"Do you want to tell her? Or shall I?"
Zelena's words, her tauntingly melodic brogue, rung in Regina's ears and had been torturing her for days. They echoed off of the walls of her empty home, thundered from deep within her empty bed, and screeched and screamed like white hot fire every time her sister's name was mentioned.
Returning to Storybrooke was only moderately comforting. Yes, she was back home, with her son, and with Robin and Roland. The coldness of New York, and the sting of heartbreak and unshed tears could be briefly forgotten amidst daily tasks like preparing supper, or hurling fireballs at the town's latest and greatest threats. But there was a near constant ache deep in her soul every time she looked at him - because she could imagine a baby with his dimples and his steely blue eyes. She would hold his hand and imagine five small, perfect fingers wrapping around a single digit, his skin rough against hers. Hers?
Regina winced, having been unprepared to imagine any gender in particular. She swallowed against the rapidly rising nausea and set her knife down on the cutting board, abandoning her peppers and her work. A girl. It would be a girl, too, wouldn't it? Because she knew life to be cruel, fate brutal and punishing. She closed her eyes tightly and turned away from the counter, leaning her elbows onto the kitchen island and sinking down, burying her face in her hands. She gritted her teeth in anguish, trying to push the image of her true love holding the baby that wasn't hers, could never be hers — Zelena's baby. Her frustration and sorrow came out in a deep groan as she lifted herself up again, palms splaying against the crisp white marble and gripping the edges of the counter top as if that were the only thing holding her to this earth. Letting out a sigh and blinking away tears she refused to let fall, Regina silently cursed her sister — again — this time, for ruining even the simple joy of making lasagna.
The morning they had all arrived back in Storybrooke (and oh, how Regina wished she could have been a passenger in that stupid yellow bug that morning instead of driving the minivan with Zelena riding shotgun and Robin and Roland in the middle seats. For all the times she poked at Emma for her terrible taste in cars, or complained that a Queen should never have to be reduced to sitting with legs twisted for lack of space, she would have given anything to enjoy the comfort of awkward conversation with the Saivor over the side glances to Zelena's middle she couldn't seem to avoid), Regina had Zelena confined to the basement of the hospital, to be watched over by Nurse Ratchet, and given care by Doctor Whale. It was the safest place she could think of for everyone involved. The enchanted cuff to block Zelena's magic was the equivalent of a fourth deadbolt on panic room door. But every precaution needed to be taken.
"The perfect temporary home," Regina promised with a smile, quickly turning her face away, content to lock the door before her sister could utter another word. As proficient as she was at masking any underlying emotion, this particular scenario was trying her. The cracks in her armor were ever present in her thoughts.
"This home is temporary. But me being in your life is not," Zelena chided with a sickening grin.
"Because this…" she sang in false sweetness, her hands smoothing over her middle, tugging over her blouse just enough to reveal a soft curve, "…means forever," she whispered, her eyes going wide and wild as she giggled triumphantly.
Regina nearly faltered. She forced her eyes away from the evidence of Zelena's pregnancy and fixed on her face, rage rising in her chest. Two could play at that game. She'd had her share of wild and crazed in the height of her days as the Evil Queen.
"You want to talk truth? Tell me. What's going to make you feel safe at night once that baby's born?" she asked, gritting her teeth at having to speak it out loud. The baby. Once the baby is born. It felt as though the very act of the words passing over her lips was breathing life into this invisible third party. Her lip twitched into a snarl and her eyes narrowed as she steeled herself for the hundredth time that day.
"The fact that if you kill me, Robin will always know that you murdered the mother of his child," Zelena snapped back, her teeth glittering in her smile like a wolf taunting its prey.
"You underestimate me, Zelena," Regina replied, her brow arching upwards, a calm smile spreading over her features. "Enjoy your new home."
Stepping out of the cell, she closed the door and bolted it, then stood back, arms lifting high as she cast an enchantment over the doorway. She was vaguely aware of another presence in the hall, and turned to acknowledge the silent man mopping the floors. She could hardly see his face beneath long, inky black hair, but she offered a nod and an insincere smile before taking off down the hall, the clip-clop of her heels failing to drown out the echo of her own last words to Zelena.
Rounding the corner, she punched in the code to the coded door and flung it open, her hands shaking and lips trembling. Her lungs burned as she struggled to gulp down air, and she stopped just short of the first step in the locked stairwell, the door slamming shut behind her. She stumbled to the side, backing herself up against the cold concrete wall. "You underestimate me, Zelena." It was an empty threat. And a weak one, at that. There was nothing she could do. She was on a new path now — one that she couldn't turn away from. Robin had fallen in love with her because he saw more to her than her monicker. He saw potential for good.
