A New Beginning

Regina abruptly yanked Emma sideways just as something whistled through the air where her head had been. An arrow buried itself into a nearby tree trunk with a violent thunk.

“Oh, come on!” Emma shouted incredulously. “These people have arrows?”

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Regina snapped breathlessly, “this is not your world.”

Another shout rang out behind them. They were closer now. Too close.

Emma risked a glance over her shoulder and instantly regretted it. At least six figures were pushing through the woods after them carrying torches and weapons. Though she’d planned for stealth when rescuing Regina, she’d clearly failed.

One of them raised another bow.

“Regina!”

“I know!”

The Queen stumbled hard suddenly, nearly dragging Emma down with her before catching herself against a tree trunk. For one terrible second she simply stayed there with her head lowered, breathing harshly.

Emma’s stomach dropped. “Hey.” She grabbed Regina’s arm. “Hey, stay with me.”

Regina let out one short, humourless laugh. “How touching.”

“Less sarcasm, more running.”

“I am trying, Miss Swan.”

Another arrow struck the ground nearby. That decided things.

Regina straightened sharply, something dangerous flickering across her bruised face before she suddenly shoved Emma hard against the nearest tree.

“What the hell—”

“Quiet.”

Regina lifted both hands. The air changed instantly.

Emma felt it before she saw it — that same awful electric pressure from the town hall, thickening around them until the forest itself seemed to vibrate. Leaves began spiralling violently upward from the forest floor. Branches groaned overhead.

Behind them, the pursuing villagers faltered.

“What’s she doing?”

“Stop her!”

Regina’s jaw clenched painfully, her fingers trembling as purple light flickered weakly through them. Not steady magic. Fractured magic. Exhausted magic.

Emma suddenly realised how dangerous this probably was in Regina’s condition.

“Regina—”

“Either I do this,” Regina ground out through gritted teeth, “or they kill us both.”

Fair enough.

The wind exploded outward and Regina screamed.

Emma barely had time to gasp before Regina grabbed hold of her jacket again and the world vanished.

Everything twisted violently.

Emma felt herself being ripped sideways through freezing air, her stomach lurching sickeningly as darkness and light blurred together around them. There was no ground, no sky, no sense of direction. Only motion. Endless unbearable motion.

Then suddenly—

Impact.

Emma hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. Pain shot through her shoulder as she rolled violently across rough earth before finally skidding to a stop against something solid.

For several long seconds she could only lay there gasping.

Then somewhere nearby, Regina made a strangled choking sound.

Emma forced herself upright immediately. “Regina?”

Moonlight spilled silver through enormous trees around them, illuminating a narrow overgrown path almost completely swallowed by weeds and dead leaves.

A few feet away, Regina was on her hands and knees vomiting violently into the grass.

Emma stared.

Okay. That was…new.

The Queen remained there breathing harshly long after her stomach was empty, one hand pressed weakly into the dirt beneath her.

“Regina?” Emma approached cautiously. “You good?”

Regina turned her head just enough to glare at her murderously through loose strands of dark hair. “Do I look good to you?” Dark eyes were bloodshot and glassy with unskilled tears, her voice full of gravel.

“Honestly? You look like death.”

“Wonderful.”

Despite the bite of her words, her voice sounded dangerously thin.

Emma crouched beside her automatically. “Hey.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re vomiting in a forest.”

“I teleported us halfway across the realm while half dead.” Regina snapped before immediately wincing like even raising her voice hurt. “Forgive me for not appearing particularly graceful afterward.”

Emma blinked at her for a second. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. A short startled sound she clearly hadn’t meant to make.

Regina looked deeply unimpressed. “I fail to see the humour.”

“Sorry,” Emma muttered, still slightly breathless from it. “It’s just…you’re still doing the evil queen thing even while throwing up in the bushes.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I can still leave you here.”

“Yeah, pretty sure you need me now.”

That earned her silence.

Interesting.

Emma’s amusement faded slightly as she looked around properly for the first time. The forest here felt…different. Older somehow. Wilder.

Ahead of them, beyond the trees, the silhouette of a massive structure rose against the night sky.

Emma slowly stood. “What is that?”

Regina followed her gaze.

For the first time since Emma had met her, Regina looked genuinely caught off guard.

Not fearful. Not angry. Just…stunned.

The ruin of an enormous estate stood beyond the tree line, partially collapsed beneath years of neglect. Ivy consumed entire walls while broken towers stretched upward like skeletal remains against the moonlight. A long cracked stone pathway disappeared toward it beneath layers of weeds.

Emma looked back toward Regina. “You know this place?”

Regina remained very still for several seconds before finally pushing herself shakily upright. “Unfortunately.”

Emma frowned slightly. “Unfortunately?”

Regina didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on the ruined estate ahead, something distant and unreadable moving across her bruised face. Then quietly, “This was my home.”

Oh.

Emma looked back toward the estate with entirely new eyes.

Not the castle. Emma was pretty sure this had come before that. Before Storybrooke, before the Evil Queen, before Snow White. Something uncomfortable twisted low in Emma’s stomach. Because suddenly Regina didn’t feel like some untouchable villain from a storybook anymore.

She felt real, almost…human.

And apparently exhausted beyond belief because moments later Regina swayed dangerously where she stood.

Emma reacted before thinking, catching her by both arms.

Regina stiffened immediately. “Do not.”

“What?”

“Look at me like that.”

Emma blinked. “Like what?”

“Like you pity me.”

The venom in her voice was immediate. Instinctive.

Emma’s expression hardened automatically. “Trust me, lady, pity is not what I’m feeling.”

Regina let out a quiet humourless laugh. “Good.”

Then her knees buckled.

Emma barely caught her in time. “Whoa—hey!”

Regina made an irritated sound somewhere between a curse and a groan as Emma struggled to keep her upright. Up close, Emma could feel how badly she was shaking now. Her skin was freezing beneath Emma’s hands despite the sweat clinging to her temples.

“You overdid it,” Emma realised aloud.

Regina’s eyes fluttered briefly before focusing again. “Astounding deduction.”

“Can you stop being mean for like five seconds?”

“No.”

At least she answered honestly.

Emma exhaled sharply and adjusted her grip around Regina’s waist instead. “Okay. Fine. Evil queen attitude aside, can you walk?”

Regina looked toward the estate again. Something softened in her expression then vanished so quickly Emma almost missed it. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I can walk.”

The path toward the manor was almost completely reclaimed by nature. Thick vines crawled over broken stone statues while trees pushed through sections of the old courtyard itself. Whatever this place had once been, time had destroyed most of it.

Still, Emma could see traces of former grandeur everywhere. Massive archways. Marble pillars. Elaborate carvings half hidden beneath moss and ivy.

Regina moved through it strangely slowly.

Not cautiously. Reverently almost.

Emma stayed close beside her mostly because she was fairly certain Regina would collapse otherwise, though she tried not to make it obvious. “This place belonged to your family?” she asked eventually.

Regina nodded once. “Long before I ever lived in your Grandfather’s castle.”

Emma glanced sideways at her, trying hard not to squirm. “You grew up here?”

“Yes.”

The single word carried enough weight to stop Emma from asking anything else for a while.

They climbed the cracked stone steps toward the enormous front entrance only to find the heavy wooden doors hanging partially open. One had fallen completely from its hinges centuries ago by the look of it.

Inside was worse.

Moonlight spilled through holes in the ceiling overhead, illuminating layers of dust and debris coating what remained of the grand entrance hall. Furniture lay broken and rotted. Torn curtains drifted faintly in the cold night air.

And yet Regina stopped dead in the doorway like she’d been physically struck.

Emma looked at her carefully.

Regina’s face had gone pale beneath the bruising. Her eyes moved slowly over the ruined hall, drinking in every broken piece of it with an expression Emma couldn’t quite decipher.

Grief, maybe.

Not for the building. For the life attached to it.

“This place should not still exist,” Regina whispered.

Emma frowned. “Why?”

“Because Cora destroyed it.”

Emma stayed quiet as Regina stepped slowly into the manor. Her footsteps echoed softly through the ruined hall.

Then suddenly Regina laughed.

The sound startled Emma enough that she visibly jumped. “What?”

Regina shook her head once, staring toward the grand staircase ahead. “She hated this house.”

“Your mom?” Emma felt it was safe to assume.

“Yes.” Bitterness flooded the single syllable. “She thought it small. Beneath her. She spent years clawing her way into royalty only to inherit a crumbling estate in the middle of nowhere when she married my father.”

Emma folded her arms slightly. “And let me guess. Healthy family environment?”

Regina looked at her flatly. “She ripped out people’s hearts for sport.”

“Right. Yeah. There it is.” For the first time all night, something that almost resembled genuine amusement flickered briefly across Regina’s face.

It vanished quickly when her legs nearly gave out again.

Emma caught her immediately this time with far less hesitation. “Okay. Nope. We’re sitting down.”

