Amy's head was killing her.

And there was a sound, like someone was hitting something, that made her want to commit murder.

She tried to open her eyes, but her headache was stronger than her, forcing her to keep them closed. She brought her hands to her head, massaging her temples.

What the hell happened, she thought. All she remembered was that she and Emma were on the road back to Boston when suddenly there was a wolf in the road and-

Emma.

She forced her eyes open, squinting against the light coming from the windows. It took her a couple of seconds to adjust to the sudden brightness and when her eyes finally didn't feel like fire, she scanned her surroundings.

She was in a jail cell. Emma was sleeping, her head braced against Amy's shoulder. There was someone on the cell next to them, a man, whistling a familiar tune.

She followed them through the forest, her magic making it easier for her to find them.

She didn't know why Rumple thought it a good idea to watch them; they weren't important, they were simply Snow White's friends. Surely he didn't consider them a threat.

Nonetheless she did as she was told, lest he threw one of his tantrums, and she kept an eye on them for the next couple of weeks.

Nothing happened, though. They simply went to work and came back, all the while whistling that same, old tune.

"Hey, Amy," Emma's concerned voice broke through the memory, bringing her back. "Are you okay?"

Why does this keep happening and why is Emma the only one able to bring her back?

She nodded, too tired to speak.

She looked around. Apart from the one whistling on the next cell, there was another man fixing a cabinet, making that annoying sound.

She turned around slightly, catching the gaze of the person -was that Grumpy?- whistling. "What are you looking at, sister?"

Good to see he hadn't changed.

"Hey, Leroy, manners! We have guests." said the older man and his accented voice paired with the warmth of the memories it evoked in her mind was enough for her to identify him.

Gepetto...

A smile found its way on her lips, the terrible headache making space for memories of the man in front of her.

While she didn't particularly like his son, Gepetto was one of the few people from before that was actually nice to her despite her reputation.

"So..."he sounded unsure as he looked between the two women. "You're Henry's mother?"

Emma sighed, as she stood up, "I am, yeah."

Gepetto -or Marco, as the tag said- looked at Amy curiously.

"I'm her best friend."

"Ah," was his response.

Emma brought a hand to her head, no doubt having the same killer headache as Amy.

"How lovely for him to have you back in his life," he said to her friend.

"Actually, I was just dropping him off."

Grumpy, well, Leroy, laughed, "Don't blame ya. They're all brats; who needs them?"

Marco did not like that response and just by looking at his face Amy got the feeling a sad backstory was coming up.

"Well, I'd give anything for one," he said.

Here we go.

"My wife and I...We tried for many years, but he was not meant to be."

"Who the hell are you," she asked the man standing at her front door. He looked familiar, but she didn't have the time nor the patience to sort through her memories in search of a name.

She had to find him and she had to find out what the hell went wrong tonight. She owed Emma at least that.

The man did not respond. Instead, he looked at her with a knowing glint in his eyes that Amy did not like at all.

"Alright, man, I don't care what you're selling but I'm not interested. Now get the hell out."

She was about to close the door but his words made her stop.

"I'm not surprised you don't remember me. We met for the first time almost 20 years ago. It's been so long...It feels like another life."

The way he said it, how he looked at her, like he knew her darkest secrets... It didn't just feel like another life. It was.

He knew her from the Enchanted Forest.

But who-.

No. It can't be. Why now?

"Pinocchio?"

"Lady, I haven't seen him since I dropped him off at his house and," she looked pointedly at the cell, "I have a pretty good alibi."

Amy was brought back once more by her friend's voice. She blinked a few times, almost as if to get rid of the remains of the memory. She looked around and noticed that they were joined by the sheriff and Regina, and the latter did not look happy.

The next hour was a bit of a blur for Amy. The four of them went from the station back to Regina's house for clues as to where the little troublemaker may be. It was when Emma asked who Mary Margaret Blanchard was that Amy started paying attention again.

Emma must've remembered the name though, as she turned towards her friend, a questioning look on her eyes.

Regina beat her to it, though. "Henry's teacher," she said, her eyes meeting Amy's before diverting them back to the computer in front of them, as if it personally wronged her.

So Amy was right in guessing that Mary Margaret is, indeed, Snow White.

She shouldn't laugh. She really shouldn't. She wasn't even sure why she wanted to. It's just this situation was so ridiculous that Amy could not really help the small laugh that escaped her.

"His teacher, huh," she said to no one in particular but knowing it'll probably piss her off.

Regina's gaze snapped back to hers, a silent plea, or threat, only Amy knew what really meant.

Not the time.

Amy rolled her eyes, another laugh escaping her.

Regina would have to try way harder than that if she wanted to make her feel scared.

"Alright," said Emma. "Why don't we go speak with this Mary Margaret?"

"I have to go back to the station, but call me if you need anything," said Graham.

Honestly, Amy had forgotten he was even there.

Then an idea popped into her mind.

"Hey, what if we ask his therapist? Archie? He might know something."

Regina simply shrugged, already halfway out the room and Emma nodded. "Okay, you go to Archie and we'll go to his teacher," she said and then left.

Amy would've taken offense at that if her friend wasn't searching for her newfound son.

"Do you need a ride," Graham asked her.

Logically, Amy knew he meant if she needed a car ride. However, the shock of seeing Regina after so many years and the feelings that brought back, well...

Amy thought of a completely different ride.

She nodded, banishing those thoughts and the images they evoked.

She needed to concentrate.

The ride to Archie's office was a quiet one, broken only by the usual small talk two people who barely know each other have.

It was as they drove through Main Street that her eyes caught a familiar figure opening a store and-

She closed her eyes and counted to ten-fuck it, twenty-taking deep breaths after each number. She created an image in her head, one of a small, white house next to the beach and concentrated on that.

She did not want to go on a trip down memory lane right now, especially if the memories were of him.

For the first time in twenty eight years, she felt rage. Pure, unfiltered rage. And she was scared. Scared of what she might do, what she might say, if she faced him right now.

So she turned away from the window, focused on the image of the house on the beach, and prayed to whatever higher being was listening that she would not end up being accused of murder.

Graham seemed completely oblivious to her internal turmoil as he slowed the car in front of what she assumed was Archie's office.

They weren't that far from where she'd seen him. That made her anxious.

"Alright," he said. "That's his office. If he's not there, he's probably at Granny's, across the street, or Marco's shop," he pointed to a woodshop up the street.

"Thanks," she said simply and exited the car.

That's when she felt someone watching her.

She didn't have to turn to know who it was. But she turned anyway. And after all these years, after everything she'd learned and done, her eyes caught those of her biggest enemy.

And her oldest friend.