Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, the premise of the show or the show itself. I'm only writing for personal and creative reasons. Enjoy, don't sue.

A/N: For those who clicked on this piece and are reading Heart shaped anchor, despair not. This is a piece that is almost complete that I have been working on since before I started writing that other fic. I was forever tweeking, though, and didn't want to post it yet.

Not saying it is perfect now, but I think it is time to let my baby off into the world. Hope you guys enjoy.

Review, comment, follow, favorite. :D

The consequences of despair

Chapter 1

There is a woman standing in front of a ornate mirror. Her dress shimmers, reflecting the poor light of a fading day. Her back is straight, her arms entwined around each other, hands clasped in front of her. Soft, brown hair cascades down her back, long and softly billowing in the wind that dances and twirls around her from the open window. She is calm, she is still, she is a million miles away, though her eyes seem fixed upon her own reflection.

A single tear falls down her cheek, undisturbed by brushing hands. It rolls down a cheekbone, curving to follow the delicate features of her beautiful face. Something is wrong, though. The tear leaves a dark track in its path and reflects in the pale light a dark red. Blood.

The woman finally moves, her brow furrowing and her hand moving up to catch the wayward tear before it can continue in its journey down. She stares at the red now staining her fingertips and looks back up. The her that stands there and stares back at her can offer no answers and she is prevented from thinking about it as a voice echoes in the dark.

"Mother?"

xxxxxxxxx

The bright sun shone upon her face and Snow turned away from it's offending light, sleep still clinging to her brain. Her eyes slowly opened and a yawn escaped her before she could consciously think about suppressing it. The world around her was a bit blurry, so she blinked several times, willing the shapes and colours to come into focus.

"Snow?"

A kiss warmed her lips and she found herself smiling. "Good mourning, Charming..."

"Rise and shine, sweetheart. Emma and Henry are making breakfast and I'm really scared to see the result", he whispered against her lips. His scared tone was lost, though, by the sparkling love shining in his wonderful eyes. And who could blame him, after all those years of little things and big things completely lost to the past, to have this simple moment of family time.

"Uh, oh… Should we brave this? I'm not sure I have enough strength for such a task, my King." He chuckled, as she knew he would and used his own momentum getting up to pull her upper body off the bed.

Snow White groaned, still feeling much too lazy to face getting up. It had seemed but a moment since she had closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. The feeling would pass, though. It was only a matter of setting the gears going and coffee… Lots and lots of coffee.

Fifteen minutes later and Snow was showered, dressed and coming down the stairs of her small, loft apartment. Her husband was sitting by the counter, next to her grandson, Henry, and they were both trying desperately not to laugh at Emma's attempt at breakfast.

"Need so help, honey?"

"Uh… No. I'm getting the hang of this", the blonde replied stubbornly, eyes shifting over the mess she had managed to make out of the pancake batter. At least, Snow thought that was supposed to be pancake batter.

Holding in a smile of her own, she showered kissed all around and found a seat for herself by the counter, next to Henry.

"You know, mom always starts mixing the liquids first. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to drop the eggs straight into the flour…", Henry's face is bright and open and he doesn't notice how the adults around him pause at the mention of his adoptive mother, Regina. It would make sense for him to mention her, of course; she was his mother for over 10 years. But they always found themselves uncomfortable when he said something simple that reminded them that Regina had in fact been a mother to him.

"Yeah, well… Seems a bit late for that piece of advice, kid. Warn me beforehand next time", Emma jokingly scolded him and the tension was lost in the air.

And just like that, Snow was reminded of her strange dream and her stepmother.

"You know, Henry… I dreamt about Regina last night", she said. Her tone ended up being a bit more serious and less amusing as she had meant it to sound.

"Really?". Henry didn't seem particularly comfortable with her comment and Snow could have guessed why. It must have been difficult for a boy to hear people badmouthing his mother, even if he did the same on occasion.

"Yeah… Actually, I think it was more a long forgotten memory". Snow frowned, coming to realize that it had been, in fact, a memory. Strange how it had resurfaced so out of the blue.

"What happened in your dream? I mean, your memory?" Henry must have seen, from her face, that it was not something bad and his inquisitive nature had kicked into full gear.

"Well. I think it must have been a few months after her marriage to my father. Three, four…? Can't really remember. Back then, she used to ride through the forest really early in the mornings with her horse, Rocinante, and from time to time she took me with her." It was strange how perception could be clouded by emotion, Snow thought. There were so many good memories she had with her stepmother growing up, but most of them tended to fade into oblivion when the pain she had inflicted on her and her family came into play.

"Wait, wait… Are you serious? You and her, riding all alone outside the castle walls, with no protection or, or… really?" Emma's voice cut off her mother's train of thought and all eyes came to rest upon the blonde's incredulous face.

"Yes", Snow nodded. Seeing the look of horror on her daughter's face, she came to see that others had too forgotten just who Regina had been back then.

"Emma, she was my stepmother. From the age of ten, she raised me."

Her daughter was shaking her head. "And was she cruel to you?"

Her soft and uncertain voice belied so much more than she had probably intended to share and Snow was loathe to let the opportunity of talking about Emma's past go by, but with Henry in the room, the understanding mother could see how it could be a bad idea. Snow pocketed that moment into the corner of her mind for later perusal.

"Never". Snow placed a hand on Henry's, soothing his worried expression and offered a smile to her daughter. "She had her moments of… depression, I think…but she was always kind to me, taught me ride, dance. Helped me with my studies and shielded me from father's attempts at an arranged marriage when I was old enough. She was there when I got scared at night and took care of me when I was sick. She was a good mother".