“I am not helpless.”

“You are if you pass out.”

Regina opened her mouth clearly intending to argue further before another wave of dizziness visibly hit her. Her jaw clenched.

Emma guided her carefully toward the remains of a long velvet sofa somehow still partially intact beneath all the dust. Regina sat heavily with obvious reluctance.

Silence settled between them for several moments.

Outside, distant thunder rolled somewhere across the forest.

Emma leaned back against the opposite wall, exhaustion finally beginning to crash into her now that they’d stopped moving. Every muscle in her body hurt. Her head was pounding. She had absolutely no idea how they were supposed to survive here.

Across from her, Regina sat with her head tipped back against the sofa, eyes closed. For once, she looked her age. Not the terrifying queen. Not the mayor.

Just tired.

Emma studied her quietly before speaking. “You really thought they were gonna kill you.”

Regina’s eyes opened slowly. “Yes.”

No sarcasm. No manipulation. Just truth.

Emma swallowed unexpectedly hard. “Why were you so scared to come back here?”

Regina looked away first.

For a long moment Emma thought she wouldn’t answer.

Then quietly, “Because there are worse things than death in this world.”

A chill crawled slowly down Emma’s spine.

And for the first time since arriving in the Enchanted Forest, she realised something terrifying.

Regina hadn’t been afraid of the villagers. She’d been afraid of what else might find her first.

”Well,” Emma breathed out a stressed laugh, “good job you’re the big scary Evil Queen, isn’t it?”

“Stop it.”

Emma frowned, her smile fading from her face. “What?”

“Stop calling me…that.”

“Regina, I-“

“You keep calling me the Evil Queen,” Regina interrupted with her eyes pressed closed. Emma wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or something else.

“Isn’t that who you are?”

“No, Miss Swan,” Regina’s dark eyes opened, hard and unfaltering as she stared at her. They were clouded with emotion, troubled deeply. “I am not the Evil Queen. That was a title given to me by your mother and adopted by her adoring followers. I am not the caricature they made me out to be and for you to keep calling me that so easily when you know nothing of who I was or who I am is, quite frankly, insulting.”

Emma wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Regina simply scowled at her, lip curling distastefully as she looked away.

After a long moment of loaded silence, Emma lifted herself up and began searching the room they were in.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long before Regina was asking, “What are you doing?”

“Looking for stuff to build a fire,” she looked over her shoulder at the brunette, “I don’t know about you but I don’t like the idea of freezing to death out here while we wait for you to be able to walk in a straight line again.”

Regina rolled her eyes, grimacing when it caused a wave of nausea to wash over her before she was waving a hand towards a pile of heavy dark wood in the middle of the room.

Emma just about managed to identify it as a broken dining table and chairs before it was set alight by the fireball Regina conjured.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she sighed, turning and watching the way Regina paled even further, her throat moving with thick swallows as she tried to keep herself from vomiting again. “No more magic, at least not until you’ve had time to rest.”

“You are not my keeper, Miss Swan.”

“No, but I might end up being the reason you survive this whole damn mess and I’m also counting on you to be the reason I survive this whole damn mess so just close your eyes, relax and get yourself all juiced up again.”

Regina breathed a heavy sigh as she leaned her head back against the sofa again and closed her eyes. “Such a way with words.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma waved her off irritably. “I’m going to gather some more wood, keep this thing going.”

She thought Regina had already fallen asleep with the silence that followed, but just as she made it to the door, intent on checking outside for anything they could burn, she heard a quiet, “Stay close,” from the woman behind her.

She swallowed down the whispers of anxiety that came to her in the silence that followed, steeling herself against the panic threatening to take over as she closed her eyes and gave her body a shake. “I will,” she replied after a moment, hoping that by morning, they’d have a clearer idea of what the hell they were going to do to get out of this place in one piece.

They ran blindly into the forest.

Branches clawed at Emma’s jacket and caught in her hair as she stumbled after Regina through the dark. Behind them, the shouting from the camp only grew louder.

“There!”

“They went this way!”

“Don’t let her escape!”

Emma’s lungs burned almost immediately. The ground here was uneven, thick roots twisting beneath layers of damp leaves and mud. Several times she nearly lost her footing entirely and only Regina’s iron grip on her wrist kept her upright.

Which was insane in itself because Regina could barely walk straight.

The Queen was visibly flagging now that adrenaline had begun wearing off. Her breathing had turned uneven, her movements less precise than they’d been moments earlier. Emma could feel the tremor running through the hand gripping hers.

“They’re gaining on us,” Emma hissed over the sound of crashing undergrowth behind them.

“I am aware.” Regina’s voice was sharp with strain.

A torchlight flickered somewhere through the trees behind them. Then another.

Emma swore under her breath. “Okay, yeah, no, we are definitely not outrunning them.” She grimaced at the way her lungs burned. “I can feel every single bear claw I’ve ever eaten trying to get out of me.”

Regina abruptly yanked Emma sideways just as something whistled through the air where her head had been. An arrow buried itself into a nearby tree trunk with a violent thunk.

“Oh, come on!” Emma shouted incredulously. “These people have arrows?”

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Regina snapped breathlessly, “this is not your world.”

Another shout rang out behind them. They were closer now. Too close.

Emma risked a glance over her shoulder and instantly regretted it. At least six figures were pushing through the woods after them carrying torches and weapons. Though she’d planned for stealth when rescuing Regina, she’d clearly failed.

One of them raised another bow.

“Regina!”

“I know!”

The Queen stumbled hard suddenly, nearly dragging Emma down with her before catching herself against a tree trunk. For one terrible second she simply stayed there with her head lowered, breathing harshly.

Emma’s stomach dropped. “Hey.” She grabbed Regina’s arm. “Hey, stay with me.”

Regina let out one short, humourless laugh. “How touching.”

“Less sarcasm, more running.”

“I am trying, Miss Swan.”

Another arrow struck the ground nearby. That decided things.

Regina straightened sharply, something dangerous flickering across her bruised face before she suddenly shoved Emma hard against the nearest tree.

“What the hell—”

“Quiet.”

Regina lifted both hands. The air changed instantly.

Emma felt it before she saw it — that same awful electric pressure from the town hall, thickening around them until the forest itself seemed to vibrate. Leaves began spiralling violently upward from the forest floor. Branches groaned overhead.

Behind them, the pursuing villagers faltered.

“What’s she doing?”

“Stop her!”

Regina’s jaw clenched painfully, her fingers trembling as purple light flickered weakly through them. Not steady magic. Fractured magic. Exhausted magic.

Emma suddenly realised how dangerous this probably was in Regina’s condition.

“Regina—”

“Either I do this,” Regina ground out through gritted teeth, “or they kill us both.”

Fair enough.

The wind exploded outward and Regina screamed.

Emma barely had time to gasp before Regina grabbed hold of her jacket again and the world vanished.

Everything twisted violently.

Emma felt herself being ripped sideways through freezing air, her stomach lurching sickeningly as darkness and light blurred together around them. There was no ground, no sky, no sense of direction. Only motion. Endless unbearable motion.

Then suddenly—

Impact.

Emma hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. Pain shot through her shoulder as she rolled violently across rough earth before finally skidding to a stop against something solid.

For several long seconds she could only lay there gasping.

Then somewhere nearby, Regina made a strangled choking sound.

Emma forced herself upright immediately. “Regina?”

Moonlight spilled silver through enormous trees around them, illuminating a narrow overgrown path almost completely swallowed by weeds and dead leaves.

A few feet away, Regina was on her hands and knees vomiting violently into the grass.

Emma stared.

Okay. That was…new.

The Queen remained there breathing harshly long after her stomach was empty, one hand pressed weakly into the dirt beneath her.

“Regina?” Emma approached cautiously. “You good?”

Regina turned her head just enough to glare at her murderously through loose strands of dark hair. “Do I look good to you?” Dark eyes were bloodshot and glassy with unskilled tears, her voice full of gravel.

“Honestly? You look like death.”

“Wonderful.”

Despite the bite of her words, her voice sounded dangerously thin.

Emma crouched beside her automatically. “Hey.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re vomiting in a forest.”

“I teleported us halfway across the realm while half dead.” Regina snapped before immediately wincing like even raising her voice hurt. “Forgive me for not appearing particularly graceful afterward.”

Emma blinked at her for a second. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. A short startled sound she clearly hadn’t meant to make.

Regina looked deeply unimpressed. “I fail to see the humour.”

“Sorry,” Emma muttered, still slightly breathless from it. “It’s just…you’re still doing the evil queen thing even while throwing up in the bushes.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I can still leave you here.”

“Yeah, pretty sure you need me now.”

That earned her silence.

Interesting.

Emma’s amusement faded slightly as she looked around properly for the first time. The forest here felt…different. Older somehow. Wilder.

Ahead of them, beyond the trees, the silhouette of a massive structure rose against the night sky.

