuade her either.

August woke up with a start shortly before dawn. His leg—his good leg was jerking spasmodically. Panicked, he gripped it and found himself sliding out of bed. He landed heavily on the floor with a thud that horrified him. Unhurt, he rolled up his pajama leg and felt a sick chill wash over him. He gripped the nightstand, hauled himself upright, and reached for his phone.

A moment later, a startled voice answered. "Hello?"

"You're up?" August asked, trying to stay calm. No point freaking out a kid just because he was getting more scared all the time. "Good. Look, things are taking too long. We need to speed them up. Uh, I forget. It's Saturday. What time does Gold open the shop? Okay. Meet me there at ten to nine; we need to do this first thing before anyone else gets there…"

Neal knew he had to speak to his father. The conversation was going to happen—either now or down the road, once the Curse broke—and if it happened now, Neal thought he'd have a little more control over the situation. If he left matters too long, then when the Curse broke, Papa was going to come hunting for him. Sooner or later, Papa would realize that his son had been here for weeks, right under his nose, and then the confrontation would happen anyway and Neal wouldn't be able to choose when or how.

Plus, once the Curse broke, he was going to have a lot of explaining to do to Emma. If he had to deal with a justifiably-angry fiancée on top the father he'd never wanted to see again, but who had spent the last couple of centuries or so trying to find him, he'd… he'd… Well, truth be told, he didn't know what he'd do, but he really hoped he wouldn't turn tail and run like…

Like the knight commander said Papa did all those years ago in the Ogre War.

Neal winced. Back then, he'd not only loved his father; he'd looked up to him. His not-quite-fourteen-year-old self had bristled at the insult, but his anger had been nothing compared to the pain he'd felt when he'd realized that the knight commander had been speaking the truth. At the time, he'd wondered how his papa could have fled the battlefield, leaving the others to be slaughtered by ogres. Later, in his bitterest moments, he'd even wondered whether Papa had, perhaps, been supposed to act as a sentry and that it was because he had run that the battalion had been massacred.

Well, if Henry's book had the right of it, the running had been a bit more figurative than literal. Had Papa been afraid to fight? Yes. But he hadn't abandoned his fellows or deserted his post. He hadn't run. But if the boy he'd been had thought less of his father when he'd believed otherwise, what would the man he was now think of himself if he fled from the woman he loved, the son he was coming to, and the father he was coming to realize he'd never truly hated as much as he'd thought?

He looked up from his coffee as Emma came into the kitchen. "Going into the station?" he asked, seeing that she was already wearing the brown sheriff's jacket.

Emma shook her head. "I'm going to the hospital to see if Kathryn's able to make a statement. Hopefully, she'll remember something about where she's been or who took her there. Does Marco need you today?"

"Nah," Neal said. "I'm probably going to take things easy. Maybe I'll head out in a bit and take a walk."

"Sounds good," Emma grinned, leaning in for a kiss. "We'll talk later. Love you."

"Love you, too."

He watched her leave and settled in to finish his coffee. At five to nine, he pushed back his chair, got up, and went out, headed in the direction of Papa's shop.

He was halfway down the block, when he saw a number of round objects hurtling in his general direction. On reflex he flung himself backwards, pressing his body tightly against a nearby storefront. A moment later, he realized that the road was littered with an assortment of multi-colored rubber balls in various sizes. As he watched them roll to a stop, he saw Jim Jeffries come running up, a furious look on his face. When he saw Neal, he slowed and walked toward him.

"I'd love to get my hands on the idiot who didn't make sure that the back was secured before I drove off with these," he said, gesturing toward the Pontiac Acadian parked half a block away, its hatchback wide open. "Unfortunately, I've got this nagging suspicion it was me." He sighed. "Don't suppose you've got time to lend a hand before some other car comes barreling along?"

Neal grinned. "Hey, anything for a guy I was doing search and rescue with less than two weeks ago."

"You heard they found her, right?" Jim asked seriously.

Neal nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes it helps living with the sheriff. You get the inside scoop a little sooner. Assuming it's not confidential, of course," he added.

"Right. Say, do you know how she's doing? Kathryn?"

Neal shook her head. "All I know is that she's getting looked at in the hospital."

"Do you think that she and David are going to reconcile?"

