Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT.
A/N: I really have no idea where this came from. It kind of just wrote itself.
Will this never end?
Emma huffs and slams her bedroom door behind her, aggravated at the world for existing. She can't understand why someone would sneak around town and steal sentimental items, or why she still hadn't caught the thief by now. Those who had been targeted didn't help her mood, complaining that she wasn't doing her job correctly.
She leaps onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow before she releases a long string of expletives before finally sighing and rolling onto her back. Staring at the ceiling had become her favorite thing to do, allowing her to ignore the problems that would await her outside of this room. The only thing she wants is silent peace.
However, a thought nags the back of her mind and she retrieves her phone from her pocket, scrolling through her contacts and hovering her thumb over the Talk button. She isn't sure she should connect the call, but before she can change her mind, she presses the button, raising the device to her ear.
Ring...Ring...Ri-"You have reached the voicemail of..."
As expected, her call is unanswered, but she doesn't hang up. Instead she waits for the beep, her heart beating just slightly faster, her stomach twisting anxiously. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, the words spilling from her, as thick as molasses. "Hey, Regina...it's me." Pausing, she hesitates. "I don't know why I thought you would answer for me this time; you never really answered your phone for me unless I called you a half dozen times because of an emergency. But this isn't an emergency.
"I'm just really having a rough day, you know? I guess it's been more than just today though. This has been going on for a while and I think I'm slowly going insane. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You would have a reason to get rid of me; maybe you'd lock me up under the hospital like you did with Belle, except you might have me in a straightjacket.
"Then again, you would probably want to watch as the sheriff gradually loses her mind, making a total fool of herself and losing touch with reality. What am I saying? I'm talking to you voicemail as if you can actually hear me. I guess it's already happening.
"How did you ever manage to do this? How was it possible for you to run an entire town, after running a whole kingdom and torturing others, after renaming so many people and giving them lives that I didn't even know you had the power to create. That amazes me, that you could come to another world and just...fit in. But it begs the question of whether you actually did fit in, of whether you really knew what things were here or if you had to learn. I'm trying to imagine you learning to drive a car for the first time...
"I'm sorry, I got distracted. I just don't think I can do this, trying to keep people from wreaking havoc. That was your thi-"
Beep.
The blonde sighs and disconnects the call, setting her cell phone on the bed and rolling onto her side, her eyes focused on the wall until it becomes a blur and fades to black.
Two weeks pass, the mystery solved and a self-claimed guilty August behind bars. Emma sits at her desk at the station, frowning at the man asleep on the cot in the holding cell, before her eyes slip to the clock on the wall. She knows Henry is waiting at home for her, most likely concerned about the distance she's gradually been putting between herself and the rest of the town over the past month, but she isn't ready for the inevitable intervention and speech that he needs her because she's his mother.
And before she knows it, he'll suggest that she talks to Archie about whatever issues she's struggling with because that's what she needs, to slowly twist the top off of the bottle that's been shaken inside of her, careful to prevent an explosion.
There's no running from the disaster that's sure to come.
Groaning in frustration, the sheriff stands and grabs her keys, leaving the station. As she had predicted, Henry is waiting for her at the kitchen table, his eyes full of worry when he stands so quickly that his chair tilts over and crashes to the floor. He ignores it, staring at his mother and searching for any hint that she'll brush him off. When he finds none, aside from how she noticeably tenses under his gaze, he speaks. "Mom, what's going on with you lately? You're here...but you're not."
And she wonders why he's stronger than she is, how he could possibly be able to enjoy his life, while she suffers and struggles to make it alive through each and every day. But she doesn't ask him, instead meeting the sixteen year old's eyes and exhaling, taking a seat at the table. He picks up his chair and sits in it, waiting patiently for her response, but after a few silent moments, she stands and goes to her bedroom. Closing and locking the door behind her, she leans against it, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs.
Would he understand?
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she slips her phone from her pocket and opens her recent contacts, not hesitating to call Regina this time. The phone rings before the voicemail picks up and she sighs, knowing this time would be no different than any other. "It's been two weeks since I last left you a message and I have to admit that I'm wondering if I should bother to leave you messages when I know you won't pay them any mind. It seems to be a waste of time, doesn't it?
"Anyway...I guess you should know that I finally figured out the problem I told you about. It's a little hard to believe it was August, but I suppose even those who seem innocent are capable of committing crimes.
"Life isn't any easier. I wish...I wish you would just pick up your phone and answer me. Everything would be so much better, even if you just insulted me. But you won't even do that for me. After all that we've been through, you won't allow me one thing." She frowns before continuing, fighting back the tears her shaky voice threatens to reveal. "I love you and I know you love me too. Why are you being so selfish?!"
Disconnecting the call, she throws her phone against the wall with a fuck! and ignores Henry's questions of her well-being through the door. She curls into a ball with a pillow hugged close to her chest and allows the tears to fall.
When it all falls down and you know you can't get out.
The next morning, Henry practically begs his mother to talk to him, barely giving her a moment to protest before he finally grabs her wrist and drags her outside. Ignoring the curious glances by those they pass, he pulls her to the cemetery, stirring a particular dread in the blonde's chest. As they approach their destination, the boy glances at Emma, releasing her wrist.
Her feet refuse to obey her thoughts to run and step closer to the headstone her son has brought her to visit. "You've been calling her again," he says quietly, his words swept away into the breeze. "I heard you on the phone last night...You've been letting the rest of us go." He sighs and places his hand on the stone. "She won't listen to us, Mom." With a sad smile, he leaves to give Emma her peace.
Emma kneels, her fingers tracing lightly over the letters etched in the stone. Mayor, mother, wife... "It hurts, Regina. I shouldn't be suffering. It's been five years, but it feels as though it were yesterday when you kissed me before leaving for work that morning. When I got that call...life has been hell for me ever since." She closes her eyes. "I miss you."