A/N: This story goes AU around 1x09, anything after that is ignored (although I might use some arcs or events in my own way). Also, August won't be joining us for this one, at least not like when did in canon.
The rating will probably get changed to Mature eventually, but at least for now I'll keep it at T.
Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it! Reviews are greatly appreciated :)
"See you after school, Henry," Regina said softly, watching as her son was getting ready to leave.
The only response she got was the front door slamming shut, the sound echoing throughout the large mansion.
It wasn't anything new that her son left for school each morning without so much as a mumbled goodbye, but the fact that it had been like this for more than two weeks did nothing to lessen the pain. She sighed and walked over to the kitchen to clean up after breakfast.
After Emma Swan's death, things had gotten even worse between Regina and her son. He had immediately accused her of having a hand in killing Emma, as soon as he learned of the accident. Nothing had been able to convince him of her innocence, neither the police report nor the autopsies.
"You killed her!" Henry shouted.
"Henry, I had nothing to do with this. The driver didn't see her–"
"No, you did this, I know you did," he continued, struggling to hold back his tears. "You rigged the car, or– or did something to the driver."
"Henry, please! It was an accident."
"You're lying! You're always lying and you knew the only way to stop Emma from seeing me and breaking the curse was to kill her," he yelled, his voice cracking at the end as tears flowed freely down his cheeks.
"I didn't have anything to do with it," she insisted, unable to hold her own tears back. She could feel her son slipping away – again – and there was nothing she could do about it. "I promise you, I didn't kill her."
"Why should I believe you? You're evil," he spat. "You can't love, you can't feel anything and I hate you."
Those last three words were firmly ingrained in her mind; she heard them every time Henry looked at her, loathing and disgust filling his eyes.
He did have a point, though. Why should he believe her? In his mind, she was still the Evil Queen from his book: a heartless monster reveling in the pain of others, killing for the sake of killing. Why should he trust that this time, she had nothing to do with it when so many other times her hands had been coated with the blood of others? Why should he, especially when she had made it completely clear from the very beginning that she wanted Emma gone?
Regina didn't know what was the greatest irony: the fact that she had gotten rid of her son's birth mother by, quite literally, accident, or the fact that even posthumously, Emma managed to take Henry away from her.
Drawing a shaky breath, she took off and hung up her apron, angrily wiping away a few errant tears. She felt weak and powerless and she hated it. Love was weakness, her mother had told her, and she was all too aware of how true that statement was.
The sky was as gray as asphalt as Regina walked to work, not bothering to hurry when she knew nothing of importance waited for her there. The wind felt refreshingly chilly as it blasted her skin and ruffled her hair, letting her forget about her troubles for a moment as she enjoyed the feeling.
She walked on auto-pilot, not really aware of what path she'd taken until she suddenly realized exactly where she was. A sense of dread washed over her as her eyes flitted over the black tire mark on the street. She hadn't been here since the day Emma died, always taking different routes wherever she was going.
A part of her wanted to turn around and flee, taking another way to work, but she forced herself to ignore it. Still, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the street as she recalled what had happened there. The memories were as clear as if they were only hours old.
Regina was walking briskly to work, her heels striking a quick beat against the pavement. Her beloved Mercedes had refused to start and she'd had to call the tow company to get it to the auto shop.
Passing by Dr. Hopper, out walking his dog, she replied to his cheerful greeting with a barely audible muttered "good morning". The morning was anything but good.
A flash of red in the corner of her eye made her shift her gaze to the opposite side of the street. It was, of course, Emma Swan in that horrible leather jacket of hers, taking a morning walk with Ms. Blanchard. As soon as she'd seen them, Emma met her gaze and shouted something.
Regina sighed and barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Could the day get any worse?
"Regina!" Emma called out, leaving her friend behind as she hurried over the street towards Regina. "I need to talk to you."
Regina reluctantly stopped, knowing exactly how persistent Emma would be should Regina try to avoid her. "Ms. Swan–"
Then suddenly, several things happened almost at the same time, too quickly for anyone to react. The screech of rubber against asphalt. The loud crash of a body hitting metal and glass. A body tossed like a rag doll, landing hard on the ground. A car slamming straight into a tree nearby, coming to an abrupt halt.
For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.
And then, Mary Margaret's anguished scream, "Emma!" as she ran to the battered body in the middle of the road.
Regina followed her without thinking, only vaguely aware of the other people around her. Emma was lying on her back, legs and arms in odd angles and blood pooling around her body. Their eyes locked and Emma reached for her, trying to say something, but no words came out past her bloodied lips.