Neal frowned. "I don't know. I mean, he was having an affair. Not my business, but that's kind of hard to let slide. If it were me, anyway. No judgment if the two of them do want another go at it, but…" His voice trailed off as he registered the tiny smile on Jim's face and the flicker of hope in his eyes. "Oh my G-d," he said. "You love her!"

Jim actually blushed. "It's… it's not like that. We've known each other forever; par for the course in a small town, I guess. We've always gotten along, but after she took up with David, I figured I'd missed my chance." He winced. "Is it sleazy of me to think that maybe I've got a second one now?"

Neal shrugged. "Not if she and David are calling it quits. But I'd check first." He bent down and scooped up two of the balls.

"Thanks," Jim said. "I'm taking them over to the square. Monday's field day for the elementary and I was asked to bring over some of the gym equipment." He snorted. "Bet it'll be a long time before they ask me again."

"Well, not if we get all this stuff reloaded and delivered," Neal said. And then, more seriously, "Don't lose hope."

Jim blinked and gave him a cautious smile.

Kathryn didn't remember much about her ordeal. She'd been in a basement somewhere, then drugged—or probably drugged all along, Emma thought. Then she'd been dumped in a field and started walking to town, collapsing in the diner's parking lot.

Just before Mary Margaret was going to leave. As if someone wanted to keep her here. Why?

Everything was just a bit too… Emma didn't even know what. But there was something behind the scenes that was keeping everyone here; she didn't think Henry was wrong on that part. Not a curse, of course; that was silly. But if this town was an artificial environment, like a test zone, then it would make sense to keep the subjects confined here.

She'd been able to come and go. So had Henry. Neal hadn't tried, she didn't think. But Henry had been brought in from outside. She and Neal had come voluntarily. Maybe the people who were part of the experiment were being kept here, and outsiders were free to leave anytime? Or maybe only some people were stuck here?

Emma's mind was going a mile a minute. I keep going back and forth over whether Regina's in charge, or just another… victim? Test subject? Maybe she's a bit of both, sort of here to keep an eye on the others, but also being observed and tested. What if she got tired of being stuck here in a small town where every day is pretty much like the next, and she gave the testers some kind of ultimatum, like… Like, "Get me a child to raise, or I'm out of here, and if you try to stop me, I'll tell everyone what's really going on!"

She turned that theory over in her head and decided it made sense. It explained how Henry could have ended up here, and how Regina seemed to be in charge. It didn't explain why nobody remembered a mayor before she'd taken office…

Kathryn doesn't remember where she was or who abducted her or…

Drugs? Maybe something in the water supply? And now, after some time had passed, people were building up a tolerance and starting to wake up? Only, why wasn't Henry affected? Or her or Neal, for that matter?

Again, she thought about brainwashing. Conditioning or post-hypnotic suggestion might keep people from thinking about leaving, but Kathryn showing up right before Mary Margaret was due to be driven out couldn't be coincidence. And she and Ashley had both thought about leaving.

It felt to Emma like she was staring down a kaleidoscope, trying to make sense of the colored glass patterns. And just as it started to come together, someone gave the thing a twist and everything shifted again!

And whatever was going on, Emma sensed that she was getting closer to the truth every day. A dead sheriff, a schoolteacher falsely accused of murder… Quaint seaside towns in Maine—at least those not named Cabot Cove—didn't get this kind of stuff. Not all at once, anyway.

She smiled grimly. Whoever was running this show, whatever their plan…

They were getting desperate.

And it was just a matter of time until she found out why.

Rumpelstiltskin was having a rather perturbing morning. His first customer of the day had been young Henry Mills, there to purchase a gift for Miss Blanchard to celebrate her release. He'd been delighted to help with that. He'd always had something that might, in others, have been termed a soft spot for the lad, though it was only since his mind had awakened that he'd realized that it was because Henry reminded him so of Bae at that age. And of course, Henry's adoration for his teacher annoyed Regina no end and Rumple certainly didn't mind annoying Regina!

Finding August Booth poking about in his back room with some feeble excuse about mistaking the shop's back door for its entrance, however, had rattled him more than it should have. He didn't keep anything incriminating back there, nothing that someone like Booth would recognize, at any rate.

And yet, there had been something about the young man's reaction when confronted that had made Rumple think that Booth knew exactly whose shop he'd crept into and what its owner was capable of. The notion, of course, was preposterous. Booth had only recently arrived here and had no idea what was really going on. Doubtless, much like Cassidy, he'd heard a few too many rumors and believed more than half of them.

