Title: Make it Without You
Category: TV Shows » Once Upon A Time
Author: Alwaysbringback-up
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M (for language and sexual themes)
Genre: Angst/General

Make it Without You

Pairing: SwanQueen

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the OUAT universe. All characters belong to Adam and Eddie, the show's creators. I promise that my writing is done purely for recreational purposes only. No ill harm is intended.

A/N: This is pretty angst-filled, even for me. I have all of it written, so I will be updating periodically. I've rated it M, because there will be sex in this story. Without further ado, let's get started. I truly hope you like it!

This is the starting of my fall from grace
My self esteem, oh it's seen better days
But you know I'll never let this go to waste

Emma felt her thoughts drift aimlessly as she stared into the wall on the far side of the room. She could hear the second hand of the clock tick away on the wall, but paid no mind to it. To be honest, there were days that the 'tick' 'tick' 'tick' of the clock was just about enough to drive her up a wall. But today? Today wasn't one of them. After all, in order to be annoyed by something, you had to be aware of it. Emma's mind had been wandering for hours. Initially, the blonde had dabbled in memory, but now her mind seemed to be enveloped in daydreams. Emma's eyes, which had been staring at one particular spot on the far wall for the last 17 minutes, finally drifted shut.

She heard Archie's voice ramble on in her mind, as loudly and as clearly as if he were sitting right next to her. 'Take a deep breath, Emma. That's it. That's it. Now, I want you to focus on the world around you.' Emma let out a deep breath, her whole body relaxing. 'Focus on the sensation of the chair at your back. Feel how it supports you, how it pushes back. Good. Now follow that pressure down down down to the tips of your toes, and-.'

Emma's eyes instantly sprang open, as her phone started going off with an abrupt chirp on her desk. Archie's voice instantly vanished, and Emma felt the relaxation she'd felt just a moment ago vanish in lieu of something much less welcome. Panic. She reckoned it had very little to do with her current mind-state, and everything to do with the manner in which she'd been reintroduced to the world of the living. Still, Emma hated it. Just when she thought she was getting somewhere, all of it seemed to slip away from her.

Emma let out a breathless gasp as she instantly scrambled out of her chair, and started rooting frantically around her freshly cleaned desk for a phone that had somehow become buried. Finally, she pushed a stack of papers a hair to the left, and found it, buzzing away on the wooden surface. Emma scooped it up, and hesitated as she saw the name etched colorfully onto the display. Emma's breath stalled, as her mind tried to decide what to do.

Emma felt herself stiffen as she took in the ticking of the clock on the wall for the first time in hours; the sound served as a sort of reminder that time stopped for no one. Emma felt her phone pulse in her hand, as her breath hitched in her throat. Sure, she could answer. But Emma knew that the second she said a word, the brunette would know something was wrong. She couldn't afford to let that happen. Regina had plenty of things to worry about already, and Emma knew the last thing that she needed was to add Emma's problems to the list as well. Emma's forefinger groped for the button on the side of the device, and pressed it, her decision made. Emma felt a pain lance through her chest as the call was declined, and the screen went dark. In a fit of anger, Emma tossed the device onto her desk and turned away. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, for several frantic pulses, then the sound began to fade and was replaced by something else. Emma placed her hands on her hips, as she suddenly struggled to breathe. She closed her eyes and waited for the feeling to pass.

Still, the maddening 'tick' 'tick' 'tick' of the clock pounded away on the wall. Emma was pretty sure that the clock had been placed there as a means of getting into the heads of the criminals who were unlucky enough to find themselves in lock-up for the night. But she had yet to look into that particular notion, or tear the clock from the wall with her own weary fingers.

Emma swallowed thickly as she found herself dwelling on one particular emotion that had been growing increasingly troublesome as of late, and tried to pick it out. For the longest time, she had refused to acknowledge what it was. But now? Now it was time for her to face up with it. For a while, Emma thought that maybe she could cover up her feelings...that the meditation would serve as a means of exorcising those particular demons from her mind. But it was clear, now, that she just didn't get that luxury. She was the sole Sheriff in a town full of fairy tale characters that had magic. She was lucky if she had enough time to herself for a good meal and a good night's sleep.

