It was 12:37 p.m in The Enchanted Forest. And time here worked the same as it did back in Storybrooke. Regina had checked.
Right now, Emma and Henry were probably having lunch. He would probably ask for a hamburger and a milkshake, and she would probably have a sandwich and fries.
Regina could see them pulling over at a gas station in little while. Emma would buy a map and a cup of coffee. Henry would beg her for a bag of chips and a candy bar and she would scold him because they just had lunch. Maybe he'd be able to convince her to let her buy them if he promised to eat something healthy for dinner. Maybe he wouldn't.
They'd probably stop once or twice along their way and spend the night in hotels. Or were they even going that far? Maybe by tomorrow morning they'd be apartment hunting back in Boston. Or maybe they were headed for Manhattan. Or worse…Tallahassee.
As of about two hours ago, the beautiful town Regina had created thirty years ago was gone. Granny's. Town Hall. The mausoleum that contained her potions and magic, her parents' remains, her hearts. Her house. Her bedroom and closet and mirrors. Henry's bedroom. His clothes. His books and comic books and old homework assignments and toys and baby toys and blankets and pillows and that awful Once Upon A Time book Regina had spent two years resisting the urge to burn. Now she'd give anything to have just that one thing back. That thing her son had treasured so much.
But the memories weren't gone. They were hers to hold on to. And now they were also Emma's. She'd given Emma the time that she first held Henry in her arms. And the time that Henry had cried for two days nonstop and she'd felt like the worst mother in the world until she'd promised to do anything for him if he calmed down and miraculously, he did. His first step, his first word, his first birthday, his first day of school. The time he'd tried to pick one of the roses outside her house and accidentally hurt himself on a thorn. The nights he'd crawled out of his toddler bed and in with her and fallen asleep on her chest or with his head on her lap. The morning she'd been trying to make apple turnovers and he hadn't been feeling well so she'd had to carry him on her hip around the kitchen the whole time. The afternoons they'd spent apple picking every fall and he'd put a great deal of effort into choosing the one he wanted eat right then. The time she'd taken him on a picnic near the toll bridge and he'd insisted on taking off his shoes and socks and sitting at the edge of the river with his feet dangling in the water. He'd fallen in and been completely submerged in lake water for about twenty seconds before she'd managed to grab his hand and pull him up. It was the most terrifying twenty seconds of her life.
Emma had all of those memories now, and they were every bit as sharp and real to her as they were to Regina. All eleven and a half years with Henry. Every diaper, every fever, every tantrum, every kiss, every hug, every "I love you Mommy". No curses. No magic. No major regrets. The only positive moments with Henry Regina had kept to herself were all the times she'd called Henry her little prince. That was too precious to give anyone. Even Emma.
Even Emma.
"You love her, too."
Regina nearly jumped out of her seat. It took a moment for her mind to register the person who'd said that. Most of the former denizens of Storybrooke were gathered in an open field a few feet away listening to Snow and Charming's big speech about rebuilding and taking back their land. She had come into this tiny, filthy abandoned cottage to be alone with her thoughts. She'd had no idea that he'd followed her inside. And certainly no desire to converse with him. Especially not about this.
"Don't try and deny it," Neal continued. "I saw it in your eyes when you said goodbye to her. When you gave her Henry."
Regina closed her eyes and pursed her lips, hoping Neal had no idea what she was thinking right now. She hated that he'd figured out as much as he already had. Much as she'd wished she could say she'd only done what she did for Henry's happiness, she'd done it as much for Emma's. The thought that another woman had everything she was supposed to have with Henry should have hurt like hell. Instead, it was her only consolation.
"Why didn't you just cross the town line, Regina?" Much to her distaste, Neal sat down next to her. His brown eyes gazed at her gently. Too gently. She'd never cared for Neal. He seemed to her to be incapable of intentionally and directly causing harm to another living creature. That was what made him kind. But that was also what made him weak. Too weak to love Emma the way she deserved to be loved, in Regina's opinion. "You could have left with Emma and Henry and gone anywhere you wanted."
"If I'd done that, the rest of you would be cursed," she reminded him.
"You cursed them all before. Who in this realm could you possibly care about protecting? Me? The two idiots? Your son's back in the other world with the woman you love, your parents are dead…"
Regina finally met his gaze with a hard, cold, stare. In one breath he had managed to convey that he was only trying to understand where she was coming from and that there was no way he ever could. "I could say the same about you, son-of-the-dark-one. If you love Emma and Henry so much, why didn't you stay with them?"
"You never would have let me do that. If I'd crossed that line you'd have made sure I forgot I ever knew either of them."
Regina didn't look away but didn't say anything either, because he was right. The only way she would have let Neal remember Emma and Henry would be if Emma had specifically asked her to. And there was no way Emma would have been ready to commit herself to him, or to his memory, indefinitely. Maybe not ever, and certainly not two hours ago.
"What are you doing here?" Regina finally asked, a little bit less sharply than she'd intended, her pain creeping through the mask for once. A cacophony of applause erupted outside. Apparently whatever plan the Charmings' had scraped together was being met with approval.
"I came to see if you wanted to come with me," said Neal. "Emma's parents may be content with moving on and starting a new life with their replacement kid, but I'm not. I'm either going to get back to Emma and Henry, or I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying."
"I'll have you know they have no idea who you are," Regina informed him curtly. "Emma thinks she got pregnant drunk behind a bar and can't picture his face or voice or anything else, and Henry, well, I can imagine he still thinks you're dead."
"I'm not going to try and make them remember who they are, or who I am," said Neal. "I'm going to try to get to know them all over again. I want to rejoin my family."
"If that's what you want, then why are you asking me to come with you?" She was becoming increasingly frustrated. "Does the thought of a little competition excite you? If that's the case, then why don't you just bring the pirate?"
Neal looked away and let out a slight chuckle in spite of the overall situation. "Hook? 'Competition'? Even without her memories there's no way Emma would ever go for him. Not even if she wanted nothing to do with either of us."
Regina closed her eyes tightly for a moment. The thought of Emma and Henry seeing her and not recognizing her hurt even more than the thought of never seeing them again. Would she put herself through that if she thought there was a chance they really needed her? Of course. But they didn't. She'd made sure of that.
"And no, of course that's not the reason I want you along," Neal pressed. "I want you to come with me because Henry needs all of his parents in his life. Even if he never thinks of us as his parents again, we know how much we love him. As for Emma, we'll find a way for her to get to know both of us. She'll get to choose between us on her own terms. If she chooses you, I promise I won't keep going after her as long as you let me spend time with Henry, and I ask that you make the same promise if she chooses me." He looked at Regina expectantly, like a puppy hoping his owner was about to wander in the general vicinity of the treat bucket.
"It doesn't matter," Regina finally said. "You're not getting back to that land. It took your father centuries to find a way there. What makes you think you'll live long enough just because you really want to?"
"It's because of what my father has done that I may have a way."
"What way is that?" Neal tried to read Regina's expression. Maybe a touch apprehensive, but certainly interested at least.
"You'll see if you come with me," Neal promised. "Can you poof us to where he lived?"
Regina hesitated. Chances were that Neal didn't actually have a way to get back to the other world. But if he somehow did, she would have to go along to make sure he failed. There was no way she was letting him or anything else ruin the happy ending she'd created for her family. Honorable as Neal's intentions may be, Emma didn't need him. And Henry didn't need some father he didn't remember who hadn't known he'd existed for the first eleven years of his life.
"I'll go with you to Rumpelstiltskin's mansion. But we'll have to walk." She didn't feel like using magic right now, and the longer this journey took, the better.
Neal hesitated. "Okay." He held out his hand and Regina took it and shook it firmly, though she wasn't sure why. In his mind they'd apparently made some sort of deal. But Regina had never been one to make good on her deals, other than with Rumpelstiltskin because he'd put them in writing.
Regina and Neal exited the cottage. She paused for a brief moment to watch Charming comfort a young couple with a one-year-old daughter as Snow enthusiastically talked to some soldiers about the best place to set up whatever they had planned. They both looked so disgustingly happy. Did they even remember that they'd just lost their daughter forever?
"This way," Regina said, leading Neal in the direction of a path she knew well. She was surprised it was still there. It would take her in the direction of the dark one's castle, but not without a few twists and turns.
"Neal? Where are you going?" Neal turned around. The only person who had noticed them walking away was Belle.
"My father's house," said Neal.
"Can I come with you?" Belle pleaded. It was obvious that she was still putting in a considerable effort not to cry.
"Of course," said Regina. She motioned for the other woman to follow. She knew what it was like to watch the love of her life die and not have anyone bother to help her get through it. She didn't say anything, though, because empathy had never been the best color on her. Maybe that was why she didn't deserve Emma and Henry, and was finally willing to admit she never had.
That was why she hadn't stayed with them.

