3, 2, 1... HAPPY NEW YEAR! Ring in the new year with a new chapter of Tis the Season! Thank you all so much for the feedback on the previous few chapters! It means a lot.
-xichooseyoux
The blonde woman had her insides twisting, her mind whirling in circles like a tornado. She couldn't think straight. Her limbs turned to mush when she was within ten feet of the spunky street rat. Regina Mills wasn't scared of anybody. Except, whenever she was around Emma an involuntary shiver overtook her body. She slumped against the backside of her door, still wide open. A cold draft allotted the snow and ice to drift inside, causing another sort of shiver to take over her person. Crossing her arms in front of her, she embraced the chill. In the silence once more, she started to kick her feet as her eyes fixated on the ground.
This was certainly not how she pictured her night going at all. There was still a mountain of paperwork awaiting her on her desk...
She closed her eyes before they almost instantly snapped open and she relented with a snarl.
Damn silence, she inwardly cursed as her mind drifted to unwanted places once more.
Christmas time in the Mills home was never a time that Regina recalled fondly. In fact, she downright despised the holiday. She'd much rather hide herself away. Alone.
"Gee, thanks for the help, Reggie." A voice called out, causing Regina's head to snap skyward, hard eyes then fixated on none other than Emma Swan, stumbling through her doorway once again. Regina's coat securely around her shoulders... again.
Was it too late to wish for the silence back?
"Don't call me that."
"Sorry, 'Gina." The bold blonde hopped forward, crutches underneath her arms, clunky cast on her leg.
Eyes rolled. "That either."
Emma's face twisted, chancing a glance toward Regina, for she was fuming. A sheepish smile was thrown in her direction. It was not met kindly.
There was an age-old expression claiming that "all good things come to those who wait" encouraging the virtue of patience. Regina was no stranger to the phrase. She was also no stranger to the action in of itself. In hindsight, the perky little saying is supposed to give the downtrodden and weary hope in the midst of hard times. In Regina's case, each and every time, just as she starts to think that there was a sliver of a chance, a light at the end of the tunnel, it all comes crashing down.
In this case, just as Emma starts to carry herself out and away from Regina's home, taking that annoying little smirk on her face with her, she quite literally came crashing down, breaking her leg in the process.
This was most certainly a disaster. With a groan, she pinched the bridge of her nose. Perhaps this was all a dream, an unspeakable nightmare. Closing her eyes, she inhaled sharply. When she opened her eyes, still she found a mop of blonde hair, emerald eyes, a crooked smile.
Waiting be damned. Regina did not care how long it took for Emma's leg to heal, weeks, centuries, she was certain that no amount of time with this woman would produce a positive outcome.
So much for hope.
Hope did absolutely nothing except give people false expectations and let people down.
That expression was preposterous.
Hope was for the weak.
She was not weak.
"Six weeks." The word was more of a statement than a question, as Regina threw her head back and groaned.
"A minimum of six weeks, actually." The intensity of the pounding in Regina's skull increased with each word. Seemingly oblivious to her pain, the blonde continued to spout off medical jargon. "Remember, doctor said the cast will need to stay on my leg for at least six weeks, possibly eight. Then, after the cast is taken off," she adverted her gaze, speaking to her boots more than to Regina, avoiding the other woman's malicious glare, "I'll likely need rehab and all that stuff to make sure I remember how to use my leg muscles and all that."
Regina's voice raised an octave or two, reminding herself not to roar at the woman before her. "I hope you're happy with yourself, Miss Swan."
"Seriously?" Swan scoffed, meeting Regina's stare with a defiant roll of her eyes. "You think I meant to break my leg?"
"Well you undoubtedly have made yourself quite comfortable in my home."
"Oh, yeah, because you're such a joy to be around—and hey! I offered to go somewhere else. Every damn inn in this rundown town is booked thanks to the holidays, and it's not like I can go back to my box with this thing on my leg. You know, Regina, just when I started to think that maybe, just maybe, you had a heart, you turn around and continue to prove me wrong by acting like a cold-hearted bitch. What's your deal, anyway?"
Blinking, for the first time, Regina was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth to protest, but in the end, all she managed to do was open and close her mouth, wordlessly.
