Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time is owned by people who are not me.
That's the second time you've saved my life now; once in the fire, and now this. As if I needed any more reasons to be in your debt. When you cried my name and pushed me from the wraith's path I was only aware of two things. The first was Henry, simply because he's my son and I'm always aware of him, especially if he might be in danger. The second was the sound of your voice as you shouted my name. It's taken me three days since you've been gone to realise that the sound in your voice I found so strange was fear. For years I'd become accustomed to my name being said in fear, had even relished it at one point or another, so to hear someone shout my name in fear that was for my safety, well, it took me by surprise.
You have a habit of doing that. And for the most part, I don't take too well to surprises; certainly not to you coming into town and certainly not to you deciding to stay. But I knew who you were, so it shouldn't have surprised me when you decided to overstay your welcome.
I can honestly say you're exactly what I expected and at the same time not at all. You're good, sickeningly good, despite a less than rosy childhood and whether or not you believe it yourself. You're strong, physically and mentally, like I suppose any child of Snow White and Prince Charming would be, loathe though I am to admit it. But you're also like me in some ways, and to have common ground with the daughter of Snow disgusts me at the same time as it fills me with a bitter sense of satisfaction.
Loneliness. It's one of the most obvious things about you, apart from your love for Henry and your thinly veiled suspicion of me. At one time or another I imagine you've felt as alone as I have, though with the curse broken, I doubt you'll ever feel that way again. That is, if you make it out of wherever the hell you are.
Or if you're even alive at all.
I don't know what it would do to Henry if you haven't survived. It used to itch at my skin, the way he took to you so quickly, and to see the smile that lit up his face when you would visit reminded me of the resentment I used to feel for your mother. Sometimes it still does, but I learnt to detach myself from those moments with the knowledge that the curse was intact, you had no legal rights to him, and I had all the time in the world to fix things with him. I'm not sure if any of those things still apply now. The first certainly doesn't.
If you're gone, I'm not sure anything between Henry and I could be salvaged. The night of you and Snow being pulled into the portal, he told me he didn't understand why you would save me. Why the saviour would push me out of danger's way when everyone finally knew who I truly was. What could I tell him, when I was wondering the same thing? Is it just your innate goodness that makes you save me, like an inherent reflex that just doesn't allow someone like you to leave someone vulnerable? Or do you actually want to?
Of course you don't.
When I told Henry that you saved me because that's just what heroes do, it tasted like acid coming from my mouth. You should have seen the pride emanating from him for you, his mother, the hero of the tale. His small voice, telling me he was happy that you did save me, is the only thing that's given me hope that my relationship with him can be mended.
But if you've died pushing me to safety instead of jumping there yourself, I might just find a way to kill you again myself.
Henry is my happy ending, so I need you to be alive. For him, and I suppose for me as well in turn, I need you to come home.
And leave Snow in Fairytale Land, if you could.
–Henry wouldn't like that thought.
I'm not doing magic, you know, even though I can practically feel it slithering down my throat every time I breathe. It's in the air now, sitting heavy on my skin, and the scent of it pulls me back to black corsets and towering castles and the overwhelming feeling of power that came with magic as advanced as mine was. But Henry has asked me not to – he thinks he's going to save me.
Maybe he is. Or change me in the very least.
For every day magic is here in Storybrooke and every day that passes since the curse was broken I feel more and more like my old self. Though he's not living with me now, I try to spend as much time as I can with Henry, just to keep me grounded in this reality. The fact that I want to stay grounded gives me hope too; the old Regina would never have considered change.
And if there is one person in this world or another who can change me, it's Henry.
If there was another, I think it would be you. I'm not entirely sure why.
A small part of me has a clue – the same part of me, I think, that spends time thinking of the sort of love I once had with Daniel. That said, I'm under no pretence or conviction that what I feel for you is love. It isn't. It's more just that you're there and I imagine you always will be. Henry is ours in a way, so if I were to conceive a future of mine and see him there, I think I would see you too.
I do feel for you though, in a way I'm not sure I can even describe. In these moments since you've been gone when I think about you – and there are more of them than you would think – my gut feels an acute sense of something. I don't want to call it loss, the word has too much meaning attached to it, but you're not there anymore. Not here. You've been a constant thorn in my side since you came to Storybrooke and now you're gone. I guess I'd gotten used to you.
In the same moments, I also imagine your return; envisage the arguments I know we'll have about Henry, and what I did to your parents, and probably what I did to you as well. I know I took away your childhood and your family, but while whatever good remains in me knows to feel regret over doing that to an innocent child, it did all lead to Henry, and how can I possibly regret that.
Besides, the only thing vaguely princess about you is your looks, and though I wouldn't dream of telling you this, I imagine you would have made a strong and beautiful queen one day, if I'd let you. As you are now, well, I think you would have been far more comfortable living and working on a farm, much like your father used to, than attending to royal formality and ceremony.
It does puzzle me, though, why you're in my thoughts so often. Yes, you are intrinsically linked with Henry's happiness at the moment, but I've dreamt of you these past two nights. In the first, you and the rest of the town tied me to my apple tree, your father's sword in your hand as you threatened me and Henry shunned me. The second was different, less obvious, and most of it has evaded me now. All I recall is that it was just you and I in the kitchen of my home and I woke up crying.
Another thing I will never tell you.
I'm seeing Henry tomorrow morning, and as he has every time I've seen him in the past three days, he will ask me if I've figured out a way to get you home. Apparently the Evil Queen should be well versed in travelling between universes. It's nice though, having him trust me enough to find a way to get you back home. My resources are severely limited in this world, but with the help of Rumplestiltskin, I think we can find a way to bring you home.
And since I am devoting virtually all of my time to bringing you back, you better not be dead, Miss Swan. Henry needs you, and I'll be damned if I let you die because you saved my life.
Idle threats aside, the truth is I don't think you're dead at all. I think you're too stubborn to die and leave Henry in my care. And if there's one thing I've learnt about you since you came to Storybrooke, it's that you are exactly who the stories said you would be.
I believe you were made to save people, Emma. Even people like me.
A/N: Hi there. I haven't written in quite a while, and this was more an exercise to get the writing juices flowing again, so I can work on another Swan Queen story I'm writing. If you have any pointers or words of encouragement, please let me know.