You might be wondering what particular emotion was haunting our good Sheriff.

That answer is easy enough, to say the least. Emma was experiencing disappointment.

Oh, disappointment. Never has there been so much sentiment conveyed in one simple word (well, except for one very specific four letter word, but that's a conversation for another day). Disappointment. It is a powerful and loathsome emotion. The word itself speaks of intense regret and failure. And yet, such a description doesn't quite do justice to it. Perhaps, what really needs to be said about this particular emotion is that it is dangerous. It has a unique ability to make a person despise themselves, to loathe themselves on the deepest possible level. This particular emotion, and the devastation it brings, is immeasurable. It destroys lives.

In her lifetime, Emma Swan had been many things; an abandoned newborn, a foster kid nobody wanted, a high school dropout, a runaway, a teen mother, a thief, an incarcerated and very pregnant young woman, a Sheriff, a lover, a denier, a believer, and a daughter, but somehow she felt like more of a disappointment at present than she ever had before. She felt it at the very core of her being, but for whatever reason she also felt powerless to stop it. She kept making the same mistake over and over again. And she knew that in her heart of hearts that if anyone knew what she was doing they would be ashamed of her. But worst of all, she was afraid of her parents finding out. Her parents were the very picture of morality, of goodness. And now? Now they had a daughter committing the very worst of sins. For the longest time, all Emma wanted was to exert her independence, to push back against the sudden and almost suffocating concern that her parents had for her these last few years. Now, she would give anything to give it back, to not be ashamed of the person she'd become. But it was too late. In life there are no such things as a do over.

As many have discovered, it is nearly impossible to find the perfect balance between being independent and eliciting pride in those that you love the most.

...

You can feel the guilt start to eat away at you and consume you until it's almost too much.

...

Emma Swan did her best to grit her teeth and bare it. After all, she was no stranger to disappointment. She was used to being disappointed in others, and she was equally used to being the source of it, as well. Maybe this anguish that she felt, the sort of emotional pain that followed her around taunting her every waking moment, was her punishment...her cross to bear.

Emma had spent much of her adolescence feeling like less than a human being. After all, she had grown up in the system, while constantly being told (in no uncertain terms) that she was worthless. And even when the words weren't explicitly used, they were implied, for actions spoke louder than all. She watched as kids that were much younger and cuter than her, get adopted by families. She called it they puppy adoption syndrome. Because who in their right mind would chose an older dog over an adorable, doting puppy?

Being bounced around the foster system did little to assuage her feelings of inferiority. By the time she was ten, she'd been through no fewer than ten foster homes. And it just so happened that one of her foster parents had told her, in between strikes, that she was a mistake and that she shouldn't even exist. Despite all of the healing she'd done in the last few years since finding her real family, part of Emma still believed that she was unworthy of, and never really would find a love of her own. After all, how could anyone really love a mistake, and a screw up like her?

...

Many people say that there comes a time in your life that you find something worth fighting for.

The truth is, Emma Swan was completely unprepared for this moment. When it happened, she only had a split second to make her choice, to react to it. Now, she would give anything to go back and... Damn, she can't really say that she'd change it, because she doesn't know if she really could. She acted with her heart, with her soul. How did something so innocent, wind up turning into something like this?

The fact is, when faced with this opportunity, you must make a choice (and yes, sometimes inaction counts as a choice). Either you turn your back on it and let it go, or you go after it with everything that you have. In her case, Emma chose the latter. She went after it with every fiber of her being.

As I did.

...

In your mind, you decide that you are willing to do anything, even though it may go against everything you believe in… even if it makes you despise yourself on the deepest level. It's about need. You let it consume you to the point that you let it overtake everything else. You stop thinking about other people, and about how your poor choices will affect them. You stop caring. You decide that you're willing to risk everything: your job, your friends, and your whole life, just so that you can feel alive.

