Notes: This fic is set in a Land Without Magic AU where the characters were born in the real world and lived lives like the rest of us. Also, Regina is the older sister and Zelena is a few years younger. This is a collaborative fic, switching POVs between Regina and Zelena as separated by a horizontal line. Regina's parts are written by adi-dion and Zelena's written by solarlunarxiii. Includes pieces of established Outlaw Queen in later chapters.
Trigger warnings: Rated M for mentions of alcoholism; grief.
This fic was inspired by a "Land Without Magic" AU roleplayed by the Tumblr group onceuponanask. Both authors are admins of the group, if you're interested, check us out!
Big thanks to SinginPrincess for proofreading this chapter!
Chapter 1: The Quiet
It had been half an hour since anyone spoke. Long, torturous thirty minutes of total silence, in which the ticking of the clock never sounded so loud before.
Dr. Hopper was patient, even more than Regina could hope for, and perhaps she should have appreciated it, but it only irked her instead.
He's only doing his job, she tried to reason with herself.
"Would you like something to drink?" his sickeningly calm tone broke the silence.
She didn't reply, though. Completely ignoring the man's question and making no sign to even acknowledge having another soul in the room with her.
Thankfully, he didn't bother to repeat the question. With a frustrated sigh, he slowly rose from his seat on the opposite couch and took his leave, closing the door behind him on his way out.
Regina breathed a sigh of relief, one she hadn't realized she was holding.
She hated it. She hated being stuck inside these four walls, and this was only the first week. Possibly the first one of many more to come.
She wasn't exactly the most cooperative of patients, Regina was very much aware of this fact, but she was also certain, beyond any doubt, that it was a waste of time.
Her boss, however, felt otherwise and banned her from handling any major calls and operations until she got the hospital psychiatrist's approval to be back on track. All because of one incident that she was currently trying (and miserably failing) to put behind her.
Sinking back into the couch, Regina covered her growing bump with her palm and simply tried to savor this rare moment of peace with her therapist out of sight.
That moment didn't last as long as she hoped. Her eyes quickly fell on a small journal that was left unattended on the desk in front of her, one which must be filled with her therapist's notes. Impulsive as Regina was, the woman pushed herself off the couch and made a quick move to get a hold of the leathered book.
Pages of handwritten notes all hit her at once, it was too much to take in. She hasn't spoken a word to the therapist, absolutely refused to share any further details about the case which sent her into his office. How the hell did he write that much during his unfruitful efforts to make her talk?
Her head was spinning as her mind raced in a massive speed, trying to make sense of the words and sentences that popped above the others: Possible strong sense of denial. Closed-off. Patient has no grasp of the severity of the situation...
God. It made her sound like a complete lunatic. A tear ran down Regina's cheek as her eyes kept scanning the damn pages of words that tried to analyze her.
The cracking sound of the door startled her and Regina quickly turned to face the therapist, who seemed slightly too satisfied at her decision to finally acknowledge his presence.
Looking straight into his eyes, Regina's voice was filled with rage when she reached a breaking point, her eyes showing nothing but anger as realization dawned on her.
"You wanted me to see this, didn't you?"
"Regina—"
"I've told you before, I am not a fucking psycho!" She snapped.
Dr. Hopper took a few steps in her direction, the sound of his shoes squeaking on the tiled floor nearly raised above his calm whisper. "I am only here to do my job," he simply offered in reply.
"And I have to do mine!" Regina shot back. "Stop trying to psychoanalyze me, and let me go back out there!"
"You know I cannot do that. Not yet."
She huffed her frustration at his words and started pacing around the table before sinking back into the couch, closing her eyes in an attempt to settle her nerves. Stress is not good for your baby, Regina.
"Look," he muttered, taking his place in front of her again. "I am not the enemy, Regina. Right now, I believe your worst enemy is yourself."
She felt trapped. As if the walls began to close in on her and breathing was no longer an easy task to follow.
"You cannot shut it off forever," Dr. Hopper continued. "We both know what happened. I can't even begin to imagine how hard it is on you, but the sooner you're willing to accept my help and open up, the sooner we can get these sessions over with."
Regina fell quiet at this. She took deep breaths and a few moments to herself before the inevitable truth hit her.
He was right, there was no going around the subject any longer. If she wanted a chance to go back to work anytime soon, she had to start talking whether she liked it or not.
"Tell me about what happened, Regina," Dr. Hopper ventured and finally voiced aloud.
"You know what happened."
"And how does it make you feel?"
She laughed at the absurdity of that; slamming her hand against the couch with a loud thud, Regina gave the man a glare.
"I've been a doctor for six years and I have never lost a soul before."
"That's not entirely true though, is it?"
If Dr. Hopper was trying to make her lose her mind, Regina thought he was doing a pretty good job so far.
