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.

19. Chapter 18: Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust

Chapter 18: Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust

Disclaimer: Lines are taken from S1E1, S1E13, and S1E22, with the aid of ForeverDreaming and the OUAT wiki.

---

David woke with a start. He had been sleeping peacefully when he suddenly felt a great pain in his chest. Somehow, and he wasn't sure how, he knew it meant the woman that he loved was in pain.

"Snow," he breathed.

With some effort, he dragged himself up onto his feet and left the safe haven where the two of them had been camping.

Snow often foraged for food while he slept, so he went to search the general area. At some point during his search, the pain in his chest eased. He wished that he found this fact reassuring, but he didn't. Snow was still in danger; he was certain of it.

He searched the forest, checking every place he could think of, but Snow White was nowhere to be found. He needed to find her, but he hadn't a clue where to begin to look.

Perhaps, it was time to call on an old friend.

---

"I guess I was wrong about you," the sheriff said from outside Emma's cell.

She barely heard him. Everything had been a blur ever since Mary Margaret had collapsed. She barely remembered being processed and locked up.

It was almost funny. When she was a kid, when she met Lily, she had committed a few petty crimes. It hadn't been anything major; she'd just stolen some necessities. Still, she'd almost been caught when Lily had come in and saved her with a cover story.

Years later, as social worker, she had dealt with kids who saw the wrong side of the law. She had done what she could to help them, but she wasn't blind to how terrible their situations often were, and a small part of her was grateful in those moments that she had never been arrested.

Now, she was the one behind bars, and Lily wasn't here to rescue her. Lily couldn't even find Storybrooke, even if she had any jurisdiction here.

There were no social services in this town, as much as Emma had tried to start some up, and even if there were any in a nearby town that had jurisdiction here, Emma had no way of contacting them. There was only one lawyer in this town, and if he wouldn't defend her husband, he wouldn't defend her either.

Somehow, she had stumbled onto a town where she had no allies, and seemingly no way to reach anyone.

She had used her one phone call to get in touch with her father-in-law, but she had only been able to leave a voicemail. Of all the times for him not to pick up! She liked to think he'd get her help from someone outside of this crazy town, but had that been possible, he would have done it for Neal.

Nothing made sense. The way the town was utterly loyal to the mayor—the woman had basically admitted to setting Neal up without fear of consequences. The way the town's behavior seemed to support that premise.

Then Mary Margaret had come in and, in theory, saved Emma from poison, but that was even harder to wrap her head around. How had the mayor thought she could just poison someone and get away with it? She was unsurprised by Mary Margaret collapsing, glad, even, but she claimed that the toxicology report wouldn't find anything. None of it added up.

Had Emma tried to plead her innocence? She couldn't remember. Her mind kept going back to the image of Mary Margaret on the floor, and her being the only one who seemed to care about whether or not she would survive. Had anyone even trying to help Mary Margaret, or had they been too busy calling for Emma's head while the mayor laughed in the background?

Graham's words finally registered. He thought he had been wrong about her. Before, he had seemed friendly, almost an ally. Even when he had been accusing Neal, he'd seemed to see Emma as an innocent bystander. She supposed that was over.

"You weren't wrong about me," Emma said quietly. "It's the mayor you're wrong about."

Graham shook his head. "Half the criminals I've dealt with go on and on about how innocent they are. It's always a farce."

"Didn't you say there was next to no crime before the recent attacks? So, the only criminals you've really dealt with are me and my husband."

"All right, then. One hundred percent of the criminals I've dealt with claim innocence, and it's a farce."

"Mayor Mills as good as admitted to me that she was setting Neal up. She poisoned Mary Margaret right in front of me. You've got the wrong person."

"If you want to cast blame away from yourself, perhaps you should pick someone who we don't all know would never hurt anyone, least of all her own sister."

"Have you ever thought about why that is? Why nobody questions the mayor, why everybody worships her without question?"

"Because she's earned it."

"How? How as she earned it?"

"She's our mayor!"

"That means nothing," Emma said. "Politicians turn out to be corrupt all the time, and even the good ones make mistakes. They aren't infallible. Can't you see that the hero-worship in this town doesn't make any sense? It's like you're all … all …" Emma couldn't even think of what they all could be, but it still made no sense.

"What? Under some sort of spell?"

"Of course not," Emma scoffed. "There's no such thing as magic."

And there wasn't; Emma was sure of that. There was luck, and coincidence, maybe fate, but all of it had a logical explanation. But not magic. Magic wasn't real. There was some other explanation; there had to be.

---

Aria, Jack, Henry, and Henry's grandfather all sat awkwardly around the Stiltskins' living room.

His name was Jack, Henry had said once to her, which was a tad funny, especially because he was looking at her in a way her Jack never had.

It hadn't taken very long to fill Jack Stiltskin in on what had transpired earlier that day: the revelation about her Jack's heart, the acknowledgment that magic was real and that they were all cursed.

After everyone had been brought up to speed, the question became what to do. It seemed that Henry's mother was meant to break the curse they were all under, and if they showed her proof of magic, it would point her in the right direction.

Jack Stiltskin and Henry had both left messages on her voicemail, and now they were simply waiting.

The sound of Jack Stiltskin's phone ringing caused them all to jump, and it seemed to be the only thing to draw the older man's eyes away from her.

"Is it mom?" Henry asked.

His grandfather shook his head. "It's the sheriff station, likely calling again to track down your father. I have no interest in talking to that idiot sheriff again."

"Oi, that ain't fair," her Jack said. "He's cursed, like the rest of us poor sods. Maybe the mayor even has 'is heart. You can hardly blame him for dancing to her tune. It's how we were all programmed, ain't it?"

"An explanation is not an excuse," Jack Stiltskin said. "He's hunting my son. Frankly, I don't care what his reasons are."

Aria decided she liked the way he talked. There was an old-fashioned quality to his words, but they were also unapologetic and matter-of-fact. He had a good way of putting things. She liked the sound of his voice.

"Are you from Scotland?" she asked.

"Well, he sure ain't from where we're from, is he?" her Jack snorted.

"Actually, I am," he said.

"I knew it!" Henry said, pumping his fist. "You're Rumpelstiltskin, right?"

The man nodded somberly. "Those close to me, those I love, are welcome to call me Rumple. Though, of course, Grandpa works too."

"Rumple," Aria said, tasting the name in her mouth. She had read his story in Henry's book. It brought to mind a question she had been meaning to ask them since he welcomed her into his home. "You, um, you called me Belle?"

"I did," he said.

"But, um, well … why?"

"I would think that should be obvious," he said. "You read the book, yes? And we've established that its contents are true. You must have put together which tale was yours."

Aria shook her head. "I read the book, and I read Belle's story with her Beast, as well as her adventures with Robin Hood and his Merry Men, but … but she was brave, strong, and smart. She was a hero. I could never be like that. That could never have been me."

"You don't think much of yourself, do you?" Rumple asked.

He said people he loved could call him that, she thought. Who am I to use it so familiarly? But she wanted to call him by that name. It suited him far more than the name Jack did, and it wasn't as though he could know what she called him in her head, could he?

"I haven't always made the best choices," she said, trying not to look at her husband. "And I've let others treat me … I've always been too much of a coward to stand up for myself, let alone anyone else."

"I've got the patent on bad choices, Dearie," Rumple said. "And on being a coward. Believe me when I say, that's not you."

Aria blushed. "How can you know that? You don't even know me."

"Perhaps not," he said. "Not as Aria, at least. But I did know you quite well, once, and the woman I knew was brave, and kind, and brilliant. I never forgot her, and I could never mistake her for someone else. You are Belle, deep down inside. You will find her again. You may have already begun. You figured out the truth of the curse; I doubt anyone else in this town has been so clever. And you came here today with what some would call a crazy story; I would call that very brave. In fact, if we're going into battle against the Evil Queen, I can think of no one more capable to stand among the ranks of our little army."

Aria was shocked by his kind words, but also quite pleased. "Thank you," she said, knowing the words weren't enough, but unable to come up with any others.

"I only spoke the truth. And it is I who owes you thanks. Had you not encouraged me that night in the woods, I never would have gone through that portal. If I hadn't, I imagine all of our lives would be very different."

Henry's phone rang next, and he smiled excitedly. His face fell when he looked at it, "It's just Paige," he said.

Aria wasn't sure who Paige was, but despite not being the phone call they were all waiting for, she was clearly someone important enough for Henry to pick up and speak with her.

"What?" he asked, sounding outraged. "But that's … she would never … I have to go. Thanks for the call." He hung up, then said, "Mom's been arrested!"

---

"Her body was being held in the castle under heavy guard," the huntsman said. "Then it was moved under cover of night. Nobody knows where or by whom, and we aren't encouraged to ask."

He'd responded to David's summons immediately, setting up a time for the two of them to meet covertly in the forest.

"Her body? You're not saying that she's …?"

"She's in a glass coffin, David. I'm so sorry." The huntsman put a comforting hand on David's shoulder.

David shrugged the hand off. "No, I'd know. If she were … I'd know."

"Didn't you say you felt something? Maybe it was –"

"No!" David said. "Besides, if she was truly gone from this world, why would her body be hidden? Why wouldn't the queen just bury her and be done with it?"

"I don't know," the huntsman said. "The queen is … unpredictable. And I'm not sure she's quite sane."

"Snow always spoke so highly of her mother," David said. "It doesn't make sense."

The huntsman didn't seem to have an answer to that.

David began pacing. "Perhaps it's a curse of some kind. Perhaps Snow is cursed with some sort of eternal sleep. I've heard tell of such things. There was a princess in another kingdom cursed by a dragon sorceress. She was awakened by True Love's Kiss. If I could just get to her …"

"It won't be easy," the huntsman said.

"I've faced worse odds," David said. "Remember the dragon I fought with James? You and I can –"

"I can't help you David," the huntsman said. "The queen has my heart."

David stopped pacing and turned on his friend. "You're in love with the queen?" he asked, incredulously.

The huntsman shook his head, "That's not what I mean. There is a way that those who have magic … they can physically take a heart out of a person's body. It won't kill you, but once they hold your heart, they control you. What they say, you must do. As long as she controls me, I can't … I can't help you."

David put a hand on the huntsman's shoulder. "That is terrible. I am so sorry. Is there any way I can –?"

The huntsman put up a hand to stop David. "Focus on rescuing your princess."

"Alone?" David asked. He would do it. For Snow, he would do anything, but he hadn't a clue where to look for Snow.

"I believe in you," the huntsman said. "But if you are in need of assistance, you might call on Captain Hook."

"I thought she only helped find lost children?" David asked, startled.

"She does, but perhaps she'll remember you, and if you can pay her –"

"Pay her with what?" David said. "I have nothing. I'm a shepherd, and I've been on the run for more days than I can count."

"And you've stolen, haven't you?"

"To survive, but we try to avoid it. And the sort of price that a pirate would ask for –"

"What about a promise of future riches? If you can rescue the princess, the two of you can fight for the kingdom. What the queen has done with it … She doesn't treat the people well. They say she's changed. And Prince Edward is just as bad, though apparently that is nothing new. Snow White is the rightful heir to the throne. She's innocent, and now her mother has tried to kill her."

"People believe that Snow committed patricide. The penalty for that –"

"I'm not certain people still believe that. In the beginning they did, but as I said, the queen seems changed. If she believed public opinion supported her killing Snow, it would have been a public execution. Instead, the whole affair was covered up. You may have more allies than you know."

"First, you tell me to employ a pirate, now you're saying I should recruit followers and raise an army to take back a kingdom that isn't even mine?"

"I've never believed much in people, David. I thought that they were inferior to animals, callous, and cruel. But then I came to know you, your brother, Captain Hook, and your Princess Snow. There are people who are kind and good. There are people who want to help and who believe in love and hope. This kingdom is not what it once was, but you may find a surprising level of support from its denizens'. You have grown into a strong, loving, and compassionate man, and the people of this kingdom might just respond to that. They might rally to your cause."

David still felt skeptical, but Snow had taught him to hope. She had taught him to believe in people. The huntsman was right. It was time to see just how loyal Snow's kingdom was to her. It was time they fought for their princess.

---

"It's time to go home, love," David's wife said in his ear.

He shook his head. "I think one of us should stay with her," he said.

He was holding Mary Margaret's hand as she lay unconscious in a hospital bed, hooked up to so many tubes and machines … It made his stomach clench. Who would have thought? Mere months ago, he wanted nothing to do with this woman, and now …

"It doesn't help her for us to sit and wait," his wife said. "Come home, won't you? You can take care of me."

David shook his head. He knew that Selena was still recovering from her attack, but in all honesty, she seemed fine. Mary Margaret on the other hand ….

"Very well," she said. "If you insist on someone sitting with her, it may as well be me. She's my sister, after all. You don't even like her."

"That's not true," David said weakly.