Henry rifled through his backpack. He had his comic books, his water bottle, his snacks, his notebook, and his pens and pencils. He had a small photo album full of his school pictures and some pictures of himself with Emma. There was one of the day she brought him home from the hospital. There was one of himself as a toddler hiding behind Emma as she trimmed some rosebushes, and another one of him curled up on Emma's lap asleep in her bed with her. There was one of her carrying him around the kitchen while she was trying to make apple pancakes. There was one of Emma giving him a boost so he could pick an apple from an apple tree. And there was one of her holding him wrapped in a towel after that time he'd fallen in a lake and almost drowned.
"I feel like I'm forgetting something," said Henry.
"Me too," Emma admitted. She pulled the car to a stop at the next red light and quickly checked her purse. She had all her basic necessities plus a framed photo of herself with Henry taken three years ago, her arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders and a grin on his face. Nothing was missing. "Check the suitcases, will you?"
Henry leaned over and unzipped his mother's suitcase. He found all of her clothes, plus her old baby blanket with her name embroidered on it and a pouch full of jewelry. His own suitcase had all his clothes in it and a handful of action figures.
"I think we have everything," said Henry. Emma breathed a sigh of relief, then turned on the radio.

She lives in a fairy tale
Somewhere too far for us to find
Forgotten the taste and smell
Of a world that she's left behind
It's all about the exposure, the lens, I told her
The angles are all wrong now
She's ripping wings off of butterflies
Keep your feet on the ground
When your head's in the clouds

Emma pressed a button. Henry looked up. "Why did you change the station?"
"I don't think I like that song very much, kid." It had filled her with an unexplained feeling of overwhelming sadness very quickly.
Henry smiled. Then he pulled out his notepad and pen and began to draw.
"Hey, Mom?" he asked half an hour later. They were on the highway now. "Do you like my picture?"
Emma took her eyes away from the road long enough to glance at Henry's drawing. It was of a beautiful woman wearing a navy shirt and black pants. She had a tear running down her cheek and a look of love in her eyes.
"That's beautiful, Henry."
"Thanks. It's not finished yet."
"Where did you get the idea for it?"
Henry shrugged. "I guess I just randomly came up with it."
Emma smiled. Then she glanced at the drawing again. "Why did you draw her in my shirt?" Henry shrugged again. He hadn't even realized that he'd drawn Emma's shirt until she'd said that.
Half an hour later, he said, "Look, now it's done."
Emma looked down. He'd added more detail to the woman's hair and facial expression, but he'd also added wings and a crown.
"That's really amazing, kid. It's the best thing you've ever drawn. Is she supposed to be a queen?"
"Yup. A swan queen."