Beane Odette - Reawakened - A Once Upon A Time Tale

— Graham picked me for a reason, Regina, — Emma said. — I know you don’t like it, but he did.

— Yes, a reason, — she said. — He wanted to sleep with you.

— That’s not true.

— Isn’t it? — Regina said. When Emma could think of nothing to say in response, Regina continued:

— Either way, it’s time for us to make a clean break. You and I both know it’s inappropriate for you to be employed by the town. You’ll have to find some other work.

— What are you saying? — Emma asked.

— I’m saying, — said Regina, taking Graham’s badge from her hands, — that you’re fired.

Emma went straight to Gold. There was something about his behavior earlier that gave her a hunch that he’d be interested in helping. He wasn’t being friendly — he didn’t have it in him to be friendly. Gold wanted her to be sheriff.

At his shop, Emma told him what Regina had done, and he nodded. This was all some kind of chess game to him, wasn’t it?

— She’s almost right, — he said, pulling a document from a cabinet behind his desk. It was old and dusty. He held it up. — The town charter, — he said with a grin. He laid it out on the counter. — Let me show you how she’s wrong.

Regina called a press conference in her office later that morning, to announce the hiring of Sidney Glass as the town’s new sheriff.

Glass, of course, was beaming for the cameras, thrilled at this promotion, always so eager to do the bidding of his beloved mayor. Emma couldn’t stand that guy.

But it wasn’t so simple, as Gold had pointed out. She stood and watched Regina’s haughty press conference for only a minute or two before she decided to make her move.

When she strode into the office, even Regina looked surprised.

— This isn’t set, — Emma said. — She can’t appoint him. We have to have an election. And I’m running.

— The mayor is entitled to…

— She isn’t, — Emma said calmly, holding up her printout of the charter. She’d highlighted the relevant passage. — She can put a candidate forward, but there has to be an election.

— Fine, Ms. Swan, — said Regina, not bothering to take the charter. — We’ll go through with the formalities. And the candidate I’ve nominated, Mr. Sidney Glass, will then be the new sheriff. — Sidney Glass, for his part, looked flummoxed by all this, but he kept up his smile for the cameras. — How’s that? — Regina said.

— Perfect, — said Emma.

The cameras all turned to her.

A few hours after she’d rained on Regina’s parade, Emma was on patrol, on foot, when she walked by the diner and saw Henry through the window. He was at a booth, alone. She smiled, seeing him there, reading what she assumed was his book of stories. But when she went inside, she realized that he was reading the newspaper, not his book.

— Studying up on current events?

Henry looked up, and Emma could see that he was very worried.

— What is it?

— You haven’t seen it, have you?

She sat down in the booth and pulled the paper across the table. Her old mug shot — the one Graham had taken, and she felt a twinge of sadness as the tiny memory flitted through her mind like a little bird — but the headline was new. It read: ex-jailbird Emma Swan birthed babe behind bars.

Emma stiffened, sat upright, and picked up the paper.

— How did they do this so fast? — she muttered, scanning. The article — written by Sidney Glass — included all the details of her «possession of stolen goods» incident. Which was impossible. Or should have been impossible, anyway.

— Is it true? — Henry asked quietly. — Was I born in jail?

She looked at him over the paper and then set it down.

— It is true, — she said, — but it’s complicated. I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t think that it mattered. — She sighed, picked up the paper, twisted it up. — Let’s chuck this. Come on. Let’s go out to your castle.

— It’s the same thing again, — Henry said. — Evil wins because it doesn’t have to play fair. You can’t just throw it away. It already ruined your election.

— Nothing’s ruined, — she said. — We’ll just have to adjust. — She reached across the table, took his hand. Remembering her conversation at the pawnshop, she said, — Besides, I have a new ally. Mr. Gold.

— Him? — Henry said, his eyes alight. — He’s worse than her.

— I’m not so sure about that, — Emma said. — And besides, he has some good ideas.

But Henry was inconsolable, and he retreated into himself as she tried to cheer him up. In the end he crossed his arms and shook his head.

— Good never wins, — he said again. — It just doesn’t. — He took a breath and looked up at her. — It’s like with Rumplestiltskin and his son.

Emma squinted.

— Rumplestiltskin? The Gold guy? He didn’t have a son.

Henry rolled his eyes.

— His son is only like the most important thing in his life.

— Is he? — Emma said, remembering what Archie had told her weeks ago: It’s his language. — I didn’t know that.

— He was this huge coward, before he got magic. He was like the laughingstock of his whole village. Except his son, Baelfire, really loved him and didn’t care.

Henry then told Emma the story of how Rumplestiltskin first gained power, after his hubris led him to be tricked by a wizard named Zoso, locked in a curse that had tormented him for decades. Zoso tricked Rumplestiltskin into taking the curse onto himself. It gave him powerful magic, but it interfered with his ability to feel, his ability to be human. And it made his son, Bae, fear him instead of love him.

— That’s sort of horrible, — Emma said, wondering what Henry might be trying to communicate with this particular story. She wondered if it had something to do with her new role as sheriff.

— You’re right, — Henry said. — And the worst part is, it’s just another story where good loses. Zoso is the bad guy and he wins.

— Seems sort of like Rumplestiltskin is the bad guy, though, — Emma said.

— Yeah, — Henry said. — I know. But he didn’t used to be.

Emma fumed for the rest of the afternoon and decided, after she’d closed up the office, that she had to say something to Regina.

She’d seen the paper all over town and knew everyone was reading it. And her anger wasn’t about the election or the smear campaign, not really. It was that Henry now knew something she hadn’t wanted him to know, and no one — not Regina, not Sidney Glass, not anyone — had the right to tell her secrets.

She went to Town Hall. The light was on in Regina’s upstairs office, where she’d been earlier in the day, and Emma stormed in without knocking.

Regina, startled, gasped when she looked up from her paperwork.

— Those were juvie records, — Emma said. — You had no right. I know you want Sidney to win, but you had no right.

— It’s far easier to win public elections when you haven’t been to jail, Ms. Swan. I think the people deserve to know who they’re getting for a sheriff, don’t you? It’s about Henry also. He should know the truth, too. Shouldn’t he? — Emma said nothing. Regina, already bored with the conversation, returned to her paperwork. — Besides, you can discuss this during the debate and clear up any inaccuracies. How does that sound?

— What debate?

Regina stood and put a few folders into her briefcase. «The debate. It’s tomorrow». She smiled curtly, straightened her suit, and strode past Emma and out of the office.

Emma followed.

— Nice to know that, — she said.