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Softness. A beam of light. A muffled voice.“Emma,” Henry whispers, “Emma, are you awake? My mom took Roland to the park-”Emma stirs at the mention of her son. The guest bed is excruciatingly comfortable, the mattress firm but oh so soft. Squinting, Emma discovers that in the daytime, the guest bedroom gets lit up from the bright sun that shines through the cracks on either side of the blinds, the silk curtains doing little to mitigate the effect.Henry stands at the door, peeking in. Emma waves half-heartedly, wanting to sleep longer. The door opens wider and he comes in, already dressed for the day, hands twined in his red and grey scarf nervously.“What happened last night, when you talked to my mom? How did she convince you to take her side?”“Kid, she’s your mom,” Emma says, as if that answers the question – which in her mind, it does. Henry doesn’t seem to agree.“She’s evil,” he insists, “and she manipulates people. She took Roland.”“I said it was fine,” Emma replies, even though the park was not mentioned in their conversation. Also, you seem to be projecting, kid. “Did he have breakfast?”“Eggs on toast,” Henry tells her.“Good,” Emma mutters. Sighing inwardly, she pushes back her covers and makes a shooing motion at the ten year old. “What time is it? I need to get dressed.”“It’s lunchtime, soon. Mom told me to wake you up at twelve. She’s going to get groceries with Roland after going to the park. I wanted to follow her to make sure she wasn’t going to do anything, but I figured you might panic if no-one was here.”“You’re right about that,” Emma agrees, “and you’re good for staying, because following them really isn’t necessary. I’m sure they’re just going for a long walk. Ro goes for one every morning.”Henry’s brow furrows. “I thought he was making that up.”“We go to our local park every morning – even in Boston,” Emma says, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “When’s your mom supposed to be back?”“Half past twelve. Lunch is at one,” Henry says. “I’m supposed to be in school, but she kept me home. She stayed off work today, too.”That isn’t surprising, Emma thinks, considering he ran off. Regina’s probably feeling clingy.“Okay. We can wait for them to get back, help with lunch or something. I’m going to get dressed.”“Okay.”Henry leaves and Emma sits on the bed for a little longer, waking up. She needs something to drink – coffee, maybe. Regina seems like the type, though if she has decaf instead, Emma wouldn’t protest. Since her pregnancy with Roland, Emma hasn’t drunk much caffeinated stuff, which was a choice she made knowingly – she and Roland eat pretty healthy usually, though pasta and bakery products are a weak spot they both share.Emma gets dressed. She pulls on yesterday’s jeans, a new, plain white t-shirt and socks, zipping up her boots and leaving off putting on her jacket – it’s not like they’re going out. Emma wonders what Roland’s wearing. She remembers what kind of stuff she put in his suitcase last week and Kira always has Roland’s things laundered before repacking for home, so everything’s clean. It’s an odd feeling, to know that Bobbie’s mother – Henry’s mother – has been caring for her second son the entire morning.She was up as late as me, Emma then realises. Has she slept at all?Making her way downstairs, Emma greets Henry again in the entrance to the living room, where they sit and turn on the TV – but they don’t watch it, Henry too busy interrogating her about her life in Boston.“What was your job?”“I worked to catch criminals,” she answers.“You’re a police-woman?” Henry’s eyes widen.“No, a bail-bondsperson,” Emma corrects, explaining. “I find people who have outstanding fines or jumped bail. A bounty hunter, sort of – but I actually quit yesterday after my last mark got caught.”“Cool! What are you going to do now? Why were you living in Boston?”“Boston was a half-way point to New York,” Emma tells him, surprised at his enthusiasm. Taking a moment to turn off the TV, Emma tells him. “I used to live in Tallahassee, Florida. I met Robin there and it’s where we lived and got married and everything. Roland was born there.”“Where was I born?”“Phoenix, Arizona,” Emma says.“Why?”Emma hesitates. “It’s…complicated.”“Explain it to me,” Henry begs, so eager and bright-eyed, not knowing how bad the situation really was for Emma.“I don’t want to talk about it, Henry,” Emma tries to let him down easy. “I can tell you more about other stuff, if you like.”“What about my dad? You said his name was Robin, right?” Henry calms a little, then, absorbing the name and Emma…Emma doesn’t want him to find out she lied, later. Regina last night hadn’t disagreed with her deception when she told her – she would back her up, maybe. Emma doesn’t want Henry to know about Neal.So…so she lies anyway, because it’s better than the truth. “Robin Locksley,” Emma says, “or rather, Roland Senior. He was the eleventh Roland Locksley.”“Wow – and Roland is the twelfth?” Henry asks, getting a nod. He grins. “That’s so cool! I’m Henry, after my granddad. He died before the Curse was cast, so he’s not here. There’s an empty crypt in the cemetery.”“How do you know it’s empty?” Emma asks, suddenly wary. Is this kid a graverobber, too?Henry shrugs. “I don’t. I just know he’s not here – no-one ever dies, here. No-one’s ever born, either. Ashley at Granny’s Diner’s been pregnant forever.”“I’m sure it seems like that,” Emma replies, having seen no evidence that the town is cursed so far. Even if Henry has a storybook full of stories from the Enchanted Forest…that’s no indication that there’s a curse. Henry could just be projecting. Shifting on the sofa, Emma inclines her head. “Who am I, anyway? If your mom is the Evil Queen from Snow White, then who am I? Wendy Darling?”Henry looks at her critically. “You’re the Saviour. This is your story and it isn’t finished, yet,” he says, before taking the Book out of his ever-present satchel, flipping through to the same picture he showed her last night. He points. “This is the Evil Queen and Snow White right before the Dark Curse is cast, but it starts earlier than that.”He flips back through the pages, showing her a rather in-depth history of the outlaw, Snow White, who took back her kingdom with the help of the seven dwarves, her husband Prince Charming, the Blue Fair and Red Riding Hood, her best friend.“Snow White had a daughter,” Henry eventually says, sneaking a peek at her as he shows her a picture of a baby in a familiar white blanket – a white blanket with purple ribbon. Emma’s heart thuds painfully in her chest. “They sent her away in a magic wardrobe, built by Gepetto, to the land where they’d be cursed to when the Dark Curse came. In twenty-eight years, she’d come back and save them all. The baby is you, Emma. You’re the Saviour.”“Snow White and Prince Charming – your mom’s nemesis?” Emma asks, getting a staunch nod from the boy. “And it just so happens that she adopted you, my son?”“How else were you going to get here?” Henry asks her rhetorically. “Mom and I are the only ones who can leave town without consequences. Everyone else is trapped. It’s magic, Emma.”Emma grits her teeth. The only magic she’s ever seen took her husband from her. “I don’t like it,” she says lowly. “And you’ve still not proven it to me. Telling does nothing. I need proof, Henry, before I do anything – anything at all. I don’t even know what I’d do if it was all real.”Henry opens his mouth to reply, but the front door opens and they’re both distracted. Emma turns her head, hearing them before she sees them.“Take off your shoes,” she hears Regina say.“Okay,” Roland replies and Emma hears a quiet whump noise that is probably Roland dropping onto his little behind to take off his shoes. Henry clambers off the sofa, heading in their direction, so Emma follows, lip twitching at the sight of Roland lining up his shoes beside Henry and Regina’s, brow furrowed like Robin’s used to in concentration.“Hey, spourgíti,” Emma attracts his attention, Roland quick to get to his feet, running to her open arms. She lifts him up, pressing kisses to his face and speaking in Greek to him. “Did you have fun with Regina, baby?”“We went for a walk around a- around, around a pond!” Roland says, briefly stammering, his words coming out slowly but exuberantly. Henry’s eyes widen beside her, looking shocked at their use of another language. “There were ducks and a dog with black spots!”Regina clears her throat. Emma goes to say thank-you to her, for taking out Roland – but then she surprises her, speaking to her in clear, practiced Greek.“It’s rude to speak in another language when not everyone speaks it,” she says.Emma blinks at her. “Sorry,” she says, returning to English. “His dad spoke it. I was just asking him about his day. Gotta keep his fluency up.”