A/N: So this is pretty short, but it is all I had time for and I hate leaving such big gaps in between updates (which I apologize for, again). On an unrelated note, I was writing this chapter and I started to fall deeper and deeper into my thoughts about Regina's character and I guess this came out instead of a more Emma focused development, ooops and sorry in advance - again.


"Emma slow down"

The words broke Emma's concentration and she felt that her breathing was increasing at a rapid rate. Her eyes mildly focused on the pages beneath her fingertips, moving her hand in harsh circles, dragging the pen along without thought, the ink spreading out in dark blotches as her heart began beating faster and faster.

"Emma? Slowly…" Regina spoke softly, reaching for Emma's hand that was holding the pen and wrapping her own around it gently.

Everything Emma felt and knew was slipping at the edge of her mind, she could feel Regina next to her, but there was a warmth spreading from her chest as it heaved and her senses couldn't focus until there was nothing but panic. Her lungs couldn't hold anything, each heave of air slipping back out through some unseen whole.

"Are you alright Emma?" Regina almost whispered, wondering if Emma was somewhere back in her past, her eyes unfocused and breathing rapid.

"yeah" Emma responded in a shaky voice, inhaling into the word, gulping back air without moving her hand away. She could feel herself panicking, as if all the air in the world had been sucked away and there was no oxygen left. It felt like the absence of air was burning into her and the faster her heart was beating the quicker she was breathing, until the numbness seeped further and her fingers began trembling as her vision blurred more, forcing her eyes to close.

"Every time I sit under this apple tree I think of my Mother" Regina spoke clear and calm. Closing her hand around Emma's more tightly, and refraining from leaning towards her as she spoke, knowing that she needed space. Not enough to fall further into her mind, but perhaps enough to think and breathe a little.

"She wasn't very warm, my Mother" Regina continued without pause, her voice lacking any explicit emotion, "She had the unpleasant habit of trying to do what was best for me, regardless of how much I protested against it. Actually you might say that the more I would protest, the more involved she would become. And this tree, it became a place of quiet solace, where I could escape her; at least for the short time it took for her to send someone to find me."

As Regina spoke Emma focused her mind on the ups and downs of her voice, following the flow of words and their feel as her breathing began to mellow into short gasps, the heat in her chest lingering.

"Once, she found me in the stables. I had a horse then, Rocinante, and I would sneak out and ride him when what I wanted did not align with Mother's expectation. This time I was supposed to go to an event, meet some suitor that would most certainly have elevated our status, but I snuck out of the house and had disappeared into the woods well before anyone was aware of my absence. I was just finished my ride and I was brushing him out — I still remember the feel of his fur, it was so soft, and the stable was so warm." Emma became more conscious and less panicked as the words continued to flow into the cool air. Keeping her eyes closed and trying not to move and disturb the woman next to her, she felt Regina's hand tremble and tighten around her's as she continued to speak.

Regina cleared her throat as she continued. "And Mother, she hardly ever came into the stables, she hated when she even had to send someone to drag me back home; the time it took was so inconvenient in light of more pressing issues" there was another pause, "this time she came herself. She walked into that stable like it was a grand hall, strutting across the straw covered floor like it was marble that had been polished 3 times a day. I could hear the tread of her shoes thud on the soft wood as she came around the corner, her expensive gown that she hadn't changed out of after the event swishing among the shuffling hooves, and she walked right up to the stall. She didn't pause, she didn't hesitate, she knew exactly where I was and exactly what she wanted" Regina looked up at the white walled house, her voice dying in the dull light as her eyes wandered up the frame of the window and across to the shallow light of the door.

"She finished her approach, waited for me to turn, looked me dead in the eye, and slapped me" Regina's voice was cold and detached, but her presence filled Emma's senses, her every move, and breath giving her something to focus on outside herself as pangs of empathy flew through her mind while Regina recounted.

"It was not the first time, and certainly would not be the last, but it shocked me in that moment. I thought I was free there, breathing in the warmth and soaking up the quiet. I thought I was rebelling somehow, but that was certainly not the case. She was not angry, I knew when she was angry. In that moment she was pleased. Pleased that she was given the opportunity to teach me a lesson. I might have been her perfect obedient daughter for the next few weeks too, but that was not enough. After a very short and concise lecture, Mother had Rocinante whipped, and she forced me to watch. To teach me to behave and that the stable was never as safe as I thought, and I found that it was never as warm or inviting for quite some time afterwards"

Emma's breathing had slowed considerably, and both woman now sat in the silence. Each a little shaky, a little broken, and cracked open just enough to feel secure in the presence of the other.

Emma tried to think of what to say as a response, and she could feel her hand shaking as she lifted the pen up, feeling the grip of Regina's hand lighten and disappear as she moved. Pressing it down beneath a series of thick black circles, she exhaled deeply, pushing the words out from her mind in sloppy, scratched handwriting:

I didnt know.
I mean I guess I dont know a lot of things but I didnt know that kind of thing and Im not gonna say Im sorry because it doesnt really mean anything anyways but I sorta am.
Not sorry for you, but I guess really just kinda sorry about the world. Sorry that all these things happen that we cant control and pissed that its able to break us down.
And Im really sorry for being here and bringing up things and making your life a hell of a lot harder than it was
Ill try and be better and calm down and be less of a pain in your ass from now on.

"Maybe invite less people over" Regina broke the hushed silence that fell as Emma wrote, and Emma immediately turned to the older women to find that Regina was half grinning, but sadness and questions lingered in the twist of her jaw and tilt of her head.

As Emma attempted to respond she became heavily conscious of the soft hand now lightly touching her own that wasn't gripping the pen for dear life as she stared speechless in surprise at the interruption. In the same moment Regina became just as aware and tugged the hand back into her chest while leaning into Emma just slightly enough to allow their shoulders to brush as a way of conveying that she could keep talking, or writing if she wanted.

"You know, if someone told me a month ago — or even a week ago, that I would be sitting in the Mayor's backyard sharing childhood traumas, I probably would've laughed their ass out of town" Emma tried to lighten the air, tapping the pen against the journal in a repetitive and soothing motion, still almost as anxious as she had been when she had seated herself beneath the tree.

"Mmm" Regina responded in a hushed voice as if she had just now realized what she had so freely shared with the Sheriff. "In a more accurate summarization, you never actually shared your so called 'childhood trauma'. It was in fact I that shared with you" Deciding to flip the attention back at Emma, and genuinely curious about so many things that had happened Regina spoke as flippantly as possible, but the weight behind her words made them thick and expectant to Emma's ear.

In response the soft tap tap of the pen became silent and Emma's entire body stiffened and straightened against the tree where it had been slumped so exhaustedly a moment before.

"You don't have to" Regina changed her tone once again, softening and soothing Emma back to a tightened version of her carefree self.

"Thought I was gonna write it" Emma responded with a grin, waving one of Regina's nicest pens in the air as if that explained everything that had happened in the past two days. Her tired movements and the dark outline around her eyes showing more than her flippant tone would suggest, and they both knew it.

"Then do so" Regina challenged. Refraining from looking directly back at the journal and the scratched writing that spread across the first few lines of it's pages. Instead glancing up at the apples hanging and waving gently from the branches of her tree as she recalled every word she had spoken and mentally pinched herself at the disclosure and weakness she had displayed.

"Fine" Emma mumbled before bowing her head and turning the journal to the next page, pressing her pen down as if to begin writing.