A/N: Okay so let's imagine EVERYTHING in season four has happened and that Emma did sacrifice herself for Regina but she didn't become the Dark One. Storybrooke is peaceful, until an unexpected visitor transforms their world. (This will be Swan Queen eventually but it is more of a Regina tale).
"Ticket please."
I glance up at the man whose hand is in front of my nose. He is quite a big guy with a balding head and a green fleece adorned with several tacky badges. Brian, his name tag reads. Outside, the landscape seems to stretch to infinity. It's liberating as we whoosh past tree after tree after tree: the trees that can only watch and never go.
"Miss, I need your ticket," he grumbles, jabbing a chubby finger at his largest badge- 'No ticket, no seat'. Wow, original.
I sigh and feign fumbling around in my coat pocket , a flustered look plastering my face as I mumble some lie about leaving it in my luggage. Not that I have any. His eye brow raises a fraction and I suppress a giggle, suddenly seeing an egg asking me for a ticket I was never going to have.
"Alright, enough of this. Do you have a ticket or not?"
"Er…"
"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"But… I'm only seventeen and I don't know where to-"
He stops me short, grabbing me by the collar and marching me to the door. Every other passenger averts their gaze and I resist the urge to shout at them- for anyone to NOTICE ME. The coach halts and I'm gone: discarded like a piece of litter.
It's raining. I shrug my rucksack on tighter and watch as the vehicle blurs in to a haze of droplets. There are not even any trees here.
And I'm not surprised. I've never lived a normal life; it's like the universe is intent on chucking as much crap as it can find at a messed up teenager. Someone must have loved me once, a mother. A father? Someone. No one is that lonely.
Except me. There's no sugar coating being the care kid. The care kid without care. I sigh and allow the weather to coat my entirety, the smell of rain reminding me of a nostalgia I never had. Sometimes I like to weave my own memories; a family at Christmas dinner, a night out with friends, a hug. I've always lived for the possibility, the hope, that one day something amazing is going to happen.
But I closed that book of fairy tales the moment I realised there was no one on the other side.
I walk for hours. Literally hours. Just me and the rain and the odd lonely tree. I begin to entertain myself with wild fantasies of alternate universes: a world where I'm not about to give up on life; a world where I have more family than I can know what to do with; a world where I live happily ever after. Urgh. I'm so pathetic sometimes it's no wonder I am how I am. I carry on all the same, painting the perfect portrait, envisaging my first argument with my mother, my curfew, a boyfriend-
And then there's a sign.
'Welcome to Storybrooke'.
And I head towards it. There's something compelling about this unknown place and its battered sign…
Soon enough, I begin to see the outskirts of a small town. Little pools of light emanate from the soft glow of the houses, dusk magnifying their warmth. Houses begin emerging in greater abundance as I continue and suddenly I'm standing at the foot of Main Street, an aggregation of buildings trimming either side of the road. I pass shop after shop until one in particular catches my eye: Granny's Diner. I dig my hand in to my back pocket, relieved to find several small coins.
Granny's is a buzz with town folk, laughing together in booths or flirting skilfully by the juke box machine. However, every single face in this diner directs their focus on me as I push open the door. I blush furiously, willing anything to happen but this. I'm a mess. My shoulder length hair hangs in messy clumps atop of my soaked denim jacket, my shoes are caked in mud and grass and I have no doubt that my mascara is trailing down my cheek in a black tear.
"Hiya!" a bright and bubbly welcome breaks my stupor. I turn to see a smiling brunette wearing an apron and tight jeans. "I'm Ruby," she grins reaching out to shake my hand. I take it gratefully and she ushers me over to the stools by the counter. As if on cue, every stare dissipates and the high pitched chatter returns. I sigh.
"Sorry about that," Ruby laughs, "Welcome to Granny's! What can I get you?"
I drag out the change from my pocket shyly, embarrassed by my evident lack of wealth. Ruby grins again and takes the coins, "How about a hot chocolate? The rest is on me." And with a wink she whirls around, busying herself with coco powder and milk.
Relaxing, I shake off my wet ridden jacket and begin to comb through my hair with my fingers, separating the tangles in to smaller clumps.
