Jane doesn’t want to look, doesn’t want to watch a mother’s panic over her son falling to what can only be his death. She wants to watch Emma fall with him even less, but someone has to step up, in case Regina does something stupid like throwing herself after them. But Regina has dropped her gun, after apparently putting a slug right in the middle of Mendell’s forehead. It has to be her, because Jane hasn’t fired her weapon yet.
The darkness of the room is suddenly illuminated by a blast of purple light, Regina sinking to her knees as it seems to pulse right out of her hands -- but that can’t be right, it’s gotta be Jane’s mind playing tricks on her -- out into the space where Henry and Emma are falling.
“Greg? Baby?” Tamara’s voice is plaintive, almost childish as she talks to his dead body, slumped against a desk, making Jane focus back on her. “That bitch shot him,” she adds, almost to herself. Jane doesn’t get a chance to say anything before another gunshot rings out.
Maura’s mouth forms a perfect ‘o’, and Jane knows it then, without seeing the gun. A few seconds later and the blood starts to spread across the fabric of Maura’s dress, like a dark red rose blooming over her abdomen.
Jane shuts down in that moment. She fires, she realizes after, but it’s just instinct. Tamara drops like a stone, with Maura sliding down, bleeding, bleeding, oh God she just collapses and there’s so much fucking blood, it just opens up a whole target for Jane to empty her magazine into. It doesn’t even feel like relief, she’s numb and calling Maura’s name but that isn’t going to fix a damn thing.
“Jane,” Maura gasps, and it’s barely even a sound. Jane’s on her knees before she can think, cradling Maura’s head in her lap.
“Tell me what to do,” Jane pleads. “Pressure, right?”
Maura nods. Jane pulls off her jacket and wads it up to press against Maura’s stomach. “Stay with me, Maura. Stay with me.” She begs, trying to ignore the hiss of pain Maura lets out when she pushes down and the way she can feel the warm, sticky blood coating her hands. That it’s Maura’s blood - Maura’s life force - sliding over her fingers makes her stomach turn.
“Vince?” Jane blurts out. “You still with me?”
“I’m here, Janey,” he huffs, but he doesn’t sound good at all.
“Can you get us a bus? Might take two.” She has to give him something to do, something to keep him conscious and with them.
He fumbles with his radio, using his good right hand, and calls in their location. When it’s done, Jane sees his hand go slack, and when she looks up at his face, his eyes are closed. Shit.
“Korsak. Vince!” There’s no response and she feels her throat tightening, even as she pushes down harder on Maura’s stomach. “Frost?” She tries, already knowing she won’t get an answer. “Frankie? Please.”
“Janey.” His voice is weak, but it’s there, it’s there and Jane feels just a little less alone.
“Frankie, I need--”
“Regina.” He gasps and Jane finally tears her eyes away from Maura to look at Regina, still on the ground with her hands splayed out in front of her. And it’s like a tractor beam is coming out from between her hands, only it’s bright purple instead of white and Jane still doesn’t understand what’s going on, still can’t think any farther than the blood on her hands and how Maura’s stomach is rising and falling much slower with every minute.
“Frankie, come here, press down on this jacket, okay?”
“Okay,” he grunts, moving across the floor without complaint about his injuries.
“Harder,” Maura whispers as he takes over. Despite his broken wrist, Frankie uses both hands to bear down, gritting his teeth through his own pain. Jane kisses his cheek, even though they don’t do that, because her little brother is turning into a goddamn hero and she needs that so badly right now.
“Regina,” she calls out, crawling across the floor because standing right now is a risk too far. “How are you… what is…”
And Jane loses whatever the hell kind of thought she was trying to form, because at that moment Emma and the kid come floating through the hole in the side of the office wall, right over Regina’s head. Regina is shaking violently, looking like she’s ready to burst at the seams, but she keeps doing whatever it is that’s making that weird purple glow, right up until she places both Emma and Henry carefully on the dirty, blood-spattered floor.
“Mom!” Henry launches himself at her the second the glow releases him. “Mom!” He’s chanting it now, muffled against her shoulder as she gathers him up in a bone-crushing hug. Emma lies on the floor, panting. Jane looks at each of them in turn, waiting for an explanation. There’s a crash from downstairs, a door maybe, and help is finally on the way.
“What the hell just happened?” Jane demands. “What the hell are you two up to?”
“Not now, Riz,” Emma grunts, pushing herself up to sitting, nodding at Regina. “You didn’t let me drop, Regina. I think we can call that progress.”
“I didn’t want to traumatize Henry any further,” Regina snarks right back, but she’s smiling at Emma like the sun just came up over her head. “Detective, what’s wrong with the doctor?” Regina notices at last.
“She got shot. Because you dropped Mendell.”
“He deserved it,” Regina says simply. She isn’t even in the neighborhood of remotely sorry, and Jane can’t entirely blame her, despite the nauseating blind panic over Maura.
“We’re up here!” Frankie yells as the sound of footprints echoes underneath them. “Jane, can you… I’ll go wave down the paramedics?”
“Sure,” Jane springs into action, but when she’s back at Maura’s side the news is far from good. Her usually peachy skin is gray, and there’s sweat beading along her hairline. Maura barely breaks a real sweat anywhere outside of those damn Bikram classes she drags Jane to, and her eyes can’t seem to stay open. “Help is here, Maura. Just hold on a minute, okay? Just please keep fighting. We’re nearly there. Just keep your eyes open, okay? Keep them open.”
But Maura’s eyes aren’t opening and she’s suddenly still, so still. “Maura! No. Maura! Open your eyes. Help is here, Maura. Open your eyes.”
“Who are these ladies?” Henry asks Regina.
“Friends of Emma’s.”
“Do something!” Jane howls. “That purple thing, do it! Make her float or something! Maura, please. Don’t leave me, Maura. I shouldn’t have brought you along, I’m so sorry.”
“Regina.” Emma says and it’s as close to begging as she’s ever been, watching Jane crying over Maura. Jane, who never cries, who is never afraid, who is always strong and steady. Hell, she’s cried exactly once in all the time Emma’s known her and that was the end of the 2004 World Series, which owed a lot more to beer and a curse-breaking miracle than anything else.
“I can’t,” Regina groans. “I’m completely drained. Catching you two almost killed me.”
“Fuck this,” Emma announces, rolling up her sleeves and focusing her gaze on Maura. “If I have it too, now is the goddamned time. Come on…”
Jane doesn’t really know what that means, but everything’s kind of blurry and her eyes are burning with the heat of tears, and Maura isn’t moving, no matter how hard Jane shakes her.
“Please,” she begs, and she isn’t really sure what she’s asking or who from.
Emma doesn’t feel anything. Her hands are as flesh and bone and useless as they’ve ever been as she stands over the wounded Maura. She looks to Regina in desperation, and although one of them should be saying no, should be saying don’t expose them any further, Regina simply mouths ‘emotion’ at Emma.
