As I am suffering from a rather nasty brand of writer's block and a particularly heavy case of bewildering plot conundrums, I decided to take a short break from 'Live as Regina' hoping to clear some confusion I managed to induce in myself. To all 'Live' readers, I am definitely not abandoning that endeavor.
I planned this to be a somewhat, for my terms, short story, but it somewhat escaped from me, ending on the slightly longer note. I wrote it in small chapters, but as I started I could not stop, my resting week in the WiFi-less village being anything but. I will update as soon as I manage to type out chapter by chapter, making small corrections.
Hope you like it...
Enjoy!
After a half an hour spent deliberating before the wrought iron gate in front of the white towering mansion, Emma reached for the knob and opened it, knowing that she was courting quite possibly her death, danger for her limbs at the very least. But, she had to admit, it had been her fault things were the way they were, and a price needed to be paid. If she hadn't done what she did, or if she had tried harder to obey the rules, there would be no need for her to stand there, in fear for her life, cowered and humbled before the mansion of the illustrious Madame Mayor, the former Evil Queen, expecting the woman herself to launch a fireball attack against her. After all, Regina had chased Snow throughout the Realm because of happiness destroyed. What would she do the second time?
Days had gone by since that day everything had changed, and Emma had yet to see Regina. The only connection the woman had with the others was Henry - and the teenage boy was at his wits' end with his mother's cold and unfeeling front that covered deep pain, disappointment and betrayal, and Emma's tremulous and guilty countenance was putting him on edge. And, he had put his foot down that morning, refusing to spend another day in their company until they talk. "She is not sleeping, Emma," he had said as he had watched his blonde mother eat her scrambled eggs for breakfast, ignoring her startled choke caused by his sudden burst. "And, she barely smiles anymore." He, then, had placed his hands on the white surface of the counter, the force of his move making the palms slap against the chipped paint of the wood, refusing to acknowledge Emma's weak rebuttals and whining. "You need to fix this. Do something." The pointed stare he had given Emma, so alike the burning gaze of his adopted mother had been the threat enough for the blonde to shut up and strap on what little of courage she had and direct herself toward the home of the person she had hurt beyond any conceivable point.
And, the worst thing was - she was kind of glad that the scruffy thief walked away from Regina. The woman deserved much better than that wood dwelling criminal. She hadn't forgotten the jealousy that had stricken her at the brilliant smile Regina had sported that morning at the B'n'B. And the scowl she had barely managed to hide at Mary Margaret's comment. She could not but believe that the proud brunette was much better without him in her life.
But, it did not change the fact that Emma did regret the events, if only for putting that sadness and dullness into the brown eyes she knew better than anyone. She was sorry for the pain she had caused. Most of all, she regretted the fact that her name had joined the ever growing list of people who had failed Regina in her life. During their adventures in Neverland, and subsequently the Pan's curse, the two of them had formed a tacit, dared she say, alliance and camaraderie, as they were united in one goal, saving and protecting their son. But, later, when Emma had been brought to Storybrooke to be the Savior once more, the two of them had experienced their relationship shift into something more friendly and fulfilling. The magic practice, the verbal sparring that was comparatively milder than before but much more playful and teasing, the investigation and planning of downfall of the Wicked Witch – it all had brought them closer together, and the evening at Granny's, sharing their dinner and laughing at a story or a teasing joke had not been a rare occurrence. So, when the events of that cursed day enfolded and the revelation of Marian being still alive, Emma had seen the emotional pain it had caused to the woman she cared about, and she had felt it herself as she had watched Regina storm out of the diner.
With a fortifying inhalation of breath, Emma raised her hand and knocked on the door, right beneath the large number 108, listening to the sounds from inside. Shortly, the familiar stride of feet in heels could be heard from the other side of the door, right before the door opened, revealing the mistress of the house herself.
"Can we talk?" Emma spoke after Regina only lifted her eyebrow in demand of the excuse why the Savior was right in front of her door.
"We have nothing to talk about, Miss Swan. Now, vacate my property." Regina spoke curtly and the coldness of her tone could not be mistaken, but the usual fire and defiance was gone, and it saddened Emma greatly. It was strange to see Regina so defeated and resigned. Reaching for the woman, the blonde tried to speak again.
"Regina, please," Emma begged, standing in front of the other woman worrying her hands.
"Please what, Miss Swan? Please listen to you grovel for a few moments and all shall be forgiven? I'll think not." Turning away to close the door, the brunette dismissed the woman before her, slamming the door into the face of the Savior.
