A/N: Thank you so much to all of you who have started reading this story! I hope you continue to enjoy it. I truly appreciate the reviews and all of the follows/favorites! There was supposed to be a lot more of Regina and Emma talking in this chapter, but it felt like it made the update way too long, so I decided to stop it with a minor cliffy ending instead. The kind of good news is that that means the next update is pretty much written and just needs some editing, so you won't have to wait too long for it. Thanks again for reading and, please, let me know what you think.
Chapter 2: I Won't Say I'm In Love
Emma tossed her body to the right. Barely a minute later, she flung herself onto her back. A beat passed, and she was turning onto her left side again. A hand slid beneath the pillow that had gone from too puffy for Emma's liking, to feeling flatter than a pancake, so she used the arm that slipped under it to bunch it up. An exasperated sigh rushed from her mouth and blew onto the cotton material that met the side of her head. Her eyes burned with tiredness as they adjusted to the moonlight beaming directly through the darkness in a steady stream from the large window across the room. And for the fourth hour since she'd climbed under the giant quilt that covered her bed, Emma wasn't falling asleep for beans.
Everything felt uncomfortable, empty, achy, and sick. Tears that had stopped trickling down her cheeks two hours ago, still remained in the light salty taste in her mouth and the itchy stains on her cheeks. Dreams that had woken her night after night haunted her, while the horrible day she'd had replayed over and over again in her head. There would be no solace or relief for her this night, just as there hadn't been any other night, aside from the rare miracle of restful sleep she'd experienced nearly four months ago at Regina's former castle.
An uncontrollable groan that weakened to a sob rose from her throat, and Emma buried her head further into the covered pillow of soft feathers.
She needed to leave.
She needed to run.
But there was Henry filling her mind...and her parents and Red and Neal and Ella and Jiminy-so many people appearing in her head and reminding her she would be missed just as much as she would miss them. Emma knew she couldn't go; not forever. Yet, what she was going through wasn't healthy. And now it was beginning to not only affect her, but those around her.
Admittedly, it had been just a little exciting at first: the return to the Enchanted Forest. They had used the magic beans, jumped through their individual portals, and ended up in the mostly destroyed fairy tale world. No matter how hopeless the barren world looked around them, Emma could sense the resilience and determination coming from beneath it. In a way, it felt like the land around her was aware she could restore it and bring life pulsing back through it. The spirit of the world had flowed through her, letting her know it was more than ready to be reborn. A new future was waiting to begin.
That fortitude and strength that connected with her, had Emma believing that she, too, was ready for this new life. It had her ready to endure whatever initial battles she and the others would face, but also, left her longing to find out what this world would bring her and what she would add to it. All of that made leaving Storybrooke-leaving Regina, temporarily bearable. Unfortunately, the hope and belief in a bright future for her and her family gradually weakened, no matter how determinedly she tried to hold on to it.
The first week had been a struggle. Rumpelstiltskin—trying to be a better person, mostly because of Belle and his late son's memory—had worked with Emma. They'd used their combined magic to restore what had been damaged by the curse. What they couldn't do, the fairy dust that they had mined by the end of that first week, did. Then, everything was back to what it once was, but with some modern conveniences, such as, refrigerators and indoor plumbing, which had been incorporated into the magical remodeling to make living a little easier. Emma and Henry were especially thankful for these, since they'd never lived in a world without them.
But after nearly four months since the successful war against the ogres had occurred, during which Emma's time had been filled with princess lessons, sword fighting, Mulan showing up at the castle with a believed-to-be-dead Neal, magic lessons taught by Rumpelstiltskin and supervised by the Blue Fairy, and three celebratory balls where she had danced (less than gracefully) with people her parents called suitors, Emma was overwhelmed, exhausted, and close to miserable. And on top of that, she felt lost. The fourth ball, that had been held earlier that night, had finally pushed her to the point where all she wanted was to get away.
Emma had danced with so many different men that she regretted not having brought a bottle or ten of hand sanitizer back to the Enchanted Forest with her. By the time she was in the arms of some duke, who introduced himself as Teddy, Emma's feet were tingling uncomfortably and she thought the poor guy was going to end up having to hold her up, while they finished gliding around the room.