"Hey, Ruby," a younger voice chimes, as the door to Granny's opens again. A teenage boy of about fourteen chucks his coat on the hanger and gives a shy little wave towards the brunette.
"Hey, Henry. Coco?"
"Duh," he grins, earning a laugh from the brunette.
"Where's Emma?" Ruby asks as she squirts an unhealthy amount of cream in to my mug. Henry turns to look at me and attempts to supress a gasp. He opens his mouth to say something when the door opens again and a blonde lady in a beanie begins unzipping her coat.
"I'm here!" she exclaims, ruffling the kid's hair. I find myself smiling.
"Mom, look!" Henry hisses, gesturing towards me in disbelief. Emma rolls her eyes and grins at me apologetically.
"Sorry about my obnoxious son," she sighs playfully, giving him a light slap on the shoulder.
Henry rubs it and pouts, "I'm not obnoxious!"
"Here you go, honey," Ruby interjects, placing the steaming mug on the placemat in front of me.
"Coco…." Henry breathes enviously and Emma and Ruby share a knowing glance as the blonde drags out several bills to pay for Henry's own. "You know what would make it even better," he whispers, his voice cracking slightly at the end (poor kid is obviously still experiencing puberty changes).
"What?"
The kid smiles and he's all dimples and freckles as he grabs the cinnamon shaker and sprinkles it on my mug like snow. I smile at him weakly and bring it to my lips. Damn. Okay, this kid's good.
"Better?" he grins smugly, and I can't tear my eyes away from his because I swear to you- they literally shine.
"Not bad," I shrug in reply but my insides are melting. Henry's grin widens as he takes a sip of his own coco, the cream lightly frosting his upper lip. It's pretty cute and I suppress a giggle as his tongue juts out to trying and catch the froth.
"I see your coco has been revolutionised by cinnamon too," Emma laughs as she slides in to the seat beside me, leaving me sandwiched between mother and son. And it feels so good.
I nod and take another sip as she laughs, her blonde hair trailing in loose waves as she shakes her head. She clicks her fingers at Ruby who rolls her eyes in mock exasperation. "Rubes! One for me please, I'm feeling left out," Emma pouts, gesturing towards mine and Henry's rapidly diminishing mug. Henry cringes at his mother, looking to me for help and suddenly I don't want anything more than to stay in this sleepy little town with the blonde mother and the dimply boy.
"What's your name," Henry asks suddenly, narrowing his eyes at me in concentration as if trying to suss out if I'm a lie or not. I don't even know myself.
"Hazel," I reply with a light laugh, gauging his reaction. His eyes open even wider, dancing with something that I cannot seem to pin point.
"Okay. Cool."
And it's acceptance. And I couldn't ask for anything more.
"I love that name," Emma begins as her index finger traces circles in the overflow of chocolate on the counter, "Who are you Hazel?"
What? I falter and turn to Henry for help only to be met with the same placid expression. Maybe this is some kind of 'Welcome to Storybrooke' initiation. "Hazel. I'm 17 years old and-"
"Nooooooo. She means like what are you! You know," the kid pauses and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. My expression mutates in to an even greater degree of quizzical.
"I'm sorry I don't understand…."
Emma smiles and places a hand over mine. I flinch instinctively before accepting the gesture, relishing in the warmth of human contact. "Are you like…erm…. a fairy?"
Confused. So very confused.
"Oh okay! A pixie then?"
"No Mom! Hazel's a royal, definitely," Henry interjects excitedly.
"Is this some kind of game?" I ask tentatively, dumbfounded by the pair's sudden madness.
"You don't have to be embarrassed. We have all sorts here," Ruby grins, leaning over the counter to take my drained mug. I stare at the flecks of chocolate gripping on to the porcelain.
"Yeah Ruby's a werewolf!" Henry exclaims proudly, earning a wink in his direction from the 'werewolf' herself.
Okay, a game. Cool. I'll play along.
"I'm a vampire," I say mysteriously, pleased at the look of horror that it elicits on Henry's face. Ruby looks pretty impressed too and I silently thank Twilight for that inspiration.