“I understand,” Regina’s gaze flickers to Henry, “We speak Española, don’t we, cariño?”Henry narrows his eyes at her, crossing his arms – but nods. “Yes,” he says curtly.“Elliniká!” Roland exclaims, before Emma puts him down again. “Can we have lunch, please?”“Yes,” Regina answers, pulling off her black leather gloves, tucking them into her jacket pocket before taking that off, too. Emma watches her hang her coat up as she speaks, “Henry, could you take the groceries to the kitchen, please?”Henry darts forwards, picking up the two plastic bags and hauling them to the kitchen, Roland following him wordlessly.“Roland behaved very well,” Regina tells her. “We usually have dessert after dinner on Fridays and weekends, though Henry is currently grounded, so he won’t be having any – but I planned on allowing Roland some for his good manners, if that was acceptable.”“Sounds great – did he react okay to you looking after him?” Emma asks, Regina stepping closer. “I mean, he was a little tired last night.”“I think waking up beside you made it clear to him this home was safe,” Regina says, eyeing her. “And therefore, me. His disposition reminds me of Henry, before…”“Really?” Emma asks, musing wistfully that maybe she was like that too, before the system ruined her. “Nurture versus nature, I suppose. Henry…” Emma swallows, “He reminds me of his dad, actually. They smile the same.”Regina hums, glancing towards the kitchen. “Not a happy memory, I see.”“They were, once, but I was looking through rose-coloured lenses. Henry’s charming.” Neal was charming.A sharp look. Greek escapes her mouth and it’s genius, in a twisting, hysterical way. “From what little amount of information you have given me, I do not appreciate you comparing my son to that man. Do not do it again.”“Henry’s tried to manipulate the both of us. It worries me. I nearly thought he had gone around opening up Henry Senior’s crypt earlier,” Emma replies, catching Regina off-guard.“Excuse me?”“We were talking about how Roland’s named after his dad and Henry told me he was named after his grandfather – but then we got side-tracked, because he said your dad died before a curse was cast and that his grandfather’s body wasn’t in the crypt.”Regina blanches, looking shaken by her words. “He said that? His grandfather’s body wasn’t in the crypt?”“He guessed,” Emma corrects, before deciding to outright ask her. Henry said the residents didn’t remember – what if that included the caster? If it didn’t and she lied, Emma would know. It takes her a second, though, translating it right in her head. “Regina,” she starts, “Henry believes you’re the Evil Queen from the Enchanted Forest. He says you cast the Dark Curse and that you and him are the only two people who can leave the town.”“I beg your pardon?” Regina stares at her, slipping back into English as she lets out a laugh. “Where is he getting those ideas from?”Emma smiles thinly. Her radar is buzzing, waiting to catch her out in a lie. “Same place that says I’m a prophesised Saviour meant to break the curse. It’s funny, actually – in the picture of Snow White’s baby there’s this blanket that looks just like mine, even has the same name on it. ‘Emma’,” she describes, watching Regina slowly lose her smile. “Crazy, right?”“Yes. Crazy,” Regina states and she was so close.“Well, Your Majesty,” Emma jokes, smiling wide as she jerks her head towards the kitchen. “What’s for lunch? Can I help out any?”Regina shakes off her stiff demeanour, giving Emma a measured smile. “Yes, of course. Follow me.”And Emma follows the Evil Queen into her kitchen.
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“Well, maybe this is your chance to change things up a bit,” Annabel offers, voice crackling over the line. “If Henry’s so adamant that he wants you in his life, there’s not much she can do without upsetting him.”“But I don’t want to interfere in his life,” Emma sighs.“He’s kind of dragged you into it already, sweetheart.”Dipping a fry into her milkshake, Emma ponders her situation. She’s staying in the same house as her firstborn with his mother, who’s a dark sorceress that cursed a small population into unhappy, mediocre existences. To top it off, Roland is bedazzled by said dark sorceress and would probably be asking to see Henry and Henry’s mother for weeks, if not months to come.“We’re leaving Sunday,” Emma tells her friend, shifting her phone to her other year as she sees Roland having trouble with his chicken nuggets. Cutting them up with one hand, she continues to speak to Annabel. “Regina’s going to be on the lookout for when Henry tries to escape again. Apparently it’s a given, now. He’s a little shit like that.”“He sounds like you,” Annabel says and the truth hits home.“I know,” Emma mumbles, before Roland discards his fork and starts eating with his hands. “Spourgíti, no. Use your cutlery.”Roland grumbles, but picks up his fork, stabbing one viciously and bringing it to his mouth.“How is Ro-Ro? Does he like Henry?”“Loves him,” Emma replies, “Follows him around like a duck.”“We’ve got to expand the bird metaphors for this boy,” Annabel jokes. “It’s Robin’s fault.”“Dude, he was asking for Roland to be picked on when he gave himself that nickname,” Emma replies with a curl to her lip.“Seriously, though, we should give him more bird-related nicknames.” Annabel insists, before exclaiming, “Oh my god, can we call him ‘duckling’? I love ducks! And- and ‘peristéri’ and ‘geráki’?”“What do those even mean?” Emma asks with a small laugh.“Pigeon and hawk,” Annabel says in a satisfactory manner. “I have thought a lot about this.”“I am not calling my son a pigeon,” she replies, glancing down at him. “Ro, guess what Auntie Annabel is trying to convince me to call you?”“What?” Roland asks, looking up from his nuggets and peas.Emma pauses dramatically. “A pigeon!”Roland lets out a shrieking cackle that attracts attention from the surrounding patrons in the diner. “I’m not a pigeon! I’m a spourgíti!”“Yes, you’re a sparrow, aren’t you? You’re not a silly pigeon,” Emma tickles him lightly, using the new word Annabel had provided her. “Are you a pigeon, little sparrow? Are you a silly little pigeon?”“No, no, I’m a sparrow! Not a pigeon,” Roland grins, using the new word he’d correctly identified as Greek for ‘pigeon’ before going back to eating his nuggets.Annabel huffs. “Ruin my fun, why don’t you?”“It’s my favourite thing to do,” Emma jokes, sipping her milkshake.“I’ll take my vengeance,” Annabel threatens.“Try me,” Emma goads, before Henry returns from the bathroom, slipping into the booth and looking longingly at Emma’s milkshake. Glancing off to where Regina is talking furiously with Mary-Margaret Blanchard, from whom Harry had stolen a credit card and been given his storybook, Emma sneakily nudges her plastic dish of fries closer to him. He gleefully snags a small handful, putting all of them in his mouth and chewing furiously, hiding his face behind his hands.“I will – watch your bank account inflate with my vengeance, Emma Swan.”Emma nearly chokes on her fries. “Annabel! No, don’t do that-”“Too late. I’ve decided,” Annabel says glee. “I love throwing money at my problems. Be a dear and buy Roland a gift from me? Call it an early birthday present. Though I’ve already bought him that, he can have another one.”Emma groans, putting a hand to her head. “Stop. Please.”“Never,” Annabel promises with glee. “I’m your only friend, apart from Jacob. It’s my duty. Now, give the phone to my godson.”“I hate you,” Emma grumbles.“Love you, too, Ems.”Emma grumbles a little more before giving Roland the phone. “Auntie Annabel wants to talk to you.”“Annabel!” Roland exclaims gleefully, taking her cell with two hands and pressing it to his ear. Henry watches on in interest.“Who’s Annabel?” he asks after swallowing his ginormous mouthful of fries.“My best friend. She and her husband are Roland’s godparents.”Henry looks morose. “I don’t have godparents.”“Maybe you don’t need them,” Emma offers him something of an answer. “We owe them a lot. They’ve been amazing, over the years. Roland’s really close to them both. He calls their parents his grandparents, seeing as I don’t have them.”Henry purses his lips. “But you do. Snow White and Prince Charming-”“Kid,” Emma interrupts with a sigh, not quite believing his tale – even if it is written in the Book. “Enough, okay. That discussion is tabled. We have other things to sort out.”“Like what?” Henry asks, perplexed.