Chapter Text
Lightning crackled overhead as the portal roared to life, its swirling energy carving into the air like an open wound in time. The barn trembled under the weight of raw magic, wind whipping through the space as dust and straw lifted into the storm Zelena had summoned.
"Regina!" Emma's voice barely carried over the chaos.
Regina didn't need the warning—she could feel the shift in magic, the way time itself seemed to bend and twist under Zelena's spell. The portal was unstable, unpredictable. If it opened, there was no telling where—or when—it would lead.
Across the barn, Zelena stood at the heart of it all, her green eyes gleaming with triumph. "You just don't know when to quit, do you, dear?"
Regina raised her hands, dark magic curling at her fingertips. "Shut it down."
Zelena only laughed. "Oh, I don't think so."
The spell surged, the air tightening around them. Emma and David braced themselves, looking around and finding very little cover. Regina pushed harder, her magic clashing with Zelena's, but the force between them only fed the storm as the ground shook.
David followed the battling duo closely, with Regina keeping Zelena occupied and Rumple nowhere to be seen. He saw it as his opening to save his newborn son. He sprang forward and caught the little bundle just in time as a blast of golden light exploded outward from the two sorceros.
Regina stumbled. For a split second, everything slowed—she felt the pull of the portal before she saw it. A force, deep and ancient, wrapped around her like invisible hands.
Then—she was falling.
Emma lunged for her, her fingertips just grazing Regina's wrist before she was yanked backward. The last thing Regina saw was Emma's eyes widening in horror, her mouth forming a desperate NO! a splash of Emma's magic trying to reach for her helplessly.
The world twisted. Regina's breath caught in her throat as time itself unraveled around her, spinning in an endless void.
And just as suddenly as she had fallen—she landed.
And then—nothing.
Regina's head throbbed, a deep, insistent ache that pulsed with each beat of her heart. The air smelled strange—too clean, too sharp, lacking the familiar warmth of fresh linens in the royal chambers. The surface beneath her wasn't her bed, nor was it the cool stone of the palace floors. It was soft but unnatural, and the fabric covering her felt thin and foreign.
She inhaled slowly, steadying herself. Her body felt sluggish, as if she had been asleep for far too long. When she opened her eyes, the world around her was bright, too bright. A blinding white glow flooded her vision, forcing her to squint.
The room was… strange. The walls were smooth and pale, the ceiling lined with glowing orbs that flickered unnaturally. No torches, no candlelight—just a sterile brightness that hummed faintly overhead. There was a quiet beeping sound nearby, steady and rhythmic, like some sort of… enchanted signal?
Magic?
Regina's fingers twitched.
No, she would have felt it. This wasn't magic. But whatever this place was, it wasn't the castle.
Her wariness sharpened, her mind sluggish as she tried to recall what had happened, how did she end up in this foriegn place.
Nothing came.
Regina looked around, nothing was familiar. The room she was in was unlike anything she had ever seen.
A sigh broke the silence.
Regina's gaze shifted to the woman sitting beside her bed.
She was young—late-twenties, maybe—with dark hair cut way too short for what considered suitable for a lady. In her arms, she cradled a newborn, wrapped snugly in a white and blue blanket. The woman's expression was tense, her fingers gripping the blanket a little too tightly as she watched Regina with cautious concern.
Something about her was familiar.
Regina frowned, her mind grasping for recognition. She knew this woman. She should know her. And yet, when she searched her memory, the only face she found was of a little girl—soft features, wide brown eyes, a pink bow tied neatly in dark hair.
But that wasn't possible.
Because the girl in her memory was no older than eleven, and she had seen her just the other day as they had dined together at the Great Hall.
Regina's throat felt dry when she finally spoke. "Who are you?"
The woman stiffened. Her grip on the baby tightened.
And then, carefully, she said, "Regina, it's me. Snow."
Regina's breath hitched, her fears confirmed. Something was very wrong.
Snow White was a child, but this woman was not her Snow White. Her chest tightened as her mind reeled. How could it even be possible? Maybe she's dreaming a really strange dream she just needs to wake up from. That must be it. She shut her eyes, and for the first time in the last year, she willed herself to wake in the palace.
Snow's heart clenched at the way Regina stared at her—eyes wide, bewildered, as if she were looking at a ghost.
