A/N: By popular demand, here we have a sequel to 'Shattered Mirrors and Broken Things'. You can read that first, but this story can stand alone as well. Trigger warnings for non-explicit mentions of suicide and marital rape.

Starchaser

It all started with Gold. But then, most things in Regina's experience did, somehow. So really, she wasn't even sure why she was surprised by this latest turn of events. Especially considering her apparent position as destiny's whipping girl. From the moment she'd been born, fate had been unnaturally determined to fuck her over, and quite honestly, Regina sickened herself a bit with her constant hope that things could get better in her life. She was the Evil Queen, so why would anything ever change for her? Why would the tentative bonds of friendship she'd painstakingly built with Emma Swan, or the progress in healing of her relationship with Henry, or even the slight grudging respect she'd earned from the other members of 'the good guys' after defeating Pan and Zelena, mean anything in the grand scheme of things?

She was the Evil Queen, and her mother was right. Love was weakness. It had neutered her, and yet she just wasn't strong enough to let it go. She wasn't even strong enough to move from this bench, frankly, and she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to care.

Because caring… caring hurt. And Regina knew she wasn't strong enough for that.

Love is weakness, and Regina was weak. She always had been, even when she'd done everything to pretend that she wasn't.

Things had been going so well, too. After the defeat of the Wicked Witch of the West, an agreement had been reached between her son, his birth mother, and herself. Somewhere along the line in Neverland, Regina and Emma had become… allies, of a sort: a bond that had only grown in strength as their time in Pan's realm had continued. They understood each other, even if they drove each other crazy more often than not, and that had been a bizarrely comforting feeling during the entire stressful ordeal. It was a feeling that had extended post-rescue too, into the other challenges they'd faced, much to Regina's astonishment. It was… comfortable and exciting, all at once, and though she'd probably never admit it out loud to anyone other than her son and the woman in question, Regina actually did enjoy Emma Swan's company. When she wasn't being a complete idiot. And Henry. Henry. One of her best memories was the moment she realized when she'd restored his memories with true love's kiss that he didn't hate her. He loved her, even though he could get so angry with her. But he loved her, and still wanted her to be a part of his life, and Regina had been walking on air when he said it because he was her son and nothing –nothing—in this world or any other meant more to her than him. So the moment that the chaos from Zelena's defeat had finally dulled, their new arrangement had begun, with Henry switching between mothers every week and every Sunday devoted to activities shared between the three of them.

And Regina was grateful. She still didn't understand what she'd done right initially in Neverland to convince Emma that she was trustworthy, but she was glad she'd done it. A day a week with her son was something she'd have given anything for before Neverland. And suddenly, she'd been landed with every other week with a son who remembered her and loved her.

Yes, things had finally turned around for Regina. Despite the fact that most everyone still hated her –including a skeptical Snow and Charming—Henry and Emma didn't hate her. Heck, she'd even suffered a mutual breakup with her 'soul mate' Robin Hood, and they were still friends. (And Regina being Regina, she considered this an impressive feat in and of itself.) It had been six months since Zelena's defeat, and Regina was happy. Henry hugged her all the time now. Smiled at her. Told her he loved her. It hadn't been an easy place to get to for them, but they dutifully attended sessions with Archie every week for an hour to talk out their differences and mend past wounds. There were quite a few apologies to be doled out on both of their parts, but they'd done it; and while neither would forget how they'd hurt each other, they could forgive. It was… it was precious beyond words, to Regina. And startlingly, Emma understood that. Against all odds, the previous bane of Regina's existence had become the biggest supporter of her relationship with Henry. The biggest supporter of Regina in general, actually, and damn if she understood how exactly that had happened.

