A/N: I don't buy that Regina wouldn't have some pretty hefty injuries after that fight with Zelena, no matter how powerful she is, and cause it was never mentioned on the show again I took some liberties with it.
Title is taken from the song by Halestorm.
You are the only one
The only one that sees me
Trusts me and believes me
You are the only one
The only one that knows me
And in the dark you show me
Yeah it's perfectly reckless
Damn, you leave me defenseless
So break in
"For God's sake, Miss Swan, will you just leave me alone." Regina is tempted to slam the door in the blonde's face, as she attempts to follow her into her home. "I don't need a babysitter."
"She threw you into the freaking clock tower, Regina," Emma says, wedging a foot in the front door before Regina can manage to close it and shuffling her way inside. "You can't tell me that that hasn't left you with some pretty hefty injuries."
"Nothing that I can't heal," Regina replies through gritted teeth, because the last thing she wants right now is Emma Swan in her personal space. "Now go away."
"Your body might heal quicker than normal peoples but healing is light magic and I know that you can't do it, and even if you could I'm pretty sure your magic's wiped right now otherwise you would've just poofed yourself home instead of limping here, so shut up and let me look after you, okay? Henry will kill me if anything happens to you."
"Henry doesn't remember who I am," she spits, furious that her son is being brought up as a weapon against her, but instead of flinching away Emma merely rolls her eyes and shrugs out of her jacket – Regina glares at her when the monstrosity is hung up on the back of her door.
"Yeah, well, if he did he'd be mad if I left you alone. Can you please stop being so stubborn?"
"No." But as she folds her arms across her chest a spasm of pain rips through her and she grimaces – Emma raises on eyebrow as if to say 'and you were saying?' and it makes her blood boil.
"Please just let me help," Emma pleads, and she looks so pathetic that Regina actually considers it. But that would mean admitting that she's in agony, that she doesn't even know how she's still standing, never mind how she made it home in the first place without any help, and she knows that if she says any of that that Emma will cart her off to the hospital and that is the last place she wants to be.
"Please leave, Miss Swan," she murmurs tiredly, before she turns and makes her way up the stairs, because she's painfully aware that there's blood on her skin from where she'd crashed through the window, and maybe a hot shower will ease away some of the pain in her muscles.
She has to hold onto the railing as she ascends the staircase, so hard that her knuckles turn white, because without the support she knows she'll go crashing to the floor. She's not strong enough, though, to make it to the top – her knees give way three steps away from the landing, and she prepares herself for the fall that's sure to follow, for the further beating her body's going to endure.
But it never comes, because strong arms catch her, winding around her waist to keep her upright. She sags against Emma without fully comprehending what she's doing, because she's a warm, solid support, and she's fairly certain that she can't take another step without help.
Before she even knows what's happening, Emma's got one arm under her knees and lifts her as though she weighs nothing. She's too weak to protest, doesn't question the fact that the blonde knows which one is her room. She's placed gently on the end of her perfectly made bed, and when Emma releases her hold she falls back against the covers and curls up on her side with a groan.
"What was that about you not needing help?" Emma sounds smug, but there's a hint of worry beneath it, and Regina wonders if she's scared – she's certainly never shown weakness like this in-front of Emma before. In-front of anyone before. She's too exhausted to care, though, that she's so vulnerable before the woman that's supposed to be her greatest enemy.
"Fuck off," she growls, and she hears a laugh bubble from Emma's throat.
"Wow, you must be in pain – I didn't think it was physically possible for you to swear." She doesn't dignify that with an answer, and she hears Emma shuffling around, but doesn't have the energy to lift her head to see what the hell she's doing, even when she hears the door to her bathroom open.
She gets her answer a few moments later, though, when she feels the bed dip at her back, and gentle fingers brush the hair away from her face. She cracks one eye open to glare at the blonde for daring to touch her, but before she can protest there's a cool cloth pressed against her cheek, gently wiping away any traces of blood on her face.
She doesn't think she's ever allowed for someone to see her in such a state, never mind let someone take care of her. Though her every nerve is tense, wanting to recoil, she doesn't – because it's almost nice, to have someone care enough to do this for her, when she knows that ninety-nine percent of the town wants her dead.
"I got you some aspirin if you want it, but I don't think it'll do much," Emma murmurs when Regina's face is clean, and the brunette feels a surge of energy enough for push herself into a sitting position, though she winces as pain shoots from her chest – she's fairly certain she's cracked a rib or two (or maybe a dozen, because it does hurt like a bitch).
"I highly doubt it." She tries to take a deep breath in an attempt to dull the pain, but it just worsens and she gasps, her hands grabbing fistfuls of her sheets.
"Shit, Regina, I really think that you need to go to the hospital."
"I'm fine Miss Swan –"
"So if I poked you in the ribs you wouldn't like, scream in pain?"
"Of course not, that's – don't you fucking dare." She slaps Emma's hand away as she moves towards the brunette's side, and Emma just looks at her pointedly. "I'll be fine. I don't know why you even care so much."
"I told you. Henry would be pissed." But the blonde avoids Regina's gaze, and the brunette wonders if she's lying – but quickly decides against it, because what possible other reason would there be? "If I can't take you to the hospital, then at least tell me what I can do?"
"I suppose you can run me a bath," Regina sighs after a moment, because she knows how stubborn Emma is and she doubts that she's actually going to be able to get the blonde to leave her alone.
"Okay." She expects Emma to disagree, to say that that wouldn't be helpful at all, and is surprised by her acquiescence as she disappears back into the brunette's bathroom. She hears the sound of running water a moment later, and tries to shrug out of the coat she's wearing but soon has to stop because apparently her arm no longer bends that way.
Emma comes back to the sight of her biting so hard on her bottom lip to muffle her cry of pain that it starts to bleed, and Regina hates the way that the blonde rushes over to her side like she's some helpless little lamb.
"I don't need help," she spits, and Emma shakes her head, breathing another heavy sigh.
"Are you always so stubborn? Jesus Christ, Regina, just let me take care of you – is that really so hard?" She doesn't answer, instead choosing to stare resolutely at the floor, and she wishes that Emma would just leave. "You can be as much of a bitch to me as you want, I'm not going anywhere."