"Come now. You two were always squabbling. I know you were trying to get along for my sake, and I love you for that, but she's hardly someone you would go out of your way for."

"I … I don't like seeing her like this. It makes me –"

"Well, if you don't like seeing her like this, you'd best bloody well leave. Someone needs to look after the children."

"I –"

"Go!" she practically shrieked at him. "I won't have you sitting vigil at her bedside. I won't have it! I insist you leave now, husband. Shoo."

Reluctantly, David walked out of the room, never taking his eyes off of his unconscious sister-in-law.

---

Emma had given up trying to convince Graham of her innocence. He had done a complete 180 on her, now looking at her like she was scum, and she supposed she couldn't entirely blame him. If she had been guilty of the things she was accused of, she would be a terrible person, and she would deserve his ire.

He was determined to believe she was guilty, because apparently, nobody's word meant anything when it was spoken against the mayor's.

The mayor had stopped by earlier, but she hadn't spoken to Emma. She and Graham had spoken privately, and then she had left after giving Emma a gloating look. How did nobody in this town know what was going on? The woman was clearly deranged, and they were all just going along with it. There had to be a reason, but for the life of her, Emma couldn't think of one.

"Oi, sheriff," came the voice of Jack Scathe. Great, the wife-beater who had started it all. What was he doing here?

"What can I help you with, Mr. Scathe?"

It made Emma's skin crawl, seeing Graham being so genial with this man who she knew was terrible, while he had dismissed her as terrible, when she was innocent.

"I've been instructed to come and transfer the prisoner."

"Transfer me where?" Emma asked, despite herself. "To my arraignment?"

"You'll see what you're getting," Jack said. "And it's what you deserve."

"I don't have a lawyer," Emma said. "Will one be appointed? Will he be there?"

Jack laughed. "You think any lawyer in this town would touch you with a ten-foot-pole?"

"I know my rights," Emma said. "The sixth amendment says I have a right to an attorney."

"Not in Storybrooke," Graham said.

"That's ridiculous," Emma said. "I looked into it when Neal was accused, and Maine doesn't just provide attorneys for anyone who needs one; they provide private lawyers, to make sure they're competent. You have to follow the statewide regulation."

Graham shook his head. "I spoke with the mayor, and you won't be getting a lawyer or a trial."

"That's not legal," Emma said, but Graham said nothing. How could they get away with this? "So, no trial, no lawyer, what do I get?"

"It's like Mr. Scathe said," Graham said. "What you deserve."

He unlocked her cell, but not her cuffs, and Jack Scathe grabbed at her and started to lead her to the door.

"I can walk myself," she said. She knew she should probably shut up, but she couldn't. What they were doing was illegal, and if she could just get help from outside Storybrooke …

"Don't try to run, lass," Jack said, pushing her toward the door. "This town ain't safe for the likes of you anymore."

---

"The Enchanted Forest isn't safe anymore!" David bellowed from his soapbox. Maybe getting up in the middle of town wasn't the smartest way to recruit people, but David had never been subtle. If the huntsman was right, if people were being mistreated, then they would want to help. If he was wrong, then there was no point anyway.

"The queen has become an unfair ruler," he continued, wishing he had more details than what the huntsman had told him. "She has driven off a just and fair heir to the throne with lies, and is keeping her locked away where she cannot threaten the queen's rule."

"And who is this 'fair and just' ruler?" a skeptical dwarf asked.

"The Princess Snow White," David said with more confidence than he felt. He believed in Snow, but he didn't know that he could prove what he knew in his heart to people who didn't know and love her.

There was indeed a gasp at what he said. People had not been expecting that.

"Snow White is the daughter of the queen that you call unfair," another dwarf said. "The queen raised her. Who's to say the princess won't be just like the queen, or worse?"

"The queen only became evil after Snow White killed her husband," a villager said. "Why should we trust a princess who would kill her own father?"

"Because she didn't kill him!" David said imploringly. "She has been framed, and the queen is likely behind –"

"Why would she frame her own daughter?" a villager said.

"To seize the throne, maybe?" another suggested. "The princess has a greater claim on it than the Queen does. She only married into the monarchy."

"It doesn't matter," another dwarf said. "Evil queen or murderess princess … we would just be trading one kind of tyranny for another."

"Listen to me," David said. "I am a simple shepherd. I have no place in royal politics. But Princess Snow has always been kind to my family. She has shown me love, despite my station, and earned mine in return. I know that she cares about the people of this kingdom, and she would be the fairest ruler that you have ever seen."

"You're her lover?" a villager asked. "So, if she were on the throne, would you expect to become king or some such?" The villager laughed at the notion.

"He's a social climber," one of the dwarves said. "He just wants Snow White on the throne so that he can be her consort and seize power!"

The villagers started shouting over each other. David tried to call for order, but it wasn't working. They weren't listening to him, and a riot was breaking out.

A handful of dwarves was making their way towards him, and they did not look happy. One of them looked particularly angry, like he was spoiling for a fight.

Just as the dwarf got in range to slug David, someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him out of the way. It wasn't until they were clear of the riot that David finally got a good look at his rescuer.

"Well, you've certainly grown up, haven't you?" she said by way of greeting.

David smiled at the woman, who looked like she hadn't aged a day since he was a child, and inclined his head in greeting. "Captain Hook."

---

Jamie hadn't been expecting any visitors, but people did drop by sometimes. Those people didn't usually include David Mills and his two children.

"What - ?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's just that there isn't really a daycare in Storybrooke. Usually, my wife and I divide up the duties, or we'll have Mary Margaret …" He cut himself off, and Jamie noted the pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry about your sister-in-law," she said. She had heard about it. Apparently, Emma Stiltskin had attacked the poor woman right in the Mills manor. Now Emma was on the run, and Mary Margaret was in a coma. That poor family. They had been through so much.

"She'll be okay," David said. "She has to be."

Jamie knew that people in comas often didn't wake up, but it hardly seemed the time to mention that. Instead, she said, "Of course, she will. But I'm still not sure why you're here."

"I don't feel right not being in the hospital with her. There's a … I just know that that's where I'm supposed to be. And my wife too. It's her sister. But the kids … they shouldn't be stuck in a hospital, and there's no one …"

"Surely you've left them with someone else," Jamie said. "You all have jobs."

"Well, they were in school during the day, and then Selena said they were taken care of. Mr. Stiltskin was also tutoring them a bit, but obviously I can't trust anyone in his family right now."

Jamie nodded. "Still, I'm not a babysitter."

"I know," David said. "But you're good with kids, and I trust you with ours. You make sure they're safe when they're at school. I just need someone to watch them for a bit, and I couldn't think of anyone else."

Jamie bit her lip, deliberating. She wasn't a baby sister, but he was right when he said she cared about children. She had experience with them. He was also right that a hospital was no place for kids, and he was clearly determined to be there for his wife and sister-in-law.

"Please," he said, his wide eyes showing his desperation.

That sealed it for her. "Very well, then. Come on in Ava, Nicholas. Why don't I find you something to occupy yourselves with; some books, perhaps?"

David smiled at her, "Thank you."

---

"Where are we going?" Emma asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

Jack Scathe remained silent, staring straight at the road ahead of him. It was worse than being manhandled. At least with that, Emma knew what was happening, and how to react.

Since Jack had shoved her into the car, they had been driving through Storybrooke, leaving the township behind for the more rural area. They drove past trees, shrubs, and little else. Emma half-expected him to murder her and bury her in the woods. If he tried, she would resist him with everything she had. She had taken defense courses over the years. She wasn't going down without a fight.

Finally, Jack pulled into the driveway of a house that was rather nice, if out of the way.

"Who lives here?" Emma asked.

"Sorry about the cloak and dagger," Jack said, "but I needed the sheriff to trust that I was there on the mayor's orders."

"You're not?" Emma asked, eyebrow raised.

Jack shuddered and said, "Never again."

"I still don't know where we are," Emma said. "Whose house is this?"

"Mom!" she heard Henry call, as he came bounding down the stairs of the house's front porch.

He ran into her arms impacting her so hard that she stumbled back a little, but she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. Then, she turned on Jack. "Did you kidnap my kid?"

"What?" Jack asked. He sounded a bit scared, and Emma thought, good.

"Mom, it's okay," Henry said. "Jack is on our side. This is just the only safe place for all of us to meet."

"On our side?" Emma asked. "Who is all of us? Henry, where are we? Why did Jack bring us here?"

"This is my boss's house," a voice said from the doorway, and Emma felt her heart speed up as something in her unclenched.

She looked up at the porch, as Neal stepped outside into the light, and Emma ran at him. She hugged him tightly to her, listening to the rise and fall of his breathing and the thump-thump of his heart. She needed to know for sure that he was real.

"Hey, Emma," he said with that impish grin of his.

With that, the shock and relief gave way to rage. "'Hey?'" she asked. "Are you kidding me? I haven't heard from you in days, and there's a manhunt going on for you."

"Which is why you haven't heard from me in days," he said.

"Neal," Emma growled.

"Mom, hear him out," Henry said. "Remember in The Deadly Hallows, when Ron ran off, and then he came back and destroyed a horcrux? Hermione was mad at him, but once she heard his side, she forgave him, right?"

"I recall her hitting him repeatedly," Emma said, shooting Neal a dubious look.

"Yeah, but he destroyed –"

"Henry, this isn't Harry freaking Potter!" Emma snapped. "This is serious, real-world stuff. Your father just disappeared because, what? He was scared?"

"I'm sorry," Neal said, his face turning serious. "I didn't want to worry you."

Emma let out a puff of air. "And again, are you kidding? How is my not knowing where you are or what's going on going to not worry me? I was crazy with worry. This town is insane, but we should be facing it together. It's our job as husband and wife to worry about each other, but we're supposed to both be there for it. And you were, what? Hiding out in this lavish house?"

"I was trying to find a way to … to explain things to you. Because this town is insane, and I know why, but I knew you weren't ready to hear it. Until I could tell you the truth, I couldn't protect you."

"So, tell me the truth then," Emma said. "What is going on? Why is everyone in this town so insane? And why are they determined to see the two of us as criminals? Why did Mary Margaret … I don't know what happened to her, but I'm scared. I needed you, Neal. I needed you to be here, and I needed you to clue me in."

"Okay," Neal said. "But you should come inside."

Emma shook her head. "I want answers now," she said.

With a sigh, Neal said, "Okay, but you aren't going to like it. Because you're right; this is the real world, or a real world, at least. And, as far as I know, Harry Potter isn't real. But magic, yeah, that's real. It's connected to this town, to me, and to you."

"Okay, now how about the real answer?" Emma said icily.

"I know how it sounds," Neal said.

Emma cut him off before he could follow up with a 'but'. "Do you? Because to me it sounds like you're trying to get out of telling me the truth again, in spite of everything that is going on, and I am not in the mood."

He looked like he was about to talk again, so Emma put her hand up as she stewed in her fury. After everything, he still couldn't trust her. It made her want to scream and cry, but now was not the time for that. Their family was in serious trouble, and Neal wanted to play pretend. She needed him to focus. She needed him to stop stalling and be honest with her. Raging at him would be easy, but what she needed right now was for him to trust her. She would never get answers if he didn't trust her.

"This is serious, Neal. I need you to talk to me. Please, just talk to me. Nothing you could tell me would be worse than what's happening, what I'm thinking … Nothing would make me turn my back on you. Please, trust me and tell me the truth, for once."

"He is telling the truth," Henry said unhelpfully. She'd almost forgotten he was there. It would be so much easier if they didn't have an audience.

"Henry, why don't you go inside while your father and I talk?" Emma said.

"Only if you do too," Henry said. "We have proof, but you have to trust us. You have to be open to believing in magic, or else everything will fall apart."

She wanted to snap at Henry, but he didn't need that right now. He was just a kid, and his parents were fighting while a town was calling for their heads. Of course he would want to believe in a magical solution.

"Henry," Emma began, unsure what she was going to say.

Neal cut her off this time. "Henry believes," he said. "You know me. You know I'm a good father. I wouldn't lie to him or use him like that. He believes, and I'm telling him he's right, because he is. I'm sorry, Em, I really am, but this is real."

Emma shook her head in frustration. "I don't know what game you two are playing –"

"The man who works for the mayor, the same mayor who is trying to lock us both up or worse, drove you here to us. He's willing to go against her for this," Neal said. "This isn't some kid's fantasy, or me trying to get out of stuff. I'm finally ready to tell you the truth, Emma. I'm ready to tell you all of it. And I think you're ready to hear it, to believe it. I just need you to trust me."

"You two both need to trust each other," Henry said. "You've always loved each other, but you've never trusted each other. It's time to start believing."

Believing. Emma might not have always trusted Neal; he'd kept too much from her for her not to have some level of doubt where he was concerned. But she had always believed in him. Sometimes, he was the only thing she believed in.