And yet, unlike Cassidy, he'd come sneaking into the shop, looking for… what, precisely?

Rumple couldn't say, but he was beginning to think that there was more to August W. Booth than he'd originally assumed. Perhaps…

No. No, he wouldn't dare to hope for that. Not yet. But there weren't many people not of this town who knew anything about him, in this land or in the other.

Then again, perhaps Booth was just an opportunistic thief, come in while Rumple was serving a customer to see if there was anything of obvious value that he might abscond with.

He didn't know and he couldn't act until he did. He didn't suffer robbers gently, but if Booth was who Rumple suspected he might be, then he dared not react as he would to any common burglar. If he wasn't, well, that would be a different matter entirely, but until he knew the truth, he could do nothing but watch, wait, and worry.

And so, he welcomed Regina's presence, when she stormed into his shop, steaming with tightly-contained rage, as she snarled, "You broke our deal."

Neal had been trying to avoid his father for so long, that he couldn't help but appreciate the irony of his current situation. He managed to help Jim reload the balls in the back of his truck and even managed to secure a tarp and some good cord to keep them from bouncing out this time around.

When he got back to the shop, though, it was to find a familiar Mercedes parked in front. No, there was no way that he was going to talk to Papa in front of the Evil Queen. He'd just wait until she was gone before he went inside.

A new thought occurred to him. Regina had attempted to bug both the sheriff station and their home. Was he absolutely positive that she wasn't similarly monitoring the shop? Papa was smart and he knew who he was dealing with and what she was capable of, but until very recently, that had not been the case. If Regina had planted a bug in the shop at some point during the twenty-eight years before Emma's arrival, it was just barely possible that it had gone unnoticed. And if it had, then there was no way that he was about to let Regina know just who he was. That bit of intel could give her leverage over himself, Papa, and Emma, depending on what she wanted to do with it. No, he'd have to find a way to get Papa out in the woods, away from prying ears and eyes. It was the right idea, but far easier said than done.

He was heading away when he saw a familiar figure lounging against the mailbox on the corner.

"Still can't bring yourself to go in?" August drawled.

Neal sighed. "It's complicated. At first, I didn't know if he'd changed. I still don't, but I think… maybe."

"And if Emma breaks the Curse and his skin goes all gold again?"

"Maybe it won't."

August shook his head. "Guess you'd know better than me," he said.

Neal winced. "Not really. And there's also the risk of someone else finding out," his gaze flicked meaningfully toward the mayor's car.

August nodded. "I hear you, bro."

"We aren't brothers," Neal informed him pointedly.

"Okay, okay, sheesh!" August raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Try to be friendly and get your head bitten off," he continued in an undertone.

Neal sighed. "Sorry, but seriously? This is something I need to work out. Not really looking for a sounding board or a shoulder to cry on. I'll talk to him, but it's got to be at the right time and in the right place—which probably won't be the shop."

August shrugged. "Got it. I'll back off. But if you change your mind…"

"Noted," Neal said. His phone vibrated and he pulled it out. When he saw that it was Henry who'd texted him, he smiled. "Anyway, nice chatting with you, but I've got someplace to be. Later."

August watched him walk away and breathed a sigh of relief. Baelfire hadn't told his father who he was yet. And from the sound of it, he wasn't about to anytime soon. His gaze flicked to the shop, just in time to watch the mayor exit, stomp over to her car, and drive off.

He waited a few more minutes before walking over to his motorcycle. As he drove slowly down Main Street toward the convent, he wondered whether the Dark One was watching.

He devoutly hoped so.

When Regina had been a child younger than Henry was now, she'd slipped away from her etiquette tutor relying on the oft-respected excuse of small children who could not always wait until the end of a lesson to seek out a commode. Then, after ascertaining that her mother wasn't about to come striding around the corner, she'd quickly donned her outer wear and, with a squeal of glee, gone out to join Daniel on the frozen castle moat.

Smiling shyly, the older boy had handed her a pair of ice skates, showing her how to put them on and stooping to ensure that they were properly fastened. Preparations complete, the two had joined the other laughing children of the castle already on the ice.