"I'm sorry," she mutters when the blonde turns away from her, and she has to repress a shudder of loathing for having to say the words, for the second time, to Emma fucking Swan. "I'm not… I'm not used to anyone helping me."
"Yeah, well, it helps if you don't try to drive people away." Emma moves back towards her, and holds out a hand, pulling Regina gently to her feet. "Now do you want a hand getting out of those clothes or are you just gonna struggle with it until the pain gets so bad that you black out?"
"I didn't realise you were in such a rush to get me naked," she purrs, and smirks when Emma flushes a delightful shade of red.
"I'm not – I… I didn't –"
"It was a joke, dear. Lighten up." She watches a muscle in Emma's jaw twitch in anger, but the blonde doesn't say a word. She drags Regina's coat from her shoulders with ease (and only causing a slight twinge of pain), and lets it pool on the floor at their feet. She circles around to Regina's front, and they're pressed so close together that Regina can feel the heat of the blonde's body against her own, and for just a second, her breath catches in her throat.
She knows that she can probably get out of the rest of her clothes herself, but she doesn't protest when Emma's shaking hands undo the knot of the scarf around her neck. Her fingers brush against Regina's skin, and it's so startlingly intimate when their eyes meet a second later that Regina wants to scramble backwards, but she's not sure that she can move, much as she might want to (or rather, much as she tells herself that she wants to).
"I'm just gonna go check that I'm not flooding your bathroom," Emma speaks, voice slightly strained, and Regina nods in agreement, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as the blonde disappears into the other room.
She undoes the buttons of her shirt with relative ease, shoves her slacks down her legs, steps out of both them and her heels and pads quietly into the bathroom. Emma's stood at the sink, her hands curled around the porcelain of the bowl, and in the mirror Regina can see that her head's bowed and she's taking deep breaths, so much so that her whole body shakes.
"Are you alright?" She asks, actually concerned, and Emma whirls around so fast that she nearly tumbles over, and her eyes are panicked as they land on Regina – they widen when they flicker down to take in what she's wearing (or ratherwhat she's not wearing), and then she seems to realize that she's staring and quickly averts her gaze.
"I, uh, yeah. I'm fine. Sorry." She rubs a hand nervously at the back of her neck, and Regina watches her for a moment longer.
"Could you help me take this off, please?" She doesn't want to twist to take the shirt of herself, and besides, she may as well have fun making Emma uncomfortable while she has the opportunity. The blonde doesn't answer, just moves to stand behind Regina and pull the silken material down her arms.
"Jesus Christ," Emma murmurs, and a hand lands on Regina's side. The brunette sucks in a breath as cold fingers brush against her skin, and Emma immediately lets her go. "Shit, sorry, did I hurt you? Just, that's a really wicked bruise, are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"
"I'm sure." Emma reaches out again to brush the tips of her fingers over the bruise – Regina looks down to see the purple stain against her side and winces at the sight, because that is not pretty. Her whole body is littered with bruises, but that's definitely the worst of the bunch. The dance of Emma's fingers against her skin becomes distracting and she shivers – she tells herself that her pulse is racing because it's been so long since anyone's touched her in such a way, not because it's Emma Swan – and Emma takes a step back.
"Sorry, you must be cold." Regina feels the loss of Emma's touch like she's lost a limb, and it takes her a moment to gather herself. "I'll just, um, wait in your room – yell if you need anything?"
"Wait, Emma –" She turns and grabs the blonde's wrist before she can escape, and hates herself for what she's about to ask. "Could you… I don't think I'll be able to get my bra off."
"Oh. Oh, yeah. I'll just, uh, get that for you." Regina almost laughs at how nervous Emma sounds, and she can't stifle it when the blonde's hand shakes so much at her back that she can't get the clasp undone until her third try.
"Do I make you nervous, Miss Swan?" She asks, and she lets the bra drop to the floor before turning around, watching Emma's face flush as she determinedly tries to look anywhere else other than at Regina's breasts.
"Nope, no. Not at all. I'll just be… away. From here. Bye." She practically runs from the room and Regina just smirks as she shuffles out of her underwear and slides into the hot water of her bath. She wonders what's made Emma so nervous – whether it's the fact that she's who she is, or simply that she's a woman, because it's inconceivable that Emma would actually be attracted to her, isn't it?
And even if she was, it didn't mean anything. She had the pirate and Regina could have Robin, if she let him in, and that should be all that mattered. And yet she can't shake the feeling of Emma's fingers brushing delicately against her skin, wonder what it'd be like for them to trace other parts of her body…
She shakes her head to clear the thought, because she can't let herself think about that while she's naked in the bath and Emma's in the next room. She doesn't bother trying to wash her hair and just lies in the tub until the water starts to turn cold around her.
Getting out of there though proves to be much harder than she'd originally imagined. She doesn't seem to have the energy to be able to haul herself to her feet, and the first attempt sends her spinning back into the tub with a splash, and she watches water spread across the tiles of the floor and curses Zelena for doing this to her.
Emma rushes through the door the next second, worry painted across her face, and Regina sighs, because it looks like the blonde isn't leaving anytime soon. "Are you okay? I heard…" She trails off, her eyes taking in the sight of Regina, sitting up in the tub, skin damp, and it's gratifying, the way that she can't seem to tear her gaze away. When she remembers herself she flushes and turns her back to Regina quickly, and in the mirror Regina sees her lift her eyes towards the ceiling as if in a silent prayer.
"I'm fine, I just can't seem to get out – want to help?" She's smirking, because Emma's face is still burning and she's enjoying this more than she probably should.
"I… Fuck." It's a whispered exhale, so quiet that Regina barely hears it. "Yeah, okay fine. Whatever." When Emma spins back to face the brunette her eyes are determinedly fixed on the wall behind Regina's head.
