This is a kinda sorta sequel to Then, Snow but it stands alone. In my head they happen in the same universe. Takes place post Shattered Sight and post season 4b.

Later, when Henry gathers enough courage to ask what happened to her under the curse, Regina will tell him only that when the curse lifted Mary Margaret cracked first, but the truth is Regina already had that incredulous grin stretching across her face when the first giggle slipped from his grandmother's mouth, and David wasn't far behind, holding onto the bars of

the cell for support as the laughter infected him as well.

She'll tell him how she held her stomach and dropped onto the blue couch next to the holding cell, unable to stop the hysterical laughter welling up and out of her, but leave out the part where she kept thinking they were lucky, oh so lucky, that the curse hadn't - that she hadn't - done any permanent damage to anyone or anything.

Lucky she was thirty years out of practice with a sword.

Lucky Mary Margaret was still a better shot with a bow.

Lucky magic was unpredictable here and had regressed her into a farce instead of the actual Evil Queen, or she'd have been standing over two dead bodies and a sleeping infant (she refuses to think of the other possibility).

She'll give Henry the highlights while Robin is upstairs, tucking Roland in bed for the second time that night, will tell him about Mary Margaret's I only have to hit you once and David's comment about buying the stroller used, show him the tiny scar on the back of her neck near her hairline where she'd been cut by a piece of glass worse than she'd realized and hadn't healed it in time to prevent the mark, but the violence of their encounter, the seductive intensity of the rage reawakened inside her and the fear soaked aftermath she'll keep to herself.

He won't be satisfied by the sanitized version of events. He can tell when she's lying now, but she refuses to divulge anything further, sends him upstairs to finish his homework with a kiss on the forehead (won't be long before he's trying to duck out of those, he's already started to shrug away from her fussing in public, though not at home, thankfully) and a promise to bring up a sandwich later.

Once he's gone, she'll sit at the kitchen island and pick an apple from the ever present bowl on the counter, turning the red fruit over and over in her hands, pressing against the flesh to check its ripeness, and she will remember.

She should be used to the feel of a curse breaking by now, the jolt of magic moving through her body like a static charge raising the fine hairs on her body, bringing with it clarity and soundness of mind. She drops her sword, stumbles forward as Mary Margaret releases her, and everything that's happened feels like it's happened to someone else as she watched from a distance, but her hand is sore from gripping the hilt of the sword, despite her leather gloves, and when she looks down at her clothes glass showers down from underneath her collar.

"What am I wearing?"

The Evil Queen's affectations have played hell with her vocal chords.

She's standing in the ruins of the sheriff's office with her dark makeup and Enchanted Forest regalia pinching and scooping her body into the shape of someone as alien to her as the costume is to this world, and Mary Margaret is laughing at her, at them, at everything, and Regina can't help but follow suit.

God, this is absurd.

She tries to even out her breathing and keep the hysteria at bay long enough to focus on restoring her modern clothing, taking a deep gulp of air once she's banished the ridiculous guise back to her vault.

Mary Margaret walks over to the cell and pats David on the shoulder through the bars. "Regina, a little help, please? Emma probably still has the keys."

Regina waves her hand and the door swings open. David is still on the floor, leaning against the bars, and he tries to pull his wife to the floor with him when she holds out her hand to help him up. Regina steps over to the stroller, checks that the prince is still sleeping (oh, if only Henry had slept like this) and then picks her way around the debris from the duel, heading for the hallway.

The ladies restroom is a small two stall affair with tan squares tiling the walls and floor. Regina stalks over to the sink and runs cold water into the basin. Her hands shake as she scoops water into her mouth and splashes her face. She can feel a large bruise forming on her shoulder where she'd broken through the glass and the sting of tiny cuts on her neck where her collar brushes against them, but the physical damage is, thankfully, minimal. Inconsequential.

In the hallway she can hear Mary Margaret calling her name. Never a moment's peace. She tugs a few paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and presses them to her face. The bathroom door opens a crack and Mary Margaret's head appears in the gap.

"Regina? You ok?"

"I'm fine," Regina says, crumpling the paper towels in her hands.

"Are you sure? I did push you through a glass door."

Regina raises an eyebrow at her in the mirror. "I've endured far worse than that, dear."

"Right," Mary Margaret says, sliding all the way into the bathroom. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't." Regina turns around and holds her hands up, still clutching the damp paper towels. "If anyone is going to apologize, it should be Emma."

"What does Emma have to do with this?"

"You think I didn't take precautions against something like this happening?"

"Still failing to see where Emma comes into this," Mary Margaret says, gesturing between them.

Regina shakes her head. "I sealed myself in my vault with light magic."

"You couldn't lower the spell under the curse, but Emma could, and she did, didn't she," Mary Margaret says, leaning back against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. "But why? She knew how important it was to keep you away from everyone else."

"As always, Ms. Swan failed to think before acting." She tosses the used paper towels into the steel trashcan near the door. "She needed my help removing the ribbons from herself and the Ice Queen, and once she'd spurred me into a murderous rage, fled and forgot to lock the door on her way out."

"I'm sure she didn't mean for you to get out."

"But I did," Regina says, leaning forward, pointing at herself. "Whether she intended to or not, she set me loose on the town. One day she's going to do something without thinking it through and it's going to be someone else who pays the price besides me, someone who won't be able to take the hit and stand up again."

A knock on the door stops Mary Margaret from responding. "Everything ok in there?" David asks from outside.

"Fine," both women say.

Regina takes a breath, holds it, releases it. "If this curse had worked as intended, if I'd come in here as something other than that caricature of who I was, then you wouldn't be standing here, and neither would David or Neal. I could have killed you all. I could have killed Henry."

And I would have never forgiven myself.

