Once Upon a Time 1. The Offer

**Disclaimer: I do not own_ Once Upon a Time_. Sadly. **

**Summary: After Henry's death in Neverland the Charmings follow his last wish and return to the Enchanted Forest with the inhabitants of Storybrooke. Only Regina stays on Earth with a wish to leave everything and everyone she has ever known behind. But on the road awaits an unexpected company who can help her broken and painful heart heal...**

**A/N: I am not a native speaker and I don't have a beta, so please tell me about every mistake I make. I also apologise for overusing commas. I would like to dedicate this little piece of writing to Cheyennesis. Thank you, my dear, for everything. :***

**Enjoy and let me know what you think!**

* * *

It was bloody hot in the car the whole day. The sun was hanging on the sky so high it seemed like it never wanted to leave the welkin. The flies were buzzing around which would have definitely driven her crazy some time ago. Some time ago when life had seemed so complicated and screwed up, but in fact it had been easy and pleasant, she knew that now. Nothing could be so easy and pleasant anymore.

She was on the run. On the run from her life, from her past, from everything. But it wasn't exactly the run in its dictionary definition. It was more like an escape. From what? She tried not to think about it. She tried not to think about anything as she drove ahead, not knowing where she was heading and not caring about her destination at all. Not caring about anything at all. Everything lost its significance. In her blank mind and now dried eyes there was nothing more but the thought of escape, even though she knew all to well she couldn't run away from what had happened. Yes, she could try, but to no avail. There was no escape from such a loss.

It definitely wasn't the first time she had lost someone. In fact, she had lost everyone the average human could lose. But this time... This time was different in every possible aspect. She had thought before that Daniel's death had shattered her hopes and completely changed her life, destroying all the happiness and dreams they had shared. She had thought nothing could be worse. Now she just prayed she had never got the chance to find out that there was something worse than the death of her true love, those shattered hopes and destroyed dreams.

She felt hot tears gathering in her eyes again. Quick movement of the hand and they were gone, vanishing in an instant. She wished she could erase last events as easily as the tears. She wished nothing more than turning back the clock. She would change what had happened. If she wouldn't be able to get to him on time, she would just die with him. And everything would be easier. In fact, she had a better idea. She would die instead of him. She should have been in his shoes. She should have.

During the last month life had been hell. Some parody of existence where she had been forced to play one of the main roles against her will. It wasn't a life, it was a caricature of it. One of her endless nightmares, but this time she couldn't wake up from it. And there was no chance to ever wake up.

So she just drove, trying hard not to think. Thinking hurt. Feeling hurt. Everything hurt.

* * *

After few hours of driving she was more blank than ever and additionally exhausted because of all the attempts to keep her mind in the state of suspension. But she could fight it no more. Her brain unwillingly started to work, denying the future, avoiding the present and digging in her past. Maybe in the end past was all she got. So she let her mind wander in the area of her previous so lucky karma.

Life was cruel. She had always known that and could have never done anything to change it. So instead of making the world a better place she had embraced its cruelty and not only let it live along and flourish, but also written her own page in the history of ruthlessness. Her own new chapter which had started not because of her, but had been continued only of her free will. She knew she could have made it stop. She knew she could have had a better life and made the world a more pleasant place to live in. But she hadn't. She couldn't have. What had been standing on her way beside revenge? Her pride maybe. Or the power. Being on the good side meant rejecting all of these. Who would she be without her pride, dignity and power? She would have had only the feeling she had been doing the right thing. Back then it hadn't seemed enough. Maybe now it would.

Her mind suddenly shifted to present and even though she tried to stop it, it was too late to change its course. She knew that now it would be enough. But it was already too late to check it. It was too late for everything and especially for a change. Besides, for who would she change? For the memory of someone?

Someone. She couldn't even think about him anymore. Every thought made her want to park lethally in the nearest tree. Pain was flooding from her heart and reaching every single cell in her body, pain million times worse than the one she had felt after Daniel's death.

Seeing the death of so many people, causing the death of even more people, she knew all to well life was cruel. But she had never suspected it could be so cruel. To take the life of an eleven-year-old boy, whose only crime had been a possession of too much hope, love and innocence. He had done nothing wrong, he had just been the purest and strongest of them all. Was it a reason why he had to die? Maybe. Maybe that had made him unprepared for the harsh reality of the life outside of his small glass box made of dreams. Sweet dreams where everyone in his family, everyone in Storybrooke or The Enchanted Forest was happy. Sweet dreams that will never come true, because without him their basics had just fallen apart and stopped existing. Without him not only they had stopped existing.

He was the reason why Storybrooke had vanished from the Earth. She wished she could share its fate. He was the reason why all its inhabitants and almost all his family had finally returned to their homeland. She wished she could be able to deal with his death the way they did. But she had no support, no shoulder to lean on, no one to understand. They didn't understand. They were only pretending.

He had always been the reason why she had been trying. Trying to be the good mother, trying not to kill the other side of his family, trying to earn his love. Without him she realised what she had really been aware of her entire life: she was a failure. She had felt it the whole time. She had been a failure as a daughter: her father had loved her, but he had loved her just like a parent should – without expectations, hopes and dreams, unconditionally. Her mother on the other hand... She had never been good enough for Cora. No matter what she would have done, it had always been wrong. Because she had been one hell of a failure in her mother's eyes. She had been a failure as a one true love: she had been the cause of Daniel's death. She couldn't have saved him. She had been a failure as a wife: she had never even tried to fulfill any of her 'duties' as a king's wife, because she had never cared about her husband. And in the end she had been the one to end Leopold's life. She had been a failure as a villain: her enemies had been always winning. And, most importantly, she had been a failure as a mother. She hadn't been able to keep her own son safe. And now he was gone, but this time for good. He hadn't decided to stay with his birth mother. He hadn't said she was a villain and walked away. He had died and nothing could bring him back this time.

New stream of tears escaped her eyes before she could stop them. The picture of Henry dying in her and Emma's arms was embedded in her mind – she saw it every time she let her lids cover her irises. She hadn't got to say goodbye to him, it had already been too late for that. And now she even couldn't remember what were her last words to him.

Strong light flashed before her eyes and she instinctively turned the steering wheel right, in the last moment avoiding the contact with the huge white truck. The smell of burned rubber spread in the air as the car slid on the surface of the carriageway. The vehicle wiped out and the wheels scrunched on the gravel that covered the roadside. Few meters further the car stopped, forced by a fierce push on the brake, raising the cloud of dust from the surface.

Her heart was beating few times faster than it should when it all stopped. She was sitting in the car trying to calm her breathing, sweat gathering on her forehead. She knew she had pushed the break too late and it could have ended badly. She just wished she hadn't pushed it at all. Damned instinct to protect the life won this time.

She stayed there for a longer while, just breathing and staring at the empty landscape in front of her. Empty to the same degree as she was. Eventually she wiped her face with her sleeve, removing the remains of tears and sweat and looked impatiently at the panel of the car. Every possible indicator light was red, including the one showing petrol level. She sighed and looked around. Thank God no one stopped to give her the piece of their mind about her road stunt. The fewer people the better. The traffic was mild and the surroundings weren't promising. Just the fields and plains around, without the sight of any civilization. She had to find some station if she wanted to continue this escape of hers and she had to do it fast. Outside of Storybrooke she might be completely powerless. She hadn't checked it yet and she didn't intend to do it in the nearest future. Especially not with the fueling.

Reluctantly she backed the car down and returned to the road. It was still boiling hot inside of the vehicle, but with the speed she hit after few seconds the wind made sitting there more bearable.

Few miles later, when the petrol control started blinking alarmingly, she saw a station. It was on the other side of the road, but who cared? She turned off and stopped the car where it was convenient.

Keeping her mind busy by focusing on the details she got out of the vehicle and looked around. It was the strange station – it served more as a restaurant apparently. It had only one pump and was self service. The building itself had a peculiar shape of a letter 'L'. The half of one part seemed to hide a typical shop and cashier's, the rest had to be some fancy vintage restaurant judging from the exterior.

Really fascinating place.

She quickly helped herself with the fueling and went toward the door on her left that led inside the shop. Her hand reached for the door knob, but the door appeared to be closed. She turned and walked around the building to find the other door which led to the restaurant. Basing from the noises, smells and chaos inside there were plenty of people. 'Plenty of people' definitely wasn't something she needed; in fact it was the last thing she would desire. For a short period of time she thought about fleeing without payment, but the security guy standing nearby shot her a suspicious glance. She could try to make him forget. Or not. Who knows what she was able to do now and here? Without second thoughts she cast the guy a fake smile and entered the building.

It was vintage as she suspected. New slash old long benches were standing next to the tables that were maintained in the same style. There was a smell of beer and sweaty men in the air. And definitely too many of them paid attention to her as she entered. She quickly looked away, seeking a counter. There it was, in the angle of the building and with a piece of paper on it, saying that payments for fuel were taken there. She approached it and looked around for anyone who would take mentioned payment, but there was no one from the service in the plain sight. Few seconds later she started knocking her nails against the wooden counter impatiently, like she was in a hurry. Funny. In the hurry to do what?

"Well, well, well, chop my other hand off if that's not the queen that my eyes are seeing." She suddenly heard these words behind her. She turned on her heals abruptly, recognizing this voice in an instant.

Her ears weren't mistaken apparently, because her eyes confirmed what she had just heard. Two senses couldn't broke in the same time. Few steps ahead of her, sitting on the bench with legs stretched and placed on the table, equipped with a mug, was no one else but captain Hook. He was wearing the same robes as always, but missing the object that stood behind his nickname. She snickered.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped, casting the pirate an angry look. He smirked and she realised that was exactly what he expected to hear. "I mean, what are you doing here?" she changed the tone and faked a smile.

For the first time in a month she felt something else than pain – anger. She was really pissed off by seeing him here. The only thing she wanted was to get away from everything and everyone that could remind her about what had happened. She had it on a constant replay, she didn't need a reminder. Hook definitely was one. One irritating, annoying to an endless degree reminder.

"I'm... enjoying the views." His eyes followed one of the scantily clad waitress, so there was no doubt what views he was talking about.

"Views, you say," she sniffed, turning away and continuing her knocking, this time more impatiently. He sometimes behave like a child that would never grow up.

"There would be some quite good views for you too, if you care to join me," he said and she heard the sound of the mug put away on the table.

