Finally, after yet another gap that was MUCH longer than I had intended... the final chapter! *cue in choir singing "Hallelujah"*

Once more I'm sorry for taking so long to post this... I've been really sick, and then really busy, and then sick again... and yeah. It's here now though, and I really hope you enjoy it! :)

I finally found the courage to pick the book up, quickly flipping through it to check whether what I wanted really was there, and finding it after just a few pages. Clutching it to my chest, I made my way upstairs to my bedroom, the cold determination of someone who has reached a final decision. I grabbed everything I would need to take with me and organized it as best as I could inside a small suitcase; I figured that would be enough, at least to start with.

Then, as an afterthought, I decided to make a quick trip to my home office, for one extra arrangement that I found necessary before what I was about to do. Opening the safe, I removed a document from it. Just a few pages, but I knew it was important. I hastily rewrote some of it on my laptop and printed the new version, immediately giving it the Storybrooke document authenticity seal. Being the mayor had its advantages, after all. And that was it, that was all I had to do when it came to precautions and preparations.

I allowed myself to take a moment to just walk around the house, the place that had been my home for the last 29 years of my life, and mentally say my farewells. Perhaps it would have been much easier, much less painful, if I had just turned around and left, not really acknowledging that that was a goodbye; but I could never do anything like that. I always needed closures, symbolic gestures, and so on. In the end, there was still at least a little bit of emotion beneath all the ice, I guess; not enough, never enough, but there was some, and it was that which led me to have a penchant for these kinds of sentimental moments.

I traced my steps back to my bedroom, a lot more slowly this time, and sat on the bed for a few minutes. I forced myself to breathe in deeply, in part to try and calm my heart down, in part to take in the scent of the air – basically my perfume mixed with yours. I looked around, picturing in my mind all the moments we had lived inside those four walls in the last few months. I tried to evoke the warmth you had helped me feel in there, on that bed, in that room, in that house... but it was nearly useless. You were gone... and everything was back to feeling like an igloo, just like it had before, starting with my own self. Without you, and without Henry... it was all completely cold, and my heart more than anything else.

I spent the longest time inside Henry's bedroom as well, making sure to look at every corner of it, every single picture of him, of us, every toy, every book, every drawing taped to the walls. It was as if I was trying to take it all in, to make it become inevitably ingrained into my mind somehow, so that I would never, ever be able to forget... even if that completely defeated the purpose of what I intended to do, and I was well aware of that fact.

Still, I could not resist it, just like I could not resist picking up one of the picture frames, the one with my favorite picture of the two of us, around a year before you first came to Storybrooke... a time when he still loved me and saw nothing wrong with who I was; a time when I was still his one and only mommy. I knew it was a wrong step... but still, I needed it. So, before I could change my mind, I shoved it inside the suitcase.

And with that, I finally found the strength I needed to exit the house, only stopping to take a quick look back at its exterior... and at my dear apple tree. I wished I could say a proper goodbye to it as well... but I knew I couldn't. I would most likely break down, all the tears I had been managing to keep inside for the last few hours already threatening to spill out. Besides, I realized I didn't have much time left. Somehow it was already the middle of the night, and in just a couple of hours, you and Henry and your parents and the whole town would be waking up. I had to be done with my plan before that.

I could not keep myself from at least taking a good look at the town as I walked along the streets, though. The houses, the shops, Granny's... The very same buildings I had been seeing every day, every single day for nearly thirty years; the places that I would most likely never see again. It's somewhat ironical how the knowledge that we're about to lose something makes us appreciate it so much more, isn't it? It's like an extra touch of torture that our hearts and minds insist on inflicting upon us, forcing us to feel so much more attached to something that is going to be ripped out from us, simply so that we will hurt all the more when that happens, instead of allowing us to prepare ourselves for the blow by becoming unattached and ceasing to give whatever we're about to lose any importance at all.

For over two decades now, I had been so absurdly sick of seeing the same things, the same houses, the same faces day after day after day. So many times I wished I could just take a walk outside of Storybrooke, visit some other place, see new landscapes, meet new people... anything new, anything different. But, as I made my way to your apartment, I found myself thinking that I would actually miss all of that. And, most importantly, I would miss you. You and our son. The only people who actually mattered to me.

Rationally, I knew very well that I would not be able to miss anything at all. Not if everything worked how it was supposed to. Still, it felt like some part of my heart still would; like there would be this hole in it, that would continue existing anywhere, anytime, and would not be filled without the two of you. I only hoped it would not be the same way for you, though. I hoped you would simply go back to being as complete, and warm and strong and beautiful as you were before me. And I hoped Henry would be too happy with his biological mom to notice anything at all. I honestly hoped there would be no traces of me left behind.

With a swift movement of my hand, the door to your mother's apartment was opened; it was far from the first time I did that. My mind screamed that it would be the last, though. Differently from all the previous ones, however, my intention was to fix my wrongs, to try and do something right for once. I stopped for a moment, listening attentively to make sure none of you were awake, and then allowed myself in.

