Thank you to all of you! Especially Rebekah, who gave me the EXACT right word;)

The spells herein are from Disney's "Sleeping Beauty."

Enjoy!

VVVVV

CHAPTER EIGHT

"What happened?" Charming echoed his wife's question, much more intently, put his food down and came around the bar.

"My mother happened," Regina bit out.

"What? Where?" Snow asked, coming around to join her husband. Charming squatted down by Killian's head, scanning him over. Snow did the same.

"Mom, you're covered with blood!" Henry said, hopping down off his stool and hurrying up to her.

"I'm fine, honey, really," Regina managed to force a smile for him, reached out and caressed his soft face. The look in his bright eyes, however, showed her he wasn't convinced.

"I missed you, sweetie," she whispered. He smiled at her.

"Missed you too."

She gazed at him a moment longer, then made herself turn back to Snow and Charming.

"My mother wanted me to kill him," she began. "But when I started wondering about the reason, I decided against it. I took him to a place where I have hidden before—a little cottage in the woods. I healed him."

"His hand too," Charming remarked. Snow started, then gazed down at Killian's left hand.

"Oh…my goodness," she breathed.

"He was honest with me," Regina said plainly, trying to force back a lump in her throat. "He told me that my mother had only asked for my forgiveness after she'd tried to take everything from me. After she'd framed me for—"

"Yeah, we know," Henry cut in, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "You didn't kill Archie."

Regina stared at him.

"You knew?"

"Archie came back," Snow said. "Told us everything. We tried to find you, to make amends, but…" She shrugged sadly, glancing at Regina.

A tremor ran through Regina's form. She couldn't speak.

"Then what happened?" Charming pressed. Regina focused on him.

"Killian realized he had been used as well, as a pawn to get rid of Rumpelstiltskin." Regina's mouth hardened. "My mother must have been listening to us. Almost as soon as we had spoken, she attacked us."

The others grew solemn, listening. Regina went on.

"She blew the house apart. Then she went after Killian."

"Why?" Henry wondered.

"He's a liability," Charming surmised. "A loose end."

Henry frowned. But he didn't say anything.

"I fought her," Regina said. "She caught me off guard with one spell, then attacked Killian again, this time with a Killing Curse. I tried to counter it with…something." She sighed, and shook her head. "I can't remember what it was. But it connected with my mother's curse and caused an explosion. I just woke up a few hours ago, and I found him like this." Regina gestured to Killian with her free left hand. The other still gripped his fingers. "I've tried everything. Every spell and counter-spell that I know of."

"Have you tried true love's kiss?"

Regina blinked. She turned, and stared at Henry. Henry looked back at her, open and hopeful.

"What?" Regina breathed.

Charming laughed.

"Henry, she's only known him for a couple days—"

"So what?" Henry shrugged. "It happens all the time, especially where you guys are from. Like in Sleeping Beauty. Haven't you heard of Sleeping Beauty?"

All three adults stared at him, discomfort tightening their frames.

"It'll work!" Henry insisted, facing Regina. "You wouldn't have fought your mother to protect him if you didn't love him. You wouldn't have."

"Henry, that's enough," Snow warned gently, reaching out to take him by the arm. "Things like this are delicate—you can't just assume—"

"She said she's tried everything else," Henry cut her off. "You really think that we're going to come up with some other way that she doesn't know about?"

Regina swallowed hard. All of a sudden, the room felt like it was tipping.

"Watch out," Charming moved, falling forward onto his knees so he knelt beside her. He took hold of her elbow with one hand, then wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Snow, let's get her to Henry's bed," he advised. "Then we can put Killian on our bed."

Regina tried to protest. She didn't need help…

But her mouth stopped working, and her vision darkened until she lost consciousness.

VVVVV

Regina awoke to the soothing sound of low humming. She opened her eyes, and gazed up at a dark, antique ceiling.

She was wrapped in softness and warmth. The caked blood on her face had been wiped clean. She sighed, and turned her head. It rested on a white pillow. She glanced over.

Snow White sat alone in a rocking chair, doing needlepoint. It was still night. A single standing lamp illuminated Snow's work. And an old book lay in her lap. Henry's book. She hummed to herself. A very old melody. One Regina barely remembered...

Regina sat up. The bed squeaked. She went still.

Snow glanced at her, smiled briefly. Then looked back down at her needlework and kept humming.