"Woah. I didn't even know they were in the Enchanted Forest! You're not dangerous are you?"
"Only if you irritate me," I say flippantly and Emma guffaws.
"Kid, chill. She's not going to suck your blood," the blonde laughs, leaning over me to ruffle Henry's already messy hair.
"Where have you been all this time, Hazel? Did you come with the second curse?" Ruby asks seriously, settling down to rest her head on her hands as she stares at me intensely. Henry and Emma follow suit and I can feel my cheeks blossoming in to their favourite red hue.
"Er yeah, I did?"
The three seem to ponder over my answer for a second before Emma says, "You have no idea what we're on about do you?"
"Well it's a game, right? Ruby's a werewolf, I'm a Vampire…. Right?"
"Hazel. Where did you come from?"
And her tone is serious enough to make me duck my head in shame. Shame for what, I have no idea?
"Boston," is all I can say in response.
Emma takes a very swift intake of breath and pulls away from the counter, grabbing Henry by his collar as she does so. They move away from me whispering and suddenly I'm in 6th grade trying to keep a brave face as insults get chucked my way. I'm just another piece of litter that needs to be disposed of. Taking this as my cue to leave, I shrug on my jacket and yank my rucksack from under my seat. Ruby eyes me wearily as I push open the door, desperate to be anywhere but here.
"Wait!" Emma shouts but I don't turn round. I keep walking to destination I-don't-care.
"Hazel, wait!" Henry's voice is reaching for me now and I falter at the use of my name. There's something so captivating about being addressed to directly. But I still don't turn round. I have to get out of here, out of the sleepy town that will never accept me because I don't belong anywhere- and no amount of cinnamon can change that.
"Hazel!"
They are frantic now as they pick up the pace behind me. Why do they care? I wouldn't.
"Hazel," Emma's hand places atop of my shoulder, gently turning me to face her. I search her eyes but I see only concern. Maybe even compassion? The latter thought is quickly assuaged. "Hazel, please don't go! I'm sorry, we just haven't ever had someone… like you…. in this town before. We don't get many visitors." She struggles with the words.
"You're hiding something," I snap back, fed up of this stupid stupid world.
Emma sighs, "Yes. Yes we are but we will reveal it to you, I promise. I just… I need you to come with me… to meet someone."
"I can't. I have somewhere to be- I need to go."
"No you don't."
I blink at her.
"You're on the run. Believe me, I am all too familiar with what that looks like… and feels like. You don't have anywhere to go except with me."
She eases my bag off my shoulder before handing it to Henry who gracefully slides it on to his own back. Emma outstretches her hand towards me, beckoning me to follow. These people are so weird. But intriguing… so I follow.
Henry is all too eager to point out various Storybrooke landmarks as we walk. There's the clock tower which until recently has been trapped in time (the kid is quite the dramatic story teller) and then there's Mr Gold's pawn shop (a very dangerous place indeed) and then lastly the Mills' mansion.
"Woah," I breathe as my eyes drink in the immaculate bushes trimming the perimeter. "Who lives here?"
"That would be the infamous Madame Mayor," Emma chuckles nudging Henry playfully in the ribs. The kid seems all too happy to run towards the door and knock three times without hesitation.
There is a long pause, in which I notice Emma holds her breath, then the mansion door opens and a brunette woman emerges- probably late thirties- in a tight fitting blazer, oozing regality yet something softer as well. Henry attacks her shoulders in a warm hug, and to my surprise she sinks in to the embrace.
"I've missed you Mom," he says just loudly enough for me to hear. Mom? Now I'm really confused. Emma seems to sense my puzzlement and places another hand on my shoulder reassuringly.
"I'll explain it all later kiddo," she whispers before locking eye contact with Henry's other mother?
"Emma," the brunette breathes, releasing her son and smoothing down her hair. "What are you doing here?" She doesn't seem angry though. More like pleasantly surprised; maybe even happy.