At first, Regina hadn't been truly comfortable with all the extra time she suddenly found herself spending with Emma Swan. They'd gotten along surprisingly well (though not without hiccups) since Neverland, certainly, but it truly astounded Regina just how suddenly they'd fallen into almost being friends before either of them ever realized it was happening. Emma blamed Henry. Their Sundays together were his idea. Somehow, he'd gotten it into his head that he liked them being a team, and since neither Emma nor herself could ever deny their beautiful son anything, they'd agreed without question to the request. Baking massive amounts of cookies, going to the park, riding horses, watching marathons of Xena: Warrior Princess and Battlestar Galactica. It didn't really matter to them, and the three of them did it all as the weeks passed. It was… fun. It was strange to share Henry and spend time with someone she'd once wished to utterly destroy, but not altogether abhorrent, because for some reason Emma could get under Regina's skin like no one else could aside from their shared offspring, and Regina discovered during these Sundays that that didn't have to be a bad thing. Emma Swan was an idiot, and Regina should have hated her because she didn't suffer idiots. Except, apparently, for this one. She became rather alarmingly fond of her instead. And it wasn't as if they only saw each other on Sundays. They saw each other very often, as Regina had been (very cautiously) reinstated as mayor once it had been proved that she was the most qualified resident of the town for the job. And now that she was on good terms with the Sheriff they worked together rather closely on a wide variety of projects for the town, finding their effectiveness as a unit undiminished despite the change of venue, as disconcerting as it was for everyone to witness after their previous history of workplace antagonism. They still had weekly magic lessons as well (after the pair of them had promised their son to only use magic for good things, like saving people). This was something that Emma had resisted at first, but Regina had insisted upon. Her son would not be harmed or kidnapped again, and so she would make damned sure that Emma was equipped to use her power to defend him. (Regina didn't even want to get into the fun tricks their combined magic did. The magic they were capable of together was greater than the sum of its parts, and it baffled her, but the part of her that just did not want to know was greater than her curiosity, so she left that particular line of inquiry well alone.)

And, gradually, over the course of those six months, almost friends became actual friends.

Or, Regina hoped so, anyways. She'd never really had an actual, healthy friendship before aside from her awkward 'we-are-apparently-soul-mates-but-it's-weird-making-out-with-you-so-let's-just-not-do-that' relationship with Robin, and it was her secret, desperate fantasy that this is what she'd found with Emma. Because they were so, so much alike—more than anyone else realized. They weren't emotionally healthy people. They just weren't. They were damaged, and they'd probably never fully rid themselves of their respective scars. But after the 'diary incident' -as Regina and Emma liked to call it- three months ago, they'd learned to take comfort in each other. They would sometimes talk for hours after Henry had gone to bed over crystal glasses of scotch (or cocoa spiked with bailey's in chipped mugs, if they were in Emma's apartment) about anything and everything and just exist together in their emotionally unhealthy glory, knowing that they both had so many problems, and also that they were safe with each other. Safe to tell stories and to hear them, to cry and to comfort, to laugh and to smile, to rant and to bitch and to soothe and to listen.

Emma was her safe place.

Which was why, six months after everything that had happened with the Wicked Witch of the West, Regina was draped listlessly across a bench by the docks and staring out at the ocean, feeling like her world was shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Again.

Everything had been so wonderful. Regina had foolishly hoped that she could be happy like this.

She should have known better; but Regina was weak, and she never learned.

It didn't happen very often, but every once in a while, Henry insisted that 'family dinners' take place. And seeing as the child was impossibly related to what seemed to Regina to be half of Storybrooke, they were well-attended affairs. Snow, being the insufferably hospitable person she is, was generally the hostess, and she had been tonight. Charming, Emma, Henry, baby Neal, Gold, Belle, Ruby (in her capacity as Emma's godmother, making her –in Henry's words—his godgrandmother), and Regina herself were all in attendance, and so far as awkward dinners went, this one hadn't seemed like a complete disaster at first. But then, Gold had happened.

Because it was just a bad plan in general to have dinner with the Dark One.

But she and Emma had been bantering over an argument they'd had over the best Dickens novel (Emma maintained that 'Oliver Twist' was best, but Regina knew for a fact that 'Tale of Two Cities' was by far the better work.) and she hadn't batted an eyelash when Rumple had handed her another glass of what she'd thought was the admittedly quality pinot noir they'd been enjoying with the food. Because who at the table would dare harm her in front of Henry, who was the reason they were even there in the first place?

The correct answer to that question would be fucking Gold. He'd spiked her glass, and Regina didn't even notice until the truth serum had taken affect. And by then… well, it was just too late.

"Come on, Regina," Emma had needled her. "Saying 'Tale of Two Cities' is better just 'cause of historical value is a crap answer and you know it. What's the real reason, huh?"

"Sydney Carton," Regina blurted out, unable to stop herself. "He was a sad man who made his death meaningful, and whenever I read his execution scene I wish that Tinkerbell had let me fall from the balcony when I tried to jump so that I could have had what he did."