One time, one night of weakness becomes something more. Suddenly, you are caught in the middle of something that you have no idea how to get out of. You are drowning in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight. You know what you're doing is wrong. You promised yourself that you would never be the other woman, the mistress, but for some reason you just can't let her go. The way she looks at you with those molten chocolate eyes, has you dying slowly inside. No matter how hard you try, you can't seem to pull away. Every time you think that you might be able to walk away from this abysmal situation, you find yourself getting pulled back into her arms. And as much as you want to regret it, you can't. Because she makes you feel alive. She finally makes you feel wanted and desired in a way that you haven't felt in a very very long time, and that's all you ever wanted.

(Tuesday, September 22nd, 2015; 7:17 p.m.)

Emma let out an exhausted sigh as she slipped her coat over her shoulders, preparing for the long, and likely cold night ahead. She winced slightly as she tugged at several sore muscles in her midsection, feeling pain ripple through her body as a direct consequence. Emma winced, her breath suddenly hitching in her lungs at the spike of pain. She swallowed back the moan that threatened to escape her, and clenched her jaw tightly in response. She tried to ignore the pain, but it was not easily done. Instead, it lingered in her lungs, much like the air did that she breathed. She felt the muscles in her temple throb with newfound discomfort, as her teeth ground against one another uncomfortably.

Emma gave the room a cursory glance and willed herself to relax once more. She was safe here, she had to keep telling herself. She was alone in the shadows, but that didn't exactly mean she was in any mortal danger.

Friends go out, but I've been staying in
I know I should, but that's the way it's been
I never cared much for the taste of gin
Still don't now, oh, but it's been helping

David had tried to get her to leave with him hours ago, but was unsuccessful. Emma simply did not feel like being in the company of anyone tonight. To be honest, all she really wanted was a fifth of scotch, and the silence of her home; a home she'd bought for a life with a man who no longer existed.

Running a hand through her hair, Emma turned around and stalked back to her desk, rummaging around in the top drawer for her keys. She looked around anxiously as she straightened up. She planted a hand flat against it's smooth surface as, she felt a surge of dizziness.

The shadows cast over the room made her uneasy. And almost instinctively, Emma's hand darted down to her right hip, in order to confirm the presence of her service weapon. Its presence served as a sort of crutch, for the days that were particularly difficult. During the several years she'd spent in Storybrooke, Emma had grown used to threats on her life, but today - today she had gotten a little more than she had bargained for. One of the boys that they had been trying to apprehend in the woods, had taken some shots at them, and a couple of them had been lucky enough to find purchase. It's safe to say that if Emma hadn't been wearing a vest, she likely would have been in some very serious trouble.

An involuntary shiver shot up her spine at the mere memory of it, and Emma felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. She lifted a hand, and pressed it to her stomach as she tried to take another breath. Sometimes holding the pressure there with the flat of her hand, helped. Whale had told her that breathing would be difficult, at least for a while. She had several broken ribs, but there was little they could do for her, apart from wrapping them. He'd also rambled on about her being susceptible to pneumonia. You think he would have picked up on her disinterest, but he kept talking, going on about doing breathing exercises, before she'd finally tuned him out. Emma closed her eyes, as she gently lifted her hand from her ribcage, satisfied that she had satisfied her need for oxygen... for the time being, at least.

She could remember every sensation, as if it were permanently etched into her memory forevermore. She could remember feeling the cool breeze against her sweat dampened face, and the quickness with which the air came in her lungs, as she and David sprinted through the underbrush. She still remembered what it felt like when the branches cut into the skin of her arms or her face, as she pushed through them without care or thought for their survival. She had heard them snap, as she applied just a little too much force, for even the most flexible of trees, to take. She felt the sting of the scratches on her cheeks, now, even hours later, where some of the branches had cut into her otherwise flawless porcelain skin. She could remember the crunch of leaves under her feet as she trod on them. But most of all, she could remember a loud crack of what sounded like thunder, in an otherwise cloudless sky. She'd felt that shot, through the very core of her being, and she wouldn't be forgetting that feeling anytime soon. It had threatened her very existence... It had threatened to tear her from this world, in less time than it took for her to blink. She could remember being completely blindsided, and getting knocked flat on her back. She'd hit the ground harder than she'd ever thought possible, had felt her bones bow inside of her, as they recoiled from the force with which she hit the ground. There she had lain, with her lungs desperately raking for oxygen, as stared up through the overhead branches and right into the bright blue September sky. It had all happened so fast that she hadn't even known what had hit her. It wasn't until David had rushed over in a panic, and had ripped open her shirt in order to reveal a large golden slug embedded deeply in her vest, that Emma realized what had really happened. She'd been shot.

