At Henry's urging, Emma convinces Mary Margaret to pay a visit to a comatose John Doe and read to him from the storybook. But Mary Margaret is stunned at the outcome of her visit.

***

Harry scowled at the paper in front of him. "Magic is hard to understand sometimes."

Newt snickered as he sat in the booth across from his nephew. "Especially when it comes to philosophy."

"They call Dumbledore a hero, yet he's done all these awful things, including to you and Aunt Queenie," Harry gestured wildly. "Yet Draco's family, which is known for Dark Arts, have been our greatest allies. If Mum wasn't taught something by you, she was taught by Lucius and Cissa."

"That's true," Newt nodded.

Harry tapped the tabletop as he thought. "And spells can be used for all sorts of intent," he continued. "Even a Levitation Charm would be harmful if you were using it to lift a weapon into place above someone. Or a Leg-Locker Curse, if cast in the wrong place, could send someone falling from a great height. That could be fatal. Or if a spell causes someone to lose their breath . . . "

"Very good," Newt nodded. "So what does that tell you?"

"Magic is magic," Harry deadpanned. "And it shouldn't be classified by light or dark."

Newt laughed. "Good reasoning, Harry."

"Gentlemen," Ruby walked up to them with a smile, her tray held in front of her. "Can I get you anything else this evening?"

Harry looked at Newt, who gave him an encouraging smile. "Could I have another cocoa, please, Ruby?" he asked.

"You bet," Ruby winked. "With cinnamon?"

"Yes, please!" Harry grinned.

"Another cinnamon lover, huh?" Newt twisted to see an unfamiliar man approach, a glass tumbler in his hand. "How are you doing, Mr. Potter-Swan?"

"I'm feeling better," Harry smiled shyly. "Thank you, Dr. Whale."

"Good," Whale nodded in satisfaction. "Well, you know where to find me if anything changes."

"Yes, sir."

Whale turned his appraising gaze onto Newt, and Harry giggled. "Uncle Newt, this is Dr. Whale. He gave me a checkover after Mum crashed. Dr. Whale, this is my Uncle Newt."

Newt smiled at Whale and held out his hand. "Thank you for making sure he was OK."

"Happy to do it," Whale shook his hand. "And I'm glad he was unharmed. Mainly because I didn't want the boy's mother to have a reason to kill me."

Newt laughed. "That's Emma!"

"Uh, I think Mary Margaret should be here soon," Ruby told Whale as she walked back over, Harry's cup of cocoa in hand.

"Ah, thank you," Whale nodded.

"Ms. Blanchard?" Harry tilted his head.

"I'm meeting her here," Whale explained.

"Well," Newt grinned. "Don't let us keep you waiting."

Whale nodded goodbye, and Newt grinned at Harry. Harry grinned back.

The door jingled when Mary Margaret walked in. Harry watched as Whale stood and greeted her before they both sat down at the counter, where Ruby greeted them. Both Whale and Mary Margaret were very awkward looking, and Harry could only imagine how they felt. As they talked, he could see Whale not paying any attention to Mary Margaret.

Across the diner, Mary Margaret smiled as she spoke about her class. Whale shook his head, returning his gaze to her from where he was watching Ruby do her chores. "Um, where were we? Something about you wanting 15 kids?"

Mary Magraret shook her head, almost violently. "No!" she laughed. "Good Lord, no. I meant in my class, where I teach. You'll meet them tomorrow." She sighed as she watched Whale's gaze drift back over to Ruby as he nodded. "They're coming to the hospital as part of the Volunteer Outreach Program," she tried, and he turned to her, almost confused, but then full understanding lit his face.

"Oh, yes, that's right," Whale crookedly grinned, though he looked slightly pained. "It's a great program," he nodded. Mary Margaret brightened and started talking again, but when Whale turned his gaze back to Ruby once again, she sighed. Whale turned back to her after hearing it, and raised an eyebrow. "Am I boring you?" he asked.

Mary Margaret shrugged. "You're ogling Ruby, not talking to me, Victor. I don't mind though!" she told him, a small smile on her face.

"I seem to be overly focused on her, yes. I apologize," he winced and nodded in apology to her.

She shook her head with a smile. "Ruby? Can we get the check?" she called, and Ruby sauntered over, smirking as she nodded.

After she paid her tab off, Mary Margaret left the diner immediately, wanting to get out of there. Whale stayed talking to Ruby, leaning against the counter with a cocky grin. "And how are you today, Ms. Lucas?" he asked, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

"Good, Dr. Whale."

"Good, because I was wondering if you were Little Red Riding Hood."

"Um . . . " Ruby just looked at him in confusion.

"Because I'm the big bad wolf and I want to eat you."

