Henry's room is big, bigger than Emma expects, and it's filled with toys and books and everything she's dreamed of as a kid. She realizes she never stopped to think of what Henry had with Regina, and as she faces the sight of it under the beam of her flashlight, it makes her stomach knot with the kind of emotions she runs from – and that's exactly what she does.
She runs, and barges straight Regina's room with a scowl on her face and a ready excuse on her tongue that she spits out impulsively:
"You know what, your bed's big enough for us both, and I'll sleep better knowing you aren't trying to sneak off in the middle of the night without me."
Regina turns down the bed without so much as batting an eye, both to show Emma that she isn't interested in petty arguments, and because her body is far too sore and tired for another fight. She fluffs up an extra pillow and hands it to Emma, then slips between the sheets and faces the opposite wall. She's determined to keep some distance between them, even though they've never been closer – physically, or otherwise - and now there is no one else in Storybrooke to act as a buffer between them. "Make yourself comfortable," she offers, although she doubts either of them will be able to rest with the knowledge that Henry is somewhere in a distant land, fending for himself.
Emma sighs and she isn't sure if it's from relief or exhaustion. Her fingers curl around the plush pillow and she holds it against herself like a shield as the brunette lies down in the bed.
For all her bravado, Emma falters before finally slipping under the sheets, and balances precariously close to the edge of the bed with her back to Regina. Even though her body is weary and her eyes are stinging, she can only think of Henry; still, she forces her eyes shut and tries desperately to stop her thoughts from wondering where he is or what he's doing, and if anyone is with him. For the first time in a long time, Emma actually wishes that her parents were here, then she frowns, and wishes instead that they find Henry so that at least he'll be safe and loved until they're all reunited.
"For the record," Regna flatly states, interrupting Emma's thoughts, "if I wanted to leave you here by yourself, I would have been long gone. I need you to get my son back."
"Our son." Emma growls out against her pillow, then punches it for good measure. "He's our son, whether we like it or not, so deal with it and get over yourself."
Regina would have preferred to let their disagreement go, but Emma is providing her with a perfect opportunity and she can't afford to waste any time with the savior's training. "You haven't earned the right to call him yours," she hisses through clenched teeth, knowing just what to say to rile her target, "you hardly even know anything about him."
"Tell me, Emma, what was his first word?"
She waits a beat, and allows her attack to sink in to Emma's thick skull; then her eyes gleam triumphantly and her lips curl into a menacing smile. "Oh, that's right. You have no idea."
For a while, she leaves Emma in suspense; she's facing the younger woman now, but with the shadows all around them, she can't see Emma's face. She can only imagine Emma's distraught look, like a dumb and confused puppy that was just smacked with a newspaper but doesn't have the good sense to run away.
"His first word was 'mommy,'" Regina gloats. "And he was talking about me, Ms. Swan. Not you. You don't become someone's mother by showing up. It takes work to have a family. You missed out on so much with him, and now you are missing out on more of his life, because of your selfishness..."
Emma shakes her head in disbelief and rolls onto her other side to glare at Regina in the darkness, though all she sees is a slightly darker lump in the bed. Hearing what Henry's first word was, and knowing that Regina felt pride in it – well, that cuts straight to the bone and she winces as if she's been struck before anger takes over.
Emma swallows back the rage as best she can but it still bubbles up inside her and falls, frothing from her lips as she hisses back, "You want to play that game, fine. What's his favorite movie? How about the name of his first crush? Oh wait, you have no idea because he doesn't talk to you like that, does he? I might not have been there for his first words or his first steps or when he lost his baby teeth but guess what, Regina? It's me he tells his hopes and dreams to, it's me he wants to stay with, and it'll be me he runs to when we find him because you might have raised him, but he's a part of me. It's my blood coursing through his veins, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Regina stays calm and softly replies, "Oh, there's plenty I can do, but that's not what this is about." She should be seething and eager to retaliate, but instead she's level headed and completely in control. "How are you feeling right now? Are you jealous? Angry? Use that negative emotion and channel it into a spell. You shut out all of your feelings, both bad and good - but you can't do that if you want to tap into dark magic. You must allow it to burn in and through you. Let it hurt you so you can hurt me."
"What?" Emma frowns in confusion and finds herself getting more irrationally angry. Of course this was some kind of test or lesson. She feels stupid that it didn't click sooner, but the idea of hurting Regina is what makes her listen.
She closes her eyes and lets herself contemplate the thought of choking the life out of the brunette. She can practically see the woman's lips turn blue in her mind, can see her gasping for air as her fingers squeeze ruthlessly around her windpipe, and as the anger burns inside her she feels sick, but it only fuels her on.
For all the lonely nights as child, for all the shit Regina put her through, Emma gives into the darkness without any fight. She allows herself to feel powerful in the fantasy.
The bedspread moves and coils around Regina's throat, strangling her even as her lips curl back in a dangerous smile. She finds the spell harder to break than she predicted, and she's out of breath by the time she sends the offending blanket into a retreat. Her forehead throbs as the blood rushes back into her brain, and she's dizzy for a moment when she sits up and strikes back.
Instead of merely choking Emma with the blanket, Regina strings the savior up from the ceiling, turning the blanket into a web; and she is the spider, ready to devour and digest her student.
Until she remembers her goal.
Saving Henry. That was the whole purpose of this, and if she didn't stop to remind herself of that, she could very well end up killing Emma Swan. With that thought in mind, she exercises self-restraint and releases Emma from her hold.
The noise that escapes Emma is shamefully like a child's screech, and she hits the bed with enough force to bloody her nose. Disoriented and shaken, she lifts herself up only to be slapped hard enough to make her teeth snap shut.
"No more of that," Regina spits, as her hand stings from smacking Emma. "Learn to have better control over your emotions. You already know how to put up a wall, so that shouldn't be a problem for you. You could have killed me."
Emma reels for a second, then lunges at Regina as she snarls, "You told me to do it!" Her hands struggle to find purchase on the brunette's shirt as she pins her down to scream in her face, "I should kill you! This is all your fault! Everything that's happened is because of you!"
Regina won't tolerate this behavior from Emma, not for any reason - but she's bone weary and her latest display of power has left her feeling enervated. "Let go," she spits.
In a physical fight that doesn't rely on magic, Emma overpowers her ten-to-one, but Regina still bucks against the stronger woman and growls out, "If you aren't strong enough to handle one little test, then you'll never save Henry! Kill me or get off of me... "
Regina's a walking contradiction and Emma's at the end of her rope, so she lets her fingers claw at the brunette's skin as she pulls her face up to glare into the woman's eyes with a snarl.
"You're pathetic." Emma shoves the brunette roughly with the intent to send her off the bed, but she doesn't stick around to see if she succeeds. Instead she gets up and marches towards the door, and slams it shut as she exits.
She's halfway down the stairs, in the pitch black, when she decides where she wants to go. Gold's shop must have something, she reasons, that could help her get Henry back. Or at the very least help her control her power - or harness it, or something. Anything. Emma doesn't care that she's storming off - she just doesn't trust herself not to beat the brunette into a bloody pulp if she stays.