AN: What can I say? I fell out of the OUAT fandom because of the way the story was heading and the way the dudes running it were…well running it I guess. I'm still not back in the fandom, not really (Season 3 tho wowza) but I've been trying to rewatch the show to give you all that asked for it, more to this story. So buckle in, I'm back. Let's get this done. UNBETA'D.

PS: This may be a very long winded chapter. It's got bits and pieces of episode 1 and 2 in it; and I think maybe some from 3? I'm not sure. Working this story is hard with Emma's background. Trying though! Tell me how it's going so far.

Chapter Six

The Dark Palace
Emma (24 Years Old)
Regina (28 Years Old)

"Tell me more about your world while I work," a voice whispered in her ear, a gentle kiss being placed just below it.

Emma smiled in turn, watching as the sun touched at the peaks of the mountains in the far distance, the village below just stirring, "I've told you everything I can my Queen," she replied, turning as the woman of her affections brushed past her to the large oak table.

Her Queen offered her a gentle smile, sitting down as regally as possible, picking up a quill and pointing the feathery end at her, "Tell me more about these…milkwaves"

The blonde laughed, shaking her head as she lounged down on the chair opposite the table, propping her feet up on the table, swishing her cloak to one side. She picked at the white garb that her powers had decided was a must have accessory in this world. "Microwaves," she replied finally, "And I can't explain them anymore than I already have; you put frozen or cold food in, it comes out warm and cooked. A bit like magic I suppose."

Regina was hunched over her papers, signing one before moving onto the next, ever graceful and ever diligent; she smiled up at her Knight once again, "I must know these things before I visit your world Swan, I will not stand for running around looking like a fool at the most basic of things your people have."

This had not been the first time her Queen had talked of trying to travel to her world; she had magic after all, stronger and better learned magic than Emma's. And secretly the blonde longed for the day she would wake up in her city apartment and find the Queen knocking at her door, dressed in clothes her world had deemed appropriate. She had endless dreams of the things she would show Regina; of all the mundane things the woman would consider magic or completely strange.

"I will be there every step of the way milady, you won't look stupid, I promise," she held her pinkie-finger out over the desk, grinning large as the woman took it with her own and bringing her hand up to press a small kiss to the back of it.

"I know you will be," was murmured against the skin…

"Miss Swan! Open up right now!" a voice in the back of Emma's mind barked at her. She tried to shake it away, content on returning to her previous dream.

And then the knocking at the door started, first soft enough that she could block it out and then increasingly more frequent and loud. Emma groaned. She opened her heavy eyes to stare at the clock. 8:01. 'Right on time' she thought as she pushed herself out of bed; hobbling towards the door as she tried to pull her pants back on, fumbling lamely with the zipper.

When she opened the door and saw the person standing there, she very nearly lost her footing, clutching at the frame with more force than necessary. For only a moment she could have sworn she saw the Evil Queen, fancy dress and hair. And for a moment she was no longer in a dingy backwater towns bed and breakfast; instead she was standing in the hallway of the castle she had come to call home.

And then the verbal tirade started. The images almost instantly being thrown to the side as this worlds Regina accused her of taking her son. Henry. The kid had run away…again. She scratched at her forehead in frustration, glancing over Regina's shoulder to the Huntsman standing off the side, a very pathetically bored look gracing his features. She didn't want to guess how often this must have happened.

"Miss Swan are you even listening?" the woman's voice clawed at her consciousness again.

"Son missing. Blame me. Threats to sue," she waved her hand at the woman, pleased to see the Huntsman duck his head to hide a grin, "I'll help you find him," she leant against the doorframe, "It's a school day right? Have you checked his friends? He's probably-"

"Henry doesn't have friends, he's a bit of…" the woman trailed off, "A bit of a loner"

"Lady every kid has friends. But hey here's an idea, stop clawing at my throat, let me grab my jacket and I'll help you."

