The Past:

"I can't take it anymore, Regina! You sit there in your privacy with your secrets and I'm over here flailing like an...like an idiot, trying to understand you. Trying to compromise. Trying to wait for the day that you'll open up."

Regina barely twitched an eyebrow. She gazed out the window-looked straight passed the thick glass and out at the moon that seemed larger than usual that night. Full. She heard a wolf's howl in the distance.

"I am giving everything I can, Emma," she whispered. The comforter bulged at her bare breasts, covering them as she indignantly crossed her arms. She was nude under the sheets above her, having only just finished making love to the now exasperated woman in front of her a mere fifteen minutes earlier.

That was the thing about them. There was too much passion and they were too different to understand one another. Where Regina was heads on the coin of life, Emma was most certainly tails.

Emma bit her lip and stared hard at the two peaked points of Regina's sheet-covered knees. There were a million thoughts running through her mind, each one louder than the one before.

"I know," the blonde finally squeaked out. Regina smiled sadly, her head shaking slightly as she turned her attention back to her lover. She took in Emma's defeated posture. The way the over sized T-shirt clung to bits and pieces of her and gathered sluggishly in other sections.

She may be broken, but she sure was beautiful.

"Do you?" she asked solemnly. Emma's eyes raised. Incredulous. Heart broken. And then Regina saw it:

Devastation.

It was shining in the corners of her lover's blue-green eyes. It was locked up in the black drop of the pupil. It was in the spidery blood vessels that were welling with emotion. It was in the quivering lip she was hiding by means of her teeth chomped over flesh. It was the way every part of her was still, save for her fidgeting hands in her lap that were twisting at the bed sheets.

The dam broke and flooded inside Regina's chest. She was killing her. She really, truly was. The woman she loved more than anything on the planet was morphing into just another thing she would touch and shatter.

Emma's jaw unlocked and bobbed up and down as she fought to find the proper terminology. What do you say when you know you've been caught? What do you do when your best isn't enough?

"Regina...baby, I am trying," she finally relinquished, her voice cracking at the end.

Regina wanted to cry, but she wouldn't. She wanted to stop everything, but she couldn't. She wanted to wrap her arms around the blonde, wanted to wrap a noose around her neck for knowing she was stripping Emma of the very wings that made her a Swan. It was as if with each withheld piece of information, with each call that went unanswered, with every plan she had to cancel, she was plucking her feathers, one by one.

She was in love with this woman...could she really let that continue to happen?

Emma would let her. Emma thought she was strong enough to take it. But here they sat, Regina's emotions lodged in her throat as Emma tugged at the now fraying ends of the comforter. They were both masters of masks, but at the end of the day, who would wear it better?

And then, Regina had an idea. One she knew would cost her everything. But maybe, if she executed it correctly, it could save her beautiful savior.

"Come here, beautiful. Come lay with me. Let's fall asleep together."


Regina sat in that same bed now. Alone. A glass of Merlot rested elegantly in her hand as she remembered the last night she and the blonde had spent together as a couple. The last time they were in a true, albeit secretive, relationship.

Emma didn't show up that night. She told herself that that was a good thing-that maybe Emma's subconscious was healing again. Maybe she was forgetting her again. And that was good. That...was good...

Right?

Of course, Regina thought to herself. It's what's best for her. Being free of me is what's best for her. I have done enough damage.

The mayor of Storybrooke was a vault no matter who she was with or what the circumstance. Every time she let love in, it ruined her. And the people she loved didn't escape without being completely damaged themselves.

She remembered the first time she met Emma. Strong and capable and loyal. Blonde hair down to there, eyes that made you want to tell the truth, and a heart that was caged behind a heavy padlock (for it bled easily). The woman had caught Regina right by the mind, and then by the heart, and slowly the mayor began developing feelings she hadn't allowed herself to feel in ages. Not since her first love, who she had sworn would be her last.

But then...Emma.

When she had made the decision all those months ago to wipe Emma's memory of the two of them, she had done it selflessly. She didn't want to hurt the person she loved any longer. She didn't want to be yet another person's breaking point.

It had worked at first. She went to Mr. Gold, voice tart and terse as she explained what it was she desired. The only thing he had asked for in return was a future favor. She was hesitant at first, for his favors often ended in disaster, but then soon realized: what could be more disastrous than being responsible for her lover's undoing?

So she accepted through clenched teeth and sweaty palms; her brow furrowed and beaded with the sweat of nerves. The man fumbled around in a medicine cabinet in the back of his store that creaked and groaned when he opened it. He had fiddled his fingers and then plucked the potion out from the upper left hand corner. The burgundy liquid sloshed and gleamed with a silvery quality, as if it had been dipped in a sheen of silk. She pocketed it after gazing at it momentarily.