"I have had patients die before, but I've never lost one. Not like this." She struggled to keep her voice and emotions at bay. "How do you think it makes me feel?"
The man was not fazed by her outburst, he didn't even seem surprised at her sudden show of anger, but he lowered his head in an attempt to avoid her gaze before he reached for his notebook.
Regina didn't even bother to consider her next words.
"If you write down that I have anger management issues, I swear—"
That seemed to startle him as her therapist dropped the book back on the table, offering an apologetic glance which was followed by a quiet murmur of alright in reply.
Another loaded silence filled the room but at the same time, there was something soothing about it. In a span of minutes, Regina broke the walls she tried so hard to build around her since the incident. It was almost liberating to let it out and reveal how she truly felt, without having to prove to anyone she was doing fine. Because the truth was— she wasn't.
She exhaled deeply, trying to regain composure and put all anger aside. If she was being honest with herself, therapy was the best idea her boss could have suggested. This whole experience took a great toll on her, one Regina would have to learn to live with and put behind her. And right now, she had no idea how to do that.
"I'm sorry," she breathed out, finding a bit of comfort at the feeling of her growing baby moving inside her. Hormones, she thought. She could always blame the hormones.
"No harm done," was all he replied.
In an attempt to lighten the mood a few moments later, Dr. Hopper placed a cup of tea in front of her. "Peace offer?"
Regina cracked a small smile. "Thank you."
She reached for the mug when he brought them back to the subject. "Have you told anyone outside the hospital?" he asked. "Your husband...?"
"Fiancé," she corrected, taking a sip of her hot drink. "Robin knows what happened, but… no one else does. Not even my sister."
"Your sister? Are you two close?"
"Very," she nodded.
"Why haven't you told her?"
"It's—it's been... hectic, lately." Her voice wavered and Regina dropped her gaze, swallowing as she stumbled over her words. It wasn't a complete lie, but it was much more than that.
As it seemed, avoidance wasn't her best way out this time. The therapist cleared his throat, clearly unconvinced. He didn't have to say a word for her to know he was waiting to hear what the real issue was.
Regina stared at the cup in her hands for a long moment, trying for the first time to really answer the question she's been avoiding.
"She's my little sister," she said absentmindedly. "I can't disappoint her. Not again…"
Her voice was heavy with emotions as Regina realized where the answer lead her. It's been a long time since she spoke about the darkest time in her past. She wasn't ready to relive it again.
Dr. Hopper's patience proved itself once again, as he must have noticed the anxiety seeping in and didn't push for any details. With ragged breaths, Regina placed her cup on the table before she finally met his eyes, politely pleading to excuse herself in favor of a lunch date with her sister.
Regina had never felt more relieved than the moment she felt the chilly winter wind engulfing her.
It had been two whole glorious minutes since somebody didn't say something. And by say something, it was more that the precious silence of the room was broken by somebody snorting their snot or coughing up some black ash from the cigarette ashtray in their throats. Zelena had no idea how she'd even gotten to this place, as if her broken memory wasn't bad enough, she had no clue what must have pushed her over the edge so much that she'd come crawling here to the Storybrooke rec-center.
Everybody in the room was sitting in a polite circle. One by one they were drooling on and on about their dynamic lives, and Zelena was sitting with her arms crossed listening to every single one of them and fall asleep through all of it.
Then, so startling it was like a man running in with a gun, a man next to Zelena turned to her and said softly, "…Would you like to share next, newbie?"
Crap, Zelena thought to herself, did she really have to? She could say she wanted to pass, but everybody was staring at her now like she had just stood up on her chair and started making a speech.
Thinking quickly, she just said the first, obvious words that came to her mind.
"…Hi, I'm Zelena, and I'm an alcoholic."
She said it, though not fully admitting to it.
"Hi, Zelena," they said back.
This was embarrassing. Zelena couldn't believe, after everything she'd accomplished, after all the high marks and awards she had won in school and beyond, here she was—in a community center, in a dimly lit room, surrounded by members of Alcoholics Anonymous. This was a new low.
But, nevertheless, here she was. And everybody in the room was sitting, calmly, staring at her, waiting for her to say something. This was not something she was prepared for.
"Um…" she croaked, clearing her throat, "Yeah, so…never been to one of these before. Truth be told, I'm…not really sure why I came. To be honest, I'm mildly surprised Storybrooke even has enough people to hold one of these."
Everyone in the room was keeping the exact same look on their face. Zelena realized she was rambling, which was likely a nervous thing, in part due to the situation but mostly because she just really really needed a drink.
"—Anyway," Zelena mumbled, changing subjects, "This is all pretty strange to me. If you had told me when I graduated high school at the top of my class that I'd be sitting here, a starving, poor, drunken waste of an aspiring model, I'd probably just laugh at you. But that's my life. Doesn't get any better than that."
