“Look, kid,” she said. “I know it’s hard for you to see it, but I’m doing what’s best for you. That’s what you wanted when you brought me to Storybrooke. That’s what I’m doing.”
“I want you to do what’s best for all of us,” Henry said, almost arguing with her thoughts. “I thought you were believing. I thought you were starting to get it.”
“Henry—”
“You weren’t?”
“I don’t know what I was doing. But now I see it clearly. The problem is the place. This place. Storybrooke.”
“But the curse,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re the only chance to bring back the happy endings…”
There was nothing she could say, so she didn’t bother trying to comfort him. He would figure it out eventually. She watched grimly as they approached the sign marking the edge of Storybrooke, thinking, for the first time, of what their lives might look like in Boston. They could—
“Henry!” she cried.
It happened fast. He reached over and yanked the wheel to the side, and it was all Emma could do to keep the Bug from rolling. She corrected the steering, hit the brakes, and whipped the wheel back the other way to make up for their momentum to the right. The Bug spun but didn’t roll, and they came to a stop perpendicular to the road.
She looked at Henry. “What are you thinking?” she said. “You could have gotten us both killed!”
But her heart stopped her from saying more. He was crestfallen. Tears in his eyes, snot bubbling out of his nose, he strung together a series of fragments: “… We can’t go… please… please don’t make me… Everything is here… your parents… me… your family… we can’t go. Don’t make me go.” He hung his head, and Emma reached over, pulled him toward her. This wasn’t the way. It wasn’t going to work like this. She’d have to find another way.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m sorry. We’re not going.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
• • •
After a few moments, and after Henry calmed down, Emma turned the car around and headed back to Storybrooke. She dropped Henry off at home and went back to her apartment. Inside, she found Mary Margaret in the kitchen, making breakfast.
“I thought you’d left,” Mary Margaret said when she came in.
Great, Emma thought. Now she’s pissed, too.
“Mary Margaret—” Emma began.
“But it was hard to tell, seeing as you didn’t bother to say good-bye.” She looked up from the toaster and took a step toward Emma, her anger rising. “Do you remember when I left? When I ran? What you said to me? That we had to stick together. That we were like family?”
“Yes,” Emma said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left.”
“That’s right, you shouldn’t have. Why, after everything, would you just go?”
Emma sighed. “I don’t want to be sheriff anymore. I don’t want people relying on me. I don’t want this.” She shook her head, feeling more defeated than she had since she’d been here.
“What about Henry?” Mary Margaret asked.
“I—I tried to take him with me.”
“You abducted him?”
Emma had never seen Mary Margaret this angry. She had no defense against her accusations, either.
“I want what’s best for him.”
“And being on the run is what’s best? It sounds like it’s what’s best for you, Emma. I thought you’d changed.”
“You thought wrong,” Emma said.
“Well, regardless,” Mary Margaret said, “you’ve got to do the right thing for him now.”
“And what’s that?”
“I don’t know. You’re his mother.” She gave Emma one last angry glare. “Figure it out.”
• • •
Snow watched the castle wall through the spyglass until she heard the signal: a piercing wolf’s howl. That was it. Now was the time.
She turned to Grumpy. “Do it,” she said.
He nodded, and she watched as Happy nocked an arrow and Grumpy lit the lanolin-soaked rag wrapped around the arrowhead. The arrow lit, Happy drew it back and launched it up into the night sky.
That was the signal.
“Let’s go!” Snow cried. She and the dwarfs, along with Granny and Jiminy, ran toward the castle walls.
As they ran, Snow heard the first bombardments coming from their “air support”: The Blue Fairy and a cadre of her companions swarmed down from the sky and began peppering the castle and its guards with multicolored fireballs.
“Go, go!” Snow cried, and soon they reached the castle walls. Above, the soldiers were all preoccupied with the fairies. Snow nodded to Granny, who shot a grappling claw up over the wall. The metal gripped the stone, and Snow nodded. So far, so good.
She, the dwarfs, and Granny all climbed the dangling rope, and one by one, they reached the lowest parapet. Snow surveyed the scene. All of the guards had flocked down to the central courtyard and were shooting up into the sky.
“Come on,” Snow said.
They hustled down a set of stone stairs and soon reached the courtyard. Just as they did, Snow felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to find Red there behind them. Snow nodded. They were at full strength. She could see, a hundred yards in the distance, the doorway where she guessed Charming was being held. A dozen guards blocked their path.
This time, she didn’t have to give the order. The dwarfs were out front, their pikes raised, all of them screaming with the rage of battle. Snow, Red, and Granny were not far behind.
The guards never saw them coming.
It took only a minute to dispatch them all, distracted as they were by the aerial bombardment. Beside her, Snow felt Red expanding in size, and then she heard the wolf version of her friend cutting through the terrified guards. She concentrated on her own fight with an overweight, armor-clad man, who was too slow to stop her flurry of quick strikes with her short sword.
“There!” Granny cried, just as the guard she was fighting fell. From the east, another dozen guards were streaming into the courtyard. “Now’s your chance!” Granny said. “We’ll hold them.”