With a sigh, Emma reached for the door. "All right. I'll come inside," she said. "But this better be good."

---

The sheriff wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He had been pacing since Jack Scathe had taken Emma away. Much as he had been obliged at the time, something about it hadn't sat quite right with him. Had he really told her that she wouldn't face a trial? That seemed wrong. Illegal, even, based on what she'd said. Except … that was what the mayor had told him, wasn't it? She'd told him that Emma needed to be dealt with delicately, behind-the-scenes, and that no mercy was to be shown.

It was murky, just as spying on the family had been. Except, he hadn't seen anything in those tapes to prove Neal and Emma were guilty. They were guilty, of course. They had to be. But maybe he should go over those tapes again. Maybe he should check … What if he and the mayor were wrong?

No. Not possible. The mayor had fingered the both of them. Graham felt so unbelievably torn.

He should call the mayor. She would straighten him out. She would tell him what he needed to do.

She answered on the first ring. "Hello." He was surprised. The voice was female and British, but it wasn't the mayor.

"Jamie?"

"Yes. Why are you calling me?" she asked.

"I'm not. I dialed …" He checked, and realized he had called the wrong number in his contacts. Still, it wasn't the local principal's number. "Why do you have David Mills' phone?"

"I do?" There was a pause. "Oh, I suppose I do. He must have left it by accident when he dropped off the twins. It looks just like mine."

"Dropped off the children?" Graham asked, confused. It wasn't a school day.

"I'm babysitting," she said.

"I wasn't aware that that was something you did."

"It's a favor. The Millses are going through such a horrible time, and they need to be in the hospital at Mary Margaret's bedside right now."

"That's very kind of you," he said. Talking to her was surprisingly soothing. It was putting his mind at ease a bit. Still, he knew he should call the mayor and check in. He was about to tell Jamie goodbye, when she interrupted his train of thought.

"Graham," she said, "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I shouldn't have defended him," she said. "I should have known better."

"I should have known better as well," he said wistfully. "We were both fooled by pretty faces."

She laughed. "Well, it's not quite the same, seeing as I didn't like Neal in quite the same way you did Emma."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Graham said, even though he did.

"I'm sure you don't," she said teasingly. "I'm sure your interest in her was purely platonic."

"I … I didn't …" He felt his face heating up as he struggled for words.

"There's no shame in liking a pretty stranger," Jamie said. "You've been alone for a long time. We all get lonely."

"She's married, and apparently a murderer," Graham said. What sort of person was he, to like someone like that? He had been so sure about her, but it must have just been the hormones talking. Even now, some part of him wanted her to be innocent. Some part of him half believed she was. Why did he want her to be innocent so badly? It was hormones. It had to be. Sound judgment told him that the mayor was always right, and she said that these were bad people. Mary Margaret was in the hospital because he hadn't been better at his job. He'd let his feelings get in the way. "I keep falling for the wrong people."

"You're a very trusting man," Jamie said. "Like a puppy dog or something."

"Well, that doesn't sound like a good thing," he said.

"It is actually," Jamie replied.

"A sheriff can't be too trusting," he said.

"You're loyal and protective. Those are good qualities," she said. "You care, and you should never apologize for caring. Caring is everything."

"I care about Mary Margaret," he said. "She's always been a good friend to me, and now she's fighting for her life. If I hadn't been blinded by –"

"Graham, stop!" she said. "It's not your fault. There is no way you could have known what she was about. She fooled all of us. And hating yourself does nothing. It doesn't help anyone, and it's self-indulgent. You are better than that."

"There's nothing I can do to help Mary Margaret," he said. "I can't wake her up, and Emma isn't even in my custody anymore."

"Well, then perhaps it's time you did something," she said. "Perhaps it's time to find Neal."

"I've tried –"

"Not with my help, you haven't. I'll meet you at the station."

"I thought you were babysitting," he said.

"Oh, right." She glanced at the kids. "Well, let's call it a field trip, a learning experience for them. Come on Graham, it's time to be a hero."

---

"You handled that whole affair very poorly," Captain Hook said.

"Well, it's a good thing you came to help me then," David replied. "How did you know I was in need of some?"

"The huntsman wrote to me," she said. "You're lucky to have a friend such as he."

David nodded. "I am. But I'll need more than just him, or even you, if I'm to rescue Snow. I have no idea where she's being kept, let alone how to save her."

"I hope this doesn't mean you're going to give up," she said. "Not after I came all this way."

David shook his head. "No. I will always find her. I'm just … not sure how."

"Let's approach it as though she were buried treasure," Hook said. "The queen would want her to be somewhere that she could easily get to. She would mark the place, so she wouldn't lose her daughter. But she wouldn't want it to be the sort of mark others would know to look for."

"The huntsman said she was in a glass coffin," David said. "Do you think the Queen buried her?"

Hook cocked her head curiously. "Possibly. But if she did, she would need others to aid her in such a task. A coffin is rather heavy, and digging isn't the easiest task."

David nodded. He'd buried his share of livestock over the years. "She has magic. Couldn't that aid her in the burial?" Before Hook could answer, David remembered something. "The huntsman also said, or implied, that someone did help her, but that those in the castle weren't encouraged to ask who had been involved."

"It sounds like this queen isn't very trusting," Hook said. "It might be useful to track down someone she does trust."

"And how are we supposed to do that?"

"Well, you weren't very subtle back there with that mob. Sadly, they'll likely remember you. They won't, however, remember me."

"I can't just sit back and do nothing," David said.

"I'm not suggesting you do," she said. "I want you to think back to when you were giving your little speech. Who seemed willing to listen, and who was working against you? Who was rousing the crowd into a riot?"

"There were peasants and dwarves speaking out for both sides," David said. "Although, now that you mention it, one of the dwarves did seem particularly interested in discrediting Snow."

"Dwarves haven't been treated well under any regime in Misthaven for as long as I've been alive," Hook said. "They wouldn't trust any monarch. I imagine some of the peasants aren't happy either. If you could point out the ones who seemed receptive, I could speak with them, and maybe we could get somewhere."

David sighed, and then nodded. "I suppose it's all we have to go on."

"This will take time, David," she said, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze, "but you will find your princess."

---

The last thing Zelena wanted to do was play babysitter for Snow White. Once, long ago, she could have ordered someone else to watch over the princess, but those days were long gone.

She had to keep up appearances. That was where she had made a mistake before. She never should have let people see how little the queen cared for her own daughter.

It helped that True Love's Kiss couldn't do anything here. It was the Land without Magic, minus the bit she had brought over. True Love's Kiss was magic, and it would not wake the princess in this land.

Still, she didn't want David here, fawning over his true love. It was too big a risk. He might start to remember how things really were.

Nothing was going according to plan. The tarts had been for the Savior. Zelena didn't mind Snow being under a sleeping curse, of course, but Emma Stiltskin was still a problem that she had hoped to solve to have solved by now.

True, Emma was now locked up at the sheriff station, and Zelena had thought that was a victory, but it didn't completely remove the young woman from the chessboard. She was still in Storybrooke, still conscious, and still somewhat capable. She might yet find a way to make herself a problem.

It wasn't as though Zelena could kill the Savior without breaking the curse. That was why she had wanted to curse her, but Snow White had gotten in the way. That bitch always got in the way.

Zelena was curious as to how Snow had woken up in the first place. It shouldn't have been possible. Now, she had a sleeping princess, a very much awake Savior, and questions that nobody who was awake could answer.

There had to be a way to deal with the Savior, but Zelena could only do so much brainstorming in the hospital. As long as Mary Margaret was alive, people would question her leaving her sister's bedside for any length of time, but if the twit were to die … It wouldn't be that hard. She was already in a sleep like death. Killing Snow White's daughter might be off the table, but the same couldn't be said for Snow herself.

Really, she should have killed her ages ago. Putting her under a sleeping curse was what had started everything going wrong in Misthaven. The time had come to correct old mistakes.

How to do it? Zelena might not have given herself extensive medical knowledge during the curse, but she'd spent enough time around Mal to pick up a few things.

Slowly, she approached one of the mousier nurses. "Excuse me, why has my sister not received insulin?"

"I'm sorry?" the woman asked, looking startled and a little confused.

"Mary Margaret. She needs insulin put into her I.V. tube."

"But … but why?"

"Why, she's diabetic, of course. Why does anyone need insulin? Honestly."

"Nothing in Mary Margaret's chart reflects –"

"Are you questioning me? I am the mayor of this town, and she is my sister. If I say she needs to be injected with insulin, then she needs to be injected with insulin."

The nurse nodded vigorously. "Of course," she said in a timid voice. "I'll get right on that."

Zelena's phone rang just as the nurse was leaving. It was the sheriff station. Why was Graham calling?

With a roll of her eyes, Zelena picked up. "Hello, Sheriff," she said. "I'm at my sister's bedside at the moment. Is this urgent?"

"Not especially," he said. "I'm just … I'm having doubts about … I suppose I was hoping I could make myself useful. I'm not doing much at the sheriff's office now that the prisoner's been moved, so I –"

"The prisoner's been moved?" Zelena asked sharply. "What do you mean, the prisoner's been moved?"

"Emma Stiltskin," Graham said.

Zelena let out a huff in frustration, "Yes, I know who the prisoner is, but I don't understand why you're saying she's been moved. Moved where? And on whose authority?"

"Yours," he said. "You sent your assistant to –"

"I did nothing of the kind," she said.

"But then …"

"You've been tricked, you brainless imbecile," Zelena said. "Now I've got to clean up your mess."

Agitated, she hung up and made her way out of the hospital. She was so caught up in how useless everyone else was that she didn't notice David pass her in the hall and head into Mary Margaret's hospital room.

---

Emma tried to process everything she had just been told. Neal's father was Rumpelstiltskin, and that the two of them had come to this world through a portal. That was his big secret. That was why he hadn't told her about his past. His father was out of a freaking fairy tale, and he'd grown up in some enchanted forest with ogres and dukes and stuff. It sounded insane, but her radar told her he wasn't lying. He believed it, which almost made it worse.

Then, Henry had told her that she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, and that she had been sent to this land to break a curse. He had brought out this book and held it up, showing her the illustrations, told her about the Evil Queen casting a curse and explained that this town was where the curse had brought them. They were trapped. They were under The Evil Queen's control. Only she could save them. Henry was a good storyteller, and he'd always had a great imagination, but he wasn't delusional. He knew the difference between reality and fiction. And just like Neal, he believed every word of what he was saying

Her husband, her son, and her father-in-law, plus Aria and her abusive husband, had all sat there with straight faces spinning this outlandish tale for her, and she had been torn between trying to convince herself it wasn't true, and trying to convince herself that it was.

The people in this town had a cultish faith in the mayor, and magic was a crazy explanation. Still, it was an explanation. And Neal wasn't lying. She was sure of that. He was laying everything bare for her for the first time ever, and she wished it wasn't so crazy.

If it was true, which was a big if, she wasn't sure how she felt about it. He had kept this huge secret for the longest time, but it wasn't like she hadn't known he was keeping something. It was a huge part of him, but wasn't it better that he'd kept it to himself, because he'd known she would never have believed him? It wasn't that he didn't trust her. It was that he knew how it sounded.

She tried to picture how she would have reacted if he had tried to tell her this when they'd first met. She probably would have run screaming. And if he'd told her after that, once she had grown to care about him? It would have been like Ingrid all over again. If it had been at the point where she couldn't be without him, she would have tried to get him help. She'd have tried to convince him to go to therapy, and if that hadn't worked, then something more drastic. Except, his father was backing him up in this, and if that had happened back then, she might have tried to make a clean break. After Henry was born … it would have killed her to take Henry from his father. But if she had thought Neal wasn't safe to be around...

Neal was safe. He was the gentlest man she had ever known. She'd like to think she would have realized that, that she would have stood by Neal no matter what insanity he might have spouted, but she couldn't be sure. The doubt she felt now was nothing compared to the doubt she would have felt if they had never come to this town. If they had told her the truth, or what they thought was the truth, she would have taken Henry and run. She wouldn't have Neal or the only father she had ever known. Could she really fault Neal for doing what he had to do to keep their family together?

And maybe he was insane. Maybe he and his dad were both crazy. But Henry wasn't. And as for Aria and Jack …

She didn't know them all that well, but it seemed like too big of a coincidence that they would believe this story that lined up with the secret Neal had been keeping from her for years. Aria said Jack had been under the thumb of the Evil Queen, who had been controlling Jack and making him do terrible things. It sounded a bit like a battered woman making excuses for her abusive husband, but Emma could put a pin in that for now, because it wasn't just about excusing Jack's behavior.

They all believed it. The people she had known and loved for years, and those who she had just met. They all believed, and they were begging the same of her. They needed her to save them.