Realizing the severity of her words, Emma's eyes widened. "Shit. No. Look, I'm sorry, I-"
"No explanation needed." Holding up her hand to cut off whatever rebuttal Emma may have had, Regina turned her back to the other woman. "It's late. I'd like to get to bed, if you don't mind." Clenching her teeth, continued, "There's a guest room up the stairs and down the hall."
"Oh, great, more stairs."
"What was that?"
"Nothing." It was by far the most aggressive tone that Emma had produced all night. Truth be told, it shook Regina a bit, causing her eyes to widen slightly before eyeing the stumbling woman suspiciously. "I got it."
It was almost painful to watch.
A grimace formed on the other woman's face, her lips pursed as if she were in deep thought. One step forward resulted in Emma's crutch being swept out from underneath her feet—well, foot. Her cast covered foot was dangling awkwardly in the air. Stumbling backwards, Regina stifled a sigh as she collided with the handrail of the staircase. She crossed her arms, arching her brow as she watched the show.
Just as quickly as she regained her footing, as soon as Emma dared to brave another step, she careened again, this time nearly collapsing to the ground.
"Whoa-" she wasn't sure if the exclamation left Emma's lips or her own, but all that she knew was, in the next few moments, faster than she could blink, the stumbling woman collided with Regina. Her arms wrapped around her waist in an attempt to keep both of them from crashing to the floor. Their noses were almost touching, Emma's shortened breath was brushing against her cheek.
Regina inhaled and exhaled slowly. As soon as she was certain that the other woman was steady on her feet, she practically pushed her away. Hopping on her foot, Emma recoiled, eyes wide.
Clicking her tongue against her cheek, Regina steeled her expression. "Be careful. We don't need you breaking your other leg."
…
At first, she did not understand where she was or why she was there, nor did she understand why she had such an unsettling feeling in her stomach. Regardless, she wandered down the halls. Her lingering shadow cast an eerie aura as she navigated her way through, the aging floorboards creaking a bit under her weight.
Regina stood with a quirked brow outside an ominously familiar door. She hesitated. Something she could not quite place her finger on was drawing her toward the door. Her hand shakily reached forward. In the deepest part of her psyche, she could hear a voice telling her to run, but another part of her, curiosity peaked. With an unsteady hand, she drew open the door and was greeted by a scene that made her stomach clench.
"Regina, what are you doing?"
Her voice suddenly sounded small, "Mother?"
It was in that moment, when she stepped forward, that she realized she was small. As if by magic, Regina was instantly transformed into her younger self, bright eyes widened as she stared, dumbfounded at Cora Mills, back in her former office, hunched over her desk, mounds of paperwork surrounding her. Regina found herself moving forward despite her internal conscious screaming for her to bail. Her movements were in autopilot, as if she had no control over her own body. She peered over the wooden desk, fingers clutching onto something that had materialized in her hands. Toying with fabric, Regina instantly recognized the doll from her childhood: Isabelle. Isabelle did little to calm her heart, pounding so fast against her rib cage it physically pained her. Tightening her grip, she hovered by Cora's side.
"What is it, Regina? I'm very busy." Her tone echoed in the young girl's ears as she spoke.
She stepped back, shaking her head. "It's Christmas... —I was just wondering if... if you wanted to play, now?"
"Of course not. You have me, remember?"
There was a high-pitched voice that echoed off the walls. Those words made Regina's entire heart stop beating. She couldn't move, she couldn't think. Her dark, tear filled eyes grew wide and her mouth was agape in what would be considered shock—if shock was the correct wording. Terror, complete disbelief, even horrified would have been proper, but shock didn't even begin to describe the aforementioned.
Isabelle, her bright eyed, sweet-faced doll was staring at her, eyes a bloody crimson, a wicked grin on her face. "That's all you'll ever have."
The mantra kept repeating in her head.
Regina opened her mouth to scream, but all that was produced was a strangled cry. Dropping the doll, she turned to run, but just as she gained her footing, she came crashing to the ground, stumbling over her own feet, her face colliding with the hard, wooden floor. Isabelle leapt after her.
"No!"
...
It took the esteemed woman a moment to realize her whereabouts. She jolted upright with wide eyes and in a heap of tangled sheets. Her breath was ragged and short, heart pounding feverishly in her chest. Regina closed her eyes and shook her head.
