So this is me, hijacking Zelena's time travel spell for the gay agenda (thank me with reviews ;) ).

Originally inspired by Swan Queen Week's Day 3 Time Travel prompt, this story will wind up covering all the summer 2015 topics (including, yep, the bed-sharing, the jealousy, best friend romance, and, mmhmm, being trapped together).

The premise: what would happen if Emma and Henry fell through the time travel portal (mid season 4, when Emma and Regina were just starting to become bffls) and they wound up meeting teenage Regina right before she met Daniel? How will Emma's interactions with Regina in the past change Regina in the present? If Regina falls in love with Emma, will she have eyes for Daniel? If she doesn't, will Emma and Henry blink out of existence?

(Fair warning: references to and actual abuse portrayed throughout.)

Storybrooke, Present Day

"Kid, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with David?"

Emma is yelling as an out-of-breath Henry skids to a halt next to her, just inside the barn where Zelena had cast her time travel spell.

"I was, but there was that earthquake, and I saw you slipping away, and I followed you!"

This never would have happened in New York, Emma thinks wildly, angry at how quickly Zelena was forgotten when the Snow Queen came to town. If they hadn't been so busy, maybe they all would have destroyed this site, making sure it could never be used again.

As it is, Emma can't say she's surprised: everyone in town seems to be desperate to change their fate. Regina. Gold. Most importantly, Regina. And, apparently, the Snow Queen.

Mother and son stare at the barn, surrounded by circularly flowing ice. It's like magma, except a soft blue, and so freezing that Emma is already shivering in memory of when she nearly froze to death.

"I don't know how she's doing it, kid, but the Snow Queen must have activated that old time portal. You gotta get outta here! We both do!"

Henry looks at her, mouth open, about to shout his answer into the roar of the ice.

But his response is cut off as the ground beneath him swirls and rises. He lets out a yell as a mound of ice swoops him higher, higher, higher. Too fact and too high to jump from safely.

"Mom!" he screams, and Emma wishes for Regina.

"Henry! It's okay, you're gonna be okay – " She scrunches up her eyes and wills him off of the rapidly forming ice cliff, but her heart is racing too hard and she is full of doubt: whenever she's used magic to move someone else, it is fast, harsh, rough.

Damaging.

Just like her. Damaged, and making other people damaged, too.

She's hesitated too long. He is falling, falling, falling. Falling into the portal. Falling into time.

She doesn't think about it. Doesn't blink, doesn't hesitate. She launches herself forward, over the rapidly-growing ice, with every ounce of strength she has.

She falls after her son, down, down, down, and back, back, back.

Back to the place Henry is thinking about as he falls. The place, the time, when his mother – would he ever see her again? Of course, he has to have faith – was beaten down, maybe, but still believed. Believed, like Regina will need to believe to get him and his other mother back. Believed, like Emma will have to if she is going to get them home from where they were going.

From when they are going.

From the time when Regina was only a few years older than he is now. From the time before she lost her first True Love.

Enchanted Forest, Many Years Ago

"Henry! Henry! I've got you, are you okay?" There are tears in Emma's throat and he looks up from where he is sprawled in the middle of an open, green field. Her hands are on his arms, urging him up, up, up. His head hurts, and he thinks he might have hit it when he fell out of the portal, but he doesn't say anything about it.

At least it's warmer here.

Now.

"Come on, we have to get out of sight until we figure out where we came out." He stumbles after Emma as she stomps up a rolling, grassy hill and dashes around some trees, beckoning to him to hurry even though he is only a breath behind her.

"That's the thing," Henry begins awkwardly. "I think I know where – uh, when – we are – "

But before he can explain, Emma puts her hand on his mouth urgently and pulls him behind a tree. The muted sound of horse hoofs galloping on grass makes them both flatten themselves behind a thick trunk.

Like mother like son, they peak their heads around opposite sides of the tree at the same time. Henry's eyes sparkle and he grins as a feeling of calm and excitement overcome him at once: he knows for sure, now, that they'll get home.

Emma's eyes, on the other side of the tree, widen and she barely suppresses a gasp.

"Regina," she breathes, because though she's now seen her in both an impressive array of pantsuits and full Evil Queen regalia, Emma has never seen her quite like this.

She is in riding gear, almost like David's, except it's blue. Blue and without all that leather, as though she only expects to ride with her horse, not fight. Her hair is braided sensibly down her back, and her eyes sparkle – so much like Henry's – as she gently encourages the horse she's riding to slow down and stop at the top of the hill.