"No, thanks, I think I will pass." She turned a little with a grimace only to see him standing up. All her strong will was needed to refrain from rolling her eyes.

Some young man finally appeared behind the counter and took interest in receiving her payment. In the meantime Regina desperately thought how to get rid of Hook quickly and painlessly, if it was even remotely possible.

She hadn't seen him in month, since they had returned from Neverland. She had no idea if he had been around all this time or left in some unknown direction. She simply hadn't cared. And she still didn't care. Did he always have to jump in the middle of something he didn't understand and break it? He was just ruining her own escape. The only thing she hoped for was to cut off from her past, from everything that connected her with the Enchanted Forest, Storybrooke or Neverland. And again, he was an obvious link.

The service man had to go to the other side of the building to bring her change, so her attention became unattached again. She didn't turn though.

"I thought you came back to the Enchanted Forest with the sweet little family of six." His tone reverted into more serious one. He had to sense she was in no mood for little chat, jokes or sarcasm in general.

"I didn't, as you can see in the inclosed picture." She was in no mood for the talk at all. And especially not with the one of few people who were _there_ when _all of this _had happened. But, knowing he wasn't the kind of person that gave up easily and driven by the sheer curiosity she finally faced him and asked, "I can tell the same about you. Why did you stay?"

He was half-standing half-sitting on the table, observing her closely. During the moment of silence she thought about their acquaintance. Neverland had changed it and the dynamic they once had had. But it wasn't anything peculiar – Neverland had changed everything, starting from small, little things, details normally not worth mentioning and ending with serious stuff. Her relationships with everyone had modified and in the last month she hadn't tried to put the foundations for the new ones. What for if she wasn't going to meet any of them ever again anyway? She hadn't been burning all of her bridges intentionally though. She just hadn't cared, secretly and not so secretly blaming everyone for Henry's death. Because in fact no one was innocent. They all had played their little parts in the tragedy that had led to his death. They were all to blame, maybe equally responsible, maybe not. And all of them had been dealing with it differently. She doubted Hook was dealing with it at all. It wasn't his problem, was it?

"That world has nothing more to offer me. You haven't seen it after the curse, but I did. I lived in it. Trust me, there is nothing worth coming back to." His eyes never left hers while he was speaking. "And there I had the choice between the empty world the charming Charmings can repopulate and the unknown world pulsing with life, hazard, new perspectives and opportunities. It wasn't a difficult decision."

"Great," she commented falsely. The service man came back and handed her the change. She thanked him and walked away from the counter. "It was a nice chat but now I have to go, so... bye."

Her reflex was lately a little bit rusty, so she didn't notice Hook changing his position until he barred the exit with his arm right under her nose.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" he asked with this smile of his, completely ignoring the furious look she cast him and added with more serious attitude, "What are you running away from?"

"Maybe currently from you, didn't you think about such a possibility?" she snapped, pushing him away and abruptly leaving the building. She prayed he wouldn't follow her, but that wasn't a likely scenario. He did follow her, of course.

"Why did you stay, Regina?" he asked, curiosity and caution in his voice.

"That's none of your freaking business," she replied, not bothering to stop the walk to her car.

"I think that is my freaking business when there is no one else to turn you away from your journey to perdition."

She burst out laughing and faced him eventually.

"My journey to perdition? Are you drunk?" Her laugh had nothing to do with laughter of joy. It was cold, full of anger and irony.

"I don't suppose so," he answered casually. "I am just drawing conclusions."

"You are jumping to conclusions, that's what you are doing," she corrected, stressing the word 'jumping'.

"If you're so eager to determine the right word, we can verify it," he retorted, leaning against one of the parked cars. "Few hours ago a car with description matching yours almost crashed into the truck which indicates some serious suicidal tendencies. You don't have anything to do since Storybrooke destruction, but you pretend to be in a hurry, so you don't want to have contact with people." He paused and looked inside her car through the window. "You haven't taken anything with you, which means you just want to drive. All of it betokens you are running away from life."

She winked, surprised.

"I have eyes." He shrugged, taking a step forward.

"Well, congratulations, Sherlock. I didn't notice when you have done the degree in psychology. Anything else you would like to add?" She crossed her arms on her chest and looked at him expectantly. He got on her nerves severely, but she had to admit that she was a little bit impressed. It didn't change the fact she was pissed of and wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible.

"Yeah, who is Sherlock?" He frowned and she had to refrain from laughing after seeing his confused expression.

"Never mind. Let's focus on you, shall we?" She decided the best way to discard him was to shift attention from her to him. "You didn't come back home because you don't treat it like home. Why? Because you don't have home or anyone to come back to. You are afraid of memories that come with that place and guaranteed loneliness that would be the only thing awaiting you there."

She smiled proudly and cruelly, certain she won this round.

"I guess that makes two of us," he replied, unmoved.

"I'm nothing like you!" Her anger rose. That was not the answer she was expecting. "I don't make rush decisions that can only lead to desperate search for coming back to the Enchanted Forest pretending I have a reasonable explanation for them."

"It sounds like you are worried about me." He smirked, looking at her victoriously. She took a deep breath to calm her shattered nerves.

"I'm not..." She paused, knowing this road will lead to nowhere. The change in tactic was needed. So she just smiled and ended nonchalantly, "I'm just curious how I could overestimate your intelligence so much."

"Oh." He still looked calm and unmoved. She didn't have the patience to stand him any longer, so she turned to her car and was about to open the door when he spoke again. "Henry would like to see you happy and living your life."

Her anger was immediately replaced by fury. She turned to her interlocutor with the attitude of a wild beast.

"Don't you dare talk about Henry! Did you even know him?" Every nerve in her body was tense and ready to attack. She wasn't going to talk about Henry. Her brain consisted of her son and only him and she really wanted to come back to this individual kind of grieving, but all of those thoughts couldn't leave her mind. That was the sacred area and no one, no one was allowed to invade it.

Besides, she was quite sure that once those thoughts seep through the tames she had created there will be no coming back and she would simply fall apart completely. Not talking and just running away was stopping her from breaking and shattering into tiny pieces of despair. She had fallen before. Counting only major breakdowns when she had thought she wouldn't be able to breathe ever again and not the moments she had just wished she was dead - twice, once with Emma around and second time on her own in her house. Third time's the charm, right? After this third time she would not be able to live another day. Additionally, she would never forgive herself for breaking down in front of Hook. She hated miss Swan, but Emma had been mourning Henry as well. It had been a completely different thing.

"I didn't have the pleasure of getting to know him, which I sincerely regret." He was truthful, she could sense that. "But I know that every son loving his mother wouldn't want her to mourn forever."

"You know nothing," she hissed few inches from his face, too many things in her mind to speak them aloud. Forever? How could he use that word when Henry had been dead for only a month? What was a month for a mother that had just lost her son? It was nothing, just a fleeting moment. She still felt like it all had happened yesterday.

But she didn't ask him any of those questions. She didn't need his answers. She had to turn away for a second, so he wouldn't see the tears that were gathering in her eyes, then decided to ramble on about anything, just to end this conversation in some decent way and fight her way out of this situation. At that time she would be able to drive away and cry alone in the safe interior of her car. An excellent idea.

"What do you even know about this world, hm?" she asked casually, holding the tears successfully. She was good at pretending to be stronger than she really was. "Pulsing with life? That's not enough. And what do you know about this life that it's pulsing with? About its habits, culture, money, cars? You know nothing at all."

"I think I know enough." He brought out a thick roll of money from his pocket and waved it with a cunning smile.

"Oh, you think you know anything about stealing? I don't think so." She smiled innocently, finally turning his attention away from her own life.

"Tell me about it," he said carefully, hiding the money.

"Well, in this world it's not so easy. There are forces of law that usually are pretty good in catching criminals. They use finger prints, security footage, ballistics, DNA matches, anything they could find." With satisfaction she watched as his expression turned gloomy. "You also think that you know something about guns, right? But you don't. You may know how to use it, but you have no idea what bullets are proper for specific kinds of guns, how to clean it after the shot to leave no trace. And that's only criminal world, where you would obviously belong, don't even get me started about the others. But most importantly you won't survive here long without an identity."

"I have an identity," he denied vividly.

"Oh, so you have an ID card? Or a driving license? Health insurance? Any document that would allow you to live here?"

"You know I don't," he gave up, a little traces of resignation could be heard in his voice.

"So good luck surviving here on your own." She smiled sweetly and finally managed to open the door.

"It all sounds like I would need a guide." He closed it instantly, leaning against her car next to where she was standing and looking at her expectantly.

Only after a moment did she realise what he meant.

"Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?" she asked slowly, carefully choosing words.

"Yes," he answered quickly.

"No," she replied sternly even quicker. No way.

"Come on, that would be fun! Would you like to miss all these hilarious situations when you say something about famous fictional characters and I have no idea who you are talking about? You could show me how to survive in this world. We can be famous in this criminal world where _we_ obviously belong. We can be like..." he paused for a second, taming his enthusiasm a little. "Well, I have no idea who, but I am sure you would find a good reference."

"No," she repeated firmly and opened the door one more time, holding it strongly and making sure he wouldn't close it again.

"_No_ meaning you won't find a reference or meaning you won't be my guide?" he inquired nonchalantly.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Another sweet smile and a little bit of venom in her voice appeared additionally.

"So what, you will just leave me here alone? You know, while conquering this world together we wouldn't be so lonely, haunted by memories and driven by unrealized revenges. It would be a brave new world, my dear."

He was persistent, she had to give him credit for that. But playing on her emotions? Seriously?

She sat in the car and reached for the door-knob, looking up at him for one last time.

"Goodbye, Hook," she said and closed the door.

Still she could hear his words as he was shouting them from where he was standing, "Think about it! My offer will be valid until the end of this day."

She shook her head with a little smile, corrected the mirror, started the engine and drove away without looking back.

* * *

There was a thing worse than pain. It was lonely pain. Loneliness exceeded to the eternity, so clear and non time-consuming that every second could be separated from the other. And every one of those seconds wrote its own symphony of pain with parts for all possible instruments. There was nothing that would prevent them from playing the music of despair. Nothing to kill the time, nothing to turn the thoughts away, nothing to terminate the loneliness. Unless...

She almost burst out laughing aloud. Did she really think about going back, even for a second or was it just an illusion?

It wasn't an illusion. She did think about going back. But why did she give some thought to it? It was ridiculous to even consider such a possibility. She needed the eternity on her own to suffer the way she wanted, didn't she?