Emma slowly stood. “What is that?”

Regina followed her gaze.

For the first time since Emma had met her, Regina looked genuinely caught off guard.

Not fearful. Not angry. Just…stunned.

The ruin of an enormous estate stood beyond the tree line, partially collapsed beneath years of neglect. Ivy consumed entire walls while broken towers stretched upward like skeletal remains against the moonlight. A long cracked stone pathway disappeared toward it beneath layers of weeds.

Emma looked back toward Regina. “You know this place?”

Regina remained very still for several seconds before finally pushing herself shakily upright. “Unfortunately.”

Emma frowned slightly. “Unfortunately?”

Regina didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on the ruined estate ahead, something distant and unreadable moving across her bruised face. Then quietly, “This was my home.”

Oh.

Emma looked back toward the estate with entirely new eyes.

Not the castle. Emma was pretty sure this had come before that. Before Storybrooke, before the Evil Queen, before Snow White. Something uncomfortable twisted low in Emma’s stomach. Because suddenly Regina didn’t feel like some untouchable villain from a storybook anymore.

She felt real, almost…human.

And apparently exhausted beyond belief because moments later Regina swayed dangerously where she stood.

Emma reacted before thinking, catching her by both arms.

Regina stiffened immediately. “Do not.”

“What?”

“Look at me like that.”

Emma blinked. “Like what?”

“Like you pity me.”

The venom in her voice was immediate. Instinctive.

Emma’s expression hardened automatically. “Trust me, lady, pity is not what I’m feeling.”

Regina let out a quiet humourless laugh. “Good.”

Then her knees buckled.

Emma barely caught her in time. “Whoa—hey!”

Regina made an irritated sound somewhere between a curse and a groan as Emma struggled to keep her upright. Up close, Emma could feel how badly she was shaking now. Her skin was freezing beneath Emma’s hands despite the sweat clinging to her temples.

“You overdid it,” Emma realised aloud.

Regina’s eyes fluttered briefly before focusing again. “Astounding deduction.”

“Can you stop being mean for like five seconds?”

“No.”

At least she answered honestly.

Emma exhaled sharply and adjusted her grip around Regina’s waist instead. “Okay. Fine. Evil queen attitude aside, can you walk?”

Regina looked toward the estate again. Something softened in her expression then vanished so quickly Emma almost missed it. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I can walk.”

The path toward the manor was almost completely reclaimed by nature. Thick vines crawled over broken stone statues while trees pushed through sections of the old courtyard itself. Whatever this place had once been, time had destroyed most of it.

Still, Emma could see traces of former grandeur everywhere. Massive archways. Marble pillars. Elaborate carvings half hidden beneath moss and ivy.

Regina moved through it strangely slowly.

Not cautiously. Reverently almost.

Emma stayed close beside her mostly because she was fairly certain Regina would collapse otherwise, though she tried not to make it obvious. “This place belonged to your family?” she asked eventually.

Regina nodded once. “Long before I ever lived in your Grandfather’s castle.”

Emma glanced sideways at her, trying hard not to squirm. “You grew up here?”

“Yes.”

The single word carried enough weight to stop Emma from asking anything else for a while.

They climbed the cracked stone steps toward the enormous front entrance only to find the heavy wooden doors hanging partially open. One had fallen completely from its hinges centuries ago by the look of it.

Inside was worse.

Moonlight spilled through holes in the ceiling overhead, illuminating layers of dust and debris coating what remained of the grand entrance hall. Furniture lay broken and rotted. Torn curtains drifted faintly in the cold night air.

And yet Regina stopped dead in the doorway like she’d been physically struck.

Emma looked at her carefully.

Regina’s face had gone pale beneath the bruising. Her eyes moved slowly over the ruined hall, drinking in every broken piece of it with an expression Emma couldn’t quite decipher.

Grief, maybe.

Not for the building. For the life attached to it.

“This place should not still exist,” Regina whispered.

Emma frowned. “Why?”

“Because Cora destroyed it.”

Emma stayed quiet as Regina stepped slowly into the manor. Her footsteps echoed softly through the ruined hall.

Then suddenly Regina laughed.

The sound startled Emma enough that she visibly jumped. “What?”

Regina shook her head once, staring toward the grand staircase ahead. “She hated this house.”

“Your mom?” Emma felt it was safe to assume.

“Yes.” Bitterness flooded the single syllable. “She thought it small. Beneath her. She spent years clawing her way into royalty only to inherit a crumbling estate in the middle of nowhere when she married my father.”

Emma folded her arms slightly. “And let me guess. Healthy family environment?”

Regina looked at her flatly. “She ripped out people’s hearts for sport.”

“Right. Yeah. There it is.” For the first time all night, something that almost resembled genuine amusement flickered briefly across Regina’s face.

It vanished quickly when her legs nearly gave out again.

Emma caught her immediately this time with far less hesitation. “Okay. Nope. We’re sitting down.”

“I am not helpless.”

“You are if you pass out.”

Regina opened her mouth clearly intending to argue further before another wave of dizziness visibly hit her. Her jaw clenched.

Emma guided her carefully toward the remains of a long velvet sofa somehow still partially intact beneath all the dust. Regina sat heavily with obvious reluctance.

Silence settled between them for several moments.

Outside, distant thunder rolled somewhere across the forest.

Emma leaned back against the opposite wall, exhaustion finally beginning to crash into her now that they’d stopped moving. Every muscle in her body hurt. Her head was pounding. She had absolutely no idea how they were supposed to survive here.

Across from her, Regina sat with her head tipped back against the sofa, eyes closed. For once, she looked her age. Not the terrifying queen. Not the mayor.

Just tired.

Emma studied her quietly before speaking. “You really thought they were gonna kill you.”

Regina’s eyes opened slowly. “Yes.”

No sarcasm. No manipulation. Just truth.

Emma swallowed unexpectedly hard. “Why were you so scared to come back here?”

Regina looked away first.

For a long moment Emma thought she wouldn’t answer.

Then quietly, “Because there are worse things than death in this world.”

A chill crawled slowly down Emma’s spine.

And for the first time since arriving in the Enchanted Forest, she realised something terrifying.

Regina hadn’t been afraid of the villagers. She’d been afraid of what else might find her first.

”Well,” Emma breathed out a stressed laugh, “good job you’re the big scary Evil Queen, isn’t it?”

“Stop it.”

Emma frowned, her smile fading from her face. “What?”

“Stop calling me…that.”

“Regina, I-“

“You keep calling me the Evil Queen,” Regina interrupted with her eyes pressed closed. Emma wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or something else.

“Isn’t that who you are?”

“No, Miss Swan,” Regina’s dark eyes opened, hard and unfaltering as she stared at her. They were clouded with emotion, troubled deeply. “I am not the Evil Queen. That was a title given to me by your mother and adopted by her adoring followers. I am not the caricature they made me out to be and for you to keep calling me that so easily when you know nothing of who I was or who I am is, quite frankly, insulting.”

Emma wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Regina simply scowled at her, lip curling distastefully as she looked away.

After a long moment of loaded silence, Emma lifted herself up and began searching the room they were in.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long before Regina was asking, “What are you doing?”

“Looking for stuff to build a fire,” she looked over her shoulder at the brunette, “I don’t know about you but I don’t like the idea of freezing to death out here while we wait for you to be able to walk in a straight line again.”

Regina rolled her eyes, grimacing when it caused a wave of nausea to wash over her before she was waving a hand towards a pile of heavy dark wood in the middle of the room.

Emma just about managed to identify it as a broken dining table and chairs before it was set alight by the fireball Regina conjured.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she sighed, turning and watching the way Regina paled even further, her throat moving with thick swallows as she tried to keep herself from vomiting again. “No more magic, at least not until you’ve had time to rest.”

“You are not my keeper, Miss Swan.”

“No, but I might end up being the reason you survive this whole damn mess and I’m also counting on you to be the reason I survive this whole damn mess so just close your eyes, relax and get yourself all juiced up again.”

Regina breathed a heavy sigh as she leaned her head back against the sofa again and closed her eyes. “Such a way with words.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma waved her off irritably. “I’m going to gather some more wood, keep this thing going.”

She thought Regina had already fallen asleep with the silence that followed, but just as she made it to the door, intent on checking outside for anything they could burn, she heard a quiet, “Stay close,” from the woman behind her.

Regina sat with her back against the trunk of a large tree, her wrists bound tightly in front of her with thick rope. There was dried blood matted darkly in her hair near her temple and one side of her face was already bruising. Her normally immaculate clothes were filthy with dirt and leaves, though somehow she still held herself rigidly upright despite it all.

Three men stood nearby with weapons clutched tightly in their hands. Hunting knives, an axe, a rusted sword. None of them looked like particularly skilled fighters but then again, what the hell would Emma know about it. This was not the world she was used to.

“She destroyed our homes!” a woman shouted from somewhere near the fire. “Death would be too good for her!”