This wasn't the reaction she had prepared for.
When she had been called to the hospital after Regina had been found unconscious near the town line, Snow had braced herself for anger, for biting remarks, for the usual battle of wills that had defined their relationship for so long.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
"Regina," Snow tried again, keeping her voice gentle, careful, like she was speaking to a wounded animal. "It's me. You know me."
Regina shook her head, her fingers gripping the hospital blanket. "No," she whispered. "You're lying."
Snow exhaled slowly, glancing down at the baby in her arms as if he might offer an answer.
Something was wrong.
She knew Regina—knew the sharpness of her mind, the way she analyzed everything before speaking. But now, there was only confusion in her eyes, an uncertainty that sent a shiver down Snow's spine.
This wasn't an act.
Regina genuinely didn't recognize her.
Snow swallowed hard and stood. "I'll be right back," she assured her, even though she had no idea if that was true. "Just… just rest, okay?"
Regina didn't answer.
She only watched as Snow turned and hurried from the room.
Snow's heart was pounding as she reached for her phone. She needed Emma. And David.
Something had happened to Regina, and they needed to figure out what.
Fast.
"Please come here quickly, bring Emma with you." Snow asked David as he picked up the phone. "Something isn't right with Regina."
"I'll be right there." He replied and she hanged up.
David barely had time to process Snow's rushed phone call, he drove to the station briefly explained to Emma the little information Snow provided to him. Before they knew it, they parked in front of the hospital.
Rushing to the main entrance, the doors swung open before him. Hurrying through, they met with Snow, baby in tow, her face pale with worry.
"What's going on?" Emma asked, scanning her expression. "You said it was Regina?"
Snow nodded, breathless. "Something's wrong with her. She—" She hesitated, struggling to find the words. "She doesn't remember me."
Emma frowned. "What do you mean, she doesn't remember you?"
"She looked right at me and thought I was lying when I said my name. And… David, Emma—" Snow sucked in a breath. "She looks young."
Emma blinked. "Young how?"
Snow hesitated before shaking her head. "You just have to see for yourselves."
That was enough to get them moving.
The hallway leading to Regina's room felt longer than usual, the air thick with tension. Emma didn't know what she was expecting, but when they finally stepped inside, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Regina sat stiffly in the hospital bed, her hands clutched tightly around the sheets. Her dark hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, her face untouched by time, her features softer, younger.
Much younger.
Emma's eyes widened. "Holy shit."
David, standing beside her, let out a low breath. "That's not possible."
But it was.
Because the woman sitting in that bed looked nothing like the Regina Mills they knew.
She looked nineteen.
And judging by the wary way she stared at them, she had no idea who they were.
"Holy shit!" Regina's composure cracked. A blonde woman stepped inside, her movements brisk and purposeful. A man followed—tall, broad-shouldered, with an expression that was both wary and relieved. "That's not possible!"
She had no memory of this. No memory of Snow growing older, no memory of the child she held in her arms, this world, this place.
What had happened to her?
"Snow?" the blonde asked, barely glancing at Regina before turning to the other woman. "Is she—?"
"She just woke up," Snow said, standing. "Something's wrong." Regina's spine straightened.
She was the one waking up in an unfamiliar world. She was the one facing a grown version of a girl who should still be a child. And they were acting as if she was the anomaly?
The blonde woman turned to her then, her piercing gaze locking onto Regina's. "Do you know where you are?"
Regina lifted her chin. She would not show weakness. "That depends," she said evenly. "Are you going to tell me?"
The blonde sighed, exchanging a glance with the man beside her.
Regina didn't like it. That unspoken conversation, as if they knew something she didn't. As if they held the answers and she was simply a puzzle to be solved.
The blonde man took the child from Snow, they seemed close. Was he her husband? The mere notion was absurd for her. "Do you remember anything?" He asked.
Regina hesitated.
She knew who she was. Regina Mills. Queen of the White Kingdom in the Enchanted Forest. She had been married for a year now, though the grief of Daniel's death still lingered. The weight of the crown was still foreign, and her role as queen was still something she was adjusting to. And now she was here. Wherever here was.
"I remember the palace," she answered carefully. "The court. My studies." A pause. "Your last birthday, Snow."