For a moment, Emma stood before the closed door, her shoulders hunched in remorse. She lifted her hand again but she did not knock this time. No, it would only serve to infuriate the Mayor further damaging even more their crumbling relationship. She pressed her palm on the polished wood and leaned her head against the hard and cold surface, wishing she could make Regina understand. "I am truly sorry," she spoke against the door, needing to say the words, even though the woman the message was intended for was not there, her voice shaking and quiet. "I never wanted to cause you pain. Far from it." With those words out of her mouth, she straightened up and sighed, her determination clear that even though this particular plan hadn't worked, she would strive to appease the hard ass woman, and possibly get her co-parenting friend back. But, it would seem that there was a long road before her, and Emma affirmed her decision, knowing that she would not stop until Regina was happy again. Her choice, if there was any choice in the matter, already picked, the blonde stepped away from the mansion and walked away, thinking about her next step.
Little she did know that the woman she was trying to apologize to was standing right beside the door, stunned by the quiet words spoken by the Savior and the earnestness in them. And, more, she was surprised by the unconscious bit of remnant magic that the blonde had displayed as she had touched the door. Transference of someone's thoughts and emotions via touch was a hard and difficult piece of magic, and doing it with a barrier in the way, without even realizing it, should have been downright impossible. Especially impossible and beyond realms of imaginable, when the practitioner had been stripped of her magic by another powerful magical practitioner. But the blonde had a knack for doing the impossible, Regina thought, some trace of wryness tingeing her inner voice. Pushing away from the door, she walked into her dining room, her hands automatically reaching for her cider as she tried to muddle through the jumbled confusing piece of weak and tremulous magic she had received.
Emma walked toward her bug and drove herself toward the bed and breakfast, formulating of another way to talk to Regina. She knew that Henry wasn't in their room, but at Mary Margaret's, fawning over his uncle, named after his father. She also knew that he would stay there until Emma fixed his mother, as he had succinctly put that morning. Looking forward to the empty room, she thought about a hot shower before diving in into the intricacies of her plan.
"Hey, Swan!"
Oh, damn it, she was almost in her room. Stopping herself from banging her head on the door, she affixed a false smile and turned around, her mind already working overtime to think of another excuse to escape from her company. But before she could even open her mouth, the pirate came to her, his pale blue eyes narrowed in a fierce scowl as he stared at her, lifting his hook to her chin.
"You've been avoiding me, Swan, and I want to know why." Deftly he reached for the knob behind her and pushed the door open, making her go in as he stepped forward. "No more dodging or fibbing, just give it to me straight, love." Closing the door behind him with his good hand, he looked at Emma, as he leaned against the wood, his countenance clear that she wouldn't be able to leave past him without causing some grave injury.
The blonde looked at him, angry for his nerve to push her in, but at the yearning look in his eyes, she felt all the fight leave her, snuffled out like a candle in the gale. She had been unfair to him, and it was time to fix it. Apparently, it was a time to fix many things. "Killian," she started, but nothing else came out, as she needed to think of a way of telling him the truth. But what was the truth? Did she really know it herself? Pacing in the small space of her room, she tried to speak but each time something would stop her, making her seem like a fish out of water.
"Is this about Neal? Do you need more time?" Hook asked after a while, not wanting to watch her work herself up into frenzy.
"What? No!" Emma exclaimed, her head swiveling to him so fast that she might have given herself a whiplash. "This has nothing to do with Neal. I just…" She sighed as she dropped into one of the arm chairs, bringing her hand to her eyes, annoyed that they were tingling. "I don't think this is working out, Hook."
"I gather, but I want to know why?" He saw something flicker in her eyes, a hidden pain she did not reveal to anyone. He leaned back and thought about the past several days. She had started avoiding him just after the announcement of her brother's name, so he naturally thought that her reluctance to be with him was due to her former love. But, the only other thing that had happened was that thing with Regina and the girl from the past, Marian, was it… Oh. Regina… Of course. He closed his eyes in understanding, as his insides dropped into his feet. "Regina," he said aloud with resignation and watched the color leave Emma's face as the fear of him knowing something filled the green eyes. There always had been something between those two, a tension of sorts. First, it was due to competition, or so he heard. Then, it was the good versus evil thing, and Cora's involvement, in which he had or had not participated. But, then, there was the whole deal in Neverland. He had seen the looks and the understanding that those two had shared. Emma and he might have kissed, but the blonde shared something far more precious with the former Evil Queen on that cursed island. A part of her soul. And then, in the town created by the new curse, the women spent inordinately much time together, working on the case, as the blonde would have said to her teenage son. Hook could wait for her to get over her dead love. He could even prove to her that he wouldn't abandon her or hurt her. But, he couldn't be part of what Regina and Emma shared. He couldn't compete with that, and there was where he realized he had lost her. However, he could not be angry with Emma, for he knew that she hadn't been aware of her feelings for long. In fact, he was absolutely sure that only since that evening she had an idea about her feelings toward the mother of her son.
