Do you remember me? / Lost for so long / Will you be on the other side / Or will you forget me?
Knives were never Emma's forte. Never to cook, never as a weapon. Her hand shook, and she half expected tears to start streaming down her face, just like the movies. But she didn't cry. She hadn't cried during any of it.
In a hazy train of thought, her mind traveled through hundreds of thoughts and memories; all the abusive foster homes, starving on the streets, her journey into bounty hunting, the strange boy showing up her her apartment claiming to be her son, and eventually...
Regina.
The days they spent at each other's throats were the happiest Emma could ever remember being. The day she took a chainsaw to the mayor's apple tree was the moment she noticed the undeniable chemistry and tension between them, and she tried to stifle it. Days became week became months, and enemies to co-parents to allies to friends to...
It was Regina who made the first move.
A few days after Marian was brought back. It full of anger and frustration, the salt of the brunette's tears mixing into the roughness of the kiss, and it had sparked something inside Emma that made her lose whatever sanity she had left. While it was powerful and filled with a battle for dominance, she could feel a tenderness behind it that was extremely unexpected, and judging by the split-second startled look in her eyes right before biting down on the sheriff's lip, Regina felt it too. It was pushed away when she curled her fingers around the blonde's hips and coaxed her roughly towards the bedroom. It was violent, to say the least, a desperate attempt to stop feeling for a night, not just for Regina, but for Emma as well. But as much as they tried, neither of them could shake the knowledge that meaningless sex didn't feel like that.
They haven't spoke about that night since, but their behavior after it raised questions throughout the town.
They constantly looked out for each other, their bickering sounding less like fighting and more like banter, and even as things with the ice queen moved on, neither of them could manage to be without the other.
Snow had tried to question her daughter about it, but we shut down quickly with a "Geez, she's Henry's mother. We have to be nice to each other for his sake. I promised him I'd protect her." Both knew that that was far from the truth, but Emma's mother didn't push.
She continued to watch her more closely, though. She noticed how the blonde would sneak out in the middle of the night, returning a few hours later, smelling of sweet perfume and apples. Mary Margaret had tried to hint that she knew, that Emma's caring looked a little more than friendly, but the words never came out. It was frustrating to say the least, so she stuck to subtle eyes and gestures.
'We' were worried about you.
No one noticed the nod. Not even Emma. She started to go off on the mayor, and the Charmings could only watch. Snow felt the pirate next to her shift, and she could feel his skepticism and jealousy almost pouring off of him. She'd never seen him so quiet, and she knew that if Hook was feeling it, it was more serious than she thought.
For Emma, it was difficult to break Regina's wall, Emma was finding, but after the ice fiasco, the Queens of Darkness entered the town, pushing the two even close together.
Hell, Emma even tracked the other woman's phone once.
But now, now she doesn't know what to do.
She tried to save her. She really did. Her guilt ate her alive everyday since. She had the chance to take it, keep it from taking Regina, but she was a coward. Her parents were cowards. Her boyfriend was a coward, and now, the woman who once was a quiet, sweet girl, the one who had become the Evil Queen, and the powerful mayor, and then Henry's loving mother, was just a ghost.
Her heart had shattered on impact when the darkness entered her, the earth beneath them shaking, throwing people off their feet and others scrambling in fear.
No one expected what had happened.
The apprentice lied.
He fucking lied.
Emma shut her eyes tight, the blade slowly sliding over smooth, pale skin. She winced, the sudden pain sinking it's way into her system, but slowly gave way to a comfort she didn't understand.
Everyone lied.
They said it wouldn't kill her. It said it wouldn't kill, just drain. Just take away her love. Not her life. Now there's no way to fix her, and that darkened Emma to the core. The loss she felt was unlike anything she's ever felt before. She couldn't handle the constant tug at her chest, and constant threat of snapping, constantly having to watch her son, their son, break down into nothing.
Henry hadn't left his room in days.
Emma knows she has to keep strong for him. She's managed to get food up to him, knowing that he's eating it, that he's still alive. She talks to him through the door, not getting any replies but soft cries that he thinks is falling on deaf ears.
It makes her nauseous, to see him like that. To see a normally strong, brave, loving boy fall apart in front of her eyes.
She can be strong for him.
I can be strong.
I can be strong with long sleeves.
She hardly noticed the red drops that spilled onto the floor. The feeling brought a kind of euphoria that was indescribable. It did what alcohol did for her, but on a different scale. She picked a different spot, opting a little lower down, closer to the wrist. She likes cheating death. She liked teasing it, knowing that it wants her but will not have her. Not yet.
"You already took her. You won't get me..." she said into nothing as she cut a little deeper this time. A wash of relief hit her like she had hit Storybrooke's sign, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Eyes closed now, she did the only thing she could think of; prayed. She prayed for Regina to come back. She prayed to join her. She prayed that the more blood loss she had, the better she would feel. She even prayed for the blood not to stain Regina's white tile floor. Emma could hide this. This is how she was strong. She could hide her emotions for others.
Her eyes flitted open, a sigh escaping her lips. She was about to clean herself up, both physically and emotionally when a small, broken sob echoed through the kitchen.
"Mom?"
She whipped around, eyes landing on what used to be her bright-eyed boy. His body wracked in sobs, tears gracing his cheeks.
Her stomach shifted.
She wasn't strong.
She was as weak as everyone else.
A/N: Another sad one shot! Go figure! Sorry for this one. It definitely hurt to write... I hope you liked it tho! No beta, so excuse mistakes, and I don't own 'em.