They had answered her questions, and met her disbelief with patience and what they seemed to think was proof. Aria had shown her what she claimed was her husband's heart out of his chest, and done her best to demonstrate its power. It could be an act. The whole thing could be a joke. But they all seemed convinced of what they were saying.

And she tried to find a flaw in the logic, she really did. Because magic? That wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. Except, hadn't she seen things since coming to this town? More than coincidence and even fate, hadn't she seen things that made no sense? Unless there was magic. Unless it was all true, and they were all from some other land, how could she explain it all?

Then, Henry had given her the book, and she had seen flashes of another world. She had seen Mary Margaret with long hair and a white dress in a bedroom out of Game of Thrones, holding a newborn and giving the infant to David Mills, of all people, who had fought off soldiers to place the baby in a tree.

It was real; in that instant, she knew it. She didn't want to know it, but she couldn't deny what she had seen. The baby must have been her, and Mary Margaret must be Snow White. And that meant …

"Mary Margaret is my mother," Emma said, tears springing to her eyes.

She remembered her ex-friend storming in, all protectiveness and righteous indignation, telling the mayor to stay away from her daughter. It hadn't made any sense. She had told Emma that she loved her, and she had ingested poison to protect her. Her whole life, Emma had wanted to know that her parents loved her, wanted to believe there was a reason why they had given her away, and here it was. They had been trying to save her. Mary Margaret had saved her from a poisoned apple tart.

Of course! It was so obvious that Emma felt like slapping her forehead. Of course, Snow White would eat an apple and fall into a deep sleep.

Could they wake her up? Modern medicine couldn't help, but in the story, it had been a kiss from Prince Charming that had woken Snow White.

"She needs her prince to save her," Emma said, standing up and beginning to pace. It was so much, knowing who Mary Margaret was to her, figuring out what it meant, but there would be time to deal with all of that later. Right now, she just had to make sure Mary Margaret didn't die. That meant a prince kissing her, and if the vision she'd seen was right, it was the mayor's husband who had to do the deed. No wonder the mayor had liked it so much when the two of them fought.

Nobody was chiming in with a plan. They were all still looking at her, seemingly waiting for her to process everything.

"That's how it works, right? He needs to kiss Mary Margaret awake or … or something."

"That's what happened," Henry said, talking to her almost like she was the child and he the parent. "It's how the story goes, and it's in the book. I can show you where …"

Emma shook her head. "I don't mean back then. I mean now. He needs to wake her up now."

"What do you mean?" Neal asked.

"The mayor, she had these apple tarts," Emma said. "She wanted me to eat one, and Mary Margaret ate one to … to save me. She ran in and said she was my mother, and it didn't make any sense, but now -"

"You're correct to say it does not make sense," her father-in-law said. "How could she know who she is to you when the curse is still unbroken?"

"Because I woke her up," a voice said behind them.

Emma vaguely recognized her. She knew she had met her at one point since coming to town, but she couldn't remember exactly where or when.

"We haven't been properly introduced," the woman said, as though reading Emma's mind. "In this land, I am known as Dr. Drake. I employ your husband and have given him refuge in my home. In the other land, I was known as Maleficent."

Maleficent, Emma thought. The evil fairy from 'Sleeping Beauty'. And now Maleficent was standing in her living room.

"I see you are still in shock. May I prepare you some tea? I find it's quite soothing in times such as these."

"You claimed to have woken up Snow White," her father-in-law said. "May I enquire as to how you achieved that, given the lack of magic in this land?"

Maleficent nodded. "The Evil Queen brought a bit of magic over with her for a rainy day. I only recently discovered where she had hidden it, and I retrieved it."

"It was in her vault," her father-in-law said matter-of-factly. "That was why you were excited when Henry found it."

"Quite," she said, sipping her own tea.

"But … but if you have magic, why not use it to break the curse?" Aria asked.

Maleficent shook her head. "Breaking the Dark Curse would take far more than a bit of bottled magic. Besides, the Savior is destined to break it. Nothing else will do."

"Can it wake her up?" Emma asked. "This … this bottled … magic," she cleared her throat, struggling over the words. "Can it wake up Mary Margaret?"

"I'm afraid there was only enough to bring her back to herself," Maleficent said. "No more magic is available to you."

"Why?"

"Long ago, a series of steps were laid out for me, and I have followed them. Waking up your mother was simply one of those steps."

"If you hadn't done that, she wouldn't be in a coma right now!" Emma said.

"And you would be," Maleficent said. "The apple pastry was meant for you, was it not?"

Emma let out a frustrated groan. "I can't … she can't die because of me. If David is Prince Charming, he can wake her up, right?"

Maleficent shook her head. "You could attempt it, but even if you could talk him into it, there's no telling what would break a sleeping curse in a land without magic."

"But you have magic," Emma said through her teeth.

"I had magic. I no longer do. Besides, the important thing is breaking the curse –"

"Screw that," Emma said. "Mary Margaret is in a coma, and we're going to find a way to wake her up. This other … this dark curse can wait until she's okay."

"Emma –" Neal started.

"Neal, you know how long I've looked for my mother," Emma said. "You know. I know you do. All of those years, all of the questions I've had … and now she's here. I met her and I didn't even know it, except maybe I did. Maybe we both did. When she turned her back on me, it hurt so much, but then she sacrificed herself for me and I have to … I can't leave her like that."

"Maybe true love's kiss could still work," Henry said. "If we could convince David –"

"Which one of us?" Neal asked. "Emma and I won't be let anywhere near that family right now."

Emma nodded. "Well, there has to be a way. There has to be a way to save her."

Neal took Emma in his arms and kissed her forehead. "We'll figure it out."

---

When Jamie arrived at the sheriff's station, she found Graham nursing a Coors Light.

"Well, that won't help you solve any cases," she said.

Graham gave her a sheepish smile and put the drink down. "I'm not trying to slack off, but I don't have a lot to work with. I feel like my hands are tied behind my back."

"Sounds like a fun time," she said, and the sheriff turned and adorable shade of red. "Oh, come on. You must have some lead."

"Well, I was thinking of going over the security footage again."

"From where?"

He rubbed the back of his head and avoided her eyes as he said, "Well, I might have put a camera in the Stiltskins' home –"

"Graham!" Jamie said. "What, did you watch the wife in the bathroom and touch yourself too?"

"What does that mean?" Ava asked from behind her. Crap. She had forgotten that she had the children.

"It wasn't anything like that," Graham said. "The mayor asked me to keep them under surveillance. She watched the videos too. And there were no … Certain areas don't have cameras."

Jamie rolled her eyes, and then sighed. "Well, if the mayor authorized it, then I suppose –"

"We want to see those tapes," Nicholas spoke up.

"What?" Jamie asked.

"We want to help our mom," Ava said. "She wants the Stiltskins caught. So do we."

"It might get a bit hairy," Graham said.

"Please let us help," Nicholas said. "She's our mom. It's important. Please."

Graham sighed. "I guess we should all get to it then. I'll show you where the monitors are."

---

"You're supposed to have this place under surveillance," Zelena shrieked at the useless dwarf-turned-security-guard. "Don't you have security footage?"

"Of course we do, sister," he said indignantly. "But not in that room. You should know that; you're the one who insisted that that room was off limits."

"Well, obviously someone went in there," she growled.

She had gone down to her vault under the asylum to find the Knave's heart missing, as well as her store of magic. Aside from the fact that nobody should know what to do with either of those things, or even that they existed, it was crucial that she got them back. The magic was more important than the heart, but both mattered.

"I can show you who was headed that way," Leroy said.

He zoomed in with the cameras until it showed two very familiar people entering her vault. One was her assistant. The other was the dreamy-eyed patient whom she had trapped with a clouded brain.

"Looks like Mr. Scathe and Lydia from the wards," Leroy said, as though she hadn't already figured that out. She would need to have a talk with that girl and find out what she knew and where she had hidden her treasures. This was the last thing Zelena needed.

Then, with a smirk that made Zelena want to snap him in half, the dwarf had the gall to ask her if she had seen all she needed to see. "I've got work to do," he said, "so, if we're done here –"

"We are done when I say we are," she snapped. They were more or less done, but she couldn't have him going about thinking he could talk to her like that.

"If you say so," he said.

Zelena scowled. "You work for me, or have you forgotten? You will do what I tell you to when I tell you to do it."

"Of course I will," he said. "It's your town, isn't it? I just don't want to sit on my butt watching the same tape all day. I've got better things to do."

"You've got nothing," she said. "Your life is as empty as the shell you hatched from."

"Come again?"

"I just don't want you to forget who is in charge here," Zelena said. "Do your job, or I'll find someone else to do it, and you won't want to be around when that happens."

---

Grumpy didn't like going into town. He wasn't a fan of any time spent outside the mines. Once, he would have been. Once, the outside had been full of possibilities and adventures he could have gone on.

He had been such a stupid dreamer back then. Dwarves belonged in the mines.

However, just like anyone else, Dwarves had to go to town to buy the essentials, such as food and drink. That was why Grumpy and his brothers had been in town when that social-climbing shepherd had tried to raise an army against the queen.

The "evil" queen, some called her. The shepherd wasn't the first to try to unseat her, but Grumpy knew how that went. Take one tyrant off the throne, and another rose up.

The queen they had now might not be perfect, but she had been good to him. She'd pardoned him for trying that mess with the diamond … as though he could have ever won Nova back after how he had abandoned her. It had been stupid of him to think a diamond would make a difference.

That didn't change the fact that he had been in some hot water. He would never have stolen anything on purpose; but it wasn't something he could really prove. An evil queen would have executed him, or at least held him in a dungeon somewhere. Queen Eva was kind. All she needed was for him and his brothers to do a certain task for her, and she would let him off. He was free, so long as he did what he was told.

It was a job, and wasn't working all a dwarf was good for, anyway? Not love, like he had once thought, or dreams, or adventures, but hard work under a tough taskmaster. A queen was just another taskmaster, and what she had asked hadn't even been that hard.

Except now, some pirate lady was going around and asking all the wrong questions of all the right people. Grumpy couldn't have that, so he stood off to the side nearby and took a listen. Nobody ever noticed a dwarf anyway.

"- disappeared, just like that. I don't know what happened to him," the peasant was saying to the pirate.

She put her hand on his arm in a way that seemed grabby to Grumpy, but the man didn't seem to mind. "That's terrible. And you don't know why the queen might have targeted your family?"

The man shook his head. "Not the slightest. He was a good kid. He didn't deserve it."

"Have you made any inquiries to where she might be holding him?"

"At first," the man said, "but I learned quickly not to say anything bad about her. I mean, I sympathize with her, losing her husband like that, but what she's become …"

"I know you," a voice said from behind Grumpy. He turned around, surprised. He really hadn't thought anyone would notice him. "You were heckling when I was trying to get someone to help fight the queen."

Grumpy harrumphed. "You're the rabble rouser," he said. "Why can't you leave well enough alone?"

"Have you ever been in love?" David asked.

Grumpy did his best to keep a straight face. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that dwarves can't fall in love?"

David shook his head. "I've seen a man raised by a wolf who was capable of love. I've seen a ruthless pirate show compassion. I've seen a princess love a poor shepherd. Anyone can fall in love."

"You're talking about men, not dwarves," Grumpy said.

"Dwarves are men," David said. "Of a different sort, but I don't see why it would be any different."

"Why don't you mind your own business?" Grumpy barked at the annoying shepherd. Where did he get off, talking about love and speaking to Grumpy like he was a person? Who did he think he was?

"You have been in love, haven't you?" he asked. "And you've lost love. That's why you're getting so annoyed with me right now."

"If you can tell I'm annoyed, why are you still talking to me?"

"Why are you so against my finding Snow White?"

Grumpy snarled and got up in the shepherd's face. "Look, farm boy, I don't know if you've noticed, but things aren't always so easy for us dwarves. If we've got a queen who's willing to work with us, then we do what we have to in order to protect it."

"And it's okay if an innocent person pays the price?"

"Dwarves look after their own, nobody else," Grumpy said. "Besides, you just think she's innocent because you're in love with her. Take it from me, you'd be better off just giving up."

The shepherd shook his head. "No. True love must be fought for, and I will always fight for her."

Grumpy shook his head, and then spit. "Listen to you. True love. What makes you so sure -?"

"Because I feel it," the shepherd said putting his hand to his chest. "Here."

Grumpy rolled his eyes. "Fine, so you love her. Doesn't mean she should be our queen."

"Maybe not," the shepherd said, "but right now she's missing and in danger. If I could find her … If the queen deserves the throne, that's something we'll deal with then. I've spoken to a number of people, and they are unhappy. Snow is innocent, but if the people truly believe in the queen over her, then let her stand trial. Let the people decide her fate. At least give her a chance."

"That's not how things work," Grumpy said.

"But shouldn't they? You said dwarves look after their own. So, if you had a problem in the mines, how would you solve it?"