A dissimilar feeling started puncturing through the surface of her pain. For the first time in a long time her thoughts got off their track and wandered into different areas. Maybe... maybe she shouldn't have been lonely? Maybe Henry wouldn't have liked her to be lonely?

Today's truck wasn't an isolated case since her son's death when she had been really close to death just because she hadn't cared. Few more hours, days or weeks and she was quite sure this new suicidal tendencies of hers would get what they wanted.

"_You know..." _Swan's voice reverberated in her mind. The conversation they had had merely few days ago had been one of not so many moments when they had addressed each other like equal mothers. And that had been the only moment Regina had really listened to what Emma had been saying. _"I like to think he is in a better place right now. Some there up in the sky or wherever. It doesn't really matter where, what matters is... I just believe he is happy now. Cheerful, hopeful and loving, just as he was here. And... I am sure he will be watching us and guard us the way we didn't manage to guard him. And he would like us to be happy. To continue his mission of spreading love and hope. So that when we meet again we would be able to say 'we didn't let you down again'. I... I hope you will remember that."_

Tears, those stupid tears were rolling down Regina's cheeks once again. Had Emma been right? Probably yes. But... how could she 'continue the mission of spreading love and hope' without Henry? Was it even possible?

Few meters further she knew one thing: she will never know if it was possible if she wouldn't try. Was Hook's offer appropriate for the first attempt? Again: she will never know if she wouldn't give it a try.

She pulled over and stopped the car. Henry had always wanted her to do the right thing, to help people. Turning back and accepting Hook's offer would definitely be a good deed. The captain might be clever, cunning and resourceful, but without the basic knowledge of technology, law, some rules that defined this world he would end up in jail with a life sentence or in a laughing academy sooner rather than later. He needed help. It would be a good deed. Something Henry would like her to do.

There was also another issue: she felt she owed Hook something. After all, he had helped them in last harsh period of time. He had come back with the bean, transported them to Neverland and had a big part in making their survival there possible. They all owed him something. Of course it wasn't her and only her responsibility to repay him, but she was the only one left standing in this world and had a chance to compensate him for everything he had done.

Still, it wasn't easy to decide. She wasn't the kind of the person that was ever willing to pay back anything other than bad deeds. An idea popped suddenly into her head. People native for this world often made lists of pros and cons – it helped them decide what to do with a certain issue or at least that was what she had heard. It had usually seemed ridiculous, but this time... This time it could be an ultimate way to solve the problem. She didn't have anything to lose considering she had already lost everything that had been there to lose, so...

She sighed and started the list in her brain. Pros: she wouldn't be so lonely; she wouldn't probably have another chance to silently agree with her suicidal tendencies, although it could be both a pro and a con; Henry would approve it; it would be a good deed indeed which usually served as a pro for normal people; a repayment; some... fun along the way? She wasn't able to even truly smile right now, so that one should be crossed out, but still it was some kind of an advantage. Cons: she wouldn't be alone which would make silent suffering impossible; Hook was an irritating pain in the ass, driving almost everyone around him crazy most of the time; repeating from the pros, she wouldn't have another chance to follow her suicidal subconsciousness; and... She couldn't think of any other disadvantage.

It was 6 to 3. Pros side clearly won.

_Shit. _

Everything happened in her brain, so she was completely free to trick it into thinking what she wanted and simply continue her escape. But she didn't do it. She turned around instead trying not to analyze the issue again. It might be an impulse she would later regret. It might be the worst decision in her life. Only time will tell.

* * *

It was already pitch dark outside when she arrived at the station second time this day. Hook was leaning against the wall of the building, arms crossed, this smile of his present.

"I knew you would come back," he said when she opened the passenger's door without leaving the car.

"Just shut up and get in before I change my mind."

He obeyed this time and shut the door behind him.

And so the new chapter in Regina Mills's life began.

* * *

**Hope you liked it! Would you like to see a second chapter? Greetings and hugs for everyone who has read it!**


	2. Clothing Hunt

**A/N: Thank you so much for lovely reviews! They really motivate me, so please, keep them coming! **

**I'm sorry for such a late update, but recently I am so busy that I barely find time to write one page a day. I'll try to make another update sooner. For now, I hope you will enjoy chapter 2!**

* * *

„First of all we have to establish some rules." It was the very first sentence she said since she had let him into her car few minutes before.

"I'm listening," he answered, installing his hook on its place and then observing the interior of the vehicle.

"I sincerely doubt it," she sniffed, vouchsafing him with one quick glance.

"Fine, I am all ears now," he murmured, crossing his arms and looking at her almost demandingly.

She didn't need much time to create the rules.

"First, we won't talk about Henry or anything that happened in Neverland." She looked at him expectantly, waiting for any reaction. He nodded.

"Understood," he said and even though she did her best to find sarcasm in his voice she failed. Maybe it was hidden so well it became undetectable.

"Second, you won't try to flirt with me or suggest anything ambiguous."

"Understood." The wild smile that appeared on his lips indicated something completely different. She couldn't help but rolled her eyes.

"Third, you will listen to what I am saying and if I ask you to do something you do it, and not exactly the opposite thing."

"Let's say..." he started, but she didn't give him time to finish.

"No 'let's say'. 'Understood' or get out."

He gave her a dark look, then faked a smile.

"Of course, your Majesty." This time sarcasm was definitely there. "Understood".

"Good. Fourth, you won't touch anything of mine or anything electronic at all without permission."

"Permission?" His voice was filled with unpleasant surprise. "I am not your prisoner."

"Did I finish? No. It's not your time to talk." She didn't even have to look at him to notice he stiffened. Maybe she moved too far. "You are not my prisoner, but it's for your own sake. Knowing you, you would be tempted to press everything that is bright red and says 'do not touch'."

"I didn't realise you know me so well," he snickered.

"Well, I know you better than you think," she answered, not letting her eyes off the road.

"Vice versa, darling." He confused her with this replay, but she decided to keep her thoughts on the right track.

"So...?"

"Understood."

She had few additional things on her mind, but decided to keep them to herself. 'Not talking so often as you use to' was a little bit too much for already tensed atmosphere.

"I will also be grateful if you wouldn't embarrass me in public," she ended, adding a little smile to those words.

"Maybe I should go straight to the monastery, they would have a little less strict rules," he joked, but the atmosphere got a little bit less intense.

"They aren't strict, they are just... necessary precautions, in case you would like to do something stupid, which you do all the time," she said lightly, prolonging the smile. Muscles that were responsible for creating such a grimace seemed to be a little bit sore after not being used for such a long time. "And in case you didn't notice I would like to remind you that you had suicidal tendencies before as well."

"I did?" His interest suddenly rose. He turned on his seat and leant his back against the door, sitting edgeways. "When exactly?"

"There are many examples, but most convincing one was when you shot Belle," she laughed at the memory. "If this car didn't hit you, you would be dead in a blink of an eye."

"Good to know you remember so many facts from my life," he said with an all-knowing smile.

"I just remembered that because it was one of the most stupid things I have ever seen," she retorted quickly and came back to the rules. "So...?" She repeated again and he took the hint.

"Understood," he said for the one last time.

"Good." She smiled victoriously and payed an attention to the road until he spoke again few seconds later.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you are aware of the fact I won't obey any of these rules, aren't you?"

At first she wasn't sure of how to answer. Kick him out of the car, threaten him that he doesn't have a choice or simply ignore what he had just said? First two options would involve the very quick termination of their not even fully established deal. It was too early for that. It was supposed to be an attempt for a good deed and what had happened so far didn't deserve such a title. She also couldn't behave like he hadn't said anything, it wasn't like her. Eventually she chose honesty.

"Yes, I am." She sighed and shook her head with resignation. "Just don't make me regret this so soon."

"That's something I can do," he laughed slightly and looked through the window. "But, you know, obeying isn't just in my nature. I am a pirate, remember? We don't go by the rules," he added with stating-the-obvious tone.

"_We,_" she repeated, tasting the word on her tongue. It sounded strange. Very strange. "It sounds good. But there is no 'we' anymore." She looked at him inquiringly, waiting for his reaction. His expression changed darker, but he faced the window again before she could read anything from his look.

"There was. Once," he said slowly with a serious tone, indicating the end of this conversation.

She didn't know what he exactly meant – a crew he had had once on 'Jolly Roger' and had lost them or his dead one true love, Milah. Maybe he was referring to both of these things. Things that had warmed his heart a long time ago until they had been gone. She felt a sudden wave of connection with the man sitting next to her, but she nipped it in the bud.

They stayed silent for a moment until she had to change the gears, which caught his attention.

"How does it work exactly?" he asked with curiosity.

"What, the car?" She didn't have to request the answer, but for some reason it brought a little smile to her lips. Was it the beginning of the stream of questions she was expecting? It was soon. Maybe he would ask her everything he would like to know in the matter of hours or days and he will need her no more, so she would be able to leave him on his own quicker than she thought. She couldn't decide whether it would be a good or a bad thing.

"That is... quite a strange vessel," he commented, looking around with inquisitiveness and disgust. He tilted his head like a curious animal from a zoo and looked at the button that was opening the glove compartment for few seconds before eventually using it.

"That is something of mine," she snapped, closing it quickly and almost pinching his fingers. "I will explain to you how it works as long as you don't break anything."

He narrowed his eyes and watched her for a moment.

"Deal," he said finally and seated himself more comfortably.

She sighed and reluctantly started the story about cars. She was no expert on them, but she was quite sure her knowledge would be enough for someone who had no clue about vehicles, electronics or laws of physics. She remembered the moment she herself had had to learn a lot about this world. It hadn't been easy, especially considering she had had no guide, either in person or in printed form. No one had written 'The Manual of Earth for People in Their Thirties that Has Never Been There Before' yet. But she had had a lot of time to learn and plenty of opportunities to make mistakes. Twenty eight years of identical days had been a perfect possibility to get to know everything, especially when no one had remembered what she had been doing the day before. That had been the case until the moment she had got Henry, of course.

No, no, no. Bad area of thoughts. She had to focus on the current situation and the story she was telling. That was the best way to pretend she was fine.

There were few seconds of silence again after she finished her story. Hook was apparently digesting what he had just heard.

"So basically they are younger than me," he stated eventually.

"Yes," she said slowly, frowning. "Is that the only thing you noticed?"

"The rest wasn't interesting." He waved his hand nonchalantly. "It's not like I would ever drive it. It would be a profanation of real means of transportation."