God, she's going to cry just thinking about the possibility.

"Oh, Regina," Mary Margaret says, grabbing her hand and squeezing.

"It didn't happen," Regina acknowledges. "It could have, but it didn't." She lets go of Mary Margaret's hand, gently so she's not offended, but she doesn't really want to be touched right now, not with fear and anger still swirling inside her.

"Let's go find our children."

They exit the bathroom and find David leaning against the wall in the hallway checking his phone while pushing the stroller back and forth with his foot. "Still no word from Emma yet," he says, snapping the phone shut.

"We're going to pick up Henry and then we can find her," Mary Margaret says, taking the stroller from her husband.

"Sounds like a plan," he says. "Where is he?"

"In my office. He should still be there."

"Let's hope he didn't get ticked at you while under the spell and trash the place," David says, putting a hand on Regina's upper back as she steps out in front of him.

"I hadn't even though of that," Regina says. "I hope you remembered to lock the important filing cabinets when you were in there last."

"Which ones are important?" he asks.

"I can feel you rolling your eyes from back here, Regina," Mary Margaret says as she wheels the stroller down the handicap access ramp. "And yes, I did."

"They're all important, David. That's why they're in my office."

The walk to city hall is short. Once they reach the double door entrance to the building Regina runs the rest of the way, calling out for Henry. She stops short of her office. "No.".

"What's wrong?" David asks, jogging to a stop next to her.

"My spell. It's not active. I sealed the room with a protection spell."

The lights are off but sunlight streams through the windows. His backpack is gone (good, he wouldn't have left it behind if he'd had a choice) and the room seems in order.

"Maybe Emma's already been here," David says. "She broke through the one around your vault so we know she's capable."

"You heard that?" Regina asks.

He shrugs. "Bathrooms echo."

"If Emma was here, she should have called to let me know she'd found him."

Sunlight glitters off something on the floor, and Regina walks closer to the open door. Henry's marbles are scattered across the threshold, just like one of the traps from that movie he'd watched until the VCR mangled the tape beyond repair. She sweeps a few stray marbles back into the office with her foot. Why would he have left these?

She rests her hand on the door frame, but pulls it back immediately, hissing as her palm begins to sting and itch.

"What's wrong?" Mary Margaret asks, pushing the stroller into the hallway.

"Emma wasn't here. Someone else brought down my spell," Regina says as blotchy red patches fade from her skin. She rubs her hands together, trying to rid herself of the magic's residue.

"Who would want to get Henry?"

"I don't know. We need to find him, now."

"Regina, look."

She follows David's voice and sees him pointing at the wall near the doorway. A smear of blood pops against the white drywall. Her gut clenches. Henry's that tall now, isn't he? He's growing up so fast, but he's still just a boy and she'd left him here alone against whoever had come after him, and it's all her fault. The only reason someone would go after Henry would be to get to her. "Let's go."

They set off down Main Street at a good clip. If Henry had gone of his own volition, or gotten to safety somewhere else, he'd head back their way as soon as he was able. If not, then whoever had taken him would pay. No, no, if someone had taken him while under the curse they weren't responsible for their actions, just as she wasn't responsible for hers. But oh, the instinct to raze the town to find her baby boy is difficult to suppress, and it's not the Evil Queen begging to be released, but a mother worried for her child, and she's not sure which one is scarier at this moment.

"Emma!" Charming yells.

Throngs of people are clustered in the middle of the road ahead, hugging and reconciling in the aftermath. The ice queen, the savior, and the annoying, perky woman who'd been in the station with the Charmings are walking arm in arm down the street toward them. Emma breaks free and runs into David's embrace, and Regina can't help smiling despite the small kernel of anger at the young woman's carelessness still burrowing in her chest. She knows the keening pain of a child not recognizing who you are, and this moment, Emma running toward them, initiating the bone crushing hug is a big deal for the Charmings.

Her smile fades after a moment, though. Deep down she'd hoped Henry was with Emma, and

the need to find him is starting to make her nerves jangle.

"Mom!"

Oh.

Regina whirls around, the tension she's carried for the last week shattering when she says his name, Henry, as he runs toward her from the woods. He tackles her in a hug that spins them around (she used to be the one to spin them, lifting him under the arms when he ran to her, his four year old body still light enough to swing up to her hip) and she breathes easy for the first time in days as he greets the rest of his family.

Her boy is safe. Their family is safe. She is safe. And the prince is finally awake, gurgling and making wet baby noises in the stroller as his parents kiss in the street. No one is paying any attention to her, save Henry, so she steps to the side and tickles Neal's cheeks, smiling when his chubby hand latches onto her fingers. I will never hurt you, she promises him silently. She rubs her thumb against the back of his hand and disentangles herself before someone notices.

Henry is giving her that look he's picked up sometime in the year she was away, the one where he knows something she thinks he doesn't know, and she squeezes his shoulders and wrinkles her nose at him. He just smiles and hugs her tighter as the snow falls around them.

Robin will interrupt her brooding with the gentle clearing of his throat, taking the apple from her restless hands and slicing it with his pocket knife, handing her every other piece as he cuts oblong chunks so unlike the precise slivers she uses when baking.

He won't ask what she's thinking about, will know from the way she's rubbing the scar on her neck where her mind is lingering. When the apple is gone he'll throw the core in the compost bin and walk up behind her, brushing her hair back with one hand as his other pulls her fingers away from her neck, and he'll drop a gentle kiss on the scar and whisper reassurances in her ear until she believes him enough to turn in her chair and grace him with a smile.

There you are, he'll say, weaving his fingers through her hair, and if he leads her upstairs to remind her of all the reasons why she is good and deserving of love in the privacy of their bedroom, well, Henry will understand. He knows how to make his own sandwich.