"How long?" he asked softly, moving away from the door, not able to look at her, somehow knowing that she was looking at him with worried eyes. "How long have you had feelings for her?" He tried to keep his desperation and loss out of his tone, his end result making him sound cold and lifeless. But at least it did not break in the middle of the words. It would be indeed a bad form for a pirate.
"I always had some kind of feelings for her, ever since I came here." Emma rose from her chair, coming closer to him as if he was a wounded animal, her hands in front of her, but her elbows tucked in into her sides. "But, this, I don't know. I am not sure even what this is."
Killian glanced toward her and scoffed gently, amused with her dense behavior even though his heart was breaking. But, such was the nature of love, was it not? You wanted the best for the person you love, even making her see the sense. "Of course you are, love. You are just afraid." He whispered, his hand coming to her, the gentle fingers reaching for suddenly wet cheek. "Just like you were afraid to stay here, with your parents." He drew himself right in front of her, so he could smell her perfume and the ever present scent of coffee and chocolate. "Henry told me about the moping," he added softly, not disappointed by her reaction.
"I don't mope!"
"You feel guilty because of this. But, it is more than that, isn't it? It's like your own heart has been taken out of your chest and crushed before your very eyes?" He continued to speak softly, his words derived rather out of personal experience than his conclusion on her behavior, and Emma seemed to understand that, her eyes growing more sad and sympathetic as she looked into his eyes. "You know what this is. You know why this matters to you so much. And, I understand that." He gently guided her head lower before he kissed her forehead in good bye, for he indeed did understand the pull Emma was feeling toward the former Evil Queen. "I need to clear my head. It would be best if I don't see you for a while, love." Then, he regarded her eyes sadly, seeing the sorrow and apology so clearly in them, that the earnest regret Emma held in her eyes was causing him pain. He needed to leave. However, he would not punish the people around them for their failure. "But, Henry is always welcome to meet me, if he wishes. Good luck." He kissed her one more time, before he quickly walked toward the door and out of the room, disappearing before she could even formulate her own response.
Sinking into the chair that had held her curves just minutes before, Emma shuddered at the storm of emotion that raged against her battered heart. The words the pirate had so wisely spoken reverberated in her mind, bringing forth the headache that had been threatening to appear for days now. What a mess… And this too was her fault, for she was the one who had known that Killian loved her, because Regina of all people had brought it to her attention. She remembered that day as if it was just a day before.
They were talking about Henry when the name of his babysitter came up. With Hook in their conversation, Emma felt the need to defend him to the protective mother in the Mayor.
"Oh, of course he brought you back," Regina said, her scoff evident as she searched through one of the chests in her vault, looking for something to start teaching Emma the magic.
"What's that supposed to mean?" the blonde asked as she placed her hands on her hips, suddenly feeling very defensive.
"Seriously?" Regina spoke with disbelief as she turned to look at Emma, her eyebrows going up in surprise. At Emma's persistent glare and small incline of her head, the brunette continued with exasperation in her tone. "You're going to pretend everyone doesn't see the yearning looks and doe-y eyes?"
"I don't yearn," Emma replied softly but her voice sharp, irritated by the assumption and implication in the woman's voice.
"Well, maybe," Regina replied, focusing onto the woman in front of her, before she pointedly lowered her voice, her whole face involved in accentuation of her speech of the next words, "but, he does." Then she turned back to the chest holding her things, picking up the book of spells, deftly changing the subject as she directed Emma to try to read the Elvish on the page.
Later, actually on the same day of the announcement of the new royal baby, Hook had told her what he had sacrificed to get to her in time, and it was then that Emma had reached for the man, kissing him, flattered beyond measure as she knew what Jolly Roger had meant to him. But, she had known, even then that she did not feel the same way as he did. For her, he had been nothing but a pleasant distraction, a way to spend her days as she had been growing used to having a large family again. However, she had never loved Killian, and now she knew why.
She needed to talk to someone who would possibly be able to help her. Someone who knew and understood Regina in the ways she didn't. Someone, who had known the woman in question when the first loss had occurred. And that someone was her mother, Snow White. Deciding to take a little nap and a shower before meeting with her parents, she sent a text announcing her presence in the afternoon at their loft, telling the new mother that she needed to talk about Regina. A quick and short reply came only seconds after, confirming the date, and then, Emma clambered into the bed, not bothering to take off any of her clothes beside boots, drawing the blanket over her and sinking into a short dreamless sleep.