The inspiration for this came from a very, very dear friend of mine. One I wish I could absolve of every inch of sadness and pain and heartbreak she's ever endured. One who deserves the world and nothing less.
Also, for this, let's just pretend Robin doesn't exist. Oops. Not at all sorry about it. I am sorry for the mention of Hook though.
"I just can't handle a relationship right now," Emma says, eyes dull, voice hollow, face void of any emotion.
Regina feels the anger bubble up within her, feels it burn on her skin, feels it crackle, feels it white and hot and searing.
"You mean you can't handle a relationship with me."
And Emma blinks, surprise filtering through that impassive mask before once again smoothing into indifference. Her eyes had widened just slightly though and her mouth had parted. Caught.
"Yes," Regina sneers, "I know."
And Regina watches Emma's jaw constrict, watches her throat work against a swallow. Her sea-green eyes pierce Regina through with sudden fury.
"You've been spying on me? What the fuck does that say about you, Regina? Jesus." She shakes her head, appalled, golden locks, now lifeless and just as dull as the color in her irises, barely moving with the action.
And Regina's lip curls, eyes flashing, fist balling at her side. She doesn't take a step forward though. She fears she might actually strike Emma and she can't – will never do that.
"I wasn't spying on you," Regina spits the word, face contorting at the nerve, "you were practically showcasing yourself," Regina laughs then, the sound chipped and bitter, "I should have known you'd have no qualms with being taken against a brick wall like a common whore."
And Regina won't, will not, feel any twinge of remorse for the words, she will not. Not even when she sees the quick, ephemeral flash of hurt in Emma's eyes.
She was livid and she had every right to be. Emma had lied to her. Emma had used her, played with her emotions, trailed her along with empty promises and false declarations of love.
Regina hated her in this moment. Truly hated her.
Emma does take a step forward and Regina feels déjà vu, sharp and tangible, ripple through her body.
Because sister you have no idea what I'm capable of.
Regina knew exactly what she was capable of. She was living and breathing proof of what Emma could do to someone.
She could ruin them.
She upends, she destroys, she wrecks. And when she's done? When she's done she tells you it's because she can't handle anything right now. When she's done she stares at you with eyes full of nothing but walls, walls, walls and she makes you go insane with the image. She makes you absolutely crazy.
Emma Swan ruins. And she's absolutely ruined Regina.
"Well, at least when I get rejected I do it with a little dignity," Emma snarls.
Rejected.
Regina feels it like a punch to the gut. She feels it like nails digging into her heart. She feels it and she hates her for it. Hates her because it hurt, because there isn't anyone, has never been anyone, who makes Regina feel more than the woman skewering her through with her revulsion right now.
Regina hates her because she loves her. Because even now she loves her.
Even when she had gone for a walk the other night and had seen her and that pirate in the alley behind Granny's. Even then.
Regina hates her because she will always love her.
"You told me you loved me," she whispers feebly, eyes blurring behind unbidden tears.
Emma's mask falls away again then, her cheek twitching with something Regina doesn't have a name for.
"You held me that night – the night – " Regina sucks in a breath, averts her eyes to the stairwell, wills the wobble in her voice away. She doesn't succeed. "You said you'd never leave me. That you weren't going to give up on us." She flicks her eyes to Emma's then, her anger and her pain weaving together, "you lied to me."
"I'm sorry," Emma says, her voice that hollow, aloof one again, mask firmly in place. Again.
Regina's heartbeat pounds away in her temples, feels two warm trails of tears track down her cheeks.
"You're sorry?" Regina repeats, eyes wide, "you're sorry? Do you – do you even know what you mean to me? Do you even care? Was this all just some game to you? Do you take pleasure in making someone fall in love with you and then ruining them by pretending to feel the same way?"
"Of course I care," Emma bites out, looking downright offended that Regina had even questioned it. "And I never lied to you, I meant every wo - "
"No. No. Don't you dare finish that sentence." Regina points a shaky finger at Emma, voice hoarse and wobbly still and she hates her. "If you meant every word you said to me that night we wouldn't be having this discussion right now. If you meant every word you said to me that night you wouldn't have gone out the next day and fucked the pirate in some dark, germ infested alley. You told me you had ended it with him. You told me you didn't even love him."
