Sometime after she left Killian, Emma found herself on Regina's doorstep. She didn't know where else to go. She certainly couldn't stay in her and Killian's house, and with everything going on in her head she absolutely couldn't go back to her parents' apartment. She didn't even know how to begin to explain to them what happened, and still happening.
'Hey Mom and Dad! Your very own pretty pretty princess broke up with the guy you think is her prince. And also, I might be genderqueer or trans or a guy or who the fuck knows. Can I come live here again?'
So she's here. At Regina's.
By now, she's reasonably confident that Regina will let her in and maybe, if she plays her cards right, Emma can crash here for a while. At least until she can get her own place.
She pauses a moment with her hand raised at the door about to knock. 'This is ridiculous. She's your friend.' Emma takes a breath and knocks.
Instead of Regina, it's Henry that greets her at the door.
"Mom!"
Henry immediately opens the door wider to let her in and gives her a hug. Man, she loves her kid. He can always lift her spirits. For a fourteen-year-old, he's surprisingly comfortable showing affection to his moms. Emma hopes that never goes away.
"Are you coming over for dinner? Mom didn't say anything."
"No, kid. I just came by to talk to your mom about something."
Henry narrows his eyes, scrutinizing Emma. He'll never quite grow out of his 'Operation' phase. "Is everything okay?"
Just then Regina steps out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Who's at the door, sweetheart?" but she sees Emma before Henry has a chance to answer.
"Emma. What are you doing here?"
"She said she had to talk to you, but she won't tell me what it's about."
"I just got here, kid. You didn't give me much of a chance."
"Well then what is it?"
Emma's silent, visibly uncomfortable with the idea of discussing what's going on with her teenager. "Nothing really.
Henry looks towards Regina with an I-told-you-so look. "See. She won't tell me."
"Henry, your mother doesn't have to tell you everything going on in her life. Sometimes there are things mothers want to keep from their fourteen-year-old sons." Henry rolls his eyes. "Do not roll your eyes at me, young man." The slight smirk on Regina's face weakens her strict tone.
"Whatever," Henry says. "I'm gonna go finish my algebra homework before dinner. Although I don't know why we still need to know this stuff. It's not like fairytale characters ever had to solve for some stupid letter anyway."
Emma and Regina can hear his voice fading away as he walks upstairs to his room.
"God, we really do have a teenager, don't we? He's such a good kid, sometimes I forget," Emma chuckles.
"Hmm," Regina agrees with a soft smile. "Now what was it you needed to speak with me about? Hopefully not another trip to Hell. I've had enough of the merry band of misfits trekking into other worlds. I was through after Neverland, to be honest."
"No, no. Not that. Just, umm... well it's not that easy to explain. I mean I guess some of it kinda is." Emma hesitates. "Killian and I broke up."
Regina's eyes widen slightly. "I see. I can't say I'm sad to hear your relationship with that unwashed pirate has ended," Regina softens her tone. "But I am sorry if you're hurting. I know you cared for him."
"Yeah I guess. I mean I did. I just don't think in the way I was supposed to."
"Would you like to sit down and talk more about it?"
"Could we maybe talk after Henry goes to bed?"
"Sure that's fine. Henry and I would love to have you for dinner. We're having chicken and rice. Nothing special. We can have drinks in my study after dinner if you like? And if you're comfortable, we can speak more about what's bothering you."
Emma smiles slightly. "Yeah. That sounds nice."
After dinner, Henry goes upstairs to his room, kissing both of his moms on the cheek and saying he wants to read a bit before going to bed. They wish him goodnight and then retire to Regina's study, a glass of the most expensive scotch Emma has ever tasted in each of their hands. Their legs are not quite touching, but close enough that Regina hopes she's sending warmth in Emma's direction. They have been silent for a while, listening to the house settling and the fire crackling in the background.
Emma inhales. She's afraid to fracture this moment but she feels the words pull at her throat.