“Like,” Regina starts, coming up behind her, conversation finished, “how you won’t be taking advantage of Miss Blanchard again, regardless of her willingness to help you. Like how you won’t be running away again. Like how Emma has agreed with me that visiting her and asking her to come here with you, especially when she’s responsible for another child, was too far.”Regina sits at the booth, Henry cringing as he has to move further up the seat, trapped into the corner. Emma meets eyes with Regina, nodding, trying to show her support. Regina tilts her chin upwards though, sneering slightly before looking at Henry with dark eyes.“Henry,” she begins. “You’ll be seeing Doctor Hopper three times a week from now on. This isn’t punishment – this is necessary. Obviously you distrust me and Dr Hopper can be your confident, I hope.”Emma wonders who Dr Hopper is, though from the context, he sounds like some kind of shrink. Henry looks mulishly at the table.“Your computer will also be confiscated until further notice,” she continues in a clipped tone. Henry doesn’t react. “As will your comics.”He’s twitching, Emma notes. Comic fan, huh?“And,” Regina says, voice darkening, “you will stay in the house, from now on. You won’t be allowed to roam. I will drop you off and pick you up from Dr Hopper’s office and drive you to and from school every day. On weekends, you can go outside, but no further than the property line. Do you understand why I’m making these new rules, Henry?”“Because you’re evil,” he bites, glaring at her.“No,” she replies calmly, “because you’ve betrayed the trust people have placed in you. Me, for one – Miss Blanchard, for another. You’ve schemed and manipulated people who don’t deserve it. Emma is one of those people.”To Emma, Regina looks like she’s swallowing a lemon with how sour her face is, but her voice betrays none of it and Henry isn’t looking at her, anyway, glare glued to the table again.“How would you like to be dragged to the other end of the state with no warning?” Regina asks, “How would you like it if you were put under pressure to keep not one, but two people safe? Emma did a good thing bringing you back to me, even if you don’t believe it. I’m your mother and-”“You’re not my mom,” Henry interrupts, growling. “And I don’t want you!”“Hey,” Emma snaps, angry on Regina’s behalf. Regina puts up a hand to halt her, eyes locked on Henry.“You may feel that way, but I love you very much and your happiness is precious to me. It hurts me to see you acting like this.”“Good.”“I know the last year has been hard for you, but was it a surprise?” Regina asks, taking a different route than Emma thought she would. “I was never married, you know that. You asked about your father when you were little and I told you that you didn’t have one.”“But I do,” Henry starts, face twisting as he glances at Emma, looking to Regina with an eager face. “He’s called Robin and he’s not dead, just not here.”“You still don’t have him,” Regina says quietly. “You never had a father. You’ve been having trouble with being adopted. What is it that bothers you so much? Emma giving you away? Or is it really me? Me, your mother, who loves you and cares for you and always has.”Henry looks conflicted – but only for a moment. His shoulders straighten and he looks at Regina with cold-faced determination.“You’re the Evil Queen and you did bad things. You are my mom, but do I deserve to be your son?”Regina flinches back like Henry’s words were a physical blow. Emma’s eyes widen at his speech, but she’s a little surprised that Regina’s reaction is so obvious. The woman had lied about thinking the Dark Curse was crazy and while that’s no proof she remembers, this reaction certainly is.“I’m the Luke Skywalker to your Darth Vader,” Henry says, like the comparison matters. “You don’t have a chance of redemption, though.”“Redemp-” Regina starts, before abruptly pulling herself together. “Henry, enough. Even if any of that nonsense was true, I’ve been living here in this town since before you were even born and I haven’t done anything that could be construed as evil.”“That doesn’t matter – you still did the other stuff,” he argues, even as Emma stiffens at her lie.“And why doesn’t it matter?” Regina raises an eyebrow. “You’re saying that someone can’t have happiness after years of solace and peace. Forget about me and think about what you’re saying, Henry. It’s cruel and thoughtless – evil.”“I’m not evil,” Henry says hotly. “You’re trying to manipulate me.”“For your own good. Parents do that, for their children. It’s part of growing up,” Regina replies and Emma thinks, not a good part, though. Emma knows manipulative parents and while what Regina is doing now is probably a good thing in the long run to get Henry to see the havoc he’s causing, she knows it can get out of hand. Henry isn’t an adult, he’s a child.Then there’s the fact that Regina lied about not having done evil during her time in Storybrooke. Emma tries not to wonder about it and instead tries to solve her current problems.“Like when parents want kids to eat their vegetables,” she interjects, trying to get Henry to see her machinations in a more positive light.Henry gives her a dirty look, though. “This isn’t about vegetables,” he says scornfully, sounding just like Regina, “this is about the Curse. She’s evil and you’re enabling her!”“An interesting choice in words,” Regina says flatly. “Why would you say that?”“Because she’s the Saviour!” Henry bursts out, “She already told you! I heard!”“Ah, the eavesdropping,” Regina sighs in a faux-tired manner. She’s really at the end of her tether, here, Emma realises. “I suppose it’s another thing for you to talk about with Dr Hopper.”“It’s for a good cause!”“Good intentions pave the road to hell,” Emma says quietly. Henry stops suddenly, looking at her. It takes a second for her to realise how her words might impact him, what with the previous conversation. “It means that people who do bad things for good reasons end up bad themselves. Regina’s trying to help you, Henry.”Emma glances at Regina, expecting her to speak – expecting her to tell her without words to be quiet, to let her handle it. But Regina is looking at her with a kind of weary acceptance. Her head jerks minutely and Emma glances back at Henry, who is watching her intently, quiet.Oh fuck, it’s on me, she realises. Clearing her throat, Emma tries to think of what to say to make him see clearly.“You think your mom is evil. Okay, then. Let’s say she is. What is she doing right now?” she sees Henry go to answer, expression vehement and puts up a hand, stopping him. “No, don’t speak. Listen to me. Your mom is trying to stop you going down a road she desperately does not want you going down. Maybe…maybe it’s one she went down herself,” Emma glances at Regina and she’s hit the nail on the head, she thinks. Regina’s expression says it all, her eyes dark as she leans back in the booth, watching Emma silently.“She’s evil,” Henry says.“Fine. She’s evil. Evil people can still do good things. It’s called being an anti-villain. Their goal is good, but the way they get there isn’t. Does that make sense to you?”Henry grips his scarf nervously, glancing at his mother. “But what about the Curse? How is that good?”“It’s good for her and kid, the world isn’t black and white,” Emma tells him. “You really think Snow White is all good? No-one is pure, Henry. We all have our dark sides. Now, I don’t know why or how this Dark Curse is cast, but I want you to get on with your mom. I gave you up to give you a better chance, because I knew it wasn’t with me. You were happy before reading about all this in your storybook. What changed?”“Your perception of me,” Regina answers, speaking to Henry. She’s less authoritative than before, looking at Henry with a blank expression. “I’m still the same person I was before you read that book. I’m still your mother and I still love you. Emma’s right – you were happy.”“But I wasn’t,” Henry whispers, face screwing up to hold back tears. “I’m the only kid who gets older. Every time I move up in school, I leave my friends behind. Time’s frozen. Even you haven’t changed. What’s going to happen when I get older? We have to break the Curse, please Mom.”Regina looks stricken. Emma feels sick.“Mommy,” Roland gives Emma her phone back, “Auntie Annabel wants to talk to you.”“Thanks, sweetheart,” Emma says quietly, putting the phone to her ear. “Ann?”“Ems?”“I have to go, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow.”“Sure, sweetheart. Love you lots!”“Love you, too – bye,” Emma says, listening to Annabel give her a cheery farewell before hanging up. She watches Regina and Henry stare at each other, Roland wriggling and climbing onto her lap, reaching for her milkshake. She lets him drink it, knowing this moment is important.Regina looks away.“There is no Curse, Henry. You’re not a child anymore – stop believing in fairytales.”