Right. Stop thinking.
Maura got shot and that isn’t fair. Maura’s nice and clever and she helps solve murders. And Jane loves her, that much is clear from space, whatever they want to call it. And all Emma wants right now is to stop Jane from looking this broken, from feeling this awful, just to take it all away right now and make it never come back.
And it happens. It’s just a spurt of pink smoke at first, but it happens. Emma grabs on to the success and tries again, just lets herself feel good about it working, about Henry being safe, about Greg and Tamara lying dead on the floor and never hurting anyone ever again. And she can feel it then, the power, surging through her.
She moves closer to Maura, falling down beside Jane, moving her hands closer to the wound that Jane is still pressing down on. “Jane, I need you to move.”
Jane remains motionless, her eyes zeroed in on the pink light that is coming from Emma’s hands in a steady stream now.
“Riz, move.” She coaxes again, nudging Jane and the jacket out of the way, putting her hands directly over the wound, letting the power flood through it and into Maura’s body. “Come on. Come on.”
Nothing happens at first, and Emma can feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. But then she remembers the spell in Gold’s shop, the way Jefferson’s hat suddenly started to spin from a simple touch, and the tingling sensation of draining all that magic from the diamond, of Regina’s steady gaze down there in the mines.
“Regina,” Emma gasps. “Come here and, um, touch me.”
“Just put your hand on my shoulder or something! Move!”
“I don’t have any left, I just--”
“Trust me. I just need the steering, or something. Can you just shut up and do it?”
“Listen to Emma, Mom. You two working together brought you to me, remember?” Henry is the voice of reason once again, and that’s more than any 11 year-old should have to bring to the table. It certainly nudges or shames Regina into action, and Emma closes her eyes as she feels the squeeze at her shoulder.
Maura coughs then, and Jane actually squeals, which is the least Rizzoli noise ever made. There’s a fresh trickle of blood from Maura’s mouth and so Emma focuses harder, willing every last injury to heal, and sure enough the color starts to return to Maura’s face, and when her eyes open she seems alert.
“What…” she tries to speak, but it takes too much effort. Jane is cradling her again in an instant.
“Don’t try to speak, Maur. The paramedics are just doing their thing. You just relax and wait for the hospital, okay?”
“No pain,” Maura breathes. “Why?”
“Must be the morphine,” Jane lies smoothly. She looks at Emma, and Emma removes her hands, satisfied the job is done. She’s glad that Regina hasn’t let go of her, though, because a second later Emma’s collapsing against Regina’s legs.
“I’m fine,” she blurts, before anyone can fuss. “Just worn out. Gimme a minute.”
Regina doesn’t protest, just allows Emma to slump there until she gets her bearings. When she feels less like she’s going to pass out, she opens her eyes and grins up at Regina. “I did it.”
“You did.” Regina nods and her lips curve up just the slightest bit. Emma might be projecting, but she swears that Regina sounds almost proud of her.
The paramedics finally come running in then, and there’s four, thank God. Jane has to be pried away from Maura again, and Frankie directs two of the paramedics to the older detective whose name Emma can’t quite remember. They yank at his shirt and start CPR right away.
“Doctor Isles?” The paramedic clearly knows them. “Can you tell us what happened?”
Regina is the one to step up this time.
“She took a hit to the lower back. There was some kind of struggle and she passed out.”
“I was shot?” Maura says, but she’s fading again.
“I don’t see any bullet wounds,” one of the paramedics says, looking around for confirmation.
“Other people got shot,” Jane says, nodding at Greg and Tamara. “It’s all been a bit confusing.”
“You riding with her, Rizzoli?”
“Yeah, I just gotta check on Korsak,” she says. “And Frost. Someone needs to check on Frost.”
“I’ll go with Korsak,” Frankie insists. “Get my wrist checked out at the same time. You go with Maura and Frost. Call Ma on the way or she’ll never forgive us.”
“Detective, we can’t take a ridealong with two patients in the bus,” the taller of the two paramedics says, and it’s clear he’s used to arguing with cops from his arms-crossed posture.
“We should get going,” Emma attempts, pulling herself up to standing and taking Henry’s hand. Regina takes the other, forming their own little chain gang. This not having to announce every step in a plan thing is getting kind of handy, Emma admits. Having someone on the same page makes her feel a lot less alone than usual.
“No, no,” Jane interrupts, all fake smile and warning glare. “You three should get checked out too. Just in case. So how about I drive you in myself, huh? Since there’s no room for me in the ambulance,” she adds, the glare now aimed at the paramedics.
“That’s really not necessary,” Emma insists.
“Henry is fine. We’re fine,” Regina agrees. “We can always bring him in later, if there are any problems.”
“Emma, we got two bodies and officers injured while trying to find your kidnapped son. We’re gonna need statements. So go to the hospital with Janey, huh?” Frankie’s tone brooks no argument and Emma knows better than to even try. She’s already in deep, but if they cut and run now, they’ll be royally screwed. Nobody needs to be tracked by Rizzolis for the rest of their lives; that’s more trouble than even Emma would ask for.
“Okay.” She folds, even as she feels Regina’s angry glare. “We’ll come in and get Henry looked over, give you our statements, but then we’re taking our kid home.”
“Let’s go,” Jane instructs, once she’s satisfied that Maura’s safely strapped into a stretcher. “We can start chatting about those statements on the ride over.”
Running looks like a much better option the minute they’re all belted and buckled inside Jane’s car. Emma is regretting taking the passenger seat, but asking Regina to let go of Henry right now is a fool’s errand. Emma just needs to have him nearby, where she can see him, to feel the relief.
“So,” Jane says, conversational as can be as they pull out of the dock area and onto the road. “I think it’s time we all had a chat about purple voodoo whatever and how the hell you two can throw it around like that. Can the kid do it too?”
“I can’t believe you did magic in front of a civilian,” Henry groans, bumping his head against the window.
“We were saving your precious little butt, kid,” Emma answers, because it’s easier than addressing Jane directly.
“For your sake, Detective,” Regina is in take-charge mode now, so God help them all. “I suggest you change your line of questioning. Find something more acceptable for the reports you’ll have to write up. I assure you, the truth will have you out of a job before you can finish signing your name.”
“Jesus, Regina.” Emma sighs, but it’s not entirely untrue.
“I suggest,” Jane sasses right back, “that you answer my questions and let me worry about what to put in my reports.”
“Riz, come on.”
“No, you come on, Swan. You come on and tell me how it is that you are sitting here beside me when you should be splattered all over the concrete at the bottom of that shaft. You tell me how it is that Maura was -- she was dead, Emma -- and now she’s fine. And the two of you are tossing colored light around like it’s nothing--”
“Hey! It definitely wasn’t nothing.”
“And your kid is talking about using magic in front of civilians. What the hell is going on?”
