— You and Sidney can bicker for as long as you want, — Regina said. — The truth will come out eventually, it always does. Maybe the town will even get to hear about who you’re in bed with for this campaign. That would be interesting. — They were at the back stairwell now. Regina opened the door, and the two women went down the steps. When they came to the first-floor landing, Regina stopped and said, — Don’t you think they should know about you and Gold? — She reached for the door.
— I’m not in bed with anyone, — Emma said. — I’m fighting fire with…
Regina cried out before she could finish.
A wall of flame had greeted Regina as she pulled open the door, sending her backward into Emma, then to the ground. She fell hard against the stairs they’d just come down, and Emma, holding the railing for balance and holding her other arm up to protect her face from the heat, looked down and saw that Regina was holding her ankle. We’re both gonna burn up in here, Emma thought, but she put the thought out of her mind and knelt down beside Regina.
— Come on, — she said.
— I can’t walk, — Regina said, eyeing the flames behind Emma. — The whole building is on fire. — She locked eyes with Emma. — You have to — you have to get me out of here.
Emma, not one to hesitate, got up, and burst into the burning lobby of Town Hall, found a fire extinguisher, and started blowing frosted foam around herself and the doorway to the stairs, creating a pathway that would lead them both to safety.
She went back for Regina then, and she swore, before picking her up into her arms, that Regina seemed surprised that she’d returned. What does she think, I would leave her? Emma wondered, hoisting her rival into her arms. She carried her carefully through the burning lobby, sticking close to the path she’d sprayed.
Emma kicked open the door and saw police cars, fire trucks, and reporters clustered together in the circular driveway, all of them wide-eyed at the image before them: The sheriff coated in soot and sweat, carrying the mayor out of a burning building.
The cameras all began to flash and snap.
— Put me down, — Regina said. — Put me down.
EMTs rushed to them as Emma gently lowered Regina to the ground, panting as she did so.
— You’re complaining about how I saved your life?
— I seriously doubt you saved my life, — Regina said, pushing an oxygen mask away, scowling. — Where is Sidney? — she cried. Then, to Emma: — I doubt there was much danger.
Emma shook her head, stood, and stepped back as the authorities tended to their mayor.
There was no winning with this woman.
* * *
Emma talked with the firefighters for some time after they’d hauled Regina away to the hospital and put out the fire. Something didn’t feel right about any of it. A coincidental fire? When the two of them were there? And after she spent a few minutes snooping around in the debris, she knew exactly why it didn’t feel right. When she found the rag, she headed straight for Gold’s pawnshop.
— You started it, — she said to him, slamming the rag down on his desk. — I can smell your lanolin.
Gold looked up, a careful smile on his face.
— I have been here all night, — he said. — I did no such thing. — He glanced at the rag. — I admit there’s a chemical smell. But there are a lot of chemical smells. Chemicals burn, often.
— I don’t want to win like this, — Emma said. — Is this what it means to have an alliance with you? Breaking the rules? It’s not who I am.
— Who you are, — said Gold, — is somebody who will be a real sheriff for this town, not a shill. That makes you better. — Emma had nothing to say to this, and so Gold continued: — Are you ready for the debate tomorrow?
— I haven’t thought about it.
— Sidney Glass is slippery, I’m sure he will be ready. I’d advise you to come prepared.
* * *
The picture of Emma carrying Regina from the burning building was on the cover of the Storybrooke Daily Mirror the next morning, and all day, the town was abuzz with the news. Emma didn’t mind the positivity and the confidence, but Gold’s role in the whole thing gnawed at her all day, even as her friends — Ruby, Granny, Mary Margaret, Henry, Archie, and others — went about the business of last-minute slumping Emma reconnected with Mary Margaret about thirty minutes before the debate, and the two of them walked to the library together.
— You’re going to win, — Mary Margaret said. — I can feel it. And with the picture?
It was one positive comment too many, and Emma broke down and told Mary Margaret her suspicions about Gold’s participation in the fire. Mary Margaret listened to the story, then was quiet for a long moment. As they approached the library, they joined together with the assembling crowds. It seemed as though all of Storybrooke was there to hear the debate.
— What kind of message would it send to Henry? — Emma said, the two of them climbing the stairs. — To win like that?
— Would he ever know?
— But that would mean lying to him, — Emma said.
— But telling the truth might lead to you losing.
— I guess that’s just a risk I’ll have to take.
Mary Margaret nodded at this.
— There it is, then, — she said.
— There it is.
* * *
When it came time for Emma to speak, she still wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Sidney had given boilerplate answers and taken the safe route with all of Archie’s questions. The audience seemed to respond positively. Based only on the energy of the applause, Emma knew, as she walked out onto the stage, that she could ride the «hero» wave all the way to the win.
But it didn’t take much time out in front of the audience — the entire town, really — before she heard Mary Margaret’s simple words: There it is. Sometimes things weren’t all that complicated. We just make them complicated in order to hide from them.
— I’m sorry, I’m sorry, — Emma said, partway through an answer she was giving about her thoughts on the local noise ordinance. She looked down at the first row and saw Henry, bright-eyed, smiling up at her. — I have to back up. I have to say something about the recent fire.
The crowd went still. Emma didn’t know if she was about to make a big mistake, but she knew she had to do it.
— Mr. Gold started that fire, — she said, and the gasps were audible. — And he started that fire, — she continued, — because he was trying to help me win this election. Make me into a hero. — She took a breath, waited for the whispers and shocked chatter to quiet. — I know, I know, — she said. — And I’m sorry. — She looked at Regina, who sat beside Henry, arms crossed, a mixture of surprise and smug satisfaction on her face. — Regina, — Emma said, — I didn't know about it, but I can’t condone it, and I can’t benefit from it. You could have been hurt. What’s most important is to tell the truth about what happened.
She could see, at the back of the room, Mr. Gold stand, an impassive look on his face. He turned and walked toward the exit.
— This will probably cost me the election, — Emma said. — But I don’t want to win with a lie.
* * *
Afterward, Emma and Henry went to Granny’s Diner. Sweets for Henry. A stiff drink for Emma. She hadn’t felt this low in some time.
Henry seemed okay with the outcome. After taking his last bite of pie, he wiped his mouth, reached into his backpack, and pulled out Graham’s old walkie-talkies. He gave one to her.
— What’s this for? — Emma said.
— I thought about it some more, — Henry said. — I think Operation Cobra should be back on. You stood up to Mr. Gold. You’re a hero.
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