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“Did you cast a Curse?” Emma asks when Henry and Roland are asleep in bed. Sitting in Regina’s living room with a glass of apple cider, Emma waits for an answer, not sure what to expect.“You believe him, then?” Regina returns – which, fair enough, is something a normal person would ask.“I don’t have to,” Emma says. “I know the Enchanted Forest is real.”Regina makes a face, a mixture of anger and all-knowing crossing her eyes. “Locksley,” she says, hand curling around her glass.“Locksley,” Emma confirms. “Robin’s real name was Roland.”“I see,” Regina mumbles, sipping her cider. “How did he get here?”“An experiment,” Emma says, suspicious, asking in her head, How did you get here?“Rumple was his liege-lord,” Regina mutters, almost to herself. It’s strange for Emma to hear someone else talk about all the…all the magic stuff, all the Enchanted Forest stuff she couldn’t convince herself to believe in until Robin was pulled back through a portal in front of her eyes. “Sir Roland was said to have died.”“The Dark One had him come to the ‘Land Without Magic’,” Emma quotes, trying out the cider. It’s good. “He got pulled back a couple of years later. Time passes differently.”“Maybe with that spell,” Regina says, almost lecturing as she continues, “Each spell is different. Whatever Rumplestiltskin did to send him here must have included an aspect that bent time…he was looking for something.”“Looking for what?” Emma startles, frowning.Regina glances at her. “Who knows. Only Rumple – or perhaps your partner.”“Robin had no idea,” Emma says, slightly distracted as she tries to remember anything Robin ever told her about his ‘liege’. “He was a vassal; he didn’t ask the questions.”“I see,” Regina replies, swirling her drink, still watching Emma with dark eyes. “Have you ever considered that perhaps, he was looking for you, the apparent ‘Saviour’?”“Robin wouldn’t do that,” Emma immediately says.“Are you sure?” Regina raises an eyebrow.“I’m sure,” Emma replies, glaring slightly. “He was seventeen when he showed up here. I helped him get a life, let him live in my apartment – he worked multiple jobs to support himself. Don’t you dare say anything like that about him. He was a good person.”“Fine,” Regina tilts her chin. “I believe you. Don’t get snappy.”Emma bites her tongue. “Sorry.”“No trouble,” Regina says, before replying to her question, finally. “I did cast the Curse that brought everyone here. Henry’s right, of course. I just don’t know how his storybook came into being – how Mary-Margaret gave it to him when by rights, she shouldn’t have it all.”“Really?” Emma questions.“Really,” Regina nods. “I designed every aspect of this reality. Storybrooke is eternally frozen, like he says.”Emma twitches. “Why come clean to me?”“Because you’re the only one who can break it and I’d rather you not,” Regina says succinctly, putting down her drink and leaning forwards. “Miss Swan. It’s clear to me that you believe enough in magic to collapse the Dark Curse, if you had the means. You’re also Henry’s birthmother and seem to want me to remain close to him.”“I want to know what you did,” Emma suddenly cuts in. “Earlier, you lied – you said you hadn’t done anything evil in all your time in Storybrooke. I know when people are lying. I always have.”“A strange gift,” Regina says shortly, before sitting up stiffly. “When the town first appeared, there were campers within the boundary line. I disposed of one of them.”Emma recoils. “Disposed? You mean-”“Of course. I killed him, plain and simple,” Regina rolls her eyes, taking up her glass again and downing the lot. “I don’t regret it – or I didn’t, until now. I’ve changed since then. I want Henry to remain mine and solely mine and if that means making nice with you, I will”“So what?” Emma says, voice strangled, “You want to be friends?”“Acquaintances will do,” Regina replies, lip curling in disgust.“Right,” Emma says faintly, before standing. “Please excuse me.”“You’re excused.”The next morning, Emma takes Roland out into town, driving to Main Street and walking to the nearby park. Roland exuberantly waves at everyone they pass, from old women to the geese in the pond. Emma can’t help but relax around her son, not expecting for the town to be on alert again when they turn into Granny’s Diner.“Have you seen Henry?” asks the waitress, who Emma thinks is called Ruby. “He’s gone missing again.”“Shit, no, sorry,” Emma replies, stunned. Hesitating, because Roland had asked for a pastry for lunch, Emma eventually decides that it would be best if they went back to Mifflin Street. “Got to go.”“Mommy?” Roland frowns when she swings him up onto her hip, stalking out of the diner.“We’re going back to Regina’s for lunch, spourgíti,” Emma tells him. “You can have one of her apples, if you ask nicely.”Roland brightens, “Big red?”“Yes, the big red apples,” Emma confirms, buckling him into his car-seat. She drives back to Mifflin Street, seeing the empty driveway. Depositing Roland in front of the TV with an apple, she searches around, finding a notebook by the house phone. Inside, as she expected, are emergency numbers for Henry – including Regina’s cell.Calling, Emma waits for her to pick up, expecting the harsh “Hello?”“I heard Henry had run away again,” she says.“Miss Swan,” Regina replies, terse. “Do you know where he is?”“No,” Emma answers. “Ro and I were at the park. Have you checked his friend’s?”“He doesn’t have friends.”“His computer?”“As I am currently in the sheriff’s car searching for him, no, I am not,” Regina snaps.“Woah, calm down – I’ll check again and call you back,” Emma says, listening to Regina’s rushed goodbye before she hangs up. Then she goes upstairs to Henry’s room like she did yesterday morning when she checked his computer the first time, before they went out to Granny’s Diner to intercept Mary-Margaret Blanchard and give back her credit card.Henry hasn’t been on his computer again, though – not if Emma’s reading this right. Stumped – and a little surprised at how Regina expects Henry not to touch his computer when he’s banned from it, while it’s still in his room – Emma texts Regina, telling her about her failure.“Where’s Henry?” Roland asks when she sits down with him. Emma’s lip twitches.“Listening in, huh?”“Where’s Henry?” Roland asks again, more worried than before.“We don’t know, kiddo. It’s hard to find someone who doesn’t want to be found.”Roland snuggles into her side. “Like your crim’nals?”“Yeah, like my criminals,” Emma runs a hand through his hair, kissing the top of his head. “I love you.”“Love you,” Roland chirps, before sitting away from her, reaching for his apple on the coffee table. Emma watches him crunch away, watching for signs that he’s finished. He’s not yet had lunch because of the newest Henry dilemma and Emma is hesitant to go through Regina’s cupboard in search of toddler-friendly food – Roland might be a ‘big boy’ now, but he’s not into complex food yet. Even just a certain vegetable in soup could put him off his entire meal.We’ll be back home soon, Emma tries to convince herself, but something in her is already set on staying – if not for Henry, then for Roland. All these people, Regina included, are from the Enchanted Forest. What if people here know Robin? What if he’s here himself? Or his mother – oh, if Roland’s grandmother is here, then Emma has no idea what she’ll do.She doesn’t like thinking about the ‘Saviour’ aspect of it all.Henry is dead set on her breaking this curse – the Dark Curse, as Regina called it, with no exaggeration on her part – and part of Emma wants to. No-one deserves to live like this, trapped forever and not able to remember their true pasts and families. But then again, Emma’s said it already and that’s the fact that she has no idea why it was cast. For all Emma knows, Regina is a victim in all of this. It’s unlikely – she killed a man just because they came near Storybrooke – but Emma would rather hear everyone’s version of the story before immediately going along with Henry’s.Sighing to herself, Emma pushes off the couch and goes back to the phonebook. She scans each of the numbers, plugging more than a few into her phone. Sheriff Graham Humbert’s number seems useful enough to know – as does Mary-Margaret Blanchard’s. Henry trusts her.Emma cocks her head.