Across the diner, it took everything in Newt's power to not choke and cough his cocoa all over his table. Ruby rolled her eyes before she doubled over in laughter. "I don't think so, Whale," she shook her head as she stood up, recovering her breath. "I think I would know if I was Little Red Riding Hood," she giggled, shaking her head in amusement.

Victor shrugged with an unapologetic grin. "Shot my shot. I figured I would try," he said as he paid his tab.

Ruby smirked. "Keep trying. Maybe one day you'll get a chance," she winked, and Whale walked out of the diner with a laugh.

As soon as he was gone, Newt gave into his desire to bury his face in his arms, shoulders shaking in amusement. Harry burst out laughing, and Ruby turned to face them, face bright red. "That was amazing!" the boy cackled.

Ruby shook her head as she hurried over to them, grabbed their empty cups while looking at the table, avoiding eye contact with the both of them. "No, that was embarrassing!"

Without another word, she raced behind the counter and into the kitchen, causing Newt and Harry to laugh even more.

***

A few days after the diner incident with Ruby and Whale, Harry, Emma, and Queenie were at the hospital setting up for the volunteer program along with Mary Margaret, Henry and the rest of his classmates. Emma was helping Mary Margaret and Queenie with some of the bigger decorations while Harry and Henry were helping his classmates with making posters and hanging them up as they finished.

Henry noticed that one patient's door hadn't been decorated, and he gasped quietly when he walked over and noticed the comatose man. He walked in quietly, cracking the door as he walked towards the man slowly, examining his face and arms as he got closer. His eyes landed on a scar on the man's face, and Henry's eyes widened, wanting to reach over to trace his finger over it. Just as soon as he was about to reach, Mary Margaret opened the door. He spun around immediately, catching her eyes.

She sighed, placing a bouquet of flowers in a vase by the man's bedside table, replacing the old ones. "Henry. We could really use your help with the decorations."

Henry hesitantly looked back towards the man as he stood by the door, having been led there by his teacher's hand. "Is Mr. Doe going to be okay, Miss Blanchard?"

Mary Margaret smiled softly. "His name's not John Doe, honey. That's just what they call people when they don't know who they are."

Henry looked up at him, his gaze far too wise for an almost 11-year-old. "Do you know who he is?"

Mary Margaret shook her head, looking over at the patient. "Nope. I just bring him flowers on my rounds."

Henry frowned at the answer, clearly not the one answer he wanted. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "He's been like this as long as I've been volunteering."

Henry titled his head. "Does he have any family or friends?"

"No," Mary Margaret shook her head. "No one's claimed him yet."

"So he's all alone," Henry sighed sadly.

Mary Margaret nodded sombrely. "Yeah. . . It's quite sad."

Henry looked at her one more time as he took the handle of the door. "Are you sure you don't know him?"

"Course I'm sure," she nodded. "Come on. You shouldn't be in here," she told him as they walked out. Henry glanced back, and couldn't help but settle his eyes on the scar on the man's face. The very same scar, in the very same place, where Prince Charming's landed.

***

Queenie's fingers, normally so sure and steady when working with decorations, faltered in their movements when a distant sound echoed in her head. "Queenie?" Emma frowned at her. "Is everything OK?"

"Yes," Queenie nodded faintly, slowing her movements as she focused on the sound. "I just thought I . . . "

Her words trailed off as the sound echoed louder, and she closed her eyes and inclined her head to focus on the sound she now recognized every time Emma raced Achilles across the reserve to take to the skies.

Two horses speeding past a carriage with a finely dressed blonde woman in a tiara . . .

Reins snapping, the sound cracking through the air . . .

A tall, brunette man in a cape and fine clothing yelling . . .

The other figure stopping and the man taking the chance to tug them off their horse, pulling off their hood . . .

A gasp as a woman with fair skin and black hair was unveiled . . .

The woman hitting the man's face with a rock and grabbing her horse and running off, vaulting over a tree log . . .

"You can't hide from me! Wherever you are, I'll find you!"

Queenie's eyes flew open, and she gasped almost inaudibly as she stepped away from the banner she was hanging, her fingers hovering over the fabric as she stared at a random spot on the wall, Emma watching in worry.

What the hell was that?

***

That same day, Emma and Henry were at his castle on the shoreline beach. He held his storybook in his hands as he flipped towards a certain page where it showed Prince Charming with a scar on his jaw.

Henry pointed at him with a satisfied smirk. "I found your father. It's Prince Charming."

Emma very nearly fell from her perch on the edge of the castle when she startled at the sudden words. "Henry - "

Henry interrupted her. "He's in the hospital, in a coma. See the scar?" When Emma nodded, he raised his eyebrows. "He has one, too."

