The door bell chimed over Emma's head. She had forgotten about the tell-tale sound of a new arrival. Eyes lifted from the leather upholstered booths, glancing in her direction. Most of them quickly returned to their business, but a few curious stares lingered, including the one belonging to the diner's proprietor.
Granny fixed her with her scrutinizing gaze, studying Emma from head-to-tow over her spectacles.
"What the hell happened to you?" She asked in a familiar gruff that sounded more wolf than her grand-daughter.
"I didn't sleep well."
Granny snorted. "Right. And I woke up old and cranky. You really expect people to buy that tall tale? Lack of sleep don't make a person look like they just crawled out of their own grave."
Emma rolled her eyes. Of course Granny noticed. She was tough as nails and quick minded. Combined with her sharp senses, there wasn't a lot she missed.
"I need some donuts for the station."
"Preferences?"
Emma shrugged. "It doesn't matter."
"It doesn't matter?" Granny set her notepad on the counter. "You usually have a list a mile long of the donuts your plan to personally eat."
The expression on Granny's face was closer to an accusation than a question, making Emma's palms sticky with sweat. She could see the Queen in the same position, hand pressed to the stone table as she leaned forward, her dark eyes cold and penetrating. They pierced Emma, displaying the Queen's displeasure without a word.
She wiped her hands on her jeans. The material shifted with her movement, the fabric bunching from the extra space left by her legs. Inside, she grimaced. "I wasn't feeling well last night."
Granny pursed her lips. "Well, at least that lie make a little more sense." She fastened the top on a cup of hot chocolate and handed it to Emma.
"It isn't a lie." Not technically anyway. Her stomach had been sick more than once since returning home. Practically every other minute, really.
"Maybe not," Granny agreed, handing over the bag of donuts. "But it isn't the truth either."
Emma's heart picked up as she dug a ten-dollar bill out of her pocket. Maybe she should have stayed home. Or took a leave of absence. At least until her color returned to normal.
And do what? Hide out in the loft? She'd go stir crazy just sitting there. She didn't trust herself enough to be alone right now. She wasn't sure she could handle it. However, she also wasn't sure tackling the town was the best idea either. She looked like a kicked puppy on the way over here, constantly looking over her shoulder. She tried to tell herself she just didn't want to run into any-one who would ask too many questions. People like Granny. Deep down, she knew who she was really looking for.
Despite the time of day, she half expected Regina to walk through the door. She knew Regina was already at work. Unless there was a crisis to attend to, Regina didn't deviate from her schedule. Still, Emma wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed to have avoided her.
Her stomach pitched and rolled as she thought about facing the former Queen. Relieved. She was definitely relieved. No matter how much she tried to separate the two in her mind, she knew there was no way to not see the Queen when she finally saw the Mayor. She was barely in control of her emotions now. How was she supposed to hide the instinct she had to fall to her knees when she heard Regina's voice? How long could she fight the urge to clasp her hands and assume her taught pose of submission? Regina would notice. Emma was certain. And then what?
They couldn't just go back to their lives if Regina knew the truth. There was a good chance Regina wouldn't even be able to look at her. Emma wasn't able to listen to last night's voicemail, but she'd read the transcript. Regina saw the portal and told her to stay away from it. Obviously she hadn't received those instructions, but did it matter?
Her mouth went dry each time she thought about it. The Queen wouldn't care. Emma had disobeyed by going to the barn in the first place. She knew the punishment for that if she were back in the Enchanted Forest.
But you aren't.
No. She wasn't. Regina wouldn't punish her. She would lecture her and maybe give her the silent treatment for a few days. Except that she hadn't just disregarded her orders. If Regina found out about Emma's time with the Queen, she wasn't sure Regina would ever speak to her again.
And why should she? You almost destroyed the future. You entered into a relationship with her that she wouldn't choose today and you stole her memories of it. She should whip you.
But she wouldn't.
Disappointment coated Emma's stomach like heavy lead. She frowned, confused by her desire for penance, as Granny passed back her change.
"Whatever it is, your secrets are safe with me. I won't pry. Just know I'm here if you get in over your head."
"I think it's a little too late."
Granny patted her hand and Emma turned for the door, keeping her pace steady as she walked outside. The fresh air calmed her nerves and Emma sighed, but her relief short-lived.