Uncertain, Regina stayed where she was for a long time. Echoes of memories rose up in her mind. Sitting beside a broad fire in a deep castle, the scent of duck and pheasant and boiled potatoes wafting through the great stone hall. Leaning back in an armchair, gazing into the flames, absently listening as Snow White hummed that selfsame tune, while tilting her head and pulling her needle up and down, up and down through the flawless fabric…

Regina's breathing slowed as her attention drifted toward the younger woman. Snow White must have been the one to tend to her, clean her, drape the blankets over her as she slept…

Regina braced herself, pushed the covers off, slipped out of bed and stood up. She took a few steps toward Snow, clasping her hands in front of her.

"Where is he?"

Snow looked up at her.

"He's on our bed, over there," she pointed to the opposite end of the room. Regina turned to look. Killian lay on top of the covers, as motionless as before.

"Charming took Henry on a walk," Snow continued softly. "It's late, but Henry was restless. We didn't want to disturb you."

Regina nodded—the only thanks she could muster. She squeezed her hands together and swallowed.

"Do you mind if I go to him?"

Startled, Snow frowned up at her.

"Of course not."

Regina held her gaze for a moment, then nodded again, folded her arms and crossed the floor. Her bare feet still hurt. Her bones ached. She paused at the iron-wrought foot of his bed and gazed down upon him.

The little lamp on the side table touched half of his form, leaving the rest in soft shadow. He breathed steadily. His eyes did not move beneath his eyelids. Regina's eyebrows drew together hard, and she bit back a surge of pain.

Snow's humming ceased. The rocking chair creaked. Soft feet padded slowly toward Regina.

Snow drew up beside her. Regina did not turn, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Snow held something in both hands.

"I don't want to bother you," Snow whispered. "But I promised Henry that I would show you something when you woke up."

Regina didn't move. Snow hesitated, then opened what she held. Henry's book. The old pages rustled like autumn leaves as she turned them.

"He said something about Sleeping Beauty," Snow said, still very softly. "Have you heard of a Princess Aurora? I actually met her, and…" Snow trailed off, then shifted. "Anyway, in the beginning of the story, an evil fairy curses baby Aurora because she wasn't invited to the feast. Here's what she says:

'Listen well, all of you.

The princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty

Beloved by all who know her.

But before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday,

She shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel

And die.'"

Chills ran down Regina's spine. But she showed nothing on her face—just arched an eyebrow.

"Sounds like something I would do."

Snow, undaunted, turned the page.

"But there was still a good fairy that hadn't given a gift to the princess yet," she went on. "And here's what she said:

'Sweet princess,

If through this wicked witch's trick

A spindle should your finger prick,

A ray of hope there still may be in this,

The gift I give to thee:

Not in death, but just in sleep,

The fateful prophecy you'll keep.

And from this slumber you shall wake,

When true love's kiss the spell shall break.'

Regina straightened. Her eyes unfocused, and her mind raced.

"Now, I don't know a lot about magic," Snow admitted, closing the book. "But this sounds similar to what happened to him. A Killing Curse mixed with a counter spell and put him into a Sleeping Curse! And if something like that happens, this is a clear example that true love's kiss—"

"No," Regina shook her head. "Love is weakness."

Snow stopped.

"Who told you that?"

Regina didn't answer. Snow's voice hardened.

"Was it your mother?" she demanded. "Because you of all people should realize that that's a bold-faced lie."

Regina turned to her, eyes flashing. But Snow's gaze burned just as bright.

"Tell me, Regina," she challenged. "Can you think of any enchantment, any curse, any incantation that the power of true love cannot break?" She shook her head. "No, you can't. Because it isn't weakness." She quieted her voice. "It's the most powerful magic of all."

Regina's whole body chilled. But she couldn't break Snow's gaze.

Snow's features softened, and her brow furrowed earnestly.

"You said yourself that nothing else has worked," she murmured. "Isn't this at least worth a try?"

Regina stood still. And sudden terror paralyzed her every limb. Snow offered her a smile, and touched her arm.

"I'll leave you alone." And she rustled back toward her rocking chair, sat down, and continued to sew.

The place where Snow had touched her arm shot a pang through her. Regina swallowed hard, and turned back to Killian.

For what felt like an age, she stood completely still, arms folded, watching the rise and fall of his chest. In the background, Snow rocked and sewed and hummed. The old building fell quiet otherwise.

Regina, her eyes never leaving Killian, took a breath to say something, to beg his forgiveness again…

Stopped herself. She couldn't bear to have Snow hear her.

Soundlessly, Regina stepped forward. She eased silently up to his right side, and glanced across his frame. He kept breathing. Kept sleeping.

The side of Regina's leg touched the side of the bed. She held out her right hand, slowly reaching down toward him. Her palm hovered over his heart.

She hesitated.

Her thoughts stilled. She gazed down into his face.

For an eternal moment, she stood, completely still.