Grumpy sighed, "If it were up to us, we'd work it out. We trust each other. But it's not up to us. We work for the crown as much as anyone else."

"Who wears that crown, who sits on that throne, that comes later. And frankly, it doesn't matter to me. I'd live with Snow in a hovel if I knew she was all right. As long as she's happy, as long as we can be together, that's all that matters. But first, I have to find her."

"Yeah, well, good luck with that," Grumpy said, turning to go. He'd had enough of this.

"I'm David," the man said, holding out a hand for Grumpy to shake. "What's your name?"

"Why?" Grumpy asked, eyeing the offered hand suspiciously.

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to know my name?"

"I told you mine," David said. "It would be rude not to ask yours."

"Most people don't bother," Grumpy said.

"David," the pirate lady called as she approached. "Who are you talking to?"

"Grumpy," Grumpy finally said.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

Grumpy rolled his eyes. "My name. It's Grumpy."

"That … makes sense," David said.

"Does he know something?" the pirate lady asked.

"I know lots," Grumpy said, "Nothing you need to know, though. You keep going on your stupid quest, Wannabe Prince David."

"I don't want to be a prince," David said. "I just want to be with Snow."

"Where do you think the queen would hide her?" the pirate lady asked.

"How should I know?" Grumpy demanded. "Probably somewhere you idiots wouldn't think to look. So, yeah, good luck finding her."

"I will find her," David said. "I will always find her."

"Right. Because you love her, and she loves you, and that overcomes everything. Give me a break."

"What happened to the person you loved?" David asked. "Is she still alive?"

"Of course she is," Grumpy snapped, only realizing what he'd admitted after he said it.

"Then why don't you find her and be with her?"

Grumpy shook his head, "I told you: dwarves don't fall in love. We work in mines and that's it."

"Sounds like a lonely fate," the lady pirate said.

"Yeah, what would you know about it?"

"Oh, I know a great deal about being alone for a long time. Once you've lost as many people as I have … But you're young and have your whole life ahead of you."

"You don't look that old to me, sister," Grumpy said.

"I'm older than I look," she said. "And I've sailed the same seas for centuries. I love the sea, but it would be nice to have someone to share it with."

"Well, cry me a river," Grumpy said.

"My love is missing," David said. "And her loves are long dead. What of yours? You said she's alive, but you don't think you two can be together. Do you not think she's worth fighting for?"

"Of course she is!" Grumpy said angrily.

"So maybe it's you that you don't think is worth fighting for?" David suggested.

Grumpy said nothing.

"That's it, isn't it? You pushed her away because you thought you weren't good enough," David said, smiling.

"Yeah, you're a real genius for figuring that out," Grumpy said. "You don't get it. I'm a dwarf, and she's a fairy. What chance did we have?"

"I'm a shepherd, and I love a princess," David said. "And I worried about it, but she never rejected me. I thought she could do better, but she told me how happy I made her. We went to her parents for permission, and they granted it, but then there was the attack and… suddenly, we were on the run.

"Her father was dead, and her mother seemed to think she had killed him. She was grieving and heartbroken, but she refused to let me blame myself. She wished things were different, but she was so glad that I was with her, and she said she wouldn't settle for any life that wasn't together. Even if she could never go home, we had each other.

"I thought she must have been lying. Living on the run when she was a princess, but … But part of love is trust. She told me that while she would change parts of her past if she could, she wouldn't change the part that brought us together. She was fierce and determined, and eventually, I stopped blaming myself. Because she chose me, and I chose her. And now …

"Now she's missing, in danger, and I need to find her. I will find her. True love isn't easy. But it must be fought for, because once you find it, it can never be replaced. I think you know that Grumpy. I think you know how precious love is, and it's still out there waiting for you. So why don't we help each other?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you know more than you're saying about the queen. I think you can help us, and I think we can help you. If we help you find your love, will you help me find mine?"

Grumpy looked away. It was tempting, but … "She'd never take me back now."

"Well, that'll be up to her. But at least you'll have a chance to fight for your love."

"And how could you even help me?" Grumpy asked, squinting at him. "You can't even find your own true love. How do you expect to find mine?"

"I may be able to help with that," the lady pirate said. "You said she's a fairy, yes? I know a bit about fairies. Assuming you weren't being figurative, I might have just the thing."

---

"Well, that's a motive, at least, perhaps," Graham said, pausing the recording.

Jamie had been watching over his shoulder, and when he turned to face her, she crossed her arms and said, "I don't see how."

"Don't you?" Graham asked. "The conversation they had on that tape … Mary Margaret rejected her."

"Yes, I heard," she said. "But she seemed more hurt than angry when she was recounting it for her father-in-law. She thought she had found family and had been pushed aside."

"People have killed for less," Graham said.

"I suppose," Jamie said. "Well, that family seems to think they're related to everyone in this town, don't they?"

Graham scratched behind his ear at this, avoiding her gaze, which made Jamie curious.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Graham gave an awkward chuckle. "In regard to the familial connection, I have a bit of a confession to make."

"Don't tell me; you're the old man's long-lost son? Or are you the son's illegitimate secret father?"

"Nothing like that," Graham said. He reached into a desk, and pulled out a sheet of paper, "After I spoke with you and Neal about the idea that you might be related, I took some samples from each of you and took them to the lab for a DNA test."

"You did what?" Jamie asked, shocked. "How? What sort of sample?"

"It was from mugs you'd both drunk from at Granny's," he said.

"You say it so blithely," Jamie said. "How could you do such a thing? It's a total violation. I never asked –"

"These are the results," he said, holding out the paper to her. "They came in a day or so ago, but things have been so busy I haven't had a chance to approach you. You might want to take a look at them."

Reluctantly, Jamie took the paper, and as she read it, her anger at Graham gave way to shock. She had known, based on Graham's explanation and his behavior what the test would likely say. She had felt a kinship with Neal that she couldn't explain either. But to see the proof right in front of her …

"I have a brother," she said, trying to get used to the sound of it. "I have a brother," she tried again. "Neal Stiltskin is my … he's … I have a brother, and he's on the run from the law."

Graham gave her a solemn nod. "I'm sorry that it's not the news you were hoping for, but I thought you deserved to know."

"I don't know what I was hoping for," she said. Then, she looked up at him, and she knew he could see the desperation in her eyes when she asked, "What happens now?"

In a gentle voice, he simply said, "I don't know."

---

"How can we break a magical curse without magic?" Henry asked.

It was the question in all of their minds, but Henry had a way of plainly stating what everyone else was too scared to put into words.

"But-but there must be some magic," Aria said. "Jack's heart. Isn't that magic?"

"It's an inherently magical object," Maleficent said, picking Jack's heart up and examining it methodically.

Jack grimaced. "Oi! Could you maybe leave me heart alone?"

Maleficent gave him a devious grin. "Well, I was the one to take it out in the first place."

"What?" Aria asked, turning to the sorceress. "And we're trusting you?"

"You have no choice," Maleficent said. "I'm the only one who can help you."

"Well, you don't seem to be helping now," Aria said, grabbing her husband's heart from Maleficent. She placed it back in the box and sat down, holding it to her chest.

It made sense that she would protect her husband's heart, even a cursed husband's. Her protectiveness warmed Rumple's own heart, despite his jealousy. She was being remarkably brave through all of this, not that Rumple was surprised. She had always been brave, and resourceful. She had also made an interesting point, before they had gotten off topic. The heart was not the sort that belonged in this world, and it worked as one from the old world would. It made no sense in the Land without Magic. And yet …

"You were saying that the heart maintains its magic because it is magical?" he asked Maleficent.

She nodded. "The heart can only exist in its present form with magic. It is magic, living, beating, magic."

"Well, we don't have any other living magic, do we?" Emma asked.

"Pop?" Neal asked, turning to his father.

Rumple blanched. He knew what his son was asking. Will you be what you were? Maleficent had assured him that, even when the curse broke, that would not be the case, but he wasn't so sure. He'd felt something stirring since he'd come to this town. The Dark One wanted to come out, to take him over again, and a small part of him wanted it. It would solve their current problem, or at least help. Was it possible his son wanted him to use magic?

But no, Bae would never want that. And for now, at least, he could offer reassurance, "No, son. I don't have magic. I'm not magic. Not here. Not now."

"No, but she is," Maleficent said, pointing to Emma.

Emma looked behind her as though she thought Maleficent was pointing to someone else. Then, her eyes widened. "What, me?" she asked, pointing to herself.

"Of course!" Henry said. "You're the Savior! You have magic! It makes so much sense!"

It did make sense. Rumple had read the book. He knew Emma was a child of True Love, and that Maleficent, under the instruction of the seer, had bottled that love and placed it on the curse. Emma could break the curse, not simply because she'd been spared from it, but because she was written into it. And it had to be her, the daughter of the love that the Evil Queen was trying to destroy. It would make sense for her to have magic. Rumple might not know much about Saviors, or true love, but he knew enough.

Emma, it seemed, needed convincing.

"But … but wouldn't I have noticed if I had magic?" Emma demanded. Then, her eyes widened again. "She knew," Emma said.

"Who knew?" Neal asked.

Emma shook her head as if to clear it. "Never mind. I don't have magic. I can't. If I did, I would have, I don't know, appeared on a roof when I was being bullied or had my hair grow back after a bad haircut or something."

She was falling back on stories, trying to separate reality from fiction. Rumple could only imagine that it came from desperation. Believing in magic had been a leap for her, but believing that she was magic? It made him sad. Despite all her progress, all she had done to help people over the years, Emma still couldn't believe that she was special.

Rumple hadn't known she was magical before. Special, on the other hand? He had always known she was that. It was easy for him to believe she had magic, light magic, magic that was made of love and meant to help. Emma was full of love, and she gave of herself without asking anything in return. Rumple saw it, Neal saw it, and Henry saw it. Why couldn't Emma see it?

"There was Henry's birth," Neal said, quietly.

"What?" Henry asked, his head snapping around.

Henry didn't know the story, but Rumple remembered.

The lights at the hospital had flickered almost in time with Emma's pain. Rumple had known they were in the Land without Magic; he'd known there had to be a practical explanation. However, looking back now, it was clear that Emma's inherent magic had been responsible.

"That was just an electrical storm," Emma said dismissively.

"That's what I thought at the time," Neal said. "Or maybe what I wanted to think, but what if –"

"No!" Emma said, standing. "I don't have magic. I can't. I can believe that it exists, but for me to have it, that would mean … I should have been able to use it. I should have been able to use it to change things."

Ah. There it was, Rumple thought. That was why she was struggling. He knew she had had a hard life before they'd met, left in foster care for far too long, being passed over by too many families. They had made her feel unwanted, unloved, and therefore, unlovable.

He was saddened to learn that despite all her years with them, all their years as a family, Emma still doubted that anyone could want her, however, he understood. The wounds of childhood never quite healed.

He could see the gears turning in her head, asking the question she had always asked. How could Emma be special, and still have been abandoned for so much of her life? Why had nobody shown up at her door when she was a child and told her she was special, whisking her away to a magical land?

"Maybe you did," Rumple said quietly. "Maybe that's how you found us. Magic, fate, it brought you to us. How else could you explain your stumbling on the only family from the same realm as your own?"

He hoped to see a spark of recognition in her eyes, an acknowledgment that she had saved herself, that she was loved, that she had a home.

There was a moment, but it was fleeting. Too much was happening. She felt overwhelmed, and so she retreated to her factory settings, shaking her head to drown out anything but what she had always known to be true. "If I do have magic," she said, pausing and taking a deep breath, "if I do have magic, I have no clue how to use it."

"Grandpa could teach you," Henry said, faith shining through his eyes, and Rumple wanted to hug him for that faith, but the poor boy had no clue what he was asking for.

"I don't think that's the best idea, bud," Neal said. "Your grandfather and magic; they don't mix well."

It stung that Bae still didn't trust him, but Rumple understood. The magic changed him. It was moot anyway.

"But that doesn't-" Henry began.

"I haven't had magic in a long time," Rumple said, cutting his grandson off. "And I didn't have it very long before that. I wouldn't make much of a teacher."

Emma turned to Maleficent, but the dragon sorceress simply said, "My brand of magic isn't the sort you want to learn."

Rumple agreed with that. Maleficent's brand of magic would be Dark, and that was the last thing Emma needed to break a curse.

"What about Dorothy?" Henry asked, and Rumple smiled at the brilliance of his grandson. "She had magic. Maybe she could teach mom?"

"What, go back to the asylum, then?" Jack asked, speaking up for the first time in a while.

"It might be our best option," Neal said, and Rumple could hear the doubt in his voice.

"Are we sure we can't just have David kiss her?" Emma asked, fear in her eyes. "That seems easier and … and who knows how much time she has?"