"Swan!"
"Great," Emma groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. She really wasn't in the mood for this right now. Why couldn't he take a hint and leave her alone?
Hook jogged up beside her, flashing a smile she didn't reciprocate. A few months ago, she'd found his wit engaging, maybe even a little charming. A lot had changed since then. She had changed a lot since then. Still, she wasn't sure what she could have possibly been thinking. His persistence was smothering. His suave gestures curdled her insides. She wanted him away from her. Far away. Like half-way back to Neverland away.
Emma increased her pace. "I'm headed to work."
"I figured. I thought I'd walk you."
Of course he did. Like a pet. Or mental patient. "I don't need a personal guard, if that's what you think."
"Maybe I just thought we could talk. Enjoy each other's company-"
"I'm really not in the mood for company. Or for talking," Emma interrupted, pulling up short. She really wasn't sure why she attempted to brush him off. Hook wasn't good with hints, or he just didn't care. If they didn't have it out now, he'd follow her to the station and she didn't need him camped out in the corner. "I have nothing to say to you."
His face sobered. His light-hearted grin was replaced by tight lips and a raised eyebrow. "Don't you think we should at least get our stories straight? If you don't want to tell anyone about what happened, then we should both be on the same page."
Emma fisted the donut bag, knuckles turning white as she scrunched the paper folds. "Didn't we cover this last night?"
"Aye, love. And I still think you're making a big mistake keeping this to yourself."
"You mean keeping this from you?"
How naive did he think she was? She knew this wasn't about her needs. He was just worried about what the Queen had done with her. What she had done with the Queen. This was about his ego.
"Swan, I'm just concerned."
"Right," she hissed, leaning towards him. "Concerned that the Queen had what you wanted?"
"Swan," he repeated. He lifted a pacifying hand. "Do you think there is anything you could tell me that I don't already know? That I couldn't guess?"
He doesn't know you liked it. The Queen's voice filled her mind. He doesn't know you miss it. Or that you wish I was behind you right now, whispering in your ear, holding you in my arms, massaging you with my hands. He doesn't know you're mine; that you gave yourself to me willingly, does he? Does he know you still want me, Emma?
"Did you forget I was around back then? Both times," Hook continued. "I know what the Queen was like."
"No. I didn't forget." How could she? He was there the entire time the Queen held her captive, and he'd left her there. He didn't come to her rescue. And now he wanted to be her hero? Now he wanted to be a shoulder she could lean on and depend on? She saved herself. She got herself out of the Queen's castle and she got them back home.
Emma stared into the dark. She had spent the last six hours deliberating, her insides twisting as she considered her options. Her magic had finally unlocked, the white flare of power bursting from her finger tips in a fit of desperation. The Queen had chained her ankles, making it impossible for her to leave the bedroom. She'd panicked. Snow White was nearby, and so was her father. And Hook. They were all together somehow. She hadn't overheard much, only that the Queen had failed to kill her mother. Again.
For one second, she forgot where she was. She forgot the rules.
"She's with a pirate?" Emma asked the guard who'd soldier. "What did he look like?"
The soldier regarded her skeptically, steel gray eyes sizing her up. She wasn't supposed to talk to him. She wasn't supposed to talk to any of them. Eventually he decided not speaking to her might hold a worse fate if she knew something. "Do you know him?"
His question made Emma pause, her good sense coming back to her. It was too late. Purple smoke wafted around her, fingers tangling in her hair. Her head jerked back, exposing her throat.
"Of course she does," the Queen snarled. "And she's going to tell us what else she knows. Aren't you, Emma?"
She froze, her tongue twisting as she wracked her mind for a suitable answer that wouldn't destroy everything. That wouldn't destroy her.
"Why don't I tell you what I know," the Queen continued. "You were with the pirate the night I captured you. He was disguised just as you were. He helped Snow White. He's continued to help her several times since then. Do you know what that means for you, if you've kept information from me?"
Emma clasped the Queen's hand, trying without success to loosen her tight grip. "I haven't kept any- that from you."
The Queen's head tilted. "What have you kept from me, my girl? There's something you're not telling me? About Snow White?"
Emma bit her lip. She didn't know what to say. There were many things she had kept from the Queen. So many things she could never tell her. Doing so wouldn't just ruin her life or parents. It would ruin everyone's, including the Queen's.