She offers the blonde her uninjured arm, and Emma pulls her up with one hand, her other sliding to Regina's waist to steady her as she rises to her feet. Her skin is already hot from the bath water, but Emma's touch seems to burn, like liquid fire, and she only feels like she can breathe steadily when both of her feet are on the tiled bathroom floor, and Emma lets her go.
She offers Regina one of her fluffy white towels wordlessly, and Regina wraps it tightly around herself before following the blonde back into her bedroom. She wants nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep for a week, but she's not really sure that she'll even be able to sleep, in this much pain.
She wishes she hadn't put as much force into her magic before – she was much, much weaker here than back in the Enchanted Forrest, still had barely any grasp on it. She had enough for a few tricks, but not nearly as much as she'd had, once upon a time, and she drained much more easily now.
She knows that Emma will probably jump at the chance to help, to ease away her pain with Regina's guidance, or to send her to sleep, but she can't bring herself to ask, to let this woman in any more than she already has.
"You can go, you know, now that you can be sure that I'm not going to drown." It's awkward, the silence they've fallen into, as Regina reclines back in her bed and Emma perches on the edge of the armchair in the corner and tries not to look at her for too long.
"I told you, Regina, I'm not going anywhere. You could have a concussion; you need someone here with you in-case something happens."
"I don't need anything from you." Emma rolls her eyes at the tone of Regina's voice, but doesn't say anything, and the brunette sighs. Then an idea comes into her head – maybe if Emma wouldn't leave if she asked, she could make her want to leave, instead. And, judging from their little bathroom adventure, she has the perfect idea of how to do it.
Trying to hide her smile, she shoves herself to her feet and disappears back into the bathroom, letting the door close slightly behind her. She dries herself off with the towel and then drapes it back on the rack before walking back out into her bedroom. She's always been comfortable with her body – she knows that she's attractive, never had anything to hide, and she's not ashamed to say that she gets a thrill out of it, having people's eyes on her – so she's not the least bit self-conscious as she strides into Emma's view.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Emma squeaks as she notices Regina's complete lack of clothing, her eyes going comically wide. Regina merely bites her lip to hide a smirk as she crawls back onto her bed.
"I sleep naked," she says innocently, struggling not to laugh at the way that Emma is looking everywhere but at her. "Is that a problem?"
"Is that a – are you freaking kidding me? Of course it's a problem! You're naked! What part of that is okay?"
"Well if you take offense, Miss Swan, then you know where the door is." She watches Emma's eyes widen with understanding before she finally looks the brunette in the eye, her jaw clenching.
"Is this just a ploy to make me leave?"
"I don't know, is it working?"
"I'm not leaving, Regina," the blonde says through gritted teeth, and Regina sighs, upset that her plan has been foiled so quickly. "But could you please put some clothes on?"
"Why, am I making you uncomfortable?" She shifts, lounging back against her pillows and crossing her legs daintily, watching Emma's reaction curiously.
"Yes."
"Then no."
"Seriously? God, you're so –"
"Careful, Miss Swan," she warns, glancing up from where she'd been examining her numerous bruises, poking gently at them to see how bad the damage was. Emma sets her jaw and glares, but Regina watches her gaze slip from the brunette's eyes and down to her chest – it's brief, before she catches herself and looks away again, but Regina notices. "See something you like? Is that why you're uncomfortable?"
Emma doesn't say anything, but there's a faint blush on her cheeks and Regina is… surprised, because that's almost as good as an admission, and she would have never expected that, because she is the Saviour, and Regina is… the Evil Queen.
"Emma?" She prompts, because the blonde has fallen resolutely silent, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and it's driving Regina a little insane.
"What?" The blonde practically explodes; she leaps from the chair and onto her feet, stalking towards Regina with fire in her eyes. "What do you want me to say? That I can't look at you right now 'cause I don't think I'll be able to control myself? That I want you so badly that I can barely even remember my own name right now? That I… that running up the steps of that clock tower was the scariest moment of my life, because I didn't know if I was going to find you dead at the top?"
Her voice cracks, and Regina's eyes are wide because how the hell has this happened? How have they gotten to this point, from Emma following her home, worried, to a declaration? She's frozen under Emma's furious gaze, unable to move, to breathe, and God, why couldn't the blonde have just left her alone?
But she knows why not – she can see it in the way green eyes shine with unshed tears, her emotions painted clearly on her face. It's because she cares. She cares about Regina, for some God unknown reason, and a part of Regina desperately wants to accept that, just wants to be wanted, but another part recoils, because she's poison, and Emma Swan is the one thing that she knows she cannot taint.
"You wanted me to leave? Well, congratu-fucking-lations, Regina, your little plan worked. Thanks for reminding me that I should hate myself for having feelings for you – I won't ever try to help you again."
She flinches at the blondes words and the acerbic way in which their spoken, and watches Emma Swan walk out of her bedroom door. Her heart aches, from being left alone, for knowing that she's hurt the blonde but she has to, because she knows she'll hurt her far, far worse in the future if anything happened between them – everything she touches always turns to dust, in the end, anyway.
x-x-x
They don't talk about that night.
They pretend that it never happened; that Emma merely helped Regina get home safe and then went on her merry way, and it works, sort of. Regina falls into a relationship with Robin, because that's what she's supposed to do, and she pretends to ignore the lingering looks that Emma throws her way when she thinks Regina's not looking.
And they defeat Zelena, together, and it's fine, though it's not really fine because Emma barely looks her in the eye and she refuses to be in a room alone with her and it all just kind of sucks, but there's nothing that Regina can do. She's made her choice, to let Emma be, and she knows that she has to stick to it.
And then Emma, naïve, stupid Emma, falls into the time portal and brings back Marian, and her relationship falls apart. It'd be okay, really, if she hadn't come to love Roland – Robin is… nice, but she doesn't love him. So she could have dealt with it, him leaving her for his wife, if not for that fact that she was using him as a distraction, to try and force thoughts of Emma Swan from her mind.
The blonde had derailed her, on that night. She'd never considered the idea of them, together, before then, would never have dared. But now that she knows how Emma feels, she can't stop thinking about it, and now that she doesn't have Robin, can't pretend that she's in a relationship and she's happy, she really doesn't know what to do with herself.