She hated the thoughts swirling around in her mind right now. She hated how vivid the images of today were, even now...hours after it had happened. Part of her was worried about developing PTSD, and what it might mean for her. Would she even be able to do her job? And how on earth could she put her badge on tomorrow, and pretend as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened?

Emma grimaced at the memory, and at the soreness still located over her left ribcage. Emma lent forwards bracing herself against the desk. A sigh fell from parted lips, as Emma tried to gather the strength to move. She was tired. All she ever felt nowadays was a deep sort of tired, the kind that seeps into your very bones. Her phone started going off again on her desk, and Emma swallowed hard as her eyes found the display. This time she let it ring, over and over and over again. She took one shuddering breath and then another. She hated what she was doing, shutting the brunette out like this. But she couldn't bear to hear the woman's voice...not now.

Emma took in a deep breath through her nose, in the way that Archie showed her, and let it out slowly, focusing on the feeling of tension leaving her body. This newfound state of relaxation didn't last long, however.

"So, it would seem that my suspicions were correct," a low and raspy voice spoke up from the darkness, "You are screening my calls." Emma's head moved reflexively towards the sound, her eyes darting upwards from the floor, as her dark green gaze struggled to find the shadowed figure hiding in plain sight.

Emma pushed off of the desk with both hands, so that she was standing upright, once more.

Emma let out a shuddering breath, shaking out her hands as she silently willed herself to calm down. Emma gulped loudly, her breaths sounding deafening in the now quiet room. She wanted to let out some kind of expletive, at being so rattled, but she held her tongue. She knew how Regina Mills felt about swearing...about how it was uncouth, and unseemly. And even though Emma hated hiding those parts of her, she still found herself doing it in the older woman's presence anyway.

"Emma?" Regina's strained voice sounded distant to Emma's ears. Emma swallowed again, trying to find words to speak, but finding none.

Regina frowned, while taking in the vacant and almost glassy look in Emma's deep green eyes. Something was wrong with the blonde. She was sure of it now. David had claimed that Emma was okay when he'd left her, but it was clear to her now that he'd been lying, or at the very least he had been trying to hide some sort of unspoken truth within his own words. Emma was not okay. Not even close. If she were being honest, the blonde looked... unreachable, and that scared her more than anything. All the frustration that she'd felt upon realizing that the blonde was avoiding her, was suddenly gone. All that mattered now was Emma.

"Emma, Hey," Regina spoke again, as she approached the blonde slowly so as not to startle her, "Are you okay?"

For one long second, Emma looked into Regina's deep brown eyes, seeing the brunette's own fear directed her way. She also saw evidence of another emotion that Emma found much harder to place. She wasn't sure exactly what it was. Emma's hands clenched into involuntary fists, as the blonde subconsciously guarded herself from emotions suddenly threatening to seep to the surface. She felt so much for this woman. She hated how soft and gentle Regina's voice sounded to her now, as if the brunette were afraid of scaring her off. It made Emma feel like a skittish puppy.

By some miracle, Emma had managed to stay away from the brunette, but not without a price.

"I- I was..." Emma voice trailed off again as she lost the thought. Quickly, Emma tore her eyes away under the pretense of straightening the paperwork on her desk. Paperwork that she had scattered earlier in her quest to find her phone. Emma's desk was the cleanest in the station, but only because she had devoted a couple of hours to it. A cursory glance at David's desk left her wondering how the man ever found anything he was looking for. Perhaps she would do something nice and clean it for him this weekend. After all, she had nothing better to do.

"Emma?" Regina's voice was barely a whisper, but held enough force behind it to jolt Emma back to the present. "Hey, talk to me."

Emma jumped again as a gentle touch to the skin of her forearm made her aware that the brunette wasn't exactly about to give up on a reply.