The entire table went completely, utterly still. No one hardly dared to breathe as they just stared at her. Truly, Regina didn't blame them. Had she a choice, she would have never dared utter such a thing out loud. Ever. Mortified, she clapped a hand over her mouth, panicking slightly. Because hell. What had just happened?

"You tried to kill yourself?" Snow blurted (because she was incapable of being silent), heedless to a wide-eyed Henry who was gaping at his brunette mother like he had never seen her before.

"Many times," Regina confirmed, fists clenching on the edge of the table as she tried to stop talking but found herself unable to. Was Snow Syndrome contagious? "I tried to jump off the balcony before I married the King, drank poisoned tea a week after the wedding, and slit my wrists after my second miscarriage."

She was panicking now. Truly. She tried to lurch from her seat at the table, but found herself unable to move. She tried to –as Emma so eloquently put it—'poof' away, but found herself incapable of calling upon her magic. Her secrets were spilling from her lips faster than Leroy could lay waste to a bottle of Jack Daniels, and she couldn't make it stop.

"You were pregnant?" came Snow's screeched response, her voice rising an octave. The rest of the table was still too stunned to react.

Regina tried. She clenched her jaw. Held her breath. Ground her teeth. But then… "Twice. But I lost both children after the King used me too roughly, and the damage after the second was too great for me to conceive a third time," she admitted.

Beside her, Emma and Henry blanched, and Belle even looked a bit green. Snow, for her part, colored in anger. "My father was a good, kind, and loving man!" she shouted. "He would never do such a thing!"

"The hell he wouldn't! But I can't move and I can't… I can't stop talking!" Regina cried out, jerking in her chair against her invisible restraints. "Why can't I stop?"

That was when Gold chose to ask his own questions. "Did you steal my Faye Orb, my Queen?" he asked, a bit too innocently.

"Yes, the week I started my apprenticeship with you," she replied immediately.

"And why would you do that, dearie?" he enquired, cocking his head to one side. "You have no faye blood. It was useless to you."

"You made me kill your current apprentice to have her place. You pretended that you could help me, but you never did, and I hated you," came the answer. "I wanted to hurt everyone, but you most of all, even though I couldn't. So I stole the orb because it looked important, but it would be a long while until you noticed it and it would make me happy in the meantime."

Gold blinked in acknowledgement before letting his expression drop into a furious scowl. "And what did you do with it?"

Angrily, Regina jerked in her chair, now well aware of her circumstances and not liking them one bit. Still, she was helpless against the serum that she had willingly –if unknowingly—imbibed. "I gave it to Maleficent. She was a demanding lover who required incessant baubles to keep her satisfied enough to keep our alliance."

It was then that Emma finally snapped out of her stupor. "Wait… what the hell is happening here?" she demanded, eyeing Regina sideways as if she were a half-drunk ex-con with a bloody machete in hand.

Regina didn't appreciate the sentiment. Regardless, she had to answer. "Rumple dosed me with a magical inhibitor and truth serum, and bound me to my chair. I am currently unable to escape, refuse to answer a question, or answer a question with anything less than the truth."

That's when all hell broke loose. Belle and Henry were berating Gold, Snow looked like she was about to faint, Charming was fretting over her like a mother hen, Neal was wailing in his baby seat, and Ruby just looked a cross between confused and horrified.

Crack.

Silence descended upon them again, cut only by Neal's fussing, and everyone turned to look at Emma who had stood from her chair and let off a loud pop of magic from her hand.

"Thank you," the blonde snapped. "Now first thing's first." She turned to Gold. "What the actual fuck, Rumple?"

The pawnbroker looked sour. "That Orb had sentimental value," he snarled. "It was important, and when I went to go find it last week, all I found was a box with a rock in it, with Regina's filthy magic all over it! She needed to pay for what she'd done. Don't fret though, dearie. She'll be just fine."

Regina just growled, animalistic. "Release me now or so help me…"

"You'll what?" Gold taunted.

"Rumple—" Belle hissed.

Emma wasn't having it. "Enough!" she shouted, positively furious. "I mean… Jesus fuck you two!" she gestured between the bound brunette and her attacker. "Can you not sit down and handle your issues without all this passive aggressive, self destructive bullshit? This is not an okay way to solve your problems, and I shouldn't have to tell you that! So Gold. Fix Regina."