"I could go to the hospital," Henry said. "Keep an eye on things and, if David shows up, I can plant the idea-"

"Even if that would work," Emma said, "I'm not letting you go to the hospital alone."

"You can't come with me," Henry said. "None of you can. You have to learn magic, and besides, they won't let anyone from our family near her. Except me, because I'm a kid and they'll think I'm harmless and innocent in all of it."

"I can go with him," Aria said. "They have no reason to suspect me."

"I'll go too," Jack said.

"No!" Emma said. "Look, maybe you were being controlled when you did … what you did." She shot a glance at Aria. "But that doesn't mean I'll trust you with my kid. Aria can take him, but you stay with us."

Rumple could read between the lines. He recalled what Emma had said about Aria, and now the pieces fell into place. In that moment, he wanted to lash out at her cursed husband, heartlessness be damned! He wanted to take his cane and beat the man senseless.

Henry, seeming somehow to sense his grandfather's distress, put a comforting hand on him.

Jack, for his part, just shrugged. "Fine by me, I suppose. I've been meaning to check in at the asylum again anyway."

"Henry should go with Aria," Rumple said.

"Dad, I -?"

"We can trust her," Rumple said firmly, "She'll keep him safe." They'll keep each other safe, he thought. Because they could keep each other safe, and because they both needed to be safe. He wanted to get both of them away from Aria's cursed husband, away from the dangers of the asylum. Sitting at Snow White's bedside seemed like the safest place for them.

Emma sighed, and reached down to give Henry a hug. "Be careful, kid."

"You too," he said before he and Aria headed out.

"All right then," Emma said. "I guess this is the part where we follow the yellow brick road?"

"We'll go to the asylum" Rumple said. "You'll meet Dorothy, and she will guide you. You can do this, Emma. You've always been more than capable of saving those around you."

Emma offered him a small smile. "I hope you're right."

---

David wanted to hold Mary Margaret's hand. Under any other circumstances, it would have been completely inappropriate to hold his sister-in-law's hand. Even now, with her lying helpless in a hospital bed, it felt like a betrayal of his wife. Still, he wanted to. He wanted to comfort her. Maybe his hand could serve as an anchor to this world and keep her from moving on.

As he stared at her and went back in forth in his head about grabbing her hand, a nurse came by with a syringe.

"What is that for?" David asked.

"It's insulin," the nurse said as she tried not to tangle the I.V. tube.

"Let me help," David said, standing.

"Thank you," the nurse said. "I swear, I'm not terrible at my job."

He did his best to offer her a reassuring smile. "I never said you were."

"It's just … I'm better with sitting with patients, making them feel better… making them feel heard. That sort of thing. But Mayor Mills, that is, your wife, insisted that I get this injected as soon as possible, and there were no other nurses around, so …"

David nodded, helping the nurse to administer the drug.

"Is, um, anyone else watching her?" he asked, trying to sound casual. The nurse seemed nice, but if she struggled with a simple injection, it might affect Mary Margaret's care.

"Usually, yes," she said. "And all of her vitals are monitored, so –" She was cut off by a loud alarm coming from one of the computers hooked up to Mary Margaret.

"Oh no!" the nurse said.

"What?" David asked, panicked. "What does that mean?"

"She's crashing!" the nurse said. "I need help over here!"

There was a flurry of doctors and nurses with a crash cart, and one of the doctors hurried to the bedside and started compressions.

"What happened?"

"I gave her a dose of insulin, and she started crashing less than a minute later," the nurse said.

The doctor cursed and called over her shoulder, "I need D50 now!"

David felt dizzy. He couldn't breathe. How could this be happening? There were voices, but David couldn't make them out. He had to get to her, but he felt like he couldn't move.

The nurse who had administered the insulin pulled him out into the hallway. He wanted to fight her, but he felt so weak.

"They're good at what they do," she said, "and they will do whatever they have to do to help her."

He wanted to scream at her. Hadn't she caused this? But he didn't have the energy. He felt like he might pass out.

"I want you to take a deep breath with me," she said. "Breathe in through your nose, count to four… don't stop breathing until you reach four." Unsure what else to do, he followed her instructions. "Good, now I want you to hold your breath again and count to four. Okay, great, now breathe out slowly. Pace your breath out. Count to six, and don't stop breathing out until you reach six." She grabbed his hand, and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "Good, now keep doing that. I'll count with you, okay? Just focus on my voice."

She sat with him (he didn't even remember sitting down) and counted with him until his breathing steadied.

"What if she dies?"

"She's not dead yet," the nurse said. "She can still pull through. Hold on to that."

---

They had gone out to a field, under the stars. That was when fairies surfaced, apparently. Then, she had taken out a vial of glowing, yellow dust.

"What's that?" Grumpy asked.

"Pixie dust," she said. "I can use it to summon her for you. What's her name?"

"I know how fairy dust works," Grumpy said. "I mine the diamonds it's made of, and it can't do what you're saying. This is a waste of time."

"It's not fairy dust," Hook said. "It's pixie dust. There's a difference. This comes from Neverland, and I've used it to communicate with fairies before. Now, her name?"

After a minute, Grumpy said, "Nova," and his whole face lit up when he said it.

Hook smiled and began to spell the name out with the dust. It burned like a beacon.

In no time at all, a spark of bright light descended in front of them, getting bigger and bigger, until it became a woman wearing a pink dress and hovering on fluorescent wings.

David was stunned. He had never seen a fairy before. She wasn't as pretty as Snow, of course, but she was very pretty.

"Hello," she said chirpily, "How can I …" she trailed off, catching sight of the Dwarf. "Dreamy?"

Grumpy stepped forward. "Nova."

Nova stepped out of his reach. "Why did you call me here, Dreamy?"

"I wanted … I wanted another chance for us to be together."

Nova shook her head. Her eyes were already glassy with unshed tears. "You broke my heart," she said. "You told me you would run away with me, and then you changed your mind. You told me you didn't love me."

"I know," Grumpy said, "but I was lying. I thought … I thought that I would hold you back. You wanted to be a fairy godmother, and if you went off with me, you would never get your dream. I decided that I would rather you have your dream than I have mine."

"That should have been my choice," she said, her voice going up an octave. "This wasn't some noble act, Dreamy, your giving up your dream for mine. You were my new dream, and I told you that. You wouldn't listen to me. You decided my life and my dream for me. My whole life … my whole life, nobody trusted me to do things right or to make the right decisions. You were the first person who did … until you didn't."

"I'm sorry," Grumpy said. "I don't know what else to say."

"There's nothing you can say," Nova said. "We could have been so happy, and now … now it's just an unrealized dream."

"Give me a chance to let you choose. I know you can't forgive me yet, and you have every right. But I want you to know that I'll wait. I'll be in the mines, waiting for you, forever. And if someday, you choose me again, I want you to know that I'll choose you too."

"How can I trust that? You changed your mind last time."

"Because … because I love you, and you loved me once too." He looked over at the shepherd, who gave him an encouraging smile. "And true love, doesn't go away. It needs to be fought for. Except fighting doesn't give you a choice. Waiting does. I'll respect whatever choice you make, but I hope, someday, that you'll choose us."

Nova wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Well then, I guess there's nothing left to say. Goodbye Dreamy."

Nova shrunk down and flew off, Grumpy watching as she left.

"Your name was Dreamy when you knew her?" Hook asked. "Well, it's not as though my name hasn't changed," she went on, indicating her hook.

"I'm sorry," David said, putting a hand on Grumpy's shoulder.

Grumpy shrugged him off. "It's no worse than I expected," Grumpy said, "And seeing her again was better than I deserved after what I did."

"Give her time," David said. "Wait, as you said you would. True love will win in the end."

"Yeah, yeah," Grumpy said. "Quit pretending this is about me. You want to find your princess?"

"That's not –"

"I don't blame you for it. True love needs to be fought for, right? Now come on, and I'll take you to her."

"So, you do know where she is?" David asked, a huge smile coming to his face.

"Of course, I do," Grumpy said. "Who do you think moved her there? The Queen made our job pretty clear. Take the glass casket and hide it somewhere nobody will ever look."

"And where is that?"

"The mines."

---

"She's going to make it," the doctor said, and David felt his heart start up again.

"She's … she's waking up?" he asked hopefully.

The doctor's face fell, and she shook her head. "We still don't know why she's unconscious. Her breathing and heartrate have stabilized, but she's not waking up. It's like she was before. But she's not dead, which is lucky." Then the doctor turned on the nurse sitting next to David. "Astrid, what on earth were you thinking? Why did you give her insulin?"

"I was t-told by family that she needed it. That she was diabetic."

"She's not. Didn't you check her chart?"

"I tried to t-tell her sister that, b-but she wouldn't listen, and I thought … I thought I must be wrong. Wouldn't her sister know?"

The doctor seemed torn, and so was David. It seemed wrong to question his wife's judgement, but … but why would she think Mary Margaret was diabetic if she wasn't? It didn't make any sense. And if the nurse had corrected her, why had she still insisted?

"Something is …. Something doesn't make sense about all this. My wife wouldn't … she couldn't … why would she tell Nurse Astrid to give Mary Margaret an injection that would kill her?"

"I know why," a small voice said.

David turned and saw the Stiltskin boy standing there with his chin raised defiantly. Aria Scathe was a step behind him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "After what your parents have done –"

"David, it's not what you think," Aria said. "The Stiltskins are innocent. I know this will be hard for you to process, but your wife … She isn't what she seems."

"Aria, what are you trying to say?"

"She's saying that the mayor is evil," the boy said. "She's the reason Mary Margaret is in a coma. But you might be able to save her. You just need to remember how much you love her, and then, you have to kiss her."

---

Jack was surprisingly skilled at breaking into the asylum. When Emma asked him about it, he just shrugged, and said it came second nature.

"Maybe broke into a lot of places, you know, before," Neal said.

Emma winced.

"What?" Neal asked.

"I'm just not sure what to make of it all. You know, the before, this … this Enchanted Forest place you're apparently from."

"Yeah. No, I get that," Neal said.

"How can you? I don't. Of all the things I thought you were hiding all these years; this didn't even crack the top hundred. I mean, you're from a world with actual magic, like fairies and true love, and happily ever after, and you chose to make a life for yourself in Minnesota?"

"It didn't happen like that. I didn't choose Minnesota," Neal said. "I just sort of landed there."

Emma let out a half-scoff, half-laugh. "Landed. Like you're E.T. or something."

"Yeah, I'm from a realm far, far away," Neal said. "But the thing is, I didn't choose Minnesota. I didn't know where I would end up. It was totally random. Or, it was fate, because we were supposed to meet. Except, with you, random or fate, I know one thing. I didn't choose Minnesota, but I did choose you. I'll always choose you."

It was such a Neal thing to say, and Emma smiled despite herself. She didn't really know what to say in response, but it didn't matter, because they had arrived at the door to Dorothy's cell, and Jack had just opened it.

"I told you not to come back," Dorothy said when she saw Neal and his dad. "I warned you, and still, you're here. With company, apparently, she added after spotting Emma and Jack. "Who are they?"

"Well, he doesn't matter," Neal said. "But this is –"

"Oi, that was rude," Jack said.

"Jack, this isn't the time –"

"I'm Emma," Emma said, stepping forward.

Dorothy looked her up and down. "You're Snow and David's daughter."

"I thought his name was Prince Charming or something ridiculous like that," Emma said.

"That was just a nickname," Dorothy said. "I can see the resemblance, you know. You have your mother's chin."

"She's in a coma," Emma said. "And apparently, the only way to wake her up and break the curse is … is with magic. She shook her head. "I have no magic here."

"Maybe not, but apparently, I do. Only, I don't know how to access it. I've never … I thought maybe you could teach me."

Dorothy was quiet.

"Please," Emma said. "I need to save her."

"And what about the rest of us?" Dorothy demanded. "Will you save us? Return us to where we're from? Return everyone's memories? Return my magic to me?"

"Do you really want to go back there?" Neal asked. "I mean, this land is pretty good if you ask me. Indoor plumbing is a godsend."

"Perhaps this land has more to offer, but all I've seen for twenty-eight years is these four walls."

"We can focus on all of that later," Emma said. "Right now my … Mary Margaret needs help."

"I want your word," Dorothy said. "I need to know that you will save us all, restore us to our true selves."

"I'll do what I can," Emma said. "I can't give any better than that. I've never done this before. But if you want me to save anyone, I'm going to need to know about magic."

Dorothy sighed. "I can't teach you much. There are no books to study from, no potions to make, and I can't demonstrate anything for you. But I can tell you this. Magic is emotion. If you want to save someone, you need to lean into how you feel about them, why you want to save them."

"That's it? That's all you can tell me?"

"I can go over the basics with you, and we can evaluate your potential, but just as you cannot promise to save us, I cannot promise to bring out what is inside of you. It's your magic, and only you can discover how to access it. Every witch is different. It will be up to you, in the end, to make the magic work, to bring it to this world. It will be up to you to save us all."