She spends a lot of time alone.
Emma had moved out of her parents' apartment upon the arrival of baby Neal, had gotten her own place just a few minutes away, and Henry alternated weeks with her and Emma. On the days when he wasn't with her, she was left with little else to do other than sit around and think, and that wasn't working out too well for her.
She drank. A lot. Not so much that other people would suspect it was a problem, but well… It was starting to get there. It was the only way that she could wipe away the thoughts of Emma fucking Swan, and though she hated the way she was becoming reliant on several glasses of cider to get her through to the next morning, she just couldn't kick the habit.
Drinking is how Emma finds her, the next time they're alone in a room together, since that night. Regina is fully aware that it's the middle of the day, doesn't care as she pours herself her third glass and closes her eyes, tipping her head back so it leans against the back of the couch.
She hears the front door open and doesn't have the energy to move – Henry is the only one with a key, anyway, and he's probably just forgotten something that he needs for school, decided to come grab it in his lunch break.
"Hello?" The voice that calls out, though, is distinctly female, and Regina breathes out a heavy sigh, because of course it'd have to be Emma, the woman that she can't get out of her mind, come to invade her home now as well.
She's tempted to keep quiet, to just let the blonde do whatever it was that she was here for without knowing that Regina is home, but she knows that her car is in the driveway, and that she'd be in full view of the blonde unless she headed straight up the stairs.
"I don't recall giving you a key to my home, Miss Swan," she answers the blonde but doesn't move, and she hears Emma's muttered curse from the hallway. "What's the matter? Not happy to see me? That's a shame."
"I'm not in the mood, Regina."
"Why are you even here?"
"Henry's going to a sleepover tonight, he asked me to come get his sleeping bag."
"It's in his closet in his room – get it and then get the hell out of my house, Sheriff." She hears Emma sigh, but then there's the blissful sound of footsteps retreating upstairs and she closes her eyes, content that, for once, the blonde has actually listened to her.
She should've known that it was too good to be true, because when the blonde comes back down the stairs, she doesn't head outside the front door like Regina had requested. No, instead she comes and hovers inside the doorway of the living room, and Regina opens her eyes to glare at the blonde, willing her away.
"What part of 'get out' are you having trouble understanding?"
"You look like shit."
"Thank you, for that astoundingly profound observation."
"Doesn't change the fact that it's true."
"Yes, well, I wonder whose fault it is," she snaps, because she really just wants Emma to leave and maybe if she can irritate her enough she'll just go.
"I said I was sorry for bringing her back." A bitter laugh escapes from Regina's mouth at that, because that hadn't been what she was talking about at all. "Something funny?"
"Just your idiocy." Emma rolls her eyes, and instead of retreating, takes several steps into the room before throwing herself on the armchair opposite the couch Regina's lounging on. "What are you doing?"
"Sitting." Regina's teeth grind, because she's just really not in the mood for this. "Does drinking actually help?"
"It does if you drink enough." She looks away from Emma's searching gaze, because she can barely bring herself to look at her, and instead tips back her glass, draining it of the remaining amber liquid, lamenting the fact that the decanter is in the other room.
"I really I am sorry. I didn't mean to –"
"I couldn't care less about Marian," Regina huffs out, because if she has to hear Emma apologize one more time she might just slap her square across the face.
"Then why are you so upset?" The brunette chances a glance over at the blonde, who's staring at her with a furrowed brow, looking thoroughly confused. "I thought it was because you and Robin had ended things…"
"We dated for less than two weeks, Miss Swan. I don't get attached so easily."
"What about the missing year?" The blonde protests, and Regina just shakes her head because she's just so dense and she doesn't understand and why can't she just leave?
"We weren't together over there, only here."
"Then what? Why are you lying on your couch drowning yourself in cider at… half one on a Friday afternoon? Can't stand the thought that Robin might actually be happier without you?" Emma's words sting, and Regina has to take a deep breath because she feels her magic, always unsteady after a few drinks, try and claw its way to the surface, the desire to lash out, to hurt, just beneath her skin. But she holds it back, because she knows that she hurt Emma, on that night that they don't talk about, and she deserves the blonde's anger – deserves a hell of a lot worse, too.
"Please leave, Miss Swan. You've overstayed your welcome, once again."
"I'm not going anywhere," the blonde replies stubbornly, folding her arms squarely across her chest. "Until you explain things to me."
"I don't owe you anything," she hisses, furious eyes turning to glare resentfully at the other woman.
"Yeah, actually, you kind of do, after the other night." Emma's gaze doesn't waver, though Regina sees the flash of pain in her eyes.
"Oh, are we actually going to talk about that now? Because I thought that you were just going to avoid me for the rest of eternity so you didn't ever have to talk about your poor hurt feelings." She watches Emma's hands curl around the arms of the chair, and she grips them so hard that her knuckles flash white, and Regina knows that she's pushing her, but she just wants her to go.
"I wasn't avoiding you." But they both know that that's a lie, and Regina scoffs. "Fine, I was, but really, can you blame me?"
"You had no right," Regina says, no longer able to keep her anger under control – it spills out of her, hot and wild, injecting itself into her every word. "No right to say those things to me. No right to just barge in here, and –"
"Do you think I wanted to tell you?!" Emma practically screams, and she's up on her feet, hands balled into fists at her sides as she glowers down at Regina. "You think I wanted you to have that power over me? Jesus fucking Christ, Regina, that was the last thing I wanted."
"Why? Because I'm so repulsive?" She's on her feet now, too, and they're stood with barely a foot of space between them, yelling at each other, and they're both so furious, breathing heavy, and they're so, so bad for each other, but this is how they communicate, how they always have, with vicious words and heavy blows. "Because the thought of being with me sickens you so much?"
Emma kisses her, then, and it's so sudden and unexpected that she freezes for several seconds before her brain catches up and, God help them both, she kisses her back. Her hands fist in the blonde's shirt, and Emma's hands are tugging at her hair, and she doesn't know this happened but she's pretty sure that she doesn't ever want it to stop.
