"Anybody seen Regina?"
Emma looked up from her morning cereal at her mother, who sat perched on the low sofa in their cozy apartment.
"Why?"
Snow repositioned herself on the cushion and set her coffee mug down on the coffee table.
"She murdered Archie, and no one seems to care where she is."
She paused to shoot an accusatory glare at Charming as he made his way down the stairs into the kitchen.
"We have a murderer loose in town, and I'm sorry, but I'm not entirely okay with that. What if she comes looking for Henry?"
Emma spooned the last few Cheerios from the bowl before pushing it away from her.
"Listen, Regina's pretty smart. She's probably hiding somewhere, and I have a feeling she won't be leaving anytime soon. She knows Storybrooke isn't safe for her anymore."
Charming took a mug down from a cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee, looking from his daughter to his wife.
"Emma's right, Snow. Besides, it's not like-"
A series of rapid raps on the door interrupted the quiet atmosphere of the apartment, cutting Charming off. He walked over to the door, hesistating for a moment to check the holster at his hip. Touching the pistol, he pulled the door open.
Archie Hopper stood in the doorway, clothes dishevelled and wrists bruised, but still very much alive.
Emma's bowl shattered against the kitchen tiles.
"Emma, Emma! Emma, you have to let us come with you!"
Emma ignored her mother, choosing instead to focus uneccesarily on zipping up her leather jacket. She turned on her heel to leave, pushing past Charming.
"Emma, you don't understand-"
"No, YOU don't understand. I have to go find Regina, David. I owe her an apology."
Charming looked to Snow, seeing how much she wanted to protect their daughter.
"Let us come with you then."
Emma flashed a half-smile, walking backwards to the door.
"No offense, guys, but I don't think that's a good idea. I need to apologize."
She opened the door and pulled it closed behind her, her fingers lingering on the doorknob half a minute longer than necesaary.
"I let her down. She was trying so hard, and -I- let her down."
"Regina?"
Emma's voice echoed throughout the spacious mansion, filling Emma with a sense of dread.
"Regina, I'm sorry. I need to talk to you."
The Savior passed through the kitchen, noting a light dusting of flour on the counter tops.
"Regina?"
It wasn't like Regina to leave her house messy; in the few times Emma had been over the mansion had been immaculate and almost sterile in its cleanliness.
This house is not a home, Emma thought, making her way to the stairs.
Emma had just entered Henry's room when she caught sight of a dark figure in the backyard. She took a step closer to the window for a better look, slowly realizing a person was sprawled across the bench under the apple tree.
Emma tripped twice running down the stairs.
"Regina?! Oh God, Regina, no! Regina!"
Emma stumbled into a kneeling position beside the still figure of the Mayor, disturbing a pair of birds resting among the branches overhead.
"Regina! Regina, please!"
She grabbed at the Mayor's hands, pressing the cool fingers between her warm palms. A partially eaten apple turnover was beside the body on the bench, its overturned plate resting in the grass. Emma's stomach dropped; that explained the messy kitchen.
"Please, don't do this to Henry."
Emma brought Regina's hands to her face, still wrapped in her own slender fingers.
"Don't do this to me..."
She clambered onto the bench beside the still figure of the Mayor, instinctivelt pulling her close. The movement caused Regina's head to loll against the Savior's shoulder, her face expressionless save for a gentle smile.
This is sick, Emma thought, biting her lip in an effort to stave off the tears she knew were coming. She's dead and she's smiling and she's dead and it's all my fault.
"I should have believed you, Regina. God, I'm so sorry!"
Emma clutched the dead woman to her chest, burying her face in the brunette's hair as hot tears began to slip down her face.
She didn't realize how long she had been on the bench with Regina until the moon rose from behind the apple tree, bathing the backyard in its silvery light. She had cried her eyes dry hours earlier, but Emma's arms were still wrapped protectively around the woman at her side, as if daring anyone to separate them.
"I'm not leaving you, Regina. Not this time."
Emma brushed a stray lock of hair from Regina's face, tracing her cheek with her fingertip.
"Not this time..."