“Can’t you just be glad that everyone’s okay? Always with the questions and the butting in. Henry’s safe, Maura’s alive, the assholes who caused all this are dead. Does it really matter when the ending turned out right?”
“That is so you,” Jane chuckles, and there’s not a scrap of humor in it. “Always with the shortcut, always skipping to the bit at the end where Emma Swan gets what she wants. Who cares that some shopkeeper is trying to make ends meet, when you need to steal your food for the day, right?”
“Hey! If I wanted a laundry list of my failings, I brought Regina. You can lay the hell off.”
“Don’t try to change the subject. Are we seriously talking about magic, here? You’re fighting crime based on, what? David Copperfield?”
“How do you know Betsey’s nephew?” Regina pounces, confusing both Emma and Jane in the process.
“She means the illusions guy. You know, Vegas and making stuff disappear live on TV? That kind of thing,” Emma clarifies.
“Oh,” Regina calms. “I helped the other one out with his stepfather, back home. I thought maybe he’d ended up here, too.”
“Where is home?” Jane asks, watching Regina in the rearview.
“Storybrooke, Maine,” Regina recites. “108 Mifflin Street, to be exact. You should pop over some time. I make the most delicious apple turnovers.”
“Mom.” Henry cautions.
“Seriously, Regina?” Emma turns to look at her. “You wanna add threatening a cop to the growing list of our offenses?”
“She didn’t know it was a threat until you just told her.” Regina hisses. “This is ridiculous. I say we just wipe her memory and go back to Storybrooke.”
“We aren’t wiping Jane’s memory!”
“You have a better idea?”
“Wiping my memory? What the hell are you two into? Maura said you might be CIA, but this is science fiction crap.”
“Oh, Riz,” Emma sighs, knowing that if this backfires she might actually have to let Regina have her way and magically reboot Jane. “Let me ask you this… how familiar are you with Snow White?”
“The Disney cartoon?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess. Well, what would you say if I told you that Regina here is the Queen from that story?”
“I’d say I can see the resemblance,” Jane teases. “But seriously.”
“And that whole left by the freeway thing? Turns out I was actually shoved through a portal to save me from a curse. By my parents. Because my mom? Is kind of Snow White from Snow White. Which makes me the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. And Henry is kind of their grandson.”
“Okay, how hard did you hit your head? Or are you dabbling in something stronger than beer again?” Jane asks, keeping her eyes resolutely on the Boston traffic in front of them, both ambulances having long since sped past with their lights flashing. Emma has to admit that saying it out loud for the first time since she started to believe is up there with the weirdest moments of her life.
“She’s telling the truth.” Regina says, remembering the conversation in the hotel room and Emma’s fear of Jane thinking she was crazy. “I am the Evil Queen.”
“You were.” Henry corrects and it makes Emma smile. “And Emma’s the Savior. She broke the curse. She’s the product of True Love. It’s why she has magic.”
“Henry, you just went through something very traumatic,” Jane starts, her voice calm and soothing.
“We’re not crazy.” He protests. “Show her, Mom.”
“Your mom’s drained, kid. Besides, I think we already showed Jane when your mom saved us and I saved Maura. If she doesn’t believe--” Emma can’t blame her, but she doesn’t say that.
“Believe what? You’re some street magician with special effects?” Jane is still incredulous, but she’s gripping the wheel tight enough for her knuckles to go white.
“You ever see a street magic bring someone back from the dead?” Emma counters.
“I know it sounds crazy. Believe me, it took me fighting a dragon to believe it myself. But it’s true, Riz. I swear to you, I’m telling you the truth. I am the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. Regina did cast a curse that sent everyone from the Enchanted Forest here. Magic is real. And I can introduce you to Cinderella, or Belle, or Hansel and Gretel any time you like, to prove it.”
“Wow,” Jane mutters. “I knew growing up without your parents did a number on you, Swan. I didn’t realize it had gotten this fucked up.”
“Let’s not talk for a bit, okay? We’re almost at the hospital. You three think about getting your stories straight before I have to put anything on paper.” Jane has shut down again, Emma can see it in her posture.
“So I was right all along,” Regina sasses from the backseat. “What a surprise.”
“Aw, crap,” Jane mutters under her breath as they approach the Admitting Desk. “Swan, do me a favor and ask for Korsak. Say you’re his daughter or something.”
“You just called me a delusional liar and now you want me to… lie?”
“That nurse hates me. I may have yelled at her once or twice for not letting me cuff some perps when they came in for treatment. So I’m uh, kind of barred unless I’m bleeding from somewhere.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Regina sighs, pushing past them both and approaching the nurse and looking stricken. “I’m Mrs Korsak,” she says, voice wavering, the whole bit. “Can you tell me where my husband has been taken?”
“Vince got married again?” The nurse asks, instantly suspicious. Jane keeps walking, heading to the vending machines on the far side of reception with her hair hiding her face. Emma clutches Henry’s hand, ready to bolt as ever.
“We met in Vegas,” Regina lies, smooth as ever. She flashes that emerald ring she wears all the time, now conveniently on her wedding finger. “It hasn’t been long, and God knows I’ve asked him to think about retiring and spending more time with me, but…”
“He’s still in the Trauma bay,” the nurse changes her tune then, all sympathy. “But our best doctors are working on him right now. The waiting area is just through those doors.”
“Thank you,” Regina says, wiping away a very convincing tear and hurrying in the direction indicated. Emma and Jane follow from their respective spots after a short pause for the nurse to be distracted.
“Only you could get yourself banned from a hospital,” Emma mutters, still sore from their conversation in the car.
“Cram it, Pocahontas,” Jane warns. “We need to track down Maura and Frankie, too. Start pulling back curtains and pretending to have wandered into the wrong place, okay?”
“Pocahontas wasn’t a fairy tale character. She was a real person.” Emma shoots back. “Get your facts straight. No, shit, so was Mulan and I met her. Damn. I wonder if--”
“Seriously? Knock it off, Swan.” Jane says, pulling open a curtain and quickly muttering an apology to the people behind it. “It isn’t funny.”
“You see me laughing?” Emma peeks behind a curtain, breathing a sigh when she catches sight of Frankie. She pulls the curtain open wider to allow Jane to see in.
“Frankie.” She rushes forward. “Are you okay? Do you know anything about the others?”
“They looked pretty concerned about Korsak,” Frankie says, arm already in a sling. “Mine’s a clean break and Maura’s awake and they’re checking her out. I think she’s a couple of beds down, but Korsak is still in the actual trauma room.”
“What about your boy Frost?” Emma asks.
“He woke up,” Frankie tells them. “But because he hit his head, he’s gonna be getting every scan under the sun. Gotta work that Department insurance for every last dime, right?”
“Of course.” Jane nods, but it’s obvious that her mind is elsewhere.
“Jane, I’m fine. Go.” Frankie nudges and Emma’s glad to see she’s not the only one aware of Jane’s feelings for Maura, even if no one’s saying anything.