And that's dangerous, so she tears herself away from the blonde's body, stumbling backwards several steps, a hand pressed over her mouth. She doesn't know how to find her voice, can't speak, and Emma just looks at her with bitter eyes, and when had everything gotten so fucked up?
"Still think you sicken me?" Resentment drips from Emma's every word, and Regina just wants to take it all back, to pretend that none of this ever happened, go back to the blissful days where Emma Swan was merely the annoying birth mother of her son, and nothing more.
"I think you should leave." Her voice is strained, and she's not really sure what she wants – half of her wants Emma out of the door, to never see her again, and the other half wants to lunge at the blonde, shove her down on the couch and not let her leave until she's forgotten her own name – but she's pretty sure that it's a bad idea for Emma to stay for much longer.
"You kissed me back." It's not a question, and Regina bristles at the blonde's smug tone, because how dare she. She doesn't dignify it with a response – instead, she seizes her forgotten glass from the coffee table and strides into her study without another word, because God, she needs another drink.
She hears Emma follow her, has to fight the temptation to turn and hurl the glass at her head –the urge doesn't disappear even when she's gulped down another half-glass, because still Emma's there, in the doorway, watching her with judgment in her eyes.
"Please just go," she murmurs, all the fight going out of her as she sags back against the wall behind her, and she's not pleading, she's not, because queens don't beg for anything (except that's really exactly what she's doing, because she doesn't know to function right now with Emma's eyes on her, now that she knows what it feels like to kiss those lips that she has definitely not been thinking about since that night).
"Is that really what you want?" There's almost… hope in Emma's voice, and Regina's resolve nearly crumbles, she nearly lets her glass drop to the floor and drags Emma over to her, nearly allows herself to quiet both their doubts by drowning in the other, but she can't.
Because Emma matters to her (and she doesn't know when that happened, she really, really doesn't, but somewhere along the way it had, even if she'll still deny it, even now), and she can't ruin her. Months ago, she would've jumped at this chance, to worm her way into the Saviour's heart and then burn it all down, but now?
Now she can't. She can't let herself fall for this woman (even though she thinks that maybe, maybe she already has because fuck all that soulmate stuff, Emma makes her feel more alive than Robin ever did), because it'll destroy them both – she's not meant for love, not anymore. Her chance at that had shriveled and died in a stable block, too many years ago.
"Yes," she answers the blonde eventually, and though she tries to keep her voice steady she can't quite manage it, and anguish bleeds into every word. "I can't… I can't do this. You deserve better, you always have. So just… go, before something happens that can't be taken back."
"I think it's a little too late for that," Emma whispers, and when Regina glances up the blonde is looking at her with a tortured gaze, tears gathered behind her eyes, and why does Regina always have to destroy the things that she loves?
It works, though, and a second later Emma turns and leaves, without another word, and she's left alone in her study, silent tears running down her face as she lets herself slide down the wall until she's curled up the floor.
She throws the glass and lets it smash against the wall opposite, watching the shards scatter and fall to the ground, feeling as though it'd been her heart, wrenched from her chest and tossed away, that she'd thrown, instead.
x-x-x
The next time she sees Emma, it's for Snow's birthday, in Granny's diner, weeks later. She hadn't wanted to go, but had basically been forced by Henry and his insufferable grandparents, because they all knew that something had happened between her and Emma, and thought it was something that could easily be fixed by forcing them to interact with one another.
Oh, how wrong they were.
She arrives late, because if she's going to be forced somewhere it doesn't mean that she as to be on time, and heads straight for the bar. She's tried to cut down on the drinking, for Henry's sake (she'll never forget the day he'd come home from Emma's two days early, when she'd been six glasses in, and had looked at her with scared, scared eyes and begged her to please stop because he was worried about her), but she knows that she's not going to make it through the night if she stays sober.
Her son bounds up to her, beaming, and throws his arms around her middle (because he's so tall now, has almost an inch on her), and whispers in her ear that he's happy that she came, even though it's hard.
She's relieved that he when he darts away, he doesn't try to force her to go with him, over to where the happy family sits, Snow and Charming with the baby between them, and Emma not so far away. Regina recoils when she sees the pirate hovering around the blonde, narrows her eyes when he reaches out to rest a hand on the small of her back, whisper into her ear.
She has to look away, because she feels rage rush through her veins, but she has no right to feel it, because she'd basically thrown Emma out, told her that nothing could ever happened between them, and really, she should be relieved that the blonde was moving on, was placing her feelings on someone that wasn't as toxic as Regina, but instead she just feels… empty. Empty, and alone, at her seat at the bar, cradling a glass of whiskey that suddenly doesn't seem to be full enough.
When Snow heads her way, carrying Neal in her arms, Regina forces a smile, but she suspects that the other woman can see straight through her. She hands the baby over to Regina before the brunette can ask, and she settles him gently in her arms. He gargles up at her, a smile on his face, and she can so clearly remember Henry at this age.
"You looked like you needed some baby time," Snow says, and when Regina glances up she sees that the brunette's watching her with a curious expression. She bristles almost immediately, because although she's been forced to spend more time than she'd ever wanted to with this woman over the past few months, it doesn't mean that they're friends, or that they ever will be (and maybe that's a lie, because they talk like friends and they act like friends, and she really must be the worst villain in existence).
"Thank you," she replies stiffly, as Neal reaches up and grabs her necklace in a tiny fist, playing with the chain, delighted. "I can watch him for a bit, if you like. I'm sure you have a lot of people to talk to."
"Are you sure?"
"It'd be nice to have the company of someone who actually likes me," she says quietly, gently prying the baby's fingers from her necklace before he inadvertently strangles her, letting him play with her hand, instead.
"Regina…" She looks up, and there's such pity in Snow's eyes, and God, when had she become so pathetic?
"I'm fine." She forces another fake smile, knows that it's not convincing, but doesn't really care. "Really. Go enjoy your party, we'll be fine."
And she is fine, for a while. She's always loved babies, always found them delightful, entertaining, and Neal doesn't disappoint, despite his heritage. Holding him calms her, stops the itch to drink until she can no longer stand up, and it's… almost relaxing.