Henry trusts her.
Lip twitching, Emma shakes her head before calling her, glancing at the clock in the hall as she does. Lunchtime, she thinks, recalling Regina’s stern voice describing Henry’s school day. Miss Blanchard picks up after the second ring.“Mary-Margaret, how can I help?” Miss Blanchard answers cheerily.“Hi,” Emma starts, “Miss Blanchard, you’re Henry Mills’ teacher, right?”“I am,” she says, obviously more reserved. “I already told the Sheriff I don’t know where he is. Who is this?”“Emma Swan,” Emma replies. “I’m…I’m his birthmother. You might have seen me with Henry and Regina yesterday.”“You let him eat your fries,” Miss Blanchard recalls, chuckling slightly. Emma smiles to herself.“You saw that, huh? Don’t tell Regina.”“Cross my heart,” she promises. “What’s the problem?”“You might have already guessed,” Emma confesses, leaning up against the wall. She watches Roland as he climbs off the sofa, moving around the coffee table to stand close to Regina’s large television.Miss Blanchard sighs. “Henry,” she says, voice soft. “He’s so alone, you know. He’s not good at making friends.”Henry’s words come to mind. I’m the only kid who gets older. Every time I move up in school, I leave my friends behind. Emma winces on his behalf. It would explain why he hasn’t got anyone to connect to.“Yeah,” Emma says wearily. “Clever kid, but kind of antisocial. Reminds me of someone I know.”Miss Blanchard chuckles. “You should be more optimistic…although, considering Regina’s own tendencies, maybe it’s not much of a surprise. She’s quite uncomfortable around people.”“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Emma replies, pondering it. Regina had been stiff around her and melted whenever Henry was about – Emma thought it was just the obvious, considering who Emma is, not that Regina might be somewhat of a loner herself.“Oh yes. She clearly loves Henry, but sometimes I think he needs more support,” Miss Blanchard says in a matter-of-fact tone. “It’s why I gave him the storybook.”“Yeah, about that-” Emma starts, going to ask her where she got it, when Miss Blanchard continues on, unable to be interrupted.“The most important thing anyone can have is hope. Believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.”“Right,” Emma mumbles. “How’s a book supposed to give him hope?”“What do you think stories are for? These stories – the classics? There’s a reason we all know them. They’re a way for us to deal with our world; a world that doesn’t always make sense. See, Henry hasn’t had the easiest life.”“Regina pushes him, but I think that’s for the best, if he’s going to act out like this,” Emma argues.“No – no, that’s not what I meant,” Miss Blanchard says awkwardly, pausing before she continues. “Henry’s like any adopted child, Miss Swan. He wrestles with the most basic question they all inevitably face: why would anyone give me away?”“That’s not always a simple question,” Emma replies, feeling slightly shamed, stomach roiling. Am I really why Henry’s acting like this? Even if the Book wasn’t true in a way…“Oh!” Miss Blanchard exclaims, sounding apologetic. “I am so sorry. I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean in any way to judge you…”“It’s- it’s okay,” Emma clears her throat. “He probably feels a little pissed at me too, which is fair. I mean, I have another kid now, one I kept.”“What’s his name?” she asks kindly and it’s not judging in any way – Emma almost wants to meet up with her, sometime.“Roland,” she says, attracting his attention briefly, before he sees her on the phone. “His name’s Roland.”“That’s a lovely name,” Miss Blanchard replies, sighing. “I wish I had children.”“It’s not that hard,” Emma jokes, getting a snort and a giggle from the middle-school teacher. “Seriously,” Emma grins.“Oh, if only. Storybrooke is tiny!” Miss Blanchard laughs again, before a comfortable silence grows between them. Eventually, she hums happily. “You know, it’s quite funny, but if I had a daughter, I think I’d call her Emma, too.”“I’m flattered,” Emma says, before her words really kick in. It’s like a punch to the gut and she almost drops her phone. Oh, she thinks weakly, feeling sick. Oh.“If you’re really trying to find Henry,” Miss Blanchard continues, oblivious to Emma’s internal turmoil, “I’ve got a recommendation.”“What?” Emma asks quietly, remembering her pale skin and dark hair; recalling the story of Snow White and Prince Charming who gave up their baby girl so she could grow up and save them all. Snow White whispers to her now, so happy and not herself, knowing only the life of Mary-Margaret Blanchard, school-teacher and confidant of her grandson, who was adopted by her nemesis.“If I were you,” Emma’s mother says, “I’d try his castle.”
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Her feet lead her to Mr Gold’s Pawnshop. Roland toddles alongside her, quite happy to roam freely through the picturesque little town of Storybrooke while Regina fetches Henry from his castle by the sea – a playground he used to go to religiously with his mother, when he was young.“C’mon,” Emma chuffs Roland towards the shop door. “In here.”Roland pushes against the door, opening it and causing a bell to chime. It rings through the shop, clear and strong. Entering, Emma immediately makes to pick her son up, very aware that pawnbrokers aren’t fond of grubby fingers all over their glass cabinets – even if this pawnbroker isn’t really a pawnbroker at all.On the far side of the room, paging through a thick book, is an older man with thin brown hair that frames his face, wearing a tailored suit and tie. He smiles at her entrance, but it’s not a nice smile.“Welcome. I am Mr Gold, the proprietor of this establishment. What can I do for you?”Emma approaches with determination, head held high as she comes to a halt in front of him. Her eyes briefly flicker down, looking through the cabinet of treasures between them. Only one thing catches her eye, the most surprising of items to her.And here I thought, Emma muses as she looks pointedly away from the chipped cup, that the fairytales weren’t based off Disney.“My name is Emma Swan,” she introduces herself. She doesn’t expect him to know her – in fact, like Regina explained to her when she asked if Robin’s liege-lord was here, Emma expects him to be Cursed. Meeting Rumplestiltskin’s Cursed self is her idea of assurance.Mr Gold’s eyes glimmer and quite suddenly, his smile is much more genuine.“Emma – what a lovely name.” His gaze trails over Roland, who is peering over Emma’s shoulder at something. “And who might this young lad be?”Her lips pinch. “Roland,” Emma says, eyes narrowing, “Roland Locksley.”“Ah,” he breathes, the flash of sorrow unmistakeable. Rumplestiltskin taps his fingers across the glass top, staring at her son as he comes to the most obvious, clear conclusion. No, this is not simply Mr Gold. “You know who I am, don’t you?”“Robin never lied to me about who he was or what he was doing here,” hisses Emma. Her anger from years apart from her husband rises in one fell swoop as she yells, “Where is he?”The Dark One does not giggle or act like an imp. To Emma’s eyes, he is an ordinary man, despite his magical past. When he does not answer, she scoffs and turns on her heel, storming out of the pawnshop with no clear destination in mind.Ruby, the waitress at Granny’s Diner, is sweeping the path between the sidewalk and the diner when Emma approaches, stewing in her own misery. She raises an eyebrow, blowing a pink bubble as she speaks up.“You look like you’re about to murder someone. What’s up, lady?”“I’m about to murder someone,” Emma mutters in reply. She is stuck recalling Robin in their Tallahassee apartment, the memory of him making some stupid comment about dinner replaying over and over in her head. She can’t remember what he said. All she can remember is his smile and the way his eyes creased at the sides. There is a picture of her husband in her wallet at their wedding dinner, taken by Jacob. All Emma wants to do is take it out and bury her face in it, in place of Robin himself.Ruby leans on her broom, pouting while Emma thinks sorrowful thoughts. “Aw, who pissed you off?”