“And what happens if she escapes?” another man snapped back immediately. “We’ve all seen what she can do.”

“She can barely even stand,” someone pointed out.

Regina’s lip curled. “Untie me and perhaps we can test that theory together.”

Emma closed her eyes for a moment, suppressing a groan at her response. If there was one time for Regina to keep her mouth shut, it was now.

A man crossed the clearing in two furious strides and struck her hard across the face before Emma could even process what was happening. The sound of it echoed through the trees.

Emma physically flinched.

Regina’s head snapped sideways with the force of it but she didn’t cry out. Slowly, she turned her face back toward him, blood visible now at the corner of her mouth.

She laughed.

Not loudly or confidently. Just one short, breathless laugh filled with pure contempt. “You should’ve killed me before I woke up.”

The crowd erupted into angry shouting again but, to Emma’s disbelief, no one looked scandalised by what the man had done. No one even looked surprised. In fact, there were a few who looked like they’d like to do the same.

Back in Storybrooke, or anywhere in her world, if someone had hit a restrained prisoner in public there would have been outrage. Arrests, consequences. Here, the violence barely registered.

She was already beginning to see what Regina had been talking about.

“Enough,” an older man barked finally, stepping forward from the edge of the crowd. His beard was streaked heavily with grey and exhaustion lined every inch of his face. “Screaming at her won’t change what’s happened.”

“And neither will keeping her alive,” someone spat.

A murmur of agreement rippled through the clearing. The older man looked toward Regina with open hatred. “At first light,” he said grimly, “we end this.”

Emma’s stomach dropped. She was quite sure he wasn’t talking about having a fair and frank discussion at first light, not after what she’d seen so far. She was quite sure at first light meant only one thing.

Regina’s execution.

Just like that. No trial, no discussion, no hesitation.

And suddenly, Regina’s voice echoed through her mind with awful clarity.

People were executed without trial and sometimes without justification.

Emma looked toward the bound woman.

For the first time since she had known Regina Mills, she looked genuinely vulnerable. And somehow that was far more unsettling than her magic ever had been.

The older man walked away, along with some of the others but there were a few who remained.

Emma should have walked away - even without knowing where the hell she was or how she was going to get home, she should have walked away and let them exact whatever punishment they had in mind for Regina, even if it did mean her death.

The thought came quickly and brutally, settling heavily in the pit of her stomach as she remained hidden from sight.

This was Regina. This was the Evil Queen. The woman responsible for wreaking havoc on the very people below. The woman who ripped a whole kingdom of people from their lives and trapping them in Storybrooke for twenty-eight years. The woman who had manipulated Henry, gaslit him until he’d begun questioning his own sanity. The woman Emma had watched threaten, hurt and terrorise people time and time again without repercussion.

And yet…

None of that stopped the unease curling through her chest as she watched a terrified, exhausted group of people decide another human being’s fate over the crackling of a campfire.

Regina lifted her head slightly, eyes sweeping over the remaining crowd before narrowing faintly.

Emma stilled. For one horrible second she thought she’d somehow been spotted, but Regina’s gaze drifted past her position toward the tree line beyond. Calculating. Measuring distances, escape routes.

Even tied to a tree and bleeding, she was still trying to survive.

A woman near the fire began crying quietly, someone wrapped an arm around her.

Regina’s expression flickered. Not guilt, something sharper, more complicated. Recognition, perhaps.

Emma frowned.

“Why?” the woman wailed. “Why any of it?”

The clearing quieted, the older man and the men who’d followed him stopped and turned back to look at them.

Regina looked up at the woman slowly, her face unreadable despite the bruise darkening along her jaw. “Do you truly expect a satisfying answer?”

”You cursed an entire realm! My children were taken with it, I don’t even know where they are.”

“I don’t recall seeing any orphans in the other world,” Regina replied without emotion, in fact, she looked bored by the conversation. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

The woman surged forward as though she too meant to strike her, only stopping when two others caught her arms.

Emma’s pulse jumped. This was spiralling, fast.

The older man rubbed a hand over his face before addressing the crowd again, “We wait until morning,” he repeated firmly. “No one touches her before then.”

A few unhappy mutters followed but no one openly argued.

Good, Emma thought immediately. Good, that gives me time.

The realisation hit her a second later. She was already thinking about how to get Regina out of this.

She exhaled sharply through her nose and leaned back slightly against the tree behind her, dragging a hand over her face. This was insane. Absolutely insane.

Regina would probably try to kill her the second she untied her.

Actually, no, scratch that. She would definitely try to kill her and probably the rest of the mob stood over her.

And yet, Emma couldn’t seem to shake the image of her being dragged toward the portal, terrified beyond reason, begging for help.

Not commanding. Begging.

Down in the clearing, Regina shifted against the ropes, wincing almost imperceptibly before settling again. One of the men nearby noticed immediately and shoved her shoulder hard enough to force her back against the tree.

“Sit still.”

Emma’s jaw clenched.

Regina looked up at the man, murder practically radiating from her expression. “When I get free,” she said softly, “I will remember your face.”

The man visibly paled before anger quickly replaced it. He grabbed the front of Regina’s blazer and yanked her forward violently. “You think anyone’s scared of you now.”

“Yes,” Regina answered without hesitation.

And, annoyingly enough, Emma thought he looked it.

The man released her with a curse and stepped away again.

Regina let her head fall back against the tree trunk with a quiet exhale, her eyes closing briefly. The firelight caught against her face, illuminating the exhaustion there in a way Emma had never seen before.

Not weakness. Fatigue. There was a difference.

A branch snapped somewhere behind Emma. She whipped around instantly, every muscle in her body going taut as she found herself staring at a little girl no older than eight, clutching an armful of sticks to her chest.

The child stared at her with enormous eyes.

Emma raised a finger to her lips immediately. “Hey,” she whispered carefully. “It’s okay.”

The girl’s gaze darted toward the clearing below before returning nervously to Emma’s face. “Are you with her?”

Emma hesitated and glanced behind her to check she was still going unnoticed.

Down below, Regina opened her eyes again.

Even from this distance, Emma could see the sharp intelligence there, the awareness. Regina was listening to every conversation around her, tracking every movement. Waiting. Surviving.

Emma looked back at the little girl. “No,” she replied eventually, taking a gamble with her answer. “No, I just woke up here. I’m not sure what’s happening to me.”

The girl seemed to breathe a little easier at that as she nodded. “Me too. I’m a little scared.”

“Don’t be,” Emma tried a smile but her heart was thudding anxiously in her chest. If she truly was going to rescue Regina, that meant they both needed to remain alive. “We’ll figure it all out. What’s your name?”

“Evangeline,” the girl replied with her own smile. Hers came much easier. “But you can call me Evie. What’s your name?”

She wasn’t sure why, but something stopped her from answering honestly. “Uh, it’s Ruby,” she replied, almost laughing at herself for the choice.

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Yours too,” Emma replied.

“You should come down and meet the others,” Evie whispered. “It’s not very nice being on your own.”

Emma hesitated automatically, her gaze flickered back toward the clearing below. The sensible part of her brain screamed that walking willingly into a camp full of terrified strangers was an exceptionally bad idea. Particularly when Regina Mills was tied to a tree in the centre of it.

Then her stomach growled, loudly. She couldn’t actually remember the last bit of food she’d put in her mouth after everything that had happened recently.

Evie’s eyes widened before she broke into a tiny smile. “See?”

Emma almost laughed despite herself.

Almost.

Because down below, Regina had turned her gaze back to the treeline and Emma knew this time. Even from this distance, Emma saw the exact moment Regina realised who was standing there and relief flashed briefly across her face so quickly, Emma almost thought she’d imagined it.

Then it vanished.

Regina’s expression shuttered instantly, cold indifference sliding back into place as she looked away first.

Emma’s chest tightened painfully.

“You coming?” Evie asked quietly.

Emma swallowed hard before nodding once. “Yeah. Okay.”

Evie beamed at her immediately before turning and carefully making her way back down the slope. Emma followed more cautiously behind, her eyes darting constantly toward the camp below. Toward Regina.

The closer she got, the worse everything looked.

People weren’t simply frightened. They were traumatised. Shell shocked. There were injuries everywhere she looked now that she was close enough to notice them; hastily wrapped bandages stained through with blood, limping figures, children clinging to adults with hollow eyed terror.

A little boy sat near one of the fires staring blankly at nothing while a woman attempted to sew a tear on his sleeve with trembling hands. Another man was quietly sobbing into both palms while someone beside him tried unsuccessfully to comfort him.

This wasn’t an army preparing for justice.

This was a group of survivors trying desperately to make sense of catastrophe.

Several heads turned the moment Emma stepped fully into the clearing. Instantly, the atmosphere shifted. Suspicion sharpened the exhaustion in their faces. Hands tightened around weapons.

“Evie,” the older grey bearded man barked sharply, “who is that?”

