They go so long without talking that a little part of Regina hopes they've forgotten how. Not that they ever talked, exactly. They threatened and mocked and offered platitudes of good or increasingly murderous intent, but talking in the way that normal people talk has never been something they've known.
When Emma seeks her out, book in hand, and twenty new questions, it's half a year too late. The time for these questions was when the curse broke, but idiot heroes who throw themselves in front of portals can't be relied on to do anything in a timely fashion.
Why didn't you tell me? Emma asks, and the sincerity makes Regina want to throw up, right there on the pier. Hasn't anyone else heard the real story?
No, Regina admits. But then nobody ever really cared enough to ask. They heard Snow's version, and that was enough.
It's not enough for me, Emma insists. The return of magic has made Henry's book a living thing, the stories telling themselves at last, filling in the blanks left out by heartless, objective observers.
No, Regina thinks, watching blonde hair get ruffled by the sea breeze. Of course her story is not enough for the Savior.
Three hours later, Henry is knocking on the front door. That's all Regina registers as she throws it open, and Emma's hand on his shoulder is an irrelevance when he shrugs it off to hug his mother.
I told Henry the story, too, Emma confesses, and Regina barely hears it over the pounding of her heart at Henry's arms wrapped around her waist. I figured he could handle it.
Regina wants to tell her she's wrong, that a mind so young and impressionable needs to be shielded from trauma, because if not you end up with someone else like Regina, and if the world can agree on one thing, it's that nobody wants that.
Half the time is better than none, and Regina learns not to resent Emma as much as she used to, because every genuine smile she gets from Henry makes the sacrifices worth it.
Emma brings him and collects him every time, because Regina knows she isn't welcome anywhere that Snow and Charming call home. But then Emma comes over when Henry has school and there's no reason to be there, and Regina finds herself picking up the phone to extend unnecessary invitations, hidden under chatter about school or nutrition.
Have you ever thought about the end of your story? Emma asks one day. In the new book, it ends with... when he says 'then love again'. Do you think you can?
Sometimes, it really is just a story, Regina cautions. And who here could ever love the Evil Queen? Honestly, so long as I have Henry, all of that doesn't matter.
I don't think you should give up so easily, Emma insists, like someone who might be considered a friend. The frown makes her look more like an interested party, though.
Regina tips her head back, and when she laughs, it's not as hollow as it used to be.
Emma marches in, the sun still struggling above the horizon, and Regina is staring dully into her first cup of coffee. She hasn't even dressed yet, but somewhere along the line, they've stopped caring about things like invitations and appropriate hours. It isn't even the first time Emma's encountered Regina in nothing but her robe.
Look, Emma commands, flipping the pages open to the story of the Evil Queen, moving pictures shifting slowly in the corners of each page. The last picture features a yellow splash above a jacket of red, and the mocking remark Regina had dies in her throat.
Why are you in my story? Regina asks.
Emma rolls her eyes, and pulls Regina gently by the wrists until they're facing each other, faces mere inches apart.
Why do you think? Emma asks in return, before cupping Regina's face with her hands, and placing a kiss so sweet on her lips that Regina thinks she must be dreaming.
In that moment, Regina finally sees it. Sees the symmetry of their lives, of the ways that they've suffered and been manipulated, in the ways they trust no one and yet have come to trust each other.
Regina pulls Emma closer, and this time the kiss can't exactly be described as sweet.
We should get rid of the book, Emma says when she can bear to pull away, breathless and grinning like a fool. Otherwise I'm going to know every mean thought you have about me.
Regina picks up the book and drops it into the trash can with a flourish.
Happy now? She asks.
You know what? Emma says, still grinning, still impossibly beautiful in a way that makes it insane for Regina to not have noticed before today. I think I just might be.