“You sure?” Jane asks, but she’s already moving away from the bed.
“We’ll wait with Frankie,” Emma suggests, because if Jane’s questions were bad, she can only imagine what Maura will subject them all to. “So he’s not on his own.”
“Francesco! Where is my boy? Frankie!”
“Ma!” He calls out. “I’m in here.”
“Oh, what happened?” Angela barrels past them all, grabbing Frankie and showering his face with effusive kisses. “They said you were hurt, there was a shooting…”
“I didn’t get shot this time, I swear,” Frankie tries to reassure her. “And Jane didn’t either, we’re fine, Ma. We’re fine. Just gonna be in a sling for a few weeks.”
“You’re not hurt, Janey?”
“No, Ma. Maybe a bruise or two, but I’m good. I gotta go check on Maura.”
“What happened to her?” Angela asks, and Emma has to force herself not to look at anyone in case they give the game away about the shooting.
“She got beat up a little bit,” Jane explains. “You stay with Frankie, Ma. I’ll report back in ten minutes, okay?”
“You’re a good girl, looking after everyone,” Angela gathers her daughter up in a bone-crushing hug, and for once Jane doesn’t look embarrassed about it. “You come here, Emma Swan. What happened to you?”
“Me? Nothing. I’m not the badass cop here,” Emma says, quite honestly. “Listen, we need to go get Henry checked out, so…”
“This is Henry?” Angela squeals. “Oh come here, let me look at you.”
Henry looks to Emma in alarm. He’s still not used to the whole crazy grandma thing, which is pretty ironic given his family tree.
“Oh, he looks just like you. Look at that chin! And the way his mouth turns down just like yours. Aren’t you a little heartbreaker in training, huh?”
“Hello, I’m Henry Mills,” he says, extending a hand like Regina no doubt taught him years ago.
“And such a little gentleman!” Angela praises, even as she ignores the outstretched hand and pulls him into a tight hug. “Come here and give your Grandma Rizzoli a hug.”
“Ma, go easy on the kid, will ya? He’s not used to… you.” Emma cautions, causing both Angela and Henry to look up in surprise.
“Grandma? Ma?” Henry frowns, his nose wrinkling. “What’s going on, Emma?”
“It’s a long story, kid. Just… go with it for now.”
Henry looks like he’s going to protest for a minute, his inquisitive nature and need to know everything not wanting to let things drop, but then he relaxes and melts into the hug, wrapping his arms around Angela as his eyes close and he just enjoys the embrace. Emma knows how he feels. There’s nothing quite like a hug from Angela Rizzoli.
Jane takes her chance and moves down a few curtains until she hears the unmistakable sound of Maura arguing with someone about science. Jane may not know the vocabulary, but she knows what an exasperated Maura sounds like, so she’s quick to intervene.
“How’s she doing, doc?” Jane asks.
“Very well, considering. We’ve done a full examination and found no evidence of a gunshot wound. I think the trauma of the event has caused some confusion but we expect that to clear up in a few hours. We’ll monitor. Are you her partner?”
“Yeah,” Jane says, not wanting to get the doctor in any trouble. “Is it okay if we have a minute…?”
“Of course,” the doctor is quick to agree, already fantasizing about his next chance to sit for a minute and grab a coffee, no doubt. “The nurses will be back to complete the bloodwork in a little bit.”
“Why would you say you’re my partner?” Maura launches into it right away.
“Because ‘best friend’ gets you thrown out until regular visiting hours. And this is one ward I can’t flash my badge to get special perks, okay?”
“You’ve angered the staff with your demands in the past?”
“You could say that. You’re looking so much better already, Maura. I’m so glad you’re okay. It was pretty scary for a minute.”
“After I was shot, you mean?”
“Maura--” Jane shifts her weight from one foot to the other.
“Don’t lie to me, Jane. I know what happened to me. I felt it.”
“It’s complicated, okay? The important thing is that you’re fine. You were lying there and you were just… gone. And I lost it for a minute. I just lost it and the thought of you… Maur… I can’t…”
“Jane--” Maura reaches for her hand, and they’ve gotten better at the hugging and things over the years, but something feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the unspoken magic stuff hanging over their heads--no, not magic, come on Jane, get it together--or the fact that Maura basically died in front of Jane’s eyes and no matter how many times she blinks that sight just won’t go away. It’s burnt into her vision like the glare after staring directly into the sun.
“We’ll talk to them about it, okay?” Jane offers, her voice muffled against Maura’s hair, which still looks almost perfect even after being shot and brought back to life. Sure, the curls are a little less perfect, but it still looks artfully mussed and smells like that ridiculously expensive Swiss shampoo that Jane feels guilty about using every time she showers at Maura’s place. “Emma tried to explain in the car, but… we’ll talk to them about it, okay? They need to get Henry checked out first and then I need to go see how Frost and Korsak are doing.”
“I’ve asked the nurses to keep me updated,” Maura explains, not letting go of Jane yet. “I was… scared, Jane. All those times you’ve told me to stay behind, not to get in the way… I should have listened. I had no business being in the field today. Or any other time.”
“Hey,” Jane soothes, pulling back just far enough to look Maura in the eye. “You were so brave today, okay? I saw how that asshole kicked out at you. And you were trying to get out to help us all when that woman grabbed you. Don’t you dare apologize for being a hero.”
“They got Henry back?”
“They did, he’s right down the hall with Frankie. And Ma. Who is gonna be in here to fuss over you any minute now. Did the hospital contact your parents?”
“You’re my emergency contact,” Maura tells her. “I meant to mention it before, but the paperwork was overdue, so I filled it out and submitted it before I got a chance to check with you.”
“That’s cool. Guess I’ll have a voicemail or two to delete, then.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Why would I mind? I only have Ma as mine because if she ever finds out second when I’m hurt, I’m worried for the safety of others.”
“Maura!” Angela cries, pulling back the curtain again, right on cue. “Are you hurt? Are they treating you okay? What happened?”
“It’s… all a bit of a blur,” Maura says, and at least that’s not enough of a lie for the hives to break out. Jane offers a silent prayer for that much. “I’m feeling fine, Angela. Really.”
“You’re sure?” Angela moves over, her hand already pressed against Maura’s forehead, checking for a fever like she’s five years old and hasn’t just been brought back from the dead. Not that Jane will ever, ever tell her mother such a thing.
“She’s sure, Ma.” Jane tries to intercept. “The doc already cleared her. Just some bloodwork to be sure they didn’t miss anything and she’ll be good to go.”
“How’s Frankie, Angela?” Maura asks, knowing it will be the perfect distraction.
“Well, it was a clean break, at least. Not like that spiral fracture he had junior year. Maybe this time he’ll listen to the doctor and actually rest his arm, but I wouldn’t bet on it. I’m going to stay at his place until he’s healed, keep an eye on him.”