---

Maleficent had told Emma Stiltskin that no more magical was available to her, which was true, but only because she wished it to be so. She had no intention of making the remaining magic available to the Savior.

It wasn't necessary. Maleficent wasn't entirely sure how Emma would break the curse, but she knew that the bottled magic wouldn't be required. The seer had instructed her to bottle just enough to wake up Snow White and, had she stayed true to those instructions, the curse still would have been broken.

All those years ago, the seer had told Maleficent to follow her instructions to the letter, and she had, except for this one thing. She knew she would need magic again. She had fought to get where she was in the other world, and she wouldn't let her wings be clipped by this curse. Besides, how was she to find one girl among billions without the aid of magic?

It was lucky, too, because had she only provided the amount that the seer had instructed, Zelena would have used it up by now. By not following what seer had told her, Maleficent had insured that there was enough to wake the Savior's mother. Now, the Savior had gone off to master her inherent magic. She was occupied, as was Zelena. Nobody was watching Maleficent.

"A lot of guests today," her mother said.

"I wasn't aware you were awake," Maleficent said, wondering what the old woman had heard.

"I don't remember the last time we've had that many people over."

"Change is in the air," Maleficent said. "I have an errand to run. You'll be all right here on your own I trust?"

"I'm surprised you trust me by myself," her mother said. "What about the boy nurse? I like him. He can sit with me."

"He's busy," Maleficent said. "And very soon, you won't need anyone to sit with you."

She hesitated. This might be the last time she would see this woman, this mother the curse had given her. Oh, the curse hadn't made them close, but she knew that there was a level of familial affection under it all, and soon it would all vanish.

"I would like to thank you, for all you've done for me. I was never aware of your reasons, though I'm sure you had them. In the end, they don't matter. I'm certain we'll both get what it is we desire, but if we do not, I will find some way to repay you." She gave the woman an awkward pat on the head. "Goodbye mother."

With that, she was out the door, the bottled magic stored safely in her rather large handbag.

---

The girl was utterly useless. Zelena had scrambled her brains so much that she didn't know up from down.

When the curse had been at its best, it had been delicious. This troublesome girl who kept making herself a problem in Wonderland had been living out her worst fear, to be a girl who was truly mad.

She could have cursed Alice as she had Dorothy: to remember everything and have nobody believe her. However, unlike Dorothy, Alice was resourceful. She'd never needed to rely on magic to be a thorn in Zelena's side, and Zelena couldn't risk her getting out with her memories intact.

It had been perfect, but now the girl wasn't lucid enough to answer her questions. She seemed to think she had given Will his heart back, but there was no telling if that was in this land, or the previous, where she knew for a fact that the girl had done exactly that. As for who had taken her magic, Lydia didn't seem to know a thing about that.

She was exiting the girl's room when she heard a commotion from a nearby room — Dorothy's room. The Stiltskin boy couldn't possibly be stupid enough to visit her with a manhunt going on for his parents, could he? But wouldn't it be just the thing if he was? What better way to get to the Savior than through her son?

She strode over to the door and peered through its slat, only to see Dorothy speaking with Emma Stiltskin, her husband, her father-in-law, and Jack Scathe of all people.

"Well, well, well," she said quietly to herself. "And just what do we have here?"

---

Jamie wasn't good at sharing her feelings, but somehow, it was easy with Graham. She talked to him about her parents, what she could remember of them, and he helped her try to work out what being related to Neal meant.

All had been going well, and then it wasn't. He stopped speaking mid-sentence, and he stood up ramrod straight. There was a far off look in his eyes.

"Graham, what's wrong?" she asked. "Did you have an idea about the case?" It would make sense. Sometimes, the smallest thing could spark a memory or an idea. Still, she didn't like the way his demeanor had shifted so suddenly.

He didn't answer her question. Instead, he pulled out his gun and trained it on her. "Come with me," he said. "Don't argue. Don't fight. I'll shoot without hesitation if you do."

"Graham, what's going on?" Jamie asked, startled.

"No questions. Follow me."

Instinct told her to fight, but fight how? He had a gun and she didn't.

"What's going on?" Nicholas asked. The kids had been drawing in the other room, but they had seen Graham take out his gun. Nicholas didn't seem scared, just curious.

"Your mother wants to see Neal Stiltskin's sister," Graham said, his eyes not leaving Jamie.

"Can we come?"

Graham didn't respond, and Jamie said, "Graham, please, they're just children. I'll go quietly if you leave them be."

"But we want to go," Ava said.

Graham let an unintelligible shout. "There's no time. All of you, in the squad car, now," he said, motioning for emphasis with the gun.

"It'll be all right, children," Jamie said. "I'm sure it's just a game."

They didn't seem to need reassurance, but just because they couldn't see the seriousness of the situation didn't mean Jamie couldn't. She felt protective of them, as she did all children. Graham might have gone mad, and she might be helpless, but she would find a way to keep them all safe. She just needed time.

---

David had never been in the dwarf mines, but that wasn't surprising. Nobody but a dwarf ever seemed to go in the mines. They were dark and dank and smelled like sulfur, but David didn't care. All he cared about was the fact that seven dwarves were gathered around a glass coffin, and in it he could see, "Snow!"

He ran to her, but he was stopped by the dwarves who raised their axes threateningly.

"Stay back," one of them said. "Or we'll slice you open."

"Stand down," Grumpy said. "He's with me."

"But Grumpy," a different dwarf said, "you were the one who asked us to … to … achoo!"

"Yeah, well, things change. All right, Prince Charming, ready to prove your love is true?"

David looked at Grumpy, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You were the one going on and on about how you share True Love with the Princess. If that's true, you should be able to wake her up, and if not, you're wasting all of our time."

"Of course," David said. "True Love's Kiss." The legends said it could break any curse, and he himself had mentioned it to the huntsman after Snow was taken. He loved her. He knew he did. He just had to believe in it.

The dwarves drew back the glass lid of the coffin, and David leaned down. "I will always find you," he said before planting a sweet kiss on Snow's lips.

A pulse of pure magic ripped through the mines, startling the dwarves. Snow, gasped, her eyes popping open as she did so.

She smiled at David, her hand finding his cheek. "You found me," she said.

"Did you ever doubt I would?" he asked.

"Truthfully," she said cheekily, "the glass coffin gave me pause."

David chuckled. Oh, how he had missed her. "Well, you never have to worry. I will always find you."

"Do you promise?" she asked, and in answer, he kissed her again.

"All right, get a room," Grumpy said. "What about the part where we confront Queen Eva?"

Snow leaned back, her eyes sad. "That witch is not the queen," she said. "After she poisoned me, she showed her true self. She's used some sort of enchantment to pose as my mother, but she she's truly a tall woman with red hair and blue eyes, and I think she's responsible for the death of my parents because … because if she isn't my mother, that means my mother …" Snow broke off with a sob, and David hugged her to him.

"You mother died in the attack," David said, finishing her sentence. "As she initially appeared to have, despite our being told otherwise."

"Can you prove it, though?" Grumpy asked. "Can you prove she isn't the queen?"

"We'll find a way," Snow said.

"How?" David asked.

"Like we shall do everything," Snow said. "Together."

"Count us in," Grumpy said. "I don't want some fake queen sitting on the throne. A real monarch is bad enough, but a fake one?"

"Captain?" David asked, turning to Captain Hook who stood off to the side. He saw Snow's eyes grow curious as she focused on the mysterious woman, but he could explain later. "What say you? Will you help us?"

Captain Hook shook her head. "I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere."

"We can pay you," David said. "You and your crew, once this is all over and Snow sits on the throne, she'll have access to –"

"I didn't take this job for gold," Hook said.

"Then why did you take it?" David asked.

She gave him a sad smile. "It was a favor for an old friend."

Ah. Yes, that. "I know the huntsman would like to see you," David said. "Perhaps the two of you –"

"I can't see him," she said hastily. "It's best if he just forgets about me."

"Love is never forgotten," David said.

She shook her head. "You have all you need. You have your love, and you will defeat the witch. But love isn't meant for the likes of me. I wish you luck."

Once she had left the mines, Snow turned to David, her eyebrow raised. "Who was she?"

"Someone the huntsman loves very much. She helped me for his sake."

"And now she's leaving, just like that?" Snow asked.

David let out a sigh. "I wish she weren't, but you can't force someone to believe in love."

---

"I have to kiss her?" Mr. Mills asked, an incredulous look on his face.

Henry huffed out a frustrated breath. Why was it so hard to get adults to believe?

"It's a sleeping curse," he explained. "True Love's Kiss is the only way to save her."

Mr. Mills' eyes got sad then as he looked at Henry. "I can see you want to help," he said. "And fairytales like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White make everything seem so simple. You're just a kid, not even my kid, and I don't want to take that from you. But –"

"David," Aria said, "I know it sounds insane, but he's actually right."

Mr. Mills' eyes widened as he turned them on Aria. "If this is a joke, it isn't funny."

"It's not a joke," Henry said. "It's the truth. Mary Margaret is Snow White, and you're Prince Charming. You can save her!"

"Prince Charming," Mr. Mills said with a laugh. "Mary Margaret barely tolerated me most of the time I knew her. She'd hardly think of me as charming, and she's hardly a damsel in distress."

"Of course she isn't," Henry said. "We have this book." He took the book out to show it to the reluctant prince. "Here, see? The story is all here. Your story and hers."

Mr. Mills shoved the book back at him. "Can someone get him out of here?" he said, turning to a nurse. "Please? I can't deal with this right now."

"David," Aria said, "you were talking with the nurse about why your wife would try to kill Mary Margaret. You said yourself that it doesn't make sense."

"It … it was a mistake. It has to be."

"It wasn't," Aria said. "Your wife was the only person other than Emma who was with Mary Margaret when she collapsed, wasn't she? And she told you that Emma was responsible, and you believed her. But now, you see that your wife endangered Mary Margaret, so either she made a mistake that she should know better than to make, or it was intentional, and that paints quite a different picture, doesn't it?"

"There's no way –"

"And the doctors, they don't know what's wrong with her, right? Her heart is beating regularly, and her breathing is normal. By all accounts, she should be awake, but she isn't. There's a line from Sherlock Holmes: 'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

Henry smiled. Aria was so smart. Of course, she was Belle! How had he not seen it before?

"Is it so impossible that your wife is responsible –?"

"YES!" Mr. Mills yelled. Then, he shook his head as if trying to clear it. "Maybe. I don't …"

"The curse is confusing you," Henry said. "It's making you think that the Evil Queen can do no wrong. She's forced everyone to believe in her, but you have to believe in love more."

Mr. Mills was pacing, shaking his head vigorously back and forth. "Even if … even if Selena was capable of … of hurting her sister, even if that were possible, what you're talking about… True Love's Kiss and evil queens? That falls under the realm of not possible. Not even a little bit."

"But how else can you explain it?" Henry asked. "You heard Aria. There's no medical reason –"

"She's not a doctor," Mr. Mills said. "Neither am I. We can't understand what's happening, but that doesn't mean there isn't something –"

"N-no, she is right about that," a nurse said. "The charts are clear. There is no medical reason for her not to have woken up. There's nothing to treat. It's just like she's sleeping, and she won't wake up."

"See!" Henry said. "So you have to try something, because you love each other, and it's the only way to save her."

"I don't love her," Mr. Mills said. "I mean, she's my sister-in-law; I'm married."

"You're married to a woman who tried to kill her sister," Aria said. "Think about it, David. What do you owe her?"

"I … I owe her a conversation, at least. I need to call her."

"You can't," Henry said, grabbing Mr. Mills' hand before he could reach for his phone, "She tried to kill Mary Margaret, and if she finds out that she's still alive, she'll try again. You can't put her at risk like that."

"You know," Mr. Mills said, "before your family got to town, everything was so much easier."

Aria scoffed. "Easier? For some, maybe. But was it better?"

"Women have been beaten –"

Henry noticed Aria stiffen, "Women were beaten long before Emma came to town, David. I can guarantee you that," she shook herself, "But it's not just the town that's changed for the better. Think, David, since they came to town, what has changed for you? Haven't you been happier? Haven't you and Mary Margaret grown closer? Haven't you found a new … sense of purpose? Like you were waking up from a dream; like you were finding yourself again?"

Mr. Mills let out a sigh, "I don't know," he said.

Except you do know, Henry thought. You have to. "Just try," he said. "Just try to remember how she makes you feel."

Mr. Mills looked over at Mary Margaret, and Henry could see the affection, longing, and grief in the man's eyes. How could Mr. Mills not see it himself?

"I won't call her," he said, "and I do want to help Mary Margaret. But I can't … I can't cheat on my wife. That's not who I am."

"Read this," Henry said, trying to give him the book again. "Maybe it will help you remember who you are. Read it to her."

