Note: This is intended to be a corruption story, in which Regina might actually succeed in corrupting Emma. In the very least, I'm slapping a warning on here for violence and lots of sex.

First installment is tame, but if you like light and fluffy, this probably won't be for you in the long run.


Snowflakes fall into Regina's eyelashes, and her teeth chatter unrelentingly. Her bloodied lower lip leaves a coppery taste in her mouth that mingles with the salt of her frozen tears.

She is standing in the middle of the toll bridge, with her hands shoved deep into her pockets and her eyes lifted skyward. The bitter wind has numbed her body, or perhaps it is her own bitterness that causes the numbness. She can no longer feel her fingers, and the circulation to her legs has slowed. Her heart is the only sound she can hear, ticking away like a hidden stopwatch, marking the time that's left in her race. She's realized that she can't run any further, and that she wouldn't want to run, even if she were capable. This is the closest she's ever come to surrender.

Emma darts into the clearing and skids on the ice as she lunges for Regina. She's here to finish what she started, and although she's panting and shaking violently, she manages to pin Regina to the ground. "I trusted you!" she shouts, but her voice is hoarse and strained. "I trusted you after everything you've done, and you betrayed me!"

Regina hits her head on the cement, but maintains consciousness. She's staring up at Emma, but her eyes are vacant and hollow. She has no rebuttal, or smart reply.

"You used me!" Emma cries, her face scrunching up in a mask of grief. "This whole time, you were planning to get rid of me! You wanted to get rid of everyone, so you could have Henry to yourself!"

Regina uses her last stores of energy to push Emma into the snow. "You let me do it! You let me use you!" she spits. "You should have known better—"

For a moment, Emma sits back on her heels, impaired by tears that cloud her vision. Then she throws herself at Regina, brashly and blindly dragging her down by the hair. "Henry is gone now!" she roars. "Your plan cost me my son!"

Regina shrieks in frustration and digs her nails into Emma's throat. She tears through skin until blood seeps into her cuticles, but the blonde retaliates by smacking her across the face.

With a scream, Regina grips Emma by the shoulders, and spins her onto her back. "This ends now," she warns the blonde. "We've lost everything because of this war, and I am tired of fighting with you."

Emma loosens her hold on Regina and lies against the slushy roadway. "What do we do?" she whimpers pitifully.

"You'll come back to my home," Regina decides, and then gets to her feet, dusting herself off. "We have to hope that whatever we've done is reversible. If dark curses and the magic of true love can open up the gateways of existence, then there must be a way to reach Henry. The trick will be finding it in this world where magic is scarce."

Regina extends her hand to Emma and drags her up from the sodden earth.

"Why can't I just undo the spell?" Emma whispers, but her cracked ribs and bone weary exhaustion are harsh reminders of her limitations. The effort of forever closing off the portals could easily have killed her, but she took the risk because of Henry.

Greg was a danger to their homeland, and with his stolen crop of magic beans, he summoned monsters and allies to do his bidding. Banishing him required a power greater than Emma possessed.

Regina likely knew the stakes beforehand, but she underestimated Greg's scorn.

Emma swears to herself that she will never trust Regina's judgment again, but then she recognizes that going home with Regina is itself an act of trust. She limps through the trees and follows the brunette onto the main road, unsure that she has any other option. Her Volkswagen is parked at the forest's edge, and the keys are still in the ignition.

On the drive through the small town of Storybrooke, everything is quiet.

Regina slumps down in the passenger seat, and her eyes flit dully across the landscape. Her lips soak in her own blood, and become chapped from the inclement weather.

The heat has stopped working in the Mills' residence, and as soon as Regina and Emma step into the foyer, Regina begins searching for matches. She lights all of the candles on her coffee table, and the mixed scents fill the air. She gathers blankets from the downstairs closet and offers two to Emma. "Here," she says, with a note of cordiality in her voice. "Take them."

Emma sits across from Regina and studies her in the flickering shadows cast by the candlelight.

Regina's eyes are wet, but her facial expression is unreadable and her posture is stiff. "Emma," she begins, stumbling over the use of the blonde's given name. "…Sometimes the magic of love isn't enough to erase a terrible wrongdoing, or to save your loved ones from an awful fate. Sometimes good magic fails."

"You just told me there was a way to save everyone," Emma snaps, locking her teeth into a combative frown.

"There might be." Regina assures her, swallowing her feelings of uncertainty and distress. "But you have to remember who I am." She keeps her tone even and modulated. "I use dark magic..."

"I don't need a reminder of who you are!" Emma cries out in indignation. "You know, Regina, I understand that life dealt you a rough hand, but in everyway possible, you've made my life a thousand times harder—"

Regina runs her fingertip across the burning wick of a candle. She watches the fire jump and sway. Tears rush to her eyes, but she blinks her blurred surroundings back into focus. "I am sorry," she mutters, though her whole being rejects the apology.

It is not that she finds it impossible to sympathize with Emma, but she will not be accused of starting a blood feud that was centuries in the making.

"… I am sorry that you and your parents seem to be incapable of taking responsibility for your own actions," Regina snarls. "If you hadn't tried to keep Henry away from me, perhaps we could have reached an understanding." She glares at Emma in spite of the darkness. Her silhouette looks grand and imposing against the back wall.

"You kept him away from me when I first got here!" Emma huffs, breathing only through her mouth. "We've both made mistakes. I'm not blaming you for everything…"

Regina abruptly stands up and closes in on Emma, until their faces are almost touching. "No one is innocent," she informs the blonde, because this is the first lesson she must teach her if they are going to save Henry. "Everyone causes someone else pain. It's better to accept that fact than to deny it. If you don't recognize what you've done – if you choose not to acknowledge it – well, that's the greater evil. That means you're oblivious. That means you could care less."

"I – know - what suffering I've caused you," Regina spits.

Emma's eyebrows turn inward when Regina invades her personal space, but she never flinches away or shows a sign of fear. "I'm…sorry—" she stutters.

"I don't want to hear your apologies," Regina stoically replies.

"We need to come up with some kind of plan," Emma whispers, after a moment of silence. She's taken a sudden interest in the floorboards, and her cheeks are flushed, even though she is chilled.

"I have a plan," Regina tells her. "But it will lead you down a path that no one wants to take…"