“Does Frankie know that, Ma?” Jane asks.
“What, I have to ask permission to care for my own children now? Emma said to tell you they found a doctor to take a look at Henry. They’re just around the corner on the kids’ ward.”
“I’ll go check on them,” Jane says, a little too quickly.
“Leave them be, Jane,” Angela warns. “You know how Emma is. If you smother her, she’ll run.”
“Says the queen of smothering,” Jane mutters to herself. “I just want to make sure everything’s okay with them. I still need to write up reports on everything that happened. If either of them have injuries, I need to know about it.”
“They looked fine to me,” Angela offers. “Relieved to have their kid back. Say, is Emma… you know? I’m not judging, but she always had a sort of quality, you know? I mean, she spent all that time with us and never let Tommy or Frankie take her out on a date. And you know they asked.”
“Ma!” Jane scolds. “Not dating a Rizzoli male is not proof of being a lesbian. God!”
“I didn’t say it was. I just meant -- well, they’re good catches. And I see the way she is with that hoity-toity Regina. I know she was worried about her son, but who died and made her Queen of England?”
Not England, Jane thinks, the Enchanted Forest. Oh God, this is so screwed up. She needs to talk to Emma again soon, hopefully with Maura for backup. Between the two of them, they should be able to get the truth out of Emma.
“She does seem rather regal, however I’d venture to say that it has to do with her status in Storybrooke. If she holds a position of political power there, then she’s probably doing her best to uphold her reputation. Saving face and all of that.” Maura offers. “Plus, with the stress of the situation, it’s not at all uncommon for people to retreat into more formal behaviors, there’s a level of comfort in the ordered and familiar. I find it useful, myself.”
“You don’t say,” Jane teases. “Ah, here’s the bloodsucking nurse patrol.”
“How did you get in here, Rizzoli?” The grumpy nurse is the one holding the tray. Well, shit.
“She’s my emergency contact,” Maura points out. “The basilic vein in my left arm is more pronounced, you’ll have better luck with venipuncture there than in my right arm.”
“Thanks for the tip, Doc,” the nurse softens at that, someone respecting her job a little more than Jane usually does. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned, but Jane doesn’t much care right now. “We’ll have you done in a jiffy.”
“Ma, did you think to bring--”
“There’s a sweater and those nice gray slacks you like in this bag,” Angela tells Maura, laying the tote out on the bed beside her. “I just grabbed the underwear at random, I hope you don’t mind. The flats should make it easier to get around.”
“Thank you,” Maura says, taking Angela’s hand. “I was going to call the lab and have one of the staff collect something for me.”
“No need, when I live right there,” Angela assures her. “And God knows Jane would never think to ask me.”
“I’ll get changed,” Maura says as the nurse fills another vial with blood and tapes a cotton ball over the puncture. “Then we can go interrogate Emma and Regina.”
The doctor has just cleared Henry when Regina pushes the curtain aside and moves in.
“Mom.” He grins at seeing her and Emma notices how he relaxes a little too, the same way he had in Angela’s embrace earlier. There’s some fundamental ‘mom’ness in each of them that Emma can’t seem to access, no matter how hard she tries. Maybe it’s like her magic, and she’s going to have to ask for help, but the thought of asking Regina seems like a terrible idea, so Emma stays quiet for now.
“Is everything alright?” Regina asks, brushing hair from Henry’s forehead and then running her hands down his arms, as though trying to make sure he’s still intact. “I didn’t want to leave you, but I wanted to wait for news on the sergeant.”
“I thought checking on Korsak was just a way to get in the door?” Emma asks, genuinely surprised.
“The man risked his life saving our son, not to mention both of us. The least I can do is check on his progress. Besides, the nurses now believe I’m his wife. The other detective, Frost, is doing well. They gave him a CT scan and the doctors seem happy.”
“Good. That’s really good. And Korsak?”
“They revived him, but he hasn’t woken up yet. It’s still critical.”
“So now we know all that,” Henry chimes in. “Are we gonna get moving?”
“Henry--” Regina begins.
“Kid, we can’t run,” Emma takes over the explaining, shooting a glance at Regina from the other side of Henry’s hospital bed.
“Why not? Isn’t that what you do?” Henry asks and then quickly tacks on, “No offense.”
“None taken.” Emma mutters, but it stings to know that Henry thinks of her like everyone else ever has. A runner and nothing more. Certainly not his damn hero. “Look, a lot of stuff went down while we were trying to get you back, Henry. And now that we’ve got you back, I’d like nothing more than to get out of Dodge. But other people are involved -- people I care about -- so we can’t just cut and run. We’ve gotta deal with all of this before we can leave.”
“Magic always comes with a price, even in this world,” Regina reminds them. “And the price of doing it in front of ‘civilians’ -- as you put it, darling -- is that explanations must be made. Or memories must be altered. I’m going to leave the decision on that to Emma, since she’s the one who apparently cares so much about these Rizzolis and everyone around them.”
“And if I make a decision you don’t like, you won’t just spring clean their brains anyway? How do you even do that, with magic? No, don’t tell me. I really don’t need to know.” Emma sighs, suddenly feeling like running might not be the worst idea. But she’s already done that once this trip and it certainly hadn’t helped matters. No, they’ll face this head on. And if that doesn’t work, then she’ll look the other way while Regina does her stuff.
“I’m hungry,” Henry sighs, slumping back against the pillow. “Greg wasn’t exactly cool about stopping for cheeseburgers.”
“Well, luckily for you, Henry Mills,” Jane saunters in then, Maura following behind her in clean clothes, hair tied back. “I know where the best bacon cheeseburgers in Boston are.”
“Please,” Emma snorts. “You only eat things that are chargrilled within an inch of their lives. If we’re eating, we’re going somewhere with real food.”
“You’re all very welcome at my house,” Maura suggests. “We’ll get takeout on the way.”
“Because you want to get our stories straight before taking us to the station?” Emma isn’t fooled by the sudden onslaught of niceness. She can see the anger simmering in Jane’s expression, no matter how much she tries to fake smile and cover it.
“Maybe some carbs will make you think up a story more plausible than ‘fairies made me do it’,” Jane admits, through gritted teeth.
“Fairies?” Maura looks intrigued suddenly.
“We aren’t having this conversation here.” Emma says, looking around at the various people bustling around. “But I’d be fine with going back to Maura’s. Without being cuffed, anyway.”
“Oh, so now you’re worried about what people might think of your crazy story?” Jane presses. “And no arrests here, not right now anyway.”
“Are we gonna ride in an actual police car?” Henry asks. “Because Emma won’t ever let me put the siren on in hers.”
“Just a regular car, sorry,” Jane tells him. “But you can put the blue light on top for me, deal?”