The little girl startled slightly before quickly stepping closer to Emma. “Her name’s Ruby,” she explained. “She woke up in the woods too.”

Every eye in the clearing landed on Emma.

Her pulse hammered.

“Ruby?” the older man repeated.

Emma forced herself not to glance toward Regina. “Yeah.”

“Where are you from?”

Good question.

Emma shrugged carefully. “I don’t really know where I am.” Which, thankfully, wasn’t a lie. “Last thing I remember was…” she trailed off deliberately, letting confusion cloud her expression. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

Murmurs spread quietly through the camp.

“She could’ve been caught in the curse too.”

“Or sent by her.”

“Look at her clothes.”

Emma resisted the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. Compared to everyone else here, her leather jacket and jeans probably looked bizarrely modern. Much like Regina’s pantsuit.

Thankfully, this went unmentioned.

The older man studied her for a long moment before finally sighing tiredly. “We’ve no food to spare,” he said gruffly.

“She can have some of mine,” Evie volunteered immediately.

Emma blinked down at her.

The older man’s expression softened fractionally. “Fine. Stay near the fires after dark and don’t wander into the woods alone. There are things out there worse than hunger.”

Emma nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Only then did she risk looking toward Regina.

The Queen was already watching her.

No recognition crossed her face. No anger. No betrayal.

Nothing.

But Emma could feel it anyway.

Regina knew exactly what she was doing.

Keeping her hidden. Waiting to see what Emma would choose.

—-

Night fell brutally fast.

One moment the forest had been dim beneath heavy clouds and the next it was swallowed by darkness so complete it barely looked real. The campfires became the only real sources of light, flickering weakly against the endless black surrounding them.

Emma stayed quiet.

She listened more than she spoke, sitting near one of the fires with Evie tucked sleepily against her side beneath a rough wool blanket somebody had handed over.

And she learned.

The curse breaking had thrown entire villages into chaos. Some people had woken miles away from where they’d originally been before the curse hit. Some had reappeared inside collapsed buildings or deep in forests. Families had been separated instantly.

And monsters had returned too. Real monsters. Not metaphorical ones.

Emma overheard terrified whispers about trolls on the eastern roads. Ogres near the river crossings. Wolves large enough to pull grown men apart.

Nobody here knew what to do. Nobody was in control.

It made Storybrooke suddenly feel impossibly small and safe by comparison.

Across the clearing, Regina remained tied to the tree.

Nobody offered her food. Nobody offered her water.

A few people screamed abuse at her as darkness settled fully over the camp but most simply avoided looking at her altogether now, as though acknowledging her existence made everything more real.

Emma found herself watching her constantly despite trying not to.

Hours passed.

One by one, people finally began settling down to sleep around the fires, exhaustion eventually winning over fear. Parents curled protectively around children. Others disappeared into rough tents hastily built from salvaged fabric and branches.

The guards remained awake. Three of them.

The axe. The sword. The knife.

Regina’s eyes lifted once toward Emma through the firelight before they lowered again. Still waiting.

Emma exhaled slowly. She was really going to do this. God, she was an idiot.

Carefully disentangling herself from the sleeping Evie, Emma waited until the little girl settled again before slowly rising to her feet. Nobody paid her much attention anymore.

Good.

She moved casually at first, pretending to stretch her legs near the outer edge of camp while quietly assessing the guards. The one with the sword was barely keeping his eyes open. The axe wielder had wandered toward the trees to relieve himself.

Knife guy remained closest to Regina. Of course he did.

Emma crouched near one of the fires, picking up as large a rock as she could manage before turning toward the darkness beyond camp.

Then she threw it hard.

Somewhere deep in the woods, something crashed loudly through the undergrowth.

The reaction was instant.

People jerked awake with frightened cries while the remaining guards shot to their feet.

“What was that?”

“Something’s out there!”

The axe wielder came sprinting back toward camp. “I heard it too!”

Emma used the chaos immediately.

She slipped around the back of the clearing, keeping low behind overturned carts until she reached the tree Regina was tied against.

The Queen looked up sharply as Emma dropped beside her and, for one brief second, genuine surprise cracked through Regina’s composure.

“You came.”

Emma immediately began fumbling with the ropes around her wrists. “Yeah, don’t make a thing out of it.”

Regina stared at her for a moment longer before quietly saying, “I was under the impression you preferred handcuffs.”

Emma snorted despite herself. “Still mouthy. Good sign.”

The ropes loosened suddenly beneath her hands.

Regina had burned through them with magic.

Emma froze. “You could’ve done that the whole time?” she hissed.

“Not without enough strength to escape afterward,” Regina replied smoothly as she pushed herself unsteadily upright. “Magic requires energy, Savior. Something difficult to maintain when one is beaten repeatedly.”

Right. Fair point.

Shouting erupted near the opposite side of camp.

Emma cursed instantly. “Time to move.”

Regina swayed slightly as she stepped forward and Emma caught her automatically before she could fall. The Queen stiffened beneath her grip immediately, pride flaring across her bruised face.

“I can walk.”

“Yeah? Then walk faster.”

Behind them, someone shouted in fury.

“There! Stop them!”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Emma gave back firmly, “This is not your world. Any crimes Regina may have committed-“

“May have committed?” David laughed incredulously. “We have our memories back and they are full of the atrocities that woman committed. She instilled fear in every life she affected.”

Emma shrugged. “Memories aren’t evidence and in this world, that’s all that matters. You can’t lock someone up just because you’re afraid.”

“We are not afraid, Emma. You didn’t live through what we did, you weren’t there.”

“No,” she replied simply, “I wasn’t. So that’s what makes me the best person to decide on what happens in this town. That and the fact that I’m still the Sheriff.”

And then, to add to Regina’s complete and utter confusion…

”You don’t get to decide who Regina is here,” Emma’s bright blue gaze turned back to her, no trace of deception there, just open honesty, “only she can do that. And, for Henry’s sake, I hope she makes the right choice.”

She turned back to look at her newfound parents, looking slightly awkward at having to take such a firm stance against them.

“If she doesn’t, if she does something to jeopardise anyone’s safety in this town, then we’ll revisit the jail thing. Okay?”

They wanted to argue.

Regina watched the way David’s jaw clenched, his furious eyes glancing over at her before he looked back at Emma and nodded once. Snow’s lips were tight as she also nodded her agreement.

“Will we see you later?”

Emma sighed, straightening and folding her arms across her chest. “Probably,” she looked over at Regina and then back to them, “there are some things I’ll need to sort out first and I want to get that town meeting organised as soon as possible before people forget exactly which world they live in and do something stupid or dangerous.”

“Call us if you need our help,” Snow offered, finally stepping away from her husband to place a hand on Emma’s forearm, squeezing her through the leather of her jacket with a small smile.

“I will.”

They gave one last look to Regina, eyes clouded with distrust, before they smiled at their daughter and left hand in hand.

With only the two of them left in the room, Regina focused her attention on the hat once more. She felt rather awkward left in just the Savior’s presence. Particularly after she’d defended her so openly to the two people she hated most in any world. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel now, nor how the blonde would expect her to react after such a show. So she dropped back down and began checking that the magic inside had actually dissipated.

Emma watched, conflicted. She hadn’t meant to strong arm her parents but when they’d assumed their roles as leaders in a world that wasn’t theirs and had attempted to lay down their own law, Emma had bristled. Perhaps her resentment for their choice to send her away as a baby was still unresolved.

“You’re not gonna prove me wrong, are you?”

Regina stilled, eyes closing against the flicker of irritation that flared at the question. She was not a child and she did not have to answer to anyone. Still, for the simple fact that Emma had saved her a night behind cell bars, she tamped down her anger and took a deep calming breath before answering. “No, Miss Swan. I am not. I have no plans to do anything other than return home with my son.”

“Woah, Regina,” Emma breathed a slightly incredulous laugh. “Who said anything about Henry coming home with you?”

Regina turned on her heel and stood in one smooth motion, eyes studying Emma’s expression. She was frowning over at her as though the very notion were ridiculous. “He’s my son.”

“That may be true but you’ve just spent the better part of a year convincing him and everyone around him that he was crazy.”

Regina’s mouth dropped open. “I have not-“

“The boy’s been going to therapy for months, listening to yet another adult lecture him on his overactive imagination because you wanted it.” The small kindness in Emma had disappeared now, her strength returning as she stared Regina down.

“That was for his own good,” Regina replied hotly.

“Don’t pretend anything you did was for him,” Emma scoffed. “You just wanted to cover your own back, keep anyone from believing in the slightest possibility of your curse being real.”

Regina shook her head, lips curling in distaste. “Look at what happened the moment the curse broke, how people changed, how this world’s rules no longer mattered.” She shook her head, “Our world was brutal, Miss Swan. People were executed without trial and sometimes without justification. You think you know who you’re dealing with because you read a few fairytales? These people are nothing like you think. They are brutes and they are murderers who only see black or white and never grey.”