But soon he needs to be fed, to sleep somewhere that's not in her arms, and she reluctantly hands him back to his parents. She feels empty, without the warm weight in her arms, and orders a second drink, because why the hell not?
Even though it's been several hours since it began, the party's still in full swing, and she wonders how long it'll be before she can respectfully leave. Or maybe she could slip out of the back door without anyone noticing – it's not like anyone's paying the slightest bit of attention to her, anyway.
She's just debating how easy it would be to sneak away when her eyes land on Emma. She's been doing her best to keep her gaze away from the other woman, because it's painful when she slips up, and her eyes find her in the crowd. She looks happy, joking and laughing with her friends and her family, and all it serves to do is remind Regina what she can never have.
The blonde doesn't notice the heat of Regina's gaze – or if she does, she doesn't acknowledge it. Hook does, though, from where he stands at Emma's shoulder. His eyes lock with Regina's, and his lips curve into a smirk, and then his hand grabs the blonde's elbow, turning her around to face him, and he kisses her.
Everything else seems to fade away at that moment, for Regina – the sound of the party dims to a dull buzz, as she watches Emma kiss him back, and Regina feels a stab of pain so sharp that for a second she genuinely thinks that someone is trying to reach into her chest and yank out her heart.
She tears her eyes away, and she just really needs to get out of there, because if she doesn't, she's going to do something really stupid. White hot rage floods her every sense, and she sees red when she blinks, knows that she's about two seconds from losing control of her magic and blowing something (probably Hook), to smithereens.
She wants to run, wants to sprint through the door and never look back, but she's determined not to draw attention to herself, doesn't want Emma to see her slipping away because she'll know why and Regina's supposed to be convincing Emma that she doesn't have feelings for her, and she just can't slip up.
So she forces herself to walk, calmly, standing tall, from the diner. The bell over the door chimes as she opens the door, but she slips through it so quickly that unless anyone had been watching closely they wouldn't have seen who was leaving.
She regrets not telling Henry that she's going, but he'll live – he knew she didn't want to go anyway, surely he'd understanding her going home early. It's dark outside, the air frigid and cold, and she fills her lungs with it even though it burns, because she just needs to breathe, and then everything will be okay.
Except it won't, because she's watching Emma Swan slip through her fingers and into the arms of a filthy pirate, and much as she might try, she doesn't know how to be okay with that. She doesn't know how to watch them be together, to be happy, when it feels like a knife to the heart.
And it shouldn't, because she'd let Emma go, shoved her out the door and told her not to look back. And she'd had the chance, to take it back, to go after her – she'd had weeks of chances, but she's too much of a coward and she's been too scared to actually do it and now it's too late.
x-x-x
Two days later, she's outside of Emma's apartment, trying to will herself to knock, even though she knows that she has nothing to worry about, because thanks to the mysterious and vague text that she'd gotten from her son an hour ago, she knows that the blonde's not home.
Could you come over to Emma's? I need help with my science project, and she's not here, she went out with Hook.
She's ashamed to say that she'd teared up, when she'd read it. She hasn't left the house since returning there after that damn party that she hadn't even wanted to be at, telling herself that she just needed to take a day or two, get Emma Swan out of her system, and then she'd be fine. She'd be able to see her and the pirate together, and she'd be happy for them, happy that Emma could find happiness with someone else.
Evidently her plan hadn't worked.
She's never actually been inside the apartment. She's dropped Henry off on outside on countless occasions, but never been inside the building – that would involve awkwardness between her and the blonde that she didn't want her son to see, lest he start asking questions.
So she takes it all in as she gathers her nerve, telling herself that this is stupid, because Emma's not even here, and she can do this, she can go into Emma's home and help her son and she won't be affected by in the slightest.
Yeah, right.
When she does knock (there, that wasn't so hard, was it?), she only has to wait for a second before the door's pulled open, and then she freezes, because it's not Henry stood in-front of her, but the very woman that she has tried very, very hard to avoid ever since that kiss (the one that she still plays on repeat in her mind, the one that haunts her dreams, the one that, no matter how much she drinks, she knows that she will never forget).
"What… what are you doing here?" Emma asks, staring at her blankly, and Henry must've set them up, and she's going to kill him.
"I… It seems that our son has decided that we've been avoiding each other for long enough. He lured me over here under the pretence of helping with his homework." She's proud of herself, for managing to form a full sentence, without faltering, with Emma's eyes pinned on her.
"Oh." The blonde scratches at the back of her neck, and Regina notices then the bags under her bloodshot eyes, and wonders if she's been sleeping. Then that makes her wonder if the reason she's not sleeping is because someone's keeping her up at night, and… God, she's going to be sick. "I'm guessing he said that I wouldn't be here? Smart kid."
"Mm." It's about all she can choke out, with the image of Emma and Hook swimming around in her head – what if he's in there now? The thought makes her shudder. "Well, I'll just be on my way, then, if you'll excuse me - "
But Emma grabs her as she turns, her hand gripping Regina's wrist tightly, and she's suddenly not going anywhere. Emma's touch is searing hot against her skin, and she stares at the blonde's fingers, wrapped around her arm, for several seconds before she can find her voice.
"What are you doing?"
"We need to talk." Emma's voice is pleading, her eyes desperate as they meet Regina's. "For Henry's sake, if nothing else. He doesn't like us fighting."
"Fine," she sighs, closing her eyes for a brief second and praying to whoever's listening that she'll be able to get through this conversation. "For Henry's sake."
She allows Emma to pull her into her apartment, and the door shuts behind them with a click of finality. The blonde immediately drops her wrist when they're inside, and Regina stays pressed up against the door as Emma moves over to the couch, dropping down onto it and putting her head in her hands.
It's a nice place, she has to admit. It's open plan, with the kitchen sitting on the right and the living area on the left, and there's three closed doors opposite where she stands, presumably the bathroom and two bedrooms. There a pictures dotted around the place, which make it feel like home, and Henry's presence is clear in the comic books strewn across the coffee table, and the shoes lined up by the door.