It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.
A rapping on the door, soft yet firm enough to echo in the stillness, caught her attention. "Regina?"She opened her eyes to find a pair of very anxious emerald eyes staring at her with a furrowed brow. Emma inquired, worry laced over the strong assert of her inquiry, "Are you alright? I—uh—I heard a scream..."
"Miss Swan-" Regina started, having every intention of tearing the woman apart for, once again, snooping around her home, but her voice wavered. With a deep breath, she managed, "I'm fine, just a bad dream. Go back to sleep."
The blonde remained frozen in the doorway. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." Her answer was quick—too quick. She remedied. "No. I'm fine. Go back to sleep."
Regina kept her eyes stationary on the opposite wall as she remained upright, listening to Emma shuffle awkwardly back and forth on her crutches. She didn't move; she didn't speak, it wasn't until she heard the awkward shuffling inch closer did she let out an unsteady breath via pursed lips that she didn't realize she was holding. With that outtake of breath, Regina rolled onto her back and kept her eyes deadlocked on the ceiling. Even with the bed dipped she remained stationary.
For the longest time, both of them remained silent. The only sound to be heard was the slight ruffling of bed sheets as Emma made herself comfortable. Earlier in the night, Regina would have screamed at Swan to leave her personal space that instant. Demand that she got the hell out of her room, back to her own assigned quarters, so she could be left on her own, like she preferred. In fact, the growl was on the tip of her tongue, but as she pushed herself upwards, as she craned her neck to send daggers in the blonde's direction, all that she managed to produce was a tired sigh. Swallowing thickly, she met Emma's gaze, and the sight before her unsettled her for a completely different reason. As she watched her, she nearly cursed out loud at the sight. That infamous smirk on her face had been replaced by what appeared to be a genuine, gentle smile. Her head was cocked to the side.
Regina's heartbeat was still racing a mile a minute.
It was hard for her to breathe.
She could still hear that blasphemous, high pitched voice in her ears, feel the small, clammy hands of the doll scratching at her skin. Still, that wasn't the part that truly unsettled her.
Despite all of that, her gaze remained locked with Emma's. Perhaps it was her addled brain, perhaps it was a trick of the light, but she thought that maybe, just maybe, Emma had scooted closer.
I want her out of my room.
Try as she might to speak, her voice failed her. The mere strangled sound that managed to force past the ever-growing lump in her throat was barely a sound at all.
She averted her gaze, unable to stand that look in Emma's eyes any longer.
"I get them too, you know?" Emma's voice sounded distant. "Nightmares," she iterated. "They suck." A soft chuckle left her lips. "When I was a kid—in my third foster home, I think-" Regina's eyes widened slightly, "- I used to have this dream where I was in this freaky, enchanted forest being chased by ogres."
Regina arched her brow. "Fascinating story, Miss Swan."
"I also used to have this reoccurring nightmare about the Evil Queen. You know, from Snow White? Yeah, I wasn't allowed to watch Disney movies for a long time..."
The brunette watched and suppressed a satisfied smirk as Emma chewed on her lower lip. Annoying, perhaps, Regina thought, but she could be entertaining. "One of my foster mothers used to tell me stories as a child." Her voice soft voice caught her attention. When Regina didn't speak, she continued, "said that if I didn't behave and do exactly what she told me to do, that these monsters would attack me in my sleep. Made for a lot of sleepless nights. The irony of it is, is that she turned out to be the very monster I was afraid of."
Regina's eyes wandered into the night. Her eyes fixated on the opposite wall once again as if it were the most fascinating creation in all of history. A bitter scoff left her lips. She kept her eyes on the wall as she spoke, "Yeah, I know the feeling."
The two of them merely sat there in the silence for a moment, both of them absentmindedly toying with the bed sheets underneath them. There was a time when Regina Mills had sooner be lit on fire before admitting that she needed someone by her side, but she couldn't help but shake her head as she suddenly realized that her palms were no longer sweating. That it was suddenly easier to breathe. For tonight only, she decided, that she didn't want to be alone.
...
I've had some questions about whether or not this story is set in cursed Storybrooke or not. It's not. There is no magic in this story- besides the magic between Emma and Regina ;)