"Hi," Emma begins awkwardly, blushing a little through her blonde locks. Interesting. "Regina, there's someone I need you to meet." She pushes me a little in the direction of the doorway and I stumble on the gravel, reddening furiously under the older woman's intrigued gaze. I'm always so clumsy. People in the home used to tell me that. The boys used to put objects around my room and watch through the key hole as I'd trip and stutter amongst the Lego. But it isn't just kid's toys, is it? I stumble over everything. Over life.
"Who are you," Regina snaps though there is apprehension laced between the asceticism.
I open my mouth to begin the same spiel I tell everyone but this time Henry comes to my rescue. "She's called Hazel, Mom. She comes from," he lowers his voice dramatically, "out there."
"I can see that," Regina hums disapprovingly. I gulp. Damn this woman is scary. Her gaze raises above me to rest on Emma and the two appear to have a conversation through dilation for several seconds before Regina opens her door wider and beckons me in.
…
The interior reminds me of an ice palace: very regal yet incredibly cold. I shiver just standing in the hall way and Emma laughs at me. Regina rolls her eyes but there is no malice. Interesting. Henry kicks off his shoes, earning a tutt and a supressed giggle from his contrasting mothers, and pulls me in to the living room where a game console is wired up to a plasma screen. Emma and Regina follow suit, the latter standing a comfortable distance for examination as she positions herself on a chair directly opposite. It is wildly intimidating and for the second time I gulp. Seemingly unfazed, Emma jumps on the couch beside Henry and pats the seat next to her. I sit.
"Hazel, how did you find Storybrooke?" Regina begins, narrowing her eyes at me suspiciously. I am almost tempted to make a joke about an interrogation light.
"I don't know… it just came in to view. I was walking-"
"Walking where?"
"I don't know I was just-"
"How do you not know where you were walking to?"
"Regina…." Emma's warning tone does little to shake the brunette.
"I don't know I was-"
"Stop saying I don't know! We need to know!"
Regina is blazing now. Henry tries to calm her with a firm squeeze and I swear I see a tiny purple spark erupt from her fingers.
"Why do you need to know?" I snap back, angered by everything.
"Because…. Because you don't belong here!"
And I clamp my mouth shut. Emma growls at Regina but I don't hear the stupid woman's response because I'm off, tearing through the hallway only to be met with a locked door. Shit. I pivot and race upstairs, praying for a window, anything to help me escape. Then again, how can one escape life?
No one calls after me this time. I don't care. I learned that a shielded heart lasts the longest years ago.
"Hazel."
"Stop coming after me, Emma! You can't give me a promise of… of this and then take it away! I'm fed up of people pretending that they want me when they don't." It comes out as a choked sob and I hate myself for it, grabbing chunks of my hair in exasperation.
"Hazel, it's not Emma".
It's not Emma. It's Regina. And I'm standing in front of her, ridden with tears, as her eyes try to understand something she will never be able to.
"Go away," I mumble lamely, running my sleeve across my face to try as I try to maintain some dignity.
Regina takes a step closer. When she speaks her voice is softer than I have ever heard it before, "Hazel. I'm going to ask you something and I really need you to answer honestly. Do you think you can do that?"
I nod.
Regina cradles my limp hands in hers; delicate yet so very strong. And I need as much stability as I can muster. Her brown eyes find my own and she leans ever closer, whispering so that it is only me and her in this horrible world, "Do you believe in magic?"
…
The Queen sits atop of her bed, hair a tangle of regality and something else. Something only she knows. She takes a delicate hand to her brow and messages her temples in quiet disbelief. Everything is too tight and Regina pushes open her corset to breathe. She cradles the tiny piece of paper in her hand as if it were a baby, ironically, I suppose it is. Hers.
She's never had anything of her own before. The crown isn't even hers, not really. She is a broken queen trapped in the shadow of revenge; ruled by the belief that only more death will patch her up again. But…. Now she has a life to call her own- a tiny thing that warrants something as precious and rare as unconditional love.
And she will love her because she is hers and something no one can deny her of.
A/N: Large chunks of italics are bits in the past. Please do review if you want me to continue with this story! I am so enjoying writing in the first person AND having the freedom to create my own unique character. It's so exciting.
Oh and please be aware, I am English so any American(y) type things I get wrong is because I have no idea oops.
Hope to see you soon : )