“Deal!” Henry hops down from the exam table, ready to go. Emma looks to Regina to be sure that she’s okay with this, although they really don’t have much of a choice. Regina inclines her head just a bit and Emma feels herself breathe just a little bit easier. She’s not sure exactly when Regina’s approval became the green light for so many things in her life, but something about it is weirdly reassuring.
“Let’s go,” Emma says, directing Henry towards the corridor and leading their slightly-battered little group towards the hospital exit. She needs a hot bath, a change of clothes and something hot and greasy to eat, but it really doesn’t matter which order any of those arrive in. Just a few more hours, hopefully, and they can get back to the relative sanity of Storybrooke.
“You have a lovely home,” Regina offers, as they stand around awkwardly in the living room. Henry is eyeing the takeout cartons like a wild animal who just stumbled across some defenceless chickens, so Emma springs into action.
“I can get plates, or…?”
“I’ll get them,” Maura replies. “The dinner table is just over there. Jane, you know where the coasters and placemats are?”
“Formal dining for food that comes in cardboard?” Jane whines. “Maura, the poor kid is starving. And he ain’t the only one.”
“Isn’t the only one,” Maura corrects without thinking, and Emma has to smirk at Jane being schooled every five minutes. It almost makes things worth it.
“Actually,” Regina says in a tone that’s trying just a little too hard to be conversational, “Henry is used to eating with coasters and placemats. At least when he’s with me.”
Emma manages not to flinch at the dig, but it still hurts just a little bit. After all they’ve been through, she thought they were done playing ‘who’s the better parent’, not least because it’s always been and always will be Regina. “Is there a bathroom that I can use?” She asks, suddenly feeling the walls caving in around her.
This whole ordeal has been nothing but a reminder of what a screw up she is -- who doesn’t make sure their kid is safely inside with his other mother before leaving? -- and now it feels like Jane and Regina are both on opposite sides from her.
“Of course. It’s just down the hall, third door on the left.” Maura offers with a smile and Emma supposes that she can count that as the one good thing she’s done through all of this. Maura is playing happy hostess instead of lying on a table in her own morgue and that’s something.
It’s only when she locks the bathroom door that she recognizes the pattern, remembers hiding in a much less ornate bathroom from Henry and his bombshell and his juice-commandeering that changed her whole life. And then again, she remembers, when Regina had tried to open the refrigerator and she’d lost it at the thought of Henry being gone. Even before that, when she needed to escape from less than ideal situations in her various homes, the bathroom had always been a place she could hide, at least for a few minutes -- a place to get her bearings and regroup; a place whose window was usually the easiest to wriggle out of, in a pinch. It’s funny what you only see in hindsight.
“So, Regina,” Jane begins, after her first bite of a sinfully greasy burger. Maura is going to have them in three extra spin classes for this meal alone. “Or do you prefer Your Highness?”
“It’s Your Majesty, actually,” Regina answers, removing the pickle from her own burger before taking a healthy bite. The room is quiet, waiting for her to chew and continue. “But that couldn’t possibly matter less.”
“Hey, mom?” Henry pipes up. “Am I prince on both sides of my family tree?”
“I suppose you are,” Regina tells him. “Adoption back home is a little different, but in our kingdom at least, you would be recognized as my heir. On Emma’s side, it’s even less complicated.”
“Cool,” Henry says, before shoving a handful of fries into his mouth and slurping down some chocolate milkshake.
“That’s cute,” Jane remarks. “You know, pushing delusions on a minor is probably grounds to get social services involved. If you were seen to be… how can I put it, Dr. Isles?”
“Detached from reality?” Maura supplies helpfully, picking at her lackluster salad. Even the tomatoes look kind of… sad. Jane had told her to go with the burger, just this once, but she’s used to losing the battle on food.
“What did you say?” Regina’s voice drops to a growl, and her stare is so intense that for a second Jane actually believes--no, she doesn’t. It’s just straight up rage, and that she’s seen a thousand times before.
“As a police officer, it’s actually my sworn duty to report any potential threat to a kid. And a mom who believes she’s a freaking Disney character qualifies, I would say,” Jane is calm about the threat, not least because right now she has no intention of following through on it.
“You will not,” Regina is on her feet before Jane gets a chance to blink.
“Mom!” Henry calls out, even as the lights in the room begin to flicker. There’s a sudden sound of glass breaking -- a window, just like in the warehouse and Jane feels a sliver of fear creep up her spine -- as Regina advances on her.
And when she grabs, it’s not for Jane’s throat like she expects, or even the swinging blow of a slap. No, Regina clutches Jane’s blue top and there’s this weird pressure in her chest until in a sudden flurry of motion, Emma is pulling Regina away, momentum carrying them all the way to the wall.
“Jesus Christ, Regina,” Emma mutters. “After all the crap you give me about appropriate behavior, you’re ripping hearts over dinner? Pretty sure Miss Manners doesn’t allow for that.”
“She was threatening to take Henry from us!”
“She what?” Emma spins, still holding Regina back, her own eyes shooting daggers at Jane now. “What the fuck, Jane?”
“Jane was merely concerned that you may be… experiencing some mental health symptoms. And while you both seek treatment, perhaps Henry would be better off in a temporary care situation.”
“You seriously want my kid in the system?” Emma is the one advancing now, Regina smirking behind her like the Sorcerer’s Apprentice just graduated to the assault portion of her training. “After all the shit I told you--stuff I have never shared with another living soul--you’re throwing it around as an option? Like it’s just two weeks in Cabo for him?” There are angry tears in Emma’s eyes. “Fuck you, <i>Detective</i>.”
“Emma, I’m worried about you,” Jane pleads, getting to her feet now, arms held up in a gesture of surrender. “The things you said to me--”
“Maybe it would help if I heard the whole story?” Maura suggests. “I’m not a professional psychiatrist, but I did a rotation and maintain a healthy interest in forensic psychiatry. I should be able to determine the scope of the delusions, at least. Then we can discuss options for Henry.”
“My understanding of delusions,” Regina counters. “Is that they’re usually unique to the individual. It’s almost impossible for two people to believe exactly the same thing, isn’t it?”
“Well, there’s a phenomenon known in simple terms as ‘folie à deux’,” Maura muses. “But even then it tends to be the sharing of one traumatic event, with the reactions diverging as time passes.”
“My moms are telling the truth,” Henry interrupts. “And if you try to take me from them, I’m ready to run away. I know they’ll always find me, and I’m willing to bet you won’t.”
“Then, please,” Maura insists, pointing back at the table. “Emma, you haven’t even eaten yet. Let’s talk about this. And Jane, no more threats until we’ve heard the whole story.”
“Okay, but I want you to know that I’m not screwing around here. Any other time you’d need a Clydesdale to drag me away from the hospital when both of my partners are still in there. I don’t even know if Korsak is gonna be okay yet…”
“We can call in a little while,” Maura suggests. “Emma, I missed the story in the car, so if you could start at the beginning?”