"But they come in handy," she decided to defend cars. She liked them. "They are efficient, quick, quite easy to learn, small and portable. They don't need animals, wind or water to move, they are simply independent."

"But they need road and this fuel thing," he retorted. So he was listening to her quite carefully after all.

"Point taken," she admitted, but didn't give up. "Besides that and the environmental damage they are quite flawless."

"The environment is crucial for our well-being, so it is quite a flaw," he claimed with a victorious smile. She felt the sudden conviction that with such an attitude he would never be a fan of this type of moving vehicles. "It is also too unfamiliar. Hostile."

"My car is hostile?" she asked with disbelief. He was fearless enough to plot with Cora and dedicate his life to killing Rumplestiltskin, but he thought cars emanated enmity? She sighed mentally – there was a lot of work for her to do to make him competent enough to survive here on his own.

"Yes, it resembles a cage. And I definitely do not like cages." He was silent for a moment, then corrected his own words with a mischievous smile. "As long as I am locked up in them with no companionship."

She looked at him briefly with disgust.

"I get the picture," she said quickly to stop him from going into explicit details.

They were silent for a moment again when he returned to the abandoned topic.

"They aren't quick enough though. There is a quicker means of transport available in any moment, I am sure you are deeply aware of that fact." He sounded like he missed his ship. She shouldn't be surprised. 'Jolly Roger' seemed to be the closest thing to home he had ever had. But longing something that had no real use here was useless. It had to change. Immediately.

"Sure, because traveling on a magical ship would definitely help you to blend in," she sniffed, pushing back the thought of the mentioned vessel. There was no single positive memory of 'Jolly Roger' in her mind. She didn't want to have it in her thoughts and definitely didn't desire to be forced to look at it once more. Her adventure with the magical ship was over and no one would ever be able to make her set her foot on its board again.

"Why not? Women love pirates," he stated with a naughty expression. She puffed, irritated.

"In twenty first century? I really doubt it. But if you have such low standards, I am sure you will find a counterpart of an eighteenth-century tavern-ish whore somewhere in a city. If that would satisfy you, I don't see the point of continuing our deal." She said it in a serious tone, speaking truthfully. If that would be sufficient for him she would just leave him in a nearest city with the harbor.

"Jealous, are we?" This smirk of his already drove her crazy. It didn't look good considering the future 'lessons of life' ahead of them.

"In your dreams, captain," she snapped. He seemed satisfied with her answer, because his expression didn't change.

"So... where are we going exactly?" he asked a moment later. She sighed. Couldn't he stand the silence for a period of time longer than a minute?

"Would it make any difference if I tell you the name of our destination?" He wouldn't know where or what it was anyways. The only city except Storybrooke that could ring a bell was New York, but they weren't going there. In fact, she didn't really know where they were heading, she just didn't want to admit to it. It won't matter if they would arrive in New Jersey, Chicago or Seattle. They just needed a city. Or a town. Whatever.

She still couldn't make herself care about any destination. Driving was a value itself.

He watched her carefully for a second and she was quite sure he knew their destination could be classified as 'unknown', but he didn't comment on that. She was grateful for that, because otherwise they would inevitably ended up having a discussion about Henry. She wasn't prepared for that and neither she would ever be.

"No," he answered finally. "What for are we going there? If the answer is not classified as a 'mystery' I think I should know that."

"We have to dress you properly," she said without second thoughts. He nodded.

"I guess I shall undress by myself," he replied matter-of-factly. She smirked. He found an interesting way to obey the second rule without really obeying it.

"Yes, you shall."

* * *

In the morning they arrived in Pittsburgh. The city was already awake: traffic ruling the streets and crowded pavements greeted them cheerfully. Everything looked unfamiliar here. The driver and her passenger were looking through the wind screen with curiosity and untamed wonder. Skyscrapers, shopping malls, traffic, it all surprised them. Regina didn't want him to know she in fact was no expert when it came to big cities, so she put on the mask of immovability. During 17 years spent alone in Storybrooke she had made few escapades, but it hadn't been enough to feel the wave, pace and specific atmosphere of metropolis. She loved them, their splendor, opportunities and life, but always had a strong hunch she was just an intruder there without any possibility of finding home in such cities. She didn't belong to them. Back then she had belonged to Storybrooke. Now... Now she didn't belong anywhere.

"That's nothing impressive," he commented. She looked at him and realised he really wasn't impressed. "How can people breathe in such a chaos? There is no water, no space, no... anything."

"It only looks chaotic, in fact it's organized and well planned," she explained, looking around tentatively. She decided she wouldn't go with him to the shopping mall, because it would probably end with a complete humiliation and embarrassment, but to some boutique near a road. She just had to find an appropriate one.

"A little hard to believe," he replied as his eyes followed a red convertible with a bunch of screaming youngsters inside.

Few streets and traffic jams further Regina parked the car near some long and one-storey passage of boutiques. After turning off the engine she looked at her passenger expectantly.

"What?" he asked, immediately turning defensive.

"Your hook," she said and looked at the mentioned thing meaningfully. "You can't parade with it publicly."

He glanced at the extension of his left arm for a moment, then sighed heavily and uninstalled it, stroking it almost tenderly. She was still looking at him meaningfully. After a second he took a hint and removed also the basic that held the hook. He watched the sleeve of his coat flop over the stump of his hand.

"I feel naked without it," he murmured and hid the hook in the locker without her consent. She grimaced, but didn't comment on his behavior. She knew reprimanding him would do nothing. Hook and asking for permission? She was quite sure it will never happen. She might as well get used to it. Good his sword had already disappeared somewhere, because she had a serious hunch it wouldn't be easy to convince him to leave it behind.

"That shouldn't bother you, should it?" she teased.

"Only with another person of an opposite sex naked with me. Unless you are intending to take off these clothes, I won't feel comfortably this time," he precised.

She sent him a faked sweet smile. "Forget it."

"One can always dream." He shrugged with a wink. "Are we going out or waiting for some kind of an invitation?"

She opened the door as an answer and left the car. It was hot outside, but not as stuffy as the other day. Boutiques tempted with richly set up store windows, banners with bright inscriptions saying 'sale' or singboards with names of well-known brands. She looked at them for a while, trying to choose the right one and ultimately selected the middle one. Hook followed her as she entered the shop. There were no customers inside, maybe because of an early hour or quite high prices. For a moment she thought about choosing a cheaper shop – she was the one with a credit card, so she would ante up – but decided not to retreat. She felt like he was her responsibility now, so she had to do everything right. Maybe she just needed to have someone to take care of. Looking after a two-hundred-year-old pirate sounded a little bit ridiculous, but since she had lost the other one many things sounded this way.

_The other one_. It was the sign to stop thinking.

The young woman who had to be a shop assistant approached her and smiled, too sweetly for Regina's taste.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" the woman asked, folding her hands together.

She had to be in her late twenties. Blonde hair curled around her thin oval face, emerald big eyes looked at them with naivety, short skirt exposed slim, long legs. She was pretty. Very pretty. Hook's eyes lightened. Seeing he was already opening his mouth to speak, Regina quickly said, "Yes, we are here to dress..." She cast her companion a quick look. How should have she called him? 'This man' would sound too official considering she was about to pay for his new clothing. 'Hook' didn't seem appropriate to use in a shop with such high standards. She wasn't sure if she correctly remembered his real name – she had only heard it once when she had been doing some research about him when she had needed him. She had no idea how to address him in public. "...him," she finished lamely, feeling internally insecure and ashamed.

The woman shifted her attention from Regina to Hook. He gifted her with a wide grin.

"Hello, darling," he said, looking at her quite impudently. The assistant smiled back at him a little bit weakly, then examined his appearance more carefully. Her expression was changing gradually with every second. Eventually there was no sign of a smile and only a deep frown on her forehead.

"I found him after a costume party." Regina hastened with explanation. She had been good at lying, maybe it would work this time as well. "Completely drunk, not knowing where he left his car and home keys, not to mention some decent clothes. You know, he has to show up at work today. Can you imagine what would happen if I brought him with such an outfit?"

She was trying really hard to say all of that light-heartedly and naturally, ending her speech with a little laugh. Hook looked at her gloomily, but didn't comment. Arguing would bring them both nothing good.

"Oh yes, I can," the woman laughed too, but still didn't look comfortable with the situation. "So you two work together?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes, we... we are colleagues from work." Regina nodded. Hook's expression turned even darker. "He is no freak or a pervert if that's what you are afraid of." It could be the biggest lie she had said this day, but she didn't hesitate. She had to refrain from laughing when she caught a glimpse of his face. If stares could kill, she would definitely be dead by now.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm just..." The woman paused for a moment, then continued with definitely lighter tone. "Our customers usually don't show up dressed up as... pirates, that's all."

"Yeah, he has a thing for pirates," Regina smiled and turned her back on Hook, because she was quite sure that she wouldn't stop laughing the moment she would see his face and their cover will blow up.

The assistant smiled politely with understanding and asked, turning her attention to Hook once more, "What are you looking for, sir, something more casual or typical for the office?"

"Casual," he murmured, his teeth tight clenched, muscles tensed and flinching. He apparently wasn't enjoying the situation.

The woman addressed Regina again, "Why don't you sit there and wait for a moment, ma'am?" She pointed to a couch standing in front of a fitting room. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No, thank you." Regina smiled in acknowledgment and made one step toward the couch. She didn't think leaving Hook on his own for even a second could be a good idea.

"Just tell me your size and I will be back with some clothing for you in a moment, sir," the woman said officially to Hook. He winked.

"Size..." he repeated slowly, thinking about the right answer. His eyes involuntarily found Regina's. "Whatever..."

"I'm afraid my colleague is still a little bit drunk," she cut off, coming to his aid. "Just pick whatever you would find appropriate, okay?" She grabbed Hook's arm and pulled him a little towards the fitting room. He didn't resist, although she could feel his muscles tense even more. "Please."

"Sure thing." If the woman was confused, she was good at covering it. She smiled and got out of their sight, disappearing amidst the coat hangers.

In the meantime Regina managed to place Hook where he was supposed to be and retreated to the couch. He didn't move though, watching her with narrowed eyes and angry stares.

"What?" she asked demandingly. "Is something wrong?"

"Something?" He raised his eyebrows and snuffed. "I don't mind trickery and a bit of costume play, but 'freak', 'pervert' and 'dressed up as a pirate' in one dialogue directed to me is just offensive. 'Drunk pirate' would be so much more welcome."