Mr. Mills shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "All right, kid. I guess there's nothing wrong with reading some fairy tales to her. Maybe she'll wake up just in time for the end."

---

Emma didn't feel like she'd made any progress. She had tried to call objects to her, to float things, to … she didn't even know. Nothing worked.

Neal was doing his best to be supportive, though he seemed a little uncomfortable with the whole thing.

As she tried to concentrate on what would likely be another failed attempt, she heard someone push the door open behind her.

The mayor came storming in, pushing a girl in front of her, as she held a gun held to the girl's temple. Behind her, Sheriff Graham had a gun trained on Jamie Jones, and the mayor's children were also carrying guns, which they quickly aimed at Neal and her father-in-law respectively.

"Don't mind me," the mayor said. "I saw there was a party going on, so I brought a few more guests and a few poppers."

"What is this?" Emma asked.

"Don't interrupt dear," the mayor said. "I've also brought dessert."

She nodded to her son, who, with his non-gun-wielding hand brought out a plastic bag with a familiar pastry in it.

"None of us are dumb enough to eat that," Emma said. "We know who you are, and we know what you've done."

"Well, it's not everyone that is up to speed then," she said. "But you will eat this, because if you don't, bullets will be bouncing off these walls. I'll shoot poor Lydia here, for starters, and Graham will kill your sister-in-law, while the twins finish off your husband and father-in-law. And once I've killed everyone you love, I'll start on the rest of the town. All those people, dead, because of you. Wouldn't it be better to have a sweet, and take a little nap?"

Emma stared at the madwoman, who had given guns to children. Even if she could fight them without anyone getting shot, they were just kids.

"Graham, you don't have to listen to her," Emma said, trying to appeal to the only person with a gun who might be swayed to her side.

The mayor just laughed. "Of course he does. I have his heart."

"Neal, I'm sorry," Jamie said. "I really don't know what's going on."

"It's okay," Neal said. "I mean, not okay, but not your fault. Don't worry. We'll get out of this."

Emma wanted to smack Neal and hug him at the same time. He was always the optimist, always so certain that things would work out.

"Emma, remember what Dorothy told you," her father-in-law said. "Think about who you want to protect."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind.

"What are you doing?" the mayor asked.

Emma thought of Neal, whom she loved more than anything, and she thought of her love for the only father she had ever known. She thought about those poor kids, who were at the mercy of a madwoman. She thought of Jamie, and what it would mean to Neal to have a sister. She thought of poor Graham, who had seemed decent before everything went insane. And that poor girl, whom she didn't even know, but who looked so scared.

That was when she felt the ground tremble.

"How are you doing that?" the mayor shrieked, She took her gun from the girl's temple to aim it at Emma's kneecap. "Stop it this instant!"

She shot at Emma, but the girl she had been holding pushed her arm, and the shot went wide.

"Stupid girl," the mayor said, slapping her, and then Jack of all people rushed the mayor, only for her to shoot him in the side. He went down, and the girl broke away from the mayor and ran to his side.

Then, the mayor turned her gun on Dorothy, while Graham's gun was still on Jamie, and his eyes kept darting from Neal to the children.

Neal, for his part, looked panicked, but also as though he was about to do something reckless. Emma knew she needed to buy him time. She needed to buy them all time.

She closed her eyes again and tried to regain her focus. She heard shots, it sounded like a struggle was going on, and a then a shot rang out.

Her eyes flew open, and she saw Neal gaping at a bullet that lay at his feet. Someone had shot at him, which made her furious, but the bullet hadn't hit him. Something had blocked it; something had protected him. While she didn't want to admit it, she knew in her bones that that something had been her.

She could do this. She had magic and she could do this. She could protect those she loved. The ground shook again, and she could feel that it was coming from her. Bits of ceiling began to fall, and Neal seemed to think that was just enough distraction for him to rush the sheriff. The two men were rolling on the floor, while Jamie scrambled for the gun.

Once she had it, the children aimed theirs at her, but Emma thought of Neal and what Jamie meant to him, and about how he'd be a sitting duck for these kids who had already shot at him once, and the guns floated out of the children's hands and into hers. She threw one to her father-in-law, and the other to Dorothy, both of whom, thankfully, caught them. She had wanted to throw one to Neal, but he was fighting with Graham, and it would have been difficult to ensure he would be the one to get the weapon and not Graham.

"It looks like the end for you, dearie," her father-in-law said, training a gun on the mayor. "You're outmatched."

She shook her head, smiling despite the blood smearing her cheek, her gun trained on him as well. "You forget, I'm pregnant. You can't kill me without killing an innocent child as well. Are you capable of that?"

Her father-in-law didn't answer right away, but then he looked at his son, struggling on the floor. "There are ways to stop you with this gun that won't mean your life," he said.

"Papa –" she heard Neal say.

"Emma, leave," her father-in-law said. "We have this well in hand, thanks to you. You should go to the hospital and check on your mother. You can save her now. You know how."

"I didn't … I don't …. I don't know how I did it."

"But you did it, because you had to. You'll figure this out as well."

"It's too late for her mother," the mayor said. "She's surely dead by now."

"Emma, go!" Neal called.

"But – But I can't just leave you like this."

"We'll be okay," he said. "You need to go."

Her phone rang then, and she knew from the ringtone that it was Henry. Henry was at the hospital with Mary Margaret, her mother, a woman who might already be dead.

A piece of ceiling nearly missed Neal, but it did get him out from under Graham. As he scrambled up, Jamie put her gun on Graham, motioning for Neal to join Emma. He grabbed her hand and started to lead her out.

"You think I'd just let you leave," the mayor said, her gun now trained on Neal. A shot went off, and blood came spilling out of the mayor's arm.

"You shouldn't have taken your eyes off of me," Emma's father-in-law said. "And you shouldn't have threatened my family."

"Emma, we have to go," Neal said.

"But if we leave them –"

"Once the curse is broken, it won't matter."

"I don't even know how to break it!"

"So, start with saving your mother," he said, tugging on her arm. "Let's go."

She knew he was right, so she followed him out of the asylum and into the car. Once they were buckled in, she answered the phone with, "You're on speaker kid. Tell us what's going on."

"There is a lot of beeping, but they say her heart rate is falling. Mom, you have to get here."

"We're on our way, kid," she said. "We're on our way."

---

It wasn't easy getting into the palace. Snow had the help of David, of course, and the dwarves, but it wasn't the same as an army. They couldn't mount a full-scale attack, not yet. It would never have worked.

However, one of the dwarves was named Stealthy, and he lived up to his name. David had taught Snow tricks he'd learned from the huntsman as well, and with all their skills combined, she was able to sneak into the royal chamber.

She saw the woman who wore her mother's face starring into a mirror, a triumphant smile on her face. Then, her face froze, and Snow knew that the woman had seen her reflection.

"Surprised to see me?" she asked.

"How are you awake?" the witch asked. "How did you get in here?"

Snow ignored the question, and instead asked one of her own. "Who are you?"

"I'll call the guards," the woman said.

"Go ahead. I'll tell them how you killed my mother and took on her image."

"Nobody will believe you, you lying chit," the woman said with a sneer.

"Really? Because I've lived in this palace my whole life. I know these men, and they know me. They also knew my mother. You, however, didn't. You don't know her secrets. You don't know all the little moments that I can recall with such clarity. Will they believe you, when you don't remember her life? I'm willing to bet they won't. They'll see you for who you really are. A murderer, who has no right sitting on a throne."

"And you think it's your right? Why? Because you were born into it? You have earned nothing in your entire life. You were lucky enough to be born into love and power. Not all of us have that. We have to fight our way to the top. I deserve this throne more than you, because I fought for it, and I won."

"If you won, why am I still alive?" Snow asked. "If it's a fight you want, you'll get one. Now that I know who you are, I have no reason not to raise an army against you. The people have seen you for the tyrant you are. They won't want you on the throne. They will believe me, and they will rally to me side."

"Guards!" the evil queen called. "Guards! Snow White has come to finish me off. Come, now!"

Snow shook her head, sadly. "You're only making it harder on yourself. You know they would never really kill me. That's why you had to poison me yourself."

The guards ran in the room, weapons at the ready, and stared in shock and uncertainty at what appeared to be mother and daughter.

"No need to shoot," Snow said. "We were just talking. Myself and this pretender."

"Shoot her!" the evil queen said, screeching like a banshee. "Shoot her now!"

When the men didn't shoot, the evil queen said, "Oh, you're useless," and with a wave of her hand, they began to turn into the creatures that had attacked Snow's parents on that terrible day.

"NO!" Snow screamed, throwing herself at the evil queen, who simply teleported away.

"Idiot child," she said. "You can't fight magic with brute force."

"We broke your curse," she said, "and we will free this kingdom."

"Well then," the evil queen said, "I suppose I'm in for a fight. You know, I had gotten a bit bored. Perhaps this is just what I need." She called a broomstick—of all things—to her hand, and sat on it. "My monkeys and I will see you on the battlefield." With that last parting jab, the evil queen, still in the guise of Snow's mother, flew out the palace window on a broomstick, the former soldiers flying after her.

David burst into the room. "Is it over?" he asked.

Snow shook her head. "No. it's just the beginning."

---

Emma wasn't sure how to get to Mary Margaret. Storybrooke might just have the one sheriff, but the nurses and doctors surely wouldn't let the woman that they thought had poisoned Mary Margaret in to see her, would they?

"I'll distract them," Neal said.

"Neal, they've been trying to get to you for those attacks! If you go in there –"

"Then a lot of angry people will come after me, and nobody will be paying attention to you."

"This place isn't like the normal world. Laws don't seem to matter; they could kill you!"

"I'll be fine," Neal said, his old cocky grin in place.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because this can't be the end. Fate wouldn't be that cruel. We found each other in a world among millions, and we fell in love, had a great kid, and now there're finally no secrets between us. So, this isn't the end. It's the beginning." He pulled her in for a hug. "You can do this," he said.

"Because it's my destiny?"

"No," he said. "Because when you put your mind to it, there's nothing you can't do. And because you deserve to have everything. You deserve your family."

"You're my family," she said. "You always will be. I can't lose you."

He kissed her then, slow and sweet. "You won't," he said, his forehead against hers. "I promise you won't."

She pecked his lips. "I'm going to hold you to that."

He gave her a two-fingered salute, and then entered the hospital lobby. "Hey, so, I hear some people have been looking for me," he said, all innocence. The mob descended on him.

Despite every bone in her body screaming at her not to leave him behind, she raced past the mob and into the hospital hallways, running until she saw the room marked Mary Margaret Blanchard.

She tried to slip in quietly, listening to David reading to Mary Margaret from the storybook that Henry had, no doubt, given him, hoping David would take a bathroom break or something and not notice her.

"Mom!" Henry said, and she winced. So much for not being noticed.

David stood, a pained look on his face.

"David, I swear," Emma started, "I had nothing to do with –"

He put a hand up. "I'm not sure what I believe right now," he said, "but … things aren't what I thought they were. And maybe … maybe you aren't either."

"I think … I think I can help her. It's a little crazy, but …"

Amazingly, David stepped back to make way for her. "You couldn't possibly make it worse. But I'll be watching."

Emma nodded. She sat at Mary Margaret's bedside, held her hand, and closed her eyes, trying to lean into the love and protectiveness that she'd felt for this woman the moment she'd seen her living in an abandoned theater. Her mother. Mary Margaret was her mother.

"I found you," she said. "After all these years, I found you."

Nothing was happening. Why wasn't it working? It had worked in the asylum. Had that been all the magic she had? Had she used it up, saving Neal? She couldn't regret that, and yet …

She felt tears begin to form. What if she lost this woman, her mother, before they even got a chance? Before she ever said, "I love you"? She whispered those words now, bringing the hand to her cheek, pretending it was her mother drying her tears, just like she had imagined all those years in foster care. "I love you, Mom. Please, don't leave me." She kissed Mary Margaret's hand, and then she felt a pulse of … something. It looked like a rainbow exploding around them, and it felt warm and powerful.

Mary Margaret gasped as she awakened.

"Oh, Emma," she said, her hand flattening on her daughter's cheek, "I love you too."

"Snow!" David cried. "And … and Emma? You're … are you our daughter?"

And then the three of them were hugging, and Emma felt something click into place deep within herself.

---

The curse was broken. Maleficent felt it the second it happened. All over Storybrooke, people would be waking up from a twenty-eight-year-long nightmare. They would be reuniting with their loved ones, and they would be calling for Zelena's head.

But Mal's loved one wasn't in Storybrooke, and to find her, she would need more magic than the little bottle held.

That was why she had come to this well that returned lost things. She tipped the bottle into the well and watched purple smoke billow through the trees and into town. Storybrooke was awake, and now, it had magic.

She smiled to herself, because she knew: this was just the beginning.