“I’m the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming,” Emma snaps, taking her seat with no grace at all and grabbing her food. “I came through a portal that was a wardrobe on one side, and a tree on this side. Someone else came with me, a kid, and that’s why I was found by a freeway. He took me there.”
“A portal,” Maura says quite calmly, like this is just another interrogation she’s sitting in on.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Jane says, almost choking on her Coke. “You don’t have a problem with anything in that sentence?”
“There are studies in theoretical physics that support the premise,” Maura returns, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “And alternate universes are well-documented, even in popular media.” She turns to study Emma. “But why would your parents send you through a portal?”
“That’s where Regina comes in.” Emma mumbles around a mouthful of burger.
“She’s the Evil Queen.” Jane jeers.
“Was the Evil Queen.” Henry counters. “She cast a curse that sent everyone here to our world, only they didn’t remember who they really were. Snow and Charming knew that Emma was destined to be the Savior, so they sent her away so she wouldn’t be cursed too.”
“A form of failsafe,” Maura surmises. “Now, this sending you away, was it part of a prophecy? Or simply their best guess at a solution?”
“A prophecy,” Emma answers, looking suspicious about how quickly Maura is buying this. “I couldn’t break the curse until I was 28. And I didn’t know the first thing about it until Henry showed up on my birthday.”
“That’s unusual,” Maura points out. “Usually in myths, the hero is born into their destiny. Lots of foretelling and mentoring, that sort of thing.”
“Maura, do I need a psych hold for you next? Wait, did you do something to her when…”
“When she brought Dr. Isles back to life?” Regina fills in, more malicious than helpful. “Using magic, of course.”
“Okay, before we start throwing that word around--” Jane starts to argue, but Maura is locked in and processing hard.
“It’s been theorized that magic is simply an ability to manipulate nature at an elemental level,” she informs the group. “Would you say that’s an accurate reflection of how you treated me? Of what you did at the lab?”
Emma is looking at Regina for an answer, and Jane’s struck by the simple trust in that. Emma, who’d kick a person in the shins before asking them for help, is waiting for someone else to tag in and fight the fight with her. Even over the span of years, on and off, Jane never got that kind of ease around her.
“Magic,” Regina begins to answer, “at least our magic, relies heavily on emotion. It shouldn’t be possible in this world, but it seems as though there are areas -- pockets, I suppose -- where it has bled through. I believe that, plus our heightened emotions -- myself for Henry and Emma for Jane -- caused us to be able to use magic here, where there should be none. As for your original question, yes, I would say that in some cases magic allows nature to be manipulated in such a way.”
“It also depends on the type, right?” Emma asks. “Light or dark, they deal with different elements. Healing versus harming and stuff.”
“Why, Miss Swan,” Regina teases. “You’ve been paying attention.”
“Doesn’t sound like you, Swan,” Jane adds.
“You try having what feels like nuclear power surging through your fingers,” Emma grunts. “You’d do some asking around too.”
“This is all fascinating,” Jane continues. “But whether I believe you or not--”
“And you don’t,” Emma accuses.
“No, I don’t.” Jane isn’t scared to say so. “I need a version of events that can be typed up for Boston PD files. That’s what it all comes down to.”
“Wait,” Maura says, her brain finally catching up, “you said that your magic was based on emotion and that Emma used hers based on her emotion for Jane. But she saved me, not Jane. Emma barely knows me.”
“Six of one, half dozen of another, really.” Emma shrugs. “You were bleeding out and Jane was freaking out. She begged for help. I couldn’t --” Jane sees it then, in the brief look that Emma gives her before she looks back at Maura. She sees just how much Emma does care and just how hurt she is over all of this. And Jane knows she’s right -- she had begged and Emma had helped. And then she’d turned around and called her crazy, played right into all of her fears. “I knew what losing you would do to her and I couldn’t let that happen. So I just made it work. Regina helped some.”
“Thank you,” Jane says quietly, because whatever else happened in the past 24 hours, Emma definitely did something that means Maura is sitting here at the table with them. “I can’t believe, for the record, that Little Miss Science and Rationality is sitting here asking what magic saved her life.”
“You mean me?” Maura is pouting at the accusation.
“Yeah, what happened to that medical rule thing you’re always telling me? Assume hoofbeats are horses, all that crap.”
“But don’t you see?” Maura argues right back. “That’s exactly what I am doing. The evidence suggests that what Emma and Regina tell us is true. That I don’t yet have the scientific knowledge to analyze the power doesn’t make it less real. It just shows that science still has a way to go. And punishing people for things you don’t understand is more in line with Salem than what I expected of you, Jane.”
“Who’s punishing anyone?” Jane demands. “I’m listening, aren’t I?”
“You’ve been cold to Emma. Mean, even. And she’s supposed to be your friend.”
“Well, that’s because you’ve all gone nuts in the space of one day! Jesus!”
“Jane. I know you’re not entirely comfortable with divergent views that fundamentally alter your worldview--”
“Or really big words,” Emma snorts.
“But I don’t see the point in denying what we’ve all witnessed. Whether we choose to keep it within the bounds of this room is another discussion, and one we need to have now. I must confess, the scientist in me wants to fall on my knees and beg for a chance to study this power of yours. Then again, I can see why that would make you feel a little threatened. People like you haven’t been treated kindly by science over the years.”
Regina tenses and Jane can tell that she’s thinking of something that has happened to her in the past. “You would be correct about that, Dr. Isles.”
“Hey,” Emma interrupts, leaning over the table towards Regina, nodding at Henry to back her up. “With everything that’s been going on, I didn’t get a chance to… he can’t hurt you again, Regina. It’s done. They’re done.”
“I’m well aware,” Regina does the bossy, dismissive thing, but Jane’s too good at her job to miss the quirk of Regina’s lips for half a second. Maybe she doesn’t hate being fussed over as much as she likes to make out.
“I won’t let anyone else hurt you.” Emma says, the words so soft Jane barely hears them, but the sincerity is so strong she feels it tug at her heart.
“Me either.” Henry responds then and Regina looks away, Jane guesses, to hide her tears.
“Aren’t you both charming?” She says a moment later and it’s clearly a tease.
“Sure are.” Henry grins. “I mean, I totally have to grow up to be a hero now, right? Talk about destiny.”
“Being a hero isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, kid,” Emma warns, but she’s smiling at him all the same.
“Tell me about it,” Jane adds. “Okay, so the report’s gonna read Emma got Henry down from the walkway thing. Regina shot Greg in self-defence. And I took out Tamara after Maura dropped because I thought she’d shot her in the confusion. Luckily I was wrong about the shot. That much is easy to sell.”
“More problematic,” Maura picks up the thread, ever the perfect tag team member. “Is the discrepancy between reported injuries and what we were actually treated for. And a cursory explanation of the crime scene will show that Henry was actually on the pulley. Not to mention that walkway is falling apart. And if CSU does any work, they’ll find my blood on the ground.”