"You may want to hide your pride and dignity for a little while if you don't intend to hear 'dressed up as a pirate' every single time someone passes you on the street," she commented, seating herself more comfortably.

"My pride and dignity have already went for a walk the moment we entered this caricature of a shop," he snorted, looking around with contempt. "What is this structure?"

"It's a fitting room or, in other words, the place where people try on clothes they are interested in purchasing," she explained, watching his disgust with slight amusement. "We had such things back in our world, remember?" She thought about tailors' workplaces where Cora had been ordering special dresses for her and the curtains back there that had separated the place appropriate for trying clothes on from the rest of the workshop. It hadn't been so different from what they were experiencing now.

"Back in your world of indecently wealthy upper social class whose members' only concern was how far they were in the line of succession and who to hire to kill those who were standing in a way? Of course, your Majesty." He smirked and faked a curtsey. There was sarcasm, mockery and bitterness at once in his voice. For some unknown reason it hurt her. He had no idea how deeply he was wrong. She might have been a princess a long time ago, but she still had been a miller's granddaughter. The world of her childhood hadn't consisted of richness, airiness and freedom. On the contrary, it had been the time of constant humiliation, imprisonment and dealing with obstacles she couldn't have defeated. Royal blood was flowing in her veins, but it hadn't made her life easier. She even thought this regal element in her had destroyed her existence. Back in her own world her pride and inner feeling of supremacy would have boiled after merely a thought of comparing her status to the pirate's one. The remains of that pride were still present, but they weren't outraged by this comparison that took place deep in her mind. She knew nothing about his childhood, but she suspected it hadn't been a bed of roses if he had chosen the life of a pirate. She would never say it aloud, but they couldn't be such different people as he seemed to believe.

On second thoughts she thought he should have known that her childhood couldn't have been easy, having spent with Cora so much time. But well, he had never been Cora's child. He couldn't know what it was like and he will never know.

"Yes, back in this world," she said coldly, letting her pride create a superior smile on her lips.

Their conversation ended this way, because the shop assistant came back with some clothes. Hook leant against the wall of the fitting room and waited for her to approach with an alluring smile. The woman blushed and left the clothes on the hangers, aborting the idea of saying something. She smiled at Regina and quickly walked away. His glance followed her until she could no longer be seen.

Regina cleared her throat impatiently. "I believe you won't need a helping hand." Her eyes landed on his left arm.

He looked at her darkly. "I genuinely appreciate your concern, but I asked you to be my governess, not a nanny." With those words he stepped back and abruptly pulled the curtains.

She inhaled a deep breath. He had to be really discomposed if he didn't even say anything with the erotic subtext. She seemed to be quite talented in getting him out of control. It could be a useful thing in the Enchanted Forest with a relation queen-servant that she thought had been between them, but not now, when she was no longer his queen and he was no longer her subject - if he had ever even been one, which in fact was quite doubtful.

She sighed and leant her head on the headrest. Twice in one day the atmosphere got so thick it could be cut with a knife. In the Enchanted Forest such a situation would have never bothered her, but here and in the current condition of her mind she needed to choose between two possible options and follow the chosen path. She had to decide whether she wanted them to be on the edge of the knife all the time and separate ways as soon as possible or to spend this time in amicable contacts, so they wouldn't desire to jump to each other's throats once a day or an hour.

In the stillness of the shop she finally had time to think. With him in the car she hadn't had a single opportunity to process anything, even her own problems. He was that kind of a passenger that required full attention. She had had to have her eyes all over her head so that he wouldn't touch anything he wasn't supposed to and constantly be involved in a conversation, because he just couldn't stay quiet. She smiled lightly. It was quite amusing actually. Moreover, as long as her whole brain had been focused on the chat and his untamed curiosity she could have pretended everything was fine. As long as they had been engaged in a conversation, that is. A brief moment of silence and the pain had been coming back instantaneously.

An easy conclusion could be drawn from this. She needed a good company. It was essential to stop the pain even for few seconds.

Companionship. She had really thought she hadn't needed one. She had learned how to be independent, how to live on her own. She had got used to it dreadfully quickly. There was a thing about loneliness - people could think they understood it well until it struck them back. There was a way to get accustomed to being alone, but it was impossible to stop those moments when isolation hurt like hell. And they always came, no matter how high walls were built to stop them. Every tame could be broken. Not every flood could be stopped.

The companionship was good for loneliness and for stopping the pain. But it had to be a friendly one, because hostility didn't work. She decided.

"I'm sorry," she said loudly enough for him to hear. It had never been easy for her to apologize or to stand corrected. 'Sorry' wasn't a word she had used to exploit. "I should have guessed your hand can be a touchy subject."

"I am not a woman, my dear, I don't have touchy subjects," he answered from behind the curtain. She started to wonder if she had ever really got under his skin or maybe it had simply been different flings of his mood.

"Good," she commented certainly, though she was feeling rather uncertainly.

A moment later he pulled the curtains away and stood with his arms crossed on his chest.

"Do I look like a twenty-first-century American man now?" he asked and raised his eyebrows.

She stood up and scrutinized his appearance thoroughly. He was wearing a grey short sleeve shirt, a dark vest and ragged jeans accompanied by black trainers that she had no idea where had come from. In this outfit his lack of hand was more visible than ever. Her gaze followed down his left arm. A shadow flashed through his face. It was gone quicker than it appeared, but she managed to understand it – he didn't feel quite comfortable with his disability being so exposed for people's eyes even though he would never admit it. She quickly looked away and stepped back a little.

"Satisfied?" She almost forgot he was waiting for an answer. She crossed her arms on her chest and looked at him again, this time with an eye of a professional. He looked like a twenty-first-century American man now. And he looked good. In fact, he looked more than good. She had always considered him handsome, but something changed now. Without the blackness of his usual clothing his dark hair contrasted with his skin more than ever. His blue eyes seemed to shine in comparison to the azure of the new jeans. She had never seen him lacking long sleeves before. He was more muscled than she could have thought. Even in normal, casual clothes his appearance was alluring in its own unique way and his witty, mischievous nature apparently couldn't be hidden by such a bagatelle as a costume.

She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Yes," she answered with a proud smile. It was always better to have a good-looking companion than an unappealing one. "Try the other ones on."

She returned to the couch followed by his watchful gaze and wicked smile. She didn't manage to comment on that before he pulled the curtains again.

The next hour passed in a similar way and every minute made her more amused. The situation was so surreal it was almost ridiculous – two villains of the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke on the clothing hunt in Pensylvania. If anyone had suggested something like that to her even a year ago she would have laughed in their faces. And now here they were: just like normal colleagues from work they pretended to be, buying garments. He had been right, she really didn't want to miss such hilarious situations like this one.

Only after Hook's experience as a model was done did she realise she felt different for the entire last hour. In the car her pain had been coming back in every moment of silence and even when it hadn't been present, she had only pretended to be fine without believing it could ever be possible again. This time... this time the pain didn't come back in moments of silence. This time she wasn't pretending. For a little while there were no traces of misery, pain or grief in her mind. Although she felt dreadfully guilty about it, it seemed to lift a heavy burden from her shoulders, a burden that had pinned her down so deeply she had lost the knowledge there was any sky above. During the last hour, for the first time in over a month she was able to breathe again. For the first time she believed she could be fine once more. Free from pain. This release wouldn't happen in a day, a month or even a year of course. It would be a very long process, lasting years. But there was hope, a little light in the tunnel she hadn't seen before.

Funny how such a trivial thing like shopping could change perspectives. She smiled to herself as her fingers mechanically reached the bracelet on her right wrist. There was a little scroll of burnt paper inside. It was one of two parts that remained from Henry's fairy tale book. Emma had the other part. Miss Swan had been on her own road to regain happiness. She had to go in Emma's footsteps this one single time.

She heard curtains being pulled away, which broke her thoughtfulness.

"Ready?" she asked, raising royally from the couch. The woman from the service had visited them few times during the last hour, asking whether she had picked appropriate clothing and size and taking what Regina had chosen - without requesting his approval - to the cash, so now he was able to put on what had already been billed before leaving the shop. When he left the fitting room, he had the first outfit on.

"As you can see, my queen." This sarcasm was again in his voice. She looked at him with a grimace. Yes, she might have been ordering him few things during the last hours, but if he hadn't wanted to obey, he wouldn't have done it. She knew the truth was he felt lost in this world, even though he would have never admitted it. That was why he had obeyed, not because he still regarded her as a monarch. She definitely didn't mind – she even cherished it, in fact - being called 'the queen' as long as it was being said with respect. She didn't want to hear such an important title with this dismissive manner of his.

She didn't comment on it now though, she thought it would be more proper to have an important conversation about her status in more friendly environment. Without second thoughts she turned on her heels and headed towards the counter.

"Would that be all?" The shop assistant asked with such a sweet smile that Regina felt like vomiting. Too much cuteness for one day. And this day had just started.

"Yes, it would be all," she replied and took her credit card out.

"I like when a woman pays for herself." She heard his voice right in her ear. "A woman paying for me? It's like a dream coming true."

She smirked.

"Just don't fool yourself into thinking this dream will last long," she answered, casting him a quick supreme glance.

The shop assistant counted everything up and took the credit card from Regina. A moment later a frown showed up on the woman's forehead.

"Is something wrong?" Regina asked with a little bit concerned tone.

"I just have to try again." The cashier smiled nonchalantly not explaining what was wrong and did what she had just said. The result had to be the same, because the frown deepened. "I'm sorry, but I can't gain an access to the resources on your card, ma'am."

She handed Regina the card. It was the Queen who frowned this time.

"That's impossible, I was using it three days ago without any problem," she said with disbelief. "Can I try again?"

"Yes, of course." The woman shoved a terminal towards her. Regina put the card inside and waited for an answer from the bank.

_Access denied_, it said after a while. She tried again, but to no avail. She had no idea what was going on. That was the first time ever she had such a problem.

"I... I just..." She rushed through her wallet. There was only a twenty-dollar bill inside. With such a huge amount of money she would be able to buy a key chain here. Very small one. Or maybe not.

"And that would be so much for that dream. Don't bother, sweetheart." She heard him murmur before handing the cashier the roll of money. Regina looked at him with surprise and bewilderment.