At first, Regina had slipped and slid, but under Daniel's gentle coaching, she'd found her balance and soon, she'd been gliding as though she'd been doing this all her life. She'd wanted to try some of the leaps and twirls that some of the more seasoned skaters were performing, but this part of the moat was too crowded for practice. Moving with purpose, she skated about the corner, hoping for a clear area.

She got her wish. The ice was deserted. Free, she glided swift and sure ten yards further… fifteen… she was nearly twenty yards away when she heard a dull crack. Looking down instinctively, she saw that the opaque gray surface of the ice was marred by a frosty white line. As she watched, the line lengthened and branched into two. The ice trembled beneath her feet and she realized her peril. Hastily, she turned back the way she came, the cracks growing and widening into fissures below her. She wasn't going to make it!

She must have been screaming, because at once, Daniel had been there. He'd seized her arm and flung her with all his might into the banked snow on the side of the moat farthest from the castle. Then he'd raced after her.

The ice gave way completely when Daniel was three inches from the snowbank, but even as he tumbled into the icy moat, Regina took firm grasp of his jerkin. Mollo, apprenticed to the blacksmith and three years older was suddenly beside her and gripping Daniel's other arm. Another girl, her own arms muscled from long hours in the castle laundry came to assist. Together, they pulled him from the water.

"The others?" Regina gasped, as they started removing Daniel's skates.

"Heard you screaming, milady," the girl said tersely. "We're all safe." She motioned several yards away, where the other palace children were clustered. By now, a sentry had noticed their plight and drawbridge was lowering. Her mother and father were standing in the arch of the palace entryway, her father's eyes worried, her mother's lips tight with disapproval.

Regina spoke quickly. "Daniel saved my life, Mother," she said. "I went out too far on the ice and it started to break."

"So I see," her mother said coldly. "As I recall, you have an etiquette lesson at this time. How is it that we find you here?"

Regina flinched and lowered her eyes.

"Go to your room," Cora ordered.

"Have a physician see to the stable boy," her father spoke for the first time, squeezing Regina's arm as she passed. She looked up with a grateful smile, before she hurried into the castle to await whatever further punishment would be forthcoming for her actions.

Now, Regina once again felt the sick feeling of the ground shuddering and giving way beneath her. Kathryn was alive, Mary Margaret was free, and Rumple didn't seem to care. In fact, he'd all but admitted to being behind yesterday's events.

It made no sense! He was the one who'd told her about this curse in the first place! He'd lulled Snow White and her charming husband into a false sense of security by telling them that she was powerless to harm them in that realm, and then told her how she might carry everyone in the kingdoms to a different realm. It had been perfect! Nearly perfect, she amended. All magic came with a price and this one hadn't come as cheaply as she might have liked, but she had no regrets.

But now, it seemed that Rumple wanted the Curse broken, and she couldn't fathom why. She flashed back on her visit to the shop this morning.

"This is going to raise all kinds of questions about where she was and how the test results were faked."

She'd thought that Rumple had just been being a bastard as usual, and merely overlooked the ramifications in his glee at getting under her skin. Irritating, but if he'd got her into this mess, he could damned well get her out! Instead, he'd smirked at her and drawled, "Oh, yes. And, um… And who put the key in her cell."

Her breath caught. "It's all going to lead to me, isn't it? You son of a bitch."

Rumple snorted. "While that assessment might be accurate, it's hardly relevant, dearie. On the other hand, that fingernail you broke at Ms Blanchard's loft? The one found by Sheriff Swan? Oh, I can't wait to hear how you'll explain that one, dearie, once the results of the analysis become public."

She was back on the cracking ice again, trying to regain control. "This doesn't make any sense," she protested. "You and I – we've been in this, together, from the start."

"Oh, have we?" Rumple asked, and suddenly, she was no longer sure. Still she persisted.

"You created the curse for me. The curse that brought us here, and built all this. Why?"

Rumple smirked. "Well, you're a smart woman, Your Majesty. Figure it out."

She couldn't. Not for the life of her. What the hell was Rumple playing at? Why had he given her the Curse so she could revenge herself on Snow White, only to yank her victory away in the end?

"He never cared about my revenge," she whispered to herself. "He's been playing his own game from the start and now, he's thrown in with my enemies."

She sucked in air through her teeth and clenched her fingers about the edge of her desk. Then a malicious smile parted her lips. "It looks like I'll have to stop the Savior on my own."