Silence.
Snow's face paled. "My—" She swallowed. "My eleventh birthday?"
Regina gave her a look. "Of course."
The air in the room shifted.
Emma—the blonde, Regina assumed—exhaled. "Regina… that was way long ago." She didn't want to sturtle the brunnete and start explaining her about the curse.
Regina's heart stilled.
No. That wasn't— It couldn't be.
The words hit her like a physical blow, but she didn't let it show. She couldn't. Not here, not in front of these people she barely knew. Instead, she forced herself to breathe, to think, to process.
Regina sat on the hospital bed, watching the trio in front of her with careful eyes. The woman—Snow White, though far older than she should be—spoke in a gentle, reassuring voice, but Regina could sense the tension beneath her kindness. The man at her side, whom they called David, seemed equally cautious, while Emma, the blonde woman who spoke the least, regarded her with an unreadable expression.
Regina's hands smoothed over the thin hospital gown draped over her body. The fabric felt foreign, unnatural, though she didn't quite know why. She glanced around at the bright, sterile room, her unease growing. The walls were pristine white, the strange bed adjusted by buttons, and the odd glowing devices on the walls blinked and beeped with unfamiliar purpose. This wasn't any kind of infirmary she had ever seen.
Dr. Whale's diagnosis was brief.
"There's nothing physically wrong with her," he said, flipping through Regina's chart. "No head trauma, no signs of a injury. Medically speaking, She's perfectly healthy."
Regina watched them all carefully, absorbing every word in silence.
Snow turned to her with a gentle smile. "That's wonderful. Let's get you out of here."
Regina felt relief but masked it well. She had no desire to remain in this strange place any longer than necessary.
Snow turned to her with a smile. "That's wonderful. Let's get you out of here."
Regina gave a slow nod, slipping carefully off the bed. The gown swayed around her legs uncomfortably. "I assume you have something more suitable for me to wear?"
Emma stepped forward and handed her a neatly folded pile of clothing. "These should fit. They're… modern."
Regina hesitated before taking them. The fabric was softer, stretchier than what she was used to. She wasn't sure what to make of them.
"Thank you," she said after a moment.
Snow guided her to a small room where she could change, and Regina took a steadying breath before slipping out of the gown. The clothing was odd—too snug in some places, too loose in others—but it was warm and covered her properly. She would endure.
When she stepped out, the three of them gave her an approving once-over, though Emma had a knowing smirk.
"That'll do," Emma said.
Regina narrowed her eyes but said nothing.
Together, they led her through the hospital halls, past people in strange attire, moving in ways that felt unnatural yet oddly practiced. Lights buzzed from fixtures overhead, and outside the tall windows, strange metal contraptions sped by on the road, their bright red and white lights flickering in the dark. Regina tried not to stare, but it was difficult to ignore just how much the world around her didn't make sense.
She felt eyes on her and turned to find Snow watching her carefully.
"You okay?" Snow asked gently.
Regina straightened her shoulders. "I am fine."
She wasn't. But she would never admit it.
The cold air hit her as they stepped outside, and Regina shivered involuntarily. The wind carried a sharpness she wasn't prepared for, laced with unfamiliar scents—something burnt, something metallic, something she couldn't name.
A strange yellow carriage sat before them, its doors opening as Emma pressed something in her hand. Regina stopped short, her heart skipping in alarm.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "You've never seen a car before, have you?"
Regina lifted her chin. "I have seen many things."
Emma smirked. "Right. Well, Your Majesty, let's get you home."
Regina hesitated only a moment before stepping forward, gripping the handle of the door and sliding inside. The seat was unlike any carriage she had been in before—smooth, oddly comfortable, and lined with something that smelled of polished leather. She looked out the window and saw Snow and David getting into another carrigae like vehicle - A car Emma called it. They sat their baby in a strange looking basket inside the car.
Regina kept her hands in her lap, her posture poised and proper, but inside, her mind raced. She didn't know what kind of world she had woken up in.
But she would find out.
The drive from the hospital to the mansion was silent, save for the soft hum of the engine.
Now, as a mansion came into view, a part of Regina wished she could close her eyes and wake up back in the familiar surroundings of her castle, with the oppressive weight of her husband's demands and her step-daughter's wishes. Anything but this strange, unnerving version of her life.