Gold sneered at her. "It's not permanent," he ceded, eyes flashing dangerously. "Both potions will wear off in about twelve hours. She won't be harmed."

Inwardly, Regina was seething. Twelve hours? She would be unable to lie or refuse an answer for twelve hours? That was so many different levels of unacceptable. Anyone could take advantage of her in that timeframe. Not that the damage hadn't already been done. In front of her son no less.

Apparently, Snow –who was unfortunately not as stupid as she looked—had followed this exact line of reasoning.

And decided to take advantage in about two seconds flat.

"Why didn't you tell me about my father?" she wailed, gazing at Regina as if she had personally betrayed her. Which, frankly, Regina thought was bullshit. Her suffering was hers, and hers alone. The last person she was apt to share it with was Snow White, and the imbecile knew that.

"Please," Regina scoffed. "The man was a monster, but he was still your father. Besides, what good would it have done when he was already dead?"

"You're the monster," her former stepdaughter sneered.

"Snow, no!" Ruby protested as Regina visibly flinched, far too distressed by the situation to hide her reaction as she usually would. Yes, she knew she was a monster. The Evil Queen. But what she'd suffered before that… that was on Leopold. She hadn't been a monster then. Not yet. She hadn't asked for nor wanted the King's attentions, and the man's actions were one of the few things she wasn't guilty of.

By this point, Emma was reduced to trying to pry Regina from her chair herself, though Regina was well aware that the action was fruitless. The only way she was getting free was through magic, and though the Savior was powerful, she still couldn't take on Gold's magic by herself. She appreciated the thought behind the attempt though.

Emma growled her frustration, giving another tug to Regina's upper arm. "No one ask any more questions," she instructed the table when this failed. "And Gold, let her go!"

But the Charmings had been granted a golden opportunity on a silver platter by a nubile slave girl encrusted with precious gems, and a small part of Regina didn't blame them for ignoring their daughter's will in favor of seizing the chance for answers.

The rest of her wanted to incinerate them on the spot in a tornado of fire.

"Do you plan to betray our trust and harm us?" David asked quickly.

"Grandpa!" Henry protested.

Still, as sweet as the thought was, such protests were useless. "No," Regina ground out, heart pounding like a cornered rabbit. "I may still hate you to an extent, but we love all the same people, and I would not harm someone I love. You are protected by extension."

Snow's eyes glinted. "So my husband, daughter, and myself are only alive because Henry wishes it?"

"Mom. Priorities. Please stop grilling her," Emma groaned, massaging her temples and gesturing again for Gold to release her. Not that it did any good.

"No," Regina blurted out, reddening from the effort of fruitlessly straining against the serum. "That might by true of you, but Miss Swan is protected because she is one of the people I love."

This, once again, earned her incredulous stares from everyone present, and Regina found herself fighting tears of frustration and grief, praying to any deity that would listen to just stop this madness. Not all secrets were alike, despite the fact that she held them all closely to her chest. Some were light, like feathers, and would float away on the wind harmlessly if she would let them. Others were heavy, and letting them go tore away chunks of her flesh as they dropped to the floor. She wasn't always the only one that these types of secrets made bleed, as was already evident from the previous topic of conversation, and she begged with her eyes for everyone to just keep their silence because the night was unsalvageable as it was, and she couldn't bear it if one of the best parts of her new life was lost to her on top of it.

Because familial love was a thing, right? A harmless thing that wouldn't result in Emma running away from her, or being taken from her, and if the topic was just left alone she could pretend that that's all it was.

No such luck.

David's hackles immediately rose as he was launched into 'protective father' mode. "And what does that mean?" he challenged, leaning aggressively across the table.

And Regina tried. She tried so hard not to talk, but her failure was inevitable. "It means that I'm in love with her," she blurted, observing with dismay how her entire audience reeled with this admission aside from Gold, who was grinning at her as he watched his revenge take a painful turn despite its inability to physically harm her. (Regina was really regretting her petty theft of his apparently sentimental trinket right about now.) "I would harm her just as soon as I harmed my son."