"I can't stop thinking about you." Emma's voice is quiet, muffled by her hands, pressed over her mouth. "And it's… it's driving me fucking insane."
"It didn't look like you were having too much trouble forgetting about me at Snow's party." She disguises her hurt with a clipped tone, and she hadn't really meant to say anything about Emma and Hook, but really, she apparently has no self-control when it comes to Emma Swan so should have expected it to slip out, eventually.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Emma lifts her head to look at her, jaw set, and Regina forces herself to take deep breaths to keep herself calm.
"That you and the pirate looked pretty comfortable – I seemed to be the farthest thing from your mind." She knows that she has no right to be saying these things, to be jealous, but she really can't help it.
"Are you kidding me?" Emma's looking at her with disbelief written all over her face. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're jealous? You kicked me to the curb, basically told me that nothing could ever happen between us, and you're upset because I kissed Hook?"
"I never said that I - " She tries to defend herself (even though she knows it's useless, that her jealously, her shame, is clear for all to see), but Emma cuts her off with a noise of derision.
"Is that why you left? Henry was upset, you know – that you went without saying goodbye."
"I wasn't going to stand there and watch you play happy families with him." She can't bring herself to say the name of the man that has what she so desperately wants (except she doesn't, she doesn't want Emma, she can't let herself want it), and Emma's shaking her head, and she looks angrier than Regina has ever seen her – and she's seen her pretty angry.
"I can't fucking believe you." She rises to her feet, disappears into the kitchen and when she comes back she's clutching a cold bottle of beer so tightly that her hand shakes. "Can you really blame me? For… for letting myself be with someone that wants me?"
A slightly strangled noise leaves her lips before she can stop it, because, after everything that's happened the last few months, how can Emma think that she doesn't want her? (Except that she's not supposed to, dammit, she's supposed to stay away and leave Emma to the pirate, the filthy, horrid pirate that leers at her as though she's a piece of property, waiting to be bought, and oh, God, she's a monster).
"You really think that I don't want you?" Her voice cracks, breaks, and she feels the weight of Emma's gaze on her and nearly crumbles under it. "After everything?"
"I don't know what to think, Regina. I don't… what the hell do you want from me? I stayed away from you, like you asked. Hell, I even tried to move on and find someone else, because you were so determined that nothing could happen between you and me, and now what? Just because you saw me with someone else, you want me? Like I'm yours, a plaything for you to pick up when you want and toss away when you're bored?"
Emma's dropped the beer onto the kitchen counter, is stalking slowly towards her, eyes glowing with anger and a million other emotions that Regina can't pick out to name. She feels suffocated, as Emma moves closer, every step just seeming to take more and more of her breath away.
"So what the hell do you want, Regina?" She's close enough for Regina to feel the heat of her body, so tantalisingly close, and they're sharing the same air, and all she can smell is the blonde's perfume and the stale scent of beer on her breath. "Because you can have me. Hell, I must be crazy for even saying that, after everything, but I feel like I'm losing my mind, being away from you.
"But if you don't want me, if you really want me to stay the fuck away from you, then you need to turn around and walk out that door and never come back, because I'm sick of this game. If you really, really, don't want anything to happen between us, then go, now. Because this is it, Regina. Last chance. After today, I'm done, because I can't go on, wondering if there's still a chance. So make a choice."
She doesn't like being backed into a corner (and she well and truly is now – literally and figuratively), but she knows why Emma's doing this. It's not fair, to either of them, to carry on like this, tiptoeing around one another until they eventually meet face-to-face, bringing everything back to the surface.
And she knows what she wants. Every nerve in her body is on fire, aching for Emma's touch, because she's so, so close. But she's scared. Her heart is thundering in her ears, and she can't look away from Emma's eyes, and they're shining with hurt and want and… love, and oh, God, she's done for.
Really, though it's inevitable. Since that first night after the fight with Zelena, it's been leading up to this – she's just been too stubborn to accept it, to let herself fall for the woman that's stood before her, waiting for her, who still wants her, even though she's pushed and pushed her away, even though she's hurt her terribly.
It's all terribly poetic, really. That the Saviour will be her salvation. Maybe that means that they'll be okay – that Regina's curse, the one that befalls anyone that wants for her, will be lifted. Maybe Emma will be the one to break it, and she'll finally get a happy ending.
She's not that naïve, though, not really. She knows that this won't be easy, or simple, because she's Regina and Emma's Emma, and she drives her insane but she also kind of loves her, and this whole thing is just really, really ironic.
"I… I can't promise anything," she says, eventually, voice barely louder than a whisper, and she watches the way Emma's eyes light up at her words, and a hand reaches to cradle the side of her face gently, a thumb running lightly across her cheek.
"I'm not asking you to. I just… I want you to give me a chance. To give us a chance." Emma's forehead rests against hers, and for a moment they just breathe in the same air, and Regina's starting to think, for the first time, that maybe taking this leap isn't so scary after all, not when Emma's pressed up against her, holding her as though she's the most precious thing in the world. "Can you do that for me?"
"I'd do anything for you." That hadn't been what she'd meant to say – she'd meant to say just a simple yes, to not reveal much more than that, but instead a half-declaration slips out instead. And she'd curse herself for that, had Emma's lips not pressed against hers in the next second, wiping her mind blissfully blank.
Her arms wind around the blonde's waist, holding her close. It's a kiss that starts off chaste, but it quickly turns heated, because this has been building for so long (and even longer, for Emma – she can't imagine what that must feel like), and soon tongues are sliding over one another, and breathy moans are echoing into the empty apartment, and there's a thigh pressed between Regina's legs and everything just feels so good.
"We are n-not," she starts, as Emma's mouth leaves hers in order to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw. "Doing this for the first time against the door of your apartment, Miss Swan." She bites her bottom lip when Emma's teeth close around her earlobe, tugging gently, her breath hot against her neck.
"Why not?" The blonde breathes, and Regina shivers at the husky tone of her voice. "It's kinda sexy."
"And not happening." She twists a hand into blonde locks and drags Emma's mouth to press once more against hers, using it as a distraction to push them off of the door and in the general direction of the blonde's bedroom. "Which door?"