"Slip it in her cabernet sauvignon when next you dine, and the love you two share will be..." he waved a mystical hand in front of her face, "erased entirely."

She had kept her distance from Emma that next day. She knew if she had contact with her, she would break. She craved the goodness she found in her lover's heart; it almost kept her cold soul warm. But she knew the longer she let Emma stay in love with her, the darker and more frigid her partner would become. And she couldn't allow that to happen.

Emma was born to live in the light, and Regina was casting too steep of a shadow.

That night she had made dinner. Lamb, asparagus, mashed potatoes, and buttered rolls. Emma had a thing for bread, so Regina always made sure to keep it warm and fresh for her.

She paused as she realized she hadn't bought a loaf in months.

Emma had come in that night, shaking off the wind and rain. She hung her jacket and hat on the coat rack, took in Regina's simple black dress and cupped her cheeks, smiling as she leaned in for a soft, sweet kiss. Regina felt that lump in her throat form again.

Would that be their last kiss?

She pulled back but refused to make eye contact, leading them both into the dining room. Her fingers tangled their way through her partner's. This would probably be their last bit of contact.

Emma sat happily as she insisted on water for their meal, claiming that, despite the rain outside, she was feeling a bit dehydrated.

Dinner went smoothly, and passed by much too soon. Of course Emma had saved room for dessert, she always did, and as Regina pulled out the apple tart she had prepared for them both, she poured their wine in silence. She flicked her wrist subtly and listened as a book from the living room fell from the shelf with a great thud, causing Emma to jump. Regina held back the twitch of a smile at her lover's reaction.

"Darling, will you go see what that was for me, please?"

Immediately Emma straightened her shoulders and puffed out her chest, ready to protect them both from any shenanigans.

"Of course."

The second Emma's hair whipped around the corner of the room, Regina slipped the potion out from the drawer she was standing before. She hesitated momentarily, but then thought back to Emma's eyes the night before. Her body language. The way her tortured mind was screaming so silently in all of the empty space between them.

And so with a small pop, Regina uncorked the bottle and let the potion slug and sploosh into the glass, blending flawlessly with the colour of the wine.

Hastily she shoved the cork back in and placed the glass back into the drawer, shoving it shut at the last second. Emma rounded the corner and smiled widely at the scene before her. Regina held up two glasses of wine, one extended in her direction, as the apple tart sat steaming invitingly next to her on the kitchen island.

"Now this I could get used to..." the blonde purred, sliding up and wrapping an arm loosely around Regina's waist. The brunette forced a smile that showed none of her teeth as she made herself lock eyes with the woman she loved more than life itself.

"To our happiness," Emma stated as she raised the glass up, ready to clink it. Regina's smile faltered, only for a moment, before she readied herself for what was to come.

"No," she whispered, "to yours."

Emma eyed her strangely, but shrugged, clinking the lip of their glasses together before bringing it to mouth. She took the first sip, or rather, deep gulp, as Regina watched on with bated breath. Selfishly a part of her hoped the potion didn't work. Selfishly she wished that Emma would figure her out without explanation, accept her the way she was, and they would both live happily ever after.

But then Emma spluttered. And coughed. And the wine glass dropped and shattered on the floor. Regina faintly remembered her shins getting minor cuts in the process. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She could do nothing but watch and wait.

Finally, a few minutes later, Emma stopped. She looked around suspiciously, rubbing her head and groaning.

"God, I feel like I've undergone brain surgery..." the blonde mumbled into her hands as she rubbed her face. She removed them, looking up and blinking rapidly as she tried to adjust her eyes to the lighting of the kitchen. Her eyes fell on Regina. For a moment, the brunette thought it hadn't worked. She thought it had all been for nothing. Not for the first time she was filled with a joy she would never willingly admit to. But then...

"Sorry, Mayor, but umm...what am I doing here, exactly?"

And now Regina sat upright in bed, her glasses on and silk teddy going to waste. She glared at the black bottle next to her, the skull and crossbones in white sticking out against the contrast of ebony. Toxic was scrawled underneath the design.

She hadn't poured it in. This wasn't the first time she had wanted to since giving Emma that initial potion. But she found, in the end, she couldn't do it. Her eyes roamed over to the picture frame that appeared empty to the naked eye, but as she waved her hand over it, an image of she and Emma resting their foreheads together in the forest appeared. Her eyes welled up as she gently stroked the photo where the blonde was standing and smirking with her eyes closed.

"Of all my downfalls," Regina muttered into her glass, "you were by far the sweetest."