“Gold.”The other woman makes a face. “You don’t want to go around attempting to murder Gold. He’ll make yours and your family’s lives hell. He’s an ass, but he’s a rich ass.”Emma snorts. “He owes me.”“Now, I highly doubt that,” comes Regina’s by-now familiar voice. Emma twists, discovering the woman behind her. Her arms cross. “I saw you walking down the street in a very…disturbed manner. What did he say to you?”“It’s what he didn’t say,” Emma replies, feeling regretful. She should have waited. He wouldn’t have left them both in silence forever. “But he does owe me, for Robin,” she insists.Regina inclines her head, dark hair falling over her eyes. She reaches up to tuck it behind her ear, then says, “Then he owes you.” Regina agrees, continuing on to inform Emma of the situation. “Henry is with Archie. I believe it would be beneficial if you visited briefly, near the end of the session. I’ve already told Dr Hopper to expect you.”“That’s a bit presumptuous,” Emma says, dubious. She nods anyway, shifting Roland on her hip. “I’ll pop in. Could you look after Roland while I did?”The Evil Queen looks at her son with dark eyes for a moment, features softening. There’s something new there, though – a greed, a wanting. For a second, Emma feels a protective sort of possessiveness; she wants to keep Roland far, far away from anyone and everyone, Regina included. But the look fades and Emma brushes off her own feelings. Regina might have done despicable things in the past – things that still don’t seem real to Emma, things that haven’t affected her yet, because she hasn’t seen proof – however, her behaviour with Henry and even with Roland, is enough for Emma to trust her with her baby, albeit temporarily.“Gina,” Roland mumbles, mouth clamped over his sleeve. Emma tugs it out, grimacing at the wet half-moon she uncovers.“Yeah, you’re going with Gina,” mutters Emma in reply to his whisper. She looks to Regina. “How long do these things go on?”“With Henry?” The queen tilts her head. “An hour, usually. Archie may keep him ten minutes longer, should this session prove…challenging.”“Alright,” Emma glances at the town clock, but it isn’t the right time. “Alright,” she repeats, before asking her nervously, “Do you want to sit with us in the diner or something? You can tell me when to go across the road and I know where Roland is.”“That would be satisfactory.” The other woman steps closer, plucking Roland from her hip. Regina’s happiness seems genuine as she begins interacting with him, though as she steps forwards, Emma sees Ruby raising her eyebrows at them all. She sends Emma a look, as if asking seriously? Emma shrugs, stuffing her hands in her jean pockets and following them in.Sitting at the table by the window, directly beside the bar, Regina speaks to her in a quiet voice. She also speaks in Greek, making the nearest patron’s face screw up as Mrs Lucas pours them coffee; Emma thinks he looks particularly dour, past his outraged curiosity.“There was no point in seeing the Dark One – he doesn’t remember his life from the Enchanted Forest.”Emma remembers his reaction to Roland’s name. “He remembers, Regina. As soon as I introduced myself, he lit up. He didn’t deny knowing Robin.”The expression on Regina’s face is not what she expected. Perhaps Emma wants to see what she looks like angry. The fear is different.“Are you sure?”“Define ‘sure’, Regina.” Emma purses her lips, shaking her head. “I don’t know what went on between you, but my business with Gold is…delicate. I want to know how Robin got to be here in America, in what must have been the future. I want to know about his life. I want-” Emma stops, forcing herself to take a breath. Roland on Regina’s lap is quiet, perfectly distracted by Regina’s beaded necklace.The Evil Queen clears her throat. “You could ask me,” she says, like that’s an option.Emma stares at her. “You know what happened to him?”“He was a bandit in my kingdom – much like Snow White, actually.” Her lips twitch and an amused smile slowly grows into being. “I must say, it is strange to speak about these things so casually.”“Right.” Emma nervously taps the table. “What happened, after he disappeared the first time?”“Actually, the last I heard of Roland of Locksley was when he supposedly burst into flames,” says Regina delicately. Emma’s heart plummets, then she continues on to say, “But when the young heir to Locksley died, a bandit by the name of Robin Hood started roaming the countryside. He claimed to be the heir, but his uncle denied him. Robin Hood and his Merry Men…quite the band. They snuck into my palace once, as minstrels, then released half my prisoners.”“Sounds like Robin.” Emma mutters to herself, before listening to Regina spin a desolate tale of a harvest masquerade and the utter destruction they wreaked, ruining the party and providing a distraction for their fellows to raid the dungeons. Roland, hearing the change in tone from conversation to story-time, listens nearly as avidly as Emma. He recognises his father’s name and squeals at the appropriate moments.It’s amazing to hear about her husband from the lips of another. Sometimes, Emma feels like she’s the only one who remembers him as he truly was – and now, here is the Evil Queen, talking about a part of Robin’s life she never got to see.At the end of Regina’s tale, Emma blurts out, “He loved Lord of the Rings.”A hurried blink – a shift in posture. “I see,” says Regina, who doesn’t seem to.“Roland’s middle name is Frodo. That’s how much he loved those books.” Emma tells, so eager to gush and sing the praises of a man long lost, out of her reach. “He was sarcastic. He liked giving me compliments. He liked this other author, called Neil Gaiman and this book he wrote about a lost prince and a star falling in love.”Regina looks lost. Vulnerable and confused. “Why are you telling me this?” She asks, suspicious.Emma wavers over telling her the truth and eventually, that eagerness in her chest dies. Looking at her hand, she makes up a lie that seems like it isn’t one at all.“You can tell Henry. If he’s still being difficult, when Robin and I go to our new place in New York. Stuff about his dad that seems normal, that he can hold onto without…without me having to tell him. That’s better, right?”There is a darkness to Regina’s eyes when Emma looks up again. She’s closed off and cold, distant.“Yes,” Regina eventually agrees, voice clipped. She looks at a designer watch on her wrist. “Henry will be ready for you, by now. You should go.”“Yep,” Emma nods, finishing her coffee and wiping her mouth before standing. Rounding the table, she leans over to kiss Roland on the cheek, crouching down so he doesn’t have to crane his neck. She smiles at her son as he grins at her, though the grey pallor of his skin makes her think he’s hungry. “Hey, spourgíti. You’re going to have lunch with Gina, ‘kay?”“Okay!” Roland exclaims, happily snuggling up into Regina’s chest. Emma bites her lip when she sees sideways through a gap between the buttons of her shirt, a pale pink bra exposed for her to see under the white material.“See you later,” she says, standing back up again and taking out her wallet, putting a ten dollar bill on the table for Roland’s lunch. Regina catches her eyes, nodding silently in farewell. Emma leaves the diner.In the pit of her stomach, a bundle of nerves electrifies and gives her an urge to throw up. She forces her feet to move, one in front of the other, aiming for the psychiatrist’s office, just across the road. Emma has to pause when she gets to the glass door.
Henry is freaked out. He’s bratty and he knows that he’s being lied to and…and it’s just shitty. Maybe I can help him with something. I can convince him that I’m telling the truth – that I gave him up so he could have his best chance.