She lowered her hand, and rested it on the tattered material between two buttons on his coat.

He didn't move.

Regina sank down, sat on the bed beside his arm. Words sprang to the forefront of her mind again—she painfully stopped them.

She ground her teeth, trembling as she memorized the sight of his lamplit face.

She let out a heavy breath.

"Why not?" she muttered harshly, a tear falling…

She slipped her hand up and slid it around his neck. In the same movement, she bent down toward his face, involuntarily taking in the scent of brine and earth and leather…

Her nose brushed his. She closed her eyes.

She pressed her lips to his.

And she forgot where she was.

Everything around her faded to nonexistence. She ran her thumb across his rough jawline, tasting as her tear trailed onto their lips…

He moved.

Regina didn't even have time to open her eyes.

He sat up, fiercely wrapping his arms around her waist.

She gasped—he frantically freed his right hand, slid it around the back of her head and kissed her in return—hard, deep. Regina couldn't breathe. She instantly lost her balance.

His mouth broke sharply from hers. Her eyes flew open.

He stared back at her, just two inches away, breathing raggedly.

"Regina?"

"Yes," she choked, eyes wide. He didn't let go, didn't pull back. Her hands shakily settled on his shoulders.

"Where am I?" he asked, his vivid eyes searching hers.

"In Storybrooke," Regina managed to answer. "In the house of…of Snow White, and her prince."

He let out a deep sigh—of powerful relief, it seemed—and he pulled her closer, closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. His warmth threatened to drown her.

"I had the most…terrible dream," he murmured. "I was standing in the wood, outside the burned cottage. And you were lying there in front of me. I thought you were dead." His left arm tightened around her. His right hand wove through her hair. "But when I knelt down and felt your heart—you were alive!" Regina felt his sudden smile. Her brow twisted. She couldn't stop her tears now, even for Snow White.

"But you wouldn't wake up, no matter what I did. I nearly went mad—I shouted for help. Some people from Storybrooke answered me," Killian went on. "They came running through the woods. A young man, and a boy. Asked me what happened. I told them. The boy wanted me to kiss you. He promised me it would work." Killian swallowed. "I told him it couldn't. 'Only true love's kiss breaks spells, boy,' I told him. 'She doesn't love me.'"

Regina opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Killian pulled in another breath, still leaning his forehead against hers.

"But the young man with the boy—he was stubborn about it. He said, 'Why not give it a try? What have you got to lose?' So I…I bent down next to you, asked you to forgive a presumptuous scoundrel, and…" He backed up, and gazed at her. "I had no sooner touched your lips than you sat up and I threw my arms around you…" He smiled crookedly, briefly. "And I found myself here." He swallowed, his brow furrowing intently. "I was the one who was cursed, wasn't I?"

"I don't know," Regina admitted honestly, quietly bewildered.

"But you kissed me," he ventured, barely above a whisper. "You came to me and kissed me."

"Yes. I did," Regina breathed, her vision clouding again. For just a moment, Killian studied her face.

Then, he took her head in his hands and met her mouth with his.

She instantly got lost. She drew her arms around his neck as he bound his arms around her and crushed her to his chest. They kissed over and over, moving as if they knew each other's every intention, each taste and touch more thrilling and heart-pounding than the one before. Regina's balance reeled, her thoughts scattered. She barely noticed a distant bursting noise and faraway thudding.

Until Killian's fervor slowed, his lips lingered on hers, then parted, and he glanced past her.

"I'd be delighted to continue this, my love, but…" he sighed and raised his eyebrows. "It appears we have an audience."

Regina twisted around, still in his arms, to see Charming and Henry—both breathing hard—standing next to Snow White. Who was smiling. And crying at the same time. Charming shifted, trying to calm his panting, glancing across them.

"It worked," he decided. Regina frowned.

"What worked?"

"Wait. I know you," Killian pointed at them. "You're the gentlemen I met in the woods."

"We kinda met you in the woods," Henry shrugged. "More like your voice and kinda your…outline."

"My what?" Killian frowned.

"You…You must have gotten split somehow!" Snow White realized, her watery gaze darting back and forth between all of them, then resting on Killian. "When the spell hit you!"

"He thought Regina was cursed. We told him true love's kiss would do the trick, whatever was really going on," Charming stated. "Took some convincing, though."

"Same here," Snow White grinned shakily, swiping at her tears. In the old days—or mere hours ago—Regina might have scoffed at her. Now, she couldn't keep from smiling, wiping at her own tears. Killian reached up and brushed them away with his fingertips, then kissed her temple. Regina, weakened, leaned against him.

"So…when are you getting married?"