"Do you ever feel like someone else is writing your story?" she says quietly, barely breaking the silence that had surrounded them before. It's a bit like touching a soap bubble and watching it burst.
Regina gave her a look. "Are you really asking me that? Our son is the Author and he literally writes our story."
"No I mean like things just—" Emma pauses, gesturing with her hands. "I don't know, like you feel like stuff wasn't supposed to happen the way it did, like you're not supposed to be you."
Regina considers her answer. This moment feels heavy, more important than she can grasp right now. Emma may be one of the strongest people she knows, but beneath all her noble bluster and gallant heroism, Emma can be surprisingly breakable. Regina doesn't want to ruin this by saying something wrong. She decides to be honest.
"No. I don't think so."
"Oh, okay… It's stupid. Nevermind."
Emma deflates. She looks small. Regina has thought a lot of things about Emma throughout their relationship, but she doesn't think she's ever thought Emma looked small. She looks a bit like cornered animal, one very likely to lash out or run away if not approached carefully. Regina feels several steps behind this conversation.
She gently places her hand on Emma's forearm. "It's not stupid, Emma." Regina hesitates to ask the same question. "Have you felt that way?"
Emma expected Regina to ask her that but it still catches her by surprise. She can feel the silence ringing in her ears and Regina's palm burning into her skin. Her heart is pounding and she feels like her lungs have been scooped out. Emma has never felt so terrified in her life, but she knows if she doesn't talk about this with someone, she's going to go insane. And if anyone can understand feeling like they don't belong in their life, it would probably be Regina.
She takes a long pull at her scotch. Staring towards the wall, Emma says, "I don't know, maybe. Maybe sometimes."
Regina gently gazes at Emma. She's starting to understand that this is something much larger than a break-up. "This isn't just about Killian, is it?"
"No," Emma almost whispers.
Regina takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully, "Emma, I know our relationship has been hard won and it doesn't always feel like a normal friendship, but I hope you know you can trust me. You can talk to me about anything."
Emma looks at Regina, eyes frightened but with a sliver of hope in them. Regina wonders if anyone has ever really offered to listen to Emma with no expectations or judgments.
"I don't really know how to say it right. I don't even get it myself most of the time."
"You can just try, Emma. I'll listen."
Emma takes another long sip at her scotch, eventually tipping the whole thing back. Pointing to her glass, "I'm gonna get more of this."
Emma takes the scotch decanter and pours herself a generous portion. She'll need it if she's gonna get through this conversation. She knows she's super fidgety but she's fine. She's gonna power through it and pretend everything's okay. If this whole identity crisis has taught her anything, it's that she's good at pretending. Emma crosses her legs under her, sitting back on the couch. Emma's slouches over and puts her elbows on her knees, gripping her glass of scotch tightly with both hands.
Regina waits patiently. She knows if she interjects she could cause Emma to close herself off and shut Regina out.
Emma sits up slightly and looks towards Regina. "Well I guess I've been thinking about myself a lot lately, but not like in a selfish way. I'm just figuring things out. After everything finally calmed down and we didn't have a magical Disney adventure to go on, I realized I actually had to live with myself. I don't think I've ever settled down long enough to actually think about what I want and who I am. It was just foster home after foster home and then Neal and prison and Henry and now all this magical crap." She pauses. "It's all been a blur, you know?"
Regina nods, encouraging Emma to continue.
"But I'm here, and I'm the most settled I've ever been with a real family and everything," Emma can feel tears well in the corners of her eyes. "And all of a sudden I have to live my life, not just run through it. I'm supposed to be happy and with my 'True Love,'" she makes sarcastic quotations with her hands around the term, "but all I can think is that this all feels off. Like I'm going through the motions. Like I'm living someone else's life."
Regina lets the silence stretch between them for a while then asks tentatively, "Why do you think that?"
Emma's stomach feels like it dropped down to her toes. She takes a breath. "I thought it was just Killian at first but the more I thought about it, everything felt wrong long before I met him. And I know it's more than just about being with the wrong guy. I think maybe… I was born wrong. Like maybe," Emma swallows the lump in her throat, "I should have been born a guy."