She also couldn't lie. The Queen would know. She knew Emma too well. No matter what Emma said at this point, it wouldn't be enough. Her time in the Enchanted Forest had just run out. She needed to get out of the castle, find Hook, and get back to the present. Her parents were still on their path. The fact the Emma still existed was proof of that, but the past was catching up to her. If she didn't get back to her own time soon, her luck would run out.
Tears welled in her yes, her heart plummeting in her chest as she stared at the face of the Queen. Could she really leave her? Nails tore at her chest, her lungs constricting. She belonged to the Queen. Leaving was a betrayal. It was treason. "I can't."
"Very well." The Queen took her words as affirmation of her decision to protect Snow. Smoke surrounded them, and the courtyard disappeared. They landed in the Queen's bedchamber, Emma shackled by her ankles to a thick chain. It stretched the width of the bed, allowing her to move around it, but otherwise kept her confined. She was trapped.
The Queen gazed down at her, a small frown gracing her lips. "I thought we'd come so much further than this."
"We have." Emma reached for her and the Queen stepped back. Couldn't she see? This wasn't what Emma wanted. She wanted to be the Queen's girl. She wanted to make her proud, to feel strong arms close around her. "Please."
"Trust and privileges are earned. How am I supposed to give you either?" She turned on her heel, a wave of her hand opening the door in front of her.
Emma panicked. She couldn't leave like this. She needed to make things right. Or as right as they could be. She couldn't stand the Queen's disappointment. She also couldn't stay chained. Every moment she remained trapped, Hook and her parents slipped further away, and so did whatever window they had left to return to the present before they changed history for good. She had to stop her, to make her see. "Regina, please!"
Emma cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. In all her time with the Queen, she somehow managed to keep Regina separated from her. Faced with home, reality was seeping back in.
The Queen turned slowly, her eyes burning embers. "Pardon me? I know I couldn't have heard you right?" She crept closer, her steps like a predator closing in on its prey. "Did you not learn your lesson last time?" The Queen's hand trailed up her arm, fingering the neckline of her top. "You clearly haven't learned to tell the truth. Or how not to speak to those you have no permission to converse with. Have you?"
Emma shook her head.
The Queen dropped her hand. "Get comfortable, won't be going anywhere for a while." She disappeared and the door slammed shut.
Emma tugged at the chains cursing under her breath. She had really messed up this time. Not only was the future on the line again, her life might be too. The Queen had chained her up, but considering everything that had just happened, shackles were a slap on the wrist. There was no way that was the end of it, meaning something worse was coming. Something Emma couldn't even begin to contemplate.
It wasn't like she didn't deserve it. She wasn't supposed to speak with anyone but the servants and guards assigned to her. She was usually good about that. She'd only slipped up once before. The Queen's father had introduced himself and Emma was foolish enough to respond. Her reprimand wasn't immediate. Emma hadn't even thought twice about the brief exchange, until later that night. She paid for her error in judgement. The riding crop colored her back, and Emma was placed in solitary confinement for a week.
That was way worse than this. She was locked in a small room, hardly bigger than a clothes closet. She was given a pillow and a thin blanket, which was more than she expected. Still it did little to keep out the cold. The stone floor scraped at her injuries. The Queen didn't leave permanent marks, just welts that smarted no matter which way she attempted to lay. Eventually she fell asleep sitting up, her head tucked against her knees.
The bucket was the worst. It sat in the corner, a place for her to relieve her bladder. The guards changed it out twice a day, but in the small space, the smell of urine choked the air. After almost spilling it, Emma learned to hold her bladder, only going when she knew the guards would change it out soon.
The only reprieve from the dark silence came in the evenings when the Queen brought her dinner and a wash basin full of warm water. She slid to the floor next to Emma, wordlessly removing Emma's garments. The wool cloth scratched as it cleaned, wiping away cold sweat and grime.
"Thank you," Emma whispered.
"Lift your arms for me." Emma complied and the Queen ran the damp rag along her ribs, massaging each breast until Emma moaned softly. "Such a good girl," she murmured. She kissed her temple, trailing down her jawline to nip at Emma's throat.
Emma tilted her head back, her breaths turning to soft gasps. "Please."