"What's wrong?" Regina asked her patiently. "Emma, you're scaring me." The older woman's voice held far too much emotion in it, and Emma wished she hadn't noticed. Another involuntary shiver overtook Emma's body, as her body reacted to the stimulus of Regina's warm touch. Even through her jacket, Emma could feel the pressure of Regina's fingers, and it lit her entire body on fire. Emma fought her every instinct to pull away, though her body still stiffened under the older woman's touch. For some reason, even though Emma had been looking in her direction, and had watched her approach, she hadn't really processed the information until now. Her mind was still sluggish and still lagging behind the things that were happening around her. She hadn't even been aware of the closeness of Regina's body until now. And now, Regina was standing right next to her, breathing the same air as she was. Emma reflexively tried to pull away, her body shying away from the woman in front of her. But Regina was having nothing of it. She knew that Emma would run, if she let her.

"No," Regina told her sternly. Her word was a puff of air between them, and Emma felt it...acutely.

Emma swallowed as her throat became suddenly very dry, like sand in a parched desert.

"Emma," Regina pleaded, as she reached up and touched her for the first time. She did it cautiously, almost as if Emma's were intangible and about to slip through her fingers.

"You scared me," Emma finally admitted aloud. Emma felt a heat blossom in her cheeks, as her embarrassment got the better of her.

"It's okay," Regina told her gently, her voice full of understanding and depth. The brunette knew about what had happened, and understood Emma's resulting insecurities. "Hey, it's okay. We're safe here. I promise."

"Regina, what-," Emma's breath hitched roughly, forcing the blonde to try again. "What are you doing here?" Emma couldn't keep her exhaustion from seeping into her voice. "It's getting late. You should be at home with Robin, Roland, and Henry right now."

"Please," another touch had Emma closing her sea green eyes, "Emma, I- I had to see you." Regina pressed their foreheads together, as she sought comfort from the blonde. She knew that she should be offering the blonde something, instead of taking from her like this. But she couldn't help it. She had felt so desperate - so rattled - after hearing about what had happened. All she wanted now, was to feel was the blonde's touch. She needed to convince herself that they were going to be okay, somehow. Regina took a step back, and reached up to the blonde's face, palming a fair cheek. Regina gasped, as she felt a rise in the skin, where it had been broken. Regina's eyes scrutinized the blonde's face, finding more imperfections in what should have been flawless skin.

Emma silently wondered how a simple touch could affect her so much. She hated how her resolve could be so easily undone. A soft hand brushed across her cheek, causing Emma to open her eyes. There were so many things that Emma didn't know, but one that she did. She would never get sick of the brunette's hands. The truth was, that Emma was constantly amazed by the gentleness of the older woman's touches. Regina's hands were the perfect mix of strength and of gentleness; the perfect contradiction that defied all logic. It seemed fitting to Emma that those hands belonged to a woman that was the very embodiment of contradiction, a woman of overwhelming conviction and spirit.

One thing Emma knew about Regina Mills, was that she was fieriness personified. Never had she encountered someone who held the same degree of passion as Regina did for those that they cared about. That one fact had posed many challenges in the four or so years that Emma had known her. After all, Regina had challenged her in ways Emma hadn't thought possible. Still, Emma wouldn't trade that feeling for anything. In Snow's words, Regina was the type of person to feel something with their entire soul. And although it was wonderful to have someone with that degree of passion in her life, Emma knew it could also be a double edged sword. Regina's fierceness, though wonderful, could also be extremely dangerous. In cases of loss, Regina's passion had turned into something much more sinister, a need for thirst and for revenge. However, Emma didn't want to dwell on those things now. All she wanted to focus on was the feeling of Regina's warm flesh on hers. Because it was heaven. That is the only word she could think of to describe it. She loved Regina Mills, and Emma hoped, Regina loved her too.

Breath was stolen from Emma's lungs as she realized that they were breathing the same air now. She saw the storm raging in Regina's molten chocolate eyes. Emma was frozen, her breathing catching as she focused on the heat of Regina's palm against her face, and the way the older woman's thumb was sweeping back and forth over the shell of her ear.