“And that justifies tearing hundreds of people away from their homes? Splitting families up? Ruling the town with an iron fist?”

“Why don’t you speak with Ruby, ask her if she’s missed losing control of her body each time the full moon rises.. Ask the drunks and vagrants with no job and nowhere to live if they’d rather be in the Enchanted Forest.” Regina stared Emma down, waiting for her to interject. “We didn’t come from a land of magic and wonder, Miss Swan. Don’t think there aren’t some who wouldn’t thank me for bringing them over to this world where circumstances changed and no one was left without.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“Perhaps not,” Regina bit back, spine straightening. “But I would make it again and again if it meant I got to have my son. And I will not allow you to take him from me. He is not yours to take. You made that decision in your prison cell, remember.”

Emma’s expression went stony. “And whose fault was that, huh?” She stepped closer to the furious mayor, the air between them almost alight with the energy transferring between them.

The hat twitched on the floor, unwitnessed by either.

“I never would have been in this world if it weren’t for you.”

Regina laughed bitterly. “No,” she shook her head, letting her eyes move down Emma’s body and back up as she stepped even closer, staring the other woman down. “No, I expect you’d have been married off by now to whoever suited the Kingdom’s needs best.

Emma frowned in disbelief, “They would never-“

“Oh they would,” Regina laughed bitterly. “If not by your father then certainly by your mother. You come from a lineage of royals who hold no quarrel with trading their offspring to make strategic alliances. Nor are they particularly averse to forcing unwilling young girls into a marriage with a man three times her age but that is neither here nor there.”

“I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth,” Emma bit back. It was a lie, Regina was telling the truth, she could tell. But she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction right now. “You’d say anything to cover your own back.”

“Do not start with me, Miss Swan.” That familiar feeling was tickling at her skin once more, her fingers almost sparking with the magical energy waiting to be released. She could feel it shooting out from her like it was a bolt of lightning and she was the oncoming tornado.

The hat twitched again, almost completing a full turn unnoticed.

Emma’s own unexplored magic was reacting to Regina’s, meeting it in the air, becoming entwined as it hit the closest surface to it. “Or what?”

”You think a dragon was a challenge? Believe me, you have no idea what I am capable of.”

“And you, Madam Mayor,” Emma returned through gritted teeth, “have no idea what I am capable of.”

Regina lifted a hand out of pure instinctual memory, her fingers curling in toward her palm as she watched Emma instantly begin to claw at her own neck, eyes widening. This was what she wanted, this was the fear she so desired.

But a moment later, the moment Emma’s hands curled around the sides of her own neck, fingers coming into contact with her pale skin, Regina hissed in pain as a white hot fire shot through her veins as though her own magic was backfiring on her. But that wasn’t it. She could tell by the foreign feel of it entering her system.

This was Emma’s magic attacking her right back.

But it wasn’t an attack. Regina could see that by the look in her opponent’s eyes, the look of confusion as she let go of her neck, able to breathe again now that Regina had withdrawn her spell.

Emma’s though, that hadn’t retreated with the removal of her hands from her skin. Regina was still burning, her blood on fire inside her as she struggled to remain upright.

Regina was unable to stop a small shriek from escaping her as she dropped down onto a knee. It thudded painfully against the floor though it was nothing compared to the feel of the Savior’s magic moving through her.

“I don’t know how to stop it,” Emma stepped closer to Regina, her hands raised towards her as though it would help her figure out what to do.

With her remaining strength, the brunette managed to send out her own pulse of magic in the desperate hope that it would break the connection. It was at that same moment that a rather panicked Emma had the same thought and tried to send out her own pulse.

The magic met in between them, combusting spectacularly and throwing both women back from each other as it expanded throughout the room. In mere seconds, it had reached the hat and sent it spinning wildly where it sat.

The portal was reopening.

“Shit!” Emma exclaimed, glad she’d been thrown back towards the wooden rail that usually marked the divide between speakers and audience at meetings. As a dangerous wind began to pick up speed, she reached over her head and hooked her arms around two of the wooden slats, hoping to god it was strong enough to hold her weight.

Regina, on the other hand, was not so lucky.

She’d been thrown, hard, against the back wall, her head slamming against it as her vision swam. She’d barely managed to cry out in pain when she felt herself being dragged back towards the centre of the room. Towards the open portal, towards the hat.

“No!” she screamed, trying to turn onto her front and grip at something, anything to keep her from being pulled in. She wouldn’t go back there. She couldn’t.

The floor was smooth beneath her hands, there was nothing for her to grab.

She turned onto her back once more and tried to dig her heels in to keep from moving any further but the strength of the hats pull was too strong. She was flipped onto her front again, her head closer to the hat rather than her feet as she caught Emma’s eye through the swirling vortex between them.

The Savior was watching as she clung to safety, her face unreadable with the distance between them.

“Please,” Regina cried, inches away from the portal now. She was crying, her whole body quivering with terror at the thought of her old world. Of the people left behind who would be waiting for her. Of the memories she’d worked so hard to bury. “Please, Emma.”

Their eyes locked for only a moment more before the wind picked up even higher and Regina was dragged into the swirling darkness and swallowed whole by it.

Emma’s grip tightened on the rail, this was for the best wasn’t it? Henry would be safe, the whole town would be safe. They could live freely without the threat of the Evil Queen?

But she’d caught the terror in Regina’s eyes. For the first time in the whole year Emma had known her, aside from the day they’d thought they’d lost Henry in the mine, Regina had looked absolutely petrified. And she’d called her name.

Not Savior, not ‘Miss Swan’. Emma…

So, despite her better instincts, she let go.

——

“Woah!” Henry breathes from the back, shifting in his seat to get closer to the window and take in the sheer size of her father’s estate as they grow closer, “Is this where we’re staying? How have you never mentioned this place before!? It’s enormous!” 

Guilt churns in her stomach as it always does when she thinks of the parts of her that her son has missed out on - her father especially. “This place holds a few bad memories for me, Henry,” she replies honestly as she pulls in slowly and turns the engine off, taking a deep breath as she looks up at the mansion, “it’s not somewhere I like to think about a lot.” 

“Why not?” 

Flashes of her childhood fill her mind for a moment, forcing her eyes shut as she swallows thickly and reminds herself to breathe. She doesn’t get a chance to think, to answer, before there’s a knock at her window and she just manages not to hiss out an expletive in front of her son. 

“Aunty Em!” he cries from the back seat, scrambling to get his door open to greet his godmother on the sidewalk, “I didn’t know that this was where you lived!” 

“Hey, kid,” Emma greets warmly as she takes Henry into her arms and gives him a good squeeze, “only the best people come from this little town, just ask your Mom.”

Regina takes a moment to gather herself as the two continue chatting excitedly outside the car. She hadn’t told her friend exactly why she was coming to town - the revelation that Regina was going to be stepping foot in Storybrooke was enough of a shock for one phone call - before she gathers her nerve and takes the keys from the ignition. 

“How was the journey?” Emma asks, detangling herself from Henry for a moment to give Regina a quick squeeze when she climbs out of the car and shuts the door - it lingers longer than usual, she knows something is up Regina thinks to herself - before she’s slinging an arm around her godson’s shoulders and smiling a little too softly at Regina - she definitely knows that something’s up. 

“Tiring.” 

The blonde nods sympathetically, she’s made the ride over to Boston enough times to know just how tiring it is, before she replies, “I didn’t get a chance to grab groceries for you after my shift last night so how about we take this one for his first hot chocolate at Granny’s and we get some caffeine in mama bear?”

”It was short notice,” Regina waves her off, “I wasn’t expecting you to.” 

“Hot chocolate?” Henry grins up at Emma as she nods down at him, “with cinnamon?” 

“Well, duh!” 

He chuckles, rolling his eyes at her before he looks to Regina and asks, “Can we, Mom?” 

“We can go over to the store afterwards, get you guys all set up here for however long you need?” 

Regina sighs - imperceptibly she hopes as it’s not Emma’s fault she’d given barely any warning about their arrival in town - before she nods tiredly, already mentally preparing for the questions her friend is no doubt already forming in her inquisitive little mind. “But you’re driving,” she adds, “and not in that death trap you call a car.” 

“My bug is awesome,” Emma feigns offence before grinning, “but I won’t say no to driving your precious Merc.” 

Regina’s eyes roll as she hands over the keys, already feeling a little better just being close to Emma, close to her own people. 

——

“That absolute prick!”

“Emma!” Regina hisses, throwing a cursory glance over to the counter where Henry is chatting animatedly with Eugenia, the owner of Granny’s Diner, about the extensive flavours of ice cream she stocks. He’s no doubt already planning on making his way through the list while they’re in town.

“He doesn’t know?” 