They spoke briefly about Henry, who was watching them intently from across the dance floor, just as he had watched his mom dance with every other eligible bachelor. Every time she'd switched partners he had given her a thumbs up or a thumbs down, letting her know whether any of the men received her son's approval and were worth a second dance. Unfortunately, downward facing thumbs seemed to be Henry's gesture of choice for most of the night, which resulted in Emma's becoming the eye roll.
Teddy brought Emma's attention back to himself by saying he remembered how unhappy the boy had been when he'd seen him at Granny's with Regina, a few days before Emma had arrived in Storybrooke.
"Yeah, that was a tough time for him," Emma commented vaguely, being polite and trying to make conversation, even though, Teddy sounded like he was about to butt in to something that was none of his business.
"It's good that he's free of her now. That witch didn't deserve to return to this land, and she certainly didn't deserve a loving family. Not that the boy could actually lo-"
Without any thought whatsoever about the way her hand clenched into a fist and rose up, shooting through the space between their bodies, Emma felt the buzzing sting in her skin and bones as her knuckles connected forcefully with Teddy's nose. The angry heat that had shot throughout her body during Teddy's opinionated speech, disappeared through the punch, and Emma sobered immediately at the sight of the blood rushing from his nose. Her other hand flew to her mouth in shock. The music the orchestra had been playing came to a screechy stop, and Emma could sense hundreds of eyes staring at them. The next thing she knew, Snow's strong arm was pulling her away from Teddy, while David and Neal made sure that the duke wasn't seriously injured and wouldn't try to go after Emma.
"She's crazy!" Emma heard Teddy gasp out from across the room, his voice sounding odd from his inability to breathe properly through his gushing nose. "Defending the Evil Queen! We should have executed the bitch when we had the chance!"
Emma tensed in her mother's arms, and it took most of Snow's strength to keep her daughter from spinning around and going over to finish the job of breaking Teddy's nose. When they had finally made their way out of the ballroom, through one corridor of the palace, and turned down another, Snow stopped them.
"What the hell was that?" The concerned woman forced Emma to meet her eyes.
"I don't want to talk about it," Emma mumbled uneasily, still not completely believing she'd done what she'd done.
"We'll be lucky if the duke doesn't press charges. Have you forgotten actions like that come with consequences? At this rate, you'll be lucky if he drops the whole thing," Snow finished her reprimanding with a stern look, before her eyes softened and she teased a little more lightly, "And I'm guessing it'll be a while before anyone offers to dance with you again."
"Maybe I don't want to dance with anyone!" Emma snapped, seeing the hurt that flashed across Snow's face. Her green eyes winced closed, and her face became contorted with regret and shame at the tone she had directed at her mother. "I'm sorry. I know…I know you just want me to be happy and want me to find someone I can be happy with."
"As much as I want that for you, I don't want to force you to be with someone you don't actually want to be with. It's still your life, Emma."
"I'm a mom. It's not just my life. Nothing about this has been just about me," Emma exhaled shakily. "If it was…"
Snow took her hand. "Henry has you and Neal. Don't pressure yourself into a relationship just because you're worried he needs more than that. He doesn't. And I'm so sorry you're not happy."
"It's not that I'm not happy. I have you, David, Henry, our friends…things don't completely suck," Emma attempted the slightest bit of a crooked smile, letting her mother know her words were mostly true, even if she wasn't fully content with her life.
"And yet, your smile rarely reaches your eyes, there's a sadness and regret every time you think no one sees you looking at Henry, and then, tonight a man says something you don't like about Regina and you're punching him in the face. Tell me why that is."
"He deserved that," Emma grunted unapologetically, not elaborating on her actions.
"Uh-huh. So, it was just because he was rude? It had nothing to do with whatever reason I found you curled up in Regina's old bed the morning after we spent the night at her castle?"
Snow stared at her knowingly, causing Emma to immediately feel self-conscious under the intent look. "Is this going to cause a problem for you and David? I mean your kingdom's not going to become socially black-listed or something because I overreacted?"