Regina reached around the back of Emma's neck and pulled, taking the blonde's mouth in a heated kiss. "But you shouldn't be here. It's too much of a-" Emma's voice faded into nothingness, as Regina swallowed the rest of her words. Emma's eyelids fluttered closed at the feel of Regina's soft insistent lips against her own. The long lashes fluttered gently, as she let herself get lost in the kiss and the feel of Regina's full lips against her own. Despite her best efforts to hold them back, Emma couldn't stop the moan from escaping when Regina's tongue slipped past Emma's parted lips, and into the blonde's warm mouth.

Emma vaguely felt the woman's hand knead at the flesh at the back of her neck, trying to work the tightness out of the muscles there. Emma moaned loudly into Regina's mouth as the brunette's fingers expertly coaxed knots out of the muscles, before moving upwards and tangling into her hair. Emma felt the telltale tug of silken strands, as Regina's hand closed around soft strands of hair, struggling to hold Emma against her. If felt so damned good Emma couldn't put it into words.

Just as suddenly, however, Emma seemed to come back to herself and pulled away, fighting Regina's touches as the older woman struggled to maintain a hold on her. Emma batted away Regina's hands, while trying to ignore the look of rejection on Regina's face.

I lost perspective of who I was, I hit the wall
I knew that it would take a lot but it took it all
No you don't come this far to turn around, you've covered too many miles
No you don't get this close to breaking down just to close your eyes

"No," Emma murmured stubbornly. "We can't- we can't do this anymore."

"Dear, why must you always be so difficult?" Regina asked, her voice a low rumble. It instantly sent a shiver down Emma's spine. Emma's only reaction to this was to let out a low growl. It wasn't fair how the older woman's voice was like pure sex without her even having to try.

"You never answered my question," Emma persisted. "Regina," Emma sighed, "Why are you really here?"

"You know why," Regina said simply. "I just couldn't stay away any longer. It's driving me insane, Emma. Please. I need you to come home with me," Regina breathed softly. "I need you tonight. Please. Don't- Don't make me beg!"

"Damn it!" Emma nearly growled in frustration, as her fears were confirmed, and she suddenly knew why Regina was suddenly so desperate. The brunette definitely knew about what had happened. "My Dad told you what happened, didn't he? That's what this is all about." Emma found herself asking as she met the older woman's gaze. There was something fragile about Regina's current expression, and Emma could see the distress threatening to fracture the brunette's cool facade.

Emma watched as Regina's expression faltered. The brunette didn't say a word, but she didn't have to. Regina was a nervous wreck.

"Hey," Emma tried to reassure her with a gentle smile. "It's okay. I'm okay. You can see it for yourself, right now. I- I'm fine."

Emma's breaths ceased as Regina suddenly reached out for her, tugging her close. Surprisingly gentle arms wrapped around her, and Emma felt guilty as Regina buried her face in Emma's neck. Emma tried to swallow down the soft gasp that left her lips as Regina's body pressed just a little too tightly against Emma's sore ribs. Regina, however, seemed to pick up on the blonde's pain, because she released her hold on Emma just as soon as the sound had escaped her lips. Regina's expression hardened for a moment, as a look of guilt passed across her face. She reached out again, her eyes searching Emma's for any trace of pain, as her fingers explored. Emma resisted the urge to pull away, as the pads of the brunette's fingers expertly pressed over Emma's ribcage, searching systematically for the place where she'd been struck. Without much delay, the brunette found it. Emma instantly gasped at the twinge of pain that this touch instilled in her, feeling particularly vulnerable. Without thought, Emma jumped back. After all, her body's instinct was to put as much space between her injuries and the thing causing the pain as it possibly could.

"I-I'm sorry if I," Regina's voice was soft, but filled with pain, "hurt you just now. I was just trying to- Emma, I had to know."

Emma suddenly found herself penetrated by Regina's intense gaze. There was something so raw and vulnerable present in the brunette's shimmering gaze, and Emma watched in anguish as the brunette's pain finally spilled over. Emma watched a single tear weave its way down Regina's cheek.

"He promised me he wouldn't say anything." Emma murmured, as she reached up to wipe away the tear with her thumb. Her voice was suddenly full of a pain she could no longer hide. She struggled to pull away again, but Regina wouldn't let her.