She looks so young, Emma thinks, and her heart cinches.

Looking all around her with a slightly open-mouthed smile, Regina energetically and gracefully slides down to stand on her own feet. She pats the horse's neck and rubs affectionately along his fur pattern, pulling an apple out of her pocket as she does so.

Emma feels Henry glance at her and can make out his "this is so cool" smile from the corner of her eye, but she can give him the "this is not cool at all" speech later. Right now, she has eyes only for Regina, who's cleaning the apple off on her riding jacket and holding it out for her friend, rubbing his snout with her free hand. He leaves some of the apple for her and she beams at him.

"Thank you, Rocinante," she says brightly, biting into the horse-chewed apple nonchalantly.

Emma screws up her eyes, and she hears Henry give a very faint, but not quite displeased, "yuck." Emma reaches over behind the tree to nudge him, but she snaps a low hanging branch on the way. Mother, son, and one-day-mother all flinch, Emma and Henry jerking back behind the tree, hardly daring to breathe, and Regina tensing her entire body, eyes now widened with terror.

"Hello?" she calls in their direction. "Someone's there. I saw you."

Behind the tree, Emma and Henry exchange a wide-eyed glance.

And then Emma's heart twists into a tortured knot, because Regina's voice becomes a tortured knot, and Emma knows exactly why. Because she used to use that voice with those foster parents who…

"Mother? Mother, I – I'm sorry, I won't disobey you again. I'll be good, I promise, just please, show yourself. I'll make up for it, I swear. Mother, please."

Emma remembers how the silence of violent parents can be worse than their screams and their blows. Sometimes you can let your body drift and tune out the abuse. But you can't tune out the silence. The anticipation. The knowledge that what's ahead of you is so much worse than what you've been dealt before.

Emma can't let Regina live in fear of that silence. She won't. She steps out from behind the tree.

She holds her hands up.

"I'm sorry…" She glances at Henry for support, who's coming out from behind the tree, a mirror image of her. He nods, barely suppressing a smile, encouraging her. "… ma'am, we didn't mean to scare you. We're just… we were just… passing through."

There is a small sense of guardedness in her demeanor, but all of the fear in Regina's body melts away. Her brow furrows with bemusement as Emma and Henry approach her slowly.

Regina shakes her head slightly. "Where are you passing from? Such strange clothes, and I… " She laughs and pats Rocinante's neck. "There's no need to call me 'ma'am.' It's just Regina. And you two are…" The younger woman looks Emma up and down slowly.

Did she just lick her lips? Emma wonders, and gulps. Henry grins, his eyes darting back and forth between them eagerly. He steps forward.

"I'm Henry. And this is my mom, Emma. It's nice to meet you, Regina." Emma flinches inside, but lets it be, not knowing what else to do. She offers Regina a small smile. Regina captures her eyes playfully before releasing her, putting her hands on her thighs, and leaning forward to talk to Henry.

"And it's nice to meet you, Henry. That's a good name you've got there. My father's name." She beams at him and inclines her head fluidly to her left. "This is Rocinante. Have you ever met a horse before?"

"Sort of," Henry chuckles as he approaches Rocinante. With him occupied, Regina gives her full attention to his mother.

"Em-ma," she says softly, her eyes sparkling flirtatiously. "I'm afraid you answered none of my questions." The kinds of words she chooses are familiar, but her cadence is not. It is light, casual. Unburdened. Curious.

Hopeful.

Emma gulps again.

"Yeah, we're just… like I said, passing through…"

Regina squints at her curiously. "Are you on the run from someone? You sound like you don't want to share, but I'm guessing you won't make it very far in those outfits." She's smiling slightly as she digs into her pocket again to give Henry an apple to feed Rocinante.

"Thanks," Henry says brightly. "You wouldn't be able to get us some clothes, would you?"

Regina chews on her bottom lip, nodding to herself, watching Henry. "I think I can, yes…" she murmurs.

"But your mother," Emma whispers.

"You know Cora?" Regina asks, her voice trembling, her eyes suddenly wide with that fear again.

Emma's heart shrivels.

"You just seemed… you seemed scared of her. When you were calling out."

Regina nods, looking down, growing red. "Ah, yes, well… I apologize. My mother simply… does what's best for me. I'm… sorry you had to hear that."

"Don't worry about it," Emma murmurs.

Regina chews the bottom of her lips slightly, still nodding, as though she's having an argument with herself and winning.