Emma shrugged. "So? Lots of people have scars."

Henry scowled at her deeply. "In the same place? Don't you see what this means? The curse is keeping them apart with the coma. Now they're stuck without each other. We have to tell Miss Blanchard we found her Prince Charming!"

Emma held her hands up, signaling for Henry to stop. "Okay, listen kid. Telling someone their . . . soulmate is in a coma is probably not helpful. Not having a happy ending is painful enough, but giving someone unrealistic hope is far worse."

Henry pouted at her. "But what if I'm right? We know who they are. Now they have to know."

Emma sighed. "And how do you intend to make that happen?"

"By reminding him," Henry smiled brightly. "We have to get her to read their story to John Doe. Then, maybe, he'll remember who he is."

Emma took a deep breath as she contemplated his plea of persuasion. ". . .Okay."

Henry looked at her wide eyed. "Okay?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah, we'll do it. But we'll do it my way. Let me ask her."

***

Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows. "You want me to read to a coma patient?"

Emma shrugged. "Henry thinks it will help him remember who he was."

"And, who does he think he was?" Mary Margaret asked.

Emma winced and hesitated before answering. "Prince Charming."

Mary Margaret stared at her in shock. "And if I'm Snow White, he thinks. . . me . . . and him . . . "

Emma sighed, rubbing a hand over her braided hair. "He has a very active imagination, which is the point," she explained. "I can't talk him out of his beliefs, so we need to show him. Play along, do what he says and then maybe, just maybe . . . "

Mary Margaret interrupted before she could finish her sentence. "He'll see that fairy tales are just that. That there's no such thing as love at first sight or first kiss. He'll see reality."

Emma sighed and looked down into her cocoa. "Something like that," she nodded.

Mary Margaret shrugged. "Well . . . sadly, this plan is rather genius. We get him to the truth without hurting him."

Emma smirked. "I told him that we will all meet tomorrow for breakfast at Granny's. And you will give a full report."

Mary Margaret stood, clapping her hands. "Well, I suppose I'll get ready for my date. I guess I'll have to do all the talking."

***

Twenty minutes later, Mary Margaret was sitting at John Doe's bedside, Henry's storybook in her hand. "Look, I know this is odd, but I'm doing it for . . . a friend. So please, just bear with me?"

Silence was her only answer, making Mary Margaret feel like smacking herself. Why would she expect anything else from a man in a coma? She shook her head and opened Henry's storybook to the page Emma had marked, and she began to read. "As the Prince chased the thief on horseback, through the treacherous forest, his betrothed crossed her arms and pouted, wondering how many dreadful, boring minutes it would take until they could resume their journey again. The thief vaulted over a fallen . . . "

As she read, Mary Margaret lost all track of time. The lights in John Doe's room remained lit as the sky shifted from dusk to dusk. Yet she paid no attention, all of her attention focused on the story she told. " . . . They didn't need words to express what they felt in their hearts, for it was here, in the shadow of the troll bridge, that their love was born, where they knew, no matter how they were separated, they would always - "

A hand suddenly landed atop hers, and Mary Margaret gasped, her words dying in her throat. She followed the hand atop hers to its owner, but John Doe remained still, eyes shut. But there was no denying it . . . his hand had to have gotten from where it laid on the bed to where it now rested on hers.

And that only meant one thing.

***

"No, I'm sure he's waking up," Mary Margaret insisted as she led Whale into John Doe's room. "He . . . he grabbed my hand!"

Whale checked the wires leading to the man, and Mary Margaret fidgeted in place, anxious to hear Whale's diagnosis. The doctor surveyed all the monitors, befuddlement on his face. "Everything's steady," he said. "The same as it's always been." He looked at Mary Margaret in confusion. "What were you doing in here?"

"Oh," Mary Margaret gestured to the book next to the bed. "I was just . . . reading him a story."

Whale raised an eyebrow. "Well, perhaps you . . . dozed off. Perhaps you imagined it."

"No," Mary Margaret shook her head, eyes sharp. "I didn't imagine anything!"

Whale sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Miss Blanchard, I can only tell you what I see . . . which is nothing. Sometimes there are minor fluctuations in readings. Perhaps you heard the machine register something and misunderstood?" Mary Margaret swallowed, her doubt clear on her face as she looked down at John Doe, and Whale took pity on her. "Look, why don't you go home, get some rest? If anything changes, I'll call you. OK?"

Mary Margaret stared at the readings for another second as if willing them to reflect what she had witnessed, what she knew she had felt. Yet the readings remained the same, and she gave John Doe one last look before picking up Henry's storybook and departing.