"He didn't. It was in his report," Regina's voice cracked. "God, Emma, when I read about what happened, I was so-"

"Regina," Emma attempted to forestall Regina's confession, but was too late.

"Scared," the last word of Regina's confession rang out through the sudden silence, and the depth of emotion behind it pulled at Emma in ways she swore she would never let herself be pulled. "I've never been so scared in all of my life."

"Regina," Emma suddenly begged, "Stop. Please just stop this. It-" She wanted to say hurts, but choked on the word at the last minute. She didn't want Regina to think her weak.

"After I read the report, I called your father. And when I talked to him on the phone, he told me that you put on your vest as an afterthought," Regina murmured softly, trying to hold Emma close. "Today could have turned out drastically different. I- God I could have lost you."

"But you didn't," Emma said, biting down on her tongue slightly as her jaw tensed. "E-Everything is fine, Regina."

"No it's not! That's an outright lie, and you know it!" Regina hissed suddenly, her eyes flashing in sudden hurt. She hated when the blonde lied to her. "Everything is not fine, Emma. It's not even close. You keep avoiding me and pushing me away, and I need to know why! I deserve to know why!"

"Regina," Emma groaned as she felt the pads of Regina's fingers press into her jaw with surprising intensity.

"Just tell me why," Regina begged, as she forced Emma's eyes to hold her own. "Why, after everything we've been through, do you still insist on pushing me so far away?" Regina sounded hurt, and Emma felt guilt gnaw at her insides.

"Because it hurts too much!" Emma burst out, her temper flaring. She could feel her eyes burning hotly with her own tears, as she finally admitted the truth aloud for the first time. "Being around you hurts too damned much and I can't fucking stand it! That's why. I hate myself for being so weak, Regina, but I just can't be around you. I just can't, okay?"

"Emma," Regina's voice instantly softened. Her features slowly tightened as the brunette realized that she could completely relate. After all, being around Emma was torturous. It hurt beyond description.

For a long time, the brunette used to think that it was a good kind of hurt, but now she isn't sure what to believe. It's hard to compare it to any emotion that Regina was familiar with, but she reckoned that it came closest to despair. Still, she wouldn't trade the feeling for the rest of the world. She couldn't trade the feeling, because she was in love with Emma Swan, and would be until the day she drew her last breath.

"I can't- I can't do this," Emma said thickly as the guilt became too much.

"Yes you can," Regina tells her with utmost confidence. "We can do this, Emma. We can make it through this. I know we can."

"No," Emma shook her head, as she choked back the beginnings of a sob.

"You don't have to hide from me, Emma," Regina told her. "You forget. I know you. I may even know you better than you even know yourself."

"Stop!" Emma begged her, she hated Regina for getting personal, for making it personal. Emma suddenly decided that she might as well have just slapped the brunette, when she sees the hurt that her words had just caused the older woman, her confidant, her lover. Regina was reeling. She looked...devastated. And it was all of Emma's fault. All they seemed to do was hurt each other, and Emma didn't want to do it anymore.

"Go. Please, just go," Emma pleaded emphatically, as she pulled away from the older woman, putting as much distance between them as she could manage. "Go home, Regina." She put emphasis on the word home, because she felt like she needed to remind Regina where her home was... It was with Robin and Roland and Henry, not her.

"No," Regina said stubbornly. Regina's hand latched onto Emma's wrist, a look of pain on her features. "I'm not going home without you, Emma."

"Regina-" Emma felt every word as her heart thundered away in her chest. "Please, I can't keep doing this."

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," Regina pleaded. "Please. It's been weeks since we..."

"I know," Emma interrupted, pulling away. "And I'm trying to say that I can't do this anymore, Regina."

And before Regina could even open her mouth to reply, Emma was flipping off her desk lamp and walking away, leaving the brunette standing there with a distraught look marring her perfect features. The brunette missed the sound of the blonde's suppressed cries, as Emma fled from the station, leaving her standing in complete darkness.

Come if you believe me
Come if you remember the way
If not then I will find you this time
Wishing you had stayed

A/N: Please hit the review button on the way out. Thanks for reading!