Snow nodded and ran for the doorway, taking the stairs by twos, remembering the way from her last incursion.
At the top of the stairs, she reached a long, dark corridor. The torches had been extinguished. She looked down the hallway, breathing heavily, listening for any sound. I am alone, she thought. She took a step.
When she did, King George stepped out from a doorway halfway down the hall. He drew an enormous sword and pointed it at her head.
“Hello, my dear,” he said. “Going somewhere?”
Snow took a step forward, holding her measly sword out. This man, she thought, has caused me much misery. She had to get past him, she knew that. But she was terrified.
When she was ten feet from him, she saw movement near George’s feet. Before she realized what she was seeing, George cried out in pain.
Jiminy, a tiny sword drawn, was stabbing at George’s calf.
“Ha!” he cried, and stabbed again.
George attempted to slice downward, but Jiminy was too quick. He danced to the other calf and stabbed there. This time Snow cringed at the attack; she saw a small spurt of blood shoot out from George’s leg, and he crumpled to the ground.
Snow ran up. “Good job,” she said, kicking George’s sword aside. “Come on.”
“Snow!” came a cry. “Snow White!” It was Charming. His voice was coming from a chamber at the end of the hall.
“He’s here,” she said. “Go tell the others.” Jiminy nodded and hopped off, back toward the stairs.
Snow took another breath, then walked toward the sound of her beloved’s voice. The Evil Queen was still somewhere, and Snow was wary of a trap. Sword held high, she cautiously stepped into the room.
And she saw him.
He was standing in an alcove, his hands bound, looking at her with both hope and fear in his eyes.
She ran toward him. “My love!” s
he cried. “Charming!”
It was only after she’d approached, though, that she realized that they’d been had. The image of Charming was only that: an image. He was in a mirror. Which meant that he was not, in fact, here in this castle. The Evil Queen had taken him away, back to her own home. She put her hand on the glass of the mirror.
“The Queen took me to her palace,” he said sadly.
“But I’m rescuing you,” she said.
“Snow,” he said, shaking his head. They were both crying now.
“Is this going to be our life?” she asked. “We take turns finding each other?”
“We will be together. I know it,” he said. “Have faith.”
She heard the sound of the Evil Queen’s muted laughter and watched as green smoke filled the mirror, clouding over her love. The laughter become louder, and soon Snow was looking at a haughty, happy Regina.
“Let him go,” Snow said. “Your fight is with me.” She could not believe that the betrayal of Regina’s secret, so long ago, still drove the woman. She knew how powerful love could be, but she couldn’t imagine vengeance—this much vengeance—no matter what happened.
“Exactly my thought, old friend,” Regina said. “Have you ever heard of a parlay? We break off this messy fight and have a little talk, just you and me. Come unarmed.”
“Fine,” Snow said. “Where do I meet you?”
“Where it all began,” said Regina.
Snow knew exactly what she meant.
• • •
Emma had already gone to Archie’s office, only to find the out to lunch sign up on his door. Considering the town, that meant pretty much one option: Granny’s.
She found him alone in a booth, eating a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup.
“You got a minute?” she said, sliding in across from him.
He dabbed at his mouth. “Of course, Emma,” he said. “Of course.”
Emma told him the story of what Henry had done the night before, in the car. Archie listened attentively, and when she was through, he said, “He grabbed the wheel?” He shook his head. “He must not have considered the consequences.”
“That’s just it,” she said. “I think he did. I think he would rather die than leave Storybrooke.”
He nodded. “Children like stability and structure. Change means no one’s going to be there to take care of them.”
“I want to be there to take care of him,” she said. “But it’s easy to say it. Harder to do it.”
“Let me ask you a question,” he said. “As this war between you and Regina rages on, who is really getting hurt?”
She knew the answer; she didn’t need to say it out loud. How much of this could the kid take?
“But isn’t it good for him to be with me?” she asked.
“Emma, all personal feelings aside. And even professional feelings. I’m afraid you just don’t have a case for getting custody.”
“I’m his mother.”
“You are. So is Regina. And, well, the court’s gonna look at how he’s been doing since you came into his life.”
“And he’s happier, isn’t he?” Emma said hopefully.
“Maybe,” he said. “But objectively? He’s skipped school. Stolen a credit card. Run away. Endangered himself. Repeatedly. So, in the eyes of the law…”
“What about in your eyes?” she asked. “What do you think?”
“You know, a while back I told you to engage him on his fantasy life, and perhaps…” He sighed. “Perhaps I was wrong. He’s been retreating further into it.”
“So you think he’s better off with Regina,” she said.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Do you think,” Emma asked, “that she would ever hurt him?”
“No. Never,” Archie said. “Everyone else, sure. But not him. Her actions, right or wrong, have been defensive. I’m not judging here. But in many ways, Emma, your arrival woke a sleeping dragon.”
She found it to be an odd choice of words.
“So tell me,” she said finally. “Honestly. Is Henry better off since I got here?”