"You never specified that we had to move to the bedroom," Emma murmurs, and spins Regina around suddenly, pressing her against the wall. "Here is good."
"It is not," she says, even as she moans because Emma's hand worms its way between the wall and Regina's body to cup one of her breasts through the thin material of her shirt. Her palms land flat on the wall, and she tilts her head to the side to allow Emma access to her neck, to pepper kisses across her skin.
Both of the blonde's hands slide beneath her shirt, deftly unhooking the clasp her bra before sliding underneath the cups to toy with her already straining nipples, and Regina leans back against her, head falling against the blonde's shoulders as she wills her knees not to buckle because it's been a while since anyone's touched her like this and God, it feels amazing.
She turns her head, finds Emma's lips and moans into her mouth when a hand snakes down her front, beneath her slacks to press roughly against her centre and this time her knees really do shake, but Emma's other hand is quickly at her hip, steadying her.
Without breaking the kiss, the blonde flings out an arm and opens the door closest to them, before she's spinning Regina around again and backing her into the room. They don't bother with the lights – there's faint sunlight filtering through the blinds that Emma has neglected to open, which provides enough to see by.
Regina spares a quick glance around when Emma steps away to yank off her shirt and shuffle out of her jeans, and she has to admit that she's surprised it's not messy – it's actually pretty clean, which is amazing, considering the state of her desk and police cruiser.
She sort of forgets about her surroundings, though, when Emma stands before her in only her underwear, her mouth going dry. Gentle hands undo the buttons of her shirt, and it's soon pushed from her shoulders, along with her bra. Emma's breath catches as Regina lets it fall from her arms, and when they next kiss the gentleness is gone – it's hard and fast and needy, and it makes Regina ache for Emma's touch.
She falls back onto the bed, and Emma's quickly draped over her body, and it's… glorious, to be pressed, skin to skin. She lets her hands explore as they kiss, running over the blonde's back, across quivering abs, and down to grab her ass, shifting them so that she can bend a knee and press her thigh against the blonde's core.
A strangled noise leaves Emma's lips, and her hips immediately rock against Regina's thigh, and she groans because she can feel how wet the blonde is, even through the thin layer of cotton, and it's electric.
Emma moves, just slightly, so that when she rocks her hips down her own thigh presses between Regina's legs, and at the feeling the brunette's hands grab at the small of the blonde's back, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks, because oh, God, she's so close already, and she really doesn't think she can hold on for long because Emma's head falls to rest on her shoulder, and her soft moans are breathed right against Regina's ear, and she doesn't know how to process everything that's happening.
One of Emma's hands, the one that's not planted on the mattress beside Regina's head, keeping her steady, slides down the brunette's body to tease as a nipple, tugging just hard enough to teeter on the pain/pleasure threshold, and teeth bite down on where her neck meets her shoulder, and the overwhelming sensations have her coming hard against the blonde's thigh with a breathless moan.
She's a little mortified, that that's all it took, but she can feel Emma smiling against her neck and decides that it's okay. She's breathing hard, and there's a fine sheen of sweat over her skin, and she's never felt more alive.
"That was - "
"Amazing," Emma finishes for her, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. "And only the beginning." There's a wicked smirk on her mouth when she raises her head, and Regina's mouth turns dry and she's so, so, ready for that mouth to be doing things elsewhere. "Can I take these off?"
The blonde's thumbs hook around the brunette's underwear, and she nods, because she wants to feel Emma pressed against her with nothing else in-between them. The black lace is dragged down her legs torturously slowly, and Emma steps out of her own underwear at the foot of the bed, before she's climbing back onto the bed, eyes staring down at the brunette's body with a hungry stare.
She's never felt quite as wanted as she does in that moment, as Emma just leans to one side and takes her in. A single hand dances across her skin and she shivers, as the blonde's fingers drag with intent across her body, and her hips lift off the bed off their own accord, desperate for Emma's touch.
"Emma," she whines, when it's been so long that she's sure she's going to explode the second the blonde touches her properly, and the blonde merely chuckles, before leaning over and taking Regina's breath away with a searing kiss.
Her hand angles downwards, until it's brushing past damp curls and then sliding through her sex, and Regina's back arches off the bed and a guttural sound leaves her lips, and she drags Emma closer, hands twisting through her hair.
She's already close, knows that it won't take much as Emma slides two fingers inside of her, and her hips press upwards with every thrust of Emma's hand. And then her fingers slip away and she opens her eyes, disgruntled when the blonde also breaks their kiss, and her eyes go wide as the blonde smirks and takes her fingers into her mouth, tasting Regina on them, and that sight alone is almost enough to send her over the edge.
She's kissing her way back down Regina's body, then, and the brunette's not sure that she's going to be able to hold out for long, as teeth graze lightly over one of nipples, before Emma's lips are blazing a path downwards, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
She tries to keep her eyes open as Emma settles between her legs, as she throws one of Regina's legs over her shoulder and her arms curl under her thighs in order to spread her legs open further.
She tries, but at the first touch of Emma's tongue against her, her head falls back against the pillows and her eyes flutter closed and her hands fist in the bedsheets on either side of her. Her hips rock against the blonde's face as her tongue flicks against her clit, and when two fingers slide back into her she comes, her back arching off the bed and Emma's name leaving her lips.
She's pretty sure that she blacks out for a second, because the next thing she knows Emma is curling up at her side, and she pulls the blonde into a lazy kiss, tasting herself on Emma's tongue. She wants desperately to return the favour, to feel Emma come apart against her mouth, but she's feeling pretty boneless and isn't entirely sure that she can move.
"I think you broke me," she murmurs, as one of Emma's hands draws absent patterns across her stomach, and the blonde chuckles against her shoulder.
"I'm sure you'll live."
"Mm, just about."
They still have a lot to talk about – a lot – and she knows that whatever they've started isn't going to be easy. But she does know that she wants to fight for it, wants to fight for this woman who'd wormed her way into her town and her home and her heart, because she's pretty sure that she can't survive without her.