Some of the faces in the room changed to a more serious tone, whilst staring at Zelena with curious eyes. Others were falling asleep. But that just made Zelena more comfortable talking.
She kept going, "Truth be told, I don't know where my life got off track. Probably the day I was stupid enough to think I could ever be pretty enough to be a model. I should have just left those old Vogue magazines under my pillow where they belonged. But noo, I had to chase them all the way to New York City, with 250 dollars and a head full of dreams."
Zelena started distancing herself from what she was saying. In her mind, she fixated on one single spot on the wall and just slipped into a lingering sadness that consumed her. "But…now it's too late. Or…at least it feels like it. I mean, all I want to do is drink. My manager never has any jobs for me. Not like he even tries. I'd fire him but I can't even afford him as it is.
"..and then my boss, who's also my landlord, who's also the only reason I'm not homeless, is constantly calling me to remind him about meetings and send rude emails in his stead, and I still—all I want to do is drink. Drink, drink, drink. I'm surprised there's even any water left in my bloodstream from all the vodka-cranberries I've chugged."
She was rambling, and she knew it, but Zelena was at the point where she could hardly acknowledge what was coming out of her own mouth anymore. Going off into her own personal zone, Zelena just decided to blank out all the other people in the room and pretend she was talking to a bathroom mirror. She was past the point of caring what these people thought about her. She was probably never going to see any of them again, anyway.
"There's also…my sister," Zelena said more quietly, looking down at her heeled shoes. "She…well, she's amazing, actually. The perfect older sister. Our mother always saw the best in her, and when she went off to medical school it was like she could do no wrong. Never mind me doing my best and getting all the good grades to try and impress her, oh no, it was always 'why can't you act more like your sister, Zelena' and 'you can do more good in the world than being a model, Zelena'. But you know, I have dreams too! And just because Regina is all perfect and amazing, I—"
DING.
A little buzzer went off, which as they said at the beginning of the meeting, meant that your time was up. She had only enough time to wrap up the thought she had, and then she had to be quiet.
But that wasn't what Zelena was going to do.
"Right," she said tapping both her knees with her hands, "Well, I know you're supposed to stay a little bit after these meetings for coffee and small talk, but I really don't want anyone to know that I'm here, and I really don't want to sit in this chair any longer because I'm not sure why I came in the first place."
A man sitting next to Zelena with a bald held holding his black beanie interrupted in a low voice, "Uhh, sister, you can finish what you were saying, the beep don't really mean—"
"—It's fine, it's fine," Zelena tried to say as politely as she could, while also getting up out of her seat and getting her purse together. She realized she was making a scene, but she couldn't help it. "No, I'm just going to leave."
Another face in the circle spoke up, "Please stay, we go out to coffee afterwards, and—"
"—No thanks", Zelena interjected, now halfway out the door, "No, sorry, just pretend I wasn't here. If any of you want to hang out I'll be at Ella's bar drinking myself into a stupor. Bye"
Without looking back, Zelena continued walking out the double doors and into the cold Storybrooke winter, not looking back. She'd rather dunk her head into a pot of molasses than try and make that situation any less awkward than it already was. She wasn't even sure why she went in the first place.
Though the feeling of embarrassment was nothing new to Zelena, this time she felt particularly horrible. She'd just rambled to a group of strangers about things she'd never even admitted to herself. If it hadn't been her poor choice to go to the meeting she'd almost feel emotionally violated, like someone had read her diary. But even still, Zelena was able to shake off the annoyingness of her feelings and shove them back into the closet of her mind where they belonged.
Then, her purse started to vibrate, twice. One was her personal phone, which was a flip phone, and the other was an expensive top of the line Galaxy that was her work phone—supplied and paid for by her boss, Mr. Gold. As expected, both of them were the exact same message, from the exact same person. Swiping her smart phone, she read the message:
"Ms. Mills, I hope you are enjoying your day off. In your time, please E-Mail the diner about their rent owed once more, before business hours are over.
Warm regards, GOLD."
Zelena just rolled her eyes, completely un-phased by texts like this on her day off. She made it a small note to send the email whenever she got around to it. Hopefully in time enough for Gold not to hire an assassin to murder her first for her incompetence.
Pulling out her small, cheap, flip-phone, Zelena flung it open to close the duplicate message and saw the wallpaper of her and her sister, Regina, hugging and taking a selfie from last Christmas. She smiled, despite just previously ranting about her big sister to a group of strangers. Part of her felt guilty, because she didn't think all of the inner turmoil about Regina would come out of her so suddenly, and almost wished she hadn't said anything. But hindsight was 20-20.
To make her guilt even worse, Zelena was due for a lunch date with her sister they'd been planning for a couple days. She didn't want to think any more about all the things she'd just said, so she just shook it off and continued walking. And that would be it, because she never wanted to bring up any of those horribly selfish feelings ever again.