"You lost your home keys and the car, but you have so much money on you, sir?" The woman asked with curiosity. Regina couldn't really focus on her words, trying to retrieve some of the lost dignity and pride. She had to hold herself together.

"I had it in my... costume," he explained, sending the assistant a charming and nonchalant smile. He had skills to be quite an actor, Regina had to admit. His abilities to adapt were better than she had expected. "I have no recollection of how they got there, I guess I had to bring them to the party." Or maybe not.

His bright smile didn't erase the woman's confused expression. Nevertheless, she took the money. Regina was quite sure they would reach the top place on the shop assistant's 'The strangest customers' list.

The merciful gaze from the woman added insult to injury. She couldn't stand it any longer.

"I will..." She pointed to the door. He nodded slowly and watched her as she turned around and started walking towards the door.

She wasn't in a stable relationship with her emotions. In fact, despite everything she had thought this day, she was a mess without much hope for getting better. Overwhelmed by events of few last months, her subconsciousness became totally wrecked and out of control. Roller coaster of different feelings that she weren't quite able to comprehend could flood her in every single second. Exactly such a situation was happening right now. And triggered by something so irrelevant as an out of order credit card.

She left the shop in haste. Fresh air was definitely something she needed. She felt humiliated. What had just happened wasn't irrelevant for her pride. Money was the real value in this world. It was the power. Lack of money meant lack of power. And without power or its counterpart she felt awfully small, like she didn't have any significance here. It was almost an unbearable feeling, comparing only to another Snow White's victory back in the Enchanted Forest.

"Good you didn't have enough creativity to invent the different currency."

She winked quickly and turned around. She didn't want him to see her weak and defeated.

"I didn't make that curse and my creativity is fine," she snapped, narrowing her eyes. Suddenly the meaning of his words struck her. "Where did you get this money from?"

"Let's say I had to undertake some necessary precautions just before leaving Storybrooke," he answered with a sparkle in his eyes. She sniffed. "What happened back there?"

She looked at him angrily, wanting to say it was none of his business. But as she watched him her exasperation was decreasing and after a while there was only a hurt pride, which answered him vainly, "No one should dare think I don't have money. I am the Queen. I have plenty of money."

"I guess I have to add 'money' to the list of your touchy subjects," he commented smugly.

"Listen," she abruptly approached him so they were standing next to each other in the distance of merely few inches. "Money is the ultimate power here. It is the strength that defines people's place in this world. It is the currency you pay with for being someone important. Without it you are no one. Nothing."

"I think I comprehend it quite well," he replied, looking at her askance.

"I don't think you do," she snapped and moved away. The world seemed a hostile place again.

He didn't reply. He had to see she wasn't in mood for a conversation.

She needed time to think; to forget about this awful déjà vu, the reminder of what it had been like in their world - having no power to fight the forces of good. She had to do something with it. Suddenly a solution popped into her head. Of course, why hadn't she thought about it earlier?

"I recognize that look," he said, breaking the temporarily silence.

"What look?" she asked innocently.

"That look. The evil one meaning you are up to something not quite decent." The smile on his lips widened. "What is it this time? You know I'm in."

She looked at him, evil and satisfied smirk forming on her lips.

"We are going to the bank."


	3. Identity Crisis

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews, all of you lovely people! Chapter three is up, not as soon as I expected, but I honestly didn't have enough power to edit and check it. I hope it makes some sense and isn't too much "in the clouds" (I have no idea how the organisation I mentioned here works). Enjoy and please, review!**

* * *

„I truly hoped my hearing failed me when you said we were going to the bank."

It had taken her some time to find the right bank and to reach it, which had caused some problems as well, but eventually they had got to it. The building was huge: it was a high skyscraper painted white. The main hall was spacious with many booths and couches that served as waiting rooms.

„And that your evil plan at least consisted of some robbery."

She looked around. There were many people inside, walking in every possible direction, crossing adjacent corridors, talking through phones, paying or repaying. Employees responsible for customer service seemed to be very busy supplying the clients with their assistance.

"Or some magic chaos you would invoke here."

She turned around and looked at him briefly.

"You can use magic outside of Storybrooke, can't you?" He apparently understood her negative expression even though she tried to hide it.

"I don't know," she said casually like it was a totally normal thing they were talking about and shrugged. "I haven't tried yet."

"Will you ever try?" His inquisitiveness was starting to irritate her.

"I will." She answered, shifting her attention away from him. "When the more appropriate time comes."

"Which means never, as I imagine," he retorted. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves enough to stop herself from making a scene in the middle of the bank. She had an aim and had to stick to it.

"Would you be so kind and keep your mouth shut for a moment?" She faked a smile and pointed at one of the couches. "Now it's your turn to sit down and wait."

His gaze followed her finger. He tilted his head when he saw a young, pretty girl sitting on the middle sofa and texting on her phone.

"No problem, dear," he said without any argument and walked away not even looking at Regina. She sighed and stood in the least crowded line to a booth.

His question triggered something in her, something she didn't allow to reach the surface for time long enough for it to cover in dust and start bugging her from the inside. She lied to him the same way she had been lying to herself. This lie now broke her mental barricade she had managed to build. She didn't want to try to cast some spell and find out if her powers were still present. First reason was very simple: she was afraid all of her might was gone. If it was the case, she would remain completely powerless for the rest of her life. Just a normal United States citizen, ordinary and like anyone else. She didn't like that idea. She hated being ordinary. The second reason was more complex, deeper and of a bigger significance. Denying the thing she loved, something that gave her power, was her own kind of a punishment. Magic might have been responsible for bringing Henry into her life – if it hadn't been for it, she wouldn't have cast the curse and would have been forever alone in the Enchanted Forest. But she was also sure magic had been one of the reasons that stood behind her son's death. If it hadn't been for magic, if Henry hadn't been magical, none of those would have ever happened and they would have been a happy family. Well, maybe not very happy and still dysfunctional, but a family. Magic had ruined it all. Magic had ruined her. But she still longed for it, for the feelings it gave her and couldn't get herself to loathe it. One can love and hate something in the same moment. She needed it so much that it almost hurt and the unawareness was killing her. But she wasn't going to try. She wasn't going to do magic ever again. It was her punishment. It was one of many prices she was paying for the loss of the only person that had cared for her.

"Next, please." She heard suddenly and realized it was her turn. She quickly left her thoughts aside and sat on the chair in front of the booth.

"Good morning," she greeted the man who was sitting at the other side of the glass. He nodded with boredom not suspending his quick writing on the computer keyboard.

"How can I help you?" he finally asked when she was silent for a few seconds.

"My card doesn't want to cooperate," she said light-heartedly, but the man didn't smile, only cast her a weary glance.

"Your name and the number of account, please," he requested and stopped typing with his fingers hanging few inches above the keyboard.

"Regina Mills," she said and dictated the number of her account from the piece of paper she was carrying in her wallet.

The man typed the information she gave him and waited for the response from the system. "Are you sure this is the right data, ma'am?" He asked after a while.

"Yes, I am sure." She nodded vividly, feeling a pinch in her heart. What the hell was going on?

"I'm sorry, but such an account doesn't exist in our bank and I don't have any information of the name you gave me in our database." His voice was wiped out of any kindness or interest; in his vague eyes she saw 'next, please'. She wasn't going to give up so quickly though.

"It has to be a mistake," she insisted, taking out her credit card and handing it to him. He accepted it reluctantly and scrutinized carefully. "I've had this account for..." She almost said '29 years'. It was a close call. "...many years and never had any problem with it."

His eyes followed the numbers embedded on the card and the moment later his fingers typed something quickly.

"Such an account doesn't exist nor has ever existed," he repeated slowly, handing the card back to her. "No Regina Mills possess an account in our bank or has ever possessed it."

"That's impossible," she persisted, not agreeing with what she was hearing. "Your system must be broken."

"My system is perfectly fine." The man started losing the patience.

"It obviously can't be if it's saying such a nonsense," she denied intently. He looked at her with a typical clerkly expression. "I request to speak with a manager."

"Miss Mills..." he paused for a moment, then proceeded with a traces of threat in his voice, "...if that's even your real name, I would advise you to leave now, before I lose my patience, call the police and accuse you of a fraud."

She was speechless for a moment. No one was allowed to speak to her in such a manner and especially not some clerk who naively believed he possessed any power over her. "You..." she started, but didn't finish. She wanted to say 'arrogant, impudent bastard, liar and scoundrel'. As the Evil Queen she would have hauled him over the coals without hesitation, punished him and made him suffer for what he had just said in ways he couldn't possibly imagine. Here and now she wasn't exactly thrilled about the possibility of being charged with a verbal assault. She could easily get arrested and there was no one who would bring her out of jail. "You have no idea who you are dealing with," she finished instead, her eyes narrowed, her voice filled with venom and hatred.

The man smirked. "Please, tell me," he said mockingly. "Should I call security or maybe you will find the way out on your own, ma'am?"

She cast him the most hostile look she could manage to create and stood up so abruptly that the chair she had been sitting on fell onto the floor. People in her line started whispering and looking at her with surprised expressions, but she didn't care, passing them quickly and not looking back. She hadn't felt so humiliated in her entire life. If she had her powers, the man would have already been dead. God, this whole place would have been turned into ashes. But it wasn't the life she was living now. It wasn't the life of the Evil Queen who lost her dignity; it was the life of Regina Mills who lost her money and could do nothing about it. In fact, she feared the case was more serious than that, but she had to check it out first.

She burst through the door and only behind it did she remember her companion. She didn't intend going back to collect him. She had made quite a scene back there, Hook had to notice it. If he doesn't follow her in some time, she would come back for him. And make him regret it severely. For now she decided to take advantage of being alone.

The man had said there had never been such an account. He said no Regina Mills had ever been a client of this bank. It seemed to be quite impossible and ridiculous: she had been using this card and taking money from it during 29 years spent in Storybrooke, inside the town and in other places she had visited. She had even stopped by a bank some time ago to inspect it. What was happening now could only mean one thing: the destruction of Storybrooke was followed by the deletion of everything that had connected its inhabitants with the outer world. It was like neither Storybrooke nor its citizens had ever existed. Three days ago her card had been active; there had been Regina Mills in the records of that bank. Now, with Storybrooke gone, all her history here came to past. Her account didn't exist, because in fact it had never been established, but only created by the curse. Her money didn't exist, because in fact she had never had it. Her identity didn't exist, because in fact... Regina Mills had never existed. She was only the product of the curse. The Evil Queen had existed. Now, with her gone...