“Not yet,” she replies, eyes returning to the ceramic of her coffee cup as she picks at the paper coaster on the table top. “I’ve already promised to tell him but it’s still too raw,” she looks up to find Emma’s anger replaced by sympathy - not pity, thank god - “I still can’t quite wrap my own head around it so how the hell am I supposed to help him to?” 

“You’ll get there, it’s going to take time but you will,” Emma frowns as she places a hand atop Regina’s on the table and gives it a gentle squeeze as she continues, “you’re one of the strongest people that I know. You’ve survived far worse than this.” 

She shakes her head tiredly, feeling her eyes sting with tears when Emma places a hand over the back of hers and curls her fingers around Regina’s. She grips back, hard. “They all knew. They all knew and they lied for him.” 

“Assholes.” 

She nods because that’s exactly what they were. 

“It’s disgusting, keeping that kind of thing a secret. Not only from you but from Henry too.” Emma rubs a thumb over the back of Regina’s hand, tilting her head and frowning sympathetically when Regina dabs a tissue under her eyes with her free hand, trying desperately not to break down when Henry is only feet away. “Do any of them know you know?” 

Regina shakes her head. “I put the phone back where I found it, I didn’t leave a note.” She looks over to where Henry is still talking animatedly with Eugenia. “He’ll be back from his trip this afternoon, I can’t imagine it’ll take him too long to realise most of my things and all of Henry’s things are gone.” 

“Are you going to talk to him when he calls? Tell him what you know?” 

She sighs heavily, dropping her eyes back to the table between them as Emma relinquishes her hold on her hand. “I don’t want to…but it’s the responsible thing to do.” 

“Fuck responsible,” Emma grunts, sitting back in her chair with a frown. “He wasn’t thinking about his responsibilities while he was off doing what he’s been doing for god knows how long, was he?” 

It’s rhetorical but she shakes her head still as her chin quivers. 

“You don’t deserve any of this Regina, neither of you do. And I don’t want him weaseling his way out of this with his bullshit.” 

“I just need some time to get my head together. To decide what the hell I’m going to do.” 

Emma’s frown morphs from anger to concern quickly as she asks, “You don’t mean-“ 

“No,” Regina answers before she even has to ask, “our marriage is over. It has been ever since he decided to betray Henry and I. It’s just taken me a little longer to catch up.” 

“Then what do you mean?” 

“I mean,” she replies steadily, “I need to decide on our next move. School’s out for the next couple of weeks so that gives me time to sort that out but…is this where I want to raise my son?” 

Emma’s head tilts in question. 

“Look, I know I have you here,” it’s Regina who covers Emma’s hand then, squeezing affectionately, “and a few other of the old faces but, there are also a lot of old, bad memories here too.” 

“I get that,” Emma responds honestly. She’s been here for most of them, she knows what Regina is talking about, how this town almost broke her. “And I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do. But for now, you’ve got your father’s place and, like you said, Henry doesn’t have to be in school for at least a fortnight…so take some time out to think. Don’t focus on the ‘what if’s or the endless scenarios that are flashing through that over-worked brain of yours.” 

That earns her a laugh, she knows Regina far too well. 

“Just let yourself be present in the every day. See how it feels to live here again without the worry of your past. Things are different now. Give yourself the time to see that for yourself and, if at the end of it, you still want to leave and start again somewhere new…I’ll support that.” 

Her throat tightens as a wave of emotion washes over her. Bittersweet memories in a town she’d once adored tainted by a mother who’d never loved anything, let alone Regina. She pushes past it - barely - with a cough to clear her throat and a nod to agree with Emma. She’ll give Storybrooke a chance again. And then, because she’s sick of talking about it, she says “tell me what’s been happening with you. You mentioned you were looking for a deputy last time we spoke on the phone?”

“And I found one,” Emma’s expression lifts as she sits back in her seat once more, “he’s called Robin, only been in town a couple of months but everyone loves him. He’s from England originally but he moved to the States with his wife and ‘set up camp’ as he likes to say. His son is absolutely adorable, a real character.” 

“And you get on okay with him?” 

“Oh, absolutely!” Emma replies without hesitation, “he’s a good guy, funny too. He’d give you a run for your money.” 

Regina chuckles, rolling her eyes at Emma’s teasing words before she allows her gaze to drift back over to Henry. Guilt instantly churns in her gut. She shouldn’t be sitting over here joking and pretending she hasn’t ripped their lives apart - well, technically it’s Daniel who has ripped their lives apart but she’s the one who decided to leave without word of where they were going - add to that the anxiety she has over the questions she knows Henry’s bound to ask about the grandparents she's barely ever mentioned before and this idea isn't sounding as good as it had late last night. 

“We’ll figure it out, Regina.” Emma insists. 

Gratitude swells at her friend’s promise, specifically Emma’s ‘we’ because here, unlike in Boston, she is no longer alone. “I know,” she replies after a moment and, for the first time in a couple of days, she actually believes it.

——

Emma had asked if she wanted Henry taken off her hands for a few hours, had offered to take him back to the station with her for her afternoon shift to allow Regina some time to herself but she’d declined. 

She wanted him close. 

“Tomorrow though,” she’d said. “If you could take him in the morning, that’d give me some time to…feel things out.” 

They’d agreed that she’d pick him up from the mansion and then she and Henry had taken themselves off to the grocery store to stock up her family home. 

That was where they were now, Regina pushing the shopping cart down the seemingly never ending aisles and Henry picking out the things she asks him to grab. It’s a chore they’ve shared many times over the years but there’s a quietness between them now. He wants to ask again, she can feel it. But she’s quite impressed at his current restraint. 

“How about we order a pizza tonight?” she suggests as they round the corner and start down another aisle. “I don’t feel like cooking and Marco’s delivers. We could grab some snacks for after and maybe you could pick a movie for us to watch?” 

Usually he’d jump at the suggestion, all childlike glee and excitement at the thought of indulging in things she doesn’t make a habit of. He’s still excited, still beaming as he turns to her and nods his agreement, but there’s an edge to it. One that has her stopping the cart altogether and placing a finger beneath his chin. 

“I will tell you what’s happened, Henry. I won’t keep you in the dark about any of this. But, for now, can you trust me when I say that I just need some time to get some things in order before we talk it through?” 

His eyes move between hers as he takes in her words, his smile slipping from his lips. He nods, tells her, “Okay, Mom.” And then, when her finger slips from beneath his chin and she turns to resume their meandering, he asks, “but just tell me he didn’t hurt you?” 

She blinks. She’s surprised by the question, by the inference beneath it and she’s reminded that he’s not quite a child anymore. He’s slowly crawling to pre-teen status and his innocence is starting to thin. “Your father has never laid a hand on me, Henry. I promise you that.” 

He nods, relief flickering in his eyes. “But he has hurt you?” 

“In a different way, yes.” 

He nods again and in that moment he looks so much older than he is. It breaks her heart to think of the days when he no longer relishes in the closeness he still shares with her. When it’ll be embarrassing to be seen with her and affection will remain behind closed doors in rare moments. “Do we live here now?” 

She sighs and they both decide this is a conversation best had on the move - that and the thought of getting back to the house to rest their weary bodies after last night’s journey was beginning to take precedence over deep conversations held in the cereal aisle of the store. “That remains to be seen.” She glances over at him. “Would you mind if we did though? If that was an option?” 

He shrugs. “I’d miss Dad…” 

“That won’t need to be an issue, Henry. I won’t ever stop you from seeing your father whenever you want to.” 

He nods. He knows this already. It isn’t in her nature to do anything that could upset him and keeping him from Daniel, despite all that he’s done, is one of those things. 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” she admits quietly. She doesn’t. Daniel isn’t even aware that she’s left yet, that she’s taken Henry and fled. She doesn’t know how he’ll react, what he’ll do. She’s not going to tell him that she’s come back to Storybrooke but he’s an intelligent man, he’ll know that this is the only place she can go at such short notice. “Some things between your father and me…they’re not easy to come back from.” 

It’s likely too mature of a conversation for him - he’s intelligent too, he gets that from Daniel she thinks but he’s still her child and the world that he knows is crumbling around him. But still, he nods. 

“I want to stay with you,” he says after a moment, not quite looking at her. “Whatever happens. I want to live with you. Not him.”

Her heart catches, “I’m glad,” she says, her voice gentle. “We’ll figure this all out together, okay?” 

He nods, still not looking at her, but he presses in closer, rests his head on her shoulder when she wraps an arm around him and continues pushing the shopping cart through the store. 

——

“That’s always been one of my worst fears, you know.” 

He looks over at her, pulling his attention from the drama unfolding before them on-screen with raised eyebrows as he asks, “Seriously?” She nods in the affirmative and he frowns then, smirking as he replies, “I thought it was drowning.” 

“Well, yeah,” she rolls her eyes as she shifts beside him, her foot pressing a little more against his thigh, “but how likely is that to happen when I barely go near the water. That though,” she nods towards the screen, towards the woman on her knees, sobbing as she clings to her cheating husband’s coat, asking him to stay even after his many indiscretions. “Being left alone like that after creating a whole life together...it’s a terrifying prospect.”

