What the Heart Wants (Sequel to Pixie Dust Never Lies)

Chapter 22

I propped my elbow on the smooth, cool stone of the well: the same well where we had captured my mother, and where Emma was cursed. It wasn't my first choice for a meeting place, but I didn't want my mother in my home just yet, and this was a private conversation. The sun was climbing ever-so-slowly towards its peak in the sky, but morning dew still cling to the leaves that hovered over the clearing, slowly dropping to the ground and, occasionally, splashing on top of my head. I looked over the edge of the well and stared at my reflection in the water. Though the face that stared back at me was void of emotion, inside I was torn. Was this really a good idea? I had been so sure when I explained the plan to the Charmings, but now, as I was preparing to put my plan in action, my confidence was wavering. I started fidgeting with the vial in my hand nervously.

Suddenly, I felt a soft hand slide on top of mine, stilling my nervous motions. As Emma stepped into my periferal vision, I felt my anxiety lessen and my breathing slow. We turned to look at each other in unison. Staring into her beautiful green eyes, I saw all of the love, compassion, and understanding I'd come to love in the years I'd known her. Knowing that Emma was here, by my side, gave me the confidence I needed to do what I had to do. I turned back towards the well and took a deep breath. 

"Mother?" I called out. "Mother, I know you can hear me. Come out here and face me. We need to talk." 

"Really?" I heard a cross voice say from behind me. Emma and I whirled around in unison. There was my mother, glaring at us with her arms crossed in front of her. She looked so out of place in the middle of the field. Normally this was the one place in Storybrooke where she wasn't out of place, with her long extravagant dresses usually reserved for royalty in the Enchanted Forest. Today she had decided to sport a sensible black pantsuit: simple, but perfecty tailored to her body. Her long hair was down, falling around her shoulders in loose curls. My heart ached when I realized that she looked almost exacly like she did when she died in my arms in Gold's shop. 

"Hello, Mother."

"Hello," she said in a curt tone. "Well, I'm here. What do you want?"

"I just need to talk to you," I insisted.

She scoffed. "Sure you do. That's why you brought her," she said, gesturing towards Emma. "So, what's your plan? Are you going to capture me? Or just kill me now, and make it permanent?" she spat. 

I took a deep, exasperated breath, trying to calm myself down. "As logical as that would be, that's not why we're here."

"Well, then you really are stupider than you look. That's what I would have done."

I pressed my lips together in a hard line, my brow furowing in barely-contained  frustration. "Well, I don't want to be you."

"Oh, I remember that well enough, dear," she sighed. "Alright, I'll play along. What is it you want to talk about?"

This was the part I'd been dreading the most. I still wasn't sure how I was going to word it to her. My palms began to sweat as I tried to formulate what to say. "Your past," I said.

"My past?" she scoffed. "What about my past?" she asked.

"The part of your past you can't remember."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't have time to explain-"

"Well, You'd better make time," she interupted. 

I sighed. "We used one of your hairs to make a dreamcatcher, and it showed us your past. I saw your parents..." I paused. My mother's face looked absolutely striken. I had never seen her so surprised, or vulnerable. "I saw my grandmother, and my grandfather. I saw how happy you were...and then I saw it all fall apart." My voice cracked as I saw tears beginning to stream down her face. I had never seen my mother cry before. As quickly as they formed, my mother wiped them away, trying to maintain her strong exterior. But it was too late, I saw how the reminder of her past affected her.