"You are getting quite sentimental, my dear." Did he constantly have to pop up behind her when she was not prepared? She breathed heavily and when she turned to him her expression was cold and cool-headed.

"I'm not sentimental, I am simply jumping to conclusions." She stressed the word 'jumping' in a reference to the conversation they had had the day before.

"Care to share?" He was standing few steps from her, leaning against the nearest tree with crossed arms and an asking stare.

She shrugged and put on the mask of indifference. "My credit card doesn't work, because the account it was assigned to doesn't exist. No one going by the name of Regina Mills has ever been a client of this bank."

She looked at him meaningfully, expecting him to jump to the same conclusions as she.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," he said with a little apologetic smile. "Proceed, please."

She sighed, but did as he wished. "The history of my usage of this bank services has been erased. Everything has been erased because of the destruction of Storybrooke. All of us could have been the citizens of United States, but with our city gone, our fake identities are gone as well. There is not a single paper that would confirm the existence of Regina Mills, David Nolan or Mary Margaret Blanchard. We simply don't exist. And we never had."

He nodded his head in a confirmation that he understood.

"And it is a bad thing?" he asked, raising his hand and slowly stroking his mustache.

"Yes, it is a bad thing," she confirmed vividly, her eyes sparkling with invigoration and slight anger that didn't want to go away. Her emotions were gaining control over her body once more.

He waited for her to continue and when it didn't happen, he waved his hand as a sign of encouragement. "It's a bad thing because...?" he asked and looked at her intently, expecting her to finish the sentence.

_Because it means I have never had a life here_, she thought with helplessness, but didn't say it out loud. Sometimes her own thoughts seemed reasonable and logical; sometimes they sounded ridiculously and irrationally, even though they usually weren't like this. She currently felt insecure about her feelings. She definitely didn't want to share them with him, not when they could expose her vulnerability and weaknesses.

"We are free and unknown," he proceeded, seeing she wasn't very willing to answer any time soon. He straightened and walked few steps towards her, looking her in the eyes. "What better could have happened?"

Gloomy look was all he got as an answer.

"I understand you may not be all sunshine and rainbows, but you have to look at the bright sides. You achieved what you desired: a lack of life." The cheerful tone of his words got on her nerves. Like he had any idea what she desired. Her cravings were far beyond her reach and nothing could change that fact.

"Oh, shut up," she snapped and pushed him away abruptly. He took one step backward, but still kept his eyes focused on hers. "I didn't want a future life, not the past one. There is a difference."

"What do you need a past for if you don't wish to have any future?"

That was a very good question, in fact. Question she didn't have an answer to.

"I don't know," she admitted, shrugging. Maybe she needed it because without it she felt lost? She desperately wanted to feel she was someone. Being deprived of her own identity would have meant she truly lost everything she could. "Maybe I just wanted to feel I've ever existed here."

"What for if it has all been just a lie?"

She felt struck but such an accusation. Her life hadn't been a lie. Lives of everyone else in Storybrooke had been a lie, but not hers. She had been aware of everything, she had known who she had been. It hadn't been a lie. He had no right to offend her like this.

"It hasn't been a lie, it..." What had it been exactly? Not a real life, because one does not really live when time doesn't pass and every day can look exactly the same as the previous one. Being an usurpatory mayor of an almost imaginary town might not sound very legitimate, but that had been her reality for such a long time she had almost started believing it was true. But his words made her realize it was as far from the truth as it could only be. "It was an illusion. There is a difference." She ended rebelliously, swallowing the sudden bump in her throat. It wasn't a nice feeling to finally find the right word to describe almost thirty years of her life and discover that this term was far from pleasant. Her gaze landed on the far buildings, away from the situation and from him.

"There isn't much difference between an illusion and a lie," he said a little bit quieter, watching her carefully. "The contrast is built upon the faith. It was your own choice to believe in this lie and make it an illusion. The good question is why."

"I don't know, okay?" she snapped and lifted her head, looking at him angrily. "Are you done with this interrogation?"

He stepped backward and lifted his hand in a fake defensive gesture. "I was just politely asking."

"So stop politely asking." She cast him a furious look before turning to her car. "As I said, it's just _jumping_ to conclusions. I won't know anything for sure until I check it out. That can be one hell of a misunderstanding as well."

Silence that fell irritated her even more than his constant questions.

"Now what, you won't even ask how I am going to check it out?" she asked exasperatedly and faced him.

"You requested to stop politely asking," he said innocently, smirking. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

"Get in before I lose my patience and leave you here," she said under her breath, wiping her eyes wearily. This day was really peculiar. And they didn't even reach the half of it yet.

* * *

It took her some time to realize where she wanted to go. Heading to the City Council might not be the best idea. If her fears appeared to be true, clerks would immediately called the police and let them know about a fake identity she possessed. Which again would have its end in jail. Additionally, she didn't like the idea of explaining to some moronic cops why her companion didn't have any documents, neither real nor fake ones. Sure, they could easily go with a story of amnesia, head to a hospital, pretend a little and maybe play some doctors into convincing the clerks and policemen they needed new ID's. That could go well, but she was quite sure it wouldn't. Besides, it was far beneath her dignity. It would be too shameful thing for the Queen to do. Possessing fake documents seemed like a less disgraceful action. Moreover, she wasn't fond of hospitals. They weren't much better than prisons. They made people weak. They made them break. No, hospitals were definitely out of the question.

"There are two ways to acquire money in this world, as well as in any other: legal and illegal," she said seriously breaking the silence, but not letting her eyes off of the road.

She noticed he wanted to say something, but didn't let him get a word in edgeways.

"Don't." She waved her hand and proceeded, still not looking at him. "I have an idea of a challenge. I will try to get some money in a legal way and you, obviously, in an illegal one."

He processed her words for a second. "How are you planning to obtain them?" he asked eventually.

"I will try to find a job," she explained. "That way I will be able to find out if my assumptions are true while minimalizing the risk of ending up in prison."

"Huh," he commented, making her look at him briefly. His expression didn't tell her anything. "Challenges are usually followed by a price for a winning side."

"What makes you so sure you will be the winning side?" His self-confidence was sometimes really tiring. What made him have such a high self-esteem? Or maybe was it just a pose? She in fact had no idea. She started wondering if she knew him as well as she had thought.

"I didn't say I would be the winning side," he precised. "I just asked whether you envisaged a reward or not."

"Well, I didn't," she answered. "It's just a way to keep you occupied while I am managing important things. You don't have to accept the challenge if you don't want to."

"Who said I don't?"

She smirked a little. She was sure he would take the bait.

"You don't have to accept it if you chicken out either," she chuckled; she couldn't resist saying that.

He gave her a look of a wounded animal.

"Such an assumption hurts me deeply," he said in a serious tone, although with traces of a little laugh in it. "I'm not a coward, my dear, and you should know it by now. I will accept any challenge you would give me."

"I wouldn't be so quick with this 'any'." A wicked smile appeared on her lips. It would be much safer for him not to agree on something without knowing what he exactly agreed on.

"I would be. I thought you know me well enough to realize I am capable of doing pretty much everything." He stretched his legs out and leaned his head on the headrest. "If you don't know me well enough..." He tilted his head and looked at the road before continuing casually, "We will have a plenty of time to get to that point and explore our hidden mysteries, then."

She turned her head and watched him for a moment with some new thoughts building up in her. He said they had plenty of time. How long did he intend to stay with her? Obviously long enough for them to get to know each other much better. They both were complex and screwed up, so such a process would require a long period of time. Very extended period of time. It would take them long enough to feel comfortable with each other, not to mention starting to uncover the layers of their complicated personalities. It wasn't just about showing him the mysteries of this world this time. His words took their little deal onto much more personal level. She didn't feel comfortable with it. She didn't want to allow anyone to peer inside her privacy, let alone him, the person who she didn't even regard as any sort of friend, but more as a frenemy. Frenemies were far from friends. Frenemies didn't get to know each other better, they could only tolerate each other. She believed he felt the same way. But if he did, why he had said those words? Because he was curious? Because he felt it would be quite a challenge to peek behind the walls she had created? Or maybe... maybe because he simply wanted to change their status from 'frenemies' to 'some sort of friends'? She had no idea. Maybe she was just overanalyzing everything and looking for the hidden meaning in something that didn't even have it, as she had always used to do.

She was also a little bit struck by the thought he could want to stay with her long enough to discover the features of her characters that he had no idea about. If he didn't mind abiding with her, the better question was: how long did she intend to keep him around? She was in charge here, she could terminate their deal in a heart-beat. For now, she didn't know the answer to this question. She had to wait and see what happens next.

She realized she in fact had no idea what he was feeling or thinking about. Usually it didn't take her much time to look into somebody's mind and tell what was inside of it. She also hadn't cared what other people were feeling throughout most of her life. With him the case was slightly different. He was a challenge, a riddle too difficult to solve as for now. She knew he had been broken-hearted, she was aware of the basic history that stood behind his revenge and of the failed vendetta as well, but nothing more. Had he ever got over it? Was he still broken-hearted? What was he really doing for the two hundred years? Did Neverland change something in him as in anyone else who had participated in that unforgettable journey? Maybe he was much simpler and less complex than she considered him to be. Maybe he was shallow and uncomplicated just as he sometimes pretended to be, and she unnecessarily looked at him through the aspects of her own personality.

From all of these questions she thought she knew the answer for one of them, or at least a partial solution. Quick flashback wanted to reach the surface of her thoughts, but she didn't let it uncover itself, deciding to think about it afterward, in a more appropriate time.

A moment later they arrived at the employment agency. Regina turned off the engine and looked at her companion.

"I will be waiting for you here until..." she quickly checked the time, "...five o'clock. You'd better be back at that time."

"I shall remember it, then." He smirked and left the car without more words.

She stayed in the vehicle for few moments, wondering what she should say or do once she would be inside the building. She wasn't quite sure her idea was a good one, but she couldn't think about anything better. In this place they would check her ID, her education, her documents, or at least that was what she had heard. It would ultimately tell her the truth she was in fact afraid of hearing.

_It's do or die_, she thought, took a deep breath and left the car.

The small building was very different from the bank's one with its dirty beige walls, old-fashioned window frames and faded-out curtains. The number of people inside was quite similar though. Lines to the particular doors were long enough to wind through the whole corridors, reaching the stairs. It was stuffy and hot inside, almost difficult to breathe. Regina looked around, trying to figure out where to go to achieve what she wanted. Finally she asked one man standing near the door who looked like a janitor, where she could sign in. He waved his hand towards the big board that said where specific offices were located. She thanked him and skipped through it quickly. Her object of interest was situated on the second floor.