Snow sighed in defeat at Emma's avoidance of Regina's being mentioned, and ran a hand comfortingly over the blonde curls of her daughter's hair. "No, it shouldn't. You're not the first person who hasn't appreciated the duke's blunt way of stating his opinions. But I wouldn't advise punching anyone else. A man with injured pride isn't someone I care to deal with."
Surprisingly, a short laugh escaped Emma. "Noted. Don't worry, next time I'll try to control my fist better."
Yes, perhaps when you feel the need to defend Regina in the future, you could step on the person's foot. Make it seem like an accident, then politely tell them what a jerk they are when you curtsy at the end of the dance," Snow suggested with a conspiring smile and wicked glint in her eye, which had Emma raising an eyebrow with an expression that was caught between slightly amused and shocked.
"You should probably go wash your face with some cold water," Snow motioned to a door down the hall.
"Yeah, thanks," Emma smiled and lifted a hand to feel that her cheeks were still warm and, no doubt, flushed from emotion. "I think I'm just going to go back to my room after that. I'm not in the mood for more dancing and socializing."
"Understandable," Snow sent her a small smile back and kissed her cheek, before stepping away. "I'll be in my room in about an hour if you need to talk."
Emma nodded. "Do you think David would mind tucking Henry in?"
"No, I'll help him."
"Thank you," Emma said gratefully and made her way to the bathroom.
She entered the large room that her mother insisted she put multiple stalls in, since this would be the bathroom on the main floor of the palace and most convenient for guests to use during festivities.
The reflection Emma's eyes met in the large mirror over the sink looked almost unrecognizable to her. In the relatively bright glow of the oil lamps hanging in different places on the pale walls and ceiling, she studied the layers of make-up covering her face. That afternoon, Emma had tried to hide everything from the sickly pale shade her skin had become, to the puffy bags and dark circles under her eyes. It amazed her that her face was so flushed now; she could see the red tinges of anger and sadness creeping out from beneath the tons of foundation and concealer. Dark mascara, she noticed, had also found a way to mix and smudge with her eyeliner, so when she took in the way it looked with the deep shade of red lipstick she wore, she thought she had caught sight of a crying clown.
In other words, she looked as tired, emotional, and pathetic as she had been feeling lately.
Her hand twisted the cold water on and Emma allowed it to run for a few seconds, before lowering her hands to cup the rush of liquid that chilled them. The coldness stung her face as it splashed against her skin, and her hands moved roughly over her cheeks, eyes, and lips. Black, red, and pale beige tones all washed into the sink and swirled down the drain. Emma splashed more water onto her face and rubbed over and over again, until the mask that had covered her was erased. Then, she dipped her hands under the brass faucet one last time.
"Nice right hook you've got there, Princess," The flirtatious voice behind her made Emma jump, and the water rising in her hands splattered all over the area around the off-white sink. "Sorry, I thought you heard me come in."
Emma's eyes lifted to the mirror in front of her and her vision locked with that of the woman standing near the door, who was wearing a long dress that was more purple than it was pink. The eyes that stared into hers looked almost violet, and Emma wondered if it was the lighting or if they really were such a rare color. The emotion behind them was gentle and playful, yet Emma perceived a fierceness to them.
"No," Emma told her quietly. "I was kind of caught up in my own thoughts."
"About Duke Theodore, I'm assuming. Or maybe banished evil queens that dukes shout angry nonsense about because they know they can't hold a candle to them." The woman stepped toward her confidently, a light smirk twisting her lips. Emma watched as she brushed the long, reddish-brown waves of her hair back over her shoulder. There was a chuckle when Emma didn't respond, her lips parted like she was a kid who had just been caught red-handed sneaking cookies from the cookie jar. "That's alright, I've always been good at denying my feelings, too. I'm Meg."
A part of Emma wanted to feel threatened by how easily this stranger had read her, but there was something about the fair-skinned woman with the high cheeks that she found alluring.
"Emma," She attempted to return the smile.