"Please what, Emma? How do you address your Queen?"
"Please, My Queen. Please take me with you. Let me sleep with you. I'll be good. I promise." She clung to the woman's gown, tears dampening the Queen's dark hair.
One day in the closet was enough to encourage her to plead for forgiveness. After several days, Emma was on the verge of a breakdown. The darkness played tricks on her mind, colors and images appearing in the shadows. Sometimes she heard voices. At first they were soft whispers, words she could barely make out. Eventually they grew stronger and more familiar. They were the voices of her old foster families. They were the new kids at every school she ever attended. She heard the voices of her fellow inmates from jail and the employers who had let her go. They tormented her, opening old wounds and stirring up old fears.
'You're worthless.'
'How could anyone love you?'
'Your parents abandoned you. They threw you out. They knew you were trash.'
They were unending, pushing and prodding at Emma's resolve. She covered her ears and rocked back and forth, speaking the truth out loud. Her parents hadn't thrown her away. They attempted to save her in their own misguided way. They loved her. Henry loved her. Hook. Regina. The Queen.
Did the Queen love her? She was there for Emma in so many ways no one had ever been before. Even after her disobedience, the Queen took the time to take care of her and comfort her. She kissed and held her until she fell asleep, telling her stories of magic and desire, of the future they could have together if Emma chose her. Why? Why would she bother if she only wanted obedience? If this was only a game?
Her instincts told her it wasn't. There was definitely passion between them. The Queen's eyes darkened to shiny black coal as her fingers traced Emma's body. Her kisses consumed but didn't conquer. They coaxed and seduced, holding on to Emma as if she were a precious treasure. Emma had one super power. She could detect a lie. She felt it in her soul, covering her like black, sticky tar. But her interactions with Queen, for the most part felt genuine, leaving Emma to wonder if the Queen wasn't looking for something more than a prisoner. She had power and servants. She had an army and a kingdom, but from what Emma could tell she didn't have a companion, a genuine friend. It was all power struggles, games and alliances.
Emma of course wasn't foolish enough to say that. She also knew better than to let her guard down. Still it was thoughts of the Queen's affection toward her that chased the voices away, that made her feel safe and protected.
The Queen held her closer. "You've promised to be good before, my girl. You promised me you could follow my rules."
"I know." She wiped at her eyes. "I didn't mean to break them."
A finger lifted Emma's chin. "If you didn't mean to break them, then how can I know you won't do it again? I think this lesson needs to be learned."
"It was." Emma hated the high pitched whine in her voice and the obvious desperation she failed to hide. She was never good at being trapped. Especially in the dark. Not since she was four and her second family locked her in a closet for days. She was much older now, but deep inside, there was part of her that didn't know that; a part of her that wanted to hit and kick and smash her way out. This wasn't supposed to happen to her anymore.
The Queen's gentle kissed, drew her attention back. This wasn't the same. Her foster parents never came to the closet to check on her. They didn't make sure her needs were met. They didn't give her a place to use the bathroom, or meals. They definitely didn't spend time with her each evening, comforting her. This was a punishment. What more did she expect from the Evil Queen? She'd honestly expected a lot less. She expected her to be cold and violent, cruel. She saw none of those traits in the woman holding her.
"Please," Emma whispered again.
The Queen pursed her lips. "I want to release you, Emma. But I need to be sure."
"I will be more careful."
"That's not the lesson you should be learning, dear."
Emma scrunched up her brow. "What is?"
"That you are mine. I decide who I trust you with."
"You don't trust your father?"
The Queen's eyes narrowed in silent warning and Emma's mouth snapped shut. "That's not the point, is it?"
Emma shook her head.
"What is the point, Emma?"
"You didn't give me permission to speak with him."
"Mmmm… " The Queen agreed. She wrapped an arm around Emma's waist, lifting her over her lap. Their lips met and Emma rose up on her knees for better access, the Queen's fingers tangling in her hair. She lost herself in the kiss. It was all soft nips and sighs, as the Queen's tongue passed through parted lips, claiming her mouth.
