Back in the Enchanted Forest

David set his daughter down gently in the wardrobe, gently kissing her on the forehead before he did so. His ribs were still bleeding from the sword wound, but he could breathe easier now that his Emma was finally safe. She was so brand-new and pink and wrinkly and innocent that it astonished him. He couldn't believe such tiny, rose-colored hands somehow held enough power to save this Godforsaken kingdom from its demise.

"Goodbye, baby girl," he whispered to her. "Come back for your Daddy and Mommy someday."

As he turned around, Regina materialized in a cloud of smoke. "Hello, Charming," she acknowledged wickedly. She offered him a sharp, cutting smile.

David moved to place himself between the baby and Regina, but he was already flying, hurtling across the room. With a nonchalant flick of her manicured hand, she had just separated him from his daughter for what they all had believed would be eternity.

Regina leaned down and picked up baby Emma from the wardrobe, cooing at her, and David cursed himself for having been selfish enough to take a final goodbye. He should've just closed the damn wardrobe and let his daughter be safe. His selfishness had cost his daughter the chance to grow up being loved.

He jumped up, preparing to lunge at Regina, but the Evil Queen held him back once more with her magic.

"Any minute now," Regina said quietly, maliciously, her words biting him with every breath that she took, "you won't remember any of this, but I'll be raising your child. And I'll know you're suffering in your endless, lonely life. No kingdom, no wife, no child. Nothing you truly love. Just you."

The whole thing looked like a scene from a storybook, and maybe it was: Regina, crouched over baby Emma, smiling malignantly and making soft little noises to the child; David, now slumped in the corner and still unable to move, watching the dark eyes of his new daughter peer cautiously at Regina as the purple fog set in, curling over them, sweeping, choking…

Suffocating.

Present Day

Emma had buried herself as deep under the covers as her bed allowed. Her nose was raw and cut, stinging from blowing it so often, and her eyes were red and swollen and shiny with tears. She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut and clamped her hands onto her ears as if letting the outside world in would kill her slowly and painfully. Things still found their way in, though, against her will. Light seeped into her brain when the covers were lifted from her; a voice told her it was time for school. Emma ignored them both and sobbed quietly.

The covers returned to her.

A few hours later, Emma woke to a hand stroking her hair, tracing patterns on her cheek and forehead like it had done since she was a baby and couldn't even lift her own head. Her vision was blurred, but she knew it was her mother who was sitting on the bed beside her. Emma realized she must've cried herself to sleep.

Emma suddenly lurched herself forward and latched onto Regina's waist. Regina responded by wrapping one arm securely around the girl's back and gripping the other on her blonde, sweat-soaked locks. She never wanted to let the girl go. What had started as revenge had cruelly turned itself into something Regina knew couldn't last, but, oh, how badly she wanted it to.

Emma didn't notice, but Regina's eyes were red and swollen, too. She had been crying, too.

Regina pulled away from Emma, brown eyes rimmed in red. "Do you want to find your birthmother?" This question was a lie. No way could she actually offer or pull through with that option.

Emma sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "No."

That was a lie, too.

A Couple Days Later

Naturally, it wasn't long until Emma came to her mother, asking to know who had brought her into this world and then so brazenly and carelessly tossed her away, like garbage.

It was only a matter of time, really. Emma wanted to know exactly what was so obviously unlovable about her.

Regina tipped the girl's chin up. "You're not unlovable," she assured her.

~o~

To play along, Regina pretended to help Emma look for nonexistent adoption papers, birth certificates, anything. They dragged boxes down from shelves, hauled bins out of storage, and spent hours shuffling and rifling through papers, letters, and documents. Nothing.

Regina felt immensely guilty about the whole charade; lying to Emma's face was much more painful and difficult than lying by omission. She watched Emma struggling for answers, hunched over hundreds and hundreds of papers, tossing each failure aside like she imagined her birthmother having done to her as a baby.

Regina offered Emma the plate of crackers and cheeses that was sitting on the coffee table. The girl looked tempted but refused.

"I'll eat when we find my birthmother."

Regina blew out a sigh; her brown bangs fluttered in her breath. Emma hadn't eaten anything since two days before now, when she'd appealed to Regina to help her find her birthmother. Emma was so obsessed with finding this woman that she didn't want to waste a second of her valuable, waking moments to eat.

"You may never-"

Regina cut herself off abruptly, realizing what she was about to say would only make Emma upset. It was too late, though. The meaning was clear:

You may never find her.

Even though her family situation hadn't exactly been ideal, Regina had never had any idea of what it was like to be unloved and unwanted. Her parents had kept her - and loved her – even in their own unconventional ways.

Emma's parents hadn't given her up, per se, but that's what Emma believed.

Emma's face crumpled. It was like watching someone wad up a paper towel.

"No, no, no," Regina said. She quickly scooted herself closer to Emma and pulled her crying daughter into her arms. "I'm sorry, Em; I didn't mean to say that," she whispered soothingly, rocking the teenager gently in her arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sure we'll find her."

Another lie.