Luckily, your parents had chosen to take the upstairs bed, and you and Henry were sharing the downstairs one; at least that way I would not have to see their faces at all, or risk waking them up to reach you. I tried to be as silent as I could as I made my way to the bed and stopped next to it. The two of you looked so peaceful, both with your mouths slightly open in the very same fashion. Seeing you and Henry side by side, with your guards down in the state of innocence that only sleep can bring, made me see just how much he looks like you, not only physically, but also in his gestures and mannerisms, despite the fact that it was me alone who raised him.

And if your strife strikes at your sleep
Remember, spring swaps snow for leaves
You'll be happy and wholesome again
When the city clears and sun ascends

Another flood of warmth washed over my heart at the sight... but a moment later, it was gone. I had to force it out. I had to keep control of myself, otherwise this would not work. So I forced myself to become cold again, colder than ever. I had come here for a reason; I had a task to complete, and that was what I was going to do. And after that, I was going to trace my steps back and leave, and that would be it.

Opening the spellbook on the page I had previously marked, I whispered the words. The words that would make the two of you forget me, forget everything about me, forget anything you might have felt for me at all. I was not sure that was entirely necessary, since the plan was for everyone in Storybrooke, no exceptions, to forget about my existence completely. I was not sure how exactly the next step I was going to take would go though; it was not something anyone had tried before – at least not in that exact order – so the effect it would have on the other people of the town was still subject to speculation, even though I had a very likely theory.

But, if anything went wrong, I wanted to make sure at least the two of you did forget me. Because, if everyone else did remember me, they would be more than happy to see me gone. And that was something I had no problems with, because I always knew it would be so. I always knew all of them hated me and wanted me dead, disappeared, or anything similar. And now, they would get it, so if they were actually able to realize that and enjoy having their wish come true... then be it. It's not like I would be there to see it anyway.

You and Henry, however, needed to forget. You needed to not remember a single thing about me, so that, even if any of the others mentioned me to you, you would just have absolutely no clue of who they were talking about. I needed to make sure that I would not only not cause either of you any more pain than I had already caused, but also erase the pain that I had already caused you as much as possible. That was, after all, the whole purpose of what I was doing. So yes, the spell was a necessary precaution... just to make sure.

And that is why I needed to turn my heart as cold as ice once again. So that I could muster the courage and the strength to let you go, and to know that there was no turning point after that. Even if I gave up on completing the plan, after that spell was cast, neither of you would remember me anyway... so there would also be no point in giving up anyway.

I knew it would be hard. Not just the kind of hard that one can push through by gritting one's teeth either. Horribly hard, gut-wrenchingly hard, the kind of hard that makes you prefer to rip your heart out and crush it with your bare hands than to actually do whatever it is that you have to do – and yes, I did consider that possibility, ironical as that might be, but it would not solve anything for you or our son.

So I did what I had to do... and it was even more painful than I expected, no matter how frozen I was trying to make my heart. It could have frozen over and over a million times, with layer over layer of glaciers and icebergs and snow... and it would still have been the most painful thing I have ever done. But, somehow, I got through it, by sheer force of will, by telling myself it would be over soon – for me as well as for you -, by focusing on my mind rather than the shattered ice block inside my chest. However it was, it was done. And I could not bear to look at your sweet, beautiful faces for a second longer than necessary.

I walked out of the apartment as quickly as I could without making noise, only stopping to leave the document I had printed before leaving my house on the table. My former house, to be correct. Not only would I not be living in it anymore, but the text on that paper said that the mansion belonged to you, not me. I had rewritten the deed of the property, with your name figuring as the lawful owner. It would be as if it had always been yours, and you just didn't know it until then.

I knew your parents had been looking for a larger place where all of you could live together, as the family you had never gotten to be, but without being crammed like you were in that tiny apartment. That was my way of helping... and of making sure my son got to grow up in the house he had always lived in, sleeping in his bedroom with all of his things, playing in the yard he had grown up running around, and so on. I just sincerely hoped you would keep the garden in shape... but, whatever I might have had against your mother, I had to admit she was almost as good with plants as my own self. I knew she would do a very good job at that.

Maybe that would make up for a little bit of the pain and suffering I had caused all of you out of sheer anger and bitterness and desire for revenge. Maybe that would count for something. Maybe, the memory of who I was, who I had been for so many years – that same memory that was hopefully about to be erased – could have one last deed to its name before it disappeared. And maybe, with that deed being a good, selfless one, it could perhaps soften the slightest bit all the hatred that it had deservedly received during the years. Maybe... I could fool myself into thinking that, if my son was capable of remembering me at all after he woke up... he would hate me a little bit less for doing this.

I knew very well it was useless; he would not remember me, he would not remember the house used to be mine, he would not know what I had done. No one would. That was the whole purpose of all my actions at that point. He would probably feel the familiarity of the house, though; as would you, even if less deeply. He would know he had always lived in it, he would know it was his home... but not that the person living there with him had been anyone other than you, hopefully. And that would be it.