Breaking apart, Emma buried herself in the Queen's neck. Apple spice filled her lungs with each breath. The taste coated her lips as she kissed her bare shoulder. In the small room, there was only the sound of their pounding hearts, rustling fabric and breathless moans. The normally cold chill turned to electric heat. Emma's skin flushed and she rotated over the Queen's thighs, her center throbbing. Soft fingers met slick folds and Emma's head fell back. A guttural moan rumbled deep in her chest, and she ground harder into the Queen's firm hand.
Her climax started in her toes, tingling as it traveled up her legs. Her muscles tightened and Emma's finger's clasped the Queen's dress. When sharp teeth graze her nipple, Emma fell, tumbling over the edge as quakes ravaged her body.
"That's it, Emma. Let it out."
Emma sank to the floors, her eyes heavy as the Queen cradled her in the wool blanket. Her head found the Queen's lap and she licked her lips, the smell of the Queen's arousal a potent aphrodisiac. She gripped at the Queen's thigh, groaning when steady fingers brushed her hand away.
"Two more days."
"In here?" Emma asked groggily.
The Queen nodded. "And then you can show me how much you desire your Queen."
Emma was so careful after that. No matter who was around, she kept her focus on the ground, or on the Queen. Most of the time, she tuned out other conversation entirely. It was easier that way. No temptations. She hadn't even bulked at the mention of Snow that last day. She was used to the name coming up by then. No, it was the mention of Hook, of knowing he was out there with her parents, doing who knew what.
And, why? What was the purpose? Her parents were obviously back on track. So why was he still with them? Why wasn't he looking for her? Why hadn't he tried to save her? It had been three months. It wasn't like he really could say he was getting around to it. She honestly thought he was dead. She imagined him trying to save her and the Queen destroying him.
She hadn't let her thoughts linger there too long. Thinking about losing her once chance at freedom meant accepting that she might never make it back to Storybrook or Henry. Even if she did, without Hook, her world would be changed. She would have to live with his death on her shoulders. But knowing Hook had survived was just as bad. He was out there and hadn't tried to save her.
Worse was the part of Emma that realized she had stopped wanting him too. She stopped caring if she escaped. She stopped thinking about her friends and family. All except Henry. He was the only reason she wanted to get back to the future, the only part of her the Queen hadn't stripped away. Really he was the only part of her she had managed to keep hidden from her captor. She guarded him fiercely, and now he was the reason she couldn't stay trapped, chained to the wall.
She tugged at the shackles, her eyes puffy and swollen. Her emotions were a tumultuous storm. She felt the crushing weight of the portal home closing, but also the loss of the Queen's affection. Guilt assaulted her with each tug of the chains, but she couldn't stop. They would lose Henry if she didn't get free, both of them.
The panic vibrated through her fingers and a bright flash filled the room. The shackles opened, slipping to the stone floor. She had done it. She had reached her magic.
Emma eased to the door and touched the handle. Her body froze. What was she doing? Her heart lurched, a sharp pain twisting in her chest. The Queen was already upset with her, something Emma ached to fix. She hated the steel gaze. She wanted to make it right and hear the Queen tell her she was proud and Emma was a her good girl.
It wouldn't happen. Not this time. There was nothing Emma could do. Not without telling the Queen the whole truth. It wasn't an option.
Still, she couldn't make herself go. She decided instead to wait. It was broad daylight. Even with her magic, she couldn't avoid every guard in her path. Nightfall was better. The castle would be quieter, and this way, Emma could see the Queen one last time, even if it did mean she faced the consequences of her secret. She locked the shackles back in place and waited.
When the Queen was finally asleep that night, Emma made her escape. She ran right for Gold's castle, knowing she would need a new disguise if she was going to make it home. When the Queen woke, Snow White wouldn't be the only one she searched for.
It was days before she found Hook. He looked at her, his mouth hanging open like a codfish.
"You're alive?"
She pulled back her arm and let her fist fly, her knuckles connecting with his jaw.
He tried to speak with her later, but she hadn't wanted to hear it. She didn't want to hear it now either. She just wanted him to stop talking and leave her alone.
"I can't do this anymore, Killian. There's too much that's happened. Too much that didn't happen."
"Didn't happen?"
"You weren't there for me then and-"
"We've been through this!" Hook threw his arms up. "I tried to save you. By the time I made it to the dungeon you gone. I thought she killed you. I thought I failed."