After that, everything happened in a barely memorable rush. Meg had stayed beside Emma to fix her own makeup in the mirror, while she listened to Emma rant about Teddy and a few of the other men she'd danced with. While she was rambling on about everything from her dance partners to her parents to Regina, Emma hadn't even been sure why she was finding it so easy to tell the other woman everything. But soon, Meg had begun venting her own problems.
She had told Emma about her "Hercules of a boyfriend", who had claimed he knew she could deal with her own problems and didn't need anyone to save her, but a few weeks ago he'd become so controlling and protective that Meg had ended things with him. According to her rant, she was done with men for good. Then, she was saying how women were more attractive anyway, and usually, made a relationship worth the effort that was put into it.
It wasn't until now, when Emma was alone in her bed and trying (but failing) to fall asleep, that it hit her that Meg had meant she'd literally dated Hercules. The blonde had been lying in the darkness an hour ago, trying to forget about what had happened between herself and the other woman, when she had randomly realized who Meg was. The Disney movie that she'd watched back in the late nineties while babysitting her foster siblings at the time popped into her head, and she remembered the sassy, witty, tough Megara, who'd fallen for Hercules. Her eyes squinted shut and she pinched her nose, feeling her head whirl at the fact that she'd almost allowed that Meg to go way past first base with her. Luckily, Emma's mind had caught on to what was happening in time for her to push the brunette away and apologize for having led her on.
Now, all Emma wanted was to make the knot in her stomach disappear when she thought about the way Meg had pushed her up against the bathroom door and kissed her. She wanted to forget the way she had deepened the kiss, while simultaneously turning the lock on the door behind her. She wanted to push away all thoughts of how fingers had tangled into hair and how hands had managed to send dresses hiking up legs. She just wanted to erase all of it: the memory of the first woman she had kissed in years. Hell, the first person she'd kissed since Graham. The irrational guilt flooding her that she didn't understand; and the insanity of whom she actually caught herself thinking of midway through the heated make-out session.
She couldn't remember the excuses she had uttered afterward, but Meg had assured her that she understood. There was even respect in her voice when she commended Emma for not just letting them both take advantage of some convenient rebound sex. Although, at that, Emma had insisted there was no one she was rebounding from. Then, the next thing Emma had known, Meg was saying how Regina was a lucky woman to have someone who felt so deeply for her. After that, she had closed the bathroom door behind her, leaving Emma to slide down the tiled wall, her head falling into her hands.
What the hell had she been thinking (or not thinking)? If she was feeling guilty and regretful now from some kissing and touching, she couldn't imagine how dirty she would have felt if they had gone further than that. She was too exhausted and her emotions were currently too raw for there to be much logic in anything she did. Especially, when she'd been wanting to kiss Regina while she had been kissing Meg. That was unacceptable and wrong. It wasn't who she was or wanted to be.
Ugh! All of it had brought Emma back to the conclusion that she needed a vacation. Except, in the Enchanted Forest there weren't many—if any—places she could run off to. There were no tropical islands; no Disneyland or World; no big cities filled with skyscrapers and things to do. She got out of the bed she had collapsed in and started pacing. There had to be some way out for just a little while.
That was what she had been acting on when Meg had initiated the kiss. Emma had found her caring, attractive, and surprisingly easy to talk to, and it had her craving something that didn't feel complicated or out of reach. For a minute, there had been no loss or inexplicable loneliness. Plus, she could tell Meg was far from the few insufferable pigs she had danced with and was more than a man hoping to inherit a kingdom. That's why she couldn't believe Regina had broken into her thoughts and consumed her. Clearly, there was some unrelenting unfinished business she had with Regina, who had probably pressed on with her life like the strong, adapting woman she was. She'd plowed through darkness and had always found ways to survive.