Poignant silence weighed upon the room for a split second, and Regina squeezed her eyes tightly closed so she wouldn't have to see the disgust and horror radiating around her from every angle. This didn't stop the first of many silent tears from trickling down her cheek because this ruined everything and she couldn't bear losing Emma and Henry, though she knew she just had. If she couldn't see their disgusted expressions, she could pretend just a little longer that she hadn't just lost everything for the umpteenth time in a life that suddenly seemed far too long. It had been bad enough when she and Robin had broken up just a few weeks after Zelena's death, deciding to just stick to friendship, and she couldn't bear to have anyone else turn away from her now too. If Emma was disgusted by her admission, or Henry was angry with her for it, Regina wasn't sure she could take the ensuing loneliness again.

Then, Gold snapped his fingers, and Regina could move again. She lost no time in bolting from the apartment as fast as she was physically capable and running for her car, ignoring the calls and shouting and general chaos that she was leaving behind her. She had no doubt that someone would attempt to follow her, but for the moment, she just needed to get away. Far away. And she was crying and driving and not really paying attention to anything and she didn't even care if anyone could see her in the cool darkness of the evening because she was such a fool. A fool to trust that Rumple wouldn't pull something like this. A fool to have fallen in love with the one person who was least likely to return such sentiments, what with all Regina had done to her and her family. A fool to hope that she was deserving of love in the first place. A fool to think that she could keep the happiness of the past six months intact when her touch was poison.

In the end, she found herself collapsed here upon a bench by the docks, staring out at the ocean and berating herself. Because nothing in her life ever turned out well for her, and yet she'd still been unprepared for a disaster of this magnitude.

The sound of footsteps accompanied by the tingle of familiar magic told Regina that Emma had 'poofed' herself to the docks, and she inwardly railed against the fact that the blonde knew her well enough to know exactly where she'd go when upset. It wasn't fair. The last thing she wanted right now was an angry lecture from Emma Swan about appropriate feelings and boundaries. Still, Regina didn't run. It would be futile, she knew, if the Savior truly did want to talk, and not only because the other woman had never once taken 'no' for an answer. She was wearing four-inch Jimmy Choos and Emma was a former bounty hunter who probably wouldn't hesitate to tackle her bodily to the ground if she didn't just immobilize her with magic from the get-go (though Regina doubted that, as Emma tended to forget she had magic at the most inopportune moments).

Knowing all this, Regina resigned herself to the upcoming uncomfortable conversation with the woman she'd just admitted she was in love with and stayed completely still on the bench aside from her breathing. She didn't care enough to move.

"Hey," Emma greeted her simply, flopping gracelessly onto the bench beside her and following her gaze out over the dark heaves of the nighttime ocean. It was a warm night, but the breeze that brushed up against their faces from that direction was pleasantly cool and Regina congratulated herself on choosing an excellent spot to fall apart.

No one could ever accuse her of having poor taste.

"If you're going to be here, Miss Swan, I must request that you refrain from asking me any questions," Regina sighed as an acknowledgement to the woman's presence.

In answer, Emma just grinned at her and settled herself more comfortably against the weather-worn bench slats at her back.

For a long moment, Regina just stared at her with slight incredulity. She didn't understand what the blonde's game was, as she was seemingly content just… sitting there. But, Regina reasoned, it wouldn't do to look a gift horse in the mouth, and she forced herself to turn away from her companion and stare up at the sky, pondering the twinkling stars above her. It was a clear night, and they really were beautiful. More so than she remembered, actually. How long had it been since she'd last gazed at the stars?

For a long time, they maintained the companionable quiet. So long that Regina's neck began to ache from the way she'd angled it. She surprised herself though, by being the first to speak in the style of their many late night confessions. "When I was a little girl," she divulged softly, "and my mother was away to court, my father would sneak me out into the garden at night to watch the stars. I loved it. And some nights when I was forbidden from going outside, he would open my window so that I could see them even from indoors, and he would tell me that the stars were wishes. That every wish ever made hung bright and hopeful and beautiful in the sky, and that when those wishes came true, they'd fall from the sky and onto the earth, where us mortals could reach them. He told me that if I chased the stars long and hard enough, one might fall for me too."

