So there's this really really really awesome photoset on tumblr that's really really really awesome. And it inspired this fic. So go drool over it. I think it was originally posted by 3lzyx[dot]tumblr[dot]com so you should be able to find it there.

I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters.

Nor did I make those awesome gifs.

Regina's mind felt fuzzy. She could sense ambient light through her eyelids, feel the soft covers on her bare skin as she realized she was naked. She'd never felt so… comfortable. Her hair splayed across the pillow, her legs entangled in the sheets, she felt utterly content. Her face split into a wide grin, her eyes still closed, as she sleepily stretched, rolling over and entangling herself further.

Then the insecurities, the crushing sadness came rushing back as she felt the other side of the bed. There was a dent in the pillow where someone had rested their head. But the sheets were cold.

I don't know why I felt happy for a moment. I don't get to be happy. No matter which world, something has doomed me to an accursed half-life of debilitating loneliness. I don't deserve happiness. I don't deserve love. Not the love of a parent, not the love of a spouse, not even the love of a child. Even if I somehow miraculously get one glimmer of affection I manage to screw it up so, so badly. Even the people I try to help only end up getting hurt because I ruin everything I touch. I really am evil. I don't deserve happiness. I'm just some bitter, screwed-up witch who hurts everyone I care about so no one cares about me. I have nothing, nothing, but my fucking plants.

She didn't know who had been there last night. It didn't matter, really. Even if she hadn't ripped his heart out yet she was probably going to. Maybe she should just end it. Another fire at the courthouse, one Emma wouldn't be there to save her from this time. A crash on that stretch of road on the way out of town, wouldn't be the first one. A chance encounter with a wolf in the woods. Or maybe something as simple as falling out of the top branches of the apple tree. Emma could have Henry. They could have each other. He liked her better anyway.

She groaned and began to sit up. She didn't know why she entertained these thoughts every morning; she would never act upon them. That was her curse, she supposed. To be stuck in this loveless life. She almost smirked as a thought struck her. I wonder what the citizens of Storybrooke would think if they knew their fearless leader wanted to die. If they knew her nightly ritual of digging into her skin until the pain eclipsed the emptiness inside, or until she got so lightheaded she passed out. Unless she'd found a warm body to try to fill the void. I wonder what they would think if they could see the scars. I wonder what they would think if they knew that some mornings Madame Mayor was disappointed when she woke up still alive.

I don't blame them for hating me, I really don't. I hate me too.

She rolled over, pulled herself up, and sleepily, slowly, finally opened her eyes.

"Good mornin'"

Her heart skipped a beat.

There she was.

The mom Henry wanted.

The strongest, the bravest, the fairest of them all.

The embodiment of good.

The Hope.

Emma.

Hardly clothed.

The bleariness in her eyes faded away quickly. Her brow furrowed. She squinted, trying to make it make sense. It didn't make sense. But there she stood, Sherriff Swan, in nothing but a tank top and boyshorts. Leaning against the doorway. Biting her lip as she sheet succumbed to gravity.

The apparition stepped forward. It had to be an apparition. She had to be an apparition. I'm the Evil Queen, god dammit! I don't get a happy ending!

She stopped at the foot of the bed. Regina simply stared, dumbfounded. Her brain was incapable of conscious thought as it tried to process whatever the fuck was going on.

Then she noticed it. That little smirk. The same little smirk that had graced the lips of the woman before her right before she leaned in for that life-changing kiss. That same smirk she'd seen right before being shoved back onto the bed and climbed on top of. That same smirk on those same lips that had been all over her-

Oh god.

Oh Emma.

It all came back to her in one frightening blow that pushed her back down onto the bed. It knocked her flat on her back, that night. That life-changing, mind-altering night. That curse-breaking night.

She could do nothing but gape at the ceiling.

She would swear she could still feel the afterglow.

"Hey, you okay? I made pancakes."