There was only one person waiting next to the yellow door that were missing paint in more than a few places. She sat down next to the awaiting man and stared at the wall. She wasn't sure if she exactly knew what she was doing. Her latest actions seemed strangely chaotic, a lot not like her. But what had she done during the last month that had been like her? Not many things. Life had changed and was still changing. That was an undeniable fact she needed to get used to.

It was her turn surprisingly quickly. She went into the room and faced a young woman sitting at the small desk that was completely covered with papers and documents.

"Good morning." Regina smiled, trying to make the first impression positive. The woman returned the gesture and pointed at the chair for her to sit down.

"I would ask what brings you here, but I am afraid I already know," the woman said with a small laugh. She was young, clearly old enough to be good at her job, but not to be really bored with it.

"Yes, I guess it's true." Regina felt strangely tense. She folded her hands on her knees and sat more straight on the chair. "I took every document I could find," she added, removing the thick file from her bag. It was the only thing she had taken with her before leaving Storybrooke. She couldn't even answer why she had done it. It had been an impulse that she had simply followed.

"That's great, let's see them." The woman's enthusiasm wasn't a fake one when she took the file Regina handed her. "I would also need some ID."

"Of course." That was maybe the most important part of this whole farce. Regina handed the driver's license and felt her left hand clenching into a fist. She was nervous. Why was she nervous?

The woman typed something quickly in the computer and looked at the ID and into the file. There were all documents the curse had created for her false identity here: school leaving certificate, diploma from Harvard, attended additional classes, her history as the Mayor. Everything that Regina Mills had done or had supposedly done. And that was the moment of truth, the ultimate distinguish between the lie and the illusion.

The worker started typing digits and information while Regina could only observe her interlocutor's fingers moving quickly on the computer keyboard. She wasn't sure how far the woman was able to dig into her data, but she believed there was a possibility to confirm or deny the authenticity of her documents. She had specifically chosen this agency, because she had found out they verified everything the most thoroughly.

After a while she could tell the answer from the woman's face, even without the words. The lie, not the illusion. Just the lie.

"I can't find any data on the driver's license with such an identification number." The worker pointed at the ID. "There is nothing on the diploma with this number either." Her finger hung above the other document. Her expression suddenly changed. "I have to ask, but are these real documents?"

Regina looked at her externally unmoved. She faked a laugh. "I am so sorry, my nephew had to change them with the real ones. He is three and just adores printing different things on the computer and then giving them to us pretending they are the authentic documents. I am sure you know how these children are." She waved her hand with a smile. "You constantly have to keep an eye on them!"

The woman seemed not convinced. Her big, worried eyes followed Regina's every move.

"I will be back within an hour or two with the right documents. I'm so sorry I wasted your time." Regina stood up and looked at the worker apologetically.

"That's... that's fine," the woman answered uncertainly. Regina was quite sure that if the worker was older and more experienced, the police would have already been notified.

She gathered the papers, cast the woman the last remorseful look and left the room. Then she quickly ran down the stairs and went outside.

'Lie' was the only word she heard in her head while going down the street and finally resting on the stairs leading to some terraced house.

For a moment she was just sitting there, with the empty head and blank heart. Then the fears suddenly started to come, not politely one by one, but all of them at once. Everything was too overwhelming. The last day she thought there was no way she could be more broken than she had been. But she felt much more broken now.

_The contrast is built upon the faith, _she suddenly heard in her mind. Maybe he was right, maybe it really was built upon the faith. Why did she have this faith that didn't even have any reasonable basics? What was that faith exactly? A belief that pretending to be someone would eventually convert into being that someone she pretended to be? That was just... silly. And she didn't do silly things.

But, even though she was convinced she didn't do silly things, she had believed that her life here had been real in a way. And it turned out to be one big lie.

What was exactly this life she didn't possess? What even the word 'life' meant? What was the prove of a life? Having a history of the past deeds? Phone records? Cash billings? Some notice in the world's bureaucracy that would indicate she had ever been alive? Because if that was what the word 'life' meant... She had never been alive here. She had never had a life.

She was no one. The Evil Queen didn't exist anymore, because outside the Enchanted Forest the nickname lost its meaning. Regina Mills had apparently never been alive. So who was she? Who was that broken piece of human being that had gone by the name of Storybrooke Mayor? She denied the return to her homeland and now she wasn't a citizen of United States either. And she will never be. She couldn't legally asked for a new ID. No one would ever believe a story of a woman in her thirties who had a fake driver's license, fake credit card, claimed to have an account in a back where they had never even heard of her. The woman deprived of any history here. She wouldn't even be able to answer the simplest questions people asked in such situations: where were you born? What did you do for a living? Where were you living? What were you doing your whole life?

No, she definitely couldn't legally obtain the new ID card, it was simply impossible. He had been right again: if she belonged to any world at all, it was a criminal world. Because that was simply who she had been and will always be – a criminal. Apparently, any world didn't want to see her change for better.

_I'm sorry, Henry, _she thought and felt the tears welling in her eyes. _I'm so sorry I let you down again. But... how can I change when no one lets me? _

She felt like this lost young woman who hadn't had control over her own life and had tried to struggle only to lose every possible battle. The woman she had used to be before becoming the Evil Queen. For the biggest part of her life she had shared with this woman only her first name and a history. Now... now she shared some feelings as well. She had hoped so many times that she would be able to come back to being this Regina once more. But she hoped what would come back would be goodness, hope and a little bit of innocence at least. Not those feelings she had always detested while being the Queen. Not these constant humiliations, constant reminders she didn't have a place in now both worlds nor any shoulder to lean on, no one to ask for advice now, without Henry. It seemed like both universes shared the common goal of denying her everything.

During many years of being the Queen and the Mayor of Storybrooke she had learned how to pretend to be strong. But she could handle it no more. She was too shattered now, too wounded to hold her guards up. She didn't have enough power anymore. All of her previous day's intentions to never show her weaknesses on plain sight for him to see died out. She didn't possess enough strength to hide her fragility. And, what terrified her even more, she didn't even care about it.

She didn't lift her head when she heard someone sitting next to her. Her blank stare lingered upon the park ahead of her, although she didn't even see it.

"I assume it wasn't a misunderstanding after all."

She smirked bitterly. How was she supposed to teach him how to exist in twenty first century when she didn't even know how to live anymore?

"No, it wasn't," she answered, bitterness clear in her voice. "It was a reality."

"I won't claim I understand what you are so perturbed about," he started, sincerity in his voice. "But I say, if the world denies you what should be yours, take it without asking for its permission."

She smiled slightly and looked at him. Some strange thread of connection suddenly flourished in her heart. She did need one moment of honesty, of letting some of her thoughts be spoken aloud, or she would just stay on those stairs forever. After that, she would close again and rebuild her shattered walls. She realized she hadn't had an adult interlocutor with whom she would be frank since her father. It had been a long time since she had any honest conversation. She needed someone to play the role of her father, just this one time, just for a moment. And since there was no one else around, the man sitting next to her had to be enough.

"That's the rule I followed for many, many years," she said, little smile lingering on her lips. "I believed the world had to ask for my permission to breathe, not the other way around." She had never considered any of those times good, so why was she smiling? "But you already know that, we met during exactly this period of my life."

"Indeed." He smiled too and looked at the park. The roles changed for a moment – she was observing him, while he stared at the green area ahead of them. She thought that it was kinda funny to reckon they had met each other almost thirty years ago. "What have changed?"

Her smile disappeared slowly and her gaze shifted to the park. She was silent for a moment, repeatedly squeezing her hands and folding them on her knees.

"Henry," she said eventually. "He changed my life."

"He didn't change your life." She looked at him with surprise, but before she could deny he added, "He altered you." He put a stress on the last word.

The little smile returned to her lips. Henry had in fact changed both, her life and her. Or maybe only her and the life had simply followed.

"Yes, I suppose that's true."

The silence fell between them, but it wasn't awkward. She thought about this whole crazy day, following their journey through the city, their conversations, untamed changes in her feelings and emotions. She knew she deeply needed some modification in her perspectives if she ever wanted to stand up from where she was sitting, literally and metaphorically. Their discussion in front of the bank replayed in her head.

"It isn't easy to admit, believe me, but I think you might be right." She was the one who broke the silence. Even though her gaze was fastened on her own fingers, she saw from the corner of her eye that he moved slightly to have a better view of her and smirked.

"Enlighten me, if you may," he said, leaning against the railing. "What might I be right about?"

"That it's a good thing we are free and unknown." She inhaled a breath and looked him straight in the eyes. "Maybe the world denied me something that should be mine, but by doing that it enabled me to choose who I really wish to be. If I am no one at this moment, I am able to decide who I want to be in the next." She paused for a moment, choosing the right words. She was feeling better now, good enough to stand up and rebuild her tames, cut off this sincerity of the moment. But her own tongue proceeded without the knowledge of her mind. "The problem is, I don't know who I want to be."

Her own words surprised her. Did she really say that out loud?

"Well, you have plenty of time to discover it, but you shall not uncover this important mystery by lingering here any longer, my dear." He stood up and offered her a helping hand. She looked at him hesitantly, wondering if accepting his help would be another sign of vulnerability or just a thing that would come as 'normal' now.

She followed the second thought. She took his hand and stood up, then brushed the invisible dust from her clothes. She really hoped this helping hand meant he was trying to be a gentleman and it wasn't supposed to be an act of mercy. There wasn't a single thing she despised more than mercy.

"May I propose the next stop on our little voyage?" he asked when she stood straight.

She raised her brow with surprise, but answered casually and with a little smile, "Yes, of course." What could he mean? An alcohol store?

A content smirk appeared on his lips. "I highly recommend a place with a bed. You should get some sleep."

She frowned and said sarcastically, "Are you implying I look so bad I need to take a nap?"

"No," he denied, heading to the car. "I only wanted to allude to the fact you haven't slept in roughly two days. I don't see how I could drive you to the hospital when you faint from exhaustion."

Physically she wasn't tired at all, but he had the point. "Touché," she said in an agreeing tone and followed him to the car. Was he worried about her or was it just an imagination?

It had to be just her imagination. There was no other option.


End file.