Daniel’s eyebrows raise once more as he considers her words and replies, “I guess so,” before that smirk is returning and he’s looking back to her. “It’s a good job that’s never going to happen though, isn’t it,” before he shifts up onto his knees on the sofa and angles towards her, pouncing on her with a playful growl and slotting easily between her thighs before he kisses her laughing mouth.

Regina wakes with a sharp intake of breath. Still in her father’s study - or, the den, as her mother had called it. Never one to allow her father any sense of ownership, even in his own home.

She’d unpacked the groceries when they’d arrived home. Had filled cupboards she hadn’t looked in for years. Cupboards she daren’t have looked in for too long for fear of reprimand from her mother. 

”You won’t always be this young, Regina. It’s best to build healthy habits sooner rather than later.” 

Cora would always hide it under the guise of care, of only wanting what was best for her daughter but Regina knew better. Her beauty was her currency, in Cora’s eyes. It was all she had to offer the world and the thought of her losing an ounce of that was a mortal sin where her mother was concerned. 

Her father was different though. He’d always find a way to sneak Regina some treats. He’d hide them away in his study, ready for when she’d inevitably find him in there in the evening. 

They’d split whatever he’d pilfered and would laugh together as they ate. 

She misses her father terribly. 

When she’d finished unpacking and had peered into the living room, Henry had been completely engrossed in his book and so she’d quickly - and quietly - padded her way to the den, ridiculously grateful that her father’s deep armchairs had remained. 

She’s always loved to sit in here, practically swallowed up by the sheer size of the chair. Her father would laugh and tease that she’d disappear into it altogether if she weren’t careful. She’d sunk back into the cushions, a feeling of nostalgia and grief washing over her as she allowed her thoughts to wander once again to the past. 

It was the only place her mother would leave them be - within what she believed was reason - and the only place Regina had been able to truly relax within her own home. 

She wishes he was here now, her Daddy. Wishes he could envelope her in those big bear hugs and tell her that there is nothing she can’t handle because, at the moment, she feels as though she’s on the brink of a breakdown. 

She’d known that she’d always been something of an outsider within Daniel’s group of friends. She was an addition to the ‘clique’ rather than the foundation. A face they never quite accepted but when she’d found that phone - secret, hidden away from sight in the dark recesses of the trunk of his car - and saw the photographs of them all together, taking little mini-breaks when she’d thought Daniel to be working, smiling widely as though the mere fact he had his arm around another woman, cuddling her into him was not so very wrong, she’d understood what she’d been missing all of these years. She was simply not one of them and never would be. 

And they’d told her, the women she’d thought were her friends, to stop being so paranoid. That Daniel would never do such a thing to her when she’d first voiced her suspicions. That he was a good man and that she and Henry were his absolute world. 

And not only that, they’d covered for him. Distracting her where needed, making excuses for every strand of red hair she’d discovered, for every time she’d acted on her suspicion and followed him. She’d been intercepted and manipulated every time. 

Bullshit. All of it was complete bullshit and she’d allowed them to get into her head for the longest time before she’d finally trusted her gut and found the truth. 

She felt like a complete fool. 

Her mother had been right when she’d told her not to chase after some idiotic dream of a life that couldn’t be. So very right.  

——

The study was too heavy with memory. 

Regina had lasted maybe twenty minutes after her nap — the first rest she’d managed in days — before the familiar shadows started to close in. Her father’s handwriting on old legal pads. His pipe still on the windowsill, untouched since the funeral. A photograph of the two of them, taken when she was just fifteen, leaning against the side of a horse he’d insisted she name herself.

She couldn’t stay in there.

By the time Henry finds her, she’s moved into the kitchen. The windows are wide open to the garden, and she’s at the counter peeling apples, piling them into a chipped ceramic bowl. He climbs onto one of the stools at the island, resting his chin in his hand like he’s done since he was small.

“What are you doing?” he asks, kicking his heels gently.

“Thinking about making a crumble,” she says. “Unless you want cake.”

He shrugs. “Cake’s good.”

Regina reaches for the flour. “You can help. Measure the sugar.”

They bake together in quiet companionship. Not much talking — just the comfort of movement, the shared rhythm of two people used to each other. By the time the cake is in the oven and the scent of cinnamon and butter starts to fill the room, Henry has settled across the floor with his sketchbook, idly drawing something she can’t quite see.

She’s wiping down the counter when he speaks again.

“Do you think Emma would want to come over later?”

She turns toward him. “For what?”

“Pizza, maybe?” he said. “I don’t know. I just thought… she’s probably not doing anything.”

Regina blinks. For a moment she’s still, hands paused mid-wipe. And then a small, real smile creeps across her face — the first in hours. Maybe longer.

“Did you want her to come over?”

Henry shrugs again, a little bashful. “She’s fun. And it might be nice. Just us.”

It does sound nice. Familiar. Safe. And they’ve always been close, Henry and Emma, ever since he was a small child. She’s the perfect mix of immature and serious when needed. 

And, truthfully, Regina hadn’t realised how much she missed Emma’s presence — the calm steadiness, the way she never made her explain too much, never pushed. She had this strange ability to make everything feel less chaotic just by being in the room.

“All right,” Regina says, reaching for her phone. “I’ll ask her.”

——

When Emma arrives they order from Marco’s — thin crust, extra mushrooms, no olives. Henry sets up the living room like it’s a cinema premiere, dragging pillows from the guest room and pouring too much soda into tall mismatched glasses. When Emma arrives, she kicks off her boots at the door like she belongs there, tosses her jacket over the back of the couch, and sinks to the floor with Henry like they’ve done this a hundred times before.

They watch The Princess Bride — Henry’s choice, obviously — and for a little while, the house feels warm again. Familiar. Almost like it used to, when her mother had gone out of town and Saturday nights meant takeout and a movie and Regina didn’t have to second-guess every single thing she said or did.

She doesn’t notice the first text until the scene where Inigo finally meets the six-fingered man. Her phone’s been buried under napkins on the side table, next to the empty pizza box and a half-eaten crust no one’s claimed. When she picks it up, the screen lights up with a list of messages, each one more pressing than the last.

4:42 p.m.

Hey, just landed. Are you still out with Henry? Thought we could do dinner.

4:10 p.m.

You guys at home? Car’s not here.

4:27 p.m.

Babe?

4:45 p.m.

You take Henry somewhere? Thought you were staying local today.

5:01 p.m.

Please tell me you’re okay. Just let me know where you are.

A missed call. Then another. The third comes in while she’s still holding the phone, screen glowing in her palm. She doesn’t answer.

Emma glances over. “You okay?” she asks, voice low, not looking away from the movie.

Regina doesn’t respond at first. Her gaze drifts from the phone to Henry — now sprawled across the rug, limbs tangled in blankets, laughing through a mouthful of cold pizza — and then to Emma, who’s leaning back on one elbow, utterly relaxed, like this is the most natural thing in the world.

“I will be,” Regina says quietly. She flips the phone over, face down on the table.

And she lets it ring.

——

The house is quiet again once Emma leaves. Henry had fallen asleep midway through the credits, curled into the crook of the couch with a blanket half over him and a smudge of chocolate on his chin. Regina had woke him gently and asked if he’d wanted to get an early night, helping to guide him up the stairs when he’d nodded with tired eyes. Now the silence settles heavy around her, humming with everything unspoken.

She stands at the kitchen sink, rinsing plates that don’t really need rinsing. The phone buzzes again on the counter beside her. His name lights up the screen: Daniel. This time, she answers.

“Hello.”

He exhales on the other end — sharp, anxious. “Jesus, Regina. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours. Why aren’t you at the house? Where are you?”

Regina dries her hands on a tea towel, steadying her voice. “I’m with Henry.”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” he says. “All your stuff’s gone. The wardrobe. Your shoes. Henry’s backpack. Did something happen?”

She sits down at the table, letting the weight of the day press into her spine. Her voice stays calm, almost too calm. “Nothing happened. Not today.”

A pause.

Then, more urgent: “Regina, if I’ve done something—”

“You have,” she says, quietly.

He falls silent.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.” Her fingers trace the edge of the table. “I need time. We both do. So please stop calling.”

“You’re scaring me,” he says. “Just—please don’t do anything rash. We can talk, babe. We can figure this out.”

“You should have thought about that before,” she murmurs.

A beat. Then she adds, “Henry and I are safe. That’s all you need to know right now.”

“So you’re just… disappearing?”

“I’m not disappearing.” She glances toward the hallway, listens for any sign of movement upstairs. Nothing. “I’m choosing space. For my sake. For his.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not telling you.”

Silence stretches between them.

When he finally speaks, his voice is tight. “So that’s it?”

“For now.”

She ends the call before he can say anything else.

E