An hour and a ransacked kids room and computer later, Emma was standing on the road outside of the Mayor's house, flipping her phone around in her hands. She'd searched the kid's emails and found one of interest, a receipt from the website he had obviously used to find her. She had taken down the credit card information before deleting it; reporting to the woman so like her Queen and yet not, that she had found nothing.

The Huntsman walked up beside her, nearly causing her enough fright to drop her phone. She had learnt his name in this world was Graham, sheriff and self-proclaimed animal rights activist. Emma had nearly snorted in laughter.

"Did you need a lift back to Granny's?" he asked her as headed towards his cruiser.

Emma didn't answer him, instead thinking back to the email, "Hey, who's Mary Margaret Blanchard?"

"Henry's teacher, why?"

She shrugged, "No reason, just saw a few things around his room with her name on them. Good luck hunting, Sherriff" another snort at her own joke was barely suppressed as he nodded at her, driving off down the street.

"Right…Right…Riiiggghhht" she mused, turning in circles before choosing a direction based solely on intuition and started walking, hands dug deep into her pockets.

As she walked she allowed her mind to wander to the Enchanted Forest, bringing up all the faces of anyone she had ever met there. Trying to slot a face into who would make a good teacher. She barked out laughter at the sudden thought of Maleficent teaching. In the end though, as she reached the school parking lot and looked out over the fields, not a single person had come to mind.

A screeching iron gate indicated her arrival as she sauntered across the lot, taking the entrance stairs two at a time. A lovely front desk lady had pointed her in the right direction before she took off down the hallways, reaching the room with the woman's name emblazoned in a copper nameplate on the wall beside it. A stream of children however, she had not been expecting. She yelped and ducked around them to stand inside the classroom. A terrified look graced her features before she scowled at the soft laugh coming from behind her.

"I'm sorry, I've told them time and time again to watch before they burst out of the room, are you alright?"

The voice was foggily recognizable to her. Soft and warm and full of kindness. And when she turned to face the woman it belonged to, she just about thought she would puke puppies. The woman was small, dressed in clothes that looked like they belonged in an old ladies closet, and sported a rather cute pixie styled haircut. Emma half expected her to sprout wings, sprinkle her with fairy dust before fluttering off singing songs that would make animals flock. But of course she could not. This woman was not a fairy. And yet…she did look awfully familiar.

"Mary Margaret Blanchard?" she questioned, composing herself again, arms folded across her chest.

The young woman nodded, curious eyes taking in almost every little feature Emma's face had to offer, "Yes…" she answered tentatively, "Are you here to enrol a child, because that's done down at the-"

Emma snorted in laughter before waving her hand at the woman, "Lady do I really look like I'm on that kind of mission," she dug her hands deep into her pockets again, "Joking. Listen, was half hoping you could tell me where uhh…Henry is. His mother will murder me if I don't find him and apparently you're close enough to the kid to lend him your credit card so…"

She paused, watching the confusion fall on the woman's face before they hurriedly searched their handbag, wrenching out a wallet and sighing, "Clever little boy," she looked back up at Emma, "I'm sorry I don't know what he's doing with my money, but," she grinned slyly, pulling her handbag over her shoulder, "If I were a Knight on a mission to find a little Prince, I'd first be checking his castle."

"You're just going to trust me, just like that?" Emma questioned, searching the woman's face again, "I could be a predator or someone out to get to his mother or…"

"No. No I'm good at telling a person's intent. At least I believe I am, and you…"

"Swan. Emma Swan."

"And you Emma Swan, are a good person with a good heart. Plus," she added grinning slyly again, "I watch a lot of crime shows, bad habit, and everyone knows you wouldn't steal a child after talking to their teacher; it would undoubtedly make you the main suspect."

"We have got to stop meeting like this kid," Emma mused as she climbed the rather worn and down trodden wooden play-castle, "It's getting really old, really fast."