"So you just went skipping off into the forest." Emma knew she was being cruel. She knew Hook had grieved for her, drowning his sorrows in a bottle of rum. It didn't matter though. She just needed him to accept it was over and to move on. She couldn't give him what he wanted. "You gave up."
"I didn't know that. I thought if I could guide your parents back to each other, then at least there would still be an Emma Swan some day."
Emma grimaced. He had done the right thing. In his situation she might have done the same, except she couldn't imagine ever giving up on someone she claimed to love. Not until she saw the body. But he had. Even though he had help her parents and saved her future, he still gave up on her.
"Give me another chance, Emma. Please."
"You don't get it, do you. This isn't about forgiving you. I've changed in ways you will never understand. It doesn't matter that you know what the Queen was like. You can't understand this and I can't talk to you about it. You're too close to the situation, Killian."
"Too close to the situation or too close to you?" He accused.
She sighed, her head pounding in her temples. "Both. Whatever we had together… I can't do it anymore. I can't be with you."
"I'm not asking for a long-term commitment. I just want to be there for you."
"And I told you I need space. You want to be there for me? You can't even respect the one thing I've asked you for."
They stared at each other in silence, Emma's hand resting on the station door. Finally Hook nodded. "If that's what you want, love." He turned away from her. "Let me know if you need any help cleaning up after the witch."
Emma pulled the door open. "David will call you if we do."
She didn't wait for his reply. She ducked inside using magic to seal the door behind her. She didn't think he was stupid enough to come back, but she wasn't taking any chances.
"There you are." David came around the desk, hugging her briefly before taking the bag of donuts. "I was starting to get worried."
"I'm fine."
Emma's shoulders relaxed as she breathed him in. His scent was familiar: forest pine, leather and earth, tinted with men's cologne. Just being near him made her feel safe. It always had. She never understood why, though she speculated it was a distant memory of him carrying her to the closet, holding her against his chest while he fought for their lives. She'd never had that same feeling with Snow. They had a connection, sure. Snow felt familiar to her long before she knew who she really was. But only her dad's presence helped put her at ease. They're relationship was still developing. They had obviously missed the opportunity for him to truly be her father. Their relationship now was still familial though. Kind of like a paternal older brother. They could joke and laugh, and just be silly together. She always knew he had her back.
"I ran into Hook on the way here."
"Everything okay?" He dumped the donuts onto a paper plate, holding it out to her.
"We're just not seeing eye-to-eye right now."
Emma grabbed a plain donut. Normally, she went for the frosted or cream filled kind, but she wasn't sure she could stomach that. Or that she should stomach it. If she was going to eat, it needed to be out of necessity. She didn't feel as guilty if she wasn't enjoying it.
David sat on his desk, lifting a glass of cocoa to his lips. "I thought things were going well between you two?"
Emma shrugged, twirling the pastry around her pointer finger. "It takes a while sometimes to find out if your compatible."
"Or you just know," he said around a bite of donut. "I know that's not the world you grew up in, but you were born in our world. What does your gut say?"
That my heart isn't mine to give away.
The Queen may have left her heart in her chest, but it no longer felt like her own. She could practically feel the Queen's fingers, curling around the soft flesh, squeezing gently.
Emma cleared her throat. "I don't think it's going to work out."
David nodded. "If that's how you feel, we support you. Just make sure, Emma. Your mother and I didn't always get along at first."
"I know." She'd witnessed their banter firsthand and almost erased their entire history. "I don't think this is the same situation."
"Okay."
Emma brought the donut to her lips, inhaled and bit down with her front teeth.
Don't think. Don't think. Don't think. Just swallow.
She forced down the small bite and took another.
"You think you'll be okay to work today?" David asked, watching her.
She licked her lips, reaching for a bottle of water. No way was she about to attempt the hot cocoa. She unscrewed the cap and sipped. "I can handle it."
"Good. We have a lot of ground to cover today. Regina called before you got here. She's on her way over."
Emma's heart froze in her chest, sending ice through her veins. She could feel the blood draining from her face as the donut fell from her hand. For a second, she just stared at it, watching the pastry roll towards the jail cell on the other side of the room. "How long ago did she call?"
"Maybe ten minutes." It only took five minutes to get here from City Hall. "Are you alright?"
Emma bolted for the back door. "I think I'm going to be sick."