Still... I could lie to my own self. I could give myself that, one last comforting lie, to make my conscience a little bit less heavy while I still had it, to make my heart hurt a little bit less by telling myself that he would not completely hate me if he knew what I was doing. I could give myself at least those last few moments of comfort.

Resignedly, I walked on, until the other side of town, to the invisible line that divided Storybrooke and its peculiar inhabitants and way of life from the rest of this magic-less world. Once more, I allowed myself to take everything in while on my way there. Every house, every shop, every car parked on the street, every sign, every tree. It was the last time I would be seeing those; the very last time, after seeing them every single day for almost thirty years. If the feeling that overtook me was not nostalgia, then I knew I had absolutely no clue of what that word meant.

I stopped upon reaching that mark, just ahead of the "Welcome to Storybrooke" sign. I could somehow feel where the town ended and the regular road began: magic, although invisible, lefts its mark. If one is as familiar with it as I was, it was completely possible to sense it, and the absence of it. So I knew exactly where I had to come to a halt for the time being.

My heart thumped inside my chest like it wanted to jump out, and I actually didn't blame it; I wouldn't want to be inside myself either, if I had the choice. Rationally, however, I knew the reason for that was my own fear, of what I was about to do, of it not working, of it working wrongly, of it actually causing more harm than the good I was trying to do, of the spell I had cast on you and Henry not actually working either, of what I was going to have to face in just a few moments, of what the future would bring.

I was afraid, I was more scared than I remember being in many, many years, with the exception of that night when I found out Henry was missing and no one in the whole town knew where he was... the night he went to Boston to fetch you, and it all started to change. I had been scared out of my mind of anything happening to him... but besides that, I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I had felt any fear at all in the last couple of decades. I did at that moment though, and that was one more thing to make my blood freeze and my teeth shatter and my hands tremble.

But I told myself yet again that it would all be over soon. I would make it so; I had to. I could not give up at that point. As much of a coward as I knew I was – and I was well aware that I was possibly the biggest coward to ever exist, so much so that I was going through all of that and doing all of that simply because I was too afraid to let myself love someone -, I needed to find at least a little drop of bravery inside myself. At least enough to push myself through the motions that would bring all that torture to an end. And so I did.

Turning to face the direction of the town, I again murmured some words from another enchantment, this one meant to erase every trace I had ever left in Storybrooke. Anything I had ever done would be undone, and mark I had left would be covered, every situation involving me would be rewritten. For every single purpose, I would have never been there at all. That should deal with everyone else.

While the spell I had cast earlier on you and Henry was specific to the two of you, and thus a lot more powerful, and meant to completely erase your memories of me and consequently anything they might have made you feel, this one was more general. It did not refer to any of Storybrooke's inhabitants except my own self. Still, the effects of it would also make sure everyone else forgot about me as well, if all worked out right. Since this spell was weaker though, because of how broad it was, I felt the need to give the two of you an extra protection; it was never too much, especially when it came to making sure I would not cause you any more pain.

After everyone else's memories had hopefully been taken care of, though, there was still one left: my own. The way to handle that one was very different from all the others, though. Yes, it also demanded magic... but one of a whole different nature. And for that one, I needed an object; anything at all would do, so I had not actually bothered to take something with me specifically for that purpose: the suitcase I was carrying would be more than good enough.

I placed it as close to the town border as possible, while still not crossing it. Then, making sure to not touch it again just yet, I squatted down in front of it and placed both of my hand directly above it, palms down. Closing my eyes, I focused on the magic that needed to be done: infusing that suitcase with a personality, complete with a set of false memories, a new name, personal traits and characteristics and whatnot. Just like I had done for every other person in that town, except my own self. Apparently my turn for that had finally come, even if three decades later.

After a few moments, that was done with. And I knew it was time. The chill that had settled itself inside me ever since that plan had been formed in my mind had reached its very appex. My whole body trembled, and I could not tell how much of it was from fear, and how much of it was from cold, the cold that came from the inside, the cold that plagued my very existence... and that I hoped was having its very last moments of control over me.

Exactly as the sun was starting to dawn in the horizon, a single tear ran down my cheek as I, with one swift movement, picked the suitcase up... and stepped forward.

And my head told my heart
"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head
"This time no
This time no"

And... that's it, this is finished at last. So, what do you think? I would really appreciate it if you could let me know! :)

To everyone who has read this story and stuck with me in spite of the huge amount of time it took me to update each time, and even more so to the wonderful people who have taken the time to leave reviews and cheer me on and make me not give up... THANK YOU! It really means the world to me!

Writer-Monkey-Esq... I'm sorry. I do hope you're still alive... and I'm over here handing you a box of tissues as promised. ;)

To everyone else who wanted a happy ending... I'm honestly sorry for disappointing you, but this is what I could produce right now. I hope you can forgive me...

Once again, the song is "Winter Winds", by Mumford & Sons.

Bye... and until the next! ;)