Henry's eyes however never moved to greet hers, instead staying locked on the frozen clock tower in the distance, a fact that escaped Emma until this instant. Time had paused. She wrinkled her nose slightly as she flopped down beside him, wincing as the wood beneath her creaked in protest.

"I thought that if I brought you here, things would change," Henry muttered, squinting hard at the clock, willing it to move with every inch of his existence, "That the final battle would begin and you'd-"

"I'm not fighting any battles, kid" she interrupted, finally tearing her own gaze away from the clock tower to look down at the boy; his hair was being whipped around in the near-icy wind from the shore, small particles of salt clung to his cheeks.

She was momentarily stunned as he turned towards her; his eyes are what caught her off guard. They were so full of truth and belief and vindication that she felt her heart ache.

"Yes you are! It's your destiny! You're the White Knight and you're going to bring back the happy endings,"

There it was. That phrase again. How did he even know about that? Regina was the only one who had ever called her that. Even the Huntsman had called her Swan; "Could you cut it with the curse crap?"

"You don't need to be mean, I know you like me," Henry replied, grinning ear to ear, wiggling on the spot, before calming down again, putting on a face that was far too mature for a child his age, "I know you're just pushing me away because I make you feel guilty; don't feel that, I know you were just trying to give me my best chance."

Emma felt her heart ache again, hanging her head to hide the gulp of air she was forced to take. Yes he was spot on. She had given him up to give him his best chance. What kind of a mother would she be disappearing every few months, weeks sometimes, for hours on end to visit a woman in another world? Finally regaining herself, though it had only been a few seconds she replied, albeit shakily, "How do you know that?"

The book in the kid's hands was suddenly thrust opened to the page he had been reading in the car. The artwork on one page was beautiful, and the calligraphy on the other was more so. Gentle curves and dots and lines. It almost instantly reminded her of the other world. She gazed intently at it, reaching for it with one hand, the other pushing her hair back to get a better look.

"Because it's the same reason Snow White gave you away," Henry supplied as he fingered at the page.

Snow White. She would recognize that name from anyway; besides her childhood cartoons. Enemy of her Queen, and the one who had been instrumental in her downfall into darkness. And the faceless woman adorning the page before Emma; that looked exactly like the fairy-tale woman she had seen on several occasions. Right down to the hair and style of dress. And there, printed in small cursive font on a blanket was her name. 'So that is why Mary Margaret Blanchard look familiar…' she mused to herself, 'My mother though? Hardly. Snow White wouldn't leave a baby on the freeway,' she very nearly laughed at her own thoughts.

"I know the hero never believes at first," Henry spoke again, sliding closer to her, "If they did it wouldn't be a very good story. But it's time you knew. If you need proof, take the book, read it, but," he paused as he grabbed at her chin, twisting her face so he could look into it, "Whatever you do, don't let my Mom see it; it's dangerous. If she finds out…if she finds out it could be very bad."

Emma hummed in response, wriggling her jaw as he let it go again, closing the book on her lap as he slid off the playground.

"So kid," she said, scrambling to her own feet, book clutched tightly in her hands, "What you're trying to tell me, is that everyone here, down to your teacher, who is also apparently my long lost mother," she supplied a snort, laughing around the sadness that had welled up inside of her, "Is a fairy-tale character, trapped by some magical curse and what, I'm some Knight who was sent here to save them," she knew however, even as she spoke the words, that they had to have some kind of truth behind them. How else would a carbon copy of her Queen; the Huntsman even, be here?

"Yes, but like I said, the hero never-" Henry managed to squeeze out before Emma huffed, very nearly throwing the book back at him.

"I'm no hero kid! Now let's go. I have to get you back to your Mom."

"No please, don't take me back there. One week. Please just one week is all I ask! You'll see I'm not crazy. You don't understand, my life sucks here!"