"Well, then, I say the same to you: don't worry about it. I can get you both clothes to help you… blend in a little more." She leans back and absorbs their outfits with her eyes. "The strangest materials…" she murmurs, and Emma and Henry exchange a glance. "Follow me, then," she says, barely glancing over her shoulder as she walks with Rocinante back down the hill, her eyes constantly scanning the horizon.

"This is too risky, kid: we gotta get out of this situation. She knows our faces now, she'll recognize me the moment I get to Storybrooke, this can change everything for the worse – " Emma mutters quickly as they walk.

"But this is before she turned bad: this is when she still had hope. Maybe she can help us find a way back –"

"Only Rumplestiltskin can do that, kid, and we don't even know where to begin finding him – "

"Exactly. Mom finds him soon, she can help us –"

Emma glances at Regina, walking ahead of them, who turns around, meets her eye, and smiles.

"She's so… trusting now, even though Cora…Henry, this is too risky, we need to try to find Rumpelstiltskin on our own."

"We'll work it out," Henry assures her in a bad whisper. "We'll call it…" He squints at her, thinking hard. And then he smiles enormously. "We'll call it Operation McFly."

Emma mirrors his grin, nodding. "Marty McFly. Nice one, kid."

But they are approaching a stable, now, and Henry can't control the gasp that slips out of his mouth. He tries to disguise it as a cough.

A man in a brown tunic and trousers with somewhat wind-tussled hair is on his knees in one of the horse's stalls, cleaning it out. He looks up as Henry makes all that noise in his throat while Regina, Rocinante, him, and Emma approach the stable. Emma looks at Henry quizzically, but his eyes are wide and only looking at the young man.

"Hello," Regina offers the young man, her voice sounding confused. Realization starts to dawn on Emma slowly, slowly, a pit even bigger than the one that was already there starting to form in her stomach.

"These are my family's stables – I'm Regina. And you are…" She turns to wink at Emma, who wishes Henry were somewhere far away. And far safer. "I seem to be saying that a lot today," Regina says coyly. Emma attempts a witty response, but it comes out as a squeak. Regina purses her lips into a small smile and turns back to Daniel, who has gotten to his feet and removed his work gloves.

"It's an honor, m'lday. Your mother hired me just this morning to work with your fine fellows here." He pats Rocinante tentatively, happily. "My name's Daniel."

Storybrooke, 4 Years Ago

"Henry? Henry? Oh!" The Mayor runs in her stilettos out to embrace the small boy, throwing her arms around him even though he doesn't return the gesture.

"Are you okay?" She pulls back, her hands on her shoulders, to look him in his beautiful little face. She'd thought she lost him. After all she went through to get him. She thought she'd lost him.

But maybe she already has: he might be home, safe and in her arms, but he is glaring at her as she looks into his eyes.

"Where have you been?" Her voice trembles with pent-up anxiety.

"What happened?" She glances at the woman accompanying him, but only has the emotional capacity to register blonde hair and a red leather jacket.

Her eyes return to Henry. Since she got him from Boston, he has always been her rock. He will give her an explanation for why he ran away from her. He is all that matters.

"I found my real mom!"

He darts out of her grasp and past her into the house. Her heart shatters in her chest, but she cannot cry yet. Not in front of some stranger. Or Graham. Her eyes drag slowly to the woman, and she takes in her face.

And suddenly she has never been so frightened – or so exhilarated – in her life.

"Emma? You're Henry's birth mother? But you… it can't – you – I spent all that time – "

But the woman just stares back at her, her brow slightly furrowed. "I'm sorry? Ms… Mills, right? Are you okay? I've never… I'm sorry, but I don't know you."

Regina's face hardens; her tears evaporate. Her voice re-laces itself with nails, and she plasters onto her face a smile honed by years of being married to a man she didn't love. "No, you're right, obviously, I – I'm sorry. I've been distressed by Henry's disappearance. I'm sure you understand."

"Okay," Emma says, her voice cautious but open and non-judgmental. She understands what fear of losing your family can do to your state of mind.

"But my name… is Emma…" That smile again. Something about it breaks Emma's heart, but she can't understand what.

"A mere coincidence, I'm sure." Graham clears his throat and offers to check on Henry. Regina dismisses him without a thought.

Her eyes drag over Emma's body, taking in the exact curves she remembers from when she was a teenager in the Enchanted Forest.

"Now. How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?"

"Got anything stronger?" Emma asks.

Regina smiles and leads her inside, but the smile evaporates when Emma can't see her face.

This isn't possible, is all she can think to herself. She can't be here. She can't.

And if she can't be here – because it's impossible – then she certainly can't stay.