There was fear in Emma's eyes as tears streamed down her face and it shook Regina more than Emma's injuries ever could. Emma had always seemed somewhat untouchable, always rebounding and fighting back without fear. To see terror written all over the face of the purported Savior was unsettling, to say the least.
Emma blinked once, twice, looking as if she was trying to get up... and then nothing.
She was officially declared dead on the scene when the ambulance arrived, minutes later.
"Madame Mayor?"
Regina blinked and pulled her gaze away from the spot on the street that she had been staring at. For how long had she been standing there?
"Dr. Hopper. Good morning," she greeted him with a forced smile, trying to regain her composure.
He shot a look at the street. "Hard to believe it's been more than two weeks now, isn't it?"
"Time goes on, doctor. There isn't much you can do about it."
"Of course," he agreed, somewhat absentmindedly.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Regina asked, "was there anything else?"
Archie let out a quick breath, steeling himself. "I just want you to know, that if there's any time you need to talk about what happened–"
"I'm not in need of any therapy," she snapped, almost adding "cricket" at the end.
"I was there, Madame Mayor, and you and Mary Margaret were even closer. You watched a person die," he insisted. "It's nothing to be ashamed of to be affected by that in some way, no matter how you felt about her."
"I suggest you offer your services to people who need them. I don't. I'm sure Ms. Blanchard would appreciate it, though. She's always been a sensitive person," Regina practically sneered. "Good day, Dr. Hopper."
Entering Granny's Diner a few hours later, Regina was relieved to find that it was fairly empty, despite it being lunchtime. It wasn't all that much of a surprise, though, seeing how the sheriff's death had put a dampener on everyone's mood in the small town. She sat down at one of the tables, satisfied that she wouldn't be bothered by irritated constituents and their petty concerns.
"Madame Mayor," Ruby greeted her, "I haven't seen you in here since–" She faltered, her face falling. She quickly forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and continued, "for a while. What can I get you?"
"A Caesar salad and a glass of water, please."
"Coming right up," Ruby chirped a little too cheerfully to be believable, spinning on her heel and sauntering off to another customer. She looked like she'd always done, but a part of her – that spark of hers – was missing.
There were a few other faces in the diner that Regina recognized. Of course there was Leroy who sat on one of the bar stools and looked as grumpy as always. In one of the corner booths, Albert Spencer sat, his focus solely on the newspaper in front of him.
What caught Regina's attention, however, was the brunette sitting at one of the middle tables. Mary Margaret was mindlessly stirring the contents of her cup with her spoon, staring off into the distance with dull, unseeing eyes. Of the few people that had witnessed the accident, she had definitely taken it the worst. She was a shell of her former self, the light in her eyes completely extinguished.
It was ironic, really. Regina should have been happy; she should have been rejoicing in her enemy's misery, seeing how Mary Margaret had finally broken. But it didn't help; it didn't do anything for Regina when the problems with her son overshadowed everything else. The one time her enemy lost, she couldn't even enjoy the victory.
Perhaps it was true what Henry had said, that Emma had come here to bring back everyone's happy ending... even Regina's?
She scoffed mentally at the preposterous idea. Emma Swan had been a menace and Regina was sure that had she not died, Emma would still have found a way to try to take Henry away.
The bell over the door sounded as Kathryn Nolan entered, her face brightening a bit as she found Regina sitting there.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked with a tentative smile, pulling off her gloves.
Regina had been looking forward to eating her lunch alone, but she had to admit that Kathryn was acceptable company. "Please," she replied with a reserved smile and gestured for Kathryn to sit down.
After Ruby had come over and taken her order, Kathryn leaned forward on her elbows, fixing Regina with an unreadable look. "We haven't spoken much these last weeks. How are things with you?"
"They're fine," Regina replied tersely. "I'm fine."
"Look, Regina," Kathryn began, putting her hand over Regina's, "we're friends. You don't have to act like nothing's out of the ordinary with me. Just... talk to me. Okay?" Her smile was faint but hopeful.
Regina stayed silent for a few moments and then sighed. It couldn't hurt to talk to a... friend, could it? "It's difficult, at times. Dr. Hopper pesters me whenever he can and Henry is certain that I had something to do with her death. He won't even talk to me," she added in a quiet voice, finding it increasingly difficult to say it out loud.
"He just misses her," Kathryn assured Regina and squeezed her hand gently, "we all do."
Regina scoffed.
"Oh please, like you don't miss her even a little bit?" Kathryn teased with a smirk. "She kept you on your toes."
Regina rolled her eyes. "Emma Swan was a pain and a menace," she said, but without as much of a sting as she usually said it. Eager to change the topic, she continued, "how are you? How is it going with David?" She managed to keep her fairly friendly smile up even as she mentioned David's name.