Emma rounded on him as quick as lightning, sadness and anger evident on her features and in her voice, even to the boy barely ten years old, "No you want to know what sucking is? Being left on the side of the freeway. My parents didn't even bother to drop me off at a hospital. I ended up in the foster system and I had a family until I was three, but then they had their own kid, so they sent me back…" she paused, gathering her thoughts and taking a deep breath before leaning down to his height, "Look Regi- your Mom is trying her best. I know it must be hard; but she loves you Henry, and she at least she wants you."

"Your parents didn't leave you on the side of the freeway, that's just where you came through. When Snow White tried to save you from the Evil Queen's, my Mom's curse, she put you into a magical wardrobe. Please. Please just read the book. One week. Please," he pleaded with her one last time, adamant to get at least seven extra days out of her.

The Evil Queen. Curse. Emma's mind flittered about, barely paying attention to the boy in front of her. 'God it really had worked.' This book. This fairy-tale. Was legitimate. At least in the curse aspect of things. But her mother. No. That was still impossible. She'd have known if Snow White had been pregnant. Surely. It would have been the buzz of that world; and the fury of her Queen's.

"Come'on kid. Let's just…get you home," she shook his head at the look on his face, "I'll-I'll think about the week, alright? I'll talk to your Mom…Just let's get you home."

The house was still as big as she remembered it. Still as terrifyingly similar to the woman's personality. As the front door, a shiny black in colour opened to reveal the woman herself, Emma felt her legs falter. Stopping a short distance from the door as Henry scuttled inside; not once making eye contact with his mother.

Emma knew her face looked like one that had been crying not long before and at the slight raise of the woman's eyebrows, she instantly schooled her features.

"Thank you," Regina said, advancing slowly on Emma, stopping just shy of the edge of the porch; her hands were dug into her pockets, dark eyes surveying the blonde as if trying to remember something before shaking the feeling, "Seems he's taken quite the shine to you."

"It's crazy you know," Emma supplied, not moving from her rooted spot on the pavement, "Yesterday was my birthday, and when I blew out the candle on this stupid little cupcake I bought myself; I made a wish," she paused, taking stock of the seemingly permanent raised eyebrow and the cock of the hip, "That I didn't have to be alone on my birthday. And then Henry brought me here and…"

"I hope there's no misunderstanding here, Miss Swan. Me being civil to you is not an invitation back into Henry's life. You made that decision ten years ago. A closed adoption, remember?" the poison in the woman's voice startled Emma into complete silence, a tug that was familiar and yet not pulling at her stomach, "I suggest you remember the laws regarding such a thing and get back into your car and leave this town because if you don't…"

Emma watched with rapt fascination as the woman, suddenly looking very much like her Queen, moved within a few inches of her face, "…I will destroy you, if it is the last thing I do. Goodbye Miss Swan."

As the slender form retreated back up the stairs, Emma felt words forming on her tongue before she had a chance to stop them, watching as the woman freeze at her doorway, "Do you love m- Him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Henry. Do you love him?"

"Of course I love him. Get off my property before I call the Sherriff."

"Alright alright your majesty; I just wanted to be sure."

The door slamming roused Emma from her thoughts; a small grin suddenly adorned her features. That had struck a nerve. But she had to be sure. One hundred percent had to be sure the woman both loved the child; and that she was indeed the Queen of the other world. And as she half-skipped back down the path and out the gate, sparing a glance back at the house she saw the faint outline of the woman in the window, gone as quickly as it had been there.

Oh yes. A week in this stingy backwater town did suddenly sound like an awfully lovely vacation.

AN.2: Gosh long haul of a chapter. Some 3k words. But I thought it'd be nice to a) set things up, and b) make sure my return wasn't on a terrible note. …Well I'm not sure if it still is on a terrible note. Hell this chapter could be terrible. SIGHS DRAMATICALLY. Expect anywhere from 7-14 days before the next chapter. Let's hope for 7. (Let's even hope for less).