"That's because I don't!" Emma yells, actually yells, and Regina jumps at the vehemence laced within it, the spark of emotion, the vein in her forehead, the tears dancing on her eyelids. "I don't love him, Regina. He doesn't mean anything to me," her voice cracks, her own fists clenching and unclenching.
Regina is taken aback by the sudden emotion. She'd started to truly believe Emma felt nothing. That this was easy for Emma, that she felt no compunction in breaking Regina's heart.
She doesn't know how to construe this abrupt display of feeling. Not at all.
Emma fists at her hair and gives a mordant laugh. "I was drunk," Emma breathes, shaking her head, looking completely disgusted with herself. "I was drunk and I was freaked out and I, I didn't know how to handle it. I couldn't – " and there it is, Regina thinks.
"You didn't know how to handle how you felt for me so you got drunk and had sex with your ex. Yes, such a healthy way to deal with emotion, Emma. Tell me, did it help? Did you enjoy it? Was it beneficial to your fragile little heart?" She's apoplectic again, feeling like an utter fool for falling in love with someone so completely immature.
Emma purses her lips and takes in a deep breath.
"Look, just because you're so goddamn sure of your own feelings doesn't mean I am, and I did tell you that. I told you that from the very beginning. You knew who you were getting involved with. Who I am."
Yes, Regina concedes. Yes, that was very much true. She did tell her that and Regina did know.
"That's selfish," Regina says instead of acknowledgement. "That is incredibly selfish and I can't believe you – you know how I love, you know how I am."
"So you're mad at me for loving you?" Emma asks in disbelief. Regina wants to throttle her.
"I'm mad at you for lying!" Regina shrieks. "You told me you loved me and now you're telling me that you're not sure? I'm mad at you for cheating on me, Emma! I'm mad at you for making me feel so much, hurt so much! I'm mad at you for – " but she's about to fissure and she will not openly cry in front of Emma right now. She will not let her see how much this has affected her – even if she had just told Emma as much.
"We weren't – you didn't tell me we were exclusive! We never explicitly said that we were together!"
Regina's head jerks back on her neck, eyeing Emma with incredulity.
"You didn't – " she shakes her head, giving a caustic chuckle. "You are an idiot."
"Wha – "
"You're an idiot," Regina repeats, looking Emma square in the eye. "You're an idiot and you've ruined this for us because of some absurd supposition."
Emma's eyes bug out.
"I've ruined this for us? How is this all – "
"Because I've done nothing but love you, Emma!" Her voice booms about the walls of the foyer and there's a fleeting thought of gratefulness that Henry's not in the house. "Because you're the one who isn't sure how you feel, isn't certain that you want to be with me, you don't even know if you love me and you're aghast that I've laid the blame at your feet?" Regina snorts derisively. "No. You don't get to act like that. You," she points at Emma, eyes blazing, feeling her face heat, "are the one who ended this. Not me."
Emma shakes her head, tears falling with abandon down her pale cheeks now and Regina tries to squash the pang of guilt that threatens to lump in her throat but some of it seeps through and she flares her nostrils at her body's betrayal.
"No, I – " her voice trembles, words catching in her throat. "I do love you," Emma says, watery blue-green eyes tipping up to meet hers. Pleading.
And Regina tenses, muscles going rigid, because no. She is not going to allow this woman to lie to her a second time. No matter how much her heart wants to believe it.
She steels herself, erects another wall around her heart, this one iron, cold, impenetrable.
She ignores the wobble in her knees, the tremble of her hands (she tightens them into white-knuckled balls), the thumping of her heart behind her many barriers. She'd always known she'd have to make one for Emma as well.
Emma who upends. Emma who destroys. Emma who wrecks. Emma who ruins.
She lifts her chin, looks Emma dead in the eye, and with a voice just as dead as the one Emma'd used against her when she first spoke, she says, "maybe you should have figured that out a little sooner," and walks up the stairs, not even sparing a second glance to the woman she hated.
To the woman she loved and will love always.