That's all she'd ever done, really. Chased unattainable dreams. Done anything and everything under the sun –moral or not—trying to capture something so elusive that she may as well have been chasing stars. The thing is, though, that stars can't be caught. They have to fall to the earth on their own, and in their own time. Her failure to achieve happiness –be it through the love of a stable boy or the casting of a curse—was inevitable from the beginning because stars never fell for her, and her chest felt heavy with that knowledge. Regina's life had been a desperate, unending quest for happiness; and not for the first time, she wondered if everything she'd done in her life was justified. Not because much of it was morally wrong –which she would concede—but because it was, and always had been, a futile prospect. Villains did not get happy endings, and though she had tried to avenge the innocent girl she once was, perhaps… perhaps she had never really been someone worth avenging, simply because of the circumstances of her birth. She'd never been one to place the weight of a parent's sins upon the shoulders of their child, but she wasn't above admitting that this personal belief could very well be a subconscious manifestation of her own search for absolution. After all, she'd ended up worse than Mother in the end, hadn't she? And Regina, at least, had been capable of remorse at the time. She'd just chosen not to feel it. And for what? A pathetic attempt to catch something that was never hers to have, because she'd never been anything less than a monster.

Monster. Monstermonstermonster. How many times had she been called such? Too many to count. Too many to remember. Regina didn't like that word. She deserved it, doubtlessly, but she'd never felt like she was truly a monster. Rather that her monstrous behavior was the symptom of an entirely different disease. No, she wasn't truly a monster.

In her heart, she was a starchaser.

Emma, with her shiny blonde hair and porcelain skin and awkward smiles and white sundress (that she'd doubtlessly swiped from her mother's closet) and bright eyes was like a fallen star. But she might as well have still been hanging in the sky for how attainable she was for Regina.

And it hurt, to have her so close, knowing that she knew and knowing that it didn't matter, because she was the Evil Queen and Emma was the Savior and even though they were friends (which is what Regina had interpreted Emma's effort to find her and sit with her in silence to be a gesture of), Emma could never be her happy ending.

"Regina," Emma breathed, bringing the brunette out of her reverie almost immediately. "Whatever you're thinking, don't."

Regina blinked. "I beg your pardon?" Was she implying that… she'd do something destructive again? Because she wouldn't. That wouldn't make this better, and she knew that. Emma knew better than that too. Had her spilled secrets really erased all the progress they'd made? Did Emma not trust her anymore? Her heart clenched at the thought.

Insistently, Emma reached out and curled her fingers around Regina's right forearm where it was draped across her leg, her hands clasped neatly in her lap. "You know I didn't mean it like that, Regina," she scolded lightly. "But… you have that look on your face that you get when you get all self-deprecating, and I know tonight really, really sucked for you, but you don't have anything to be ashamed of. Tonight is on Gold."

Regina shrugged. "Perhaps it was Gold who set this all in motion, but I cannot blame him for everything," she admitted, deliberately turning her face away from her and staring sightlessly to her left. "At some point, I have to take responsibility for my own weakness. And I was weak enough to have such secrets that would ruin things for everyone."

"Look at me, Regina!" Emma demanded sharply, her grip suddenly increasing to bruising force. Regina gasped at the sharp jolt of pain this caused her, but found that the sensation grounded her unexpectedly strongly and she almost instantly relaxed her tense muscles before reluctantly obeying the order and turning to gaze at the Savior with wide eyes.

Emma eyed her in a measuring sort of way. A familiar sort of way. The way they each looked at each other in tense moments from the very beginning, cataloguing every minute twitch of muscle around the mouth and eyes or blush of blood beneath skin or flutter of eyelashes over cheekbones as if such details were their own personal Rosetta Stone guide to understanding one another. "You're afraid," she announced quietly. "But you don't have to be. No one will use what you said to hurt you. I won't let them. I promise."

Regina couldn't hide the tremble of her lips, nor the sudden brightness of her eyes, but she didn't look away again. Emma… Emma was her safe place. Still. And it baffled her for so many reasons, but she'd honestly thought that Emma would have put an end to their strange friendship after tonight. After she'd learned of her inappropriate feelings towards her. She'd thought it would have made her uncomfortable. But here she was, being so… so Emma, like nothing was hanging between them, and Regina wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry, because having Emma here felt so good but she couldn't help waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her every instinct was telling her to lash out and hurt Emma before she could hurt her instead, or to slam down her walls and lock her out of her life forever but… she couldn't do it. She was just too tired to fight anymore and… she trusted Emma, oddly enough. She trusted her to at least let her down gently, and to not pull far enough away from her to hurt Henry with her absence.

It was irrational and stupid, but Regina had always been weak.