The car came to a stop "Here we are," Emma said, her voice gentle but carrying a weight Regina could sense. "This is where you'll be staying, it's yours, your home."
Regina took in the mansion's grandeur, what did Emma mean by saying it's her home? It wasn't where she belonged.
Before Regina could demand answers from the blone, a 12-years-old looking boy ran quickly from the mansion's front yard to open the car's door for Regina. The boy's eyes full of concern and love, though there was a hesitance there too, a nervousness he couldn't hide. Emma got out of the car hurridly and reached for the boy, taking him away. Regina saw her talking to boy in a hushed tone, his eyes full of cofusion.
As she stepped out of the car, her legs felt shaky, and for a moment, she wondered if she would collapse. The dizziness that had been plaguing her since waking up still hadn't eased. She didn't know how to navigate this world that everyone around her said was hers, but felt so alien.
Snow reached out a hand to steady her, his grip warm but hesitant. "We're here for you, Regina. You're not alone." She didn't even notice them arriving.
Regina glanced at her, trying to make sense of her words. She didn't know if she could trust anyone just yet—not when everything felt like it had been twisted and turned upside down.
She nodded slowly, though doubt still clouded her expression. She had to try to understand—something.
"Someone needs to tell me what is going on here." Regina could make sense of anything and it was starting to get her anxious.
"We will, we'll thave it all figured out." Snow promised. "Follow me."
The mansion's large door swung open as Snow pushed forward and stepped inside, her presence as comforting as it was unsettling. She'd been there when Regina had woken up, explaining bits and pieces of what happened during her unconsciousness. Snow's gentle eyes met Regina's, her voice soft as she spoke. "We'll help you settle in. Just take things one step at a time. It'll be okay."
Regina tried to believe her, but everything in her screamed that this wasn't right. She should be in a different time, a different life.
Inside the mansion, it was warm, but there was a heaviness in the air, a quiet that felt too thick to breathe through. The grand staircase spiraled upward, the floor gleaming beneath her feet, but Regina couldn't appreciate it. All she could think about was how much this place, this life, didn't belong to her.
"This doesn't feel like my life," Regina whispered, her voice barely audible as she looked at Snow, Emma, and Henry. "Please tell me what happened."
Emma stepped closer, her voice firm but kind. "Let's sit down at the living room."
Regina gave a faint, uncertain nod, as her eyes scanned the unfamiliar surroundings. She didn't know who she was supposed to be in this new world.
Emma gently guided her toward the main sitting room, helping her sit down on one of the plush chairs by the fire. Snow and David settled nearby, giving her space, but also offering comfort in the presence of their concern. David curled the sleeping baby in his arms.
"Regina, there is no easy way to explain this, a time spell gone wrong hit you and as it seems it reverted you back to your 19-years-old self." Snow explained softly. "I undrstand it might sound crazy and hard to believe but it's the truth."
"Here, look at these." The boy said as he handed her a medium sized paintig, it looked like aintings at least. "These are called photographs, we use a device called camera to capture moments we want to remember."
Regina looked at the first photograph closly, it was the boy a couple years younger, wrapped in the arms of a woman, which she believed is the older version of her.
"It can't be real..." She mumbled.
"It is, Regina." David spoke for the first time since they entered the house. "We understand it is confusing, but this is you and Henry."
Henry that is the boy's name. Her father's name.
"I'm your son." Henry sad looking at her in a way she couldn't decipher. Sadness? Perhaps Worry?
As the fire crackled in the hearth, Regina allowed herself a moment to close her eyes, letting the heat from the flames warm her. She had no idea how to make sense of this new life.
"There is much to talk about and explain, but i believe it would be best if we let you sleep first." Emma concluded.
As Snow and David said their goodbyes, Emma and Henry led Regina upstairs to a large, quiet room where she would be sleeping for the night. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room, casting long shadows against the walls. It was an ornate room, decorated with fine furniture, a large four-poster bed, and an intricately carved wardrobe. They said it was her own bedroom, yet it still felt foreign to Regina.
Snow's voice echoed in the back of her mind as she heard the promise they'd made—"We'll take you to see Rumpelstilskin tomorrow. He'll be able to help you make sense of all this." But even knowing that Rumple might be able to help didn't calm the storm of confusion and frustration swirling inside her.