She opens the door.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The inside of Dr Hopper’s office is homely, with books, brown sofas, and a rug. There’s a giant desk by the window and dark green filing cabinets – and there, looking barely ruffled, is Henry on the floor with a dalmatian.“Miss Swan?” The therapist greets her, smiling hesitantly.“That’s me,” Emma says, nervous. She kicks her feet on the welcome mat, stepping inside at Dr Hopper’s invitation and skirting around the sofa – skirting Henry, to be specific. She sits on the sofa nearest Dr Hopper’s armchair.“I’ll dive right in, if you don’t mind,” says Dr Hopper, getting a hurried nod in return. He gestures to her firstborn. “Henry and I have been talking this afternoon about his feelings regarding you, his birth mother. His actions of late have been…impulsive. Driven by a need to feel wanted. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to tell Henry, in your own words, why you gave him away.”A lump forms in her throat. Her mouth feels dry. Emma looks Henry’s way, head swinging right, only to find him already staring at her in anticipation.“I…” she starts, beginning to panic.“Take all the time you need,” Dr Hopper says in a soothing tone. “This is a safe space. Nothing you say in here will be talked about outside of this office, unless you or Henry initiate a conversation.”“I know. I just…it was hard. My relationship with your father…” Emma struggles, knowing she is carrying on a lie about Neal and Robin, for Henry’s sake. “I wasn’t stable. Things were bad, Henry. I…I was in prison. A…a guy we knew, I was involved in a crime he’d done. I was young. I wasn’t ready. Robin didn’t have any papers – he couldn’t take custody of you, not on his own. We agreed that- that it would be better for you. I thought you’d have a better chance in the system…and you did.”“No, I didn’t.” Henry immediately rebukes her, as if he knows better.“You know shit,” Emma immediately snaps at him, so infuriated with this boy. She glares at him, blindly pointing to the outside. “I would have killed to have this life! I was in the foster system from the moment my parents gave me up!”“But they didn’t want to, they had to!” Henry immediately cries and it is the wrong thing to say to Emma Swan.“No.” Emma grinds out. “You don’t get to tell me that. My parents get to tell me that. You do not get to excuse their actions based on a book you read. They abandoned me.”“Like you abandoned me?”Dr Hopper looks ready to intervene at that, but Emma is on a roll. “I gave you away – there is a difference. I made sure you got medical care and a good family. My parents left me on the side of the road to die.”Her son looks stricken. Dr Hopper does speak, then. “Henry,” he calls out gently, leaning forwards in his seat. “What Emma is trying to say, is that she made the arrangements for your adoption with your best interests in mind. She wanted you to have a better start to life than she did. She wanted you to have a family who could love and care for you in ways she couldn’t, when you were born.”“Yeah,” Emma says, thankful the doctor is there – though, wonders why he’s putting words in her mouth. “All of that. I wanted you to have your best chance.”“What about my dad?” Henry asks, plaintive. His hands have dropped from the dalmatian’s short fur, limp by his sides. “And Roland?”“Roland – this is your son, yes? Henry’s biological half-brother?” Dr Hopper clarifies from Emma. She nod shortly. “Do you have anything to say on the matter?”“…When I had you, I was eighteen. I was a kid. I wasn’t ready for motherhood. Roland was…Roland was planned, sort of,” Emma is mumbling by the end. She doesn’t have an excuse for Henry, here. She had Roland because she and Robin had decided to take life as it came at them. That included Ro.“You were in a better place to have a child,” Hopper prompts.Emma shrugs. “I wasn’t in prison, at least. I had an apartment, a car, barely any debts…Robin and I worked three jobs each, supporting the both of us. We had friends, Roland’s godparents, who took care of us after Robin…went.”Hopper adjusts his glasses. “My condolences.”Emma shrugs, not wanting to explain it. She catches a strange frown on Henry’s face before it disappears.“Did my dad love me?”She closes her eyes, remembering the first time she told him. He’d been shocked, stunned…it took him a week to adjust, but he supported her. Didn’t ask too many questions. Robin listened when she did talk about it, though – and no doubt, if he was here, he’d take to Henry like a duck to water. He’d be all over him, regardless of Regina’s feelings. Unwillingly, Emma finds herself smiling, rubbing at her suddenly wet eyes.“He would have adored you,” Emma says honestly, feeling the lightest she has all session. For once, when she sees Henry smile, she doesn’t see Neal. Instead, she sees a reflection of herself and Roland, the brightness and love in his eyes familiar. Henry doesn’t look like Neal’s son. In fact, he looks more like Regina than Neal, which is some coincidence – Emma wonders if Regina sees it, too.“What did he look like?” Henry asks, pushing Emma to get her wallet out. Henry scampers to her side as she pulls out the crinkled photograph.In it, Robin is kissing her, hands cupping her pink cheeks. Emma’s expression is hidden behind both his hands and her riotous curls, Robin bright-eyed and joyful. In the picture, you can see the edges of both of their tattoos, daisies and lions identical in their colour and placement.I look so young, Emma thinks, though she knows that they were only married five years ago.“How old were you?”“Twenty-three. He was twenty-one,” Emma tells, only realising how that sounds in regards to Henry after she’s said it. Oh, fuck. I sound like a perv. She clears her throat, stating, “He grew up in a commune. It was really weird for a couple of years. I had to teach him how to use a calendar and how to work a light-switch.”“Cool…wait, a light-switch?” Henry repeats her, bewilderment clear.Emma chuckles, embarrassed on Robin’s behalf, even years later. “Oh yeah. I found him on the side of the road, shined a torch in his face and everything. He’d never seen a flashlight, let alone a real car. By this time-” she waves the picture around “-he was fully integrated. He was Jacob’s personal trainer at a gym and he cleaned and organised a library most evenings. He volunteered at their language study sessions, too, helping people who spoke Spanish, French and Greek how to speak English. He was great at it.”“Woah,” Henry stares, sounding awed. “He was a teacher?”“Sometimes – mostly tutoring. He was a nerd and a jock put together. You should have seen him when he worked out. It was…something,” Emma can’t help the little smirk that appears on her face. Dr Hopper chuckles in amusement, nodding.“This is progress. Great progress. That’s the end of our time today, Henry – Miss Swan. Thank-you for coming,” Dr Hopper reaches to shake her hand, which she does after hurriedly stuffing the picture back in her wallet. “And please, if you ever find yourself in need of a different perspective on issues, my office is open. I don’t have many clients, so please, just come up.”“I’ll think about it,” Emma promises quietly, glancing Henry’s way. “Time to go. You got a jacket?”“Yeah,” Henry says, saying goodbye before taking it from a hook behind the door and threading his arms through the sleeves. “Where are we going, now?”“Back to the diner, to see your mom and Roland,” Emma tells him, turning to Dr Hopper when they reach the door. “Thanks. I’ll see you round.”He nods cheerfully, “Of course. Have a nice day – both of you. Mayor Mills will get my bill for today alongside the rest of this month’s.”“Okay.”They exit the office, heading towards the stairs until Henry grabs her hand, stopping her in her place. He squeezes her hand, looking up at her with a sad smile.“Thanks for telling me about Dad – and for showing me his picture.”Heart thumping inside her chest at Henry calling Robin dad, Emma swallows the lump in her throat, nodding silently. Henry swings their hands between them, leading her towards the stairs again.“Do you have any more photos of him?”“Not a lot – about ten, twelve. Jacob and Annabel might have more, but they’ve searched most of them out over the last couple of years. We have a bucket of negatives, though. Jacob has them in storage, along with some paper copies. I asked him to keep them safe for me.”“Why?”“Because…because I don’t like having lots of things,” Emma tells him a truth. “It comes from moving around a lot as a kid. It’s a habit I haven’t broken out of, yet and honestly, when you have so many important things, you want them all safe and sound. The pictures are important. So are the books.”