Henry's voice cut the air. Regina, startled, sat up. Her adopted son smiled innocently at her.

"Married?" she repeated.

"Yeah. That's how all the stories go," he explained. "One of you wakes the other one with true love's kiss, and you get married the next day and live happily ever after."

"Makes sense to me," Killian said in her ear. Her head whipped around. He looked back at her, without a hint of teasing.

"Are you…Are you serious?" Regina tried.

"Quite serious," he nodded.

"What…I mean, what…" Regina stammered, her pulse beginning to race. He never moved.

"Because sometime during the past two days, I fell in love with you."

Regina's heart thudded. Killian shook his head.

"Face first, with no way to catch myself. I didn't even try." He raised his eyebrows. "You've probably noticed this, darling, but whenever I do anything, I do it with reckless abandon. Never look before I leap—it wastes time." He gripped her fingers. "I'm certain you deserve someone far better than me. But I'll be hanged if I give another man a chance to take you. Call it madness, I don't care—I won't let it happen." He paused. "I wouldn't presume any of this, though, unless I had the oddest, slightest feeling that you might feel the same way about me. Which I do." He watched her frankly. "Am I wrong?"

Regina unlocked her chest, and made her lips move.

"No," she whispered.

"Then what say you?" he demanded.

"But…What about…" Regina floundered. "What about my mother? We don't even know where she is! And what about Gold? He'll begun hunting you as he gets back and discovers you're free. It's too dangerous—"

"Danger never stopped these two. I can tell," Killian gestured to Charming and Snow. "How long have you two been married?"

"We're about to celebrate our thirtieth anniversary," Snow said brightly. She then shrugged, almost apologetically. "Though it came a little…quicker than we expected…"

Killian leveled a look at Regina.

"You can't let fear stop you," he murmured. "It'll paralyze you, freeze you in time. There are dangers regardless of where you are or what you're doing. But I'd much rather face them with you than without you." His features gentled. "If you'll have me, that is."

Regina gazed at him a long moment.

Then, she leaned in and kissed him as sweetly as she knew how. His lips softened. He touched her chin with his fingers. She withdrew, her heart still beating hard—but she smiled steadily at him, lifted her eyebrows, and said the first impulsive thing she'd said in many years.

"Why not?"

A flash of genuine, unadulterated delight flashed across his face and lit his eyes. Then, he ducked his head and covered it in rough bravado. Bravado that Regina could now see straight through. She beamed.

"Now, you've listed several problems, all irrelevant, and you forgot the most important one," he said, raising his head again.

"What's that?"

"It's the night before the wedding, and I can still see you."

She regarded him in surprise.

"I didn't take you for a traditionalist, Captain."

"What? I'm a sailor, madam," he frowned. "You'll never meet a more superstitious lot. You never change the name of a ship, you never whistle on board, you should never, never bring a woman on board," he chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You never sail on a Friday, and you never see the bride before the wedding."

Regina gave him an indulgent smile.

"Very well."

"And," he held up a finger. "You're not allowed to kiss me until tomorrow."

Regina's lips parted. She fought to keep her face neutral. Killian's expression became mischievous. He narrowed his eyes.

"Is that going to be difficult for you?"

Regina addressed him with supreme, haughty control.

"Of course not. You?"

He grinned wolfishly at her.

"You don't want to know."

"Little ears!" Snow White sang, sending them a warning smile as she steered Henry by the shoulders.

"Come on, Mom," Henry called, beckoning. "You can come sleep with me in the big bed in the loft."

"Okay, sweetie, I'm coming." Regina stood up, sliding out of Killian's arms. His hand caught hers. She stopped and turned back to him. He looked up at her, all traces of humor gone.

"Just to be certain," he whispered. "I love you."

She squeezed his fingers as her heart fluttered and panged inside her and her head whirled.

"And I love you," she breathed.

He smiled. She returned it.

"Mom, c'mon!"

They let go of each other, and Regina passed a beaming Snow White, an amused Charming, to follow Henry up the stairs. Regina climbed into the broad bed and pulled the blankets over herself while Henry quickly got into his pajamas. Then, he pounced on the bed and scrambled under the covers. Sudden, piercing joy darted through her as he snuggled closer to her, and she wrapped her arm around him.

"Tell me a story," he ordered.

"A story," Regina mused, settling back into the pillows. "Let me see…" She laid her head on the top of his, watching his fingers fiddle with a loose thread on the top of the quilt. She lowered her tone to her best story-telling voice, and began.

"Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a beautiful young woman, who was forced to marry…" she paused. "A pirate."

Henry giggled. Regina grinned.

And from somewhere down below, she heard Killian Jones chuckle.

FIN

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