Emma could picture her currently sitting behind her desk as Mayor of Storybrooke, shrugging off any regret or unresolved feelings she might have; moving on the same way she'd expected Henry and Emma to, so that she could continue to bring success and accomplishment to the town around her, and through it, to herself. Emma almost envied her for it. Wishing she could manage to let go of the woman she was never going to see again. It aggravated her that even from another realm Regina was invading her thoughts, messing with her brain, and infuriating Emma with the way she was disrupting her life and chances at a happy ending. As unintentional as it obviously was on Regina's part, she was driving Emma crazy to the point where she was finding it hard to decide whether she missed her, was furious with her, wanted to strangle her, or wanted to kiss her. And it made her wonder if she had crossed Regina's mind at all since she'd left her in the other land that had once been her home, too. Yet, whenever she remembered the warmth and tears that shone in brown eyes as Regina reluctantly pulled away from her the night before they'd left, something stirred in Emma, giving her her answer.
With a few petty stomps, Emma went to swiftly lift up the soft mattress stuffed with way too many feathers. Beneath it, in the corner, there was the small pouch she had hidden there weeks ago. Inside, she had secretly stored her three magic beans for safe keeping. She stared at them. Their soft, magical glow mesmerized her, and she felt the strong temptation to employ them as her means of escape. The problem was that even if she used one to open a portal, she'd have to eventually use another to get back from wherever she went, and then she'd only be left with one bean. However, her mind reminded her that one was enough in the event of a random catastrophe where she'd have to grab Henry and leave the magical realm.
She stared down at the enchanted beans, considering if she really should waste them. It would be her only chance, and what would happen if she felt this suffocating feeling again a month or two from now? But she desperately needed a change of scenery; something different. It wasn't even that she wanted to go somewhere more exciting. Emma just needed space and time to convince herself that she'd made the right choice in following her parents back to their home, instead of keeping Henry with her in Storybrooke. This wouldn't be the type of running away she was a pro at, but more of a temporary escape to get her heart and head back to where they needed to be, if that was even possible. Sleepless nights due to dreams where Regina was taken away or killed weren't working for her anymore, and neither were the feelings of unhappiness and regret swirling through her.
Being the brilliant person that she was, it suddenly struck Emma that the best way to make any of this better would be to pay a visit to Storybrooke. That would prove to her it was all in her head and she had only built up an ideal memory of it in her mind. She'd show herself that there was nothing to miss there. Seeing Regina might also help to quell her growing feelings for the woman and would aid in convincing her that their escalation was the result of some kind of homesickness. That reality was painted a lot differently than what her mind convinced her to see. Or at least those were the reasons she used to effectively persuade herself, before she could tuck the pouch and the magic beans back under her bed.
Gathering her sword, a brown leather bag with some necessities, and her cloak, she moved down the hall, stopping by the door to Henry's room. It had crossed her mind to inquire if he wanted to come along, but Emma realized there were many reasons she needed to go back alone. The one that really decided it for her was reuniting a mother and son, only to have to force them to part again. She couldn't cause Regina and Henry that kind of heartbreak a second time.
She pushed the door open and quickly peered in, then, reached over to leave a folded note on the nightstand beside the bed Henry was fast asleep in. She'd written that she'd be back within the next week and that he should behave for his grandparents. An afterthought had also been scribbled on the bottom of the paper, telling Snow and David not to worry; that she was traveling to somewhere safe and would be back soon. Making her way over to the bed, she gently stroked Henry's hair with a soft smile that had emotion gathering in her throat and behind her eyes.
Then, she sneaked out of the castle and left the grounds, finding her way into the forest. With little hesitation, once she felt she had traveled far enough through the trees, Emma dropped a bean and watched the ground come to life, swirling and waiting for her to enter the abyss it had opened. She swallowed before leaping into it, and it closed over her as she fell and floated and crashed onto a softer surface than the dirt or concrete she'd expected.
A startled cry filled Emma's ears, before she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings, seeing a familiar face glaring down at her.
"Miss Swan, what the hell are you doing here?" Regina growled.
No matter how intimidating it was supposed to be, the familiar tone and the woman behind it had a warm feeling tingling throughout Emma. That, and immediately realizing how good it felt to be back—like she was finally where she belonged and could breathe easily again—had one thing rushing through her head: This was where she wanted to be and that meant she was screwed for so many reasons.
Now, what was she going to do?