"Oh." Kathryn ducked her head, a wistful look playing in her eyes. "I'm... I don't know. He says he wants to make our marriage work, but in reality he's pining. These last two weeks, he's almost been as depressed as Mary Margaret. Doesn't take a genius to figure out why."
"I'm sorry," Regina offered, unsure of how to best respond.
Kathryn leaned back with a shrug. "Yeah, well, I still love him. I'm just– at some point it stops being worth it, you know? At some point you just have to stop pretending and let him go," she said with a sad smile.
"I suppose so," Regina mumbled.
The evening came quickly that day, nothing at work noteworthy enough to remain in her memory. Regina sat in the living room, nursing a glass of whiskey. She took another swig of it, reveling in the burning sensation as the liquid traveled down her throat. She let out a soft sigh and regarded the glass in her hand with blank eyes. Drinking wasn't enough – she knew that all too well – but it did help to some extent.
After seeing the place of the accident again that morning, all the memories and thoughts that she had worked so hard to bury were back, plaguing her whenever her mind wasn't occupied with something.
She should have seen the car. Someone should have seen the car. Ms. Blanchard, Dr. Hopper, Emma, anyone.
Her knuckles whitened from the tightened grip on her glass as her frustration rose to the surface. She had all but completely lost her son and there wasn't anything she could think of that could bring him back to her, nothing that could make him love her again. Love was fleeting – just like her mother had said – and now it had left her twice.
A sudden banging on the door tore her out of her thoughts, making her flinch and spill whiskey on the carpet. With a few muttered curses, she got to her feet and walked over to the door, wondering who would bother her this late.
She opened the door, ready to give whoever it was a piece of her mind. Seeing who it was, however, all Regina could do was stare at the woman in front of her. Long blonde curls flowed down past the woman's shoulders onto her red leather jacket, a jacket that was scraped and dirty, sporting several cuts and gashes that had been patched and sewn together.
"Regina."
Regina gasped, her eyes wide, and took a few unsteady steps back. "Emma," she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Yeah, hey," Emma responded, her brows shooting up in surprise at Regina's odd behavior. "I just came back and wondered if I could see Henry. Just, like, to say hi. Haven't talked to him in two weeks, you know?" She looked a little sheepish, hands shoved down her pockets, but Regina didn't notice any of it.
"You're– you're here?" It was quiet, more like a thought spoken aloud than an actual question.
"Obviously." Emma narrowed her eyes, giving Regina a scrutinizing look. "What's going on?"
Before Regina had time to respond, she heard her son's voice right behind her.
"Emma?" he said, sounding like he couldn't quite believe his eyes.
"Hey, kid–," Emma begun before Henry rushed over to her and flung himself into her embrace.
"It's really you," he exclaimed, pulling her close.
"Who else would I be?" Noticing the sobs tearing through Henry's body, she continued in a softer voice, "what's the matter, Henry? I was just gone for two weeks."
"I thought you were dead," he mumbled into her jacket.
"Wait, what?" Emma frowned, eyes shifting between Henry and Regina. "You thought I was dead? Like, I had died?"
Henry simply nodded, his sobs turning into soft sniffs as he finally let go of Emma.
"Why would you..." She trailed off, meeting Regina's bewildered eyes. "You told him I'd died?"
Regina opened her mouth as if to speak, but between the shock of seeing Emma alive and well and an indeterminate amount of alcohol in her blood, her thoughts were a jumbled mess.
"What the hell, Regina?"
Swallowing, Regina tried her best to regain what little composure she could. "I think you should leave now, Ms. Swan," she said, unable to hide the quaver in her voice.
"You really think I'd let you–"
"Now, Ms. Swan," Regina said as sharply as she could muster, feeling panic slowly taking over. It was too much, too fast and she couldn't even begin to make sense of it. "We'll both still be here tomorrow."
For a moment, Emma looked like she was going to object, but seeing how tired both Regina and her son looked, she changed her mind. "Fine. You'll be okay, kid?" she asked Henry to which he nodded. "Okay. I'll be back tomorrow. This isn't over, Regina, not even close," she warned. With that, she turned on her heel and left.
Regina's hand was shaking as she closed the door. Emma was alive. She was alive and yet she looked like she was wearing the same jacket that she had worn during the accident. The accident where she had died. It wasn't possible, and yet unless Regina was hallucinating, both she and Henry had seen the impossible happen. How had Emma been able to do what Regina had tried and failed to do so many times over? How had she been able to cheat death?
When she came out of her thoughts, Henry had already gone back to his bedroom, thankfully without asking any questions. With heavy steps, her hands still shaking, she headed up the stairs to her own bed. Sleep wouldn't come easy, that much she was sure of.