The Cheshire Cat (A OUAT love story)

Chapter Sixteen-That Sly Little Creature

It was too late when Emma, Regina and Baelfire arrived at Skull Rock. It was too late when they hurried to stop Henry from giving his precious heart for the sake of a morbid cause. He was just about to push it into Pan's chest when Cheshire materialised in front of him, blue and black smoke dissipating now that the process of teleportation was complete. In her hands was a small box, one that the Saviour recognised instantly.

"Shire?" Peter asked confusedly, a hint of irritation in the nickname. "What on earth are you doing here?" The assassin turned to face him and unlocked the box to reveal a heart that glowed the exact same colour as Henry's.

"You don't need Henry to save magic," she told him quietly. "You need me." Realisation dawned on the boy king's face.

"No," he responded stubbornly, shaking his head in denial. "You're not going to sacrifice yourself for me." Cheshire listened for any comments from her feline forms, but there was nothing. It was weird, not hearing their voices anymore; but it was better this way. They'd never been more aligned.

"That's what love is all about, Peter," she replied softly, and her voice sounded like three speaking as one. "Sacrifices." His forest green eyes widened as she carefully picked up the heart and tossed its empty box aside. Then, before he could say a word, she pushed it right into his chest. Horror filled his eyes as he felt renewed power thrumming threw his veins. Horror filled his eyes as he saw Cheshire, the sassy assassin with the wicked grin, disappear in dark blue and jet black smoke.

It was over. The boy king fell to his knees with tears like diamonds pouring down his face and called out his queen's name, but it was over.

There was no response.

They ended up returning to Storybrooke on Killian's ship, the rescue party, Pan and his Lost Boys, Baelfire and Henry. The boy king refused to speak a word, instead spending most of his time at the prow of the ship, staring down into the deep sea listlessly. She was dead. Sacrificed herself so that both he and Henry could live. It shouldn't have worked, though; Henry was the truest believer in magic. Wasn't he?

It was about a month after they had returned to Storybrooke that something peculiar happened. The Lost Boys and Pan had settled into their new homes quite well, though it wasn't quite the same for them without their Queen. Emma found herself running over Cheshire's words in her head, unable to leave it alone:

"There's another truest believer?"

"Of sorts."

What did that reply mean? That there was a truest believer in something else other than magic?

"Remember this, Emma," the teenager crooned softly. "No one ever bothers to make things clear. Meaning, in cryptic language, that anything goes." The Saviour frowned and whipped round. No one was there. She could have sworn the assassin had been standing right behind her, and had spoken in her ear. She nearly missed it. Just nearly missed the shadow of a young teenager standing in the shifting shadows, watching her from the edge of the pavement. She nearly missed the girl who strutted into the light as if she owned the whole universe, the sassy assassin with the wicked grin.

"Hello, Emma."

The heart had not been hers. It had belonged to Anwir; while he had been alive, he had still believed that Cheshire would come back to him and love him again. Henry may have been the truest believer in magic, but Anwir was the truest believer in Cheshire's return. And no one ever bothered to make things clear, as the assassin had pointed out. Peter was delighted when he heard the news, and their reunion brought happy tears to Regina's eyes; not only because of the fact that she could finally start again with the shapeshifter (having hurt and hated her for defending Snow when Snow had told Cora about Regina's secret), but because of Cheshire's past; she had achieved the impossible and had found someone who really, truly loved her. And not just anyone, but the supposedly heartless Peter Pan himself. The teenage sorceress had only executed this plan without her lover because, if she had told Pan whose heart it was, he would have crushed it. And that would have destroyed the point.

That sly little creature had seen the flaw in the code and had twisted the whole thing inside out, knowing all along that no one ever specified what they really meant.