"I don't understand," she admitted freely, the serum still coursing through her body allowing nothing less than the truth, but not pressing her to speak unless asked a question. "Why are you here?"

"You're upset. You have a right to be, because Gold is a dick and you had a shitty night," Emma explained, imitating Regina's earlier shrug. "I'm your friend. I can't fix what happened, but I can be here for you so you don't have to be miserable alone. We can be slightly less miserable together instead."

Hesitantly, Regina smiled. She was still beyond mortified at all of the dark secrets she'd been forced to reveal tonight, but it seemed that Emma didn't care to discuss it. She just… wanted to be there for her, and that meant everything. Because she suddenly realized that Emma wasn't running. She wasn't going to lose her. Not even as a friend. And if Emma wasn't cross with her, there was a good chance that Henry wouldn't be either, and even though Regina had little doubt that the entire truth serum debacle would change things, it wasn't ending them. There was a possibility that the good things that had appeared in her life over the past six months weren't going away completely, like she'd previously assumed, and Regina could hardly believe her luck.

"I like your story, by the way," Emma continued, fidgeting a bit. It was a bit of a tradition for them after their first episode of telling personal stories with the diary incident to have a quid pro quo policy regarding sharing. "About the stars. It reminds me of my favorite song I used to sing as a kid. 'Catch a Falling Star', like in every kids' chorus ever. I'd sing it to myself over and over at night, like a lullaby."

Regina raised an eyebrow, strangely touched that Emma was trying to keep to their familiar routine but genuinely ignorant as to the song. "I don't believe I've ever heard it, dear," she commented.

"No way!" Emma exclaimed, jumping to her feet and pivoting to face her. The woman was clearly grateful for the change in the heavy mood. "You haven't lived." Regina opened her mouth to protest that statement, but Emma hushed her with a frantic wave of her hand. "No, no. Just shut up and listen. You'll love it, I promise."

"You're actually going to sing?" Regina spluttered, shocked. She'd never heard Emma singing. Ever.

Emma made a face, scrunching up her nose in mild distaste. "Yes, but we will never speak of this again, because I don't think I can take the Disney princess implications," she qualified, shooting the brunette a warning glare as if to say 'The things I do for you!'

Regina smirked. "I make no promises." Because really. Love or not, this was going to be mocking gold.

Thankfully for Regina's future plans, Emma chose to diplomatically ignore that she'd even spoken, instead wringing her hands and bouncing on the balls of her feet somewhat self-consciously before going straight into the song. Surprisingly –or perhaps not so surprising at all, considering that this was the daughter of the woman who sang to assorted forest creatures on a semi-regular basis—Emma had a fair singing voice. Untrained, but undeniably pleasant. Regina hummed approvingly even before she really listened to the lyrics.

"Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day. For love may come in and tap you on your shoulder some starless night. Just in case you feel you want to hold her, you'll have a pocketful of starlight. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day. Save it for a rainy day."

Once done, Emma cleared her throat awkwardly as Regina smirked at her discomfort and gave her a somewhat mocking golf clap as a reward for the impromptu performance. "That's… just a bit of it, but you get the idea," the blonde muttered, returning to her seat on the bench and avoiding eye contact. "Just like your wish story, but… more musical, I guess."

Regina nodded her agreement. "I liked it," she admitted. Catching stars that were already fallen sounded much better to her than chasing the ones still in the sky.

Emma gave her the sort of wry almost-smile that said she knew exactly what Regina was thinking before she got back to her feet and extended her hand. "Come on. I'll poof you home," she offered. "You can sleep this off, and Henry and I can stop by for lunch tomorrow. We can plug him in to the playstation, and then we can talk about what happened tonight without the revenge drugs giving me an unfair advantage."

Suddenly nervous at the prospect of both transportation –because Emma had only just learned to 'poof' and had never done so with a passenger—and the looming talk –because this, here, when Emma had gone out of her way and out of her comfort zone to make her feel better, was so much better than facing reality—Regina hesitated for a long moment before finally extending her own hand and clamping it firmly in Emma's. The blonde graciously helped her to her feet before screwing up her face in concentration and summoning her magic, sending a heady surge of energy through Regina's body before the pair of them vanished in a billow of blue smoke. Amongst the residual wisps of magic, only the weather-worn bench was left behind, motionless and lonely beneath a sky full of unfallen stars.

A/N: Please drop a review and let me know what you think!