Regina stared down at the shot glass in front of her, running a finger around it's rim idly. She'd swallowed the contents long ago and now had a glass of whiskey sitting next to her right hand, the ice slowly melting. This was when she'd usually have downed a bottle of wine, gotten over it and gone to bed. But she didn't much feel like drinking tonight. She had thought she had, but when the alcohol was actually in front of her one sip had told her this was not in fact what she wanted.
She'd tried so hard, so so hard to move on. Most days she could. Most days she was fine and it didn't matter. Most people had moved on with her, had accepted her as she was now and weren't clinging onto who she had been. But every now and then, a smaller, more bitter, more hurt human being would make a point of standing up and letting her know that actually, not everyone had forgotten. Not everyone had forgiven. She had to wonder if she would ever really move on from it all. The difference now, was that she no longer felt indifferent to them. They were no longer just small peasant folk, bugs to be squashed under her boot, sometimes literally. It was like everyone had grown and suddenly they were all on equal ground. They weren't toys for her amusement any more they were real people, real people with feelings as deep as hers and stories as long as hers. And sorrow and anger that went deeper than hers. Because she was the cause of it.
She sighed heavily, pushing the drink away.
"Change that to a cocoa please Granny," she said, and Granny gave her a small sympathetic nod, taking the drink away. She needed a little comfort tonight. Alcohol wasn't going to cut it. It was late. She was surprised that Granny hadn't kicked her out after about ten. There were no other drinkers left. No diners. Only her. Until she heard the little tinkle of the bell on the front door. She looked up to see a familiar blonde head and red leather jacket enter the diner. Just what she needed. Miss Swan.
"What, no important Mayor-ing to do on a Tuesday night at ten pm?" Emma grinned, plonking herself onto the stool next to Regina. Regina looked away as Granny handed her the drink, suddenly feeling foolish. She must look like a child sitting here clutching a mug of cocoa and cream.
"How do you know this isn't important Mayor-ing?" she said, arching a brow at her before taking up the teaspoon and swiping off the tip of the cream. Emma grinned at her and went to dip her finger in the other woman's cream but Regina scowled at her, smacking her hand away.
"Manners sheriff," she scolded. "You're worse than Henry," she muttered, taking a sip from her mug, both hands wrapped around it. It sounded lack lustre though, her chiding only half hearted, energyless. Emma frowned, leaning her elbows on the bar top.
"You're scalding is lacking bite this evening Regina," she said. "Something up?" Regina sighed, sipping at her cocoa again.
"I don't want to talk about it Emma please… just, let's not." But Emma was relentless. She always had been. Regina should be used to the Sheriff doing the exact opposite of what she always told her to by now.
"No something's eating you up I can see it," Emma persisted, making Regina roll her eyes. "Come on you're sitting all alone at Granny's at ten at night drinking cocoa. Something is either extremely up, or you've had a weird personality transplant," she grinned.
"I have not had personality transplant Swan," Regina muttered, sipping at the drink again, refusing to make eye contact.
"So something is very up. Regina come on spill. You know it'll help." Regina glowered at what little cream was left floating on the top of her cocoa.
"It's stupid. I should be over this by now," she sighed quietly.
"Regina, if it's bothering you this much, it can't be stupid." The softness of Emma's voice was what made Regina look up, her dark eyes softening somewhat. She looked surprise at the care lacing the blonde's words and her walls finally deflated.
"No matter how hard I try, not matter how much I think I've moved on and I think I'm at peace with my past, every now and again someone crops up, someone who hasn't forgiven me. And they bring it all back. They remind me of everything I was and everything I hate about who I was. They bring back all the pain that got me there and all the guilt I now feel about it all. I'm doing great and then suddenly, someone pushing me back down." She seems to say it all in a single breath, like the words were rushing out of her in a whoosh of final release. Emma wondered how long she'd been holding all this in. She wondered how many times she'd been pushed back down. "And it just, makes me question whether I'll ever be allowed to move on from it all properly." These last words were said with a dangerous sparkle in those large dark eyes. The glitter of sadness tugged at Emma's heart, made her throat close and she reached out and put her hand over the mayor's, giving it a soft squeeze. To her surprise Regina didn't protest. She just looked at them, sad and tired, relishing the kind gesture.
"We never outrun our past completely," Emma sighed. "You know Henry still sometimes says things, little things, that remind me of the fact that on a deep level, sometimes he still hurts over the fact that I gave him up. He doesn't mean to hurt me and he doesn't mean to make me feel guilty but, sometimes it just slips out." Regina looked up at her, hurt mirrored in blue and brown. She returned the soft squeeze to her hand. "But that doesn't mean he hasn't forgiven me. And it doesn't mean most importantly that I haven't changed. And that's the bit that matters right?" Regina looked back down at her drink, feeling Emma's thumb stroke gently back and forth across the soft skin of the back of her hand. Still she didn't withdraw it. It tingled gently. Her thumb wasn't quite soft, but dry and warm, and the action was soothing. It grounded her.
"But there are so many people who haven't forgiven me. And it makes me wonder if evil can ever be forgiven. If evil can ever truly change." Her words were a soft, unsure murmur. They held an almost childlike uncertainty to them.
"You're not evil Regina," Emma said quietly. "And we both know that you have change, a lot. Do you really think the Evil Queen would be sitting here letting me hold her hand?" she grinned. Regina gave a weak little laugh and looked up at her.
"She's probably have turned you into a dog or something. Or killed you, depending on how nice she was feeling." The blonde's grin widened further still.
"I think I'd make and adorable puppy," she laughed. "But you see what I mean? You have changed Regina. It'll just take time for some people to forgive you and recognise that is all." Regina gave a tiny smile, picking up her cocoa with her free hand and drained it. It was odd, how this woman had gone from being the main source of ire and irritation in her life to a source of comfort. It was something she was, really rather glad of.
"You'd be an annoying puppy," she said, smirking a little. "You'd be clingy, and loud." Emma laughed, and distinctly thought she heard Granny give a small snort from where she was hiding away polishing the cutlery in the corner.
"Mmm but I'm so cute you'd love me anyway," Emma grinned hopefully. Regina side eyed her.
"Maybe, maybe not," she grinned. Though the one thing she would admit to, was that she'd be cute. Emma was always cute.