Emma rushes through the last sentence like expelling a breath she'd been holding for a long time. Somehow saying out loud makes everything tangible. Almost as if she could reach out and touch this moment. And now she feels that maybe she's real enough to be herself. Himself.
Regina looks at Emma with gentle eyes. Suddenly a lot of things make sense. Emma always exuded a masculine energy about her (him?). He always acts like a teenage boy, Regina thinks fondly. Every time she saw him in a dress he always looked, not exactly out of place, he looked beautiful, but he seemed like he was acting a part to make everyone else happy. Regina could see his eyes were dim and empty. But when he was in a casual button down and jeans, he looked more at home in himself. Regina realizes it's been years since he looked anywhere near comfortable in his own skin.
"R—Regina? Emma stutters, hands shaking slightly now. His heart feels like it's beating against his sternum and the shockwaves are pulsing all the way to his fingertips. He can't breathe. He honestly can't breathe, and he just really needs to hear Regina say something before his lungs collapse.
"Emma, you need to breathe." Regina moves her hand to rest on Emma's. "Thank you for trusting me." Regina never thought she'd have someone open up to her the way Emma just did. She thought she had partitioned herself into too many small pieces, no piece quite enough to love or trust; a young girl longing for a sister, a hopeless girl at the mercy of her mother, a shell grieving Daniel, an empty chasm lying still under the King, drifting away and slowly letting the anger swirl and metastasize in the hollow cavern in her chest, rooting herself into the grandiose Evil Queen, and a woman holding her child too tightly, not knowing how to love quite right. And now she has Emma and Henry and even Snow and Charming in her life, as her family. Emma trusts her, maybe even loves her. He felt comfortable enough to open himself up so she could really see him. She desperately hopes she's handling this right. "Do you want me to call you a different name?"
"You would do that?" Emma looks impossibly young. Regina can almost see how many times he's been rejected in his eyes, in the way his body spreads open in faint hope and leans slightly into hers.
Regina holds Emma's hand securely, "Of course I would. I want you to feel like you. You mean a great deal to me."
Emma takes in the warmth in Regina's tone and in her hand cradling his. "Okay… Well I'm not really sure. I've thought about a few. I don't know, they're probably stupid."
"I'm sure they're not," Regina reassures.
"Um... well maybe Noah?" Emma questions, as if asking for permission. It's the first time he's said it out loud. He tests the way it feels in his mouth. The soft close of the n relaxing into ah, almost like Emma but new and different and right and his.
Emma starts to speak with increasing speed. He's so relieved to finally get this all out and to have someone actually hear what's been festering in his head for months, and probably his whole life. "I looked it up just to make sure it fit. It feels so weird to name yourself but I thought I should do it right, you know?" Regina nods supportively. "It means comfort and rest. And that's what I want. To be comfortable and to finally feel like I can rest and ease into myself."
"Noah. That's a lovely name." Regina means it. She can see how the name makes Emma, 'Noah,' she corrects herself, at peace with himself.
Noah exhales. He realizes now he's crying softly. The relief of Regina saying his name and accepting him becoming overwhelming. Regina had so many names for him, each for a different moment. Ms. Swan when she wants to chastise him, but now it's mostly good natured; Emma for meaningful moments and lately normal moments too, Sheriff Swan for when she wants to condescend him; and Savior when Regina's bitter and discontented with her misfortune. But Noah. Noah feels like all the moments woven together into something more beautiful than any of its parts. It fits in Regina's mouth perfectly.
"Regina, can I hug you?" Noah asks unsure, tears gently rolling down his cheeks and collecting in the corners of his mouth. He pays attention to the salty taste of his tears to ground him. "I know that's not usually something we do but I think I need to feel something solid right now. I feel like I'm floating, and not in a good way." Noah lets out a nervous chuckle.
"Of course you can hug me, Noah."