Her hands spread away from her sides, palms opening against the cold, rough walls as her head tilted back, eyes slipping closed. A slow exhale passed through pursed lips as she tried to steady and center herself. But that familiar ache returned. Regina's deep brown eyes opened, glassy with tears. Her hand moved to her chest, whimpering as the physical pain of heartbreak settled deep within. Her thoughts went to Robin — his bright, smiling eyes and lopsided grin. The warmth of his arms around her, his hand on her hip. His palms at her waist, lifting her up. A white tank against a crimson blouse, deep in her vault, protected, safe. Hours upon hours of feeling his love.
Tears were flowing freely now, rolling down Regina's cheeks. The hand at her chest slowly began to descend. She bit her lip as her palm met with her own abdomen — barren, empty. She would never carry his child. She pressed her palm inward until it hurt, until she tasted copper. Curling in on herself, Regina leaned into the wall and slowly sunk down to the floor. She was a Queen — barren, and empty, and broken.
There had been a moment, after many, many hours of painful memories, her mind trying to sort through the hell of possible futures with Zelena in Robin's life and hers, where she'd thought she'd reached a solution. In her eagerness to rid herself of the human obstacle to her happiness that was her sister, Regina's devised plan was incomplete at best. She rounded up the Author, and forcefully took blood from Maleficent's daughter, Lily, to power the ink with the darkness required for the spells to work. With Henry's book tucked safely under her arm, she and Isaac paid a visit to Zelena's cell. They would erase her sister from the story, from their lives, entirely. For a brief moment, it seemed like a perfect answer to a perfectly horrible problem.
Ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach at the fact that she had deliberately avoided Robin all day in order to carry out her motives, Regina handed the book and the vile to Isaac and explained exactly what this plan entailed to an increasingly terrified Zelena. Justification was easy - if no one had any memory of Zelena, erasing her wouldn't really hurt anyone. And not long ago, it had been Zelena's plan to erase Regina from history, bringing everyone back in time to prevent her birth. Perfect. Perfect plan. She hoped this repetition would convince her conscience, and quickly.
"I never knew our mother. But I imagine I'm getting to know her right now," Zelena said softly, failing to hide the fear in her eyes, her own brokenness shining through. "You are exactly like her." she spat.
It wasn't difficult to conjure memories of her mother. Regina's eyes moved over her sister's frame where she stood, flooded with the memory of every horror she ever endured under her mother's care. Taking a breath in, sharper and more audible than she intended, Regina remembered the day she had taken the potion which robbed her of her ability to bear children. She tossed the goblet up to her lips and drank the sickly sweet liquid with defiance in her eyes, convinced she had thwarted another of Cora's plots to masterfully manipulate every life around her. It had burned going down. Even now, Regina could feel it — slinking down her throat, circling in her stomach, then oozing out and settling in her womb. It was indescribable. Like breathing in burning smoke, only the smoke is the most vile of poisons, and it burns like a hot knife, cutting into and ravaging her.
Even then, she never showed the pain she was in. A quiet, stifled whimper as she sunk down onto the couch was all. Blinking, Regina was pulled from her thoughts and back into the cell, back in front of Zelena, in front of a life that would never fully be hers.
"So…what do you want me to do? Isaac asked with more than a little annoyance in his voice.
"Nothing," Regina resigned, her features softening. "You didn't know our mother. But I did. And we both suffered. Our worst enemy isn't her. Or each other. It's ourselves," she spoke with gentle conviction, though it was clear that she was just coming to the realization herself.
"Regina."
His voice was like a cooling salve on that old, aching wound. It sent a shiver down her spine, and she was quickly lost in the scent of him as he pressed himself to her side. She leaned into him, her hand taking hold of the fabric of his jacket, and she breathed him in.
"Is everything alright? I've been looking all over for you," Robin crooned, his brow furrowed with genuine concern, his eyes locked on Regina's as his hand slid up against her back, rubbing in soothing circles.
"Everything's fine," she promised softly, the first semblance of peace settling over her features since this all began. She smiled, and he believed it. "I'm so tired of standing in the way of my own happiness. And I'm not going to do it anymore," she promised. Determination was in her gaze once more. But this time, there was something else. There was hope.
Regina would privately count this a victory. She didn't give into her darkness. Even two years ago, she would have acted on impulse and been immediately rewarded with no Zelena, no baby, no complication. However, her own history had taught her she would likely be reaping the unintended consequences of no complications for decades to come. Making the right choice always seemed so much easier when Robin was by her side.