Until she killed my father and tried to kill me.

That part, though, she left unsaid, choosing to focus on the good memories and letting the rest fade for the time being. And why not? It was such a beautiful day, her family was all here, together and safe.

"Grandma? What was the dream about?", Henry tentatively asked, clearly curious and somewhat excited to learn someone else had once seen the softer side of his mom. The side that was not the Evil Queen.

"Oh, right", Snow smiled his way, having almost forgotten why Regina was a topic of conversation to begin with. "She was in her room and it was almost dinner time, so I went to call her. When I got to the room, the door was ajar and there was no light there, no candles and such, so I thought maybe she wasn't there after all".

"Where was she?"

"I thought she wasn't there, but she was. When I pushed the door open, she was standing in the dark, looking her herself in the mirror. At the time, I focused more on the fact that she seemed so far away, but as I dreamed it, I realized that…"

"Grandma?"

"Snow?"

"Mary Margaret?"

Snow looked at the family gathered around her and smiled, hoping to dissipate the worry which seemed to linger in the air between them.

"It's strange, that's all. She was crying and the tear on her cheek was dark… like blood. She brushed it away and she seemed confused about it, too". Her words were unable to soothe the atmosphere, though, for Snow herself was frowning at the memory.

"A… a blood tear?" Emma asked, looking one part incredulous, two part horrified.

"What happened after that, grandma?", Henry jumped in, his own frown hidden behind the long hair falling against his forehead.

"Nothing", Snow answered. "She brushed it away and when I came in, I forgot to ask about it and she didn't say anything. We never talked about it and I had actually forgotten about it until I dreamt it last night".

Henry bit his bottom lip and looked away. Snow could see a thousand thoughts running through his mind as he digested what she had just told them.

"But you know… I'm sure it was nothing. She was often sick back then. Maybe it was something like that".

Her reassuring words turned out to be not so reassuring, after all, for Emma's frown deepened.

"You don't think it's strange, though? That you would dream about this in such detail?", her daughter asked, arms crossed in front of herself.

"Maybe… Maybe not", Snow shrugged. "Let's just forget about it and if I have any more strange dreams, I'll let you guys know, ok?"

David reached his arm her way and embraced her, letting her know without words that he was there, should she need him in any way. She could tell her husband was also worried. After all the things they had faced lately, it seemed fate was against letting them rest and worked tirelessly to keep them on their toes.

"So… let's clean this mess up later and go have breakfast at Granny's. Emma?", Snow smiled, eyebrows raised.

"Sure. This is not turning into pancakes any time soon, anyway".

David laughed and Snow smirked and no one noticed that Henry was still pensive.

xxxxxx

For Regina, it was always the silence that got to her.

The silence of a chest which no longer held a heart. The silence of the palace, with its long corridors and too many rooms. The silence of a husband that never saw her as a person or a woman. The silence of her subjects, much too scared of her to speak as she passed by in her horse. The silence of her cell in Snow White and James's castle. The silence of despair when she cried and no one was there to witness her pain, as if it had never existed at all. And then, in Storybrooke, the horrible silence of days filled with the same routine, the same words, the same faces in the same sequence.

Henry had been a fussy baby and had cried for hours on end during his first few weeks with her, and Regina could still remember the relief his cries and later his voice could bring her. How his presence had filled the silence completely, making breathing much easier.

But the book had appeared out of nowhere and the silence had returned, only broken by harsh words and accusations. Now, she didn't even have that, anymore.

Only silence.

Regina Mills stood in front of the mirror which hung by her office. Its round surface was decorated with swirls and tiny flowers and reflected her beautiful face. She wasn't looking at herself, though. That had never been the reason she had always possessed so many mirrors and had taken to standing in front of them for hours on end. No… Her reflection was a reminder of too much heartache and pain for her to subject herself to this kind of torture daily.

A sigh escaped her lips.

The girl turned queen, turned mayor, turned pariah sometimes felt the grip on reality fade. She was sure there were many moments in her life when she had lost her fight to keep tethered to her own sanity. Those were the moments she had come to regret the most. How single minded she could be, how very cruel.

How very weak.

Regina felt the silence again, her own thoughts not enough to fill the emptiness and she was sure, had she been inclined to do so, that she could scream for days. Ladies didn't scream, though. Queens didn't show that kind of emotion. She felt like a shell, trapped inside herself, unable to move or break free.

If only…

The silence turned to oppression, which grew into depression and then faded to anger. It was unspecified anger, no clear target in sight. Nothing but the reflection of her own face, devoid of life. A second and a crash and Regina couldn't even remember why the mirror was broken before her, shards flying around. She couldn't recall her fist coming in contact with its surface, breaking glass and breaking skin, and tinting everything red.

She was slipping into insanity again.

That scared her more than the silence.

Regina took a step back and then another, slightly shaking her head. She couldn't lose it now. She couldn't go back to being the Evil Queen. Henry believed in her.

Thoughts of despair and denial clouded her mind and prevented her from realizing that she was no longer alone. The darkness around her vision didn't catch the black clad arms coming from behind her to circle her frame. She heard his voice, though, knowing immediately who was there, a millisecond before consciousness deserted her and her body fell limply to the floor, crashing into the marble and glass shards and blood.

"No more, Your Majesty. Now, it's my turn".

I'll post regularly.

So... what did you think?