Emma took this in, not believing that she’d heard the whole truth.
— Okay, — she said finally. — I’m going down there, but let’s be clear about something, «Your Majesty». I know who you are now. What you’ve done. Whom you’ve hurt. Whom you’ve killed. And there’s one thing you need to know before we go any further. — She gave Regina a long, cold stare. — The only reason you’re not dead is because I need your help to save Henry. And if he dies? So do you.
Regina nodded brusquely.
— Let’s get on with it.
Emma stepped into the elevator then, and Regina slowly lowered her down.
It took two minutes, and the lower she went, the darker things got. When the elevator finally settled onto the ground, Emma could hardly see anything. Looking up, she saw just a faint square of light where she’d begun. She was deep underground.
She stepped off the elevator into a smoky cavern. It was hot, too — not at all what she’d expected. Her light caught something, causing a glimmer, and she stepped out across the rocky floor. She knelt in front of something — something big. Something glass. It took her a moment to figure it out. It was a coffin. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought that it matched up with the Snow White story. What was it? Hadn’t Snow White been in a glass coffin?
Emma stood and took a breath. She looked around.
And then she saw it.
At first, she thought it was another light, someone else shining a flashlight at her. But it wasn’t.
It was an eye.
A yellow eye.
All was still, though, and Emma took a tentative step forward and reached out toward the blackness beside the eye. Her hand touched something that wasn’t stone.
What in the hell is this? she thought.
It was scaly, warm She rubbed her hand along it.
And then the walls began to move. She heard a grunt, and then a roar. She stumbled backward, eyes wide, realizing what this was: a dragon.
It came to life with a screech and a ball of flame.
Mary Margaret found the book in Henry’s hospital room, but there was no sign of Emma. Whatever was wrong, she was out there, somewhere, taking care of it. This was why Mary Margaret loved her friend so much; Emma knew how to fight back. That had been missing, in Mary Margaret’s own life, for a long time. She admired it.
Dr. Whale had explained the situation, and now Mary Margaret decided that the least she could do was stay with Henry, to be with him through this. She could read him a story.
And she did. She told him the story of how Snow White had sacrificed herself to end the conflict with the Queen, and how she’d fallen into a magical slumber because of the apple. Charming, meanwhile, had escaped from the Queen’s dungeons, and with the help of Rumplestiltskin, he was able to finally locate his true love once again. She was not well when he found her. Not at all.
— When Prince Charming saw his beloved Snow White, — she read, — there in her glass coffin, he knew all that was left was to say good-bye. He had to give her one last kiss. But when their lips met, true love’s kiss proved more powerful than any curse. A pulse of pure love shuddered out and engulfed the land. As her eyes opened, it was clear, no matter what, that they would live happily…
Mary Margaret paused, took a breath. She was crying. It had just… happened.
She went on:
— …happily… ever after.
She closed the book, then closed her eyes. It was all such a fantasy. It didn’t work like that, did it?
— I’m sorry, Henry, — she said, taking his hand. — I gave this book to you because I knew… I knew life doesn’t always have a happy ending. But I thought… I thought that that was just not fair.
She squeezed his hand, remembering how David — John Doe then — had woken up after hearing a story about love. And for a second, she believed it was happening again — she heard a beep from one of the machines and looked back at Henry hopefully. However, the beeps then became urgent, and sounded more like warnings. Nurses began to rush into the room.
— What’s happening? — she said.
Dr. Whale burst in.
— He’s crashing, — he said. — You have to leave.
Mary Margaret found herself in the hall, her hand over her mouth, her heart pounding. Nurses and doctors huddled around Henry; she couldn’t see anything. But she could see the concern in the eyes of the doctors and hear it in the sounds of their voices.
Henry was dying.
The dragon burst up into the air and showed Emma its full, terrifying form. Wings spread, it shrieked down at her. It was almost too big, and too frightening, and too shocking for her brain to even admit that it was real. Which didn’t much matter, at least for the first pass: Her body took care of the self-preservation. She ran, changed direction, and dove as the dragon swooped down over her, raining fire down at her heels. This bitch is pissed, Emma thought, getting to her feet.
Overhead, the dragon was circling, and she ran to the other side of the cavern, where site saw a good outcropping of rock. She dove under it just in time, feeling the heat of the flame against the skin of her cheeks. This time, the dragon didn’t swoop away.
It landed.
Emma turned, eyes wide, and looked at the growling creature, which was not ten feet from her. She feebly held the sword up, but it was heavy and ungainly. She sensed that the dragon was amused.
— Screw this, — she said.
She dropped the sword, pulled her gun, and started to shoot.
After firing into the heart of the thing, there was no sign that the bullets had even caused a tickle. It lunged at her, and she ran to the other side of the cavern, the dragon snapping its huge jaws just behind her head. At the far wall, she steadied herself.
She changed her aim and fired at the head in a tight pattern near the nose. She could see small geysers of blood erupting when each bullet hit, but again, they seemed to have little impact.
— Really? — Emma said aloud.
As she did, she saw that the dragon’s chest now seemed to be glowing orange. She figured she was going to have to dig that potion out of it.
The sword was on the other side of the cavern, back where she’d dropped it. She tossed the gun aside, visualizing the move she’d have to make to get the sword. The dragon turned to face her. She smiled at it. Then went straight for it.
The dragon seemed confused by Emma’s charge, and was late shooting a long plume of fire at her; so late that she made it past, and made it under the legs of the huge beast. She dove for the sword and felt it in her hand. The dragon, confused, slowly turned around, screeching in frustration.
It rose up then, ready to turn her into a pyre.
Emma waited as long as she could.
And then she threw the sword.
The blade struck the beast directly at the glowing spot on its chest, and the dragon screamed an ungodly scream, its wings flapping in agony. The scream, however, did not last long. All at once, the tremendous creature exploded into a ball of flame and ash.
Emma hit the deck and waited for the hot wind to pass over her. When all was again quiet, she approached what was left of the body — really just a pile of black crud. She sifted around for a moment, but the potion wasn’t hard to find. A white jeweled egg, the perfect carrying case for a love potion. Emma collected it, found her sword, and headed back to the elevator shaft.
Breathing heavily, still not really admitting to herself that she’d just fought a dragon, Emma yanked the cord and yelled up the shaft:
— Regina, pull me up!
After a moment, the elevator jerked to life.
Emma studied the egg as best she could as she lurched upward. She’d lost her flashlight somewhere, but the light from above let her see the clasp. She opened the egg up and saw the vial inside, glowing a strange violet hue. So that’s what love looks like, she thought.