Emma gestured to the bed, her face soft with concern. "You should rest. It's been a long day, and we don't want to overwhelm you more than we already have."
Regina nodded silently. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. But there was no escaping the overwhelming sense of wrongness that clung to her every step. She sat on the edge of the bed, but as she reached for the covers, something caught her attention. A strange sensation—a soft, humming whir, like the low buzz of machinery.
She froze.
"What's that noise?" she asked, eyes darting around the room, trying to locate the source.
Henry, who had been watching her closely, saw the fear in her eyes and understood immediately. "It's just the air conditioning, mom. It's… it's something that controls the temperature in the room. You don't have to worry about it."
"Please call me Regina." She couldn't get used to fact he claimed to be her son. Couldn't hear him calling her mom. The look on his face indicated she hurt him with her request, so she changed the subject. "The temperature…" Regina repeated quietly, glancing at him. "How do you control it?"
Henry hesitated for a moment, unsure how to explain the new world to someone who had been thrust into it so abruptly. But he gave a reassuring smile, sitting down beside her. "You don't need to do anything. It's already set to a comfortable level."
She nodded, but the mystery of the strange noises lingered in her mind. It was hard to shake the feeling that the world she found herself in was so… alien.
"Okay," she muttered, trying to push the discomfort aside. "What about… that?" She gestured toward the bathroom door, her eyes full of uncertainty.
Emma followed her gaze, her expression softening with understanding. "You're probably wondering how the bathroom works," she said, giving a gentle laugh. "Don't worry, we'll show you."
Regina's confusion deepened as she followed Emma's gaze to the bathroom. She could hear the flush of water inside, but there were no servants to assist her. How would she navigate something as basic as using the bathroom in this unfamiliar place?
Emma guided her over to the bathroom door and opened it, revealing a simple, modern space. "It's a little different than what you're used to, but you don't have to worry. We'll help you."
Regina stepped inside, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar fixtures with trepidation. A toilet sat against the wall, sleek and white, unlike any of the chamber pots she had grown up with. She stared at it, unsure of how it worked, or even if she was supposed to sit on it.
Emma noticed her hesitation and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Regina. The button on top… you press it when you're done, and it flushes everything away. Don't worry about a thing."
She nodded, unable to voice her confustion. She needed to find some control over her new life—if it was even possible.
Once she had finished, Emma showed her how to use the sink to wash her hands. The motion of the water running was smooth and effortless—another world Regina couldn't begin to understand. But Emma was patient, explaining each action, guiding her through each step.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Regina," Emma said quietly, after a moment of guiding her hands through the automatic soap dispenser. "It'll take time, but we'll make sure you're okay."
Regina couldn't bring herself to argue, even though she felt the pang of bitterness rise within her. She is a queen. She could command armies, made decisions that could change the course of history. And now… she was helpless in a world that wasn't even her own.
After a moment, Emma led her back to the bed, helping her pull the covers over herself. Henry long gone, probably to his own room.
"Tomorrow we'll see Rumple," Emms said, turning back toward Regina. "You know him already. He knows a lot about magic, about time, and about how things work here. Maybe he can explain what's happened to you."
Regina glanced at her, her face serious, but her voice faint. "Do you believe that he can help me?" she asked, the uncertainty clear in her tone.
Emma nodded slowly. "I do. Rumple's… complicated. He's never been someone I could trust, but he does have a great knowledge, and he is probably the only pne who could help."
Regina held her gaze for a moment, her lips pressed tight, then nodded slowly. She wasn't sure if she believed her, but she was too tired to protest.
Emma pulled the covers up to Regina's chin, her smile soft. "Just get some sleep. We'll figure this out together, okay? Tomorrow is a new day." She turned off the light and left the room.
Regina stared at the ceiling, her mind too chaotic to find any peace. But as the minutes ticked by and the quiet settled around her, exhaustion finally took hold. Her eyelids fluttered, and she drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by the nightmares of her life back home at the Enchanted Forest, her husband she couldn't escape, and the twisted reality she was now trapped in.
But at least, for now, she had people beside her who cared. That, perhaps, was the only thing that could keep her grounded