As soon as she disappeared, Whale looked back at the readings and cleared his throat as he dialed on his phone. "Yes?"

"It's Dr. Whale," he said. "You told me to call you if there was ever a change in our John Doe. Something's happened."

"What?" Regina demanded.

"One of our volunteers said he grabbed her, and there was a slight fluctuation in brain activity."

"And who was this volunteer?"

Whale sighed. "Mary Margaret Blanchard."

***

"Thanks for making a run and grabbing more of my things," Emma sighed as she joined her family at their booth, the blonde looking much more comfortable in a shirt and trousers of Peverell violet and black. "How's Achilles doing?"

"Missing you every day," Newt chuckled and shifted on the booth so she could sit next to him. "And very invested."

Emma snorted as she pulled her plate close to her. "I can't believe he's such a gossip."

"Who's Achilles?" Henry asked curiously.

Emma paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. "Uh . . . "

"Uncle Newt is brilliant with animals," Harry answered for her with a grin. "Achilles is a horse who just . . . I dunno, latched onto Mum."

"I was in his spot in his paddock, apparently," Emma rolled her eyes. "Spoiled rotten, that one."

Queenie giggled. "You indulge his craving for sugar cubes, hon."

Emma blushed. "Shut up!" Henry and Harry were still laughing, however, and Emma leveled a stern look at Henry. "And you," she frowned, "where does your mother think you are?"

Henry grinned. "Playing Whac-A-Mole."

Harry laughed louder, and Emma scoffed. "And she bought that?"

"She wants to believe it, so she does," Henry shrugged as if it was that simple.

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. "Imagine that."

The bells to the diner rang, and Queenie held up her hand. "There's Miss Blanchard."

Henry perked up in excitement, and Emma leaned closer to him. "Hey, don't get your hopes up," she told him. "We're just getting started, OK?"

Henry nodded as Mary Margaret took a seat at their table. Emma looked at her expectantly, and Mary Margaret swallowed hard. "He woke up," she announced.

Newt choked on his coffee. "What?" Emma stared at Mary Margaret in disbelief, leaving Harry to fuss over his coughing uncle.

"I knew it!" Henry grinned victoriously.

"I mean, he didn't wake up wake up," Mary Margaret hastened to explain, "but he grabbed my hand!"

Henry looked like a wampus cat that caught their prey of choice. "He's remembering!"

"What did Dr. Whale say?" Queenie asked.

"That I imagined it," Mary Margaret scowled. "But I'm not crazy. I know it happened."

"We have to go back!" Henry insisted. "You have to read to him again!"

Mary Margaret pursed her lips, then she nodded and stood. "Let's go."

"Wait," Newt coughed, covering his mouth. "Wait . . . we're actually going back?"

"If I got through to him, if we made a connection," Mary Margaret began as Henry barreled out the door.

Emma huffed. "You don't believe - ?"

"That's he's Prince Charming?" Mary Margaret scoffed. "Of course not. Somehow, some way . . . I touched him."

Emma couldn't find a response to that, and Mary Margaret hurried out the door after Henry. "She's right, Emma," Queenie shrugged. "If this John Doe has been in a coma for so long, and this is what it took to help him wake up . . . "

Emma sighed and nodded. "I know," she muttered as she followed Mary Margaret.

***

The door to John Doe's room was blocked by the most people Queenie had ever seen around a patient in Storybrooke, and Henry grinned. "You're right!" he told Mary Margaret as he ran forward. "He's waking up!"

One of the figures turned at the sound, and Graham reached out to stop Henry in his tracks. "Henry, you should stay back!"

Henry blinked in confusion. "What's going on?" Mary Margaret asked as the rest of them stopped behind Henry. "Is it John Doe? Is he OK?"

Harry peered around Mary Margaret, and he blinked. "Why isn't he in bed?"

"What?" Queenie did a double take and tried to look as well.

Graham sighed and rubbed his forehead as he moved. "He's missing."

Emma's eyes widened when she saw the empty bed with Whale at its foot . . . and Regina with one hand on the bed, her dark eyes narrowed as she turned from the doctor to the new arrivals.

***

Be still my Snowing heart . . . and poor Newt, always with a drink in his hand at the wrong moment.

As you can see, we're already veering a little bit off-course. Miss Singer advocated for MadSwan (which I have very much loved since their first interaction, despite the. . .elements it contained XD ~ Miss Singer), I advocated for FrankenWolf . . . lo and behold, we both love what we brought to the table, and thankfully all of those seeds start getting planted in this book. I warn you, though . . . we still have sooooo much to throw at everyone. Us plus fanfiction equals us throwing lots of canon out the window, after all! ;)

"Snow Falls" continues next time!

~ Miss Moffat