“But they’re only gonna do that if anyone pokes around with awkward questions. Sure, it’s an officer-involved shooting, but it’s a clean one, with plenty of witnesses,” Emma points out. “What? I do know some stuff about procedure. Sheriff, remember?”
“Yeah, witnesses like Frankie and Korsak who also know that Maura was bleeding out.” Jane frowns. “And I think Frankie saw the tractor beam thing.”
“They were compromised by pain and a heart attack respectively,” Maura interjects. “It wouldn’t be difficult to convince them they were mistaken. Especially if you were calling out to me, they may have imagined my injuries as worse than they were.”
“Well, you can’t convince them,” Jane snaps. “Unless you want to break out in hives. Maura isn’t big on lying,” she explains, for everyone else’s benefit.
“Regina and I don’t have that problem.” Emma assures. “I’ll handle Frankie and Regina can handle her new husband if -- when the time comes.”
“I don’t think we’ll need it,” Jane says, rubbing her face with her hand. “It might be best if you all haul ass back to Maine once the statements are signed. People are less likely to go around re-interviewing when its out of state. And no way my own brother or Vince does anything to get me in trouble. I don’t need outside help on that.”
“We will gladly ‘haul ass’, as you put it,” Regina agrees.
“Mom!” Henry gasps. “How come you’re allowed to say that and I’m not?”
“Because I was repeating what someone else said,” Regina points out. “Besides, you’re already picking up enough bad habits from Emma.”
“On that note,” Emma announces, scrunching up her burger wrapper and throwing it back in the bag. “I think we’ve imposed on you enough. There’s an apartment waiting for us to sleep this off, and a car to retrieve.”
“You’ll come by the station for loose ends?” Jane presses, her gut reacting to the prospect of Emma bolting, true to form.
“And, if you have time, I’d love to talk to you more about your powers. If you’d be amenable, of course...” Maura adds, in full Poindexter mode.
“We’ll see about that,” Emma hedges. “It’s just my parents will be out of their minds by now, and we should get back as soon as we can.” And damn, but it’s still so weird to hear Emma talk about parents. “But definitely all paperwork first, before you start again, Riz.”
“Call me when you’ve had some shuteye,” Jane offers. “You want me to drive you?”
“Can we take a cab?” Emma asks. “It’s just… and I say this with love, but I’m kind of ready for some family time.” And if hearing Emma talk about parents was weird, that takes the cake over everything, even all the talk of magic and fairy tale characters.
“Uh, yeah. Of course.”
“If you call us one, we’re gonna get some fresh air while we wait,” Emma suggests. “We all need to walk these burgers off for a few minutes.”
“You can wait on the porch,” Maura offers. “You saw it on the way in. I’ll turn on the light for you.”
“Thank you,” Regina says, and damn if she doesn’t actually seem to mean it. “For everything. If anything had happened to Henry, I--”
“But it didn’t,” Jane reassures her. For a moment she considers chancing a comforting pat on the arm, but it’s not worth the risk of being turned into a toad or what-the-hell-ever. “Happy to help, you guys know that.”
“See you sometime after lunch,” Emma says, leading Henry towards the door and lingering long enough to make sure Regina is caught up in their little procession. Jane watches them go, and when she turns to Maura there’s something in the moment that feels like… well, like two women who spend a lot of time together and God, wouldn’t Maura be just the loveliest thing raising a kid?
Jane shakes her head, because for all the teasing, that’s not an option on the menu. At least not in any way that involves her. She should be thinking about this kind of thing with Casey and somehow the image just won’t form. Jane closes her eyes for a second, pictures another chubby Rizzoli baby with dark, curly hair, and it’s not hard to see herself holding him. But when she tries to put Casey in the picture, she only sees Maura’s face, and that’s… okay, that can get blamed on the insanity of the week. Probably.
“Do you think they’ll be together now?” Maura asks, shattering the easy silence and pulling Jane out of her conflicted thoughts. “I mean, do you think they’re aware of the attraction signifiers they mutually display? They seemed quite oblivious before.”
“Emma Swan just used the words ‘family time’, so I suppose anything is possible.” Jane shrugs.
“Anything?” Maura asks, her voice taking on a teasing tone. “Even magic?”
“Maura--” Jane starts to warn, but there’s a commotion from the porch and she’s instantly on alert and moving.
“God, I will be so glad to get back to my apartment,” Emma groans, hauling herself up onto the porch railing, heels kicking against the panels. “What about you, kid? Ready to get out of the big city yet?”
“I haven’t really seen Boston this time either,” Henry sighs. “Greg and Tamara didn’t really give me a tour.”
“We could come back another time,” Regina suggests. “I always wanted to take you places, Henry.”
“Can Emma come too?” He asks, and Emma pretends not to notice the way Regina’s face falls. “Only, she lived here, so she’ll know all the cool places.”
“Right,” Regina says, voice tight enough to snap.
“I could just write down some cool places and directions,” Emma suggests. “Besides, my idea of cool places might not line up with yours. I’m sure your mom would have a better idea what you like and it’s not like she can’t Google.”
“But I like this!” Henry whines, and suddenly Emma sees the very tired and still-scared kid behind the ‘everything’s fine’ facade he clearly picked up from Regina. “I like when I get both of you. Nobody is mad. Nobody is left behind.”
“Well, aside from the kidnapping and mortal danger,” Regina says softly. “I suppose it hasn’t been all bad. I could maybe stand a whole weekend in your company, Miss Swan. We’ve almost managed that already.”
“It’s Emma,” she insists. “And as travel buddies go, you’re not the worst I’ve shared a car and a skanky motel room with.”
“You stayed in a motel?” Henry perks up at the mention of some new experience. “Can I stay in one on the way home?”
“We’ll see,” Regina says. “For now, there’s a perfectly decent apartment waiting. Is that the taxi?” She asks at the sound of an approaching car. Henry runs off the porch in anticipation, and Emma is about to follow him until she sees the way Regina has frozen in panic.
“Regina? Regina!” She yells. “What the… Henry, it’s not our cab, get back here!”
“His… oh, no,” Regina murmurs.
“What?” Emma asks, frantically looking Henry over for some injury that they’ve missed. “His what, Regina? What’s wrong?”
“Henry,” Regina says, suddenly much calmer and faking yet another comforting smile. “Come here, sweetheart.”
“What is it, Mom?” Regina clears her throat, and it’s almost like she’s nervous around their son all of a sudden.
“Henry... where’s your shadow?”
Jane throws open the front door then, no doubt alerted by their shouting, and in the fresh source of light, Emma sees exactly what Regina means. Where Henry’s shadow should be, stretching out just beside Regina’s, there’s only light spilling across the porch.
Emma isn’t sure exactly what that means, but she is sure what kind of luck she has when it comes to anything magic. Henry missing a shadow is bad news, and she’s about to find out exactly how bad.