“I don’t think it’s a matter of being better off,” he said. “It’s a matter of this conflict needing to end. If you two are going to be in his life, you have to figure out the best way to do that. Plain and simple.”
Yup, Emma thought. Plain and simple.
“Okay,” she said. “Thanks, Doc.” She slid out of the booth.
“Are you all right?” he asked her. “You look like you’re in pain.”
“Not me,” she said. “Just my conscience.”
• • •
She left the diner in a daze, oppressed by her own emotions. What had she done to Henry? What had she done? It all seemed so cocksure now, so bold and reckless. This was a boy, her son, who did not have the capacity to navigate this much conflict and change, and here she was, just inserting herself into his world. It turned out that she was the dragon of the past. In this case, she was the Evil Queen.
She stepped off the curb, transfixed by this horrible thought, and was almost run over by a pickup truck. It honked and hit the brakes, and Emma stumbled backward, still in a daze.
“Emma!” she heard from across the street. Mary Margaret was running toward her. “Are you okay?”
Emma looked at her and nodded.
“I’m so sorry,” came another voice—the driver of the truck. “I didn’t see you!”
Emma looked in his direction. It was David. Perfect.
“Are you okay?” he echoed, rushing up to her.
“It’s fine,” Emma said, snapping herself out of it. “I wasn’t looking. I’m totally fine.”
She felt David and Mary Margaret flanking her on either side. David put an arm around her. “We’ll take you to the hospital,” he said. “You’re not well.”
“Does anything hurt?” said Mary Margaret.
“Guys. No. Seriously.” She shucked them off. “I’m okay.”
She stormed away. She had to find Regina.
• • •
King George’s castle was theirs. King George himself was locked in the dungeon, and Snow, Granny, Red, Jiminy, and the dwarfs were together in George’s war room, planning their next step. That’s what they thought they were doing, at least—Snow didn’t need a plan. She knew her next move. She was going to meet with the Evil Queen, unarmed, and end this conflict once and for all.
Of course her companions didn’t want her to do it.
“You’re too noble for your own good,” Red said, watching Snow remove every hidden weapon and piece of armor from her body.
“I’m not. But enough of you have risked your lives because of something that’s between the Queen and me. I won’t let anyone else get hurt because of me,” said Snow. “I’m not asking. I thank you all for your support, and I love each and every one of you. But this is something I have to do. Alone.”
She pushed past the dwarfs, looked back at her friends once more, and smiled. They were her family. They were strong. They believed in her. She loved them.
“I don’t trust the Queen,” said Red.
“I know,” said Snow. “Neither do I.”
She smiled one last smile and walked out the door.
• • •
It was not a long trip. Snow left at dawn, and an hour before dusk, she was approaching the estate where Regina had grown up, and where Snow had spent so much time as a little girl. So much had happened since those days! And she was here again. So much stronger than she had ever been. So much more in possession of herself. Even after her father had died—after Regina had killed her father—Snow White had been unable to see the forest for the trees and had been too scared and too intimidated by the size of the world to push back against it, to demand justice, to unseat Regina when she deserved to be unseated. Right then and there. In a strange twist of fate, it had taken all of this—her time alone as a bandit, her friendship with Red and the dwarfs, and her love for Charming—for her to really come
into herself. For her to be able to confront the Queen now. Funny how things tended to work out.
She tied her horse at the front of the estate and went on foot to the stables, where she knew Regina would be waiting for her.
And she was. Snow saw her on the top of the hill, watching as Snow approached. Snow walked resolutely, her head up, her eyes locked on Regina’s.
“Hello, Regina,” she said once she’d reached her.
Regina looked down the hill. “Do you remember when I ran down your runaway horse?” she asked. “Do you remember when I saved your life?”
“Of course,” said Snow. “It all looks the same.”
“Not quite,” Regina said. “This is new.”
Snow looked to where Regina was pointing—a mound of grass with a simple marker. She realized what it was. “A grave?” she asked.
“A grave,” Regina repeated. “Daniel’s grave.”
“Daniel?” Snow asked, suddenly realizing the true extent of what she had done as a child. “I thought he ran away.”
“Ran away? I told you that to spare your feelings. Out of… kindness,” Regina spat. “But he died. Because of you.”
Years. It had been years that she’d assumed that Daniel was somewhere safe. This changed everything.
“I’m… so sorry,” Snow said. “I was very young, and your mother—”
“—ripped his heart out in front of me. Because of you. Because you couldn’t keep a secret.”
“And you,” said Snow, “killed my father, and took him from me. Haven’t we both suffered enough?”
“No,” said the Queen.
The word hung in the air between the two women. After a moment, then, Regina withdrew a red apple from a black satchel. “Did you know that apples stand for health and wisdom?” she said, admiring it.
Snow did not like the look of the apple. Not one bit. “Why do I think it would kill me if I ate it?” Snow said warily.
“It won’t kill you,” said Regina. “No, what it will do is far worse. Your body will be your tomb, and you’ll be in there with nothing but the dreams formed of your own regrets.” The Queen smiled at the apple.