“Books?” Henry asks.Damn it. I was going to leave them to Regina, Emma winces, shaking her head. “Just some stuff of Robin’s. They’re packed away, hidden.” Yeah, in the boot of my car.“Cool,” murmurs Henry, who thankfully falls silent. Together, they leave the building and make the short trip to the diner, still holding hands when they enter.On the table, Emma sees Roland’s empty plate, ketchup staining a smiley face on the plastic and crumbs from chicken nuggets and chips scattered throughout, a stray pea squashed into the sauce. Regina looks up at their entrance, her arms still wrapped around Roland, just like how Emma left them, smile becoming fixed at the sight of them holding hands.Maybe, if Roland weren’t squarely on Regina’s lap, Emma might have let go.Instead, she waves – “Hi. How was lunch, spourgíti?” – and sits down opposite them in her old seat, tugging Henry to sit next to her. It’s a strange situation, her youngest sitting on the lap of her firstborn’s adoptive mother, while she deliberately makes said woman tense up by staking a claim.You’re playing with fire, darling, the voice of Robin warns her, in the privacy of her own mind.“Nuggets!” Roland exclaims, grey pallor gone now that he’s eaten. His bright eyes bring Emma joy, even from Regina’s lap. He wriggles, wanting off the woman’s lap, finally and Regina lets him – though she clearly takes no joy from it. Emma greedily accepts her sons presence when he skirts the table to climb up onto her lap, instead, finding it perversely funny when she sees Henry’s jealous look, directed at his mother.“I’m sure your mom would give you a hug, too, kid,” Emma jokes, watching how both of them react in different ways – Regina looking surprised, then hurt, as Henry’s eyes widen then stubbornly stick to the table, arms crossing over his chest in defiance. “Right,” Emma rolls her eyes, finally accepting her new reality. “Yeah, this is going to be fun. Listen, Ro and I are moving to New York soon, so we need to set up some lines of communication.”Regina purses her lips. “Miss Swan, is this the right place to be talking about such matters?”“Yeah, it is,” Emma replies, just as defiant as Henry. “Because I’m not stupid enough to talk to you about this in your house. I gave Henry up. He’s your son. Unfortunately for us both, Henry isn’t going to take separation lying down and actually? Neither would Roland.”“So what do you suggest?” Regina asks, voice smooth like honey and even more poisonous for it. “That you move to Storybrooke, perhaps?”“No.” Emma says, flatly. “I’m moving to New York. That’s the plan. I’m thinking holidays, I come visit and we go places you like with Roland. Places like the park, the beach or just here,” she waves her arm about, gesturing to the diner.Regina looks like she’s biting into a lemon for a moment, but eventually, she stiffly nods. “I can get my lawyer to write up an official agreement. I’ll expect it to be followed to the letter.”“I’ll need my own lawyers to take a look at it,” Emma says, out of her damn ass. She’ll need to call Annabel.“Acceptable.”“Mom?” Henry pipes up, grabbing for a menu. “Can we get lunch here? I’m hungry.”“No, because you are still grounded, mister,” snaps Regina, glaring balefully at her son. “You worried so many people again this morning.”Henry rolls his eyes.“Cut the cheek,” Emma tells him off, backing Regina up. Henry looks betrayed, but Emma doesn’t waver, even as the doorbell to the diner chimes, admitting the Dark One himself. He turns to face them, leaning on his cane. Henry turns as her gaze shifts upwards.“Miss Swan. Madam Mayor. Henry. Roland Junior. How…precipitous an occasion,” he smirks. “How is your new blended family coping with such life-altering changes?”“Rumple, leave us be,” Regina orders sharply. They meet eyes and something strong passes between them. Emma watches avidly.“Oh, Your Majesty,” he murmurs after a long moment. “Why, oh why would I do that? The fun is just beginning. It’s quite a conundrum you face, with Miss Swan. You do know things will only get worse, yes? I’m not the only one with a…well, let’s call it a sensitivity, to the Saviour’s sort of magic.”“What the hell does that mean?” Regina snarls, only for Henry to exclaim in a hiss.“It is true!” He turns to glare at his mother. “You lied to me! You’re a liar!”Emma jolts, having been so engrossed in the conversation that she didn’t remember that Henry hadn’t known. Regina seems to have the same realisation, a truly awful expression passing across her face.Rumplestiltskin chuckles merrily, as if it were all a game. “Oh dear. I see you have some problems to correct. I’ll see you soon, Regina. We have…things, to discuss. Similarly, Miss Swan…” his expression turns serious as he turns his attention onto her, instead. “I would give recompense, when you asked. A favour. I trust you know the power that you now hold – use it wisely.”“I will,” Emma mutters, before watching him leave. The tension between Henry and Regina is stifling.“Mama?” Roland tugs at her jacket. “Play at park?”“…yes, Ro, you’re going to play at the park – with Regina,” Emma says, making a decision. Regina looks at her sharply, copied by Henry a millisecond later. Their expressions are identical. “I’m going to take Henry to sit on some rocks nearby his castle, which you’re going to play on. It’s an awesome play park, made for big boys.”“Big boys?”“Big boys,” Emma confirms, jerking her head to the others to get them moving. It somehow surprises her that the Mills do as they’re told. On their way out, she gets some fries to go for herself and Henry, ignoring Regina’s twisted lips at the sight of the grease-covered potato chips.Emma thinks of what she’s going to say to Henry, when they get to the park. Her feelings over Henry’s adoption have always been mixed and honestly? Knowing how Roland has turned out, Emma regrets not keeping him, but in that way someone wishes, knowing they couldn’t have really kept them. Mothers aren’t allowed to keep their babies in prison and Emma hadn’t any money or an apartment. Henry would have been taken away from her by CPS and they would have treated him as a foster-child, put in a mystery temporary placement until Emma had the resources to care for him.I was too young, thinks Emma, guilty over her own choices. She hasn’t felt this insecure in years.Regina keeps looking her way, but Roland is an effective tether once they arrive, dragging her to the park with a tight grip on her hand. Henry and Emma sit on a set of rocks with their fries.“I don’t need therapy. I’m right – the Dark Curse is real.” He whispers. His despair is obvious. “She lied to me. We asked her, yesterday and she lied without blinking.”“Not quite,” Emma admits. “I have a superpower. Human lie-detector. She asked me not to break the Curse.”“You have to,” insists Henry, but Emma shakes her head.“Not yet. I think something’s wrong already – the Dark One remembers. I need to figure things out before I go around poking my nose in and around the town. Regina could probably tell me…”“She wouldn’t tell you everything,” he warns, “and she’d try to lie, without lying. She’s dangerous – she’s the Evil Queen!”“I know, Henry, you don’t have to keep telling me.” Emma puts her arm around his shoulders in comfort, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He smells like green apples and honey and it reminds her of the covers in the guest bedroom of 108 Mifflin Street. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with the Curse. I don’t know if I’ll be able to break it. What I do know is that Roland and I aren’t staying here forever. We can’t. The apartment in Boston needs to be packed up, my lease in New York is already paid for…and then there’s you to think about it.”“You should stay.”“I can’t make that sort of decision on such short notice. Even with the town being here and the Curse trapping everyone…it’s wrong. Wrong to be near you. Separate from the Curse, just- just adoption, Henry.” Emma holds him tight, whispering to him. “I wish you were my son, but you’re not. You’re hers and frankly, I am so happy with how she raised you. You’re independent, curious and you can be so good when you want to be. Smart. Brave. You went all the way to Boston on your own just to find me, a longshot.”“I waited for you,” he says, voice muffled against her shoulder. His arms have snaked out, wrapped around her waist and Emma has to say, it’s a nice feeling.Emma presses another kiss to his hair, ruffling it into a mess a moment later and smiling at his scrunched-up nose. That doesn’t come from her or Neal. On the castle, Roland shrieks happily and she can hear Regina’s voice – measured, but warm. For a moment, things are peaceful and bright.Not even Robin’s absence can spoil it.